Some of my friends might notice in my style…

a blatant rip off of Burroughs…

2004-10-30

Some of my old friends will recall a very strange day I had when I saw Eleven Crows on a telephone pole outside my house, and, as I passed the pole, neighbor ladies informed me of a very intrusive break-in.

I, too, was robbed.

But it was not for days and days I until I realized that the junkie had stolen my TOP HAT. This was an affront; I could stand losing the chinese throwing stars and the bag of weed, but the TOP HAT that I obtained through magickal means to signify that I was indeed a master, long before I had actually possesed the oriental chair…

The junkie had the nerve to wear my hat, for days, while he rode his bike… and the only ass fucks on bikes at night are junkies on the make… in a hardcore, Masonic, old boys town like Eureka, California…

And I am just an affiliate from the swamp lands…

2004-09-23

one eye slowly opens.

The wooden bench is cutting into the back muscles where Chris is slumped, now half-conscious.

A bald man with a leather apron on pokes Chris with a stick. “You can’t sleep in here, buddy” he growls “move it outside or I will move it for you.”

“I didn’t serve you any liquor, either” he squinted meanly, “ and you stink of being freshly drunk…where is your bottle, fella?”

Fat hands grab Chris by the collar and drag his limp body off the bench and from behind the table. A quick brisk rub down reveled no bottle. With a knee in his back Chris was abruptly led to the door by the Barkeep and thrown out into the street.

Tumbling down the wooden steps, Chris fell to his knees and skidded on his chaps. Chaps that just the day before belonged to another man who had to sacrifice his clothes and his life for his unwelcome interest in a dazed and naked Chris Titan semi-conscious on an outcropping of rocks.

the collar

The man had to sacrifice his clothes and down the wooden steps Chris fell. “your bottle, fella? What did Fat hands mean by that.?” Chris Titan’s semi-conscious limp body grabbed by the collar and with a knee in his back pushed out into the street. Tumbling he slumped in a close alley way, now dazed and off the bench and out the door, stinking of being freshly drunk…didn’t get served you any liquor, rub down reveled no bottle…but how? He could not remember. Pain cutting into the back muscles where Chris was poked with a stick. Half-conscious, he squinted meanly, a quick brisk glance at his life with one eye. Slowly he growls

slumped

growls “the procedure! It’s your fault anyway”, now dazed and limp, body muscles trembling with one eye squinted ,. Slowly he glance at his life He could not remember… only that Pain is taking time! but how? does that length of time

he growls

…but how? stinking of time… after a set length of time…clothes reveled his length of time. body muscles limp, Pain cutting into his back, pushed out onto Pain street. Should this fault occur it does not remember… but He could … only that the procedure is Half-conscious… semi-conscious … He could not remember… trembling in and out of his time! how? does that length

Should this occur

it does not mean that there is a fault, only that the procedure is taking its time!

mean that there is a…a set length of time…the length of the page…but how? remember… but the page after there is a semi-conscious fault. it does not occur … only the procedure is Half-conscious… length of time., only time. is taking its time!

The most reasonable conclusion we have been able to draw from the reports available is simply that Chris Titan never existed.

Final Report Analysis, 2009|09|08|15:05

Camilla: You, sir, should unmask.

Stranger: Indeed?

Cassilda: Indeed, it’s time. We have all laid aside disguise but you.

Stranger: I wear no mask.

Restoring from tape. This is Session #12:

Chris Titan: Black Lake of Hali, the Towers behind the Moon. Brother of Cthulhu, the Yellow Tattered King is the Sun at total solar eclipse. I found this dangerous book: the king was in tatters, and blocked out by the moon… strange intelligence from the stars was able to bathe the earth. I have the mask… and can bring the bastard into physical manifestation.

(Tape plays back a high-frequency static sound for ten minutes. Messages identified in distortion include: “for the life of me, can’t recall where” – “Frater UT” – “ruined his reputation” – “sounds like a Moonman name”)

Chris Titan: That is only given with certain cuts into the flesh that are used as a key to decipher it.

(Unable to trace voice, accent; voice modulates in lower frequencies): Everything is known.

Chris Titan: With cuts in the flesh. You have to raise the answer up in blisters on your belly.

(Unable to trace voice, accent; different frequencies than previous unknown): The mask itself can be modified when I get time.

(Tape ends.)

Commentary of “Hudson“:

“Leather work gloves make it easy work. You have to hide out when we give you the Mask… cause the other criminals will kill your purple-faced talking ass.“

To be continued…

The stagecoach pulled to a stop. The doors open and the Apaches explode into violence. Bro. Reynolds is pummeled with a swiftness and savagery that makes the even the reptilian agent widen his eyes in amazed shock at these mammals. He slips like a shadow around the revolting scene. The men of Saras were insane in the rage and violation to the target. Maras is cold efficiency.

The dry scents of the open desert fill my nose and the feel of the scalding sand on my pads makes me tingle with life-force. I love this thick physicality, the breath, the adrenaline making these muscles feel so incredibly alive when I tear into a living prey.

This is so different that the regimented life and disembodied consciousness in the Ethership Corps for Maras. I may have resonated with the star clusters of Aldebaran and tuned to the black towers of Carcosa behind the moon, but now I have gone beyond the Council of the Selected. I have tasted Independence.

The Twelve Chambers resonate with a strange new virus, actually a very old virus the Council thought was contained.

They felt it, it made them uncomfortable, a longing for openness, stillness and stagnant heat. This longing filled the resonating chamber. The older members were able to repress the feeling and call the council to order. Plans had gone entirely wrong. Not only had Saras not been saved and the contact project ruined but Maras had been infected by the broadcast Orgones of a defected agent.

“The Council“

The negotiation became overtly heated when Captain Chuck also refused to traffic in opium. What Captain Chuck wanted from the Norwegian was complex and not easily defined

Things turned on a pivot the moment the Norwegian’s mouth curled into an insult. Captain Chuck picked up a small skull from the baubles hanging at his neck. It is a small whistle.

The tavern is full and small groups of men, the pirates from both ships intermingled, drinking and laughing, some singing. Chuck’s eyes are as cold as a Crocodiles; he stares into the Norwegians mocking eyes, raises the whistle to his lips; he blows.

Like a flashing thunderbolt, the Norwegian skipper’s crew is dead. Pistol shots shatter bone, leaving bleeding organs to seep blood. Knives and cutlasses fly through the air on pre-determined trajectories, slicing throats. One collective gag of death makes the tavern shudder into silence.

Captain Chuck holds an old pig sticker to the Norwegian skipper’s throat, and gives him an evil smile, and asks him to repeat himself very carefully. As the skipper mouths the words this time his throat is uncertain, feeble and almost halting. Chuck studies his face… his eyes. Having failed to show the proper shift in perception, Captain Chuck slides the long square blade into the skipper’s throat in one flash.

“The Whistle Blower“

Radio waves are modulated by strange bird like organs that broadcast the chirp. It is not a chirp like a bird, it is the modulation of electro-magnetic energy. These bird like organs are actually a form of reptilian nervous structure used to communicate. These creatures communicate to each other with radio like signals.

Reptilians piloting craft can modulate the frequency so that a ham radio may pick it up. As they orthorotate this signal will echo causing duplicate signals, causing a strange mirror effect as it pulls from 4-d to 3-d.

Large
Dark
Reptile eyes like a crocodile,
Veins swell, lungs puff
A radio scream barley audible
To mammal ears
Coils and windings tingle
Birds and radio sets respond
Nature is a radio
For
Large
Dark
Reptile eyes like a crocodile.

My signals are echoing badly but I have managed to broadcast to the men of Saras. The V point is never an easy dimensional navigation. The signals start to mirror before they morph into the new unity of the orthorotation.

I can feel the thickness of physicality. The time energy is bouncing and if plans go wrong I am feeling a connection to the future. The men of Saras are too low to handle with grace the raw power we have attempted to share.

I sense that Titan at Borderland Sciences has the code. He understands how the V-point folds the echo signals into the proper message. The mirror effect as it is known, that or the echo effect, or for clarity can be called the mirror-echo effect on EM Etheric broadcast.

“Radio Head“

To be continued…

It is possible that this was a poisoning from the future, that they had lost a piece of cargo and the contaminated the timeline. Did it really have to do with the Ark of the Covenant (acting as radioactive Orgone Accumulator with a deady charge)? Did they fire it up after the Crusades and lose it because they had no idea how to use it?

Lorenzo de Medici was excommunicated by the Pope, and it would seem that the group he represented was aware that something had gone very wrong… right at the time of the Renaissance. And there is the real essence: the mourning of a lost sexuality and the divinity that is at the essence of intense primal human sexuality. de Medici, with artists like Poussin, were encoding a natural longing for a sexually permissive time before the constraints of modern society.

Which brings us back to the Shugborough House, which has an image of the Shepherds. This was placed by George Anson, a man who was basically a pirate. He was a commissioned British officer in the Navy, but, when he was nearly dead in China, he seized a Spanish galleon that was full of gold, and he was able to buy his paradise when he returned. I am sure his travels around the world and his experience with the natural and sensual peoples of the Pacific Islands proved to him the ideas embedded by Poussin.

The death of sexuality in Europe, and the birth of Ego and Death.

The Lost Reports of Chris Titan, 2006|08|31|03:30

“Three days later… XIPE TOTEC decends on Montreal, an ancient place of the Knights Templar in North America. Xipe is wearing the golden clothes of Agent Titan, and so proceeds to commit an atrocity.”

Here we have traced the initial cut of the Chris Titan ego-identity from that of Father Charles Crump, who was first called Chuck Logos. Titan reports his invocation of Hoor-Apep, Sebek, and the hippo Hathor, and his wearing of the face of Hoor-Apep as mask of the Solar Crocodile, to enable a defensive maneuvering against Xipe Totec. He surrenders the skin of Chris Titan but tears back some of the face, all the while protecting the layer beneath, that of Logos.

The make-shift mask that Chuck now wears, in his continuing desire to be Chris Titan, gradually begins to wear away. More and more, we see deepening changes to the style and content of his reports, as if the toxick murk that Chris Titan was created to swim now burns. New narratives form to accomodate these duelling identities— pineal crystals are harvested by night pirates on dark sea-side ports; Chuck Logos guides Chris Titan through Naufauna of the Cities of the Red Night; Chris Titan enters the Cave of Montesinos and the Tunnels of Set.

Who leaves the tunnels is the greater question.

Meanwhile, the remaining pieces of the face, those that stayed with Xipe Totec, are shed in some unknown place, and from there are gathered. It is from these that we see the first copies of the Chris Titan Masks begin to take shape.

Controller N – Report Analysis, 2009|06|28|05:05

To be continued…

Dark Fnords 203.

Blacking out on pirate rum, intermittent consciousness.

I stagger out to the Cross Roads, a belligerent incarnated ball of rage, and I stand there, black wings flapping, wearing a large purple sombrero, and firing a toy laser gun into the air.

What I did not see was Yoalli Tlauana descend on the cross roads; and in a flash, the moment I blacked out, he fell from the sky bearing the Obsidian Blade. Cutting through my sternum like butter, my heart was gone— the blade gently slipped under my skin and slipped it lose in one piece.

I found my laser gun in the back yard two days later… I don’t recall going to my circle at all…

The Lost Reports of Chris Titan, 2006|09|20|16:05

Commentary of “I Have No Face“:

“The victim is usually a young virgin, of either sex, and before the flaying the village is allowed, nay, expected to have their way sexually with the sacrificial victims. The priest will wear the skin until it falls off, dry like a snakeskin. And we should not forget that the washing off of the blood of sacrifice is forbidden to the priests.

“Xipe is a bad mofo. Tread carefully.“

Nicolas Poussin’s “Les bergers d’Arcadie“

Discussing the Nicolas Poussin painting last night with Jon Sellers, the curator of the Antiquities of the Illuminati, I noted that this scene is supposed to be taking place in a time even earier then the 3rd century B.C., that it is based on an image in the poet Virgil’s “Eclogues”. This is the first sign that there was a longing for a natural pastoral time prior to the strains of modern civilized life; it is called Bucolic poetry, representing a type of ancient longing for a lost paradise.

So, this takes place a very long time ago. Questions: why is the inscription in Latin, and why are the Shepherds so suprised?

To speculate on this requires a digression into the history of the Cities of the Red Night, where something fell from the sky and introduced a change, a virus of sorts, a mutation into what we consider normal and modern. A meteorite is the best understood explanation, one that created Deadly Orgone Radiation because of its radioactive nature.

I have a new understanding, if not as kooky as anything I have read about this damned mystery.

I have come to understand the virus under the name Virus 2B, which is a variant on 23B that is rampant in WSB’s narrative. The virus 2B is a DOR type infection that, at first, seems to be really positive. The guys who had it and passed it on to each other in certain rituals, bound to infect each other, became priests and kings; and, as the leaders of all the growth and civilization they could conceive of, the strong sense of personal identity, and the rush of power that accompanied it, increased.

Back to the Shepherds: I think they knew every square inch of their land and they were shocked to see a large object had appeared. I think they could not read the language, because it had not even been invented yet.

The object… was it radioactive? The alphabet… is it merely symbolic of how the language virus was tied to the 2B virus, and that language had infected man in the time of the 1620s when the painting was created?

Poussin was part of circle organized by Lorenzo de Medici. This circle was involved in rendering the pastoral images taken from classic bucolic poetry into images. They, in my speculation, had an underground cult that was dabbling in primal sexuality. They were encoding these memes into art that was meant to alter the perceptions.

Was Poussin narrating the history of the Cities of the Red Night centuries before Burroughs told it? An object falls from the sky and infects the simple people with a contrasting notion of death and being. This is when innocence is lost.

The Lost Reports of Chris Titan, 2006|08|31|03:30

To be continued…

XIPE TOTEC stalks Agent Titan through incarnational gateways.

Titan is flayed with an obsidian biface blade, a stout 24 inches long and 3 inches at its widest, shaped of a solid piece of black glass from Mt. Shasta; it was once used by the local Yurok Indians in their Ghost Dance. He was spell bound by the find earlier in the day when passing through the museum, just prior to a dance exposition by local indians, a passing that later found him in full drunken orthorotation late that evening.

Obsidian biface blades played a very important role in a demon possession case that Titan cracked earlier this spring: the shaman who made these blades was trapped to the spot and obsessed with the wealth. Obsidian is radioactive and creates DOR, which is why it is used in toxick ritual, or ritual that is meant to have a heavy charge of death.

To see this blade in physical reality… and know that it was giving off an ancient and deadly charge…

The Lost Reports of Chris Titan, 2006|09|20|16:05

Xippe icuic, Totec, yoallauana
Hymn of the High Priest of Xipe Totec

Yoalli tlauana, iztleican nimonenequia xiyaqui mitlatia teocuitlaquemitl, xicmoquenti quetlauia.
The nightly drinking, why should I oppose it? Go forth and array yourselves in the golden clothes, clothe yourselves in the glittering vestments.

Noteua chalchimamatlaco, apana, y temoya ay quetzallaueuetl, ay quetzalxiuicoatl, nechiya iqui nocauhquetl, ouiya.
My god descended upon the water, into the beautiful glistening surface; he was as a lovely water cypress, as a beauteous green serpent; now I have left behind me my suffering.

Maniyauia, nia nia poliuiz, ni yoatzin achalchiuhtla noyollo, ateucuitlatl nocoyaitaz, noyolceuizqui tlacatl achtoquetl tlaquauaya, otlacatqui yautlatoaquetl ouiya.
I go forth, I go forth about to destroy, I, Yoatzin; my soul is in the cerulean water; I am seen in the golden water; I shall appear unto mortals; I shall strengthen them for the words of war!

Noteua ce in tlaco xayailiuiz çonoa y yoatzin motepeyocpa mitzualitta moteua, noyolceuizquin tlacatl achtoquetl tlaquauaya, otlacatqui yautlatoaquetl, ouiya.
My god appears as a mortal; O Yoatzin, thou art seen upon the mountains; I shall appear unto mortals; I shall strengthen them for the words of war.

I was set on edge immediately by the title Arcadia for two reasons: first, I just invoked Pan and Arcadia with some ARG cypher buried in the source code; and second, I have just been puzzling on the Shepherds of Arcadia mystery very recently and reported on it.

My report was rather dis-jointed as I recall… frantic… as it was pulled out of one of my coffee experiments. The jist of it was that the whole thing can be likened to a Templar Philadelphia Experiment. They fired up a temple with the Ark of the Covenant in it, and then it disappeared… back into time. It poisoned the natural flow of earth life, and it introduced the DOR and the word virus into Arcadia… destroying the purity and creating the Cities of the Red Night.

Working with the evil Jon Sellers, I was able to get back in time and expose a French disinformation agent from 1924 named “Dussaud,” a famous orientalist. The key lies in a discovery that Dussaud debunked as being fake, which later testing proved him to be lying. I say lying and not wrong because of the vengeance and legally underhanded techniques he used. This discovery was the Glozel Stones.

The Glozel Stones are a collection of Neolithic ceramic tablets from 300 B.C., the same era that Virgil was writing the Eccoluges that the Shepherds of Arcadia are based on. Glozel in located in the same region of France as Rennes-le-Château, where the painting supposedly takes place. The image is of a grave… and, in 300 B.C., we first start to see graves with words inside them.

We have Celtic warriors trying to buy off death with words, with their “name” carved in a ceramic tablet and buried in the closet.

The Lost Reports of Chris Titan, 2006|09|20|16:05

To be continued…

If you are wearing a Chris Titan mask to try to burn his rep… you are probably not making the best use of your Chris Titan Mask. Why stop at bad impersonation when you, yes you, can Be Chris Titan?

a.k.a. A Series on How to Become Chris Titan

i. Make Your Own Mask

The cheap-out option is printing the above image on a piece of fabric, cutting out the eyeholes, and getting to work.

This rarely works.

Molded white plastic, shaped and repainted, lenses in blue, wired and bent to needs.

This frequently works, but for the best mask you will need to buy a large jar of plastiskin 2.7 from GbTS and just mold the face — in this case, the Chris Titan Mask — you need on the fly.

ii. Master the Chris Titan Mask Crump

The Chris Titan Mask Crump can cause you to shatter the Fifth Wall.

The Chris Titan Mask Crump makes you invulnerable to stabbing damage.

To be continued once you’ve completed the first two steps…