Illuminist Lodge

What follows is an attempt at an elegy for Tim Ruth. I used the lyrics of a few songs written by Jeffery Lee Pierce when he was the frontman of The Gun Club, as the muse for the grief, joy, and imagination here and in a way this might be a spelegy for him as well. Tim was not a fan of The Gun Club necessarily, their inclusion here is for me and the reference to the mountains in The Fire Spirit helped me remember when Tim and I spent the best years out in the Jefferson County Memorial Forest. If you think of Tim, think of the mountains, he is there now free, running the hills without obstruction, hiding treasures for the next generation that will leave a dying culture behind to explore the wilds and maybe taste freedom.

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“There is a space located between tyranny and anarchy and it is in this free space that a free spirit dwells” Abee Calixte Malinge.

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When I was transcribing some of Tim’s writing for this spell I could feel the supernatural glowing moss, mold, and dust from the old funeral parlor he bought on 3rd st covering my face and chest. If you heard supernatural stories about that house they are true, the portion of the house that was used to prepare the cadavers had a freezing wind that never stopped blowing, it was at least 20 degrees colder than the rest of the morgue. I didn’t like the feeling and gave up on this endeavor numerous times. But I am still here and I need to keep moving, we have to move through this with the power he would want, the power to continue to create and to never give into despair.

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“They can twist and turn

They can move and burn

They can throw themselves against the wall

But they creep for what they need

And they explode to the call

So they can move,

Sex Beat, drop!” JLP

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++++Spelegy ++++

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Jimmy LeVan said it, in one of those videos where people were following him around filming him while he rode his bike, “This is not a bike, this is a UFO.” Picture this: Tim Ruth, Jason Thompson, Matt Tucker, Sean Mcloughlin 1989 sitting on the highest mountain in the Jefferson County Memorial Forrest in the middle of the night. Darkness yawns towards the East, the only shape differentiating the sky from the earth is the hulking presence of the mountain.  We make contact. A bright silver ship flies from the southern regions with diamond like precision into the middle of the sky and stops on a pin. Everything is quiet, except the wind in the trees, the crickets chirping, the sound of stars flashing. Kentucky midnight, deep in the mountains. Why are we here? Were we banished into this bright darkness? 

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“I can see clearly from my diamond eyes. I am going to the mountain with the fire spirit, no- one will accept all of me” Jeffrey Lee Pierce, The Fire Spirit

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When you make contact it is too late for introductions, once you see the ship, you are all the way in with them, and they are all the way in with you. It is like a reunion of sorts. You knew it would happen. You have been missing them your whole life. And they have been missing you, communicating with subtle frequencies and you knowing the incongruity of your existence, not knowing where your real family is. Certainly there were different experiences among the witnesses, whatever the contact was. And then just as quickly as it arrived it moved noiselessly into the northern sky and vanished, way too quickly. It was gone and we were left alone with darkness and the mountain.

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“Someone will step out of the circle

Someone will turn and burn a world

Someone knows a better cell

Where the old north winds blows through southeast hell, yeah!” JLP

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Collaborating with Tim Ruth in the Artes and Sciences  was making contact. I believe in his sleepless nights when he had his fingers on a keyboard he was attempting to create a congruity between himself and the reality of what was inside the ship. You have to accelerate the cellular and mental density of the human experience in order to reach a congruity with your hidden reality. The reality of your true home and brethren.

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If we could conceptualize the purpose of Timothy Ruth’s Artes and Sciences, the reality of the potential lodge he represented, I would have to say it was to achieve congruity with a hyper dimension. There was a quickness of the spirit, a quickness of the mind, and a quickness of the bones. Often in pictures he would appear as a blur, everyone else would be clear because of their density and he would be spectral. Or there would appear flashing orbs above his head or gaping holes, his subtle centers being used as portals to maintain contact with a hyper dimension, with a cube space, the interior of which held the elixir of life, the stone, the medicine, the liberator of worlds.

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That all might sound nice and special somehow, nostalgic, or endearing or something you might idealize, but without psychic supports, this experience is a complete burden, and until you find those supports, there is no way to bring that frequency into the density of this world, the ignorance, the shallowness, the wall of pain, there is no fucking way.

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“I will be cheating the whole ritual, I’m going to the mountain with the fire spirit. No-one will expect all of me.” JLP

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So this was his gift to us, but also the thing that never became actual. I think Tim made music and art as a bridge “to communicate” the full charge of the truth of his experience as an Extranatural event, a style of consciousness beyond earth. Can the pillars be raised to support the lodge, are they self standing? Will their support be received or will the house crumble? A house offered daily to bring his stellar destiny into matter. It happened, did it happen, it returned.

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Ascended master way is a street that snakes through a dream in the mountains.  There are quick grey ships speeding through the secret Arizona sky.

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“Invention was betrayed by the machine

Promised like it was promised to me

I’m going up the mountain to see

How the last thing will set them free” JLP

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Establishing congruency with the craft initiation.

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Establishing congruity with the true interior craft initiation is a lifelong endeavor. Due to the high frequency of the transmission, a solid body must achieve a certain level of speed in order to reach sympathy with the interior of the cube.  Timothy Ruth, Jimmy LeVan and many of us have to go very fast to achieve this congruity, you see us speed by, move quickly, we don’t stop really, we never sleep.

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“Johnnys got a light in his eyes 

and Shirley’s got a light on her lips

Jakes got a monkey shine on his head

Deborah Ann’s got a tiger in her hips”” JLP, Sex Beat

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Once congruency is achieved with the transmission of the craft initiation, the command of the other world and the command of this world come into harmony, achieving this experience is total bliss for the contacted individual who represents the possibility of a lodge. Because the initiation is coming from another world, a non-human species, the agenda is piece by piece recovered, rejected stones, shaped stones, the rough ashlar, tumbled stones.

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All of us must find ways to achieve congruency with the hidden aspects of our true being, this is not an elitist endeavor. This is elementally human, natural and extranatural.  It is true that certain individuals are born open to the transmission, even though there has been nothing done to prepare the ground. 

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“With too much patience 

And too much pain

I am going to the mountain with fire spirit

To make amends for all of me

And the fire will stop” JLP

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These are the Artes and Sciences of the Lodge. Essentially aimed at achieving a sort of equilibrium between spirit, soul, and matter. People are bound to these three principles but the ratio of the principles in a specific being are able to change rapidly, someone may become more luminous for a time, more fluid for a space, more solid for a depth depending on the need of the moment.

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This is a many worldly endeavor, a cosmic endeavor. It is outside of the elemental command of this world, this is what makes it alchemical. These worlds are not necessarily supposed to cross and it takes a type of heroic being to achieve equilibrium. Many die without doing so, this does not mean that all was in vain, nor is it a judgement on them. 

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“I am going to the mountain

I am going to the mountain 

I am going to the mountain

I am going to the mountain” JLP

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I am tracking the Minotaur to deliver the ray of illumination. I will meet him underneath a peach tree in the center of the maze that this world has created for him. When you reach the center of the maze and exchange heads with the Minotaur of the Moment, the entire maze circles, the triangular edges of its path become smooth as the mother spiders enter, and weave you both out of the old world and into the fabric of the new.  

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“They can twist and turn

They can move and burn

They can throw themselves against the wall

But they creep for what they need

And they explode to the call” JLP, Sex Beat

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When I say Artes and Crafts I don’t mean quilting, what I am referencing is bringing through a cosmic shape, which once introduced to the environment of your respective lodge and world will change how nature operates in relationship with the soul, spirit, and body. Timothy Ruth was constantly sketching these shapes in order to have them delivered. When he was working with his students and collaborators in the private sessions he was projecting these shapes into the collective medium, through the amplified fields of the witnesses.

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This where I stand, this is my voice. This is where I stand, this is my voice. The software is quartered by mountain and river advocates. The arch angels stand at the border. The voice is filled with light.

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This is not creativity, this is not creative writing. These are not arts and crafts, what I am hinting at is the Artes and Sciences of Her Medicine, the alchemy of making contact with a reality that does not usually exist, except in glances, except in gifts, until the lodge is raised in splendor, then the transmission gains traction and becomes a standing wave. 

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Timothy Ruth, because he stood outside of the Pillars, delivered the winds of desolation, the potentials of creation and destruction, the neutral force of raw power without a ground. You saw him swept up in it, only when he was moving with the speed of his interior winds did he find the continuity of the wave. This was a burden and no one is to blame, you are blameless, forgive yourself.

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Expert from Liner Notes of AKABAS an unreleased album by Timothy Ruth written by myself and him over the years (1996-200) at war with a world who rejects the spirit:

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RYNZNU TETSET SYNEXEN OMNIBUS

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This might be the answer to your first question or rather its quaint aroma next to those lumps of numb living meat as cross hair tetrahydrus outline bygone pathways this side may mimic the pattern of smoke rising on earth not where gravity is concerned but when these forming outside this language becomes communicable.

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The reciprocates of saint scrapping all along like the high wobbling call starting some no legged footrace shall lend us a champion tail feathered pistol whipped patsy pushing platinum as if one persons routine forms gathering bands in the image of men but one tenth in heights entropic magnetos shower the cosmos in milky white light. It may be recognized as a mere reaction to the dowery of man in its infantile stages of progress, thus making every visibly particle contestant in becoming a noun, verb or handrail for man to understand what little use words have in dynamic macrocosms.

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On what leg doest the conjuror of fields governing certain patented mathematical processes decree such notorious claims as to be sure of times invested interest in subscribing to momentary volatile conditions in which forms of life dust owes its very nature of quantifiable impressions due to magnitudes far removed of human certainty with in which what lied beyond fortuning some fate with equitable borders of simplistic roman numerals. As the onset of why coordinates with some tangent the most conclusive evidence on its quark gluon plasmatic nature and the basic requirements of household cold fusion. But to what surface may the edge of a lonely zero rely upon? It is but yet another fuzzy field of calculating logistics in the ever changing vacuum of transmutation?

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Listen, we have prescribed no more lies than there were before but seriously now this time this states we have witnessed Madame Blavatsky moving her left hand is spherical motions near the stone gluteus maximus of some well received sculpture by an unnamed man on the eve of  St John’s reanimation holding guard in front of a mailbox, in it a postcard from Berlin, on it a picture taken after the bombings in ’45, showing a church with a smoking roof. I wrote about churches behaving like hats that may smoke just as the highly interpreted big hat of the church and my words might end up under the eyes of a complete stranger..connecting some more…tuning those snares that make our cosmos swing and sing.

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On a more homely level I might say that someone may leave some marmalade stains on a piece of paper that has my words on it, crumbs falling form his/her mouth..ums and humphs breathing through his/her nose..coffee filling the kitchen with smart little clouds as the first spring sun peeps through the curtain of time travel unravel Mongol hole carpet Alanada cryptographorium genii ghost essence miss science.

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We have been wanting to present them to you to augment the mode they left on the pagoda as it has only recently been given to understand how to fly these machines it could get them together with the tower on the pagoda it would help every night through AIN SOPH AVER with the aid of GNOZ we are being shown the danger.

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The Ostara Dendrytik Caliphate rides on a buffalo, a buffalo named Mahisa. Made of thunder, lightning body of undomesticatable force. This is why there was never a buffalo cult. Lao Tzu rode out of the city on a buffalo when the culture he found his one eye in saw the new prince as bringer of great doom.  He rode out into the mountains, where the clicking of tongues ceased, where the torture that is corrupt culture ceased, and where she dwells, she that is silence supreme and loves all her children, where no elections are held, there are no judges, no books, no questions, all is in flux.

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A response to the liner notes after hearing of Tim’s death:

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The green Field Buffalo Demon MAHISA consumes disease in the foothills of APU ASANGATE

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All phenomenon are crossings (R.A Schwaller De Lubicz).

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I feel compelled as I stare into the rose petal of HER face towards the EAST, the house of the black snake of the MINGUS mountain and the valley of the headwaters of the VERDE river, the house of AIR, MICHAEL, and the SON of MAN. There is a sword made of a fine raiment, a filament, it stands as a boundary marker, a HERMAS, the buffalo cannot pass there, no matter how large its body becomes in the green field, its job is to stamp out the dark lines of binding. Under the influence of APU ASANGATE, they stomp out the adversary and consume his de-potentiated remains. NUESTA of lake TITICACA, come back, RETURN, come here to the center of the white MESA.

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All phenomenon are crossings.

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ELEMENTAL. The elements of course are uncreated and yet they have a field of creatures, not humanities, but beings nonetheless.  A pure sense, action, necessity, fortune. Consciousness included, moved by the force of life. There is a sword cloaked in a fine raiment of activated life, the light circles into the white MESA, in each quarter is a mountain and a river.  Did you know the mountain is filled with warriors, and doctors, riders, and healers, pharmacies and libraries, openings and children, Futurities.  The river princess and its opened source is in a valley, in the trees of this valley bright lanterns, ships, flaming apples shine in the darkness of your day. When the ships land in the tree the mountains take flight. Have you seen a mountain disappear? Flicker out of appearance? 

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All phenomenon are crossings. 

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Our nature is dictated by our subtlety. The qualities of our subtlety dictate the rhythms of our appearances and disappearances. At SATURN’S limit we offer ourself, then grow in capacity, our subtleness grows in capacity, our appearance grows in capacity. The ELEMENTALs and OWLS/CONDORS that travel with us expand and transform their capacity to enter usually closed kingdoms/times/spaces. The Mountains in our white MESA transform, and deliver their hidden possibilities, their subtle futurities. The hidden becomes the apparent, as we breathe in the AIR of lightning and turn the world of the gods inside out, they come through the portals of our windows and cells. MAHISA, stamp out any cord of darkness, you are a field of buffaloes, liberating the mountain, liberating the mountain. A SPRING arises in the valley and snakes into the canyon. Canyon boy, run through the green fields now without limit without pain, do your will without resistance in your subtle bliss body, bounding with joy, without limit. Help us build the city of GOLD, bring us the blueprints from the builders of the FUTURE iteration. We know we are here to watch and witness but my eye turns the corner and shines a path for those on the other side of the wall. 

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Every appearance is a crossing, and now you are crossed.

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ELEMENTAL BULL, taurus. You cannot put a hood over an initiate. You cannot run from SATURN, you cannot run from the LIMIT. For a star to become TRUE for it to enter into HER and BODY, the rejected stones, you have to give up the GHOST. Return the spirit to its beautiful ORIGIN. Become your radiant and open bliss body. You used to need outward defense to create a fortress in which the imagination can live free. But you learned that by transforming the qualities, your very own consciousness and field, you could transform the worlds. HER and SOMA recovered.

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MAHISA the buffalo demon consumes disease. In the field surrounding the great mountain advocate APU ASANGATE, filled with RIDERS, medicines, lights, delights, futures. Every river comes out of his CROWN. AIN SOPH AVER. Every creature appearing in HERBODY field becomes a liberator. If you are willing to offer your resistance to the new frequency it will go from a trickle to a torrent, just for you, a rainbow for you, circle of transformation, your eye in a new quantum field vibrating with ultraviolet color, a deluge of golden silver flecks to bless the once dry desert land. EXTRANATURAL ELEMENT.

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