There's no doubt of my love of all Hallows eve. The season itself just sends my dark little heart a flutter...literally. You can feel the flutter in the air. It gives me butterflies in my stomach. My imagination takes me to some great places with the mere breeze of crisp air flowing my cloak. Memories of real life ghost hunting and chasing things that went bump in the night invade my head. I've started sharing some of those on my show, the Darkhours, all during my "Shocktober" celebration.

Now the following might disturb some. You see, I'm not that huge a fan of costumes. I've blogged about this a few years ago and I don't think I ever fully explained why, nor did I extol what my ideal Halloween would be.

Last week I went to a haunted event at the Forest of Fear with my buddy. I actually sort of dressed for the event, but it was really my usual going out clothes, yet in a more simple, casual manor. I had on a black turtleneck shirt, a wide brimmed gaucho hat, black jeans, a Pentagram belt buckle, my large silver bat pendant, a leather vest, black cowboy boots and a long black duster. My friend said I looked like wrestling "Undertaker". When I got to the haunted house section, I totally had that "Lost Boys" feel going on. The people working the event running about as the "carnie" help/ haunted house ghouls, actually embraced me more as one of them than one of the quivering masses of Jell-O in attendance. Non of them bothered to try to scare me. I think they thought of me as kindred. I admit that I enjoyed doing my own creepy saunter with the cloak flowing in the winds throughout the drizzling rained event.

What always bothered me about Halloween was the whole "costuming" thing. I understand maybe getting into a character to create an ambiance, but sometimes it just gets on my nerves. When or why does masquerade have to have anything to do with Halloween? If you're dressed as a sexy witch but have no belief in the occult, why did you bother? Think about it this way...you go to a party on Halloween. You see someone who attracts you (perhaps because they're not wearing some horrid mask. Why a single person would wear a mask to a party uncoupled, I don't know) and you think that somewhere in their costume, there's some sort of secret reflection of their personality in it, when in fact it's a total lie. That sexy witch? That hot Dominatrix? That naughty nurse? That hot priest? The kinky cop? The sinful nun? That wicked Warlock? ALL A HOAX! To me, it's a bunch of boring people playing dress up for a night to try and have one day of excitement in their humdrum non-Epical lives. Believe you me, had they lived an Epical lifestyle, they'd be excited every day of life and actually become somewhat of they're little Halloween hidden desires were.

This has nothing to do with those who just want a reason to wear a truly creative costume like the ones you see in Wizard Magazine where someone is an actual working Transformer costume or maybe a favorite superhero.

My ideal Halloween would probably be a party in a large mansion or house. I'd prefer that it were in some place isolated, but not important. People would dress in sexy dark clothes, possibly Goth or vampire inspired. Remember the first Underworld movie at the Vampire Mansion's lounge where everyone just looked like a room full of cool?
That's what I'm thinking. Old Victorian style furniture, maybe a fireplace and hopefully a hedge maze in the back. I'd want the hedge maze to be haunted....even if you have to hire people, but real ghosts would be nice. I'd love to just have a party charged with sex-magic energies, maybe in another room hold seances and another try to raise
a few demons and open some gates and basically and literally raise Hell. I think that would be an awesome Halloween. Some mystic would find some of that irresponsible, but seriously, I'd just like to get a bunch of like minded people together to harness the energies of the night and have a sick, twisted, spooky time. Being in a night club with hundreds of idiots in bad costumes portraying characters completely removed from their actual psyche would annoy me to no end.

To me, Samhain has nothing to do with costumes or candy. No, I'm not a Halloween Scrooge, nor am I too old for traditional Halloween, I just would prefer a different take on Halloween. Think "Addams Family". No costumes, just pull together something spooky and come over for a howling good time. One day, when I get to the point in life I want to be at, I will have a party like this...and all those who think this is a cool idea are welcome.

Willie Aames, former child star from "8 is Enough" and then "Charles in Charge" filed for bankruptcy last year claiming debts over $350,000. After going down the drug and alcohol route that most young 80's stars appear to do, he "found god", turned "born again christian" and then and ordained minister. Then from 1995 to 2004 he created a bible thumping, lightsaber toting, caped and armored superhero named "Bibleman". By 2008 he had lost his car, his wife and now they're foreclosing on his house.

Now you see why.

Can someone tell me where all this faith got the famous "Bibleman"? Does service to this god force you into poverty and misery? Is this the "loving god" they speak of? If money is the root of all evil, then Rev. Aames must be the holiest of men.

In another world in an alternate dimension, a message comes from a far away place somewhat similar to ours but
at the same time, opposite.

This odd other dimensional doppelganger merely wishes to give us glad tidings this balmy Hallows eve....

Starflight was moving along in good form. In the months that passed we had trained well. Our mental prowess was increasing, our paranormal abilities were growing and we were getting stronger.

The team was getting more confident as, well when you think of it, hese were a rather rag tag bunch of misfits. The following is a lost chapter in the history that probably was the benchmark of our little brood.

One day... I answered the door of my dorm room, Room 213. In walked Joey M. He went over to the 3 bowl shaped plastic chairs my mother had given me to take to college. I believe I mentioned in a previous chapter about Starflight, they were numbered. "1 Commander" was on one, "2" and "3" with striped relative ranks in gold, silver and copper paint was stenciled on them. Mind you, this was college, I was about 18, "young, dumb and full of cum" as they say in the ghetto. But for my young years, in certain things I was wise, or so I thought as I tried to tie this band of vagabond psychics together.

I digressed. Joe walks in and sits in the sacred "1 Commander" chair. He watches my eyes light up in utter shock. My chain of command... usurped?!? He had a look in his eyes of defiance. There was something definitely on his mind he wanted to get out. He smiled and said to me, "you need to know something... Something about me I haven't shown you. Once I do, you'll know why I did that. Shut the door and close all the windows. "I shut the door. I put aside my feelings of annoyance as I wanted to get to the bottom of this outrageous attempt to undermine my command.

What followed next and what I had witnessed with my own eyes is one of those life instances that still boggles me to this day.

University of Bridgeport. A melting pot of Connecticut life. Although I might have thrown away much of my college career there, it was an amusing time in my life. Still opining over the emotional loss of my girlfriend/ metaphysical teacher, I began to live the adage that "Love is not actually loving that person, it's wanting to BE that person". So I
did. I thought of ways to be more like her for to me she was like some wiccan goddess... All powerful with abilities far beyond those of mortal men. Worldly beyond my wildest imaginations as I was so naive about many things. The sophisticated "Modern Woman" Billy Joel sang about.

Such an impression on the impressionable makes it easy to enthrall. I was well into her spell at that time and now it was post Rhode Island, where I was broken up with via telephone.

At University of Bridgeport, I dove deeper into my newly blossoming occult abilities. I had learned that "those who have it, attract others who do..." so I set out on my attraction. In little to no time at all, I had discovered many in my dorm who were rather gifted. Like a young Professor X, I sought out my psychic X-Men. There was "Ratt", and "Chief" (a real full blooded Native American heavy metal guitarist), Christine, Joe M. and a slew of others. Joe M. was the most special of the bunch. He was probably the only actual like telekinetic I'd ever met, but that's a story for another chapter. In this edition, I want to tell you of a few other happenstance's.

In college I was much more free with who and what I was. I think I wore my occultism on my sleeve. I was going to tell you some college stories about my first group experiences, but I thought it best to give you a fun anecdotal story that heralded my reign of metaphysical terror in college.

It was a warm, clear moonlit night in Providence. It was summer in this New England town. I was attending summer courses at Rhodes Island School of Design. I was much younger then. A more unrefined lad, full of unbridled raw passions and emotions. I was angry that night. It was a time of sorrow and rage. My girlfriend and teacher of metaphysics had left me. She broke my heart... the one I had at the time. I was upset of course. Living life from day to day, I pondered my courses of action. I was hundreds of miles away, stranded in another state with no vehicle. Hell, I didn't even have a license .

It was midnight. If any of you have read this category before, you might have read about an incantation I did which yielded some rather grave results. This time I did it again. I won't get into why or who the target was, but after my teachings I had learned many things. One of them was that any occult exercise one does, if done properly should leave one extremely drained and exhausted .

What does Halloween mean really? In some ways I have great pride in its power, its majesty, its haunting vision. The dead bring forth ethereal powers where some make their covenants with worlds forces and dimensions other than those we can normally see or hear. To me and the Epical Church, it's like New Years Day. A time to reflect, summon and ask for guidance and help. To swear allegiance to the powers that be. To draw down the moon and become one with Mars. To make way for a new world order.

In a world where we are over run with the winged Right, fight wars for all the wrong reasons in the names of gods that could care less, and live a life where we are being oppressed by religion to the point of the stifling of freedom and free thought...take the time to try and do something that matters. We are all searching for answers and yet we don't realize the answer is within us. Like Shakespeare once said; "the fault lies not in our stars but in ourselves". Think about that when you put on your costume tonight.

Not to take the festivity out of it, I think many of use neglect the true meaning of Halloween and yet it seems to have many.

Read the extended entry for a brief analysis of Halloween on both sides of the spectrum :

Halloween fun:

So I live on a hill.

It's a steep hill.

A really steep hill.

In some ways I feel I live in San Francisco. One night I go to take out the garbage and I see this...thing... Looming above the roof tops many blocks away and much lower than we. I stopped in my tracks at this 1am hour and a panic ran through me. I ran inside to get a camera and it was gone when I got back. I sat there about 35 minutes before I saw it rear it's head again and tried to map a pattern for it. Now can anyone tell me what that is? This is an untouched photo except for the arrow. To me it looks like a cockpit of some alien craft. I know I know... You're laughing, and I can hear you giggling. People tell me it's a crane and yet I've seen many cranes out and about and none of them look like this. I see black windows and some heinous looking neck that looks more like a coloumn than a latice work of steel. This machine seemed to start bobbing and weaving as if it were sucking up abductees. It truly boggled me. The next day, I went to see if I saw a crane down there and lo and behold I saw nothing. I am NOT a madman. The truth is out there.

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was learning the powers of the mind many years ago in my late teens. I had already used my gifts unwittingly in my younger days

I had acquired teachers in my young adulthood. It was recommended that I have both a male and female teacher... And so it began...

After this post, I'm gonna kick myself out of the depression mode I've been in on this blog.

I had this dream. It plagued me 3 times in one night. Each time I woke up I was crying. All I recall now as that I remember in the dream was I was crying over the loss of a black and white cat. No matter how many times I would go back to sleep, I'd awake to the same dream and I woke up sobbing like a little girl. I never told anyone about it. I was ashamed that I would wake up crying. I would awaken each time and frantically search my bed for Bey. Then I'd find him, pat him on the head and fall back to sleep. Then it would happen again and again. All in one night.

Shortly after Christmas, Webkittyn found the lump on Claude. I never correlated the two. She cut her holiday vacation at her parents off early for that, came home and we made vet appointments. The odd part was...

Metaphysics and the world of the paranormal had always fascinated me. I grew up in a comic book house. My brother used to buy them so I would read them. He was a true collector. He would buy "Doctor Strange: Master of the Mystic arts" and I would tear into them. They were written with great research to keep alot of it authentic.

By the time I was 11, although I was attending catholic schools, I started taking out books on witchcraft from the library. My first book was "The Modern Witches Spellbook" by Sarah Lyddon Morrison. My mother thought it was a phase. They always do. I would search for whatever "spells" I thought would do me good.

There was a boy in school. A year older than I, as I was skipped a grade, named Terrence Bell. He teased me. I loathed him.

Now most occult practise is based on two things: Belief and emotion vs. The brains psychic energies. One is a science, the other a religion. When you're very young, you're a ball of raw unbridled emotion. The "spell" is merely a bunch of words to help shape your psychic imagination and form it into a tool.

Terry Bell annoyed me to no end. So one day, I read this book, looking for something harmless. I found a spell to "break someones heart". This sounded rather amusing. However, what do 12 year olds love? They are at the beginnings of the anti-parent/adult rebellious stage. Terry had no pets so he had no othee love to help his heart break.

At the stroke of midnight, with curtains drawn on a waxing moon... I began my ritual with the materials I had found around the house. Sometimes spells seem to have alot more ritualistic and symbolic items not easily attained by a jobless 11 year old. But this one was simple.

With all the hatred I could muster, I fired my psychic missle into the air. Then, a tad tired, I fell asleep right after I was done.

The next morning, Terry is in school, crying his eyes out. I'm squirming in my seat, giggling with glee, for it seemed a heart had broken and I believed I was responsible. The principle would prod him: "Terrance! TERRANCE!! What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

His answer still haunts me to this day as I feel I am responsible due to the circumstances. Had I delved into forces I should not have? In the metaphysical world, there's no such thing as coincidence. I believe this was the the pivotal moment in my belief system when I heard his reply.

Samhain Shoctober tidings to you all...

It's mischief night, in the season of the witch. Tomorrow is Samhain, the eve of all Hallows. The night the dead return. My favourite time of year. Not for the poser costume parties, but for the air about us, filled with wonder and mysticism. A romantic time for some that makes our dark hearts swoon. No costumed capers for me... Just somber reflection and the calling down of the forces of darkness to help guide my hand.

This entire season has been odd in a way. For the first time in 2 years, I've gotten off my ass and taken a sabatical to to my new engineers studio, referred by my old one. We spent 2 days tracking my newest project :"Consecrate, anthem of the athame". It's turned itself into a sort of mystic fight song for the metaphysically inclined. I met Rob (Merlin, I believe they nicknamed him) for the first time last Friday night after a 115 mile drive to almost Boston. What a hike. I checked into the Motel 6 and proceeded to immediately make my way to the home studio. His house is great... A cozy ranch in the Conneticut suburbs. the studio room may have been a tad tight, but it's mojo and atmosphere more than made up for its size. Rob is a genius. We got along great and clicked in wackiness... Though he's a beer salesman by day, at least there's free beer. He could create amazing rhythm tracks and plays a wicked guitar. I'm having trouble with one thing though... I can't remember which Rob/Bob did the guitar on "Darkside" because it was so long ago. The song itself is darker and more somber/spooky than Darkside. It has greater potential and a better job on the vocals so far. He feels I should do Darkside again because he thinks it would come out better. I feel it's good enough to shop, but it will be better in post production.

There's alot of work still left to do, but the foundation is strong. The incorporation of a heartbeat back beat coupled with some interesting variable drum rifts and key changes unheard in Darkside. The gothic horror movie style strings give a serious dark feel to it. I'll need to add more. It'll be quite powerful. I've rewritten
the intro...the first one irked me. It was going in the wrong direction. This song is sort of a calling to arms for all the worlds hidden occultists to come out from the shadows and celebrate their gifts and not hide them because of the religious right or Bush's inane insanity.

The guitars will be reworked, the choirs will be built, the tag tune will be added, the strings will be implemented, the bass line filled... All will come to sweet fruition. Currently, I'm using this as my Halloween anthem to fire up the forces within me. One more after this and I can start shopping to my contacts. 4 more and I'll have stronger case. I need to be signed by Spring I should hope... But you never know. I'm just about ready to hunt for bandmates. I also need to get the main website finished. I'm a busy boy. Let alone having to work on re-acquiring my muse, which is a job within itself. But I have regained something I thought I had lost....hope.

I'm pumped...what can I say? I said it last year... It's not about candy and costumes and parties or parades... It's about power... The future... The mission. At least that's what it is to me.