Part One of the ‘Everett Tucker can’t write well’ series on Mystic Politics.
by Everett Tucker - I was just thinking back to a lecture I recently watched by founder and editor of Skeptic Magazine, Michael Shermer.
Dr. Shermer was answering a question that I can’t recall with the observation that people very rarely admit when they were wrong, they slink away in a huff after an argument and debate, and upon reflection quietly realize they were incorrect. No press conference. No big announcement. The next time you see them they probably won’t even mention it. But they know. They know they were wrong, and it is embarrassing. It is especially embarrassing for those who had been condescending in delivering the incorrect position, for those that had been rude, for those that had goaded and name-called.
I have an announcement. I was wrong. It is embarrasing. And I have barely been called out on it.
When mystic politics first started I was going through a transitional period in my life. I had just had a series of failed forays into the capitalistic spheres. I ended up couch surfing in Laguna Niguel with a frenemy of my little brother who apparently saw in me a way out of his situation. Whatever his reasons were, he offered for me to crash in his apt for next to nothing a month and off I went. I left San Diego and the string of burnt bridges and alienated friends, families and associates- and landed in Laguna Niguel, the ugly little sister of Laguna Hills.
Something happened. Recently emancipated from excesses in alcohol and other vices, and a circle of ‘friends’ a step out of prison, I apparently had a large abscess that nature abhored and attempted to fill. It is hard to track the steps that lead you into dissociation with reality, but as best as I can tell it was smoking medical grade herb from the dispensary while I watched history channel stuff on Nostradamus & 2012 (in 2008) and listening to rap like immortal technique, compiled with new-found time, the fact that no one from my past was forcing me to adhere to ideas they had about me, and maybe stress over my impending mediocrity and failures at entrepreneurial ventures.
For whatever reason I began looking into freemasonry and secret societies. Simple enough. A few hundred youtube videos later I was contemplating 5th dimensional reptilians, NLP, mass mind control, Freeman Fly inspired musings on occult rituals, and saw things through a vigilant citizen and pseudo-occult media lens. Zeitgeist came out and I was ready to go gargle Jacques Fresco’s socialist balls. I KNEW everything was derivative of astrotheology and that all religions were the same story.
About this time I jumped to Oracle Radio and started trolling the chat like the moralfag I was attempting to be. This is where I first realized that most tea party folk, which I had supported in the YouTube community, were a bunch of Christian Libertarian Anarcho-capitalist bunker-down fucktards- and I didn’t like that. They didn’t get that every human is just here temporarily, and that their guns and militias were just derivative of not being at peace with the knowledge they are just visiting here- sort of like a gnostic fleshy prison.
I longed to break free of my body, but looking back it was probably my situation I wanted to break away from. I think bomb weed eased me through a depression, and upon exiting the other side of that depressed fog landed me in a susceptible place. I was in a paradigm where I KNEW I had a spirit, a soul, and astral form, and ethereal consciousness. I KNEW scientists just didn’t get it- how could they? They aren’t as smart as me and the Freemasons control all the universities- alumni, degrees, mortarboard hats, saturnalian dresses, sacred feminine envy- DUH!- totes obvious.
How can scientists see the forrest from the trees when the Rothschild led Bilderbergers are brainwashing everyone with mass-propaganda, nlp in tv, and haarp? Those poor sheep were fodder for all those scary esoteric types who misuse all the info I had acquired —from the Internet.
I suspect a lot of cults get started like this. Had I been more personable and charismatic I think it wouldv’e happened organically. I seem to do a good job of impressing my view on others still riding the fence.
This individulaism led me to want to do it all on my own. My own site, own radio stream, all me. I was gonna fix the bad info out there promoted by people who don’t realize there is a universal architect (DUH- founding fathers were deists…).
In aggregating media for the radio stream I discovered all sorts of new narratives, from occult of personality, bill cooper’s hour of the time, Gnostic Media, Thelema Coast to Coast, Coast to Coast, Red Ice, etc. I started devouring them all. From the Mystic Mind podcast to Sitting Now- I started to realize that this universal knowledge I thought I had tapped into, like Cayce’s akashic Records- like djwal khul, Lam, an Enochian angel, whatever had whispered secrets in my ear, was conflicting with itself.
I realized that all these would-be prophets were weaving narratives that didn’t QUITE work together. How could Franz Bardon’s magick work in the same system as Poke Runyan’s or Aleister Crowley’s? Didn’t this indicate that the systems where all in your head? Wait…. can anyone prove they actually evoked, invoked, or summoned a phantasm, egregore, demon, or angel? Hmmmm….
Why did Michael Aquino disagree with Anton Levey? Why did John Todd and Alex Jones not quite overlap? Why did christian conspiracy which I gobbled up without realizing, always presuppose the devil, heaven, hell, lucifer, jesus, et al? (I ignored these as metaphoric). Why didn’t these christians who were SO RIGHT about the NWO and their plans for the world screw it all up by placing Lucifer at the top of the ladder? Silly bears! Lucifer is the good guy- Annie Besant, Anne Bailey, and HPB told me so. -DUH.
By this time I was doing 4 hours of radio a day, sensationalizing headlines and weaving them into this overly syncretic piece-meal narrative or Big History I had worked out. I read everything. I was was reciting literature like the Book of Abremelin, Initiation into Magick, and Black Magick by Michael Aquino on-air. I was reading, and making fun of, a larger and larger segment of alternative historians and would-be mystics daily. I lol’d for 10 minutes about David Wilcock’s website and assertion of being the reincarnation of Edgar Cayce. But… what separated him from me? Commitment to the meme? Attempting to start a cult?
I was just starting to position myself in the real estate the kooky and quirky occupied. I was looking at Rense and Red Ice and licking my chops at the prospect of digging into their audience to share my OBVIOUSLY SUPERIOR KNOWLEDGE (echo) …And then- my site got cracked. It was hacked and defaced and I didn’t know what to do so I laid low while I read books on cyber-security, redesigned the site (on Joomla- lol) and planned my triumphant return.
Not doing radio 4 hours a day gave me more time to read, and that is exactly what I did. I read approx 200 books on everything from conspiracy theory to the history of religion to mystery schools to mythology to political science, and when I emerged- I found I no longer believed in a fraction of the esoteric hooey I had been so gleefully dispensing from my pulpit.
After watching 50 or so debates on atheism and god and religion and science- I went from cheering when the TRUE BELIEVER flummoxed the STUPID ATHEIST, to nodding when the atheist said: prove it. I had become all too aware of the thousands of conflicting notions on god, religion, conspiracy, etc, and knew that the only way to navigate the treacherous path of truth— was science and logic.
I had been saved from eschatological millenarian infused conspiracy paradigms by the four horsemen of new atheism who showed me that real illumination doesn’t have a fucking thing to do with bronze-age attempts at philosophy- i.e. mystery schools.
I went from taking comfort in knowing that there was some architect I would experience in this life or others, to taking comfort in not knowing, to being comforted by asking someone professing a belief in the fantastic to PROVE IT. To challenging people to ANALYZE WHY they believe what they believe- and to examine why they believe it if it can’t be proven.
The assertion that people make that I don’t ‘get it’ always makes me smile. Oh, I get it. I know your thought process. I have been there. I KNOW why you just can’t understand how I can reject this beautiful construct you have built in your head- you see it all around you! I must be blind!
I apologize. I was wrong. It is embarrassing as fuck. My ears have been glowing red thinking about the dumb things I so confidently professed belief in- holographic enochian guardian angels and trans-plutonian aliens channeling messages? Andromedan Nordic blue skinned hominids? AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON SIRIUS B. Fuck you, Robert Temple.
I have no excuse. Maybe I lost my mind? Have I found it? Who knows. I know that when I confidently proclaim my disbelief in anything supernatural, or answer ‘I don’t know’ to questions of god, I feel pretty good about my positions. I have examined them, and they wern’t the ones I began with. Are you ready to examine your belief? Are you so invested in it that it won’t let you go?
What is the one question you want explored that you haven’t found yet on your quest? I don’t want to leave you empty handed. This just scratched the surface- help me get the rest of the words out by asking questions or giving feedback below in the comments. I will attempt answers and you might inspire me to write the second installment of the ‘Everett Tucker can’t write well’ series…
Everett Tucker is a Pageview Journalist, Pseudo Philosopher, & Director of Mystic Politics.
Image (Abake/WikiMedia Commons)
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