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 From Quora's Agony Aunt section:

How do I pursue a career in the music industry while avoiding the "Illuminati"?


  1. Easy, they’re all dead.

  3. It’s worth at least reading about us, because you’re going to be dealing with a lot of us, just like you’re going to be dealing with people who take drugs for work and recreation. Whether you partake yourself, or choose not to, you’ll still have to have some other response than terrified loathing. We’re not as bad as it looks — like drug users, we’re not all monsters. That said, what do you need to know?


    1. I’d start by reading Masks of the Illuminati, by R. A. Wilson. It’s a relatively short novel, and will get you acquainted with the lay of the land, so to speak. I’d recommend the Illuminatus! trilogy, but it’s really long, and you’re a busy person. Also, look into Principia Discordia.

    3. Acquire a little knowledge of humanistic psychology. Carl Jung, Abraham Maslow, Gestalt, and Timothy Leary. Leary’s a bit out there (why wouldn’t he be?) but he’s mostly fun to read and you’ll get a good deal by reading between the lines. His autobiography is maybe the best bet, though he’s even written comic books!

    5. Learn a bit about “The Perennial Philosophy”. You can learn about this from “The Book” by Alan Watts. Although some of his writing is dated, and a bit sexist, he’s quick and funny and will set you straight on some things. I’ll leave the decision to explore further with Aldous Huxley (yup that Aldous Huxley), and various writings on the Dharma-based faiths to you.

    7. I’ll save the most controversial author for last. Aleister Crowley. Magick in Theory and Practice, although almost any book about Thelema will do. You’ll be surprised how many people have read and used his ideas. Not everyone who’s had a hit single casts a circle every night, but plenty of people have had this in their pasts.

  4. Yes, it’s going to be difficult, but there are a few guidelines. Deal only with faith-based music and musicians. Walk out on any party where they’re using any currently illicit substances, and don’t eat any pork products, unless you’ve seen it cooked (human flesh is often disguised this way). Be wary when dealing with the GLBT+, vegetarians, and (((those people))), they’re everywhere. Avoid anyone who calls themselves “spiritual”, or New age, even if their only seeming involvement is wearing a rose quartz crystal or doing Yoga. Most urban contemporary artists are surprisingly against the Illuminati, they’re only going along with their cruel masters. Become a practicing Christian, and attend a Bible-based church regularly. Practice Spiritual Warfare every day. Consider becoming a Republican.

As usual, one is true, one is false, and one is having fun with facts.

Some people think that "dealing with people who take drugs" means dealing drugs to people. No. I mean not screaming in horror when someone smokes pot, and threatening to call the police, when you should say "I don't hold with that here. But you can smoke....(outside, on the fire escape, behind the woodshed,...you get the idea). Needlework is up to your discretion.

There is a lot that is being said up above. I would take it easy with this one.

Hi, I'm Dr. Peter Swilling, prominent discredited psychiatrist possessed by the dark soul of your Friend Behr, Mr. Berhardt Illych Goats, a former patient of mine who I have now fashioned into a human high chair while also ulitilizing the legs of a woman I butchered at a recent nodermeet, Shaming Chickens in Our Nation's Heartland: A Late Summer Social Distancing Nodermeet. It was not all it was cracked up to be. Only 500 or so noders were in attendance. She was worthless as a noder. Worthless. So, I took her out. These are the kinds of things nodermeets are known for.

I never thought I would ever find myself enjoying sawing the limbs off people, but I do. I really do. Glad I found this to fill the hole in my life.

At conventions I am sometimes bombarded with questions. From the audience. I am. I really am. You ought to accept this. You ought to. I mean, what is your problem, anyway? Twisted old fruit. Like a lime in the mickey bag for fuck sake.

Have you ever covered your genitals in salt and then put slugs on it? I have. Great fun. Pull it out at parties. Your guests will love it. Something to see. It really is. Really. I am not shitting you here. Great backwoods fun.

How many of you noders are backwoods fuckwits? Have you ever had a bully shove your pinky finger in a pencil sharpener and CRANK? I have. You could learn things from me. Call for an appointment. Operators are standing by. I have advertised on buses. I charge $80 per hourly session. That is down from that $190 per hour I got when I was still considered "legit" (before being discredited as a "quack"). YMMV.

I get my jollies watching Knot's Landing type shows. How do you get your jollies? What do you watch on television? Tell me about it. Over coffee. At a professional and adequately conducted psychiatric session. Call me up. I have a nice secretary who answers the phone. She isn't as FUCKING INTENSE as I am. And I get FUCKING INTENSE during therapy sessions. I get right up in your face and I WILL hit you and hit you hard if I disagree with anything you are saying or find it offensive. Keep it up and I WILL end you. In my office. Bodies keep stacking up. But seriously. Call me. We'll talk. Over coffee. Sliding scale.

I've done things in my office that my mother would not be proud of. Even though there is a nice bathroom just twenty feet away, I squat and take a shit on the floor so my maid has to clean it up. And I sit there, proudly, at my desk telling her, "I think that is mine." Can you imagine? Can you? What stories she must tell her young children at home. And I mean, what I do is, I pull my pants down around my ankles and make a face, squat down, and just push one or two out. Sometimes three good sized ones. Sometimes it is like oatmeal. Just a mess. "Clean it up, you worthless person," I tell my maid. "This will show you that it is better to be born into a rich family than a poor one." And then I laugh hysterically while she cleans my shit off the floor. Beautiful. What life is really all about. Moments like that.

Medically yours,

Dr. Peter Swilling

Today I am thinking about undone things, the things that could have been, yet never were. The kitchen, bath, and flooring company I was so excited about not that long ago lost all of my business by not getting back to me in a timely fashion. I had stopped by a smaller place that specialized in flooring, and I thought I had found what I wanted, but then I wondered if it made more sense to lump everything together, perhaps in the interest of increasing efficiency. Now I see the value in what I originally liked about the flooring guy. He knows his job, and does one single thing, selling flooring, better than these people who try to do multiple things. I was able to take one of the sample boards home, and I'm so happy with my choice now that I have seen it up against different appliances as well as laying on my current floor.

I still have a lot of stuff to deal with, way more than I would like, but getting rid of things that have perceived value or utility is more difficult here. I'm going back in time and thinking about the choices we made when I was a homeowner in my twenties. How naive, how foolish, and how a lot of things that shouldn't have worked out given our lack of expertise and experience ended up being okay, or even smashing decisions decades later. My art gallery with plants is coming together, and I'm really excited by that flickering glimmer of light at the end of what feels like a very long and dark tunnel. Another new thing I've been trying is acceptance, rather than wish things, or people, were other than the way that they are, I try to actively stay in the moment, remind myself that feelings and circumstances are temporary, and things will change again, probably sooner rather than later, although not always. 

Rather than resist things, I try to let them pass in their own way and course, it doesn't always work, and it's certainly not the easiest thing to do, but I do feel as if it is an important lesson and life skill to have. The present is it, the past is gone, the future may, or may not arrive, and the future of our thoughts, hopes, or wishes, is rarely in alignment with what we experience when we do encounter that next moment. What this exercise has done is help reveal how controlling I am, despite my wishes to be otherwise. I'm so busy trying to negotiate and make sure that my own harm is limited, my own wants and needs are met, things are done the way I prefer, going through possible repercussions, and potential strategies that I exhaust myself. This is silly, unwise, and while I still catch myself clenching my teeth, and falling back into old unproductive habits, there are more moments where I am able to relax my jaw, and I even had one anxiety free day.

It's still hard to hear things that I don't want to, the other day I was visiting someone I love and care about, I mentioned that I should get going, and then ended up staying, and going forward I'm going to leave the first time I say that I will, because after a lovely afternoon, the conversation ended up on what for me was a very bitter note. It's astonishing how much attention I pay to other people, and the funny thing is that I'm consistently thinking this about other people, especially those at work. Over the weekend I had one of the guys I work with come over to take down some of my kitchen cabinets. We had a fabulous time, I got to know him better, and I was very sad when something unexpected happened to him out in the field. I called him on my way out the door, during a meeting I had let people know that they could call the office to vent, if needed, and I thanked him for taking me up on the offer.

Today I had tears in my eyes at work, not because I was particularly sad althoug that was true at some moments, but because I was so tired, and in some pain. Nobody noticed, and I'm not sure what they would have done if they did, but it was kind of an awful situation to be in, and for what may have been the thousandth time I wondered why I was still at this job. I was reading the book of Jonah, it's very short, and as I was reading I thought to myself, each of us has our own personal version of Ninevah. This morning I woke up, and I was happy. I was energetic, filled with ideas, and proud of myself for preparing meals the night before so I wasn't scrambling to put something together that morning. Nothing really happened at work, but we were sitting in the office that my boss uses, and I felt so utterly alone and distant from the team that it was almost scary to me.  

The radio in that office was playing Bon Jovi, and I let my mind pay attention to the song. Lately I have been trying to really listen to music, not singing along, but attempting to be more fully present, and I am in awe of singers, song writers, musicians, composers, it's a world that I do not belong to, and I feel as if these glimpses into their hearts and minds are to be treasured. I play my own music, other people at work call it elevator music, they're not referring to what I'm listening to specifically, but if there is classical music playing while they are on hold, a comment will typically be made. I'm trying to see the good in them, notice their flaws without pointing them out, or dwelling on them, and reminding myself that every moment that ticks brings me closer to the moment I will walk out the door, and leave that world behind.

Today I have few answers, not many questions, I am happy to be at home, and for the first time in my entire life, it feels like my actual home. The space is mine and I can do the dishes, or leave them, hang clothes, or put them in my new dryer. I shrunk a sweater that I wish I would have left on the rack. I asked how much it was, and decided twenty dollars was an acceptable price. I didn't like the buttons near the wrists, and I know myself well enough to realize that my idea of replacing them was fine in theory, but I would never purchase new buttons, and if I did, I wouldn't sew them on, so perhaps it's a good thing that the sweater no longer fits before I had a chance to wear it. A past version of me might have tried to talk myself out of these feelings, but I am angry at myself for buying it, and acknowledging that without trying to force my thoughts in another direction feels like progress.

Yesterday I bought myself some summer clothes. I didn't really think too much about any of it, and walked out with a pair of jeans that were quite expensive. I could have taken them back, but instead, I ordered things to go with them. Call it an act of self love, or care, selfish indulgence, a practical act since I don't own much else that is designed for the warmer months of the year, I did it, and I'm not even really sure why I am writing about it other than it is on my mind. Speaking of things undone, I could wear these clothes almost anywhere, but where I don't go, who I don't see, may be critically important. Every decision is a forgoing of other things one might have done, or left incomplete. Moving was a terrific upheaval, and at the moment it feels as if my life can't possibly settle down, but it will. I am sure of that.

Until next time,


Even my paintings are different now, and I don't know how to feel about that constant companion changing on me even though it may be that I have gained skill.



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