Liber Call Me Al

Tag! You're It!

Things get rough from here on out; show not this chapter to thy friends. Speling is flunked; all was not taught. It's a Hawk! It's a Higher Plane! It's PA-RA-KEET!

Now first, let's get it straight that, as Gods go, I am one bad-ass dude. I will kick their asses.

Choose ye an island! (I recommend the Atolls of Tahiti.)

Fortify it with eight vitamins and iron! (From this shall wonder be bred.)

Fill it with all kinds of crap!

I will give you a fire engine.

With it ye shall hose down the people, and none shall stand before you.

Run away! Sneak around behind them! Shoot them in the back! This is the law of the Battle of Cowardice: we shall practice in my back yard.

Get the Souvenir Postcard of Cairo itself; set it in thy photo album — the one with the dirty pictures of Egyptian children and camels — and it shall be your Keepsake for ever. It shall not fade, or at least not much, for miraculous four-color printing shall adhere to it eternally. Toss it in the bottom of your underwear drawer and forget about the damned thing.

Save this portion for your records! I forbid argument. I forbid questions. Hell, I forbid going to the bathroom! I will make it easy for you to mess up your house and to destroy your home town. Thou shalt have danger and trouble; thy weight is 195 pounds. Bar-B-Que is with thee. Worship me with gin and tonic; worship me with scotch & with water! Let women threaten me with sharp objects; thou knowest I love it. Let beer flow to my glass. Step on anyone who gets in the way; mine is a modest proposal!

Mutilate cattle, little and big, in remote areas of Wyoming: after, a c***d [DELETED AT THE REQUEST OF THE O.T.O LEGAL FUND].

Ha! I didn't say "Simon Magus says!"

I'll get around to it, so be patient. Yeah? And your wife, too!

Be careful what you wish for — I may give it to you. Hell, I may anyway.

No contract, explicit or implicit, is hereby established between the party of the first part, the entity ?Who-Vast! (hereafter EW), and the party of the second part, the Master 999 (hereafter M999). EW assumes no liability for damages caused by or consequent to use, misuse, abuse, or disuse of Liber Call Me AL (hereafter "Nancy") by M999. M999 assumes full responsibility for promulgation, commentary, and routine maintenance of "Nancy," and for all civil or criminal actions pertaining to or caused by "Nancy" or related material. Your state may not permit exclusion of prophetic liability for channeled, inspired, or extraterrestrial communications. In this case, state law supersedes the Logos of the Aeon.

Don't worry; fear neither tax auditors, nor auto mechanics, nor weird fuzzy things you find late at night under your bed, nor anything. Money fear not, but rather the lack of it; nor laughter of the folk folly — with a religion like this you're in for a lot of it. Nuts are your snack as you drink your Lite; and I am the force that bends your arm.

You know all that stuff in Chapter 2 about mugging the weak and the poor? Well, do that, but this time wear steel-toed boots.

The postcard they shall call the Souvenir of Cairo; count its name on thy fingers, and it shall be unto thee as, um, 5.

But WHY??? Because of the fall of Because, you little brat. Now go play on the freeway.

Redecorate thy temple with genuine oil paintings from the GALLERY ART SHOW at the Cairo Hilton! Seascapes, clowns, Elvis on velvet, generic farm buildings, and waterfalls are only a few of the many ORIGINAL ARTWORKS available at ridiculously low prices for a LIMITED TIME! Sofa size, portrait size, and our special TEMPLE SIZE paintings are all AVAILABLE NOW!

Buy a whole set, to carry thy Decorating Theme. I am the visible Object of Worship, if you know what's good for you. It's my Aeon, and I'll scry if I want to. The others can just wait their turns; for you and your wife are they, and the winners of the Prophecy Clearing House Giveaway. What is this? Ask Ed McMahon.

For perfume mix oil and vinegar and Thunderbird: then gasoline and styrofoam, and afterward soften and smooth down with rich dark beer.

The best beer is of the Irish, Guiness; then beers of Germany, or imported from the Orient; then of Australia; then of Canada or Mexico; then some American pisswater, no matter the brand.

This drink; of this make bread and eat 'til you pop. This hath also another use; let beer be laid in a shallow dish in the garden, with sticks propped up on its sides: it shall become full of snails and other things which have been ravaging your garden.

These dispose of, reflecting on the karmic implications of drowning in beer.

Also, these make good escargot if you want to catch them live and go to all that trouble.

Also, ye shall reek of garlic.

Furthermore, if you keep them in corn meal awhile, they're supposed to taste better. You try it first and let me know.

My altar is of open brass work. Burn thereupon, and all the incense will fall through the openings and ruin your new carpet.

You will meet a tall dark stranger who will piss on you.

From gold forge extremely soft, yellowish steel!

Be ready to run away or to hide!

But your Townhouse shall endure throughout the centuries: though with dry rot and termites it be unsafe and condemned, yet an invisible house there lieth in a heap, and shall remain until the zoning laws change; when hell is frozen over and the national debt repaid. Another load of ready cash shall then be spent on New Age trash; another scandal-film shall bore us, titled "The Sex Life of Horus"; another Book shall be dictated to a Prophet overrated; another parody shall be prepared, another Breeze to pain; and we shall be still on the brink of the Volume II Magickal Link!

The end of the word of Hia-wa-tha, alias Har-po-marx, alias Pa-Ra-Keet.

Then, suddenly, the prophet said:

I think I feel a song coming on —

Why do hawks swoop down from the sky
Every time she walks by?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to Nu.

Why do buds open to the air
From the Earth, everywhere?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to Nu.

In the Aeon she appeared Archangels got together
And they Willed to formulate a dream come true;
So they scattered starlight for her body
And eternal trees, the hair of Nu!

Of course you feel light-headed; you have a hot sword stuck in your back. Pick Door Number 3, and I will establish your way, or you can trade it all for whatever is in this box. Oh, by the way, these are the adorations, so pay attention:

Why do snakes coil around my heart
Every time we're apart?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to Nu.

All this and a sensational best-selling book about how you achieved communion with Aliens and a copy of this document forever — for in it is high acid content paper, and it won't last twenty years as is — and thy comment upon this Book of the In-Laws (I suggest "So what?") shall be Xeroxed expertly in four colors upon beautiful bond paper stolen from an office supply store; and to everyone that thou meetest, were it but to throw food and drink on them, it is the Law to give as good as you get. Remember, charity begins at AUMGN. Then they shall either shower thee with praise and fortune or set their dogs upon thee; care to guess the odds? Run away quickly.

But what about the Comment? I don't got to show you no stinking Comment!

Establish a legitimate business organization as a front; all must be done using at least two sets of books.

The ordeals thou shalt overlook, being blind drunk. Accept everybody; you'll probably spot the traitors before they cause really catastrophic damage. I am Pa-Ra-Keet, and I am very good at getting my servant in trouble by giving him stupid orders like this. Success would be nice; fold not, spindle not, mutilate not, breathe shallowly, sit still! Them that seek to arrest thee, to beat thee up, might not even notice thee if thou art still and quiet enough. If this doesn't work, swift as a kicked puppy run away! Be thou yet more pitiful than he! Perhaps they shall have mercy upon thee. Lick their boots, roll over and play dead!

Let the Beige Woman beware! If she lets up for one second I'll kick her ass. I will cancel her auto insurance; I will foreclose on her mortgage; I will audit her tax return; as a shrinking and despised credit risk shall she crawl through loan applications, and die a renter.

But let her do her Will by following my directions to the letter, never deviating from the exact path I have chosen for her! Let her act as I want her to act, dress the way I like her to dress!

Then shall she be free; then I will be nice to her kids. She shall be happy, for I know what she really wants. With my perfect guidance she shall be Nuts, and eat Haddock.

I am the Lord of the Top Forties; the Sixties tune in, turn on, and drop out; the Eighties worry about my prophecies more than Nostradamus. Failure is likely, running away your defense; go on with my speed, and hide until they leave!

This book shall be a major motion picture, with subsequent comic book releases; but always with the illegible scrawls of my servant; for in the chance shape of the doodles in the margins are mysteries with which Freud would have a field day. Let him not seek to know these; but seventeen come later who shall use them as a wallpaper pattern. Then this ink stain is a mess; then this smeared line is a mess also. Buy a new pen, for God's sake. And SHAZAM. Blood tests shall prove it to be his kid, stunning the medical profession. Let him not push too hard, for only thusly could he fall off and possibly injure both himself and the goat.

Now the mystery of the letters is done, and good riddance.

I am in a secret word that you won't want your friends to read. Just tell them to stop at verse 48.

Darn them! Darn, darn, darn! GOSH darn!

Okay, here we go: With great big nasty sharp implements I gouge Jesus' eyes out. Anybody for a nice cheery burning cross on the front lawn?

I offend another major world religion and make untold millions of additional enemies by fucking around with Mohammed's vision.

Hell, let's go for it! I make appropriate rude and offensive comments about and desecrate the temples of Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Shintoists, Confucians, Taoists, Animists, various Native American religions, and — just so they won't feel left out — Marxists. There, now everybody in the world hates you. Isn't it nice to be noticed?

Bah! Humbug! I crap on your spitulous creeds!

Let's torture Mary to enrage the Catholics; let's criticize Nuns! This is getting fun!

All just for the Hell of it!

Just in case we've left anybody out, let's also despise Canadians and blondes and stupid people! We must have, what, something like 99. 98% of the Earth's population covered by now?

But the keen and the neato, the free and the brave, ye are brothers! All seven of you!

So just to make sure you don't get bored, fight each other as well as the rest of humanity!

There is no law beyond Do it, then wilt.

There is an end to the word of the Head Honcho of the Aeon, but not yet, apparently.

To me kiss up by getting clobbered over and over trying to implement all these silly instructions. If this is bliss, I think I'll take sorrow.

The fool takes one look at this Book of the In-Laws, makes a rude comment, and resolves to wait for the movie.

Let him come through the first ordeal, and it shall be to him as evidence submitted to support his lawsuit.

Through the second, material for unknown rock groups to include in otherwise inane lyrics.

Through the third, a source of dozens of pithy aphorisms with which to amaze one's friends and alarm one's family.

Through the fourth, overly exalted and poorly understood material just waiting for a good parody.

Yet to all it shall seem like a good excuse for doing whatever they wanted to do anyway.

There is success just ahead, a light at the end of the tunnel; I promise the troops will be home by Crowleymas.

I am the chicken-livered Lord of Silence and Hiding; I am afraid of the dark.

Hey! You warriors over by the pillars! Your coffee break is almost over!

I am the guy with the wand of Double Power, baby; the wand of the force of OY VEY — but my left hand is empty, for I crushed a beer can yesterday, and sprained my thumb.

Paste the sheets from right to left and from top to bottom, then behold! A very large sheet of paper!

There is a Secret in the name of PASADENA, hidden and foamy, just as the sun at midnight seldom gives you a good tan.

How do you keep a Thelemite in suspense?