Ali and Mamoud sat waiting nervously on the couch together scanning the dingy apartment’s bare walls and inspecting the small piles of empty take-away containers that belied the transient nature of the flat’s tenants. After a few minutes of muffled arguments in a staccato Asian dialect Kevin and Xi reappeared and placed five large zip lock bags of white powder onto the coffee table in front of the two Lebanese. “This shit is the best shit anywhere.” announced Xi with a broad businessman’s smile, as Ali slipped one of the bags open and poked his pinky fingertip into the contents to extract a taste. Making a face as he pulled the finger out of his mouth he said “That tastes terrible man, it must be good shit.” grinning widely and glancing towards Mamoud to indicate that he was pleased with the merchandise. Ali pulled the briefcase onto the coffee table next to the bags and opened it to reveal several bundles of neatly bound bank notes which he started taking out of the case and stacking on the table in front of Kevin. “I’ll take all five kilos at the price we said on the phone, okay Kev.” said Ali flatly, suddenly all business. “Cool!” replied both Asians almost simultaneously as Ali slid over the cash and started placing the bags of white powder where the cash had been in the case. Meanwhile Kevin had undone one of the bundles and was busily counting twenties and fifties, keeping track as he went by whispering a running total to himself. Ali smiled at him and said “Don’t worry Kev, it’s all there.” To which Kevin replied that the weight of the powder was certainly correct too, but he was “gonna check anyway.” Xi and Mamoud had settled together on the end of the couch and were staring at the television screen with identical vacant looks on their faces, mindlessly absorbing the over-indulgent violence on the screen. Just as Kevin had re-wrapped the first bundle of bills and was reaching for another bundle of notes a loud crash from the front door of the apartment caused all four heads to snap around in unison. Before any of them could move two dark figures burst into the small flat, towering over them, and brandishing viciously sawn off shotguns. The intruders were dressed identically in long black-blue woolen overcoats worn over khaki colored boiler-suits. Both were disguised by novelty rubber masks, one of John Howard and the other of Saddam Hussein. ‘John’ waved his gun menacingly over the four young men while ‘Saddam’ quietly pushed the front door closed after a quick glance up and down the hallway outside. “You cunts don’t move!” barked John Howard as Saddam came in and gathered up the bundles of money and put them into the case with the drugs. Behind them the front door of the flat had blown open as the security door downstairs had been opened and Ali, seeing a route for escape, jumped up in a blind panic and headed for the door. The flash of John Howard’s sawn-off shot gun briefly lit the darkened room as he blasted Ali in the back, knocking him off his feet into the now blood-spattered wall next to the door. Kevin had been crouching beside the table and as Ali made his dash he had done a similar bolt and in a remarkable display of agility from such an apparently sedentary fellow, he threw himself headlong through a sliding glass door at the end of the room. Seeing Kevin’s lunge for freedom Saddam wheeled around and fired both barrels at once blowing the glass out of the doors. Kevin landed among the shards of glass on the balcony outside with a crash of plastic furniture and rolling onto his feet, jumped up and over the edge, and disappeared into the long shadows of the warm evening twilight. John turned around to the table once more and snapped the case shut after assuring himself that its contents were intact, while Saddam skillfully cracked open his sawn-off and dropped the still smoking shells onto the floor before replacing them quickly with two fresh ones and swinging the barrel shut with a metallic click. John and Saddam looked at each other through the skewed eyeholes of their rubber masks before returning their gaze to the two young men who sat cowering on the couch. “C’mon J.J. let’s just grab this shit and fuck off.” said Saddam, but John shook his head and said “Naw, we’ve gotta do these two cunts as well mate.” Saddam shrugged in reply and the pair took aim and blasted the two men on the couch. John swung the case towards the door and said “C’mon mate!” before sliding the shortened barrel under his long dark coat and quietly slipping through the smashed front door, peering around the corners before darting out of the apartment block and melting into the deepening night beyond.
Pyramidos- Self Initiation in the Aeon of Horus
Pyramidos is the latest book by DG Mattichak Jr. It is a detailed examination of one of the most important rituals in Aleister Crowley's unique system of ceremonial magick.
Pyramidos provides a comprehensive set of instructions for performing Ritual 671 and includes the complete text of many of the ceremonies that inspired it.
Pyramidos includes 15 illustrations and an extensive bibliography of references.
Leather Bound Limited Edition Pyramidos