The Saltair by Jymie Darling

At the ghostly after event at the Great Saltair. It was an incredible night. You can feel It in the air. Temperatures were dropping.

I stepped out of the car. Smell of salt in the air. The Saltair in front of me, a copper mine to left in the distance, the original spot of the Saltair to the right of me (approximately the same distance of the mine) and the grwat salt lake in front of all those.

I asked one of the crew to walk with me. The building did not catch my interest at all. There were no great feelings from it. The lake bed, it called out to me.

We walked up towards the edge of lake bed (now receded quite a ways in). A clear and distinct whistle from right behind us made my companion stand at attention. Immediately turning around, there was no one sight. This was already promising to be a great night.

We left to go into the building to check in and meet up with the rest of the group. I amused my host with tales of why one should never whistle, particularly at night. She was shook up. Poor Max.

We settled into the host area, and devoured some dinner.

I hosted a group of investigators but my mind was solidly outside. I just could not shake it.

I like to have all the facts and history of a place in my hands for an investigation. Not what others have found, nay, that provides a preconceived notions about what to expect. I want just the cold history. For that, I rely on Mary. Our Los Angeles group, S.C.A.R.E.D. (Southern Californian Allied Reseachers for Evidence of the Disembodied) run like a well oiled machine. I like to think of us much like the cast of Criminal Minds. Mary is our Baby Girl. She can find you all the info in a deep scrub.

I shoot Mary a text. Earlier in the day, she gave me what I needed to know about the building...including it was not even on the original site. I tell her that I am drawn to lake bed.

Within minutes, baby girl is sending Google shots, info, and more.

There is a perfect triangle. An island that continues to catch my eye out in the lake bed. I know it is there as I can make out an outline. The copper mine. Copper being an excellent conduit and mines are a source of tragedy. Finishing with the original Saltair site. I ask her about this. She tells me that it is odd as there are believed portals by a Shaman there. More than that, there is a Bermuda Triangle style energy there. The Salt Lake Triangle. Equipment malfunction. Small aircraft problems. Crashes. Boats sinking. All the makings of a perfect storm.

I ask her, what does that island have to do with it. There are a few out there but only one that matters to me. She says she will scrub and get back to me.

An interesting fact of no great importance to that night....the Donner Party crossed through here just before making the fatal turn into the high Sierras. A rock that was used as a guide still stands.

One more fact....it is a known body dump sight for years.

I take a small group out with me. I spin a tale of history.

Look out unto the lake bed. See how it looks like water? Yet, as we walk, there is no water. The lake has pulled back.

Visualize yourself coming across the grwat unknown. Tired. Cold. Thirsty. Hungry. You see this in the distance and you move towards it. More and more. Desperation takes hold of your mind and body. You drive your horses faster. You jump out and run to the water. There is none. It is an illusion. You keep going to the next one. The next one. You find yourself sinking in the sludge. If you do fond the waters edge....it is so dense with salt, it would be fatal to drink it. Some take that chance. Welcome to the highway of tragedy. Where you stand.

One of guests looks panic stricken. He begins to run into the lake bed screaming "I know it is right here. The water is right here. Everyone, we can survive."

I grimace and go after him. I catch up to him. I ask him "honey, what are you doing?" He replies "We need water." I remind him that we have cases of water in the building. He looks out to the black night of the Lake Bed....panicked. I grab his shoulders and ask him "and what if you find it? You cannot drink it, son. You will die. It is 3x the salt density of the ocean. And should you get close, you will sink in the mud. Should you get through that, you will drown in the density of the water. It is not like the Dead Sea."

He snaps out of it and agrees to go back towards the building and the group. He looks towards the old Saltair point. We here a kid scream. His friend sprints off in that direction and he follows as do I. I stop them. I tell them, there is no human in trouble. A child drowned at the original Saltair. You are hearing the imprint.

My phone goes off as I am leading the group back to the building. Keeping the two teens in my sight as they are being drawn to the lake middle.

I return into the building. I meet up with Susan Slaughter, the other guest host.

Susan and I return to the lake area....in part 2 of this blog, I will tell you of our tale!

Jymie Darling's Demonology Treatise was Reviewed

My treatise was reviewed by a critic that is fair and harsh at the same time. I must be completely honest, I was worried when I saw that I was reviewed. Like I said he is a fair but very critical reviewer that has done hundreds of reviews. I was happy with the review though. Made my evening and this said, there is a larger book of Demonology coming out from me. Here is the link to the full review. 4 out of 5 stars. http://granovitch.blogspot.com/2016/11/introducing-demons.html?m=1 Here are some of the highlights: Local magician , Jymie Darling, has generated a small but very informational treatise on various types of demons that spans across several cultures and philosophies. Stating off with the ancient Sumerians she describes the demons that plagued our first society and then goes through the Judeo Christian , indian ,native american and finally Gnostic traditions. The information provided in this book is top notch. The book is not a how to but rather an excellent overview. I have no complaints about her knowledge or writing style, rather there are editing issues that I noticed occurred with the kindle edition. The biggest problem is that the photos and illustrations cover over the text in many places. This blots out lots of information. A major drag. Having known the author and conversed with her let me tell you she is supernaturally intelligent. I wish she would write a much longer book. In fact I wish this book was longer. In Sumerian mythos which carries into Assyrian and Babylonian demons. The first class of demons are the demons who are god like. In a sense they are gods and goddesses of evil. The second class of demons are those wandering spirits of the undead , who may be angry or vengeful. The last kind of demon are those that are half human half demon. There were also winged demons who could bring evil to people or guard against evil. The author warns that when working with demons it is important to use incantation that are specific to their home religion. In other words you cannot threaten a demon like Labartu, Sumerian demon with the name adonai or Jesus as he would not know who they are. Important of note is that demons and gods tend to evolve,especially as they go through different religion's. They will get different names and characteristic. Still! Context is important.

Jymie Darling...an update and a preview

http://wp.me/p7o83G-iP

Ouija Board....the Talking Board of Evil?

Ouija Boards, pretty and a wonderful tool or is it? Ouija Boards were invented in the long line of talking tables and Victorian fascination with the dead and the Spiritual Revival. There is no doubt that there is the 'other side'. There is no doubt that there is a wonderful part of the unknown that we have yet to completely understand. Tools keep evolving. Looks and presentation become a must. Hollywood jumps on board and we have a tool of evil. Fears are placed into our minds. I am going to be incredibly unpopular with this particular blog, but this is 20+ years of being in the Occult with 90% of it spent working in/owning an Occult Store. First and foremost, let me explain something about myself. I believe in the unknown. I do. I do not think that every bump in the night is a ghost or every ghost is a demon. In fact, I am a skeptic first. I try to resolve everything prior to having faith. I do not know why. It is my way. If you say you are psychic, I have zero trust in that until I see it and can preclude any other explanation for the event I saw. When you say you are 99% correct, I have to question your technique. IE...no reader should ask you a question prior to reading. That is a dead giveaway. They should never try to manipulate you out of information during the reading. That is also a dead giveaway. A true psychic and tarot reader can simply throw the cards and come up with details that they have no way of knowing. The rests are frauds or reading your face. Those that think that they expose frauds are usually hiding what they do not want you to ask of them. That is why I do not out anyone by name...just by description that includes the entire sect of the community. We have such a telephone book listing of 'psychics' and 'spell casters' that we have become a joke at this point. Ouija Boards are the same. I have heard all the myths, all the scary stories (even from my mom) but I wanted to look deeper into this. The Ouija. Oui-Ja (yes/yes). There are differing opinions on the board's powers and where they come from. Some say it is you. Ideosyncratic Response from the brain causing the answers to come from you. To answer the self. Or perhaps to make you the portal to which the board works. Some say it is actually the spirit world using the board as the portal. Perhaps the planchette is the portal. Let's break it down shall we? You focus all of your energy/energies into your finger tips. We know that the fingers are like a wand. After all, a wand as a magickal tool is nothing more than the extension of your fingers and an object in which to focus upon and direct. Your finger tips are placed on the planchette, not the board. So in essence, it is the planchette that becomes the portal, not the board. The board is a tool...a map for the planchette to travel to give you the answers you seek. So let's right here stop and realize, the board itself has NOTHING to do with this. It is the Planchette. Therefore, it is the tool to regard with respect and caution. Whew, glad to clear this up. planchettes Next the spirits that come through. Yes, all kinds can come through. I use to tell people do not give the board any power or fear. YOU are in charge of the portal. Remember? It is through your fingertips that the portal has the energy, thus the power, to open. It requires it to remain open. Can something escape? Well, this is sticky and a bit of a blurred area. I think that if you are fearful of that, you have allowed that to be an option. What do I mean? Well, I have never had anything escape any portal doing any experimental or actual ritual work. NONE. Even as a baby occultist. Why would I be so lucky? How can I be an exception? Easy. I am not. I was trained from the very get go to never practice if scared. I had to adhere to the holy trinity of law: No Fear, No Doubt, No Guilt. So if I thought for a moment that I was going to be scared of something happening, I either did not proceed with doing it or I took extra precautions to put my monkey mind at rest. Thus, I did not create the option for something to escape. I was in control and my rules were to be followed. You see, I HAVE the energy to create such a connection...meaning IT needed me to come through. That makes me the greater energy. As such, my house, my rules. Simple. I have never been questioned nor challenged in any situation, including exorcisms. No Fear. I have No Doubt in myself. And I do not do anything I would feel Guilt for. I have seen people release things into their houses. The first question is: Did you perform some evocation? Ritual? Ouija? Seance? Call forth ANYTHING? Followed immediately by: Were you scared? Did you have doubts in yourself? Did you allow yourself to be frightened? Lastly: Did you research what you doing first? Like more than Google? More than A book? Usually....those questions above are 95% of what went wrong. Next, the Ouija. It is cute. It is. I find it quaint and I find it amusing. I do not find it to be an authority nor absolute. I use to tell people: Using a Ouija Board to ask advice is like calling 7-11's payphone and asking whoever answered the phone all your spiritual questions and advice. You might get a Sage, you might get a Fool. Either way, you do not know which one you got. So, I give the advice that I gave to many over the last 20+ years.... Play with the Ouija but understand, it might not be truthful. If you are scared, go to a movie instead of playing with the Ouija. If you are doubtful of your ability to maintain control with just words but not scared, play the board inside a magickal circle that was cast with protection or a salt circle. If you are worried about how to close the board. Do not be. The board is not the portal. Focus on the planchette. Remove your fingers and dip in a bowl of salt water to disconnect yourself, thus taking the energy from the portal. Then, for good measure, either store the planchette in salt or simply cleanse it with the salt water you have. A story I liked to repeat at the end of the advice: A couple once were playing the Ouija. They had contacted a small boy who passed on as a child. They talked to him over many nights. Always being told that the spirit felt safe and comfortable with them. That the boy had a bond now with them. An affection. They enjoyed the boy and enjoyed their talks. All the talks of his childhood, his time frame, his interests. They shared theirs. One night, the woman asked the boy: "When did you die?" The planchette went to 1-8-9-2. The woman apologized if this was sensitive information. She had held off asking anything that might bring pain to the boy. The planchette went to No. She then asked when were you born, hoping to discover an exact age and zodiac. The planchette went to 1-9-0-5. Confused, the woman asked...:"You were born after you died?" The planchette went wild all over the board in panic and went silent. The boy never did return.

Transmutation, the ideal magickal working

Transmutation, the ideal magickal working Jymie Darling, Alchemist Alchemy, this is a word that is overused and over abused in today's world. Why? Because no one really knows what it means. Alchemy is more than pretty smells. Alchemy is more than understanding the philosophy of the greater unfolding of the self as presented by Jung and the use of symbolism with any Tree of Life. Alchemy is transformation in the sense that it is transmuted into something more, something different. It is the action of changing or the state of being changed into another form. Into something completely and entirely different. Elixirs When we apply it to the blending of oils, we are talking about creating a perfect elixir where the singular components stop existing in the scent and they become one to create a different form of magickal elixir. For instance, if not blended correctly, one can pick out each and every oil used in that blend. However, if planetary perfection is heeded to while mixing, one can catch tones but not the blend. When one can take herbs, resins and oils and create an elixir that transports a person's energy to the intended blending, that is transmutation. It took me over 10 years to learn the perfection of this art, luckily, I owned the Nation's Oldest Occult store, Panpipes Magickal Marketplace and could work day in and day out all week, every week, for 10 years. I now continue to do so at Babylon Gardens Apothecary. Unfolding the Self When we apply it to the self, we are talking about the unfolding of the self. Getting rid of the baggage that we carry that is not ours. That little voice that says "you are not good enough", "you must compare yourself to others to feel better", "you will never succeed", "i am only who i am to how others see me". Some of these might just be yours, some of these are what others handed to you for you to carry as your own. These people could be your parents (or whatever relative took you on), your peers, society, bullies, television, social media, etc. Whichever they might be, they are not yours to carry. You have been carrying them for so long, you might not even realize, this is not your baggage. You need to open up each suitcase and examine if it belongs to you. If it does not, dump it. If it does, we need to reorganize, cull down and learn to create something awesome from the suitcase instead of something vile and ugly that we project on a daily basis. However, if the suitcase is a mental illness, please seek medical attention. This type of unfolding may be too intense for the unbalanced, especially paranoia. This is not a cure for mental illnesses. The Tree of Life is the easiest format to chart your unfolding out. Now, Qabala is the most easiest explained, however, each and every philosophy can be placed upon the Tree of Life and the Qabalistic names substituted for your philosophy. I wrote a treatise on how to. This little gem is a treatise that explains the Qabala foundations. The treatise includes several tree philosophies into the the working of the tree in the language of the Qabala. The treatise also creates a simple to follow way to work the paths for the rebuilding of the self while embracing your shadows so that they become constructive rather than destructive. Gyms will only get you so far in this life, what is the soul of the person matters most in the bigger scheme of universe. After all, we are simply just vehicles holding the energy and wisdom of the true self. Each path is broken down into a simple foundation of the workings and understandings of each lesson one must learn while unfolding the self as well as creating the energy vortex for creation. When one finds this creation, one never needs to worry about the mundane bickering of those who are mired in muck. Remember, those that choose to focus on you are taking away from focusing on themselves and thus, remain mired in the manure of their own making. This is a great introduction to the Great Work of the Self or you can find a hard copy soon on my website. Food Alchemy When you start to create the self and you create the elixir that you wear for the energy, you must never forget to also create from inside as well. When we eat, we provide the body energy. This energy is also what we push forward in our life. Why not start controlling it? Planets are just as important in food and in preparation of food and in the meal. Let me offer an example: My family use to gather for holidays (most are now deceased). My mom (RIP) and my grandmother (RIP) never got along. NEVER. My aunt and my mom never got along. My cousin and I never get along. So I started an experiment without their knowledge. I volunteered to make the dinners. I used meals that were made with Moon (peace and calming) and Venus (love and happiness). They got along. They even remarked about their surprise on how they got along. I stopped making the dinners. The fights erupted almost immediately. I looked at what was being made, Mars (passion and war) and Mercury (communications). Oh boy. Explained everything. Now, when I do something for guests, or for my own need of energy, I watch the alchemy I place into my food. After all, when you eat, you transmute the food into the energy that you are going to use. I work closely with Alchemy Confections for catering when I need to and for the planetary cupcakes that I use for a daily work need. A Sun (success, money) mini cupcake with a Jupiter (prosperity, health) combined with a beautiful Mercury (communications) drink...and here I am writing semi understandable (wink) a blog that will help you become the Kethor, Xeper, Brilliance, Philosopher's Stone....YOU. Good night and be a better you, by doing so, you are helping the universe not creating the problem.

Oh...the Sights My Eyes Have Seen....

19 years in the nations oldest store...not JUST the oldest but located in Hollywood CA. Oh the sites I have seen...oh the stories I have to tell. Heart of Hollywood. 7 days a week at one point...no less than 5 at other times. Some of the best times, some of the most trying times but I enjoyed owning Panpipes Magickal Marketplace. Let me tell you one...gather round and listen close....this story takes place in the summer at Panpipes in Hollywood, CA. It was a Saturday afternoon, how do i know this? Because my interns were in. I will use nicknames... lex Luther and beeker had opened the Shoppe that day. They were my Saturday interns. I had run errands before coming in so it was around 1 pm. I walk in and saw a customer leaning over the tarot case by the formulary. I did not take great notice. I saw Lex's face as I smiled at her. Her eyeswere went big and she smirked. Looked straight at the girl at the counter. I winked and she gave the..."nooooo....take a better look" look. I took a better look at the girl. Dark curly hair. 70's headband. 70's tank top. Short shorts. Long socks. Sneakers. Exactly what you think when you think roller girl circa 1970. I have a "am I missing something?"expression. Lex tilts head and wide eyed looks at me again. I look closer again....oh lord... Between the legs the girl's penis has fallen out of the shorts. I about died trying to hold a straight face. She continues to bend over the counter and the penis swings to and fro. I walk fully into the store. Come around the counter to save my interns. I ask "how may I help you?". She replies "I lost my demon." Holding it together I say/ask "good?!?" She looks me in the face. Her eyebrows are done by a marker, sharpie I presume, and way up on her forehead so she looks startled. She stands up. Tucks her junk and continues while I die of hysterics inside "I just got out of jail and when I was there, I got scared and prayed to Jesus. My demon left." I said/asked "sorry?!?!" She gets annoyed and turns with hands on hips, eyebrows in full sharpie startled mode and screams at me "I miss my Fucking demon. I miss the smell of my burning flesh." I apologized and asked how could help. She replied "you would not know. The demon is Gaelic." Now, I am not only an alchemist and Occultist, I am a well studied demonologist...so interest peaked as I know not of trueto Gaelic demons who smell lightning flesh...I invite her to try me. She look at me and says "you would not know. It speaks Gaelic and I know Gaelic" So did one of my great grandmothers...I do not...but I would recognize...so I say "do you now?" She says "yes. I will prove it." She walks over to my cat and says (now roll your T's here to fully understand) " Kittttttty Catttttt" She looks at me and says "that is Gaelic for kitty cat" I stand there nodding trying to hold myself together...my interns have both dived into my office to control their laughter. I apologize for doubting her, tell her I cannot help as I am just not that knowledgeable and wish her luck with the biodegradable will soon smell her flesh burning again. Proud to have stumped me, she left.

The Haunting of Utica Ave...True Story by Jymie Darling

The Haunting of Utica Ave by Jymie Darling

Everyone has that one thing that begins a life obsession with something obscure. When asked “why do you investigate hauntings?” I have never really thought of why. When asked “what made you become a demonologist?” I have never really thought of why. When asked “what is your obsession with demons that you would dedicate your life to investigating, working and understanding such entities?” I have never really thought of why. Why do I? Every obsession has a story line, a beginning. Especially demons. This is mine…. When I was young, must have been around 12 years old (give or take a year…remember…I have a damn brain injury from the military and I cannot remember exact dates…usually off by a year), I went to a summer camp with the local park in Whittier, CA called Mayberry. I grew up around the corner from there. When I returned, my mom had moved in a boyfriend that I had never met. Yaaay! Not yaay at that time…I was shit to him but he is my dad now for more than 35 years and I love him deeply. He had not moved in completely. So one evening it was dusk and summer, my mom told me to go help him grab some more of his stuff from his old house. His house was on Utica and not far from us…maybe 7 minutes. I rolled my eyes and said “if I hafta”. I had to.

We pull up to the house.

This is actually been rebuilt. They built a new house but left the foundation. The house is whatever. I look across the street and I recognize a school friend from St Gregory the Great (my catholic grade school), Janine Carver. I run over and say HEY. Her mom comes out and says hello. Asks what I was doing there. I said…ah..new boyfriend in the house and helping him grab stuff. There is an old man on the corner out watering his yard. Everyone calls him Penguin. He waddles. He has the nicest yard on the block. Just astounding green. Loretta laughs and says that he loves that lawn more than God. Pop yells at me to come help. Loretta stops me and says that her cat is having kittens, do I want one? I find this my moment to play the new guy. I scream over….when her cat is done, can I have one of the kittens? PLEASE??? He says of course! I say bye and run over to the house. I enter the house. No one is there. It smells bad. Really bad. Each few steps is a new and more horrible smell. I ask “Something die?” He shakes his head and keeps walking back to his room. A few more steps and the house goes cold in that spot. A few more steps and it is hot again. Each step a smell of death and rotten something…eggs? Food? Dead rats? My mind goes..awesome and he is moving in with us. Each few steps is a cold spot that makes me shiver. I cannot understand this. Even as a kid, I had a very logical mind…a very scientific mind and a math based understanding of things. That did not make me very popular at all but being a volleyball team 1st string player helped. None of this makes any sense to me. I look for the venting system. None. I shrug and move on to his room. He is at his closet grabbing things. Down the hall is another room with a padlock on it. I notice his had a padlock too. Roommate? He said we were there alone. That he lived alone. He turns and asks me if I want to see a neat trick. I shrug. Sure. He takes his watch which he states is his dad’s watch and places it on the top shelf. Near the edge at the front. He closes the door. Smiles at me and says “Get the watch.” I sigh and walk over, I reach up..the watch is gone. He lifts me up. The watch is at the very back of the shelf. I ask him how he does that and he smiles. Sets me down and closes the door. Opens it immediately. The watch is back at the front but to the left. He lifts me back up. I check for strings. It is wood. I move the watch by my hand…sliding it. It makes a sound on the wood. I push on the shelf. It does not move. He sets me down and chuckles. In the corner a bottle catches my eyes. It is a sparkletts water bottle. The big 5 gallon ones. At this time, they are glass. Now why does it catch me eye? The nuns had just showed me a physics trick of pressure breakage. Theirs was with an egg and a cup. One cup with an egg on it and one without. Each hit on the side with a small hammer. One broke outwards. One broke inwards. Pressure explosion. His bottle was also broken out on the side. Only his broke outwards and there was not a seal on top for pressure. I asked him “What happened?” He says “Oh. No idea. Everyday it breaks a little more. Why?” I say “There is no seal tho.” He shrugs and continues packing. The glass is perfectly lined on the outside of the bottle. Exactly 1 inch in width and exactly 1 inch from the bottle. Lined perfect. I place my hand inside the bottle and wipe the bottom…nothing but dust. Makes zero sense to what I had just learned that day. I turn to argue the impossibility of the physics when a machete leaning against the wall catches my eye and my attention. Now the following happens and I have a ZERO recall of it but overheard him later telling this to my mom: “She went over to the machete. Picked it up. Asked me if it was sharp. I told her it really was not all that sharp. Pretty dull actually. Toby, her face changed and she said in a voice that was not hers…I did not ask you if you could slice your wrists with it, I asked you if I swung it hard enough would it cut your head off. Toby, I told her that I guess so and she shrieked at me to get it the FUCK OUT OF THIS HOUSE.” I remember seeing the machete. I remember that suddenly I was putting it back against the wall and he was diving to snatch it up. I could not understand his problem. He looked pale. He said he had packed enough and it was time to leave. We left the room and he padlocked it. In the hallway, I walked over to the other room. Again…no memory. Only what I overheard him telling my mom later: “She walked over to the other room. Put her hands on it. Looked at me and screamed WHY ARE YOU HERE? RUN! OH I AM DEAD! RUN!” I remember walking to the hallway and turning on a light. There was a black velvet oil painting of some 70’s rocker playing a guitar. Eric Clapton, I believe. May not have been. All I know is that something about that picture scared the living hell out of me. I turned to him and begged to leave now. He said…yes. We started to move through the living room. I became frozen in my spot. I looked back at the painting. He left the house. The door slammed shut. I screamed. He had hanging candles…I know…so 1970. They began to swing wildly. The curtains were violently swinging. I am screaming but frozen in spot. The house smells like sweet but death. It is cold. So cold. I can hear him screaming outside “NO! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR! NO!!! LEAVE HER ALONE!! GODDAMMIT!! LEAVE HER ALONE!!” Suddenly, everything stops swinging. The door opens. I run towards him. I grab the back of his levi’s and tear the pocket off pulling him with me. Takes hours to calm me down. HOURS. My family never again speaks of this night….but it does not end there…. So a little time goes by. The cat gives birth. I pick mine. I name Mai Tai. I overhear my mom talking to Janine's mom. She is noticing a change in Janine. And the people that moved into the house are weird. She says that they claimed to be Catholics but when Janine went over with a cross to welcome them to the neighborhood, they screamed: "Get that cross out of here! Are you crazy? Do you know what they will do with a cross in here?" I looked across the street. Their blinds were crooked and closed. It was weird because my dad's blinds were always crooked in there too. He said that he could never make them close straight. I have to wait for the kitten to be weaned. My mom and I leave. The neighborhood seems odd. People seem to be odd and staring at us...almost creepy like. I think nothing of it and focus on when I can get my kitten and how cute my kitten is. I go to school and I see Janine but she is becoming more and more distant and cold towards me. But it is the start of volleyball season and I am preoccupied with practice and games and such. Then one day, I am at practice and Coach Merlin comes up and tells me that Principal Mayor wants me up at her office. I leave the court and go see Mrs. Mayor. She tells me that I am suspended from the team pending an investigation into my actions towards Janine. I ask what did I do? She looks at me and says: "You know full well what you did to her and when we prove it, you are expelled. I am so disappointed in one of my athletes and honor roll students." I sit in the office as they called my mom. Janine is in the other room. I yell out at her "What do you think I did to you?" Her mom walks in, hugs me and steps into the principal's office. They are in there for a bit. My mom shows up and glares at me. She slaps my head as she goes into the office while giving me the "I am going to kill your ass when I get out of here" look. The coach comes in and asks me what is up. I am in tears and shrugging. She goes into the office. Janine's mom exits and hugs me again. She grabs Janine and they leave. My coach comes out, hugs me and says she will see me down the hill for the last part of practice. My mom comes to the door and tells me to come in. My mom hugs me and apologizes. The principal apologizes. My mom tells me to run along to practice. After practice, my mom is waiting for me in the car. I get in. She explains that Janine had told everyone that she got pregnant by some boy and then ran to the principal and blamed me for starting the rumor. I asked why me? Why would she do that? Are we not friends anymore? My mom explains that her mom and dad are getting divorced. He had an affair with a neighbor and Janine is lashing out but I need to stay clear of her to avoid trouble. A few weeks go by and Loretta calls my mom in hysterics. She says that we have to come get my kitten right this second as she is fleeing for her life. My mom and I jump in the car and rush over. I grab my kitten. Penguin is out there in his yard. His yard is all dirt and he is pouring gasoline all over the ground. The people from across the street had fled in the night, leaving the house opened and half their stuff behind. Janine's dad is ranting in the street that he does not know why he cheated and he is sorry. My mom asks Loretta where will she go? Loretta answers...I do not know. I will call you when I am there and safe tho. I look at Janine, she glaring at me. My mom and I go to leave, the neighbors have begun to gather around the house on the yard. They are just glaring at Loretta. My mom tosses me and the kitten into the car. As we pull away, I hear some woman say to Loretta "You are the last one standing. You are the only one left. You can save....." and then we were too far to hear the rest. I asked my mom what just happened. My mom said "you need to forget it and never go back to that street again...YOU UNDERSTAND ME?" I nodded and held onto my kitten. Later, I learned that the entire neighborhood suddenly began having affairs with each other. Penguin went insane and set his dirt lawn on fire. Janine and her mom were in East LA and then they disappeared. That was not the last time I went to the neighborhood and each return becomes more bizarre but not quite as frightening. You will notice...penguin's place still is a dirt lawn.

Pagan Day Festival

LOS ANGELES’ LARGEST PAGAN DAY FESTIVAL OF ANCIENT RELIGIONS Celebrating Ancient Religions with World Peace Violin created by UN Rev Peter McCollum and played by famous Bob Dylan violinist Scarlet Rivera This event is a tolerance festival that focuses on the Ancient Religions. With Shopping at over 50 vendors, Rituals, Workshops, Film Screenings, Authors, Lectures, Art Show, Ancient Altar Presentations and an attendance expected to be in the thousands. It is an open to the public event that is free to attend the main festival activities with nighttime ticketed events. General Public is welcomed and Press is warmly received. This year, we have UN member, Rev Patrick McCollum with the UN recognized Peace Symbol, his World Peace Violin played by Bob Dylan’s violinist and renown activist, Scarlet Rivera with both workshops and rituals. This year’s focus is on world peace and turning the hatred and self righteous anger into inner peace to ripple forth into the world. We are also honored with the presence of television personalities and world famous Mediums and Spirit Artists, Michael and Marti Parry. The Violin will travel from the festival to NYC to open on the main stage for the Post 9/11 ceremony and then to Auschwitz to play for healing at their opening.

The festival is September 10 -11, 2016 10am – 5pm Burbank Ca Burbank Marriott Hotel, 2500 N. Hollywood Way, Burbank CA Free to the main festival $15 for Masquerade Ball $35 for Michael and Marti Parry Gallery The Pagan Day Festival was the first festival in Los Angeles to include all religions, both Pagans and Mainstream and the first festival to invite the general public to come and educate themselves in a fun and wonderful setting. Since 1999, the festival has been received incredibly by news cameras, reporters, writers and AP photographers and independent writers in hundreds of press articles. We were the first festival to be acknowledged by the city and received proclamations from Los Angeles and West Hollywood acknowledging the ancient religions and our festival. This year, our focus shifted to work with Rev Patrick McCollum from the UN, the first openly Pagan UN member, to promote healing and peace in a world that has been filled with too much hatred from the elections to the recent police activity. About Pagan Day Fest. Pagan Day Festival is the largest tolerance festival in Los Angeles, CA. We started in 1999 and had to take a slight hiatus due to health problems of our coordinator, Rev. Jymie Darling, world renown occultist with over 200 articles written on her and television personality as well as movies. Now we are back and bigger than ever! We were the first and only festival to extend our hands out to EVERY philosophy and theology. http://www.facebook.com/pagandayfest andhttp://www.pagandayfest.com