The following could be, should be, but
perhaps is not, a fable, fantasy or
illusion. Any similarity to anything,
you had better see a Head Shrinker.
Finally, all the names have been
changed to protect my reputation and
to protect me from legal action and
also my psychologist who feels anyone
who does Magick deserves to be
committed. I was first introduced to the
"Necronomicon" by Sol who was, at that
time, guiding me through the Caballa.
He loaned me a copy of the book which
I copied and placed into a loose leaf
binder. I would like to share with
you some of my thoughts and
experiences. However, I will not
guarantee any of this as to accuracy
or actuality. I will allow you, the
reader, to decide for yourself. The was a knock on the door of Sol's
apartment. When opened, a monk stood
at the portal bearing scrolls. These
he presented to Sol and departed. The
scrolls were a copy of the
Necronomicon, presumably translated
from the Sumarian cuneiform into
French. The task of translation from
French to English was required and
completed. It was shortly thereafter
that I came into possession of the
book. Five copies were made. Sol had
one, I a second and the remaining
three were given to other occultists.
I was told the book, as do most
grimoires, was cursed. Anyone using
it would die a horrible death. Some
time later, I heard that three of the
Occultists had died: one in a
automobile accident, falling fallen
from a building and the third in some
way unknown to me. I accepted the curse but continued to
work with the book anyway. More on
the curse later. When the book had been translated from
the French scrolls into English, the
scrolls were no longer needed. Again
came the knock on Sol's door. A
second time the monk stood at the
threshold. He was given the scrolls
and departed. The monk was never
heard from again. The book was not complete in that it
contained no banishings for the
workings. The first task both Sol and
I undertook was to write the proper
banishings for the work.
Herein, allow me to indicate it is
normally accepted that the older the
work, the more powerful the energy
associated with it. This book was
reputed to be ancient, even older than
the Hebrew culture in which I was
raised. However, being knowledgeable
in Hebrew, I researched this area for
a possible key. I began to chant the
"Kaddish", a beautiful Hebrew prayer
intended as adoration for a person who
recently suffered the death of a loved
one. It contains not a prayer for the dead,
but an adoration for God and the
living. It was reputed to have a
mystical origin. I began to use it at
the beginning of any work and ended
with Psalm 23. This Psalm is also
reputed to have mystical origins. I
discovered this arrangement
intuitively after prayers and
meditation for guidance. It was
apparent I was destined to use the
book in some way. Similarly, Sol
began to use the Lord's Prayer. One day, while we were together, Sol
related a story of the time he visited
a psychic friend. She asked him what
the entities attached to him were. He
had been unaware of their presence.
This brought about further realization
the grimoire was incomplete in its
banishing content. He called these
entities "Igigi", as mentioned in the
book. "Igigi" are energy forms of low
order that attach themselves to human
beings and eventually drain energy,
somewhat similar to psychic vampires.
Obviously, it was time to rid himself
of these creatures. Which he did. Here is a further illustration of the
book's power. At the time, I was
sharing an apartment with Bea, a close
friend and a small fiery cockapoo
(cross between a cocker spaniel and a
poodle) dog, "Easy Man". Easy Man and
I got along well. He was hot-tempered
but, friendly. His major desire was
to eat, sleep and wag his long furry
tail almost continuously so close to
the floor it produced a thumping
sound. One could always tell Easy Man
was around. The apartment had four
rooms, one of which was set aside for
a temple. Whenever, I performed a
ritual I closed the temple door. Easy Man would sit outside thumping
his tail indicating he wanted to come
in. On the day I began to use the
Necronomicon, I cautioned Bea to lock
Easy Man in her room and not allow him
to remain outside the temple door.
Easy Man is not an easy dog to lock
up. He usually sits just inside the
room barking and snarling his
displeasure incessantly. I began to
work the "Conjuration of The Fire God"
and also open the "Nanna Gate" as
illustrated in the section entitled
"Luna Exorcism". Unknown to me during
the ritual, Bea, annoyed by Easy Man's
barking, allowed him out of her room.
He ran to station himself outside the
temple door waiting patiently for me
to come out. I finished the ritual and opened the
door. Easy Man was waiting. He
snarled, jumped up, pounced on me and
bit into my arm tearing off a small
(fortunately) piece of flesh. I
looked at him, snarling and growling
in a way I never saw before, readying
himself to jump again. His eyes were
red with fury. He leaped again. This
time I was ready. He leaped toward
me. As he was in mid air I chopped
him across the muzzle. I chopped and
slapped him several times until he
settled down and the Easy Man look
returned to his eyes. I sat on the
floor and cuddled him in my arms. He
licking my hands and face. Easy Man
was back. Finally, realizing the bloody arm, I
called Bea who cleaned and bandaged
it. Never again did she let him get
close to my circle. Hence, the
statement in the book "One of our
colleagues was fearfully attacked by
his dog directly following a fairly
simple and uncomplicated formula from
this book." Months later, while Sol and I were in
my new apartment, we began to discuss
the possibility of publishing the
book. It was at that time,
Schlangekraft Publishing Company, Inc.
was born (Schlangekraft means Serpent
Power as translated from German.)
Initially, we were going to print it
inexpensively in an 8.5 by 11 format.
However, on the Thursday before we
were to print it, I suggested we wait.
Sol was going to lecture on the book
at the "Magickal Childe", an occult
shop in Manhattan, on Sunday coming.
"Perhaps," I suggested, "someone will
come up to you after the lecture and
insist on publishing the book." I was not serious at the time, but
that Sunday a publisher did appear.
The book was subsequently published in
three editions far more exquisitely
than I could have dreamed. One
edition, bound in English leather and
silver embossed covers, numbered and
limited to 666 copies. A wonderful
concept a la Aleister Crowley. A
similar, less expensive edition had
good cloth binding and finally,
several thousand soft cover versions. During this time, Sol and I lost
contact with each other. However, one
day in January, I heard the door open
Sol walked in, came into my kitchen
and tossed a small shopping bag toward
me on the kitchen table. I opened the
bag and extracted my personal copy of
the Necronomicon in English leather
and silver embossing. It was my
number also, 123 and bore the
inscription "From whom the
Necronomicon drew blood". I was
delighted. We sat, looked at each
other and laughed, laughed, laughed.
I still cherish the book and have not
allowed anyone touch it. It is in a
place of reverence. I heard there were many problems in
publishing the book. Schedules were
missed, material late and finally, the
illustrator wanted to quit. It was
said he was locked in the room all
night until he finished the drawings.
The book, it seemed, was resisting
being published. Yet, despite the
difficulties, the book was printed.
During the year following publication,
its notoriety grew. I would receive
a telephone call, the voice on the
other end saying, "Would you like a
copy of the Necronomicon?" "Of course," I would answer. The
person would come to my house and at
my request, drop the book through the
doorway into my temple and leave, most
commenting the book was not for them.
I accumulated as many as eight or nine
books at one time. However, the
Necronomicon was definitely for me. It was said and I repeat, the first
five copies of the book were cursed.
I had one copy in my possession. A
member of the group, whom I shall
call, Mike wanted to borrow the copy
for a year. He asked me each time
we met. For a year, I said, "NO!"
Mike and I would play chess every
Wednesday night at my house. One
Wednesday, Will, a new member of my
magickal group, sat with us. He told
Mike and me his sister was ready to
deliver a baby, but the child was
breech. Meaning the child was
positioned feet first with the
umbilical cord wrapped around its
neck. This would require a Cesarean
section if unchanged. Mike and I
played chess, the child apparently on
our minds, below the surface of our
consciousness. The game ended when
one side had a king and a pawn. On
the other side only a king remained. After the game ended and the pieces
were off the board, we realized the
pawn had been maneuvered around the
King several times. Our thoughts were
that the child would turn that night.
We felt so good and had especially
enjoyed each other's company. When
Mike asked to borrow the book, I
agreed. The next morning the child
did turn and Will's sister delivered
normally. Our intuition had been
correct. Thursday night, I received a phone
call from a friend of Mike's
girlfriend. Mike had not been home
since Wednesday night. I assured her
I would look for him and return her
call tomorrow night. Mike was taken
at times to sleep in my basement
rather than go home. First thing, I
looked in my basement. He had been
there as cigarette butts and ashes
were on the floor. But no trace of
him now. Friday, at work, I began to
call the area hospitals describing
Mike and asking, whether or not, an
emergency patient fitting his
description was accepted Wednesday
night or Thursday. No one fitting his
description was admitted to the
hospitals I called. I began to
meditate, visualizing Mike.
My growing inner feeling was to call
the morgue. Concern increasing, I
called the morgue and to my dismay was
told they had received an unidentified
body early Thursday morning. One of
my students, also working Magick with
me, knew Mike. As I didn't want to go
alone, I explained, "David, Mike has
not been at home since Wednesday. I
called the morgue and was told an
unidentified body fitting his
description was brought in. Would you
go with me?" David accompanied me to the morgue.
There I viewed the body via television
monitor. It was Mike. Both David and
I had to look twice to be sure. The
rear of his head was flattened. The
police record described his demise. "Thursday morning at approximately
2.00am the perpetrator, a swarthy,
dark haired man about 5' 10", dressed
in a flannel shirt and dungarees, ran
into "George's Bar" on Sixth Street
and First Avenue, brandishing a .22
calibre pistol. He screamed, "I'm
going to kill all Puerto Ricans" and
proceeded to fire two shots into the
ceiling. He turned, ran out into the
street, hailed a taxi and fired two
shots killing the driver, Richard
Lane, immediately.
He then turned and saw the victim
crossing the street while walking a
dog. Approaching his second victim
from behind, he fired one round into
the right rear of the victim's head,
piercing the skull and penetrating
deep into the brain where it remains.
The dog ran off. The perpetrator is
still at large. The body bore no
identification and was received (in
the morgue) at 3.30am, Thursday, April
16th, 1979. Officer Paul Montgomery
60947. It is still conjecture whether or not
the curse claimed another victim or,
possibly, Mike sacrificed his life to
allow Will's sister to have a normal
birth. You can be the judge. After, I notified Mike's girlfriend,
located his mother in Florida and
attended the funeral, I gained
permission from Mike's mother to enter
his apartment and dispose of his
belongings. The book was there. I
bore it home. During my travels over the past ten
years, I would mention the
Necronomicon in conversation to others
interested in the Magickal Arts. For
the most part the comments I received
were of fear. Some expressed a
nebulous respect for the book, but
refused to use it. Some expressed an
interest in its workings, but had been
told the book was dangerous. This is
the mystique surrounding the book
since its publication. I do not know how many copies are in
circulation and being used. But I
know it had to be published, if for no
other purpose than to provide the
universe with another source of
knowledge. Only through shedding
light on the mysteries of this world
can we truly understand its good and
its evil.