Opened by KC, LIRP, KC, LIRH.

The same thing happened before – the spirit was elusive and the realm was a bit faint. The incense smoke did turn into a skull over the crystal ball, that was particularly creepy.

The Skeleton was there again, and tested well by signs.

Hello. A nod.

The spirit really has to knock off the ghost of christmas future act. She’s really skeletal this time, complete with cloth grave wrap and a scythe. I show up in Abaddon. The landscape is so completely destroyed there’s no place to stand. It looks like someone took a hammer to each and every possible rock in the realm. What’s left is jagged spires poking up over a gulf. There’s nothing to do but float.

Where’s the garden? The spirit shakes it’s head. I attempt to will myself in the garden and we don’t get anywhere. The spirits just hovering there a bit looking at me.

Show me something it’s not obvious you govern. I see a steak in a pan, which then plays backwards. The steak is uncooked, lifted out of the pan, put back in a tray, gets lifted up to the cow, and then uncut back onto the corpse, which when goes back into the factory, has the skin put back on, the organs put back in and fades right before it comes back to life. The whole thing is like some sort of completely screwed up resurrection story.

Alright, why are we here? “You’ve been a terrible person”** it says. Which is true. In real life I’m now the subject of a social media pranks story for horsing around with a professional associate who decided we took things too far and complained to the tech blogging circles. My name isn’t attached to it but it’s pretty obvious this is what the spirit means.

Right, but I eventually let him off the hook and sent him a link to recover his profile. The spirit changes the landscape. We’re back in the garden.

Now this brings up a particularly interesting theological problem. If the spirit doesn’t judge me, it means we judge ourselves. While this jives with the previous vision, it also means we judge ourselves in death. The spirit wasn’t trying to bargain with me, the spirit just was. Therefor then there is no judgement, we make our own afterlife. The implications are rather profound – Does Hitler live in regrets? Is it floating along on a boat in the mercury sea? Do our ancestors who can’t remember their lives due to Alzheimers go directly to the summerlands? I am here in the Body of Light, would my memory be better if I were dead and not trying to maintain a trance? I should have asked, but I simply didn’t think of it during the trance. I’m looking forward to asking next week.

We all have colds in my family, can you fix us up? The spirit put it’s hand on my chest, and I saw it literally putting the white bloodcells into my astral form. My chest grew warm.

Can you tell me about [name] and [name]’s relationship? I see those two as glowing versions of themselves. They move apart. Another person is here, he’s decently well built, dark hair, greek or italian features and wearing a motorcycle riding jacket in a modern style. There’s just one “link” between her and the new spirit, but between my buddy and the girl there’s the same link but another link also. The other link is red, which is my color for spiritual stuff, it wraps around him with thorns. I requested it cut.

Note – I found out later he’s Indian. 

So we’re in the garden, can we see God? A vision of the sun. The sun is too hot to approach. It’s actually a throne. “Not yet… not yet.”

I thanked the spirit for it’s time and sent it along.

**My wife had an interesting comment – the prank of sending in a fake obituary to the social media site is a direct affront to Saturn. The spirit was amused, but not only was I actually co-opting someone elses obituary in real life, which they might not appreciate, but I’m teasing Saturn too by pretending someone is dead and generating that sort of energy from people who weren’t in on the prank.