MARCH, 2002 E.A.

... they (Australia) celebrate Easter the exact same way we do: commemorating the death and resurrection of Jesus by telling our children a giant bunny rabbit left chocolate eggs in the night. Now, I wonder why weíre f***** up as a race. Anybody got any idea? You know, Iíve read the Bible. I canít find the word bunny or chocolate anywhere in the f***ing book. Where do they come up with this shit? Why not goldfish left Lincoln logs in your sock drawer? As long as youíre making shit up - you know - go hog-wild. At least the goldfish with a Lincoln log on its back going across your carpet has some miraculous connotations: "Mum, today I found a Lincoln log in me sock drawer." Thatís the story of Jesus...

- Bill Hicks

In the spirit of this Xtian holiday (actually, originally a pagan fertility rite - perhaps thatís where the bunny comes in, but shhhhh...), we would like to offer some friendly guidance to those fans who are, perhaps, having a dilemma of sorts with regards to whether or not the contents of "LATERALUS" are suitable to their personal religious beliefs. First though, weíd like to thank our friend Greg at the "DailyGrail" site for suggesting that we take a look at the "Lateralus" review posted on the site. Overall, it is a very positive review, with the reviewer drawing parallels (in his interpretation of the lyrics)between Maynardís words and Xtian (or Galilean) teachings. This, however, seems to have caused confusion among some of the siteís Xtian readers. For instance, one poor souls asks: "Is this for real? Tool Christains? What... ( I ) need more evidence. A few years ago I tossed my Tool CD Ďcause I thought it was a bad influence; to this day I switch them off on the radio. Am I way off or are you?"

Well, hereís our advice: If Toolís music and lyrics are at odds with your beliefs, then you DID the right thing in tossing it (although we suggest next time you destroy it by burning it in a fireplace so that a like-minded individual doesnít happen upon it and find him/herself subjected to its questionable contents). However, in light of this new interpretation on the site that the band may be espousing Xtian principles, then you have made a terrible mistake, and should definitely BUY another copy. In fact, I was talking about this with Adam the other night in our local pub and he suggested that you should probably buy TWO COPIES just in case someone else convinces you that the band is in league with the devil. This way, when another Xtain review gives the CD the green light, youíll already have a backup to enjoy without having to go out and find another copy. I mean, what if Wal-Mart is temporarily out of stock?

Hereís another comment on their bulletin board: "Some of the references (on Aenima) made to Christianity are somewhat harsh, but I believe Tool has always intended to attack the sometimes corrupt institution of the church, rather than the actual religion and the beliefs of Christians."

Ah, youíre getting warmer... and while weíre on the subject of this "sometimes corrupt institution", I didnít want to say anything, but, I understand that there are 45,000 of them out there, boys and girls (but mainly little boys). The good news is that (so the Pope says) they wonít be protected by the Church anymore. ANYMORE? Here we have another example of self-preservation at any price. Want to bet that weíll soon have another mysterious wave of "Blessed Virgin Mary" sightings somewhere to help defray the cost (300 million) of settlements paid to those molested by the Popeís pedophile-priests? Strangest of all, when describing the actions of the guilty priests, the Pope referred to the "mystery of evil." Mystery?!! What?!! I thought they knew what caused evil. Isnít it supposed to be the Devil? You know, the guy with the horns and red tail. All those people burned to death at the stake - wasnít that because of the Devil? Youíre not gonna tell us now that it was an inherited defect their biochemistry, are you? Part of our low-budget creation, or the shoddy work of an inferior God? Remember what Hicks said about Waco: When the Feds tried to justify their actions by saying that they thought the cult members might be child molesters, he replied that if that was the case then why donít we see tanks knocking down the doors to the Catholic church?

The news story of the Catholic crack-down on pedophile priests was followed by the continued trouble in the Middle-East; the same pictures Iíve seen all my life of Palestinians throwing rocks at Israeli tanks. The tanks are more technologically advanced now, but I think the rocks are recycled. Itís like some morbid game being played out on television every day. Iím just waiting for one of the "players" to throw a tantrum and knock all the pieces off of the board. Please understand, Iím not taking sides. I donít know whoís to blame, nor do I have the answer, other than perhaps we should take a closer look at the common denominator here.

And then thereís the suicide bombers with small explosives and bags of sharp nails, glass and other junk strapped to their person. I wonder if they ever thought about huddling together in larger numbers, thus creating in effect a much larger bomb. Of course they should probably first test this new suicide-weapon (of mass destruction) at a remote location. Preferably somewhere in the middle of the desert (where there are fewer innocent bystanders) just like we did with our early atomic bombs. In fact, perform several tests. Which brings me to this:


Suicide bomber (in heaven), youíve got no d***. Your d*** was blown to bits by that bomb strapped to your waist. Some dog on Jaffa street is now eating your d***. Thatís why there are so many virgins here, stupid.

But honestly, look what weíre doing to the worldís youth. Catholic priests molesting boys in the West. Suicide bombers in the East (supported by the religious beliefs of their fanatical parents). The mystery of evil indeed. But in whose name? Still, on this holiest of holidays, I pray that these lost sheep will find their way to heaven.

With this in mind I would like to share the following sent by Chris:


The temperature of Heaven can be rather accurately computed. Our authority is the Bible. Isaiah 30:26, describing Heaven: Moreover, the light of the moon shall be as the light of the sun and the light of the sun shall be sevenfold as the light of seven days. Thus, Heaven receives from the moon as much radiation as the Earth does from the sun, and in addition seven times seven (forty-nine) times as much as the Earth does from the sun, or 50 times in all. The light we receive from the moon is 1/10,000 of the light we receive from the sun, so we can ignore that. The radiation falling on Heaven will heat it to the point where the heat lost by radiation is just equal to the heat received by radiation, i.e., Heaven loses 50 times as much heat as the Earth by radiation. Using the Stephan-Boltzman fourth-power law for radiation, we have (H/E)4 = 50 where E is the absolute temperature of the Earth, 300 K (27 C). This gives H, the absolute temperature of Heaven as 798 K (525 C)! Close to 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit. Your kitchen oven wonít get nearly that hot. The exact temperature of Hell cannot be computed. However, Revelation 21:8 says: "But the fearful and unbelieving... shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone." A lake of molten brimstone (or sulfur) means that its temperature must be at or below the boiling point, 444.6 C (above that point it would be a vapor, not a lake). We have, then, that Heaven at 525 C is hotter than Hell, at less than 445 C.

Someone will of course check these figures and pass the results along. (NOTE: I know what youíre thinking, but donít worry. Like the bumper sticker says: NOTHING FAILS LIKE PRAYER

... has been postponed until next month due to on-going research. This involves the series of bizarre coincidences in the making of the video for "FAAIP de OIAD" and the story behind a mysterious figure whose number was Z416175.

"My beloved in unto me as a cluster of Cyprus in the vineyards of Engadi."

Solomonís Song of Songs

During the first day of principle photography for the new Tool video, I had a chance to discuss some things with Maynard during long periods of down-time. Though it is fairly well known that M is a wine enthusiast whose cellar contains many excellent vintages, there is one aspect of his interests in wine has been kept very secret. This is his studies of al-khemical viticulture, some of which I will now try to explain.

We were on a construction site in downtown L.A., in an old building that was being renovated, the kind of place that film makers out here salivate over to use as location sets. As the crew spent the entire day trying to get the lighting right, Maynard, I and several others waited patiently in a large room with a dirt floor that smelled of cat urine, rats and their aerial cousins, pigeons. As a crew member continuously sprayed a fine mist of water onto the dirt to reduce the threat of Hunta virus (so we joked), the odor was made more tolerable as our friend Leah waved a phial of her perfume under our nostrils ( I of course, being an adept, had earlier astrally projected myself into a Tahitian flower shop). With our olfactories duly assaulted, M and I began talking about dirt... but not just any dirt. When the subject came to pedology (the study of soils), it suddenly flashed on me: "Wait, youíre not thinking about..." But he was. Years ago the Lodge had been playing with idea of trying to create Templar nectar, but we just didnít have the resources back then. These werenít exactly black RAdiations received through the prism of the Lodge, but, rather, were faint rumors heard through the occult grapevine (pun intended). What M was planning on resurrecting was a secret concerning the viticultral activities of the medieval Order of the Knights Templar, in particular the strange characteristics of the yield of their vineyards in the South of France and elsewhere.

Before I continue I want to say a few things about what others have hinted about with regards to this arcane subject. Every once in a while in the world of the occult one hears veiled references to this procedure, usually with special grapes referred to as "Blue Apples." This, of course, comes from one of the coded parchments discovered in 1886 (or 1887) by the priest, Berenger Sauniere, in the church at Rennes-le-Chateau. (NOTE: there is an ongoing debate as to whether or not these parchments are genuine or were, instead, forged by someone with a political agenda, perhaps trying to establish a legitimate claim to the legendary treasure believed to have been deposited in the region). These "Blue Apples" are also supposedly related to an optical phenomenon said to occur at midday on January 17 when the sun shines through a certain stained-glass window in the church (remodeled AFTER the discovery of the parchments I might add), thus causing blue spots (Pommes Bleues or "apples" )to appear on certain features inside the church, giving, perhaps, a clue as to the nature and whereabouts of the horde of riches.

Others believe the secret of the Pommes Bleues may be encoded in the painting by Nicholas Poussin entitled "Autumn, or the Grapes of the Promised Land" that currently hangs in The Louvre. In this painting the purplish-blue grapes are unnaturally large (with two men required to carry a single bunch), an indication that they were grown by the "giants" who live in Canaan. These giants are the Nephilim, or those with the Blood Royal (blood allied to the gods, that is). Along similar lines are cryptic references to "vine grafting" and "golden seeds" that are carefully guarded by European nobility. This refers not to wine, but to blood, again as in a royal bloodline. "Pruning" and "vine grafting" are code-words for a process of selective breeding with regards to the ancient code of Grail Kingship.

(NOTE: students of the Rennes affair might be interested in the history of the "Templar Knightsí Wine Cellar" in Cejkovice (Czech). Evidently this was established in 1248 after the Templars came to Bohemia and Moravia from France. After the order was "dissolved" by the Pope and King, the cellars were taken over by the Jesuit Order. Then in 1773, the Habsburgs became the owners, this until 1918. Today they still make a "Red Templar" and "White Templar" wine.)

There are also references in the literature to "red and white juices" that comprise the alchemical elixir. In the coded shadow-language of the tantric sciences these elixirs are the secretions of sacred sexuality, whether lunar generated (silver), solar (gold) or mixed (mercury). Again from Solomonís Song of Songs, "You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride; you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain

We know that to the ancient mystery schools grapes symbolized illumination, but is the connection between the grape and gold meant to be taken literally? Surprisingly, the answer might be yes. According to Comte de Saint Germain: "If a vine is planted in an area where there is gold in abundance, the roots will absorb the tiny particles of the precious ore which become distributed throughout the stalk, leaves, and fruit of the plants." While this could be a metaphor for a royal bloodline, it could also be a straight forward account of a technique of viticulture (in a sense, hiding in plain slight).

It was on Cyprus that the Knights Templar may have rediscovered the science of this viticulture of the royal priesthood of Al Khemia whose black soil was rich in certain rare elements (minute particles of gold or other platinum group metals) as a result of being irradiated by the heavens (due to the impact of a celestial object in the earthís distant past). Therefore the magical properties of this wine was not strictly the result of botrytised grapes, although this so-called "Nobel rot" may be a factor.

The reason for distilling and imbibing such a precious wine may have been to activate the higher chakras, and their corresponding endocrine glands - in particular the pineal-pituitary hypothalamic complex. Higher levels of these hormonal secretions act as a kind of superconductor, causing our neural circuitry to resonate at a higher frequency. In this way the knights of the Grail (witness Parzival and Lohengrin) achieved heightened awareness.

Knowledge of this "lost" science is still symbolized by the caduceus emblem adopted by the medical profession, with coiled serpents spiraling around the winged staff (spinal cord). The wings of the mystical swan signify the brains LATERAL ventricular structure (see "Genesis of the Grail Kings" by Lawrence Gardner for more information on our occult anatomy).

Today you can buy a bottle of a Cypriot after-dinner wine called Commanderia (named after the Templarsí headquarters on the island). Itís not bad, but unfortunately it doesnít possess the magical properties of the original. Not wishing to be "GRUDGING" alchemists, we will post more information on this arcane viticulture if/when Maynard obtains the all-important prima materia. Until then enjoy a Beaujolais Nouveau.

will be playing on April 18 at the Pasadena City College (Harbeson Hall) located at the intersection of Hill and Colorado. The performance starts at noon, so donít be late. Admission is FREE and all ages are welcome. SWATI will also be playing at THE TEMPLE BAR (1026 Wilshire Blvd in Santa Monica) on April 21 at 9:00 PM. If youíre in Southern Kalifornia that night, come see those magic fingers in action.


Q: Does Tool ever put any occult stuff on their tee-shirts or other merch?
A: Thereís one shirt that is quite occult. Itís called "Bone Layer" I believe, but Iím not going to divulge anything else at this time.

Okay, is anyone ready for more Victor Cypert - the man who called Jefferson an immoral asshole?

(And Other Esoteric Lies Told During Initiation)
by Victor Cypert

The other night I was out at a local night-spot, checking out all the nubile young people in their crazy, fancy overalls and straw hats (hey, this is Bumf***, Alabama Iím talking about here - and fashion is determined in large part by geography) when I saw someone who caught my eye. Approaching cautiously, I used my best pick-up line, "Hey, baby, I bet I look like your brother, huh?"

The Hermaphrodite in question flashed its bright, toothless grin and replied that it didnít have a brother but it had a Daddy and were I merely 150 pounds heavier I could pass for him. So I bought it a drink and tried to make some small talk: "Iím a State employee, what do you do?" "Oh, wow! Iíve always wanted to live and work on one of those industrial-sized pig farms!" "You raise chickens, too? And I thought that was some of that fancy Wal-Mart brand cologne you were sporting!"

As the night wore on, my chances with Bobby Jo dwindled away to zilch. Maybe I just didnít have that special "something" it was looking for (an extra toe or chromosome can help.) Or maybe I just had one too many teeth in my head, or maybe it was a he (I am a he) and it had recently left prison and was looking for some "strange." I donít know what the story was but as soon as a strapping lad of some 23 years and 333 pounds walked through the front door, my goose was cooked. To top it off, he drove a garbage truck so there was no way I could compete with Skilled Labor. Booby Jo went out to the parking lot with Big Bubba (if you weigh over 270 pounds and live in the South your name is Big Bubba - itís one of those little known laws of the land, a hold over from the Confederacy.) I just sat there and stared at them.

Dejected, I ordered another drink and began to brood. Perchance it would be best if I took what was left of my shattered ego and return to my abode and have sex with the only person that truly loves me - my hand. (try this: Spank it and just before you pop, think of Jesus, about how much he loves you and cares for you. When you get cleaned up, write to your local OTO Lodge and tell them that I said youíre now a member of the VIII * and that youíre demanding your rightful seat on the Areopagus. If youíre a girl, use a finger or seven. Try to have multiple orgasms. During each one try to scream out the name of one of the various Biblical Prophets, Saints, or Apostles. Save Jesus for last. [ If youíre Jewish, substitute Moses or Jehovah for Jesus. If youíre Hindu, ignore this vain attempt to corrupt the mysteries of your religion. If youíre a Buddhist, you shouldnít be touching that sorrowful thing in the first place.] If they admit you to the Sovereign Sanctuary, demand my reinstatement and punishment of my enemies. Iíd be much obliged.)

Finishing my Jack off [ no, silly... Jack Danielís... Iím still at the bar,] I shuddered slightly as the memory of the hangover on my 31st Birthday came back to me. It was time to go and enjoy myself with myself. Staggering out the door, I headed toward my car.

From the back seat of one of those extended cab trucks I could hear the red necks doing what they do best: making more surly welfare children for my tax dollars to support. I suppressed my disgust and paused to listen for a minute or two. "Bubba! Not there! I donít want it in there!"
"But I like it in there!"
"Well, I donít! Youíre crushing me!"
"But thisíll only sting for a moment, baby!"

The world began to melt away from my field of vision. An intense memory. blocked for years from my recollection, emerged. The small blue men... the gray heads with the black eyes... the hum of the craft as I was taken aboard... a feeling like all the weight in the world is holding you down... the sudden realization that youíre quite naked... then the probe. MY GOD! THE PROBE!

I came back to find myself sitting on a curb, cell-phone in hand, talking to a representative of "Big Peteís Leather Supply & Toy Co." asking if they could provide me with their biggest, shiniest, chrome-plated steel dildo. The man on the other end of the phone was most helpful on this point but when I requested the gravitational restraint field generator and the memory eradication ray he balked. All they could offer in that department was a set of handcuffs and a half case of video-head cleaner. "Largest Supply of Sexual Aides On the East Coast" my ass. I guess I need to move to L.A. where this stuff is de rigeur.

Composing myself as best I could, I headed for home. Once there, I immediately began to reconstruct the scenario of my abduction. After two hours of forcing myself to recall every sickening, frightening detail I realized what had forced me to remember the scenario" "This will only sting for a moment." Those lying, no good, dirty gray bastards! And they didnít even call! I got up and headed for a shower, feeling dirty and used.

Now between that phrase and "the tax structure in this State is only slightly regressive" more people have let themselves be hurt in the process of getting screwed. The only people who have been screwed more harshly, with less lube, while being mocked, degraded, and hoodwinked are those poor dumb saps that threw good money after bad every time the plate was passed.

Now between the three: the over-taxed, the abducted, and the Southern Baptist I think that my lot in life is far preferable. So I had tissue samples removed from every part of my being and my DNA is currently being incorporated in a bio-engineered device that is being used to wage war on a race of peaceful, sentient beings that live on the far side of the galaxy. I donít pay over half of my wages to the IRS (and there is nothing more heartbreaking than having to write a check for $250.000 to Uncle Sam simply because youíre talented.) And I donít have to worry about my local clergyman using my tithe to buy condoms to keep the kids healthy while he buggers them.

Given this, I would conclude by reminding my readers that your taxes are due April 15th, 2002 e.a. FNORD.



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