The book is a collection of reprints of several recruitment pamphlets issued by an underground musical/spiritual cult known as the "Cloak Of Nazili" in the early 1970's - complete lyrics with full color plates of original artwork by PS Perkins.
This edition serves as the minerval guide to the Cloak, a mere introduction to the the world of and beyond the confines of one of the world's most underground, elusive and bizarre hermetic cults. A basic cosmogony and foundation of the surface mythology is cryptically laid out for eager believers and bold adventurers alike. A fusion of reality and fantasy, a "megafictional" blend of myth and fact that at once seeks to explain not only our current place and predicament as a species, but how we got here, and where we might be headed.
What secrets will the next installment hold?
What new strange and esoteric truths are waiting to be revealed?
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A storm is gathering, and many people begin receiving a calling to join the Shining One at a jungle compound in South America with the promise of being spared.
lyrics
I was driving all alone along a dark
And lonesome road a long ways from home
Lightning strikes the radio comes on,
FM antenna lightning rod somebody else’s God
The air inside began to crackle and buzz,
Couldn’t figure out what it was head so full of fuzz
A burning world eclipsed in the shadows
Of a cumulus cloud
The weather’s going to change soon,
The weather’s going to change real soon
The weather’s going to change soon,
Whether that happens to change anything or not
Depends on what’s behind this almost endless
Cumulus cloud
Dare I say, dare I may, the hunter fails his prey
The geese are all on the wing and flying away
Can’t remember someone said something about a wagon
And a man in bed, Zarathustra is dead
Hell of a time to be alive, we must be the sole protectors,
We must toughen up our hides
Me I’d rather lay my head down on that cumulus cloud
The weather’s going to change soon,
The weather’s going to change real soon
The weather’s going to change soon,
Whether that happens to change our tune or not
Depends on just how long we’re stuck beneath this...
Thunderhead, wiping off the dirty slate,
Thinking, man this could be great
All the soda pop cans and paper plates
Are squeezing through the storm grates
Asphalt makes my bones ache
This desert is turning into a lake
Welcoming the aqua stead,
Bless this thunderhead...
A Multimedia Puzzle-Story Of An Immortal Being's Struggle To Define And Exert Their Will Upon A Wholly Deterministic And Ambivalent Multiverse, And The Strange Cult Who Loves Them.
From harpist Sarah Pagé comes an album that feels like a fairy tale, full of mystic beauty and gentle, fluttering melodies. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 1, 2023