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"Hello listeners, this is a Message from the Medium.
I would like to say now, right at the outset, that I am not under any misapprehension that you will –or that you should– believe what I am about to tell you. Only that I am about to share something with you to the best of my ability.
A few Saturdays ago, I was on one of my usual weekend shopping errands. I had stopped in a café. I wasn’t feeling very well. I ordered a coffee, I don’t remember drinking it. In fact, after ordering my coffee, I don’t remember much of anything. I must have dozed off. When I finally got up to leave, in a daze, I reached down to my pocket. My phone was missing. I spent a hazy hour retracing my steps through the city, but to no avail.
That night, I had a very unusual, troubled dream, in which I heard a voice speaking to me as a diamond of blue light whirled before my eyes. When I awoke, I had no memory of what had been said. All I could remember was the spinning diamond, much like the one depicted in the cover art provided for this release. Reaching for my eyeglasses on the nightstand, to my total amazement, there was my phone. The first thing I noticed upon picking it up was how hot it was, as if it had come straight from an oven. I looked down at it, half expecting it to burst into flames. But, instead, I saw a message flash on its screen. I had a voicemail.
I speak to very few people on the telephone, and rarely, if ever, do I get voice mails. Still somewhat hesitant to handle it, I picked up the phone, nevertheless. What if a family member was in the hospital? Or had died? The time read 6:21 am. While the caller’s identity came up as unknown, I could see that it was from overseas. Not exactly a morning person, I’m embarrassed to admit I can’t recall the country code, but for some reason, at the time, I remember thinking that it was the code for India. I tapped the still hot screen, and I listened.
Shaking from nerves, I then uploaded this message to my computer. Afterwards, I tried to call the number back, only to find the call had vanished from my inbox. The following is the message that was left for me. Thank you for listening."
Transcription of the phone message:
Oh, sorry, is this the right number?…Hello?…May I speak to the Medium, please?...I don’t have long, it’s 1986 on this end…Ah, a recording machine…Hello Medium, this is Czar Lipstick returning your call…(garbled noise?) With the (approaching?) of Mabon (?) and the opening of the next portal, I’m sending four more tracks…I discovered them hidden in a hollow grimoire…The stars are moving fast…I’ll (handle?) all ritual work on my end…You retrieve the music as agreed…When Venus reaches its greatest illuminated extent, you must publish the recordings…Ignite the third eye…Enrique Abu is likely spinning in his grave but this must be accomplished...Another event is (also fast approaching?)…OK, brilliant! Cheers! (Garbled?)
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Greetings from the Medium:
Hello listeners. This is a message from the Medium. Late October to early November is a period marked by various holidays and festivals that venerate the perennial themes of a retreat back into the underworld, the honoring of the dead, the beginning of the dark cycle, and the thinning of the veil between realities. So it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that I was contacted again by the Ninth Heaven’s self-appointed manager, Czar Lipstick, during the seasonal crack in the fabric of space/time for the purpose of publishing another album of lost recordings.
It is now clear to me there was an ulterior motive behind my initial compact with Czar Lipstick, in which I was granted a recording of the Ninth Heaven’s performance at Loch Ness in exchange for my sharing with him a ritual operation for achieving time travel, The High Orphic Mass of Kronos, received by me during the creation of my fictional young adult fantasy novel, Jurate’s Castle.
He is no longer bound to his native alternate dimension in the 1980s. Over the past few months, I have been furnished with numerous, unknown Ninth Heaven recordings. He insists I disseminate these recordings in this dimension, always on very peculiar dates. Given the highly strange and unnerving experiences of obtaining these recording, I shudder to think what would happen if I were to fail…
The ramping up of his activities as of late betokens some outlandish plan. Czar Lipstick has also hinted at some great event, almost surely supernatural in nature, that is soon to come.
If all of this sounds absurd, I now present to you another enormously convincing voice message left for me, this time in my work email inbox. When I attempted to email back, my computer shut down. Thank you, IT, for attempting to restore my computer. And thank you for listening.
The Message:
Hello? Is this the medium? Right. Isis is gathering the body parts. Soon with her artificial member she will birth the new reality, and with it must come this music release. We must penetrate this reality. Now! The thinning of the veils is upon us. Like Osiris, Enrique will arise from the grave! Do not fail in this. I’ve safeguarded the tracks. All you have to do is fall sick and on the way be prepared to dream. Do not see a doctor! You may think it is pneumonia. Don't despair. it is the only way. Right. Cheers! Do not see a doctor!
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Transcription of the phone message:
Oh, sorry, is this the right number?…Hello?…May I speak to the Medium, please?...I don’t have long, it’s 1986 on this end…Ah, a recording machine…Hello Medium, this is Czar Lipstick returning your call…(garbled noise?) With the (approaching?) of Mabon (?) and the opening of the next portal, I’m sending four more tracks…I discovered them hidden in a hollow grimoire…The stars are moving fast…I’ll (handle?) all ritual work on my end…You retrieve the music as agreed…When Venus reaches its greatest illuminated extent, you must publish the recordings…Ignite the third eye…Enrique Abu is likely spinning in his grave but this must be accomplished...Another event is (also fast approaching?)…OK, brilliant! Cheers! (Garbled?)
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