For Those About to Curse, we Salute you
For Those About to Curse, we Salute you
By Steven & Evan Strong
Special Thanks to Carly Bratt
First up, our apologies to the group Colosseum, whose album’s title, For Those About To Die, We Salute You, was the inspiration behind our slightly revised heading. The music was dedicated to the gladiators just before going to battle in an arena, in particular to those who would fall and die. Indirectly this is the central theme of this chapter, but with an Original twist in proceedings that required substituting die for curse, but more of that soon enough. To begin with we have to first validate an underlying premise, which for many may seem ‘primitive,’ or simply ridiculous.
Do you believe in the power of prayers, mantras or positive incantations? What can be stated with confidence is that those subscribing to a Hindu, Islamic, Jewish, Buddhist or Christian faith, along with people beholding to any Indigenous spirituality, the answer has to be a resounding yes. If so, trapped as we are in a world of opposites, the same must be said for the truth of evil prayers, invocations and curses. If good exists, so too does evil, you cannot have one without the other.
There is a cartoon we saw a few years ago that is often mentioned in our presentations that depicts God and the Devil seated on a park bench playing chess. Both have the same number of pieces with equal value and abilities, one deity plays for light the other darkness, and the Devil wants not only to resign, but cease playing forever. He has had enough and no longer wants to play another game of life, death and judgment. God stridently objects and refuses to accept his withdrawal, pointing out if he resigns in perpetuity there is no more game, no point in playing and no reason for humans to incarnate. If there was no injustice, ignorance and strife, there is nothing to learn, nothing to fight against to test each person’s resolve and commitment to good intentions and actions. If this place was purely good, free of evil and malice there would be nothing to profit from or struggle against. Incarnating on earth would be a pleasant scenic holiday, but the soul will never be challenged or disturbed. Sure the birds are pretty and scenery stunning, but there is no unfair lesson to overcome and no point coming. So evil is more a blessing than it ever was a curse.
And that curse must always be spirit derived, never human conspired. Cursing others is unforgivable and steps beyond all mortal boundaries. No-one ever has the right to play judge, jury and executioner, that is well beyond any human’s pay scale. Especially when every soul today is here simply because they failed badly during every previous mortal incarnation. Original society, and many other religions both formal and Indigenous, have fallen into the insidious ‘pay-back’ trap. Whether the inquisition, warfare under the banner of a fictitious God, or vengeful payback through pointing a bone or rock seeking punishment, all forms of institutionalised violence leading on to death are wrong at every level.
A Curse Too Far
We certainly are not pontificating from a pulpit, but in my case speaking from the gutter. Quite a few years ago when teaching in Moree and heavily involved in all aspects of Original education, I was in part responsible for inviting what was then an unknown dance troupe called Bangarra Dance Company to the town. We invited the entire ensemble to do a week of workshops through all the Primary and Secondary schools, culminating in a combined presentation at the Moree Hall on Friday night. Thousands came to that final night of dance, and for nearly everyone in the town, it was considered a great success.
But one Original Elder was far less enthusiastic, as Bangarra were merging traditional and contemporary dance. This was quite radical at the time and this Elder found it an offence to Original culture and bailed me up in the main street and made his displeasure and anger very clear, in loud audible tones. He was not discussing but yelling at me, demanding to know why I would be so insensitive. To begin with, my response was measured and calm, but no matter how it was phrased this person saw no worth in this endeavour, only a cardinal affront to Original protocol. So much so, he cursed me, making it clear I would die, soon.
I could have merely said “fine by me” and walked away. Literally ‘turning the other cheek’ then moving on. That was the sensible non-confrontational path to take, but that is what I should have done, returning the curse was no better than what he did, and in some ways worse. Irrespective of would have or should have, within a day the same person got in his car and drove on to the road forgetting to check his rear vision mirror. The semitrailer was heavily loaded and had no chance to stop, death was immediate and the man who cursed me was gone forever. It could have been purely a coincidental accident or due to the curse I invoked. To this day I know which and it is something that will never leave me, whether careless whispers or angry words, they all have an effect, and in this case, they did.
Many Years Later
It was some considerable time later before I revisited the darker side of Original mysticism through contact with many of the sacred rocks we are custodians. To begin with, our rational left hemisphere was still very much running the show and admissions. All we could initially see were rocks bearing hallmarks of very advanced technology well beyond the capacity and limitations of all supposed Original stick, stone and bone tool-kits.
Then the rocks began to stir and wake from their stasis. Both the positive and negative energy either stored within or able to be drawn from its human host, made its presence known. Fortunately, none were actual curses as such, but what was clear and present was that these rocks have an awareness of humans and what lies hidden within, and the capacity to do things science utterly denies.
What we also know and have witnessed many times, is that others who often innocently came upon similar rocks were indeed cursed by them. Some had bleeding noses, some were worse, and sadly, some died. So by now, we are well past doubting. One such example of a person badly affected by one male rock (Carly’s Rock) relates to a lady who contacted us quite recently and personally sought us out at the Paradigm Shift Conference.
We already knew the rock was causing distress, her bleeding nose, which is the first symptom of a sacred rock in attack mode, along with a somewhat confusing mention of machinery being affected was enough to know something was seriously amiss. Upon meeting this lady it was obvious I had underestimated the gravity of the issues involved and angst already caused.
The first of the two visits was all about what had happened. The rock was ‘found’ directly beneath high voltage power lines, within an area known to be most intensive gas field ‘fracked’ location in Australia. The place is like a giant ‘rabbit warren,’ holes everywhere with pipes snaking across the plains carrying the gas to storage facilities. The land has been murdered spiritually, and even more so if parked under wires leaking high voltage. This rock was in deep trouble and almost done in when this lady answered its desperate call.
The problem was since saving it from certain death, the rock was still so imbalanced and angry it ‘bit the hand that freed it.’ It had to, protocol demanded no less, as a men’s rock should never be touched by any woman, ever. It was an unfortunate Catch 22 situation for this woman, simply because Original Law and Lore demand that there is secret woman’s business and secret men’s business, and never the twain shall meet. That is why her nose was bleeding and that is why four earthmoving machines they owned had broken down and none were moving. She was adamant that the rock was solely responsible, and was undeniably correct. This lady was past distraught, she was fearful things would only get worse, and she was right again.
I gave her two options to consider. She either found a local Original Elder well versed in Lore and protocol under the condition it never grace a museum or display cabinet and was given ceremony, or it joins our ensemble which hopefully will soon be stored and displayed on Ramindjeri country. Keeping it with her would be fatal, of that we were both in agreement.
My expectation was that at some time tomorrow she would return to our stall at the convention and tell us what her decision was, but it was no more than half an hour later before she returned seeming even more distressed than before. She still was, but in one respect there was also light at the end of the tunnel. Her solution was simple. “Take it.” This wasn’t a request but more a gentle ultimatum, she was convinced that if they drove home from the conference with the rock in tow, the car they sat in would malfunction and they would be badly hurt, or much worse. This certainly wasn’t given in jest, it was clear she feared for her life, and if seeking an appropriate Elder the rock had to go back in the car. So it was agreed we would care for it and begin the process of heal and repair, which has almost been completed.
A Close Inspection
It is a male rock, giving a rational explanation as to why I believe it is male is the only part of this exercise that is nigh on impossible to quantify. To say it just looks and feels male falls short on every level bar one, it attacked this woman and openly accepted my contact and made no attempt to challenge me or cause distress. I knew that would happen from the first time we met because it is a male rock.
The rest is much easier, it has two brown coats and the lighter colour is covered in hundreds of very small cuts, while the darker brown coat has been left uncut. One such clean area is a depressed area set aside as a thumb-rest. On the heavily marked lighter veneer is a small section roughly cut into, deliberately so in creating a place for the index finger to rest and absorb the power within. The rock is meant to held, never pointed, but meditated upon. Unlike most of the sacred, magical and star rocks which only symbiotically activate when held, this rock will function whether held or left alone. Whether this is residual after a long stint under high voltage electricity which was absorbed and is now discharging or part of its natural delivery system, is still to be determined.
What is quite rare is the exotic reddish-brown infill that is still attached and is certainly not a natural event. We have three other rocks that also carry infills, but as to why this is done and the purpose it serves, is unknown.
A Recurring Point of Contention
What was as much a travesty as it is symptomatic of all forms of the newer forms of communication via computers, were the attacks and ill-informed lectures this lady had to endure from the time she first shared news of the discovery of this rock on our Facebook. Many commentators demanded that this woman immediately put the rock back where it was found, they took the high moral ground in deciding they knew what was best. Not knowing it was doused in a constant stream of electricity surrounded by gas leaking all over and machines scouring and digging, they still knew that the rock going back into that toxic environment was the only proper choice. Along with a barrage of unsolicited advice, aggressive language and threats of pay-back, there was one person, in particular, claiming Original ancestry who was as strident as he was abusive in the vitriol directed at this lady.
It was far too spiteful and upsetting to allow to continue and Evan had no choice but to intervene, which soon after led to both Evan and myself being cursed to die yet again, which we will return to soon enough. But for now, to fully appreciate the strength and scope of curses it is more useful to begin with a far less deadly invocation through examining my time battling a ‘falling down’ curse first, then move on to the more lethal hexes.
This account of angry rocks is by no means unusual, it would not be hard to tally up double figures when it comes to rocks of this calibre. Many are much more dangerous through to fatal, all that needs to be understood is that rocks like these have to be approached with care and caution. What is never in doubt is that being cursed by any sacred rock is never a good result.
Falling Down and Getting up
The next curse was mine alone, Evan was spared the ordeal of being literally thrown face-first to the ground. By my count, it happened five times, three times in the bush and twice on the pavements at Lismore and Central Railway Station.
Unlike every other curse to be discussed, while all others have a known protagonist/source, this one is nameless. To this day I still do not who or from where it originated. This was all about the constancy of how it occurred and repetition of being thrown to the ground with such incredible force, nothing about the way I fell five times over was close to normal.
After the third fall, supplemented by the amount of pain and blood spilt, it was obvious preventative measures had to be taken through the carrying of a sacred protection rock wherever I went. It worked! Whenever I had the rock with me the curse was gone. The solution seemed so simple, all I had to do was remember to take the rock with me when leaving the house, but that is a herculean feat for any male who is unable to multi-task.
If only, but alas, there were two occasions when the rock never left the house and I did. On the first omission, I was on country that was quite steep and once realising my protection rock was not packed in the carry bag, I was so mindful of what could happen. Every step was taken with due diligence, doubly so when scaling cliffs and narrow ledges. So careful and deliberate was my pace and placement, I still remember almost boasting to my companion that it seemed that the effects of the curse were wearing off. As I said this I could see up ahead on the flat track a fallen tree. At first glance, it did not seem a real issue, as it was less than half a metre in height and an elementary task to straddle.
To this day I still maintain I cleared the blockage comfortably by some distance. Nevertheless, my toe did clip the log and my rapid descent was just as quick as the others. What was a huge disappointment as I extended my left arm to cushion the fall, was that there was one small flat section of rock amongst the soft soil, and I managed to hit that rock hand first. That was the same hand that had almost completely healed from my previous plummet, the four large scabs were nearly dry and almost ready to fall off. And that they did, I only had four impact points and each was exactly where I had already opened up. There was no other cut, bruise or damage, all four scabs were ripped off and in each case, the blood began to pour freely. I couldn’t believe how everywhere else was untouched and to the millimetre, the earlier four impact points were flowing again.
After that fall I tried to be even more mindful when leaving in not repeating that cardinal error again. The protection rock was with me when we went down to Sydney to do a presentation and in a bag I carried back to the airport when we had finished. We had some time to spend at Sydney and rather than drag the 25 kilograms bag of many rocks and a few clothes through the streets, I decided to book the bag in at Central Railway Station and pick it up when catching the train to the airport. A good plan marred by one crucial oversight, I forgot to take the protection rock out. Five minutes later still at Central, I finished eating what had to be half of the worst vegetable pie ever baked on this planet, and walked towards the bin. It was a smooth passage, in a place frequented by tens of thousands each day, it had to be. It made no difference and I still have no idea why I fell, there was no stumble or raised surface, and once again I extended my left hand and ripped it open on impact.
Thankfully past that point that rock always accompanied me for every outing over the next six months. I did not fall again, but unfortunately, the next curse was well beyond the province of my protection rock or any other rock we had. This time around the curse was way too powerful for anything found on this planet, and this time around it would settle for nothing less than death, and there was absolutely nothing I or anyone else could do to do help.
A Flathead With an old Score to Settle
The curse initiated by the flat-headed skull has been discussed in some detail in earlier articles and was the most powerful I will ever experience, as it almost killed me on at least two occasions. What this less than pleasant experience did confirm and expand upon was that curses are not just a human construct, this negative energy is always here and is part of the esoteric fabric of the planet.
Outside lingering on death’s door for months on end, what I did find equally remarkable was that the sickness inflicted upon me by this skull was due to my betrayal of that being tens of thousands of years ago. Obviously, I looked nothing like I did so long ago and so much time had passed since that betrayal. Nevertheless, the span of so many years and my present dissimilar physical features were not a hindrance to the spirit that remained with the skull. It not only remembered what happened but was still aware of my spirit’s identity. Whether the curse was meant to take me to the brink, as some have suggested, or kill me outright is still unresolved, but what can never be questioned is that this skull cursed me.
50% Mordor, 50% Heaven on Earth
For both an ancient skull or scared rock to curse, is for us a very easy concept to accept. The planet reeks of magic and for those things that naturally come from the Earth to be endowed with some of that mystical energy is very easy for us to accept. Initially, what was a far less comfortable notion was that an ore could be placed inside a human-made furnace and melted through exceptionally intense heat then refashioned into a ring. The idea that the end product is even more magical and capable of influencing the entire planet was, to begin with, impossible to absorb.
Six months past this ring turning up there is no doubt remaining, it is all of that and much more. But just like the skull I have seen and suffered from both sides of this magical talisman. When the ring was stolen and used against us, all of the old wounds and ailments were opened up as the dark side of the ring tried it’s very best to kill both Evan and myself one Monday evening and Tuesday morning a few months ago.
We were pre-warmed by psychics and Elders of who was attacking us and when it would take place. In the hours before Evan spent considerable time smoking and placing salt everywhere. Ramindjeri Elders gave us mantras to invoke in defence and I spent hours putting together the most powerful defensive rock circle that could be mustered.
With all our defensive positions set into motion, Evan and I went to bed not really sure if it would happen, and if it did, was what we had constructed up to the task? The short answer is just. Evan went to bed clean and woke up in the morning with nine tics burrowing into his flesh. It was the middle of winter, which means the tics are dormant and if they were stirring Evan did not do any gardening nor did he wander through the bush. Even if he did there no tics active and no chance of finding them. The reason he was careful about any tic crawling on his skin is that he gets a severe allergic reaction when bitten by just one tic. Nine is a massive health issue, and even though all were removed many were already firmly attached. For the next few days he was in a wretched state. There is no doubt that the ring knew of his weakness to tic poison and it found a way to manifest these tics into his bed.
For me I was a much easier target, the skull had left so many scars and weaknesses from before to attack and during that night, one by one, each of my previous ailments was brought back. It was like a cameo, each organ would falter then be repaired. Then on to the next one. Even though we had the sacred rocks set into defence formation, and mantras given by the Ramindjeri to recite, on at least two occasions I actually felt this malevolent energy was too powerful to continue fighting.
Obviously, we both woke in the morning still breathing, but could we survive another onslaught? That was a legitimate concern, fortunately, a colleague went to the person directing this evil and reclaimed the ring two days later, and soon after it was returned to me. That of course, brought this curse to a close, but the residue effects of opening up old wounds have taken close on four months for me to recover from.
One Curse too Many
The next curse was briefly mentioned at the beginning of this chapter. It was given in response to Evan insisting that a level of decorum be maintained by an Elder who was insulting the lady with the cursed rock found under high voltage lines. His manner was too aggressive, and once challenged he turned on Evan cursing him.
When I came home Evan had already gone through a bout of chills and shaking and that night I experienced the same symptoms. At that stage, I was still unsure whether my mild attack was the sum total of what seemed a weak curse when comparing what had previously came our way. It was only on the second night when I forfeited a game of singles due to my fitness plummeting to levels comparable to more serious curses, did I realise we were travelling down the same pot-holed road.
I drove home after walking off the tennis court vowing to stop being passively reactive by taking a more proactive stance. The problem I had to grapple with was simply that I had no idea what my plan of attack was to be. It was only when I got home did the ‘penny drop.’
We sent a text message to the man responsible, and we decided to try reason and common sense as our first avenue of appeasement. Nothing came out of it, as this person was not in a good space and chided us for sending “excuses piled on excuses,” reiterating his intention to maintain the curse in stating that if either of us “touched on Aboriginal artefact” we would die.
My reply was both a stern warning and sarcastic affirmation. There was no point trying to reason or discuss as I reminded him I was the custodian of many sacred stones, and that some were killing stones, of which three were outstanding exponents of inflicting pain and death. I warned him I was about to set them into seek and reply mode and they would find him immediately. Of course, as I also pointed out, that would necessitate me touching not one, but three original artefacts. I continued further noting that if accepting his reckoning, upon touching the first rock I would fall and die. But if that did not happen, well that would mean our magic was more powerful and he was in deep trouble.
Within minutes of setting the three rocks in formation and requesting that they find our enemy in this conflict, we received a response begging that the rocks be restrained. The problem was that the message was so poorly structured and basically incomprehensible to any reader. Granted there was mention of turning off the curse, but elsewhere he warned us he would strengthen the curse so that we, and others unnamed, would die tomorrow. This each-way bet was unsatisfactory, so the three rocks kept operating and clarification was insisted upon.
Within a minute of sending our reply a totally conciliatory concession of defeat was clear in conceding that the curse was no more, as he begged us to stop. I did so within a minute as the last thing I wanted to do was cause harm to anyone, but he gave us no choice. Almost immediately after we sent our agreement a final reply, the last we have had from him, stated simply, “Great. Now leave me alone.”
And that we have done, the rocks were told to leave him alone, but with one all-encompassing proviso. I am utterly fed up being cursed and receiving death threats through email, as is Evan, and refuse to allow this insidious crude form of payback to continue. As such I am issuing a lethal warning, not just to this person now but for any in the future who may feel a need to sing, point a bone/stone or any other evil incantation directed to us. Don’t! It will bounce back, those three rocks are set on permanent guard duty and are ready, willing and able to strike back and they will take no prisoners.
What needs to be understood is that every future curse will bounce back and by the time anyone contacts us pleading to intervene, it will be too late. This time I asked them to moderate their initial attack, however, they are now set on full response and the next time around it will not be incremental steps, but immediate and deadly. The entire package is now in their hands, my control with these wilful rocks was always tenuous and I know they will not report back awaiting my instructions, they will strike first then tell me nothing. So even if I could intervene, they will do what they do best and it will be too late to moderate or negotiate.
This was done with a heavy heart and extreme reluctance, but what other choice do I have? These constant psychic attacks have taken a heavy toll on our health and we are exposed and weakened because of it, if either of us is cursed again it may well kill us, so it comes down to us or them. With the three rocks, the ancient skull and ring in support and a ‘line in the sand’ clearly marked out, it is time to realise using dark evil magic to harm us will rebound and return to the sender, what happens after that it is none of our business.