mystictapedeck

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The Mountebank is rolling into town this friday.

Loaded up with the cure for what ails you.

And of course, all the slug milk you can drink (judgment free zone.)

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“The Professor” From BARDS:Of The Shimmering Seraphs

ONLY TO KNOW WHAT THE PROFESSOR KNOWS

50 page book + 76 minute 12 song CD: $25

24bit 48khz digital download: $10 Available now via Bandcamp. https://mystictapedeck.bandcamp.com/album/bards-of-the-shimmering-seraphs-part-3

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“The Librarian” From BARDS:Of The Shimmering Seraphs

LET’S SHOW THESE MUGGLES HOW WE ROLL

50 page book + 76 minute 12 song CD: $25

24bit 48khz digital download: $10 Available now via Bandcamp. https://mystictapedeck.bandcamp.com/album/bards-of-the-shimmering-seraphs-part-3

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It's in the bottle. $25/10 Bandcamp https://mystictapedeck.bandcamp.com/album/bards-of-the-shimmering-seraphs-part-3

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"The Smith" From the third book in the BARDS series, "Of The Shimmering Seraphs."

Available now from Bandcamp

$25/$10

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The Mountebank

Stories such as these, they begin as we mention the breeze Or the sound of the wagon wheels turning against the rutted road The chickadee puffing its dark neck, chirping beak full of seeds A crows call, perhaps a warning - there was still a chill in the morning But the day gave way to quiet explosions of sunshine A coyote trotting along the adjacent hillside turns its pointed triangular head Only for a moment, then disappears over the distant dotted ridge And I should mention the breeze, or have I already? Wafting desert sage and sullen clumps of light clay earth A startled vole darts into its den A tempo of tired clopping hooves echoes Against the faded barnwood and pastoral pretentions A small white chapel perched upon a verdant mound Seems contrived, this peacefulness – what does it conceal within?

The driver, gaze fixed upon the bobbing equine head Pretending not to notice the pale and flowery bonnets And the skins of men ripened brown and leathery Suspicion glancing sidelong from beneath brimmed shadows Falling across faces weathered and concerned Heads turn to pause and spit as the wagon rolls past The bearded barkeep looks up from his mung sop and stained apron Pausing for a moment, then continuing with the circular wiping While the wagon passes the opening in the doorway, the sound still creeping in, reverberating And settles alongside the saloon sitting silent in the morning The slowing of long and steady hooved beats Transform from the heaviness of horses clipping clops To the softer, quicker beats of a man’s boots Across the hardened dirt and onto hollow planks of the bar stoop He leashes his steed to the corner most post And unfurls the brightly painted canvas placard Which sags against the side of the wagon Featuring an unblinking and radiant eye, Gazing steadily from the spiral shell of a strange snail Touting a cure-all medicinal tincture of worldly renown Which promises to youngen both body and mind Two pennies a vial, and a free nightly puppet show.

The puppet show recounts the journey of a brave explorer long ago, Who went a-plunging deep and fearless into dark and mysterious faraway lands With fragments of arcane, unfinished maps and fractured legends passed by wagging tongues An expedition into mountainous places and wellsprings ringed by mounds of violets Where the travelers pause to soak their worn and weary feet Carrying carefully moistened cloths which nestle and preserve An elusive snail plucked from between the shaded dew drenched rocks High upon mountain peaks shrouded in temperate morning mists A prize sought by many who had merely been looking in the wrong place Returning across wooded and grassy flatlands with poisonous insects and venomous snakes Regaled by tales of a baby minded king gone mad, become a vicious tyrant And the ensuing overturning of his tyranny and liberation from their bondage The mad king descending the wildly twisting stairwell of an infantile mind No longer able to rule, having alienated all of his supporters Who now betray him and bury him to his neck in a nest of stinging ants While down the mighty valley river floats the intrepid explorer, victory in his capture Of this, the rarest species of snail, oozing a most unique and precious lacteal slime, the prize of a lifetime spent scouring ancient dusty tomes and withering scrolls.

As the puppet show concludes, the onlookers sit aghast, stunned in wonderment. Yet there is no applause, only the growing chatter of voices as night after night the crowd disperses Returning to the cover and safety of their homes as the sun sets behind the faded purple hills. And when the darkness has fallen amid the hush of the evening, One by one they return to the wagon, two pennies in hand Slinking amongst the shadows, scarves and bonnets drawn The chirping of the crickets pausing as they pass Coins clicking as they tumble into the small and decorated chest And away they creep again, a tiny vial of milky liquid hidden in the folds and pockets of their weather worn garments

On worship day they come streaming into the little white chapel Where from the pulpit, an impassioned rebuke is delivered With accompanying condemnation, denouncement, and damnation A closed fist pounding at the lectern as the spittle scatters The listeners turn and glance tacitly, all guilty, unaware The secrets they all keep from each other quietly festering in them Bursting into a tempestuous and swirling zeal, with shouts of “amens” and “hallelujahs” Turning to calls for an intermediary, a proxy, an ambassador of virtue One to represent them all and wash them clean again To drive this devil, this diabolical dybbuk out from within their midst Aroused with the fervor of the devout doctrinaire, they stand and shout Each one of them more vociferous than the next, Suspicious glances melting into nods of agreement Each of them more theatrical, more indignant than the last A vote is cast, an emissary selected, reluctant but willing Another puppet show begins with a hand concealed, controlling But the hidden hand tickles a different puppet’s backside, now And thus, were they each absolved of their secret sin And plucked from the lake of fire at the very moment That their earthly flesh began to burn and blister

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An Introduction...

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 Art-Obsessed Cult Who Love Them. Some of our art is made on computers, some of it is made by hand. We are particularly interested in that gray area in between where you cant really tell. All of what we create here is one work laid out in segments, all connected. The Mystic Tape Deck universe is vast and explores all manner of adding meaning to our lives, while pondering meaninglessness.

Please consider supporting our project and helping us complete the work. We make books and cds that go with them. We also have a graphic novel and a custom oracle deck in the works. All part of the story.

Greetings to you: readers, beaders, seekers, wanderers, wonderers, outsiders, rebels, fantasy gamers, freaks, mythologists, philosophers, appreciators, creators, perpetuators of beauty, coveters of mysterious objects, collectors of counter culture, the curious, the questioners, the unusual, the unique, the star children, the light workers, shadow integrators, diviners, alchemists, hermits, monks and popes, the saviors and prophets, the builders and destroyers of worlds, the old ones, the young ones, the rollers of boulders, the sun orbiters, the morning star dewdrops and twinkle toed dreamers of dreams, you mystic shining beacons, you crossers and denizens of the void, reality shapers, universe makers and underworld freaks.

"A prominent feature of avant-garde music is to break through various rules and regulations of traditional culture, in order to transcend established creative principles and appreciation habits. Avant-garde music pursues novelty in musical form and style, insisting that art is above everything else; thus, it creates a transcendental and mysterious sound world. Hint, metaphor, symbol, association, imagery, synesthesia and perception are widely used in avant-garde music techniques to excavate the mystery of human heart and the flow of consciousness, so that many seemingly unrelated but essentially very important events interweave into multi-level structures and forms."

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Αrt by Gemma Gary

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The Serenade, Leonard Raven-hill ((British, 1867–1942)

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Queen of Snakes give me back my Husband, from The Snake Prince for Andrew Lang's The Olive Fairy Book by Henry Justice Ford (1907)

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"The Librarian" From the forthcoming third book in the BARDS series: "BARDS: Of The Shimmering Seraphs."

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Listen to "The Cynic" Opening track from forthcoming "BARDS: Of The Shimmering Seraphs" a 52 page book of lyrics, liner notes, poetry and artwork centered around the first 12 major arcana of a custom oracle deck.

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Book 3 in the series BARDS: Of The Shimmering Seraphs 12 song CD (each song represents a major arcana of a custom tarot deck we are making) 52 page illustrated book $25 via Bandcamp COMING SOON

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BOOK TWO in the series. BARDS: Of The Next Revolution 13 song CD + 50 page illustrated book. $25 via Bandcamp. Limited supply available. Get your copy before Book 3 hits the street.

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Book One in the series: BARDS: Of The Morning Star 16 song CD + 50 page illustrated book. $25 at Bandcamp. Limited copies remaining.

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WE ARE MORE From "BARDS: Of The Next Revolution" The second book in the bARDS series. 50 pages, illustrated, 12 song CD.