BLACK TAR WRITHING.

The Blurbs.

A New Release from the Stained Fingers of Coelacanth Press.

COMING SOON:

Is it an occult history? A horror story? A sociopolitical field manual disguised as an autobahn travelogue?

Yes.

Black Tar Writhing begins where most spiritual histories end: at the side of the road, staring at the burn marks left by failed revolutions, discarded ideologies, and weaponized underclasses. With a wink toward Gary Lachman’s esoteric investigations and a firm grip on the rear bumper of Western collapse, Pheelskairyman invites us on a sticky, smoky ride through the potholes of modern meaning.

ADVANCE PRAISE & PAVEMENT WARNINGS

“First they tried to weaponize the slaves—and we got the barbarian invasions. The invaders set up their own hierarchies. Then they weaponized the peasants—and we got the Reign of Terror, leading to revolutions and wars with new bosses who were, of course, the same as the old bosses. But wait—we got fooled again, too.

When that didn’t pan out, they tried to weaponize the working class. But that fizzled, because nobody works that hard without a family, tradition, and the kind of values that get you up for a back-breaking shift in a mine or factory. That era brought us gulags, purges, and engineered famines.

Finally, they weaponized the underclasses—and this time, it worked.

Mr. Pheelskairyman traces the meme of equality—its breakdowns and ultimate, disastrous success—across the decline of Western civilization, from the Middle East to San Francisco. This book could have written itself, but instead the author delivers a work that’s both terrifying and strangely entertaining. A cross-genre effort, likely to be devoured by horror fans—who may soon find themselves needing a sequel analyzing their own psychology.

This may sound like a shameless plug for my new book, but hey—strike while the iron’s hot. It’s called

THE THERAPEUTIC STATE OF TERROR: Mental Hygiene and the Weaponization of Compassion

and it’s already been banned in five countries and one yoga studio.”

— Dr. Faye C. Schüß, Former C-of-C-C Newsletter Medical and Mental Hygiene Expert

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“Well, I came upon a child of God walking along that road Mr. Pheelskairyman chronicles. And this is what he scolded me:

‘We ain’t stardust, we ain’t golden, and we sure as hell ain’t equal. I’ve been online my whole life—I’ve seen and heard it all. I’m going back to the garden, where it smells better, and there ain’t no stinkin’ social justice—because that just ain’t natural.’

This book might just be the thing that wakes a whole generation—gets them out of the damp basement of their minds, where the meme of equality has parked them like moldy Christmas ornaments.”

— Jodi Mischtrel, Acclaimed Folk Singer turned Occulture Critic

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“Mr. Pheelskairyman does a bang-up job patching the potholes of the historical record. Like noxious steam rising from fresh asphalt, Black Tar Writhing lays it all out on the table. On the endless, monotonous highway to nowhere, this book is the billboard campaign we didn’t know we needed.

Japhy does what he always does—keeps us awake behind the wheel. His long string of books has become a kind of metaphysical Burma-Shave sign, calling out mile after mile after mile.”

— The Rootless Metropolitan, C-of-C-C Newsletter Travel Editor

EXCLUSIVE PREVIEW — CHAPTER ONE

THE DEVIL’S IN THE FOOTNOTES

(or, How We Got from the Akashic Records to TikTok in 666 Easy Steps)

Before we begin, a confession: I’ve read just about every book Gary Lachman has ever written.

Like many of you, I stumbled into the occult section of the bookstore not in search of spells, but explanations. And there he was: the former bassist of Blondie, now moonlighting as a cosmic cartographer, laying out maps of Western esotericism with a kind of bemused, scholarly glow. Where others saw dead mystics and indecipherable symbols, Gary saw connective tissue—between Swedenborg and Steiner, Blavatsky and Baudrillard, Jung and Joyce, Crowley and, if you squinted just right, Bowie.

I owe him more than I can repay.

But as any proper initiate knows: once you learn the secret doctrine, you’re obligated to take the piss out of it. Respectfully, of course.

This book is, in part, the grimy shadow cast by Lachman’s illuminated texts. Where Gary traced the golden thread of metaphysical longing across centuries, I’m here to yank at the frayed ends of that same thread—and maybe trip over them in the parking lot of a strip mall built on sacred ground.

See, while Lachman walks us through salons and séance rooms, I prefer alleyways and underpasses. While he introduces us to Rosicrucians and Anthroposophists, I’ve been interviewing the failed utopians of social media and the accidental cult leaders of Reddit. Gary follows the Logos; I follow what bubbles up through the asphalt when meaning collapses.

Take, for instance, his beautiful chapter in The Secret Teachers of the Western World on how ancient wisdom traditions were buried by Enlightenment rationalism and modern skepticism. He’s right, of course—but I think something else got buried too: discernment. Mystery was democratized, turned into an app, and sold back to us as “self-care with vibes.”

In this book, we’re not chasing light—we’re reading the burn marks. Not the astral plane, but the blacktop path that got us here. It’s less about the secret teachers and more about the students who stopped listening halfway through and started an ironic podcast instead.

What Gary calls the “re-enchantment of the world,” I see as something far stickier:

A reinvention of Hell—with better branding.

But again—this is not a rejection. It’s a riff.

Lachman is the symphony. This is the garage band cover, with feedback.

And if you hear something writhing beneath it all… good. That means you’re still listening.

Filed under: Coelacanth Press Releases, Occulture Detours, Esoteric Infrastructure Studies, and Paranormal Asphalt Realism