by D.J. Lawrence on 2006-08-28 09:59:28
tags: chaos magic, dj lawrence

I woke up tired and groggy, slamming the snooze button and knocking my alarm clock off the coffee table. I came home the night before (or rather late the same morning), having had a rough, but enjoyable night at a fetish club I often frequent in Tokyo. I felt a bit under the weather the night before, but went to the club any way because the Chaosmagic.Com World Meating 2004 was coming up and I wanted to promote it at the fetish club by handing out fliers. I wore my latex SS officer’s uniform with a red chaostar on the armband instead of a swastika.

The club was busy as usual, people crammed in wall to wall. Pretty much anywhere in Tokyo is crowded, but without there being many fetish clubs around this club was always particularly crowded. It was one of the few places where people of a different bent could go and just be themselves. There were lots of people dressed in their finest fetish wear. I like fetish clubs in Japan a lot. I find them to be a lot more diverse than “back home.” The “scene” isn’t as segregated in Japan as much as in other countries I have been to. What would normally be separate and completely different scenes back home are all melted and moulded together here. S & M, drag queens, anime otaku cosplay, exhibitionalism and more – all mixed together. I find it beautiful that all of them – us – can be united together in being “ecchi” (erotic).The club always has various shows on the stage. That night they had several Japanese drag queens doing lip sync to kitsch show tunes, some S & M, a skat show, female wrestling (yawn), and one nullo doing some really heavy body mutilation on stage. I enjoyed myself after doing my rounds making sure that everybody had a flier for the Chaosmagic.Com World Meating.

I left with a pair of girls – a busty raver chick who was loud, bubbly and into exhibitionalism, and a petite shy girl who was into costume play. I spent a couple of hours with them at a Love Hotel (hotels in Japan that are rented by the hour and are intended just for quick encounters, usually with each room having a theme). I left them at the hotel and made my way home by myself – thoroughly tired and exhausted, I had work the next day and shouldn’t have been out so late, but I didn’t really care either. I felt a bit of pain in my left testicle after the rough sex, but didn’t think too much of it at the time. I arrived home and collapsed on my cheesy zebra striped pimp love sofa – not even having the energy to go to my bedroom and pull out my futon.

I woke up at 6am to my alarm clock. And the pain in my left testicle from the night before was now a quite painful throbbing sensation. But still, I got dressed and ready for work. It was really painful, but calling in sick due to ball pain is not something I really considered. So I just got ready and walked to the school that I was teaching at that time. The throbbing sensation grew as I walked.

By the time I got to the school the throbbing pain was a roaring thunder. My face was very flushed and the other teachers could immediately tell that something was wrong. In typical polite Japanese style, one kindly old teacher ran over and wheeled a chair up to me so I could sit down. They asked me what was wrong. I wasn’t about to say that I was feeling heavy pain from my left nut, so I lied and said that I was experiencing extreme stomach pains.

They told me that I was in no condition to teach and that they’d call a clinic and drive me there. They insisted that the head English teacher drive me and help explain things and translate at the clinic. Great… I thought. Not Exactly something I wanted. I insisted that I could get along fine on my own and that I wouldn’t need a translator at all. My Japanese was more than adequate enough to explain things to a doctor. All I needed was the drive to the clinic. But Japanese people like being helpful and fighting deep set cultural ideas is an uphill battle so eventually I relented and admitted defeat. I left for the clinic with the head English teacher.

We arrived at the clinic and the pain was continuing to increase. It was excruciating. It was the same feeling of pain of getting kicked in the nuts . only instead of being a quick flash of pain, it was prolonged over hours and just continuing to increase. I could barely think. Concentrating was extremely difficult. At this point I just plopped down on the couch in the waiting room, with my legs spread apart as far as they could go, with my left leg draped over the back of the sofa. The feeling of my underwear touching my testicle was agonizing. I couldn’t bear the pain. My field of vision changed. I saw everything as tinted. A filter of red over top everything in my view. I felt out of control of my mind and body.

I was moaning pretty loudly at that point. The nurse ignored the other people waiting and rushed me ahead to see the Doctor. The head English teacher followed me into the doctor’s office. I heard the head English teacher explain in Japanese that I had a really bad stomach pain.

“Actually no I don’t.” I interrupted.


“It’s not my stomach.”

“Where is it?”

”…my testicles.”

“Where is that?”

“My test-i-cles.”


“My balls.”


“Here!” I said in frustration, pointing to my testicles and grabbing them, causing a cascading wave of pain to wash over my body.

“Oh… I see…” said the head English teacher.

“Oh… I see…” said the doctor, adding in his professional two cents.

I pulled off my pants. My left testicle was swollen to the size of a mandarin.

I’m not normally shy about being naked around other people and have been nude in public situations numerous times. This time Though I felt awkward.

The doctor poked my left testicle a few times, resulting in me screaming each time. The doctor, after abusing my testicle for a couple of minutes, said that there was nothing he could do and that I’d have to go to the hospital and see a urologist.

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” I asked.

“I’m sorry but this isn’t in my field of expertise.” He replied.

“I don’t care about that, ” I said, “I just want drugs. Give me something, anything to make the pain go away. Now!”

“I see,” said the doctor in an unsettled tone.

Confrontation is extremely rare in Japan, and a Japanese person would never have spoken to the doctor in the way that I did. Confrontation confuses and unsettles them and they are always unsure of how to deal with such confrontation.

The doctor gave a capsule of something or another. Anally, and wasn’t particularly gentle about putting it inside me. I didn’t care. Wasn’t the first time for me to have something inserted into my anus.

It kicked in pretty quickly. The pain was still there . all of it, but my mind felt dissociated away from the pain. It wasn’t local. It was somewhere else . a little distance away. Close enough to still hurt like hell, but far enough away to not be incapacitating.

We arrived at the hospital and I was taken to the urologist. He ran an ultrasound test on my testicles to see what was happening inside. His diagnosis was that I had testicular torsion. That’s when a testicle twists cutting off the blood flow to it. Apparently some men are born without the tiny fibres inside the scrotum that prevent the testicles from spinning around. And I was unlucky enough to win the “freely spinning testicles” lottery. During the rough sex the night before my left testicle had twisted, cutting off the blood flow, causing the swelling and pain.

The doctor told me that I’d need surgery immediately. No details, just that I needed surgery immediately. My mind raced and panicked – my first thought being that he meant to cut off my balls. But fortunately it wasn’t going to be as drastic as that. He would cut open my scrotum, and untwist the left testicle, letting the blood flow return to normal. Then he would attach the testicle to the scrotum, so that the testicle would no longer be able to spin around freely – ensuring this wouldn’t happen again. He did warn me though that he had no idea just how long my testicle had been without blood, and needing to remove it was a possibility.

They prepared me for surgery. A not particularly gentle nurse tried to shave my balls, the pressure against my left testicle was agonizing, and not to mention that she was just too rough with the electric clippers, and was snagging the wrinklie scrotum skin with them. Another nurse finally just told her to stop and that it wouldn’t be necessary. They gave me an enema as well, since I wouldn’t have control over my bowels during the surgery. They didn’t want me shitting on my balls. Apparently they gave me an epidermal . I’ve been told that normally getting an epidermal is painful at first, since the needle goes directly into the spine. I never even noticed them give it to me. Several days later I was able to see the mark where it had been inserted on my back, but I really have no idea when they injected me – my mind really was all over the place.

I did feel the effects of it though. My entire body from the neck down was paralysed. I couldn’t feel anything at all. I felt very sleepy, but I struggled to remain awake and conscious. I was interested in and curious about the surgery, and wanted to be conscious while they did it. I requested to have a video camera in the operating room, but they didn’t have one ready that they could set up. So the doctor offered to take some Polaroids for me instead. That may sound strange, but I wanted to experience and understand the surgery.

The effects of the epidermal were kicking in strongly. I felt even more disassociated than before. My mind and body were two completely isolate and separate things. The pain was completely gone. I thought at the time that this would be a good opportunity for working with the Black Ray – Death Magick. The drugs already had me in a deep state of Gnosis, a very deathlike state, so may as well take advantage of the situation.

My internal body clock had slowed down a lot. My mind felt separate from my body, as if I were floating a metre or so above the operating table. I could see my body beneath me – covered in a blanket, except for my bag which was exposed and had gauze beneath and around it.

Although my thought process was far from lucid, concentrating was at least easier than earlier when the pain was consuming my thoughts. I quickly visualized the Gnostic Pentagram ritual from Liber Kaos, doing the actions and sounds for the ritual only in my head, since actually vibrating the sounds would have probably resulted in receiving a visit from a head doctor later on.

I finished the banishing shortly before the doctor and his assistants finished their preparation for the surgery. I watched the doctor make an incision in the scrotum. I, of course, felt nothing as he made the incision. The doctor pulled the damaged testicle outside of my body and placed it on some gauze. He then asked a nurse to take a picture of it. He then held the picture in front of my face, and I watched as the picture faded in on the Polaroid. The doctor pointed out the inflamation of the testicle and spermatic cord and the lack of blood in the testicle, quite apparent from its colour. It had fully twisted around twice – 720 degrees. It should have been scary stuff to see, but actually I was pleased that the photo closely matched what I saw remotely. The feeling out of body experience was beginning to fade at that point. I still felt strongly disconnected from my physical body, and could see things from a little above my body, but that feeling was fading.

The doctor left the Polaroid near my head and went back to the surgery. I visualized the damaged testicle, and visualized the illness as a demon, bearing the speckled brownish purple colour of the damaged testicle, and having a twisted form. I gave the demon a name – the first thing that came to mind, which was “Chronack.” I visualized reaching down with my mind and wrapped my hand around the body of the demon and lifting it up and out of my testicle.

Wanting to make the most out of the situation, I decided to attach some of my negative qualities to the demon as well. All of us have a desire for failure. It is a major reason for becoming a Magickian, to be able to bypass this masochistic desire that humans have to fail. We love to moan about our failures. It’s the single most easy way to get attention from other people. “Oh my girlfriend left me.” “Oh, I lost my job, what will I do.” And we wait to hear the comforting “There. There. You’ll be okay.” Because it feels good. We often sabotage our own success just so we can hear those pretty words and feel good about the attention we receive for our failures. It’s sick, but it’s part of the human condition. Sigils are a great way for bypassing this condition – but there is also no reason why we can’t mount a full on frontal attack on this masochistic desire as well. Bypassing the desire to fail is good, but murdering it is better.

So I visualized a sobbing boy crying for his mother, and attached that to the testicular torsion demon. I also attached my tendency toward acting passive aggressive to the demon – a trait I picked up from my mother. It has lessened a lot over the years, but was still present in me, and wasn’t something I liked very much. For this I visualized I again visualized a little boy (for it is definitely childish behaviour) standing arrogantly with an “I’m here right in front of you, around you, in your face, but I won’t talk to you” look about him. I attached to this to the demon as well, ending up with a twisted hunchback child with purplish brown skin sobbing but quiet and in your face without actually doing anything.

Attaching my negative qualities, the testicular torsion demon served two purposes. Not only would I be able to lessen or remove these negative qualities in myself, but it also served to make the demon weaker, to make it into a lowly creature more easily defeated.

I visualized myself standing in front of the demon, with it standing close to me, invading my personal space, but silent.

“Fuck you! Fuck your weakness! Fuck your desire to fail! Fuck your passive aggression! Fuck your ignoring me! Fuck your in your face attitude!” I screamed at the demon.

“Fuck you!” I screamed again while striking the demon.

And again. “Fuck you!”

And again. Faster and faster I screamed at the demon while striking it . whipping myself into a frenzy.

While I was doing this, the doctor told me he was untwisting the testicle. And I continued to punch the demon.

It began to back away from me. Its facial expression began to change, the passive aggressive side was dropping, and its aggressive side was emerging – the will to survive prevailing over the passive aggressive tendencies. The sobs mutated into snarls, and the tears into frothing drool. It hissed and spat at me. My body and mind were his right it thought, and now it was willing to fight to keep what it had inhabited.

I screamed louder and louder at it – my fuck you’s becoming less and coherent, and more and more into bellowing screams of rage. It scratched and clawed at me – fingers transforming into tentacular claws, sharp but prehensile.

I made no attempts to block its attacks but instead continued to pummel away at the beast. I would not lose to this bastard. My body would not be its temple of filth.

I hit it hard enough to knock it backwards and then I leapt on top of the cunt. Sitting on its chest, I punched away at its face, screaming and hissing at it. I slammed my hand against its jaw and forced its head upwards. I bit into its neck snapping at its tendons and tissue with my teeth. I took my other arm and thrust it into its anus, fisting the bitch and making it mine. I grabbed at its entrails and pulled them out with my hand. I then bit at its chest and slipped both of my hands into the gash that I had made. With a quick jerk I pulled its torso open – exposing its heart and other organs. I grabbed the beating heart and pulled it of its chest. I held the still beating heart high in the air and screamed my Magickal name again and again.

It seemed like a lot of time had passed since the surgery had started. I did not know how much time though. The epidermal had really messed up my sense of time. The vision of myself and the demon above the operating table faded. I was “back in my body.” I felt very tired – from the Magick and the drugs. I decided just to wait and rest until the doctor stitched me up and finished the surgery.

The doctor told the nurse to take another picture, and he walked over to my head again with a second Polaroid. After the Polaroid had faded in, I could see that the swelling had gone down – particularly in the spermatic cord. The testicle was now a dark red, and was beginning to heal.

I was relieved to know that the surgery was going well. The blood had been cut off long enough from my testicle that losing it was a possibility. I wasn’t worried about that before the surgery – my only thought was for the pain to stop.

The doctor waited a bit longer to ensure that everything was okay with the testicle, then he began the final part of the surgery – attaching my testicle to my scrotum so that it would no longer be able to move about freely, then stitching up my scrotum. I visualized the Gnostic Pentagram ritual again as he did this.

Finally, the doctor finished doing the stitches and told me that he was finished and that they’d take me to my room and I could rest for a few days. I asked him if I was still a man. He laughed and said, “yes, you are still a man.” I laughed as well – banish with laughter.

I actually enjoyed the next few days in the hospital, was nice to not have to worry about work for a few days, and just be able to meditate, read and play video games on my Gameboy. My girlfriend at the time – Aiko – visited me frequently, and brought me decent food from outside. Having cute Japanese nurses tend to me and examining my genitalia to make sure everything was okay was enjoyable as well.

I felt different after the surgery though, especially after the epidermal wore off completely and I was able to move and walk again. I can really “feel” and notice my left testicle now. I had spent the first twenty-eight years of my life having neither testicle being attached to my scrotum and having them move around freely. Now, my left testicle is permanently attached to the left side of my scrotum, and can barely move at all. The place where the doctor attached the testicle to the scrotum is actually higher up than where it usually hung. The feeling of it hanging higher than previously was very pronounced even many months after the surgery. It was strange but actually I could still feel the original position of the testicle. I’ve read a lot about phantom limbs – when people still feel the presence of a limb, even after it has been amputated, and this was much like that. I could still feel the presence of my testicle in its “normal” position, even though it was now higher up and attached to the left side of my scrotum. Yet simultaneously I could also feel the new position of the testicle. It was a very unusual feeling. We rarely think about our body parts, and usually don’t pay much attention to them unless we’re ill or in pain. But for many months, I was always aware of the presence of my testicle, and could feel it.

Now, two years later, the “phantom testicle” feeling is gone. But I’m still more aware of the presence of my testicles, particularly the feeling of the asymmetry of having one testicle attached to the scrotum, while the other hangs freely. I’m a lot less sensitive to pain now too, since the pain I felt from the testicular torsion was magnitudes greater than any other pain I’ve felt before. It may be a rather minor modification to my body, and a completely involuntary one, but nonetheless it was an interesting experience, and in a perverse way I’m glad it happened. There can be Magick even in the mundane (and sometimes painful) things that life in her chaotic ways throws at us.

[Editor’s Note: This excerpt comes from D.J. Lawrence’s submission to the Body Modification Grimoire set to be released by the Temple ov Psychic Youth. He has been gracious enough to donate it to Key 23.]

Dead Jellyfish a.k.a. D.J. Lawrence has been practicing Magick for 13 years and Chaos Magick for 8 years. He has a degree in Religious Studies (specializing in Japanese Buddhism) and is the author of Cthuloid Dreams and editor of the Chaos Cookbook and Konton Magazine. He has given lectures on the Occult, Chaos Magick and Religion in Toronto, Montreal, New York, and Tokyo.

D.J. Lawrence created 5 years ago out of a desire to help bring Chaos Magickians together, to share ideas, and to have fun. It’s been a great ride for the last five years, and he looks forward to the future, meating more new people, and continuing to push the envelope.