Consistently Weird Experiences With Dice

How confidently should I claim to receive information—through twelve-sided dice, about what to practice—from some unknown, but distinctly benevolent, intelligence? The message is the message: e.g., here’s a subtle variation on what we gave you last time, in the precise key where you left off (given that you had somewhere to get to and didn’t make it through all twelve keys). But the fact of a message of this kind is also, surely, a message: the disenchanted, philosophical materialist picture of reality that scientism enforces (but science blithely undermines) is incorrect.

I don’t want to alienate people who think I’m “seeing patterns that aren’t there.” But the thing is, it’s not just that statistically unlikely stuff happens to me all the time, it’s… the flavor of it, the taste. Often it precedes the casting of the die. “It’s gonna happen again.”

It’s also possible, of course, that you know about this sort of thing—through a tradition, a religion, gnostically—and might have a much more definite view of what’s going on than I do. All I know is: I don’t know who it is, but, to me anyway, they seem friendly—mischievous, but nice.

In any case, whatever your predilections, I think you should try out some of the stuff I do with twelve-sided dice. At the very least, you’ll arbitrarily bump into some good practice material.

Let’s begin with my “pitch clock”: