Mojo's Mix Book One - Shaman

By Dan Hoquist

The Bible tells how Man, in his arrogance, built the Tower of Babylon to equal God. In HIS anger, the Tower is destroyed and the languages of Man are confused as punishment.

NOW, Telepathy has been triggered with NO Off-switch! This causes an Apocalypse of Biblical proportion. A young DJ survives with the aid of an Autistic child and a Navajo Medicine Man. Is Mankind doomed to madness and extinction, or can he become the leader needed for this strange new future?!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dan Hoquist
• Release date: Nov 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215340943

Dan Hoquist

long-time Southern California resident, Journeyman Sheetmetal Worker, Amateur Archaeologist, Author and Researcher of hidden histories. After writing three non-fiction books, based on his discoveries, their connecdtions to ancient histories and cultures, Dan Hoquist marks this with with  his original perception of possibilities!

Book preview

CONTENTS

Preface

1. TURTLE

2. NEW NAMES

3. TURTLES IN PILLOWS

4. HOPES AND CHORES

5. LAY OF THE LAND

6. VIBES

7. TRIP TO TOWN

8. ABO'S WOKE

9. FAMILY FOUND

10. HUBBEL'S HOGAN

11. SURVIVORS!

12. MOJO'S QUEST

Glossery

Preface

The term; SHAMAN, is not used around the world, but has become a general descriptive of a worldwide phenomena of highly intuitive people, who have served as teachers, healers and guides throughout human history.

The word; SHAMAN, is derived from the indigenous peoples around Northern China and Mongolia. SAMAN, is the root of the word, meaning, One Who Knows, which describes them as Spiritual Guides.

These names differ from culture to culture, whether indigenous or technological societies. Medicine men and women, is the verbige translated from most of the indigenous peoples of both, North and South, Americas, although each Tribal language use differing names. The European cultures seem to compartmentalize and separate their guides, using terms such as; Doctor, Professor, Preacher and Judge, wheras indigenous cultures generally combine these social functions, with the exception of a Chieftan, who serves as their judge.

Even as some guides appear very different from culture to culture, their real commonality is they all use Stories and the art of storytelling, to keep and teach, in their cultures. In Courts of Law, stories are meticulously kept, so they can be used again and again in the enforcement of their differing social mores, or morality.

Just as cultures are built, one upon the other, so their stories have been plagiarised and are the cause of false histories, when heroic names, dates or areas are altered to reflect differing traditions. An obvious example being the Biblical story of Noah having its very roots in the Sumerian, Epic Of Gilgamesh, written in cunieform several thousands of years before the Hebrew version appeared in paleo-hebrew, itself being a varient of phoenician alphabet. But, the story of a worldwide flood has existed, though altered, because differing Shaman all saw the value of the history, so the story has persisted.

I have been blessed with personal experience of meeting many Medicine Men and Women, of different Tribes of the Americas. I was adopted by a Blackfoot Medicine Woman as a troubled teen and given a name, Redbird, a second family and became a Bloodbrother. I've had the honor of dancing at Pow Wow, which is a festive gathering of Tribes to share knowledge and traditions. I have participated in Prayer and Sacrament, and have witnessed things that can only be described as amazing, even paranormal.

According to a worldwide consensus of these intuitive individuals, we live in a physical reality that we can see, but, we walk through invisible reality simultaneously. These Shaman have told this same story throughout Human history, while the visible spectrum has only recently been known to be only a very small portion of the universe we can see.

If we could see further into ultraviolet and infrared radiations, would we encoulnter beings otherwise unseen? Shaman seem to agree that there are energies or spirits, both negative and positive (some which appear uncaring), that sometimes affect our physical reality.

The mathematics of Quantum Physics and String Theories seem to say we live in realities that are layered in multidimensionality of parallel and co-existing realities! Even all possible paths to our futures, may then become fractal probabilities when a conscious choice is made. I know this is pretty confusing, in summary, we may be writing our own future stories by conscious choice!

We live in a present time of self-serving technology that may be fed by negative energies, but also showing a bright light at its horizon that could be a true golden age for humanity. Our conscious, collective choice could replace the would-be masters, for even-handed management and end all human suffering, at this very moment!

Technologies can and will fail, Shaman will always be needed, their stories and traditions will guide us to our future!

1. TURTLE

My head hurt, bad! At least, it wasn't screaming , like it was...was it last night?! I realized I had no idea of time, date, or even where the Hell I was!

I tasted sand when I tried to lick my lips and my tongue felt like a big piece of leather, in my mouth. It was swollen big time, I must've bitten it...a bunch, dammit! Guess MX Mo wouldn't be droppin' the Mic for a while! I started to smile but it hurt, too! Dammit!

Tried to move,...something, finally felt my arm respond, just by inches, but, dammit, I accomif plished! It's when I knew I was still alive, just like my Dad said everyday before work; it hurts, I know I'm alive...yup! I sure knew I was alive!

I remembered that my Dad had died in a scaffold collapse, a year ago ...and I hurt, even more! Dammit! Pins and needles were starting so I knew I hadn't moved much, since I face-planted, apparently, with a bit of force, because I felt like I was in a couple inches of sand and dirt, like a body-wrapped crater.

I remembered some National Geographic show about Sea Turtles digging themselves down, with their flippers and kind of heard myself croak when I chuckled the thought. I must've done it with my ears, I pictured myself in action!

>hee-hee<

Thought I heard something! Must've cracked my head when I got,...here?!  Just where the Hell was I?!

So, I started trying to piece things back: I remembered pain,...and about people screaming! Then I remembered, I was screaming a lot, too!

But, it was more than noise,...I felt,...I mean I really felt! I remembered, things that weren't ME, like memories and faces I never made, or saw,...EVER! I remembered there were people in the streets, lots were running, but there were just as many standing and sitting that were tearing at their own hair, all screaming,...and there were more folks, all around, laying in pools of blood.

I must've been one of the runners. Don't remember when I started, or stopped running, but I remembered driving,...and screaming,...SO much pain! Guess I was lucky, not to have killed myself or anyone else,...I hoped-to-God.

I remembered the fear...overwhelming...only word that fit! You’d think a kid from the heart of Eastside Los Angeles would be a little tougher, but I wasn't athletic, didn't like to fight, so I took-up Music. Not the play of all the tools of Music, namely, instruments, but, I knew what songs go with each other, their moods and beats. Mixer Mojo, or just MX, I was getting known in the Hood; played a couple of bangin' parties, even a Wedding for a friend,...all gone,...I knew!

I felt it, the moment Mom died, early, in the scream. Not that I knew how she died, but, I felt the moment her pain ended. Remembering now, I started crying, didn't have enough moisture in my body for tears though, I guess,  just made the memory real.  Then I remembered I felt so many, the longest, loudest pain, I could ever dream of,...a  white-noise scream!

The grief I now felt was just as bad,...at least the scream had stopped.,..I prayed!

>bzzz<  

After awhile, I stopped the shakes and started trying to collect the pieces of my memory and ignore the tickle I felt, in my brain.  More importantly, I needed to find a way to cherish my Mom's memory and the time I was fortunate enough to share, as her only kid.

Mom was a hardcore Bible thumper, so I figured she was safely taken, to the bosom of her Savior. Matter of fact, I thought, bet they rolled-out the red-carpet, to lead her through the Pearly gates, with all the Angels in Heaven to Trumpet her arrival!

Love you Mom, I thought, lump in my throat, swallowed hard.

>bzzz<

I remembered her working so hard, sometimes two jobs, after Dad died. Waitress, mop-wringer, burger-flipper, didn't matter, she worked with a smile and a fervor, all were gifts from God, to her. Most of all, she worked on me; if I missed school, she knew... and I never missed Church, by God! Nobody wanted to face her disappointment, ever! When they made the phrase, Strong Black Woman, the definition had a picture of her, beside it!

She used to tell me that she named me Moses 'cause it was my future to be a great leader. But, Daddy Johnson said I was named after his basketball hero GOATs. I knew he probably pulled a fast one on Mom, when I came out, as my initials, 'MJ', were still famous, even after he was long gone, from the  Game. I called myself, Mojo, and much to Dad's disappointment, I just never had the skills, or the calling, to drive myself like my athletic friends.

I did have the Beat tho, the magic that was Music drove me, soothed and boiled my blood. Fortunately, Dad, loved his Jazz, almost as much as he loved Mom and it made