The following ritual is designed to access the death current through technological means, granting event the most psychically underdeveloped magus a method of feeling the presence of those who have gone beyond the Veil.
It slots neatly within the classic technopagan paradigm, as well as shading into postmodern necromantic practice as well.
All that is required is a strong desire to make that connection as well as a few technological trinkets, easily available audio recordings and the social media account of the person to be contacted.
Of course this only works with the dead, so an online memorial page is the best choice.
The NecroTech operation was born out respect for the pioneering work of George W. Meek and Bill O'Neil, the creators of the Spiricom.
This was an audio device that supposedly allowed communication between that small team of researchers and the deceased, spirits who themselves helped to perfect the design as time went on.
Tapes of these conversations were presented at the National Press Club in Washington D.C. on April 6th 1982 to little public interest.
Though part of a broader trend within parapsychological research at the time, the Spiricom, as well as the related Vidicom created by Klaus Schreiber, were outliers in the Instrumental Transcommunication field.
As is to be expected their results have been both dismissed and defended over the years in equal measure.
Far from worrying about the authenticity of the Spiricom, it is the kind of audio originally captured during those experiments which we are interested in.
And yes, any example of Electronic Voice Phenomenon will do, no matter how seemingly fake.
At the most basic level, the bizarre tonal screeching that makes up those voices from beyond is unsettling, though when taken as a sort of digital ritual chant and overlaid over itself using a number of recordings played at once the effect on the consciousness of the magickian is undeniable.
As such, it makes a fantastic addition to any necromantic ritual, especially those that have a technological aspect to them as well.
But the mechanical bleed-through into the heart of the ritual does not stop with simple sound files.
In his pioneering essay on digital culture, Technopagans: May the Astral Plane be Reborn in Cyberspace, Erik Davis intimated that silicon, plastic, wire and glass had replaced the classic elements of earth, water, fire and air in the current era.
And having used such materials as substitutes for those in my magickal practice I can confirm that they work just as well, if not better, than the original.
Add in WiFi to represent the ever present but impossible to define element of spirit, and all five witchcraft staples are reinvented through a modern day lens.
When the four placed on the corresponding points of the compass surrounding a computer screen displaying the online social media memorial for a given person, they help not only channel the elements into the ritual space but also ground the attention of the magickian towards the ultimate goal of feeling the presence of the deceased as well.
The PC or laptop screen should be the only illumination in the darkened ritual chamber, and even candles should be discarded for this operation. Blinking or static LED's on the computer equipment should also be covered with tape until it is done too.
The audio files are looped over the top of each other while the magickian sits in a comfortable chair and stares at the social media memorial for their target, blinking as little as possible.
Their name is chanted slowly and deliberately, syllable by syllable until it loses all meaning other than to add to the noise.
The PC must be set to hibernate after thirty minutes, suddenly removing the object of concentration from the vision of the magickian, as well as the audio that was assisting in their focus as well.
Upon going dark the chant is also ceased and the ritual chamber should then feel large and hollow, regardless of its actual size.
Blinking can now resume normally, though there will be almost nothing to actually see.
At this point the unsettling feeling that there is someone else in the room, standing just behind the chair, should arise.
As long as the the magickian stays perfectly quiet and does not move to look the presence will remain for at least a few minutes before dissipating of its own accord.
Unfortunately this ritual does not allow for full blown communication between the living and the dead, simply the ability to feel their presence.
Actual interaction would be far more complex to arrange.
There is little danger that the traveler would decide to stay, and it is unlikely that anything else would be allowed access to the ritual chamber instead due to the extreme focus displayed throughout the thirty minute chant that leads up to the appearance of the spirit.
Such single mindedness is difficult to hijack by outside forces, so the operation should be relatively safe to perform.
Of course there is every possibility that the magickian is just the willing participant in a hypnagogic hallucination, creating the illusion of presence themselves as a result of the rhythmic nature of the chant.
Even knowing this the experience remains a compelling one for those who have tried it, and ultimately that is the point.
Much of what we do as voyagers on the frontiers of reality is highly subjective, lacking a definitive framework.
Yet the journey remains more important than the destination, and the reason why we keep coming back again and again.