I have an enormous number of CDs. But out of all of these, there is only one that holds strong meaning for me, and I own it by accident. I purchased a compilation box set that was utterly worthless. There wasn't a good song throughout the two main CDs. But the record company, in order to promote their other artists, included a "bonus disk".

I did not hold much hope for this disk after the other garbage on the two previous CDs. But there was something odd and terrible about this disk. Not terrible in the sense that I would not enjoy it, but terrible as if you were confronted with a monster of some sort. It had a power to it, this little piece of plastic. The disk was a silver pentacle on a black disk. There were no identifying marks of any kind. No title, no artist, no cover notes, and because it was a bonus disk that was randomly included, there was no mention of its existence. This can't be good.

The story begins with a song by a carnival barker, seemingly trying to get people into the tent for what must be a salacious show. It also promises things which cannot be delivered, but tells you, "Those customers concealing rational certainties must check them at the door and may retreive them from the cloak room staff upon their exit." It promises to put on display gods, as if they are to dance for our amusement. If the listener follows the barker's advice, he is granted an all-access pass into the bridge between science and religion, and yet, as with the carnival tent shows of old, you can look, but it all disappears when you leave.

The story leads us to London. Not just the physical London of here and now, but "Continent, nation, mapped outside of matter, state of mind. Metropolis erected out of nothing, only metaphor, and ringed with slums of dream." We watch as Princess Diana became trapped by the city, much as the Roman temple of Diana was rebuilt and thereby trapped by St. Paul's. Appropriately enough, St. Paul's was the same site where Princess Diana was married.

From here, it becomes more ethereal. We are walked through the "Stairs Beyond Substance." We emerge to find an angel, not of fluttery wings and harps, but a frightening guide that prepares us for what is to come. Afterwards, we come across a demon. There is a true sense terror at your very core listening to this, and there is a sense of dread that creeps up on you. After this, we see a deity. This is not the Christian god, but a long forgotten, no longer worshipped, fallen deity that people once believed in fiercely.

We are led from what he calls "The Spectre Garden" to the extremities of thought. Here the speaker discusses Heisenberg and Einstein's theories, not necessarily from a scientific perspective, but from a philosophical one. The ideas presented are too grand to ponder when put into such a beautiful manner of speaking, and if removed from that setting, only those with the best understanding of quantum physics would have a clue what was being said anyway. That is the beauty of this CD. It starts with simple history, moves to religion, and then encounters science and philosophy, and it makes it seem as though there is no doubt that all of these are related.

The title of the disk is the same as the title of the blog. "The Moon and Serpent Grand Egyptian Theatre of Marvels." I stumbled onto this by luck instead of accident this time. After three years of owning it, I decided to search for it using some lyrics that make up the title. And there it was! I found out not only the name, but a lot more information. There are three artists. David J. of the band Bauhaus, Tim Perkins, and the speaker, Alan Moore. Up until this point, I had not heard of Alan Moore. What an exciting world I was missing. Most people are familiar with Alan Moore because of the movies that were born from his books. He was the original mind behind From Hell, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Constantine, and the upcoming V for Vendetta. Despite thinking up the original ideas for all of these, he has supported none of them. It's no wonder. Nobody, and I mean nobody, can capture the Alan Moore essence that weaves them into fascinating tales. And without him, they become silly and trite. He is also known for his comics, which makes him seem like less of a force to be reckoned with than he really is.

This CD is much the same way. Without the music and overlapping voices, or without that particular speaker, something is lost. With it, it is as though your mind has been cleaved open to entertain new ideas. It gives you a reason to ask, "Why?"

I am not fooling myself. This CD is not for 99% of the people on this planet. Most wouldn't get it. The rest woudn't like it. For the others, it is life-altering.