Now this is Rock and Roll

Quotes from two Volta compatriots offer a relevant lead-in:
“The things you speak to can shape your world. Look at Biggie. "Ready to Die". Dead. Word.”
— Saul Williams (again)
“This is the sound of what you dont know killing you. This is the sound of what you dont believe, still true. This is the sound of what you dont want, still in you.”
—El-P
And so, all that being said, here is The Story (and various annotations): Omar (lead singer) was in a curio shop in Jerusalem when he found the Soothsayer. It seemed to him an ideal gift for Cedric, this archaic Ouija-style “talking board.” So it was then and there, in a city where the air swims with religious fervor, in a shop that might as well have carried monkeys paws and Mogwais, that Omar changed the fate of The Mars Volta forever.
Had he known at that moment that the boards history stretched far beyond its novelty appearance, that its very fibers were soaked through with something terribly other, that the choral death and desire of a multi-headed Goliath was waiting behind its gates… well, he might have left it at rest there on the dusty shelves.
The Upside of That Choice: No bad mojo unleashed. Erase the madness that followed. Erase the bizarre connection to a love/lust/murder triangle that threatened to spill out into the present every time the band let its fingers drift over the board.
The Downside: No Soothsayer means The Bedlam in Goliath never would have existed. And it turns out that this demented spiritual black hole of a muse has driven The Mars Volta to produce a crowning moment in their already stellar career.
So if Omar hadnt given in to his curiosity and brought the Soothsayer home to Cedric then the band would probably have been happier, healthier, less haunted.
But you and I, Lucky Listener, we would have been robbed of one fucking amazing album.
More on that in a moment.
Back up to the last big tour. The Volta and the Red Hot Chili Peppers are tearing venues in half, retreating to their busses, rolling through the night. But instead of the normal Rock God routines the guys are sitting around Cedric‟s new Ouija board, which theyve dubbed the Soothsayer. And they love it— its the new post-show addiction.
The Soothsayer offers them names: Goliath, Mr. Mugs, Patience Worth, Tourniquet Man.
The Soothsayer offers them a story: Its always about a man, a woman, and her mother. About the lust floating between them. About seduction and infidelity. And
pain. And eventually, murder. Entrails and absence and curses and oblivion. Exactly the kind of spooky shit youd want from your Ouija.
Now here comes the rub.
The Soothsayer starts asking the band what they have to offer. This connection thats set up runs both ways, and the invisible voices begin to speak of their appetites.
They threaten oblivion and dissolution, or offer it as seduction. The voices merge as Goliath, a metaphysical quagmire and unfed saint whose hunger to return to the real world grows more urgent with each connection.
There are proper ways to close this union, but The Mars Volta have never been anything if not adventurous. They stay in contact— even taking phrases from the board and inserting them as song lyrics— but never offer themselves as surrogates. And so the starving Goliath extends its influence.
Inexplicable equipment issues abound while on tour.
Conflict with the existing drummer escalates and results in a change of guard. Ritual gives way to injury and Cedric is laid low by a randomly (and severely) gimped foot.
A completely reliable engineers mental composure cracks, pushing him from the project. The tracks he leaves behind are desperately tangled.
Omars music studio floods, threatening to send him right over the same precipice as the engineer.
Long-term album delays hit and people aren‟t sleeping well.
Nonsensical words and phrases the board had previously spoken begin to pop up in things like documentaries about mass suicide.
The Soothsayer keeps telling the same story but the details are becoming more brutal.
One day the label on the board peels back revealing pre-Aramaic lingo written across weird cone shapes.
Its bad mojo writ large, and things are crumbling quickly.
Worst of all, the board has shifted from pleas to demands.
To threats.
So they buried the fucking thing.
There are many ways to close a spiritual connection. Wear white for a whole year. Surround yourself with salt. Close a board and ask someone else to open it, thus transferring the ownership. Break the board into seven pieces and sprinkle it with holy water. Or bury it.
Omar wrapped the Soothsayer in cloth and found a proper place for it in the soil. Cedric asked that he never be made aware of its location.
And then their album found a new, more urgent purpose.
The Bedlam in Goliath is here to consecrate the grounds where the Soothsayer lies in wait. Its metaphor vs. metaphysics. Its story will be told to you and I, Lucky Listener, and were the ones re-opening the board. Taking on the ownership.
Perhaps if Goliath is spread between us all its hunger will dissipate. Or, as it threatened, it could become our epidemic.
So theres the story, up to today, but its not over. Because this thing is about to enter the hearts and minds of countless listeners.