A Burning Ring of Fire [VI]

For those wondering if/when they’d ever see the next part of this series, well (a) your question has been answered, and (b) no, the shenanigans of the servants of Dis [part v] have failed to dissuade me from the task of building the ark.

I did manage to get caught up with Whore Box Orifice’s True Blood program, and am forced to wonder, in my Trumanesque world, if they know I am [watching]. What in the Sam[antha] Hell? Should I [want to burn]? No! At least, I don’t think so.

The scene above is when an old vampire commits suicide, by meeting the rising sun. His response is to the girl/woman who asked him if he’s “afraid of the pain?” Some song, now beats inside my juke box, chiming “what you read, what you watch, what you listen to.” Oh, I remember what song that is … Mojo Nixon’s appropriately entitled “Burn Down the Malls.” {*1}

Is there revelation or mind-fucking in progress? If you’ll recall, at one point, we were highly focused on Nick “the fireman” Cage and that movie, Burning, er, I mean Knowing. Looking back, I find it quite significant his son/sun, the “rebel” who rejected his licentious Father’s “love” offerings, and the one who chose to elevate himself though diet, lives in a room at the apex of the pyramid, with an eye for a window to look out of [from where he has his vision of the “forest burning” and “animals panicking,” syncing us back to the Dark kNight and close of part ii].

A long time ago, while looking into I Am Legend, a movie that in retrospect, describes my present predicament a little too well, I surmised that I was the eYe at the top of the pyramid [a look into the Octopus’s Eye/I album still on hold]. In other words, that the “planners and schemers” [as quoth the Raven/Joker] have no influence, just confluence over me.

I expressed disappointment/disgust that the movie was yet another concerted effort at programming self-sacrifice as a solution [you can be assured this theme is meant for “us,” as “they” would never be stupid enough to sacrifice themselves]. I’ve since had many, including a mentor, and a Freemason of alleged significant degree [i.e., 32nd], tell me that I am wrong. Why? Ultimately, am I not the eYe at the top of the pyramid, because I, by exercising my free will determine my fate.

Now, I’m not denying the influence of other beings upon my life. I know I’ve been protected by benevolent entities, I have communed with my spirit guide directly, and doubtlessly, I am being led and nudged by all sorts of forces beyond my understanding. For example, why am I building this damn ark?

Hence, my quandary. What are these movies doing? It’s obvious, to anyone with even a smidgen of common sense left in them, that the main purpose of the Wizards of Id is to program, stupefy, and degenerate the masses. Understanding social engineering, I have to concede they [those in the know, and the clueless repeaters] have done their job too well. Yet, beyond synchronicity, it’s undeniable, that some things are put in so precisely and specifically [such as the above], they are undoubtedly meant convey something, be it malice or enlightenment…

While I may, or may not, have been “right,” the pyramid, like many other symbols of note, is subject to multiple layers of interpretation [I provided another in part v of this series]. Ultimately, does it matter? Should I not concede the point, not at all, yet should I doubt myself, considerably. So, is the fire inevitable? I don’t have that answer … yet.

“Death is the doorway to awe,” inFORMs us yet another movie of dualistic intent (The Fountain). Yea, but as I’ve been saying, if you’ve devoted your life to the pursuit of ignorance, once you shed this mortal coil, should you seek “freedom,” you will encounter the barrier that won’t let your soul pass [the grid], and be left with little choice but to either stay disembodied, or [re]incarnate. Does anyone reading this honestly believe, that the degenerated future will afford one anything other than more ignorance, guaranteeing endless repetition of “the loop?”

Yet, again I’m presented with a dilemma as to the intent of the wizards, for in this same vehicle of dubious “enlightenment,” starring an “X-man,” we are presented with that “X-box” at a moment that spells wisdom, for those with [or should I say without] eyes to see. Hugh Jackmanass rushes from the hospital, where his wife lay dying, so that he can go run his tests on his lab animals, and find a “cure” for her cancer. The ignorant fuck has obviously never read Pythagoras, Tolstoy or Wagner:

“Any person who had to endure certain experiments carried out on animals which perish slowly in the laboratories would regard death by burning at the stake as a happy deliverance. Like everyone else in my profession, I used to be of the opinion that we owe nearly all our knowledge of medical and surgical science to animal experiments. Today I know that precisely the opposite is the case, in surgery especially, they are of no help to the practitioner, indeed he is often led astray by them.” –Hans Ruesch

“Of all the black crimes that Man commits against God and Creation, vivisection is the blackest.” –Ghandi

Along the way, having eyes yet seeing not, he misses both the x-box [¿distracted by the sparkles?] and the bus offering the mystic key to escape [19]. So, yes, predictably, just as this Jackass deserves, he wife dies before he can “save” her.

Again the sacrifice + fire + capstoneless pyramid, and again I wonder why were the prior cues included? For who’s benefit? The [du]mb[a]sses? I don’t have the answer. Don’t know if and when I will. Regardless of their intentions, I’m still going with my instinct, which is telling me I don’t wanna burn up, hence I’m building the ark.

Dreaming at some point since this series commenced, I found myself on a bus traversing what appeared to be some unknown part of the Brasilian coutnryside. As is common with me, I verbalized whatever song was playing inside my head. “There’s a little black spot on the sun today.”

“That’s my soul up there,” chimed in a random voice from a few seats behind me.

I turned around, wondering who, and it was Sting himself. I continued, “It’s the same old thing as yesterday.”

“That’s my sould up there,” he added.

How fucking cool is that, I thought. I’m singing a duet with Sting. I tried to keep going, but garbled it up, getting progressively more nervous, something like “Why do things have to be this, way, um, er, something, stood there, pouring rain.”

“Everybody screws that part up,” he laughed, and I invited him to come up and sit with me for the duration of the trip. Ended up recommending he go to this amazing little island, where people care not who he were and where one will forget the world at large. Oddly, this island is a place I’ve only visited in my dreams.

There may be something to that. And there’s probably a reason, why that song, to me, one who’s never been a Police fan or cared much for the Sting persona [though, I will admit he chose to/was cast into two excellent roles in his career: Dune & Quadrophenia, both extremely illuminating]. A regular cryptic visitor to this site, Eugene, once sent me to a lecture by one fascinating interpreter of [multi-layered] Mayan hieroglyphs, who believes our souls enter this realm through the sun, hence Sting’s lyrics may have been more than random whimsical musings.

Well, if you’ll recall in Sunshine, Cillian Murphy, played a character who went into the sun, conquered his adversary, sacrificed himself [yet another repetition of this heinous “program”] and did so gladly, smiling as the Kelvin increased about him and his flesh was consumed. As mused before, Cilian, made his debut[ant] into the public mind, in 28 Days Later, directed by the same Danny Boyle, and oddly enough, the “climax” scene involved him killing his adversary by pushing his fingers through his eyes, syncing us back to Oedipus Rex, the archetypal King of Pain

Getting even weirder and deeper into the slimy sync-hole, I recalled I had a very odd picture of Silly Anne, I’d been wanting to use as part of my venture into a different the same hole, for my exploration of Valentine/Vagina Day. Sitting in that folder was the below [center] image from a movie Silly Anne’s polar doppelgänger Diana/Juno resonating mind-controlled scarlet emasculator de jour, eLLe[n] Page, which matched the relevant red to blue migration pattern from the Police album.

Tracey Fragments, was obviously about mind-control, and so is the upcoming Peacock, where to two are paired up to play two dysfunctional androgynes [worth noting, peacocks are associated with Juno]. Can’t help but remark how woman-like he appears in the first photo [above]. Hell, it even looks like he has boobs.

As one would expect, as with any Time cover, revelation is taking place. I’m concluding the cover is a communication vehicle for those in the know. I’m sure there were conveniently 99/66 “other” athletes worth covering and that er, “Dana’s” single horn is representative of her phallus. Man, I’m sorry, but that is one woman/dude, I couldn’t even begin to contemplate fucking.

Aside from all the hardware problems I mentioned at the start of my last article, which I’m choosing to blame on the mercury retrogade, I’ve been experiencing countless software problems, particularly with internet browsing. This has been somewhat alleviated by switching from Firefox to Opera. I guess I just didn’t want to see the obvious, or account for how Fire-FOX translates to Fire-666. Oh wait, are the symbols telling me whatever choice I make I’m fucked?

Said communication interruption led to my reading a long-sitting book that seemed a bit too daunting to pick up in the past, The Greatest Story Never Told by Lana Cantrell. She offers some amazing insight into the world, but it’s too much to get into here, and I’ll have to add a proper reView to the ever-expanding queue. However, I will, for now stress, that from Lana’s viewpoint (molecular biology), she offers on bit of undeniable truth: for ANY species, “androgyny equals death.”

Maybe, I will be the last “man” on Earth one day? Damn it, fire again! It is being programmed to such an extent, that it may be unavoidable [from a predictive programming of the holographic matrix perspective]. Silly Anne, also resonated with the last, ahem, “man” on earth, in 28 Days. In concert, the above [mind-twists] leads us back to another Bob, the one played by Will Smith in the aforementioned Legend, I Am [which coincidentally, spoke of another BoB/808, the recently discussed murdered Rastafarian freedom-fighter Marley].

Yes, Arnold was originally targeted to play the last, ahem, “man,” alive. It’s worth noting, that, so far, every one of the last four actors discussed (Jackman, Smith, Murphy, Ahnold) is a known, ahem, “butt-pirate.” Yargh, maties! {*2}

The word “Bob,” for me, also brought forth the memory of another infamous Bob, the possessed incestuous rapist and murderer from Twin Peaks. Yea, more fire. A burning torn (i.e., hymenless) “heart.” A flaming vagina at the top of the pyramid. Oh, Lucy Fur, you [not so] subtle temptress. Your hot little love box, must drip gasoline.

While Cillian and the extremely effeminate self-sacrificing vampire from True Blood, may have been longing to burn, for now, I’ll pass. I’m also growing convinced the Biblical narrative of “Jesus [willingly] dying for our sins,” was yet another massive conjob and self-sacrifice narrative weaved for the ignorant by same priest class who murdered the Christ [and likely, the same who funded Zeitgeist].

Note, the symbolism of his posture, him burning, and where he stands with the lead female character; the outer edge of the circle, because they’re not lovers. Hence, they skirt the rim of the hole, and aren’t nesting in the sweet spot (the center).

I had mused before, that the “Target” store logo, is yet another symbol for the vagina (as this ad made extremely fucking obvious). Some, were soon to [try and] correct me that it was a “sun symbol” instead. Again, multiple interpretations for us to argue over, even though they are ALL correct. Are you starting to SEE that the sun and the vagina may be one and the same?

Charlie’s Angel let us know, via 12/12 [L/L] resonating Lucy Liu, dressed in black [hence yet another female attending a funeral), that Lucy’s hole, is indeed a place of fire. Is it like a flame-thrower? Hm, I did say “gasoline” earlier didn’t I? Note the face someone took the time to embed in the V-shaped cone of fire [¿conifer?] emanating from the hole. Hm, kind of like a woman’s legs do! So, we have a V above and V below. As above, so below!

Said True Blood episode’s closing shot shows: the man is gone, the woman in red [yet, not the scarlet dress, but checkered-red, hence, the Madonna/Whore and note she’s blond, not a red-head] left standing. Only her and the sun remain. A mirror?

Now, to give away more personal information than I should, ever since I started this damned/infernal Burning Ring series, I have been bereft of female company. Heck, I kid my friends that I can’t fucking remember what a vagina smells like anymore [¿gasoline maybe?]. I’m not using this as a forum to complain, just to ponder whether I should have expected anything different, or maybe plead mercy, as I really didn’t know what the fuck I was getting into [literally]. It’s safe to say I’ve fallen out of the Vampire Queen’s graces.

I’ll probably have to do a post on the vampire trend sooner or later. The “Vampire Queen” presented near the season finale of True Blood, was of course, a red-head.

While Lynch’s Twin Peaks may have [misre]presented us with the Queen of Hearts [i.e., Lucy Fur], as the victim [the “broken heart” symbol represents a ravaged/raped orifice], Martin Scorcese was bit more honest. Well, sort of. The redhead in Gangs of New York (a film that indubitably made the Vatican oh so proud), seemed to have a clue as to what was going on.

Speaking of what the average man once considered a design flaw by the creator (yet, now relishes as a choice passage), we all know what’s located right next to the “love box.” Well, thanks to an exchange of ideas with Aferrismoon, I realized the Dead Rabbits [another vagina reference] could be found right next to the Five Points (i.e., the star, aka the anus). Worth a mention, “the redhead” is Lucy’s counterpart from Charlie’s Angels, anally fixated/abused Cameron Diaz [part iv].

On one hand, I think this [my need to press the flesh, so to speak] may be proper motivation for me to try and finish up this series before too long, and stop side-tracking into other projects. On the other, judging by the last infested hole Lucy sent in my direction [Britney Spears], I may be better off for the time being.

For some odd reason, almost every single potential lover/victim that’s crossed my path lately has had red hair. What means that Ferris? Speaking of Dead Rabbits, the one pictured above is [co]incidentally named Angie Everh[e]art, star of “Running Red” and “Heart of Stone.” A message for me, Lucy? A message for me, Lucy? [Sung to the tune of “A Message to You Rudy” by The Specials.] {*3}

Insane EverFacts: Angela born in 1969 and graduated from FireStone High. She made history herstory as “the first redhead on the cover of Glamour magazine,” and “was once told by Eileen Ford that redheads don’t sell.” Has a younger sis named “Amber” and probably should not have “starred” in “1st To Die.” {*4}

Note how even in death, the trademark V is unavoidable. I’ve covered the V enough, if not more than enough, and though I don’t expect to change the world, I am getting quite sick of seeing people morons constantly flashing the “piece” sign. Aferismoon was good enough to send me this [now] extremely relevant photo of Tom Cruise [hm, another vampire of note] making the V sign. Basically, what came out of our conversation, and what I am conVinced of now, is that making the symbol open face means “fuck me,” while making it outwards means “fuck you!”

The latter picture is from the Iranian elections. Yet, another “green” revolution. It was quite striking to me to see all these [“evil,” according to AIPAC’s media wing] Iranians running around flashing the “peace” [of ass] sign. How green connects to this is probably also relevant, but seeing that I’ve been staying out of pink holes, I see no logic in wantonly diving into a green rabbit hole presently.

Continuing with more oddness, I finally bothered wondering if anyone previously connected Lucy Fur, to the Luscious Ferrous one. Per Google, some burlesque stripper in Los Angeles got the idea [well, 2009 per copyright]. Though, her being American in this day and age, along with her profession suggests that her hole and “fur” have rarely ever met. The only reason I bothered including it, other than to show how every damn picture includes a bare woman (hence, a vagina) inside a vagina, is that on the day I checked her myspace, she had exactly 1666 friends.

She now has more, but what are/were the fucking odds of that? Oh, and her “name” is Lucha Va Voom … in other words, Lucha VV aka Lucha 66.

I tried to stay away from the Vampire Queen, but she got to me. My cat/pussy-like curiosity will won’t be the death of me. That’s her below: Evan Rachel Wood. God Damn! She’s got the type of looks and body I could shag until the end of time. Don’t take that as a boast. The literal “end of time” may be coming fairly soon.

However, the cover shows us that metaphorically, she’s pretty much bagged and tagged. A tattoo of a vagina right next to her vagina [a “real” one]. Through the Looking Glass (i.e., mind-controlled). Plus, the armband tags her with the mark of a slave [very likely, a sex slave]. So much for that. I’ll find something else to do until time ends. {*5}

Much to the Queen’s dismay, this would be a good time to transition away from the Holy of Holies [the hole of holes, beyond the sheer veil], and back to myself. Hence, I consciously added 3 images, shifting the total away from her [69], back to me [72]. Yes, I am practicing my own from of wizardry [spelling, emoting, right-ing].

In other words, to turn within. For as long as i can remember, which isn’t very long, I’ve been telling you guys to look within that scary fucking mirror and find yourself … hence, I will now turn within and try to figure out just who the fuck [literally] I am. The next issue will focus on you guys. Yeah, there’s two issues left, so maybe I’ll get some hole before the end of the year. 😉 Could do more, but this is an impossible topic to cover via this medium. Not even sure i entirely grasp it myself.

Eight parts [again]. My second series of utmost introspection and importance [in my eyes; at least in mytrumanesque world all that matters]. As I commented in prior series, there’s a reason that number resonates with me in more ways than I could reVeil. I’m obviously having some kind of impact in the construct, judging by how quick the Medes have been to respond to me as of late.

The above series, from the Simpsons “Burns and the Bees” episode [part i], really set me back. While I’m getting used to seeing the Medes put out pieces related to my writings shortly after I publish them, the above resonates with something they would have had to probe my brain to have learned of. Peter Tosh seems to have undergone a somewhat similar experience:

“in the middle of the night, before daylight, I was attacked by evil forces, seen? Spiritual evil forces that cause my mouth to cease from function, cause my hands and legs to cease from moving. Is only my mind that was in function, and my two eyes. As close as four of my friends was to me, which was about 12 inches away, I could not tell a man nothing, or ask a man to do anything to help me; and I was on the brink of what you call “death.” Seen? … it started with these three (?) man here. Seen? Coming from the hospital I saw ghosts, three ghosts”
–Roger Steffens, “Rebel With a Cause”

My first thought had been, “they got it wrong,” as what occurred on my mystic voyage was quite dissimilar in some key ways. However, my consternation was alleviated after I finally saw WALL·E [alas, just a movie “homage”]. It wasn’t quite what happened to Peter either, and though I’m not at liberty to discuss events, I’ll say I was saved/protected from my predicament by outside/inside forces. {*6}

Scribbling out some patterns on my notepad one night at my 19 bar, I contemplated the nonsensical Microsoft rags-to-riches story and the meaning behind the selection of their operating systems. NT wasn’t resolved until I recalled a summer in Ellada (Greece) watching the Flying Dolphins (a line of hovercrafts) skim across the water. Found the Greek lettering kind of amusing and convoluted: ΦΛΑΙΝΓΚ ΝΤΟΛΦΙΝ.

NT is the Delta? While in engineering school I got in the habit of shorthanding my notes by using the mathematical symbol for change, Δ in lieu of the word “change.” So, why was XP next? Then it hit me that I was thinking two dimensionally and that P is actually R, and the bastadization [and likely, intentional] switch of the Greek Pi (Π). Pi is the sphere. Hence, the XP is the cross/cube within the flower of life. The prison space within the totality. The windows to the life you’re missing.

Contrary to what many a mystic has been saying lately then, Obama’s not the Omega, he is the Omicron (the circle). What follows Omicron? Pi. Note to all the fools shouting “Revolution:” as Daz reminded me recently, a revolution is just one cycle around the wheel. Name one time in history a revolution led to improved conditions for anyone? I’m reminded of Jason Kidd, an NBA basketball player, telling the fans, “We’re going to turn this team around 360 degrees” [more disturbingly, many cheering]. So, yes, Obama is going to change things. Expect a 360 turn from where this country’s been headed. The Patriot Movement may accomplish same.

Note: While many are quick to point out the evil “swastika” embedded in the Microsoft logo, they’d do well to remind themselves that symbol predates the Nazis by at least 10,000 years. Cross-wearing fools be advised, per Lana Cantrell:

“Technically, or biologically, however you wish t look at it, the swastika in its particular shape draws in favorable radiations as its curved elongations created the ‘circle of the world’ at the center; total unity. The cross does not produce the circular unity of the cosmos, but draws the forces toward the center to collide atomically, entropy, death … the cross position attracts unfavorable electromagnetic fields which is why it was used in crucifixion to promote death. Swords are excellent in death wielding because of their cross-shape.” {*7}

Speaking of circles, and multiple interpretations, I know many occultists have pointed to the Toyota logo as a sign of either Taurus, Satan, or Baphomet, depending on ideological leanings [True Blood suggests Dionysus is the horned God].

It occurred to me, just as when you look at the star of david/seal of sol in three dimensions, it turns from a star into a cube [discussed]. Well, taking a step back and looking at the above from the same perspective … voilà! Three rings.

“One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them.” — J.R.R. Tolkien

Why is the image of the young lady above juxtaposed next to the Toyota logo? Basically, it’s the same picture. The three V’s she makes, represent three “rings” of sorts, three vaginas. It’s also worth noting that V, the equivalent of six in Qabalah, means her, er, “lovely” pose also implies/embeds 666, a number that also contains three rings/holes. Coincidentally, that is also the number of orifices her suitors would have at their disposal for sexual congress [a safe bet].

In the extremely relevant, to this series, Generations, we see both the Hero and the Villian, depending on alternate time-lines, burn up. The first shot lets us know the “her-o” doth haveth the lady’s approval. Either way, whether you’re one temporarily pleasing to “her hole” or an evil spawn of it (i.e., V-lain), in the end, your fate is the same. The Burning Box is finicky and needs fuel to keep burning.

Note: Patrick of Steward, aka the Picard, falls into this piece a little too well too. Of course, he’s “Professor X” of the X-Men, but he also starred alongside Sting in Dune. Amusingly, he does the voice of gay CIA chief Testicle/Bullock in American Dad. Little known role: in a movie called Lifeforce, about space vampires that drain humans of all their energy, and the Leader/God of whom was, the female.

I think we’re seriously hampered in our attempts to overcome our ignorance, by the limits placed on us by the Romanticised languages. The “Roman” letters, aside from taking swapping the R/P, give us an uneven set of letters: 26 letters does not arrange in proper rows and columns as the Hellenic 24 [also, reverse of 42, the mystic answer to life]. As Eugene once commented, the QRST (christ) comes after [I now say “out of”] the P, which should be a Π (hence, a pie/vagina/womb).

I’m sure TNT (Turner Network Television), being channel 33 on my local cable system is also somewhat significant, and like Gates, Turner is another selectman, who’s “rags to riches” story would quickly fall apart under close any scrutiny. Aside from the implied [explosive] fire resonance, TNT is formed by combing N, which is also a Z depending on perspective, with two Tees. Well, two T’s form a Π (“pie”). In other words, TT = Π; the sphere/hole again [depending on perspective].

So, yeah, it’s OZ. Oh, the wizards are crafty. Recalling the movie about zombies being domesticated, hence controlled (it was Fido, once mused). Question: What is Oz? Answer: “A Better Life Through Containment!” Argh, how fucking obvious!

I’ve been suggesting that the two key numbers, those most representative of a solution, to those of us interested in escaping via the ark, are 19, aka XIX, and 36, aka full circle, aka Pi. Since I wrote on the “Magnificent 19,” it occurred to me that there was a reason the 19th man, aka the keymaster of 9/11 was named ATTA, aka Alpha Pi Alpha [¡see how much easier it is to make sygils with the right tools!].

9-11, aka XI-IX, was definitely the end of one era, and the start of a new one, into the stargate and out the other side. Hence, the birth pangs of the New Order. Most disturbing: the above [right] propaganda poster, twisting the minds of women to get out of the house and become whores of death for the military. It really sickens me. Expect more of the same in the coming chaos. The poster should read:

“Hey! You stupid fucking whore! Why don’t you get out of the house and come create weapons of death and destruction we can rain down on man, woman, child, and animal alike. Plus, it’ll make your idiot of a husband who’s out there killing men who are not his enemy feel better, cause he knows, that you being such a whore, need to keep busy, else you’ll run around town fucking the few guys left who were smart enough not to join up for the service.”

No. I guess “Atta Girl” is much easier to remember. 😀 Ugh, we gotta get the fuck out of this place. I don’t have the answer yet, but it is [¿germinating?] forming somewhere, and THAT is the process of building the ark. Somehow, 19 [XIX] is the key, and I suspect it has something to do with vibrating/harmonizing at the right frequency to pass through the barrier [the grid I’ve been talking about].

There a reasons why Generations was chosen/fell into this series [and more are coming]. The above scene is seen through the eyes (the visor) of the blind man [“La Forge“], and used by the Enterprise’s enemies to learn the frequency of their shields, and hence send in missiles, which by modulating at the same [secret] frequency, pass right through the shields. And, that, my friends, is how the ark will pass through the barrier!

As I say frequently [and will expand on further when I do undertake the George Romero series], I don’t worry about whether a bioweapon, war, pestilence or famine will wipe out 90% of mankind. To me, 90% of mankind was killed off a long time ago. I’m not even preaching the gospel of a “revolution” in consciousness. I’m hoping for a shift in consciousness [¿or, attempting to construct such?].

While young, I used to try to come up with a sigil for my initials, and for reasons now obvious, could never come up with anything satisfactory. My new eyes show me that I am the Alpha in the Circle. Of more relevance: not the star bound by the pit, but the incomplete man reaching/bounding outside the limits of the sphere.

That’s the sign of Anarchy. Chaos. I see why I identified so strongly with Ledger’s Joker in The Dark Knight. His job was to kick people in the ass and remind them that deep down inside, they are human and if they wouldn’t rise up and recognize that, they were doomed [discussed]. Though I identify strongly with the character, I am not an agent of chaos. I simply am. I serve balance. I serve eternal Tanerlorn.

Aside from the first symbol (which was not carved into my skin), thinking back to myself at about the same time [college, when the delta habit was picked up], oddly these two below symbols came up. The first, is the painting on my wall (prior mention), the latter, the pin of the fraternity I randomly selected to join: {*8}

Oh how long have these keys been with me? I am of the firm belief that rebels aren’t made, they are born [more weirdness: after I wrote this, discovered the square number of pixels in the “anarchy” image was the same as my birthday]. Wait a minute, if I am The Anarchist, am I also the Antichrist? Or, is that just the programming in my head yet shed? Maybe I am the beast? Looking back (with new eyes), I doubt that when the oft-maligned Crowley referred to himself as “the beast,” I doubt he believed that he was actually “Satan.”

When the end of time comes, it will be because the beast has risen from the deep, and this is also a metaphoric internal process. Maybe, it is my time to rise up and challenge the gods. And, in some ways, that is exactly what I am doing. When the time comes, and I arise and destroy myself, by removing the con from my construction, I wonder whether all of creation shall meet its destruction?

From a Trumanesque perspective, I think when the end does come, at that endless moment, all that will be left, in my world, will be me and my maker, face to face.

Of course that won’t be “the end,” because after that endless moment comes and passes, he and I will go our separate ways again, until we meet at the end of the next cycle, and exchange words of appreciation and resentment once again. Alas, I think I understand why the following song escaped me for so many years, to be discovered sometime around the beginning of this beast starting to awaken:

I think many, myself included, had previously misunderstood this song. For me, now, it is the meeting between man and his maker. The unborn child, is the one the being he is communicating his anger to, is the one he didn’t have, because the matrix/creation got so fucked up, upside-down, as it is now. Living out life according to normalcy has become impossible, and he like me has chosen not to live out that engineered slave existence. That is my interpretation. That man is me.

So, fuck Heaven and fuck Hell! Should the inconceivable transpire, and I find myself in such a construct, well then “all God’s angels beware.” This Rebel will be left with no option but to devote myself, with the same fervor to tearing down that hierarchy as I have this one. Hierarchical structures guarantee only one thing: a concentrated flow of shit that eventually drowns those at the bottom and sinks those at the top, but that takes way too fucking long. Lords of the realms, you’ve been advised.

Had I remained ignorant, I’d still be running around Brasil, with my 12 girlfriends (yes, twelve, so maybe I am like the christ), and not a care in the world for all the shit I’m confronting now. Maybe I’d be better off? I don’t know, I’ll take that up with my creator when I meet him … oops, I mean “schlee.” 🙂

Need I remind anyone, when I say my creator, I speak not of the real Satan, that mother-fucker who goes by the name of Jehovah/Yahweh. If I run into that dude should I break free or get out, I’m gonna fuck him up the ass. When I mused this to a friend recently, she said, “So that you can steal his life force?” Actually, I hadn’t considered that, but now that she mentions it, not a bad idea!

To imbue myself with life force stolen taken from a God. Dare I? To some, this will come off as “blasphemy.” But, that is not your mind or soul talking, just a program looping through your neural construct. I think one of the worst things you can do to a child, is indoctrinate their young mind with religion. In my own astral wanderings, I ran into two beings who claimed to be “God” … looking back, I think they were taking advantage of my [programmed] ignorance. One was kind, loving and jovial. The other cruel, sadistic and mother-fucking scary.

At some point, should I either deem it appropriate, or be permitted to, I will speak of my mystic voyages, and what my eyes have not seen. I know a date with destiny awaits me. When that day arrives, I will seek out the former being, and embrace him. As for the latter, I know he is terrified of that day arriving. Will I seek vengeance, or will I forgive? Only my heart knows the answer to that, and while he may know my mind, the former is a place he cannot fathom.

And what about Lucy Für? Well, I’ve learned a few things about women in my years, and I’ve decided on the proper course of action for dealing with her in the now. What is the worst thing you can do to a woman whose attention you have somehow garnished [regardless of if its positive or negative]? Ignore her!

Is there a greater perceived injustice than to let one over-ripe fruit wither on the vine? Her fire, bereft of fuel, will either have to burn itself out (unlikely for an eternal one), or rage out of control …the fire is coming. I know to some this may seem daunting, and dare I say scary, but I’m not fear-mongering. It’s not because I think I have a ticket on the ark. That phrase never entered my thoughts. A scenario where I, by holding the key, would be required to stay behind and hold the portal/break open has entered my/the mind [though, that might be a neural program].

But why guess at my destiny, when I could create it? I know I seek eternal Tanerlorn, for I am weary. At some point, I should give this wizardry business up, and set up [re]building my own Tanerlorn in this world/plane of existence. If I don’t succeed, inevitably I will find it in the next.

 

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*1: Will get into that song more when I do my George Romero video/documentary. And, “they” do know what “we” watch. I remember calling Cable tech support and the girl saying, “Oh, I see you watch True Blood.” [LB]

*2: Oh, what an [anally exacting] toll “fame” must take. Keep an eye out should From Starfish to Stardom ever creep out of the queue. [LB]

*3: Lana Cantrell, would probably advise me, that it’s for the better, as by staying out of them, I am prolonging my life and preserving my strength. Styigan Port, was it not you that said “sex is death?” [LB]

*4: True Syncronicity/Wackiness: Right after I wrote down these “everfacts” I got a call from my sister. It turns out that not only has she met Angela, but was at one time, a close friend of Amber, who she had thought might be a good match for me, and was trying to hook us up. Yes, the little sis (Amber) is a redhead too. [LB]

*5: Actually, I’m gonna stay away from that hole completely. Not only did she fuck derelict androgyne Marilyn Manson, but “inspired” him to write “Heart-Shaped Glasses (When The Heart Guides The Hand)” [disturbing video]. She also lost out the role of the child vampire in Cruise’s Interview With the Vampire to Kirsten Dunce and “starred” in degenerative mass whore-programming vehicle Thirteen. Worst of all, her “her-o” is U2’s cocksucking eugenicist front-man Bono. [LB]

*6: Don’t know if anyone mentioned this before, but applying the “spinner” … WALL-E, a “beast” of sorts, could be code for Aleister Crowley’s LAM. [LB]

*7: Anyone who spent time studying medeival weaponry, such as I, was probably a little befuddled as to how the long sword was generally favored over axes or flails, especially against heavy armor. Alas, it makes more sense now. [LB]

*8: Many seem surprised to learn I joined a fraternity. Well, I actually joined two. Hence, my popularity at the first seriously suffered, cause apparantly that was against “the rules.” But, that’s a whole nother story. Suffice to say: I don’t believe in rules. [LB]

~ by celticrebel on September 23, 2009.