The International Community Takes the Place of Divine Right and Bullies the Courageous Loner

If only we could get him to fit in !

To become just like one of us, a slob just like one of us. Another one taken from the wild and unknowable place of misunderstandings.

If it could be realized, finally, peace on earth and sheep eating tigers.

We would all be so wonderfully just so much more happy on holidays on the beach. Eating ice cream, and reading this summer's popular novel on the towel on the sand, baking like bread in the sun.

We've got to make him fit in, or we'll just have to get rid of him. He's worse than Gaddafi but not as mad. He's not as crazy. He has better soldiers and a big friend who lives in a house next to his back yard.

Harassing doesn't seem to work. But we'll find a way. It's easier to take away his family and home than with the others we bullied. After all we are the servants of the chosen people. Their god is on our side.

Problem is, he has a big friend next door.

But we'll find a way. Then he'll be googled. Put away in a drawer. His name will be in our dictionaries, our electric powered encyclopedias. Or perhaps we'll just pretend he never existed. Was never a threat. Who was he ?

A bit of electronics and we can taser him ! We could send some sand storms and perhaps some uneducated morons on the soil. 

When some one does well without us, we dont like that. It's not fair. Look what Hitler did. Best economy in the world before we got rid of him.

With Al Assad, all those religions living together under one rule. We didn't say, he could do that. No, it's not fair.

We are the International Golden Standard. We are the Law. We decide. 

We serve one purpose, Satan's pleasure. Chaos out of Order, that's our motto.

Chao ab ordo !...and not the other way around, like dimwits think.

   

Stella Splendida Matutina

A force de flatter l'imbécile on lui fait croire que, le troupeau peut mener paître le Pasteur !

On appelle ça la démocratie quand c'est le bétail à la dérive à qui on fait imaginer, qu'il ait la réelle capacité de comprendre et à faire les règles de la politique du tout. La pluie et le beau temps. Le tout pour le bonheur de son ventre et la satisfaction de son abondante fatuité.

La tête d'un joueur de foot à l'affiche fait espérer au badaud le salut de ce qui est absolument futile et de guingois. L'être frustre et de vanité s'estime l'égal de ceux qui possèdent de l'élégance et de l'intellect. Ceux qui sont beaux sont laids, le mauvais est bon, le mécréant l'égal du croyant. L'argent achète la puissance et l'estime, les badauds s'entassent à Cannes et le crétin a compris qu'il est mieux de toucher le RSA, mentir sur sa véritable situation et faire pitié devant des assistantes sociales qui ne sont plus du tout très fraîches! 

Ensuite avec le RSA, l'argent au black, et l'appui financier des parents baba, ils partent en quête de "spiritualité" pour l'Inde et parfois participent à des partouzes en Pondicherry !    

D'ailleurs, n'est-ce pas l'envie ou la jalousie attisée qui nourrit la haine du mufle, envers ceux qui sont à même de mieux gérer les conflits de tous genres dans une société, où chacun se croit vraiment là, que pour lui-même et la réalisation de ses appétits les plus primaires ! 

Christus Verus Lucifer ! 

Lucifer oriatur in cordibus vestris.

Le Christ est Celui qui en vérité porte la Lumière ! 

Que Celui Qui porte la Lumière se lève dans vos Coeurs.

Jusqu'à quel point imposera-t-on le savoir-faire inculte du soi-disant "peuple" opprimé ? 

On vit à l'époque où l'hors caste devient chef et roi ! 

L'époque de l'éloge de l'inculte et du désarroi barbare qui déjà, il y a fort long temps dévitalise l'Europe par les racines et par infiltration comme une herbécide cataloguée.  

Sournois et crapules l'ont défigurée. Le français, il a vendu l'herbe de dessous ses pieds pour le fric aux barbares d'une autre ethnie afin d'être humanitaire ! 

...et c'est le Pape et l'Eglise qui sont Sataniques ? !!!

Qui prient qui, LUCIFER ! ???

Bande de Crétins, hommes incultes. Eduquez vous ! ...enfin.

Dans l'antiquité la planète Mercure était attribuée au Christ, tout comme elle l'est aujourd'hui au Bouddha.

L'étoile du matin est aussi associée avec l'Ange Gabriel. Celui qui, grâce à Dieu, a transmis au Prophète(saws), le Saint Qur'an !

Quand Vénus se lève, on la dessine comme suit :

...et quand elle se couche :

VESPER

Les étoiles du matin et du soir. 

La première symbolisait le Christ sa naissance et sa résurrection, la seconde, la chute de Lucifer.

Satan (Sataïn) est celui qui se détourne, ou qui quitte ou a quitté le bon chemin : la Voie Droite ! Il est l'ennemi juré de l'homme, à cause de l'envie et de sa terrible jalousie ! Et comme il s'oppose à ce qui est droit, bon et juste dans l'homme beau et noble, il est d'office l'adversaire de Dieu, des amis de Dieu et de ceux qui aspirent à l'être.

Satan n'est pas le lucifer dont il est parlé dans un rituel de l'Eglise Catholique, et qui plus est aussi un autre nom de Jésus.  Mais par maladresse ou parce que Satan lui-même a souhaité "détourner" et embrouillé l'usage originel de certains mots clefs, on en est arrivé là, à cause de notre épouvantable et immodeste ignorance qui ne cherche jamais midi à 14h.

Satan (Sin, Tet, Noun) accuse, il hait l'autre. Il hait le beau, l'élégant et le noble. Il hait la bonté et le courage de celui qui affronte l'inhumaine petitesse des foules composées de répliques clonées à des centaines de milliers d'exemplaires.

Satan s'oppose au Christ. Il s'oppose à sa Lumière. Il est l'adversaire de celui qui porte la Lumière. De celui qui est Lucifer ! Et ce nom en Latin n'est pas un nom propre, mais un qualificatif !

Lucifer Oriatur In Cordibus Vestris.

Si Satan hait Celui qui porte la Lumière et en qui s'est levé cette Lumière, il sera a fortiori ton ennemi et l'ennemi de cette Lumière que tu portes.

Si dans un rituel de l'Eglise Catholique on emploie le mot lucifer en latin, ce n'est pas parce qu'Elle fait des éloges à Satan, mais parce qu'Elle fait une comparaison entre l'Etoile du Matin qui se lève et la Résurrection du Christ !

Even Jesus Went to Hell, Came Here, and Left !

...even Jesus went to Hell. But of Hell he made no Paradise. Wasn't thinking of it ! Had no plans to stay in infernal sewers where flesh rots. 

In Hell the robots rust.

He said he was going back to his Father. He didn't die for the sins of the World. The World's destiny is to die like a man, or a courageous mother. 

He died on the cross, in the realm of the four elements, where ondines and salamanders live, the elves and dwarfs ! It's Man who killed him. Not God. 

Man is led in his life on a road where exceedingly, he takes pleasure in perverting the Sacred.

He has no gratitude, kills his holy men, then honors them in tombs, we call churches ! We make believe, that he came to save us, washing our dirty laundry with his divine blood.

   

Jesus said in Hell, "Grab my hand, and come with me out of here ! What use is there to lament eternally your past ! Get out of the cold burning filth ! I am the Light of all Sacred Life. What you killed had nothing in it. Stop weeping. And come."

Dont you know, the son of Man went to Hell. But didn't think of staying there or of making it into some kind of freemasonic middle-class socialist international plastic paradise !

His kingdom doesn't belong to the hosts of Hell. 

Can a hyena become a lion ? 

An eagle a cock roach ?

of Mortal Combats and Gnostic Joking ! Kore Kosmou.

I would look into space and say what I see and have seen with my mortal eyes was only a pretext. A preamble before meeting all the dead at the center of the world.

If your stomach hurts, do you just keep eating away at dead things. And then complain, that eating, might kill you ? 

Really ? All those forlorn thoughts wasted on pretentious beliefs, in schools on highways or with an arrogant woman ! 

Is your animal body the only vessel worthy to your mind ?

How well groomed we are here in Death's mirifique abode. Not watching the Universal Movement of things as living in an elsewhere, provided with eternal longevity. But insisting on staying on in spite of it all, hoping one day that we might realize Plato's Republic, destroying all hope in family pride and ethnic immortality. 

Better to be a useful numbered machine in a social and loving collective, than to strive with all one's heart toward Supreme Being ! We are just buckets being emptied into the vast global nicey land. And everyone's smiling. 

Is it possible to discuss with preconditioned language, how God sees thru our eyes while He lives in the fire and the earth, in the air and the water ?

Yet already, He is elsewhere like me. Turned invisible. 

Shudras, the outcasts and Magicians

What is a shudra ? 

In any case, he's not an outcast, nor any sort of criminal you might be able to imagine.

The shudra built the house you're living in. He constructed the water works, and made it easy for us to drink a glass of water. He makes the pots and pans, he is the sacred artist without which no one could cook or eat his dinner. 

He fabricates chairs and tables. He knows how to use a furnace and he can even build one. 

Did René Guénon sit in mid air, while writing, "La Crise du Monde Moderne" ? Did he use a pen or pencil that someone took the time to make ? Did he drink coffee or tea using his hands like a cup ?

Did he sit on a toilet seat, or go outside and shit like a dog on the pavement ?

There are several kinds of outcasts !

Those who wanted to know why, and were therefore expelled from Disneyland.

And the other sort of paria who is the kind of man who hasn't any self-pride. He's a drunkard and a lout. A coward who doesn't hesitate to use others for his or her own benefit. The eternal parasite : les Thénardier are a very good example of what is going on in western countries at this moment : the socially assisted feeble minded who in their boredom sleep drink and fuck all thanks to the state. And oh yes, they have lots of children waiting to become like Mom and Dad. Social Security Workers love them.

They're for Greenpeace, smoke rolled cheap tobacco, only eat biological food, id est without GMO, sell and smoke grass and wish that everyone on earth would pay them a ride to India, Mexico or South America ! They hate to share with the educated and curse God for their misfortune, because of course they're very smart and above in value over the lucky rich who exploit them !

They've replaced the ancient aristocracy. Thanks to social and very humanitarian benefits. The middle-class pays for their wonderful holidays.

There are three kinds of Magicians. They can't help but hide !

They are not filled with themselves and honor one Lord. 

They are hyper cosmic of origin. They belong to no one, and have no cast. They are not afraid even though spied on or watched from afar. They mix with everyone, even with outcasts. But the outcast is too conceited to be able to recognize a true king !

There are three categories of magicians.

They are Gaspar, Melchior and Balthatzar.

...et à Dieu seul la Gloire.

Dharma's Baby : Φάνης

It's certainly the best moment within the Creator's zodiacal precincts, for a man to be born, even though it be in a world that is falling to earth's bottom. This period in our great cycle is the sidereal geographical moment when the portal into Dharma will show itself. And an opening of the heavens will sever the eyes that willfully close themselves, permitting the angels to gape in, looking on our busy lives, in order to reach for the babes that are worth it.

The state of the four majestic elements is in a phase of general universal imbalance. 

But a Tulku will break the bonds that enslave all those who are innocent men captured by the deadly rapture which deviated grand mothers have always prayed for in the hill billy town temples.

Soon the world corpse will dislocate, entirely. And like an egg burst itself. Giving birth to Dharma's baby.

He will kill darkness making a new earth with a new sky, and all who are there we shall call Pleroma.

ah !

You need to tell yourself more lies. To sink your mind into them more deeply, into Hell's mud. Then you'll you say, I knew it all the time. 

Perhaps you'll just quote Schopenhauer or Hegel. Maybe Nietzsche. Make believe, they understood what now, you pretend to understand or understood, while in fact they only said what they were told, and were nothing but a secret operation : Plato's Machination : a Confederacy of Idiots who were to give birth to post-modern cynicism.

Some men who are born under the spiteful and disdainful starry pettiness of predetermined skies escape at their birth the devil's planned ugliness !

How and why ? That is what is wonderful ! They come into the world protected by higher powers. From beyond those astrological grids which imprison for the most part, all people in all parts of the World. Even those who are alien.

They come here, to disrupt the chaotic racial quagmire : the hatred of one's own kind ! Being unpredestined, they accomplish the Father's will, because after all, what is living and what lives, according to God's plans, is animated by an unknown transcendental inexistant ideation ! The Hyper-conscious Soul of Things.

A something that not even the Theory of General Relativity, nor Quantum Physics, nor String Theory could ever account for. No mathematical slave to all these or other unmentioned sciences know. They seek in a dark room, and there are no doors and windows. 

Stuck in the mud like pigs who shit on a fellow pigs mug.

The fashioned mortal brain in their cranial box cannot perceive the wondrous incongruity ! ...neither can it watch for or comprehend, what immortal eyes must see. 

They decide when. These eyes of true being. These eyes that see what is there to see.

The Father of Hearts, knows. 

He is unable to abandon what is his.

He is more like a Boudha. He fears nothing and is loyal. He was unexpected. 

He is the Tathagatagharba. 

He will not come as a Savior for what isn't his. His brethren will recognize him at once. But he isn't a Guru ! His light will not salvage what belongs to the uncouth and sordid.

He is not the salvation of the World, but of his kind. 

Le Dissolvant et sa Dissolution : Kali bis

Qui ose incarner le salut ici dans cette vallée de larmes, assumera le destin astral qui sera octroyé. Il sera comme un dieu et ne sentira plus les paroles injurieuses proférées par des mortels inconscients. Car il supportera sur sa personne les reproches à ses actions dans ce monde du Karma. Il franchira avec son propre regard le vaste abîme dont la ténuité se dérobe constamment de sous ses pas. Il ne sera plus agité ! 

Pour lui il n'y aura plus de talisman ni d'amulette. 

Il joue un drame qui se réalise en un pot de glaze. Il est né pour ruser dans cette arène de mécanique stupidité, avec l'épouvantable humanitariane garce. Il saisira la tête à vipères puis lui tranchera le cou, mais il ne faut surtout  pas regarder le reflet de la grimace tortionnaire, que sur son bouclier qui seul puisse supporter l'impact de l'extrême peur et haine qui se révèle dans les yeux de Kali !

Le dissolvant désagrège et absorbe ensuite petit à petit, la terre récalcitrante qui était jadis empourprée. 

Kali de toute sa fureur résiste à tout ce qui est réellement aimant sur son passage : cependant elle est capable de feindre une tendresse qui est opportuniste, de séduire des males susceptibles, et de faire d'un homme brave, une épave.

Comme elle ne jouit pas d'une volonté individuelle ayant un esprit immortel : elle manque de conscience personnelle et d'une cohérence morale qui serait forgée à toute épreuve :  elle espère l'échec de toute déschématisation cérébrale.  

L'humilité, elle ne connaît pas. Elle n'est pas modeste. Elle voudrait être un mec. Que tous les hommes se mettent sur le dos, et deviennent des paillassons. Des essuie pieds.

Et il n'y a personne derrière qui t'attendra ! Ni personne à tes côtés.

Elle est la terreur socialiste : l'humanitaire sensiblerie des faux-culs moralisateurs de dimanche qui s'expriment après un bon petit repas du soir avant de passer au cinema de Minuit. 

Ne t'étonne pas que son tronc n'engendre pour chaque tête coupée, une nouvelle dans chacune des ses défaites. 

Puisse Athena nous porter conseil et stratagème !

Le Dissolvant et sa Dissolution : Ô Kali !

...pour les droits de l'homme je t'ai apporté ta perte ! Heureusement qu'au moins les hommes sont égaux quant il s'agit de bêtise. 

Jamais, depuis, ils ne sauraient plus aimer les leurs. Depuis la mise à feu de tous vos réels patrimoines, la laïcité en invente d'autres : les parcs deviendront des camps de réfugiés, et les promenades anglaises de jadis les bidon villes de nos futurs Disneyland ! Vive la République et que vivent les automates organiques augmentés pour demain.

Moi Kali, j'attendais impatiemment ce précieux moment d'hypocrite engouement ! Ma "noirceur" envahira les plaines, et vos héritages se dilapideront dans les HLMs de vos cités. Vous aurez tous des têtes de Banania et serez envoûtés par les tams tams d'une Culture qui n'est pas vôtre. 

Votre mélange bâtard désacrera(sic) votre sol ! Je vais abattre enfin vos enfants aux traits nobles et retirer de sous vos pieds vos terres, et les terres de vos ancêtres ! Vous serez tous conditionnés sous forme de cheese burger, et estampillés du sceau du polystyrène marqué des voyelles UE. Sur vos fronts humiliés je mettrai un code barre et sur vos mains entre le pousse et l'index j'aurai apposé mon oreille sigillée, l'horreur des égouts effondrés et mon cher sourire macabre, preuve de ma solicitude vous accompagneront vers la nulle part de vos projets étourdis.

Qui c'est maintenant qui monte à l'envers, et qui prenne le cheval par la queue ?

Je suis l'élément le plus lourd et le plus instable, et parceque j'étouffe  la lumière immortelle, l'homme de race enfin, sera quitte avec mes menstruelles humeurs.... et il n'aura qu'une seule envie : c'est de fuir l'infernale ghettoe que j'imposerai ! Car la beauté et l'honneur n'auront plus de place là où mon chaos règnera. 

Le Monde ne sera qu'un très grand assistanat ! Où il fait bon pleurer sur son sort !

Is God a Tyrant ? or is it just Mankind !

Is God a tyrant or just an excarnated bad and uncontrollable thought that has taken shape on the front porch of your home? A tyrannical child that you've nurtured, because of an inadequate and feeble minded inner perspicacity  ? 

Is He just a psychological shadow ploy, which at times, flees, and gets away; only coming back to haunt in the dense and dark cellar, the semantically shackled  ? 

Or is He waiting there, above....in the higher heavens, waiting, still waiting ? Till the imagined broken day dreams conceived by "men", just tumble away ...? breaking up into nonsense at the foot of our  heights........

He waits. 

But there is no afterwards, there, where there was no one.

There is no collective redemption. Only slaves herd together when chased. 

Teach your children pride and relentless courage. And not to fear death !

He wakes alone, but with God as witness.

A "God" made man thru the inner workings of a causal seed  fueled by an ectoplasmic electromagnetic ghost ! 

Sharira !

Eugénès é Agénnès

That's it, I'll stay at home and do some meditation. Perhaps I'll find out where the better man in me is or as I am just keep on being the better man that I am. Or perhaps I'll go out into the world, on the stage of things, on the platform of my own buoyancy, and just be what I was meant to be : a badly born frustration made to be a fabricated conditioned collective consciousness production ?

How outrageous, to be what I am as I was meant to be from the start : a believing man. An internally wrought creature. A goodness that insists itself on the World ! Something that seeks its own worth thanks to what invigorates it from the inside. A metaphysical man. A transcendance storming on the atomic-geometrical kosmic plan of things.

To be the secret force created out of nothing. Its own worth. No outside thing that could determine its value : only scraping at its heels. 

Truly, it is only the bad man who'll die. He isn't worth a damn thing. He's meant to rot with all bankers' worthless currency. Why indeed take the trouble to make things come out otherwise, when we know it's only a devil's parade of pretentiousness ?  

This world is a place meant for the badly wrought and born. It's an artificial land where ugliness is honored and beauty only craved for but mutilated to suit the badly born man's envy ! It's a place for a cynic's hypocritical pride. Where a lie is considered something equal to the Truth. You can make more money on it and send your kids to a good school : they'll be for equal rights and no guns : peace 'n love.

What is a good birth if not what the world's universal middle-class mind despises ! 

The artificial sedentary brain-set keeps holding on and on to the shadow bones of its redundant "disney" inhumanity. It honors fiduciary rubbish and clings to the evangelical gold and silver it saves, in the vast vaults of its infamously puny protestant mind. Waiting for Jesus, that He might save their artificial skin and bring their children to a miraculous haven where a plentifully replenished retirement account awaits them.

The "eugenic" man  for them, is an anomaly. He is a man who has no rightful place in their futur. Why would he ? 

Imagine the eugenic man as one who believes in honor, courage, bravery, who isn't possessed by what he possesses. Who makes his mind up and is ready, not to save "Willy" and the World, but give his life for what is noble even though he be despised for it ! 

Yet he would die as he tried to live. Having chosen the ways of the Noble and Fearless Christ. And not of the little middle class boob who fears losing all his gold and silver and the dehydrated victuals that he stores in his basement while he goes bald !

And even if a man become(sic) an artilect, what of it ? If eugenically made better than the badly born man ? 

Is Paradise a place where protestants will graze like cattle while they stay the mammal brutes they are even below those lovely extinct creatures of yesteryear ? Or is it a place where, whatever might happen, ...maybe it's just God making other plans for his deviated human creatures !

That they might be "Well Born". And not just some infra-human degenerate thing feeding on the apples of Heaven.

   

Kako Ourgos : To Kakonoia : Vers des Tombeaux de la Ruine de l'Esprit

Eugenès é Agennès

...vers des tombeaux de la ruine. Le summum de la barbarie, c'est la Société Post-Modernist ! Ce n'est certainement pas notre attachement à du stuc et ça démolition par des incontrôlables singes habillés en noir ! 

On a été si loin dans notre égarement des valeurs "Ontologiquement Valables" de mansuétude et de sens de notre éternité, que l'homme, victime de sa propre stupidité et qui se dit bien né selon un certain type de pseudo-éthique d'après l'hilarant monopole des hommes d'artifices serait outragé ! j'ai bien dit outragé devant la destruction des biens de l'humanité à Palmyra !

Pourtant pas la moindre larme n'est versée de la part de ses mêmes bureaucrates de la pensée correcte quand nos chers alliés emploient des armes à base d'uranium appauvri, des bombes à neutrons ou des obus de phosphore, en Iraq, sur la bande de Gaza ou au Yemen ! 

Voilà pour ce qu'il en est de notre attachement aux idoles de la vaine gloire et à l'idolâtrie chérie de ceux que nous voudrions prétendre être à l'origine de notre si belle et formidable technobureauécocratique civilisation . Hah !

Quel qu'en soit la civilisation ou forme du gouvernement que pratique un peuple, les seules véritables formes de barbarie commises par l'homme sont ces atrocités innommables perpétrées contre le peu de descendants de la véritable humanité qui nous restent encore et pour combien du temps! 

On s'en tapent de ces beautés en stuc ou en marbre à Palmyra. De ce patrimoine de l'humanité !

Voyons ce que nous faisons envers la progéniture patrimoniale  qui est issue de la nature qui respire et que Dieu nous lègue :

...et voyons ce qui nous reste d'un morceau du marbre, qui serait tant admiré par nos savants "pseudo-hommes" sur les plateaux télévisés du discours publique et hautes sphères de l'Education Universitaire d'aujourd'hui :

Franchement, l'homme qui adorerait d'avantage ça avec tout ce que cela supposait de vénérable auparavent, est soit un nevro-psychopathe ou tout simplement une abomination devant les yeux de l'Eternel et Immortel Adam.

Mad and Insane

To worry. To worry continually without perfect madness !

Like a shameless heel on a road. Damned in a man made verbal cage. In a demon's incarceration.

We make our every structured unquietness into an unavoidable critical situation. Were men meant to think or quiver with a working mind ? Does man even have in the long run a mind that could call itself so ? Are thoughts really necessary for the immediate well being that supposedly all so called men strive for ? 

Eat, drink and be merry. Or just worry worthlessly all the life that you need, until the bleak sandman cometh ? To take it back. Putting it back again into the drawers of useless quibbling !

What is hidden in the sky around you ? What is it that you're breathing while you are in the process of "thinking" your brain away into oblivion's hut ? Is it with a peaceful mind that  approaches, when you lie on the dust bin of all lives ? Or has it changed, is the dust on the drive way gone, do autumn's falling things cover the way ? Is your front door closed and locked. Do you have a back door ?

Is it just your solemn promise, has made you climb those steep steps that go up and down at one and the same time ?

Into your unfathomable cellar : into the attic over which you've never built any ceiling nor roof to cover it ?

Who is it, has been abused by any kind of mind control ? 

Those who have awakened in their own home made nightmare.

Who's, the fault, that you're insane, mad ? 

Mine. Since birth till now, I'm done for. 

The brain might break and that's just fine. I never was a good school boy. Useless !

But I converse with the damned in Hell and those angels who'll stand my company.

I am in two or three places at a time. My awareness is in God's hands. My soul under my keeping and guidance. The terrestrial body, a barren wasteland full of ghost shadows : the real earthen dirt to which it will return, afterwards to be exhausted in the abysses and washed in heaven's tears will become a cristal clear abiding vessel. Ready to be conquered and assumed by a resurrected  consciousness.