In one of the apocryphal gospels, a disciple said to Jesus not to forget the damn magicians. And Jesus agrees! He works miracles by dozens,ifever this is true isn’t it magical? In 1975, I was passionate about Castaneda. Twenty years after, Nagual magic seemed to me the best thing in the world.
“An apocryphal is a writing whose authenticity is not established. In the biblical field, the expression refers to a text considered inauthentic by religious authorities”.
—who are human and as such may be mistaken.
I was in my Rochefort period, alongside my benefactor Flornoy who was undoubtedly a powerful magician. I myself was his apprentice, in intensive training, and I did not understand why we should have deprived ourselves of these beneficial practices.
When I read those words, I didn’t understand. But those words stuck in my mind. They registered in the cloud of my aura so that they could serve the cause of truth when the time would have come for me to see the light through the darkness.
Twenty years ago I was groping, bumping into all the furniture that was cluttering my voracious mind. He was curious about everything. He gleaned on his way carelessly beautiful pearls, polished pebbles, paper nuggets and driftwood. His purpose was not to sort but to pick up. He did not know what mattered or what should be thrown into the fire. My mind was cluttered with worthless trinkets that were only good at hiding the light
Awakened little children do so. They keep everything in themselves or in their luminous aura. They keep asking a hundred questions about what they see, what they feel, what they hear and what they don’t understand. Do not chase them away or shut up. They deserve the truth, for they are the bearers of light that the world awaits.
Do not be surprised if they correct your answer with words more accurate than yours. For the world is not worthy of them. That is why they came with the intense light of their wisdom to illuminate the darkness where the earth is plunged. When the light has made its way into the hearts of humans will appear the Great Sun from which nothing can come to an end. It will dispel the dark shadows and it will be for us the end of slavery.
Sol Invictus, a Latin expression meaning “Sun Undefeated”, is a Roman solar deity whose cult appears in the empire during the 3rd century. Taking up aspects of the mythology of Apollo and the cult of Mithras, it was at first very popular in the Roman army.
Don’t believe Wikipedia’s half-truths. Some are worse than falsehoods. Sol Invictus is a solar cult as there have been so many around the world. Among the Romans, it was a cult of mysteries, the greatest of mysteries being the awakening, the gift of Isis.
This Sun is not a god, but the domain of the Gods. Hyperborea, Nibiru, Avalon, the Flying Temple, the Isle of Heaven, Eden, the Solar Arch, the Shiva paradise, the Chinese paradise — or whatever name we give it. Scholars who think of this place as a god should change their glasses. Blindness awaits them. And those who think it is a pagan cult are even more blind.
This Great Sun is the sacrosanct basis of all planetary religions. How could it be pagan?
In all traditional cultures, the highest castes gave themselves the title of Son of the Sun. We can’t understand if we think about our star. It is not about this sun, but about a large luminaire suspended close to the earth, above the North Pole, perfectly visible from all the countries of the hemisphere and whose dazzling light makes the sun similar to a second moon. This great sun that nothing can extinguish and which is, as Plato claims, the unique origin of all the gods before.
The planetary nobility therefore wants to come from these gods, great characters by size and powers.
I’ve been writing since I was a little boy. I blacked out pages and notebooks. I covered leaves and carbons with inspired fantasies, which I most often did not understand. My head was empty. But I had this urgency to write everything that came at my fingertips. I could only write next to any thought. Like someone else is writing for me.
I was nine years old in December of ’58. That night I went to bed earlier than usual. And I woke up in the middle of the night.
Without knowing why, I went down the black corridor to the parents’ room. Mom felt me coming, it woke her up. She turned on the bedside lamp. Dad kind of grunted discontented. I was standing in the doorway. I can’t get close to Loulou.My mom “What’s wrong? Are you sick?“
I was not sick. Not in the sense that she heard it. I stood up. I prophesied. Dad stood up on one elbow, his eyes puffed with sleep, looking stunned. “What is he saying?” Mom beckons him to shut up. She listens to me, attentive, to capture every aspect of this incredible scene.
I talked about long minutes. Then I stopped. I said what I had to say. In the long black corridor, the whispers of my parents made me retrace my steps. Dad was shocked. But what’s that kid doing to us? He’s crazy. You gotta get him treated.”
“No, don’t worry. Sleep,” Mother repeated. “He’s the little Jesus in the temple to teach the Doctors of the Law.”
“You think we are the Sanhedrin!” said Papa — In a half-voice, because my big brother’s room is next door, we must not wake him up.
The Sanhedrin was Israel’s traditional legislative assembly and supreme court, and normally sat in Jerusalem. Its name derives from the Greek συνέδριον/ sunédrion, meaning “sitting assembly”. It had 71 sages and sat in the Beth Hamikdach.
Here only two wise men sat in their beds. It was not the Sanhedrin, but the Temple of Jerusalem. I was little Jesus, as Mom understood. Under the influence of the catechism, where I was assiduous. I wanted to become a priest. I taught my cat and preached before the pigeons on the roof.
That night I preached for my parents. Don’t ask me what I said or what my prophecies were. I have forgotten these childishness or this revelation. One day, perhaps, will I remember it. During my lifetime? If I can still write, you will read it here.
I was convinced that I loved Jesus more than myself, more than my mother, more than my life. My ideal until I was twelve, to become a priest. I was serving the great mass that I could sing in Latin. All that faded after my descent into hell. Since that time, spirituality has prevailed over religion. I came back from afar. Faith gave way to wisdom. I escaped. It was about time!
Religion is for those who are afraid of going to hell, spirituality is for those who have already been there.
Take a hundred men, you will find a man of faith. Take one hundred men of faith, you will find a man of knowledge.
Wisdom? Too early for that. I had nothing of a wise child. My young ego no longer wants to be a priest, it prefers Davy Crockett. The Temple of Solomon makes way for Fort Alamo. One nail chases the other.
The real ambition will come much later, when I set out in search of the only achievement that counts: becoming myself. Finally surpassing the ego, doubling the little self, reach the Self.
It’s still a distant project. How would I be there when I don’t know myself yet? I walk in all directions my life line as that of time, thick shadows inhabit me that distort my past. My past lives are contemporary. Antecedents, they become interior: I live them all in parallel with the current. And I’m drowning in it.
After Apollo, Orpheus, Prometheus, Aesus, Mithra, and so many others, who is this umpteenth christ? Who is Jesus of Nazareth, a city that was founded only in 60 years after him? Is it a cocktail of previous prophets and gods? Is it a simple invention?
Did Jesus only exist? One can really ask this given the total absence of historical traces. Of course, there are the gospels and other canonical texts. But as no other historical trace supports these articles of faith, one is entitled to doubt their authenticity.
John Lamb Lash scoured the Assyrian tablets, the Coptic scrolls of Nag Hammadi and the Dead Sea scrolls. It is formal: in the original Christian texts, Jesus is never mentioned.
It only mentions the revelator, which can be any prophet, abundant at that time.
My favorite apocryphal, the most Gnostic: the Gospel of Thomas. I have just returned to it and I have not read it as before. Seeking the quotation of Jesus cursing the magicians, I failed. But I picked up some pearls. See the following logions.
Logion (Religion) Quote, narrated word of Jesus Christ. We notice that some logions of the Gospel of Thomas deviate from Christian traditions by approaching koans of Zen Buddhism. Which would be a quality.
Do not fast, you will hurt your body. Do not do charity, you will hurt your soul.
“Jesus said, be passers-by.”
He who has known the world has found a corpse. And he who has found a corpse, the world is not worthy of him.
44, 1 – 7 Jesus said, Those who blaspheme against the Father will be forgiven. And those who blaspheme against the Son will be forgiven. But to those who blaspheme against the pure Spirit, neither on earth nor in heaven will they be forgiven.
Who is this pure Spirit? The third person of the Trinity, the most important, Sophia. Greek Wisdom. It is the Goddess, the Gnostic texts do not make mystery. But the forced machismo of the young patriarchate erased her gender, because nothing feminine could survive after the terrible exactions of the Amazons.
Our origin is a very complicated thing. Our animal body was created by the Father, an archon, a reptilian. But the Mother — Sophia, Ana, Hathor, she has multiple names and avatars — gave her Spirit to this body that pleased her.
Reptilian too, true patroness, it belongs to the Pleroma, this physical or spiritual place where the All Powerful have the opportunity to create souls and distribute them in bodies. The Father does not have this possibility. He only generated our bodies.That is why blasphemies against him are forgiven.
Plerome, Greek word that means divine fullness. For the Gnostics, divine fullness whose spiritual beings are emanation; by metonymy, all beings. For St Paul, (Romans 13:10) the divine world or the abode of the gods.
So, one can wonder if Plerôme does not designate Hyperborea… or Alcor, the domain of the Goddess?
In the spirit of Christ Jesus, the heavenly Mother is superior to the earthly Father.
101, 7 – 8. Because my mother gave birth to me but my true Mother gave me life.
Alas, he does not have the stature and determination that befits the Son of Man. While he should be imbued with female superiority, he cannot even conceive of gender equality, as this logion shows:
114, 1 – 10. Simon Peter said to them: May Mariam come out of our midst, because women are not worthy of Life.
And Jesus said unto them, Behold, I will draw her, that I may make her a male, that she may also be a living spirit like you men. For every woman who becomes a male will enter the kingdom of heaven.
Mariam here is Mary of Magdala, Mary Magdalene, who is known to have been Jesus’ companion. But what does he say about her? If she does not become male, she will not enter the Kingdom? Does he forget that the Kingdom is not that of the Father, but that of the heavenly Mother?
Embarrassing, even incongruous on the part of a supposedly perfect god, his ambiguity does not stop there. Damned magicians, said Jesus the magician. For magic is his cup of tea. His countless miracles testify to it. Jesus heals the paralytic. It is enough to touch his garment to be healed: “Go, woman. Your faith saved you,” he said to the one who touched his cloak. It soothes the storm. He walks on the lake. He multiplies the loaves and the fish. He raises his friend Lazarus. But his best magic trick is post-mortem: he resurrects himself as the big man in the campus.
Even in the examples he chooses, his magical thinking is omnipresent.
98, 1 – 7. The kingdom of the Father is comparable to a man who would kill a great character. He draws the sword at home and pierces the wall to see if his hand will be safe. This gesture kills the great character.
Magic act par excellence. The simulacrum that becomes real, such is the basis of all black magic, spells, spells, as voodoo shows us with its figurines and zombies.
From one logion to another, God the Son never ceases to contradict himself. Or would it be Thomas? Jesus cursed the magicians while practicing this noble discipline. Noble, really? Does not magic come from the archons? In cursing the magicians, did not Jesus think of the archons? The good deal! Only his divine Mother is spiritual. His Father would be a material archon. A simple envoy promoted to the first rank by the prevailing machismo.
All the ambiguity comes from there: the reader gets confused between the Mother and the Father. Is it the fault of Judas Didyme Thomas, author of this gospel? If Thomas stumbles, one can think that Jesus groped too.
Jesus, son of the Almighty, implicitly recognizes himself as son of the Almighty, superior to the Father himself, for she is a pure Spirit, when the Father, as Archon, is only animal matter. Again this damned confusion between the Source and the gods, which are only an emanation of the Source. Is the virgin and mother Goddess the Source? For this part of our galaxy, it seems so.
Jesus son of the Almighty should place the Woman above the male, as he says in logion 44. But the logion 114 withers the woman in a foul way. Narrow-minded, reactionary, it is gratuitous machismo, both in the mouth of Peter, the future founder of the Church, and in that of Jesus, Christ our savior, who puts us in the shit. Let us save the savior! they sang on the barricades of May 68.
This logion 114 happens to be the last of Thomas’ Gospel. Just to finish on a shitty note. Now, I blaspheme a little, but against the Son or the Father, he’ll be forgiven me. Word of Jesus.
We have to decide. If Jesus remains unclear, I cannot be content. The question arises whether magic is the work of heaven or earth, Alcor or Terra, the Goddess or the archons. The serpent people have ruled this planet for tens of millions of years. Jesus came only 2,000 years ago. Other prophets preceded him, it’s true. Rather than mystical, the sky they evoke seems populated by extraterrestrials and crisscrossed with mother ships.
Did you notice they don’t say Father Ship? They say Source, too.
The texts I wrote only ten years ago tell me something else when I reread them now. My understanding has expanded to the point that everything in me works differently. The double senses that escaped me then jump at me eyes and throat. I hallucinate! Such was Flornoy’s favorite exclamation when evidence shook him. Or when ineptitude revolted him.
I just published an article that owes him a lot: Psychic Exocets. Several significant details have pulled me the tail of the eye. They would prove that dear Flornoy had the help of the archons in his magical practices.
Flornoy is a potter. The god potter is the creator of our physical body. The prince of matter. An archon.
One of his allies is the dragon man that another sorcerer made disappear. The masters of the Reptilians are the dragons.
The taste he had for arm wrestling, all his ego manifestations are reptilian. So Archontic.
When I told him he had been awakened by lightning, Flornoy did not believe me. Unconscious refusal of healing. Archontic.
“His physical and moral build fascinated me.” Fascination, his favorite weapon, is also that of the archons.
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