The gods are old, stale, too vicious. Some are hateful. But it makes them happy. They’re never sad. Ticklish, but good boys, we’re all soft. From here on, they’re all soft. They bet on black, yellow, white. They play big, all the time. Losing the charm as well as winning our money. Our blood.
As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods : they kill us for their sport.
The goddesses set them up by holding them on a leash. They have more accuracy, nobility and skill. Less taste for the buttock, except with youth. Almost no slackness and never laziness.
Less odious than the gods, I too am old but do not have the venom they kept for themselves. I have nothing vicious. Yes, I’m old and it’s fun to be old. Often distracted, I laugh at my own expense. I laugh myself and then laugh. I was born with a lot of laughs and every day I have a good time. Without reason, out of season, I fall into a slump. Hence the song of the Goslings that reigns at home.
I’ve had some wonderful days. I met some magical people: illiterate, illustrated, lit up, some dead, very nice people, two or three perfect Martians, a few not very smart giants, three ugly roitelets, Ten beautiful niggers, two very large dwarfs that I liked. Acapulco, Bali, Corfu, I’d like to try another planet, gallop from star to comet, and then howl like a crazy horse. Yeah.
When a god is young, he does wonders. When he’s worn out, he has only to deceive. Always have fun. We always dig. When you get to the bottom of the pool, don’t come up with a heel. Go down in the hard. Dig deep into the sea. If necessary, cross the earth: it is by digging that we are liberated.
When a god wins, we lose. If he loses a little, we lose big. He plays the stolen gold, while we, for him, play our lives.
Higher fools need lower ones. They want to keep us on the surface, flush with things, skin flower, people flower and ourselves flower. Without root. Without perfume. No depth. Nothing inside. Surface. They’re getting there with networks, booby traps, anti-social, zero progress. Latrine for urine. Sade to fade. Harass Boulba. Saddle in the paddle to trust the dust.
Free thinker, refuse life in a block. Fuck the retro creed of dominant thought and oppressive religions. The next step is to become free of all thought. Your head thus emptied will better capture the streams from above. Where are our masters. One star in the Great Bear is their sun. It’s called Alcor. It’s almost invisible to the naked eye. Its third planet is named Ur.
OUR/ UR/ OR. This sound expresses the ORigine, the ORage, the fORmer gods, the time befORe
Yes, but the gods are old and plunderers. If they have stopped breeding with humans like in the time of Mary, Salome, Mary Magdalene and others, They always agree on a light affair with a loving fuck like a god. Young gods fuck like young ones, old gods fuck with eyes.
When I say they have stopped breeding, think! They continue to tell tales of sweet girls. And the goddesses are staring at the butts of the handsome guys. Incubes and succubos, does that mean anything to you?
Stories about the possibility of sexual relations between a spirit and a mortal, male or female, are very ancient and present all over the world. In Greek mythology, the fruit of such a strange union was a demigod. With the advent of Christianity, these things took on a darker aspect. Incubes and succubi were considered demonic entities.
“The doctors in Black Mystic defined Incubes as demons that mated with women and Succubi as satan females who did not disdain copulating with men. The curious phenomena of the Incubat and the Succubat go back to very ancient times, at the origin of the world. The serpent who «mingled with Eve» was the Incubus Samael.
Rabbi Elias tells that for a hundred and thirty years Adam was visited by devils who gave birth to spirits of larvae and succubi. These devils were forms of Lilith, the wife of Samael.
In Genesis (Gen 6,4) it is said that the sons of God met daughters of men. From this trade giants were born. According to the comments of theologians who discussed this point at length, these sons of God were none other than fallen angels who played the role of Incubes.
At Deuteronomy (ch. 4), it is further said that all those who had mated with the devil Pehor died, unfortunately; and in Leviticus: “You will no longer sacrifice to your satyres devils whom you have had sex with.”
If we believe Isaiah, in Babylon there were hairy beings who lived with mortals. These are the Fauns and Satyrs of paganism. According to Saint Augustine they tormented women to enjoy them, and often they succeeded in their luxurous enterprises.” (Jules Delassus, Les Incubes et des Succubes, Paris, Société du Mercure de France, 1897)
(read more)
When I was young and handsome, I traded with a succubus and told the story. Always young and beautiful, my beloved defends herself from the onslaught of an incubus that sucks her air. My succubus has pumped something else out of me and I have every reason to believe that she gave birth to some kind of bastard. The Romans would have called him a demi-god.
These stories of reproduction with the gods before are not new. But in ancient times it was nothing demonic.
It reminds me of the tenant in the books of Castaneda. The nagual or woman who had sex with this former seer did so of his own free will. Me, however, I was raped by my succubus. Terrifying appearance, it turned out to be flesh and scale. After she wanked me with a skilled and icy hand, she rode me until the cum followed. Her vagina was icy. From what I’ve experienced, these entities are reptilian. Cold-blooded demons in every sense of the word.
The ancient seers did not believe in life after life. So they competed for the trick of extending their earthly sojourn. Some of them, Castaneda tells us, would have survived to the present day.
Greek mythology tells us that the duration of our life was set at 120 years by Zeus himself. This figure was in the specifications given to his nephew Promethaeus, the brilliant geneticist who is responsible for this pure masterpiece that we are.
120 years is short. Very short. Too short to discover who we are and to develop the divine powers that sleep in us. But the old seers have found their way. They’ve survived for centuries, millennia. If we don’t bother their mummies or other precious relics of their material life, I bet they can survive for eons.
To survive, I wrote. To survive is not to live. The old seers maintain a form of consciousness that is obscure, intermittent and blurred. They wander in the form of ectoplasm and hide themselves in their places of power, those that they had during their physical life. (read more)
They don’t feed themselves anymore, but they still need energy. Castaneda tells us how these undead get that energy. The sexual act is surely the best way to exchange energy. In any case, it seems that this is the one used by the tenant, an old seer who is a sort of stowaway in the line of sorcerers of the nagual Juan Matus.
For centuries, this strange tenant has manifested himself to the new naguals in an attractive physical form, in order to obtain from them the energy of love he needs. To the male nagual, he appears in a body of forty-year-old woman. To the female nagual, he comes under the appearance of a handsome mature man. And I fuck you, and I suck you, and I suck you.
When the tenant leaves, he has filled up. In exchange, the young nagual receives one or more gifts of power. These are most often the positions of the assembly point, that is to say access to other worlds or other powers. (read more)
Everything I have just told you is true. The texts exist since the Middle Ages, which relate countless stories of this type and from all countries. The Greco-Latin antiquity knew perfectly these phenomena. Before the advent of moralizing religions, these practices were not at all considered unnatural. Sin did not exist. The holy whores of old were vestals who gave their bodies to welcome.
Thus the strangers who went to the temple of Venus, Aphrodite, Bacchus or Astarte were welcomed by smiling young girls or sympathetic matrons. There was no exchange of money.
The wise Ptahhotep distills this precious advice for those who attend the temples and vestal saints found there: “Do not make love to a woman-child, for you know that we must fight the water on her heart. What is in her belly will not be refreshed; she does not spend the night doing what must be pushed back, she is calmed after putting an end to her desire.” (Teaching of the wise Ptahhotep, maxim 34)
The ancient travelers were welcomed in dedicated temples by vestals whose noble role was to give love without counting, without sparing his pain and pleasure. This ancient tradition is almost universal. The temples, houses of the gods, were originally dedicated to the reception of travelers. And the priestesses of these temples, the vestals, were young girls – or not so young – chosen from among the female population of the city or village.
They could be virgin, or not. Married women also carried out this civic prescription, which had the dual purpose of ensuring peace in the city and training women to assume sexuality. They slept with all the males, in turn, without having the leisure to refuse even one. The exercise lasted a few months or years, and no one seemed to complain. (read more)
The Greek texts make no mystery of this practice, which was later denatured, making the vestal a virgin, She was the symbolic wife of the god whose temple she adorned.
Today, the good nuns of the Roman Catholic Church are happy to call themselves the bride of the Lord. It’s an image. The marriage with Jesus will never be consummated. But this way of speaking is the direct heir of the hierogymic, or sacred prostitution of ancient temples.
In Rome, most of the vestals did not fornicate with the travelers, except those of the cult of Bacchus, god of intoxication and excess, avatar of the great Rama whose name Rome still bears. The Bible testifies to the universality of this practice of free sex. It is revealed that the wife of the prophet Hosea was a sacred prostitute in the Canaanite fertility cults. (Hosea 1:2 and 4:13, 14) (read more)
For those who would take all this for a perverse tale, the following recitation will give an example of true perversion. It is current, because the demonic reign has never been so strong. It is widespread, because men and women have never worshipped evil as today.
Those who practice this are the servants of the great archon, Mammon the unnamable, prince of matter, god of money, dragon-eater of men who lounges on a mountain of gold.
Lucifer is not the devil. God is not money. In the Gospel of Matthew and the Gospel of Luke, Jesus says this: “You cannot serve God and Mammon.” This quote is often translated as: “You cannot serve God and money.” What many of our contemporaries seem to have forgotten.
In the New Testament, Mammon is commonly translated as money, material wealth, or any entity that promises wealth. It is associated with the greedy pursuit of profit.
“Don’t put treasures on the ground, where mold and rust degrade, where thieves come in and steal. Rather, accumulate treasures in heaven, where neither mold nor rust degrades, where thieves do not enter or steal. Where your treasure is, there will also be your heart. No man can serve two masters: either he hates one and loves the other; or he attaches himself to one and despises the other. One cannot serve God and Mammon.” (Matthew 6:19 21,24) (read more)
At dawn, Venus brings light. Its name is Latin: Lucifer, the bearer of light. In the silence of a time too far away to still hum, Lucifer is at the dawn of our humanity. A star? A sister planet? An ancient goddess? A mothership?
Lucifer is much more. “Already on the ridges of the high Ida stood Lucifer, bringing the day with him; the Danaeans were besieging the gates of the city, and no hope of relief remained. ” (source)
The Daneans are the People of the Goddess Dana, the Tuatha de Danann. They are also called the Peoples of the Sea or Pelasges. As the seeds that germinate in our hearts revive us, the heroes of yesteryear. I have known sowing, you will harvest. Those past days of dreaming in bed will delight you as they come to me. I’ll leave the shore. Tie your boats to my rhymes and rowing.
The etymology of Lucifer has something to surprise since the name comes from the Latin lux which means light and ferrre, wear. Lucifer is therefore the light bearer. Given this significance, it is no wonder that the name was given to Venus by the Romans, as this planet nicknamed morning star is the third brightest object in the sky, after the sun and moon. In addition, this name is found in Roman mythology to designate different goddesses associated with light: Aurora, responsible for opening the doors of the sky to the char of the sun; Hecate, goddess of the moon and Artemis, also related to the moon. (source)
Let us not confuse Mammon and Lucifer. Let us not put light and darkness in the same bag. Esotericism calls Jesus the light-bearer. I call him the invented one. But Lucifer is not an esoteric invention. it is a reality whose brightness we will soon see shine in the northern sky.
I live in the house of the possible. It has more doors and windows than the house of reason.
On the head of this light carrier boy is the radiant diadem of the Statue of Liberty, the work of a French initiate. It is the crown of Sol Invictus, Undefeated Sun. It is the sign of the first Christianity, that of Mithra, the true christ who eclipses a fake copy named Jesus.
Our gods are old, not too clever,
But our Goddess doesn’t care.
Will we be fucked up till the end?
It’s possible. But not certain.
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