When the ancient advanced beings came to Earth and genetically engineered our human race we regarded them as gods. They could bring us into being but also take us out of being. And of course, there was a bit of thankfulness involved. But the time came when the term "gods" ceased to mean "benefactor or creator" and began to mean "overseer", "task master" or "judge" or even "owner". How many millennia have we spent fighting the injustice of slavery in this world? The scientific probability is that these "gods" were nothing of the sort. They would have used already existing genetic material in order to make a modern human prototype. Very probably, they infused their DNA with that of some pre or proto human type life form inhabiting this planet even before the arrival of the "gods". So these beings did not actually create us. They manipulated us into present form. They are extremely gifted at manipulation of many methods. But they did not create us. That job was done by God (whatever our perception of God may be). Whether it was achieved through nature or random chance collisions of molecules to form the DNA nucleotide, it's still a creative act by some process or being. Our generic term for that process or being is God. Sometimes we mistakenly confuse the ancient term for god or overseer with the modern view of God, the creator, provider, and care giver.
Either you look at it, the ETs did not create us. They may have interfered with nature by jump starting our progress at an extremely accelerated rate. But they did not create us. The hellish thing is we will never know what our own evolution would have been without this alien manipulation. Whatever it would have been, it would have been ours. That has been robbed from us. Frankly, that should enrage us all. It most certainly does me. Would we have been a more peaceful people? Would we have been perhaps less technologically advanced but more compassionate and less selfish? Would we have become more barbaric than we are at present? Would we have died in some mass extermination brought about by nature? We will never know. That was stolen from us along time ago. A god who steals is no god.
In the post Christian era these beings were often referred to as angels or as demons. Were Et's angels? In the very strictest usage of the term, they may have been angels as some were messengers to and from the alien manipulators. In more recent times, angels are care givers and protectors. But unfortunately the favours of these beings tend to cause grief, confusion and disillusionment. Are they demons then? They are not spiritual or ghostly beings. No. These beings are physical.
How DOES ONE, when met by superior technically-enhanced intellectual beings (not necessarily morally higher,) discern how to either capitulate to them, or fight to the last man or woman until the presumed virus has been completely eliminated??? How to resist what we perceive as EVIL?
They are not bevenolent spirit guides or earth guardians, but deceivers with questionable motives.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Suspect
They say the World is controlled by groups of Illuminati. Among these more or less secret societies it exists a competition. Books. The rarer the better. Money is not a hurdle, these people are beyond material possessions. They crave knowledge. And of course…power. “I care not what puppet is placed upon the throne of England to rule the Empire on which the sun never sets. The man that controls Britain´s money supply controls the British Empire”. Ok ok. Don´t get nervous.
Three-rarely seen men control those groups. One is a dealer of rare books who moves around Bruges. The second is a Dane who operates a rare bookshop in the Nyhavn waterfront area in Copenhagen. The third is a Swede, and he too is in the rare book trade. A perfect cover. You are supposed to travel a lot and deal with very special customers.
I don´t know if you have read about these two books I want to point out today.
The first is called “Golf in the year 2000 or What we are coming to”. The author is Jack McCullogh, a Scottish golfer. He might be little remembered as a sportsmen, but his novel is causing a stir. The book was written in 1892. The book has already been compared to those of Nostradamus. It is a tale about a man who falls into a deep sleep in 1892 waking 108 years later. It depicts such things as digital watchers, televisions and women´s equality. Among his predictions, most of them golf-related, were driverless golf carts, professional players and a golf competition between Britain and the United States, much like the Ryder Cup which began in 1927. But also high-speed bullet trains and working women who dressed like men. A visionaire? A crossover? The book was auctioned and already sold.
But my favourite of all times is the so called “Voynich Manuscript”, the most mysterious of all texts. Two hundred pages written in an alphabet that has never been seen elsewhere. Nobody knows what it means. During World War II, some of the top military code-breakers in America tried to decipher it, but failed. It contains the strangest pictures of plants, stars (crop circles style) and nude maidens bathing.
The book collector Wilfrid Voynich found it in a Jesuit College in Villa Mondragone, Italy. It is now in Yale university. It was attributed to Francis Bacon (ahh mon dieu!) It was first bought by Emperor Rudolf II, who moved to a castle in Prague (Bohemia then) and buried himself in esoteric studies. The place was a magnet for people such as John Dee, Edward Kelly, Giordano Bruno (Tristan and I talked about him in our first conversation, I will never forget it) and Kepler.
To this day the Voynich Manuscript resists all efforts of translation. It is either an ingenious hoax or an unbreakable cipher. It is thought that Lovecraft might have used it as the model for his Necronomicon…another amazing Mystery.
Three-rarely seen men control those groups. One is a dealer of rare books who moves around Bruges. The second is a Dane who operates a rare bookshop in the Nyhavn waterfront area in Copenhagen. The third is a Swede, and he too is in the rare book trade. A perfect cover. You are supposed to travel a lot and deal with very special customers.
I don´t know if you have read about these two books I want to point out today.
The first is called “Golf in the year 2000 or What we are coming to”. The author is Jack McCullogh, a Scottish golfer. He might be little remembered as a sportsmen, but his novel is causing a stir. The book was written in 1892. The book has already been compared to those of Nostradamus. It is a tale about a man who falls into a deep sleep in 1892 waking 108 years later. It depicts such things as digital watchers, televisions and women´s equality. Among his predictions, most of them golf-related, were driverless golf carts, professional players and a golf competition between Britain and the United States, much like the Ryder Cup which began in 1927. But also high-speed bullet trains and working women who dressed like men. A visionaire? A crossover? The book was auctioned and already sold.
But my favourite of all times is the so called “Voynich Manuscript”, the most mysterious of all texts. Two hundred pages written in an alphabet that has never been seen elsewhere. Nobody knows what it means. During World War II, some of the top military code-breakers in America tried to decipher it, but failed. It contains the strangest pictures of plants, stars (crop circles style) and nude maidens bathing.
The book collector Wilfrid Voynich found it in a Jesuit College in Villa Mondragone, Italy. It is now in Yale university. It was attributed to Francis Bacon (ahh mon dieu!) It was first bought by Emperor Rudolf II, who moved to a castle in Prague (Bohemia then) and buried himself in esoteric studies. The place was a magnet for people such as John Dee, Edward Kelly, Giordano Bruno (Tristan and I talked about him in our first conversation, I will never forget it) and Kepler.
To this day the Voynich Manuscript resists all efforts of translation. It is either an ingenious hoax or an unbreakable cipher. It is thought that Lovecraft might have used it as the model for his Necronomicon…another amazing Mystery.
Again.....
The music, the moonlight and the dreams are my magic weapons.Not only the music which is played, but also that which is eternally left unplayed. Only the dreams are always what they seem. Isn´t it true that in our dreams we are free? The good dreamer never awakes.
I exist from the beginning...and I have always been and ironist. All of us ironist are harmless, except if you intend to use irony to insinuate the truth. I do not know the truth and I believe my elder brother, the Almighty, does not either. Angels have no sex, so I could never offend you, there are other ways to offend, such as the abominable modern literature and the old age.
How many times have you dreamt of me? Have you never thought of the Charming Prince, the Perfect Man, the inexhaustible lover? Have you never felt by your side, in your dreams, someone who touches you as no one before? That was me, always me, the snake from the beginning of Time. My role is temptation. I had never a childhood, or adolescence and therefore, I never reached the viril age. I am the absolute negative. What you desire and you cannot have. What you dream because it cannot exist. Forever in the throne of Neverland.
Humankind is a pagan kind. They adore gods as if they were amulets. Man only differs from animals because he knows it is not one of them. The ultimate initiation ends with the question of the existence. The highest love is a great dream. Ahh I am a natural poet, because I tell the truth through deceive. All religions are the true one. They are different symbols of the same reality. Zeus or Allah. The nap of a cat in the sun is as pure as the reading of a book. I corrupt but I enlighten. The Bright Morning Star.
The vague aspirations, the futile caprices, the tedium of the vulgar, all of that is my deed. When I lie by the rivers of the abyss and think that I do not know a thing, my thought flows down into the souls of men and they feel different from themselves. I carry memories of things that were never true, but they almost were. But the truth is that I do not exist. And I have been insulted and malignified. And people call me Satan, and the Devil. But I am not the one who faced the God, nor the Spirit who denies. I am the God of Imagination, lost because I cannot believe. And I know you love me. Which man has put his hands on your breasts that was mine? Which kiss were you given that was like mine? In those warm evenings, when you dreamed so much, didn´t you see a dim figure, the one who would give you all the happiness you deserve? The one who would kiss you ad eternum? It was me.
I am the one you have always searched for and you could never find. Deep inside in the Abyss, God himself looks for me so I can complete him. The ring you wear and you love. The joy of that thought, the kind image you see in the mirror...it is not you, it is me.
But the awes that torment men are the same which torment gods...as above, so below. Blessed those who sleep in their animal life.
I exist from the beginning...and I have always been and ironist. All of us ironist are harmless, except if you intend to use irony to insinuate the truth. I do not know the truth and I believe my elder brother, the Almighty, does not either. Angels have no sex, so I could never offend you, there are other ways to offend, such as the abominable modern literature and the old age.
How many times have you dreamt of me? Have you never thought of the Charming Prince, the Perfect Man, the inexhaustible lover? Have you never felt by your side, in your dreams, someone who touches you as no one before? That was me, always me, the snake from the beginning of Time. My role is temptation. I had never a childhood, or adolescence and therefore, I never reached the viril age. I am the absolute negative. What you desire and you cannot have. What you dream because it cannot exist. Forever in the throne of Neverland.
Humankind is a pagan kind. They adore gods as if they were amulets. Man only differs from animals because he knows it is not one of them. The ultimate initiation ends with the question of the existence. The highest love is a great dream. Ahh I am a natural poet, because I tell the truth through deceive. All religions are the true one. They are different symbols of the same reality. Zeus or Allah. The nap of a cat in the sun is as pure as the reading of a book. I corrupt but I enlighten. The Bright Morning Star.
The vague aspirations, the futile caprices, the tedium of the vulgar, all of that is my deed. When I lie by the rivers of the abyss and think that I do not know a thing, my thought flows down into the souls of men and they feel different from themselves. I carry memories of things that were never true, but they almost were. But the truth is that I do not exist. And I have been insulted and malignified. And people call me Satan, and the Devil. But I am not the one who faced the God, nor the Spirit who denies. I am the God of Imagination, lost because I cannot believe. And I know you love me. Which man has put his hands on your breasts that was mine? Which kiss were you given that was like mine? In those warm evenings, when you dreamed so much, didn´t you see a dim figure, the one who would give you all the happiness you deserve? The one who would kiss you ad eternum? It was me.
I am the one you have always searched for and you could never find. Deep inside in the Abyss, God himself looks for me so I can complete him. The ring you wear and you love. The joy of that thought, the kind image you see in the mirror...it is not you, it is me.
But the awes that torment men are the same which torment gods...as above, so below. Blessed those who sleep in their animal life.
Yanking my Heart
And God, that absentee landlord,
does not hate us
though certainly, we're unfit to be
his boon companions.
Rather our lives unruly poems
overdone incomplete
lacking any really original sins.
And what would we do at the
celestial banquet
but drink too much
feel out of place
and wander away from the lights and music
to stand apart taking in huge draughts
of the steadying air
cursing our unworthiness
under the stars
with their terribly human stories of loss.
I thought our past
rooted in mud didn't matter
as long as our blooms
reached the light
like the water-lily,
like water mint
but the rooted mud was stronger
than I ever imagined.
I wish I could say I didn't want
to change you
or any of our moonlit nights
but I did. I wanted to lift the veins
of your life to me.
I am sorry for insisting,
yanking you toward me. I see
your need to go deeper into the bedrock
to find the buried tendons of your life,
that you need to cut
before you conquer
does not hate us
though certainly, we're unfit to be
his boon companions.
Rather our lives unruly poems
overdone incomplete
lacking any really original sins.
And what would we do at the
celestial banquet
but drink too much
feel out of place
and wander away from the lights and music
to stand apart taking in huge draughts
of the steadying air
cursing our unworthiness
under the stars
with their terribly human stories of loss.
I thought our past
rooted in mud didn't matter
as long as our blooms
reached the light
like the water-lily,
like water mint
but the rooted mud was stronger
than I ever imagined.
I wish I could say I didn't want
to change you
or any of our moonlit nights
but I did. I wanted to lift the veins
of your life to me.
I am sorry for insisting,
yanking you toward me. I see
your need to go deeper into the bedrock
to find the buried tendons of your life,
that you need to cut
before you conquer
Matrix
One can almost say that he, who has greeted the morning star, has forever lost the use of his sight and his reason, because he is fascinated by this false light and cast into the abyss…unless, as in your case, a great stroke of fate comes to pull him unexpectedly from the edge of the precipice.
4th density frees one from the illusion of "time" as you WILL to perceive it. Picture driving down a highway, suddenly you notice auras surrounding everything.... Being able to see around corners, going inside little cottages which become mansions, when viewed from inside... Going inside a building in Albuquerque and going out the back door into Las Vegas, going to sleep as a female, and waking up male... Flying in a plane for half an hour and landing at the same place 5 weeks later...
The strongest impression of my early childhood - I was seven years old - an impression of which I still retain a vivid memory, was the emotion aroused in my young heart by the sight of a gothic cathedral. I was immediately enraptured by it. I was in an ecstasy, struck with wonder, unable to tear myself away from the attraction of the marvellous, from the magic of such splendour, such immensity, such intoxication expressed by this more divine than human work
In terms of the myths and stories of the search for the Holy Grail, or, in our modern metaphor, the escape from the Matrix, we see that Perseus killed the sea serpent and married Andromeda. They set off together as a team: righting wrongs, freeing the oppressed, turning the bad guys into stone, and lived, as far as is known, happily ever after.
Thus, as a symbol of gaining Freedom from the Matrix, we find, first, that Perseus is the Hero of choice, and, second, that the dynamics of the only myth that is fully represented in the Sky over our very heads are those which suggest to us our path of “tracking” the clues that will enable each participant to not only cut off the head of their own Medusa, thus releasing the Truth in the form of the Winged Horse, Pegasus, but also, with the aid of this Truth, to participate in the Freeing of Andromeda. I believe that no more important task is before us in the Earth today.
4th density frees one from the illusion of "time" as you WILL to perceive it. Picture driving down a highway, suddenly you notice auras surrounding everything.... Being able to see around corners, going inside little cottages which become mansions, when viewed from inside... Going inside a building in Albuquerque and going out the back door into Las Vegas, going to sleep as a female, and waking up male... Flying in a plane for half an hour and landing at the same place 5 weeks later...
The strongest impression of my early childhood - I was seven years old - an impression of which I still retain a vivid memory, was the emotion aroused in my young heart by the sight of a gothic cathedral. I was immediately enraptured by it. I was in an ecstasy, struck with wonder, unable to tear myself away from the attraction of the marvellous, from the magic of such splendour, such immensity, such intoxication expressed by this more divine than human work
In terms of the myths and stories of the search for the Holy Grail, or, in our modern metaphor, the escape from the Matrix, we see that Perseus killed the sea serpent and married Andromeda. They set off together as a team: righting wrongs, freeing the oppressed, turning the bad guys into stone, and lived, as far as is known, happily ever after.
Thus, as a symbol of gaining Freedom from the Matrix, we find, first, that Perseus is the Hero of choice, and, second, that the dynamics of the only myth that is fully represented in the Sky over our very heads are those which suggest to us our path of “tracking” the clues that will enable each participant to not only cut off the head of their own Medusa, thus releasing the Truth in the form of the Winged Horse, Pegasus, but also, with the aid of this Truth, to participate in the Freeing of Andromeda. I believe that no more important task is before us in the Earth today.
Strategy?
Shaitan...Lucifer...Bringer of Light...
Calculated terrorism. Planned chaos..The goal of terrorism is to create terror and fear. Fear undermines faith in establishment. It weakens the enemy from within, causing unrest in the masses. Terrorist is not an expression of rage. It is a political weapon. Remove a goverment´s façade of infallibility, and you remove its people´s faith.
"You had to attack civilians, the people, women, children, innocent people, unknown people far removed from any political game. The reason was quite simple: to force ... the public to turn to the state to ask for greater security."
This was the essence of Operation Gladio, a decades-long covert campaign of terrorism and deceit directed by the intelligence services of the West, against their own populations. Hundreds of innocent people were killed or maimed in terrorist attacks, on train stations, supermarkets, cafes and offices, which were then blamed on "leftist subversives" or other political opponents. The purpose, as stated above in sworn testimony by Gladio agent Vincenzo Vinciguerra, was to demonize designated enemies and frighten the public into supporting ever-increasing powers for government leaders and their elitist cronies
Gladio was first revealed by Italian prime minister G. Andreotti in 1991, it is still protected by its founding patrons, CIA and M16. Parliamentary investigations are still open to unearth a few fragments of the truth over the years. There is a terrorist summit in Madrid this week... none of the attendees wanted to really make a distinction between "terrorist" groups committing acts of violence and the invented terrorism that is the tool of those who wish to dominate and control through fascist measures.
While not infallible, the ancient Latin question is still the best guide to penetrating the bloody murk of modern terrorism: Cui bono? Who benefits? Whose powers and policies are enhanced by the attack? For it is indisputable that the "strategy of tension" means power and profit for those who claim to possess the key to "security."
Calculated terrorism. Planned chaos..The goal of terrorism is to create terror and fear. Fear undermines faith in establishment. It weakens the enemy from within, causing unrest in the masses. Terrorist is not an expression of rage. It is a political weapon. Remove a goverment´s façade of infallibility, and you remove its people´s faith.
"You had to attack civilians, the people, women, children, innocent people, unknown people far removed from any political game. The reason was quite simple: to force ... the public to turn to the state to ask for greater security."
This was the essence of Operation Gladio, a decades-long covert campaign of terrorism and deceit directed by the intelligence services of the West, against their own populations. Hundreds of innocent people were killed or maimed in terrorist attacks, on train stations, supermarkets, cafes and offices, which were then blamed on "leftist subversives" or other political opponents. The purpose, as stated above in sworn testimony by Gladio agent Vincenzo Vinciguerra, was to demonize designated enemies and frighten the public into supporting ever-increasing powers for government leaders and their elitist cronies
Gladio was first revealed by Italian prime minister G. Andreotti in 1991, it is still protected by its founding patrons, CIA and M16. Parliamentary investigations are still open to unearth a few fragments of the truth over the years. There is a terrorist summit in Madrid this week... none of the attendees wanted to really make a distinction between "terrorist" groups committing acts of violence and the invented terrorism that is the tool of those who wish to dominate and control through fascist measures.
While not infallible, the ancient Latin question is still the best guide to penetrating the bloody murk of modern terrorism: Cui bono? Who benefits? Whose powers and policies are enhanced by the attack? For it is indisputable that the "strategy of tension" means power and profit for those who claim to possess the key to "security."
Brotherhood
I want to know precisely what I mean
When I call you brother.
Are we merely wayfaring companions,
Or is there more to us? Something deeper?
I know that we are seeds of the same fruit,
Travelling along a mysterious road of love.
It horrifies me how much this love is tested
Day after day, to the very edge of reason.
What exactly is expected of us?
Night after night I think about what we are
Praying that someday I shall understand it
And perhaps compose a pledge of brotherhood.
I think that brotherhood is a force field
Raised around true friends.
It is about understanding at the end
Of the day, that we are free spirits,
With distinctive emotional fingerprints
In each eye of our individual minds
The world wears a unique mask.
We walk hand in hand most of the time
But we really follow our own hearts,
And this in itself masquerades
As the spirit of disunity - which it is not.
If only we can understand this
We will re-write alphabets of forgiveness,
And live in peace forever.
To me, brothers are wayfaring companions
On a journey begun at the same point,
At different times, who meet along the way,
In the wild diner off the motorway of life
Where they nurture their unique connection.
True brotherhood amazes and uplifts
Like wind beneath wings of an eagle:
It is about fears and tears fairly shared,
It is about hopes and laughter fondly enjoyed.
It is about hands mutually holding on tight,
Whether cruel storms rage
Or dark unknowns haunt.
Through calm dawns and warm sunrises
Or the injuries of tragedy,
The circle stays rock-solid.
Nothing matters much for too long
Except love.
When I call you brother.
Are we merely wayfaring companions,
Or is there more to us? Something deeper?
I know that we are seeds of the same fruit,
Travelling along a mysterious road of love.
It horrifies me how much this love is tested
Day after day, to the very edge of reason.
What exactly is expected of us?
Night after night I think about what we are
Praying that someday I shall understand it
And perhaps compose a pledge of brotherhood.
I think that brotherhood is a force field
Raised around true friends.
It is about understanding at the end
Of the day, that we are free spirits,
With distinctive emotional fingerprints
In each eye of our individual minds
The world wears a unique mask.
We walk hand in hand most of the time
But we really follow our own hearts,
And this in itself masquerades
As the spirit of disunity - which it is not.
If only we can understand this
We will re-write alphabets of forgiveness,
And live in peace forever.
To me, brothers are wayfaring companions
On a journey begun at the same point,
At different times, who meet along the way,
In the wild diner off the motorway of life
Where they nurture their unique connection.
True brotherhood amazes and uplifts
Like wind beneath wings of an eagle:
It is about fears and tears fairly shared,
It is about hopes and laughter fondly enjoyed.
It is about hands mutually holding on tight,
Whether cruel storms rage
Or dark unknowns haunt.
Through calm dawns and warm sunrises
Or the injuries of tragedy,
The circle stays rock-solid.
Nothing matters much for too long
Except love.
Every time I see the word Thule on a wall under a swastika symbol I wonder if these neo Nazis nerds know what hides behind those five letters.
The Thule Society (Thule Gesselschaft) was the real inspiration of Nazism.
Briefly, the creed of the Thule Society inner circle is as follows: Thule was the capital of a legendary island in the far north, similar to Atlantis, supposedly the centre of a lost, high-level civilization (Hiperboria). But not all secrets of that civilization had been completely wiped out. Those that remained were being guarded by ancient, highly intelligent beings (similar to the "Masters" of Theosophy or the White Brotherhood). The truly initiated could establish contact with these beings by means of magic-mystical rituals. The "Masters" or "Ancients" allegedly would be able to endow the initiated with supernatural strength and energy (Vril). With the help of these energies the goal of the initiated was to create a race of Supermen of "Aryan" stock who would exterminate all "inferior" races.
The current Society has in its archives jewels like these:
Two hundred males, white, Aryan, taller than the brown skinned humans (apish) already here on Earth, crashlanded in a space craft, after being banned to Earth by a powerful Lord. The first thing the boys did was jump ship and have sex with every native they could find. “And the sons of god took the daughters of men for wives”.
These Aryans had and have a not so secret agenda:
We shall poison the relations between the peoples and states of all countries. By envy and hatred, by struggle and warfare, even by spreading hunger, destitution and plagues until their only escape will lie in total submission to our domination.
We are the chosen, we are the true men. Our minds give off the true power of the spirit, the intelligent of the rest is instinctive and animal. Nature herself has predestined us to dominate the whole world.
We shall paint the misdeeds of foreign governments in the most garish colours and create such an ill feeling toward them that the peoples would a thousand times rather bear a slavery which guarantees them peace and order than enjoy their much touted freedom. Outwardly, however, in our official utterances, we shall adopt an opposite procedure and always do our best to appear honourable and cooperative. One day, they will accept us as the benefactors and saviours of the human race.
The thing is, not only Nazi leaders and…more modern politicians (coughs) embraced these ideas. Some of you have surely heard of Nietzsche and John Dee.
John Dee, philosopher to Queen Elisabeth was the founder of the Rosicrucian Order, the protestant response to the Jesuits, alchemist, hermetic and cabalist. He is thought to have put a hex on the Spanish Armada (the nerve!) and he was the one who sold the mysterious Voynich Manuscript to Holy Roman Emperor, Rudolf II. He was the owner of the biggest library in England (more than 4000 books ahhh) and…AND…he claimed to be an angel conjuror using an obsidian show stone and the Enochian Alphabet (British Museum if you are curious).
According to his diary, while crystal gazing, he saw a vision of the angel Uriel (waves!!!), who gave him a convex piece of crystal that would allow communication with the spirit word. The beings tell him interesting things: “Many came and landed on the surface of the globe. Some are like men and women, that is, they resemble women in their front and men in their back. The last seven dance…lick…kiss”. They taught him a special alphabet with unknown names for God or the angels. They told him the importance of Greenland as a gate to other dimensions and the possibility of producing machines which would make all the work for men…
Nietzsche, personally a small, lonely and sickly creature, invented for himself a dreamworld populated by a new set of deities. He felt it was necessary to create a new heaven and a new earth. Trained in the classics, he hoped to re-establish a new set of gods, but not goddesses, who could once again move across the land. His supermen are milk drinkers (ehh??) with the joy of children and extremely refined. Hitler saw in his ideas the core of his philosophy. He became the new Messiah for a country thirsty of gods.
The Thule Society (Thule Gesselschaft) was the real inspiration of Nazism.
Briefly, the creed of the Thule Society inner circle is as follows: Thule was the capital of a legendary island in the far north, similar to Atlantis, supposedly the centre of a lost, high-level civilization (Hiperboria). But not all secrets of that civilization had been completely wiped out. Those that remained were being guarded by ancient, highly intelligent beings (similar to the "Masters" of Theosophy or the White Brotherhood). The truly initiated could establish contact with these beings by means of magic-mystical rituals. The "Masters" or "Ancients" allegedly would be able to endow the initiated with supernatural strength and energy (Vril). With the help of these energies the goal of the initiated was to create a race of Supermen of "Aryan" stock who would exterminate all "inferior" races.
The current Society has in its archives jewels like these:
Two hundred males, white, Aryan, taller than the brown skinned humans (apish) already here on Earth, crashlanded in a space craft, after being banned to Earth by a powerful Lord. The first thing the boys did was jump ship and have sex with every native they could find. “And the sons of god took the daughters of men for wives”.
These Aryans had and have a not so secret agenda:
We shall poison the relations between the peoples and states of all countries. By envy and hatred, by struggle and warfare, even by spreading hunger, destitution and plagues until their only escape will lie in total submission to our domination.
We are the chosen, we are the true men. Our minds give off the true power of the spirit, the intelligent of the rest is instinctive and animal. Nature herself has predestined us to dominate the whole world.
We shall paint the misdeeds of foreign governments in the most garish colours and create such an ill feeling toward them that the peoples would a thousand times rather bear a slavery which guarantees them peace and order than enjoy their much touted freedom. Outwardly, however, in our official utterances, we shall adopt an opposite procedure and always do our best to appear honourable and cooperative. One day, they will accept us as the benefactors and saviours of the human race.
The thing is, not only Nazi leaders and…more modern politicians (coughs) embraced these ideas. Some of you have surely heard of Nietzsche and John Dee.
John Dee, philosopher to Queen Elisabeth was the founder of the Rosicrucian Order, the protestant response to the Jesuits, alchemist, hermetic and cabalist. He is thought to have put a hex on the Spanish Armada (the nerve!) and he was the one who sold the mysterious Voynich Manuscript to Holy Roman Emperor, Rudolf II. He was the owner of the biggest library in England (more than 4000 books ahhh) and…AND…he claimed to be an angel conjuror using an obsidian show stone and the Enochian Alphabet (British Museum if you are curious).
According to his diary, while crystal gazing, he saw a vision of the angel Uriel (waves!!!), who gave him a convex piece of crystal that would allow communication with the spirit word. The beings tell him interesting things: “Many came and landed on the surface of the globe. Some are like men and women, that is, they resemble women in their front and men in their back. The last seven dance…lick…kiss”. They taught him a special alphabet with unknown names for God or the angels. They told him the importance of Greenland as a gate to other dimensions and the possibility of producing machines which would make all the work for men…
Nietzsche, personally a small, lonely and sickly creature, invented for himself a dreamworld populated by a new set of deities. He felt it was necessary to create a new heaven and a new earth. Trained in the classics, he hoped to re-establish a new set of gods, but not goddesses, who could once again move across the land. His supermen are milk drinkers (ehh??) with the joy of children and extremely refined. Hitler saw in his ideas the core of his philosophy. He became the new Messiah for a country thirsty of gods.
Western Sheep
"The crowd neither wants nor seeks knowledge, and the leaders of the crowd, in their own interests, try to strengthen its fear and dislike of everything new and unknown. The slavery in which mankind lives is based upon this fear."
"One thing alone is certain, that man's slavery grows and increases. Man is becoming a willing slave. He no longer needs chains. He begins to grow fond of his slavery, to be proud of it. And this is the most terrible thing that can happen to a man."
And you have created religions, gods, prayers, rituals, out of your dreams, your gods are as much part of your dreams as anything else. Your politics is part of your dreams, your religions are part of your dreams, your poetry, your painting, your art, because you are asleep, you do things according to your own state of mind.
Your gods cannot be different from you. Who will create them? Who will give them shape and colour and form? You create them, you sculpt them; they have eyes like you, noses like you, and minds like you! The Old Testament God says, "I am a very jealous God!" Now who has created this God who is jealous? God cannot be jealous, and if God is jealous then what is wrong in being jealous? If even God is jealous, why should you be thought to be doing something wrong when you are jealous? Jealousy is divine!
The Old Testament God says, "I am a very angry God! If you don´t follow my commandments, I will destroy you. You will be thrown into hellfire for eternity. And because I am very jealous," God says, "don´t worship anybody else. I cannot tolerate it." Who created such a God? It must be out of our own jealousy, out of our own anger, that you have created this image. It is your projection, it is your shadow. It echoes you and nobody else. And the same is the case with all gods of all religions.
It is because of this that Buddha never talked about God. He said, "What is the point of talking about God to people who are asleep? They will listen in their sleep. They will dream about whatsoever is said to them, and they will create their own gods, which will be utterly false, utterly impotent, utterly meaningless. It is better not to have such gods.
I think I prefer to be alone...out of the crowd. Of all the adorable animals in creation, sheep are my least favourite ones. They find their strength within the group and are always ready to shout WOLF WOLF! at anyone who dares think differently.
"One thing alone is certain, that man's slavery grows and increases. Man is becoming a willing slave. He no longer needs chains. He begins to grow fond of his slavery, to be proud of it. And this is the most terrible thing that can happen to a man."
And you have created religions, gods, prayers, rituals, out of your dreams, your gods are as much part of your dreams as anything else. Your politics is part of your dreams, your religions are part of your dreams, your poetry, your painting, your art, because you are asleep, you do things according to your own state of mind.
Your gods cannot be different from you. Who will create them? Who will give them shape and colour and form? You create them, you sculpt them; they have eyes like you, noses like you, and minds like you! The Old Testament God says, "I am a very jealous God!" Now who has created this God who is jealous? God cannot be jealous, and if God is jealous then what is wrong in being jealous? If even God is jealous, why should you be thought to be doing something wrong when you are jealous? Jealousy is divine!
The Old Testament God says, "I am a very angry God! If you don´t follow my commandments, I will destroy you. You will be thrown into hellfire for eternity. And because I am very jealous," God says, "don´t worship anybody else. I cannot tolerate it." Who created such a God? It must be out of our own jealousy, out of our own anger, that you have created this image. It is your projection, it is your shadow. It echoes you and nobody else. And the same is the case with all gods of all religions.
It is because of this that Buddha never talked about God. He said, "What is the point of talking about God to people who are asleep? They will listen in their sleep. They will dream about whatsoever is said to them, and they will create their own gods, which will be utterly false, utterly impotent, utterly meaningless. It is better not to have such gods.
I think I prefer to be alone...out of the crowd. Of all the adorable animals in creation, sheep are my least favourite ones. They find their strength within the group and are always ready to shout WOLF WOLF! at anyone who dares think differently.
Bio-Robots
“Anyone who has the power to make you believe absurdities also has the power to make you commit atrocities."
- Voltaire-
Religion doesn't teach you how to be good, it only teaches you how to pretend to be good.
I have lately been fond of saying religion doesn't help anyone see God, doesn't help anyone connect with the divine or sacred aspects of things, which is just another way of saying that religion ultimately blocks us from appreciating the finer things in life, things that usually can make us happy. The most important is an objective respect for all life. As a consequence, we condemn things that make other people happy. Two random examples that come to mind are love between homosexuals and appreciating people whose skin colour is different from our own. I don't want to veer off into either of those subjects, but I just want to ask what right does any of us have to make judgments on things that are really none of our business.
Aren't kindness and compassion the ultimate currency? When the time comes to die you will think they are, count on it.
Religion creates an archetypal behavioural template for the distribution of misinformation. If people accept religion, they're more likely to embrace authoritarianism, which is why the neocons embrace the evangelicals. Religions belong to the Dark Ages. Ultimately, religious people cannot perceive reality, because they're fogged in by a false template of default auto-suggestions. Also, religion provides them with a license to be irresponsible and duplicitous, because they think they will be "forgiven”
Why the Jewish baby boys are circumcised on the eighth day?
The secret to this lies in the occult knowledge. Levites possess that knowledge. And incidentally, they do not perform circumcision on their own babies, they do that only to their "livestock": the Jews.
During the first eight days only three lower Chakras are developed. All the higher Chakras remain undeveloped in the body of a circumcised Jew. In other words, a circumcised Jew is only half a person, with mutilated soul and brain.
We have all seen that religious Jews wear a skull cap. The meaning of it is very profound, that skull cap covers the highest, seventh human chakra : Sahasrara, which is located at the top of the head. The Jews close it, thus cutting themselves off the Cosmos. Note that the Catholic Pope and the highest catholic priests also carry skull caps. If you try to talk with a circumcised Jew about philosophy, you would encounter such fanaticism, that it would be senseless to continue the conversation. That's what it means to be dealing with a bio-robot!
Chakra of the third eye is not developed among contemporary Europeans, in this respect the Jews are no different from the others. But in ancient times this Chakra was well developed among a much greater percentage of people.
One of the most important human chakras is Anahata (heart). Practically all normal people feel it. Probably every language has an expression, "I can feel it with my heart." And it is true that people can feel many things with their heart. It can feel trouble, suffer, feel pains of conscience, shame, to feel fear, to love, to hate, to feel compassion, pity, to be able to commiserate, to feel good and evil . A person without a developed heart Chakra is rude, compassionless, "heartless."
The trauma of circumcision and religious programming are by no means limited to Jews, for example. On the other hand, is it possible that some ethnic or religious groups have been more targeted by the powers that be? Based on past wars and genocide, which includes the persecution of those considered "too open-minded,the answer is very likely "yes".
- Voltaire-
Religion doesn't teach you how to be good, it only teaches you how to pretend to be good.
I have lately been fond of saying religion doesn't help anyone see God, doesn't help anyone connect with the divine or sacred aspects of things, which is just another way of saying that religion ultimately blocks us from appreciating the finer things in life, things that usually can make us happy. The most important is an objective respect for all life. As a consequence, we condemn things that make other people happy. Two random examples that come to mind are love between homosexuals and appreciating people whose skin colour is different from our own. I don't want to veer off into either of those subjects, but I just want to ask what right does any of us have to make judgments on things that are really none of our business.
Aren't kindness and compassion the ultimate currency? When the time comes to die you will think they are, count on it.
Religion creates an archetypal behavioural template for the distribution of misinformation. If people accept religion, they're more likely to embrace authoritarianism, which is why the neocons embrace the evangelicals. Religions belong to the Dark Ages. Ultimately, religious people cannot perceive reality, because they're fogged in by a false template of default auto-suggestions. Also, religion provides them with a license to be irresponsible and duplicitous, because they think they will be "forgiven”
Why the Jewish baby boys are circumcised on the eighth day?
The secret to this lies in the occult knowledge. Levites possess that knowledge. And incidentally, they do not perform circumcision on their own babies, they do that only to their "livestock": the Jews.
During the first eight days only three lower Chakras are developed. All the higher Chakras remain undeveloped in the body of a circumcised Jew. In other words, a circumcised Jew is only half a person, with mutilated soul and brain.
We have all seen that religious Jews wear a skull cap. The meaning of it is very profound, that skull cap covers the highest, seventh human chakra : Sahasrara, which is located at the top of the head. The Jews close it, thus cutting themselves off the Cosmos. Note that the Catholic Pope and the highest catholic priests also carry skull caps. If you try to talk with a circumcised Jew about philosophy, you would encounter such fanaticism, that it would be senseless to continue the conversation. That's what it means to be dealing with a bio-robot!
Chakra of the third eye is not developed among contemporary Europeans, in this respect the Jews are no different from the others. But in ancient times this Chakra was well developed among a much greater percentage of people.
One of the most important human chakras is Anahata (heart). Practically all normal people feel it. Probably every language has an expression, "I can feel it with my heart." And it is true that people can feel many things with their heart. It can feel trouble, suffer, feel pains of conscience, shame, to feel fear, to love, to hate, to feel compassion, pity, to be able to commiserate, to feel good and evil . A person without a developed heart Chakra is rude, compassionless, "heartless."
The trauma of circumcision and religious programming are by no means limited to Jews, for example. On the other hand, is it possible that some ethnic or religious groups have been more targeted by the powers that be? Based on past wars and genocide, which includes the persecution of those considered "too open-minded,the answer is very likely "yes".
Shot in the Dark
"Truth is a pathless land." Man cannot come to it through any organization, through any creed, through any dogma, priest or ritual, not through any philosophic knowledge or psychological technique. He has to find it through the mirror of relationship, through the understanding of the contents of his own mind, through observation and not through intellectual analysis or introspective dissection. Man has built in himself images as a fence of security -- religious, political, personal. These manifest as symbols, ideas, beliefs. The burden of these images dominates man's thinking, his relationships and his daily life. These images are the causes of our problems for they divide man from man. His perception of life is shaped by the concepts already established in his mind. The content of his consciousness is his entire existence. This content is common to all humanity. The individuality is the name, the form and superficial culture he acquires from tradition and environment. The uniqueness of man does not lie in the superficial but in complete freedom from the content of his consciousness, which is common to all mankind. So he is not an individual.
Freedom is not a reaction; freedom is not choice. It is man's pretence that because he has choice, he is free. Freedom is pure observation without direction, without fear of punishment and reward. Freedom is without motive; freedom is not at the end of the evolution of man but lies in the first step of his existence. In observation one begins to discover the lack of freedom. Freedom is found in the choiceless awareness of our daily existence and activity.
Time is the psychological enemy of man. Our action is based on knowledge and therefore time, so man is always a slave to the past.
Total negation is the essence of the positive. When there is negation of all those things that thought has brought about psychologically, only then is there love, which is compassion and intelligence
Do you know the legend of that angel who was ordered to come down to Earth and guard the gates of Paradise? He was a good angel and did what he was told to do. He remained here for years, then centuries, then ages...until he forgot the very reason of his existence. He forgot he was light, he forgot his very nature and became what he and his Lord most feared. Humans down here invented names for such a hideous creature, as he had to be hideous if he prevented them from reaching Paradise. They were poisoned with myths of Ascention and the Metatron, the highest of all angels as he had been a man before, Enoch, the one who had been chosen, elevated, transformed...and all the while poor Uriel watched the creatures he was supposed to control and loneliness turned him into the monster who filled every nightmare. He raised his gaze towards the house of his Lord and could not remember the colours, the sounds, the beauty of his brothers and sisters in light. And one day, tired of frightening humans and beasts with his thundering voice he lay still by the Nameless Lake and he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the waters. His smile brought tears to his eyes. He thought there was someone else there with him...a companion, someone to share his knowledge and the history of humankind with, he spent the rest of his days looking for this ethereal creature...oblivious to men´s attempts to reach the gates of Light, searching, seeking with his heart full of joy and hope. He would not be alone anymore.
Free of the guardian, men tried to recover their inner divine spark harder than ever. Women became mothers, shepherds rescued stranded lambs, masons built cathedrals, engineers devised metropolis and rockets, poets and philosophers made humans think of a new way and artists created beauty from nothingness.
But all of them were deceived.
Among them, the ones with the most ilusory dreams were the race of the dancers. They tried to jump upwards pretending to be angels.When in fact, only jumping downwards could they be nearer God.
Freedom is not a reaction; freedom is not choice. It is man's pretence that because he has choice, he is free. Freedom is pure observation without direction, without fear of punishment and reward. Freedom is without motive; freedom is not at the end of the evolution of man but lies in the first step of his existence. In observation one begins to discover the lack of freedom. Freedom is found in the choiceless awareness of our daily existence and activity.
Time is the psychological enemy of man. Our action is based on knowledge and therefore time, so man is always a slave to the past.
Total negation is the essence of the positive. When there is negation of all those things that thought has brought about psychologically, only then is there love, which is compassion and intelligence
Do you know the legend of that angel who was ordered to come down to Earth and guard the gates of Paradise? He was a good angel and did what he was told to do. He remained here for years, then centuries, then ages...until he forgot the very reason of his existence. He forgot he was light, he forgot his very nature and became what he and his Lord most feared. Humans down here invented names for such a hideous creature, as he had to be hideous if he prevented them from reaching Paradise. They were poisoned with myths of Ascention and the Metatron, the highest of all angels as he had been a man before, Enoch, the one who had been chosen, elevated, transformed...and all the while poor Uriel watched the creatures he was supposed to control and loneliness turned him into the monster who filled every nightmare. He raised his gaze towards the house of his Lord and could not remember the colours, the sounds, the beauty of his brothers and sisters in light. And one day, tired of frightening humans and beasts with his thundering voice he lay still by the Nameless Lake and he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the waters. His smile brought tears to his eyes. He thought there was someone else there with him...a companion, someone to share his knowledge and the history of humankind with, he spent the rest of his days looking for this ethereal creature...oblivious to men´s attempts to reach the gates of Light, searching, seeking with his heart full of joy and hope. He would not be alone anymore.
Free of the guardian, men tried to recover their inner divine spark harder than ever. Women became mothers, shepherds rescued stranded lambs, masons built cathedrals, engineers devised metropolis and rockets, poets and philosophers made humans think of a new way and artists created beauty from nothingness.
But all of them were deceived.
Among them, the ones with the most ilusory dreams were the race of the dancers. They tried to jump upwards pretending to be angels.When in fact, only jumping downwards could they be nearer God.
YOU!
Just me in the corner... using cinnamon to cover my sin
burned from the within
fear and lust are crawling
underneath my skin
Sparkling tear
sprung from my indefatigable eye
though persistent and tough
covered up by the pouring rain,
in perfect silence I cry
The reflection of your soul
dormant in your restless eyes
warms my heart and lights my mind
but I'm compelled to close my eyes
before the true beauty of your conscience,
the blossoming virility of your being,
the illuminating light that shines from within,
before they blind me with your magnificence...
I find myself floating over the trees
in transcendent harmony
united with heaven
and unfallen angels
But then lightning strikes
and I crash down bleeding,
fallen again
thunder in my head
you say goodbye and walk out of sight
you leave me lost in a strange place
alone for a few days
but I don't feel the pain
because your smile anaesthetised me
So I fly home again
longing for the next smile from your sweet lips,
the next touch of your satin hands,
the next opportunity to look at you
stare into your eyes
forget about the world
and only see the stars
admire your perfect skin, your perfect body
dream life away
for the rest of the day
And you don't suspect
that I'm watching you closely
memorizing your every move
You don't suspect
that I think about you constantly
that I lie awake at night
missing you
You don't suspect
how much I have always loved you
and I just can't begin to tell you
how much I love you today
how much I'll love you tomorrow
or forever, until the end of time
But every raindrop in the river,
every teardrop by the lake,
every fallen leaf,
every song of the nightingale
and every petal of the rose,
every flame of every candle
it has all been for you
And the warmth of the bonfire
cannot even measure
the warmth you bring to my heart
and all the stars in outer space
can't live up to the light you bring to my life
When you say nothing at all
you make me happier than I've ever been
just by living
just by being all that you are...
You are there
and that's enough
to lift me up
and ease the pain of being
just a fallen angel...
burned from the within
fear and lust are crawling
underneath my skin
Sparkling tear
sprung from my indefatigable eye
though persistent and tough
covered up by the pouring rain,
in perfect silence I cry
The reflection of your soul
dormant in your restless eyes
warms my heart and lights my mind
but I'm compelled to close my eyes
before the true beauty of your conscience,
the blossoming virility of your being,
the illuminating light that shines from within,
before they blind me with your magnificence...
I find myself floating over the trees
in transcendent harmony
united with heaven
and unfallen angels
But then lightning strikes
and I crash down bleeding,
fallen again
thunder in my head
you say goodbye and walk out of sight
you leave me lost in a strange place
alone for a few days
but I don't feel the pain
because your smile anaesthetised me
So I fly home again
longing for the next smile from your sweet lips,
the next touch of your satin hands,
the next opportunity to look at you
stare into your eyes
forget about the world
and only see the stars
admire your perfect skin, your perfect body
dream life away
for the rest of the day
And you don't suspect
that I'm watching you closely
memorizing your every move
You don't suspect
that I think about you constantly
that I lie awake at night
missing you
You don't suspect
how much I have always loved you
and I just can't begin to tell you
how much I love you today
how much I'll love you tomorrow
or forever, until the end of time
But every raindrop in the river,
every teardrop by the lake,
every fallen leaf,
every song of the nightingale
and every petal of the rose,
every flame of every candle
it has all been for you
And the warmth of the bonfire
cannot even measure
the warmth you bring to my heart
and all the stars in outer space
can't live up to the light you bring to my life
When you say nothing at all
you make me happier than I've ever been
just by living
just by being all that you are...
You are there
and that's enough
to lift me up
and ease the pain of being
just a fallen angel...
From Heaven's Gate
Free to come and go, to do whatever you pleased
And I alone, my soul on fire
I stopped eating
To burn my resentment
The body starving, the mind in a beautiful peace
They proclaimed my death your penance
And you vowed love had no place in this world
Or in your heart
Forever more
I watched from heaven´s gate as you cursed your god
Not caring that so many, including you,
Would suffer for my leaving, for I was gone.
But death, though robbing one of sight
Does not rob one of insight
On the contrary, it grants it exquisitely
And I finally saw how truly you had loved me
Your suffering and mine had been the same
From that holy place I watched
As you starved then too
Though your body lived on,
Your beauty and power
forged into an exquisite instrument of vengeance
king of seduction
negligent master of the souls who willingly surrendered to you
And now…generations later
Your black hunger and my white pain are destined to meet again.
Your hunger and rage made you a monster
My pain has made me mad
And both must find an end
Your hunger was a noble thing,
A desire to absorb everything that Is
In order to understand, to name,
to build sacred castles in a world
well-ordered by your mind´s bright gaze.
My passions were made to float those castles
Above the chaotic margins of the world
And ordain harmony among all beings
We have made a sordid tradition of our obsession,
Pretended it was glorious
Learned to smile while kissing pain.
This is not love beloved,
It is insane.
And I wonder
When you come for me…
Will it be to destroy
Or to reach out and hold me against you
Until we both rise from the ashes of our pain
And together build a world
Forever free of suffering and vengeance
Inherent in the terrible dance of masters with their slaves?
Link
Maybe she will like poetry as well? [Jun. 8th, 2005|09:23 am]
[ Current Mood | cynical ]
[ Current Music | another photo and I will scream! ]
Two lovers who fell into tragedy
Unable to hold on to delicate words
A web of lies others carefully weave
Corrupt the weakest who will no longer believe
A tale of deception to be told for the deprived
There is some truth in lies I once was told
One lover who fell into agony
Unable to revive forgotten feelings
When there are doubts of so many flings
A trust no longer present to bond
Replaced by words of betrayal to hurt
There is some truth in lies I once heard
One lover who fell into fury
Unable to feel what was once there
Clouded by the hurtful despair
A love believed to be so strong
Falling apart for the world to witness
There is some truth in lies I once thought
One single lie which fell into place
Able to break two lovers so easily
Two hearts who gave up so hastily
Never to hear their laughter in the background
There is some truth in lies being told
Only the innocent lovers fail to see the truth…
And I alone, my soul on fire
I stopped eating
To burn my resentment
The body starving, the mind in a beautiful peace
They proclaimed my death your penance
And you vowed love had no place in this world
Or in your heart
Forever more
I watched from heaven´s gate as you cursed your god
Not caring that so many, including you,
Would suffer for my leaving, for I was gone.
But death, though robbing one of sight
Does not rob one of insight
On the contrary, it grants it exquisitely
And I finally saw how truly you had loved me
Your suffering and mine had been the same
From that holy place I watched
As you starved then too
Though your body lived on,
Your beauty and power
forged into an exquisite instrument of vengeance
king of seduction
negligent master of the souls who willingly surrendered to you
And now…generations later
Your black hunger and my white pain are destined to meet again.
Your hunger and rage made you a monster
My pain has made me mad
And both must find an end
Your hunger was a noble thing,
A desire to absorb everything that Is
In order to understand, to name,
to build sacred castles in a world
well-ordered by your mind´s bright gaze.
My passions were made to float those castles
Above the chaotic margins of the world
And ordain harmony among all beings
We have made a sordid tradition of our obsession,
Pretended it was glorious
Learned to smile while kissing pain.
This is not love beloved,
It is insane.
And I wonder
When you come for me…
Will it be to destroy
Or to reach out and hold me against you
Until we both rise from the ashes of our pain
And together build a world
Forever free of suffering and vengeance
Inherent in the terrible dance of masters with their slaves?
Link
Maybe she will like poetry as well? [Jun. 8th, 2005|09:23 am]
[ Current Mood | cynical ]
[ Current Music | another photo and I will scream! ]
Two lovers who fell into tragedy
Unable to hold on to delicate words
A web of lies others carefully weave
Corrupt the weakest who will no longer believe
A tale of deception to be told for the deprived
There is some truth in lies I once was told
One lover who fell into agony
Unable to revive forgotten feelings
When there are doubts of so many flings
A trust no longer present to bond
Replaced by words of betrayal to hurt
There is some truth in lies I once heard
One lover who fell into fury
Unable to feel what was once there
Clouded by the hurtful despair
A love believed to be so strong
Falling apart for the world to witness
There is some truth in lies I once thought
One single lie which fell into place
Able to break two lovers so easily
Two hearts who gave up so hastily
Never to hear their laughter in the background
There is some truth in lies being told
Only the innocent lovers fail to see the truth…
Our Records
It is no exaggeration to state that the computer has transformed (and is still in the process of transforming) the entire planet. No segment of modern society has gone unaffected. The amount of information now stored in computer memory and crossing the Internet highway daily is literally unfathomable. And yet, this vast complex of computer systems and collective databases cannot begin to come close to the power, the memory, or the omniscient recording capacity of the Akashic Records-
The Akashic Records or "The Book of Life" can be equated to the universe's super computer system. It is this system that acts as the central storehouse of all information for every individual who has ever lived upon the earth. More than just a reservoir of events, the Akashic Records contain every deed, word, feeling, thought, and intent that has ever occurred at any time in the history of the world. Much more than simply a memory storehouse, however, these Akashic Records are interactive in that they have a tremendous influence upon our everyday lives, our relationships, our feelings and belief systems, and the potential realities we draw toward us. This is the Karma that modern day wiccans wrongly talk about.
The Akashic Records contain the entire history of every soul since the dawn of Creation. These records connect each one of us to one another. They contain the stimulus for every archetypal symbol or mythic story which has ever deeply touched patterns of human behavior and experience. They have been the inspiration for dreams and invention. They draw us toward or repel us from one another. They mold and shape levels of human consciousness. They are a portion of Divine Mind. They are the unbiased judge and jury that attempt to guide, educate, and transform every individual to become the very best that she or he can be. They embody an ever-changing fluid array of possible futures that are called into potential as we humans interact and learn from the data that has already been accumulated.
Information about these Akashic Records – this Book of Life – can be found in folklore, in myth, and throughout the Old and New Testaments. It is traceable at least as far back as the Semitic peoples and includes the Arabs, the Assyrians, the Phoenicians, the Babylonians, and the Hebrews. Among each of these peoples was the belief that there was in existence some kind of celestial tablets which contained the history of humankind as well as all manner of spiritual information. I learned about them thanks to my only master Rudolf Steiner. You can have access to this super computer through regular meditation, and when you find them, there between the forth and fifth levels of the Subsconcious Mind, you can never be cheated again. You see through people like an open book and you understand the reason and motivation after every lie, every truth, every search and every need.
We are all the same...we are only in different segments of the same road, those ahead should push the others behind, not laugh at their little mistakes and endless falls because WE WERE THERE BEFORE.
The Akashic Records or "The Book of Life" can be equated to the universe's super computer system. It is this system that acts as the central storehouse of all information for every individual who has ever lived upon the earth. More than just a reservoir of events, the Akashic Records contain every deed, word, feeling, thought, and intent that has ever occurred at any time in the history of the world. Much more than simply a memory storehouse, however, these Akashic Records are interactive in that they have a tremendous influence upon our everyday lives, our relationships, our feelings and belief systems, and the potential realities we draw toward us. This is the Karma that modern day wiccans wrongly talk about.
The Akashic Records contain the entire history of every soul since the dawn of Creation. These records connect each one of us to one another. They contain the stimulus for every archetypal symbol or mythic story which has ever deeply touched patterns of human behavior and experience. They have been the inspiration for dreams and invention. They draw us toward or repel us from one another. They mold and shape levels of human consciousness. They are a portion of Divine Mind. They are the unbiased judge and jury that attempt to guide, educate, and transform every individual to become the very best that she or he can be. They embody an ever-changing fluid array of possible futures that are called into potential as we humans interact and learn from the data that has already been accumulated.
Information about these Akashic Records – this Book of Life – can be found in folklore, in myth, and throughout the Old and New Testaments. It is traceable at least as far back as the Semitic peoples and includes the Arabs, the Assyrians, the Phoenicians, the Babylonians, and the Hebrews. Among each of these peoples was the belief that there was in existence some kind of celestial tablets which contained the history of humankind as well as all manner of spiritual information. I learned about them thanks to my only master Rudolf Steiner. You can have access to this super computer through regular meditation, and when you find them, there between the forth and fifth levels of the Subsconcious Mind, you can never be cheated again. You see through people like an open book and you understand the reason and motivation after every lie, every truth, every search and every need.
We are all the same...we are only in different segments of the same road, those ahead should push the others behind, not laugh at their little mistakes and endless falls because WE WERE THERE BEFORE.
MANIFESTO
We are members of the new generation, Generation E, who are banding together in the name of protecting those things we hold dear: freedom, joy, beauty, and true happiness. These things are in danger and we come to answer their call by building a firm foundation with steadfast members in the name of everyone who has a heart and mind to still enjoy them. We are known by our passion and ability to say what we want to say and the quick beat of our heart when we know and understand our voices are being heard.
We accept that there is an apathetic resistance to our voices within the generation itself and that we have been penalized for our belligerent nature since our early teens. But, we know that it is not the unmovable ways with which we speak that has birthed us such a reputation, but our boisterous passion for speaking of life, truth, and for love. We will not accept that these feelings are based upon teenage angst, or upon the fatal mixture of arrogance and ignorance.
We will not accept another bloody lash on our back, another biting word that tells us that we can't, or another person discarding us like so much trash if we don't conform to what they call standards. We will no longer accept that we are alone and we will no longer be without direction. We will, as a whole, join the free thinkers in history that have refused to accept the sorrows of the world and found a way to change them! As a whole, we will stand tall as our enemies realize they were wrong and they hold the broken chains that once bound us. Know us and fear, conformity. Shiver in dread as you clutch in vain to your holdings and realize we are picking away at your tower, molding it and making anew. We are here with our weapons of knowledge and voice and numbers, and we understand the beauty of diversified thought.
We share a thirst for self sufficiency that separates us from you, even if we find enemies in our own generation. We bind our own books, make our own paper, and hunt and forage our own food. We build, we paint, we barter, we tailor, and we create and sustain loving communities. We're hotheaded, si, but we're passionate, and our voices will resonate in the cities and towns we gather. We stand bruise-knuckled and moonlit with our teeth flashing in the night; our feet numb in the frozen, dewy grass that just a season before held our naked bodies as we made love and grasped sweaty passions that no one but we could ever understand. We've cooked feasts for one another and for total strangers and dined, and drank, saying toasts to warrior poets of the past and present.
This is not just about enemies, systems, or politics. This is about warfare. This is about every single battle. This is about the reclamation of true beauty. We carry our lovers with us when their long hairs commingle with yarn in our scarves. We represent thousands of miles when we wear patchwork pants crafted from the clothes of a dozen wild hearts that walked from coast to coast. We will wait, then, for the sound of the trumpet. For when it plays, on that day when beauty can truly reign again, you will know us for what we are, and we will conquer you and burn you out. And this hunt, and this war, may finally be over so that our new world may rise to take its first free breath.
Our enemies are the lethargic: those without direction that refuse direction. Those that wallow in pity and believe the world owes them something. They who refuse to do anything more than gorge themselves on the bloody milk of the world while staying blind to the issues that surround them. They who hold to their double standards, thinking their double thoughts, and complaining about their nine to five while accepting with a sigh that nothing could ever be changed or that no one would ever want to change it.
We've cried alone in open fields under a vast collection of stars with our knees moist from the soil and our faces wet with disbelief. So then hail to primal thought! Hail then, too, intellectualism! Hail, too, oil on canvas! Hail your sweat as you defend your dying ways against us! This is an affirmation that your system has ended and ours has already begun! Our passion, perception, and grip upon our simplistic pleasures will pierce you as the sunlight pierces the undead. We will bring our stories, and the words of our aspirations and dreams, so that we may greet one another as what we truly are, brothers and sisters.
We accept that there is an apathetic resistance to our voices within the generation itself and that we have been penalized for our belligerent nature since our early teens. But, we know that it is not the unmovable ways with which we speak that has birthed us such a reputation, but our boisterous passion for speaking of life, truth, and for love. We will not accept that these feelings are based upon teenage angst, or upon the fatal mixture of arrogance and ignorance.
We will not accept another bloody lash on our back, another biting word that tells us that we can't, or another person discarding us like so much trash if we don't conform to what they call standards. We will no longer accept that we are alone and we will no longer be without direction. We will, as a whole, join the free thinkers in history that have refused to accept the sorrows of the world and found a way to change them! As a whole, we will stand tall as our enemies realize they were wrong and they hold the broken chains that once bound us. Know us and fear, conformity. Shiver in dread as you clutch in vain to your holdings and realize we are picking away at your tower, molding it and making anew. We are here with our weapons of knowledge and voice and numbers, and we understand the beauty of diversified thought.
We share a thirst for self sufficiency that separates us from you, even if we find enemies in our own generation. We bind our own books, make our own paper, and hunt and forage our own food. We build, we paint, we barter, we tailor, and we create and sustain loving communities. We're hotheaded, si, but we're passionate, and our voices will resonate in the cities and towns we gather. We stand bruise-knuckled and moonlit with our teeth flashing in the night; our feet numb in the frozen, dewy grass that just a season before held our naked bodies as we made love and grasped sweaty passions that no one but we could ever understand. We've cooked feasts for one another and for total strangers and dined, and drank, saying toasts to warrior poets of the past and present.
This is not just about enemies, systems, or politics. This is about warfare. This is about every single battle. This is about the reclamation of true beauty. We carry our lovers with us when their long hairs commingle with yarn in our scarves. We represent thousands of miles when we wear patchwork pants crafted from the clothes of a dozen wild hearts that walked from coast to coast. We will wait, then, for the sound of the trumpet. For when it plays, on that day when beauty can truly reign again, you will know us for what we are, and we will conquer you and burn you out. And this hunt, and this war, may finally be over so that our new world may rise to take its first free breath.
Our enemies are the lethargic: those without direction that refuse direction. Those that wallow in pity and believe the world owes them something. They who refuse to do anything more than gorge themselves on the bloody milk of the world while staying blind to the issues that surround them. They who hold to their double standards, thinking their double thoughts, and complaining about their nine to five while accepting with a sigh that nothing could ever be changed or that no one would ever want to change it.
We've cried alone in open fields under a vast collection of stars with our knees moist from the soil and our faces wet with disbelief. So then hail to primal thought! Hail then, too, intellectualism! Hail, too, oil on canvas! Hail your sweat as you defend your dying ways against us! This is an affirmation that your system has ended and ours has already begun! Our passion, perception, and grip upon our simplistic pleasures will pierce you as the sunlight pierces the undead. We will bring our stories, and the words of our aspirations and dreams, so that we may greet one another as what we truly are, brothers and sisters.
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