Waxing. MA: 8.24

Where does the urge to commit acts of evil come from? The Devil.

Like Satan, whose archetypal scorn is legend, and who spurned satisfaction, perfection, eternity and second place, the nature of evil seeks to forever surpass itself.

Evil is an accumulative insatiable monster – a hideous chilling killer – that always beckons man to take one more step into the creative abominate toward the temptation to revel in the rain of blood. It is an inexorable ancient force that drags those who ally themselves with it, well across the line they drew in the sand for themselves, and seeks to strew them far into the reaches of insane spaces to gibbering darknesses and inbred species of horrific cruelty most have only glimpsed in the white-cold fear that is sometimes possible to experience by phantasms through terrifying dreams. Evil is Older than man, wiser and more cunning – but it is its appetite that defines it.

It is seldom in the name of Evil that acts of evil are performed however and perhaps through the habit of humans to attempt to justify their actions morally – direct attribution to evil is rare. Worship in its name is often secluded to the acolytes of the Prince of Darkness – and the many devils that survived with Him, brought into the New World from the Old World. The Yezidi, Cult of Kali, Witchdoctors, Voodoo, Shamans and Sorcerers, for instance, still occupy pockets on Earth and call directly upon the names of evil, seeking to placate, call down/back, or elicit the powers and ferocity of the Ancient Ones in many guises to hurtle vitriol upon enemies and chattel. Yet it is in the name of mindless and mundane events that Evil is given its most common graces. Seldom called by its true name, evil is the blind idiot god worshipped by proxy through unattributed acts of bovine weakness; through inane or petty jealousies, arguments or excuses, domestic violence, unsatisfied sexual impulses, misunderstandings, envy, anger, pride, love, arrogance and other misgivings of the spirit and flesh. Few homages to Evil are openly proclaimed in these endless acts of worship, yet dark whispers betray and inform.

Accidental Evil:

Accidental evil is the most common of evils – born in the cauldron of mistakes Mothers wish they could reverse – deaths, dishonours and damage they repent causing; sorries they can never give and emotions they can never take back. Their line is clear. They are the cows in life, unblinking servitors whose virtue is their regret in straying from the Dark Shepherd of Hate and following him only short distances. They are controlled in their evil, restrained by their own narcissistic vanity and the prospect of having to face their retribution. They are the quickly angered, the hearts who burn with uncontrolled flames of passion, those who put the heart before the head – the strong bent under their own will by uncharacteristic flashes of intensity that engulf and consume. It is the most common evil because it is the lot of the daily occurrence that comes from great activity and movement in the human as it goes about its life with its fire burning.

Mundane Evil:

Mundane Evil is the second of evils – fields of excruciation ingrained in the static slow-moving anomie of the human race whose love for repetition enables the greatest and most insidious of evils to occur through a lack of empathy with the wider remit, oblivious to the ultimate harvest that comes from the connexions of every action. The mindless paper-pushers, ink- stampers, button-ups, just-doing-my-jobs that cause that sweetest of delights for the Devil – the twisted knife of unnecessary anguishes. The foreclosures, fines, the punishing jargon of legalities, the financial squeezes, the pressures of conformity, the power-trips of bureaucracy, the roundabout chase of keeping everything in place, demanding the impossible. Those who watch on, who deny themselves as pieces on the chess board; these are the souls of mundane evil – for whom fault is a distant dream, and responsibility a pat on the back and some crumbs from the Tabernacle.

Deliberate Evil:

• (Disclaimer: the section marked at the open and close with a red asterix is highly graphic and repulsive, but is nevertheless necessary to accurately communicate the concept of Deliberate Evil in its unrelenting and sickening avarice.)

Deliberate Evil is the rarest of evils. There are few who seek to perform evil and call it by that name. For most people, evil has no name, and in their wicked light they never consider that they nor their acts could be evil, so cleverly justified and convicted are they – they think, surely any other would act the same in their place? Many commit evil, and many call evil by its name, but there are very few whoopenly drag themselves to Hell in a conscious chariot of iniquity. The book of the dead is full of leaders, kings, dictators, tyrants, villains, scourges, murderers, lovers, whose lives ended the lives of many. But in the name of Peace, Justice, Revenge, Honour, Patriotism, Loyalty, Control, Commerce, Acquisition, Passion, Envy, Anger, Country, State, Nation… For something, anything, other than pure evil.

Why so rare? Even a black heart cannot bend to the total will of Evil. No matter what the particular action, regardless of how concentrated and creative, how unspeakable or horrific – it is never enough to sate the aeonic bloodlust of a creature spawned in the first days of man. A Djinn of Death whose face has been the last vision of trillions of lives in a veritable bottomless chasm of blood and trickery. The prevalence of terms such as Absolute/Pure by which the rightly fearful name the nature of evil is itself testament to the rarity of those who pass the hallowed gates of mans limits and become something else altogether.

Pure/Absolute evil does not exist – only stages of witness to its escalation exist. Pure denotes a measure, a limit, a place where evil is at its absolute – where it stops. It is a moral fantasy. Satan’s Kingdom has no limits, nor does it have mercy. There is no point where evil ceases to seek to surpass itself – it does not persist or exist, it is exist-ing – chang-ing – burn-ing – thriv-ing, eternal and eternally, always seeking to exceed itself.

Violence is a vessel of evil – but only a vessel.

*It is not enough to smash a delicate baby’s skull in with the back end of a claw hammer, its father must watch while he is raped. His teeth must be smashed out of his face in splinters and handfuls of his excrement as he loses his bowels force-fed to him. But that is not enough. His mouth must be torn like a zip-lock bag and his throat invaded with meaty handfuls of his loin-fruits and little undeveloped pulsing insides, his violent vomit suppressed and his eyes pricked with pins as he chokes and gags in voiceless horror and helplessness on the slippery sinuous membranes of his own living creation – his infants remains pushed inside him in a sickening display of cold hatred and inhuman disregard for life, mercy, restraint.

But that is not enough. He should be raped by dozens of men, their fat phalluses pushing his broken baby further down his throat, packing his colon with each thrust until his lifeless ragged body loses its form and cocks lose resistance against bone and broken meat. He must be torn limb from limb, urinated and defecated on, his bones snapped, and scraps of his skin peeled off and trampled on the floor. His family should be told they will be let go, promised safety, allowed to leave and then locked in boxes with their hands and feet cut off – or locked in with his corpse and forced to fuck each other for their freedom. Fires should be set and the screams of the burning should be recorded and made into a song to be played for kindergartens and sent to the deceased’s loved ones. They should be buried alive, or burned alive – freed when their skin is like molten jelly to suffer and suffer more than death. They should be eaten alive, cannibalized, consumed, tortured with ice-cold nails driven through their flesh as they lay dying, gasping – holes pricked in them for fun. But that is not enough*.

Evil demands more, MORE, MORE!And its hunger is what many human perceivers fail to understand. It demands ever more clever deceptions to wreak the maximum amount of suffering, of hurt and betrayal – it demands that the victims first be mislead, tricked, coaxed and relaxed and then horribly brutalized. Evil demands elaborate schemes and set-ups, the inward turn of promises that give rosy glows of love, affection, trust and the downward face first spiral into the turgid faeces of realization that one is in a nightmare.

But that is not enough, the victim must think they have a chance to escape to be free, redeemed – to make their humiliation, agony and unbearable disbelief all the sweeter, the act all the more unthinkably evil. But that is not enough – every drop of salvation must be wrung for evil to reward its servitors, evil must endure – bear witness to the clumsy experimentation, the confident horrors of purposeful knowledgable infliction, blowtorches to blacken, pliers to extract, solvents to drink, rapes to endure, beatings to excite, the breaking of little bones, the sobbing, whimpering, screaming, pleading, begging, crying, the break down of the eyes and the glaze of resignation, the destruction of form under the force of ones relentless assaults – the white-hot orgasm of uncontrolled violence against others.

But that is not enough. Mark parts of the body, with hours, so the victim knows the game. Leave unsolvable tasks, ridiculous requests – revel in the defeat and soul crushing confusion of asking the impossible, of abolishing hope. But that is not enough, because it is Never enough. Mental torture, physical torture, hideous games of depravity. There is always more. To feel no remorse, no mercy, no guilt or anything other than hate. To hide the crimes under thin veneers and lies, to cheapen the deaths, or to deal death in denial, patriotism, circumstances – bury the truth under thick conspiracies, lies and falsehoods, to keep them secret and live two lives, or refuse to acknowledge the suffering and those who suffered at all – to refuse to give the lives taken even a breath of thought, a shred of decency or human subjectivity.

Flesh collapses before it can bear such levels of evil. So the killer stalks another, captures a second, rehearses Hell and horrifies Heaven. The pores of their skin stink of blood, their nails harbour flakes of horror, even as they go to church, donate to charity, smile at you as you drop your children off at church. But that is not enough. It is Never Enough.

Evil goads others who kill one or two or even many – and then it leaves them for another willing to ride the dragon further than those before it. It is a force that wants the World. It sleeps with anyone and it will do anything that results in a bigger phallus to ride. Evil takes small sacrifices even though it doesn’t care about them, doesn’t reward them, doesn’t remember them, because it is Evil. It leads men through blood-soaked darkness clawing at their hands and pulling them into travesties, sins, murders, toward perversions, abominations, toward new depths, unknown depths, where depravity lays at the gates like a mangy dog and new species arcane and sick writhe and pulse beyond in the Never – and yet it will stoop to commit petty meaningless acts in the same breath, because it is evil. The effort of the darkest men, regardless of the strength to hold Evils hand as it plunges them backward into the abyss, is always for naught. Sooner or later All men let go. They let go because they simply cannot follow Evil to those places or because they die in its service – It is too hungry, too unfeeling, too ambitious for men to sate, their lives too short to see more than the head of the Dragon. Those handful of mortal souls who have tried to give the World, who have come very close in making it a gift, have been left in utter dejection on learning Evil now wants the Stars – or experienced the ageless ice of betrayal as it abandons one to ones fate. For every evil doer of wicked, abominate deeds – there is always one to come after who will see the yawning gaps where more could have been done, where opportunities were missed through weakness and a weak hand grip that resisted the drag to Hell.

But evil is forgetful, disdainful, indifferent to Today and living only for the ever after Tomorrow. It cares not what you did for it yesterday even if you piled enough skulls to obscure the sun, it craves only the Moment, the Evil Incarnate, not the Evil Incarnated. It is fickle and bears no qualms in severing its loyalties, revoking its gifts, reneging on its promises – changing the sweet melodies of narcissus. It is always a matter of degree – and of those degrees the evil done unto one man is forgotten where the evil done unto men is a hundredfold, and again where evil perpetrated is a thousandfold, and again where that evil spreads its tendrils into the planes and spans the world as a poisonous spider, its fangs dripping with the anticipation of a godless haze of rabid murder. But when the mortal falls, it forgets. It takes time, but it forgets. It always forgets. And yet, even poised at the gate to complete global annihilation, evil undoes its creations just for the sake of any petty act of itself.

Architectural Evil:

For Evil the deed is not the act, it is rather that the Devil is in the details. Evil relishes mindless killings and suffering, violence and sadism – but evil has more in common with creativity and imagination than many admit. It accepts blunt featureless deaths but it presences itself all the more through Architectural Evil – the planning and plotting of Grand Deceits, delicious insidious deceptions played out over days, months, years, lifetimes or Aeons. The salacious pleasantries of the killing face, the elaborate misdirection of diabolic intent, the satanic schemes that crush hundreds of thousands on every front with excruciating patience, sinister deeds that steal and corrupt minds and flesh, set the virtues to burn, brother against brother, nation to war against nation, the vessel upon himself. It is the dance before the decapitation – the light that announces the Shadow.

Architecture is the consummation of Satan, the cosmic fucking of the stars and of the Self – the equivalent of plotting the overthrow of the Perfect, of setting Heaven and its inhabitants to burn in the heat of War – and the ecstasy of pretense. The immolatory flame of the Darkest Prince rises up within when we unleash the Beast – but how that flame loves to dance before it sets the world to burn! How it loves to parade its finery before leading lambs to the slaughter, to preen its wings and gloat in unrivalled vanity as it unveils its sadistic mastery. To revel in concealing its evil deeds, to relate them, savour them, strum them to the slow screaming of the multitude as it delicately pulls the sweet skin off its wickedness to savour the depths of its arrogance, hatred and disregard for all of life and everything that is precious in it including moderation, temperance, restraint.

Evil cannot be controlled – if it can, it is not Evil one is doing but a simulation of off-day good. Evil balks at nothing. Nothing is sacred, nothing is Safe. It shares the meaning of Chaos but it is not without Order. Its meaning and purpose is to multiply – to destroy every vessel that carries it. Ultimately it has no friends, no loyalties, no master, no law. It does not know restraint. It does not know mercy. And it is all that is not. It is the art of the vain-glorious Blood King – the envelopment of the total soul into the black of Hell and the wicked legacy of the Original Genius – of that primal force typified by Satan – Intelligent Evil.

As for the architecture found in the height of virtue, in the karmic lift of samsara and the light of God – their existence could serve only to amplify and illustrate the extreme sovereignty of the Devil even for the evil man. For the evil man is not Evil, will never BE Evil – and forever, forever, forever, just human.

To presence Evil, everyone on the planet must die.

-R. Fortuna