CRYSTALS & SINISTER EGREGORE
by Fraternitas Loki (circa 1997)

Artifacts of ‘magickal’ significance in the occult are practical tools – or at least they can be. They are not practical in the old aeon sense of summoning up demons, or suddenly gifting the practitioner with powers: a judaeo-christian concept to escape reality, turn one’s back on the real world of nature and cosmic struggle and hiding in a fantasy of abstract philosophy. On the other hand, those who have begun to liberate their psyche from the old aeon, live a life in harmony with nature and the precepts of the Order, and constantly seek to transform their life and attain realisation of their potential may be ready to use crystals and other materials for real magick.

That is once a certain state of being is reached (and this takes time, effort, hard-work, training, study, strenuous harmonization and improvement of body-spirit-mind including re-visualisation for a zestful living) then it becomes natural to have in one possession for the dialectic of magick (that is participating in The Great Work) in association with others who have also reached a modicum self evolution – which is an ongoing process and must never be confused with artificial occult title of adept, master etc). These items are usually themselves natural and  usually come via one of several direct.

Via one’s Lodge/Order with which one is allied for self evolution in natural symbiosis of creative dialectic (Hidden Alchemy).

Obtained by oneself in a certain numinous site whilst on Expedition with comrades.

Found or discovered accidentally in one’s life or pathway.

Procured from actual sacred sites (e.g. ancient or Hyperborean).

Really effective magickal items are never bought in a shop, (there are exceptions: e.g. a suitable neck medallion of one’s totem or deity which is then ‘charged’ in a sinister rite with one’s Teacher). For those who live outside the Albo-Eriu lands the only effective way is via 1 above. However before requesting any such item be aware of its significance and be aware of your need/reasons for it. Be also aware that a bond exists between you, it and its origins (i.e.: (a) the sacred site blood/energy, (b) the Order Tradition to which you have dedicated yourself for the Folk, the Aeon and self-evolution). This bond is eternal, and forms part of the matrix for the aeon itself.

There are several artifact materials for [titles redacted] (OJB also has its range of items), e.g. wood, pebble, slate, charcoal. But one of the most significant is: Quartz, available to members of the OJB and FL from the region of one of the sites of The Ten Ringed Path either as rough lumps for altar work or burial/ritual or as small pieces for personal use/neck etc. It is highly charged.

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Il Disprezzo Della Bella Morte: #13012025V2XPT

The Practice of Dying

The end. Everything has an end. There is nothing left to do or say. No where to go. The end should have meaning, but does it? Is it just the conclusion of what was preceded by it?

Death is the end of life, defined simply. Does this mean it is a part of life? When all of the boxes are checked off of a list, will we find the checking off of those boxes is a feature of the list? It is not, the list is already completed. Just as making a list is a stage (pre) and finishing a list is also a stage (post). N-Geshtug [1] rightly situates death outside of the system.

We should perceive death as a mere illusion, an insignificant end to our causal journey. The true significance lies in how we seize the opportunities offered by this life. Unbound by the fear of death, we defy it, as we defy our current limitations and the mundane restrictions of society through Architectural Evil [2]. We aspire to transcend these confines and embrace a more profound, numinous existence.

It is the way that we go about checking off the list, which holds the meaning. Not just the deed, but the spirit within it. The pursuit of an Epicurian ethos only strives on a mundane level. The practice of ataraxia is at best a waste of vitality. An abandonment of the sensatory and the natural order.

The Children of Mars can never know tranquility or equanimity, but for breaking moments. It is not the way of Gaia. It is a psuedo-apathy and conjuring of delusional ascetic practice perpetrated by ‘holy’ or ‘learned’ men. Snake oil salesmen peddling more psuedo-apathy, and more wasted vitality.

The Denial of Death

Nythra is coming to all. With it, the completion of all attainable worldly wisdom. Beyond is the liberation of non-knowing, the unawaking of nothingness, and genuine dark apathy. Beyond lies the Great Absence. Horrifyingly foreign, an alien presence to the mortal essence.

Within the Bawrn, there lurks a dark apathy to it. Unlike the cowardly magian and puritan impulse of dwelling in terror. The utility of coping mechanisms at some levels of the psyche can pacify the stark horror, but somewhere deep within there’s a monster awaiting. An inescapable reality that the end is always nigh. Those squanderers of esse are nakedly wretched and undeserving of death.

Death remains indifferent to them. Reaping what is sown without prejudice of ripe or rot. The permeation of the odorous Great Demon is afoul with the wishcaster’s cries. The season is over. The gate forever sealed.

The Japanese have a proverb: “Hana wa sakuragi, hito wa bushi”, it means the best blossom is the cherry blossom, the best man is the warrior. The warrior like the cherry blossom falls in it’s most beautiful moment. Unlike the current Western culture, this encapsulates a right understanding of life and death.

“The moment the individual succeeds in living as a hero, even if it is the final moment of his earthly life, weighs infinitely more on the scale of values than a protracted existence spent consuming monotonously among the trivialities of cities.” Julius Evola – Metaphysics of War

Petals On The Wind : A Fate Worse Than Death

Death is the ultimate freedom. According to Plato death is not the worst that can happen to men. There can be no more suffering and strife at it’s conclusion. Which makes the wishing of death upon your enemy wasted energy. The honour of dying should be reserved for the worthy.

Retribution demands a pot in which to stew. A suffering tenfold, the equal measure. Trading an eye for an eye, leaves one eye for the scoundrelly to take their next aim. Stab out both eyes, the ears, and sever the fingers. Make it so harsh of an example, that none should move against you without the willingness to grant you a beautiful death.

A bountiful offering to the Ukade [3].

Meager men cannot approach the Great Unknowing or comprehend the unraveling of the mortal coil. Such hubris is a life spent in squander and laziness. Impotent and wretchedly useless, never taking stakes beyond the “sure thing”. Paralyzed by the thought of experiencing the full weight of their own insignificance.

Ukade will consume all in a vortex   of self-made designs. The true practice of dying, therefore, lies not in passive acceptance but in active engagement. It is about living with such intensity, such purpose, that death itself becomes an anticlimax. It is about leaving a mark on the world, a legacy that will outlast one’s own mortal coil. It is about defying the limitations of existence, pushing the boundaries of human potential, and ultimately, transcending the very concept of death itself.

This is not about achieving some ethereal state of nirvana or seeking oblivion. It is about embracing the chaos, the uncertainty, the very essence of existence itself. It is about living with a fierce, uncompromising spirit, a spirit that acknowledges the inevitability of death but refuses to be defined by it. The end may be inevitable, but the journey towards it can be extraordinary. It is in this journey, in the relentless pursuit of excellence, in the constant striving for something greater than oneself, that true meaning resides.





Footnotes:



[1] N-Geshtug – an in-born trait (in some) that allows the correct perceiving of the acausal and the physis of beings. Also said to attract acausal beings.

[2] Architectural Evil – the planning and plotting of Grand Deceits, delicious insidious deceptions played out over days, months, years, lifetimes or Aeons. (qv. Sahrut part II)

[3] Ukade – The “Anti-god” of the khult, considered the precipice of acausal consciousness and the evolutionary goal of the Khultist. Depicted as a large man-eating centipede that disguises itself as the rings of Saturn until revealed.

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Sahrut (Part II) : Promethean Thesis IX

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

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The Currents of Wyrd

Wyrd is an odd word, it looks like “word” and sounds like “weird”. Yet… Wyrd is the underlying fabric of the Nine Worlds and one of the central concepts of Druwydry. The rudimentary definition is something like “the course of events” or ” The Cosmic Fates”. A more intuitive understanding might be “what is to come”. In Druwydry, Wyrd represents the powerful currents of influence that control how events unfold in linear time. It is possible to displace the flow of Wyrd that is revealed through a specific alignment of The Mastery and Deed.

A Self-Centric Eye (the Master I)

Every Western institution over the past 100 years has been designed to manufacture “sleepers” that obey. This happens because the Magians and Puritans idealize putting others above ourselves. This is a monumental err. Literally putting the cart before the horse and then putting full cup blinkers on it. Selflessness benefits none in the long term and only benefits opportunistically in the short term.

Deep down, everyone knows this is true. Self-centrism is extremely frowned upon, yet everyone practices it and dresses it up in the disguise of selflessness. By becoming self-centric, you begin to pay attention and become sensitive to what impacts you directly. Developing a deeper understanding of what influences you and in what way. Without that understanding you are a vessel adrift without anchor or sail undoubtedly heading towards the rapids and rocks. Torn and shredded pieces are destined to settle into the river bed, somewhere downstream.

A correction is in order. It is necessary to embrace self as priority and in this begin the seeding of essence. What grows from the seeds? An authentic understanding of who you are, where you are, what you like, and what motivates you. This is the fundamental basis of self-remembering. Creating awareness simultaneously of what is known and the knower. Awareness of the deed and the doer.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

We are taught the results of being self-centric is devastating and destructive. Somehow it is corrosive to our collective relationships. Self-centrism is falsely construed as selfishness. In accordance, it is thought that it creates no contribution to the “greater society at large”. Yet a survey of the landscape tells a different story.

The wretched who care only about themselves seem to live forever. The ruthless businessman gets richer and more powerful. The self-obsessed athlete becomes the best in his game. The politician rises in his influence and reach. In a very real sense Satan is King of this World. The nature of this world is adversarial and the road to hell is always paved with good intentions

Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, Pride. All said to be deadly Sins. However in a controlled and deliberate use, we are led to the path of freedom and prosperity. Lust leads to the fulfillment of sexual needs. Gluttony brings forth a fullness of living. Envy creates motivation and drive to improve your station. Pride brings a focus to constantly refine and develop the self. Greed to financial fulfillment. Wrath to justice. Sloth to emancipation from fruitless labor.

Perilously Traverse the Currents of Wyrd

We live in a dangerous world. Everything is surely trying to kill us, even Destiny herself. Nythra will not be denied. Yet under the Moonlight, there’s a winding staircase that leads to the blue room of Mars. It is here in The Dark Pools that we can divine the Currents of Wyrd. Given we have the foresight, that is the occult abilities to; chart our course along the ebbs and flows of the Great River as it’s rushing.

We can apprehend Cosmic Emanation, as we see the spring forming the Dark Pool. It begins to stream outwardly. The stream eventually feeding into the Great River. I close this entry with a quote from Magister Hagur. May your Travels be by your revealed Wyrd.

“Shugara, highly developed intellectually and greatly motivated achieves objectivity wherever he is found, bringing about the deep sinister intent. The Dark God is influenced by the planets Moon and Mars, responding to their attraction, ever ready to transmit its energies to all those contemplating the Tree of Wyrd as a way of sinister living, and this means:

(1) Endeavouring to arrive at an absolute sinister motive.

(2) The ability to enter in the silence of the chaotic mind to realise the sinister way.

(3) Remembering at all time the strict self-disciplined life, which
does not mean that life is undone of sensual perception, on the contrary it does stir up a well-balanced dark life.

(4) Using self-control facing the unknown.

(5) Not to scatter innate sinister forces vainly, but focus them to a particular sinister goal. “ – Hagur

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The Cosmic Order of Mayhem


The political philosophy of anarchism is integral to self-development and individuation, alchemically speaking, but its general apprehension and application is myopic and considerably juvenile as consequence of its adherents possessing a lack of knowledge of Heraclitus’ concept of flux.

Heraclitus posited that life exists in a perpetual flow of change; that nothing remains the same; that order and disorder phase in and out of existence.

The average anarchist states their commitment to ensuring a lasting state of entropy within societal systems for the purpose of providing everlasting autonomy and opposing any form of subjugation. The issue with this directive is that it goes against the concept of flux and Nature’s mechanics, which ostensibly present that every facet of life experiences a period of order and disorder.

The forest, for example, lives in a state of order: there is hierarchy among the living things within the trees and fauna, with every living thing consuming, breeding and sheltering in accord with that hierarchy. That is until a wild fire comes along and sows disorder, burning to cinders their habitats and uprooting their routines; decimating plant life and killing animals and insects in the process. After the passing of time, the forest begins to bloom again and become populated once more, returning order to it – c’est la vie.

Flux reveals that order and disorder co-exist in a macrocosm; for their expressions – as and when they are expressed – are part of a cycle, a system, an order, which is cosmic.

“We both step and do not step into the same, we both are and are not”
— Heraclitus

Therefore, this cosmic flow of order and disorder is something that cannot be prevented by human agency, only delayed, as the dam will inevitably break and order or disorder will drown our binary beliefs.

What this means is that chaos cannot be the only raison d’être for the anarchist because to continue under the notion reveals a hubristic lack of insight in addition to indolent reasoning. The purpose of an anarchist must reasonably and empathetically be to create fertile ground for the seeds of the new, creating conditions through destruction and disorder in which natural order, sans human interference, can bloom.

The alchemical application of this raison d’être as it relates to Mayhem – the Anarchist instance in the Nine Worlds cosmology of the 9A:O – will hopefully contribute to self-development in so far that an understanding of the expressions of Mayhem, as being part of the natural cosmic order, has been imparted by this revision of conventional anarchism.

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