An Inherited Apprehension of Time

As we grow as beings we are nurtured by our own presuppositions of time. We lead ourselves to define time linearly and sneer at any possibility of an instantaneous connexion between the past, present and future. It is only when we commune with some-thing outside of our mundane perceptions, through events that occur away from ticking clocks and encoded routine, that we begin to consider that time is but a measurement of processes, a measurement created  by us and its purpose defined by us. So much faith is placed in the way we process the measurement of time, yet we often perceive our spatio temporal existence to be proceeding at a different pace than the analogue and electronic tools we have designed to measure it may suggest.

The foundations of our casual existence consist of three dimensions of space and one dimension of lineal time; these dimensions are not separate but relative to one another, functioning as coordinates through which beings navigate and perceive their own experience. But at the border of our ability to intuit and correlate the inexplicable emanations of Nature and the cosmos, lineal time fades away, and we attain an ancient vantage; one where we witness past, present and future as one simultaneous, holistic happening in which our temporal actions suddenly have eternal meaning and consequence.

Therefore, [our] lineal time unfolds to reveal a non-lineal, physical dimension through which aeons can be navigated, interacted with, and altered (regardless of a being’s temporal position in causal space-time) using causal and numinous “coordinates”. It is in the wake of this found- again apprehension that the four seasons: wheel of seasons, lunar phases, and other astronomical events replace our previous measurement of processes (lineal time) and become known as alchemical seasons, during which Ga Wath Am and Binan Ath are presenced, allowing us to intuit the internal/external cycles of that which Nature and the cosmos birthed, as well as influence the physis of that which possesses being (during alchemical seasons) should we elect to.

-Theo Hiraeth

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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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Genesys of the Darkhorse

In the beginning, man and woman were free to be one with nature. They endured and figured out how to survive its laws, learning through trial, error, and from other animals. As they evolved they came together as human packs to increase their probability of survival, forming tribes and small communities. Then the tribes increased in size, expanding beyond their hunting grounds and into the greater kingdom of nature. The survival rate and territory of the other animals started to decline with the passing of time as humanity established itself as the apex predator. With nothing aside from natural disasters and disease to challenge man & woman’s dominion they continued to expand exponentially, taking the lion’s share of resources and living-space.

As time marched on the human race imagined itself among the stars and heavens, beginning to see itself as a separate entity of the animal kingdom. Our societies & ways of life changed to reflect our delusion, and we were reincarnated as an aberration of nature with excessive consciousness. The conceptualisation of our experiences grew more artificial and our problem-solving became more cerebral. We solved anatomical puzzles, split the atom, and reached the stars, only to realise that existence was more complex and mechanical than we initially thought, culminating in the atrophy of our hunter-gatherer genetics and the psychosis of our 21st century existence.

The human animal is now an estranged creature ensnared by a manic hysteria of its own making. Due to the grooming and pressures of society we subconsciously agreed upon rules to live by which exist in contrast to our nature. As our familial bonds have subsided for various reasons we no longer have the environment which encouraged this nurtured learning, leaving a void in our understanding of the world and each other. No longer can we as a species default to the animalistic nature which helped our evolution to this point, leaving an altogether confused animal locked in an empty room with full awareness of the futility of its own existence.

The Darkhorse kicks…

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Eminent Mind – Developing the “Master I” Through Meditations

I have owed my readers this article for a very long time now. I have assumed that those that practice Druwydry also have meditative practices. As a standalone practice, meditation is an effective tool for gaining further control of your being. Its beneficial properties occur both immediately and gradually. Though I encourage all forms of meditation, there are specific types that I find more suited to our aims.

For the purposes of this text, I will focus on 4 forms of meditation. Creative, Guided, Moving and Transformative. The first three are relatively widely practiced meditations, and the fourth is, in my eyes, an experimental form. It is important to understand that each of these will create and strengthen both the core (common) and specific benefits and should be ritually performed on a daily basis.

Before we can further explore the different forms of meditations, we must first define meditation. Meditation is a mental exercise involving awareness, clarity, control, and focus. Mental, meaning mind or consciousness.

Druwydry views consciousness as a myriad of cognitive subprocesses that are overlapping and yet interconnected-like working in unison. These individual subprocesses are referred to as “small I’s”. For the magians and sleepers, these individual subprocesses occur as impulses and are acted upon in an unimpeded fashion almost entirely subconsciously.

The designation “small I” uses “I” as shorthand, both for the nominative singular pronoun with which we refer to ourselves, and it also refers to an influencer. More specifically an internal influencer (impulse). That little voice that pipes up to let us know to fill one of our basic needs, such as homeostasis; is an internal influencer, and therefore a “small I”.

Other examples of impulses are behaviors, emotions, and physical reactions. Many of which we aren’t even aware of as we are acting upon them. These influencers can be self catalyzed. However, a great many of them are stimulated by what Druwydry refers to as “Master I’s”. “Master I” is shorthand for an external influencer. There are far too many of these to attempt to provide a categorical breakdown for the sake of brevity. This is a subject that I will explore in future writings.

One of the aims of Druwydry, is to provide a path to strengthening essence and Influence. Essence is the trifold enigmatic composite being that is distinctly referred to as self. Which exists as a perpetual experience of consciousness, physicality, and the more mysterious energy that animates the other two thirds. A strong essence is capable of reigning in the impulses, and exerting decisive control over all influencers. Whether they are internal or external holds little to no consequence.

Influence in this context, is the ability to assert our will upon the external and internal planes. Through these four types of meditations, we enter the first of the three sacred triangles; The Mastery. The Mastery aims to subjugate our many “small I’s”, and consciously select which of the multitude of “Master I’s”; we resist or succumb to and at what intensity.

The Four Meditations

Most have a specific image in their mind whenever the word comes up. An image of some holy man or monk sitting with their legs crossed and palms turned upwards. They are sitting perfectly still, in perfect silence, and eyes closed. For some this is an effective means of meditation, but for our work there’s more to do than simply calibrate the machine.

I would like to establish a base meditation. This is a Guided Meditation set. The following are two forms that have been designed by Theo Hiraeth with Druwydry in mind. Léargas creates a foundation in meditation, energy work, visualization, and nature
connection of the spiritual practices for Druwydry.

Léargas by Theo Hiraeth

Form I: Earth (day)

Find a tranquil woodland area and remove your upper attire. Position your back flat against the ground and outstretch your arms, proceeding to dig your fingers into the soil and keep them in place.

Close your eyes and visualise your mind’s eye breathing out as you inhale; breathing in as you exhale. Tune into the sounds around you, try to listen for the groaning of the trees, then visualise their roots growing and spreading beneath you.

Visualise the soil slowly transmuting into a black liquid, as it pulls you downwards into the earth, into the subterranean valley inhabited by luminescent Mycelium. Take a moment to accept the numinous reality of your situation, the sheer chthonic beauty and intrinsic symphony of it all. Listen for the sound of distant flowing water; listen as it grows louder and louder, and louder still, until you witness it submerge everything in the chthonic valley, and finally, yourself.

Allow the water to push you upwards to the surface whence you came, feel yourself being pushed through the soil, born into the world again.

Open your eyes and gaze at the canopies of the trees, until you are ready to return to your feet, and to yourself.

Form II: Water (night)

Locate a body of clean, natural water. Wade into it with your arms slightly outstretched beside you and your fingers parted. Feel the pull of the water as it slips through your fingers. Splash water onto your face, then run your fingers over your head.

Submerge yourself deeper in the water, thereby allowing the water to reach the chest, then the neck, then the lower half of the face, ensuring that breathing through the nose is still possible.

Cease all movement and close your eyes, then perform the reverse breathing technique (Form I: Earth, paragraph

Visualise the soil on the banks of the water turning to sludge and filtering into the water: bare witness as it changes the colour of the water, subjecting it to a certain alchemical process, transforming it into the Dark Pool wherein sinister knowledge is sought.

Remain submerged until it feels like the ‘right time’ to leave the water and return to yourself, changed.

The Provocation of Psyche

Léargas (Irish Gaelic) translates as an awakening; realisation, of the nature of things and is a fitting name for a Guided Meditation practice. Guided meditations function as a doorway to awareness, connection, and reflection. Where the Guided Form leaves off the Transformative Form picks up. There are both subtle and distinct differences between the two meditative forms. Usually the Guided Form is focused on a sort of recalibration of the machine. The Transformative Form aims to create a change within the “operating system”.

I have experimented quite a bit in this arena. From sonic (auditory) attempts to alter the state of mind and disposition, to designing a mediation that’s intention is to create a “berserker” state to be summoned and desisted at will. No matter the outcome of these experiments. There has been a net positive benefit to them. It is my belief that the Slyman should work to cultivate these types of occult abilities.

In this way the provocation of the psyche is necessitated to ultimately develop a certain type of “weaponry”. By learning about transformations and then attempting to transform any given component of self, we develop a skill set which will become essential in our workings. This is one form of an alchemical season and a crucial part of developing the Dark Empath.

Theo Hiraeth designed a wonderful transformative meditation, to which I will link here. I think what I like most about this particular working, is that in a very real way, he connects you to the elementals in a very primal way. Giving the exercise several forms.

Alignments of Being

Have you ever been working on something and zeroed your attention to whatever it is you’re working on? Everything flows so smoothly and it all seems to fall into its place at just the right time. You might even think to yourself, “I’m really good at this“. For a brief time, it is as if, this is what you were always meant to do. What you have experienced, I call a Creative Form of meditation.

If practiced and employed often, we begin to notice what will seem to be supra-human abilities. What’s more fascinating than that is, it will manifest in ways that don’t seem connected at all. Though that sounds fantastical, what I mean is in a very practical sense. Learn to reach this state within the art of communication/manipulation and witness your power.

Those that we see who seem to possess supra-human abilities are all accessing this state. There is much to observe about the creative state of being. This subject has been robustly flushed out by greater minds than my own. To that end, I will leave it where it lies.

What I might add to this, is that what is transpiring is an alignment of Will and Deed. When mind-body-lifeforce align, we experience a hyper state. This is in itself a connection to divinity. A complete illustration of the “Master I”.

I will save talking about Moving Forms for a planned essay on Gurdjieff’s Dance.

-Beast Xeno

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When I was involved in various organizations, one of my many responsibilities was being tasked at overseeing recruitment. However, when starting an organization from scratch, the methods of recruitment and retaining prospective members are entirely different from one with a deep history and roots.

An organization with a long history is appealing to prospective members mainly by status and aesthetic alone. An organization without such status and history has to cultivate it from nothing. Since I’ve always been in male membership only organizations, one such influence on recruitment was the potential access to Women. Women are a powerful asset for any organization. While at the same time being it’s greatest liability. Like a fire, it can keep you warm or engulf everything you love and build in flames.

Another attraction point is aesthetic. How you look is just as important as how strong you are. Incongruence conveys falsehood. If you want to convey strength yet you are weak, frail or obese, an overwhelming feeling of hypocrisy followed by ridicule will surely follow. Uniformity breeds Militancy. Having a standard of uniform weakness will attract the like.

Investment. Even the smallest investment in something creates attachment. The most valuable investment is Time. The greater the investment, the higher the retention. When someone is invested in something they will protect it. Sacrifice is synonymous with Investment.

The purpose of aesthetic, investment and retention is circular. But what drives this circular movement is a conversion experience. I’ve found the best conversion experience is built on pressure testing. An example. A uniform aesthetic of membership creates an us and them culture. A prospective member wants to bridge the gap from being one of them to being one of you. This can be expressed through clothing and language. Clothing that the in crowd can wear but the outsider cannot. Language that the in crowd can use but the outsider cannot. Information and relationships that the insider can have access to but the outsider cannot. People like people who are like them. And people tend to not like people who are not like them.

Pressure testing can take the form of a difficult task. A task that will test the character of a person. A task that if accomplished will reflect the traits of a member of the organization. This task can be modified and suited to a particular individual. For instance if someone struggles with confrontation, then you will place them in direct confrontation for the betterment of the organization. If someone struggles with patience, task them with something that will test their patience to the extreme. If the task is completed, an overcoming is accomplished. And the result?

The result is bringing them inside the organization, giving them access. And if this process is long enough, tribulated enough, guided and punished for their failures and praised for their successes, they will be made in your organization’s image. They will look like you, think like you, and respond just like you. They will fight to defend you. They will invest in you. And above all they will sacrifice for all of you.

However, Divestment is the reverse cycle, a cycle of destruction when applied to the former. To be incongruent, to highlight the contradictions, to “do as I say and not as I do” is a sure fire way to destroy any organization. Divestment is for the outsiders, the alien world. I have seen organizations, religions, cults and clubs rise and fall over the past decades. One thing remains true, people need someone to look up to. Someone that embodies that esprit de corps. That person cannot be declared or appointed, they have to be chosen.

~Dread Zod

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A Gift for the Abyss

The quickening silence onset in the dank hours of midsummer’s heat, then before dawn. A single arm slipped through the black plush comforter, and sought out the unblemished curvatures of the disrobed counterparts with surgically executed barbarism of the erotic intent. Contact fell and coursed like electric; the exchange of subatoms, energy and soul. Then in the rising of the new planetary dominions, William exercised with due diligence his properly enveloped husbandry in overtures of ancient ardor. Therewith, beyond the firmament even those fell messengers which stood watch over his ancestral rural abode were galvanized with fire and enthusiasm by the efforts of he, their fleshbody symbiont.

Waves of dark celestial choruses — persecutive daughters of the dread queen, the Mother of Blood, incised their lips and tongues with fervor as they caressed their dead white skins bound to the extradimension in sapphic embrace. The savagery emblazoned upon those formless intelligences: apprehended by perspectives that bloom from the development of abyssal being, alone. Their pressings pushed furiously upon their muliebribus, on this morning of soft tortures and umbral delights. The air was bloodthirsty, and saturated with rancor, pulled in with all senses of an dark empassioning, envenomed, and offered before an opening of the acausal continuum where that aweful deyonne — the Mother of Blood — waits beyond the mirror’s pane. Many preternatural rains dove then downward: reanimating, compounding, folding, hammering… priming the beautiful felony of an harvest unforgivable, as red candle wax and elixir would flicker between the shadow play of the maligned triptych.

An ocean away, in England, near the boarder of Wales where Arthurian shades still haunt, fissures grew rapidly in the crystalline pyramids that decorated a long since used edifice, hemorrhaging a physical, and yet supernatural exsanguination. Rivulets of vermillion sheen crawled downward the helix design, ebbing in cadence with his pulse, now irregulated by the increasing limitations of his mortal coil’s ever-creeping conclusion. The lonely man, now devoid of even the most infinitesimal capture of significance watched the phenomenon unfold, and with violent onsetting fluxions of clairvoyant-knowing as the omen was understood — or so he thought. For, this was no such message from those who have risen beyond the gate of Saturn. No, this was but a mirage; a contrivance. Sent, not as a work of theatrics, but a sword… or perhaps a cloak and dagger.

Then from the upper cabinet in his kitchenette, the lonely man fingered a small phial of fast acting toxin to then morbidly, and yet, welcomingly, descend the wooden cellar staircase, to which the final darkness called, and this, was no mere contrivance. For there he would consign, as he would dream in waking life, to the oblivion that waited him, patiently, across the span of many decades redolent of multifarious adventures. The edge of the deeps that his descent neared: a mouth of Hell — a hostile pandaemonium, more real and existent for him than any other mortal prior. As so many souls did he guide directly into its chasm; and so many also to its edges, that would never return, for his seduction lingered even in his own absence. Now it, and they who populate its infernal habitation, wanted him as a final, great reward. No expiation remained. Only this last rite of nihilation, by his own hand, and not therefore, by the cruel unfolding of nature. Little did he realize that this dubersome snare had been strewn for quite some time by a vast, complex network of minds, and was swiftly nearing its apocryphal moment.

They couldn’t be any more different if they tried, William and the lonely man. If you were to prick him, William that is, he would have bled the blood the Dark Way, the sigils of its signature, its sacrificial cadence to non-euclidean entities, and for that matter, bled the blood of the Horrible Dragon that now inhabited his earthbound vessel — such things born from transformation into states far beyond human tantamount to dark sorcery; in tandem with deeds of true evil, as that term is commonly understood, manifold in form, continued and continuing in the real world. He did not follow the babblings of the lonely man’s students, whimsically and arbitrarily cycling into random factoid prisms that often have no practical application beyond the pale of fanciful mythoi of which they constantly claimed to have succeeded, notwithstanding their occult baboonery from which a constant sense of self-entitlement therefrom was derived. Nor did he seek their counsel in latter days as celibate oxonians with their perseverations on the purity of esoteric manual-of-form; their confabulations often self contained and coursing with the stink of sycophancy. No, William developed, and learned, and strived in secret, sometimes across the globe, and learned that which one learns in how to instigate permanent changes in consciousness, at the personal level.

And the lonely man? Just a Maniac-Mage, who had long since lost his esoteric empathy, somewhere in the mix of his own reindeer games.

In an unoccupied room within his home, that he shared with his two polyamorous companions, several items had been stored in the afforded space within. Relics smuggled from the Green Damask Room by an unofficial collaborator, as the lonely man had nurtured many an enmity over years of corruption, infighting and shameless self-promotion under a thousand different names. Soil and stones from Black Rhadley, Caer Caradoc, and Wenlock Edge transported overseas, and water bottles filled with the Long Mynd, as well as the river Severn. There were shavings of metal obtained from Post office box #4 in Church Stretton, as well as those from box #700 in Shrewsbury.

Using the skillsets that had once been cultivated, in the beginning, from the lonely man — the Maniac Mage — but then in time, refined and perfected across a willfully striven and individual anados, William sat then cross legged before the affections obtained. The matrix of his being calibrated in sympathetic contact to the defiance of Newtonian physics and a limited space-time dimension. He needed no incantations, no holy names of god or gods, or Satan for that matter, or planetary forces. There where no prayers, or even words that were spoken, only the astral patterning across the web of Wyrd. William at no point fed off of the lonely man. Rather, he fed his own life-force into the cosmic dimension, deconstructing time, and rendering no space between himself and the target of his esoteric emotional operation.

They meant nothing to William: the words, the motions, the correspondences and the incantations. They were only but a means — in the beginning — of a science to be overcome, and wholly intending to self-destruct the primitive mind of the novitiate physis. Much as the ONA itself was always meant to self-destruct in the year 2020eh/ev, as foretold by the classic document Sacramentum Sinistrum. And yet it persisted, for reasons unknown. That its lifeless husk remained — a quandary unanswerable. William’s understanding was that the truth behind the Dark Path, was that, it could merge with anything — a perfect mergence — or merge with nothing at all, remaining nameless therein.

William felt the footfalls upon the sawed stairs undertaken by the Maniac-Mage, as he saw with his own eyes the omen which was projected into his mind, only minutes before. When then he stood in the centre of the pitch black stone cellar, a tomb fit for a lord of this world, the lonely man lifted the phial to his face and examined it. He removed the cork and closed his eyes, feeling the weight of lifetimes stacked upon one another — the loss, the memory, the joy, and all that goes along with the rush that accompanies a sordid recalling and added regret when to dispatch oneself is finalized.

Both William and the Maniac-Mage spoke out loud, joined in darkness.

“To kill a king…” they both said. At which the lonely man lifted and drank the substance into his body. Tears streamed from the eyes of the man, and William’s eyes wept blood, as they both collapsed onto the floor in their respective localities. The man and William convulsed in unison, then into fetal position, and then to soon expire, or at least one of them. At that moment across Terra Firma, twelve individuals fell to the floor, or awoke screaming and fell, ensorrowed for what could only be intuited and not truly known.

But the most cold-hearted and cold warrior machination was embodied and lived by Claire, who was of Amerindian stock, complete with William’s three miscegenated childer, all of a blended, native breed to their home of millennia that reached further back than human memory could assure. When she had traveled to meet with Scotland Yard on official business, the plan had remained ‘open,’ as was discussed and agreed upon prior. That she was to deliver an exercise in fellatio of unforgettable make-and-model to the detective chief superintendent was something that simply fell into place, hair double-braided and exotic as a Pocahontas of the most corrupt professionalism. His no-scalpel vasectomy procedure exempted her from the zygote infused sacrificial conclusion, but her esophagus was sprayed, with wanton accreditation, for a sexual favor most perfectly executed.

With papers signed, a reason cooked up never to be questioned under the critical mass of threatened termination, and the ghastly exhumation occurred. Her skull, being that of the lonely man’s dead lover, replaced with a cheap pewter fabrication purloined from an American vendor, free of charge; credit from a previous blunder honoured. A type of old-world necromancy was in the works, to conclude the epilogos that, even now, begged to be complete. For her death signified his ultimate failure as a human being. Perhaps his attempt at expiation occurred in the maximizing of his earthbound days: with his heart tortured daily and nightly by reflexions upon that burden which surelye cost him his very soul.

Claire entered the room wearing the skull now sawed and threeded to be worn as a mask. In fact, the skull was all that Claire wore, being of a buxom, well endowed hourglass figure. Her distribution of fat cells seemed to hone in, like a heat seeking missile, on those sex organs that stoke the élan vital of the male species. Like a figure from mythology, enskulled and sexually disproportionate, Claire sauntered before the collapsed but rising body of William, arms raised in horror, reflective of the desolate vacuum that was his spiritual essence, now populated by evil spirits in great number sealed into the flesh.

In England, the lonely, dying Mage saw his former lover, or what he believed was her, arrive, dancing around his fading light. She wove between, with her dance, several Dark Ones, who stood watch before the felling, some of which he knew in his life — and some of which he did not. For only some of the dark forces had been cataloged, by him, and by others. Whom he thought was his dead lover’s revenant shade, but truly Claire projecting the necrotic form into his psyche, attached her swaying movements to a particular inter-dimensional being. In the world of the phainomenon, this was William, now broken of one sympathetic contact, and onto the next, wearing a butterfly mask. The custom piece of taxidermy was made of once living fragments of hipparchia semele, known in the United Kingdom as graylings, that which employ a technique known as cryptic coloring: a manner of disguise.

Her derrière fell with violence upon his pelvic region in lustful, circular, backwards thrusts. The lonely man then watched as Noctulius— Lord of Night— entered into her bowels with ascendant sexual hunger. She was taken by him through the forbidden orifice, porta infame, and ravaged with pure animality. Her juttings were accompanied by facial expressions of anguish, fear, and terror untold. Her cries were those of submission — to that of a higher man, a young Lion. The lonely man died, with this, and all that accompanies these visions, as his final constituents, sealing then his eternity into resigned nullification, as Noctulius —Lord of Night— filled his ghostly lover’s cavity with his amaranthine essence.

He died, and died again, or so it seemed — and so it was — for the Nightmares woven this morning were vile and atomizing as befits the reception of a theoretician of terror. For like kind must meet with like kind, in great leagues above all known capacity and expectation. An evil so vast in possibility — an limitless, total evil, unvarnished and unadulterated — the only measure that could be justified in one’s dealings with the Maniac-Mage, and all who are of his ilk.

Some time later in New Jerusalem, Pennsylvania, William and Claire sat closely at their dining room table, playfully stroking limbs beneath the structure against one another. They exchanged glances of mirth and penetrative gazes of deeper meaning. The flutters of eyelashes and whispers that rained glory upon one another came in droves, crossing and colliding both ways. There were plates of meats and glasses of milks set before them, as they proffered then slivers of predatory restriction into each other. Bodies that were in a constant state of ketosis, physically nourishing the thirsty nightsky on a consistent basis, which veiled those lurkers upon the evil tree, basking in the undying flame of the here and now.

Dark and crimson spheres pulsated with life-force. Ghostly shadows unveiled. The seeds of astral tides propitiated, as foretold in elder tomes of antiquity, towards purposes once initiated remain unchanged. A species that would be builded into the real world, capable of breathing her fiery breath into forges that produce principles of iron belief. Kings and Queens who, as terrible lawmakers of preëval lineage, sworn to uncompromising stricture, claw, even now, at the fabric that separates you from the woeful and approaching eventuality.

From the dark recesses of an antechamber, Phaedra flung face first into Claire’s nestled cleft with unbridled berserker rage. The brood of Mactoron howled like jackals before the desert moon, drunk on the blood of an aeonic opfer, and Sodom’s devils rose from an eternity of ruin to rub the dust from their eyes. Blasphemy enthroned, they three drank of the flesh unrestricted; pagan and extramarital in extremis. An heresy unchallenged in propriété privée, voices outstretch in perversion. Nocturnal turgesence traversed backwards and forwards in slick repetition, engorged with the confidence and character that is welcomed into the vulvas myriad which the open expression of desire brings into being, liberated fully from external compunctions.

Phaedra panted as Willam took her deeply — the fullest and deepest ever to be, but her cries would fall upon the deaf winds, as Claire shoved her darling face into the carnage of her yearning cunt. Hot and live seminal fluid blasted Phaedra’s ovaries, once more miscegenating the body of non-Aryan woman.

Anwynn Edgar Thorn


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The Matter of Acceptance by Herald Veles (Guest Essay)

“The only thing you can count on is change, so you might as well get used to it.”. This verbal expression or some variation thereof is prevalent, at least in the West, almost universally. Usually those expressing it are doing so in reference to the external world around them. They fail, or refuse rather to consider it is they who are the harbingers of Chaos and change.

The universe was born of Chaos, and through its will humanity was given rise on Earth. Why would one then ignore themselves born of Chaos? Intimately connected to it, even? There are numerous and varied answers, but they may all ring true. Indoctrination into societal or religious morality may be the most prevalent of these answers. Whatever the mundane reason that may be given, the reality is that many are happy to ignore their sinister nature that is the will of Chaos in favor of the blanket of security that comes with conformity.

Humanity assigns artificial concepts of “good” and “evil” to almost everything in this causal world. People and institutions are assigned qualities that carry with them either positive or negative connotations. However in one’s own mind, they know the matter is not so simple. There is no such thing as good and evil, only some combination of both that exist in tandem. Thus is the nature of Chaos and the proof of our acausal ability to psychically connect with it. The shadow self is hidden only to be indulged later as the “mask” is removed, while those qualities that exemplify the “good” are held out for all to see.

What does one do, when they wish to accept that they are in fact just that – both “good” and “evil”. They must first struggle and then accept that their perception has been veiled by man’s willful blindness. To the vigilant Slyman, they will use this to their advantage. For those able to exist in this causal world diligently promoting the “good” qualities society desires, they are able to equally foster their own chaotic will to exert influence around them. Acceptance is a battle and a struggle, one that must be endured for what it is. There will always be moments where one force of Chaos exerts its will over the other, even once acceptance of the sinister has been made.

Once one has acknowledged that they are not two halves but instead a whole, acceptance has been made and liberation from the bounds of humanities moral constraint can begin one down the path of the sinister. Each Slyman must make this decision for themselves, to embrace Chaos is both a daunting and liberating experience. Close your eyes, as winter utters its cold shroud forth find yourself a moment of solitude in the woods after a fresh snow. Listen past the sound of silence, and you very well may find your own acceptance.

-Herald Veles 2022

Special thanks to Herald Veles for tapping the Current of Darkhorse and writing this for us.

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A Basis In History

Work on a recent section of my up and coming book led me to doing some research on the methods historians use for verifying accuracy. This was important in my research because so many “traditions” roam abroad with unsupported claims of ancient roots. I’m sharing this with you fine folks because it may help you decide which systems are worth working in and which are not. After all if the system is based in lies, you can only expect any claims of potential gain are also based in lies. Given the short lifespan we have and the fact that most of us were not born into this pursuit, time is precious.

Time brings us to our first point of measure when dealing in authenticating a system as ancient. Olden-Jørgensen and Thurén state that the closer the evidence examined is to the event it claims to describe, the more likely it is that we can trust the evidence given.

In the case of physical evidence (i.e. a plate, stone, or any other tangible item) this is more than obvious. As an example let us just pretend someone has found a spear which they claim was used by early Mesopotamian hunters. After undergoing the process of carbon dating it is revealed that this spear could not be any older than the end of the Roman Empire. We can confidently conclude that it is highly unlikely that this spear existed in it’s “claimed” time period.

What about narrative evidence? Can the same type of measure be given? It certainly can! However a greater degree of difficulty is presented in this type of verification and so a number of procedures have been proposed. Bernheim and Langlois & Seignobos proposed a 7 step system and Garraghan gives 6 steps. It would seem there are many options available to establishing a method of verification. In this light I’ve sought a common field of variables and comprised my own list.

* Proximity of Origin

* Greater Value of Testimony

* Tendency of Bias

* Detail vs General Analysis

* Reference Verification

* Plausibility Verification

* Linear Relativity

* Statisical Relativity

* Analogical Function

As to not entirely bore you fine folks with exasperating detailed descriptions, I will sum each up with a brief sentence or two.

Proximity of Origin – The length of time between the actual occurrence and it’s testimony. It is completely different when dealing with a narrative account from someone who was present during the occurrence versus someone who is trying to reconstruct it a hundred years later.

Greater Value of Testimony – Are there a large number of separate accounts from separate individuals? Do they all agree on ALL the points in consideration?

Tendency of Bias – Is there a set of circumstances which would cause the petitioner of the testimony to be biased to the occurrence? If so, what is the likelihood of the petitioner maintaining a neutral presentation?

Detail Vs General Analysis – Are ALL accounts detailed? If not is there a larger percentage that are detailed or general?

Reference Verification – Can the data presented be verified by sources of authority? How much empirical evidence can be gathered to support the reference.

Plausibility Verification – Is it reasonable to have occurred? Are the existing external conditions for its plausibility present?

Linear Relativity – Does the sequence of events leading up to and continuing afterward present its situation as relative? For instance the claim that Jesus was born between the time of Washington’s Presidency and Adam’s Presidency is clearly retarded.

Statistical Relativity – This deals more with gray areas (situations in which there is conflicting data) and can be utilized by comparison of higher statistical probability. This is obviously using hard science to measure the likelihood of the occurrence.

Analogical Function – When dealing with things of metaphor, one must measure the application of the metaphor during it’s historical period. Obviously the Xtian’s metaphor for “Feeding the Five Thousand” has nothing to do with biological cloning of fish and bread.

As it stands now this is my method. In contrast prior to my committal of this to my book, I’d like you folks to examine it or try it out and help me refine this.

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