Part M >
On the 21st of July 1913 Franz Kafka observed in his Diary, “Don’t despair, not even over the fact that you don’t despair”. People exist as robots within a world of no win politics fortified by political structures that have either outgrown their usefulness or graphically and tragically proved their inherent inadequacies. By old religious traditions that subverted a message of denying Church by preaching the personal and interior nature of the Kingdom of Heaven, and the State and family by advocating a higher allegiance to individual conscience continue as unabashed as if nothing had happened at all. And in answer, nothing changes. Anton La Vey noted that, ‘There is nothing inherently wrong with fascism, given the nature and needs of the average citizen … Now it’s not so much a case of avoiding fascism, but of replacing a screwed up, disjointed, fragmented and stupefying kind of fascism with one that is more sensible and truly progressive.’
And Anton was many things, but never a fool. He also opined that the best street cleaner was a riot-gun and there are few that would quibble. Turning against themselves they live alone and vicariously with others. They have allowed themselves to become prisoners in our mythological penitentiaries amid the bright-lights and dark corridors of their cheap and nasty psyches.
If viewed objectively, Satan does not need to buy souls. The crowds are drip-fed belief systems, pointless choices and hollow opportunities. From radios, televisions, print media, billboards and the accepted agenda of the day, they exist in a constant state of boredom.
Fashion experts assist psychopaths in both politics and big business. Words as empty as the hearts that speak them, hardly affect the masses any more. They exist in a universe of suspicion. Their jobs are tenuous; their comatose lives as artificial as their prejudices and their alienated futures mostly short-term.
Its not that the true nature of what has and is being offered has changed or wasn’t obvious all along. Just get another beer, turn down the lights, heat your packaged dinner and watch the flat-screen colour and movement of compliant simplicities. Your parents ‘could not think of a number so they gave you a name.’ But the State has assigned you a number for your pettiness and you will work until you drop! Samuel Adams said it best at the Philadelphia State House on the 1st of August 1776, “If ye love wealth better than liberty, the tranquillity of servitude better than the animating contest of freedom, go home from us in peace. We ask not your counsels or arms. Crouch down and lick the hands which feed you. May your chains set lightly upon you, and may posterity forget that ye were our countrymen.” Nobody listened then either, except initiates of the precursor to the (Satanic) Alpha Lodges.
We believe in the law of the Aeon, which is sacrifice and in the letting of blood. It’s the only doctrine to which the masses have ever been faithful, that and the aesthetic of disgrace. A disguised post-modern Satanic Eugenics rests on the superiority of those who know that they are above ‘the herd’, which they view with revulsion and is reflected in the indignation of their policies for any form of commitment to anything wider than themselves – to the point of trivializing life itself. One wing of the Hospital helps infertile couples; the other unit terminates foetuses. Cloning is not required – as a trip around any Metropolis will prove. The condition of admission is an old school tie, a proper handshake, mobile phone, a credit rating and some proof from the government that you exist.
The herd continues a hallowed tradition of pious fear – both of life and death. They light candles but they never really kiss. It is not hard to find them refracted through the stained glass grotesque caricatures of spirituality, the sound-byte vomit of politics, the mathematical facelessness of plastic statistics or in the quietest moment of the night.
Their politics rest on tribalism, their social systems resemble a clique of High School Prefects not an open system where a vote actually means something. Next time you are standing in a queue imagine a world where the government operates everything; where Committee delegates organise everything; where the information is edited, cutting through the lines of least persistence and where equality of outcome ensures the finality of its long-term results. It’s not that hard. We continue to organize it! What God can create – man can destroy!
We exist in an Age with more promises than perils, more opportunities than obstacles, with better health care, communication and affordability, yet they silently await the Mushroom clouds and for the smells of death to capture the planet like never before. They are as compliant as sheep to the slaughter. “The Lord is my shepherd…” Their fears keep them together, huddling and overwhelmed by our prospect of the inevitable!
Satanists believe that the fear inspired by the atomic bomb and other weapons yet to come will be so great that everyone will refrain from using them . . . (Material deleted) It will mean the division of the world among 2 or 3 vast superstates, unable to be overthrown by any internal rebellion.
Their structure will be hierarchic, with the Satanic caste at the top and outright slavery at the bottom, and the crushing out of liberty would exceed anything the world has yet seen. Within each state the necessary psychological atmosphere will be maintained by a complete severance from the outside world, and by a continuous phoney war against rival states. Civilizations of this type will remain stable for thousands of years. Have no fear!
END of Article One. See comments for Article 2. < TBA.
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Start Part A >
Confessions Of A Satanist
Sunday, 17 January 2010
By Frater 616
I will go down to The Altars in Hell
To Satan
The Giver of Life
O! Prince of Darkness
Hear Me!
Our Father which wert in heaven
Hallowed be Thy Name
In heaven as it is on Earth.
Give us this day our Ecstasy
And deliver us to evil
As well as temptation
For we are your Kingdom
For Aeons and Aeons.
Satanism flourishes beneath the scintillating midnight-blue wet streets and bedevilling phosphorescent lights of Australia’s glittering capital cities. Its practitioners are from all walks of life. Although marginal types and those with predisposing personalities have always and will always be important to Satanism and its leaders’ ends, they are merely tools. Their antinomian influence is now so pervasive as not to be readily noticed.
Amongst the highest echelons some are politicians, medical doctors, high ranking police officers, lawyers, advertising gurus, decorated military men, media personalities, fashion models and social workers. Amongst the lowest (usually temporary) ranks are prostitutes, minor drug dealers and a number of High School students. Some operate from the mists. Their victims are drip-fed straight amnesia by an assortment of mind control measures and psychological torture tactics that would leave any normal person numb with the dawning apprehension that things are not as they seem – and they have not been for a long, long time.
The most talented amongst them have lifestyles maintained on crime, but lacquered with a thin veneer of respectable professionalism and knowledge.
They dress with elegance – timeless and calculating; networking and conspiring in a dream that money alone cannot purchase. Often their personalities have a force that distorts the contours both of judgement and of everyday perception. I cannot mention every name, but I will drop enough clues. The doctors refuse to say exactly how long I have but …
I became involved in the whole sordid business in the 1970’s, a decade noted for little beyond sartorial bad taste and crushingly optimistic fatalism. The decade that began as a drug-crazed carry-over of the 1960’s soon bequeathed androgynous glam-rock, the Watergate scandal and the shallow opportunism of ‘Rollerball’. Science fictionism stalked the streets with a rejected furtiveness bred of cowering beneath the backdrop of the Cold War and dancing with the resurrected agonies of another Asian based imperialistic conflict.
I fell through a crack in reality, having deliriously wandered amid the human wreckage and reached certain spiritual conclusions. In short, I do not know how I got there, but I know why. The 1970s were a dismal, incense-fuelled time that only those who lived through it can appreciate. The comprehensive dismissal of values and the adoption of pornography as the aesthetic standard by which all endeavour was to be categorised left its impressionistic fingerprints on everybody’s imagination, mine included. I guess that I analysed and reacted differently. That is how I escaped the mundane – through one of western society’s fault lines.
See Part B >