“Every proper escape begins not with a plan,
but with an awareness of one's current captivity.”
These words were first written to me by a mysterious stranger who called himself “Desmious,” which, I eventually learned, was not his proper name at all, but, rather, the Greek word for 'Prisoner.' Although I never learned his real name, or even met the man face-to-face (assuming, of course, that he was a man), the few things that I did learn from him have proven invaluable, so much so that today I feel compelled to share some it here with all of you; I hope you're paying attention.
You see, Desmious claimed to have started out many, many, years ago, as an amateur escape artist. Obsessed from a very young age with the fundamental architecture of prisons, and of systems of control in general, he quickly rose up to become the greatest master of the slip that this world had ever seen, unsurpassed at finding, and exploiting, previously undetected weaknesses in all manner of confinements, entanglements, and oppressions. He had become so good at escape, in fact, that he was eventually inducted into a vast world dominating Conspiracy, one where he was to serve as a sort of quality control consultant for the world's elite social engineers. For years, Desmious was tasked with the terrible job of testing and improving upon a corrupt system's most oppressive structures, not only the pieces of what he calls the ickthyfilaky, or the guarded prison, but also the gradual construction of something far more nefarious, a modern contrivance known by far fewer people as the melifilaky, or the honey prison.
Desmious always hated the melifilaky. He explained to me once that while both the spirit and the flesh will instinctively struggle against the far more obvious limitations of a conventional incarceration, the power of the honey prison lies in it's innocuous, seemingly beneficial, nature. As he watched the world slip further and further into the sticky snares of this seemingly undetectable threat, it was his sincere, almost religious, devotion to that delicate dance between capture and escape which, perhaps inevitably, compelled him to eventually betray the Conspiracy.
What follows, therefore, is a brief description of the seven primary members of this supposedly ancient and all consuming plot. Perhaps, like many, you'll simply refuse to believe in any evil consortium of Supervillians whom, in ways that will soon be made obvious, subtly rule the modern world, with very little, if any, opposition. At least at first, many of you probably won't even pause to consider how you, or your families, might, even now, be falling victim to any of these ubiquitous assaults on the human mind and body. Desmious says that this is because you have, in fact, become a living part of the prison itself, and thus can really never hope to escape; he taught me that we must instead escape from you.
I, however, remain hopeful, but, if he's right, then this may serve as your only notice that we are leaving, and, at least, you'll be granted a chance at understanding why. Ultimately, whether or not you come along, and who you might attempt to bring with you, will have to be entirely up to you and what you're capable of seeing.
This is, after all, where all proper escapes must begin.
(Unfortunately, illustrations for any of the following 7 Wanted posters have yet to be finalized. We live in hope.)
For Predatory Lending,
Extortion, Usury, and Fraud
The Senex, an ascended Alchemist, currently owns most of the planet Earth and exercises his royal prerogative via an unthinkably vast banking empire. He is the prime architect of an ancient occult conspiracy that stretches far back before the Order of Melchizadek (a.k.a. Jupiter), the Hashshashin, the Templars, The Freemasons, and, of course, the Federal Reserve, all of which currently answer to him. His intense rivalries with other Alchemical Masters of history, from St. Germain to Sir Issac Newton, are also legendary, although these days he mostly just locks promising Alchemists up, forcing them to slave away in secret for his bank.
Once, they say, he was quite literally made of gold, but these days, he's become a wispy digital whirl of swirling one and zeroes; the fundamental idea of ownership itself, extended out into infinity.
For Poisoning Billions
and Political Corruption
The Senex's niece, Mother Dreadful, as the self-proclaimed goddess of the Oikos Panouklas, or 'the Household Plagues,' is responsible for GMOs, preservatives and artificial sweeteners, for fluoride, pesticides, heavy metals and dyes, for the over-processing and over-sweetening of the American diet, all of which has contributed to our current Functional Zombie Apocalypse. She is the matron of the Illuminati house Rothschild* (from whom she inherited, among other things, her tiny army of mind-controlling parasites which she's dubbed the “Determites”), but suffers from a psychological illness called Lamia Syndrome, thoroughly convinced that the world needs to be saved from itself by the cautious enlightenment, and natural selection, her various poisons bring.
For Subversion of the Fifth Estate
and Possibly Deicide
Mediacrates hunts those whom the Order of Jupiter deem a potential threat to the status quo, colloquially referred to as “sparks.” A bishop in the Catholic Church, this thin neuro-assassin commands enormous assets, both magical and mundane, including an army of conservative zealots, a quartet of archonic angels called the Drudge, and a vast media empire. All of these are part of his “Mediacratic Method,” a systematic process of indoctrination and bribery designed to neutralize the various threats posed by nonconformists and malcontents.
Slave Labor and Xenocide
Santa Claus was once merely the bishop of Myra until he merged body and soul with a pagan God of Darkness called the Holly King, ascending to become the world's foremost guardian against all things supernatural and, more importantly, the modern God of Consumerism. He has a slave army of elves and satyrs and runs a magical prison sweat shop in the North Pole called “The Workshop.” Armed assaults on the Workshop are common, primarily by a single group of radical militants called the E.L.F. (the Elven Liberation Front). The goal of the E.L.F. is not just to liberate the various mythical creatures currently slaving away in the Santa's Workshop, but to release the long imprisoned God of Spring, the unfairly demonized Krampus.
THE PALE WARDEN
For Mind Control
The Pale Warden is an alien who crafts various technological wonders, the primary focus of which are the enslavement, or at least the perpetual distraction, of the human mind. Her people are known on Earth as the Fae, and she's here on a mission to keep humans from somehow stumbling into any of the various dimensional rifts that connect her shining world to our own. Popular Pale Warden Technology throughout the ages has included such advances as the stage, the radio, the television, comic books, role-playing games, video games, the internet and most recently, her greatest success, smart phones.
For Police Brutality and
Countless Other Crimes of Conformity
The Authoritarian's power waxes and wanes in response to the amount of pain, fear, and resignation he can harvest from those whom he bends to his will. Part of this transformation is physical, as he often makes dramatic increases in size, strength, and speed, but he also has a large degree of telepathic influence over the sensory perceptions of anyone he's beaten into submission, controlling both what they can and cannot see. These mind-controlled fools become drones in his massive army of Conformatons, a humorless and superficial collection of petty tyrants, haters, snitches and apologists. It's not clear exactly what the Authoritarian is, but he has displayed a disturbing ability to inhabit the bodies of those under his dominion, and to survive indefinitely in spirit form should his own body be destroyed. He has, in the past, claimed to being nothing less than the actual God of the Old Testament, but, of course, this has never been verified.
THE ULTIMA THULE
For High Treason and
the Corporate Conspiracy
The Ultima Thule has multiple forms: from the earliest robot prototypes it used to rely upon to substantiate its terrible existence, to the various modern avatars it now uses to travel freely across the internet, and even out into space, this Nazi God Machine is a vastly powerful artificial intelligence seeking nothing less than the perfect merger of business and government, a Neo-Fascist Corporatocracy. Unlike the Authoritarian, The Ultima Thule is a purely material phenomenon, a sentient computer program without any inherent ability to spiritually possess others or to persist beyond the destruction of it's physical hosts; unfortunately, copies of its core programing appear to be regularly backed up in secret locations all across the globe, making the Nazi God Machine effectively as indestructible and immortal as the Authoritarian himself.
Krampusmas is an ever expanding holiday season based on the Krampus's own indefatigable defiance of the darkness. It usually begins in earnest on December 5th, with the year's first official Krampuslauf, a decentralized “parade” which serves as a gathering for all those who wish to pledge themselves to the returning God of Light as we enter upon this delicate period of solar transition. Just over two weeks later, the Winter Solstice arrives, and with it comes "the Great Solstice Battle," which has traditionally been marked with various contests between the various agents of the light and of the dark, culminating in one last epic struggle between the Oak and the Holly Kings. This one sacred night is typically considered by most to be the actual “Krampusmas holiday,” but this well beloved season of defiance seems to arrive, at least for me, earlier and earlier, and to then stretch on for longer and longer, with every passing year.
Of course, beyond these two essential dates, any other of the more conventional holidays one might wish to acknowledge can be engaged in as each individual sees fit. However, for reasons that will momentarily be made clear, obligatory acts of mass consumerism are very strongly discouraged, and, whenever possible, should be replaced with actual acts of charity, preformed either anonymously or in the name of Krampus.
Yet who, you may ask, is the Krampus, and what's his beef with consumerism anyway? So glad that you asked.
The pre-Christian origins of the Krampus reach all the way back to the so-called Wildmen that were believed to preside over the initiatory binding and scourging of novice witches. The Krampus's infamous birch branches are in fact a very well known magical tool for the driving out of unclean spirits, and indeed, later day tales of "bad" children carried away in a sack could indicate a form of forced conscription into one of the many dark corners of the Supramundane, just as with the Chinese Linn Quei or the Irish Fae.
Yet, unquestionably, the Krampus's greatest and most defining role was preformed as the immortal God of Spring known as the Oak King. Each year, at the Winter Solstice, this God of Light battled and overthrew the God of Darkness and Winter, who appeared as a bearded and burly woodsman, complete with heavy black boots and a fur lined coat, known, at that time at least, as the Holly King.
However, with the arrival of the aptly named Dark Ages, a pagan slaying Catholic Bishop named Nicholas of Mira somehow assumed the immortal station of this ancient pagan arch-villain, and the once heroic Krampus found himself securely bound in heavy iron chains, forced to serve as a brutish boogeyman for his eternally entropic antagonist the Holly King, or rather, as he has now come to be known all around the world, the saccharine and sanctimonious Santa Claus.
From that time forward, this well concealed Dark God of winter and decay has been able to rule the entire world, year round, as the now uncontested God of Frenzied Mass Consumption. This, my friends, is the true story of Christmas, known only to a select few, though consistently intuited by millions. Yet fear not; the true God of Yule will soon return- on December 21st, to be precise.
So please, don't forget to sharpen your horns and, in whatever ways that you can, defy the darkness.
Merry Krampusmas everybody.
There's a saying over in Isreal that "you haven't made it in Israeli politics until you've been cursed by the Pulsa diNura," an increasingly in vogue death threat slung around among the lowest of the ultra-orthodox. The “dark power” of the Pulsa diNora was infamously unleashed just over a year ago against the Israeli Economics and Trade Minister, Naftali Bennett, when, in early 2013, Bennett controversially advocated for some radical policy changes in regard to Israel's then almost universally mandatory military service, changes that would no longer exempt the children of the ultra-orthodox from actually serving, like most other Israelis, in the endless military occupation of Palestine. This would make them and their families have to physically participate, like all other Israelis, in a war that these same Rabbis seemed otherwise very eager to support; that is, at least, vocally, and, of course, with other people's blood.
Bennett easily survived this curse, as well as other, far more credible, threats against his life, yet, according to the Ultra-Orthodox, this curse has been responsible for a handful of prominent political deaths over the years, from the death of Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon a decade back, to Israeli Prime Minister Yitzchak Rabin's assassination ten years before that (both, ostensibly, due to plans that each of these leaders had made to return currently occupied lands back to the Palestinians). This week, however, something quite new and disturbing transpired, something that should make you as angry as it did me, because the so called “Lashes of Fire,” apparently the perfect curse for cowards who are eager to speak yet unwilling to act, was leveled against a local American restaurant, and all of its American staff, right here on American soil. Apparently, someone wants to fight their foreign war here as well, and, even more audaciously, they want to use magick to do so. I believe that's my department, thank you; so, if you're intrigued, please, follow me though this short story step by step, and I'll tell you when we get to end what you can do to help.
As usual, I entered this conflict feet first and flying blind a full day before it should have begun. At the breaking of Sabbath this Saturday I held a massive and spontaneous fire ritual, in which I employed literal “lashes of fire,” at a local Jewish home right here in Pittsburgh. Later that evening, while searching for a proper name for the new fire tool I had created, I discovered the Pulsa diNora quite accidentally, a synchronicity which gave me a chance to pore over its twisted political history. Nothing too strange about that, except that the very next day I learned that someone else, unbeknownst to me, had just launched this very same curse, as well as the death threat it implies, against my friends at the Conflict Kitchen.
Now, the police, as we speak, are searching for the person responsible for this threat, but I've been working on the magical angle of the problem for a few days now, and I've learned that while this theurgic ritual can be accomplished any number of ways, nearly all of them will be enormously flawed by various fundamental delusions. First of all, there's strong Zoharic authority stating that this “curse” is actually a sort of blessing in disguise, as many believe that it can only properly be invoked to the benefit of a “Jew” who has himself fallen into some sort of “religious error.” The very idea of using this against non-Jews is as ridiculous as threatening to excommunicate Rastifarians from the Catholic Church. However, despite this basic confusion, I've still chosen to employ mirrors in my current efforts to subvert this mysterious terrorist's magical efforts, of which this essay is but one.
Mirrors, you see, are often used in magic to reflect back malicious energies against any who might attempt to send them out, but the mirror serves a deeper mystical function as well, bringing each of us face to face with our own most immediate and stark realities. The Pulsa diNora, among people who aren't stupid enough to conceive of it as a mere curse, is better understood as the protective covering which shields the Shekinah, the indwelling essence of God itself, from all external harms it might encounter while in this world, as well as protecting the world from it. That someone is attempting to remove this covering with the notion of doing a non-Jew actual physical harm, a sentiment which is expressly forbidden anyway, is really laughable, since as far as I can tell all authentic rituals connected to this construct can only properly be used for one thing and one thing only: The spiritual perfection of those upon whom it focuses. It is, like all proper Lovecraftian workings, a simple matter of breaking inconvenient seals, of setting that which is currently bound loose upon the world. Sounds fantastic if you ask me.
So, in addition to reflections and re-directions, I've also amplified the basic curse and attempted to spread its fundamental influence like a dirty bomb all across Oakland, Shadyside and Squirrel Hill, in the hopes that it will do what it was ACTUALLY intended to do: to strip away all of that which has heretofore insulated us from the truth that's all around us, to bring us our “due” by placing the divine spirit in each of us right up against the countless troubles and turmoils which I'm sure some of us may have callously been ignoring for far, far, too long. Today, you will be as gods.
And I do all this with only one last word of caution:
The Waking of the Lashes of Fire represents finally taking responsibility for all of the things we've pushed for with our own individual magical wills, whether or not we each currently understand, or even acknowledge, how we are, in fact, such magicians, this spell harkens directly to the divine, and all-too-often dreaming, core of our unconscious, so that it might flood out, even as you read these words, into the world around us to manifest immediate and unmediated change. It's that rare magick of instant Karma which I, for one, welcome with open arms. However, there's nothing to fear here, because, unlike those sick sad men who've been thoroughly twisted away from the indwelling breath of their own God, we aren't hiding from the truth.
And now neither can you. See you in the Kitchen. Good luck and Namaste.
Since I started my new religion, which has been referred to, with varying degrees of accuracy, as the Nameless Religion, the Anti-Church of the Anti-Everything, the Secret Sword, the Charis Conspiracy, the Campaign Against The New Gods, the Hidden Covenant, the Djinn Army, Gnostic Anti-Thought, etc., etc., I've received a lot of questions and concerns, the more reasonable ones being: Why haven't you named it? Don't you think it needs to be made more clear exactly what you're talking about and what you want people to do? Who do you think would follow such a “religion?” When will you lay out the rules for adherents? Don't you think you're being a bit too vague/negative? Uh.. one of your evil Gods is SANTA CLAUS? Seriously?!?
Since I'd unplugged in honor of Mind Control Wednesdays, I've had a moment to reflect on these questions and I wanted to briefly address them and perhaps share a little more about where I'm actually coming from with all this. First, the name is not only not important, it's a trap. People misuse such labels to either identify or distance themselves from a complex collection of ideas, people, and events, with both sides, the self and the other, becoming unnecessarily reified and misunderstood in the bargain. You are not any of the labels you dress yourself up with, regardless of how accurately they may describe the person you want to believe you've appeared to be, and neither is anything else you're trying to tie down with language.
One relevant example would be the so-called “Gnostics” who were, in fact, a quite disparate collection of magical traditions, schools of enlightenment, alchemical conspiracies, and competing cults, which the more orthodox Catholic Church attempted to collapse into this one single label. The term itself could loosely be translated as “one who seeks to really know,” and was selected not only to emphasize their departure from the Church's demands for unquestioning faith (and its prohibitions against magic), but, in my opinion, it was also a rhetorical move to better disregard the plurality and multiplicity of thought that characterized their spiritual opposition at that time, some of whom, I should point out, weren't even terribly opposed to them. However, in the end, it was far more expedient to have one single term with which to swat at a thousand flies than to learn each of their names and their individual stories, which, for obvious reasons, would have been a very dangerous move, both politically and rhetorically.
Of course, in the end, the Church managed to crush those movements, driving them either to the pyre or into obscurity, with many of their names all but forgotten, and, in this way, I suppose, I am doing my ideas an enormous disservice by refusing to brand them. After all, how could you follow this anti-faith if you lacked a convenient way to tell your friends and family about it? How can I argue about it's differences with other faiths or search desperately for some common ground that might allow us to comfortably associate? Is there nothing to put on our T-shirts? What will we write on the census or when we file with the government? These are, of course, all things you can work out on your own, but I sincerely hope you've figure out by now why you don't have to.
The truth needs no such labels. The Taoists expressed these same sentiments when they said that the Tao that can be spoken is not the true Tao, and also that those who know don't say, while those who say don't know. Now obviously I'm saying a lot of things even by saying this, and it's not like I have no doctrines or opinions to express, but it's important that you approach all of this from a place of freedom. You didn't come here, I hope, to be told how to act, or even what to think or feel. If you're really cut out to be part of this religion, then I would hope you're one of those rare individuals who can be comfortable searching without perhaps ever definitively finding, of seeing any answers I may appear to give as merely the impetus for further questions and for your own continued research; a person who is capable of being without becoming and of becoming without being. Mostly, I would hope that you want to be free or, to some extent at least, that you already are.
Hopefully that explains many of the questions above. While I may engage in ethical discourse from time to time and even call for certain actions, I would never presume to do so as the sort of authority that must be listened to uncritically, because there is no such authority on Earth. While I may at times be intentionally vague, I'm certainly not trying to be unclear. While it's true that I have a lot of things I want people to understand, I also want people to think for themselves and not use the things I give them as an excuse to avoid working out the truth on their own.
Which brings me to that last question: Am I seriously suggesting that Santa Claus is a dark god who needs to be fought? Well, yes. Obviously.
Of course I can understand how this might not be as obvious to those who've never looked beneath the surface, into the old pagan Solstice rites, or observed the historical shift whereby the light god of Spring was unfairly transformed into a vicious demon and the dark god of Winter was literally made a bishop in the Catholic Church. My war against Santa Claus not only encapsulates almost everything that's wrong with the Church (their demonization of man-as-animal, their shameless cannibalization of pagan traditions, their Dominionist attempt to enslave and oppress both nature and the human body, their exile of magic, and their exceedingly questionable intentions towards small children, to name a few) but also speaks to the more pressing issues I have with the current Consumerist society which has largely eclipsed them. This enemy is so entrenched in the hearts and minds of those around you that I strongly suggest an indirect approach should you choose to address any of the real issues that lie beneath this seemingly farcical war. Indeed, the almost cartoonish idea of the war itself, if presented properly, with the so-called Krampus as a captive and misunderstood hero and the ever popular Santa Claus as a two-faced villain running an Elven sweatshop, should be more than enough to set the mind thinking in a dangerous direction, one that will inevitably lead it to some awkward realizations, which might just be far easier to accept if they come from within than from someone else.
There are many such revelations buried inside what little I offer as “doctrine.” For instance, every child will one day learn the true identity of Santa Claus, yet there is another, even greater revelation, one that almost never comes because our circumstances never force us to ponder it: Who is the Krampus and who keeps him in chains?
The answer to this mystery if you truly get it, could even be enough to finally set it free. Good Luck and Namaste.
With so much wasted time in the average month I try to give at least one full week of attention to the New Gods and then another, if I feel it's necessary, on some decidedly delicate dealings with the Old Ones. Since the days of the week in many cultures are all already named for the Old Gods, that may appear to be a simple enough thing for many of you to figure out, but most of you might still wonder exactly who I'm "worshiping" with almost half my time, as well as precisely when, and, of course, how. Well here's a very brief breakdown, with some of those details omitted, or, at the very least, left very intentionally vague... for your own good, of course. (Remember what Confucius said about the other three corners.)
First off, I should explain that the New Gods only really exist, in my opinion, to be grudgingly placated when necessary, heroically battled against whenever possible, and, if that's your thing, ruthlessly mastered and controlled, as they are by the Awakened Adepts of the Illuminati. Only a fool would actually worship any of these assholes intentionally, but, of course, many of us were either born fools, or, worse, assholes, or else simply raised by one or the other or both, so don't feel bad if you've arrived late, or not at all, to this particular black panther-esque party. These are all very popular Gods of the modern age, and you probably currently worship at least two or three, if not more, of them. Most of you guys are, after all, still only human.
That said, I'll just lay out the table here and let you figure out how best to eat what's being served (I suggest tiny bites, from below):
Monday's are for Santa Claus, the God of Consumerism.
Tuesday's are for the Authoritarian, the God of Authoritarianism.
Wednesday's are for the Pale Warden, the God of Mind Control.
Thursday's are for the Ultima Thule, the God of Corporatism.
Friday's are for Mother Dreadful, the God of Hysterics and Doubt.
Saturday's are for the Senex, the God of Senescence.
Sunday's are for Mediocrates, the God of Status and the Status Quo.
It's a bit overwhelming to face them all at once, although if I've learned anything it's that, even when they may appear to be at odds, believe me when I say that they're all in this together. I just find this pragmatic division of my spiritual labors a far most helpful way to compartmentalize my own efforts. It keeps my Great Work from becoming too, well, scattered, or dare I say completely snuffed out, by the sheer size and strength of this rather imposing opposition.
To summarize (for those of you who are, y'know, a little slow) battling against these soul crushing forces gives shape and meaning to my currently deeply troubled existence. Perhaps it's a djinni thing and you just wouldn't understand, or perhaps you get it completely and we are now both a little bit less alone. Post-Traumatic Growth is sort of an acquired taste, I guess.
Oh yeah... I almost forgot the Old Gods (Haven't we all though?). You probably know and understand them by their more common names. However, I personally find their Norse, their Greek, their Roman, or even their Hebrew names, as well as these more conventional spiritual conceptions, all rather bland in comparison to the ones I'm listing below, but, hey, whatever energies give YOU the strength to do what you got to do. Besides, you could always get all that other information really almost anywhere else. I'm not here to give you what you want, but rather, what you actually need, which, in this case, just happens to be some Old Gods that you can drop like astral atomic bombs. Yeah. You're welcome.
On that note:
Monday's were once for Dagon.
Tuesday's were once for Cthulhu.
Wednesday's were once for Nytharlathotep.
Thursday's were once for Yog-Sothoth.
Friday's were once for Shub-Niggurath.
Saturday's were once for Yig.
Sunday's were once for Azathoth.
Remember, while their followings are all now relatively small, all of these Gods are still very, very, big. Godzilla big (if only on the inside). Desperate times, however...
Well anyway, there's the "when" and the "who." As with the New Gods, I'll leave the "how" to your various fertile imaginations, although there's more than one version of the Necronomicon floating around out there; Perhaps you will even pen one of your own. Whatever happens, Good Luck and Namaste.