Wednesday, 22 February 2017

Axiom 904 - To Be A King (A Magician and a Fool, A Pilgrim and a Priest)


I am exacting in this as in all my life because I am acting as a king, which means that I may actually be a king.

Nature is the Cathedral for the Epic Living Vision That we are suspended in and we are born from and for that Cathedral of all we have to say and all whom we have to say it to and with. 

And every stage or phase of our lives has its own peculiar place in that Celestial Cathedral.
 

Axiom 903 - Celestial Brain Function


How we picture the heavens of so-called "outer space" reflects how much or little our brains can maintain their celestial functions as they correspond with every parameter of human well being. 

(Science fiction conventions are often tellingly celestial, take as they do after the metaphysical as kinetic mandates of the international military metaphysical occupation of all psychological human space and communication from body to to mind and from earth to heaven and back again - science "fact" is a waste land of any truly human (if "alien") proportions and are meant to be. Strategic "Spiritual" versions are a mix of both. When the Catholic Church believes in evolution or the Big Bang, one has to wonder about the the scope of their Roman mandate and strategic occupation of the churches of human blood woven through Man and Cosmos, through every nerve of human respiration, communication and desire across every sense and organ of Heaven and Earth.) 

The difference between health and insanity is the difference between pure compulsion and pure inspiration, between trusting human intelligence and reserving the right or power (if only in the name of some Authority on high) to arbitrate for what others say or think about their place (and that of all their mothers and fathers) in the cosmos of living creative intelligence, especially since this must either inhibit or promote whole communication pursuant to every single parameter of human health. There is not belief (or "fact") so bad (or consoling) than one that must be shared with others with a vehemence that might be better suited to the office (celestial Temple and School) of pure respiration than to the organs (Celestial and Terrestrial stories and voices) of pure inspiration.



Antanas Kiselis
"He doesn't qualify his statement with that that is the way one ought to act if one wants to increase wellbeing." - and what makes you think that well-being is good for people? In Aldous Huxley "brave new world" this topic is vividly analyzed in form of dystopian novel. What makes you think that misery and suffering has no place in human experience? But if you don't care for artistic expression, there are cases in psychotherapy when "improving" things destroys lives. 

From psychoanalytical perspective "maximizing well-being" is incoherent gibberish even to begin with.

I guess you get this idea from Sam Harris? Where he starts with assumption that there is point of maximum suffering which is unbearable in well-being scale and anything which is opposite of that is better. And my question.. is.. how do you know? Maybe at the other end is even worse. He doesn't talk about it. He does however analyze that there might be more ways than one to reach those higher points but how do you know that high point is what you want? I mean, it's funny, because some new atheists really criticize Heaven as being as bad as hell, infinite bliss. Isn't that hypothetically that well-being at it's maximum?

Well one can argue that being well off is something mixture of suffering and bliss. But I doubt it's as simple as determining percentages and doing arithmetic.

There are other failure points on Sam Harris moral landscape proposal... like having a loop much like "who created god" in it's scheme, you now if we let up to scientific method to determine values which itself gonna use to guide itself of what values it gonna employ. But that's a separate question.




Rayn Gryphon
+Antanas Kiselis
If you are disconnected from yourself, your life and your celestial family heritage then you are right; it matters little how happy or not either you or anyone is. You might as well be a brainless dog (as with any philosophy or psychology).

Which is likely all that you and your family will ever be - and to your credit to be sure. Because it takes a lot of courage to be anything else.

Good luck with that, really.

Not an easy path, if you could call it that.
 





Religious people Political people the same people whether they hate or love Trump or the Devil. Our species had given up, addicts of denial.  

Still think it necessarily true that the Earth moves around the Sun? Then you are as dangerously dumb as any cult of genital (and celestial) mutilation and transformation from Popes and Scientists, Luther to Lorentz, none of which are necessarily true but whose authority cannot fail to hold a narcotic allure for the very generations of family temples (brain development or coping psychosis) whose chemical addiction to barbaric transformations of native language of veritably celestial proportions has been cultivated or groomed as much as any infant upon the throbbing penis of however many Catholic, Republican or Buddhist "ministers."



"For the most beautiful, bountiful and eminently tragic part of life is not death or old age but having to get to be a baby all over again, especially knowing all we do about our alternately successful and failed respect for our own heritage, legacy and living creative intelligence as Man, a Temple that has most tellingly sustained a torture and transformation (in a life and language of religion and science a mixture of fiction and fact across every bound and picture and story of heaven and earth, one that farms and wholly symbiotic with an quite as astronomical mass human pathology that masks across every horizon of mind and culture the very screams it conceives of and must for every level of what it calls "economic growth" on earth. Our children and our own native heritage lay in those screams, and we shall their find them), a torture and transformation (from Luther to Lorentz*) of truly celestial proportions."

*Martin Luther and Hendrik Lorentz

- From Axioms 902 - Life, Lust, Blood and Story Create and Incorporate One Another




I am exacting in this as in all my life because I am acting as a king, which means that I may actually be a king.

Nature is the Cathedral for the Epic Living Vision That we are suspended in and we are born from and for that Cathedral of all we have to say and all whom we have to say it to and with. 

And every stage or phase of our lives has its own peculiar place in that Celestial Cathedral.

- Axiom 904 - To Be A King (A Magician and a Fool, A Pilgrim and a Priest)
 
See

Axioms 902 - Life, Lust, Blood and Story Create and Incorporate One Another

Axiom 903 - Celestial Brain Function






O'er the goblets line the troughs celestial canals
Over whose ever moonlit banks and shadows music of the wheels
These voices organs of the stars and hearts the zinfandel
That strike the chords of blood and thunder gods of their appeals
The spirit of an little child autumn in her bloom
A memory of pucks the blood and lusty gusts and gulps
Engulfed the substance of the Heavens and the Earth the womb
Incomprehensible as spelled dissembled every pulse
This language pictures notes and living stories suns and stars
As naked truth and beauty clothed with both as liberal as wise
Defied the churches of the Heavens and the Earth the shields
Of witches, bards and warlocks know by every hue of song and knowledge god and goddess Paradise
Unfolding growing strings and notes of all that was and was to be
The patter of the rain the lonely winds that howl at night
Or in the morning dotes upon the ravaged bodies we
Flesh out the voices faces as celestial as bright
As elemental forces cross this gulf of life and death the plants
And animals of bodies set among the stars the gold
And silver buckles heathen kings and queens rehearsed the throng of Motherlands
And ramparts, moats and flags these castles bodies bright and bold
From first emerging like the Sun the helm of Fall and Spring
The circle of the wheels of seasons, feelings, planets, beams
As rich as human blood is rich as any Queen or King
Embarked upon the cross of Man, of waking, sleep and dreams
That stain the heavens of some vast Cathedral and its wood
Of ships and cities in the clouds the figures carved from long
Ago upon supernal nerves of Earth and Heaven books
Of living pictures wholly symbiotic as the god
And goddess of a mother and a father speak the tongue
The body and the soul were stretched upon the wrack of words
Diverged from one another separated from the Sun
The consummation our voices organs of the birth
Upon the verge of life and death celestial abodes
That mingle like the Moon and Sun the blood of hearth and home
As heathen as our breathing here the school of senses five
And constellations of that Temple every child knows
As well themselves celestial proportions organs voices stories forces of their very minds 
Without the help of wise astronomers, economists or priests
Who glory in their abattoirs for human thought and blood
Perverted as converted into reflexes and needs
To breed the poison of salvation's science, courts of love
Celestial and grand as space and monuments with books
Of gilded tassels castles reaching up to heaven, spheres
And glasses for the meek extraction capital that looks
Like human children weaned upon a monster that appears
A friend in every higher heaven, legions of the kind
Convinced as Jesus (and other anatomically challenged saints) in the freedom they alone possess
Relieves them of the organs of their reasoned feeling lusty as combustible a mind
For something close to all they loathed turned into holiness
Would arbitrate for space and time and takes its every bow
For every native nature left that deadly priests and healers, doctors teachers and their legions will allow.




Psalms of Love - A Living Poetry
 







Monday, 20 February 2017

Axioms 902 - Life, Lust, Blood and Story Create and Incorporate One Another



Life, Lust, Blood and Story Create and Incorporate One Another

Thus is composed, dissembled, lived, known and spelled the face and wild grace of all that is and all that our blood remembers, transforms and passes on the God or Devil, King or Queen in Man and Nature, Heaven and Earth (and Hell). 

For all spheres (every element and organ) of life and desire are made up of our stories, and our stories are made up of all of the spheres of life and desire.






Listening is always a good idea. That and giving yourself license to whet a voice quite irrespective of how or even if it is heard or understood by others. For the human voice must live in a universe that finds its wild song and knowledge (god and goddess) immeasurably valuable or suffer the inhuman needs of a picture or universe that does not nor ever has had any but the most incidental place, in any place at all, for the stories with which we and all of creation bleed and speak from life to life and from day to day as with the Moon "whose changes ever run... into themselves to the eternal sun" (Shelley, Epipsychidion) if we be free, if we have that will and that desire from whence even the gods were born if from the deeps that shall forever be known only as well as they be unknown if not wholly speaking through every impulse, thought and desire encompassed by all sense and reason, longing and fantasy, vision and memory only barely sense the unbound horizon whom they cloak and are themselves clothed with impossible ecstasy, precision and a doubt as wild as the chariots moon and sun and star, of every cathedral and city of wind and cloud that dotes upon the currents of all that burns like the stars within the blood of human hearts and every organ of a body and soul that, as Blake intoned, are no separate nor could be from one another, lest our reach exceed our grasp (Browning).

Those who inspire me the most are most important to me, for they are as close to me, indeed, as my pen.

   
Let man wear the fell of the lion, woman the fleece of the sheep.
The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.

- William Blake (see below)



Life really really were a story by God and You and Me. Ours were to enjoy it to the utmost and to keep our voices as well oiled (as a sword or a sexual orifice or among all the celestial joints and orbits of body and soul - or the whole body by whom and with whom we live) as possible. To be Man were to be With that Mind with Whom were conceived all things, with Whom were continued all things and with Whom all changes in life and nature found their appointed order and ecstasy alike.

Man's is to wage a truly holy battle with the forces of nature and, at the same time, to gain nature's full if not wholly unqualified support.

Nut, Ana, Mother Goddess, you might as well ground or root your crown (your head) back into the bowels of this earth, because you and your vision of past and future (of the faces of your holy mother and father and all their peace entire) are coming back here anyway as surely as the sun will rise again or the most heady aromas of wildflowers shall find such celestial heights as must descend to the very hell from whence they spring from everlasting to everlasting fashioning and dissembling every robe of the throne and blood heritage of Man and Nature alike. 

For desires are not the end of life, though they go to - though whence - the very ends of senses five and beyond.

They (Desires) are life itself a life and our life whose every object and impulse found and sought the most boundless horizon, our being born again a matter of course, the force of life (sex and pleasure) itself.

Therefore, no true human (or truly reasonable vision of the cosmos) eschews being born again, nor abuses its holy language and whole celestial psychology of any song and knowledge worthy of the name.

The most that your living being or that of all of the cosmos of nature (Heaven and the Earth) can do is broadcast the creatively combined brilliance of life, of you, of those around you to veritably and inimitably celestial proportions.

This is what is meant by God, Goddess, Satan, Lucifer, Allah or Jesus Christ (the measures, heavens, hells, pleasures and electrical as celestial currents of the most well coordinated if so ecstatic consummation of the senses, the desires and the will force), all of which finds its most vulgar grammar and syntax though the very roots and clouds in the most crude and sexual organs of the emotional and celestial animal (and language of monumental romantic attraction and conception, of being and being born together in the voices and stories that clothe and are clothed by, that feed and are eaten by all Mind and Body) that is Man and Woman, of Celestial Body and Beast of the Evening Star that sparkles in the eye, the blood (and the cunt) of Man.

You are the Author (the divine as profane heir to the golden substance, current, currency, elemental alphabet and wonder) of the story of your life, the language of your life. And by Author we also mean heir to the most royal and most holy published works of all living creation and living creative intelligence, of all the wailing and singing voices of all Mankind across all the living pages of needs and feelings strewn like the gossamer webs of star and dew across all that is past, present and future, across every measure of time the changes in nature and in life that speak as to we of the purpose (in terms of our place and purpose in and with) of changes in nature and in life.

Would we hear the tortured changes that our language of life and life after life have sustained untold infernal realms of creative intelligence would bless you immeasurably.

Such a fortune, such a heritage calls to us all.

How, indeed, would you finish a paragraph like every few steps you take and every few thoughts and desires you breathe in communion with every league and season of heaven and earth, a paragraph that began with "In this story of a world where nobody has to suffer unduly....."

Is a seagull happy?

A bird no more than six ounces in weight can piss wherever it wants, shit wherever it wants, enjoy an veritably endless campaign or quest for basic nourishment, mate with whomever, conceive of a child and fly wherever and whenever it wants....

No wonder animals are so happy... until they meet the hunter's gun or any of innumerable dates with a destiny that is often, even then, incredibly swift as life itself.

It is the only life they that know. It is the most or only happiness they they know and one quite resplendent with every knowledge with which they conspire to eat and feed and live and die and live again, a consummation "devoutly to be wished."

And what is more, little birds (or rabbits or squirrels or mice) are not even the most sophisticated animals on Earth.

For the most beautiful, bountiful and eminently tragic part of life is not death or old age but having to get to be a baby all over again, especially knowing all we do about our alternately successful and failed respect for our own heritage, legacy and living creative intelligence as Man, a Temple that has most tellingly sustained a torture and transformation (in a life and language of religion and science a mixture of fiction and fact across every bound and picture and story of heaven and earth, one that farms and wholly symbiotic with an quite as astronomical mass human pathology that masks across every horizon of mind and culture the very screams it conceives of and must for every level of what it calls "economic growth" on earth. Our children and our own native heritage lay in those screams, and we shall their find them), a torture and transformation (from Luther to Lorentz*) of truly celestial proportions.

*Martin Luther and Hendrik Lorentz 

More on celestial corruptions see Axiom 903 - Celestial Brain Function

And I, for one, am changing that by listening to my people, to the screams, infernal regions and only and only as divine legions and seasons of the voices of my unborn children and holy ancestors go to every Maidenhead and every Mantle of the very forces of all that is feminine, masculine, earth and water, air and fire, sun and moon by every etheric substance and organ of and for the coordination of every organ and story of imagination and body, mind and matter, sex and marriage, birth and death, heaven and earth with all the ease with which I would breathe the truth of a beauty indeed the voices and stories of mine ancestors the sylvan people of every root and blossom and bough, every mountain, cloud and river, every brilliant and illimitable face and grace of heaven and earth, of here and hereafter and all the realms and spells, knowing and unknowing, growing and flowing of hearth and home, body and soul, blood and bone, fire and metal, leaf and stone.



 Following taken from 

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

William Blake, c. 1790


http://www.bartleby.com/235/253.html



A Memorable Fancy

  As I was walking among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments of Genius, which to Angels look like torment and insanity, I collected some of their Proverbs; thinking that as the sayings used in a nation mark its character, so the Proverbs of Hell show the nature of Infernal wisdom better than any description of buildings or garments.      24
  When I came home, on the abyss of the five senses, where a flat-sided steep frowns over the present world, I saw a mighty Devil, folded in black clouds, hovering on the sides of the rock: with corroding fires he wrote the following sentence now perceived by the minds of men, and read by them on earth:—
            How do you know but ev’ry Bird that cuts the airy way,
    Is an immense World of Delight, clos’d by your senses five?
      25

Proverbs of Hell

  In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.      26
  Drive your cart and your plough over the bones of the dead.      27
  The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.      28
  Prudence is a rich, ugly old maid courted by Incapacity.      29
  He who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence.      30
  The cut worm forgives the plough.      31
  Dip him in the river who loves water.      32
  A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees.      33
  He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star.      34
  Eternity is in love with the productions of time.      35
  The busy bee has no time for sorrow.      36
  The hours of folly are measur’d by the clock; but of wisdom, no clock can measure.      37
  All wholesome food is caught without a net or a trap.      38
  Bring out number, weight, and measure in a year of dearth.      39
  No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings.      40
  A dead body revenges not injuries.      41
  The most sublime act is to set another before you.      42
  If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.      43
  Folly is the cloak of knavery.      44
  Shame is Pride’s cloak.      45
  Prisons are built with stones of Law, brothels with bricks of Religion.      46
  The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.      47
  The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.      48
  The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God.      49
  The nakedness of woman is the work of God.      50
  Excess of sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps.      51
  The roaring of lions, the howling of wolves, the raging of the stormy sea, and the destructive sword are portions of eternity too great for the eye of man.      52
  The fox condemns the trap, not himself.      53
  Joys impregnate. Sorrows bring forth.      54
  Let man wear the fell of the lion, woman the fleece of the sheep.      55
  The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.      56
  The selfish, smiling fool, and the sullen, frowning fool shall be both thought wise, that they may be a rod.      57
  What is now proved was once only imagin’d.      58
  The rat, the mouse, the fox, the rabbit watch the roots; the lion, the tiger, the horse, the elephant watch the fruits.      59
  The cistern contains: the fountain overflows.      60
  One thought fills immensity.      61
  Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you.      62
  Everything possible to be believ’d is an image of truth.      63
  The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow.      64
  The fox provides for himself; but God provides for the lion.      65
  Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night.      66
  He who has suffer’d you to impose on him, knows you.      67
  As the plough follows words, so God rewards prayers.      68
  The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.      69
  Expect poison from the standing water.      70
  You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.      71
  Listen to the fool’s reproach! it is a kingly title!      72
  The eyes of fire, the nostrils of air, the mouth of water, the beard of earth.      73
  The weak in courage is strong in cunning.      74
  The apple tree never asks the beech how he shall grow; nor the lion, the horse, how he shall take his prey.      75
  The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest.      76
  If others had not been foolish, we should be so.      77
  The soul of sweet delight can never be defil’d.      78
  When thou seest an eagle, thou seest a portion of Genius; lift up thy head!      79
  As the caterpillar chooses the fairest leaves to lay her eggs on, so the priest lays his curse on the fairest joys.      80
  To create a little flower is the labour of ages.      81
  Damn braces. Bless relaxes.      82
  The best wine is the oldest, the best water the newest.      83
  Prayers plough not! Praises reap not!      84
  Joys laugh not! Sorrows weep not!      85
  The head Sublime, the heart Pathos, the genitals Beauty, the hands and feet Proportion.      86
  As the air to a bird or the sea to a fish, so is contempt to the contemptible.      87
  The crow wish’d everything was black, the owl that everything was white.      88
  Exuberance is Beauty.      89
  If the lion was advised by the fox, he would be cunning.      90
  Improvement makes straight roads; but the crooked roads without improvement are roads of Genius.      91
  Sooner murder an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires.      92
  Where man is not, nature is barren.      93
  Truth can never be told so as to be understood, and not be believ’d.      94
  Enough! or Too much.      95

  The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged and numerous senses could perceive.      96
  And particularly they studied the Genius of each city and country, placing it under its Mental Deity;      97
  Till a System was formed, which some took advantage of, and enslav’d the vulgar by attempting to realise or abstract the Mental Deities from their objects—thus began Priesthood;      98
  Choosing forms of worship from poetic tales.      99
  And at length they pronounc’d that the Gods had order’d such things.      100
  Thus men forgot that All Deities reside in the Human breast.











Thy rosette cheeks, thy rosette smile like thine rosette cunt
She is the season the celestial regions of mine whole content
This living language of the Heavens and the Earth the blood
Were quite as wild quite as mild, mean and radiant
A Beast of Beauty like the Venus in the sky the Queen
Of hunts the lion and the fox, the squirrel and the crow
Who know the medicines of so celestial a being
Altogether in the darkest living substance of the Soul
A pressure every living letter elements we breathe
If but to read the blood and flesh of one another words
This litter of the quiver in the river of the stars
A blossom consecrated by our congress with the womb the birth
These ripples in the Sun the Moon the roots descend to ours
Two distant trees an intervening ocean planets, air
And every kind of song that floats upon the blood of Man
The reign of heathen queen and king the Spring that doth compare
Thee to a Summer's temper if to know by all we can
Enjoy that pleasure of two growing visions only just
About the form or disappear a smile in the clouds
Somehow severe as ice and thunder running through the blood
The ebb and flow that would converge two voices, stories, mouths
So like a cunt will speak the blood a castle's family
Lay buried as a wreck, a ship beneath the deepest ocean waves
Two voices joined as earth and water rooted as a tree
A mountain all the mothers and the fathers in the face
That bleeds through even unto death the night into the morn
Or phases of the Moon that run like thee into the stains
These windows of a church the blood a Mother, memory that formed
A god and goddess wear their masks and habits of a chalice reigns
Like Spring She grows a garden clouds and beasts of leagues unto
The very center of the brain of Man of Man and thee
The axis of the world the pax romantic of the two
Together as celestial orbits changing never changing in our families
We only know because She bleeds the body into one
Another, birth's unfolding birth a world  strange people said
Its Gods were thunders war the torture formed the very Sun
Of the creation of the Heavens and the Earth the waters in our head
The children of a Moon condemned, their amniotic waters song and knowledge to the God
Who broke, it said, the firmament the Temple of our Holy Blood
Fleshed out descended down by leaf and cloud the steeple in the cunt
That lay thy body over mine and underneath the waves
This vision and thy vision's living letters broken, root and meet and grow again
This Temple natural as air and water, earth and light
Fleshed out created all the pleasure in the fairest most enchanted night
A song and knowledge god and goddess congress known yet
By lamps of all the churches burning with our very breath.









I hear thy footsteps in the, yes, illimitable dark
Of memory the rays of every page of change in Nature's book
A garden strewn with human temples made of earth and star
These currents as celestial bodies, voices, organs understood
Their own most living vision holy space for making life
The story gods in mind and body reaches of the mind
And body bleeding into one another man amd wife
Long before in every story being born and tried
These changes in our life and nature speaking through ourselves
Wyrd realms of every wild order Heaven and the Earth
The Beasts that speak the seasons peek around unfolding spells
We liberate from churches, schools and banks extract the universe
Of man and child the beginning Once upon a time
The birth, the dawn the dusk much more the god and goddess priests extolled
As people with no sex or human heritage divine
For being just as fucking filthy stories voices young and old
The white and yellow in the cloud the golden crowns the green
And browning grasses swaying dancing in the wind and pools
Our animals emotion crowns the Sun and Moon of thee
Who art the beating of mine heart the fortunes that I lose
Through the forming bark of trees the stories song and knowledge human voices passed
These living pictures scriptures made of making all the world the blood
As holy as complete an Kingdom Come our Motherland's
Ebullient orders forces organs stories bleeding in and out of everyone's
The bones of all my ancestors lay in this place; their heads
Will crack together every step from whence our minds shall ne'er return
Infernal regions of the damned the seasons of the depths
That no one know but for the peels of thunderous concussions o'er the Earth
A child knows as well as those upon whom hell hadst hold
The same allure that might hath graced the zenith of our homes
A crown once found whose rising path would never end for whom
That summit must become their passage back into the deepest womb
That arches An Almighty Body the illimitable deeps
That echo steps which grace the lips the dawn and dusk of memories.









"I am larger and better than I thought. I did not think I held so much goodness."

- Walt Whitman



Thy body is the temple of the knowledge all our way
Of truly living talking with the world of Man and Beast and There,
Beyond the far horizon of the peaks and clouds the gay
Imagination wild as thy body bright and fair
An instrument of life's desire stories all the Earth
Our stories forming in the bark and dark of trees the dawn of Spring
The failing health of Winter's frost a blessing for the birth
That will inter and welcome back the goodness of the king
Emerges from a war that tortured yet beyond the grave
Inestimable visions living riches (medicines and pictures of celestial allure) that lay in Man's
Attraction to the very body into whose whole Universe he wades
A strident interloper, strange, a stranger to these lands,
So falls to thee the sword that lay though fallen like a mossy staff of freedom from the grip
Of heathen kings and queens the power of the living words that we
Exhume the Star the deepest darkness pierced at first the winds
And storms the gloaming of the Earth this Kingdom Come that was and always was to be
Our voices making made of all these elements and hosts
Of spirits so attentive to these organs portents of
Our roiling stories past and future that begin to close
Upon the birth of new desires old as Nature's blood
A good and evil all the people mists and deeps and dark
Inimitable congregations forces of the Mind
Of man and nature and that consummation of the heart
The Royal Priest of milk or poison forces of so wild
Capitals of the imagination kingdoms crowned
These limbs that lose to gain the winds the lips of ceremonies wrought
The mountains of our people hewn their congress every bound
Mine senses five a sorrow burns with laughter blood with God's
Communion living scriptures stories summon summoned by
That sword the sting the voice the King and Queen inherit thus this Church
Fleshed out and wrested every sense the language of a child
Wild with that pleasure tempers Heaven and the Earth;
Go where we will we spill the Stars these Visions living alms
Conned from the faces mothers fathers children voices stir the spheres
Infernal Woods and Words that listen to the legacies of gods
And goddess song and knowledge who exchanged the waters Wealth and Beauty disappears
Into their whole desire plucks and forges such a Lord
And Venus born to burn the hell returns them to their wild Court.









All our fear and doubt confirmed the birth the very Sun of Man.



Moonlight tipped with dipped in shadow hounds of holy hell
Invoked by every stroke of night that overcomes the earth
A Star from out an inky sea an amniotic well
Impossible to comprehend as love is to rehearse
By any measure but the mind of war the whole campaign
A forest all the generations of the world their mounds
Permissive as the living folds a gold and silver brain
Essential as the roots of trees the leaves that do conceal if to reveal the crown
Fleshed out the living letters of the seasons of the dawn
That sweeps over the heaving folds of mountain, grass and streams
Inheriting the very blood that they converge upon
A Childe all that Man and Nature forged from war and love their families
These ribbons banners left to fly about like pollen in the air
Conspires fires in our blood the substance every form
That clothes by wondrous strokes of fortune robes that everywhere
Betray the naked consecration all our being born
That catches fire sparks of human hearths infernal flames
The engines of the night of Man protracted as it is
A thing obdurate as its darkling charms as many brains
As constellations make of every blood some avarice
To be a lamp unto the world a Hermit at his craft
Disturbing shallow pools inhabit moonlit shades of dark
If shrieking silence that escaped and flew into the Sun
A kind of sap into the trunk and branches of the heart
The pulse that must conceal itself so sayeth everyone
A story that must be forgotten riches lay to rest
Interred the very birth of Man the better to enjoy
The overwhelming spells of song and knowledge on our hot and consummately filthy breath
The very words that must converge upon some fabled crown some girl and boy
Endured preserved the darkness all the Earth the heresy the war
With every man and child wild as their love betrayed
Cast off to cast oneself upon the bark of some illumination for
A Spring of some uncertain hour gone like gods or dawns to come again
The trees the land that feeds their claim upon celestial spires
Shallows of these greater waters on the edge of sense
And memory the ancient congress voices and desires
That admit if to escape this cunt-tree's Providence
Of Pleasures at their Genesis electric as the Mind
Intoxicated by this commerce currents of the tips
An darkness as unfathomable as the roots that climbed
From their infernal writhing the anatomy of lips
Into whose folds and gates of ancient transformation and allure
Were pulled these wars into their orbits lovers to a well
Where kings and queens on bended knees slaked mightily their thirsts
And took their rightful place their blood in Heaven and in Hell
Spelled even far beyond the reaches bleed and seep into the tongues of men
Confused with all their lusts commune the Moon with frenzy, fear and then
From Once upon a time the nature of the mind the lust
That takes its place these shadows waves of ecstasy so wild and celestial a blood.





Psalms of Love - A Living Poetry



I am exacting in this as in all my life because I am acting as a king, which means that I may actually be a king.


Nature is the Cathedral for the Epic Living Vision That we are suspended in and we are born from and for that Cathedral of all we have to say and all whom we have to say it to and with. And every stage or phase of our lives has its own peculiar place in that Celestial Cathedral.










Thursday, 16 February 2017

Axiom 901 - Carl Jung and Cybernetic Algorithms



The collective unconscious given to Man by Carl Jung and his buddies in the War Office of the world were like any saviour or god, it is ours, we made it and it influences us beyond all comprehension. It might as well be called the collective loss of brain function.






"We are ruled by that which we are most unconscious of. Thus, all genuine growth comes from admitting into our lives or minds the most unconscious material of our lives and minds. And we naturally resist this in ourselves and in others as though the opposite were true - that our life and growth came from prohibiting such unconscious material."










The world is so hard on the human brain that people become unaccountably convinced by having assimilated such a world that any subsequent love, kindness or analysis should necessarily preclude (though prohibitively "negative"*) examining the true scale of distortion and disruption of every dimension of Man and Nature, of good and evil and of mind and matter, of life and death, of conception and the truly celestial proportions of the fundamental symbiosis of the individual and the family unit as though can not only fix such a world but can only do so by ignoring the true scale of the voice of the world and so of the children and the vision of truly human heritage that lives through its horrific veils of "freedom" and the as though insurmountable logistics of "civilization" and "human nature." 

*Also See Axiom 900 - The Sun
 

The world were beset with the screams of an infant of astronomical if understandable and as understandably demanding pathology.

But to examine that which we have assimilated (as we will our total environment) is to draw ourselves into question and, what is worse, draw our roles in spite of ourselves and our heritage into question, which is to threaten every surviving coordinate for peace and power.

This is a psychological version of the Cybernetic Algorithm that sells by every spell of a cybernetic society advantage of giving up or being disabused though for your own good of your native mind and family psychology pursuant to every kind of peace and safety that this algorithm must impugn and torture beyond all subsequent notice or interest and so breeding a pathological incompetence and ineptitude that is tacitly integral to every form of human safety, progress or salvation ages over.

And it works! 

The Jungian and Freudian unconscious is the dark matter of astronomical social pathology - it covers a host of sins and human etheric heritage. 

"We don't know where it is or what it is but it will get you."

Mental growth, birth and sublimation are wholly natural. In fact, that is all nature does and with these discrete elements of all voice and story, memory, destiny, cause and effect celestial as terrestrial.

The unconscious described by institutionalized "knowledge" is the strategic pressure exerted upon though the sole language of relief from military-grade social (and even celestial) mechanics for extracting human capital.

To be directed by unknown "social" influences upon the mind that you call the fates is not the bane of institutionalized education but the whole purpose of it. Therefore, it is not the answer to but the testament to strategic insinuations into for gaining the animating power of surviving biological and psychological congress and heritage that makes for the most influential if patently dehumanized astronomical and so god like pathology most symbiotic with every court, church and school for extracting though actually making adequate and humane provisions for inimitable human capital the locus of all wealth and power earthly and divine.






ad astra per ecstasis


Awakened in and by the petals worlds perfumed the air
I have no words but these the treats of someone like a God
The paracletes of eagles the illuminated chair
Whose arms had rested in the stars and in the earth its claw
This body at the mercy He or She I know not Whom
To thank or blame but that the flames the court of Earth and Sky
Will tend to grow the more I paint the story of the Womb
Who left me on so distant shore a sphere of spheres that I
Were nestled in by faintest recollection in the clouds
Of dawn and flowers scent the air with something of the blood
That was the world before the world had elements and bounds
To sound so overwhelming food this King and Queen this heathen God and Goddess in the Sun
That spoke a mother and a father spoke to us or would
The mind of Man or child hear and feel the touch the blood of they
Had long ago ignited so celestial a Book
Whose pages folds of mind and matter spelled the earth and heaven night and day
Dissembled ever changing organs roiling in the charge
And march of seasons speaking loosely understood as thee
Who from the story of mine blood had parted from the heart's
Defiant wish to live unfettered in the restful shade an sylvan family
As rough as bark as sweet a blossom that festooned the roof
Of boughs and arches underground the animal the Earth
Alive as is the human Temple organs spheres that move
Under the power and the glory every transformation of the Universe
These words that must escape the lips with every breath of life
An alphabet that loses every beat of blood with whom it knows
The richest wealth that in itself and someone else espies
Beyond and with its every consummation dawns the robes
A throne of holy stories voices roiling crowns that change
Sustaining elements of Heaven and the Earth combined
The amniotic cosmic ocean of their whole conception the supernal capes
A maidenhood that in itself illuminates that mind's
Own roots and shoots that mingle every tingle of the blood
The laws of every consummation feeds upon its fruits
Intoxicated every generation all that was
That would become a river runs the phases of the Sun's and Moon's
Own warmth and coolness would reveal, conceal and strip from thee One body for another body born from wrought in God's own ecstasy.





Psalms of Love - A Living Poetry
 




Our souls are like those orphans grey who wail about in throws of unassailable envy, fear and impossibly pleasurable salvation. The World.

People must fail to understand that the religious or spiritual modes of psyche are the most integral elements for extracting human capital.

One would want to apprehend the world with as much psychological resolution as possible. Only total social apostates can possibly do this.



See Axiom 832 - The Mind of our Mind (Apostatizing from World) 





She is but Thee, Most Gracious God the Ruler of my Fate
Through all the changes of my life the phases of the Moon



They who form with pleasure all the vessel for the birth
By light of early morning forms upon the human mind
A child from the marriage of the Heavens and the Earth
The face the Sun a Man as One together and beside
Each other underneath the sky the belly that is marked
Concussions that hath warped the fabric of that Temple's stream
A river delicate as petals lifted by the stars
A voice or story forms upon escaping out of thee
A Man and Woman joined to bursting as the dawn upon
Contractions of desires that would loose themselves the realms
Horizons every object of the impulse of the spells the gods that stretch across the breadths of change and growth
The whole desire bursts upon the Earth like ancient helms
The living impulse of the congress bodies, minds and souls
Across the heavens of the very memories delight
A child even as they glean though from the stars the faint
Sustaining promise that conception fleshed out of the night
The Temple of celestial beasts who lay where we hath laint
A current which would nourish living visions that admit
The charms of human hearts in something of a shy resolve
That hears like faithful hear the words that might adorn the lips
And winds an heathen king and queen who feel the very pulse
An darkness slips over the land by hours and by years
Lay waste to greater minds than these and yet reward as may
The hardest storm a feeling borne aloft that body rears
From out of organs of the dusk, the dawn, the furtive touch
That pays imagination mixed beyond recall the sense
Whet by so many forces wars that would destroy these cups
A blood communion quite as beautiful a radiance
That stirs even the blasted deeps and these supernal chords
As every bit that bellow smitten by the sound of mine and yours. 







For it was said in those days that the righteous would be wary but fair, strong but even handed.

And so it came that a nation was born





My study of philology has alerted me to the fact that our ancestors readily employed what we would dismiss as unnecessarily banal or crude descriptions, keenly sensible as they were of Man's biological functions entire as they attended the most celestial psycho-dynamics of life, growth, regeneration and conception of every order and organ of Man and Nature, family and individual.

M-An is or is of the Womb and a Woman is Two-Man or the Womb of Man interchangeably. A country is a cunt-tree. A country and a family are inextricably bound up together or set asunder to immeasurable costs borne by successive generations in ways that are utterly wed, in turn, to the "success" of a cybernetic-industrial society and all of its religions of peace and freedom.

"All religions and philosophies of peace and liberty are actually martial religions that farm a versatile (you might say liberal) delusional psychosis of dubious ethical (or surviving brain) capacity. That is the primary purpose and effect of all schools and churches on Earth, western or eastern, modern or archaic."

- Axiom 900 - The Sun


"One would want to apprehend the world with as much psychological resolution as possible. Only total social apostates can possibly do this."

- Axiom 901 - Carl Jung and Cybernetic Algorithms





The nature of reality is the reality of nature.

- Axiom 833 - Divine and Profane The Same


 










Tuesday, 14 February 2017

Valentine is a Cad - A Living School


One must assume that she wishes to be admired, for I do so wish to admire her.

A kiss would have no less effect upon me than the way she walks into my morning and then gently walks away.

She always seems to be hiding her face behind no veil whatsoever....

Her body says everything. But the very feet that bring her to me are always taking her away. How can I trust them?

And her voice is something that will forever stay in my ears.

They are ringing even now ever so faintly, calling me not to her but to my life, my breath and all of the most excellent stories that I have to tell and do tell over and over again.

She wants to tell me a story I know.

I can see it in the way she looks away from me and at me all at once, as though something she has yet discovered how to say (or to whom) might clear no veil in particular out of her way.

This may only happen one day of the year.

Or I may never escape this particular orbit.

If not, this is my sun.

If not, this is my home. 



See Axiom 900 - The Sun





The measures heavens and the earth the edges of the Sun
The face a mother and a father graces everyone




First light of dawn the birds and buds that spring that spring for thee
The alphabet of earth and water, air and fire, man and wife
An consummation all-involving amniotic tree
These measures of the Earth and Heaven edges of the rise
From out of the illimitable darkness dwells the wild
Mind of Man the chalice of the blood that lives and stirs
With every element of god and goddess words a child's
Mind and body wholly born the Heavens and the Earth
Escape the lips and medicines of Man and Beast the dark
And hydromantic pictures in the pulse of Night and Day,
Senses and their objects Visions organs of the Stars
That course with blood that runs a thunder slips but never slips away
The face (the Star) the substance of the face (the Star) of inner space and there
These limbs of hymns that slip through clouds of dawn and sounds of Spring
And Winter sleep that keeps the pulse and vision of so fair
A marriage chalice points that speak of thee through everything
Of flesh and mind, of sorrow and desire quests would wrest
From the religions of the hatred and protection from
That consummation like a face emerges from the depths
The elements the very edges of an holy Sun
Bequeath by blood to every son and daughter, man and wife
So intimate as native measures every breadth of Paradise.












"Could I be worthy, would I worthy of conceiving or revealing a sufficiently living cosmic image (an image the river every breadth, depth and letter every direction and colour, season, tide and feeling, every scent and memory of a Dream of Heaven and Earth forever passing and expanding through the as though unbounded radiation the illimitable substance, wonder, force and fulfillment of itself, of a child, here and hereafter), a sufficient image to caress your body and soul with your own most blissfully familiar sense of yourself forever I would consider my life complete and completely well spent."

For My Love - A Living School (2015)





"Hell, even Shangri-La is not quite the Shangri-La it makes itself out to be, if my recent studies are correct, so where does that leave us? Stranded on a pin prick in the dark infinity that lay beyond with one less delusion with which to console ourselves, far as I can guess. 

"You know, even with my relatively bohemian lifestyle, I must confess that I often get up to rather more work at the ol' salt mine than is good for me. Not long ago I was working over fourteen hours a day finishing books that have about as much chance of being read as the Canadian tax code (or less, since some people are forced to read the tax code and even then the incentive is rather less literary than pecuniary, a realm of holy writs in which whole dynasties of love, marriage, birth and trips to the Cape can be taken up like Dorothy into alternating cyclones of fortune and ruin, but I digress).

"I do hope you get your day to lounge about precisely as you imagine. And as insurance against that day, I promise to play a hapless loner goat herder to your Lady of Shallot. I don't make fun.

"It sounds like you will make it through, however, and when you do, I would be most happy to see you.

"Until that time, if I can be of any assistance (or even serve as comic relief) then please do not hesitate.

"And yes, I know full well that I have stolen your therapy for mine, which I find is almost always the case when deprived of any real capacity to be of any greater assistance than to lament my own terrible good fortune at having been born without a heart dear enough or courageous enough to steal or be stolen up.

"And so with my sympathy you have my admiration, honestly.

"You need only tell me that you are building a person out of elements fainter hearts need not even contemplate, much less the incomprehensible alchemy of hope and poetry when all hope is gone."


Correspondence (of Love and Eunice) 2015













A Fertile Circle of Life - A Living School




My heart aches
For these people
So well versed
At hurting themselves,
At self-hatred.



The more I learn about the world, the less I can tolerate the company of other people, the more I learn about the world. One fertile circle.




"Only trust Muslims if they denounce terrorism."

Let's do the same for all cults, including Americanism, Canadianism, Britishism.... you get my gism.






You ever notice how many if not most people are woefully short of a consistently global capacity for even rudimentary ethical (and aesthetic) reasoning that bears even the most esoteric allusions to the voices in the wombs of our children?

If so, join the club.

This month we are having a sale: 

Trade in a delusional psychosis that extols though one's very right to breathe the woeful exclusion of the voice of any very considerable gaps in our right to consistently ethically-discriminating loving attention that is the proper work of Man, to enjoy the full gravity of his situation in life and so the most economic and ethical buoyancy that waits there, too.



msanto
Free Speech is equality for all!



Gerdronex
Sadly most muslims don't think like that at all



Tayn Gryphon
+Gerdronex
Correction. Most people would think they were being abducted by aliens if one single original thought sprang from their perpetually tortured minds. And that's a fact.

Most people do not even know the first thing about where they live or how they got there.

And that is what makes society so successful.

And everybody knows it.

Peace and Freedom and Democracy are some of the biggest religions. People know they are shit but they play their dutiful role in keeping up the pretense because they know it is hopeless. 


All religions and philosophies of peace and liberty are actually martial religions that farm a versatile (you might say liberal) delusional psychosis of dubious ethical (or surviving brain) capacity. That is the primary purpose and effect of all schools and churches on Earth, western or eastern, modern or archaic.

As evidence of this, only notice the fact that you have never even noticed this most evident of facts.


"One would want to apprehend the world with as much psychological resolution as possible. Only total social apostates can possibly do this."

- Axiom 901 - Carl Jung and Cybernetic Algorithms


From Asimov's Foundation series to Huxley's Brave New World to Orwell to H. G. Wells' Time Machine it is all spelled out for your entertainment because it is understood that you hate yourself, your mind and your family that much you will swallow it with relish and count yourself a truly educated or spiritual person, one of the "awakened," which is what you are, a low level initiate to a cult that would eat your child's blood while they are still screaming.

Now, if you would like to celebrate your new found wisdom with a day of sobriety, I would be most happy to talk.

If not, go fuck yourself and all your anatomically-incorrect gods and "models of knowledge."
 


https://youtu.be/KRJKOtM-onM 

Morrison was all Military (CIA and the Occult control of the 60's "Revolution" as with all the protests today).

Epcot on Steroids





Your life and the fate of all the world will invariably turn on a platitude.

"Punch Trump"

"Hands up"

"Turn on, Tune in, Drop out"

"Black Lives Matter"

"Make America Great Again"

"Jesus Saves"

"Allah is Great"

"I'm Lovin' It"

"Let's roll"

"Fight the good fight"

"Forget the Past"

"Be here now"

"The wave of the future"

"Space Race"

"Putin is evil" 





"The Orifice of the President will issue forth a statement later today. First we need to tuck in to some Afghani and Palestinian children."





Rayn Gryphon

Top Ten Quran Verses for Understanding ISIS (the Islamic State)
Acts17Apologetics

https://youtu.be/LXBgqa-xQwY

Cultural Jihad tells Muslims that it is okay and even necessary to lie to unbelievers and this is clearly supported by international State Departments, as the Muslim Brotherhood is pretty high up in the food chain of the international metaphysical military intelligence mafia:

Muslim shows her true colors after selfie
Dornie Tranders
https://youtu.be/Vk_mkogfp1c



From Axiom 900 - The Sun




You ever notice how many if not most people are woefully short of a consistently global capacity for even rudimentary ethical (and aesthetic) reasoning that bears even the most esoteric allusions to the voices in the wombs of our children?

If so, join the club.

This month we are having a sale: 

Trade in a delusional psychosis that extols though one's very right to breathe the woeful exclusion of the voice of any very considerable gaps in our right to consistently ethically-discriminating loving attention that is the proper work of Man, to enjoy the full gravity of his situation in life and so the most economic and ethical buoyancy that waits there, too.



With all deference to your dear old Oma and Opa, to know the human species is not to love them. But changing this would mean admitting it. 





The measures heavens and the earth the edges of the Sun
The face a mother and a father graces everyone



There was and is a blood befits the organs that we use
To give and take with every slake of breath our dearest words
Impressed upon the heart will crack the dawn out of the womb's
Monopoly upon the language of the Universe
A secret Rose a Woman's longing Beauty only knows the looming Sun
And Moon who altogether take communion in the font
Of Man and Nature's language pleasures leavening the blood
Celestial as every measure we bequeath to gods;
We move around about the commerce of our lives the stars
As startled that we know, it seems, so little of the voice
As astronomical it were as so compatible the heart's
Own reign its consummation any holy Saint enjoys
The living riches rivers quivers sing the songs of losses, lusts and cares
The blood of Man and nature's holy equipage of beasts
Celestial as organs stories elemental tares
As wanted and unwanted as compelled by ecstasies
Sustained in their enduring pains and pleasures transformations of
This bone and body of the Earth that bleeds into the human mind and back
Again the human brain as crowned a marriage and a passion play the blood
Of vascular proportions these of seasons reaches of our Motherland;
I picked a Rose with all my heart and soul I knew the Truth
And Beauty grew by all we knew the letters, plants and heavens gardens all around the throne
This wholly royal language of the nature of the Dawn (the God) the Womb
A Mother and a Father born with all we art together and alone
This Dawn that bears our blood aloft a litter living letters ribbons of a Temple Heaven and the Earth
These limpid pools of all we lose ourselves we lose our minds
To all that finds a mother or a child's royal words
That consummation blood and wonder spills o'er cups and stars and hearts and censors measures of The Life and Times
Of memories that took their very amniotic substance spelled the force
And purpose we dissembled every picture in a Living Book
Whose pages fluttered in the leaves and grasses surged and coursed
This sacred knowledge bloomed and stained with filth's refrain the unremitting Congress of the cares it shook
The Stars the vaulted ceiling of the Heavens by the day
This dawning that consumed itself the feet that brought and took thy Royal Holy form celestial away.






- Psalms of Love - A Living Poetry















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