mardi 19 novembre 2019

Abaddon is secretly none other than the Lord All-Mighty

 Simply follow this train of thought:

 Mythologically speaking, the Great God Pan (Greeks) is Cernunnos (Celtics), is Lord Pashupati (Vedic Civilization), is Lord Shiva (Hinduism), all deeply connected through the symbolism surrounding the LHC over at CERN (plenty written about that everywhere already), and CERN-unnos, Shiva, are directly connected to Abaddon/Apollyon through the location of the LHC itself, where an ancient temple devoted to his worship used to be. In Judeo-Christianity, Abaddon/Apollyon is not only the "angel" of the Abyss/bottomless pit, but also the key, the guardian and the bottomless pit itself; in other words, he is what Lovecraft attempted to describe as Yog-Sothoth, eternity given form, the key, the guardian and the "gate" between worlds as one, where the spheres meet, always on the verge of unleashing cosmic horrors upon humanity when the end comes.

 In the Book of Revelations, it is clearly implied that Abaddon is, by far, the most powerful being in all of creation, moreso than the archangel Michael and Jesus Christ. Where? Chapter 20, verses 1-3, the angel of the Abyss intervenes to lock up Satan for a thousand years. When both the archangel Michael and Jesus Christ want to subdue Satan, they have to go to war with all of their followers, the biggest wars both Heaven and Earth have ever seen. Not Abaddon. He simply takes Satan, effortlessly, without struggle, chains him up and casts him down into the Abyss; Abaddon is, by definition, all-powerful. Not to mention that according to certain Apocrypha (especially "The Enthronement of Abbaton" by pseudo-Timothy of Alexandria), the veneration of Abaddon alone ensures salvation in the afterlife, for he alone is feared by both angels and demons alike.

 You have to ask yourself: Who is more powerful than Michael, the Son of God and Satan combined? Who is "The Eternal" (Yahweh can literally be translated as "past, present, future as one", the same as Yog-Sothoth)? Who can offer both spiritual salvation and apocalyptic annihilation at will, without Jesus being involved, since he's above Jesus in power?

 Well, as we established way at the beginning, Abaddon is merely another, more subtle name for the Great God Pan. Jesus is man/good/light personnified, Satan is goat/evil/darkness. Pan is both man and goat, good and evil, light and darkness as one, both the Creator and the Destroyer, and just as Abaddon and the Christian God, he is feared by all who know Him, for to see Him is to die.

vendredi 12 avril 2019

"Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee."

 After my six-hour long near-death experience over eight years ago (in which I entered a state of indescribable communion with the Great God Pan in his highest cosmic form, up at the sephira Chokmah of the Tree of Life, contrary to my expectations, which were either Jesus or Solaris), my mother told me that the first time she came to visit me at the hospital, right after surgery when I was practically comatose, she clearly heard her sister's voice coming out of my mouth, as if I was nothing more than a speaking tube. My aunt was telling her "I'm so sorry, I was so selfish, I'm so sorry..." over and over again.

 That freaked my mother the f**k out, so much so that she was still very deeply disturbed even a year afterwards. I naturally DIDN'T tell her about my whole experience on the other side, the part when I fell into Pan's endlessly spiralling ram's horns, literally made of stars, and ended up walking down a spiral staircase made of black stone. Not a proper staircase really, simply steps made of obsidian or more probably onyx, floating above oblivion. After quite some time walking down the onyx steps, I found my aunt completely listless on the stairs (she had also violently commited suicide five years earlier), and she said "This is the abyss, the bottomless pit, where all of the lost souls end up, I've been here forever, there's no escape, I'm more lost than ever, I've just lied down and given up." Without thinking, I took her hand and replied "You're not lost anymore, I've found you." She looked up, her eyes full of life again, and said "James, I love you, I love you so much..." and that was it, next thing I remember was waking up at the hospital days later.

 About a month later, I was at the public library, when I noticed a tall, young, beautiful woman looking at me, smiling. She looked familiar, but I couldn't remember who she was. She came up to me and asked "You look familiar, do I know you? Tell me your name." But I felt so incredibly uncomfortable looking at her face up close, it didn't seem right. In retrospect, it was like when they digitally de-age an actor for a Marvel movie; yeah, it technically looks perfect, but there's just something... "off" about it, too perfect. So I just told her "No, I'm sorry, I'm not going to tell you my name." and she just whimsically replied "Okay." AS SOON AS SHE WALKED AWAY, it suddenly hit me that she obviously was my aunt, looking as she did in my childhood, when she was in her twenties. When I turned around, she literally disappeared.

 I rationalized it as an unintentional "Orpheus travelling to the Underworld to rescue the soul of a loved one" sort-of-thing, but more successful. Haven't seen her since.

mercredi 29 août 2018


 I've finally watched and re-watched the last season of Twin Peaks, and my conclusion is this:

 Supernatural Evil acts exactly like an extraterrestrial force. The "Jowday" (old English for Jaw or Jowl of the Day, in other words the "Devourer of Light") plants seeds everywhere, at every opportunity, a very agressive panspermia. It wants for darkness and ruin to spread, and turn our entire world into a living hell, similar to its own habitat. That's terraformation, as we're all either contaminated and broken by evil or simply replaced by extremely dark versions of ourselves.

 And now, in real life, we're being conditionned to accept the reality of ancient pagan gods as paganism is making a sudden and violent comeback, while at the same time being constantly bombarded with the supposed inevitability of alien first contact in the not-so-distant future.

 Real-life SPOILERS: The revived pagan gods and our extraterrestrial visitors will reveal themselves to be one and the same ("ancient aliens"), and they will demand our environment, our genome and our very minds be modified, for our survival's sake. The ultimate abandon of conventional morality, the ultimate normalization of Satanism, pedophilia, cannibalism and who knows what else might ruin us and bind us to darkness eternal.


mardi 5 décembre 2017

A different perspective.

A classic story from Hinduism:

Lord Shiva and his Shakti, the goddess Parvati, are enjoying each other's company. She asks him which of her avatars he prefers, certain he will say it is her present form as Parvati, the most virtuous and peaceful of all mothers. But no! He says he prefers her as Kali, the bloodthirsty black goddess of death, for he prefers her in her most insanely chaotic form, when she tramples all over him and his creation.

Now, remember, Lord Shiva was originally Lord Pashupati of the more ancient Vedic Civilization, "lord of the animals" with legs crossed and gigantic horns on his head, in other words, the Cernunnos of the Celtic people and the Great God Pan of the Ancient Greeks.

Having bled out and been reduced to nothing more than a cold piece of meat for six hours nearly seven years ago, I now KNOW who the Creator of the Universe happens to be up at Chokmah, among the stars and beyond the stars. So let's reinterpret the story above:

The Great God Pan and his Shekinah, the Virgin Mary, are enjoying each other's company. She asks him which of her avatars he prefers, certain he will say it is her present form as the Virgin Mary, the most virtuous and peaceful of all mothers. But no! He says he prefers her as Babylon the Great, the bloodthirsty, filthy whore of Revelations, for he prefers her in her most insanely chaotic form, when she tramples all over him and his creation.

Our creator the Great God Pan is the ultimate rock star among the gods, after all. He drinks, plays terrible music really loud, and he loves his whores. The Apocalypse is just the latest story he's telling to keep himself entertained.

mardi 19 septembre 2017

What's the difference between the angel of the Morning Star or an alien from the planet Venus?

Dolores Barrios, another Venusian (or perhaps the same?) photographed at a UFO conference in 1954. Notice the strange, otherworldly eyes.

 The most primordial version of the "mermaid" story comes from Lake Titicaca, Bolivia/Peru, as written once and only once in Robert Charroux's phenomenal but mostly forgotten "L'Histoire Inconnue des Hommes depuis 100,000 ans" ("100,000 years of man's unknown history"). Her name was Orejona, and I've been obsessed with her since the age of 10. I've even had her name tattooed on my right arm.

 The very early pre-Inca people (and the few still extant Aimara tribes of the Andes) believed that 5 million years ago, a blue-skinned, blue-blooded amphibian female from the planet Venus came down to Earth, landed in her golden vessel on the Island of the Sun in the middle of the Lake, and mated with a prehistoric animal, either a large ape or an anteater-pig (!), giving birth to the very first animal-man, who would later become the first modern man, and remember her on a very deep ancestral level, mostly in their dreams and their psychedelic experiences, and base religions on this goddess from the sea.

 She might still be alive today, since they said she returned merely 40,000 years ago, to build the holy city of Tiahuanaco, and the famous giant stone "Door of the Sun", which was originally named the "Door to Venus", before the Spanish Conquistadors renamed it, renamed everything having to do with the Inca worship of the Venusians, and slaughtered over 99% of the population.

 There was even a story of how a Jesuit priest found the biggest, most beautiful green emerald in the world in an Inca temple, bearing an image of Orejona herself on it, so he had the emerald shattered into pieces, ground into dust and trampled it into the earth. The Church was REALLY f***ing serious about making people forget about her, they even cut out some of her followers' tongues, but fortunately the Inca high priests, the Orejones (the long-ears), they hid the sacred knowledge for centuries, until a great revival of the Inca faith began in 1958 precisely near Titicaca.

 On the same subject, you should also know about something called "Project Stargate", run by the D.I.A. back in the early 1980s. They used remote-viewers who projected their consciousness back in time to bear witness to the most important events in history (seriously, this has been officially declassified since). For their ultimate experiment, they sent their best "psychic spy" to view the origins of the human race millions of years ago. The result?

 A naked, feminine extraterrestrial being, aboard her "seedship" in the sea, using her own DNA to genetically engineer the first ape-men. This aquatic creature was tending to us like "plants in a garden".

 I'm starting to think she might be the Goddess Venus/Anima Mundi/Soul of the World itself. The Shekinah, the Shakti, the Shub-Niggurath, the one with a thousand faces who gave life to life itself.

mardi 17 janvier 2017

It's raining frogs!

The "Pepe the frog/Kek" phenomenon has now taken the form of the "Dark Kermit" internet meme, Kermit the frog standing in shadow, dressed like the Emperor in Star Wars.

Which makes sense, since Kermit sounds like Kemet, the Ancient Egyptian name of Ancient Egypt itself, and Kek is straight out of Kemet, meaning "dark/black".

But most people seem unaware that the "fleur-de-lys" is openly Donald Trump's symbol, as seen on the "Man of the Year" magazine cover, for he was sitting in a chair/throne with a giant fleur-de-lys on it. For centuries now, the fleur-de-lys has represented royalty or divinity, but long before French king Clovis 1st christianized it, calling it precisely the "lily flower" and a symbol of the Saint Trinity, it was a frog.

I'm not kidding. The previous design of the fleur-de-lys was much more bulbous, and somewhat ressembled a frog or toad. The original reason why the French people were called "frogs" was because of the three stylized frogs/toads on their shields.

It was an ancient Celtic symbol, said to represent something emerging from the primordial waters/darkness and crawling towards the light of the heavens (EXACTLY like Kek). Druids believed it to be the most subtle and harmless form of Cernunnos.

Mother f***ing Cernunnos, the Celtic version of the Great God Pan, a.k.a. the Lord of the Underworld, Shiva the Destroyer (who was absolutely identical to Cernunnos in his original form of Lord Pashupati of the Vedic civilisation), "The One who resides among the stars and beyond the stars in that unimaginable cosmic realm known as the Sabbaoth" (according to the most ancient Sabean faith which predates Judaism by millenia and was secretly at the basis of Aleister Crowley's theosophy), whatever you want to call it.

TSATHOGGUA, for f***'s sake. He's on our side now, or at least he's coming THROUGH to our side.

Interesting times.

samedi 7 juin 2014

The Blur.

I met a very familiar stranger in a dream. He was Merlin, he was Prometheus, he was the archetypal wise old man who initiates us all in one form or another when we are finally willing to accept enlightenment.

To me, he looked like Alan Moore, wearing a pale grey suit that obviously belonged to someone else.

We were sitting at an ordinary kitchen table, besides a rather large television set, surrounded by "co-workers". I also knew them even though we had never met (not in my waking reality, anyway). We were all looking at books filled with pictures of breathtakingly elaborate crop circles and infinitely moving fractal patterns.

The wise old man, he told me: "What if all there is between you and other people is a blur?"

I looked at my hands, and they were so blurry that I could see through them. I heard a bone-chilling sound, like a washer and a dryer being thrown down the stairs, and suddenly woke up paralysed, terrified, and covered in cold sweat.

This was my very first DMT-induced experience, and it traumatized me something beautiful. Instant, visceral enlightenment that leaves me today with euphoria.

I now KNOW that the individual is as much a set of probabilities as an electron, neither here nor there, existing at many places at once. What if I had woken up in that parallel universe I briefly visited? This life would have been merely a "dream".

mercredi 2 mars 2011

You wanna know how I got these scars?

On the night of February 6th, I placed a mirror against the wall of my room, sat down on my bed in front of it, looked at myself straight in the eyes, and very calmly slit my own throat.

Earlier, on the internet, I reviewed the essentials; where the jugular is, how long it would take. A mere 1 to 3 minutes, it was written. I bought a very precise tool for the job, an insanely sharp Japanese Santoku knife, it seemed fitting since I was about to perform the honorable ritual of Jigai. I was so indescribably sick and tired of this world, of feeling nothing more than pain every day, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

It took 4 hours. Very calmly slicing one vein after another on both sides. Watching the warm, sticky blood spray across the mirror and running down my chest. I found it both surreal and darkly hilarious when, around 2:30 in the morning, I realized that not a single drop was left. I stood up, looked at all of the red mess everywhere, at the dried-up blackness of my own hands. I had peed four times in a bottle during the ordeal.

I couldn't believe I was still alive. I couldn't stay like this, it was an impossible horror show. I went to the bathroom to get a brand-new bottle of 30 very powerful sleeping pills, which were lethal unto themselves. I finally fell asleep, holding a picture of the redheaded goddess I once loved, thinking it was over. I would wake up somewhere else.

Beyond my last moments of consciousness, there was a vision of Pan. His most abysmal of eyes were hypnotic. As I admired the finer details of his big beautiful horns, like endless spiral stairways, I wondered if this was the afterlife.

I woke up two days later at the hospital. The doctors told my parents that they didn't understand how it was possible for me to still be alive, I had lost nearly all of my blood and then irreversibly poisoned myself. As they transferred me to the psych ward, the female police officer accompanying me gently whispered: "You must have an angel watching over you." No shit.

It took them three days to determine that I wasn't crazy. All they gave me was Tylenol and anti-biotics. I first looked like Frankenstein's monster with the staples keeping my neck together, but the lines are becoming less and less obvious with every passing day. The shrinks were concerned with how "cold and rational" my suicide attempt was, they said it took a "terrible willpower". First time I heard of someone officially being held in a mental hospital for being sane.

One of the more interesting patients here believes himself to be locked into an epic David versus Goliath struggle with every single public labor union on Earth. He also believes that Walt Disney's frozen brain speaks to him telepathically through his quantum computer, a quantum computer he built at home using a solar-powered crystal cube of Atlantean origin, given to him by a Native American member of the Anti-Illuminati Movement. They let him out early without his medication, a whole week before I even got to breath some fresh air. He is now suing the hospital for violating his privacy when they wouldn't let him masturbate naked in his room in front of the window. I'm quite serious.

But I'm free now after merely three weeks of waiting, my trust in the Universe is renewed, and the pain (both physical and emotional) is almost gone. I followed in the footsteps of Alexander, taking a sword to the inner Gordian Knot, which is quite exacting since both Alexander and I believed ourselves to be the Divine Achilles reincarnate. But seriously, now that I'm out of my own personal Arkham, you wanna know how I got these scars?