Insider info and illuminati analysis...


...from the man they just can't recruit.

Showing posts with label Assassins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Assassins. Show all posts

Monday, 8 January 2018

New Ebook, introduction and first chapter.




When I was young I was always determined to figure out what life in Earth was all about. It seemed to me as child, that I was in a world which seemed to be full of so many horrors and a perpetual series of problems to be solved. I always got the impression that solving the world’s problems wasn’t really what those who were in control of the world, seemed to spend much time doing. In fact they seemed to spend most of the time creating new ones and I wondered why.

I remember being at school as a kid, and reading some book which showed two different pictures of the future. One was a scene of trees and nature and people living happily in the environment in harmony with the world around them. The other picture was the same scene except that it was in a parallel world where humanity had totally befouled the environment, had cut down all the trees and was killing nature with all sorts of industrial pollutants which drifted from diabolical looking smoking factory chimneys. I remember that at the time what an obvious choice it was that we should collectively choose the first image, and I felt certain that since this picture was in a book at school and people were clearly aware of the problem, that surely the people in power would assure that the second image never happened.

Yet now I live in a world where Fukushima happened. Where the rainforests of Brazil are still being stripped to feed cows for Mcdonalds, and again I wonder why. Why is it if countries of the world can come together and agree to ban smoking in bars and restaurants and on buses for instance, then why can’t the world come together to act to save itself? Why are these problems that were clearly identified thirty or more years ago when I was still a child, now running out of control. Is no one really interested in solving any of our fundamental problems as a race living on a fragile planet? Why am I now living in the nightmare future picture from a school book from over thirty years ago?

And I wondered why. I wondered what, if not caring for the planet and maintaining life on Earth, then what were the people who controlled the world really doing and really prioritizing?

It took me some thirty years to find the answer to this question, and I was determined to discover exactly what was going on here on Earth, who was doing it and why they were doing it.

It became something of a puzzle. A series of questions which lead to more questions, and a series of encounters with some very strange people around the world, which led me to even to question who or what I myself was, until I very nearly lost sight of solving the puzzle and almost became caught in one of the traps which the world sets for people like me, people who ask too many questions and are not pleased with the answers. People who think for themselves.
 

Chapter 1

Something which doesn’t seem to get much attention in discussions of how the world is secretly controlled is the reality of psychic powers and the Freemasons. This is something which doesn’t seem to get much coverage in discussions about the Illuminati and the various cults that feed into it.

It’s important to point out that being Illuminati is a state of mind, a particular perspective and mode of existence which runs parallel to that which most of us here on Earth experience. What the Illuminati really is, is a shared secret amongst a group of people. Illuminati has now become the recognisible label for defining the agents of a shared common secret. The question is, what is this secret?

The Illuminati have always been present on Earth in all spheres of society. Wherever human beings are, there is Illuminati. In the crudest of terms I would say that the Illuminati are simply a collection of the world’s craziest people. What’s more the Illuminati have developed special techniques in order to take a normal person and make them as crazy as they are. In no way here am I intending any prejudice or discrimination against people with mental illness, except that I am pointing out that mental illness is not a normal healthy state for neither a human being, nor society or the world as a whole.

Mental illness has been in existence for as long as the human race has walked the earth and is to some extent an arguable definition and clearly there are degrees or shades of mental illness. My definition of mental illness would be the point at which the human mind is prepared to follow cues and suggestions which are likely to cause some kind of harm to themselves or others. By this definition we can easily include various bellicose world leaders who instigate wars and are responsible for the deaths of thousands of even millions of people, for no reason other than that they are told to do it.

It should be obvious to most people that people like George W Bush, Tony Blair and Barrack Obama, and all the world leaders, do not act on their own volition, but merely follow the instructions which they are given by the shadowy elites which secretly call the shots. This is why there is always such a marked difference between the young fresh faced idealistic and healthy looking newly elected prime-minister or president, and the grey-haired, care-worn and emaciated broken looking figure we see after two terms of office. What we see is clearly a man who has been forced to act outside of his personal volition. Rapid aging of the type seen only in major world leaders, and more specifically, in world leaders conducting unpopular and unethical wars and invasions, is evidence of personal stress and this stress can only be caused when there is a personal conflict between one’s personal feelings and the instructions given to the leader by the secret hidden controllers.

Barrack Obama’s grey hair for me proves that he is not a Reptilian overlord from Draco B. It proves that he is a human and what’s more, that he probably has a conscience which he may have wrestled, like Jacob, every single day of his presidency. His grey hairs probably developed when he realized that the United States were using ISIS terrorists to reshape the Middle-East and depose of powerful leaders in the Muslim world considered a threat to American hegemony. I only wonder whether the mysterious fibre of President Donald Trump’s hair will undergo any change commensurate with the stresses and personal conflicts of integrity which will doubtless hound him during his time in office and feel that for the sake of political continuity Trump ought to avail himself of the correctly shaded head of hair, assuming that Donald Trump’s hair is something which perhaps is not entirely indigenous to his own head.

However for all the criticism against Donald Trump as a person, and for all the suspicions about his hair, he is the first man in my political lifetime that has actually appeared to be a real person and not some carefully created political animal, bred and groomed to be a yes-man for whichever group or financial interests backed her for the position. For that matter, ‘populism’, as long as it is real populism, and not, in the instance of the rise of the Nazis and Bolsheviks, a project to destroy Christian civilization for the Zionist banks of Wall Street, is really a word for true democracy, and not voting on the strength of the political, or even literal colour of the presidential candidate.

I would suggest that not only do these people who find themselves in the seat of some nominal or at least, symbolic power in the world’s affairs undergo physical changes such as a change in hair-colour but also mental and psychological changes. This is not a particularly unusual suggestion since after a few years in any particular role or job, we all observe changes in ourselves in response to the circumstances of the demands of the job and the various challenges we experience.

The aim of the Illuminati is to create a psycho-chemical change in consciousness. The knowledge of this process has always resided within a secret repository of human knowledge in the possession of the priests and chosen adepts of the ancient mysteries. This information was used sparingly and then only ever employed with the availability of an antidote or ritual secret which could reverse the condition. And so in the Bachic rites and the rites of Pan, we hear of the extraordinary states of temporary madness and frenzy which were felt to be a sign of the welcome possession of the God, yet which was always assumed to be only a temporary state. Many of the mystical rites of ancient Greece involved the use of psychedelic drugs and the rites of Bachus in particular used wine, presumably in great excess, along with other cues and auto-suggestions.

Just to clarify what I mean by the term ‘auto-suggestion’ and this more than any drug, or external influence, has the power to affect the personal psychological transformation which is the purpose of the ritual. Without the auto-suggestion then the ritual would have no effect and the initiation would serve no purpose. This is why it was said that the mystae of the ancient mysteries of Eleusis were put to death if upon questioning after the unfolding of the mystery, they answered that they did not believe what they had seen to have been ‘real’, since, without the power of belief and auto-suggestion, there could be no hope of any of the desired transformative experience which has always been the key goal of any religious or spiritual ritual or ceremony.

Even religious rites and rituals, which are more properly termed ‘liturgies’ exist in our present age though are fast declining in the present secular age, such as the Christening of a child, where the belief that the ritual of a priest bathing the infants head with water while reading a blessing, will prepare that child’s soul for acceptance into Christ’s kingdom. The baptism liturgy only has any meaning or significance if the parents believe in it, and the child later believes that their Baptism has made them a Christian. Of course in many instances Baptism is only a matter of form and social appearances, and the auto-suggestion or belief in the process itself is lacking and a mere formality of convention, but once the belief in the power of the ritual fades from the cultural identity this is then swiftly followed by the disappearance of the desire to even maintain the appearance of the belief in the process, at which point the ritual fades into obsolescence.

It gives me no pleasure to point this out, that the Christian façade of our country has been steadily and deliberately chiseled away by the agents of the secret societies, but never was much more than a façade, for any Europe which can see two world wars and the deaths of hundreds of millions within the space of fifty years was never Christian in any real sense, only as a label of self deception. Unfortunately with the loss of the façade and even the ability of self deception we have now found ourselves as a culture without the power of auto-suggestion to tell ourselves that we are Christians living in a Christian country, and immediately the illusion is shattered and we find ourselves with no illusions and now the manifest threat of new illusions, ethical and cultural codes being instantly manufactured to fill the vacuum.

The ‘new’ ethical and moral codes are those of old mystery Babylon, the Canaanites, Satanists, which is all presently being delivered to our door by Freemasonry which is effectively, all of these currents all rolled into one rather well disguised philanthropy club.

All of this is in-line with the ancient Kabballah and mystery religions of the ancient world which always sought to redefine God so that his existence was a convenience to human, or at least, that the Gods were either utterly unknowable and detached from human experience, therefore not inclined to take any interest in man’s spiritual development and keep track of his sins. This is a view which has been proposed by many philosophers and seems to me only to be a ruse to allow people to give themselves a potentially false impression of the universe they live in and allow humanity, politicians, the rich elite, a free hand to commit whatever atrocities and excess they desire.

The Greeks and Roman approach was to depict Gods which were in no fit state to judge humanity since their behavior was no better. And in the cases where individuals were punished by the Gods then their wrath was usually kindled as a result of failing to give proper homage to the Gods, or indeed, wantonly cruel acts which outrage human decency and the laws of Ancient convention. There wasn’t really much of a middle ground or any sense that humans were spiritual beings struggling with animal nature since the Gods themselves also seemed to have an animal carnal nature whose boundless appetite and sheer power, and this seemed to diminish mere human sins to something resembling an ant-farm.

The religious sculptures of the Egyptians were grossly indecent; their religious festivals were kept in an indecent way; phallic orgies were a part of them, and phallic orgies of a gross kind. The Egyptians tolerated incest, and could defend it by the example of the gods.

Historically the ancient pagan cults were by nature, Illuminati, and the term which the Greeks used for this particular change in consciousness was ‘mustikos, this word is connected to ‘mystery’ and ‘mystic’.

Joseph Balsamo became later known as Cagliostro, was a personal friend of the Grand Master of the Knights of Malta. He developed the rite of Misraim which was comprised 90 degrees and incorporated alchemical, Egyptian and occult elements, firmly taking Freemasonry away from the operative guild of stone masons and architects and thoroughly into the realm of ancient mystery religion. Information from the US Memphis Misraim website specifically and tantalizingly states that the source of the Rite of Memphis Misraim was among others, such groups as the Sabbeans of Harran and the Ismaelis.

Harran became a repository of the occult knowledge of the ancient world which had been since the advent of Christianity and has been described as the last pagan enclave in the Christian world. Much of the knowledge which was lost from places like Alexandria was preserved at Harran. Some of these selected works were translated into Arabic and also eventually found their way into Europe, apparently ushering in the age of Enlightenment. Hermes Trismestigusts was the prophet of the Sabbeans of Harran and their holy book was the Corpus Hermeticum.

The Corpus Hermeticum is a book which seems to recall the Edenic challenge and the fall of man, but recasts this as the road to enlightenment or Gnosis.
 

“….for Gnosis of the power of God, that they might know the fates that follow good and evil and learn the cunning work of all good arts.” This evokes the forbidden fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

“..This mind in men is God, and for this cause some of mankind are Gods, and their humanity is nigh unto divinity.”
Such a system of philosophy is likely to be popular amongst an elite, and since there appears to be no mention of any moral or ethical framework behind this, as one usually finds in religious systems which evoke Gods, then one is left with a system which allows men to award themselves Godhood, using only their own standards as a judge. Furthermore the Corupus Hermeticum is very keen to delineate humanity into elite God-men and those of the ‘irrational mind’ ‘their soul is life devoid of mind.’ 

 There is also the suggestion that ‘fate’ over-rides the idea of freewill, and this is especially of concern in the matter of ethics and morality:
“…For that if it be absolutely fated for a man to fornicate, or commit sacrilege, or do some other evil deed, why is he punished, - when he hath done the deed from fate’s necessity?”

In addition to the Harranites which influenced European enlightenment philosophy, were the Assassins, the murderous mind control group from 11th century Assyria. They were said to have worked with the Knights Templar and it has always been a strong supposition that the Assassins informed and influenced the development of the Templars and by extension, Freemasonry. Here we connect the dots between Count Cagliostro and the Grand Master of the Knights of Malta, a chivalric order which was also present during the time of the first crusade. Here then we can opine that the knowledge of the rites of the Ismaelis was transmitted to Cagliostro from the Grand Master of the Knights of Malta. The same website even clarifies things for us by saying that Masonry has no trace of such practices prior to the 18th Century.
The Assassins are the first group which has been recorded, by Marco Polo among others, to have perfected Mind Control. What is interesting however is how the Assassins, an in particular their leader, Hassan Ibn Sabbah, the Old Man of the Mountain came upon this knowledge.

Hassan Ibn Sabbah was a Nizari Ismaeli, a member of the Shia sect of Islam. In particular the Ismaelis differ from other Shia groups as focusing on a more esoteric meaning of Islam. In his book History of the Secret Societies, Arkin Darual identifies Hassan Ibn Sabbah as the founder of the Illuminati in 1092. Ismaelis believe in the possibility of union with God, but that depends which God they’re talking about and whether the ‘God’ they’re talking to or in union with, is even God at all.

Hassan Ibn Sabbah was clearly a pivotal personage of history, without whom the mind control techniques employed by the groups as diverse as the North Koreans, Joseph Mengele, and ISIS would probably not have been discovered, but the man cannot have existed in isolation. The techniques he used are unlikely to have originated with him alone, it is just too improbable for any one man to create a whole satanic cult under his own steam. For a start such people as Sabbah, Hitler and Weishaupt must have a particular set of inclinations of ideologies which set them off on their course. The question is where did Sabbah obtain his ideologies and rational behind using murder and mind control as a tool of power.

The Ismaelis established the Fatimid Caliphate in 973 in Cairo. The founder was known as The Mahdi, Ubeidullah. He claimed descent from Fatimah the daughter of Mohamed, thus connecting him to the bloodline of Mohammed, which seems to be a requisite to any Arab royal past or present and even certain secular leaders have claimed descent from Mohammed. However Ubeidullah was accused of Jewish descent by the Abbasids and his father was connected to the Brethren of Sincerity while his wife was a Jew.

The Fatimid Ishmaelis were based in the House of Wisdom (Dar al Hikmat) at Al Azhar university. It is said that the indoctrination into the Ishmaeli system was conducted through nine degree with the final degree leading to a final denial of Islam and an initiation into Gnostic Sabaenism. The process of denial is slowly built up by questioning all sources of supposed authority starting with his previous tutors, the twelve Imams of Shia, until he is finally taught he can abandon the words of the prophet Mahommed himself, and that as an enlightened initiate his is made aware that all such religious instructions are only allegorical and for one who understands the truth there are no constraints of any kind.


The example of the 6th Fatimid Caliph, Al Hakim, is highly illustrative of the secret doctrine of the Ishmaelis being revealed to the public. Al Hakim was a tyrant and monster of such abandon, that he has given an excellent picture of what kind of personality might lay behind the Ishmaeli institution, just as with the image of the Roman emperor we can catch a glimpse of the pagan mystery which drove Rome and created a bloody system based on genocide, sacrifice, slavery and gave rise to some of the most deranged tyrants history has ever seen. So too with Nazi Germany, in the person of Hitler we see an embodiment of the disturbed chaotic forces which dwell within the Pagan heart of the Nazi organization. It is no different with the Roman church and the excesses and bloody instruments of the church merely betray yet more evidence of a pagan heart to the institution demanding blood sacrifice and the same schizophrenic Cain mentality which can tolerate no rival but must strike them down just as Cain struck down his brother. 


Al Hakim as the son of the fifth Caliph of Egypt Al Aziz Billah, he rose to power at age eleven. Hakim reigned for 25 years, from the start of the new Millennium and such a diabolic figure quite fittingly finds himself presiding over a new millennium, bringing forth the ancient mysteries into the 11th century. Many Shia Ismaelis, in particular the Nazari (which were led by Hassan Ibn Sabbah) and ad Adrazi, the founder of the Druze, commonly called the Satan worshippers, revere Hakim as the embodiment of God on Earth.

If this man was an embodiment of God on Earth then, as alluded to earlier where the Ismaelis seek union and direct contact with God, then this God may very well be Satan itself. Hakim was a despotic psychopathic mass-murderer who would put the Caligula to shame. Like Caligula he mercifully died young: murdered. It was Al Hakim who founded the House of Wisdom in Cairo in 1005 where esoteric Ismaeli studies ‘Majilis al-hikma’ were carried out. In fact the Devil worshipping Druze still call their assembly halls ‘Majilis al-hikma’ after the tradition of al-Hakim.


Abu Ali Mansur, known as ‘Al Hakim’ ‘The ruler’ or his full title, ‘Al Hakim bi-Amr Allah’ or ‘The ruler by God’s command’, was a kind of proto Taliban or ISIS. It is likely that his example is probably the one which the Wahhabists of Saudi Arabia are following. Al Hakim banned all alcohol for Muslims and non Muslims alike, despite of course, Egypt having a very large Christian population. He also forbade women from leaving the house with their faces uncovered. And like Hitler, he forced Jews to wear identifying tokens to set them apart from others. As time wore on he became notably hostile to both Jews and Christians and he demolished the church of the Holy Sepulchre which housed the tomb of Jesus, in 1009 which had stood in Jerusalem since 355. The present church dates from 1048 when it was reconstructed.

This is an attitude which similarly is mirrored in the outrages against history art and culture which have been perpetrated by the Taliban, Isis and even Saudi Arabia with its dynamiting of ancient Islamic tombs, including, incredibly, the tomb of Fatima herself. I am pretty sure Mohammed would be turning in his grave at these acts of savage destruction and it’s probably only a matter of time before the Wahhabists blow it up and then he’ll have nowhere to turn. 

Furthermore Al Hakim was a child murderer, since one of his generals found him hacking at the body of a child who had taken part in a revolt against him. This general rapidly went home and made his last will and testament before being executed on Al Hakim’s command. He, like the Roman Emperors, tried to have himself revered as a God on Earth. One time while travelling with his retinue he took out a butcher’s knife and murdered one of his followers for no reason. In 1005 Al-Hakim publicly posted curses on the first three Caliphs of Islam and Aisha, wife of Mohammed. Can such a figure by any stretch of the imagination represent by any means someone who represents Islam, a religion said to worship the one true God? Yet Al Hakim is not only revered as an embodiment of God on Earth by the Druzes and also a highly regarded holy man by the Nizaris, the second largest branch of Shia Islam on Earth.

Such a man clearly had more of the devil about him and perhaps that such a man could rise to the head of the Islamic faith in Fatimid Egypt might lead us to similar conclusions we may have about the true nature of the Catholic Church. It’s really a case of the contents not being the same as the label on the tin.


Al-Hakim has a great many defenders in the world of Islamic studies, and one wonders why they go to such pains to whitewash the history of such an evident tyrant, inventing conspiracies and accusing Al-Hakim’s critics of defamation. One wonder perhaps if those writers such as Heinz Halm a supposed expert on the Ismaelis, is not perhaps a little too close to his studies, and perhaps himself is a member of a secret Illuminati order distantly connected to this group and dedicated to cleaning and polishing this particular turd of history. Willi Frischauer, interestingly, is a well known writer and historian of the Nazi movement and in particular, the mastermind of the Nazi party, Herman Goering.

In the final period of his reign Al-Hakim even became hostile to what was ostensibly supposed to be people of his own religion, the Shiites. At this point a religion started to be formed, the Druze, which was based on the activity of Hakim. So we can observe the rites and beliefs of the Druze to find the inner reality of what was really involved in Ismaelism. Since Ismaelism was a secret religious school while Druze is an open externalization. When we do this we find Sabaeanism and dualism. We also find the suspicion that Al-Hakim was literally insane, and he has been called the Mad Caliph. In this madness we may suspect the genetic porphyria disease which has spread through history creating mad emperors, monarchs and rulers.

In fact it is the common belief among the majority of the world’s Muslims that Shia Islam is a Jewish conspiracy. Their reasoning is that Abdullah Ibn Sabbah, who started the Shia movement, was himself a Jewish convert to Islam. He was one of the conspirators behind the assassination of the third rightly guided Caliph Uthman. However they do not quite manage to extend that same line of valid reasoning to their own particular Sunni sect, and they either forget or do not know, that Mahommed saw himself as a Jewish Messiah before being the creator of Islam.

Black Magic Socialism.

Alphonse Louis Constant, more popularly known as Eliphas Levi is is arguably the most famous continental occultist in history. He is most famous for designing an image of Baphomet which is well known to all students and critics of the occult.
 

As one of the major figureheads of the occult revival of the 19th century, Levi somewhat unexpectedly began life training to be a priest at the Seminary of Saint Sulpice in Paris. The Church of Saint Sulpice is the second largest church in Paris after Notre Dame, and was known as ‘The New Temple of Solomon’. It is built in a resoundingly classical style, and where it not for the two towers it would be unrecognisible as a church and could be mistaken for a particularly ornate government building or municipal theatre. The style of the church has been described as a ‘Jesuit’ style.

The church of Saint Sulpice is said to be the headquarters of the society of Angels and is the headquarters of the Company of Saint Supplice, a Catholic secret society based on the Jesuits, The Society of the Blessed Sacrement, and according to the spurious fiction of Dan Brown’s book, this organisaiton was a cover for the Priory of Sion. The Society of the Blessed sacrament, like so many secret societies and Catholic orders, hides itself beneath the veneer of charity, but very little is known of the this organization, such is the level of secrecy which has successfully been maintained for four hundred years, ‘protect the secret’.

Abbe Louis Fouquet and his brother Nicholas Fouquet were wealthy patrons of Nicholas Poussin.

“He (Poussin) and I discussed certain things, which I shall able to explain to fully quite easily – things which will give you, through Monsieur Poussin, (if you don’t disbelieve them) advantages which even Kings would have great trouble to extract from him, and according to him , perhaps no one in the world will ever hear in the centuries to come; and what’s more, this without much expense may even draw a profit, and these things being so hard to discover, that nothing now on Earth can have better fortune or be their equal” 17th April 1656.

It seems that Louis 14th had some complaint against Nicholas Fouquet and upon the death of his mentor Mazrin in 1661, when Nicholas expected to take his place as head of the government, instead the 22 year old King had Fouquet arrested and underwent a length trial which seemed to break all the laws if the French legal code. It was clear that the King had some personal particular reason for wishing to depose one who had previously been so essential to the management of the French state. It is said that it was Fouquets dubious management of the French finances along with the expenditure of incredible sums towards his own personal aggransidement, with chateaus and displays of the wealth which may have angered the King, but there are some strange details to this story which indicate that something else may have been involved.

The Jewish community at Narbonne thrived after the time of Louis the Pious and the separation of France and Germany into two separate countries which had been joined under Charlemagne as part of the Holy Roman Empire.So called Cathar dualism is little more than the awareness that the Old Testament God was not the same as the New Testament God of Jesus’ ministry. In my opinion it is not necessary to call the Old Testament God ‘evil’ in any sense, since in all probability this God was merely a spirit being which had been adopted by the Israelites as their racial and religious protector, and he did just that.

It is likely that the Cathars came to France some time in the 10th century after migrating from Armenia where they were known as the Paulicians, after a series of persecutions and genocides conducted against them from the 7th to the 9th century when Empress Theodora had 100,000 thousand Paulicians put to death,of the Eastern Empire. In the Orthodox church Empress Theodora is venerated as a saint for allow the restoration of venerating icons after the period of Iconoclasm.


A great deal of absolute rubbish is spoken about the Cathars. One ghastly mistake which many crystal gazing internet fools engage in is equating them with the ‘mystical adepts’ the Sufis and the Jewish Kabbalists. This is an appalling defamation and is the kind of ignorant prattle which only those who know nothing whatsoever about the Sufis, Qabalists or Cathars would engage in. There are some truly embarrassing web presences which use the name of the Cathars to vaunt their own foolish new-age ego babble. One such web fool has the Cathars meeting underground to commune with something he calls the ‘Almighty Creative Essence’ is that like a fragrant oil or something. Firstly since the Cathars celebrated light why would they hold be creeping about underground looking for mystical essences? And in what way would the Cathar devote himself to suffering mankind? Was he a Catholic nun? Such uninformed blabber makes one genuinely wonder what animates some people. There seems to be a widespread belief that the caves at Ornolac served as a ritualistic place of Cathar initiation but there is no evidence of any kind for such a claim apart from three half baked websites incestuously sharing the same misleading information. It is possible that the Cathars hid in these caves while they were being persecuted but there is no reason or evidence to imagine that they conducted rituals of any kind here.

A lot of this nonsense comes from Rudolf Steiner and a deceased Glastonbury wizard Stanley Messenger, an aficionado of crop circles, King Arthur and Lucifer, and singularly failing to draw any correct conclusions about any of those subjects. One particularly noxiously silly website Anaiya Sophia decided that whatever fanciful nonsense they have made up about the Cathars should be the truth. Without doubt they probably ‘chanelled’ this information which is another way New-Age silly billies justify the process known as ‘sheer invention’. Another one is Judith Man who is a woman with more wishful thinking than sense and puts the Cathars on the same level as the demonic Sufis and the creepy Kabbalists. Even worse she then tries to put Catharism within the same context as the atheistic Pythagoreans. And beyond that, plumbing the depths of wrongness, she tries to depict Montsegur as being the Grail Castle, despite the Grail castle being safely located nearly a thousand miles away somewhere in Wales. She claims that German grail romance writer of Parsifal Wolfram von Eisenback locates the Grail castle in the Pyrenees when he does no such thing. Parsifal is set in Britain, because King Arthur was British. Not a French Cathar.

The transliteration of Parsifal’s Grail castle known as Munsalvaesche, translated into French as Mont Salvat, to be identified by writers such as to the Cathar strong hold of Mont Segur is a fine example of what writer in his down to Earth and thoroughly reasonable book The Holy Grail: History of a Legend Richard Barber identifies as ‘dubious etymology’. He appears to be equally tired with the attempts to weave Catharism into a greater religious mystical framework, the work of Otto Rahn has been particularly unhelpful in this regard which, instead of anaylsing the vacuum left about the Cathars by the church’s systematic destruction of all trace of information the Cathars, and instead of perhaps more wisely attributing to them at least a more authentic Christian tradition to them than the Catholuc church instead he tried to foist Hinduism upon the poor dead Cathars who are sadly not present to deny such imputations. It was Maurice Magre who for reasons best left to himself, decided that the holy Grail was a Cathar legend, when it was in fact a Templar one. I can only surmise some kind of dark satire at work, connecting the myths of the Crusading armies which destroyed and burned the Cathars alive, to the Cathars themselves.

Manicheasm believes that light is imprisoned in the world of matter and that upon the dissolution of the human body the light contained within its material prison can return to its source, if it has reached self reaslisation or enlightenment, or be reincarnated. It is ironic that Manicheism became the principal rival to Christianity since Manicheism had much more of Jesus’ message within it than the Christian church which seemed more obsessed with Earth dogma and endless internecine squabbles. While the Christian Church was firmly planted on the chessboard of planet Earth, on the one hand murdering its opponents in one turn and feeding the poor on the next turn, so attempting to balance its karmic debts and play the Tree of Life game, the Manicheists were firmly rooted to their white square and sought transcendence from the chessboard by merging into the light of the white square. Mani himself declared that he was ‘an apostle of Jesus Christ’

The pagan emperor Diocletian, with the same fervor as his ‘Christian’ counterpart Pope Innocent III decreed against the Manicheist: “We order that their organizers and leaders be subject to the final penalties and condemned to the fire with their abominable scriptures.”


It is not certain what element of their scriptures Dioceltian considered abominable, it is unlikely there was anything in their possession which could rival in degree of abomination, the actual act of ordering people to be burned alive because of their personal religious beliefs. And yet we find this same Roman mindset survived in all its simple-minded brutality long into the late middle ages in the form of the Roman Catholic Church. Perhaps there is a reason after all that the Catholic church styles itself as ‘Roman’ and celebrates the same feasts as the pagans of the old Roman Empire such as the feast of Mithras, the Saturnalia and Easter. Is the Roman Catholic Church nothing after-all but a continuation of the Roman Empire, with its paganism thoroughly intact beneath the mirage of a Christian edifice. The church after all has shown itself to be Christian only in name and not, not even in the smallest observable morsel, to be Christian in deed. In 354 Hilary of Poitiers noted that Manicheism was a significant force in Southern Gaul, precisely the area delineated as Languedoc and the region which would be later known as Cathar lands.

Theodosius I was the last emperor to directly reign over both the Eastern and Western halves of the Empire and was the first emperor to enforce the Nicean creed and made Nicean Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire, other Christians who did not adhere to the specific Catholic Nicean creed he termed ‘foolish madmen’. One wonders then about the mental landscape of such people, might one not be allowed to term something of their character ‘pathological’, for to be largely in agreement with other Christians but perhaps to disagree on maybe one or two small legalistic points one is consigned the appellation ‘madmen’ and hunted down and persecuted with inhuman ferocity. Theodosius then went on to elaborate on the confusing and wholly unnecessary creed of the trinity, which had become central to Nicean Christianity, despite it having its actual conceptual origins in the Jewish Zohar.

This perhaps then, was the final ascendency of Catholic Christianity. There is perhaps a certain irony that upon making Nicean Christianity the official religion of the Empire and ordering the banning of the ancient pagan rituals which had, it was believed, sustained the Empire for so long, that the Empire effectively began its eventually fall by breaking up into two halves, until finally the Western Empire withered and died less than 50 years later.
Gnostic dualists are keen to point out the opposites in everything in creation, good and bad, up and down, black and white, and this mythos is central to the Freemasonic religion which borrows these ideas extensively from the ancient world and the Kabballah. However the God of Jesus is more than just a white square on a Masonic chequerboard. The ministry of Jesus was all about transcending the chess board in the first place. There is no idea of duality in Jesus’ ministry, only of escape from the chess board in the first place.

The Kabbalistic tree of life has two pillars, the left hand path or ‘female’ pillar of Severity, and the right hand ‘masculine’ path of Mercy. The central pillar is the path of equilibrium, and it is apparently in balancing these two forces, in creating a synthesis of dualism, that the initiate rises to higher awareness. So this is why Freemasons feel they can sexually molest children with impunity, because at the same time, they raise money for children’s homes. They feel that in mediating their karma they are travelling happily up the tree of knowledge. Doing a bit of good here, a bit of evil there, but always on the up and up. Moving on the chessboard, from a black square to a white square and so on.

Wednesday, 9 March 2011

Assassins!



         Khalil opened his eyes. He was laying flat on his back under the shade of a tamarind tree. He could remember nothing, his mind felt as if a river had washed through it, his head was empty and unblocked and he felt a great pureness. For many minutes that gathered into hours, Khalil lay on his back in absolute bliss, nothing troubled him, and no words hassled him; he was at peace.

       He sat-up and stared with wonder, it was then that a thought formed within him, the first he’d had in over four hours, “Where am I?” He tried to stand but found it difficult, his body felt different, he felt an ethereal lightness and the usual muscular action which controlled his body seemed now not to prove effective, he found now that he could move almost effortlessly, he felt like he was gliding down the golden hill side. He looked about him, now he his mind was slowly filling with words again.

        “Where am I? It’s beautiful here.” The cool breeze was laced with the combined perfume of hundreds of different fruits and flowers. Trees of all kinds abounded, he saw flowers uncountable in their variety and whose colours were mesmerising. “What is this place?” He walked on under a cloud of enchantment until his senses were caressed with an unmistakable sweet fragrance, “Honeysuckle,” he thought. He walked, trying to discover the shrub, looking out for its distinctive little white blossoms. To no avail. 

        He saw many other types of tree and shrubs, oranges and lemons, olives, fig trees but he could not discover where the delicious odour was coming from. He felt tired and decided to take a seat by a river and so moving trough a lawn of wild flowers he noticed the fragrance grew ever stronger, ‘Could it be these small flowers?” He bent down to smell them, their richness intoxicated him but yet the fragrance he was seeking eluded him. “Never mind, I’ll sit down by this flowing river”. As he did so, he gazed into the thick waters which flowed slowly and peacefully, he put a hand into the waters to refresh himself, and jumped back with a cry of surprise and disbelief. His hand was covered with a thick clinging substance, “In the name of Allah it is honey, how can this be?”  He cautiously sniffed his hand then tasted it, it was indeed honey. His mind reeled, he stumbled back and his foot sank into a rivulet of water. Khalil looked down at his foot to find it ankle deep in a white liquid ‘milk!’ he shouted “This cannot be! What strange land this is I must discover!” He took his foot out of the rivulet of milk and ran frantically across the plain until he was stopped in his tracks by a sound.

   “Hey you over there,” he turned and saw a figure standing near an orange tree with an orange in his hand. Khalil didn’t move: fear and incomprehension rooted him to the spot.

    “Don’t be afraid, rejoice!” the figure ran towards him, Khalil backed away, “have no fear for this is paradise.” said the figure.

   “My name’s Arslan, in the name of Mohammed rejoice for we have our reward!” Arslan spoke fervently with a great smile of beatitude on his face.

     “Is this really paradise?” Asked Khalil.

  “But of course, haven’t you seen the golden palaces? The milk and honey flowing abundantly?”
          
    “Then I am saved,” then Khalil thought for a moment, “but I don’t remember dying.”
     
     “I do,” Said Arslan, “I was poisoned by a rogue who offered tainted hospitality.”

 Khalil thought for a moment puzzled, but his thoughts were disturbed by the sound of melodious singing voices. 

    “What’s that?” he asked.
          
    “Angels” Arslan answered,  “come and see.”

  So the two men walked off following the sound of singing that seemed to drift down from the surrounding mountains. “But I can’t see them,” Khalil complained.
            
   “Nor can I,” Arslan answered, “but I can hear them, I suppose they are hiding their true nature but all will become clear in time.”

 The melodious sound echoed between the mountains and produced an extraordinary sensation in the two listeners, they felt dizzying enrapture by the singing. Then from nowhere beautiful strains of music flowed accompanying the music.

   “Allah Akbar!”

  Both men were so moved that they could not refrain from dancing, and so they moved in slow circles, eyes closed with arms outstretched:
          
  “As we turn the sun turns; as the sun turns the world turns and with it all life turns as we turn.” Arslan sang.

As the music showed no signs of letting up they danced for hours, until the singing seemed to very gradually become quieter and quieter, it seemed the voices were moving away and the players too.

  “Let's follow, see if we can find the angels,” Arslan suggested.

 Khalil agreed and so they walked bare-footed in the grass and wild flowers. Ahead he saw something.

  “What’s that shimmering on the plain beyond? It looks like the sun’s fire.”

  They walked on drawing ever closer to the shimmering plain that seemed to be ablaze with light.

  "What new enchantment can this be? it will consume us." Khalil exclaimed anxiously. “It seems to be…no it can’t be... look, it’s gold, pure gold!”

 They rushed headlong onto the golden field rolling in flakes of pure gold until their beards and hair were sewn with gold.

 “God be praised," Arslan exclaimed "but come let us follow the music more for they have shown us this marvel, perhaps there are yet more thing to see in heaven.”

 They walked on following the tune, each man was by now almost a shimmering statue of gold, they sparkled and shone and rejoiced for the riches of paradise. They moved reluctantly away from the field of gold and started to climb a steep hill, they climbed accompanied by the heavenly music.

  “You know,” Arslan said “all my life has been a struggle, I have seen rich men live indecent immoral lives while the poor people I knew always lived by God’s law and they suffered unjustly. I could never understand why men who denied God’s law could prosper while the poor and humble people lived decent lives and were rewarded by  more poverty and were made to suffer even more. Now I understand. I do not know my parents, I had been near to death many times before, my life was a daily struggle against death and starvation.”

 “You had no parents? that is strange, nor did I, I am an orphan. My life too had been hard,” 

They had nearly reached the summit of the hill, the climb had been hard but the top was in view and the music too seemed to be drawing ever closer becoming louder and sweeter yet.

“How fortunate that two such as us should finally receive our just reward.” Khalil said. They were near the top now; just a few more footfalls and they would be standing at the summit.

 “But one thing I don’t….” Khalil began but suddenly his words fell from him as he gasped in awe at a new miracle before him. They were on top of a hill, five hundred feet below them they saw the distant golden field sparkling and further they saw the streams of milk and honey. But right now, in front of them they saw a great sparkling palace decorated with porcelain gold and jewels.

            “A poor man never was so rich!”

            “Dara al salaam!” Arslan exclaimed.

 Before them stood a palace of glittering golden cupolas whose glow rivaled the sun itself. The walls were painstakingly decorated with the finest porcelain with designs painted upon it which mirrored and embellished the surrounding paradise. With coloured inks of uncanny synthesis and brush strokes of astounding finesse and resolution; the painted tiles showed tall heavy-laden fruit trees, rising up towards the golden cupolas as trees yearn towards the sun. The trees bore fruit of all colours which, although mere paintings, seemed to contain all the promise of zest and juiciness of the genuine article. Khalil and Arslan  tore their hungry eyes away from the painted fruit and scanned across to see all manner of extraordinary animals: forms that confronted their vision astounded them:

         “What are these creatures? What dreamlike visions. Look Arslan that yellow beast as high as the trees, is it not wonderful? And there,” he pointed, “a monster which looks like a huge grey stone, look Arslan it has two tails, one at each end of its body!”  They gazed into the painting long and hard getting lost in the detail of a tree of a thousand brush strokes, in a forest of a million.

   “Arslan, see there,” he pointed to the painting of a decorated palace “it is this palace!”

  “By Allah you’re right! it’s the very same palace, and look there, there are two figures, I can’t believe it, it is me and you! There we are standing just as we are here, looking at the walls of the palace!"

As they gazed in astonishment, a sound rose from the darkened recess of the palace: the sound of gentle women’s laughter and dainty conversation.

  “Who is within? Perhaps this is no place for us,” Khalil's voice betrayed a sudden unease, “we must leave, let us go down to the field of gold once more then we can feast on the ripe fruit that lie by the honey river.”

 “But this is paradise! no ways are barred in paradise!”

 “But there are lords too in paradise, this is their rest not ours, let us be gone.”

 “Nonsense, we are dead what have we to fear? I’m going in with or without you.”

  Arslan walked briskly towards the yawning palace entrance, “see! no one stops me, there are no guards!” Khalil pondered for a moment, then started walking towards the entrance “wait for me then!” he walked briskly after Arslan but he was soon engulfed by the obscurity within so Khalil could no longer see him. He paused by the palace entrance, again the sound of gentle laughter emanated from within, “Arslan what is there?” He called but heard no answer; only the sound of women’s voices answered him.

  “Arslan I can’t see you, where are you?”  Again he heard no answer but the women’s voices which were like the babbling of a gentle waterfall: their voices were cool and soothing, it seemed to Khalil that they were calling him inside. Their voices filled him with thoughts of love and pleasure; his mind had already embodied the voices giving them sweet faces and full bodies. His concern returned however, why did Arslan not answer? Then he reflected, perhaps he was otherwise engaged, he smiled. He strode into the darkness. As Khalil's eyes grew used to the darkness he noticed he was in a long grey stone corridor with a small opening just ahead, the voices of the women still aroused his desires and drew him onward with increasing rapidity. 

  He walked through the opening and brushing aside a coloured silk curtain he looked on in ecstasy. The room was richly furnished with silks of all colours hanging from the walls; on the floor were an extraordinary array of carpets of every design and from every part of the known world. The floor was a chorus of colours, all blended in perfect harmony with the noble geometry of the carpet’s designs. The furniture in the room was of gold and upon the furniture and lying on the floor were beautiful Haris wearing extraordinary dresses, one represented dawn with all the colours of daybreak, another was dusk, a dark eyed, silent woman was wearing an approaching storm and a green eyed Hari with fair brown hair who was a river. At once he forgot Arslan, but remembered  that Mahommed had promised to those who should obey his will, all the enjoyments of paradise, where every species of sensual gratification should be found in the society of beautiful nymphs.

Khalil was extremely desirous of sensual gratification as he looked about him at the beautiful damsels, some of who were singing and playing upon all sorts of musical instruments, others yet were dancing. He noticed two more Haris moving towards him proffering wine and viands, and tempting him with dalliance and amorous allurement. Clothed in rich dresses, they soon shed them and taking him with expert hands indulged him with caresses and such wondrous physical refinements until he fell into an exhausted slumber. 

     In his dreams he found no escape from paradise but took it with him and explored still further its wondrous excesses. He found in his dream that he could fly like a bird, in fact he was becoming a bird: golden wings budded from under his armpits and shone dazzlingly bright. He surveyed his golden kingdom from on high, ahead he saw a forest of improbably high trees, their roots and trunks lies many hundreds of feet below him but they soared up many hundreds of feet, perhaps thousands; their tops were lost in the clouds. Khalil flew up higher and higher intrigued by this mighty forest but exhausted himself long before he saw even the slightest tree top. He rested on a branch, his golden wings had disappeared, he looked down: many thousands of feet  below him was the ground, he realised the precariousness of his predicament and suddenly the tree began to shake and rumble, a noise like thunder shook the branch, Khalil slipped from the branch. Then he awoke.

     The sound of thunder echoed through the palace, absolute silence had suddenly fallen on the Haris. A mighty gong was being struck somewhere  in the palace, it was surely the most enormous gong ever cast: its sound shook the walls of the palace; strangely the sound seemed to be coming closer, the sound of thunder growing nearer like an approaching storm that intimidates the forest and overshadows the plain as it travels. 

    Then suddenly the thunder struck outside the hall and the Haris bowed their heads casting their eyes to the floor. A large concealed door swung, opening-up a large portion of the back-wall, smoke filled the room and a deep and heavy intoxicating odour filled the room. Music was heard and the sounds of angel’s voices chanting a deep song whose rhythm pulsated and seemed to move inside Khalil and carry him off on a particular musical journey where their were up and downs, twists and turns; a crescendos that drew Khalil into a frenzy of expectation and then a diminuendo which just as soon brought him giddily down so fast that he felt dizzied by the voyage. Then, deep within the thick clouds he could see a dark shape moving; coming closer, until the figure of a hooded man in long white cloak, broke through the clouds, though his face was cast in shadow by his hood, Khalil knew he was watching him and something told him he was smiling.

       “What is this?” Khalil asked, the figure gave no answer.

       “Allah?” Khalil asked nervously.

       “Indeed, it is he,” the bearded figure answered.  

       At once Khalil bowed with eyes averted.
     
    “Oh Allah, creator of the stars the angels and the Djinns; giver of the holy law and judge of all men high and low, I humbly ask your pardon for I have erred in my life through ignorance and poverty.”

   “Enough!” thundered the figure who had stopped smiling, and a flash of light burst into the room, dazzling Khalil who was now trembling with fear.

   “Your life has indeed been miserable and your acts most impure,” the figure continued, “you have one more chance. You will serve Lord Hassan for he is my prophet and will guide you well. Disobey him in anything and you will never see this place again.”

   With that the figure backed away into the clouds again. The angels chants struck up again and the acrid smoke filled the room entirely, Khalil once again fell asleep.        

   Khalil opened his eyes, to find himself surrounded by hard male faces staring at him.
            
   “See, he opens his eyes.”
           
   “Where am I?” he asked in bewilderment and confusion.

  “You have returned to us, Allah be praised, by my power I have stolen you from death’s jaws, is this not so?”       
  
 “It is true, I was dead, and I saw paradise.”

 “And was it pleasing to you?”

  “Indeed it was, rivers of milk and honey and beautiful nymphs just as the prophet described.”

   “And now we have given you life will you serve your Lord and master Hassan? We have the assurance of our Prophet that he who defends his Lord shall inherit Paradise, and if you show yourselves to be devoted to the obedience of my orders, that happy lot awaits you."

 “Lord Hassan, if it is by your power that I am returned to life then I wish by that same power to be returned to death for I am life weary and need sleep.”

  “Hold your tongue, or you shall lose it and more besides, for I am the Prophet returned to Earth and at my word your rest shall be a torment that will last a thousand years, see here what horrors await he who disobeys the Prophet’s decree.” Hassan stood aside and brought out his right arm in an ark that pointed to a table behind him.

 “Come closer!” Hassan ordered, Khalil obeyed and looked upon a table were a great feast was spread.

  “What would you eat to sate your hunger?” Hassan asked “perhaps this,” Hassan indicated a whole roast baby lamb with an outstretched palm, “or this” he waved towards a carafe full of a blood red wine. “Or this,” he pointed towards a circular plate covered by a dome like silver lid.

  “You shall lift it.” Khalil approached the plate hungrily lifting the lid he reflected that he didn’t know what Hassan was talking about and suspected him of being a mad man, he lifted the lid anticipating something delicious, his heart jumped and he felt dizzy and sickened by what he saw. On the plate there was a singular piece of meat: a human head in a pool of blood. It was the head of his new friend Arslan.

  “What is this?” he asked, sickened and confused.

 “Silence, you shall speak only when I demand it, there are lessons to learn and to learn quickly, otherwise you shall share his fate,” Hassan indicated the head.  

  “Now you shall know my power for I am the Prophet Ali returned on earth to show the way to paradise and help those in darkness to avoid falling into purgatory. Arslan!” Hassan addressed the head, “I return you to life in the name of Allah.”

   To Khalil’s astonishment the head opened its eyes.

   “Now, tell this man what you have seen,” the head answered:

  “By the grace of my lord Hassan, I shall tell what I have seen. Horrors have I seen and worse horrors have been my just reward for my crime for which I am punished for disobeying the word of my rightful divine lord, lord Hassan ibn Sabbah from the divine line of the fourth Imam Ali. I thank your grace my Lord Hassan for calling me back to life and sparing me the horrors that death has waiting for me. In death the body cannot further die and so there is no escape from the cruel punishments. My body was pierced with a thousand holes that gushed an endless torrent of black blood and ooze. My limbs were twisted and broken again and again, my eyes burnt out a thousand times, no faint hid me from these tortures as it does when we suffer as mortals, but in death there is no escape. I curse my folly when I tasted paradise by lord Hassan’s bounty, but then I spurned him and sought out death by my own hand and was awakened not gently by the sweet breath of fragrant nymphs but by the hot breath of a dog’s ravenous muzzle biting at my face. Love your just lord Hassan lest you suffer as I have.”

      “You see!” Lord Hassan thundered, “from what fate I wish to save you, and now, you shall depart troubled spirit.” With a gesture from Hassan, a huge bearded man with ferocious burning eyes raised a cudgel and smote down into the head silencing it forever.

   “Now, Khalil the fatherless, join your fellows and obey your Lord Hassan as you obey Allah.” Abdul joined the ranks of about 30 other men while Hassan addressed them:

   “Your training is ready to begin, over the next six months you will learn much that is unknown outside the walls of my court, this knowledge will prepare you for God so completely that you will sit by Ali’s side in the garden of paradise which some of you have already tasted by my grace. But, you can never leave my side, you will learn to fight for me and for God, you will be respected and feared throughout the world, your exploits will echo into future generations and you shall be truly the army of God. Now to your tutors Ismailis.”

   With that the assembled group of young men were taken away by their tutors to begin their training. When they were gone Hassan waved away his attendants and walked out through a door in the back of the room, he returned with two men, signalling down to the smashed head on the silver tray he said, “get rid of this rubbish,” The men removed the tray which had a hole in the middle around under the head and opened the table exposing the rest of the dead man’s body, they lifted the body between them and left the room.

  Hassan alone now mused to himself, “It’s hard work being God,” and he laughed. He then rubbed his genitals distractedly, “time for God to visit paradise I think,” and left the room.


I'm on FIRE with dat TROOF.

I'm on FIRE with dat TROOF.
Kundalini refugee doing a bit of landscaping.

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For a Few Dollops More....of cat food.

Get back she's gonna blow.

Get back she's gonna blow.

Madonna rolling down the stairs forever....lulz

Madonna rolling down the stairs forever....lulz
Thanks to Long lost soul, wherever you are.

Poptard of the Apocalypse meets Leo.

Poptard of the Apocalypse meets Leo.
Ewwww..... it touched me.