It is not evolutionarily intuitive to seek the otherworld – man does it nevertheless!

it seems to me impossible to refute
the mythology and the metaphysics of judeo-christianity
once you understand it all properly.

however it is possible to refute some of its ethics
even if you understand it properly.
and it is from this insight i take the next step
in the direction towards my redemption. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* i am not ridden with debt

* i do not suffer from any serious/permanent ailments or sicknesses

* i have great, morally sound and supportive friends and family

* i have my own apartment

* i am sheltered from wars, severe socio-economic hardship, persecution and natural disasters

for these reasons and many more, i am lucky. i thank God for these privileges. and by His Grace i will move through and beyond the toils and struggles of the present day.

perspective is very important. I am in no position whatsoever to bitch, moan and complain. and when i so, i should chastise myself for my sinly transgression of arrogance and self-importance.

life right now is strenuous and boring and hard but in the grander scheme of things, i know how lucky and strong i am. what possibilites i have. what capacity i have to help all my struggling brothers and sisters in the future.

this all breeds a deep sense of humility and gratitude.

and i choose to believe that my life quality becomes better soon, through focus and hard work.

hissa fana, hissa flagg !

gör välkomna skogens stora ugglor.

tjut med silverlunga,

skrik med djävulens skarpa tunga.

en stor krigarinnas hemkomst kungörs.

välkomna Inannas ugglor med pompa och prål,

med pukor och trumpeter och trummor av stål,

med basun och teater och spel!

mardrömska jätteugglor spänner sina vingar, sina ögon!

 

Dreams of lavishness and libertinism bring many men and women down to the clutches of despair, but there are often reasons for this. Few but not very few people choose this actively. No child dreams of it. There are certain deranged specimens of human life altogether alien to the concepts of honor and ethic we ecumenically share, but they are few and far between. Most of the victims of hedonism are just that – victims. They fell on the slippery slope down inferno. And they swallowed Satan's bait. The idealization of hedonistic immoderation as a means of balance to the oppressive psycho-spiritual implications incumbent to human freedom is understandable an approach, though deeply sinister, wrong to the core. To become the cistern of human sin, to drink from oneself freely and without temperance, and to receive the holy water of an unholy faith. To host feasts of indulgence and self-pleasure and to give way to Mammon and to devils and satyrs and fauns! What a debauchery, what as shame. To feel great without paying the proper price or sacrifice! That is the true vice of man – now, then and forever. Human beings suck and taste the marrow of freedom, but spit it out and opt for prison instead. And that is what I, on sadder days, want to do as well. To become disgusting and weak but for a moment! Just for a moment. But I know that a moment of sin turns into an eternity of sin with the blink of an eye. Like a fly to the spider's web you stick to it. Unfortunately, many people can not confront the problem properly, and they lose to it. You become incarnate the spirit of lazy, uncultured gluttony, and you give unto yourself the spoiled self-coddling privileges, the Narcissistic arrogance of trying to ignore what should not be ignored!

If enlightenment meant tulips and sunshine, then everyone would be enlightened, but everyone is not. If hard work was easy, it wouldn't be called hard. If the human spirit was weak in itself, we wouldn't conceptualize strength as an ideal universal. If the meaning of existence means "follow your bliss", I do not want to be here anymore. Bliss is a dead end. Meaning is the pathway forward. Meaning, power, beauty and the Glory of God. To hell with your hedonism and bulwark ideologies. Crawl through the gutter! There is knowledge in dirt and grime, too. The accomplished human is happy, yes, but only as a secondary effect of being accomplished. Happiness can not precede accomplishment. Bliss is a dead end. I promise that. And if you don't believe me – try it. Pursue "happiness" for ten years and see where you find yourself. If enlightenment meant bliss and pleasure, everyone would be enlightened. Because it would be so easy. Why are not everyone happy, then? Where is that utopia? Why is there atrocity, resentment, murder, rape, madness, angst and the harrowing, millenial accumulation of evil and filth in this world? Because bliss and pleasure will not set your free – it will entrap. I say again: if hard work was easy, it wouldn't be hard. The search for meaning goes through many dimlit caverns, believe that! And there is religious truth in the very shadow you try to banish and evict from your heart futily! God is surely a terror for the feeble-minded. That is why he pretends God does not exist. Easier that way, perhaps. However, it is an existential and spiritual falsity, a human error, a self-imposed indemnity, this ever-search for carnal and sensual satisfaction and of material acquisition. And to that I can only leer mockingly. I have no respect for it, because God commands it not, never.

 These trees gleam with strangeness... I am no longer at home. The insight strikes me, I horripilate, my skin goes cold and sensitive. I let go a heavy breath, a sigh, a short smile. I look up – God smiles too. My steps are heavier than yesterday and the air feels denser. Colder, damper. I chip more and more in order to take breaths and it becomes more frightening with each and every one, as if I am ascendant to some great and mountainous plateau. The air filters through the grossness of my palate and becomes distilled of its natural freshness; it is alchemized to green and pungent vapor. A cloud of some black, sullied neon forms in the strained breathings of exhaled air and the hairs on my arm bristle in the morning cold. The ground is frozen in wreaths of hoarfrost and the sudden, strange drop of temperature from yesterday is baffling to my senses, and in the wake of this thought I shiver in body and mind. There is an uncanny atmosphere, an ambiance of natural Nordic melancholy convolving these woodlands now, a dismal fogginess, a foreboding imminence startling and unsettling, and the landscapes have shifted accordingly, along the lines of these, my eerie impressions. The terrain is churlish now – hundreds of robust roots, stumpy and sinuous and like serpents fleeing a scolding earth penetrate the frost-bitten soil and reach like murky antennas towards a bitter sky exploded with a matted, lifeless, sullen coloring...

digging up old shit, re-visiting, adding...

gothic crenelations in iron and bronze

fall from a blood-and-chrome sky

the steel and concrete of skyscrapers

buckling under weights invisible, incalculable...

the heaven ruins in tumult !

bedevilled be the sky with Satans !

imps of night and funeral

dig the Zephyr barrow

and in moonshine golden, silvery

they entomb the memory of it all

respectfully.

behind the aether-stone-gate

an ancient, occult masonry

locks the secret, the shame, within

a hundred feet of solid rock.

something shines in the sky !

a hope unpregnant with truth

and full to the brim instead

with lies.

like the false sun you may witness

in the leering smile of a rapist.

and the souls of thieves and murderers

twinkle like impostor-stars

on a beautiful cosmic canvas, exhausted,

Stockholm-syndromed,

backgrounding...

the spleen of the sky is punctured

and ushered is another age.

between pillars of concrete and plastic

vapor the red hot smoke, it bellows.

over gardens of asphalt and asbestos

the nuclear fallout lands, covers.

and like shingles rashing hellfiery

on the child's skin of innocence

is our ever-sinly nature

a hideousness from which we can not hide.

like a black death of tongues in our mouths

it penetrates all of our defensive mechanisms

with the very words we, ourselves, try to speak.

and hurt by anonymity in depravation,

we became forgetters of our own origin.

everywhere i look !

oakwood carvings and idols

burn or melt or cry tears of blood !

to the sound and smell of downfall

an orchestral conduction sublime

echoes the sweet, sweet soundtrack

of Eschaton !

in thick ponds of amphibians

the lizard's sludge, black, boils

with reptilian spite; bubbles of evil air

break surface tension !

wenches ululate the songs of Night,

thirsty for a petrichor diluvian

impossible as that is to acquire

in a brave new world, a sewer-world

like this one...

 

the modern idea is the idea of unconditional self-love and self-acceptance. and i simply can not imagine a more nihilistic, more depressive, more anti-human idea than that! 

without the gold of growth we are but filth and pigs; losers.  

hedonistic nihilism inflamed the young sores of old mother europe.

the strife to become better became ridiculed, lost and abandoned in the absence of the power it fed from.

no more battles 

no more blood

no more devotion

no more sacrifice

just gluttonies, lusts, addictions and the ever excess! birthing a boredom in existence!

never before was boredom the bane of man, until now...

 the cover of a fantasy blazebirth hall-worship bm band i "had" some years ago

 retarded autistic traits emerged back in the day, some days

the painting is by Karl Wilhelm Diefenbach.