a funny sentence from the most hateful and provocative text i ever wrote

And now that I have gotten started: especially this “fat acceptance”
trend is to me strikingly comical and pathetic. The “fat acceptance”
movement funnily enough the only movement without actual
movement.

niggo noggo wakka wakka boom boom pow

niggo noggo blakka blakka poom poom wow

the enzymes of revelation which are studied
in the introspective laboratories of the soul

he who belongs to the group
struggles to detect and identify
the nature of that which
weakens it from within

is the purpose of entertainment
to simply interrupt the reality
between the person and the world,
but the purpose of religion
to further the divide between them?

is the purpose of fiction
to combat the loneliness
between the person and the world,
but the purpose of art
to radicalize that very loneliness?

Quasi-Arianist Christological NONFUCKINGSENSE

Jesus Christ did not always exist,
neither physically nor in some divine or metaphysical sense.
rather, i think he was created within time by God.
to me, if God has gifted the Holy Virgin with the birth of his Son,
the Son must have had a beginning of existence, a birth-pang,
a conception at least somewhere in time and space, no?
therefore there was a time when the Son was not.
and therefore Jesus Christ was never co-eternal with God.
and that would logically and theologically make him not God.

man is a deep gorge,
an abyss.

and man is fond
of exploring
abysses.

man is a creator of art
inasmuch
as he creates himself

man is the marble
but also
the sculptor

as martyrs perished
in divine fits
of unedurable clearsight
into the unknown

 what is water for fish?
 the art and spiritual violence by which man seeks God!

 basic tenets of arianism
speak a language to me
in spirit

a fierce meta-Christian heterodoxy
 i promulgate

i am not sure whether any hypostatic union
beween flesh and God took place in Bethlehem.

Jesus Christ did not always exist,
neither physically nor in some divine or metaphysical sense.
rather, i think he was created within time by God.
to me, if God has gifted the Holy Virgin with the birth of his Son,
the Son must have had a beginning of existence, a birth-pang,
a conception at least somewhere in time and space, no?
therefore there was a time when the Son was not.
and therefore Jesus Christ was never co-eternal with God.
and that would logically and theologically make him not God.

roaches of anxiety
crept inside the cranium
of the human brain
to dwell and to dream
nightmares,
sowing pathological diffidence.

todays fkin bullshitt

 man is by nature
and by vocation
a religious seeker.

man seeks the spiritual
augmentation
of being-here.

when man fails to yield
to the common delirium
he is doing God's work.

man is only full
when he lives freely in tune
with his God.

and without this reality,
man is the seat of sickness,
a twitcher in spiritual cramps.

man consists of powers
we otherwise only see
in thunderstorms.

he is by temperament
and by essence
a machinery of anxiety.

and only in salvific embrace
of God's various realities
it can be redeemed.

beware of those who turn their back
on transcendence
and pursue wealth and class
as some pathetic means
of compensation

salute those who turn their back
on the simple complaints
of existential peasants
in pursuit
of stronger ideals

man must find himself some times at no point of reference
and stumble across landscapes of ambiguous truths and deceptions
to find there a sense of adventure and a sense of unlocking,
and of spiritual achievement, in order to appreciate
the inconsistencies and ambiguities of fate

peace and equilibrium bores man to despair,
and predictability is a close false friend.
scorn adventure and dismiss risk all you want;
it is nevertheless the totem
by which you worship humanity as a positive.

man is a deep gorge,
an abyss.

and man is fond
of exploring
abysses.

on terraces of love and light
we overlook
a reality far down below
which is dark and monstrous.

there is bliss in labor and struggle,
and discipline makes freedom
no matter what the hedonists
and the self-lovers
would suggest.

personal singularity is a delusion
if life is not lived fiercely
in the breath of the living God.

only in spiritual warfare
God grants uniqueness,
character, distinction, true selfhood.

in religious radicalization
the individual is forged.

away from God in the cold wastes
we are all but mechanic parts, bolts and screws,
in a hopeless industry of conformity!

without God, every story of every human being
is but another chapter or episode
in an ever sequence of cyclical collapse
flourishing through a grinding, boring repitition

and it can simply not be that simple.
i refuse belief in it.

should matter be but some dense concentration
of meaningless existence, with human life
and its tremendous suffering as epiphenomena?

is there an elemental nullity in value
burning absently at the core of the human experience?

i repudiate these ideas since it indirectly kills the soul.

but perishability and disappointment are ghosts
haunting me without stopping :

is the existential invariability
and genetic and biological predeterminisms
of human nature so constricting
as to be called a prison?

and are even our faiths and beliefs regulated
by dull, worldly mechanisms,
our emotions, our values, our dreams,
some static on some frequency somewhere?
our hearts, mere muscles pumping fluid;
our souls, illusions of consciousness?

no - i can not entertain the silly reductionism
that the world and its constituencies
is but a transitory, wholly meaningless
sort of assemblage of random elements and parts.

but a thirst for doubt
i can not quench,
parching my tongue
with the ash of belief

 i command my evil thoughts to cease
  but they do not

 i try to abdicate i crown and spire
  but my throne has no pretenders.

 my mind and my flesh and my thoughts
  are all melted together

 my cape and my purple shirt
  are coal in the fire of my homestead.

God is the dissolving agent i long for,
and i beware the lecherous traps and pitfalls
which comes when orienting life
in the fleshly reality of a lustful, sinful creature.

but i persist in prayer.
i persist in faith.

i am remembered:

it is not evolutionarily intuitive to seek the otherworld;
man does it nevertheless.

 

i just re-discovered this, a curiosity of mine.

an extensive collection of lost, discarded, scrapped, stupid, unused and, in some exceptional cases, potential future Slutet/TEC song title ideas from ca 2010-2015.

With the Snout of a Pig & the Arse of a Mare (& the Fell of a Boar & the Staff of a Mage)
Herambasuta & the Pancna Makara
Eternal Weltschmerz
The King of All Hyenas on a Throne of Clean Crania
Taiga of Sullen Silence
Our Cute Fires Flicker Above the Steppe and Storm
The Speed of Insomnia
Beheading the Atheism Medusa
Above the Steppe, Beneath the Storm
The Wormcasts of the Love Dragon
All Your Children's Flesh Parted Like a Sea of Moses
A Mass Grave Smiling & Laughing  
All Hungry Storms Ablaze with the Teeth of Requital
Abrahamic Forgiveness Worship
Ripping Off the Friendship Bracelets
A Kafkaesque Labyrinth
Sword of Angst
Only Pyrrhic Victories
Spiritual Intifada
The Écorché of the World
An Aryan Warrior & His Horse
Rotten Moslem Flesh Pave the Road to Ma'arra
Arid Cunt of Chalchiuhtlicue
The Sewer Rats of Joy
Support the Radicalization Of Yourself
A Life in White Noise
The First Revelation: Jibril Shat On Hiras' Floor and Cleaned It Up With Mohammads' Tongue (PBUH)
Zolpidem Knife Guerilla
The Unknown We Don't KnowThe Apnea of Gods
Endless Negative Theology
Self-Destructive Hesychasm
Tabor Light Power Outage
An Open Love Letter to the Desert Mothers
Sound the Horns, Sound the Horns... Anat Has Been Raped...
Zoroastrian Fire Magic
Cursed Aksumite Crown & Spire
Black Bile
The Healing of Our Wound On Hold Until Further Notice
Spiritual Pathogen of the Final Suicide Wave
I am Dhumavati's Sorrow
Running With Scissors Through Life
The Lioness of Uruk, her Iron Staff of Alchemy & a Gloria of Burning Mists
Sinkholes of Endless Possibilites
Existential Assault Rifle
The Magnificent E-Zagin of Nisaba
Spiritual Intifada
A World Soul with Schizo-Affective Disorder
Maldoror: the Kalasjnikov Fucking the Womb Of All Laws
All Axioms Disperse, All Dogma Scatter
Nihilistic & Debased Streetwalkers Alongside Spiritual Reeperbahn
Path of the Existentialist
A Proud Hellenic Soldier & His Bayonet
The Great Women of Epirus
Kakwkylla of Mice & Rats
The Pride of a Zaporozhian Cossack
Carrying the Yokes of Utopia Out of Fear & Angst
Vasilisa the Beautiful & Fucking Dangerous
Get Scared & Arm Yourself
To Hurl the Harpoon of Madness Through the Dying Flesh of the World
Mustardgas Raped the Warm Wind of Love
Spiritual Power Vacuum!
All Cultures Are the One, Same Train of Lemmels
Spiritual Cave Systems to Ecstasy & Suicide
Allahu Akbar, the Mystery Revealed
True Love Is Hell
I Deserved Revenge Even Though my Cuffs Were Golden
...To the Black Tower of Nihilism...
Holy War Sword of the Scythians
Hearts to the Abyss Like Shot Birds Falling
Excarnate Bones of the Fiery Mary
Cyclical Storm of Spiritual Herpes
Morbid Staff of Sacred Panspermia
Usurpation of Vulture Lords and the One Who Sits in Fire
Scourged by the Bull Pizzle
The Diaphragm of Hate Speech
Wing-Clipped Griffins Fall from the Fire in the Sky
Above his Head, the Aureole of Molested Children's Energies Swarm
Deus Fucking Vult
Flesh and Jasmine, Scent of Night & Terror
Thanatomorphosis
Existential Oubliette Beneath Life
A Stream of Offal from a Flower of Flesh and Blood
Kierkegaardian Holocausts
Vomit your Disgusting Pellets Down my Throat
A Dying and Repleting Cornucopia
Naked and Embarrased Cherubim Bleeding Out on the Stairs of Acension
The Balsam of Mass Murder
To Kiss the Hooves of a Nubian Ibex
To'marisning Aytgani (Scythian Hasheesh Initiation)
Love and Beauty
I Am Sheherazade
One Thousand and One Nåjds
Indomitable Swallower of Smiles & Joys
Feeding the Multitude with Rotten Fish and Mold-Bread
Seven Guyots of Past Human Heights
Vomitorium Into Death's Head's Arena
Endlösung der Ateismusfrage
The Final Solution of the Mankind Question
Coelacanth in your Heart
I am a Religious Fanatic
Reptilian Death-Worm of the Mystical Cretaceous
Sacred Crocodile-Temple of Human Sacrifice
Hut of the Prophet Prostitute
The Mysterious Sea Peoples
Rape Life
The Fanatical Religious Worship of Nociception
Tornadogenesis of the Absolute
Transcarpathian Mysticism-Traditions
Sword of Dihya - Malikat al-Barbar
Spiritual Miasma Theory
Violent Emasculations of Whole Cultures & Worlds
Raped in Your Own Safe Space
The Second Great Fire of Babylon
Augustine's Confessions
Arctolatry - Cult of the Bear
Into a Babel of Tongues
The Legend of the Wawel Dragon
Lech, Cech and Rus in Loyal Fraternity on the Battlefields
Ajysyt-Ijaksit-Khotan, Bring the Warmth of Summer
Ceremonial Suicide with Yakutian Knifes
Weapons of the Lechites
The Valor of a Saracen Archer
Vulning to the Antependium
Cracked Lips on the Ire Font of Baptism
Lapidated on Fields of Flowers (in the Pairi Daeza)
The Golden Ghost of the Antependium
Arma Christi - the Christ as a Man of Sorrows
I am the True Cross
The Veil of Veronica Lost to the Latrines
The Case for Human Aniconism
Adoration of the Pederast Magi
In Love with Rabi'a of Basra
From the Oldest of Minarets
Omega Masculinity
Lost in Scetis, Wandering
I am the Lord's Spasm
Fuck Your Tinder Profile
Eternal Graveyards of Concrete & Neon
Swarming on Plastic & Broken Glass
Journey through Kowloon
Into the Sodomite Metropolis
Filthy Slums of a Modern World (A Dying and Repleting Cornucopia)
I Love Islamic Extremism
Journey through Kowloon
Eerie Spectres over Dyatlov
La Saif Illa Zulfiqar (No Sword like Zulfiqar)
Szczerbiec, Sword of Kings
Inhabitants of the Sargasso Bottom
Jihad Bis Saif
The Howling Caryatids of the Etemenanki
Nadab & Abihu Devoured by Holy Fire
Garbage Cathedral
Carrying Yokes of Utopia Out of Fear & Angst
No Trigger Warnings
The Passion of a Terrorist
Brutalist Architecture in Ruination (The Asphalt Steppes)
The White Doves of Castration
Black Aspersorium of the Devil's Menses
Rabid Dog, My Spirit Animal
Death on the Fields of al-Qadisiyyah
The Hagiographies of our Noble Terrorists
Marie Jeanne Valet & the Beast
Anastasia Pharmakolytria
Into the Ancient Yurt of a Mongol Wizard
Black Smoke Unfurls over Rip Mountain
The Gloomy Procession of Thalestris
The Ninth Legion/IX Hispania
Revelations from Augsburg
The Holy Limerence
The Great Lion of Al-Lat Roaring for Vengeance
Bartholomaic Martyrdoom
The Ominous Itkuvirsi of Paraske
Pankration of Souls

DEN ONDA TROLLPACKAN I SKOGENS MITT

det bor en urgammal smal kvinna i ett hus i en skog.

hennes former och dimensioner
är inte alltid att beskrivas
som något mänskligt eller även värdsligt.

ibland tar hon skepnad
av denna åldrade, skrupliga skogsgumma,
men det finns dagar
då hon är ord
 av mardrömsk poesi.

en ond estetik, en ful och hemsk estetik.

en groteskt och kontraintuitivt formgiven människofigur
utan något egentligt mänskligt i henne.

hennes klumpfot slutade aldrig vanställa,
hennes smak för ve och död, lika så.

ett äckligt anlete är svettbelagt,
med en torr och krokig näsa som nästan rinner
ur det pinade, rynkiga ansiktets mitt.

två gapande ögon, två broskiga öron,
ett hud som är ett läder hundraårigt.

ett grått pulver dammar hela hennes kropp
som är svept i vampyrens begravelseduk.

hennes naglar på fingrar och tår
dog aldrig döden hon genomlevde.

skatter gömda i häxstugors krypgrund
 och i enorma mässingkittlar...

koagulerat pineblod och alldeles för gammal talg.
morgonstjärna, kastanj och viol,
paddhår och häxors vårta.

 varulvska trollformler ordas
 i ljuset av den zigenska kättarmånen

yrvaken urgammal siarmakt!

   ockult nattjämning väntad på,
   förstådd och förväntad
   med en medvetet gömd och missbetrodd zodiak
   som enda vägvisare!

    brutna gränser,
    rivna kontrakt med den andra sidan!

mörka djävlars omen är mörka djävlars välkomst!

och en nedåtvänd hästsko över dörren
kungör hennes ankomst...

ombesjungen bejublad förlossning
  från kött och märg,
  till slut.

elddop och stålbad!
tungor av glöd som flammar
 och fördelar sig och riktar sig
 och spottar sitt gift åt varje håll.

  häxeri och mörkerriter...