Sat 15 Oct, 2022 07:15 pm
The Belief in God: God, is a Paleo-Arabic term, predating Islam by thousands of years. Indicating a combination of faith (education), media (entertainment), and government (transparency), God is the concept of a nation’s spirit, a nation being a conjoined interest wherein men have power to make war, and women have power to defend. This mutual power, comes from men having a monopoly over the forge, and women having a monopoly over politics, the forge being the source of commodity, and the politicians being the source of leadership. There can be no falsification of ledger, or else a man is gay, a royalty, and there can be no argument of state, or else a woman is a lesbian, a mince. This is the concept of homophobia, necessary to be Catholic, the root and fundamental concept of Civilization (the West).
Sects of the Catholic Religion:
American South: Wicca.
God is the justice of jurisdiction, division, and privacy. Violently defended out of British interest, through the Meso-American tradition of the gunslinger, armed and staffed by military and police veterans, Mobsters and Mafiaso and Officers and Enlisted alike. These are the ones that defend us from slavery, in the name of Abolition, the brutal and violent truncheon against any venturing north of the Mason-Dixon, or west of the Mississippi, with raiding parties (deep hunting country) venturing into enemy territory to slay those Baptists, Methods, and Clansmen that have kidnapped or abjured a citizen of the North (Polaris).
Britain: Golden Dawn Society.
The conjoined power of a man’s phallus and a woman’s yonis, the terms of the male potency of form, and the female defense of her husband. This is the open society of the lay, not in any crude term of mere sex, but instead that of Knighthood, those days before our society and politics were ruled by signs of submission. To demand submission, is to have your ligaments twisted and your jaw removed by hand across the tooth, and to give submission, is to promise revenge. The Knights of the Round Table, are against any demanding fealty, instead of being offered it without asking.
German: St. John’s.
The Evangelists, neither Catholic nor Protestant nor Lutheran nor Anglican nor Jewish nor Islamic, or any for inbetween. This is the invitation of faith, to pass within German Evangelism, to gain one’s own tradition. Communicating in words of key and kingdom, this is the place where you can prove yourself regardless of ethnicity, by proving that you understand your Nation, your sense of worth as a people, not as any petty notion of country or gender, some long bygone form of border or sense of self. This is what your chief author must study, all across the world, for admittance to the Catholic Church as a people with a deliberate philosophy. The Pope lives for all men, and kills for all women, but to have your own tent, you must work with the Evangelists, for Peace: The Undiscovered Country. Or as an Evangelist might say, Shakespeare was better in the original Klingon.
The greatness of the East, be they Greeks, Romans, Russians, Syrians, Iraqis, Switzerland, or Orthodox Jews. These are the orders of Demons, those who would avenge us with blinding might and avenging fury, for being prayed on by a gay man, that who would misconstrue religion as serving themselves, or strike across the face a lesbian woman, who would place us into criminal act. This is the Lawgiver, in the tradition of Moses, caring not for the courts or the infamies of the common man, since they have always controlled these things. A blade across the heart, a strike across the head, or a light flame on the arm, these are the things that Greeks do to prove love, and if their lover is not true, then they shall feel the flames of fury: Satan.
The unitary bond between France, Austria, and Poland, the triangle of Jewish belief in the mercantile, and Christian belief in the purity, through the common need of the Legion. For we are many. The daemon worship, that of those higher stars coming through to us from damned forces above, the study of the Grey, that thing in the night sky we fear. Alienists, they wake in their thoughtful moments to see the Damned, that Fallen Angel that haunts us so, our eyes full and our tears many, for seeking to defeat these greater forces that have culled mankind into such a state. All Gods are equal under Atheism, for grander trade, so we may apply our tactical usage, in France, the coin, in Austria, the belly, and in Poland, the heart, together this being the sanctity of the human labor to make their own way. And if not, then the curassier’s be yours, to label you a rapist. The proper test of the atheist, the slaying of a traitor to the stars.
The Iranian, Cyrus the Great, the dream of Democracy. The ancient world applied Democritus as merely a draw upon lot, not a family. But Israel, is a family of equals, no thought of sexuality or age be given. This is the writ of law, not the body or individual or test, the ancient concept of the traderoad. The Silk Road gives us life, through Babylon, the commune, the cult. Exchanging our word upon law written in penalty, to be obeyed through literature, exchanging our goods through ring, to be given life through Eden, and placing ourselves in a rapture through our consumption, the luxury taken through our mutual flaw. This is the communist ideal, those bred without knowing their parent by eye, instead by all things, the Catholic hidden in the Levant, the people of Israel, whether you be Palestinian or Israeli, a Knesset, truly represented in all things, for good things come with time, but our lives as mortals is terribly short, so we must make due.
God is an escape. Wherever you are, there I’ll find you. God is an Irish priest, an alcoholic, and sometimes, he’s not there with you, but many times, he is. There are good days and bad days, perhaps a slow draw or perhaps a bad hand, but in all things, you’ll find your hole in a bottle, where your mutual brother finds you, and your sister laments, for your life is tidy but none. An Irish lives not for themselves, but the other Irish, and they will live for you, be you the highest Queen, or the lowest spy, admitting Elizabeth Lennox II and Queen Glucksberg, or Jerry Seinfeld or Osama Bin Laden. All these things are ours, watching your films and reading your books and gazing through your comics and hearing of your wars, our little white hands pressed upon your screen, to wonder where the Nubian that we hear you oppressed muchly is. We just wonder why, and we give you our gift, the ways to dodge these things you have placed upon others, regardless of our own burden, hoping you return. The Irish have no God but that we hope you return, and us a Devil, a man smiling to free you for just a bit of your hour.
The core root of the system, the study of linguistics. Your language causes you grave inequity, and to have a madness at study of this language, a higher calling, to grander benefit education and years, those sacrifices given to psychology and psychiatry, not through the firmament of media, nor from the medication of the mind, but rather through the panacea – the study of names and language. Romance. We know where you come from, based on name, from simple observation, perhaps a letter or a meaning, other times a pronunciation or a fault or a change, more often your culture in your name, a machine always, the Italians being a tinker. What are you to me, man, but a person whose will can be determined by an accounting of fact? However you much deny it, we can see your whole background by your choice of names, for they enslave us, our names, and if you have no name, you be a murderer, you bastard. What is a bastard, but a king?
Those wishing to be Lutheran, but in the sacrence of God, not a sanctity or a fragrance, but rather a presence. Lutherans, are those who approach marriage as if an altar of taste, but the Nordic Catholics, take a tradition to wear as a common play, to fight those ancestors they find within themselves. Their children must be armed hard, for this is the Valkyrie’s faith, returned to them by demand, or else blood be drawn, and we Catholics accept you as an ancient warrior’s cry. We want you back, Scandinavia, those of us sobbing to find you again, such a beautiful sight as a man dripping with blood down their arm, or a woman holding a child in thorny hair of tails in the weave. You of Asatru, select your champions, the gift of madness to remove from infirmament, always sensing the real truth of a man, his fictional character that he saw when he was a child, that which was meant for him. Or, if a she, the proper wife, that with which to be a lodestone, to take those valorous warriors, struck down before time, and rise them to heroism once again, a Vargyr, an old sword. They by the order you call the Eye, an ancient memory, that which watches the foe at the gate.
Do you know what a’cholo’ is? It is a soldier, upon the streets and throughout the buildings of the Old City, a thief in Cairo’s tradition. Anyone can be a man of finance or account of letters, it is duty to father. But when a man is trapped, not by woman or sibling or self, but by father, it is time to take the role of the Thief. The most common and misundestood term in society, a Thief is a man who did not understand that of poverty, regardless of place or class, having spoken of themselves in an experience not theirs. There was no knife’s edge or bladed fist, no strangle or choke or manhood to the experience, no blade drawn across the throat in a bride’s hands nor a strike through time and into the space of matrimony. The Hispanic, is that who strikes upon a people based upon observed advantage drawing astray, holding the altar sacred, and if refused, then this man must die, for being misplaced, means a secret misholden. And if he lives, the foe be a Jesuit, born to sodomey in the oldest place, the prison, the inquisitor’s hovel. At that point, it’s a test of revenge, for a man has regarded a man as a ‘spic’, a commoner’s sword, when a cholo is a king.
The Yiddish tongue, is the American spirit. Those here we find in America, the heart of our country being the university, where there’s booze and grass and violence and spies and science. If you can make the heat, through the lands of highschool with the help of the police, the ancient implement of the Jewish Buddhist, in our example of Christ as Founding Fathers, us Presidential Freemasons telling and guiding you the way, you can fight through business markets and highschool jobs and newspapers and news common informers, up through sources of information from your humble teacher and their double life as a raconteur and a vice marketeer, through the land of the police given you state’s purpose as a soldier and spy and cop, slaying those that challenge you with the written word born for fraud and election and memoir and of course, the play and stage, to return home to your mother. And if she’s gone, then you’ve spoken words through passing lips, and you’re a secret agent man, the term uniquely American centuries before the song, someone whose job you don’t suspect – a snake, a representative of the American People, the Founding Fathers. Hoo-rah.
Has a Judaizer wronged you? Perhaps they were claiming Islam, or Protestantism, or your faith, Catholicism? Highlights on dispatch, sir. Marine, deploying. The origin of the Marine Corps tradition, the Balkans highbloods once fought Ottomans for daring to steal our children to mercenary forces called Jannisaries, and they warred for years with Huns born out of Chinese deserts, and they slaughtered Nazis in their own hand, as Partisans and Black Friars and Gestapo, unrelenting of their own faith. They are Samael, the angel of death in the Jewish faith, that which could come to your home easily, that which you must always fear. Tight of muscle by gene, hard of hair by chest bare, in deepest lairs of jiu-jitsu by nature of gene not form, and genius of mind enhanced by any drug they’ve ever done, they are the hand of death. To betray one is suicide, even if forced, but to live through an Ustashe, means that your whole family has been marked, to repay, to the Gestapo.