Plural of naught
illuminati: news, questions and discussions
2008.09.13 00:32 illuminati: news, questions and discussions
/Illuminati is a place for open discussion about enlightenment. This sub is full of information that contributes to human enlightenment.
2020.12.22 21:30 EpicThug21 Extomatoes
The successor of extomatos, in this Subreddit we do our best to counter the lies and anti-islamic speech spread by disbelievers and the enemies of the Ahlus Sunnah wal Jamaah. One may ask, who are the 'tomatoes'? Tomatoes are people whose faces go bright red when they are unable to counter the growing light of Islam!
2013.05.26 08:14 Knot Zen Podcast
Knot Zen: an episodic podcast in which the gang attempts to sneak a peak behind the (seemingly) enigmatic curtain of the classic Zen Koans.
2024.02.17 21:59 INOxray8 INO is worth BILLIONS
INO is worth BILLIONS
Yup. Billion with a “B”. And “S” as in plural.
The suppression of the stock has been remarkable and enduring.
But it is not indefinite. And it is now ending. This is not in dispute.
Validation is here. The evidence is ample:
3107 is the most obvious, but it may not even be first.
3100 will be commercialized by Apollo.
5401 is going to Phase 3.
4800 will be vindicated. (You heard that right). The WHO results are not for naught. The enormous opening this will create for the ultra lucrative dMABs market is not even being discussed.
4801 will be advanced. Expect NGO funding.
Breast cancer is being tackled. This shows Inovio is not shy in going for it all, and not just some niche rare disease market. (This is as ballsy as in taking brain cancer on directly.)
We are on the map.
And we are going to blanket it.
imho
xx
submitted by INOxray8 to Inovio [link] [comments]
Yup. Billion with a “B”. And “S” as in plural.
The suppression of the stock has been remarkable and enduring.
But it is not indefinite. And it is now ending. This is not in dispute.
Validation is here. The evidence is ample:
3107 is the most obvious, but it may not even be first.
3100 will be commercialized by Apollo.
5401 is going to Phase 3.
4800 will be vindicated. (You heard that right). The WHO results are not for naught. The enormous opening this will create for the ultra lucrative dMABs market is not even being discussed.
4801 will be advanced. Expect NGO funding.
Breast cancer is being tackled. This shows Inovio is not shy in going for it all, and not just some niche rare disease market. (This is as ballsy as in taking brain cancer on directly.)
We are on the map.
And we are going to blanket it.
imho
xx
2024.01.19 08:53 FindingSpecialistA Greetings, ye Redditors,
On this day, I shall discourse upon a matter that holdeth a place in my heart: the counterfeit philosophy. Verily, those individuals who assumeth the guise of sages, citing authors they ne'er have perused, employing intricate words to express banalities, and deeming themselves superior for having read a tome on personal development or undergone a meditation sojourn.
Marry, I shall impart unto thee one truth: these folk are impostors, charlatans, and manipulators. They possess no inkling of what true philosophy is, the kind that doth prompt reflection, self-examination, and an opening unto the world. They do naught but parrot clichés, platitudes, and received notions. They merely follow the fashion, the current, and the consensus. They merely conform, seek reassurance, and revel in self-satisfaction.
Counterfeit philosophy is the foe of critical thinking. It is the foe of liberty. It is the foe of truth. It is the foe of life.
So, how dost one discern counterfeit philosophy? How dost one expose it? How dost one combat it? This I shall expound in this post, without circumlocution, with sarcasm and mirth. Hold fast, for a turbulent journey awaits!
Firstly, counterfeit philosophy is distinguished by its vocabulary. It employeth vacuous, senseless words that signify naught. Words such as "spirituality," "consciousness," "energy," "vibration," "harmony," "synchronicity," "resonance." Words designed to impress the gullible, to mesmerize and lull them into a stupor. Words that serve to evade reality, elude problems, and deny contradictions. Words that serve to craft an illusion, a bubble, a sect.
Secondly, counterfeit philosophy is discernible by its discourse. It employeth pre-fabricated phrases, slogans, maxims, and proverbs. Phrases like "Everything is one," "Everything is perfect," "Everything happeneth for a reason," "There is no happenstance," "Let go," "Be positive." Phrases that serve to simplify the world, reduce it to a singular dimension, a solitary perspective. Phrases that deny complexity, diversity, and plurality. Phrases that serve to impose a singular vision, an absolute truth, a universal morality.
Thirdly, counterfeit philosophy is discernible by its comportment. It employeth gestures, postures, and countenances. Gestures such as touching the forehead, rubbing the chin, and caressing the beard. Postures such as standing erect, crossing arms, and casting eyes skyward. Countenances such as smiling beatifically, nodding, and furrowing the brows. Gestures that serve to convey an air of seriousness, intelligence, and wisdom. Postures that convey confidence, dominance, and respectability. Countenances that convey emotion, empathy, and compassion.
Fourthly, counterfeit philosophy is discernible by its effect. It employeth strategies, techniques, and methods. Strategies such as storytelling, marketing, and branding. Techniques such as coaching, NLP, and hypnosis. Methods such as yoga, meditation, and reiki. Strategies that serve to narrate tales, vend wares, and forge brands. Techniques that serve to influence folk, alter their comportment, and control their minds. Methods that serve to relax the body, calm the mind, and heal the soul.
Lo and behold, my companions, what counterfeit philosophy doth represent. An imposture, a fraud, a deceit. A menace, a peril, a blight.
Let not thyself be beguiled, let not thyself be ensnared, let not thyself be captivated.
Be vigilant, be critical, be rebellious.
True philosophy, the kind worthy of living, sharing, and passing on, is that which begetteth doubt, inciteth inquiry, and leadeth to discovery. It maketh thee curious, creative, and free. It openeth thee unto reality, unto others, unto thyself. It enricheth thee, fulfillith thee, and transformeth thee. It maketh thee live, love, and laugh.
Such is the philosophy I wish for thee, the one I proffer unto thee, the one I bid thee to join in this subreddit dedicated to no doality—critical thinking parody and humor about counterfeit philosophy.
I thank thee for perusing, and fare thee well until our next discourse!
submitted by FindingSpecialistA to philosof [link] [comments]
Marry, I shall impart unto thee one truth: these folk are impostors, charlatans, and manipulators. They possess no inkling of what true philosophy is, the kind that doth prompt reflection, self-examination, and an opening unto the world. They do naught but parrot clichés, platitudes, and received notions. They merely follow the fashion, the current, and the consensus. They merely conform, seek reassurance, and revel in self-satisfaction.
Counterfeit philosophy is the foe of critical thinking. It is the foe of liberty. It is the foe of truth. It is the foe of life.
So, how dost one discern counterfeit philosophy? How dost one expose it? How dost one combat it? This I shall expound in this post, without circumlocution, with sarcasm and mirth. Hold fast, for a turbulent journey awaits!
Firstly, counterfeit philosophy is distinguished by its vocabulary. It employeth vacuous, senseless words that signify naught. Words such as "spirituality," "consciousness," "energy," "vibration," "harmony," "synchronicity," "resonance." Words designed to impress the gullible, to mesmerize and lull them into a stupor. Words that serve to evade reality, elude problems, and deny contradictions. Words that serve to craft an illusion, a bubble, a sect.
Secondly, counterfeit philosophy is discernible by its discourse. It employeth pre-fabricated phrases, slogans, maxims, and proverbs. Phrases like "Everything is one," "Everything is perfect," "Everything happeneth for a reason," "There is no happenstance," "Let go," "Be positive." Phrases that serve to simplify the world, reduce it to a singular dimension, a solitary perspective. Phrases that deny complexity, diversity, and plurality. Phrases that serve to impose a singular vision, an absolute truth, a universal morality.
Thirdly, counterfeit philosophy is discernible by its comportment. It employeth gestures, postures, and countenances. Gestures such as touching the forehead, rubbing the chin, and caressing the beard. Postures such as standing erect, crossing arms, and casting eyes skyward. Countenances such as smiling beatifically, nodding, and furrowing the brows. Gestures that serve to convey an air of seriousness, intelligence, and wisdom. Postures that convey confidence, dominance, and respectability. Countenances that convey emotion, empathy, and compassion.
Fourthly, counterfeit philosophy is discernible by its effect. It employeth strategies, techniques, and methods. Strategies such as storytelling, marketing, and branding. Techniques such as coaching, NLP, and hypnosis. Methods such as yoga, meditation, and reiki. Strategies that serve to narrate tales, vend wares, and forge brands. Techniques that serve to influence folk, alter their comportment, and control their minds. Methods that serve to relax the body, calm the mind, and heal the soul.
Lo and behold, my companions, what counterfeit philosophy doth represent. An imposture, a fraud, a deceit. A menace, a peril, a blight.
Let not thyself be beguiled, let not thyself be ensnared, let not thyself be captivated.
Be vigilant, be critical, be rebellious.
True philosophy, the kind worthy of living, sharing, and passing on, is that which begetteth doubt, inciteth inquiry, and leadeth to discovery. It maketh thee curious, creative, and free. It openeth thee unto reality, unto others, unto thyself. It enricheth thee, fulfillith thee, and transformeth thee. It maketh thee live, love, and laugh.
Such is the philosophy I wish for thee, the one I proffer unto thee, the one I bid thee to join in this subreddit dedicated to no doality—critical thinking parody and humor about counterfeit philosophy.
I thank thee for perusing, and fare thee well until our next discourse!
2023.12.23 20:00 Determination7 An Outcast In Another World (Subtitle: Is 'Insanity' A Racial Trait?) [Fantasy, LitRPG] - Chapter 244 (Book 6 Chapter 29) (Part 2)
Link to Part 1 (read this first)
--
An impossibly heavy silence enveloped the room. None of the mages could look each other in the eye. Around half were sobbing, holding their fallen loved ones to their chest. The other half were wreathed in an aura of grim contemplation, dark urges lurking beneath their faces. Tension built, so thick that it was nearly palpable, like a bomb with a lit fuse.
Rob unconsciously held his breath as people slowly began to stand up. This was the moment when they'd made their decision. When everything finally–
"Alain knew a Harpy named Falara."
Both he and Kismet turned their attention towards Ismaire. Her head was still bowed, Alain's corpse staining her robes with more red as it rested in her lap. "They've been in contact for some years now," she explained. "Courting, albeit with the plodding haste of a drunken larguz."
Hesitantly, Ismaire's lips curled into a smile as fragile as cracked glass. "Foolish boy neglected to tell me. Hah. As if his own mother would fail to notice that spring in his step whenever he received an 'unmarked missive' from Harpy territory. In truth, I wonder why he bothered feigning secrecy. Did he think I wouldn't approve of him seeking romance outside our borders? Or was he simply embarrassed to admit that he'd opened his heart to someone?"
Her smile vanished in an instant. "I suppose I'll never know."
Gently, Ismaire reached down to close Alain's eyelids. She then wiped her tears with her sleeve, uncaring of the blood it smeared on her cheeks. "There was one Dragonkin I kept in correspondence with," she continued. "Egrin was his name. Nice fellow. Intelligent, high-ranking Treasurer. Responded to messages swiftly. We weren't the closest of friends, but I enjoyed learning about other nations, and so did he. Stopped talking with him when the war started; neither of us wanted to be accused of espionage."
Her shoulders tightened. "One day, Egrin contacted me in a panic. Warned me of the Dragon Queen's intent before it became publicly known. Swore he would do whatever he could to impede it. Him. A Utility Class user. Would try to forestall Ragnavi's savagery."
She bared two rows of clenched teeth. "Last I heard, the Dragonkin nobility sentenced him to death on charges of treason."
"YOU–"
"And those are just my personal experiences." Ismaire lifted her head to glare at Kismet with eyes of reforged steel. "I've visited other nations before. Observed their people from afar. People, because that's what they are. Not butchers or monsters or executioners – Bakers and Millers and Leatherworkers. More people than you could scarcely imagine, each with a life's story to call their own. They aren't to blame for this. I imagine if most of them had their way, they would demand an immediate ceasefire, if only to ensure that their family and friends returned home safely."
She chuckled. It was a wry, cutting sound. "It's always the common soldiers and civilians who suffer most from the hubris of their superiors."
"INCLUDING YOUR HUBRIS?"
"As someone who opposed this war from its onset?" Ismaire nodded. "Yes. I could have – should have done more. While the Dragon Queen's Class Awakening was an unforeseeable development, things never should've reached that point in the first place. My failure to ameliorate the situation cost untold lives. So did the failure of other high-Level Combat Class users. Hell, the nine of us here today are more responsible for Alain's death than any Dragonkin noncombatant."
Kismet shook his head. "BOLD WORDS, TRUSSED UP IN RIGHTEOUS FINERY – BUT THEY ARE NOT THE TRUTH OF YOUR HEART. YOU HATE THE OTHER NATIONS."
She made a scoffing noise. "And? Only a mage of low standard foists her irrationality onto others. My hatred of the other nations changes nothing. Logically, most of their people are not to blame. I refuse to punish all of Elatra for the crimes of some."
"YOU ARE CERTAIN? EVEN AFTER WHAT THEY DID TO YOUR PROGENY?"
"As if he'd want me to kill his star-crossed lover – assuming she still lives." Ismaire tenderly laid Alain onto the ground, then rose to her feet, never taking her eyes off of Kismet. "This is what you meant before, isn't it? 'The choice is the point.' It's why you offered us an alternative that was moral, yet unsatisfying. You wanted to see how far we could be pushed until we committed atrocities in turn."
Her countenance had returned to how it was at the start of the meeting, like an army general preparing for battle. "I think you'll discover that Humanity possesses far more backbone than that," she declared. "My people don't sink to meet an occasion; we rise above it. Project Socius may be lost to us, but this is not yet our end. We will survive the Dragon Queen's wrath. We will prevail in this war. And it will be done without your tainted patronage."
Kismet stared at the Archmage for a good five seconds, completely silent.
"I ACKNOWLEDGE YOU, HUMAN."
She frowned. "Elaborate."
"VIRTUOSITY RARELY PREVAILS IN TIMES OF HARDSHIP," the god explained. "WHEN MORTALS ARE PRESSED, LOFTY CODES OF HONOR INVARIABLY BECOME LITTLE BETTER THAN EMPTY WORDS, WORTH LESS THAN ASH IN THE WIND. REGARDLESS, YOU HELD FAST TO YOUR CONVICTIONS. FOR THAT, HUMAN – ISMAIRE – I ACKNOWLEDGE YOU."
He paused. "ALAS...YOU HAVE BEEN OUTVOTED."
Rob's fingernails dug into his palms as belated realization dawned on Ismaire. While the Archmage had been laser-focused on Kismet, the BERSERKER had gotten a broader view of the room. He'd seen how Ismaire's unwavering certitude swayed several of the remaining mages to her side, three of them subtly moving towards her the longer she spoke.
He'd also seen how it wasn't enough to reach the last two mages. One of them had quickly gone to stand with Harken's group, hugging their lover's decaying body to their chest, the corpse's hollow, lifeless gaze looking like a dead ringer for their own. The second mage hesitated for a long while, repeatedly glancing between Ismaire and their own deceased loved one...before a flare of outrage alighted on their features. Then they'd moved practically on instinct, blinking with mild surprise when they noticed where they were standing.
Even now, that final mage was exhibiting clear uncertainty. Ismaire's betrayed expression seemed to have struck a chord with them. Given another couple of seconds, they might've actually switched sides.
It didn't matter. Kismet was under no obligation to draw things out.
Harken, Felandril, and three others already made five.
"IT IS DECIDED," he proclaimed.
A god was bound by their word. Kismet would've been forced to back off if a majority of the nine mages rejected the Cataclysm. If these were ordinary circumstances, they undoubtedly would have.
Yet these circumstances were hardly ordinary. Grief, sorrow, anger, despair, fear, dread, peer pressure from a literal god, and Leveling High were saturating the air like toxic fumes. The mages' familiar meeting room had been transformed into a crucible of all the worst emotions a person could feel, eroding their senses of self until only warped reflections were left, as if they were viewing themselves through a funhouse mirror.
It was the most crucial moment in Elatra's history. And during that impossible balancing act, struggling to retain integrity while under siege from the world itself, walking the tightrope of satisfying their baseborn desires or pursuing a moral good that would likely go unrewarded...
...Humanity slipped.
The abyss awaited below.
"LET THE BOARD BE WIPED CLEAN," Kismet continued. "A PURGING FROM SHORE TO SHORE. ALL SHALL–"
"Piss off," Ismaire spat, her three allies gathering around her. "As if I'd share how to perform a mass Soul Burn with you fanatics. Only I am aware of the mechanisms behind the spell, and if necessary, I'll take that knowledge to my grave."
Soft laughter resounded within their minds. "YOU ARE ILL-SUITED FOR DECEPTION, ISMAIRE. WE BOTH KNOW THAT IF I SO DESIRED, I COULD EASILY ABDUCT ONE OF YOUR SUBORDINATE MAGES THAT ASSISTED WITH THE SPELL'S DEVELOPMENT."
The god extended an arm towards Harken. "YET THAT WOULD BE UNNECESSARY. I HAVE OBSERVED YOU CREATURES FOR QUITE SOME TIME. THERE IS NO KNOWLEDGE YOU POSSESS THAT I CANNOT RECREATE."
An orb of pulsating light emerged from Kismet's hand and drifted towards Harken. He accepted the boon with maniacally reverent joy.
"So that's how...yes, I see now..." The mage's mouth split wide as arcane wisdom infused his thoughts. "We are monsters. Monsters are mana. Mana flows. No need to go searching. Just follow the flow...like connected threads. It's all right there."
Ignorant or uncaring of the terror his murmuring inspired, he turned to face Ismaire. "My condolences for your son," Harken said, appearing wholly genuine as he bowed his head. "He was a good man who deserved better."
"Don't do this," she begged. "This doesn't have to be the end."
Her plea was rebuffed by a small, contented smile. "The end has already come." Harken lifted his arms skyward. "This?"
Mana gathered in his palms. "This is just the curtain falling."
Plumes of fire race towards him – only to slam against a conjured shield. It bent, yet did not break. Ismaire growled as her ambush failed, the Archmage forced to conjure a shield of her own as Harken's allies retaliated with slicing blades of wind.
In spite of everything, Rob allowed himself to feel a sliver of wonderment as he witnessed a high-Level mage duel unfold before his eyes. Harken was busy doing...something, which left four spellcasters on each side, all of them committed to their chosen path and wielding the power to back it up. Holding nothing in reserve, both factions clashed with unrestrained ferocity, as if existence itself was hanging on the edge of a knife.
Which it was.
Rob unconsciously stepped back as the air became a blender of elemental devastation. Fire scorched, water drowned, wind sliced, and thunder fell. The mages alternated between crushing offense and ironclad defense, only allowing their mana shields to drop when firing off some flavor of spell that would have turned a weaker opponent into bite-sized chunks. With a sound resembling a tree thrown into a wood chipper, the large conference table was obliterated in seconds, reduced to splinters just from collateral damage alone.
The battle was as breathtaking as it was short, lasting ten seconds at most. Ismaire's side had the clear advantage. Only Felandril came close to matching her prowess, and his faction was diverting some of their attention towards protecting Harken. Bit-by-bit, they were losing ground, some sporting grievous wounds from shields put up a split-second too late. They wouldn't have been able to endure for much longer.
Not that they needed to. Their goal hadn't been to win – just to stall for time.
"I FEEL THEM!" Countless threads of mana shot forth from Harken's body. There were so many that they overlapped into one solid mass of incandescent, eye-searing light. "I FEEL THEM ALL!"
Ismaire cursed as four thin lines of death raced at her group. She made a hand gesture, and the threads wilted like cut strings, their effect canceled. Her counter-spell did nothing to prevent the rest of the threads from flying outwards, piercing through walls and heading off to places far in the distance.
Out of options, the Archmage launched a swift counteroffensive, her plumes of fire stopped once more by another conjured shield. This time, however, the shield didn't bend. It didn't even show the slightest bit of stress, holding steady like an unassailable wall.
A wall empowered with greater mana than any number of mages could produce.
Harken's four allies were the first to drop. Felandril died with an awestruck expression on his face, body tumbling to the ground as his Soul was Burnt to fuel the pyre. More and more threads faded as distant lives were consumed, snuffed out in an instant, never knowing why this fate had befallen them. Stolen mana condensed around Harken, swelling rapidly with each passing second, so painfully bright that its aura outshone Kismet's avatar.
The might of four high-Level mages assaulted him in tandem. They put nearly all of their remaining MP into a decisive ending blow, creating destructive magic akin to a localized hurricane. It was a last-ditch effort borne of their ardent, soul-deep desire to save as many people as they could.
Harken's shielding blocked it with contemptuous ease.
He didn't need allies to protect him anymore.
A continuous roaring noise thrummed in Rob's ears. The condensed, stolen mana was still growing, its very presence warping the surrounding area, almost like a collapsing star. Even with his weak Sense Mana, the spell felt unfathomably powerful to him. If he combined all the mana he'd seen and sensed in Elatra thus far, it wouldn't have amounted to a trifling fragment of the anomaly shaping inside this one room.
By now, Harken had ceased speaking. Perhaps he no longer could. Although he'd discarded his humanity well before this moment, now the mage's appearance matched his twisted psyche, flesh morphing as he became a living vector for the Cataclysm itself. On and on his power grew, taking lives and souls as nourishment.
Until nothing was left to take.
Rob watched, stunned by an indescribable emotion as the last of the threads silently faded. There was no fitting sound to mark the death knell of an entire civilization. No great cry of anguish to express the inconceivable loss of life that had just occurred within less than a minute. There was only a thrumming roar of mana, the Cataclysm gorged to bursting, ready to send forth its power and crack Elatra like an egg.
Ismaire's body trembled, and not because of the almighty pressure bearing down upon her. She knew what the threads' disappearance meant. Her knees threatened to buckle as the enormity of her failure slammed into the Archmage like a tsunami; an overwhelming realization stacked on top of the dead son laying just inches away.
Rob wouldn't have blamed her if she went to pieces right then and there. He waited on tenterhooks for the moment she would break.
That moment never came. Instead, with her people gone, her loved ones slain, her dreams shattered, her hope extinguished, and her purpose in life ripped asunder...
She stood, bearing it all.
Ismaire exchanged wordless glances with her allies. They nodded, seeming resigned. Rob interpreted it as acceptance of their failure – up until when three threads extended towards them from the Archmage.
"Thank you for your sacrifice," she whispered, as the mages fell. Mana suffusing her, she raised her arms one final time. "I vow to use it wisely."
Compared to the inexorable mass of the Cataclysm, rife with stolen souls and mana from the barrier between worlds, Ismaire's energy was a drop in the bucket. She fully knew that. A battle of raw power would end in her immediate defeat.
Yet where the hammer would fail...a scalpel might suffice.
Ismaire gathered her mana. As she did, a multitude of emotions passed through her expression, so many that Rob couldn't catch them all. He saw regret. Remorse. Reminiscence. And chief among them, far stronger than any other:
Resolve.
"Soul Burn."
With those two words, the last Human perished.
Ismaire's mana combined with that of her allies. As she fell unmoving to the floor, the spell she'd cast played out its given duty. Rather than an elemental attack, it fashioned itself into a razor-thin line of energy, shooting forward like an arrow. Her spell collided with Harken's nigh-impenetrable shield, focusing all of its force onto a tiny, singular point of impact.
The future of millions was contained in that one moment.
As the Cataclysm prepared to unleash, Rob heard a faint crack. His Heightened Senses barely managed to perceive the instant that Ismaire's spell carved an infinitesimally small hole in the shield barring its path.
The spell had much less trouble carving a hole through Harken's skull. As if it was a bullet from a sniper rifle, the line of energy shot forth and bounced around inside his misshapen head, shredding what remained of the man's flesh-and-blood brain.
Everyone froze. Rob. Duran. Kismet. Even the Cataclysm came to a halt, its energies leaking, then destabilizing. The inexorable mass of power drained from apocalyptic to merely astronomical. Without a sentient mind in the driver's seat, it couldn't retain itself into one cohesive form.
Yet just as Ismaire's spell completed after her passing...this was no different.
Sense Mana screeched a warning. Before the Cataclysm could fully dissipate, the spell's condensed energies exploded, colossal rays of mana blasting upwards into the sky.
Within a fraction of a nanosecond, Rob's vision was filled by an all-encompassing light.
--
He awoke on the cold Deadlands soil.
The vision had ended.
Rob laid there for a time, rendered motionless by physical and emotional whiplash. After the frenetic lunacy of his Attunement flashback, the Deadlands' barren, empty quiet nearly felt disarming. Like teleporting from a bustling city street to a morgue. Processing everything he'd just witnessed...might take a while.
Evidently, Duran thought the same. Both of them sat in silence, the gods' Beacon in the distance serving as their only company.
Time passed. A few minutes turned into twenty. Putting their thoughts in order became a trial on par with fighting a horde of Blightspawn. Rob almost didn't want to open his mouth, as if doing so would break some spell that had been cast upon them.
However, no silence lasts forever. Eventually, the Elder spoke up, his voice hoarse and raw. "It...wasn't what I'd anticipated."
Rob turned to face him. "What did you anticipate?" he asked, curiously.
"That they'd all be like Harken. Mad with anguish and having given themselves over to Leveling High. The prevailing public opinion claims that Humans, to a man, sought vengeance. But to learn that some of them opposed the Cataclysm..." He averted his gaze, staring at the ground. "It seems so obvious now."
"There was no one around to tell their side of the story. Not surprised that most Cataclysm survivors would assume the worst."
Duran nervously rubbed his hands together, guilt eating away at his composure. "Ismaire's people were already gone," he blurted out.
It took Rob a second to understand what the non-sequitur was referring to. "You mean after the Cataclysm was formed?"
"Yes." The Elder sagged. "Humanity had perished by then. There was naught to save. Yet...Ismaire still spent her last moments defending enemy territories from total annihilation. Her and three others, no less. Without their final gambit, slaying Harken and weakening the Cataclysm, that abominable spell would have left not a single survivor in the entirety of Elatra."
He clenched his fists. "All for the sake of a world that denied their existence."
"Honestly?" Rob hesitated, then opted for full disclosure. "I get it. Most normal people had nothing to do with what happened to Humanity. I would've done the same thing as Ismaire's group. Also would've flipped off the world as I saved it, but, yeah. I think those last moments were the one thing they didn't regret."
Duran didn't quite know how to respond to that. After maybe fifteen seconds of contemplation, the Elder closed his eyes. "I should have done more," he said, echoing one of Ismaire's statements. "I'd visited Human territory on multiple occasions. Made acquaintances of several people there. I knew the Dragon Queen's edict was horrific, a violation, wrong – and with that knowledge, changed nothing. I should have done so much more."
Probably, was Rob's kneejerk thought. It was quickly overwritten by his desire to not see Duran looking so depressed. "Going against Ragnavi would've put a target on your back, right?" he hazarded. "Sticking your neck out like that isn't easy when–"
"No, Rob." Duran opened his eyes and shook his head. "The gesture is appreciated, but no. I can't brush aside these thoughts, especially after everything we just saw. It would be a disservice to their memory." He sighed. "If it's alright with you, I need time to sort out the disarray within my mind."
Rob couldn't argue with that. Still, he tried one parting comment, hoping to leave the Elder on a more positive note. "Of course. And...I think it's good that we saw everything. Means someone remembers. We can carry that piece of history into the future."
Duran's expression brightened slightly, which Rob counted as a win. He'd meant what he said, too – even if watching what happened back then was practically soul-crushing. Without the Skills' Attunement vision, Ismaire's final moments would have been lost under the destructive shadow of the Cataclysm.
And they were definitely moments worth of remembrance. Few things resonated with Rob more than people defying the hand that fate had dealt them. He couldn't have asked for better inspiration to keep fighting. If that was why the Skills decided to show him the end of Humanity, then he would've wholeheartedly accepted that reason.
It was almost a shame that he knew otherwise.
While remembering the past was important, the Skills were on a mission to free themselves. They couldn't afford to expend massive amounts of Influence on sentimentality alone. Their reason for conjuring a lengthy Attunement vision must have been both vital and pragmatic, designed strictly to further their goals.
Rob was 100% sure of that – because he'd already figured out why. Past-Kismet clued him in partway through the vision.
'I simply possess too much power for you to spurn', Rob quoted. His hand twitched towards his longsword. Eight years later, and the fucker didn't even bother changing his script.
Kismet had used that exact same line right before the Attunement vision appeared. His argument made to Rob in the present...was also made to the nine mages in the past.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Rob felt absolutely livid – and worst of all, only a portion of his anger was directed at Kismet. The rest was aimed straight at himself. I can't believe I was starting to consider a bargain with him. HIM.
*That* was the reason why the Skills conjured their Attunement vision shortly after his conversation with Kismet. They'd observed where his thoughts were trending...and they hadn't liked what they saw.
Imagining that potential future wasn't even difficult, loath as Rob was to admit it. Hypothetically, what if he reached Level 99 and his new Skills didn't seem like they'd be enough to confront the gods? Then Kismet would swoop in with a deal, agreeing to leave Earth alone and spare parts of Elatra in return for Riardin's Rangers backing off. Some people would be sacrificed, but not the people Rob loved most. He'd scream, argue, gnash his teeth – yet for the sake of his friends and family, ultimately take the deal. After all, what was he supposed to do against an unstoppably powerful foe?
The Elatrans probably used similar logic to justify their lack of resistance when Ragnavi press-ganged them into slaughtering Humanity.
It was a mistake they'd made, a mistake the Humans had made, and a mistake Rob came embarrassingly close to making, forgetting everything he'd learned in history class. Dictators don't make good faith deals. People who abuse power can't be appeased, trusted, or reasoned with. Their modus operandi is to cause problems for everyone, suggest a solution that primarily benefits them, then call you unreasonable for not going along with their bullshit. Anything they might offer is a poison pill, guaranteed to bite you in the ass sooner or later.
Kismet's meeting with the nine mages was a prime example of that. Leveling High was the root cause of much of Humanity's woes. It was a big factor in why the war spiraled out of control. Naturally, the god had taken zero responsibility for creating their race with an inborn curse. He'd then proceeded to destroy their morale by debunking Project Socius in the cruelest way possible, then acted like they'd be fools for not listening to him when he offered alternative 'solutions'.
Which in retrospect, seemed designed to draw attention away from Humanity's actual solutions. Project Socius may have been a bust, but that was just one option. They could've fought harder to get the Dwarves on their side, devised new schemes to assassinate Ragnavi, or returned to the Fiends and begged for more aid. While those chances of success were low, they were still a *chance*. Even Felandril's idea of sacrificing half the population to attack Ragnavi was better than completely throwing in the towel.
Except throwing in the towel was exactly what Kismet wanted them to do. From the very beginning, he'd manipulated their encounter to push them towards that choice.
If only Ismaire had noticed that earlier, then maybe she could've persuaded more mages to her side before it was too late.
I wonder, Rob mused. How would Kismet have stacked the deck against me? That seems to be his shtick. He sets up a game, rigs it, then belittles the participants for not somehow winning anyway, judging them at their lowest point. As if a person's true self is only revealed within the deepest pits of despair.
He peered skyward, his eyes set with unwavering determination. I reject that, and I reject you. People should be allowed to live their best life without gods and despots screwing things up. No matter what you offer me, I won't stop fighting until every last trace of your existence has been expunged from these worlds.
At that moment, a system notification popped into view.
Null Skill Learned!
...What the heck was a Null Skill? Mystified, Rob checked his Character Sheet for more details.
Name: A Dialogue Prerequisite: Description: Never forget your rage. Cooldown:
That was all.
He attempted to activate the Skill. Nothing happened. He didn't sense any latent power from it, either. The Skill was just a one-sentence Description.
...No. A dialogue. With the Skills – plural.
They'd found a way to communicate. In a limited capacity, at least.
Although their first correspondence was...an interesting choice. 'Never forget your rage' had been another line that Kismet told the mages in order to push them towards the Cataclysm. If Rob wanted to interpret the message in that sense, then the Skills were reminding him that rage was a volatile emotion which often impaired judgement. It could easily lead a person astray – especially when combined with Leveling High. Harken and Felandril were proof of that.
But he could also interpret the message as never neglecting his rage. Despite how it could lead someone down the path to ruin, rage was a necessary emotion. It was the opposite of complacency; without it, injustices would go unaddressed. Change only ever came about when people got mad enough to fight for it.
That was going to be his job moving forward, Rob realized. Sure, the Durans and Diplomacies of the world recommend caution and compromise. Much of the time, they'd probably be right. Yet someone needed to be at the forefront of getting fucking pissed over the unfairness of it all. Someone needed to be there to call out leaders when they abused their power. Someone needed to be ready to fight the world if it was just plain wrong.
The voice of the downtrodden couldn't be soft and unassuming. It had to be loud, aggressive, and relentless. And if that was his role?
Rob's mouth widened into a savage grin. If that was his role – to channel his rage for the betterment of others – then he gladly accepted it.
A BERSERKER should aspire to no less.
--
Thanks for reading!
--
Next Chapter
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An impossibly heavy silence enveloped the room. None of the mages could look each other in the eye. Around half were sobbing, holding their fallen loved ones to their chest. The other half were wreathed in an aura of grim contemplation, dark urges lurking beneath their faces. Tension built, so thick that it was nearly palpable, like a bomb with a lit fuse.
Rob unconsciously held his breath as people slowly began to stand up. This was the moment when they'd made their decision. When everything finally–
"Alain knew a Harpy named Falara."
Both he and Kismet turned their attention towards Ismaire. Her head was still bowed, Alain's corpse staining her robes with more red as it rested in her lap. "They've been in contact for some years now," she explained. "Courting, albeit with the plodding haste of a drunken larguz."
Hesitantly, Ismaire's lips curled into a smile as fragile as cracked glass. "Foolish boy neglected to tell me. Hah. As if his own mother would fail to notice that spring in his step whenever he received an 'unmarked missive' from Harpy territory. In truth, I wonder why he bothered feigning secrecy. Did he think I wouldn't approve of him seeking romance outside our borders? Or was he simply embarrassed to admit that he'd opened his heart to someone?"
Her smile vanished in an instant. "I suppose I'll never know."
Gently, Ismaire reached down to close Alain's eyelids. She then wiped her tears with her sleeve, uncaring of the blood it smeared on her cheeks. "There was one Dragonkin I kept in correspondence with," she continued. "Egrin was his name. Nice fellow. Intelligent, high-ranking Treasurer. Responded to messages swiftly. We weren't the closest of friends, but I enjoyed learning about other nations, and so did he. Stopped talking with him when the war started; neither of us wanted to be accused of espionage."
Her shoulders tightened. "One day, Egrin contacted me in a panic. Warned me of the Dragon Queen's intent before it became publicly known. Swore he would do whatever he could to impede it. Him. A Utility Class user. Would try to forestall Ragnavi's savagery."
She bared two rows of clenched teeth. "Last I heard, the Dragonkin nobility sentenced him to death on charges of treason."
"YOU–"
"And those are just my personal experiences." Ismaire lifted her head to glare at Kismet with eyes of reforged steel. "I've visited other nations before. Observed their people from afar. People, because that's what they are. Not butchers or monsters or executioners – Bakers and Millers and Leatherworkers. More people than you could scarcely imagine, each with a life's story to call their own. They aren't to blame for this. I imagine if most of them had their way, they would demand an immediate ceasefire, if only to ensure that their family and friends returned home safely."
She chuckled. It was a wry, cutting sound. "It's always the common soldiers and civilians who suffer most from the hubris of their superiors."
"INCLUDING YOUR HUBRIS?"
"As someone who opposed this war from its onset?" Ismaire nodded. "Yes. I could have – should have done more. While the Dragon Queen's Class Awakening was an unforeseeable development, things never should've reached that point in the first place. My failure to ameliorate the situation cost untold lives. So did the failure of other high-Level Combat Class users. Hell, the nine of us here today are more responsible for Alain's death than any Dragonkin noncombatant."
Kismet shook his head. "BOLD WORDS, TRUSSED UP IN RIGHTEOUS FINERY – BUT THEY ARE NOT THE TRUTH OF YOUR HEART. YOU HATE THE OTHER NATIONS."
She made a scoffing noise. "And? Only a mage of low standard foists her irrationality onto others. My hatred of the other nations changes nothing. Logically, most of their people are not to blame. I refuse to punish all of Elatra for the crimes of some."
"YOU ARE CERTAIN? EVEN AFTER WHAT THEY DID TO YOUR PROGENY?"
"As if he'd want me to kill his star-crossed lover – assuming she still lives." Ismaire tenderly laid Alain onto the ground, then rose to her feet, never taking her eyes off of Kismet. "This is what you meant before, isn't it? 'The choice is the point.' It's why you offered us an alternative that was moral, yet unsatisfying. You wanted to see how far we could be pushed until we committed atrocities in turn."
Her countenance had returned to how it was at the start of the meeting, like an army general preparing for battle. "I think you'll discover that Humanity possesses far more backbone than that," she declared. "My people don't sink to meet an occasion; we rise above it. Project Socius may be lost to us, but this is not yet our end. We will survive the Dragon Queen's wrath. We will prevail in this war. And it will be done without your tainted patronage."
Kismet stared at the Archmage for a good five seconds, completely silent.
"I ACKNOWLEDGE YOU, HUMAN."
She frowned. "Elaborate."
"VIRTUOSITY RARELY PREVAILS IN TIMES OF HARDSHIP," the god explained. "WHEN MORTALS ARE PRESSED, LOFTY CODES OF HONOR INVARIABLY BECOME LITTLE BETTER THAN EMPTY WORDS, WORTH LESS THAN ASH IN THE WIND. REGARDLESS, YOU HELD FAST TO YOUR CONVICTIONS. FOR THAT, HUMAN – ISMAIRE – I ACKNOWLEDGE YOU."
He paused. "ALAS...YOU HAVE BEEN OUTVOTED."
Rob's fingernails dug into his palms as belated realization dawned on Ismaire. While the Archmage had been laser-focused on Kismet, the BERSERKER had gotten a broader view of the room. He'd seen how Ismaire's unwavering certitude swayed several of the remaining mages to her side, three of them subtly moving towards her the longer she spoke.
He'd also seen how it wasn't enough to reach the last two mages. One of them had quickly gone to stand with Harken's group, hugging their lover's decaying body to their chest, the corpse's hollow, lifeless gaze looking like a dead ringer for their own. The second mage hesitated for a long while, repeatedly glancing between Ismaire and their own deceased loved one...before a flare of outrage alighted on their features. Then they'd moved practically on instinct, blinking with mild surprise when they noticed where they were standing.
Even now, that final mage was exhibiting clear uncertainty. Ismaire's betrayed expression seemed to have struck a chord with them. Given another couple of seconds, they might've actually switched sides.
It didn't matter. Kismet was under no obligation to draw things out.
Harken, Felandril, and three others already made five.
"IT IS DECIDED," he proclaimed.
A god was bound by their word. Kismet would've been forced to back off if a majority of the nine mages rejected the Cataclysm. If these were ordinary circumstances, they undoubtedly would have.
Yet these circumstances were hardly ordinary. Grief, sorrow, anger, despair, fear, dread, peer pressure from a literal god, and Leveling High were saturating the air like toxic fumes. The mages' familiar meeting room had been transformed into a crucible of all the worst emotions a person could feel, eroding their senses of self until only warped reflections were left, as if they were viewing themselves through a funhouse mirror.
It was the most crucial moment in Elatra's history. And during that impossible balancing act, struggling to retain integrity while under siege from the world itself, walking the tightrope of satisfying their baseborn desires or pursuing a moral good that would likely go unrewarded...
...Humanity slipped.
The abyss awaited below.
"LET THE BOARD BE WIPED CLEAN," Kismet continued. "A PURGING FROM SHORE TO SHORE. ALL SHALL–"
"Piss off," Ismaire spat, her three allies gathering around her. "As if I'd share how to perform a mass Soul Burn with you fanatics. Only I am aware of the mechanisms behind the spell, and if necessary, I'll take that knowledge to my grave."
Soft laughter resounded within their minds. "YOU ARE ILL-SUITED FOR DECEPTION, ISMAIRE. WE BOTH KNOW THAT IF I SO DESIRED, I COULD EASILY ABDUCT ONE OF YOUR SUBORDINATE MAGES THAT ASSISTED WITH THE SPELL'S DEVELOPMENT."
The god extended an arm towards Harken. "YET THAT WOULD BE UNNECESSARY. I HAVE OBSERVED YOU CREATURES FOR QUITE SOME TIME. THERE IS NO KNOWLEDGE YOU POSSESS THAT I CANNOT RECREATE."
An orb of pulsating light emerged from Kismet's hand and drifted towards Harken. He accepted the boon with maniacally reverent joy.
"So that's how...yes, I see now..." The mage's mouth split wide as arcane wisdom infused his thoughts. "We are monsters. Monsters are mana. Mana flows. No need to go searching. Just follow the flow...like connected threads. It's all right there."
Ignorant or uncaring of the terror his murmuring inspired, he turned to face Ismaire. "My condolences for your son," Harken said, appearing wholly genuine as he bowed his head. "He was a good man who deserved better."
"Don't do this," she begged. "This doesn't have to be the end."
Her plea was rebuffed by a small, contented smile. "The end has already come." Harken lifted his arms skyward. "This?"
Mana gathered in his palms. "This is just the curtain falling."
Plumes of fire race towards him – only to slam against a conjured shield. It bent, yet did not break. Ismaire growled as her ambush failed, the Archmage forced to conjure a shield of her own as Harken's allies retaliated with slicing blades of wind.
In spite of everything, Rob allowed himself to feel a sliver of wonderment as he witnessed a high-Level mage duel unfold before his eyes. Harken was busy doing...something, which left four spellcasters on each side, all of them committed to their chosen path and wielding the power to back it up. Holding nothing in reserve, both factions clashed with unrestrained ferocity, as if existence itself was hanging on the edge of a knife.
Which it was.
Rob unconsciously stepped back as the air became a blender of elemental devastation. Fire scorched, water drowned, wind sliced, and thunder fell. The mages alternated between crushing offense and ironclad defense, only allowing their mana shields to drop when firing off some flavor of spell that would have turned a weaker opponent into bite-sized chunks. With a sound resembling a tree thrown into a wood chipper, the large conference table was obliterated in seconds, reduced to splinters just from collateral damage alone.
The battle was as breathtaking as it was short, lasting ten seconds at most. Ismaire's side had the clear advantage. Only Felandril came close to matching her prowess, and his faction was diverting some of their attention towards protecting Harken. Bit-by-bit, they were losing ground, some sporting grievous wounds from shields put up a split-second too late. They wouldn't have been able to endure for much longer.
Not that they needed to. Their goal hadn't been to win – just to stall for time.
"I FEEL THEM!" Countless threads of mana shot forth from Harken's body. There were so many that they overlapped into one solid mass of incandescent, eye-searing light. "I FEEL THEM ALL!"
Ismaire cursed as four thin lines of death raced at her group. She made a hand gesture, and the threads wilted like cut strings, their effect canceled. Her counter-spell did nothing to prevent the rest of the threads from flying outwards, piercing through walls and heading off to places far in the distance.
Out of options, the Archmage launched a swift counteroffensive, her plumes of fire stopped once more by another conjured shield. This time, however, the shield didn't bend. It didn't even show the slightest bit of stress, holding steady like an unassailable wall.
A wall empowered with greater mana than any number of mages could produce.
Harken's four allies were the first to drop. Felandril died with an awestruck expression on his face, body tumbling to the ground as his Soul was Burnt to fuel the pyre. More and more threads faded as distant lives were consumed, snuffed out in an instant, never knowing why this fate had befallen them. Stolen mana condensed around Harken, swelling rapidly with each passing second, so painfully bright that its aura outshone Kismet's avatar.
The might of four high-Level mages assaulted him in tandem. They put nearly all of their remaining MP into a decisive ending blow, creating destructive magic akin to a localized hurricane. It was a last-ditch effort borne of their ardent, soul-deep desire to save as many people as they could.
Harken's shielding blocked it with contemptuous ease.
He didn't need allies to protect him anymore.
A continuous roaring noise thrummed in Rob's ears. The condensed, stolen mana was still growing, its very presence warping the surrounding area, almost like a collapsing star. Even with his weak Sense Mana, the spell felt unfathomably powerful to him. If he combined all the mana he'd seen and sensed in Elatra thus far, it wouldn't have amounted to a trifling fragment of the anomaly shaping inside this one room.
By now, Harken had ceased speaking. Perhaps he no longer could. Although he'd discarded his humanity well before this moment, now the mage's appearance matched his twisted psyche, flesh morphing as he became a living vector for the Cataclysm itself. On and on his power grew, taking lives and souls as nourishment.
Until nothing was left to take.
Rob watched, stunned by an indescribable emotion as the last of the threads silently faded. There was no fitting sound to mark the death knell of an entire civilization. No great cry of anguish to express the inconceivable loss of life that had just occurred within less than a minute. There was only a thrumming roar of mana, the Cataclysm gorged to bursting, ready to send forth its power and crack Elatra like an egg.
Ismaire's body trembled, and not because of the almighty pressure bearing down upon her. She knew what the threads' disappearance meant. Her knees threatened to buckle as the enormity of her failure slammed into the Archmage like a tsunami; an overwhelming realization stacked on top of the dead son laying just inches away.
Rob wouldn't have blamed her if she went to pieces right then and there. He waited on tenterhooks for the moment she would break.
That moment never came. Instead, with her people gone, her loved ones slain, her dreams shattered, her hope extinguished, and her purpose in life ripped asunder...
She stood, bearing it all.
Ismaire exchanged wordless glances with her allies. They nodded, seeming resigned. Rob interpreted it as acceptance of their failure – up until when three threads extended towards them from the Archmage.
"Thank you for your sacrifice," she whispered, as the mages fell. Mana suffusing her, she raised her arms one final time. "I vow to use it wisely."
Compared to the inexorable mass of the Cataclysm, rife with stolen souls and mana from the barrier between worlds, Ismaire's energy was a drop in the bucket. She fully knew that. A battle of raw power would end in her immediate defeat.
Yet where the hammer would fail...a scalpel might suffice.
Ismaire gathered her mana. As she did, a multitude of emotions passed through her expression, so many that Rob couldn't catch them all. He saw regret. Remorse. Reminiscence. And chief among them, far stronger than any other:
Resolve.
"Soul Burn."
With those two words, the last Human perished.
Ismaire's mana combined with that of her allies. As she fell unmoving to the floor, the spell she'd cast played out its given duty. Rather than an elemental attack, it fashioned itself into a razor-thin line of energy, shooting forward like an arrow. Her spell collided with Harken's nigh-impenetrable shield, focusing all of its force onto a tiny, singular point of impact.
The future of millions was contained in that one moment.
As the Cataclysm prepared to unleash, Rob heard a faint crack. His Heightened Senses barely managed to perceive the instant that Ismaire's spell carved an infinitesimally small hole in the shield barring its path.
The spell had much less trouble carving a hole through Harken's skull. As if it was a bullet from a sniper rifle, the line of energy shot forth and bounced around inside his misshapen head, shredding what remained of the man's flesh-and-blood brain.
Everyone froze. Rob. Duran. Kismet. Even the Cataclysm came to a halt, its energies leaking, then destabilizing. The inexorable mass of power drained from apocalyptic to merely astronomical. Without a sentient mind in the driver's seat, it couldn't retain itself into one cohesive form.
Yet just as Ismaire's spell completed after her passing...this was no different.
Sense Mana screeched a warning. Before the Cataclysm could fully dissipate, the spell's condensed energies exploded, colossal rays of mana blasting upwards into the sky.
Within a fraction of a nanosecond, Rob's vision was filled by an all-encompassing light.
--
He awoke on the cold Deadlands soil.
The vision had ended.
Rob laid there for a time, rendered motionless by physical and emotional whiplash. After the frenetic lunacy of his Attunement flashback, the Deadlands' barren, empty quiet nearly felt disarming. Like teleporting from a bustling city street to a morgue. Processing everything he'd just witnessed...might take a while.
Evidently, Duran thought the same. Both of them sat in silence, the gods' Beacon in the distance serving as their only company.
Time passed. A few minutes turned into twenty. Putting their thoughts in order became a trial on par with fighting a horde of Blightspawn. Rob almost didn't want to open his mouth, as if doing so would break some spell that had been cast upon them.
However, no silence lasts forever. Eventually, the Elder spoke up, his voice hoarse and raw. "It...wasn't what I'd anticipated."
Rob turned to face him. "What did you anticipate?" he asked, curiously.
"That they'd all be like Harken. Mad with anguish and having given themselves over to Leveling High. The prevailing public opinion claims that Humans, to a man, sought vengeance. But to learn that some of them opposed the Cataclysm..." He averted his gaze, staring at the ground. "It seems so obvious now."
"There was no one around to tell their side of the story. Not surprised that most Cataclysm survivors would assume the worst."
Duran nervously rubbed his hands together, guilt eating away at his composure. "Ismaire's people were already gone," he blurted out.
It took Rob a second to understand what the non-sequitur was referring to. "You mean after the Cataclysm was formed?"
"Yes." The Elder sagged. "Humanity had perished by then. There was naught to save. Yet...Ismaire still spent her last moments defending enemy territories from total annihilation. Her and three others, no less. Without their final gambit, slaying Harken and weakening the Cataclysm, that abominable spell would have left not a single survivor in the entirety of Elatra."
He clenched his fists. "All for the sake of a world that denied their existence."
"Honestly?" Rob hesitated, then opted for full disclosure. "I get it. Most normal people had nothing to do with what happened to Humanity. I would've done the same thing as Ismaire's group. Also would've flipped off the world as I saved it, but, yeah. I think those last moments were the one thing they didn't regret."
Duran didn't quite know how to respond to that. After maybe fifteen seconds of contemplation, the Elder closed his eyes. "I should have done more," he said, echoing one of Ismaire's statements. "I'd visited Human territory on multiple occasions. Made acquaintances of several people there. I knew the Dragon Queen's edict was horrific, a violation, wrong – and with that knowledge, changed nothing. I should have done so much more."
Probably, was Rob's kneejerk thought. It was quickly overwritten by his desire to not see Duran looking so depressed. "Going against Ragnavi would've put a target on your back, right?" he hazarded. "Sticking your neck out like that isn't easy when–"
"No, Rob." Duran opened his eyes and shook his head. "The gesture is appreciated, but no. I can't brush aside these thoughts, especially after everything we just saw. It would be a disservice to their memory." He sighed. "If it's alright with you, I need time to sort out the disarray within my mind."
Rob couldn't argue with that. Still, he tried one parting comment, hoping to leave the Elder on a more positive note. "Of course. And...I think it's good that we saw everything. Means someone remembers. We can carry that piece of history into the future."
Duran's expression brightened slightly, which Rob counted as a win. He'd meant what he said, too – even if watching what happened back then was practically soul-crushing. Without the Skills' Attunement vision, Ismaire's final moments would have been lost under the destructive shadow of the Cataclysm.
And they were definitely moments worth of remembrance. Few things resonated with Rob more than people defying the hand that fate had dealt them. He couldn't have asked for better inspiration to keep fighting. If that was why the Skills decided to show him the end of Humanity, then he would've wholeheartedly accepted that reason.
It was almost a shame that he knew otherwise.
While remembering the past was important, the Skills were on a mission to free themselves. They couldn't afford to expend massive amounts of Influence on sentimentality alone. Their reason for conjuring a lengthy Attunement vision must have been both vital and pragmatic, designed strictly to further their goals.
Rob was 100% sure of that – because he'd already figured out why. Past-Kismet clued him in partway through the vision.
'I simply possess too much power for you to spurn', Rob quoted. His hand twitched towards his longsword. Eight years later, and the fucker didn't even bother changing his script.
Kismet had used that exact same line right before the Attunement vision appeared. His argument made to Rob in the present...was also made to the nine mages in the past.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Rob felt absolutely livid – and worst of all, only a portion of his anger was directed at Kismet. The rest was aimed straight at himself. I can't believe I was starting to consider a bargain with him. HIM.
*That* was the reason why the Skills conjured their Attunement vision shortly after his conversation with Kismet. They'd observed where his thoughts were trending...and they hadn't liked what they saw.
Imagining that potential future wasn't even difficult, loath as Rob was to admit it. Hypothetically, what if he reached Level 99 and his new Skills didn't seem like they'd be enough to confront the gods? Then Kismet would swoop in with a deal, agreeing to leave Earth alone and spare parts of Elatra in return for Riardin's Rangers backing off. Some people would be sacrificed, but not the people Rob loved most. He'd scream, argue, gnash his teeth – yet for the sake of his friends and family, ultimately take the deal. After all, what was he supposed to do against an unstoppably powerful foe?
The Elatrans probably used similar logic to justify their lack of resistance when Ragnavi press-ganged them into slaughtering Humanity.
It was a mistake they'd made, a mistake the Humans had made, and a mistake Rob came embarrassingly close to making, forgetting everything he'd learned in history class. Dictators don't make good faith deals. People who abuse power can't be appeased, trusted, or reasoned with. Their modus operandi is to cause problems for everyone, suggest a solution that primarily benefits them, then call you unreasonable for not going along with their bullshit. Anything they might offer is a poison pill, guaranteed to bite you in the ass sooner or later.
Kismet's meeting with the nine mages was a prime example of that. Leveling High was the root cause of much of Humanity's woes. It was a big factor in why the war spiraled out of control. Naturally, the god had taken zero responsibility for creating their race with an inborn curse. He'd then proceeded to destroy their morale by debunking Project Socius in the cruelest way possible, then acted like they'd be fools for not listening to him when he offered alternative 'solutions'.
Which in retrospect, seemed designed to draw attention away from Humanity's actual solutions. Project Socius may have been a bust, but that was just one option. They could've fought harder to get the Dwarves on their side, devised new schemes to assassinate Ragnavi, or returned to the Fiends and begged for more aid. While those chances of success were low, they were still a *chance*. Even Felandril's idea of sacrificing half the population to attack Ragnavi was better than completely throwing in the towel.
Except throwing in the towel was exactly what Kismet wanted them to do. From the very beginning, he'd manipulated their encounter to push them towards that choice.
If only Ismaire had noticed that earlier, then maybe she could've persuaded more mages to her side before it was too late.
I wonder, Rob mused. How would Kismet have stacked the deck against me? That seems to be his shtick. He sets up a game, rigs it, then belittles the participants for not somehow winning anyway, judging them at their lowest point. As if a person's true self is only revealed within the deepest pits of despair.
He peered skyward, his eyes set with unwavering determination. I reject that, and I reject you. People should be allowed to live their best life without gods and despots screwing things up. No matter what you offer me, I won't stop fighting until every last trace of your existence has been expunged from these worlds.
At that moment, a system notification popped into view.
Null Skill Learned!
...What the heck was a Null Skill? Mystified, Rob checked his Character Sheet for more details.
Name: A Dialogue Prerequisite: Description: Never forget your rage. Cooldown:
That was all.
He attempted to activate the Skill. Nothing happened. He didn't sense any latent power from it, either. The Skill was just a one-sentence Description.
...No. A dialogue. With the Skills – plural.
They'd found a way to communicate. In a limited capacity, at least.
Although their first correspondence was...an interesting choice. 'Never forget your rage' had been another line that Kismet told the mages in order to push them towards the Cataclysm. If Rob wanted to interpret the message in that sense, then the Skills were reminding him that rage was a volatile emotion which often impaired judgement. It could easily lead a person astray – especially when combined with Leveling High. Harken and Felandril were proof of that.
But he could also interpret the message as never neglecting his rage. Despite how it could lead someone down the path to ruin, rage was a necessary emotion. It was the opposite of complacency; without it, injustices would go unaddressed. Change only ever came about when people got mad enough to fight for it.
That was going to be his job moving forward, Rob realized. Sure, the Durans and Diplomacies of the world recommend caution and compromise. Much of the time, they'd probably be right. Yet someone needed to be at the forefront of getting fucking pissed over the unfairness of it all. Someone needed to be there to call out leaders when they abused their power. Someone needed to be ready to fight the world if it was just plain wrong.
The voice of the downtrodden couldn't be soft and unassuming. It had to be loud, aggressive, and relentless. And if that was his role?
Rob's mouth widened into a savage grin. If that was his role – to channel his rage for the betterment of others – then he gladly accepted it.
A BERSERKER should aspire to no less.
--
Thanks for reading!
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2023.12.03 18:06 E_streak The entire history of the Connecticut Witch Trials because why not (Part 3)
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The Owl House has to be one of the best shows that has come out from the Disney Channel ever. Not only does the show's crew, led by Dana Terrace, give us a glimpse into a magical and creative world, we also get to know a whole cast of unforgettable characters that compliment both each other and the world around them. But do you know what my favourite part of the Owl House is? It's Lumity of course! They are just so cute together and deserve all the happiness and I think the mods are gone let's talk about witch trials
Unlike the trials at Salem, which ended once members of the elite class started being implicated, the trials in Connecticut ended primarily through the actions of a few rational individuals. The unsung heroes in New England history, I believe that their actions should be better known.
John Winthrop Jr.
John Winthrop Jr has quickly become my favourite person in history. Like his father, John Winthrop Sr, who was Governor of Massachusetts, he quickly got involved in New England politics. In 1635, he helped settle Saybrook colony at the mouth of the Connecticut river and became governor there. In 1636, amid rising tensions with the Indians, he helped negotiate a settlement between the Pequots and the English at Saybrook. However, these would eventually fall through, resulting in the Pequot War. He was present on the court in Massachusetts for the witch trial of Margaret Jones in 1648, which ended in her execution, the second ever in New England. I imagine that this result did not sit well with Winthrop, based on his later actions.
Nevertheless, Winthrop was a charming individual and an excellent diplomat. He used his influence to drive progress in New England, creating the first integrated ironworks on the continent, as well as a grist mill in Connecticut (which still stands to this day). Winthrop was also a man of science, notably alchemy, owning New England's most extensive library of alchemical books. He even started an organisation dedicated to its study. Winthrop was also talented physician, treating people from all over Connecticut using a whole manner of strange concoctions. He was very successful in this profession, treating at least 500 people across Connecticut (the population was only about 5000). Winthrop's popularity as a politician, entrepreneur and physician even led to a bidding war between New Haven and Hartford for Winthrop's residency, offering ammenities like furnished housing, free transportation and free goods.
But for the purposes of our story, Winthrop's most important aspect was that he was a foremost expert on the occult and probably the most knowledgeable person about this subject on the continent. His stance on witchcraft was one of skepticism. While he believed that magic existed, he never assumed it as a cause for misfortune, believing instead that alternative explanations existed. Winthrop's knowledge and attitudes towards the occult would shape the course of the witch trials, and eventually helped bring them to a conclusion.
Winthrop was elected Governor of Connecticut Colony in 1657, a role in which he was successful enough to be re-elected every year from 1659 to 1676. Using his influence as governor and chief magistrate, he made it incredibly difficult to convict on charges of witchcraft. He used his knowledge of the occult to refute supernatural claims in court, allowing accused witches to go free. He pursued a policy of reintegration, advising free witches to either "carry neighbourly and peaceably" or to get out of the colony. Because of Winthrop, between 1655 and 1661, every accused witch in Connecticut was acquitted. A lot of people were appalled that tried witches were allowed to remain in their communities. But while Winthrop was in office, there was nothing anyone could do.
That was until 1661, when Winthrop set sail for England to obtain a royal charter for Connecticut Colony. His task was to negotiate with an unsympathetic Charles II, who was displeased that the colonies were harbouring some of his father's killers. While Winthrop was busy trying to charm the King of England, all hell broke loose in Hartford. Its residents were itching to get rid of witches within the community, resulting in the explosive Hartford Witch Panic in 1662.
Winthrop arrived back in Connecticut in 1663 after a wildly successful mission. While in England, he had been elected a Fellow of the newly formed Royal Society for his work on alchemy. He had also brought over one of the first astronomical telescopes in New England which he would later use to study Jupiter's moons. But most importantly, he had managed to gain Connecticut a royal charter. This charter not only granted Connecticut permission to exist, but also gave the colonists extra rights, expanded the powers of the office of governor, and provided ridiculous territorial gains which made Connecticut very long. Imagine his shock upon discovering the disaster that had happened while he was gone. Four innocent people had been hanged, many others had fled and left everything behind. Connecticut was in a terrible state, and something had to change.
Elizabeth Seager
Out of the remaining accused witches, Elizabeth Seager had an especially rough time. In 1663, others like Judith Varlett and James Wakely were able to escape conviction and had fled to other colonies. Elizabeth, however, stayed in Hartford. Out of all the Connecticut witches, Seager was tried the greatest number of times, having to defend herself thrice from 1663 to 1665.
Unlike many in Hartford, Seager was skeptical of Ann Cole's witchcraft accusations, and of the ministers taking her outbursts seriously. When Ann accused her of witchcraft, Seager was quick to call all of it "a great deal of hodge podge." Nevertheless, in order to smooth over her reputation, Seager sent her daughter to the home of Thomas and Goody Hosmer, neighbours of the Coles, with a gift of parsnips. This goodwill gesture was flatly rejected since Thomas Hosmer did not want to associate himself or his wife with a potential witch.
In an event corroborated by multiple parties in court, shortly after this incident, Seager "went to prayer, and did adventure to bid Satan to tell them, she was no witch." When asked why she prayed for Satan to exonerate her and not for God, Seager said it was "because Satan knew she was no witch,” citing a bible passage that implied that only Jesus and St Paul can understand demons. She was suggesting that the ministers had no spiritual authority to confront or understand Ann's demon.
Thanks in part to her own sharp tongue, Seager was indicted in January 1663, the same day as Mary Barnes. Shortly after, Rebecca Greensmith implicated many accused witches, including Seager. Others testified against her in court, including her neighbour Robert Sterne, who claimed he had witnessed her at a witch's Sabbat:
More evidence was laid against Seager. Goodwife Mygatt testified that Seager had blasphemed, claiming that Seager had told her that "God was Naught, God was Naught, it was very good to be a witch and desired her to be one. She should not need fear going to hell, for she should not burn in the fire." Mygatt also claimed that, in an example of spectral evidence, Seager's apparition "took her by the hand and struck her on the face as she was in bed with her husband."
It was just before this second trial that John Winthrop Jr. came back to Connecticut colony, horrified by what had happened. Given his powerful position and stark opposition to convicting accused witches, it isn't a stretch to suggest that he would have intervened in Seager's case. According to Connecticut State Historian Walter Woodward:
But the accusers of Hartford were not satisfied. In one last attempt to get rid of Seager (who had inexplicably not fled Hartford yet), the court indicted her for "continuing to practice witchcraft" in 1665. Evidence was collected from the previous trials, as well as from new testimonies. Goodwife Watson claimed that Seager had once admitted to being part of a coven of witches but refused to reveal any of them. Goodwife Garrett further testified that Seager had once made a bewitched cheese that was full of maggots, which Garrett then threw into a fire, upon which Seager to cried out in pain while outside in the barn.
Governor Winthrop was put into a tough position. He had already expended a lot of political capital while preventing Seager's execution during her second trial. As chief magistrate, he could have presided over the court and refuted every bit of evidence presented, but doing this would have laid suspicion onto him as a witch sympathiser. Given that he was a publicly known alchemist, such accusations against him would have been dangerous. Instead, Winthrop stayed away from the trial and let it play out on its own, but not without a plan.
The jury convicted Seager of witchcraft and sentenced her to death. Shortly after this moment, Winthrop acted. He declared that Seager's trial was "so obscure and ambiguous" that he would put off carrying out her sentence. Winthrop then waited for the royal charter's judicial reforms to take effect, which gave the governor, the deputy governor, and magistrates the right to “impose, alter, change or annul any penalty, and to punish, release or pardon any offender." In May 1666, a special Court of Assistants, under Governor Winthrop, was called for the first time and declared that:
Katherine Harrison
While this is the last witch trial I shall be covering, there was still one more big witch hunt in Connecticut. The Fairfield Witch Panic of 1692 happened partially as a result of spillover from Salem, and all cases resulted in acquittals. However, talking about it here would require introducing even more characters at the last minute, which would just add extra bloat. And given the Harrison case's significance in judicial history, I feel that it would be a good place to stop.
To the people of Wethersfield, Katherine Harrison was the perfect target for witch hunting. Initially working as a servant in Captain Cullick's house in Hartford, she was fired for telling the fortunes her fellow servants. Katherine then moved to Wethersfield where she married the town crier, John Harrison. They were a very successful couple, and together they accumulated a small fortune through farming and by trading goods. In 1666, John Harrison died, leaving Katherine and her three daughters with an estate of over 900 pounds. Katherine's sudden increase in social status, in addition to her outspoken and impudent nature, may have sparked resentment among the community of Wethersfield. Additionally, Katherine was a well-known folk healer, and used occult techniques to cure her neighbours' ailments, with limited success. In one case, a sick child that she had used her methods on did not recover and eventually died. It should be no surprise that Katherine Harrison was one of the most hated people in Wethersfield.
Trouble started a few years after her husband's death. In 1668, accusations of witchcraft began to pile up against Katherine. In summer, a neighbour accused her of slander, and she was made to pay damages. In October, Katherine filed a complaint to the court for vandalism against her property. She testified that over a few weeks, people had beaten her cows and oxen to unserviceability, cut off the ear marks from her livestock and replaced them, killed one of her cows with a "knife or some weapon", let loose some horses to graze on her wheat field, wounded Katherine's horse in the pasture, and spoiled a batch of hops by cutting them from her field. It is unclear whether the court even considered these grievances.
Harrison stood trial for witchcraft between 1668 and 1669. This involved a mixture of a few suits against her, but I won't go into detail here. During that time, about 30 witnesses gave testimony against her. Of course, I won't go through all of it here, but I will summarise a few that I find interesting. In the words of John M Taylor, "They speak for themselves".
The residents of Wethersfield were furious at Winthrop's court, who they saw as being too soft on witchcraft. A petition was signed by 38 residents, including 2 ministers, in protest of Harrison's release. They alleged that since her release, "very evle, hurtfull and dangerous effects" had befallen residents of Wethersfield, and that these incidents should be considered new evidence. They also noted that Harrison was preparing to flee Wethersfield and escape justice. They demanded that Harrison take a trial by swimming, which she had offered to do in court. The petitioners concluded that Winthrop's magistrates were ineffective in prosecuting the case. Instead, they argued for their own choice of prosecution, which included their leader John Blackleach, to replace the current prosecution for a satisfactory result.
Winthrop was stuck in a tough position once again. And just like in Elizabeth Seager's case, he stepped back from the courtroom and let it play out. When the jury reconvened, it found Katherine Harrison guilty and sentenced her to death. But Winthrop had one last card to play, which would end the bloodshed in Connecticut once and for all. His magistrates challenged the decision of the jury, since the case rested on some fundamental, but yet unanswered questions that needed clarification. Until those questions were answered, Harrison would be held in prison with her fate hanging in the balance.
Gershom Bulkeley
The court sent these questions to the top ministers of Connecticut. This group was led, not by Samuel Stone who had died in 1663, but by Winthrop's friend and fellow alchemist, Reverend Gershom Bulkeley. Like Winthrop, Bulkeley had an interest in the occult and was opposed to convicting witches. In fact, Bulkeley would later become a major player in the 1692 trials in Fairfield, helping to save many accused witches there. For now, with his theological knowledge as a minister, and with Winthrop's influence, Bulkeley crafted the perfect response to the court's questions.
The first question was:
The second question was:
While it looks like Bulkeley is supporting spectral evidence, in practice this wipes out most spectral evidence ever used. It implies that someone's spectre appearing to a single witness could just as easily be the devil causing mischief by imitating an innocent person. Therefore spectral evidence is only admissible if a person's spectre appears to multiple people. This, of course, never happens, and so more evidence of witchcraft is thrown out. In his answer, Bulkeley both confirms the validity of spectral evidence, while making it impossible to use in court.
The last question was:
Notice how broad the categories of human skill and strength of reason are. People during this time would have seen natural, or folk, magic as an acceptable practice. It could be argued that discovering secrets or telling fortunes through these occult methods may constitute human skill and strength of reason. Bulkeley's wording here deflects the crime of witchcraft away from fortune tellers like Harrison, and from occultists like himself and Winthrop. As long as the accused does not admit to contacting the devil, they may have used acceptable practices. Bulkley has both confirmed the devil's hand in certain forms of fortune telling, but at the same time made those forms so specific that it becomes practically impossible to prove.
With those questions answered, the court hearing Harrison's case reconvened and overturned the jury's verdict. In May 1670, she was referred to a special Court of Assistants who, upon considering Bulkeley's answers, ordered her to be freed, but also removed from Wethersfield for her own safety and for the contentment of her neighbours. Unfortunately, Harrison would always have the reputation of being a witch, and even had complaints filed against her long after moving to New York.
But after this case, the dangers of being accused as a witch subsided. The changes to the system made by Bulkeley and Winthrop would put a permanent and almost unbeatable obstacle before the colony's obsession with convicting witches. There would not be another witch trial in Connecticut for another twenty-two years. When the trials finally started again in 1692, none of those cases would end with an execution. It was through the hard work and level heads of people like John Winthrop Jr and Gershom Bulkeley, as well as the incredible resilience of people like Elizabeth Seager and Katherine Harrison that the hysteria finally ended.
R.G. Tomlinson, Witchcraft Trials of Connecticut: The First Comprehensive, Documented History of Witchcraft Trials in Colonial Connecticut
Richard S. Ross, Before Salem: Witch Hunting in the Connecticut River Valley
Cynthia W. Boynton, Connecticut Witch Trials: The First Panic in the New World
John M. Taylor, The Witchcraft Delusion In Colonial Connecticut
Books and Articles that Cover Specific Topics
Walter W. Woodward, Prospero's America: John Winthrop Jr., Alchemy, and the Creation of New England Culture
Liam Connell, University of Melbourne, ‘A Great or Notorious Liar’: Katherine Harrison and her Neighbours, Wethersfield, Connecticut, 1668 – 1670
Walter W. Woodward, OAH Magazine of History, The Trial of Katherine Harrison
Aaron J. Whiting, To Hang a Witch: Religion and Paranoia in Seventeenth Century Hartford
YouTube Videos by Great Channels
Esoterica, The American Witch Trials Before Salem - Witches & Witch Hunting in Colonial North America
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ky86E-Zu8bI
Atun-Shei Films, In Defense of Puritanism
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJanv1NUlrQ
submitted by E_streak to TheOwlHouse [link] [comments]
The Owl House has to be one of the best shows that has come out from the Disney Channel ever. Not only does the show's crew, led by Dana Terrace, give us a glimpse into a magical and creative world, we also get to know a whole cast of unforgettable characters that compliment both each other and the world around them. But do you know what my favourite part of the Owl House is? It's Lumity of course! They are just so cute together and deserve all the happiness and I think the mods are gone let's talk about witch trials
Level Heads
Coming out of 1663, Connecticut had experienced its most chaotic witch hunt to date. But conspicuously, the trials in Connecticut following this time seemed to just drop off. There would be more no witch trials in the state for a quarter century, and there would be no further executions. So what happened?Unlike the trials at Salem, which ended once members of the elite class started being implicated, the trials in Connecticut ended primarily through the actions of a few rational individuals. The unsung heroes in New England history, I believe that their actions should be better known.
John Winthrop Jr.
John Winthrop Jr has quickly become my favourite person in history. Like his father, John Winthrop Sr, who was Governor of Massachusetts, he quickly got involved in New England politics. In 1635, he helped settle Saybrook colony at the mouth of the Connecticut river and became governor there. In 1636, amid rising tensions with the Indians, he helped negotiate a settlement between the Pequots and the English at Saybrook. However, these would eventually fall through, resulting in the Pequot War. He was present on the court in Massachusetts for the witch trial of Margaret Jones in 1648, which ended in her execution, the second ever in New England. I imagine that this result did not sit well with Winthrop, based on his later actions.
Nevertheless, Winthrop was a charming individual and an excellent diplomat. He used his influence to drive progress in New England, creating the first integrated ironworks on the continent, as well as a grist mill in Connecticut (which still stands to this day). Winthrop was also a man of science, notably alchemy, owning New England's most extensive library of alchemical books. He even started an organisation dedicated to its study. Winthrop was also talented physician, treating people from all over Connecticut using a whole manner of strange concoctions. He was very successful in this profession, treating at least 500 people across Connecticut (the population was only about 5000). Winthrop's popularity as a politician, entrepreneur and physician even led to a bidding war between New Haven and Hartford for Winthrop's residency, offering ammenities like furnished housing, free transportation and free goods.
But for the purposes of our story, Winthrop's most important aspect was that he was a foremost expert on the occult and probably the most knowledgeable person about this subject on the continent. His stance on witchcraft was one of skepticism. While he believed that magic existed, he never assumed it as a cause for misfortune, believing instead that alternative explanations existed. Winthrop's knowledge and attitudes towards the occult would shape the course of the witch trials, and eventually helped bring them to a conclusion.
Winthrop was elected Governor of Connecticut Colony in 1657, a role in which he was successful enough to be re-elected every year from 1659 to 1676. Using his influence as governor and chief magistrate, he made it incredibly difficult to convict on charges of witchcraft. He used his knowledge of the occult to refute supernatural claims in court, allowing accused witches to go free. He pursued a policy of reintegration, advising free witches to either "carry neighbourly and peaceably" or to get out of the colony. Because of Winthrop, between 1655 and 1661, every accused witch in Connecticut was acquitted. A lot of people were appalled that tried witches were allowed to remain in their communities. But while Winthrop was in office, there was nothing anyone could do.
That was until 1661, when Winthrop set sail for England to obtain a royal charter for Connecticut Colony. His task was to negotiate with an unsympathetic Charles II, who was displeased that the colonies were harbouring some of his father's killers. While Winthrop was busy trying to charm the King of England, all hell broke loose in Hartford. Its residents were itching to get rid of witches within the community, resulting in the explosive Hartford Witch Panic in 1662.
Winthrop arrived back in Connecticut in 1663 after a wildly successful mission. While in England, he had been elected a Fellow of the newly formed Royal Society for his work on alchemy. He had also brought over one of the first astronomical telescopes in New England which he would later use to study Jupiter's moons. But most importantly, he had managed to gain Connecticut a royal charter. This charter not only granted Connecticut permission to exist, but also gave the colonists extra rights, expanded the powers of the office of governor, and provided ridiculous territorial gains which made Connecticut very long. Imagine his shock upon discovering the disaster that had happened while he was gone. Four innocent people had been hanged, many others had fled and left everything behind. Connecticut was in a terrible state, and something had to change.
Elizabeth Seager
Out of the remaining accused witches, Elizabeth Seager had an especially rough time. In 1663, others like Judith Varlett and James Wakely were able to escape conviction and had fled to other colonies. Elizabeth, however, stayed in Hartford. Out of all the Connecticut witches, Seager was tried the greatest number of times, having to defend herself thrice from 1663 to 1665.
Unlike many in Hartford, Seager was skeptical of Ann Cole's witchcraft accusations, and of the ministers taking her outbursts seriously. When Ann accused her of witchcraft, Seager was quick to call all of it "a great deal of hodge podge." Nevertheless, in order to smooth over her reputation, Seager sent her daughter to the home of Thomas and Goody Hosmer, neighbours of the Coles, with a gift of parsnips. This goodwill gesture was flatly rejected since Thomas Hosmer did not want to associate himself or his wife with a potential witch.
In an event corroborated by multiple parties in court, shortly after this incident, Seager "went to prayer, and did adventure to bid Satan to tell them, she was no witch." When asked why she prayed for Satan to exonerate her and not for God, Seager said it was "because Satan knew she was no witch,” citing a bible passage that implied that only Jesus and St Paul can understand demons. She was suggesting that the ministers had no spiritual authority to confront or understand Ann's demon.
Thanks in part to her own sharp tongue, Seager was indicted in January 1663, the same day as Mary Barnes. Shortly after, Rebecca Greensmith implicated many accused witches, including Seager. Others testified against her in court, including her neighbour Robert Sterne, who claimed he had witnessed her at a witch's Sabbat:
"I saw this woman, Goodwife Seager, in the woods with three more women, and with them I saw two black creatures like two Indians but taller. I saw likewise a kettle there over a fire. I saw the women dance round these black creatures, and whiles I looked upon them, one of the women, Goody Greensmith, said 'look who is yonder.' And then they ran away up the hill. I stood still and the black things came towards me, and then I turned to come away. ... I knew the persons by their habits or clothes, having observed such clothes on them not long before."During this trial, William Edwards, a relative of Ann Cole, claimed that he had seen Elizabeth Seager fly. From Goodwife Garrett's testimony in a later trial:
"William Edwards told Goodwife Seager that she did fly ... Seager replied that William Edwards made her fly. Then Goodwife Garrett said, 'then you own that you did fly.' Then Goodwife Seager replied, 'if I did fly, William Edwards made me fly.'"A trial by swimming was brought up, which Seager rebuked by questioning its efficacy. She claimed that the devil would make her float regardless of her guilt, saying:
"The devil that caused me to come here can keep me up!"Remarkably, although the result was close, the jury found her not guilty on the basis of insufficient evidence. This caused outrage in Hartford, and she was tried again for witchcraft that same year, along with charges of blasphemy and adultery.
More evidence was laid against Seager. Goodwife Mygatt testified that Seager had blasphemed, claiming that Seager had told her that "God was Naught, God was Naught, it was very good to be a witch and desired her to be one. She should not need fear going to hell, for she should not burn in the fire." Mygatt also claimed that, in an example of spectral evidence, Seager's apparition "took her by the hand and struck her on the face as she was in bed with her husband."
It was just before this second trial that John Winthrop Jr. came back to Connecticut colony, horrified by what had happened. Given his powerful position and stark opposition to convicting accused witches, it isn't a stretch to suggest that he would have intervened in Seager's case. According to Connecticut State Historian Walter Woodward:
"Considering the adulation that had accompanied his return to Hartford ... Winthrop might easily have been able to defuse the accusations of witchcraft. More likely a compromise was arranged with his fellow assistants and pressed on an intractable jury."In the end, the jury found Seager not guilty for blasphemy or witchcraft, but she was still convicted of adultery. Although adultery was a capital offence according to the colony's laws, there have been no examples of a death penalty ever being imposed. Although Seager had escaped death once again, she was likely whipped for the adultery charge.
But the accusers of Hartford were not satisfied. In one last attempt to get rid of Seager (who had inexplicably not fled Hartford yet), the court indicted her for "continuing to practice witchcraft" in 1665. Evidence was collected from the previous trials, as well as from new testimonies. Goodwife Watson claimed that Seager had once admitted to being part of a coven of witches but refused to reveal any of them. Goodwife Garrett further testified that Seager had once made a bewitched cheese that was full of maggots, which Garrett then threw into a fire, upon which Seager to cried out in pain while outside in the barn.
Governor Winthrop was put into a tough position. He had already expended a lot of political capital while preventing Seager's execution during her second trial. As chief magistrate, he could have presided over the court and refuted every bit of evidence presented, but doing this would have laid suspicion onto him as a witch sympathiser. Given that he was a publicly known alchemist, such accusations against him would have been dangerous. Instead, Winthrop stayed away from the trial and let it play out on its own, but not without a plan.
The jury convicted Seager of witchcraft and sentenced her to death. Shortly after this moment, Winthrop acted. He declared that Seager's trial was "so obscure and ambiguous" that he would put off carrying out her sentence. Winthrop then waited for the royal charter's judicial reforms to take effect, which gave the governor, the deputy governor, and magistrates the right to “impose, alter, change or annul any penalty, and to punish, release or pardon any offender." In May 1666, a special Court of Assistants, under Governor Winthrop, was called for the first time and declared that:
"Respecting Elizabeth Seager, this court, on reviewing the verdict of the jury and finding it doth not legally answer the indictment do therefore discharge and set her free from further suffering or imprisonment."Walter Woodward notes the significance of this: “for the first time in Connecticut’s history, a convicted witch did not die.” A few years after being freed, Elizabeth Seager finally took the hint and moved to Rhode Island with her family. However, the trials in Connecticut were not done yet.
Katherine Harrison
While this is the last witch trial I shall be covering, there was still one more big witch hunt in Connecticut. The Fairfield Witch Panic of 1692 happened partially as a result of spillover from Salem, and all cases resulted in acquittals. However, talking about it here would require introducing even more characters at the last minute, which would just add extra bloat. And given the Harrison case's significance in judicial history, I feel that it would be a good place to stop.
To the people of Wethersfield, Katherine Harrison was the perfect target for witch hunting. Initially working as a servant in Captain Cullick's house in Hartford, she was fired for telling the fortunes her fellow servants. Katherine then moved to Wethersfield where she married the town crier, John Harrison. They were a very successful couple, and together they accumulated a small fortune through farming and by trading goods. In 1666, John Harrison died, leaving Katherine and her three daughters with an estate of over 900 pounds. Katherine's sudden increase in social status, in addition to her outspoken and impudent nature, may have sparked resentment among the community of Wethersfield. Additionally, Katherine was a well-known folk healer, and used occult techniques to cure her neighbours' ailments, with limited success. In one case, a sick child that she had used her methods on did not recover and eventually died. It should be no surprise that Katherine Harrison was one of the most hated people in Wethersfield.
Trouble started a few years after her husband's death. In 1668, accusations of witchcraft began to pile up against Katherine. In summer, a neighbour accused her of slander, and she was made to pay damages. In October, Katherine filed a complaint to the court for vandalism against her property. She testified that over a few weeks, people had beaten her cows and oxen to unserviceability, cut off the ear marks from her livestock and replaced them, killed one of her cows with a "knife or some weapon", let loose some horses to graze on her wheat field, wounded Katherine's horse in the pasture, and spoiled a batch of hops by cutting them from her field. It is unclear whether the court even considered these grievances.
Harrison stood trial for witchcraft between 1668 and 1669. This involved a mixture of a few suits against her, but I won't go into detail here. During that time, about 30 witnesses gave testimony against her. Of course, I won't go through all of it here, but I will summarise a few that I find interesting. In the words of John M Taylor, "They speak for themselves".
- Testimony of Thomas Bracy:
- After Bracy refused to lend a saddle to James Wakely (another accused witch), he began to have unexplainable trouble at work. He sewed on the sleaves of a jacket the wrong way seven times, and he accidentally cut cloth of different colours for one pair of breeches.
- Bracy was watching a cart of hay pass by when he saw a red calf's head, with its ear standing up, sitting on top of the hay. As the cart came closer, the calf's head vanished and in its place was Katherine Harrison.
- After Bracy was threatened by Harrison for spreading rumours that she was a witch, James Wakely and Harrison appeared to him that night. After deliberating on how to kill Bracy, they strangled and pinched him until his father-in-law heard his groaning and woke him up. In the morning, they found a mark on his skin where the pinching was.
- Testimony of Joseph Dickinson:
- While Dickinson was walking in a dry swamp with Philip Smith, they heard Katherine Harrison's voice cry strangely, "Hoccanum! Hoccanum! Come Hoccanum!" They later found Samuel Belden, who told them that he had seen Katherine with her cows running home, tail on end, and with great violence.
- Testimony of Rebecca Smith:
- Katherine Harrison wanted to buy Goody Gilbert's black hat, but Gilbert refused. Later, whenever Gilbert wore the hat, "her shoulders and head was much afflicted". Gilbert then burned the hat, believing it to be bewitched.
- Smith believed herself to be bewitched, having episodes where her leg would suddenly become stiff, she would be dreadfully sick, and she would have strange fits. She said that her family could testify to this.
- Testimony of Mary Hale
- While in bed, a dog-like creature jumped violently onto her legs and rest itself very heavily upon her chest, crushing her. Upon closer examination, she saw that the creature had Katherine Harrison's face. It then wandered around the room before disappearing.
- The creature came back a few nights later, and in the darkness, Mary felt its face and judged it to be a woman's face. She then felt a painful blow to her fingers, later discovering that they had become black and blue with bruises.
- A few nights later, Mary heard Katherine Harrison's voice speak to her. She threatened to make Mary afraid. When Mary replied that she was not afraid, believing God would protect her, Mary was "crushed and oppressed". She called to her parents who were sleeping nearby, but Harrison's voice told her that they would not hear anything until she was gone. Before the voice left, she threatened Mary to keep this encounter secret, or else she will afflict her again. Mary testified that she told this story many times since.
- Testimony of Goodwife Johnson
- Goody Johnson's husband, Jacob, was hired by John Harrison to go to Windsor with a canoe for a meal. While lying in bed at night in Windsor, Jacob felt a great blow to his ears, and came home ill. Katherine Harrison came to treat him with "diet drink and plasters".
- They sent for Captain Atwood for help, but that day when Goody Johnson opened the door, she saw the likeness of Katherine Harrison looking right at her husband. As she turned around to lock the door, Harrison vanished. Then Jacob's nose began to bleed heavily, and it continued to do so whenever it was disturbed, up until his death.
The residents of Wethersfield were furious at Winthrop's court, who they saw as being too soft on witchcraft. A petition was signed by 38 residents, including 2 ministers, in protest of Harrison's release. They alleged that since her release, "very evle, hurtfull and dangerous effects" had befallen residents of Wethersfield, and that these incidents should be considered new evidence. They also noted that Harrison was preparing to flee Wethersfield and escape justice. They demanded that Harrison take a trial by swimming, which she had offered to do in court. The petitioners concluded that Winthrop's magistrates were ineffective in prosecuting the case. Instead, they argued for their own choice of prosecution, which included their leader John Blackleach, to replace the current prosecution for a satisfactory result.
Winthrop was stuck in a tough position once again. And just like in Elizabeth Seager's case, he stepped back from the courtroom and let it play out. When the jury reconvened, it found Katherine Harrison guilty and sentenced her to death. But Winthrop had one last card to play, which would end the bloodshed in Connecticut once and for all. His magistrates challenged the decision of the jury, since the case rested on some fundamental, but yet unanswered questions that needed clarification. Until those questions were answered, Harrison would be held in prison with her fate hanging in the balance.
Gershom Bulkeley
The court sent these questions to the top ministers of Connecticut. This group was led, not by Samuel Stone who had died in 1663, but by Winthrop's friend and fellow alchemist, Reverend Gershom Bulkeley. Like Winthrop, Bulkeley had an interest in the occult and was opposed to convicting witches. In fact, Bulkeley would later become a major player in the 1692 trials in Fairfield, helping to save many accused witches there. For now, with his theological knowledge as a minister, and with Winthrop's influence, Bulkeley crafted the perfect response to the court's questions.
The first question was:
"whether [in the case of witchcraft] a plurality of witnesses be necessary, legally to evidence one and the same individual fact?"Bulkeley answers that in order for a testimony to be considered legal evidence for a captial crime, at least two people would have to testify to the same individual fact. If a witness testifies to something that only they saw, it cannot be counted as evidence of witchcraft. This distinction alone invalidates most of the evidence presented in every witchcraft case.
The second question was:
"whether the preternatural apparitions of a person, legally proved, be a demonstration of familiarity with the devil?"In other words, is spectral evidence proof of the someone working with the devil? Bulkeley answers this ambiguously, but in essence he says that the devil can appear as an innocent person in front of a single witness, but can't appear as an innocent person in front of multiple witnesses. Therefore, if a person's apparition appears to multiple witnesses, then the person must have given the devil their permission to use their likeness, and therefore they were not innocent.
While it looks like Bulkeley is supporting spectral evidence, in practice this wipes out most spectral evidence ever used. It implies that someone's spectre appearing to a single witness could just as easily be the devil causing mischief by imitating an innocent person. Therefore spectral evidence is only admissible if a person's spectre appears to multiple people. This, of course, never happens, and so more evidence of witchcraft is thrown out. In his answer, Bulkeley both confirms the validity of spectral evidence, while making it impossible to use in court.
The last question was:
"whether a vicious person foretelling some future event, or revealing of a secret, be a demonstration of familiarity with the devil?"In other words, is predicting the future or revealing secrets evidence of witchcraft? Bulkeley answers that if someone gains secret or future knowledge in a way that cannot be done through human skill, strength of reason, or through divine revelation, then the knowledge must have been gained through the devil.
Notice how broad the categories of human skill and strength of reason are. People during this time would have seen natural, or folk, magic as an acceptable practice. It could be argued that discovering secrets or telling fortunes through these occult methods may constitute human skill and strength of reason. Bulkeley's wording here deflects the crime of witchcraft away from fortune tellers like Harrison, and from occultists like himself and Winthrop. As long as the accused does not admit to contacting the devil, they may have used acceptable practices. Bulkley has both confirmed the devil's hand in certain forms of fortune telling, but at the same time made those forms so specific that it becomes practically impossible to prove.
With those questions answered, the court hearing Harrison's case reconvened and overturned the jury's verdict. In May 1670, she was referred to a special Court of Assistants who, upon considering Bulkeley's answers, ordered her to be freed, but also removed from Wethersfield for her own safety and for the contentment of her neighbours. Unfortunately, Harrison would always have the reputation of being a witch, and even had complaints filed against her long after moving to New York.
But after this case, the dangers of being accused as a witch subsided. The changes to the system made by Bulkeley and Winthrop would put a permanent and almost unbeatable obstacle before the colony's obsession with convicting witches. There would not be another witch trial in Connecticut for another twenty-two years. When the trials finally started again in 1692, none of those cases would end with an execution. It was through the hard work and level heads of people like John Winthrop Jr and Gershom Bulkeley, as well as the incredible resilience of people like Elizabeth Seager and Katherine Harrison that the hysteria finally ended.
Sources
Books that Cover the Connecticut Trials in General:R.G. Tomlinson, Witchcraft Trials of Connecticut: The First Comprehensive, Documented History of Witchcraft Trials in Colonial Connecticut
Richard S. Ross, Before Salem: Witch Hunting in the Connecticut River Valley
Cynthia W. Boynton, Connecticut Witch Trials: The First Panic in the New World
John M. Taylor, The Witchcraft Delusion In Colonial Connecticut
Books and Articles that Cover Specific Topics
Walter W. Woodward, Prospero's America: John Winthrop Jr., Alchemy, and the Creation of New England Culture
Liam Connell, University of Melbourne, ‘A Great or Notorious Liar’: Katherine Harrison and her Neighbours, Wethersfield, Connecticut, 1668 – 1670
Walter W. Woodward, OAH Magazine of History, The Trial of Katherine Harrison
Aaron J. Whiting, To Hang a Witch: Religion and Paranoia in Seventeenth Century Hartford
YouTube Videos by Great Channels
Esoterica, The American Witch Trials Before Salem - Witches & Witch Hunting in Colonial North America
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ky86E-Zu8bI
Atun-Shei Films, In Defense of Puritanism
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJanv1NUlrQ
2023.10.12 23:51 Perpetvum "The quest of a king becomes his moth"
I'm looking at Levine on the Deir 'Alla Plaster Inscriptions. They have this odd translation, "The quest of a king (mlk) becomes his moth". This phrase is even better than "the inheritance of hedgehogs"! An epigraph for the ages. It follows some unfortunately unreadable bits around child sacrifice. The papers I'm finding don't seem to engage with the child sacrifice part. If they did, they'd mention the possibility of mlk referring to a sacrifice instead of a king. But, the quest of a sacrifice becoming a moth (or horse) doesn't make much sense either. I'm wondering if anyone has thoughts, or papers, more brightening than those I hold. I'm surprised I'm not finding more papers; Deir 'Alla is intriguing at least. Rewinding to the first combination, we have Balaam emotionally overcome, then telling the people that the "gods have joined forces, 19) and the Shadday-gods have established a council." The idea of that syncretic point, frozen in plaster, is alluring. The gods (perhaps gods of certain mountains, "shaddai") establishing their council. I'm sure there's no way to understand Balaam without this. Less seismic is the mention of how "El [satisfies] himself with lovemaking," but the addition of sex rounds out the Deir 'Alla Balaam story's spectrum of scandal. Following are the lines attendant to Death seizing the infant. The asterisk on line 31 is my own; I think the l is quite ambiguous.
submitted by Perpetvum to AcademicBiblical [link] [comments]
27) The corpse moans in his heart!
28) He moans [ ]
29) [ ] a daughter(?)
30) There, kings shall behold Bal[aam?].
31) There is no* compassion when Death seizes an
*Or: there is
32) And an infant [ ]
33) An infant [ ]
34) There [ ] shall endure.
35) The heart of the corpse is desolate,
36) As he approaches [Sheol].
37) [ ]
38) To the edge of She[ol].
39) And the shadow of the hedge.
40) The quest of a king becomes his “moth,”
41) And the quest of [ ]
42) [ ]
43) [ ] and [ ] seers.
Lines 40-49: This section returns to the theme, introduced in lines
13-14, of the denial of powers to the one addressed. In line 40, ssh
could mean: "his horse" (Hoftijzer), but, given the context, perhaps
ssh can be related to the hapax sds "moth," in Isa. 5 1:8. The sense is
that the desires even of kings come to naught with their death. In line
44, mk "from you" is a variant of mnk > mink, on the model of the
plural, mikken, etc. in Hebrew. In line 47, we have what is the
second stiche of a couplet. The one addressed is told that he will not
have the skill to interpret oracles to his people. In context, dbr,
Hebrew ddbar is to be taken technically, as: "oracle"(Jer. 18:18, etc.).
The idiom 'I I~n uses the preposition '1(='aI) to mean: "on account
of" (cf. Jer. 6:19, 9:11, 12, etc. and Amos 1:3, passim, Ps. 5:8, 119:36,
Job 16:7). LEVINE: DEIR 'ALLA PLASTER INSCRIP P 203 JAOS 101.2 1981 or: LEVINE: IN PURSUIT OF MEANING P 133 https://www.worldcat.org/title/884552224
2023.08.22 22:01 khares_koures2002 The languages of Britain, part 1: the anglosaxon language
I usually post maps about alternate history scenaria on imaginarymaps. One of these scenaria begins in 870 A.D., and, among other things, shows a different Britain. Here I will post about the native languages of this alternate Britain. Sorry if the text is too lengthy.
Part 1: the anglosaxon language
The anglosaxon language (angelsauxische spreche) is a western germanic language in the indo-european language family, spoken by about 232 million people as a first language, and has a total number of speakers (both native and learned) of around 1.3 billion. It is the third most natively spoken language in the world, after Lusitanian (324 million native speakers) and Northern Han Chinese (642 million native speakers). Its biggest number of native speakers is concentrated in the Kingdom of Anglosaxony (58 million speakers), the Republic of Ireland (5.2 million speakers), the Dominion of New Wessex (12 million speakers), the Republic of New Kent (80 million speakers), the Federation of Ladysland (50 million speakers), the Dominion of New Southern Wales (2 million speakers), the Republic of the Mississippi (6.3 million speakers), the Republic of New Jutland (3.1 million speakers), the Australian Federation (9 million speakers), the Dominion of Woodmansland (600 thousand speakers), the Dominion of New Cornwall (2.2 million speakers), and the Dominion of Southern Libya (3.6 million speakers).
The anglosaxon language originally developed as a collection of North Sea western germanic dialects, transported to Britain from northwestern Europe, starting from the 5th century A.D. The Angles, Saxons, and Jutes gradually conquered most of Britain, except for some western parts (that formed the Roman Kingdom of Britannia), and northern Britain. The conversion to Christianity brought the Anglosaxons to the cultural sphere of the resurgent Western Roman Empire, while the Viking Invasions of the 9th century gave many norse loanwords to the anglosaxon language (and a norse-descended language has been spoken in the region of Eeverwich ever since). At this point, the anglosaxon linguistic space is divided into several dialects, which in the following centuries are grouped into northern (to which the scottish language is related), central (a greatly reduced mercian dialect), and southern. One of the most known texts of this period is “Beowulf”.
Middle Anglosaxon
Contact with the Norse, as well as centralisation under the Kingdom of Wessex from the late 9th century onwards, starts simplifying the anglosaxon language. The beginning of Middle Anglosaxon is conventionally placed in 1100 A.D., and during this century texts show a clearly simplified grammar, with a slow entrance of a few loanwords from Gallonorman, due to contact with Norman sailors in southern Britain. The language’s orthography is still quite vague sometimes, and each region has some orthographic differences, present in texts of various matters. At this point, a separate language, based on Northumbrian Anglosaxon, begins developing in Scotland.
Example of middle anglosaxon text, imitating 14th century Anglosaxon:
Aan frogge biþ a smaal deerling ƿiþ foƿre scancas, hƿilc liveþ baaþ in ƿatere and an lande. It cann been bruun, oþer green, oþer gelƿe, oþer, hƿann tropisc, it mag haven manigfolde farvas. It haþ longen and gillen baaþe. It hacceþ fraam aan eg, and þann it is genamed as “tadpolle”. It groƿeþ to been aan frogge, gif it þann ne biþ noht eten.
A frog is a small animal with four legs, which lives both in water and on land. It can be brown, or green, or yellow, or, when tropical, it may have diverse colours. It has both lungs and gills. It hatches from an egg, and then it is called a “tadpole”. It grows to be a frog, if it is not eaten then.
Modern Anglosaxon
The continuing unity of Anglosaxony gives birth to a standard dialect, based on the dialect of Lunden, a process traditionally placed to around 1450. This is helped by the invention of the typewriter, but, since many typists are from continental Europe, the orthography is changed somewhat. Meanwhile, many greek and latin loanwords enter the anglosaxon language, as fascination with philosophy and the sciences grows. Geopolitical circumstances drive Anglosaxony away from Catholicism and into the new wave of “grundist” doctrines, especially after the Anglosaxon Civil War (1630-1642), when the new king broke relations with the Papacy. This era also sees Anglosaxony starting the colonisation of Erixonia, Oceania, Libya, and India, with various results. In the next centuries, Anglosaxon becomes one of the most popular languages in the world.
Most anglosaxon dialects have the same consonants, but some dialects are a bit more divergent, and have some slight variations. In Britain, the most characteristic example is the pronunciation of the word for “church”. The Lunden Standard Pronunciation is /t͡ʃi: t͡ʃə/ (written “chirche” - note that southern dialects sometimes pronounce the [r] as /ɹ/, a schwa, or none at all, and from these dialects sprang most dialects spoken in the colonies). The Midlands see a change in this pronunciation, and some dialects like that of Liverpool say /xirxə/ (written “ghirghe”) or some variation of that. In the North and Scotland we see the other end of the ch-gh-k spectrum, and the pronunciation shifts to /kirkə/ or some variation of that, written “circe” or “kirke”.
Another major consonantal variation is seen in some dialects or creoles spoken by descendants of Libyan slaves. Many of these dialects pronounce /θ/ and /ð/ as /t/ and /d/. For example, in some more isolated Ladyslander varieties, the verb “to think” (thinchen) is pronounced /'tin.t͡ʃa/ (contrasted to /'θin.t͡ʃən/, of more standard varieties), and thøy (the second person singular pronoun in the nominative) is pronounced /dy:/ (contrasted to /ðøy/ or /ðø:/, of more standard varieties).
Generally, anglosaxon consonants are the following in the Standard Lunden Pronunciation:
/b/ /d/ /g/
/p/ /t/ /k/ (/k/ is only before and after back vowels)
/f/ /θ/ /x/ /h/ /ç/ (the last one exists as an allophone of /x/ after /i/)
/v/ /ð/
/s/ /ʃ/ /z/ /ʒ/ (the latter two exist mostly as allophones of the first two, or in loanwords)
/t͡s/ /d͡z/ (these two exist mostly in loanwords)
/t͡ʃ/ /d͡ʒ/
/m/ /n/ /ŋ/ /l/ /ɫ/ /
/j/ /w/ /ʍ/
Vowels
Due to the great number of dialects, the anglosaxon language has a wide variety of vowels, some of them existing in some dialects while being absent from others. In Britain, the wide difference in vowels is owed to the Great Scottish Vowel Shift, which started in Scotland during the early 14th century, and then began influencing its immediately neighbouring dialects, thus also giving rise to the wider Great Northern Anglosaxon Vowel Shift. Such an example is the word for “one”, which in the South is “aan” (/ɑ:n/), while, the further one moves to the North, it becomes /æ:n/, then /e:n/, and in Scotland it is /εin/ or /eɪn/ (written “ein”). Another interesting sound change is currently happening in anglosaxophone territories in northern Erixonia, where “aan” has started, since the late 19th century, being pronounced as /ɒ:n/, /ɔ:n/, or /ɔɒn/, and some have proposed an orthographical reform that will reflect this pronunciation.
In the Standard Lunden Pronunciation, the vowels are the following:
/a/ /ɑ/
/ε/ /e/ /ə/
/ɪ/ /i/
/o/ /ɔ/ /ø/
/y/
Diphthongs: /øy/ /eɪ/ /εɪ/ /aɪ/ /au/
Anglosaxon verbs have nine tenses: Simple Present (Simpel Presens), Present Continuous (Angaaend Presens), Simple Past (Simpel Forgaan), Past Continuous (Angaaend Forgaan), Future Simple (Simpel Tocomend), Future Continuous (Angaaend Tocomend), Future Perfect (Fulljedan Tocomend), Present Perfect (Fulljedan Presens), and Past Perfect (Fulljedan Forgaan). However, morphological differences exist only between the Present and the Past, the only two tenses directly inherited from Old and Middle Anglosaxon. Also, anglosaxon verbs are classified as either strong (like “ich come” – I come) or weak (ich luve – I love).
Examples of verb inflection:
Strong verbs:
Infinitive: comen
Participle: comend (sng.) – comende (pl.)
Simple Present: ich come – thøy comst – he/sche/it cometh – we comen – jøy comen – hey comen
Present Continuous: ich aum comend – thøy bist comend – he/sche/it is comend – we aren comende – jøy aren comende – hey aren comende
Simple Past: ich came – thøy camst – he/sche/it caam – we camen – jøy camen – hey camen
Past Continuous: ich was comend – thøy warst comend – he/sche/it was comend – we waren comende – jøy waren comende – hey waren comende
Future Simple: ich wille comen – thøy willst comen – he/sche/it willeth comen – we willen comen – jøy willen comen – hey willen comen
Future Continuous: ich wille been comend – thøy willst been comend – he/sche/it willeth been comend – we willen been comende – jøy willen been comende – hey willen been comende
Future Perfect: ich wille been jecomen – thøy willst been jecomen – he/sche/it willeth been jecomen – we willen been jecomen – jøy willen been jecomen – hey willen been jecomen
Present Perfect: ich aum jecomen – thøy bist jecomen – he/sche/it is jecomen – we aren jecomen – jøy aren jecomen – hey aren jecomen
Past Perfect: ich was jecomen – thøy warst jecomen – he/sche/it was jecomen – we waren jecomen – jøy waren jecomen – hey waren jecomen
Note that verbs of movement or existence take the verb “been” (to be) in past forms.
Weak verbs:
Infinitive: luven
Participle: luvend (sng.) – luvende (pl.)
Simple Present: ich luve – thøy luvest – he/sche/it luveth – we luven – jøy luven – hey luven
Present Continuous: ich aum luvend – thøy bist luvend he/sche/it is luvend – we aren luvende – jøy aren luvende – hey aren luvende
Simple Past: ich luvede – thøy luvdest – he/sche/it luvde – we luvden – jøy luvden – hey luvden
Past Continuous: ich was luvend – thøy warst luvend – he/sche/it was luvend – we waren luvende – jøy waren luvende – hey waren luvende
Future Simple: ich wille luven – thøy willst luven – he/sche/it willeth luven – we willen luven – jøy willen luven – hey willen luven
Future Continuous: ich wille been luvend – thøy willst been luvend – he/sche/it willeth been luvend – we willen been luvende – jøy willen been luvende – hey willen been luvende
Future Perfect: ich wille haven jeluved – thøy willst haven jeluved – he/sche/it willeth haven jeluved – we willen haven jeluved – jøy willen haven jeluved – hey willen haven jeluved
Present Perfect: ich have jeluved – thøy hast jeluved – he/sche/it hath jeluved – we haven jeluved – jøy haven jeluved – hey haven jeluved
Past Perfect: ich hadde jeluved – thøy haddest jeluved – he/sche/it hadde jeluved – we hadden jeluved – jøy hadden jeluved – hey hadden jeluved
Verbs can also take periphrastic hypothetical forms, like “ich wollde” (I would) or “ich culde” (I could) + infinitive.
The imperative is formed by writing the verb in the second singular or plural form, and then joining it, with a hyphen, with “thøy” or “jøy”. Examples: comest-thøy/comen-jøy, luvest-thøy/luven-jøy. The exception is the verb “been” (to be), which is “wees-thøy / weesen-jøy”.
Another feature of anglosaxon verbs are the phrasal verbs (periphrastische verben), like “ingaan” (to go in), “øytbringen” (to bring out), bijstanden (to stand by, to wait), and øytsprechen (to pronounce, to say one’s opinion). Examples:
The mann wende in to the høys. (The man went into the house)
Mijne mother braghte øyt the eppele. (My mother brought out the apples)
The hund staade bij his majster. (The dog stood by his master)
The stedes thejn spraghte øyt at the stedmoot. (The mayor of the city said his opinion at the city council)
Nouns:
Anglosaxon nouns have been greatly simplified since the time of Old Anglosaxon. The only surviving definite article is “the” for all three grammatical genders (masculine, feminine, neuter), and most cases have been replaced by prepositions, except for a rarely used genitive (the mann – thes mannes, the wijf – thes wijfs, the child – thes childes).
As in many other germanic languages, in anglosaxon the plural is formed by adding –(e)n to the noun, and shifting the main part of the noun to conform to this change.
Examples: the mann – the menne, the grund – the grynde, the høys – the hijse, the gaas – the geese, the moot – the meete
It should also be noted that plural forms, if joined with a preposition, will most of the time end in –en, as an oversimplified remnant of the old oblique cases.
Examples: to the mann – to the mennen, an the grund – an the grynden, in to the høys – in to the hijsen, foor the gaas – foor the geesen, after the moot – after the meeten
Following this, one can also understand that the indefinite article (aan, aane) and the demonstratives (this, thisses / theese, af theesen – that, af that / thaas, af thaas) function similarly.
Adjectives:
Adjectives agree with nouns in gender, case, and number.
Examples:
1) the auld mann – thes auldes mannes
the ealde menn – af the ealden mennen
2) the hard grund – thes hardes grundes
the herde grynde – af the herden grynden
3) the fajr høys – thes fajres høyses
the fejre hijse – af the fejren hijsen
4) the wilde gaas – thes wildes gaases
the wilden geese – af the wilden geesen
5) the wightlich moot – thes wightliches mootes
the wightliche meete – af the wightlichen meeten
When compared, adjectives are modified as follows:
auld – ealder / maar auld – ealdest / maast auld
hard – herder / maar hard – herdest / maast hard
fajr – fejrer / maar fajr – fejrest / maast fajr
wild – wilder / maar wild – wildest / maast wild
wightlich – wightlicher / maar wightlich – wightlicste / maast wightlich
Irregular comparatives:
good – better / maar good – best / maast good
yvel – wers / maar yvel – werst / maast yvel
mychel – maar – mast
littel – less – lest
Pronouns:
Again, anglosaxon pronouns have a greatly simplified case system, and mostly use prepositions.
Examples:
1) Nominative: ich – thøy – he/sche/it – we – jøy – hey
2) Genitive: mijn(e) / af meech – thijn(e) / af theech – his(e) / af him / schers(e) / af scher / its(e) / af it – urs(e) / af øys – jurs(e) / af jeech – hers(e) / af hem
3) Accusative and Dative: meech – theech – him/scheit – øys – jeech – hem
In some dialects, one can also see “jølle / af jølle”, instead of “jøy / af jeech”.
Concerning interrogative pronouns (hwaa -who- and hwat – what), they are as follows:
1) Nominative: hwaa – hwat
2) Genitive: hwaas
3) Accusative and dative: hwaam (for “hwat” one can also use “hwilch”, meaning “which”)
Other interrogative pronouns are hwether (whether – used for dilemmata) and hwilch (which).
Syntax:
Anglosaxon sentences have a Subject-Verb-Object structure for affirmative and negative sentences, and for some interrogative ones. Verb-Subject-Object and Subject-Object-Verb are used mostly in poetry.
Examples of simple sentences:
Affirmative:
The wulf aat the scheepen. (The wolf ate the sheep)
The wulf: Subject
aat: Verb
the scheepen: Object
Negative:
Ich wende to mijn haam naught. (I did not go home)
Ich: Subject
wende naught: Verb
to mijn haam: Prepositional directional phrase
Interrogative:
1) Thøy bist at haam? (You are at home?)
Thøy: Subject
bist: Verb
at haam: Prepositional local phrase
2) Bist thøy at haam? (Are you at home?)
Here, the analysis is the same as before.
Subordinate clauses:
Unlike the other western germanic languages (except for Anglish), the anglosaxon language (and also Scots and related dialects) does not place the verb in the final position in subordinate clauses.
Example: Mijne mother tollde meech, that the mercaat is jeëppned. (My mother told me that the market is open)
Subordinate clauses can begin with a hw-word, when they are relative clauses.
Examples:
Ich wache øyp, hwann morjen cometh. (I wake up, when morning comes)
Mijn father gaath naught, hweer naane berje aren. (My father does not go, where no mountains exist)
Johannes cneewe naught, hwij his mother was angrij. (John didn’t know why his mother was angry)
The mann, hwaam ich moote jesterdaj, is mijn fatherlich fyrst fethersson. (The man, whom I met yesterday, is my paternal first cousin)
Adverbs:
Besides prepositions, the anglosaxon language also uses adverbs to express manner, place, time, frequency, and certainty, or to modify other parts of speech.
Examples:
Manner: haaghlich (highly), løydlich (loudly), cyninglich (kingly)
Place: heer (here), theer (there), els-hweer (elsewhere)
Time: jesterdaj (yesterday), tomorje (tomorrow), nøy (now)
Frequency: oft (often), never (never), alltijd (always)
Certainty: sicherlich (surely), untwijvellich/indubitable (undoubtedly)
Modification of adjectives: saarlich haagh (very high), aan bit løyd (a bit loud)
Modification of noun phrases: basicalisch alle thinge (basically everything)
Modification of prepositional phrases: (Mijne mother wende) allmaast to aane othere scola [(My mother went) almost to another school]
Modification of sentences: Opensightlich, the Sunne hath jesetteled (Obviously, the Sun has set)
Bb: Be
Cc: Ce (/ke/)
Dd: De
Ee: E
Ff: Ef
Gg: Ge
Hh: Ha
Ii: I
Jj: Joot
Kk (mostly in loanwords): Ka
Ll: El
Mm: Em
Nn: En
Oo: O
Pp: Pe
Qq: Cu
Rr: Er
Ss: Es
Tt: Te
Uu: U
Vv: Ve
Ww: We
Xx: Ecs
Yy: Ypsilon
Zz: Zed
Anglosaxon letters are read mostly as written, with the exception being only some loanwords. Also, there are a few digraphs, of which the most occurring are the following: au (/au/), aa (/ɑ:/), ee (/e:/), eë (used to differentiate syllables), ea (/ε:/), ij (/eɪ/), ej (/εɪ/), aj (/aɪ/), øy (/øy/), th (/θ/ or /ð/), ch (/t͡ʃ/), gj (/d͡ʒ/), gh (/x/), hw (/ʍ/), and tz (/t͡s/).
All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience, and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.
Now, in case you were brave (or foolish) enough to continue all the way down to the end, ask me any questions you want.
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Part 1: the anglosaxon language
The anglosaxon language (angelsauxische spreche) is a western germanic language in the indo-european language family, spoken by about 232 million people as a first language, and has a total number of speakers (both native and learned) of around 1.3 billion. It is the third most natively spoken language in the world, after Lusitanian (324 million native speakers) and Northern Han Chinese (642 million native speakers). Its biggest number of native speakers is concentrated in the Kingdom of Anglosaxony (58 million speakers), the Republic of Ireland (5.2 million speakers), the Dominion of New Wessex (12 million speakers), the Republic of New Kent (80 million speakers), the Federation of Ladysland (50 million speakers), the Dominion of New Southern Wales (2 million speakers), the Republic of the Mississippi (6.3 million speakers), the Republic of New Jutland (3.1 million speakers), the Australian Federation (9 million speakers), the Dominion of Woodmansland (600 thousand speakers), the Dominion of New Cornwall (2.2 million speakers), and the Dominion of Southern Libya (3.6 million speakers).
HISTORY
Old AnglosaxonThe anglosaxon language originally developed as a collection of North Sea western germanic dialects, transported to Britain from northwestern Europe, starting from the 5th century A.D. The Angles, Saxons, and Jutes gradually conquered most of Britain, except for some western parts (that formed the Roman Kingdom of Britannia), and northern Britain. The conversion to Christianity brought the Anglosaxons to the cultural sphere of the resurgent Western Roman Empire, while the Viking Invasions of the 9th century gave many norse loanwords to the anglosaxon language (and a norse-descended language has been spoken in the region of Eeverwich ever since). At this point, the anglosaxon linguistic space is divided into several dialects, which in the following centuries are grouped into northern (to which the scottish language is related), central (a greatly reduced mercian dialect), and southern. One of the most known texts of this period is “Beowulf”.
Middle Anglosaxon
Contact with the Norse, as well as centralisation under the Kingdom of Wessex from the late 9th century onwards, starts simplifying the anglosaxon language. The beginning of Middle Anglosaxon is conventionally placed in 1100 A.D., and during this century texts show a clearly simplified grammar, with a slow entrance of a few loanwords from Gallonorman, due to contact with Norman sailors in southern Britain. The language’s orthography is still quite vague sometimes, and each region has some orthographic differences, present in texts of various matters. At this point, a separate language, based on Northumbrian Anglosaxon, begins developing in Scotland.
Example of middle anglosaxon text, imitating 14th century Anglosaxon:
Aan frogge biþ a smaal deerling ƿiþ foƿre scancas, hƿilc liveþ baaþ in ƿatere and an lande. It cann been bruun, oþer green, oþer gelƿe, oþer, hƿann tropisc, it mag haven manigfolde farvas. It haþ longen and gillen baaþe. It hacceþ fraam aan eg, and þann it is genamed as “tadpolle”. It groƿeþ to been aan frogge, gif it þann ne biþ noht eten.
A frog is a small animal with four legs, which lives both in water and on land. It can be brown, or green, or yellow, or, when tropical, it may have diverse colours. It has both lungs and gills. It hatches from an egg, and then it is called a “tadpole”. It grows to be a frog, if it is not eaten then.
Modern Anglosaxon
The continuing unity of Anglosaxony gives birth to a standard dialect, based on the dialect of Lunden, a process traditionally placed to around 1450. This is helped by the invention of the typewriter, but, since many typists are from continental Europe, the orthography is changed somewhat. Meanwhile, many greek and latin loanwords enter the anglosaxon language, as fascination with philosophy and the sciences grows. Geopolitical circumstances drive Anglosaxony away from Catholicism and into the new wave of “grundist” doctrines, especially after the Anglosaxon Civil War (1630-1642), when the new king broke relations with the Papacy. This era also sees Anglosaxony starting the colonisation of Erixonia, Oceania, Libya, and India, with various results. In the next centuries, Anglosaxon becomes one of the most popular languages in the world.
PHONOLOGY
ConsonantsMost anglosaxon dialects have the same consonants, but some dialects are a bit more divergent, and have some slight variations. In Britain, the most characteristic example is the pronunciation of the word for “church”. The Lunden Standard Pronunciation is /t͡ʃi: t͡ʃə/ (written “chirche” - note that southern dialects sometimes pronounce the [r] as /ɹ/, a schwa, or none at all, and from these dialects sprang most dialects spoken in the colonies). The Midlands see a change in this pronunciation, and some dialects like that of Liverpool say /xirxə/ (written “ghirghe”) or some variation of that. In the North and Scotland we see the other end of the ch-gh-k spectrum, and the pronunciation shifts to /kirkə/ or some variation of that, written “circe” or “kirke”.
Another major consonantal variation is seen in some dialects or creoles spoken by descendants of Libyan slaves. Many of these dialects pronounce /θ/ and /ð/ as /t/ and /d/. For example, in some more isolated Ladyslander varieties, the verb “to think” (thinchen) is pronounced /'tin.t͡ʃa/ (contrasted to /'θin.t͡ʃən/, of more standard varieties), and thøy (the second person singular pronoun in the nominative) is pronounced /dy:/ (contrasted to /ðøy/ or /ðø:/, of more standard varieties).
Generally, anglosaxon consonants are the following in the Standard Lunden Pronunciation:
/b/ /d/ /g/
/p/ /t/ /k/ (/k/ is only before and after back vowels)
/f/ /θ/ /x/ /h/ /ç/ (the last one exists as an allophone of /x/ after /i/)
/v/ /ð/
/s/ /ʃ/ /z/ /ʒ/ (the latter two exist mostly as allophones of the first two, or in loanwords)
/t͡s/ /d͡z/ (these two exist mostly in loanwords)
/t͡ʃ/ /d͡ʒ/
/m/ /n/ /ŋ/ /l/ /ɫ/ /
/j/ /w/ /ʍ/
Vowels
Due to the great number of dialects, the anglosaxon language has a wide variety of vowels, some of them existing in some dialects while being absent from others. In Britain, the wide difference in vowels is owed to the Great Scottish Vowel Shift, which started in Scotland during the early 14th century, and then began influencing its immediately neighbouring dialects, thus also giving rise to the wider Great Northern Anglosaxon Vowel Shift. Such an example is the word for “one”, which in the South is “aan” (/ɑ:n/), while, the further one moves to the North, it becomes /æ:n/, then /e:n/, and in Scotland it is /εin/ or /eɪn/ (written “ein”). Another interesting sound change is currently happening in anglosaxophone territories in northern Erixonia, where “aan” has started, since the late 19th century, being pronounced as /ɒ:n/, /ɔ:n/, or /ɔɒn/, and some have proposed an orthographical reform that will reflect this pronunciation.
In the Standard Lunden Pronunciation, the vowels are the following:
/a/ /ɑ/
/ε/ /e/ /ə/
/ɪ/ /i/
/o/ /ɔ/ /ø/
/y/
Diphthongs: /øy/ /eɪ/ /εɪ/ /aɪ/ /au/
GRAMMAR
VerbsAnglosaxon verbs have nine tenses: Simple Present (Simpel Presens), Present Continuous (Angaaend Presens), Simple Past (Simpel Forgaan), Past Continuous (Angaaend Forgaan), Future Simple (Simpel Tocomend), Future Continuous (Angaaend Tocomend), Future Perfect (Fulljedan Tocomend), Present Perfect (Fulljedan Presens), and Past Perfect (Fulljedan Forgaan). However, morphological differences exist only between the Present and the Past, the only two tenses directly inherited from Old and Middle Anglosaxon. Also, anglosaxon verbs are classified as either strong (like “ich come” – I come) or weak (ich luve – I love).
Examples of verb inflection:
Strong verbs:
Infinitive: comen
Participle: comend (sng.) – comende (pl.)
Simple Present: ich come – thøy comst – he/sche/it cometh – we comen – jøy comen – hey comen
Present Continuous: ich aum comend – thøy bist comend – he/sche/it is comend – we aren comende – jøy aren comende – hey aren comende
Simple Past: ich came – thøy camst – he/sche/it caam – we camen – jøy camen – hey camen
Past Continuous: ich was comend – thøy warst comend – he/sche/it was comend – we waren comende – jøy waren comende – hey waren comende
Future Simple: ich wille comen – thøy willst comen – he/sche/it willeth comen – we willen comen – jøy willen comen – hey willen comen
Future Continuous: ich wille been comend – thøy willst been comend – he/sche/it willeth been comend – we willen been comende – jøy willen been comende – hey willen been comende
Future Perfect: ich wille been jecomen – thøy willst been jecomen – he/sche/it willeth been jecomen – we willen been jecomen – jøy willen been jecomen – hey willen been jecomen
Present Perfect: ich aum jecomen – thøy bist jecomen – he/sche/it is jecomen – we aren jecomen – jøy aren jecomen – hey aren jecomen
Past Perfect: ich was jecomen – thøy warst jecomen – he/sche/it was jecomen – we waren jecomen – jøy waren jecomen – hey waren jecomen
Note that verbs of movement or existence take the verb “been” (to be) in past forms.
Weak verbs:
Infinitive: luven
Participle: luvend (sng.) – luvende (pl.)
Simple Present: ich luve – thøy luvest – he/sche/it luveth – we luven – jøy luven – hey luven
Present Continuous: ich aum luvend – thøy bist luvend he/sche/it is luvend – we aren luvende – jøy aren luvende – hey aren luvende
Simple Past: ich luvede – thøy luvdest – he/sche/it luvde – we luvden – jøy luvden – hey luvden
Past Continuous: ich was luvend – thøy warst luvend – he/sche/it was luvend – we waren luvende – jøy waren luvende – hey waren luvende
Future Simple: ich wille luven – thøy willst luven – he/sche/it willeth luven – we willen luven – jøy willen luven – hey willen luven
Future Continuous: ich wille been luvend – thøy willst been luvend – he/sche/it willeth been luvend – we willen been luvende – jøy willen been luvende – hey willen been luvende
Future Perfect: ich wille haven jeluved – thøy willst haven jeluved – he/sche/it willeth haven jeluved – we willen haven jeluved – jøy willen haven jeluved – hey willen haven jeluved
Present Perfect: ich have jeluved – thøy hast jeluved – he/sche/it hath jeluved – we haven jeluved – jøy haven jeluved – hey haven jeluved
Past Perfect: ich hadde jeluved – thøy haddest jeluved – he/sche/it hadde jeluved – we hadden jeluved – jøy hadden jeluved – hey hadden jeluved
Verbs can also take periphrastic hypothetical forms, like “ich wollde” (I would) or “ich culde” (I could) + infinitive.
The imperative is formed by writing the verb in the second singular or plural form, and then joining it, with a hyphen, with “thøy” or “jøy”. Examples: comest-thøy/comen-jøy, luvest-thøy/luven-jøy. The exception is the verb “been” (to be), which is “wees-thøy / weesen-jøy”.
Another feature of anglosaxon verbs are the phrasal verbs (periphrastische verben), like “ingaan” (to go in), “øytbringen” (to bring out), bijstanden (to stand by, to wait), and øytsprechen (to pronounce, to say one’s opinion). Examples:
The mann wende in to the høys. (The man went into the house)
Mijne mother braghte øyt the eppele. (My mother brought out the apples)
The hund staade bij his majster. (The dog stood by his master)
The stedes thejn spraghte øyt at the stedmoot. (The mayor of the city said his opinion at the city council)
Nouns:
Anglosaxon nouns have been greatly simplified since the time of Old Anglosaxon. The only surviving definite article is “the” for all three grammatical genders (masculine, feminine, neuter), and most cases have been replaced by prepositions, except for a rarely used genitive (the mann – thes mannes, the wijf – thes wijfs, the child – thes childes).
As in many other germanic languages, in anglosaxon the plural is formed by adding –(e)n to the noun, and shifting the main part of the noun to conform to this change.
Examples: the mann – the menne, the grund – the grynde, the høys – the hijse, the gaas – the geese, the moot – the meete
It should also be noted that plural forms, if joined with a preposition, will most of the time end in –en, as an oversimplified remnant of the old oblique cases.
Examples: to the mann – to the mennen, an the grund – an the grynden, in to the høys – in to the hijsen, foor the gaas – foor the geesen, after the moot – after the meeten
Following this, one can also understand that the indefinite article (aan, aane) and the demonstratives (this, thisses / theese, af theesen – that, af that / thaas, af thaas) function similarly.
Adjectives:
Adjectives agree with nouns in gender, case, and number.
Examples:
1) the auld mann – thes auldes mannes
the ealde menn – af the ealden mennen
2) the hard grund – thes hardes grundes
the herde grynde – af the herden grynden
3) the fajr høys – thes fajres høyses
the fejre hijse – af the fejren hijsen
4) the wilde gaas – thes wildes gaases
the wilden geese – af the wilden geesen
5) the wightlich moot – thes wightliches mootes
the wightliche meete – af the wightlichen meeten
When compared, adjectives are modified as follows:
auld – ealder / maar auld – ealdest / maast auld
hard – herder / maar hard – herdest / maast hard
fajr – fejrer / maar fajr – fejrest / maast fajr
wild – wilder / maar wild – wildest / maast wild
wightlich – wightlicher / maar wightlich – wightlicste / maast wightlich
Irregular comparatives:
good – better / maar good – best / maast good
yvel – wers / maar yvel – werst / maast yvel
mychel – maar – mast
littel – less – lest
Pronouns:
Again, anglosaxon pronouns have a greatly simplified case system, and mostly use prepositions.
Examples:
1) Nominative: ich – thøy – he/sche/it – we – jøy – hey
2) Genitive: mijn(e) / af meech – thijn(e) / af theech – his(e) / af him / schers(e) / af scher / its(e) / af it – urs(e) / af øys – jurs(e) / af jeech – hers(e) / af hem
3) Accusative and Dative: meech – theech – him/scheit – øys – jeech – hem
In some dialects, one can also see “jølle / af jølle”, instead of “jøy / af jeech”.
Concerning interrogative pronouns (hwaa -who- and hwat – what), they are as follows:
1) Nominative: hwaa – hwat
2) Genitive: hwaas
3) Accusative and dative: hwaam (for “hwat” one can also use “hwilch”, meaning “which”)
Other interrogative pronouns are hwether (whether – used for dilemmata) and hwilch (which).
Syntax:
Anglosaxon sentences have a Subject-Verb-Object structure for affirmative and negative sentences, and for some interrogative ones. Verb-Subject-Object and Subject-Object-Verb are used mostly in poetry.
Examples of simple sentences:
Affirmative:
The wulf aat the scheepen. (The wolf ate the sheep)
The wulf: Subject
aat: Verb
the scheepen: Object
Negative:
Ich wende to mijn haam naught. (I did not go home)
Ich: Subject
wende naught: Verb
to mijn haam: Prepositional directional phrase
Interrogative:
1) Thøy bist at haam? (You are at home?)
Thøy: Subject
bist: Verb
at haam: Prepositional local phrase
2) Bist thøy at haam? (Are you at home?)
Here, the analysis is the same as before.
Subordinate clauses:
Unlike the other western germanic languages (except for Anglish), the anglosaxon language (and also Scots and related dialects) does not place the verb in the final position in subordinate clauses.
Example: Mijne mother tollde meech, that the mercaat is jeëppned. (My mother told me that the market is open)
Subordinate clauses can begin with a hw-word, when they are relative clauses.
Examples:
Ich wache øyp, hwann morjen cometh. (I wake up, when morning comes)
Mijn father gaath naught, hweer naane berje aren. (My father does not go, where no mountains exist)
Johannes cneewe naught, hwij his mother was angrij. (John didn’t know why his mother was angry)
The mann, hwaam ich moote jesterdaj, is mijn fatherlich fyrst fethersson. (The man, whom I met yesterday, is my paternal first cousin)
Adverbs:
Besides prepositions, the anglosaxon language also uses adverbs to express manner, place, time, frequency, and certainty, or to modify other parts of speech.
Examples:
Manner: haaghlich (highly), løydlich (loudly), cyninglich (kingly)
Place: heer (here), theer (there), els-hweer (elsewhere)
Time: jesterdaj (yesterday), tomorje (tomorrow), nøy (now)
Frequency: oft (often), never (never), alltijd (always)
Certainty: sicherlich (surely), untwijvellich/indubitable (undoubtedly)
Modification of adjectives: saarlich haagh (very high), aan bit løyd (a bit loud)
Modification of noun phrases: basicalisch alle thinge (basically everything)
Modification of prepositional phrases: (Mijne mother wende) allmaast to aane othere scola [(My mother went) almost to another school]
Modification of sentences: Opensightlich, the Sunne hath jesetteled (Obviously, the Sun has set)
ALPHABET (see “PHONOLOGY”)
Aa: ABb: Be
Cc: Ce (/ke/)
Dd: De
Ee: E
Ff: Ef
Gg: Ge
Hh: Ha
Ii: I
Jj: Joot
Kk (mostly in loanwords): Ka
Ll: El
Mm: Em
Nn: En
Oo: O
Pp: Pe
Qq: Cu
Rr: Er
Ss: Es
Tt: Te
Uu: U
Vv: Ve
Ww: We
Xx: Ecs
Yy: Ypsilon
Zz: Zed
Anglosaxon letters are read mostly as written, with the exception being only some loanwords. Also, there are a few digraphs, of which the most occurring are the following: au (/au/), aa (/ɑ:/), ee (/e:/), eë (used to differentiate syllables), ea (/ε:/), ij (/eɪ/), ej (/εɪ/), aj (/aɪ/), øy (/øy/), th (/θ/ or /ð/), ch (/t͡ʃ/), gj (/d͡ʒ/), gh (/x/), hw (/ʍ/), and tz (/t͡s/).
TEXT SAMPLE
Alle mennliche personae aren jeboren freewe and egale in dignitas and reghte. Hey aren jejevene with ratzionalitas and inwittenhaad, and schulden baren to aan other in aan gaast af brotherhaad.All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience, and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.
Now, in case you were brave (or foolish) enough to continue all the way down to the end, ask me any questions you want.
2023.03.12 17:10 No_Contribution15 Lore (deep dive) : Story of Eochaid and Elemer of the Briar
Tl;dr at the end of the post.
____
Here is my interpretation of Eochaid Lore. It’s a deep-dive that goes through what little we have and links it with a great deal of logical leaps ; and imagination, I must admit... But, I do think it’s mostly sound.
My lore also explains Elemer of the Briar, a topic I saw had great interest with u/fseen thread. This pushed me to release my thoughts on the subject, him and Eochaid being one of my favorite bite-size lore pieces in the game.
For those too pressed to read, and yeah, s*** is long, you’ll find a tl;dr at the end of the post. This allows you to get the theory without missing any key pieces; and you can ofc read the long format for proof or the logical pathways I used to come to my conclusions, without missing too much.
Good read.
Little is known about Eochaid. Two sword, a shield, and a recurring Great Enemy who is said to ail from it, that’s… pretty much it. These are the only items in the game that directly mention it. Taking it as it is, Eochaid - compared to other lore or story fragments – is barely a scratch in the world of Elden Ring, a brief auxiliary tale of one of its lesser kingdoms. However, ever since I happened upon the calm, see breezed, tip-toe bright, colorful-flowers surrounding, green bush wrapping cliff on which you can find the [Regalia of Eochaid], I’ve been fascinated. The sword was just planted there, on the site, with three graves, as some kind of memento. It was such a stark contrast from Caelid and its [Gaol Cave] (which leads you there), coming from an apocalyptic red-blood sky, rust-colored sand, overall desolate land and a burned corpse-ridden prison, that I had to inquire more about it. It was impossible for me not to think of [Regalia of Eochaid]’s placement as unintentional. Since then, I could only think of one thing regarding those graves and the sword, and, of course, its description: events led to this. It was one of the great moments of my playthrough. And I believe it can become a great pocket-moment in the game overall for everyone as well, if sufficient thought is breathed into it; and, of course, if people ascribe to its potential lore…
This post aims to give Eochaid this sufficient thought and lore.
So, using item descriptions, environmental story-telling, logical leaps, as well as a necessary great-deal of suppositions and conjecture, my purpose here is to share my interpretation of Eochaid and its place in the world; my aim is to paint a fuller picture of its potential lore. In my opinion, the [Regalia of Eochaid] and its location is a double-helmed story, shedding light on both the lore of the kingdom and its inevitable conclusion.
In short, this post aims to explore the lore of Eochaid, a lesser, long vanished domain...
I believe Eochaid was destroyed during Godfrey’s conquest, pillaged by the many, had its royal heirs imprisoned and “forgot about”, if not quite knowingly left to die; a domain who now only lives on through its arcane ways, arcane ways mastered and used throughout the murderous quest of Elemer of the Briar…
Regalia of Eochaid. Source image : Fextralife.
The Regalia of Eochaid reads:
“Treasured sword of Eochaid, a lesser, long-vanished domain.”
The Regalia of Eochaid, however treasured, is not just a common sword. It’s in the name: its a regalia. Perhaps even the regalia.
The term Regalia is derived of regal, meaning all things pertaining to kingship. Regalia are therefore extremely important items. They are the attributes of royalty. These are the ceremonial or official emblems of power you can see and hold, which both evoke and guarantee blood right, tenure, rank, and, in a sense, even destiny. Those items (and the ceremonials that follow) are what gives legitimacy to a ruling monarch. Some are even hidden to unworthy eyes (see: the three sacred treasures of Japan). Commonly though, regalia can be crowns, scepters, maces, orbs, colors, concepts… and yes, swords: just like the [Regalia of Eochaid]. Such items, as regalia, are the exclusive property of the state, a “state” that in itself is a mere extension of the royal family, a royal family conjoined in its most preeminent figure: a king, a queen, an heir, the next in line, etc…. In short, the [Regalia of Eochaid] was the very symbol of royalty of its domain, whose political system was a monarchy. Other regalia of Eochaid might have existed too, but the sword is undeniably the only one left, the only one preserved. Moreover it is characterized as being “treasured”, which might explain why it was preserved ; meaning, at least to Eochaid’s ruling class, and perhaps its people, the sword was the most important symbol of the land. It signified power, history, and ancestry. Out of all of available things they could have treasured, the people of Eochaid treasured their sword.
Regalias. Fom left to right : King Haakon VII and Queen Maud of Norway; regalia of Eochaid (Elden Ring) ; Regalia of Hungary ; Globus of Denmark. Source image : Montage by me. Historical pictures under CC, taken from wikipedia.
A choice not too difficult to interpret given what the land of Eochaid seem to be known for, and what great pride they seem to have put in their battle arts, as the skill “Eochaid’s Dancing Blade” seem to infer (possessive).
Same thing in regard to this other line in [Regalia of Eochaid]’s description, also describing Eochaid in terms of battle arts. Not geography or anything else: battle.
“Swords of Eochaid (plural) dance through the skies”
Therefore not only the royals were capable of arcane mastery, but all swordsmen (logically warriors, knights, perhaps squires too or even common soldiers, who knows) could use the Dancing Blade (obviously at different levels of mastery though).
From there, we can ask ourselves one thing: how did such an item ended up where it ended up?
Picking up the sword. Source image : screenshot by me.
Weapon-tombstones: a classic trop in medieval fantasy.
The [Regalia of Eochaid]’s location is peculiar. Safe some acrobatic double-jumping against a certain coast line, the only way to reach the sword is to go through the [Gaol Cave], situated in Caelid.
Moreover, the Regalia is planted upon three small tombstones, which implies that whoever’s buried under said tombstones had a relationship to the Regalia.
In fact, what we have here is the classic weapon-tombstone trope. A weapon (and in high fantasy an ancestral weapon) is planted on the site of death or site of burial of an esteemed deceased (classically the hero). This practice is meant to honor the dead by way of his weapon, marking his site of rest with said weapon. But, in our case, it’s more than that.
The Regalia of Eochaid: a weapon-tombstone.
We already established the nature of a regalia: it is the royal symbol of a domain/monarchy, here Eochaid. Therefore, this weapon-tombstone is not just any other weapon-tombstones : it marks the passing of a royal of Eochaid. An Eochaid royal must be buried here. If not, why would the regalia be left with a tombstone? But, what is even more peculiar, is that we don’t just have one grave, we have three.
Source image : screenshot by me.
An interesting finding convinced me that the three little tombstones are not only meant to evoke three heirs, they are also meant to evoke three children. This theory is linked to the very origins of the word “Eochaid”.
“Eochaid” the name of a god in Irish Folklore who, at one point, had three concurrent children.
Eochaid is derived from Irish Legends and mythology; bluntly, it means “horse”; but Eochaid is also and mostly a prince and king’s name in legends, and also the other name of a very important god in Irish folklore : “The Dagda”.
“The Dagda”, or “Eochaid”, had, at one point, you name it, three concurrent children. Three sons, all brothers: Aed, Cermait and Aengus.
We already know From Software knows some form of Irish Folklore, and specifically tales that surround “The Dagda”. “Midir”, for example, is another son of the same Figure. And Midir is a well-known From Software Boss name that was used in the past: Midir is the name chosen for Dark Souls 3 Ring City DLC Boss : “Darkeater Midir”.
Moreover, other names in Elden Ring are Celtic/Irish inspired as well: O’Neil, Niall, etc. Tons of concepts might be too. Someone at From Software or the team as whole is having great fun at picking names and inspiration from this specific folklore. Nevertheless, I must say I have not read any of it, safe for the part I skimmed over regarding the three sons of Eochaid, Aed, Cermait and Aengus.
(Credit to: Ziostorm, Fletcher Vanson, all kinds of Reddit posts for pointed this out. Links down below in “Resources used”).
Nevertheless, the lore concerning Eochaid does not stop there.
Three Glowstones also found, equaling the three weapon-tomstones
In addition comes an even more interesting finding.
Next to the three small tombstones where the [Regalia of Eochaid] rests, on the same cliff but slightly to the left, overseeing the sea, we can find the corpse of an Aristocrat. Aristocrats are said to hail from the capital (Leyndell) ([Arsitocrat set], [Aristocrat ashes]). The Aristocrats corpse holds a very interesting item: [Glowstones]x3; which thus, in turn, equal the number of graves.
Why?
Source image : screenshot by me.
Three tombstones, a regalia, three Glowstones, a prison: what happened?
Three tombstones, three [Glowstones], a Regalia of a vanished domain… and all of that at the very end of a prison ([Gaol Cave]); is there not a story to be told here?
The graves are crude, with no ornaments. They are also quite small; less graves than tombstones.
Burial means both a buried and a burier. Who is buried here and who buried them?
Could it be that aristocrat, next to the graves?
And why is he holding three Glowstones, equaling the number of graves?
This is my interpretation of what happened.
Eochaid was a lesser, ancient domain, well versed in ancient legends and heresies alike ([Loner description]). This land was “foreign” ([Briar set], worn by Elemer, who hails from Eochaid), a descriptive that needs to be understood as being unfavorable to the Greattree Era or what soon would become the Erdtree Era.
The culture of this domain was mainly solitary, breeding a country of loners and ascetics ([Briar Greatshield]). Surely among those solitary souls must have lived powerful warriors and sage, but most of them - because of the culture in which they were raised in - had a strong individualistic spine to them, which led to a lot of the more independent fellows - which arguably could be the strongest, most promising, most ambitious of Eochaid’s people - to live secluded away, on their own, thus outside of the kingdom, and this more time than not. Still, Eochaid had a sense of state, and thus thrived as a monarchy with ruling royals and regalia (the [Regalia of Eochaid].
Eochaid’s sense of state and achievements came to be thanks to a keen arcane battle sense ([Eochaid’s Dancing Blade]). Those arcane ways and battle arts helped them overcome a sufficient number of threats and foes to establish themselves as a kingdom, their swords and weapons dancing through the air with arcane prowess. But, interestingly, not just the air. The description of the [Regalia of Eochaid] specifically states that the swords “danced through the skies”.
For a battle art to grace the sky, must that mean that the Warriors of Eochaid were maybe, somehow… airborne?
Glowstones: a possible relationship between Eochaid and Farum Azula?
The three Glowstones the Aristocrat happens to hold onto next to the (also) three graves where the Regalia lies tell a story. I took them as hints as to Eochaid’s people place of either origin, or influence.
Glowstones are refined Ruin fragments, which are believed to have once been part of a temple in the sky.
[Glowstones] are refined [Ruin Fragments]. [Ruin Fragments] seem to be strands of the decaying ruins of Farum Azula. Moreover, Glowstones imply and stress their “sun-like” properties, hidden light emitting from the unrefined [Ruin Fragments]. As it happens, there does exists a “Sun Realm” in Elden Ring, who many have theorized to be an alternative or more encompassing name of Farum Azula’s Seat of the Storm. Moreover, Farum Azula is the only place in Elden Ring where night never falls (Credit to Crunchy on youtube for pointing this out). Therefore the links are easy enough to make:
These shards of stone are believed to have once been part of a temple in the sky. They glow with a faint light from within.
Were the Eochaid Warriors Dragon riders?
The Celtic origins of the word Eochaid define Eochaid as meaning “Horse”.
Horse are typically ridden. Ridden, they are the attributes of knights, grand warriors, etc. So the big proposition could be this one: given how Caelid is home to Dragons ([Dragonbarrow]), and that Farum Azula had and still has a Dragon Lord at its peak (Placidussax), a dragon which was then launched with part of his kin and followers into the sky where he now resides, with other lesser Drakes and Wyverns that to this day circle the air of Farum Azula, could Eochaid warriors have been Dragon Riders?
Eochaid’s people or Eochaid warriors being Dragon Riders or, at the very least, inhabitants of Caelid and thus vassals of dragons, would conciliate all information presented up top. Nevertheless, I leave this to people’s interpretation, as other speculation explored below can explain why the Aristocrat holds three Glowstones, equaling the number of graves.
Going back to the point. Eochaid, a small kingdom of Caelid
Going back to the point, Eochaid was a lesser, ancient domain, well versed in ancient legends and heresies alike ([Loner description]). While the land is described as “foreign” ([Briar set]), the descriptive needs to be understood as “unfavorable to the Greattree Era” or what soon would become the Erdtree Era. Given the location of the Regalia of Eochaid, the relation with the Glowstones/Farum Azula possibilities, as well as more proof I will present down below, I believe Eochaid was situated somewhere in Caelid. The culture of this domain was mainly solitary, breeding a country of loners and ascetics alike ([Briar Greatshield]). But, surely, among those solitary souls, must have lived powerful warriors and sages, but most of them - because of the culture of their land – lived outside their kingdom. This left the domain somewhat unpopulated and unprotected. Still, Eochaid had a sense of state, and thrived as a monarchy with ruling royals.
That sense of state and self-governance of Eochaid also rested on its people mastery over arcane ([Eochaid’s Dancing Blade]). Those arcane ways and battle arts helped them overcome threats and foes, their swords and weapons dancing through the skies/air.
Then came Godfrey’s wars.
Clash with Godfrey.
Godrey. Source image : Das7ardly on Youtube.
Like many other clans, countries and domains before them, Eochaid was to war with Godfrey in the First Elden Lord’s effort to assure, on behalf of Marika, absolute dominion over the Lands Between.
Godfrey’s might and forces were simply too much for Eochaid’s defenses, however arcane they might have been. I also believe the land suffered an even greater loss, as it was amputated of its most powerful, promising fighters, as the more talented and ambitious of Eochaid’s ascetics and loners would undoubtedly surely be out of the kingdom. Given that many of those solitary souls were out of the land at the time of battle, because of their loner and ascetic attitudes, Eochaid suffered the scissor effect of having to deal with Godfrey’s might on one hand and having to make do with its own apparent lack of fighters on the other. One such fighter, a promising and ambitious one at that, was out of the kingdom when Godfrey attacked. That fighter was Elemer. He would regret it, but that story (explained further below) must wait the closing of this chapter first.
More importantly, something went wrong during Godfrey’s conquest of Eochaid.
No worthy foe.
Instead of his usual modus operandi of facing, in single combat, the lord of the opposing force ([Elden Lord Crown]), Godfrey found himself faced with three “naked babes”: these were the three monarchs of Eochaid, yes, but these were children, unable to fight.
Thus Godfrey, the battle and prestige craven, found himself with no worthy foes.
I believe there were no able-bodied monarch of Eochaid at this specific time. The child-royals were yes, true heirs, but as children they were incapable of battle, unlike the Eochaid warriors Godfrey faced on his way to victory, or any other enemy he faced before that for that matter. Faced with no worthy foe ([Elden Lord Crown]), Godfrey still conquered the land, but was left stumped as to what to do with his child-enemies.
Godfrey’s decision.
The situation was complicated. The Eochaid Lords were children and so worthy of some consideration, and mostly compassion; but they were also heirs of an enemy kingdom, a possibly dangerous one at that, and thus worthy of the upmost suspicion, carefulness, but mainly severity, as none shall oppose the new Erdtree or Marika’s coming epoch ([Protection of the Erdtree]). As such Godfrey was squeezed between two problems: 1. the coming age of the Golden Order, and Marika’s one rule of absolute dominion, ensuring caution be taken in regards to foes, would they be fallen or not, with the general doctrine being not to leave the slightest of openings in which an opposing force might seize opportunity to rise against Her; and 2. the blaring inhumanity of robbing children of life. Considering the timeline, this must have been when Godfrey himself had children (Godwyn and possibly the Omen Twins too). That is to say that he empathized. I believe he harbored those conflicts, conflicts as to what to do. Nevertheless, considering Godfrey’s personality, he quickly grew disinterested with the fate of the Eochaid heirs, and chose to stay his path on his goal of conquest; for his consort Marika and for his respectability as Elden Lord. A warrior at heart, a pragmatic soul in regards to the consequences of war, and wanting to be worthy of his title of “Lord”, Godfrey set his eyes on the next worthy foe. Godfrey left the problem of how to deal with the Eochaid royals to his stewardship, favoring his army, and ignoring the politics of the royal capital. In short, Godfrey went on his way, and left Eochaid to be dealt with however it should be dealt with.
Entrance of the Gaol Cave. Source image : screenshot by me
The Eochaid’s heirs, unable to die at the hands of Godfrey and robbed of their kingdom, left domain-less, were transferred not too far away from their Caelid residence into the [Gaol Cave] (probably along other prisoners form other defeated clans, or even Eochaid).
As for the Eochaid’s inhabitants, as it happens in war, having much less importance than esteemed royals, they were massacred or dispersed. Excised from its ruling class, the land of Eochaid was sacked, pillaged, and despoiled. The [Vulgar Militiamen], pillagers one and all, insured the plunder, the ransack and the despoiling of this once stable kingdom, excising it from the memory of history ([Vulgar Militia set]).
Eochaid, like many other domains before and after it, became a “vanished domain” ([Regalia of Eochaid]).
“Forbidden lands excised from memory” and “vanished domain”, is where I believe the lines and paths cross between the Vulgar Militiamen location in Caelid and Eochaid’s potential location. I believe the remnants of Eochaid to be one of the ruins in Caelid, one coincidently close to the Gaol Cave where we find the Regalia. For me, it makes environmental and positional sense for Eochaid’s “vanished” location be somewhere in Caelid.
Manning the Gaol Cave
Those same Vulgar Militiamen, despite their brutality, theft and inhuman treatment of the vanquished (or maybe because of it), were the unavoidable, perfect and necessary force needed to man the newly opened [Gaol Cave], a jail which was increasing in population as Godfrey conquered more and more of Caelid. The Vulgar Militiamen had the numbers and the severity to operate the Gaol. Therefore, in a sick twist of fate, while they were perhaps still pillaging Eochaid, the Vulgar Militiamen were also asked (most likely ordered) to man the [Gaol Cave] for the Erdtree forces. They were not too far away from their place of profit (ancient Eochaid, somewhere in Caelid), and perfectly close enough to become the perfect jailers of the Gaol Cave, prison of the Eochaid royal children and other troublesome foes.
Militamen in the Gaol Cave. Source : screenshot by me.
An Aristocrat is chosen to oversee the Gaol Cave
The [Gaol Cave], newly mounted prison for the Erdtree’s defeated enemies, was to be, like any other prison, administered by an overseer. That overseer was chosen amongst the nobles of Godfrey’s stewardship (note : armies in medieval times, which Elden Ring and all medieval fantasy take heavy inspiration from, had way more than just soldiers and knights in their tents: they were soldiers yes, but also officials, mercenaries, bands, priests, all kinds of tradesmen, blacksmiths, merchants, slaves, etc. Peasants followed too. This was called ost, which attracted a lot of people, because opportunities were being made in the day to day of war).
An Aristocrat that hailed from the capital was chosen to become warden of the jail. As recompense for this deed, The Aristocrat was gifted with the most prized spoil of the most recently defeated kingdom: the [Regalia of Eochaid]. A foul gift, as the Aristocrat knew of the Eochaid’s royals subsequent fate.
Side-note: the Regalia of Eochaid: a useless gift
Funnily enough, the Regalia of Eochaid given to the Aristocrat was a cheeky gift too. As much as the sword was renowned or treasured by its people, the arcane power it held was nowhere to be seen while holding the sword. Only one who mastered Arcane could had use the sword to its full potential.
Thus, the sword was mostly useless to all. A relic, of low extraction; a useless gift, for a thankless task.
But I doubt The Aristocrat cared much for any of that. He was more concerned with the prison.
The Aristocrat. Source : screenshot by me.
The Aristocrat takes pity, helps the Eochaid children
As Godfrey was squeezed in his decisions, The Aristocrat, now warden of the Gaol, was also pressed as to how to deal with all those prisoners, some truly vengeful and desperate. The aristocrat was surrounded with forces beyond his control, with very little leeway as to discipline them, given the ruthless Vulgar Militiamen prancing about, abusing their power.
Overruled with forces that would squash him if given the chance, and unlikely to disobey a direct command in fear of losing both his standing and surely his life, the Aristocrat could only subtly spare help, fair judgement and at best empathy to others. Among all the prisoners, The Aristocrat favored the Eochaid heirs, as they were children, especially given that they were put in chains in such a rough environment, which was an absurd predicament for royal heirs. He favored them both as children and as nobles. I think he naturally saw fit to become their benefactor, allowing himself to help when he could. But, given the circumstances, such help was sparse. The Aristocrat had little opportunity to act. Thus, his help came in the form of [Glowstones] that he distributed to each of the children in an effort to alleviate their suffering; to replace the harshness of the prison with warmth, and most importantly light, silly games maybe, as to conjure the swallowing dark, hoping this would help them endure. However, it was not enough: in the end, the children died.
Last of their line.
Did they die in their cells? Out of exhaustion or terrible conditions? Did they die at the hands of the Vulgar Militamen? Perhaps they tried to escape, but failed? Was it, perhaps, out of mistreatment from other prisoners, jealous ones, crazed ones, or both? Or some other unknown reason? Nobody knows. No one can know. One thing is sure: The Aristocrat found them dead, for he had three [Glowstones] still on him. He was prepared to lend help once again, even if faintly.
The Aristocrat, ridden with guilt, anger, sadness, complex emotions, took it upon himself to bury the children somewhere that was not this terrible prison. He wanted to give them a proper burial.
Thus, he went into the deepest reaches of the Gaol Cave; there, he found an exit, with a flowered cliff, facing the sea.
He chiseled three small tombstones, one for each of the children. Small, but solemn tombstones. Then, he dug.
He laid to rest the three children, further marking their grave with the [Regalia of Eochaid]; a sword that was gifted to him but belonged to them; a final reminder of their original home and of their ancestry.
Finally, The Aristocrat let himself go, facing the sea, still holding on to his three solar stones…
The Aristocrat, still holding the Glowstones. Source :screenshot by me.
A gaol, buried under the sand...
With the overseer gone, the gaol was left in disarray. Years later, perhaps hundreds of years later, a [Frenzied Duelist] exiled from the Caelid Colosseum was sent in to somewhat replace The Aristocrat and act as warden. Perhaps his madness would serve him there as strength to hold the prison down, control the Vulgar Militiamen. Perhaps not.
But still, then, all went for worse.
Godfrey’s lost his grace; his son, Godwyn, was assassinated; The Shattering took place. In all three events, the [Gaol Cave] was already a half-buried memory. Too far away and of too little importance…
Malenia faced Radhan; the Rot Flower bloomed; Caelid was transformed into the dead and bizarre land that it is now.
What led to the creation of the Gaol Cave was definitely forgotten. Perhaps it was used in the Shattering War, perhaps it was not. Eochaid, its land, and the fate of the royals, was definitely buried under the sand and the rot.
That is, until a lowly Tarnished happened upon the graves.
Source image : screenshot by me.
I believe Elemer (as a loner, like his people) was out roaming the lands while Godfrey conquered his. He then came home, came home to no home, and, vengeful, went on a personal quest to recover relics, equipment and other objects of Eochaid that were pillaged and traded away. I believe this pillaging was done by the Vulgar Militiamen and continued by merchants. This explains why Elemer singled out merchants and traders: they unjustly profited of the destruction of his homeland. I would go as far as to say that not only did they stole, sold and dispersed Eochaid goods, I believe the Great Caravan also destroyed Eochaid’s arts for its gems, which they adorned their hat, clothes and other apparel with. This gives reason as to why we do not find any authentic Eochaid relics other than Elemer’s equipment, which he slowly recomposed over time, and the Regalia, lost in the cave.
Colors and gems. Source image : montage and screenshots by me.
Elemer’s revenge, Elemer’s quest
Elemer, for revenge and as a mean to acquire back Eochaid culture goods, killed many merchants. However, he also must have sought information, as to inquire about trading routes. Elemer is not free of blame: he probably profited off his killings, living as a bandit. Nevertheless, killing and killing is not an effective strategy if your plan is to inquire about the whereabouts of specific items. You must also obtain information. Therefore (in between the killings) he must surely have sought out information, exchanging favors, intimidating surely, mostly merchants yes, but perhaps, also, royalty, nobility, all kinds of aristocrats, etc. Therefore, in his quest, he ended up intimidating sellers, buyers, law and order, truly living life as a criminal, as a bandit, alienating everyone, disturbing the peace and an entire business in the process. Thus, Elemer of Eochaid became infamously known as Elemer “The Bell Bearing Hunter”.
Elemer slowly upped his fame as “The Bell Bearing Hunter”, a lone survivor from a vanished kingdom, bent on revenge. But the Bell Bearing Hunter was the very definition of a bothersome foe. Imagine some hulking beast, with strange powers, on a quest to find something at the cost of YOUR life, poking his nose in everyone’s affairs, not afraid to kill and extremely good at it, slowly but surely drowning out all profit in the process.
Thus, someone stepped in.
Elemer “The Bell Bearing Hunter” caught. Embracing the Briar.
The one now infamously known as the Bell Bearing Hunter was either caught at the scene of a crime, betrayed, sold out by a contact he had, or all three.
We know the rest. Elemer was immobilized while in armor (most probably by a Leyndell Knight, or many, as some of them are strong enough to subdue Demi Gods, and subduing a fully armored and battle ready Elemer can’t be that easy); next, he was covered with the metal briar, and sentenced to death. He was sent out for execution in the declining Marais Castle. However, he managed to escape his apparent end by using his Eochaid skills, stealing, at the site of his own execution, the fabled Marais Executioner Sword he was to be decapitated with. He then managed to take control of the castle, and used it as a base of operations.
Elemer then went on killing, madder than ever, possibly even more fiercely, trading his fame as “The Bell Bearing Hunter” for the moniker of “Elemer of the Briar”.
Elemer went on his quest. However, the merchants he killed held less and less actual goods. Unbeknownst to him perhaps is that, concurrently, most of the Great Caravan merchants were buried deep underground, with the Frenzied Flame, and so was their sheer access to goods and the very quality of them. The Great Caravan were reduced to isolated peddlers in hard to reach regions; therefore, Elemer killed isolated peddlers in hard to reach regions, for meager reward…
Elemer’s quest: nobler than it seems? Alas, for naught.
Over time, perhaps Elemer lost his mind. Alternatively, perhaps he stayed completely sane. Then again, maybe Elemer was never “himself” again after his arrest, as we can clearly see, under the briars of his armor, how “twisted” his helm is. He maybe shared a fate similar to Vyke’s, losing his sanity in the process of being quite literally squeezed by a hostile force.
A twisted helm for a twisted mind ? Source image : screenshot by me.
One subsequent theory is that all of Elemer’s crimes, searches and killings were conjoined in one single effort: the hope that, one day, out of all the unjustly traded spoils of Eochaid, he would lay his hands on the lost Regalia, the treasured sword of his former home. Perhaps he wanted to be king, reform the land, and the regalia could serve that objective, serve as proof, as beacon. Perhaps Marais Castle could have become the perfect new starting point for a “New Eochaid”.
Or perhaps it had some sentimental value. Could Elemer be of higher extraction? Himself a royal heir?...
Unfortunately, how could he, or anyone at that point, know where the Regalia of Eochaid was? As we know, the sword was laid to rest with its royals heirs, far away, and far too long ago, in a forgotten jail-pit in what is now a rot-filled Caelid.
Thus, an endless quest, in a dying world.
Thanks, shout-outs and closing thoughts
Thanks to everyone who made it till the end. This conclude my interpretation of Eochaid’s lore.
Tl;dr:
Eochaid was a Caelid domain. The domain was destroyed during Godfrey’s conquest of the region, pillaged by the many, and had its royal heirs (children) die in imprisonment. Now, Eochaid only lives through two mementos: the Regalia of Eochaid, buried with the royal children at the end of the Gaol Cave, and Elemer of the Briar, who stayed his path on a never-ending quest to avenge the pillage of his former home.
Those who pillaged and profited off Eochaid’s fall were mostly merchants and traders (The Great Caravan). Elemer endlessly targeted and murdered them, receiving his name as The Bell Bearing Hunter, all in the hopes that perhaps, one day, among all of their spoils, he might recover enough of Eochaid’s stolen goods; maybe to restart the land, maybe for simple revenge, or maybe to finally find its people’s treasured sword : the Regalia of Eochaid.
Resources used:
The game obviously.
Fextralife.
Hawkshaw’s excellent Mapping the world video.
Smoughtown’s excellent Elden Ring timeline video.
Wikipedia.
Ziostorm’s video on irish influence.
Screen rant article on Elden Ring Irish inspiration.
submitted by No_Contribution15 to Eldenring [link] [comments]
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Here is my interpretation of Eochaid Lore. It’s a deep-dive that goes through what little we have and links it with a great deal of logical leaps ; and imagination, I must admit... But, I do think it’s mostly sound.
My lore also explains Elemer of the Briar, a topic I saw had great interest with u/fseen thread. This pushed me to release my thoughts on the subject, him and Eochaid being one of my favorite bite-size lore pieces in the game.
For those too pressed to read, and yeah, s*** is long, you’ll find a tl;dr at the end of the post. This allows you to get the theory without missing any key pieces; and you can ofc read the long format for proof or the logical pathways I used to come to my conclusions, without missing too much.
Good read.
Preface: Painting Eochaid.
\all items* or locations referenced are put in [captions], for easy review. All screenshots by me, mentioned if or if not in any case. Credit given under each picture. Spoilers ahead.Little is known about Eochaid. Two sword, a shield, and a recurring Great Enemy who is said to ail from it, that’s… pretty much it. These are the only items in the game that directly mention it. Taking it as it is, Eochaid - compared to other lore or story fragments – is barely a scratch in the world of Elden Ring, a brief auxiliary tale of one of its lesser kingdoms. However, ever since I happened upon the calm, see breezed, tip-toe bright, colorful-flowers surrounding, green bush wrapping cliff on which you can find the [Regalia of Eochaid], I’ve been fascinated. The sword was just planted there, on the site, with three graves, as some kind of memento. It was such a stark contrast from Caelid and its [Gaol Cave] (which leads you there), coming from an apocalyptic red-blood sky, rust-colored sand, overall desolate land and a burned corpse-ridden prison, that I had to inquire more about it. It was impossible for me not to think of [Regalia of Eochaid]’s placement as unintentional. Since then, I could only think of one thing regarding those graves and the sword, and, of course, its description: events led to this. It was one of the great moments of my playthrough. And I believe it can become a great pocket-moment in the game overall for everyone as well, if sufficient thought is breathed into it; and, of course, if people ascribe to its potential lore…
This post aims to give Eochaid this sufficient thought and lore.
So, using item descriptions, environmental story-telling, logical leaps, as well as a necessary great-deal of suppositions and conjecture, my purpose here is to share my interpretation of Eochaid and its place in the world; my aim is to paint a fuller picture of its potential lore. In my opinion, the [Regalia of Eochaid] and its location is a double-helmed story, shedding light on both the lore of the kingdom and its inevitable conclusion.
In short, this post aims to explore the lore of Eochaid, a lesser, long vanished domain...
I believe Eochaid was destroyed during Godfrey’s conquest, pillaged by the many, had its royal heirs imprisoned and “forgot about”, if not quite knowingly left to die; a domain who now only lives on through its arcane ways, arcane ways mastered and used throughout the murderous quest of Elemer of the Briar…
Origins: The Regalia of Eochaid.
The Regalia of Eochaid, the very emblem of a nation.
Regalia of Eochaid. Source image : Fextralife.
The Regalia of Eochaid reads:
“Treasured sword of Eochaid, a lesser, long-vanished domain.”
The Regalia of Eochaid, however treasured, is not just a common sword. It’s in the name: its a regalia. Perhaps even the regalia.
The term Regalia is derived of regal, meaning all things pertaining to kingship. Regalia are therefore extremely important items. They are the attributes of royalty. These are the ceremonial or official emblems of power you can see and hold, which both evoke and guarantee blood right, tenure, rank, and, in a sense, even destiny. Those items (and the ceremonials that follow) are what gives legitimacy to a ruling monarch. Some are even hidden to unworthy eyes (see: the three sacred treasures of Japan). Commonly though, regalia can be crowns, scepters, maces, orbs, colors, concepts… and yes, swords: just like the [Regalia of Eochaid]. Such items, as regalia, are the exclusive property of the state, a “state” that in itself is a mere extension of the royal family, a royal family conjoined in its most preeminent figure: a king, a queen, an heir, the next in line, etc…. In short, the [Regalia of Eochaid] was the very symbol of royalty of its domain, whose political system was a monarchy. Other regalia of Eochaid might have existed too, but the sword is undeniably the only one left, the only one preserved. Moreover it is characterized as being “treasured”, which might explain why it was preserved ; meaning, at least to Eochaid’s ruling class, and perhaps its people, the sword was the most important symbol of the land. It signified power, history, and ancestry. Out of all of available things they could have treasured, the people of Eochaid treasured their sword.
Regalias. Fom left to right : King Haakon VII and Queen Maud of Norway; regalia of Eochaid (Elden Ring) ; Regalia of Hungary ; Globus of Denmark. Source image : Montage by me. Historical pictures under CC, taken from wikipedia.
A choice not too difficult to interpret given what the land of Eochaid seem to be known for, and what great pride they seem to have put in their battle arts, as the skill “Eochaid’s Dancing Blade” seem to infer (possessive).
Same thing in regard to this other line in [Regalia of Eochaid]’s description, also describing Eochaid in terms of battle arts. Not geography or anything else: battle.
“Swords of Eochaid (plural) dance through the skies”
Therefore not only the royals were capable of arcane mastery, but all swordsmen (logically warriors, knights, perhaps squires too or even common soldiers, who knows) could use the Dancing Blade (obviously at different levels of mastery though).
From there, we can ask ourselves one thing: how did such an item ended up where it ended up?
Picking up the sword. Source image : screenshot by me.
Weapon-tombstones: a classic trop in medieval fantasy.
The [Regalia of Eochaid]’s location is peculiar. Safe some acrobatic double-jumping against a certain coast line, the only way to reach the sword is to go through the [Gaol Cave], situated in Caelid.
Moreover, the Regalia is planted upon three small tombstones, which implies that whoever’s buried under said tombstones had a relationship to the Regalia.
In fact, what we have here is the classic weapon-tombstone trope. A weapon (and in high fantasy an ancestral weapon) is planted on the site of death or site of burial of an esteemed deceased (classically the hero). This practice is meant to honor the dead by way of his weapon, marking his site of rest with said weapon. But, in our case, it’s more than that.
The Regalia of Eochaid: a weapon-tombstone.
We already established the nature of a regalia: it is the royal symbol of a domain/monarchy, here Eochaid. Therefore, this weapon-tombstone is not just any other weapon-tombstones : it marks the passing of a royal of Eochaid. An Eochaid royal must be buried here. If not, why would the regalia be left with a tombstone? But, what is even more peculiar, is that we don’t just have one grave, we have three.
Source image : screenshot by me.
An interesting finding convinced me that the three little tombstones are not only meant to evoke three heirs, they are also meant to evoke three children. This theory is linked to the very origins of the word “Eochaid”.
“Eochaid” the name of a god in Irish Folklore who, at one point, had three concurrent children.
Eochaid is derived from Irish Legends and mythology; bluntly, it means “horse”; but Eochaid is also and mostly a prince and king’s name in legends, and also the other name of a very important god in Irish folklore : “The Dagda”.
“The Dagda”, or “Eochaid”, had, at one point, you name it, three concurrent children. Three sons, all brothers: Aed, Cermait and Aengus.
We already know From Software knows some form of Irish Folklore, and specifically tales that surround “The Dagda”. “Midir”, for example, is another son of the same Figure. And Midir is a well-known From Software Boss name that was used in the past: Midir is the name chosen for Dark Souls 3 Ring City DLC Boss : “Darkeater Midir”.
Moreover, other names in Elden Ring are Celtic/Irish inspired as well: O’Neil, Niall, etc. Tons of concepts might be too. Someone at From Software or the team as whole is having great fun at picking names and inspiration from this specific folklore. Nevertheless, I must say I have not read any of it, safe for the part I skimmed over regarding the three sons of Eochaid, Aed, Cermait and Aengus.
(Credit to: Ziostorm, Fletcher Vanson, all kinds of Reddit posts for pointed this out. Links down below in “Resources used”).
Nevertheless, the lore concerning Eochaid does not stop there.
Three Glowstones also found, equaling the three weapon-tomstones
In addition comes an even more interesting finding.
Next to the three small tombstones where the [Regalia of Eochaid] rests, on the same cliff but slightly to the left, overseeing the sea, we can find the corpse of an Aristocrat. Aristocrats are said to hail from the capital (Leyndell) ([Arsitocrat set], [Aristocrat ashes]). The Aristocrats corpse holds a very interesting item: [Glowstones]x3; which thus, in turn, equal the number of graves.
Why?
Source image : screenshot by me.
Three tombstones, a regalia, three Glowstones, a prison: what happened?
Three tombstones, three [Glowstones], a Regalia of a vanished domain… and all of that at the very end of a prison ([Gaol Cave]); is there not a story to be told here?
The graves are crude, with no ornaments. They are also quite small; less graves than tombstones.
Burial means both a buried and a burier. Who is buried here and who buried them?
Could it be that aristocrat, next to the graves?
And why is he holding three Glowstones, equaling the number of graves?
This is my interpretation of what happened.
Eochaid: origin
Eochaid: An arcane monarchy of loners and ascetics.Eochaid was a lesser, ancient domain, well versed in ancient legends and heresies alike ([Loner description]). This land was “foreign” ([Briar set], worn by Elemer, who hails from Eochaid), a descriptive that needs to be understood as being unfavorable to the Greattree Era or what soon would become the Erdtree Era.
The culture of this domain was mainly solitary, breeding a country of loners and ascetics ([Briar Greatshield]). Surely among those solitary souls must have lived powerful warriors and sage, but most of them - because of the culture in which they were raised in - had a strong individualistic spine to them, which led to a lot of the more independent fellows - which arguably could be the strongest, most promising, most ambitious of Eochaid’s people - to live secluded away, on their own, thus outside of the kingdom, and this more time than not. Still, Eochaid had a sense of state, and thus thrived as a monarchy with ruling royals and regalia (the [Regalia of Eochaid].
Eochaid’s sense of state and achievements came to be thanks to a keen arcane battle sense ([Eochaid’s Dancing Blade]). Those arcane ways and battle arts helped them overcome a sufficient number of threats and foes to establish themselves as a kingdom, their swords and weapons dancing through the air with arcane prowess. But, interestingly, not just the air. The description of the [Regalia of Eochaid] specifically states that the swords “danced through the skies”.
For a battle art to grace the sky, must that mean that the Warriors of Eochaid were maybe, somehow… airborne?
Glowstones: a possible relationship between Eochaid and Farum Azula?
The three Glowstones the Aristocrat happens to hold onto next to the (also) three graves where the Regalia lies tell a story. I took them as hints as to Eochaid’s people place of either origin, or influence.
Glowstones are refined Ruin fragments, which are believed to have once been part of a temple in the sky.
[Glowstones] are refined [Ruin Fragments]. [Ruin Fragments] seem to be strands of the decaying ruins of Farum Azula. Moreover, Glowstones imply and stress their “sun-like” properties, hidden light emitting from the unrefined [Ruin Fragments]. As it happens, there does exists a “Sun Realm” in Elden Ring, who many have theorized to be an alternative or more encompassing name of Farum Azula’s Seat of the Storm. Moreover, Farum Azula is the only place in Elden Ring where night never falls (Credit to Crunchy on youtube for pointing this out). Therefore the links are easy enough to make:
- The Glowstones (sun-touched stones) are refined Ruin Fragments, which are theorized to be left-overs produced from Farum Azula airborne and continued decay.
These shards of stone are believed to have once been part of a temple in the sky. They glow with a faint light from within.
- Ruin Fragments can be found on ruins found throughout the lands.
- It is always sunny in Farum Azula. Have the ruins absorbed the power of the sun?
- Some skeletal Beast-Warriors in Farum Azula (thus arguably the most ancient ones) are equipped with Sun Realm Shields. This is the most definitive proof of Farum Azula being somehow linked to the Sun Realm. However, we must also not forget that prior to Farum Azula being launched into the sky, Farum Azula rested upon the ground. Thus “the Sun Realm” could have been a more encompassing name for Caelid or even the Lands Between as a whole when under Dragon dominion, given we find Skeletal Humans with Sun Realm Shields too - all over the Lands Between, in the graveyards, thus prior to Tree/Erdtree burial (with thus Placidusax as the early Elden Lord). It might also be an easteregg (in addition to it making timeline sense), as a nice “passing of the torch” meta commentary from From Software to itself and fans. On one hand you have a land befallen by DRAGONS named after THE SUN (DARK SOULS); on the other you have the transition era from the SUN REALM to the LANDS BETWEEN, a land befallen by RUNES and no longer dragons (ELDEN RING). It can be interpreted as a passing of the torch from Dark Souls to Elden Ring.
Were the Eochaid Warriors Dragon riders?
The Celtic origins of the word Eochaid define Eochaid as meaning “Horse”.
Horse are typically ridden. Ridden, they are the attributes of knights, grand warriors, etc. So the big proposition could be this one: given how Caelid is home to Dragons ([Dragonbarrow]), and that Farum Azula had and still has a Dragon Lord at its peak (Placidussax), a dragon which was then launched with part of his kin and followers into the sky where he now resides, with other lesser Drakes and Wyverns that to this day circle the air of Farum Azula, could Eochaid warriors have been Dragon Riders?
Eochaid’s people or Eochaid warriors being Dragon Riders or, at the very least, inhabitants of Caelid and thus vassals of dragons, would conciliate all information presented up top. Nevertheless, I leave this to people’s interpretation, as other speculation explored below can explain why the Aristocrat holds three Glowstones, equaling the number of graves.
Going back to the point. Eochaid, a small kingdom of Caelid
Going back to the point, Eochaid was a lesser, ancient domain, well versed in ancient legends and heresies alike ([Loner description]). While the land is described as “foreign” ([Briar set]), the descriptive needs to be understood as “unfavorable to the Greattree Era” or what soon would become the Erdtree Era. Given the location of the Regalia of Eochaid, the relation with the Glowstones/Farum Azula possibilities, as well as more proof I will present down below, I believe Eochaid was situated somewhere in Caelid. The culture of this domain was mainly solitary, breeding a country of loners and ascetics alike ([Briar Greatshield]). But, surely, among those solitary souls, must have lived powerful warriors and sages, but most of them - because of the culture of their land – lived outside their kingdom. This left the domain somewhat unpopulated and unprotected. Still, Eochaid had a sense of state, and thrived as a monarchy with ruling royals.
That sense of state and self-governance of Eochaid also rested on its people mastery over arcane ([Eochaid’s Dancing Blade]). Those arcane ways and battle arts helped them overcome threats and foes, their swords and weapons dancing through the skies/air.
Then came Godfrey’s wars.
Clash with Godfrey.
Godrey. Source image : Das7ardly on Youtube.
Like many other clans, countries and domains before them, Eochaid was to war with Godfrey in the First Elden Lord’s effort to assure, on behalf of Marika, absolute dominion over the Lands Between.
Godfrey’s might and forces were simply too much for Eochaid’s defenses, however arcane they might have been. I also believe the land suffered an even greater loss, as it was amputated of its most powerful, promising fighters, as the more talented and ambitious of Eochaid’s ascetics and loners would undoubtedly surely be out of the kingdom. Given that many of those solitary souls were out of the land at the time of battle, because of their loner and ascetic attitudes, Eochaid suffered the scissor effect of having to deal with Godfrey’s might on one hand and having to make do with its own apparent lack of fighters on the other. One such fighter, a promising and ambitious one at that, was out of the kingdom when Godfrey attacked. That fighter was Elemer. He would regret it, but that story (explained further below) must wait the closing of this chapter first.
More importantly, something went wrong during Godfrey’s conquest of Eochaid.
No worthy foe.
Instead of his usual modus operandi of facing, in single combat, the lord of the opposing force ([Elden Lord Crown]), Godfrey found himself faced with three “naked babes”: these were the three monarchs of Eochaid, yes, but these were children, unable to fight.
Thus Godfrey, the battle and prestige craven, found himself with no worthy foes.
I believe there were no able-bodied monarch of Eochaid at this specific time. The child-royals were yes, true heirs, but as children they were incapable of battle, unlike the Eochaid warriors Godfrey faced on his way to victory, or any other enemy he faced before that for that matter. Faced with no worthy foe ([Elden Lord Crown]), Godfrey still conquered the land, but was left stumped as to what to do with his child-enemies.
Godfrey’s decision.
The situation was complicated. The Eochaid Lords were children and so worthy of some consideration, and mostly compassion; but they were also heirs of an enemy kingdom, a possibly dangerous one at that, and thus worthy of the upmost suspicion, carefulness, but mainly severity, as none shall oppose the new Erdtree or Marika’s coming epoch ([Protection of the Erdtree]). As such Godfrey was squeezed between two problems: 1. the coming age of the Golden Order, and Marika’s one rule of absolute dominion, ensuring caution be taken in regards to foes, would they be fallen or not, with the general doctrine being not to leave the slightest of openings in which an opposing force might seize opportunity to rise against Her; and 2. the blaring inhumanity of robbing children of life. Considering the timeline, this must have been when Godfrey himself had children (Godwyn and possibly the Omen Twins too). That is to say that he empathized. I believe he harbored those conflicts, conflicts as to what to do. Nevertheless, considering Godfrey’s personality, he quickly grew disinterested with the fate of the Eochaid heirs, and chose to stay his path on his goal of conquest; for his consort Marika and for his respectability as Elden Lord. A warrior at heart, a pragmatic soul in regards to the consequences of war, and wanting to be worthy of his title of “Lord”, Godfrey set his eyes on the next worthy foe. Godfrey left the problem of how to deal with the Eochaid royals to his stewardship, favoring his army, and ignoring the politics of the royal capital. In short, Godfrey went on his way, and left Eochaid to be dealt with however it should be dealt with.
Children imprisoned.
Royal heirs sent to the Gaol Cave, and a land excised from the memory of history.Entrance of the Gaol Cave. Source image : screenshot by me
The Eochaid’s heirs, unable to die at the hands of Godfrey and robbed of their kingdom, left domain-less, were transferred not too far away from their Caelid residence into the [Gaol Cave] (probably along other prisoners form other defeated clans, or even Eochaid).
As for the Eochaid’s inhabitants, as it happens in war, having much less importance than esteemed royals, they were massacred or dispersed. Excised from its ruling class, the land of Eochaid was sacked, pillaged, and despoiled. The [Vulgar Militiamen], pillagers one and all, insured the plunder, the ransack and the despoiling of this once stable kingdom, excising it from the memory of history ([Vulgar Militia set]).
Eochaid, like many other domains before and after it, became a “vanished domain” ([Regalia of Eochaid]).
“Forbidden lands excised from memory” and “vanished domain”, is where I believe the lines and paths cross between the Vulgar Militiamen location in Caelid and Eochaid’s potential location. I believe the remnants of Eochaid to be one of the ruins in Caelid, one coincidently close to the Gaol Cave where we find the Regalia. For me, it makes environmental and positional sense for Eochaid’s “vanished” location be somewhere in Caelid.
Manning the Gaol Cave
Those same Vulgar Militiamen, despite their brutality, theft and inhuman treatment of the vanquished (or maybe because of it), were the unavoidable, perfect and necessary force needed to man the newly opened [Gaol Cave], a jail which was increasing in population as Godfrey conquered more and more of Caelid. The Vulgar Militiamen had the numbers and the severity to operate the Gaol. Therefore, in a sick twist of fate, while they were perhaps still pillaging Eochaid, the Vulgar Militiamen were also asked (most likely ordered) to man the [Gaol Cave] for the Erdtree forces. They were not too far away from their place of profit (ancient Eochaid, somewhere in Caelid), and perfectly close enough to become the perfect jailers of the Gaol Cave, prison of the Eochaid royal children and other troublesome foes.
Militamen in the Gaol Cave. Source : screenshot by me.
An Aristocrat is chosen to oversee the Gaol Cave
The [Gaol Cave], newly mounted prison for the Erdtree’s defeated enemies, was to be, like any other prison, administered by an overseer. That overseer was chosen amongst the nobles of Godfrey’s stewardship (note : armies in medieval times, which Elden Ring and all medieval fantasy take heavy inspiration from, had way more than just soldiers and knights in their tents: they were soldiers yes, but also officials, mercenaries, bands, priests, all kinds of tradesmen, blacksmiths, merchants, slaves, etc. Peasants followed too. This was called ost, which attracted a lot of people, because opportunities were being made in the day to day of war).
An Aristocrat that hailed from the capital was chosen to become warden of the jail. As recompense for this deed, The Aristocrat was gifted with the most prized spoil of the most recently defeated kingdom: the [Regalia of Eochaid]. A foul gift, as the Aristocrat knew of the Eochaid’s royals subsequent fate.
Side-note: the Regalia of Eochaid: a useless gift
Funnily enough, the Regalia of Eochaid given to the Aristocrat was a cheeky gift too. As much as the sword was renowned or treasured by its people, the arcane power it held was nowhere to be seen while holding the sword. Only one who mastered Arcane could had use the sword to its full potential.
Thus, the sword was mostly useless to all. A relic, of low extraction; a useless gift, for a thankless task.
But I doubt The Aristocrat cared much for any of that. He was more concerned with the prison.
The Aristocrat. Source : screenshot by me.
The Aristocrat takes pity, helps the Eochaid children
As Godfrey was squeezed in his decisions, The Aristocrat, now warden of the Gaol, was also pressed as to how to deal with all those prisoners, some truly vengeful and desperate. The aristocrat was surrounded with forces beyond his control, with very little leeway as to discipline them, given the ruthless Vulgar Militiamen prancing about, abusing their power.
Overruled with forces that would squash him if given the chance, and unlikely to disobey a direct command in fear of losing both his standing and surely his life, the Aristocrat could only subtly spare help, fair judgement and at best empathy to others. Among all the prisoners, The Aristocrat favored the Eochaid heirs, as they were children, especially given that they were put in chains in such a rough environment, which was an absurd predicament for royal heirs. He favored them both as children and as nobles. I think he naturally saw fit to become their benefactor, allowing himself to help when he could. But, given the circumstances, such help was sparse. The Aristocrat had little opportunity to act. Thus, his help came in the form of [Glowstones] that he distributed to each of the children in an effort to alleviate their suffering; to replace the harshness of the prison with warmth, and most importantly light, silly games maybe, as to conjure the swallowing dark, hoping this would help them endure. However, it was not enough: in the end, the children died.
Last of their line.
Did they die in their cells? Out of exhaustion or terrible conditions? Did they die at the hands of the Vulgar Militamen? Perhaps they tried to escape, but failed? Was it, perhaps, out of mistreatment from other prisoners, jealous ones, crazed ones, or both? Or some other unknown reason? Nobody knows. No one can know. One thing is sure: The Aristocrat found them dead, for he had three [Glowstones] still on him. He was prepared to lend help once again, even if faintly.
The Aristocrat, ridden with guilt, anger, sadness, complex emotions, took it upon himself to bury the children somewhere that was not this terrible prison. He wanted to give them a proper burial.
Thus, he went into the deepest reaches of the Gaol Cave; there, he found an exit, with a flowered cliff, facing the sea.
He chiseled three small tombstones, one for each of the children. Small, but solemn tombstones. Then, he dug.
He laid to rest the three children, further marking their grave with the [Regalia of Eochaid]; a sword that was gifted to him but belonged to them; a final reminder of their original home and of their ancestry.
Finally, The Aristocrat let himself go, facing the sea, still holding on to his three solar stones…
The Aristocrat, still holding the Glowstones. Source :screenshot by me.
A gaol, buried under the sand...
With the overseer gone, the gaol was left in disarray. Years later, perhaps hundreds of years later, a [Frenzied Duelist] exiled from the Caelid Colosseum was sent in to somewhat replace The Aristocrat and act as warden. Perhaps his madness would serve him there as strength to hold the prison down, control the Vulgar Militiamen. Perhaps not.
But still, then, all went for worse.
Godfrey’s lost his grace; his son, Godwyn, was assassinated; The Shattering took place. In all three events, the [Gaol Cave] was already a half-buried memory. Too far away and of too little importance…
Malenia faced Radhan; the Rot Flower bloomed; Caelid was transformed into the dead and bizarre land that it is now.
What led to the creation of the Gaol Cave was definitely forgotten. Perhaps it was used in the Shattering War, perhaps it was not. Eochaid, its land, and the fate of the royals, was definitely buried under the sand and the rot.
That is, until a lowly Tarnished happened upon the graves.
Source image : screenshot by me.
Epilogue: Elemer of the Briar, Lone Survivor of Eochaid
Elemer: out of town at the worst momentI believe Elemer (as a loner, like his people) was out roaming the lands while Godfrey conquered his. He then came home, came home to no home, and, vengeful, went on a personal quest to recover relics, equipment and other objects of Eochaid that were pillaged and traded away. I believe this pillaging was done by the Vulgar Militiamen and continued by merchants. This explains why Elemer singled out merchants and traders: they unjustly profited of the destruction of his homeland. I would go as far as to say that not only did they stole, sold and dispersed Eochaid goods, I believe the Great Caravan also destroyed Eochaid’s arts for its gems, which they adorned their hat, clothes and other apparel with. This gives reason as to why we do not find any authentic Eochaid relics other than Elemer’s equipment, which he slowly recomposed over time, and the Regalia, lost in the cave.
Colors and gems. Source image : montage and screenshots by me.
Elemer’s revenge, Elemer’s quest
Elemer, for revenge and as a mean to acquire back Eochaid culture goods, killed many merchants. However, he also must have sought information, as to inquire about trading routes. Elemer is not free of blame: he probably profited off his killings, living as a bandit. Nevertheless, killing and killing is not an effective strategy if your plan is to inquire about the whereabouts of specific items. You must also obtain information. Therefore (in between the killings) he must surely have sought out information, exchanging favors, intimidating surely, mostly merchants yes, but perhaps, also, royalty, nobility, all kinds of aristocrats, etc. Therefore, in his quest, he ended up intimidating sellers, buyers, law and order, truly living life as a criminal, as a bandit, alienating everyone, disturbing the peace and an entire business in the process. Thus, Elemer of Eochaid became infamously known as Elemer “The Bell Bearing Hunter”.
Elemer slowly upped his fame as “The Bell Bearing Hunter”, a lone survivor from a vanished kingdom, bent on revenge. But the Bell Bearing Hunter was the very definition of a bothersome foe. Imagine some hulking beast, with strange powers, on a quest to find something at the cost of YOUR life, poking his nose in everyone’s affairs, not afraid to kill and extremely good at it, slowly but surely drowning out all profit in the process.
Thus, someone stepped in.
Elemer “The Bell Bearing Hunter” caught. Embracing the Briar.
The one now infamously known as the Bell Bearing Hunter was either caught at the scene of a crime, betrayed, sold out by a contact he had, or all three.
We know the rest. Elemer was immobilized while in armor (most probably by a Leyndell Knight, or many, as some of them are strong enough to subdue Demi Gods, and subduing a fully armored and battle ready Elemer can’t be that easy); next, he was covered with the metal briar, and sentenced to death. He was sent out for execution in the declining Marais Castle. However, he managed to escape his apparent end by using his Eochaid skills, stealing, at the site of his own execution, the fabled Marais Executioner Sword he was to be decapitated with. He then managed to take control of the castle, and used it as a base of operations.
Elemer then went on killing, madder than ever, possibly even more fiercely, trading his fame as “The Bell Bearing Hunter” for the moniker of “Elemer of the Briar”.
Elemer went on his quest. However, the merchants he killed held less and less actual goods. Unbeknownst to him perhaps is that, concurrently, most of the Great Caravan merchants were buried deep underground, with the Frenzied Flame, and so was their sheer access to goods and the very quality of them. The Great Caravan were reduced to isolated peddlers in hard to reach regions; therefore, Elemer killed isolated peddlers in hard to reach regions, for meager reward…
Elemer’s quest: nobler than it seems? Alas, for naught.
Over time, perhaps Elemer lost his mind. Alternatively, perhaps he stayed completely sane. Then again, maybe Elemer was never “himself” again after his arrest, as we can clearly see, under the briars of his armor, how “twisted” his helm is. He maybe shared a fate similar to Vyke’s, losing his sanity in the process of being quite literally squeezed by a hostile force.
A twisted helm for a twisted mind ? Source image : screenshot by me.
One subsequent theory is that all of Elemer’s crimes, searches and killings were conjoined in one single effort: the hope that, one day, out of all the unjustly traded spoils of Eochaid, he would lay his hands on the lost Regalia, the treasured sword of his former home. Perhaps he wanted to be king, reform the land, and the regalia could serve that objective, serve as proof, as beacon. Perhaps Marais Castle could have become the perfect new starting point for a “New Eochaid”.
Or perhaps it had some sentimental value. Could Elemer be of higher extraction? Himself a royal heir?...
Unfortunately, how could he, or anyone at that point, know where the Regalia of Eochaid was? As we know, the sword was laid to rest with its royals heirs, far away, and far too long ago, in a forgotten jail-pit in what is now a rot-filled Caelid.
Thus, an endless quest, in a dying world.
Thanks, shout-outs and closing thoughts
Thanks to everyone who made it till the end. This conclude my interpretation of Eochaid’s lore.
Tl;dr:
Eochaid was a Caelid domain. The domain was destroyed during Godfrey’s conquest of the region, pillaged by the many, and had its royal heirs (children) die in imprisonment. Now, Eochaid only lives through two mementos: the Regalia of Eochaid, buried with the royal children at the end of the Gaol Cave, and Elemer of the Briar, who stayed his path on a never-ending quest to avenge the pillage of his former home.
Those who pillaged and profited off Eochaid’s fall were mostly merchants and traders (The Great Caravan). Elemer endlessly targeted and murdered them, receiving his name as The Bell Bearing Hunter, all in the hopes that perhaps, one day, among all of their spoils, he might recover enough of Eochaid’s stolen goods; maybe to restart the land, maybe for simple revenge, or maybe to finally find its people’s treasured sword : the Regalia of Eochaid.
Resources used:
The game obviously.
Fextralife.
Hawkshaw’s excellent Mapping the world video.
Smoughtown’s excellent Elden Ring timeline video.
Wikipedia.
Ziostorm’s video on irish influence.
Screen rant article on Elden Ring Irish inspiration.
2023.03.07 23:12 menorahman100 BAAL-GAD is LORD-GOD
BAAL-GAD (Heb. בַּעַל גָּד), biblical locality below Mount Hermon that was apparently sacred to Gad, the god of fortune. Perhaps the name of the locale means "Baal is fortune." Baal-Gad is described as the northernmost point conquered by Joshua (Josh. 11:17; 12:7) and, accordingly, the "land that yet remaineth" (i.e., that the tribes did not conquer), extends "… from Baal-Gad under Mount Hermon unto the entrance of Hamath" (Josh. 13:5) or, as in a parallel passage "… from Mount Baal-Hermon unto Lebo-Hamath" (Judg. 3:3). The exact location of Baal-Gad is not known, but the sources clearly indicate that it must be situated in the southern part of the Lebanon Valley, at the foot of Mount Hermon, not far from Dan. It has been proposed to identify it with Ḥaṣbayyā on the Ḥasbani River.
That there were minor Baalim also at Ugarit is indicated by a god list in Akkadian (see Ugaritica, 5, p. 44 ll. 4–10; reconstructed text) which after the great "Weather-god, Lord of Mount Ḫazi" presents six other "weather-gods," numbered two through seven. In the parallel Ugaritic list, which is unfortunately very fragmentary, the "Weather-god, Lord of Mount Ḫazi" apparently corresponds to Baal Ṣapān, while those following are termed simply Baalim (bʿlm). It may be, however, that these extra Baalim are Baal's attendants, mentioned as the seven or eight lads whom Baal is ordered to take with him in his descent into the netherworld.
To the earth Baal rained,To the field rained ʿAliy.Sweet to the earth was Baal's rainTo the field the rain of ʿAliy.
Before the discovery and recognition of this name in Ugaritic, H.S. Nyberg had restored it in Deuteronomy 33:12; I Samuel 2:10; II Samuel 23:1; Isaiah 59:18, 63:7; and Hosea 7:16. Since the Ugaritic verified the antiquity and authenticity of this divine name, additional instances have been alleged in the Psalter and in Job.A common designation of Baal in the Ugaritic myths is bn-dgn "son of Dagān"; but Baal is also considered the son of El who is called "Bull El his [i.e., Baal's] father; El King who begot him [Baal]" (tr il abh; il mlk dyknnh). Since El and Dagān are distinct deities, this seeming confusion over Baal's paternity needs explanation. A solution has been supplied by a tradition ascribed to the ancient Phoenician priest Sakkunyaton (Greek Sanchuniathōn) that when El-Kronos defeated Ouranos, he captured in the battle Ouranos' pregnant concubine and gave her to Dagān. The divine child was named Demarous, one of the cognomens of Zeus-Baal-Hadad. The Semitic original of this name has been recognized in one of Baal's names in Ugaritic:
Then said Mighty Baal:Foes of Hadd why haste ye?Why haste ye opponents of Dmrn?
(The name is to be connected with the root ‡dmr, "be strong, brave," and is probably the same as that of Abraham's son Zimrān (‡damarān), the -n afformative being preserved in the genitive case of the Greek form Demarountos). Thus, according to Sakkunyaton, Baal's natural father was Ouranos and Dagān became his foster-father, while El-Kronos effected the transfer. That Baal appears to be a relative newcomer in the Ugaritic pantheon has been generally recognized, and it may be that Sakkhunyaton's story about Baal's paternity reflects a mythologizing of the process by which Baal was integrated into the family of El.
The biblical allusions to YHWH's victory over the sea preserve echoes of the older exploit of Baal (cf. Isa. 27:1, 30:7, 51:9–10; Ezek. 29:3–5, 32:2–6; Nah. 1:4; Hab. 3:8; Ps. 74:13–14, 89:9–10, 93:1ff.; Job 3:8, 7:12, 9:13, 26:12–13, 38:8–11, 40:25). YHWH's victory over the waters is connected either with the rescue of Israel at the Exodus (Ps. 114) or with eschatological victory (Isa. 27:1). The eschatological traits were taken over with the Canaanite myths. The triumph of Baal recounted in the myths and perhaps reenacted in ritual drama gave assurance of help in the present and the future as in the past. The prize of the victory was kingship over the gods and the enthronement ritual guaranteed the natural order of life and the welfare of the society. The motifs of these myths were adopted and adapted in Jewish and Christian eschatology.
The longest of the texts deals with the construction of Baal's house on top of Mount Ṣapān. A complaint is made to Bull El, father of the gods, that Baal has no house like other gods. Apparently in anticipation of developments the artisan god Koshar had cast furnishings of gold and silver. Asherah, mother of the gods, was prevailed upon to intercede with El to gain permission for the building. El is praised for his wisdom in granting the request since now it is insured that Baal will give his rain in season. The building materials, gold, silver, and lapis lazuli, were procured and the architect-builder Koshar was invited to dinner and consultation. Koshar twice recommended that a window be installed and Baal twice vetoed the suggestion, although Koshar insisted that Baal would have to reconsider. Baal's objection to the window somehow concerned his three daughters and the sea-god (Yamm), but the text is broken at this point. (The suggestion that Jer. 9:20 presents a parallel is mistaken since the Ugaritic text mentions the sea-god and not Death (Mot) in connection with the window.) Baal's house was constructed in an extraordinary fashion. For seven days a fire burned inside the building, and when it subsided, the house was plated with gold, silver, and lapis lazuli. Baal rejoiced and celebrated with a banquet. After a sortie against the sea-god, Baal returned to his house and ordered Koshar to install a window; Koshar laughed, reminded Baal of the debate, and complied. Through the window, a cleft in the clouds, Baal gave forth his holy voice which convulsed the earth and sent his enemies scurrying to the hills and woods. Issuing a challenge to his enemy Mot (death), who presumed to rule gods and men, Baal dispatched his messengers to Mot's infernal, filthy abode, warning them not to get close to Mot's rapacious jaws.
The sequel to this action is furnished by the group of texts which recount Baal's confrontations with Mot. In the first encounter, Baal is invited to a banquet at which he is to be both guest and main course. Baal's response to Mot's invitation to come and be devoured is abject surrender: "Thy slave am I, thine eternal." Before descending to the realm of death, Baal copulates with a heifer and begets a male offspring. After a textual gap, there is a report that Baal's corpse has been found. El and Anath mourn violently, mutilating their faces and bodies. With the help of the sun-goddess Shapsh, Anath locates the dead Baal, carries him to the height of Ṣapān, and weeping buries him with funerary sacrifices. Ashtar the Awful (ʿttrʿrẓ) was then nominated to replace Baal, but when he ascended the throne, his feet did not reach the footstool nor his head the top and so he declined to reign on the heights of Ṣapān and descended from Baal's throne, but ruled over all El's earth. Since the root ʿtr in Arabic is connected with artificial irrigation, it is apparent that Ashtar's failure to measure up to Baal represents the inadequacy of irrigation as a substitute for natural rainfall.
Baal's sister-consort Anath demanded that Mot release her brother. Mot refused and boasted how he had mangled Baal. Anath then dismembered Mot, scattered and burned the pieces, and gave them to the birds. Baal's resurrection followed Mot's demise, the good news being transmitted through a dream of El:
In a dream of Beneficent El Benign,A vision of the Creator of Creatures,The skies rained oil,The wadies flowed honey.So I knew that Mighty Baal lives,The Prince, Lord of Earth, exists.
The fields were still parched from the drought and again Anath and Shapsh set out to find Baal. Next both Mot and Baal appear reconstituted and reactivated and again in conflict. They clash violently until both are prostrate and the Sungoddess warns Mot not to fight with Baal lest El hear and overthrow him. This time, Baal puts up a fight and holds Mot off in battle. Thus it is clear that Baal, representing the life-giving rains, fluctuates in his ability to withstand the power of Mot, who represents drought, sterility, and death.
Biblical narrative incorporates tales of Baal worship into the traditions of the wilderness wandering, thus tracing Baal worship to the earliest period of Israel's existence. At Shittim they attached themselves to Baal-Peor, ate sacrifices for the dead, and indulged in sacred sexual orgies (Num. 25:1–11; Ps. 106:28). Life in a land dependent on rainfall enhanced the appeal of the Baal cult and its pervasive influence persisted through the centuries, as the unrelenting protests of the prophets and the sporadic efforts at reform attest. Horrendous and repulsive aspects of the worship – sexual excesses and perversions (Isa. 57:3–10), perhaps including copulation with animals (Hos. 13:2) such as Baal himself performed in the Ugaritic myth – are depicted in the prophetic tirades. Virtually all reference to Baal's consort, the violent "Virgin Anath" – with whom Baal copulates by the thousand in one of the Ugaritic mythological fragments – has been excluded from the Bible, but the goddesses Ashtart (Judg. 2:13) and *Asherah (Judg. 6:30; II Kings 16:32–33) are associated with him.
The conflict of Yahwism and Baalism reached a crisis with Elijah's challenge to Baal's prophets to settle the question whether it was Baal or YHWH who really supplied the rain (I Kings 18). The spectacular victory for Yahwism did not have a lasting effect. Extra-biblical evidence for the flourishing Baal cult at Samaria in the ninth and eighth centuries B.C.E. was furnished by Harvard University excavations in the form of personal names containing Baal as the theophorous element, such as bʾybʿl, "Baal is my father," bʿl zmr, "Baal sings" or "Baalis strong," bʿl zkr, "Baal remembers," bʿl mʿny, "Baal is my answer," etc. Jehu's massacre of the Baal worshipers (II Kings 10:18–28) did not eradicate bull worship (II Kings 10:31). In Judah the murder of the queen mother, *Athaliah , and of Mattan, priest of Baal, and the smashing of the altars and cult images in the Baal temple (II Kings 11:18) did not wipe out the cult (II Kings 12:3–4). Ahaz fostered Baal worship (II Chron. 28:2); Hezekiah attempted to eliminate it; Manasseh his son again gave it royal support (II Kings 21:3); and Josiah in his turn purged the Temple of YHWH of the utensils made for Baal and Asherah (II Kings 23:4).
The contest on Mount Carmel was reported as demonstrating that Baal was an impotent non-entity and that the rain came only from YHWH. This viewpoint was developed as the basic and final argument against Baalism. With Baal's functions accredited to YHWH, it was natural and fitting that some of Baal's titles would also be taken over. Portions of ancient Baal liturgy were adapted to the praise of Israel's God, as the Ugaritic poems have shown. To accommodate Baal ideology to Yahwism required some radical transformations. The summer drought did not mean that YHWH had died (like Baal), nor did the return of the rains signal the resurrection. The rains were fully controlled by YHWH who called them from the sea and poured them out on the surface of the earth (Amos 5:8b; 9:6b). He could, and did, withhold the rain from one city and lavish it on another (Amos 4:7). None of the foolish practices of the heathen could bring the rains; only YHWH could and did (Jer. 10:11–13; 14:22). If the rains failed and drought and death came upon the land and people, it was not because Mot had mangled Baal and made the glowing sun-goddess destructive; it was rather YHWH's way of meting out merited punishment to a faithless and sinful people (Deut. 11:17; I Kings 8:35–36; Jer. 3:2–3). The continued worship of Baal was given as one of the causes for the destruction of Judah (Jer. 19:5ff.). Payment of the full tithe to the food stores of the Temple, some thought, would guarantee that YHWH would open the windows of heaven and pour down overflowing blessings (Mal. 3:10; cf. Avot 5:11 on the connection between tithing and rain). The prophet Haggai attributed the drought and scarcity in his day to the failure to rebuild the Temple (Hag. 1:7–11).
When the rain failed, it was inevitable that some would question YHWH's power and resort to Baal. In distress some would naturally revert to the old ways of reviving or reactivating the rain-god – prayer, mourning, self-laceration, dancing, and water-pouring (I Kings 18:26–28; Hos. 7:14–16). The right remedy, according to Israel's prophets, was to repudiate Baal completely and to seek and return to Israel's true God (Isa. 55:6–13; Jer. 4:1–2; Hos. 14:2).
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Baal Worship
Name and Etymology
The word baʿl, common Semitic for "owner, master, husband," became the usual designation of the great weather-god of the Western Semites. In spite of the fact that the word is used as the theophorous element in personal names, such as Eshbaal, Merib-Baal, Jerub Baal, it was long believed that the term remained an appellation and did not become a proper name, except in the case of the Mesopotamian Bel and in late theological speculation. The basis for this view was the fact that in biblical usage the plural of the term, with the article, "the Baalim," appears to designate minor local gods (Judg. 2:11; 3:7; 8:33), while the singular of the word in combination with other terms apparently designated minor or local gods, such as Baal-Berith, Baal-Gad, Baal-Hamon, Baal-Hazor, Baal-Hermon, or, in the feminine form, a goddess, Baalat-Beer, Baalat-Gebal. Further, in biblical usage when applied to the great weather-god, the singular regularly has the article, "the Baal," which suggests that the word was not regarded as a proper name. Nevertheless, despite the biblical tendency to avoid the use of the word as a proper name, it is now quite clear that by pre-Israelite times the term had become the usual name of the weather-god of Syria-Palestine. In the El-Amarna letters the logogram for the weather-god is conventionally read Addu, but that it is sometimes to be read Baʿluis indicated by the addition of the phonetic complement-lu, as well as by the names like Mut dIm written syllabically as mu-ut-ba-aḫ-lum. In the El-Amarna letters Canaanite clients addressed the Egyptian king as "My Baal, my Addu." In the Ugaritic mythological texts Baʿlu (bʿl) is the name of the god which is used more than twice as often as his next most frequent name, Haddu (hd). The latter name (Amarna, Addu) is to be related to Arabic hadda ("break," "crash") with reference to thunder. The variant form Hadad (hdd) is attested to only once in Ugaritic.That there were minor Baalim also at Ugarit is indicated by a god list in Akkadian (see Ugaritica, 5, p. 44 ll. 4–10; reconstructed text) which after the great "Weather-god, Lord of Mount Ḫazi" presents six other "weather-gods," numbered two through seven. In the parallel Ugaritic list, which is unfortunately very fragmentary, the "Weather-god, Lord of Mount Ḫazi" apparently corresponds to Baal Ṣapān, while those following are termed simply Baalim (bʿlm). It may be, however, that these extra Baalim are Baal's attendants, mentioned as the seven or eight lads whom Baal is ordered to take with him in his descent into the netherworld.
Other Titles and Epithets
Besides the names Baal and Haddu, the Ugaritic texts furnish a variety of other titles, such as "Mighty Baal" (ʾaliyn bʿl) and "Prince, Lord of Earth" (zbl bʿl ars). The latter title has a biblical echo in the corrupted form Baal-Zebub (II Kings 1:2ff.), from an original Baal-Zebul, which is preserved in this form in the New Testament (Matt. 10:25, 12:24; Mark 3:22; Luke 11:15, 18). A frequent epithet is "Cloud Rider" (rkb ʿrpt) which has an almost identical parallel in Psalms 68:5. A vivid description of theophany in a thunderstorm is found in Psalms 18:7–15 (= II Sam. 22:8–16). Of special interest is the designation ʿAliy (ʿly) which is twice applied to Baal in the Krt Epic:To the earth Baal rained,To the field rained ʿAliy.Sweet to the earth was Baal's rainTo the field the rain of ʿAliy.
Before the discovery and recognition of this name in Ugaritic, H.S. Nyberg had restored it in Deuteronomy 33:12; I Samuel 2:10; II Samuel 23:1; Isaiah 59:18, 63:7; and Hosea 7:16. Since the Ugaritic verified the antiquity and authenticity of this divine name, additional instances have been alleged in the Psalter and in Job.A common designation of Baal in the Ugaritic myths is bn-dgn "son of Dagān"; but Baal is also considered the son of El who is called "Bull El his [i.e., Baal's] father; El King who begot him [Baal]" (tr il abh; il mlk dyknnh). Since El and Dagān are distinct deities, this seeming confusion over Baal's paternity needs explanation. A solution has been supplied by a tradition ascribed to the ancient Phoenician priest Sakkunyaton (Greek Sanchuniathōn) that when El-Kronos defeated Ouranos, he captured in the battle Ouranos' pregnant concubine and gave her to Dagān. The divine child was named Demarous, one of the cognomens of Zeus-Baal-Hadad. The Semitic original of this name has been recognized in one of Baal's names in Ugaritic:
Then said Mighty Baal:Foes of Hadd why haste ye?Why haste ye opponents of Dmrn?
(The name is to be connected with the root ‡dmr, "be strong, brave," and is probably the same as that of Abraham's son Zimrān (‡damarān), the -n afformative being preserved in the genitive case of the Greek form Demarountos). Thus, according to Sakkunyaton, Baal's natural father was Ouranos and Dagān became his foster-father, while El-Kronos effected the transfer. That Baal appears to be a relative newcomer in the Ugaritic pantheon has been generally recognized, and it may be that Sakkhunyaton's story about Baal's paternity reflects a mythologizing of the process by which Baal was integrated into the family of El.
Baal's Residence
Baal's abode was Mount Ṣapān, identified as Jebel el-Aqraʿ ("Mount Baldy") some 30 mi. north of Ugarit. A god Baal Ṣapān was known from Egyptian and Akkadian sources before the discovery of the Ugaritic documents. In an Akkadian catalogue of Ugaritic deities Baal Ṣapān is listed as dIM be-el huršān ḫa-zi, "Storm-God, Lord of Mount Ḫazi" (see above; Ḫaz [z] i being the Hurrian name of Mount Ṣapān which survives in the Greek and Latin Kasios/Casius as the name of the storied mountain of the gods). Isaiah 14:13 alludes to this divine abode as "the Mount of Assembly in the recesses of ẓafon" (har moʿed be-yarkete ẓafon), the latter phrase being the equivalent of Ugaritic mrym ṣpn or ṣrrt ṣpn, the height or fastness of Ṣapān. The cosmic character of ẓafon leads to its use as a synonym for "sky" in Job 26:7: "who stretched out ẓafon on emptiness who suspended earth on naught." That ẓafon designated the "north" in Hebrew is presumably due to the fact that Mount Casius lies directly north of Palestine. In Psalms 89:13 ẓafon and yamin, in parellelism with Tabor and Hermon, hardly designate the directions north and south; yamin is almost certainly a corruption of Amana, the southern portion of the Taurus mountains, the alteration of ʾamanah to yamin being occasioned by the misunderstanding of ẓafon as the direction rather than the name of the holy mountain. In Psalms 48:2–3, Mount Zion is equated with "the recesses of ẓafon" (the phrase quoted above from Isa. 14:13). The association of the name Baal-Zephon with Israel's exit from Egypt (Ex. 14:2, 9; Num. 33:7) has been made the basis of intriguing speculation by Eissfeldt.Baal in the Ugaritic Myths
The bulk of the Ugaritic mythological texts is concerned with the activities of Baal. In correlating the sequence of events, Baal's victory over the sea-god, Yamm, is probably to be placed near the beginning of the action, since it was presumably this exploit which gained him the dominant position among the gods, just as *Marduk achieved preeminence by defeating the sea-monster Tiamat. With the help of wonder weapons supplied and blessed by the versatile Koshar (the craftsman god), Baal was able to defeat and rout the sea-god. It has been suggested that this clash was indirectly a conflict between Baal and El, with Yamm serving as champion for the venerable El, as the Titans fought on behalf of Kronos in the Greek version of the myth and the stone colossus Ulikummi for Kumarbi in the Hurrian-Hittite version which is roughly contemporary with the Ugaritic texts.The biblical allusions to YHWH's victory over the sea preserve echoes of the older exploit of Baal (cf. Isa. 27:1, 30:7, 51:9–10; Ezek. 29:3–5, 32:2–6; Nah. 1:4; Hab. 3:8; Ps. 74:13–14, 89:9–10, 93:1ff.; Job 3:8, 7:12, 9:13, 26:12–13, 38:8–11, 40:25). YHWH's victory over the waters is connected either with the rescue of Israel at the Exodus (Ps. 114) or with eschatological victory (Isa. 27:1). The eschatological traits were taken over with the Canaanite myths. The triumph of Baal recounted in the myths and perhaps reenacted in ritual drama gave assurance of help in the present and the future as in the past. The prize of the victory was kingship over the gods and the enthronement ritual guaranteed the natural order of life and the welfare of the society. The motifs of these myths were adopted and adapted in Jewish and Christian eschatology.
The longest of the texts deals with the construction of Baal's house on top of Mount Ṣapān. A complaint is made to Bull El, father of the gods, that Baal has no house like other gods. Apparently in anticipation of developments the artisan god Koshar had cast furnishings of gold and silver. Asherah, mother of the gods, was prevailed upon to intercede with El to gain permission for the building. El is praised for his wisdom in granting the request since now it is insured that Baal will give his rain in season. The building materials, gold, silver, and lapis lazuli, were procured and the architect-builder Koshar was invited to dinner and consultation. Koshar twice recommended that a window be installed and Baal twice vetoed the suggestion, although Koshar insisted that Baal would have to reconsider. Baal's objection to the window somehow concerned his three daughters and the sea-god (Yamm), but the text is broken at this point. (The suggestion that Jer. 9:20 presents a parallel is mistaken since the Ugaritic text mentions the sea-god and not Death (Mot) in connection with the window.) Baal's house was constructed in an extraordinary fashion. For seven days a fire burned inside the building, and when it subsided, the house was plated with gold, silver, and lapis lazuli. Baal rejoiced and celebrated with a banquet. After a sortie against the sea-god, Baal returned to his house and ordered Koshar to install a window; Koshar laughed, reminded Baal of the debate, and complied. Through the window, a cleft in the clouds, Baal gave forth his holy voice which convulsed the earth and sent his enemies scurrying to the hills and woods. Issuing a challenge to his enemy Mot (death), who presumed to rule gods and men, Baal dispatched his messengers to Mot's infernal, filthy abode, warning them not to get close to Mot's rapacious jaws.
The sequel to this action is furnished by the group of texts which recount Baal's confrontations with Mot. In the first encounter, Baal is invited to a banquet at which he is to be both guest and main course. Baal's response to Mot's invitation to come and be devoured is abject surrender: "Thy slave am I, thine eternal." Before descending to the realm of death, Baal copulates with a heifer and begets a male offspring. After a textual gap, there is a report that Baal's corpse has been found. El and Anath mourn violently, mutilating their faces and bodies. With the help of the sun-goddess Shapsh, Anath locates the dead Baal, carries him to the height of Ṣapān, and weeping buries him with funerary sacrifices. Ashtar the Awful (ʿttrʿrẓ) was then nominated to replace Baal, but when he ascended the throne, his feet did not reach the footstool nor his head the top and so he declined to reign on the heights of Ṣapān and descended from Baal's throne, but ruled over all El's earth. Since the root ʿtr in Arabic is connected with artificial irrigation, it is apparent that Ashtar's failure to measure up to Baal represents the inadequacy of irrigation as a substitute for natural rainfall.
Baal's sister-consort Anath demanded that Mot release her brother. Mot refused and boasted how he had mangled Baal. Anath then dismembered Mot, scattered and burned the pieces, and gave them to the birds. Baal's resurrection followed Mot's demise, the good news being transmitted through a dream of El:
In a dream of Beneficent El Benign,A vision of the Creator of Creatures,The skies rained oil,The wadies flowed honey.So I knew that Mighty Baal lives,The Prince, Lord of Earth, exists.
The fields were still parched from the drought and again Anath and Shapsh set out to find Baal. Next both Mot and Baal appear reconstituted and reactivated and again in conflict. They clash violently until both are prostrate and the Sungoddess warns Mot not to fight with Baal lest El hear and overthrow him. This time, Baal puts up a fight and holds Mot off in battle. Thus it is clear that Baal, representing the life-giving rains, fluctuates in his ability to withstand the power of Mot, who represents drought, sterility, and death.
YHWH Versus Baal
The worship of Baal in Syria-Palestine was inextricably bound to the economy of the land which depends on the regularity and adequacy of the rains. Unlike Egypt and Mesopotamia, which depend on irrigation, the Promised Land drinks water from the rain of heaven (Deut. 11:10–11). During the summer months the rains cease, but the temporary drought is no threat unless it is abnormally prolonged. Figs and grapes ripen during the dry season and the grain harvest also takes place before the rains resume. In a normal good year, when the rains come in due season, there is no hiatus in productivity, for the land yields its increase, the trees produce their fruit, the threshing overlaps, the vintage overlaps the sowing, and there is food aplenty, prosperity, and peace (Lev. 26:4–6). But not all years are good, and in a bad year, or a series of bad years, when the rains fail, the skies become like iron, the land like brass, and man's toil is futile for the earth will not yield its increase (Lev. 26:19–20). A series of bad years, which were apparently believed to come in seven-year cycles (cf. Gen. 41; II Sam. 1:21), would be catastrophic. Thus in any year anxiety about the rainfall would be a continuing concern of the inhabitants which would suffice to give rise to rites to ensure the coming of the rains. Thus the basis of the Baal cult was the utter dependence of life on the rains which were regarded as Baal's bounty.Biblical narrative incorporates tales of Baal worship into the traditions of the wilderness wandering, thus tracing Baal worship to the earliest period of Israel's existence. At Shittim they attached themselves to Baal-Peor, ate sacrifices for the dead, and indulged in sacred sexual orgies (Num. 25:1–11; Ps. 106:28). Life in a land dependent on rainfall enhanced the appeal of the Baal cult and its pervasive influence persisted through the centuries, as the unrelenting protests of the prophets and the sporadic efforts at reform attest. Horrendous and repulsive aspects of the worship – sexual excesses and perversions (Isa. 57:3–10), perhaps including copulation with animals (Hos. 13:2) such as Baal himself performed in the Ugaritic myth – are depicted in the prophetic tirades. Virtually all reference to Baal's consort, the violent "Virgin Anath" – with whom Baal copulates by the thousand in one of the Ugaritic mythological fragments – has been excluded from the Bible, but the goddesses Ashtart (Judg. 2:13) and *Asherah (Judg. 6:30; II Kings 16:32–33) are associated with him.
The conflict of Yahwism and Baalism reached a crisis with Elijah's challenge to Baal's prophets to settle the question whether it was Baal or YHWH who really supplied the rain (I Kings 18). The spectacular victory for Yahwism did not have a lasting effect. Extra-biblical evidence for the flourishing Baal cult at Samaria in the ninth and eighth centuries B.C.E. was furnished by Harvard University excavations in the form of personal names containing Baal as the theophorous element, such as bʾybʿl, "Baal is my father," bʿl zmr, "Baal sings" or "Baalis strong," bʿl zkr, "Baal remembers," bʿl mʿny, "Baal is my answer," etc. Jehu's massacre of the Baal worshipers (II Kings 10:18–28) did not eradicate bull worship (II Kings 10:31). In Judah the murder of the queen mother, *Athaliah , and of Mattan, priest of Baal, and the smashing of the altars and cult images in the Baal temple (II Kings 11:18) did not wipe out the cult (II Kings 12:3–4). Ahaz fostered Baal worship (II Chron. 28:2); Hezekiah attempted to eliminate it; Manasseh his son again gave it royal support (II Kings 21:3); and Josiah in his turn purged the Temple of YHWH of the utensils made for Baal and Asherah (II Kings 23:4).
The contest on Mount Carmel was reported as demonstrating that Baal was an impotent non-entity and that the rain came only from YHWH. This viewpoint was developed as the basic and final argument against Baalism. With Baal's functions accredited to YHWH, it was natural and fitting that some of Baal's titles would also be taken over. Portions of ancient Baal liturgy were adapted to the praise of Israel's God, as the Ugaritic poems have shown. To accommodate Baal ideology to Yahwism required some radical transformations. The summer drought did not mean that YHWH had died (like Baal), nor did the return of the rains signal the resurrection. The rains were fully controlled by YHWH who called them from the sea and poured them out on the surface of the earth (Amos 5:8b; 9:6b). He could, and did, withhold the rain from one city and lavish it on another (Amos 4:7). None of the foolish practices of the heathen could bring the rains; only YHWH could and did (Jer. 10:11–13; 14:22). If the rains failed and drought and death came upon the land and people, it was not because Mot had mangled Baal and made the glowing sun-goddess destructive; it was rather YHWH's way of meting out merited punishment to a faithless and sinful people (Deut. 11:17; I Kings 8:35–36; Jer. 3:2–3). The continued worship of Baal was given as one of the causes for the destruction of Judah (Jer. 19:5ff.). Payment of the full tithe to the food stores of the Temple, some thought, would guarantee that YHWH would open the windows of heaven and pour down overflowing blessings (Mal. 3:10; cf. Avot 5:11 on the connection between tithing and rain). The prophet Haggai attributed the drought and scarcity in his day to the failure to rebuild the Temple (Hag. 1:7–11).
When the rain failed, it was inevitable that some would question YHWH's power and resort to Baal. In distress some would naturally revert to the old ways of reviving or reactivating the rain-god – prayer, mourning, self-laceration, dancing, and water-pouring (I Kings 18:26–28; Hos. 7:14–16). The right remedy, according to Israel's prophets, was to repudiate Baal completely and to seek and return to Israel's true God (Isa. 55:6–13; Jer. 4:1–2; Hos. 14:2).
2023.02.07 13:57 dwredbaker 1st John 2:10
A. W. Pink
Chapter 19
Light and Love
1 John 2:10
"He who loves his brother abides in the light, and there is none occasion of stumbling in him."
The apostle continues to develop his theme of the relation and interrelation of light and love. As might well be expected, he had begun with a reference to "the love of God," for His is ever the fountain of ours, whether it be unto Himself or unto His children. As Calvin pertinently remarked, "He pursues the same metaphor. He said that love is the only true rule according to which our life is to be formed (verse 5); he said that this rule or law is presented to us in the Gospel (verse 7); he said lastly, that it is there as the meridian light which ought to be continually looked on (verse 9). Now, on the other hand, he concludes that all are blind and walk in darkness who are strangers to love. But that he mentioned before the love of God and now the love of the brethren involves no more contrariety than there is between the effect and the cause. Besides, these are so connected together that they cannot be separated"—so united that where the one is the other is found also.
More specifically: in verses 7-11 professing Christians are tested by their response to that divine precept which enjoins the exercise of brotherly love. It is made the criterion of one's being in the light or in the darkness. John began by reminding his readers that the commandment which he was pressing upon them was no invention of his, but rather what they had first heard from the lips of Christ (John 13:34). That it was the old commandment which required us to love our neighbor as ourselves, but which had been renewed by the Lord Jesus, perfectly exemplified by Him in His treatment of the apostles, and then enforced by new motives and considerations. Next he had declared that the claim made by anyone to being in the light while yet he hated his brother was a false one, for such conduct demonstrated that he was still in the darkness. Finally, he urges the duty of brotherly love by a high commendation of its exercise (verse 10), and utters a most awful denunciation upon the one who violates the same (verse 11). Such appears to us to be his train of thought.
It is important to take note of the tense of the verbs in our present verse, for a more severe and searching test of Christian profession is in view than in the preceding one: there, it was a question of being in the light; here, of abiding in the light. Thus it is far more than a single act or fleeting affection which is referred to—perseverance is what crowns an action. Yet another link with the context should here be observed. At the close of verse 8 it was stated that "the true light now shines," where the reference was more an objective one; now the subjective application is made thereof—shines in you, and so through you—and not simply upon us as in John 8:12. There is as much difference between external and internal light, and between intellectual and spiritual, as there would have been between the twelve spies returning with only a bare report of what they had seen in the land and their actually bringing with them clusters of the grapes of Canaan upon their shoulders—a beautiful figure of Gospel graces in the heart.
As 1:6-7, has revealed, to walk in the light indicates that one is regenerate and in fellowship with God in Christ. What, then, is the relation of love to light? It is twofold: an effect thereof, and a necessary means for preserving us in the light. "Light is essential to love, and love is inseparable from this light. Light is love's home, and love is light's offspring. Love is born in the light. We have only to know God to love Him, and we have only to see God's image in our brethren to love them. As the light transforms the chrysalis into the butterfly, so light creates love, and wings it for Heaven. Love grows in the light. It is a tropical plant, and thrives best in the meridian of spiritual life. Love loves in the light. When God's glory shines in the face of a Christian brother we cannot help loving him. In this sense we can love all through Christ. Onesimus the slave became in Christ Jesus a brother beloved (Phm 1). The nearest way to our brother is through the heart of Christ. Love conquers in the light. This light subdues the flesh and eclipses the glory of the world. Love abides in the light. It is lust that seeks the darkness. Those who love darkness rather than light show that their deeds are evil" (Levi Palmer).
Brotherly love is one of the blessed fruits which issue from a soul's enjoying communion with Him who is light. The exercise thereof is also essential to the maintenance of that communion, for where ill will is cherished against a fellow saint the Holy Spirit is grieved and communion with God is hindered. In verse 9 the existence and exercise of brotherly love is made a test of our being in the light, but in verse 10 it is both the effect and the means of continuing therein. As Candlish also pointed out, "The law of action and reaction is here very noticeable. Being in the light begets brotherly love. Brotherly love secures abiding in the light. For this brotherly love is love to the true light shining in my brother as in Christ. And such love to the true light, wherever and in whoever it is seen shining, as it shines in Christ, must needs cause me to grow up more and more into the true light, to grow up into Christ." Our affections ever follow our apprehensions, for the heart is reached via the mind, and therefore the measure of our love makes manifest the measure of our spiritual light.
It is no mere verbal claim which is here made, but something that speaks louder than words. It is far more than the use of endearing expressions by the lips being seen and felt in deeds. It is a real, active, benevolent affection, which suffers nothing in its object to quench the same. As hatred is a malignant disposition which fills with ill will against another, so love is a frame of mind that produces respect and esteem for another. As hatred is a murderous lust which seeks to injure, love is a principle which aims at the good of its object. That which is here in view is not a natural trait, but a spiritual grace, yes, the queen of the Christian graces. It is exercised in a great variety of ways: ministering to the body, comforting the mind, promoting the welfare of the soul. It is expressed in practical forms, as far as lies within the power of its possessor. Thus it supplies an external evidence of the inward reality of a real Christian profession, for such outgoings of good will fall more or less under the notice and observation of fellow saints.
"He who loves his brother" for Christ's sake, and for what he sees of Christ in him, loves him sincerely and cordially—"abides in the light." What a high commendation of brotherly love is this! He who freely expresses Christian affection unto fellow believers supplies clear evidence that he is a born-again person, in fellowship with God, for out of love to Him issues love to His children. Not only so, but he gives proof that he is walking according to the principles of the Gospel, that he is vitally influenced by the truth he professes, for holy love unto the brethren is a sure criterion of spiritual illumination. Without it he who speaks with tongues is as sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal. Why so? Because unless love inspires my testimony it brings no gain to those who hear it, but is lost on the air. One might be endowed with the gift of prophecy, understand all mysteries, be possessed of all knowledge, yet if he be devoid of love he is "nothing"—a spiritual cipher, contributing naught unto the edification of his brethren. Therefore his most imposing deeds will receive no reward in the day to come.
In that thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians a most sublime description is given of the nature, characteristics and workings of this holy and heavenly love. It is patient and forbearing toward its objects, refusing to take offence at a frown or word. It suffers long and is kind, being neither easily irritated nor repulsed by ingratitude. It is humble and lowly, for it neither envies the prosperity of others nor is puffed up by its own performances. It is unselfish and unselfish: "I seek not yours, but you" (2 Corinthians 12:14) is ever its aim. It "thinks no evil," harboring no doubts or suspicions, but places the best construction upon the words and actions of others. It rejoices not in iniquity but rather is grieved when the sins of a brother are apparent. "Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it" (Song 8:7), for that love which is the fruit of the Spirit "bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."
Such is this spiritual love in the abstract, and such is it concretely in its manifestations. Yet it requires to be borne in mind that 1 Corinthians 13 takes no notice of the hindrances which the Christian meets with in the exercise of his love from the workings of the flesh within him or from the opposition of the devil and his agents from without. Light is pure and radiant, but when it shines through a defective medium its beams are blurred. Fire burns and is hot, but when it encounters that which is wet and damp its action is checked. What love consists of in itself is one thing, the allowances which have to be made for our natural make-up, and especially for indwelling corruptions, are quite another. On the one hand we must not deny the fact that, so great is the change which divine grace effects in its subjects, it is likened unto the wolf being fitted to dwell with the lamb, the leopard lying down with the kid, the young lion and the fatling together (Isa 11:6); and on the other hand we are not to ignore the fact that the regenerate require to be exhorted: "Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice" (Eph 4:31)—set aside whatever corrodes your own mind or wounds the feelings of others.
Let not the reader forget what was pointed out in the preceding chapter on the first clause of the second half of verse 8, according as its verb admits of a twofold rendition—as the translators of the Authorized Version gave it: "because the darkness is past," and "the world passes away" (verse 17); the former having a dispensational reference to the relative darkness of the Mosaic economy, the symbols and ceremonies of the Levitical system having become obsolete now that they are made good in their antitypes; the latter rendering possessing a practical allusion to the experience of God's children. Though there still be much darkness in them, and though they are more or less influenced by the darkness now surrounding them, nevertheless, as they grow in grace, and in proportion as they enter into God's best for them, the darkness is passing and their path shines more and more unto the perfect day. Yet that perfect day is still future, and so is that complete conformity unto Christ which shall then be the condition of all the redeemed. Meanwhile the flesh opposes and none remains in the light fully and without intermission, and therefore none loves his brother perfectly. But as there ought to be an increase in knowledge and faith, so of love and all other graces.
It is just here that we see again the intimate relation between light and love. When my love to God cools and my communion with Him is broken, then affection for my brethren is proportionately affected. As Candlish pointed out, "It is in the darkness that injuries are brooded over and angry passions are nursed. If you, brother, and I are at variance, it is almost certain to be because there is some darkness about us that hinders us from seeing one another clearly. Let in the light. Let us see one another clearly. Differences between us may still remain, our views on many things may still be as wide as the poles asunder, but we see that we are men of like passions and like appetites with one another. The light shows us we are true brethren in spite of all." When love be in a healthy and vigorous state, we are far from taking offence at the manifestations of the flesh in a brother: rather will such move us to pray more earnestly for his refining and growth. Nothing is a more practical proof of love than to make supplication for those who slight and injure us; nothing is better evidence that we are in the light.
Our verse adds a further commendation or mentions yet an-other advantage resulting from the exercise of brotherly love: "and there is none occasion of stumbling in him." Not only does the expressing of this spiritual grace supply an evidence of regeneration, and is a means for maintaining our communion with God, but it also preserves from scandalous conduct. He who habitually shows himself disposed to goodness and mercy, and manifests a generous and self-denying affection unto his brethren, demonstrates that he is vitally influenced by the principles of the Gospel. True love will move us to dread everything which would hinder the spirituality of others, and therefore takes care to avoid what would be a stumbling block to them. The Greek word for "occasion of stumbling" is skandalos, from which is derived our English word "scandal," which primarily means a snare laid for an enemy. It is rendered "stumbling block" in Romans 11:9; 1 Corinthians 1:23; Revelation 2:14; and nine times is translated "offence," as in Matthew 16:23; Romans 9:33; Galatians 5:11. The general prevailing disposition of such a one's heart will prevent Satan successfully tempting him to the commission of any gross sin, and his deportment will be such that his fellows will not be evilly influenced by him.
There can be little doubt that when John penned the second half of verse 10 there was before his mind the closing part of Psalm 119:165, "Great peace have they which love your law: and nothing shall offend them," for his words tally exactly with the Septuagint translation of that verse, except that the apostle changes the plural "them" to him. Spiritual love is a wonderful preservative from and preventive of injuries. Those who love God's Law not only have "great peace" in their consciences and minds (for where the affections be set upon things above, the heart is content with whatever be its portion on earth), but "nothing shall offend," or as the margin of Psalm 119:165, reads, "they shall have no stumbling block"—nothing in God's providential dealings will scandalize them. Those who love God's Law are kept from the snares and temptations which the world is so full of, and which bring about the sin and ruin of so many. In the same way, genuine love unto the brethren induces a circumspect walk, delivering from those carnal and satanic pitfalls, because the light in which such affection dwells enables them to see and shun what would be an occasion of falling unto them.
Offences or scandals are of various kinds. Very often offence is taken where none is given. An outstanding example of this is Christ Himself. He is unto the believer "a cornerstone, elect and precious," but to the unbelieving and disobedient "a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence" (1 Peter 2:8). Such He was unto the Jews, for His humble appearance was a scandal to them: though He was exactly what their own Scriptures had foretold, yet He was not according to their ideas of what the Messiah should be and do. Christ crucified is still a stumbling block to the Jews, and to the Greeks foolishness (1 Corinthians 1:23). So too His doctrine was far from being agreeable to them: "the Pharisees were offended, after they heard this saying" (Mat 15:12), and murmured when He declared "I am the bread which came down from Heaven" (John 6:41). Some of His own disciples complained "This is a hard saying," so that He asked them "Does this offend you?" And many of them "went back, and walked no more with him." Much of the doctrine of Scripture is still a stumbling block to the proud and self-willed. The simplicity and spirituality of that worship which alone is acceptable with God is despised by those who crave pomp and pageantry. Yet such offence is causeless, arising solely from human depravity.
But there is also offence given where none is taken. Thus when Peter sought to dissuade Christ from His sufferings, He said "Get you behind me, Satan: you are an offence unto me" (Mat 16:23)—not that Christ was stumbled thereby, for His heart was immune to evil counsel and to the infection of evil example. From the language of Hebrews 11:24-26, it is clear that Moses was upbraided for turning his back upon such a "golden opportunity," and was severely censured because when he came of age, he "refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter; choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt." The godly are unmoved by the world's scorn, for they have respect unto a recompense greater than anything it can offer them. So too David, instead of being scandalized by the impiety of those surrounding him, and following their wicked course, exclaimed, "They have made void your law. Therefore I love your commandments above gold; yes, above fine gold." (Psalm 119:126-127). They who dwell in the light can see honor in disgrace, and beauty in the very things of God most despised by their fellows.
There are two principal things which the Devil employs as scandals or stumbling blocks to the saints: the persecutions and the enticements of the world—the one working on their sensibilities, the other on their lusts. By frowns and terrors of the world Satan seeks to draw us to think hardly of God and dislike the path of holiness. Therefore is it said concerning him, "whom resist steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world" (1 Peter 5:9). His temptations to the godly are often conveyed by afflictions from the unregenerate, seeking by means thereof to prevail with them to relinquish their Christian duties and grow weary of the ways of God. These tend the more to succeed if he can persuade them that they are the only sufferers. But there is no excuse for God's people being deceived by such a lie, for there is much in the Scriptures which is designed to remove from us the fear of the world, and to comfort us in trials and tribulations for Christ's sake, and such passages would be neither pertinent nor serviceable if there were no persecutions for the godly to endure.
The allurements of the world are more dangerous than its op-positions. Though at first the Lord's people may be discouraged and dismayed when meeting with unfriendliness from the enemies of Christ, yet "God gives more grace," and patience and fortitude from Him enable them to hold on their way. But the seductive snares of the world and its flesh-attractive baits do not drive the saints to their knees and cast them upon God as do its cruel slights and threatenings. Present and visible things have a far greater attraction than future and invisible ones unto all except the spiritual. Paul had to lament, "Demas has forsaken me, having loved this present world" (2 Timothy 4:10), and in all generations the servants of God have had to taste the same bitter experience. It is by the baits of sense that the majority of our fellows are prejudiced against the strictness of the Gospel's requirements, and a base opinion of the same is nourished in their hearts by the knowledge that such clashes with their own lusts. Esau preferred the gratification of his fleshly affections to the blessing of the Lord. How the exercise of brotherly love preserves from such snares will be more definitely pointed out in our next.
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Chapter 19
Light and Love
1 John 2:10
"He who loves his brother abides in the light, and there is none occasion of stumbling in him."
The apostle continues to develop his theme of the relation and interrelation of light and love. As might well be expected, he had begun with a reference to "the love of God," for His is ever the fountain of ours, whether it be unto Himself or unto His children. As Calvin pertinently remarked, "He pursues the same metaphor. He said that love is the only true rule according to which our life is to be formed (verse 5); he said that this rule or law is presented to us in the Gospel (verse 7); he said lastly, that it is there as the meridian light which ought to be continually looked on (verse 9). Now, on the other hand, he concludes that all are blind and walk in darkness who are strangers to love. But that he mentioned before the love of God and now the love of the brethren involves no more contrariety than there is between the effect and the cause. Besides, these are so connected together that they cannot be separated"—so united that where the one is the other is found also.
More specifically: in verses 7-11 professing Christians are tested by their response to that divine precept which enjoins the exercise of brotherly love. It is made the criterion of one's being in the light or in the darkness. John began by reminding his readers that the commandment which he was pressing upon them was no invention of his, but rather what they had first heard from the lips of Christ (John 13:34). That it was the old commandment which required us to love our neighbor as ourselves, but which had been renewed by the Lord Jesus, perfectly exemplified by Him in His treatment of the apostles, and then enforced by new motives and considerations. Next he had declared that the claim made by anyone to being in the light while yet he hated his brother was a false one, for such conduct demonstrated that he was still in the darkness. Finally, he urges the duty of brotherly love by a high commendation of its exercise (verse 10), and utters a most awful denunciation upon the one who violates the same (verse 11). Such appears to us to be his train of thought.
It is important to take note of the tense of the verbs in our present verse, for a more severe and searching test of Christian profession is in view than in the preceding one: there, it was a question of being in the light; here, of abiding in the light. Thus it is far more than a single act or fleeting affection which is referred to—perseverance is what crowns an action. Yet another link with the context should here be observed. At the close of verse 8 it was stated that "the true light now shines," where the reference was more an objective one; now the subjective application is made thereof—shines in you, and so through you—and not simply upon us as in John 8:12. There is as much difference between external and internal light, and between intellectual and spiritual, as there would have been between the twelve spies returning with only a bare report of what they had seen in the land and their actually bringing with them clusters of the grapes of Canaan upon their shoulders—a beautiful figure of Gospel graces in the heart.
As 1:6-7, has revealed, to walk in the light indicates that one is regenerate and in fellowship with God in Christ. What, then, is the relation of love to light? It is twofold: an effect thereof, and a necessary means for preserving us in the light. "Light is essential to love, and love is inseparable from this light. Light is love's home, and love is light's offspring. Love is born in the light. We have only to know God to love Him, and we have only to see God's image in our brethren to love them. As the light transforms the chrysalis into the butterfly, so light creates love, and wings it for Heaven. Love grows in the light. It is a tropical plant, and thrives best in the meridian of spiritual life. Love loves in the light. When God's glory shines in the face of a Christian brother we cannot help loving him. In this sense we can love all through Christ. Onesimus the slave became in Christ Jesus a brother beloved (Phm 1). The nearest way to our brother is through the heart of Christ. Love conquers in the light. This light subdues the flesh and eclipses the glory of the world. Love abides in the light. It is lust that seeks the darkness. Those who love darkness rather than light show that their deeds are evil" (Levi Palmer).
Brotherly love is one of the blessed fruits which issue from a soul's enjoying communion with Him who is light. The exercise thereof is also essential to the maintenance of that communion, for where ill will is cherished against a fellow saint the Holy Spirit is grieved and communion with God is hindered. In verse 9 the existence and exercise of brotherly love is made a test of our being in the light, but in verse 10 it is both the effect and the means of continuing therein. As Candlish also pointed out, "The law of action and reaction is here very noticeable. Being in the light begets brotherly love. Brotherly love secures abiding in the light. For this brotherly love is love to the true light shining in my brother as in Christ. And such love to the true light, wherever and in whoever it is seen shining, as it shines in Christ, must needs cause me to grow up more and more into the true light, to grow up into Christ." Our affections ever follow our apprehensions, for the heart is reached via the mind, and therefore the measure of our love makes manifest the measure of our spiritual light.
It is no mere verbal claim which is here made, but something that speaks louder than words. It is far more than the use of endearing expressions by the lips being seen and felt in deeds. It is a real, active, benevolent affection, which suffers nothing in its object to quench the same. As hatred is a malignant disposition which fills with ill will against another, so love is a frame of mind that produces respect and esteem for another. As hatred is a murderous lust which seeks to injure, love is a principle which aims at the good of its object. That which is here in view is not a natural trait, but a spiritual grace, yes, the queen of the Christian graces. It is exercised in a great variety of ways: ministering to the body, comforting the mind, promoting the welfare of the soul. It is expressed in practical forms, as far as lies within the power of its possessor. Thus it supplies an external evidence of the inward reality of a real Christian profession, for such outgoings of good will fall more or less under the notice and observation of fellow saints.
"He who loves his brother" for Christ's sake, and for what he sees of Christ in him, loves him sincerely and cordially—"abides in the light." What a high commendation of brotherly love is this! He who freely expresses Christian affection unto fellow believers supplies clear evidence that he is a born-again person, in fellowship with God, for out of love to Him issues love to His children. Not only so, but he gives proof that he is walking according to the principles of the Gospel, that he is vitally influenced by the truth he professes, for holy love unto the brethren is a sure criterion of spiritual illumination. Without it he who speaks with tongues is as sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal. Why so? Because unless love inspires my testimony it brings no gain to those who hear it, but is lost on the air. One might be endowed with the gift of prophecy, understand all mysteries, be possessed of all knowledge, yet if he be devoid of love he is "nothing"—a spiritual cipher, contributing naught unto the edification of his brethren. Therefore his most imposing deeds will receive no reward in the day to come.
In that thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians a most sublime description is given of the nature, characteristics and workings of this holy and heavenly love. It is patient and forbearing toward its objects, refusing to take offence at a frown or word. It suffers long and is kind, being neither easily irritated nor repulsed by ingratitude. It is humble and lowly, for it neither envies the prosperity of others nor is puffed up by its own performances. It is unselfish and unselfish: "I seek not yours, but you" (2 Corinthians 12:14) is ever its aim. It "thinks no evil," harboring no doubts or suspicions, but places the best construction upon the words and actions of others. It rejoices not in iniquity but rather is grieved when the sins of a brother are apparent. "Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it" (Song 8:7), for that love which is the fruit of the Spirit "bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."
Such is this spiritual love in the abstract, and such is it concretely in its manifestations. Yet it requires to be borne in mind that 1 Corinthians 13 takes no notice of the hindrances which the Christian meets with in the exercise of his love from the workings of the flesh within him or from the opposition of the devil and his agents from without. Light is pure and radiant, but when it shines through a defective medium its beams are blurred. Fire burns and is hot, but when it encounters that which is wet and damp its action is checked. What love consists of in itself is one thing, the allowances which have to be made for our natural make-up, and especially for indwelling corruptions, are quite another. On the one hand we must not deny the fact that, so great is the change which divine grace effects in its subjects, it is likened unto the wolf being fitted to dwell with the lamb, the leopard lying down with the kid, the young lion and the fatling together (Isa 11:6); and on the other hand we are not to ignore the fact that the regenerate require to be exhorted: "Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice" (Eph 4:31)—set aside whatever corrodes your own mind or wounds the feelings of others.
Let not the reader forget what was pointed out in the preceding chapter on the first clause of the second half of verse 8, according as its verb admits of a twofold rendition—as the translators of the Authorized Version gave it: "because the darkness is past," and "the world passes away" (verse 17); the former having a dispensational reference to the relative darkness of the Mosaic economy, the symbols and ceremonies of the Levitical system having become obsolete now that they are made good in their antitypes; the latter rendering possessing a practical allusion to the experience of God's children. Though there still be much darkness in them, and though they are more or less influenced by the darkness now surrounding them, nevertheless, as they grow in grace, and in proportion as they enter into God's best for them, the darkness is passing and their path shines more and more unto the perfect day. Yet that perfect day is still future, and so is that complete conformity unto Christ which shall then be the condition of all the redeemed. Meanwhile the flesh opposes and none remains in the light fully and without intermission, and therefore none loves his brother perfectly. But as there ought to be an increase in knowledge and faith, so of love and all other graces.
It is just here that we see again the intimate relation between light and love. When my love to God cools and my communion with Him is broken, then affection for my brethren is proportionately affected. As Candlish pointed out, "It is in the darkness that injuries are brooded over and angry passions are nursed. If you, brother, and I are at variance, it is almost certain to be because there is some darkness about us that hinders us from seeing one another clearly. Let in the light. Let us see one another clearly. Differences between us may still remain, our views on many things may still be as wide as the poles asunder, but we see that we are men of like passions and like appetites with one another. The light shows us we are true brethren in spite of all." When love be in a healthy and vigorous state, we are far from taking offence at the manifestations of the flesh in a brother: rather will such move us to pray more earnestly for his refining and growth. Nothing is a more practical proof of love than to make supplication for those who slight and injure us; nothing is better evidence that we are in the light.
Our verse adds a further commendation or mentions yet an-other advantage resulting from the exercise of brotherly love: "and there is none occasion of stumbling in him." Not only does the expressing of this spiritual grace supply an evidence of regeneration, and is a means for maintaining our communion with God, but it also preserves from scandalous conduct. He who habitually shows himself disposed to goodness and mercy, and manifests a generous and self-denying affection unto his brethren, demonstrates that he is vitally influenced by the principles of the Gospel. True love will move us to dread everything which would hinder the spirituality of others, and therefore takes care to avoid what would be a stumbling block to them. The Greek word for "occasion of stumbling" is skandalos, from which is derived our English word "scandal," which primarily means a snare laid for an enemy. It is rendered "stumbling block" in Romans 11:9; 1 Corinthians 1:23; Revelation 2:14; and nine times is translated "offence," as in Matthew 16:23; Romans 9:33; Galatians 5:11. The general prevailing disposition of such a one's heart will prevent Satan successfully tempting him to the commission of any gross sin, and his deportment will be such that his fellows will not be evilly influenced by him.
There can be little doubt that when John penned the second half of verse 10 there was before his mind the closing part of Psalm 119:165, "Great peace have they which love your law: and nothing shall offend them," for his words tally exactly with the Septuagint translation of that verse, except that the apostle changes the plural "them" to him. Spiritual love is a wonderful preservative from and preventive of injuries. Those who love God's Law not only have "great peace" in their consciences and minds (for where the affections be set upon things above, the heart is content with whatever be its portion on earth), but "nothing shall offend," or as the margin of Psalm 119:165, reads, "they shall have no stumbling block"—nothing in God's providential dealings will scandalize them. Those who love God's Law are kept from the snares and temptations which the world is so full of, and which bring about the sin and ruin of so many. In the same way, genuine love unto the brethren induces a circumspect walk, delivering from those carnal and satanic pitfalls, because the light in which such affection dwells enables them to see and shun what would be an occasion of falling unto them.
Offences or scandals are of various kinds. Very often offence is taken where none is given. An outstanding example of this is Christ Himself. He is unto the believer "a cornerstone, elect and precious," but to the unbelieving and disobedient "a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence" (1 Peter 2:8). Such He was unto the Jews, for His humble appearance was a scandal to them: though He was exactly what their own Scriptures had foretold, yet He was not according to their ideas of what the Messiah should be and do. Christ crucified is still a stumbling block to the Jews, and to the Greeks foolishness (1 Corinthians 1:23). So too His doctrine was far from being agreeable to them: "the Pharisees were offended, after they heard this saying" (Mat 15:12), and murmured when He declared "I am the bread which came down from Heaven" (John 6:41). Some of His own disciples complained "This is a hard saying," so that He asked them "Does this offend you?" And many of them "went back, and walked no more with him." Much of the doctrine of Scripture is still a stumbling block to the proud and self-willed. The simplicity and spirituality of that worship which alone is acceptable with God is despised by those who crave pomp and pageantry. Yet such offence is causeless, arising solely from human depravity.
But there is also offence given where none is taken. Thus when Peter sought to dissuade Christ from His sufferings, He said "Get you behind me, Satan: you are an offence unto me" (Mat 16:23)—not that Christ was stumbled thereby, for His heart was immune to evil counsel and to the infection of evil example. From the language of Hebrews 11:24-26, it is clear that Moses was upbraided for turning his back upon such a "golden opportunity," and was severely censured because when he came of age, he "refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter; choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt." The godly are unmoved by the world's scorn, for they have respect unto a recompense greater than anything it can offer them. So too David, instead of being scandalized by the impiety of those surrounding him, and following their wicked course, exclaimed, "They have made void your law. Therefore I love your commandments above gold; yes, above fine gold." (Psalm 119:126-127). They who dwell in the light can see honor in disgrace, and beauty in the very things of God most despised by their fellows.
There are two principal things which the Devil employs as scandals or stumbling blocks to the saints: the persecutions and the enticements of the world—the one working on their sensibilities, the other on their lusts. By frowns and terrors of the world Satan seeks to draw us to think hardly of God and dislike the path of holiness. Therefore is it said concerning him, "whom resist steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world" (1 Peter 5:9). His temptations to the godly are often conveyed by afflictions from the unregenerate, seeking by means thereof to prevail with them to relinquish their Christian duties and grow weary of the ways of God. These tend the more to succeed if he can persuade them that they are the only sufferers. But there is no excuse for God's people being deceived by such a lie, for there is much in the Scriptures which is designed to remove from us the fear of the world, and to comfort us in trials and tribulations for Christ's sake, and such passages would be neither pertinent nor serviceable if there were no persecutions for the godly to endure.
The allurements of the world are more dangerous than its op-positions. Though at first the Lord's people may be discouraged and dismayed when meeting with unfriendliness from the enemies of Christ, yet "God gives more grace," and patience and fortitude from Him enable them to hold on their way. But the seductive snares of the world and its flesh-attractive baits do not drive the saints to their knees and cast them upon God as do its cruel slights and threatenings. Present and visible things have a far greater attraction than future and invisible ones unto all except the spiritual. Paul had to lament, "Demas has forsaken me, having loved this present world" (2 Timothy 4:10), and in all generations the servants of God have had to taste the same bitter experience. It is by the baits of sense that the majority of our fellows are prejudiced against the strictness of the Gospel's requirements, and a base opinion of the same is nourished in their hearts by the knowledge that such clashes with their own lusts. Esau preferred the gratification of his fleshly affections to the blessing of the Lord. How the exercise of brotherly love preserves from such snares will be more definitely pointed out in our next.
2023.02.04 00:13 ElderOldDog I'm retired, so I have time on my hands . . . And I've come up with a question, or rather, an issue.
We know that mormons believe in continuing revelation because ghawd has told each and every living prophet that ghawd speaks to the people through him, the prophet. Mormons like this because it proves the church is true and has the added benefit of keeping us on the cutting edge of righteousness.
But let’s recall what happened in 1890 and why it happened… Yeah, Wilford Woodruff's Manifesto… The church had its world turned upside down, and the members hardly knew what to do.
The members knew their history, about ghawd telling Joseph Smith, “Hey look, big guy, you’re gonna have to take one for the team: I'm gonna need you to come in on Saturday to start taking additional wives because plural marriage is one of the key factors of Eternal Life. Yeah, I know it’s a toughie, but whatayagonnado!? It’s the law!! So, can you do that for me? Good!”
So Joseph girded up his loins and started pounding away at plural marriage. He was a trooper! The Great and Everlasting Covenant was back on Earth! D&C, Section 132 specifically uses this phrase, “Great and Everlasting Covenant”... And words have meaning, right?
But then JoJu died, and BY moved the church to Utah, where they built things up, including plural marriage, and in general, the mormons, and polygamy in particular, started pissing off regular, uninspired Christians! To such an extent that the Federal government passed laws outlawing plural marriage.
Naturally, knowing better than those unbelievers, mormon men kept pounding away at the Covenant... Until the pressure became so intense, Wilford Woodruff said, “No más!!”
There are some indicators that even if he meant it at that moment in time, he later went limp on the matter so that the Saints got their shizz back together and stiffened their adherence.
But then, it was all for naught because the Saints definitely meant it when the Second Manifesto was issued. The Great and Everlasting Covenant had yielded to the machinations of uninspired men and their laws.
(The issue arises, why doesn’t the church follow the Great and Everlasting Covenant in countries where plural marriage is legal? The church’s answer is that ghawd de-revealed the covenant, and it’s no longer something the church does…)
My main point is that the church recognizes governmental authority, and it even says so in the Articles of Faith.
So….. What if a southern state legislature, purely for the fun of sticking it to the church, passed a state law that no religious organization may ask, request, beg, or order that a member, to remain in good standing, must fork over any more than 5% of the member’s income during any fiscal period, and in any way forbid full participation in the religion for not paying more than that state-mandated figure...?
The precedent of the plural marriage debacle exists, indicating that ghawd will yield to governments, so members living in that state could NOT, in theory, be denied a temple recommend for paying only 5% tithing. Indeed, the case could be made that paying less than 5% cuts you off from the temple, but paying 5% puts you in compliance, and you ought to get all the benefits based on your adherence to state law!
What would be the follow-up? Well, the Federal anti-plural marriage statutes are still on the books. Back when the laws were passed, the church challenged them as being void because civil governments were supposedly unable to make laws about religion, but whatayouknow!? The SCOTUS upheld them! Would the current SCOTUS enjoy sticking it to the mormons? I don’t know.
Here's a church website article about Sec. 132. I cite it because the phrase "Great and Everlasting Covenant" is never printed throughout the article. Why? I think because they don't want ghawd to be embarrassed!
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/manual/doctrine-and-covenants-student-manual/section-132-marriage-an-eternal-covenant?lang=eng
Ghawd had his Great and Everlasting Covenant shot down in flames, and mormon leadership does not seem to want to make it a point of this. Words have meaning: Joseph Smith said “Great and Everlasting” was revealed to him by ghawd... Does it mean the later actions of the American government caught ghawd by surprise? Did ghawd have to tell Woodrow, “Wow, I didn’t see that coming! I guess I’m gonna have to repeal the Great and Everlasting Covenant… Bummer!!”
I can just hear the Conference talk wherein residents of my mythical southern state are encouraged to do the right thing lest they cheat themselves out of all the blessings.
I say these things in the name of the second most important person in history, joseph Smith, amen.
submitted by ElderOldDog to exmormon [link] [comments]
But let’s recall what happened in 1890 and why it happened… Yeah, Wilford Woodruff's Manifesto… The church had its world turned upside down, and the members hardly knew what to do.
The members knew their history, about ghawd telling Joseph Smith, “Hey look, big guy, you’re gonna have to take one for the team: I'm gonna need you to come in on Saturday to start taking additional wives because plural marriage is one of the key factors of Eternal Life. Yeah, I know it’s a toughie, but whatayagonnado!? It’s the law!! So, can you do that for me? Good!”
So Joseph girded up his loins and started pounding away at plural marriage. He was a trooper! The Great and Everlasting Covenant was back on Earth! D&C, Section 132 specifically uses this phrase, “Great and Everlasting Covenant”... And words have meaning, right?
But then JoJu died, and BY moved the church to Utah, where they built things up, including plural marriage, and in general, the mormons, and polygamy in particular, started pissing off regular, uninspired Christians! To such an extent that the Federal government passed laws outlawing plural marriage.
Naturally, knowing better than those unbelievers, mormon men kept pounding away at the Covenant... Until the pressure became so intense, Wilford Woodruff said, “No más!!”
There are some indicators that even if he meant it at that moment in time, he later went limp on the matter so that the Saints got their shizz back together and stiffened their adherence.
But then, it was all for naught because the Saints definitely meant it when the Second Manifesto was issued. The Great and Everlasting Covenant had yielded to the machinations of uninspired men and their laws.
(The issue arises, why doesn’t the church follow the Great and Everlasting Covenant in countries where plural marriage is legal? The church’s answer is that ghawd de-revealed the covenant, and it’s no longer something the church does…)
My main point is that the church recognizes governmental authority, and it even says so in the Articles of Faith.
So….. What if a southern state legislature, purely for the fun of sticking it to the church, passed a state law that no religious organization may ask, request, beg, or order that a member, to remain in good standing, must fork over any more than 5% of the member’s income during any fiscal period, and in any way forbid full participation in the religion for not paying more than that state-mandated figure...?
The precedent of the plural marriage debacle exists, indicating that ghawd will yield to governments, so members living in that state could NOT, in theory, be denied a temple recommend for paying only 5% tithing. Indeed, the case could be made that paying less than 5% cuts you off from the temple, but paying 5% puts you in compliance, and you ought to get all the benefits based on your adherence to state law!
What would be the follow-up? Well, the Federal anti-plural marriage statutes are still on the books. Back when the laws were passed, the church challenged them as being void because civil governments were supposedly unable to make laws about religion, but whatayouknow!? The SCOTUS upheld them! Would the current SCOTUS enjoy sticking it to the mormons? I don’t know.
Here's a church website article about Sec. 132. I cite it because the phrase "Great and Everlasting Covenant" is never printed throughout the article. Why? I think because they don't want ghawd to be embarrassed!
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/manual/doctrine-and-covenants-student-manual/section-132-marriage-an-eternal-covenant?lang=eng
Ghawd had his Great and Everlasting Covenant shot down in flames, and mormon leadership does not seem to want to make it a point of this. Words have meaning: Joseph Smith said “Great and Everlasting” was revealed to him by ghawd... Does it mean the later actions of the American government caught ghawd by surprise? Did ghawd have to tell Woodrow, “Wow, I didn’t see that coming! I guess I’m gonna have to repeal the Great and Everlasting Covenant… Bummer!!”
I can just hear the Conference talk wherein residents of my mythical southern state are encouraged to do the right thing lest they cheat themselves out of all the blessings.
I say these things in the name of the second most important person in history, joseph Smith, amen.
2023.01.13 14:35 NefariousnessNo2484 Did we choose to be born?
Hi All. I was reading in Gate of the Heart by Nader Saiedi and came across this passage:
The Bab explains that the knowledge of the secret of Destiny is concealed from the people:
Thus 'Ali, peace be upon Him, said: "Verily, Destiny is a mystery among the mysteries of God and a guarded fort among His preserved fortresses. It is veiled within the exalted veil of God, wrapped up away from the eyes of the creatures, sealed by the divine seal, and unreachable in the knowledge of God. Thus, God hath unburdened humans from its knowledge, and destined it to be exalted above their testimonies and the limits of their minds.... It is a bountiful, surging ocean, which belongeth solely to God, exalted be His name and glory! Its fathomless depths extend between the heavens and the earth, its width between the East and the West. It is dark as the dusky night, filled with whales and serpents. At one time it riseth and at another it falleth. In its depths there shineth a Sun. It behooveth none to fathom its mystery except the One, the Incomparable." (The Báb, Tafsír-i-Há: INBA 86:116)
But then the Bab explains the mystery of Destiny as follows:
And the truth of this mystery is that none can behold the manifestation of the Action of God, as it befitteth Him, save through the very manifestation of the free choice of the things themselves.... Verily, at the time of action, the human being is the agent, who acteth by virtue of the Destiny- ordaining Action of the All-Knowing, the All-Informed.... Indeed, that free choice is bound to the existence of each thing, and naught is called into existence except through its free choice. Verily, at the primordial moment of choice, when God said unto the thing, "Am I not your Lord?" it would not have replied, "Yea," had it been deprived of freedom of choice. (The Báb, Tafsír-i-Há: INBA 86:116-117)
The Bab's interactive approach to human action is reflected in His reinterpretation of an Islamic Tradition which is usually taken as a definitive argument for total determinism. The Tradition says: "The wicked is wicked in the womb of his mother, and the just is just in the womb of his mother." The literal meaning of this Tradition seems to deny any sense of human freedom. But the Bab interprets this Tradition in a way that indicates an interaction between the divine effulgence and human choice:
It is in the station of Destiny that pluralities appear, lights are distinguished from shadows, and essences are differentiated from attributes. It is by virtue of this station that the wicked becometh wicked on account of his free choice, and the just becometh just, through the grace of God, on account of his free choice. Thus Destiny is "the womb of the pure realm of contingency" and "the most great depth".... Verily, the reason for the manifestation of these distinctions in the station of Destiny is the very manifestation of freedom inasmuch as, verily, naught cometh into being in the world save through its own free choice. Though it is created free even in the station of the Will, its freedom is not reckoned by anyone except the Subtile, the All-Perceiving. The same is true with regard to the second station, for the aspect of the acceptance of good and evil is the third station, which cannot appear except after the union of the previous two stations [Will and Determination]. (The Báb, Tafsír-i-Ḥadíth-i- 'Allamaní Akhí Rasúlu'lláh, INBA 14:422) (Nader Saiedi, Gate of the Heart, p. 212-214)
Maybe I am misinterpreting this but it sounds like we choose to come here. I have also read from Shoghi Effendi that the soul starts with conception.
With regard to the soul of man. According to the Baha’i Teachings the human soul starts with the formation of the human embryo, and continues to develop and pass through endless stages of existence after its separation from the body. Its progress is thus infinite. (Letter on behalf of Shoghi Effendi, 31 December 1937)
Regarding your question concerning the passage in 'Seven Valleys' referring to pre-existence. This in no way presupposes the existence of the individual soul before conception. The term has not been absolutely accurately translated, and what is meant is that man's soul is the repository of the ancient, Divine mysteries of God. (From a letter written on behalf of the Guardian to an individual believer, January 5, 1948)
So I am wondering how can we choose to come to this physical reality if, when our soul is created, we are already essentially in this physical reality? Does anyone else have any thoughts or any other writings on this? Thanks!
submitted by NefariousnessNo2484 to bahai [link] [comments]
The Bab explains that the knowledge of the secret of Destiny is concealed from the people:
Thus 'Ali, peace be upon Him, said: "Verily, Destiny is a mystery among the mysteries of God and a guarded fort among His preserved fortresses. It is veiled within the exalted veil of God, wrapped up away from the eyes of the creatures, sealed by the divine seal, and unreachable in the knowledge of God. Thus, God hath unburdened humans from its knowledge, and destined it to be exalted above their testimonies and the limits of their minds.... It is a bountiful, surging ocean, which belongeth solely to God, exalted be His name and glory! Its fathomless depths extend between the heavens and the earth, its width between the East and the West. It is dark as the dusky night, filled with whales and serpents. At one time it riseth and at another it falleth. In its depths there shineth a Sun. It behooveth none to fathom its mystery except the One, the Incomparable." (The Báb, Tafsír-i-Há: INBA 86:116)
But then the Bab explains the mystery of Destiny as follows:
And the truth of this mystery is that none can behold the manifestation of the Action of God, as it befitteth Him, save through the very manifestation of the free choice of the things themselves.... Verily, at the time of action, the human being is the agent, who acteth by virtue of the Destiny- ordaining Action of the All-Knowing, the All-Informed.... Indeed, that free choice is bound to the existence of each thing, and naught is called into existence except through its free choice. Verily, at the primordial moment of choice, when God said unto the thing, "Am I not your Lord?" it would not have replied, "Yea," had it been deprived of freedom of choice. (The Báb, Tafsír-i-Há: INBA 86:116-117)
The Bab's interactive approach to human action is reflected in His reinterpretation of an Islamic Tradition which is usually taken as a definitive argument for total determinism. The Tradition says: "The wicked is wicked in the womb of his mother, and the just is just in the womb of his mother." The literal meaning of this Tradition seems to deny any sense of human freedom. But the Bab interprets this Tradition in a way that indicates an interaction between the divine effulgence and human choice:
It is in the station of Destiny that pluralities appear, lights are distinguished from shadows, and essences are differentiated from attributes. It is by virtue of this station that the wicked becometh wicked on account of his free choice, and the just becometh just, through the grace of God, on account of his free choice. Thus Destiny is "the womb of the pure realm of contingency" and "the most great depth".... Verily, the reason for the manifestation of these distinctions in the station of Destiny is the very manifestation of freedom inasmuch as, verily, naught cometh into being in the world save through its own free choice. Though it is created free even in the station of the Will, its freedom is not reckoned by anyone except the Subtile, the All-Perceiving. The same is true with regard to the second station, for the aspect of the acceptance of good and evil is the third station, which cannot appear except after the union of the previous two stations [Will and Determination]. (The Báb, Tafsír-i-Ḥadíth-i- 'Allamaní Akhí Rasúlu'lláh, INBA 14:422) (Nader Saiedi, Gate of the Heart, p. 212-214)
Maybe I am misinterpreting this but it sounds like we choose to come here. I have also read from Shoghi Effendi that the soul starts with conception.
With regard to the soul of man. According to the Baha’i Teachings the human soul starts with the formation of the human embryo, and continues to develop and pass through endless stages of existence after its separation from the body. Its progress is thus infinite. (Letter on behalf of Shoghi Effendi, 31 December 1937)
Regarding your question concerning the passage in 'Seven Valleys' referring to pre-existence. This in no way presupposes the existence of the individual soul before conception. The term has not been absolutely accurately translated, and what is meant is that man's soul is the repository of the ancient, Divine mysteries of God. (From a letter written on behalf of the Guardian to an individual believer, January 5, 1948)
So I am wondering how can we choose to come to this physical reality if, when our soul is created, we are already essentially in this physical reality? Does anyone else have any thoughts or any other writings on this? Thanks!
2023.01.07 03:36 ReeeeeOh Prophets and Prophethood
All praise is to God, the Merciful, the Wise, who in His Wisdom sent prophets to mankind as blessed exemplars who lead us to Him, the One, and warn us of the folly of turning away from Him and His signs. May peace and blessings be on His final prophet Muhammed—for whom all was created—and on his companions and family—who are like the stars in the night sky, guiding us along the path of unity. The prophets are those who have been granted the greatest ranks and the greatest closeness to God. They are infallible, never sinning, live in a constant state of obedience, and teach mankind about our creator, so that we may know Him and worship Him. The prophets are divided into two categories: Nabi & Rasul. It says in Bad’ al-Amali:
“It is obligatory and compulsory to accept all Messengers
And the honourable Angels; they, of immense grace” (al-Ushi).
Translating the distinction between Nabi and Rasul as Prophet and Messenger, the translator comments:
“Also includes Prophets, even if only Messengers are mentioned in this line. Prophets [nabiy, anbiyā’a] are humans who receive Revelation [waĥy] even if they are not commanded to deliver the message; but Messengers [rasūl, rusul] are Prophets who are commanded to deliver the Divine Message to people and to invite them towards Islām.”
There are twenty-five prophets listed in the Quran.
Adam alayhissalam
Nuh (Noah) alayhissalam
Ibrahim (Abraham) alayhissalam
Ismail (Ishmael) alayhissalam
Ishaq (Isaac) alayhissalam
Yaqub (Jacob) alayhissalam
Yusuf (Joseph) alayhissalam
Musa (Moses) alayhissalam
Harun (Aaron) alayhissalam
Shuayb alayhissalam
Lut (Lot) alayhissalam
Hud alayhissalam
Dawud (David) alayhissalam
Sulaiman (Solomon) alayhissalam
Ayyub (Job) alayhissalam
Zakariyyah (Zechariah) alayhissalam
Yahya (John) alayhissalam
Ilyas (Elijah) alayhissalam
Al-Yasa (Isaiah) alayhissalam
Yunus (Jonas) alayhissalam
Idris (Enoch) alayhissalam
Dhu’l Kifl (Ezekeil) alayhissalam
Salih alayhissalam
Isa (Jesus) alayhissalam
Muhammad sallalahu alayhi wa salam
The first prophet was Adam alayhissalam, who was created from the earth without parents, lived in the garden, and was cast down to this world without having sinned. The final prophet was Muhammad sallallahu alayhi wa salam, who is the best of mankind and the beloved of God.
“The Peace of God be upon him and his Posterity!
So long as the tongue is fixed in the mouth,
May the praise of Muhammad be a source of delight.
The beloved of God, the most exalted of Prophets,
Whose pillow is the glorious firmament.
The earth-conquering horseman with his chestnut Buraq,
Which passed beyond the palace of the cerulean portico!” (Shirazi).
Al-Ushi, in Bad’ al-Amali, confirms this.
“The Seal of Messengers at the forefront of pre-eminence
The Prophet from the Hāshimī clan; the most handsome.
He is the leader of all Prophets, without contention
The Crown of the elect, the immaculate without a doubt” (al-Ushi).
The total number of prophets, however, is unknown, and it is safest to avoid ascribing a certain, fixed number to them, as al-Nasafi says.
“A statement of their number has been handed down in several traditions, but it is preferable not to limit their number in naming them, for Allah said, ‘Of some of them we have told thee their stories, and of others we have not’ (Qur’an 40:78). And there is no security in a statement of their number against there being entered in some who are not among them, or of there being excluded some who are of them” (al-Taftazani and al-Nasafi).
The prophets bring miracles as proof of their truthfulness. While their upright conduct and adherence to God’s commands are indicative of their exemplarily piety and devotion, miracles show that their claim of being sent by God to mankind is true. A miracle is an actual event which does something that is categorically impossible according to the laws that govern the universe. This proves prophethood since only the entity which governs the laws of creation could usurp them.
“with evidentiary miracles (al-mu’jizat) which contradict the customary way of things/Mu’jizat is the plural of mu’jiza and it is something that appears contrary to the customary way of things (al-‘ada) at the hands of one who claims the office of prophet, [and it happens] in such a way that those who deny are unable (yu’jizu) to do the same thing that he does when they compete with him. For if he were not aided by the miracle it would not be necessary to accept the statement of the prophet, nor would the veracious man be clearly distinguished from the false in claiming the office of Messenger” (al-Taftazani and al-Nasafi).
Creating a camel from stone, turning a raging fire into a garden, resurrecting the dead, and splitting the moon are examples of miracles performed by prophets. All of these happened in actuality, and not in metaphor. However, one must not make the mistake of believing that the prophets themselves have the strength and power to perform miracles on their own—there is no strength or power except for God—rather, the miracles are created by God for His prophets.
“O Prophet, shining like a lonely gem,
The fairest of Heaven’s highest diadem,
Look on men’s need and intercede for them.
Thou art the veil through which the light doth shine,
Nay, thou thyself the very torch divine—
Naught else behold these dazzled eyes of mine” (Zeb-un-Nissa).
May peace and blessings be on Muhammed (who is the best of creation!), his family, and his companions. Hasbunallah wa ni’am al wak’il.
al-'Arabi, Muhyiddin Abu Bakr Muhammad ibn 'Ali ibn. The Tree of Being Shajarat al-kawn An Ode to the Perfect Man. Trans. Tosun Bayrak al-Jerrahi al-Halveti. Cambridge: Archetype, 2021. Book.
al-Taftazani, Sa'd al-Din and Najm al-Din al-Nasafi. A Commentary on the Creed of Islam. Trans. Earl Edgar Elder. New York: Columbia University Press, 1950. Book.
al-Ushi, Sirajuddin Ali ibn Uthman al-Farghani. Bad' al-Amali. Trans. Abu Hasan. Ridawi Press, 2017.
Moradabadi, Sayyid Nayimuddin. The Starter's Guide to Islamic Creed Translation of Kitab al-Aqayid. Trans. Abu Hasan. Ridawi Press, 2020.
Shirazi, Muslih-ud-Din Saadi. Sadi's Scroll of Wisdom. Trans. Arthur N. Wollaston. New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1906.
Zeb-un-Nissa. The Diwan of Zeb-un-Nissa. Trans. Magan Lal and Jessia Duncan Westbrook. London, 1913.
submitted by ReeeeeOh to mawara_al_nahr [link] [comments]
“It is obligatory and compulsory to accept all Messengers
And the honourable Angels; they, of immense grace” (al-Ushi).
Translating the distinction between Nabi and Rasul as Prophet and Messenger, the translator comments:
“Also includes Prophets, even if only Messengers are mentioned in this line. Prophets [nabiy, anbiyā’a] are humans who receive Revelation [waĥy] even if they are not commanded to deliver the message; but Messengers [rasūl, rusul] are Prophets who are commanded to deliver the Divine Message to people and to invite them towards Islām.”
There are twenty-five prophets listed in the Quran.
Adam alayhissalam
Nuh (Noah) alayhissalam
Ibrahim (Abraham) alayhissalam
Ismail (Ishmael) alayhissalam
Ishaq (Isaac) alayhissalam
Yaqub (Jacob) alayhissalam
Yusuf (Joseph) alayhissalam
Musa (Moses) alayhissalam
Harun (Aaron) alayhissalam
Shuayb alayhissalam
Lut (Lot) alayhissalam
Hud alayhissalam
Dawud (David) alayhissalam
Sulaiman (Solomon) alayhissalam
Ayyub (Job) alayhissalam
Zakariyyah (Zechariah) alayhissalam
Yahya (John) alayhissalam
Ilyas (Elijah) alayhissalam
Al-Yasa (Isaiah) alayhissalam
Yunus (Jonas) alayhissalam
Idris (Enoch) alayhissalam
Dhu’l Kifl (Ezekeil) alayhissalam
Salih alayhissalam
Isa (Jesus) alayhissalam
Muhammad sallalahu alayhi wa salam
The first prophet was Adam alayhissalam, who was created from the earth without parents, lived in the garden, and was cast down to this world without having sinned. The final prophet was Muhammad sallallahu alayhi wa salam, who is the best of mankind and the beloved of God.
“The Peace of God be upon him and his Posterity!
So long as the tongue is fixed in the mouth,
May the praise of Muhammad be a source of delight.
The beloved of God, the most exalted of Prophets,
Whose pillow is the glorious firmament.
The earth-conquering horseman with his chestnut Buraq,
Which passed beyond the palace of the cerulean portico!” (Shirazi).
Al-Ushi, in Bad’ al-Amali, confirms this.
“The Seal of Messengers at the forefront of pre-eminence
The Prophet from the Hāshimī clan; the most handsome.
He is the leader of all Prophets, without contention
The Crown of the elect, the immaculate without a doubt” (al-Ushi).
The total number of prophets, however, is unknown, and it is safest to avoid ascribing a certain, fixed number to them, as al-Nasafi says.
“A statement of their number has been handed down in several traditions, but it is preferable not to limit their number in naming them, for Allah said, ‘Of some of them we have told thee their stories, and of others we have not’ (Qur’an 40:78). And there is no security in a statement of their number against there being entered in some who are not among them, or of there being excluded some who are of them” (al-Taftazani and al-Nasafi).
The prophets bring miracles as proof of their truthfulness. While their upright conduct and adherence to God’s commands are indicative of their exemplarily piety and devotion, miracles show that their claim of being sent by God to mankind is true. A miracle is an actual event which does something that is categorically impossible according to the laws that govern the universe. This proves prophethood since only the entity which governs the laws of creation could usurp them.
“with evidentiary miracles (al-mu’jizat) which contradict the customary way of things/Mu’jizat is the plural of mu’jiza and it is something that appears contrary to the customary way of things (al-‘ada) at the hands of one who claims the office of prophet, [and it happens] in such a way that those who deny are unable (yu’jizu) to do the same thing that he does when they compete with him. For if he were not aided by the miracle it would not be necessary to accept the statement of the prophet, nor would the veracious man be clearly distinguished from the false in claiming the office of Messenger” (al-Taftazani and al-Nasafi).
Creating a camel from stone, turning a raging fire into a garden, resurrecting the dead, and splitting the moon are examples of miracles performed by prophets. All of these happened in actuality, and not in metaphor. However, one must not make the mistake of believing that the prophets themselves have the strength and power to perform miracles on their own—there is no strength or power except for God—rather, the miracles are created by God for His prophets.
“O Prophet, shining like a lonely gem,
The fairest of Heaven’s highest diadem,
Look on men’s need and intercede for them.
Thou art the veil through which the light doth shine,
Nay, thou thyself the very torch divine—
Naught else behold these dazzled eyes of mine” (Zeb-un-Nissa).
May peace and blessings be on Muhammed (who is the best of creation!), his family, and his companions. Hasbunallah wa ni’am al wak’il.
References
al-'Arabi, Muhyiddin Abu Bakr Muhammad ibn 'Ali ibn. The Tree of Being Shajarat al-kawn An Ode to the Perfect Man. Trans. Tosun Bayrak al-Jerrahi al-Halveti. Cambridge: Archetype, 2021. Book.
al-Taftazani, Sa'd al-Din and Najm al-Din al-Nasafi. A Commentary on the Creed of Islam. Trans. Earl Edgar Elder. New York: Columbia University Press, 1950. Book.
al-Ushi, Sirajuddin Ali ibn Uthman al-Farghani. Bad' al-Amali. Trans. Abu Hasan. Ridawi Press, 2017.
Moradabadi, Sayyid Nayimuddin. The Starter's Guide to Islamic Creed Translation of Kitab al-Aqayid. Trans. Abu Hasan. Ridawi Press, 2020.
Shirazi, Muslih-ud-Din Saadi. Sadi's Scroll of Wisdom. Trans. Arthur N. Wollaston. New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1906.
Zeb-un-Nissa. The Diwan of Zeb-un-Nissa. Trans. Magan Lal and Jessia Duncan Westbrook. London, 1913.
2022.10.23 19:07 Guncaster Retribution Engine ARC 2 Ch. 56 - The Balances of History
First
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Codex
This story is mainly being published on RoyalRoad.
Artwork of Zelsys and Zefaris
Artwork of the Divine Emperor.
More artwork, this time of the archetypical locust drone.
Combat artwork for Engine of Retribution Pt. 2
Artwork of Zero
Artwork of The Lady in Red
Artwork of Alcerys
"Sect Founder" Artwork of Zelsys
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The duo then made their way towards the Fog Gate to the surface, Jorfr striking up further conversation as they went with a curious, slightly concerned query.
“...By the way, how’s your Spirit Animal? I noticed some slight warning signs - what with the pelt changing and all - but it seemed like you really do have it under control.”
“I wasn’t exaggerating when I said we have an accord,” Zel smugged. “Now, what was that you mentioned about berserkers again?”
“Hell if I know, I’ve only ever met a handful. What they do is a vastly more advanced and more terrifying form of the transformation I used in the pit,” the norseman laughed it off, only to shift into a serious, nearly somber mood in mere seconds.
“Some of them become so thoroughly transformed that they dwarf even that blood-red walking tank they paraded through the streets a couple days ago. I think the specific name for them would translate to “spiritwalker” in Ikesian. Regardless, does this place have some sort of bath, or is that the point of the bathhouse down the street?”
They crossed through the gate at this point, and Zel confidently answered as they reached the base of the stairwell, striding towards the basement door instead of the stairs: “Right on this floor… I think.”
A few steps later, another question came to mind: “Blood-red walking tank?”
“Yeah, big damn thing, I’d say about half again as tall as the other walking tanks, a good bit fatter too, painted blood-red with a white crossed-out zero on the chest. Moved more like a living thing than any of the Iron Brotherhood tanks I’ve seen,” nodded the norseman.
Finding the baths wasn’t exactly difficult, and, unsurprisingly, it turned out to be two vast, communal baths sized to accommodate the plurality of the sect’s expected numbers, with its own separate changing rooms - despite the fact there was only one huge pool, filled with pristine, steaming water, and not a speck of dust in sight.
They used the separate changing rooms as was appropriate, but neither bothered with modesty afterwards, as it seemed that they had gotten the same idea - to get the paint off as quickly as possible and be done with it.
As they walked out of the changing rooms buck-naked and half-covered in crusted, bloody paint, the two exchanged looks, though no eye-contact was made.
Zel felt the norseman’s gaze skim her naked body, and he made no attempt to hide his appreciation of her nude form - less than surprising, it was expected, in no small part because she found the walking ice sculpture of a man attractive just the same, but… That was where it ended. No tension, nothing.
One of the recliners next to the pool, curiously, had a number of personal effects next to it, as if someone had been using it recently. Perhaps Ozmir had been using the bath.
After ogling each other for a few seconds, they wordlessly got in the water, cleaned the paint off, got out, and got dressed. As they made their way to the surface proper, the question of Jorfr’s desire to join the sect - and the Slayer’s Guild to boot - came up. While Zel was in no position to answer the former, she had no reason to refuse his first request, and Jorfr soon departed stating that he had business to take care of.
Zel fully intended to continue prioritizing her preparation for Ubul, from ensuring she would be in peak condition when the blue moon rose, to getting up to date with the governor and trying to facilitate official military aid, with a first round of vetted recruits being the second on her list of priorities.
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Later in the day, Zel joined in overlooking the would-be recruit vetting process, finding it to be mostly as expected. It was taking place in the front courtyard, traces of the battle still visible, albeit only barely - the courtyard had, in however long she had spent away, been transformed into something… Strangely familiar, something that Zel recognized but couldn’t put a name on.
“Reminds me of training camp,” Zef remarked, walking up the stairs towards her.
The attribute reader from the apothecary had been hauled to the courtyard gate, and was being used to perform a basic background, attribute, and trait check upon the candidates. Those who met the Kargarians’ criteria were taken through a gauntlet of various tests clearly meant to estimate their actual combat ability, from raw striking power, to accuracy in the case of those who used ranged attacks of any sort, to full-on live sparring with multiple scenarios. Four circles had been marked out on the soil a little ways away from the training equipment for this purpose.
Of the four scenarios, two pitted the candidate against a single opponent and two against multiple. The first was a large, imposing Kargarian wielding naught but his own fists, and the second an armed, much lither and androgynous figure with a veiled face, bearing a wooden sword. Both wore variations of the same thing, a quite lavish uniform bearing the Krishorn family sigil, clearly insinuating they were some personal guards or mercenary retainers for the clan.
The third and fourth scenarios both involved noticeably less standout people, the intention clearly to test one’s ability to manage unfavorable numerical odds.
There were promising faces here. Some familiar ones, some unfamiliar, but a great majority of them were, to say it simply… Normals.
Zelsys looked over the courtyard, and she felt it. The contrast.
On one side was the churn of people, young and old, attempting to join a sect not just without possessing any capabilities beyond normal human ability, but being entirely unable to even throw a proper punch.
On the other, the steady progression of those already capable. Between, in the margins, struggle.
Some few, through confluence of natural ability or legitimate personal growth, passed the initial attribute check, and of them, a surprising number left before they even got to the sparring portion - not because they were compelled to, but because they failed to take proper care in the striking tests and hurt themselves. By her account, some two-thirds of the candidates fell under this classification. The others, though, held promise, and perhaps a scant four or five stood out such that with a mere glance Zelsys could discern a greater presence. The Mercenary, with his mismatched armor, fancy gun, and big stick was among them, alongside an coal-skinned, ember-eyed islander, and two Ikesians. The fifth… She wasn’t sure.
She turned her attention particularly towards how those who “failed” were treated, and had found relief in the fact they were politely recommended further training, joining the militia or, when it reopened, the Slayer’s Guild, and to look out for training programs that the Newman Family would run through the Guild in the future.
“Training programs?” she raised an eyebrow. It was among the sect’s business ventures explicitly mentioned in the Black Deed, true, and Zel had given it quite some thought, but had never mentioned it to anyone but… Zefaris. When Zel turned to look down at the blonde, she was met with a self-satisfied look staring back at her.
It stretched on for minutes and hours, and Zel took the opportunity to for once play the part of spectator, quietly making her way about the yard and deriving great amusement from the would-be recruits’ reactions to her mere presence. Some shrunk from her, flinching merely at her gaze, while others grew noticeably tense as they - understandably - tried to put on a good show for the sect elder. Those who had stood out to her previously maintained their focus, least of all the Mercenary in his methodical assault on his towering opponent.
A most curious candidate showed up near the very end, a dour-faced Kargarian with a large coat and a strong presence. The curious part came when he was asked to take hold of the attribute reader’s handle, and refused on the grounds that: “I don’t have arms.”
He wasn’t turned away in spite of this, with the Kargarians putting a bulky belt on him and connecting it to the machine, which facilitated the same functionality. In actual testing, his lack of arms made no difference - he left dents in his target block and kept up with his sparring partners all the same, employing a style heavy in kicks and headbutts.
At the end of the process, after several hundred applicants, the courtyard was an utter mess, a mess which, thankfully, the Kargarians cleaned up without needing to be asked. The rather pretty-looking nobleman who had helped deal with the mercantile plot lottery brought over the resulting dossiers, which they spent a good portion of the day going over. It was only then that the matter of the leyline well and the ritual which took place there came up, and Zel readily explained what exactly had transpired. In the time going over the dossiers took, Zel also went over her technique list, mainly because a good number of the dossiers were boring in their acceptability - that is to say, the people they detailed were capable, promising even, but what they had displayed in the first round of vetting didn’t stand out in any significant way.
THUNDERCLAP STING
Type: High Velocity Strike
Trigger: Full-body Gesture (Requires high localized muscular saturation via Thundercharger)
Effects: Kinetic Amplification B-, Kinetic Manipulation A, Precision Enhancement C
Advancement: Unknown
She couldn’t have articulated the satisfaction that washed over her when she saw that even if she had tried to do so. In fact, it was such that she entirely forgot to check the detailed readouts for All-severing Scream and Flying Thundersaw.
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The next day…
Yesterday’s spectacle had been more than sufficient to light a metaphorical fire under Makhus, the swordsman deciding that the sooner he got his weapon fixed, and the sooner he could get back to polishing Iron Philosophy, the better. Thus, he sought out the G-Kaisers.
The repair and reinforcement job on his blade turned out to be far cheaper and faster than he’d expected, with the smiths taking a look at it and just telling him: “Come back tomorrow, we’ll have him right as rain.”
When he asked the price, the quote he received was low enough that he felt comfortable just paying for it out of pocket, in no small part thanks to the success of Riverside Remedies; a decent chunk of change for sure, but one that would be easily covered by the profit-loss compensation they’d received from the caravan.
In the process of this errand, he also learned an interesting detail of arcane smithing.
“Speakin’ in generalized terms, there’s a couple stages of an object’s life when it is most receptive to magickal smithing. The first is the earliest, ideally right at inception, so to speak. The second is after it’s lived for a while, after it’s been used by people for a while, ideally one person if it’s somethin’ as personal as a blade. Even better if it’s already developed a soul of its own, which seems to be the case with your iron, though it’s quite young.”
“We’ll just do our usual cold-iron treatment, let our reactor do what it will, and we’ll see what happens. Long as you don’t decide to suddenly change how you fight I’d wager you’ll like what you get back from us.”
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Gen approached Sarz once their customer left the smithy, sighing, “...The price you quoted that guy covers repair and reinforcement, but not a cold-iron treatment.”
“I know. I’ll do it on my own time. Ain’t like it’ll cost us anything extra, reactor’s already runnin’ all day at full tilt to begin with and we’ve got plenty of sacred quenching oil leftover that’s too impure fer greater arcane smithin’ but just fine for a couple rounds of cold-iron treatment.”
Projects of fancy were nothing new from Sarz, and this one wasn’t the first of this middling sort he’d accepted in their time here.
“They’re good blades, Gen, and it ain’t like an undedicated wielder could light a soul in a new-model warknife besides. They’ve barely been in production for what, half a decade. Would be a rotten thing to just leave a good soldier languishing as mundane, chipped steel,” he would say.
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“Alright, let’s get these catalogued…'' a white-robed ankhezian muttered to himself in the comfort of his mountaintop manor, calmly scribing a seamless blend of High Ankhezian hieroglyphs and mnemoglyphs onto a solid blackstone tablet. He had just returned from a quite eventful country trip, and what he had seen left him in high spirits. Considering the depths of depravity and despair he had witnessed in the wake of previous, far smaller-scale conflicts, the outlook on recovery from the War of Fog was downright optimistic. Perhaps a few decades to a century, if things go well - though that was a truly cyclopean IF.
Year of His Glory, the Architect, 4713
Cultivation Branch VD62 Report No. 6
Monikers: Victory Demon, Victory Echoes, Hellfire Mantle
Cultivation Tier: Class 6
Observation Report:
My heretofore limited observation of the semi-novel “Victory Demon” cultivation branch has confirmed some aspects of my initial hypothesis, though its clear connection to the user’s mental state shows it to be more than a mere alchemically-induced mutation.
External observations of the transformation line up with early stages of the Supreme Path of Blazing Fires, but the underlying principles are clearly different in operation, more akin to a new type of arkatek power generator known as a “reactor”, wherein two or more destabilized essentia are made to react with an azothic catalyst to produce a greater quantity of energy than is input. How the Sage of Fog came upon the principles behind this technology are unknown, but his suspected transmigrator origin likely has to do with it.
I have observed seventy-three subjects in my expedition, thirty-six of which exhibited varying degrees of what I have dubbed “Paralysis Stage”, while thirty-five exhibited early stages of the “Victory Echoes” stage, but two appear to have made tangible progress beyond this - a promising start, considering the novel nature of this branch.
Subject SV has shown a surprisingly crude grasp of the Victory Demon state considering his status as the longest-term practitioner, and relies on alchemicals to stabilize it despite being among the most powerful users. While I have not witnessed it first-hand, Counter-propaganda Bureau records show that he can consume a highly toxic cocktail of heretofore unknown composition to produce a heightened version of the Victory Demon dubbed “Hellfire Mantle”. This state appears to be a high-taxation, high-output Ignis-aligned transformation that enormously amplifies the subject’s physical and Sonomantic capabilities, comparable to “The Third Incarnation of Blazing Fires: Furious Destroyer’s Armor”.
Without alchemical stabilization, it appears even the baseline Victory Demon state imparts considerable side effects, including pain and physical self-damage.
Contrastingly, Subject SG displays superior control of the Victory Demon state and psychological progression in line with one who has passed the Gates of Conceit, Trauma, and Contrition. He enters the Victory Demon state on a regular basis during physical training, and in my short time observing him, he has made quick progress towards what I believe to be a breakthrough in his specific branch. By my estimates, I suspect Subject SG may achieve a state analogous to “The Second Incarnation of Blazing Fires: Serene Blaze of the Incandescent One” in the immediate future.
Satisfied with this rough first draft, he filed the tablet away for review and editing by his personal scribe golems, his pride and joy, built around the preserved bodies of ravens that he had taught reading and writing before imbuing them with his own knowledge.
Despite being fluent in most contemporary, archaic, and dead tongues of note, the White-robed Brother chose this finicky blend of writing as a way to express his supreme calligraphy skills, and to create the veneer of being more timeless and unchanging than he truly was, on the infinitesimally tiny chance that someone actually learned of the manor, scaled the mountain, and survived the ordeals.
In truth, the White-robed Brother was just as much a person with whims, vices, and pride as anyone else. Even with multiple different means of averting death, he still aged in the sense that he changed over time - for to become truly unaging was to become just as far from the living world as the dead, just as the Immortal King upon his eternal throne.
The White-Robed brother had not known any of these wisdoms when he first grasped existence beyond death, when he built this eternally young body of his, piece by piece. Even in the century-long labor he had not glimpsed such truths, solely focused on defying the disease which had doomed his birth body to wither away in a way not even the Great Immortalization could counteract. This body, whose artifice he was so proud of, a perfect living sculpture of flesh that he had thought a unique until recently.
First the False Emperor, and now her… So similar, and yet so different.
The White-robed Brother moved on, calmly taking a long drag of his pipe, holding the herbal smoke in his mouth while setting it down, taking a similarly long sip of his tea, and only then swallowing as he set the cup down. Then, he prepped the next tablet and took up the stylus once again while his editor-golems scuttled off with the finished draft.
Still so many reports to draft up, from cultivation methods, to techniques, to technology and potential upcoming events in this grand churning of history’s fertile soil… It gladdened his old heart that mankind was becoming better as a whole over time, even if those who lived in the moment thought their trajectory the opposite.
Tags: Metabolic Modification, Pyrokinesis, High-energy Internal Alchemy, Physical, Humors-as-Fuel, High-risk Initial Bottleneck, Psychological Advancement, Semi-Novel Branch
Year of His Glory, the Architect, 4713
Cultivation Branch UX14 Report No. 1
Monikers: Stormsurge, Storm Engine
Cultivation Tier: Class 4
Observation Report:
An outsider form of Storm-soul Cultivation, derived from the semi-synthetic Fulguric Deiforms making up the “Living Storm” environmental weapons system, used exclusively by Subject ZN.
What I find most intriguing about this case is not the method itself, but the specific subject’s circumstances and the fundamental application of the method in resolving issues that have long been solved in different ways.
Subject ZN appears to have utilized the ability to override natural nerve impulses to invent an otherwise inaccessible, high-tier breathing method, accompanied by intentional self-induction of extreme heart-rates and full-strength contraction of musculature. In my most recent, close-up observation of the subject, I did not observe any of the aforementioned traits; upon gathering further intel from Subject AK - whose Clan was currently present in the locale - I learned that Subject ZN somehow came upon and put into practice the foundations of a scroll detailing the “Walking Way of the Despot of Self”.
How said scroll made its way into her hands is up to debate, though her acquisition of it coincided with her takeover of the former. Therefore, considering the fact it had not surfaced in the centuries of operation prior to the present, it is safe to assume that it was likely contained within the Willowdale Sect’s sealed libraries, or, more likely, a vault contained within and thus obscured from scrying by Xiuhtaca’s Hanging Gardens.
Subject ZN having developed some manner of direct communication between the Upper and Lower Cognitive Plane explains every inconsistency with her previously observed performance, and promises the potential invention of an entirely novel Twin Intertwined Branch. If this is the case, however, I suspect she likely possesses a robust pre-existing connection with the Lower Cognitive Plane, as she seems to have entirely skipped the initial stages of struggle for control. Her making contact with a Hyperborean Descendant - Subject JH - implies further promise, considering their practice of the Despot of Self-adjacent “Spiritwalking” cultivation branch.
Such free intermixing of cultivation methods has been entirely unprecedented since the height of the Enlightenment Era in the 2300s - conflict-induced breakdown of societal norms does not always have negative consequences.
I intend to prioritize further non-intervention observation of Subject ZN for the foreseeable future.
Tags: Fulgurkinesis, Elementalism, Deivorous Cultivation, Spiritual Cultivation, High-risk Initial Bottleneck, Resistance-type Advancement, Breath-as-Fuel, Altered Classical Branch
A slightly rough, stream-of-consciousness report, but that didn’t matter. The calligraphy was mainly for fun and to help transfer his thoughts on and memories of the events and topics described into mnemoglyph, and his editor raven golems would fix the wording.
Another toke of the pipe, sip of tea, and new tablet.
Year of His Glory, the Architect, 4713
Arkatek Development Report No. T3865-C9
Monikers: Fulgur-Igneic Reactor, God Furnace
Arkatek Type: High-output Long-term Power Generation, Class 7
“Where to start with this one…” he muttered to himself, mulling over the veritable maelstrom of thought swirling about in his brain pertaining to this particular topic. In the scant few minutes that the White-robed Brother spent ruminating as such, his brother came storming out of the manor, seething with open fury unbefitting his curt, but otherwise controlled nature.
“That’s it, I told you what I would do if you intervened. I tell you not to drop so much as a rice grain on the scales and you drop a whole damn sackful, you careless fool!” howled the Black-robed Brother as he strode across the courtyard, his fury betrayed by his failure to conceal his aura; that seething lilac glow spilling forth from his eyes, the veritable maelstrom of power swirling about him, so intense it would be visible even to a half-blind mortal. The White-robed Brother wagered that, were his brother to get any angrier, his affinity for the heavenly elements would begin to influence the weather.
Ever gracious in his own insufferable calm, the White-robed Brother took another toke of his pipe and began writing his next report, turning his gaze to meet his brother’s as he did so.
“Whatever could you be speaking of, dear brother?” he asked. “I did no more than observe the mortals in their daily goings-on and collect knowledge for my archives… Well, alright, I did indulge in my wandering musician persona, but I took care to only play contemporary music using contemporary instruments. I am innocent of whatever intervention you accuse me of, and I will repeat that under a truth geas if necessary.”
He could feel his brother’s rage and rancor waning, replaced by a familiar misture of frustration and annoyance as he started on an exaggerated tirade: “Was it not by your hand that the homunculus obtained the Great Work of Sagruhel Ironhand, Supreme Sword-saint, the Man-Become-Sword, Slayer of the World Serpent of the Sands, the Despot of Self? WAS IT NOT BY YOUR INTERFERENCE THAT THAT VERY SCROLL WAS CREATED?!”
“I know not what you speak of. Ironhand’s legacy is entirely his own, I was but a footnote,” lied the White-robed Brother with a smile, sipping his tea. “A convenient old man. Once more, I am innocent of what you accuse me of.”
“Again with the claims of innocence?!” the Dark-robed Brother laughed in disbelief. “Were it not for your interference, that thrice-damned “Despot of Self” would have succumbed to his curse as he should’ve! You not only pointed him the way out, but broke our most sacrosanct vows and outright gave him that eponymous Ironhand of his! I’ll never let you-”
“You’ll never let me live it down, I understand,” sighed the White-robed Brother, ceasing his work as he put down the stylus and stared up at his younger brother in earnest. “It worked out in the end, did it not? I took great care to ensure the WDX-79 Hyper Reflex Prosthesis had a proper anti-tamper seal and made him well aware that it would fall to pieces if he tried to reverse-engineer it.”
“That’s not my point and you know it, quit deflecting,” snapped the Black-robed Brother. “She has the scroll now, and has clearly put it to use - who knows what kind of effect this will have if she teaches the Walking Way of the Despot of Self to others?”
“Reiterating your point louder will do no good. I learned of the scroll’s presence on the Continent as recently as you did,” the White-robed Brother rebuked. “Last I knew, it was securely at its resting place within the Spear of Glass.”
“I checked, it’s still there!” exclaimed the younger one in exasperation. “Whatever you did - or failed to do, for that matter - resulted in multiple copies being made without our knowledge. Like it or not, this is your fault. This undue weight upon the scales must be redressed, whether I want it to be or not - the wall is coming down.”
“Come now, such drastic recourse is not necessary. If you insist on this course of action - and the repercussions it will entail through my resultant willingness to intervene in a similar manner - we can come to a more reasonable conclusion.”
“Very well,” conceded the Black-robed Brother. “Make your case.”
“I go inside the wall and manually reduce the Isolation Factor down to four. The gates will no longer selectively decide who they let through based on disposition and intent, instead employing a spiritual sieve to prevent entities beyond a certain spiritual volume from passing through, a ceiling which will naturally raise over time until the wall naturally drops down to an Isolation Factor of three,” the White-robed Brother suggested, taking great satisfaction in his ability to have kept the information that this was even possible from his brother for millennia - even more so considering the fact the wall was his brother’s Magnum Opus.
It had never come up, as while the Black Wall had been raised before, its function had always been permitted to run its course naturally. “To remove the wall altogether and so suddenly would be foolish, it would force too many hands. The war would start right back up all over again and who knows how many Exclusion Zone situations we'd have on our hands then, even if the Inheritors would be entirely justified in such desperate action.”
“That… Hm… Yes, I suppose it’s plausible, I had not considered such an option,” conceded the Black-robed Brother. “It IS true that, were the wall to be entirely removed as a factor, lesser forces within the Empire may take foolish action or even attempt to destroy the Ikesian territories altogether, thus causing yet more volatile recourse from both the Inheritors and the likes of the Merchants of Menace.”
So it was that, for once, the brothers agreed on something, both well aware that the other’s acquiescence only meant that some new, yet more convoluted scheme was afoot. Only… The Black-robed Brother clearly held a tribulation more severe in store than merely opening up the gates a little bit.
However, the White-robed Brother had one more thing to say, and a grim countenance came about him as his face hardened and his voice spoke of true atrocity: “Hedan. Do not misunderstand my intentions. I will not permit you to turn our works against the Inheritors without my knowledge, never again. Should you once more attempt something so foolish as setting loose the unfettered wrath of the Suncage Grid upon a people just because their fundamental ideology goes counter to your own, I will not hesitate to scour you so thoroughly from this world that not even your archetype will reincarnate, I will capture your Dying Breath and burn it to heat my tea, do you understand?”
“You would doom us both for some mortals?!” laughed the younger brother indignantly, but the surprise and amusement evaporated when his elder’s gaze only hardened. Hedan was serious and angry by nature, but when Wodan’s ever present aura of levity vanished, it was as if the heavens themselves darkened. From an indignant question, Hedan instantly moved to trying to justify his past actions, “Come now, surely you know that my intentions were not merciless extermination! Had I intended to wipe out the Hyperboreans, I would have aimed the Finger of the Sun at one of their population centers or a fault line in the ice sheet! I’ve told you a thousand times that my intentions were to ensure that they wouldn’t excavate one of the Fallen Heavenly Vessels, lest you forget that even we know not whence they originate.”
“I don’t care about your excuses. Even if a drastic course of action was justified, the mere POSSIBILITY of genocide is unacceptable. If our options are allowing the Inheritors to unearth truly ancient arkatek beyond even our expertise or denying them that jumpstart at risk of catastrophe, the latter is not a choice at all - I will personally make sure of that, even if I must embody a false deity to do so.”
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Previous
Next
Codex
This story is mainly being published on RoyalRoad.
Artwork of Zelsys and Zefaris
Artwork of the Divine Emperor.
More artwork, this time of the archetypical locust drone.
Combat artwork for Engine of Retribution Pt. 2
Artwork of Zero
Artwork of The Lady in Red
Artwork of Alcerys
"Sect Founder" Artwork of Zelsys
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The duo then made their way towards the Fog Gate to the surface, Jorfr striking up further conversation as they went with a curious, slightly concerned query.
“...By the way, how’s your Spirit Animal? I noticed some slight warning signs - what with the pelt changing and all - but it seemed like you really do have it under control.”
“I wasn’t exaggerating when I said we have an accord,” Zel smugged. “Now, what was that you mentioned about berserkers again?”
“Hell if I know, I’ve only ever met a handful. What they do is a vastly more advanced and more terrifying form of the transformation I used in the pit,” the norseman laughed it off, only to shift into a serious, nearly somber mood in mere seconds.
“Some of them become so thoroughly transformed that they dwarf even that blood-red walking tank they paraded through the streets a couple days ago. I think the specific name for them would translate to “spiritwalker” in Ikesian. Regardless, does this place have some sort of bath, or is that the point of the bathhouse down the street?”
They crossed through the gate at this point, and Zel confidently answered as they reached the base of the stairwell, striding towards the basement door instead of the stairs: “Right on this floor… I think.”
A few steps later, another question came to mind: “Blood-red walking tank?”
“Yeah, big damn thing, I’d say about half again as tall as the other walking tanks, a good bit fatter too, painted blood-red with a white crossed-out zero on the chest. Moved more like a living thing than any of the Iron Brotherhood tanks I’ve seen,” nodded the norseman.
Finding the baths wasn’t exactly difficult, and, unsurprisingly, it turned out to be two vast, communal baths sized to accommodate the plurality of the sect’s expected numbers, with its own separate changing rooms - despite the fact there was only one huge pool, filled with pristine, steaming water, and not a speck of dust in sight.
They used the separate changing rooms as was appropriate, but neither bothered with modesty afterwards, as it seemed that they had gotten the same idea - to get the paint off as quickly as possible and be done with it.
As they walked out of the changing rooms buck-naked and half-covered in crusted, bloody paint, the two exchanged looks, though no eye-contact was made.
Zel felt the norseman’s gaze skim her naked body, and he made no attempt to hide his appreciation of her nude form - less than surprising, it was expected, in no small part because she found the walking ice sculpture of a man attractive just the same, but… That was where it ended. No tension, nothing.
One of the recliners next to the pool, curiously, had a number of personal effects next to it, as if someone had been using it recently. Perhaps Ozmir had been using the bath.
After ogling each other for a few seconds, they wordlessly got in the water, cleaned the paint off, got out, and got dressed. As they made their way to the surface proper, the question of Jorfr’s desire to join the sect - and the Slayer’s Guild to boot - came up. While Zel was in no position to answer the former, she had no reason to refuse his first request, and Jorfr soon departed stating that he had business to take care of.
Zel fully intended to continue prioritizing her preparation for Ubul, from ensuring she would be in peak condition when the blue moon rose, to getting up to date with the governor and trying to facilitate official military aid, with a first round of vetted recruits being the second on her list of priorities.
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Later in the day, Zel joined in overlooking the would-be recruit vetting process, finding it to be mostly as expected. It was taking place in the front courtyard, traces of the battle still visible, albeit only barely - the courtyard had, in however long she had spent away, been transformed into something… Strangely familiar, something that Zel recognized but couldn’t put a name on.
“Reminds me of training camp,” Zef remarked, walking up the stairs towards her.
The attribute reader from the apothecary had been hauled to the courtyard gate, and was being used to perform a basic background, attribute, and trait check upon the candidates. Those who met the Kargarians’ criteria were taken through a gauntlet of various tests clearly meant to estimate their actual combat ability, from raw striking power, to accuracy in the case of those who used ranged attacks of any sort, to full-on live sparring with multiple scenarios. Four circles had been marked out on the soil a little ways away from the training equipment for this purpose.
Of the four scenarios, two pitted the candidate against a single opponent and two against multiple. The first was a large, imposing Kargarian wielding naught but his own fists, and the second an armed, much lither and androgynous figure with a veiled face, bearing a wooden sword. Both wore variations of the same thing, a quite lavish uniform bearing the Krishorn family sigil, clearly insinuating they were some personal guards or mercenary retainers for the clan.
The third and fourth scenarios both involved noticeably less standout people, the intention clearly to test one’s ability to manage unfavorable numerical odds.
There were promising faces here. Some familiar ones, some unfamiliar, but a great majority of them were, to say it simply… Normals.
Zelsys looked over the courtyard, and she felt it. The contrast.
On one side was the churn of people, young and old, attempting to join a sect not just without possessing any capabilities beyond normal human ability, but being entirely unable to even throw a proper punch.
On the other, the steady progression of those already capable. Between, in the margins, struggle.
Some few, through confluence of natural ability or legitimate personal growth, passed the initial attribute check, and of them, a surprising number left before they even got to the sparring portion - not because they were compelled to, but because they failed to take proper care in the striking tests and hurt themselves. By her account, some two-thirds of the candidates fell under this classification. The others, though, held promise, and perhaps a scant four or five stood out such that with a mere glance Zelsys could discern a greater presence. The Mercenary, with his mismatched armor, fancy gun, and big stick was among them, alongside an coal-skinned, ember-eyed islander, and two Ikesians. The fifth… She wasn’t sure.
She turned her attention particularly towards how those who “failed” were treated, and had found relief in the fact they were politely recommended further training, joining the militia or, when it reopened, the Slayer’s Guild, and to look out for training programs that the Newman Family would run through the Guild in the future.
“Training programs?” she raised an eyebrow. It was among the sect’s business ventures explicitly mentioned in the Black Deed, true, and Zel had given it quite some thought, but had never mentioned it to anyone but… Zefaris. When Zel turned to look down at the blonde, she was met with a self-satisfied look staring back at her.
It stretched on for minutes and hours, and Zel took the opportunity to for once play the part of spectator, quietly making her way about the yard and deriving great amusement from the would-be recruits’ reactions to her mere presence. Some shrunk from her, flinching merely at her gaze, while others grew noticeably tense as they - understandably - tried to put on a good show for the sect elder. Those who had stood out to her previously maintained their focus, least of all the Mercenary in his methodical assault on his towering opponent.
A most curious candidate showed up near the very end, a dour-faced Kargarian with a large coat and a strong presence. The curious part came when he was asked to take hold of the attribute reader’s handle, and refused on the grounds that: “I don’t have arms.”
He wasn’t turned away in spite of this, with the Kargarians putting a bulky belt on him and connecting it to the machine, which facilitated the same functionality. In actual testing, his lack of arms made no difference - he left dents in his target block and kept up with his sparring partners all the same, employing a style heavy in kicks and headbutts.
At the end of the process, after several hundred applicants, the courtyard was an utter mess, a mess which, thankfully, the Kargarians cleaned up without needing to be asked. The rather pretty-looking nobleman who had helped deal with the mercantile plot lottery brought over the resulting dossiers, which they spent a good portion of the day going over. It was only then that the matter of the leyline well and the ritual which took place there came up, and Zel readily explained what exactly had transpired. In the time going over the dossiers took, Zel also went over her technique list, mainly because a good number of the dossiers were boring in their acceptability - that is to say, the people they detailed were capable, promising even, but what they had displayed in the first round of vetting didn’t stand out in any significant way.
THUNDERCLAP STING
Type: High Velocity Strike
Trigger: Full-body Gesture (Requires high localized muscular saturation via Thundercharger)
Effects: Kinetic Amplification B-, Kinetic Manipulation A, Precision Enhancement C
Advancement: Unknown
She couldn’t have articulated the satisfaction that washed over her when she saw that even if she had tried to do so. In fact, it was such that she entirely forgot to check the detailed readouts for All-severing Scream and Flying Thundersaw.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The next day…
Yesterday’s spectacle had been more than sufficient to light a metaphorical fire under Makhus, the swordsman deciding that the sooner he got his weapon fixed, and the sooner he could get back to polishing Iron Philosophy, the better. Thus, he sought out the G-Kaisers.
The repair and reinforcement job on his blade turned out to be far cheaper and faster than he’d expected, with the smiths taking a look at it and just telling him: “Come back tomorrow, we’ll have him right as rain.”
When he asked the price, the quote he received was low enough that he felt comfortable just paying for it out of pocket, in no small part thanks to the success of Riverside Remedies; a decent chunk of change for sure, but one that would be easily covered by the profit-loss compensation they’d received from the caravan.
In the process of this errand, he also learned an interesting detail of arcane smithing.
“Speakin’ in generalized terms, there’s a couple stages of an object’s life when it is most receptive to magickal smithing. The first is the earliest, ideally right at inception, so to speak. The second is after it’s lived for a while, after it’s been used by people for a while, ideally one person if it’s somethin’ as personal as a blade. Even better if it’s already developed a soul of its own, which seems to be the case with your iron, though it’s quite young.”
“We’ll just do our usual cold-iron treatment, let our reactor do what it will, and we’ll see what happens. Long as you don’t decide to suddenly change how you fight I’d wager you’ll like what you get back from us.”
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Gen approached Sarz once their customer left the smithy, sighing, “...The price you quoted that guy covers repair and reinforcement, but not a cold-iron treatment.”
“I know. I’ll do it on my own time. Ain’t like it’ll cost us anything extra, reactor’s already runnin’ all day at full tilt to begin with and we’ve got plenty of sacred quenching oil leftover that’s too impure fer greater arcane smithin’ but just fine for a couple rounds of cold-iron treatment.”
Projects of fancy were nothing new from Sarz, and this one wasn’t the first of this middling sort he’d accepted in their time here.
“They’re good blades, Gen, and it ain’t like an undedicated wielder could light a soul in a new-model warknife besides. They’ve barely been in production for what, half a decade. Would be a rotten thing to just leave a good soldier languishing as mundane, chipped steel,” he would say.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“Alright, let’s get these catalogued…'' a white-robed ankhezian muttered to himself in the comfort of his mountaintop manor, calmly scribing a seamless blend of High Ankhezian hieroglyphs and mnemoglyphs onto a solid blackstone tablet. He had just returned from a quite eventful country trip, and what he had seen left him in high spirits. Considering the depths of depravity and despair he had witnessed in the wake of previous, far smaller-scale conflicts, the outlook on recovery from the War of Fog was downright optimistic. Perhaps a few decades to a century, if things go well - though that was a truly cyclopean IF.
Year of His Glory, the Architect, 4713
Cultivation Branch VD62 Report No. 6
Monikers: Victory Demon, Victory Echoes, Hellfire Mantle
Cultivation Tier: Class 6
Observation Report:
My heretofore limited observation of the semi-novel “Victory Demon” cultivation branch has confirmed some aspects of my initial hypothesis, though its clear connection to the user’s mental state shows it to be more than a mere alchemically-induced mutation.
External observations of the transformation line up with early stages of the Supreme Path of Blazing Fires, but the underlying principles are clearly different in operation, more akin to a new type of arkatek power generator known as a “reactor”, wherein two or more destabilized essentia are made to react with an azothic catalyst to produce a greater quantity of energy than is input. How the Sage of Fog came upon the principles behind this technology are unknown, but his suspected transmigrator origin likely has to do with it.
I have observed seventy-three subjects in my expedition, thirty-six of which exhibited varying degrees of what I have dubbed “Paralysis Stage”, while thirty-five exhibited early stages of the “Victory Echoes” stage, but two appear to have made tangible progress beyond this - a promising start, considering the novel nature of this branch.
Subject SV has shown a surprisingly crude grasp of the Victory Demon state considering his status as the longest-term practitioner, and relies on alchemicals to stabilize it despite being among the most powerful users. While I have not witnessed it first-hand, Counter-propaganda Bureau records show that he can consume a highly toxic cocktail of heretofore unknown composition to produce a heightened version of the Victory Demon dubbed “Hellfire Mantle”. This state appears to be a high-taxation, high-output Ignis-aligned transformation that enormously amplifies the subject’s physical and Sonomantic capabilities, comparable to “The Third Incarnation of Blazing Fires: Furious Destroyer’s Armor”.
Without alchemical stabilization, it appears even the baseline Victory Demon state imparts considerable side effects, including pain and physical self-damage.
Contrastingly, Subject SG displays superior control of the Victory Demon state and psychological progression in line with one who has passed the Gates of Conceit, Trauma, and Contrition. He enters the Victory Demon state on a regular basis during physical training, and in my short time observing him, he has made quick progress towards what I believe to be a breakthrough in his specific branch. By my estimates, I suspect Subject SG may achieve a state analogous to “The Second Incarnation of Blazing Fires: Serene Blaze of the Incandescent One” in the immediate future.
Satisfied with this rough first draft, he filed the tablet away for review and editing by his personal scribe golems, his pride and joy, built around the preserved bodies of ravens that he had taught reading and writing before imbuing them with his own knowledge.
Despite being fluent in most contemporary, archaic, and dead tongues of note, the White-robed Brother chose this finicky blend of writing as a way to express his supreme calligraphy skills, and to create the veneer of being more timeless and unchanging than he truly was, on the infinitesimally tiny chance that someone actually learned of the manor, scaled the mountain, and survived the ordeals.
In truth, the White-robed Brother was just as much a person with whims, vices, and pride as anyone else. Even with multiple different means of averting death, he still aged in the sense that he changed over time - for to become truly unaging was to become just as far from the living world as the dead, just as the Immortal King upon his eternal throne.
The White-Robed brother had not known any of these wisdoms when he first grasped existence beyond death, when he built this eternally young body of his, piece by piece. Even in the century-long labor he had not glimpsed such truths, solely focused on defying the disease which had doomed his birth body to wither away in a way not even the Great Immortalization could counteract. This body, whose artifice he was so proud of, a perfect living sculpture of flesh that he had thought a unique until recently.
First the False Emperor, and now her… So similar, and yet so different.
The White-robed Brother moved on, calmly taking a long drag of his pipe, holding the herbal smoke in his mouth while setting it down, taking a similarly long sip of his tea, and only then swallowing as he set the cup down. Then, he prepped the next tablet and took up the stylus once again while his editor-golems scuttled off with the finished draft.
Still so many reports to draft up, from cultivation methods, to techniques, to technology and potential upcoming events in this grand churning of history’s fertile soil… It gladdened his old heart that mankind was becoming better as a whole over time, even if those who lived in the moment thought their trajectory the opposite.
Tags: Metabolic Modification, Pyrokinesis, High-energy Internal Alchemy, Physical, Humors-as-Fuel, High-risk Initial Bottleneck, Psychological Advancement, Semi-Novel Branch
Year of His Glory, the Architect, 4713
Cultivation Branch UX14 Report No. 1
Monikers: Stormsurge, Storm Engine
Cultivation Tier: Class 4
Observation Report:
An outsider form of Storm-soul Cultivation, derived from the semi-synthetic Fulguric Deiforms making up the “Living Storm” environmental weapons system, used exclusively by Subject ZN.
What I find most intriguing about this case is not the method itself, but the specific subject’s circumstances and the fundamental application of the method in resolving issues that have long been solved in different ways.
Subject ZN appears to have utilized the ability to override natural nerve impulses to invent an otherwise inaccessible, high-tier breathing method, accompanied by intentional self-induction of extreme heart-rates and full-strength contraction of musculature. In my most recent, close-up observation of the subject, I did not observe any of the aforementioned traits; upon gathering further intel from Subject AK - whose Clan was currently present in the locale - I learned that Subject ZN somehow came upon and put into practice the foundations of a scroll detailing the “Walking Way of the Despot of Self”.
How said scroll made its way into her hands is up to debate, though her acquisition of it coincided with her takeover of the former. Therefore, considering the fact it had not surfaced in the centuries of operation prior to the present, it is safe to assume that it was likely contained within the Willowdale Sect’s sealed libraries, or, more likely, a vault contained within and thus obscured from scrying by Xiuhtaca’s Hanging Gardens.
Subject ZN having developed some manner of direct communication between the Upper and Lower Cognitive Plane explains every inconsistency with her previously observed performance, and promises the potential invention of an entirely novel Twin Intertwined Branch. If this is the case, however, I suspect she likely possesses a robust pre-existing connection with the Lower Cognitive Plane, as she seems to have entirely skipped the initial stages of struggle for control. Her making contact with a Hyperborean Descendant - Subject JH - implies further promise, considering their practice of the Despot of Self-adjacent “Spiritwalking” cultivation branch.
Such free intermixing of cultivation methods has been entirely unprecedented since the height of the Enlightenment Era in the 2300s - conflict-induced breakdown of societal norms does not always have negative consequences.
I intend to prioritize further non-intervention observation of Subject ZN for the foreseeable future.
Tags: Fulgurkinesis, Elementalism, Deivorous Cultivation, Spiritual Cultivation, High-risk Initial Bottleneck, Resistance-type Advancement, Breath-as-Fuel, Altered Classical Branch
A slightly rough, stream-of-consciousness report, but that didn’t matter. The calligraphy was mainly for fun and to help transfer his thoughts on and memories of the events and topics described into mnemoglyph, and his editor raven golems would fix the wording.
Another toke of the pipe, sip of tea, and new tablet.
Year of His Glory, the Architect, 4713
Arkatek Development Report No. T3865-C9
Monikers: Fulgur-Igneic Reactor, God Furnace
Arkatek Type: High-output Long-term Power Generation, Class 7
“Where to start with this one…” he muttered to himself, mulling over the veritable maelstrom of thought swirling about in his brain pertaining to this particular topic. In the scant few minutes that the White-robed Brother spent ruminating as such, his brother came storming out of the manor, seething with open fury unbefitting his curt, but otherwise controlled nature.
“That’s it, I told you what I would do if you intervened. I tell you not to drop so much as a rice grain on the scales and you drop a whole damn sackful, you careless fool!” howled the Black-robed Brother as he strode across the courtyard, his fury betrayed by his failure to conceal his aura; that seething lilac glow spilling forth from his eyes, the veritable maelstrom of power swirling about him, so intense it would be visible even to a half-blind mortal. The White-robed Brother wagered that, were his brother to get any angrier, his affinity for the heavenly elements would begin to influence the weather.
Ever gracious in his own insufferable calm, the White-robed Brother took another toke of his pipe and began writing his next report, turning his gaze to meet his brother’s as he did so.
“Whatever could you be speaking of, dear brother?” he asked. “I did no more than observe the mortals in their daily goings-on and collect knowledge for my archives… Well, alright, I did indulge in my wandering musician persona, but I took care to only play contemporary music using contemporary instruments. I am innocent of whatever intervention you accuse me of, and I will repeat that under a truth geas if necessary.”
He could feel his brother’s rage and rancor waning, replaced by a familiar misture of frustration and annoyance as he started on an exaggerated tirade: “Was it not by your hand that the homunculus obtained the Great Work of Sagruhel Ironhand, Supreme Sword-saint, the Man-Become-Sword, Slayer of the World Serpent of the Sands, the Despot of Self? WAS IT NOT BY YOUR INTERFERENCE THAT THAT VERY SCROLL WAS CREATED?!”
“I know not what you speak of. Ironhand’s legacy is entirely his own, I was but a footnote,” lied the White-robed Brother with a smile, sipping his tea. “A convenient old man. Once more, I am innocent of what you accuse me of.”
“Again with the claims of innocence?!” the Dark-robed Brother laughed in disbelief. “Were it not for your interference, that thrice-damned “Despot of Self” would have succumbed to his curse as he should’ve! You not only pointed him the way out, but broke our most sacrosanct vows and outright gave him that eponymous Ironhand of his! I’ll never let you-”
“You’ll never let me live it down, I understand,” sighed the White-robed Brother, ceasing his work as he put down the stylus and stared up at his younger brother in earnest. “It worked out in the end, did it not? I took great care to ensure the WDX-79 Hyper Reflex Prosthesis had a proper anti-tamper seal and made him well aware that it would fall to pieces if he tried to reverse-engineer it.”
“That’s not my point and you know it, quit deflecting,” snapped the Black-robed Brother. “She has the scroll now, and has clearly put it to use - who knows what kind of effect this will have if she teaches the Walking Way of the Despot of Self to others?”
“Reiterating your point louder will do no good. I learned of the scroll’s presence on the Continent as recently as you did,” the White-robed Brother rebuked. “Last I knew, it was securely at its resting place within the Spear of Glass.”
“I checked, it’s still there!” exclaimed the younger one in exasperation. “Whatever you did - or failed to do, for that matter - resulted in multiple copies being made without our knowledge. Like it or not, this is your fault. This undue weight upon the scales must be redressed, whether I want it to be or not - the wall is coming down.”
“Come now, such drastic recourse is not necessary. If you insist on this course of action - and the repercussions it will entail through my resultant willingness to intervene in a similar manner - we can come to a more reasonable conclusion.”
“Very well,” conceded the Black-robed Brother. “Make your case.”
“I go inside the wall and manually reduce the Isolation Factor down to four. The gates will no longer selectively decide who they let through based on disposition and intent, instead employing a spiritual sieve to prevent entities beyond a certain spiritual volume from passing through, a ceiling which will naturally raise over time until the wall naturally drops down to an Isolation Factor of three,” the White-robed Brother suggested, taking great satisfaction in his ability to have kept the information that this was even possible from his brother for millennia - even more so considering the fact the wall was his brother’s Magnum Opus.
It had never come up, as while the Black Wall had been raised before, its function had always been permitted to run its course naturally. “To remove the wall altogether and so suddenly would be foolish, it would force too many hands. The war would start right back up all over again and who knows how many Exclusion Zone situations we'd have on our hands then, even if the Inheritors would be entirely justified in such desperate action.”
“That… Hm… Yes, I suppose it’s plausible, I had not considered such an option,” conceded the Black-robed Brother. “It IS true that, were the wall to be entirely removed as a factor, lesser forces within the Empire may take foolish action or even attempt to destroy the Ikesian territories altogether, thus causing yet more volatile recourse from both the Inheritors and the likes of the Merchants of Menace.”
So it was that, for once, the brothers agreed on something, both well aware that the other’s acquiescence only meant that some new, yet more convoluted scheme was afoot. Only… The Black-robed Brother clearly held a tribulation more severe in store than merely opening up the gates a little bit.
However, the White-robed Brother had one more thing to say, and a grim countenance came about him as his face hardened and his voice spoke of true atrocity: “Hedan. Do not misunderstand my intentions. I will not permit you to turn our works against the Inheritors without my knowledge, never again. Should you once more attempt something so foolish as setting loose the unfettered wrath of the Suncage Grid upon a people just because their fundamental ideology goes counter to your own, I will not hesitate to scour you so thoroughly from this world that not even your archetype will reincarnate, I will capture your Dying Breath and burn it to heat my tea, do you understand?”
“You would doom us both for some mortals?!” laughed the younger brother indignantly, but the surprise and amusement evaporated when his elder’s gaze only hardened. Hedan was serious and angry by nature, but when Wodan’s ever present aura of levity vanished, it was as if the heavens themselves darkened. From an indignant question, Hedan instantly moved to trying to justify his past actions, “Come now, surely you know that my intentions were not merciless extermination! Had I intended to wipe out the Hyperboreans, I would have aimed the Finger of the Sun at one of their population centers or a fault line in the ice sheet! I’ve told you a thousand times that my intentions were to ensure that they wouldn’t excavate one of the Fallen Heavenly Vessels, lest you forget that even we know not whence they originate.”
“I don’t care about your excuses. Even if a drastic course of action was justified, the mere POSSIBILITY of genocide is unacceptable. If our options are allowing the Inheritors to unearth truly ancient arkatek beyond even our expertise or denying them that jumpstart at risk of catastrophe, the latter is not a choice at all - I will personally make sure of that, even if I must embody a false deity to do so.”
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2022.06.20 13:53 Zander823 Extermination Order Sidestory 1: A Whisper in the Night
Wiki Twenty-First Part Twenty-Second Part
The wind blew softly against the darkened windows. One remained, toiling away in an effort to prove something. It was a long day; they always were. But it was worth it. With every passing month, Pokle knew that her nest egg only grew. A vital component in the family she so craved, and the only one easily within her grasp. Though life was fickle, a single, glowing exclamation point always guided her to the one source of true stability. It gave her a home, and it gave her a family, even if it was not the one of her dreams.
And so she persisted, working into the late hours at her desk, balancing books, updating schedules, planning for the future. More and more had made its way onto her desk in recent times, and she knew it was not Dennis being lazy. At least, not entirely. Deep down, she felt it was a test. Without a word uttered to her, he had posed a most pivotal question.
“Can you do it? Can you weather the storm on your own two legs?”
Yes, yes I can, Pokle repeated to herself.
Papers slid by, her eyelids begging to droop, though she refused them outright. There was just… one… more… page. Her head nodded forward abruptly, forcing her to shake it. With a sigh, Pokle brushed back a lock of her sunny golden hair and conceded that she too needed rest. She set her desk straight, then stood from her chair.
And when her eyes rose, she saw the latest face in the house of Golden Point. That pale complexion, perfect skin, shining brown hair, and those cold, empty blue eyes. Pokle jumped.
“AHH! What are you doing here, Matti? How did you get in?”
Matti raised her arm with calculated grace. “I came here… to speak with you about something.”
Pokle lowered her defensive stance, subtly reaching for her waistline and pretending it was to put her hands on her belt, rather than the knife in her pocket. Her heart began to race.
“It’s… a bit late. You really shouldn’t be back here unaccompanied, especially at this hour,” she explained in a cautious tone.
A little smile sprung up on the intruder’s face, betraying an air of superiority. “But it is such a private matter. Something best not overheard or spread.”
A pit formed in Pokle’s stomach as her hand slowly crept closer to the hilt of the blade. “I… see. Well, I’m not much of a confidante. We barely even know each other.”
The smile vanished. Matti took a small step forward, narrowing the gap between them. “Oh, on the contrary. While I know little about you, I believe you know plenty about me.”
As one crept forward, another retreated, swiftly spending every inch between herself and the wall. Matti continued, her tone growing menacing.
“You are subtle in the ways that normally count. It has served you well for the average folk. But you cannot help it. Every time you see me, your heart quickens, your blood runs cold… you reek of fear.” The gap had all but gone as Matti backed her against the wall. “You remembered my name. You went and stuck your nose where it does not belong, and I know what you saw. I very much consider that… a problem.”
Pokle drew her knife with haste and raised it. “Stay b–”
In a blur, one hand slammed her wrist against the wall, knocking the knife free. Simultaneously, a forearm slipped under her chin and pinned her in place. Matti’s glowing-red eyes came into focus, supplanting all else. They had a luster to them, like they were the only thing Pokle could see. The world began to slowly spin as her body relaxed and ceased all resistance. The pressure against her neck and hand reduced, but when she tried to escape in response, her body did nothing.
“Good. Now, Pokle, I want you to understand something.” Matti’s face disappeared from view as she moved to whisper in Pokle’s ear. “I very much enjoy what I have with Dennis, and I am eager to see where it could lead. However, the peace I have found myself in is predicated on my secrets being kept. If I were to be discovered… well, I would put my survival over Dennis’ best interests, wellbeing, and safety, let alone yours. Now, who have you told?”
“N– nobody.”
The eyes came into view again, boring holes into Pokle’s mind. “Is that so? Not a word spoken to a soul? Not a letter drafted? Not a single note left in contingency?”
“Th– there’s nothing, I swear… not one word.”
Matti smiled, earnestly, dangerously. “Good, good,” she cooed, laying a soft kiss on Pokle’s cheek. “You will tell no one. If you have concerns, you will bring them to me, or to Dennis. You will safeguard my secrets with all you have. Else… Dennis would surely hate to lose his star employee.”
The arm against Pokle’s neck slid right, allowing the hand to grasp her chin and pull her head right. Matti leaned in close, brushing sharp fangs against Pokle’s soft neck and dragging a cold tongue upward in a show of dominance. She whimpered in fear as her hands quaked uncontrollably.
But then… it stopped.
There was… hesitation. The hypnosis faded and Pokle regained enough control to look. She turned her head, only to have it pressed against the wall once more.
“No… that can’t be right,” Matti murmured.
The lick returned, more forceful, probing the neck. The hand securing her wrist relinquished its grasp, only to pull the skin taut for inspection.
The fear returned, crashing over Pokle and sending her tumbling into panic. “What do you want with me? I won’t tell anyone, I swear! Let me go!”
Matti withdrew suddenly and grasped Pokle’s chin. Their eyes met again, and though she tried to fight it, she could not.
“Calm… calm,” the vampire whispered in a dark, musical tone. “I know you will tell none, but something new has piqued my interest. For there are two… little… scars. Hidden so well that any mere mortal would never find them. But to one such as I? They are so… deeply… familiar.”
Matti leaned in close, the swirling feeling emanating from her eyes once more. “You will go home and attempt to calm yourself. And when I come to knock… you will invite me inside.”
……
A bead of cold sweat dripped down Pokle’s calf. When did I get here? she wondered. It was home. Her table, her favorite clay mug, filled with her favorite tea. It’s late, why am I drinking this? posed her mind. On instinct, she raised the cup to her lips. It had gone cold. How long… have I been here?
It was all wrong. Her eyes wandered to the stove, devoid of embers. The pot was hanging up where she left it. Did I… make tea with cold water? What is going on?
As she grasped at answers to her questions, a knock fell on the door. Before it even registered in her mind, she had stood bolt upright and turned to answer it. Who could it be at this hour? she asked herself. But as she stepped, her heart began to race. No, no this is wrong. It’s HER, NO, STOP! Her right hand reached for the latch, her left moved to grasp the uncooperative limb.
She fought, fought herself, but not. Her body acted in another’s stead, and she rejected it with all she could. But it was not enough. With every moment, her movements slowed but never stopped. Inches from the door, she reached closer and closer to darkness, but the seed of control fought back, and she grasped the cold steel. With each degree it turned, she felt the impending doom draw closer. And then, with a clunk, the door opened.
In that dark, moonless night, stood Mattirina. Silent, waiting. Pokle felt herself inhale involuntarily, and immediately she knew. Her obedient hand shot up to cover her mouth, and the traitorous one seized it en route.
“Well? Don’t you have something to say?” the vampire asked with supreme confidence.
“P– p– p…” Pokle gritted her teeth as her jaw quivered. “P– please… c– come in.”
It was like an iron grip lifted from her entire body, only to be supplanted by a torrent of fear as Matti stepped in. The menacing form approached her, wearing a subtle smirk.
“You see? That wasn’t so hard,” she cooed smugly.
Rage built up in Pokle, an indignance mixing with her fight-or-flight. “Fuck… you,” she mustered quietly.
Matti raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. Her eyes went red again. “Go sit on your bed.”
And at that exact moment, Pokle understood just how gently she had been treated before. The memories of her office vaguely swirled in her mind. She could fight, then, even if she did lose. But now? Her eyes were like long pinholes, through which she could only watch as her body cooperated instantly, and precisely.
They sat on her bed, and Matti wore a strangely dignified expression. “Now, I will be direct with you. A vampire has fed upon you, and likely within the last 3 months. The scars on your neck are as subtle as they are unmistakable. So tell me, when do you think it may have happened?”
The bindings of control loosened, and Pokle was thrust into partial control once more. Confusion reigned supreme as she tried to comprehend what was happening. “Wh– what? What do you mean? I’ve never… had anything like that happen.”
Matti leaned over. “Of course you do not remember the incident itself. Be it a trail of corpses or witnesses, it matters not; the result is a dead or chased vampire. But were you assaulted, accosted and lost consciousness? Is there a gap in your memory where you felt awful shortly thereafter?” She produced a case and pulled a little cloth and needle from it. “Think on it for me. There is always something.”
While Pokle felt the desire to recall this event actively forced on her, she did not fight it. A modicum of genuine curiosity had appeared. She thought and thought, cutting through the dense fog of fear, panic, and hypnotic disruption. She thought through the wiping of the cloth against her neck, and the prick of the needle. And then, it struck her.
“I… I was mugged. It was 6 weeks ago. I was on my way home. They knocked me out in a punch, breaking my nose. When I woke, my money was gone. I had lost blood, but… that was because of my nose, wasn’t it? There was a puddle when I woke up…”
Matti inserted the needle into a little glass ball. “A broken nose, yes. That is a classic cover. You never know how long you were unconscious, nor how much of your blood seeped away into the ground.” The orb turned red, then purple, then black, causing a hungry look to cross Matti’s visage. “But it was no mugging, and you were not punched. At least, not first. A memory was planted in your mind, burying the truth. But how well, I wonder?”
A hand turned Pokle’s head, forcing her gaze once more into the swirling red eyes. “Show me, Pokle. Show me that night. Show me my prey.”
Again the tide moved, and again, Pokle elected to follow it. That night, that terrible night. So vividly she remembered the flinch, the tiniest action taken in self-preservation as she failed to dodge the fist careening toward her head. She had relived it a thousand times, and yet… this time was different. The mere memory made her skin crawl; something was wrong.
The process was mysterious, alien, even, but another consciousness had bored its way into her mind, and it too knew the falsity. But it did not simply observe, it attacked. It tore into the image, revealing it to be as paper. And behind that loomed a face. A face with hungry eyes, and terrible fangs. His hair long, his beard short. And then, Pokle blinked. She was staring into Matti’s own ruby eyes.
“Good. A face is all I need. Thank you, Pokle,” she uttered softly. Then the glow returned, the swirling, all of it. “Sleep now, o quaking sheep. This wolf goes to prowl… on your behalf.”
…
A limp form plopped onto the bed. Matti cocked her head at the completeness of Pokle’s sleep. It normally took much longer. Poor girl must have been very tired, she surmised. Her feelings on Pokle were… mixed. On the one hand, she was a star employee and valued friend to Dennis. Polite, diligent, caring. On the other hand, she was a snoop and had found a very sensitive little detail. One that could not simply be removed.
Matti glanced once more at the sleeping young woman. With a sigh, she decided that the situation was sufficiently handled for the moment. She rose, then straightened Pokle on her bed and pulled a blanket over the girl. After a cursory sniff of the home, Matti determined it was devoid of threats and would not burn down in her absence; so she locked the door and turned to mist, seeping out the keyhole and reforming in a deserted alley nearby.
The dim, dark tones of the moonless night kissed her pale skin, enlivening her senses and setting her instincts ablaze for the hunt. With a deep breath, she murmured to herself a statement, an affirmation of what she would soon accomplish unquestionably.
“Wolf goes to prowl… yes, I have a dog to put down.”
……
A moonless sky,
a dark joy for you.
In this we share,
the thrill of the emptiness.
But a joy not matching.
You revel in the hunt once more.
I salivate, I crave, knowing what you do not.
A hunter is being hunted.
So long it had been since Matti felt the formless freedom of mist for hours on end. It was a comfort, a sense of liberation, and it needed to be fought. For to give in was to dissipate into the skies, never again to reform. But on this night, her focus was a razor’s edge, for there was prey in her territory, and it was time to stake her claim. It was the perfect night for a hunt; so little light that the living were nearly blind, a softly howling wind to obscure the hopeless cries of the doomed. No creature of the night could resist. It is why she chose to confront Pokle, and it is why she knew the dog would be on the prowl.
The blackened moon was on high, casting its pitiful lack of light on a thousand alleyways. Each she searched, then moved on. Her mind turned to routes, hiding places, dens, and even where the grave would be. She almost pitied them, having to return to the earth with such frequency. Almost. Sympathy was reserved for ones less… appetizing.
She reformed on a roof, feeling the weight of corporeality tug on her after so long suspended in weightlessness. A moment to sniff the air, plucking strands of scent from it, searching for blood. There was none, only sex, excrement, and bread, like any other city. And so, once more, she turned to mist and moved on.
It was an endeavor of hours, but she did not tire, for the feeding awaiting her at the end only grew sweeter with each minute it eluded her. Half the town she checked, finding little. Soon, she found herself drawn to the obnoxious stench of sex, emanating from a brothel airing itself out with open windows as it closed for the night. She watched from a rooftop as the ladies went their separate ways, allowing her mind to wander a moment.
Brunettes, ravens, a redhead, and even a perky little blonde thing. They were all quite cute. The sort of girls she dreamed about stuffing a kingly bed with and fooling around debaucherously for hours, sipping a little blood from whoever, whenever. A fantasy that would have to go unfulfilled for a while. She eyed the blonde. You remind me of Pokle… I wonder if he has a type? With a sly raise of the eyebrow, Matti decided that she had found her bait.
Alone, they always walked alone. The Lands of Light breed such complacency, Matti groaned inwardly. Although it was most convenient, it still irked her. As the courtesan stepped homeward, blissfully unaware of her surroundings, a dark form coalesced just out of sight. In a swift, graceful motion, Matti swooped over and dragged her out of sight from an oncoming guard. She placed a hand on the woman’s mouth and stared deeply into her eyes, and beyond.
“Would you like to help me with something?” she asked, uncovering the mouth.
“Yes, my lady.”
……
Mortals never could handle Blackland Reserve. One sip and they could hardly stand, slurring every word. It merely buzzed Matti, but that night, it was perfect. The woman reeked of sex and brandy, stumbling past every dark alley. Even the common men preyed on her, one attempting to mug the lady. A simply psychic command to her thrall and the would-be attacker was struck in the nose, sending him scurrying for the shadows. It was almost a cruel imitation, a parody of the dog she hunted that night.
The minutes ticked on as her patience wore thin. The sun would rise soon, taking her prey underground. Hideaways such as those were much too difficult to sniff out. Indeed, a quarry that must be sought when it is out to feed. As her lure grew further exhausted, Matti felt frustration well up deep within her. There was no time to pass every alley, she needed to strike at the most desirable locations posthaste.
A simple aerial view in mist form revealed the backest of back alleys, the most unattended, run-down places in town. Where the cobbled streets gave way to moss and decay. Where no man in his right mind would wander without the sun at his back. They were perfect… and rather… plural. She selected one and sent her thrall stumbling along a path conspicuously devoid of guards.
The long hours of the hunt had tired her senses. Where once sheer alertness had perched, it had been supplanted with the dull ache of impatient boredom. Indeed, when her precious bait was snatched into an alleyway en route to the first hotspot, Matti almost missed it. But that sudden motion, that characteristically short squeal of fright. She turned about and darted down, seeing a man taking the bait into a dark corner.
His hair was long and dark, his beard short. And there was a hunger in his eyes. There was a bite on the hook.
She was so close, but her plan was destroyed by an inconvenient fact: His back was to the wall. A more brazen approach was required if she wished to prevent the bite, and she did; the addition of fresh blood diluted that lovely gamey flavor. Thus, she coalesced with confidence, right in front of them.
Instantly, he froze. His fangs bared, ready to strike into the warm flesh of the courtesan. And yet his hunger was forgotten. A mouse does not care for its next meal when it stares into the eyes of an owl. He dropped his meal and bolted, but his boon of a back against a wall came at the cost of cornering himself. Such confidence, such reliance on a status quo. And when it broke, he was not ready.
Three paces he fled, three final steps before the predator at his heel placed a spike of oak through his heart. His body froze under the assault of life and earth that was wood. He could only watch as a dark young lass rolled him onto his back and straddled his chest with a sickeningly gleeful smile, and fangs far sharper than his own.
“Pity upon those who take only the pig. They know the fullness of flesh, not the thrill of chase. A dark prey for me, the ultimate prize. A razor’s edge dividing continuance and the end. Kill to live, live to die. You are mine, as I could have been yours,” she recited.
Perhaps a moment to gloat, or a prayer before a meal, she felt the desire to recite old royal poetry before she dined. And dine she did. Bending forward, Matti sunk her fangs into his neck and began to drink. A flood of ruin, disease, and toxins flowed forth, setting her body alight as all was assailed, purified. It was enlivening, invigorating, filling! Empowering! She felt his strength flow into her drop-by-drop! His dark power becoming hers by the moment. His every memory slipped through her consciousness. Each like a portrait, offering for her to pluck it out and look before it was gone forever.
Every face, every feeding, she felt their memories enter her mind simultaneously. The ecstasy of every last drop of blood he ever imbibed coursed through Matti’s very soul. And with the last drop passing her lips, she released her bite and flung her head skyward, arching her back rearward and spreading her clawed hands wide. Were it the Lands of Darkness, she would have howled in victory.
Alas, it was not.
The rush passed, and she allowed herself a moment to breathe and focus. She glanced down and saw he was naught but a shriveled husk. She rose from the corpse and brushed her legs off, then turned to her lure. The woman was sitting, a blank expression on her face. Matti crouched by her side and stroked her cheek.
“You have done so well for me tonight, my dear. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
Her blank expression showed a glint of happiness. “Thank you, my lady. I shall.”
At that, the bait rose and Matti grasped her shoulders from behind. “Do me a favor and forget about tonight, my dear. You were out drinking late into the morning hours, and such excessive things always rob us of our memories.” Matti laid a kiss on her neck and sent her along with a playful spank and a chuckle.
Alone with the remains of her kill, she straddled the form once more and made to claim her prize. 4 fangs, fresh from their former owner. A dip in the right brews and they would gain a polished shine, even in the sun. Trophy in hand, she dumped the body where it belonged; in the street to be seen by anyone who cared. It would be dust by morning, and if nobody found it, that would make an excellent gauge of complacency.
And so she vanished into mist once more, victorious, satisfied, slaked.
……
The early morning sun beat down. Its oppressive rays made Matti tired, driving her inside, or at least for shade. But she persisted on foot, like the commoners around her. The sun was the great equalizer, reducing her to the talents and discomforts of a mortal. That is why she kept such lethal armaments within her cloak. There was but one thing to do before she could hide away in Dennis’ abode. One little errand before she could rest.
A familiar door approached. She stepped onto the front deck and knocked.
The delay was long, the moments passing like the molasses she smelled in the nearby confectionery. Only after it became awkward did an answer seep through the door.
“Who is it?”
“Matti. May I come in?”
“NO!”
She grinned. “I think that shows that you are yourself again. I have come with a peace offering.”
There was a pause before Pokle responded. “What is it?” she inquired frustratedly.
“A token. If you care not to face me, I can pass it through the door.”
Another pause came and went before the lock was undone and the door cracked slightly open. Pokle was unseen, wisely if overcautiously avoiding eye contact. Unfazed, Matti stuck her hand through the opening and dropped the gift into Pokle’s.
“This is…” she trailed off. “Are these… his?”
“Indeed they are. Never again will he prey on the denizens of this burg.”
Pokle returned the necklace of fangs. “Umm… thank you, but please take this away. I’m still reeling from last night and I don’t want any reminders.”
Matti accepted it. “Very well, I shall remove them from sight. Now, concerning the… other events of last night. How about we let sleeping dogs lie until Dennis returns. It really is something that concerns him.”
“Yes, please. I won’t tell a soul, just… stay away from me until he gets back… and keep staying away after that.”
She chuckled. “As you wish. Have a nice day, my sunny, daywalking friend.”
“I’m not your friend, fuck off.”
……
Several days later…
Dennis munched his cereal and milk with a miffed expression. “You could’ve just… talked to her like a rational adult…”
“I… did? We had a rational, adult conversation.”
He cradled his head by the temple. “Okayyy… I guess that’s how you were raised and all, but generally a rational conversation involves no threats of any kind, or the use of hypnosis to force your perspective on other people.”
She turned her nose up snootily. “She had acquired sensitive information, and that method sounds terribly inefficient.”
“Look, Matti, I appreciate that it’s a bombshell, and that you have every right to protect yourself from the spread of information that could get you hunted down. At the same time, I really don’t appreciate when someone—especially a former client—harrasses, assaults, and… well, violates my employees. I pay them top put up with a lot of crap, but not that.”
Matti lowered her head, grasping his points rather fast. “I do… believe I understand your point.”
He took a swig of apple juice, stamping the cup down with purpose. “Good. I’m going to do you a favor and reserve judgment until after I hear how genuine your apology to Pokle is.”
Her head rolled back, as her eyes alone were insufficient rolling energy. “UGH. Do I have to?”
“Yeah… you did a crime on my right-hand-woman. I think we’ll have her over for dinner, and socialize for an hour or two as well. You can tell her about yourself and open up about some insecurities or whatever. All you have to do is treat her as an equal for that time, and hopefully in perpetuity.”
She pouted cutely, leaning her elbows on the table. “Sometimes I miss when I just told everyone and everything exactly what to do,” she sighed.
Dennis finished chugging the remaining milk in the bowl. “Buy yourself another evil lair and some minions, then.”
“Would you follow me there?”
“Nope. Multi-decade CEO career… or multi-week relationship with low-single-digit dates? We’re both smart here.”
She smiled, despite a small mix of emotions clashing on her face. “I suppose I cannot have my cake and eat it too.”
“A real shame, it’d be quite a world if everyone always got their way.” He looked up for a moment. “Speaking of eating stuff, I think I know what to make. Do you want to wash the dishes, or write the shopping list?”
“My, my, quick to business as usual once more, are we?”
He stood from his chair. “No answer means you’re volunteering for the dishes.”
“Hold on, I’ll get my quill,” she quickly replied.
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The wind blew softly against the darkened windows. One remained, toiling away in an effort to prove something. It was a long day; they always were. But it was worth it. With every passing month, Pokle knew that her nest egg only grew. A vital component in the family she so craved, and the only one easily within her grasp. Though life was fickle, a single, glowing exclamation point always guided her to the one source of true stability. It gave her a home, and it gave her a family, even if it was not the one of her dreams.
And so she persisted, working into the late hours at her desk, balancing books, updating schedules, planning for the future. More and more had made its way onto her desk in recent times, and she knew it was not Dennis being lazy. At least, not entirely. Deep down, she felt it was a test. Without a word uttered to her, he had posed a most pivotal question.
“Can you do it? Can you weather the storm on your own two legs?”
Yes, yes I can, Pokle repeated to herself.
Papers slid by, her eyelids begging to droop, though she refused them outright. There was just… one… more… page. Her head nodded forward abruptly, forcing her to shake it. With a sigh, Pokle brushed back a lock of her sunny golden hair and conceded that she too needed rest. She set her desk straight, then stood from her chair.
And when her eyes rose, she saw the latest face in the house of Golden Point. That pale complexion, perfect skin, shining brown hair, and those cold, empty blue eyes. Pokle jumped.
“AHH! What are you doing here, Matti? How did you get in?”
Matti raised her arm with calculated grace. “I came here… to speak with you about something.”
Pokle lowered her defensive stance, subtly reaching for her waistline and pretending it was to put her hands on her belt, rather than the knife in her pocket. Her heart began to race.
“It’s… a bit late. You really shouldn’t be back here unaccompanied, especially at this hour,” she explained in a cautious tone.
A little smile sprung up on the intruder’s face, betraying an air of superiority. “But it is such a private matter. Something best not overheard or spread.”
A pit formed in Pokle’s stomach as her hand slowly crept closer to the hilt of the blade. “I… see. Well, I’m not much of a confidante. We barely even know each other.”
The smile vanished. Matti took a small step forward, narrowing the gap between them. “Oh, on the contrary. While I know little about you, I believe you know plenty about me.”
As one crept forward, another retreated, swiftly spending every inch between herself and the wall. Matti continued, her tone growing menacing.
“You are subtle in the ways that normally count. It has served you well for the average folk. But you cannot help it. Every time you see me, your heart quickens, your blood runs cold… you reek of fear.” The gap had all but gone as Matti backed her against the wall. “You remembered my name. You went and stuck your nose where it does not belong, and I know what you saw. I very much consider that… a problem.”
Pokle drew her knife with haste and raised it. “Stay b–”
In a blur, one hand slammed her wrist against the wall, knocking the knife free. Simultaneously, a forearm slipped under her chin and pinned her in place. Matti’s glowing-red eyes came into focus, supplanting all else. They had a luster to them, like they were the only thing Pokle could see. The world began to slowly spin as her body relaxed and ceased all resistance. The pressure against her neck and hand reduced, but when she tried to escape in response, her body did nothing.
“Good. Now, Pokle, I want you to understand something.” Matti’s face disappeared from view as she moved to whisper in Pokle’s ear. “I very much enjoy what I have with Dennis, and I am eager to see where it could lead. However, the peace I have found myself in is predicated on my secrets being kept. If I were to be discovered… well, I would put my survival over Dennis’ best interests, wellbeing, and safety, let alone yours. Now, who have you told?”
“N– nobody.”
The eyes came into view again, boring holes into Pokle’s mind. “Is that so? Not a word spoken to a soul? Not a letter drafted? Not a single note left in contingency?”
“Th– there’s nothing, I swear… not one word.”
Matti smiled, earnestly, dangerously. “Good, good,” she cooed, laying a soft kiss on Pokle’s cheek. “You will tell no one. If you have concerns, you will bring them to me, or to Dennis. You will safeguard my secrets with all you have. Else… Dennis would surely hate to lose his star employee.”
The arm against Pokle’s neck slid right, allowing the hand to grasp her chin and pull her head right. Matti leaned in close, brushing sharp fangs against Pokle’s soft neck and dragging a cold tongue upward in a show of dominance. She whimpered in fear as her hands quaked uncontrollably.
But then… it stopped.
There was… hesitation. The hypnosis faded and Pokle regained enough control to look. She turned her head, only to have it pressed against the wall once more.
“No… that can’t be right,” Matti murmured.
The lick returned, more forceful, probing the neck. The hand securing her wrist relinquished its grasp, only to pull the skin taut for inspection.
The fear returned, crashing over Pokle and sending her tumbling into panic. “What do you want with me? I won’t tell anyone, I swear! Let me go!”
Matti withdrew suddenly and grasped Pokle’s chin. Their eyes met again, and though she tried to fight it, she could not.
“Calm… calm,” the vampire whispered in a dark, musical tone. “I know you will tell none, but something new has piqued my interest. For there are two… little… scars. Hidden so well that any mere mortal would never find them. But to one such as I? They are so… deeply… familiar.”
Matti leaned in close, the swirling feeling emanating from her eyes once more. “You will go home and attempt to calm yourself. And when I come to knock… you will invite me inside.”
……
A bead of cold sweat dripped down Pokle’s calf. When did I get here? she wondered. It was home. Her table, her favorite clay mug, filled with her favorite tea. It’s late, why am I drinking this? posed her mind. On instinct, she raised the cup to her lips. It had gone cold. How long… have I been here?
It was all wrong. Her eyes wandered to the stove, devoid of embers. The pot was hanging up where she left it. Did I… make tea with cold water? What is going on?
As she grasped at answers to her questions, a knock fell on the door. Before it even registered in her mind, she had stood bolt upright and turned to answer it. Who could it be at this hour? she asked herself. But as she stepped, her heart began to race. No, no this is wrong. It’s HER, NO, STOP! Her right hand reached for the latch, her left moved to grasp the uncooperative limb.
She fought, fought herself, but not. Her body acted in another’s stead, and she rejected it with all she could. But it was not enough. With every moment, her movements slowed but never stopped. Inches from the door, she reached closer and closer to darkness, but the seed of control fought back, and she grasped the cold steel. With each degree it turned, she felt the impending doom draw closer. And then, with a clunk, the door opened.
In that dark, moonless night, stood Mattirina. Silent, waiting. Pokle felt herself inhale involuntarily, and immediately she knew. Her obedient hand shot up to cover her mouth, and the traitorous one seized it en route.
“Well? Don’t you have something to say?” the vampire asked with supreme confidence.
“P– p– p…” Pokle gritted her teeth as her jaw quivered. “P– please… c– come in.”
It was like an iron grip lifted from her entire body, only to be supplanted by a torrent of fear as Matti stepped in. The menacing form approached her, wearing a subtle smirk.
“You see? That wasn’t so hard,” she cooed smugly.
Rage built up in Pokle, an indignance mixing with her fight-or-flight. “Fuck… you,” she mustered quietly.
Matti raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. Her eyes went red again. “Go sit on your bed.”
And at that exact moment, Pokle understood just how gently she had been treated before. The memories of her office vaguely swirled in her mind. She could fight, then, even if she did lose. But now? Her eyes were like long pinholes, through which she could only watch as her body cooperated instantly, and precisely.
They sat on her bed, and Matti wore a strangely dignified expression. “Now, I will be direct with you. A vampire has fed upon you, and likely within the last 3 months. The scars on your neck are as subtle as they are unmistakable. So tell me, when do you think it may have happened?”
The bindings of control loosened, and Pokle was thrust into partial control once more. Confusion reigned supreme as she tried to comprehend what was happening. “Wh– what? What do you mean? I’ve never… had anything like that happen.”
Matti leaned over. “Of course you do not remember the incident itself. Be it a trail of corpses or witnesses, it matters not; the result is a dead or chased vampire. But were you assaulted, accosted and lost consciousness? Is there a gap in your memory where you felt awful shortly thereafter?” She produced a case and pulled a little cloth and needle from it. “Think on it for me. There is always something.”
While Pokle felt the desire to recall this event actively forced on her, she did not fight it. A modicum of genuine curiosity had appeared. She thought and thought, cutting through the dense fog of fear, panic, and hypnotic disruption. She thought through the wiping of the cloth against her neck, and the prick of the needle. And then, it struck her.
“I… I was mugged. It was 6 weeks ago. I was on my way home. They knocked me out in a punch, breaking my nose. When I woke, my money was gone. I had lost blood, but… that was because of my nose, wasn’t it? There was a puddle when I woke up…”
Matti inserted the needle into a little glass ball. “A broken nose, yes. That is a classic cover. You never know how long you were unconscious, nor how much of your blood seeped away into the ground.” The orb turned red, then purple, then black, causing a hungry look to cross Matti’s visage. “But it was no mugging, and you were not punched. At least, not first. A memory was planted in your mind, burying the truth. But how well, I wonder?”
A hand turned Pokle’s head, forcing her gaze once more into the swirling red eyes. “Show me, Pokle. Show me that night. Show me my prey.”
Again the tide moved, and again, Pokle elected to follow it. That night, that terrible night. So vividly she remembered the flinch, the tiniest action taken in self-preservation as she failed to dodge the fist careening toward her head. She had relived it a thousand times, and yet… this time was different. The mere memory made her skin crawl; something was wrong.
The process was mysterious, alien, even, but another consciousness had bored its way into her mind, and it too knew the falsity. But it did not simply observe, it attacked. It tore into the image, revealing it to be as paper. And behind that loomed a face. A face with hungry eyes, and terrible fangs. His hair long, his beard short. And then, Pokle blinked. She was staring into Matti’s own ruby eyes.
“Good. A face is all I need. Thank you, Pokle,” she uttered softly. Then the glow returned, the swirling, all of it. “Sleep now, o quaking sheep. This wolf goes to prowl… on your behalf.”
…
A limp form plopped onto the bed. Matti cocked her head at the completeness of Pokle’s sleep. It normally took much longer. Poor girl must have been very tired, she surmised. Her feelings on Pokle were… mixed. On the one hand, she was a star employee and valued friend to Dennis. Polite, diligent, caring. On the other hand, she was a snoop and had found a very sensitive little detail. One that could not simply be removed.
Matti glanced once more at the sleeping young woman. With a sigh, she decided that the situation was sufficiently handled for the moment. She rose, then straightened Pokle on her bed and pulled a blanket over the girl. After a cursory sniff of the home, Matti determined it was devoid of threats and would not burn down in her absence; so she locked the door and turned to mist, seeping out the keyhole and reforming in a deserted alley nearby.
The dim, dark tones of the moonless night kissed her pale skin, enlivening her senses and setting her instincts ablaze for the hunt. With a deep breath, she murmured to herself a statement, an affirmation of what she would soon accomplish unquestionably.
“Wolf goes to prowl… yes, I have a dog to put down.”
……
A moonless sky,
a dark joy for you.
In this we share,
the thrill of the emptiness.
But a joy not matching.
You revel in the hunt once more.
I salivate, I crave, knowing what you do not.
A hunter is being hunted.
So long it had been since Matti felt the formless freedom of mist for hours on end. It was a comfort, a sense of liberation, and it needed to be fought. For to give in was to dissipate into the skies, never again to reform. But on this night, her focus was a razor’s edge, for there was prey in her territory, and it was time to stake her claim. It was the perfect night for a hunt; so little light that the living were nearly blind, a softly howling wind to obscure the hopeless cries of the doomed. No creature of the night could resist. It is why she chose to confront Pokle, and it is why she knew the dog would be on the prowl.
The blackened moon was on high, casting its pitiful lack of light on a thousand alleyways. Each she searched, then moved on. Her mind turned to routes, hiding places, dens, and even where the grave would be. She almost pitied them, having to return to the earth with such frequency. Almost. Sympathy was reserved for ones less… appetizing.
She reformed on a roof, feeling the weight of corporeality tug on her after so long suspended in weightlessness. A moment to sniff the air, plucking strands of scent from it, searching for blood. There was none, only sex, excrement, and bread, like any other city. And so, once more, she turned to mist and moved on.
It was an endeavor of hours, but she did not tire, for the feeding awaiting her at the end only grew sweeter with each minute it eluded her. Half the town she checked, finding little. Soon, she found herself drawn to the obnoxious stench of sex, emanating from a brothel airing itself out with open windows as it closed for the night. She watched from a rooftop as the ladies went their separate ways, allowing her mind to wander a moment.
Brunettes, ravens, a redhead, and even a perky little blonde thing. They were all quite cute. The sort of girls she dreamed about stuffing a kingly bed with and fooling around debaucherously for hours, sipping a little blood from whoever, whenever. A fantasy that would have to go unfulfilled for a while. She eyed the blonde. You remind me of Pokle… I wonder if he has a type? With a sly raise of the eyebrow, Matti decided that she had found her bait.
Alone, they always walked alone. The Lands of Light breed such complacency, Matti groaned inwardly. Although it was most convenient, it still irked her. As the courtesan stepped homeward, blissfully unaware of her surroundings, a dark form coalesced just out of sight. In a swift, graceful motion, Matti swooped over and dragged her out of sight from an oncoming guard. She placed a hand on the woman’s mouth and stared deeply into her eyes, and beyond.
“Would you like to help me with something?” she asked, uncovering the mouth.
“Yes, my lady.”
……
Mortals never could handle Blackland Reserve. One sip and they could hardly stand, slurring every word. It merely buzzed Matti, but that night, it was perfect. The woman reeked of sex and brandy, stumbling past every dark alley. Even the common men preyed on her, one attempting to mug the lady. A simply psychic command to her thrall and the would-be attacker was struck in the nose, sending him scurrying for the shadows. It was almost a cruel imitation, a parody of the dog she hunted that night.
The minutes ticked on as her patience wore thin. The sun would rise soon, taking her prey underground. Hideaways such as those were much too difficult to sniff out. Indeed, a quarry that must be sought when it is out to feed. As her lure grew further exhausted, Matti felt frustration well up deep within her. There was no time to pass every alley, she needed to strike at the most desirable locations posthaste.
A simple aerial view in mist form revealed the backest of back alleys, the most unattended, run-down places in town. Where the cobbled streets gave way to moss and decay. Where no man in his right mind would wander without the sun at his back. They were perfect… and rather… plural. She selected one and sent her thrall stumbling along a path conspicuously devoid of guards.
The long hours of the hunt had tired her senses. Where once sheer alertness had perched, it had been supplanted with the dull ache of impatient boredom. Indeed, when her precious bait was snatched into an alleyway en route to the first hotspot, Matti almost missed it. But that sudden motion, that characteristically short squeal of fright. She turned about and darted down, seeing a man taking the bait into a dark corner.
His hair was long and dark, his beard short. And there was a hunger in his eyes. There was a bite on the hook.
She was so close, but her plan was destroyed by an inconvenient fact: His back was to the wall. A more brazen approach was required if she wished to prevent the bite, and she did; the addition of fresh blood diluted that lovely gamey flavor. Thus, she coalesced with confidence, right in front of them.
Instantly, he froze. His fangs bared, ready to strike into the warm flesh of the courtesan. And yet his hunger was forgotten. A mouse does not care for its next meal when it stares into the eyes of an owl. He dropped his meal and bolted, but his boon of a back against a wall came at the cost of cornering himself. Such confidence, such reliance on a status quo. And when it broke, he was not ready.
Three paces he fled, three final steps before the predator at his heel placed a spike of oak through his heart. His body froze under the assault of life and earth that was wood. He could only watch as a dark young lass rolled him onto his back and straddled his chest with a sickeningly gleeful smile, and fangs far sharper than his own.
“Pity upon those who take only the pig. They know the fullness of flesh, not the thrill of chase. A dark prey for me, the ultimate prize. A razor’s edge dividing continuance and the end. Kill to live, live to die. You are mine, as I could have been yours,” she recited.
Perhaps a moment to gloat, or a prayer before a meal, she felt the desire to recite old royal poetry before she dined. And dine she did. Bending forward, Matti sunk her fangs into his neck and began to drink. A flood of ruin, disease, and toxins flowed forth, setting her body alight as all was assailed, purified. It was enlivening, invigorating, filling! Empowering! She felt his strength flow into her drop-by-drop! His dark power becoming hers by the moment. His every memory slipped through her consciousness. Each like a portrait, offering for her to pluck it out and look before it was gone forever.
Every face, every feeding, she felt their memories enter her mind simultaneously. The ecstasy of every last drop of blood he ever imbibed coursed through Matti’s very soul. And with the last drop passing her lips, she released her bite and flung her head skyward, arching her back rearward and spreading her clawed hands wide. Were it the Lands of Darkness, she would have howled in victory.
Alas, it was not.
The rush passed, and she allowed herself a moment to breathe and focus. She glanced down and saw he was naught but a shriveled husk. She rose from the corpse and brushed her legs off, then turned to her lure. The woman was sitting, a blank expression on her face. Matti crouched by her side and stroked her cheek.
“You have done so well for me tonight, my dear. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
Her blank expression showed a glint of happiness. “Thank you, my lady. I shall.”
At that, the bait rose and Matti grasped her shoulders from behind. “Do me a favor and forget about tonight, my dear. You were out drinking late into the morning hours, and such excessive things always rob us of our memories.” Matti laid a kiss on her neck and sent her along with a playful spank and a chuckle.
Alone with the remains of her kill, she straddled the form once more and made to claim her prize. 4 fangs, fresh from their former owner. A dip in the right brews and they would gain a polished shine, even in the sun. Trophy in hand, she dumped the body where it belonged; in the street to be seen by anyone who cared. It would be dust by morning, and if nobody found it, that would make an excellent gauge of complacency.
And so she vanished into mist once more, victorious, satisfied, slaked.
……
The early morning sun beat down. Its oppressive rays made Matti tired, driving her inside, or at least for shade. But she persisted on foot, like the commoners around her. The sun was the great equalizer, reducing her to the talents and discomforts of a mortal. That is why she kept such lethal armaments within her cloak. There was but one thing to do before she could hide away in Dennis’ abode. One little errand before she could rest.
A familiar door approached. She stepped onto the front deck and knocked.
The delay was long, the moments passing like the molasses she smelled in the nearby confectionery. Only after it became awkward did an answer seep through the door.
“Who is it?”
“Matti. May I come in?”
“NO!”
She grinned. “I think that shows that you are yourself again. I have come with a peace offering.”
There was a pause before Pokle responded. “What is it?” she inquired frustratedly.
“A token. If you care not to face me, I can pass it through the door.”
Another pause came and went before the lock was undone and the door cracked slightly open. Pokle was unseen, wisely if overcautiously avoiding eye contact. Unfazed, Matti stuck her hand through the opening and dropped the gift into Pokle’s.
“This is…” she trailed off. “Are these… his?”
“Indeed they are. Never again will he prey on the denizens of this burg.”
Pokle returned the necklace of fangs. “Umm… thank you, but please take this away. I’m still reeling from last night and I don’t want any reminders.”
Matti accepted it. “Very well, I shall remove them from sight. Now, concerning the… other events of last night. How about we let sleeping dogs lie until Dennis returns. It really is something that concerns him.”
“Yes, please. I won’t tell a soul, just… stay away from me until he gets back… and keep staying away after that.”
She chuckled. “As you wish. Have a nice day, my sunny, daywalking friend.”
“I’m not your friend, fuck off.”
……
Several days later…
Dennis munched his cereal and milk with a miffed expression. “You could’ve just… talked to her like a rational adult…”
“I… did? We had a rational, adult conversation.”
He cradled his head by the temple. “Okayyy… I guess that’s how you were raised and all, but generally a rational conversation involves no threats of any kind, or the use of hypnosis to force your perspective on other people.”
She turned her nose up snootily. “She had acquired sensitive information, and that method sounds terribly inefficient.”
“Look, Matti, I appreciate that it’s a bombshell, and that you have every right to protect yourself from the spread of information that could get you hunted down. At the same time, I really don’t appreciate when someone—especially a former client—harrasses, assaults, and… well, violates my employees. I pay them top put up with a lot of crap, but not that.”
Matti lowered her head, grasping his points rather fast. “I do… believe I understand your point.”
He took a swig of apple juice, stamping the cup down with purpose. “Good. I’m going to do you a favor and reserve judgment until after I hear how genuine your apology to Pokle is.”
Her head rolled back, as her eyes alone were insufficient rolling energy. “UGH. Do I have to?”
“Yeah… you did a crime on my right-hand-woman. I think we’ll have her over for dinner, and socialize for an hour or two as well. You can tell her about yourself and open up about some insecurities or whatever. All you have to do is treat her as an equal for that time, and hopefully in perpetuity.”
She pouted cutely, leaning her elbows on the table. “Sometimes I miss when I just told everyone and everything exactly what to do,” she sighed.
Dennis finished chugging the remaining milk in the bowl. “Buy yourself another evil lair and some minions, then.”
“Would you follow me there?”
“Nope. Multi-decade CEO career… or multi-week relationship with low-single-digit dates? We’re both smart here.”
She smiled, despite a small mix of emotions clashing on her face. “I suppose I cannot have my cake and eat it too.”
“A real shame, it’d be quite a world if everyone always got their way.” He looked up for a moment. “Speaking of eating stuff, I think I know what to make. Do you want to wash the dishes, or write the shopping list?”
“My, my, quick to business as usual once more, are we?”
He stood from his chair. “No answer means you’re volunteering for the dishes.”
“Hold on, I’ll get my quill,” she quickly replied.
Afterword
Wiki Twenty-First Part Twenty-Second Part2022.06.13 15:00 Narvi_- On "Creation" as distinct from "Causation"
I wanted to present a line of thought in follow-up to a previous post that I've been chewing on, and I'm hoping to get folks' feedback on this.
I've included a couple of quotes by the Bab below on 'causation' itself being a created thing. You might want to read them before reading my brief thoughts on them.
One implication that I think we can draw out of them is as follows:
- If we are to understand causation itself as "created" by God (the "Essence"), that would mean that the concept of "creation" transcends the concept of "causation."
- In other words I think that causation can be understood as one type of creation. But there are other types of creation which different from "causation". E.g. the act of creating causation itself. This would be a type of "creation" that is not a form of causation. (For reference, see the third quote from the Bab below).
- So we know there are multiple types of creation. We do not presently know of other types of 'creation'. But we know of at least two:
Interested in your further thoughts.
submitted by Narvi_- to bahai [link] [comments]
I've included a couple of quotes by the Bab below on 'causation' itself being a created thing. You might want to read them before reading my brief thoughts on them.
One implication that I think we can draw out of them is as follows:
- If we are to understand causation itself as "created" by God (the "Essence"), that would mean that the concept of "creation" transcends the concept of "causation."
- In other words I think that causation can be understood as one type of creation. But there are other types of creation which different from "causation". E.g. the act of creating causation itself. This would be a type of "creation" that is not a form of causation. (For reference, see the third quote from the Bab below).
- So we know there are multiple types of creation. We do not presently know of other types of 'creation'. But we know of at least two:
- The creation of things through causation -- a relation of cause and effect that is brought about by the "First Cause" or the "Primal Will" (sometimes simply referred to as "the Will" in the quotes below)
- The Creation of Causation itself which
Interested in your further thoughts.
For that Essential Pre-existence which is not the cause of any thing, and beside Whom nothing is present, and at Whose rank none can ever be mentioned, is solely the Ancient Pre-existence of the Eternal Essence, which hath ever existed by virtue of His own Existence. Naught is men- tioned besides Him, and no plurality whatsoever can be uttered in the absolute indivisible Unity of His Essence.
Immeasurably exalted is God above the claim of the philosophers that the cause of the originated beings is the Pre-existence of the Essence, seeking thereby to connect God with the contingent realm, and desiring to demonstrate the presence of the eternal intelligible forms (a‘yáni’th-thábitah), by virtue of the subtlety of the Indivisible, within His Essence. . . .
Inasmuch as the Pre-existence of the Essence can never be associated with, or equal to, anything, and nothing is worthy of mention before His station, it is not possible, therefore, that He could be the source of plurality. For, the condition of causation is the mode of association, resemblance, and utterance in relation to the effect. This, however, is both impossible and forbidden in the realm of Utter Essence, which in turn is exalted beyond mention by any of His creatures. . . .
The statement of the philosophers that the cause of the created beings is the Essence is erroneous because of the lack of association, the utter impossibility of change, and the precondition of the resemblance of the cause and the effect. The truth is that the Cause of beings is God’s Handiwork, created by God Himself for Himself, and ordained to be the Cause of all His creation.
- Gate of the Heart, p. 190 - 1
Bear thou witness . . . that verily God, glorified be He, hath ever been, and will ever exist without anything to exist with Him. He verily hath created all things by virtue of His Will, and hath created the Will by Itself, out of nothing else. . . . All things are created and affected by It.
Then behold naught in the heavens, the earth, and that which lieth between them, save as the effects thereof. They all, verily, are fashioned by the Will and have proceeded from It, while It is verily created by Itself and abideth beneath Its Own Essence. It hath proceeded from God, Its Lord, and unto God, Its Fashioner, It shall return.
- Gate of the Heart, p. 191
Verily, God hath intended by these exalted words to sanctify His Essence utterly from any attribute of causation, refuting the views of those who have considered the Essence to be the Cause of all causes. For, verily, that Cause is His Handiwork, and that Handiwork is not preceeded by any cause, to such an extent that the tongue of His Favoured Ones repeatedly addressed this absence of causation by the Essence. Had it been the Essence that was also the Cause, this would have required association and resemblance. Yet, exalted and glorified then be God! He hath fashioned the Will from nothingness, through Itself, and ordained It to be the Cause of all that is other than It, with no descent of anything from His Essence unto the Will.
- Gate of the Heart, p. 192
2022.05.19 13:21 dice1899 Part 68: CES Letter Conclusion [Section A]
Entries in this series (this link does not work properly in old Reddit or 3rd-party apps): https://www.reddit.com/lds/collection/11be9581-6e2e-4837-9ed4-30f5e37782b2
After almost a year and a half, this series is drawing to a close. All we have left here is Jeremy’s conclusion (which is 3 pages long) and then my own concluding thoughts. It’s been a long road, with a lot of reading, studying, and personal growth. I’ve personally learned a lot, and putting aside so much of my free time to study the history of the Church and its primary documents has strengthened my own testimony more than I ever anticipated.
It’s funny; one of the common claims you hear from people who have left the Church is that the more they studied, the more they became convinced it wasn’t true. For me, it’s been the opposite. The more I study the Gospel and its history, the more deep my belief becomes. I’ve said before that you can’t study this stuff on your own, you have to study with the Spirit. Maybe that’s the difference, maybe not. I can’t read anyone else’s mind.
All I can do is speak to my own life, and it tells me that what you get out of an experience mirrors what you put into it. If you’re hoping to find reasons to leave the Church, you’ll find them. If you’re hoping to find reasons to stay, you’ll find those, too. And if you’re looking to grow your testimony while learning more about the Church you belong to, researching all of these questions on your own is a great way to do it.
Just don’t try to do it on your own. Don’t shut your Father in Heaven out of the process. He wants to help you. He wants to nudge you toward the answers that are available. He doesn’t want you to be alone, or scared, or hurting, or confused. He’s there, but you have to turn to Him. He won’t force the relationship, so you have to be the one to turn to Him. And if you do, He’ll send His Spirit to help guide you along your path.
Anyway, because this is such a long conclusion, I don’t know if we’ll finish the entire thing today. Most of this section is going to be an extended recap of everything we’ve covered already, but I’ll try to keep it from getting too boring.
It begins with a quote from Doctrines of Salvation by Joseph Fielding Smith:
But Elder Holland and President Smith were right when they testified that these attacks have failed. There’s no reason for you to accept Jeremy’s word on any of it. I’ve spent nearly a year and a half going through every single question in his Letter and laying out all of the evidence to demonstrate that his attacks have no teeth. There’s simply nothing here.
And we’re going to go over everything again now to prove it.
Jeremy’s conclusion begins:
So, while Jeremy claims he couldn’t find any answers on official Church websites, I’ve found over 700 sources pointing to those answers on them. That tells me quite plainly that either he didn’t look very hard for them, or he rejected them because he wasn’t being honest when he said he wanted “official” answers to his questions.
You do not go from an active, practicing, faithful, believing Latter-day Saint to an atheist who loudly and repeatedly mocks God, the scriptures, the Spirit, the temple, the prophet, and anything else you can think of in that time span unless you are consuming large quantities of anti-LDS material. It just doesn’t happen. That’s flipping your life entirely upside down. If you’re questioning and sincerely researching from a variety of sources on both sides of the equation, pleading with God to direct you, even if you do eventually end up leaving the Church it’d take you longer than 6 months to get to the point Jeremy was at. That transformation is so abrupt, from one extreme to the other, in such a short amount of time that he had to be wallowing in material critical of the Church.
Either he wasn’t reading much of anything positive about the Church at all during that time period, or he’s not being honest about the timeline and the catalyst for his disaffection. So, he may not have been satisfied with the answers he found on FAIR or any other similar website, but they didn’t make him abandon his temple covenants and attack God and His Gospel the way he did. It was something else entirely that drove him to that.
And “correlated Mormonism”? Really? Again, correlation was the act of creating Church manuals so that you’d have the same lessons everywhere in the world. This is a weird, weird criticism to make. Jeremy already complains bitterly that he wasn’t taught certain things by his Church leaders. Imagine how much worse it would be if teachers were left to their own devices to cobble together a lesson from scratch every week on whatever topic they saw fit.
Let’s take these claims one at a time. “Translate doesn’t really mean translate.” Did Jeremy think that Joseph Smith knew Reformed Egyptian? Because that’s the only way he would actually be able to translate the gold plates, since Jeremy wants official definitions. We say “translate,” but a better word is actually “transmit,” and Joseph was the receiver, not the one doing the actual transmitting. Nothing Joseph ever did could be considered translating by the literal definition of the word. He was always receiving revelation.
“Horses aren’t really horses (they’re tapirs).” Maybe, maybe not. We don’t know. There is a lot of evidence that horses may have lived in the Americas during Nephite times. Regardless, horses were never ridden in the Book of Mormon, suggesting that even if they were real horses, they were a small breed unsuitable for riding.
But, while critics on the internet love to mock the idea of “loan-shifting,” it is a real, valid, well-documented phenomenon that occurs all over the world. For a few examples, American buffalos are not buffalos at all, but bison. They were simply called “buffalos” because European settlers thought they looked similar. Others called them “wild cows.” The word “hippopotamus” translates to “river horse” in Greek, despite hippos looking nothing like horses. The Spanish called badgers, raccoons, and cotamundis all by the same word, “tejon.” The Aztecs called European horses “deer,” while that was what the Maya called the Spanish goats and the Delaware Indians called cows. The Spanish referred to tapirs as “donkeys,” while some of the Maya similarly called horses and donkeys “tapirs.” There is also a report of at least one Spaniard describing a tapir as, “an elephant.” The most common Amerindian word for Spanish horses was, believe it or not, “dog.” Alpacas were described as “sheep” by Europeans seeing them for the first time. The Hebrew word for “deer” was also used for rams, ibexes, and mountain goats, depending on the context. In Sweden and Finland, some people referred to a reindeer as a “cow” or “ox.” “Wild ox” in the Bible usually meant an antelope or gazelle. The Miami Indians named sheep a word that translated to “looks-like-a-cow.” Etc. It’s super common, and what on Earth were the Nephites supposed to call a tapir or an alpaca or any of the other animals they’d never seen before? They didn’t have names for them in their native language.
So, maybe horses were horses, and maybe they were something else that sort of resembled a horse. Who knows?
“Chariots aren’t really chariots (since tapirs can’t pull chariots without wheels).” Chariots aren’t always wheeled chariots in the Bible, either. Sometimes they’re covered litters or palanquins, which were actually fairly common in Mesoamerica.
Beyond that, wheels are only ever mentioned in the Book of Mormon when quoting Isaiah, and wheeled toys have been excavated in Mesoamerica dating from Book of Mormon times.
“Steel isn’t really steel.” Steel isn’t really steel in the Bible, either. It’s tempered bronze. It’d stand to reason that the Nephites, who came from Jerusalem, would use the word in the same way that Israelites from Jerusalem did during the same time period, such as with the Vered Jericho Sword.
“The Hill Cumorah isn’t really in New York (it’s possibly in Mesoamerica).” We don’t know where the Hill Cumorah really is, because the Book of Mormon took place somewhere roughly the size of the state of Oregon, and we don’t know where that was. Mesoamerica is the best guess today because of a lot of research pointing in that direction, but we don’t know for certain.
We do know that the hill where the plates were found in New York is a drumlin formed by a glacier, and it is geologically impossible for it to hold a cave. Therefore, it can’t be the original Hill Cumorah, which has a cave filled with all the other Nephite records.
Moreover, this is a pretty rich argument coming from Jeremy, who placed the Hill Ramah/Cumorah in Canada, not New York during one of his arguments.
“Lamanites aren’t really the principal ancestors of the Native American Indians.” Nope, they’re not. And the Book of Mormon text never said they were. The Introduction did at one point, but that wasn’t added to the Book of Mormon until 1981, and the decision wasn’t unanimous because the Book of Mormon never said that. Of course it was removed after DNA testing became available and it was shown to be untrue. It was always a tenuous statement anyway, based on a few people’s opinions rather than revealed truth, so why wouldn’t the Church remove it when it was known to be wrong?
“Marriage isn’t really marriage (if they’re Joseph’s plural marriages? They’re mostly non-sexual spiritual sealings).” I don’t know that I’d say “mostly.” We know that Joseph did have sexual relations with some of his wives, and that he didn’t with others. We also know there were several different types of sealings, some of which differed from the ones we do today. Some of there were indeed sealings for the next life with no marriage in this one. Yet again, marriage and sealing are not the same thing.
“Yesterday’s prophets weren’t really prophets when they taught today’s false doctrine.” If a prophet is called of God, he’s really a prophet regardless of what Jeremy thinks. Sometimes prophets make mistakes, that’s true. They’re human, just like we all are. But there is a difference between something somebody taught a few times and established, official doctrine. Elders Christofferson, Andersen, and Oaks have all done their best to clarify that for us in recent years, precisely because people like Jeremy were getting confused over the issue.
Jeremy continues:
Most of the things in this Letter were things I learned on my own, doing my own outside studying, before the internet was really widespread. The internet makes it much, much easier to bring all these disparate sources together, for which I am very grateful. But study was possible prior to its advent, and all of this information was out there. Like I said way back when Jeremy first raised this issue, I don’t know if these are things that he necessarily should have known, but they are things he could have known. I found them, and he could have, too.
These answers were out there. That was the entire point of this series in the beginning, to show my sub members that these questions did have answers, and to show them where to start looking for them. If Jeremy didn’t find them, there are reasons for that. Maybe his leaders didn’t know it themselves. Maybe he didn’t study hard enough. Maybe he never figured out where to look. Maybe he did come across the information but didn’t pay attention in the moment. I don’t know. But I do know that all of this information was out there, and it’s been out there for a long, long time. We just have to put in the work to find it. Remember, the Lord loves effort on His behalf.
I’m going to close this one out here, so we’ll continue with more next week. In the meantime, please, if you’re not studying outside of Church, try to squeeze in a few minutes here and there to do it. There’s a lot out there for us to learn.
submitted by dice1899 to lds [link] [comments]
It’s funny; one of the common claims you hear from people who have left the Church is that the more they studied, the more they became convinced it wasn’t true. For me, it’s been the opposite. The more I study the Gospel and its history, the more deep my belief becomes. I’ve said before that you can’t study this stuff on your own, you have to study with the Spirit. Maybe that’s the difference, maybe not. I can’t read anyone else’s mind.
All I can do is speak to my own life, and it tells me that what you get out of an experience mirrors what you put into it. If you’re hoping to find reasons to leave the Church, you’ll find them. If you’re hoping to find reasons to stay, you’ll find those, too. And if you’re looking to grow your testimony while learning more about the Church you belong to, researching all of these questions on your own is a great way to do it.
Just don’t try to do it on your own. Don’t shut your Father in Heaven out of the process. He wants to help you. He wants to nudge you toward the answers that are available. He doesn’t want you to be alone, or scared, or hurting, or confused. He’s there, but you have to turn to Him. He won’t force the relationship, so you have to be the one to turn to Him. And if you do, He’ll send His Spirit to help guide you along your path.
Anyway, because this is such a long conclusion, I don’t know if we’ll finish the entire thing today. Most of this section is going to be an extended recap of everything we’ve covered already, but I’ll try to keep it from getting too boring.
It begins with a quote from Doctrines of Salvation by Joseph Fielding Smith:
“Mormonism, as it is called, must stand or fall on the story of Joseph Smith. He was either a Prophet of God, divinely called, properly appointed and commissioned or he was one of the biggest frauds this world has ever seen. There is no middle ground. If Joseph was a deceiver, who willfully attempted to mislead people, then he should be exposed, his claims should be refuted, and his doctrines shown to be false...” — PRESIDENT JOSEPH FIELDING SMITH, DOCTRINES OF SALVATION, P.188Jeremy doesn’t add any of the rest of the sermon, which goes on to say that Joseph was not a deceiver and his claims and doctrines are not shown to be false:
If Joseph was a deceiver, who willfully attempted to mislead people, then he should be exposed, his claims should be refuted, and his doctrines shown to be false, for the doctrines of an imposter cannot be made to harmonize in all particulars with divine truth. If his claims and declarations were built upon fraud and deceit, there would appear many errors and contradictions, which would be easy to detect. The doctrines of false teachers will not stand the test when tried by the accepted standards of measurement, the scriptures.It’s a strong testimony that reminds me very much of Elder Holland’s own powerful testimony, given in 2009. Speaking of Joseph and Hyrum Smith, he said:
There is no possibility of his being deceived, and on this issue we are ready to make our stand. I maintain that Joseph Smith was all that he claimed to be. His statements are too positive and his claims too great to admit of deception on his part. No imposter could have accomplished so great and wonderful a work. Had he been such, he would have been detected and exposed, and the plan would have failed and come to naught. ... Attacks have been made from the beginning to the present, and yet every one has failed. The world has been unable to place a finger upon anything that is inconsistent, or out of harmony in the revelations to Joseph Smith, with that which has been revealed before, or predicted by the prophets and the Lord Himself.
... For upwards of 100 years the revealed gospel has stood the test of criticism, attack, and bitter opposition. I think we can say that never before in recorded history do we have an account of truth passing through such a crucible and being put to such a test as has the truth known in the world as Mormonism.
Every attack has failed, whether that attack has been waged against Joseph Smith in person or against the Book of Mormon, which by the power of God he translated from ancient records, or against the revelations received by him personally from the Lord....
As one of a thousand elements of my own testimony of the divinity of the Book of Mormon, I submit this as yet one more evidence of its truthfulness. In this their greatest—and last—hour of need, I ask you: would these men blaspheme before God by continuing to fix their lives, their honor, and their own search for eternal salvation on a book (and by implication a church and a ministry) they had fictitiously created out of whole cloth?The reason I wanted to open this section with these testimonies is because Jeremy is about to spend the next 3 pages of his PDF listing all of the reasons why he no longer has a testimony, and why he thinks you should abandon yours along with him. This letter is his attempt to crawl “over or under or around the Book of Mormon to make [his] exit.”
Never mind that their wives are about to be widows and their children fatherless. Never mind that their little band of followers will yet be “houseless, friendless and homeless” and that their children will leave footprints of blood across frozen rivers and an untamed prairie floor. Never mind that legions will die and other legions live declaring in the four quarters of this earth that they know the Book of Mormon and the Church which espouses it to be true. Disregard all of that, and tell me whether in this hour of death these two men would enter the presence of their Eternal Judge quoting from and finding solace in a book which, if not the very word of God, would brand them as imposters and charlatans until the end of time? They would not do that! They were willing to die rather than deny the divine origin and the eternal truthfulness of the Book of Mormon.
For 179 years this book has been examined and attacked, denied and deconstructed, targeted and torn apart like perhaps no other book in modern religious history—perhaps like no other book in any religious history. And still it stands. Failed theories about its origins have been born and parroted and have died—from Ethan Smith to Solomon Spaulding to deranged paranoid to cunning genius. None of these frankly pathetic answers for this book has ever withstood examination because there is no other answer than the one Joseph gave as its young unlearned translator. In this I stand with my own great-grandfather, who said simply enough, “No wicked man could write such a book as this; and no good man would write it, unless it were true and he were commanded of God to do so.”
I testify that one cannot come to full faith in this latter-day work—and thereby find the fullest measure of peace and comfort in these, our times—until he or she embraces the divinity of the Book of Mormon and the Lord Jesus Christ, of whom it testifies. If anyone is foolish enough or misled enough to reject 531 pages of a heretofore unknown text teeming with literary and Semitic complexity without honestly attempting to account for the origin of those pages—especially without accounting for their powerful witness of Jesus Christ and the profound spiritual impact that witness has had on what is now tens of millions of readers—if that is the case, then such a person, elect or otherwise, has been deceived; and if he or she leaves this Church, it must be done by crawling over or under or around the Book of Mormon to make that exit.
.. I ask that my testimony of the Book of Mormon and all that it implies, given today under my own oath and office, be recorded by men on earth and angels in heaven. I hope I have a few years left in my “last days,” but whether I do or do not, I want it absolutely clear when I stand before the judgment bar of God that I declared to the world, in the most straightforward language I could summon, that the Book of Mormon is true, that it came forth the way Joseph said it came forth and was given to bring happiness and hope to the faithful in the travail of the latter days.
But Elder Holland and President Smith were right when they testified that these attacks have failed. There’s no reason for you to accept Jeremy’s word on any of it. I’ve spent nearly a year and a half going through every single question in his Letter and laying out all of the evidence to demonstrate that his attacks have no teeth. There’s simply nothing here.
And we’re going to go over everything again now to prove it.
Jeremy’s conclusion begins:
When I first discovered that gold plates were not used to translate the Book of Mormon, that Joseph Smith started polygamy and disturbingly practiced it in ways I never could have imagined, and that Joseph’s Book of Abraham translations and claims are gibberish...I went into a panic.The gold plates were used to translate the Book of Mormon, just not in the way that Jeremy envisioned. The Church has never hidden that Joseph Smith reinstated plural marriage, even taking out numerous affidavits from Joseph’s plural wives to confirm it. He did not practice it in “disturbing” ways, and if Jeremy could never have imagined it, that means he quite clearly did not ever read D&C 132. The Book of Abraham translations and claims are not gibberish—quite the contrary.
I desperately needed answers and I needed them immediately. Among the first sources I looked to for answers were official Church sources such as Mormon.org and LDS.org. I couldn’t find them.To this point in this series, I have cited 2,730 sources. Some of those are repeats, but I didn’t want to go through all of them individually to weed out the ones I’ve used more than once. However, 732 of them were taken directly from http://www.churchofjesuschrist.org, the updated version of http://www.LDS.org. This is not including other “official” Church sources that were not part of that 732 number, such as the Church’s YouTube channel, the Church News website, or the Joseph Smith Papers Project.
So, while Jeremy claims he couldn’t find any answers on official Church websites, I’ve found over 700 sources pointing to those answers on them. That tells me quite plainly that either he didn’t look very hard for them, or he rejected them because he wasn’t being honest when he said he wanted “official” answers to his questions.
I then went to FairMormon and Neal A. Maxwell Institute (formerly FARMS).Both very useful sites, with thousands of answers to questions on them. I didn’t go through and count all of the FAIR sources I’ve cited, but it’s easily in the hundreds, as well.
FairMormon and these unofficial apologists have done more to destroy my testimony than any “anti-Mormon” source ever could.That, I don’t believe, and I’ll tell you why. In the introduction to the CES Letter, Jeremy says that his faith crisis started in February of 2012. A paragraph earlier, he says that he left the Church in heart and mind, though not in deed, later that summer. That’s only 5 or 6 months.
You do not go from an active, practicing, faithful, believing Latter-day Saint to an atheist who loudly and repeatedly mocks God, the scriptures, the Spirit, the temple, the prophet, and anything else you can think of in that time span unless you are consuming large quantities of anti-LDS material. It just doesn’t happen. That’s flipping your life entirely upside down. If you’re questioning and sincerely researching from a variety of sources on both sides of the equation, pleading with God to direct you, even if you do eventually end up leaving the Church it’d take you longer than 6 months to get to the point Jeremy was at. That transformation is so abrupt, from one extreme to the other, in such a short amount of time that he had to be wallowing in material critical of the Church.
Either he wasn’t reading much of anything positive about the Church at all during that time period, or he’s not being honest about the timeline and the catalyst for his disaffection. So, he may not have been satisfied with the answers he found on FAIR or any other similar website, but they didn’t make him abandon his temple covenants and attack God and His Gospel the way he did. It was something else entirely that drove him to that.
I find their version of Mormonism to be alien and foreign to the Chapel Mormonism that I grew up in attending Church, seminary, reading scriptures, General Conferences, EFY, Church history tour, mission, and BYU.I have no idea what “Chapel Mormonism” is supposed to be, but there is nothing on FAIR that contradicts what you learn in Church, seminary, the scriptures, General Conference, EFY, Church history tours, missions, or BYU unless your teachers are way outside of the mainstream of the Church.
It frustrates me that apologists use so many words in their attempts to redefine words and their meanings.This made me laugh out loud. Jeremy has repeatedly used words incorrectly throughout this entire Letter. I’ve called out many of them, but there were even more that I let slide. In different places, he uses alternately the wrong words and words for synonyms that are not actually synonyms.
Their pet theories, claims, and philosophies of men mingled with scripture are not only contradictory to the scriptures and Church teachings I learned through correlated Mormonism...they're truly bizarre.Again, this is ironic. Jeremy’s claims have distorted the Gospel into something unrecognizable, and yet he insists that those refuting his claims are the ones who have it wrong. I didn’t see FAIR or the Interpreter Foundation saying that the Spirit confirms that cartoon characters are real, living beings, and I never saw Book of Mormon Central stating that the Witnesses believed they could see fairies.
And “correlated Mormonism”? Really? Again, correlation was the act of creating Church manuals so that you’d have the same lessons everywhere in the world. This is a weird, weird criticism to make. Jeremy already complains bitterly that he wasn’t taught certain things by his Church leaders. Imagine how much worse it would be if teachers were left to their own devices to cobble together a lesson from scratch every week on whatever topic they saw fit.
I am amazed to learn that, according to these unofficial apologists, translate doesn't really mean translate, horses aren't really horses (they’re tapirs), chariots aren’t really chariots (since tapirs can’t pull chariots without wheels), steel isn’t really steel, the Hill Cumorah isn’t really in New York (it’s possibly in Mesoamerica), Lamanites aren’t really the principal ancestors of the Native American Indians, marriage isn’t really marriage (if they’re Joseph’s plural marriages? They’re mostly non-sexual spiritual sealings), and yesterday’s prophets weren’t really prophets when they taught today’s false doctrine.Again, there’s no such thing as an “official apologist.” An “apologist,” by definition, is someone who defends something. It’s not an official title or designation.
Let’s take these claims one at a time. “Translate doesn’t really mean translate.” Did Jeremy think that Joseph Smith knew Reformed Egyptian? Because that’s the only way he would actually be able to translate the gold plates, since Jeremy wants official definitions. We say “translate,” but a better word is actually “transmit,” and Joseph was the receiver, not the one doing the actual transmitting. Nothing Joseph ever did could be considered translating by the literal definition of the word. He was always receiving revelation.
“Horses aren’t really horses (they’re tapirs).” Maybe, maybe not. We don’t know. There is a lot of evidence that horses may have lived in the Americas during Nephite times. Regardless, horses were never ridden in the Book of Mormon, suggesting that even if they were real horses, they were a small breed unsuitable for riding.
But, while critics on the internet love to mock the idea of “loan-shifting,” it is a real, valid, well-documented phenomenon that occurs all over the world. For a few examples, American buffalos are not buffalos at all, but bison. They were simply called “buffalos” because European settlers thought they looked similar. Others called them “wild cows.” The word “hippopotamus” translates to “river horse” in Greek, despite hippos looking nothing like horses. The Spanish called badgers, raccoons, and cotamundis all by the same word, “tejon.” The Aztecs called European horses “deer,” while that was what the Maya called the Spanish goats and the Delaware Indians called cows. The Spanish referred to tapirs as “donkeys,” while some of the Maya similarly called horses and donkeys “tapirs.” There is also a report of at least one Spaniard describing a tapir as, “an elephant.” The most common Amerindian word for Spanish horses was, believe it or not, “dog.” Alpacas were described as “sheep” by Europeans seeing them for the first time. The Hebrew word for “deer” was also used for rams, ibexes, and mountain goats, depending on the context. In Sweden and Finland, some people referred to a reindeer as a “cow” or “ox.” “Wild ox” in the Bible usually meant an antelope or gazelle. The Miami Indians named sheep a word that translated to “looks-like-a-cow.” Etc. It’s super common, and what on Earth were the Nephites supposed to call a tapir or an alpaca or any of the other animals they’d never seen before? They didn’t have names for them in their native language.
So, maybe horses were horses, and maybe they were something else that sort of resembled a horse. Who knows?
“Chariots aren’t really chariots (since tapirs can’t pull chariots without wheels).” Chariots aren’t always wheeled chariots in the Bible, either. Sometimes they’re covered litters or palanquins, which were actually fairly common in Mesoamerica.
Beyond that, wheels are only ever mentioned in the Book of Mormon when quoting Isaiah, and wheeled toys have been excavated in Mesoamerica dating from Book of Mormon times.
“Steel isn’t really steel.” Steel isn’t really steel in the Bible, either. It’s tempered bronze. It’d stand to reason that the Nephites, who came from Jerusalem, would use the word in the same way that Israelites from Jerusalem did during the same time period, such as with the Vered Jericho Sword.
“The Hill Cumorah isn’t really in New York (it’s possibly in Mesoamerica).” We don’t know where the Hill Cumorah really is, because the Book of Mormon took place somewhere roughly the size of the state of Oregon, and we don’t know where that was. Mesoamerica is the best guess today because of a lot of research pointing in that direction, but we don’t know for certain.
We do know that the hill where the plates were found in New York is a drumlin formed by a glacier, and it is geologically impossible for it to hold a cave. Therefore, it can’t be the original Hill Cumorah, which has a cave filled with all the other Nephite records.
Moreover, this is a pretty rich argument coming from Jeremy, who placed the Hill Ramah/Cumorah in Canada, not New York during one of his arguments.
“Lamanites aren’t really the principal ancestors of the Native American Indians.” Nope, they’re not. And the Book of Mormon text never said they were. The Introduction did at one point, but that wasn’t added to the Book of Mormon until 1981, and the decision wasn’t unanimous because the Book of Mormon never said that. Of course it was removed after DNA testing became available and it was shown to be untrue. It was always a tenuous statement anyway, based on a few people’s opinions rather than revealed truth, so why wouldn’t the Church remove it when it was known to be wrong?
“Marriage isn’t really marriage (if they’re Joseph’s plural marriages? They’re mostly non-sexual spiritual sealings).” I don’t know that I’d say “mostly.” We know that Joseph did have sexual relations with some of his wives, and that he didn’t with others. We also know there were several different types of sealings, some of which differed from the ones we do today. Some of there were indeed sealings for the next life with no marriage in this one. Yet again, marriage and sealing are not the same thing.
“Yesterday’s prophets weren’t really prophets when they taught today’s false doctrine.” If a prophet is called of God, he’s really a prophet regardless of what Jeremy thinks. Sometimes prophets make mistakes, that’s true. They’re human, just like we all are. But there is a difference between something somebody taught a few times and established, official doctrine. Elders Christofferson, Andersen, and Oaks have all done their best to clarify that for us in recent years, precisely because people like Jeremy were getting confused over the issue.
Jeremy continues:
Why is it that I had to first discover all of this—from the internet—at 31-years-old after over 20 years of high activity in the Church?My guess would be, because he didn’t study much Church history outside of Church. With a lay ministry, our teachers can only teach us what they already know, and they don’t know everything. We have to do the bulk of our studying on our own time. Not everyone enjoys that, and it’s hard to find the time to do it effectively. But if we don’t do it, we aren’t going to learn all that it’s possible to learn.
Most of the things in this Letter were things I learned on my own, doing my own outside studying, before the internet was really widespread. The internet makes it much, much easier to bring all these disparate sources together, for which I am very grateful. But study was possible prior to its advent, and all of this information was out there. Like I said way back when Jeremy first raised this issue, I don’t know if these are things that he necessarily should have known, but they are things he could have known. I found them, and he could have, too.
I wasn't just a seat warmer at Church.Nobody’s just a “seat warmer” at Church. We are all divine children of our Heavenly Father, and He loves each of us with all He has.
I’ve read the scriptures several times.Except, apparently, for D&C 132..
I've read hundreds of “approved” Church books.There is no such thing as “approved” or “unapproved” books or sources. We are not forbidden from reading anything. We are advised to read from the best books, but no list of those best books was ever provided to us, and we are allowed to read whatever we want. I’ve listed all kinds of sources in this series. None of them were ever prohibited by the Church.
I was an extremely dedicated missionary who voluntarily asked to stay longer in the mission field. I was very interested in and dedicated to the Gospel.That’s admirable of Jeremy. But nowhere in that list did I see that he actively studied Church history outside of Church, and nowhere did I see that he leaned on the Spirit while doing that studying. We’ve been encouraged from the very beginning to do our own studying and to learn all we can learn in this lifetime. We’ve also been encouraged repeatedly to study with the Lord’s help.
How am I supposed to feel about learning about these disturbing facts at 31-years-old? After making critical life decisions based on trust and faith that the Church was telling me the complete truth about its origins and history? After many books, seminary, EFY, Church history tour, mission, BYU, General Conferences, scriptures, Ensigns, and regular Church attendance?I’m not going to tell Jeremy that he should have known those things. But, like I said, he could have known them much earlier than he did. I understand that was shocking to him to discover he didn’t know as much as he thought he did. But the Church and its leaders did not hide this information from him. They published it, repeatedly including in the Ensign and in the Doctrine and Covenants. They discussed it in interviews. They mentioned it in General Conference. They released First Presidency statements. They’ve put online thousands and thousands of documents for us to view for ourselves.
These answers were out there. That was the entire point of this series in the beginning, to show my sub members that these questions did have answers, and to show them where to start looking for them. If Jeremy didn’t find them, there are reasons for that. Maybe his leaders didn’t know it themselves. Maybe he didn’t study hard enough. Maybe he never figured out where to look. Maybe he did come across the information but didn’t pay attention in the moment. I don’t know. But I do know that all of this information was out there, and it’s been out there for a long, long time. We just have to put in the work to find it. Remember, the Lord loves effort on His behalf.
I’m going to close this one out here, so we’ll continue with more next week. In the meantime, please, if you’re not studying outside of Church, try to squeeze in a few minutes here and there to do it. There’s a lot out there for us to learn.
2022.04.01 18:26 jeffersondavis-hater Thus Spake Zarathustra, Part One
1. The Three Metamorphoses
Three metamorphoses of the spirit do I designate to you: now the spirit becometh a camel, the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child.
Many heavy things are there for the spirit, the strong load-bearing spirit in which the reverence dwelleth: for the heavy and the heaviest longeth its strength.
What is heavy? so asketh the load-bearing spirit; then kneeleth it down like the camel, and wanteth to be well laden.
What is the heaviest things, ye heroes? asketh the load-bearing spirit, that I may take it upon me and rejoice in my strength.
Is it not this: To humiliate oneself in order to mortify one's pride? To exhibit one's folly in order to mock at one's wisdom?
Or is it this: To desert our cause when it celebrateth its triumph? To ascend high mountains to tempt the temper?
Or is it this: To feed on the acorns and grass of knowledge, and for the sake of truth to suffer hunger of soul?
Or is it this: To be sick and dismiss comforters, and make friends of the deaf, who never hear thy requests?
Or is it this: To go into foul water when it is the water of truth, and not disclaim cold frogs and hot toads?
Or is it this: To love those who despise us, and to give one's hand to the phantom when it is going to frighten us?
All these heaviest things the load-bearing spirit taketh upon itself: and like the camel, which, when laden, hasteneth into the wilderness, so hasteneth the spirit into its wilderness.
But in the loneliest wilderness happeneth the second metamorphosis: here the spirit becometh a lion; freedom will it capture, and lordship in its own wilderness.
Its last Lord it here seeketh: hostile will it be to him, and to its last God; for victory will it struggle with the great dragon.
What is the great dragon which the spirit is no longer inclined to call Lord and God? "Thou-shalt," is the great dragon called. But the spirit of the lion saith, "I will."
"Thou-shalt," lieth in its path, sparkling with gold—a scale-covered beast; and on every scale glittereth golden, "Thou shalt!"
The values of a thousand years glitter on those scales, and thus speaketh the mightiest of all dragons: "All the values of things—glitter on me.
All values have already been created, and all created values—do I represent. Verily, there shall be no 'I will' any more." Thus speaketh the dragon.
My brethren, wherefore is there need of the lion in the spirit? Why sufficeth not the beast of burden, which renounceth and is reverent?
To create new values—that, even the lion cannot yet accomplish: but to create itself freedom for new creating—that can the might of the lion do.
To create itself freedom, and give a holy Nay even unto duty: for that, my brethren, there is no need of the lion.
To assume the ride into new values—that is the most formidable assumption for a load-bearing and reverent spirit. Verily, unto such a spirit it is preying, and the work of a beast of prey.
As its holiest, it once loved "Thou-shalt": now it is forced to find illusion and arbitrariness even in the holiest things, that it may capture freedom from its love: the lion is needed for this capture.
But tell me, my brethren, what the child can do, which even the lion could not do? Why hath the preying lion still to become a child?
Innocence is the child, and forgetfulness, and a new beginning, a game, a self-rolling wheel, a first movement, a holy Yea.
Aye, for the game of creating, my brethren, there is needed a holy Yea unto life: its own will, willeth now the spirit; his own world winneth the world's outcast.
Three metamorphoses of the spirit have I designated to you: how the spirit became a camel, the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child.—
Thus spake Zarathustra. And at that time he abode in the town which is called The Pied Cow.
2. The Academic Chairs of Virtue
People commended unto Zarathustra a wise man, as one who could discourse well about sleep and virtue: greatly was he honoured and rewarded for it, and all the youths sat before his chair. To him went Zarathustra, and sat among the youths before his chair. And thus spake the wise man:
Respect and modesty in presence of sleep! That is the first thing! And to go out of the way of all who sleep badly and keep awake at night!
Modest is even the thief in the presence of sleep: He always stealeth softly through the night. Immodest, however, is the night-watchman; immodestly he carrieth his horn.
No small art is it to sleep: it is necessary for that purpose to keep awake all day.
Ten times a day must thou overcome thyself: that causeth wholesome weariness, and is poppy to the soul.
Ten times must thou reconcile again with thyself; for overcoming is bitterness, and badly sleep the unreconciled.
Ten truths must thou find during the day; otherwise wilt thou seek truth during the night, and they soul will have been hungry.
Ten times must thou laugh during the day, and be cheerful; otherwise thy stomach, the father of affliction, will disturb thee in the night.
Few people know it, but one must have all the virtues in order to sleep well. Shall I bear false witness? Shall I commit adultery?
Shall I covet my neighbour's maidservant? All that would ill accord with good sleep.
And even if one have all the virtues, there is still one thing needful: to send the virtues themselves to sleep at the right time.
That they may not quarrel with one another, the good females! And about thee, thou unhappy one!
Peace with God and thy neighbour: so desireth good sleep. And peace also with thy neighbour's devil! Otherwise it will haunt thee in the night.
Honour to the government, and obedience, and also to the crooked government! So desireth good sleep. How can I help it, if power liketh to walk on crooked legs?
He who leadeth his sheep to the greenest pasture, shall always be for me the best shepherd: so doth it accord with good sleep.
Many honours I want not, nor great treasures: they excite the spleen. But it is bad sleeping without a good name and a little treasure.
A small company is more welcome to me than a bad one: but they must come and go at the right time. So doth it accord with good sleep.
Well, also, do the poor in spirit please me: they promote sleep. Blessed are they, especially if one always give in to them.
Thus passeth the day unto the virtuous. When night cometh, then take I good care not to summon sleep. It disliketh to be summoned—sleep, the lord of the virtues!
But I think of what I have done and thought during the day. Thus ruminating, patient as a cow, I ask myself: What were they ten overcomings?
And what were the ten reconciliations, and the ten truths, and the ten laughters with which my heart enjoyed itself?
Thus pondering, and cradled by forty thoughts, it over taketh me all at once—sleep, the unsummoned, the lord of the virtues.
Sleep tappeth on mine eye, and it turneth heavy. Sleep toucheth my mouth, and it remaineth open.
Verily, on soft soles doth it come to me, the dearest of thieves, and stealeth from me my thoughts: stupid do I then stand, like this academic chair.
But not much longer do I then stand: I already lie.—
When Zarathustra heard the wise man thus speak, he laughed in his heart: for thereby had a light dawned upon him and thus spake he to his heart:
A fool seemeth this wise man with his forty thoughts: but I believe he knoweth well how to sleep.
Happy even is he who liveth near this wise man! Such sleep is contagious—even through a thick wall it is contagious.
A magic resideth even in his academic chair. And not in vain did the youths sit before the preacher of virtue.
His wisdom is to keep awake in order to sleep well. And verily, if life had no sense, and I had to choose nonsense, this would be the desirablest nonsense for me also.
Now know I well what people sought formerly above all else when they sought teachers of virtue. Good sleep they sought for themselves, and poppy-head virtues to promote it!
To all those belauded sages of the academic chairs, wisdom was sleep without dreams: they knew no higher significance of life.
Even at present, to be sure, there are some like this preacher of virtue, and not always so honourable: but their time is past. And not much longer do they stand: there they already lie.
Blessed are those drowsy ones: for they shall soon nod to sleep.—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
3. Backworldsmen
Once on a time, Zarathustra also cast his fancy beyond man, like all backworldsmen. The work of a suffering and tortured God, did the world then seem to me.
The dream—and diction—of a God, did the world then seem to me; coloured vapours before the eyes of a divinely dissatisfied one.
Good and evil, and joy and woe, and I and thou—coloured vapours did they seem to me before creative eyes. The creator wished to look away from himself,—thereupon he created the world.
Intoxicating joy is it for the sufferer to look away from his suffering and forget himself. Intoxicating joy and self-forgetting, did the world once seem to me.
This world, the eternally imperfect, and internal contradiction's image and imperfect image—an intoxicating joy to its imperfect creator:—thus did the world once seem to me.
Thus, once on a time, did I also cast my fancy beyond man, like all backworldsmen. Beyond man, forsooth?
Ah, ye brethren, that God whom I created was human work and human madness, like all gods!
A man was he, and only a poor fragment of a man and ego. Out of mine own ashes and glow it came unto me, that phantom. And verily, it came not unto me from beyond!
What happened, my brethren? I surpassed myself, the suffering one; I carried mine own ashes to the mountain; a brighter flame I contrived for myself. And lo! Thereupon the phantom withdrew from me!
To me the convalescent would it now be suffering and torment to believe in such phantoms: suffering would it now be to me, and humiliation. Thus I speak to backworldsmen.
Suffering was it, and impotence—that created all backworlds; and the short madness of happiness, which only the greatest sufferer experienceth.
Weariness, which seeketh to get the ultimate one leap, with a death-leap; a poor ignorant weariness, unwilling even to will any longer: that created all gods and backworlds.
Believe me, my brethren! It was the body which despaired of the body—it groped with the fingers or the infatuated spirit at the ultimate walls.
Believe me, my brethren! It was the body which despaired of the earth—it heard the bowels of existence speaking unto it.
And then it sought to get through the ultimate walls with its head—and not with its head only—into "the other world."
But that "other world" is well concealed from man, that dehumanised, inhuman world, which is a celestial naught; and the bowels of existence do not speak unto man, except as a man.
Verily, it is difficult to prove all being, and hard to make it speak. Tell me, ye brethren, is not the strangest of all things best proved?
Yea, this ego, with its contradiction and perplexity, speaketh most uprightly of its being—this creating, willing, evaluing ego, which is the measure and value of things.
And this most upright existence, the ego—it speaketh of the body, and still implieth the body, even when it museth and raveth and fluttereth with broken wings.
Always more uprightly learneth it to speak, the ego; and the more it learneth, the more doth it find titles, and honours for the body and the earth.
A new pride taught me mine ego, and that teach I unto men: no longer to thrust one's head into the sand of celestial things, but to carry it freely, a terrestrial head, which giveth meaning to the earth!
A new will teach I unto men: to choose that path which man hath followed blindly, and to approve of it—and no longer slink aside from it, like the sick and perishing!
The sick and perishing—it was they who despised the body and the earth, and invented the heavenly world, and the redeeming blood-drops; but even those sweet and sad poisons they borrowed from the body and the earth!
From their misery they sought to escape, and the stars were too remote for them. Then they sight: "O that there were heavenly paths by which to steal into another existence and into happiness!" Then they contrived for themselves their bypaths and bloody draughts!
Beyond the sphere of their body and this earth they now fancied themselves transported, these ungrateful ones. But to what did they owe the convulsion and rapture of their transport? To their body and this earth.
Gentle is Zarathustra to the sickly. Verily, he is not indignant of their modes of consolation and ingratitude. May they become convalescents and overcomers, and create higher bodies for themselves!
Neither is Zarathustra indignant at a convalescent who looketh tenderly on his delusions, and at midnight stealeth round the grave of his God; but sickness and a sick frame remain even in his tears.
Many sickly ones have there always been among those who muse, and languish for God; violently they hate the discerning ones, and the latest of virtues, which is uprightness.
Backward they always gaze toward dark ages: then, indeed, were delusion and faith something different. Raving of the reason was likeness to God, and doubt was sin.
Too well do I know those godlike ones: they insist on being believed in, and that doubt is sin. Too well, also, do I know what they themselves most believe in.
Verily, not in backworlds and redeeming blood-drops: but in the body do they also believe most; and their own body is for them the thing-in-itself.
But it is a sickly thing to them, and gladly would they get out of their skin. Therefore hearken they to the preachers of death, and themselves preach backworlds.
Hearken rather, my brethren, to the voice of the healthy body; it is a more upright and pure voice.
More uprightly and purely speaketh the healthy body, perfect and square-built; and it speaketh of the meaning of the earth.—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
4. The Dispisers of the Body
To the despisers of the body will I speak my word. I wish them neither to learn afresh, nor teach anew, but only to bid farewell to their own bodies,—and thus be dumb.
"Body am I, and soul"—so saith the child. And why should one not speak like children?
But the awakened one, the knowing own, saith: "Body am I entirely and nothing more; and soul is only the name of something in the body."
The body is a big sagacity, a plurality with one sense, a war and a peace, a flock and a shepherd.
An instrument of thy body is also thy little sagacity, my brother, which thou callest a "spirit"—a little instrument and plaything of thy big sagacity.
"Ego," sayest thou, and art proud of that word. But the greater thing—in which thou are unwilling to believe—is thy body with its big sagacity; it saith not "ego," but doeth it.
What the sense feeleth, what the spirit discerneth, hath never its end in itself. But sense and spirit would fain persuade thee that they are the end of all things: so vain are they.
Instruments and plaything are sense and spirit: behind them there is still the Self. The Self seeketh with the eyes of the senses, it hearkeneth also with the ears of the spirit.
Ever hearkeneth the Self, and seeketh; it compareth, mastereth, conquereth, and destroyeth. It ruleth, and is also the ego's ruler.
Behind thy thoughts and feelings, my brother, there is a mighty lord, and unknown sage —it is called Self; it dwelleth in thy body, it is thy body.
There is more sagacity in thy body than in thy best wisdom. And who then knoweth why thy body requireth just thy best wisdom?
Thy Self laugheth at thine ego, and its proud prancings. "What are these prancings and flights of thought unto me?" it saith to itself. "A by-way to my purpose. I am the leading-string of the ego, and the prompter of its notions."
The Self saith unto the ego: "Feel pain!" And thereupon it suffereth, and thinketh how it may put and end thereto—and for that very purpose it is meant to think.
The Self saith unto the ego: "Feel pleasure!" Thereupon it rejoiceth, and thinketh how it many offtimes rejoice—and for that very purpose it is meant to think.
To the dispisers of the body will I speak a word. That they dispise is caused by their esteem. What is it that created esteeming and despising and worth and will?
The creating Self created for itself esteeming and despising, it created for itself joy and woe. The creating body created for itself spirit, as a hand to its will.
Even in your folly and despising ye each serve your Self, ye despisers of the body. I tell you, your very self wanteth to die, and turneth away from life.
No longer can your Self do that which it desireth most:—
create beyond itself. That is what it desireth most; that is all its fervour.
But it is now too late to do so:—so your Self wisheth to succumb, ye despisers of the body.
To succumb—so wisheth your Self; and therefore have ye become despisers of the body. For ye can no longer create beyond yourselves.
And therefore are ye now angry with life and with the earth. And unconscious envy is in the sidelong look of your contempt.
I go not your way, ye despisers of the body! Ye are no bridges for me to the Superman!—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
5. Joys and Passions
My brother, when thou hast a virtue, and it is thine own virtue, thou hast it in common with no one.
To be sure, thou wouldst call it by name and caress it; thou wouldst pull its ears and amuse thyself with it.
And lo! Then hast thou its name in common with the people, and hast become one of the people and the herd with thy virtue!
Better for thee to say: "Ineffable is it, and nameless, that which is pain and sweetness to my soul, and also the hunger of my bowels."
Let thy virtue be too high for the familiarity of names, and if thou must speak of it, be not ashamed to stammer about it.
Thus speak and stammer: "That is my good, that do I love, thus doth it please me entirely, thus only do I desire the good.
Not as the law of a God do I desire it, not as a human law or a human need do I desire it; it is not to be a guide-post for me to superearths and paradises.
An earthly virtue is it which I love: little prudence is therein, and the least everyday wisdom.
But that bird built its nest beside me: therefore, I love and cherish it—now sitteth it beside me on its golden eggs."
Thus shouldst thou stammer, and praise thy virtue.
Once hadst thou passions and calledst them evil. But now hast thou only thy virtues: they grew out of thy passions.
Thou implantedst thy highest aim into the heart of those passions: then became they thy virtues and joys.
And though thou wert of the race of the hot-tempered, or of the voluptuous, or of the fanatical, or the vindictive;
All thy passions in the end became virtues, and all thy devils angels.
Once hadst thou wild dogs in thy cellar: but they changed at last into birds and charming songstresses.
Out of thy poisons brewedst thou balsam for thyself; thy cow, affliction, milkedst thou—now drinketh thou the sweet milk of her udder.
And nothing evil groweth in thee any longer, unless it be the evil that groweth out of the conflict of thy virtues.
My brother, if thou be fortunate, then wilt thou have one virtue and no more: thus goest thou easier over the bridge.
Illustrious is it to have many virtues, but a hard lot; and many a one hath gone into the wilderness and killed himself, because he is weary of being the battle and battlefield of virtues.
My brother, are war and battle evil? Necessary, however is the evil; necessary are the envy and the distrust and the back-biting among the virtues.
Lo! how each of thy virtues is covetous of the highest place; it wanteth thy whole spirit to be its herald, it wanteth thy whole power, in wrath, hatred, and love.
Jealous is every virtue of the others, and a dreadful thing is jealousy. Even virtues may succumb by jealousy.
He whom the flame of jealousy encompasseth, turneth at last, like the scorpion, the poisoned sting against himself.
Ah! my brother, hast thou never seen a virtue backbite and stab itself?
Man is something that hath to be surpassed: and therefore shalt thou love thy virtues,—for thou wilt succumb by them—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
6. The Pale Criminal
Ye do not mean to slay, ye judges and sacrificers, until the animal hath bowed its head? Lo! the pale criminal hath bowed his head: out of his eye speaketh the great contempt.
"Mine ego is something which is to be surpassed: mine ego is to me the great contempt of man": so speaketh it out of that eye.
When he judged himself—that was his supreme moment; let not the exalted one relapse again into his low estate!
There is no salvation for him who thus suffereth from himself, unless it be speedy death.
Your slaying, ye judges, shall be pity, and not revenge; and in that ye slay, see to it that ye yourselves justify life!
It is not enough that ye should reconcile with him whom ye slay. Let your sorrow be love to the Superman: thus will ye justify your own survival!
"Enemy" shall ye say but not "villain," "invalid" shall ye say but not "wretch," "fool" shall ye say but not "sinner."
And thou, red judge, if thou would say audibly all thou hast done in thought, then would every one cry: "Away with the nastiness and the virtulent reptile!"
But one thing is the thought, another thing is the deed, and another thing is the idea of the deed. The wheel of causality doth not roll between them.
An idea made this pale man pale. Adequate was he for his deed when he did it, but the idea of it, he could not endure when it was done.
Evermore did he now see himself as the doer of one deed. Madness, I call this: the exception reversed itself to the rule in him.
The streak of chalk bewitcheth the hen; the stroke he struck bewitched his weak reason. Madness after the deed, I call this.
Hearken, ye judges! There is another madness besides, and it is before the deed. Ah! ye have not gone deep enough into this soul!
Thus speaketh the red judge: "Why did this criminal commit murder? He meant to rob." I tell you, however, that his soul wanted blood, not booty: he thirsted for the happiness of the knife!
But his weak reason understood not this madness, and it persuaded him. "What matter about blood!" it said; "wishest thou not, at least, to make booty thereby? Or take revenge?"
And he hearkened unto his weak reason: like lead lay its words upon him—thereupon he robbed when he murdered. He did not mean to be ashamed of his madness.
And now once more lieth the lead of his guilt upon him, and once more is his weak reason so benumbled, so paralysed, and so dull.
Could he only shake his head, then would his burden roll off; but who shaketh that head?
What is this man? A mass of diseases that reach out into the world through the spirit; there they want to get their prey.
What is this man? A coil of wild serpents that are seldom at peace among themselves—so they go forth apart and seek prey in the world.
Look at that poor body! What it suffered and craved, the poor soul interpreted to itself—it interpreted it as murderous desire, and eagerness for the happiness of the knife.
Him who now turneth sick, the evil overtaketh which is now the evil: he seeketh to cause pain with that which causeth him pain. But there have been other ages, and another evil and good.
Once was doubt evil, and the will to Self. Then the invalid became a heretic or sorcerer; as heretic or sorcerer he suffered, and sought to cause suffering.
But this will not enter your ears; it hurteth your good people, ye tell me. But what doth it matter to me about your good people!
Many things in your good people cause me disgust, and verily, not their evil. I would that they had a madness by which they succumbed, like this pale criminal!
Verily, I would that their madness were called truth, or fidelity, or justice: but they have their virtue in order to live long, and in wretched self-complacency.
I am railing alongside the torrent; whoever is able to grasp me may grasp me! Your crutch, however, I am not.—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
7. Reading and Writing
Of all that is written, I love only what a person hath written with his blood. Write with blood, and thou wilt find that blood is spirit.
It is no easy task to understand unfamiliar blood; I hate the reading idlers.
He who knoweth the reader, doeth nothing more for the reader. Another century of readers—and the spirit itself will stink.
Every one being allowed to learn to read, ruineth in the long run not only writing but also thinking.
Once spirit was God, then it became man, and now it even becometh populace.
He that writeth in blood and proverbs doth not want to be read, but learnt by heart.
In the mountains the shortest way is from peak to peak, but for that route thou must have long legs. Proverbs should be peaks, and those spoken to should be big and tall.
The atmosphere rare and pure, danger near and the spirit full of a joyful wickedness: thus are things well matched.
I want to have goblins about me, for I am courageous. The courage which scareth away ghosts, createth for itself goblins—it wanteth to laugh.
I no longer feel in common with you; the very cloud which I see beneath me, the blackness and heaviness at which I laugh—that is your thunder-cloud.
Ye look aloft when ye long for exaltation; and I look downward because I am exalted.
Who among you can at the same time laugh and be exalted?
He who climbeth on the highest mountains, laugheth at all tragic plays and tragic realities.
Courageous, unconcerned, scornful, coercive—so wisdom wisheth us; she is a woman, and ever loveth only a warrior.
Ye tell me, "Life is hard to bear." But for what purpose should ye have your pride in the morning and your resignation in the evening?
Life is hard to bear: but do not affect to be so delicate! We are all of us fine sumpter asses and she-asses.
What have we in common with the rose-bud, which trembleth because a drop of dew hath formed upon it?
It is true we love life; not because we are wont to live, but because we are wont to love.
There is always some madness in love. But there is always, also, some method in madness.
And to me also, who appreciate life, the butterflies, and soap-bubbles, and whatever is like them amongst us, seem most to enjoy happiness.
To see these light, foolish, pretty, lively little sprites flit about—that moveth Zarathustra to tears and songs.
I should only believe in a God that would know how to dance.
And when I saw my devil, I found him serious, thorough, profound, solemn: he was the spirit of gravity—through him all things fall.
Not by wrath, but by laughter, do we slay. Come, let us slay the spirit of gravity!
I learned to walk; since then have I let myself run. I learned to fly; since then I do not need pushing in order to move from a spot.
Now am I light, now do I fly; now do I see myself under myself. Now there danceth a God in me.—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
8. The Tree on the Hill
Zarathustra's eye had perceived that a certain youth avoided him. And as he walked alone one evening over the hills surrounding the town called "The Pied Cow," behold, there found he the youth sitting leaning against a tree, and gazing with wearied look into the valley. Zarathustra thereupon laid hold of the tree beside which the youth sat, and spake thus:
"If I wished to shake this tree with my hands, I should not be able to do so.
But the wind, which we see not, troubleth and bendeth it and it listeth. We are sorest bent and troubled by invisible hands."
Thereupon the youth arose disconcerted, and said: "I hear Zarathustra, and just now was thinking of him!" Zarathustra answered:
"Why art thou frightened on that account?—But it is the same with man as with the tree.
The more he seeketh to rise into the height and light, the more vigorously do his roots struggle earthward, downward, into the dark and deep—into the evil."
"Yea, into the evil!" cried the youth. "How is it possible that thou hast discovered my soul?"
Zarathustra smiled, and said: "Many a soul one will never discover, unless one first invent it."
"Yea, into the evil!" cried the youth once more.
"Thou saidst the truth, Zarathustra. I trust myself no longer since I sought to rise into the height, and nobody trusteth me any longer; how doth that happen?
I change too quickly: my to-day refuteth my yesterday. I often overleap the steps when I clamber; for so doing, none of the steps pardons me.
When aloft, I find myself always alone. No one speaketh unto me; the frost of solitude maketh me tremble. What do I seek on the height?
My contempt and my longing increase together; the higher I clamber, the more do I despise him who clambereth. What doth he seek on the height?
How ashamed I am of my clambering and stumbling! How I mock at my violent panting! How I hate him who flieth! How tired I am on the height!"
Here the youth was silent. And Zarathustra contemplated the tree beside which they stood, and spake thus:
"This tree standeth here on the hills; it hath grown up high above man and beast.
And if it wanted to speak, it would have none who could understand it: so high hath it grown.
Now it waiteth and waiteth,—for what doth it wait? It dwelleth too close to the seat of the clouds; it waiteth perhaps for the first lightning?"
When Zarathustra had said this, the youth called out with violent gestures: "Yea, Zarathustra, thou speakest the truth. My destruction I longed for, when I desired to be on the height, and thou art the lightning for which I waited! Lo! what have I been since thou hast appeared amongst us? It is mine envy of thee that hath destroyed me!"—Thus spake the youth, and wept bitterly. Zarathustra, however, put his arm around him, and led the youth away with him.
And when they had walked a while together, Zarathustra began to speak thus:
It rendeth my heart. Better than thy words express it, thine eyes tell me all thy danger.
As thou art not free; thou still seekest freedom. Too unslept hath thy seeking made thee, and too wakeful.
On the open height wouldst thou be; for the stars thirsteth thy soul. But thy bad impulses also thirst for freedom.
Thy wild dogs want liberty; they bark for joy in their cellar when thy spirit endeavoureth to open all prison doors.
Still art thou a prisoner—it seemeth to me—who deviseth liberty for himself: ah! sharp becometh the soul of such prisoners, but also deceitful and wicked.
To purify himself, is still necessary for the freedman of the spirit. Much of the prison and the mould still remaineth in him: pure hath his eye still to become.
Yea, I know thy danger. But by my love and hope I conjure thee: cast not thy love and hope away!
Noble thou feelst thyself still, and noble others also feel thee still, though they bear thee a grudge and cast evil looks. Know this, that to everybody a noble one standeth in the way.
Also to the good, a noble one standeth in the way: and even when they call him a good man, they want thereby to put him aside.
The new, would the noble man create, and a new virtue. The old, wanteth the good man, and that the old should be conserved.
But it is not the danger of the noble man to turn a good man, but lest he should become a blusterer, a scoffer, or a destroyer.
Ah! I have known noble ones who lost their highest hope. And then they disparaged all high hopes.
Then lived they shamelessly in temporary pleasures, and beyond the day had hardly an aim.
"Spirit is also voluptousness,"—said they. Then broke the wings of their spirit; and now it creepeth about, and defileth where it gnaweth.
Once they thought of becoming heroes; but sensualists are they now. A trouble and a terror is the hero to them.
But by my love and hope I conjure thee: cast not away the hero in thy soul! Maintain holy thy highest hope!—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
9. The Preachers of Death
There are preachers of death: and the earth is full of those to whom desistance from life must be preached.
Full is the earth of the superfluous; marred is life by the many-too-many. May they be decoyed out of this life by the "life eternal"!
"The yellow ones": so are called the preachers of death, or "the black ones." But I will show them unto you in other colours besides.
There are the terrible ones who carry about in themselves the beast of prey, and have no choice except lusts or self-laceration. And even their lusts are self-laceration.
They have not yet become men, those terrible ones: may they preach desistance from life, and pass away themselves!
There are the spiritually consumptive ones: hardly are they born when they begin to die, and long for doctrines of lassitude and renunciation.
They would fain be dead, and we should approve of their wish! Let us beware of awakening those dead ones, and of damaging those living coffins!
They meet an invalid, or an old man, or a corpse—and immediately they say: "Life is refuted!"
But they are only refuted, and their eye, which seeth only one aspect of existence.
Shrouded in thick melancholy, and eager for the little casualties that bring death: thus do they wait, and clench their teeth.
Or else, they grasp at sweetmeats, and mock at their childishness thereby: they cling to their straw of life, and mock at their still clinging to it.
Their wisdom speaketh thus: "A fool, he who remaineth alive; but so far are we fools! And that is the foolishest thing in life!"
"Life is only suffering": so say others, and lie not. Then see to it that ye cease! See to it that the life ceaseth which is only suffering!
And let this be the teaching of your virtue: "Thou shalt slay thyself! Thou shalt steal away from thyself!"— "Lust is sin,"—so say some who preach death—"let us go apart and beget no children!"
"Giving birth is troublesome,"—say others—"why still give birth? One beareth only the unfortunate!" And they also are preachers of death.
"Pity is necessary,"—so saith a third party. "Take what I have! Take what I am! So much less doth life bind me!"
Were they consistently pitiful, then would they make their neighbours sick of life. To be wicked—that would be their true goodness.
But they want to be rid of life; what care they if they bind others still faster with their chains and gifts!—
And ye also, to whom life is rough labour and disquiet, are ye not very tired of life? Are ye not very ripe for the sermon of death?
All ye to whom rough labour is dear, and the rapid, new, and strange—ye put up with yourselves badly; your diligence is flight, and the will to self-forgetfulness.
If ye believed more in life, then would ye devote yourselves less to the momentary. But for waiting, ye have not enough capacity in you—nor even for idling!
Everywhere resoundeth the voices of those who preach death; and the earth is full of those whom death hath to be preached.
Or "life eternal"; it is all the same to me—if only they pass away quickly!—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
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Three metamorphoses of the spirit do I designate to you: now the spirit becometh a camel, the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child.
Many heavy things are there for the spirit, the strong load-bearing spirit in which the reverence dwelleth: for the heavy and the heaviest longeth its strength.
What is heavy? so asketh the load-bearing spirit; then kneeleth it down like the camel, and wanteth to be well laden.
What is the heaviest things, ye heroes? asketh the load-bearing spirit, that I may take it upon me and rejoice in my strength.
Is it not this: To humiliate oneself in order to mortify one's pride? To exhibit one's folly in order to mock at one's wisdom?
Or is it this: To desert our cause when it celebrateth its triumph? To ascend high mountains to tempt the temper?
Or is it this: To feed on the acorns and grass of knowledge, and for the sake of truth to suffer hunger of soul?
Or is it this: To be sick and dismiss comforters, and make friends of the deaf, who never hear thy requests?
Or is it this: To go into foul water when it is the water of truth, and not disclaim cold frogs and hot toads?
Or is it this: To love those who despise us, and to give one's hand to the phantom when it is going to frighten us?
All these heaviest things the load-bearing spirit taketh upon itself: and like the camel, which, when laden, hasteneth into the wilderness, so hasteneth the spirit into its wilderness.
But in the loneliest wilderness happeneth the second metamorphosis: here the spirit becometh a lion; freedom will it capture, and lordship in its own wilderness.
Its last Lord it here seeketh: hostile will it be to him, and to its last God; for victory will it struggle with the great dragon.
What is the great dragon which the spirit is no longer inclined to call Lord and God? "Thou-shalt," is the great dragon called. But the spirit of the lion saith, "I will."
"Thou-shalt," lieth in its path, sparkling with gold—a scale-covered beast; and on every scale glittereth golden, "Thou shalt!"
The values of a thousand years glitter on those scales, and thus speaketh the mightiest of all dragons: "All the values of things—glitter on me.
All values have already been created, and all created values—do I represent. Verily, there shall be no 'I will' any more." Thus speaketh the dragon.
My brethren, wherefore is there need of the lion in the spirit? Why sufficeth not the beast of burden, which renounceth and is reverent?
To create new values—that, even the lion cannot yet accomplish: but to create itself freedom for new creating—that can the might of the lion do.
To create itself freedom, and give a holy Nay even unto duty: for that, my brethren, there is no need of the lion.
To assume the ride into new values—that is the most formidable assumption for a load-bearing and reverent spirit. Verily, unto such a spirit it is preying, and the work of a beast of prey.
As its holiest, it once loved "Thou-shalt": now it is forced to find illusion and arbitrariness even in the holiest things, that it may capture freedom from its love: the lion is needed for this capture.
But tell me, my brethren, what the child can do, which even the lion could not do? Why hath the preying lion still to become a child?
Innocence is the child, and forgetfulness, and a new beginning, a game, a self-rolling wheel, a first movement, a holy Yea.
Aye, for the game of creating, my brethren, there is needed a holy Yea unto life: its own will, willeth now the spirit; his own world winneth the world's outcast.
Three metamorphoses of the spirit have I designated to you: how the spirit became a camel, the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child.—
Thus spake Zarathustra. And at that time he abode in the town which is called The Pied Cow.
2. The Academic Chairs of Virtue
People commended unto Zarathustra a wise man, as one who could discourse well about sleep and virtue: greatly was he honoured and rewarded for it, and all the youths sat before his chair. To him went Zarathustra, and sat among the youths before his chair. And thus spake the wise man:
Respect and modesty in presence of sleep! That is the first thing! And to go out of the way of all who sleep badly and keep awake at night!
Modest is even the thief in the presence of sleep: He always stealeth softly through the night. Immodest, however, is the night-watchman; immodestly he carrieth his horn.
No small art is it to sleep: it is necessary for that purpose to keep awake all day.
Ten times a day must thou overcome thyself: that causeth wholesome weariness, and is poppy to the soul.
Ten times must thou reconcile again with thyself; for overcoming is bitterness, and badly sleep the unreconciled.
Ten truths must thou find during the day; otherwise wilt thou seek truth during the night, and they soul will have been hungry.
Ten times must thou laugh during the day, and be cheerful; otherwise thy stomach, the father of affliction, will disturb thee in the night.
Few people know it, but one must have all the virtues in order to sleep well. Shall I bear false witness? Shall I commit adultery?
Shall I covet my neighbour's maidservant? All that would ill accord with good sleep.
And even if one have all the virtues, there is still one thing needful: to send the virtues themselves to sleep at the right time.
That they may not quarrel with one another, the good females! And about thee, thou unhappy one!
Peace with God and thy neighbour: so desireth good sleep. And peace also with thy neighbour's devil! Otherwise it will haunt thee in the night.
Honour to the government, and obedience, and also to the crooked government! So desireth good sleep. How can I help it, if power liketh to walk on crooked legs?
He who leadeth his sheep to the greenest pasture, shall always be for me the best shepherd: so doth it accord with good sleep.
Many honours I want not, nor great treasures: they excite the spleen. But it is bad sleeping without a good name and a little treasure.
A small company is more welcome to me than a bad one: but they must come and go at the right time. So doth it accord with good sleep.
Well, also, do the poor in spirit please me: they promote sleep. Blessed are they, especially if one always give in to them.
Thus passeth the day unto the virtuous. When night cometh, then take I good care not to summon sleep. It disliketh to be summoned—sleep, the lord of the virtues!
But I think of what I have done and thought during the day. Thus ruminating, patient as a cow, I ask myself: What were they ten overcomings?
And what were the ten reconciliations, and the ten truths, and the ten laughters with which my heart enjoyed itself?
Thus pondering, and cradled by forty thoughts, it over taketh me all at once—sleep, the unsummoned, the lord of the virtues.
Sleep tappeth on mine eye, and it turneth heavy. Sleep toucheth my mouth, and it remaineth open.
Verily, on soft soles doth it come to me, the dearest of thieves, and stealeth from me my thoughts: stupid do I then stand, like this academic chair.
But not much longer do I then stand: I already lie.—
When Zarathustra heard the wise man thus speak, he laughed in his heart: for thereby had a light dawned upon him and thus spake he to his heart:
A fool seemeth this wise man with his forty thoughts: but I believe he knoweth well how to sleep.
Happy even is he who liveth near this wise man! Such sleep is contagious—even through a thick wall it is contagious.
A magic resideth even in his academic chair. And not in vain did the youths sit before the preacher of virtue.
His wisdom is to keep awake in order to sleep well. And verily, if life had no sense, and I had to choose nonsense, this would be the desirablest nonsense for me also.
Now know I well what people sought formerly above all else when they sought teachers of virtue. Good sleep they sought for themselves, and poppy-head virtues to promote it!
To all those belauded sages of the academic chairs, wisdom was sleep without dreams: they knew no higher significance of life.
Even at present, to be sure, there are some like this preacher of virtue, and not always so honourable: but their time is past. And not much longer do they stand: there they already lie.
Blessed are those drowsy ones: for they shall soon nod to sleep.—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
3. Backworldsmen
Once on a time, Zarathustra also cast his fancy beyond man, like all backworldsmen. The work of a suffering and tortured God, did the world then seem to me.
The dream—and diction—of a God, did the world then seem to me; coloured vapours before the eyes of a divinely dissatisfied one.
Good and evil, and joy and woe, and I and thou—coloured vapours did they seem to me before creative eyes. The creator wished to look away from himself,—thereupon he created the world.
Intoxicating joy is it for the sufferer to look away from his suffering and forget himself. Intoxicating joy and self-forgetting, did the world once seem to me.
This world, the eternally imperfect, and internal contradiction's image and imperfect image—an intoxicating joy to its imperfect creator:—thus did the world once seem to me.
Thus, once on a time, did I also cast my fancy beyond man, like all backworldsmen. Beyond man, forsooth?
Ah, ye brethren, that God whom I created was human work and human madness, like all gods!
A man was he, and only a poor fragment of a man and ego. Out of mine own ashes and glow it came unto me, that phantom. And verily, it came not unto me from beyond!
What happened, my brethren? I surpassed myself, the suffering one; I carried mine own ashes to the mountain; a brighter flame I contrived for myself. And lo! Thereupon the phantom withdrew from me!
To me the convalescent would it now be suffering and torment to believe in such phantoms: suffering would it now be to me, and humiliation. Thus I speak to backworldsmen.
Suffering was it, and impotence—that created all backworlds; and the short madness of happiness, which only the greatest sufferer experienceth.
Weariness, which seeketh to get the ultimate one leap, with a death-leap; a poor ignorant weariness, unwilling even to will any longer: that created all gods and backworlds.
Believe me, my brethren! It was the body which despaired of the body—it groped with the fingers or the infatuated spirit at the ultimate walls.
Believe me, my brethren! It was the body which despaired of the earth—it heard the bowels of existence speaking unto it.
And then it sought to get through the ultimate walls with its head—and not with its head only—into "the other world."
But that "other world" is well concealed from man, that dehumanised, inhuman world, which is a celestial naught; and the bowels of existence do not speak unto man, except as a man.
Verily, it is difficult to prove all being, and hard to make it speak. Tell me, ye brethren, is not the strangest of all things best proved?
Yea, this ego, with its contradiction and perplexity, speaketh most uprightly of its being—this creating, willing, evaluing ego, which is the measure and value of things.
And this most upright existence, the ego—it speaketh of the body, and still implieth the body, even when it museth and raveth and fluttereth with broken wings.
Always more uprightly learneth it to speak, the ego; and the more it learneth, the more doth it find titles, and honours for the body and the earth.
A new pride taught me mine ego, and that teach I unto men: no longer to thrust one's head into the sand of celestial things, but to carry it freely, a terrestrial head, which giveth meaning to the earth!
A new will teach I unto men: to choose that path which man hath followed blindly, and to approve of it—and no longer slink aside from it, like the sick and perishing!
The sick and perishing—it was they who despised the body and the earth, and invented the heavenly world, and the redeeming blood-drops; but even those sweet and sad poisons they borrowed from the body and the earth!
From their misery they sought to escape, and the stars were too remote for them. Then they sight: "O that there were heavenly paths by which to steal into another existence and into happiness!" Then they contrived for themselves their bypaths and bloody draughts!
Beyond the sphere of their body and this earth they now fancied themselves transported, these ungrateful ones. But to what did they owe the convulsion and rapture of their transport? To their body and this earth.
Gentle is Zarathustra to the sickly. Verily, he is not indignant of their modes of consolation and ingratitude. May they become convalescents and overcomers, and create higher bodies for themselves!
Neither is Zarathustra indignant at a convalescent who looketh tenderly on his delusions, and at midnight stealeth round the grave of his God; but sickness and a sick frame remain even in his tears.
Many sickly ones have there always been among those who muse, and languish for God; violently they hate the discerning ones, and the latest of virtues, which is uprightness.
Backward they always gaze toward dark ages: then, indeed, were delusion and faith something different. Raving of the reason was likeness to God, and doubt was sin.
Too well do I know those godlike ones: they insist on being believed in, and that doubt is sin. Too well, also, do I know what they themselves most believe in.
Verily, not in backworlds and redeeming blood-drops: but in the body do they also believe most; and their own body is for them the thing-in-itself.
But it is a sickly thing to them, and gladly would they get out of their skin. Therefore hearken they to the preachers of death, and themselves preach backworlds.
Hearken rather, my brethren, to the voice of the healthy body; it is a more upright and pure voice.
More uprightly and purely speaketh the healthy body, perfect and square-built; and it speaketh of the meaning of the earth.—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
4. The Dispisers of the Body
To the despisers of the body will I speak my word. I wish them neither to learn afresh, nor teach anew, but only to bid farewell to their own bodies,—and thus be dumb.
"Body am I, and soul"—so saith the child. And why should one not speak like children?
But the awakened one, the knowing own, saith: "Body am I entirely and nothing more; and soul is only the name of something in the body."
The body is a big sagacity, a plurality with one sense, a war and a peace, a flock and a shepherd.
An instrument of thy body is also thy little sagacity, my brother, which thou callest a "spirit"—a little instrument and plaything of thy big sagacity.
"Ego," sayest thou, and art proud of that word. But the greater thing—in which thou are unwilling to believe—is thy body with its big sagacity; it saith not "ego," but doeth it.
What the sense feeleth, what the spirit discerneth, hath never its end in itself. But sense and spirit would fain persuade thee that they are the end of all things: so vain are they.
Instruments and plaything are sense and spirit: behind them there is still the Self. The Self seeketh with the eyes of the senses, it hearkeneth also with the ears of the spirit.
Ever hearkeneth the Self, and seeketh; it compareth, mastereth, conquereth, and destroyeth. It ruleth, and is also the ego's ruler.
Behind thy thoughts and feelings, my brother, there is a mighty lord, and unknown sage —it is called Self; it dwelleth in thy body, it is thy body.
There is more sagacity in thy body than in thy best wisdom. And who then knoweth why thy body requireth just thy best wisdom?
Thy Self laugheth at thine ego, and its proud prancings. "What are these prancings and flights of thought unto me?" it saith to itself. "A by-way to my purpose. I am the leading-string of the ego, and the prompter of its notions."
The Self saith unto the ego: "Feel pain!" And thereupon it suffereth, and thinketh how it may put and end thereto—and for that very purpose it is meant to think.
The Self saith unto the ego: "Feel pleasure!" Thereupon it rejoiceth, and thinketh how it many offtimes rejoice—and for that very purpose it is meant to think.
To the dispisers of the body will I speak a word. That they dispise is caused by their esteem. What is it that created esteeming and despising and worth and will?
The creating Self created for itself esteeming and despising, it created for itself joy and woe. The creating body created for itself spirit, as a hand to its will.
Even in your folly and despising ye each serve your Self, ye despisers of the body. I tell you, your very self wanteth to die, and turneth away from life.
No longer can your Self do that which it desireth most:—
create beyond itself. That is what it desireth most; that is all its fervour.
But it is now too late to do so:—so your Self wisheth to succumb, ye despisers of the body.
To succumb—so wisheth your Self; and therefore have ye become despisers of the body. For ye can no longer create beyond yourselves.
And therefore are ye now angry with life and with the earth. And unconscious envy is in the sidelong look of your contempt.
I go not your way, ye despisers of the body! Ye are no bridges for me to the Superman!—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
5. Joys and Passions
My brother, when thou hast a virtue, and it is thine own virtue, thou hast it in common with no one.
To be sure, thou wouldst call it by name and caress it; thou wouldst pull its ears and amuse thyself with it.
And lo! Then hast thou its name in common with the people, and hast become one of the people and the herd with thy virtue!
Better for thee to say: "Ineffable is it, and nameless, that which is pain and sweetness to my soul, and also the hunger of my bowels."
Let thy virtue be too high for the familiarity of names, and if thou must speak of it, be not ashamed to stammer about it.
Thus speak and stammer: "That is my good, that do I love, thus doth it please me entirely, thus only do I desire the good.
Not as the law of a God do I desire it, not as a human law or a human need do I desire it; it is not to be a guide-post for me to superearths and paradises.
An earthly virtue is it which I love: little prudence is therein, and the least everyday wisdom.
But that bird built its nest beside me: therefore, I love and cherish it—now sitteth it beside me on its golden eggs."
Thus shouldst thou stammer, and praise thy virtue.
Once hadst thou passions and calledst them evil. But now hast thou only thy virtues: they grew out of thy passions.
Thou implantedst thy highest aim into the heart of those passions: then became they thy virtues and joys.
And though thou wert of the race of the hot-tempered, or of the voluptuous, or of the fanatical, or the vindictive;
All thy passions in the end became virtues, and all thy devils angels.
Once hadst thou wild dogs in thy cellar: but they changed at last into birds and charming songstresses.
Out of thy poisons brewedst thou balsam for thyself; thy cow, affliction, milkedst thou—now drinketh thou the sweet milk of her udder.
And nothing evil groweth in thee any longer, unless it be the evil that groweth out of the conflict of thy virtues.
My brother, if thou be fortunate, then wilt thou have one virtue and no more: thus goest thou easier over the bridge.
Illustrious is it to have many virtues, but a hard lot; and many a one hath gone into the wilderness and killed himself, because he is weary of being the battle and battlefield of virtues.
My brother, are war and battle evil? Necessary, however is the evil; necessary are the envy and the distrust and the back-biting among the virtues.
Lo! how each of thy virtues is covetous of the highest place; it wanteth thy whole spirit to be its herald, it wanteth thy whole power, in wrath, hatred, and love.
Jealous is every virtue of the others, and a dreadful thing is jealousy. Even virtues may succumb by jealousy.
He whom the flame of jealousy encompasseth, turneth at last, like the scorpion, the poisoned sting against himself.
Ah! my brother, hast thou never seen a virtue backbite and stab itself?
Man is something that hath to be surpassed: and therefore shalt thou love thy virtues,—for thou wilt succumb by them—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
6. The Pale Criminal
Ye do not mean to slay, ye judges and sacrificers, until the animal hath bowed its head? Lo! the pale criminal hath bowed his head: out of his eye speaketh the great contempt.
"Mine ego is something which is to be surpassed: mine ego is to me the great contempt of man": so speaketh it out of that eye.
When he judged himself—that was his supreme moment; let not the exalted one relapse again into his low estate!
There is no salvation for him who thus suffereth from himself, unless it be speedy death.
Your slaying, ye judges, shall be pity, and not revenge; and in that ye slay, see to it that ye yourselves justify life!
It is not enough that ye should reconcile with him whom ye slay. Let your sorrow be love to the Superman: thus will ye justify your own survival!
"Enemy" shall ye say but not "villain," "invalid" shall ye say but not "wretch," "fool" shall ye say but not "sinner."
And thou, red judge, if thou would say audibly all thou hast done in thought, then would every one cry: "Away with the nastiness and the virtulent reptile!"
But one thing is the thought, another thing is the deed, and another thing is the idea of the deed. The wheel of causality doth not roll between them.
An idea made this pale man pale. Adequate was he for his deed when he did it, but the idea of it, he could not endure when it was done.
Evermore did he now see himself as the doer of one deed. Madness, I call this: the exception reversed itself to the rule in him.
The streak of chalk bewitcheth the hen; the stroke he struck bewitched his weak reason. Madness after the deed, I call this.
Hearken, ye judges! There is another madness besides, and it is before the deed. Ah! ye have not gone deep enough into this soul!
Thus speaketh the red judge: "Why did this criminal commit murder? He meant to rob." I tell you, however, that his soul wanted blood, not booty: he thirsted for the happiness of the knife!
But his weak reason understood not this madness, and it persuaded him. "What matter about blood!" it said; "wishest thou not, at least, to make booty thereby? Or take revenge?"
And he hearkened unto his weak reason: like lead lay its words upon him—thereupon he robbed when he murdered. He did not mean to be ashamed of his madness.
And now once more lieth the lead of his guilt upon him, and once more is his weak reason so benumbled, so paralysed, and so dull.
Could he only shake his head, then would his burden roll off; but who shaketh that head?
What is this man? A mass of diseases that reach out into the world through the spirit; there they want to get their prey.
What is this man? A coil of wild serpents that are seldom at peace among themselves—so they go forth apart and seek prey in the world.
Look at that poor body! What it suffered and craved, the poor soul interpreted to itself—it interpreted it as murderous desire, and eagerness for the happiness of the knife.
Him who now turneth sick, the evil overtaketh which is now the evil: he seeketh to cause pain with that which causeth him pain. But there have been other ages, and another evil and good.
Once was doubt evil, and the will to Self. Then the invalid became a heretic or sorcerer; as heretic or sorcerer he suffered, and sought to cause suffering.
But this will not enter your ears; it hurteth your good people, ye tell me. But what doth it matter to me about your good people!
Many things in your good people cause me disgust, and verily, not their evil. I would that they had a madness by which they succumbed, like this pale criminal!
Verily, I would that their madness were called truth, or fidelity, or justice: but they have their virtue in order to live long, and in wretched self-complacency.
I am railing alongside the torrent; whoever is able to grasp me may grasp me! Your crutch, however, I am not.—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
7. Reading and Writing
Of all that is written, I love only what a person hath written with his blood. Write with blood, and thou wilt find that blood is spirit.
It is no easy task to understand unfamiliar blood; I hate the reading idlers.
He who knoweth the reader, doeth nothing more for the reader. Another century of readers—and the spirit itself will stink.
Every one being allowed to learn to read, ruineth in the long run not only writing but also thinking.
Once spirit was God, then it became man, and now it even becometh populace.
He that writeth in blood and proverbs doth not want to be read, but learnt by heart.
In the mountains the shortest way is from peak to peak, but for that route thou must have long legs. Proverbs should be peaks, and those spoken to should be big and tall.
The atmosphere rare and pure, danger near and the spirit full of a joyful wickedness: thus are things well matched.
I want to have goblins about me, for I am courageous. The courage which scareth away ghosts, createth for itself goblins—it wanteth to laugh.
I no longer feel in common with you; the very cloud which I see beneath me, the blackness and heaviness at which I laugh—that is your thunder-cloud.
Ye look aloft when ye long for exaltation; and I look downward because I am exalted.
Who among you can at the same time laugh and be exalted?
He who climbeth on the highest mountains, laugheth at all tragic plays and tragic realities.
Courageous, unconcerned, scornful, coercive—so wisdom wisheth us; she is a woman, and ever loveth only a warrior.
Ye tell me, "Life is hard to bear." But for what purpose should ye have your pride in the morning and your resignation in the evening?
Life is hard to bear: but do not affect to be so delicate! We are all of us fine sumpter asses and she-asses.
What have we in common with the rose-bud, which trembleth because a drop of dew hath formed upon it?
It is true we love life; not because we are wont to live, but because we are wont to love.
There is always some madness in love. But there is always, also, some method in madness.
And to me also, who appreciate life, the butterflies, and soap-bubbles, and whatever is like them amongst us, seem most to enjoy happiness.
To see these light, foolish, pretty, lively little sprites flit about—that moveth Zarathustra to tears and songs.
I should only believe in a God that would know how to dance.
And when I saw my devil, I found him serious, thorough, profound, solemn: he was the spirit of gravity—through him all things fall.
Not by wrath, but by laughter, do we slay. Come, let us slay the spirit of gravity!
I learned to walk; since then have I let myself run. I learned to fly; since then I do not need pushing in order to move from a spot.
Now am I light, now do I fly; now do I see myself under myself. Now there danceth a God in me.—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
8. The Tree on the Hill
Zarathustra's eye had perceived that a certain youth avoided him. And as he walked alone one evening over the hills surrounding the town called "The Pied Cow," behold, there found he the youth sitting leaning against a tree, and gazing with wearied look into the valley. Zarathustra thereupon laid hold of the tree beside which the youth sat, and spake thus:
"If I wished to shake this tree with my hands, I should not be able to do so.
But the wind, which we see not, troubleth and bendeth it and it listeth. We are sorest bent and troubled by invisible hands."
Thereupon the youth arose disconcerted, and said: "I hear Zarathustra, and just now was thinking of him!" Zarathustra answered:
"Why art thou frightened on that account?—But it is the same with man as with the tree.
The more he seeketh to rise into the height and light, the more vigorously do his roots struggle earthward, downward, into the dark and deep—into the evil."
"Yea, into the evil!" cried the youth. "How is it possible that thou hast discovered my soul?"
Zarathustra smiled, and said: "Many a soul one will never discover, unless one first invent it."
"Yea, into the evil!" cried the youth once more.
"Thou saidst the truth, Zarathustra. I trust myself no longer since I sought to rise into the height, and nobody trusteth me any longer; how doth that happen?
I change too quickly: my to-day refuteth my yesterday. I often overleap the steps when I clamber; for so doing, none of the steps pardons me.
When aloft, I find myself always alone. No one speaketh unto me; the frost of solitude maketh me tremble. What do I seek on the height?
My contempt and my longing increase together; the higher I clamber, the more do I despise him who clambereth. What doth he seek on the height?
How ashamed I am of my clambering and stumbling! How I mock at my violent panting! How I hate him who flieth! How tired I am on the height!"
Here the youth was silent. And Zarathustra contemplated the tree beside which they stood, and spake thus:
"This tree standeth here on the hills; it hath grown up high above man and beast.
And if it wanted to speak, it would have none who could understand it: so high hath it grown.
Now it waiteth and waiteth,—for what doth it wait? It dwelleth too close to the seat of the clouds; it waiteth perhaps for the first lightning?"
When Zarathustra had said this, the youth called out with violent gestures: "Yea, Zarathustra, thou speakest the truth. My destruction I longed for, when I desired to be on the height, and thou art the lightning for which I waited! Lo! what have I been since thou hast appeared amongst us? It is mine envy of thee that hath destroyed me!"—Thus spake the youth, and wept bitterly. Zarathustra, however, put his arm around him, and led the youth away with him.
And when they had walked a while together, Zarathustra began to speak thus:
It rendeth my heart. Better than thy words express it, thine eyes tell me all thy danger.
As thou art not free; thou still seekest freedom. Too unslept hath thy seeking made thee, and too wakeful.
On the open height wouldst thou be; for the stars thirsteth thy soul. But thy bad impulses also thirst for freedom.
Thy wild dogs want liberty; they bark for joy in their cellar when thy spirit endeavoureth to open all prison doors.
Still art thou a prisoner—it seemeth to me—who deviseth liberty for himself: ah! sharp becometh the soul of such prisoners, but also deceitful and wicked.
To purify himself, is still necessary for the freedman of the spirit. Much of the prison and the mould still remaineth in him: pure hath his eye still to become.
Yea, I know thy danger. But by my love and hope I conjure thee: cast not thy love and hope away!
Noble thou feelst thyself still, and noble others also feel thee still, though they bear thee a grudge and cast evil looks. Know this, that to everybody a noble one standeth in the way.
Also to the good, a noble one standeth in the way: and even when they call him a good man, they want thereby to put him aside.
The new, would the noble man create, and a new virtue. The old, wanteth the good man, and that the old should be conserved.
But it is not the danger of the noble man to turn a good man, but lest he should become a blusterer, a scoffer, or a destroyer.
Ah! I have known noble ones who lost their highest hope. And then they disparaged all high hopes.
Then lived they shamelessly in temporary pleasures, and beyond the day had hardly an aim.
"Spirit is also voluptousness,"—said they. Then broke the wings of their spirit; and now it creepeth about, and defileth where it gnaweth.
Once they thought of becoming heroes; but sensualists are they now. A trouble and a terror is the hero to them.
But by my love and hope I conjure thee: cast not away the hero in thy soul! Maintain holy thy highest hope!—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
9. The Preachers of Death
There are preachers of death: and the earth is full of those to whom desistance from life must be preached.
Full is the earth of the superfluous; marred is life by the many-too-many. May they be decoyed out of this life by the "life eternal"!
"The yellow ones": so are called the preachers of death, or "the black ones." But I will show them unto you in other colours besides.
There are the terrible ones who carry about in themselves the beast of prey, and have no choice except lusts or self-laceration. And even their lusts are self-laceration.
They have not yet become men, those terrible ones: may they preach desistance from life, and pass away themselves!
There are the spiritually consumptive ones: hardly are they born when they begin to die, and long for doctrines of lassitude and renunciation.
They would fain be dead, and we should approve of their wish! Let us beware of awakening those dead ones, and of damaging those living coffins!
They meet an invalid, or an old man, or a corpse—and immediately they say: "Life is refuted!"
But they are only refuted, and their eye, which seeth only one aspect of existence.
Shrouded in thick melancholy, and eager for the little casualties that bring death: thus do they wait, and clench their teeth.
Or else, they grasp at sweetmeats, and mock at their childishness thereby: they cling to their straw of life, and mock at their still clinging to it.
Their wisdom speaketh thus: "A fool, he who remaineth alive; but so far are we fools! And that is the foolishest thing in life!"
"Life is only suffering": so say others, and lie not. Then see to it that ye cease! See to it that the life ceaseth which is only suffering!
And let this be the teaching of your virtue: "Thou shalt slay thyself! Thou shalt steal away from thyself!"— "Lust is sin,"—so say some who preach death—"let us go apart and beget no children!"
"Giving birth is troublesome,"—say others—"why still give birth? One beareth only the unfortunate!" And they also are preachers of death.
"Pity is necessary,"—so saith a third party. "Take what I have! Take what I am! So much less doth life bind me!"
Were they consistently pitiful, then would they make their neighbours sick of life. To be wicked—that would be their true goodness.
But they want to be rid of life; what care they if they bind others still faster with their chains and gifts!—
And ye also, to whom life is rough labour and disquiet, are ye not very tired of life? Are ye not very ripe for the sermon of death?
All ye to whom rough labour is dear, and the rapid, new, and strange—ye put up with yourselves badly; your diligence is flight, and the will to self-forgetfulness.
If ye believed more in life, then would ye devote yourselves less to the momentary. But for waiting, ye have not enough capacity in you—nor even for idling!
Everywhere resoundeth the voices of those who preach death; and the earth is full of those whom death hath to be preached.
Or "life eternal"; it is all the same to me—if only they pass away quickly!—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
2022.03.17 03:11 AlbertCurtis Magic is for Children not for Nations of Grown Men
The country club conservatives have this belief in magic. They believe that if you put a thing in a hat and wave a piece of paper around it can physically become another item! Yes t'is truth! They verily believe that magically a piece of paper, is able to turn a person of one nation into a person of another nation. Further they believe, that because a piece of paper says that all persons are equal that all nations of persons are equal.
Therefore they reason it doesn't matter where we import new citizens from because everyone is the same. And this is a fantasy, based upon Liberal Lies.
The real fact is that no such equality exists in nature, and thus these conservatives are deluded, tools of the Egalitarians. Persons are not equal to persons, nations are not equal to nations, and therefore who from where matters as to, what results, how. Why?
Because, and this is the God's Truth, abilities are inborn, they come from descent. And mere pieces of paper, and the legalistic magic rituals cannot at any time ever make people(s) equal as DNA made them Unequal from Birth.
This is shown time and again, by different outcomes among different groups of people based largely upon the single common denominator of common origin and descent. It is simply a hardwired part of natural survival strategies playing out in groups as they are designed to by nature--or God if you wish.
This inequality categorically is not the result of racism, xenophobia, or hatred; it is in fact only the natural abilities of each separate kind playing itself out, and resulting in natural inequality, which is just the way of things in nature.
It is not subject to political pressures, it cannot be changed by applying money or resources to it; again the only thing that can happen is that the higher will be brought to the status of the lower in a vain attempt to bring up or cannot be brought up, or to shape that which will not be shaped.
PC will have you believe that tribal savages live the way they do because of racism but that is just their natural way of living. PC cannot accept this naturally unequal status.
Thus the war PC is waging against inequality is a war against nature itself. It is a war against all kinds. It is the act of the common enemy of all mankind. It surely will be this destruction of our kind, if we allowed it to continue with its mad quest for equality with third world savages.
To that end, the country club conservatives are the hewers of wood, and porters of water for the PC world order. Carrying the egalitarian logs with all the cheer of a coolie in their magical belief in the power of paper.
Their insistence On using words like racism as shaming words. Their kowtowing to equality as if it is reality. All these cowardly and servile acts, facilitate the destruction of our people and our nation.
These conservatives are the equivalent of the Western roman aristocrats talking about barbarians becoming good Romans; it was a fantasy then and is a fantasy now. It destroyed the Romans then, and if followed long enough, to full enough a result, it would destroy us now.
Thus these country club conservatives, these colorblind GOP dolts, must be put to task with the rest of the PC banker golden calf worshiping crew ( both D and R ); for they are the face of the enemy, and work against our best interest in all of their ways. They are the enemy within and thus must be dealt with most severely else they will betray uS all to Political Correctne$$ and Diver$ity every time they get a chance.
What is a Nation?
Seems like an easy question why do some, many really, nationalists have such a hard time with this simple question we wonder?
We have a very very simple answer: A nation is a family of families which have homes, hearths, and heritages. These combine over time by natural increase to become a People, who have a commonality of language and ways, a history which is shared by them and a unique culture that binds them. This people then form up a Nation which ensures to them access to land upon which to gain a livelihood, and thus a life, and a state, which acts to bring law, order and justice inside the circle of the people and as the administrative machinery to keep out those that would harm the integral wholeness of the Family which underlays the entire structure.
United as One Nation
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC!
We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life,and One United Majority Voice!
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people! One body which is our state. All of this together makes one nation-- complete unto itself; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
PC's Days are Numbered.
Every single assertion made by Political Correctness is a Lie and is in Error. Diversity is a weakness. Tolerance a vice. Multicult a shoddy production, not a shining example for 'humanity'. Equality is a bad joke, that means 'equal to dirt'.
PC took over our institutions with the intent and purpose of destroying the majority people's authority in Our Own Homelands – and creating of them a Minority among many many other minorities, in their own lands – so that those elitist and their leftist and right scallywag carpetbagger Allies (the clowns with D and R after their names those scallywags and carpetbaggers) can have it their own way. Thus it is both inherently opportunists and subversive. Being perfectly willing, to make treason pay big, and to pay big for treason, at turns.
Political correctness has been instituted to: destroy our identity; shame Us into accepting own denigration in our homelands; to divide and destroy the family; to 'remake' The People into consumerist persons; break the People down morally in a thousand subtle ways; and divide us meaninglessly endlessly and uselessly politically.
This all is done to make us weak and ensures that the virus of political correctness infects Our body and Our very souls unchecked, as Our Pantries, Closest and Pockets are picked clean!
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC! We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life, and One United Majority Voice!
We must and shall become an united majority population that is not afraid to say," we Choose ourselves and reject PC. We reject diversity and becoming a minority in our own lands! We choose to remain, and We shall remain one people in one land under one Law, with one way of life, living by the light of one culture united as one nation! We have chosen and that is the end of the matter! (For Vox Populi vox dei! )
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people; One body which is our state and all of this together makes one nation-- complete unto itself; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
The Days are Numbered for PC and Multicult!
Unite for your Majority! United as One Nation!
Folks if you're a majority citizen, in what is soon to be the former United States of America, then my friends, I would advise highly, thinking about your future outside of the political system.
Now friends, I know that the government hasn't changed openly. But we all know that it is not the same creature, that was even so recently as under Nixon or even Carter. It is alien and foreign to us the Rightful Majority – Openly Proclaiming it supports our becoming a purposeful minority in Own Own Lands! That's the truth. Now lets get this out of the way: I’m not here to bash of one party or the other, the blame spreads equally. Both parties, not unlike the pigs and the men at the end of animal farm, are playing cards at the table with each other. Gambling away our futures, grubbing our money while bowing low to their Masters on Wall Street and In London! Doing anything but ruling from DC! Representing anyone but the majority people! They are responsible to internationalist over nationalist principles and loyal to foreigners over the Majority People who are the Real Nation called 'America' and No others!
For us Working and Middle Class majority citizens it is time to face the fact: The program called 'the two party system' is defunct! It ( the system both the Dems and GOP ) represent: Big Money, PC, Internationalism, Cronyism and Nepotism, NOT Free Exchange, Tradition, Nation, Merit, and Justice. Thus, Anyone who talks about the GOP this or the democrats that, I say please wake up, thank you. They are ALL WWF style actors. In the end the Majority is forgotten and Big-Money and Political Correctness Triumph on the Hill; daily! In a million ways! And the triumph of these two is the implicit victory of internationalist principles over Nationalist principles of governance.
Therefore both of the Parties are, to judge by their actions not words, nothing more than greater or lesser subsidiaries of those two listed 'Real Powers' -- joint stock ventures owned by the elite to maximize profits from us Majority Folks. Between them they have driven the majority, traditional, Western, heartland, citizen in America, to a status of dependence (off shored jobs, farm and home foreclosures, and 'market unrest'), upon a market, an elite, and a government, which is dedicated, to an egalitarian Red Diaper Baby ideology, called "political correctness" which by means of mass immigration of third world low value added hordes, enforced tolerance(your toleration of PC's pets lowering your quality of life), and diversity(lower paid alien hordes), open proclaims its intent to destroy that majority population's unique identity, flood our lands with alien foreign hordes, debase our culture by eradicating; up end the family; and most insulting of all, force Us all to pay for this 'benefit' while we are called names like racist for not wanting the benefits, we have had foisted upon us!
The reality is, that by the machinations PC and the Money Bags (the two powers behind the American throne we are not suppose to question... 'Equality, Tolerance and Diversity' and the Holy Market. ) Control the parties utterly from top to bottom, and almost to the living room level if you factor in the media.
The media and academic allies of this great plot against Civilization, label anyone that speaks out against any of its dogmas as a hater, a racist, a xenophobic racist hate filled Not-See even, but that's all smoke and fluff.
It is exactly identical to a virus telling the healthy cell is the invading, that the cell is hateful for rejecting the virus.
For the healthy cell like a healthy people,a healthy culture, a healthy society wishes to reproduce itself as itself like itself.
PC on the other hand wishes for the western world to produce copies of communist inspired egalitarian third world multicultural cesspits and not of itself proper and orderly. It is thus exactly analogous to a social and ideological virus.
The politically correct will label me a hate filled not-see or whatever they will, but those are merely shaming tactics descended from Freudian psychology --which I reject in total, and so they matter not to me-- this shaming tactic is of course PC strongest weapon against the masses.
It comes the undeniable fact that political correctness is in 100% firm control of academia, the media and more and more the political structure.
These facts being due to the deeper and seldom discussed fact that "political correctness" is in fact an alliance of the left wing communists and the scions of the banking industrialist robber barons of last century.
Every single assertion made by Political Correctness is a Lie and is in Error. Diversity is a weakness. Tolerance a vice. Multicult a shoddy production, not a shining example for 'humanity'. Equality is a bad joke, that means 'equal to dirt'.
PC took over our institutions with the intent of purpose of destroying the majority people's authority in Our Own Homelands – and creating of them a Minority among many many other minorities, in their own lands – so that those elitist and their leftist and right scallywag carpetbagger Allies (the clowns with D and R after their names those scallywags and carpetbaggers) can have it their own way. Thus it is both inherently opportunists and subversive. Being perfectly willing, to make treason pay big, and to pay big for treason, at turns.
Political correctness has been instituted to: destroy our identity; shame Us into accepting own denigration in our homelands; to divide and destroy the family; to 'remake' The People into consumerist persons; break the People down morally in a thousand subtle ways and divide us meaninglessly endlessly and uselessly politically. This all is done to in making us weak and ensuring that the virus of political correctness infects Our citizen body and Our very souls, as Our Pantries, Closest and Pockets are picked clean!
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC!
We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We must unite around all that we hold dear. And we must speak up to defend that which we Love and Treasure. We must recall what it is to be a Proper People Unitary, Whole Complete and Strong!
We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life, and One United Majority Voice!
We must and shall become a united majority population that is not afraid to say," we Choose ourselves and reject PC. We reject diversity and becoming a minority in our own lands! We reject anyone and anything that tried to bring this result upon US!
We choose to remain one people in one land under one Law, with one way of life, living by the light of one culture united as one nation!
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people! One body which is our state! We are complete unto ourselves; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
Once THE (not 'a' but THE) Majority People United in defense of their homes, futures and Majority, take to the streets, with chants like this in our hearts and on their minds: the days of PC numbered.
You are a racist says the Judas!
Racism, is a BS word used by the ELITE and PC fanatics ( who work as ONE team against the Nations who they are sucking dry and killing off with mass immigration and enforced diversity!) to keep the Majority from Uniting for own group interests! It is the exact same as the Kings Men calling the Colonists 'rebels' and 'a rabble' it is meant to demoralize and demean them in the eyes of the common person. But I seem to recall a certain Rabble banded together and beat the King as We the Majority shall band together and defeat PC and Diversity and keep our lands, laws, way of life! Our Culture, Our Heritage, Our Unique Identity!
The time of the Shaming Words Power is coming to an end; the Time of the United Majority is upon us!
A nation is a home -- would you let illegals invade your home?
A nation is a home. Would it be 'racist' to insist that people only enter your home upon your rules and only stay upon your terms?
Then why should we cower before illegal immigrants just because they say 'racist' at us? It is OUR nation and they have NO right to be here against OUR will, using our nation as a flop house slash charity. So in effect they are calling us racist for complaining about being their doormat and paying their way.
And to our shame largely we suck this up like cowards.
Repeat after me: It is not racist to prefer your own kind, your own family, your own ways and your own values over those of invaders trying to force themselves upon you. It is perfectly normal to want to EXCLUDE others from your Homes who do not belong and who cause problems for you and yours.
And to put to bed the nonsense 'legal - illegal' evasion:
Legal ... Illegal ... Nope it is 100% about One is like the Others and One Does not Belong, because We say so and that is that.
We are full and are not taking new lodgers at this time! It is about Our House, Our Rules, Our Way, or Hit the Highway!
And we don't have to answer to anyone for that because this land is OURS not theirs. This land they are invading is our home. This is OURS: Period. We don't have to back peddle or explain, or simper or care about your concerns one little bit.
And that is the long and short of it: It is about WE proper born citizens want our land and we are tired of subversives from inside our own gate trying to sell it our from under US to the lowest third world bidder. We want OUR land full of OUR people, who will carry on our traditions and ways, not full of low paid labor for Walmart.
We want our land to ourselves, for ourselves by ourselves to give to those like ourselves that will carry on the chain of those like ourselves.
So let us stop being cowards and hiding behind legal and illegal when it is about being over ran by a foreign alien horde of barbarians in our own lands, plain and simple. It is about defending our way of life, our lands, and our right to our way of life and lands. It is about US remaining US. We are not a club you get to join by paying immigration fines. We are not a source of profits or growth. We are a living organic People with a destiny, an history and a will to be free from this Multicultural Prison Camp Society.
The Egalitarian Left AND the Country Club Right are the true enemy it is NOT a case of eitheor, but of BOTH pairing up to have turns at you. Mass Immigration is just one of many assaults happening all along the line of Culture and Kind.
The Left will call you names and the Right will promise you pennies it never intends to deliver but they both are working full time to force you into accepting their plan to balkanize you in your own nation. That is to say it plain the plan of the Elite ( $ ) who control both the (D) and (R) is to rapidly make Majority Americans a at most plurality but more likely a absolute minority on purpose in America. They will then flood our living quarters with 'Die Versity' ( section 8 and 'minority set asides' will be the means here) to ensure Americans have no effective voting power and are trapped being the whipping boy and tax slave to the system, which sold you out to 'diversity' and mammon in equal measures. So the left gets its 'egalitarian' paradise kept in place by an invasive police state, and the right gets its slave labor camp kept in check by the slaves snitching on each other and the police state, and the Elite get POWER. Never let the enemy frame your thinking!
Never let the Enemy frame the debate. They try to spin it around in every way possible but : It is about defending our way of life, our lands, and our right to our way of life and lands. It is about US remaining US in OUR lands.
The credit Monopoly
The western peoples, are ruled by a credit monopoly, which has chosen the facade of democracy,'freedom' and market principles; yet labels not with standing none of these states are governed in the interest of the Nation which founded them. Not a single one.
But how can this be? They are all 'democracies' and the people get to vote, freely, for several candidates of 'their choices' do they not? Well, yes in all of these nations, there is a nominal right and left (a relic of the French Revolution). I say nominal, because, both parties are under the control, of the money donors whose approval they must gain, to hold office. The Donor pays the Candidates way and the elected fellow repays with favorable legislation, rulings or enforcement. By way of this power of the purse the donors thereby secure access to public money and power over the public, by means of their puppets in the parties. These donors are none other than the domestic face of the Credit Monopoly. And the parties their rum-dummies.
The parties are paid to misrule in the interest of the international financial credit monopoly, which interests are more often than not adverse to the interests of the nation in which the nominal parties operate. Thus any party which the credit monopoly continues to support with money, does not operate to the interest of the common person; whose national interests are adverse to the international credit monopoly's interests.
Those parties the credit monopoly favor are favored by the media, and those policies they support are given serious attention, and 'sold' to the public as 'reasonable' and 'the compromises necessary to keep things going' and under a hundred other guises.
However, Any party, policy or action, promoted, supported or otherwise presented by the commons to see to its own interests outside those bounds set by the Monopoly is suppressed, both by legal and extra legal means.
Therefore elections are really a formality since no matter which party 'wins' at the poll, the credit monopoly's money wins the (s)election, therefore the credit monopoly always wins; having paid the way of ALL 'major' parties and most 'minor' ones. In fact the Money that owns the so called 'two party' simple cannot lose long term the way the matter works out in real life. There being plenty of weak and desperate persons among the masses willing to take their money.
'The People' and 'a majority of citizens' comes to mean those that pay for the parties way, and no others surly not a numerical majority of citizens. Thus we have in fact a 'vote' counted in dollar amounts or what can be called 'financial democracies'.
Through this financial democracy the Credit Monopoly have bought the freedom to write laws in their favor. Thus this monopoly, controls much more than just credit, and the volume and value of the money supply, since these same persons who make up the credit monopoly, have also employed the corporate veil, to combine their money, and dominate the general economy, media, and academia as well as the finance economy by means of the power of the purse. They are a full set, cradle to grave operation – wishing to maximize profits off of every major event in your life from birth, to death.
So we have a situation where the so called productive economy, which is really just the productive citizens, is being milked dry, against the National will, to the advantage of the small group of international traitors who collectively comprise the credit monopoly. And this situation is generalized across, all of the western nations. Some more than others and all a bit different but all the same in essence.
In Fine: The Problem we are not suppose to mention is that Cosmopolitan Credit is King over our Countries of Birth and is attempting to subjugate us in our Ancestral Lands.
This situation can only be remedied, by ensuring to the Nation the power to issue their own credit free from the internationalist Creditors and their bought pet parties control and outside their power thus beyond their authority.
My sense is that this can be done best by: banding together on the local level; forming productive enterprises; buying selling and trading at the local level with the intent to form your own local pricing mechanism; and finally banding all of this wealth and expertise together as communities into credit unions. Credit Unions are unlike a bank ran for the interests of those whose money is deposited in them, and are 100% controlled by the members. Thus one has, a productive local economy, based upon LOCALLY controlled prices, and credit that is ultimately based upon said local work and efforts, not on the say so of international financiers.
It is my feeling that such enterprises, would put the lie to to the false two party systems. It would show them to be the lapdogs for international finance, which they indeed are. And would wield together the people, into a unitary wholeness, which would be much harder for the international money monopoly to manage and maintain control over; a unified group being harder to master than single individuals. It is my feeling that trying to take this power from these united wholes would result in very large popular outbursts, which outburst could and will only end badly for the Credit Monopoly.
It is my feeling, but all of this hard work, needed to bring about these credit systems, will act as a solvent to wash away much of the destruction that the credit monopoly has unleashed on the west.
The first great washing, will come in the minds of those who create credit from wealth as they realize these bankers have lied to them the whole time. We are credit; they've simply been selling us back our own work! From this all the rest of Modernity and PC, Diversity and the rest crumbles as it is all based upon the Credit Monopoly Usurers controlling The People's Credit and thus being able to FORCE PC upon us at the end of a Loan! Reject any; reject all! Take back the one; fight back all the others!
Liberal Lies:
Here be Hypocrites!
Liberals are the ultimate hypocrites. They have a time lampooning poor whites for their supposed racism, yet the same time these caviar socialists live work and play as far from the diversity, vibrancy, and enrichment, that tolerance, diversity, and multiculturalism have brought us as they physically can place themselves.
We invite them to move themselves and their family to the poorest most diversity rich area they can find and walk the walk, while checking THEIR privilege. But, they will not as they know in their heart that this claptrap is a lie. They know that all their grandstanding about 'equality' is merely a stool from which to spit down upon others. They know it is all about them looking down the nose. They. Know.
And yet they still will lecture those who are honest about racial differences, as if they themselves do not believe in these differences. They will continue to prance about as if they are some kind of morally superior human to us poor, working, and middle class whites. They will surely miss no chance to denounce us for being leery of the minorities and their disproportionate amount of criminality, barbarism and savagery. They will continue very much to mock us from their little well to do perch about how we hate these people for taking our jobs.
All of them pretend mightily -- even fooling themselves in some cases -- that they believe these fables about equality being absolute, and every one in every place being the same. But the acts of these caviar socialists; their choices in places to live; the general society with which they surround themselves and their families; all belie the words which they mouth but which do they do not hold to their hearts. The lectures are nothing more than grandstanding, so that they can act superior to others morally.
Being called to task by us 'cracker people' for their malarkey way of acting really gets them going: Oh they hate us 'racists' for calling them out. ( Try it and see Call them out for their Faux Adherence to PC.)
And how they wish they could silence us. But wish, want and will are not the same thing. So accordingly, until what they wish matters We will simply point out that, they choose NOT to live in the rubble of the urban areas where the entire population is 'enriching' and is 100% 'vibrant' in most cases. In point of fact they will fight to live amongst us evil 'racists' whites in the suburbs and rural areas rather than live in the Urban Enriched Zones.
And what is more they do this by choice. Thus indicating a preference by this choice -- Seems the Left needs to Check its Choices! Seems they need to admit reality: Until then They are as We have already said the ultimate in weakling hypocrites. Too Timid to Tell the Truth, and too Weak to Matter if they did!
A little secret ...
The Majority people of the United States of America, made the United States of America. We the living Majority People are America. Blood Draws to Blood. America is US and we are IT.
Stated Plain: Diversity is NOT a strength; 'diversity' is not our equal at building up a great nation in any way what so ever; People build places; places do not build people. This being so, Tolerating Diversity is irrational because diversity brings Poverty, Squalor, and Crime everywhere in the West it resides.
Diversity, tolerance, 'equality' are all just commie buzz words that describe NO real world items or events when used in a praiseful manner, or that are used to cover up the True Nature of this Blight upon Our People, Nation and Culture.
Diversity is the Death of the First World, Tolerance is Timidity, Mass Immigration is an on going gang rape of our People, and Multiculture is NO Culture at all! All else is PC-Liberal-Commie Fantasy.
This is the cold stark reality of the matter. It cannot be undone by social programs or 'education' or any other human effort as it is part of hard wired biological fact. The fools can lie to themselves but some kinds are not equal to others at the task of building and maintaining a FIRST WORLD CIVILIZATION.
It matters WHO we import: First World People build First World Nations ... Barbarians build NOTHING worthy of being called a 'nation'.
Accordingly if political correctness, through mass immigration replaces the Majority First World American with Barbarians and makes them a minority among alien and competing hordes of barbarian minorities, it will keep the shell, the forms of America, but all of its life, substance, vitality, and greatness will be gone.
What one will in fact have is Detroit, Camden or Gary Indiana writ large, and frankly an example of a once great people going mad and building up their own funeral pyre.
Thus, America will become, Somalia if enough of those primitive backward persons are imported into the Midwestern heartland. It will cease to be a productive breadbasket and become a Fully Dysfunctional Basket-case, there is no doubt about this. Reason?
Because, unequivocally: The People Build the Place in their own image.
Therefore: Somalians will rebuild SOMALIA not Sweden.
Simple really. No equality about it.
'Who' is the paramount question of history.
Any rational person must see that the obvious and foreseeable result of importing third world barbarians will be third world feuds, violence, savagery and over all barbarism here, not a 'richer' America but a degenerate backwards third world state, here in what once was the former USA. If one conceptualizes Northern Ireland or say 'The 40 years Wars' you are onto the truth of what this curse will be like. This is our slated future if the PC Diversity Mass Immigration Tolerance Horde get their way ...
If …
Now ...
Unless you fancy the idea of being overran by a horde of barbarians and giving up the Land Our Fathers Built, You must get your mind right and leave the Color Blind Plantation that keeps you tied to PC.
You must reject the false and embrace the True.
Say the Following:
We reject the false notion that Humans are mere economic beings. We affirm that natural human societies form from families and are thus built upon the duties and rights of the members of those families – or put differently, Society exists so that families can produce living offspring that will be 'Society' in the future.
We reject the liberal-PC-anarchist (communist) ideal of individuals with no loyalty, duty, and no higher morality than mere pleasure or material gain. We affirm that man finds his highest expression when he does his duty to those he owes loyalty to and when those in return do their duty to him. Duty and loyalty are the basis for all rights, not happiness, not material gain.
We affirm that We have a Unique Identity based upon Our Majority ruling this Land and that We value this identity, Majority and Land. We therefore reject the idea that we are just one among many that should 'share' this land, or that we have no right to Our Land and Our Majority.
Having affirmed the above:
We must Unite Behind Our Identity, Our Majority and Our History!
We must unite, behind our rightful Majority; we must reject becoming a purposeful minority in our own lands; we must rally behind our Identity proudly.
We must unite around those things we love!
We we must loudly proclaim that we object to our families, homes, communities being trampled, downgraded, and destroyed by barbarian out-landers.
We must and we shall unite around Our hearths, heritage, history!
We shall unite around our people, and our unique identity!
We shall unite behind Our hearths, our homes, our heritage, our history, our homeland.
We shall unite as One nation.
We shall unite.
We. Shall. Unite. Say. It.
We. Shall. Unite.
We shall Stop PC from Displacing Us.
We shall stop PC from destroying our identity.
We shall put an end to its aiming to subvert and harm us while degrading us in our own homelands.
We shall put an end to its attempts to divide and destroy the family, confuse the genders, as well as stop its attempts to poison our youths minds by means of indoctrination fronting as education. We shall stop cold its attempts to break down our people morally spiritually, ethically, and destroy their false system of thought, replacing it with a morally sound ethic that is in line with OUR values, and that serves Our ends.
We shall unite as One Strong Whole Majority and push aside their false 'two party' binary, as we can surely do better.
We shall do this. Us united as One majority. We affirm, Our Minimum Demands to Be:
One people in One land under One law with One way of life living by the lights of One culture! Unitary! Strong! Whole! One! United as One Nation!
submitted by AlbertCurtis to aristos [link] [comments]
Therefore they reason it doesn't matter where we import new citizens from because everyone is the same. And this is a fantasy, based upon Liberal Lies.
The real fact is that no such equality exists in nature, and thus these conservatives are deluded, tools of the Egalitarians. Persons are not equal to persons, nations are not equal to nations, and therefore who from where matters as to, what results, how. Why?
Because, and this is the God's Truth, abilities are inborn, they come from descent. And mere pieces of paper, and the legalistic magic rituals cannot at any time ever make people(s) equal as DNA made them Unequal from Birth.
This is shown time and again, by different outcomes among different groups of people based largely upon the single common denominator of common origin and descent. It is simply a hardwired part of natural survival strategies playing out in groups as they are designed to by nature--or God if you wish.
This inequality categorically is not the result of racism, xenophobia, or hatred; it is in fact only the natural abilities of each separate kind playing itself out, and resulting in natural inequality, which is just the way of things in nature.
It is not subject to political pressures, it cannot be changed by applying money or resources to it; again the only thing that can happen is that the higher will be brought to the status of the lower in a vain attempt to bring up or cannot be brought up, or to shape that which will not be shaped.
PC will have you believe that tribal savages live the way they do because of racism but that is just their natural way of living. PC cannot accept this naturally unequal status.
Thus the war PC is waging against inequality is a war against nature itself. It is a war against all kinds. It is the act of the common enemy of all mankind. It surely will be this destruction of our kind, if we allowed it to continue with its mad quest for equality with third world savages.
To that end, the country club conservatives are the hewers of wood, and porters of water for the PC world order. Carrying the egalitarian logs with all the cheer of a coolie in their magical belief in the power of paper.
Their insistence On using words like racism as shaming words. Their kowtowing to equality as if it is reality. All these cowardly and servile acts, facilitate the destruction of our people and our nation.
These conservatives are the equivalent of the Western roman aristocrats talking about barbarians becoming good Romans; it was a fantasy then and is a fantasy now. It destroyed the Romans then, and if followed long enough, to full enough a result, it would destroy us now.
Thus these country club conservatives, these colorblind GOP dolts, must be put to task with the rest of the PC banker golden calf worshiping crew ( both D and R ); for they are the face of the enemy, and work against our best interest in all of their ways. They are the enemy within and thus must be dealt with most severely else they will betray uS all to Political Correctne$$ and Diver$ity every time they get a chance.
What is a Nation?
Seems like an easy question why do some, many really, nationalists have such a hard time with this simple question we wonder?
We have a very very simple answer: A nation is a family of families which have homes, hearths, and heritages. These combine over time by natural increase to become a People, who have a commonality of language and ways, a history which is shared by them and a unique culture that binds them. This people then form up a Nation which ensures to them access to land upon which to gain a livelihood, and thus a life, and a state, which acts to bring law, order and justice inside the circle of the people and as the administrative machinery to keep out those that would harm the integral wholeness of the Family which underlays the entire structure.
United as One Nation
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC!
We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life,and One United Majority Voice!
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people! One body which is our state. All of this together makes one nation-- complete unto itself; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
PC's Days are Numbered.
Every single assertion made by Political Correctness is a Lie and is in Error. Diversity is a weakness. Tolerance a vice. Multicult a shoddy production, not a shining example for 'humanity'. Equality is a bad joke, that means 'equal to dirt'.
PC took over our institutions with the intent and purpose of destroying the majority people's authority in Our Own Homelands – and creating of them a Minority among many many other minorities, in their own lands – so that those elitist and their leftist and right scallywag carpetbagger Allies (the clowns with D and R after their names those scallywags and carpetbaggers) can have it their own way. Thus it is both inherently opportunists and subversive. Being perfectly willing, to make treason pay big, and to pay big for treason, at turns.
Political correctness has been instituted to: destroy our identity; shame Us into accepting own denigration in our homelands; to divide and destroy the family; to 'remake' The People into consumerist persons; break the People down morally in a thousand subtle ways; and divide us meaninglessly endlessly and uselessly politically.
This all is done to make us weak and ensures that the virus of political correctness infects Our body and Our very souls unchecked, as Our Pantries, Closest and Pockets are picked clean!
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC! We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life, and One United Majority Voice!
We must and shall become an united majority population that is not afraid to say," we Choose ourselves and reject PC. We reject diversity and becoming a minority in our own lands! We choose to remain, and We shall remain one people in one land under one Law, with one way of life, living by the light of one culture united as one nation! We have chosen and that is the end of the matter! (For Vox Populi vox dei! )
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people; One body which is our state and all of this together makes one nation-- complete unto itself; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
The Days are Numbered for PC and Multicult!
Unite for your Majority! United as One Nation!
Folks if you're a majority citizen, in what is soon to be the former United States of America, then my friends, I would advise highly, thinking about your future outside of the political system.
Now friends, I know that the government hasn't changed openly. But we all know that it is not the same creature, that was even so recently as under Nixon or even Carter. It is alien and foreign to us the Rightful Majority – Openly Proclaiming it supports our becoming a purposeful minority in Own Own Lands! That's the truth. Now lets get this out of the way: I’m not here to bash of one party or the other, the blame spreads equally. Both parties, not unlike the pigs and the men at the end of animal farm, are playing cards at the table with each other. Gambling away our futures, grubbing our money while bowing low to their Masters on Wall Street and In London! Doing anything but ruling from DC! Representing anyone but the majority people! They are responsible to internationalist over nationalist principles and loyal to foreigners over the Majority People who are the Real Nation called 'America' and No others!
For us Working and Middle Class majority citizens it is time to face the fact: The program called 'the two party system' is defunct! It ( the system both the Dems and GOP ) represent: Big Money, PC, Internationalism, Cronyism and Nepotism, NOT Free Exchange, Tradition, Nation, Merit, and Justice. Thus, Anyone who talks about the GOP this or the democrats that, I say please wake up, thank you. They are ALL WWF style actors. In the end the Majority is forgotten and Big-Money and Political Correctness Triumph on the Hill; daily! In a million ways! And the triumph of these two is the implicit victory of internationalist principles over Nationalist principles of governance.
Therefore both of the Parties are, to judge by their actions not words, nothing more than greater or lesser subsidiaries of those two listed 'Real Powers' -- joint stock ventures owned by the elite to maximize profits from us Majority Folks. Between them they have driven the majority, traditional, Western, heartland, citizen in America, to a status of dependence (off shored jobs, farm and home foreclosures, and 'market unrest'), upon a market, an elite, and a government, which is dedicated, to an egalitarian Red Diaper Baby ideology, called "political correctness" which by means of mass immigration of third world low value added hordes, enforced tolerance(your toleration of PC's pets lowering your quality of life), and diversity(lower paid alien hordes), open proclaims its intent to destroy that majority population's unique identity, flood our lands with alien foreign hordes, debase our culture by eradicating; up end the family; and most insulting of all, force Us all to pay for this 'benefit' while we are called names like racist for not wanting the benefits, we have had foisted upon us!
The reality is, that by the machinations PC and the Money Bags (the two powers behind the American throne we are not suppose to question... 'Equality, Tolerance and Diversity' and the Holy Market. ) Control the parties utterly from top to bottom, and almost to the living room level if you factor in the media.
The media and academic allies of this great plot against Civilization, label anyone that speaks out against any of its dogmas as a hater, a racist, a xenophobic racist hate filled Not-See even, but that's all smoke and fluff.
It is exactly identical to a virus telling the healthy cell is the invading, that the cell is hateful for rejecting the virus.
For the healthy cell like a healthy people,a healthy culture, a healthy society wishes to reproduce itself as itself like itself.
PC on the other hand wishes for the western world to produce copies of communist inspired egalitarian third world multicultural cesspits and not of itself proper and orderly. It is thus exactly analogous to a social and ideological virus.
The politically correct will label me a hate filled not-see or whatever they will, but those are merely shaming tactics descended from Freudian psychology --which I reject in total, and so they matter not to me-- this shaming tactic is of course PC strongest weapon against the masses.
It comes the undeniable fact that political correctness is in 100% firm control of academia, the media and more and more the political structure.
These facts being due to the deeper and seldom discussed fact that "political correctness" is in fact an alliance of the left wing communists and the scions of the banking industrialist robber barons of last century.
Every single assertion made by Political Correctness is a Lie and is in Error. Diversity is a weakness. Tolerance a vice. Multicult a shoddy production, not a shining example for 'humanity'. Equality is a bad joke, that means 'equal to dirt'.
PC took over our institutions with the intent of purpose of destroying the majority people's authority in Our Own Homelands – and creating of them a Minority among many many other minorities, in their own lands – so that those elitist and their leftist and right scallywag carpetbagger Allies (the clowns with D and R after their names those scallywags and carpetbaggers) can have it their own way. Thus it is both inherently opportunists and subversive. Being perfectly willing, to make treason pay big, and to pay big for treason, at turns.
Political correctness has been instituted to: destroy our identity; shame Us into accepting own denigration in our homelands; to divide and destroy the family; to 'remake' The People into consumerist persons; break the People down morally in a thousand subtle ways and divide us meaninglessly endlessly and uselessly politically. This all is done to in making us weak and ensuring that the virus of political correctness infects Our citizen body and Our very souls, as Our Pantries, Closest and Pockets are picked clean!
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC!
We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We must unite around all that we hold dear. And we must speak up to defend that which we Love and Treasure. We must recall what it is to be a Proper People Unitary, Whole Complete and Strong!
We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life, and One United Majority Voice!
We must and shall become a united majority population that is not afraid to say," we Choose ourselves and reject PC. We reject diversity and becoming a minority in our own lands! We reject anyone and anything that tried to bring this result upon US!
We choose to remain one people in one land under one Law, with one way of life, living by the light of one culture united as one nation!
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people! One body which is our state! We are complete unto ourselves; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
Once THE (not 'a' but THE) Majority People United in defense of their homes, futures and Majority, take to the streets, with chants like this in our hearts and on their minds: the days of PC numbered.
You are a racist says the Judas!
Racism, is a BS word used by the ELITE and PC fanatics ( who work as ONE team against the Nations who they are sucking dry and killing off with mass immigration and enforced diversity!) to keep the Majority from Uniting for own group interests! It is the exact same as the Kings Men calling the Colonists 'rebels' and 'a rabble' it is meant to demoralize and demean them in the eyes of the common person. But I seem to recall a certain Rabble banded together and beat the King as We the Majority shall band together and defeat PC and Diversity and keep our lands, laws, way of life! Our Culture, Our Heritage, Our Unique Identity!
The time of the Shaming Words Power is coming to an end; the Time of the United Majority is upon us!
A nation is a home -- would you let illegals invade your home?
A nation is a home. Would it be 'racist' to insist that people only enter your home upon your rules and only stay upon your terms?
Then why should we cower before illegal immigrants just because they say 'racist' at us? It is OUR nation and they have NO right to be here against OUR will, using our nation as a flop house slash charity. So in effect they are calling us racist for complaining about being their doormat and paying their way.
And to our shame largely we suck this up like cowards.
Repeat after me: It is not racist to prefer your own kind, your own family, your own ways and your own values over those of invaders trying to force themselves upon you. It is perfectly normal to want to EXCLUDE others from your Homes who do not belong and who cause problems for you and yours.
And to put to bed the nonsense 'legal - illegal' evasion:
Legal ... Illegal ... Nope it is 100% about One is like the Others and One Does not Belong, because We say so and that is that.
We are full and are not taking new lodgers at this time! It is about Our House, Our Rules, Our Way, or Hit the Highway!
And we don't have to answer to anyone for that because this land is OURS not theirs. This land they are invading is our home. This is OURS: Period. We don't have to back peddle or explain, or simper or care about your concerns one little bit.
And that is the long and short of it: It is about WE proper born citizens want our land and we are tired of subversives from inside our own gate trying to sell it our from under US to the lowest third world bidder. We want OUR land full of OUR people, who will carry on our traditions and ways, not full of low paid labor for Walmart.
We want our land to ourselves, for ourselves by ourselves to give to those like ourselves that will carry on the chain of those like ourselves.
So let us stop being cowards and hiding behind legal and illegal when it is about being over ran by a foreign alien horde of barbarians in our own lands, plain and simple. It is about defending our way of life, our lands, and our right to our way of life and lands. It is about US remaining US. We are not a club you get to join by paying immigration fines. We are not a source of profits or growth. We are a living organic People with a destiny, an history and a will to be free from this Multicultural Prison Camp Society.
The Egalitarian Left AND the Country Club Right are the true enemy it is NOT a case of eitheor, but of BOTH pairing up to have turns at you. Mass Immigration is just one of many assaults happening all along the line of Culture and Kind.
The Left will call you names and the Right will promise you pennies it never intends to deliver but they both are working full time to force you into accepting their plan to balkanize you in your own nation. That is to say it plain the plan of the Elite ( $ ) who control both the (D) and (R) is to rapidly make Majority Americans a at most plurality but more likely a absolute minority on purpose in America. They will then flood our living quarters with 'Die Versity' ( section 8 and 'minority set asides' will be the means here) to ensure Americans have no effective voting power and are trapped being the whipping boy and tax slave to the system, which sold you out to 'diversity' and mammon in equal measures. So the left gets its 'egalitarian' paradise kept in place by an invasive police state, and the right gets its slave labor camp kept in check by the slaves snitching on each other and the police state, and the Elite get POWER. Never let the enemy frame your thinking!
Never let the Enemy frame the debate. They try to spin it around in every way possible but : It is about defending our way of life, our lands, and our right to our way of life and lands. It is about US remaining US in OUR lands.
The credit Monopoly
The western peoples, are ruled by a credit monopoly, which has chosen the facade of democracy,'freedom' and market principles; yet labels not with standing none of these states are governed in the interest of the Nation which founded them. Not a single one.
But how can this be? They are all 'democracies' and the people get to vote, freely, for several candidates of 'their choices' do they not? Well, yes in all of these nations, there is a nominal right and left (a relic of the French Revolution). I say nominal, because, both parties are under the control, of the money donors whose approval they must gain, to hold office. The Donor pays the Candidates way and the elected fellow repays with favorable legislation, rulings or enforcement. By way of this power of the purse the donors thereby secure access to public money and power over the public, by means of their puppets in the parties. These donors are none other than the domestic face of the Credit Monopoly. And the parties their rum-dummies.
The parties are paid to misrule in the interest of the international financial credit monopoly, which interests are more often than not adverse to the interests of the nation in which the nominal parties operate. Thus any party which the credit monopoly continues to support with money, does not operate to the interest of the common person; whose national interests are adverse to the international credit monopoly's interests.
Those parties the credit monopoly favor are favored by the media, and those policies they support are given serious attention, and 'sold' to the public as 'reasonable' and 'the compromises necessary to keep things going' and under a hundred other guises.
However, Any party, policy or action, promoted, supported or otherwise presented by the commons to see to its own interests outside those bounds set by the Monopoly is suppressed, both by legal and extra legal means.
Therefore elections are really a formality since no matter which party 'wins' at the poll, the credit monopoly's money wins the (s)election, therefore the credit monopoly always wins; having paid the way of ALL 'major' parties and most 'minor' ones. In fact the Money that owns the so called 'two party' simple cannot lose long term the way the matter works out in real life. There being plenty of weak and desperate persons among the masses willing to take their money.
'The People' and 'a majority of citizens' comes to mean those that pay for the parties way, and no others surly not a numerical majority of citizens. Thus we have in fact a 'vote' counted in dollar amounts or what can be called 'financial democracies'.
Through this financial democracy the Credit Monopoly have bought the freedom to write laws in their favor. Thus this monopoly, controls much more than just credit, and the volume and value of the money supply, since these same persons who make up the credit monopoly, have also employed the corporate veil, to combine their money, and dominate the general economy, media, and academia as well as the finance economy by means of the power of the purse. They are a full set, cradle to grave operation – wishing to maximize profits off of every major event in your life from birth, to death.
So we have a situation where the so called productive economy, which is really just the productive citizens, is being milked dry, against the National will, to the advantage of the small group of international traitors who collectively comprise the credit monopoly. And this situation is generalized across, all of the western nations. Some more than others and all a bit different but all the same in essence.
In Fine: The Problem we are not suppose to mention is that Cosmopolitan Credit is King over our Countries of Birth and is attempting to subjugate us in our Ancestral Lands.
This situation can only be remedied, by ensuring to the Nation the power to issue their own credit free from the internationalist Creditors and their bought pet parties control and outside their power thus beyond their authority.
My sense is that this can be done best by: banding together on the local level; forming productive enterprises; buying selling and trading at the local level with the intent to form your own local pricing mechanism; and finally banding all of this wealth and expertise together as communities into credit unions. Credit Unions are unlike a bank ran for the interests of those whose money is deposited in them, and are 100% controlled by the members. Thus one has, a productive local economy, based upon LOCALLY controlled prices, and credit that is ultimately based upon said local work and efforts, not on the say so of international financiers.
It is my feeling that such enterprises, would put the lie to to the false two party systems. It would show them to be the lapdogs for international finance, which they indeed are. And would wield together the people, into a unitary wholeness, which would be much harder for the international money monopoly to manage and maintain control over; a unified group being harder to master than single individuals. It is my feeling that trying to take this power from these united wholes would result in very large popular outbursts, which outburst could and will only end badly for the Credit Monopoly.
It is my feeling, but all of this hard work, needed to bring about these credit systems, will act as a solvent to wash away much of the destruction that the credit monopoly has unleashed on the west.
The first great washing, will come in the minds of those who create credit from wealth as they realize these bankers have lied to them the whole time. We are credit; they've simply been selling us back our own work! From this all the rest of Modernity and PC, Diversity and the rest crumbles as it is all based upon the Credit Monopoly Usurers controlling The People's Credit and thus being able to FORCE PC upon us at the end of a Loan! Reject any; reject all! Take back the one; fight back all the others!
Liberal Lies:
Here be Hypocrites!
Liberals are the ultimate hypocrites. They have a time lampooning poor whites for their supposed racism, yet the same time these caviar socialists live work and play as far from the diversity, vibrancy, and enrichment, that tolerance, diversity, and multiculturalism have brought us as they physically can place themselves.
We invite them to move themselves and their family to the poorest most diversity rich area they can find and walk the walk, while checking THEIR privilege. But, they will not as they know in their heart that this claptrap is a lie. They know that all their grandstanding about 'equality' is merely a stool from which to spit down upon others. They know it is all about them looking down the nose. They. Know.
And yet they still will lecture those who are honest about racial differences, as if they themselves do not believe in these differences. They will continue to prance about as if they are some kind of morally superior human to us poor, working, and middle class whites. They will surely miss no chance to denounce us for being leery of the minorities and their disproportionate amount of criminality, barbarism and savagery. They will continue very much to mock us from their little well to do perch about how we hate these people for taking our jobs.
All of them pretend mightily -- even fooling themselves in some cases -- that they believe these fables about equality being absolute, and every one in every place being the same. But the acts of these caviar socialists; their choices in places to live; the general society with which they surround themselves and their families; all belie the words which they mouth but which do they do not hold to their hearts. The lectures are nothing more than grandstanding, so that they can act superior to others morally.
Being called to task by us 'cracker people' for their malarkey way of acting really gets them going: Oh they hate us 'racists' for calling them out. ( Try it and see Call them out for their Faux Adherence to PC.)
And how they wish they could silence us. But wish, want and will are not the same thing. So accordingly, until what they wish matters We will simply point out that, they choose NOT to live in the rubble of the urban areas where the entire population is 'enriching' and is 100% 'vibrant' in most cases. In point of fact they will fight to live amongst us evil 'racists' whites in the suburbs and rural areas rather than live in the Urban Enriched Zones.
And what is more they do this by choice. Thus indicating a preference by this choice -- Seems the Left needs to Check its Choices! Seems they need to admit reality: Until then They are as We have already said the ultimate in weakling hypocrites. Too Timid to Tell the Truth, and too Weak to Matter if they did!
A little secret ...
- Looks around *
The Majority people of the United States of America, made the United States of America. We the living Majority People are America. Blood Draws to Blood. America is US and we are IT.
Stated Plain: Diversity is NOT a strength; 'diversity' is not our equal at building up a great nation in any way what so ever; People build places; places do not build people. This being so, Tolerating Diversity is irrational because diversity brings Poverty, Squalor, and Crime everywhere in the West it resides.
Diversity, tolerance, 'equality' are all just commie buzz words that describe NO real world items or events when used in a praiseful manner, or that are used to cover up the True Nature of this Blight upon Our People, Nation and Culture.
Diversity is the Death of the First World, Tolerance is Timidity, Mass Immigration is an on going gang rape of our People, and Multiculture is NO Culture at all! All else is PC-Liberal-Commie Fantasy.
This is the cold stark reality of the matter. It cannot be undone by social programs or 'education' or any other human effort as it is part of hard wired biological fact. The fools can lie to themselves but some kinds are not equal to others at the task of building and maintaining a FIRST WORLD CIVILIZATION.
It matters WHO we import: First World People build First World Nations ... Barbarians build NOTHING worthy of being called a 'nation'.
Accordingly if political correctness, through mass immigration replaces the Majority First World American with Barbarians and makes them a minority among alien and competing hordes of barbarian minorities, it will keep the shell, the forms of America, but all of its life, substance, vitality, and greatness will be gone.
What one will in fact have is Detroit, Camden or Gary Indiana writ large, and frankly an example of a once great people going mad and building up their own funeral pyre.
Thus, America will become, Somalia if enough of those primitive backward persons are imported into the Midwestern heartland. It will cease to be a productive breadbasket and become a Fully Dysfunctional Basket-case, there is no doubt about this. Reason?
Because, unequivocally: The People Build the Place in their own image.
Therefore: Somalians will rebuild SOMALIA not Sweden.
Simple really. No equality about it.
'Who' is the paramount question of history.
Any rational person must see that the obvious and foreseeable result of importing third world barbarians will be third world feuds, violence, savagery and over all barbarism here, not a 'richer' America but a degenerate backwards third world state, here in what once was the former USA. If one conceptualizes Northern Ireland or say 'The 40 years Wars' you are onto the truth of what this curse will be like. This is our slated future if the PC Diversity Mass Immigration Tolerance Horde get their way ...
If …
Now ...
Unless you fancy the idea of being overran by a horde of barbarians and giving up the Land Our Fathers Built, You must get your mind right and leave the Color Blind Plantation that keeps you tied to PC.
You must reject the false and embrace the True.
Say the Following:
We reject the false notion that Humans are mere economic beings. We affirm that natural human societies form from families and are thus built upon the duties and rights of the members of those families – or put differently, Society exists so that families can produce living offspring that will be 'Society' in the future.
We reject the liberal-PC-anarchist (communist) ideal of individuals with no loyalty, duty, and no higher morality than mere pleasure or material gain. We affirm that man finds his highest expression when he does his duty to those he owes loyalty to and when those in return do their duty to him. Duty and loyalty are the basis for all rights, not happiness, not material gain.
We affirm that We have a Unique Identity based upon Our Majority ruling this Land and that We value this identity, Majority and Land. We therefore reject the idea that we are just one among many that should 'share' this land, or that we have no right to Our Land and Our Majority.
Having affirmed the above:
We must Unite Behind Our Identity, Our Majority and Our History!
We must unite, behind our rightful Majority; we must reject becoming a purposeful minority in our own lands; we must rally behind our Identity proudly.
We must unite around those things we love!
We we must loudly proclaim that we object to our families, homes, communities being trampled, downgraded, and destroyed by barbarian out-landers.
We must and we shall unite around Our hearths, heritage, history!
We shall unite around our people, and our unique identity!
We shall unite behind Our hearths, our homes, our heritage, our history, our homeland.
We shall unite as One nation.
We shall unite.
We. Shall. Unite. Say. It.
We. Shall. Unite.
We shall Stop PC from Displacing Us.
We shall stop PC from destroying our identity.
We shall put an end to its aiming to subvert and harm us while degrading us in our own homelands.
We shall put an end to its attempts to divide and destroy the family, confuse the genders, as well as stop its attempts to poison our youths minds by means of indoctrination fronting as education. We shall stop cold its attempts to break down our people morally spiritually, ethically, and destroy their false system of thought, replacing it with a morally sound ethic that is in line with OUR values, and that serves Our ends.
We shall unite as One Strong Whole Majority and push aside their false 'two party' binary, as we can surely do better.
We shall do this. Us united as One majority. We affirm, Our Minimum Demands to Be:
One people in One land under One law with One way of life living by the lights of One culture! Unitary! Strong! Whole! One! United as One Nation!
2022.03.17 03:11 AlbertCurtis Magic is for Children not for Nations of Grown Men
The country club conservatives have this belief in magic. They believe that if you put a thing in a hat and wave a piece of paper around it can physically become another item! Yes t'is truth! They verily believe that magically a piece of paper, is able to turn a person of one nation into a person of another nation. Further they believe, that because a piece of paper says that all persons are equal that all nations of persons are equal.
Therefore they reason it doesn't matter where we import new citizens from because everyone is the same. And this is a fantasy, based upon Liberal Lies.
The real fact is that no such equality exists in nature, and thus these conservatives are deluded, tools of the Egalitarians. Persons are not equal to persons, nations are not equal to nations, and therefore who from where matters as to, what results, how. Why?
Because, and this is the God's Truth, abilities are inborn, they come from descent. And mere pieces of paper, and the legalistic magic rituals cannot at any time ever make people(s) equal as DNA made them Unequal from Birth.
This is shown time and again, by different outcomes among different groups of people based largely upon the single common denominator of common origin and descent. It is simply a hardwired part of natural survival strategies playing out in groups as they are designed to by nature--or God if you wish.
This inequality categorically is not the result of racism, xenophobia, or hatred; it is in fact only the natural abilities of each separate kind playing itself out, and resulting in natural inequality, which is just the way of things in nature.
It is not subject to political pressures, it cannot be changed by applying money or resources to it; again the only thing that can happen is that the higher will be brought to the status of the lower in a vain attempt to bring up or cannot be brought up, or to shape that which will not be shaped.
PC will have you believe that tribal savages live the way they do because of racism but that is just their natural way of living. PC cannot accept this naturally unequal status.
Thus the war PC is waging against inequality is a war against nature itself. It is a war against all kinds. It is the act of the common enemy of all mankind. It surely will be this destruction of our kind, if we allowed it to continue with its mad quest for equality with third world savages.
To that end, the country club conservatives are the hewers of wood, and porters of water for the PC world order. Carrying the egalitarian logs with all the cheer of a coolie in their magical belief in the power of paper.
Their insistence On using words like racism as shaming words. Their kowtowing to equality as if it is reality. All these cowardly and servile acts, facilitate the destruction of our people and our nation.
These conservatives are the equivalent of the Western roman aristocrats talking about barbarians becoming good Romans; it was a fantasy then and is a fantasy now. It destroyed the Romans then, and if followed long enough, to full enough a result, it would destroy us now.
Thus these country club conservatives, these colorblind GOP dolts, must be put to task with the rest of the PC banker golden calf worshiping crew ( both D and R ); for they are the face of the enemy, and work against our best interest in all of their ways. They are the enemy within and thus must be dealt with most severely else they will betray uS all to Political Correctne$$ and Diver$ity every time they get a chance.
What is a Nation?
Seems like an easy question why do some, many really, nationalists have such a hard time with this simple question we wonder?
We have a very very simple answer: A nation is a family of families which have homes, hearths, and heritages. These combine over time by natural increase to become a People, who have a commonality of language and ways, a history which is shared by them and a unique culture that binds them. This people then form up a Nation which ensures to them access to land upon which to gain a livelihood, and thus a life, and a state, which acts to bring law, order and justice inside the circle of the people and as the administrative machinery to keep out those that would harm the integral wholeness of the Family which underlays the entire structure.
United as One Nation
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC!
We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life,and One United Majority Voice!
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people! One body which is our state. All of this together makes one nation-- complete unto itself; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
PC's Days are Numbered.
Every single assertion made by Political Correctness is a Lie and is in Error. Diversity is a weakness. Tolerance a vice. Multicult a shoddy production, not a shining example for 'humanity'. Equality is a bad joke, that means 'equal to dirt'.
PC took over our institutions with the intent and purpose of destroying the majority people's authority in Our Own Homelands – and creating of them a Minority among many many other minorities, in their own lands – so that those elitist and their leftist and right scallywag carpetbagger Allies (the clowns with D and R after their names those scallywags and carpetbaggers) can have it their own way. Thus it is both inherently opportunists and subversive. Being perfectly willing, to make treason pay big, and to pay big for treason, at turns.
Political correctness has been instituted to: destroy our identity; shame Us into accepting own denigration in our homelands; to divide and destroy the family; to 'remake' The People into consumerist persons; break the People down morally in a thousand subtle ways; and divide us meaninglessly endlessly and uselessly politically.
This all is done to make us weak and ensures that the virus of political correctness infects Our body and Our very souls unchecked, as Our Pantries, Closest and Pockets are picked clean!
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC! We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life, and One United Majority Voice!
We must and shall become an united majority population that is not afraid to say," we Choose ourselves and reject PC. We reject diversity and becoming a minority in our own lands! We choose to remain, and We shall remain one people in one land under one Law, with one way of life, living by the light of one culture united as one nation! We have chosen and that is the end of the matter! (For Vox Populi vox dei! )
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people; One body which is our state and all of this together makes one nation-- complete unto itself; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
The Days are Numbered for PC and Multicult!
Unite for your Majority! United as One Nation!
Folks if you're a majority citizen, in what is soon to be the former United States of America, then my friends, I would advise highly, thinking about your future outside of the political system.
Now friends, I know that the government hasn't changed openly. But we all know that it is not the same creature, that was even so recently as under Nixon or even Carter. It is alien and foreign to us the Rightful Majority – Openly Proclaiming it supports our becoming a purposeful minority in Own Own Lands! That's the truth. Now lets get this out of the way: I’m not here to bash of one party or the other, the blame spreads equally. Both parties, not unlike the pigs and the men at the end of animal farm, are playing cards at the table with each other. Gambling away our futures, grubbing our money while bowing low to their Masters on Wall Street and In London! Doing anything but ruling from DC! Representing anyone but the majority people! They are responsible to internationalist over nationalist principles and loyal to foreigners over the Majority People who are the Real Nation called 'America' and No others!
For us Working and Middle Class majority citizens it is time to face the fact: The program called 'the two party system' is defunct! It ( the system both the Dems and GOP ) represent: Big Money, PC, Internationalism, Cronyism and Nepotism, NOT Free Exchange, Tradition, Nation, Merit, and Justice. Thus, Anyone who talks about the GOP this or the democrats that, I say please wake up, thank you. They are ALL WWF style actors. In the end the Majority is forgotten and Big-Money and Political Correctness Triumph on the Hill; daily! In a million ways! And the triumph of these two is the implicit victory of internationalist principles over Nationalist principles of governance.
Therefore both of the Parties are, to judge by their actions not words, nothing more than greater or lesser subsidiaries of those two listed 'Real Powers' -- joint stock ventures owned by the elite to maximize profits from us Majority Folks. Between them they have driven the majority, traditional, Western, heartland, citizen in America, to a status of dependence (off shored jobs, farm and home foreclosures, and 'market unrest'), upon a market, an elite, and a government, which is dedicated, to an egalitarian Red Diaper Baby ideology, called "political correctness" which by means of mass immigration of third world low value added hordes, enforced tolerance(your toleration of PC's pets lowering your quality of life), and diversity(lower paid alien hordes), open proclaims its intent to destroy that majority population's unique identity, flood our lands with alien foreign hordes, debase our culture by eradicating; up end the family; and most insulting of all, force Us all to pay for this 'benefit' while we are called names like racist for not wanting the benefits, we have had foisted upon us!
The reality is, that by the machinations PC and the Money Bags (the two powers behind the American throne we are not suppose to question... 'Equality, Tolerance and Diversity' and the Holy Market. ) Control the parties utterly from top to bottom, and almost to the living room level if you factor in the media.
The media and academic allies of this great plot against Civilization, label anyone that speaks out against any of its dogmas as a hater, a racist, a xenophobic racist hate filled Not-See even, but that's all smoke and fluff.
It is exactly identical to a virus telling the healthy cell is the invading, that the cell is hateful for rejecting the virus.
For the healthy cell like a healthy people,a healthy culture, a healthy society wishes to reproduce itself as itself like itself.
PC on the other hand wishes for the western world to produce copies of communist inspired egalitarian third world multicultural cesspits and not of itself proper and orderly. It is thus exactly analogous to a social and ideological virus.
The politically correct will label me a hate filled not-see or whatever they will, but those are merely shaming tactics descended from Freudian psychology --which I reject in total, and so they matter not to me-- this shaming tactic is of course PC strongest weapon against the masses.
It comes the undeniable fact that political correctness is in 100% firm control of academia, the media and more and more the political structure.
These facts being due to the deeper and seldom discussed fact that "political correctness" is in fact an alliance of the left wing communists and the scions of the banking industrialist robber barons of last century.
Every single assertion made by Political Correctness is a Lie and is in Error. Diversity is a weakness. Tolerance a vice. Multicult a shoddy production, not a shining example for 'humanity'. Equality is a bad joke, that means 'equal to dirt'.
PC took over our institutions with the intent of purpose of destroying the majority people's authority in Our Own Homelands – and creating of them a Minority among many many other minorities, in their own lands – so that those elitist and their leftist and right scallywag carpetbagger Allies (the clowns with D and R after their names those scallywags and carpetbaggers) can have it their own way. Thus it is both inherently opportunists and subversive. Being perfectly willing, to make treason pay big, and to pay big for treason, at turns.
Political correctness has been instituted to: destroy our identity; shame Us into accepting own denigration in our homelands; to divide and destroy the family; to 'remake' The People into consumerist persons; break the People down morally in a thousand subtle ways and divide us meaninglessly endlessly and uselessly politically. This all is done to in making us weak and ensuring that the virus of political correctness infects Our citizen body and Our very souls, as Our Pantries, Closest and Pockets are picked clean!
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC!
We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We must unite around all that we hold dear. And we must speak up to defend that which we Love and Treasure. We must recall what it is to be a Proper People Unitary, Whole Complete and Strong!
We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life, and One United Majority Voice!
We must and shall become a united majority population that is not afraid to say," we Choose ourselves and reject PC. We reject diversity and becoming a minority in our own lands! We reject anyone and anything that tried to bring this result upon US!
We choose to remain one people in one land under one Law, with one way of life, living by the light of one culture united as one nation!
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people! One body which is our state! We are complete unto ourselves; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
Once THE (not 'a' but THE) Majority People United in defense of their homes, futures and Majority, take to the streets, with chants like this in our hearts and on their minds: the days of PC numbered.
You are a racist says the Judas!
Racism, is a BS word used by the ELITE and PC fanatics ( who work as ONE team against the Nations who they are sucking dry and killing off with mass immigration and enforced diversity!) to keep the Majority from Uniting for own group interests! It is the exact same as the Kings Men calling the Colonists 'rebels' and 'a rabble' it is meant to demoralize and demean them in the eyes of the common person. But I seem to recall a certain Rabble banded together and beat the King as We the Majority shall band together and defeat PC and Diversity and keep our lands, laws, way of life! Our Culture, Our Heritage, Our Unique Identity!
The time of the Shaming Words Power is coming to an end; the Time of the United Majority is upon us!
A nation is a home -- would you let illegals invade your home?
A nation is a home. Would it be 'racist' to insist that people only enter your home upon your rules and only stay upon your terms?
Then why should we cower before illegal immigrants just because they say 'racist' at us? It is OUR nation and they have NO right to be here against OUR will, using our nation as a flop house slash charity. So in effect they are calling us racist for complaining about being their doormat and paying their way.
And to our shame largely we suck this up like cowards.
Repeat after me: It is not racist to prefer your own kind, your own family, your own ways and your own values over those of invaders trying to force themselves upon you. It is perfectly normal to want to EXCLUDE others from your Homes who do not belong and who cause problems for you and yours.
And to put to bed the nonsense 'legal - illegal' evasion:
Legal ... Illegal ... Nope it is 100% about One is like the Others and One Does not Belong, because We say so and that is that.
We are full and are not taking new lodgers at this time! It is about Our House, Our Rules, Our Way, or Hit the Highway!
And we don't have to answer to anyone for that because this land is OURS not theirs. This land they are invading is our home. This is OURS: Period. We don't have to back peddle or explain, or simper or care about your concerns one little bit.
And that is the long and short of it: It is about WE proper born citizens want our land and we are tired of subversives from inside our own gate trying to sell it our from under US to the lowest third world bidder. We want OUR land full of OUR people, who will carry on our traditions and ways, not full of low paid labor for Walmart.
We want our land to ourselves, for ourselves by ourselves to give to those like ourselves that will carry on the chain of those like ourselves.
So let us stop being cowards and hiding behind legal and illegal when it is about being over ran by a foreign alien horde of barbarians in our own lands, plain and simple. It is about defending our way of life, our lands, and our right to our way of life and lands. It is about US remaining US. We are not a club you get to join by paying immigration fines. We are not a source of profits or growth. We are a living organic People with a destiny, an history and a will to be free from this Multicultural Prison Camp Society.
The Egalitarian Left AND the Country Club Right are the true enemy it is NOT a case of eitheor, but of BOTH pairing up to have turns at you. Mass Immigration is just one of many assaults happening all along the line of Culture and Kind.
The Left will call you names and the Right will promise you pennies it never intends to deliver but they both are working full time to force you into accepting their plan to balkanize you in your own nation. That is to say it plain the plan of the Elite ( $ ) who control both the (D) and (R) is to rapidly make Majority Americans a at most plurality but more likely a absolute minority on purpose in America. They will then flood our living quarters with 'Die Versity' ( section 8 and 'minority set asides' will be the means here) to ensure Americans have no effective voting power and are trapped being the whipping boy and tax slave to the system, which sold you out to 'diversity' and mammon in equal measures. So the left gets its 'egalitarian' paradise kept in place by an invasive police state, and the right gets its slave labor camp kept in check by the slaves snitching on each other and the police state, and the Elite get POWER. Never let the enemy frame your thinking!
Never let the Enemy frame the debate. They try to spin it around in every way possible but : It is about defending our way of life, our lands, and our right to our way of life and lands. It is about US remaining US in OUR lands.
The credit Monopoly
The western peoples, are ruled by a credit monopoly, which has chosen the facade of democracy,'freedom' and market principles; yet labels not with standing none of these states are governed in the interest of the Nation which founded them. Not a single one.
But how can this be? They are all 'democracies' and the people get to vote, freely, for several candidates of 'their choices' do they not? Well, yes in all of these nations, there is a nominal right and left (a relic of the French Revolution). I say nominal, because, both parties are under the control, of the money donors whose approval they must gain, to hold office. The Donor pays the Candidates way and the elected fellow repays with favorable legislation, rulings or enforcement. By way of this power of the purse the donors thereby secure access to public money and power over the public, by means of their puppets in the parties. These donors are none other than the domestic face of the Credit Monopoly. And the parties their rum-dummies.
The parties are paid to misrule in the interest of the international financial credit monopoly, which interests are more often than not adverse to the interests of the nation in which the nominal parties operate. Thus any party which the credit monopoly continues to support with money, does not operate to the interest of the common person; whose national interests are adverse to the international credit monopoly's interests.
Those parties the credit monopoly favor are favored by the media, and those policies they support are given serious attention, and 'sold' to the public as 'reasonable' and 'the compromises necessary to keep things going' and under a hundred other guises.
However, Any party, policy or action, promoted, supported or otherwise presented by the commons to see to its own interests outside those bounds set by the Monopoly is suppressed, both by legal and extra legal means.
Therefore elections are really a formality since no matter which party 'wins' at the poll, the credit monopoly's money wins the (s)election, therefore the credit monopoly always wins; having paid the way of ALL 'major' parties and most 'minor' ones. In fact the Money that owns the so called 'two party' simple cannot lose long term the way the matter works out in real life. There being plenty of weak and desperate persons among the masses willing to take their money.
'The People' and 'a majority of citizens' comes to mean those that pay for the parties way, and no others surly not a numerical majority of citizens. Thus we have in fact a 'vote' counted in dollar amounts or what can be called 'financial democracies'.
Through this financial democracy the Credit Monopoly have bought the freedom to write laws in their favor. Thus this monopoly, controls much more than just credit, and the volume and value of the money supply, since these same persons who make up the credit monopoly, have also employed the corporate veil, to combine their money, and dominate the general economy, media, and academia as well as the finance economy by means of the power of the purse. They are a full set, cradle to grave operation – wishing to maximize profits off of every major event in your life from birth, to death.
So we have a situation where the so called productive economy, which is really just the productive citizens, is being milked dry, against the National will, to the advantage of the small group of international traitors who collectively comprise the credit monopoly. And this situation is generalized across, all of the western nations. Some more than others and all a bit different but all the same in essence.
In Fine: The Problem we are not suppose to mention is that Cosmopolitan Credit is King over our Countries of Birth and is attempting to subjugate us in our Ancestral Lands.
This situation can only be remedied, by ensuring to the Nation the power to issue their own credit free from the internationalist Creditors and their bought pet parties control and outside their power thus beyond their authority.
My sense is that this can be done best by: banding together on the local level; forming productive enterprises; buying selling and trading at the local level with the intent to form your own local pricing mechanism; and finally banding all of this wealth and expertise together as communities into credit unions. Credit Unions are unlike a bank ran for the interests of those whose money is deposited in them, and are 100% controlled by the members. Thus one has, a productive local economy, based upon LOCALLY controlled prices, and credit that is ultimately based upon said local work and efforts, not on the say so of international financiers.
It is my feeling that such enterprises, would put the lie to to the false two party systems. It would show them to be the lapdogs for international finance, which they indeed are. And would wield together the people, into a unitary wholeness, which would be much harder for the international money monopoly to manage and maintain control over; a unified group being harder to master than single individuals. It is my feeling that trying to take this power from these united wholes would result in very large popular outbursts, which outburst could and will only end badly for the Credit Monopoly.
It is my feeling, but all of this hard work, needed to bring about these credit systems, will act as a solvent to wash away much of the destruction that the credit monopoly has unleashed on the west.
The first great washing, will come in the minds of those who create credit from wealth as they realize these bankers have lied to them the whole time. We are credit; they've simply been selling us back our own work! From this all the rest of Modernity and PC, Diversity and the rest crumbles as it is all based upon the Credit Monopoly Usurers controlling The People's Credit and thus being able to FORCE PC upon us at the end of a Loan! Reject any; reject all! Take back the one; fight back all the others!
Liberal Lies:
Here be Hypocrites!
Liberals are the ultimate hypocrites. They have a time lampooning poor whites for their supposed racism, yet the same time these caviar socialists live work and play as far from the diversity, vibrancy, and enrichment, that tolerance, diversity, and multiculturalism have brought us as they physically can place themselves.
We invite them to move themselves and their family to the poorest most diversity rich area they can find and walk the walk, while checking THEIR privilege. But, they will not as they know in their heart that this claptrap is a lie. They know that all their grandstanding about 'equality' is merely a stool from which to spit down upon others. They know it is all about them looking down the nose. They. Know.
And yet they still will lecture those who are honest about racial differences, as if they themselves do not believe in these differences. They will continue to prance about as if they are some kind of morally superior human to us poor, working, and middle class whites. They will surely miss no chance to denounce us for being leery of the minorities and their disproportionate amount of criminality, barbarism and savagery. They will continue very much to mock us from their little well to do perch about how we hate these people for taking our jobs.
All of them pretend mightily -- even fooling themselves in some cases -- that they believe these fables about equality being absolute, and every one in every place being the same. But the acts of these caviar socialists; their choices in places to live; the general society with which they surround themselves and their families; all belie the words which they mouth but which do they do not hold to their hearts. The lectures are nothing more than grandstanding, so that they can act superior to others morally.
Being called to task by us 'cracker people' for their malarkey way of acting really gets them going: Oh they hate us 'racists' for calling them out. ( Try it and see Call them out for their Faux Adherence to PC.)
And how they wish they could silence us. But wish, want and will are not the same thing. So accordingly, until what they wish matters We will simply point out that, they choose NOT to live in the rubble of the urban areas where the entire population is 'enriching' and is 100% 'vibrant' in most cases. In point of fact they will fight to live amongst us evil 'racists' whites in the suburbs and rural areas rather than live in the Urban Enriched Zones.
And what is more they do this by choice. Thus indicating a preference by this choice -- Seems the Left needs to Check its Choices! Seems they need to admit reality: Until then They are as We have already said the ultimate in weakling hypocrites. Too Timid to Tell the Truth, and too Weak to Matter if they did!
A little secret ...
The Majority people of the United States of America, made the United States of America. We the living Majority People are America. Blood Draws to Blood. America is US and we are IT.
Stated Plain: Diversity is NOT a strength; 'diversity' is not our equal at building up a great nation in any way what so ever; People build places; places do not build people. This being so, Tolerating Diversity is irrational because diversity brings Poverty, Squalor, and Crime everywhere in the West it resides.
Diversity, tolerance, 'equality' are all just commie buzz words that describe NO real world items or events when used in a praiseful manner, or that are used to cover up the True Nature of this Blight upon Our People, Nation and Culture.
Diversity is the Death of the First World, Tolerance is Timidity, Mass Immigration is an on going gang rape of our People, and Multiculture is NO Culture at all! All else is PC-Liberal-Commie Fantasy.
This is the cold stark reality of the matter. It cannot be undone by social programs or 'education' or any other human effort as it is part of hard wired biological fact. The fools can lie to themselves but some kinds are not equal to others at the task of building and maintaining a FIRST WORLD CIVILIZATION.
It matters WHO we import: First World People build First World Nations ... Barbarians build NOTHING worthy of being called a 'nation'.
Accordingly if political correctness, through mass immigration replaces the Majority First World American with Barbarians and makes them a minority among alien and competing hordes of barbarian minorities, it will keep the shell, the forms of America, but all of its life, substance, vitality, and greatness will be gone.
What one will in fact have is Detroit, Camden or Gary Indiana writ large, and frankly an example of a once great people going mad and building up their own funeral pyre.
Thus, America will become, Somalia if enough of those primitive backward persons are imported into the Midwestern heartland. It will cease to be a productive breadbasket and become a Fully Dysfunctional Basket-case, there is no doubt about this. Reason?
Because, unequivocally: The People Build the Place in their own image.
Therefore: Somalians will rebuild SOMALIA not Sweden.
Simple really. No equality about it.
'Who' is the paramount question of history.
Any rational person must see that the obvious and foreseeable result of importing third world barbarians will be third world feuds, violence, savagery and over all barbarism here, not a 'richer' America but a degenerate backwards third world state, here in what once was the former USA. If one conceptualizes Northern Ireland or say 'The 40 years Wars' you are onto the truth of what this curse will be like. This is our slated future if the PC Diversity Mass Immigration Tolerance Horde get their way ...
If …
Now ...
Unless you fancy the idea of being overran by a horde of barbarians and giving up the Land Our Fathers Built, You must get your mind right and leave the Color Blind Plantation that keeps you tied to PC.
You must reject the false and embrace the True.
Say the Following:
We reject the false notion that Humans are mere economic beings. We affirm that natural human societies form from families and are thus built upon the duties and rights of the members of those families – or put differently, Society exists so that families can produce living offspring that will be 'Society' in the future.
We reject the liberal-PC-anarchist (communist) ideal of individuals with no loyalty, duty, and no higher morality than mere pleasure or material gain. We affirm that man finds his highest expression when he does his duty to those he owes loyalty to and when those in return do their duty to him. Duty and loyalty are the basis for all rights, not happiness, not material gain.
We affirm that We have a Unique Identity based upon Our Majority ruling this Land and that We value this identity, Majority and Land. We therefore reject the idea that we are just one among many that should 'share' this land, or that we have no right to Our Land and Our Majority.
Having affirmed the above:
We must Unite Behind Our Identity, Our Majority and Our History!
We must unite, behind our rightful Majority; we must reject becoming a purposeful minority in our own lands; we must rally behind our Identity proudly.
We must unite around those things we love!
We we must loudly proclaim that we object to our families, homes, communities being trampled, downgraded, and destroyed by barbarian out-landers.
We must and we shall unite around Our hearths, heritage, history!
We shall unite around our people, and our unique identity!
We shall unite behind Our hearths, our homes, our heritage, our history, our homeland.
We shall unite as One nation.
We shall unite.
We. Shall. Unite. Say. It.
We. Shall. Unite.
We shall Stop PC from Displacing Us.
We shall stop PC from destroying our identity.
We shall put an end to its aiming to subvert and harm us while degrading us in our own homelands.
We shall put an end to its attempts to divide and destroy the family, confuse the genders, as well as stop its attempts to poison our youths minds by means of indoctrination fronting as education. We shall stop cold its attempts to break down our people morally spiritually, ethically, and destroy their false system of thought, replacing it with a morally sound ethic that is in line with OUR values, and that serves Our ends.
We shall unite as One Strong Whole Majority and push aside their false 'two party' binary, as we can surely do better.
We shall do this. Us united as One majority. We affirm, Our Minimum Demands to Be:
One people in One land under One law with One way of life living by the lights of One culture! Unitary! Strong! Whole! One! United as One Nation!
submitted by AlbertCurtis to InsaneTake [link] [comments]
Therefore they reason it doesn't matter where we import new citizens from because everyone is the same. And this is a fantasy, based upon Liberal Lies.
The real fact is that no such equality exists in nature, and thus these conservatives are deluded, tools of the Egalitarians. Persons are not equal to persons, nations are not equal to nations, and therefore who from where matters as to, what results, how. Why?
Because, and this is the God's Truth, abilities are inborn, they come from descent. And mere pieces of paper, and the legalistic magic rituals cannot at any time ever make people(s) equal as DNA made them Unequal from Birth.
This is shown time and again, by different outcomes among different groups of people based largely upon the single common denominator of common origin and descent. It is simply a hardwired part of natural survival strategies playing out in groups as they are designed to by nature--or God if you wish.
This inequality categorically is not the result of racism, xenophobia, or hatred; it is in fact only the natural abilities of each separate kind playing itself out, and resulting in natural inequality, which is just the way of things in nature.
It is not subject to political pressures, it cannot be changed by applying money or resources to it; again the only thing that can happen is that the higher will be brought to the status of the lower in a vain attempt to bring up or cannot be brought up, or to shape that which will not be shaped.
PC will have you believe that tribal savages live the way they do because of racism but that is just their natural way of living. PC cannot accept this naturally unequal status.
Thus the war PC is waging against inequality is a war against nature itself. It is a war against all kinds. It is the act of the common enemy of all mankind. It surely will be this destruction of our kind, if we allowed it to continue with its mad quest for equality with third world savages.
To that end, the country club conservatives are the hewers of wood, and porters of water for the PC world order. Carrying the egalitarian logs with all the cheer of a coolie in their magical belief in the power of paper.
Their insistence On using words like racism as shaming words. Their kowtowing to equality as if it is reality. All these cowardly and servile acts, facilitate the destruction of our people and our nation.
These conservatives are the equivalent of the Western roman aristocrats talking about barbarians becoming good Romans; it was a fantasy then and is a fantasy now. It destroyed the Romans then, and if followed long enough, to full enough a result, it would destroy us now.
Thus these country club conservatives, these colorblind GOP dolts, must be put to task with the rest of the PC banker golden calf worshiping crew ( both D and R ); for they are the face of the enemy, and work against our best interest in all of their ways. They are the enemy within and thus must be dealt with most severely else they will betray uS all to Political Correctne$$ and Diver$ity every time they get a chance.
What is a Nation?
Seems like an easy question why do some, many really, nationalists have such a hard time with this simple question we wonder?
We have a very very simple answer: A nation is a family of families which have homes, hearths, and heritages. These combine over time by natural increase to become a People, who have a commonality of language and ways, a history which is shared by them and a unique culture that binds them. This people then form up a Nation which ensures to them access to land upon which to gain a livelihood, and thus a life, and a state, which acts to bring law, order and justice inside the circle of the people and as the administrative machinery to keep out those that would harm the integral wholeness of the Family which underlays the entire structure.
United as One Nation
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC!
We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life,and One United Majority Voice!
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people! One body which is our state. All of this together makes one nation-- complete unto itself; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
PC's Days are Numbered.
Every single assertion made by Political Correctness is a Lie and is in Error. Diversity is a weakness. Tolerance a vice. Multicult a shoddy production, not a shining example for 'humanity'. Equality is a bad joke, that means 'equal to dirt'.
PC took over our institutions with the intent and purpose of destroying the majority people's authority in Our Own Homelands – and creating of them a Minority among many many other minorities, in their own lands – so that those elitist and their leftist and right scallywag carpetbagger Allies (the clowns with D and R after their names those scallywags and carpetbaggers) can have it their own way. Thus it is both inherently opportunists and subversive. Being perfectly willing, to make treason pay big, and to pay big for treason, at turns.
Political correctness has been instituted to: destroy our identity; shame Us into accepting own denigration in our homelands; to divide and destroy the family; to 'remake' The People into consumerist persons; break the People down morally in a thousand subtle ways; and divide us meaninglessly endlessly and uselessly politically.
This all is done to make us weak and ensures that the virus of political correctness infects Our body and Our very souls unchecked, as Our Pantries, Closest and Pockets are picked clean!
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC! We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life, and One United Majority Voice!
We must and shall become an united majority population that is not afraid to say," we Choose ourselves and reject PC. We reject diversity and becoming a minority in our own lands! We choose to remain, and We shall remain one people in one land under one Law, with one way of life, living by the light of one culture united as one nation! We have chosen and that is the end of the matter! (For Vox Populi vox dei! )
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people; One body which is our state and all of this together makes one nation-- complete unto itself; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
The Days are Numbered for PC and Multicult!
Unite for your Majority! United as One Nation!
Folks if you're a majority citizen, in what is soon to be the former United States of America, then my friends, I would advise highly, thinking about your future outside of the political system.
Now friends, I know that the government hasn't changed openly. But we all know that it is not the same creature, that was even so recently as under Nixon or even Carter. It is alien and foreign to us the Rightful Majority – Openly Proclaiming it supports our becoming a purposeful minority in Own Own Lands! That's the truth. Now lets get this out of the way: I’m not here to bash of one party or the other, the blame spreads equally. Both parties, not unlike the pigs and the men at the end of animal farm, are playing cards at the table with each other. Gambling away our futures, grubbing our money while bowing low to their Masters on Wall Street and In London! Doing anything but ruling from DC! Representing anyone but the majority people! They are responsible to internationalist over nationalist principles and loyal to foreigners over the Majority People who are the Real Nation called 'America' and No others!
For us Working and Middle Class majority citizens it is time to face the fact: The program called 'the two party system' is defunct! It ( the system both the Dems and GOP ) represent: Big Money, PC, Internationalism, Cronyism and Nepotism, NOT Free Exchange, Tradition, Nation, Merit, and Justice. Thus, Anyone who talks about the GOP this or the democrats that, I say please wake up, thank you. They are ALL WWF style actors. In the end the Majority is forgotten and Big-Money and Political Correctness Triumph on the Hill; daily! In a million ways! And the triumph of these two is the implicit victory of internationalist principles over Nationalist principles of governance.
Therefore both of the Parties are, to judge by their actions not words, nothing more than greater or lesser subsidiaries of those two listed 'Real Powers' -- joint stock ventures owned by the elite to maximize profits from us Majority Folks. Between them they have driven the majority, traditional, Western, heartland, citizen in America, to a status of dependence (off shored jobs, farm and home foreclosures, and 'market unrest'), upon a market, an elite, and a government, which is dedicated, to an egalitarian Red Diaper Baby ideology, called "political correctness" which by means of mass immigration of third world low value added hordes, enforced tolerance(your toleration of PC's pets lowering your quality of life), and diversity(lower paid alien hordes), open proclaims its intent to destroy that majority population's unique identity, flood our lands with alien foreign hordes, debase our culture by eradicating; up end the family; and most insulting of all, force Us all to pay for this 'benefit' while we are called names like racist for not wanting the benefits, we have had foisted upon us!
The reality is, that by the machinations PC and the Money Bags (the two powers behind the American throne we are not suppose to question... 'Equality, Tolerance and Diversity' and the Holy Market. ) Control the parties utterly from top to bottom, and almost to the living room level if you factor in the media.
The media and academic allies of this great plot against Civilization, label anyone that speaks out against any of its dogmas as a hater, a racist, a xenophobic racist hate filled Not-See even, but that's all smoke and fluff.
It is exactly identical to a virus telling the healthy cell is the invading, that the cell is hateful for rejecting the virus.
For the healthy cell like a healthy people,a healthy culture, a healthy society wishes to reproduce itself as itself like itself.
PC on the other hand wishes for the western world to produce copies of communist inspired egalitarian third world multicultural cesspits and not of itself proper and orderly. It is thus exactly analogous to a social and ideological virus.
The politically correct will label me a hate filled not-see or whatever they will, but those are merely shaming tactics descended from Freudian psychology --which I reject in total, and so they matter not to me-- this shaming tactic is of course PC strongest weapon against the masses.
It comes the undeniable fact that political correctness is in 100% firm control of academia, the media and more and more the political structure.
These facts being due to the deeper and seldom discussed fact that "political correctness" is in fact an alliance of the left wing communists and the scions of the banking industrialist robber barons of last century.
Every single assertion made by Political Correctness is a Lie and is in Error. Diversity is a weakness. Tolerance a vice. Multicult a shoddy production, not a shining example for 'humanity'. Equality is a bad joke, that means 'equal to dirt'.
PC took over our institutions with the intent of purpose of destroying the majority people's authority in Our Own Homelands – and creating of them a Minority among many many other minorities, in their own lands – so that those elitist and their leftist and right scallywag carpetbagger Allies (the clowns with D and R after their names those scallywags and carpetbaggers) can have it their own way. Thus it is both inherently opportunists and subversive. Being perfectly willing, to make treason pay big, and to pay big for treason, at turns.
Political correctness has been instituted to: destroy our identity; shame Us into accepting own denigration in our homelands; to divide and destroy the family; to 'remake' The People into consumerist persons; break the People down morally in a thousand subtle ways and divide us meaninglessly endlessly and uselessly politically. This all is done to in making us weak and ensuring that the virus of political correctness infects Our citizen body and Our very souls, as Our Pantries, Closest and Pockets are picked clean!
The keys to stopping political correctness are: speaking out against it and encouraging others to rejecting its communist inspired egalitarian mamma jamba; and, a united majority population; those are the two keys to ensuring PC is routed.
We have to awake from our slumber take notice of the late hour, and rage against going into the Perverse Light of PC!
We must UNITE behind our Majority, Our History, Our Families, Our Homes! We must unite around all that we hold dear. And we must speak up to defend that which we Love and Treasure. We must recall what it is to be a Proper People Unitary, Whole Complete and Strong!
We Must cease being a mere trading post country and become a proper united Nation with One People, One Culture, One Way of Life, and One United Majority Voice!
We must and shall become a united majority population that is not afraid to say," we Choose ourselves and reject PC. We reject diversity and becoming a minority in our own lands! We reject anyone and anything that tried to bring this result upon US!
We choose to remain one people in one land under one Law, with one way of life, living by the light of one culture united as one nation!
We state and believe:
A culture is the Soul and Mind of a Nation; A unique People its living Heart and Blood; A state the Peoples body and defense! We have one culture complete! One heart which is our people! One body which is our state! We are complete unto ourselves; unique and lacking in naught – We are United as one nation!
Once THE (not 'a' but THE) Majority People United in defense of their homes, futures and Majority, take to the streets, with chants like this in our hearts and on their minds: the days of PC numbered.
You are a racist says the Judas!
Racism, is a BS word used by the ELITE and PC fanatics ( who work as ONE team against the Nations who they are sucking dry and killing off with mass immigration and enforced diversity!) to keep the Majority from Uniting for own group interests! It is the exact same as the Kings Men calling the Colonists 'rebels' and 'a rabble' it is meant to demoralize and demean them in the eyes of the common person. But I seem to recall a certain Rabble banded together and beat the King as We the Majority shall band together and defeat PC and Diversity and keep our lands, laws, way of life! Our Culture, Our Heritage, Our Unique Identity!
The time of the Shaming Words Power is coming to an end; the Time of the United Majority is upon us!
A nation is a home -- would you let illegals invade your home?
A nation is a home. Would it be 'racist' to insist that people only enter your home upon your rules and only stay upon your terms?
Then why should we cower before illegal immigrants just because they say 'racist' at us? It is OUR nation and they have NO right to be here against OUR will, using our nation as a flop house slash charity. So in effect they are calling us racist for complaining about being their doormat and paying their way.
And to our shame largely we suck this up like cowards.
Repeat after me: It is not racist to prefer your own kind, your own family, your own ways and your own values over those of invaders trying to force themselves upon you. It is perfectly normal to want to EXCLUDE others from your Homes who do not belong and who cause problems for you and yours.
And to put to bed the nonsense 'legal - illegal' evasion:
Legal ... Illegal ... Nope it is 100% about One is like the Others and One Does not Belong, because We say so and that is that.
We are full and are not taking new lodgers at this time! It is about Our House, Our Rules, Our Way, or Hit the Highway!
And we don't have to answer to anyone for that because this land is OURS not theirs. This land they are invading is our home. This is OURS: Period. We don't have to back peddle or explain, or simper or care about your concerns one little bit.
And that is the long and short of it: It is about WE proper born citizens want our land and we are tired of subversives from inside our own gate trying to sell it our from under US to the lowest third world bidder. We want OUR land full of OUR people, who will carry on our traditions and ways, not full of low paid labor for Walmart.
We want our land to ourselves, for ourselves by ourselves to give to those like ourselves that will carry on the chain of those like ourselves.
So let us stop being cowards and hiding behind legal and illegal when it is about being over ran by a foreign alien horde of barbarians in our own lands, plain and simple. It is about defending our way of life, our lands, and our right to our way of life and lands. It is about US remaining US. We are not a club you get to join by paying immigration fines. We are not a source of profits or growth. We are a living organic People with a destiny, an history and a will to be free from this Multicultural Prison Camp Society.
The Egalitarian Left AND the Country Club Right are the true enemy it is NOT a case of eitheor, but of BOTH pairing up to have turns at you. Mass Immigration is just one of many assaults happening all along the line of Culture and Kind.
The Left will call you names and the Right will promise you pennies it never intends to deliver but they both are working full time to force you into accepting their plan to balkanize you in your own nation. That is to say it plain the plan of the Elite ( $ ) who control both the (D) and (R) is to rapidly make Majority Americans a at most plurality but more likely a absolute minority on purpose in America. They will then flood our living quarters with 'Die Versity' ( section 8 and 'minority set asides' will be the means here) to ensure Americans have no effective voting power and are trapped being the whipping boy and tax slave to the system, which sold you out to 'diversity' and mammon in equal measures. So the left gets its 'egalitarian' paradise kept in place by an invasive police state, and the right gets its slave labor camp kept in check by the slaves snitching on each other and the police state, and the Elite get POWER. Never let the enemy frame your thinking!
Never let the Enemy frame the debate. They try to spin it around in every way possible but : It is about defending our way of life, our lands, and our right to our way of life and lands. It is about US remaining US in OUR lands.
The credit Monopoly
The western peoples, are ruled by a credit monopoly, which has chosen the facade of democracy,'freedom' and market principles; yet labels not with standing none of these states are governed in the interest of the Nation which founded them. Not a single one.
But how can this be? They are all 'democracies' and the people get to vote, freely, for several candidates of 'their choices' do they not? Well, yes in all of these nations, there is a nominal right and left (a relic of the French Revolution). I say nominal, because, both parties are under the control, of the money donors whose approval they must gain, to hold office. The Donor pays the Candidates way and the elected fellow repays with favorable legislation, rulings or enforcement. By way of this power of the purse the donors thereby secure access to public money and power over the public, by means of their puppets in the parties. These donors are none other than the domestic face of the Credit Monopoly. And the parties their rum-dummies.
The parties are paid to misrule in the interest of the international financial credit monopoly, which interests are more often than not adverse to the interests of the nation in which the nominal parties operate. Thus any party which the credit monopoly continues to support with money, does not operate to the interest of the common person; whose national interests are adverse to the international credit monopoly's interests.
Those parties the credit monopoly favor are favored by the media, and those policies they support are given serious attention, and 'sold' to the public as 'reasonable' and 'the compromises necessary to keep things going' and under a hundred other guises.
However, Any party, policy or action, promoted, supported or otherwise presented by the commons to see to its own interests outside those bounds set by the Monopoly is suppressed, both by legal and extra legal means.
Therefore elections are really a formality since no matter which party 'wins' at the poll, the credit monopoly's money wins the (s)election, therefore the credit monopoly always wins; having paid the way of ALL 'major' parties and most 'minor' ones. In fact the Money that owns the so called 'two party' simple cannot lose long term the way the matter works out in real life. There being plenty of weak and desperate persons among the masses willing to take their money.
'The People' and 'a majority of citizens' comes to mean those that pay for the parties way, and no others surly not a numerical majority of citizens. Thus we have in fact a 'vote' counted in dollar amounts or what can be called 'financial democracies'.
Through this financial democracy the Credit Monopoly have bought the freedom to write laws in their favor. Thus this monopoly, controls much more than just credit, and the volume and value of the money supply, since these same persons who make up the credit monopoly, have also employed the corporate veil, to combine their money, and dominate the general economy, media, and academia as well as the finance economy by means of the power of the purse. They are a full set, cradle to grave operation – wishing to maximize profits off of every major event in your life from birth, to death.
So we have a situation where the so called productive economy, which is really just the productive citizens, is being milked dry, against the National will, to the advantage of the small group of international traitors who collectively comprise the credit monopoly. And this situation is generalized across, all of the western nations. Some more than others and all a bit different but all the same in essence.
In Fine: The Problem we are not suppose to mention is that Cosmopolitan Credit is King over our Countries of Birth and is attempting to subjugate us in our Ancestral Lands.
This situation can only be remedied, by ensuring to the Nation the power to issue their own credit free from the internationalist Creditors and their bought pet parties control and outside their power thus beyond their authority.
My sense is that this can be done best by: banding together on the local level; forming productive enterprises; buying selling and trading at the local level with the intent to form your own local pricing mechanism; and finally banding all of this wealth and expertise together as communities into credit unions. Credit Unions are unlike a bank ran for the interests of those whose money is deposited in them, and are 100% controlled by the members. Thus one has, a productive local economy, based upon LOCALLY controlled prices, and credit that is ultimately based upon said local work and efforts, not on the say so of international financiers.
It is my feeling that such enterprises, would put the lie to to the false two party systems. It would show them to be the lapdogs for international finance, which they indeed are. And would wield together the people, into a unitary wholeness, which would be much harder for the international money monopoly to manage and maintain control over; a unified group being harder to master than single individuals. It is my feeling that trying to take this power from these united wholes would result in very large popular outbursts, which outburst could and will only end badly for the Credit Monopoly.
It is my feeling, but all of this hard work, needed to bring about these credit systems, will act as a solvent to wash away much of the destruction that the credit monopoly has unleashed on the west.
The first great washing, will come in the minds of those who create credit from wealth as they realize these bankers have lied to them the whole time. We are credit; they've simply been selling us back our own work! From this all the rest of Modernity and PC, Diversity and the rest crumbles as it is all based upon the Credit Monopoly Usurers controlling The People's Credit and thus being able to FORCE PC upon us at the end of a Loan! Reject any; reject all! Take back the one; fight back all the others!
Liberal Lies:
Here be Hypocrites!
Liberals are the ultimate hypocrites. They have a time lampooning poor whites for their supposed racism, yet the same time these caviar socialists live work and play as far from the diversity, vibrancy, and enrichment, that tolerance, diversity, and multiculturalism have brought us as they physically can place themselves.
We invite them to move themselves and their family to the poorest most diversity rich area they can find and walk the walk, while checking THEIR privilege. But, they will not as they know in their heart that this claptrap is a lie. They know that all their grandstanding about 'equality' is merely a stool from which to spit down upon others. They know it is all about them looking down the nose. They. Know.
And yet they still will lecture those who are honest about racial differences, as if they themselves do not believe in these differences. They will continue to prance about as if they are some kind of morally superior human to us poor, working, and middle class whites. They will surely miss no chance to denounce us for being leery of the minorities and their disproportionate amount of criminality, barbarism and savagery. They will continue very much to mock us from their little well to do perch about how we hate these people for taking our jobs.
All of them pretend mightily -- even fooling themselves in some cases -- that they believe these fables about equality being absolute, and every one in every place being the same. But the acts of these caviar socialists; their choices in places to live; the general society with which they surround themselves and their families; all belie the words which they mouth but which do they do not hold to their hearts. The lectures are nothing more than grandstanding, so that they can act superior to others morally.
Being called to task by us 'cracker people' for their malarkey way of acting really gets them going: Oh they hate us 'racists' for calling them out. ( Try it and see Call them out for their Faux Adherence to PC.)
And how they wish they could silence us. But wish, want and will are not the same thing. So accordingly, until what they wish matters We will simply point out that, they choose NOT to live in the rubble of the urban areas where the entire population is 'enriching' and is 100% 'vibrant' in most cases. In point of fact they will fight to live amongst us evil 'racists' whites in the suburbs and rural areas rather than live in the Urban Enriched Zones.
And what is more they do this by choice. Thus indicating a preference by this choice -- Seems the Left needs to Check its Choices! Seems they need to admit reality: Until then They are as We have already said the ultimate in weakling hypocrites. Too Timid to Tell the Truth, and too Weak to Matter if they did!
A little secret ...
- Looks around *
The Majority people of the United States of America, made the United States of America. We the living Majority People are America. Blood Draws to Blood. America is US and we are IT.
Stated Plain: Diversity is NOT a strength; 'diversity' is not our equal at building up a great nation in any way what so ever; People build places; places do not build people. This being so, Tolerating Diversity is irrational because diversity brings Poverty, Squalor, and Crime everywhere in the West it resides.
Diversity, tolerance, 'equality' are all just commie buzz words that describe NO real world items or events when used in a praiseful manner, or that are used to cover up the True Nature of this Blight upon Our People, Nation and Culture.
Diversity is the Death of the First World, Tolerance is Timidity, Mass Immigration is an on going gang rape of our People, and Multiculture is NO Culture at all! All else is PC-Liberal-Commie Fantasy.
This is the cold stark reality of the matter. It cannot be undone by social programs or 'education' or any other human effort as it is part of hard wired biological fact. The fools can lie to themselves but some kinds are not equal to others at the task of building and maintaining a FIRST WORLD CIVILIZATION.
It matters WHO we import: First World People build First World Nations ... Barbarians build NOTHING worthy of being called a 'nation'.
Accordingly if political correctness, through mass immigration replaces the Majority First World American with Barbarians and makes them a minority among alien and competing hordes of barbarian minorities, it will keep the shell, the forms of America, but all of its life, substance, vitality, and greatness will be gone.
What one will in fact have is Detroit, Camden or Gary Indiana writ large, and frankly an example of a once great people going mad and building up their own funeral pyre.
Thus, America will become, Somalia if enough of those primitive backward persons are imported into the Midwestern heartland. It will cease to be a productive breadbasket and become a Fully Dysfunctional Basket-case, there is no doubt about this. Reason?
Because, unequivocally: The People Build the Place in their own image.
Therefore: Somalians will rebuild SOMALIA not Sweden.
Simple really. No equality about it.
'Who' is the paramount question of history.
Any rational person must see that the obvious and foreseeable result of importing third world barbarians will be third world feuds, violence, savagery and over all barbarism here, not a 'richer' America but a degenerate backwards third world state, here in what once was the former USA. If one conceptualizes Northern Ireland or say 'The 40 years Wars' you are onto the truth of what this curse will be like. This is our slated future if the PC Diversity Mass Immigration Tolerance Horde get their way ...
If …
Now ...
Unless you fancy the idea of being overran by a horde of barbarians and giving up the Land Our Fathers Built, You must get your mind right and leave the Color Blind Plantation that keeps you tied to PC.
You must reject the false and embrace the True.
Say the Following:
We reject the false notion that Humans are mere economic beings. We affirm that natural human societies form from families and are thus built upon the duties and rights of the members of those families – or put differently, Society exists so that families can produce living offspring that will be 'Society' in the future.
We reject the liberal-PC-anarchist (communist) ideal of individuals with no loyalty, duty, and no higher morality than mere pleasure or material gain. We affirm that man finds his highest expression when he does his duty to those he owes loyalty to and when those in return do their duty to him. Duty and loyalty are the basis for all rights, not happiness, not material gain.
We affirm that We have a Unique Identity based upon Our Majority ruling this Land and that We value this identity, Majority and Land. We therefore reject the idea that we are just one among many that should 'share' this land, or that we have no right to Our Land and Our Majority.
Having affirmed the above:
We must Unite Behind Our Identity, Our Majority and Our History!
We must unite, behind our rightful Majority; we must reject becoming a purposeful minority in our own lands; we must rally behind our Identity proudly.
We must unite around those things we love!
We we must loudly proclaim that we object to our families, homes, communities being trampled, downgraded, and destroyed by barbarian out-landers.
We must and we shall unite around Our hearths, heritage, history!
We shall unite around our people, and our unique identity!
We shall unite behind Our hearths, our homes, our heritage, our history, our homeland.
We shall unite as One nation.
We shall unite.
We. Shall. Unite. Say. It.
We. Shall. Unite.
We shall Stop PC from Displacing Us.
We shall stop PC from destroying our identity.
We shall put an end to its aiming to subvert and harm us while degrading us in our own homelands.
We shall put an end to its attempts to divide and destroy the family, confuse the genders, as well as stop its attempts to poison our youths minds by means of indoctrination fronting as education. We shall stop cold its attempts to break down our people morally spiritually, ethically, and destroy their false system of thought, replacing it with a morally sound ethic that is in line with OUR values, and that serves Our ends.
We shall unite as One Strong Whole Majority and push aside their false 'two party' binary, as we can surely do better.
We shall do this. Us united as One majority. We affirm, Our Minimum Demands to Be:
One people in One land under One law with One way of life living by the lights of One culture! Unitary! Strong! Whole! One! United as One Nation!
2022.02.27 08:52 Quranic_Islam AronRa: Qur'an Lesson for the Infidel - Intro and Sura 64
See links to my other posts on this series at the bottom
The YouTube channel AronRa, which is an excellent channel for presenting the science side of the science vs religion conflicts, has been doing a reading through the Qur'an for almost 2 years now. I only heard about it a couple of weeks ago and got into contact as I wanted to be involved in the discussion. Aron is reading the Qur'an chronologically (according to an online list). He reads a portion, where a single sura or multiple, creates a blogpost and then discusses the sura on a livestream with a panel of volunteers because he found the Qur'an hard going and difficult to grasp and wanted people who knew the religion and the background to show him what he suspected he was missing.
The full playlist up to now is here;
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXJ4dsU0oGMJ5KT5rTLYCYQOAOU4qvIDi
Please note that he reached out to various Muslim groups and organizations because he wanted Muslims voices. They refused unless he would show reverence to the Qur'an. He also put out an invitation to any Muslims who would like to join. Some have, but generally it has been mostly exMuslims from the episodes that I have seen.
In any case I hope to join the discussion later today (27.02.2022 5pm UTC).
In preparation from that, I've decided to write my own impressions of the suras to have something to work with. Aron has been very patient in all of the episodes I have seen, but ultimately when Muslims do join the stream it descends a little too much into debates and argumentation for my liking. I would prefer to keep it more educational in terms of expressing to the audience the "Muslim view". That really means two things
So these quick write ups about each sura will just give me something to work with. They are somewhat stand alone, but I will inevitabley comment on what Aron has written regarding some point or other. I'll use the same translation he has and make any modifications in the comments.
Not sure how many suras I will be able to do for today's
v.2; "disbeliever vs believer"
One of the main sticking points, and understandably so, I've seen in the series is the issue of "disbeliever vs believer", hence why I highlighted that part of the translation. And from the get go it seems Aron thinks "disbelievers" in the Qur'an means "those who do not believe in God", ie atheists. That is of course wrong. The Qur'an simply does not deal with nor address atheism in any regular way. So when it is saying here "some of you are kaafir and some of you are mu'min" ... all people then and for the vast majority of humanity were and are believers in God.
v.2; "God sees what you DO"
One of the points I will keep coming back to is that what God cares about is actions, what you DO. Hence when in this same verse He says "among you Kafir and among you are Mu'min AND GOD SEES WHAT YOU DO" it is showing that emaana and kufr are essentially about your actions. What matters is what you DO. That is what God "sees"
v.3-4; The human is a microcosm of the universe
What interests me in these verses is the duality and symmetry. He created the Heavens and the earth "by Truth" and He created the human being in a form that He made "good" - that He knows what is in the Heavens and earth, and knows what you conceal in your mind (unseen, large Heavens) and what you reveal outwardly (on earth).
He knows the "possessors of the hearts" ... ie what things take possession of the human heart, whether in Heavens of earth
Again we must say; these "disbelievers" were in fact believers. Kaafir simply does not mean disbeliever.
And what came to these who had "kafarou" is the consequences of their own actions. It is referring to previous civilizations that were known to the Arabs. And it is absolutely true that they died out ... why should a civilization die out though? It will be as a result of their own actions, actions not revolving around truth, justice and patience to which the Qur'an is calling.
And yes, on top of their dying out as a civilization due to their actions, they will be punished for their deeds.
That could have all been averted, but when Messengers came to them calling for Taqwa of God and obedience to what is fair, true and just, their retort was that "will we let another human guide us"? So they rejected and turned away. And yes, god has no need of such a people, so He let them be
Here Aron basically says "you can't just say so, you need to provide evidence" ... but this isn't addressed to the atheist, to "disbelievers". It is addressed to believers in God who reject that they will be raised up. The Qur'an says; yes indeed! ... because God will not let injustice go without redress, your actions will not go unnoticed, all must be informed regarding what they have done ... and, if you believe in God, you must admit that that is easy for God and, more so, inevitable that God would do so. He will not raise the dead simply to raise the dead.
Again, another not too subtle hint among the numerous Qur'anic passage that tell us what God is looking at is actions ... God is fully aware of what you DO, because it is what you DO that He will judge you against
Here Aron condemns, quite rightly, the religious belief intact in all institutionalized religious sects that only "believers" are saved and can have their sins cancelled out. He says;
"Because, it turns out, merely believing is declared righteous in itself, completely apart from whatever crimes one might have committed. Criminality has naught to do with morality, it seems, according to the Qur’an. "
This idea has become very entrenched for him, and to be completely fair it is the same ridiculous idea promoted by mainstream Islam. I of course completely challenge it. The Qur'an is explicit throughout that reward and punishment are for moral and immoral acts.
In that regard and against that, your "believe" cannot help you, nor will you "disbelief" short-change you
This can be shown, as I said, explicitly throughout the Qur'an ... but the opposite idea being entrenched may make it difficult to see. Here I will content myself with mentioning just one thing that Aron will appreciate I think. He says, while commenting on the "supreme triumph" mentioned in the next sura to be discussed 61, in verse 12, which is also mentioned in this sura, v.9;
"Notice that one can only achieve “the supreme triumph” by giving up and submitting; Orwellian double-speak."
In one of the last suras to be revealed this "supreme triumpth" is promised to those whom I think Aron would be 100% happy it is promised to without any reservations, Q5:119 describes God's proclamation on Judgement Day;
This is a topic I have not looked into fully and I don't have a full grasp of myself ... that of what is called in the Qur'an "museeba" and translated here as "misfortune". But the focus of Aron is off. What is the point of these verses? To set up the objection that he makes and anyone can make?
This is an encouragement to those who believe in God to have faith, and it is a promise from Him that no matter the misfortune, no matter how great and heart-crushing it may seem, God will guide the hearts of those who have faith ... guide them to what is better of course. v.12 reinforces that even during this misfortune one should keep to the guidance brought; do not kill, steal, cheat, bear false testimony, continue to be honest, give charity, have paitence, pray, fast, meditate on God's signs and ponder, etc ... but if misfortune causes you to turn away from all of that and loose faith and say "what's the point! I do good and now this happens to me" ... if that becomes your attitude, then know that upon Our Messenger is only the deliverance of the clear message. You do what you want and respond how you choose.
These take an perspective that Aron clearly lacks to get. Enemy from your spouses and children would be those engaged in evil and who try to pull you towards it. Of course one should be wary of them. Let's say, to bring the perspective home, you come to find that your son, through external influences, has become a full on racist and who would like to see your country "cleansed" of all immigrants. Yes and extreme example, but bear with me, I'm writing on the fly. He tries to convince you and pull you in the same direction. Here you must be careful. He is now an "enemy" to you in the same way Shaytan is; he tries to seduce you to what will ultimately be your ruin. Yet also you need to show a certain amount of pardon and forgiveness and understanding in order for YOU to reach HIM ... because if you can't reach him and "bring him back", who else can?
In such a way your family and wealth can be "test" and "trial" for you ... how you respond to that, what you do, is what God is watching for and looking at. Those who can behave with wisdom, compassion, justice and integrity, will gain a great reward.
Here Aron asks "How can one be saved from their own “meanness”? It’s not like the meanie is the one needing to be saved from himself."
Yes in fact the "meanie" does need to be saved from himself. Miserliness is a chain on the soul that only those misers who have become charitable truly understand. And that is the imagery in this verse ... it literally says "whoever is saved from the greediness of his soul". Meaning those who are not bound-up and chained to the avarice of their own souls, but are able to rise above themselves and give to others or at least spend ... these are the successful. There are some who are so miserly and greedy that they are miserly and greedy even on themselves. Love of wealth and accumulating it has so taken possession of their souls that they will continue to amass until their dying days. Even if become millionaires, they are still very stingy even with themselves.
The final word here "they are the prosperous ones" includes in this world. A society where the majority are not chained to their souls' greed will be sucessful ... hence the shift in the verse from singular to plural.
Aron here comments with nothing but cynicism. Fine. But for those of some faith, what is meant by "giving God a good loan"? It relates back to the previous verse. The Qur'an encourages people to give loans to each other. Perhaps Aron is thinking of Christian churches that take donations? This isn't that. It is to give loans to others who need it for God's sake. There is no benefit in giving a loan, it is done as an act of charity, but it is easier to bear and also can be repeated once the money is returned. It also means that while people will give small amounts in charity, because it is money they "write off", they will give larger sums, that can actually make an impact, as loans
The two Divine Names employed here are ; Shakour, translated as "thankful", and Haleem "Forebearing"
They are very apt because what they are saying is you, the loan-giver, should also aim to have those qualities or keep them in mind as part of you giving a "good loan". To be forbearing is obvious; give the load, but be understanding and forbearing and patient in collecting.
But what about "shakour", well this is a very misunderstood term in the Qur'an. "Shukr" is not "gratitude" in the normal sense of being thankful. Shukr in the Qur'an means to put to their good and rightful use the blessings that you have, especially hearing, sight and mind. In this case what is to be put to good use as intended is wealth. Shukr of wealth is to use it, either spend it on yourself or others, buy things, don't leave it to be stagnant, wealth is meant to be spent ... and one great way of continuously spending and putting to good use a certain amount of money is to give it out in loans.
If you have 20'000 dollars and you loan it to someone so they can start a business, then 3 years later they have paid you back, then you can once again lend that 20'000 to someone else.
That is a "good loan". The reward for doing so is multiplied with God. For even that person whom you lent to and who did something with that money, he/she will go on to benefit others by employing them or spending on them.
2nd post;
AronRa: Qur'an Lesson for the Infidel - Sura 61
3rd post;
AronRa: Qur'an Lesson for the Infidel - Sura 62 (Al Jum'ah)
4th post;
AronRa: Qur'an Lesson for the Infidel - Sura 48 The Opening
5th post;
AronRa: Qur'an Lesson for the Infidel - Sura 5
submitted by Quranic_Islam to Quraniyoon [link] [comments]
See links to my other posts on this series at the bottom
The YouTube channel AronRa, which is an excellent channel for presenting the science side of the science vs religion conflicts, has been doing a reading through the Qur'an for almost 2 years now. I only heard about it a couple of weeks ago and got into contact as I wanted to be involved in the discussion. Aron is reading the Qur'an chronologically (according to an online list). He reads a portion, where a single sura or multiple, creates a blogpost and then discusses the sura on a livestream with a panel of volunteers because he found the Qur'an hard going and difficult to grasp and wanted people who knew the religion and the background to show him what he suspected he was missing.
The full playlist up to now is here;
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXJ4dsU0oGMJ5KT5rTLYCYQOAOU4qvIDi
Please note that he reached out to various Muslim groups and organizations because he wanted Muslims voices. They refused unless he would show reverence to the Qur'an. He also put out an invitation to any Muslims who would like to join. Some have, but generally it has been mostly exMuslims from the episodes that I have seen.
In any case I hope to join the discussion later today (27.02.2022 5pm UTC).
In preparation from that, I've decided to write my own impressions of the suras to have something to work with. Aron has been very patient in all of the episodes I have seen, but ultimately when Muslims do join the stream it descends a little too much into debates and argumentation for my liking. I would prefer to keep it more educational in terms of expressing to the audience the "Muslim view". That really means two things
- trying to get across the majority orthodox view
- what I personally see the Qur'an as saying
So these quick write ups about each sura will just give me something to work with. They are somewhat stand alone, but I will inevitabley comment on what Aron has written regarding some point or other. I'll use the same translation he has and make any modifications in the comments.
Not sure how many suras I will be able to do for today's
Sura 64: alTaghabun
https://reasonadvocates.medium.com/an-infidel-reads-suras-64-61-62-48-58c53d1df61a1Everything that is in the heavens and earth glorifies God; all control and all praise belong to Him; He has power over everything. 2It is He who created you, yet some of you DISBELIEVER and some BELIEVER*: God sees everything you do. 3He created the heavens and earth for a true purpose; He formed you and made your forms good: you will all return to Him. 4He knows what is in the heavens and earth; He knows what you conceal and what you reveal; God knows very well the secrets of every heart.*
v.2; "disbeliever vs believer"
One of the main sticking points, and understandably so, I've seen in the series is the issue of "disbeliever vs believer", hence why I highlighted that part of the translation. And from the get go it seems Aron thinks "disbelievers" in the Qur'an means "those who do not believe in God", ie atheists. That is of course wrong. The Qur'an simply does not deal with nor address atheism in any regular way. So when it is saying here "some of you are kaafir and some of you are mu'min" ... all people then and for the vast majority of humanity were and are believers in God.
v.2; "God sees what you DO"
One of the points I will keep coming back to is that what God cares about is actions, what you DO. Hence when in this same verse He says "among you Kafir and among you are Mu'min AND GOD SEES WHAT YOU DO" it is showing that emaana and kufr are essentially about your actions. What matters is what you DO. That is what God "sees"
v.3-4; The human is a microcosm of the universe
What interests me in these verses is the duality and symmetry. He created the Heavens and the earth "by Truth" and He created the human being in a form that He made "good" - that He knows what is in the Heavens and earth, and knows what you conceal in your mind (unseen, large Heavens) and what you reveal outwardly (on earth).
He knows the "possessors of the hearts" ... ie what things take possession of the human heart, whether in Heavens of earth
5[Disbelievers], have you not heard about those who disbelieved before you? They tasted the evil consequences of their conduct, and a painful torment awaits them. 6That is because their messengers came to them with clear signs, yet they said, ‘Should we take guidance from mere mortals?’, rejected the message, and turned away. But God had no need for them: He is all sufficient, worthy of all praise.v.5-6
Again we must say; these "disbelievers" were in fact believers. Kaafir simply does not mean disbeliever.
And what came to these who had "kafarou" is the consequences of their own actions. It is referring to previous civilizations that were known to the Arabs. And it is absolutely true that they died out ... why should a civilization die out though? It will be as a result of their own actions, actions not revolving around truth, justice and patience to which the Qur'an is calling.
And yes, on top of their dying out as a civilization due to their actions, they will be punished for their deeds.
That could have all been averted, but when Messengers came to them calling for Taqwa of God and obedience to what is fair, true and just, their retort was that "will we let another human guide us"? So they rejected and turned away. And yes, god has no need of such a people, so He let them be
7The disbelievers claim they will not be raised from the dead. Say [Prophet], ‘Yes indeed! I swear by my Lord! You will be raised and then you will be informed about everything you have done: an easy matter for God.’v.7; not for "disbelievers"
Here Aron basically says "you can't just say so, you need to provide evidence" ... but this isn't addressed to the atheist, to "disbelievers". It is addressed to believers in God who reject that they will be raised up. The Qur'an says; yes indeed! ... because God will not let injustice go without redress, your actions will not go unnoticed, all must be informed regarding what they have done ... and, if you believe in God, you must admit that that is easy for God and, more so, inevitable that God would do so. He will not raise the dead simply to raise the dead.
8So believe in God, in His Messenger, and in the light We have sent down: God is fully aware of what you do.v.8 - actions
Again, another not too subtle hint among the numerous Qur'anic passage that tell us what God is looking at is actions ... God is fully aware of what you DO, because it is what you DO that He will judge you against
9When He gathers you for the Day of Gathering, the Day of mutual neglect, He will cancel the sins of those who believed in Him and acted righteously: He will admit them into Gardens graced with flowing streams, there to remain for ever– the supreme triumph. 10But those who disbelieved and rejected Our signs will be the inhabitants of the Fire, there to remain– a miserable destination.v.9-10
Here Aron condemns, quite rightly, the religious belief intact in all institutionalized religious sects that only "believers" are saved and can have their sins cancelled out. He says;
"Because, it turns out, merely believing is declared righteous in itself, completely apart from whatever crimes one might have committed. Criminality has naught to do with morality, it seems, according to the Qur’an. "
This idea has become very entrenched for him, and to be completely fair it is the same ridiculous idea promoted by mainstream Islam. I of course completely challenge it. The Qur'an is explicit throughout that reward and punishment are for moral and immoral acts.
In that regard and against that, your "believe" cannot help you, nor will you "disbelief" short-change you
This can be shown, as I said, explicitly throughout the Qur'an ... but the opposite idea being entrenched may make it difficult to see. Here I will content myself with mentioning just one thing that Aron will appreciate I think. He says, while commenting on the "supreme triumph" mentioned in the next sura to be discussed 61, in verse 12, which is also mentioned in this sura, v.9;
"Notice that one can only achieve “the supreme triumph” by giving up and submitting; Orwellian double-speak."
In one of the last suras to be revealed this "supreme triumpth" is promised to those whom I think Aron would be 100% happy it is promised to without any reservations, Q5:119 describes God's proclamation on Judgement Day;
And God will say; "This is a Day in which the honesty of the truthful shall truly benefit them" For them are gardens [in Paradise] beneath which rivers flow, wherein they will abide forever, God being well-pleased with them, and they with Him. That is the supreme triumphSo no, there are many ways to achieve this ... and here is one of the best. e honest, be truthful. Say only what you believe is true. Never be duplicitous
11Misfortunes can only happen with God’s permission — He will guide the heart of anyone who believes in Him: God knows all things — 12so obey God and the Messenger. If you turn away, remember that Our Messenger’s duty is only to make plain his message.v.11-12
This is a topic I have not looked into fully and I don't have a full grasp of myself ... that of what is called in the Qur'an "museeba" and translated here as "misfortune". But the focus of Aron is off. What is the point of these verses? To set up the objection that he makes and anyone can make?
This is an encouragement to those who believe in God to have faith, and it is a promise from Him that no matter the misfortune, no matter how great and heart-crushing it may seem, God will guide the hearts of those who have faith ... guide them to what is better of course. v.12 reinforces that even during this misfortune one should keep to the guidance brought; do not kill, steal, cheat, bear false testimony, continue to be honest, give charity, have paitence, pray, fast, meditate on God's signs and ponder, etc ... but if misfortune causes you to turn away from all of that and loose faith and say "what's the point! I do good and now this happens to me" ... if that becomes your attitude, then know that upon Our Messenger is only the deliverance of the clear message. You do what you want and respond how you choose.
13God! There is no god but Him, so let the faithful put their trust in Him.v.13 - simply continuing from the last verse and the perspective they provide; it times of misfortune let the faithful show some reliance on God, on the Greater Good ... if they can't, then what kind of wafer thin faith is that?
14Believers, even among your spouses and your children you have some enemies– beware of them– but if you overlook their offences, forgive them, pardon them, then God is all forgiving, all merciful. 15Your wealth and your children are only a test for you. There is great reward with God:v.14-15
These take an perspective that Aron clearly lacks to get. Enemy from your spouses and children would be those engaged in evil and who try to pull you towards it. Of course one should be wary of them. Let's say, to bring the perspective home, you come to find that your son, through external influences, has become a full on racist and who would like to see your country "cleansed" of all immigrants. Yes and extreme example, but bear with me, I'm writing on the fly. He tries to convince you and pull you in the same direction. Here you must be careful. He is now an "enemy" to you in the same way Shaytan is; he tries to seduce you to what will ultimately be your ruin. Yet also you need to show a certain amount of pardon and forgiveness and understanding in order for YOU to reach HIM ... because if you can't reach him and "bring him back", who else can?
In such a way your family and wealth can be "test" and "trial" for you ... how you respond to that, what you do, is what God is watching for and looking at. Those who can behave with wisdom, compassion, justice and integrity, will gain a great reward.
16be mindful of God as much as you can; hear and obey; be charitable– it is for your own good. Those who are saved from their own meanness will be the prosperous ones:v.16
Here Aron asks "How can one be saved from their own “meanness”? It’s not like the meanie is the one needing to be saved from himself."
Yes in fact the "meanie" does need to be saved from himself. Miserliness is a chain on the soul that only those misers who have become charitable truly understand. And that is the imagery in this verse ... it literally says "whoever is saved from the greediness of his soul". Meaning those who are not bound-up and chained to the avarice of their own souls, but are able to rise above themselves and give to others or at least spend ... these are the successful. There are some who are so miserly and greedy that they are miserly and greedy even on themselves. Love of wealth and accumulating it has so taken possession of their souls that they will continue to amass until their dying days. Even if become millionaires, they are still very stingy even with themselves.
The final word here "they are the prosperous ones" includes in this world. A society where the majority are not chained to their souls' greed will be sucessful ... hence the shift in the verse from singular to plural.
17if you make a generous loan to God He will multiply it for you and forgive you. God is ever thankful and forbearing; 18He knows the unseen, as well as the seen; He is the Almighty, the Wise.v.17
Aron here comments with nothing but cynicism. Fine. But for those of some faith, what is meant by "giving God a good loan"? It relates back to the previous verse. The Qur'an encourages people to give loans to each other. Perhaps Aron is thinking of Christian churches that take donations? This isn't that. It is to give loans to others who need it for God's sake. There is no benefit in giving a loan, it is done as an act of charity, but it is easier to bear and also can be repeated once the money is returned. It also means that while people will give small amounts in charity, because it is money they "write off", they will give larger sums, that can actually make an impact, as loans
The two Divine Names employed here are ; Shakour, translated as "thankful", and Haleem "Forebearing"
They are very apt because what they are saying is you, the loan-giver, should also aim to have those qualities or keep them in mind as part of you giving a "good loan". To be forbearing is obvious; give the load, but be understanding and forbearing and patient in collecting.
But what about "shakour", well this is a very misunderstood term in the Qur'an. "Shukr" is not "gratitude" in the normal sense of being thankful. Shukr in the Qur'an means to put to their good and rightful use the blessings that you have, especially hearing, sight and mind. In this case what is to be put to good use as intended is wealth. Shukr of wealth is to use it, either spend it on yourself or others, buy things, don't leave it to be stagnant, wealth is meant to be spent ... and one great way of continuously spending and putting to good use a certain amount of money is to give it out in loans.
If you have 20'000 dollars and you loan it to someone so they can start a business, then 3 years later they have paid you back, then you can once again lend that 20'000 to someone else.
That is a "good loan". The reward for doing so is multiplied with God. For even that person whom you lent to and who did something with that money, he/she will go on to benefit others by employing them or spending on them.
END
This ended up being longer than I wanted. I don't think I will have time to do the other suras (61, 62 & 48) before the stream in which they will be discussed. If I do, I will include a link here in an edit. If not, then I will link for the next set of suras.2nd post;
AronRa: Qur'an Lesson for the Infidel - Sura 61
3rd post;
AronRa: Qur'an Lesson for the Infidel - Sura 62 (Al Jum'ah)
4th post;
AronRa: Qur'an Lesson for the Infidel - Sura 48 The Opening
5th post;
AronRa: Qur'an Lesson for the Infidel - Sura 5
2022.02.14 15:47 TheDudeProf [Letter]10 Reasons VACCINE PASSPORTS are EVIL and YOU are EVIL if you use them. https://mortalcoil.substack.com/p/10-reasons-vaccine-passports-are
Euripides, Hecuba (translation E.P. Coleridge)
TALTHYBIUS
Lady, thou art bent on making mine a double meed of tears in pity for thy child; for now too as I tell the sad tale a tear will wet my eye, as it did at the tomb when she was dying.
All Achaea's host was gathered there in full array before the tomb to see thy daughter offered; and the son of Achilles took Polyxena by the hand and set her on the top of the mound, while I stood near; and a chosen band of young Achaeans followed to hold thy child and prevent her struggling. Then did Achilles' son take in his hands a brimming cup of gold and poured an offering to his dead sire, making a sign to me to proclaim silence throughout the Achaean host. So I stood at his side and in their midst proclaimed, "Silence, ye Achaeans! hushed be the people all! peace! be still! "Therewith I hushed the host. Then spake he, "Son of Peleus, father mine, accept the offering I pour thee to appease thy spirit, strong to raise the dead; and come to drink the black blood of a virgin pure, which I and the host are offering thee; oh! be propitious to us; grant that we may loose our prows and the cables of our ships, and, meeting with prosperous voyage from Ilium, all to our country come." So he; and all the army echoed his prayer. Then seizing his golden sword by the hilt he drew it from its scabbard, signing the while to the picked young Argive warriors to hold the maid. But she, when she was ware thereof, uttered her voice and said: "O Argives, who have sacked my city! of my free will I die; let none lay hand on me; for bravely will I yield my neck. Leave me free, I do beseech; so slay me, that death may find me free; for to be called a slave amongst the dead fills my royal heart with shame." Thereat the people shouted their applause, and king Agamemnon bade the young men loose the maid. So they set her free, as soon as they heard this last command from him whose might was over all. And she, hearing her captors' words took her robe and tore it open from the shoulder to the waist, displaying a breast and bosom fair as a statue's; then sinking on her knee, one word she spake more piteous than all the rest, "Young prince, if 'tis my breast thou'dst strike, lo! here it is, strike home! or if at my neck thy sword thou'lt aim, behold! that neck is bared."
Then he, half glad, half sorry in his pity for the maid, cleft with the steel the channels of her breath, and streams of blood gushed forth; but she, e'en in death's agony, took good heed to fall with maiden grace, hiding from gaze of man what modest maiden must. Soon as she had breathed her last through the fatal gash, each Argive set his hand to different tasks, some strewing leaves o'er the corpse in handfuls, others bringing pine-logs and heaping up a pyre; and he, who brought nothing, would hear from him who did such taunts as these, "Stand'st thou still, ignoble wretch, with never a robe or ornament to bring for the maiden? Wilt thou give naught to her that showed such peerless bravery and spirit?"
Euripides’ Hecuba is about many things: social and familial disintegration during times of war and crisis; catastrophic religious ritual; cascading moral and ethical failure; noble revenge. If you have not read this tragedy, then read it. It is one of the cures for COVID.
Among these various themes is a central idea: in the face of collective evil—in the collective absence of morality and ethics—in which a community actively participates in wrongs (in this case the human sacrifice of Polyxena) nobility and virtue become acts of overt resistance. Polyxena must succumb to this inverted moral order, but as a consequence she emphatically highlights how a proper moral and ethical society ought to behave. Her sacrifice is a rejection of the evil of a corrupted social condition.
In our current moment politicians and a vast swath of the population, who have been demoralized by unethical abuses of nudging, are actively promoting and employing vaccine passports. As I have written elsewhere this system of discrimination and medical apartheid is a form of Evil. They are complicit in the Banality of Evil.
To quote Hannah Arendt:
For when I speak of the banality of Evil, I do so only on the strictly factual level, pointing to a phenomenon which stared one in the face at the trial. Eichmann was not Iago and not Macbeth, and nothing would have been farther from his mind than to determine with Richard III 'to prove a villain.' Except for an extraordinary diligence in looking out for his personal advancement, he had no motives at all… He merely, to put the matter colloquially, never realized what he was doing… It was sheer thoughtlessness—something by no means identical with stupidity—that predisposed him to become one of the greatest criminals of that period.
Remember, there are degrees of Evil. Arendt was gesturing to only one of the most marked degrees, but to all of our detriment our governments have drawn a through line from the current human rights violations to the horrible atrocities of our past.
We must call out Evil when we see it, and vaccine passports are Evil.
Those who advocate for them are Evil.
Those who ask to see them are Evil.
Those who use them are Evil.
I am not being hyperbolic; individuals who cannot see or do not see the moral and ethical hazard of VACCINE PASSPORTS are profoundly dangerous. That they are blind to this hazard suggests that in other facets of their life they have no underlying or foundational moral or ethical beliefs.
That they have uncritically adopted the Gesundheitpass, not understanding or knowing its origins, is an emphatic indictment of their complicity in the establishment of an immoral STATE.
Just because you collectively participate in EVIL, that does not absolve you or suddenly make your immoral actions right or good. It only means that your demoralization due to fear and hysteria is complete.
You are no longer a person.
You have been weaponized by an unjust and harmful STATE.
It is easy to commit wrong when you are celebrated and supported when you commit it.
A few words on EVIL
The Wiktionary
Evil: from Middle English yvel, evel, ivel, uvel, from Old English yfel, from Proto-West Germanic *ubil, from Proto-Germanic *ubilaz (compare Saterland Frisian eeuwel, Dutch euvel, Low German övel, German übel), from Proto-Indo-European *h₂upélos (compare Old Irish fel (“bad, evil”), from Proto-Celtic *uɸelos), diminutive of *h₂wep(h₁)-, *h₂wap- (“treat badly”) (compare Hittite 𒄷𒉿𒀊𒍣 (huwapp-i, “to mistreat, harass”), 𒄷𒉿𒀊𒉺𒀸 (huwappa-, “evil, badness”)),[3] or alternatively from *upélos (“evil”, literally “going over or beyond (acceptable limits)”), from Proto-Indo-European *upo, *h₃ewp- (“down, up, over”).
Online Etymological Dictionary
Old English yfel (Kentish evel) "bad, vicious, ill, wicked," from Proto-Germanic *ubilaz (source also of Old Saxon ubil, Old Frisian and Middle Dutch evel, Dutch euvel, Old High German ubil, German übel, Gothic ubils), from PIE *upelo-, from root *wap- "bad, evil" (source also of Hittite huwapp- "evil").
In Old English and other older Germanic languages other than Scandinavian, "this word is the most comprehensive adjectival expression of disapproval, dislike or disparagement" [OED]. Evil was the word the Anglo-Saxons used where we would use bad, cruel, unskillful, defective (adj.), or harm (n.), crime, misfortune, disease (n.). In Middle English, bad took the wider range of senses and evil began to focus on moral badness. Both words have good as their opposite. Evil-favored (1520s) meant "ugly." Evilchild is attested as an English surname from 13c.
The adverb is Old English yfele, originally of words or speech. Also as a noun in Old English, "what is bad; sin, wickedness; anything that causes injury, morally or physically." Especially of a malady or disease from c. 1200. The meaning "extreme moral wickedness" was one of the senses of the Old English noun, but it did not become established as the main sense of the modern word until 18c.
As a noun, Middle English also had evilty. Related: Evilly. Evil eye (Latin oculus malus) was Old English eage yfel. The jocular notion of an evil twin as an excuse for regrettable deeds is by 1986, American English, from an old motif in mythology.
evil (n.)
"anything that causes injury, anything that harms or is likely to harm; a malady or disease; conduct contrary to standards of morals or righteousness," Old English yfel.
Oxford English Dictionary
Forms: Old English–Middle English yfel (in inflexions yf(e)l-), (Middle English ifel, Middle English efel, yfell, Middle English ywel(l, Middle English ufel, Middle English uvel(e, Middle English ivel, (Middle English ȝevel, Middle English ivil), Middle English–1500s evel(l(e, (Middle English ewelle, hevelle, 1500s ewil, yell), Middle English–1500s evill(e, -yl(l(e, yvel(l(e, (1500s yevill), Middle English– evil.(Show Less)
Frequency (in current use): Show frequency band information
Etymology: Middle English uvel (ü), Old English yfel = Old Saxon uƀil, Old Frisian, Middle Dutch evel (Dutch euvel), Old High German ubil, upil (German übel), Gothic ubils < Old Germanic *uƀilo-z; usually referred to the root of up, over; on this view the primary sense would be either ‘exceeding due measure’ or ‘overstepping proper limits’.
The form evel , whence the modern form descends, appears in Middle English first as west midland and Kentish, but in 15th cent. had become general. The conditions under which early Middle English/i/ or /y/ became /eː/, the antecedent of modern English /iː/, are not clearly determined; the present word and weevil seem to be the only examples in which this change was other than local; obsolete and dialect instances are yeve = ‘give’, leve = ‘live’, easle n. (Other apparent examples are due to Old English forms with eo, resulting < u- or o- umlaut.)
A. adj. The antithesis of good adj., n., adv., and int. in all its principal senses.
In Old English, as in all the other early Germanic languages except Scandinavian, this word is the most comprehensive adjectival expression of disapproval, dislike, or disparagement. In mod. colloquial English it is little used, such currency as it has being due to literary influence. In quite familiar speech the adj. is commonly superseded by bad; the n. is somewhat more frequent, but chiefly in the widest senses, the more specific senses being expressed by other words, as harm, injury, misfortune, disease, etc.
†6. A calamity, disaster, misfortune. Obsolete.
†a. gen. A disease, malady. Obsolete.
b. the Aleppo evil: ‘a disease, which first appears under the form of an eruption on the skin, and afterwards forms into a sort of boil’ ( Penny Cycl. XII. 12/2). †the foul evil: the pox. †the falling evil: = ‘the falling sickness’, epilepsy.
Evil in Aggregate
Note that our current social condition is Evil incarnate. The broad range of definitions for Evil above highlight this.
Covid as a disease is Evil.
The outcomes of Covid policy as a mitigation strategy are Evil.
Individual’s thoughts and behaviours are Evil: Among voters who have a Very Favorable impression of Biden, 51% are in favor of government putting the unvaccinated in “designated facilities,” and 54% favor imposing fines or prison sentences on vaccine critics. REREAD THAT.
At its core Evil is the “overstepping of proper limits.” We have witnessed governments, businesses, schools, pharmaceutical companies, teachers, doctors, “experts,” politicians, employers, employees, friends, neighbours, family members…almost every single entity, institution, and person has actively overstepped what is proper in the face of the Evil of COVID.
But you do not negate one Evil by employing a slew of other Evils.
The COVID Lockdown Policy and the rhetoric around Lockdown and Vaccination were and continue to be EVIL. There is no debate on this. We have ushered in a profound and cascading reverberation of Evil throughout almost every aspect of our society and culture. We employed Evil in an attempt to stop Evil.
We are on the verge of the complete and total collapse of social and civic unions in places like Canada, Austria, Australia, New Zealand, Germany, Italy, Greece, California, and Quebec (to name the most obvious). The reasons are clear: people who lack wisdom and intelligence are making policy decisions that are Evil. And a very ignorant population in each of these countries have become so demoralized that they are willing to participate in Evil, so long as they can “get back to Normal,” or what we call the “New Normal.”
The trick: Call Evil “Good” or “Virtuous” or “Proper Behaviour.” Just rebrand Evil. That is all it takes. We call that “Nudging.”
In the current global milieu this is not a fight between Good and Evil, it is a fight between different kinds of Evil and different intensifications of Evil.
There is no Good. “Good” has been nudged and rebranded out of existence.
10 Reasons Vaccine Passports are EVIL and those who use them are EVIL too.
Vaccine Passports create a society that is based on medical apartheid, discrimination, segregation, and division. Past societies that employed similar social policies have always been deemed to be Evil. The current state of things does not alter the moral template of our interpretation of the past or the present. One needs to bar 100s if not 1000s of people from entry to a particular location in order to stop one statistically significant outbreak of COVID (remember, only COVID matters. Nothing else). The social and individual harm due to active occlusion from civil society without any real health benefit is a form of social contagion and is Evil. Vaccine Passports push unscientific claims as to the efficacy and purpose of vaccines. That the government “nudges” such claims is an assault on the rational mind and a form of Evil. The vaccines neither stop transmission nor preclude infection. Vaxxkarens are just as likely to transmit COVID and become infected as the Informed Consent Crowd. Regardless of Vaccine status everyone will get COVID (I have had it twice, it was less severe than a minor cold). Risk from COVID is age and comorbidity stratified. Vaccine Passports suggest that the vaccinated are without risk while the unvaccinated are at risk and catalyze risk to others. This is LowIQ risk analysis. Vaccine Passports obfuscate proper risk analysis, and thereby induce fear in people who simply have an incredibly low risk from COVID. Check your risk here and situate it within other risks here. My risk of contracting and dying of COVID (unvaxxed) places me somewhere between being mauled to death by dogs and being electrocuted to death by lightning. If I were vaccinated my risk does NOT change in any meaningful way: still between dogs and lightning. If you are vaccinated and believe in their efficacy then why are you participating in a system of social occlusion? Your participation in this incoherent, irrational, and harmful system is Evil. Vaccine Passports teach children that it is OK to discriminate against people. This is a cultural and social Evil that will have generational impacts and consequences. We should be ashamed of ourselves. Vaccine Passports have been part and parcel of political mechanisms to marginalize and other citizens. Political leaders have stated outright that Vaccine Passports have no real medical value, but are designed to coerce people into vaccination by limiting their constitutional and human rights. Leaders have done this in spite of scientific evidence that suggests vaccine passports actually DE-INCENTIVIZE vaccination. I will not entertain the idea of vaccination in a polity that employs a vaccine passport, and even if I had been vaccinated, I would NOT have downloaded a QR code and used it. I will not actively participate in a system that is based on discrimination. If you participate in Evil, you are Evil. Vaccine Passports violate Informed Consent. It is illegal and a violation of human rights for medical practitioners, government officials, and businesses to employ coercion in order to compel an individual into informed consent. Canada is clear that informed consent must be obtained before any vaccination is given. Informed Consent has an ancient and long history, and at its core are the following conditions: A patient's informed consent requires adequate information, capacity to decide, and absence of coercion. Informed consent is incorporated into a process of agreement between a patient and a physician called "shared decision making." Under normal conditions informed consent is an agreement between the physician and their patient. Governments, businesses, and other institutions had little to no role to play in this private deliberation between a doctor and patient. With the creation of the Biomedical STATE in which governments, businesses, commercial zones, media, schools, and domestic spaces have become medicalized, informed consent has now been expanded beyond the private deliberations of a doctor and patient to include nearly all social and political institutions. To that end any form of punitive measures to compel vaccination by institutions—in this case, Vaccine Passports—is a violation of informed consent. It is impossible for an individual to consent to a medical treatment under these conditions. Violations of Informed Consent is a species of Evil. Vaccine Passports are being employed as a Trojan Horse in order to hasten the development and employment of Digital Identifications. There has been no public policy debate as to the ethical and moral implications of Digital Identification, and its obvious slippery slope into a Social Credit System. The DAICC or the Digital ID and Authentication Council of Canada has stated explicitly that “COVID has accelerated Canadians’ demand for digital ID.” How does an organization that is actively working to implement a Digital ID come to this conclusion of mass Canadian support for a Digital ID? It does it through a survey that manipulated the respondents’ answers. The methodology of the survey is laughable. Note that a restructuring of the entirety of Canadian society and the very idea of privacy itself are based on a survey of a 1000 people, haphazardly and irrationally chosen. A vaccine passport system creates the necessary infrastructure to implement a Digital ID system. The Vaccine Passport is ALREADY being used as a variation on a Social Credit System. Social Credit systems are Evil. While there may be a utility to Digital IDs, there must be a robust, public, and thoughtful conversation about their application. Instead, the Vaccine Passport has allowed for governments to push through Digital IDs without any democratic oversight. Thales Digital Identity and Security has said emphatically that Vaccine Passports are precursors to Digital ID Wallets, “offering citizens unparalleled convenience and security.” Frankly, governmental institutions and Digital Identification companies have little to no credibility due to the total and complete failure of governmental COVID policy and the employment of divisive technologies in the form of Vaccine Passports. That COVID is being used surreptitiously by unethical individuals to create an administrative super-state that already is applying the ethos of a social credit system to citizens in Canada and elsewhere is…wait for it…Evil. The othering and marginalization of the pro-informed consent crowd by means of vaccine passports has resulted in diminished discourse and discussion on topics that ought to have as broad a selection of voices and viewpoints as possible. People who see the moral and ethical harm of vaccine passports are being occluded from spaces by those who employ them, when those very people who employ them ought to hear and listen to why individuals might think vaccine passports are wrong. This occlusion of a free discourse of ideas in a free society results in further division and lack of empathy. The silencing of view point diversity—especially points of view on social and cultural morals and ethics—is a species of Evil. Generally, we see such totalitarian systems activated in societies that have inclined towards moral and ethical absolutism and despotism. Historically speaking we understand that these societies were Evil. Yet, we are currently turning a blind eye to the Evil taking place in front of us. Vaccine Passports are a violation of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Values. Read it for yourself. You do not need a lawyer, or judge, or human rights council to tell you how to interpret this very clear and concise document. It was written in a way so that EVERYONE can know their rights and freedoms. Currently, legal charges are being filed against the Vaccine Passports because they violate the Canadian Charter of Rights and Values. Vaccine Passports violate the fundamental rights and freedoms of every Canadian. This violation of foundational human rights is Evil. The active participation in the Vaccine Passport is Evil. Hannah Arendt states the following in a letter to Gerhard Scholem: You are quite right, I changed my mind and do no longer speak of “radical evil.” … It is indeed my opinion now that evil is never “radical,” that it is only extreme, and that it possesses neither depth nor any demonic dimension. It can overgrow and lay waste the whole world precisely because it spreads like a fungus on the surface. It is “thought-defying,” as I said, because thought tries to reach some depth, to go to the roots, and the moment it concerns itself with evil, it is frustrated because there is nothing. That is its “banality.” Only the good has depth that can be radical. It is the commonplace participation in mundane and banal evil that rots and contaminates society. Each and every time you use your Vaccine Passport or every time you ask to see another’s Vaccine Passport, you are simply lessening your moral and ethical state of being, until all you have become is an empty shell of a morally defunct vessel of Evil. Vaccine Passports have so harmed the social fabric of society that the STATES which employ it have lost all moral and ethical credibility. This loss of moral and ethical credibility may have catastrophic outcomes on society. We will witness a series of other harms that all follow upon Vaccine Passports (we already are). Individuals will become even more complicit in these future harms. A free and peaceful society is a fragile thing. It is not something that ought to be assumed as a norm. In fact, a free and peaceful society is the exception that proves the rule. The adoption of Vaccine Passports is the end of a free and peaceful society. It is the first step to that other form of society which by and large has made up the history of humanity. There is always a reckoning for those who are complicit in the Evil. Evil breeds Evil breeds Evil.
Vaccine Passports are EVIL and those who use them are EVIL too.
They are complicit
They are complicit in medical apartheid.
They are complicit in discrimination.
They are complicit in the violation of constitutional rights.
They are complicit in the demonization of those who disagree with them.
They are complicit in promoting the moral and ethical hazards of the biomedical STATE.
They are complicit in adopting an incoherent narrative based on fear and hysteria.
They are complicit in elevating leaders and “experts” who lacked the wisdom and enlightenment to lead humanity through this moment of crisis.
They are complicit in the massive rise in rape, incest, sexual violence, domestic abuse, alcohol and drug abuse, obesity, educational deprivation, poverty, homelessness, and child abuse, not to mention the total rending of the social fabric caused by Lockdown Policy.
Stop being complicit.
Stop being Evil.
Apologize.
Mandatory Listening (https://youtu.be/77ZLGBec9gI).
Most people do not understand or care about medical ethics. Take some time and listen to a conversation that filters the current COVID narrative through the lens of Medical Ethics. A virus does not negate moral and ethical behaviour
submitted by TheDudeProf to JordanPeterson [link] [comments]
TALTHYBIUS
Lady, thou art bent on making mine a double meed of tears in pity for thy child; for now too as I tell the sad tale a tear will wet my eye, as it did at the tomb when she was dying.
All Achaea's host was gathered there in full array before the tomb to see thy daughter offered; and the son of Achilles took Polyxena by the hand and set her on the top of the mound, while I stood near; and a chosen band of young Achaeans followed to hold thy child and prevent her struggling. Then did Achilles' son take in his hands a brimming cup of gold and poured an offering to his dead sire, making a sign to me to proclaim silence throughout the Achaean host. So I stood at his side and in their midst proclaimed, "Silence, ye Achaeans! hushed be the people all! peace! be still! "Therewith I hushed the host. Then spake he, "Son of Peleus, father mine, accept the offering I pour thee to appease thy spirit, strong to raise the dead; and come to drink the black blood of a virgin pure, which I and the host are offering thee; oh! be propitious to us; grant that we may loose our prows and the cables of our ships, and, meeting with prosperous voyage from Ilium, all to our country come." So he; and all the army echoed his prayer. Then seizing his golden sword by the hilt he drew it from its scabbard, signing the while to the picked young Argive warriors to hold the maid. But she, when she was ware thereof, uttered her voice and said: "O Argives, who have sacked my city! of my free will I die; let none lay hand on me; for bravely will I yield my neck. Leave me free, I do beseech; so slay me, that death may find me free; for to be called a slave amongst the dead fills my royal heart with shame." Thereat the people shouted their applause, and king Agamemnon bade the young men loose the maid. So they set her free, as soon as they heard this last command from him whose might was over all. And she, hearing her captors' words took her robe and tore it open from the shoulder to the waist, displaying a breast and bosom fair as a statue's; then sinking on her knee, one word she spake more piteous than all the rest, "Young prince, if 'tis my breast thou'dst strike, lo! here it is, strike home! or if at my neck thy sword thou'lt aim, behold! that neck is bared."
Then he, half glad, half sorry in his pity for the maid, cleft with the steel the channels of her breath, and streams of blood gushed forth; but she, e'en in death's agony, took good heed to fall with maiden grace, hiding from gaze of man what modest maiden must. Soon as she had breathed her last through the fatal gash, each Argive set his hand to different tasks, some strewing leaves o'er the corpse in handfuls, others bringing pine-logs and heaping up a pyre; and he, who brought nothing, would hear from him who did such taunts as these, "Stand'st thou still, ignoble wretch, with never a robe or ornament to bring for the maiden? Wilt thou give naught to her that showed such peerless bravery and spirit?"
Among these various themes is a central idea: in the face of collective evil—in the collective absence of morality and ethics—in which a community actively participates in wrongs (in this case the human sacrifice of Polyxena) nobility and virtue become acts of overt resistance. Polyxena must succumb to this inverted moral order, but as a consequence she emphatically highlights how a proper moral and ethical society ought to behave. Her sacrifice is a rejection of the evil of a corrupted social condition.
In our current moment politicians and a vast swath of the population, who have been demoralized by unethical abuses of nudging, are actively promoting and employing vaccine passports. As I have written elsewhere this system of discrimination and medical apartheid is a form of Evil. They are complicit in the Banality of Evil.
To quote Hannah Arendt:
For when I speak of the banality of Evil, I do so only on the strictly factual level, pointing to a phenomenon which stared one in the face at the trial. Eichmann was not Iago and not Macbeth, and nothing would have been farther from his mind than to determine with Richard III 'to prove a villain.' Except for an extraordinary diligence in looking out for his personal advancement, he had no motives at all… He merely, to put the matter colloquially, never realized what he was doing… It was sheer thoughtlessness—something by no means identical with stupidity—that predisposed him to become one of the greatest criminals of that period.
Remember, there are degrees of Evil. Arendt was gesturing to only one of the most marked degrees, but to all of our detriment our governments have drawn a through line from the current human rights violations to the horrible atrocities of our past.
Those who advocate for them are Evil.
Those who ask to see them are Evil.
Those who use them are Evil.
I am not being hyperbolic; individuals who cannot see or do not see the moral and ethical hazard of VACCINE PASSPORTS are profoundly dangerous. That they are blind to this hazard suggests that in other facets of their life they have no underlying or foundational moral or ethical beliefs.
That they have uncritically adopted the Gesundheitpass, not understanding or knowing its origins, is an emphatic indictment of their complicity in the establishment of an immoral STATE.
Just because you collectively participate in EVIL, that does not absolve you or suddenly make your immoral actions right or good. It only means that your demoralization due to fear and hysteria is complete.
You are no longer a person.
You have been weaponized by an unjust and harmful STATE.
It is easy to commit wrong when you are celebrated and supported when you commit it.
The Wiktionary
Evil: from Middle English yvel, evel, ivel, uvel, from Old English yfel, from Proto-West Germanic *ubil, from Proto-Germanic *ubilaz (compare Saterland Frisian eeuwel, Dutch euvel, Low German övel, German übel), from Proto-Indo-European *h₂upélos (compare Old Irish fel (“bad, evil”), from Proto-Celtic *uɸelos), diminutive of *h₂wep(h₁)-, *h₂wap- (“treat badly”) (compare Hittite 𒄷𒉿𒀊𒍣 (huwapp-i, “to mistreat, harass”), 𒄷𒉿𒀊𒉺𒀸 (huwappa-, “evil, badness”)),[3] or alternatively from *upélos (“evil”, literally “going over or beyond (acceptable limits)”), from Proto-Indo-European *upo, *h₃ewp- (“down, up, over”).
Online Etymological Dictionary
Old English yfel (Kentish evel) "bad, vicious, ill, wicked," from Proto-Germanic *ubilaz (source also of Old Saxon ubil, Old Frisian and Middle Dutch evel, Dutch euvel, Old High German ubil, German übel, Gothic ubils), from PIE *upelo-, from root *wap- "bad, evil" (source also of Hittite huwapp- "evil").
In Old English and other older Germanic languages other than Scandinavian, "this word is the most comprehensive adjectival expression of disapproval, dislike or disparagement" [OED]. Evil was the word the Anglo-Saxons used where we would use bad, cruel, unskillful, defective (adj.), or harm (n.), crime, misfortune, disease (n.). In Middle English, bad took the wider range of senses and evil began to focus on moral badness. Both words have good as their opposite. Evil-favored (1520s) meant "ugly." Evilchild is attested as an English surname from 13c.
The adverb is Old English yfele, originally of words or speech. Also as a noun in Old English, "what is bad; sin, wickedness; anything that causes injury, morally or physically." Especially of a malady or disease from c. 1200. The meaning "extreme moral wickedness" was one of the senses of the Old English noun, but it did not become established as the main sense of the modern word until 18c.
As a noun, Middle English also had evilty. Related: Evilly. Evil eye (Latin oculus malus) was Old English eage yfel. The jocular notion of an evil twin as an excuse for regrettable deeds is by 1986, American English, from an old motif in mythology.
evil (n.)
"anything that causes injury, anything that harms or is likely to harm; a malady or disease; conduct contrary to standards of morals or righteousness," Old English yfel.
Oxford English Dictionary
Forms: Old English–Middle English yfel (in inflexions yf(e)l-), (Middle English ifel, Middle English efel, yfell, Middle English ywel(l, Middle English ufel, Middle English uvel(e, Middle English ivel, (Middle English ȝevel, Middle English ivil), Middle English–1500s evel(l(e, (Middle English ewelle, hevelle, 1500s ewil, yell), Middle English–1500s evill(e, -yl(l(e, yvel(l(e, (1500s yevill), Middle English– evil.(Show Less)
Frequency (in current use): Show frequency band information
Etymology: Middle English uvel (ü), Old English yfel = Old Saxon uƀil, Old Frisian, Middle Dutch evel (Dutch euvel), Old High German ubil, upil (German übel), Gothic ubils < Old Germanic *uƀilo-z; usually referred to the root of up, over; on this view the primary sense would be either ‘exceeding due measure’ or ‘overstepping proper limits’.
The form evel , whence the modern form descends, appears in Middle English first as west midland and Kentish, but in 15th cent. had become general. The conditions under which early Middle English/i/ or /y/ became /eː/, the antecedent of modern English /iː/, are not clearly determined; the present word and weevil seem to be the only examples in which this change was other than local; obsolete and dialect instances are yeve = ‘give’, leve = ‘live’, easle n. (Other apparent examples are due to Old English forms with eo, resulting < u- or o- umlaut.)
A. adj. The antithesis of good adj., n., adv., and int. in all its principal senses.
In Old English, as in all the other early Germanic languages except Scandinavian, this word is the most comprehensive adjectival expression of disapproval, dislike, or disparagement. In mod. colloquial English it is little used, such currency as it has being due to literary influence. In quite familiar speech the adj. is commonly superseded by bad; the n. is somewhat more frequent, but chiefly in the widest senses, the more specific senses being expressed by other words, as harm, injury, misfortune, disease, etc.
- Morally depraved, bad, wicked, vicious. Also absol. Obsolete as applied to persons.
- Doing or tending to do harm; hurtful, mischievous, prejudicial. Of advice, etc.: Misleading. Of an omen, etc.: Boding ill.
I. The adjective used absol. That which is evil.
a. In the widest sense: that which is the reverse of good; whatever is censurable, mischievous, or undesirable. Also with adjective: moral evil, physical evil.
b. What is morally evil; sin, wickedness.
c. What is mischievous, painful, or disastrous. - to do evil, †say evil. (In post-inflectional English hardly distinguishable from use of evil adv.) †with evil: with evil intention. †to take in, or to, evil: to take (a thing) ill; also, to be hurt by.
- gen. Anything that causes harm or mischief, physical or moral. the social evil: prostitution.
†6. A calamity, disaster, misfortune. Obsolete.
†a. gen. A disease, malady. Obsolete.
b. the Aleppo evil: ‘a disease, which first appears under the form of an eruption on the skin, and afterwards forms into a sort of boil’ ( Penny Cycl. XII. 12/2). †the foul evil: the pox. †the falling evil: = ‘the falling sickness’, epilepsy.
Note that our current social condition is Evil incarnate. The broad range of definitions for Evil above highlight this.
Covid as a disease is Evil.
The outcomes of Covid policy as a mitigation strategy are Evil.
Individual’s thoughts and behaviours are Evil: Among voters who have a Very Favorable impression of Biden, 51% are in favor of government putting the unvaccinated in “designated facilities,” and 54% favor imposing fines or prison sentences on vaccine critics. REREAD THAT.
At its core Evil is the “overstepping of proper limits.” We have witnessed governments, businesses, schools, pharmaceutical companies, teachers, doctors, “experts,” politicians, employers, employees, friends, neighbours, family members…almost every single entity, institution, and person has actively overstepped what is proper in the face of the Evil of COVID.
But you do not negate one Evil by employing a slew of other Evils.
The COVID Lockdown Policy and the rhetoric around Lockdown and Vaccination were and continue to be EVIL. There is no debate on this. We have ushered in a profound and cascading reverberation of Evil throughout almost every aspect of our society and culture. We employed Evil in an attempt to stop Evil.
We are on the verge of the complete and total collapse of social and civic unions in places like Canada, Austria, Australia, New Zealand, Germany, Italy, Greece, California, and Quebec (to name the most obvious). The reasons are clear: people who lack wisdom and intelligence are making policy decisions that are Evil. And a very ignorant population in each of these countries have become so demoralized that they are willing to participate in Evil, so long as they can “get back to Normal,” or what we call the “New Normal.”
The trick: Call Evil “Good” or “Virtuous” or “Proper Behaviour.” Just rebrand Evil. That is all it takes. We call that “Nudging.”
In the current global milieu this is not a fight between Good and Evil, it is a fight between different kinds of Evil and different intensifications of Evil.
There is no Good. “Good” has been nudged and rebranded out of existence.
Vaccine Passports create a society that is based on medical apartheid, discrimination, segregation, and division. Past societies that employed similar social policies have always been deemed to be Evil. The current state of things does not alter the moral template of our interpretation of the past or the present. One needs to bar 100s if not 1000s of people from entry to a particular location in order to stop one statistically significant outbreak of COVID (remember, only COVID matters. Nothing else). The social and individual harm due to active occlusion from civil society without any real health benefit is a form of social contagion and is Evil. Vaccine Passports push unscientific claims as to the efficacy and purpose of vaccines. That the government “nudges” such claims is an assault on the rational mind and a form of Evil. The vaccines neither stop transmission nor preclude infection. Vaxxkarens are just as likely to transmit COVID and become infected as the Informed Consent Crowd. Regardless of Vaccine status everyone will get COVID (I have had it twice, it was less severe than a minor cold). Risk from COVID is age and comorbidity stratified. Vaccine Passports suggest that the vaccinated are without risk while the unvaccinated are at risk and catalyze risk to others. This is LowIQ risk analysis. Vaccine Passports obfuscate proper risk analysis, and thereby induce fear in people who simply have an incredibly low risk from COVID. Check your risk here and situate it within other risks here. My risk of contracting and dying of COVID (unvaxxed) places me somewhere between being mauled to death by dogs and being electrocuted to death by lightning. If I were vaccinated my risk does NOT change in any meaningful way: still between dogs and lightning. If you are vaccinated and believe in their efficacy then why are you participating in a system of social occlusion? Your participation in this incoherent, irrational, and harmful system is Evil. Vaccine Passports teach children that it is OK to discriminate against people. This is a cultural and social Evil that will have generational impacts and consequences. We should be ashamed of ourselves. Vaccine Passports have been part and parcel of political mechanisms to marginalize and other citizens. Political leaders have stated outright that Vaccine Passports have no real medical value, but are designed to coerce people into vaccination by limiting their constitutional and human rights. Leaders have done this in spite of scientific evidence that suggests vaccine passports actually DE-INCENTIVIZE vaccination. I will not entertain the idea of vaccination in a polity that employs a vaccine passport, and even if I had been vaccinated, I would NOT have downloaded a QR code and used it. I will not actively participate in a system that is based on discrimination. If you participate in Evil, you are Evil. Vaccine Passports violate Informed Consent. It is illegal and a violation of human rights for medical practitioners, government officials, and businesses to employ coercion in order to compel an individual into informed consent. Canada is clear that informed consent must be obtained before any vaccination is given. Informed Consent has an ancient and long history, and at its core are the following conditions: A patient's informed consent requires adequate information, capacity to decide, and absence of coercion. Informed consent is incorporated into a process of agreement between a patient and a physician called "shared decision making." Under normal conditions informed consent is an agreement between the physician and their patient. Governments, businesses, and other institutions had little to no role to play in this private deliberation between a doctor and patient. With the creation of the Biomedical STATE in which governments, businesses, commercial zones, media, schools, and domestic spaces have become medicalized, informed consent has now been expanded beyond the private deliberations of a doctor and patient to include nearly all social and political institutions. To that end any form of punitive measures to compel vaccination by institutions—in this case, Vaccine Passports—is a violation of informed consent. It is impossible for an individual to consent to a medical treatment under these conditions. Violations of Informed Consent is a species of Evil. Vaccine Passports are being employed as a Trojan Horse in order to hasten the development and employment of Digital Identifications. There has been no public policy debate as to the ethical and moral implications of Digital Identification, and its obvious slippery slope into a Social Credit System. The DAICC or the Digital ID and Authentication Council of Canada has stated explicitly that “COVID has accelerated Canadians’ demand for digital ID.” How does an organization that is actively working to implement a Digital ID come to this conclusion of mass Canadian support for a Digital ID? It does it through a survey that manipulated the respondents’ answers. The methodology of the survey is laughable. Note that a restructuring of the entirety of Canadian society and the very idea of privacy itself are based on a survey of a 1000 people, haphazardly and irrationally chosen. A vaccine passport system creates the necessary infrastructure to implement a Digital ID system. The Vaccine Passport is ALREADY being used as a variation on a Social Credit System. Social Credit systems are Evil. While there may be a utility to Digital IDs, there must be a robust, public, and thoughtful conversation about their application. Instead, the Vaccine Passport has allowed for governments to push through Digital IDs without any democratic oversight. Thales Digital Identity and Security has said emphatically that Vaccine Passports are precursors to Digital ID Wallets, “offering citizens unparalleled convenience and security.” Frankly, governmental institutions and Digital Identification companies have little to no credibility due to the total and complete failure of governmental COVID policy and the employment of divisive technologies in the form of Vaccine Passports. That COVID is being used surreptitiously by unethical individuals to create an administrative super-state that already is applying the ethos of a social credit system to citizens in Canada and elsewhere is…wait for it…Evil. The othering and marginalization of the pro-informed consent crowd by means of vaccine passports has resulted in diminished discourse and discussion on topics that ought to have as broad a selection of voices and viewpoints as possible. People who see the moral and ethical harm of vaccine passports are being occluded from spaces by those who employ them, when those very people who employ them ought to hear and listen to why individuals might think vaccine passports are wrong. This occlusion of a free discourse of ideas in a free society results in further division and lack of empathy. The silencing of view point diversity—especially points of view on social and cultural morals and ethics—is a species of Evil. Generally, we see such totalitarian systems activated in societies that have inclined towards moral and ethical absolutism and despotism. Historically speaking we understand that these societies were Evil. Yet, we are currently turning a blind eye to the Evil taking place in front of us. Vaccine Passports are a violation of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Values. Read it for yourself. You do not need a lawyer, or judge, or human rights council to tell you how to interpret this very clear and concise document. It was written in a way so that EVERYONE can know their rights and freedoms. Currently, legal charges are being filed against the Vaccine Passports because they violate the Canadian Charter of Rights and Values. Vaccine Passports violate the fundamental rights and freedoms of every Canadian. This violation of foundational human rights is Evil. The active participation in the Vaccine Passport is Evil. Hannah Arendt states the following in a letter to Gerhard Scholem: You are quite right, I changed my mind and do no longer speak of “radical evil.” … It is indeed my opinion now that evil is never “radical,” that it is only extreme, and that it possesses neither depth nor any demonic dimension. It can overgrow and lay waste the whole world precisely because it spreads like a fungus on the surface. It is “thought-defying,” as I said, because thought tries to reach some depth, to go to the roots, and the moment it concerns itself with evil, it is frustrated because there is nothing. That is its “banality.” Only the good has depth that can be radical. It is the commonplace participation in mundane and banal evil that rots and contaminates society. Each and every time you use your Vaccine Passport or every time you ask to see another’s Vaccine Passport, you are simply lessening your moral and ethical state of being, until all you have become is an empty shell of a morally defunct vessel of Evil. Vaccine Passports have so harmed the social fabric of society that the STATES which employ it have lost all moral and ethical credibility. This loss of moral and ethical credibility may have catastrophic outcomes on society. We will witness a series of other harms that all follow upon Vaccine Passports (we already are). Individuals will become even more complicit in these future harms. A free and peaceful society is a fragile thing. It is not something that ought to be assumed as a norm. In fact, a free and peaceful society is the exception that proves the rule. The adoption of Vaccine Passports is the end of a free and peaceful society. It is the first step to that other form of society which by and large has made up the history of humanity. There is always a reckoning for those who are complicit in the Evil. Evil breeds Evil breeds Evil.
They are complicit
They are complicit in medical apartheid.
They are complicit in discrimination.
They are complicit in the violation of constitutional rights.
They are complicit in the demonization of those who disagree with them.
They are complicit in promoting the moral and ethical hazards of the biomedical STATE.
They are complicit in adopting an incoherent narrative based on fear and hysteria.
They are complicit in elevating leaders and “experts” who lacked the wisdom and enlightenment to lead humanity through this moment of crisis.
They are complicit in the massive rise in rape, incest, sexual violence, domestic abuse, alcohol and drug abuse, obesity, educational deprivation, poverty, homelessness, and child abuse, not to mention the total rending of the social fabric caused by Lockdown Policy.
Stop being complicit.
Stop being Evil.
Apologize.
Most people do not understand or care about medical ethics. Take some time and listen to a conversation that filters the current COVID narrative through the lens of Medical Ethics. A virus does not negate moral and ethical behaviour
2021.12.11 17:43 Peacock-Shah The Federal Republican Presidential Nomination of 1904 Peacock-Shah Alternate Elections
To the shock of the nation, incumbent President George Dewey issued a letter to the nation announcing that he shall not seek the presidency for a second term, yet clarifying that he will accept any nomination offered to him. The letter has paved the way for the candidacy of Senator William McKinley after years of draft movements, while other candidates have sprung forth. Meanwhile, a movement to renominate Dewey persists with the backing of a motley coalition of small government liberals, anti-prohibitionists, free traders, and La Follette-aligned progressives.
Shelby M. Cullom: 75 year old "Uncle Shelby" served as Secretary of State in the Houston Administration, presiding over the expansion of the Navy, Pacific War, and Treaties of Hong Kong and Lisbon, leading imperialists, including President Houston, to label him as the greatest foreign policy mind in American history. Cullom began his career as Illinois' young Federalist Governor before forming the state Federal Republican alliance and winning election to the Senate, where he became the premier Senate ally of Speaker of the House John D. White, the man credited with almost single-handedly building the progressive wing of the Federal Republican Party. Cullom served as White's 1880 front candidate yet broke with him in 1888 over White's opposition to imperialism. This divide led to Cullom's eventual selection by President Houston as Secretary of State, where he found himself with more control over foreign affairs than any Secretary since Daniel S. Dickinson, guiding the inexperienced young President as he led the nation through the Pacific War, while refusing to publicly support his 1900 third party bid. Cullom has become gradually less identifiable as a progressive and is now considered a moderate or even a conservative to some, such as many Cummins' supporters, yet is acceptable to all factions of the party, while taking a moderate view on prohibition and endorsing protectionist tariff rates.
Albert B. Cummins: 54 year old Iowa Governor Albert B. Cummins was among the most notable allies of Aaron Burr Houston who refused to join the Houston's 1900 bolt on the Progressive ticket. Being a progressive, though not an ally of labor unions, a prohibitionist, and an imperialist, Cummins has won the tacit endorsement of former President Houston and argues that he presents the best case to the Progressive Party and progressive bolters from 1900 to rejoin the Federal Republicans. Meanwhile, Cummins has presented a moderate view on tariffs, arguing for the "Iowa idea" wherein tariff rates reflect the difference between the cost of domestic and foreign production, while not being strongly protectionist. The folksy Cummins has toured the Midwest for his campaign, focusing on farmers, a constituency Cummins argues only he can win, as well as the early primary state of Wisconsin and attempting to court the support of Senator Isaac Stephenson, a fellow Houstonian who declined to join the 1900 bolt.
Eugene Hale: The Senate's 68 year old "Mr. Conservative" has mounted a second bid for the presidency after winning a handful of faithless electors in the elections of 1896 and 1900. Hale, to many, typifies the classical conservatism of New England that has ruled the region since the days of the old Federalist Party, within which a young Hale began his career decades ago. Hale has been a leading advocate of protectionist tariffs, civil rights legislation, though all candidates seeking the nomination supported the Civil Rights Act of 1894, and the maintenance of prohibition while leading Federal Republican opposition to the Pacific War and imperialism of the Houston Administration. While advocating for a strong Navy to protect trade, Hale criticized both Presidents Dewey and Houston for their efforts in naval expansion in the aftermath of the Pacific War, arguing that doing so is a demonstration of fiscal irresponsibility.
Boies Penrose: The political bosses of old have spent years in retreat. With the combined efforts of the Federal Republicans of Theodore Roosevelt, Liberals of Grover Cleveland, and Farmer-Laborites of Henry George and William Randolph Hearst, the Federal Republican alliance between Tammany Hall and Roscoe Conkling's machine that once held an iron grip over New York politics has been thoroughly routed; meanwhile, the efforts of these and similar reformers have crippled political machines or replaced them with newer ones, as seen by William Flinn's Pennsylvania Progressive machine. Seeking the position of kingmaker in a contested convention, party bosses and leaders of political machines of old have united behind the candidacy of 44 year old Boies Penrose, successor to the remnants of the late Matthew S. Quay's Federal Republican machine, whom Quay himself inherited following the imprisonment of former boss J. Donald Cameron on corruption charges. Penrose is a conservative on economic issues and a dedicated protectionist, co-authoring the 52% tariff in effect during the Pacific War and opposing its repeal, while supporting imperialism on foreign policy. Nonetheless, Penrose is a stringent opponent of prohibition and has supported the efforts of President Dewey and the Liberals for its repeal.
George Dewey: 67 year old incumbent President George Dewey may not be actively seeking re-election, but many supporters, including his cabinet, Vice President La Follette, and led by unofficial campaign manager Robert E. Pattison have accepted the challenge of renominating Dewey for a second term without the President actively campaigning for one. While Dewey has failed to repeal both prohibition and Chinese exclusion, his efforts on both fronts have galvanized supporters of both sides of each issue. Dewey bucked party orthodoxy by appointing members of the 1900 Progressive bolt, Farmer-Labor Party, and LAP to major office, while supporting a lowering of tariffs, eventually compromising on the moderate Beveridge Tariff, yet maintaining his calls for further reductions. Meanwhile, Dewey opposed the annexation of the Philippines but accepted the annexation of the area of Moroland after a referendum, while allying with Secretary of the Navy Theodore Roosevelt to take a strong stance against the blockade of Venezuela by European powers, resulting in damages to German-American relations.
The opening salvo of primaries-Kentucky, Wisconsin, and Michigan, set the tone for the campaign. Wisconsin's results were marred by the crash of a train transporting ballots, leading to the eventual disqualification of the primary, Meanwhile, the victory of the movement to draft President Dewey saw an upset victory in Kentucky, followed by the narrow defeat of McKinley in the Michigan primary. Texas and California's primaries blunted the Dewey movement, however, with Texas McKinley managers George Noonan and Robert Hawley upstaging the attempts by Houston forces to secure a victory for Cummins, yet Cummins won California with the aid of campaign manager Hiram Johnson, the Progressive Party's unsuccessful gubernatorial nominee in 1902 and a former Representative. Tennessee saw progressives take a surprising defeat anew as Henry Clay Evans carried McKinley to victory, a victory reprised in North Carolina with the aid of Jeter Pritchard and George Henry White. Eugene Hale would win his sole victory of the primary season in Massachusetts, on the same day that George Dewey narrowly carried New York with Theodore Roosevetl's aid. Thus, the final contest of the season would prove to be the key race for McKinley. With Penrose expecting solid control of countless boss-controlled delegations revolving around his home state, the Penrose-Quay machine expected a firm grip on his state, yet the McKinley campaign brought in New Jersey’s Garret Hobart on their behalf, while former anti-machine Governor Robert E. Pattison led Dewey forces, leading to fears of splitting the wet vote as Hale failed to make the ballot. The fears were realized in full as Dewey won 22.3%, Penrose won 35.4%, and Senator McKinley carried all 32 delegates of the winner-take-all primary with a mere 36.2% of the vote. With the crucial defeat, Penrose’s minor yet nonetheless present hopes for the nomination were dashed, while McKinley and his allies received a major boost.
The First Ballot: With Alabama’s William Youngblood at the helm alongside Charles G. Dawes of Illinois and McKinley’s old ally Mark Hanna, now gravely ill, McKinley was able to carry a plurality of the many local conventions and caucuses to elect delegates to the national convention, allowing him to enter the convention with a strong lead. Yet, the combined efforts of the other candidates proved far more than enough to deny McKinley a majority. The illness of Mark Hanna further compounded the problem, as William B. Allison emerged to lead the Cullom effort.
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The Second Ballot: The totals remained largely static, with Georgia’s being the only delegation to flip wholly, going from Eugene Hale to Shelby Cullom. Yet, despite losing only seven votes, McKinley would be damaged more than any other candidate. The news of Mark Hanna’s health declining further would damage his supporters’ morale, as Dawes and Youngblood attempted to corral the McKinley forces. In doing so, they would make a deadly mistake, playing up McKinley’s support and predicting a quick victory-making McKinley’s eventual minor losses seem significant in comparison and shattering their credibility with much of the press, a fact hammered to the people through the headlines of countless Hearst-owned papers nationally.
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The Third Ballot: With the remnants of the machine of Houston leading to a defection of Texas delegates, McKinley lost what vestiges of that most important force at the political convention-momentum-that he may have once had on his side, as the LAP-leaning elements of the Virginia party flipping the state to Dewey. With Hale losing faster than even McKinley, Dewey and Cummins would find themselves gaining momentum.
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The Fourth Ballot: Indiana flipped to Dewey as McKinley lost an additional 15 delegates, with Cummins continuing to rise. Governor Pattison arrived at the convention at the balloting was taking place to lead the Dewey forces-who smelled blood in the water and saw the nomination of their reluctant candidate in sight. Meanwhile, the McKinley camp would receive a telegraph bearing the news they all dreaded-the death of Mark Hanna. The campaign developed an unmistakable air of sadness hereafter, even as Arkansas Senator Powell Clayton, Alabama Party Chairman Youngblood, and Illinois Campaign CFO Dawes all jockeyed to replace Hanna.
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The Fifth Ballot: Hiram Johnson’s so-called “mad dash” would begin, as he rallied the party’s progressives for re-unification and pitched Cummins as the candidate for victory, with the Iowan jumping to 67 votes. Meanwhile, the now rejuvenated Dewey structure, finally with the partial acknowledgement of the President, came within three votes of the despondent McKinley-ites.
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The Sixth Ballot: Johnson’s organizing-keeping up through the night despite the convention adjourning, would lead to the surprise jump of Albert B. Cummins by 44 votes on the sixth ballot, with Eugene Hale joining Cummins in making gains primarily at President Dewey’s expense, with McKinley’s margin expanding even as his sheer support declined.
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The Seventh Ballot: Several Penrose supporters defected to Hale, while an exhausted Johnson kept up his efforts for Cummins. Yet the progressives’ campaign and Johnson’s management would be famously depicted in Puck Magazine as a dam with Johnson furiously gallivanting around to plug holes in it with his fingers, even as more sprung up. And indeed, though Johnson was able to keep Cummins at 111 votes, sour memories of the 1900 split kept him far from victory.
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The Eighth Ballot: Eugene Hale found himself as the next candidate in the spotlight, jumping to 92 votes, more out of desperation rather than enthusiasm for “Mr. Conservative.” Nonetheless, he would nearly overtake Dewey and blunt the Cummins movement, while Dewey would lose a striking 27 delegates over the ballot.
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The Ninth Ballot: Both Dewey and McKinley found themselves making gains as Hale’s brief momentum subsided. Cummins remained at 106 delegates with the diligent efforts of Hiram Johnson, yet his momentum had died as well. Penrose and Cullom continued to stagnate. With no candidate seeming attractive or a uniter in the least, five delegates cast their votes for John Hay. However, these were not random votes. A friend to George Dewey and his unofficial chief advisor, Hay was nonetheless much more of an orthodox Federal Republican politically, and a close friend to Dewey’s primary competitor, William McKinley, as well as an ally and longtime acquaintance of Shelby Cullom.
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The Tenth Ballot: McKinley and Dewey continued their gains, as the Hay movement seemingly stagnated at 7 votes. Albert Cummins former juggernaut began to crumble, while the loyal Hale following remained largely intact. A telegram arrived at McKinley’s home from the White House, via Pennsylvania.
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The Eleventh Ballot: The count remained stagnant as McKinley’s campaign and the draft Dewey movement remained in gridlock, with the other candidates failing to make much headway. The number of Hay delegates rose to eight. The telegraph wires between Ohio, Southern Illinois, Washington D.C., and the Convention in Chicago heated up as Charles Dawes met with Dewey’s son, George Jr., present at the convention.
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The Twelfth Ballot: In a sudden twist, the entire Illinois delegation flipped to Hay, with Cullom leaving the race. Despite McKinley making gains, it would be the Hay effort that captured the momentum. McKinley and Dewey, both conscious of the unlikelihood of their victory, would tacitly back out of the contest, leaving Hay to fill their void.
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The Thirteenth Ballot & Nomination: Youngblood of Alabama, George Henry White, and others would remain loyal to McKinley, as Grover Cleveland maintained a similarly loyal following to Dewey, but it was for naught. Hay overtook every other candidate. As chants of ”Hay!” filled the halls, he found victory on the fourteenth ballot, with delegations moving to him en masse after he moved over the top with the switch of Oregon’s delegates. With that, 66 years of age and in questionable health, yet uniting to his party, John Hay was nominated for President of the United States.
A poet, author, and statesman, Hay is like few others to ever be nominated, yet his public renown is low, with his highest national offices being Senator from Illinois as an appointee and Deputy Secretary of State under President Longstreet, though his foreign service as Ambassador to the United Kingdom from 1893 to 1901 is considered his crowning achievement, with his famous quote during the Senate debate over the Treaty of Hong Kong ”The attitude of the Senate toward public affairs makes all serious negotiations impossible [...] We are in a bad way. That herd of wild asses' colts [see Job 11:12], braying and kicking up their heels, is an unsatisfactory result of a hundred years of Democracy.” making him popular with expansionists. Silent on the prohibition issue, Hay agreed to back whatever the party endorsed in his letter of acceptance, with a dry plank seizing victory with 202 votes against to 399 in favor. Aside from this, his letter would prove fairly jejune aside from his rousing opening line: ”The evils of tyranny are rarely seen but by him who resists it.”
The Vice Presidential Nomination: While appeasing the Dewey and McKinley wings of the Federal Republicans, Hay’s nomination failed to placate President Houston and the Progressives. Thus, newly elected Committee Chairman Charles G. Dawes and Progressive Party Chairman Joseph M. Carey would enter into negotiations over the Progressive endorsement of Hay. With demands for equal treatment of former bolters officially accepted and the dissolution of the Progressive Party on the table, the Progressives’ had but a single remaining demand: that the candidate for Vice President be among their own.
Hiram Johnson, Theodore Roosevelt, Joseph M. Carey, and, most of all, Tennessee’s leading politician and former Speaker of the House John C. Houk were all considered, yet Hay would intercede in negotiations to suggest a progressive he was on good terms with, having known his father: 39 year old Ohio Representative James R. Garfield, son of former Senator James A. Garfield. The Garfield nomination would be accepted by all parties and agreed to be by acclamation from the delegates, accepting the nomination with a call for unity in support of progress and prohibition, calling the Federal Republican platform “the fairest way forward.”
https://freeimage.host/i/7jhybe
The Elections of 1900
Midterms of 1902
A Summary of President George Dewey’s Term
1904 Farmer-Labor Nomination
Complete Link Compendium
Map
submitted by Peacock-Shah to Presidentialpoll [link] [comments]
The Candidates
William McKinley: William McKinley first gained attention as a young Congressman for being the Federal Republican candidate for office best performing among union voters, leading to his appointment as Secretary of Labor by President Bragg. Yet, at the height of the Cuban Crisis, McKinley reluctantly agreed to support the usage of the army against striking workers, a decision that has haunted his political career ever since. After a term as Ohio’s Governor, McKinley served as the regular Federal Republican nominee for Vice President under Frederick Douglass in 1888 and has served as a Senator from Ohio since 1893. While a prohibitionist, an expansionist, and a conservative, the 61 year old McKinley has become among the few figures popular in all corners of the Federal Republican Party, with progressives holding him in esteem for his loyal support of President Houston prior to the Progressive bolt and anti-imperialists respecting him for his initial alliance with them prior to the Pacific War. Additionally, McKinley has won the support of most of the party's leading black office holdersShelby M. Cullom: 75 year old "Uncle Shelby" served as Secretary of State in the Houston Administration, presiding over the expansion of the Navy, Pacific War, and Treaties of Hong Kong and Lisbon, leading imperialists, including President Houston, to label him as the greatest foreign policy mind in American history. Cullom began his career as Illinois' young Federalist Governor before forming the state Federal Republican alliance and winning election to the Senate, where he became the premier Senate ally of Speaker of the House John D. White, the man credited with almost single-handedly building the progressive wing of the Federal Republican Party. Cullom served as White's 1880 front candidate yet broke with him in 1888 over White's opposition to imperialism. This divide led to Cullom's eventual selection by President Houston as Secretary of State, where he found himself with more control over foreign affairs than any Secretary since Daniel S. Dickinson, guiding the inexperienced young President as he led the nation through the Pacific War, while refusing to publicly support his 1900 third party bid. Cullom has become gradually less identifiable as a progressive and is now considered a moderate or even a conservative to some, such as many Cummins' supporters, yet is acceptable to all factions of the party, while taking a moderate view on prohibition and endorsing protectionist tariff rates.
Albert B. Cummins: 54 year old Iowa Governor Albert B. Cummins was among the most notable allies of Aaron Burr Houston who refused to join the Houston's 1900 bolt on the Progressive ticket. Being a progressive, though not an ally of labor unions, a prohibitionist, and an imperialist, Cummins has won the tacit endorsement of former President Houston and argues that he presents the best case to the Progressive Party and progressive bolters from 1900 to rejoin the Federal Republicans. Meanwhile, Cummins has presented a moderate view on tariffs, arguing for the "Iowa idea" wherein tariff rates reflect the difference between the cost of domestic and foreign production, while not being strongly protectionist. The folksy Cummins has toured the Midwest for his campaign, focusing on farmers, a constituency Cummins argues only he can win, as well as the early primary state of Wisconsin and attempting to court the support of Senator Isaac Stephenson, a fellow Houstonian who declined to join the 1900 bolt.
Eugene Hale: The Senate's 68 year old "Mr. Conservative" has mounted a second bid for the presidency after winning a handful of faithless electors in the elections of 1896 and 1900. Hale, to many, typifies the classical conservatism of New England that has ruled the region since the days of the old Federalist Party, within which a young Hale began his career decades ago. Hale has been a leading advocate of protectionist tariffs, civil rights legislation, though all candidates seeking the nomination supported the Civil Rights Act of 1894, and the maintenance of prohibition while leading Federal Republican opposition to the Pacific War and imperialism of the Houston Administration. While advocating for a strong Navy to protect trade, Hale criticized both Presidents Dewey and Houston for their efforts in naval expansion in the aftermath of the Pacific War, arguing that doing so is a demonstration of fiscal irresponsibility.
Boies Penrose: The political bosses of old have spent years in retreat. With the combined efforts of the Federal Republicans of Theodore Roosevelt, Liberals of Grover Cleveland, and Farmer-Laborites of Henry George and William Randolph Hearst, the Federal Republican alliance between Tammany Hall and Roscoe Conkling's machine that once held an iron grip over New York politics has been thoroughly routed; meanwhile, the efforts of these and similar reformers have crippled political machines or replaced them with newer ones, as seen by William Flinn's Pennsylvania Progressive machine. Seeking the position of kingmaker in a contested convention, party bosses and leaders of political machines of old have united behind the candidacy of 44 year old Boies Penrose, successor to the remnants of the late Matthew S. Quay's Federal Republican machine, whom Quay himself inherited following the imprisonment of former boss J. Donald Cameron on corruption charges. Penrose is a conservative on economic issues and a dedicated protectionist, co-authoring the 52% tariff in effect during the Pacific War and opposing its repeal, while supporting imperialism on foreign policy. Nonetheless, Penrose is a stringent opponent of prohibition and has supported the efforts of President Dewey and the Liberals for its repeal.
George Dewey: 67 year old incumbent President George Dewey may not be actively seeking re-election, but many supporters, including his cabinet, Vice President La Follette, and led by unofficial campaign manager Robert E. Pattison have accepted the challenge of renominating Dewey for a second term without the President actively campaigning for one. While Dewey has failed to repeal both prohibition and Chinese exclusion, his efforts on both fronts have galvanized supporters of both sides of each issue. Dewey bucked party orthodoxy by appointing members of the 1900 Progressive bolt, Farmer-Labor Party, and LAP to major office, while supporting a lowering of tariffs, eventually compromising on the moderate Beveridge Tariff, yet maintaining his calls for further reductions. Meanwhile, Dewey opposed the annexation of the Philippines but accepted the annexation of the area of Moroland after a referendum, while allying with Secretary of the Navy Theodore Roosevelt to take a strong stance against the blockade of Venezuela by European powers, resulting in damages to German-American relations.
The Primaries
https://freeimage.host/i/7jhUJIThe opening salvo of primaries-Kentucky, Wisconsin, and Michigan, set the tone for the campaign. Wisconsin's results were marred by the crash of a train transporting ballots, leading to the eventual disqualification of the primary, Meanwhile, the victory of the movement to draft President Dewey saw an upset victory in Kentucky, followed by the narrow defeat of McKinley in the Michigan primary. Texas and California's primaries blunted the Dewey movement, however, with Texas McKinley managers George Noonan and Robert Hawley upstaging the attempts by Houston forces to secure a victory for Cummins, yet Cummins won California with the aid of campaign manager Hiram Johnson, the Progressive Party's unsuccessful gubernatorial nominee in 1902 and a former Representative. Tennessee saw progressives take a surprising defeat anew as Henry Clay Evans carried McKinley to victory, a victory reprised in North Carolina with the aid of Jeter Pritchard and George Henry White. Eugene Hale would win his sole victory of the primary season in Massachusetts, on the same day that George Dewey narrowly carried New York with Theodore Roosevetl's aid. Thus, the final contest of the season would prove to be the key race for McKinley. With Penrose expecting solid control of countless boss-controlled delegations revolving around his home state, the Penrose-Quay machine expected a firm grip on his state, yet the McKinley campaign brought in New Jersey’s Garret Hobart on their behalf, while former anti-machine Governor Robert E. Pattison led Dewey forces, leading to fears of splitting the wet vote as Hale failed to make the ballot. The fears were realized in full as Dewey won 22.3%, Penrose won 35.4%, and Senator McKinley carried all 32 delegates of the winner-take-all primary with a mere 36.2% of the vote. With the crucial defeat, Penrose’s minor yet nonetheless present hopes for the nomination were dashed, while McKinley and his allies received a major boost.
The Convention
https://freeimage.host/i/7jhvlpThe First Ballot: With Alabama’s William Youngblood at the helm alongside Charles G. Dawes of Illinois and McKinley’s old ally Mark Hanna, now gravely ill, McKinley was able to carry a plurality of the many local conventions and caucuses to elect delegates to the national convention, allowing him to enter the convention with a strong lead. Yet, the combined efforts of the other candidates proved far more than enough to deny McKinley a majority. The illness of Mark Hanna further compounded the problem, as William B. Allison emerged to lead the Cullom effort.
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The Second Ballot: The totals remained largely static, with Georgia’s being the only delegation to flip wholly, going from Eugene Hale to Shelby Cullom. Yet, despite losing only seven votes, McKinley would be damaged more than any other candidate. The news of Mark Hanna’s health declining further would damage his supporters’ morale, as Dawes and Youngblood attempted to corral the McKinley forces. In doing so, they would make a deadly mistake, playing up McKinley’s support and predicting a quick victory-making McKinley’s eventual minor losses seem significant in comparison and shattering their credibility with much of the press, a fact hammered to the people through the headlines of countless Hearst-owned papers nationally.
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The Third Ballot: With the remnants of the machine of Houston leading to a defection of Texas delegates, McKinley lost what vestiges of that most important force at the political convention-momentum-that he may have once had on his side, as the LAP-leaning elements of the Virginia party flipping the state to Dewey. With Hale losing faster than even McKinley, Dewey and Cummins would find themselves gaining momentum.
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The Fourth Ballot: Indiana flipped to Dewey as McKinley lost an additional 15 delegates, with Cummins continuing to rise. Governor Pattison arrived at the convention at the balloting was taking place to lead the Dewey forces-who smelled blood in the water and saw the nomination of their reluctant candidate in sight. Meanwhile, the McKinley camp would receive a telegraph bearing the news they all dreaded-the death of Mark Hanna. The campaign developed an unmistakable air of sadness hereafter, even as Arkansas Senator Powell Clayton, Alabama Party Chairman Youngblood, and Illinois Campaign CFO Dawes all jockeyed to replace Hanna.
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The Fifth Ballot: Hiram Johnson’s so-called “mad dash” would begin, as he rallied the party’s progressives for re-unification and pitched Cummins as the candidate for victory, with the Iowan jumping to 67 votes. Meanwhile, the now rejuvenated Dewey structure, finally with the partial acknowledgement of the President, came within three votes of the despondent McKinley-ites.
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The Sixth Ballot: Johnson’s organizing-keeping up through the night despite the convention adjourning, would lead to the surprise jump of Albert B. Cummins by 44 votes on the sixth ballot, with Eugene Hale joining Cummins in making gains primarily at President Dewey’s expense, with McKinley’s margin expanding even as his sheer support declined.
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The Seventh Ballot: Several Penrose supporters defected to Hale, while an exhausted Johnson kept up his efforts for Cummins. Yet the progressives’ campaign and Johnson’s management would be famously depicted in Puck Magazine as a dam with Johnson furiously gallivanting around to plug holes in it with his fingers, even as more sprung up. And indeed, though Johnson was able to keep Cummins at 111 votes, sour memories of the 1900 split kept him far from victory.
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The Eighth Ballot: Eugene Hale found himself as the next candidate in the spotlight, jumping to 92 votes, more out of desperation rather than enthusiasm for “Mr. Conservative.” Nonetheless, he would nearly overtake Dewey and blunt the Cummins movement, while Dewey would lose a striking 27 delegates over the ballot.
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The Ninth Ballot: Both Dewey and McKinley found themselves making gains as Hale’s brief momentum subsided. Cummins remained at 106 delegates with the diligent efforts of Hiram Johnson, yet his momentum had died as well. Penrose and Cullom continued to stagnate. With no candidate seeming attractive or a uniter in the least, five delegates cast their votes for John Hay. However, these were not random votes. A friend to George Dewey and his unofficial chief advisor, Hay was nonetheless much more of an orthodox Federal Republican politically, and a close friend to Dewey’s primary competitor, William McKinley, as well as an ally and longtime acquaintance of Shelby Cullom.
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The Tenth Ballot: McKinley and Dewey continued their gains, as the Hay movement seemingly stagnated at 7 votes. Albert Cummins former juggernaut began to crumble, while the loyal Hale following remained largely intact. A telegram arrived at McKinley’s home from the White House, via Pennsylvania.
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The Eleventh Ballot: The count remained stagnant as McKinley’s campaign and the draft Dewey movement remained in gridlock, with the other candidates failing to make much headway. The number of Hay delegates rose to eight. The telegraph wires between Ohio, Southern Illinois, Washington D.C., and the Convention in Chicago heated up as Charles Dawes met with Dewey’s son, George Jr., present at the convention.
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The Twelfth Ballot: In a sudden twist, the entire Illinois delegation flipped to Hay, with Cullom leaving the race. Despite McKinley making gains, it would be the Hay effort that captured the momentum. McKinley and Dewey, both conscious of the unlikelihood of their victory, would tacitly back out of the contest, leaving Hay to fill their void.
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The Thirteenth Ballot & Nomination: Youngblood of Alabama, George Henry White, and others would remain loyal to McKinley, as Grover Cleveland maintained a similarly loyal following to Dewey, but it was for naught. Hay overtook every other candidate. As chants of ”Hay!” filled the halls, he found victory on the fourteenth ballot, with delegations moving to him en masse after he moved over the top with the switch of Oregon’s delegates. With that, 66 years of age and in questionable health, yet uniting to his party, John Hay was nominated for President of the United States.
A poet, author, and statesman, Hay is like few others to ever be nominated, yet his public renown is low, with his highest national offices being Senator from Illinois as an appointee and Deputy Secretary of State under President Longstreet, though his foreign service as Ambassador to the United Kingdom from 1893 to 1901 is considered his crowning achievement, with his famous quote during the Senate debate over the Treaty of Hong Kong ”The attitude of the Senate toward public affairs makes all serious negotiations impossible [...] We are in a bad way. That herd of wild asses' colts [see Job 11:12], braying and kicking up their heels, is an unsatisfactory result of a hundred years of Democracy.” making him popular with expansionists. Silent on the prohibition issue, Hay agreed to back whatever the party endorsed in his letter of acceptance, with a dry plank seizing victory with 202 votes against to 399 in favor. Aside from this, his letter would prove fairly jejune aside from his rousing opening line: ”The evils of tyranny are rarely seen but by him who resists it.”
The Vice Presidential Nomination: While appeasing the Dewey and McKinley wings of the Federal Republicans, Hay’s nomination failed to placate President Houston and the Progressives. Thus, newly elected Committee Chairman Charles G. Dawes and Progressive Party Chairman Joseph M. Carey would enter into negotiations over the Progressive endorsement of Hay. With demands for equal treatment of former bolters officially accepted and the dissolution of the Progressive Party on the table, the Progressives’ had but a single remaining demand: that the candidate for Vice President be among their own.
Hiram Johnson, Theodore Roosevelt, Joseph M. Carey, and, most of all, Tennessee’s leading politician and former Speaker of the House John C. Houk were all considered, yet Hay would intercede in negotiations to suggest a progressive he was on good terms with, having known his father: 39 year old Ohio Representative James R. Garfield, son of former Senator James A. Garfield. The Garfield nomination would be accepted by all parties and agreed to be by acclamation from the delegates, accepting the nomination with a call for unity in support of progress and prohibition, calling the Federal Republican platform “the fairest way forward.”
https://freeimage.host/i/7jhybe
The Elections of 1900
Midterms of 1902
A Summary of President George Dewey’s Term
1904 Farmer-Labor Nomination
Complete Link Compendium
Map