The Evolution of a Slyman

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Ritual 1 (a poem)

It is from this dark chamber that I call from within;
Reaching out to the void, let my workings begin;
With my ritual blade I carve a seal into the ground;
Carefully chosen elementals, incantations, and sigils are laid out;
Chalice in it’s proper place, charms and talismans in their proper state;
Deep and guttural tones as I invoke, she that is the Gate;
Striking flint above the tinder, I bring forth the first fire;
A reminder of our kinship is brought forth in my mind;
What was within is also now without, and so shall be my desire;
Each candle lit in perfect sequence, incense done in the same design;
Last syllables formed and a breath from the smoke held deep;
As I exhale, she has opened the Gate:

-T.C. Downey 2021

Nochtadh Cosmaí

The Sinister Creed

Satan in particular and the Dark Gods in general are a means to self-fulfillment and self-
understanding.

Only by journeying through the darkness within us and without can we attain self-divinity and
thus fulfil the potentiality of our existence.

Our rites, ceremonies and practices are all life-affirming, and show us the ecstasy of existence
and the self-overcoming of the true Adept.

We are feared because we defy and seek to know and thus understand. We rejoice in living: in all
its pleasures but most particularly in its possibilities. We thus extend the frontiers of evolution
while others sleep or cry.

We detest all that enervates and would rather die than submit to anyone or anything – this pride is
the pride of Satan, and Satan is a symbol of our defiance and a sign of our life-enhancing energy.
Others see our way of living and our way of dying and are afraid.

When we hate we hate openly and with arrogance, and when we love, we love with a passion to
match this arrogance: always mindful never to love anyone so much that we cannot see them die,
for death is a natural changing of energies.

We prepare – through our magick and our ways of living – for the Age of Fire (the Aeon of the
Dark Gods) which is to come, when we elitist few shall reach out toward the stars and the galaxies and the new challenges they will bring.

Our way is difficult and dangerous and is for the few who can truly defy the matrix of illusions of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ – that stifle the potentiality of our being.

What does not kill us, makes us stronger.

Codex Saerus – The Order of Nine Angles

As the world around us violently changes, I am reminded of the lobster in the boiling pot. The rich have become nothing but richer, and the poor are only poorer. The masses are so caught up in the little manufactured achievements bestowed upon them. So blinded; so stupid. Men are so emasculated and women are no longer truly venerated. Gender has become something only identified with, and is no longer celebrated or even taboo. One might think to themselves “what strides of social equality have been achieved”, but to me that begs the question; what did it cost us?

I am a person who rarely apologizes, but if any of what I am saying offends you; I am truly sorry. You see, I harbor no phobias in this topic and if it should sound as such; well tough shit, all you will get is an apology from me for it. I am all about becoming who you truly are. If this means you are something other than the once “societal standard”; by all means embrace it. Keep in mind though, I am of the old school of thought; where we do not peek over our neighbor’s fences. So when I speak on these matters, understand that I am not coming from a place of bigoted mind. The only reason, I have chosen to bring this up is, because I believe we are being robbed of something essential and this demonstrates it adequately.

What I mean is this, when I was a small child, life hit me with a series of unfortunate events. I was first stricken sick as an infant. That left me with a massive hearing loss. A short time later, my father passed away in an accident. This left my mother extremely poor and emotionally in despair. She was pregnant at the time of his passing. I went through more than several years of abuse at the hands of my step-family. Mental, physical, and sexual; its like Prego “it’s in there”. By the time I hit the ages of 11-13, my somewhat shy and self-conscious demeanor had culminated into a seemingly magnetic target for bullying. This is the part of the story, where someone should have come to my rescue, and it isn’t. No hero came, no one stuck up for me. The school didn’t care, the police gave even less of a shit.

What transpired instead was a cosmic test of mettle. You see I was born determined. Each event listed I overcame; I rose above it. By the age of 14, I knew who I truly was and nothing was going to hold me down. None of the disadvantages I inherited, would make me take a knee. I had taken on the mantra of, “Why? Because fuck you, that’s why!”. I am my own champion. A warrior within my own rite! The bullies, I bullied them. The abuse I suffered, I let it be the kindling of my internal fire. The deafness, you would have no idea it is there if I did not say so.

Understand this now, I AM NOT SPECIAL! There is nothing about me beyond my defiance and determination that made it possible to overcome. Which is what finally brings me to the impetus and thrust of this entry. “Only by journeying through the darkness within us and without can we attain self-divinity and thus fulfil the potentiality of our existence.” The Sinister Creed gives us 9 points with a singular energy, the thrust to defy and overcome.

It used to be that people of different sexual orientations had to undergo a very personal quest of self-discovery and self-empowerment. So I think, those that did so will understand where I am coming from with this. It should not just be handed to you. You will miss out on everything that truly gives self power and strength. Sure there are those that will succumb and fail, not all are worthy of truly living (in my views, not all are worthy of life). Each must pass the tests of living to be worthy of doing so. Those we coddle, we do them no service. We may love them, but we must be willing to watch them die. This is the Law of Nature, it always has been. This is a cosmic revelation, yet has been no kept secret.

So in that, what do I mean by cosmic revelation? When we look into nature what we see is constantly repeating patterns. Fractals if you will. What happens on a microscopic level, seems to also happen on larger and larger scales. The Law of Nature is no different. In the same way, that a seedling planted on the shadyside of a tree has to struggle and overcome to survive; so must we endure to survive.

With all of the solar storm activity in the news lately, it should also be apparent that the same condition exists on that level. There is in fact, a delicate balance struck in nature. Some of which we can see and comprehend, the rest though the pattern remains elusive.

To be continued…

-BX

Lost in the Rain (an old poem)

Hot as the sun
You can make me
Come all undone
Want you to show me
The winds of the plains
I can feel you
How your thoughts are portrayed
The trees can taste you
Your soft veins
We are all lost in the rain
See all you want
Something’s still missing
What have we done?
I want to see
The dove and the raven become one
Blessed the dead
Damning the living
Standing at the gate
Streams are forgiving
Tasting the nectar of Roman goods
Sack clothe and twinning
Rough leather shelter feet
Crisp morn and sweet dew
An evening of luxury
Faint cause for yearning
Spilling of blood
Streams pass beneath my feet
Trolls feast the crimson mud
No shadows or windows
Old ghosts pass
As do the sands of an hour glass
Still lost in the rain
I can feel you all around me
How your love is inspired
We can all see you
What your heart desires
We’re all lost in the rain
I can feel you all around me
Like the drapes of the night
Look into you
Scrap the depths of your being
See you lost in the rain

-T.C. Downey 1995

What is the Insidious Way?

What is the Insidious Way? Where did it come from? How does it fit in with the Order of Nine Angles and Satanism? These are questions that are valid, yet can be hard to answer, because of the nature of it. First we must understand the word’s meaning and where it comes from.

1a: having a gradual and cumulative effect : SUBTLE

1b: of a disease : developing so gradually as to be well established before becoming apparent

2a: awaiting a chance to entrap : TREACHEROUS

2b: harmful but enticing : SEDUCTIVE

Merriam-Webster Dictionary

Insidious comes from a Latin word for “ambush” (insidiae), which is fitting, as this word often carries the meanings “deceitful,” “stealthy,” or “harmful in an imperceptible fashion.” The first two meanings may be applied to people or things (“an insidious enemy,” “an insidious plot”), while the last is usually applied to things (“insidious problems,” “insidious sexism”), in particular to the gradual progress of a disease (“an insidious malignancy”)

Merriam-Webster Dictionary

I have read other etymology suggesting that it is rooted in the Latin word “Insidere” meaning to lie and wait for.  I will leave the authenticity and factualness of that to David Myatt, if he should ever choose to digress upon it. Through that same action, and in the same way, I am beginning to talk about what it really is.

Let me explain what I mean. You see about 13 years ago, I began studying the Fourth Way as was brought forth by G.I. Gurdjieff. Coincidentally at the same time, became interested in what was being put out about Anton Long and the Order of Nine Angles, by Chloe352. What I found was an unconscious interconnection, an inner resonance if you will. Though it had not quite surfaced or begun to crystallize at that point. There would need to be a few more events before the idea of the Insidious Way came into my head.

Before I get into that though, ( I promise I will explain what I meant soon) a little background on my path to here. In the middle of my seventh grade year, we were assigned a book report. This book report was different than any I had had before, as it was the first one I had to do on a book of my own choosing. Now I was brought up Midwest Baptist or Calvary Baptist, whatever it is that you call it. However at this point in my life, I had become completely dissatisfied with it. Initially I had tried to look into the religion of my ancestors, Druidism, but what I found out was that there are no true accounts of it. Now in all fairness, as to not discount the possibility, it is completely possible that a few bloodlines have aurally passed down the traditions of old. I believe my great-grandfather tried to do so with me as a child. But I digress as I am straying.

I chose to do my report on  I Ching. In the process my first exposure to another religion was Taoism. In Taoism, it is taught that sometimes the best effort is no effort at all. Patience, like the spider in his web, can often reveal the clearest easiest path to attainment.  Then so in the same way, that I will wait for David Myatt to translate the root of the word, we see the very first seed planted in my mind.

Gurdjieff gave the next seed planted. The concept of Self-Remembering showed me that  there was a way to silence the mind while remaining in motion. Insight could be gleaned from simply being in the state of conscious observation. He also introduced me to the concept that there are no great mysteries. That all ideas eventually become known by all, because of the nature of our species. If not in that way, then by it intuitively rising up in the mind of another.

Though somewhat out of chronological order in its placement, it is important now to talk about what I call fertile ground. Chaos Magic and my own purely Satanic ethos provide the rich soil for which this idea has grown. I fell in love with the devil long before I ever read LaVey’s “Magnum Opus”. In truth though the TSB mirrored for me a great deal of my already developing character. Yet I could not simply accept the cookie cutter “Satanity” of the CoS. So I did not pass go and they did not collect $200.

During highschool, I was an avid fan and partaker of recreational drugs. Particularly LSD and other hallucinogenics. My interest in the Occult was further nurtured by the heathenistic pagan hippie commune I bought my psychedelics from. After a dozen or so invitations to join them in ritual, I decided it might be fun to do so after ingesting some mescaline. For a time this was a steady occurrence.

As the years went on in my life, my focus, turned to Chaos Magick. I still had an interest in exploring new ideologies as they presented themselves to me. This all culminated and came to a head sometime in late 2008. I began involvement with The Cult of Cthulhu.  Chaos Magick, Esotericism, Satanism, and The Fourth Way all finally fermented into fertile ground.

At the same time, Chloe was bringing more and more interesting perspectives to light on various subject matter being discussed within the circles I frequented, and at the same time consistently pointing back to the O9A. Ideas like Praxis and Wyrd instantly grabbed my interest. I had read everything I could get my hands on.

Some discussions with Chloe about concept of a memeplex,  along with the more and more frequently occurring arrival of various Nexions, had begun to really hold my interest. What I found most fascinating was the scope of variety and permeance of each occurrence.  I began to know the Tree of Wyrd, just as complete strangers become familiar with each other.

The O9A by its own ethos, is in fact, just as insidious as it is sinister. By the simple fact that the goal is to affect Aeonic Change, and that it is understood this happens gradually over the course of time. Through the use of Aeonic Magick and by whatever other methods it’s initiates employ, this aligns my goals with their own. Though once again, I reject the cookie cutter version of initiation. To be quite honest though, I’m almost positive that this is not considered heretical by the “inner circle”. 

So I guess I should finally answer the question of what is the Insidious Way? In short, the Insidious Way is the belief, practice, and understanding that through conscious observation, dark empathy, dedicated study, development of culture, and Sinister strategy, one can overcome the Magian / Puritan and evolve as a being. Becoming Warlock Warriors aka Darkhorses. These Masters of the Self are Alchemists of Anarchy and Sultans of Subterfuge, seeking the frontline of the coming season.

Any questions?

-Beast Xeno

Aftermath (a short poem)

In this place only earth, trees, and stars;
Beyond the hills things are more bizarre;
The Aethyr whispers in the silent night;
The Ancient Ones will come when the stars are right;
For it is THEM moving through all things;
Always there pulling on our strings;
Those they chose did more than survive;
A brave new world in which they thrive;
Warrior wizards of the killing kind;
Song-like prayer chants from the culling times;
Faces stained of war-paint mixed from mud, blood, and soot;
All who cross this warband are trampled underfoot;
From a distance the erie shadows cast;
Carcasses of monolithic dwellings of the past;
Haunting reminders of when we’d lost our way;
Such vile and dastardly creatures, that which we had became;
Still there were those among Us that waited for the day;
When the season was just right so they could play the sinister game;
A thousand moons have passed since;
Deep into the Aeon of the Crown Prince.

Aethyr Alchemical (part 3)

What follows will seem rigid as I codify the Darkhorse Klan. However I expect to be challenged. I expect attempts made to usurp. As in nature, the struggle for alpha must remain present. In the same tradition, just as all things occurring naturally before this brotherhood; there is a season. When one season ends, another season has already begun.

I like to talk about time in a more organic fashion. In my mind, we try too hard to ascribe an artificial set of properties upon naturally occurring phenomenon. Time is no exception. There is no distinct marking between autumn and winter, nor winter and spring. One slowly fades in as the other slowly fades out. It is only in the height of a season, that you can be sure which season you are in.

I am talking about the most basic understanding of seasons. That being the passing of an indefinite amount of time, which is denoted by a specific set of characteristics. It can be understood that I am describing the coming into and going out of something specific. In the case of Darkhorse Klan, it could be our aims, influences, or methods. As only the strongest and most beneficial of anything should prevail. For one of the earmarks of true honour is dedication to the longevity and sanctity of your own.

Long ago, there was a season where these values were cherished abroad. A time when character was crafted in the individual from the very beginning. Things like clan, country, and honour were embraced and held high. As I said in the beginning of this, the past is gone. Yet that season can come again.

I admire the Koryos. Adolescents tasked with forging their transformation from boy to man. Seeking to connect to the primal and often brutal natural order. Donning the hide of the hunter beast spirit which they seek symbiosis with. Not simply the mimicry of the technique and prowess of these great beasts, but the merging with its metaphysical psychology and life force. It must have been quite a sight to behold, men ferocious and wild often consumed with bloodlust.

Fearless warriors and hunters that were supposedly forced to be an outcast of their clan/tribe. Still they chose to be the protectors of their people. Most were indoctrinated back into the clan/tribe, after passing whatever tests had been set out before them. Still some found their place in this world, and chose never to came back. They had forged their totem.

The importance of a totem is lost in our modern translations. Often seeming as an archaic and inferior understanding, so much gnosis lost. Each Darkhorse should venture to adopt and connect to a totem. This connection will serve as conduit for our transmutation. A true alchemy sought for evolution of our whole being.

To truly fulfill our 9A:O, we must seek not only a personal transformation, but a societal transformation. To achieve this it is difficult to imagine what must be done. The most direct line I can see, is a cleansing and rebirth. The means of such action are far beyond my reach or the reach of probably all that will read this. We all know genocide is a very dirty word. One that most people cannot  condone and most certainly cannot imagine.

Fortunately as the old expression goes, there is more than one way to skin a fox. Selective culling has been employed throughout history to remove undesirable elements in our world. Yet when we speak on the level of what is deemed human, most are mortified.

If someone asked me to cast my vote upon the idea of an annual Purge, (yes I’m talking about the concept as put forth in the movies bearing the same title) I would incline to cast my vote in the affirmative. Even though that would place me and mine in jeopardy for that time, my answer would remain the same. This makes me a bit sad that it would, but I am so disgusted by the condition in which we exist.

To quote the Joker in the 1989 film Batman, “This town needs an enema!”. An end to the neutering and pacification of society as a whole. The rooting out and decimation of the dishonorable, ignorant, and unaccountable pestilence we call mankind. To me it is clear that we have stifled our own course of evolution and some action must be taken.

I have always held a deep admiration for various organizations such as the Hashshashin, Yakuza, and China’s Heaven and Earth Society. The ability to tend to and regulate your own within is beyond admirable. The ability to operate on a clandestine level is even more so. So I have sought to emulate such brotherhoods. It is for this reason that the true name of the Darkhorse Klan, is known only by 9 currently and will only be revealed to those who prove loyalty and solidarity. For the wise, a simple clue; keep your circles small, from this you maintain order.

The past is most certainly gone. Like this moment as it’s passing. For every thing there is a season, and as the season ends, may our season be already underway. I look to the alchemical season with hope and conviction.

I think I have covered a great deal of ground in these three parts. I’m certain a few revisions will surface over time. For now though this will work.

– Beast Xeno

Aethyr Alchemical (part 2)

Let us be like wet clay again. Let us rejoin the Aethyr. There is no better time for us than tomorrow. This should always be in our minds. What we are doing isn’t working. I can’t be the only one who sees this.  A complete reset seems to me, to be the only answer.

That will be no simple task, and what transpires getting to that point, the mundanes will think sinister and insidious. As one seeker, in my many travels down one path or another; there have only been a handful of ideologies offering a complete reset. There are two which I find a harmonic resonance with.  Hence the two symbols at the top of this page.

It is necessary to point out that there are many paths to the top of the mountain, but the ending point is the same. I must also disclose that as we near the top, those choices narrow further and further down. In the end it will come down to who truly reached the peak and how.

The Insidious Way offers the understanding that influence is the truest currency of this world. That it should be observed, tended to, and cultivated. That unless you actively choose what you will stand for or in; you will fall for anything. This requires a great deal of a very specific character.

One must undergo orthodoxy and then heresy to truly ascertain what G.I. Gurdjieff once referred to as right understanding. I truly believe Anton Long came to this conclusion as well. The problem, to me, is not in methods of achieving right understanding. Rather it seems to be in remaining fluid through them. As it is easy to fall into a dogmatic crystallization.

Our failure to remain malleable is often the downfall of the human psychology. We seem inherently obsessed with artificial systems and processes. I attribute this to the use of analogous abstractions. I know this is most often an extremely useful tool for the learning and understanding of the world around us. Still we seem to fixate on the method rather than it’s products and results.

One example is the public reaction to common core mathematics, when it was introduced into public school systems. There seemed to be a literal meltdown of parents all across the country. So many places I saw people complaining that they couldn’t understand it and expressing their fear that their children weren’t going to be able to use it. I was trained in the traditional manner of mathematics, and my son has done common core his entire school career.

He is just as capable if not more so than I am. So I don’t see what the big deal was. It simply meant that I had to learn a different method to achieving the same results. There are many examples of the same scenario playing out and for the sake of brevity, I am not going to go further.

One of the most fascinating and attractive things about the O9A, is the hermetic offering of many different paths on many different levels; all of which, like my analogy, lead to the same place. One must really give Anton Long his due props; it takes an extremely developed gnosis and disciplined mind, to culminate all of these things together. Even if you believe the mythos, and this really is derived from an aural tradition of antiquity, it’s still does not take away from that which is indicative of its complexity and thoroughness. Long is either independently wealthy or has lived as meager as the philosophers of old.

I imagine that it wasn’t a complete package right from the start. In fact, it has taken a lifetime of work to achieve. Though I cannot speak for, and probably shouldn’t about, what his process was; it seems to me an obvious digestion of the occult. Like myself, I suspect the painstaking effort of exploring, participating, and eventually understanding each path one at a time. Extracting the things of value, and discarding the bullshit. As they say, separating the wheat from the chaff.

A truly alchemical reaction, and with each a transmutation of his own personal character. I wonder when he looks in the mirror can he recognize the man that started down this path? For that matter, is there anything left at all? This is a prime example of what it means to be a slyman and the pinnacle of what the Insidious Way is.

It is a shame to me that I will probably never have the opportunity to know and communicate directly with Anton Long. I have associated myself with the O9A for over a decade. Even before my participation with the Nexion L316. I am no closer now, then I was then. I’m okay with that. It hasn’t weakened my resolve in any way. However it would have enriched my understanding of the source.

In that way, I am different. I am here and always available for discussion and collaboration. I am, however, no kind of teacher. What I am sharing, here and in the near future on another site, are my thoughts and my process.

The Insidious Way is to be considered like the Tao. It cannot truly be captured in writing or even conversation. For as potent as the language of symbols is, still it cannot be contained within. There are no metaphors or analogies which can depict it. Each Darkhorse’s aethyric alchemy is personal and should be. This is the only way to ensure that you are the one controlling the forces of influence.

I offer these thoughts to you, dear kinfolk. Do not make the mistake of supposing what you’re final transformation might look like. Do not force yourself to be what you are not. As you interact with each current, remain as wet clay on the potters wheel. Use the experience and the knowledge you gain. Reach deep for that creative connection. Find your groove and let it manifest. You will surprise yourself, with the beauty contained within. Not everyone will end up at the peak of this dark mountain.

What follows will seem rigid as I codify the Darkhorse Klan. However I expect to be challenged. I expect attempts made to usurp. As in nature, the struggle for alpha must remain present.

May the Dark Gods be with you and the new Aeon be Wyrdful. Until part 3.

-Beast Xeno

Aethyr Alchemical (part 1)

The past is gone. This moment is already passing and there is no rewinding it. There is no reason to dwell in it. It cannot be undone. We can study it and learn from it, but we must ultimately; leave it where it is and move forward beyond it. There are choices presented to us with regard to the past. One might decide to not revisit it or even try to recreate it, but alas; it will never be again.

“Jason King” once stated something to the effect of; there has never been a better time than now. His argument was that; we may wish that we could go back to a different time period, thinking that life was better. However that is a double-edged sword, because with those things we think were better, comes all of the difficulties present at that time as well. I don’t need to look any further than in myself to see the truth in that.

I can’t count the number of times, I have thought to myself, I wish I could go back to this time or that time in my life. I remember different periods of life in which different things were “better”, but they really weren’t. So I eventually accept that, right now is my best moment, and I can be hopeful in tomorrow. Then I realize that, tomorrow is the greatest time for me. You see tomorrow is still unpromised.

Tomorrow is raw Materia. It is a wet lump of clay waiting to be sculpted on the potter’s wheel. I can put my hands in it and use my experience to guide its shape. I can envision its potentialities and form it toward my desired perfection. I can work at it in my own pace, and with practice; I will see my planning meeting with my creativity and experience. Should the A:O will it so, it may even stand up to the tests of time.

As an artist, there is this moment during creation; a realization without realization. It is the intersection of the flow of imagination and the act of creating. It is an Alchemy of the Will. When I was tattooing, I used to call it “getting into my groove”. I have however always recognized it when I manifest. It does not matter the manifestation. For those brief moments, I am awake; I am god. I have tapped into the A:O, and it flows through me.

There are a set of lyrics in a song by White Zombie which have always spoken to me. Thirty plus years and I still haven’t completely decoded what they mean to me but they are these:

Straight to the sun I am a walk’n state of the art
All that I see [yeah] new Gods move wipp’n the shore and dash on the reef
Surf city… I walk alone and stare, man, right in the sun
Tear-jerk asylum and cemetery run
Well, how’d I ever get this far man
Smooth curves switchback the sweat
Underneath the body, baby
Where what you see is what you see and what you get.

Warp Asylum – White Zombie

In the summer of 1992, I first heard this song and I was instantly enchanted by these words. The line “straight to the sun, I am a walk’n state of the art” caught my ear and the resonance was almost deafening. That instance, I was transported to a distant futuristic hellscape of dried up beaches just “Beyond the Thunderdome” and I was tagging everything in sight. Later in life, I realized that to me it summed up in a tidy way, the idea that we are walking creators. We are all artists in our own right.

I won’t linger on whatever inspirations, I have drawn from these lyrics over the years. Though there are many, the important one right now is that we are a species of creators. We collectively emulate and venerate creation and we have done so, as far back as history can show us. There is no denying our advancements are many. In a period of a century or two, we can completely rework the face of this entire world. We have done just this.

What we can’t seem to do though, at least not “en mass” is recognize and accept what we truly are. As a child, I was taught that I should strive to be “as gentle as a lamb”. I certainly have had moments, where I was as such, but I know I am more like the wild dog than any gentle lamb. Maybe that has something to do with my Celtic heritage or maybe it is simply because I don’t deny what I am. Deep down though, I know I thirst for worthy battles.

Every great civilization I can think of was born from, and sustained by conquer and conquest. They all seem to fall by the promise of peace. This includes our current age. It seems to me, that when we run out of an outward enemy; we turn toward our inward enemies. A literal and symbolic cannibalism. In the same way that a mother animal would kill off and consume, her offspring should she sense a defect or disadvantage. An act meant to ensure the longevity of her bloodline.

We live in a society where this same behavior is frowned upon and scorned. A world where children are given awards simply for participation. Where rather than force them to rise above whatever disadvantages they may have; we shield and shelter them and call it protection. Yet we do them no great service with this. We teach them weakness and entitlement. Instead of learning to take a punch, we teach them to tattle-tale on the puncher.

You might be wondering why this concerns me. After all doesn’t everyone have a right to a happy life? No they don’t, and though this disgusts me to the core of my being, this is not the “why” that I wish to convey. You see I am a being of reason and logic. I am also one who seeks to remove any illusions of potentialities no matter how horrifying they maybe.

With astronomers saying there could be as many as 40 billion planets in the universe with conditions similar to our own. Meaning capable of sustaining life on them. The closest of them being a mere 12 light years away. It seems like a simple numbers game to me. What I mean is this; we should be expecting visitors.

When they come, and it really does seem like a matter of when, they aren’t coming in peace. It is too costly to travel such distances simply to say hello. They will be motivated to attain something, and are certainly not to leave empty-handed. You can ask how do I know this? This is a valid question and a hard one to answer. Many years of occult study and that of natural behaviors. I have gleaned the many parallels between things on all levels, and can confidently conclude the truth of the old Hermetic idiom “As above, so below”.

Still if this is too much for you to reconcile; if you find it utterly unbelievable; there is still the truth of our own nature to contend with. Because we are a species of violence and war (evidenced by our own histories), and no matter how much “goodie-two-shoes” bubblegum bullshit we try to blow up our own asses, that truth is stark and glaring. For as much as we emanate creation, we also culminate in destruction. So the pendulum sways.

When is it time for us as a species to stop lying to ourselves? When will we not be constantly looking backward for some hidden “knowledge” to fill the vast hole in our collective soul? When will we stop coddling the weak among us and just let our nature be? These are the questions I seek answers to. Not some cryptic wisdom from a time before the time I exist in.

Let us be like wet clay again. Let us rejoin the Aethyr. There is no better time for us than tomorrow. This should always be in our minds. What we are doing isn’t working. I can’t be the only one who sees this.

This was originally going to be a single post, but after some thought; I think it best if I do it in installments. As there is a great deal I am trying to express, and I need time to reflect within it. Thoughts are welcomed, steel will always sharpen steel.

-Beast Xeno

Haunter (a short poem)

Just beyond the reach of the fire’s soft light;
Lurking the shadows, whispering to the night;
From a time before time, Baleful and Malefic;
Crimson-black soaked robe reminiscent of Ole Celtic;
Madness seeping in like spores do a carcass;
An offering made of flesh and bone, who knows the purpose;

Only the Great Mother recognizes all thousand faces;
Staring into the Void, the strange geometry of such places;
Numinously unsettling the intensity renders one nauseous;
Peeling the skin , twisted grin,  ecstasy rises and crashes;
In the pale lunar glow, a new horror is composed;
Blissfully unassuming masses, until the plot unfolds;

In the wake of Myatt’s Vindex, galactic order is imposed;
A return to the folk path, reanimated specter O’ long ago;
In the Times of Culling, glaring notions of suchness had much reveal;
Our kind rises above, because we bathe in fire and steel;
The Black Man shares the message, Awaken the A:O;
The Dark God’s are presenced within the Chaos that is sown; 

And to the New Aeon, be more honest than the last;
Let mankind’s wyrdful purpose reach out into the vast;
Alchemical altered physis, a path that’s sevenfold;
Insidious is the slyman, a sinister dialect of that unknown;
So bring on the Crawling Chaos, raise those megaliths;
Outside the Nameless City,  the darkness is our gift.

-T.C. Downey 06/06/2021

Old Memories (an old poem)

Sing us a song, Old Memories
That melody brings it all back to me
We were so young in those days
The world was the field in which we played
We weren’t afraid of anything
Chancing all Lady Luck would bring
Our souls filled with fire that slowly burns
The lessons of life, we had yet to learn

And I’d give anything to bring, life back to the words you sing
Old Memories please come to me, you are all that’s left of a dream

Conjure a spell that’ll take us there
Back where the feeling was so pure
Give back what I’ve missed so much
Breathe in new life to this withered touch
I remember how the new day would sing
of the treasure’s our old friend Chance would bring
Our spirits would soar way above the sky
Make it the last feeling before I die

No one can change what we’ve exchanged, they can’t make us feel ashamed
What we’ve done and what we’ve shared, those Old Memories can’t be repaired

One day I’ll call on you old friend
To bring back the times of old again
As we talk of the things we used to know
That weak old flame will begin to glow
Brighter with each memory it’ll grow
I think to myself “How I’ve missed you so”
I keep Old Memories in my heart
Right where they’ve been from the start

And I’d give anything to bring, life back to the words you sing
Old Memories please come to me, you are all that’s left of a dream

So sing us a song Old Memories, Remind us of how things used to be.

-T.C. Downey 2002