“The name of the spider is Cynthrix Sycco.”
The Orbs of Golgotha rotated around their heads as they spoke. They were like the moons of Saturn, suspended in an orbit that was the magnetic circle of their conversation. Each of them sat a thousand miles from the other.
Continue reading The Spider
“Don’t believe everything you read.” Pitter patter. Rain dots the windowsill. I lick and leaf the page. Why wouldn’t I believe every word? When I read, the same voice that I think with speaks the very words I am reading. I am only repeating thoughts inside my own head, letting them wriggle their way in, letting them play and tingle with the spindling hairs curled in my pink-knots, where the memories are.
They should instead say: “Don’t believe everything you think.” That would be far more honest. People are happier to believe a book than to believe their own thoughts. A book puts thoughts in order. Thinking day-to-day twists thoughts apart, and shows contradiction, seeds and stems. The crystalline kush is the book. Reading sedates you.
Continue reading Yung Lord Krishna’s Tooth
1.) The universe is a process
2.) This process is the ‘becoming’ of soul
3.) Human beings have one foot in the world of soul, but remain mostly in matter
4.) History moves in cycles, and time is accelerating these cycles
5.) Awareness of cycles, and consciously rejecting them, is how soul creates itself out of matter
Continue reading 21st Century Symphony Manifesto
By Alex Blum
We are the conquerors of nature, the masters of materiality
And yet we will be destroyed by our own mastery
Climate change is this very reckoning, endemic to our nature
The very fuel we burn to survive will seal our own destruction
The means of industry ensure its own demise, it is the snake swallowing its own tail
Will we gag on it?
Continue reading 27 Intuitions
By Alex Blum
Fires stains the soul, the demon-soaked world
Haunt rises from the bodies, amassed at the throne of God
He smiles, the lows of demonology alight in His mind
The guilty throne abides by power alone, no ethic to find
Fire and fury are the tools of the devil, pure annihilation is the way of God
The devil steals, God just destroys
The bellowing Demiurge rises through the heavens, grotesque form ascending
Cynical mask against white clouds.
Continue reading Christ Returns to Heaven
By Alex Blum
Bloodstained Sophia was poised before the silver moon, to blame for the world of matter. Pregnant she stood, beside the world that was cast in her shadow, a universe filled with demons, and in its deepest abyss, in the expanse of deepest darkness, farthest from the light, there was a world that held life.
A pygmy lived upon it. A pygmy, the lowest of all souls, in possession of its own unique and fragile magic. Slithering up from the ocean as slime, the place of the frail pygmy was to inherit the kingdom of consciousness. The imagination, the mind’s eye, created oceans and demons so vast that the physical world could not hold them. The world of creation, the inner world of soaring angels, fire and monsters, palaces and deep seas, the cold and the dark…this was the world of God. This was the world bestowed unto the pygmy, unto the slime which became reptile, the reptile which became ape and the ape which became man. Through the light of evolution, the pygmy was to become greater than the very light which spawned it.
Continue reading Sophia’s Prelude
By Alex Blum
The snowy courtyard stood before the church, at the edge of a cliff. A steel black fence lined the perimeter, and each pike ended in a fearsome tip. White smoke billowed from the church, past its bell tower, into the misty sky.
A man stood in the snow, dressed all in white. Ebon hair flowed past his shoulders, and his fingers tingled with discomfort.
“Turn away from here,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “There is nothing for you here.”
Four figures walked through the courtyard, wearing hoods and robes, leaving shallow footprints in the snow.
One of them cracked a smile.
He pushed away his hood, revealing a head of long golden hair.
“If you want to kill me,” said the ebon-haired priest. “Then you will become a corpse. My last rite will be to defeat you, to defend this church.”
His eyes were gray steel.
“This is where a God will be born,” he continued. “If you interfere, then you will be testing the mettle of all creation.”
Continue reading Theophany