Of the Blackening

You’ve seen memes that portray what it looks like. The half-dead stick figure surrounded by his drugs and books, seeming to rot on the floor in some sort of useless self-torture, clearly in the first stages of the alchemical magnum opus (that cracks me up, the drama of it, but it’s like that), the Blackening, the decomposition of Prime Matter…now, let me tell you what that all means.

I’m giving away a tiny piece of my occult book for free right now. Title? You don’t get to know that. Not yet. It’s too bloody good.

The Blackening is the Decomposition of Prime Matter. The Prime Matter is whatever karma you’ve accrued previous to beginning this process. That makes it sounds like there’s special shit you have to do, but there isn’t…not unless you consider tearing your life into pieces to be special somehow. That is, however, the reason why someone like me would bother with this process. The Prime Matter—the First Material—that’s you when you begin the process. Everything shitty you ever did comes back to slap you in the face, it comes, and it comes hard, drowning you in the jizz-custard of your own stupid mistakes. You will have the ugliest thoughts and have to resist them. You realize that everything about the way you were living was, if not dead wrong, at least utterly fucked. If you don’t want to blow your head off, you have no choice but to handle the rot and face the Blackening.

This is when most people begin to think they’re possessed. They don’t have the wherewithal to understand how it happening. It’s not so much that demons are evil, more so that you yourself are haughty. Foolish. Unprepared. Most people, at this point, run for the church. A priest. It takes a special person to just sit in it and behave while all these hallucinations play hell with their psyche. You won’t get my whole experience until the book is finished, but I will say that, after a shitty first experience and a whole lot of Abramelining unto the light (that’ll make sense if you’re an occultist), I found myself working within an etheric prison system—demiurgic—and, well, long story short, I knew it was time to go back into the beginning of the process and work again with the darkness. This is the Ain Soph Aur—when you realize that the dark is really the light and figure out how to deal with it. Most don’t. They just goth out and join the Satanists.

It’s funny, because they hail Satan when really, they should be hailing Lucifer if they’re going to hail what is not themselves. Satan is YOU in Satanism, not a separate being. It is the Southern Star. It is a Title, and not a Name, and you take on that adversarial aspect when you perform Satanic magic. Adversary against not God specifically, but against the disgusting bastardization into utter ungrateful tyranny that Christianity tends to be. I know they’re not all that way, but the ones who are far, far outweigh the ones who aren’t, and you’ll just have to forgive me if I find it scornful. Not the Christ Consciousness—that’s a thing I seek—not the beatitudes of Yeshua Ben Joseph—the religion the Swine have made out of all of that. That is what I despise, not Christ. And if this prophet did indeed beg Pilate to kill him as the gospels proclaim, I can’t help but agree with the Satanists—that was one of the most thankless, bullshit moves ever moved in history. Why the fuck would you do that? Crazed. That’s why. He thought he could pull a Vishnu. “Look! I’m your son! Save me from the cross!” The HGA ritual does a similar thing.

And, like Vishnu, he heard the same thing…rebuke.

Check out Sadhguru Exclusive for further details on the records the Indians have of Yeshua and his crew. They’ve got them. No one wants to listen, they’d rather believe a fairy story, but nonetheless, the records exist.

Back to the Blackening.

When you begin to feel these things—you may not know them, and if you don’t, you’ll become hateful to all things light. It’s hard to deal with,. It will exacerbate everything that’s wrong with you. It will make you depressed, angry, and misbehaving. A Satanist will tell you just gotta ground your shit, man, which is about the most useless teaching I’ve ever heard. Ground your shit. What the fuck does that mean? It means you have to behave, keep calm, and know who you are. This way, when your thoughts get full of ideas like the ones outlined in Behemoth’s Ov My Herculean Exile, you’ll stay silent and still rather than act out. And yes…those impulses do indeed fill you when you FAFO with the Black. First time out, I wasn’t ready for this and I wound up in the hospital. Now, I just laugh at the horrible, horrible word-thought that fills my skull as I allow the things I did and thought before to rot within me, to rot, that they might, like the corn of wheat, fall to the ground and bring forth much fruit. The parable of the corn of wheat is the only set of instructions you need to go through the blackening. Just know that as you fall to the ground and die, within that death…if you’re strong enough and can face it…you’ll bear much fruit.

But I shall endure new life in my agony. A quote from Adam Darski.

Also…Christians are really big on telling us that we do what they do, that is to say this bullshit: People who believe on Satan can’t go to church. They get so angry when they hear the name Jesus. Make those people wrong. It should be a solemn oath you make to yourself, to make sure the Christians are wrong about that, because they are. It is THEM, as a rule, who hate anything that isn’t them, and their Bible even encourages this. Well, my book will not encourage hate. I can listen to Billy Graham and Aleister Crowley with the same ear. I don’t all het up when my folks listen to their Bible stuff. Or when the Mormons come over, I don’t catch fire and talk shit. Nope. That’s something they would do to me if they knew what I was. Therefore, I refuse to do it back. I guess you could say I’m taking the high road for once.

Verily (LOL I had to), I am not perfect at this.

There was an angry blog last time. Yes, I took it down. I did, because I didn’t see the point in shitting on one of my favorite musicians for his frustration—I get it, most people would rather skeeze YouTube than buy records anymore, and that is hurting the artists a lot, especially these days, days in which the labels don’t pay, or blatantly rip artists off and then just be like well, you could not have a career, you goddamn fuck, or you can keep the cock in your mouth. You pick. Not much of a choice, is it? That’s how most fast food jobs treat people. Sad that it’s like that in the music industry now. I still think they should go after the companies and not the plebs. Going after plebs might be satisfying in the moment, but you’ll never get a result that way. And if you want to think I’m a pile of dog shit because I can’t buy records right now, that’s fine too.

The second reason I took it down is more important and closer to home. What I said about the apocalypse...I shouldn’t have. I don’t really wish that on people. I do have moments—that’s the blackening at work—I do have moments when I lose my empathy and want to turn on the squares and do them like they do me—you did it to yourself, Trump Voter, real genius—but I don’t want to be one of those. If I do that, I’m no better than a MAGA, promoting the pointless pleb fight. Still…what I said was true enough. If the whole thing falls apart, I won’t freak out, I’ll start making moves. When I express the things I’ve been through, and some asshole says HORT ya did it to yourself…man. I mean, do ya blame me? Do you really? Yes, I’m angry that the Republicans cries for ages about people needing to do bootstrap pullups then they cut the fucking things off of everyone. Hell yeah, I’m mad about that. That’s the paramount of hypocrisy. Our new leaders don’t give a shit about fuck. If you or I spontaneously combusted right now, they wouldn’t care unless you had a red hat on, and even then…even then.

And for those who say those things to me…man…don’t rack up debt, homeboi. You’ll find out that the banks are worse cops than the cops. I’d hate to see you under the bridge all wifeless and penniless and all the people who used to like you saying HORT! Ya did it to yerself, skidoo! 

Okay. I’m done. Explanation done, report done, it’s a little garbled, but like I said, there’s a nice, organized book on all this mess coming, so…presupposing you made this far…a better explanation is on the way.