

Libertine

Love Songs

Copyright @ 2017 Ronny Knape

All rights reserved

ISBN-10:147817403X

ISBN-13:978-1478174035

Libertine

Love Songs

# By Ronny Knape

COME THEN

Come then, employ your lofty inspiration

To carry out the poet's avocation

Just as we carry out a love affair. Two meet by chance.

Are pleased, they linger there.

Life seems propitious, adverse now

And 'tis a true romance ere one's aware.

Just such a romance let us now compose.

Plunge boldly into life,

Its depths disclose.

**FAUST** by Johann Goethe

### DEDICATION: the Celestial Hierarchy and the Western Tradition of Occult Initiation

The Secret Doctrine of All Ages

Secret societies are patterned after the mystery schools of the ancient world. The mystery schools served as centers of initiation where rites and ceremonies were performed to stimulate the new candidate to further activity within the bonds of the Order. The arcane schools of the ancient world had their seat within the temples of Greece and Egypt, Persia and India. From these centers of initiation came the doctrines concerning the nature of God, man, and the universe and from this source the traditional state religions in the present day had their inspiration. Judaism, Hinduism, Christianity; these doctrines of orthodox religions once established unto themselves as the dominate creeds and dogmas in place and time, assumed propriety over the secret and sacred teachings that preceded them and, thence resisted encroachment from any source. Ontologies not in agreement with imposed doctrines were to be assimilated or eliminated or forced underground. Gnosticism, Hermeticism, Platonism; the arts of alchemy and magic, being strange practices from the orient, were repressed because of their strangeness but more so because of their power and appeal to the people which undermined the legitimacy of sacerdotal authority and the divine right of the King to rule.

The Knights Templar

The centuries from the second century A.D. until the advent of the Crusades (approx. 1095 A.D.) were dark and barbaric times. The West, specifically, Northern Europe and the Mediterranean countries regressed from the glories of Athens and Rome to become cultural backwaters. The Crusades energized the Christian nations due to the influence of the Judaic and Islamic cultures encountered in the holy lands of Egypt, Palestine, and Arabia. The Knights Templar came to the Levant to make contact with the mystics and scholars of Islam and Judaism to effect the coming together of the three religions of the Abrahamic tradition and to promote the second coming of Jesus.

In the chambers and passages beneath the Temple Mount were relics and sacred manuscripts of the Essenes and Kabalists. Nine French knights, priests and warriors of a mystical and magical lineage, were ordained as the Order of the Knights of the Temple of Jerusalem. The founders of the Knights Templar took upon themselves a sacred obligation of fealty to God, the Order, and one another to the benefit of all mankind.

The treasure trove beneath the Temple Mount included as follows: 1. esoteric manuscripts of kabalistic origin on magic, divine astrophysics (astrology), and the nature of and how to command spirits. 2. The prayers and invocations of the Essenes, powerful and subliminal formulas and rituals of a purity approaching the divine and equal if not superior to Roman Catholic high mass, communion, baptism, and ordination of the priesthood having the authority of the source, Christ and the early Christian brotherhood. The Templar could lay claim to and authenticate Apostolic Succession, the chain of direct initiation not having been broken in secular councils and conclaves and promotion of unworthy and unqualified persons to the priesthood. Roman Catholicism is a corrupted reflection of the teachings of Christ. The Knight of the Temple is a more perfect expression of the Priest-King being an initiate of the priesthood of Melchizadek!

From these recovered documents the Knights learned the secrets of divine architecture, the laws of balance and proportion, and the science of the earth's magnetic currents for site preparation of temples of worship and initiation. These principles of art and craftsmanship would be of great benefit in the coming centuries in Europe building churches and cathedrals of unequalled grace and beauty.

On a more personal level were alchemical treatises for spiritual development detailing how to transmute personality and character from dross 'lead to pure gold!' Among the many wonderful rituals and formulae, the most significant was of the concept of the Paraclete (the Holy Ghost or 'Spirit of Truth.') This ritual presented to the Templar the 'good news' that every one of us is a son of God having the right and capacity to perceive heavenly truths without the intermediary of a priest. It is obvious why the priesthood resisted the encroachment of the Order on the church's presumptive preeminence on spiritual matters with such alarming violence. The majesty and power of the craft stood in stark contrast to the vengeful envy of the pope and his cardinals 'pontificating' in promotion of themselves and the 'holy' Catholic Church!

The Knights Templar, upon returning to Western Europe from Jerusalem, positioned itself as rival to the Roman Catholic Church. In retaliation the church began a campaign of lies and open aggression bringing dishonor to those of the craft. The enmity between the church and the craft would erupt into open hostility as conflicting doctrines of faith vs. works made for bitter rivals competing for the souls of men.

Jacques DeMolay, Grand Master of the Templar

Seven hundred and two years ago Jacques DeMolay cursed pope and king from within the orifice of a slow-burning fire. His words resonated in a dire prophesy. Pope and king were dead within the year. The events of 1314 in Paris, France set the stage for the hatred that continues to the present. The Roman church and the mystical orders have deep-seated disdain one toward the other. Rosicrucian manifestos ridiculed popery deriding as superstition the dogma put forward by the Catholics who insist on blind faith and a servile obedience from the laity. Church superiors issued Papal Bulls and edicts that came down hard to put a stop to any deviance in word or deed from church doctrine. The fraternal brotherhoods of Masonic and Rosicrucian traditions remained firm in the knowledge of their gnosis as the better way, that works in the world instilling individual initiative and the strength of character coming through direct experience will win out over dogma, particularly, the doctrine that salvation comes only through faith in Jesus and the intercession of the priest.

The Catholic Inquisition broke the back of Knights Templar. Perhaps it was a just retribution when the French Revolution and the guillotine exacted tribute to avenge Jacques DeMolay's immolation in priestly blood and severed heads of king and queen! A fitting denouement it was when a brother of the Order upon the beheading of King Louis XVI leaped onto the

guillotine platform exclaiming to highest heaven and to the darkest corners of hell, "Jacque DeMolay is avenged!'

Adam Weishaupt and the Order of the Illuminati

The Order of the Illuminati was an abstruse secret society founded May 1, 1776 by Adam Weishaupt. The Illuminati promulgated a revolutionary philosophy of equal rights for women and freedom from the controls imposed by despotic monarchs and dogmatic churchianity. Considered too radical and dangerous, the Illuminati were forced to disband and Weishaupt had to flee Bavaria in 1785.

Taken as they are, these points of fact, equal rights for women and freedom from controls of despotic king and Pope, are right and good! Only supporters of king and Pope would take offense. But what of Templar, Illuminati, Freemasons and Rosicrucians as they were charged as blasphemers and sexual perverts? What of Saint Joan of Arc wrongfully accused of witchcraft, tortured to get confession, then burned alive in a sadistic trial by fire? What does Pope Leo and the holy church say about it?

I am a Master Mason. I have been duly and truly prepared. I am worthy and well qualified coming under the tongue of good report. I neither stand suspended nor expelled from the Order. I know of no good reason why I should be. I have permission; yea, I am obligated to speak truthfully.

There is an ages-old struggle between 'Sons of Light' and those whose ambition and spiritual pride harden them to the suffering of the victims of their policies. Worldly power and glamour and wealth superseded honor and devotion to God when the early church joined forces with the tyrannical despots who ruled the earth. The church in Rome became the sanctioned religion empowered to anoint kings and agreeing to serve them faithfully as henchmen well positioned to ferret out apostasy and rebellion. Their service took the form of persecution and suppression. Enemies of the state were enemies of the church. Emboldened by the power, the church posed as the emissary on earth of God. The authority and legitimacy of Catholicism could not be challenged.

The tools and the techniques used by the church to force obedience from the multitudes and to maintain control were inquisitions, excommunications, witch hunts, and physical violence. The elitist nobility in collusion with a corrupted priesthood has been in power since forever! To this day we are being cunningly manipulated by those in control of our destinies. Posing as benign benefactors, state craft and priest craft have become ever more powerful and more obtrusive in our lives threatening liberty and the sanctity of self.

A peril to our very being, the enemies of mankind keep on accusing and vilifying in big shows of self-righteous indignation to confuse the issues while shifting the blame of their villainy from themselves onto whomsoever would stand against them. The future looks grim. "Is there no hope for the widow's son?"

The Moral Law

Lightfoot's _Manual of the Lodge_ gives voice to the principle of morality being the cornerstone of the lodge. In this injunction the entered apprentice is carefully instructed. He is fervently admonished that he be a just and upright Mason, that "a good moral character is a prerequisite to admission into the mysteries." The following quotations are to emphasize this central creed of morality as defining what makes a Mason:

1. "The sincere pursuit of goodness, beauty, and truth leads to God. The divine presence which any child of the universe enjoys at any given moment is limited only by the capacity of such a creature to receive and to discern the spiritual actualities of the super material world." _The Urantia Book_

2. "The inner life is predominate in the life of the superior, the 'homme du' accion.' This thinking on the inner life precludes thinking any other way." Louis Claude Saint Martin

The 'secrets' of Freemasonry (occult secrets) are to be zealously guarded. Knowledge of the astral and mental planes and the 'rites, lights, and ceremonies' of initiation are not to be divulged nor will membership be proffered unless one is found 'worthy and well qualified.' A candidate for initiation is expected to maintain proper decorum. He is not to trivialize the workings within the lodge room nor bring discredit to himself with disreputable behavior.

A petitioner for admission into the occult fraternities is rigorously tested as to intelligence and character. If found worthy in these respects, the candidate for initiation into the mysteries passes through the portals into the Temple to be further instructed that he be given 'more light.' Tests are strict. Ordeals are severe. Progress depends on receptivity to the higher vibrations of divine influx. "The man who has been duly initiated, passed, and raised in a legitimate Lodge of Freemasonry is affected physically, psychologically, and psychically."

The psychical faculties are quickened. Quickening is the signatory sign of growth into the verities of spiritual (occult) knowledge. As one's awareness becomes more sensitized to the inner planes of consciousness, he is able to 'travel to foreign countries,' the planes of desire and abstract thought. In control of his desires, keeping passions within due bounds, and able to keep his thinking focused on difficult and abstruse subjects, he becomes the master of himself and of his environment. By benefit of the rites, lights, and ceremonies of initiation, he is raised to the sublime degree of a Master Mason. Masonic principles, the teachings of Freemasonry, "become at once a part of the initiate's sub-consciousness." He is a very changed person having evolved to a higher state of being.

The Secret Doctrine is sacred. The Sacred Doctrine is the force behind human destiny. The Secret and Sacred Doctrine is a gift from the Divine Hierarchy overseeing the evolvement of all mortal destiny creatures living on these worlds making their way across the universes toward perfection.

"This shall regenerate the world, the little world my sister, unto whom I send this kiss." _The Book of the Law_ by Aleister Crowley

Catholicism: Faith in Teachings of the Church,  
the church takes upon itself the mantle of inviolability!

The following is a sampling of the harsh criticism directed toward Masonry by Papal Bulls and edicts:  
1. "Their God is the devil." Pope Leo XIII, 1884 A.D.  
2. From the Vatican, 1902 A.D. "Its own statutes (Freemasonry) declare for the destruction of civil authority and the Christian priesthood as the foes of human liberty."  
3. From the Vatican, November 26, 1983 "Our negative judgment in regards to Masonic associations is unchanged. (The beliefs of Freemasonry are) irreconcilable with church doctrine. The faithful with Masonic associations are in a state of grave sin and may not receive Holy Communion."  
4. "Masons seek the suppression of the power of that divine religion. Freemasons hate and fear Catholicism."  
5. Thomas Jefferson wrote: "Arouse men to burst the chains of monkish ignorance and superstition that had persuaded them to bind themselves."  
6. Masonry: "Unrelenting warfare against Christ and his church in a battle for the soul of the American people. The threat of Catholic influence terrifies Masons."  
7. Masonry: "this foul plague!" Pope Clement XII in 1738, then Benedict XIV, Pius VI, Leo XII, Pius VII, Pius VIII, Gregory XVI, and Pius IX . . . Leo XIII (All the Popes revile Masonry.)"Rising against God himself! (Freemasonry is) planning the destruction of the holy Church!"  
8. "33rd degree Masons stomp on a replica of the Catholic crown and say death to Rome and other such things in their satanic rituals." (These are the words of a pope.)  
9. Jefferson: "The mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of God." (There is a philosophical war with the Church.)

The irony of the statements, the revelations in these words are more telling than anything a Masonic apologist could come up with as criticism of Catholic doctrine. Leave it to the reader to choose his way. **SO MAY IT EVER BE**

### Acknowledgements

The Ancient Free and Accepted Masonic Order The Rosicrucian Order

The Martinist Order

The Corps of Finaliters

Knowledge and Conversation,

Holy Guardian Angel

Thought Adjuster

Laetitia

### Contents

"Libertine Love Songs" is a collection of poesy, prosody, and prose concerning luminance, scandalous acts, longing, death, and redemption.

"Adam and Eve" contains two poems and a narrative that give the particulars of the fall from grace and the expulsion from the Garden.

"The Spirit in Search of Experience" is a fairy tale of romance and adventure.

"The Dream, A Vision" presents the projections from the unconscious of the dreamer in symbolic form.

"Lay Me Down, Down, Down; Lay Me Down So Low" is set in the tropical city of Merida in the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico. A woman fallen into disrepute has a chance at redemption but the world's harsh criticism breaks the spell and love's enchantment.

"The Forlorn Warrior, a misspent incarnation" is a treatise of occult doctrine. Reincarnation, karma, trance, unclean spirits, angelic guidance, and the psyche in love relations are of the subjects discussed. The information presented to the reader is accurate. The information is relevant to our world, "a world of chaos and strife," where black magicians wage class warfare with impunity in a campaign of subversion seeking to undermine the common good.

"libertine love songs"

And It Came To Pass

The Fall

Ode to Angel of the Night

A Black Night in Nuevo Laredo

Illusion

Nothing Matters

Streets of Gold

Kansas Bitch

Surcease of Sorrow

The Treasure

Constantinople

The Journey

Masked the Million Eyes the Stars

NYC Monster

An Astral World Impression

Suffer Now or Suffer Later

His Wife

Her Husband

First Love

Marriage of the World

7 Minutes = 420 Seconds

In the Trenches of War and Love

Death Sweet Mistress

Death Sweet Mistress, reprise

A Junkie's Prayer, the dream of God's son

First Orison

21st Century Blues

The Bornless One, a magical spell

New Jerusalem

Even Little Sister, she has no breasts

Paean to Young Girls

Uncle Dutch

Jesse

My Recorded Magic

### Chapter One

"Libertine Love Songs"

and it came to pass

And it came to pass:  
Jesus has been dead 2000 years.  
Everyone is so chic  
Living in the 21st century . . .  
It is cool to live by one's instincts,  
Trusting one's passions  
Living for the moment,  
Loving in equal shares  
The heroes and the beggars alike.  
Squeezing and coddling,  
All the same, all in vain.  
For as Mary Magdalena saw  
Washing Jesus' feet.  
Jesus is human.  
Magdalena says to him,  
"Josef the camel herder is real sexy."  
So Mary Magdalena kissed his feet  
Confessing all.

Jesus forgave her.  
Yet, as she knelt washing his feet,  
He suffered.

And it came to pass:  
Mary Magdalena came the third day.  
She saw his body vanished.  
She ran exclaiming, "Christ has risen!  
Only then did she come to know her Lord.

THE FALL

The world is morose  
For the brave youth  
Devil in his eye  
Sadness in his heart.  
Where is she?  
The beloved for whom he longs?  
Shall he never again kiss the memory of his soul?  
Never again with her to lay  
Unleashing his passion, uncalculating,  
Renewing in death?  
"I have fallen from a star.  
In the Abyss, I stand looking up  
Remembering my Goddess  
And the golden eternity of her kiss.

ODE TO ANGEL OF THE NIGHT

In the late night dark, my nerves zing and thrill. I am entranced. I cannot believe what is happening to me! Half way to heaven's promised bliss, her kiss, I come to a rude awakening. She slips away into the darkness. The spell is broken. The magic is gone. I am alone. The thrill is now an empty feeling of disappointment. My excitement has proven to be founded on fantasy. I feel cheated by her fallow and fancy falseness though she has taught me a valuable lesson. She has taught me how, final and forever, the frenzy of a fool is foredoomed!

A BLACK NIGHT IN NUEVO LAREDO

Omens of things to come: the highway winding through the sage, tarantulas, single and in pairs, a rattlesnake dead on the asphalt, and a bloody sun downing to usher in a black night in Nuevo Laredo.

My soul is bottled, labeled, measured out in shot glasses. My soul is consumed.

I was with raunchy 'India Juana de la Zona Rosa' this morning before dawn. She came up to me in the path leading away from the clubs and she took me to her hovel where she got down and dirty. I gotta tell the truth! I knew what was happening. I can't pretend it was just a dream. Nor can I excuse myself saying I was drunk even though I was out of my head crazy from tequila and sleaze.

Her soulless performance left me depressed. I got up, found my jeans, and got away from there. Then, I stumbled in the dark and fell down. I was so wasted I couldn't even get up. I just laid there until I passed out.

Charley Vickers came along looking for me. He was worried because I was so out of it but, when he found me he laughed at me and made fun of me saying any fool should know better than that! He told me I looked like garbage lying there. He said he thought about leaving me to teach me a lesson. He got me up, dusted me off, and took me back to Texas.

I went over to Mexico looking for a good time. I wanted to get with a Mexican whore, dance and party, then, go to her room. Just the usual Friday night in Boys Town! I got to slamming tequila. What happened after that was nothin' nice!

India Juanita de la Zona Rosa could not care less about me. Like a parasitic opportunist she hemmed me in and suckered me for $40. I paid her money to violate my body. She took my money and then she sent me straight to hell!

ILLUSION

Illusion abounds  
Permeates all matter with shadow  
Distorting truth  
Truth is concealed by veils  
Veil of Time  
Veil of Space  
Eternity and infinity  
Faceless

NOTHING MATTERS

Then come the days, **  
**Nothing matters; neither body nor soul. **  
**Life is a streaming, glazed sensation. **  
**Pleasure and pain mean nothing. **  
**Passion belongs to the past. **  
**No longer desires this atrophied body. **  
**Love and beauty are memories  
Of a vapid soul.  
Yet will come a day, **  
**(So the wisest ones say,) **  
**Body and soul together **  
**Transcend this world of nothingness **  
**To a world of substance **  
**Perchance finding meaning **  
**Where none has been before.

STREETS OF GOLD

They say, you say, we say,  
I see, you see, he sees,  
Me soaring, deploring, exploring,  
Ignoring, abhorring,  
Wishing . . . !  
Someday, some way. Wake up.  
No pain. Ever again!  
As in days of old, streets of gold.  
Blue heaven above,  
Sweet earth below.

KANSAS BITCH

The memory of his time with her was always with him. Days stretched into weeks and the weeks into months. All this time her image haunted him, taunting him. Gradually, a plain and silly girl from Kansas was transformed. She would appear to him as an evanescent vision of such loveliness! She would come to him and she would beckon to him sweetly, enticingly. Then, she would turn nasty. As a fanged she-devil, she haunted him, taunting him with these words: "I do not love you anymore."

SURCEASE OF SORROW

These days, these nights  
All seems lost.  
Hope is gone.  
Poor children!  
Bear up to the strain.  
Endure the pain  
And surcease from sorrow,  
A balm to Heart's sores  
Will come.  
Just do as you must,  
Never to betray trust.  
For as you are, so will you view the world.

THE TREASURE

Upon opening the box  
My eyes behold a treasure.  
To see is to know.  
Follow the instinctual, intuitive self.

CONSTANTINOPLE

Table that before me bore death  
Room where I sat aware  
Four walls stare back at me  
I hear the scream of centuries of pain  
Life and Sun and Moon and Star  
Venus glows forevermore  
On a world going nowhere  
Forever and again

THE JOURNEY

The sun wends its westerly way.  
Dusk deepens, a violet hue,  
Heralding the close of the day.  
Shadow falls obscuring the view.  
A babe is borne in Mother's arms,  
Early morning, all fresh and new.  
Now a youth paces, lithe and strong.  
It is midday. So much to do!  
There a man hurries down the road  
Toward his home. The hour is late.  
Progress is slow with heavy load.  
Night on the road will be his fate.  
Look to the east at break of day.  
The sun's light guides you on your way.

MASKED THE MILLION EYES THE STARS

Wind whipped clouds cloud the moon;  
Masked the million eyes the stars  
On the night of our joining.

Writhing and moaning through the night.  
We mate at dawn.

Wind whipped clouds cloud the moon;  
Masked the million eyes the stars  
On the night our child is born.

Wicked eyes and scowling lips,  
Lo, our child is born.

Wind whipped clouds cloud the moon;  
Masked the million eyes the stars  
Tonight our sin has come home.

We crush the skull of the demon!  
We bury him in the night.

Wind whipped clouds cloud the moon;  
Masked the million eyes the stars  
On the night of our cursing.

Cursed are we and unholy.  
Our sins have been brought to light.

Woe to heaven!  
Woe to earth!  
Woe to all!

N Y C MONSTER

N Y C monster,  
So tall and hard,  
Jutting and piercing the gentle sky;  
Heaven is death.  
It is cold and I wish, I wish,  
I WISH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ......

Take me up, stifled and choking,  
Up the stairs to the stars.  
Bless me Mother, Father.  
I am your child.

AN ASTRAL WORLD IMPRESSION

As it were to be hype and nothing more, we decided to go uptown to look at the temples, one against the other, in line, two rows, arranged perfectly, solid and reliable, steel and stone, and towering dark over corrupting flesh.

My companion and I tried to explain it to ourselves for a while. We tried to explain it to each other for a while, always thinking to ourselves, "That's not quite it!" So, we take a cab back to where we just came from looking for a place to sit down away from the 'Eye.' We were looking for a place we could pull ourselves together, a place we could pray.

"Oh, God! Help me! Oh, God! Help me!"

I stare into the mirror. My blood engorges every cell. My thoughts aspire, despair in a never-ending sequence of hope and regret.

"Don't you know? Do you not realize that I am a living Son of the One True God? I can heal the sick, calm the waters, and feed the multitudes. I will change the water into vintage wine. I am ordained and when the time is ripe, I will ascend to my Father in Heaven. I do all this and more, projecting images from my heart and soul. I know the Mystery of Woman. Sophia is my Bride. I know the Father. Alpha and Omega, I am the Eternal Now!

"Not really! I just pretend to be special. I dream and I make believe! This is the truth about me: When I am frightened, I cry out for mommy to pick me up and wrap me in her arms to protect me. Feeling comforted and secure, I smile meekly to myself. I know my weaknesses.

"When I grow up, I will be brave. When I am big, I will be a hero! When I grow up . . ."

"When he grows up? You'd think the little dude was grown!"

It would be real nice to sleep right here on this bench or over there in the grass. Just fall out unconscious. Only, the anguished screaming of centuries of horror and pain is ringing in my ears. I probably wouldn't sleep and if I did close my eyes and drift off to sleep I am afraid I might wake up and be in New York in the 21st century.

"It is dawn! Dark gives way to light. Melancholia slumbers when darkness creeps into its crevices. Up everybody! Everybody has to get up! Children, grandchildren, up! Open your eyes and see!"

Maybe I won't get up. Lying here is luxury. I stretch languorously, yawning and dozing. Today is as nothing to me.

Daylight forces my eye to open. My head from beneath the pillow peers into gloom. Panned laughter irritates me. The light's glare infuriates me. Memory arouses me. Fully awake, I envision last night's action as I remember who I am.

"Hi! Remember me? I'm back. You said something about money for sex . . . Just for the record, do I pay you or do you pay me? Well, do you still want to get laid?"

"I am hard and insistent. I find myself probing for the womb. If I can just get it in everything will work out fine! If I can just . . . Oh! Oh! Catch me! I am flying! Oh! Oh! Home!"

It is fully daylight. Good night has become good morrow. Memory has stolen my pensiveness. I get up only because I must begin the drudgery called living again . . .

There she is in the line of ticket holders waiting to board the plane for the flight home. She is real cute. She pirouettes, primps, and keeps looking sideways at me trying to catch me checking her out. I pass her in the aisle brushing against her standing there fiddling with her baggage. She follows me down the aisle toward the business class seats. I take the window seat so I can look out the porthole.

I see her there. She smiles coyly and she sits down. She is right there! Only the vacant seat between us keeps us from touching.

What shall I do? Buy her a drink? I shall not as she orders her own, a Scotch. There she is! She smells really good! She is dressed in mauve. She has really nice breasts! She is so very seductive.

So, what do I do?

I fluff my pillow. I close my eyes. I have had a tiresome day after a disaster of a night and all the phoniness pains my soul. I never even glance her way. I turn my head so she cannot see my face. I close my eyes. Darkness settles as I slip into unconsciousness. I am 29,000 feet high, asleep.

Money is an illusion.

Power is an illusion.

Success is an illusion.

Back down to earth, the present moment slips into eternity. The sun has died a fiery death. Night has signaled the end of another episode of the unfolding saga recounting events in the history of earth and one of the countless multitudes of insignificant souls who, by happenstance, creep and slither about down here. This particular soul, the hero of this episode of the saga of earth's history, has a mild distemper causing him to scratch his head in questioning as to why and how and when and where. He wants to know what has made the world as it is and what has brought us here to dwell. Solipsism that he exists and that nothing else can be known for certain, he rejects this rationale as a cop out. He probes the recesses of his brain and has an epiphany. His gut instinct is to reject out of hand the skepticism and pessimism of atheists and materialists. The reflections of these moments engender a desire to begin an intensive study into the mysteries. As a neophyte, the first thing he must do, faithfully and sincerely, he must swear a solemn oath to that which is highest and grandest within him. Then, if found worthy and well qualified, he will be given permission to pass through the portal of initiation for further instruction into the mysteries.

Cause precedes subsequent events. The first cause initiates the moment of creation. All events unfold thereafter. One can only speculate as to the nature of the Thrones and Powers that made the Universes. Science is confined in its investigations to the material world. Scientific theory must be mindful of the Laws and Principles of the natural world. Disregard of natural law draws one's investigation into the realm of chimera and delusion. Science does not venture beyond the singularity of creation and its cause(s). Only philosophers and pompous fools stumble upon black hole vortices and big bangs!

Our feeble minds can only scratch around in the rubble and the ruins of all that has gone down since the moment of creation. Someone states the obvious, distorts the truth, deletes and excludes pertinent data in conformity to established academic dogma to gain peer acceptance and a lucrative career. Natural law: physics, biology, chemistry, mathematics, medicine, science, the humanities, history, psychology, philosophy, sociology, ethics, culture and the individual, local, national, and world news and current events, public personalities, celebrities still alive, famous people long dead, material and objective reality. Very uncommon in this world of falseness and vanity are the real and true men and women whose goodness and godliness supersede the phony ways of the world and its weak-willed sell-outs who bow down in servility to a parasitic class of reptilian, anal, and effete elitists who hoard the wealth and oppress the poor and stupid underclass weaving a web of deceit. . .

We are, all of us, being cunningly manipulated and lied to! This has been going on for a long time. We have given the sophists and the spin artists power over every aspect of our lives. We gave up the sanctity of self for the security of the herd. We have ceded the earth's bounty to them and let them do as they please. Only by reclaiming our divine heritage that is our right and responsibility and to begin again to think for ourselves, will this darkness pass.

We must overcome our fixation on materialism and the allurement of the glamour of status and wealth. We must explore the numinous aspects of the psyche and of consciousness. Being . . . The power to be . . . The tendency to be . . . !

We are the creatures of a divine creator. This makes us special! Every mother's son is special!

Being begins at birth. We are born to woman who suffers at our birth. Her suffering is a universal condition for women. Moreover, it is the human condition that we, every one of us, must suffer. We are separated from our core being. This condition of separation has stripped humanity of knowledge of his true identity. Ignorance and isolation has condemned the race to wander about the face of the earth in utter, pathological dissociation. Fulfillment eludes us unto the bitter end when looming mortality becomes an horrific obsession. Death brings vermin infested decay and dissolution.

That's it? There is no more to existence than this? Who among us knows? No one knows much of anything. I will admit from the beginning, I do not know anything other than what I have been taught and these folkways are not reliable. I may feign knowledge. I may desperately want there to be more to life than birth, death, and the inexorable procession of the ages. But bitter truth is harsh and decisive. The evidence clearly shows time reduces everything to nothing. Look around! Everything changes. Nothing stays the same. All things holy and good? Nothing! Legendary heroes? Dead!

All this pomp going on all around us is vanity. Our world is an illusion. Striving after social standing and its rewards makes no sense. Even the greatest among us will soon be covered over by dirt. We accord the newly dead a few hollow words and fake tears. Very soon the person is forgotten!

I say, "There must be a hidden agenda. Give me a secret sign that tells more than this tale of vanity in pointless living to die and be forgotten forever!"

Nihilism, that life is pointless and human values are worthless, leaves me empty. It is better for me to think of something of cheer, even if I have no good reason to think this way. So, I hang on to a strand of rope in a vain hope that this thread might forestall the inevitable descent into disillusion and despair. That is why I like to talk about streets of gold and the Pearly Gates and keeping the beatific in focus and not letting it fall away in not believing.

The Pearly Gates are the Gates into Heaven. The Pearly Gates are pear-shaped. They are shaped like a pear. They are named Pearly Gates because of the shape. The figure of a woman is also like a pear.

That's it! This is the secret sign telling more than a tale of vanity! The entry into Heaven is through the Pearly Gates! By virtue of the divine Law of Correspondences, I have deduced universal truth! "To being there is no beginning."

It is Mother who carries us to delivery into this world. She delivers us at birth. It follows to reason that it be her duty and sacred privilege also to carry us in her loving arms from the clutches of the Reaper into the empyrean. This explains why we hold her so dear!

It all begins to make sense, but, sense is a vapor dispersing into thin air! Wait! There must be meaning, a truth that will keep me and make me whole!

We worship Woman in life. We adore Woman in death. She procures our deliverance. It is she who brings purpose to fill the emptiness of desultory existence! Now I got it all figured out!

When I die the body of a voluptuous woman will carry me to paradise! Embracing this image, the body of a voluptuous woman, I place her at her symbolic station. She is the eternally beloved. She is the awe inspiring guardian of the threshold.

Reverently, I place her before the Pearly Gates. I know that as she is consecrated and made holy by my thoughts and devotions, she will be true!

Heavenly truths are exclusively for those who dare to know, to will, and to be silent. I am sworn to secrecy that I never disclose spiritual verities to the uninitiated. I am never to divulge Secret Doctrine to those who are unworthy and unqualified being not in the proper position to receive it. But everyone, even the profane dissemblers, wants to know and needs to know the answer to the question of how and why and when and where.

I am compelled to divulge this truth to the world! To those that hear and hearing understand, the secret that answers the riddle of life and will solve all your problems is to affirm the highest and the grandest of ideals. These high ideals will lead the way!

Simple words, profound truths! Even if the world is still in the dark it is clear to me and I know what to do and I know where my baby will be waiting. I know where to find her. She will be waiting for me outside the Pearly Gates. My girl is sexy and she will be waiting for me outside the Pearly Gates and she will be true to her promise. She will be waiting for me and she will be true to her promise to carry me. She will be true to her promise to carry me all the way to paradise.

SUFFER NOW OR SUFFER LATER

Suffer now or suffer later  
For thoughts and deeds and hopes  
Of the past and present.  
Or, cease to suffer  
For those things that one can never change.

One has a choice;  
To laugh or smile or cry, to live or die,  
To wish and sigh and hope against hope;  
Or, merely to be.

Spilled milk, water under the bridge, lost lover?  
Why suffer?  
Yet endures the cow, the cloud, and the seed.  
All is not lost in death and decay.  
All is not gained in birth and growth.  
All is . . . No more . . . Change . . . No less.

Suffer now or cease to suffer.  
There is no pain for one who knows;  
For the one who sees the truth.

HIS WIFE

Honeysuckle blonde and skin of olive  
And eyes a piercing deep green blue,  
As she flashes;  
A slate grey as she moans  
A woman's insensible deep grievous moan.  
A little girl has grown up.  
All is well,  
As sultriness wells up within  
And deep caverns pulsate and flow  
And lithe limbs open wide.

HER HUSBAND

Silent, brooding, dark and mysterious  
Sly, shy, sigh . . .  
Honeysuckle blonde delightful!  
Full.  
Complete.  
Finis.

FIRST LOVE

High above earth, soaring on the wind, heavenward. Earth is a golden green and blue sphere. The sun is glory and joy . . . Soaring on a wind borne cloud . . .

Her bounteous lips, a drop of moisture enshrines her lip. It clings to the lower lip looking as a pearl would. Her sparkling eyes shine love and goodness. His head is cradled in her arms. His mouth nurses at her swelling breasts. Her breasts flow with a holy virgin's milk. Heavenly truths and heavenly righteousnesses rain down hard all over his body. Their arms embrace and hold tight one another. Thighs, hips, and bellies are pressed together and lips touch. They breathe in unison. They breathe as one and time stands still.

Stillness is prelude to the explosion of the primordial universe. A universe of infinitesimal particles speeds and careens in every dimension. A single particle breaks free from the totality to enter her womb. His essence penetrates the void.

Everything is now blissful and pure. Sound embellishes crystalline and pure. The air is fragrant with rose and jasmine, roses and cinnamon, sandalwood and myrtle, saffron and myrrh and hyssop and olive and galangal. A sublime glow affixes the chamber where they lay in glory. Glorious and golden and rosy light bathes to purify the world. The world is getting a good cleaning. This wreck of a world stands ready to be transfigured and transformed by their rapture. If they proclaimed to the cynical world they had been touched by God and were now spiritual creatures, would the world believe them? For the moment they are utterly lost in their happiness. They are floating away to an eternal resting place reserved only for lovers.

It had seemed like it would last forever! But, a moment is just a moment after all is said and done and no 'thing' endures beyond its time.

The Spell of Blissful First Love is the Trance of Sorrow. The Trance of Sorrow is the Curse of Lovers. The Law of Contradiction, all powerful, obligates the change. This is why mortal love will never pass the test of time; why nothing, no matter how beautiful, will last forever!

"Our virgin huntress inspires in her ascendancy. When she no longer fulfills her natural functions she becomes the Hag. The crone is Queen of Despair."

Cruel, cruel, so cruel is love. Better never to have known love! Better I never met you. Bitter words spoken so true!

MARRIAGE OF THE WORLD

This love has gone by.  
My love is not here.  
She has decided to fly,  
Neglecting to cheer  
As she tickles any;  
She tickles all with her smile.

It is free to those who pay.  
Everyone must pay  
And a mortal love must die.

True love goes by,  
No glance my way,  
A ship in the distance,  
No fond remembrance.  
Farewell to love.  
Adieu to death's decay.

**7 MINUTES = 420 SECONDS

**Venus, morning star, full moon  
Angelic etheric influence  
Awaiting re-entry into the evolutionary current.

Through the looking glass + -,  
1. 2. 3.

Back and forth (to and fro)  
Sufficient to catalyze a thought process.  
Divergent, confluent,  
Coming together, drifting apart.

'A portly gentleman I see  
A little on the dense side.  
Yet he is able to transform in a mind flash  
To another and another  
Or another, with power to convey  
Sense to a Sensor.' **  
**Diamond  
Forehead Star  
Prescience + -,  
1. 2. 3.

IN THE TRENCHES OF WAR AND LOVE

A war must be fought daily.  
Battles, with the tide  
Ebbing this way,  
Flowing back again,  
Away.  
Planting in the midst  
Of this wreck of a world  
Confusion and deception.  
The rule and order of the day  
Is to pay obeisance to untruth;  
Mouthing glories and praises to false symbols,  
Perverted sigils of the one true Way.  
And Glory is trodden down.  
The Lie!  
Implanted at the very root and soul  
Of these very human children,  
Victims of their own designs;  
They reject the power and the glory  
To emblazon disgrace and mockery  
Into their protective shields.  
In jest, they go laughing.  
They say, "No way  
Will this disgrace follow me down . . ."  
Down to the bridal chamber;  
The promise of peaceful slumbers,  
Rejuvenation, regeneration,  
Birth and creation . . .  
Horrors, terrific specters of our follies  
Surmount us.  
We have sullied the bridal chamber  
With the filth of our vulgarities.  
We have missed the Virginal Bride.  
Shocked and repulsed, she scorns our way.  
We are compelled to go on alone.

DEATH SWEET MISTRESS

Death sweet mistress, embrace me.  
This night of nights, this world of worlds  
Is bitter, is sweet.  
Death sweet mistress, embrace me.  
I have seen you. I never recognized you 'til now.  
Death, sweet mistress, embrace me.  
Come swiftly, mercifully.

DEATH SWEET MISTRESS, reprise

Death sweet mistress, embrace me.  
This night of nights, this world of worlds  
Is bitter, is sweet.  
Death sweet mistress, embrace me.  
I have seen you. I never recognized you 'til now.  
Death sweet mistress, embrace me.  
Come swiftly, mercifully.  
Come to me and I will be your lover!  
Come to me and I will be your lover forever!  
Come to me and I will be your lover forever and ever!  
And ever and ever and ever! Say it again! One more time!

A JUNKIE'S PRAYER, the dream of God's son

"Get off your ass!  
Get me my hypodermic syringe,  
You fat, white-assed slut!"  
Wake up from a dream to realize,  
It was just a dream! It was just a dream.  
Once and for all time, to realize, it is just a dream!  
It is just a dream.  
"Get off your ass.  
Get me my hypodermic syringe,  
You fat, white-assed slut!"  
We've awakened from dreaming beautiful dreams  
Into a world of the living, a wretched world,  
To realize we are still dreaming.  
All this pain and sorrow?  
It is a dream. It is just a dream!  
"Get off your ass.  
Get me my hypodermic syringe,  
You fat, white-assed slut!"  
Go to sleep and dreaming;  
Awake to life. Still dreaming?  
Asleep? Awake? Living? Dreaming?  
It is all the same, the same!  
It is all the same.  
"Come here. Kiss me. I am sorry!  
But, I told you to get off your ass.  
Get me my hypodermic syringe.  
I am dying for a shot!"  
This life we are living is just a dream.  
Life is just a dream.  
"I am dying! Help me with this shot.  
Oh! Yes! Now I feel good!  
Come here! Kiss me! Hold me! Love me forever!"  
This life we are living is just a dream.  
Life is just a dream.

FIRST ORISON

Lord, be with me.  
Thank you for your many blessings.  
Forgive me for my sins.  
Send your holy angels to guide me.  
Bless and protect me.  
I am your child.  
Naughty or nice.  
I am your child.

**21** ST **CENTURY BLUES**

Lurking, the ever-present danger, as the twenty first century has come and mankind has, in a limited way, rediscovered aspects of his spiritual being only to fall victim to those spiritually perverse entities that loom large in his newly expanded field of vision. Perverse entities, not creatures like we are, but more like aggregates of unwholesome desires, co-inhabit the astral world, the world of emotion and desire. These tramp spirits preside at indulgences of our collective sin bodies. In normal states of mind, men are unaware of these presences and of the influence such as these have over weak-willed and unsuspecting people. This benign co-existence can change to a chaotic living hell if the psychic centers are forced open prematurely. Think of little, new-born kittens having the protective eyelids ripped open. The ripping mechanisms that bring about susceptibility to the unwholesome influences of the astral tramps are unnatural psychic activities like the involuntary medium-ship practiced at séances, occult experimentation in disregard of proper banishing and purification rituals, breathing techniques of advanced yogic disciplines without knowing what you are doing, and foremost, use of psychotropic drugs that are capable of affecting the mind. Potential off-shoots of these activities are broken health, shattered morale, mental disquiet, even insanity! Picture in your mind allegorical denizens of hell waiting on their prey; waiting to strike, manipulate, overwhelm, to possess and control . . . And to think these forces are mere imaginings and the real world does not work this way when we have seen their twisted and distorted forms come over our brothers and sisters and in our own reflection in the mirror! Our passions and desires can rule us. Our scattered thoughts can beguile and deceive us, especially, when we swoon in sensual abandonment. Yet, the power of the will made strong by truth and knowledge and purified by pain and suffering, holds dominion over unclean spirits and the destiny of human will is to assert its power and exercise divine right to hold dominion on the earth and in the spirit. Peace, love, beauty, and goodness shall be the rule and order "long awaited of the nations" when mankind remembers how things were before the 'fall' and aspires to a heightening of consciousness through sublimation and regeneration. Meanwhile, here is a little spell to use on those long, dark, lonely nights when you might have had a little too much of the magical elixir and are not quite feeling like yourself. You keep getting a shudder up your spine. You see movement in the corner of your eye, and the tap, tap, tapping sound is coming closer and closer and all of a sudden, everything turns icy cold, the TV comes on all by itself as the howling wind takes on a demonic pitch. Better do something, anything, or go stark, raving mad. Recite this spell while moving clockwise in a circle. Clap your hands as hard as you can five times. Stomp your right foot on the floor as hard as you can five times. Say your daddy's name out loud five times. Then, take two aspirins and go to bed.

THE BORNLESS ONE, a magical spell

"Hear me, and make all spirits subject unto me: so that every spirit of the firmament and of the ether; upon the earth and under the earth: on dry land and in the water: of whirling air and of rushing fire: and every spell and scourge of God may be obedient unto me."

NEW JERUSALEM

Begin.  
Though tentative still,  
Begin.  
Tarry no more in the dismal way.  
Embark.  
Voyage to that distant country,  
The land of dreams.  
Lift above the billowing sails.  
Look into the distance  
And see that sparkling city.  
Look within and see  
The ship, thy body, and the way.  
Tarry no longer.  
The course is true.  
Fear no longer.  
The way is true.  
The joy is in thy going.  
Go here. Go there.  
It matter not where.  
Here or there.  
It matter not where.

**EVEN LITTLE SISTER,** **she has no breasts**

Even little sister,  
Though she has no breasts,  
Is in love with the hero.  
And when she has breasts  
She will return  
That he might see her with breasts.  
Even little sister  
Is his baby girl, too.  
And when she has breasts,  
He shall take her as bride.

When she said  
"I love you a lot, daddy,"  
She meant to say she loved him a lot.  
When she looked to see him  
And kept her eye on him,  
She meant to say she loved him a lot.

**PAEAN TO YOUNG GIRLS**

Don't pretend those sideways glances  
Don't portend amorous advances  
Forward toward love.  
The Achilles heel; weakest part of man . . .  
The seduced is the seducer  
For you have seduced me.  
A young girl's soft arched foot falls  
And touches his foot.  
A million sensate nerves  
Stir at touching.  
Her arched foot falls . . .  
The Achilles heel; weakest part of man . . .  
The seduced is the seducer  
For you have seduced me.  
Come on to me.  
Rape me.  
Do it quickly.  
Don't hurt me.  
I am virgin still.

UNCLE DUTCH

MOTHER:  
"Today would have been Dutch's 33rd birthday."  
CHILD:  
"Mother, tell me the story about Uncle Dutch and the mean ole' school teacher again! Please!  
MOTHER:  
"You love that story, don't you, son? Louise, tell him the story while I do the dishes."  
AUNT LOUISE:  
"Well, let me see. Oh, yes! Your Uncle Dutch had gotten in trouble at school. He was always in trouble of one sort or another, fighting or tearing something up. Anyway, he whipped the Thetford boy. Dutch whipped him good too! They fought all day right behind the school house in that little grove of live oaks. The teacher was a mean old thing! Old Clara Rayborn!"  
MOTHER:  
"She had it in for Dutch. When dumb Ike Thetford came in all bloody, she threw a fit. She got a log of firewood and was going to beat Dutch. Dutch took it away from her and broke her leg!"  
AUNT LOUISE:  
That was the last day we had to put up with her nonsense!" MOTHER: (laughing)  
"Dutch showed her how the cow ate the cabbage, didn't he, Louise?"  
AUNT LOUISE:  
"She never did like us Robersons much after that! Clorene, have you talked to Loquita since the Wilson Reunion?"  
MOTHER:  
"No, but I have been thinking of her a lot. If she could have had more time with him before he ran off and got shot! She could have settled him down. Didn't Loquita and Dutch have a beautiful wedding?"  
CHILD:  
"I remember that wedding! I remember Loquita's white dress!"  
MOTHER:  
"Son that was three years before you were even born!"

CHILD:  
"But, I remember! We were all there! Our whole family was there!"  
MOTHER:  
"That was before you were even born. You've just heard us talking about it so much it seems to you like you were there. Or, maybe you had a dream or something. Now, go outside and play. Let me and your Aunt Louise talk and snap these black eyed peas so we can get them canned and put up." (Child goes out the door)  
AUNT LOUISE:  
"He looks more like Clifford Dutch every day!"  
MOTHER:  
"Acts just like him, too!

JESSE

I wait on dawn.  
Is dawn to never come?  
I wait on day.  
Has day come and gone?  
Ever faithful dawn  
Coming to me each day;  
I pledge faith to dawn,  
Faith to day.  
She child of light, born to___, born to___:  
Dear child of love,  
Conceived by means of a kiss,  
Heaven above  
Nurtures and directs toward bliss.  
Fear not the night.  
Darkness shall measure its pain  
In hours, not days;  
For day dawns again,  
Soothing the pain wrought by loneliness and cares.  
Ending the pain of those desolate years.

MY RECORDED MAGIC

Oh, my recorded magic  
Presenting  
Art and action of heart and body and of  
Soul searching, searching, and searching through **  
** Illusion-delusion in a  
Magic-Mirror of Mirror-Magic of  
Crystal, the magical elixir; bringing vision into the  
Imaginal world of dreams.  
Go there for she is there.  
Her image has been captured.  
Her image is thine image reflecting two in one.  
By now she knows how  
To stir thee, to still thee.  
Make pregnant the womanly womb of thee,  
That thou be reborn a magical child.

### Chapter Two

"Adam and Eve"

When Eve Cheated On Adam

When Eve cheated on Adam  
She just did it to show him  
How she could really party.  
How she could really party.

Eve said loosen up Adam.  
I just did it to show them!  
We are gods and they mere men.  
That is the original sin!

We were gods! Now, we are men.  
It is our nature to sin.  
Lilith came in that hour and  
Whispered the way to power.

Is this what I and you too  
Will forever be forced to do?

Lilith was before I came.  
You hoped I was not the same.  
Vile as she I cannot be.  
She cuckolds you, curses me.

That snaky creature told me  
Cano is a great lover!  
And if I wanted to see  
I should just come on over.

The devil made us choose sin.  
Look at the mess we are in. **  
**Now disgrace is our calling.  
Partnered up with the fallen.

To turn back the wheels of time,  
Get back into the Garden.  
We would not step out of line;  
Painful birth is a hard one!

Pregnant with his bastard child,  
Foreign, from the Land of Nod,  
His Daddy said, "Call him Cain.  
Now, nothing will be the same.

We would frolic with bare skin,  
In our joy, we knew no shame.  
Eden's bliss never again.  
Now, nothing will be the same.

Shameful, the daughters of Eve  
Follow. They cannot believe!  
Behold the sons of Adam.  
They are forsaken and goddamned.

What Is Original Sin?

What exactly is it that Adam and little Eva do to bring down upon themselves all the world's suffering and shame?

Listen closely while I tell the story.

These two had a special mission. After being engaged for something like 15,000 years as directors of a genetic research laboratory somewhere out there in the sky, they volunteered for a special assignment. They were to come here to serve in the grand scheme of things pertaining to this planet. The mission was as deliverers. They were to bring their superior genes, the code of life, to uplift the natives. They were transported by angels from their home planet to this planet. All of this went down 39,000 years ago.

The process of dematerialization is complicated. The subjects are made ready for transport through interstellar space by dematerialization. Then, it is necessary to put the bodies into material substance again upon arrival at the intended destination. It required ten days after they got here to restructure Adam and Eve. They woke up to the awe-struck adulation of the impressionable rubes who greeted them with the reverence of lowly creatures to God! Adam and Eve told everybody, "Naw! We are not gods! God is God! Worship him!"

From the very start, the pair faced a losing battle. What was given them to do was all but impossible! They were being asked to step onto a planet in rebellion, the seeds of iniquity already in full bloom.

200,000 years ago, Lucifer, designated System Sovereign of the six hundred and seven inhabited worlds of our local universe (of which our planet is but one), had rebelled against the Will of God. What ensued was a reign of prideful disloyalty to divine design leading to a tumult of deception and a betrayal of trust. The revolt had taken a toll on the beings of this planet. Humans and angels split into two camps with both humans and angels in each camp. One camp remained loyal to God's plan. The other camp sided with Lucifer and endorsed his prideful declaration of self-assertion and self-determination. In asserting free will, paradoxically, Lucifer undermined the free will of every being on the inhabited worlds. The situation developed into the apocryphal biblical War in Heaven. Eventually, the rebellion was suppressed. The subdued rebels were given the opportunity to foreswear the rebellion. They could return to the fold if they would. Surprisingly, many men and many angels would not recant. They stayed aligned with and loyal to Lucifer. The split was about two thirds loyal to God, one third loyal to the rebellion. Subsequently, a newly appointed System Sovereign replaced Lucifer. In due time, Michael became the designated Planetary Prince of Urantia. With the advent of Michael two millennia before present times, a new era of hopes for brighter prospects, the prophesied Utopian Age, finally seemed possible. Even so, the promise has been a long time coming!

The conditions on this planet deteriorated to an abysmal state. As stated before, large percentages of the inhabitants of this planet, men, angels, and a strange mix of half-way creatures, defiantly stayed in Lucifer's camp. These proud and unrepentant men and angels with their subservient half-way creatures skulked around looking for trouble. Loyal men and angels were continuously beset by evildoers and mischief makers. A seething hostility between the two camps kept the world in tumult.

As has been discussed, Adam and Eve had a special (though impossible) mission. They were genetic scientists and had been thoroughly prepared. They understood what they were expected to do. They were here to show the native humans a better way. Because of the Lucifer Rebellion, civilization had regressed. What was needed was a jump start to restore the momentum that had been lost in the outworking of God's divine plan, the march to the stars and perfection. This is God's plan, that mortal creatures of destiny strive and have opportunity to increase in wisdom and beauty. This is the purpose for all mortal destiny creatures on this and on all other worlds throughout the universes.

Adam and Eve were to have children and these children were to have children and on and on with the strict admonition to keep the Adamic bloodline pure with no interbreeding with inferior races until the time was right. The genetically superior children of Adam and Eve were to be kept together and the children were to mate exclusively with those descended from the parents until the bloodline numbered 500,000. Critical mass accomplished, the children were to go out into the lands surrounding the Garden of Eden. They were to serve as emissaries bringing cultural development and scientific knowledge into the tribal communities and at the same time to reproduce with those superior types to be found among the tribes. Gradually, through genetic engineering, the barbaric tribes would be uplifted. Calculatedly and patiently, the mortal destiny creatures on this planet would be rehabilitated. The degenerative conditions brought on by the Lucifer Rebellion would have remedy. In a dual process of the cultural and genetic enhancements humanity would be uplifted out of the mire to be brought closer to God.

When Eve got naked with Cano, sure he was a cool guy and in a different situation with things not so critical they might have made a go of it, but, getting naked like she did and conceiving a snot-nosed, impudent, bastard child, caused everything to get skew-wise!

So, that's the story. Eve pleasured Cano. He busted a nut. She got pregnant. The snaky creature had set her up and then he snitched her out. Adam tried to handle the tragedy but he could not change what had happened. He stayed with Eve because he loved her. Given a choice, stay or go home, two thirds of the children went home, back to the stars from where they came! The remaining third of the children stayed and they toughed it out with 'Mom and Dad'.

These children, the ones who chose to stay with their parents, never got over the sorrow and shame of the tragedy that had come over them causing the Adamic bloodline to prove to be inadequate for the task of uplifting of the human race.

Furious with the violation of their mother, the children stormed out of Eden into the outlying areas and slaughtered Cano and his kinsmen. Their fury spent, disgraced and humiliated, the Adamites were forced to journey east out of Eden. They went to a barren and desolate second Eden, a poor substitute for their 'Garden Paradise'.

Cain, the bastard child, spiteful and jealous, killed Adam's son, Abel. For his crime Cain was exiled. He went to his father's land, the Land of Nod, north and east of Eden. Hatred between Adam's descendants and the Nodites has continued for thousands and thousands of years. This hatred is deeply ingrained and endures as a racial memory. The human race, true to its roots of hatred, envy, deception, and betrayal, remains cruel, selfish, and ignorant. At heart, humans are duplicitous, vicious animals. . Very little good is in them. Even so, considering the heartbreak of the tragedy and the way good intentions made things worse than ever, the introduction of the bloodline with superior genetic quality did have a positive effect. Adam and Eve contributed in that the indigenous species was uplifted. Prototypical civilizations began to replace barbaric tribes. But, the result of the genetic engineering can be best summed up as too little, too late.

That's the story, children. No tears, just pain.

CHASTE QUEEN (Cano's lament)

I thought I knew the way you were.  
Mistook a cue, thought it was you.  
I saw the look of wanton ways.  
Somehow mistook your chaste display.  
A projection born within me;  
Self's reflection for me to see.  
The way you are I had no clue.  
You are a star of brilliant hue.  
How you will live, how you will die  
Never deny your right to try.  
Chaste queen and whore, both these you are!  
No more, no less! Why second guess?

### CHAPTER THREE

"The Spirit in Search of Experience"

Hotblood, flying so lonely, over forests, over seas, does not see any reason, nor justice, no loyalty, nor honor, neither truth, nor inspiration. Over swamp, over desert, for life or death, he searched for that something else. Not content with safe complacency, to monitor the changing seasons and the passage of time, preferring the rushing blood and pounding heart 0f adventure as he reminisced on those days of long past when each heart had its quest, Hotblood forsook all familiar territory and approached that edge of the known limits to those of his kind. Never had anyone gone to where he dared to go. His dare was to go to the Land of dreams and nightmares, to that great void beyond from whence there would be no turning back. Thence he went.

He went running up that road. He went running up that hill. Everything seemed normal, but, all of a sudden, everything seemed strange. The road he was running up, the hill he was running up began to move under his running. The road, the hill began convoluting as a serpent would. The formerly benign and commonplace world as he knew it had taken on a surreal cast. The colors of his surroundings, always before drab and unremarkable, the colors of his world were now psychedelic and alive. He noted all these effects even as he fought the vomit in his throat and even as he was resisting the vertigo that had him on the verge of losing consciousness.

He lost consciousness. The vertigo was more than he could stand. He passed out. He was out of it for a long, long time. He had started out on his trip right after eating lunch. That was when everything turned weird and he blacked out. He did not get his senses back until way after dark. He had been out of it for hours and hours.

When he woke up he was face down in a bar ditch. It was lucky for him that the weeds and refuse kept his nose out of the muddy water or he would have been drowned during the ordeal.

There he was! He was in a bar ditch and he stank from vomit and he stank, (the shame of it!) from excrement. His own! It seems the adventure he thought he just had to have was turning out bad! His adventure came with disastrous and unanticipated results. He had his own bodily wastes all over himself! This was not what he wanted. No glory on this road! Just disgusts! Bummer! Things had to get better than this! Now he was thinking, "Forget the thrills! Just take me home!"

Climbing out of the ditch and shaking himself off, he looked around. Then, he paced to the middle of the road. The road was straight as a string and flat as a skillet. The road was wide and smooth. The road gave off a golden glow partly from its own radiance, partly as a reflection from the celestial orbs above. Above him shined a silvery crescent moon in conjunction with a golden Jupiter and a silvery and golden Venus. The three of these heavenly bodies glowed with a luminosity unlike the glow of familiarity back home. The glow from above and the glow from the gold road really were strange.

The flatness of the land, the straightness of the road, the golden radiance taken on by every natural object in view, the three heavenly bodies in conjunction, the heavens lit up like a neon panoply, and a glow of emerald and azure on the near horizon: strange days had found him.

He focused on the glow of emerald and blue on the horizon. He did not know the place but he would soon realize that he was looking at the Emerald City. The Emerald City was one of those mythological places that represented something that was hoped for and dreamed of but did not really exist.

Shangri-La, Cibolo, the land of Nod which lay east of Eden, the lost continents of Mu and of Atlantis, all these places were of fantasies! Dreams are for dreamers and lies are for gullible fools! Never Never Land, Camelot, the land of milk and honey, heaven and hell! Who thought all these fantastic and unsubstantiated stories up? Land of Oz? Bunk! Emerald City? Hogwash!

Yet, here he was and there was 'it.' 'It' beckoned him, calling to him, "Come this way, Hotblood. Meet your fate!"

He stood facing destiny. He was filthy, disjointed, hallucinating, and intrigued by it all!

Then, of a sudden, he heard a ruckus coming toward him out of the darkness into the golden glowing luminescence where he was standing. Then, after a moment, he could see a procession of men who were proceeding from darkness into the light. Then, gradually, he could see them clearly and he could decipher their actions. He could see what they did but he did not understand the purpose of what they were up to!

Toward him, wending its way along the golden road out of darkness into light, toward him then past him in the direction of the Emerald City which loomed on the horizon, the procession was in motion, even undulating and writhing as a reptile might. Past him went the leading ranks. Out of the darkness into the light went the followers. What he witnessed was a human chain in procession. Men, filthy and disjointed as he, men in shackles were being herded and prodded along by squads of sadists.

Police-thugs in sensual bliss were taking unnatural pleasure in the clubbing and spearing of the recalcitrant and any stragglers. Keeping in mind the formidability of the chained and shackled, ever dangerous, keeping 'em whipped down, then, kicking them back on their feet again, through very unpleasant circumstances, everything was moving right along. And, in pretty good order!

All the men shackled and chained front and back, had to keep moving, to keep working at the various tasks. They were sweeping, picking up trash, whatever lay discarded along the road, in ditches, fields, and woodlands on either side. Labor was split up with teams, everyone in a team working together to a common end and purpose. Some of the guys were picking up trash. Some were sorting the stuff, pulling out old shoes, rusty hand tools, halters from animals, rope . . . They piled it up to move the piles forward getting in front of the vanguard with all the collected trash so it could be thrown down and scattered all around for the leading vanguard to sort through once again, collecting and loading as before. The procession undulated and writhed as one reptilian might under the silvery moon, in the glow of the silver and golden planets, toward the Emerald City.

Hotblood stood viewing all this chaotic behavior in disbelief. Trash swept up and carried along to be dumped again into the ditches, fields, woodlands, and creek beds in a useless expense of labor. It made no sense. And the stench rose all the way to heaven! And the majestic glow of the heavens was diminished by the stench! And the filthy wastewater and the refuse and excrement, everything to be imagined, disgusting and rotting and disease infested. These horrific abhorrent collections of human wastes left the gold road sullied and stained. The gold road reflected a murky brown and a sickly yellow.

Completely taken aback by the spectacle, brazen and foolish, Hotblood strode defiantly up to one of the police. He said to one of them, a thuggish cop with a shotgun, "Oh, Sire, this gold road beneath the starry heavens, a mysterious and silvery moon, a portentous conjunction of moon and Jupiter and Venus, the Emerald City off yonder there beyond, all this is good and righteous and beautiful! Why then must we detract from the ethereal and the sublime by persisting in this loathsome labor and in this pointless procession?"

Hardly had the words been uttered before Hotblood was surrounded by police who simultaneously cursed and beat him. They pinioned his arms. They kicked him repeatedly in the loins. They lashed at his face and gouged his eyes. He thought to himself, "Adventure like this! Who needs it?!" The police got him up and onto his feet. They got him chained, shackled and placed in line and in the procession. He had become a link in a human chain of misery to be pushed, pulled, and cajoled into working. Soon he was down in the ditch, on his hands and knees, in the middle of the sloppy mess, and being forced to work in tandem with his new found 'friends.'

Gagging with nausea, recoiling in horror, scared almost to death, Hotblood worked with the others. He scooped trash with his bare hands from the ditch into containers. He was already soiled from his own vomit and excrement. The added filth from whatever unspeakable source made him feel even more corrupted and degraded.

Peering through blood filmed eyes from his vantage down in the bar ditch, Hotblood could see somewhere out there on the near horizon, as the procession wended its way along the gold road, the eminence of the Emerald City. Coming ever closer, he could now distinguish the lofty towers and the uppermost rooftops of a great walled fortress, the Emerald City!

Along the gold road, under the mystery of the night sky, toward the walled citadel, through the gates onto a wide boulevard, and into a ceremonial courtyard wended the procession of human misery. The prisoners in chains continued being tormented by bullying police. Held captive with all the others, Hotblood knew he was helpless and at the disposal of those in authority.

He did not resist. He had a feeling any resistance would be harshly suppressed. He really was trying to go with the flow though he stumbled, lost balance, fell down, and got pushed and prodded and dragged along the boulevard. Finally, he and everyone ended up assembled in the courtyard.

The procession was truly a spectacle of delight for thousands and thousands of spectators wildly cheering. This was a great celebration. The thousands cheered wildly, out of control and at the point of mass hysteria. The crescendo of sound reverberated from the turrets and rooftops. Sound bounced off pavement and stonework and shot skyward.

Hotblood wondered at the spectacle of thousands and thousands yelling and screaming insanely in the midnight moonlight, within the belly of the mythical city. He asked himself, "For what reason and to what purpose?" He had the answer fast. Everything had to do with the suppression of personal liberty and the manipulation of information to inculcate a regime of mass mind control and suppression of freedom for the individual with unbridled police power to the state and the power elite.

He gave an involuntary shudder on realizing the motive force compelling the crowd's frenzy. He knew that somehow, inexplicably, he was caught up in the madness. Terror and suffering had entrapped him. His only faux pas was in wanting a little adventure in his life. He just happened along at the wrong place, the wrong time.

By all appearances, regulations and restrictions on society had become codified and institutionalized to such a degree that now tradition and cultural mores compelled conformity and conventionality over self-reliance and independent thought. Social controls were so tight that no one behaved in any way deviant from normal. This was the situation. These were the conditions. What to do for solutions? There were none. Everyone was trapped.

The chained and shackled men were led around the courtyard and positioned so all were assembled and then brought to a mighty oaken door. The door was very tall. The door soon opened into a passageway. The assemblage was led through door and passageway into an incredibly large, ornate stateroom. The human chain was ushered and gently configured into orderly files and structured groupings. When the shackled men were within the stateroom and all was in order, the dim lighting was adjusted and the interior of the stateroom lit up. All and everything was seen and to be seen.

Now visible were hundreds of shackled men standing in the center of the stateroom. The men were arranged as a serpent might coil preparing to strike. Forming an outside perimeter around the inner coil were hundreds of stately personages whose finery and aristocratic bearing contrasted with the tatters and rags and low rank of the shackled men.

The distinctions of social class did not matter as one by one, and then severally together, the stately personages peeled off from the outer group to go to the inner coil of shackled humanity being unchained and unshackled. The outer came to the inner to take a partner to dance.

An orchestra struck up to play ballroom music. The stateroom was a sea of dancers. High class paired with low class. All found partners. All danced to the music.

Hotblood danced. His partner was a masquerading mockingbird of undetermined gender. Hotblood spoke to the mockingbird dancing partner as the intimacies of the occasion suggested he might do: "Kind Sire, or dear Madame, whatever the case may be, Canst thou! Canst thou? Canst thou?!"

The words echoed to the high cathedral ceilings and to all sides and vestibules of the stateroom that had been converted into a ballroom. As the words spoken by Hotblood faded away, the room fell hushed. Only the echo of the words, "Canst thou! Thou! Canst thou!" Was audible. In silence, the assemblage moved into formation forming a cross.

The light, golden light, and penetrating all matter it seemed. The light blinded Hotblood. After a while, he could see a little bit through the glare. He could make out two yellow eyes just in front of him. Then, he could see more clearly the yellow eyes of an Owl. The sight of the yellow eyes gave him a prescient and pervading sense of gloom and of fear.

Finding his voice, Hotblood entreated the yellow eyes, "Wondrous Sire, what portend these happenings? What is the meaning? Moreover, have I recourse? Will I be heard? Am I able to plead for freedom?"

The yellow eyes spoke. "Thy fate has been decreed. Thou shalt be removed from here .within the hour. Thou shalt be cast into a deep and dark dungeon. Thou shalt be forever in darkness. The only comfort thou shalt ever know will be Death. Thy mistress wears the mask of Death."

He was taken deep, deep into the bowels of earth. He passed through a door of iron and cedar. He was wrested into a chamber, dark, dark and miserable. It was like a coffin. In darkness he was alone.

He was alone. In deepest despair, he hoped to die. Yet, he was afraid of death. He had lost all hope that he would ever see the light of day.

How long had he been stuck away inside that hole? Days? A few weeks? Months? A year? Hotblood had no measure of time passing. He could not know. He knew only darkness and loneliness. He yearned to be free. He feared he would never be free. He suffered even in his dreams.

Then something happened.

High above earth, soaring on the wind, heavenward, earth is a golden-green and blue sphere. The sun is in glory and joy soaring on a wind-borne cloud . . .

Her bounteous lips, a drop of moisture enshrines her lip. It clings to her lower lip looking as a pearl would. Her sparkling eyes shine love and goodness. His head is cradled in her arms. His mouth nurses at her swelling breasts. Holy virgin's milk flows from her breasts. Heavenly truths and heavenly righteousnesses rain down hard all over his body. Their arms embrace and hold tight one another. Thighs, hips, and bellies are pressed together and lips touch. They breathe in unison. They breathe as one.

Time stands still. Stillness is prelude to the explosion of the primordial universe, a universe of infinitesimal particles speeding in every dimension. A seed atom enters the womanly womb. His essence penetrates the void and nothing becomes pregnant with life.

Everything is blissful and pure. Even sound embellishes crystalline and pure. The air is fragrant with rose and jasmine, roses and cinnamon, sandalwood and myrtle, saffron and myrrh and hyssop and olive and galangal. A sublime glow affixes their chamber in glory. Glorious and golden and rosy light bathes to purity the world.

They are floating away to an eternal resting place reserved only for lovers. Seemingly eternal, a moment is but a moment. Nothing endures. Nothing lasts forever. The Spell of Blissful First Love is after all but the Trance of Sorrow. Cruel, cruel, so cruel is love . . .

"I must go!" "Day is dawning!"

The words spoken in urgency caused Hotblood to start as if from a sweet dream to a rude awakening. As the Spell of Blissful First Love fast began to fade away to nothing more than a dimming memory, all that remained was a tragic sense of urgency.

"Is this really happening to me? I have suffered, pain and fear. I found joy and purpose and the meaning to life! Now she is leaving me! I will be lost! Why? Oh, why?" He began to cry. Tears stream from the eyes of the hero, our hero, of rushing blood and pounding heart!

"Tell me why you must leave me. I have only just known cosmic bliss in your arms, in your kiss."

"Mother bids me come."

The cell's door opened. He looked toward the sound. When he looked again to his lover, seeking her beauty, she was gone.

He could not even begin to wonder what happened. Immediately police were on him. They seized him and dragged him from the prison cell. They dragged him down the corridor. They took him through the mighty iron and wooden door. They hustled him out of the courtyard. He was taken along the wide boulevard leading to the gates. He was forced to leave the Emerald City. The police cast him out beyond the city walls.

He was placed near to the gold road that had brought him to this place. Now the same gold road was to take him away!

Hotblood felt very weak. His step was unsteady. He was beset by fear and grief. The strangeness of all that had happened since the fateful day he so recklessly stepped out into the foreboding world had him completely befuddled. Everything had happened so fast! It was like being caught up in a whirlpool. Try, try as you might, you cannot get away and as you go steadily spinning and spiraling down, down, down, all sense of time and one's sense of orientation are skewed contrariwise. Throw into the mix a romantic involvement and who is to know, or even care, which end is up!

All he could think about was her loveliness and how much he missed her. Her fragrance was on him. The taste of her mouth was ever in his. He thought of her breasts and how the maternal secretions made him thrill! He was completely blown away in love.

And then he thought of lament and loss . . .

He cursed destiny. He cursed God. He cursed the sojourn to the Emerald City. He cursed his ill-fated foray into other realms. He cursed himself that he had ever been born to woman. Yet, with all his blasphemy and with all his negativity, he could not bring himself to blame the lady. Nor could he curse their coming together. He vowed to know her again!

He traveled the gold road. He traveled away from the Emerald City. He passed bountiful fields of agriculture. He passed too many herds of livestock and poultry farms to keep count.

He entered many dark and scary forests. He entered alone and lonely. He came out the other side alone and lonely. All the wealth and prosperity of the world of humankind meant nothing to him. The abundance of nature and the grace of God were trifles and it bothered him to think about such things. He scornfully rejected the desirability of having anything. He would not consider something might be good and worth having. He was devoid of sentiment, all feeling save longing for that which he did not have. He did not have the girl. He did not even know her name.

The longing for someone he could not have become his obsession. He never thought about other things, things of a personal nature. He would not give thought to who he was and how he had come to this place of loneliness and hardship. He never thought of the early days. He had repressed and almost blotted the memory of those days of his youth when he had been stirred to action by deep and unsettling longings not altogether different from the obsessive longing of the present times. Repressed were the memories of urges and inclinations that had stirred him to look for something different in life and had spurred the adventures bringing him to the Emerald City. The longings and the urges of the past he associated exclusively with an eternal desire to find her and to get her back. His exclusive, eternal desire was for the lady who came to him in the deep, dark recesses of a deep, dark chamber within the entrails of earth. His fixation had become his conviction. He was convinced that only through her could life be worth living. She would heal him. He would search the world over until he found her. She would heal him!

Many weeks and many months Hotblood tramped the countryside. He foraged for his sustenance. He slept as he could. He was always wet and cold and hungry. He was always weary. Never did he have ease in living. Most days verged on the edge of despair. Yet, on rare occasions, sometimes in the early morning waking up, or, at midday enjoying, despite himself, a particularly satisfying respite, or, in the still and dark of midnight, laying down in a secure and comforting hideaway; on these occasions he would feel a surge of emotion and feel way down deep inside that all is well. These moments gave him courage and the resolve to keep on living.

He would have prescient visions. He would see himself and he would see his love. She would be poised before him as if beckoning, that he follow where she was leading him, up a steep path or through a dark passageway assuring him of her devotion to care for him as his inspiration, as his guide through the unknown to glory which lay beyond.

Then he would know that all was well with the world. All was as it was meant to be. He would think, "All will come someday!" He was determined to keep himself together that they might be together again.

One late afternoon of fiery sun tempered by cooling zephyrs at dusk, Hotblood came to a little lake hidden away in a valley. He was on the ridge above taking in the panorama of lake and secluded valley. To his utter amazement he saw his dream girl below. She was swimming and splashing around having a good time. In his joy and surprise, he called out to her. She did not heed the call. Another's more resonant voice blunted out the sound of his voice. The resonant voice was a masculine voice. The manner of the one who spoke and what he said to her implied familiarity. These are the words: "Look here, my dear, darling girl! The joust is to begin once more as I am ready to mount you again and again and again and again. Once again I will mount you. Are you ready to have me on top and inside of you? Ah! Belle! Your graces are sublime!"

As Hotblood stood looking on from above, frozen in time, he witnessed the love of his life rising from the water, unclad, going to her lover. She was offering herself to this other man! She offered herself in supplication as a woman will only do if she is in love.

Hotblood had seen enough. He turned from the lovers casting his eyes downward. He painfully walked away.

After that day he knew only remorse. He had stood there and watched what was tantamount to the desecration of his Ideal. At a loss as what to do, he heaped recriminations upon himself. He cursed his features, that she could love someone other than him. He cursed his body, that she could fondle someone other than him. Mostly, he cursed woman. After a spell of the most bitter and rancorous cursing directed toward woman in general and her in particular, he relented for a little while before launching into another cycle of diatribes against himself and womanhood. He became an inveterate misogynist.

All the ranting and raving did not solve anything nor did it change anything. He loved her still. Deeply pained by her inconstancy, feeling betrayed after seeing her in love with another man, he loved her still.

Many years passed. Hotblood continued his wandering in exile from society. With the fleeting years faded the bloom of youth. His face had once been childlike and pure. His face now showed the signs of aging. Innocence had hardened. His skin was weathered and leathery. His image was unsettling, even to his own reckoning. Pausing to look at the reflection in a clear pool, he was saddened at his changed appearance. It had been a hard, an impossible life! He had only wanted a harmless life of adventure! Instead, he had to suffer through a life of pain and disappointment! Bitter experiences had left him wizened and full of bitter self-loathing. This old man was ready to die and to be free from life's travail.

Wandering to the very end, Hotblood came to a glade. He penetrated into the glade. Within the trees, he entered a clearing. The clearing and surrounding trees formed a natural circle, an alcove. There he lay down on the cold and hard ground. He lay near the base of an ancient oak. He rested his head on a moss covered stone. He drew his dying breaths.

A vision came to him as he lay dying. In these moments he saw himself as a youth. He was the young man he had been at the time of his adventure seeking. With him was the girl of his dreams. She stood before him, as she had done many times before in his dreams, as his instructress and guide into the great mystery of womanhood. She is the one who will lead him to his destiny and completion.

Standing beside his aged and dying body, within the alcove sheltered by the trees, listening to the rustling of the leaves, he listens to the sighing of the universe. Looking heavenward, he gazes into the vast reaches of time and space. Finally, after so much pain and want and disappointment, he felt like this was where he was meant to be and that all that had happened to him had been preordained.

He had searched for that something else in life and he had found his destiny. He had found Reason, Justice, Loyalty, Honor, Truth, and Inspiration.

A balm of peace enveloped him and he knew everything is as it must be because that is the way it is. As he breathed his last breath, consciousness rose from the corpse.

Walking close to the place where Hotblood lay on the ground to die, along a brook skirting the glade, a boy, a young and fragile child, sat down on a rock and listened to the sound of the water gurgling and splashing by. In the evening stillness, the boy felt an impending gloom settling over him. Looking through overhanging limbs skyward, it frightened him when the limbs started to shake violently. The shaking, as of a raging storm, went on for just a moment. Then calm set in as the rage subsided and seemed to give way to resignation. As stillness quieted the shuddering limbs, a lonely whippoorwill lifted its song heavenward. The whippoorwill sang a hymn of hope and ultimate peace. The hymn resounded throughout the hills and valleys its message of hope and peace. Hills and valleys echoed a song of sadness, loss, and death.

The frightened child got to his feet. He was ready to get out of that spooky place. Before leaving he turned to the sound of the melancholy song lilting heavenward. He listened questioningly.

Feeling a chill, the little man-child thought with longing of the comfort, warmth, and security of home. Turning homeward, he hurried away from the place. Hurrying home, chilled and strangely afraid, he had a sense of déjà vu. He felt as he had seen it all before. He felt as he would see it all again.

### CHAPTER FOUR

"THE DREAM, A VISION"

Music streamed into the room where he stood. The music was coming from an adjoining room where a party reveled. Couples danced or lounged about on cushions and chaise lounges. Loud, boisterous, masculine voices and the irritation of female titters assaulted his sensibilities. He stood apart and alone. He wondered where in the world she could be?

He had not seen her in such a long time. He had not seen her since that day of their forced separation. That day, holding her closely to kiss her goodbye, tears flowed down their cheeks. The pain of forced separation seared their hearts. Now, after so much time had lapsed, he and she were to be reunited. He could feel her closeness but he did not know how or where to begin looking for her.

He went into the room whence the music came. His eyes probed every corner and scanned the open spaces of the rooms. He looked into the faces of the people in the rooms. All the expressions were blank and indifferent.

He should have known everyone. Every guest at the party would have been friend or acquaintance to everyone else. It was planned as an intimate occasion. But, to his reckoning, everything and everyone seemed strangely unfamiliar. Mystery pervaded the air. His effort to understand did not help him get a grasp on the situation. He milled about in confusion.

He moved into a corner giving him a vantage. Music droned on. He studied the couples dancing. He observed those who lounged. Conversations droned on and on.

His strange behavior went unnoticed. No one showed interest in him. He could have been invisible. No one came up to him. No one even looked in his direction. He could have been a ghost.

He walked out of the room of the music and dancing and went into the room he had been before. His melancholy mood directed his movements toward the solitude of the fireplace. There he stood just staring at the blaze until a voice startled him.

His musings were interrupted when his name was spoken out and the speaker strode up to him as he was standing and looking into the firelight. Instinctively, he turned and positioned himself in front of the one who had spoken his name and had come toward him. The outline of the person, though illumined by the firelight, was vague and he could not make out who the person was; if he even knew this person! After moments in trying to remember, he determined that the one before him was someone he had met but he could not remember where or when. Nor, could he come up with a name for this person. Features were unrecognizable in the dimness of the light. Shadow danced on the walls. Shadow danced on the floor and on the ceiling.

In shadow, the vague inchoate form, someone he should have known but whose identity escaped him, began to speak. He spoke of generalities; current events, the weather, sports, people they knew in common. After some moments of talking in this way, he mentioned her by her name.

He blanched at the mention of her name. He wondered that the strangely obscure person in his presence should know about his beloved, she for whom he longed.

So longingly had he longed for her!

The two of them remained standing by the fireplace. Though close and facing one another, their features were obscured.

He glared intently into a face that remained veiled, concealed in shadow. He anticipated the other telling him where to find her. Shadow danced. Shadow danced on the walls. Shadow danced on the floor and ceiling. Shadow obscured the other. The other dissolved into the shadows.

He was alone again! Nothing had been revealed. In his mood, he could only stand staring into the firelight. His musings induced a state of abstraction. His state of mind portended a heightened awareness, intuitive knowing, prevision, a glimpse into the future. His trance-like state of mind overshadowed his

objective senses. He had come from his place by the firelight in the house.

He was outdoors. The transit from within to without had been accomplished by a somnambulant. He was looking up, staring into the heavens. His eyes were unfocused. His consciousness was all absorbing. The myriad points of light, starlight radiating from billions upon billions of separate universes, this light from heaven penetrated to the very core.

He wondered at the breadth of the universe. Wonderment and awe filled the chalice of his heart to overflowing. He had an immediate reaction to these spontaneous outpourings of bliss. He was beset by an existential crisis. He could not sustain his bliss because he knew deep down that an emotion other than the bliss of union and the sense of belonging had taken over and had become the dominant construct of his mind. He could imagine himself to be happy for a moment. All the while, he had this greater emotion of doom as an all-pervading, inescapable uneasiness gripped the seat of his soul.

Emptiness, the gut-wrenching, terror inducing feeling of emptiness, had destroyed his bliss. He felt alone and apart from the source of all things good.

Then, in an instant, it came to him! As his mood oscillated once again, he inferred that meaning and sustenance in life can be attained, but, only through the union of male and female. So he reasoned. Bliss depended on her! Surely, she felt this way too. He hoped and prayed she still loved him.

He knew he was incomplete. He was separated by an unfathomable chasm from his complement. She was the only one who could heal him and make him whole. He speculated on the duel nature of everything including his own soul. He reasoned that lasting fulfillment would come to him only by coupling with another, a kindred soul, the Beloved!

Theirs was not an ill-conceived affair. The bond that held them had been tempered by trial by fire and was strong beyond measure. No earthly power could rupture; nothing in nature could dissolve this coupling of love. But, at that moment, once again a hollow fear assailed him. Staring into the recesses of space, looking back to the beginning of time, infinity defined for him a world of uncertain result. Might he be delusional? Might his concept of an 'eternal beloved' be conditional and the product of wishful thinking? Might his beloved disappoint him?

These thoughts, earth-bound realism, caused him to lower his probing eyes. His vision now surveyed earthly conditions and his surroundings.

Acceptance of the probable course of events left him shaken, unsure, and lacking confidence. Darkness closed in on him. He had no cause to rejoice. All his life he had been subject to the whim and capriciousness of the world!

His self-pity was momentary. The stars beckoned to him. Again, his sight took flight. This moment of flight was ecstasy, the stuff dreams are made of . . . He rejoiced in his aloneness. He savored the delectable sweetness of his secret thoughts. These thoughts were as reliable as his depression and showed him the way to see through his problems.

He became aware of the briskness of the night when a chill coursed up his spine. The cold stiffened him and he resolved to see the thing through to its determination. He strode resolutely. He had been fortified by his reverie and he felt good. He was happy. He was secure in the knowledge of his inner strength and in the goodness and truthfulness of his yearnings.

Going again inside the house, he was in a large room with vaulted ceilings. A skylight gave a view of the night sky and he was able, once again, to contemplate the recesses of heaven. Fixing his gaze on a single glimmering point of light, he had a vague and uneasy feeling of puzzlement verging on despair. His puzzlement caused him to voice a question. From the deep well of his innermost being erupted these words: "Tell me the meaning! Tell me, why!"

To these long undetermined questions from the heart, answers immediately came as a stillness settled over him. Agony yielded to an inner peace. He was sure of his purpose. He knew beyond mere intellectual reasoning the nature of things. Concepts and guiding principles, perhaps inexpressible in language, these abstract expressions of truth were incontrovertible.

Attendant to his intuitive comprehension into the mysteries, he felt himself to be receptive and responsive to his higher self. As one who is receptive to divine influx to be guided and directed by preternatural force, he knew the way he should go. He left the large room with the vaulted ceilings and went to an adjoining antechamber. Into the antechamber, then, as he stood motionless, his vision was into a chamber of mystery. This chamber had heavy tapestries on the walls. The sight was obscured by tapestry and shadow. Vaguely, he could see ghostly faces with lucid eyes, otherworldly beings engaging in ritualistic ceremony. He came into the space. All turned to him, as if he were anticipated.

A sympathetic murmur enveloped him as he pressed onward to the center of the space. He was in the center, in the midst of a crowd, within a circle of beings, standing before a bier. The bier was adorned with flower offerings and lighted by candles. The candles cast a supernatural radiance throughout. From above descended a ray shining directly on the bier giving a body lying on the bier a heavenly beauty and grace.

The body upon the bier was his dearly beloved. Emotion gripped his soul. A low wail in his throat strangled him. His body shook with emotion. Could it be? Had he come to this unholy place to witness the funeral?

Climbing up to her, he knelt by her side. He bowed his head reverently and worshiped her as a goddess. He praised her glory. He gave homage to her as more worthy, more noble than he. His only motive and purpose in life was in service to her divine being.

Unconsciously, he rose to his feet. All his awareness was focused on her deathly pale face as she was lying upon the funeral bier. A slight movement played upon her lips, a smile. Her hands unfolded from her breasts and she beckoned that he comes to her. He lay down by her. Her slowly welling, rhythmic breathing proclaimed that she yet lived.

She, his goddess who he worshiped, cradled him in her arms. Lying with her with his head upon her life sustaining breast, a flood of blissful emotion rushed into him and filled him to overflowing. In a state of overwhelming happiness, he gave forth a sigh and these words, "Oh, Heavenly Mother! Divine Lover! How I have longed for thee!"

These words faded away as he sank into oblivion and nothingness. He awoke. He was alone. As consciousness came back to him, his sense of self and environment returned and he knew what was happening and he knew where he was. He was in a cold, dark, and lonely prison cell. He had been a prisoner for two long years.

Grey light of the coming day came in through glazed and barred windows. The jingle of the jailer's keys signaled his approach with meager breakfast. He got up from his place of sleep and dreams. He was ready for the day.

Faithfully and fervently, he voiced his morning supplication. "Divine Mother, come to me as a lover. Stir me and still me. Fill me to overflowing. I am yours to use as you will. Come now softly, silently. I am yours to use as you will!"

The jailer opened his cell and he stepped forth to a new day.

### CHAPTER FIVE

"LAY ME DOWN, DOWN, DOWN; LAY ME DOWN SO LOW"

Yet and only so, dusk in the tropical sultriness brings an intoxication, even to those in sobriety, as the mingling of the low and the high, the fallen and the yet to be up risen; such is life in Merida, Yucatan.

She had been a proud and stately woman, regaling in her station. Her lofty position in society had come to her by marriage to an energetic man well connected socially, commercially, and politically. During the years they were married, he parlayed a comfortable inheritance into considerable wealth. He had manufacturing concerns, an import and export brokerage, warehouses and other real estate for personal use as well as investment, and liquid capital in the form of currencies, stocks and bonds.

As wife of such a very important, well-heeled, 'gentil' entrepreneur, she had privilege to indulge in opulence and ostentation. The queen of great wealth, she vaulted herself above ordinary people while ingratiating herself to anyone she took to be socially prominent. The outcome of her methods proved counterproductive. Everyone regarded her as hard, insensitive, inflexible, and overbearing.

She presumed more for herself than her talents and character should have allowed. Her affectation aside, everyone knew her background. The only notable accomplishment in her life was that she had married favorably. To those of the higher social class she was nothing but a 'poser' and a pretender who had overstepped her rightful social niche. She was crude, vulgar, and devoid of social grace and charm. Her ambition to belong to the 'clase social' had been thwarted and stalled from the very beginning. She found herself ostracized by the very ones she sought so ardently to join!

True, her lineage and her upbringing were not of the 'clase social.' rather, she was born to the lower strata. Her father, a second generation Lebanese Christian, had been a hard drinker and a dedicated philanderer. He was a Philistine. He was ignorant, uncultured, and indifferent to the finer things in life, but with the looks of Rudolf Valentino.

Her mother's family was mestizos of Canary Island Spaniards and indigenous Mayan Indian stock. The mother, simple and decent, had been taken in by the father's roughish charm. To the chagrin of her parents, she was receptive to his advances and they married under protest of her family who could see the problems that would come to her, the foolish bride of a 'mujeriego' like 'Ernesto Umberto Aguilar y Castillo!'

The family of Welina Solis de Aguilar was landed peons. Thrift and good luck had brought them thirty acres on which they built an old-style hacienda. The surrounding land had been divided into residential and commercial lots. One hundred years ago the house and land had been out beyond the city limits and the outskirts of settlement, outside the ancient city gates on the highway to Chichen-Itza and Valladolid.

The pueblo of Merida, Yucatan had metamorphosed from a provincial backwater of Spanish colonialism to the thriving commercial center for the entire Yucatan peninsula with half million citizens. The growth had engulfed the outlying districts and the hacienda now stood in the center of a teeming business district in the "barrio" of Chen-Bech adjacent to the highway running east and west and connecting the small Indian villages and archeological curiosities scattered throughout the countryside. This road had been traveled for thousands of years. This was the way to go from that great ceremonial center of the Mayan/Aztec confederation of Chichen-Itza to the equally spectacular city-state of Ti-Hoo. Ti-Hoo had been razed by the rapacious Spaniards. The still extant temples and palaces of the priests and nobility at the beginning of the intrusion were torn down to the foundations and stones and the ornate fixtures were then used to erect and embellish the Cathedral, the Palacio and all the other majestic architecture of colonial Merida. The Spanish conquest, destruction, and reconstruction in the peninsula is dated 1547. Though preserved in memory and name by the ones who still carry on the Mayan ways and language even to the present day, Ti-Hoo is gone and forgotten by everyone else who only recognize the place as Merida the 'white city' of the Yucatan; known throughout the hemisphere as a place of charm and romance.

Welina's family was of the landed working class. They had property and some money in the bank. Welina was common though respectable. Umberto was a rogue, a ruffian, and a libertine.

Welina and Umberto married and had two daughters. The couple endured each other for a few years, then separated and divorced. The children were left fatherless and with bleak prospects for the future. Edid, the eldest by two years, did not like school. Even less than studying did she like to work. Lazy and dim-witted, she was destined for a life of mediocrity if not for one fortunate condition. The blending of the bloodlines had given them a fetching, an exotic physiology. The two girls were 'guapisimas'! They commanded the attention and the admiration of all.

The girls were fifteen and seventeen year old Mexican beauties who had their choice of all the eligible bachelors around town. The two of them were so pretty that they might pick and choose as they pleased.

Edid took her time. Romantic love was not why she picked this boy or another to spend time with. Neither did good looks and charm mean anything special in her estimations.

Edid was ambitious and calculating from birth. She used feminine grace and animal magnetism, the wiles of her sex and succeeded in attracting a suitor who promised her the world and more and who had the ability to deliver.

Everything pointed to disaster. One could cite precedents of star-crossed affairs when guileless boys married low-class girls. These marriages always turned out bad. Everyone told him watch out! But he did not care. He was blinded by sexual passion. After an indecently brief courtship, he proposed. She hastily said yes.

The barrio looked to the pending nuptials as a good break for Edid and her family and the barrio's dwellers hoped to share in the luck. They figured Edid would remember her humble upbringing and be pleased to show them the graces of society. They would get to mix and mingle with the social elite of Merida. Putting on airs and pretending to be more than appearances, this is the way the lower classes mollify stifled dreams.

These people knew the integration of high and low society was taboo and not tolerated by the rich people who never accepted anyone not born to privilege. But, what the hell! Edid does have her charms and he's got the money to keep her in check! To cast things in a positive light, the people in the barrio gossiped and speculated on the effect a barrio girl getting married to a rich dude would have. Some envisioned big parties. Others had their eye on jobs in the warehouses and factories of the groom who would see the need to be a benefactor to their little corner of the world. This was the mood in Chen-Bech in the days and weeks leading up to the wedding day. Everyone, neighbors and kinsfolk, congratulated the girl and sincerely wished her well.

Edid, as was her custom, thought only of herself. She was pleased and self-satisfied to be escaping from the squalor. She wanted a clean break. She did not want anything or anybody coming across the class barrier to remind her of Chen-Bech. She was the girl picked from the crowd! She deserved all the glory! She ridiculed and scorned all the people she knew. Gratitude and charity were not in her nature. Little people be damned!

She invited neither friends nor family to the nuptials and parties. Her new life was not to be compromised by common trash! After the wedding, she deigned never to go across town, from the Colonia Aleman, the rich side of town, to filthy Chen-Bech. When rarely she did go there to see her mother and sister, she displayed such hauteur that she left very bad feelings etched into the hearts of the common people.

Her hauteur festered like cancer. She was mean to her domestics, those born into humble stations to attend the whims of the social classes. She vented her disgusts in fine restaurants and posh clubs. The sales girls in salons and boutiques feared her sharp words. She upbraided and ridiculed everyone.

Her husband, the one she owed appreciation and respect, was thinking, 'What a bitch!" She wanted complete control in the marriage. She staged embarrassing situations causing him to loose face. She used her sensuality to hammer home his vulnerability that she more easily corner and pin him. With hooks securely in place, she gloated in her power over him. She labored at being 'la reina de las putas', queen of the bitches! Her campaign for control was calculated and skillfully put into effect. He was a hopeless 'miserable' and a 'pobre infeliz.' he woke up one morning to see that he was mired in a world of woe.

He felt diminished and inadequate. She was fickle and disloyal and her tirades sapped his strength. She involved herself in a series of imbroglios always plotting and scheming against someone. He had to listen to her as she belittled and berated him non-stop saying he was a little man.

Vindictive to the extreme, she set out to humiliate her enemies. Any slight or presumption, real or imaginary, infuriated her. Irrational, she defended her intrigues as just. Anyone she caused to suffer deserved the pain. She expected that he agree with her.

She made enemies! More than a few secretly connived and plotted to bring her down. When the ongoing skirmishes went against her, with quandaries and vexations galore, she would get flustered by the heat of the action. Her self-pity was laughable. She blamed her husband for her problems. She insisted that if he were a good husband, protective and supportive, the hounds nipping at her would not dare!

She even accused him of acquiescence. She told him it was his fault. He liked to see her put down because he was jealous of her! Everyone hated her because she was beautiful! The world is a cruel and jealous pit filled with small-minded haters living in lousy shacks with filthy toilets! She told herself she would show them! She carried on spiteful and mean.

After a few years of this, her husband took no pleasure in his beautiful wife. She belittled him and put him down in public. He harbored secret thoughts and carried on soliloquies in which he would be the one who faulted her. He would tell her what he thought of her. He would wish that he had never been so blind and stupid to marry a common tramp from the barrio. His wife was a common barrio tramp and she did not even take care of their children.

They had two daughters. They were little things but it was obvious they were neglected. The little girls were ill kept. The rumor was that she would go out and the children would be alone for hours and hours, sometimes, to the next day. When daddy was away on business, mommy was making the rounds partying and getting drunk.

She foisted her maternal duties off on whomever she could. She loathed any associations to motherhood. She went out into the night seeking excitement. She liked going to the hottest nightspots and to risqué 'teatros' where the entertainment might include provocative stage presentations of sexual behavior. Her social set, those she really got into and most enjoyed being around, were of the leisure classes of old money and proud lineage. She bragged about her friends who descended from 'los conquistadores!' even with the house of Montejo!

One of her best friends was Raphael Montejo whose antecedent was the legendary Capitan Montejo, master of the servile Mayab. It was at his instigation that the Mayan temple was torn down and a Catholic church put on the same ground using the limestone of the temple. Her friends were degenerates of extreme wealth. Their wealth afforded a modicum of respectability. Hanging out with them made her feel great.

With them she was in her element. She was a kindred soul. She liked to parade her association with Merida's richest, most ancient and noble sons making sure her husband and his mother could see her with them and know she had beaten them at their own game of snobbish condescension. Yes, she had gotten back at them! They were bourgeois simpletons who would not trap her with their rules and conventions. She relished in the pretense of her superiority. She and her friends really had it together!

She loved to travel to Mexico City and on trips to Miami and even across the Atlantic to Barcelona, Madrid, and Rome. She would come back with tales of high adventure. She would be loaded down with expensive foreign goods only rich people can afford. She loved to spend her husband's money.

She was the subject of insidious gossip. It bothered her not one bit. That she cuckolded her husband only made her feel like she really was a special person, a great beauty. Everyone wanted to have her but she could only be had by a chosen few! Only the richest and most powerful could have her.

It was common knowledge that she kept a string of sycophantic paramours to pump up her ego. Being the center of attention, she played the role of a femme fatal. She imagined herself as a cross between Mae West and Betty Boop. She was not really that in to sex per se. What really got her off was narcissistic display for voyeurs and playboys.

All the gossip proved people were taking notice and she was pleased by all the talk. Though most of the talk was on her whorish ways, she felt she was above it all. The gossipers were self-righteous and hypocritical 'little people.' the put downs and the trash talk came from nasty-minded old ladies. It was not her problem they were fat, ugly, and dumb. She took great pride in being noticed even when the comments about her were negative. She figured she was above the fray.

Yet, all the while, as the several years of these melodramas marched on, the security of her perch above the fray was being inexorably undermined. The meanness of her ways and her scandalous behavior weighed against her and looming ahead unnoticed was the certainty of a fall. All this tedious and aggrieving conduct had silently and subjectively brought her to a rupture in the structure of her life. Her husband wanted to get rid of her and soon. She was in for a rude comeuppance. The diffident, pliable, and so-easy-to-get-over- on husband was not pleased with her as a wife. Nor had he found cuckoldry funny.

He did that which he proceeded to do in his usual perfunctory style. And, even though he had cause, his motives were not laced with revenge. Rather, it was just the proper thing to do. Cutting her loose and being freed from her was simply good policy. It was not spitefulness. It was just the thing to do.

He had planned every detail even to the girls who had been sent to private academies in Miami, Florida. The girls were securely out of the way which led to the next step. He petitioned for divorce. The decree cited adultery and abandonment of the home. She was completely taken aback by the summons to appear in divorce court. Being unprepared, her defense was meager and ineffective. She murmured about conjugal property and deferential attitudes afforded women.

The gentleman and his lawyers got a private hearing with the judge and the terms were set up and put into effect as a matter of course and she had no recourse as the rubberstamp had already sealed her fate before she even spoke a word.

When she realized what had gone down, she tried to get a better settlement. She went to her wealthy and influential friends. Going back ten, fifteen years she had raved about how tight they were, that she knew she could count on these dudes! Now, at this critical time, no one lifted a finger to help, no good advice, no gestures of sympathy.

The support and political cronyism that might have had some favorable bearing on the outcome was not there. Raul Montejo and the others whose favor she had courted, those friends and lovers had grown tired of her.

Once the blossom began to fade she was exposed as the common 'morena' from the barrio; the truth of the matter, no one can long endure a contentious woman!

The court determined she would have her personal possessions. All the finery, designer apparel, jewelry, furnishings, all she accumulated in fifteen years of profligacy and wasteful expenditure of precious cash, she would be able to carry with her when she left.

She had no right to claim any of the financial assets or properties of her husband. Even though he was not obligated to do so, he, not being a vengeful person, gave her a cash settlement and bid her farewell. She would not be given any more money in the days and months to come. This really upset her.

She sang her song of lamentation to anyone who would listen. She told them how she gave the very best she could give to her husband and daughters. Everyone knew it was a lie! She blasted them saying those years she had been at her most beautiful and now she was getting a little aged, they abandoned her! Those ingrates!

How was she to live? How miserable life could be! Her future was really bleak. How tragic! What would become of her? Was there no help or hope for a woman forsaken, cast off, jilted, unloved? What was to become of her?

She went to live with her mother in Chen-Bech. It was quite a procession when she went through the heart of Merida from the fashionable and upscale residence in the Colonia Aleman where she had lived as a queen to her mother's two room hovel in shanty town. She moved all her things into the shanty where Welina and Eubelio, common-law husband and wife, lived their simple lives. The old couple lived poor yet proud and happy enough.

Welina had taken up with Eubelio after her marriage to Umberto Aguilar ended. He was fifteen years older than Welina and they shacked up together for convenience and because they both liked to drink liquor and beer. Now in his eighty's, a retired merchant marine, he was quiet as a church mouse, even talking in signs and gestures rather than saying something that might get him a scolding from Welina. It was a sign of their innate goodness they never considered saying no to the daughter. She was welcome.

Now, the three of them slept, all in the front room. Hammocks were strung up at night and taken down by day so they could move around. All the space was taken. Cardboard boxes and plastic bags were stacked along walls and stuffed into every nook and cranny. This was how low Edid had sunk. She felt humiliated.

All the people were shocked and surprised seeing Edid back living with her mother. They did not like her. Still, they felt bad for her seeing her fall from high society. Secretly, they were satisfied seeing she got what she had coming. She had really been out of line with her conceit for so many years and they talked about her and everybody said that life has a way of making things even out, mixing the bad with the good. There was a lesson there! Everyone should take this as a lesson!

She had taken to walking the streets alone. She was always muttering to herself. She would blurt out an epithet, and then continue saying nonsense. She seemed dissociated from her surroundings always wearing an abstracted look on her face. Everyone agreed she was losing her mind.

Afternoons were spent drinking. This had been her routine for weeks and months. She walked around aimlessly all morning and got drunk all afternoon.

Having already squandered the cash she had received in the divorce settlement, she was resigned to drinking on borrowed money. She would gladly have turned tricks for her booze if the miscreants she caroused with but had money to pay her! So, it was catch as catch can! Live for today! Eat, drink, be miserable, and then die!

On this fine day, month of May, she went to her customary cantina to drink and hang out. Those in the place with her were the typical lot of drunkards, perverts, and thieves. The place is in a low class neighborhood, wretched even by Chen-Bech standards, catering to the tastes and serving delight to society's most undelightful. These most poor and miserable creatures share destinies, getting drunk, telling jokes, staying cool and out of sight.

The regular crew and Edid shared a bottle of rum chased by coke and beer. When the money got low, they switched to pulque offered by the proprietor on credit until next week. All drink to drunkenness.

She is one of the several; boys, men, and an occasional whore sharing their days in this way. Even though it is full daylight, everyone is rip roaring drunk. This is how she has been for days. Edid has become a habitual drunk and is steadily losing her mind.

She is a study in contrasts. The surroundings and her drunkenness are not in synch with her bearing and her stylish clothes. Her style, clothes, shoes, and jewelry are elegant. The men around her are tawdry, indolent, and uncultured. They are dressed in tatters.

The men and boys hoot and holler at her as she tries to get up from the table. She is restrained and cannot get up because one guy has his hand up her dress. He fingered the moist hollow between her thighs. Another has pulled at the collar of her blouse to cop a feel. Her breasts were exposed for all to see. All her drinking buddies are hooting and hollering like obscene children; dangerous and obscene children.

She lurched to her feet and broke free. Disheveled, breasts and thighs naked, she stumbled out into the street. She wanted to go home. She only has to go a few short blocks down the dirt road that passed in front of her mother's house. She had to get out and away from that acrid, smelly, vermin infested den of mongrels!

Drunk, she cannot go on even one step more. She fell down. She fell and lay alongside the dirt road, unconscious.

A broken and idiotic neighborhood cripple boy happened along making his rounds. This cripple boy saw her all in a heap and senseless. He ran off to get Edid's mother and sister. He went straight to the hacienda to get Magdalena and Don Antonio.

When he got there, shuffling and limping along, he explained himself best he could. Pantomime and inarticulate stammering effectively give the alert and the people came running to see what was going on. As they ran down narrow pathways to the unpaved road the few blocks from hacienda to where she lay, they wondered aloud among themselves. An accident? Robbery? Mugging? Sexual assault? The urgency and willingness to rush to Edid to render aid was more from curiosity than any real concern for the fallen woman. Nobody liked her anyway.

"There she is!" She was over in the weeds and rocks. She was motionless and all in a heap. As they gathered around her, she stirred. Her drunkenness was obvious! Coming to, Edid recognized the pompous and self-righteous attitudes that stamped the minds of her kin. Knowing them for who they were, she feigned a little show by holding her hands to her head as she is lifted to her feet.

The ragtag, idiot cripple boy now stepped into the role he was born to play. He assumed the persona of a knight gallant outfitted in shining armor, protector of fair damsels in distress. He delivered his charge to her feet. With pomp and dignity they walked arm in arm toward sanctuary. They were going back to the old hacienda. Welina had lived here with her daughters after her marriage breakup. This had been the only place they called home. The grand, old-style hacienda; built early 19th century, had spacious rooms, twelve feet high ceilings, two feet thick block and mortar walls, and an expansive courtyard that connected the house to outbuildings and the cultivated fields beyond.

The property in its present state was reduced to an area of two city blocks as the outlying terrain was sold off piece by piece to developers. Welina, mother of Edid and Magdalena, had always lived there. Calculatedly, Don Antonio assumed proprietorship and Welina was shunted to a shanty three blocks away. Welina lived there with Eubelio and now, Edid also lived there sharing her and Eubelio's primitive home.

Magdalena had never left Merida and its environs other than day trips to Progreso, Campeche, or Quintana Roo. She had married one of the local crazy boys when still a girl of sixteen. As widely reported, Edid married above her station and Magdalena married beneath herself. For some implausible reason she hooked up with Don Antonio Salazar. Magdalena was a gentle and beautiful girl. Don Antonio was short and fat and mean spirited.

His fore bearers had come up to the peninsula from the southern river lowlands of Belize and Guatemala. His people were Lacondons. Mayan in name, they had none of the Mayan ways. They spent all their time floating around in their canoes, fishing and hunting monkey heads to shrink. Lacondons are more warlike than other Mayan groups. They were rumored to have been cannibalistic. Don Antonio was true to his race. He was a vicious and a sadistic dude.

During the early years of marriage he was a cop. He belonged to the 'judicial federal.' The federal police are a bunch of mean guys. Everyone hates them. His reputation as a cop was based on his policing the mongrel dogs and stray cats in the neighborhood. He dedicated lots of his time to hanging mongrel dogs and stray cats in trees and then using them for target practice.

Something happened to cost him his job. Maybe he bullied and roughed up the wrong person. He lost his cop job for which he was temperamentally so well suited. He looked around for something to do. Seeing everyone wearing shoes, he became a vendor of his own product. He specialized in cheap and tacky-looking shoes of his own design for the poor Indian women with thick ankles and absolutely no fashion sense. His industry barely turned a profit.

Magdalena was the worker bee of the two. She had a thriving business. She kept chickens in the back yard. Getting up before the chickens, she slaughtered them to sell in the Chen-Bech market. Without his wife helping him, Antonio would never have been able to make a living.

The two of them spent most all day, every day in the market. He would tinker and nap. She would work like a Turk. She hardly allowed any time for any activity other than daily prayer meetings with a Holy Roller evangelical Catholic sect. That stuff was all she ever talked about: healing by laying on of hands, speaking in tongues, prophesy and apparitions and the end days. She was an engaging person and though her conversation would be tinged with fanaticism, her heart was good and she meant well.

Though she was charitably disposed in a general sense to saint and sinner, like everyone else she had deep resentments toward her sister. These resentments contributed to her judgmental, self-righteous, and sanctimonious attitude. She was excessively critical of the wanton conduct and lavish lifestyle of her older sister. She was constantly harping on the same things over and over again. She based her moralizing on ethics and religious doctrine.

Her unbalanced intolerance concerning the character defects of her older sister verged on pathological self-righteous and her preachy ways seemed hypocritical when juxtaposed with Don Antonio's brutish behavior as when her husband had bullied and intimidated his mother-in-law until she left the ancestral home.

The property, once an estate outside the city gates of Merida, was now dead center of the thriving and teeming commercial and cultural capital of the mythic Mexican state of Yucatan. The property, houses, gardens and courtyards, a compound extending over two city blocks, was worth a lot of money. Don Antonio, a vulgar, cruel, and selfish little man, was given to boast, "Mine! All this property is mine." He loved to tell the world how important he was though he earned just enough for a pot to piss in.

Toward la Casa Salazar tramped, stumbled, staggered, and swayed a lonely and embittered middle aged woman with her knight gallant, a little cripple who was straining under her weight trying to keep her on her feet and going in the right direction. Stumbling into the wall and nearly falling, his pathetic little withered leg flapped at every step.

A look of bewilderment was on his face. Bewilderment was conjoined with pride in doing the right thing! He knew he was the hero in the affair. Rapture and entrancement animated his comically unhandsome face. He felt truly inspired and knew without doubt he was making a great show.

Somehow, the witnesses to this mythical pageant of valor just didn't get it! They were witnesses to divine afflatus but could not see what was happening right before them. An idiot cripple boy had been transfixed and transformed into a godly hero! Right before their eyes, a man-god confronted and overcame his destiny as an insignificant cretin and outcast from society to be the one to salvage hope and love but they did not see it!

They saw him as they had always seen him. They saw him as Lecho, the neighborhood cripple and village idiot. This was what he was and would always be to them. Lecho! Lecho! Lecho! Poor bastard!

They got to the door of the house and went in. They crossed over from the salon and went into the adjacent bedroom. Edid lurched for the bed with her arms around Lecho's frail body. She pulled him into bed and on top of her. This haughty and desirable lady of means and taste had Lecho in love's embrace. She and her crippled knight were holding on to each other, face to face, breast to breast, and belly to belly. His phallus had entered the vulva. Their lips were touching. Impassioned and swooning, her legs were hiked up and spread wide open.

This boy looked like a child although he was a man. He had never done something like this before. He was simply amazed! His good eye darted about the room. He could see all the faces looking at him. He was thinking, not in words but in an instinctual way, "Is this so? Is this really happening?"

Yes, dear one. It is so. It is really happening. A handsome, voluptuous woman is holding and rocking you dearly and gently in her arms!

Her legs snaked around his hips. Her dress was up around her waist. Her legs and hips, all her femininity, was open. She writhed and undulated. She took him inside her. As she hunched in unconscious passion, he came.

Yes, dear one! It is truly so. These words sounded huskily from an impassioned female throat: "Mi amor, te quiero, mi amor."

Don Antonio, Magdalena, their children, and the neighbors who heard the commotion and came to see what was going on; all gave witness. No one could believe it! Right before their very eyes! No one could believe it!

After the initial surprised silence, everyone was laughing uncontrollably. This was the most hilarious thing any of them had ever seen! All they ever thought was funny was nothing compared to this! Lecho getting it on! The funniest thing ever! Lecho and Edid! "Ha ha!"

The lovemaking on the bed in the middle of the room, in the center of a teeming tropical city, on the North American continent, on the planet earth, in the solar system, on one of many spiraling arms of the Milky Way galaxy, a universe among billions of universes; this act of copulation, funny to them, was so much more than a joke. This was union of two souls for a sacred purpose.

The hero and his beloved were engaged in a divine ritual designed to sanctify and to consecrate the world. Here in the very center of god's creation, at the heart of existence, two souls offering themselves in the supreme sacrifice of personal interests for the greater good. Their offering brought to fulfillment the earth's commitment of two beings in sexual congress to enact the rhapsody of all time . . . As Lecho and Edid were joined, their union depicted the coming together of our parents, Adam and Eve, chosen seminaries of the human race. Their being together like this was to work the magical and spiritual spell of human love.

As precious, delicate crystal broken to pieces, the magical and spiritual spell of human love was smashed to pieces. Spirit was chained. The flight of two souls launched to heaven aborted to stay earthbound. An oath of severity was blasphemed. A few harsh and cynical words from the mouth of Don Antonio were all it took to rid the air of the perfumed smell of the magical and spiritual spell of human love.

The spell was broken. Judgment had been rendered. Don Antonio blasted and bellowed these words: "Basta! Enough! Take that drunken slut out of here! In the name of decency, enough is enough!"

But the joy? You must not interfere! Break the spell and all is lost. Remember the tears and the pain of love and love lost! There is hope for redemption through healing love! The feeling! What about that feeling? A love so pure has to be set free! Love will make things better! Just give it a chance!

The moment is gone. The promise of the moment is lost. Only a fading memory lingers in the soul of the world; a memory and the faint aroma, strange and seductive, of the perfumed smell of the magical and spiritual spell of human love. The smell shall not fade but is to maintain its body forever in simple hearts and in the soul of the world. The world's soul is so weary and worn out! Our wreck of a world needs love. The world needs to love; to be loved! Yet love is taken away! "Don't take it! Give love back to us! Give it back!"

It is too late for these lovers. That boy and that bitch! No way! Some things are plausible. Some things can never be. Leave it to crazy dreamers! It is not meant to be.

The sun is going down.

Yet and only so, dusk in the tropical sultriness brings an intoxication, even to those in sobriety, as the mingling of the low and the high, the fallen and the yet to be up risen; such is life in Merida, Yucatan.

### CHAPTER SIX

"THE FORLORN WARRIOR, a misspent incarnation"

Upon returning to consciousness, he found awareness of mental and spiritual realms only. Neither physical sensation nor sensual stimulation ascended to the new found, subliminal state of being. Rather than former impressions of darkness and a sense of the ponderousness of the void of nothingness, he felt himself to be surrounded and penetrated by a golden and diffused light. Dead to the senses, his vibrant and alive consciousness was receptive to a divine influx of instruction, spiritual teachings coming from on high, seeming to come from within, welling up from his interiors, from his own being. In a state of rapport, he listened to the still, small voice of his own conscience there to guide him.

The law of karma impels each of us unerringly to the race and nation where will be found the cultural affinity and the national character most appropriate for the manifestation of that individual's personality and character; those traits, tendencies, and talents that were dominant in previous lives. Thus, we are born ready fit for the homes, families, and societies most suitable for us as we go on in the business of personal growth and soul evolvement. Life situations might appear to be a matter of chance but these things are determined by who we are and what we have done for ourselves and in the service of others. We may fool the world. We may put up a good front and deceive public opinion. We cannot be false and disingenuous when we are sitting in judgment of ourselves and are summoned to answer for how we have lived.

In the end, everybody knows the truth about themselves. We know where we belong. Any reward or punishment coming to us is determined by what we deserve. Unerringly, incarnation will be as the person and in the circumstances as should be!

Tendencies, predilections, innate abilities, the flaws and defects of human nature; that which is us is who we will be! Therefore, our aim in life and the ideals we take unto ourselves are critical for proper development. The ideals and guiding principles in one life will be the circumstances of the next. Consequently, a wayfarer who is selfish, low class, vulgar, and irreverent shall be privileged to enjoyment of a repeat performance, staging his one-man show and he plays his part so well.

The Doctrine of Karma

As a man sows so must he reap. Each is the maker of his own destiny. For as a man may build to evil, he may build to good.

Resistance of wrong thought and act and the alignment of one's inner being with divine and creative impulses when these aspects appear here on earth is a necessary task of one who declares for truth and righteousness. Alignment of self with one's higher impulses insures that the environment will be replete with opportunity for good.

" . . . Come forth! The day of Brahma dawns morning light revealing a revolving door opening, closing on another cycle of the living raised up from the dead. Spiraling onward, the wheel of Samsara will ascend to descend again."

Every one of us is inexorably drawn by the currents of destiny. We greet death to be born anew, to die again, over and over, again and again, from a living consciousness bathed in light to darkness in the obscurity of the tomb.

"Now, relive your immediate past incarnation. This process of self-analysis will help so that you understand why things happen as they do, as they must! You must be brutally honest with yourself in this process of self-analysis. Honesty is necessary for self-realization. In the end you will be better prepared for that which will come your way. Review the past. Then, preview the future. In this vision of the future, see the opportunities that might present themselves to you and have foreknowledge of potential shortcomings and pitfalls for which you must be wary. Be warned and forearmed against trial and adversity. Though problems and suffering are inevitable you are being given the way to endure and rise up to your true nature and overcome weakness and want.

"You are on a quest seeking your true self and the meaning of life. Born into a world of chaos and strife, your environment will prove to be unsettling as it is to be inured in conflict and contradictions. Normally, the quest for truth and meaning is fulfilling. At the end of a productive life, the seeker of goodness and truth will realize that he has gained deeper insight into the nature of life on earth. Deeper insight gives him inner peace and a spiritual cast of mind. In your situation, however, the benefit that might have been justified at one point in your life will be cancelled out by error in thought and deed. You make a conscious choice and turn from what you know is proper behavior and this decision has consequences. You no longer are worthy. The law of consequences automatically comes in to play. And it is your own judgment that you forfeit the guidance and protection that springs from the invisible realms.

"Heredity and the fortuitous circumstances of the formative years had served you well giving the foundation of a culture for good. In youth's blushing fullness, idealism was the key to your personality. Yet, dormant lay a restless impulsiveness that foreshadowed doom.

"Compulsive urgency to restlessness was somewhat ameliorated by urgings for union, a total immersion in love. This inner condition of your psyche projected from the subconscious found expression in the form and features of your 'heavenly bride.' She is known to you as Laetitia, she of joy and delight. She is your childhood playmate.

"The two of you were supposed to get married. The marriage was not to be as social upheaval and an adverse economy precipitated war leading to disaster and despair.

"You are to be one among the millions adversely affected. You lose your home. You lose your family. You lose the girl you love. You try to fill the void in your life by indulging in unwholesome, riotous debauchery acquiring a craving for blood and lust. The savagery of combat and the electric thrill of forcing sex on women dominate your every thought. You leave a trail of blood and tears, of maimed victims and sexually abused women. This pathological penchant for destruction is to be your undoing. You emerge from this period of harsh and cruel sensuality as a depraved cynic. By outward appearances you seem unfeeling, as if you could care less. But the truth of the matter is that you are beset by a deep-seated guilt which cannot be shaken from its place inside you. Dissociation of identity causes one to be vulnerable and open to attack. Dissociation fosters susceptibility to the seductions of infernal powers. Debilitation from prolonged indulgence in unlawful passions makes you easy prey. Witchcraft's beguilements are too much for your weakened will to resist. You give yourself over to fascination and end up possessed, body and soul, by unclean spirits. Your will power has been suppressed. Eternal damnation looms. You can save yourself only by harkening to the inner voice of conscience, but, that voice has been silenced."

The inner voice of his conscience had been silenced. Yet, faint murmuring in his heart stirred a lost memory. He had a vision of a girl he never married but whose memory bore the sweetest aroma of goodness and of hope. This girl, Laetitia, meant more to him than anyone or anything.

She had been with him from the first days he could remember. He called her 'sister.' She is a symbol of his higher idealism. She is a projection of his innermost self. He thought only she could save him, only she could help. He did not understand that it was not she who compelled him to be idealistic. Rather, nobility and goodness are innate qualities inspired by the soul and not birth nor upbringing.

These subtle distinctions are ambiguous requiring explaining which will come as the intricacies of personal evolvement are set forth. Just know this: the 'spiritual bride' that fills every child and every mature and hardened man with longing in his primal scream in the darkness of night, in pre-dawn whispering to self of self 's love songs, in unspoken and wistful prayer is, has been, and forever will be none other than himself, his one true self.

The voice falls silent. It is now apparent. One finds union, meaning, and purpose in life only through the process of self-examination. Happiness and peace of mind will come with self-realization when one realizes that he, and he only, is to account for the unfolding of destiny.

Introduction to Warrior

Among his early memories: those dream visions born on another plane, the transitional plane during an interval of time when one 'dies' to the old ways and is born into a fresh physical sheathing which clothes and conceals the finer vibratory vehicles that make up the whole; the body is penetrated and composed of material, etheric, astral, mental, and spiritual essences. To the pragmatic and materialistic, these essences, being immaterial and unobservable by the objective consciousness, are relegated to the category of speculative with no basis in fact. What cannot be seen and touched is not given credibility by scientists trained to rely on objective consciousness. The mysterious and ephemeral nature of the spiritual plane of being remains largely unexplored by the scientific community. These actualities are denied out of existence by the uninitiated multitude.

Even so, here is where truth resides. These essences, the etheric, astral, mental, and spiritual bodies of man, survive death and the dissolution of the physical body to rise up into the ethereal to wait. In due season, these essences (vested with memory and soul personality) are attracted to a developing fetus in an expectant mother's womb. Awaiting rebirth, an old soul in a new body, his character traits and emotional tendencies are as they were at death. In this disembodied state the awaiting soul personality is accorded a glimpse into the trials and ordeals that are to shape and influence personality and character in the incarnation at hand: his earliest and most inspiring memories were of 'sister.'

As a little boy, he instinctively followed the way as shown by 'sister.' She uncannily distilled from his normal thoughts an elixir of powers and potencies. She drew from him his innate tendencies and inbred sensibilities. Her way of eliciting the best in him kept him bound to her. Always, in their play together and in the fancies of his imagination, he saw himself as her protector. He was her noble knight. She was his fair maiden, pure and lovely. His only purpose in life was to do as she asked of him. Her purpose to him, he supposed, was inspiration and guidance.

He accepted her strict discipline as a well-trained creature accepts the restraints of his trainer. Obvious to him, she knew best. As his preceptor she would conduct sessions where she discoursed on manners, ethics, philosophy, art, and literature.

So strong did she impress him that he sensed her presence even when he was alone. She was in his dreams and in his reveries. She calmed him, mollifying his rash and impulsive nature to meld his explosive personality with a hypersensitive heart and his self-absorbed mind.

Introduction, Part II

These conscious and subconscious gleanings of self as to the dual nature of man, the objective world that is known through our senses; this is the world we know and with which we are comfortably familiar. This is the environment for work, social interaction, birth, marriage, and death. This world is based on status where power and prestige rule through wealth.

Another world exists where things may not be as they seem. This other world is subjective and is unfamiliar to most people. This world is not readily accessible. A higher type of functioning is required to interpret the phenomena of this world. To process the ways of the subjective world requires a high degree of psychic development. Most people in our modern civilization, especially in the western societies, have allowed the psychic facilities to atrophy. Modernity is overly dependent on objective consciousness and undeveloped in the psychic, the world of dreams and of intuition.

Considering the importance of psyche and the lack of psychic awareness among us, compensation is needed. This means that the person who is confronting the psyche needs a mediator. The mediator most often and in most people takes form as a guide and teacher of the opposite sex who appears to us in dreams, visions, and in times of crisis when the persona is in need of fortification. In Jungian dream analysis, as pioneered by Carl Jung, this archetypical figure is known as the anima. Her masculine counterpart appearing in the dreams of girls and women is the animus.

All dreams that revolve around a person of the opposite gender who functions mysteriously having multiple dimensions or personalities are representative of the anima/animus archetype. This ethereal personage (anima) relates in the subconscious in surprising ways. It is not an uncommon experience that she come to the dreamer as sexy and alluring and unabashedly flaunting her erotic nature.

Sexual undertones in our dreams and reveries may be constructive and beneficial if the anima is nurturing. Conversely, she might appear as a she-devil, a femme fatal. What determines how she comes forth is the character of the projections from the subconscious of the dreamer. The projections populate the psychic environment and interact with projections emanating from the psyche of others as well as previous projections of the dreamer. As is the pattern in humans, projections of thought forms attach themselves to existing thought forms and attach to living people as well. Naturally, the projections, thought forms, and living persons act and react upon one another in a dynamic exchange causing the reflections of the original projections and subsequent ones to return to their origins inside the minds of the people involved.

Further, the anima enters into our romantic involvements. We project our inner anima archetype out into our environment and this projection from the subconscious will, unfailingly, attach itself to any and all available females of our choosing. This dynamic interaction will explain the conflict in relationships when inner expectations go unmet. The person we thought we knew and understood is not the person of our projection. This person has her own ways that are different than the idealization we project.

Consciousness is split into objective and subjective components. Another way to say this; our minds have a duel nature being divided into two parts; the objective and rational consciousness and the subconscious. Objective consciousness relies exclusively on the information transmitted from the outside world to the brain by the five objective senses; seeing, hearing, and tasting, smelling, and tactile stimulation. Objectivity is typified as masculine.

The psyche is the unconscious/subconscious part of man. The psychic self is typified as feminine because of its functioning as the intuitive, emotional and feeling part of our mental framework.

The duel nature, rational objectivity and the subconscious realm of psyche, is depicted symbolically in the marriage ceremony. In marriage male and female join as one. This union of two becoming one is better understood to symbolize the assimilation of the objective and masculine aspects of consciousness into the feminine and subjective psychic components of self and of consciousness. A bible story speaks to this. The parable is of Jesus and the wedding party at Cana. This depiction is the familiar account of water that is turned into wine. The bridegroom in the parable is given garments especially for him to wear. His celestial bride also wears special garments. She wears robes of spirit substance. The bedchamber matrimonial is sanctified and made holy. The ritual of consecration is preparatory for the eminent union of groom and bride.

The groom and bride united as one represents man's dual nature. The union is of the outer and profane with the inner and sacred, male with female. Thus will come a time of promise and glory when man will behold, in all her splendor and glory, the spiritual beloved! Duality will become as one in eternal perfection.

We tarry a while longer until this dream of perfection is the will of humankind on all planes and on all worlds. We wait that humankind be tempered by trial of fire and emerges pure and strong. He must be ready and able to stand as an upright pentagram with purity and strength and to be true to purpose.

It is a man's privilege and a blessing from heaven to have the guidance and protection of preternatural entities and those of us in conscious rapport with the cosmic mind have distinct advantages over those without. It is a bitter truth that most of us have forfeited privilege. Essential to privilege are noble ideals and innate goodness. Those having these advantages must stand firm with the ones of us who are less prepared that we all may gain the blessings of our divine heritage. The forfeiture of guidance and protection is a calamity. The misfortunates of our number who do not carry on with us inevitably suffer a series of unhappy events in their lives. Taken in total their life story eerily looks like a veritable 'fall from grace.' One questions the foolishness of men. One questions why men live so carelessly.

It is no mystery nor is it a coincidence that the outworking of destinies in men will follow a pattern. The pattern has been decreed efficacious by Divine Wisdom, that the yearnings of self be addressed and an answer be formulated assuming the image of Self. The Self (Psyche) weds self. Self (Psyche) is in rapport with the out workings of the unconscious and projects into the environment the character of this psychic content. These projections take material form to populate earth according to self's inner (psychic) nature.

More in the way of explanation is forthcoming that we may understand the modes and methods, the intricacies and wherewithal of how psyche functions and the role of psyche in personal growth.

Introduction, Part III

His earliest and most pleasing memories were of his sister. Oh, she was not a sister in the familiar sense. Rather, she was a cousin by marriage. Convenience and happenstance, they were in each other's company from the beginning as little children. Later, as adolescents, they shared a tutor. They were the same age and had similar tastes and abilities. Naturally, a deep affection developed between them.

Childhood must fade into the past. Their growing up had been a happy time. An extreme reversal of situation came into their world. The pallor of death and despair changed their world forever!

Born into a world of chaos and strife, the comfort and security of their childhood belied how the world really was! Undercurrents of social upheaval boiled over to become a torrent of torment that overwhelmed the people of the region. Everyone was affected. Even the rich and high class suffered. Nothing could ease the suffering. Chaos and strife, this was how the world rolled!

Rival ethnicities are organized into nation states that compete for resources and cultural supremacy. Inured in their tribal identities, hostilities are inevitable. The leaders of a country will glorify the collective self. The plan is to pump up the populace and garner support for their policies.

In times of crisis, propaganda and the control of information are useful tools readily made use of by the power elite to manipulate public opinion. To deflect opposition to wrongheaded designs, the will of God is invoked that unprovoked aggression against the enemy be sanctioned as just.

The rule of law is not, nor has it ever been, the guiding principle of our leaders and institutions. Might makes right is the credo behind closed doors though publicly the leaders are sanctimoniously mouthing platitudes about security and defense.

Ignoring the common good, denial of a common bond that should unite and sustain mankind, the ruling class has seized control and the very pylons of civilization are threatened by their greed and corruption.

Heads of state betray their citizens by inventing false pretenses for war. When lawful economic competition is subverted, the less aggressive nations will be forced to resist or submit to tyranny. Diplomats act like petulant little boys and girls. They bicker over the most asinine matters and do not negotiate honestly and sincerely on issues of supreme importance.

Since all the distrust comes from an unnatural lust for social, economic, and cultural supremacy, corruption and disillusion affect all the people and their institutions. In such a world, our world devoid of principle, everyone, from the renowned men of letters and the highest office holders to misshapen miscreants of malfeasance inhabiting life's shadowy alleys, engage themselves in criminal behavior.

The power elites pretend to safeguard the public good. Instead, they are unprincipled. The hidden intent of state rhetoric is the domination of the forum so they can influence public opinion. They use propaganda to give false impressions. They plant seeds of fear and suspicion to stir up the population against an enemy. Amplifying the drumbeat to increase the public fervor, misrepresentations and outright lies are pervasive in campaigns to meld public opinion against perceived threats. The underbelly of patriotic rhetoric is the deliberate, immoral use of false flag operations to implicate other countries in acts of aggression against the people using one's own weapons and soldiers to do the dirty work. The population is continually subjected to the specter of threats to the homeland security to justify the erosion of civil liberties. Using state of the art electronic technology, surveillance has morphed into a shadow government monitoring everything we do from cradle to grave.

Secrecy, suspicion, slander, slavery, and slaughter! This has always been the way of doing business in our world of chaos and strife. Our kings and rulers have taken as their solemn duty the stuffing of their private coffers and keeping the status quo, their dominant status, no matter the cost in human toil and suffering. And, the waging of total war is the trump card of choice to get the world unsteady and pliable.

Tragically, those most damaged by war, the soldiers and their innocent victims, have been robbed of honor and dignity. They have nothing to rally them that might give them solace and purpose and the will to struggle and endure.

Bah! To the rulers and kings whose reign is offensive and indecent. The ship of state is amiss and adrift. It flounders near disaster. Your time is coming! You, all of you, will drown in the rising torrents of the sea of discontent!

Born into a world of chaos and strife that breeds a vulgar citizen, he, as to morality, is a marked contrast to prevailing loose standards. Yet, seeds of perfidy will gestate to take root and grow to taint even those of high standards. Chance or circumstance, an ill-fated chain of events may overwhelm a man of noble aspirations. In an emotional tide of grief and sorrow he stumbles upon a twisted path that leads to the junction of good and misfortune. In a moment of opaque sight

he wanders from reason. Error leads away from hope to a loss of grace.

Born into a world of chaos and strife and with no calling in life, no raison d' etre like the fortunate sons born into luxury and raised from childhood with a feeling of self-importance and entitlement: having no ready and made-to-order business or trade, he had limited opportunities. He was directed to the only respectable career for which he was suited. He became a professional soldier.

His mental orientation agreed with the ideals of soldiering. He craved to live life to its fullest, to experience the highs and the lows, seeking adventure, as a knight on a quest. Life as a warrior suited him! It was a warrior he became! Born into a world of chaos and strife, it was a warrior he became.

He went off to battle as to a crusade. He would be a holy warrior. He took himself very seriously. He felt like he was on a quest. He wanted to be a hero recognized by all! He was doing this to prove himself to the world and to Laetitia. He had not grown out of the play acting in the games of his childhood. He still lived in the world of fair damsels in distress and of knights to the rescue.

He soon awoke from his daydream. He was made painfully aware his delusions. War is not noble and honorable! War is a career that chastens and hardens the soul. Being an idealist with a penchant for chivalry, he was assaulted by brutal and atrocious conduct going on all around him. Romantic and sentimental by nature and breeding, his nerves were sensitive and his heart vulnerable to hurt and disillusion when harsh realism set in to dispel his naïve and preconceived notions.

War masquerades gaily plumed and wearing trappings of nationalistic jingoism. War dons a mask of glory. War is thinly disguised. War's undressing reveals a naked and famished beast that devours everything in its way. Populations are decimated. Families are chewed up and spit out. War is a phantasm of hellish terror. Innocent victims survive death to be broken and humiliated by capricious and sadistic bullies. War leaves heartache. The ebb and flow of human events acerbated by war deposits ruin; the aftereffects of complete devastation will stay on a very long time after all traces of bloody froth vanish from the land.

The warrior suffered a grievous loss. His family and his beloved Laetitia had been trapped in the besieged city. After a long siege, the city had been overrun to be occupied by enemy soldiers. As the home was being torn asunder, furnishings desecrated, those living in and around the occupied zone were at the mercy of calloused and vengeful soldiers who, likely as not, became objects who might be sexually abused, then, viciously put to death. He was doing the same thing in the cities of the enemy.

At first he did not do the things he saw others do. He stayed away from raping and killing innocent victims. But, like unto so many of the boys engaged in the art of war, he became desensitized to suffering. So much tragedy! The shock and horror became commonplace. He would go about the business inflicting slaughter and mayhem as a Zombie, unfeelingly. And some of these boys were actual berserkers in their relish for blood. They pillaged the homes of the civilian population. They seized upon wives and virgin daughters having their way with them, requiring them as cooks and maids and sex toys. After a period of incessant exposure to scenes and episodes of horror, he, too, came to revel in the spoils of war!

The warrior came to know the wicked ways of the wicked, wicked world. His knowledge was thorough and complete, as one learns from hands on experience, always front row and center, wreaking terror on innocent victims. Inwardly, he was repulsed by the criminality. He felt intense dislike for himself. He cringed inwardly thinking about his own considerable crimes against humanity. Even so, to appearances he cared not a whit. He laughed at the hapless plight of the raped and ravaged, helpless and homeless.

Hostilities eased and a general truce was declared. Both sides in the conflict were exhausted and neither side felt confident that they were winning. He was given a furlough. He did not hesitate. He left immediately to return to his home, family, and girlfriend. He knew from second hand reports the homeland had been sorely tested by siege and occupation. But, siege had been partly broken and the occupation forced to withdraw from the center of the city to its perimeters and a general armistice was soon declared. A negotiated treaty restored the borders to their original position with only minor adjustments. It seemed as if the war had been fought for nothing!

He had not had news from anyone about how everyone had gotten along. Even so, he could scarcely imagine something going wrong. Just remember! These were his people and his people had been taught to fight and taught to win.

He made it through the lines and through the outlying districts of his city. He saw destruction and chaos, suffering and dead people. Aghast, he stood looking at ruination at every turn of the highway leading home. In every town and village, burned houses and barns, abandoned storefronts, unplowed fields, and pastures with no animals in them gave him a sense of dread. Stunned by what he saw, the ultimate shock was upon his arrival at his home. He had come home to nothing! This was the day his hope and happiness died!

Looking for family, he found them at last. Searching frantically for Laetitia, he finally found her and all the others entombed in the family crypt. He had once been a mighty warrior. This day he was one of the vanquished. He once was a mighty warrior! Yea, on this day he was one of the vanquished!

He stood motionless before the sealed crypt. He stood motionless with his eyes downcast. He stood perfectly still and confronted himself in his aloneness. He stared into the barren recesses of his black heart. Standing motionless, he knew with finality that he was a perversity. His body unwavering, his vacant eyes told more than a bard could tell in a thousand words, yea, a thousand million words in any language, modern or dead; long forgotten vowel sounds and consonants to tell tales of love and loss and death; lost love so bitter and death so bittersweet! His lament: "Doomsday! Come over me! Come in silence! Doom come over me as a shroud to hide me away! Loss! Loss! My family! My one true love! All is loss and nothingness!"

' **The Forlorn Warrior, a misspent incarnation** "

The once brave and proud, in love or in war; the one who vowed his every part to honor and dignity: the once mighty warrior came dejectedly to this highland seeking no new horizons. His eyes were downcast and vision tunneled to the dank and gloomy landscape below. He went down into the valley. His heart and body ached. He was remorseful. He longed for the past. He remembered how he once felt spiritual. Once, he had been happy. He remembered his life of glory. He had been a great warrior. He remembered his triumphs of passion. He was a great lover. He had a meaningful life and a sense of purpose that promised eternal grace, as the grace that was his gift from God before his fall and his 'innocence lost!'

He was no more the "Holy Warrior," the superior defender of truth, of justice. His vow to purity had been compromised. The consecration of self to a higher purpose had been abandoned. He had violated his pledge to marriage in his lustful and cruel behavior. Justice had been delivered to him in kind.

For all he knew they had put her in a brothel and advertised her as the new whore of Babylon who had been taken from a Temple dedicated to chaste Diana but whose vows were now to sensate lust! He was thoroughly disgusted with life but he was no innocent.

He had become jaded and corrupted by his wartime experiences and taken to the commission of foul and unseemly deeds of blood lust insatiable and carnal lust insatiable being cruel and unfeeling to a vanquished foe and calloused and manipulative in affairs of the heart.

Once, lovely and loving images, dreams, and memories sustained him when times were tough. His ignominious behavior had sullied these images. With no high ideals to protect he was stripped of the aura of invulnerability. He was not the able, the swift, and the true. His misdeeds were attended by a condition of dissolution and disintegration. In this abject condition his body and soul was easy target to those like unto himself. Treacherous soldiers of fortune looking for amusement and adventure could seek him out and maim him then kill him. Yet, even more dangerous to him than this was the situation awaiting him in the shadows. Phantoms lurked in the shadows!

To be disemboweled and tortured to death would surely be agony. But, more horrible than dismemberment and death was the actual fate that waited on him. Phantoms, unclean spirits, and larvae: these non-creatures were gathering in other dimensions, circling and waiting to deal to him his insidious fate, a fate more tragic in its consequences than violent death! This was fair compensation, fair wages for his own misdeeds!

He had renounced the higher path of devotion to truth. Fully aware of what he was doing, he had forsaken his hallowed vows to the highest ideals. He had given up on himself. He had punked out! No one, man nor angel, could nor would they help him now! He had brought this tragedy upon himself.

He had withdrawn from the guidance and care that is the hallmark of the good intentioned and pure at heart who are vigilantly shepherded and instructed by celestial beings, that is to say, angels. Angels are alert when one under their care faces peril.

An angel will present himself if need be. The angel has responsibility to steer an errant child of heaven and protect the innocent and vulnerable person if he is otherwise worthy and is well qualified to be initiated into the mysteries of God's Kingdom, but only in conformity with true will. Never is the sanctity of the individual's will violated in these interactions. If one chooses a path of negation of his higher ideals so may it ever be!

This protection is not afforded to everyone. There are grades of instruction and ordeals of character to be met before a student is passed to a higher grade with the strictest of admonitions that it be of the candidate's own true will. What is here described is an ongoing process extending for lifetimes in succession. As knowledge is given and proficiency gained, doors to sacred inner sanctums will be opened and vices and superfluities will fall away as one becomes more spiritual as it was before the fall from grace when mankind forgot his true spiritual estate becoming spellbound by the allure of sensuality.

Any slip up that will take someone who is a true initiate from his goals and highest aspirations is made right so equilibrium be regained.

The administrators and technicians who shepherd us on our march to proverbial Zion are invisible to eyesight. Nonetheless, they are real. Their role and responsibility is to govern and guide us and to care for us. It is the angels who shield and defend us from any and all perverse entities. We are not even aware of these perverse and unclean spirits that co-inhabit the world we live in, trying to infect the minds of naïve and vulnerable humans as they enervate the victim and impose unsanctioned coercion upon their prey in the effort to break down the will.

Unclean spirits are real. Do not deceive yourselves nor let others mislead you into denial of their existence. If you do take lightly the threat and fall victim, be willing to accept the consequences of your actions and to pay recompense as proper. These words are not an appeal to superstition and fear. These words are to instruct.

There are those among us who, experiencing the human condition, through past lives misspent, set up a karmic condition that must be addressed in subsequent incarnations. These misfortunates have well developed predilections for negative and self-destructive thought patterns that establish unhealthy conditions of mind and body as well as disharmony in the environment in which they dwell. Having pre-conditioned themselves to loving evil and the sordid, dominated by disillusioned, unhappy states of mind, they become agents for evil. It does not matter that they be unaware of their complicity in Hell. The results will be the same as if they knew what would happen to them. Those of an unspiritual cast of mind fall easy prey to those lurking in the shadow, the seducers and manipulators of mankind. Perverse, disincarnate entities are in league with perversely inclined humans. Together, they seek to influence and to hold dominion over the weak and less cunning among us. These perfidious beings use their perverse powers to subvert the wills of the passive and those who already have the kernels of evil within the fertile seed beds of their hearts.

Preying on the ones who are ready hosts, they come as invited guests. In the dark of the night they sneak into the sleeping chamber to rape the host and desecrate the boudoir. The powers of suggestion, evil magnetism, mesmerism, and hypnotic induction: these tools of the Black Arts are used in the seduction and manipulation of the victims. Possession, obsession, ignominy, and death are the certain fates of those who err to take this path. Certain and sure, the Devil will strangle even his own sorcerers!

A bedraggled, forlorn, and forsaken warrior came down from the highlands into the foreboding valley. His weapon was a pitted and tarnished sword with a broken tip. A clean and sharpened point would have given protection from the larval spectral forces he was to meet. Instead of alertly proceeding with the sword pointed to meet danger, he was dragging the sword behind him, etching a wavering line in the sand and loose gravel. He was exposed and essentially unarmed. He was not ready to confront danger. He was not aware as he was being drawn, body, psyche, and soul, toward doom.

The Fool and the Maiden

Descending, he heard strange and hypnotic melodies, cadences affecting a peculiar music. He heard melodies intertwining, convergent, divergent; an enchanting melody parlayed into a wild and frenzied song celebrating folly and madness, then, soft and soothing again. The music enchanted and enticed him, beckoning him on. Directly, he came upon a most peculiar scene.

A fool appeared before him, a fool in repose. Then, the fool stood up. He was of imposing stature. The fool commanded a clearing within a wild, reckless, and tangled glen. The fool played upon a violin. As the fool played, images, (surely the images were hallucinations coming out of his overwrought imagination); as the fool played the violin, these images, a phantasmagoria of shape and color whirled and danced, seemingly at the fool's command.

Girls, nubile and pubescent, mature women voluptuously beautiful, breasts swollen with milk, and toothless hags, wrinkled and with shrunken paps: all danced seductively. Their partners in this ritualistic dance of lust were wizened old men whose appearance and manners resembled more the satyrs and beasts than the refinement generally considered the estate of man. All danced and twirled, seemingly at the fool's command.

Carnal desire, mixed and mingling with bitterness and disappointment; disillusion, dishonor, self-deception, and disgrace: these were the warrior's innermost feelings.

The fool's serenade came to an abrupt halt. He was smiling cunningly and to himself, as if he had anticipated the warrior. The notes of the music faded to nothingness. The images of dancing, reveling, and ribaldry vanished to nothingness. The fool and the warrior were now alone within the tangled glade.

This treacherous fool, one of the devil's own sorcerers, was motionless as he stood in front of the warrior. He appeared to be entranced. Of a sudden he began to move approaching the warrior, making wild gestures, uttering demonic noises, straight toward him, unnervingly close; palms outward, arms extended, gesticulations unceasing, weaving a magnetic web, a snare of negative, miasmic polarity.

Smiling in cunning and derision, the sorcerer's outer form changed. In outward appearance the sorcerer changed from a

fool playing violin into a sleek and gallant nobleman, still advancing, gesticulating, and weaving a magnetic web.

The warrior felt his strength and self-assertiveness ebbing. His head was swimming. Vertigo had nearly overcome him. Mesmerized, he had lost control. His mind was frozen in a state of abstraction. Another's mind, another's will was infringing upon his mind to constrain his will, taking control, possessing his body to impede his will. He had no ability to resist what was happening to him. Detached from his body he could merely observe. Passively witnessing the unfolding events, he could not exert his will.

Finally and irremediably, he stood possessed. He had been evicted from his most sacred dwelling, his physical body. He could no longer think rationally. Any desire to do good, all sense of decency, propriety, and urges to follow the voice of conscience and the promptings of the higher self no longer compelled him. Inner guidance had been repressed. His will and the will of the malevolent one had merged.

The face and form of the malevolent one changed again. This time it took the form of a most fetchingly seductive maiden. She seemed chaste and pure. The way she acted was anything but chaste as she came ever so close to him. Her lips were almost touching his lips. Her lips and the breath issuing from them served as an intoxicant. He was close to swooning when she jabbed him with rigid thumb and fingers in the hollow softness below ribs and breastbone. He felt breath forcibly leaving his lungs. He was not able to inhale. He was choking and out of breath.

Breathing on him, she murmured, "Have you a desire to learn our Art?"

He murmured assent.

"Do you lust for power over all creatures here on earth?"

Head nods assent.

"Do you renounce celestial and heavenly guidance?"

He assented.

"Will you go in league with these black angels here assembled?"

"Yes."

"Swear alliance, fealty, and abiding kinship with the black princes, monstrous creations, and the larvae and unclean spirits that prevaricated from the divine First Estate to be consigned to the material world where they stand fast in prevarication!"

"I swear."

"Will you take this blood oath in Hell?"

"I will."

And it was done.

Though he had entered into an infernal covenant that could never be broken, yet sounded a small voice, the voice of self. From deep within, the voice sounded with remorse and condemnation. He had renounced the good and the beautiful and the true. He had renounced his cherished ideals. His honor was lost forever! Now his life and dreams were worthless.

Time passed in a glazed and meaningless frenzy of misdeeds. He had become a slave to passion. He had nothing to anchor and subdue him being the tool of his mentors, those who had initiated him into the Black League, the Brotherhood of the Shadow. He had to do as told.

Now the prime force, the reason for his being, was that he participates in rites and rituals serving to give expression to unwholesome desires and to bring others into the Black League, the Brotherhood of the Shadow. He would go out into the world to get ambitious and self-serving candidates. His method was to infiltrate social circles of vainglorious and ethnocentric persuasions, unprincipled and class-conscious elitists. Then, it was not difficult to cultivate his subjects. He would appeal to their vanity. He would address the issue of cultural dominance and natural selection being justification for continuous control of the underclass through whatever means practical and expedient that the rich and powerful remain in their stations. He would expostulate as to the breeding of the upper class implying that wealth and culture were proof of genetic superiority which gave the ruling class its prerogative to dominate, subjugate, and control the masses. Corrupt economic models supported by dishonest political machinations must be maintained no matter the cost in moral values. He would demonstrate the methods to the more talented and most corrupt among the candidates that came his way. He showed them how to use the common man's baser instincts of fear and innate selfishness to control public opinion to subjugate the will of the people and coerce the people to give up the right to self-determination by ceding power to the ruling elite. The ultimate goal was to create a world with a permanent class system that would eventually split into totally distinct races.

These inner character traits that herald the best in man are innate in every one of us from birth unto death. But, these innate tendencies for good can be pushed to the side by appeals to greed and the preaching of want and fear to bring out man's inordinate selfishness. "Make them think that selfishness is the higher law! Make them forget they are here to serve anyone but themselves!"

More insidious even than this, class warfare is being waged. The weapons used in class warfare are status and glamour and terrific armed force to silence the masses and their voices of freedom proclaiming the eternal quest of mankind's divine right to self -determination.

Maidens, virgins must be seduced that they are deflowered, despoiled, demeaned, and degraded. Life and love and everything that is precious and holy? Life is to be reviled, cheapened and debased. Love is to be made a mockery.

As a willful participant in infernal ceremonies, the forlorn warrior insured his most certain and eternal damnation. After a probationary process, he rose in rank and assumed the station of chief in initiatory ritual. He would serve his mentors in many ways; by recruitment of suitable candidates, the training and re-education that would break their will power to resist that which violates conscience. Then, he would seduce them by trickery or whatever means necessary, to swear an oath to darkness and prideful egoism.

In the final act of the Initiation, the candidate took upon himself the terrifyingly final, horribly binding and irrevocable obligatory rites of an oath that could not be broken. The obligation to the Brotherhood of the Shadow would then be signed and sealed with the candidate's own blood and semen to be delivered by him in person to the Hall of Records of the Possessed and the Criminally Insane, thereby to be divested of certain inalienable human rights and to be made subject to the fears and aberrations of the entire human race.

And the cone of power of the dark side of Mother Earth never abates in her invultuating and spellbinding as the self-appointed custodians of humanity, the kings and priests, thrive in the corrupted distortion of heavenly archetypes and the virtues thereof. Praised and acknowledged as the law unto themselves, state and religion with time-honored tradition; these anachronisms hold sway and dominate our lives even though they are distortions of the original divine archetypes. All falsity must be exposed for what it is! Falsity must be cast by the wayside! Falsity is all-powerful and it is deeply etched in the sub-consciousness of man.

And the medicaments and technology offered as health and healing is but based on lucre and deceit. These iniquitous butchers and pill pushers rely, yea, they insist upon ignorant and misinformed patients as to the natural healing and the source of all disease. This insures there will always be a steady stream of ill patients to secure excessive profiteering in their racketeering! Doctors, lawyers, priests; those with a false sense of pride and an overblown sense of self-importance glorify false values in a self-serving campaign to accrue prestige; (they think they are smarter than the rest of us). They do everything they can to dispel momentum for progressive change continuously fomenting from deep within the collective unconscious of mankind. These odiferous sons of Sodom stand in the way of Progress. And this is the climate for the Black Arts to flourish.

Doctors, lawyers, priests! You stand accused of Black Magic!

Thus, it came to him to prepare a ceremony, a High Mass to celebrate blackness, perfidy, and ignorance. The ritual was to be centered on the deflowering of a young girl just reaching pubescence and a virgin.

The ritual to be enacted was to be more dramatic even than the usual paeans to Dionysius or Pan or Shaitan. This rite was a deliberate and conceptual work of evocation of the fallen angels gathered around their chief, Samiaxas, on a high mountain, 'the Mountain of the Oath.' In this rite, the last deposes the first; Azazel becomes the head of the ten primary demons. The ceremony is horrid. It is repugnant to all but those being served, those being the ten fallen angels.

"These spirits materialize; they take on corporeal forms in order to participate in human beauty . . ."

Those to be summoned in the Evocation have a life of their own but draw strength from unsanctified sexual transgressions and from scenes of greed, hate, and violence, most especially, blood sacrifice of innocents. The vitality of innocent blood bequeaths a corrupt 'light' to whoever might indulge, to give strange abilities to manipulate the astral light and to communicate clairvoyantly, humans and demons sharing in an infernal communion, a celebration of triumphant iniquity.

The little girl was to be sexualized with the blood of her deflowering as the offering of blood!

Then, she was to be drugged, unconscious and unaware as the ceremony moved to its conclusion. In the final moments she was to be dismembered and disemboweled while still alive! Her various organs, still quivering, would be the substance composing the powders, elixirs, potions, philtres, and magical unguents for use as agents of seduction and fascination and as poisons to spread sickness, insanity, and death. Human beauty is perverted, invultuated, and misdirected to be unleashed upon an already mired and abject world.

At this propitious moment, the forces of darkness gathering power and infernal might, at the brink of the breach which was the mouth of an unspeakable chasm: at the very last of possible moments, the conscience of the warrior, his heart and soul, mind and body; his entire being exerted the will to resist, to rebel against the Legions of Darkness.

At the brink of the chasm, entryway into the involutionary vortex of 'lost' and 'forever,' from whence there would be no turning back; at the very last moment, the ceremony about to be consummated, he spirited the girl away to a safe haven. Yet, his own escape from imminent peril was not to be!

"When one creates phantoms, one must nourish the nightmare children with his very own blood and they are never satisfied!"

There is no escape from the Law of Compensation. Everyone must answer, in due time, for his actions. "Take unto oneself for a while, then, repay in kind." There is no escape from the Law of Compensation . . .

After the rebellion and his breaking of the oath he had sworn, that he would be loyal to the league of fallen angels and to evil, his life was forfeit. The devil's sorcerer, the one who had initiated him, came after him. It took only a day and some hours to be found. He had only moments to reflect upon his situation before being beset by elementals strangling and suffocating him unto death.

He died in anguish and pain. It was mental shock and physical pain to be witness to his limbs being torn from his body by dog-faced demons while still alive and gasping for life sustaining breath.

Death, Recrimination, Redemption, Rebirth

At his last breath, deep within his consciousness, at his very last moment of life, he could hear a still, small voice. The voice of his conscience spoke to him after a long silence lasting decades. This voice was inaudible, yet, of the highest resonance. Impinging on his mind, the voice spoke thusly: "O, vile, wretched, and wicked one! A precious lifetime has been wasted! You have degraded yourself! You have wallowed in sin and error!

"You had opportunity for soul growth! Opportunity was scornfully dismissed. You played with destiny treating life as a frivolous game. You relished sensuality over honor and showed us your weakness and depravity. Not only have carnal appetites controlled your every thought and deed, yours has been an even greater failing as to the squandering of higher potentialities. The Celestial Hierarchy made considerable concessions to your evolvement. You have shown us that you do not care to take responsibility.

"When things went against you after your dance with depravity, you gave in to sadness, sorrow, dejection, and despair. You had forgotten your special place and the role you were to play. These times could be used to better purpose. The guardians and teachers of your soul feel deep seated disappointment and some have suggested your transgression and betrayal are reasons to expel you from our order. Sinful debauchery and sadistic cruelty are grievous errors. The magnitude of your sins has the tincture of iniquity. You broke the oath you had sworn to uphold. This obligation was sworn before the sacred altar. Transgression bears a penalty of death.

"To shift your loyalty from the noble and all that is good and be subservient to chiefs of the Brotherhood of the Shadow, enemies who oppose and undermine our cause, is iniquitous. There will be no mercy for you. Iniquity is not lightly pardoned!

"Your fall from grace is typical of the degeneration of mankind. The Spirit of Man has been suborned to the animal soul. The sublimity of Man's original estate has been buried deep in the psyche by the passage of time. Redemptive and regenerative behaviors are disparaged as having no value in a culture that is immured in materialism. This leads to the glorification of carnality and self indulgence.

"The Spirit of Man was drawn inexorably to the allure of the animal nature. The decent from grace of the Spirit of Man was effected through seduction and witchcraft. Earth-bound Lords of the animal soul joined prevaricated larval specters in creating a devolutionary current, a spell of fascination. Unaware of the potential intrangencies in the desire for a body in which to enjoy one's sensual nature, mankind gave it all up for the pleasures of the body. As an unforeseen condition of how things were to be, the state of divine sonship was erased from memory. This is one the conditions of embodiment. The loss of the divine first estate in the world of the spirit resulted in a disheartening sense of estrangement. A consequence of conjoining the spiritual with the animal nature, fallen Mankind can never feel he is a part of the unified whole. The vast numbers of men and women here on earth are unhappy and dissatisfied. The condition of the fall is degrading. It is truly disgraceful!

"Only a few of the more advanced men and women retained knowledge of the First Estate before the fall from spirit to materiality. Knowledge of his true potential and the assurance of his divine son-ship give hope and a sense of purpose to the few as they remember who they are. Reintegration of men into the spirit will bring hope and courage to fight the good fight for heavenly truths and righteousnesses. Men of action endowed with reason and spiritual sight, though few, are now capable of progress in that direction.

"Through the trepidation of the ages, religious traditions among 'sons of heaven' have been kept alive and handed down from father to son serving to enshrine in memory Man's former glory, the fall from grace and subsequent alienation from God, the heralded coming of the 'new' man to show the way of reintegration as we remember our place as children of the Father and enter the promised golden age.

"Man is a dual-natured creature. He is both man and woman. He is androgynous. Conflict between the sexes is conflict within self. A truly integrated man/woman is the Savior and Sophia (wisdom), the queen of heaven in one body.

"Angels are sent to men to watch over them, to lead them away from evil, and to inspire them with good affections. There are spirits and angels with all men. Men are led to the Lord by spirits and angels. You are being told these things not by chance but by purpose and design. You are, by birthright, a 'son of heaven.' You have a mission that you must fulfill. No other would be absolved of his iniquities as you have been. The tests in the immediate past incarnation were designed that you would be subjected to the pattern of events that brought the original fall from grace. You experienced the same disillusion, disappointment, and seduction by infernal and earth bound spirits that led to the enslavement of Spiritual Mankind to his animal nature. Once fallen, men suffered deeper enslavement to the forces of the dark world. You went down just as all the others. You made the same mistakes. Maybe you learned something this time. Maybe, you do better next time! We will see how it goes. Good luck. The Lord and his angels go with you. You are our child. Naughty or nice, you are our child!"

Thus, every cloud has its silver lining. What had started as the most tragic of all possible outcomes to an incarnation on planet earth, ended up having undercurrents of redemption and soul growth under the guidance of Divine Hierarchy. The warrior found it to be odd that destiny would work out this way.

As the warrior continued his sojourn in the astral plane and the world of abstract thought, his thoughts were of anything but soul growth. He was more than a little dazed and confused by the whirlwind vortex that had swept him into the heavenly empyrean and thrown him downward into the abyss. Even so, the words reverberated to the very core of his being and made an impression on him that would be with him forever. He recognized that he had been privileged to receive a special, a sacred doctrine from the secret tradition that predates civilized mankind. He had been instructed in the mysteries of the Divine Hierarchy and he now had certain knowledge of the saga, a celestial drama, of his race.

As he was waiting for the time and place of his eminent reincarnation, he was thinking things over. His thoughts were of Laetitia, she of joy and delight. He kind of felt he might see her again! Funny and strange this life and death and rebirth thing!

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