Notes On Culture

Posted: September 9th, 2021 | Author: | Filed under: Far-Right, Heretical Texts, Leftists, Liberals, National Socialism, O9A, O9A Nine Angles, Occultism, Order of Nine Angles, Order of the Nine Angles, paganism, Politics, racial equity, Reichsfolk, Traditionalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Notes On Culture

.:.Before scientists and acadummies figured out the importance of Culture: David Myatt was right [I’m speaking about his Reichsfolk National-Socialism].


Source

 

It’s how Evolution and Nature works. It’s a very simple concept actually. Before animals existed on this earth, plants existed. Plants most often – by their Nature – don’t move [as in locomotion]. They stay put in place. Super ancient plants like fern make spores, pretty much like fungus do. The spores drop and scatter and then germinate into new plants. The underlying two concepts are: 1) Genetic Drift & 2) Environmental pressures. As plants grow/expand/spread further and further out, they grow in new environments and must struggle to adapt. The process of adaptation causes genetic drift. And the genetic drift causes new species of plants to arise. Which is why, in a forest of pine trees: most of the trees are pine.

Animals move. And so, animals don’t exist in “forests,” where a whole species stays put next to each other in a dense population. Because they move around, Mother Nature must devise a way for those animals to somehow find each other in order that they mate to reproduce. A primitive way is by Pheromones. Another way is by the noise each species makes. Anther way is songs [like when birds sing]. The more evolved the animal, the more ways its kind/species have to find and recognize each other.

And so for us humans, Culture, is Mother Nature’s extra way she has given to us to find and recognize each other. Culture is the social and psychic [of the psyche] glue which unites/binds/associates a folk/ethnicity/group/tribe of people together. Although we are locomotive, no matter how physically far apart we are to another human being of our culture: we know our own kind because of a shared culture [which includes language, dialect, argot, jargon, slang, subcultural lexicon, etc].

Culture did not only make us genetically human, it also via long-time interbreeding: causes Race to arise. A folk/ethnicity and a race mean two different things. And so, without culture, a race will begin to dissolve and dissipate genetically. Why so? Because culture influence genes; it influences with whom a folk/ethnic people will find attractive and breed with. There is no Asian or “Aryan” race, without an Asian or “Aryan” culture. And ideology cannot ever substitute culture. Man-made ideas [ideology and doctrine] can not ever replace or displace or subvert Nature and how Nature works.

Like Reicksfolk National-Socialism says [paraphrased]: A Culture is a numinous expression/manifestation of Nature. Culture is one way Nature expresses itself.

But: most of us don’t understand Nature and how Nature expresses itself. Everything in Nature “seeks” to be seen/noticed/beheld. Which is why, there is color in the universe. It’s mystery that the universe is not colorless. It has no eyes, but it is colorful. Like a flower has no eyes but is colorful, and has no nose but is aromatic. Like a tree has no taste buds, but produces sweet fruit.

The more evolved an organism is: the more ways it has to express itself so that it is noticed/noticeable. And it’s from a Natural competition to be noticeable that Diversity [of shape and form] come into being.

As Reichsfolk also says [paraphrased]: Because Culture is a manifestation of Nature, Culture is a living Supra-Organism.

And so as such – Culture is a living Being of Nature. And so, just as a flower has color and fragrance, and a fruit has sweet taste, and a bird has a song: Culture is sensuous [meaning that, as a living Being, Culture expresses itself in such a way where that it stimulates the senses.

And so, human Culture, as a living Being, evolves the ability/Nature to express itself via Music, Dance, and the Arts [which includes literature and poetry]. Ideology is not the Highest Expression of Culture. It’s Art in all its form. And so, a culture which has no music, no dance, no art, no literature, no poetry, no epic story [myth/folklore/etc] is like a bird without a song, like a tasteless fruit, a colorless flower: it is a dead culture. A zombie culture, a culture missing a soul. And a dead culture is too weak to hold together the genetic suchness of a Race. That Race will dissolve in time, like how the ancient Egyptian race have gone extinct. Without Tradition, your Culture is dead. Without Culture: your Race is doomed.

Reichsfolk National-Socialism:

Yes Diversity exists in the Body of Nature. But nothing in Nature is Equal to each other. The opposite of Equality is Uniqueness, which simply means that no creature and kind is the same and each creature and kind has its own look, feel, sound, suchness, etc, unique in characteristic and quality to its kind. Every flower is unique. Every fruit is unique. Diversity can’t exist at the same time as Equality in Nature: because of the Natural Law of competition [for resources].

Culture “glues” a group of people together. When that group/ordering of people speak the same language/dialect, have a common way of life, a common set of customs and observances, a common set of myths/legends/folklore, common dance, common music, common art: then a Folk [Ethnicity] comes into Being.

Folk Culture, which is Ethnic Culture, has an ancient and cool meaning. The ethnic practices and ethnic myths of a folk is: Pagan and Heathen, because such practices and myths are not Biblical or Jewish [not sanctioned or approved by their holy books and priests, and sanctimonious ideology].

Genuine Buddhism can only be found in the ideological texts of the Pali suttas and Sanskrit Sutras. On the ground level: there only exists Folk Buddhism, according to various ethnic cultures. That Folk Buddhism is Pagan: the Khmer Folk still believe in gods, an spirits, still pray to such, still believe in magic and sorcery, still practice their old ways. Same with Catholicism. On the ground level, there only exists Folk Catholics: people who pray to demi-god Saints, people who make offerings of food and drink to the Saints just like they did with their ancient pagan gods.

We are, to our respective cultures, like its cells, but also its spores. Like how a mushroom propagates more of own kind, the memeplex of a culture propagates itself through us, not just via sexual reproduction, but by spreading such folk cultural practices to other people. A folk or ethnicity remember is not a race. All of us, because we are physical cells of our respective cultures and subcultures, work – sometimes unconsciously – to spread and propagate the information patterns [memeplex] of our culture and subculture. For example: if your are a Christian: why do you try to make others into Christian? Why do you get out of it? If you are a Satanist: why do you talk about Satanism and try to get other types of Satanists to be your type of Satanism? What do you get out of it? If you speak Spanish: why do you try to teach others how to speak Spanish? Why do you try to spread Esperanto? Why does America enter foreign nations, kill their leaders, and try to spread democracy? Why do you try to spread and make people into Communists? Into Capitalists? Into Socialists? Why do you try to spread the doctrine of Egalitarianism? Because Cultures are living Beings, and like any organism: struggles for its own survival, works for its own thrift [to thrive], and according to the Law of Nature, functions to continue/propagate itself.

When I personally use the social-political term “Right,” what I mean is the above. I mean a person who simply desires to preserve and conserve their culture and Traditions. That’s all. Why? Why preserve your culture? Well for two reasons. The first reason is that your culture influences your Race. And so if you like being White, or Black, or Brown, or Yellow, or Red: then preserve your fucking culture and Traditions. Secondly: do you like having the shit in life that you enjoy, such as civil liberty, smartphones, the internet, communications satellites, cars, airplanes, medicine, science, technology, mathematics, blah, blah, blah? Then preserve your fucking culture and Traditions: because from where do those things come? From your Race. And there is no Race without Culture. If your Race goes away: all that shit you like can never exist again. And so, when I personally use the term “Left,” I mean this:

I mean those cultureless liberals/progressives who have socially engineers America into a bunch of cultureless zombies, who live to work and whose substitute culture is Consumerism. Our Modernist Society has no family values, no family structure, no ceremonies, no rites of passage, no traditional wardrobe, no traditional religion, no traditional music, no traditional dance. The soul of a people and organization or subculture or culture is its Arts. Those Leftist have worked very hard to get rid of culture and Tradition in order to uphold their ideology of Equality. Equality destroys Diversity, Cultures, Traditions; because everything is leveled, flattened, made equally meaningless.

Multi-Culturalism does not work. Because a Culture is a living creature, like an animal: and living creatures fight, compete, rival each other, for Natural Resources, Living Space, and Dominance of Territory. It’s the Law of Nature. And so in a multi-cultural society, one culture, one race will Naturally over power other people and their cultures. And so those people and other cultures that are not dominant do not own or possess control of their own Destiny. It is the same difference, analogously, as owning your own business [owning your Destiny] and working to make someone else rich [someone owns your destiny]. Who benefits in a zombie society which has no culture or tradition? The rich and powerful: because all you are is a fucking vote, a job worker, and dumb money. Divide & Conquer. Oldest trick in the book. Culture and its Traditions is the Force of ethnic Cohesion. Get rid of that culture: and you get rid of the cohesion/coherency of a race and ethnicity.

Folk Cultures

I’ve always loved Trees, since I was 2-years-old. As soon as I learned how to speak, I began to ask what each plant and tree was named, and I’d remember the shape of their leaves, the look of their flower, and their fruit. Each species of Tree has their own culture, meaning a shared/common Way of Life and Way of Doing Things. Fruit trees have a culture of developing symbiotic relationships with bees via their flower and nectar, and developing relationships with animals via their fruit. Pine develop relationships with squirrels and birds. Each kind of Tree has its own “plumage” it displays for the world.

According to Buddhism, the mortal realm we live in is one of Sensuous Delight, meaning that its purpose is to Delight your Senses [your 5 senses]. When we are Sukha [at peace, tranquil, undisturbed], we are able to appreciate such Delights of the Senses. When we have Dukkham [trouble, worry, anguish, stress, agitation] our conscious awareness is divorced from those Delights of the Senses and is enthralled in the dukkha itself; which is a temporary illusion, much like the shadow of a cloud. Which is why, despite the immaculate beauty of Nature, when some people have grown depressed, they become so lost in their despair that they commit suicide.

Nature is a Delight of the Senses. It is the Habit/Tao/Dharma/Ethos of Nature to Express itself to the Senses. Because it is that very Sensuality [the stimulation of our senses] that Nature continues itself for billions and billions of years.

Sensuality is the Primeval Language of Nature. And so because human Culture is an Expression of Nature, our Cultures follows the same Primeval Principle of Sensuality; which in our human-English language we end up calling “Art.” And thus, are our respective living human Cultures, like birds, possessed of its own species of plumage, song, and dance. A Culture which has lost its ancient, folk, ethnic music, dance, and plumage, is unnatural and dead. Like a parrot or cockatoo which has lost its ancient bird song and have adopted human speech.

Many of us Americans, specifically the White people and Black people have, since longtime, lost our cultural plumage, songs, and dance. This phenomenon is visible in the African-Americans, whose ethnic language, ethnic religion, and ethnic way of life have been beaten out of them for hundreds of years, since the slave trade. They once had a beautiful culture, being from West Africa.

I like bird watching. And so, because I see cultures as living creatures, I also like to culture watch. Just to observe how different cultures display their plumage; how each culture has their own way of delighting the senses. I can only speak of cultures I am familiar with. My own Thai-Khmer culture and that of my adopted culture of Palo [Afro-Cuban].

Some of the first slaves to be brought to the New World came from what was once the Kingdom of the Congo, which once occupied regions of northern Angola and the Congo states. Those Congo Africans – a Bantu people, properly called Bakongo – were taken to three main places: Brazil, Cuba, and America. Of those three places, the Bakongo in Brazil and Cuba have retained their ethnic culture. It was a fight and a struggle through hundreds of years of slavery and being treated like animals, that their culture has survived. In 2018 I was initiated and adopted into the Cubanized Bakongo religion/culture [in most ancient languages, including Thai and Khmer, the word for religion and culture is the same word]. The Cubanized Bakongo culture – “Cubanized” meaning the Bakongo slaves lived in Cuba for 600 years and being separated from other Bakongo people, developed a “dialect” of African-Kongo religion/culture – is properly called “Las Reglas de Kongo” which in English roughly means: The Rites and Traditions of the Kongo people. In the vernacular, that Cubanized Bakongo religion/culture is just called “Palo,” which is a very reductive word.

Most of Palo culture actually consists of songs [called Mambos]. They are traditional songs, sung in a slave dialect called Bozal. Bozal is a creole made of Cubanized-Congolese and Spanish. When you are initiated into that Palo culture, you first learn Bozal and then the songs. There is no point in becoming a part of a culture, if you’re not going to adopt it. An aspect of that Palo culture is the Yimbula. A Yimbula, in vernacular folk English, would be called a “hoedown.” For you White American people who have forgotten what Ethnic White American folk culture looks and sounds like, this is a Hoedown:

A Yimbula is a hoedown basically. I personally love the ethnic music of a Yimbula, because of the drums! Drums are a big part of the ethnic music of my own culture, and so, I was born and raised with ears and a heart tuned to drumming. This is a Yimbula [called a Tambor in Spanish]:

The dance of Palo culture [the songs being sung are Palo Mambos paying homage to various spirits]:

I like any Race of people who proudly preserve their own traditions and culture. Like living animals and organisms, a Culture metabolizes. Metabolism – basically – is when you eat shit, and the shit you eat not only feeds nutrient to your body, but also provides your body needed building blocks [water, organic molecules] to build new cells. And it’s from those new cells [the constant production of them] that you grow and are alive. And so, like any organism, a culture metabolizes [eats shit] in two ways: 1) by gradually adopting [adding on to what it already had] new ideas, concepts, practices, customs, and so on & 2) by absorbing into its cultural body: new people [non-reproductive accruement]. For example: English people did not always drink tea and have tea time; Europeans and after words Asians, did not always wear neckties to look professional;  In the past “American” meant White people, today you have Mexican-American, African-American, Asian-American, and so on.

In the same way, Palo Culture – which is to say Cubanized Kongo Culture – has grown over the past several hundred years by actually absorbing Latin Americans into its cultural body. And thus, you see Latin Americans speak Bozal, play Kongo music, and sing songs in Bozal. Like an animal species reproduces by casting its genes, a culture reproduces by cast its memes. Kongo Culture in Latin American communities:

Very much like the plumage and song and dance of a bird: the music, song, dance, wardrobe, and overall artistic expressions of a culture is how a culture as a living organism performs its “mating ritual” in order to replicate itself. A culture which has lost that plumage, song, dance, and overall artistic expressions is like a bird whose feathers have fallen, who has lost its song and dance: such a bird cannot find a mate. The “mating ritual” of a culture is what gradually attracts new people to its cultural body. Like any living creature, a culture has its own survival as its most core directive, and so, regardless of skin color or race, a folk culture will draw into itself anybody attracted to its music, dance, songs, and over all artistic aesthetics. It’s how – generally speaking – Satanism attracts to it new members to is subcultural body: by its dark, demonic, moribund, and gothic aesthetics and death metal music. The Dance of Nature:

The saying goes: Birds of a feather flock together. The aesthetics has a certain vibe, and those people who resonate with that vibe are drawn to that culture or subculture. This is how things happen in Nature. It becomes an unnaturality when a culture has lost its aesthetics, art, and plumage, and replaces such things with ideology, where a lifeless culture will display its ideology by literally saying shit like: “Our culture is communist, we believe proletarians should have voting power and control the government!” Or: “Here is a list of power points that represents what our culture is all about: 1) We believe in one God, 2) We believe in One Holy Catholic Church, 3) We believe that Godhead is triune, made of three but co-equal personalities, 4) We believe in the sanctity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 5) We believe that God manifested on the earth as Jesus Christ, 6) We believe that God died for our sins in the person of Jesus Christ upon the cross, & 6) We believe that Christ died and in three days resurrected. If you believe in these 6 ideological power points: then congratulations! You are one of us.” It’s not natural, it’s Prescription: you prescribe ideological beliefs for people to adopt/consume.

Nigerian slaves were also brought to Cuba. And like the Bakongo, those Nigerians managed to retain their traditional culture and language. The specific Nigerian Ethnicity that were brought to Cuba are Yoruba people. In the New World, their religion/culture became mixed with Catholicism, and became known as “Las Reglas de Ocha,” roughly meaning: The Rites and Traditions of the Orishas.” In the vernacular, Las Reglas de Ocha is called “Santeria.” I am not initiated into Ocha, but my Palo Godparents and most of my Palo god-siblings are Santeros. Ocha Culture:

When the Yoruba were shipped to Brazil, they also retained their ancient culture there, where their Orisha Religion [spelled as Orixa in Portuguese] became Candomble. Afro-Brazilian Candomble culture:

I personally like the drum beats of Palo and Candomble music because its fast! The Santeria/Yoruba drumming is slow [but beautiful], and is more similar to the traditional drumming of my own culture.

Other West Africans were brought to the New World called the Fon [primarily] who brought with them their ancestral religion/culture, which was mixed with Catholicism and became known as “Haitian Voodoo.” Haitian Voodoo, Santeria, and Palo are genetically related to each other like how second cousins are related to one another. Back in West Africa the Vodu of Benin/Togo/Ghana, the Yoruba Orisha Religion, and the ancient Nkisi Religion of the Kongo people are related to each other like first cousins, sharing a common ancestor. Haitian Voodoo culture:

Compared to its Vodu Cultural ancestor in West Africa:

More closer to my mother culture is my favorite Asian folk music, Balinese Gamelan. We would call it a Yimbula, as the dancers enter a trance and become possessed with spirits and divinities:

The spirits that possess their bodies are not “real” spirits. They are supra-natural entities with real supernatural powers, but they are not spirits as we generally understand that word to mean. They are archetypal patterns deep within their own collective folk psyche. How do we know this to be the case? Because at no time in the history of humanity has a Balinese person been ever possessed by a Voodoo spirit, or a Palo person ever been possessed with a Balinese spirit. And so on. In Tibetan lingo, these archetypal patterns of a people’s collective psyche are called Tulpas, we get our English term “Thoughtfrom” from Tulpa.

Of course, being born and raised in Thai-Khmer folk culture, the music and dance of the Thai and Khmer is most pleasing to my ears, eyes, and heart. Thai drumming and dance:

That one guy is playing my favorite string instrument called a Pheen [said as peen]. It’s similar in concept and function to a banjo [I love American folk music with the banjo in it]. A drum in Khmer is called a “Skor,” pronounced as an Englishman would say it. The Khmer Skor:

The Thai/Lao were originally a southern Chinese tribe. There are still indigenous tribes [non-Han] in the island of Taiwan who speak languages related to Thai/Lao. The Thai/Lao [a single people back then called the Tai] gradually colonized the Indochinese Peninsula during the time of Genghis Khan, as a means to escape the death and destruction he wrought. Eventually, in the 1500s, the Thais sacked the city of Angkor, which was back then the capital city of the weakened Khmer Empire. When the Thai’s sacked Angkor, they took with them the royal court and all of the Angkorean Artisans. Hence why Ram Thai [Thai dance] is similar to Ram Khmer. Traditional Ram Khmer:

You’re not watching Buddhist culture. It’s Brahminical culture. It pre-dates the introduction of Buddhism in Indochina. The founding race of people who established the Khmer civilization were Kamboja-Aryans originally from Northern India. They migrated down to the Indochinese peninsula via the Mekong River. There is nothing Buddhist about the traditional culture of the Khmer. The wardrobe is Brahminical, so is the headdress [a representation of the Three sacred Peaks of Holy Mount Meru], the garments are Brahminical, the music is Brahminical, the lyrics are Brahminical. Brahminical meaning “Of or Relating to The Brahman [Brahmins].”

The peculiar use of the hands in Ram Khmer is a traceable cultural meme. They are of course called “Mudras,” which is a word that has found its way into the English language. Each Mudra has a meaning or significance. The style of dancing with the hands and using the hands to make Mudras, of course originates in the Aryavarta [Northern India, homeland of the ancient Indo-Aryans]. Traditional Northern India dance and music [pay attention to the hands]:

All of the folk cultures spoken about in this essay share two things in common: 1) They are all Animist cultures & 2) Their dance/music have ritual/ceremonial purposes.


–Black Book of Satan 1, ONA

These people don’t just dance for entertainment or to showcase their culture to tourists. In most cases, the music puts them into a trance, and they become possessed with their folk divinities. With the case of the Thai/Lao and Khmer, our music and dance are traditionally Ritual Dances. For example, before you build a temple, there is certain music and dance that is performed on the ground upon which the temple will be built as a way to consecrate the ground. There are music and dances which are performed to pay homage to the gods, music and dances to ask for their blessings [such as the New Years dance, which asks the gods for a good and prosperous new year], there are music and dance performed to bless fields so that crops will grow good.

This concept of ritual or magical song and dance comes from the concept of what an Apsara is in Brahminical culture. An Apsara is a celestial nymph who inhabits the Holy Mountain of Meru. In Barhminical culture, they are similar [but not the same idea] as “angels,” intermediaries between the mortal realm and the Meruvian Paradise Mountain. The ancient Aryans had the belief that at the top and center of the world is a great mountain with 3 peaks called Meru. Each of the 3 primary Brahminical Gods dwells on one of Meru’s peaks. Vishnu dwells in the central peak. Brahma dwells on the right and Shiva on the left.

Closing Remarks

Very few people these days bird watch, or stop to smell flowers or notice their beauty. And so very few people stop to appreciate the natural beauty and diversity of human culture. Each culture, in their Diversity is Unique in quality and character. No culture is equal or the same as another. There is a natural beauty to inequality.

Like birds, living human cultures have plumage, color, dance, songs, which it displays to the world to be noticed and seen, beheld by mortal eyes for a moment. Because all things that exist, mortal or immaterial, fade away. And so, just for an aeonic moment, when a culture is alive and vibrant, it sings and dances. It produces Art, in all its forms: music, dance, myths, epics, sculptures, paintings, etc. Such things, originate from the collective folk psyche of a people. It is how the collective psyche communicates with its people/cells. The psyche does not speak language like we do. It has its own primeval language of Nature, which all forms of life speak: Sensuality. Color and sound. Aromas and touch. Taste. Shapes and movement.

Culture is numinous, like David Myatt and Reichsfolk National-Socialism said. It is an extension, an expression, a manifestation of Nature. It is the ethos of Nature to express itself and to be seen and noticed. A culture dies when it loses its color, its songs, its dance, its art. When a culture dies, a people lose its psychic [of the psyche] force that unites them into one common coherent/cohesive body. When you lose that coherency, the Race and its genes dissipate. Like how the ancient Egyptian Race have genetically dissipated. And when a race is extinct, all the race’s knowledge and capabilities goes with it: we today will never know how the ancient Egyptian Race built the pyramids, how they lifted and stacked such massive stones. Such a feat will never be replicated, because the race that had the intelligence, cleverness, ingenuity, and aptitude/capacity to build such a thing is gone. Your own respective races too have their own Nature-given unique qualities and abilities. Each race is different not only in look, but in mental capacity, level of intelligence, and capabilities. What human kind can and will create, achieve, and accomplish, by Natural Law, is dependent upon Race [the aptitude and capacity and intelligence of such].

For further in depth data on Race and human capacity, inequality, and so on, see the essay called Caste & Hegemony.

For a more in depth breakdown of the ancient Aryan peoples, their history, migratory patterns, genes, their Vedic-Sanskrit language, their diaspora in ancient times, where they ended up, data on Holy Mount Meru, etc, see This Essay in Nexion Zine. The essay talks about the following topics in no particular order:

‘The provenance of Christianity. The origins of Judaism. The origins of the God of Israel. The etymology of the Hebrew word “Zion.” The location of the Garden of Eden. The Cult of Dionysus. What Mount Zion has to do with Dionysus. Trance, shamanic spirit journeying, and spirit possession in ancient Judaism and early Christianity. The origins of the Ark of the Covenant. The origins of the Urim & Thummim. What is the House of David. What is the Star of David. Who was King Solomon. The location of King Solomon’s Temple. Brief stuff on the Templars and Freemasonry. Who was Jesus. Using the Drecc Deck [psychic cards] to see if Jesus was a real person. Mount Meru at the North Pole. The etymology of the Hebrew word “Satan.” The origins of the Biblical Satan and Hell. Vedic Aryan y-DNA analysis and distribution in the Levant and Near East. The connection between ancient Hebrew and Vedic Aryan Sanskrit. What Aristotle and Josephus Flavius had to say about Jews and India. How the ancient Egyptian Pyramids, the Vedic God Agni, Angkor Wat, the island of Java, the God of Israel, animal sacrificial burnt offerings, Phallic Worship, Shiva, and the Cult of Dionysus are connected. The Aryan people came from somewhere near the North Pole. How the Vedic scriptures back up the arctic origins of the Aryan people. Which parts of Europe have the highest concentration of Aryan DNA. Some stuff on the Hebrew language.’

/Chloe


A Sinister Sport

Posted: July 30th, 2021 | Author: | Filed under: Alchemy, Anarcho-Nihilism, Anarchy, David Myatt, Drecc, Dreccian, Generation Three, Heretical Texts, Iteration Three, Labyrinthos Mythologicus, Mundanes, National Socialism, Next Generation, Nihilism, O9A, O9A Nine Angles, Occultism, Order of Nine Angles, Order of the Nine Angles, paganism, Phase Three, Reichsfolk, Rounwytha, Satanic Heresy, Satanic Polemics, Sinister Japes, The Sinister Dialectic, The Sinister Game, The Sinister Tradition, The Sinisterly Numinous Tradition, Third Iteration | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on A Sinister Sport

.:.It’s still one of my favorite ONA sinister fictions. Over a decade ago, through one of my Old Guard liaisons, I had asked Anton Long to write for us Dreccs, something special that teaches the Essence of the Way of the Drecc. I was expecting AL’s familiar ideological writings, where he’d produce a few “Manuscripts” explaining the idea behind the Way of the Drecc and “teachings.” Instead, AL used his own youthful life’s experiences to create a fiction story, based on his exeatic youthful life. He named that story “A Sinister Sport,” and signed it off as Steven Brown, one of his old pseudonyms.

The story shows, via story model, the meaning of the ONA word “Exeatic,” as well as the practical side of the ONA phrase and term: “Presencing The Dark.” It is just the Essence. You take that Essence as a Drecc, a Niner, an ONA Initiate, and you put together your own Form.

There is an Essence, Essential… Fundamental elements/principles of Christianity. And then there are the Forms: Catholicism, Orthodoxism, Protestantism, Evangelism, and so on. And each of those Forms spawn new Forms.

There is the Essence of Dharma, which is the Fundamental body of principles. And then there are the Forms: Brahmanism, Hinduism, Jainism, Buddhism. And each of those Forms spawn new Forms: Theravada Buddhism, Mahayana Buddhism, Vajrayana Buddhism. And those Forms mix and merge with other forms: Taoism + Mahayana Buddhism = Chan Buddhism; Shintoism + Chan Buddhism = Zen Buddhism; Bon Po + Mahayana Buddhism = Tibetan Buddhism.

There is the Essence of Life, which are based on the Essential and Fundamental elements and principles of bio-organic life. And then there are the Forms: Fish, Amphibian, Reptile, Bird, Mammal. And those forms each spawn new Forms… Forms of Life, or Life Forms: sharks, frogs, snakes, crows, cats. The Forms carries and conveys the Essence you see? The Forms are like vehicles that carries the Essence. Hence: “Yana” as we call such in Buddhism. Yana meaning a “Wagon.” The Wagon carries the Essence. There are different styles and models of cars: some move faster than others, some have more horse power than others. Just like there are different styles and models of biological organisms. Each Lifeform is a vehicle which carries the Essence of Life into the Future.

Mother Nature allows Life to take on any Form it wishes. And during the Cambrian Explosion, Life did take on many bizarre Forms. She must allow that Freedom to take on any Form: because the most successful Forms continues Mother Nature. This is a principle of Nature, a Law of Nature, that the Essence be allowed to take on any Form it wishes. And that within the matrix and flow of Time, what Forms can adapt, evolve, Thrives. And it is in that Thriving, that ability to Thrive, that the Essence is carried into the Future to spawn new generations of Forms.

And so it also is with ONA. There is an Essence to the Sinister Tradition. And all of us in ONA may tweak, change, ONA as we wish. All of us may mix and merge ONA with whatever we wish. All of us may use the ONA, in whole or in part, to make our own Form of the Essence. There is no such thing as equality in Nature. And so, no two Forms of ONA are the same, have the same quality, orientation, goals, operations, etc. Most Forms we create will die away in time. Just like most life forms in the Earth’s past have died away. Only some – the few that can Thrive and Adapt – will spawn new Forms in the Future: in future generations.

By “Adaptation” what I mean in Reality [re: Realism] is that as each generation grows old and dies away, such old generation takes with them to their grave their world-views, world-orientations, political ideologies, opinions, emotions, hates, likes, interests, and so on. And each new generation comes into the world with their own set of interests, level of intelligence, mental capacity, world-views, world-models, opinions, etc. Therefore: if you or your organization cannot adapt to such change of generations: you or your organization will go extinct.

The old generation and their Old World is having a very hard time adapting to the change of generational environment. It is like Television did to radio. Like Automobiles did to Horse carts. In our new world, the internet is an integral aspect of our generation’s world and life. by the internet, via our smartphones, we can have access to the world body of information and data, socialize, buy shit, read books. Our generation doesn’t have to go to a library to borrow books. We don’t have to go to a bookstore to buy books. We don’t have to go to stores to buy shit. We don’t need to walk around to look for groups and friends to socialize with, because we can do so on the internet. We don’t need a church when we have access to spiritual stuff a google away.

And so, the old generation, and their old world stuff like libraries, churches, fraternal organizations [Masons, Elks, Odd Fellows], book stores, and so on are Forms that are dying, because they can’t adapt to the internet and our Digital Age.

Ten years ago, the old generation [X Generation] of mundane Satanists laughed at ONA for having a big presence on the internet. For using the internet to recruit and acquire new initiates. For using the internet, PDFs, blogs, to share ONA texts. They laughed at us and mocked us. Because those stupid hubriatic fucks are ignorant to the Natural Laws/Principles of TIME and EVOLUTION. They don’t know what evolution looks like when they stare at it in the face. And then, when ONA’s membership incrementally exploded: the same breed of hubris prone short-sighted mundanes cried and bitched. And the Leftists cry and bitch.

They are a stupid and ignorant breed of human being. They talk like they know shit. They say shit like: “nip it at the bud.” But they don’t know the Laws and Principles behind the phrases they say. Had they known: they would have nipped ONA at the bud decades ago. But they didn’t. Why not? Because they spent their time mocking and laughing and ignoring. It’s too late now. It’s hard to stop a moving train. There is Power in being over-looked, in being under-estimated. They leave you alone to brood and fester… and evolve.

Don’t be like those idiot mundanes. Learn to adapt to the Digital Age. Information must Flow. And if in the next decade, there comes new Forms of communication and information sharing: adapt and use those things to spawn your Forms. And do not stick with just one Form. Copy-cat Mother Nature: the Forms carry the Sinister Essence. Take what you need from ONA, and create as many Forms as you can. And be Fruitful and Multiply.

Anyways, here’s A Sinister Sport:

Leeds, 1973

It was nothing unusual, at least for Steve and his chosen three skinheads, to loiter in the sodium-lit night, on The Headrow or the streets around, waiting for some unwary mundane to pass them by to be followed to be relieved at knifepoint, or the threat of a kicking, of whatever money or possessions they carried or held. But it was for The Plumb, the young lad of slim physique and shaven head whose new swastika tattoo, on his forehead, still itched.

Plumb was a novice at this sporting game, and, knife ready, somewhat nervously waited for the test that would – that might – begin to make his name among Steve’s crew. It was not a long wait, that early evening of light drizzle where the slight warmth of late October had given way to the dreary coldness of November, and they – at Steve’s gesture – followed the middling aged suited briefcase holding man for only some yards when Plumb’s stiletto blade stuck him in the back. He groaned, slightly, before he fell, gasping – but they wasted no time on him, for only his money, his watch, any saleable goods mattered, and he was left there where the cold wet dirty pavement became a pillow for his face as they laughing scampered back to the safety of their den.

It was a single third floor room in a block of rented office rooms whose grimy small single un-openable window gave at least some view of the Infirmary across the street, and it was there, on the bare un-carpeted floor where thieved goods lay stockpiled almost to the ceiling, waiting, that they divvied up their share. Plumb got the cash, such as it was; and Steve and his crew the rest: a watch; a gold ring; the leather briefcase; perhaps a saleable newish wallet. But their value was incidental, purely incidental – at least that time.

Later, the darkness found them mischief-heading westerly, after a bevvy of beer had been downed at their favourite haunt where the relative wideness of Woodhouse Lane gave way to the narrower streets that northeasterly lay to sedately tumble down in terraced houses toward that tall-chimney of the quaintly-named “Leeds Corporation refuse destructor” on Meanwood Road, and where in a nearby house Steve spent the occasional night in the confines of a stuffy garret, with young shop-girl Lesley. He did not know then – and would not have cared even had he known – that centuries before, and only a gunshot away, Royalist forces had been bloodily defeated at the Battle of Meanwood Valley during his ancestors’ Civil War.

So, steadily but never furtively, they – buoyed by beer, youth, hate, and pride – made their way to serried terraces southwesterly between Woodhouse Moor and Burley Road. At Steve’s instigation, Plumb knocked on the door of a house, and it was not long before a skinny young man in black leather jacket, dirty T-shirt and jeans, opened it. Plumb punched him in the face, and he fell over backwards to where a discarded newspaper lay upon a lino floor near and steps led upward to dank, small, upper rooms.

“That’s for grassing, you cunt!” Plumb shouted as the skinny young man tried to get to his feet.

But Plumb pushed him down before kicking his head three times, and the young man was unconscious when Steve and his crew entered.

Steve threw a leaflet over the prostrate now bloodied body before they all left, laughing. On the leaflet – only a swastika, the letters CoC, and the words: “Violence purifies and makes the man.”

The stolen car took them recklessly fast out from the city of Leeds to near where the rocks of Almscliffe Crag rose beyond the Harrogate road and gave, in daylight, views toward the Vale of York. And it was there on the top of that rocky outcrop they assembled in that drizzle-filled darkness for Plumb to take his oath.

It was a simple oath – a personal pledge of loyalty to Steve, his comrades, his crew and their new Clockwork Orange Cult – and soon was over, so that they scampered, laughing, lustfully, satiated with feral life and memories of violence, down from their eerie to head back eastwards where Steve, as promised, had prepared for them a surprise.

The girls were waiting in that rented well-furnished well-cared-for Woodhouse terraced house above the fringe of Meanwood Ridge, and Mark, their pimp, greeted Steve – as the friend, and comrade, that he was – there where joss sticks perfumed the houseful-air and Slade’s Look Wot You Dun played loudly, beatingly, through speakers wired to some Hi-Fi system, recently liberated from some city-centre store.

There was some dancing then – or what passed for dancing – among the crew and the girls until they paired off to upstairs rooms leaving only Steve, Mark, and Ruth. Ruth the dark haired – older than the others, whose young son was in the so-called care of Social Services; Ruth the voluptuous, who sat, skimpily if fashionably dressed, waiting curled up on a sofa; waiting, for Steve her favoured lover to take her to her bed. But it was to be nearly an hour before her desire became fulfilled, and so she sat and watched him as he and Mark schemed, plotted, and dreamed.

At first, their talk was of Eastman, the non-family traitor who had betrayed a friend to the Police. Would that warning of the evening suffice?

“If not – ” Steve said harshly, and gestured death with his hand. They both knew that had Eastman been a part of their crew, or even if only the person he betrayed had been, then his fate of death would that night have been assured.

“Plumb? How’d he do tonight?” Mark asked.

“Good. He did well.”

“Useful?”

“Yep. I’m going to team him up with Phil at the Depot. He starts there Monday. He’ll be our runner. There’s a shipment due Friday.”

“Usual stuff?”

“Nope. Electrical goods, this time.”

“I’ll let Jamie know.” Jamie was their fence, a small rather portly middle-aged man of vast experience and canny if mournful countenance who had thrived in the rationing post-war years and who, though well-known to the Police, had never ever been to Court, for although his second-hand emporium in a back-street by the Wharf regularly received visits from The Plod, they never ever found anything suspicious, or stolen. Or, at least, that they could prove was stolen.

“Usual divvy?” Mark asked.

“Yep – but small bonus for Plumb.”

“Gesture?”

“Yep. He might even spend it here!” Steve laughed.

So they talked, laughed, planned, plotted, schemed, until at last Steve came to take her hand, leading her gently – almost lovingly – toward and into her room where they lay, naked, entwined for quite some time, gently touching, kissing, feeling the warmth, the soft human warmth, of each others’ bodies. It was for this – for such as this – that she almost loved him. Almost: had she not by the experience of her past stopped herself. And so they lay together, warmly warm, and silent, with only the distant sound of music below; the sounds of their lips touching; their breath breathing; and his fingers feeling her moist waiting wetness.

At first, he had seemed such a contradiction to her. But she no longer cared. It was his company and his body that she craved; even needed; and she would listen to him speak, for hours, in his almost accentless voice as he spoke of his plans, his visions, his passions, his theories, his interests and his hopes. Thus did she listen to him again later that night after their passions had flowed and flowed to ebb with the passing hours of their intimate, sexual, embrace.

“It’s the essence of the sinister, you see, ” he was saying to her as she lay naked, propped up on pillows in her bed, smoking one of her small cheroots while soft light from a bedside lamp bathed them and the glow of Dusk began to dully glow, as dark retreated beyond that window of their world.

“Experience. Going to, beyond, your limits. Transgressing laws, all limits. Learning. Exulting in life, and treating the mundanes as the idiots, the expendables, the resource, they are.”

Then, quite suddenly, his tone changed. “I’d like you to leave, here, this house,” he said. “And stay with me. We’ll get somewhere.”

“Don’t be daft!” she said in her broad Yorkshire accent, and slightly laughed.

“I mean it. I want you to get more involved. Assist me.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yep. Very.”

“But I don’t know anything about the Occult and Satanism.”

“You don’t have to. They’re just words. Words which obscure the essence. Useful – sometimes. But otherwise irrelevant. Like the current name my crew use – CoC. I’ll change it; maybe soon for something maybe permanent. It was only temporary, anyways, that outer name.”

She finished her cheroot, and lit another one, and he continued. “It’s essentially just a way of living. A way of life. It’s not really about rituals and all that crap that the mundanes think it’s about. It’s about us – individuals – excelling; enjoying. Taking risks. Changing ourselves. Evolving. Exulting. About creating a new way of life; freeing ourselves from the tyranny of laws; from the tyranny of the Police; of governments; of The State. Being ourselves.”

“And making money,” she laughed.

“Of course!”

“But -” she began to say.

“Mark agrees.”

“You what?”

“About you leaving here. He – and I – want you to take over running the girls.”

“So what’s he going to do, then?”

“He’s gonna open a new branch of our venture, in York.”

“I see.”

“Naturally, I’ll have some lads stay here to look out for the girls.”

“Naturally!” And she laughed again.

“What’d you say, then?”

Aroused, she said all that then needed to be said with her body, until satiated again, she lay beside him as, outside, the Sun rose into a strangely cloudless early Winter’s sky.

^^^

There was much that Steve wanted to do, and he had invited Plumb to join him for a drink in their favoured Pub in Woodhouse. Ruth was there, in the dimness of that traditional haunt, and Plumb could not help but ogle her breasts as he sat down beside Steve. But he knew better than to let his gaze linger or address her by name, and so he sat sipping his pint of beer.

“You’ve got someone interested, I hear?” Steve said to him.

“Yeah, mate of mine. Will.”

“Handy?”

“Shipley skins.”

“Enough said, then.”

“You wanna meet?”

“Yep, set it up. It’ll be a test.”

Plumb smiled. “Like mine?”

“Yep.” And both Steve and Ruth smiled. For she had come a long way in the two weeks since she and Steve had shared a house. That day of the test was a mournful if British one – for weather. For the wind was cold; the sky overcast and dull with cloud; and the slight persistent drizzle of that middle morning lent meaning to Julius Caesar’s long dead desire to live in far more sunnier healthier climes. Steve was there, with Plumb, and Will, the heavily- tattooed, waiting in the stolen car outside the shop. It was a kind of non-descript shop, selling jewellery, not quite in the city centre, and its décor and display seemed as if to say that its owner could not quite decide upon the intended clientèle. For there were some quite expensive items, among the rings and watches, and then some much cheaper tat while a middling assortment of second-hand items completed the rather mixed collection.

“Ready?” Steve asked Will, as the young skinhead of stocky build sat in the backseat of the car, clutching a sawn-off shotgun.

“Let’s go!” Steve said, and he and Will were swiftly out, masks on.

Steve pushed the one male customer aside, his right hand brandishing his revolver, while smashing displays with a hammer.

“Fill it!” Steve demanded of the customer, as Will thrust a small bag at him, and – obedient, like the trained mundane he was – he obeyed, stuffing it full of rings and watches. And then they were gone, outside, to where Plumb waited, ready and revving the car. Ruth’s old haunt claimed them, after the necessary change of outfits and cars, above the fringe of Meanwood Ridge, and Will and Plumb sat on a sofa in that well-incensed house while Steve inspected the haul.

“Good,” he said. Then, to Will: “You’ll get your cut in a couple of days, OK?”

“Yeah, sure,” Will said.

“You got a job?” Steve asked him.

“Nah, only thieving,” and he laughed, showing two teeth broken from fights.

“From now on, no freelancing, understand?” Steve said.

“Sure.”

“You do only the jobs we give you.”

“OK”

“Got some regular work, if you’re interested,” Steve said. “Right up your street.”

“Yeah?”

“Protecting our assets, here. Could be a rough, at times. Oh, yeah of course, you haven’t met them, have you,” Steve smiled. He called out, and, one by one, Ruth’s girls came in, all five of them.

^^^

Introductions over – as was his hour with the girl of his choice – Will was taken in a convoy of three crew cars amid the light of that day, such as that light was, to the rocks of Almscliffe Crag which rose beyond that Harrogate road and which gave, in better daylight, views toward the Vale of York. And it was there, on those topmost now rain-spattered rocks, that he gave his solemn pledge of loyalty to that crew.

“You’re family now,” Steve said. “Understand?”

“Sure.” And they all knew he meant it.

“We have some simple rules. First, we don’t betray our own,” Steve said to him. “Anyone who does is killed. No questions; no quarter; no delay. You’re in this for life, and if you ever show enmity towards us, your family, we’ll hunt you down and kill you.”

Steve paused for a moment before continuing. “Second, we all have equal shares of whatever we take or whatever our enterprises earn. No favouritism. Third, we care for our family. We respect them. We look after them; look out for them. We will risk our own lives for them, if required. All of them – women, children; they’re all our comrades. If you disrespect any member of our family, our kindred, you’ll suffer – you’ll be put on trial, before us, you’ll say your piece, and be judged and, if necessary, punished.

“Fourth, it’s the mundanes and us. Our folk, our kindred, our band of comrades, our family, against the mundanes. The mundanes and their property, all they have, are our resource. Fifth, the laws of the mundanes are irrelevant to us. The government, and especially the Police, are our enemy, servants of the mundanes – we expect no favour from them, no quarter, and we give them no favours, no quarter. Understand?”

“Sure,” Will said. And they all knew he meant it.

“Also, there’s only one leader, one chief. Currently, it’s me. You got a grievance, something to say, you come to me, say it to me to my face, in full earshot of others. We don’t ever talk about one of our brothers, one of sisters, behind their backs. If you’ve got a grievance against me, you face me with it, in full earshot of others.

“If you ever have a dispute with any member of our family, our crew, you bring it out into the open. If we can’t settle among ourselves, then you’ll settle it between the two of you, by a fair fight.

“If you don’t like my leadership, challenge me for it, openly. If necessary, we’ll settle the matter by a duel with deadly weapons. So, for leadership it’s a duel; for other disputes, a fair fight, in front of comrades.

“There’s no leaving your family. You’re part of us now for life; you’re our brother, for life. If you want to settle down with someone, or get married, she has to be either one of us, or become one of us. No exceptions. Same with our women-folk, our sisters – if they are serious about someone, wanting to settle down with them, maybe even get hitched, then he has to be either one of us, or become one of us. No exceptions. Same if you move away for some reason – you’re still family; still bound by your oath; our rules; and we may ask for your help, anytime; just as you can ask for our help, anytime.”

“And one last thing,” Steve said. “We have our own, small, tattoo. Our mark.” And he smiled, saying, “although I don’t know where you’re going to put it.”

Steve laughed, Will laughed; everyone laughed, for Will’s arms, hands and neck were already covered with tattoos.

^^^

S. Brown
ONA (Nexion One)
120 yf
Order of Nine Angles

A Sinister Sport
(PDF)

 

^^^

/Chloe


Spaewife

Posted: July 7th, 2021 | Author: | Filed under: Acausal Theory, Alchemy, Anarchy, David Myatt, Deofel Quartet, Drecc, Dreccian, Druidry, Labyrinthos Mythologicus, Nihilism, O9A, O9A Nine Angles, Occultism, Order of Nine Angles, Order of the Nine Angles, paganism, Psychic Readings, Rounwytha, The Sinister Dialectic, The Sinister Game, The Sinister Tradition, The Sinisterly Numinous Tradition | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Spaewife


–ONA’s Black Book of Satan 1

 

.:.I started writing about Witchcraft in Nexion Zine 5.1 HERE. And then the entire issue of 7.1 [1800 pages] is about Magick, Sorcery, Animism, Paganism, and Witchcraft. I write so much, I forget where everything is. I was curious a few days ago about how many pages I’ve actually written. So I added up every page of each issue of Nexion Zine, plus Sinister Musings [which is 90% of my defunct onanxs.wordpress.com blog], plus Opus Vrilis, minus 100 pages [re-used ONA MSS], and I found out – to my surprise – that I’ve written approximately 6000 pages since 2006-2007; non-stop. You really do become the people you admire and look up to. There have been two constant people I have looked up to and secretly strive to be like for the past 10-13 years. The first is David Myatt. The second is Prozak [also known as Brett of Amerika.org]. Both of them write non-stop, year after year. And both of them, via their writings, have inspired and influenced people.

How do you know if your writings are worth anything, are of any value or import? By the writings’ content? By the writings’ erudition? By how many facts the writings contain? No. The Buddha tells us that you judge a Thing by its Vipaka [Fruit]; by the Fruit that it generates. Or as Jesus said: “By their Fruits…” The act of writing is the Kamma [karma], which literally means Work/Labor/Build. And you judge the work, labor, by the Fruit such work bears. You see? I can’t say too much about this subject, but to drop a hint about the Fruit I’m talking about: David Myatt, over the past 40-50 years, via his writings, under various pen-names, has inspired and influenced many people to become radicalized, extremists, who eventually… “Presences the Dark,” shall we say. Writing is an artform, or as ONA’s 21 Satanic Points say: “10. Forge not works of art but swords of death, for therein lies great art.” But anyways.

 

 

I didn’t always believe in psychics and psychic readings and seeing the future. But I was fortunate to have a few friends who were very good professional card readers, and some of the old people in my family and extended family can read cards. I have an aunt whose Vietnamese husband’s [my uncle] father was into magick and psychic stuff. My uncle tells me that before his father died, he burned all of his books and scrolls on magick and psychic stuff and forbade his children from learning it. The uncle’s father knew the exact day he was going to die. The uncle’s father left a note under his pillow, which had the date and time of his death. In our culture [Brahminical Southeast Asian], you need a Kru [guru], in order to have the supernatural ability to be very accurate with seeing the future. A Kru is a spirit who teaches and tells you shit.

And so, I got curious about psychic card readings. So, I spent the past 13 years buying [gradually] about $1000 worth of different psychic cards. Most of them were various kinds of tarot cards. Some were tea leaf reading cards, Lenormand, and so on. I try to use each deck to read with, and I test each deck. If the deck of cards fails the tests, I discard them and give them away.

The way I test my cards is I’ll ask them a number of questions for a couple weeks. I usually ask these questions: (A) What did I do yesterday? (B) What will I be doing today before I go to bed? (C) What am I going to do in 2 hours? (D) What will I experience tomorrow?

Those are my questions. I give each deck of cards only 2 weeks to prove themselves to me, or I discard them and never use them again. They must answer each question without being vague, without me needing to interpret shit. Just give me a normal, relevant, straightforward answer to the god damn question.

All of my psychic cards have failed me. They produce gibberish as answers. All except one: the Drecc Deck. And so, after a decade of buying hundreds of decks, and testing every deck, I only use one deck of cards now. The Drecc Deck, for some reason, has the ability to answer my test questions. The Drecc Deck is a form of Logomancy, which basically means that your answer is written out for you to read. Logomancy is one of the oldest forms of divination in China and the ancient world.

I use my personal Drecc Deck on an everyday basis. I carry them with me wherever I go. And so, after using them every day for years, I’ve learned to work with them. All I need are 3 cards. The words on the 3 cards then give me words and impressions and feelings. The words triggers your faculty of Empathy, and you empath your answer. The Logomancy of the Drecc Deck has an accuracy rate of 80-90%, and 90% of the time, the worded answers that it gives you is actually relevant to the question you asked.

So, my entire family now comes to me when they have a question, so I can divine an answer for them. All I need is 3 cards. One of my aunts regularly calls me, every other day, to ask me questions. This aunt invests in and trades trades stocks. She recently called me up to ask me and my Drecc Deck questions on 3 stocks she wanted to trade. The Drecc Deck told her that the first two she named were duds and that she should avoid them. So my aunt says: “What about an airline stock? I found an airline stock I like.” So I threw down three cards. They were positive cards. One card said that there is an increase and gradual growth. Another card said the word “government.” I asked my aunt what this airline stock has to do with a government. And my aunt says to me: “Oh yeah, the airline is partly owned by the Thai government.”

My other aunt asked my cards if she will be moving to Oregon, because she came down for a visit and loved the place. This auntie likes nature too. I threw down three Drecc Deck cards, and saw the logomantic message. The cards said that this auntie desires to move, but she can’t because her heart is tied to her son [my cousin], and her son does not want to move to rural Oregon. My auntie was amazed and admited that deep in her heart, she can’t leave her son behind.

My grandmother recently ask me to give her a reading. She wanted to know if any of my aunts and uncles will also move away from her to live in Oregon. The Cards said that one of her three sons, a slender one, will eventually relocate to Oregon. She knew which of my uncles the Drecc Dreck was referring to. She then asked me: “Can you see when I will die?” I threw down three cards. The cards said that it will be a while, and that she has nothing to worry about because two women [two of my aunts] will take care of her all her life, until she passes on. She was happy with the answer.

Besides the Drecc Deck, I also use the nkobos [seashells] and chamalongos [coconut shells] as divination instruments. A spirit that lives in my Fetish speaks through the shells. Those are just as accurate as the Drecc Deck.

I love divination. I used to be skeptical, but after experiencing it first-hand and directly, I know that it works… you just need the right species and tools of divination.

To supplement the Drecc Deck, nkobos, and chamalongos, I taught myself Qi Men Dun Jia:

Right now I am starting to teach myself Jyotish [Vedic Astrology/Horary] and Traditional Western Horary Astrology.

I bought a $300 Jyotisha software to work with:

The software is called Parashara’s Light version 9.

I also bought a $300 Western Horary program, called Solar Fire version 9:

So, when I’m not traveling or writing, I’m studying Vedic Jyotish, and Traditional Western Horary Astrology. Each has thousands of pages to study, and hundreds of charts to study.

What got me into Qi Men Dun Jia [Chinese Horary], Jyotisha, and Western Horary was reading about how they have been used to solve crimes! I love mysteries and crime solving. I suck so bad at the moment. But I can cast a Traditional Western Horary chart for a question and derive a Yes/No answer.

The Big Mystery is why divination works. To begin to learn that Big Mystery, you first have to study this book:

 

The book is called “The Elizabethan World Picture.” The term “world picture,” believe it or not, was the olden English term for what we today call a “World-View” or “World-Model.” Literally a “Picture” of how the World is and works. The natural philosophers and theological philosophers at that time understood a whole lot, and had it right; although they had “primitive” symbolical language to express what they understood.

So there is more – much more – to being o9a than being politically oriented. The ONA is essentially a Pagan Tradition. The problem is, in pop-culture occultism and also in academia, nobody knows or understands what the nebulous word “pagan” means. You can’t be something you don’t understand. I try to explain what “pagan” and “paganism” means in Nexion Zine 5.1, 6.1, and 7.1. My explanations are expansions of David Myatt’s simple, yet very accurate explanation. To paraphrase what DM said: Paganism is the -ism of the Paganus.

Ever since I got into ONA, I’ve been studying and striving to be a Spaewife [spae wife]. To be able to use divination to foresee the most probably future. To learn to know and dis-cover the magical and medicinal properties of plants by directly communing with the plants. To learn how to read the Great Book of Nature and understand Her doctrines/dharmas/principles. To learn to understand what the supernatural is and how to use it.

In o9a, there are things we write which are meant for Public Consumption [for the sake of the Mythos of ONA and the sake of the Labyrinthos Mythologicus], such as the political stuff you see here. And there are things that should remain a private aural tradition among us, taught from Mouth to Ear, person to person [initiate to initiate]; such as the Pagan Tradition, the aural wisdom of a Spaeman and Spaewife.

/Chloe