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Devil in the House of Hohenzollern by Jack Heart & Orage


I spent my last day in Germany with Orage in Koblenz, an ancient city straddling both banks of the Rhine where it’s joined by the Moselle. As I gazed down at the deep surging water where the pier comes to a point at the confluence of the rivers, fish boiled on the surface. 

They looked like large shad, but they were being worked by seagulls, leading me to believe they were a predatory species, tearing up baitfish. The rivers not only bore the endless traffic of three hundred foot cargo vessels engaged in frantic trade, but they were alive as well, testimony to German resolve to live within their environment without despoiling it.
High above, a trolly offered rides over the Rhine to a fortified castle on the far bank. On the side of the river we were on, hundred foot ferry’s offered sightseeing excursions down river. In the fading light I posed for a few pictures with the castle as the backdrop. Orage snapped about half a dozen photos with my iPhone and looked up from the viewfinder puzzled, muttering that the pictures were not coming out right. When I looked at the pictures, on all of them, the castle seemed aglow in a peculiar orange light that gave it an artificial appearance as if it had been airbrushed into the picture.
We had extensively photographed the giant equestrian statue of Wilhelm I, dedicated to the unity of the German Empire in 1955, but built in the latter half of the nineteenth century. It was bombed by the Allies during WW II, and after much consternation and hand ringing among politicians, it was finally rebuilt in the nineties. The statue itself depicts Wilhelm perched victoriously upon his great war steed, led by the reins by a winged female entity.
The winged female entity, described by default as a “genius” by academics ignorant of both ancient Goth lore and the visitations of Ishtar to the Knights Templar in the Holy Roman Empire so long ago, is strange enough. But the carvings on the monument that support the statue must forever remain an enigma to the fish eyed academics ceaselessly propagating the historical fabrications of depraved Benedictine monks and the sycophants of an empire driven to madness through its own greed.
In the front part of the monument is a mural of a great bird, perhaps an eagle but more likely a Phoenix born of fire and risen from the ashes of its own destruction, swooping down upon the observer. Clutched in its talons are fire and six writhing vipers. To the left reclines what can only be described as the Devil and in his hand he holds a rock, the Grail itself, the Garil or Black Stone of Ishtar guarded over for eight hundred years by the Knights Templar and the SS…
At the top of each corner of the monument is the head of a king, his fangs and talons imbedded in the sun. There are eight fanged kings in accordance with the eight sided temples known to have been built by the Knights Templar, the last and the greatest being built by Fredrick II in Italy. This is homage paid to the eight pointed star of Ishtar, their Goddess who long ago promised to lead them from bondage in a war to end all wars with the god of the pope and all his agents.  
We had no time to contemplate what we had seen and photographed, it was off to Frankfurt where I was scheduled to take a 9:30 AM flight to Detroit, where I would wait six hours for a connection to Kennedy Airport in New York City, the place I lived all my life. With hours to kill, I went upstairs and drank overpriced beer in front of McDonalds at a table in a German café across from the American monstrosity.
Wasn’t long before I noticed a very strange looking little man dressed in dark clothing and a cheap snorkel jacket with the hood pulled over his head as if it were the middle of winter, which it wasn’t. It was about fifty degrees outside. He was carrying a shopping bag filled with only god knows what, standing at the perimeter of the café behind a large plastic tree staring at me intently. I stared back and laughed at him. He looked for all the world like the guy in the Arlo Guthrie song Coming Into Los Angeles: “No, he couldn’t look much stranger / Walking in the hall with his things and all…”
I tried to take his picture, but he moved behind the plastic tree, keeping himself strategically out of my view finder. When I pointed him out to the waitress, it was only me and her and she had already noticed him, we both laughed at him. It didn’t bother him, he kept staring and I thought about getting up and asking him what his problem was but then thought better of it. I wasn’t about to have my departure delayed by having to slap around a crazy person at the airport. After about a half hour, he went downstairs never to be seen again.
Finally succumbing to the beer, I went downstairs myself about a half hour later and resolved to get some much needed sleep in the chairs in front of my Delta / Air France check-in gate, which would be open in a few hours. I awoke to some women setting up for Delta and when I asked a woman told me they would be open within the hour. I went upstairs and had a particularly vile, even for McDonalds, “egg sandwich…”
When I came back down, I got my boarding pass and the same woman who had told me they would be open within the hour was standing in front of the check in gate. She told me that I had been selected for additional security screening and that she was “head of security.” My flight would be delayed till 11 AM and that I should arrive at boarding for nine to compensate for the additional time it would take. She asked me how long I had been in Germany, keep in mind I hadn’t even been through customs yet…
I told her a month and she asked me what I had been doing in that time. When I told her that I was a well-known writer who wrote under the name of Jack Heart, doing research she became particularly interested and asked me what I wrote about. I told her culture and she asked me to clarify the spelling of my pen name, that she would Google it.
I got to boarding a little before nine and passed through customs without a hitch and figured there had been a mistake. There were only two planes boarding at the five E gates beyond customs and one was delayed for almost two hours, but there were about half a dozen German police officers standing around trying to look hard. One, an attractive blond brandishing a Heckler Koch MP 5 caught my attention. I walked up to her looking, thinking to myself I love a woman who knows how to hold a machine gun and another cop across the room saw me and smirked.
After standing on line for an hour I get to the guy who’s supposed to get the final swipe of the boarding pass and he tells me I’ve been selected for special security screening. He tells me to follow him and he leaves his post taking me to a windowless security room with about five people in it. They are all joking in accented English about the guy I was getting being the biggest ball buster. The man, very German, in his mid-thirties and definitely in charge, seated at his desk, replied “I am the best.”  He told me to sit down and I asked him what he needed. He quipped money. He then halfheartedly felt around my ankles and told me I was done, to get back on line…
When I went through customs in Detroit all I was asked when I showed him my passport was “any relation to the hockey player?” I’d been being asked that ever since I was about ten years old and Phil Esposito; the legendary Detroit Wing forward had his first sixty goal season. When I got to Kennedy after walking over a mile to baggage claims, I found my luggage was not on its designated conveyer. Still having to catch the trains to Long Island, and past midnight, exasperated I went to the claims office and showed them my ticket. They told me “we have your luggage” and told me to go to the far corner of the cavernous baggage claims room. When I did I found my suitcase sitting there waiting for me…
Originally appeared on Please be advised we will not be able to reply to your comments on other sites. 
Illustrations & quotes for educational purposes. © Jack Heart 2019

Below are two links where you can purchase Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan. I would suggest you buy it in hardcopy, not because I make more, I actually make the most from Amazon E books, but because you will avoid giving Amazon any money. Frankly you should be shooting Amazon employees in the street, Google too.

Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan by Jack Heart, Hardcover | Barnes & Noble® ( Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan: Memoir of an awakening god: 9781736288016: Heart, Jack: Books

Stephansdom: The Black Lodge


Stephansdom: The Black Lodge
By Jack Heart & Orage
One of the great wonders of gothic architecture, there is an almost palpable evil inside Stephansdom, a heaviness of the air. Shadows of forlorn sorrow and unspeakable despair seem to lurk in corners to dark to be clearly seen. A malevolent presence stalks the aisles at the periphery of the senses, something dark and as old as time itself feeds like a vampire on the immortal souls of its unsuspecting supplicants.  
“In the early hours of 10 April 1945” legendary SS Commander Sepp Dietrich, the Commanding Officer of the retreating German forces in Vienna at the time, gave the order to Captain Gerhard Klinkicht, commander of his field artillery, to “fire a hundred shells, more if necessary and leave it in debris and ashes.” Klinkicht has been immortalized today for disobeying those orders leaving Stephansdom preserved for posterity. Lost in the adulation is the fact the he contributed over a hundred and fifty thousand euros to its restoration during his lifetime. The last seventy thousand was a check given to Christoph Cardinal Schönborn just months before Klinkicht’s death in 2000. (1)
Josef “Sepp” Dietrich was one of the most if not the most powerful man in the SS. As Hitler’s personal bodyguard and chauffer, he literally fought his way to the top, first in the streets at Hitler’s side and later the battlefields of Europe as the Commander of Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler (LSSAH); a tank unit and the most feared military division of WW II. In Lucifer’s Court Otto Rahn states that Dietrich is the key and Dietrich in German literally means key. In fact, the Unit Insignia for the LSSAH was a key… 
It was Dietrich who was responsible for financing Otto Rahn and Karl Wolf in southern France during their 1931 quest for the Holy Grail amongst the “grottoes of the Sabarthes.”(2) “Wolff who had won the Iron Cross in WW I when he was just eighteen years old would go on to become General Karl Wolff, Supreme Commander of all SS forces in Italy or just plain Wolffie to Himmler.” (3)
It can be argued from both accepted historical fact and evidence produced in Titthakara and Otto Rahn, Hidden Master or Madman that these three men; Otto Rahn, Sepp Dietrich and Karl Wolff formed a hidden triad of power in the SS above Himmler and answerable, perhaps, only to Hitler himself. 

After the war Dietrich would shoulder the blame for the Malmedy massacre, a war crime to which he had little to nothing to do with, in order to shield his subordinates. He was sentenced to life, which would be shortened to twenty-five years due to testimony in his defense by other German officers. He would end up doing ten. 
Dietrich was a man of unimpeachable integrity and bravery and Klinkicht’s tale that he ordered the destruction of one of the world’s greatest architectural wonders, built by the German people, out of spite because Vienna had surrendered to easily to the Russians just doesn’t wash. In fact, it reeks of the Empires cartoonish historic fabrications that have been used to conceal and obfuscate the facts about WW II, why it was fought and who was fighting it. Perhaps the gullible Dietrich, yet another dumb German brute, had been duped, tipped off by yet another incredibly clever British OSS agent posing as an anti-Semitic monk;  Ann Frank was hiding in the attic of Stephansdom…  

Upon entrance into Stephansdom through the doorway under the two smaller steeples if one takes the left hand path toward the alter in the front and keeps the larger steeple outside to the rear right; they are greeted by a leering skull and cross bones. The skull, some of its teeth missing, wears the headdress of the pope. Balanced atop this headdress is an inverted darker version of the headdress. The ghoulish pope and his dual hats for good and evil are just the focal point for a large decorative tablet adorning the wall and inscribed with some Latin mumbo jumbo… 
The center Isle is gated, and one must pay the monks to continue to the main alter beneath the stained glass windows high above. But if one continues down the aisle to the left it ends in an enclave about halfway to the alter and you find yourself face to face with a very strange painting. The masterpiece is illuminated by overhead lights and is flanked on each side by a statue of a king standing beside twin pillars who appears to be presenting it to the audience. From the wall next to it a startlingly real carving of a medieval monk seems to be emerging from a window in the wall and is studying the painting intently.
The picture depicts two ancient scribes perched upon a cloud who appear to have discovered something in a manuscript. An angel descends upon them delivering a feathered quill to each of them. Below them in a citadel surrounded by mountains a dark and shadowy figure gazes out from an open terrace. 
Flanking the window directly in front of the painting a statue of Jesus sits in the posture of an enthroned king, crown of thorns upon his head. A demonic dwarf sits upon each of his shoulders whispering in his ear. On the other side of the window, closest to the painting, Jesus still wearing his crown of thorns but now standing and stripped naked is riddled with arrows. Atop the twin pillars flanking the painting on the right is a courtesan and atop the pillars flanking it on the left is a swooning naked woman. She is girded about the loins by a serpent and an arrow pierces her heart. 
At the top of the abomination sits a high priest garbed in black. Whatever it was the scribes found in that manuscript the directive is now clear. Jesus and Mary must both be killed, and it falls on the church and the kings of the earth to do it…
Throughout our writings we have continually referred to David Lynches Twin Peaks. That is because its symbolism constitutes the most all-inclusive work on the occult, the esoteric doctrines behind populist religions like Christianity, and the deepest darkest secrets of Synarchy that has ever been presented to Samael the blind gods world.
In Twin Peaks there are two lodges that control the world; the Black, dedicated to evil, and the White, dedicated to good. They meet in a place called the Red Room, a place out of time and at the crossroads of the portals, hosted by a malevolent dwarf and a benevolent one armed man. The Red Room is most noted for its floor, tiled by an off-white and dark-brown chevron pattern. The floor of Stephansdom is the very same off-white and dark-brown colors but in a checkerboard pattern. The famous roof of Stephansdom is a chevron pattern in light and dark colors…

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1 – Diem, Peter. “Der Stephansdom und seine politische Symbolik” [St. Stephen’s Cathedral and its political symbolism] (in German). Austria Forum. Retrieved 12 September 2014.
2 – Rahn, Otto. “ORNOLAC IN THE LAND OF FOIX.” The Court Of Lucifer A Voyage With Europe’s Benevolent Ghosts By Otto Rahn.pp 36-37. 
3 – Heart, J. (2019). Titthakara: Nazi Germany’s Secret Installations Beneath Polar Ice Caps – Veterans Today | Military Foreign Affairs Policy Journal for Clandestine Services. [online] Available at:
Originally appeared on Please be advised we will not be able to reply to your comments on other sites. 
Illustrations & quotes for educational purposes. © Jack Heart 2019 

Leaving Vienna


Leaving Vienna
This piece was written about a month ago when I was still in Europe, still not even thinking about coming back to America. It was posted on our Patreon page for our patrons. Tomorrow at sunrise I leave the sanctuary of Carmel Indiana, an oasis of esthetic opulence in a dying America, staggering under the weight of its own filth. I’ll be going back to New York for while. 
The plan for Orage and me, together with our entourage, is to do Montségur at the end of April. I saw many strange things at Stephansdom which I shall write about in New York, things that just should not be in a Christian church. This, now called the Vienna Pestilence  because of the unspeakable human suffering depicted in its flawless stonework, was one of the strangest…   – Jack Heart

Leaving Vienna
I’m sitting in a place called Daily Roast at Vienna Airport with a couple of hours to kill, so I may as well write something. I won’t be able to post it because I’m unable to connect to their Wi-Fi but soon I will be back in Germany where everyone’s computer skills are far better than mine. This place has a smoking lounge, which brings me to my first point. In America, where obesity is a fashion statement and infirmity a virtue, you are not allowed to smoke anywhere. God forbid one of the standard issue genetic defects should inhale some secondhand smoke and mar the taste of their cheese doodles. The Germans, who practically all smoke, have designated smoking areas everywhere and as I look around, I see not one disgusting fat body among the twenty or so people in my field of vision. In America this would be the equivalent of seeing Big Foot, or Donald Trump in a gym…

The dogs in Germany and Austria apparently have the same status as their human companions. They are trailed on leashes into restaurants and stores, fountains serve humans at the top and dogs at the bottom. Judging by the loving glances lavished on their furry partners, heaven help the cop who would even think of arbitrarily shooting one. Speaking of cops, here they are like children should be in America, they are seen but never heard and they content themselves with enforcing the law while keeping the lowest profile possible. They are courteous and efficient; if you get lost just ask a cop, one even made sure I got on the right train. No one, particularly themselves, see them as superheroes.  
In Vienna one is hard pressed to even find a cigarette machine, let alone an automated cashier. Everyone has a job and a stylish uniform to do it in. As it is in Germany manufacturing is alive and well and hasn’t been outsourced to some Asian sweatshop where eight year old children are forced to work or starve. The communists held a rally last week in front of the Vienna Opera House and were treated by the indigenous populace in the same manner the Ku Klux Clan would be treated in Jamaica Queens. Only the police stood between them and an unimaginably brutal beating…
The streets of Vienna are alive at night with young people going here and going there, brandishing bottles of beer and wine, like it’s actually okay for young people to enjoy being young. Lovers hold hands and women can walk alone because crime is virtually nonexistent. In the morning the smell of coffee from cafes and fresh baked produce from bakery’s waft through cobblestone corridors and whisk away the dreams of the night. People go to work, many on streetcars and all minus the resentment that permeates “rush hour” in America. I am left alone to lament, a creature born in the neon of New York City, raised on black leather and cocaine, gratuitous violence and meaningless sex…
I had come to Vienna in search of something, certainly not my lost innocence. What I had seen in the cathedral in Cologne made seeing the one in Vienna mandatory. The monks had told me the treasury would be closed till next year, but the ornate statuary told the story of Christianity in the Holy Roman Empire clearly enough. Jesus is a symbol for the Sun God, the Crowned and Conquering child. His existence as Understood by the Original church is very clearly theoretical. His story is a metaphor for what David Bohm would call the Implicate Order and Mercia Eliade the Sacred. To Bohm this world was naught but a distorted reflection, adulterated images of their source, what Eliade called the Profane…
In this world, symbolized by the cross for the four directions of a two dimensional world, it is Mary who time after time, artistic masterpiece after masterpiece, sits upon the Throne of Heaven. It is her will that will be done. Only when the Sun God takes up that cross can the Profane be transmuted into the Sacred and the Implicate Order fully revealed. This is only a promise, not an historical event as should be obvious to any being sentient enough to see the pain and suffering that is the prevailing theme of existence and much of the artwork contained in the two great cathedrals.  
I pondered this as I left Peters Platz, which ornamentally more than matches the grandeur of anything they have in Rome. I stepped down into the swirling wet fog and became disorientated making a few wrong turns and momentarily losing the main cathedral. A statue as big as a building loomed in front of me and now quite pleased with my own mistake, I stopped to examine it. There it was, a summary of all I had seen. At the focal point, which was the only part of the Baluster encircling it open to the public, presumably so they could kneel and pray, stood Mary, eyes focused on heaven above. She held the cross in her hand and at her feet was a hideous demonic hag writhing in agony. Upon the hag stood an angry cherub wielding a fiery staff, which he was using to chastise the hag.

I stood for a long time looking at it and taking pictures. We’ve been calling the pope and all his sycophants’ liars for years, with only occult doctrines and esoteric traditions for proof. There before me carved in stone stood unimpeachable evidence, immutable testimony against the lies the church has told. God is a woman and the church has always known this. Not only is the pope fallible but he, as a liar, has no credibility at all. I walked the mile back to my hotel room, tears of ecstasy streaming from my eyes…

Originally appeared on Please be advised we will not be able to reply to your comments on other sites. 
Illustrations & quotes for educational purposes. © Jack Heart 2019


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Buy it NOW!

Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan: Memoir of an awakening god Paperback – January 5, 2021



By Jack Heart & Orage

Those who read us are aware that reality no longer exists, timelines shift and meld together at a faster and faster tempo. Call it the Mandela Effect if you need to trivialize it and get on with your left right paradigm, there’s no room for you here. We are going to play this tune to a crescendo that would make even Beethoven blush. Like the sand in an hourglass Time itself runs out, believe whatever you will. It will make no difference in the end, and for most the end is nigh. 

Before she sealed her own fate, my utukku in residence told me many things and she was never wrong, never wrong except once, the big one; that I would die by a car bomb as very old man. Wishful thinking, that’s not going to happen, I don’t have that kind of time left, neither does she and neither do you.  

Forget those ancient ruins. They will forever remain an enigma, bleached out bones that will tell no tales. Our story, whether you are Black, White, Red or Yellow, the present epoch, the story we are in, begins in Europe and in Europe it will end…  – Jack Heart

The story of the Black Sun begins in 1220, when a group of Knights Templar under Komtur Hubertus Koch witnessed an apparition of the Goddess just outside the city of Nineveh. The ancient city, located on the outskirts of Mosul in modern-day northern Iraq, is now known to be dedicated to her since Akkadian times. During the tumultuous upheaval in Western Europe known as the Albigensian Crusade, a euphemism for the genocidal elimination of the Roman Catholic pope’s Cathar competition in southern France and northern Italy, the Goddess would appear to this same group of Knights repeatedly. It is said the latter visitations took place at the Untersberg Mountain in the northernmost part of the Berchtesgaden Alps, which straddle the border between Germany and Austria.
She instructed them in certain Magickal practices that would restore Man to his rightful place as the godlike traveler along the ridges of worlds and told them the material world is but a trap for their souls and their rightful place was in the Green World. This is the Age of Darkness, ruled over by a dark and malevolent god, the god to which the pope professed to represent and this sun is a perverted inversion of the true sun; the Black Sun, which would be revealed in the coming Aquarian Age. She gave them a stone; a Black Stone, which would be pivotal when the time came to bringing about the transmutation of this world. Some say the stone is Garil as in Holy Garil, one of two versions of the Holy Grail…
This original contingent of knights, all of them from the Holy Roman Empire under theHouse of Hohenstaufen, would be entrusted with the task of guarding the stone for the final battle between darkness and light. The order was shrouded in shadows even to other Knights Templar. It was to come to be known as Die Herren vom Schwarzen Stein or The Lords of the Black Stone. The SS of WW II, so dreaded by the international banking cartel and their idiot minions from every corner of this dark world, is an abbreviated acronym for the very same order…

The Altar of the Black Sun at the SS stronghold in the Wewelsburg Castle
As Causa Nostra lore would have it, the Ordo Bucintoro, a secret society that arose to prominence in Venice in the early fifteenth century by way of its founder Antonia Contenta and her blood ties to Geoffroy de Saint-Omer one of the nine founding members of the Knights Templar, is the heir to those secrets. The Order was dedicated to the fruition of a “Roman-German Empire” that would sweep away the unbalanced patriarchy and insane avarice of the church and replace it with a utopian world based on spiritualism and equality between the sexes. They claimed to have the power of “walking through the times” to achieve their goal in the “twenty-first century.” Toward that end, Emperor Rudolph II was instructed to stymie the Inquisition and the SS organized among the Germans and Italians to move the Orders artifacts from Germany to keep them from being discovered by the Allies “between mid-1946 and in 1947…” (1)
As esoteric tradition within occult secret societies would have it, the doctrines taught to the Templar’s by the Goddess were sexual in nature and in practice. It was after his publication of a chapter in the Book of Lies that dealt explicitly with sexual rites that Aleister Crowley was approached by “the O.H.O. (Outer Head of the O.T.O.).” Crowley goes on to say “(At that time I did not realise that there was anything in the O.T.O. beyond a convenient compendium of the more important truths of Free Masonry.) He said that since I was acquainted with the supreme secret of the Order, I must be allowed the IX° and obligated in regard to it.” (2)
What Crowley didn’t know at the time was the OTO had ruled the Holy Roman Empire through Synarchy since the time of Rudolph II and the Thirty Years War that followed. And that ninth degree bestowed upon him made him the titular head of it…
Hypnerotomachia Poliphili or Poliphilo’s Strife of Love in a Dream was first published in 1499 in Venice by Aldus Manutius, lifelong close friend of Giovanni Pico della Mirandola; famed Renaissance apostle of Hermeticism and Qabalism. The text has been attributed to an obscure renegade monk named Francesco Colonna, but no one knows who really wrote it and scholars have expended whole tanker loads of ink endlessly postulating as to its authors identity.
Although now considered one of the most exquisite examples of early printing the text is almost unintelligible, being a mixture of Latin, Italian, Greek, Arabic and Hebrew with a smattering of Egyptian Hieroglyphics thrown in for good measure. Its one hundred and seventy two woodcuttings tell the real story, and deeply influenced C G Jung’s interpretation of Rosarium Philosophorum. Their origin is even more dubious than the name of its author but a few scholars have hazarded a guess that it was renowned Paduan miniaturist Benedetto Bordon.
Within twenty years of its first publication, Poliphilo’s Strife of Love in a Dream, outside of the bible itself, would become the preeminent book in Europe. It would turn out to be the “most celebrated book design of the Renaissance, but one of the most important and yet utterly bizarre and inscrutable books ever published…” (3)
In his sleep, the protagonist of the book Poliphio quests for the love of the recalcitrant Polia through a fantastic dreamscape reminiscent of ancient Germanic tales of the Mountain of Venus; made famous by Wagner in Tannhauser. Naked nymphs and satyrs abound, ruled over by Venus and Cupid. In what is said to be “perhaps the most censored woodcut of the Renaissance”(4) a bull is sacrificed to Priapus, the god of fertility who presides over the festival displaying his trademark oversized permanent erection. There are no less than five triumphal processions celebrating the love between Poliphio and Polia.
They are taken to the island of Cythera, the Mediterranean island sacred to Aphrodite or Venus, in a barge piloted by Cupid. Bucintoro, from the Ordo Bucintoro, is the Venetian pronunciation of bucentauror or barge. From the eleventh century till 1798 when Napoleon ordered it destroyed, the ruler of Venice or Doge was taken out to sea in a lavishly ornamented barge on Ascension Day. There a ceremony was performed that married Venice, a city dedicated to the Goddess since the days of the Veneti, to the sea and its great God Poseidon, for whom the Christian devil’s trident is modeled after…
Even after all this, Polia still spurns Poliphilo’s love and he faints dead away in front of the altar as she reads to him from some awful book. She is shown a vision of two naked maidens who have defied Cupid and are now forced to draw his chariot through the forest as he whips them. He slays them both in a clearing and hacks them in pieces which he feeds to a lion, a dragon, a griffin and a wolf.
She must reconsider and revives Poliphilo with a kiss and they are forced through a door by Venus and her nymphs who threaten them with clubs. On the other side they kneel before Venus now wearing a crown in her court filled with nymphs and she sanctions their union as they share a kiss. They both awake alone in their rooms accompanied only by their dogs. But in the end they are reunited in the celestial realm where they are already married before the Queen of Heaven…
“Over the years the book has been the subject of thousands of analyses, commentaries, interpretations and appreciations, as well as hundreds of reprints, facsimiles and critical editions. It remains one of the most influential, yet enigmatic books ever written.” (5)
Fifty years after the Poliphilo’s Strife of Love in a Dream was first published, The Rosary of the Philosophers or Rosarium philosophorum sive pretiosissimum donum Dei would be published in Frankfurt. Not surprisingly, C G Jung is the only academic who has ever made the connection. Poliphilo’s Strife of Love in a Dream is so obviously Pagan that not even the Vatican could ever spin it any other way, but countless hours of mental masturbation have been wasted, some even by Jung himself, trying to Christianize Rosarium philosophorum. More still has been wasted in trying to interpret it as a strictly alchemical work, only morons and fools believe they can transmute gold…
Alchemy itself is symbolic of the soul. There is only one correct interpretation of Rosarium philosophorum and that is ours in Aleister Crowley, Loki’s Brood & the Fury of HellParts1 and 2. Ours is correct because I have lived it and continue to do so, that goes even more so Poliphilo’s Strife of Love in a Dream…
The order of the Knights Templar to which the Ordo Bucintoro traced their pedigree was last known to be active on a narrow alleyway known as Blutgasse or Blood Alley in the shadow of Stephansdom in Vienna. I had been in Vienna to take pictures of Stephansdom, the great gothic cathedral which Vienna is built around and I had already taken many very strange ones indeed, things that just did not belong to the Christian religion. I sat pondering this over a cup of cappuccino at a table by a curbside café in front of Resselpark on my way to take pictures of Blutgasse and I happened to glance up at the building to my right. A giant stone owl flanked by nine smaller ones stared back down at me…  
In Vienna everything is closed on Sunday but the tourist traps. I had to go to Wien Hauptbahnhof, Vienna’s main train station, just to buy cigarettes. I was alone “in a country where they turn back time.”  I felt just like the character in Al Stewarts classic Year of the Cat as I walked down Kärntner Strasse “strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorie contemplating a crime…” I made a right down Weihburggasse and turned left at Liliengasse. It struck me that the owl is sacred to Lilith. I turned onto Singerstrasse and quickly came to Blutgasse.
I went through the archway down the ancient cobblestone street past its only business; a café called the Chameleon where two elderly women flirted with the elderly owner. It was closed. Next to it was the “Peace Museum.” Across from it was a window adorned with a modern art piece that looked like splattered blood. At the other end of Blutgasse was the Mozart Museum which was the only thing open in the vicinity…
Certain internet crackpots, who no doubt learned about the Ordo Bucintoro from our original piece Black Sun Rising Part 6, have tried to make the case that “Mozart was another priest of Isis who communicated Isis mysteries through his music and was initiated into the mysteries through a certain Templar society with strong connections with Ordo Bucintoro in Untersberg near Salzburg.” (6) I strolled down to the museum, uninterested I made a right and was shocked to see a bookstore named 777. It was of course closed, but I resolved to come back the next day.
When I went back the next day a gentleman of about seventy sat outside underneath the 777 sign reading a book, legs crossed in European fashion. I began our conversation by asking him if the store was named after Aleister Crowley’s famed Qabalistic work 777. In halting English, he told me it most certainly was. In fact it was somewhat of a museum dedicated to Crowley and originally founded by his German translator. I said that was prestigious considering it was right next to the Mozart museum. He looked over at the museum and scoffed…
I asked him if he had any books by Søren Kierkegaard, intending to purchase one for Orage’s mother, who was celebrating her eighty-eighth birthday and still able to recite Longfellow verbatim even though she speaks little English, he seemed amused. He told me they didn’t carry anything like that. I wanted to buy something from him so I resolved to get Orage a copy of 777 in German. Not knowing how much English he really understood, I explained to him the Kierkegaard book was a gift idea for someone else and just like Crowley, Nietzsche was the only philosopher I really approved of.  I’d never even read a word of Kierkegaard but I’d read everything I could by Crowley. He smiled and looked at me saying “you’re better off…”
He confirmed what Orage had already told me about Blutgasse being the last known base of Templar operation in Europe. I asked him why it was called Blood Ally and he told me there are four different stories but no one really knows why. Not thinking, I asked him to sign the book and he said he couldn’t he was not Crowley. He instead gave me a little placard saying I had purchased it there. Crowley’s books must be treated with the same reverence as the Bible or Quran, in fact far more so. We said our goodbyes and he posed outside for a few pictures. When I told him I was going to write about the place he just smiled…
I made my way back down Blutgasse with the strange sensation hanging over me that that man had been waiting for me all along. He knew I was coming. The Chameleon was now open. I ordered myself a tall one and had one of those cigarettes I’d walked over a mile out of my way to get the day before. Two Nordic men were sitting at the table next to me speaking to each other in heavily accented English. Vienna is a city filled with people from the furthest corners of Asia to the far reaches of Norway and Italy. Everyone spoke to each other using whatever English they knew; it was the one cultural constant. They were looking at a map trying to find where the treasury for Stephansdom was.
I interrupted them saying jokingly “I couldn’t help but notice you guys are speaking English. If you’re looking for the treasury it’s closed until next year. At least that’s what the monks told me.” Orage and I had already examined and heavily photographed the one in Köln, where the other great gothic catheral in Europe is located. It was the first thing I had wanted to see in Vienna myself so I had asked the monks. The younger man looked devastated…
I went inside and took some pictures of the interior noticing the artwork for sale. On my way out I saw what I had not seen on the way in. The first painting offered for sale as one walked through the door was a black and white cat their backs to each other siting under a tree, the white one in darkness and the black one in light, in The Year of the Cat
Originally appeared on Please be advised we will not be able to reply to your comments on other sites. 
Illustrations & quotes for educational purposes. © Jack Heart 2019

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Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan: Memoir of an awakening god Paperback – January 5, 2021
1 – “Before sunrise, you hear the call of the lions The future secret of Ordo Bucintoro.” Causa Nostra. Web.–e0804a04.htm
2 – Crowley, Aleister. “Foreword.” The Book of Lies . 1912. Web.
3 – “82 The Hypnerotomachia Poliphili.” Codex 99. 4 Jan 2011. Web.
4 – Ibid.
5 – Ibid.
6 – Mary Poppins? “Ordo Bucintoro.” The Portal (The Intelligence Hub for the Victory of Light). (2014): Web.

Café Royale circa 1999 | Jack Heart on Patreon


Café Royale circa 1999 | Jack Heart on Patreon

I’ve recently spent a month in Europe doing field research with my co writer Orage. What I found was as I have suspected; history, religion and everything we’ve been told about how things really are, are nothing but fabrications. I’m reminded of something I once read in a book by Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh; I believe it was The Temple and the Lodge. An English king is surveying his court and in the corner he sees a scribe intently writing, engrossed in his work. He remarks to the others “scribble scribble scribble, just what the world needs another book.” 

 In his ninetieth century masterpiece Thus Spake Zarathustra Friedrich Nietzsche, the greatest of all philosophers, lamented the invention of the printing press saying “they vomit up their bile and call it newspapers!” A hundred and fifty years earlier in his landmark work The Principles of Human Knowledge George Berkeley, the true Master of Reality, begins by saying the “illiterate majority of people, who walk the high road of plain common sense and are governed by the dictates of nature” are the only people who are psychologically well adjusted.   We’ve all read too many books, watched to too many movies, listened to too many podcasts. Don’t tell me what you think! Tell me what you’ve seen or shut the fuck up! As the colloquialism goes opinions are like assholes everybody has one. Excuse me for I have no Ph D in philosophy, theology or anthropology. I have never performed intellectual fellatio on my pasty faced professor to get one and I never will. I got my degree in these subjects on the streets of New York City and I can, will and have put it against any piece of paper excreted from the likes of Harvard, Yale or Oxford. As Jim Morrison once said “when I was back in seminary school…”

Phil was a stone cold killer. Some of his resume is covered in my unpublished first book, but not all of it. He was still alive when I wrote it. Although he was of Polish and Italian descent, he’d made his bones in the South Bronx working as an enforcer for a woman called Ms. Iris who ran the Puerto Rican mafia and owned a string of topless bars which retailed cocaine all along Rosedale Avenue with the blessings of the NYC police department. He’d told me ten years ago that one day he would kill Richie and now he was back with a mandate from a powerful faction of the Italian mob to do just that…
After wallowing in self pity for almost a year over my failed marriage; crack pipe stuffed in my face and self-respect naught but a distant memory I had cleaned myself up, picked myself up by the bootstraps, as the limp dicked republicans like to say, just in time to be hired as Richie’s bodyguard. Without me, Richie was a dead man and so were all his make believe gangster friends. They were all terrified of Phil, whom long ago had been dubbed “Lurch” by the Long Island police, possibly because of his charming habit of playing with the severed heads of his friends.
I’d been sitting on Richie for weeks, sleeping on his couch with rounds chambered, safety’s off, in a twelve gauge pump shotgun and a semi-automatic forty caliber pistol. My only respite had been when the mostly Black bouncers from Richie’s flagship club, the Café Royale, had come over early one morning with a pile of coke and a couple of bottles of Hennessy. Since they were all armed, I allowed myself to drop my guard and party with them just that once. During those weeks, Richie and I had never left Richie’s palatial waterfront home.
About three weeks in, I was introduced to Larry, half Italian, half Black and two hundred and sixty pounds of muscle, with a resume almost as extensive as Phil’s. He had just gotten out of jail and I was told that he would now be my partner in babysitting Richie. Larry shunned the obligatory “nine” of the growing Black hip hop culture in favor of a German Luger, which was the first thing I noticed about him that made him stand out from the twenty or so Black tough guys who bounced Richie’s strip clubs. The second thing I noticed was Larry’s intelligence and his soft and articulate way of speaking, which was undermined by a steely coldness that served like the warning colors of a deadly snake…

Richie was a very intelligent man, well read and highly educated, but he was like a man without a soul and his only real concern in life was what Richie was going to get out of it. Consequently, he would double cross anyone who got in his way, including his own father and anyone foolish enough to go in with him on a business deal, which was why there were those who wanted him dead. With only Richie to talk to, Larry and I soon became fast friends.
Phil for his part burned Richie’s make believe gangster partners car in his driveway, then using his experience as a linesman for cable TV to cut off the electric in the whole neighborhood, calling his house and telling his wife he was now coming to kill the whole family. When he wasn’t amusing himself like this, he would march into bars under Richie’s control with our old crew, all screwed by Richie, take them over and split the nights take with the legitimate owners, telling them they would now pay him instead of Richie or suffer the consequences.
When he wasn’t doing that, he was relentlessly stalking Richie, who with both me and Larry now at his side, got up the courage to go to his office in the Café Royale. I remember Phil calling the Café and telling Richie what he was wearing. When I was told this I was eating lunch in the back rooms with some of the girls and I pulled my piece right in front of them and went outside with Larry looking for him. Of course, Phil was nowhere to be found. We weren’t about to go after Phil, not for Richie, but we weren’t about to let Phil kill him either. I still considered Phil a friend, we’d been through a lot together, much of it making Richie his first few millions…
Phil was a real tough guy and so were the people he was with; the Murphy brothers and company, maybe the toughest in NY at the time, present company excluded. But they were no match for Richie and his Jewish lawyer, who practically ran Suffolk County. In the end, they set Phil and my old friends up with the FBI and I remember them both cheering like their football team had just won the Super Bowl when they got word they had all been arrested.
Now it was time for Larry and I to reap the benefits of our labor. We were put in charge of security for the Café Royale, money for nothing, free drugs and booze and the most beautiful women in NY at our disposal. I couldn’t help but notice this group of young Italian American men who were drinking for free and cluttering up the VIP room, making it unfit for the paying customers with their antics. When I inquired as to who they were I was told that was Tommy D and his crew. His father was a big shot captain, a “real killer,” for an Italian faction of the NYC mob.
Now I had my own reputation and I wasn’t about to, after dealing with Phil and company, allow it to be sullied by some punks living off daddy’s reputation. I stormed into the VIP room in a calculated rage and took a seat right next to Tommy D and bought him a drink. I told him to finish the drink and take his friends and get out and don’t come back. When he said to me “who the hell are you,” I pulled my pistol and slammed it down on the bar, telling him “I’m the guy whose gonna shoot you, you spill one drop of your drink, go on and test me. Let’s see you spill a drop.” I was just about frothing at the mouth and he turned a whiter shade of pale as they say, calling to his friends, about a half a dozen of them to get up and leave, which they did.  
A few weeks went by with nothing more being heard from Tommy D. Only Richie’s semi hysterical pleading with me to let him back into the bar served as a reminder that he had ever even been there. It was after four in the morning, past closing time and I was leaning over the bar in the VIP room having a drink with Richie, when I got cracked from behind by somebody wearing brass knuckles. My ex wife had hit me harder with just her fist and I turned toward my assailant fully intending to beat them to death. Richie and a couple of the bouncers grabbed me and all I could do is watch as Tommy D and his hulking accomplice who I surmised was the one that threw the punch scurried out the VIP room door. 
Larry had been working one of the satellite clubs and wasn’t there and I was mad at Richie and the other bouncers for holding me back. But they were just following Richie, their meal tickets lead. He had grabbed me first and they were now all openly remorseful that they had. All except Rodney, a hulking three hundred and fifty pound Black man, who had been Richie’s “#1” before Larry and I got there. Rodney had been working the door and had let them in on the pretext that they were going to talk to Richie and I about being allowed back in the club. He hadn’t seen the punch, just them running back out the front door and just figured the answer was no. He had let them go and now he was livid. There was no consoling him; me I had a little cut on my eye and kind of thought it was funny, the way they had run out of there.  
Days went by and Richie, as he was wont to do, became more and more terrified. He swore there was a contract out on me and that we should arrange a “sit-down” with Tommy D and his father to try and straighten the whole thing out. I told him the guy had japed me from behind, then ran away when I didn’t fall down. There was nothing to talk about; anybody wants a piece of me I will be in the clubs waiting. Years of experience with these guys had taught me that they are very good at shooting their best friends in the back of the head when they ain’t looking, but when it comes to facing down an armed man who was ready for them they ain’t up to it. 
Not only were Larry and I armed, so was Rodney who was just spoiling for payback, Roger Larry’s Cousin, Dave Richie’s nephew, and our doorman, an ex NYC cop and legendary tough guy in his own right who, because nobody who knew him had a bad word to say about him, acted as a go between for all the various factions of the Italian mob. Him I must call Bill and I knew he wasn’t going to let me down either. 
I wasn’t worried in the least and figured they would have a better chance of assassinating President Clinton. But these guys were a little different. Tommy D’s father had a reputation as the most feared “shooter” in NYC. I was standing at the door when they came for me, three Lincoln Continentals, all black and filled with fifty something year old Sicilian Guineas from the city, liquored up on Anisette and chomping cigars like they just walked off a Martin Scorsese set. Bill was out there with me and for once I followed his advice and faded through the side door into the VIP room before they got out of their cars. 
Inside the VIP room I unbuttoned my twelve hundred dollar black leather trench coat from Macys and the bottom button of my thousand dollar black Italian suit. I fingered the handle wrapped in rubber bands, as Bill had taught me to do, of my 357. snub nosed revolver stuffed in the front of my belt and turned to the barmaids. Heidi, a beautiful platinum blond no bleach required, was working the bar with some other girl. Heidi was part of our crew. I told her to pour me a Wild Turkey triple and take the other girl and go to front bar and stay there. The dancers working the back rooms of the VIP were out of the line of fire and besides dancers are expendable. Stand up barmaids are not. Heidi was a smart girl. She didn’t ask any questions and did as she was told.  
I was on the edge of forty at the time. Too old to be stupid and too young to be slow, I figured I had the advantage. They weren’t pulling their guns in the main bar in front of hundreds of witnesses and besides if they did, Bill, Larry and Dave would open up on them. Roger and Rodney were at other clubs. I knew if they came through that door, their guns would still be stashed in their belts just like mine and nobody fifteen years older than me was about beat me to the draw. 
I was alone at VIP bar, larger than the bars in most neighborhood lounges. The big green wooden door swung open and I braced myself to kill or be killed, but it was Bill. There were eight of them at the main bar, mostly drunk and the old man wanted to talk, just me and him. I told Bill to send him in. He was about sixty-five, fit for his age and well dressed. We shook hands embracing as we did, belly to belly, each of us feeling the others weapon under our coats. He told me that I was needlessly creating a situation, when all I had to do was let his son and his friends back in the bar and I would have his personal guarantee they would behave themselves. I told him that I respected him for coming to me by himself and speaking his piece, but as far as I was concerned his son was a coward and a bully and if I was ever to see him again, I was obligated now, after he had his boy jap me from behind then run away, to break every bone in his face. It went back and forth like that for a few minutes, then when he saw my mind was made up he abruptly turned around and walked out.
I knew if he came back through that door it was going to be the twenty-first century’s version of shootout at the OK Corral, so much for partying like its 1999. I’d like to say my head was clear of any thought at the time. Because in a situation like I was in, that’s what it should be, blank and ready to react. But I couldn’t help but wonder if those other guys had backed out and I really was alone against this guy and his whole crew. That was the thing about having had Phil and the Murphy’s at my side; I knew they were never going to back out of anything. Maybe this was karmic payback for going against my old friends for a swindler like Richie… 
The door swung open and in walked Larry. All he said was “they say they gotta kill you now.” He smiled and pulled out his Lugar putting it on the bar then sat down next to it on a stool facing the door. I took out my 357. and put it on the bar, standing next to it about ten feet back from him. He didn’t say another word. Neither did I… 
After a few minutes Bill came in. His cooler head and law enforcement background motivated him, perhaps even obligated him to attempt to diffuse the situation. He told us that they were at the main bar drinking and screwing up their courage to come in. He wanted Larry and me to go downstairs in the basement where the beer was stored and we entertained ourselves with coke and dancers. But it had occurred to me that if they did come in all at the same time we’d have them bottled up in the hallway leading to the VIP trapped in crossfire; Dave and Bill on one side, Larry and me on the other. Their only way out would be through the steel plated front door of the Café which was in the middle of the hallway. If things did not go well for them initially they would use it. I told Bill “let them come” and Larry said “they come through that door and their getting sprayed.” Bill went back outside, looking a bit exasperated. 
I went in back of the bar always mindful to keep my pistol within reach and poured us each a Hennessy; the Black guys all drank Hennessy. I thought about staying back there since it provided partial cover but that just wouldn’t be right with Larry planted right in front of the door, so I came back out and picked up my gun, sat next to him and we finished our drinks. It didn’t matter whether we were close together or not, these guys didn’t have shotguns, let alone machine guns and most of them knew shit about small arms, let alone how to use them in a fight. I knew we’d slaughter them; my only concern was the aftermath… 
After a while Bill came back in, once again pleading his case, this time pointing out the obvious. Regardless of the outcome, we’d all be going to jail. He was the only one there even licensed to have his thousand dollar Beretta 92. The rest of us, particularly Larry and I who both had violent felony convictions, were going upstate probably for the rest of our lives. I finally relented and agreed to go down stairs with Larry, telling Bill “we’ll be waiting at the bottom of the stairs. That door opens up without you knocking; the guy that opens it is a dead man.” We waited at the foot of the stairs in total darkness for what felt like eternity. 
I was holding my pistol pointed at the door when I realized then why you wrapped the handle with rubber bands. My palm was so sweaty the rubber bands were the only thing securing the grip. The door finally opened with no one knocking and we both held our fire just long enough to see the bald ghostly White head of our favorite bar back. He had no idea what had been going on and he nearly fainted dead away when he turned on the light to see us both pointing pistols at him. We told him now that he was there to get down the stairs and stay in the back with the beer. 
Shortly after there was a knock and someone came down the stairs, either Bill or Dave and told us they were gone. Bill had told them I had left. He had even given them a tour of the bar and its labyrinth of back offices just to prove it to them. Stupid fucks must have walked right by the basement door, not knowing how close they had come to buying an early ticket to Hell. Shooting them in the back rooms would have been even better than the VIP. With the ear shattering music outside, no witnesses and a chance to get rid of the bodies we might have even gotten away with it… 
Rodney and Roger came in after that, each having closed their respective bars down early because Richie wouldn’t let them leave the girls alone to do it. Rodney had missed the party again, he wasn’t about to let it happen a third time. 
Maybe about a week or so later I was in the main bar, a converted bowling alley, which was packed to standing room only. I think the feature was Nikki Nova, the hottest soft porn star of her day, whom I was kind of sweet on, chauffeuring her about much to Dave’s amusement. He used to always tell me “why don’t you just fuck her. She’s just a whore like all the rest of these pigs.” He was right too, we partied with these Penthouse centerfolds and porn stars all the time, and it was getting them to put their clothes back on that was the hard part. I was standing at the front when from out of the VIP room came Rodney walking through the crowd toward the back like somebody had just slapped his mother. Nobody had said a word to me, and it was my job to know, so I was wondering what was going on when the crowd parted around the back stage where the features were exhibited and Rodney squared off with this muscle bound White dude. 
The White dude couldn’t touch him. Rodney was supernaturally fast and light on his feet for a normal sized man, let alone a three hundred and fifty pound plus one. He hit the guy with every combination and flurry known to boxing but this guy could take one hell of a beating and he stayed on his feet. Finally Larry steps in front of Rodney and catches the guy with a right hook that sent blood flying a hundred feet away. This is no exaggeration. The feature’s stage was about that far from the fight and the feature had to go wash herself off later on. The guy collapsed in a heap and his friends, about a half dozen of them, picked him up, brought him outside, threw him on the back of a Harley and they all took off. 
It was only then I found out that was the guy who had hit me in the VIP room. They wanted to handle it themselves, they felt obligated too. This was really the first time Black Gangstas had stood up to Italian ones in the topless industry and it would set a whole new precedent, one which Richie of course would make a fortune off of. 
Tommy D had been exposed as a fraudulent mobster and his aging father couldn’t help him anymore. A few weeks later at another club under Richie’s control, Richie’s own fake mafia crew would break every bone in his face and I heard he was eating from a straw for months. Richie who was present for none of it would take credit for all of it and would soon come under FBI scrutiny as the only Topless Bar impresario who didn’t pay mob protection…
Originally appeared on Please be advised we will not be able to reply to your comments on other sites. 
Illustrations & quotes for educational purposes. © Jack Heart 2019

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Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan: Memoir of an awakening god Paperback – January 5, 2021

Have no plans, will travel. The 500,000 reads post

Montsegur- Bertrand Rieger

We’ve hit a milestone that I thought not possible for this blog of unexpected corners, with essays often over 6,000 words of complexity unheard of, yet in a flow easy to follow. With no advertising, sometimes de-listed from searches. In my previous career, ratings were everything, the overnites from 500,000 to a couple of millions for a broadcast. Things were kept in short segments, the complexity down, retelling the same stories, with just enough tease and cliffhangers to get people to tune in and stay during commercial brakes.

This blog is different; we just rounded 500,000 views, have a lively comment section, at times the best of the internet. Our articles have been translated into 20+ languages, appeared in print, collected millions of views elsewhere, most of all on VT. We cater to an audience quite different from mainstream TV, perhaps as unofficial historians of synarchism, with the breadcrumbs beyond the daily make-believe. All this is done perhaps not out of altruism, but free of charge. As you will hear Jack tell below, this show is going on the road. A grail quest, a journey uncharted, a script of He/She. We’ll post here and on Patreon. Follow along and consider pitching in. – Orage

Jack writes:
Back when I was learning how to write on Open Salon, the first thing I learned is that an author is wasting their reader’s time when they are not brutally honest about who they are. A whole school of literary analysis, and rightfully so, has evolved around this all important maxim of communication. It’s called Biographical criticism.
That’s the problem with the Human Race; it has no idea where it came from. As an individual, a Man or Woman can do much better intellectually than the mob by Understanding where what’s being communicated to them is coming from.  
When I learned to write well enough, I wrote a book telling my readers exactly who I am. I did not use my name, I did not use any name. I wanted my male readers to understand my character in the book is every man, a part of them, long suppressed and denied but there, always there. 
There is an essence in woman that is not of this world either, evidenced enough in the collective idea of the witch. The belief that there is an order of supernatural female beings that stalk the earth and actually embody this idea is as old as time itself and permeates the belief systems of every culture before the advent of the time now remembered. The book Those Who would Arouse Leviathan is an account of what happened when these two quintessential archetypes met.  
By the end of 2012 it was done. If you believed what’s in it, and back then I still didn’t, it’s the most important thing ever written. Personally I just thought I’d written a best seller, couched in a language any three digit IQ could Understand and smooth enough to be read on planes, trains and beaches, yet a summary of humanities deepest, darkest secret. When a writer is good enough, like George Berkeley in Principle 93, they know exactly when they have given voice to what was only a vision when they started. 
I was done and I would never be the same. I could never go back in the cave with the other chimps. Now I wanted to be compensated, and compensated well for what was a psychologically herculean effort. I read everything I could find on writing a query, then I wrote a better one and sent it to all relevant publishers and literary agents in hard copy; along with a synopsis and partial manuscript, as required by individual submission policies.
It cost me a few hundred dollars, but I figured after the initial expense I could sit back and sell to the highest bidder. All I got back was the self addressed stamped envelopes requested in some submission guidelines for responses. They were stuffed with a form letter politely saying that my manuscript wasn’t for them.  
I suspected there was something very wrong, what I’d written was an instant bestseller on just the strength of what I’d said about the “Amityville Horror,” all backed by municipal records. Finally, when the post office left a note on my door to come down and pick up a piece of certified mail, I was certain the worm had turned. 
What I got back was my partial manuscript, synopsis and query, certified mail at the publisher’s expense. This is unheard of in the publishing business. The publisher would go broke in a month. Unwanted manuscripts and submissions are discarded. No one takes money out of their pocket for an unsolicited submission, except the party doing the submitting. 
In the packet was an interoffice memo dated April 10, 2013 from the office of literary agent Suzanne Gluck to the legal department of the Morris Agency which is the gold standard in the publishing industry. It was a reference to my “very odd manuscript,” stating “I just wanted to make sure we have a record of receiving it. Please let me know if you have any questions.” 
At that point, I knew the rabbit hole went much deeper than even the contents of the book implied. I already knew from the responses I was getting on Open Salon that I am one of the select few of my generation who can write a coherent essay in prose that don’t read like copywriting. Not knowing yet that I was living in a Sims Game, I figured I would write my own ticket on the Internet, literally. The book remains unpublished till this day.  
As it turned out, the Internet is the easiest form of communication to control and our material, because of the sensitivity of the subject matter, is deemed fit for consumption by those who control it only for a chosen few. If we are to adjust the course of this Flying Dutchmen of a world for bliss, we require a wider audience than what we have been given. As it stands now, this ship is sailing right over the Event Horizon.    
I have watched this timeline get violated like a high school cheerleader at a party in the Hell’s Angels clubhouse. Those that don’t know call it the Mandela Effect. We who understand call it home. In the movie Dark City it was called tuning, technologically speaking it would be called rewriting the program but whatever you want to call it someone or something’s doing it. Sometimes I watch the moon rise in the east and in the west the next night, the stars are almost never in the same place. Or perhaps it is I who am in a different place. 
Maybe I have misjudged my enemies and they are not cowards and weaklings. They simply cannot find me. I am going to make it easy for them; I am going to Europe where most of them live. We will be taking pictures and giving a written account as we go, I’ve already purchased a military grade lap top and we will need a suitable camera. Expenditure will be considerable and Orage estimates it to be at about ten thousand dollars. We will need funding; I’m not going as a tourist I am going as Jack Heart…  


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Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan: Memoir of an awakening god Paperback – January 5, 2021

Chaioth ha-Qadosh – Tookie Memorial Post, Sīrius Calling I by Jack Heart & Orage


This heart tumult is my signal
to you igniting in the tomb.

So don’t fuss with the shroud
And the graveyard dust.

Those get ripped open and washed away
In the music of our final meeting.

And don’t look for me in human shape,
I am inside your looking. No room
For form with love this strong.

– Excerpt from No Room For Form by Rumi  

Special Thanks to Samantha S. & An Nwn 

Tookie died today, he was very sick and in a lot of pain so perhaps it’s for the best for him, not for me though. Yes I love the proverbial Her, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t but there are a lot of issues she chooses to leave unresolved. I never loved anything like I loved that little pink cat; with him there were no issues. All he ever wanted is for me to be happy. He was full of mirth, bobbing his head up and down like a lizard as he pulled tissues from the dispenser, batted my pens and cigarette lighters into places where I couldn’t reach them, or he acrobatically surfed the walls of my apartment, a pink blur with piercing green eyes daring me to try and catch him. 

Other times he would sit for hours on top of the computer tower and watch me type. He hated when I left his sight and would be waiting in the foyer like a dog when I came home. He could open French doors as easily as any human and when I locked my ex wife’s cat, a nuisance but Tookie loved him, in the bedroom Tookie would stoically get up when he caterwauled, scamper to the door in his dainty cat trot and jump up grabbing the handle with his paws till the door swung open. He would then come back to his sentinel post watching me. Sometimes he would leap seemingly impossible distances from his perch onto my shoulder, careful not to scratch me and frantically lick and nuzzle my face. 

He had many endearing habits that said he was more human than animal but perhaps the most striking and I keep very late hours, but when I finally did go to bed he was always sleeping under his blanket in his chair abutting my bed, he would get up walk over my chest and lick my face, then he would go back to his chair and get under his blanket and go back to sleep. He did this every night no matter what time till his final two days when he turned yellow and died…  

He was my only companion in a very dark place. Devils are elusive, when you hunt them you must meet them on their own terms or you will never meet them at all. Although I don’t like it, I did not come here to terminate anything, some of those who really know me have likened me to Harrison Ford in Blade Runner, even sent me the movie. What I can identify with in that movie is the beating he takes to get the job done. These supernatural entities which rationalism, the lie of all lies, conditions you to dismiss as superstition are in fact the only real thing you have left. There is a reason The Lord of the Rings makes for far better reading than academic history books. 

If you think differently then I dare say you are not thinking yet at all. You may be one yourself. If you are still sentient in the aftermath of this transhuman plague that has afflicted Man chances are more than good you are but until you throw off the shackles of Aristotelian abstractions you are of no use to anyone, most of all yourself. You will never reach what they call a Flow State and see things as they really are. 

They have been our collaborators, our enemies and our target audience since the very beginning. I am in contact with many of them, some by phone, some by internet correspondence and others like Her and her own are part of my life and always have been. Those that are part of my life will never admit what they are because I have chosen to be an Outsider. I came for her and they will not give her up. She is the battery that powers their universe. But unfortunately for them she is also the other half of my soul… 

Never the less some of them love me and others hate me. The ones that hate me, because of the rules of sympathetic Magick, must form a bond with me to do me harm. Because they are virtually immortal and can alter “reality” to suit their whims they think nothing of spending years gaining my confidence, sending piles of love letters and showering me with gifts through the mail, playing at being the adoring damsel in distress. 

Back in eighty-nine I saw and participated in things that sensuously verify everything I just told you but because my father always taught me to believe nothing of what I hear and only half of what I see, I chose not to believe that half of my life till she woke me up. I was an easy victim but Tookie always knew who they were. 

There was one in particular from a well known Texas family affiliated with the Hunts of H.L. Hunt; the guy who bankrolled the Kennedy assassination in Texas. She had been calling me every other day and talking for hours for four or five years, which was kind of strange because she didn’t really read what I wrote outside of our pieces on Twin Peaks, for those she sent me both of Frosts books, first editions, along with a lot of other things in the mail. Of course, because she is attractive and fifteen years younger than me, I did nothing to discourage her and would entertain all her various neuroses with whatever empathy I am capable of. 

Tookie would invariably interrupt our phone conversations with his antics which would grow more and more frantic as the conversation progressed. Because we would burn out the batteries on my cellphone I always took her calls on my house phone and consequently out of habit, it is of course cordless, at the kitchen table where the phone is based. Tookie would jump up on the kitchen table caterwauling, he would then proceed to bat anything made of paper off the table, jump onto the windowsill and noisily bat around the blinds and then up to the top of the cabinet where I keep my important papers and folders and send those to the floor too. He did not do that with anyone else, including Orage whom I also engaged in lengthy conversations with. I would narrate to her as we talked what he was doing, jokingly telling her he hated when I talked to her and she always laughed and said he was “not just a cat…” 

When she wasn’t talking about her prolific assortment of psychosomatic pains and complaining about the noise being made by various construction projects being financed by the Hunts who were renovating the resort community she lives in she liked to talk about politics. She was slightly to the right Tomás de Torquemada and hated everyone and everything that was not as lily White as herself, except seemingly me and her stepbrother who is Mexican. Although she was a strong supporter of Veterans Today and the plight of Syria that was only when she had control of some of the content through certain writers who were completely under her spell. When its Senior Editor Gordon Duff dismissed her proxy writer and came out in favor of Hillary Clinton in the 2016 election singling Texas out as a particularly vile and uneducated voting bloc, I believe he called them a bunch of field hands who know nothing about unions, she fumed. 

Her hatred of Hillary Clinton seemed to grow by the day and she went to stay in Houston, in the high-rise apartment of a particularly wealthy branch of her family. One of her relatives, her uncle maybe, kept juicing her in what I know now was an ostensibly teasing directive that she would have to kill Hillary. She told me that she had a dream where Hillary was dressed in a red robe and was the leader of Satanic Coven. I already knew she is extremely clairvoyant, in fact these other entities that I have mentioned and these are two extremely powerful ones that have been known as Goddesses to some and Demons to others, professed to fear her. Since they often lied, or at least at the time I thought they did, I paid it little mind. 

She told me something had to be done about Hillary and the very next day Hillary fainted dead away in front of the world’s media. By Election Day when Hillary broke with a big lead early, I already knew what the outcome would be. Some say the Russians others the Jews interfered with that election but no one no matter how hard they look will ever find any proof that any human being interfered because it was her Magick that put Donald Trump in office…

There has never been an artist of David Lynch’s caliber. For those who know what he’s saying with his art he makes Leonardo da Vinci look like a child scribbling with their crayons. He was born to write the epithet for the Human Race as we know it, Orage and I are just doing the forensics, and that is what he did with his magnum opus Twin Peaks 2017. In episode eight the world has already ended with the first nuclear detonation in the New Mexican desert but due to Quantum Immortality its consciousness does not die with it. God like beings intervene and pack that consciousness into a golden ball to continue an unfinished drama, that must now be played out in a two-dimensional projection. 

After lovingly fondling the ball and kissing it the mother Goddess “lets it go and it floats up to be sucked in the flared end of a golden trombone like contraption that rotates at the top of the great domed ceiling. It passes through the trombone and out the narrow end to be deposited into the screen which now shows a picture of the earth. The globule flattens out when it hits the screen, then becomes part of the picture as it’s heading towards America.” (1

August 6, 1956, under a full Moon in the New Mexican Desert, a repulsive thing that looks like a cross between a frog and a flying cockroach hatchs from an egg and begins crawling across the sand. Two teenagers flirt in front of a country store as Woodsman, the filthy agents of the Black Lodge, materialize in mid-air and float down into the empty scrubland somewhere outside of town. On a dark desert road a man driving with his wife in the passenger seat see the headlights of a car stopped up ahead. When they get up to the light they see it is surrounded by dirty unkempt men who block their way. 

A man who looks like a disheveled Abraham Lincoln, rolled in soot, approach’s the driver’s window and in a metallic other worldly voice says repeatedly “got a light, got a light….” Lights flash and electrical static crackles as time seems to be running like an old silent movie. The man is frozen in the Woodsman’s spell and can’t speak to reply, but his wife shrieks in distorted screams that break the spell enough to stimulate the man to speed off nearly running over a Woodsman in front of the car. (2)

The boy walks the girl to her house. They kiss tentatively and say goodnight. She goes inside retiring to her room. Dirty Abe Lincoln, unable to find a light in the desert sees the KPJK radio station in the distance. As he approaches it KPJK plays a promo of My Prayer released only the month before by the Platters.

“When the twilight is gone and no songbirds are singing
When the twilight is gone you come into my heart
And here in my heart you will stay while I pray
My prayer is to linger with you
At the end of the day in a dream that’s divine
My prayer is a rapture in blue
With the world far away and your lips close to mine
Tonight while our hearts are aglow
Oh tell me the words that I’m longing to know
My prayer and the answer you give
May they still be the same for as long as we live
That you’ll always be there at the end of my prayer”

People in a nearby town listen including a mechanic, a waitress at Pop’s Diner and the young girl now alone in her room. Dirty Abe Lincoln makes his way through the front door of KPJK. He asks the mesmerized receptionist for a light before crushing her skull like a grapefruit with one hand. He sees the Disk Jockey unaware of him in the next room and makes his way in croaking “got a light, got a light.” He grabs the DJ by the top of the head and preempts My Prayer gouging the needle along the forty-five record. He then commences broadcasting his own prayer. “This is the water, and this is the well. Drink full, and descend. The horse is the white of the eyes, and dark within…” (3)

Unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth and potent Black Magick in his words, Dirty Abe Lincoln recites the verse as a verbal loop over and over again casting a spell of sleep upon the mechanic and waitress who faint dead away . The young girl falls asleep on her bed. The cockroach frog has come in out of the desert and takes flight alighting on her window. It crawls inside her room and then as Dirty Abe Lincoln continues to recite his “Jornada del Muerto”* Address on the radio the repugnant creature crawls through the girls open mouth and lodges itself inside of her. Dirty Abe Lincoln culminates the spell by squashing the DJ’s head as the girl continues in restless sleep no longer alone in her room. She is also a Dreamer but all her dreams are nightmares. (4)

In Twin Peaks 2017’s own doctrine of Original Sin, the collective consciousness of the human race has been infected since the beginning. Deputy Director Cole explains to the other FBI agents in the beginning of the final two episodes.

“For twenty-five years I’ve kept something from you Albert. Before he disappeared, Major Briggs shared with me and Cooper his discovery of an entity, an extreme negative force called in olden times Jowday. Over time it became Judy. Major Briggs, Cooper and I put together a plan that could lead us to Judy and then something happened to Major Briggs and something happened to Cooper. Phillip Jeffries, who doesn’t really exist anymore, at least not in a normal sense, told me a long time ago he was on to this entity and he disappeared. Now the last thing Cooper told me was “if I disappear like the others do everything you can to find me. I’m trying to kill two birds with one stone.” (5)

Twin Peaks 2017 opens with a conversation between Agent Cooper (A.C.), now twenty-five years older and a tall gaunt man very similar to the “Giant” from the Red Room in early Twin Peaks but now calling himself the Firemen. They are in a room furnished from the early twentieth century and the scene is filmed in black and white. 

In the distorted vocals requiring subtitles that are characteristic of the disincarnate beings of Twin Peaks the Fireman says “Agent Cooper, listen…to the sounds.” They both look at an old gramophone emitting a clicking noise then back at each other and the Fireman continues; “It is in…our house now.” A.C. looks at him, saying in clear English “It is.” The Fireman answers “it cannot…be said aloud now. Remember 430, Richard…and Linda, two birds…with one stone.” A.C. nods and resolutely says “I understand…” (6) 

“Is it the story of the little girl who lived down the lane” will be repeated again by a creature that calls itself Evolution of the Arm and acts as the narratives overlord, right before Cooper the god is reunited with Diane the goddess in the concluding episode.” (7) It has been asked before by the Dreamer herself Audrey Horne in episode thirteen of Twin Peaks 2017 when she questions Charlie who is the embodiment of the artificial intelligence overseeing her artificial realty. 

It’s not. Twin Peaks the microcosm, is a stage for the much greater drama between A.C. and Diane the male and female archetypes that embody the macrocosm. They must secure the passage of ascension for all the other souls that are their aggregate. Like the lead mountaineer who must scale a vertical mountain wall without the assistance of overhead ropes, in order for the worthy to reach Golden Roofed Hall of the Righteous which is the final prophecy of the Völuspá and the Crown of God in the Sepher Yetzirah; Gimil must first be crossed alone by the archetypes. “Gimil is the path that crosses the abyss or the Wasteland of Wagner and can only be crossed in ascension by God and Goddess together.” (8)  

After Evolution of the Arm, A. C. meets Laura Palmer’s father beyond the curtains of another room. He, as the host for Bob repeatedly raped her through adolescence finally murdering her. He tells A.C. to find her who then exits the Red Room through a portal into a night shrouded Glastonbury Grove under the Sycamore trees. There Diane is waiting for him and they ask each other “is it really you?” They both answer in the affirmative and the scene then switches. It is daylight and they are in an old Chevy driving down a deserted desert road following the AT&T long lines of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company, a division of Bell Telephone. 

Diane turns to A.C. and says “are you sure you want to do this? You don’t know what it’s going to be like once we…” He answers “I know that. We’re at that point now. I can feel it. Look almost exactly four hundred and thirty miles.” He pulls over and stops the car saying “exactly four hundred and thirty miles.” She grabs his hand and says “just think about it Cooper.” He gets out and looks at the power lines, the sound of electricity crackles through them. He looks at his watch and goes back to the car and gets in, saying “this is the place alright. Kiss me. Once we cross it could all be different.” She looks scared but she kisses him and says “let’s go.” He puts the car in gear and as they drive the power lines hiss and crackle loudly illuminating the inside of the car and it suddenly becomes night. 

They drive silently through the night till they come upon a small roadside motel devoid of cars. A. C. goes inside to check them in and Diane sees herself staring at her from behind a stanchion in front of the motel. When he comes back they go inside and begin to make love, the background music is ominous and Diane is visibly filled with fear. My Prayer by the Platters begins to play and their love making builds to its lyrics with Diane crying in terror and moaning with pleasure at the same time. It reaches its orgasmic crescendo with the end of the song. 

“May they still be the same for as long as we live
That you’ll always be there at the end of my prayer”

At the moment of climax she covers his eyes in anticipation of what W. B. Yeats called the “murder” and what Lynch gives his audience a preview of in episode one with the murder of Tracy and Sam when their love making triggers the trap Duncan Todd had laid for A. C. (9) 

Rosarium Philosophorum or the Royal Art which is the act Diane and A. C. are performing must end in the death of the participants, the King and the Queen. Deviations, substitutions, clones and Tulpas just will not do. That is why when they meet in Glastonbury Grove, they assure each other that it is really them. Like all acts of creation it begins in annihilation of what came before it, which is why Diane is so fearful.

In one of the woodcuttings in Le Songe de Poliphile, the lovers are hacked to pieces and their severed limbs fed to the beasts of the forest; in others, the severed limbs are steeped in a vat filled with the amniotic fluid of the wind. The Royal Art is not for squeamish peasants and must be carried out with the conviction of a king and a queen…” (10

When Cooper awakens in the motel room it is morning. Diane is no longer there and he is no longer Agent Cooper. There is note on the table next to the bed for him. “Dear Richard. When you read this I’ll be gone. Please don’t try to find me I don’t recognize you anymore. Whatever it was we had together is over. Linda.” He says to himself “Richard, Linda!” when he steps from the room he is in a modern hotel liberally planted with palm trees and professionally landscaped. His car is brand new and when he makes a right turn out of the parking lot we see he is in Odessa, population 99,940. 

“Odessa is a city in western Texas. Downtown, Jack Ben Rabbit is an 8-foot-tall statue of a jackrabbit. Another 37 Jamboree Jackrabbits dot the city.” (11) 

He comes to a diner with a sign out front that says “Eat at Judy’s” and pulls in. Inside there is a waitress, a cook, a very old couple and three armed Texas Yahoos. He asks the waitress if another waitress works there and she tells him yes but this is her third day off. When she leaves his table she is accosted by the three yahoos and loudly objects. He tells them to leave her alone and they swagger over to his table and one of them draws his gun. Demonstrating the same superhuman speed and strength as his doppelgänger he disarms them, incapacitating two of them and getting the drop on the third. He puts their guns in the deep fryer and gets the address of the other waitress. Before leaving the seven of them slack jawed and stunned he tells the waitress “its okay I’m with the FBI…” (12) 

The address, 1516, takes him to a rundown house in a seedy part of town. In front of the house is a pole with a transformer and below it the number 324810 over a larger 6. In the movie prequel to Twin Peaks; Twin Peaks Firewalk With Me, which takes place before Agent Cooper is assigned to the murder of Laura Palmer, Agent Chet Desmond had been investigating the murder of Teresa Banks who was also killed by Laura’s father. An old woman using the name of Chalfont but later in the Twin Peaks series called Mrs. Tremond had been living in the Fat Trout Trailer Park with her grandson. 

Agent Desmond found Teresa Banks missing ring beneath the Chalfont’s trailer but when he stooped to pick it up he vanished. Right before Desmond picked the ring up he’d been examining a pole in front of the trailer with a transformer on it. He had examined the same pole and transformer in his initial visit to the Fat Trout Trailer Park. Both times he said nothing but it’s obvious that he sees something important. “On the pole is the number 324810 over a larger 6.” (13)

Firewalk With Me covers the weeks leading up to Laura Palmer’s murder. She is alive in the movie. Agent Coopers assignment in the movie is to find out what happened to Agent Desmond but by the time he gets to the Fat Trout Trailer Park to investigate his disappearance the Chalfont’s and their trailer are also gone. 

He goes up to the door and knocks loudly announcing that he’s the FBI when from behind the closed door she asks who it is. Laura Palmer, twenty-five years older, answers breathlessly saying “did you find him.” He looks at her quizzically saying “Laura?” She questions “you didn’t find him?” He repeats louder “Laura?” She tells him “you got the wrong house mister.” He answers “you’re saying you’re not Laura Palmer?” Confused she answers “Laura who? No I’m not her. No.” He asks “what’s your name?” Grudgingly she says “Carrie Page.” (14) 

He plies her with reminders of another life in Twin Peaks and when he tells her Sarah Palmer was her mother, a hint of recognition crosses her face. She perplexedly asks him what’s going on and he tells her it’s difficult to explain, he wants her to come with him to Twin Peaks. She explains that she needs to get out of town anyway and going with the FBI might be her safest way out. She tells him to come in while she gets her things and when he does he sees why she has to get out of town. There’s a dead man in an easy chair with a hole in middle of his forehead and his brains all over the wall… 

They drive straight through only stopping for gas. When they reach what should be the home of Sarah Palmer, it’s late at night. They both get out and tentatively go to the door. He knocks and a woman he does not recognize answers the door. He identifies himself as an FBI agent and asks for Sarah Palmer. She tells him there’s no one there by that name and she doesn’t know anybody with that name. He asks her who she bought the house from and after consulting with her husband who is somewhere in the house and can neither be seen nor heard by the audience she answers “Chalfont, Mrs. Chalfont.” When he asks her what her name is she tells him “Alice, Alice Tremond…” (15) 

They walk away perplexed and step into the street. He pauses in the street as if he has just thought of something and turns to Laura asking her what year they are in. Somewhere in the wind, as if paraphrasing Jimi Hendrix in The Wind Cries Mary, a voice can be heard crying Laura. She lets out a primordial shriek that echoes through the darkness blowing out the electricity in the house which suddenly goes dark. Thus ends the new Greatest Story Ever Told..

When A. C. awakens and finds himself as Richard in Odessa Texas, the city of Jackrabbits, it is an allusion to both the finality of Rosarium Philosophorum and Jackrabbits Palace where the portals open up in Twin Peaks. Odessa’s population 99,940 is a number made up by Lynch and Frost. The population of Odessa is well over a hundred thousand and has been for quite some time. The 999 is 666 reversed just like when the drug addled mother mutters 119 in reference to America’s great staged terrorist event 911 in an earlier episode when a bomb is planted in A. C.’s car by the agents of Duncan Todd. Todd in turn is an agent of paperclip Nazi’s based in Argentina. That’s why the forces aligned against A.C. are seemingly being directed from a black box in Buenos Aires. 

That the evil alternative universe of Judy is based in Texas should be a given for any ethical human being, especially Americans. As a Texas Ranger states about Texas in a recent commercial for televisions Investigative Discovery Channel: “Hell is a local call from here.” It is a place where punks swagger around packing pistols with the blessings of the law and murder is as cavalier as the corpse on Carrie Page’s couch. It is where the last decent man to occupy the White House was gunned down on a city street by Texas oil barons led by H. L. Hunt. It is the home of John Hagee and the Christian apostasy of Zionism which exhorts Anglo Saxons to murder the world in the name of a savage tribe of nomads from Russia impersonating the “Jews” from a bible of their own invention. If Nietzsche is right and God is dead, they killed him in Texas… 

Mark Frost, whose job is to take what Lynch gives him and embellish a story around it, writes in The Final Dossier the addendum to The Secret History of Twin Peaks that Joudy, Judy’s original name “is the name of an ancient entity in Sumerian. (This dates back to at least 3000 B.C.) The name was used to describe a species of wandering demon – also generically known as utukku – that “had escaped from the underworld” and roamed freely throughout the earth, where they feasted on human flesh and, allegedly, ripped the souls from their victims which provided even more meaningful nourishment. They particularly thrived while feeding – and I quote – “on human suffering.” 16 

Frost then goes on to say that if a male and the female utukku should ever mate, it would resultantly end the world, mistakenly interjecting Rosarium Philosophorum into an already confused narrative of “distorted facts,” to borrow a term from Bob Dylan’s Idiot Wind. The utukku or udug as they were known by the Sumerians are the most ambiguous of all the Sumerian entities, some good, some bad. Most scholars feel they should be classified as Daemons not Demons, much like the Djinn. None have the power to destroy the world. Among the Sumerian pantheon only Chaoskampf Tiamat can do that because as Tiamat she created it by mixing salt and fresh water. Frost is Grasshopper to Lynch’s Master and what he says must be taken, to borrow a pun from Tiamat, with a grain of salt… 

In all truth Frosts books must be viewed as Twin Peaks version of apocrypha. If it was not overseen by Lynch it’s not canonical which is why episodes eight to twenty-one in season two must also be taken with a grain of salt. Twin Peaks Fire Walk With Me is the closest Lynch has ever come to an explanation. The movie was released about a year after season 2 ended and Frost did not work with him in its making. Unfortunately, over half the movie was edited out of the finished version and rights to Twin Peaks Fire Walk With Me are, maybe not so coincidentally, now owned by a company named MK 2… 

In Twin Peaks: The Missing Pieces, a compilation of the over three hours that was cut out of the movie, Agent Jefferies, investigating an international criminal consortium which appears to revolve around a woman named Judy, inquires about her in a hotel in Buenos Aires and is given a letter by the desk clerkThe clerk tells him that the young lady left it for him. He gets in the elevator at the hotel and when he gets out he is in the Philadelphia headquarters of the FBI. He has been missing for two years but he is seemingly unaware of that as he tries to explain to Agent Cole and Agent Rosenfield whom he knows and Agent Cooper whom he is just meeting what he has seen. 

Agent Jefferies has been riding the wave where Time does not exist and his memories although bordering on omniscience, are confused.  The first thing he says is “I’m not going to talk about Judy.  Keep Judy out of this.” Then deeply disturbed he points at Cooper. “Who do you think that is there?” Cole and Rosenfield try to calm him, seemingly contradicting himself he then tells them “I want to tell you everything, but I don’t have a lot to go on.  But I’ll tell you one thing:  Judy is positive about this.” (17)  

Rosen sarcastically reminds him that he wasn’t going to talk about Judy and Jeffries says “Listen to me carefully. I saw one of their meetings.  It was above a convenience store.” Rosen asks him what meeting and where has he been. Raising his voice Cole tells him “FOR GOD SAKES, JEFFRIES, YOU’VE BEEN GONE FOR DAMN NEAR TWO YEARS.” Jeffries tells him “It was a dream. (Takes Albert [Rosenfield] by the arm)We live inside a dream.” When Rosen scoffs Jeffries says “NO, NO.  I found something…  in Seattle at Judy’s…  And then, there they were…” (18) 

The scene switches from Coles plush high-rise office. According to the script there are “SIX PEOPLE in a large, barren, filthy room.  Cheap plastic storm windows flap in the cold wind.  In the foreground the Man From Another Place (Mike) [the dwarf who will become Evolution of the Arm in Twin Peaks 2017] and BOB sit at a formica table.  Behind them on plastic torn chairs huddle MRS. TREMOND and her GRANDSON. TWO BIG WOODSMEN with full beards sit quietly.” (19)

In a garbled voice requiring subtitles as they all do, one says “We have descended from pure air. The dwarf says “Going up and down. Intercourse between the two worlds.” Bob enthralled by all the pain and suffering he is inflicting grins “Light of new discoveries.” Mrs. Tremond looking stern and flanked by her contingent of woodsmen asks “Why not be composed of materials and combinations of atoms?” And her grandson says: “This is no accident.” From across the room as he pats the table the dwarf leers: “This is a formica table.  Green is its color…” (20) 

Later in the movie, about a week before Laura Palmer is murdered, Mrs. Tremond and her grandson appear like surreal apparitions in front of the Double R Diner and give the mesmerized Laura a painting of the room above the convenience store. Later Mrs. Tremond appears in Laura’s dream inside the room in the picture and beckons Laura to come through an open door.  

In the second episode of the second season Donna Hayward, Laura Palmer’s best friend and deeply involved in the investigation of her murder, is doing volunteer work for a Meals on wheels charity that Laura also did work for when she delivers food to Mrs. Tremond who is bedridden. Her grandson is there dressed in his magician’s suit and causes the creamed corn in Mrs. Tremond’s tray to disappear and reappear in his hands. Tremond explains that he is studying magic but without prepping as it occurred it is an impossible feat and deeply unnerves Donna. When she goes back there with Agent Cooper in the ninth episode of the second season, days later in the storyline, a completely different woman, that never heard of Tremond lives there. But she gives Donna a letter that is addressed to her that she says appeared in her mail. It contains a crucial missing page from Laura Palmer’s secret dairy. 

In Twin Peaks 2017 electricity crackles and jumps across overhead wires as Agent Coopers Doppelgänger drives on a dark and empty country road. In the middle of nowhere he comes upon the well lit convenience store and a Woodsmen steps out from the pumps to meet him. They walk silently together up the stairs on the side of the building and disappear into a portal when they reach the top. They reappear in another dilapidated building. The Doppelgänger addresses another Woodsman seated in front of what looks like a 1940’s style transmitter “I’m looking for Phillip Jeffries.” (21)

The Woodsmen throws a switch and there is crackling electricity and a whirring mechanical sound as everything vibrates. When it stops another Woodsman leads the Doppelgänger across a dark corridor. When they come to a stairway they go up and the Doppelgänger goes through a door that leads to the courtyard of a single story motel where a couple of Woodsmen stand around in the shadows. The Doppelgänger crosses the courtyard to room eight, the only room with a light and finds that it’s locked. A woman approaches him and speaking in the distorted voice of the interdimensional entities says “I’ll unlock the door for you.” (22)

When she does the Doppelgänger gains entrance to what is at first an empty room but gradually a Glocke with a spout like the golden one at the top of the vaulted ceiling over the Giant and the Matron in episode eight appears. This is Jeffries, or what’s left of him. The Doppelgänger presses as to why Jeffries wants him killed and Jeffries tells him “we used to talk.” To which the Doppelgänger replies “yes we did 1989 you showed up at FBI headquarters in Philadelphia and said you’d met Judy.” (23)

Jeffries says “so you are Cooper.” The Doppelgänger asks: “Phillip why didn’t you want to talk about Judy? Who is Judy? Does Judy want something from me?” Jeffries replies “why don’t you ask Judy yourself. Let me write it down for you.” Steam from the spout of the Jeffries Glocke transmits something which The Doppelgänger writes down (coordinates). When the Doppelgänger persists in asking who Judy is Jeffries tells him “you’ve already met Judy.” (24) 

It was her who unlocked the door for him; Jeffries has been in her service for over twenty-five years, since the time he disappeared for good. The Glocke he is in belongs to the Bormann faction of the Nazi’s who took it with them when they relocated to South America at the close of WW II. Judy, their ally, is a Skinwalker. There is no need to rely on barely understood translations, if at all, of Sumerian cuneiform to understand her and her kind. 

She can walk the earth in the skin of animals and those she possesses like the others or as the most powerful of them she can take any form she likes using in her own words “materials and combinations of atoms…” She is Mrs. Tremont and Mrs. Chalfont. She is the completely different woman that Donna Hayward found when she went back to the Tremont residence with Agent Cooper. And she is Alice Tremont. Her alliance with the Bormann faction of National Socialist traitors allows her, using their Glocke, to generate a world where her and her kind’s unspeakable appetites will be catered too as will her human partner’s insatiable appetite for the material. 

I am not a big fan of Hollywood and outside of certain westerns, Billy Jack when I was a kid, To Kill a MockingbirdNetwork and some of John Carpenters movies, I have little use for it. I’ve went years without ever even turning a TV set on and seldom do now unless it’s to watch the Investigative Discovery Channel when I go to bed. I had seen Twin Peaks & the X Files in ninety-two and ninety-three and I was struck by the strangeness inside that watching Twin Peaks evoked but I had other things to do back then than watch television. The name David Lynch only really became significant to me when I researched my first big internet piece back in 2011, the one that got Scot Wolter his job and Meredith Fowke calling me on the phone: The Cross, the Rabbi & the Skin Walker by Jack Heart – The Human: Jack Heart, Orage and Friends (

It begins with a place in Utah dubbed the Skinwalker Ranch that was the scene of extensive paranormal phenomenon in the mid-nineties that ran the gamut from UFO’s and poltergeist activity, to big foots, disembodied voices and shadow people. The story included a Dire wolf that tried to drag away a calf in spite of taking 5 bullets from a rancher’s guns. A figure in the darkness with a three foot widespread between its glowing yellow eyes that left a Velociraptor claw print on the ground before it disappeared after being shot at. Intelligently controlled floating globules of light regularly roamed the ranch harassing cattle and incinerating dogs. Twenty-four cattle either disappeared or were mutilated. It was covered by the Las Vegas Mercury News.

It was the biggest story in the UFO community at the time, maybe in its history. The ranch was purchased by Las Vegas billionaire Robert Bigelow founder of the National Institute of Discovery Science and in all likelihood Lynch’s inspiration for his Duncan Todd character. He moved in a paramilitary force, his own writer George Knapp who has the odious distinction of having introduced Bob Lazar and Area 51 to the world and sealed it off to anyone but his own personnel which included a staff of elaborately equipped scientists. When the UFO community balked he simply bought MUFON. No one but Bigelow and his synarchic overlords really know what went on there but George Knapp of course wrote a book; Hunt For The Skinwalker

The Ute Indians knew all about the place and were forbidden by tribal law to set foot on the land. They blamed the Navajo for setting it loose on them with their curses. The Navajo whose history goes back to before Sumer call it “yee nadlooshii,” which means to walk or travel like an animal. Skinwalker manifestations are known to end in possession, incestuous murder, necrophilia and cannibalism. No one talks about it openly because it is always there and to acknowledge it gives it a foothold. It is a shape shifter that can take any form it wishes. It can be a disembodied intelligence or generated through a Medicine Man who has mastered Black Magick and according to tribal lore must be killed. 

Lynch’s name kept coming up in the treads I was examining about Skinwalkers, trying to get beyond what Knapp had put out. People who were knowledgeable in the esoteric lore of the southwest’s Native Americans darkly alluded to Lynch and his Twin Peaks series being a docudrama about the Skinwalker phenomenon. Lynch’s tale takes place in Washington State and Oregon but Native Americans of the Pacific Northwest can be linked by both the Athabaskan language and through the presence of Haplo-Group X in their mitochondrial DNA to the Navajo of America’s southwest, which they are. Because of the occult forces which even by then I knew were driving my own work I took notice of the name David Lynch…

Lynch does not depict the spiral portals that are the trademark of pictographs found in the southwest until the ninth episode of Twin Peaks 2017. What he does do almost from the moment Laura Palmer’s dead body washes up on the beach to start the nineties is give an account of a malevolent intelligence, with all its accompanying psychic phenomenon, that’s appetites for incest, rape and murder are well documented in Native American folklore. 

Depending on the circumstances in Babylonian and Sumerian lore the utukku or udug can be the equivalent of the guardian angel or the demon from the movie the Exorcist. The same entity can and does often fulfill both roles. “This shifting quality of the udug demon and its inherent malleable quality arise, in part from the flexibility of the term itself; as udug may refer to one demon or a group of demons, when the udug appears as an individual demon, it is a study in generic description, a template for the perfectly average demon.” (25)

“There are few descriptions of the udug demon, and no pictorial references to it on either seal impressions or statuary.” There is an ancient Babylonian incantation that describes the udug as “the one who, from the very beginning, was not called a name…  The one who never appeared with a form…” (26)

As Mrs. Tremont’s grandson said “this is no accident.” The one armed man when asked who BOB is in the early episodes answers “he is Bob, eager for fun. He wears a smile. Everybody run. Do you understand the parasite? It attaches itself to a life form and feeds. Bob requires a human host. He feeds on fear and the pleasures. They are his children.” (27) 

The conversation in the room above the convenience store in Firewalk with Me is probably the best information available to the human race as to the origins and motives of these strange and ominous beings that have been a threat to life since the days of the Anunnaki

When the Woodsman says “We have descended from pure air. And the dwarf answers “Going up and down. Intercourse between the two worlds.” Clearly these are not the Judeo- Christian conception of demons. They don’t come from a lower world. They come from a higher purer world. As the grinning BOB says they have come here for the “Light of new discoveries.” And just like humans when they have discovered something new they indiscriminately exploit it. 

It was Mark Frost back in October of 2016 in The Secret History of Twin Peaks who first broached the fact that they are from Sīrius, without ever even saying Sīrius. At the exact same time we were publishing Lucifer in the Temple of the Dog parts 1 and 2There we tell you, and them, exactly how, when and why they are here but being blunt has gotten us censored even more than we were before publishing that piece. They don’t like criticism and have an aversion to the truth, or for that matter even mentioning Sīrius… 

In a fictitious interview in Frost’s book, Jack Parsons talks about calling forth the fearsome “messengers of the gods” in a place called “Jornada del Muerto” or “Journey of the Dead Man…” Parsons says it is said the Tall Nordics, synonymous with the Giant in seasons one and two and the Fireman in season three, “have always been here. Supposedly they come from the Dog Star.” When the interviewer asks him what the Dog Star is Parsons only says “Serious.” When the interviewer says “Yes, I’m serious” Parsons just laughs at him… (28) 

In interviews after the showing of the first episode of Twin Peaks 2017 Madeline Zima the actress who played Tracy and was brutally murdered in the first episode with Sam, talked about taking a role where she would be dying naked while in the act of copulation, the privilege of working with David Lynch, and how he would discuss nothing about the movie with any of the actors on the set like it was a national security issue. In fact, she describes auditioning for her part: “I got the script pages hand-delivered to me, which I had to give back. It was like being a CIA agent, it was awesome. You get these clandestine materials, review them, and return them back to your contact in this amount of time.” (29

The issues dealt with in Twin Peaks go far beyond national security and to the best of my knowledge we are the only ones who have ever openly discussed them. No one is allowed to say Sīrius. Frost couldn’t even say it in his book. But Lynch did put it out there a few times, cryptically of course. In the first episode the body of a forty something man is found by the police in an apartment in Buckthorn North Dakota. His head is missing and in its place is the head of the woman who lived there; Ruth Davenport. The police arrest her married boyfriend William Hastings for the crime and later it will be found that the body is Major Briggs although he should be in his seventies. 

As it turned out in later episodes when he was debriefed by the FBI Hastings, a school principle also ran a blog about alternate dimensions. After finding his way in one he and his secretary Ruth Davenport had dealings with Major Briggs. The dealings ended badly. According to Hastings “We gave him the numbers and he started to float up and he said some words ‘Cooper…Cooper’ right before his head disappeared. It was like something no one has ever seen before. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve never read anything like it. You don’t know you weren’t there. He …it was beautiful and then Ruth was dead. It was so terrible. I had to hold her. And then I woke up and I was I was in my home. I was in my home.” The FBI agent asks him “did the Major kill Ruth?” He answers, “no there was so many people there…” (30) 

But in the opening episode right after finding the mutilated body’s the police go to Hastings house and while searching the trunk of his car under a cooler they find what looks to be an internal organ and Detective Dave Macklay simply remarks “woof.” (31) 

Macklay, just by the condition of the murder scene and his discovery of the treat in the trunk of the car, is saying Sīrius. He’s an insider, later his investigation will be usurped by a liaison officer from the military who answers to a Commanding Officer who in turn answers to someone, unseen, on the phone. He is along with the FBI when they take Hastings back to the coordinates of the portal he went through and sitting right next to him in the car when his head is imploded by a Woodsman, invisible to Macklay because he can move between time. 

Dr. Amp harangues the powers that be with his pirate broadcasts that seem to threaten an attack by some unseen and overwhelming force. Before assuring them: “We’re coming for you. Yeah, we’re coming for you!” He begins his broadcast: “Its seven o’clock do you know where your freedom is? Coming to you live and electrified from studio A high atop the escarpments on Whitetail Peak, the roof, ruff ruff, of the American Hindu Kush.” (32) Again the dog bark is used as a euphemism for Sīrius, which Dr. Amp is identifying as the authority from whence he speaks, and perhaps the authority from whence Lynch is speaking too. 

When the FBI is shown the contents of the Doppelgänger’s car at the prison the Doppelgänger is being held in after crashing it there is as would be expected a kilo of cocaine, a machine gun and without any explanation a dog’s leg. The only remark made is by Agent Rosen who quips “what no cheese and crackers?” (33) Later the Doppelgänger arranges a meeting with the warden by telling the guard that he needed to talk to him about a strawberry. When they meet the warden pulls a gun on him and the Doppelgänger speaks menacingly “the dog leg. That dog had four legs. One you found in my trunk. The others went out with the information you’re thinking about right now to people you don’t want coming around here if anything bad happens to me.” (34)

The warden puts the gun away and asks “how do I know you know anything about …this” afraid to even mention the word. The Doppelgänger his tone becoming even more menacing responds “Joe McCluskey.” He then tells the warden he wants a car for himself and Ray Monroe with “a friend in the glove compartment” to be ready at one AM that night “and if your mind should wander to a place where I might not make it out of here alive remember the dog legs. I’m not interested in you. You’ll never see me again and no one will ever hear anything more about Joe McCluskey or your late Mr. Strawberry.” (35) 

With Diane’s recalcitrance and the scene in front of the motel where she is staring at herself Lynch has left the outcome of a contest of wills between two equally matched beings unresolved. It cannot be predicted but when Laura Palmer lets out her primordial scream at the end of the series blowing the lights out on Judy and pulling the plug on the Black Lodge A. C. has clearly succeeded in killing at least one bird. But Sīrius is calling… 

Chaioth ha-Qadosh – Tookie Memorial Post, Sīrius Calling II By Jack Heart & Orage – The Human: Jack Heart, Orage and Friends (

Illustrations & quotes for educational purposes. © Jack Heart 2019


On page 255 of The Secret History of Twin Peaks, a book written by Mark Frost explaining some of the esoteric themes of the series and released in 2016, exactly twenty-five years later as promised back in June of ninety-one, Jack Parsons Aleister Crowley’s protégé and the founder of Jet Propulsions Laboratories and by proxy NASA says he performed a Crowley ritual contacting the “messengers of the gods” out by White Sands, New Mexico, where the atomic bomb was tested, in a place called Jornada del Muerto. “It means Journey of the Dead Man…” 

1 – Heart, Jack and Orage . “Jack Heart: A Brief Review for Our Eyes Only.” Veterans Today. 24 May 2019. Web. 

2 –  Lynch, David, and Mark Frost.Twin Peaks,Season 3, episode 8; (46:00 – 51:00). Showtime Networks, July 30, 2017.

3 – Ibid (51:00-52:00).

4 – Ibid (52:00 – 56:00).

5 – Ibid, episode 17 (2:00-4:00).  

6 – Ibid, episode 1 (5:00 – 6:00).

7 – Heart, Jack and Orage . “Jack Heart: Opening the Eye of Shiva; Twin Peaks 2017.” Veterans Today . 6 Apr 2019. Web. 

8 – Heart, Jack and Orage . “Jack Heart: Of Freyja and Lilith, Goddesses and Demons & the Lie of Judeo-Christianity II.” Veterans Today. 30 Apr 2019. Web. 

9 – Twin Peaks,Season 3, episode 18; (9:00 – 23:00).

10 – Heart, Jack and Orage . “Aleister Crowley, Loki’s Brood & the Fury of Hell… pt2.” Veterans Today. 14 Nov 2018. Web. 

11 – Google Maps.,+TX/@30.5076961,-103.646324,6.75z/data=!4m5!3m4!1s0x86fbc96a39137cf9:0x1625ab3454615f46!8m2!3d31.8456816!4d-102.3676431

12 – Twin Peaks,Season 3, episode 18; (23:00 – 31:00).

13 – Heart, Jack and Orage . “Very soon the Gates to a New Dimension will Open.” Veterans Today. 4 Sep 2017. Web. 

14 – Twin Peaks, Season 3, episode 18; (33:00 – 34:00).

15 – Ibid, (51:00 – 52:00). 

16 – Frost, Mark. “Judy.” Twin Peaks The Final Dossier. New York: Flatiron Books, Oct, 2017. 121-122. Print.

17 – Lynch, David and Bob Engels. “Twin Peaks Fire Walk With Me screenplay (script).” Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (scene 52). 1992. Web. 

18 – Ibid. 

19 – Ibid(scene 53).

20 – Ibid.

21 – Twin Peaks,Season 3, episode 15; (10:00 – 24:00).

22 – Ibid.

23 – Ibid. 

24 – Ibid.  

25 – Konstantopoulos, Gina (2017), “Shifting Alignments: The Dichotomy of Benevolent and Malevolent Demons in Mesopotamia.” Chap. 2, page 26.

26 – Ibid. pp 24 -25.

27 – Twin Peaks,Season 2, episode 6; (43:00).

28 – Frost, Mark. The Secret History of Twin Peaks. New York: Flatiron Books, Oct, 2016. 254-255. Print.

29 – Heart, Jack and Orage . “Esoteric Twin Peaks II – Doppelgänger and Orgasmic Energy.” Veterans Today. 16 Dec 2017. Web. 

30 -Twin Peaks,Season 3, episode 9; (47:00 – 48:00).

31 – Ibid, episode 1; (59:00). 

32 – Ibid, episode 5; (41:00 -42:00). 

33 – Ibid, episode 4; (45:00). 

34 – Ibid, episode 7; (31:00 – 33:00). 

35 – Ibid. 

Below are two links where you can purchase Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan. I would suggest you buy it in hardcopy, not because I make more, I actually make the most from Amazon E books, but because you will avoid giving Amazon any money. Frankly you should be shooting Amazon employees in the street, Google too.

Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan by Jack Heart, Hardcover | Barnes & Noble® ( Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan: Memoir of an awakening god: 9781736288016: Heart, Jack: Books

Of Freyja and Lilith, Goddesses and Demons & the Lie of Judeo-Christianity II by Jack Heart & Orage


Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow:
You are not wrong who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand–
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep–while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allan Poe, 1809-1849

We’ve already told you who Edgar Allen Poe really was in Ragnarök III- Loki’s Revenge II. He had an Above Top Secret military clearance before there even was such a thing. Those that knew him all attested to the fact that he was neither a drug addict nor a drunk as his enemies later slandered him. One of his earliest works simply titled Poems was financed by his classmates at West Point and includes a page saying, “To the U.S. Corps of Cadets this volume is respectfully dedicated.” He was a pioneer in the science of cryptology and deeply influenced Americas greatest cryptologist Wolf Friedman who broke the Japanese Purple Code and arguably won WW II for the allies. 

Just like us everything Poe wrote was for a reason.  He died in the prime of his life and at the height of his literary prowess after he “was found running down the streets of Baltimore in great distress wearing an unknown man’s clothes and muttering the name Reynolds. He never regained coherence and his last words were “Lord help my poor soul.” The medical records have all been lost, including his death certificate…” (13 )

Those who operate in the stratosphere where Poe played the game, far above the groveling Śūdra and their resentful leering know there is no such thing as reality. It was the first thing one of my mentors taught me. But like with everything else I had to learn the hard way. Everything is fluid, past, present and future. Time itself is nothing but a series of reference points that consciousness, for those who have not mastered chaos, needs to exist. 

In wave physics, which is the only real physics, atoms are a make-believe concept for make-believe scientists, as the careers of Erwin Schrödinger, Jon von Neumann and Hugh Everett III attest to, those that ride the wave like the Silver Surfer of comic book fame must be careful to never fall off. Whether it be because you were drugged as Poe and Nietzsche surely were or because you saw too much of the other denizens of the wave, fall off and your consciousness will be ripped to shreds, just as surely as in an Einsteinean singularity in “a process so violent that it is sometimes referred to as spaghettification or the noodle effect by scientists…” (14)

The ancestors of Europeans before being gelded by Judeo-Christianity were well aware that the wave itself, which they called Ægir corresponding to Water, had a consciousness and through his union with the Air, which they called Ran, whose very name means to plunder, they begat nine daughters called Wave Maidens, all with individual personalities and names. This is analogous with the Sepher Yetzirah and both religions obviously are derived from the same source; Tengrism.

In the Sepher Yetzirah; Binah, which ascending is the Sephiroth before Kether, the Crown of God, is the Eternal Sea. Binah is synonymous with Ægir. In Binah in Assiah, which is the World of Action the physical world, the heaven is called ShBThAI or the Sabbath. As the rabbis say, the Shekinah is the bride of the Sabbath. 

The Shekinah, spelled ShCYNH, is the World Soul which is feminine. No doubt that would have pleased C. G. Jung to no end. And as even the blasphemous Zohar admits in the Lesser Holy Assembly, chapter 21: “with this woman are connected all those things which are below, from her body do they receive their nourishment, and from her do they receive blessing…” 

Where the rabbis have lied, as it seems they always must, is when they teach that it is the Messiahs task to deliver her from exile to the Sabbath. She is in exile in the Sabbath, which is the Heaven of Saturn and the dead, ruled over by Zazel, the most malevolent of all the god entities. That is why Jews shun going out and using electricity on the Sabbath, the idea is to minimize their exposure to him on the day when he is most powerful; Saturday.  

A Sepher Yetzirah properly depicted in accordance with translations done by the Golden Dawn at the turn of the twentieth century. It is one of the very very few on the internet that are even acceptable. I have a hand-drawn one, copied from an early edition of the Golden Dawn by Israel Regardie. Mine does not depict the eleventh sephira; Daath, because at the time it was drawn in 1990, Daath was only theoretical. Tarot attributions are left out as is Ain, Ain Soph and Ain Soph Aur, because at the time I was going with strictly Rabbinical teachings where the three degrees of Ain are never to be discussed and there is no such thing as a Taro, probably a mistake. The Tarot was effectively incorporated by Crowley with his Naples Arrangement and then used brilliantly by Lynch with his semi conscious Agent Cooper (A. C.) as the zero point, God incarnate. I played the Fool –Aleph– myself for a very long time…

The Shekinah is electromagnetism. Ægir and Ran are synonymous with magnetism and electricity respectively and their daughters, the Wave Maidens who each have a consciousness and are here right now, are electromagnetism. It is said that Nikola Tesla who perhaps Understood Electromagnetism better than any man who ever lived said; that to understand the secret of three, six and nine is to understand the secret of the universe. 

Aleister Crowley, who Understood the Qabalah better than any man who ever lived, said of the Sepher Yetzirah: “The first veil of negative existence is the AIN, Ain, Negativity. This word consists of three letters which thus shadow forth the first three Sephiroth or numbers. The second veil is the AIN SVP, the limitless. This title consists of six letters, and shadows forth the idea of the first six Sephiroth or numbers. The third veil is the AIN SVP AVR, Ain Soph Aur, the Limitless Light. This again consists of nine letters, and symbolizes the first nine Sephiroth, but of course in their hidden idea only.” (15) 

Since we are talking about negative existence, counting is done in reverse –nine, six, three, then back to zero, then ten– Kether in turn unfolds to the nine Sephiroth beneath it. Likewise for Malkuth, the physical world, where the nine Sephiroth above it are enfolded and the system resets to zero; it is a closed loop. That is what is meant by the kingdom of heaven is within you, expansion and contraction, microcosm to macrocosm. As is said in the blasphemous Zohar; the living creatures rush forth and return. Or as Crowley says quoting an unknown source “Kether is in Malkuth and Malkuth is in Kether.” (16) Ten is only a theoretical number, that’s why in the Yggdrasil it is said there are nine worlds, the same as in the secret meaning of the Qabalah where “the first Sephira contains nine and produces them in succession…” (17)

Aleph, one of the three mother letters of the Sepher Yetzirah and corresponding to air, the zero card in Crowley’s Naples Arrangement and the Fool which is the first card of his Taro deck and the semi-conscious Agent Cooper in David Lynch’s Twin Peaks 2017, descends to Chokmah which is said to be Wisdom; “a masculine active potency reflected from Kether.” (18 )Kether is connected to Binah by Daleth; a door that in turn is connected to Kether by Beth, a house and in all likelihood the abode of Nephthys the ancient Egyptian goddess of the dead, whose name translates to Lady of the House, completing the triangle of the supernal trinity. Two straight lines “can never enclose a space, and therefore it is powerless till the number 3 forms a triangle.” (19)

As Crowley goes on to say: Binah and Chokmah are “according to the teaching of the Qabalah, equal before God. Woman is equal with man, and certainly not inferior to him, as has been the persistent endeavor of so-called Christians to make her.” (20)

This was the original religion of the Pechenegs, a proud race of nomadic warriors that bowed before no one, not the Khazars, not the Byzantines, not the Turks, not even the mighty Vikings who would crush all the others, leaving only their mangled remnants in their wake. It is an extremely articulate brand of Tengrism, as we all know the Jews are wont to be. The Torah, Talmud and the Tanakh are all rabbinical lies that poisoned an entire world. Lies so effective that as Friedrich Nietzsche notes in On the Genealogy of Morality: A Polemic: “the Jews are the most disastrous people in world history: they have left such a falsified humanity in their wake that even today Christians can think of themselves as anti-Jewish without understanding that they are the ultimate conclusion of Judaism.”

After Tengri himself, who is the Eternal Blue sky and was Nuit in ancient Egypt, arguably the most important God in Tengrism is the Sun. The Pashtuns of Afghanistan, who believe themselves to be a lost tribe of Israel, worshiped a God called Zun, before they were finally forced to accept Islam after centuries of fierce resistance to the poisoned Abrahamic dogma. Many of the Central Asian countries, now Muslim where Tengrism was once practiced, feature the Sun on their flag. 

Of the hidden Himalayan city of Shambhala, searched for by Nicholas Roerich and in all likelihood found by Erich von Drygalski, a story is told. A king ruled over 300,510 followers there whom he wished to convert to Kalachakra or Wheel of Time Buddhism. Twenty thousand of those followers refused, clinging to the ancient way of ‘Surya Samadhi’ or Sun Realization. They told the king “We want to remain true to our Sun-Chariot. We do not wish to give up our belief system to change to another.” (21) The king expelled them from the utopian paradise but when he realized that they were the best of his people and without them nothing got done he had to invite them back…

In Tengrism, the idea is to live an upright life and in doing so, one maintains balance between the three worlds of the World Tree and their own three souls. In the Sepher Yetzirah there are three triads, two others besides the supernal. Below the supernal triad, the Sun or Tiphareth in the middle pillar completes another with Chesed to the right, which is male, and Geburah to the left, which is female. Below that one, the Moon or Yesod completes the last with Netzach to the right, which is male and Hod to the left, which is female; all three funnel down to Malkuth, the World, the Kingdom of the Queen and the living; the Shekinah in exile, a bride without a groom. 

Crowley defines “the qabalistical meaning of the term MThQLA, Metheqia, balance. In each of the three trinities or triads of the Sephiroth is a duad of opposite sexes and a uniting intelligence which is the result. In this, the masculine and feminine potencies are regarded as the two scales of balance, and the uniting of the Sephira as the beam that joins them. Thus, then, the term balance may be said to symbolize the Triune.” (22) 

By dismissing Lilith, whom the Norse called Freyja and the Sumerians Ninlil or  “Lady of the Wind” and pimping her off as the first wife of man, when she is in fact the Shekinah and the reluctant wife of this God but the lawful bride of the Messiah, by equating her with her lowest possible Qabalistic denominator, which is Isheth Zenunim, the bride of Samael who is the equivalent of Satan, by associating Samael the blind and ignorant Demiurge of the Gnostics with the Dragons, who are in fact the Seraphim of Geburah and praetorian guards of all that is Holy in the lower two triads, as the rabbis have done and articulated in their Wikipedia link, imbalance has now been assured…    

She is a Queen without a King, perhaps due to the fact that her King is just so dangerous to all that is, with the power to smash the Tree of Life itself, that no sentient entity that values its own place at the table in this Vampires Banquet wants him here. As certain Qabalists know, like the Sabbatean Frankists, he will only come for her when the World becomes so imbalanced that the Eye of Shiva is opened and the destruction he brings with him will be justified… 

The Norse, who trace their royal linage to Sweden and the Ynglings, demigods descended from Frey the male counterpart of Freyja, have always respected Freyja and treated their woman as separate but equal, trusting them to perform a particularly potent form of Tengri Shamanism practiced by Freyja herself called Seiðr. Through Seiðr they have been granted a vision, which not even God himself can see, of what will happen in the End of Days which they call Ragnarök; the end of the Powers that be. The vision is related in the Völuspá or the Prophecy of the Witch. The Sun and the Moon are devoured by wolves and the Gods slay each other till nothing is left but the witch ends her prophecy with a new and abundant land arising from the sea. And in Heaven: 

“64. More fair than the sun, | a hall I see,
Roofed with gold, | on Gimle it stands;
There shall the righteous | rulers dwell,
And happiness ever | there shall they have.” (23)

There are two more stanzas; 65 and 66, but scholars concur that they are spurious. In the Sepher Yetzirah, the Sun Tiphareth is connected to Kether the Crown of God by Gimil, the Camel which intersects the supernal triad. Gimil is the path that crosses the abyss or the Wasteland of Wagner and can only be crossed in ascension by God and Goddess together. Like the positive and negative charge of electricity, neither amounts to much without the other, as Tesla said the future belongs to alternating currents… 

That is why Crowley, when he performed the Amalantrah Working and brought about the incarnation of the Messiah, needed Roddie Minor, his Scarlet woman whom he called the Camel to cross the Abyss. As Jim Morrison once said “you cannot petition the Lord with prayer,” he had to go to him personally and present his case…  

The sphere that is enclosed in the earliest known Star of David in the Tengri Talisman unearthed in the Eastern Ukraine is the Sun. Since Tiphareth is not part of the supernal triad this cannot happen without the existence of Daath, until recently the much yearned for but only theoretical eleventh Sephira. It is the Messiah of the Jews, not the vile and ignorant savages of the Old Testament that only existed in the demented minds of lice ridden rabbis, but the nomadic warriors who ruled the Asiatic steppes with the courage of lions and the resolve of steel, the real Jews whose only religion is the Sepher Yetzirah. 

Daath “is called the child of Chokmah and Binah, but it hath no place. But it is really the apex of the pyramid of which the three first numbers form the base. 

Now the Tree, or Minutum Mundum, is a Figure in a Plane of a solid Universe. Daath being above the Plane is therefore the Figure of a Force in four Dimensions, and thus it is the Object of Magnum Opus. The three Paths which connect it with the First Trinity are the three lost Letters or Fathers of the Hebrew Alphabet.” (24)

The upper part of Gimil becomes another path and paths must be made to Chokmah and Binah bringing the total of the letters in the Hebrew alphabet, of which Crowley is usually adamant are really Chaldean, to twenty-five instead of twenty-two.   

“In Daath is said to be the Head of the great Serpent Nechesh or Leviathan, called Evil to conceal its Holiness” (24) Nechesh in Hebrew is spelled Nun (50) + Chet (8) + Shin (300) = 358 the same Gematria value as the Redeemer or Messiah which is spelled Mem (40) + Shin (300) + Yod (10) + Chet (8) = 358. Leviathan is spelled Lamed (30) + Vav (6) + Yod (10) + Tav (400) + Nun (50) = 496 the same Gematria value as the Bride Malkuth which is spelled Mem (40) + Lamed (30) + Cheth (20) + Vav (6) + Tav (400) = 496… (25)

“It is identical with the Kundalini of Hindu Philosophy, the Kwan-se-on of the Mongolian Peoples, and means the magical Force in Man, which is the sexual Force applied to the Brain, Heart, and other Organs, and redeemeth him.” (26)

This is why abhorrence of sex is the very cornerstone of Judeo-Christianity, this includes New Testament only types and Gnosticism too, they are both nothing more than a purer brands of Christianity with the desert savage’s ravings removed, at least until they decide to nail the Son of God to a stick. What better way to domesticate an animal than to neuter it? “Lilith is a whore, Ishtar is a whore, Innana is a whore, and they are all unclean.” The Catholic Church has even gone so far as replace the temple prostitutes of Paganism with prepubescent “Altar Boys.” One need only read a newspaper or turn on a TV to see what that has led too. 

The Montauk Project begins with “Wilhelm Reich and the Phoenix Project” (27) Wilhelm Reich was a world famous scientist who worked closely with Sigmund Freud until Freud realized his work was overshadowing his own and viciously turned on him. He discovered a strange new type of energy that is released by human orgasm that permeated the entire physical world which he dubbed Orgone Energy. He invented technology to both collect and harness it which he sold on the open market. For his troubles when he came to America he would be arrested as a Nazi by the FBI. All of his inventions were then hunted down and confiscated, his books sanitized for imbeciles and he would die like a dog in prison just as he had predicted years earlier. 

Recent experiments on prolonged Orgasm in the human female done at Istanbul University in Turkey have shown that it can produce all kinds of strange and wonderful altered states of consciousness; “out of body experience; flying; dying feeling (petit mort); ecstasy; rapture; explosion feeling; quivering, earthquake feeling; flooding; absorbing; spurting; blessed; shuddering; intense love; unreal; surreal; voyage to nature; seeing light flashes, color flashes, geometric shapes, figures; peacefulness; physical and spiritual warmth; loss of control; spreading; flowing; mystical experience…” (28)

When I wrote the opening passage of this essay, taken from my unpublished book Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan, I was still a product of my Judeo-Christian upbringing. Although I’d long ago rejected the dogma I still believed in good and evil. Shortly thereafter in an attempt to publicize the book I began writing under the pen name of Jack Heart; taken from songs by Jim Morrison and Bob Dylan. I bragged to my editor Gordon Duff –ostensibly a well-known rogue political analyst– that I knew more about Magick than any man would ever live to know. That was probably true, but what I didn’t know is there are others here who are not men. They are the ones who feed on the fear and misery of the Human Race, the Gods of Eden first openly spoken of by William Bramley. This world belongs to them, you, you are no better than a chicken on one of Colonel Sanders Chicken Farms, in fact that is exactly how they see you. There is no such thing as good and evil but there is a right and wrong, and that’s just wrong… 

Much nonsense has found its way onto the Internet about the religion of the Norse, as more and more Europeans realize they have been deceived by Judeo-Christianity. The worst of it is that northern Europeans ever believed they were descended from the Æsir, who are called the Asuras in the Vedas, the sister literature of the Eddas. Scandinavians trace their ancestry to the Vanir, nature spirits who waged an apocalyptic war against the Æsir, which ended in an uneasy truce where Freyja and her male counterpart Frey would live amongst the Æsir as royal hostages. 

The Germans, who were the Goths in the Hervarar saga, the saga that fueled the mind of J. R. R. Tolkien author of the Lord of the Rings and father of modern “fantasy,” trace their lineage back to the Jötunn, magical beings, the Giants, so slandered in Genesis and the Norse literature of Marvel Comic Books. In fact, King Heithrek, in all likelihood Henry the Fowler founder of the Holy Roman Empire, calls Odin a contemptible coward and an evil and wretched creature to his face, before drawing Tyrfing the Sword of Destiny and unsuccessfully attempting to kill him with it. Odin true to form flees and has him murdered in the night while he sleeps…

The Æsir, Demons in the Vedas, have pretty much had it all their own way held in check only by the sense of Justice of the three Great Norns who were raised among the Jötunn and the Magick of Útgarða-Loki. But for a long time now Loki, just like Lucifer in Mick Jagger’s homily to him, has been restrained. But the prophecy says when Loki finally slips those bonds which are synonymous with the three nails that bind Christ to the Cross then shall Sīrius known to the Norse as Lokabrenna or Loki’s Torch burn brightly and lead the Dragons of Draco, the Dog soldiers of Sīrius, and all the armies of the dead onto the field of battle against the Æsir. The carnage will be unspeakable, but it is described in the Prophecy of the Witch and elaborated on in the Prose Edda. 

All agree the battle shall finally end when Surtr, the mightiest of all the Jötunn warriors, leads an invincible army called the Sons of Muspelheim from out of the south and onto the battlefield. There he will slay Frey in single combat and in his insatiable rage will cast fire upon the entire Yggdrasil, burning all the worlds except the palace of light somewhere in Gimle. Surtr is invincible because he wields Lǽvateinn, given to him by the enigmatic Sinmara whom many scholars believe to be his wife. It is the only weapon that can slay Víðófnir, the cock that sits crowing atop the Yggdrasil. So dangerous is Lǽvateinn that it is secured by nine locks that all must be opened before Lǽvateinn is free to do its work…  

I knew none of this when I titled my book Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan. Who Understands Aleister Crowley in 777? And that is just the way he wanted it until now. I only knew that the fear of that crowing cock of a Jewish War Gods was palpable, when he asks the question in the Book of Job: “Who is so fierce that they dare to arouse Leviathan, then who is it that is able to stand before me?”

Perhaps she is Sinmara. In truth she has had so many names besides Freyja and Lilith. In the Old World alone there is Isis, Hecate, Diana, Inanna, Sofia, Aradia and the three Mary’s of the New Testament, on and on. Perhaps she describes herself best in The Thunder, Perfect Mind of the Nag Hammadi Tracts or maybe Bob Dylan says it all in Lily, Rosemary And The Jack Of Hearts:

“Lily was a princess she was fair-skinned and precious as a child
She did whatever she had to do she had that certain flash every time she smiled
She’d come away from a broken home had lots of strange affairs
With men in every walk of life which took her everywhere
But she’d never met anyone quite like the Jack of Hearts.”

In Babylon, they called her Ishtar and she was the only one amongst the Gods who ever demonstrated any kind of empathy towards the human race that was not self-serving rhetoric. The Dine tell me that in the language of the Navajo, the most ancient language still spoken in this world, Ishtar is TŁ’iishtsoh and means Big Snake; iish and tar DAH. She told me herself that she is Tiamat incarnate and she is the mother of all Dragons. My reply was “yes but who is the father…” 

I remember meeting that Rabbi from Jews for Jesus maybe somewhere in the summer of 2007. I measured up his yard under the watchful eyes of him and his wife. I knew he was a Rabbi, so I mentioned to him that I was Qabalist. He said to me I was probably too evil to do any work for him, but when I told him my interest was with the Sepher Yetzirah and I rejected just about everything in the Zohar offhand, he lightened up and we began to talk. After a while he invited me into his house and we sat on his couch. He was good and sincere man, I am a streetwise man and I can spot a conman from a mile away. He told me how important he thought it was for Jews and Christians to reach an accord and join hands.

I just looked at him and said as a Rabbi, he must surely know that Jesus could not have been the Messiah, because the Shekinah and all that is is still here. He became greatly troubled and I could see it on his face. He had no answer for me and after a while his wife led him into another room and they began to argue loudly in Yiddish. She kept saying mensch and he kept contradicting her saying Messiah. After a while they came back in and were very cordial. I left and never heard back from them again. I never thought much of it afterwards. At the time, I didn’t understand what they were arguing about. I was still sleep walking, like Agent Cooper in Twin Peaks 2017. Now I Understand… 

She sent me this and it’s only fitting that Mr. Lynch should have the Last Words…

Of Freyja and Lilith, Goddesses and Demons & the Lie of Judeo-Christianity I by Jack Heart & Orage – The Human: Jack Heart, Orage and Friends (


13 – Heart, Jack and Orage. “Ragnarök III Loki’s Revenge II.” Veterans Today. 17 Sep 2018. Web. Sep.

14 – Heart, Jack and Orage. “LUCIFER in the Temple of the Dog II.” Veterans Today. 30 Oct 2016. Web. Apr .

15 – Crowley, Aleister. “Gematria.” 777 And Other Qabalistic Writings of Aleister Crowley. 1973. Weiser. Copyright 1912. Page 6. Print.

16 – Ibid. 

17 – Ibid, page 8. 

18 – Ibid.

19 – Ibid. 

20 – Ibid, 8 – 9.

21 – Das, Sarat Chandra (1882). Contributions to the Religion and History of Tibet, in Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, Vol. LI. Reprint: Manjushri Publishing House, Delhi. 1970, pp. 81–2.

Bernbaum, Edwin “The Way to Shambhala: A Search for the Mythical Kingdom Beyond the Himalayas” 1980 & Albert Grünwedel “Der Weg nach Shambhala” 1915

22 – “Gematria.”

23 – Bellows (Translator), Henry Adams. “Voluspo.” THE POETIC EDDA. PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS: PRINCETON, 1936. Page 25. Web. 

24 – “Gematria. ” p 19. 

25 – Ibid. 

26 – Ibid. 

27 – Nichols, Preston B and Peter Moon. “VII – Wilhelm Reich and the Phoenix Project.” The Montauk Project / Experiments In Time. 1992. 21. Web. 

28 Sayin, Umit. “Altered States of Consciousness Occurring During Expanded Sexual Response In The Human Female: Preliminary .” NeuroQuantology. 9.4 (2011): Web. (PDF) Altered States of Consciousness Occurring During Expanded Sexual Response In The Human Female: Preliminary Definitions (

Illustrations & quotes for educational purposes. © Jack Heart 2019

Below are two links where you can purchase Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan. I would suggest you buy it in hardcopy, not because I make more, I actually make the most from Amazon E books, but because you will avoid giving Amazon any money. Frankly you should be shooting Amazon employees in the street, Google too.

Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan by Jack Heart, Hardcover | Barnes & Noble® ( Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan: Memoir of an awakening god: 9781736288016: Heart, Jack: Books

Of Freyja and Lilith, Goddesses and Demons & the Lie of Judeo-Christianity I by Jack Heart & Orage


– In memorium of unkle Hüker d. April, 20 1945 –

Writer’s note: To the Jews I apologize for my vindictive tone, and I assure you it is directed towards your rabbis and the empire they serve, the ones who have always known they were lying to you and everyone else. Actually, your history is something to be proud of; you are warriors at heart just like the Vikings you fought so well against. That’s why what happens in Israel is what happens, when set loose you quickly revert back to your natural state. We have given you back your penis, use it well… Jack Heart

In the Qabalah, there is no Satan, no king of demons. Asmodeus and Beelzebub are princes, not kings. There are seven princes for the seven palaces of hell. There are no kings. Only God is king. Lilith is the mother and the queen of all demons. The name of her consort; Kebad, has the same numerical value, twenty-six, as God. According to the rules of the Qabalah God and Kebad are the same entities. Lilith herself is rabidly hostile to man. She was Adams first wife but she refused to accept a subservient position to him particularly during intercourse. All Jews put a tiny scroll somewhere in the entrance to their home to keep her out and are implored not to suffer a ‘witch’ to live amongst them. A true witch derives power through the malevolent forces and is a servant of Lilith. The ancient Hebrew sages called them Daughters of the Owl. The owl is the symbol for Lilith. – Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan 

This is as it was understood by me; Jack Heart in 2012. It is an excerpt from the book I wrote that year about my own personal acquaintance with this entity that goes back to 1989. I wrote the book in what I thought was retrospect, but I have since found out that it cannot ever be published because it endangers the very foundations of an empire that is built on lies, the biggest one being the one they, with her blessing, have told about her. 

On page forty at the beginning of Adolf Hitler: The Ultimate Avatar; Miguel Serrano’s sprawling magnum opus on the occult, as We the Master of It Understand, he writes “Like almost all of my generation in Chile and the world I knew nothing of the Jewish Problem. I clarify: my generation, because people older than us did know. The brilliant Nicolas Palacios already published his book “Chilean Race” in 1904, drawing attention to the Jewish danger. He said those who know nothing of this problem cannot know anything of the history of humanity. And he said to appreciate the good and danger of a philosophical or scientific theory one must first ask about the racial origin of its author. If he is a Jew, then this theory must be false and harmful to non-Jews.” 

Last week, Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and the Al-Aqsa Mosque in the Old City of Jerusalem simultaneously burned down to the ground. Churches have been burning all over France and when it can be, it’s being blamed on the very same Muslim refugees who just had their own city of Aleppo burned down to the ground in perhaps the most senseless war in history. But it is only senseless if one does not know that Aleppo, in time out of mind, was called Nephîlā′ and was the catalyst of the Christian, Muslim and Jewish god’s murder of the Nephilim or Watchers children for their father’s audacity in teaching civilization to Man. The Book of Enoch is kept out of the bible, because in it this cowardly god giggles like a schoolgirl in anticipation of drowning the children of the Nephilim. 

At this point, only a moron fed on the fake news of the mainstream media and the gibbering nonsense plastered all over the internet by the world’s “Intelligence” Agencies would not suspect that perhaps the colloquialism; the chickens have come home to roost is in order. There is a war going on here and it has nothing, nothing at all to do with the circus clowns who have been installed in the media as distractions. Think! Do you really think Donald Trump and ilk have launched an interdimensional war? If you do not pay attention and put down that plastic Jesus, get off your knees and burn that foul scroll called a Torah, it is going to end just as badly for you as it is for them, and that would be unfortunate, because most of you have not offended anyone or anything and have been their victims all your lives, but you know what they say about collateral damage being a necessity of war… 

Since the very first article I wrote for Veterans Today went viral back at the end of 2013, I have been closely monitored by the world’s intelligence agencies. They knew who I was before I did. We now have our own entourage of spooks shadowing us night and day; some, those that are traitors to the human race, trying to make things as difficult as possible, leaving fake comments in our comment sections of the Human, many of those comments are splendid examples of minds damaged beyond repair, like the Deros of Richard Sharp Shaver who played too long with technology they did not understand. 

Others that can still write in complete sentences leave pseudo intellectual comments in places where they know I can’t answer them. Others still create distractions in the mainstream media like Trump tweeting about fake news, while his Masters loot what they can from a world they know is going to burn. Just check our page on Veterans Today for a an example of how they have been wiping our posts off the internet, many with over a hundred thousand reads, and without even the benefit of a Madison Avenue publicist. They’re gone, thanks to them, but so is everything you ever really loved, thanks to them. 

But there are others, men and woman from the deepest Blackest Holes of Spookdom. They are the authentic heroes of what is left of a human race largely already consumed by what David Lynch called the Black Fire and Alec Newall of Nexus Magazine the Black Goo. But there are other races here that fire cannot burn and if you are not already a bacterial agglutination, what H. P. Lovecraft dubbed a Shoggoth, a Thing, chances are good you are of one of those different races. These heroes are fighting for all of you, all the races and we are writing only because of them, moved by their magnificent courage. 

Because of who and what I am what we write has launched many an expansive Wikipedia entry. Recently because we and particularly I have written so much on the subject of Lilith, whom I consider to be my lawful wife and by the way prefers to be called Freyja, her entry in Wikipedia has been greatly expanded and another one under the misleading banner of the New World Encyclopedia added. They will not be getting any New Worlds, in fact as Orage has recently stated about their Old World: 

“The 1,000-year deal has expired; it is in post due state. No amount of CPR and transfusions are going to extend it…” 

With over fifty citations for the New World Encyclopedia and close to a hundred for Wikipedia, it all looks quite comprehensive to the casual reader but to anyone who knows anything about the occult, both entries are about as shoddy a pile of soiled toilet paper as has ever attempted to pass itself off as a scholarly work. Considering Wikipedia’s penchant for telling Anne Frank stories that is saying something. Absent in its list of sources are Miguel Serrano, Aleister Crowley, David Lynch, Jack Heart, whom these entries are obviously trying to rebut in the first place and C. G. Jung, whom Serrano, one of the iconic psychologist’s closest friends, speculates may have actually met Lilith. “At the end of his days, Professor Jung coined the term “psychoid” to refer to his Archetypes, wanting to highlight his profound concern for these apparitions, not human nor a mere product of the Unconscious, apparently. Where he showed this doubt most clearly was in the prologue to my book “The Visits of the Queen of Sheba.” He said “known archetypical figures are clearly discernible, but the least similar to the spontaneous products of the Unconscious with which I am familiar…” (1) At the time, they were calling her the Queen of Sheba, but Serrano would later clarify in the Son of the Widower, “Lilith is also the Queen of Sheba” (2)

To Wikipedia’s credit, they do quote Johann Wolfgang (von) Goethe’s Faust: A Tragedy but they also spend an inordinate amount of space on rabbinical literature, the Zohar, perhaps the evilest book ever written, and “Kabbalistic mysticism.” The New World Encyclopedia seems to be at loath to even mention a gentile author, unless quoting Greek mythology, which no less than the greatest scholar of his time Jesuit librarian at Lycée Louis-le-Grand; Jean Hardouin told academia three hundred years ago was all forged. 

There are big problems with using rabbinical sources. First of all, Gershom Scholem aside, I have forgotten more about the Qabalah than any of the New World Encyclopedia or Wikipedia’s menagerie of mange ridden Jewish mutts were and are ever going to know. The rabbi who founded Jews for Jesus, a good man, died a broken man after a conversation he had with me about the Qabalah at his home in Westbury Long Island where I had come to do a landscape estimate, another guy who knew who I was before I did. Most Jews don’t even know how to spell Qabalah. The ones that do, also know they are not supposed to be telling the goyim anything true about it, I believe the Talmud recommends death for such an offense. 

In the Qabalah, every word has a numerical value and when that value is the same as another word, the words are interchangeable, spelling is rule number one, it’s called Gematria. Qabalah is spelled with a Q; Qoph, Beth, Lamed and Heh. There is no other correct way to spell it; any alternative spelling is either a lie or a mistake and either way you as a novice should not be reading another word after it. According to the standard Ben-Yehuda’s pocket English-Hebrew Hebrew-English Dictionary QBLH means “receipt; receiving, reception [remember the giant television screen in Twin Peaks 2017?]; tradition; cabals, mysticism…” The numerical value of QBLH is 137, the same as MTzBH, which means an image or a monument and is used in Genesis 28, 22 when Jacob says, “then this stone, which I have set up for a pillar, shall be God’s house.” This corresponds with the Australian aborigine’s Alcheringa, which is the source of the dream, the source of the transmission for the Holographic Universe we are in…

If you can’t spell Qabalah, there is no way you are qualified to write about it. Let us also dismiss the endless Jewish posturing as the innocent victim when they tell us that she harms their children. It should be remembered that in their Torah and their Talmud they are instructed to bash yours, as a gentile, against rocks, feed them to bears, rape them, enslave them and when they are through having their fun their god will simply drown the rest in his deluge. In the Epic of Gilgamesh, Ishtar (Lilith) in the aftermath of that flood swears eternal vengeance upon Enlil (Yahweh) on her necklace of Lapis Lazuli that controls all the other Djinn for what he has done to her children. It should be taken for granted that goes for all his sycophants and supplicants too…

The fact is the names at the bottom of the Wikipedia and New World Encyclopedia links on Lilith look much like the names on the editorial staff of the New York Times, the Washington Post, the Wall Street Journal and all the rest of the Jewish propaganda rags that have led the human race down the primrose path to a Hell only H. P. Lovecraft could have imagined. Starting with the Old Testament and culminating with the Zohar, which technically cannot be defined as a forgery only because of the “absence of the concept of copyright in any form until modern times,” (3) everything the Jews have ever written about their religion and their history is fraudulent, much of it deliberately so…  

In order to advance whatever agenda is deemed ‘good for the Jews’ at the time, their scholars can, will and always have manufactured “manuscripts, colophons, tomb inscriptions, as well as forged chronicles and “folklore” texts.” (4) Forever, there is the modus operandi of presenting their forgeries as “ancient. The authors created heroic epos (e.g. the Russian historians) or figures of great sages (e.g. the Jewish scholars).” (5) To be fair, the Jews are not the only ones who have falsified history; it’s just that they are better at it than everyone else. 

One of the most prodigious of liars from this tribe of professional liars was the prototype Zionist Avraham Firkowicz (1787 – 1874) whose handiwork in creating an exodus nine hundred years before the Common Era is still cited today as a reason Russians now occupy Palestine. Determined to prove that the Karaite Jews, who only accept the Tanakh –as opposed to Rabbinical Jews, who accept the Torah, Talmud and the Tanakh as authoritative– had been in Russia since time out of mind and therefore not responsible for the crucifixion of plastic Jesusm “he fabricated colophons and falsified tombstone inscriptions.”(6) Like a ghoul in a gothic novel, he haunted Jewish cemeteries in the Crimea changing the Hebrew letters which double as numbers on tombstone inscriptions from Heh to Tav because they look very similar, pushing the dates on them back a thousand years. Conservative estimates are that he changed “the dates of the deaths of many dozens of Crimean Jews from the seventeenth-eighteenth to the seventh to twelfth centuries, which supported his ideas about the Karaite history in the peninsula.” (7)

“Beginning in the 1840s, a number of Russian and Hebrew publications appeared that described Firkovich’s “discoveries,” even though a considerable part of those were forgeries. However, they caused a sensation in the scholarly world, both in Russia and in Europe. Firkovich became well-known in research circles, and the Karaite theme became a topic of general interest and public discussion. He published a number of articles on Karaism in maskilic periodicals such as Hakarmel, Hamaggid, Hamelitz, Hashahar, and Zion as well as in Russian periodicals…” (8)

To Jewish scholars, just like every other history scholar whether they know it or not, history itself is just a tool to establish the desired present. The awful and unspeakable truth to Jews and Christians alike is Jews have always been in Russia, it’s their native land and not one word of those horrible books and scrolls that they live their lives by is true, it’s all been fabricated. The Yiddish, their drooling dogma so dear to the hearts of their homicidally demented Christian brethren was all forced upon them by their rabbis. “Jews in the Middle Ages spoke Slavic languages (this, indeed, has since been proven true)…”(9)

This is the earliest known Star of David; it was unearthed in the Eastern Ukraine. Actually, scholars debate whether it is a Star of David or a Talisman of Tengri shamanism, no doubt fearful of what will happen to their academic careers should they dare say it’s both… 

“Jews” in reality are descendants of the Pechenegs. Hudud al-‘Alam —a late 10th-century Persian geographer— noted that there were two Pecheneg groups. He referred to those who lived along the Donets as “Turkic Pechenegs,” and they are still known today as the Donmeh Turks. Those who lived along the Kuban he referred to as “Khazarian Pechenegs.” They are referred to today as the Ashkenazi. They were once great warriors, pirates, the only ones capable of standing against the Vikings using hit and run guerrilla tactics and building no cities for the Vikings to lay waste to, as they did with the rest of the Khazarian Empire which the Pechenegs were part of. 

They were Nomads, whose only possession was their “felt huts and tents (khargāh va qubba), cattle, and sheep. They wander within the same territory on the grazing grounds situated in the Khazar Mountains. The Khazar slaves brought (uftadh) to the Islamic lands (musalmānī) are mostly from here.” (10) It was they who would defeat the Maygar and drive them West into the land of the Goths. Inbreeding has left them with only their lying tongues as weapons, which as the whole world has found out they can use just effectively as they once used their swords and bows. 

The danger these ruthless and marauding savages posed to those who knew the true history of the human race and were busily carving up the world between them during that tumultuous tenth century is best left to be described by an eyewitness of unimpeachable credentials, an eyewitness born to the Purple.  “The Pechenegs are neighbours to and march with the Russians also, and often, when the two are not at peace with one another, raid Russia, and do her considerable harm and outrage.” (11)  

No one was immune to their depredations. “The tribe of the Turks, too, trembles greatly at and fears the said Pechenegs, because they have often been defeated by them and brought to the verge of complete annihilation. Therefore the Turks always look on the Pechenegs with dread, and are held in check by them.” Even the mighty Vikings were harangued by them when they moved goods for trade with the Middle East down the Dnieper River. For these reasons Constantine “VII” Porphyrogenitus (born to the Purple), the Constantine to which the city of Constantinople was really named after, in his De administrando imperio 1-3, 9 implored his purple born successors to arrange a truce with them. (12)

This was done and they were given the status of overlords among those that didn’t know mans history. The Old Testament was concocted from their legends and the history of a Babylon that existed in time out of mind to give them a more palatable pedigree as god’s chosen people instead of what they really were; the empires chosen pirates. This is why all religions based on the vile child sacrificing murderer, whom of course they strongly identified with and dubbed Abraham are enemies of both the truth and the human race. 

As I have already said and it is attested to by both Russian and Jewish scholars; the original language of the Jews in Russia is Slavic. Yiddish is simply a bastardization perpetrated by Jewish rabbis of the original Babylonian language, now known as Chaldean. I personally know Chaldean far better than the rabbis do, because I do not use the dagesh which they invented. Just like Aleister Crowley who also knew it far better than any rabbi ever did I stick to the consonants as was originally intended, a living language unconfined by mathematical rules and restrictions. It was never meant to be spoken by animals, and in fact sounds just like the grunting of pigs at a barnyard trough when they do speak it. 

Outside of the Sepher Yetzirah which has been copied and elaborated on from the Yggdrasil, everything ever said or written about ancient Jewish history is a lie. The Jews are native to Russia; any pockets of Jews found in the Middle East and Persia are the descendants of slaves. As Hudud al-‘Alam noted a thousand years ago “Khazar slaves brought (uftadh) to the Islamic lands (musalmānī) are mostly from” the Khazarian Pechenegs…

Of Freyja and Lilith, Goddesses and Demons & the Lie of Judeo-Christianity I by Jack Heart & Orage – The Human: Jack Heart, Orage and Friends (

Illustrations & quotes for educational purposes. © Jack Heart 2019


1 – Serrano, Miguel. Adolf Hitler the Ultimate Avatar, page 415-416.Hermitage Helm Corpus, 2014. Web.

2 – Serrano, Miguel “The Son of the Widower,” Page 17, third. Chile: Ediciones La Nueva Edad, 2003. Web.

3 – Akhiezer, Golda (2018) Historical Research and Forgeries in the Age of Nationalism: The Case of the Russian Empire Between Jews and Russians, East European Jewish Affairs, 48:2, 101-117, DOI: 10.1080/13501674.2018.1434980

4 – Ibid.

5 – Ibid. 

6 – Ibid. 

7  Shapira, Dan D. Y. . “On Firkowicz, Forgeries and Forging Jewish Identities.” Manufacturing a Past for the Present.Koninklijke Brill NV, 2015. 165. Print.

8 – Akhiezer: The Case of the Russian Empire Between Jews and Russians, East European Jewish Affairs.

9- Pritsak, Omeljan (1975). “The Pechenegs: A Case of Social and Economic Transformation”. Archivum Eurasiae Medii Aevi. The Peter de Ridder Press. 1: 213. 

10 – “47. Discourse on the Country of the Khazarian Pechenegs.” Hudud al-‘Alam, The Regions of the World V. Minorsky . Web. 

11- “1-3, 9.” Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus, De administrando imperio. Yale, Web. 

12 – Ibid.


Below are two links where you can purchase Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan. I would suggest you buy it in hardcopy, not because I make more, I actually make the most from Amazon E books, but because you will avoid giving Amazon any money. Frankly you should be shooting Amazon employees in the street, Google too.

Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan by Jack Heart, Hardcover | Barnes & Noble® ( Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan: Memoir of an awakening god: 9781736288016: Heart, Jack: Books

Opening the Eye of Shiva

Opening the Eye of Shiva; Twin Peaks 2017

By Jack Heart & Orage
“Your memories. Implants, they’re all implants!” – Deckard to Rachel, in Blade Runner 
They are implants because this is a simulated reality, it’s artificial; its gods are artificial, its past, present, and future are artificial and most of all its pretensions of ever being anything other than it is now are artificial. If you cannot come to grips with that one and only horrendous truth about the “life” you are leading, you are probably wasting both your “time” and money being here. No one’s going to listen to you in this place and nothing’s ever going to change in this place. I think it was that “nun eyed” Jesus, to paraphrase Nietzsche in his poem from Beyond Good and Evil, that first told you the Kingdom of Heaven is within you. That’s just about the only thing she ever got right. As we have already proved to you nine ways to Sunday, much to the consternation of the Djinn, you can see how we went on the burn just by looking at the comment section of our blog; Jesus was and is a woman, sentimental and emphatic to a flaw and utterly devoid of the testosterone necessary to actually take you there. Now I’ve made some mistakes, but that certainly wasn’t one of them, reexamine the evidence for yourself in Aleister Crowley, Loki’s Brood & the Fury of Hell, parts One and Two
The only one who has made no mistakes is David Lynch (and Orage) in Twin Peaks 2017, otherwise known as The Return for reasons that we have already explored. Twin Peaks 2017 is in actuality the “story of the little girl who lived down the lane…” The little girl is Audrey Horne and Twin Peaks 2017 takes place inside her head. Audrey, although one of the most prominent characters in Lynch’s original Twin Peaks, which revolutionized television twenty-five years earlier, is not introduced till the twelfth of eighteen episodes in Twin Peaks 2017. 

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In a surrealistic scene, Audrey Horne argues with her husband Charlie. She wants to go to the Roadhouse to look for her lover Billy, who has been missing for two days, but Charlie complains that he is tired and he has too much paperwork to do. He tells her that Billy is out there somewhere, but he guarantees they won’t find him in the darkness of the new moon. Audrey scoffs at him, asking him if he saw that in his crystal ball. Charlie tells her that she knows he doesn’t have a crystal ball. But strangely enough, there is a crystal ball sitting right in front of him on his desk. Audrey then launches into a tirade, calling Charlie spineless and telling him that’s why she is fucking Billy. She demands that he sign the papers she gave him. Charlie tells her his lawyer has to look at them first. When she threatens to have Paul pay him a visit, Charlie says “don’t be like this. I’m your lawfully wedded husband. I have rights.” She tells him “you gave up those rights.” To which Charlie replies “what? You mean you’d go back on our contract? Renege on a contract?” She says “that’s what I will do. That’s what I’m doing.” 
Charlie then agrees to go with her, but suggests they call Tina first whom Audrey despises, but according to Chuck was the last person to see Billy. Audrey notes that she thinks Chuck is certifiable; corresponding to her son Richie, fathered by Cooper’s evil Doppelgänger and certainly certifiable. Charlie calls Tina and receives some grave news, but blankly refuses to tell Audrey anything about the conversation. From Charlie’s conversation into the antiquated dial phone, we find out that Chuck had stolen Billy’s truck then brought it back, again corresponding to Richie taking a farmers truck with which he ran over and killed a little boy, then brought back. 1 
The substitution of Chuck for the name of one of the Twin Peaks 2017 arch villains, Richie, is what is known in the Norse sagas as a kenning. The scene between Audrey and Charlie, who is representative of the Artificial Intelligence of internet conspiratorial fame, directly precedes a scene in which Dr. Amp, a character who wears rags that are strategically arranged to look like the uniform of an officer in the Nazi’s dreaded SS and brandishes a cheap hammer which is an obvious allusion to the Hammer of Thor, makes a little speech in his pirate radio broadcast; where he has prior promised those he is haranguing “We’re coming for you. Yeah, we’re coming for you!” 2
This time, a slightly more composed Dr. Amp addresses his audience, the inhabitants of Twin Peaks:  “And the fucks are at it again! These giant multi-national corporations are filled with monstrous vermin, poisonous vile murderers. And they eat drink and shit money. They buy our politicians for a song then these fucking politicians sing as we gag and cough, sold down the river to die. Fuck you who betray the people you were elected to help, elected to work to help, to make life better for. Fuck you all in the ass you treasonous puppet’s. The ninth level of hell will welcome you…” 3

In the next scene featuring her, a near hysterical Audrey demands that Charlie tell her what Tina told him. He tells her to “stop it.” She then says “I feel like I’m somewhere else. Have you ever had that feeling Charlie?” He blandly replies “no” and she continues “like I’m somewhere else and like I’m somebody else. Have you ever felt that?” Again Charlie replies “no. I always feel like myself and it may not be the best feeling.” She says “well I’m not sure who I am, but I’m not me.” Charlie says “this is existentialism 101.” Losing her composure, she tells him “oh fuck you. I’m serious. Who am I supposed to trust but myself and I don’t even know who I am. So what the fuck am I supposed to do?” He answers “you’re supposed to go to the Roadhouse and see if Billy is there.” She replies “I guess. Is it far?” Exasperated, Charlie says “c’mon Audrey if I didn’t know better I would swear you were on drugs.” She answers “just where is it?” And he tells her “I’m gonna take you there. Now are you going to stop playing games or do I have to end your story too?” Shaking she says “what story is that Charlie? Is it the story of the little girl who lived down the lane? Is it?” Charlie looks at her stone-faced and says “you’re the one who wanted to go. Now you’re looking like you want to stay.” She says “I want to stay and I want to go. Which will it be Charlie? Hmm? Which one would you be? Charlie, help me. It’s like Ghostwood here.” Charlie just stares at her stoically as she starts to cry. 4 

“Is it the story of the little girl who lived down the lane” will be repeated again by a creature that calls itself Evolution of the Arm and acts as the narratives overlord, right before Cooper the god is reunited with Diane the goddess in the concluding episode. But Lynch has already answered the question earlier while playing the Deputy Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Gordon Cole, when he recounts his Monica Bellucci dream to the other agents. 
Cole tells them “last night I had another Monica Bellucci dream. I was in Paris on a case. Monica called and asked me to meet her at a certain café. She said she had to talk to me. When we met at the café Cooper was there but I couldn’t see his face. Monica was very pleasant she had brought friends. We all had a coffee and then she said the ancient phrase… we are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives inside the dream. I told her I understood. And then she said but who is the dreamer? A very powerful uneasy feeling came over me. Monica looked past me and indicated to me to look back at something that was happening there. I turned and looked. I saw myself. I saw myself from long ago in the old Philadelphia offices listening to Cooper telling me he was worried about a dream he had and that was the day Phillip Jeffries appeared and didn’t appear and while Jeffries was apparently there he raised his arm and pointed it at Cooper and asked me “who do you think that is there?…” Dam I hadn’t remembered that, now this is something really interesting to think about.” Albert says “yes I’m beginning to remember that too.” 5 
Twin Peaks 2017 is a dream, the dream of Audrey Horne. In the original Twin Peaks twenty-five years earlier, Audrey Horne had been the overindulged child of privilege, smitten by Agent Cooper, but never able to actually possess him. At the ending of the early nineties show, she is caught in the bombing of a bank and presumably left in a coma, married forever to the artificial life support system that is keeping her alive. She is the alcheringa, the source of the projection. But she is no ancient of days, no omnificent and omnipresent deity that guides its creation according to a plan to evolve it into the sublime. She is a spoiled rotten and immature child, who has never been given the chance to grow up and perhaps never will be, much like Alessa who is the projector of Silent Hill, a product of the very same entities that brought the world Twin Peaks. This we more than proved in From Silent Hills (P.T.) to Twin Peaks (T.P.) “Fire walk…with me.”
Audrey dreams of the archetypes; Cooper as the messianic savior and the three Goddesses of the Eleusinian mysteries; Sarah Palmer as Demeter, Laura Palmer as Persephone and Diane as Hecate. There is much much more to the story of Twin Peaks 2017, but this is the framework that David Lynch –arguably the greatest artist who ever lived– has chosen to hang his masterpiece on, along with a thinly veiled threat of an impending invasion by an SS that was never defeated in WW II. 
Contrary to the empty prattling of the empires academic sycophants, Adolph Hitler walked away from WW II, as did the entire echelon of the top brass for the SS. The Nazi Bell, repeatedly featured throughout Twin Peaks 2017 and which the Germans were quite confident would win WW II for them, has never been found and the very same Jews, whom the Nazis were attempting to protect this world from, have been allowed to overrun it and tear it to pieces in an endless orgy of greed and avarice.

Audrey’s final appearance in Twin Peaks 2017 occurs at the end of episode 16, when Audrey and Charlie arrive at the Roadhouse and sit at the bar. The MC then introduces “Audrey’s Dance” and the floor clears, as she sinuously performs the dance that is meant to open the Eye of Shiva, the Supreme Being of the Vedic pantheon. According to Vedic tradition, if the Eye of Shiva, the sleeping God, is ever opened and Shiva becomes aware of this world and all the injustices perpetrated in it, he shall destroy it. Suddenly a jealous man bursts across the floor and begins a fight with his rival which threatens to encompass the entire bar. Audrey stops dancing and runs to Charlie, asking him to get her out of there. There is the sound of electricity and she suddenly finds she is in an all white room, with no makeup in a white gown looking into a mirror. The scene then switches back to the Roadhouse which is now calm as the band continues to play, but in reverse… Thus begins the end of Twin Peaks 2017 and the beginning of the events which will span the next two episodes. 

   “The Goddess of Death is as old as the Ancient of Days. Xaljō, the root word of Hell, is a feminine noun. But the days of this timeline may be naught but the product of an Aleister Crowley spell. It was a spell that was cast on the Sleeping Beauty of Germanic folklore. In sleep, a sharp external noise can bring on the most elaborate of dreams, each phantasmagorical scenario built on the last phantasmagorical scenario, all in the seconds before the dreamer awakes. Time means nothing in a dream. There is only here and now, and it’s all retroactive. What’s done today and tomorrow becomes yesterday. It’s been said before: this is the Morning of the Magicians.” –

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Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan: Memoir of an awakening god Paperback – January 5, 2021


1– Lynch, David, and Mark Frost. Twin peaks Season 3, episode 12 (37:00-41:00). Showtime Networks, May 21, 2017.
2 – Ibid, Episode 5, 41:00 -45:00.
3 – Ibid, Episode 12, 35:00-37:00. 
4 – Ibid, Episode 13, 50:00-53:00. 
5 – Ibid, Episode 14, 11:00 -14:00.

Illustrations & quotes for educational purposes. © Jack Heart 2019