Those seeking God will find God. The proclamation is true and rather unfulfilling. More often than not, petitioners must abandon hope and expectations. They must remain satisfied with what they are told they are unable to gain. Such had been the purpose of organized religion upon conception. These power structures had been grown to placate populations and render people docile – inert. These structures still exist and they grant control of multitudes upon a sorted and sometimes undeserved few, despite the “good” purportedly attained for all and the subjected individual.
Yet inevitably, there have been and are always those common subjects whom awake with large appetites. Indeed, some are never lulled into sleep. Those great minds make discoveries and inform the world. In this age, science slowly disinvest the authority of religion but tolerates a god of gaps. These shadows are where prosperity religions and fallacy pray upon the disenfranchised. Anyone still advertising miracles and unrequited love merely dictate their own branded and often copyrighted recourse. Their own transfixed supporters enable these chosen charlatans.
In truth, the only shadow that truly remains is death – or specifically what happens afterward. In this last instance, the ignorant are promised eternity and immortality. Here, theists are made content opposed everyone else still looking for answers. And those whom are godless and yet ask questions often find education. I bolster educating oneself. The only reason there are few exceptional students is there are so few exceptional teachers. Unfortunate for those seeking scapegoats, educators are blameless. As with the great bulk of humanity, they are possibly blinded by socially-condoned maladjustment or circumstance. Each person has only oneself. And in that and by inherent birthright, every human being is full of immense promise and possibility.
Satanism begins with the correct assumption – there is no tangible Creator. Then its practice goes a wrong direction and substitutes its own religion. It is no different than both established and modern-day cults, except in being their identical progenitor. The same is true of ancient and revived, mutant paganism (IE Wicca). As with mainstream religions, these spiritual paths are full of disarming rituals and selfish hedonism. All are distraction against reality. There is no magic. Empowerment in believing so is temporal and fleeting – held at bay with drugs and masturbation in all the incarnations of these two distractions.
The reality is that competent seekers of spirituality find nothing after death because there is nothing. It is a truth denied. Upon death, you’re done. Huge panoramas are painted before this obvious fact. To insist otherwise perpetuates the religiously-manufactured childhood delusion of Santa Claus waiting for every grown, dead child with the big present of eternity. That forever may entail a burning chunk of coal. Sadistic charlatans especially perpetuate that vague myth of Hell. In the course of losing debates, it is the last argument they make after constructing and tearing down straw men throughout narrow, one-sided arguments. Parables of fire and brimstone presages vanquishing more informed foes one ad hominem at a time.
When one dies, there is no more argument. Nothing remains because the only path for each of our minds is oblivion. And how fitting that is the last word. The purpose of life is what one ascribes. And many of the perpetually dying waste the opportunity because each awaits a whole lifetime upon a more ideal existence. Unscrupulous pretenders promise such and are paid for their fallacious conciliation.
Egyptian pharaohs and kings made the right assumption – each individual must ensure his or her own continued existence. How American that concept is! The Confederacy would have thought so – those folks beneath the historic Mason-Dixon line had conscripted Egyptian symbolism opposed to the post-Classical Grecian ornamentation of the Union. And in this Age, we know it is not the body or the soul that can be made eternal. It is memory.
Most people generate families – a husband and wife drop kids into this turbulent and expiring world. And this is a traditional means to ensure one’s continued existence. Not me, I have no children. I have nephews and nieces but am I detached. I can’t know they will remember me. I am insignificant in their worlds and my own is full of monsters and wickedness. These elements shape my passions. At some point, I’m sure they had been fostered to drive people away, but like all living things, they have grown. Knowing such, I don’t extend invitations.
Instead, I attempted to construct my eternal tomb within museums. Then learning the futility of my effort and knowing what remains of my paintings now hang in basements and lie in attics, I stopped creating images. I had never been satisfied with my visual artwork so my preparations ceased with nary a whimper. Yet alive and apparently unready to die, I still willed to impart life into my creations. Arming that compulsion, and upon anthropomorphism, such restlessness became my muse. I write. Although my Pazuzu Trilogy had been quite heinous at birth, the story is my first born. I’ve given it an excess of care and have even sprung the money for ‘special education.’ I refer to the Llumina Press Second Revision publication, but since, my story has outgrown that brace nine times over. It carries my name and I still strive to ensure this child’s immortality. This and my other offspring are my memory. Although, they need readers. Lest, they too will pass with me into nothingness.
Purchase Pazuzu Trilogy Pocket books and Hardcovers at LULU.