Mind’s Quiver
“For us, Satanism is all about the creation of proud, strong, characterful, insightful individuals -individuals who have gone beyond the majority and who thus represent a higher type. Genuine Satanic groups do not seek subservient, decadent, weak-willed followers. They seek to create a real elite -almost a new race of beings. Of course, this is not easy…” - An Introduction To Traditional Satanism, Sacramentum Sinistrum; ONA.
Packed like a quiver. Fast and sharp like an arrow. In my culture Wits is valued above intelligence. I guess the best way to describe the difference between the two would be to retell an actual story of an event that happened once. One time a big rig truck passing underneath a freeway bridge got stuck because the truck was the same height as the overpass, but taller enough where that it was very stuck and couldn’t move even if the driver stepped on the gas. The city first tried to call a tow truck, but that didn’t work. A day later the city collected some intelligent people to solve this problem. All these people had all these ideas, but none of them would work when tried. One person suggested a flame torch be used to cut the entire top portion of the truck off. The city agreed to this idea because it was the most doable. As the city official were getting ready to leave to spend a lot of money on their smart idea a little grade school girl was walking home that day and she had stopped to watch the commotion of adults figuring out how to unstuck a stuck truck. In her grade school ignorance she went up to an adult and said: “Excuse me sir, why don’t you guys just take the air out of the tires?”
Unfortunately for the common person, wits can’t be learned from a book. You are born with the potential for it, which is expressed by the practice of trying to see things in as many different ways as fast as possible. A good example are atoms. Intelligence would be when a person is able to recall from learning that there are hydrogen atoms, oxygen ones, and carbon ones. Your wits part of your braisn kicks in when you can say: “Yes, and if your make a mickey mouse out of hydrogen and two oxygen you get water. If we put a pair of oxygen with carbon we can carbon dioxide, 3 Oxygen atoms makes Ozone, hydrogen and carbon makes hydrocarbon molecules, and so on.” But with this atom analogy we can all say Pshh I knew that. Why did you know that? Because you learned it in school. The question is can you tap into that same part of your brain/Mind and use it on random everyday things to see them in as many ways [perspectives] as possible in as fast as you can? To be able to look at something and be on your toes about it and just flow a stream of insights from what you are looking at? In Buddhism we have the word for Understanding which is Buddhi, and we have a word which describes this Mind’s element of wits or cleverness which is Panya [Pan~n~a]. In Pali and Pali vernaculars that word remains meaning a sly wits or cunning cleverness. In Sanskrit [Prajna] it means Wisdom. But since the Buddha used Pali and forbade his ideas to be morphed via the Sanskrit we should as Theravadins stick with the Pali.
For instance if I gave you the word “Black,” how many different ways can you look at that word where you can give me a stream of insights off the top of your head, just from that one word. That’s Panya. Black is the color of the cosmos. The cosmos is infinitely mysterious. Black is mystery and the unfathomable unknowable. Black absorbs light and transforms it into heat. Black symbolizes the transformation of theory into Fruit. Black is the color of fertile soil. Black is Life. Black from the Old English Root Blac meaning Bright, Shining, Shimmering, Illuminating, a glittering or sparkle. Black in Arabic [Fem/Fam] is also the word for Wisdom and Knowledge. Black is the Ka’aba at the holy city of Mecca. Black is the Qibla. Wisdom is the Qibla and the Ka’aba, the “house” of Allah and the direction our heart’s compass should always point. Black is the vault of Heaven which displays its stellar mysteries at night when mundanes sleep. Only those Awake, when the mundane is asleep, Sees the mystery of Heaven hidden in the Dark.
You take that same element of Mind and do what the Buddha did. Go out into the forest [nature] and read the Book of Nature. Just as Buddha sat down to meditate by a stream and drew up a stream of insights from watching the river, can you use panya to draw up insights from that stream like he did? Because if you can, then you end up with something called Sambuddhi meaning Self-Enlightened or Understanding by one’s Self effort. Because when you or Buddha sits alone at that river, minus all the Vedas and Brahmins, and the people and their beliefs and opinions, and you can draw up from the depth of your own psyche or unconscious, insights unlocked by that river, then who gave you those insights? You yourself. And where did you get those insights from? From Nature Herself directly, the First, Primary/Primal Source.
^^^
-Al-Awrah-
The Catholic Theologian Raimon Panikker said once: “I left Europe as a Christian, I discovered I was a Hindoo, and returned as a Buddhist without ever having ceased to be a Christian.” The older I get, the less conscious chattering I do in mind, and the more I learn to See with the Heart/Chitta, the more I understand what Raimon Panikker was saying. These “outer forms” – whatever they may be – are like wine skins, in which – as the Great Rumi would say – is the same Divine Wine. Many of us young in soul, our eyes get lost in the intricate detailing and designs of such wine skins. Some of us, old in spirit, yearn for the wine within. “And their Hearts are sealed, so that they apprehend not.” – Holy Quran 9:87
Even from something as lifeless as a desert, I can squeeze from it that mystic Wine. The desert is one of the reasons why I have a secret love for Islam. Not really for its superficial mainstream teachings. But for the desert it was born from. For the beauty of the desert, and what I see in that desert. For the beauty of its mysticism.
In such a lifeless place, where even water is scarce, what little water is present, what little life there is, is precious. Not a superficial preciousness, but being someone who lives in such a desert, it is a preciousness that one’s Life depends on, and is indissolubly connected too. What little the desert gives is Heartfully cherished. And in that desert, where there is so little to possess and have, our own people – family, kin – is most precious, in this desert, without whom, we would die. With so little ‘décor’ to dress this desert up, it is our music, singing, dance, our relationships – our culture and tradition – that gives life and dressing to this desert. The lifelessness of the desert causes the few people living in such desert to Need each other. The adversarial essence of Life – this desert – in essence, draws out the precious Nature in each person and drop of water we Need. And so I see the causal universe to also be like a desert. Against the background of a vast lifeless blackness, is an oasis of Life. An oasis in which our many peoples, our many cultures, and traditions colors the world. Anyone who has seen this oasis in its sea of blackness who does not feel within the presence of the Great Creator is truly dead inside and heartblind.
I can never be an atheist or a materialist. But I have no real need anymore to try and convince others to see and feel things as I do. I used to, once, when I was more immature. But now, I understand life to be a big art gallery full of paintings. I once in my immaturity tried hard to make those standing around me see these painting the way I did. But now I’ve learned to just silently appreciate these painting inside myself. And I’ve learned to Listen to others share how they see and feel for these paintings. Then sometimes when I stand in front of these paintings, someone may come by and express as best as they can their inner sight for these paintings, which are my own. In that effortless moment of meeting a kindred soul, there is a genuine appreciation of having met them. You see there is Something present beneath all these painting in this gallery most are blind to, in their fixations within their samsara. In each painting, the Artist silently screams – yearns – to be known, appreciated, adored. And so, beneath each leaf and star, each galaxy and rain drop – each person we are – the Divine Artist screams to be known, appreciated, adored in Its Secret Place.
The distractions and abstractions of this – our urbanize reality – draws our attention away from the silent screams of the Cosmic Artist onto these trinkets of ideas, these lofty theories, these great opinions, the gibbering of the great multitude jabbering about dead men and their dead words they once wrote. And in this prison of dead words, dead men, dead ideas, dead stone, and dead pavement, we say to ourselves: Here in this world we have made, we see no Cosmic Artist or sign of a Divine Essence. For all we see in this world of our own making are our own thoughts and our own reflection. And they – the mundane anariya – call this world of their own thoughts and reflection: reality, and truth. As if to say that the Natural world – the universe – were made of English words and the interpretations of such words we think in.
Show us, they say. If God exists then show us. What does it look like they ask. They look for a look. Like that old saying that goes: “If horses could draw, their gods would look like horses.” Horses searching the world for sign of god, looking for a horse hiding inside the world and sky. Yet these horse brained mundanes still believe themselves to be great and intelligent in their opinion. So they opine. They forget that their own causal existence did not begin with a look or a something showable. It began as the passion between two people. Can you point point a finger at Love and Passion? The world came into being – so said the ancients – when Shiva embraced Shakti, and out of their passion arose the World and Kamadeva. You can’t point to Love or see it. It has no look or form to stare at. But it has an Essence that can be Felt with the Heart, Chitta, the Soul. And we can see it’s byproducts and influence on the World and people. We can’t see the Cosmic Being, and it has no look. But it can be experienced and felt, just like Tao and Wu Wei cannot be seen or understood with the intellect but they can be felt and experienced and we can see the byproduct and influenced they have on the World and on people. If we would just quiet the chattering and reasonings of the conscious mind, and allow ourselves to experience the Numinous – the Sacred/Divine – then the very Formless Essence of the Cosmic Chitta has been felt.
These horse brained dummies being stupid and superficial will ask, well how does passion or love make the universe. That’s an example stupid. An example of an Essence felt which you cannot see but feel like love or hate. You can’t see hate, but you can experience it and see its influence. You can’t see Time either, but we know its there. We can feel it, experience it, and we can see its influence in us and our world. These horse brained anariya being stupid will ask, okay but how does an “essence” such as the Numinous or something sacred create something with substance? How does the formless manifest the form? When these horse brained dummies ask questions what they are saying is they need you to spoon feed them because they can’t figure things out on their own. When they disagree it is most often only because they have a security blanket opinion they can’t let go of out of comfort.
The answer is how does the formless force of attraction manifest Form? By drawing two things together. How does formless temperature manifest a destructive hurricane? By drawing hot and cold air together in certain conditions which produces the spin of air and energy. There is a formless essence unseen in the cosmos which causes things to come together to become form. We call this Creation and being born. There is a formless essence which pulls the form apart back into the formless. We call this deterioration, dilapidation, and aging or Time. The Original state of “Things” is Formlessness, not form. Everything arises from a formless essence, and in “Time” reverts back to that Original State. Tao is not the Original State. Tao moves and flows. Stop Tao from moving and flowing and bring Tao back to its Original state of Rest/Inertia and what do you have? Wu Wei. Tao arises from Wu Wei, meaning “Without-Act/Cause.” The causal universe is not the original state of things. It moves and flows. Stop that movement. Stop every atoms from spinning. Stop the quanta from fluxing. Stop the quarks from flickering. Stop the dance of Shiva and Shakti. Bring everything back to its state of Rest and what you have is the Original State of “Things.” We can closely watch water turn to ice and ice turn back to water and come to realize that something formless called “temperature” is behind the Cause/Act. In the same way is there “Something” unseen – unseeable – within that Restful Chaos which Causes the movement and draws things together if we look hard enough with the “eye” of chitta: our Primal Unconscious, Ayin al-Qalb. [Note: Awrah is sometimes spelled as Owrah. I prefer Al Owrah].
That infinite stillness is like a vast desert of sand dunes at night. Somewhere in that desert is an oasis teaming with Life. You sit there at that oasis and patiently watch. Somehow that little spring of water has the power to draw all that needs it to its wellspring in Time, to drink of it. It is our Thirst – Yearning – which Draws us to the Beloved: the Divine. But shhh: Cast not your pearls before swine.
“He is the real Sadhu, who can reveal the form of the Formless to the vision of these eyes:
Who teaches the simple way of attaining Him, that is other than rites or ceremonies:
Who does not make you close the doors, and hold the rath, and renounce the world:
Who teaches you to be still in the midst of all your activities.
Ever immersed in bliss, having no fear in his mind, he keeps the spirit of union in the midst of all enjoyments.
The infinite dwelling of the Infinity Being is everywhere: in earth, water, sky, and air:
Firm as the thunderbolt, the seat of the seeker is established above the void.
He who is within is without: I see Him and none else.” – Songs of Kabir; LVI, by Rabindranath Tagore
^^^
-Al-Khanzir-
My grandmother does not eat beef due to her ancestral Brahmanist ways. I wondered why cows were sacred to Hindus and Brahminism, so I asked her once why she does not eat cows. My grandmother answered something like: “Just the sentiments of an old woman is all. I was born and raised in a much different country than you grand daughter. Back in the home country of my youth I was raised seeing cattle be put to work hard day and night out in our fields. The hard labour of cows is what tills our land, helps sow our seeds, their fertilizer nurtures our crops, and so the food we ate which in turn gives us Life, came from the hard labour of those cows. In silent appreciation for their hard labour, I don’t eat them. I just don’t have the heart to eat them.”
I have a religious aunt who does not eat all meat. She only eats vegetables. I asked her once why she won’t eat meat, if the Buddha died eating beef that was poisoned. She said something to me like: “That’s the Buddha. I’m me. I once ate meat when I was ignorant of how the meat actually is made in my heart. Then one day I watched a television show which showed animals being killed at a slaughterhouse. I just heard the screaming and stopped eating meat ever since.”
My little mom eats everything. She loves chicken and pork. She was eating meat at the table once and rather enjoying herself and I said: “You know auntie doesn’t eat meat because those poor animals get killed and scream. I can’t imagine what horror and sheer pain the animals you’re eating went through little mom. Don’t you feel bad?” My little mom said, still eating the chicken wing: “Who cares. I need to live, damn! Are you gunna eat that?” But that didn’t satisfy my manipulative nature. So one day I tricked her into watching a documentary on slaughterhouses to watch pigs get processed and scream. I just told her it was for a school report on a documentary we pick and I said that the doc I picked was on the art and science of raising healthy pigs, and that I needed her help. Which wasn’t a lie. I just withheld certain information. So she sat there to watch the doc with me. At first she was comfortable and ready to taking notes. But soon she got very uncomfortable and was watching with her hand covering her mouth and a pillow shielding her solar plexus. That’s an unconscious gesture we do when we are uneasy or afraid or uncomfortable, we cover our solar plexus. Sometimes you’ll cross your arms over your plexus to shield it. At house parties you can pick the boys that feel uneasy in social situations or uneasy around girls by looking for the ones who use their beer cans or bottles to cover their plexus. The boys who are very comfortable with their masculinity and are in their element and looking for girls are the ones who hold their bottles nonchalantly to to the side barely holding it fully exposing their plexus.
So I was feeling happy – in an wicked way – secretly inside as I was watching my little mom show signs of extreme discomfort. Inside my mind I was thinking: “That’ll teach her to eat meat.” There is a part in the doc where they show the worker take a rod and beat the pigs head. The pigs fall and convulse squealing. I myself ate meat. I just wanted to see if I can make her not eat meat. Then when the pigs fall the workers get a chain saw device and cut the pigs’ neck and blood gushes out everywhere on the floor as its legs are still twitching. My little mom wacked my head with a sofa pillow and ran to the restroom and I heard her vomit. She went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water and she walks back in laughing and says to me: “You are evil girl! I’m never eating meat again! I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life!” I gave a loud victorious laugh and was jumping around since I couldn’t contain my sadistic excitement, and she says: “Keep laughing and you’re grounded.” I thought I won, but the very next day she was eating pork. I said: “I thought you said you weren’t gunna eat meat any more?” She goes: “I’m over it. You lose.”
Have you ever heard the expression: “You are what you eat?” It’s actually a very accurate statement on a biological level. What we consume gets broken down into its basic components and via the small intestines these components gets absorbed into your blood stream to be used to assimilate into your body, replenish supplies of vitamins, sugars, and proteins, and so forth. So you what you consume literally becomes you. This is not to say that you transform in nature into a chicken or cow. But it does end up meaning that whatever chemicals and hormones were used in what you ate, gets absorbed by your body. Usually this stuff is stored in your fat layer, and only later in when for some reason your body has to absorb or consume that fat layer do the chemicals begin to effect you.
This was most likely the case with the 1981 break out of the Immuno-Defieniency Syndrome phenomenon. Just one generation [circa 40 years] before this date, it was very popular in the 50′s and 60′s to use a pesticide called DDT at pool parties as mosquito replant. People in positions of “authority” and the companies that made the stuff said that DDT was very save and healthy. Later in the 80′s I think all of these sea gulls became very sick and were laying dud eggs with soft shells. People couldn’t figure out what was going on, until it was learned that the pesticide DDT used in farms had contaminated the blood stream of these birds. DDT was discontinued and coincidentally we start to see the first cases of our human immune system malfunctioning and not even working.
I’m very sure our organic immune system is very sensitive to toxic chemicals of different sorts. In regards to the so called AIDS epidemic in Africa, I’d like to see paperwork and record of every mining operation that took place in Africa by Europeans looking for gold, silver, etc. Mercury is used in such mining. I’d like to know if there is a correlation between what toxic chemicals used in the ravishing of Africa and the so called AIDS pandemic the current people of Africa now suffer from. I’d also like to see all paperwork of the man made chemicals used in pharmaceutical drugs made by these drug companies make and test on Africans. Not many of your average dummie in America and rich countries know that Africa is the world’s guinea pig when it comes to testing out new drugs. Essentially what I am asking is: What’s really killing Africa? Why is this human population is such an acute state of deterioration? Is there a correlation between their high levels of deterioration with the high levels of past and present exploitations of Africa? Don’t give me that fucking AIDS shit and brush everything else under the rug. That slight of hand trick might appease the generic commoner, but it don’t fly with me. You can’t trick a trickster.
As I was researching on orphanages once I stumbled upon a weird case which took place in the 70′s I think. All of these orphans in one city had become sick and were dying. This was dismissed at the time by officials as anything to be alarmed about. But later this sickness spread across the state. It became that orphans across the whole state had caught some disease and where dying in droves. All these officials became alarmed fearing it could be a viral born epidemic that would spread into general population. All these doctors and scientists came out of the woodwork and nodded their heads, waving their authoritative conclusions stating that it was a new Virus infecting orphanages. The officials call all of their smart people to figure out how this Virus spreads so as to keep it from infecting general population. So far, the Virus seemed to only kill orphaned children for some bizarre reason. They figured the Virus was in the food the children were eating or carried in by bugs or mice or pests.
Then one day a nutritionist came out and rejected the story and hysteria of the officials and their scientists. This nutritionist said that it wasn’t a Virus killing these kids but malnutrition. The state went on a war campaign with this blasphemer, then the whole nation teamed up against this nutritionist. They demonized and vilified this person who lost their job. But this person spent several years collecting proof to show that it was not a Virus. Finally after going through hell, this nutritionist proved that it wasn’t a virus. The state changed the diet of the orphanages and gave the children actual healthy food, and the mysterious disease vanished ever since. Naturally this embarrassing incident is not well known. But basically we do become, or are affected by what we consume into ourselves in a very real way.
I stopped eating pig meat several years ago. Not because of any dietary law, but because of – I guess you can say – mystical practice with esoteric or symbolical reasons. As a personal way to show my solidarity to what I believe in. PIG stands for: “People Ignorant of God.” The pig is the living symbol of the Homo Hubris, the Pigman. That stupid generic, all too common breed, of ignorant fools blind to everything but their own reflection and projection of ego.
The Pig represents that breed of White people we call Homo Hubris, who are ignorant of God, who are dead to their Original indigenous roots and culture. Not every White person is a PIG. Just your common generic American who have no roots, folk, culture, and who lack a knowledge, wisdom, and understanding of the Divine Essence in Nature and themselves. It’s skin is Pink. It is Domesticated and breed to be used.
No pink skinned pig exists out in Nature. In nature the animal closest to a domesticated pig is called a Boar. Boars don’t have soft pink hairless skin. They are Black and different shades of Black. Boars have hair, and big sharp tusks. You chase after a pig and they run and squeal in fear. Just like the white devil is fearful of everything it doesn’t understand. In the wild, you run and squeal when a boar chases you with its big tusks. Those wild boars exist in tune to mother nature. In tune to the flow of nature they are a part of. The pig is unnatural. It has been selectively breed in farms for only the use of meat. Those farms have nothing to do with nature. They are man made [selective breeding] and the pig is purposefully bred and domesticated for a reason. Wild boars and wild pigs in nature live together in packs and family groups. Domesticated Pigs are slowly individualized by their farmers and segregated. Wild boars have a nature-born culture and way of life. The domesticated pig’s only way of life is the matrix of its farm. Boars eat living food from nature. Domesticated pigs eat garbage and the leftovers of others. Just like how the white devil kills off Indians, then takes their land and leftover folk culture and ancestral wisdom.
You are what you eat. Remember that shit. When you partake of the PIG nature of these generic White Hubris America Mundanes, their lack of a connection with nature and others, their ignorance and respect of anything sacred, their lack of real ancestral roots, cultures, traditions: you BECOME that PIG you ate. Because you are what you fucking consume! If you consume their pig liberalism, their pig politricks, their pig materialism, their pig world-views, their pig nuclear family structures: You are yourself a PIG, the spawn of a domesticated unnatural creature bred to be used and exploited by their overlords.
And I’m not talking about Europeans, Slavs, and Russians. Those people have their ancient ancestral roots, ancestral cultures, and we know their blood runs deep. We know they each have a history that goes a thousand years in the past. It’s you common white American dumbfucks that are the PIG’s. So don’t try and call me a racist. I am a “Breedist” in the sense that I discriminate against you as a Breed of people.
If I had things my way. Or rather, when I get things my way, this ONA will have nothing to do with you pigs. I will not stoop so low as to be a “peer” with a pig. You pigs have your own pig satanisms to wallow in. Keep your Hurbis asses out of my turf. This ONA is reserved for Noble Folk. Noble Bred. Cultured. With Tradition. Those who conserve their history, ancestral identities, roots, heritage, and who are determined to pass what they conserve to their children. Those who feel the Numinous. Whose Hearts is still living enough to appreciate the Sacred. Those whose roots runs deep into the earth and nature, and whose blood elevates above the generic commoner. Who in their right minds wants to be like these White Hubris American Mundanes? It blows my mind away sometimes thinking about it.
Do your blood and future children, and future civilization a favour and keep them away from this Hubris domesticated breed of humans. Those pigs are the Enemy. They are the fools that get jobs as cops. They are the ones who become the law makers. And we know our “law makers” up in Washington are performing some big Corporate fellatio. But don’t call those guys lobbyists now. According to Gingrich they are now called “Historians,” and “Consultants,” who provide Council. It would be funny if it weren’t unfortunate, that these pigs believes the corporate orgy up in Washington is actual politics. Like those politicians really care about them. These pigs are the ones that become members of pig religions and pig philosophical systems. The ONA Mythos of Vindex remember talks about Vindex coming to war with this Hurbis breed. I’m just helping better identify them by giving them a n easy to remember demonym: PIG. People Ignorant of God. People Ignorant of God-nature. People Ignorant of Godhood. Vindex is our symbol of our disgust for this Hubris breed and their Magian overlords.
Mark my words: You cannot trust the Word/Wyrd of a person who has no feel for, appreciation of, respect or honour for The Sacred or Divine or Numinous. Because these people only trust and venerate their own egos. And we know the ego changes as it ages and changes with the passing of opinions and ideations. These pigs cannot be ever trusted when they give an oath, a vow, or a promise. They may mean it in that moment, but as soon as their all important ego changes, they will turn against you.
In my culture the old people tell us that you cannot ever trust a person who has no parents, or who was raised without family. Because in their adult years, because they have never known familial life, familial need, familial cooperation, they will turn on you. You make friends with these cultureless and famililess people and they will one day turn on you, because they do not know what a folk or family, or comrade is. You marry one of these prets [pretas] and they will step on you and turn against you because it is not in their inner nature to know you – empath you – as their folk, kin, blood comrade, brother, sister, family. These illbred Hubris pig can’t even get along with their own mothers and brothers let alone dedicate their lives to them. They live only for themselves. You put such a breed of people in a government and ask yourself what kind of politicians you will have. You put this rootless pigs in priesthood of religions and ask yourself what you will have? Kids getting raped. They don’t care if those kids are yours. They don’t “know” you. It’s not in their nature to “know” you as their kin. They owe nothing to you. They will turn on you. They are pigs.
They will turn on your religious institutions. You have but to look at something Satanism as a new social phenomenon that emerged during the 60′s and 70′s as a coherent mememplex. In the beginning were three institutions: the Church of Satan, the ONA, and the Temple of Set. Each of these three codified institutions have their own well constructed form of Satanism. Each new member of these three institutions adopted what has been established. There is thus a Conservative nature to these three institutions.
Then you get the common deadhead pigs infiltrating Satanism. And what do we see? We see a gradual decomposition – as in a body decomposing – of the Conservative Satanism Memeplex. We see every dumfuck pig start up his own satanic church, name himself his own high priest, go off on retarded tangents and develop his own “true” satanism. And 50 years later you take a look around this subculture of Satanism and you see the majority are the liberal – not belonging to a conservative social order – modern and theistic satanists who each can’t agree on what satanism is any more because they each insist and demand that their own individual opinions, thoughts, and definitions is the true and glorious one. These pigs will not only turn on you, they will turn on your religions by fucking them up. Don’t believe me? Take 10 theistic satanists and ask them to teach you about their satanism. You will get 10 very fucked up and retarded satanisms.
Don’t eat “PIG.” Don’t consume their Hubris Nature. Don’t partake of their Hubris ways of life. Don’t consume their Hubris abstractions. Stay away from these pig, and keep them out of what you uphold to be valuable. Cast not your pearls before swine. Keep them out of ONA and in their pig pens. Let’s at least try to keep the ONA unsoiled by their shit. And again when I say PIG I mean specifically the White Hubris American Mundane, the Homo Hubris, bred and domesticated in America who are under the spiritual or psychological control of what we call Magian Ethos. Those are our Enemies. They are the ones that animates and give life to the Nation-State, to religion, pedo-priesthoods, to generic common mentality and outlook. If we don’t learn to keep our children away from this despicable breed, our children will become one of them.
I know there are a lot of illiterate people out there who will misunderstand what I have said and get upset. By illiterate I mean just because you can sound out words spelled on a screen or book does not mean you comprehend what you are reading. You are hence illiterate. For instance I can perfectly read Greek letters and make the sounds, but I don’t know what the hell I’m reading. I can perfectly read and write with the Russian alphabets, but I don’t know don’t know shit about the words and sounds I am saying. So I know many of you will get upset. Just know that if you are Noble – Arya/Ariya – whose roots runs deep, then regardless of skin color, we’re kinfolk. More realistically then you might think.
One out of ever 200 people on earth are genetically related to Genghis Khan. Do the Math. He was around in the 1300′s. That’s 900 years ago, and 1 out of every 200 humans on earth are his spawn. How many emperors, empresses, kings, queens, and noble blooded people before Genghis Khan have existed and for how many centuries back in history? I don’t know how the Sanskrit people interpret their word “Arya,” but I can say with a certain amount of confidence that the Pali word “Ariya” properly translated should be “Aristocratic,” meaning Noble, Civilized, Cultured. Anariya means “Common,” “Peasant,” and “Barbarian.” Unfortunately over the centuries those words have been clouded by spiritualists. But all you have to do is go trace these two words and their meaning back to a nonsectarian relative of Pali and Sanskrit like Iranian and you’ll get the same basic meaning.
What do you think the actual root in the name Iran is? Iran is the ancient foundation of the ancient Babylonian and Persian empires. It’s a place of great kings and human history influenced by the Noble Blooded. Alexander the Great was connected to this civilization back in the day. If Aryan to you means White, then be proud of that shit and your ancestry. If Ariya to you [and me] means Noble and Aristocratic then be proud of that shit. Just don’t consider those common generics to be your peers. Otherwise you stoop down to their level. The opinions and thought of one common mundane anariya should be completely meaning less to an arya/ariya bred person. You are above them, not on the level with them. They’re not our peers. They are peasants, with the mentality and brain capacity of a common peasant. Is that your peer? Are you saying the ideas, thoughts, and opinions of a common peasant affects you and influences you? What does that say about you? One king is above the millions of his kingdom’s citizenry and their thoughts and opinions. And you allow one single peasant to affect and influence you? Thank about it.
^^^
-Al-Ikhwaan-
I heard a story once in Khmer that went: there was a time when the God Shiva had taken the form of a hermit living on the top of a mountain. In Khmerized Pali these wild hermits or ascetics are sacred and are called Isa, pronounced as “Eysey,” the -ey sounding like it does in the word “They.”
As time past rumor had spread in the local village at the foot of the mountain that this wild man was the Lord Shiva. And so three men set out to climb the mountain to learn the divine wisdom of the universe from the wild ascetic.
The first man one day makes it up to the peek and prostrates himself before the unkempt hermit and said: “Old man, rumor has it that you are Lord Shiva. I’ve come to be your student. Go ahead and teach me, if your are Lord Shiva. Let’s see what you got.”
The old man said: “You see that cliff over there? Jump off it and kill yourself.”
The first man laughed at the old man and left the mountain to return home calling the ascetic a crazy fool.
One day the second man climbs up to the peek of the mountain and prostrates himself before the old man and says: “Old man, I hear from the local villagers that you are Lord Shiva. Please accept me as your student and enlighten me. I will venerate you as my guru and God.”
The old man said: “You see that cliff over there? Jump off it and kill yourself.”
The second man believing it was a test did not jump off the cliff and had the resolve to stay by the old man’s side for a year. Until one day after the year of worship, the second man said to the old man: “I’ve been by your side for 1 whole years worshiping you as God Shiva and serving you. And you’ve given me nothing! I wasted my time with you old fool!” He walks away angry.
One day the third man came up to the top of the mountain and prostrated himself before the old man and said: “Old man, the people below say that you are Lord Shiva. I want to be your student. Please teach me.”
The old man said: “You see that cliff over there? Jump off it and kill yourself.”
The third man got up and walked to the edge of the cliff, said to the old man: “In my next life, I will come back and ask you again, and again, and again.” And he jumped off.
As soon as the man jumped the old man transformed into Shiva and caught him in the air, bringing him back to the top of the mountain. Grateful for being saved from death the third man prostrates himself. The Lord Shiva said to the man: “Sit with me. I’ll teach you.” The End.
Traffic
I was thinking about this story because a couple days ago I re-watched a movie called Traffic. It’s an old movie about a Mexican drug cartel based in Tijuana. The two important guys in the movie were these two petty cops, a short one and a tall one. I can’t remember their names.
The movie starts off with the two of them waiting in the Mexican desert. Soon a big truck drives by and the two cops stops the truck. They make the peasant looking drivers open the back of the truck and bricks of cocain are discovered. The two cops puts the drovers into their car.
All of a sudden these black SUV drives up to them and the Mexican army comes out of the black SUV’s and hold the two cops at gun point. They said that they would take care of the truck from there. This one old General comes up to the tall cop who was driving and asked him questions about how a petty local cop knew about the truck. The tall cop said a bird told him.
I really like the old General. The movie was about the tall cop gradually being drawn into the criminal underworld, and the General was manipulating him into it, at first to use him for little jobs. To gain a trust for him. The tall cop does his small jobs with his friend the short cop.
At the end of the movie the short cop thinks suggests to his tall partner that they can make a lot of money selling the information they knew to the DEA in America who wants to stop this cartel. The tall guy stops his car and looks at his friend in the eye and says that they are not going to say anything to anybody. Nothing else was said, but you can feel the tall guy said that out of a real concern for both of their lives.
Unfortunately the short guy crossed the boarder to go tell. The General’s men catches him in America before he rats and throws him in their car to drive them him back to Mexico to kill him. In the car with him was his partner the tall cop, who was handcuffed to the car like his short and dumb friend. Both of them were going to be killed for snitching.
In the Mexican desert the two bad guys at gun point make the two cops dig their own graves. When the graves were dug the two cops were told to turn around, so they both turned around. The two bad guys each stood behind each of the cops and points their guns at their heads. The trigger was pulled and the short one falls in his grave while the tall one was held in a bear hold as the guy holding him said: “It’s over Javi [that's his name!], it’s over.” In the car Javi was silent, guess he felt bad for his best friend. The two bad guys told him: “We went through the same thing. It’s how the old man [the General] works. We had to put you through it to see if we can trust you. Now we trust you. From now on, we’re Family.”
Brainstorm
I was jogging in the afternoon a day after I watched the movie. There’s a place by my house where there is a giant park with these sidewalks and jog ways and horse trails canopied with big Eucalyptus trees all around. It’s a cool and beautiful place to jog.
I do my business thinking when I jog around this place several rounds. So as I was jogging I was thinking about the internet and the cyber medium.
I had read an article by an scientist who said that he was concerned with how we were transferring all of our data from paper onto things like email, e-books, and storing our stuff on computers. The scientist said that this medium does not last long like paper does and he warns that as a civilization we can’t become to dependent on unloading all of our information into such a ephemeral medium.
I was thinking about the internet and what I remember of this scientists warning because I was trying to figure out a better way of storing the ONA for a future people and future time.
I found the internet in 2004 which was when I was on Myspace. Since then I have seen literally dozens of these Satanist “organizations” set themselves up on Myspace or some other website. They huff and puff for a year or two. Then poof, they vanish off the face of the earth. Many of these internet groups leave their writings behind, but these writings are forgotten. And they all leave cyberspace without out ever leaving a substantial mark in the real world, or in the minds of people. Most of us can’t even name 3 of such dead organizations.
I have all of these USB flash drives which I use to archive every ONA thing I can find. But after researching I learn that these flash drives only last for ten years and/or 1000 insertions before they must be replaced.
As I was jogging I was trying to brainstorm of other mediums I can use that lasted longer. Paper based books I thought. Nah. Books get lost and damaged. They won’t serve my aeonic purpose. Not in the time span I am thinking of. I can risk having books lost or water damaged.
So I asked myself how the ancients did this? I have my native Buddhism to give me an answer. Theravada Buddhism has been around for 2,500 years and the bulk of the entire tradition is past down orally. Every so often all of these very old monks from different sanghas around the Theravada world meet up at different Wats and they lock themselves up for weeks. You know what they do for the week? The monks by memory recite orally the entire Tipitaka together: all 25,000 pages worth while secretaries write down each word to compile a “new” agreed upon version of the Tipitaka. This makes it so that each of the Theras [Elder Monks] leaves to their respective countries with the same Tipitaka in Pali. If at such recital meeting the different sanghas have different wordings or such the Theras go around the group to figure out how to correct the difference. The point to all this is that the written text itself is not the authoritative foundation that dictates what the Theras should teach. It is the other way around. It is what the Theras as a collective [sangha] Remember out of their Mind that dictates what will be written in the new set of volumes of the Tipitaka [40 volumes currently]. Once the new set of volumes is done, the old set is discarded. This is a little aspect of Southeast Asian Buddhism that is not really known about in the West.
This naturally got me to think about the much older oral tradition of the Vedas. Circa 5000 years old! The aural tradition goes way before it was ever written down even. And incredibly that entire massive memeplex has been able to survive to this day.
I was thinking to myself how funny and pretentious it was for these satanists in the West to talk shit about something like Brahmanism [Hinduism] which has been around for 5000 years and manifested entire civilizations, and we have these punk satanists in the West with their websites and cyber cults only last huffing and puffing for a year?! As a Buddhist I am taught to judge the Fruit or End Result and not what is said or done. We can talk shit all day huffing and puffing, and many of us can try to do shit [action/kammanta], but few ever manifest the Fruit to show and prove their shit. Whatever Brahmanism and Buddhism has been doing has proven itself to work.
In that respect, I’d rather have the ONA follow the example of what has been proven to work by the Fruit/Vipaka. Fuck the words, ideas, and deeds.
So I’m thinking to myself: “Okay. What do I have to do here? First let me break this down into bite sizes and figure out what exact is happening or going on.” What is actually being passed from Brahmin to Brahmin or Thera to Thera.
What’s going on is something called a “memeplex” is being passed from brain to brain. Whats a memeplex? A complex of memes. A meme is the Idea of a “Pine Tree” for example. By itself, that Pine Tree meme lacks the ability to travel or stick in the mind. Memes needs traveling companions. You peg that Pine Tree meme with other memes like Decoration, Presents, a feast, peg all of it to a season, and add the Christmas Carol meme to that and you have a Memeplex which has been observed from generation to generation since the Roman Saturnalias. The more buddies a meme has, the better it is able to spread and stick in the mind. But we look at the more successful thousand year old memeplexs and we see that there are tricks to the trade. Some Idea-memes are often pegged to real world things such as seasons, objects, rites, etc. And example would be to take the “Superiority” meme. By itself it lacks the power to influence and spread. It’s just an idea. Peg that same idea to a Skin Color, and what do you have?
So the answer I got was to pass the ONA down as a memeplex, but to over time make sure this ONA memeplex is constructed right where many of the idea-memes are pegged to real world things, to rites, rituals, chants, anything that is tangible and real. The second thing I figure I’d need are the right kind of people.
I was jogging around thinking to myself how I will find people to pass this memeplex. I can do it like how Jesus said: cast them like a farmer casting seeds. If one person is fertile the seed will germinate. But after thinking about this I figured this was an nonconstructive idea aeonically, because we would be investing in chance. Jesus gave me my second option. I remember once in the Bible Jesus had told Peter out in the desert that he [Jesus] will teach Peter how to be a “Fisher of men.” I remember watching a Jesus movie I liked. I think it was the Last Temptation or something. I remember watching Jesus sit from a distance just observing and watching Peter cast his net for awhile. Almost as if to study Peter to see if Peter [or whoever it was] had what it took.
This idea of being a Fisher of Men caused me to ask how would I fish for the right kind of person I need? I don’t want any person curious in ONA to come ask me to give them ONA. I can’t rely on that. I need someone or a few someones, who has what it takes to carry ONA for a full generation and pass this ONA memeplex down. How do I find these right types? First of all what type am I looking for? I’m looking for someone like myself. This is because being me, I know myself better than any other person. And personally I know I can keep up the Anton Long relay race for as long as I can.
So this was when everything all fell into place in my head. I suddenly remembered the movie Traffic I had watched the other day, where Javi was manipulated, used, put to work, and tested to see if he had what it took to be Family. This got me to remember the Shiva story.
In the Shiva story the second guy was dedicated and wanted to be Shiva’s student enough where he dedicated 1 years to worshiping the old ascetic. But that wasn’t enough. I can’t rely on someone just dedicated. I need to find a Protege, someone with the same nature as me. And the only way to do this is by putting the person through tests.
Testing People
There’s this zen story which is often told regarding this subject. One day as a monk was bathing in a lake a guy walks by and seeing the monk went into the lake and said to the monk: “Teacher, I seek enlightenment, please teach me what you know, I’ll be your student.”
The monk says: “Go away. You’re bothering me.”
Thinking this was a test the man decided to show he can hang around and wait patiently.
The monk turns around, grabs the guy’s head, and sits on it trying to drown the guy. The guy struggles to break free to get air. When he finally breaks free he says: “You crazy fool! I humbled myself and was willing to make you my teacher and you try to kill me.”
And the monk said: “Unless you desire enlightenment as much as you desired air in that water, you will never get it. Thus, you are wasting my time. Go away.”
The first person to teach me and show me things about testing people was a man and friend of the family named Gino. I met Gino back when I was still in high school over at a business a grandfather of mine owned with his partners. The business was a plant that made polyurethane wood. I sometimes was put to work at the front desk during summer break or the weekends. The actual business itself was divided into two different buildings. The office where me, grandpa and the partners were at, and across the street [cul de sac] out of the office window can be seen the Plant half of the business which was a place I wasn’t allowed to go to since it had all of these toxic chemicals and forklifts, etc.
Gino was half Italian and half Scottish, and he spoke with a Scottish accent, from that one city, what’s it called, Glasscow. The 4 partners were two older aged White Americans, my grandpa [great uncle] who is Thai, and then Ted the chief engineer who was a very gentle and laid back older Englishman with white hair. In the past Ted used to go around different countries and help them build nuclear plants. He retired and had the idea of making faux wood which he encountered during his travels in Japan where there is a huge market for that stuff. So he collected his old engineering friends together to see if they were interested in trying to get this idea going. Unfortunately the idea proved over the years to be a great cause of huge debt for everybody. After 4 years, when the plant finally learned to make the faux wood, it was sold to investors in Wisconsin in haste to paid for the giant debt. In the end everybody involved barely broke out even, making just enough money to buy a house. There was a time when all sorts of debt collectors and companies were calling the front desk and threatening me with law suits if “we” did not pay. I had to remind these caller that I was just a desk person.
Before Gino was hired to manage and over see the plant he once worked at the docks as a supervisor. He got fired for being verbally abusive to the employees and slave driving them. The union pulled strings and he got fired, and his past work experience got him hired at the plant. He had this constant habit of chewing on pens all day.
My “boss” was a friend of Ted’s named Dave. Dave was a man in his 40′s and was also English with an English accent. Neither of us were really on the pay roll since we were just volunteering for friends and family. Dave’s job was to actually oversee the office stuff, take care of bills, place order, etc. I was talking to Dave once about Gino and how odd I thought it was for a Scottish person to have an Italian name. Dave goes: “Oh Gino’s half Italian. His grandfather was an immigrant to Scotland, in the textile business. His mother is Scottish.” I said back: “Oh, I didn’t know that. I wonder what his mother looks like? You think she’s a pretty red head?” Dave replies to me something like: “Well, guess you haven’t ever been to Scotland, otherwise you wouldn’t be asking that question,” he laughed and continued saying: “Let’s just say his Scottish mother looks like him with long hair.” I laughed. I thought it was funny, but guess you had to be there.
To help with production Gino hired “temp workers” who are the Mexicans you see outside of Home Depot waiting around for work. So every morning Gino comes to work with a car full of the days “employees.” The plant at the time wasn’t making any money yet to pay real employees. Everyone not a temp worker were just friends and family who literally volunteered time to whatever pay we got, if we did. Just to help out. Sometimes we were given stocks of the worthless company in lieu of pay.
From time to time from our office side me and Dave – since we really didn’t have real work to do – just watched the other side. Often we’d see a couple of the Mexican labourers walk out deserting their post and job angry saying things like “pinche cabron,” and “pinche gringo!” Dave was the gossipy and nosy character of person. He has his head out the window and speculates over every little thing that happens on the other side of the street at the plant, and own the street in the other places. When the Mexicans walk out Dave would look out the window with a curious and nosy look and say to me or himself: “What the – are those Mexicans deserting their post? What did Gino do this time? Do you understand what they’re saying Chloe?” I’d say: “Yeah, they’re cussing Gino out. I’d rather not repeat what they said if you don’t mind.” And Dave was a loud mouth and tattle tail. He’d run off to Ted and tell Ted Gino caused the Mexican’s to walk out. But Ted was so laid back he never really cared, just said: “Oh dear, looks like you’ll have to go over there and help out or get more labourers?” Ted pays the temp workers out of his own pocket, for all four years.
So Dave would reluctantly cross the street to go help out. Gino comes to the office frequently to tell Ted and the others important information while the plant is running and going good. Usually when the “employees” abandon ship Gino comes across the street chewing his pen with a guilty grin on his face to report to Ted that the Mexicans walked out and he needs replacements. Ted will always say in his laid back manner: “Let me see if I have the cash to pay them.” Usually Gino will hang around the desk and small talk with us. That’s when out of curiosity I ask Gino things and he’d teach me.
At first I just asked him why the Mexicans walked out and Gino will say with his guilty grin in an almost shy manner: “They just couldn’t take the heat, to hell with them, pardon my language.”
After I got to know Gino over the years of volunteer work he opened up and became a friend and my first source of influence. He’d often give me advice like a father would give a daughter or uncle to a niece. There was one time when he was giving me advice which I remember and apply to this day, where he said something like: “You gotta test these blokes. You’ll never know who and how a person really in inside if your just going off of how they are when they are comfortable and normal. If you ever think about getting serious with a boyfriend for instance, you have to test them for their character and fortitude as a man. Don’t ever go into anything blindly. Know what you’re dealing with first. Remember that, it’ll save you a lot of trouble and heartache.” So I asked him how to test people.
Gino said something like: “You put them into three situations and watch them carefully. Watch how they act, react, and how they treat you and others in those three situation. First situation: you get them piss drunk, but you don’t do any drinking yourself! You need to watch how they are piss drunk, what they say, where their eyes move. Do you want a boyfriend whose eyes wanders when he’d drunk? Second situation: make them seriously angry. Push them so that they become genuinely angry. I mean angry. Then watch how they act, react, and how they talk to you and treat you and others. Do you want a man who beat you or your children when they are extremely angry? Do you want a worker who walks away from his duties when he is extremely mad? Third and most important situation: Break them. Snap them like a twig.”
I asked: “What do you mean snap them?” And he said: “Push them to the breaking point. Stress them out. Apply so much pressure on them that they snap. Then you observe what type of person they are under pressure. Under extreme stress. Can they maintain themselves and still be intelligent and functional? Or do they turn into cry babies and dysfunctional gibbering idiots? You’ll grow up to realize Chloe that life isn’t easy. It’s stressful and takes us all to a breaking point. You’ll learn to know that people who are sweet in words and deed when they are comfortable and normal, turn into abusive monsters under pressure. The question is do you learn now, or when it’s too late? The best type of person to associate in any way with are the type that is true to their nature in and out of high stress, extreme emotional states, and so on. If they still love you. Or if they still are with it. Can they take the heat? Do you want to build a life or company on the reliance of people who break easy and are only superficially intelligent and superficially functional? Wimps. Too bad America is too liberal in the work place these days.”
Nothing Gino taught me that day really sank in my mind back then. It wasn’t until much later when I was out of high school, living with friends at dorms during our college years that I began to realize the essence of what Gino had once said personally and directly, with me on the receiving end of being tested and tried.
Me and my friends and cousins got real jobs together at a Target by the campus to make extra spending and party money. When we first got hired there was a transition of regimes over at the target by the campus. The previous store manager had been recently fired and we started our first few days hearing rumors about the new boss the district was going to install. The potential new boss was once an executive at the store named Edward [Ed]. I heard stories from my new friends at work that Ed was known to have a short fuse and he yells profanities and throws merchandise across the store when he’s angry.
In my head as I was hearing about the Dread Ed, I was thinking to very young and immature 18 year old self: “Awe fuck. If this Ed guy even talks to with an improper tone, I’ll walk out, I don’t even need this job. I’m not taking his shit. I have rights!” He did get hired as the new Boss. Ed was very tall, very handsome, in his late 40′s at the time. He sounded like he was from the east cost, talked with a deep and very clear and audible voice. He had a natural demeanor of command and authority and confidence in the way he walked, talked, and carried himself. My first impression of him was that to me he was like a cross between a mobster and a politician. He went around introducing himself to everybody one by one during his first week, shaking our hand and saying: “Ed. Pleased to meet you,” to the faces he didn’t recognize. He’d joke around and tease the people he knew from his previous time at the store.
I used to like watching Ed work his status charm in the store social order those days. When he’s happy and in a good mood you can see Ed just joke around with everybody. Usually you see him teasing the men in the store in a light hearted way. It’s a subtle establishment of status position anthropologically. Usually the one that is dominant or trying to establish a dominant social position does the teasing, and the recipient of the teasing is socially the subordinate. You can see this behavourism acted out in high school where the popular kids will pick on nerds and geeks. But also in their cliques you see one doing the teasing of his friends and the friends taking the tease, laughing and shoots a tease back. Then the teaser pats his friend on the back and usually says: “I’m just messin with ya.” The one doing the teasing is the dominant person in the clique. The patting on the back is a social reassurance that they are still buddies as long as everyone knows their place. At the store you’ll see the men familiar with Ed throw in or initiate a jab or tease Ed, they usually pat Ed on the shoulder right after, and usually Ed turns the situation around and teases them back good. When he was happy he was always formal and respectful with every female in the store. He called us all “Ladies.” Usually he’ll do his stops and say: “Evening ladies. Anything I should know about while I’m here?” Then he’ll do his small talk, comment on our look and hair, and then leave. He never teases a female. When Ed was angry he transformed into a totally different person. His nickname in the store was the “Transformer,” because if this.
Our shift was the grave yard, so that way we had the day for either school or to hang out. So Ed’s usual shift was when the store was closed to the public. After Ed had settled in and established himself, one night we saw Ed do his famous transformation way in the back by the toys department. Me and some of my friends were on he Planogram team which was different from the stock team which unloads the truck and stocks the stuff.
I was in the middle of the store with my team when I heard things crashing loudly over in the toys department. Thinking something big fell, my team walked over there to investigate. Before we got there we heard Ed screaming at the top of his lungs: “Shit! What is this shit!? What the fuck is everybody doing!? Aren’t you supposed to be working!?” After hearing this, we just turned around real fast and went back to our place to do our work hoping Ed won’t stop by. You can hear things being thrown across the aisle and breaking.
At the time me and my work partner Lisa were helping each other on my aisle since I was still knew. Our job was to totally dismantle an entire aisle, reconstruct the shelves and put up all new items or rearrange the items according to these blueprints they give us. This usually takes all day to destock the aisle, dismantle it, put up new wallpaper and pegs, pull our items and stock it. Lisa was put in the same aisle as me so she can help train me. That night when Ed blew a fuse, Lisa had left her aisle just behind me to help me with my aisle. Usually it’s one person per aisle side. She was doing something while I was banging the prong of a shelve loudly to get it to go into the hole things in the aisle. Just as I stuck the shelf in place and proud of my accomplishment Ed walked by our aisle. I guess he was wondering what the loud banging was.
Ed stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me and Lisa working on the same aisle together. I feared for my life as I was standing there looking at him looking at me with a little hammer in my hand. In my mind I was thinking to myself: “Lisa was just helping me. I’m still new and I’m still being trained. I was working. I have a hammer in my hand to prove it. Lisa is my trainer, please don’t yell at her.” Where we were working at was right across the way from toys in the middle part of the store.
He just stood there looking at me few a few seconds, so not knowing what to do I just said out loud: “The shelf wouldn’t go in. She’s training me.” I wiggled my hammer. Ed puts his palm over his face and takes a deep breath as he turns around. I thought he was going to start yelling. But he turns back around to look at me and Lisa and he sad: “I’m sorry you ladies had to see that. I feel bad. I really do. I hope they don’t take it personally. I just get angry when I see people not working. I put in 100% of my effort into my job. I expect the same from everyone. I get angry when I see people not work. I don’t care if you don’t like your job or aren’t really working. Just look busy.”
I nodded in fear and I said: “Yes sir. We were working, she’s just helping me out.” And Ed shows his palms at us and says: “No, no, no. Not you ladies. Don’t mind me. I know your working. I can hear you down from the other department. I’m just vent some steam at somebody. I’m gunna go and clean up my mess now.”
My friends and I where hired a few months before Christmas season that year. In these types of mass retail stores, Christmas season is chaotic. After settling in my job for the easy months and getting to know everybody and learning about Ed’s character under extreme anger and stress, December came and Christmas season hit the store. At Target, the Planogram team during Christmas season is like the bitch of the store. We get used by every other team. First our job during November into early December was to literally redo the entire store to make everything Chrismassy. Every aisle had to be reconstructed, new aisles had to be build in the back for the extra Christmas stuff. We had to put up the seasonal signs in the store, put up the trees in the display area. Then when we were done the Planogram crew was disbanned for the season since there were no aisles to be worked on, and we’d be everybody’s bitch into January.
Our team went into work one night at 12 AM to see Ed pulling pallets and dumping them everywhere in the main aisles of softlines. I walked down the rows and rows of pallets with our team leader Sean in horror to the 40 hugely piled Christmas pallets. Sean gave me a look of part horror, part anger, and part annoyance. Ed dropped off another pallet and walked up to us and said to Sean: “Sean my man. Good to see you two early. All these pallets need to be sorted before the store opens. The stock team over the weekend didn’t sort them for you like I asked. Got a little upset. Broke a few things. Sorry to do this to you guys.”
Sean is still my friend to this day. He’s half Black half Irish, very attractive, body builder type. He spent 4 years in the army and then joined the air force reserves. He’s also my personal mentor in the 5% Nation. Sean said in anger and disgust back at Ed: “Man, you know how much work my team already has. What the hell does the stock team even do during Christmas Ed, and they couldn’t help out and sort this stuff?” Ed goes: “Tell me about it. It is what it is Sean. Chloe go clock in and and start sorting, you can have my LTR [scanning device]. I want every box repalletized by aisle number to help you guys out. Get as much done as you can be fore the store opens. I’m gunna drag Sean to the back and touch base with him real quick.” Sean goes: “Ed you can’t do this to me man. They gave me 7 aisles to set tonight. I need her in those aisles.” Ed said back: “Sean, work with me. Nobody else will.” Sean said ‘alright’ and they both looked at me, so I went to clock in.
Me and Sean got stuck that night going through every box. You have to scan the bar code on the box then write the aisle number it gives you on the box and then sort them out by aisle number and make new pallets. As we were doing this Sean was cussing and bitching about how bad the stock team sucks. The supervisor of the stock team had come up to us chuckling and patting Sean on the back teasing about the extra load of work we got stuck with. Him and Sean were peers in the store’s official ranking system and actual friends. Sean said annoyed and pissed: “Fuck you man and your lazy ass team. Ain’t this your guy’s work? You guys are fucking incompetent. You need the Plano team to pull your truck for you, do your work for you. But whatever. My team gets your work done AND our work done. Get the fuck out of this aisle before I bitch slap you.” The other guys leaves laughing and says as he walked away: “Hey Sean! Thanks for picking up my slack buddy. I owe you one.” Sean mumbled to himself and me: “I really feel like killing a few people right now, you don’t even know.”
So during the chaos of Christmas season on the Plano team, people took shits on you whenever they could everywhere they can. Technically before we set an aisle the protocol is to use our LRT’s or PDA’s to punch in an order of the new items our schematics says we will need. The backroom team is supposed to do their part – team work – and pull our order for us. But this doesn’t happen of course. I took down my aisle to set up a Christmas aisle, and I had all this backstock items not going back up which I put on these pallets neatly for the back room and I had put in my order way before I started taking apart my aisle. So I went to deliver my backstock pallet to Ray who was the supervisor of the backroom.
Technically his team is supposed to backstock the crap we pull off. But of course this doesn’t happen in practice. I pulled my pallet back to Ray who is or was this 40 year old White ex-Marine guy [he was cool] and always, he yells at me saying: “No, no no girl! I’ve had enough crap from your team. I got a job to do too. You’re backstocking everything you’re bring back here!” He acts like that under pressure, where he no longer cooperates or works as a team. So I said back: “Ray I’m setting a damn aisle. I can’t backstock this shit.” He interrupted and said: “Then don’t be bringing shit back here!” I said: “Where the hell am I supposed to put this shit then Ray? And my order? I’m ready for it.”
Ray said or bitched that he had too much work on his hands and could not get to any of our orders. So I had an empty aisle. I went to go tell Sean Ray wanted me to backstock my own stuff and he didn’t pull any off our orders. That got Sean very angry. When Sean is angry is throws things on the ground and goes deathly silent like a sniper and just walks back with a look on his face like he’s gunna fist fight someone. He disappears usually. So that night I went to go to the back room to see what to do with my empty aisle. Sean was pulling our orders and yelling back and forth at Ray saying: “How you gunna do this to me Ray. Fucking lazy ass motherfucker. At least tell me you ain’t gunna pull my orders. I got empty aisles out there.”
Sean – like me – is the type to keep working steady in extreme states of anger and under extreme stress. Usually he verbally vents his steam, but he keeps working and doing his duties and whatever extra shit he has to do. I’m the opposite. I shut up when I am extremely angry or under high stress. If its too much I’ll bitch in my head or cry but I’ll keep doing the work, stay functional and alert, and stay focused. I can still think straight where I can or have to re-prioritize what needs to be done and what needs to be suspended. Sean taught me that panic kills in real live situations. Like when your car is in a lake. If you panic and don’t have full control of your emotions and mind, and you can’t calm yourself, you’re gunna die in the car cuz you’re not thinking straight. Same thing with being out in the battlefield. You always have to have full control of your emotions and mind at all times. You can vent and bitch to let off steam, but don’t ever lose control of your emotions and thinking faculty.
After we had set the whole store our team was disbanded and we were put to work on “projects.” Usually the guys in our team get put in the Christmas tree truck, or they are put in the stockroom truck unloading the trucks. The girls get used all over the place.
I “lucked” out during my tenure with this job, which was my only “real” [non-family] job. Ed had made me his “personal assistant” for the season. Which meant he just gave me a long list of orders to follow and left me alone to execute them one at a time. Technically my chore he gave me was to just walk around the entire store and keep every end cap in the whole store fully stocked and to just do what I have to to keep them all full. Then to pull all clearance items from every aisle and put in in back end caps. Then to take every clearance item in the backroom and flush them out, meaning get them on the floor in the end caps. So usually back at that time I just minded my own business, pulled my own items, kept every end cap loaded with crap for the morning. But I learned that there are only so many back end caps in the store [for clearance], and the stockroom team were flushing out every clearance item from their backroom.
I walked in the store one night at 3 in the morning to find over a dozen pallets of clearance stuff out on the floor waiting, after I had taken a walk to check how many end caps needed to be restocked which was half of them in the store. I was standing there shocked at the dozen pallets of crap as Ray dropped off another one laughing and he said: “Look at her just standing there. I’d start working if I were you. We got more clearance stuff coming for you.” I bitched out at him saying: “All my clearance end caps are full Ray! I don’t have anywhere to put all this at?!” He just said: “Your problem, not mine. I’m just doing what Ed told me to do.” Then walks away.
I went to go find Ed to complain at him about the 12 pallets of shit the backroom was giving to me, thinking Ed would compassionately understand and provide me with a helper or something. When I saw Ed, he just said: “Chloe! My little helper. Come with me to the back yard. I need you to go through a container for clearance items. The stock team was supposed to go through it, but they didn’t.” I was shocked and I opened my mouth to bitch or vent and I said: “But,” but before I finish the but Ed stops me and said: “Don’t do this with me Chloe. I’m gunna blow a fuse. If it’s one thing I hate is people that complain and bitch. It gets absolutely nothing done. I give you everything I got. You need to give me everything you got and don’t ask questions. I know you’re better than that and capable of more. I know because I’ve seen you work stressed out and I’ve put to under pressure. You can’t imagine the pressure my bosses are putting me through right now. I’ve got nobody else to rely on who can take the heat but you and Sean. Don’t burn out on me now.” I nodded and said: “Okay.”
Ed led me out in the store’s backyard to a container just outside the doorway of the backroom going outside. He propped the door opened and called the security guard on his walkie to meet him in the backroom to guard a door, and told the backroom team to keep an eye on me and to check up on me since I’ll be outside by myself in a dark container. The container is the big kind you see on trains, big trucks etc. It’s dark and packed with pallets. I was given a flashlight and a scanner. My job was to go through every box and flush out all the clearance items and get them out in the floor. It was 3 something in the morning and very cold. And just my luck every one of the big pallets – over a dozen – were wrapped in plastic, and there was no room to work in. I had to literally climb on top of the boxes just to move. The previous manager had gotten fired for this. Instead of doing her job, the previous manager ordered all of these containers and pack-ratted stuff into them and never told anybody about them. As soon as Ed left I just stood their for a moment and kicked the nearest box a few times to let out some steam.
Every few minutes my friend the “security” guard came by to check up on me. His name was Rodney, but we called him Big Rod. He was in his late 20′s back then. Had these big bushy sideburns and both of his arms were tatted up. They called him Big Rod because he was big built, not fat. He was chubby, but he also worked out so he was also packing muscles. Big Rod was a Mongol which is a rival 1% biker gang of the Hell’s Angels. He loved talking about motor bike gangs, their culture, street gangs, etc.” I started talking to him at break talking about Asian gangs. His friends were Asians, so he knew every Asian gang. I learned many things about biker gangs in return. He was “cool people,” at break he’d pass out cups to those of us he knew were “cool” and filled it up with beer.
Big Rod once put me to the test for whatever reason after a few drinks and getting to know me. He told me to follow a guy around the stock team for him and gave me a name, and asked me to give him any information about this guy I hear. Since Big Rod was the security guard I figured this guy – named Jeff – was stealing things. So over the months I spied on Jeff and collected every bit of information I hear about him, and during break I’d relay what I knew to Big Rod. I never asked why he asked why. I know enough street ethics and my own family culture to not ask why when you’re told to do something by somebody older than you or who out ranks you. You can smell a test when one is given to you. A few months pasted and as I was walking from the restroom one night I saw Jeff walking around a section in the store he was not placed in. People on the stock team get placed to work in departments. Curious I walked fast behind him towards his direction. I saw him turn down an aisle walking to the a back end cap. Jeff is one of those trashy trailor park White guys that is the type to not feel right with anybody. He was dirty and never seemed to bathe or comb his hair.
I walked very slowly on the front end of the aisles, past one aisle at a time to find him so I can see what he was doing. He was in the electronics department which was quiet. I saw his elbow. He was doing something behind an end cap. I made a sniffle sound pretending to normally walk by and he looked and saw me and quickly fumbled with something and very, very nervously said to me as he was walking back to the front: “Hey Chloe.” I said: “What’s up Jeff?” He goes: “Nothing. Nothing. I went to the bathroom. Just checking out checking out a few things. I better go before Robin [his supervisor] looks for me.” I nodded and smiled watching him walk to his department. Then I stopped him and said: “Jeff,” I got very close to his dirty ear and continued: “You have to be more careful next time.” And I looked at him. Jeff had this look of panic or guilt or fear and he nervously said to me: “You’re not going to tell are you? Please?” But I assured him and said: “No. We’re cool right?” He nodded and thanked me.
The next day I told Jeff at a quiet section of the store that I wanted to buy whatever he took. I used the fact that he knew I knew as an unspoken blackmail. He admitted to me that he had taken a Game Boy for his little son. I told him I’ll give him $20 for it and things will be cool. So he agreed. He had no choice but to agree. The next day after work Jeff gave me the new Game Boy things he stole and I gave him $20. Then that same day I called Big Rod and told him everything, stating that I had the Game Boy in my possession. Big Rod told me to come over to his apartment for dinner with him and his wife to show me the item he stole.
The three of us at Big Rod’s pad drank and smoked weed as he was looking at the Game Boy. Big Rod told me and his wife who was my age and tatted up: “We’ve been trying to catch this fucker in the act. They’ve been building some case on his dirty ass for six months. Think he’s ripped off fucking $2000 worth of shit. A few days ago one of the execs found a fucking Game Boy box fucking opened in the back end caps in electronics. My girl Chloe caught the fucker red handed, evidence and all too. Ain’t that something. This is the fucking Game Boy from that box. How’d you do this?” I explained to him what happened and that I tricked him into selling me the Game Boy or I’d tell. But I asked Big Rod if I can get busted for buying it. He said that technically I could, but he’ll make sure the fucker never mentions my name and he won’t bring up any transaction of money. Then Big Rod goes: “All I know is somebody is going to jail, and I’m getting a fucking promotion! You don’t mind if I take the credit for this bust do you?” I said: “No way. Go ahead. If the guys on the stock team [gang bangers] ever find out, they’ll never talk to me again.” Big Rod reassured me: “Nah, just between us, those guys are cool with me, they take shit in plain view of me. They owe me. You’re cool. Don’t stress over it. This bust is strictly business.” That’s how we got to know each other, and how I earned his trust.
So out in the container my friend Big Rod came to check up on me, climbing in the containers he said to me: “Shit, it’s fucking cold in here. You know he can get fired for putting you at risk out here by yourself at this time? You want me to put the word in for you? I’ll be your witness. I can’t stand the fucker.” I said back: “Nah, I’m cool Big R. Just helping him out, that’s all.” He goes: “Yeah, but this ain’t right. He should be out here not an 18 year old girl. What’s up with that picture. He’s using you.” I said: “Nah. Just leave him alone. He’s alright. Ed is an acquired taste.” Rod asks: “What’s that mean?” I said: “When you haven’t tasted something before, and you have to learn to get use to the shit. Feel people out and know how to dance with them or work with them. You know.” So he looked around and changing the subject said: “Alright. Just let me know. Ey, anything interesting in there?” I said: “I’ll open some of the interesting boxes up. If I see anything I’ll holler.” Big Rod says quietly as he starts to leave: “Yeah, just set it aside for me. I’ll stuff my fucking pockets.”
It took me till 8 in the morning to go thru the whole container. I had few pallets of stuff, and I had set aside all of these things for Big Rod. Every so often he’d come by and stuff his pockets, vanish for a while when he was supposed to be guarding the door, then come back to reload with stuff I find. We did that for five hours. I had pallets and pallets of clearance shit I had to push out on the floor. After lunch break I found Ed to inform him of my only option since all of the clearance end caps were over flowing. I told Ed: “Ed, I have all these pallets of clearance and all of the end caps are packed.” Ed claps his hands like he’s cheering me on and said: “What are you gunna do about it?” So I said: “I have to pirate a couple aisles in the store. I have no other choice.” Ed goes: “Great. Do what you gotta do. Give it to me! Blame everything on me if you have to. Just get rid of everything.”
So I went to the Home Décor department after lunch and killed two whole aisles. I removed everything from them and stuffed the items in new homes with their labels in different places. Put up a shit load of shelves in my pirated aisles and started to stuff my pirated aisles with nothing but clearance stuff.
The stock team stocking the department gave me a shit storm. What they do is take tubs loaded with boxes to the aisles the boxes goes in and the are supposed to stock them. But I had killed two aisles which confused the dumb lazy fucks. One of them came by the aisle with their tubs and looking confused or lazy said to me: “Where did these two aisles go?” I said: “I moved them into the next aisle and all along the back wall.” And I pointed out where I moved the stuff to. This grown person in her 40′s bitches at me: “Well what am I supposed to do now? I can’t waste my time looking for their new homes. I’m telling Robin.” I got upset over this grown up bitching like a 5 year old and I said: “Ma’am, the new homes are right in the next aisle and down along the big wall. Can you work with me please and help me out?” She storms off to tell her supervisor on me.
Robin the stock team supervisor is this older lady of about 35-40ish. She has short hair and looks like a butch dike, and she carries herself in a very masculine way all bossy like. She has a short fuse and is the biggest bitch in the store when she is barely stressed out. Under stress she malfunctions and stops working right and storms off not working in a cloud of butthurt.
Robin marches up to the aisles I had pirated and out loud with the store open and costumers walking by just losses it on me saying: “Chloe what the hell is this? Where the hell are my two aisles! You can’t just go around killing aisles like this? My stock team gets confused. I got a backroom packed with pallets that I need to get out. Blah blah blah!” Just to shut her up I said in a low tone: “Just leave the stuff here Robin. I’ll take care of it okay.” She goes all smartass like: “If you say so. You’re stocking it not me. Ed’s gunna know about this.” So she walked off, having dismissed a part of her responsibility on me. I was mocking her in my head going: “If you say so. Whatever then. Go tattle tale on me. I told Ed I was gunna do it anyways. Whatever happened to team work? It’s like everybody is out to look out only for their own asses and they try to evade as much work as they can get away with not doing.” That’s when I realized that Ed was right. Complaining and bitching makes you look like a baby. And these are grown people.
A few minutes later, while the store was open with customers in it, you hear stuff being thrown, things crashing and breaking, out in the back of the toy department again. Then you hear Ed yelling profanities while the store was open. And his voice was getting louder and louder, so I figured he was walking my way. I stood there waiting for him to see what he was going to do. I told him I was gunna kill aisles and he said I could. I’d feel very shocked and betrayed if he turned around and yelled at me. Ed snapped in public right in my aisle with the stock team and some customers watching. Ed sort of talked to himself or me or somebody out loud saying in public: “Fuck me! I’m not a fucking manager. I’m a fucking babysitter! That’s what I am! I’m surrounded by babies! Chloe do you have any babies I can babysit? I sure could use another baby. Ma’am how about you?”
He mumbles to himself and what went to the tubs of stuff the stock team left for me and opened the boxes and proceeded to stock the stuff as he shakes his head. Just like Sean handles things when he is very angry and stressed out. I thought that was very nice and loyal of him to help me out with the boxes in that situation. That’s how I personally learned that Ed was true, trustworthy, and loyal to those he can depend on. Robin came by and in a very nice and sweet voice said to Ed: “Ed I can stock the stuff, you know. I was just,” before she could finish explaining Ed goes: “Robin, I’m this close to killing somebody or myself. Leave. Go do your job or clock out and go home for the day. Please.”
By then I was just doing my work and pretending to not be aware of the public drama. While I was working with Ed working with me, I wondered how he relationship with his wife was like? So I just kept working, and Ed just quietly stocked the crap. In those moments you just stay quiet and let the men go into their cave and cool down. He gets over his anger quick, then apologizes to everyone, then he kept working the boxes that went into the aisles I killed. At break he bought me, Sean, Faith, and another one of his hand picked helpers who was a friend of ours named Arnie who was a short older man in his 50′s with a thick mustache from Afghanistan. Faith was a very cool elder lady. She was 57 and still had a lot of horse power in her. She was working just to stay busy. She was rich, had white hair and a kick ass attitude, and she drove a better car to work than Ed’s. She’s a Southern Bell and talks with a southern accent, and she cusses like a sailor. Ed told us at break that he needs us to stay 12 hours to finish up our chores and take care of things. He warned us that its gunna be 8 more hours of him using and abusing us. The four of us agreed to stay.
“In one ear, out the other baby.” That was Faith’s policy with people like Ed. She told me at break that Ed is just like her husband when he was young, and they have been married for over 40 something years. “You let them use you and abuse you. Let them learn to trust you and know they can come to you. Make them know you are the only one that can take their shit. Then turn that around and use that in turn to get you where you need to go. He needs us more than we need him. If he’s smart, he’ll learn he either needs to put out or lose his support. Let the man be a man and do his thing, that’s just how God made him baby. Just remember what I tell you, and this is coming from an old lady whose been through everything imaginable in life: The more a person needs you, the more control you have over them. I wasn’t born rich.” That’s the type of stuff Faith taught me and Sean based on her many years of being married to a man like Ed for 40 years.
Ed ended up building a little clique he called the “A Team.” It was 7 of us he had tested and hand picked over the months. The ones he pushed to the breaking point, used, manipulated [buying us lunches, messing with our feelings, etc], and the only ones who stuck by him. He used his “A Team” to get his work load done all during the holiday season. Before it officially started he had a meeting with the 7 of us and just point black said in plain English: “I picked you 7 because you are the only 7 that can think straight and function under high stress and pressure. You’re the only ones that can take the heat and deal with my shit, and every one of these babies’ shit. We all got bosses here. I get shit on, I’m gunna shit on you, you go shit on whoever. I don’t care. Lets make it a shit fest if we need to. Shit on me if that makes you feel better because I don’t take any thing said in anger or pressure seriously, just work with me. Fuck the rest of the store. Fuck the stock team. Fuck the backroom team. Fuck those grown babies. We’ll run this store our god damn selves. Pull our own shit, stock our own shit, get every lazy person’s fucking jobs done in between. I’m gunna use you and abuse you all Christmas season. Use me and abuse me too. Just work as a fucking team. That’s all I ask of you. Everyone still with me?” So we all nodded. Sean goes: “Lets do it.”
After Christmas season Ed got praised for his work. He had taken a stored that got fucked up because of the previous manager, and fixed everything up and picked up revenue again. He got a fat Christmas bonus. In private he gave each of us 7 a very private bonus out of his own pocket, and he actually shows a very sincere appreciation for the work we put in during his little speech for the 7 of us when he cried, or his eyes got very watery. Unfortunately he wasn’t perfect. My year of working there had come round. Thanksgiving season had come. The store got all of these for the Thanksgiving Day Sale. Ed saved one X Box in his office for his son which he bought when the store opened. One of the execs who did not like Ed ratted on him. The management team were not legally allowed to save items in their offices that are on sale for the public. So he got fired. Of all people Robin had come to each of us collecting money to buy Ed a going away gift, since over the year she had grown to like him and understand his nature. I put in $300. Sean and Faith were the only others to put in a big contribution. Ed left without a fight.
Two weeks after he got fired he came by our Target with a golf club on Monday wearing his ring. We were out at lunch break. He just stops and says: “Ever golfed on Mondays before? Chloe, you taking care of my Lexus for me?” It was mine, but he called it his since he has a thing for such types of car brands. After small talk he said he got a new job as the top manager of a different company and he came to collect his A Team. He promised all 7 of us immediate promotions if we came. All 7 of us left Target and followed Ed.
Ed and my old friend Gino from the plant had the same “work ethics” as I recalled after my experience with real work. Things that Gino once taught me about people and testing them for their fortitude were true. Most people turn to babies when the slightest pressure is applied. Most people just complain, whine, and bitch their discomfort or disagreement like a baby cries to have its diaper changed. And these grown babies actually want you to change their diapers for them, expecting you to appease them and fix shit for them. They can’t do shit by themselves, which is why they complain. How many of these grown babies complain about their work, but keep doing their job and don’t change their routine? How many complain about politics, but yet they keep supporting the same system and same two parties?
How many of you cry like grown babies over how you don’t like ONA but, it’s still here? That’s incompetence and impotence. You huff and puff about the sex how your great, but can’t ever get it up to do shit. How am I supposed to take you fucking babies seriously then? Whining, disagreeing with me, debating my ideas, talking shit about me, don’t do jack shit in the real world, and you know it never has. That’s all you bitches got. Just like peasants and serf bitching about their plight and serfdom and talking shit about their masters that own them. Nothing besides talk is ever done. And don’t bring up the American revolution like I’m fucking stupid or the French Revolution. Who were the bulk of the loyalists, did the generic populous actually participate or did they just exist and get manipulated, and who had the guts to actually risk their life and freedom to commit treason against the Crown and Law of the day? You all are bitches. You, your ancestry, and whole bloodline. You bitch about breaking the law today, and your ancestors bitched about breaking the law of the land and religion in the past. So don’t act like a fucking superhero Captain Satan with me cuz you found satanism and you got opinions. I’d rather cut my wrists then breed with one of you peasant [plebeian] fucks. That’s straight from my heart.
A Team
Gino had the exact same method of building up his own A Team. What I remember him do was pick up random Mexicans temp workers. Then during the day he’d push all of them to high levels of stress and just use them all day. Some walked out. Few stayed.
This one young Mexican, who is still a friend of mine to this day named Israel got a job at our plant like this. Israel at the time he first started was 19. He was an illegal alien with false papers. His wife is a citizen. He didn’t speak a word of English, and he barely does still. He came to this country by himself. Said it cost him $3000 to pay the “Coyotes” which is the term for the nice businessmen who work the human traffic industry. He came alone leaving his family behind so he can get work to send money to his parents and siblings back home. He told me once – via our interpreter Ricardo the machine tech – that his [Israel's] dream was to work hard for 20 years here, have his parents save the money, then go back home and open his own small business and be a jeffe [boss], so his parents can retire and travel the world.
Me and Dave used to watch how badly Gino treated Israel from across the street in the safety of our air conditioned office. When Israel was stressed out or very angry, he’d walk out the plant and just sit at the side walk looking sad. I felt really sad for him when he did that. Because he’s all alone in a foreign country which sees him as a criminal, and all he wants is just to make money to have a better life, and the only place that will give him work is just treating him awful. He sits there cuz he really has nowhere to go. Gino would come out screaming at the top of his lung in a Scottish Accent: “Israel, get back in there boy!” Israel would get up slowly with his head down and walk back inside to work. And you see a smile on Gino’s face as he pats Israel on the back.
Everyday in the morning even when we didn’t need workers to help, Israel would always be waiting at the front door with his bike. Gino would buy him breakfast and coffee and set him to work. And you’ll see the same thing happen. Israel would walk out the plant and sit on the side walk. Dave would be looking out the window and saying to me: “Here we go again Chloe. They’re gunna bond again. How do you like that. A Scotsman and a Mexican making friends. Only in America.” Then you see Gino storm out of the plant like he was looking to kill somebody and he’ll scream out as loud as he can: “Israel! Get back in there boy!” And Israel would walk back in with a smirk on his face.
Dave said once when Gino was hanging around the office: “I feel bad for Israel. You treat that poor boy like shit.” Gino says: “I ain’t treating him like shit. He has potential. He knows it and I know it. I’ve seen him work when he puts him mind to it. That boy is smart. But he’s lazy. He needs discipline. He keeps a straight head under pressure. He’ll understand in time. That’s how my father raised me when I was his age. Look at how I turned out.” He chuckles to himself and Dave said laughing: “Yeah, look at you, bullying Mexicans.”
A year later Gino starts relegating supervisor chores to Israel. You’ll see Gino come out to inspect the Mexicans working in the yard and he gets angry cuz they aren’t working hard enough. He yells out: “Israel! Tell your brothers to quit fucking around and work god dammit! We ain’t paying them to hold hands!” Then you’ll see Israel doing the exact same thing Gino does. He yell out profanities in Spanish and makes everybody work while he stands and watches. You’ll see Gino come out later to check up on everybody, and he’ll nod in approval and pat Israel on the back and go back inside.
Slowly over the years other workers with the same quality and nature as Gino and Israel just comes back and back everyday. They get put into this clique where a very real chain of command structure can be seen to take shape. And you’ll see that this clique get’s the most work done. Gino had manifested himself an efficient work force. Gino buys his workers food out of his own pocket, and after work hours he shoves extra cash in the pockets of his hand picked boys like Israel. After two years Gino build up his A Team made up of a small group of 5 people who were able to work together cooperatively in a team or collective effort which group was also able to maintain that cooperative ability to productively work together under high stress, extreme anger, and high pressure some days at the plant created. Basically they were dedicated or loyal to the work and their group, and the anger, stress, and pressure was not able to break their solidarity and functionalism apart.
Some may wonder why I’m talking about my boring work experience. Partly because I’ve alive for about 2 and a half decades and I haven’t experienced much else in Life. You work with what you got. But I can still extract insights from these experiences in life.
So what do I mean by a chain of command? I mean Information traveling unimpeded whereby this information is apprehended by each group member, and where each group member then executes its duties accordingly. Ed had an end objective, he tells his A Team what he wants, his A Team divvies up the work needed to manifest it, and the end result is actualized. Gino has a work load and work order to meet, he tells his A Team, they divvy up the responsibilities, and the end result gets done. Your conscious mind wants to cross the street, it dictates its will or desire to the body, your body its limbs and organs divvies up the work load needed to get you ass across the street, and the work gets done. That’s what I mean by a chain of command and efficient work force.
There is a different between an army and a mass of common city citizens. There is a difference between a street gang and the mass of common city residents. There is a difference between a construction company building a structure and the random people walking by the construction site. There is a difference between a company of business partners and the common mass of citizens. The difference is that one is structured in a coherent ordering where that Information travels unimpeded and the other is an incoherent structure where Information does not move. Take a piece of Coal, and a Diamond. Both are made of carbon atoms. Shine a laser through both of them. The light of the laser is pure Information. Which on of these carbon made objects does the Information travel through unimpeded and which one obstructs the information and why? And which is more valuable and stronger and which one is actually worthless and crumbles easily? Figure that out on your own and the implications.
The Price of Liberalism
So after all that recollection coagulated in my head I walked home to think about what I needed. I don’t need a book. Having a memeplex encased inside a book does not guarantee that that memeplex will jump out of the pages to be alive. How does a memeplex come to life? Where does the Christmas memeplex “go” when Christmas season is not here? It doesn’t go anywhere. It’s still in your fucking head. It just is not influencing you to manifest it. But who hangs popcorn and tinsel on a pine tree in the summer anyways right? Where does the Halloween memeplex “go” every other day of the year when it’s not October 31st? No where, it’s Dormant in the cultural fabric still. It’s just not expressed threw your actions/kammanta to produce Fruit in the physical world. So don’t even tell me a memeplex laying dormant in a book does shit, when one laying in your own head and culture most times doesn’t do shit. Telling me you wrote a book with ideas in it and acting like you did something special is like saying to me: “Look I got a Halloween memeplex in the middle of fucking April. It’s all made and constructed. I put in all this logic and intelligence into it. Not a single fallacy!” So? I got a quarter in my pocket, who the fuck cares? It’s fucking April? What’s that Halloween memeplex do in April? Shit. What do you call something that does shit? Worthless crap.
Or a better example of this phenomenon is what the mundane satanists are good at doing in their forums and cyber hang outs. They’ll say: “D00d, come quick and hang out with us in our chatroom. We’re talking about the Christmas memeplex in the middle of July! Fuck Independence Day. There’s a snow storm of opinions going on right now, and a load of cyberdrama. Come on, hail satan!” Cuz what do these mundane faggots do in their special places? They throw their opinions around about everything. And they call that a religion or philosophy. Where they tree hug an arbitrary set of ideals and use that to produce opinions about other people, other belief systems, and so on. That’s the essence of mundane satanism, and mundane anything. They call that “praxis,” sometimes. Five year old kids can throw their opinions about shit around too. “But we are grown ups and logical.” The essence of this paragraph will just fly right above the heads of these generics.
It’s like a farmer were to come up to me and say: “I got this special mixture of fertilizer. It’s the greatest pile of manure in my opinion. And I have some high opinions about it too. It’ll do all sorts of miracle stuff on your rice patties and wheat fields.” Then I were to say back: “That sounds awesome. Can I see a basket of your fruits and vegetables you grew with this infallible manure? Just so I can see what I can grow?” And the farmer says: “Well, I just have ideas, but they are lofty opinions! I’m just saying you know. I mean I’ve tried to grow shit myself, but it never worked out. But I swear it had nothing to do with the actual manure, because I wasn’t using it, cuz it’s not made yet. Like I said, it’s just very important opinions.”
And this is the exact same thing your common generic satanist in cybrspace is doing. They sure do have a lot of lofty and important opinions about satanism and everything. But the deed and acts? Oh don’t start talking about that cuz you’ll start drama, where people will just deflect and say: “Well you prove you did shit first. If your bad ass.” But what does somebody like the old Buddha say to focus your attention on when judging the value of something? Not on what is being said, no matter how logical or right it sounds or who is saying it. Not even on the deed or action committed or attempted. The important thing to look at is the FRUIT of such words, beliefs, and/or actions. If a farmer were to bring you a basket of fruit and carrots he’s grown, you can’t use that defletive shit and say: “Oh yeah, prove it, what have you done.” Because his little basket of fruits and vegetables is what is to be judged. By Fruit [Vipaka] I mean the karmic [action-reaction] resultant manifestation of something which is tangible and measurable in a kamma-kosala way, meaning Productive Work/Labour.
For instance I can judge the condition of my life at the moment here in America, and based on my evaluation such life here I can value the American revolution to be Kamma-Kosala, even if it was bloody and cost lives. Or I can judge the value of the English language by pointing out cases where Arab businessmen and Taiwanese tycoons talk business in English and a profit is made. I can bring up how a diplomat from Brazil and one from China talk English and certain diplomatic agreements manifest. I can point out a Japanese pilot talk English to Indonesian fly control to safely land his passengers. Or I can point out international companies that advertise to an international global market in English to a mass of people of different walks of life and nationalities who speak English where billions of dollars are made annually. And I can take all of that and say: “Yes, even though the English language itself is a memeplex or construct of intangible memes and ideas, it is valuable and worth something because of the FRUIT which it has and can bare, which I have seen.” The English language or its supporters don’t have to huff and puff, or assert opinions. I can see the fruit in plain view. Fuck the deeds he “praxis,” the application, and the theories and speculations too. I can see the Fruit/Vipaka and that is what you base your judgment and valuation on.
Where is satanism’s basket of fruit? I’m not talking about YOUR fruits in life as an individual person doing shit. I’m talking about the memeplex itself and the fruit it manifests through you via its influence over you, just as English as a memplex influences us Collectively to talk and communicate thereby producing measurable results, etc. You fuctards had 50 years at least. Show me your basket of shit. But you don’t have to show me, cuz its all out in the open. Lets name some fruit the memeplex of satanism has produced. My list is not everything:
One, we have internet forums. That’s one. Two, don’t forget the Satanic Bible by Avon! Three, social networks, that’s right. Oh four, yes Youtube, I didn’t forget that. Five, don’t forget all the wannabe satanic Bibles ever written by a satanist which have all been forgotten! Six, and all the thousands of high priests, grandmagisters and all of their thousands of satanic churches, demonic temples. Seven, lets throw in death metal for the hell of it. Eight, how about those gibbering idiots we call Theistic satanists who believe Satan is a spirit person from sumeria and/or the 12th planet. Nine, yes websites galore, can’t forget that shit. You’re illegit if your venture doesn’t have a well designed one. Ten, chatrooms! Yes, the Nobel Prize end result of cybersatanism can’t leave out the all important chatrooms. You the reader can add more to the list if I forgot any Fruit of modern satanism. But Ten is enough fruit for me to evaluate the worth of the kamma wrought and the value of this species of memeplex. You guys are fucking pathetic. The whole lot of you. You can deflect from these ten fruit by hiding behind your pretentious ego-based logic and rationalism and scientism and beliefs, but you cannot hide the fruits of your actual collective actions as a people under the influence of this memeplex. 50 years and this is the most visible of your fucking fruit.
When I point a finger at mundane satanism, how many fingers am I pointing back at me and ONA? Three. Which is why I’m trying to figure shit out for the ONA, writing my thoughts, and hoping that the very few of you in ONA will find this, understand, and help out by forming our A Team. So in my Target and plant recollections we see there are two distinct groups of people. One group is Liberal, and the other is Conservative. You have the liberal group who are the random generic employees or workers. They are disorganized, incoherent, they have trouble working as a cooperative group where work load is divvied and shared. Then you have the conservative group of workers. These are the ones that have a visible organized structure to their group social order, there is a visible or discernible means of in group information or intelligence transfer. Not only does information travel well in this more organized group, but the information and intelligence has more power to causally manifest as act and then fruit. Work load is divvied up and given to this group’s members. Everyone does their duty even under great stress. The work load gets done, and the rewards are shared after.
So here by “Liberal” I mean to say when you get 10 people and each of the 10 think only of themselves, are oblivious to the other 9, and have the mentality where they want to be free to do as they please, to just do their chore or job and not be bothered to do more than they they have to. By “conservative” in this context I mean when you have 10 people and those 10 gives up a portion of their self interest to work in a group dynamic, and where there is a group interest to maintain or Conserve such group effort and group dynamic. So lets do a thought experiment. Take your body and all of its vital organs and the individual jobs they do. Is your body a liberal bio-organic structure or a conservative bio-organic structure? And would you exist if every organ and cell in your body were liberal? Once we come to the understanding that our bodies is a conservative thingy, then we can ask: “Well what is this conservative biological mass most basic function or purpose? The answer is: to pass it’s DNA. Now we can ask: Well what is DNA? And the answer is: a Complex of Information. If you are relatively smart, that in itself should get your brain working. If you are stupid and still can’t see where this is going: What is a memeplex? A Complex of Information.
If you look at DNA or RNA in context to a living organism, we have 5 interconnected point. The first Point is the Amino Acid itself. Second Point is a set cluster of Amino Acid molecules. Third Point is the Protein such cluster of amino molecules generates. Fourth Point is the Organism and its needs. Fifth Point is the Environment of the Organism. The First Point is the single meme. By itself a single meme is worthless. Second point is a cluster of memes that form a meme-molecule. One example is White = Power, which is a simple two meme-molecule. When separated each of those two memes are worthless and everywhere. When combines it’s like putting hydrogen with oxygen, it causes a burst of energy. Third Point is the physical Thing the meme-molecule is pegged to in the real world. The amino acid molecule is associated with a Protein. The White = Power meme-molecule is pegged to a Race. Fourth Point is the Organism itself. What’s an Organism, a conservative Organized group of cells. What is an “Organism” to a memeplex? The collective Host such memeplex lives inside of. In our example the Organism of the White = Power memeplex is the Aryan NS subculture. Fifth point is the matrix or environ of that subculture, its society, nation, civilization, culture, etc. All 5 of those points must be interconnected where one influences change in the other. The environment can influence the needs of an animal or plant. The needs of a organism can influence the molecular clustering of amino acids which produces needed proteins. Over time these subtle changes is called evolution or Development.
In the wacky world of satanism we have the same Liberal and Conservative camps. The entire subcultural phenomenon of satanism is like an ocean. The conservative camp are like multicellular organisms. The liberal camp are like unicellular organisms existing as a mess of random plankton or something. The small camp of conservatives are the three Old Guards of satanism which are the Church of Satanism [1966], ONA [1972], and Temple of Set [1975]. Into this conservative camp goes the other organized groups, satanic churches, temples, and orders. The larger camp of liberals are the majority of Theists and the byproduct of the LaVeyan memplex which are the independent atheist, materialist, logic-geeks that populate the large satanic forums and social networks.
In this context by Conservative I mean when a group of satanists have for themselves an established weltanchauung, paradigm, subculture, shared history, shared group identity, etc, and wen they have a vested interest in Conserving that shared stuff. By Liberal in this context I mean when a group of satanists are disorganized, incoherent, where they don’t have a common history, no shared culture, no common paradigm or weltanchauung. Where they can’t even agree on what satanism is, where each individual satanist insists that its own ego based self interest, self-opinions is paramount and all that matters, in such a way that no organization or common understanding of any sort is possible.
Satanism as a memeplex can only realistically be passed down into the future intact through one of these camps. Guess which one and why. I’ll point out a few reasons why the Liberal camp cannot long term wise pass the Complex of Information which is Satanism into the future. All you have to do is take a cross section of the Liberal camp such as the Theistic Sector of this Liberal camp and look at the rapidity and state of degeneracy Satanism exists in within this Sector. Not only do no two Theists agree on what Satanism or a Satan is, but via this Sector Satan has become a host of goofy things like a reptile alien, a mesopotamian, a demon, a vampire, a werewolf, and shit. Not only has Satan and Satanism become degenerate via this sector, but the memeplex itself is decomposed and incoherent. There exists no common practice, no common rites, the 5 Points are disconnected. The memes aren’t connected to anything physically real, there is no host organism for the memeplex, such a disorganized mass of drooling idiots can’t respond productively to social environment even to cause a development or evolution in a memeplex which has actually decomposed.
The mass of incoherent Modern satanists in those forums and networks on a subcultural level does not fair any better. No two modern mundane satanists even agree on what Satanism is to pass the shit down into the future intact. Anything that requires the participation of two or more of these species of satanist is shunned as leprous conformity. Nevermind mentioning shit like culture and tradition with them. Satanism as a memeplex this sector is also decomposed and disconnected with anything in the real world. They have thrown out their rites and ceremonies in their Satanic Bible they now mostly reject and solely hold onto ideas and their personal opinions of their ideas. It’s not impossible in this sector for satanism to live a while. It has become implausible for satanism to live long in the Theistic sector. But in the modern satanism sector one would have to have a big mouth, a loud voice, and great marketing skills to pass one’s complex of information down 50 years from now.
As far as competition of passing satanism down into the future and next generation, there is no realistic competition. The Conservative camp have the structure and means, and they are by default Conservative with their memeplex. They even have a functioning memetic immune system to protect their memeplex. You see this very developed in the Church of Satan, where when somebody brings up or introduces a meme not a recognized part of their established memeplex, they react collectively to remove that meme and its host from infecting their memeplex.
That’s cool and all, but a groups is only as strong as its weakest link. Meaning that it doesn’t matter how cultured a group is, if your membership base all caves in and abandons ship due to a couple trolls, then what good is that shit? If your membership base ditches your group out of boredom after 5 years, then what good is that? This kind of “damage” to structure in the conservative camp requires a lot of force. Whereas in the liberal camp say an individual satanist spent a great deal of time writing a self published book. Then 5 years later some other person comes out with a book with better ideas. What good is that shit then when the first guy wasted his effort which didn’t due much but inspire some other guy to actually out compete him. In business talk we’d say that the “product” is highly mutable. By that I mean lets say you invent a coffee mug and you patent it with the description that it has one hoop handle. That is a highly mutable product which isn’t even worth patenting because the minute it hits the market, some other guy or company will tweak that shit and patent a coffee mug with two hoop handles and a pretty stripe, and so on. USB flash drives are a good example of a highly mutable product. Which is funny because technically some guy or company in Taiwan I think owns a patent for the USB flash drive since they came up with it first, but it’s such a useful/marketable idea, the whole planet just ignores that patent. At least with the conservative camp they have a collective product which is owned by their group collectively and they say: “This is our product, don’t nobody change shit, this is how it will be marketed.”
So what I figure ONA needs is not a big incoherent “membership” of liberals, but a small coherent group of conservatives. I’ve already explained twice what I mean by the words liberal and conservative when I use it in this essay. The coherency and structure of the group is important because the Information of ONA – its Complex of Information or DNA of the ONA – must be able to travel through that group constituents smoothly and unimpeded. This group needs to know the end result we want and must be able to divvy up the work load and each group member over time does their part: whatever they are good at [their Dharma]. Writing and sharing insights is my natural dharma. Let me do my thing. If art is your dharma, you do your thing and I stay out of your way. If publishing books is your dharma you excel in, then do it. Every constituent follows their dharma and stays out of each others way.
But the Quality of each associate is what is important, therefore each potential “member” needs to be tested. Eventually at the plant I helped out our scientist as his assistant and my technical job title became “Quality Control.” My job was to test the ash for its quality and write a report back to the scientist and old people. My job was also to take samples of the wood we made each day and test them. A test I did was using an air pump device to slowly crack the my wood sample. The device gives me a reading to show how much pressure was used to crack it. Another test I did was an Impact Test where I used a big swinging machine with a heavy weight to impact my wood samples and the machine gave me a number representing the force of the impact. Another test was to put my wood samples in a rolling press machine thing which damaged the test wood and gave me a number. Another test I did was write dates on sample wood and put them out in the sun for many days and to see the effects of sun damage. Another test I did was to freeze my test wood and process them thought the other tests. Another test was to heat my test board in an oven, then process them when cooled to the same set of tests. The freezing and heating simulates weather over many years. Then I calculated the density of each days sample. I gave all my data to the scientist.
Now why did I put my wood to so many tests? Your mundane dummies will say because I hate the wood and want to abuse it. Because that is what they say when I test my people. Do I hate the wood? No dummy. I want the wood to be better. I want that wood to be its highest actualizable potential. Therefore I have to push it to its limit, use it, abuse it, manipulate it, etc. Go take a stroll down any of these mundane satanism’s forums and look at their average untested member and tell me what the Quality of their average membership is. Seriously. The pathetic thing is those people aren’t dead wood. They are living humans and they are made at such poor Quality. And what’s more is that they think being tested and tried is bad and evil. I’m abusive that cry. I’m manipulative because I make people work they cry. Bitch if you don’t work, then what the fuck good are you? If I can’t rely on you that what the fuck good are you? If you can’t take heat from me, or a troll, or cyberdrama, then what the fuck good are you. You think this ONA and its aims is just gunna manifest itself. You think ONA will be of super quality populated by whimps and pussies? And it’s not just me testing people. Testing ourselves and other is a living part of the Seven Fold Way. Testing yourself and people should be a normal cultural habit of any ONA person mentoring a new cell. This ONA is only as strong as it’s weakest link. If the ONA chain is made up of weak rusty links that break easily, then what good is ONA worth?
Everybody in ONA from 3 years ago knows I got tested. For 2 years straight the whole ONA attacked me, tried to chase me out, played mind games with me, didn’t like me, called me names. Did I ever fold my cards? Unfortunately no. I’m still here. And after those two years people learned to feel out my quality and character. I don’t cave into cyber attacks. Any person that caves in or is stressed out or put to the breaking point because of cyberdrama needs to turn off their computer and take a vacation in the real world, go join the military for 4 years, go work a labourous job under a slave driving boss for a year. Live a life as an Asian growing up in a traditional family for 18 years, where you have to obey every one older than you or get a whooping, where you look at your grandmother wrong and you get beat, where your uncle dad beats you you get the top grade in your class. Do that for 18 years and come back online you faggots.
I got yelled at for 21 years straight in my family and I still did my chores and duties while everyone was yelling at me. You white people whine when you get grounded for a month cuz you can go hang out, talk on the fone, or watch TV. Being an Asian girl in a very Traditional family is perpetual grounding for 21 years. And through all the lack of freedom, the yelling, the Disciplining I still put in my work. I still love my family. I still take orders from my elders. I still nursed my elders till they died. Fuck you hubris white Americans and your liberal way of life. Go take out your grandma from her nursing home and bathe her, clean her, feed her and sleep by her side during your free time until she dies in front of you and than step up to me and act like you’re better than me. Otherwise nothing you say, type, or opinionate about me, makes a ripple in my heart. Especially shit said over the internet. You think I’m pathetic like you? And you yourself are the Fruit of your people and parents theories, beliefs, opinions, thoughts, and actions. You each are the Fruit. You white hubris Americans don’t have to show me your actions and deed, or show off your brains to me. You yourselves are the Fruit. And you know you as the Fruit are worthless. This internet cyberreality you white hubris American boys and white hubris American girls and the empty [lacking substance] thought and opinions you dumbfucks throw around is all you can do and will do. You are worth, and opinionating like children is all you ever will be worth as a people. And the children you bring into this world will be just like you.
I hanged ten for the 2 years ONA “attacked” me. And I’m still here. I get it from my birth mom. She the type of person who tries even harder when people talk shit. People said that she’ll never go to college. She did and at 40 something she still goes to the same college and has never stopped. People said she will never own a house. She owns two one she rents out and the other she bought for her mother who. And she lives with me in a third one owned by her husband, my step dad. People said she would never own a business of her own. She does and she works a career. People said she would never have a nice expense car. She has 5. And my little mom takes care of her elderly mother and 8 siblings. And my little mom gives her mother $1000 a month of spending money. And she survived a genocidal revolution. And she came here to this country with nothing. My mom kicks your mom’s ass. That’s the Quality of Woman I was born from. What’s you mom worth besides sucking your dad’s dick off? That’s the quality of woman you White Hubris American Mundanes are born from. Don’t act like you are better than me. The more you talk shit about her, the more she uses that as fuel to drive her to get better. She tells me as a mother: “Don’t ever let them win, not my blood. Don’t ever let those white people or any people tell you who you are and what you can or can’t be. Not my flesh and blood.” You mundanes keep talking about me and ONA. It’s just fuel for the fire. I don’t fold my cards under pressure. I work harder. You bitch out under pressure.
These hubris mundanes act like union workers. You crack the whip on them and test their guts and they cry and tell on you. You can’t test one of them. You can’t tell them what to do. They call that using them. The concept of Quality does not exist to them. They just have opinions. It’s the quality of their opinions that matter, not the Quality of their person, guts, and blood. Because they are peasant stock people: Common. Do we want that worthless breed of people in ONA? Do you want that low quality of person born from a low quality woman to be your peer? Do you let that lowly quality person born of a low quality woman influence you and affect you with what they say about you and what groups or things you are into? Just like union workers these mundanes satanists want as much respect and handouts for as little work as possible. They just want to stand their and share their important opinions and theories with you and get the adoration and admiration and praise for it. And you look at the quality and worth of their satanism and its shit. And these same people on a much bigger level wonder why jobs are expatriated to other countries. And then they cry about their economy and not having a job. And when they do get a job the cry about being working too hard. They cry about anything.
When my former boss Ed put me on his A Team and gave me special favours the whole store of them talked shit about me and us how we kick ass, yada yada. Why was Ed giving me and my 6 Team members special favours and they were left out? Because I worked, did what I was told, didn’t have to be babysitted, kept working under pressure, and still took orders from the boss understanding he too is human and is under pressure. I did kiss anybody’s ass. And what did they do? Bitch when they were asked to do something not in their job description. Milked the time and bitched when they were made to work at a normal pace. And you see the whole lot of them huddled together talking shit and agreeing with each other because you are not one of them and don’t think like them or do like them and these same common peasants in mundane satanism do the same shit and they dare say they it isn’t herd mentality. They call it being an “individual.” What they mean is being Liberal.
Are these the type of people that we want in ONA now, 10, 20, 30, 50 years from now? If not, then every ONA person today needs to understand that this low quality of people hates being tested. The way to weed them out is to filter our kind out of theirs by putting every body that comes to ONA to the test. Test them. Use them. Manipulate them. Those that leave in a huff and puff of whine are peasants. Those that have the guts and blood to endure and find our level are our breed and kind: Noble Born.
I don’t mind being used. As long as I get something in return. Big Rod used me to get a promotion. I had no problem with that. Just give me what I earned: your love, loyalty, respect, and reliability. I want to go to you when I need something and you work for me just like I did for you. I will use and abuse you, but I give you what you earned: my love, loyalty, respect, and reliability. Ask me shit, and I’ll work my ass off for you and never question why. When we have pushed each other to our breaking points, have learned to work together under stress, can put up with each other’s shit, and still be loyal to each other and work for one another, then we’re Family.
Some ONA people from 3 years ago may wonder why I put up with all that shit and why I’m still here. What am I doing? What’s my intention? You once thought I came to steal ONA or take it over or take it from you. You thought I was gunna be another grandmagister taking shit that isn’t mine. What’s my intent and why am I putting effort into ONA? Cuz its my job. I’m just a ONA “member” doing my job. I’ll take the shits and heat from you, and I’ll keep working. For what? For the ONA as a whole, because I genuinely love it. It’s that simple.
I put in the effort, energy, and years for other ONA people because I believe you are my kin and kind. I know ONA people who have projects in ONA. There are those of you who publish ONA books, who make music for ONA, each of us have our own personal projects we are working on. Who benefits when ONA stays alive and grows bigger? You and I all do collectively. I put in my share of work for that. Hang ten with me for just 10 years more and keep your music, art work, and book projects going. Our market will be bigger and you’ll each have more people to help you out or buy your stuff. That’s all I’m doing. It’s just what I am good at doing. It’s my dharma. All I ask is you don’t let those mundanes win, and just put in your dharma and work with me as a team.
I also do what I do for DM. Because he is one of few people, actually the only person to have such a heavy influence on my mind. I do the shit I do for DM. So that the ONA can be a coherent medium through which his philosophy and insights pass into the future, which will survive him. I do what I do for myself. So that ONA is also a vehicle for my ideas and insights. I did what I do for each ONA member, if you would just learn to use the ONA we build together as a vehicle to teach and influence a future unborn generation. I do what I do for my future children who will be born in this West. I want them to have a kick as vehicle that helps bring out the best quality in them, which will help them rise above the common plebeian American. I do it for the West, because I honestly love America and Europe as a Civilization. I was born in this civilization. I know it can be better and should be better above all other civilizations. But it is sick with a liberal disease, and I don’t mean the political liberalism. It is infested with a sick people who have lost their roots and humanness and natural way of life. They refuse to wake up and grow up.
You can’t wake them up and grow them up. The only real option is to wait for them to die. They only live for 100 years and they die. It is the unborn generations in the West who will manifest and inherit this Western Civilization of ours. Those unborn are my target and audience I speak to and write for. You who are in my future when I am long dead. Don’t let this sickly breed of people destroy your civilization like they have deteriorated everything else they touch. The best thing you can do is to realize that their mundanity and magian ethos is the sickness of this Western civilization of ours. You of the future are the only ones who can right what they have wronged. They have to socially and psychologically be quarantined and left to rot, so that they will take their magian disease with them.
Our most effective group structure we can work on creating with the right tested type of people is Family/Clan. Random membership in some forum or group can and do fluctuate under pressure and boredom. But your father doesn’t ditch you when he is bored or stressed out. Your spouse doesn’t bail out on you [if they truly love you]. You children are still yours in easy times and hard times. With these satanic orders, membership dies off after 2 years because people get bored. What good is that? What good was all the huffing and puffing, debating, and logic and intelligence, the former USSR as a civilization was spewing if it only lasted 100 or so years? And then what?
I figure that a Clan is ONA’s best vehicle to penetrate into the future. By clan I mean blood kin and close friends. To me the word “Folk” and Clan mean the same thing. What do I mean when I say: “How are your folks doing?” I don’t mean how is your race doing. I mean how are your parent doing. Wat do you mean when you meet me and ask me: “Can I ask where you folks come from?” That didn’t mean where do you Asians a lot come from. From Asia duh. It means where do me and my family and friends around me come from. My Folk is my Kinfolk, your Clan. The Clan is ONA best chance of survival into the future because it has the realistic potential to be very conservative with its traditions and culture and it has the extra benefit of having the default means to pass that conserved culture and tradition to its children and grand children. Think about: 1 human lived for at least 90 years. Just have one human dedicated to the ONA, and the ONA will live for 90 years. It’s simple math.
The challenge is to find such a person with the fortitude and endurance and dedication to be ONA for 90 years. How is that done? There are several ways, but the simplest and most plausible way is by breeding. By that I mean by actually and intentionally making babies raised in ONA “Kulture” and Tradition. Then let them pass ONA to their peers and friends in their time frame. The second method is to test people who come to ONA. To test them so as to filter out those with the resolve and dedication DM had. He put in 40 years into this ONA thing. If he can do it then why can’t you or I? What’s he eating that I’m not that makes him special? Nothing. But the important point to consider is that to DM ONA is a personal project. Thus he has a reason to put so much effort and time into it. Which is why I am urging and asking for ONA to be peer based. That way ONA becomes each of our own private projects. This is how I see ONA, and the “secret” of how and why I put in my time and devotion into it. People tend to not want to give something all of their effort and time if it is someone elses work. And nobody has to manipulate me to put in my work because I manipulate myself. I’m just that “evil” and sadistic. I do trick myself into believing that ONA is my personal project that’s how and why I get myself to put in the time and effort. But it’s just a trick I play on myself for the end result. It’s not in my nature to take what is not mine. ONA belong to DM rightfully, until he legitimately gives it to us.
So those are my personal thoughts on a few things that bubbled up. I’m just writing as the thoughts pass by thinking out loud. I think for ONA the best way to go is a small conservative group of associates. It’s not the numbers, but the coherency and conservation of Information, and our ability to give our memeplex all that we have. Our 100% for as long as we have. We already have a small group. That’s all we need. If a few more find their way to us in time that is great. The thing would be for each of us to know that we are seeds of a clan, and that we need to work on gradually manifesting these clans. This takes a long time. No girl can give birth to an entire clan in one life time. The other thing to keep in mind is that if we let ONA be infected with those liberal pigs, our work is wasted because their presence will decompose the coherency of what we have put together. People have to be tested, so we can filter out the pigs from our kind. All we need is a small number of dedicated people and we’re good to go. Fuck those mundanes. Let them have their diseased satanism, and keep them there. If you understand the spirit of this long essay you will know that nothing good [productive] will come out of those mundanes but opinions. They are worthless. Time is then one of our greatest testers. Time weeds out those with no endurance from those with the endurance to go the distance. Time will cause the weak among us to atrophy and fall off the ONA body. If we can refine ONA by having a small coherent group of dedicated associated each following their own dharma, ONA will exist in our future and outlive mundane satanism.
Chloe 352
Order of Nine Angles
2.7.123 yfayen
