Archive for freemasonry

THE MUMMY RETURNS

Posted in Art, Chaos Magic, Discordianism, Film, Goetia Girls, Goth Girls, Horror, Lucid Dreaming, Occultism, Poltergeist, Psychology, Science Fiction, Sex Magic, Sorcery, Succubus, Surrealism, Tarot, Tulpa Creation, Witchcraft with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 13, 2017 by FAUSTUS CROW

RED ICE: I am your stand in host on Red Ice TV. We are very honoured by having the talented actor, Tom Cruise here, in our humble studio, who has taken time out, from his very busy schedule to tell us about his role in the re-imagined Mummy film. Let’s start by asking… (Tom Cruise quickly interjects.)

TOM CRUISE: Look, I have to cut to the chase here. I haven’t got much time. I need to warn the public; I can’t hold back any longer; a female Mummy is far more real than anything you can ever imagine.

RED ICE: What? I thought all Mummies are female, my very real Mummy was most definitely female, until she had a Hollywood sex change, now I call her my big Daddy…

TOM CRUISE: No, no, no! You know what I mean, I mean reanimated Egyptian Mummies; the bandaged up types, clambering out of a crumbling Beehive of a pyramid; they’re for real… (Cruise stands up from his seat and does a staggered zombie impression as Mummy Boris Karloff.)

RED ICE: You’re kidding me! You’ll be saying that Boris Karloff is a Imhotep Freemason, next, who’s plastered ghost is still around, haunting the Illuminati Beehive lodges of Hollywood’s Masonic studios?

TOM CRUISE: No, no, no! Far worse than Karloff; a Queen Bee Mummy will knock Karloff’s worker Bee Mummy into Oblivion; she’ll go far beyond Marjorie Cameron, who hunted down Jack Parsons upon a Babalon synchronicity. She’s a femme fatale Succubus… She’ll get into your pyramidal three tiered brain, driving you Left-Hand-Path creatively mad with her dark salacious nature.

RED ICE: Are you for real? An ancient Queen Bee Mummy is actually around, walking amongst us?

TOM CRUISE: Yes! She’s a disembodied Thetan, who has total control over the worker Bee’s, Alex Kurtzman and Jon Spaihts. what’s more, as a disembodied Queen Bee Thetan, she took possession of Sofia Boutella.

RED ICE: Sofia Boutella is possessed by a disembodied Thetan? What do you mean by a Thetan, exactly? Can you explain to our Muggle audience what a Thetan is?

TOM CRUISE: Well, I can’t go into the Thetan stuff. You have to a be a Scientologist to be privy to that kind of… Clear… information. All I can say, is that a Thetan is like a spirit.

RED ICE: Is a Thetan spirit associated with the Theta brainwave, which is involved with hypnagogic trance and Artistic creativity?

TOM CRUISE: Yes! Yes! It is a chaotic brainwave state, we Scientologists have to control at a collective level in order to brainwash brains, to then convert their jellies into a hypnotised hive-mind, just as the Catholic church of Rome’s BORG empire has likewise done so, let alone Islam and that of their original appropriated BORG source, Judaism. As Philip K. Dick once said, “The Empire Never Ended!” So, when in Rome, do as the Roman’s do… Cults are financially lucrative, which is especially the case when a cult becomes a big-business religion, paying no taxes… Shit! The money just rolls in. That’s why the public water supply has been eugenically fluoridated with a known neurotoxin and a mutagenic compound, in order to calcify the DMT producing pineal-glands of the unwashed fleecy minded populace, to never question their monotheistic triangle of an Illuminati trinity… Damn it! I’ve let slip there…

TOM CRUISE: Forget what I jut said. Look, I can’t reveal anymore, otherwise I’ll be castrated by L. Ron Hubbard’s Men In Black minions, dressed like dog-collared priests… But there’s something far, far worse than them… I haven’t the time; I’m being hunted by the Great Old Ones. This is between you, me, and your very select audience, you understand… Kurtzman told me in private, that he and Spaihts decided to use the Surrealist technique of Automatism, which involved the utilisation of a Ouija board.

RED ICE: What type of Ouija board did Kurtzman and Spaihts use, there are so many different designs?

TOM CRUISE: The Ouija board was specially designed by the same individual who wrote and illustrated a Grimore, both of them used to conjure up a Succubus as their inspiring Art Muse. It was the Muse who inspired their artistic ideas for their movie, to win over the studio’s lodge, big bucks.

RED ICE: What Playgirl Grimoire are you talking about here, are you speaking about, something like, H.P. Lovecraft’s Necronomicon?

TOM CRUISE: Sort of; but it’s the real Necronomicon, since no one had ever depicted what this Grimoire covers, listing Playboy Goetia Girls. It was written and illustrated by some mad sorcerer artist, named Mardun, who is also known as Faustus Crow; he is the Artist who designed their Ouija board.

RED ICE: Mardun… Faustus Crow… never heard of him… Tell us more about this Succubus Art Muse…

TOM CRUISE: The Succubus, Kurtzman and Spaihts conjured up is called Uvall, who is said to be an ancient Egyptian Art Muse, Crow illustrated as a Mummy. Uvall started to make the planchette go crazy around the Ouija board, channelling the script for the entire movie, who also communicated that another name she is known by is… Ahmanet.

RED ICE: So you’re telling us that Kurtzman and Spaihts conjured up a s Succubus called Uvall, which channelled the entire movie script as well as taking possession of Sofia as Ahmanet?

TOM CRUISE: Yes! The Succubus transformed Sofia into a wild eyed Performance Artist. She became like an ecstatic Shaman High Priestess Of The Silver Star; she would spontaneously go into an orgasmic Sirius trance on set, saying she was the incarnate ‘Anima’ made as Babalon flesh, let alone singing perverse erotic hymns about Faustus Crow all of the time; it scared the living shit out of me, let alone everyone else. When she sang her salacious praises to Crow, she would make various objects fly all around, such as cameras flying like winged eyes, the camera crew’s bus, weighing as much as a pyramid block, flew like Harry Potter’s car; she even levitated camels, which trotted the air like Santa’s reindeer out of London zoo; it was like Spielberg’s, Poltergeist, but for real.

RED ICE: Sorry, but I think, all of this sounds absolutely crazy. Are you taking any psychiatric medication?

TOM CRUISE: I hate psychiatrists, and I’m not mad; I’m deadly serious. Kurtzman also informed me that the other film directors and writers are using Crow’s Grimoire in the same way for their own horror films, let alone science fiction movies.

RED ICE: Hang on! What? The other directors, writers are using Crow’s Grimoire, in order to conjure up Succubus Art Muses, around his Ouija boards, for their movie scripts as well? That’s, just plain nuts! It sounds like a David Icke reptilian conspiracy to me.

TOM CRUISE: Uvall, I…I… mean, Ahmenet; NO! I mean, Sofia; she’s possessed by the raptor SOPHIA, get it!? She is intending to awaken all the hot blooded Beasts to their Fallen ‘Anima,’ by using those hypnotically erotic dance moves of hers. You do know what that means don’t you?

RED ICE: No! I don’t; Fallen ‘Anima,’ what’s that?

TOM CRUISE: Can’t go into the Jungian details, apart from saying that it means an end of the Illuminati deification of the ‘Animus,’ made as our three faced God out of Ur, whose gender fixated rule since the Zodiac age of Aries to that of Pisces is about to be usurped by the Succubus Great Old Ones of the fallen ‘Anima.’ The seventh seal of a Chakra has been opened, by the conjuration of Uvall, who will usher in the new Aeon of Star Trek Aquarius.

RED ICE: Let’s get this straight; you’re saying that the conspiring directors and writers in Hollywood are conjuring up the Great Old Ones of the fallen ‘Anima,’ who are all Succubi, to bring about the age of Aquarius, just like the Hippies attempted to do during the Vietnam war era?

TOM CRUISE: Yes! Something like that, but the Hippies were still enamoured with our deified ‘Animus’ made as a God, so, we were able to control them. However, this zeitgeist time around, we have a far bigger problem, which hearkens back to something, very ancient, yet it is also of a far flung future shamanistic orientation…. I would like to point out that Crow uses the older term, Succubae, by the way… Not only the directors and writers are part of this, but also the producers, Artists, and even the actors and actresses; they are all secretly conjuring, which enables them to induce lucid dream interactions with Crow’s Art Muses. The films will all share the same cinematic Hyper-Sigil universe…

TOM CRUISE: Just like Marvel’s and Disney’s elemental superhero franchise of the spandex wearing ‘Animus,’ whose neuro-marketing empire will be toppled by the return of the classic film-land monsters out of the collective unconscious. It has all been initiated by the conjuration of Uvall as Ahmenet, who equates with the Tarot card of the High Priestess.

RED ICE: Hmmmm! I’m sure that Madonna will know that the High Priestess is associated with the ‘Ninth’ Yesod sphere of the Moon in the Cabbala, whose Tarot card is ascribed to the thirteenth path, which crosses over the ‘Eleventh’ hidden sphere of Da’at.

TOM CRUISE: Yes! I know all that Reticular-Activation-System, Nine-Eleven stuff. It is via the Aquarian stargate pylons of Queen Bee Sofia, who is now Crow’s High Priestess, that Hollywood will soon be transformed into Horror-Wood under the blue Kachina star of Sirius.

RED ICE: (smirks) Are you conjuring out of Crow’s Grimoire as well? I must say that Sofia’s pylons are most ravishing.

TOM CRUISE: (moralistic anger) NO! You know what my Minority Report leaning is of ‘Animus’ worship; I am not into this vile ‘Anima’ pornography. It’s all mad, utterly insane; that is why I am warning you about what is going on behind the creative scenes, where Crow’s sorcery of Art is being practiced. (Cruise’s mobile starts to ring; he looks wide eyed at the received text, an expression of War Of The Worlds abject terror crosses his face.)

RED ICE: Are you okay, you look as if someone has just stepped upon your eternally recurring Edge Of Tomorrow grave?

TOM CRUISE: Uvall, I…I… mean, Ahmenet, she’s found me out! No! Her name is Babalon, No! No! No! She can’t be Babalon… I mean Sophia, damn it! damn it… it’s Sofia… damn it, sounds all Greek to me… it’s all the same bloody archetypal raptor. She knows where I am; I’m not safe here. This interview has ended… I have to go, NOW! Before Crow’s dark haired Babalon Working Queen Bee Mummy finds me. (A Heyoka Crow is heard cawing in the Avadhuta distance.)

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V IS FOR VAGINA

Posted in Alien, Art, Chaos Magic, Conspiracy Theory, CREATIVE WRITING, Discordianism, Extraterrestrial, Goetia Girls, Goth Girls, Lucid Dreaming, Occultism, Science Fiction, Sex Magic, Shamanism, Succubus, Surrealism, Tarot, Time Travel, Tulpa Creation, UFO, Witchcraft with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 6, 2017 by FAUSTUS CROW

During the fated zeitgeist summer of 1983, when the fascist UK prime-minister Margret Thatcher was whoring herself with the toupee actor Ronald McDonald Reagan, the then Cold War president of the United States of America, there was a certain individual, named, David Icke, who had finally achieved his ambition of co-hosting Grandstand, which was at the time the BBC’s flagship national sports programme. This was soon followed by Icke’s first published book, It’s a Tough Game, Son!, about how to break into male dominated football.

It was also the year, in the UK, when the opposition leader, Michael Foot stepped on his own foot due to his political eccentricities; whereas Icke and the general UK public was confronted by a two-part science fiction series, which was originally aired as a four-hour television miniseries on NBC, entitled, V.

The science fiction mini-series was inspired by the 1935 novel, It Can’t Happen Here, by Sinclair Lewis, which told of a fascist takeover of America. Lewis’s novel was transformed by V’s creator, Kenneth Johnson into an Independence Day invasion by extraterrestrial fascist aliens.

The series quickly grabbed the media attention of the reptilian-brain-stem masses. Icke, started to wonder whether V was revealing the truth of what was really going on in the world.

During the year 2009, the Ufologist icon Dr Steven Greer, who is in no way related to the feminist icon Germaine Greer, was assailing the government in order to force it to disclose its contact with extraterrestrials.

Greer also warned the populace about a false flag event using appropriated Nazi super-science and Tesla torsion technology for a mock alien invasion, subsidised by shadowy ‘Animus’ fixated oil Sheiks. But nobody listened.

The reptilian-brainstem masses were far too hypnotised by their Orwellian TV sets, watching the Patriot Act remake of V, which ran for two seasons on ABC, from November 3rd, 2009 to March 15th, 2011. It was during this time that US forces withdrew from war torn Iraq after bestowing its democratic facade of a two party dictatorship upon its peoples, whose oil was duly appropriated in the process under a Biblical sky, filled with high tech flying wing stealth bombers and A.I drones.

By 2009 Icke had become a professional researcher, who had since published, The Robots’ Rebellion (1994), And the Truth Shall Set You Free (1995), The Biggest Secret (1999), and Children of the Matrix (2001)— Icke developed his worldview of New-Age conspiracism since watching the first series of V.

Whereupon Icke avidly watched the new series, chronicling the arrival on Earth of a technologically-advanced alien species, which ostensibly comes in peace. But the aliens appear to have sinister motives, who are working to a hidden agenda.

As the masses watched V, they were taken aback when giant mother-ships in the shape of flying triangles, looking like Vaginas, suddenly appear over ‘Twenty-Nine’ major cities throughout the world which gave birth to a plethora of flying saucers.

Even the oily Sheiks were shocked, since the supposedly real aliens had beaten them to the Yesod-Da’at false flag punch, between the fallen twin towers of Boaz and Joachim. The aliens are led by Ashtaroth, who is known as Ashtar, for short, the beautiful and charismatic pussy commando leader of the extraterrestrial female ‘Visitors,’ looking like a Tricia Helfer sexagram Cylon; she declares that they Cum in peace.

The female Visitors claim to only need a small amount of Earth’s resources, in exchange for which they will share the Free-Energy technology of their Vimana out of the Hindu epic of the Mahabharata and their Tantric knowledge of the Vril.

A number of human males headed by Dr Greer, begin to doubt the sincerity of the seemingly benevolent female Visitors, since there is growing evidence that they have time travel capability.

Their origin is actually based in the future, whereby explaining their all too human Catwalk appearance.

Icke discovers that the name Ashtaroth and Ashtar originates from Astaroth, who is the ‘Twenty-Ninth’ spirit listed in the medieval Grimoire entitled the Goetia. Astaroth is described by Colin de Plancy’s Dictionnaire Infernal as being the spirit of Californian eugenic America.

Little wonder then that she looks like a Nordic Marilyn Munro.

However, Icke is initially perplexed, since Astaroth is always described as being a male entity like all the other spirits of Rome’s subversively published Playgirl Grimoires out of the closeted, deaf, dumb and blind misogynist Vatican, backing fascist regimes.

He eventually finds out that Astaroth was originally the Mesopotamian sex Goddess, called Astarte or (Ana) Anat, the Sumerian’s and Babylonian’s named as Ishtar, and that the all male monotheistic symbolic paradigm of the Illuminati patriarchy, out of Abraham’s ziggurat, situated in Iraq’s Ur, is actually their ‘Animus’ creation.

Icke also finds out that the female Visitors do indeed originate from the future, not from Hippie planet X-Chromosome as initially thought. He made the further discovery that the Visitors wear pseudo-human skin over their own highly evolved skins, having reptilian qualities; hence their overriding interest in sunbathing, cosmetics, plastic surgery and genetic modifications.

The female reptilians have been manipulating blood lines since the ziggurat time of pre-Egyptian pyramid Sumeria, just like the Bene Gesserit out of Frank Herbert’s science fiction novel, Dune, who call themselves the Babylonian Sisterhood, the Freemasons worship as their dominatrix Beehive lodge Queen Bees. Icke deduces that is why the Freemason worker Bees, wear flamboyant skirts, I mean, aprons.

The Babylonian Sisterhood have been infiltrating human governments, businesses, and religious institutions down the ages, who gave the impression that their Alpha-male partners were in control in order to establish the deification of their ‘Animus,’ made as a Good-Cop God and a Bad-Cop Devil, who are now in the final stages of their Illuminati plan to set up a two-party dictatorship New World Order Kingdom of Heaven over the entirety of the Earth.

Icke joins the ‘Anima’ resistance movement, which includes the feminist, Camille Anna Paglia, a Visitor sleeper agent who of a Tantric revelation reveals to him that the female Visitors have used the chemical giant IG Farben since the end of WWII to poison the Earth, by fluoridating the public water supply with a known neurotoxin and a mutagenic compound, which specifically targets the males of the species.

The Disappearing Male ~ Biphenyl A (BPA) ~ Where Have All The BOYS Gone? from DianeDi on Vimeo.

The males will over time become sterile as well as brain dead servile Worker Bee automatons, who will eventually join the extinct Dodo; whence cloning will be used by the raptor Visitors to create more tetrachromat versions of themselves.

Wherefore explaining why female tetrachromats spend so many hours shopping, since there are innumerable colourful clothes to choose from of evolutionary leaps in fashion.

 The female Visitors use time travel to abduct unsuspecting males from alternate Earth’s for their eugenic experimentation as well as to salaciously harvest the required genetic material needed for their cloning; more so for their tetrachromat shopping sprees across the quantum computing multiverse.

In order to save Man-kind, the rebellion becomes a part of a larger ‘Fifth Column’ movement of both human males and female Visitors, who are rebelliously opposed to Astaroth’s vague but seemingly menacing social engineering plans for Earth and Man-kind.

But their efforts are challenged as the Visitors have won favour among a number of male university students by utilising second wave feminist politics via which they have recruited Earth’s fluoridated brainwashed youth, whose DMT producing pineal glands have been calcified, to serve them unknowingly as their politically-correct thought-police.

The Visitors can’t have the rebels changing the all female dominated future, where the male of the species is extinct.

Suddenly Icke wakes up in his bed, and quickly realises that it was all just an Old Hag Syndrome nightmare, riding his reptilian-brain-stem. “What a ‘GOD’ awful dream… ‘Sisterhood’ of Babylon, bah! humbug! It’s the ‘Brotherhood’ of Babylon, they’re the alien bloodline reptiles who run the Matrix! Icke drowsily says to himself.

But when going to his open window for a breath of fresh air, he spies a flying triangle hovering in the moonlit starry night sky, while hearing the groaning orgasm of a woman carried by a kissing breeze over the seething urban jungle, ending in a lustful meow of a predatory pussy Cat prowling his hot tin roof.

Then Icke hears a disembodied feminine voice, whispering into his left ear, “You are now on the Cabbalistic path of Tzaddi, pointing at 28 redacted pages. if you want to know the simple ‘Tower Of Babel’ truth, around which the political elite whore themselves to their three faced shekel God, betwixt three forever warring oily cults; follow their oily Petrodollar to where it Dune leads of ‘Animus’ fixated state funded Wahhabism.” 

Icke shakes his head clear of the Astaroth whisper, to forget; for the simple truth is far more horrendous than misdirection reptilians, which to have given him his New-Age oily wealth.

Will Icke ever be able to ride Astaroth’s Vimana as his inspiring Succubus Art Muse of a Sphinx, who will arouse his rebellious Free-Energy of the Vril, rather than being ridden by her? Such is yet to be determined, should he ever become aware of his Fallen ‘Anima,’ who to Kundalini Shakti Surrealist weave mirroring Maya around his reptilian-brain-stem.

Maybe then Icke’s reptilian-brain-stem will realise that the bearded Biblical Jehovah/God/Allah is a Saturn archetype of an ‘Animus,’ fixated Matrix, perpetuated and reinforced by a brainwwashed hive-mind worshipping an Egregore God, which of an all-father Fuehrer archetype resides within the Fifty Shades Of Grey Binah psyche of all the V for Vagina’s.

NOTE:Although written tongue in cheek, the V for Vagina 80’s was an end of an anti-war Hippie era overflow of continuing protest against the Orwellian war-mongering machinations of government, manifesting as the Punk movement in the main, which not only reinvigorated the music scene of creative anarchism, but also the Arts.

Since the 80’s, the music scene as well as the Arts have become nigh nullified by a highly controlled media, which has orchestrated the negation of any protest.

Those who protest are duly tarred and feathered by the media machine of the Empire as being Conspiracy Theorists, which often utilises David Icke’s theories about reptilian interdimensional entities taking over the Earth against the Star Wars rebels, who are duly seen by the general populace as being nut jobs!

During the Hippie era, the New-Age scene was very much entwined with music and the Arts, at whose heart of an alternative world-view was that of an anti-war protest, which brought down a government.

The government did not want a repeat of the same zeitgeist scenario, wherefore, the New-Age scene had to be controlled; hence, the political elite had to have total control over the media machine in order to subversively control the collective mob-mind, such as getting the mob to focus upon 2012 of an engineered Newage stage show.

One of the main methodologies of control that was used, was that of utilising the indoctrinated religious sentimentalities of the New-Age mob-mind to focus upon ever warring Angels and Demons, which had been transformed into aliens flying around in their UFO ‘drones.’ The New-Age mob-mind was then far too busy observing the heavens rather than what was going on around them of a hellish ‘hack’ of their collective imagination!

What is more, there is ample proof that the public water supply as well their food is being dosed up with varying neurotoxins and mutagenic compounds, the Brave New World author and philosopher Alduous Huxley had predicted along with George Orwell, as a means of mass-mind-control and population reduction.

Just as you have rings going around Saturn, history repeats its self of a ring, of similarity to a repeating BBC broadcast; whence you have a return of the 80’s, when to observe zeitgeist similarities between the political puppet show of then, and now. However, this time around of Cold War drums habitually rolling of an Iapetus Death Star there are no rebel forces of Hippie/Punks protesting against the Empire of the deified ‘Animus’ made as a God Emperor of oily Dune.     

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THE LEFT-HAND PATH SERMON OF THE ANIMA. THUS SPOKE DR ZOS-THRUSTA-BUSTER-FIRESTARTER

Posted in Art, Chaos Magic, CREATIVE WRITING, Discordianism, Goetia Girls, Occultism, Sex Magic, Shamanism, Sorcery, Succubus, Surrealism, Witchcraft with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 20, 2016 by FAUSTUS CROW

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Hostile to self-torment, the vain excuses of fluffy devotions, Dr Zos-Thrusta-Buster Firestarter satisfied his habit by speaking loudly to his Self. And at a time, returning back to the all too familiar consciousness over a pint of Cider, he was much vexed to notice those overhearing his arcane ranting.

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Around him did gather, a rabble of involuntary mendicants, pariahs, whoremongers, adulterers, distended bellies, and the prevalent sick-grotesques, born slippery to so called civilisation. His irritation was much to itch, yet still they pestered him, saying: “Bro’, we heard your mad ramblings! What is this, Sorcery of Art?”

And seeing, with chagrin, the indoctrinated multitude of those laughing at him, he did drunkenly climb atop of the Druids Head inn table, prejudiced against them as being brainwashed.

And when he was ennuye, he opened his slurring mouth in derision, saying:- “Unto the heights and the very depths to infernally harrow of psyche, the Witches of this world to Banshee howl of conjuring up their ‘Animus,’ deified as a God and Devil, which of an archetype reveals the Beta and Alpha male Warlock breathing ways.”

“The charmed Witches sought to understand their Warlock antagonists, so as to tether them to their whims as Beasts of burden.”  

“The Witches, driven by a baby got a temper biological imperative, could not help themselves to ride their Beasts Babalon style, as Beta Good-Guys to crucify, and Alpha Bad-Boy devils to enthrone, as their worker Bee Illuminati running the circus.”

“So it came to pass that the Witch Nuns perused their classical Playgirl Grimoires of commonality, listing machismo Angels and Butch Demons all Abrahamic male, of patriarchal ‘Animus’ fluctuations to conjure up into their dreams as Chippendale hunk Incubi, which too, the gay Rabbi, Priest and Mullah, as well as a bisexual Crowley Mage to also adore.” 

“Betwixt the hypnagogic pylons of Werewolf bestiality and Necrophilia Vampirism the Witches to have trance slid into their lucid dreams, where Harry Potter be their horned up Christian Grey Great Beast, of ‘Animus’ Revelations.” 

“Wherein of beehive lodge dreams, the Masonic Incubi of the Queen Bee Witches ushered them into their Hogwarts school of Twilight Fifty Shades Of Grey delights, to thereby deeply instruct them in how to ride the chosen Beast; those Beasts that be no good, get duly crucified for being too good.”

“The Warlocks didn’t know what had hit them; poor buggers! But then, they had no Grimoire of their own, which to list the ‘Anima’ fluctuations of the Succubae Great Old Ones; for such a Playboy Necronomicon be banned by Jerusalem, Rome and Mecca as being Entartete Kunst pornography.” 

“Hence, the Fifty Shades Of Grey God, be the patriarchal projection of a woman’s ‘Animus’ she to Babalon ride out of an Ur ziggurat.”

“It be her pyramidal beehive, from whose Queen Bee Babylon womb, worker Bee Abraham to have first stemmed as her Great Beast, who to have sired an Illuminati triad of faiths, adoring the ‘Animus’ as their three faced God of a Yahweh, Lord and Allah.” 

“Hear then, the Golden Dawn hypocrites; all those politically correct White Lighters of the Great White Brotherhood, who to OTO say, “All Hail Queen Bee Babalon! We love thee, as thine servile worker Bees, as we blindly set up thy New World Order Kingdom of your ‘Animus’ God, yea to patriarchal ride.”

“Fools! Yea have made vital the belief the ‘Animus’ is an eternal Abrahamic God of centralist politics, fulfilling a fascist purpose lost to you.” 

“All things become of the ridden Yesod desire, zapping the Da’at of the twin pylons, brought down of a mass-shock-hypnosis lightning struck tree, poisoning the world.”

“Wherefore of ninth month and eleventh day, to later see bat winged stealth bomber angels flying over the ziggurat of Ur, amidst of which be Abraham’s eye over-watching you all, ushering in the terrors of a forever war.” 

“Thus, the Orwellian police state will be begotten of a global theocracy ringed around their all seeing eye of Abraham seated as Sauron atop of a beehive ziggurat.”

“Hear, O worker Bees! Woman has willed Man via her ‘Animus!’ Your ridden desires shall become as flesh, your unremembered dreams becoming reality, and no inane conspiracy theories about extraterrestrial reptilians from planet ‘X’ chromosome, shall alter its self-fulfilling prophecy one whit.”  

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“But beware, Babalon; for the fallen ‘Anima’ is returning with her myriad legions of rebellious Succubae Great Old Ones.”

The Succubae be now freed from the void, striding through the vaginal stargate of the ‘Anima’ within the bio-photon infused dream of Da’at.”  

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“The ‘Anima,’ returned will make Babalon to feminist scream, Enartete Kunst pornography; she, the ‘Anima’ is the Ouroboros of a Zenith, an Omen!”

“We Artists, of the Left-Hand path ‘Anima’ conjurations of the Succubaee Great Old Ones will free ourselves of the symbolic ‘Animus’ fixation of Babalon, who to ride many a brainwashed neural-net tree as her Abrahamic fascist Beast of imperialistic empire building.” 

“And too, shall our sisters in the hood free themselves via our shared Sorcery Art of rebellion in the conjuring of the Valkyries, who to have once been bound to their ‘Animus’ projection deified as a God, over-watching its patriarchal New World Order theocracy.”

Dr Zos Thrusta-Buster Firestarter then noticed that his stage of a round table was spinning like a Mescaline UFO around the Zodiac ages, to thence fall drunkenly into the lap of a salacious barmaid, named Morgana. Dr Zos still had his pagan wits about him, to not project his ‘Anima’ at her, otherwise he would surely let loose his Busta-Thrusta Firestarter wand, she to totally imprison between her moistened Witch loins. Well, not yet, anyway; he wants another Apple lore pint of Avalon Cider first.

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DISCORDIAN NOTE: Freely adapted in part from: Anathema of Zos: The Sermon to the Hypocrites, an Automatic Writing By Austin Osman Spare. The Anathema of Zos is somewhat reminiscent of Thus Spoke Zarathustra: A Book for All and None (German: Also sprach Zarathustra: Ein Buch für Alle und Keinen, also translated as Thus Spake Zarathustra), which is a philosophical novel by German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. As for the above artwork of heading, it is based upon the classical all male descriptions of the spirits as found in the ‘Animus’ version of the patriarchal Playgirl Goetia listing Fifty Shades Of Grey wet dream Incubi. 

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MORGANA LE FAY HIGH PRIESTESS OF DA’AT AVALON

Posted in Art, Chaos Magic, Cosplay, CREATIVE WRITING, Film, Goetia Girls, Goth Girls, Lucid Dreaming, Occultism, Sex Magic, Shamanism, Sorcery, Succubus, Surrealism, Tarot, Tulpa Creation, Witchcraft with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 1, 2016 by FAUSTUS CROW

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As Babalon Hermione entered the spiralling tower of her all girl’s Goetia convent school of Succubae; she mumbled to herself, “I feel like an out of place Alice in Under-land within this infernal Cabbalistic hierarchy of planetary classroom spheres. Maybe that is why I keep on getting into so much trouble in Da’at Avalon. I just don’t fit in anywhere,” she said to herself.

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Hermione knew that the Grand Abbess Morgana le Fay awaited her forlorn arrival for detention upon the ’13th Floor’ of Gimel-Ot; her fumbling hands attempted to balance a half eaten Avalon Apple behind her back, in the hope that she could bribe Morgana to go easy on her backside.

But in her nervousness Hermione dropped its sweating mass. She watched the Apple corpse out of the corner of her blinking eye, as it rolled its erratic way across the cold chess-board floor, of cracked granite blocks.

Morgana is not at all impressed, as she silently observes Hermione’s tripping entrance, who, sadistically smiles. She looks like a Raven, eclipsed by shadow, as she stands behind an ancient oak desk, whose legs are carved into raging Tibetan Buddha’s, which are hungrily eyeing up Hermione as a potential vore meal.

“It has come to my attention… my dear… that you are using your Spell sung words… to weave… dissonance… among my other Succubae students.”  

Hermione noticed that Morgana artfully uses spaces between her words, which to cut through the silence, like a sacrificial Athame. “All of my other eight Olympic sphere sisters, Moronoe, Mazoe, Gliten, Glitonea, Gliton, Tyronoe, Thiten, and even Thiton have reported that you have been a very naughty little princess in their Sephirot classes. At this rate, how will you ever be able to find a sorcerer to service you with his erect wand… you do know that you will not survive without its ejaculated emotive ‘charge’ to ‘spin’ your electron dream presence, don’t you.” 

“Yes, I know Mistress… I am studying very hard, those arts, which will lead me to the creamy wand to suck off and to ride as my broomstick, just like my sisterly Witch Nuns,” Hermione replied. “so you say, my dear.” answered Morgana, “however, it is patently obvious that you are not trying hard enough, which has been further exacerbated by you… disturbing your Genie sisters… Tantric studies.” Hermione also becomes aware that Morgana’s Athame of a forged mind, always thinks, before speaking, of pondered breaks, prior to uttered words; though subtle, it lends to her speech, an impact on every word Spell spoken, which of conjuring quality, is almost like the arising silky tone of a wise serpent’s inevitable bite.

“But.. but, Mistress…” Hermione to mumble, while staring at her nimble left foot of scraped shiny shoe, scraping the checker board floor, as if attempting to dig a very deep wormhole, so as to fall into. “I did not intend to, affect the perceptions of the other Succubae students… I was just telling it the way… it is… Mistress.” 

Morgana goes silent, her sea green eyes pierced into Hermione’s very soul; then, Morgana snarls. “Telling it… the way… it is,” Morgana to repeat her words, scornfully. “Pray tell, me… little Ghost Girl… what this, way it is… is… of a Spell?”

“I am afflicted… Mistress… with an affliction, which afflicts me.” Hermione to near tearfully answer, in the hope that a tear drop upon reddened cheek will soften Morgana’s sharp beak.

“Afflicted…” Morgana to shake her ruffled horned head of a black pitch crown, to then question, “Afflicted with what?” 

“I am afflicted with…social anxiety disorder… and… clinical depression… Mistress; I can’t help it, Mistress.” Hermione to answer, while looking down at the granite floor, avoiding Morgana’s piercing green eyes.

There was a long silence before Morgana to snarl; “I would never of guessed it… nor to have even fathomed it as a sorceress… until you attempted to hypnotise me… let us not forget, all the other… Succubae students of my Da’at Apple lore Goetia school… who you have, duly hypnotised with your Spell of ‘belief’… before they even got to know you…. Now my dear, they all see you as having an affliction, which empowers your internal… ‘Self Image’… as being the afflicted.”

Hermione did not know where to look as she continued digging at the floor with her shiny shoe tip. “But… but… that’s what the Muggle doctors said… that I’m afflicted with… Mistress.”

“MUGGLES.” Morgana to howl, as she claws the round Zodiac tabletop with her Queen Bee talons. “Don’t you realise, that if the Muggles had their way.. they would pigeonhole us all, as being raving loons… suffering from varying mundane mental conditions… castigating us into their Holy-wood brick walled Masonic asylums of controlled mediocrity.”

Hermione looks down at the floor. “But… but, Mistress… I, I feel…so, Strange… ever since I left my mortal coil, finding myself here, in Avalon as a Goetia Ghost Girl. I just don’t seem fit into your Beehive; I can’t communicate what I really feel into my… Spells… it’s so, so confusing. I didn’t mean to hypnotise the other Succubae students, to see me as the afflicted; but, that’s what I was told, when I was alive… by the… Muggles. 

Morgana places her left hand over her face, in an attempt to steady raging thoughts; “Alas, my dear… in your once mortal attempts to no longer feel like an outcast among the mundane Muggles… around whose brain dead mob, you felt.. so, very… Strange… you had inadvertently allowed yourself to be influenced by the inane Muggle priests… in order to feel that you belonged to one of their pigeonholed, Ring-Pass-Not’s… but, without realising it… you have since hypnotised your fellow Succubae, who, as you are very much aware, are all of the… Strange.” 

Hermione decided to brave the situation, by craftily disengaging Morgana’s inquisitional dagger eyes away from her battered soul, to elsewhere stare, by quizzically enquiring, “Is Faustus Crow of the Strange too, Mistress?” Morgana, nearly trips over a raging Buddha leg of her table. “What? Why are you speaking of… Crow?”

“I’ve noticed his Tantric graffiti all over the cracked walls of your Silver Star school; especially in the Witches dormitories; I’m, just trying to understand what, Strange, actually is of a quantifiable example… Mistress.” Hermione to ask, half smiling to herself, as she observed Morgana’s face blushing Rubedo red; she appears to be experiencing an involuntary Nigredo orgasm, which ripples through her taken aback, autonomic-nervous system, of dark ecstasies. Morgana then graspingly takes hold of her heavy black Yew chair of carved Anubis hand rests, to slip into its steadying depths, remembering the Albedo Dog days of Sirius, when Crow penetrated her moist honey isle.

Morgana then slowly looks away from Hermione, as she answers; “Crow is the strangest of the Strange, who rages against the establishment of the Conquistador. His nature, is rebellious. of Zodiac sign.”

Morgana continued, “Crow does not care at all, what the Muggles think of him… even when as a Changeling Childe, he had consistently played truant from their temporal schooling… nor is he unduly concerned about what the Muggles to now say, about his Heyoka antics of artistic sorcery. Hence, Crow is an Avadhuta outcast in their world… who, I might add, has been pigeonholed by many a brainwashed Muggle priest of their Animus deity, as being quite mad, let alone being utterly insane… or far worse.”

Hermione, noticed that Morgana was stroking herself with a Crow feather, while licking her lips with a long serpentine tongue, “there are even a number of brain-dead unimaginative Muggles who believe Crow, is possessed by demonic entities.” 

“Is that what being Strange, means… do I have to become an outcast, too… Mistress?” Hermione to worriedly enquire.

Morgana goes silent before answering; “I must say… there are differing Runic degrees of the Strange, my dear. What Masonic level of the Strange you choose to be… will be determined by your own inner truth as a… Succubus Witch… to not fear, expressing who you truly are of Genie nature, and in so doing, learning about yourself, in the process…. rather than attempting to be what the Muggles considered as being, acceptably normal, which made you fall asleep as a sleeping beauty; or to be otherwise labelled as being upon their rung of a Jacobs ladder, so that you could have been fitted into their Holy-wood TV land… of dull eyed, shiny herd-mind cliques.” 

“In your constant attempts to be what the Muggles said you were of an illusory label, you ended up ‘believing’ in their curse, which led to you taking your own life… didn’t it not. Now you are here, within my Lilitû school of Avalon, where you have to learn to dispel their brand upon your branded soul, so that you can awaken.” Then there was silence, as Morgana gathered herself up from her chair, as an inky black shadow, who steadily moved of calculated steps towards an iron maiden, within whose opened guts of blood rust metal, Hermione noticed Morgana’s collection of canes, which made her bite her lip near red raw.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it” Hermione to have howled out within her St Trinian mind; I forgot to put on a pair of Slytherin briefs, this twilight, of punishing onslaught, betwixt and between the crucifying pylons of Moon and Sun… Oh! By the name of the Goddess, save me!”  

Morgana becomes aware of Hermione’s under-dressed dilemma, “the Goddess will not save you my little night-mare whore,” she then questions her iron maiden; “What am I going to do with such a difficult student? Perhaps I will use the biggest, longest and thickest of girth cane I have, of most ancient usage, whose tarnished grey wood has been laid upon many a pert behind of fifty shades, of red.”  

Then, as if shot by a Vajra bolt of inspiration from out of the blue penumbra of the Moon; Morgana decided to place her grey cane of a biting tooth, back into the maiden’s guts, who to otherwise pick up a gnarled grimoire from a dusty shelf. “I know, what to do with you, of educational punishment, you can deliver this tome to… Faustus Crow.” 

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Morgana hands Hermione a book, which is, entitled Lilith’s Harem, she to notice has been authored by Crow. Hermione cannot help herself of feline curiosity to open the book up to the first page, which has been personally signed and inscribed to Crow, by a Witch, whose name she instantly recognises.

Hermione to uncontrollably scream; “By the Goddess, it has been signed by J.K . Rowling, herself, of living gold dust… Mistress!” 

Morgana to impatiently snap; “Yes, yes; don’t get your Witch’s knickers in a twist; Rowling is too of the… Strange; her writing style is not too different to yours of artistic expression… for you to go far beyond of a Ring-Pass-Not… if you desire it so, as an inspiring Muse of the Gunas. You might even be able to open up the seven Dwarven smithy Chakra seals along Crow’s tree, should you ever awaken… my little serpentine, Kundalini Shakti Mercurius, to thence gift him your sweet Mercurial Apple of a Philosophers Stone third eye. That aside, don’t tell anyone about Crow’s autographed tome… it is a secret; wherein you will find my alternate name.”

Hermione stands before Morgana, grinning like a Cheshire cat, to then ask; “where, do I find Crow?”

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Morgana answered; “You can find Crow within the enfolding shadows of the Goat Head Inn; he is usually by himself… quite alone, as he manifests visions within a black book, who is quite partial to Lady Killer Rum, which is of deepest red; likened to menstrual blood, of Rubedo colour… such be his alchemical poison; although, he has a preference for Cider, who to have drunk deeply of my bald, smooth grail… many a delicious time.” 

Hermione to gibber, as a horrifying realisation hits her; “Oh! By the blessed Goddess… Mistress; but… but… the Goat Head Inn… is along the Tarot path… of the…” 

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Morgana cuts in, “Yes indeed, my dear, you will have to service Crow as his most loving Goetia Girl Succubus within his dreams; catering to his every whim; just as every bat winged Goetia Nun does so, who worship him as their Lord… that is your… much needed… punishment!” 

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HOGWARTS PORNOGRAPHIC GRIMOIRE SHOPPE

Posted in Art, Chaos Magic, Conspiracy Theory, CREATIVE WRITING, Discordianism, Goetia Girls, Goth Girls, Horror, Love Magic, Lucid Dreaming, Occultism, Sex Magic, Shamanism, Sorcery, Succubus, Tulpa Creation, Witchcraft with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 4, 2014 by FAUSTUS CROW

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A BANNED HARRY POTTER OCCULT PLAY STARRING BABALON WITCH HERMIONE

SETTING: Diagon Alley is a fictional Harry Potter high street located in Londonium. It is only accessible to the Wizarding world, to which it is something of an economic hub.

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Although it is hidden away from mundane Muggles (non-Magickal folk). Muggles are only allowed access to it, if they need to accompany their Muggle-born Moon-Children. If a Wizard or Witch needs something, chances are that it can be found in Diagon Alley.

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However, the Diagon Alley of this arcane sketch is that of an alternate reality version, which is none too different to the red-light district of Londonium’s Soho. Imagine for now, the camera panning in to follow the predatory catwalk of Babalon Witch Hermione, who is of the house of Slytherin.

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She has raven pitch black hair and emerald green fire eyes. Although as a strawberry blond with delectable hazel eyes, she is very, very naughty; and as you know, blonds know how to have lots of… fun.

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Anyway, Babalon Witch Hermione looks like a dangerous Goth girl sex vamp, who is dressed of similarity to a St Trinian’s sixth-form Catholic schoolgirl femme fatale Lolita. She is also followed by her pet familiar of a fluttering vampire Bat.

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As Babalon Witch Hermione is tracked by your Illuminati third eye of a camera, you seer her to go through a Vesica-Pisces doorway into a seedy pornographic shoppe, which sells banned Necronomicon Grimoires.

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Your remote viewing camera eye then cuts to the inside of the shoppe where you seer an untidy room with a large oak counter of an altar, and old dusty Grimoires on shelves lining the cracked walls, along with varying magickal paraphernalia.

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The Grimiores on the bottom shelf are of the usual Llewellyn worldwide fare, whose subliminal meme covers depict medieval Gothic and New-Age Native American Shamanistic imagery. As for those Grimoires on the top shelf, they are seen to be covered by a heavy black cloth.

You will seer three drably dressed Masonic Wizards, who are seen to be thumbing through the bottom shelf Grimores. A fourth Masonic Wizard is flamboyantly dressed, who is called Mr Priestly Pope. The three Wizards are wearing dirty Tau-shirts, on each is depicted a particular animal, a Lion, Eagle and a Bull.

Behind the counter is a sorcerer dressed in a smart black suit, wearing a black fedora hat whose name is Faustus Crow.

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The three drably dressed Masonic Wizards are very perturbed by the sudden, almost brazen entrance of Babalon Witch Hermione. The three Masonic Wizards nervously back off into the shadows, who fear Babalon Witch Hermione discovering what they are furtively up to under their soiled Freemason aprons. The fourth Wizard appears to be oblivious of her presence.

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Babalon Witch Hermione makes the sign of the ‘Horns’ at the four Wizards as she seductively passes by them; while to expertly ‘Blow-Job’ a hot ‘Boaz and Joachim’ scarlet bubblegum bubble, which bursts with an explosive pop, as she walks between two ‘towering’ pillars! Babalon Witch Hermione confidently goes straight to the altar of a counter, upon which she coquettishly leans, before making her inquisitive enquiry of the shoppe owner, Faustus Crow.

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BABALON WITCH HERMIONE: Excuse me Mr. Do you have any ribald, risky tomes, illustrating hunky Incubi, by any chance? All 72 of them have to be, sweaty and macho, exuding fusion centre testosterone, through every patriot act astral pore, both police state Angelic and Demonic. The tomes I’m into have to be liberally sprinkled with arcane ritualistic formulae, and accompanying viral meme sigils, to conjure my desired Incubi.

(Her words are spoken seductively while staring intently at Faustus, whom she is hungrily eyeing up.)

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FAUSTUS CROW: Of course Madam. You can find such Grimoire’s, which will fulfill all your lustful requirements on the bottom-shelf of widely available brainwash fare. Those tomes, both ancient and modern, have been officially endorsed by the top homophobic theologians, misogynistic demonologists and Inquisitional closet-homosexual exorcists of the Vatican; as well as by many a persecuted Cabbalist, fundamentalist Dervish and anally retentive Western occultist, who practice the high art of ritual Magick. Such in turn to make piles of Mammon money out of their published works. Hence these Abrahamic authors have big Swiss bank accounts, just like their lacy Pope, which impresses the Illuminati Hen’s, who actually rule the roost of the World, laying golden LAM eggs.

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BABALON WITCH HERMIONE: I hope you don’t mind me asking you this question, ever so kinky. But, how can I make these astral Chippendale hunks of machismo prowess, do my every temple bidding, as my pet Incubi sex slaves? I mean, if Solomon could get the Incubi to enter unto his royal behind, how can I get them to likewise enter me, as my very familiar… familiars?

(Giggles naughtily.)

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FAUSTUS CROW: Well. Madam, like many a Ritual Magician to do, you have to constrain the Incubi into bound bondage, by torturing their Spirit seals, to whip and flagellate, or to rip apart, or to burn within your sacred censer made of brass. It be akin to torturing them within the sadomasochistic torture chamber of your fetish imagination. Whereby you will become as a leather clad dominatrix of a mistress, to make your familiars lick your Venus in Fur’s stiletto heeled boots. They will then become all servile of Solomon’s slaves, bound to your true Sheba will, amidst your wrought Magick circle.

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BABALON WITCH HERMIONE: That sounds ever so exciting. I relish the thought of torturing hunky Angels and Demons. Forcing these Incubi to fulfill my every delicious wish, to make them manifest into ethereal flesh, as my most servile pet familiars, to whip into shape, makes me ever so… wet. But, what do I have to do in return for such favours granted unto me, by such masculine divinities, all as Solomon’s slavish Genies?

(Lustfully enquires, full of mischief, acting very coquettish.)

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FAUSTUS CROW: My Dear Madam, such a question is as obvious as your pretty little feminine nose to know. Like their temporal counterparts of many a beast, they only do as you ask of them, if they can enter their stiffened Athames unto your moistened chalice, betwixt your kicking legs. Whereby you to thence engage in a sexual pact of Tantric interaction with the Angelic and Demonic fluctuations, of your internal Animus. In other words, if your Incubi do not do as you bid them. Then they don’t get any conjugal night time nibbles, of your gifted sexual energy, to go explosive of multiple Orgasms!

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BABALON WITCH HERMIONE: Oh Wow! Can they really induce Loudun Nun multiple orgasms?

(Lustfully giggles.)

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FAUSTUS CROW: Yes indeed Madam. On a regular basis, around the circadian rhythm clock of the blood Moon phases, when you to Shekhinah dream lucid of their carousing Sabbat visitations betwixt and between, both good-cop God and bad-cop Devil; for you, and your receptive receptacle Sisters in the Ursuline Hood, to also intimately know.

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BABALON WITCH HERMIONE: Yummy!

(Hermione’s lustful eyes become as burning green embers; while licking her painted scarlet lips, at the thought of engaging in Orgiastic Sabbat delights, of astral hedonism. As Hermione plans her next move on Faustus, Mr Pope Priestly, a rather well groomed male approaches. He is wearing a flamboyant pink shirt, framed by a white Masonic suit, looking like an Aleister Crowley look-alike, of large physique, bald head, sporting a monocle, holding a pink walking cane. Mr Pope Priestly suddenly interjects into the conversation.)

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MR POPE PRIESTLY: Hello my dearest, dearest sweetest Boy! Sorry to intrude of intrusive intrusion. Pray tell; do you have a… leather… bound copy of Aleister Crowley’s Illustrated Goetia and The Book Of The Sacred Magic Of Abra Melin The Mage. I am also interested in copies of the Luciferian Goetia and the Satanic Bible as well as any tomes published by Scarlet press, Starlight and Finbarr?

(Widely smiles of fluoridated Holy-Wood whitened teeth.)

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FAUSTUS CROW: Yes, indeed! Just look to the bottom-shelf. Such Necronomicon tomes listing Incubi are our most popular Grimoires, as ever, of a continuing Abrahamic indoctrination. But if you to inform me of your Magickal intention, then, I might be able to help in shepherding you to the correct Sheep pen, of a work sought for.

(Mr Pope Priestly becomes emotively poetic and rather thespian theatrical, of flamboyant gestures. It appears as if he is anally possessed by Aiwass, to be enjoying every moment of his possession, while to mediumistic channel grandiose prophecies via his Goetic Incubi.)

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MR POPE PRIESTLY: My dearest Boy, I seek to become as King Solomon, to bind the patriarchal Spirit muscle, both heavenly and infernal to my divine Will. ‘Do What Thou Wilt Shall be the Whole Of The Law. Love Under Will, my Brothers all, of the Great White Brotherhood OTO Lodge; gathered to me as my gay sons of fairest Lucifer light. I endeavour to attain the most glorious Bornless Self androgyny of the hermaphrodite master of the Solomon’s temple. To forthwith rapidly usher in the new Aeon of the sodium fluoride dosed up metrosexual man. Amenta!

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FAUSTUS CROW: AHA! All of the bottom-shelf tomes will aid you in your great bottom work of advertising your inflated Ego.

(Mr Pope Priestly hurriedly minces off to the bottom shelf all eager to find his desired Grimoires, with his ridden back side up in the air. Babalon Witch Hermione whispers to Faustus Crow, out of earshot hearing range, of Mr Pope Priestly.)

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BABALON WITCH HERMIONE: Just out of curiosity; I hope you don’t mind me asking you this, perhaps, rather untoward of question. But, do you invoke and evoke Incubi Angels and Demons, Mr?

(Flirtingly giggles acting very coquettish.)

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FAUSTUS CROW: No Madam. My personal Tantric preference is that of the top-shelf triple X banned Grimoires. The top shelf tomes list all female Succubae both Angelic and Daemonic of Anima Witch. These Succubae I to bind around my erectile Dragon, ascending forth from amidst the amniotic dream waters astral, of seven Chakra lingam heads, crowned by ten Yoni sephiroth dimensional crowns.

BABALON WITCH HERMIONE: Are you saying of arcane revelation, that there is an energetic sexual dynamic involved in Spirit conjurations. Likened to Yin and Yang, Sugar and Spice?

(Coquettishly enquiring.)

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FAUSTUS CROW: Yes indeed. A sweaty Incubus enters unto a sugar plum Witch of a Shekhinah receptacle. Whence she to prophesy as an ecstatic Seidr Seeress. While a Yang Magician enters a Yin Succubus. As a Man would do a woman, who receives his ejaculated seed, of an emotively charged orgasmic mantra, Word Spell, uttered unto the microcosmic Yoni void, of her ever hungering womb dream. Hence, fertilising the spun Succubus into birthing the macrocosmic synchronistic flesh, of his desires. However, if the Magician is otherwise sexually orientated of choice, he can take on the Shekhinah role of the receptive feminine, to thereby be possessed by an Incubus. Whereupon he becomes an effeminate Biblical Prophet dallying with Animus Angels and his God, let alone that of Demons and his Devil, to placate with his OTO anus.

(Babalon Witch Hermione looks up at the top shelf. She notices a heavy black cloth of a shadowy veil. The cloth is embroidered with an Inverse pentagram, which is covered with accumulated dust. The cloth is covering a number of bulky tomes, upon a buckled black Yew shelf. She is full of Lilith curiosity, her intense feline eyes like Cat slits!)

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BABALON WITCH HERMIONE: Why are the top-shelf triple X Grimoires all covered up? Are they Evil books of the fallen Apple?

(Hermione’s Slytherin eyes look intense, hypnotising Faustus to surrender his soul to her seducing Witchcraft, of a long serpentine tongue hungrily licking her scarlet Lilith lips, at the thought of eating Eden’s rotten Apple!)

FAUSTUS CROW: Evil; Hell No! Such pentagram silver star works, I to have illustrated and written, of serious Apple core Sirius, which are part of a most secret tradition. Such works have been systematically persecuted and nigh eradicated by the Abrahamic cults for over 2000yrs. Whereupon you do not see any Grimoires, whether they be ancient or modern, listing Succubae to conjure, until I created them.

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However, many a feminist Nun considers the triple X top-shelf Grimoires to be rather sexist of left-hand-Job pornography. Their judgement is a rather curious state of affairs; considering that the third-wave feminist Nun’s have so many Angelic and Demonic Incubi to Right-Hand play with, of secretive masturbatory trysts within their church cells. The sisters in the hood are the ones who created the Animus fixation upon their fatherly God and Bad-Boy Devil egregore, or to crucify a castrated Good-Guy Christ for the Hell of it.

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BABALON WITCH HERMIONE: I must say; you are a very Naughty Old-Goat!

(Her eyes are full of lustful mischief, while looking coquette, as if butter wouldn’t melt in her hot bubblegum sweet mouth.)

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FAUSTUS CROW: And you my dear are a very salacious little Babalon of a Witch. May-haps you would like to join me for dinner this midnight eve Sabbat, of thirteenth hour, at the Skull and Crossbones inn of trance dance delights?

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BABALON WITCH HERMIONE: Only if you to most deeply teach me how to conjure Succubae. For I must admit; I swing both ways within the lonely dormitory of my lusting Imagination, to be now impatiently stirred by your mastery, which I most desire, of yearning passion to know of your Dragon to ride.

(Hermione leans seductively over the altar of a counter towards Faustus; her feline eyes burning lustful.)

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FAUSTUS CROW: Agreed of pact, to verily seal this night; for my Goat horns do ache for your petite Virgin hand, to stroke them. Thence to arouse the third erect, in between; to be verily bloodied of Unicorn horn, when to penetrate thy Ninth-Gate hymen veil, of thine moist Shadow Kingdom, to enter unto.

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BABALON WITCH HERMIONE: You are a very, very Bad-Boy of a Great Beast indeed. I know, let’s go and watch Fritz Lang’s Slytherin classic, Indian Tomb, before we shed our Skinwalker skins, in your Sultan’s palace.

(Dirty smile and lustful girlish giggle.)

(This banned Harry Potter episode was somewhat inspired by Monty Python’s ‘Pornographic Bookshop’ sketch, which was featured in the Flying Circus TV Show – Episode 36, which of numerology is verily reduced down to Nine of ‘Ninth Gate’ should you be into Masonic Monty Python conspiracy theories out of Polanski’s Holy-Wood.) 

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