Monday, November 21, 2005


By Friedrich von Hardenberg

"One always hates to be shaken, because it involves getting unstuck from the comfortable rut where one has been for too lonog. But it's always, ultimately, a good thing, because it reactivates you; it makes you live again. To be unshaken is to die while living. When one is on one's death bed, one does not remember the years spent living in a comfortable rut. One remembers the times of being shaken."
- Grekmann the Wise

This is why I can't stand peacniks. It's because they are all a bunch of hypocritical liars. I guess I have some sort of thing about hypocritical liars.

Peaceniks are like a bunch of cows in a herd. EVERYBODY has to be on EXACTLY THE SAME vibe. As soon as there is the slightest discordance, the instant someone expresses any uniqueness whatsoever, EVERYBODY tweaks. The whole herd gets that spooked out look in its eye, but instead of bolting like cows do, they hypocritically attack the unique individual.

Now, in order to attack the unique individual, they have to be passive aggressive. Otherwise they would have to admit they are attacking. Since they don't "believe" in attacking, they can't view themselves as the attackers. So what do they do? They attack, passive aggressively, accusing the Unique One of being the attacker, attacking him, with all the self righteous "indignation" they can squeeze out of their passionless bodies.

Here is an example. This ugly peacenik bitch wouldnt shut up about her lying, cheating scumbag of a husband. Everyone kept telling her to get him to talk about his feelings and inadequacies, to "spend quality time with her family" and to be mutually supportive and stupid bullshit like that. This is what she expected to hear. She expected everyone to feed into her attention seeking behavior, reinforcing her behavior of never shutting up about what a stupid, ugly, undesirable twat she was.

So what did I do? Contrary to what people might think, I don't go around looking for trouble. Ask grekmann. He just told me I hate it when all this catharsis starts busting out all over the place, even though it's a good thing. No, 90% of the time I'm going out of my way to be as tame as motherfucking possible.

But in this case, I just got sick of listening to this stupid twat bitch repeatedly about the same shit over a series of several fucking months. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and I offered some advice.

"Look bitch," I told her. "The truth is, you don't want to be happy. All you want is something to bitch about. Even if your dumbass liar of a husband wasn't retarded, you'd find something to bitch about. I have an idea, why don't you either do something to make your life better or shut the fuck up?"

So I went into the whole list of things she could do to make herself more attractive to her husband so he wouldnt fuck her sister or her friends who were less ugly than she was. Stop being a fat pig, bitch. Wear makeup. Shave once in awhile, for christ's sake. Shut the fuck up once in awhile. Give him a fucking unearned blowjob once in awhile and kick him some threesomes.

Well, apparently these bovine bitches think that her troglodyte husband was banging her sister, because it afforded him the opportunity to have long, drawn out conversations about his inadequecies. They acted like I was the one who was talking some sort of fucked up shit. Fuck those stupid twats.

Then you have the recent flap over the photo I sent in to the pagan group. Apparently it jolted someone with a discordant vibe. Now, they are all settling back into their vegetative state, agreeing with each other about everything (mainly that, somehow, I was the one creating a disturbance, and that, at somepoint, I was the one "engaging in personal attacks") and everything is going back to socially casual.

I feel like I'm back in Sunday School, or NEW Lutheran High. At least those lying bitches fucked with passion, not self righteous depravity. Not to mention that they shave, wear makeup, and shit like that. Hell, I might as well be in church.

So, guess what, peaceniks. I'm sick of that bullshit. Yes, I am a bad person inside, a dirty rotten scoundrel, an unscupulous rascal and a rapscallion. But at least I'm not a lying hypocrite. And at least I'm not a fucking vegetable.


Sunday, November 20, 2005


By Friedrich von Hardenberg

What's up with Pagans? When this shit first really started getting rolling with Paganism it pissed me off. When I said Paganism, I was always referring to the Ancient Greeks, a culture of people who had balls and weren't a bunch of hypocritical liars.
Greek culture was based upon the Greek Agon, the contest of wills between equally matched opponents. It was based upon the idea of excellence. Like Sisyphus pushing his rock up the hill, we all voluntarily want to make ourselves grow stronger. It feels good.
But now, when people say "Paganism," what do they mean? They mean WICCA, which is a total bullshit religion promoted by university professors. As an authentic Superfreak of the Lineage of Cain, this disgusts me.
What disgusts me even more are the experiences I have with these so-called "Pagans." Most recently, I Posted a photograph to an ostensibly Pagan email group, which was met with extreme horror and disdain, as a result of its feartured titty.
This is my experience with "Paganism" in a microcosm. Pagans are all a bunch of dumbass liars who might as well go to the dumbass Presbyterian church down the road.
They're even afraid of nudity these days.
Let's examine this photo, which can also be seen here. It is an artistic expression of my subjective experience with the Pagan group to which I sent it. It signifies greatness, and the aesthetic power of women, encompassed by nature.
Here we see two powerful, beautiful women, on a mountaintop, as if hallowed by Gaia herself; one of them has fired an arrow, and the other seems to have caught it. This brings to mind the Zen ritual in which one catches the arrow fired at one, and I viewed it as an oblique reference to the Amazons of the real Pagan culture, back in the ancient mediterranean.
We see the wind in their hair, and their bodies exposed, unashamed, and illuminated by the sun, the most holy of orbs. They stand unafraid, looking off into the distance, as if engoddened. They embody the full sublimity and dynamism of womanhood. Hand in hand, they represent the mystical bond of all women, and by extension, the promotion of that very matriarchal world-view ostensibly espoused by these so-called "Pagans."
But what do these shrivelled up old fucking crones see? NUDITY! GOD fucking forbid, right? "Our children might see that!"
Well, go fuck yourselves, hypocritical liars. Go ahead and shield your children from all beauty if you want. Go ahead and condemn the free personal expression of others. Flee nature in terror. But you needn't leave your neighborhood Presbyterian church to do so. I tried to go along with your halfwitted stupidass bullshit religion, but you make it impossible.
In short, take your dry, shrivelled up twats and go fuck yourselves.