Saturday, February 23, 2019

Ask Not for Whom the Siren Sings...

Very busy and stressful times here at Secret Sun Central lately. Looks like there's a momentary break in the torment, so let's take a look at some of the synchro-semiotic insanity washing over the world as of late...

You gotta laugh; it looks like the the Horned and Hidden God got his revenge on poor Robert "The" Kraft for the Los Nephilim Amuns losing the Super Ba'al (or in this particular case, the Stupor Ba'al) to Kraft's New Atlantic Baphomets.

Or is this just more Crypto-Freem ritual humiliation?  Hmm, I'd say it's a toss-up.

Speaking of Crypto-Freem rituals, the big Worshipful Master of them all--the Ausurs®-- is getting all kinds of Pearly this year. 

The cover story is that they're trying to move away from the more traditional (read: "lung-punchingly Masonic") iconography but Sun readers can spot the old "Blue-and-Gold" a parsec away. The "Crystal Cloud" looks suitably Nebula-ous and goes swimmingly with the wave motif.

Interesting how dull and silly all the big rituals have been so far this year, no? That's the price of hegemony, I guess; no one finds your exercises in self-worship interesting or transgressive anymore. Just tedious and embarrassing.

The Grammys were more terrible than ever and the corny, warmed-over swill they're shilling also sounds more enervated than ever before. Lady Gorgon was done up in some weird Vince Neil-circa-Theatre of Pain number and sang that dreary, rudimentary song from A Star is Born, which to my jaded ears just sounds like a Taylor Dayne outtake from 1989.

In fact, everything just sounds old and tired and canned. Mainstream pop has been encased in amber since at least the 90s.

Speaking of failed rituals and tired mainstream pop, did I post about Adam Levine's extravagant Siren tattoo? I know a lot of my eagle-eyed readers noticed it.

Poor guy might have pinched out a major loaf during the Super Ba'al but damn if that fucker doesn't have some seriously impressive ink.

Speaking of sirens, Our Blessed Lady is currently on tour with Massive Attack and Adam Curtis, celebrating the 7+7+7th anniversary of Mezzanine. In fact, just mere hours ago the Sibyl returned to the Millennium Dome to prophesy to the people.

Cue the Signs and Wonders in the Heavens...

...Las Vegas experienced its first snowfalls in many years this past week.

Of course, this fact reminds the Initiates that the first fresh incantation of Our Sibyl and Her Unmercenary Musicians following Heaven or Las Vegas was their celestial rendering of "Frosty the Snowman" in 1992, later included on Snow.


Driving me nuts here already.

Earlier this month, that old serpent the Dragon appeared in the clouds, having been cast from its perch in the Heavens. 

Of course, NASA is confused because those devils are blinded to the Truth as punishment for their transgressions against Heaven and the Saints. 

Getting drunk on abominable cups of filth and adulteries isn't so much fun when the hangover comes. Is it, Mr. Smartie Pants?

Happily. the Initiates are not confused at all;
they remember that the Sibyl prophesied this very event (among several others) when she emerged from her cloistered state late last year to bless her chosen apostles with the traditional Iceland hymn, "Heyr Himna Smiour," which means "Hear, Smith of the Heavens."

Lovely piece, no? Very Sibyl-adjacent; kinda sounds like something off Victorialand.

For reasons I am much too lazy to recount at the moment, Our Blessed Lady has been chosen by the Aeons to play the part of the Woman of Revelation 12, a fact the Initiates are well aware of. You know, signs in the Heavens and so on and so forth.

Ask one of the Elect to explain it, I'm just toast today. Rough month.

But in case your wretched heart is still plagued by the sin of doubt, there was also a Phoenix in the Heavens, or so-called by those NASA devils

More likely it is an Eagle, symbolizing Oannes the Evangelist speaking through the Sibyl, who in turn is foretelling the coming of the Cosmic Logos to free us from Archonic deception and return our souls and spirits to the Fullness.

The Initiates realize all of this was prophesied in the New Hymn of the Pearl, known to the profane and the damned as the official "Pearly Dewdrops' Drop" video.

The Initiates remember that the New Hymn of the Pearl is in fact a prophecy of the Supernova in Dorado so it goes without saying that that a similarly-catastrophic cosmic event has now been observed in Orion, which was also traditionally identified with Pearls.

So, again: when will you believe? 

Soon, I hope.


"Dragon." "Virgin." "Falcon." "The Nine."

Which part of "Space is an Altar" are you unclear on? Post your queries in the comments.

FFS, these two chuckleheads. Enough already.

562 days in a green-screen studio doesn't make you any better than the rest of us, Uncle Fester.

And gah: again with the Newspeak...

And there's a shocker, speaking of Twins. I knew that "HIV immunity" business was horse-cobblers on account of having a functioning cerebellum.

I think he means "they're well on their way" to discovering us. Why do I say such a thing? 

Read this next bit of rubbish here...

...which in turn takes us straight back to...

Hey, I have really bad OCD, too. It takes a mentally-sick obsessive to know one. Or thousands, or whatever. 

I need a nap.

And back to the Atacama Desert for the Diwali-style landing beacon? 

Secret Sun readers expect nothing less, smart little cookies they are.

This is old news but still, this kicked off the month. Shitty, Orwellian show stealing the title of a classic Cure song? Off of Faith, no less?  

If you ask me, that's a damn solid metaphor for life down here in the Black Iron Prison.

Sad news; we here in the BIP lost Monkee Peter Tork this past week. Sunners and Sunsters are well aware that the Monkees-- of all bands-- played a central role in the rise of the Siren and her corollaries...

...witness here.

Of course you are, StyleCaster. Because you're a bunch of soulless vessels too.

Adversaries to whom, exactly? The Vegas, perhaps? 

I thought so.

I know this might seem tasteless to some as we all swelter through another balmy and snowless winter -- the kind infallible experts like Carl Sagan prophesied over thirty years ago-- here in these great United States. But still, I got a chuckle from it.

Finally, I saw this at the B&N last night but haven't gotten a chance to read it yet. 

Since this is New York and all, I'm not expecting anything especially insightful or scintillating, but it is interesting to note that Archonic reality is beginning to disturb even the ceaseless slumbers of mainstream (so-called) journalists.

Hopefully, it's not too late. Pray for our unworthy souls, Sibyl.