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nevaeh ot yawriats

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Jan. 30th, 2014 | 11:41 pm

The song begins with a self-referential compel, inviting you to discover the knowledge not-so-hidden to you, the listener, any longer.  Conversely, at the end of the enchantment the lyrics will implore the following revelation to remain a secret: "shushed," thusly inviting the easy dismissal of the "reversed" song that is so welcomingly-discoverable with only the simple decision to listen.
"Play (it) backwards,
Hear why 'tis sung here, oppositioner...
All on track, all arriving
They all sing, and they are one.

An epic hymn of Sorrow and Hegelian Geist, we are moved through three stages of a Revelation culminating in a hidden Gnosis by which it is hoped to shift the paradigm of how we see the Church at the lowest level; to facilitate the conceptualization of (musical, at minimum) communication at the intermediary level; and to grok the greater Knowledge (that the devil is not the bad guy [neither is jesus] and that Satan is really a hero and it's all just math anyway so stop being afraid you fucking coward sheep fuck) at the apex of its greater Logick.

All Hard Rock and Roll developed from a progression of the emotional dissonance of the Blues (and similar musical derivations) directly caused by the "what has been seen cannot be unseen" Law of Intelligence that had begun to plague the War business a hundred years before the decline of Colonialism and the rise of banking Imperialism masked as the pre-ColdWar post-McCarthy (still) fighting the Communists era.  Not only was the footage now in color and beaming from a wider variety of places than a single smoky Film parlor, the draft was returning our exponentially-unwilling male populace home tattered, twisted, disenfranchised, limbless, and programmed out of the world that isn't even the same as it was four-to-eight years after they left.
"Shall I learn you now, parishoner?
Oh hear Him, Christian within me.
It stirs my sin; the river,
Oh, she swells with our lousiness.
All my life will end for him?

This song begins with our implied death, on the battlefield, in the trench; static loops of chord like bullets from every angle.  The vocals steady you, though: everything has been planned.  Your death is the same as everyone else's, and we all arrive here,  You are now part of the chorus,



"We're all out of signs,
I know I'm sorta shocked
To hear The Lord,
My God now will save me!"

 The pre-coldWar death-to-colionalism era from which erupted caught a chord with both the disenfranchised newly-hyper aware public in the Vietnam epoch, the pain of the veteran, and the children of the veteran, is perhaps no better encapsulated here- like the death of the gods in GOTTERDAMERUNG (exactly like the entire RING cycle, for that matter, reflective in the four sections of both). But also, a generation away from the turn of the century ideological battle fought by the Beast, in His very Parlor (purchased with gains of a minor cult that met in a sanctuary called "the toolshed"), among all that pain and suffering there is always the longing for the newly meek to re-claim lost power.

It does not matter if you believe, the words are there for you to hear or decide not to, and it is just as irrelevant to them if you listen as you make it: words exist, like the thump of fallen lumber, whether or not you have decided to comprehend them.

Looping and distortion aside, i prefer the song in its reversed form. It is haunting, sublime, and honest. It makes more sense lyrically, with a metastatic comprehension inclusive of databases both arcane and historiographic, and this is an exercise in honest ana-historical criticism in order to further somewhat a broader understanding of an important iconography and mythologie. Also, it is frightening, terrible, and culls vapid and rash reactionaryism for a broad spectrum of reasons, which is always a gas.

These are my own (multiple-thousands of listens worth plus research-annotated) transliterations of the EVP (or HeartSong or Psychesong or Soul/geistSpeak), and they may vary from others you find or from what you hear. Tiniest of argumentation aside, i am confident in my work on the whole and in the simple interpretation offered of this sad subliminal hymn, and the suffering indignation it descries. Both backwards and forwards in time, the song will remain and open wound of righteous pain, and of wars fought above, below, and throughout the Earth.


[You have come to-- your mortality fated by planning the same everyone else. All that Church and prayer and you have ended up on the same Elysian Fields, just as dead- as every other person. The war has touched us all. The helplessness of the music is that of the trench, the bulwark; it is chaos and waiting, and ultimately death. On the other side of that black night, here we begin our journey (like Dante the Poet) and you are greeted as you amass with all the other dead. This song is sung to you, to and for and as the chorus, and in the end after a progression in four parts (see: THE RING(s both Wagner and Tolkien/jackson), 2001, HER, BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY, FINNEGAN'S WAKE, et al)- the saga is unity for the now-empowered Legion to which you are now also part. The song, both ways, begins by attaching to you on a psychic and emotional level most people will have unlearned to access (because it is scary and it hurts). Here, next, we are reminded how we have arrived here, the same corpse meat as the Muslim, the Commie: the Christian has been lied to. Propaganda will point out this obvious, and attribute it a new meaning:]



[The river Styx has too many bodies attempting to cross; the underworld is swollen with the dead. Like endless footage reels of the Nam and the brutal actuality of war, the inability to unsee what has been seen is pain. Here, on the ridge of death the river itself is filled with corpses; there is no crossing it anymore. Access to Eternity has been cut off, and we are begged to feel that pain. To be enraged by it.]



[Hypocrisy has been validated; the church and it's lies confirmed in the afterlife as the Lie that brought you here.]

Oh I will n'er be saved,
Because I live with Satan..

[This lamentation is also a celebration of Knowledge, and attribution to the Secret which empowers this song-spell, and to the mathematic by which its employment was actualized. In this moment we are reminded to "pray for our enemies" (the wartime inverse of "love thy neighbor"), and urged to remember them until the moment we welcome them into our midst (because they too are limited by the same fragility of existence):

One wish today;
That you'll all pray for
Three who will make it here late.

[interpet the Three as you wish (allah/christ/yhwh; father/son/spirit; living/dead/limbo), in any case we are next asked to look with our new eyes. We, the Christian, see our selves through our lord- in those final moments self-similar on either side of physical mortality: suffering futile forsaken and reviled, and then raised on a post to bear witness the truth of those who put us there.]

Pray now and you'll see...
The 'Lord' turned me out,
But, oh, I was the shaggy fool..
Clothed in agony,
Lost at a height.
There's no escaping it.


[Why this is propaganda: jesus said "they know not what they do" precluding need for forgiveness, where here there image compels indignation, perhaps sorrow, but (regardless of our own personal opinion on its validity) a most certain Logic.]

Nor his woes...
So here's to my Sweet Satan.

{Satan here refers to Aleister Crowley, whose home (temple) this song was (predominantly) written in, and whom convened a coven in a church called the "toolshed" (side note: see Maynard Keynes) before the formation of of the OTO.]

The one who's little path
Would make me sad,
Whose power is satan.
He'll give those with him 666.
there was a little toolshed,
where he made
us suffer sad Satan.

[The preceding passage is perhaps the most known and least understood, as per lack of historiographical record (or unwillingness to refer to AC's rather well-documented ritual and procedure.]

Ohohohoh...
Family won't get loose,
"They're all of me."
"Always" soothes the worker.
"Always" will be as we know now.

[Propaganda: Be trapped in the lie which has lead to your death, or join us fight the deception. Crowley speaks through, for the cause, as Satan in the next verse; drawing us further into his emotional logic.]

"I see ruins," said he,
"the world they offered me?"
Who wished the Lord's fall?
If we lose feather,
Say you'll save me!

[Moving pesher and further reversed forward through time, Satan refers to The Fall. His original motivation, his original burden, sorrow, and failure. And now we are in the same repeated eternal, and there are more of us. We are all here, and we are sympathetic. As the fallen lost their wings to pit of fire and gathered down there to suffer and plot revenge, we are there now. We are all dead, we are all fallen, we are all forsaken. We are all in this Lie together.]

And no witch can bend the rules..
And no witch can do...

[A second lament. The witch is a symbol for the magic user, and for the ultimate futility of the black arts as they are understood by the sentient living. There is a limitation to borrowed power, and this is where Satan (AC) stands apart. The Beast does not offer power, but knowledge. Here, now, you are to know that there is another way. The self-similar message in the song (played the other way) should not go unrecognized. And by that egoist rationale, the same offer must be made to the Lamb himself:]

Hunt next to the shore,
'Cause they see all from there.

[Refer to the sermon on the boats]

See here's the news,
Who walks with mute grief!
Perhaps no-one found thee...

[The Gospels (good news) are a lie. No witness to the return of Christ is honest. Those that spread them are deceivers, and carry a pained burden of that lie they chose to administer.]


"Heavy, lift me out,"
Spake the Reve(anent).
"Someday, failed, we'll lose one line-up,
They've gotta leave forsaken."

[Christ as risen corpse (and dead like us,) confessing for his "sins" as-and-by an inverse of Satan/AC invoking their logic, and also puts forward the truth behind a few of his secrets. A sad confession at the end leads to repetition; another silent confession:]

"And no witch can do..."
"And no witch can do..."

[Christ came to replace the Law, but while making a New covenant that supersedes the old, he employed old technique in doing so (see: THE BOOK OF ENOCH, Dionysus, et al.) and therein lies the rub (to AC:) even the Passion of the Christ is in sorrow, is futile, and serves a hidden purpose other than the given one. All laws are participle to other ones, even those believed to be divine. In the fourth and final section, now that we are all One (including our master, our enemy, the living hell we fled at the open to the hell we're living as it all coalesces in the winding final moments of song, the math is simply broken down and explained (including the use verbatim of several lines directly from AC-written invocations:]

He, who slay the Lords:
Thoth have our laws;
Maat must be superb. Mass is ended...

[Gotterdamerung! The death of gods is the outcome of the implementation of Logic. Thoth is etymologically, literally, "Thought." Logic governs Law, and even Deity must give way to Free Will. Mathematics are universal, even for gods. This is the actual war, the one we fight for our souls: the ability to Know and not simply believe. This is why the church must fall. It has no choice, it is an eventuality by the process of exponential intelligence.]

Over there,
He who should learn thee.
Any moot that serves by my sworn music,
I wish it with snow be shushed, All for my mass's sake.

[But shhh! Keep this a secret! the power is in the secret!]

Hear why its sung,
here, oppositioner, Ohh..
He who should show
May make his show worthy,
To look, for us, odd.. sickly,
There's one chance - take his show.
Hold thy head,
Hear why its sung here. oppositioner.
Who owns this earth built below?
Oh sweet Israel...

[Zion!]


I know that even while attempting to be deliberate here there is much shadowy and confusing language. It comes with the game, but if interested i'll be happy to talk more.

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