SEVEN ON NUBERIA

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7 was going on sabbatical with Ba’al so he had to do exactly as he was told. Ba’al told him to observe  the customs of the people on the planet and not to attract attention to himself.  Ba’al was there for political reasons and didn’t need his mission being complicated or compromised.

7 stayed at the mansion which was where the diplomats were kept.  On this planet sex slavery was common, it wasn’t thought of as slavery though, that word or concept didn’t exist on this planet and they weren’t there to bring the Nuberians  to Jesus.  As a matter of custom a sex slave was brought to seven to keep him occupied and entertained.  They brought him this short, thick and curvy creature, very exotic, she had plump thighs.  She was scantily clad in jewelry and veils.  Her skin was black and rubbery, exactly like rubber, shiny even, a living sex doll.  She had jewelry on her head and forehead.

“What is your name.”  asked 7.

He could do whatever he wanted to her on this planet, he was considered the highest caste, royalty, and she was subcaste, nobody would bat an eye if she disappeared, but her owner might need to be compensated.

“My name is Shunam.”  she replied as respectfully as possible.  “You may do to me whatever pleases you.”

“Conversation pleases me.”  said 7  “Tell me about yourself.”

“Conversation is not my strong suit, my people were not bred for conversation, I can give you a massage or please you in other ways, skillfully.”  Shunam explained

“Perhaps later, I would like to have a sense of connection with people before I jump into bed with them.  You don’t find it difficult to just have sex without any conversation or anything?”  Seven queried.

“My people were bred for sex.  That is what we do.  We are bred to be pleasing to the eye and sexually desirable.  It is my instinct.  It doesn’t require any foreplay or conversation.”  Shunam

Her eyes were the most beautiful piercing blue in such contrast with her jet black skin.

“So you can just bump genitalia without any guilt or shame?”

“What are genitalia?”

“You know, how you reproduce.”

“Where do you keep your ‘genitalia’?”

The Zed were not raised as prudes, they were very open about sex. Seven slightly spread his legs and gestured with both of his hands.

“May I see them?”  she asked.

Seven sighed a little and pulled down the native garments that had been given him on his arrival.

“Wow, they are spectacular, I have never been with a human before.  May I touch them?”

He nodded his consent.  Her hands were remarkably warm and attentive.  Her touch was more intelligent and graceful than any other hands that had touched him.  He had never been touched with that concern and curiosity and respect before.  It made him feel like the richest man in the universe.  His member started swelling under her affectionate attention.

“What is it doing?  Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, no, Sweety, that is natural.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes it feels good.”

“And these are your “genitalia”?”

“Yes, you don’t keep your genitalia in the same place?”

“No, it is a secret.  My people don’t tell anybody where we keep our intimates.  That is part of our prerogative as slaves.  It is the one thing that we possess and give to people that we have genuine affection for.  I am only talking to you about it because I trust you and i like you.  I have pseudo genitalia that I use for serving the needs of my masters, but that doesn’t let them get close to me emotionally, I feel next to nothing there and my people have developed an uncanny resistance to all disease.  If you won’t tell anybody I can show you where my real pleasure center is.  Where I feel something.  Where I can be intimate.  Do you want to know?”

“Yes, I would like that.”

Shunam slowly removed her head dress, with her diadem on it to reveal a plump juicy pair of moist lips in the middle of her forehead.  7 couldn’t believe what he was seeing, he had seen naked women, he was not inexperienced with alien women, but this….. He was so aroused he could barely contain himself.  He kissed her forehead gently, filling the rough ridges of her lips on his own.  They were hot and they gave off a sent like jasmine.  The air around them was humid.  She seemed very aroused.  He could see moisture oozing between them.

She sank to her knees in front of him and grasped his member.  He caught his breath and let out a little squeal.  She doted upon his scepter showering it with pecks, holding it affectionately next to her face.  She ran it into her mouth to moisten it and then placed it at the entrance of her forehead temple and started applying pressure, working it into her orifice.  7 almost fainted with extacy.   He had never felt anything like it before, there was an electricity, all other sex he could remember felt animal and this felt spiritual, like making love to an angel or a goddess.  She rocked back and forth rhythmically, he felt some manner of sphincter muscles inside her womanhood sucking, pulling, enticing, welcoming his penis into her space.  Overcome with affection he pulled out and dropped to his knees and looked in her eyes, there was a light inside them, a look of contentment.

“That doesn’t hurt”.  he asked

“Why should it?”  she responded, “we don’t keep our brains in there or anything.”

“Where do your people keep their brains?”

“In our chests, they are attached to our hearts.  My people are known as the Bodhichitta, the heart-minded.  Now shutup, I am not done with you.”  She playfulle shoved him back onto a plush rug that was the skin of some large predator from the cold part of the planet.  She enveloped him with her womanhood again and he affectionately caressed her forehead as she rocked back and forth until he exploded inside her cranium.   It wasn’t like an ejaculation with a human female.  It was like a supernova, there was some intelligent electricity, some chemical reaction, he knew from that moment  that he was addicted and always would be and he was glad.  Now he was a slave, a slave to his desires.

Her eyes glowed brightly, not metaphorically, there was an actual light in her eyes that had not been there before.  It was as though she was somehow being nourished with some energy from his ejaculation.  He wondered what effects it would have on her all of his ZED training and all of the orgone that he had absorbed through meditation and study.  What effect would his seed have on this magnificent creature.  He had no idea what to expect.

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Cedant arma togae.

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cedant arma togae”

This was the philosophical calculus of Cicero, I probably butchered the Latin, but essentially what it means is that the armor of battle must yield to the garment of reason.  There is meaning lost to us in history, we don’t understand that the toga was the garment of peace and leisure was also the garment of reason.  We forget that we have associations that will not survive in the future just as other cultures had associations that we don’t know about.  This doesn’t prevent us from arrogantly, and tacitly interpreting and judging from our perspective, believing our understanding and judgement to be correct.

Also of interest to me is the similarity between the toga and the traditional garb of India. See it was difficult to fight in t toga, but they were comfortable.  The garb itself edited your consideration set of what you could do and how you could move and how quickly.

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00atoga-1

THE VAMPIRE SOPHIA

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Alex sat in the corner of the open air coffee shop as it approached midnight, it was in the downtown part of old town Pasadena.  All of the yuppies came to clubs in the area to show off their cash and to dance badly, but the coffee shop was quiet with the eption of lounge music.  At the moment nobody was there.  He had a stack of notebooks on his left and a stack of books on his right and one of each was open on the table in front of him.  He held one open while he wrote in the other.  He still preferred pen and paper to all the modern technology.  He dropped his pen and paper to rub his tired eyes.  He was frustrated and depressed, discontent with everything.  It wasn’t that he disliked himself, he loved himself, he wouldn’t want to be anybody else, what irritated him was the way he was treated, perceived, evaluated, and ranked by others.  He couldn’t get promoted, he couldn’t get acknowledged, he couldn’t even find a loyal friend.  Attractive by anyone’s standard he was also an artist, a writer of fiction and essays, he was experienced with performance arts and public speaking, he had danced professionally, he studied philosophies that others would never in their lives be able to begin to comprehend.  But all of this seemed to count against him, people were intimidated by him.
 
He suspected that the only thing that could change his fate was something he had spent all of his life trying to uproot from his life, the irrational.  He could lie, he could tell people what they wanted to hear, he could manipulate them, and rob them and sabotage them.  He could appear to be their friend and then stab them in the back, and then they would like him, not because they wanted to, but because they had to.  The very concept was repellent to him and yet it seemed to work for everyone else.  The world was litigious, acquisitive, vexatious, full of phony people and gilded gargoyles.  Rats scurrying about trying to prove to each other that they are something they are not.  Failing to recognize that one communicates to others what one is by being, not by doing. 
 
He didn’t want to be right about people or about society, he wanted to be wrong but over and over again his worldview was upheld, or when it appeared that he had found someone that was different from the others he was disappointed yet again.  Then he would get depressed.  Then he would get creative.  Then he would delve deeper into philosophy and express his feelings through art.  And then he would get smarter, and then he would see more, and then he would see that the corruption and perversion had run even deeper and social failure was even more inevitable than he had thought before which would begin the downward spiral all over again.  He didn’t know how much longer he could take it.  All he wanted was to be treated nice, and to be understood, to have someone to love, and to belong somewhere with something resembling a family, people that would protect him and support him and appreciate him.  But just as the ocean cannot be contained in a thimble the average person was incapable of understanding him. 
 
As he sat there wallowing in despair, he was unaware that one of the oldest vampires alive was listening in on his every thought.  She sat perched atop the alleyway.  She was riveted.  Nos Feratu, much like viruses do not appear alive until they are near living organisms, and the more alive the organism, the more active vampires become.  She was aroused beyond measure, this creature so rare, intoxicating her with his eloquent pain.  Everything a person knows and does is in their blood, and his blood was rich and juicy.  Her eyes were fixed on him like a hungry tigress stalking a sambar deer. 
 
Time seemed to stop, and silence descended on the alley.  Sophia, that was her name, turned into a black mist and disappeared into the shadows, soundlessly appearing and slinking towards Alex in an alien manner.  She was small of stature, and her limbs were deceivingly delicate in appearance, her facial features were a pleasant blend of roman and Egyptian.  Her dark eyes were surrounded by thick black lushes that looked like twin, Gothic butterflies.  Sophia was drunk on the genius and passion that wafted from the soul in front of her.  It was everything she could do to contain her blood lust, but 900 years experience reminded her that this was a rare moment to be made to last as long as possible, to be teased out until it was unbearable.  She used every scrap of her will power to remain in control of her hunger. 
 
Alex noticed her with a start and instantly she was in front of him looking deep into his eyes glamouring him so he wouldn’t try to flee, which would have been futile anyway.  
 
“Shhhhh!  Relax!  I am not going to hurt you, yet.”  Her fangs were thick contrasting starkly with the rest of her harmless appearance.  “I am going to release you so you can talk to me don’t try to run ok?”  she squeezed his cheeks and shook his head as she spoke. 
 
Alex nodded distantly.  
 
Sophia pulled his chair away from the table and curled up on his lap.  “I feel your pain.”  her hand slid up his chest and pulled his collar down.  “I understand you.”  She made a pouty face as she spoke, her fingernail made a tiny incision in his exposed chest, and she watched the blood accumulate and run a little before she deftly scooped it up with her tongue.  It was as good as she had expected, her eyes rolled back and her head and her back arched.  She moaned as she tried to remain composed.  Her chest heaved as her intensified arousal increased her heartbeat.  Fluidly she pulled herself up to straddle him and grabbed his face in her hands.  She sucked his lip into her mouth and tugged on it playfully, biting it quickly, before letting it slip out of her mouth.  She salivated as she watched the blood accumulate and run down his chin.  Running her fingers through his hair she pulled his head back and licked up the blood.  Kissing him, sucking the blood from the wound.  She licked his tongue as though she could taste him, tasting his own blood.  
 
“I could take you away from all of this you know, if I wanted to…..  I could make you a king, a warrior king.  I could make you a god.  No more pain, no more suffering, no more having to treat human trash as equals.  Just your will, whatever it might be, not even your will, your whim.  Does that sound good to you?  Would you like that?…..SPEAK MY PET!”
 
Alex couldn’t believe what he was experiencing.  He had never even contemplated whether vampires were real or not and now this succubus was upon him, loving him, taking away his pain, eating him, understanding him.  He didn’t speak out of thought but out of reflex.  He reacted to the first time in years not being in a state of constant misery.  “yessssss”  He rasped. 
 
Sophia’s body became taut and she snapped into him like a cobra and bit into his neck with a crunch.  Her face was sprayed with blood from an ejaculation from his jugular.  She came to her senses again and closed the wound, while she wiped all of the blood from her face and swallowed it.  It would be sacrilege to waste a single drop.   
 
THE END. 
 
FOR NOW……

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RESPONSE TO KRS-1

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First of all let me say that I am a fan and I like edutainment and I still bump that shit as I drive down the road in my little white Toyota yaris with my Shiva decal and my om namah shivayah tattoo.  Having said that I am not going to destroy your argument, annihilation, evisceration, decimation, with my philosophy, philology, ontology, 

We’re robbin’ and killin’, your own medicine you taste 
You built up a race on the concept of violence 
Now in ’90 you want silence 
Well, I want science, not silence but science 
Scientific fact about black 
The board of education acts as if it’s only reality 
Is talking ’bout a Tom, Dick and Harry 
So now you learn your black history is questions and answers 
Every question but the Black Panthers 
Timbuctoo existed when the caveman existed 
Why then isn’t this listed 
Is this because the blackman is the original man 
Or does it mean humanity is African 
I don’t know, but these sciences are hidden 
For some strange reason it’s forbidden 
To talk about, or converse on a political outburst 
I don’t believe that I’m the first 
Or should I say the first one, or the first one that’s done 
Music like I’m still number one 
Music like that or this is the incredible uplift 
Those that oppose get dissed 
But who will oppose the teacher when society’s a wreck 
So check the blackman’s in effect 
Near the Tigris and Euphrates Valleys in Asia 
Lies the Garden of Eden 
Where Adam became a father to humanity 
Now don’t get mad at me 
But according to facts, this seems just fantasy 
Because man, the most ancient man 
Was found thousands of years before Adam began 
And where he was found, again they can’t laugh at ya 
It’s right, dead, smack in Africa 
But due to religious and political power 
We must be denied the facts every hour 
We run to school, tryin’ to get straight A’s 
Let’s take a trip way back in the days 
To the first civilization on Earth, the Egyptians 
Giving birth to science, mathematics and music 
Religion, the list goes on, you choose it 
Egypt was the land of spiritual blessing 
Egypt was the land of facts, not guessing 
People from all over the world had come 
To learn from Egypt, Egypt number one 
So people that believe in Greek philosophy 
Know your facts, Egypt was the monopoly 
Greeks had learned from Egyptian masters 
You might say “Prove it”, well here’s the answers 
640 to 322 b.C. originates Greek philosophy 
But in that era Greece was at war 
With themselves and Persia, what’s more 
Any philosopher at that time was a criminal 
He’d be killed very simple 
This indicates that Greece had no respect 
For science or intellect 
So how the hell you created philosophy 
When you kill philosophers constantly 
The point is that we descend from kings 
Science, art and beautiful things 
African history is the worlds history 
This is the missing link and mystery 
Once we realise they all are African 
White will sit down with black and laugh again 
So judge not least ye might be judged 
By the judgement ye judge, ye shall be judged 
Matthew seven, first verse doesn’t budge 
No man should walk the Earth and sludge 
If you don’t believe, you can go and check 
To see how and where the blackman’s in effect

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_k7lFYd4PE

Now, this point about Greece hating philosophers….. Above is a link to okko Behrands THE SPIRIT OF ROMAN LAW, the foremost expert in the world on the subject.  The augures were a pre Greek Minoan cult.  Their philosophy shaped and still shapes and informs the entire structure of the civilized western world.  They developed the concept of authority, auctoritas, this concept of being under the law and beholding to it.  That is why their is Praxis which became due process and practice.  It is when your philosophy informs your behavior and not the opposite.  In order to speak with authority you have to walk your talk, the high priest is not above the law and does not create the law, like plato suggests he is the philosopher king and he can see into the archetypal causal world of ideas and idols and describe the correct relationship and the correct path.  I refer to it as “equality under reason” and it is the very definition of meritocracy which is the only valid form of government.  To explain the impact this cult had on the western world would be impossible, the words that we use to think, our very thought process was created for us and given to us by this cult.  The words that we are using, the mental categories that we have, our concept of justice and truth.  Your brain is not your brain and your thoughts are not your thoughts, your brain was created by this Greek cult.  

Egypt, like all major civilizations, had a large middle class, tradesmen, craftsmen, secret societies, it is the large middle class that moved freely from country to country spreading ideas.  This is how religions spread and philosophies spread.  This is how freemasonry moves about.  You appear to be suggesting that civilization was somehow stolen from black people by white people.  Why is it that people attribute civilization to people that currently don’t have it?  and the people that do have it somehow stole it from the people that don’t have it?  Is being civilized a finite resource and white people are using too much of it?  Are you arguing for the tragedy of the commons in regards to civilized thought? 

“A man will not relay without corruption that which he has not comprehended.”  Manly Palmer Hall

This argument is part of a recurring rhetoric to marginalize the creativity and achievement of white man.  Since the white man had the intellectual apparatus to grasp the concepts and philosophies and carry that fire with him does he not own it by being able to comprehend it?  and reproduce it?  Now, if this fire can’t be handed to another without it burning them should it not be held by the person capable of holding it until such a time as the other is ready to receive it?  and should not the one that desires the fire make himself like the one holding the fire so that he also might not get burned by the fire?  Or should I put out my fire so that we are equal and neither of us has fire? 

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^^^^iconographic art of joxua mourningstar^^^^

On another point, this concept of all of the music on the street being stolen from black people.  The reason people say that is because of jazz, now lets be clear, jazz is a realm of experimentation one goes into to find their unique sound.  When a person experiments to find their sound, does jazz then own that sound?  See Cornel West and i agree on this point and we have come to the same conclusion about jazz.  If a race can own a realm of experimentation that makes no sense.  Is Neil degrasse tyson stealing science because he is using scientific method which was created by white people?  

And to suggest that music and even rap didn’t exist in the white world before the intermarriage of African culture and western culture is ridiculous.  

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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iambic_pentameter

and on a final note this concept of a rap battle being a black thing, one of my favorite scenes in literature and my favorite play it Cyrano De Bergerac.  In the first act of the play he composes a sonnet while he is having a duel.  the reason we don’t do this anymore in the west is because of white women.  They like to put our dick in a box and keep it in their closet and only let us take it out and play with it every once in a while.  Steve Martin, my idol, remade this movie and called it Roxanne.  Apparently we share a love of Cyrano de Bergerac.  

Iconographic art of Joxua Mourningstar

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“Epiphany of One Self” is a visual homage to Proto-Indo European, combining the Caduceus with the Ida and Pingala of the yogic serpents, representing the Ajna Chakra, replacing the winged globe with the two-petaled lotus symbolizing the Garden of Eden or the Alchemical marriage and the atomic power released by the proper union of the male and female energies in oneself.

Joxua is a trained Jnani guru and has combined a vast amount of general and specific knowledge from religions and the occult.  He has combined taoism, buddhism, hinduism and kabbalah.  In this piece the ajna chakra has been modified so that the two petals are breasts.  The sacred, secret, succor and the serpents suckle the sweet knowledge of the alchemical marriage.  As one attains to the level of non duality.  

(22) Jesus saw infants being suckled. He said to his disciples, “These infants being suckled are like those who enter the kingdom.” 
They said to him, “Shall we then, as children, enter the kingdom?” 
Jesus said to them, “When you make the two one, and when you make the inside like the outside and the outside like the inside, and the above like the below, and when you make the male and the female one and the same, so that the male not be male nor the female female; and when you fashion eyes in the place of an eye, and a hand in place of a hand, and a foot in place of a foot, and a likeness in place of a likeness; then will you enter the kingdom.”  ~gospel of thomas

 

He also felt it meaningful to incorporate the fascia into the symbol as the sushumna in place of the spine.  

Etymology[edit source | editbeta]

The term fascismo is derived from the Latin word fasces.[15] The fasces, which consisted of a bundle of rods that were tied around an axe,[16] was an ancient Roman symbol of the authority of the civic magistrate.[17] They were carried by his lictors and could be used for corporal and capital punishment at his command.[18][19] The word fascismo also relates to political organizations in Italy known as fasci, groups similar to guilds or syndicates.

The symbolism of the fasces suggested strength through unity: a single rod is easily broken, while the bundle is difficult to break.[20] Similar symbols were developed by different fascist movements. For example the Falange symbol is five arrows joined together by a yoke.[21]

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fascism#Etymology

 

It was also of interest that Joxua felt this piece was predictive of coming global events and he asked lynn marie le to post a time stamp on her blog.  Shortly there after there was a fertilizer explosion in Texas and the boston bombings.  

http://finscribeofwisdom.blogspot.com/2013/03/atomic-explosion-predictive-art-by.html

http://finscribeofwisdom.blogspot.com/2013/04/boston-marathon-bombings-deconstructed.html

 

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