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The general position for many people is that they await an authorisation that will never come. “So did I do the right thing?”. We can’t tell you—we don’t know ourselves. The magus has stepped over this illusion; and that is, in part, why people want to kill him—he no longer evaluates himself with regard to what to others think, what the state thinks, or what society thinks. Instead, he appeals to a suprapersonal guide—his daemon, in Platonic terms—and receives authorisation from that.

The people want to get a handle on him, so they say: “Ah, yeah, you’re coming from there right? You’re one of those; we can tell because you expressed that opinion *those people* have. Let’s play the game we play with *those people*.” The games vary: the games can be shamed-shamer, victim-victimiser, lover-loved—for most people what they want is “the hook”. “Okay, he said something positive about Farage—so he’s a UKIPer. If I’m a Farage-person, I’ll post some cozy pictures that feature English pubs—perhaps a big green toad with a pipe and a pint; or if I’m a *nice person* I’ll act outraged, I’ll disdain him—my Uber driver is the hardest-working man I know and he supports a family of 13 in Gujarat; you can’t say that about most so-called *English* people.”

Yet now he said something else—perhaps about Farage, perhaps not—and it’s not in line with the game. “Look, what’s going on, mate—I thought we were playing *I like Farage* and now you’ve criticised him? Look, what’s going on? I thought we were playing racist vs. good-person and now you made some observation about the interiors in Uber taxis, it’s not relevant to the point.”

The magus—the shaman-magician—is hated and adored because he has stepped from the game. This is not deliberate, as when people contradict you to put you in a double-bind—to attain power over you. The magus is hated because he is candid; he is completely honest—he says it how he sees it; hence he may affirm you one moment, then contradict you the next—yet it has no objective; he is not behind a mask with a manipulative strategy (let’s see if I can irritate him and say the opposite) as the true troll or contrarian is. He wears a mask, that is why he has no mask; the unmasked are the great concealers. In fact, they are in a game that is so concealed from themselves that they don’t know it is a game anymore—for some it is even difficult to say, “The cup of tea is on the table.” The game prohibits that observation in a subtle way.

The result is that people either love or hate the magus—he is divisive. In fact, the people who profess hatred love him the most and the people who profess love hate him the most. The situation was discovered when Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss, yet Peter denied his name three times before the cock crowed—who loved Christ more?

And have you achieved this exalted position? To an extent—I still fall back into insincere assertions at times, attempt to impose my ego (fail to recuse myself and achieve complete impersonal relations with reality). Unlike the people in the above video, I did not seek out this state on purpose; it happened through accident or serendipity—if the people on the video achieved their aims, they would have been disappointed.

Of course they would: the people who want to be “shamans” are the least suitable to be so, the most portentous stuffed up people around—so puffed up they even say shar-man, not shay-man, because it’s more “authentic”. As for myself, I thought all this stuff was nonsense, yet now I’m convinced magic is real and the world in the grip of Satanic forces.

“Woah there, buddy,” so might say Robert L. Moore, the man in the video, author of King, Warrior, Magician, Lover, “looks like you’re suffering from some ego inflation.” Moore would say that because he was himself a puffed up fraud with no initiation whatsoever. In the video, he goes on to describe how Martin Luther King and Malcolm X were “shamans” who “told the unacceptable truth”—especially when Malcolm X was broken late in life and accepted multiracialism.

What nonsense: MLK and Malcolm X were total frauds—a true black shaman would say: “We must submit ourselves to the guidance and the tutelage of the white man—submission is liberation, the yoke is freedom; if we submit, we will rise.” Does this not strike you as the unacceptable truth? It’s not a homily from MLK or Malcom X, anyway—with their love for extramarital affairs, sodomy, and murder. Neither man said a single true thing in their lives.

Moore promoted them to his white American audience—along with every foreign religion under the sun and “anti-racism”—because he was descended from Russian Jews and had a democratic outlook; yet initiation is in the blood—you have to wake up covered in blood, otherwise you’ll never speak the truth.

You are unbearable. We have to run away from you—we fear you; and we are completely obsessed by you. Yet I am completely harmless. What you fear is just exposure—the monster in the woods with horns means you no harm; it just isn’t going to play-act with you—we would prefer it if you would eat us. You want to play act: you want to play “save the West”; you want to play “drug addict”; you want to play “victim-victimiser”; you want to play “old friend”; you want to play “university professor”; you want to play “concerned relative”; you want to play “wounded dog that shows you its paw”. We will find the box you want to play, and we will put you in it—then we will have you under control.

You will rebuke me, to control me—it is how your parents taught you to control people, with shame; it is how the veil is built to make you “good” but not real—only good, only superficial. “He’s a racist”, “He’s a fascist”, “He’s got no money”, “He’s anti-Christian”, “He worships the Jew on a stick (Jesus Christ, that is)”, “He’s an abuse victim”, “He beats his girlfriends, actually”, “He’s got ego inflation”, “It’s his mental health”, “He’s stupid”, “He has issues”, “He’s traumatised”, “Look what I found out what he did at fourteen…”, “I have it here in writing, his own writing…”, “We found him out…we can put him on trial now.”, “He’s one of those, you know.”, “One of what?”, “Oh you know what I mean…”.

You want to find out what Shakespeare meant by “to endure the contumely of arrogant men”? Of course, we know what’s wrong with you. Oh? I have burned my reputation—you have nothing. Perhaps the richest variation is “I don’t like the bullying that’s going on here”. If you speak the truth and set people free from the true bullies—who bind people up in these nasty implicit games so that they can hit people and then say, “Why do you keep hitting yourself, silly?” boof “Why do you keep hitting yourself, silly?”—then they will call you a bully; even as the victims begin to feel this strange elation—the elation that comes when the truth is spoken and you are set free.

“I think we’ve had enough of the bullying that’s going on.” Translation: “Too much truth has been spoken, let’s call this man a bully to shut him up.” (Afterwards, the timid—caught in the psychological game—come up to you and say, “I didn’t think you were bullying anyone.”). If that doesn’t work, they kill you.

It’s just an attempt to get the truth under control—the clever ones, who run the government and so on, plead the 5th amendment; they go completely silent on the phone and pretend they did not hear what you said. “Is there someone here?” “No, I don’t hear anyone.”

You wonder why people aren’t genuinely religious in the West—you can tell them the situation directly and they’ll pretend not to hear you. “That wouldn’t be in my interests—I’m not stupid.” The illusion you sustain is the true stupidity. The tea is on the table. For all the words wasted on shamanism and initiation, it amounts in the end to a refusal to lie about anything. You know it’s there really—yet it is forbidden to say; “They would say I’m mad, I’m stupid, I’m evil”. Yet the tea is on the table.


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