13 July 2011
י'א בתמוז, התשע"א
13 July, 2011
Copyright © R. Kossover, 2011
A letter to a friend, the person who got me interested in the End of Days.
Like good bread, this is done while you sleep.
My, oh my, look where your interest in the End of Days has led us! What terrible awareness!
"Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"
The Second Coming, by William Butler Yeats – as found in Michael Robartes and the Dancer(1920)
He was blessed with an awful vision, this Irishman writing 90 years ago was. Being a good Catholic boy, he saw it all in a Christian form. But he saw then what we see with hardly believing eyes today. The ceremony of innocence is surely drowned, in so many ways. The virgin girls and the boys who would possess them watch how to deflower young women on pornography on the internet - thousands, if not millions of clear and very graphic lessons in how humans can act like animals with encouragement to the watcher: “Do as I do, and enjoy life to the fullest!!”
Are the best among us the airheads who watch such stupidity as "American Idol"? Are the worst among us those who act and believe with conviction - and seem inevitably to bring death, massacre and war in our wake? It seems so, when looked at from the perspective of people getting killed.
I have seen these desert birds, as have colleagues of mine - they are the vultures who pick at the dying.
I have seen the passionless beast as it slouched towards Bethlehem, shouting "alláh hu akbár!", as it seized the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and looted it, raping one of the holier sites of Christianity while its "guardians" stood doing nothing, showing all the courage of lily-livered cowards and preventing the only ones who had the guts to protect a holy site, the IDF, those evil Jews, from doing anything. The Church fathers pointed the blame of blood in our direction in Israel with their bony, hypocritical fingers.
A blood-dimmed tide of murder has been unleashed, on every continent save one, and now no one is exempt from knowledge of this rough beast of Wahhabi terror.
Were it merely enough that this rough beast were a bunch of sick terrorists filled with the bloodlust of a bastard from Nejd! But it isn't. The "rough beast" has his suited comrades in addition, doing evil and murder while spewing words with long syllables, and orders to goons with guns and airplanes with no pilots. Thousands die in a day at their orders, and their Jewish running dogs dog us in Israel, ruining lives in Gush Qatif, and now focusing the laser beams of their evil on Gush Etzion and Gush Shilo from their lairs in Gush Dan. "Piss now!" they cry. Well, they think it is "peace" (it's so easy to confuse the short "i" with a long "e"). They want the "rough beast" to piss on us, the believers in G-d and His Law, for they fear it will piss on them - and bring them the death they so richly deserve.
But where you live, your good farmland needs plants WITH SEED to carry you forward and prevent you from starving, while corporate giants would try to hustle you into penury and starvation with plants WITH NO SEED. They blow up your dams and look to damn you with floods, while they use ultra-low sound frequencies to try to make your land unstable so that it will swallow you up. These evil bastards think of everything to bring you to an early death, don't they? And the rough beast wanders about, building altars to his evil and trying to steal your children away from you.
So, here we are, at the End of Days.
O joy! O rapture!
Mars peeps at us, while he sharpens his sword and licks his chops. His wife, Venus, dances seductive dances to whet our desires, while their children, Fear and Terror, playfully murder our children. Here we are, in the End of Days, waiting for the next shoe to drop - or is it the next missile?
And I haven't even told you about our problems yet! Have a nice Wednesday.
Blessings from Samaria,