Everything Living

  « Everything living is now powered by dead corpses, nothing can go on living without the matter absorbed from the dead, even the sun and the moon are powered from the energies which invisibly radiate from all that is on earth, and all that is on earth that lives requires the nourishment from the dead, from their dead bodies. Plant life requires, first and foremost, the decaying bodies of animals and organic matter from the humus (life-force) of the earth to grow and develop; all farming of cultivated crops and livestock is reliant on animal based fertilizers and the same blackened organic humus (along with water and light) which are related to spirits and souls. But how to set the Spirit free from the raptures of the fallen Soul of humification that catabolises in corrupting matter? Victor Frankenstein gives birth, in the crucible of pain and suffering, to his own anima. It is a tenuous link as a comparative analogy, but one always struggles to find analogies here – did we not also try to reanimate our own souls against the entropic Force of Time, did we not see in the Germanic Volk a reflection of our own Soul? Did we not try to arrest the decay and to reawaken the soul and revive it – make it conscious of itself – to resurrect it out of the forces of decay and the coma of nothingness and to restore the Eternal Age, to make the world into something other than it is? For the world, for some, cannot be accepted as it is, some men yearn for something more, the vital spark of Will Within Them yearns for something better than the world can give. We struggle against all the elemental forces of disintegration and annihilation, because we are not of this world. This selflessness, was in fact, our own desire to transcend Time. The Volk as the Sleeping Beauty, a conglomerate of Gerda’s maternal instinct which the Divine Individual attempts to awaken as an idealist Nation (natal – a birth of a race), and elevating that form, we envisaged a higher Nationalistic plane of life. An embodied self-sacrifice of love – a gigantic Heart of spiritual force and boundless love that electrified the Germanic Volk to a National Life! »

by Karl Young in Third Reich Pilgrim: Ghostland

Hermitage Helm Corpus


In Praise of Herr Karl Young:

Orpheus no longer wanders then, a plaything for other fools’ phantasies, encaged by the artificial prototypes, that the so-called Pasteurs of Mankind have inordinately created taking to the SLAUGHTER Houses of a terrible & misunderstood machination, our Aryan Volk. 

No longer a puppet at the thralls of a crushing hallucinatory determinism imagined by Playwrights who grovel at the foot of seductive Lies(their own fantastical whims of autistic vain-glory); repeating tragically the eternal rotary platitudes… 

Eurydice doesn’t after all have to stay in Hell. 

The Maenads tear their hair out by the roots & have gone mad & just plain bald. 

…they’ve been found out: are full of shame, just plain temple whores, devouring our precious blood and vital Time. 

…King Odin is himself Asgard where ever he goes. 

There is no turning back. No recycling! No endless vicious circle like some French impasse.

A Pilgrim with a purpose. Theseus coming Home.

Winning instead of praising LOSS. Dans le Monde sans être du Monde. In the sea without getting wet.



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