TERMINAL

 

Tuesday, September 17, 2024

ABSTRACT TOTEM

  SAN SAN MILL

40 40 INTELLECT OF THE LORD

20:20 SEAL

-"Do not go, my son beloved,
Ignorant of Pohya-witchcraft,
To the distant homes of Northland
Till thou hast the art of magic,
Till thou hast some little wisdom
Do not go to fields of battle,
To the fires of Northland's children,
To the slaughter-fields of Lapland,
Till of magic thou art master.
There the Lapland maids will charm thee,
Turyalanders will bewitch thee,
Sing thy visage into charcoal,
Head and shoulders to the furnace,
Into ashes sing thy fore-arm,
Into fire direct thy footsteps."-

REPEATING SEQUENCE

FOUND The Religion of The Satan Christ

Real Black Magic

66/6 Proper

20:20 TOTEM

OX

WEASEL

RED KNOT

SQUIRREL

EAGLE

THE SKULL OF BONES

GRIZZLY BEAR

HONEY-BEE

MERMAID

TON TON ME

-"Wizards often have bewitched me,

And the fascinating serpents;

Lapland wizards, three in number,

On an eve in time of summer,

Sitting on a rock at twilight,

Not a garment to protect them,

Once bewitched me with their magic;

This much they have taken from me,

This the sum of all my losses:

What the hatchet gains from flint-stone,

What the auger bores from granite,

What the heel chips from the iceberg,

And what death purloins from tomb-stones.

"Horribly the wizards threatened,

Tried to sink me with their magic,

In the water of the marshes,

In the mud and treacherous quicksand,

To my chin in mire and water;

But I too was born a hero,

Born a hero and magician,

Was not troubled by their magic.

"Straightway I began my singing,

Sang the archers with their arrows,

Sang the spearmen with their weapons,

Sang the swordsmen with their poniards,

Sang the singers with their singing,

The enchanters with their magic,

To the rapids of the rivers,

To the highest fall of waters,

To the all-devouring whirlpool,

To the deepest depths of ocean,

Where the wizards still are sleeping,

Sleeping till the grass shoots upward

Through the beards and wrinkled faces,

Through the locks of the enchanters,

As they sleep beneath the billows."-

LORD BLESS THE RABOLA GENOME

12 STONE LEGEND

BRUTALIST SCORE

-Thou art sure a stupid fellow,
Foresight wanting, judgment lacking,
Having neither wit nor wisdom,
Coming here without a reason-