Liber Babalon focuses on the use of the voice as a musical, and magickal, tool:

Liber Babalon focuses on the use of the voice as a musical, and
magickal, tool:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Wearewithcraft/

Behold! I am He! the ANTICHRIST of the World. And I, even I, come
among you, my brethren, to enlighten your understanding. Thus do I now
make my true Manifesto unto you, that you may know the Truth, and that
the Truth may set you free!

And that which thou hearest is but the dropping of the dews from my
limbs, for I dance in the night, naked upon the grass, in shadowy
places, by running streams.

Dear Candida I am your Personal Saviour, I am the TRUTH THE LIGHT,

Liber Babalon focuses on the use of the voice as a musical, and
magickal, tool. The most powerful example of this magickal tool is the
voice of the goddess Babalon Herself, and it is in the interpretation
of Her words and Her voice that much of Liber Babalon is based. Many
of the tracks incorporate sounds generated through the readings of
transmissions from Babalon that She has given to humanity from over
two thousand years ago, up to the present. These include texts
delivered to the unknown scribe responsible for recording the Gnostic
text, Thunder, Perfect Mind, to the Elizabethans John Dee and Edward
Kelley, and to the relatively more recent figures of Aleister Crowley
and Jack Parsons.

Collected together, these words form the book of the title, Liber
Babalon; a Book of Babalon in which the words of the goddess take on
aural, rather than just written, form. A written form of the Liber
Babalon can be found by following the links below. These include some
of the texts included in the two discs, as well as other texts that
are a part of the Babalonian canon, even if they were not used for
this release.


Liber Babalon

1) The Birth of Babalon
2) The Thunder, Perfect Mind
3) The Vision and the Voice
4) Waratah Blossoms

5) She is Flame of Life
6) The Revelation of Babalon
7) The Daughter of Fortitude
8) The Seventh Enochian Call
9) Liber Cheth
10) A Rhapsody for Our Lady
11) Liber 49




Jack Parsons
&
join HE REVELATION OF BABALON
(from Revelations 17:3-6, by St. John the Divine) YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN
COME WITH US! (Anything you wish millions of dollars, 1000s of men/
women , power etc..)
Jack parsons:Part 21: Leaving Mecca
"No, Mohammed left Meccah, he didn't go to Meccah."

Dean looked at Zak with exasperation. It bugged him that Zak knew so
little of the Middle East-maybe some Jewish history and a little about
Israel and that was it. The American disease.

"The Hijra was when Mohammed left Mecca and went to Medinah, or
Yathrib as it was known then. Moslems date their calendar from this
event: Year 1 for the Moslems, but 622 A.D. in the West."

"I thought Moslems made a pilgrimage to Mecca," Zak said. To Dean he
sounded defensive.

"That's right. It's known as the hajj, and is one of the 5 pillars of
Islam. Make a pilgrimage to Mecca before you die."

"So why do they do that? I mean, Mohammed left there, right?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Listen. I'm just telling you what is. I don't
have to justify any of this. I assume they go to Mecca because that's
where Mohammed was from-like Bethlehem for Jesus. Also that's where
the mysterious black rock is, the Kaaba. It was previously a site of
pagan worship, but now has a huge mosque surrounding it."

"A black rock?" Zak's face showed his interest had perked up.

"Yes," Dean replied. "You know, an alien artifact. I wouldn't be
surprised if your Council of Nine didn't have something to do with
it." He said this in an innocent tone of voice.

"Can't you just accept it as a hypothesis that mankind has been-may
have been-in contact with other beings for thousands of years? Really,
it explains a lot."

Dean shrugged. "Okay." He wasn't offended by the idea. "And maybe the
Kaaba is a receiving station. Who knows, maybe even for your Nine."

"Keep in mind that the square root of nine is three," Zak said
thoughtfully.

Dean laughed. He rolled off the couch in laughter. He lay on his back
on the rug wiping his eyes.

"No, wait. Three-the Christian Trinity, right? Where did that come
from? Maybe from a tradition, or just an intuition, about the Nine."

"Right," Dean said, attempting to contain his mirth. He decided to go
along: "Hence that fake verse in the New Testament. Where is it?" Dean
pulled a book off the shelf and paged a moment. "Here it is: 1 John
5:7. For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the
Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one."

"Fake verse?" Zak asked. "In what sense is it a fake verse? I mean,
how it is more fake than any of the others?"

Dean grinned. "Good question. I mean it didn't appear in the original
canon which was fixed by the Church in the 4th century. The verse
wasn't in any of the Greek manuscripts. Instead it was inserted into
the third edition of Erasmus' Greek New Testament in the 16th century.
The verse was taken from the Latin Vulgate. Catholics didn't accept
the idea of the Trinity until the Council of Constantinople. When was
that? 380 A.D.? But afterward it was embarrassing that there was no
mention of the Trinity in the Bible. So some priests got creative and
manufactured the evidence."

"Three-in-one. So. The father, the son, and the holy ghost. What the
hell is the holy ghost?"

"I don't know. Didn't they make a movie about that with Bill Murray?
Holy Ghost Busters?

Dean and Zak were both cracking up now. It was good to relieve the
tension of the last several days.


http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Wearewithcraft/
by The Magician
Part 22: The Square Root of Minus One
Dean was annoyed with the way Zak was acting around his mother. Zak
would spend most of the time staring at her, except if she addressed
him he would look down at his plate as he responded. So when Zak threw
him an appealing look Dean instead joined in on Fourier's line of
humiliation.

Not that Dean wasn't often himself annoyed at Fourier. But his mother
was only human, after all, and if Fourier sometimes stayed overnight,
well, he preferred it was someone urbane and educated and normally
pleasant like Fourier, than, oh, say that young salopard at the
butcher shop who was always making eyes at her.

"The most famous equation in mathematics? Um, I would say , although
there are a few other candidates also," Dean said.

To Dean's satisfaction, Zak was now looking at him furiously.

"Precisely," Fourier said. "So, let's take logs of both sides. We get
that the log-we're referring to the natural log, of course-the log of
minus one is pi = 3.141592 etc. multiplied by i, the square root of
minus one. Remarkable, isn't it? You take the log of minus one, and
you get its square root multiplied by pi. But in any case, that should
settle the issue whether negative numbers have logarithms."

"Is there a point to all this?" Zak asked.

Fourier looked at him in genuine surprise. "Why, yes. Aside from the
sheer beauty of mathematics, it illustrates that there was something
there all along, right in front of one's eyes so to speak, which
people chose not to see. First they pretended negative numbers didn't
exist. Then they pretended that imaginary numbers, ones involving the
square root of minus one, didn't exist, or were absurd, or were
meaningless. Space debris, as it were. Now, that is exactly how it is
today when it comes to the spiritual world, the aliens, the things
that go bump in the night, the hyper-dimensional entities that
intersect our space-time, cases of coincidence, telepathy,
teleportation. We pretend they are not there, or if there, they are
meaningless or absurd, or even if they are real, well, so what, they
are useless. But any engineer knows how useful i-or j, as electrical
engineers call the square root of minus one-really is. The so-called
imaginary numbers, or complex numbers (those numbers having both a
real and an imaginary part), are some of the most useful in all of
mathematics."

Dean saw Zak's face light up at this. "So," Zak said, "to understand
the aliens I need to study imaginary numbers? Or complex
mathematics?"

"Well, I'm sure it would help," Fourier said, "but the simple point I
am making is that spiritual or hyper-dimensional phenomena are
imaginary." He paused and looked intently at Zak. "But they are
imaginary in the same way imaginary numbers are imaginary. They may be
imaginary, but they are very real, in some sense of physical reality.
They are built into the fabric of reality, and only a fool denies
reality."

Zak looked triumphantly at Dean. "So, what area of complex mathematics
would you recommend I start with?" he asked Fourier.

Fourier pondered the question seriously, as he consumed the last of
his canard à l'orange. Finally, as though after great difficulty, he
said: "Riemann's zeta function."

"Riemann's zeta function?"

"Otherwise known as the P.T. Barnum function," Dean interjected.
"There's a prime born every minute." Dean began laughing as his own
joke. He stopped when he saw that both Fourier and Zak were looking at
him hostilely.

Dean's mother came to the rescue. "We're having creme brulée for
dessert. Should I have it served now?"

* * * * *
I drove north. I had no destination. I drove more or less with the
same inattention I had driven out into the desert from Los Angeles.
Eventually I ended up on 395, still going north.

Later I would look at a map, trying to retrace my path. It wouldn't
compute. I had driven out into the desert into nowhere, and had
emerged from nowhere back into the ordinary world.

I was a fugitive, I guessed. At least until I sorted out what I wanted
to do about that butcher knife ending up in the belly of a man on Oral
Jerry Swagger's front lawn. Maybe it wasn't mine, but I doubted that,
after all that had happened. It had to be the two ghouls, the two men
in black-Little Olive and Big Pasty was the way I thought of them.
They had set me up good. First in the park, where I had left my
notebook. Oral Jerry Swagger's name prominent. Their attack had led me
to buy the butcher knife. Then . . . Then it appears I left it in the
hotel room and it ended up stuck in an OJS employee on Swagger's lawn
in Pasadena. Next there would undoubtedly show up a link back to the
Pasadena Hilton. Then my notebook would mysteriously surface.
Then . . .

I drove. Was this the way it had happened to Jack Parsons? He was
ready for a trip, a move to Mexico, to the 17th-century castle the
Mexican government was providing him-and then he got blown up in the
garage apartment he used as a laboratory while he was packing his car
for the trip. I was sure it was someone connected to the U.S.
government, trying to bury Parsons' technology-to maintain the
military monopoly.

But, who knows? Before this Jack, with his magical workings, had
opened a crack and something had flown in. Maybe Little Oliver and Big
Pasty flew in from that direction also. I glanced at the other end of
the seat. The Louisville slugger was still with me. There are a lot of
things you can do with a baseball bat. Even play baseball.

Mt. Whitney loomed to my left, and I reached the turnoff to drive to
the base of the mountain. I was tempted, but continued on. One year
three other fools and I had tried to climb Mt. Whitney in the winter
time, while it was covered with snow. The first night we camped at
8000 feet. One of the guys stetched out his legs and stuck his ice-
covered boots right by the fire, to melt the ice off them. After a
time, someone smelled something burning. He had burned half-way
through the rubber sole of one boot, without even feeling the heat.

The next day we had continued on up the mountain. I was well ahead of
the others when we decided to turn back, because the guy's foot was
freezing-the guy with half a sole. In attempting to catch up with
those below, I noticed a nicely sloped, snow-filled, but shallow
ravine, and hopped in and went sliding down at a nice pace on my rear
end. Then abruptly I had to brake my slide, because there was a sudden
sharp drop-off of about 15 feet, right in front of me. The ravine had
by this time deepened considerably, and I fumbled around trying to
figure out how to climb out of it. The snow kept getting deeper at the
edge of the ravine, and I was in snow up to my chest when it suddenly
all went whoosh, and I fell into a crevice. I had managed to wedge
myself at the top, using my upper arms, with my feet dangling. But
there was no hand or foothold, because everything was covered with
ice. And when I finally got out of the crevice, I was still faced with
the original problem.

I jumped down 15 feet into a point beside where I saw a rock peeking
out of the snow below, and survived without hurting myself.

Being a fugitive wasn't so bad, I decided, since by all rights I
should have been dead years ago. When the four of us got off Mt.
Whitney that day, we drove to Death Valley and had a wiener roast. We
were looking for highs and lows, all in the same trip.

I drove on.






I am an antichrist
I am an anarchist
Dont know what I want but
I know how to get it
I wanna destroy the passer by cos i

I wanna be anarchy !
No dogs body

Anarchy for the u.k its coming sometime and maybe
I give a wrong time stop a trafic line
Your future dream is a shopping scheme cos i

I wanna be anarchy !
In the city

How many ways to get what you want
I use the best I use the rest
I use the enemy I use anarchy cos i

I wanna be anarchy !
The only way to be !

Is this the m.p.l.a
Or is this the u.d.a
Or is this the i.r.a
I thought it was the u.k or just
Another country
Another council tenancy

I wanna be an anarchist
Oh what a name
Get pissed destroy !

I Am the Antichrist


Jack parsons:Part 21: Leaving Mecca
"No, Mohammed left Meccah, he didn't go to Meccah."

Dean looked at Zak with exasperation. It bugged him that Zak knew so
little of the Middle East-maybe some Jewish history and a little about
Israel and that was it. The American disease.

"The Hijra was when Mohammed left Mecca and went to Medinah, or
Yathrib as it was known then. Moslems date their calendar from this
event: Year 1 for the Moslems, but 622 A.D. in the West."

"I thought Moslems made a pilgrimage to Mecca," Zak said. To Dean he
sounded defensive.

"That's right. It's known as the hajj, and is one of the 5 pillars of
Islam. Make a pilgrimage to Mecca before you die."

"So why do they do that? I mean, Mohammed left there, right?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Listen. I'm just telling you what is. I don't
have to justify any of this. I assume they go to Mecca because that's
where Mohammed was from-like Bethlehem for Jesus. Also that's where
the mysterious black rock is, the Kaaba. It was previously a site of
pagan worship, but now has a huge mosque surrounding it."

"A black rock?" Zak's face showed his interest had perked up.

"Yes," Dean replied. "You know, an alien artifact. I wouldn't be
surprised if your Council of Nine didn't have something to do with
it." He said this in an innocent tone of voice.

"Can't you just accept it as a hypothesis that mankind has been-may
have been-in contact with other beings for thousands of years? Really,
it explains a lot."

Dean shrugged. "Okay." He wasn't offended by the idea. "And maybe the
Kaaba is a receiving station. Who knows, maybe even for your Nine."

"Keep in mind that the square root of nine is three," Zak said
thoughtfully.

Dean laughed. He rolled off the couch in laughter. He lay on his back
on the rug wiping his eyes.

"No, wait. Three-the Christian Trinity, right? Where did that come
from? Maybe from a tradition, or just an intuition, about the Nine."

"Right," Dean said, attempting to contain his mirth. He decided to go
along: "Hence that fake verse in the New Testament. Where is it?" Dean
pulled a book off the shelf and paged a moment. "Here it is: 1 John
5:7. For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the
Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one."

"Fake verse?" Zak asked. "In what sense is it a fake verse? I mean,
how it is more fake than any of the others?"

Dean grinned. "Good question. I mean it didn't appear in the original
canon which was fixed by the Church in the 4th century. The verse
wasn't in any of the Greek manuscripts. Instead it was inserted into
the third edition of Erasmus' Greek New Testament in the 16th century.
The verse was taken from the Latin Vulgate. Catholics didn't accept
the idea of the Trinity until the Council of Constantinople. When was
that? 380 A.D.? But afterward it was embarrassing that there was no
mention of the Trinity in the Bible. So some priests got creative and
manufactured the evidence."

"Three-in-one. So. The father, the son, and the holy ghost. What the
hell is the holy ghost?"

"I don't know. Didn't they make a movie about that with Bill Murray?
Holy Ghost Busters?

Dean and Zak were both cracking up now. It was good to relieve the
tension of the last several days.

"Anyway," Dean said, "that is the error of the Christians in the
Moslem view. There is only one God, Allah. God the Father, if you
will. Jesus was a prophet, and worked miracles, but he wasn't God. And
neither was this Holy Ghost."

The door to the library opened and a woman entered.

"Oh, hi mother," Dean said. He stood. "This is my friend Zak, the one
from America I was telling you about." Dean turned to Zak, and watched
Zak turn red and trip over his own tongue.

"I'm very pleased to meet you," Zak finally managed. Dean looked at
Zak appraisingly.

"Make yourself welcome in our home," she smiled at Zak. And then to
Dean: "Will dinner at nine be suitable?"

"Fine," Dean said. She nodded, smiled again at Zak, and left the
room.

"Yes?" Dean inquired, looking at Zak.

"I thought your mother would be, oh, I don't know, a grandmotherly
figure, maybe in her 70s. She's- She's beautiful!"

"So she is," Dean said dryly. He knew that for a woman in her 40s, his
mother was a strikingly voluptuous figure. But he didn't care to
discuss that with Zak. "Why don't I leave you here for a bit while I
go see how everyone is. Remember, your room is just down the hall, to
the left."

"Okay," Zak said happily.

* * * * *
After Dean had left the room, Zak looked around the library. Many of
the books were bound in leather, most of them in Arabic or French. A
few were in English. Zak recognized The Count of Monte Cristo, by
Alexander Dumas, and saw another called La Bas, by J. K. Huysman. Even
the English books are French, Zak thought to himself. Perhaps the
French books are all Arabic.

Zak leaned out a window and looked down the street. He could see the
sidewalk café on the corner, and between two buildings the Seine. Here
he was in Paris. He had never been out of the U.S. before.

Dean had led the escape from America. For that Zak was grateful-he had
been at his wit's end. Zak had returned home, tired from a day of
pouring concrete. The dust from the clay had permeated his hair and
clothes and dissolved in his sweat, and he was looking forward to a
long shower. But first he popped open a can of beer and turned on the
T.V. to the news. They were doing an update on the Oral Jerry Swagger
story-the one about the dead man who had been found on his lawn. But
now the station announced that it had obtained exclusive footage of a
cash transaction Swagger made with an unidentified man the day before
the dead man showed up on Swagger's lawn.

Zak straightened out of his slouch and stared at the T.V. It was the
footage he had Dean shoot of the dinner at L'Orangerie. He sat there
stunned, his mind racing. It had been another one of the "Sally Rand"
drops. He had carefully wrapped the developed film, placed it into the
bottom of a large brown grocery bag, put two mason jars on top of the
film package, written "Sally Rand" on the bag, and dropped it at a
place in San Marino.

He had been betrayed by Hoova. True, his own image always seemed a
little obscured on the film. Dean's cameramen had done their job well.
But he could recognize himself easily, which meant someone else could
also.

Zak did the only thing he could think of. He called Dean. Dean
listened to the story in silence. Finally Dean said, "Do you have a
passport, Zak?" The answer, surprisingly enough even to Zak himself,
was Yes. He had gotten one on impulse after a long Hoova message that
talked of ambassadors to mankind, and embassies, and passports, and
other analogies he couldn't remember now.

"We should take a trip. Now, traveling isn't cheap," Dean warned.

No problem, Zak had replied. He had kept his "tithe" from the Swagger
money, like Hoova had instructed. He in fact had $32,000 in cash. Yes,
he was very grateful to Dean. Dean had even dropped that bit about him
being a Mossad agent, taking Zak's obvious panic and plight at face
value.

But, maybe he should thank the Nine also. True, they had betrayed him.
But now here he was in Paris. Perhaps it had all served a higher
purpose. Zak couldn't escape the feeling, however, of having been
used. In all his previous missions Zak had performed behind the scene,
and had remained behind the scene. But then he had participated in
the . . . hit-the transfer of money-on Oral Jerry Swagger, and later
had seen himself in flagrante delecto on local T.V.

The messages via Hoova, messages from the Nine had assured him there
was nothing to worry about. Sure, that's what they said. "Once bitten,
twice shy," Zak thought to himself.

Zak began to explore the book shelves. The books had been collected
mostly by Dean's father. Dean had told Zak his father had been much
older than his mother. His father was already a successful engineer of
40 when he married her at 15. There was a dam named after him
somewhere in France. Dean's mother had barely attained 20 years of age
when her husband had been killed in Caan, only a year after having
been appointed the Lebanese Consul in Marseilles.

Zak took La Bas from the shelf, and went to his room. He stripped to
his shorts, stretched out on the bed and had managed to read a page or
two before falling asleep.

It was a troubled sleep. Voices and images haunted him. Accusing
fingers, pointing, "That's the man on the tape," whispering as he
tried to move to a different spot where he couldn't be seen. A table
behind a pillar, a different aisle of the grocery store, around the
corner and into the arch of a doorway.

Zak woke up several times, for a few seconds, his mind showing him the
actual reality of his safety here in Dean's house in Paris. Eventually
Zak relaxed and the images became more pleasant. Trips he had taken
with Dean up and down California. In one of them they were stopping in
Carmel, and when Zak got to his room at the Inn, there was Dean's
mother waiting for him. They kissed, and she said, "Feel my breasts."

Now in Zak's dream Dean's mother was naked on hands and knees,
pressing the side of her face against the bed as she looked back at
him. "Come on," Zak, she was saying, "slip that big Jewish schlong
inside me." Grabbing the sides of her buttocks, Zak pressed himself
firmly into her moist tunnel.

Zak suddenly opened his eyes to the now darkened room. Damn, he
thought, why does the mind always conk out just when it's getting
exciting?

Zak's erection was painful. Bladder pressure, he thought. He got up
and made his way in the darkness down the hall to the bathroom. And
when he swung open the door, there was Dean's mother, in slip and
panties, slip pulled to the waist, one leg perched on the toilet, a
leg naked and exposed to the top of the thigh as she rubbed it with
body lotion.

"Oh, hi Zak," she said. "We usually don't lock doors around here. Just
a quick knock will do."

"I'm sorry. Excuse me," Zak said in confusion, backing out of the
bathroom as he watched her rub cream into the inside of her left
thigh. As he closed the door he realized she had been looking at his
crotch. In the hallway darkness he quickly felt the front of his
shorts and found he was sticking straight out of the opening.

Zak began to wilt as he stumbled back to the bedroom. He crawled under
the covers, his face burning, and prayed that dinner time would never
arrive.



Dear Candida I am your Personal Saviour, I am the TRUTH THE LIGHT,
Behold! I am He! the ANTICHRIST of the World. And I, even I, come
among you, my brethren, to enlighten your understanding. Thus do I now
make my true Manifesto unto you, that you may know the Truth, and that
the Truth may set you free!

We discovered that the Number of Devil is not anymore 666 but

6 + 6 , 6*6 , 6 -6 so

12 , 36 , 0

3 , 9 , 0

A Deceased Sumerian Master appeared to G Crasti and told him 390 not
666!



(The Book of the ANTICHRIST Of Babylon written by a deceased UR
Sumerian Master trough and with the Jack Parson Body. (Rocket Fuel and
missiles were written by the same))
M or F ?
Where did you meet with Fr Hy the first time?
Where did you know about us?
Age?
Location?
Photoes?
join HE REVELATION OF BABALON
(from Revelations 17:3-6, by St. John the Divine) YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN
COME WITH US! (Anything you wish millions of dollars, 1000s of men/
women , power etc..)http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Wearewithcraft/
Black Moon Archives List 1http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Wearewithcraft/
Behold! I am He! the ANTICHRIST of the World. And I, even I, come
among you, my brethren, to enlighten your understanding. Thus do I now
make my true Manifesto unto you, that you may know the Truth, and that
the Truth may set you free!
Fr Hy
5 Oct 1949

Dear Candida



According to your last letter - although I may be able to give you
valuable technical advice from time to time - still you have probably
reached the point where your guidance - in terms of that necessary for
an appropriate decision - is adequate for your needs.

However, since Rome is such a new center, I wonder if it would not be
worth your while to spend a little time there. It is only one of the
three centers of opposition. I don't see how you will meet destiny in
Guadalahara - on the other hand you might - or in Oshkosh, Minsk,
Flatbush or any other place you may decide to go. This is quite
uninspired - as it should be - it is really not my concern at all.

After all, the other name of Armageddon will not be written until the
morning of Ragnarok, when at last Her banner is unfolded before the
armies. This part of the prophecy I have never told, and do not know
that I ever shall. So far it has been quite literal. I suppose I shall
see that bloody sunset, just as I have seen the rest. Well, I can
change nothing, nor do I care to. What is loosed is loosed, and well
loosed. All the rest calls for redemption; and nature moves inexorably
towards a balance. If I am used in that work - however ill used - I am
glad of it.

We can be insulated against everything but death - in fact, death is
the very substance of our insulation. But to be used by life we must
be naked and to be naked is to be hurt. But it is also to be alive.

--


KING JAMES BIBLE PDF
DEMONIC BIBLE PDF
1. Yea, it is I, BABALON. Then she gave me back 1000 times everything
she tried to steal and
destroy.

2. And this is my book, that is the fourth chapter of the Book of the
Law, He completing the Name, for I am out of NUIT by HORUS, the
incestuous sister of RA-HOOR-KHUIT.

3. It is BABALON. TIME IS. Ye fools.

4. Thou hast called me, oh accursed and beloved fool.

5-8. (Missing and presumed lost.)

9. Now know that I, BABALON, would take flesh and come among men.

10. I will come as a penelous (sic) flame, as a devious song, a
trumpet in judgement halls, a banner before armies.

11. And gather my children unto me, for THE TIME is at hand.

12. And this is the way of my incarnation. Heed!

13. Thou shalt offer all thou art and all thou hast at my altar,
witholding nothing. And thou shalt be smitten full sore and thereafter
thou shalt be outcast and accursed, a lonely wanderer in abominable
places.

14. Ye Dare. I have asked of none other, nor have they asked. Else is
vain. But thou hast willed it.

15. Know then that thus I came to thee before, thou a great Lord, and
I a maid enrapt. Ah blind folly.

16. And thereafter madness, all in vain. Thus it has been, multi-form.
How thou hast burned beyond.

17. I shall come again, in the form thou knowest. Now it shall be thy
blood.

18. The altar is aright, and the robe.

19. The perfume is sandal, and the cloth green and gold. There is my
cup, our book, and thy dagger.

20. There is a flame.

21. The sigil of devotion. Be it consecrated, be it true, be it daily
affirmed. I am not scorned. Thy love is to me. Procure a disk of
copper, in diameter three inches paint thereon the field blue the star
gold of me, BABALON.

22. It shall be my talisman. Consecrate with the supreme rituals of
the word and the cup.

23. My calls as thou knowest. All love songs are of me. Also seek me
in the Seventh Aire.

24. This for a time appointed. Seek not the end, I shall instruct thee
in my way. But be true. Would it be hard if I were thy lover, and
before thee? But I am thy lover and I am with thee.

25. I shall provide a vessel, when or whence I say not. Seek her not,
call her not. Let her declare. Ask nothing. Keep silence. There shall
be ordeals.

26. My vessel must be perfect. This is the way of her perfection.

27. The working is of nine moons.

28. The Astarte working, with music and feasting, with wine and all
arts of love.

29. Let her be dedicated, consecrated, blood to blood, heart to heart,
mind to mind, single in will, none without the circle, all to me.

30. And she shall wander in the witchwood under the Night of Pan, and
know the mysteries of the Goat and the Serpent, and of the children
that are hidden away.

31. I will provide the place and the material basis, thou the tears
and blood.

32. Is it difficult, between matter and spirit? For me it is ecstacy
and agony untellable. But I am with thee. I have large strength, have
thou likewise.

33. Thou shalt prepare my book for her instruction, also thou shalt
teach that she may have captains and adepts in her service. Yea, thou
shalt take the black pilgrimage, but it will not be thou that
returnest.

34. Let her prepare her work according to my voice in her heart, with
thy book as guide, and none other instructing.

35. And let her be in all things wise, and sure, and excellent.

36. But let her think on this: my way is not in the solemn ways, or in
the reasoned ways, but in the wild free way of the eagle, and the
devious way of the serpent, and the oblique way of the factor unknown
and unnumbered.

37. For I am BABALON, and she my daughter, unique, and there shall be
no other women like her.

38. In My Name shall she have all power, and all men and excellent
things, and kings and captains and the secret ones at her command.

39. The first servants are chosen in secret, by my force in her - a
captain, a lawyer, an agitator, a rebel - I shall provide.

40. Call me, my daughter, and I shall come to thee. Thou shalt be full
of my force and fire, my passion and power shall surround and inspire
thee; my voice in thee shall judge nations.

41. None shall resist thee, whom I lovest. Though they call thee
harlot and whore, shameless, false, evil, these words shall be blood
in their mouths, and dust thereafter.

42. But my children will know thee and love thee, and this will make
them free.

43. All is in thy hands, all power, all hope, all future.

44. One came as a man, and was weak and failed.

45. One came as a woman, and was foolish, and failed.

46. But thou art beyond man and woman, my star is in thee, and thou
shalt avail.

47. Even now thy hour strikes upon the clock of my FATHER. For He
prepared a banquet and a Bridal Bed. I was that Bride, appointed from
the beginning, as it was written T.O.P.A.N.

48. Now is the hour of birth at hand. Now shall my adept be crucified
in the Basilisk abode.

49. Thy tears, thy sweat, thy blood, thy semen, thy love, thy faith
shall provide. Ah, I shall drain thee like the cup that is of me,
BABALON.

50. Stand thou fast, and I shall pass the first veil to speak with
thee, through the stars shake.

51. Stand thou fast, and I shall pass the second veil, while God and
Jesus be smitten with the sword of HORUS.

52. Stand thou fast, and I shall pass the third veil, and the shapes
of hell shall be turned again to loveliness.

53. For thy sake shall I stride through the flames of Hell, though my
tongue be bitten through.

54. Let me behold thee naked and lusting after me, calling upon my
name.

55. Let me receive all thy manhood within my Cup, climax upon climax,
joy upon joy.

56. Yea, we shall conquer death and Hell together.

57. And the earth is mine.

58. Thou shalt (make the?) Black Pilgrimage.

59. Yea it is even I BABALON and I SHALL BE FREE. Thou fool, be thou
also free of sentimentality. Am I thy village queen and thou a
sophomore, that thou shouldst have thy nose in my buttocks?

60. It is I, BABALON, ye fools, MY TIME is come, and this my book that
my adept prepares is the book of BABALON.

61. Yea, my adept, the Black Pilgrimage. Thou shalt be accursed, and
this is the nature of the curse. Thou shalt publish the secret matter
of the adepts thou knowest, witholding no word of it, in an appendix
to this my Book. So they shall cry fool, liar, sot, traducer,
betrayer. Thou art not glad thou meddled with magick?

62. There is no other way, dear fool, it is the eleventh hour.

63. The seal of my Brother is upon the earth, and His Avatar is before
you. There is threshing of wheat and a trampling of grapes that shall
not cease until the truth be known unto the least of men.

64. But you who do not accept, you who see beyond, reach out your
hands my children and reap the world in the hour of your harvest.

65. Gather together in the covens as of old, whose number is eleven,
that is also my number. Gather together in public, in song and dance
and festival. Gather together in secret, be naked and shameless and
rejoice in my name.

66. Work your spells by the mode of my book, practicing secretly,
inducing the supreme spell.

67. The work of the image, and the potion and the charm, the work of
the spider and the snake, and the little ones that go in the dark,
this is your work.

68. Who loves not hates, who hates fears, let him taste fear.

69. This is the way of it, star, star. Burning bright, moon, witch
moon.

70. You the secret, the outcast, the accursed and despised, even you
that gathered privily of old in my rites under the moon.

71. You the free, the wild, the untamed, that walk now alone and
forlorn.

72. Behold, my Brother cracks the world like a nut for your eating.

73. Yea, my Father has made a house for you, and my Mother has
prepared a Bridal Bed. My Brother has confounded your enemies.

74. I am the Bride appointed. Come ye to the nuptials - come ye now!

75. My joy is the joy of eternity, and my laughter is the drunken
laughter of a harlot in the house of ecstasy.

76. All you loves are sacred, pledge them all to me.

Then she gave me back 1000 times everything she tried to steal and
destroy.

77. Set my star upon your banners and go forward in joy and victory.
None shall deny you, and none shall stand before you, because of the
Sword of my Brother. Invoke me, call upon me, call me in your
convocations and rituals, call upon me in your loves and battles in my
name BABALON, wherein is all power given!

Then she gave me back 1000 times everything she tried to steal and
destroy.


And when ready Book 49

"Take heed that no man deceive you. For many shall come in my name,
saying, I am Christ; and shall deceive many." Jesus and His disciples
thought the danger of deception in the last days was so great, they
repeatedly warned against it.



The San Mateo Times. JUNE 18 1952. OP Army/Navy ordnance experts
search



Participate our Great Grand Master want to know you!http://
groups.yahoo.com/group/Wearewithcraft/

Sacred Sex
A sexual relationship between a sacred sex practitioner and one or
more partners. The primary focus of the relationship is spiritual in
nature and often involves healing on a psychosexual level. This can be
a long-term or short-term relationship.






Jack Parsons
AKA Marvel Whiteside Parsons

Born: 2-Oct-1914
Birthplace: Los Angeles, CA
Died: 17-Jul-1952
Location of death: Pasadena, CA
Cause of death: Accident - Misc
Remains: Cremated, Ashes scattered in the Mojave Desert


Gender: Male
Religion: Cult
Race or Ethnicity: White
Sexual orientation: Straight
Occupation: Scientist, Religion

Nationality: United States
Executive summary: Satanic rocket scientist

Onetime friend of L. Ron Hubbard, until Hubbard fled to Florida with
Parson's girlfriend Betty and $20,970.80 of his money.

Father: Marvel H. Parsons
Mother: Ruth Virginia Whiteside (d., suicide)
Wife: Helen Parsons Smith (div. 1943)
Girlfriend: Sara Elizabeth Northrup (aka Betty)


High School: University School, Pasadena, CA
University: Pasadena Junior College, Pasadena, CA
University: University of Southern California (dropped out)
Scholar: Guggenheim Aeronautical Laboratory, California Institute
of Technology


American Civil Liberties Union
Ordo Templi Orientis
Lunar Crater
Risk Factors: Marijuana, Cocaine


Rotten Library Page:
Jack Parsons

.