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Too hot to be outside Not quite sleepwalking, but confused about what time it is and where I am, I flick the still-full glass of wine over by accident and the wine hits the floor between the twin beds. Automatically react and stumble to the bathroom for a towel. Begin dabbing up the wine. Liquid running seeping under the bed, manage to turn the light on and look under the lifted bedspread. Half asleep half awake I see something under the bed.

Wine's not going to get to it and I am done cleaning. It is filthy, and I think: go back to bed. July 26, in the morning, sun shining through the orange tapestry curtains. I think it is jetlag. I remember 2. While listening to Lupus in Fabuta I begin to inspect the contents of the box. Looks like a manuscript. Business card for a computer repair shop. Box with bracelet inside. Old postcard with image of Istanbul and old Turkish text on front and more writing on the back, stuck to a Librairie de Pera card.

A piece of paper carefully folded between the pages of the manuscript. It looks like a PGP encrypted public key but it is not complete. VCD of a movie entitled JaipasSommcil. A photocopy of the book Tomb for , Soldiers by Pierre Guyotat. Overwhelmed by entering a new level of adventure, I pull up the items of my new inventory one by one.

Sun blades rolling on my Scandinavian skin. Visit Ayasophia and look around. Can't figure out how I should use the walkthrough by tracing the cryptic letters and icons on the floor and walls. All churches are built upon blasphemy, as 2. The images of winged abominations in the corners of the ceiling.

The upper floor is a freak show of saints and martyrs, all protected by the seal which 1. It looks like the calligraphy writing on archways and on the outside of buildings here in Turkey. A small space with a black iron grate. Curious, I have to go look Notice a Liquid-Sky-like Astro boy figure on the floor of the main level as I am leaving. U On the way back to the hotel I get my iPod out and put the headphones on.

Walking back listening to the Music.. I contact other contributors at the Hy- perstition website who seem to have known RN for a relatively long time, but none of them have met RN or could offer much help. A contributor at Hyperstition asks if I know where Reza is because he has abruptly halted his regular contributions since June 18, suggesting to me that I contact RN's Iranian friends.

Some of the people I contacted suggest that RN must be a fictional invention of Hyperstition. A few people think RN might be another avatar of one of the contributors at Hyperstition website, and finally some took Reza at face value, believing that he would need to host his site outside of Iran to circumvent any internet laws that could cause problems for him maybe that's why he removed so many posts at Hyperstition. At first I thought female, but now I would like to believe that RN is male.

I wake up and the room is glowing orange like the way the drapes look when the sun is curtained. There is an endless passion to be enciphered in this room for ever The four walls are falling in closer and turning into orange red with layers of bodies and fermenting orange pink blood lubricating them. The window.

Think this is one of the places where books are chosen by the dust they attract rather than their covers; the more dust they collect, the more exciting they get. The store is rich with the fragrance of an old bath dissolved into dust and decayed paper. Ask for Guracor as his name is on the card. The owner is not there so I lay out the postcard and the notes written on the front and back for his assistant.

He does not speak English well enough to understand me fully He points to the top text on the card and says 'no Turkey'. I say, Arabic? He shakes his head. I point to the handwriting on the card on the note section Walk back up Istiklal Caddesi and stop in a cafe for a glass of wine. Weird, because the postcard says Danzig, so it can't be the church up the street.

He looks at the text on the back and says the top text may be old Turkish It I pull up a section named The Z. I search online for Nergal and Tell- Abraim. I switch to page as the page has been marked by a pink magic marker. Pulp-horror takes this stage-flight to its full-fledged extremes.

All that comes in must go out by any means possible. Yet I continue to read. My head hurts between my eyes. Should get some Advil or I won't sleep but too frustrated to get up; Relax my mouth, relax my feet and toes, finally begin to feel some pleasure taking away the pain in my head, like the pleasure of losing your limbs one by one. The only thing that makes me feel secure is having repeated visions of being XXX I'm not sure if I vaguely think it is 7.

Get up to go to the bathroom. Take 2 more Advils. Will I have enough to make it through the trip? Left hand downward tight between my legs and holding the tapestry bedspread I don't know why At some point I give up as the drumming in my head takes over. Sleep the only way to stop. There is someone in the window across the way who keeps looking over at me. Wonder whether, H an antique seller or a retie expert ran a restaurant, the setting would be like this.

I head down the stairs to leave. The stairs have a unique space of their own, a Piranesiesque structure spiraling down. I notice a James Spader photo there on the wall. James Spader - my favorite cult actor! Wonder to myself, do celebrities carry around glossy photographs of themselves to autograph everywhere they go?

As I am writing now in room , and picking up letters, the chair is swiveling and leaving marks on the wall. It looks like a constellation of inscriptions written on the wail with infinite barbs and talons; it is the shape of writing. I wonder what this manuscript's shape of writing is. Take a cab very far, maybe two hours in traffic, to the shop to try and find the laptop and additional information Get there, finally find the place and present the card.

The store owner disappears leaving another guy with me. The shop is located in a bazaar with various stands. I think, well, after coming all the way to Maltepe, I should make the trip worthwhile I've been wanting a tattoo anyway. The owner finally returns with a black laptop that looks oldish. I ask him if I can turn it on to check it out. He wants me to pay first, but 1 say I want to test it.

Boot it. The thing runs loud and loads slow. When the desktop comes up, 1 see there are the usual icons, clustered on a black and white grainy image of what looks like a human cutting himself open with a straight razor. As I switch to the start program. Go into Documents, but when I try open one. I find they are all PGP encrypted.

Every single one of them. I go on the search browser and check the history and bookmarks When the guy is not looking. I slip it into my bag. Then tell the owner I'll come back to pick the laptop up after I get the money. Think about it as I walk around and decide the laptop is really useless. If I can't pass through these plot holes, then it is the best to leave my own holes.

One page is missing, one or two lines are pseudonymously or anonymously quoted, one scene leaks from the future to the past, an object evades chronological sequences, a number turns into a cipher, everything looms as an accentuated clue around which all subjects aimlessly orbit, leading into an eclipsed riddle whose duty is not to enlighten but to make blind aporos to the light. Looks very nice, with wooden-framed furniture and qlim cushions.. I think back to the only time I tried this in New Orleans Back to the room.

It vaguely reminds me of F. Cornford's The Unwritten Philosophy. Also reminds me of the artist who makes those Rodent sculptures I saw at the Saatchi Gallery in London, like chunks of rats layered and layered on each other. Found something very interesting in the wardrobe of The concept of progress must be grounded in the idea of catastrophe. That things are 'status quo' is the catastrophe.

It is not an ever-present possibility but what in each case is given. Thus Strindberg in To Damascus? I must remember to check the reference to Strindberg online. I try the bracelet on; it fits perfectly and rests on the front of my hand in the most curious manner. I wear the bracelet to the Artist Bazaar to ask about the purchaser First irritation, but now days later after putting more lotions on it seems worse.

Past the point of pink, it is raw red where the skin is open the size of a penny. Edge of round blister is black along most of the line. I sit in the room constantly touching it, pressing down the infection. Don't touch, I think. When it is time to leave and I can not find RN or 1, I decide to take the manuscript back to the US with the intention of publishing it.

Um ol-Ghathra was in a caravan heading to Khurasan, Iran for trade and pilgrimage, hwards the end of its journey, the caravan changed its direction m the rvght becouse what they sighted ahead m thetr assumed direction was a lagoon instead of a city. After a few days of wandering, they headed back for thetr homes. Once settted. Time passed, and Um al-Ghathro heard from feikw tracers that the caravan hod changed its course by mistake on that night: their orientation hod in fact been good; whot they had mistaken for a salt lake was o pyramid formed from o pile of tens of thousands of skulls from the recentiy socked city.

The commotion has begun over the newly discovered notes of the former professor of Tehran University, the archeologist and researcher of Mesopotamian occultural meltdowns. Middle East and ancient mathematics, Dr. Hamid Parsani. The notes — more like the contents of Parsani's office trash can than a notebook of an exceedingly disciplined scholar — have been disclosed to the Hyperstition team by one of Parsani's secret students who teaches ancient middle-eastern languages in one of the branches of Azad University in Iran.

Even during the post-Revolution era, permission was never given for re-publication of the book. After his academic exile , Parsani was hired by a middle- eastern architectural practice based in Egypt. Enjoying financial security over a long period, he eventually nullified his contract with the Egyptian company and established a private research institute which lasted for nine months.

There is no information about Parsani's activities from to ; he suddenly disappeared along with his team. One reliable source, however, confirms that Parsani contacted a family in Kerman believed to be the descendants of the Haftvad dynasty, the legend of whose wealth and terrible fate is well-known in Iranian folklore. Before the rise of the Sassanids the last dynasty before Islam in Persia , at the time that Ardeshir, the founder of the Sassanid dynasty, conquered all regions of Persia one after another, only this one mighty family succeeded in standing against Ardeshir.

The destruction of the worm is believed to have sealed a permanent curse on Kerman, according to which the city would eventually be destroyed. An old colleague describes him regretfully as a volatile genius entertaining a bunch of teenage nitwits: 'He constantly rambles on about a heretic Zoroastrian mage and sorcerer named Akht who was mentioned in the Zoroastrian books Denkard and Yavisht i Friyun. His skin disease, I think, has entered a more serious phase.

It is difficult for me. Nevertheless, his recent remarks seem to converge with the one and only book he published, but from an opposite direction. Finally, I should add that what my other colleagues identify as defective prose or an unscholarly approach is more than anything a quite logical and predictable development of his initial writings into something appropriate to these theories and discoveries — something that perfectly matches the nonjudgmental monstrosity of his chronic illness, or what he used to call leper creativity.

Anush Sarchisian According to Parsani's notes, he discovered two carvings of the cross: one in Kerman province recovered by the Haftvad family after the Bam earthquake in and one in the ancient city of Susa near Ahvaz, Iran.

In BCE. Ashurbanipal, the king of Assyria, triumphantly claimed that in order to purge the land and cleanse the kingdom of creatures, he carried away the bones of the Elamite people toward the land of Ashur. This first carving, according to the notes, had been partly eroded. The cross is comprised of two main parts, the star- head and the handles. But one side of the decagon is forked, to form two handles. The last sacred triangle has been intentionally replaced by two vertical parallel lines, and this for reasons unknown.

Recall, however, that they spoke always of a buried terrestrial sun which must be exhumed, a rotting sun oozing black flame, the black corpse of the sun. And even the name Akht corresponds to the incomplete form of the broken star. The notes show that Parsani later obtained a handmade model of the cross in the city of Taft Yazd province, Iran. The cross, Parsani's examination determined, belonged to the late fourteenth or early fifteenth century, having been made sometime after Timur's Tamerlane conquest of Persia: I came upon an artfully crafted model of the cross in the old bazaar.

At every corner of the triangles there is one rotating joint; the last two joints connect the star-head to handles, the latter being in the form of knee-joints, whose rotation is limited to 90 degrees, so that fully rotated they form two opposing horizontal lines. This peculiar arrangement gives the additional property that the cross can be folded into something else, another entirely different artifact, another cross: In unfolding the cross, one rotates the joints on the triangles synchronously, with equal force distributed on the two handles, thus pushing them in opposite directions towards each other Correspondingly, the decagonal head of the cross is folded to an upside-down cruxcommissa the letter T.

Anthony's cross, initially used in worship of the summer Sun or Sun god. Am I mistaken in believing that the downward crux commissa bespeaks a symbolic emphasis on a rebellious position against the sun. The downward cross might also insinuate a descent, perhaps a fallen Sun god or the collapse of the solar empire. Further, each corner of the star each triangle is marked by a number, inner vertices running from 1 to 8 in this model clockwise and essentially stepwise , external vertices in an opposite direction anti-clockwise from 1 to 9.

On each side of the triangles, there is an unfinished sentence or word. The Cross of Akht can diagram planetary events of epic proportions in the form of various modes of heterogeneous or anomalous narration. The cross of Akht, and its transformations, offer a diagram for the intrepid blasphemy of the Middle East against all modes of global hegemony and political models which perceive global dynamics as a whole.

Each outer vertex makes a nine-sum and ten-sum coupling with inner vertices. Handles of the cross are numerically designated as zero. On another page, Parsani gives a further description of the Cross of Akht: All three crosses are in the form of broken stars with triangles mounted on a decagon. The Haftvad version of the cross is unique: Triangles have been carved over a circle which environs three intertwining snakes whose coils are aligned together along three intersecting axes A - Part of the carved relief has been terribly eroded but the carving of the circle portrays reptilian scales of cycloid type which add to the enigmatic quality of this carving.

Such reptile scales belong only to the Typhlopidae family of snakes whose rostral scale overhangs the mouth to form a shovel-like burrowing structure and whose tail ends with a horn-like scale. All this attests — if I am not mistaken — to the fact that the circle with its snake-ridden interior must be Akht's Wheel of Pestilence.

These sinister visual connotations conspire with the physical weight of the Haftvad cross, lending it the aspect of a weapon rather than a mere diagram. Mace or club-like, it corresponds to the mace of Aeshma- Daeva who in the demonolatry of Zoroastrianism sleeps with Manushak. The offspring of this consummation is a cult whose every activity, whether righteous or corrupting, damages the order of creation and reduces its wholeness. This is the cult upon which Akht based and assembled his own cult.

In a religious scripture bequeathed to the Haftvad family by their ancestors, we find mention of thirty-six enigmas or riddles posed by Akht in confrontation with the Zoroastrian Yavisht from the Friyan family, three of which are left unanswered by Yav- isht. The Zoroastrian scriptures, however, give a distorted account of this event, according to which there were only thirty-three riddles, all of which Yavisht answered in his duel with Akht.

Akht was executed by Yavisht for being defeated in the contest. In contrast to the Zoroastrian scriptures, Akht disappears after forging his cross over the course of fourteen Fridays. Tellurian dynamics, warmachines and petropolitics, models for grasping war-as-a-machine and monotheistic apocalypticism, all in connection with the Middle East.

The discussion was spiralling through a series of theoretical confrontations between jungle militarism the Vietnam war or the process of NAMification and desert-militarism War-on- Terror and Mecca-nomics. The discussion at Hyperstition ultimately developed into what would later be defined as 'biobjectivity', or the logics of petropolitical undercurrents. Eradication as a process spreads out in at least three directions: 1 the leveling of all planetary erections idols?

The answer is oil: War on Terror cannot be radically and technically grasped as a machine without consideration of the oil that greases its parts and recomposes its flows; such consideration must begin with the twilight of hydrocarbon and the very dawn of the Earth.

The Ancient Enemy is trying to spread its gospel via three chosen characters. The Ancient Enemy or the Tellurian Antichrist which persistently looms in the Mesopotamian dead seas originally where Antichrist comes from or near the oceans is Petroleum or Naft Arabic and Farsi word for oil. According to the classic theory of fossil fuels i. Xerodrome is the Earth of becoming-Gas or cremation-to-Dust. Monotheism in its ultimate scenario is a call for the Desert — the monopolistic abode of the Divine.

In the end, everything must be leveled to fulfill the omnipresence and oneness of the Divine. So that for radical Ji- hadis, the desert is an ideal battlefield; to desertify the earth is to make the earth ready for change in the name of the Divine's monopoly, as opposed to terrestrial idols.

In line with Wahhabi and Taliban Jihadis, for whom every erected thing, so to speak, every verticality, is a manifest idol, the desert, as militant horizontality, is the promised land of the Divine. In light of the emphatic horizontality of the desert in monotheistic apocalypticism. Deleuze and Guattari's model of horizontality or plane of consistency can only be a betrayal of radical politics and a hazardous misunderstanding of the war machine.

However, in geological reality, monotheism functions as an involuntary host for Tellurian insurgencies and undercurrents; it is directly connected to the twisted nether regions of the Earth itself. Monotheism is a convoluted plane of tactics and meta-strategies for giving rise to Tellurian blasphemies or twisted strains of geological reality.

In the wake of monotheism, Tellurian insurgencies feed on their corresponding, seemingly religious counterparts belonging to the monopoly of the Divine: the blobjective earth is nurtured by petropolitics. Tellurian Omega grows on the desert of God, ad infinitum The Kingdom of Apocalypse or monotheistic desert is a passageway through which the Earth's ultimate blasphemy with the Outside smuggles itself in and begins to unfold.

Camouflaged within the formation of belief, Tellurian insurgencies can be safely accelerated, steadily developed, anomalously recomposed and intensified by anthropomorphic entities, either through religions or through seemingly secular societies whose economic systems are still rooted in monotheistic platforms. In which case, there is no worse Tellurian blasphemy than 'Thy Kingdom come'. Those Mecca-nomic agencies of War on Terror who consider everything that is not a desert a violation against the all-consuming hegemony of God crave for the desert as a ground independent of Earth and its inhabitants; but what they actually achieve, and passively cooperate with, is the Tellurian insurgency of the Earth toward Xerodrome.

On this plane, you either turn into diabolical particles, or evaporate and are recollected as cosmic-pest ingredients. While for western technocapitalism, the desert gives rise to the oiliness of war machines and the hyper-consumption of capitalism en route to singularity, for Jihad oil is a catalyst to speed the rise of the Kingdom, the desert. Thus for Jihad, the desert lies at the end of an oil pipeline.

Or, once again, take Oil as a lubricant, something that eases narration and the whole dynamism toward the desert. The cartography of oil as an omnipresent entity narrates the dynamics of planetary events. Oil is the undercurrent of all narrations, not only the political but also that of the ethics of life on earth. Oil lubes the whole desert expedition toward Tellurian Omega either as the Desert of God or the host of singularity, the New Earth.

As a Tellurian lube, oil simply makes things move forward. To grasp oil as a lube is to grasp earth as a body of different narrations being moved forward by oil. In a nutshell, oil is a lube for the divergent lines of terrestrial narration.

X A lot to deal with here. Crude summary: Oil as - Narrative organizer, definitely heart of gloopy darkness. Parsani comes up with the idea that there is no darkness in this world which has not its mirror image in oil.

In this sense, petroleum is a terrestrial replacement of the onanistic self-indulgence of the Sun or solar capitalism. If basking in solar economy overlaps with the annihilationist and nihilistic capitalism of the Sun, then how is it possible to dismantle this infernal hegemony without eradicating it? Bush and Bin Laden are obviously petropolitical puppets convulsing along the chthonic stirrings of the blob. Collapse all manifest policies and ideologies onto the Tellurian narratives of oil seepage.

Z: The oil industry is utterly ruinous for independent and non-collective oil producers. However in the case of the Islamic front, oil has been mutated into a kind of constructive parasite through which economical, military and political brotherhood emerges.

In other words, Islam has made for a petropolitical network fueled and meshed by Jihad and its monotheistic protocols. Jihad positively participates with oil both in feeding blob-parasites i. At this point, the Islamic Apocalypticism of Jihad as a religio-political event and the role of oil as the harbinger of planetary singularity overlap. This act of submission to the all-erasing desert of God is called the religion of taslim or submission, that is to say, Islam.

If oil runs toward the desert, so does everything that is dissolved in it. The decimal sequence of the unfolded cross prior to its eventual folding to an upside-down T is either for the peaks or for the troughs. As an occulturally degenerate structure, the Tree of Life is based on a macho-orgasmic model of progression. However, based on the folding of the Cross of Akht. The only relevant decimal progression for decoding the Cross of Akht or the Gog-Magog Axis is that of nine-sum pairs, or what is called nine-sum sorcery.

Nine is delineated by its multiplicative imperfectability and utter evasion of unity or authoritarian divination, i. One or 1 0 : The nine-sum waves or folds of the Cross of Akht include As Parsani observed, when synchronous forces are applied to the handles or the planes of zero in opposite directions and toward each other, the unfolded cross begins to contract into another cross, the upside-down T.

The numbers of the inner and outer vertices of the cross are added to each other as the triangles are folded. The process of unfolding and folding in the Cross of Akht manifests itself as a decimal progression. The decimal progression is developed through the participation between twin peaks and off-peaks whose sum is equal to nine: 0 and 9,1 and 8,2 and 7,3 and 6,4 and 5.

In this case, there are only five pairs of nine-sum twinning. The common characteristic of syzygies — that is, their being a nine-sum — is called zygonovism. Zygonovism and syzygy are the basic elements of the Numogram as the imperfectible counterpart of the Tree of Life.

The Numogram spontaneously unfolds as decimalism itself, 0 to 9 See Fig. One of the main differences between the Numogram and the Tree of Life is that the Tree of Life can only be created, whereas the Numogram is decimally autonomous. The completion of the Tree of Life is eventuated by the act of creation which is numerically diagrammed by the number 10 created from the preexisting numbers 1 and zero. Therefore, the Tree of Life corresponds with a pro-creationist obsession.

The Numogram, however, is already there, lurking, as 9. According to the Cross of Akht, flat extensions the handles of the cross marked as X and Y function as disjunctive zeros or planes of zero-tolerance. These flat extensions provide the artifact with a dynamism which is distributed through syzygies or through the triangles, folding them to each other. The movement of X and Y Gog and Magog toward each other is maintained by petropolitical undercurrents, or the flow of the Tellurian Lube Oil as written on the handles of the artifact.

Inevitably sliding on the oily bedrock or the Tellurian Lube, X and Y approach each other in opposite directions through a numogrammatic decimal progression. The Gog-Magog Axis or the Cross of Akht is the numerical elaboration of the dynamism of Islam and techno-capitalism toward each other in the War on Terror. The End Dkaws Neak.

If one side — either X or Y, Gog or Magog — progresses while the other side remains static, the decimal sequence can be counted in the form of a countdown. Consequently, the dynamism of the Axis can be prophesied 4 after 3 after 2 after 1, for example. Belief5 will emerge as a legitimating tool for the dominant movement viz.

Such a belief transcendentally gives rise to an inexorable telos on the side of the dominant movement of either X or Y , providing the dominant side with a legitimate ruling hegemony. The movements of X and Y can be expressed by their relative decimal sequences, either or On the Gog-Magog Axis, however, the risk of a dominant movement or hegemony is undermined by participations and interlocking movements triggered by petropolitical undercurrents.

Here, numbers are not counted; they build each other by folding and twinning, by rise and fall, both continuous and discontinuous movements at the same time. For both X and Y, the movement is relative. The End Draws Near is dynamically ambiguous, it is the approaching of the other side from both ends. While for Capitalism, the other side is Islam, for Islam Capitalism constitutes the other side.

Yet at the same time, earth is the other side for both Islam and Capitalism — not in the sense of exteriority, but an outsider which has crept in. Although X and Y approach each other in opposite directions, they synergistically assemble the Gog-Magog Axis as a decimal disease system knitted on occult tellurian social dynamics. The Axis is assembled through the folding of the peaks and troughs as X and Y slide on their oily bedrock call it Pipeline Odyssey or the Devil's Excrement toward each other Eventually, X and Y pleat their syzygies into one fold: the dam of the Gog and Magog, the or composition.

The entire panorama is a complicity between X, Y and anonymous materials. See Fig. And he said further, bring me molten brass, that I may pour upon it. Wherefore, when this wall was finished, Gog and Magog could not scale it, neither could they dig through it. After all triangles fold onto each other and the broken star contracts into a downward crux commissa or an upside-down T, a new fold emerges between X and Y or Gog and Magog.

This ultimate decimal fold is the zone of the most intense conflictual activities between Gog and Magog. Such intense conflicts will eventually make the protective dam collapse see the Quranic reference above. In other words, these activities deteriorate the vertical fold. But zero converges upon nothing. If zero is divided by any number, the result is zero. Therefore, the emerged region of Uttunul corresponding with the Numogram sinks into zero see Fig. The vertical fold decimally diagrammed as or cannot be tolerated by zero; therefore, it is flattened and leveled with the plane of zero tolerance.

The final fold of the Gog-Magog Axis implodes on zero and the horizontally consistent desert of Xerodrome is born. The Gog-Magog Axis reaches utter immanence with the burning core of the real — the earth's iron ocean — and the solar tempest. However, in terms of proximity to and contact with oil.

As a nine-sum twin, corresponds to Oil, which in Anglossic Qabalah is equal to The outside or the other side is deeply swamped in oil. As the Gog and Magog fold their oily cradle through friction, opposite movements and anomalous participations, depletion or being burnt into something else becomes imminent, see Fig. Zaynab bint Jahsh said, The Prophet Mohammad got up from his sleep; his face was flushed and he said, there is no god but Allah.

Woe to the Arabs, for a great evil which is nearly approaching them. Today a gap has been made in the wall of Cog and Magog like this Sufyan illustrated this by forming the number of 90 or with his fingers. Someone asked, Shall we be destroyed even though there are righteous people among us? The Prophet said. Yes, if evil increases.

Abu Hurairah said, The Prophet said. The people asked, O Messenger of Allah, what is Harj? Both Uttunul and Djynxx are diagrammed by their outsideness. The Numogram operates with nine-sum sorcery as opposed to the ten-sum construction or Sephiroth in the Tree of Life — imperfectability and inconclusiveness rather than perfectionism. Hyperstitional Entities of Oil. Narrative avatars of oil provide petroleum with the opportunity to take part in different terrestrial panoramas.

A taxonomic diagram of petroleum avatars in different narrations gives a more lucid grasp of oil as a component of contemporary warmachines and the War on Terror. The Hunter of the Dead Seas. Ghaul-e Naft or the Oil-fiend in old Arabic and Farsi fictions and folklore stalks over the deserted plains of Arabia.

The Nether 8lob. And since the colonies of these oil-producing bacteria are moving, oil distribution is not permanent and will shift. The continuation of oil wars or their final end imply huge revelations and their corresponding consequences on every level of planetary life.

And the equation of blood and oil — the assumption that blood is the price of oil — can only be grounded on the impoverishing theory of finite fossil fuels or the production of oil from organic matter. Oil pacifists support the totalitarian poverty of oil through the myth of porphyrin fossil traditionalism they accept.

The Black Corpse of the Sun. Parsani's later occultural, archeological and theoretical notes elaborately follow the abstract diagram of petroleum as a broken star, a broken decagon with triangles arranged on its sides. Parsani insists that oil or the Tellurian pest worshipped by Akht in the Avestan language of ancient Persia, the name means pest, or saturated by poison and his cult, can be grasped numerically on the economic plane.

Fragments from the shape of the pest can be discerned and extracted from stock markets, trade meshworks and economic anomalies. V An autonomous chemical weapon belonging to earth as both a sentient entity and an event. Petroleum poisons Capital with absolute madness, a planetary plague bleeding into economies mobilized by the technological singularities of advanced civilizations. In the wake of oil as an autonomous terrestrial conspirator, capitalism is not a human symptom but rather a planetary inevitability.

In other words, Capitalism was here even before human existence, waiting for a host. Oil as the post-mortem production of organisms is bound to death. Oil as hydrocarbon corpse juice is itself a mortal entity which has been the source of ideology for petro-masonic orders and their policies — from OPEC to the agencies of War on Terror to pomo-leftists. It is extracted through teleological instrumentalization of the socio-political body of the Earth. OPEC is suspected of being associated with other entities of the Blob as well.

Pathological symptoms effectuated by the myth of fossil fuels can be summarized as: i. The policy of underdevelopment and deliberate impoverishment bound to the exhaustibility of oil fields: since oil is dying we must use it wisely and calculatedly the fallacy of prudent poverty.

Inhibition of Excess and inherent suppression connected to moraliza- tion of the earth aka the Green Judgment. Socio-political programming of planetary systems based on the depletion of petroleum. Everything oily has been manufactured with and toward death. Oil, a sado-conspiracist which under develops societies and economic systems through petropolitics to tear them apart slowly. Gaia's aromatic juice. The Pipeline-Crawler Go-juice , a code name for an autonomous vehicle which smuggles Islamic war machines into Western Civilizations — but on the other side of the panorama, it is in fact the slow penetration of other narrative entities of petroleum into the rectal depths of all political orientations, whether formulated on religious platforms or not.

Petroleum is at the same time the desensitizer, the lubricant and the object of intrusion. Infemotron, or simply the US pyrodemonism with tentacles spreading through both thematic theism — the cleansing tide of the cathartic fire the Greco-Latin theme chained to Aryanistic purity — and the mess- engineering process of incomplete burning associated with Zippo Jobs in the Vietnam War and the NAPALM-obsession of the US war machine: 'I'll go to Hell with a can of gasoline in my hand' Colonel West.

Export all commodities through oil. In the wake of contemporary petropolitics the slogan. The time of discovery was three months prior to his final disappearance and the arrival of an international team of archeologists in the region to secure relics before the flooding of the recently constructed Sivand Dam.

This systematically domesticated cross outlines the Order of Farrah or the divine wholeness, a carefully designed diagram to appease the onanistic hubris of the Dominus, the supreme being of monotheism. The number , as Parsani repeatedly points out.

The diameter of the high-heaven, the celestial abode of the Divine, environing the primal oceans and the Earth as stated in The Pahlavi Rivayats B. Dhabher, Bombay. The modification of the Cross of Akht belongs to a period when dualistic notions in Zoroastrianism were purged and it was converted into a firmly-rooted prototype of all monotheistic religions.

In middle-eastern sorcery and gematria ABJAD , numerical bonds must be as simple as possible to correspond with the smooth and clandestine dynamism of nomadic and insurgent warmachines. The simplicity of numerical connections is structurally and functionally identical to a steric arrangement in a chemical compound, where molecular structure achieves the maximum effect with a minimum of bonds and elements. To this extent, numeric connections can only achieve effectiveness and efficiency when the connections are more than one but not more than two.

This seemingly dichotomous structure can be the source of terminal multiplicity and divergent movements. Such numerical simplicity is comprised of two bonds, one on the side of imperfection or inconclusiveness, the other generating completion and perfection. This would require two heads. While one head is exploring the opportunities for pimping out the monopoly of the Divine using it as a camouflaged pest-feeding farm , the other head is flushing the divine into an imperfectable whole-degenerating space of irresolution and unbelief.

This arrangement is the realization of Decadence, a tide of degeneration rising and progressing from the other side. In decay, the path to perfection is a shortcut toward the perpetual degeneration of the ideal. In this sense. Decadence of deea or ten denotes neither the annulment of ten nor its sovereignty, but the differential perforation between them. Parsani writes; Such a pragmatically effective simplicity is sublimated in a triangle with one vertex fulfilling a sum coordinate with the second vertex and engaging in a 9-sum coupling with the third vertex See Fig.

Constituted of three dots tri-dotted or vertices, Trison is the unit of polytical and strategic double-dealing or double-numbering ; therefore, it opposes the Order of Farrah or wholesomeness of creation. In terms of Trison, it is easy to constantly retreat from one side and emerge from another side rapidly and without a trace, enmeshing a zone of radical betrayal. Drem is an adjective describing the limitless impurity of Druj The Mother of Abominations.

In every Trison, the number that makes a ten-sum perfectionism and a nine-sum sorcery with the two other numbers vertices is frequently associated with a Deava demon of some obscure kind named deava-mahmi. No description in Avestan or Pahlavanic religious scriptures has been associated with this demon.

Deava-mahmi, the demon of betrayal and treason, is a double-dealer who carries out an unknown mission on behalf of Ahriman or the primordial Zurvan, the ultimate full body of Pest on the side o f. Parsani's note continues on to the next page which has been lost. On Trison and the crypto-fractal structure of secret societies and terrorist cells see the rare copy of Recent Research in Itihlv Ixinds at Librame de Pera.

As Parsani notes, these numbers in a triangular format — making a 9-sum coupling on the one side and a 1 0 -sum completion on the other side — are associated with deava-mahmi, a betraying demon worshipped by a number of Zurvanite and early Christian-Mithraistic cults.

Therefore, it is Angra-Mainyu Ahriman or — as oversimplified by Judeo-Christianity — Satan who possesses the secret of creation as the first son of Zurvan. Here, the obscurity of the betrayal's purpose is more dreadful than its perversion. The double-numbering mechanism of such betrayal has also been a source of inspiration for the configuration of the Middle East's political formations and state-nomad warmachines.

In fact, nothing can survive the onrush of growing heresies once such betrayals become inseparable from everyday life. The Grand Betrayal or Mithro-Druj13 is an all-inciusive invitation, a capital YES to everyone and everything, an ultimate welcome to all and everything; for this reason it secures a diffusive and affirmative epidemic power against which religion in general has no protective structure or immuno-agent.

Trison appears as the leering head of the Cross of Akht which is obsessed with the triangle. One cannot forget the sinister direction of this panorama: the Cross of Akht is also the demonogram of palaeopetrology and its operational polytics. Trison simultaneously feeds on unfathomably ancient abomination-machines, labyrinths of perversion and concrete pragmatics of ultimate insurgency and subversion welting up from the established grounds of religious regimes.

A number of seals and coins bear the forbidden emblem of three dots drvm or Trison on one side and a boar on the other side. Note that the boar is a sacrificial animal for Ahriman or Angra-Mainyu destructive spirit. Feedback spirals employ the Tnson in middle-eastern power formation. The dashed lines mark cross-numerization n. While the difference of cross-numerization Is equal to 0. The diagram of interactions between Trisons is a propelling maze or mesh known as a Feedback Spiral see Fig.

In other words, feedback spirals are communication and interaction labyrinths responsible for bringing Trisons or Trison-cells into a consistent but eccentric field of action and movement. Parsani describes feedback spirals as fields of operation for everything that emanates from the Middle East, dynamic infernos through which politics is first debased and then is terminally multiplied: 'The feedback spiral is where politics is turned into polytics.

These produced polytical inclinations or consequences are differentiated from Trisons in a spiralistic form. Feedback spirals as catastrophe engines are in the form of vortex-spires; they are capable of transforming the double-dealing dynamism of Trisons into full- fledged polytics marked by multiplicative pragmatics and multifocal operational cutting edges. In his forty page-long essay, Mesomath and Power in the Ancient Middle East, Parsani gives a disquisition about feedback spirals and how they transform Trisons into cutting-edge polytics.

Feedback spirals generate obscure power formations whose engines are charged by their internal insurgencies and whose clandestine terror cannot be dealt with by any repression or external force. In the same essay. Parsani remarks that other countries especially Greece and Rome which had already encountered such a baleful religio-political military power-drive or extreme polytics had a name for it.

They called this Gorgonite structure of combined extremums and polar anomalies of the Middle East kttk- los or kokloma, the pulverizing wheel or snake-coil later appropriated by the Greeks as kukton, the rotating debacle or cyclone. What Parsani elaborates in his essay on feedback spirals and Trison can be crudely oversimplified and reduced to the following formulation: Feedback Spirals generate mutual dealings or interactions between Trisons i.

These communications are marked by simplicity, numeric effectivity and complexity, or more accurately, catastrophic outcomes. On a feedback spiral, there are always two Trison-cells in interplay with each other. Each Trison-cell has three vertices, the joint formulated as n , the decature n and the nonature 9-n. On a feedback spiral, Trison-cells always share their joint or the vertex numerically formulated as n. At each phase of space-time progression, a directional shear is produced by the polarity of Cn and Pn between two Trison-cells.

While Cn is always equal to zero. Pn is equal to one. The opposing and at the same time cooperative Polarity between 1 and 0 results in a dynamic difference which is required for shifts in direction and the perpetuation of the spirals. The transition or displacement from one Trison-cell or one political unit to another is the cause of such a twist affecting the interactions of Trison-cells and the direction of feedback spirals. Produced by the inconclusive clash between Trison-cells, this twist in direction simultaneously programs a veering freedom and a concentric integrity in feedback spirals.

Both the diverging and the integrating forces appear as spirals. The entire structure resembles a cyclone from one end and a drill with a corkscrewing motion from the other. In feedback spirals, hysteric and compelling forces always come together see Fig. The affect space between these two forces is called a dracage zone, a zone into which the twisted activities of these forces are channeled. The dracage zone is what empowers the polytical monstrosity of feedback spirals.

Feedback spirals can horizontally migrate creep across the dracage zone. However, each Trison-cell is able to triangularly host countless Trisons in itself, either as allies or cells potentially causing irreversible internal fissions. Trisons within Trisons within Trisons — also known as children — form thousands, millions of feedback spirals within the mother-spiral.

The crypto-fractal complexity of these feedback spirals can develop anomalies capable of undermining and derailing the centrality of the mother-spiral and eventually themselves. A pregnant Trison is a population bomb of Trisons.

I have become more fanatically perfectionist in regard to my essays since we have met. I was expecting a more relaxed text but no, it is anything but relaxed. I am burning and what is left behind is not ash or smoke but tons of slimy, messy traces, oil.

Differentiation is a misorganiz- ing process not on the vertically developing axis of integrative wholeness but on virtual surfaces of zero. When the substance does not burn completely, salvation or consolidation of all possible worlds is never possible. This factor increases their duration of burning and spreading over a wide area, producing gel fireballs that last longer than liquid oil products by slowing the combustion as a result of gelling gasoline mixing with metal soap []; it burns maliciously what it touches droplet by droplet and is not consumed.

It is the only incendiary substance that thickens as it flows. NAPALM is not extinguished by water; it just flows more smoothly, facilitated by the flow of water []. Love is incomplete burning. Maiden and Dickinson, Priest and Halford, Van Halen and Roth — there as some bands and some vocalists that just go together. Regardless of other line-up changes, certain personalities and the oddly ineffable qualities they wield - ones that often go far beyond just their vocal nuances and delivery - are, in a very irrational way, more a part of the band than the band itself; sorry, but you know that no one gives two shits about Maiden with Blaze Bayley and the less said about Tim 'Ripper' Owens the better.

Scott 'Wino' Weinrich will always be the Vitus vocalist, but the man who replaced him for 's C. This timely reissue is the perfect opportunity to remind yourself of that. Of course, Vitus made one more album before their seventeen year hiatus and eventual Wino-fronted return, and in a curious twist welcomed back original vocalist Scott Reagers for 's Die Healing. Slower, filthier, more destructive — there is something at once purposeful and utterly hopeless about the slow cascade of dense, reverb-swathed riffs that make up Die Healing ; the whole thing sounds like some sort of paranoid funeral procession, not least thanks to the range of Reagers' vocals, which veer wildly between clarion-like wails, throat-shedding screams and demented howls.

The relentless sludge of 'One Mind' is the reason you like Electric Wizard so much, whilst the strangely funky, groove-heavy doom shuffle of 'Just Another Notch' and Chandler's frequent, wah-wah-slathered solos are reason enough alone to pick up this reissue, but the real reason Die Healing is such a classic is the brutally soulful stomp and foggy, vaporous ascent and decline of 'Sloth'. Vocalist snobbery be damned — Vitus rule, and frankly are the reason everybody has decided that they like doom after all.

Long may it continue. Plundering any and all disturbing items of interest they may have found in the Norwegian trash heap from which the take their name and fashioning them into distinctive yet wildly varied pieces of horrific outsider art, over their recorded career the duo, whist always retaining a sort of Melvins covering Unsane in Neurosis' basement vibe, have often veered intentionally chaotically into pretty different territory with each release — recently from the creeping, narcotic sludge of I Rove , to the caustic fury of Revenge , and the direct, largely riff-heavy assault of Solar Anus.

The punishing, feedback laden anarchy of Brutal Truth; the warped riffsmanship of Insect Warfare; the throat shedding vocals of Converge; the low-end, crusty sludge of Skitsystem; the righteous indignation and blast beat nihilism of classic Napalm Death — Atlanta's Dead In The Dirt have basically made the year's best grind album. I first listened to this while waiting to board a flight in the departure hall of Heathrow's Terminal 5, and about eleven minutes in half the album all I wanted to do was set fire to everyone in Gordon Ramsay's 'Plane Food' largely because that pun makes me want to vomit and pump gas into the Louis Vitton store.

The Blind Hole is grind as grind should be, and it's proof that it doesn't have to stick to one formula either — 'Strength Through Restraint' is more anguished squeals of feedback than riffs, 'Cop' fades out to some spoken word poetry, and comparatively sludgy closer 'Halo Crown' is like taking bad drugs in an abattoir. Well, sort of — whilst these four annoyingly youthful Floridians are clearly no stranger to the ways of the d-beat, Taedium Vitae owes more to the bristling, statically charged and rabid assault of early Converge than it does to the system-smashing blasts of full-on crust.

Visceral, blood and spit hardcore it might be, yet far from being solely filled with stomping, down-stroke battery sorry, fans of any and all abysmally awful, knuckle dragging hardcore bands who are sponsored by an energy drink, there's nothing for you here. Centuries have captured that same feeling of personal anguish and emotional inarticulacy as France's Celeste, particularly in the desperate vocals of 'Metus'.

Elsewhere the relentlessly abrasive and gut punching 'Servisse' is rather like having your ball sack scrubbed with a cactus - brief, distressing, but somehow also rather awesome… or maybe that's just me. It's been a particularly aggressive and doomy column so far, so I think it's probably about time we chilled out a little with some Horseback.

Now, I've made no secret of my love for pretty much everything the North Carolina quartet do, be it contorted noise-scapes or thunderously monotonous cascades of riffs, but I'd be the first to admit that their records tend to work best when there's some sense of unity, of concept or direct musical narrative flow — the way The Invisible Mountain broods and builds to the sixteen-minute post orgasmic chill of 'Hatecloud Dissolving Into Nothing' is what makes that record so stunning.

And yet somehow this three disk collection of singles, splits, rarities and live recordings still feels less a like mere collection and more of a journey than you'd think, displaying the myriad avenues Jenks Miller has taken his band down over the years, from the Loop-like repetitive groove of 'On The Eclipse' to the Roxy Music-gone-wrong opening of 'High Ashen Slab'.

And there are moments, too, that could almost be described as warped glitch-pop, such as 'Stolen Fire', while the serene drone of 'Transparency Murdered Again ' rests on a bizarre, almost southern rock refrain, and ensures that there are two albums in this month's column that feature the prominent use of a harmonium.

Elsewhere there's a particularly threatening groove to the live version of The Stooges 'T. Eye', and in 'Murdered' two and a half minutes of static noise and field recordings so painfully deranged it sounds like someone starving to death one tempestuous night in a locked shed. Back to the sonic bludgeon of 'proper' metal then… Now, I've admitted before that I don't cover anywhere near enough death metal in these columns - party that's because I'd rather spend an evening having melted down copies of 'Uptown Girl' poured into my ears than listen to yet another tech-death band who seem more concerned with how fast they can play their string guitars than writing proper riffs, and party it's because I actually spend my evenings drinking cheap cider and listening to crust.

Thank fuck then for Luc Lemay, who in returning to release the first new Gorguts LP in over decade has singlehandedly reinvigorated my enthusiasm for the technical extremes of the genre, largely thanks to the fact that unlike the last couple of Gorguts LPs, you don't have to equip yourself with a stack of logarithm tables before you start listening to it.

Perhaps due in part to his downtime spent in more improvisational death metal outfit Negativa, with Coloured Sands Lemay has crafted something of a masterpiece. Still harnessing that familiarly discordant barrage they were always known for, here it's tempered not by bewilderingly technical solos or time signatures that make your frontal lobe bleed but riffs — viscous, bludgeoning riffs.

Oh, and a five minute orchestral number. Doubling the amount of death metal we've seen in Columnus Metallicus not just this month but in probably the last six too, I couldn't really ignore a new Exhumed album could I? Far from Gorguts' technical extremes and concepts about the choosing of a new Dalai Lama I'm not sure how that one works really, I've always seen Mr. Lama as more of a Rush fan - he'd appreciate the intricate yet functional drum work of Neil Peart, right?

Exhumed have essentially always kept their death metal to the classic, Carcass-obsessed variety. In fairness to Matt Harvey, Necrocracy does channel an anti-corporate, anti-consumerism political concept through the gore-grinder, but in truth that matters little when faced with perhaps the most groove-splattered and hook-laden Exhumed album, well, ever. Is 'Dysmorphic' about corporate greed and the expropriation of labour for profit?

I don't know, but the solo sounds like the best thing that never made it onto Heartwork. Is 'Sickened' about the futility of parliamentary democracy in a country where only those rich enough can run for office anyway? I don't know, but at least it grinds like teeth on a kerbstone. And is 'The Rotting' about quantitative easing? Probably not. Ministry were an at times great and massively influential band, but let's face it, Ministry live shows were never really so much about what songs they played or how spectacular their performance was, they were about how fucked up Al Jourgensen was — the last time I saw them, for example, the supposedly clean and sober Jourgensen spent most of the set drinking and smoking whatever drugs he could get the front row to give him, and then fell over.

And it was fucking great. That said, that Ministry were even around to play Waken last year is a feat in itself, and whatever you think of the contradiction of a slick, professional Ministry show being any good, and however you feel about Jourgensen's relentless G. Bush bashing over three years since he left office, Ministry usually own pretty much any stage they're put on.

This rather dizzyingly polished concert film not only captures them at their most professional, but acting as it does as a sort of 'greatest hits collection', it's also a better way to remember them in the wake of the passing of guitarist Mike Scaccia than the band's particularly average last and apparently final ever studio album From Beer To Eternity which features a title and cover art so bad as to make most Scorpions albums look artistically viable.

And that's your lot for another month.

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So it is done, another year and another round up about what has really made its mark with the music we love in

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