For Europeans and their spiritual descendants, today is the Day of the Dead. Visit a cemetery. Pray for the good deaths of your ancestors. Ask for their blessings.
The hour of your death is unknown, the fact of your death is certain. To live without the awareness of death is to live like an animal.
To live without principles is to be “unprincipled”. If you do something because “it is interesting” or “I like it” or “we are on the same side”, is to act without principles.
Men are always looking out over their fence in case something more interesting comes along. They claim to be “broadening their horizons.” Instead of living more broadly, they need to be living more deeply.
Blackbirds are attracted to the shiniest object on the ground. Men, too, flitter about, afraid of missing out on the very next phase.
Grow a mustache for Movember.
People send me links to things I have no interest in, such as what the neopagans and “radical traditionalists” think, or whether the Druids approve of Gornahoor or not. As for myself, I prefer to consult the gypsy with the gold-capped tooth.
A reader complained a few months back that I am a poor rhetorician. However, I do know enough about rhetoric to realize a story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Hence, Gornahoor will have an end. There are over 700 posts; I hope, Deo volente, to reach 1001 and then stop. Post #1001 has already been written.
A reader said I would be remembered for providing some good translations, so there will be some translations among the last posts. A rhetorician cannot disappoint his audience.
The open secret to increase Internet views is to flatter the serfs. In days of yore, only the elite could read and write, so historians don’t know what the serfs thought all day long. Now, with universal literacy, we know all too well how serfs think. Unfortunately, it is now difficult to find what the elite are thinking … not that many can even tell them apart anymore.
Satan always makes his snares alluring and appealing. However, being such a trickster, he always leaves his calling card behind: a big turd right in the middle. Men carefully walk around it to “get to the good stuff”.
Men love those enticements. The alternative is to purge one’s mind of all vain opinions, desires, fears, anxieties, and so on. Men fear to do that, since they believe there will be nothing left, they will no longer have a self or an identity. On the contrary, in that clearing the Spirit will generate a new Self, the Logos, the opposite of the satanic chaos of the mind.
That is the esoteric meaning of the expression: “When you go to the woman, do not forget the whip.” Does anyone understand this?
I am at the point where I need to concentrate on preparation for my own death, to be numbered among the perfecti. To train sea lions for the circus is not a fit occupation for a beautiful old man.
I asked my gypsy fortune teller about the future of Gornahoor. She cried.
Yea, best to jump off the cliff and build your wings on the way down (or up if you’re feeling more ambitious).
Interesting points, Aperion. I’ll leave the administrator password in the last post, hermetically concealed of course.
You may have to be my death guide since I haven’t thought it through to the extent that you have. I was hoping that some ex-girlfriend would put in a good word for me and provide some guides to Heaven, as happened to Dante. Seems unlikely, though, in my case.
I enjoyed reading your musings, but a man must acknowledge to have limits and from that comes form. Thus instead of leaving the blog to an ongoing project cast to the fates you have decided to take an action and end it upon your own will. Fair enough.
How do you plan to prepare for death, once all vanities have been overcome and the hermetic diamond body accomplished will you remain in an immortal state of suspended consciousness post-mortem?