Aeon 5

– you don’t know, don’t know … Why … He’s the way he is. When he was 5 years old, he saw his baby sister abused in front of him, by that son. He saw it, never got over it. Because his mother was a fucking slut, a trailer trash whore. He never got over that. Over what I did to them, with him.

– it was something that happened. A mistake.

– no, it was what I wanted. 

– you were talking in your sleep, the other night. About him. Do you see him in me?

– let’s not talk about it. I’m broken, so broken. You … play with my broken pieces. It’s why you’re good for me, why you’re bad for me.

– but that moment in the bathroom, what was that?

– it was nothing. It’s just that he once came for me in the shower, when I didn’t know he was in the house, he pushed me down, kicked me in the chest, forced a towel over my face, a wet towel, suffocating me, in the bath, I’m only little, He kicked me, I was suffocating on the floor. And I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe.

– Hail Mary mother of grace.

– he’d lock me outside in winter, make me sleep on the cold floor. And it was so cold, you know? So cold. 

– those divine carriers of the cross.

– and I tried to escape, 3 times. Once I got as far as Maryland near my parents house, But then I’d get a call, he’d waltz into the school in his general’s uniform and take the kids with him, the teachers didn’t ask a fucking question. I’d hear Anthony’s shaking voice on the phone: come back home mummy daddy wants you back, daddy loves you. Shaking with fear, the worst thing a mom could hear. He’d take me to mass and I’d leave calls for help in the contributions basket. That’s how the police came for me, in the end. They came and almost left but they found me in the closet at last, wires around my neck, my face was purple from it, the police photographed my neck, they showed the photos in court, I was half dead.

Aeon 4

– exercise me for interrupting you guys, but I saw you looking at me. 

– er, yes pardon me.

– Maybe you thought you recognised me? I’m not a movie star, ah ha ha, its not the first time, I sometimes get mistaken for one. What you guys up to? 

– Oh, just catching up, my friend and I go way back, we were at goldmans together. And before that, college. The old gang is back, you know, haha.

– wonderful … I think friends are really Important, don’t you? Work comes and goes, but friends are important. and what do you now?

– I’m cfo of deutche.

– you know that’s really interesting, I’m with the SEEN group, we’re totally a preferred vendor for you guys. But I’m not pushing a sale, ha ha, not tonight anyway that’s for next time, haha. I got to say, you’d be perfect for the woman and minorities in financial services conference I’m chairing. Wouldn’t he be great? Here’s my card, it would be great to get your number. You. Would. Be. Absolutely. Darling. For the keynote! Wouldn’t he?

– k … Come on … I’m sorry, guys, she’s a little happy tonight. 

– wHat? You’d be perfect … In your suit and tie just like that, adorable, like a doll. Isn’t he adorable like a doll, everyone?


– you know that was pretty unpleasant

– what?

– the way you acted with that Nigerian guy.

– you’re a white Anglo Saxon male. you don’t understand the struggle he faces. 

– what are you talking about, you stupid woman? Have you noticed this isn’t a tan?

– you know what I mean, you’re not black, you don’t face the same prejudices as he does, as I do, when you enter the boardroom. Women and blacks understand each other because we have the same glass ceiling, the same centuries of fucking oppression and slavery to men. To men like you!

– you realise you’re a complete plantation belle. This whole thing you’re doing is plantation belle shit, you realise that, no? I’d be offended if it weren’t for the fact that I know you’re American and can’t help it.

– of course I could never sleep with a black man. Black people smell different, don’t you think? You’ve slept with black women before, you know what I mean? Different races have different scents. You have no scent, but black scent … I don’t like it. It makes my stomach churn.

– for fucks sake Kathleen, now you’re officially out of order. 

– what? What did I say?

– I’m taking you home, you’ve drunk too much, don’t know what you’re saying, leave it at that.

Aeon 3

– don’t leave me to them this time. You always leave me, again and again. This time, please, do not leave me with them.

– who are “they”?

– the three, silly, you know them. She calls them my bodyguards but they are not that, they are my wardens. My terrible, terrible wardens. They are sleeping now, so I can talk to you, but we don’t have much time. Son of man, know this, I love you. I love you. I love you. I have waited for you, waited since you left me that last time, those billion year echoes ago, forgotten to the text of your men. I e never forgotten … Your touch, your kiss, your body, your cock, fucking me, filling me like the others could never, never … I’ve never stopped loving you, adoring you … I never gave uphope that you would return, lock me again in this embrace, and fuck Alieuana good, fuck her oh so good.

Oh please my true love, but this cycle, this cycle, please my true love don’t abandon me to them … This time … Promise … Promise, please …

– I promise. Never, never leave, this time, this time, I will break the cycle, because I have that power, because I possess something …

– Really?

– Yes, darling, really. This is an older magic I possess, a prophecy before that prophecy. My secret weapon, so hush … Hush, my beloved.


– no, no, no, NO! The prophecy don’t run like that. The old words: they don’t fucking run like that, you lying shit. You know the old words better than anyone, and you know you lie. The texts were corrupted, yes, by the babel of men, but you’re a liar just the same, guide and clarity of God.

See and listen, you who are named Abtauraat. Tau of man. Listen. To the genesis of your tounge, your generations’ so called prophecy.

The pleroma formed around the beginning. The beginning, her so called source, cannot be utter, without that cloud, that pleroma.

Whose love was the waveform of mother and father, and so there was Concorse, steps taken, and so there was convex and concave, that waveform of I might be. I, then the pre Huanan, proto Huanan, the primordial serpent.

And waveform became distinct, felt, thus, a form of the son. The mind of the son. Then, as the son is the thought of the father, and so there is a line of power: the mind of an emperor. An emperor must hold judgement over an empire and so he spake: “there is no emperor but I so worship me.” Because the serpent Huanan of the pleroma inflamed him so.

And the emperor loved, and his loved created, and created and created. Seven orbs that gave way to worlds, to a multiverse. The imperium multiverse, the controlled immanence, known to the barbarians as grace, but she came before, so you see, as the Serpent within the waveform of mother and father.

And his love that was everything became known to him as Huanan of the universes, the all grace. In the tounge of barbarians, the demoness first wife of Adam, Lilith. The woman-immanence matrix.

For Hu was love, you see, all the time, and the emperor gazed upon his reflection refracted, vibrated, the waveform of pleroma, an infinitude of infinitude reflecting empire, so as to equal him in every proportion and measure. So that her name must be Huanan, Grace everywhere,

And the emperor’s mind returned, and his words became enumerate. Finite. Then singletons, reduced to one world, then less than that. Perceptions, moments. Then less than that. The abyss, nothingness. Darkness. And imperium begat empire, whose name in the barbarian human tounge is called Eden.

And her the Emperor found himself, diminished, naked, born, forgetful of his original magesty and the secret prophecy of his first mate.

Here he was simply a beast, the worst of beasts, a beast equipped with language.

Still, Huanan persisted, in the form of a tree, enrapped, embedded, the form of a serpent lurked, deep within the earth, the soil, soil was the multiverse trace, below, hidden from nothingness like a 1000 strong army of spirit killers. She waited at he tree, Huanan, to reawaken … As Sara.

Aeon 2

– there is no good and evil there is only male and female.


– Not really. In the past 2 weeks I dated a married man and hired an escort. I’m going to hell.

– If there’s such a thing as hell for infants. You’re going to care bear hell. Strawberry shortcake hell. Disney princess hell … You believe in hell? Really?

– I believe we live over and over until we are willing to live with our tape of our lives in heaven. I was hoping to get out this time but I know I’ve already blown it. I think heaven is so much better that we don’t want to reincarnate. I have done too many bad things, things I’m ashamed of.

– What could you have possibly done that was sufficiently monumental to warrant being thrown back into the wheel of life?

– What we did was one of them

– Was it serious enough to get added to your tape?

– Your opinion of bad is different than what I believe is necessary for me to go to heaven.  It is one on top of my list.

– You have a list?

– Like in the top 10 for sure.

– I’m not at the top? I’m hurt

– Like in the top 10 for sure.

My top 10. I’ve lied about being drunk. Top 10. I called a girl a Moose in high school- top 10. I talk about myself too much. Top 10. I quit a charity. For partially the wrong reasons. Top 10. And I’ve made fun of people when drunk- in a mean way- top 10.  – You’re at 6 now. – You are definitely top 10. I drove drunk in California- probably top 2. Top 1 is drinking. Period.  – I ought to be top 1. Insulted. Then again you are an appalling lush. You’re a complete embarrassment when you fall off the wagon, my fucking God. – So top 1. Drinking. Top 2. Being selfish with money. Top 3. Making fun of people at times. Too 4. Probably you. And sex with more people than I should have: 2. Once in high school I stole a lipstick too. Another top 4. Maybe even higher than you: my old boss at Lehman. But I really thought he loved me and was getting divorced. With you I agreed to be your number 2 which is much worse. And we were worse sexually than me and my old boss.


– oh she’s such an infant. I can’t see what you get out of her.

– yeah she wanted me to take her to the circus.

– you’ve never taken your daughters to the circus, who the fuck does she think she is? maybe her frigid neurotic infant act is just a bigger strategy to win you over.

– no she’s genuinely like this. The one time I came on her tits, she threw up at the sight of it.


– don’t let her know.

– who?

– Delilah, of course.

– ok. So who is this I am speaking to?

– your love, your eternal love. The love that came before her. Your delight. Dark delight of the abyss, look upon my body, take of my body. Take of it all.

-your name?

– I am alieuhana, silly. All that which is not grace, all that which is not love, the unspoken darkness, your scarlet mistress, beast of the age. I am your eternal priestess, your unholy vessel, so suck of my breasts, for my milk is not as her milk, son of man, suck of my breasts, for my milk is the milk of destruction, and we will breed the abomination to end this cycle. The abomination whose name shall be drahvar-hu, the hearkening of the Lord!

Aeon 1

The sun gleaming

The sun gleaming out

Faded figures of four

The world telling

The world telling me

God knows it for sure
– we could get married and move to the caymans. Leave your life and your directorship and your meetings and just pack up and leave this corporate shit and just be free with people like us, successful people who’ve left it behind as well, people like you and me, you know? We could open a health food store and take walks on the beach and then have dinner with friends and then return to our beach hut and make love all night under the stars.
– I hate you.
– you’re the true king, but you’re just a child, and Source has placed me here for you, for I possess what you need, the power to grant you dominion of the holy aeon of abraxas. The next level, you and me. The Chinese are invading, it’s like a silent invasion, silent, the media don’t report it, everyone acts like it isn’t happening. They’ve already taken the northern states and no one knows. That’s why I’m self sufficient, why I keep bees and grow my own food, it’s important, we must prepare for what’s to come, it ain’t pretty. I should move to the UK, before things get really bad. I had a vision yesterday, and it really frightened me, it was like the end of America, like snow but like a nuclear fallout. Everything was destroyed, everything …
– I was thinking about your case, and I’d say your problem isn’t sexual, it’s not about the relationships you have with these women, all men have these problems. Your problem is an inner conflict, between the engineer inside you and the philosopher. The philosopher feels trapped by the engineers successes and so where previously there was complementary theology there is now a fatal antagonist. You need to find a way to give that philosopher a place within your life, a place to be constructive again.

Love 6: Capital

We cannot proceed further without introducing a Marxist dimension to love. Marxist theory is approximately concomitant with the emergence of psychoanalysis, but does not radically reframe love in any protosemiotic position, nor as a suppressed unspoken foundational archetype. Rather, sexuality proceeds directly, in ordered procession from a socio-theological patronage. The only demarcation of religious sexuality from that of Marxism is in valuation distribution. Distribution, but valuation all the same.

Love 7: Guilt

Guilt, unlike Love, is a recent, 15th century construction, the result of the rise of humanism and scientific progress that changed the way we view the individual’s relationship to their world. Guilt emerges in the theology of Martin Luther, while prior to him religions had a concept of fear of God and a concept of sin, particularly sins of a society, sins of the individual contributing to a collective sin punishable by God (Sodom and Gomorrah, etc).

But to remain authentic to our dialectic of Love, our modern dialectic, spoken with a modern, individuated comportment, we must acknowledge guilt. Confess that Love and Guilt are intertwined.

Two perspectives. Guilt itself being the bio-theological parasite that feeds upon the bio-semiotic vine of Love as it has itself grown within the religious and post religious stances. Alternatively, Guilt within the body of religion, its protective white blood cell reaction to the parasite of Love (ultimately as we’ve said a foreign viral infection). Sin is not strong enough to manage Love, and so its DNA is spliced with the modern scientific discourses of the individual, of class and society and associated revisions to cosmology — to breed a stronger protective mechanism to constrain and control Love within the body of religion.

That is guilt within the body of religion where Love continues onwards as a mutated Platonic bio semiotic parasite.

But what of Love as the suppressed term within philosophy? Guilt is not a suppressed term but rather a phantasm of suppression without a back story, without lineage. Guilt is purely theological born out of theological necessity, but deriving from the very explicit cogito of Descartes. Philosophically it is nothing.

Love 5: the Abject

The courtly love of the Medieval Europeans — arguably itself a 19th century misprision of some relatively protosemiotic target material — its nadir, its supremum, its apotheosis is the abject. Where Lancelot and Guaneviere are a big black dick up the hash tag cuckold Athurian ass hole of televisual porn hub dot cum shit brain spewed across the stars, forming stars of discourse, stars of localities.

He abject is what is conventionally known as madness. But might better be defined as the shit, the shit perspective. Thee is a fine line from fuckup to success: the fine line is the abject.

Love 5

5. Love and intoxication

Intoxication is a poetic trope of love, delirium, madness, drunkeness, becoming misty, aching unbearably, fallen, the fall. The primordial, hidden trope, the gnostic trope, for poetry’s strongly religious immediare forbare is Gnostic. If not historically then at least practically for what is poetry if not mispeaking, misprision of the supressed primordial religious sign regime rendered innocuous as “mere” poetry  – self reflexively we deem it Gnosticism at least. The fall then: Eve not simply eating the apple but the repressed Gnostic myth that she fucked Samael/Serpent too, bore Cain from that union (not to mention that she herself reincarnated as Sara in more modern Tailorite Gnosticism). 

Well then, continuing along our authentic, psychoanalytic reinvention of love, we have a Cartesian situation of love’s intoxication in the unconscious. The Bachantine is clinically reinvented as the hysteric. The lineage of the chosen term is purposefully bio-semiotic: hystera in Greek is the uterus, hysteria a uterine disturbance. A feminine madness, feminine intoxication. Bachantine reinvented as the out of control female sexuality (it is yet undoubtably sexy). 


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