New Release of the Third Edition of Son Of The Widower & Interviews With Miguel Serrano.
Available now in softcover paperback, for purchase details please email: email@example.com
Blurb from the back cover:
“In this profound philosophical discourse, Miguel Serrano investigates and elucidates the past, present and future of the Aryan West; its intrigues, imaginations and dark myths, bringing in to question its very foundations, penetrating the shadowy illusions that have previously been taken for solid truths and infallible dogma and boldly reassessing the “2000 year” chronological basis that has provided the framework for all human endeavour and the spiritual world of man. The historical basis with its epistemologically established system comes crashing down, the pillars of the “Temple Construct” crumble and the previously, blindly accepted, religious, philosophical and scientific dogmas are shattered. In this New Reformation, a New Cosmogony is announced and formed… Something even able to illuminate the darkest…
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Obliteration Ritual – by leuchovius’ ghost
All existence here on this place is indeed a diabolical mockery:
A wedding of the impure and the degraded blood to
vile sheaths of weak and wicked flesh,
de-spirited junk enclosed in walking, crypt-like cavities.
These, who are dazzled and dazed to the putrid, purple sounds
of their own voices, volumes and volumes of vacant lies,
the fate of every one of these abominations:
We shall sink them one and all back into the cold, hard ground.
They, who are condemned by their own sick and venal commingling,
who are created only for the final and holy obliteration ritual.
Silence awaits them as a tomb with open arms,
Angels sing in the glorious heavens to purify this misbegotten, earthen ring.
For very far away, there is a hatred buried deep below the sparkling snow,
ancient relics forgotten in the infinite tundra, ancestral fields.
Yes, we disciples of the blue blood lay in wait,
Frozen beneath the years and sheets of arctic ice with silver blades aglow.
Sieg Heil !
Emil Cioran from The Monopoly of Suffering :
Why don’t I commit suicide? Because I am as sick of death as I am of life. I should be cast into a flaming cauldron! Why am I on this earth? I feel the need to cry out, to utter a savage scream that will set the world atremble with dread. I am like a lightning bolt ready to set the world ablaze and swallow it all in the flames of my nothingness. I am the most monstrous being in history, the beast of the apocalypse full of fire and darkness, of aspirations and despair. I am the beast with a contorted grin, contracting down to illusion and dilating toward infinity, both growing and dying, delightfully suspended between hope for nothing and despair of everything, brought up among perfumes and poisons, consumed with love and hatred, killed by lights and shadows. My symbol is the death of light and the flame of death. Sparks die in me only to be reborn as thunder and lightning. Darkness itself glows in me.