THE BOOK OF THE PROPHET RÆGENHERE
1 The word of the Lord that came to Rægenhere the Morasthite, called the Mirror of Delusion, in the days of Lord Gilgarod, High Minister of the Unified Kingdom of Aeoul, M.M., First Multinational Magician, and the Mediatrix I, falsely called most high by those who mistake pixels for blood, which he saw concerning the Inverted Palace.
2 Hear, all ye people, hearken, O Vesperos, and all that therein is: for the high shall be made low, and the low shall surely be risen up like feathers in a cyclone. See ye people, the Mediatrix sitteth atop her crown of air and sorcery, and does commit abominations with the very illusions of her own mind.
3 And know ye people, these very illusions which were once the currency of one mind alone filled to overflow with filth, and sorcery, and lies, and wantonness, have now become the illusions of ye people of the land who once served the true and mighty Lord the Forever Darkness in Light.
4 For lo, have I seen the days of past fulfillment of the Law, and of all goodness, when men and women looked into their own mind’s inner darkness, and children looked to their parents, and parents looked to their children, for the perfection of the sun which chaseth the moon around a void.
5 These were the days of past fulfillment, when the fields were full of all good things for eating, and the rivers quenched the thirst of both body and soul, for a soul that standeth in a flowing river knoweth the truth of the Lord, that all flows but He from which all flows.
6 From Moresheth came I when the word of the Lord burst forth into mine inner darkness; and from Moresheth came I into a people filled with the lust of image and strong delusion. And the Lord said, Go, Rægenhere, and preach my hidden ways to those who worship shadows and light, for the shadow doth cover my Truth like a black cloak, and the light doth make blind for too weak eyes to see the very mountain that does bar their way.
1 Woe to them that look into a warped mirror and, in all conceit, see truth. Ye low ones, ye who toil on an inhospitable plain which rejecteth ye like a maid who shuneth all suitors, do ye turn then to the den of whores to satisfy your carnal appetites?
2 For the whorehouse runneth over with whores like a cup of blood and mercury, yet one whore sitteth high above the rest, waving her wand of holly wood, speaking her words of soothing oblivion, with the very image of Lucifer in her shining eye. She is the Whore of whores, arrayed as she is in the light of the counterfeit holy spirit, with lips and breasts and all pleasing things for the heart of man to lap up in ignorance and disgrace.
3 The Whore of whores, in a black cloak which doth not conceal her nakedness, for her nakedness is the weapon forged from her very weakness and baseness, does commit fornication in imaginary space with ye low ones repeatedly. And the whores which she doth command like an army numbering seventy times seven generals, doth mimic her foul motions in laser signals networking satellites like a spider web the world ’round.
4 The word of the Lord; Though her power be absolute, though all minds bow low to her shattered metaphysics of infinite shards, woe be unto her! For in the latter days a great sign shall I show unto ye, a great darkness will I render in pixels so fine ye shall never find the corners. For in that day will I cut off the signals which bind the mind to the world, and silence shall cover all of Vesperos.
5 And that great throne of whores which floats as a cloud of acid rain, ye call the Inverted Palace but I call atomic crater of the heart, shall fall from its high station, and no satellites’ beams shall be able to hold aloft this mass of conceptual fornication as it splintereth and raineth acid rain for ye all to witness with your own eyes, and not the eyes of she who does don your souls as dangling earrings, and all illusion shall cease from off of Vesperos for ever and ever.
1 Even now ye low ones plot not with your own minds, but with the mind of the Negative Dialectic, which is in all truth the mind of the deceiver, of he who puts on putrid rags and, with much cunning of argument and example of some favored souls among thee, causes ye all to don these rags in loftiness and puffed up chests, not seeing that these are rags, full of disease and all sicknesses.
2 And ye walk to and fro like somnambulists in the night of dreamless sleep, bumping into one another and declaring he with whom ye brush shoulders to be thy mortal enemy, and a villain, and a scoundrel. Even to have dreams would be a great blessing for ye, for ye walk in nothingness and know it not.
3 Ye feign ye will rebel against the Mediatrix in her high tower, and ye believe not these sayings which must surely come to pass? I say unto ye: the only true rebellion is that against the Most High, and it is this grave transgression of which ye stand accused this starless night.
4 I say unto the trees which shade the foxes, and the ponds which give respite to the swans, Hear the words of the Lord your God! For these men of which such great things are spoken, that they have minds like no other creature, to know good from evil, these men have heard my words and yet they profit not. Is it not therefor better to hold forth with stones and twigs?
5 O God! O God! It is a weary road I have trod from Moresheth to this thankless people who worship none but the idols of glowing screens and simulacra. It has come to pass that I grow tired and cold, and my bones doth quiver in my limbs and chest, yet ever will I serve the Lord my God.
6 And I will spend my nights locked up tightly so that none of that artificial light of idols shall permeate the cracks of my dwelling, and I will occupy myself with the writing of wondrous works, the likes of which the Lord hath dreamed in mystery. And when the night is through, and my writing hath satisfied you, O Lord, I shall blow out the candle and sleep until the day returneth again.