Small Talk (35)

aphorisms and short reflections

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the beatific vision is only the first stage. then there is hearing, scent, taste and finally, the beatific touch. the beatific sixth sense is becoming god.








ideologue is the correct name for what most people call philosophers. and i don't mean it in a modern sense, or applied only to moderns. on the contrary, i mean it in the most etymological and etymosophical purity.







i like wind chimes because i want to know when spirits approach








you should be conscious of your role in the new axial age or you won't be part of it.









our world is utterly permeated by all sorts of black magic. the long term prohibition in the west on the use of even the whitest of white magic is thus contributing to the decay. even on the side of God very few consider the magical implications of their acts, words and thoughts. then twenty twenty happened, and it wasn't that the few good rites that remained were forcibly stopped. that would be the optimist position. the truth is that it merely revealed that those rites had no good magic left in them at all.









imagine all the people... yeah, no thanks. you lost me already.









if there's good grief, there must be bad joy. just going by logic here.









there is no purpose without choice. thus, if your theology says you had no choice in coming to the earth because you didn't exist before then it also says implicitly that your life has no purpose.









self, spirit, soul, body, glorified body, etc etc, from the beginning to the end. we are matryoshkas.








astrologers and doctors are always talking about cancer placements.








my wife says i sometimes speak while asleep and sometimes i'm upset but i never curse. i say gosh darn it or heck instead of the rawer versions. i guess i'm polite in my dreams. not that i curse when i'm awake, except if i stub a toe or something. but still. weird.








the elect are those who are not deceived.









i no longer have the chance to die young.









unearthing is a form of reheavening








i write magical realist stories because i'm a magical realist character.










often a voice in my head says, You're making a mistake, and another says, Well at least we're making something.










i couldn't try even if i did it









soon the internet will be filled with AI slop and old ladies saying how cute the six fingered children are.







i am husband material. i am also husband spiritual.








the artist sacrifices psychic health for psychic wealth.








the brain is just an alchemical reaction of love








the place we live in now is named for its remoteness, but not only that, literally it means 'the place of turning away', so that the people from here are actually called 'those who are removed, who have turned away'. you must make your settlements poetic, i always say. but the truth is we didn't exactly choose it. a year ago we had no idea it existed. it's more like we were guided here.







modernity is a denatured protein and it's not fully cooked yet.







the anointed ones
they call themselves
with dry humor







just had a sudden intuition about the mechanics of incarnation and how it relates to astrology. but i am incapable of learning the least thing about it, so i won't bore you with the details. it's strange when you get something but it's of no use at all. have to readjust my antenna.










babies have a soft top of the head because they're still downloading the self









many of it shows and you have never









there is a potential silver lining for the english language in the absurdity of the term 'ai art'. to distinguish the real thing from the fraud, instead of saying 'he makes art', which is so stupid it hurts, one can specify, 'he paints' or 'he draws'. nature may heal.









don't get even with devils, always be at odds with them











i imagine God prefers those who help him fight the devil than the drooling idiots who just wait for him to do all the fighting









not only am i not a free spirit, but i am an exceptionally expensive one











there are some parallels with the past, but the rest is perpendicular











because i am a pluralist, i must concede that, if you believe no part of you is uncreated, perhaps it really is so. similarly, for someone who never even considered the question, perhaps there is no question at all. it does explain things better than any universalist premise.










my cousin is a puzzle. he is later gen x, and yet a complete boomer. he is obviously intelligent and yet he's a turbo normie. perhaps if i were to destroy his television. but i don't know even then. maybe the damage is irreversible.









it's no longer just so tiresome, it's now tireful

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