fanoftheoccult

[fanoftheoccult]

For a second, I thought it said "Unite against Pacifism" and turns out I'm down with both.

https://www.no-gods-no-masters.com

[fanoftheoccult]

Cutting someones drugs with baby formula is how you get a crackhead at your door at 3 am freaking the fuck out. Selling drugs is still a business, morals aside, and selling bad product very likely will result in in a violent end for the dealer.

But its easier to make underpaid masses starve if you say someone somewhere might put it in drugs.

[fanoftheoccult]

“Our thirst for blood satiates us, soothes our fears. Seek the old blood, but beware the frailty of men. Their wills are weak, minds young. The foul beasts will dangle nectar and lure the meek into the depths. Remain wary of the frailty of men. Their wills are weak, minds young. Were it not for fear, death would go unlamented. Seek the old blood. Let us pray, let us wish to partake in communion. Let us partake in communion and feast upon the old blood.”

[fanoftheoccult]

Folk talking about voting, like the electoral college won't just ignore the votes as they have done time and time again and just make whoever they wish the most popular puppet.

I get it, though. It's sobering to think we don't have real power using their system...but it was indeed how it was designed.

You know... I can empathize with Centrists, particularly the anti-voting crowd. I get it. You don't want to compromise on your ethics to bring the lesser of two evils into power. I get it. You don't want to compromise with the real world because the real world is utter crap. I get it. You want to preach and prattle on about how the Left is "just as bad" while not making waves over what fresh hell the Right wrought upon us on a daily basis. I. Get. It. (cont.)

(cont.) But like it or not, the Right has been actively worse than the Left ever will be. Like it or not, voting out the Republicans must be priority number one. Like it or not, you’re not doing the world any good by playing contrarian. It’s easy to believe in something that comforts you like a post decrying the Left so you can be “justified” in not voting for them.

Well… I’m voting blue. I’m “compromising” my ethics if it means that I may not have to do so again in the future. I’m casting my vote even if “it won’t make a difference.” I’m voting because just this once in the year of our lord 2020, I want to seize any chance of the world getting better. I want to walk up one November morning and find #TrumpDumped trending on Twitter. I want to smile like the Ninth Doctor and proclaim with a goddamn grin on my face, “Just this once, Rose, EVERYBODY LIVES!”

I completely agree with everything you said, anon. I can sympathize with third-party and non-voters because I was one in 2016. Admittedly I voted Libertarian just to get a third party vote out there (and tbh I was a lot less liberal 4 years ago), but looking back on it I really wish I had voted for Hillary. Not because I like her now, but because I should have been smart and aware enough to see how important it was make sure Trump didn’t get into office.

Republican politicians have shown time and time again that they don’t give a shit about this country or the people who live in it, as shown with their track records with voting on issues about the environment, LGBTQ+ people, workers’ rights, regulations for corporations, etc. They have shown how spineless they are with their kowtowing to Trump even though they fucking hated him before he got elected. They have shown their willingness to embrace corruption. No, the Democrats aren’t anywhere close to perfect and have their fair share of corruption too, but at least they’re not actively trying to strip rights away from LGBTQ+ people and immigrants. 

The reason why the Right has been able to get so much shit done is because they’re willing to compromise their ethics and overlook idealogical differences if it means getting what they want. Like, white supremacists will work with Evangelicals and young Alt-Righters will work with old, out-of-touch Republicans. Meanwhile the Left is obsessed with purity tests and cannibalizing itself because some leftists have convinced themselves that a leftist who isn’t 100% ideologically perfect is worse than a literal fascist. I have seen this happen so many times and I’m so tired of it. We are our own worst enemy. 

I’m begging everyone who reads this to vote blue down the ballot this November so we can maybe try to get our country back on track. 

[fanoftheoccult]

I don't know how that goon turned this into a political statement, but there is simply no real way to teach yourself martial arts.

Now don't get me wrong, you can learn a lot from simply watching YouTube videos (Master Wong is a good channel) and practicing on a bag, however, if you are practicing in error and don't realize such, you will solidify the error into your routine. This will cause your art to fail you when you need it the most.

HOWEVER that is not to say you are without hope on your own. Get familair with the basics of your chosen art. Really learn how your body is supposed to line up and practice staying in stance. Then after that is not a problem, try moving while staying in stance. Then incorporate proper jabs and crosses with your movement. This will cause you to be good and ready for when a training facility near you has hopefully one day reopened.

And a word in for the guy talking about his daddy training him, don't try to discourage others from bettering themselves. It says a lot about your own weakness and is a detestable mannerism and I promise you are not as badass in hand-to-hand as you believe.

You might or might not have the answer to this but - do you know of any good "teach yourself" self defense or martial arts classes? I know you're really supposed to go to an in person class but everything's closed bc of covid.

I wish I knew!!! I think to get a really good martial arts education you need other people there. There’s nothing that can emulate a real fight besides having a real fighter. I looked up some stuff online and local gyms and dojos are doing online workouts, but those seem to me to be ‘self-defense inspired workouts’ and won’t help with anything but muscle memory. I’m thinking of buying one of those hanging punching bags for building strength, stamina, and muscle memory, but it’s not gonna be the same.

Train and fight! Always seek comradeliness!

[fanoftheoccult]

Not movement related? Well, I'm back into daily Mauy Thai, but it's so I can kick a Fed in the head before I disappear into one of their vans or get shot.

I'm also trying to pump a short story out a day and hope to publish an anthology of them. One day.

Burnout is real shit and socialism isn’t a personality trait.

What are some things that you all are doing that aren’t directly movement-related?  I’m going to read the Silmarillion and then sharpen all the knives in the kitchen.

[fanoftheoccult]

We participated in the burnings, then when we heard rumor our street would be target (which is only residential), we all knew if it was, it would be the police. We formed a neighborhood militia and guarding the homes of our community through the night, nothing happened. Business's are burning, not homes.

protests are legal. burning down buildings are not. if someone was protesting against you and burned down your house would you not repercussions to happen?

I literally stated in that same post that I’m an anarchist what in the hell do you think you have to gain by appealing to legality

[fanoftheoccult]

(Alice)

The following is written without hidden or blatant moral

Witnessed through the eyes of a young girl

After her world began to writhe and swirl.

Her given name was, ironically, Alice

because the fate's grand malice

she would trip as Carroll's Alice,

but not from a child's imaginative mind,

instead, a more synthetic kind.

Never before had her experiences gone bad

(for this wasn't the first trip she had,

hell, most of the time she was quite glad)

She ingested her addle vapor

to extend her mind just a bit further

(Another one of society's forsakers)

and when her reality would begin to shatter

her life will come to an end in about an hour.

(Birth)

It's felt hours since she was doubled over, puking

immeasurable when her toilet jumped and gulped her down.

Days before she fell hard to the ground

weeks since Alice took that last fix

minutes before she took that first hit.

Space and time began to twist and blend,

which for Alice, a beginning with immediate end.

She was given all the time in the world,

yet it is quickly running out.

Rising from the ground, she gave a shout

which was met with the same silence about.

We shall continue to read onward looking

towards Alice, who's deaf to our laughs and jibs

Her tragic comedy is near it's close,

but ya know, it's the path she chose.

Maybe not the path she meant to pick,

but she was gullible enough to trust a needle's prick.

(Others)

The path Alice followed was already beaten,

packed by others also artificially defeated.

Many still walked before her.

Pioneers treading along in their deathly trance,

pushing forward like a medieval lance.

Adults she knew when she was younger,

Queens and kings who were no more than a court jester.

The younger will follow her naive blunder,

what's a little sister, even a little brother?

Her friends, her loves, or even her neighbors?

Is this their reward for wishing to be free,

wishing for a world that can't ever be?

To follow along, one and all, in this doomed procession,

to wish for the unholy event of drugs possession?

You fool, is life truly so bad

to throw away what little you had?

This is their reward for the others,

even for Alice.

(Dead?)

Though Alice is taking vacancy in the wasteland,

her shell left behind still smiles and draws breath.

Even vacant, it still has the need to indulge,

just an incessant need to feed on dopamine.

Her mind is free, but her body has a demand

for the alteration of anything from alcohol to meth.

Some may know, some may even write of her blight.

Can we truly understand, from the outside, echoing in

Faded as the Alice's picture on her parents shelf.

If we did get through, what true horror would that divulge?

She may live dead, but her mind remains sluggishly animate.

Glimmering is the girl who couldn't accept

hardship is simply life's nonnegotiable debt.

Elsewhere, may she be happy, despite her mistakes,

oblivious that her left behind body has become a skin for a fiend,

and as spectators we lover her and the efforts she makes,

for in her mind, she was attempting to better the life she chose to take.

Tumbling into the abyss of human nature,

the life was her own, and no other,

She may never understand that we could never hate her.

(Fault)

Who are we to blame for the debauchery

that has brought our heroine Alice such misery?

She was just one of hidden millions,

crawling along the human filth like cockroaches

replacing us with monsters so ferocious

that can be considered biblical proportion.

Undeniably, a demon of plague sweeps over our safe beds,

but it's not Beelzebub who is fucking with our heads.

Alice was one of millions who hide from themselves,

who rot inside living and painful cells,

cower in fear deep within personal hells.

Who is to blame when the affliction is man-made?

When our own hands mix chemicals and provides the mental extortion.

Destructive with our own emancipated abortion.

Why blame when we decided it's easier to deny.

We'll leave the filth and let it build,

allowing for infestation and complaining only when billed.

Damn our comfort, our acceptance, our beliefs

when we allow sickness to fester and devour the weak.

[fanoftheoccult]

When I was young, living on the back roads of southern Indiana, the woods behind my father's house was the perfect escape from the harsh reality of living with the man. My childish imagination would provide endless amounts of entertainment while I pretended to be a knight, gladiator, or even pirate. My weapon of choice was always whatever stick sturdy enough to swing around and smack tree trunks with a satisfactory thud. My father and his girlfriend never cared how long I was out adventuring, which never bothered me in the least. Many a long day was spent running about the trees, fighting an invisible, yet irrevocably vile villian until hunger would force me back home and to retire for the evening, the fight picking back up the next day.

This tradition continued until I felt as f I knew every branch and trail in the expansive woods. I felt invincible in my playing, and never felt fear when I would inevitably kick up a wild animal or two with my thrashing about. With that in mind, the creature I would encounter changed that and instilled a fear of the wild that persists even now and while my hands shake at the rememberence of the events, I will attempt to tell you the story of when I met the entity known as the Queen of Green.

It was the summer of 2006, school had been closed for break and the July heat was mixing with the humid air, making an almost choking thickness to the air. However, this was nothing new and it did not prevent me from carrying on as I did. I was a few hours into playing, a few hours from my house, the closest place of relative safety, when I began to smell an odor all too familiar to one so versed in woodland exploration. The pungent, almost sour odor of decay. Usually, I would shy away at the first sniff of such things, for hunters and rumors of wilder animals were common in this woods and it would have been more unusual to smell such an stench. Today, though, the odor was particularly vibrant.

I followed the smell to an old building deeper into the woods. Strange I had not seen such a building before as scavenging oddities from forgotten places was always an exciting hobby of mine but I was hesitant to enter as the smell grew stronger and stronger still with every step, as if a giant collection of carcasses were piled just beyond the door, broken and half fallen in from the years of disrepair and natural reclamation of the forest.

Past the door, the building shared many similarities to the church down the street from where I lived, complete with pews and podium. The pews were pushed to the sides of the building, as if to make room for a vast being invisible to my eyes. Even though sunlight shined through cracks in the roof, I still could not make out anything further in.

Walking past the pews and toward the podium, I had a sense that something was watching me, like I was not as alone as I had thought. On approach of the center of the room in from of the podium, I could make out strange symbols and glyphs were carved into the wood of the podium and, to my surprise, I realized the podium itself was of one solid piece of wood, a stump from a tree that long ago grew through the floor of the building and once stood mighty and regal over the people who must have took communion here. Finally, I had reach my destination and went to place my hand on the podium when I heard it.

A gutteral and choking sound, like the sound of someone with a cut throat in movies would make, suddenly caught my attention and I turned to see that there was a deer of an unusual size laying on the floor against one of the walls. Blood was pooled around the great beast as it struggled to hold on to whatever life it had left. Startled, I looked around franticly to search for whatever predator could have done this. After seeing nothing else but the deer, I drew closer. Now, as a somewhat experienced woodsman, I understood that a dying animal can be most dangerous in it's desperation, but I felt nothing but a calm as I approached.

The deer, whom at this point I could tell was a large doe, had stopped trying to stand and played on the floor before me, life spilling out from a wound on her belly. It was then when I saw the true horror of the creature. Rot had set in, and it must have done so a long time ago. Most of the muscle and flesh have been eaten away by the millions of writhing maggots and flies that choked the air near her and the doe's eyes had no glimmer of life, and yet here it was, against all odds. Alive. I had turned to run from the building, away from just whatever the fuck was going on, and thinking back, I should have. However, it was then when I heard it's voice.

"Why are you frightened, fawn?", the deer asked me in a voice so surreal and beautiful that I nearly forgotten the gory mess that was it's body.

"Because I don't think you should still be moving", I quickly stammered. In my childish innocence, I wanted to believe that honesty will see me safely through this.

The doe snorted through what was left of its nose, blowing a yellow bile out as it did so and replied with a regal undertone of authority, "What you see is the work of evil men who used to worship me. Their spirits still haunt this place and they keep me their captive. You have answered my call, you have come to help me"

Slowly, I backed away saying, "I'm sorry, but I never heard a call, I was just poking around, but I think I need to leave."

As I turned to rush out, the floorboards before the door, my one exit, gave a groan then exploded as many saplings rose from the ground and quickly grew together into a wall. I knew then that there was no escape outside of the doe just letting me go.

"Well, um, what was it you needed done?", I stated turning back to the doe, each word dripping with defeat as if my fate was already sealed.

The doe tried to sit up, more viscera spilling onto the floor and the monstrosity rolled over to reveal what looked like a hunting knife, carved from an antler and buried to it's hilt into the stomach of the doe.

"Human child, you but merely need to undo what your kind had done to me. Pull this object from me and I can finally return to my kingdom. I know that you hate it here and crave adventure. I can give you what you want if you but do this one task", the beast cooed with as much persuasion as it's current state allowed.

I walked over to the hurt animal, for though the doe was obviously supernatural, the sight of a beast suffering has always struck a heartstring with me. I knelt down beside the doe, it's pleading eyes filled with hope and the occasional maggot wriggling out from the corners.

Gripping the handle of the knife, I pulled as hard as I could, but the knife was stuck fast, as if something was pulling on the other side of it. Blood and pus began to seep out from around the handle as I strained against it, the smell of death worsening to the point where it made my eyes water.

"You've almost done it, fawn, and be quick about it, I can hear them coming!", said the panicked animal.

As if on cue, I began to hear footsteps all around us outside the building along with what sounded like a dull pounding on the sapling wall that had previously prevented my escape. The sound of the thudding was rhythmic, as whoever was making their way through that barrier had found their groove and my heart thumped just as fast as I realized where I had heard the sound before. It was an axe, and I only had moments before whatever was trying to get in was on the inside with me and the wounded wonder.

Doubling my effort, I put my foot against deer and yanked with all my might, my foot squishing into the soft and rotten belly of the beast, though it gave no complaint. Finally it seemed to be enough and the knife slid out, pulling pieces of old entrails with it. Not a moment too soon either as I heard the wall behind us begin to splinter and give way to whatever "spirits of evil men" the doe had warned about.

I don't know what I expected next. I grabbed the knife and turned to face the intruder when I came face to face with my father. He looked different than before and had a look of concern mixed with worry that only a father looking for their child could muster. Then the look changed to one of terror. As long as I live I will never forget that drastic change because his face was the last human face I ever saw. In a blink of an eye, it was like I was pulled from that world, away from the carcass that had held the Queen, as I have come to know her.

I awoke in a forest unlike any I had meandered through before, trees growing so high that the sun didn't make it to the ground, with leaves and bark that was unlike anything on Earth. Spongy to the feel and would bleed if peeled back, as if the trees were made of hardened flesh. I dread to think too much about it. The queen came eventually, free of her former shell. She thanked me for helping her and gave me a stick just like what I used to play with, then bade me farewell and left me here.

Months must have gone by though it seems the seasons and weather never change here. Nights are cold and quiet while the days are hot but just as quiet. It's as if there is nothing else here. When I first arrived, I chose a direction to walk but I am unsure if I am even going the same direction still. While the trees provided all the shelter I could need, food and water was another matter all together. The bark of the trees are edible enough, though tasteless and the "sap" as I called it was nourishing. Once you got past the copper flavor. I think I might be here forever, walking through this endless forest until I simply don't anymore, with but one constant thought spurring action in me.

I want to go home.