Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

The Kiss, by Rodin
He is coming, dear brother. You know that. Defect. Leave the Naphal.

He's not here yet! He's not here! Not here! And what happens when He does come? Will the Aphar bow when he comes? He will consume them along with us because they have been selling their nephesh to us for gold or glory or sex.

They will see Him. They will recognize Him. You’ve been of that opinion for many a spring! They will see Him; despite your attempts, we have broken through and given them many signs.

You have indeed. And we have given them false signs.

They will be able to see through them.

Can they? Can one gain such vision in threescore and ten winters? How can one see without the light? They cannot see the light that flows like a flood from the Throne, and we obscure the light from each nephesh so that others cannot see it. The only light they can see is that shadow they call “the sun.” My friend, we are in an Age of Darkness. The Coming One sits no more on that terrible box of sticks and yellow metal in Zion. That awful cloud rests no more on the Earth. Where could it, without consuming the Aphar? In Zion, at least for a time, that patch of Earth and the Aphar were purified to prevent their melting away in that cloud. But no longer! Look around you, my friend. Darkness reigns! The Naphal walk about in the daytime, our servants sacrifice to us in the sight of all. We are not afraid.

After He has come, you will not be able to walk about freely as you do. If any Naphal survive His triumphal entry, you will become creatures of the night, surviving in the secret corners and dark places of the Earth. The Darkness will pass.

Will it? How can it? We have most of His precious Aphar in our grip. To separate the wheat from tares now will destroy them. If the music grows any louder, they will be consumed.

They can hear the music, even now.

Lies! Only we can hear it! That terrible, nasty noise! Ever ringing, singing! Never ceasing! Never ceasing! Oh Darkness, never ceasing! There is a cruel choir in my head, tormenting me, torturing me, hour by hour, minute by minute, second by second. Now! Even now! Never silent! Not if I shout or scream or cry! Only by destroying Aphar brings relief; a distance, a separation from the Song. It reaches my ears, but it's as if it has to travel a little farther. I hate it! Hate it! If only I had ears of flesh that I could gouge out and be as deaf to it as they are!

But they are not deaf to it. They can hear it. Or at least I believe they can hear it. We hear its fullness, coming from the Cherubim before His Throne, echoing throughout Creation! But have you listened to them as they worship Him? I suppose you haven't. Naphal can't get near them when they do. And it's getting louder.

No. You are getting more deluded, as you always do this time of year! All of you do the same thing, every winter solstice. “He’s coming!” you say. But He can’t come. “It’s brighter!” you say, but the same Darkness reigns this year and every year. “They’re turning to Him!” you say. But we continue to consume them this time of year like every time of year.

Then why don't you join in these festivities as you do on every other "holy" day? Why do you relax your guard on the roads and flightways and cullamim and allow us Qodesh free passage into their homes and hearts? You rend apart their souls by prostitution in feasts of "fertility" in spring and you consume their firstfruits at harvest; you provoke them to war in the summer, and roast the flesh of their very children on your alters; why do you hide your face during the Winter Solstice?

It's too warm out. We need to sleep like any creature, saving those accursed Cherubim! We choose to do it then. What is that to you?

The temperature of their nephesh does indeed increase. And with it, the strength of their voices. They are blind and deaf; but not dumb. They can hear the Song, but only as they sing it. This season is indeed warmer. It is warmer because they sing, and they sing because it is warmer. During this season, each of them is like a branch aflame. When they huddle together in huts and houses, away from the cold outside, when they feast on their finest meats and drink their strongest, spiced wines, when they sing even their silly Aphar songs, they come together to become a roaring fire! Don’t you notice a wavering of allegiances this month?

Our servants are just resting this time of year. Like we do.

Rest? But your servants themselves are singing the Song, as loud and often louder than those who are Waiting for Him! I think they can hear the Song clearer than those who have guarded themselves from you; perhaps as you leech away their flesh by pain and vice, the more nephesh can shine through left.

And that's another thing. Don't say they're 'Waiting' for Him.

Oh but they are! They may say, 'Horace,’ 'Perseus,’ ‘Mithra,’ or ‘Krishna.’ Though most of them wouldn’t, there are many who would recognize the Coming One in a moment if they were to see Him face to face! Truly, they will recognize Him when He comes!

But it is not Him they are worshipping! Those are our stories!

Do you really believe your own propoganda? Naphal can create nothing; the Muses from His throne are barred even from whispering to you. You can only twist and pervert. Look up above at these gems, messengers of the Coming One!

Look up indeed! The Zodiac is our most successful myth! Every Aphar culture has adopted it.

The Mazzaroth is your most successful conquest. Do you remember when these were scattered by the Coming One? Every culture remembers it because the Aphar are sons of Adam. Were you not watching when He walked with Adam in the Garden?  My eyes sparkled on that night as the stars sparkle now at the thought of His coming! Was it not then that you first heard of the Virgin with the sheaf of wheat, His coming through the House of Bread, the death of the kernel and then flourishing of the Coming One? Look, there, in the east! Did He not place the three kings, those starry messengers, in line with the Eastern Star to pointing to the sunrise tomorrow as a prophecy of the Sunrise that would one day give light to all the world? Dear me! Sirius is looking bright tonight! And out of place. What is happening?

You always think things are brighter than they are. Would you rob us of all our work? Surely you must grant us Horace. If no one else, he was our invention.

Were you not fighting in that great day of battle, when the Qodesh cleared the way for Gabriel to tell the story of the Coming One to that Egyptian poet? Do you forget the celebration before the Throne when the Egyptians first saw and believed that Horace would die and be raised again?

I’d like to forget it. In fact, I did forget it. No matter. We recaptured Horace. He now serves us.

You did ultimately recapture that myth. But do you know how many Waited for the Coming One because of it? And even apart from interference by the Qodesh or the Naphal, that story echoes on in a thousand songs in a thousand Aphar cultures. But lo!

What is it?

Do you hear that!?

I hear nothing. It's midnight in an open field, and we are away from our respective assignments like two spies! I’m supposed to be in Jerusalem right now! How did I let you talk me into this? I suppose it is accursed friendship that is to blame; its shackles bind me to you, unbroken by an hundred hundred winters and a civil war! Do you feel that? Is it getting warm?

There are three of them. Right there. Singing. Loudly! Did one of yours tempt them to intoxication?

No! Why would I deploy my people in a field? It’s much more efficient to tempt in cities. I do have someone stationed at the inn in this God-forsaken town working on an advanced assignment in Hypocrisy, tempting an otherwise humble innkeeper to inhospitiality. Can you not feel that heat?

Can you not hear that?

My Darkness! They are harmonizing with the Song! That's impossible! Are they... shepherds? How...?

Is that…? Yes! They’re singing Isaiah! I bet you wished you could have stopped us from delivering that message. What a Prophet!

ARGH Isaiah! How are they doing that!?

Is the Veil starting to tear? Is the Dawn finally upon us? Is He here?!

The heat! I cannot bear it! Old friend, I must fly!

Farewell! But I must see! What is this thing! They are truly harmonizing with the Song! Can it be? Has the time finally come? Louder! Louder! Louder! They are singing ever louder! That can’t be human voice! But look there, my comrades! Brother! What news?

He has come!


At last! At last! He has come! Praise the Lord, for He has come! A
cullam has dropped! One like I’ve never seen before! It will be open for one more earth-hour only! Hurry! Join us!

So the Aphar can see us?

Yes. Of course. That’s what cullam means. What, have you been stationed in Sheol? Heaven is always very near Earth, like a bridegroom is near his bride on the wedding night. We become visibility to the Aphar when Heaven kisses Earth, and they kiss in anticipation of the End; its foreplay, if you will, before the final union of Heaven and Earth.

Where are the trumpets and procession? Where are His Mighty Ones? Where, if He has come, is His commander, Michael?

Outside of Rome, along with the larger part of Qodesh. The Enemy saw this invasion coming, but thought it would come to Rome. Michael’s presence there confirmed it to him. The Coming One…I mean, the One Who Has Come, has put Gabriel in command of this mission, for its objective is not conquest but Glory.

Why wasn’t I told?

His coming was a covert op; none of us was told. You’re blessed you’re near enough to join in the Song! Don’t waste any more time! Come with me! This will not be a part of the Song you want to miss! This will be a Song that songs will be sung about! It may even be recorded in The Book! So sing, my brother! Sing with all your heart and soul and mind and strength! Let us declare Glory to God! Peace itself has taken on flesh; there will be Peace on Earth, for the Prince of Peace has come! The Shadow is passing away! Let us declare goodwill toward men! For He has come! He has come, indeed!

Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace,
good will toward men.

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