Vajra Sword Two

Song Of The Day: Constant Craving / K.D. Lang Word Of The Day: Scortation / Fornication The Vajra Sword blog I posted a few days ago has evoked a lot of reactions. I got a lot of email on it, and I would like to underline a couple points. #1, In doing Big Mind, it's critical to LET THE VOICE SPEAK. Allow it to completely, totally come through as it is. Not as we wish it to be, not as we would like it to sound, not as we want it to reflect on us as personalities. #2, In that spirit, I'm going to let the voice respond to the reactions. I give you, Vajra Sword. Stuart: You upset some people, you know. I got emails, people felt your harshness was sort of crazy. What about love? What about compassion? What about the community of shared intention, the spiritual directive to serve the awakening of all beings? Vajra Sword: My allegience is to ¿What. My home is Reality. I invite you in, because you knocked. You knock and knock and knock, but when push comes to shove you won't step over the threshold. You refuse entry because the door only opens when you insert that collostamy bag you call a skull into the key hole and receive the instant decapitation which is Recognition. But your kind abides in delusion and blathers about Reality. You worship a mirage and bemoan its symptoms. Especially the "spiritual" ones, you sanctimonious, precious fucking POSEURS. It is staggering, simply stunning the depth of your duplicity. Thanks to you fucking Kosmic Frauds, the word "spiritual" is meaningless. As inviscerated as "God" or "Love" or "Awake". Your prayers and mantras are echolalia. Spirituality. The Reality I invite you into is nothing less than your own Native Endowment, your conditionless Condition. The inevitability of that eventless Event escapes you. You still think you're going to get something through the door. Your identity. Your loved ones. A concept, a quality, a story, your history, your acheivements, something, some fucking ridiculous phantasm in the treasury of shit-biscuits you guard and covet. NOTHING -not your "love" for you daughter, not your artwork, not your family and its storied history, not your culture, your country, your species, your World, or any single fucking FEATURE of the hallucination you regard as reality- NOTHING is coming through MY DOOR. Except you. You are coming through this door. Now or later, I don't care. This is the placeless place, the stateless state. There is no such thing as two times, no such thing as two places. So take your time. Stay in your place. Your number is marked. I will literally dismantle, detonate, and demolish every fucking thing you hold sacred. Not because I hate you, not because I love you (you prisoner to polarities). It is not so you will evolve, grow, or "realize" something, you selfish miserly FUCK. It is because Reality IS. That's all. Every anthropomorphic perspective you clutch and cling to, desperately scrambling to scrutinize and decipher this riddle, will fall short. You're still looking out of your head. You still think you're going to figure it out, that there's a meaning, a purpose, a plan, a POINT- because you are too busy sucking the cock of Ambition, too busy prostrating yourself before Desire, Attainment, to stand -FOR ONE FUCKING MOMENT- stand at the Point of All Places. You sad, pathetic fuck. Shut your poisonous mouth. You make me sick. Because you are sick, and it is my lot to KNOW YOU absolutely, to possess your heart, to feel the very depths of your Being that you refuse to. It is my gift to know the secrets, shadows, and promise of your Essence which you refuse and deny, becuase you need to spend another moment bathing in the Fraud that is your spiritual seeking. You are the real Judas, you fucking coward. The historical Judas? A co-conspirator with Christ. But you? You're the worst sort of traitor. You employ the trappings of spirituality in order to forestall its possibility. You undermine Humanity. And we -the Agents of ¿What, Constitutents of Mystery- usually do not care that you're so fucking lost. Humans are but one ephemeral typology in an infinite Matrice of beings. Even on your one tiny planet, endless variation is in play. Many forms of bipeds came before Homo-homo Sapiens, and countless others will follow. Hear that? FOLLOW. Subsequent species in your line. What little distinction you possess comes from the fact that you (fraudulently) claim to be interested in Reality. In Awakening. In God. But you want manageable reality, which is delusion. You want a digestable awakening, which is slumber. You want a God that not only conforms to your preferences, but elevates them, sanctifies them. And that is putrid, to say the least. As I said, normally I wouldn't care. We'd let it slide. We have let it slide with numerous species, on countless occassions. But since you said ¿What, you invoked the Mystery. You KNOCKED ON MY FUCKING DOOR, you made it my business. You have conscripted my service. So, I am here. Spirit's envoy, sent to murder all you fucking pretenders in "spirituality". Everything you hold dear, every single thing you know and love, and all that you abhor and detest, all of it is Marked. I will annihilate every quality and coordinate you relied upon to orient the Lie of your existence. No thing survives, nothing endures. That's as close as I can get to telling you anything about spirituality in your present condition. You and your kind are blasphemy. Not one feature or facet you cherish will make it through my door. You have one choice, and that is to participate, or to resist. When I come for you, lean into me. Contradict your fear, and fall into me.