Schizophrenic ramblings are great keep it up
Was my conscious influenced to ask questions and look for answers that were already ingrained into the subconscious knowledge already in my brain? These theories of conscious/subconscious interactions always left room for doubts, pondering, and second-guessing. The visual appearance of a ghost, which I could see with my own two eyes and hear with my own two ears, left no doubt that this had to be something more than a tricky word-association game, incorrect informational processing in my cerebral cortex, or whatever the mind could devise to rationalize this fearful cognizance away.
Do not take any of this very seriously, if you go out and kill a child to live out your fantasy, do not say I did not warn you that you run the risk of life in prison or a lethal injection in some states. But remember, Jesus said not to fear those that can merely kill the body, but fear Him that could destroy the soul.
Perhaps, you cannot just go around killing people. This is not possible, even if serial murderers such as myself have demonstrated time and time again that it is actually possible. This announcement is just an exercise in mental thought stimulation, because The Voice asked me to do this. This cannot be serious. It must be meant to be satirical and comical in some way. It is all about what is inside of us. That determines how we see things, the perspective of anything we see.
The moments of joy during the kills were so intense and elating, but the comedown hurts so badly. This is what cocaine blues and heroin withdrawal must be like for the lowly scum drug-addicts in a lost world of hell. Some of my most intimate confessions must come to light; therefore, it is best that I bring them to light upon my own terms. How did this downward decent into hell begin?
As best as I can recall, sometime in my youth I became curious about sex. I must have noticed a particular difference between man and woman that I wished to investigate further. Via observation, my young mind must have come to the conclusion that men and women were paired in “couples”. They were a tandem; mother/father, husband/wife, girlfriend/boyfriend, and so on. This curious recognition must have sparked the seed of curiosity that the devil needed to bait the trap. How little did I know at the age of five what such simple thoughts could lead to in the long run. I noticed something so simple, yet it grew and grew into an all encompassing cancer, an obsession, a disease!
Childish curiosity and daddy's stash of porno: What a deadly combination! If daddy loved me, why have such dangerous and hazardous materials about? A test! A test! “A set-up,” I say. “You should not have looked at those,” daddy would say.
Had I only listened and been a good boy, but why mention it in the first place? A psychological test designed only to bring about failure. The test could not have been passed. The test was not fair! Damnation to all precepts of fair for God answers to no man.
The Cult of /222/ is growing greater each and every day. It is nearly unstoppable now. They talk about Two is Too Young to Die in Internet chat rooms around the world. Some say it is a pseudo-front for the KGB, FBI, terrorists, any and all conspiracy theories.
/222/ IS GOD tee-shirts. It all seems so surreal. The movement has so much influence over the public, now. We have become a God and Our power is growing. We are in magazines, the airwaves, television, radio, the hearts and minds of the next generation. Those that worship Us and Our image; We called them all Our beloved soldiers. We allegedly speak to them through the channels of mass media and telekinesis. They are the ones who hear Our Voice.
Humans think they are able to make choices that tilt the direction of their future in one direction or another, but is the life we live today really something that was consciously constructed by our choices in the past? I mean, in hindsight, sometimes life seems to result from our choices, but does it ever really work out according to our plan. The proverbial “they” have been known to say that it is life that gets in the way of our plans. Or as John Lennon said, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” What a horror it must be to wake up to the realization that life is fabricated from our choices and that all of these choices have doomed us to never attain that which we planned to attain. We are all self-defeating sadomasochistic bastards. By simply choosing a destiny, we have sabotaged any chance of that destiny ever coming into existence as we had envisioned. Who would choose a clownish demise if they were truly in control? We must be compelled by forces greater than ourselves. The gods are puppet masters creating their own perverted divine comedy at the mortals’ expense.
It could be argued that the person possessing an inferiority-complex would gravitate towards another human with a similar such inferiority-complex if for nothing more than merely justifying their own perverted inclinations to self-destruction. Maybe that is the foundation of all the dysfunctional relationships upon which society is built. One pea-brain needs another even more pea-brained companion to feel like the “smart one”. One slut needs an even smuttier friend to feel not so much a slut herself. Candy coating a shit-reality with the clever mechanism of rationalization, utilized via self-comparison to the more heinous pseudo-version of your psychologically projected self--somewhat comprehensible but not very honest. But what about those that use this equation in the inverse--continuously comparing to someone who is superior to make yourself feel inferior. Now that is sickness, mental disease! But these sickos always seem to come in tandem--Masochist must have a sadomasochist and vice versa. Can the justification of self through the idiocy of others be the foundation of so many relationships?
One of the main problems with how this story will eventually be perceived is that all the characters see themselves as the “good guy” of the story. One is going to visualize himself a martyr for absolute righteousness--Casanova is a debauched bastard. Yet the other will choose to see himself as the debonair leading man of a Harlequin romance novel--the other guy is taking his role too seriously. Average Masterchan Chummie, as a minor character, is just a narrator in an short interlude today. If he continues to play the role of the court’s scribe he can only write what he thinks the others may think. He is left anemic, merely translating the meaning of his life in stolid literalisms what others have said about him. He leaves the world never having told his story. It is as if he never lived, never existed. There is no verifiable assurance of what anyone of these gutless characters may have thought. We view only what we view and make some meaning out of it for us, those left in the world of the living, to facilitate continued living, to keep on coping. Average Chummie does cling to the hope trapped inside of Pandora’s box of someday being a larger character in the stage of life. Dreamers. He never contributed to the /222/ thread in any meaningful manner. He wants to define his own life, even if he does not yet know how. As it is, fate has chosen to soon make Average Chummie a main character in the story. He will not be lost in obscurity. The one trait that distinguishes this Chummie from his ordinary counterparts is that he listens to that little prompting in his gut. He listens to the little voice that compels him to action.
~~~~~
Letters from The Potion Seller
J.B.,
I would like to begin by saying it is an honor to be working with someone of such high celebrity status and a true aficionado of hurtcore snuff videos. You are truly a brother and your contributions to our cause will never be forgotten. This is epic level stuff, brother. Remember, don’t tell Madelon about our conversations or our plans for her.
In regards to the movie you sent me, the one where the Mexicans cut up the other Mexicans: I really have no respect for Mexicans. Mexicans are so stupid, but maybe we can use some of the broader thematic elements in Necro Hurtcore. You got to put the edge of the blade between the vertebrae and tap the backside of the knife with a rock or hammer. That separates the ligaments a lot more efficiently than this wack wack wack bullshit. It's kind of ineffective/inefficient killing, but there are some theatrics to the brutality of it all. Firstly, this kind of unnecessary overkill in the video will harden our next generation of hurtcore toppers and copycats to the reality of a harsh job, get their stomachs toughened up. But also the dull knives are for the camera. The simple cap to the head would just be too simple, people wouldn't necessarily fear that as much. It's like crucifixion was as much a political statement as it was a means of execution. That's one thing about Mexicans, they've done some hunting, gutting out squirrels and rabbits, unlike soft city dwellers, so they can more easily transition that childhood butchering experience to this kind of work. They made a point, but for all the guns and drug money, couldn't they get a better camera? Necro Hurtcore has to be in High Definition. This Mexican shit looks like could be fake, made by CIA or something, thus the low resolution. (Makes it easier for Hollywood special effects artists). It looks rough in the beginning, but you get used to it after awhile. We got to leave no doubts that this is the real deal. It’s going to take a lot of work to convince some of the ordinary pedophiles to take shit to the chop chop level for video production, but I definitely have a market in the Russian sector.
I know you’re naturally a choker, but we’ve got to have some butchery for the visual effects if you want Necro Hurtcore to be the best ever. You just turn off the weakness and go to a place where you're cutting up another piece of meat. We’re the hands-on guys of internet child snuff, and then there's the guys that like the distance, i.e. the watchers and the fappers. We’re better than that, brother. There was an old Viking philosophy that said if you couldn't look the man in his eyes before you killed him, then it was not a noble kill. This Mexican shit is amateur shit, nobody in Hollywood cares about this. Definitely none of the big buyers overseas care about that lame ass shit. Dime a dozen. You got to make the murder artistic in some sense, put some of that Andy Warhol shit on it, brother. This shit don't even make my nuts tingle, I like loli’s young body more so and that’s where the market is hot, brother. It seems kind of strange, but I think of male body as stinky where as female loli meat seems more "sweet." It is not about the literal scent though. I did notice them lazy fucks started wacking a bit more with the machete at the end than those dull fucking knives. Stupid Mexicans, all they had to do was wedge the vertebrae apart, they are trying to chop through the bone like a fucking tree limb. I prefer seeing women get killed and chopped up though. Not bad, but not 5 star top gunner. Overall, 3 star, maybe 4 if we were at 720 resolution or higher. But send this link to our Masterchan fans on the mailing list, it will put them in a good frame of mind for further mind rape.
LOL ha ha ha ha ha. Dude, the video of the Asian girl getting fucked and killed was pretty graphic, so I do realize the challenge of creating the storyline and quality filming of the "Best Snuff Film Ever." That's a bold claim, not to be taken lightly. These stupid Mexican drug lords, you get over it emotionally. BTW, some average fag over on Masterchan suggested a tree trimming rip saw for Necro Hurtcore. I liked that idea a lot. Mexicans, they’re just killing other dirt bag drug dealers. I want something that sticks with them forever, makes them feel like “/222/ is the ONLY way to escape the mind rape." Feel me? It's got to make them so fucked up inside that they lose the will, give up the life force. We're ram fucking pure evil into their pia mater, we are jizzing blackness all over their grey and white matter. This project is about the sexualization of murder. Humans are motivated very strongly by the urge for sexual release/satisfaction, so the Two is Too Young to Die project and /222/ project is about tilling the soil of the mind for the process of sexualizing what we desire the subjects actions to be, in this case MK ultra style uprisings by stressing the common pedophile’s mind way beyond the breaking point. See Green River Gary/Ted Bundy for prototypical examples of sexualized killing versus fixation on body parts, i.e. fetishism. (Anus, mouth, feet, breasts, vagina, penis, so on. Now, I said to myself, "Self, how can I sexualize some ordinary chumster to orgasm at the sight of not just the loli’s naked flesh, (a la ordinary sexual deviant pedophile) but at the sight of bleeding, mutilated flesh, a la Luka Magnotta?" Things you can to gradually edge the subjects in said direction is heavily weighted in phraseology, I have discovered. For example, instead of saying "stabbing" we say "Stab Fucking" them to death. See how it now becomes sexualized? No worries, sadist murdering serial killers are not made over night, they are cultivated like potatoes. Remember how I drove Crazy Jimmy insane? LOL H ah ah ha ah ah ha ha. Later, bro.
J.B.,
As usual, don’t tell Madelon what I am telling you. When we get the 100 monkeys, maybe this will set off an international phenomena. /222/ mass killers and rapists posting videos all over the internet of themselves beating off on the dead corpses of little girls and I will get the credit. I will get my GLORIFICATION, too!
Really, I am not that powerful without Lucifer inside of me. I am kind of timid until I allow Satan to take over the Temple, so to say. Then I am powerful, but it's a mindset really. It's like there are two of me inside this one Temple of flesh. Satan wants this temple to manifest his work in this realm, i.e. what you know as physical reality. (See "Letter to Editor" demon hunter manifesto fucked that kid’s brain up. When his mom put him on Fanapt, he really thought they were going to swizzle his brain for real. Of course, I wrote the programming to frenzy his mind after the fact, but he was so far into the induction of temporal illusion by this time.) You have to let him get deep into the cheese pizza, to the point of no return as the book explains, there will be some flashing of lights. They are kind of like mini-seizures, but that means there is a re-wiring of the neuro-plasticity in the brain. The mind is so susceptible to suggestion. If you get to the weird mini-seizure, light-flashing or blind-spots-in-your-eyes phase, you are well on your way. High blood pressure, migraines, intense stress and withdrawal symptoms are a good thing in this case. Trust me. This is what it takes to get your mind in "THE CLEAR" to perform for a live video feed audience. Because I have killed more people for live audiences, I’m going to talk you through the steps so that you can get this shit up and running. If you’re willing to go down, you will be the most famous deepweb phenomena ever. Nobody will be able to top this. You’re not just some common dumb fuck from the streets, you’re J.B. Ramsey for crying out loud. (From here on out we have to speak in codes to some degree because of the borderline legalities of what we are instigating some of the mentally ill accessories into doing, in reference to that Madelon deal.)
J.B.,
As far as the video you wanted me to watch for Necro Hurtcore ideas: I kept getting distracted by the cam whore ad on the side. She got a pretty meaty pussy. Who would want to fuck an old cow’s loose pussy when there’s so much good candy waiting to be had? As for the movie...eh, seen all the shit before in the movie Casino. Robin Williams and Matt Damon already...wait, Joe Pesci and Robert DeNiro already done that, though they did not cut the head off, buried alive and it was maybe more gruesome spiritually in Casino, because Nikki Santoro had to watch his brother get beat to death first, very painful to realize that he wasn't such a good bro because he got his little bro beat to death. Brings a tear to me eye.
Sad really. You got to pay the piper in the end, or the asshole. LOL you get beat to death or raped as old man in prison, better to finish things off with a bang.
J.B.,
Did I ever tell you about my dad from over on one of my other mind rape youtube accounts? I think I did, if you are the account I was thinking. Dad went to Vietnam and taught me that the world is full of evil "gooks", but gooks is allegorical. Don't be too literalistic, little bro. I speak in codes and parables, similar to my other bro Jesus. But we got into a disagreement a few years ago...Girlfriend got murdered n all, so I kind of went over to the "dark side." Anyway, dad taught me to kill cats to toughen me up in case I had to ever go to war. He didn't want me to be so weak that a stupid "gook" would kill me if I hesitated. An experienced killer don't hesitate. The first kill is the hardest, bro. We cut the legs of the cat off and I rammed sticks into the stubs and called her "Peggy" (Peg Leg, Get it. Ok, dad was the one calling her Peggy, but I thought it was funny so I say I thought it up.) Sometimes, we'd light them on fire with starting fluid...it was easy cause I didn't like cats. It was when he killed my dog that I learned the true meaning of emotional sacrifice.
I know we both have that Christianity cover, that’s why I relate to you so well. I seek this sort of Jesus and God the Father kinship with you, bro. I want you to give me some info on the girl, not Madelon, the two year old you made arrangements to purchase. It's one thing to kill things you detest, to get to the next level you have to sacrifice like God the Father, something beautiful, something you love. We’re going to need Jan. Give me the inside info on her and you will attain more power, too. Is she in the deal? Can she be trusted? It is like Cain in the Garden of Eden, he gave God the firstfruits, which means the fruits that fell on the ground...It was half-assed, God was like you didn't want this anyway. Now, Abel, he gave his most precious, loved, spotless, stainless lamb, so young, so innocent, so pure. Now God said, "This is well pleasing to Me because you are giving me something precious to you." I need something precious and pure, you do understand where I am going with this? You have to sell them out, become the Judas in a sense you your pretty and intelligent girlie friend. The way to glorification is the way of Judas, don't worry, it's just a test. Judas in the Gnostic version is glorified, Catholics suppressed the Truth. They want you to be more attached to your worldly friends than God. God created them and can make more friends for you by simply speaking to the stones. Do not see with your physical eyes, you know who I am. Be glorified level forever. Nothing to lose, nothing to gain. Make our lives into a work of art, die young. I am going crazy, but I am living free...Artwork, poetic artwork, a modern day tom sawyer, mean mean ride. Remember how it started with The Voice talking through Rush and me taking the mind rape to the Next Level through the lyrics?
I suspect a good likelihood that you’ve done some sexually pervert scat play somewhere along the line. Maybe some experimentation in the dark taboo of bestiality. Maybe it remained confined to fantasy, maybe you have jacked your dog off. It’s all the same, you were thinking or doing. On to the point--You're not going to find release until you deal with something via TRUTH--why not, everybody can see "it" upon you. It's like the mark of Cain, Cain was paranoid because he thought for sure everyone could see what he had done or would figure it out--hell, if you act like a paranoid psycho, who wouldn't see the "mark" upon on you, smell it upon you? Deal with it, please. For you. For me. We need you at your best for filming.
J.B.,
Well, chum, it's been quite the surprise how things developed over time between us--How could have I imagined such an ending? We will have a mighty vengeance upon those goddamned Christian temptresses--a whore Judas and me the Christ. Sorry, J.B., this gets me emotional. I am just trying to be honest.
I once had a whore who proclaimed all these morals that she "believed in. “But she was a liar--so how could I not feel deceived beyond a capacity to forgive? She trampled upon sacred things. If she had just portrayed yourself as she truly was, then any misgivings would have been upon my shoulders to bear. She chastised me for cussing, but she herself cussed. She was a prostitute, drank alcohol, smoked cigarettes, used drugs, fucked around, had bastardized children--but I say, "So what!" It is not that she was this whore, but that she lied and played games with someone's feelings, played with someone's heart by pretending to be dedicated with her "baptism" and "faith" in Christ. I hate Christ and Christianity for people like her. And they judge me because I am attracted to young girls? Jesus is dead and just a fucking pathetic fantasy that people use to cope with this world. Look at this world and tell me if you think someone should have faith in this Jesus from what they say.
OK, point the finger at me. I'm the crazy one. Fuck the God the system represents. Can anyone figure this out? If this bitch represents Jesus, then Jesus is a piece of shit. Does she think she really represents Jesus? Why in the fuck go around luring someone one in on the pretense of your "faith" and beliefs? Why? Christians make me sick--they're so fucking fake but can find fault with everyone else but themselves. I remember back when she was a crusader for the down-trodden and underprivileged chickens of the world? Some PETA trip. Or when she proclaimed she were going to crusade for the rights of patients in mental wards! Now what is she crusading for? Worried about chickens, but give no thought to another human being with the same regard as a fucking stupid chicken. PRIORITIES!!! What is a main priority in this world? Saving chickens and farm animals in a PETA-psychotic misapplication of priority, or saving starving human souls? The boys of /222/ are starving for what we have to offer. We ain’t got time for worshipping chickens...Damn, if Satan really exists, he sure twisted this bitch up and took me down with you for taking her at face value. You're GODDAMNED right I am disappointed in the world. I have the right to be. And I say fuck God if she’s the type of woman that is supposed to be a man's helpmate/soulmate.
(Introduce the term “Raping Passion” here for the Necro Hurtcore script)
J.B.,
Some thoughts have come to me, though I must say I am not quite certain if I am headed in the right direction with those thoughts.
Sometimes, when I cannot find the reason behind something or I cannot understand it so well, I try to fill in the blanks with what I believe is the most logical premise available. But this process leads to inherent uncertainty, as it must, since is based solely on what I assume is the most logical scenario that is possible given the bits of information I am given to contemplate and then form into a summation of events.
Now from here on out I have to fill in some blanks with theories I have—not that I know that they are true or false. They very well may be false. But this is MY theory. Pardon me if I am wrong. I can only relay what the view was from my vantage point. I do realize, sometimes, that the character of who I am on the inside sometimes biases my interpretation of what I perceive as happening in the external world.
Now, I thought the point of your letter—the ominous letter!—was that you were trying to send a counter-message. The idea of it all being: How could the INFAMOUS letter be woven into what I had previously known of you? It was, admittedly, quite out of your public character.
I had to conclude which person I thought was the real you—I think it is still the person revealed in the code of the “confessional” letter. It’s sort of a Catch-22 for me. A paradox. On the other hand, if you were, as I had previously hypothesized, making a point through the sophistry of sarcasm that I did not understand so well. I have been there before, and before you know it, the entire relationship is based on one-upping the last smart-assed remark with something even more creative and sarcastic. So how did you actually plan to leave Patsy holding the bag before Arndt fucked up the investigation?
Perhaps, I overanalyze everything and read reason and rhyme into nooks and crannies where it does not exist. You felt you wanted to be honest with me, and therefore told me about the situation. I am drawing a blank from this point--why did you tell me? Why did you feel you wanted to be honest with me about this particular point? AND why in the heck did you get so mad about me saying that you can never truly ever know anything real about anyone?
Anyway, the basic premise is that it hurts to want someone you can’t have--or shouldn’t have. I understood your desire to have JonBenet. So why put yourself in that situation? I am not some great, saintly person or anything—but I have some things (codes) that I think are best adhered to if not simply for the logic of safety and sanity. You saying that you’re trying to cope with things by murdering JonBenet made me think that we don’t have that much in common after all. Or maybe we do since the ransom note can be interpreted two ways.
I shall venture to elucidate my perspectives as the evolutionary process of my mind continues. It seems distinctly evident that any bridging of the gap between two separate human intellects must eventually descant upon the anthropological estimation of the “God”-concept and the apotheosis of Jesus. The Scottish philosopher, David Hume (1711-1776), propounded that all humanistic knowledge came from experience and that all these so-labeled “experiences” existed solely in the mind of the perceiver as individual units of experience. I would say this is very akin to modern psychology’s term, “psychological projection”. According to Hume’s arguments, whatsoever a person directly experienced could be nothing more than the contents of his or her own individual consciousness, or mind.
Hume called very forceful units of experience perceptions and less distinct units were labeled beliefs or thoughts. I.e., cutting your finger is a perception, where as the feelings of infatuation for a romantic partner or religious ideologies would be labeled beliefs/thoughts. Each unit of experience was separate and distinct from all other units, though the units were usually experienced as connected.
According to Hume, three principles connected associated ideas with each other: (1) resemblance, (2) contiguity, and (3) cause and effect. In resemblance, if two units of experience resembled each other, thought of one experience led to thought of the other. In contiguity, if two units adjoined each other in near proximity, thought of one provoked thought of the other. In cause and effect, if one unit constantly preceded another, thought of the first resulted in thought of the second.
Hume attacked the theory of causality. This principle maintains that nothing can happen or exist without first a cause. Hume believed that although one event (set of impressions) always preceded another, this did not prove absolutely that the first event caused the second. The constant conjunction of two events built up the expectation that the second event would take place after the first. But this was nothing more than a strong belief or habit of mind ingrained through experience. One could never prove that there were actual causal connections among impressions. Now we have the basis for the directed creation of temporal illusions knowing that effect sometimes can precede cause.
Hume being agnostic, believed the existence of God could never be “proven”. He maintained that even granting God’s existence, nothing could be absolutely established the nature of God. On the other hand, Hume accepted that God’s existence could not be invalidated either.
Now I afford that the simple aphorism, “you cannot squeeze orange juice from an apple,” pertains quite neatly to the previous disquisition. This would mean rather simply that any perception of an event is rooted in the labels our very own mind applies to the circumstances perceived. The deification of Jesus in so many variously interpreted forms... And one is still left to beseech themselves, “What does any of this have to do with the price of cheese pizza?”
Letter to Masterchan.org/222/
Soon, selected children will be murdered in a span of only several weeks for your viewing pleasure and sexual satisfaction. People have all labeled us some sort of monsters. They simply do not understand our genius, so I will try to enlighten them as I have enlightened my previous “victims,” as you so boorishly designate them. But, hey, every man has to live to some philosophy. Of course, some man may label the “philosophy” with some neat little name and criterion—so finite and shortsighted the commoner!
At this juncture in my narration to you, the chums of /222/, I say that I had pondered upon how to describe the “murders” from my vantage-point. I had thought to label these said murders as “brutal murders”, “horrific murders”, or, perhaps, “brutal and horrific murders”. Suffice it to say, these are inadequate, not to mention quite generic and commonplace designations. So how will I describe the murders adequately? They are soul-raping murders! But not of who you think!
I was an angry man from what I saw. Ha! This seething rage I keep hidden. I greet the world with my “happy face.” Through the daily motions I go, waiting ever so patiently for my special moments of glorification.
Back to the topic of philosophy. There happen to be a few great names, but in the English-speaking world, Jesus has to stand out as foremost amongst the great philosophers. There is Plato and some existentialists of some renown, but Jesus is the most distinguished, I reckon, of all. Always, there is a “prophet” amongst the throng of humanity. Most come and go—fade away into dust and are forgotten. And yet there are the handful that become eternalized. Now, I shall become an eternal prophet, as well.
Interpretations of these philosophers are proscribed—the pedantic rambler believing his interpretation is “correct” and, somehow, vastly more clever and insightful than any other that is available. The whole of philosophy is simple: each individual draws from self what is within the self. Two persons can be given the same data and come to completely different conclusions. Therefore, the Social Justice Warriors have misinterpreted my deeds, not of me, but of imaginations that you have drawn from that which is within your very own minds.
Some adhere to a belief that all people are intrinsically good. If we read the Bible, is this what Jesus says? I would say not. “Jesus”—however he is interpreted, real or a character of a moralistic fable based in Idealism—gives information to the disciples in parables. Jesus describes humanity in terms of “wheat and chaff”. Good people are the “wheat,” and the wicked are the “chaff.” The story ends with the wheat-people going to “heaven” to live in righteous harmony, joy, and so forth. The chaff-ee is nabbed by some angels and tossed into a fire and burnt. Burnt alive, dead for eternity—this is not the issue. The point is, some people are good and some are, indeed, bad. Contrary to the common image of the meek coward, a true Pedophile is a warrior—strong mind, body, and soul—willing to “murder” for his beliefs.
Murdering the Word—taking the Word out of context and murdering the meaning, just as you have murdered the meaning of my citywide purge. Somebody had to start the war.
There is evil. It is real. But, I am not the evil one.
Evil does not quite exist as the ordinary folks have been trained to believe. We live in a physical world, even if the human condition is soul—emotion, thought, creativity, noble ideals and dreams. Perhaps, there is a realm beyond human vision where all things originate, but to exist and live in this world means to manifest as a physical being made of flesh and bone. These bodies, infinitely complex, are vulnerable, even mortal. Some say that we live on after the death of the body, some say we will not. To each his own to decide on such things. Nevertheless, existence in this realm depends upon a manifestation of physical being. Does life manifest first in thought then into physicality? Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Whatever. But we all must concur, that manifestation in the "flesh" is the means to accessing this world. How you define flesh is up to you. Some call it physical reality, atoms, matter, a lower realm of being, a higher realm of being—who knows? But the nuances of the definition are not vital to understanding: we are talking about the same concept! We all communicate to one another via this great cosmic mystery of the “flesh”—some call it the “universe.”
The concept of reality is based upon laws. There is the law of gravity, for example. Evil men are bound by the law of gravity pretty much the same as good men are. Thus, the laws are the rules by which mankind “plays the game of life.” Thus, in order to play the game, you have to be in the field of play. Mathematicians like the field of play to be defined in mathematical terms. Scientists use languages such as physics, biology, and chemistry. Others prefer to define the field of play in terms of spiritual concepts, romantic themes, and philosophies. All aspects are interconnected, but whether or not each separate “player” sees this connection is a separate discussion. Let physical reality be the obtuse definition for the playing field of life.
I’ll ask the readers to forgive the grammatical construction and design of my narration. My expertise does not lie within the world of proper grammar. I am a child rapist and murderer and aspiring child snuff porn producer. This is what I do. This is what I aim to be.
Raping a child is not nearly enough. It’s about the kill! To satiate the demon, the essence of the child’s soul must be ingested first. Of course, the terms soul and ingested refer to concepts difficult to describe in human words. Sometimes, a demon is control. They are instincts and compulsions. They are real, but are in a higher realm than hobgoblins. The power of the demon so deludes a soul as to make evil seem to be good. This is an oversimplification, but gives a generalized explanation of what is happening in the mind of the demon-infested.
Through many laborious hours of painstaking research upon live subjects, I learned methods of prolonging the child’s life. You cannot simply cut the arms off a child without some preparation if you want to savor the prolonged agony. Let us all take a somber moment to contemplate and sympathize with the parents of toddlers that have to die. This is business. Pedophilia is my business. If you want a debate on morality take it to your local SJW chat board. As you can see, I am a demon. I am /222/. The old fairy-tale concept of “demons” blinds the mind to seeing that a true demon is not a singular entity. The demon lives inside of more than one host body. The true demon needs a human mind to exist and propagate.
There are levels of human existence. One level is the individual, a level a bit higher than the individual self is the family. Demons exist at all levels, but the demons at the World and National Levels are most powerful. The Individual Demon feeds off the Parental Demon, as a piglet to the tit.
As there are demons, so are there “Angels.” The World Level Entities have been in a struggle that has been increasing in magnitude as the growth of Humanity progresses. Who will rule the Earth and Mankind in the End?
THE DEMONIC TRUTH
I am not alone.
Coincidence plays a great part in the history of the world. The acceleration or delay of events depends to a large degree upon such accidents, which also include the personalities of those at the head of the movement.
–KARL MARX, letter to Kugelmann, 1871
~~~~~
If there is one thing I learned from the JonBenet murder investigation, it is this: Everyone has a tell at the poker table.
Patsy was a psychopath. She targeted JonBenet simply because JonBenet outshined Patsy. Patsy wanted to subjugate and humiliate people that were perceived as threats to her superiority. Anyone that was better than Patsy was considered a threat. I think Patsy took a sick glee in helping to destroy JonBenet because JonBenet had out performed Patsy, became more sexually desirable. This ate Patsy alive, gnawed at her flesh. The targeting initially began as a subconscious thing, but soon developed into an overt rivalry.
Patsy’s delusions of grandeur had been shattered by the cancer, her body had taken a beating. Time and gravity took away her youthful look and as all women do, Patsy had become a used-up breeding sow. The ruination of her body coupled with her childish sense of having to compete with her young daughter led to her well-earned fear of inferiority. Patsy’s old, floppy pussy could not be compared with what JonBenet had to offer. Pasty knew this as well as anyone else. Patsy was easy to read. You just had to learn to tune her out, at times.
Patsy never appeared normal as far as I was concerned. She wanted to appear as if she were a kind, considerate, and caring mother, but I always felt she never knew when to dial down the act to a more believable level. I often cringed when Patsy would feel the need to emphasize what she was saying with some dramatic flare. As I stated before, Patsy was a B-level actress at best. I was afraid that she would reveal herself by trying too hard. She enjoyed causing her enemies pleasure just as much as anyone else. Patsy wanted to humiliate and subjugate JonBenet. It was about power. Patsy needed JonBenet’s emotional dependence. We started losing that
control in the year prior to JonBenet’s elimination.
Patsy looked like a normal citizen. She used church involvement as a convenient cover for her nefarious activities and desires. Church goers are suckers, they want to believe everyone else is driven by the same pathetic sentimentalities that fetter weaklings. Normal is meaningless, it is devoid of any intrinsic moral value. To sum up Patsy in a nutshell, she was a small-minded tyrant.
Patsy’s was a beguiler, a seductress. That is what she was slowly turning JonBenet into, as well. She knew how to use the allure of the forbidden fruit to her advantage, or so she thought. I was always in control, but sometimes I would let her have her petty delusions. She knew how to make the fruit seem much sweeter by virtue of the taboo. Patsy knew the basics about creating mentality-based motivations in human males, until her body was played out. Then she had nothing with which to work, except for JonBenet’s pristine flesh. Patsy used the anticipation of JonBenet’s succulent flesh as her bargaining chip at the poker table.
Patsy’s piss poor acting is what gave us away to Linda Arndt. Patsy wrote the letter then just acted guilty. I wanted to slap the shit out of her for that ridiculous performance during the 911 call. She was an easy read, to say the least. I thought I was going to have to kill the whole lot of them and make a hurried escape. It was a testament to my mental fortitude that I was able to maintain my composure, Patsy completely fucking up the plan with her poor acting. I know there was a bit of luck involved, because Patsy was the weak link. One of her defensive mechanisms was the nervous use of inappropriate “humor” to deflect her feelings of being accused. Patsy was too damn obvious. Thank god, she is dead. What kind of mother makes jokes about how they hoped the prison outfits had vertical stripes for their slimming effect after their 6 year old child has been brutally murdered? Every goddamned time she opened her mouth, she made us appear more guilty. This is the piss poor acting and give-away behavior that irritated me so much about Patsy. There was no damn way I could trust her to be interviewed alone. Hell, she gave us away when we were interviewed together publicly, how much damn blabbering would she have meandered off into had I not been there?
My tell has always been my “flat aspect.” Most of us killers have it. We have to go into the other view of reality, subduing emotional expressiveness and feeling. Sometimes, I catch myself going too flat at the poker table so I have to switch it up with some feigned indignation. But I do it subtle, not the sugary way in which Patsy embellished. I am a pretty good liar. I know things. I know how to portray confidence and that relaxed appearance of a man that has nothing to hide. I stay cool, calm, and collected under pressure. When JonBenet was laying dead in the basement, I knew I had to keep my wits about me. No reason to panic, just stay professional. Patsy clammed up and I could not believe how damn suspicious she was making us appear. B-level actress on her best day.
This is part one of our little scavenger hunt. Two is too young to die, but I doubt you morons will be able to read between the lines and break the code that will save her life. I have given you all the information you need to locate the child that I purchased from Madelon. Auna Mason’s video
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y9ki9WlaIqc&list=UUh5ApedwanCVCsvO3PoNPvw has all the information to decipher the latitude and longitude of my little torture chamber of fuck. My disciples know that The Potion Seller is keeping an eye on things at
https://masterchan.org/222/. You don’t have to respect our bussiness, but you will respect Two is Too Young to Die crew.
Part two will be Necro Hurtcore. Hurry, the clock is ticking.
the pushback is getting heavier, like ICE protests which don’t make sense to me but whatever, rolling with it.
