The Temple of Babalon in Ophidia
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Book I: Prosapia
The Axiomata of the Ophidian Lineage

  Chapter 5: On the Nature of Babalon

Book II: Principia
The Philosophy of Ophidian Thelema

  Chapter 5: The Nature of the World Soul II
  Chapter 6: The Priestesses of Heka
  Chapter 7: The Ordeals of Underworld
  Chapter 8: The Principles of the
                      Great Liberating Mother
  Chapter 9: The Brotherhood of the Midnight Sun

Book III: Natura
The Customs of the Ophidian Indigene

Book IV: Commentaria
The Account of Ophidian Proclamations

  ... more coming soon

Book V: Heka
The Rituals of the Temple.

(To remain mostly unpublished.)

Book VI: Liber Spirituum
The Records of the Spirits.

(To remain unpublished.)

The Magickal Philosophy of Templum Babalonis

Book 1 - Prosapia

The Axiomata of Ophidian Thelema

Also known as: The Lineage

Ophidian Star

The Words of Hagia Auriavia

Every Man and Every Woman is a Star

NoboromantuCome closer. Let me tell you more about this War. The War that I have mentioned many times before. It is time.

Babalon and Her allies have been telling us for many, many years, over time, and in stages of this war. It is a very great war. It is a spiritual war. It is a temporal war. There is no separation between the “planes”, what we know as The Realms. All exists at once. As above, so below.

This war is for the life of Gaia. This war will change this Realm forever. This war will change you forever. You and I are a part of Gaia. We are as cells in Her body. She is our mother and we are a part of Her life force. We function in ways most do not understand. Our temporal selves cannot exist without the imbuement of Her Soul.

The fronts in the war are innumerable. Every man and every woman is a star. Two divided for love’s sake, for the chance of union. Two become one. There are two. When those two are preyed upon and twisted into division, rather than union, all creation stops. All magick stops. All possibility stops. All future stops. Humanity stops. It dies.

When those two begin to consume themselves rather than bear fruits of possibility, all that is generated is poison. All that is created is destruction. This cannibalism is a cancer deep within the body of Gaia.

The people were caretakers, healers, guardians. The people were the immune system for Gaia. The people are all but gone. It is as if a person were injected with something that destroys the immune system, so that the body is no longer what it was meant to be and is changed into that which the enemy needs for it to be. Shackled. Perverted. Destroyed. This is not the first time this has happened, though it was so long ago that no one remembers, save a few.

Every man and every woman is a star.

Now, there is an infection. It is a deadly toxin. It is a madness. It is a soul-killer. It is a Sign. It leaves nothing but an empty, brittle shell. It ravishes all sensibility. It perverts all innate qualities and turns them putrid and self-consuming.

It has twisted all that was love, all that was nurturing, all that was a manifestation of the creation of Nu, and turned it into vile abomination. And the mother’s killed their babies. And the women attacked their men with venom, and betrayed one another, until there was no one left.

Oh, Wise Tanech! The women were the weavers of the fabric, of family, of tribe, of culture, of the past, of the future. Cohesion. Stability. Beauty. Joy. The consciousness of the continuity of existence.

Babalon. She is a Force. She is a Being. She is a Guardian of all that is Life, the manifestation of the creation of Nu. Existence. Creation. Life. Female. Nuit. Babalon. The manifestation of Life in female has been perverted, co-opted, subverted, and thus weaponized. Not for you. Against you.

Ah, man, how I loved thee. The snake of light is your spirit, not your penis. Let us not forsake the penis, for it is good. But let us be kings for a moment.

I am the secret Serpent coiled about to spring: in my coiling there is joy. If I lift up my head, I and my Nuit are one. If I droop down mine head, and shoot forth venom, then is rapture of the earth, and I and the earth are one.

There is great danger in me; for who doth not understand these runes shall make a great miss. He shall fall down into the pit called Because, and there he shall perish with the dogs of Reason.

Spirit, not body. Spirit, not thought, not mind.

As woman is being dismantled, piece by piece, rendered, so too is man. There is greatness in nobility. There is a great honor in the potential of man, for men are the great beasts, the Lions, those who pull the Chariot of the goddess. Those beast upon whom She stands. Those guardians and warriors at Her command.

In the people, they kept order amongst the tribe. They provided, sustained. They ensured the continuance. They propagated it. They protected it. The purpose of their virility realized. Father to family. Father to tribe. Father to and of the People. There are no people without the Father. There is no life without the Sun bearing down upon Gaia. All is but potential without His Light.

But alas, every man and every woman are feverishly shredding one another into unsavory bits of fetid flesh. There are no Stars here. Perhaps a few still sparkle in the darkness, waiting. Perhaps, our calling shall draw them forth.

Burn Brightly, for it is Time.

Step forth upon the charred cinders of humanity. It will not stink for long, as Gaia regenerates all into fertile ground for new life to dawn again.

Every man and every woman is a star.

Burn brightly, for it is time.

In Nomine Babalon et vox Sancta Meretricis
In Nomine Noboramantu

Ending Flourish

(There are more writings to be added to this section. Please check back soon.)

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