Invocation of Thee Psychick Temple

“Thee Temple is a church of only LEADERS, no followers. A radical step. Even thee Nazis, though they bred an elite of leaders, still wanted to control thee masses, lead them and entangle themselves with them. We want thee leaders alone. Fuck thee sleeping masses. We have no desire to be superior rulers of boring, dull masses of people who we despise. We want JUST leaders. A church full of leaders, only leaders and not leading anyone. Merely co-habiting. A separate existence for OUR satisfaction. Why waste all that time, energy and vision dealing with boring masses of people. We’ve got better things to do. Enjoying and stimulating ourselves. A self-centered religion instead of a crippling, selfless Christian ideal.”

“Nothing is forgotten, all is permitted. In a stinking cave, muttering babies scream and scratch, furs undulate in copulation. In one corner, bright-eyed first marks are daubed on a wall. They are marks to function, marks of place, of time. They are marks to draw results and persist beyond one human lifetime. Instinct has arisen, snake-like, coiling itself into intuition and suggesting the very power of suggestion. No one noted down from a book this process, it grew from watching the elements, closeness to life-sources, death-forces that modern persons are divorced from. On this damp stone there is a curve, it is land, horizon, ejaculation, movement.”

“I say, ‘We believe in a Christ’. If that being existed physically or not, it’s still important, because the message was so basic and sensible and powerful, that we should live by those truths. Love, compassion, generosity. God doesn’t punish anyone. Churches aren’t needed. Money in connection to belief is an abomination. They say, ‘Oh…’. Then they quote the Old Testament.”

“Art and life really are the same, and both can only be about a spiritual journey, a path towards a re-union with a supreme creator, with god, with the divine; and this is true no matter how unlikely, how strange, how unorthodox, one’s particular life path might appear to one’s self or others at any given moment.”

“Our identity is fictional, written by parents, relatives, education, society.”

"Once upon a time there was a garden. A garden was destroyed by a word.

Destroyed by language. Language became the first memory.

Time was set in motion at this point.

But the garden did not exist within time or language.

It was an exterior neural projection.

A cathedral that worshipped its occupant.

And that was your soul.

The only thing you've got.

And your soul, well, it represented the mind. The mind at preset without light.

And there was nothing to reflect, no mirrors, no shape.

Nothing to fix this particular dream.

And you've got no anchors. You don't know where you are.

You don't know whether you are really existing.

Or whether you've blown everything.

And you've got to become a star...

We have formed sounds, made names. Trapping matter with language.

We perpetuate our tyranny. And drown in a flood of speculation.

And false communication.

Memory is a clock. It's the ageing mechanism of your mind.

You can change it. You can turn it back.

You can set the alarm.

Come on! Must believe. Must believe. Must believe.

Are you listening well? Names are given in order to control.

Names are given in order to control. Listen carefully

To reduce, to comprehend the forces of nature

To demonstrate ownership and failure 

This is the race to come

This is the race of the greyhounds of the future

The greyhounds of the future. The race to name.

The race to name strategy. Strategy.

The poor have grown to be rich

And the rich have grown to be poor Again...

Know that to re-enter immortality

We must ourselves become unnameable.”

(TOPY)

Iglesia del Surf del Cristo Risueño de la Costa LTD. MMXXI ©