Living in a country that lacks the certainty that comes with a state religion, I am sure you are following the useless tradition of New Years Resolutions. Do they work? The road to the future is littered with the rotting corpses of failed New Years Resolutions. Why participate in failure? Are you a stupid primate, throwing poo at the hungry leopard? Maybe it is time for you to evolve into a winner, someone who gets what he wants, obtains the choicest rewards, and dominates his world. This New Years, put some high alloy steel into your resolution by inviting Set, the Snake God into the picture.

Missionaries of Set, the Snake God

Send me your money. The Toronto sect of Set, the Snake God is not all about orgies, drugs, whores, elimination of rivals, and dark, leisurely vengeance upon rivals. There is a higher purpose to the teachings, a greater purpose, an elevating spiritual impulse that inspires creativity in our drive doing what we are all about. You feel good. You are relaxed. A deep feeling of contentment is upon you. Smile, just as crocodile smiles going about his business. The Missionaries of Set the Snake God not only exist, are many in number, are active in your community, but they are doing the good work, spreading the whispered message, and planting post hypnotic suggestions. I have been asked to reveal this to you, so that you can share in the elevation of others by sending me your money. Send me your money.

It takes money to do good things. The progressives know this, and use the tinsel constructs of their lying media to create the illusion of doing good, even as their white guilty sticky fingers go about spending your money on themselves. They lick their lips as poverty always gets worse, racism spreads, and injustice drips onto vegetarian buffets. You want to do good. Overthrowing the state, rounding up the white marxist traitors, and manning the guillotines is too slow. Why not turn to the methods of our pre Christian ancestors, in the days before Christ, before oppressive Roman Law, back when the gap between rich and poor was even smaller than in the Golden Days of Orange Ontario? The Missionaries of Set, the Snake God are working towards this. You can help them to help you to achieve your goals. And because the followers of the Sect of Set, the Snake God are all about results, here is an anecdote to convince you of the utility and truth of the statement: send your money to Fenris Badwulf.

I went out into the darkness, the new moon was a crescent just risen, as I walked the streets of Toronto. I work in darkness say the followers of Set, the Snake God. I was walking in darkness in one of the oppressed areas of Toronto, where all the social spending goes, but where no results happen. I wanted to help. I care. There, as I walked and prayed * I fell into walking beside a young lady. She was sad and unhappy. Instead of crying she had all the body language of someone going through withdrawal from heroin. Poor sad girl, dressed mostly in black, and not fat like a baby momma. It was her birthday, she told me; her name was Jessica. I looked up to the sliver of the moon and gave thanks to Set, the Snake God. Here was an instrument for the Greater Purpose of Digestion, because Set, the Snake God likes digestion.

I wished Jessica a Happy Birthday. She smiled, on that face so unused to smiling, more used to crying (and a nose worthy of a witch, three times broken, I might add). I apologized that I had no dope to share with her, having smoked it all just previously as I lurked in the Victorian quarter near Ossington with my friend and fellow devotee of Set, the Snake God, Jack. I said that I could buy dope, if she knew where to get it. She smiled again (this was her second smile; it warmed my heart; I care). She invited me back to her place, to celebrate her birthday. I gave her money, and she bought dope.

As I sat amongst the spent needles, mysterious ashes upon the coffee table, and other assorted flotsam of the signs of capital failure of the progressive run social welfare system, I raised up a prayer to Set, the Snake God: how could I help this fallen woman where the activists had taken decades of tax dollars and failed? They had lined their pockets, twisted minds, and done jack shit. Jessica was in need; how could I turn her into a halberd * of efficiency? Jessica returned with dope: not pot, alas. I apologized: crack is bad for my hypertension: please Jessica, it is your birthday, enjoy it all. She smiled for the third time. It takes a strong soul, trained in the evil sciences, warmed by the moon of scorpio, to resist an opiate. I am motivated by my desires for the revealed objectives of the Illuminati of the Etobicoke chapter of Set, the Snake God. Opium is but asprin compared to the delights of the temple ritual; so Jessica started the hefty supply of crack; I was left to ponder how to craft her to the Greater Purpose of the Supreme, Librarian of the Universe. Fines were coming due.

Hypnosis is generally not done whilst the patient is in some form of drugged state. This practice is usually associated with evil scientists of the stripe of Fu Manchu or Doctor No. The patient has few or no defenses. The subconscious is an open banquet, a blank manuscript upon which the hypnotist can write what they want, even to the point of swapping in a different personality. But my hands were tied (figuratively; I leave those sorts of details for my evenings with Sonjia deSade), I was forced by my high moral code (The Telemarketers Code of Ethics) to help Jessica, but she was baked on crack; her subconscious mind putty for my imagination. What would Fenris Badwulf do? What did Fenris Badwulf do?

Jessica needed self esteem, empowerment, a weapon to use against the forces arrayed against her. Her lifelong subsistence upon the leftist social welfare system had failed. She needed the power of the Emerald Eyed One, Set, the Snake God in her life. I let her tell me what she needed: a lighter that worked; some water to clear her cough from the crack smoke; someone to pay her cell phone bill. I nodded; and as Jessica phased in and out of consciousness, I took the opportunity to plant helpful suggestions in her sub consciousness. I care.

I hate people who hate. I have noticed that everyone that is worthy of hating, says bad things about me. Have you noticed that about you? Bad people are critical of you? Now Jessica shares, at a subconscious level, at the reptilian level, a burning hatred of people who hate Fenris. (I just chose that trigger word arbitrarily; I would never use my own name as a trigger for psychotic rage, heck no). A healthy person flys into a psychotic rage when they are criticized, but not Jessica, so lacking in self esteem. Her battery of rage was (is) topped up, and needs draining. Since she will not defend herself, she can defend others. What is more noble than that? And if one of her clients is a vile person, destined to live on the Winners Circle of life, who utters curses and lies about, oh, say Fenris, Jessica will soon, instantly, change into Jack the Ripper, and implement social engineering, Set, the Snake God style. Such is the good works done by the Missionaries of Set, the Snake God.

It was good to see Jessica smile on her birthday. The socialist social services sector had failed her, but I had not. I had put her on a path to renewal. A sacrifice was called for. We went out on her balcony and I pointed out the new moon, and taught her how to feel its warmth. We parted not long after. Jessica had a client to hustle, and I had to return to my house and offer incense up to the family gods of Badwulf. As a last gift, I gave Jessica a book; a simple book of astrology of the sort that girls like to read. As Jessica delighted in her good fortune I left her another gift. Something every girl needs. I waited until Jessica was distracted by hypnotic suggestion and communicated this gift to the new, latent personality that lives in Jessica's reptilian complex. Something every girl needs. A short, curved knife; made of the same steel they make straight razors with. Hidden, but a talisman of safety. Anybody messes with Jessica, they mess with the fangs of Set, the Snake God. Could be anyone. Anyone who presses the wrong switch of social justice. Anyone who patronizes crack whores, tends to break their noses, and mutters darkness about Fenris, say (I just chose that name at random; could be anyone, eh what?). Then that person will find themselves watching their intestines being used to decorate the Holiday tree.

The Missionaries of Set, the Snake God do good work, as I have exampled above. You want to help them. You care.

Send me your money.

Waiting for Santa

You meet lots of good people when you go to the rituals of Set, the Snake God. Even if they are wearing masks, the room dark, and the air is thick with the scent of incense, you get an accurate idea of character. Afterwards, at the orgy, at the food tables, or just in the meeting rooms where interest rates are set, you just say to yourself, I like these people.

My good friend, Maximinus Thrax, wants to do something about crime. Sure he pays his taxes, on his income, on goods and services, and on fees, registrations, and tolls. He pays and pays. And crime, it is still worse and worser. There is urine sloshing around on public transit, gum stuck in the banking machine slot, and after dark the darkies come to slash his tires, carve his paint, and put broken glass under his tires. The Red Star crows about how crime is down, racism is up, and how we need to pay more taxes, more taxes more often. Max has decided to do the job his taxes pay for, but the socialists cannot seem to provide against their loyal voters. Maximinus Thrax is a community activist of Set, the Snake God.

We had a good laugh in the Constrictor room of the Etobicoke sanctuary of the chapter of Set, the Snake God when Max described his plans. Like all good citizens in a state that does not have free speech, we only talk to people we trust. We plan, we prepare, we act in darkness. It works: the ability challenged activists are just that: dumb as frozen dog turd. Our crime fighting campaign has been thriving for the last lunar year, and none of the illiterates of the left have clued in. And, our little plan is making money, thanks to the Pentagram Strategy *. Which is to say, we sell the organs of those criminals that come into our clutches, and the profits from those sales serves to offset the taxes for services not delivered, and provides the service not delivered. Everyone has a smile on their face, even the pimp whose head is preserved in a jar of formaldehyde.

Maximinus Thrax has spent the last year telling all his progressive co-workers about his coin collection, vacation plans, and weepy concerns about Global Warming. He puts the boxes his expensive computer, expensive stereo, and expensive flat screen came in out in the trash. At his place of work, he is a white guilty male, sufficiently so that the office queers make passes at him at his desk, fondle his shoes in the shitter, and otherwise sexually harass him in a way that is acceptable to the two tiered justice system. He smiles his best shit eating grin when the office chatter turns to directing hatred towards Christians, white people, Canadian culture, or people with jobs. He scowls when the anecdotes about the latest racist incident, circa 1992, comes up once a month, regular as an unserviced feminists period. Those bad people: they should pay taxes for more brochures, more rules, and more rules about brochures! Yes, Maximinus Thrax is a viper in the bosom of political correctness: which is as it should be, given his politically correct belief in the non Christian cult of Set, the Snake God.

Maximinus Thrax has prepared a house to enact his beliefs about social change. He has a ceiling mounted bear trap mounted in a drop down arrangement above his front door. This is not the house he lives in; he just tells all his progressive co-workers that. This house has a basement dungeon, furnished with the latest sado-masochist equipment from the queer sado-masochist suppliers in Toronto. It is wired with cameras, and all the lights and receptacles can be controlled from his control room, built below the basement, just like the religion of peace peoples do in town. This Christmas, er, Holiday, after he put out the garbage, he drove his car to another location, stopped his Red Star subscription, went to his real residence, changed into his black combats, and stealthily re-entered the house, and retired to the control room. Who would be the first burglar?

I joined Maximinus Thrax in the control room for a weekend of social engineering. It takes the Observe and Respect * * * constabulary somewhere between two hours and never to respond to a home invasion. Plenty of time for the wife and kids to be butchered by some member of the leftist voting victims of colonialism in Africa. Assuming of course that a call is made. And in the event the burglar wants to make a call, having bumped his toe, or tripped in the shower, I suspect the constabulary would be there much quicker to protect the human rights of the victimized left wing voter. Maximinus Thrax has thought of that, and has made his house safe for criminals, so they will never, ever have to call for help, even as they are about their business of helping themselves to his property. Maximinus Thrax cares.

We sat at the monitors and sipped coffee. Jamaican coffee is about as close to Cuba as Maximinus Thrax gets. Everyone at his work, every no talent hire, every fairy cake eater, every your taxes and useless spender enthusiast knows that Max is off to Cuba for Holiday; they are ability challenged, yes? The real Maximinus Thrax is in his dark basement, behind the secret door, behind the secret door in the room of the freezers, watching his monitoring equipment, thinking about the schedule of payments from reputable human organ broker organization, thinking about taxes paid and services undelivered, thinking about having un Christian fun.

There is no need for details, is there? Christmas, er, Holiday, is the best time for break and enter crimes. Did you not get the brochure from the police station when you were in there to report your car getting keyed? They never come when you are the victim, only when the victim class is in danger of being oppressed by you, the racist. Sure as racism follows immigration, a stealthy figure appeared, seeking entry into the home of Maximinus Thrax, seeking out the coin collection, the expensive computer, the expensive flat screen, the expensive stereo. We saw him on the cameras, and he came alone. After that, well, is best left to your imagination. In a country without freedom of speech, I have to be careful who I am honest with. As long as my actions are in darkness, unseen (and my ears protected with ear plugs against the long screams), everything is white guilty goodness. Hmmm Hmmm Hmmm.

Maximinus Thrax, he cares; he works for social justice.

The Magi and your future in the stars

The Magi were astrologers who used their knowledge of the movements (and resultant effects) of the stars to predict the future. A delegation was sent to the future King of Israel, much to the disgust of King Herod. You and I are not playing power politics like the Lord of Hosts and the House of Herod. But we can appreciate a look at the year ahead. Bringing a gift to the winning faction is always a good idea.

Peace and Good Will to Men. Peace should last until October, 2012, when Saturn transits into Scorpio, forming a mutual reception with Pluto. War would certainly help Obama get re-elected, given that the illegal immigrant vote is going to go into districts that are already heavy with illegal immigrants, an appeal to patriotism is just what the secret chiefs of the Bolsheviks think will get them the votes they need. October 6, 2012 is the date; Mars is in Scorpio at that time too. December 28, 2012, Saturn and Pluto form a sextile; being in mutual reception something should happen rather good for those Capricorns who work in darkness and Scorpios who profit from agencies of death.

Peace and Good Will to anybody who is acceptable to political correctness. I should qualify myself, 'Men' is a bad term. Speaking of oppression, Neptune transits into Pisces on February 4, 2012. There were earthquakes, or was it a tsunami last time? In keeping with the principle of ability challenges ('dumb is smart', 'tax the worker', and 'four years of hard winter proves Global Warming'), I have lost my notes. Regardless, Neptune, known as The Earthshaker to the ancient Greeks, gets back to running the planet at that time. Pisces is the sign of Christianity, and the ruling Neptune has his trident aimed at those that persecute the Church (which is kind of funny, as real Christians, at least since the suppression of the astrologers in the wake of the reformation, should not believe such things), and if you look at the natural disasters that have been happening under his influence, you can see they are aimed right at the beating black heart of the activists. Mars is in Virgo at this time, so some disease based disaster can be added to Neptune's bag of tricks (Virgo rules disease, yes). Also, with the last of the big three generational planets finally changed sign, things will be set for the next, oh, fifteen years.

The other side of Saturn. Before Saturn gets into the war business of Scorpio, he will finish up his business of relationships in Libra. Exalted in Libra, Saturn is keeping war at bay, but you may feel his sting in your personal relationships. Perhaps that feeling of having your ego crushed, inadequacies paraded in front of your nose, and deficiencies made apparent. This ends in October, so you have a bit more skin scraping to endure till then.

Jupiter and expansion. Transiting productive Taurus until June, Jupiter promises a certain amount of material prosperity. Search for it on an individual level, not in the economy. In June, Jupiter transits into Gemini, where he is in fall. Pencil whipping is what the gamblers call it: expect petty treachery, double charging, and new taxes from the lying lips of the progressives.

Good enough. You want the details, email me with money.

I, Sargon the Magnificent, wrote this

Pagan dispensation holiday

Keep Christ in Christmas, the white right wing extremists say. They are something bad, these people that the Human Rights commissions single out for persecution. The last few years, Christmas has been on the shit list of the left. The ability challenged activists have taken a dislike to it. You can speculate on their real reasons; the excuse is that some sect of leftist voters, tax spenders, is offended. If Christ and his pal, the Lord of Hosts, get offended, they can go crucify themselves. So, good, obedient little tax payers we are, we say Holiday instead of Christmas, and we scurry like the cowed peasants we are as we go about our working class lives, seeking the approval of the stupid, the degenerate, the corrupt; neatly summed up as the cabal of the white marxist traitors. Christmas is bad; Holiday is good.

Personal Horoscope for WS

The initial first impression you make upon people is not necessarily accurate. It may be quite some time for this error in perception to be made right. People are more likely to project onto you their wishes and errors of logic, for they assume you are soft and squishy. You are not.

You have a brilliant and ordered mind, well suited for work with logical systems of a physical or verbal nature. Communication will play a key role in your profession. Even more so, you will rise to a position of influence over people based upon what you direct your concentration upon. You will act as an intermediary between the great ideas of the age and the vulgar plebs who need to have these ideas explained to them. You will be of great influence on the truly powerful, who will come to value your judgement and insight.

You have an intense nature which is embarrassed by itself. You are caught up in an internal conflict between the tranquility of equilibrium, and the dissonance of getting there. You will be constantly confronted with the necessity of pushing others towards tranquility, and in the pushing this will disturb your tranquility. None the less, those in need of transformation will be attracted to you; whereas those who are in a state of equilibrium will tend to drift away.

You will come to have great power over large numbers of people. The secret implications of the rule of law will be your province; you can perceive the effects of shared beliefs especially towards self-undoing or raising up of the human soul. You will be the one who stands outside the ordered structure and performs works the paradoxes before the machine of process is started. The structures you design will survive for the length of the Aquarian age, which has some two thousand more years to go. Before you come into your glory, you will practice the law givers art upon lesser mortals, in smaller numbers. There will be a pattern of similarity, from smaller systems to larger, as you grow older in age and greater in wisdom.

Your friends will provide comfort for you; some will become your open rivals. Through your friends will come gifts and pleasures which are toxic. As you are a person seeking transformation, you could quite well be caught up traveling down to the underworld with some lost soul just to be considered a good companion. Some of your friends will become open enemies, and a few will make noises about being your secret rival. Your secret enemies will be in the open, for all their yammer. This is a blessing.

Your inheritance from your family will be delayed or denied. You have inherited something from your family which you do not want, which you abhor. The extent and implications of this dark inheritance you will keep secret, and in any case few others will understand the scope or nature of this 'family curse that comes with the family estates in Transylvania'. You will overcome this burden, but it will be easiest after you father passes away. One lingering effect of this is that you will either doubt your creative skills, or denigrate them as a way of punishing someone out of your past.

You have an advantage in that you can take the omens in your everyday life. The common people you rub shoulders on you daily travels are representative of The People. You can hear the vox populi, vox dei. You can take the omens from everyday occurrences. This is a rare gift.

In business dealings you have higher standards than the pirates and cut throats you will mix with. The villains who seek to take advantage of you find their undoing when they cross pens with you; which unfortunately means that the universe uses you as a way to thin out the numbers of telemarketers and bandits. On the other hand, you will be popular with your co-workers and will receive some real blessings from them.


Transits

A metamorphosis of your values. Major changes to occur in your financial situation. If you have nothing now, you will end up having something.

Your sense of pleasure and enjoyment is heightened. Any love relationship will have an amazing intensity. Creative or artistic abilities will be increased in depth and tempo. Your work will have a profound effect upon others.

Climax on 5 March 2012, change of direction on 11 April 2012, and another climax on 18 May 2012. Transit should be in effect starting 27 January 2012 through 2 July 2012. Starts again on 30 November 2012, climax on 29 December 2012, ends 27 January 2013. Third pass starts on 5 July 2013, climax on 21 August 2013, change of direction on 21 September 2013, another climax on 20 October 2013, and fades after 1 December 2013.

While this is going on, another, more profound transit will occur, but this will fade in as the other fades out.

A test of your strength and energy with which you have attached yourself to the world.

You will be forced into action, and force others into action. External events will challenge you; and you will act as a focal point for transformation of the collective. You will use ruthless methods, or advocate these methods, in order to overcome forces overstepping their bounds. You will be the voice, the source of ideas and inspiration in the struggle of the many against tyranny. Your ideas will have great influence and effect.

This transit starts around April 2012: you will get a hint of what the future bodes that month, although on 11 April 2012 the storm clouds on the horizon will disperse. This is a warning for you to make preparations. Do not think it gone, for it will return 8 January 2013, climax on 7 February 2013, and end (for the first trial) on 31 March 2013. Subsequently, a change of direction in April 2013, followed by a climax on 22 June 2013, and fade after 2 August 2013. The final transit of this will start on 7 November 2013, climax on 11 December 2013, and finally fade after 9 January 2014. There might be some sort of wreckage to be cleaned up starting 5 August 2014, with a change in direction 23 September 2014, and a final ending after 9 November 2014.

Dates for transits are fading in and fading out are approximate, give or take a few days. Climax dates are specific.

I, Sargon the Magnificent, wrote this.

The Office Farter

It was like walking into a wall. Oxygen was removed from the atmosphere. Suffocation, but without that pleasant sexual feeling. Aaaargh. I had walked into the stench cloud of the office farter. I made a silent prayer to Set, the Snake God: Please, don't make me an Hors d'oeuvre today. I staggered, my eyes watering back out of the room. My exposed facial hair was threatening to singe. E Gads, the cloying reak of colon contents and death scented room freshener stuck to my nose like dog poo on a progressives sandal. I retreated to my office to clear my respiratory system.

Die, main stream media, die

Who reads Macleans magazine anymore? Is it still published? If I want to know what all the leftists are thinking, I will go read Dr.Dawg * . The daily angst about Harper, so effective that it has driven the great blue meanie from minority government to majority; the weekly issue of the month; and the fresh smell of white guilt that you only find elsewhere in one of those condom equipped stalls in a gay bar in Toronto. Dr.Dawg is free to read; Macleans costs money, and is dead. So, I was shocked to see a reference to it * in one of my daily reads, but the news was good. Well, not really. The editorial staff of the Red Star has not been burnt alive at Dundas Square for blasphemy, but there is the crisp smell of burning birch and cedar in the air.

The Snows of Madness, Kyoto edition

You may be filled with glee at the sinking of the Kyoto treaty, but for our politically correct betters, it is as if the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse have been saddled up, their horses filled with oats, and fresh sabres, sharpened, issued. You can carve up the ranks of the activists into sub species: the cynical parasites whose purses and man bags are stuffed with laundered green government money; the ruthless ladder climbers whose forked tongues are wrapped around the throbbing shaft of white guilt to the end of career advancement; and the deluded slurpers of white guilt who actually believe the sticky stuff they are gurgling down is as good for them as the moaning fellow giving it to them says.

Jedburgh raid Jedburgh dead

My father, a veteran of the Second World War, told me about the Jedburghs. It was a day much like today, but I was outside, and we were cleaning the barn. My Dad always listened to classical music, much like the stuff played by the wartime BBC. Certain tunes would bring back memories for the old man, and on that day, a Sunday in the overcast fall in Ontario, he talked about times past, set in the last Great War. My Dad was not a Jed, but did give them some training in Shanghai police methods in those months before June 6, 1944. Until the internet came along, there was not much information out there about them * .

Stop Harper

There is no question within the ranks of the ability challenged activists that the outrage that is, uh, that hard done by redskin settlement up there somewhere around James Bay, is hard done by. Those evil Harperites. Big meanies. And then again, the ability challenged activists do not mix with the common folk, those plumbers, carpenters, electricians, and dry wall professionals. You know, the working class. Harper hears their whispers.

Harper is setting the lefties up for a fall.