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Book Of Sodom - The God Of SodBook Of Sodom - The God Of Sodom - excerpt 4
In the deepest agony I resided across the entire Realm Of Sodom, yet there I stood as myself, in my beautiful body, and the Angels stood aside into the Light, and the Angel Of Sodom in His shimmering glowing effulgence, in Her sensual dance, in Its cavorting seductiveness, pointed and showed. Thence went the Angel Of Sodom into the Effulgence, and left me standing alone, ready to face the God Of Sodom.
I shuddered, edging on constant orgasm, orgasm of such depth, intensity, and constant length, how I yearned and Desired – and how my own Power held me steadfast, faithful in the sweetness of this suffering, shuddering at the edge of the deepest orgasm, the entire Cosmos and my Being and my beautiful body shuddering and gasping, with each gasp a million new creations each carrying billions of new Pleasures and the Power to captivate them and be captivated by them. Oh the orgasm bound me yet freed me to see this Light and Bliss
Book Of Sodom - The God Of SodBook Of Sodom - The God Of Sodom - excerpt 3
The Angel held me, gripping me, wrapped in his and her many arms, hands sensually carousing and massaging, tickling and spanking, grabbing and holding, uplifting me – my Desire reverberating throughout my Being, my body, my beautiful body, redolent with Desire. And the Angel took me, took me forth and upward yonder, hither and thither in all directions, into myself and out beyond myself and beyond all space and time and place – my own Will expanding in Power, as my Desire grew in Intensity, expanding my Existence, with the Angel I breathed – holding each breath, baiting it with Desire, such that each exhalation created a thousand billion universes, each full of Pleasure and Desire and Power – all glowing and exploding and expanding with the exhalations – I ventured closer to the Godhead, who remained veiled beyond the Great Lote Tree, as the Divine Atum, the ineffable, who displays Himself and Herself and Itsel
Book Of Sodom - The God Of SodBook Of Sodom - The God Of Sodom - excerpt 2
Beware the God Of Emptiness, the false god that presents itself as Al’lah but is not. This false god is truly the Trinity Satan of Repression, Suppression, Oppression – and bears no fruits, and speaks against the Tree that bears fruits. It sends forth Leviathan to hack at the roots of the Great Lotus – where all Will and Creativity loom and dwell, all Pleasure predicates Power, all Existence resonates in its own Intensity. Did not God come as Lord Krishna, the Divine Personality of the Godhead? And was Krishna not sensual and strong? They ‘forget’ this as they speak empty lies, and lie with the state, Leviathan, and mislead us into the temptation of a false peace – as ‘protection’ and ‘moral improvement’. Do not be enslaved thus – but find your own Will, and assist others the same, as is the Will Of God, The Supreme Absolute, all beginning and ending and being and doing
The Book Of Sodom - The God Of Sodom excerpt 1Excerpt 1 from The Book Of Sodom - The God Of Sodom.
Inauguration of the Will
Behold the Supreme Absolute. The Omniscient, the Omnipresent, the Omnipotent. We are all things, and all things are in Us. We are all the Gods and Goddesses. We come to you in many forms. We are I and I are We. We are who we are and I am who I am. You are us, a part and parcel, a Divine spark of the Will, your freedom is from Us and is Us and your freedom is our Pleasure. Let your Will be our Will – freedom in pleasure and bestowal of the bounties of Pleasure. We gave you Sodom and you ceased to be mindful of our munificence and magnanimity, and you crushed our bounties like the petals of flowers between your fingers – and we burned you in our Fire for your worship of the God Of Emptiness.
Do not curtail the Will of another – or we will burn you! Do not use violence or morality to abnegate the Will of another, for when you do,
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
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