Cry little sister,
There is a reason "Hell hath no fury" is phrased biblically.
You see i, as a lyrical weapons designer, am constantly trying to think of something that sounds ballsier. More powerful than anything you can think of. 80's rap battle style. You play that game long enough and you come to the inevitable conclusion. Wrath of God = Checkmate.
All your guns, battleships, dragons, ninjas, zombies, and alien invasions mean nothing to my Wrath of an angry God.
Any punk bitch can go medieval. I went biblical on his ass. And you know the FUCKED thing here, dude? ALL MY OLD MODELS STILL WORK. That's kinda the point, too. It ain't about what you think God, or Source, or The Ancestors, or The Universe looks like. It ain't about how they need you to dress or eat or behave on Sunday. It's about some common fucking decency in a fear-driven wasteland. It's about living a game where the small guy gets a defensive suitcase nuke. He's able to "call a mod" and end the heavy suffering.
He wants you to find your own way to the version of him you love best.
Fellow creators, the Creator seeks. Not groveling worshippers.
Like a father, throwing his infant child into the air. Scares the happy outta the women. Lotta shit could go wrong. Like what if the father didn't drop the child - the child squirmed away? It's sketchy. Kind of a tense moment for everybody.
But the father wants to give the child the experience. He's waiting for that shared moment of pure joy when the child returns to his chest. And that moment is only attainable if there's a little fear involved.
So, at first, I thought this was all me, and I was a badass. I strategically planned and executed everything up until Cry Little Sister. I heard some swinging dick on the Joint Session talk about predictions in real-time and it got me thinking. The word "prophecy" came to me - as though other people were saying it about my suave, but petty, internet dance. Had me a nice laugh.
Then I said "Ok. What if life were THAT GOOD? I should be able to steal a song from these people's childhood and make it mine. It'd hafta be one that sung so deeply to us that it would be impressive enough to feel like the wrath of God when you saw it in a new context.
First thing that comes to mind is Cry Little Sister. Next thing that comes is "Dude, that's kinda mean. Fucking with peolpe's childhoods. I'll check it out. Nobody knows what that fucking song means, anyway."
When I realized what I was looking at, I laughed so hard. It was a joke! Played by an ArchAngel ON YOU! I had an imagined memory of me laughing with my boys as we were writing it down. I laughed and cried at how beautiful it all was as I rushed to post it.
Click. Posted.
Then thoughts in my head like the voices of brothers in arms. Smoke 'em if ya got 'em. Wouldn't want to be you. Vaya con dios, man. And it dawns on me what I have just done. I'm gonna bathe in some lady fire tonight.
Good chunk of the dudes won't even see what's wrong with it. I didn't at first. The Italians have a notion that you are the instrument of karma. They stole that idea from me. You are part of this universe. It could be your duty to enact its karma. And that might be why we're in this position in the first place. And I think that's true to a large extent.
But in extreme cases and violent times all of us are better off with less blood on our hands. Victory Not Vengence. Victory is ours. Vengence is the Lord's. I get it. Sounds fair to me. As long as we win. That's all I give a shit about. (Not true- I would never steal your psychic energy to work dark on another person. That's dirty pool.)
I looked at Shout before Cry Little Sister. I had rejected it because that "Break Your Heart" shit was NOT the vibe I was going for. Then, after Cry posts and the TRUE education of fifthcolumn begins, I go back and listen to Shout and realize it's like the arms of a loving God. It is militarized soothing. A therapy song for what I just fucking did to anybody who didn't see through the illusion. And a therapy song for me.
Like it was dropped on me from wings of angels before I knew how it fit into the plot.
Saturn demands his torturous lesson for those that would live or die on another man's internet post. Those that would act hastily. Anybody go to candles? I went to sleep. Only thing I was ever qualified to do. Lay down and wake up with "They really, really ought to know" playing in my head.
Get online and see medals had been awarded overnight. Chill and Mooshe, from the Joint show thread on the other site. Straight up heroes. Saw the threat, took steps, pushed the fuck back, baby! Vanguard. Weren't gonna watch a pretty vein just die.
I got medals if you want 'em. They're blue.
Try pissing off the divine feminine on a soul level. I got to feel what it was like to have the only bit of hope you'd seen for a long time, shattered and crushed under the foot of a beast too big for any of us to fight. Shattered hopelessness. Like a fucking horror movie that you feel, man. I'm more sensitive than I've ever been, energetically. That was rough.
There is a reason "Hell hath no fury" is phrased biblically.
(Weapons Design Note: Faith might be the ultimate defensive mind weapon. If you can take the time to build one that empowers you, or enhance the one you already have. It runs passively in the background, enabling you in many ways other than metaphysical protection. It takes a lot of fear out of the game. Faith is far too gay a word to ever make it into any of my wardances. Too airy and feminine. I ain't good enough yet to make a gorgeous word like that sound tough. Now 'zealot,' I can work with... but you scare off all the women.)
(Forum Design Note: I like the Deadwood, NO LAWS ideal Polo enforces here. Suits me right nice. But it ain't necessarily the kind of environment that fosters the Sacred Feminine.)