my city of my dreams: the jackals
A jackal is the advanced version of what subgenii refer to as the pink boy. Jackals are the guardians of mediocrity, the sovereigns of the broken, the regents of petty concerns and fools' errands. Like the Terrible Trivium, jackals seduce the confused soul into a mire of ignorance and worthlessness. Addicts, the abused, the victims of the world (whether professional or amateur)--these are prey for the jackals. They feed on them, whisper dark words into their brains, and send legions of hobgoblins and invisible tormenters to crush the victim's hopes of redemption ever further. This is why trauma and schizophrenia are so closely linked, why eating disorders are fueled by hidden voices--because trauma carves a hole in a person's psyche that reduces the number of defensive spiritual layers between the person's soul and the outside world. Without these layers, these interior mansions of St. Teresa of Avila protecting the human's link to the divine, the jackals that prowl invisibly are granted access to the soul. The jackal takes a tiny Synclavier II terminal out of his immaculate briefcase--for jackals are always finely dressed--and attaches it to an equally-tiny Telex machine. They then select a spool of paper, on which all manner of lies are written, and feed it into the Telex. The Synclavier scans the words on the paper through the Telex machine and expresses it as human speech, using speech samples from the human's memories. The effect is that the human accepts the lies as real words being spoken to them, because they so closely resemble voices they have heard before.
Jackals do this to feed off the divine channel at the epicenter of the human soul. In doing so, the human's ability to commune with God is distorted, and they cannot perceive the order of His creation without hearing the deadly jackal lies. This is why they associate God with the false, the abandoner; because their attempts to speak with Him result only in the reception of cruel lies, lies fed by the jackals. The jackals need to overtake God because they are the G-men of Satan; quiet, calculating beasts living just under the crust that separates the spiritual from the earthly. They place their stethoscopes to the ceiling of the crust, and listen intently to the vibrations that our souls emit. The more layers that protect our soul from their malicious ears, the less likely they will be to detect us. But when they hear one of us with a damaged, or inadequate, number of spiritual layers, they ascend from their subterranean mission control and target that person, so that they can block out the person's connection to the divine, strengthen the reach of darkness, creating a perfect environment for evil beings to reproduce and carry on their blighted mission--that the earth will deny God and look only to what is at hand. Human spiritual vision becomes shortsighted. It is possible that we may need glasses. And who better to supply them than the ones who diminished our sight in the first place?
In order to disguise this wretched process, the jackals have enlisted the aid of the other confused souls, but not the ones who are victims--no, the confused who leech off the material success of their elders, who refuse to study, refuse to listen, blithely consume the pleasures of the earth with entitlement. These are the pink boys mentioned earlier; the one part of the Church of the SubGenius that actually makes sense; the handmaidens of the jackals, ignoring God in exchange for pleasure. They do not shed their layers due to some horrible incident of trauma, but through their own will alone. The jackals use these fools to deny recourse to the victims--altruism cannot be a thing. Only things can be things. Duh! Get with the program! Go shopping, or be seen in places where others will look upon you favourably! Who needs the divine when we have toasters that can cook eggs?
This terrible, tidy process, of brainwashing the blithe and vivisecting the victim, is the goal of the jackals. They feed off the darkness that our luminous souls threaten to dispel.
Keeping the jackals at bay is a simple matter of disguise. If you wear the mask of the jackal, they will be easily fooled. So long as you do not fool yourself into believing you are one while you wear the mask, the jackals will not attempt to bother you. From here, you can continue to nurture your spiritual layers, and protect the conduit to the divine that resides within you.
In my city, the jackals live in the clean, polished subway system. Not visibly, mind you, but they operate the tracks that siphon people through its tunnels, so those people can move onward, faster, away from themselves, away from their souls. The weakening is beginning, and the jackals will feast when one of them becomes completely un-layered, naked to the jackals' cruel devices. I walk down the subway, but I never take the train. I am there to see how my citizens deal with the jackals' schemes. It is how I educate myself.
The jackals are lurking everywhere. Steel your layers. Protect your soul. Deny the wretched, petty, clawing beasts any entry into your luminous core.
Jackals do this to feed off the divine channel at the epicenter of the human soul. In doing so, the human's ability to commune with God is distorted, and they cannot perceive the order of His creation without hearing the deadly jackal lies. This is why they associate God with the false, the abandoner; because their attempts to speak with Him result only in the reception of cruel lies, lies fed by the jackals. The jackals need to overtake God because they are the G-men of Satan; quiet, calculating beasts living just under the crust that separates the spiritual from the earthly. They place their stethoscopes to the ceiling of the crust, and listen intently to the vibrations that our souls emit. The more layers that protect our soul from their malicious ears, the less likely they will be to detect us. But when they hear one of us with a damaged, or inadequate, number of spiritual layers, they ascend from their subterranean mission control and target that person, so that they can block out the person's connection to the divine, strengthen the reach of darkness, creating a perfect environment for evil beings to reproduce and carry on their blighted mission--that the earth will deny God and look only to what is at hand. Human spiritual vision becomes shortsighted. It is possible that we may need glasses. And who better to supply them than the ones who diminished our sight in the first place?
In order to disguise this wretched process, the jackals have enlisted the aid of the other confused souls, but not the ones who are victims--no, the confused who leech off the material success of their elders, who refuse to study, refuse to listen, blithely consume the pleasures of the earth with entitlement. These are the pink boys mentioned earlier; the one part of the Church of the SubGenius that actually makes sense; the handmaidens of the jackals, ignoring God in exchange for pleasure. They do not shed their layers due to some horrible incident of trauma, but through their own will alone. The jackals use these fools to deny recourse to the victims--altruism cannot be a thing. Only things can be things. Duh! Get with the program! Go shopping, or be seen in places where others will look upon you favourably! Who needs the divine when we have toasters that can cook eggs?
This terrible, tidy process, of brainwashing the blithe and vivisecting the victim, is the goal of the jackals. They feed off the darkness that our luminous souls threaten to dispel.
Keeping the jackals at bay is a simple matter of disguise. If you wear the mask of the jackal, they will be easily fooled. So long as you do not fool yourself into believing you are one while you wear the mask, the jackals will not attempt to bother you. From here, you can continue to nurture your spiritual layers, and protect the conduit to the divine that resides within you.
In my city, the jackals live in the clean, polished subway system. Not visibly, mind you, but they operate the tracks that siphon people through its tunnels, so those people can move onward, faster, away from themselves, away from their souls. The weakening is beginning, and the jackals will feast when one of them becomes completely un-layered, naked to the jackals' cruel devices. I walk down the subway, but I never take the train. I am there to see how my citizens deal with the jackals' schemes. It is how I educate myself.
The jackals are lurking everywhere. Steel your layers. Protect your soul. Deny the wretched, petty, clawing beasts any entry into your luminous core.