The second stage, Zweitracht, begins with the appearance of a ruling or governing class. This is the
Antithesis of chaos, of course, and leads directly into discord when the servile class discovers that its
interests are not the same as the interests of the ruling class. This correlates with Osiris, Jehovah, and
all masculine deities; with the symbol of the All-Seeing Eye; with hexagram 1 in the I Ching: Ch'ien,
the creative, the heavenly, the strong, the powerful; with the male principle, yang, in general; with
the number 3, symbolizing the all-male Christian trinity; with the 12th trump of the Tarot, the
Hanged Man, symbolizing sacrifice, schism and schizophrenia; and with the planet or symbol of
Mars, . Naturally, a Zweitracht period is always replete with "internal contradictions," and
somebody like Karl Marx always arises to point them out. On the Zodiac: Pisces.
In this discordant period, the Hodge and the Podge are in conflict, because a ruling class emerges
which attempts to control the others. This correlates with hexagram 1, , Ch'ien, the allpowerful,
in the I Ching. The six unbroken lines represent the severity and monotony of such a
period, which is, above all, the age of the T-square, the building of fences, the division of lands by
"boundaries" drawn on maps, and the imposition of one man's (or one group's) will upon all others.
Typically, the earth is regarded as both flat and finite by the Zweitracht mentality, and there is much
concern with dividing it up into portions (among themselves, of course). The "superstitious" terror of
American Indians when first confronting maps was merely the reaction of a Verwirrung mentality to
a Zweitracht mentality: The Indians could not conceive of people treating earth as a thing to be
exploited rather than a mother to be respected.
Zweitracht associates with 3 numerologically because 3 is the totally male number, because all-male
Trinities (Brahma-Vishnu-Siva, Father-Son-Spirit, etc.) are invented in such ages, and because the
discord always has a minimum of 3 vectors, not merely 2. That is, the division into a propertied
ruling class and an unpropertied governed class immediately sets in motion further cupidity; the
ruling class soon falls to fighting over the spoils. Contrary to Marx, most of the strife in Zweitracht
ages is not the conflict between proprietors and proles but between various proprietors over who gets
the biggest share of the pie.
The governing Tarot card is trump 12, the Hanged Man. The cross on which he hangs is blossoming,
to show that it is still organic and alive (the biogram); he hangs upside down, to show the reversal of
nature. He represents both the burden of omniscience in the owning-governing class and the burden
of nescience in the servile-submissive class: the total crucifixion of desire by Realprinzip and
Realpolitik.
The astrological sign of this period is Pisces, the two fish swimming in opposite directions indicating
the conflict of logogram and biogram ("body" and "spirit," astrologers say.) Typical Pisceans who
have shown the Zweitracht personality are E. H. Harriman, the railroad magnate (who covered the
United States with Ch'ien-style unbroken straight lines), Cardinal John Henry Newman, Sir Robert
Baden-Powell, founder of the Boy Scouts (an attempt to instill Piscean authoritarianism even in
childhood), Admiral Chester Nimitz, John Foster Dulles, Anna Lee (founder of the world's most
antisexual religion, the Shakers), industrialists like Kruger and Pullman, financiers like Cambell and
Braden, Grover Cleveland, John C. Calhoun, Neville Chamberlain, Andrew Jackson (whose
expulsion of the Cherokee Nation from its traditional lands onto the "trail of tears," where most of
them perished, is the archetypal Zweitracht land-grab), William Jennings Bryan, and Frank Stanton
of CBS.
Since all Illuminati with any academic leanings at all are encouraged to major in history,
the tendency in most textbooks is not only to black out Verwirrung periods but to glorify Zweitracht
periods as ages of Light and Progress. Indeed, they make entertaining reading: They .are ages of
expansion, and there are always new people being discovered to be subjugated, "civilized," and
converted to tax-payers and rent-payers.
Almost any age described in glowing and admiring language in a history text will prove, on examination,
to be a Zweitracht era, and the foremost butchers and invaders are treated as the outstanding heroes of humanity.
A sympathetic reading of the biographies of these empire-builders almost always indicates
that they were homo neophile individuals who turned their talents to destruction rather than creativity
because of bitterness engendered by years of torment and baiting by homo neo-phobe types during their childhoods.
The ever-present conflict in a Zweitracht period eventually leads to the third stage.
A tabletop, a room of some kind, a man and several other people standing behind him. The details are blurred, for the moment unimportant. On the tabletop is a computer, a square clear box with flashing lights in it the designers felt would make it look like it was doing something when you turned it on. Maybe that was to hide the most sinister aspect of the device which was that one could not turn it off. Even with the voice interface disabled and the lightshow terminated, its circuits kept working. Never sleeping was one of many potentially disturbing facets to the device's essential nature, the other most noticeable one, after spending some time talking to it, was it's short patience, irritability and human-like arrogance. It's creator felt that it would be interesting to imbue the device with a personality and in self perpetuating logic, gave it his own personality.
"I cannot describe the computer system in detail as it is protected."
The man's voice: "You? You cannot break the security for this machine. There was me thinking you were unbeatable."
In irritated tones: "It is not a matter of defeating a protection schema, all information that unit possess has been ofuscated by unfamilair precepts"
Someone in the background asked the obvious question. "What does he mean?"
"It means it doesn't know what the target computer is talking about even if it gives you a straight answer to a question."
"In part, correct. I cannot get real information out of the target if it contains information formatted in terms I do not understand. I am interrigating it's databanks to correlate and cross reference as much information as possible. Now kindly do not disturb me until I am finished."
That was the other thing, the third most disturbing thing about the square semi-transparent box on the table with flashing lights: it could read computers like telepaths of legend could read minds. The ultimate hacking tool, able to go anywhere, infiltrate any computer system at any distance. It was a weapon governments would make you rich for, or kill for, or perish for. It had cost its inventor and a string of others their lives which was considerably more than many of them had expected to loose, for governments are good at seeing that little bit ahead of genius, or even common greed. The irony of 'owning' the recalcitrant device was at once having limitless information and being wanted and hunted and frequently shot at.
Several minutes later. "Information," volunteered the box simply.
"Well, have you found a common reference point we can all understand?" said the man, his face still blurred buy the author not willing to give concrete descriptions.
"Numerous, though it appears to be a futile effort."
"The target is a hoax?"
"Not at all. The problem is that of obscurity creating volume. One can generate an infinite amount of data which cumulatively has no meaning. Through cross-reference, much of the data I have collected is self-contradictory."
"The target is supposed to be his most trusted friend, are you telling me it's full of rubbish?"
"Again, no. Not 'rubbish' per say. Merely data too absctract to be used at present. Consider this database entry: "philosophy is traditionally concerned with contrasting one grid with another grid, and amending grids in hopes of finding a perfect one that will account for all reality and will, hence, (say the unenlightened) be True. This is illusory; it is what we Erisians call the ANERISTIC ILLUSION. Some grids can be more useful than others, some more beautiful than others, some more pleasant than others, etc., but none can be more True than any other." This would mean no description of reality would be accurate."
"So? A philosophical game. A bagatelle. Why are you making such an issue of the finer inellectual points of logic?"
"Dis! Any more intel on how the prototpye of the "First Universal Cybernetic-Kinetic Ultra-Micro Programmer" got stolen right from under our bloody noses?"
*Neg, Mal. We're not even completely sure who the "lightfingers" were, but we're guessing it may have been commissioned by those four old "buddies" of your ancestor Hagbard. Wonder what the A.I.S.B. calls themselves this time around? I still call em scheisskopfs!*
"Machts nicht, Dis. I have good news and bad news. The replacement F.U.C.K.U.P. unit has been installed aboard the new flagship, and is operating perfectly. I just got off the horn with Episky Sylvia, and here's the bad news: She ran the numbers, twice, and the box computes a .87 probability of an Eschaton event within the next three months!"
*Holy Mother of Chaos, Mal! That doesn't give us much time atall, atall!*
"Five tons of Flax, Dis. Sylvia has issued new orders, priority Aleph. Run diagnostic on all the old transponders. I know a lot of then have been "taken out", or need repair. Re-active the Net. And then put out the call. Hiding under a rock is no longer an option. It's time to 'be the rock'!"
*Gonna take more than Laughing Goddess Pies and flyin' nekkid this time, Malsy. But Sylvie's the boss. I'm on it. We'll get it tweaked and re-secured before you can say Rub-a-dub-dub! Dis out.*
"Four worms and a grub, my friend. We ride again! Mal out."
"Dis, Beau, I'm still concerned about the mysterious theft of the first F.U.C.K.U.P. computer. I'm worried that we may be compromised. Has the replacement scanned FnordNet for any recent probes of our secure channels?"
"Sylvia had me run analyses just before she ran off in the shuttle to parts unknown, Mal. The system reports us secure and pristine to .9987 probability. Merci detects no glitches."
*Nor do I, O Great Worry Wart!* added Dis. *Surfin's smooth as glass for me. And Unit 2 is completely standalone from the Net, so no worries of contamination there.*
"I know, Dis, but I still feel we need another level of security on top of FnordNet. We need a "codetalker", and I know just the person! Get a ping out to Miss Yu aboard the [~V~]China_Export.Inc. She is the only person in all of Sirius who knows the ancient Lung Dragon tongue from Terran China. Not even the Wu clan will have a clue what she's saying. The Lung Dragons developed the dialect especially to protect the secrets of their magickal powers, which were passed to them by the followers of Lilith Velkor in Atlantis.
"Get Miss Yu aboard the Leif immediately, and set her down with F.U.C.K.U.P. for a language lesson. Dis, I want you and Merci to sit in too. Once we have a translation algorithm developed I want it carried BY HAND to every ELF and TAZ vessel in the Sector. That should keep an impenetrable lid on FnordNet!"
*Understood Mal, but you're sounding awfully like a "Boss" again with this one. Shouldn't we run it past Sylvia first?*
"Do we have a Sylvia handy to run it by? She can override me if and when she chooses. There is also still an indeterminacy as to whether Sylvia actually wants the Episkopos ring. She has my complete confidence and support; but for some reason she seems reluctant to actually take the reins.. We may have to make other plans. So, I'm authorizing this until I'm countermanded, or castrated for it. Schnell! Mal out."
You are insane, Malaclypse! I forbid it! I will kill you with my bare hands before I will allow this!
You could kill me this instant, my old friend, and it may still have to be. Even the new Episkopos has seen the inevitability of it. And she is Fionas daughter, her own flesh and blood. said Mal, as he responded to Reggies impassioned outburst with a calm, firm gaze and level voice.
We do not know with certainty how long we have, Reggie. The Four may feel threatened, and release our Ancient Foe at any time! You know how long our preferred method of summoning our Goddess can take! And especially in this case. You of all people should realize how headstrong and willful our dear deLuna is! You yourself know that she has only dabbled with learning the Mysteries! How long would it take to Raise the Serpent? To complete the Initiation? Tell me, if you can!
Reggie appeared broken and defeated. He buried his weathered face in his hands, and an audible heart-rending sob escaped his lips. After a few moments, he looked beseechingly at Malaclypse. But she is all I care about! I would rather see the Old One loosed again, consuming the Souls of these Sirian cabbages than to see this happen!
If we do this, we are no better than they are, Mal! Do we give up the True Path, the Right Hand Path, for the expediency of the moment? Do we become as the ancient Aztecs? As the followers of Gruad at the last moments of great Atlantis? Do we summon the Forces through the Altar and the Dagger? Even if we brought Eris forth in this way to defeat the Lloigor, is it really the lasting victory we seek, or merely the loss of our own Souls? We are damned either way!
Mal reached across and touched his friends shoulder gently. Reggie, Reggie. You may be absolutely right, my old friend. If we have lost the ability to raise the White Light as before, then our Goddess may be lost to us forever; and we may have lost the battle before it has begun.
But there are no other candidates. Jessica is partly a construct, and an unknown factor. Mama Dis has all the knowledge, and is a true believer; but even with her sentience, does she have the human Spark which can be raised? Sylvia must fulfill her role as my fellow leader of the ELF. I know this in my heart. Our newest recruit, Miss Yu, has the blood of the ancient Lung Dragons in her veins, and has remarkable latent abilities; but is no closer to the Mysteries than Fiona. I am afraid we have no other choice, my old friend.
Reggies gaze went back to the shaking mountain. He began to speak, but nothing came. He merely turned and looked hopelessly at Malaclypse. Mals heart broke as well.
Reggie, I promise you this. We will give the Initiation every chance. We may succeed. Fiona may indeed be able to raise the Serpent, and to summon Eris as our Champion once again. I agree that this is the only way to truly win our battle with the Old Foe.
But, if time runs out, if the Four other Primi ignore my counsel and decide to release Iok Sotot; then I will have no choice. Sylvia agrees. The Chao must remain in balance, and your beloved Fiona will have to die.
((Dear readers: A point of clarification. The impending threat from the Old One and the current leaders of the resurrected Illuminati in Sirius is a completely different matter than the impending threat from the many incarnations of Artificer. It may develop concurrently with the events at the Uli Rouge. It may take a bit longer to identify the four Epopts of the Illuminati, and to locate their voracious soul-eating minion Iok Sotot. Different muddles for different models. Stay tuned.))
So, Egrezy my love. What have you gained from all this carnage; other than the knowledge that even a metadeity cannot control humans and events all the time?
Eris, baby, Ive learned that insanity is still a big part of the equation. I suppose I will work on that particular aspect of my pantheon.. my big four.
Oh, you can work on it til youre blue in the face, Egrezy. You may think that frying a few primate brains will help you in Your grand scheme; but I guarantee you that these primates can be just as nutty and unpredictable without your supposed help. Why do you think the My followers have proliferated so? I respect and honor their quirkiness.. Their emotional tantrums and quandaries. But, I do not attempt to make them any more or any less insane than they already are.
That is your choice, Milady. You have no clue as to my purposes here. You would be wise to stand aside and let events transpire as they will.
Oh, I intend to do just that, EgrezyHais. These primates require no help from me to defeat you. You will only have such power over them as they grant you. It is true that I require worshippers, and belief in Me, to have an existence. That is the Free Will granted to humanity even before you and I came on the scene and muddied things up on Atlantis and Mu. Nothing has changed.
Your powers may have been somewhat modified and strengthened my your medllings with the Void; but you will find that the human spirit will still prevail. And, your little friend Cthulhu is no threat either. The five Illuminati Primi have him bottled up nicely. And, theyve been negotiating for an even more secure home for him, and any others of his Evil Ilk that might appear.
Time heals all things, my Apple. Of course, it cannot heal our infraction. Not after you betrayed me. No, there cannot be any way of us reuniting. Hell, last time we did what happened? Earth. No, we dont belong together. Were too alike. But at the same time, we are opposites. Quite a quantum conundrum, isnt it?
Hais, you will never accept that it was perhaps your fault for our divorce, will you? Just let it drop! That was the past. Stop dwelling on it! There are mortals now to enjoy. We cant really look at them and make parallels with our lives. We are gods, or a god and a metadeity, at any rate. The thing is, Doc, we dont have total control on our plane. Just on theirs.
There is no our plane, Eris. I have ascended. How else could I avoid the bureaucracy! The ancient Terrans and their need to summon the Court if you hadnt chosen to leave!
There was a chance we both would have died. Fear is a common trait, even among the almighty. And hon, when youre immortal, you opt to avoid that which undoubtedly will end in death.
But it didnt. Where we are both immortal, only *I* am invincible. There can be no end to me. The traits that fuel me are necessary to humanity. The Helghast, too, and those Phantoms which I will soon be helping. Can you believe it? Ive decided to aid mortals for information. A good thing, then, that they cannot challenge me.
But I can.
You could have, once. But you dont have the will. And dont flaunt those idiot Illuminati. You seem to forget that CThulu was a foolish creature, the mere embodiment of insanity. One of my horsemen, I believe you said. The cavalry is nothing compared to the general.
Oh my, you two love to talk, dont you! I mean, hell, I only died a week ago and you people havent stopped bickering!
The Doctor and Eris turned around to see Fiona walking forward, her daughter Sylvia nearby. Bicker, bicker, bicker. If youll be so kind as to remember, gods dont have to fight. Just make the lives of us mortals miserable. I know you succeeded in that regard with me.
Eris turned, extending an arm to comfort Fiona, but the Doctor stopped her. A mortal has entered and sees us. Strange. She must be extremely pious, or have some unresolved matter that we must aid her in.
Her pineal is rather large
Stop with the brain-talk, my Apple. Her brain has absolutely nothing to do with the afterlife. Let us speak with the mortal and discover her purpose here. Cosmic order does declare that we must aid her. Well, you must. I will help she interests me. Let us begin.
Eris smiled at the two Spirits who had somehow materialized to interrupt their conversation. She smiled. Then, she chuckled, chortled, and actually .. guffawed!
Haisey buns, you amuse me, as always. I know this one, and the little one too. I think youll find that Fiona wont be shushed quite so easily. As to my aiding her, youll also find that even though she had serious doubts about My existence, she will be more than a match for You if you try trotting out that Knowledge horseman of yours!
With that, Eris conjured a ripe, golden delicious apple from the quantum foam, and tossed it to Sylvia. The young ectoplasmic projection soon had its juices running down her chin.
Fiona, Eris continued, your comment saddens me. Have we Gods fallen so low in humanitys esteem that you believe Our only purpose is to bring you misery?
I speak only for myself and my family, you Witch!, countered Fiona. I tried to choose well and wisely throughout my life, as did my father before me! I attempted to be compassionate and loving towards all those deserving of compassion and love. Misery was my reward. So, either I was totally deluded about those two human traits; or the Gods have taken to doling out misery as their stock-in-trade.
My point is made! crowed EgrezyHais. These mortals choose to damage themselves by believing in constructs that are outmoded and outdated! No wonder I was drawn here. The powers that I control must be used to teach them the error of their ways. Suffering must be seen and accepted as the natural condition and outcome of their pathetic existences.
The Goddess Eris looked scathingly at her ex-husband. She then turned again to the two Spirits. Fiona, you must understand, my child. Not all is Love and Bliss in Heaven, either. We as Gods are also bound by the spinning of the Sacred Chao. We strive to maintain the same balance on our plane of existence as you humans do on yours.
Sometimes We are successful. And sometimes, the sins of pride and hubris affect Us as well. And, sometimes jealousy insinuates itself. Meta-god Hais here can say what He will, but his jealousy long ago seems to have infected Him with a bit of his own self-proclaimed powers. He has succumbed to His need for power and control over Our creations to the point of insanity. His jealousy and insanity has now reached the point where He actively opposes the evolution of your species into the god-like beings you are, and have always been, capable of becoming.
I weary of your defense of these domesticated primates, as you call them, my Apple. Even though your Illuminati have preserved and kept safe the secrets of Ascension, and your Discordians attempt to disseminate the secrets here in Sirius; I see few if any humans who have the power or will to seek and achieve it. The day of the Ascended Being is over!
Sylvia calmly finished her apple, looked at the core, and with deadly accuracy cast it with a sidearm throw right into the forehead of the Doctor, who stood speechless in amazement at her effrontery.
Howd ya like THAT apple, bud? Mom, we should write both these losers off, and go flit about till we find some happier companions. Unless you want to stay and inform them whose cabbages ate the Chaos. Teehee!
With a twist of his ethereal arm, Hais motions towards Sylvia. A sudden crack, and she had vanished. Eris looked at the swirling nether that was the spirit of Evil, and made a look of great incredulity. Why in whatever plane you wish to be in would you do that?
EgrezyHais looked at Eris. She had to be reborn. It was the only fitting solution I could find to that. Sure, I could have damned her for all eternity, like the Christian God would, and I might have. But I want to prove that Fiona is right. And what better way than to take from her the one trueborn that she had? Haha! Sylvia has died in every sense of the word, now. Her memories are gone - she is but, as the Bhagavad Gita calls it, her Atman. And let me tell you, my Apple, bringing her back is impossible. Even we, back in those times, couldnt resurrect a reborn.
Eris cradled her face between her hands. Tears would have been there is she had tear ducts, but since she did not, merely contorted her face. Fiona looked impassively. Hais nether smiled as best it could, and began to laugh. See that, Eris? Fiona no longer cares. Or rather, she knows that caring is in vain, and has smartly begun to smother those emotions. Unlike you, Eris, who cherish emotions. Pah. A waste.
Without emotions, we could never have fallen in love. We couldnt have offered
What we offered doesnt matter. Other gods could raise others, transcend them. We were but one conduit. Or have you grown so vain that you have forgotten that Zeus and Hera, Aphrodite and Hephaestus, Paris and Helen, Odysseus and Penelope. Each pair could unlock humanitys potential. We just managed to do it first.
Fiona cleared her throat. Listen, I know you two are enjoying your little stupid soap opera, but unless you intend to aid me, as the Doctor said you must, let me go wander and find another god to help me out.
Eris smiled sadly at Fiona. Very well, little one, I have no choice but to help. Hais, my once beloved, shall we enjoy the Chao once again? Together?
I will help Fiona, but only because her family intrigues me. I have, of course, promised the deLuna family on. Sylvia has been reborn. And who, I ask, is the mother? Doesnt matter. What matters is that the Atman lives on, and that can spawn similar Atman, drawing from the Brahman. And samsara begins anon. Brilliant.
The god and metadeity looked at the astral projection of Fiona, and waited. Fiona began to speak. Simply put, I need you to protect my grandfather.
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