October RustThe New Moon and the Dark Fire

An article by Von Kotterhausen

Crows, ravens, carrion in the skies...'shit birds'. The most exquisite creatures you'll ever meet.Mystical, mysteries powers embodied.The power of the night's inverse holiness humiliating the new day Emperor in vilifying tones...but only to those who never embodied, identified, understood, empathized;have only been at the opposing ends of the Scorn-spectrum, dishing it out obliviously, and all the while tormenting the adaptations of the ones who took the burdens and became theSpades that are Dark Hearts of the uncomfortable roots when you perceive in the territory.

Crone …

The origin of the word Crone comes from carrion in the French.

Other words associated create a beautiful dark web that is haunting and deserving of respect, admiration, adoration, and is adornment that is one with or should easily rival the other primal forces the woman embodies as either mother/wife/midwife or maiden/virgin/nymph.

Some new – potentially unflattering but at first glance - words I myself didn't know or at least was remembering again on reading; dragon, fury, jezebel, among others, to more surprise 'slattern', and 'vixen'. Slattern and vixen are words one would generally offer up to a nymph with insatiable appetites.

The crone, though. It seems at first to be way out of place. Along with dragon...fishwife?As I kept following branches of associated words, it kept getting more and more cthonic and

malefic. Would you say stereotypical if not sexist? To a true crone, I think their thoughts are less preoccupied with political correctness or being accepted socially as having some rightful place as the runner up for beauty on the inside. In fact, the crone often is the really seductive one..not limited to a certain age group. Doing that very thing has created a misunderstanding. There are crones in their teens, twenties, and the prime of their statuesque days are given to emulation of the 'she-wolf'.

Why can't we let the power that flows forth be the hell cat, calumniator, the spitfire, and even the siren? We need these, too! How can you try to split the divinity from these 'muckrakers' and force them into just mud? See, you don't get the crone if you are trying to mold and direct the crone to some redemptive solar force of happy go lucky grammy in the nursing home who carries on with class. Such a person may have hit their 80's or 90's and rejected or otherwise never really acquired the knowledge and taste of the effects and stances of the actual crone. Also, don't take this and warp it as glorifying the pure bitch as evil being so awesome and we should all just be evil as possible because it's 'so cool'.

I'm not only writing this to go on about crones, old ladies, elder witches to attract a few Halloweentime reads, or how black magick goth chicks are even hotter then raver girls. No; what I am about to go into is the nature of the very real and true crone force, even as it applies and lives in guys and men. So, the power and how it has been, is ever going to be, and can be harnessed in your life for major changes. Change in the form of transformations, inspirations with all the effects and ideas of brilliant innovation, and the arrays of powerful apparatus of the radiant mind of the rebirthing. Those concepts, in league with the cauldron of the most famous sexy crone of all, if you ask me: Cerridwen.

Already an extensively acknowledged and admired force in the core of my work offered here.

Why that word is powerful...carrion.It isn't saying the 'hag' [one word I don't like much] is just dead body waiting to make final stop...

All the mysteries within the realm thereof is of extremely carefully conscientious involvement over the powers of Death, Rebirth, Orgasm even..the one beyond the fathoming of the adorably clumsy maiden trying to master a sensual rhythm in premature sympathies, or the mother who now turns to procreation upon feeling confident in the gist of most copulation acts and intercourse finally breaking clear outside the aim and notion of glorious means to glowing endings smoking a cigarette next to that knight whose armor is between yet shining and losing luster rather quickly.

Orgasm here is the most absolute notion of release we can hint at only till we learn transcending the limits yet caging the former two in the triple moon embodiment. If you do not die in this life at all, with the orgasm power wielded by the Crone, you haven't yet been initiated into a single real mystery other than what the former two provide, the positive enjoyment of the sensual with a few extrasensory benefits, and mostly through vicarious leanings beyond your preservation and gratification to that of sustaining your progeny and seeing the legacy of bloodlines come to a noble shape and sturdy legacy, maybe with honors, of no fault of your own.

So, you can see we have a deep, deep Scorpio resonance as the Crone. Yet, the Greater Water Trinein general in archetypal thrust. Not only, though...being so cthonic, implying dirt, earth, underworld, burial mounds. We find blending 'fishwife', a.k.a. 'Consort of the Pisces' and Vesica Piscis' utmost potent fruition in the most sensitive regions unbound to the flesh and corporeal, the specific intelligence given to Pisces to certain adepts we all know to be calling themselves the qabalists.

So, venturing postmortem, the initiation is harmonic with the time of year indicated, and we are fully in season, with the benefit of the Libra New Moon conjunct with the Libra Soul in pure opposition of the celestial sky and space astrology prime force Uranus in Aries the Initiator, and a key feature most overlook called 'quincunx' of Chiron in Pisces; the Mystic housing the Hierophant [or Shaman].

Interestingly enough, the introduction you just read that opens the gate for the Crone virtues leads us into the subjects of the quincunx, what it is in this take of astrological potent initiation, how to harness it for potent capabilities, upgrades in every dimension of being, and developing keen agile effectiveness in almost unlimited potential areas of your life. Yet, it'll be hard. Not to be cunning only in the vagaries, but mainly hard because you accidentally made it so second nature, thoughtless instinct going through a motion, or thinning to a density of not really requiring the merit of direct intellectual tight functionality. Or, simply enough...you made it too damn easy just because the distractions offered anecessity for an invention that took you out of some very important equations.

The Quincunx, as a general feature of both astrology and your own mental vicissitudes, I like to call the primeval 'no man's land'. It is kind of a wilderness erogenous zone that awaits the questing adventurous mind & heart. It has that horizontal line, with underneath, two paths diagonally splitting downward. It will make you think of two things most likely, an extremely generic hieroglyph of a picnictable, or roots breaking deep into level ground. I like to go with the roots as the preferred motif.

It is great for the entirety of the Crone Nature, and oftentimes oppositions are considered to be cosmic 'chaos' in the solar system, but that's not the case really; it takes so many heavily orchestrated blatant elements to create a perfect storm that are well withing measure and predictability over time, so as not to be chaos. The same mistake happens with squares...squares are much like an end of the magnetin a polarity alignment that repulses or pushes in the force, and oppositions like the North and South of the magnet latching and pulling toward for a storm or other energetic vortex of some variety.

The Quincunx, while not embodying chaos, is the dynamic descent force of greatest synastry challenge of the zodiacal archetypal [or archontic..depending on your response or lack thereof] dome.

Just as the crone is very conscientious of death and seeing the lesser depiction of sensual identity as 'in the corpse' as it stands, much the same with those about to engage and engender a new innovative power in the territory of the Quincunx over themselves in the former scope of vicarious forms like pantheon children we might fade into like a clinging parent with the most successful golden child of thelitter.

Or, if all the trines are like love making/intercourse, and the sextiles are all the cuddling, spooning, talking afterward and all the soul follow through; the squares are like the energetically dynamic inception force seen in the waxing moon, and the oppositions are as the full matronly moon commencing the procreation with her consort, and the quincunx is the crone delving into her libraries, and then going on to write new material based in actual visionary experience in the pandimensional potentiality much of the self-perceived 'waking world' will walk over or around if we possibly can, and leave that whacked out wilderness to the freaks, delirious, those 'on their way out', the 'hags' or – not so much physically – 'ugly' of society, who might even be a model citizen or citizen model in their prime, and just happen to have a taste for the celestial and psychological kink, and a flair for talent in the funerary games.

Now that we have laid this foundation on, things are about to get spicy...crone spicy.

By the way, so many of the adjective words defining or branching from 'crone' were along the lines of uncontrollable, rebellious, detractor, defiler, defamer, slanderer, challenger, maligner, complainer, attacker. Calumniator, enemy, agent, betrayer, revolutionary, informant even! Prosecutor, antagonist, adversary, opponent, and opposition. So, you could easily see why the opposition is associated with chaos or black magick or satanic force [night side] harnessing. I really think based in mylight years dwarfing aeons of experience [and I put it that way in the confidently tried spirit of the Crone Herself], these associations came from the residual effects reflected and received by the apathetic of society who have cut the Hierophant [usual male term of the Crone] out of the modern society of convenience and draining logic and academia beyond the point of fallacy into a death romance of positivity as solution to the vilified death romance projected onto the Crone's healing, teaching, wisdom powers of negative existence. When most hear or read 'negative existence', they think of a brooding gothin a perennial bad mood and hyper-depression, but it – on the deepest core inner meaningful illumination – is none other than post trio-veiled compartmental consciousness; those veils called Being,Light, and Life or the Ain Soph Aur to the ones calling themselves qabalists, that we know of.

It is the immediacy of the absolute liberation of the bardo of existence to the Eastern Adept.The one whose effects we pick at like oblivious carrion morning doves without any crow-like

depth for risk of walking along the quincunx vision questing lines of synastry of the mental and emotional, and the formula states among those who turn initiation into a Monopoly/Yahtzee game, if you are not in trines and sextiles of the sweeter signs, you are losing your points and dangerously close to almighty societal forfeit of your once noble dynasty. The dynasty of the Crone cannot be taken; the seemingly weakest era of Soul, veil at its thinnest, no strong arms can pry away from highest of heavens to lowest of hells.

The quincunx is 'getting low', which brings me now to the next more pragmatic phase that you have made way too easy, so to speak. It involves what you already do, especially this time of year:

incorporate the media and mediums of the arts and dramas of death, trauma and black comedy...

Hemophobia, or fear/fainting at the sight of blood. I was prone to it, yet, it was chronic, as I took adeeper, much more primordially grotesque interest in blood to the point of playing with or having even briefly tasted another person's at a very young age. More often than not, not even so much a fear, but anintense sensitivity to what trauma might befall any other.

What was outside, from my earliest days, I could not separate from what was going on inside, a remarkable quality of a natural born healer, and an angelically imprisoned visitor to outdo status quo ofthe psychopath just to deal with being surrounded by them. I guess in way sick way, that's a hallmark ofevery hero out for real blood in the process of determining the condition for a functioning savior complex.

I lost this capability for a while in the last decade, and only watched horror movies for a time almost exclusively. Yet, under it all, the same compulsive...or convulsive...reaction would twitch or hold sway. I thought it to be weakness of a gentle complexion, and so kept it to myself, being a vulnerable, soft, crippled, affections needy Piscean child. It feels awkward to be vulnerable about now. I don't so much care at all anymore what 'big, bad ass, numb 'n tough' people think. When the affections were barren in my life, along with the rebel instinct, the influence of Hades filled the void. It might seem natural. Then, in my life, I called it Satan; not so keen or concerned on the composite archetype in fact a less potent, comical sum of the various intersecting ancient pagan sources appropriated.

Then, I began the practice of reading and the various divination implements, among which to not study the Western and Vedic astrology is to willfully stay in the dark on certain things, even if you decide of your own volition not to buy into some or all of those certain things.

Natural is what is and was; Scorpio is Pluto/Hades. Moon, Ascendant, and Uranus and more. The most occult intelligentsia, the very throne of the underworld; death, transformation, orgasm...

You have to feel it, or there is no point.

I yet like horror movies again. After beyond so obsessive to completely weaning myself for a stretch of indeterminate space and time travel. I speak of them this way because the art of the graphically violent horror movie is a keen weapon and tool of consciousness, but like any aspect of exploring the tense, crimson glistening threads and sinews of the unknown, can snap you off both the web of Life, yet not in a way that is transcendental, but imprisoned and self imposed because you wanted to portray yourself as something you are not and cannot begin to fathom the rack of its irrelevance and lack of compassion to the student who may not progress nor again taste any flavor, much less evade the paradigms of torture that utilize your taste buds and other pores and fibers of mind beyond your will.

I do not write this as some form of 'preach'; as I'm actually encouraging the use of these tools, not warning against for some moral stance. I really have no “this or that is illegal, immoral, and fattening, socall it evil and keep to your designated scriptural sanity clearance zone”.

A graphically violent kill scene can bring you bliss, if it hits the correct 'inverse erogenous zone', for the sensitives, hyper sensitives, empaths, and brave gentle giants, and yeah...not yet self aware psychopaths...I say that endearingly as all beyond the compartmental conscious have about equal human psychopath vernaculars, just vary according to how we deal. Yet, the way I bring it up does not imply getting off on the detailed shapes and sounds until your pulse no longer elevates at all, it implies again transcendence, and a sort of energetic 'jolt' that whittles away at the cage complex of the former identity of a personage. In them, you die, and in essence set otherwise trapped souls free in you. All this has to do with hybridization programs of those other more dimensionally endowed entities by any name. At either extreme, one could be Ancestor, another more accusatory or derogatory mud-sling is Watchers...the “Mighty Ones of Old Renown”.

These who, we die into them, and they transform into us, and ever the indistinguishable bardo, where the shamanic and sorcery prone do always tarry and toil. We investigate by high fantasy, most often of sterile labs resembling some CDC experimental facility, and in fact most of these scenes are 'trickle down' sensory recapitulations of what otherwise has no logos characteristics to retain in a basin of awkward wetware. Yet, this is a majestic and terrifying prison, and one will blame the tangle of roots and the crone, and another sees the sacred solution therein. It but utilizes the graphic kill like the animalkingdom, to sustain life and the consciousness, and thereby sacred. We are not by default rabid at all, but we subject ourselves to that and mistake it as a top of the line, functioning mental armor, but essentially...experience at least proves me beyond a dogma that in the cosmology I engage as well as so many others before my time and yet to come, it is neither organic nor virtual, but comprised of both andtraps us in a timeline of both existing perfectly within inescapable identity; numbed to the dynamic reflex of the power in dying, and a reservoir basin of emotional and psychological feeding tube for all that parasitic wraith residue written on in maybe too much yet never enough depth so far.

So it was, I could die through my art, and have the orgasm of the Crone variety as described earlier on here. After being numb and craving in the same space-time, I could feel...I could die again. The effects of the trauma medium, really...if you take interest in this...is itself, or has similar effect to a DMT drop. DMT being the chemical that is released on death. A fantastic visionary substance I cannot encourage for reasons simply being I already too much I incriminate myself in so many other places andsubjects. If I now enter all these chemical compounds materials, I would have to follow through and either take you down the usual flower child mystic quasi-intellectual lanes of thinking my personal life and interactions is the absolute panacea, or I need to really get off mysticism completely and enroll in the academia to be taken seriously on 'fact based committee panels'...all very staunch and boring, and I'mat least self aware enough to know I'm way too mystical and paranormal activity inspired 'n experienced.

Labcoat pocket protector lunch with the cast of Nova...really null & moot and so why build the anticipation there?

Just another personal interjection, but too many are lodged between trying to master bothand kill their own motivation toward doing their own will and manifesting a viably user friendlyegregore just to get a pat on the head and a doggy treat from the blind leading the blind anyway.

In essential summation of this, I've transformed into major, potent unknown cthonic realm of the mind borne power-ups and clarity of vision and aim, meaning and effect; virtues that transcend former limited scope of what a virtue even is or how to gain and apply them pragmatically, all vis-à-vis Crone archetypal force harnessing.

“Crones can well be suspicious of dictionaries which, in listing possible etymologies for crone, suggest that it is ‘derived from a term meaning carrion. The OED discusses this possibility, but also suggests that crone is probably from carogne, meaning ‘a cantankerous or mischievous woman.’ This meaning seems somewhat appropriate. It is noteworthy that Merriam-Webster gives as the etymology ofcronythe Greek cronos, meaning long-lasting, which in turn is from chronos, meaning time. It would seem eminently logical to think that crone is rooted in the word for ‘long-lasting,’ for this is what Crones are.”

Feminist theologian and educator Mary Daly

I got this from a mostly fluff piece article that went on to talk about the Golden Girls as crones.Not quite how we are looking at the term here.My aunt watched that show religiously, though. I see it and I think of her.We did not get along too well, after I became an initiate in the Crone Mysteries.

Really, in true respects, we might look at it like the pariah who becomes uber powerful at the hedges...the fringes...the rural 'pagan' and even actual animist or other mystic sort who..the line returns; Let my armies be the rocks and the trees and the birds in the sky.

"Trees and stones will teach you what you cannot learn from masters."

I've used my quartz on the seeming 'light headed' of those graphic scenes..sometimes, the graphic part has not even happened if I can intentionally work myself into a fervor or a frenzy.

In Norse mythology, Óðr (Old Norse for the "Divine Madness, frantic, furious, vehement, eager", as a noun "mind, feeling" and also "song, poetry"; Orchard (1997) gives "the frenzied one"[1]) or Óð, sometimes angliziced as Odr or Od, is a figure associated with the major goddess Freyja. The Prose Edda and Heimskringla, written in the 13th century by Snorri Sturluson, both describe Óðr as Freyja's husband and father of her daughter Hnoss. Heimskringla adds that the couple produced another daughter, Gersemi. A number of theories have been proposed about Óðr, generally that he is somehow a hypostasis of the deity Odin due to their similarities.

The Old Norse noun óðr may be the origin of the theonym Óðinn (Anglicized as Odin), and it means "mind", "soul" or "spirit" (so used in stanza 18.1 of the Poetic Edda poem Völuspá). In addition, óðr can also mean "song", "poetry" and "inspiration", and it has connotations of "possession". It is derived from a Proto-Germanic *w ð- or *w þ- and it is related ō ōto Gothic wôds ("raging", "possessed"), Old High German wuot ("fury" "rage, to be insane") and the Anglo-Saxon words wód ("fury", "rabies") and wóð ("song", "cry", "voice", "poetry", "eloquence"). Old Norse derivations includeœði "strong excitation, possession".[2]Ultimately these Germanic words are derived from the Proto-Indo-European word *w t-, which meant "to blow (on), to āfan (flames)", fig. "to inspire". The same root also appears in Latin v t s ("seer", "singer"), which is considered to be a Celtic ā ēloanword, compare to Irish f ith ("poet", but originally "excited", "inspired").[2] The root has also been said to appear in āSanskrit v t- "to fan".[3]ā

So, you see, you should not be concerned of not seeming like a bad ass, brutal or 'metal'.You are more so, and how. Literally, how...

The fact is, you who are 'sensitive pussies', are getting it up higher, harder, and lasting longer for the whole world, and your seed..your seeth..Seiðr or Óðr is immensely strong beyond the fathoming of the unfeeling trapped in the corridor often called the Great Meat Locker.

The yoni or vescica piscis is deeply lunar, yet a dark solar & eclipse mystery that many forgo and primarily of the fear to not trust the fear as part of their own emitting instinct to get outside the former like in of the mistaken thick, powerful exterior. Here is your Crone, mistaken as the problem of our collective mind and the nausea of the world soul guts, and to cut out the crone is to abort your own ability and virtue of divine being not held to polar instigation or disambiguation of a calcified one oblivious to the power in the sacred waning; strongest hidden in the weakest, but you must be able to gocrazy to regain composure of elevated vitality pandimensional, accessed and allowed for you with natural love for your true condition of knowing, and fading to know yourself yet undiscovered...the gateof losing everything toward victory in the absolute. Ishtar's stripping down is descent..for a god, articles of rich clothing, for a human, psyche raiment of a soul purging to potentially clear mind. If you can work into a fervor or seeth, you are a naturally inspired, genuine shaman...not a pussy. Oh the horrors

that await those who would push you down to laugh and mock to seem empowered. to levitate, fly, see, feel, know, transcend, and return an Effective One rooted and celestially

powered to the genius less burdened to the innovation of those romancing the stale pale virtual logos locking them in a religious corpse...their eyes roll back of the insanity, yet they cannot leave the hot, sweaty prison of inflamed undying..no longer inverse holy, but upright and choking.

Not even anything bad ass or brutal here to speak of.

Nothing at all, and everything locked inside your maintenance and 'knowing better'...trying to whittle you down to the Had.

Hadit...Hades/Haides … invisible~visionary...Hadron [Greek strong or ripe/well grown..great/large/epic]...hæhtis/hægtis...haetnesse … goddess. Hægl, haglaz...hail – word fragments that have nothing and everything in common.

Old English hælþ "wholeness, a being whole, sound or well," from Proto-Germanic *hailitho, from PIE*kailo- "whole, uninjured, of good omen" (cognates: Old English hal "hale, whole;" Old Norse heill "healthy;" Old English halig, Old Norse helge "holy, sacred;" Old English hælan "to heal"). With Proto-Germanic abstract noun suffix *-itho. Of physical health in Middle English, but also "prosperity, happiness, welfare; preservation, safety." An abstract noun to whole, not to heal. Meaning "a salutation" (in a toast, etc.) wishing one welfare or prosperity is from 1590s.

Hagalaz is the Quincunx, if there ever was one...read on this rune of discord.

I again invoke here the very stars intentionally as gates that whittle us to the invisible passage...Stars known and distant that developed you here to the earthen, to erode and sculpt to the intimate yet great unknown and unknowable density. Radiantly Solid. Indefinite Absolute.Being beyond lesser knowing and knowing beyond lesser being...this unconditional relinquishes thatlocked in the trauma of ultimatum existence.

I never passed out – as in blacked out – but was seeing the reality as it really is...on 'giving up the ghost'...not being possessed in the blackout sense of being forced away from your conscious involvement.Crossing the Threshold and Disseminating to the Core of Pure Ecstasy.The famous transcendentally authentic soul of the poet Truth of Being and Becoming woven...and dying together in orgasm...

the Initiation belonging to the Crone's epic chalice called the cauldron.The effective adept might become the mysteries – being the energy purely rather than grasping at

the speech of a technology of the formulaic heaven's gate supposed – by eroding to adorn in the exoterica and the raiment of nature supporting the experiential space time, and abandoning the delusional paradigm of an egregore locked securely within a messianic castration to preserve the dignity of pissing on nature to embody spaces and times bleeding out more graphically and numbed, and separated of any redeeming notion of divine madness...

eternally hungry, unable to unplug...or taste to feel a thing either way, fully locked and incapable of sweet death and appreciation of total release.

That which you sculpt yourself into the world by, will be that which sees you out to the next.