Politics can be summarized as a net loss for humanity, a political system we have adopted out of fear of the others in which the lowest common denominator of opportunism and emotionality triumphs over any kind of leadership.
He turned around the corner from the office building of the Ministerio del Interior and headed towards his luxury apartment in Buenos Aires. The air of the metropolis seemed especially beneficent today, and Operative 093, a.k.a. “Fernando”, happily inhaled the pollutants that laced the atmosphere. Every person he had interacted with for the last ten years seemed to breathe life into the present he was now stepping into.
His, too, was more than a work of art. Not quite as grand a creation as the state of Israel, but similar sacrificial and psychical methods had been used in bringing it about. Fanatical National Socialists had been mercilessly removed from the Patagonia area by the hand of professional military personnel carrying out the orders of the Argentinian and Chilean governments. Their pointless complot, blind resistance, and violent deaths had paved a path of skulls towards his crowning achievement. This was what the soil cried for. This was exactly what made the grass grow.
His glory would be enjoyed from the solitude and darkness, he thought, in some retreat in the Caribbean after his work was done. For this, he had already set aside a completely legal account in the Cayman Islands through a diversified permanent portfolio. Neither personal fame before the mundane nor illegal means had been in any way necessary for the attaining of Aeonic sinister goals. Steady, step-wise acquisition of influence and worldly power, however, was the most straight-forward and obvious path.
He stepped into his high-end apartment, enjoying the air that the sober, lean, modernistic lines with which it was furnished imparted him. He thought briefly of the traditional mystics crouching in rundown cottages, scribbling away in impenetrable philosophical language and issuing dozens upon dozens of documents filed away by some, read by few, and understood by even fewer who would never make a difference upon the world. He shook his head, chuckling, and heaved a heavy sigh. Hanging on the wall was the law degree he had earned twenty years ago, and how that had been the beginning of a long career culminating in influential posts within the Argentinian government.
With the help of other associates in the Argentinian and Chilean governments, and without needing to infiltrate the army at all since the army wields no executive power whatsoever, an autonomous region was created within the Patagonia area with the express purpose of conducting a long-term social experiment. Herein, it was granted power and advanced technological means to a select group of families previously nominated and screened by the secret group of associates to live outside the norms and laws of South American society. Furthermore, technical advice and economic aid would be forthcoming from both governments to assist towards cultivating a new way of life and its viability for the future. Therein, they would be allowed to practice the religion and customs of their choice.
He walked into the darkest room in his house, purposely darkened and dedicated to his dark meditations. These consisted of wordless concentration. No sigils were ever used, nor candles lit. No names were summoned. Only a single-pointed power that emanated from him, a power fed in turn by all those who served his will. Worlds upon worlds took shape therein.
For years he had come into this room and seen the silent bloodshed that was now still taking place in removing from the area the last specimens of an obsolete phalanx of ideologically-obsessed pawns. Their ill-begotten leaders were now kept in black sites, the contents of their fanzines and the nature of their fetishistic altars tortured out of them by intelligence officers that would never comprehend or accept the answers given them and who would carve their own trapezoidal sigils into the flesh and psyche of their victims.
For years he had stood still for hours on end breathing life into the now-solidified vision of high-tech sustainable abodes that would house the Internal Adepts and their families who would form the rank-and-file of the autonomous region. The orchestrators would remain unnamed, retiring into peace and luxury, pulling the strings only by whispering through networks of connections cultivated through years of patient work.
Today his work had come to full fruition. He felt the rush of energy, the returned shockwaves of his actualized vision filling him, making him grow even stronger. He was here yet he was also there. And that same night an airborne disc-like shape haunted the fjords of the autonomous region of the Patagonia, raising alarms as it was seen by the naked eye of military personnel and radar alike. He would then pay one last visit to the warm oases of Antarctica and commune with the presence that there abides before leaving his beloved Buenos Aires.
https://archive.org/details/GregorianChantMass/
Clarice
Nexion of Ur
Patagonia