Viva the Serpent

Shapeless in his inexorable blood-lust, you kiss the chains of your sanctuary-cum-slavery, but that pungent taste of iron which dances on your palate is not the links that hold you to Providence, but the red vapour arising from each fallen heathen hero to have defied the "divine".

He brings toils and tempest, tragedy and torment, yet those who have escaped his disasters (which in their natural form are indeed wonders to marvel!) waste not a grain in submitting...thanking! their tyrant that he may have lovingly spared them from the very fate of their kin.

His all seeing eyes, his omniscience, will only serve him if those who follow remain fixed to their parochial lenses. His dynasty means death to all that may forestall, his scripture heresy to the wonders of existence.

Viva the Serpent, for he imbues us with the sweetness of liberty. Hail to the Conqueror Worm, from our delicate infancy to our moribund frailty, he has instilled our souls with the truth of our mortality. Only to him do we owe fear, only to him do we thank for our deepest freedom. Glory to the louse, only in his infinitesimal autonomy have we perceived clearly the reflection and scope of our own sentience. May his minute form humble us forevermore.

Do not allow the fires of your perspicacity to be trampled under sequacious boots nor subdued by the will of those who are intimidated by it -they withdraw from the heat of your knowledge for fear it may vitrify their delusion so that they see with undefiled clarity. May it one day be a flourishing vessel of sharpest intellect, dull only in comparison to the razor from which you carve your way forward, hacking away the detritus of their cloth. Truly, yours is the most noble and scintillating blade the red dawn of this age will see.

Do not succumb to the draconian lie that your flesh is mere facade. It is your vehicle of epicurean independence, a glorious receptacle of meat and chemicals. Steer it from compulsion but do not cheapen this life with the austere holy masochism of the ascetic or eremite.

Lucifer is thee, Milton; oh how you have deified me.