"It is safe to say that while the South is hardly Christ-centered, it is most certainly Christ-haunted." - Flannery O'Connor

carpeumbra:

oh look a post about how “demons have feelings too they don’t like being bound”

okay

It’s pretty common for Satanists not to exorcise or in other ways restrain demons, to be honest. Many consider them to be servants of the same master, so it would be rude to attempt.

I can’t see how it applies outside that, however.

pieandhotdogs sent: What is your favorite scent?

If we’re talking about perfume, I’m rather a fan of Chanel No. 5 and Dior Miss.

If we’re speaking of cologne, I love Caswell-Massey No. 6 because my Daddy wore it.

Past that, I love the scent of frankincense because it make me think of Heaven, hay because it makes me think of home, and the scent of leaves in the cold Autumn because it makes me think of God, Satan and the darkness that used to seem so encompassing when I was a child.

The gods can’t give you anything that’s not already in you, and sometimes they flay you to reach it.

(via mothwinged)

(Source: strepentsilences)

This is a blasphemous thought, even by my standards, but I simply adore the thought of Vlad Tepes so nearly destined for a vicious sainthood.

I cherish the image of him as the picture of a saint that modern pagans would so love to hate, with lips covered in blood, and a life sworn to the cross since childhood. He would be the knight his father had never been even if he had to become a monster in the process.

I imagine him seated in the cool evening beside St. Stefan; his beautiful golden cousin, who was every bit as ferocious a crusader. He would be so near to a living saint that he might even fondly embrace him, so familiar with him that he would know his childhood fears.  Vlad would listen so intently to his wise counsel in warfare but, when all had been said, he would scoff at the reserve of Stefan’s hand when it came to his own people.    

Vlad, so very nearly good, who could make angels weep for his cruelty.  Gradually losing his very chance at Heaven, because the longer that he lived, the more distant the promise became.  Thoughts of love for a woman who would never see Heaven would plague him, memories of shame and turmoil brought upon him by his father’s own disloyalty, and the distant recollection of a brother who so loved God that he died for Him.

I would wish him to be the darkness to St. Maria Goretti’s light. Where she is the symbol of forgiveness, he would be vengeance…the monster in your closet who watches over you.  I imagine him as nearly a demon that never quite gave up on his wish for Heaven, but simply buried it as far within him as he could.

high resolution →

virtueminehonor:

quelle-fuckin-suprise replied to your post “How do you worship the Christian god and the Irish gods too because I’m very interested”

Just wanted to say that the pagans weren’t coverted peacefully at all. The metaphor of St Patrick banishing snakes comes from his massacre of druids and other pagans who wouldn’t convert in the 5th century. Him and his followers murdered Irish pagans

You haven’t been following me for very long.

I do my fucking research. You would do well to do the same and not base your entire understanding of this history off of Catholic saint mythos.

I would applaud any former slave who murdered his ‘masters.’

However, St. Patrick did not.

He believed God wished for him to convert those who had enslaved them and due to a great understanding of the culture (having had it forced upon him) he was able to do so quite peacefully.

http://whoreofabaddon.tumblr.com/post/95417486677/viridianxcity-tbh-i-blame-pieandhotdogs-and

viridianxcity:

whoreofabaddon:

viridianxcity:

Tbh I blame pieandhotdogs and whoreofabaddon for giving me emotions over Christian figures

But really, when you start to think of Christ as man (alongside god,) how can you not?

Can you imagine the…

Ugh but imagine Jesus with nothing to prove and just spreading the love of Hashem and the wisdom of the Tanakh and double ugh

But Jesus is literally the most influential Jew who ever lived and I respect him so much in and out of the context of Christian mythos. I’m pretty sure I’m the only Jew who cares about Jesus (I’m not counting those Jews for Jesus their just icky).

Jesus inside the context of Judasim still has something to prove, in my opinion.

It would, in fact, remain largely the same thing because he taught of a God who was forgiving and loving. He taught for man to treat one another with respect and gentleness. He taught that there is no greater act of love than personal sacrifice and he died to prove that.

It’s a lesson equally needed by Jews and Christians. Not because they are not all taught this, but because, as humans we often forget.

That being said, I do have great trouble imagining Jesus not believing himself to be Christ. The disciples, likewise, I can’t imagine thinking him anything but the messiah. Whether or not he was.

beagmactire:

whoreofabaddon:

viridianxcity:

Tbh I blame pieandhotdogs and whoreofabaddon for giving me emotions over Christian figures

But really, when you start to think of Christ as man (alongside god,) how can you not?

Can you imagine the ache of being called ‘bastard’ through out his life? (When the whole time, he knows that God is his father, and the only response that evokes is accusations of blasphemy or insanity. Yet, if this is God’s will, then so it will be.)

The pain of knowing that not only was he the cause of every accusation of sin against his dear sweet mother, but that he would bring her unimaginable pain in days to come? (When Mary would never dream of any act so cruel as adultery and every gaze she casts towards him is tender and good.)

The bitter-sweet agony that must lingered after every kiss Judas ever gave him? (He must have tasted the desperation on his lips, just as surely as he felt the darkness through his adoration. The nagging judgement of his other disciples who must have questioned how Jesus could find something precious in a sicarius)

And to die, agonized, abandoned, and suddenly overcome by doubt which he had never felt in his life? Poor sweet rabbi with his dying breath accepting that he would be the lamb of God; whipped, bloody, and obedient…

You stop that. Right now.

I refuse.