Wednesday, December 30, 2015

EC 502
Upon Whom the Ends
of the Ages Have Come…
a fantasy for an apocalypse
© Ludis Cuckold (2015)
11 You’ve Pissed All Over Yourself

As soon as Daisy and her mother were together alone, her mother turned on her.

“You slut!” the mother screamed. “Is this why I have children? Is this how you want to remember losing your childhood? For how long has this been going on?”

“It’s the first time,” stammered Daisy.

“Yeah, sure,” replied her mother. “Just like he’s been doing it to Mareka! Except Mareka is half your age and has no idea.”

Daisy did not know how to answer.

“Yopt vai! Look at your crotch! You’ve pissed all over yourself!” continued her mother.

As intimidated as Daisy was, her mother’s attack on her caused her to remember that the previous year, when during a cook out in their yard, her stepfather had taken her younger sister to the outhouse, she had seen him stroke her vagina as if to make her pee. When she had come on the scene and asked what he was doing, Stefan had showed her a medicine bottle, where he said he was collecting urine for medicinal purposes.

Urine for medicinal purposes has been used in Europe (and other places in the world) from ancient times. Various cultures have various reasons for doing so.  It may be a holdover from the days when ludies lived in the wood and were getting medication from their shamans. One of the explanations for the tradition is that the shamans were drinking a potion made of a mushroom known as  amanita mysteria*, which was too strong for the average ludi or, for that matter, the King. This is why the urine of shamans was thought after as holy water, a hallucinogen, a bringer of unusual dreams, and a cure. On the other hand, there is a link on the internet that tells how a pop singer by the name of Madonna claims that when showering, she delights in pissing on her feet. Who has not pissed into the swimming pool? Is that not a placebo of sorts?

*Amanita Muskaria, a scarlet mushroom that attracts flies, aka Fly Agaric, is a mushroom which peasants used to put on their kitchen tables to kill flies—though it is doubtful that it in fact killed them. In the author’s youth, the mushroom was doused with purplish alcohol and sprinkled with sugar. The sugar attracted the flies, while the alcohol poisoned them. This is how the mushrooms gained a reputation for being poisonous. The tradition was likely begun—under penalty of death or a beating if refused—by Christian monks who wished to destroy the reputations of local shamans and cause the ludies of the wood to lose their sense of spiritual independence. More properly, the Amanita Muskaria (aka Housefly Mushroom) ought to be called Amanita Mysteria (mushroom of unusual experiences).

“I am ashamed!” Daisy’s mother continued hysterically. “Who would imagine the Yopt gets off when girls piss on his hands?”

“He did the same thing to Zhenya.”

 “Who told you that?” the mother screamed.

“I saw it,” replied Daisy.

“That does not make you any less the slut—even if he drinks it,” her mother continued.

“But it was Stefan, who…,” protested Daisy.

“You let him…. before my very eyes!”

Daisy was getting angry over her mother’s accusations. She felt being backed into a corner.

 “I thought that you wanted him to do it!’’ Daisy replied. “Why did you not say anything? Why did you leave me?”

That is a question that has not been fully answered to this day. One answer may be that Daisy’s mother was afraid she would be beaten if she behaved or said anything different as Stefan was not above enforcing his authority by using violence as a means. Daisy made it no secret that he hit her. The other answer may hide a repressed longue duree memory of petting as a preliminary to intercourse. If the story of the mitten recalls its early use as a facilitator of sexual contact, that is now forgotten, the joke about the ‘sock’ that prevails in among the military to this day may recall. When a soldier says: “I have not had pussy for ages”, his buddy responds: “You still have socks, haven’t you?” Incidentally, socks or hose evolved of what were once called leggings.

A form of petting called ‘twerking’ has visual as well as physical contact aspects  and has no stigma of guilt attached to it. If there are objections, these are met with some jocular rebuttal such as ‘I thought everyone is doing it’.

Daisy’s mother did not let up and asked: “So, did the yopt say anything more to you?”

“He said he liked me and wants me to come sleep next to him,” replied Daisy.

Sunday, December 27, 2015

EC 501
Upon Whom the Ends
of the Ages Have Come…
a fantasy for an apocalypse
© Ludis Cuckold (2015)
10 The Virtual Sweat of Harvard

During the last decade of the second millennium, all factory farms in the former Soviet Union (a kolkhoz being a farm operated as much as possible according to the methods of a factory), were going bankrupt, and were being liquidated by applying the shock economic policies of the West*. Consequently, with the exception of a few, most kolkhozes, which had been the bread and butter for the majority of the population were being liquidated or were about to be liquidated.

*Shock economic policy was a policy of economic violence advocated by the Harvard School of Business on behalf of the U.S. government for ‘free’ and ‘liberated’ Eastern Europe after the fall of the Soviet Union on the cusp of the last decade of the 20th century. This disingenuous policy was pioneered by a disingenuously violent economics professor who now claims that there was no other way for him to be ‘successful’. Be that as it may, the policy abandoned the people of Russia and Eastern European countries to confusion and such devices as it engenders, which exposed them to fear and despair, that brought about increased alcoholism among men and women, a huge number of suicides (mostly among men), a humongous increase in prostitution lasting to this day, abandoned children, rampant demoralization (thievery among the more prominent phenomena), increased domestic violence, loss of economic assets to foreign ‘investments’ (which includes farm land and forests), and flight of the most young and energetic part of the citizenry to Western countries among some of the more notable consequences. Latvia lost roughly 25% of its population due to ‘economic’ flight (about 6-700,000 out of 2.6 million), though its endemically corrupt ‘democratic’ government refuses to admit it. ‘Shock’ economic policies continue to be applied by Western Europe by way of greatly reduced farm subsidies to Eastern Europe (compared to farmers of Western Europe proper), while at the same time making Western regime subsidized public housing that encourages growth of war supporting city populations nigh invisible. Little or no resistance to this gradual destruction of a nation and its people is offered by any of the organized institutions of the country being destroyed, among which the Christian Church (dominated by Catholic theology, re Catholicism, Lutheranism, et al) is among the most lethargic*.

*The lethargy of secularized Christianity in the post-Westphalia Peace (1648) era is co-partner in the dismantling of Latvia as a Commons. While the forebears of the author stem from a branch of 18th century Christians known as Herrnhuters (Moravian Church) who today are lambasted (under the breath) as dualists, Manicheans, and heretics, it is undeniable that without them there would neither be an Estonia or Latvija. The compromises of the Lutheran church against belief in God in the post-Westphallia Peace period (in effect a period dedicated to the elimination of Christianity as it was understood by those who still held to an allegiance to the natural environment—the Cathars, Lollards, the Diggers. Hussites, the Moravian Brotherhood, Herrnhuters, etc.) are among the more shameful chapters of the ‘reform’ movement that emerged out of the corrupt practices by the Catholic clergy. Though due to the vicissitudes of history the author was baptized as a Lutheran, he feels no spiritual relatedness to the failures of the Lutheran Church to live up to its once touted potential to oppose a rampant secularist ‘freedom’ movement advocated by a Rome moved from the East to the West. One wonders, whether the day may not come when Latvijans. Estonians, and other Europan communities of what remains of their Commons advocate the nullification of the Westphalian Peace Treaty in favor of a renewal of ‘religious wars’. Or, failing to do that, chose to join Islam in battle against the Great Satan.

In an autocephalic wood-and-garden economy (which provides with a living but a family and hangers on, the latter which include its old, economically less fortunate family members, and such as otherwise may be homeless) a fascist* ruling class cannot come to power and rule over the people or succeed in  encouraging them to favor a fascist orientation. This is because in the wood there are no calls for a ‘salvation economy’, as we hear coming from Greece today** and were heard coming from Germany after WW1 & 2. ‘A salvation economy’ has but two ways to go: the way of fascism (the preferred social order of a city led polity that turns socialism into nazism), or back to nature and the wood where shortages may be many, but where there is no 1% of billionaires to put words in your mouth; and where poverty is unheard of, and economic equality is the norm.

*Fascist—simply put, fascism is the exploitation of the environment (of nature and homo sapiens) for the benefit of a self-enclosed group of homo sapiens, be it Hitler’s infamous Germany, the U.S. secularist Empire, the deputies of the EU parliament, or the Latvian Saeima.
**The former Finance Minister of Greece, Yanis Varoufakis, has recently called for a return of Greece to a ‘growth’ economy. Such a ‘growth’ economy, though desirable from the point of view of virtual reason that comes home grown of a virtual society, is clearly no longer possible for an economy that faces thirty or more years of debt servicing. While Varoufakis may see ‘growth’ as salvation, salvation will come to Greece only if it returns the land to the trees and gardens that used to cover the land before the city dwellers turned Greece into a ‘democracy’ of which the corner stone is not a stone in the field, but of short-term poured concrete. True, it is up to the Greeks (and Latvijans) to figure out for themselves how best to return to an autocephalic community. That is no easy task or quickly arrived at perception in a civilization composed of greedy individualists.

A salvation economy has little in common with the economies of capitalist and city overrun nations. The unsustainability of a ‘growth’ economy, favored by citified and moribund nation states, imagines that centralized hegemons offer better survival for a society living off the laurels of a failed Industrial revolution. Unfortunately, the latter continues to speak from a perspective of virtual reason in full bloom and half-way to the moon, yet does not perceive its reasoning powers as skewed.

In a ‘salvation economy’—if salvation is to work—sustainment comes from a return to the old and, if you will, ‘primitive’ ways of economy. This is because of the nature of homo sapiens, a creature that lived in the wood for thousands upon thousands of years, and evolved into a creature adapted to that environment. Though a return to a natural economy is presented as an impossibility, the argument comes mostly from the rich whose wealth has been increased (roughly in two hundred years) to the nth power by the dictatorship of ‘democratic’ cities.

Even so, a paved planet is unlikely to sustain a future for its human inhabitants (though the Chinese regime appears to think otherwise as it apparently wishes to transfer yet another 100 million farmers into cities), whereas life in the countryside, no matter how traumatic a return to it may be, is where a life sustaining Commons is likely to be rediscovered and humankind sustained.

Following the collapse of the Soviet Union (due to a ‘victorious’ U.S.), the ‘renewal’ of formerly sovereign nations, which had been incorporated into the Soviet Union, occurred without any guidance from institutions with a mind of their own within the ‘liberated’ countries, simply because there were none.

It is reasonable to think that if there had been critical minds to evaluate the conditions at the time, these would have advised caution by pointing out that the West had exhausted itself through over-consumption, a hubris propelled abandonment of self-discipline, and reckless ‘human rights’ advocacy led by mindless secularism. No one considered the consequences this would have on a people who would be ‘forced’ by these ‘forces’ over the cliff, so to speak, without a chance to even take a deep breath and scream.

Because of the absence of institutions that could elicit advice from within its own Commons, Latvija was rushed by post-Soviet ‘democrats’ pimping (and advertising) on behalf of capitalist and ‘growth’ oriented European Union. It has taken less than twenty-five years to bring ‘renewed’ Latvia to its Last Days.

Today, sucker fish of Latvijan origin sit in Brussels and pimp Latvija in the name of a cosmopolitanized monopolist European Union. A veritable council of deputies sits in the self-elected parliament of the EU on behalf of a fascist, pseudo ‘democratic’, and dictatorial Latvian regime that succeeded the Soviet Union with the help of Western intelligence agencies*.

*As a Latvian who holds dual citizenship (the other being that of the U.S.), I am profoundly disturbed by the role of the U.S. in the destruction of Latvia. While the destruction of the Balts may have its origins with the arrival of the first Viking raft or boat in the Dniepr River delta, the course of that destruction—its last phase beginning roughly in the 11th century and not yet ended in the 21st—has involved many armies and polities, among them German, Swedish, Russian, Soviet, and U.S. While I have great admiration for the American people and have in my time enjoyed much of what America has to offer, I am sad to say that I began to note an overt betrayal of the country’s ideals by its centralized authority beginning with the assassination of President Kennedy in 1963 (some point to an earlier time), and have been suspicious of the American regime’s goals ever since.

It will seem strange to those who survive the coming wars that the real needs of our days are not perceived by historians in Western universities or anywhere else. This is because ‘history’ has become a hindrance to ‘destiny’ chosen by regimes, which are regimenting society on behalf of an economic elite that knows the interior of a private jet better than it knows the shade of a linden tree. As a result of the failure of ‘historians’ to tell of past the events and their causes, the People of cities have been reduced to limbless torsos that have fallen out of wheelbarrows and scream for the breast of absurd benefits such as a no-austerity economy.

Given the encouragement by post-Soviet ‘Latvijan’ state bureaucracy to forget history, tradition, religion, resources, and themselves, former kolkhoz hands, were expected to drown their disappointment in an requiting consumerist West—come the Love Festival (Yahnyi-Jāņi) of Midsummer—in alcohol.

The leader of the raid on the electric motors was Daisy’s stepfather. It was he who had the tools with which to unscrew, cut and separate the motors from the fans. Daisy’s mother had a wooden plank with handles on which to lay the motors and carry them to the trunk of their ‘Zhigul’. The small car was parked behind the barn, and the family was sitting on concrete blocks that were threwn about. To lessen anxiety Stefan encouraged himself with an occasional draught from a bottle of ‘krutka’ (the Latvian word for moonshine being a perversion of the name for ‘vodka’), which he carried in his jacket pocket. On several occasions, he passed the bottle to his wife and Daisy. Not to offend him, the women put the bottle to their lips and took small sips.

Daisy, who was fourteen years old at the time, was chosen for the job of unwinding the copper coils, and finding a hiding place for the unwound wire behind the family’s shack in the wood.

The month was June, the year 2000 and nine years after the ‘liberation’ of the Northeastern Balkan states from the Soviet Union. Internet chronology tells this time as the time when Italy pardoned the Turkish gunman who in 1981 tried to kill Pope John Paul II (the would be assassin had incubated within him an Eastern sense of history all too well); while Israel pulled its troops from Lebanon; and Scotland repealed the laws outlawing homosexuality (the Scots had, at last, turned, cosmopolitan, a state of being that put sex into overdrive to survive boredom). The 9/11 event is still a year away.

As Stefan went over the scenario of how the raid was to proceed, the siren of a fire engine was heard in the distance. Post-Soviet Latvijan Johns Day merry makers apparently had built a bonfire too high, and the sparks, carried by a wind, had ignited the roof of an abandoned hay barn. Such relics of once auto-cephalic farmsteads, dotted the Latvian countryside, where homes were being abandoned and left empty en masse by its fleeing inhabitants. Many farmers sold whatever woodland they owned and then took a plane for Ireland, England, or wherever someone offered and paid a wage one could survive on and did not have to pay value added taxes (VAT) to clothe themselves.

Daisy looked at her mother. Her mother said nothing. Then Daisy looked at Stefan, her stepfather. He blinked an eye in a reassuring way, then got up and walked over and sat down beside her. He took her hand and stroked it as if to calm her.

Daisy pressed her head against Stefan’s shoulder (she later told that she had so wanted him to become her real father). Young as she was, she knew from hearsay that the money they would earn from the theft would soon be gone. The money would buy them little more than a few sacks of potatoes, gas for their ‘Zhigul’, and maybe a used sofa to sleep on, and, hopefully, enough would be left for a new television set. Daisy was not sure that what they were doing was worth the trouble they could get into. She knew enough history to know that if Stalin were alive and they were found out, he would surely sentence them to the gulag and perhaps even have them shot.

Then Stefan did something that shocked Daisy so much that she lost her voice. He abruptly seized her shoulders, pulled her half-way into his lap, where he had her lie staring up at his face. Just as unexpectedly, he put his hand between her legs, and began to stroke her thighs, even as he murmured: “Don’t worry. Everything will be all right”.

Daisy’s mother who sat close by, did not blink an eye and stared at her husband and what was going on as if through a window of an empty store. After a few minutes of sitting there, long enough to show that she was not intimidated by her husband, she rose and went to sit in the Zhigul.

Daisy was confused and shocked, but because Stefan made no other aggressive moves, she remained silent and unresisting. Then without saying a word Stefan unbuttoned the fly of her jeans and pushed his hand deeper between her thighs. He continued to pet her and reassure her that everything would be alright. After a while, he added: “Now you know what St. Johns’ eve is for.”

Daisy did not reply. Perhaps this was because her head was in Stefan’s lap and her neck felt Stefan’s cock swell and become rigid.

Stefan continued to stroke her, until Daisy’s vagina began to feel funny and began to contract. When orgasm came, Daisy was so surprised (she had never had one before) that she thought God was punishing her, and involuntarily urinated on Stefan’s hand. For his part, Stefan used the happenstance as a distraction, had Daisy sit up, and quickly unbuttoned his fly. Them he took Daisy’s hand and put it on himself and told her to: “Jerk (mauc) me off!”

When the brief sexual entanglement was over, there was no time to waste. Daisy wiped Stefan’s semen off her hands into the grass. Stefan wiped his hands with a handkerchief, and went and began to dismantle the fans, which were just a few meters away from them. It was clear from the way he handled the wrench that this was not the first time he had done this.

When the first electric motor was unloosed, Stefan told Daisy to ask her mother to bring the carry litter. When the motor (with the casing removed) was placed on the plank, he and his wife carried the motor to the car and placed it in the trunk. Since St. Johns’ eve has the shortest night of the year, there was no problem in seeing what they were doing. It took several hours to dismantle all four motors, and their work progressed in an atmosphere of silence. They all breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally in the Zhigul and on their way home. Indeed, it was as if Daisy no longer remembered what had happened to her.

Yet when I asked her if she could remember when her attacks of vegetative dystonia (sudden heart palpitations, shortness of breath, sweating, headaches) had begun, she mentioned this very event.

Thursday, December 24, 2015

EC 500
Upon Whom the Ends
of the Ages Have Come…
a fantasy for an apocalypse
© Ludis Cuckold (2015)
9 A Holy Day Becomes Profane

After Zeus had rescued his son by Zemele from the wrath of Hera, he hid him by sewing him into his thigh. This caused Di-yony-sus to be born not only with an impressive penis, but a remarkable appetite for sex.

Soon after Dionysus’ birth there began to appear stories about a goat that jumps (yumpts) over the roof. The Latvijan name for roof is yumpts. For all we know, the word may derive from the letter ‘A’, in the writing of which, we see two lean-to beams stacked against each other and a horizontal beam connecting and holding them together. In Latvija such horizontal beams in the attick often bore the date the roof was erected. Did the beam perhaps stand for the penis of a billy goat or symbolized fertility, a prayer of good fortune, or the act of mating?

Among Latvijans, a Double John or Di-yon-ysus was known as Yumis. Yumis is a name for anything that comes double: a double ear of corn, a double pine cone, a tree with two trunks, a calf with two heads, and—as we just noted—a double sum sex encounter on the roof accomplished by means of a beam joining or mating together the two halves of a roof.

It was through the logic of pareidolia applied to story and myth that the Midsummer Solstice, which occurs on June 21, acquired the reputation of a holy day as well as New Year’s Day. The forebears of Latvians did not necessarily think of the New Year as the end of the longest night and the beginning of the lengthening of days, but could also think of the New Year as a peak day, when the peak and beginning of decline of the Sun was celebrated by a love feast. Unfortunately, for Latvians, in later years, violent men exercised their violence by switching the New Year of the Balts from Summer (June) to Winter (January) Solstice.

Since the gestation period of a child is nine months or 270 days, love and sexual unions of St. Johns or summer New Year’s days, bore their results around the time of the Vernal Equinox (June + 9 months = the Ides of March). Since June was the favored month for weddings—as much then as now, and the bride distributed many of the mittens in her dowry as gifts to the wedding guests for them to fill them with a gifts of seeds, it was believed that children born in March were born of a violation (an overspill of seed, so to speak) of sacred customs, hence the warning of the Sybil to Caesar: “Beware the Ides of March”.

The prophetic voice, according to Shakespeare, came from a prophetess hiding in the crowd gathered around Caesar. Some say the Sybil was not recognized for who she was, because her voice came from a jar held by one of Caaesar’s sycophants from where she—sown into a mitten which was thereafter stuffed into the jar on summer solstice day of the previous year—refused to leave it, but preferred to die with her imagined beauty never exposed to open eyes.

While some believe that the Roman holy day of Lupercalia (likely pronounced LuperCHalia, wherefore ‘chalia’ echoes to the Slavic word for human being—‘chilovek’) occurred in the middle of February, it was more likely celebrated as a Love Feast in March (or it may have varied according to the geographical parallel of latitude one is born to). For those who have the ear, the word ‘Luper’ echoes to the name of Ludi—the now estranged name for People. The Slavic name for love is ‘lyublyu’. The names remains powerful enough to have their pareidolic associations hid to this day: The revolt of the weavers or ‘Luddites’ in England (1811-13) against machine woven cloth and the Industrial Age was not led by a mysterious Englishman whose name just happened to be Nedd Ludd. Indeed, the revolt spoke on behalf of all crafts-men and –women—ages past and present.

The significance of the word ‘ludi’ was swept under the rug when the countryside and the wood where eliminated in favor of the princely ‘polis’. The original meaning of polis stands for castle and fortress or ‘pils’ in Latvian. Other inflections and phonemes transformed the name into names such as ‘police’, ‘politician’, etc. which replaced older names such as of gendarme and gans. ‘Ludi’ was belittled even more, when made-of-concrete prisons and city  ‘polities’ replaced the wood; when the night skies were replaced by street lamps; flowers of the field were replaced by ‘venereal flowers’ (re: My Fair Lady or Pygmalion by G.B. Shaw) in London and Paris; and the word ‘ludi’ began to disappear in favor of ‘cosmopolite’. The ludis who used to congregate in the Commons (once also market places) became known as ‘pucks of the polis’ or ‘people’ for short. In Latvijan, ‘puck’ is pronounced ‘puika’ and comes from an Estonian word. It means a lad, a boy, a rascal, a sovereign, a wild one from the wood discovered in the city, who is not accountable to anyone but himself.

Names that still recall the world of Ludi are found in the names of kings—Ludwig and Louis--the last of who was beheaded by violent young catholic (and cosmopolite) proto-capitalists who led and cheered on the French Revolution. The claim that the French Revolution was led by intellectuals of a New Age or anarchists is an invention, if you will, by neo-Catholics, who today are known as globalists. Indeed, virtual reality casts a hypnotic spell over our ‘enlightened’ civilization.

As recently as the 1940s, Johns Day was celebrated among Latvijans with due reverence for ancient countryside traditions (home made beer could be had at almost every farmstead). But by the late 20th century the holiday acquired a reputation as a day for debauchery. When after the collapse of the Soviet Union Latvija regained independence (1990), Johns Day debauches in Latvija were tolerated (the government wished to prove itself ‘patriotic’ even as home-made beer was declared ‘moonshine’ and outlawed) and even encouraged. This resulted in more traffic deaths (no more your favorite gelding and horse sense to draw your wagon and your overindulged body home) due to drunkenness than in any other country in Europe.

Knowing that on Johns Day most Latvijan men—having sexually cannibalized as many women as they found willing—would be drunk, the stepfather of Daisy, Stefan, planned to take advantage of the phenomenon and make a raid, the objective of which was to steal metal from an abandoned barn.

Why raid a countryside barn?

Today countryside barns (once known as ‘rijas’*) are no longer used as living or meeting places or to store grain, but are used solely for the purpose of drying grain. In Soviet times, outside such barns (no longer of wood but sheet metal) there were four, maybe six (two or three on each side) electric motors which generated heat and then blew the hot air into the barn.

*’Rija’ in Latvian means ‘a swallow’, a mouthful. The rijas  had broad and high entrances in order to allow for high and full wagon loads of wheat and corn stalk to be brought under the roof for drying.

The coils of the electric motors were made of copper, which, when removed was in demand on the black market.