The Apolitical Deofel Quartet

Order of Nine Angles

O9A

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Those who have studied O9A esotericism in detail, and those who have an intuitive or artistic appreciation of the Sinister-Numinous aesthetic of the Order of Nine Angles (ONA, O9A), know that the O9A in essence is apolitical, regarding all political forms and all political ideologies as causal abstractions, some of which forms may however be useful for a while as exeatic learning experiences – as Insight Rôles – for some individuals in the early years of their decades-long journey along the O9A Seven Fold Way. But all of which causal abstractions – from politics, to religions, to sociological and psychological theories and posited archetypes – are surpassed, left behind, understood as irrelevant – when the individual undertakes and successfully emerges from the ordeal of The Abyss.

Which ordeal reveals The Unity, the affective acausality, beyond the illusive, the mundane, dialectic of opposing opposites; an illusive dialectic exemplified by “choosing sides” such as, in terms of political abstractions, “Left Wing” and “Right Wing”.

Those conversant with O9A esotericism will know that the novels of the O9A Deofel Quartet (written in the 1970s and the 1980s) present

“much of the diverse aural traditions as AL [Anton Long] received them: as stories about people, their interactions; their ‘satanic’ or esoteric views and beliefs; and about certain events that involved those people. In The Deofel Quartet he simply reworked the factual material – as writers of fiction are wont to do – in order to make an interesting story, in the process obscuring the identities of those involved and sometimes their place of residence or work; added some entertaining details (as in the ‘astral battles’ between goodies and baddies in Falcifer, of a kind now familiar – decades later – from the Harry Potter stories) and concatenated certain events in order to provide ‘action’ in a limited time-frame.

Thus, the fictional stories not only compliment other O9A material but provide a ‘different way into’ the complex O9A mythos; a way that many will find more interesting (and certainly more entertaining) than thousands of pages of sometimes polemical and sometimes ponderous O9A factual texts, and a way that especially places the O9A’s satanism into perspective, Aeonically and otherwise.”

None of the novels of the Quartet concern politics. None of them deal with political revolution or concern themselves with “terrorism”. None of them concern “neo-nazism”. None of them involve “racism” or are “anti-gay” or misogynistic. In truth, the novels – ahead of their time – contain strong female characters (such as Fiona in The Greyling Owl, and Lianna in The Giving) as well as positive gay characters (such as Fenton in The Greyling Owl).

To understand the O9A is to understand how and why The Deofel Quartet presences O9A esotericism: as involving real individuals some of whom (as in Falcifer) may have an interest in Satanism and the Occult, and some of whom (as in The Greyling Owl) are not interested in, or appear not to be interested in, Satanism and the Occult. As readers of such works as Falcifer and The Giving and The Temple of Satan discover, esoterically the O9A is far beyond even the causal abstraction, the causal form, termed “Satanism”.

Thus, as described in The Temple Of Satan,

“All of [the books], and the manuscripts bound like books, were about alchemy, magick or the Occult. He could read the Latin of the medieval manuscripts and books, but what they related did not interest him as the later books brought forth no desire to read further.

Even the Black Book of Satan, resting on the table, seemed irrelevant to him. They were all compilations of shadow words, appearing to Thurstan to fall short of the aim that the searchers who had written them should have aimed for. His instinctive feeling was to observe in a contemplative way some facet of the cosmos – to stand outside in the dark of the night and listen for the faint music that travelled down to Earth from the stars – rather the enclose himself in the warm womb of a house to read the writings of others. Demons, spells, hidden powers, the changing of base metal to gold, even the promises of power and change for himself, were not important to Thurstan, and he left the library with its stored knowledge and forbidden secrets and lurking gods, to walk in the moonlit garden.

The stars were not singing for him – or he could not hear them above the turmoil of his thought…

He moved, like an old man pained by his limbs, through the cold and sometimes swirling mist along a path that took him toward the Mynd and up, steeply, to its level summit where he stood, high above the mist, to watch the mist-clotted valleys below.

The heather was beginning to show the glory of its colour, and he walked through it northbound along the cracked and stony road stopping often to turn around and wait. But no one and nothing came to him – no voices, song or sigh […]

The very Earth itself seemed to be whispering to him the words of this truth. He began to sense, slowly, that there was for him real magick here where moorland fell to form deep hollows home to those daughters of Earth known as springs and streams, and where the Neolithic pathway had heard perhaps ten million stories. No wisps of clouds came to spoil the glory of the sun as it rose over the mottled wavy hills beyond the Stretton valley miles distant and below. No noise to break the almost sacred silence heard. For an instant it seemed as if some divinity, strange but pure, came into the world, and smiled.”

Thus, The Greyling Owl deals

“with a type of ‘hidden sinister sorcery’ that owes little or nothing to what has become accepted as ‘the Western occult tradition’, satanic or otherwise, with its demons, its invocations and evocations, its rituals, and people dressing up in robes. Instead, it concerns someone being manipulated, brought into a position of influence, without even knowing or suspecting there is an occult aspect; someone – in modern parlance – being ‘groomed’ to at some future time use that influence for a sinister purpose as directed by the person or persons to whom he is now indebted.

That is, there is a revealing of how the O9A often operates, and has operated, in the real world; and how O9A people are often secretive, with their occult connections, and their interest in the sinister, unknown to colleagues and friends. The title itself gives a clue, for the word greyling is used in reference to Hipparchia Semele (commonly referred to as the Grayling), a type of butterfly found in Britain and one which is ‘a master of disguise and can mysteriously disappear as soon as it lands, perfectly camouflaged’. Hence the title seems to, esoterically, suggest the pairing of the ‘mistress of disguise’ (Fiona) with ‘the owl’ (Mickleman) and which working together will enable sinister deeds to be done, most possibly by Mickleman (under the guidance of Fiona) influencing or recruiting people from within his natural academic environment.”

Thus, this paean to Sapphic love, from Breaking The Silence Down, the novel often considered as making the Deofel ‘quartet’ into a quintet of esoteric novels:

“Blissful, they returned to their home. The rain ceased with their arrival and in the subdued light in the now cramped sitting room of their bungalow, Rachael sat at her piano to transform herself and the night. Diane listened and watched, entranced. Rachael’s playing created a new world and a new woman, and Diane watched this strange woman create from the instrument of wood, steel and tone a universe of beauty, ecstasy and light.

Bach, Beethoven – it made no difference what or for how long she played. But, as it always had since that night, Beethoven’s Opus 111 fascinated her with feelings, visions, and stupendous, world-creating thought. It imbued her with insight, and a love that wanted to envelope Rachael and consume her.

It was pleasure and pain to watch Rachael transform herself through the act of her playing into a goddess she would die for. No reason touched her while she listened. There was, she knew, no greater life than this, no greater feeling and she wanted to immolate herself with Rachael’s ecstasy, immolate world upon world with this glory and passion which no male god described.

Then the silence, while clamoured notes faded and dimmed light framed. There were no more tears Diane could cry and she waited while Rachael slowly rose and offered her hand. She – the goddess within – was smiling and Diane allowed herself to be led. The music in her head, the memories and secret dreams of youth: all were before her, embodied in flesh and she had only to kiss the slightly scented lips or see the secret wisdom hidden in the eyes to reach the summit of her life, slowly, in the dim corners of the bedroom’s reflected dark.”

Given that most O9A critics have never bothered to read the O9A “deofel quintet” – or, if they have, have miserably failed to appreciate its esoteric significance – it is not surprising that they have such a biased, mundane, view of the O9A.

TWS Nexion
December 2018 ev

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Related:
The Deofel Quartet

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O9A: The Dark Art Of Shrenching

Order of Nine Angles

O9A

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O9A: The Dark Art Of Shrenching
(pdf)

Those curious about the Order of Nine Angles (ONA, O9A) who turn toward the four fictional stories that make up The Deofel Quartet expecting to find ‘horror’ stories or stories of bloody satanic sacrifice, or graphically described sexual or fetishistic satanic rituals, or de Sade like violence, sadism, and dominance, may well be disappointed […]

Nowhere is the dissonance between such expectations – of stories of horror, blood, sacrifice, sex, fetishism, satanic rituals, and sadism – and the Occult reality of The Deofel Quartet greater than in the story titled The Greyling Owl.

This fictional story – of some 130 pages – was published in 1986 ev and is set in and around the English city of York in the year 1976, with the story revealing “how the O9A often operates, and has operated, in the real world” for decades […]

What is described is The Dark Art Of Shrenching, otherwise known as Sinister Cloaking. A difficult Dark, Occult, Art to master involving as it can deceiving others about one’s intentions, and/or entrapping others for some sinister purpose.

In the O9A the most obvious use of The Dark Art Of Shrenching is in Insight Roles […]

Yet The Greyling Owl describes a somewhat hitherto neglected part of O9A tradition. Which is that Shrenching may also be a necessary part of those who, via the Seven Fold Way, have progressed beyond The Abyss and who thus have attained the Occult grade of Master of Temple, or Mistress of Earth […]

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Related:

The Deofel Quartet


To So Acausally Be Alive

Order of Nine Angles

O9A

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To So Acausally Be Alive

They were there even if no human – no human technology – could detect them. There, deep below the surface of that ocean.

But she had dreamed of them, every day for months, and just had to go. Down, deep down, where no human could survive. Would they welcome or ignore her so leaving her to die?

Nevertheless, she dived; she had to dive there from a chartered boat and miles beyond where the ocean left the island of Puerto Rico far far behind. Dived in her wet-suit, in her life-giving mask with her deep-sea tanks of breathable Earth atmosphere strapped upon her human back.

But no one – no human, no alien being or beings – came to save her. And so she descended, unconscious, down deeper down, until her human life left her and her body touched, deathly fell upon, the dark abyssal ocean floor.

But something – something strange and not quite human within her – somehow remained alive; unseeing, unthinking in human words; and needing no breathable atmosphere to live. For some-thing within her was somehow aware in a non-phenomenal, unhuman, way of some type of non-body dwelling living beings surrounding and welcoming her, there.

She, the human, was dead. A mere corpse to be fed upon by such sightless sea – ocean-dwelling – denizens as had evolved to exist in such a watery unlit deep.

But the un-human part of her was home, at last. Home and now living in those acausal, those timeless, dimensions where some of her Earth-seeding ancestors still lived. For as she then so wordlessly understood every descended semi-human being had to mortally, to causally, die in order to so acausally live.

Rachael S.
2018 ev


Article source: https://sinistervignettes.wordpress.com/2018/08/21/to-so-acausally-be-alive/


Order of Nine Angles Occult Fiction

Order of Nine Angles

O9A

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O9A Occult Fiction
(pdf)

The pdf document contains three classic Order of Nine Angles texts concerned with the Occult fiction of the O9A and with the Sinister-Numinous Aesthetic which permeates that fiction. Part of that aesthetic is the pagan, ancestral, rural landscape as described in many fictional O9A stories.

As noted in the text Esoteric Aural Tradition In The Deofel Quartet, included in the compilation,

“In many ways, The Deofel Quartet and other O9A [Anton Long] written fiction (such as Hangster’s Gate), present much of the diverse aural traditions as AL received them: as stories about people, their interactions; their ‘satanic’ or esoteric views and beliefs; and about certain events that involved those people. In The Deofel Quartet he simply reworked the factual material – as writers of fiction are wont to do – in order to make an interesting story, in the process obscuring the identities of those involved and sometimes their place of residence or work; added some entertaining details (as in the ‘astral battles’ between goodies and baddies in Falcifer, of a kind now familiar – decades later – from the Harry Potter stories) and concatenated certain events in order to provide ‘action’ in a limited time-frame.

Thus, the fictional stories not only compliment other O9A material but provide a ‘different way into’ the complex O9A mythos; a way that many will find more interesting (and certainly more entertaining) than thousands of pages of sometimes polemical and sometimes ponderous O9A factual texts, and a way that especially places the O9A’s satanism into perspective, Aeonically and otherwise.”

T.W.S.
129 yf
(March 2018 ev)

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Related:

The Deofel Quartet

Eulalia: Dark Daughter Of Baphomet
(pdf)

O9A Sinister Vignettes
(External Link)


The Sinisterly-Numinous Aesthetic

Baphomet by Richard Moult

The Sinisterly-Numinous Aesthetic
(pdf)

We present here version 1.03 of a collection (in pdf format) of some extracts from articles which deal with the sinister-numinous aesthetic of the Order of Nine Angles. As the extracts reveal, significant manifestations of this aesthetic occur in the Occult fiction of the Order of Nine Angles, that still rather neglected aspect of ONA Occult culture.

For their Occult fiction not only reveals and explains the unique sinister-numinous aesthetic of the O9A, but also provides:

“a different way into the complex O9A mythos; a way that many will find more interesting (and certainly more entertaining) than thousands of pages of sometimes polemical and sometimes ponderous O9A factual texts, and a way that especially places the O9A’s satanism into perspective, Aeonically and otherwise.”

Other manifestations of the aesthetic are O9A specific archetypes, The Art Of The Insight Role, and Sinister Chant.

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Contents:

° A Note Regarding The Sinister-Numinous Aesthetic Of The Order Of Nine Angles
° The Occult Fiction Of The Order of Nine Angles
° O9A Aural Tradition And The Deofel Quartet
° Appendix: Missing The Sinister Angles, Again


House Of The O9A

O9A
House Of The O9A

 

She knew there was something wrong as soon as she entered the house. The dim light; the smell; the damp dilapidation born of decades of neglect. Once, a century or so ago, it must have been a warm, a welcoming, Edwardian family home, detached from its similar neighbours by its own gardens in that street of a seaside town, and built of stone quarried locally with stained leaded glass around the front door and fireplaces in every room and a wooden staircase winding its way to the two upper stories where perhaps several generations of children had slept, dreamed, and happily played.

But now: now, she shivered as he, that man of some thirty years and beginning to bald, led her toward and into a rear room whose large grimy window showed a small overgrown town garden and a Cherry tree whose dying leaves seemed reluctant to fall even though a cold November wind swayed them violently to and fro. And looking, seeing, feeling, how those leaves seemed to so tenaciously still cling to life she, then so young, sensed something that made her recoil from that window. For, although she did not yet know that every room in that house concealed a body – each in various stages of decomposition or mummification – she felt in that moment their torment (their death, decay) singing, reaching, out to her.

She should have been next, for her room – upstairs – was ready with sheets and shroud freshly starched; but she had in her listening to their soft lamenting voices turned that few seconds required to see him lunging toward her, a long hunting knife in his hand. Then, somehow, in some way, he was gasping; awed – as his face and eyes showed – by her sudden movement, with the blood of his life spraying out from his chest. For in her turning and in her life-affirming strength she had caught and deflected his arm sufficient for the blade to be pointed inward upon himself. She stood back, then, to watch his falling and the life draining from him. And when, not long after, he was dead with that now bloodied knife sticking out of his chest she felt she heard some ghostly chorus singing of their thanks.

She left him there, as seemed only fitting, quietly closing the front door as she walked slowly away out in the last fading sunlight of that November day knowing what it was that she must do and where she must now live.

A year later that same English seaside town found her, returned from her worldwide travels. Still young in appearance – although not in her eyes – she might have gone unnoticed as she athletically ran along the promenade that, for over a mile, skirted the bay then at that hour on that day home to a calmful sea of a late October high tide. Might have gone unnoticed, were it not for the fact that her pink running attire, her apparent effortless running style, her lithe body, and her dark hair (gathered by a band and swaying side to side from her slender neck as she ran), garnished a particular type of attention from some men, and from the occasional woman. She did not mind this attention – even enjoyed it, given her new persona – and she was nearing the end of that morning run, slowing down as passed through the nearby park that led to her house, when she saw the attack.

A young man, taking advantage of the deserted park, was grasping the handbag of an elderly woman who refused to let it go. He punched that elderly lady, then kicked her as she fell to the ground.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Ceridwyn said to him.

Startled – for he had not seen nor heard her approach – he stopped, then arrogantly smiled. But she calmly, softly, touched him on his shoulder, the merest touch, and he stooped as if tired, exhausted, before – with his his eyes downturned – he shambled awkwardly away while she, after helping the woman to her feet, continued up that slight slope through the trees that led past the wrought-iron Victorian park gate to her welcoming Edwardian-built home.

Soon the Cherry tree in that small tidy town garden – fructified last December by fresh, and old, compost – might once again be reluctant to give up its leaves, and she would sit, by the window and a warming fire, dreaming of, and planning, new sinister adventures. And she would that evening smile, in her O9A house, thinking of that mugger and the nightmares that would now haunt his dreams for years and years to come. Or maybe, just maybe, she would take him and soon for her third opfer.

O9A
121 yfayen

Source: Sinister Vignettes From The Order of Nine Angles (scheduled for publication Fall 2014 ev)