Love vs Sex 61 (associated w LvS56…true story of demonic possession)

Of the state of mind that M. Barré and the other exorcists we know nothing at firsthand. They left no autobiographies and wrote no letters. Until Father Surin made his entry upon the scene, some two years later, the history of the men involved in this prolonged psychological orgy is completely lacking in personal touches. Fortunately for us, Surin was an introvert with an urge to self-revelation, a born “sharer” whose passion for confession amply made up for the reticences of his colleagues. Writing of these early years spent at Loudon, and later, Bordeaux, Surin complains of being subjected to almost continual temptations of the flesh. Given the circumstances of an exorcist’s life in a convent of demoniac nuns, the fact is hardly surprising.

At the center of a troop of hysterical women, all in a state of chronic sexual excitement, he was the chartered Male, imperious and tyrannical. The abjection in which his charges were so ecstatically wallowing served only to emphasize the triumphant masculinity of the exorcist’s role. Their passivity heightened his sense of being the master. In the midst of uncontrollable frenzies, he was lucid and strong; in the midst of so much animality he was the only human being; in the midst of demons, he was the representative of God. And as this representative of God, he was privileged to do what he liked with these creatures of lower order―to make them perform tricks, to send them into convulsions, to manhandle them as though they were recalcitrant sows or heifers, to prescribe the enema or the whip.

In their more lucid moments the demoniacs would confide to their masters―with what an obscene delight in thus trampling underfoot the conventions which had been an essential part of their personality!―the most unavowable facts about their physiological condition, the most lurid phantasies dredged up from the oozy depths of the subconscious. The kind of relation that could exist between exorcists and supposedly demoniac nuns is well illustrated by the following extract from a contemporary account of the possession of the Ursulines of Auxonne, which began in 1658, and continued until 1661. “The nuns declare, and so do the priests, that by means of exorcism, they (the priests) relieved them of hernias, that they cured them in an instant of the lacerations of the womb caused by the sorcerers, that they caused the expulsion. They also declare that the priests cured them of colics, stomach aches and headaches, that they cured hardenings of the breast by confession; that they checked hemorrhages by exorcism, and, by means of holy water taken through the mouth, that they put an end to bloatings of the belly caused by copulation with demons and sorcerers.                   

“Three of the nuns announce, without beating about the bush, that they have undergone copulation with demons and been deflowered. Five others declare that they have suffered, at the hands of sorcerers, magicians and demons, actions which modesty forbids them to mention, but which in fact are none other than those described by the first three. The said exorcists bear witness to the truth of all the above statements.”      

What a cozy squalor, what surgical intimacies! The dirt is moral as well as material; the physiological miseries are matched by the spiritual and the intellectual.

And over everything, like a richly smelly fog, hangs an oppressive sexuality, thick enough to be cut with a knife and ubiquitous, inescapable. The physicians who, at the order of the Parlement of Burgundy, visited the nuns, found no evidence of possession, but many indications that all or most of them were suffering from a malady to which our fathers gave the name of furor uterinus. The symptoms of this disease were “heat accompanied by an inextinguishable appetite for venery” and an inability, on the part of the younger sisters, to “think or talk about anything but sex.”


Such was the atmosphere in a convent of demoniac nuns, and such the persons with whom, in an intimacy that was a compound of the intimacies existing between gynecologist and patient, trainer and animal, adored psychiatrist and loquacious neurotic, the officiating priest passed many hours of every day and night.

For the exorcists of Auxonne the temptations were too powerful and there is good reason to believe that they took advantage of their situation to seduce the nuns committed to their charge. No such accusation was brought against the priests and monks who worked on Sœur Jeanne and the other hysterics of Loudon. There was, as Surin bore witness, a constant temptation; but it was resisted. The long-drawn debauch took place in the imaginationand was never physical.


 The Devils of Loudun (A true story of demonic possession)

Aldous Huxley           1952        

My First Two Times – 4

When I was in the last stage of working through my dilemma of “selfish” natural order guilt versus “devout” religious sadomasochism torture, I was working as a kennel assistant in my first job ever as an employee at a veterinary hospital. I was bathing, walking, feeding, sweeping, mopping, washing, and cleaning and cleaning and cleaning up, lots and lots and lots of dog shit. But I knew I was in a special place…I just knew it. You could feel the energy. Regardless of the normal strife in a working environment, regardless of having to clean all the time, regardless of whatever bullshit came across the radar screen, I was working in a hospital with doctors who were healers and those healers, may have been doing a job, but they were also healing and fixing and mending and advising and consoling and not just talking, but acting…acting to always try and make things better. It seemed like a family to me and that feeling came to me almost instantly in that environment. The doctors had my respect and it was damn good feeling to be able to bestow my respect upon them without any effort whatsoever… was natural and it was deserved.     

After some period of time on the job, probably six to twelve to maybe even eighteen months, after I had melded into that misfit family of special souls who had come together somehow under that roof, I found myself having discussions with the owner of the hospital and another veterinarian on staff about damn near everything…….and damn near everything always, always, always leads to the topic of sex. I am sure they read my personality and all of the assumptions attached to that reading much better than I realized at the time and I am pretty confident that they both liked me fairly well as an employee and as a person. While my sexual experiences were limited and any mention of such to anyone was kept hush hush by me, my gift of gab and inquisitive nature about everything else was, shall we say, well developed. Thus, the initial topic was probably breeched by them to give me a little friendly jab or shit in a playful manner. Well that did the trick and before I knew it, banter would intermittently fly back and forth between Dr. McKenzie and myself, him usually stating in some creative form that I was “gonna go blind if I didn’t start having sex regularly with my girlfriend” or Dr. Russell, looking perplexed as hell at me while sporting a broad goofy ass grin, just saying “Why would you wait Jeff? Why? I just don’t understand…I just don’t understand.”

It was at this time that I finally severed my dedication and commitment to the Christian faith for the reasons I have expressed above……so now, smiley face, smiley face, smiley face …..woooooo hoooooo…..I became very excited about the potential of having sex with my girlfriend. But, I was still a little nervous and suffering from fear of the unknown. When you are plagued by fear, it is always easier to keep doing what you have been doing….what is familiar to you, than to change, even if that change will bring you greater joy, happiness, pleasure, peace……..or even entrance into the realm of the sweetest Sugar-walls.

Dr. McKenzie and Dr. Russell, intentionally or otherwise, had created stability in my life…it seemed to me that they really respected me, and their friendly jokes had gently and delicately delivered a very important message to my psyche. The message was “lighten up Jeff…you are taking it all way too serious…we know you are trying to be honorable and noble and respectable…but do the math…listen to common sense…look at what your body and mother nature is telling you dude…lighten the fuck up buddy…..we totally get it…but you have to figure it out yourself…. you really, really need to get laid…it isn’t evil or dishonorable… is so, so normal and you should be enjoying your youth having lots and lots of sex…that is what you are supposed to do. “

And it was truly because of my respect for those two veterinarians and their approach towards my situation, which had made me laugh so much, lightening the load of my fear without any judgment or condescension that made me decide it was time, actually way past the fucking time, to remove my chastity belt. I still remember the two of them sitting or walking in or around or through the treatment room while I asked silly questions in preparation for the bedding ceremony. Dr. Russell even drew an anatomical picture on the dry eraser board of the vulva and labia, etc, etc, complete with a clitoris, to explain to me how important that little knob of flesh would be in my attempts to provide maximum pleasure to my girlfriend…..and thus, reciprocating karma sexual pleasure for myself. He certainly did not lie about that point.

I experienced sexual penetration for the first time ever at the age of twenty-one while I lay on my own bed with my first serious girlfriend. We had been dating for about four years. I wore a condom… twice…though both episodes were admittedly shorter than I would have preferred. It was a weeknight and my parents were actually home when we did the deeds. In between the first penetration and the second, we had actually left my room and had gone to sit in the family room to try and watch TV…..we both sat there for a few minutes before looking at each obviously distracted other, and then carefully raced back to my room and the closed door, to enjoy the second penetration. The escapades were very pleasurable….sensual….tender….warm….and full of honest desire, yearning, and respect. I will never forget the beauty and peace and union of that moment…it was overwhelming conformation of natural order being so relevant and proper and important to existence…it was overwhelming conformation to be very, very careful in the future of things, theories, dogmas, peoples, and philosophies that turned natural order upside down on its head to deconstruct your existence, so you can be destabilized and kept off kilter, because though it will drive you mad, it makes you so much easier to manipulate and control.

That was my first first time.


To be continued…

Cribb          2014       

Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 4

The Alpha vs the Bully

You lead by respect or fear.

Overwhelmingly, in our society especially, 98% of people attempt to lead by fear. You see this in their holier than thou approach to others (they may say they believe in freedom, but they really don’t….just their version of freedom) , in their vehement anger at some (which is really anger directed at all), and in their constant efforts to truly destabilize the pack they belong too (work environment, relationships, friendships, family). This destabilization is sometimes overt, but often passive-aggressive in nature and the “bully” (unstable Beta or unstable Alpha) WILL WEAKEN or attempt to weaken all others in the pack to make “everyone” more dependent on them. They will do so as they pretend they are your savior (but they will reinforce your addictions, your insecurities, your anxieties, your excuses, your traps, your limitations….your reasons to never walk away from them or become strong enough to stand on your own as a stable entity independent of them). They will very very rarely speak truth or independent thought because they are truly a “parrot” or a “pretender” of an Alpha. They are not strong enough to possess independent stable thought. Their words and behavior, their bullying techniques are all copied from other neurotics who fucked them over sometime previously in their life. The “bully” doesn’t really believe in stability or balance…..not truly. They honestly, deep down below, believe all of life is a trick or charade and anyone who is preaching stability or balance is really a liar themselves….a more clever deceiver of everyone….an expert at implementing delusion so they may gain CONTROL. These bullies never grow….never find peace because they don’t truly believe what a stable entity or force proclaims. They may find themselves in roles of leadership or being successful in business making millions or leading (conquering) their family, but they are not leaders, they are poisonous despots and they will suffer anxiety, torment, and unease until one of their fearful minions finally “sticks a knife in their deserving back.”

A true Alpha will respect you. They will speak truth to you even when it is not in their personal interest. They will work for your respect rationally and by example, not with brainwashing or the implementation of fear or threat. A true Alpha is a sacrificial entity and this will be apparent in their actions and constant behavior. They want to lift you and the rest of the pack up, making existence better for everyone. They would never ask or suggest that you weaken or delude another for their benefit. They will always give you the same level of respect that they also desire from you or anyone else, for that matter. A true Alpha is not a hypocrite (beyond minor imperfection) and though sometimes their role may be to correct (help) others, this action is always performed with purity of heart and intention for the betterment/ stability/
achievement of peace for that other.

The Alpha lives for themselves through the uplifting and the strengthening of the pack as a whole….the increasing of the quality of life for all.

The bully lives only for their own selfish interests or the group/family they control. They will demonize most who truly implement free will for themselves or others. They put themselves before everyone else in all that they do and really they only care about their isolated quality of life.

Be very, very careful of bullies because you have been taught to except this role as your leader and role-model. You have also been indoctrinated to be paranoid, super-skeptical, and fearful of a true Alpha.


Cribb          2014

My First Two Times – 3

At some point prior to actual penetration, I did institute some sexual behavior with my girlfriend because of my want, need, and desire. The trick for what seemed like an eternity to me was trying to be as sexual as possible without actually being sexual…without crossing that imaginary line that would char me with hell-fire and brimstone, and lock me away forever in the dirty sexual deviant dungeon of hell. So, the desires and forces of pubertal curiosity, lascivious exploration, and hormonal thirst invaded my mind like a virus…entering every cell, trying to rewrite the RNA, so two obvious contradictions could co-exist in my mind at the same time, just like they often did with everyone else…like everyone else except I may have been slightly more clever or more calculating about trying to fool my damn self…..and again, all of this was to achieve the ultimate goal of simply being able to drown in the suffocating pleasure of sex with a beautiful fucking girl while still remaining a reputable “Onward Christian Soldier.” One touch here, one touch there, one kiss here…one lick there… on skin can’t be a problem, right? Kissing certainly does not emulate fucking, right? I mean we aren’t really just fucking with our mouths and thinking how good our gonads might fit together to do the same thing….the same thing, but with both of our whole bodies entering into the twirling, slipping, and sliding dance together…..both of our bodies kissing and consuming one another just like our lips and tongues have been obsessively and compulsively focused upon since that very first uber-respectful and so so so polite kiss. Closer….and closer….and closer with a caress or a touch or a massage until an……accidental…..accidental and definitely unintended, feather-stroke of the genitals just happens to occur…a mere whisper or breeze of the finger tips…and then, my god…..oh my god…..I can’t fucking help myself…I can’t stop….over-powering, blinding…..a possessing need and desire to touch more….rub more….feel more.  Yeah, I played elaborate games of deception myself. Maybe I didn’t fuck my girlfriend, but I certainly tried to push the damn limit as much as anyone. Fear was the only gate keeper strong enough to prevent me from “diving in deep” if you know what I mean. Somehow, even I had convinced myself that I could kiss-fuck, grind, dry hump, pet without and within as long as it was only done with my fingers or tongue, and even simulate sex by rubbing my penis on her labia very, very carefully…as long as I did not slip and fall into those sugar-walls. Penetration into those Sugar-walls equaled damnation and the intolerable guilt of Godly judgment…..rubbing, touching, licking, and even gliding on the outer aspect of those very same  sugar-walls equaled heaven, such heaven for my quivering body….laughing out fucking loud…but so damn true.

My body and the natural order of existence were trying to help my psyche out…actually trying to help stabilize my essence and nurture my soul, but fear… be specific, the fear of God, that loving omnipotent figure of fucked-up-beyond-recognition love, was driving me insane. He supposedly created me with this fucking appetite and hunger to unite physically in union with another soul….created me to be that way….didn’t even give me the choice….created me with a intermittent, but very frequent,  involuntary raging hard-on and hormones that made me damn near blind with desire, but…..but…..but, out of God’s love, out of his infinite wisdom, mercy and grace, I was suppose to deny those very same instincts that that sick, sick bastard had hardwired into my eternal soul. What a fucking sadomasochist…….this God that I was trying to follow and honor and love with all of my heart and effort, was perpetually torturing my ass with the lustful sin and the associated guilt that he had made damn sure to package within my mortal frame. This unsolvable crux, this irrational dilemma, this image of “Our Father who art in heaven” finally severed my ties with Christianity forevermore. Whatever excuse….whatever type of warped explanation someone else might proffer, whatever else is supposedly to blame, I finally came to see these contradictions in the only way that I could possibly see them; full of madness, insanity, and cruelty; patterns and rationale in the utmost, obvious, and direct contrast and violation of simple natural order. Such a thing, whatever it is, theory, philosophy, advice, religion, or mandate, cannot be consistent with a healthy existence, balance, or state of peace. It simply cannot be allowed to poison and torment your soul.     


To be continued…

Cribb          2014                                              

Love vs Sex 60

Cribb Comment: I honestly believe that the point Rand so eloquently describes below is one of the major, if not the primary, reason(s) that creates disruption and confusion in the relationships that I have personally attempted to foster. I respectfully remind and emphasize to the reader that this author is a woman, an Alpha, and a person possessing a very high level of awareness. She is also describing her vision of the ideal man in this passage. In other words her description is not a critique of the heroic (male) character, but an illustration of how his idealness is interpreted by others (the herd or masses of humanity). The female in the passage (the questioner) is explaining the general “programmed” feeling and visceral anxiety/fear that the masses perceive when they find themselves simply in the presence of an honest entity that lives life with its due true respect and to its fullest potential. The passage is not suggesting that the heroic character (male) is actually “un-normal” or “so damn serious” or “old” or “uncomfortable”. It is not. It is saying that his presence is so full of life…true life and respect and awareness, and that the rest of the world has chosen to be so unaware, so oblivious, so insignificant, and so empty in their lives, that his presence makes this painful truth too obvious to them when he is in their company. He is not forcing her to make a choice, but his aura or gravity refuses to allow her to remain deluded from the madness and insanity of the rest of the world. She suffers anxiety and fear feeling trapped between one entity (our heroic male) that is actually truly alive and the opposing communal comfort of “rest of the world” that she has always been taught is normal, when in reality they are dead, empty, and numb.      



“Do you always have to have a purpose? Do you always have to be so damn serious? Can’t you ever do things without a reason, just like everybody else? You’re so serious, so old. Everything’s important with you; everything’s great, significant in some way, every minute, even when you keep still. Can’t you ever be comfortable―and unimportant?”


“Don’t you get tired of the heroic?”

“What’s heroic about me?”

“Nothing. Everything. I don’t even know. It’s not what you do. It’s what you make people feel around you.”


“The un-normal. The strain. When I’m with you―it’s always like a choice. Between you―and the rest of the world. I don’t want that kind of a choice. I don’t want to be an outsider. I want to belong. There’s so much in the world that’s simple and pleasant. It’s not all fighting and renunciation. It is―with you.”          


The Fountainhead

Ayn Rand          1943

Love vs Sex 59

“They want to know what I do with my time. I tell them that sometimes I just sit and think. But I won’t tell them what. I’ve got them running. And sometimes, I tell them, I like to put my head back, like this, and let the rail fall in my mouth. It tastes just like wine. Have you ever tried it?”

“No, I―”

“You have forgiven me, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” He thought about it. “Yes, I have. God knows why. You’re peculiar, you’re aggravating, yet you’re easy to forgive. You say you’re seventeen?”

“Well―next month.”

“How odd. How strange. And my wife thirty and yet you seem so much older at times. I can’t get over it.”


Fahrenheit 451

Ray Bradbury          1950

Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 3

But looking back and up, from our vantage point on the descending road of modern history, we now see that all the evils of religion can flourish without any belief in the supernatural, that convinced materialists are ready to worship their very own jerrybuilt creations as though they were the Absolute, and that self-styled humanists will persecute their adversaries with all the zeal of Inquisitors exterminating the devotees of a personal and transcendent Satan.

Such behavior-patterns antedate and outlive the beliefs which, at any given moment, seem to motivate them.

Few people now believe in the Devil; but very many enjoy behaving as their ancestors behaved when the Fiend was a reality as unquestionable as his Opposite Number. In order to justify their behavior, they turn their theories into dogmas, their bylaws into First Principles, their political bosses into Gods and all those who disagree with them into incarnate devils.

This idolatrous transformation of the relative into the Absolute and the all too human into the Divine, makes it possible for them to indulge their ugliest passions with a clear conscience and in the certainty that they are working for the highest Good. And when the current beliefs come, in their turn to look silly, a new set will be invented, so that the immemorial madness may continue to wear its customary mask of legality, idealism and true religion.


The Devils of Loudon

Aldous Huxley           1952