I couldn't find a suitable thread for this so I created a new one.
The song's lyrics tells the story of an oxherd who finds his wife ill and tries to comfort her with food, which the woman replies to by serenely explaining the way she wants to be buried after she dies.[4]
The song's imagery is rooted in Cathar symbolism. The oxherd's wife is named Joana, a female version of the name given to Cathar believers before entering spiritual life, and is described as "disconsolate," implying she has not received the rite of consolamentum yet. The meal mentioned contains a radish ("raba", in Occitan), a cabbage ("caulet") and a lean lark ("magra"), referencing the noble families of Rabastens, Caulet and Magrin, protectors of Catharism. Finally, Joana asks to be buried with her head under the fountain, symbolizing the water received in the consolamentum, and mentions a herd of goats, echoing a Gnostic tradition that links Capricorn to the spirit's return to heaven.[4]
In Gnosticism, the vowels are considered a form of the name of the Monad, much like the Hebrew tetragramaton. Examples of this and similar vowel usage is found in the Nag Hamadi Library. Some have suggested that they form a phonic pyramid pointing to heaven.[4] Others believe its true meaning is lost.[7]
Kronos can make a man-child go insane....one stroke at a time....tic......toc.......tic.......toc.....
....absolute void...infinite emptiness...in between every tic......a constant deafening silence between every....toc... Totality in the moment......I wait and my sacrifice arrives to fill my inner vacuousness....wearing wolves skins it brays its willingness....over....and over....tic........toc......a blade on a pendulum slowly, consistently falling, closer.........closer....... Tic.......Toc.......Tic.......Toc......
_________________ γνῶθι σεαυτόν μηδέν άγαν
Satyr Daemon
Gender : Posts : 37196 Join date : 2009-08-24 Age : 58 Location : Hyperborea
time.....it's all about the passage of time....... Tic.....Toc......Tic....Toc.....a repeating pattern that only ends when pathos wanes and the body finally finds pieces of peace.....1........0.......1.......0......1.......0....... The same exact tempo.....the same exact rhythm.........it is Being in Time..... Tic.......toc........Tic........toc.......Tic.....toc..... Constant like light....eternal like darkness.....
Ha! Time passes... and the shaman adds more ingredients to his salad. Tic... toc... tic... toc... A dash of this, a splash of that. He looks around self-consciously as he stirs his brew... like an old warlock at the cauldron. Deep in his cave shadows dance on the walls. I preached the ground-up for decades... but the top isn't going on properly... yet again! It's like one of those damnable Christmas biscuit tins... you can never get the lid back on afterwards! Surely... this time... I've taken out the olives (black holes) and put in some spring onions (superstrings). Surely it can't fail again! How do those damn Jews do it? Woe is unto me! Those rats inverted the world... but my spells will change it back.
From my heady brew will rise die ubermencschen... I lay the ground work for what will follow...
