The Highs and Lows of Love

Love is the universal elixir, the stuff of life, the most potent psychoactive substance. It’s highly prized by the secret powers who run the world from their citadels, some on Earth, some above, and some below. The dark powers favor the baser kinds of love, which are more suitable to their indiscriminate palates; the lowest demonic creatures feast happily on nothing but carnal sex, devoid of love in any form save the strictly semantic.

The highest powers, by contrast, are most delighted by the purest spiritual love, which is also the most ecstatic. Incarnate people tend to disbelieve this, because they think that real pleasure comes only from the body. The most credible evidence to the contrary comes from people who have the good fortune to experience erotic encounters while out of the body; the merely physical act is so pale in comparison ever afterwards that they practically lose their taste for it. The same holds true for the universe itself: Spirit is the real thing, the source of light and love and power, while matter is simply the shadow, the shade, the reflection.

In the unhappy era when the Earth and her people are at the end of the long downward swoop of the cycle of time, the world is dominated by beings of the crudest nature, including those in human form as well as ugly monstrosities in the nethersphere. The people are numb to anything beyond the material realm, so they become the playthings of these powers. They have lost the use of the higher faculties, and so they helplessly indulge their lust for the goodies that degrade them to the status of factory farm animals, fed upon by creatures who relish the pungent energy of sleaze.

The power of the forces of light is still the greater, but now they hold themselves aloof from the masses for the same reason that you wouldn’t wish to walk through a sty or a stable that hadn’t been cleaned in half an aeon. The will of the people is to wallow in the filth ~ or it would be, if they had any vestige left of such a human attribute as real will. Even the Gods themselves could only contend in vain against such despicable slack, and so the high ones simply forebear as they prepare for the inevitable day when the tether finally snaps and the crap gets flushed.

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