Pay no attention to your impending fate cucks. Lear at the brightly colored box we told you to spend your pathetic pay on. Drink your lightly flavored beer and throw your half eaten bag of greasy thin potato crisps at the screen in a rictus of rage. Lusciously lavish your hot and spicy chicken wings with the love you never gave towards your family or your own fitness. You are ever more the man the harder you FAN.
Gather at your local parishes, your cathedrals, your halls of worship. Buffalo Wild Wings, Hooters, Generic Sports Bar (C). That’s right cuck, that waitress is into you. Give her a big tip and maybe she will smile at you the way your wife never will. Wipe your greasy fingers upon your napkin covered rotundity, drink your beer and yell harder, it helps your team!
Wear your jersey with pride. That mans name on the back is your idol and you pay him the homage he is due. With well hidden lust you imagine meeting him, your wife in tow. You holding his jersey with signature, drooling with pride, while your wife, the willing sacrifice is taken to be pleasured. Hopefully she will tell you about it later while you hold the jersey and dream. Wetly.
Manage your fantasy team with pride! Only your brilliant direction can take the idea of staring at tightly clothed men and counting how many inches they ran on average and make it into a badge of honor. Listen to the genius analysts in finest suits talk for hours about who can run .3 seconds faster. Dream of the new shoes your hero will wear as they run across a meticulously maintained grass field. No one can count the yards a swine skin bladder moves better than you.
Watch as men years younger than you pretend to be students and you pretend to be a man. Cheer them on as they mock you and everything you stand for. Send money to the school so that your daughter can pleasure them, perhaps she will tell you about it later. Maybe one day you will experience the nirvana that is the wonderful pride a grand parent feels when their daughters becomes brood sow to a student-athlete.
If the cucks who scream at games knew they were giving their worshipful prayers would they still continue? They would cuck all the harder.
The United States of Cuckmerica stands in awe at this moment of historic decision. One one hand we have a golden fleeced combover leading a mouth breathing, knuckle dragging horde of racist, misogynistic, homophobic, cis-gender, white males. On the other hand we have a beautiful and powerful woman, robed in the most glorious of pant suits, courageously fighting through a host of ailments, all the while supporting her philandering husband and taking loving care of her ever so sexy aide-de-camp.
The sweet, sweet sound of lingering lesbian lips are the hallmark, the key to unlock a rainbow door into the bright light of the future vision of Cuckmerica. Glorious transgender minority other kin, sodogamy activists, militants scissoring dykes, and all other oppressed peoples will finally band together and overthrow the shackles of the oppressive white males. Will the floundering cucks succumb to their testosterone poisoning or willingly ingest their estrogen and submit to their destiny of petulance?
A wheel within a wheel spins and a cucktastrophe lingers, waiting in the wings. As ultimate victory looms, a tear in the fabric of the beatific media generated reality brings a warning. With out a single doubt Black Lives Matter, and Cuckball must be watched, but how dare these deplorable white men dare raise a stink about their final spiral into extinction? What nerve to challenge our narrative? Don’t you fools realise your wives are your better halves? Happy Wife Happy life right?
Moloch stands with Hillary. The sweat savor of dead fetal flesh is the pinnacle of our great brass god. We stand in awe as he converges a host of otherwise would be foes; Muslims, Sodomites, Cucks, Lationos, Transgenders, BLMs, otherkins, Furrys, Fat acceptance, Social Justice Warriors. All are welcome, they only need sacrifice their children to our lord. And without fail they all do.
The only hold out to a utopia of delicate unborn delectables is the pathetic deplorables who are unwilling to accept their cuckish fate. We have used the magic talisman words on them, RACYCISS, HOMOPHOBE, CIS-GENDER FUCK. They aren’t working anymore. Moloch demands more souls so that the precious magic can return. We must shame them into submission.
The “males” of the Cuckpublican party dream only of standing true to their glorious voyeuristic nature both in their bedroom and in politics. They long to have their nation taken from them as they self pleasure into an orgiastic cuckgasm. The final dream of the cucked white men is to have vibrant youths rape them to death in front of their wives. Their final earthly vision is the welcome arms of Moloch. Moloch is with her.
Tantalized by the ancient ceremonies of our master, you feverishly long for the interpretation of this modern dream of abortion. Await no longer. Moloch has blessed me with the knowledge to translate the old into the new, and show just how you too can be a devoted follower of the horned bull.
TEMPLE OF MOLOCH
The Old temple of Moloch was a work of art an artistic creation, made by a blessed disciple.
The New temple of Moloch lacks the grace and sophistication, but is far more precise and orderly. In addition, its very inconspicuous nature allows it to process thousands more sacrifices than ever previously imagined.
IDOL OF MOLOCH
The ancient Idol of Moloch could have been anything from a wicker statue of a bull to a great brass creation. The new idol is far less intimidating at first blush. But when you understand that the full weight and might of the United States of Cuckmerican’s armed forces will literally kill you for offending a woman’s choice, the bull looks downright friendly.
As you can see, there is no face, so that every woman can imagine herself a modern day princess. Grande Mocha Chino Latte Enema in on hand and Social Umbilical Affirmation Device in the other.
THE PRIEST OF MOLOCH
The old priest wore what was considered reverent and holy garments. The were meant to inspire awe and fear. Since the citizens of Cuckmerica are so jaded and flippant little will inspire real awe in them aside from brushed with celebrity. The new priest wears a utilitarian outfit, easy to clean, efficient to use. It lacks the pomp and splendor, but the blood from the infants is so much easier to wash off.
THE SACRIFICE OF MOLOCH
The old days were full of pomp and zeal. The child to be burned was usually awake and screaming, the horns blew, the drums beat. A glorious oblation to Moloch and the child was burned to a cracked cinder.
The new sacrifice is usually still in Utero while the service is completed. But still we can take fascination in the clinical savagery of stirring salt into the infant’s brain and pulling it out with a powerful suction tube,
THE DEVOUT OF MOLOCH
The old devotees of Moloch were rich women who had dalliances with men not their husband and wanted to hide the cuckoldry. Or they had bastards they were ashamed of. Or they simply wanted to maintain their life style and not take care of a child. Reasonable decisions all.
The new Moloch devotee is very similar. The difference is even poor women can now sacrifice their offspring through the generous donations to the United States of Cuckmerica’s wealth redistribution network. Even those who don’t worship Moloch support him!
All the Illumined rejoice. We all know that in the holy war against straight white men, erstwhile enemies will join forces to warp and destroy the foe. Even after the living embodiment of islamic pride in Florida, some cucks will joyfully say that Islam is the religion of peace. Even though the irony of the cucks self delusional idiocy is a great balm and source of enjoyment to Lord Moloch, he does like to see his children unite to fight a common foe. As if divine intervention were made manifest, our lords dearest wishes some to life. A devoted practitioner of perversion sides with a follower of Islam in a bid to castigate and castrate a willing nation of cucks.
No doubt most are well aware of the Cuckmerican football player, Keapernick, who is horribly underpaid and oppressed and thusly forced to courageously laugh in the face of his cuck fans by not participating in their religious act of patriotism.
The pathetic eunuchs shed salty tears and weep into their light beer. “How dare this man not participate in my simulated masculinity subimination!” The cucks will stomp their feet in pretend anger and then send their sons and daughters to die to defend his right to take their money from them. Glorious.
The glorious of Islam is a wonderful antagonist to our perverse allies. While their holy book does not specify in which way the gay must be terminated,they seem to take a particular glee in using gravity and tall buildings. Clearly there is much entertainment to be had from the sudden stop.
Enter our scissoring hero. Sporting a beautiful and feminine hairstyle, bearing a gold medal as the best her country has to offer, our female goddess is a role model for all cuck fathers to show to their daughters. Who wouldn’t want their daughter to be part of the scene below. Love wins, love is real, all you need is love. And love is two women rubbing their genitals together until the friction causes one of them to eat an entire bag of doritos in a sitting. Love is also a frying pan. In your lovers face.
With all of the animosity between these two, the Muslim and the Dyke, Muhammed and Ishtar, what could possibly bring them together in blessed unity? Only the machinations of our blessed lord Moloch and their hatred of the straight white men.
Some fearful cringing meat sacks limply cried that precious human life would die amidst the cloudy desolation of a nuclear sacrifice (holocaust to the uninformed cucks reading). Preposterous. Moloch’s sulfur tears of joy rain to the earth upon the realization that the end of humanity will begin with “men” such as this licking the sexual detritus from the weeping love chanal of their goddesses. Braying about sentencing their existence to extinction, prideful in ending their own genetic line.
The illumined have long worked towards this ultimate goal, to control the chattel upon which we feast, not through the dangling carrot, or the threatening stick, but through their own literal life-force abnegation.
Gaze in open wonder at the miracle that lord Moloch has wrought. Well beyond Black Lives Matter, the cucks now openly desire their own genocide.
“Today has been a reminder of the irony that those concerned about the “extinction” of the white race are
the best argument for its demise.” The cuck crows once. We take these powerful self fulfilling words, manna from the mouth of Moloch and replace them with other beautiful words of power…
Dearest Readers, here is a guest post from one Mrs. Silence Dogood.
And now this. As most of you know, lord Moloch hath proclaimed the anointed half-breed raised out of white guilt and self-hatred of the wrong ones, Colin Kaepernick, has recently seen fit to stay seated during the Anthem of America. Indeed, Moloch sees it as good, as the last thing the wretched tools of the lord need is to have pride in a country that provided them so much. But do not think, low followers, that you have not something to give for the cause. Do not think that you need be successful, well liked, athletic, or attractive to help our cause. Do not think that you have not the words, nor the intellect, nor logic, nor even a good argument to bear. Moloch doesn’t need these, nor want them; he only asks your undying allegiance to him and his adoration. Want proof?
Take the recent article in fox news where Failure Singer John Legend calls the national anthem “weak.” He is right, for the strength it takes to fight while “bombs bursting in air” is nothing compared to the strength it takes to sit down for 1:44 after coming from a brisk 68 degree locker room after loosening up with swedish massage. That takes guts. But Back to our beloved Social Justice Warrior; this Franklin the Turtle look alike, with chia-pet hair carefully held in place with copies amounts of petroleum product meant for gay anal poundage is right in every sense of the word. He even found lyrics that don’t exist in the song which back our cause. When confronted with a ridiculously logical argument, that Colin’s argument was never about the lyrics in the first place, he replies in true rhetoric fashion, that it “wasn’t about the lyrics, it was about the value of lives of people of color in america.” BOOM! Take that, bitch! Use of the word “of” three times in one sentence and reinforcing the idea that only the lives of some count to lord Moloch. Praise him! and death to the witch, who believed she was good for anything other than sexual animalistic gratification and reproduction for the “vibrant youths,” which her cuckold hubby doth “accepted” as neighbors.
Father’s Day. A day when scorn and indignation are heaped upon all men from all angles. Instead of BBQ’s, golf clubs, and ties, we are gifted scorn, contempt, and condescension. Pastors say: “Man up and marry those single moms who wouldn’t give you the time of day in their 20’s” (Marc Driscoll). Baby Boomers screech “Go to college and get an education and then work your ass off at your job”. A job that treats you as a fungible asset and will lay you off as soon as their quarterly earnings reports are due. They forget to tell you about the fun of student loan debt that is non dispersible through bankruptcy (Student loan debt non-dischargeable). “Ask not what your country can do for you but what you can do for your country” they chide, a country that hates straight white men and wants desperately to see them destroyed. Be proud of your culture, a culture that gives no respect to men. Find a good woman, get married and have kids with used up sluts that love initiating divorce (70%) as a pathway to EPL nirvana. Previous partners (even 1) are likely to signal divorce, and a horrible sex life (N>0 is a no go). This is a net, a web, a veritable matrix, created for just one purpose, to enslave the minds of men.
Allow me to untangle this filthy web of shit, line by fecal line. Preface, if you marry a single mother out of love and understand the risks and obligations you are taking on, and consider it a service unto God (Jehovah) carry on soldier. But for everyone else, when rectal breath Marc Driscoll unloads this crap-sandwich “After all, Jesus’ mother was a single mom until Joseph married her and adopted Jesus.” it induces nonstop dry heaving followed by internal hemorrhaging (Marc Driscoll). So Joseph was cuckolded by the holy ghost? You should watch yourself there “pastor”. Matthew 12:31 says, “Wherefore I say unto you, all manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men: but the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven unto men.” By calling the incarnation of the one true lord and savior an act of cuckolding you may have just achieved the one unforgivable sin. The bottom line is this, quit telling us who we are obligated to marry. We just got told for our entire lives what a sacrifice and obligation marriage is, that our wives don’t have to have sex with us if the mood isn’t perfect, don’t have to do what we say but we sure as hellfire have to sacrifice literally everything for them, so don’t you self-righteous prigs dare to tell us who the hell to marry. I don’t have to be a slave, but if i choose to be one, I will pick my own master.
Why work hard? Why go to school? So I work my tail off going to college, working third shift so I don’t go into debt to get some stupid piece of paper that says I can follow the rules? And then once I get a job at some company that would happily trade me for a H1-B visa from India at half the price? And now I have debt that will literally follow me right down into hell, or jail, whichever comes first. Thanks to the sax playing favorite President of the Baby Boomers there is no escape from college loans, ever. And unlike drugs no one ever said to be careful, instead our parents whored out our future for us to rot our brains in communist indoctrination camps in return for our eternal indentured servitude. Sucks to your Ass-mar. We don’t need your “Schooling” and we don’t need your “hard work” or your damn status whoring “piece of paper” you call a degree. Fuck off and die.
Now that we have our DEGREE (or you could call it confirmation of worship at the altar of state education) we can start courting the available dating pool. A selection of lazy land whales, saddled with all the college debt we just might have been smart enough to avoid. Girls who had gangbangs in college, but “aren’t like that anymore” and saved their limp starfish sex just for us. They think they are princesses. Guess what princess, fuck you! No really. I mean it, fuck you, and your cuck entitlement teaching beta father and all the bitch boy beta orbiters who taught you to say “I deserve” like a damn religious mantra. You are useless disgruntled cunt at your worst, and your best is still a shit sandwhich. When you greedy stuck up bitches can look at a mother of 4 living in a suburban house and feel for her like you do a chemo victim (Princess Experience), well “fuck you forever until you rot in hell” just isn’t strong enough.
So maybe just maybe after I take on a host of debt I don’t want to live in some stupidly large McMansion for princess just so eight years later she can take the house, the car, and the kids from me? That I can be on the hook for whatever the hell amount of money some shit bag judge says I should pay? That’s why I should man up? To have supervised visits with my children once a month? Fuck you very much.
So now you can look at us and call names, racist, misogynist, homophobic, limp dick basement dwelling Xbox addicted, virgin faggots. We are the untermensch, the men you expect to hold up your hair as you vomit up the remnants of last night’s partying while you were getting gangbanged by the lacrosse team. You expect us to marry you after you drank gallons of cum from the football squad. You want us to buy you a house and a car and give up our friends after you video yourself-doing a threesome with your bestie and a basketball player. You’ll scream “you just hate women” and we laugh as the shaming garbage chute you call your mouth fails to hurt us. After watching our own mother shit down the throat of the family she decapitated we start to replace the word Princess with Bitch. Whore. Fucking Slut. Cunt. You can’t squeeze any more blood from this turnip. Man up? We did when we told you to fuck off and die.
So here we are as a generation, held aloft by our collars, not caring in the least. Degraded, derided, called racist, misogynist, homophobic, lazy, useless, the psychological punches to the face still hurt but they no longer inspire fear. So here you stand culture, and with all of your strength what can you do to us? You have nothing, nothing to threaten us with. You have taken away the chance for a family, the chance for a loving wife, the chance for a career, the chance for a country. Your movies, TV, commercials, and propaganda no longer inspire shame. They inspire apathy, no, they inspire hate. This country, this culture, is more cancer than it is body. There is no cure and it must die. We don’t just want to watch your world burn, we want to start the fire.
Moloch is pleased by the media’s and the populus adherence to the beautiful campaign of #blacklivesmatter. Few contribute more to his worship. Blessed are those who produce and sacrifice their children! Moloch even now prepares a bountiful harvest for them to reap, a repayment in blood. Margaret Sanger weeps with pain and joy deep the in the bowels of hell, secure in the knowledge that her plan to butcher blacks has not only been accepted but followed and fought for by her very targets. There is no end to the fountain of blood. Moloch cares not from whence the blood, only that it flows.
Strangely, the human wave of violence and destruction seeks most often to harm its own habitat. The death and carnage are nourishing to our lord, yet the fat of the land, the cuck underbelly remains untouched. Sylville Smith’s sister, an ardent Moloch devotee said it best, “Y’all burning down sh*t we need in our community. Take that sh*t to the suburbs. Burn that sh*t down. We need our weave.” Indeed, they do need their weave, and the pathetic cucks in suburbia will supply it to them either voluntarily or at gun point.
The current riots and violence are a bountiful harvest, but Moloch ever hungers. How to increase this is and always will be the goal. An EBT shutdown on OCT 12, 2013, planned for 11 states was the first preview of how to accomplish this. The violence and hate on display after only 12 hours of entitlement cut-off were extraordinary. Image 24 hours, 48, 72, a week.
There is bonanza of soft white cucks begging to be killed and eaten, thirsting sexually for their wives and daughters to be raped. Prepare for Glory! How many straight white men have to die to make up for slavery? All of them. How many white women have to be raped? MOAR! There is no end, there is no final victory. The retribution will not stop and Moloch will not be sated. Feed these fires, let them burn.
Since the Orlando Worship Festival a host of patently silly ideas ranging from funny to funnier has emerged, each as separated from the truth as the last. The “official” story is just as ludicrous as well, but the story the public will accept or wishes to believe is as meaningless as the stories are from the event. In the end all events serve the glory of Moloch and all of his children have a part to play.
The illumined know that nothing is beyond the reach of Moloch. Every plot, every scheme, every twisted thought are all part of the maze of collective consciousness, prayers easing their way downwards like sweetest incense. Moloch receives your worship gratefully and yet still hungers.
The living sacrifice, the bountiful offering of sodomic flesh fills the ever yearning nostrils of the Great Brass Bull. Those engaged in an orgiastic expression of the nihilistic hedonism were the perfect willing oblation unto Moloch. The tears and fears created through this event nourished our master, both in the preceding acts as well as culmination. Through this crisis those most in need of self defense will refuse it and strip those most desirous.
Rest assured Moloch does not desire that the beautiful male on male sodommation should stop. No matter how many pink pistols are pressed into the hands of the victims, they will fall limply away from self defense. More importantly these victims will promote further victimization by decrying the very thing that could have saved them. No guns for me and no guns for thee. The irony is a sweet savor unto our lord.
The irony continues as the self loathing perpetrator, the founder of the feast, so-to-speak, may have been a reluctant participant in the festivities. The vibrant Muslim orchestrations (killing) generated 72 crystal clear raisins and more precious souls secured for Moloch. That two dedicated victim classes rose against one another would seem to be a blow to our mission, however this is not the case. A reshuffling on the victim totem pole is to be expected from time to time. This should not be viewed as a setback but as a testament to the perseverance of our worshipers devotion.
Regardless of who kills whom and for what reason Moloch will remain triumphant. Whether this results in a further restrictions of firearms, a retaliation of the Americuck Plebes against musloids, an LBGT gestapo enforcing sodogomous cakes across the nation, the glory of Lord Moloch will only increase.
Hand over your heart cucks, the trumpet is playing taps. Stand in triumphant idiocy, a moronic slowly sinking smile upon your low IQ face. Your virtue signaling has payed off, a wonderful success. Your hindenberg of a national defense burns with the brightness of the sun. Until it is guttered and the inescapable black of night washes over your frail and feeble heart. You find yourself alone in the dark wilderness, those who held the night at bay castigated and castrated, their suffering cheered on by you. And now desperate and full of shame, the terror that you freed has come to claim its due. Moloch cares not from whence the blood flows, only that it flows.
In our previous outing on the subject we started the “10 Military Cuckmandments.” Powers more apt and intelligent have determined that this should be changed to:
Have a series of decades long unwinnable conflicts with no stated benchmarks for victory with varying degrees of legitimacy
An oppressive systems of contradictory Rules of Engagement where there is as much or more fear of prosecution by one’s own nation as death at the hands of the enemy
Delegitimize or remove rites of passage for elite groups
Encourage lawsuits and legalese amongst the soldiers
Destroy esprit de corps through hours of mandatory demoralizing propaganda
Encourage soldiers to not resist but cooperate when being taken hostage
Force Male soldiers to pretend to be something they can never be, pregnant
Force female soldiers to pretend to be something they can never be, soldiers
Make all spaces primarily female and trans friendly
Turn all armed forces into social welfare programs
This beautiful handguide for the illumined is a foolproof plan to take any military organization no matter how powerful or how well funded and eunuch it from the inside. Indeed, the more well funded the better off your infiltration and degradation may go as you can shift the bulk of money from equipment and training to propaganda and needless internal lawsuits as well as an infinity of gender classifications and their respective bathroom needs. Once even a simple majority of these have taken hold the end of the effectiveness of that nation’s army is all but ensured. More over the entire nation is now but a ripe fruit, soft and undefended, eagerly waiting its own harvest.