Oh how the intellectual is complicit in his own enslavement.

This is why George Carlin is wrong.

 

Rather than make God a tyrant…

What His lack provides

Is the force of wills on one another

And the force of wills to the force of blood.

 

Our framers saw democracy as self evident.

That God was a foundation stone for our rights as human beings.

The snide intellectual jeers at right and wrong…

Yet right and wrong were what gave them the freedom to think.

 

If freedom is only found in a gun…

Then it is not freedom.

One man’s gun defines freedom,

Then that freedom means freedom only for himself.

 

Freedom is found in reason.

For then all are able to taste it.

All can see it is self evident.

All can see that Freedom subsists by itself.

Yet… we need God,

Otherwise despotism comes

In Freedom’s wool.

Transubstantiation:

 

It’s a little difficult to understand. I know. But it plays between Milton’s Paradise Lost and Keat’s Hyperion.

Hyperion is about Democracy being overthrown by a Theocratic power. The poem is criticizing Milton’s discourse about faith. Keats is using Milton’s own imagery to say that Satan was not a fallen angel, but was a Titan, and thus, the satire begins there. The imagery is obviously about the Freemasons, who built the American Democracy. It is simply saying that Reason—or rather an age of reason—is superior to one based on power.

Contrast that to Milton, who was misunderstood by Keats. Milton’s criticism was reason’s foray into dangerous ideas. Such things that Satan is depicted as using reason to try and convince his cohorts—and the reader—to be complicit in murder. So, reason in Milton is being akin to justifying crime, which is not far off from actually being the case that reason is beginning to do this. Because we come dangerously close to reasoning away morality as a culture, and also our freedoms.

My poem is using the archetype of Islam as the White Horse, basing it in Keat’s understanding. That Keats is criticizing a Theocratic regime overthrowing the Democracies of America and the emerging ones in Europe. So, I’m ignoring Milton’s schema, to draw a comparison. Hyperion is about the fall of democracy.

The third image is Cesar Borgia. Who, as is often noted, appears in portraits of Jesus. The poem gives a short discourse on Borgia being the factual state of the painting, but one imprints Christ over him because—as the poem will draw a metaphor here—that is who God sees in us. We—by very nature of being fleshly creatures—are like Borgia. We are incredibly wicked. Cesar Borgia is a type of our flesh selves, and the spirit is the image we imprint on the picture of Borgia. No longer is it Borgia that we see, but it is rather Christ. The Poem also complies Caesar Borgia as the builder of the democracies, but rather it is what God has done with it that my poem is interested in.

Underlying that is the same with our democracy. Though it was created with the understanding that Democracy was Satanic, it rather was inverted on itself. The foundation laid by the builders of our democracy was Christ. So by that very reason, Christ was the foundation stone—or philosopher’s stone—of truth. Therefore, though democracy was considered a Satanic regime by many scholars, the foundation of Democracy was principled on Christ when it was established here in America—hence John Locke and others who greatly influenced the founding fathers—so that the society could be constructed and stable, and it wouldn’t collapse itself. Thus, the flesh of the regime was superimposed by Christ, to make it right. It is the same way with Christians. Underneath, in fact, we are corrupt and evil. But, with Christ as our cover, what God sees is Jesus in us. Just like we see Jesus in portraits of Cesar Borgia. Same with the Democracy.

So, the poem “Transubstantiation” is dealing with the removal of that spiritual truth, to uncover the flesh of the truth, and therefore undermine the values we uphold in our democracy. The very appeal to “Fact” evidence is counter intuitive to reason, with two facts. A: Reason requires an ending point, and Christ is that ending point. He is the one who substantiates our values, and doesn’t regress us backward into despotism. What is called a “Philosopher’s Stone.” B: The facts cannot substantiate an ethos. They never could, which was why Christ was used to build the foundation of American democracy; otherwise, freedom would unhinge.

Therefore, the poem “Transubstantiation” is talking about the spiritual self being superimposed on both the individual and society. The fact that men are not perfect, but God uses them. And therefore the White Regime—the false regime—coming in tries to substantiate itself on Power instead of reason. Which, to Keats it would be man’s power being criticized, as I don’t believe he believed in God. But I do for this reason, that what was—as a fleshly thing—deprived and evil can be Transubstantiated into something good, be it Democracy or our own selves. The white regime is trying to hand the reigns back to Caesar Borgia, which is why he’s typed with the White Horse in Revelation. The overthrow of the Red Regime—which Red is often typed as evil, and it’s meant to draw some moral distance—by the white regime is considered bad, because now all that is left is the flesh, which is likened to artificial morality without the Philosopher’s Stone of Christ to hinge reason on.

Hyperion, Caesar, ruler of the red pyramid and obelisk

Allied with Saturn, allied with Memory,

The Brick-Layers, the fallen idols…

 

How you paved your streets with Red Clay,

How you’ve set your jewels

To lay the body of God

To be the straw of your street’s brick.

You found wisdom, o’ Memory

And allied with Hyperion;—

You fought hard to preserve Athens and Rome.

 

White streets—laid with the sands of the shore

And sandstone spires and great shingled roofs—

From there cast all war upon Athens and Rome.

The armies marched, to dreg the dregs

Of Hyperion’s estate, o’ Athens.

The Greek gods, those idle men and women

Not gods at all, threw down the stones

Of the Titans, o’ Athens and Rome.

White was their horse—with the castles of Sandstone—

Who came to conquer.

 

O’ Hyperion, cast down from thy bench in heaven

Cast down, cast down, o’ my soul sees thou art cast down

With all the idols you brought with you.

Those locusts, those chameleons,

Whom Paradise Lost.

For wisdom you championed

To let reason build…

You and Saturn laid down Christ

As the Philosopher’s Stone.

Yet… there were gods among you

O’ Titans. gods who wished to lay

Caesar Borgia as their stone.

For the picture of Jesus we see

It is Caesar Borgia.

 

The man is Caesar Borgia;

The flesh; the god we worship in ourselves.

Willing to tear down the regimes of old

And to build upon the ruins.

Spiritually, we see Jesus working in our hearts…

For we are all, as our flesh

The object in the frame.

So despicable.

We are all Borgia

Yet, God sees Christ in us

So the old man is washed away.

 

The regimes of Wisdom laid Christ as their Philosopher’s Stone…

Though Hyperion built it, though Saturn laid the stone,

Though the obelisk is red, and though the pyramid is large

The Philosopher Stone was Christ.

Thus, this ugly regime which the Bricklayers built

Was seen, in spiritual sense, what is not flesh

But Spirit, and thus made clean.

Though it was Red as Scarlet

It was now White as Snow.

 

However, reason was done away

And the flesh of the painting was all that remained.

The white falsehood of the Sandstone Castles

Which are built tall, where Borgia, the flesh,

Rather than Christ the Spirit

Reigns in all.

If the new man is unseen

Then our Kingdoms fall.

 

And so, the Bricklayers, the Titans

Became the very gods cast down to earth.

They, now, try to build their white city on earth

By the flesh of a man seen in portraits;—

But not our Christ.

 

So… as with men, so with mankind

What was blood red

Let the image of Christ be shed upon us,

So that the old man is no longer seen

Though it factually existed.

Let us show forth as white snow.

Let the goodness of Christ

Shewn from us, and within us,

Who are Transubstantiated into the image of Christ.

Once upon a time,

 

There was an editor

Who thought she did a good job.

She removed from the story

All the important talk.

 

As it was,

She secretly wove her fluff.

But the writer’s was better

And said, “Enough is enough.”

Darrah sits with the scale in her hand

To measure the earth.—

To measure the sand.

Darrah is wooed by the preacher

Whose claims are of a certain sort

But Darrah belongs to the preacher whom wields her lips

To drink of her tongue and honeywine.

 

How the preacher drinks Darrah’s bosom

To spit it back out…

Because Darrah’s hidden parcel

Belongs more to the pleasant reverie

Told by a fireside

Than in any serious, fatal matter.

 

Darrah cannot sway the heart.

She cannot cause the doubtful to stop erring.

She, rather, is a swathed betrothed

Whom when asked a question she can answer.

But if Christ can not be seen in the stars

What is her answer to the one blinded

Whose ears see half of all words?

 

Let the preacher preach kindness

And love.

Let Darrah’s love be told by the fireside

So the little ones do not hear and stumble

When an answer is given.

Who, though, understands the answer?

Certainly not the ones asking questions

They need not answers to.

Not yet. Though this preacher corroborated Darrah’s

Lips, which she whispered into my ear,

Let the sucklings drink milk from Darrah’s bosom

And not the raw rootvegetable

With its skin.

The way which a battle of the such would turn

Is that Voldemort scorns the Nethanim.

 

Because Neither are they of magical blood—

For their powers come from feats of muscular strength

And the knowledge of the Earth’s natural forces—

Nor are they anything but muggles.

 

Thus, to them, the Killing Curse would remain unseen

For they’d neither understand it,

Nor would it kill them.

It might give them a little bit of a tweak in their heart,

But it would not kill them.

 

They’d understand Voldemort as

A Vampire or Orc, whom they would immediately try to behead.

They wouldn’t understand Horcruxes,

But would rather know Voldemort had made a deal

With the Devil for immortality,

And that he comes back with the science of Babylon.

 

Because Voldemort uses his wand

They’d see him just wave a stick.

They wouldn’t understand it

So they would slice him into three pieces.

 

The Nethanim do understand coercions,

Though, so Voldemort’s best bet would be

To try and find a way to control the Nethanim.

But, they are trained mentally and physically

To repel internal and external threats.

 

They would fight through the coercion

And then break through to Voldemort

By slicing him into three pieces.

Should Voldemort come back,

They would know he spat back from hell.

To which, if they found him again,

They’d cut him into three pieces again.

 

Should Voldemort amass a great fortune

To use on the Muggle population

And coerce them to destroy themselves,

The Nethanim would be given charge to fight

Back… for they are the guardians of the righteous

Those who do not practice magic.

 

One Nethanim would kill 10,000 Death Eaters

With the shaking of a spear;

For the realm of Magic is where a Nethanim will become involved

In Muggle affairs.

Should Magical Affairs impede on the Muggle’s life

The Nethanims are called to protect them

For a Nethanim use the knowledge of Faith

To break down magic and its coercions.

Otherwise, the Nethanim stay out of the affairs

Of Magical beings, for they know that these folk

Will soon decay, and wither in the grave.

 

The Nethanim would evangelize to Harry Potter

To ensure he was safe.

They gain power by advancing the Gospel

And they would try and persuade him not to use magic.

For, Harry would show them a spell

And the Nethanim would not see it.

They’d scratch their heads

And seem like they had just seen

Harry do an illusion.

They’d laugh, but then become concerned when Harry believed

In his trick. When this happens

The Nethanim will try and explain to Harry what really happened.

 

The Nethanim are not brutes…

They seek out wisdom and knowledge across the earth.

They see the full realms of God’s creation.

They know hell, heaven, earth,

Space, and realms men have yet to discover.

They understand things quickly

And whether it is good or bad.

Thus, the Nethanim would prefer that Harry

Come to Christ.

For they do not believe in magic.

Rather, they believe in metaphors

And symbols, and ideas…

To them that is what magic is.

 

The Nethanim would not fight Harry…

For Harry, to them, might just be a little queer.

They would rather mentor and tutor him

To explain what he did with his wand.

How perhaps Harry did his trick…

They always figure it out.

Should they find the science of Babylon

They would disassociate from Harry

Knowing he was lost in the wretched vice

Of the Babylonian Kingdom.

They would make a delicate bow

Like to princes, and they’d be on their way.

The Nethanim are not Judges.

They are defenders.