Grail (Part Three)
Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2025 11:59 pm
Douglas Mercer
February 13 2025
Continued from Grail (Part Two)
When Adolf Hitler had these moments of transcendent imagination and the flooding of an expanded consciousness he did what he always did; he reflected on the experience and began to analyze it. He knew enough of history to know that only a select few in his contemporary world had had such experiences, most of them, like himself, artists. He refused to accept that the modern intellect was even remotely comparable to that of our remote ancestors of prehistory; and that what he was experiencing was akin to what they did, when the dividing line between the mind’s eye and external reality did not exist. Thus he knew that he was undergoing the sense of the archaic divine which used to be the common property of all the Aryan race, and thus he was allowed penetrating glimpses of the relationship between cosmos, earth and man; to see everything as in fact it is, infinite.
***
Baron Edward Bulwer-Lyton was the author of The Coming Race, a novel which presupposed that a race was living in the inner earth which was akin to the race of Supermen which was prophesied by Friedrich Nietzsche; he also wrote a novel called Rienzi, The Last Of the Tribunes, a work which inspired Wagner’s Opera of the same name. Rienzi was an Italian nobleman who conspired to bring the power in his Italian homeland to the people. As such he was one of the models for Hitler and it is in accordance with working out of fate that it was Wagner’ opera which first ignited in him his mystical powers. His friend reports the scene where young Adolf first became aware of the world historic destiny which lay before him. After listening to Rienzi with rapt and burning enthusiasm he was mesmerized by the tale of the nobleman whose meteoric rise was the subject of the work. Upon being released from the opera house without thinking he felt the need to be at a height and so he began to climb Freinberg, a hill which overlooked his hometown of Linz; and it was there that he nearly mechanically poured out the prophetic words which were to be manifested so stunningly, so literally.
Hitler took the hands of his friend and gripped them tight. Never before in the many years that the two had known each had Hitler ever made a gesture like that, he being a reserved person from a young age, but now the overflowing of feeling led him make this outreaching of solidarity. His grip and the feverish excitement on his face were signs of how deeply he was moved. But the words which emanated from him in maddening torrents did not flow smoothly as his generally did; but most of all his voice had the tell tale sign of all those who are submerged in and speaking from the sacred hollow of the Total Mind.
That is the voice did not sound like him at all but rather as if some eerie machine-like device were uttering the syllables. The voice seemed to erupt from some secret space, hoarse and rasping. His friend later said that he had never heard Hitler speak as he did at that hour for it was not at all the case as when a person is carried along by his own words, but rather by some mysterious force or inner compulsion which was forming the ideas in the air. Indeed, it seemed as though Hitler himself was a much an audience on their words as was his interlocutor; and that the putative speaker listened with just as much astonishment as the one who was the one spoken to. The voice was an elemental force which burst forth like a dam breaking, like floodwater of words which would carry all before it in its chthonic wake.
And what did Hitler. or the voice which had taken possession of this young man, say? He spoke in simple picture building of himself as a builder, how he would rebuild the city of Vienna first, and then Berlin, and how in far flung provinces he would bring a monolithic architectural style on a grand scale of vistas and vast plains. He painted grandiose visions of the glorious future of his people that he would lead them to. But most of all he spoke of the high and exalted Mandate that he would one day receive from his people; where he would lead them from servitude toward the heights of freedom. But most of all the friend came away from this hypnotic experience thinking that the mandate itself came from the heavens and outlined a special mission which had been entrusted to him; and which he ever after must seek to fulfill.
***
The most significant fact about Adolf Hitler was that he failed; the second most significant fact about him was that what he attempted was unprecedented, that he sought nothing less that global domination forever by the Aryan race and that he did not succeed was a close run thing; the third most significant fact about him is that he is still alive, he was the sacrifice of which the so called crucifixion sacrifice of Jesus Christ is an obscene parody. In the book Look Who’s Back Hitler is speaking to a man who is skeptical of his new plans and the man says darkly: we don’t want to repeat history. Hitler vociferously agrees with the man saying you are so right we don’t want to repeat history. This time we will do it right.
Hitler’s study was always of history and this is why the spear, as a voice from history itself spoke to him so incessantly. All through the years of his late youth he remained a man alone and aloof and one possessed of a monkish asceticism and for him the world of books and of study was the Holy Flame Of Life. A school teacher he had who possessed a nationalistic fervor had taught him history and taught him that it was history itself which was the mother of truth. Hitler wrote that a man who has no sense of history is a man who has no eyes and no ears. His conversation was always laced with historical occurrences and historical analogies and parallels. Indeed, his entire cast of mind was historical and his most primal drive of destiny was derived from his sense of history. And in his ever-increasing moments of heightened awareness, it was history which was seizing him.
***
That the lance had passed through the hands of so many of his great Saxon heroes, the heroes who with will to power had driven them onward, impressed him, fascinated him; but it was the aura and emanation of the spear itself which overwhelmed him. Hitler knew that there was a long and unbroken chain of claimants to this spear and that they were the heroes, the ones who carry out and enact the will of the world, the very overarching plan of Providence.
The first time he came in contact with the spear in a museum in Vienna he was overawed, he looked at it as a man in a trance upon whom some magical spell had been cast. He became flushed and his brooding eyes began to shine as if by the process of some alien presence; rocking back and forth on his feet in a deep and forbidding and inexplicable euphoria. The room around him seemed to him to be suffused with a mysterious irradiation, an ethereal and ghostly light. The transfiguration of this power reminded him of what he had learned of this spear, that whoever possesses it and deciphers its hidden secrets, that man hold in his hand the very destiny of the world—for good or for evil. He resolved then and there never go to give up this ghost.
This was the most important moment of his life, the moment when he came to be inhabited by the transcendent imagination and become its pure and good servant. During the Great War he determined to take insane chances for four long years, as a runner braving the enemy’s fire in no man’s land time after time in order to test this gift of Providence. Was it true? Did what he was experiencing comport with an outer reality? As he escaped death over and over in situations in which other men would have lost their minds he became stronger and stronger; and stronger too in his unshakeable core belief that he was the one the finger of God had chosen to be its pure vessel, that he now could be touched or harmed by nothing, that he was an immortal on the Quest for nothing less than fate itself. When he came to after the mustard gas at the end of the war it was like he was a totally new person born from some mystical chrysalis, able to fly where other men could only crawl; able to see where other men groped along as if with a walking stick.
He came to see that his vision of the swastika and his vision of the sun god were correct; that he was bathing in some kind of swaddling light which was a return of the now alien Aryan consciousness. He observed how thorough the course and sequence of history our race had by steps lost the magical perceptual faculties which he, in his own person, had revived. And that this perceptible loss was due to the mutation of the German people over time, and the mixing and atrophy of blood.
This was the famous attenuation and enervation of the magic of the blood of the race, and the gradual and slow emergence of a strictly materialistic point of view with a hard bright line drawn between the observer and the observed when in fact nothing at all distinguished them. He noted that over the long centuries the race had passed through a cavern of sleep so that the former ages of the Empyrean, when the race had experienced a unified and uncomplicated relationship with the universe had been lost—though not forever, for here and there, in artists, seers or sages, one saw the bright cloud of the Total Mind burst forth. There were still of course the scattered evidence and the legends, but these were now mere fairy tales in which no one really any longer believed.
It was this apparition of transcendent consciousness with which Adolf Hitler was imbued and it is this missing piece which solves all of the historical quandaries; Kraus said that when he thought of Adolf Hitler he thought of nothing which is a Jew’s way of dealing with that which he cannot fathom or of what he fears; the fact of the matter is that when one begins thinking one begins thinking of Adolf Hitler; certainly he worked in the guise of the politician but all who heard him speak and saw the divine transformation, all who listened to him spell bound late at night hearing him discourse lucidly and persuasively on any number of topic under the sun, anyone who contemplates his eerie and always fortuitous rise, will always be aware of the superhuman in him.
It was an atavistic power source from the depth of the world, a kind of primaling, as if one from the dull stupor of the everyday had awoke from the slumber of the age and had become an awakened one, the first child of time. Deutschland Erwacht! Awake German! How appropriate, for it was in Germany that the consciousness of the ancient world of our people, theretofore arising in fits and starts, was awakening in all of its force so that the god could reclaim its own after the rabble had ravened on it like locusts, eating it out of house and home.
Awake Germany! It was said of Hitler that he was a man without measure, others said he was the dark demon of the throne, principalities and dominions of which St Paul spoke; all of these lead one on the way to the true nature of the prophet and seer but all fall short. Book after book after book could be written on him, nay, has been written regarding him, but none capture his quintessence for he as a being is outside of time, indeed one who forged a new concept of time, can never be calculated with the rubrics of history.
Hitler had certainly read deeply in what are derisively termed the occult arts; better that they be known as the initiatory arts, for it is always by degrees and stages and steps that one ascends to the eagle’s lair where the talons of fate are forever forged. They certainly have their tales: Eckhart? A Satanist by the gods! A Satanist who found his master of dark arts with the mystic blue eyes and the silver tongue to subdue the world in Luciferian sulfur. But the crooked swastika is the cross; and by reversal runs the world; it is the final transvaluation of values, the final reckoning of good and bad, which Hitler ushered in. And through his deep study and his mercurial quicksilver mind he was able to master the Akashic record which spun in his head as he read the cosmic chronicles of time. By the end he was as a sleepwalker who went where Providence dictated through the endless maze of the supersensible
And they say in the bunker he told his friends to live for the man to come, the man who is coming, that masterful ultimate one to whom Hitler hearkened as the prologue to the omens coming on. He said that he had seen this man to come, had seen him in his waking dreams, this improbable and alien entity, and he confessed that it frightened him. I’ll bet. And if there is one thing to be sure of it is this: that if this man to come, like Mars taller by far than any man, if this man frightened Adolf Hitler, well, my brothers, we simply have no idea with what we are dealing, and won’t until the wide world finally stark awake starts dreaming.
***
Notes:
The air became so stifling I could barely breathe. The noisy scene of the Treasure House seemed to melt away before my uncomprehending eyes. I stood alone and trembling before the hovering form of the Superman, a recondite spirt sublime and fearful with a baleful countenance intrepid and cruel. In Holy Awe I offered myself as a vessel to his indomitable will. I say the Superman is living among us now! He is here! He is alive! Isn't that enough for you? I have seen the New Man. He is full of will and power and amoral force; and I was afraid of him--Adolf Hitler
Continued at Grail (Part Four)
February 13 2025
Continued from Grail (Part Two)
When Adolf Hitler had these moments of transcendent imagination and the flooding of an expanded consciousness he did what he always did; he reflected on the experience and began to analyze it. He knew enough of history to know that only a select few in his contemporary world had had such experiences, most of them, like himself, artists. He refused to accept that the modern intellect was even remotely comparable to that of our remote ancestors of prehistory; and that what he was experiencing was akin to what they did, when the dividing line between the mind’s eye and external reality did not exist. Thus he knew that he was undergoing the sense of the archaic divine which used to be the common property of all the Aryan race, and thus he was allowed penetrating glimpses of the relationship between cosmos, earth and man; to see everything as in fact it is, infinite.
***
Baron Edward Bulwer-Lyton was the author of The Coming Race, a novel which presupposed that a race was living in the inner earth which was akin to the race of Supermen which was prophesied by Friedrich Nietzsche; he also wrote a novel called Rienzi, The Last Of the Tribunes, a work which inspired Wagner’s Opera of the same name. Rienzi was an Italian nobleman who conspired to bring the power in his Italian homeland to the people. As such he was one of the models for Hitler and it is in accordance with working out of fate that it was Wagner’ opera which first ignited in him his mystical powers. His friend reports the scene where young Adolf first became aware of the world historic destiny which lay before him. After listening to Rienzi with rapt and burning enthusiasm he was mesmerized by the tale of the nobleman whose meteoric rise was the subject of the work. Upon being released from the opera house without thinking he felt the need to be at a height and so he began to climb Freinberg, a hill which overlooked his hometown of Linz; and it was there that he nearly mechanically poured out the prophetic words which were to be manifested so stunningly, so literally.
Hitler took the hands of his friend and gripped them tight. Never before in the many years that the two had known each had Hitler ever made a gesture like that, he being a reserved person from a young age, but now the overflowing of feeling led him make this outreaching of solidarity. His grip and the feverish excitement on his face were signs of how deeply he was moved. But the words which emanated from him in maddening torrents did not flow smoothly as his generally did; but most of all his voice had the tell tale sign of all those who are submerged in and speaking from the sacred hollow of the Total Mind.
That is the voice did not sound like him at all but rather as if some eerie machine-like device were uttering the syllables. The voice seemed to erupt from some secret space, hoarse and rasping. His friend later said that he had never heard Hitler speak as he did at that hour for it was not at all the case as when a person is carried along by his own words, but rather by some mysterious force or inner compulsion which was forming the ideas in the air. Indeed, it seemed as though Hitler himself was a much an audience on their words as was his interlocutor; and that the putative speaker listened with just as much astonishment as the one who was the one spoken to. The voice was an elemental force which burst forth like a dam breaking, like floodwater of words which would carry all before it in its chthonic wake.
And what did Hitler. or the voice which had taken possession of this young man, say? He spoke in simple picture building of himself as a builder, how he would rebuild the city of Vienna first, and then Berlin, and how in far flung provinces he would bring a monolithic architectural style on a grand scale of vistas and vast plains. He painted grandiose visions of the glorious future of his people that he would lead them to. But most of all he spoke of the high and exalted Mandate that he would one day receive from his people; where he would lead them from servitude toward the heights of freedom. But most of all the friend came away from this hypnotic experience thinking that the mandate itself came from the heavens and outlined a special mission which had been entrusted to him; and which he ever after must seek to fulfill.
***
The most significant fact about Adolf Hitler was that he failed; the second most significant fact about him was that what he attempted was unprecedented, that he sought nothing less that global domination forever by the Aryan race and that he did not succeed was a close run thing; the third most significant fact about him is that he is still alive, he was the sacrifice of which the so called crucifixion sacrifice of Jesus Christ is an obscene parody. In the book Look Who’s Back Hitler is speaking to a man who is skeptical of his new plans and the man says darkly: we don’t want to repeat history. Hitler vociferously agrees with the man saying you are so right we don’t want to repeat history. This time we will do it right.
Hitler’s study was always of history and this is why the spear, as a voice from history itself spoke to him so incessantly. All through the years of his late youth he remained a man alone and aloof and one possessed of a monkish asceticism and for him the world of books and of study was the Holy Flame Of Life. A school teacher he had who possessed a nationalistic fervor had taught him history and taught him that it was history itself which was the mother of truth. Hitler wrote that a man who has no sense of history is a man who has no eyes and no ears. His conversation was always laced with historical occurrences and historical analogies and parallels. Indeed, his entire cast of mind was historical and his most primal drive of destiny was derived from his sense of history. And in his ever-increasing moments of heightened awareness, it was history which was seizing him.
***
That the lance had passed through the hands of so many of his great Saxon heroes, the heroes who with will to power had driven them onward, impressed him, fascinated him; but it was the aura and emanation of the spear itself which overwhelmed him. Hitler knew that there was a long and unbroken chain of claimants to this spear and that they were the heroes, the ones who carry out and enact the will of the world, the very overarching plan of Providence.
The first time he came in contact with the spear in a museum in Vienna he was overawed, he looked at it as a man in a trance upon whom some magical spell had been cast. He became flushed and his brooding eyes began to shine as if by the process of some alien presence; rocking back and forth on his feet in a deep and forbidding and inexplicable euphoria. The room around him seemed to him to be suffused with a mysterious irradiation, an ethereal and ghostly light. The transfiguration of this power reminded him of what he had learned of this spear, that whoever possesses it and deciphers its hidden secrets, that man hold in his hand the very destiny of the world—for good or for evil. He resolved then and there never go to give up this ghost.
This was the most important moment of his life, the moment when he came to be inhabited by the transcendent imagination and become its pure and good servant. During the Great War he determined to take insane chances for four long years, as a runner braving the enemy’s fire in no man’s land time after time in order to test this gift of Providence. Was it true? Did what he was experiencing comport with an outer reality? As he escaped death over and over in situations in which other men would have lost their minds he became stronger and stronger; and stronger too in his unshakeable core belief that he was the one the finger of God had chosen to be its pure vessel, that he now could be touched or harmed by nothing, that he was an immortal on the Quest for nothing less than fate itself. When he came to after the mustard gas at the end of the war it was like he was a totally new person born from some mystical chrysalis, able to fly where other men could only crawl; able to see where other men groped along as if with a walking stick.
He came to see that his vision of the swastika and his vision of the sun god were correct; that he was bathing in some kind of swaddling light which was a return of the now alien Aryan consciousness. He observed how thorough the course and sequence of history our race had by steps lost the magical perceptual faculties which he, in his own person, had revived. And that this perceptible loss was due to the mutation of the German people over time, and the mixing and atrophy of blood.
This was the famous attenuation and enervation of the magic of the blood of the race, and the gradual and slow emergence of a strictly materialistic point of view with a hard bright line drawn between the observer and the observed when in fact nothing at all distinguished them. He noted that over the long centuries the race had passed through a cavern of sleep so that the former ages of the Empyrean, when the race had experienced a unified and uncomplicated relationship with the universe had been lost—though not forever, for here and there, in artists, seers or sages, one saw the bright cloud of the Total Mind burst forth. There were still of course the scattered evidence and the legends, but these were now mere fairy tales in which no one really any longer believed.
It was this apparition of transcendent consciousness with which Adolf Hitler was imbued and it is this missing piece which solves all of the historical quandaries; Kraus said that when he thought of Adolf Hitler he thought of nothing which is a Jew’s way of dealing with that which he cannot fathom or of what he fears; the fact of the matter is that when one begins thinking one begins thinking of Adolf Hitler; certainly he worked in the guise of the politician but all who heard him speak and saw the divine transformation, all who listened to him spell bound late at night hearing him discourse lucidly and persuasively on any number of topic under the sun, anyone who contemplates his eerie and always fortuitous rise, will always be aware of the superhuman in him.
It was an atavistic power source from the depth of the world, a kind of primaling, as if one from the dull stupor of the everyday had awoke from the slumber of the age and had become an awakened one, the first child of time. Deutschland Erwacht! Awake German! How appropriate, for it was in Germany that the consciousness of the ancient world of our people, theretofore arising in fits and starts, was awakening in all of its force so that the god could reclaim its own after the rabble had ravened on it like locusts, eating it out of house and home.
Awake Germany! It was said of Hitler that he was a man without measure, others said he was the dark demon of the throne, principalities and dominions of which St Paul spoke; all of these lead one on the way to the true nature of the prophet and seer but all fall short. Book after book after book could be written on him, nay, has been written regarding him, but none capture his quintessence for he as a being is outside of time, indeed one who forged a new concept of time, can never be calculated with the rubrics of history.
Hitler had certainly read deeply in what are derisively termed the occult arts; better that they be known as the initiatory arts, for it is always by degrees and stages and steps that one ascends to the eagle’s lair where the talons of fate are forever forged. They certainly have their tales: Eckhart? A Satanist by the gods! A Satanist who found his master of dark arts with the mystic blue eyes and the silver tongue to subdue the world in Luciferian sulfur. But the crooked swastika is the cross; and by reversal runs the world; it is the final transvaluation of values, the final reckoning of good and bad, which Hitler ushered in. And through his deep study and his mercurial quicksilver mind he was able to master the Akashic record which spun in his head as he read the cosmic chronicles of time. By the end he was as a sleepwalker who went where Providence dictated through the endless maze of the supersensible
And they say in the bunker he told his friends to live for the man to come, the man who is coming, that masterful ultimate one to whom Hitler hearkened as the prologue to the omens coming on. He said that he had seen this man to come, had seen him in his waking dreams, this improbable and alien entity, and he confessed that it frightened him. I’ll bet. And if there is one thing to be sure of it is this: that if this man to come, like Mars taller by far than any man, if this man frightened Adolf Hitler, well, my brothers, we simply have no idea with what we are dealing, and won’t until the wide world finally stark awake starts dreaming.
***
Notes:
The air became so stifling I could barely breathe. The noisy scene of the Treasure House seemed to melt away before my uncomprehending eyes. I stood alone and trembling before the hovering form of the Superman, a recondite spirt sublime and fearful with a baleful countenance intrepid and cruel. In Holy Awe I offered myself as a vessel to his indomitable will. I say the Superman is living among us now! He is here! He is alive! Isn't that enough for you? I have seen the New Man. He is full of will and power and amoral force; and I was afraid of him--Adolf Hitler
Continued at Grail (Part Four)
