This is part two from The Anatomy of Satanism in Hollywood.
Rest in peace Zombie Boy. Gaga loved you because you were willing to peel your own skin off to be near her. A man allegedly committed suicide on Lammas Day, August 1st, 2018. The day marks the Sabbat Festival, the beginning of the Wiccan harvest. It calls for a human sacrifice of any age male or female. Zombie Boy was a model priest. He was serving his Queen Lady Gaga. Zombie Boy was the official 2018 Sabbat Sacrifice. He announced he had been chose on April 19th saying, “Since Fate, strikes down the strong man, everyone weep with me!”.
Zombie’s final words were typed into Instagram on Aug 3rd from the bottom of a black hole in a picture. He posted his last utterance to 418.1k followers. The punctuation tells you he wasn’t communicating with his reader. The capitalization shows you he was reciting this to himself. He played this phrase with his mouth like a mantra. His spell created echoes in every digital witness. There were 48,470 Likes, and 6,827 Comments.
Zombie Boy gave himself to the black deep. He slipped himself into a hole dug deep into his chest. He lived off his depression spiked with a Queen’s dopamine. Gaga’s finest poison. Imagine the size of the black-hole swirling in this man’s chest. Surrounded by watchers, each occupied with their own contracts. No one got here for free. Zombie had abandoned his own skin a long time ago. The suction from his exodus pulled him straight into the anti-verse.
Gaga needed three ingredients for her ritual. She needed a circle. She needed a sacrifice. She needed a resonator.
As Zombie Boy took his own life, the ring in his ritual turned into a tunnel of light. Gravity gave him up as he ascended. Zombie’s corpse wonders if he will be accepted. His ascension slows while his heart is weighed by a golden feather. A piece of him is missing. He can see it floating before him. Zombie gazed into the eyes of his own judgement as he sank out of the scene and downwards into oblivion. He knew where he would be going. He did not know what to except when he got there.
As he faded into black, he lost all concept of motion and density. He felt a wriggling as if he were underneath a slimy skin of chicken. His spine was soft cartilage. He had been curled into the shape of a question. He was fully conscious and inside a brand new fetal body. He realizes he will be returning to gaia. He weeps behind eyes that haven’t opened. For the next nine months, the former zombie boy gets to gestate on how he got here.
Months pass. A stargate opens beneath him. A doctor pulls him into the universe by his tiny knees. He feels the cold sting of atmosphere. He panics in the cold gush of oxygen. It is making him slowly forget. The lights are too bright and the nurse is slapping him. He tries to speak his story for someone to write it down but no one will listen. He has to remember how he got here or no one will hear his dying secret. He struggles behind his tiny new vocal chords. His brain is congealing as old memories are buried forever below a deluge of new information. All he can do is scream. A sweet milk comes pouring down his windpipe. The taste is too powerful a concoction. The life of Zombie Boy is forgotten in the first taste of sugar.
The next morning, Gaga showed his plucked heart to the people. Read Gaga’s last words about her Zombie Boy. When she says, “beyond devastating” is that the same as “sad?” Gaga calls the powers of mental sickness to the forefront. While holding the head of Zombie Boy, Gaga says, “We must save each other.” A tribute of 237k Likes and 102k comments are tossed at her feet. Gaga’s words are impeccable. Read her spell again, carefully. Her people are celebrating a ritual sacrifice. Gaga is proclaiming the boy’s death will bring her colony salvation. Every mind will be cleansed from her ritual. 339,000 people applauding a Queen for pulling a heart out of someone’s chest without lifting a finger.
The powerful never smile because they don’t have to.
Every Hive has a Queen
A Queen stirs her colony with frequency and vibration. Her song penetrates the body of each bee turning it into a speaker. A hive will buzz to resonate a queen’s primary signal. Devotion becomes obedience. They gather her pollen with moistened fingers. They fly it home without question. They castrate themselves to give to the collective. They are desperate to return home to her temple of golden honey. A million zombies with wings, confusing flight for freedom. Each one insisting they have never been asleep.
The spell of the Queen only resonates in an empty chest. Drones were once people made hollow through self-abandonment. Hollywood encourages all of us to celebrate the actor. An actor is a personality that’s been gutted like an avocado. We celebrate them as the golden child. “The oscar goes to Zombie Boy.” We give a piece of ourselves just to be in their congregation. Once inside the show, the queen’s sound can fill a chest’s abandoned chamber. We feel whole again from the buzzing. We are quenched by the sound of a queen’s buzzing. The cavern we dig inside our solar plexus is our welcome to the machine.
Welcome my son
Welcome to the machine
Where have you been?
It’s alright we know where you’ve been
You’ve been in the pipeline
Filling in time
Provided with toys and scouting for boys
You bought a guitar to punish your ma
And you didn’t like school
And you know you’re nobody’s fool
Welcome my son
Welcome to the machine
What did you dream?
It’s alright we told you what to dream
Part Three The Satanic Ritual of 9/11.