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The Cycle of Sigel I

The best things in life, so agrees every man of mettle, are those that cost: that have been paid in toil, that have been dear in silver, sweat, blood, time, brains & broken hearts. Ask Christ on the cross, Alexander in his saddle, Admiral Nelson belowdecks or anyone that ever threw money at pink sheets: the spoils of war and love come wound-resplendent, inseparable from the pain of costly dealings. There is an endemic belief in the modern world, however, that adversity and difficult circumstances are, by necessity, exclusively tragic in nature. Even mundane obstacles are considered in a vacuum; the loss of a job, the conclusion of a romantic relationship, an injury: these are situations that must be skirted around, are to be endured and winced through rather than metabolised as part of a greater initiatory process. Speaking generally, there is no consideration for the actual influence that these situations might have over an individual, his internal state, his behaviour, or consequently the hero’s journey that they might be contextualised within.

Cross-culturally, mythology teaches us to consider hardship in a very different way. The motif of the hero is inseparable from the motif of the ordeal. In reality, it is impossible for the hero to rise to any higher station without the experience of significant trial. When tragedy is considered as tragedy-for-tragedy’s-sake, as opposed to an opportunity for self-alchemy, the ascension of the heroic type is simply not feasible. Man gazes upon the heroic figures that populate myth with the same transfixment that sent the eyes of our earliest ancestors skywards to study the stars, we look back into the annals of para-history and archetype to the liminal places so like the heavens where men of legendary calibre dwell still— but will we elect to be spectators? Will we speculate, with our lives divorced from the principles of the figures we revere, scarcely ever attempting to understand, let alone emulate, the spirit that informed the marrow of Troy? Do we wish to embody the principles that empassion us, or sit, cross-legged, like boys on the floor of a world ripe for our taking, leafing through binders of baseball cards labelled “Sigurd” and “Musashi”?

To attempt to make sense of the exceptional, to digest the legendary in its myriad forms at its leanest extent, it is only necessary to consider the element of initiatory tribulation as one of the three primary dimensions of the Cycle of Sigel (which can occur many times over the course of the hero’s life). Consider the shape of the Anglo-Saxon rune sigel ᛋ (the sun, perhaps a sail, also victory), whose three strokes each represent a distinct stage:

  • Beginning from the bottom right side of the glyph, the initial phase is known as The Hero Seed: bogged down by the mundane rigours of ordinary reality, the germinating hero is compelled by some external force to begin the slow journey northward into the mysticism of the self, and through this inner transcendence, ascend to a higher ideal. This phase can be represented symbolically by the rune ēðel ᛟ (the estate, the home) – this is a foundational phase that is decidedly closed off to the possibility and potentiality of the non-ordinary experience, made visually apparent in the crossed strokes of the glyph.
  • At the intersection of this stroke with the second one, the hero begins to experience the second phase of his journey: The Fall, or the summary ordeal that can be understood as a catalyst for literal or figurative rebirth. This is Gandalf’s death at Khazad-dûm, or the dishonouring of Achilles at the hand of Agamemnon. Note that this stroke of the glyph not only doubles back on the progress made in the initial phase of the journey, but also moves the hero laterally away from his former path, thereby severing his connection with the previous mode of thinking. This phase is mirrored in the value of the rune nyd ᚾ (need, distress) – this represents the redemptive and requisitory nature of the purifying fall from the ordinary into the final phase. The transverse stroke of this rune shows well the obstacular nature of the tribulation in what many heroes have assumed would be a linear way.
  • The third stroke of sigel represents The Ascent. The hero, now reborn and fundamentally altered, continues northward on a path that is identical in orientation to the initial one undertaken in the first phase, but influenced to such an extreme extent by his tribulations, that the first and third phases are better seen as being simply parallel to one another rather than continuous elements of one experience. This final phase can, under certain circumstances, become the catalyst for the hero’s return to the first phrase to complete the process anew, as Cú Chulainn’s slaying of the hound that became his namesake was a catalyst for his ascension-and-further-growth. This phase can likewise exist as an element of finality at the end of a hero’s life, as Bēowulf’s ill-fated battle with the dragon. This third phase is represented best by the manuscript variant of the rune gēr ᛄ (years, harvest), the very shape of which shows the continuation of the destined path surrounded by the “champion’s glow”, or lón láith.
Detail from the stave church of Hylestad, Norway, depicting the hero Sigurd locked in battle with Fafnir the dragon

With the substance of the Cycle of Sigel being understood, the most minute and most crucial element of the heroic process can be understood and internalised by extension. With the acknowledgement that each stroke of the rune forms an indelible and functional portion of the hero’s development, trial must be endured with the judiciousness of a cæsar, with the careful battle-serenity of Indra locked in struggle with the serpent Vṛtra. 

The next piece in this series will discuss, in detail, the first stroke of the cycle in significant detail. Where, how, and by what measure does the hero begin? What is foundational to that which is transcendent?

Nyd byþ nearu on breostan;

ƿeorþeþ hi þeah oft niþa bearnum

to helpe and to hæle gehƿæþre,

gif hi his hlystaþ æror.

Trouble is oppressive to the heart;

yet often it proves a source of help and salvation

to the children of men, to everyone who heeds it betimes.

Anglo-Saxon rune poem, “nyd”.

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S.C.M.M II

:Cult of The Solar King:

You are not a man, but a living world of interacting archetypes, struggles, Gods, and beasts. 

Any fool can look at the waking world – our collective cosm built by all – and see problems with it. It’s no secret that many are miserable, and much injustice still runs amok. 

This is easy to say, and there is no kickback from me claiming this.

 Anyone can say “Yeah dude, the world’s gone crazy.”

But, until you realize this single solitary factor, I guarantee that you’re doing nothing but making it worse; so read carefully. 

Chances are, your world is burning.

I mean the true world, the world within yourself. Because when all the cards are down, that’s the world that matters most to you. It’s where you rest, it’s where you shit, and it’s where you eat. In other words, it’s what constructs the immediate physical realm that you operate within. 


More importantly, it’s the realm in which your ideas, and choices spew forth from.

Here’s the thing.

Your world’s forests are not burning because you are too weak. It’s cities, towns, and hamlets do not starve because you are too stupid. It’s rivers do not run black because it was a frail world destined to fail.

My friend, your inner-world is in turmoil because it awaits the return of the Halithaz. And if you haven’t been paying attention, that’s the :Hero:

The carrier of the shining blade, whose blow, whose touch, whose existence will liberate the land. 

– Joseph Campbell –

Within your inner-self resides many archetypes. Depending on who you are and how you were raised, certain powerful pieces might find themselves ruling your inner-realm. 

Some are far more desirable than others. I shouldn’t even have to give examples. 

What I will do is tell you that you must find your grove, and sprout the seeds of your life’s most important principles.

You must guard these with your life, and tend to them often.

This should now be the holiest, most powerful area within your mind. It is from this area you must construct a castle; and from there a Kingdom.

All must spread outward, and mimic these sacred trees. Lest your kingdom be built on lies. 

It could be that you already had a kingdom. I do not judge. I just ask you reclaim it now. 

The peasants will find out, and your less-desirable archetypes will find your weaknesses. Once more throwing your kingdom into ruin. 

The inner you is a gnarled figure. He has seen much darkness, and he wears the armor and scars to prove his descent into the darkest areas of your mind and world. 

He searches for the true god. He searches for the :The Solar King: 

This is your lowest self, understanding he is worth more.

This is your lowest self, taking to the throne in hopes of the resurrection of your highest hopes and dreams. 

What I’m about to reveal to you are personal archetypes that I have found to be paramount in the courtroom of the Wolfhead Rex. You will notice many things about this. But first, I will let you observe.

This is the courtroom, within are the powerhouse archetypes that have existed in Gods and men since the dawn of time, and most certainly before. It is up to you to find your Wolfhead Rex. You must be the light that proves to him God exists. 

He will hear the call of :The Solar King: and he must take to his rightful throne in the kingdom of ruin. 

He has much to do. The Cult of The Solar King must assemble. Next time I will tell you of their roles. 
More soon.

HALITHAZ

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Incarnating Gods

The much spoken of Golden Age, Satya Yuga, Lemuria, or Eden is the state of ancient Man in which his actions are instinctive and automatic but not mechanical. They “knew and were” those luminiferous Titans of bygone eras, those beings not bound and limited by Time or the curse of Man’s modern self-awareness. We must think of D.H. Lawrence’s “I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.”

The keys to Atlantis, to Agartha, to the Warm Oasis, to travelling back – against time – is such: “set thy heart upon thy work, but never on its reward. Work not for a reward; but never cease to do thy work”. To act in accordance with the shape of one’s nature. To draw from the surrounding earth all requirements in the immediate and eternal “Now”.

The occult, religious, esoteric, and otherwise fanatical schools of thought, temples, and philosophies are rife with countless restrictive dogma which serve to alienate and differentiate by means non-conducive to the health of the physical body; we recognize that while there are undoubtedly other bodies and other planes for the Seeker, the physical body is still of substantial importance (why else would We, He, She, or They incarnate here otherwise?) and must be well nourished, trained, sculpted, taught, and honed. Perfected.

It is known by certain schools of thought that a “new” or different soul, angel comes to incarnate within a physical body every 7 years. This body will be chosen, again, by how well it suits the needs of the entity that comes down to incarnate here. If we harbour beliefs that an immortal and eternal soul, angel, archetype, or Vira comes down,  into a physical form to experience this life here, then we naturally conclude that they must select a body most befitting to their tasks set to accomplish by the thread of destiny of which they – and by extension we – are acutely aware.


We seek to offer perfection. We offer to the Gods who watch from above, from without, from “over there” – as if on the edge of a fountain – a perfect, supple, lean, mighty physical body. Because we understand the importance of this. We understand the undeniable, flawless, perfect natural beauty that arises from the murky quagmire of modern humanity when the laws of nature are again met and the necessities of these biological bodies that are a part of our greater selves are met; when We embrace the power of our physical bodies not for the desires of vanity, but out of a knowing and a will to create the Superman.

We do not care for the “latest study” and it’s supposed findings. There is no need to waste time and effort scouring the depths of the internet for articles claiming this or that benefit or detriment that an isolated compound, enzyme, or nutrient had on a collection of microbes on an agar dish or cells in a test tube. It is the most powerful affirmation to our understanding of nutrition and the sculpting of the body to look to actual, whole human beings living in accordance with their beliefs on how a human must or should live. The effects of their lifestyle and dietary choices will make abundantly clear whether such eating and performance habits lead him towards the slobbish and unfit body of modern metropolitan human as he descends ever downward, farther from his golden ancestry; or towards the bronzed, lean, strong, and sculpted body the Gods wrote into his very being for him to achieve.

Will the person who reads these words be ready to offer to the Gods a fleshy vehicle that is unsuited to their needs? Will the body they inhabit be unable to perform tasks, deeds of strength and overcoming? We ask which God wishes to come down, sacrificing His immortality to rot away in a flabby, weak, slow, disgusting physical body, poisoned by the modern world, starved of the needs this body pronounces in no ambiguous terms that it requires – if only we can interpret the cries. Denied the physical trials that are not available to the immortal Gods, that wilful suffering and sculpting of the self, the Gods will simply select a more suitable body into which to descend and bless by awakening new centres of awareness in that elect.

Like the sculptures of Breker hidden within marble, like the God within the Exernsteine, like the countless Giants and Titans sleeping within the high snowy peaks the world over, the flawless shape of Man hides away beneath the weakness of his own domesticated modern self. It needs only be extracted, and once we are aware of what our bodies are capable, we are pulled irresistibly towards any and all paths and possibilities to excavate this. It is instinctual and impulsive. Deep within our being, We understand that Man is something that shall be overcome. But we also understand that a foundation is required. We understand that perfection is achieved from the bottom (where we are currently stuck) upwards, back towards the Mount of Congregation in the sides of the North, neither by ship nor by foot to be found, up the Spinal Column, ascending always.

Our modern, physical world is the bottom rung. It is the first step towards reclaiming Paradise. If our physical bodies are not first perfected, how have We shown the Gods that we are deserving to be given the raw marble of our higher Bodies with which to sculpt? Does the sickness-riddled, flabby, blotchy, pale recluse deserve the higher existences and realms when he has not embraced and loved all the possibilities of this world first? When he has not exhausted the possibilities of this physical body? When he has not shown he is willing to push to the absolute limits this sacred physical body – an iteration or tool the Gods have left us – to the absolute limits and beyond? To cry to the skies: “MORE!” Knowing that We will always make the most of the gifts given us, the Gods smile, and become tempted themselves to allow us that sacred “more”.

The Gods themselves are not bound by time, not limited by our perception of its passage. In the Golden Age they would come down, or in, and return. They interacted with our luminous ancestors in our remotest history. They could “visit” within what is a moment for them, what is millenia for us, countless worlds, bringing gifts and tidings from Above or without, which was also here, what is now beneath, or within, hidden.


But our worlds are not immortal and eternal, and are subject to involution and decay. The Gods, again not being limited by what we perceive as Time could see this. They knew their children would fall, would descend and forget their illustrious origins. They could see up to a certain point of our era, but they can no longer see us. The modern age is enshrouded by a dense fog. A choking, obscuring cloud  into which they cannot peer, and do not often deign submerge themselves into. We are no longer visited by the Gods at ease.

But they have not left us without hope. Knowing this involution would take place, the Gods hid within humanity the keys, tools, or weapons to our own redemption and return to their rightful kingdoms. Torches to light, to send a beacon across all of existence, time, and space, back to them, to be as that which is underneath the dark waters with all Lights Blazing. What they have given us is within ourselves. But they are not expressed without effort, without displaying that one is willing to alter their environment, willing to subject themselves to discomfort, willing to sculpt oneself, willing to suffer as the Gods do for having watched us be lost.