What are you doing right nao?
- Thread starter w0es
- Start date
DarkGift
ov Doom
Pat115
Member
gt_jen
nothingness incarnate
Laughing so hard at this guy :
[ame]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGHLkCYPXe4&feature=related[/ame]
[ame]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGHLkCYPXe4&feature=related[/ame]
gt_jen
nothingness incarnate
xX M i A s M a
In the vast yawning void.
Nanain
I don´t speak english..fu
- Sep 28, 2010
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Pat115
Member
xX M i A s M a
In the vast yawning void.
gt_jen
nothingness incarnate
(“Si non credideritis, non intelligetis”
Isaiah VII: 9
L'Ange Albe)
“Everything, except God, has in itself some measure of privation,
Thus all individuals may be graded according to the degree
To which they are infected with mere potentiality”
Was there not an inconceivable loss of knowledge at Bethlehem?
Christ's abasement, His subjecting Himself to the laws of human birth
And growth and to the lowliness of fallen human nature...
Did the Son remain the transcendent Logos,
Is there not a radical and fatal discontinuity between the consciousness?
Of the transcendent Logos and the secular Jesus?
Obedience to the point of death,
Falling down through increasing
Pressure
Into the deathlike region
Of ooze and slime and decay
These are the fruits and symptoms of the abasement of the World,
The assumption of humanity and the simultaneous occultation of Divinity
(Immaculata
Du wirfst mich in den Moderstaub des Todes)
“And He is before all things, and in Him all things consist”
Triune God,
Morphed into a Being of apparent theanthropic nature
Deprived of the Light of Splendor
Dost thou still stand in undiminished Majesty
After the exinanition of divine attributes
The face of profound fire gone astray,
Exhaling austerities in concealed, divine radiance?
Kenosis, O' theory of great peril!
Blinded, sanguineous eyes and with a trembling hand,
A frail androgynous being holds the perilous doctrinal balance,
Robed in a maculated garment spattered with the sordid blood
Of the Flagellation, of the lacerations and fierce wounds
Carved by royal attributes, of the crimson spurts
Dripping without end,
As was celebrated the High Mass of the Comforter
Kenosis, O' theory of great peril!
Rob God of any attribute and fill the shattering universe
With the pestilent scent of putrefaction and the glorious cloud of death,
For steadfast, at any cost, He must be
Solely the incarnate Word proclaimed by all the prophets and apostles
Would have, in dying, an infinite value,
Sufficient to atone, by His astonishing work,
For the Sins of the world
Res rapta...
Res rapienda...
Isaiah VII: 9
L'Ange Albe)
“Everything, except God, has in itself some measure of privation,
Thus all individuals may be graded according to the degree
To which they are infected with mere potentiality”
Was there not an inconceivable loss of knowledge at Bethlehem?
Christ's abasement, His subjecting Himself to the laws of human birth
And growth and to the lowliness of fallen human nature...
Did the Son remain the transcendent Logos,
Is there not a radical and fatal discontinuity between the consciousness?
Of the transcendent Logos and the secular Jesus?
Obedience to the point of death,
Falling down through increasing
Pressure
Into the deathlike region
Of ooze and slime and decay
These are the fruits and symptoms of the abasement of the World,
The assumption of humanity and the simultaneous occultation of Divinity
(Immaculata
Du wirfst mich in den Moderstaub des Todes)
“And He is before all things, and in Him all things consist”
Triune God,
Morphed into a Being of apparent theanthropic nature
Deprived of the Light of Splendor
Dost thou still stand in undiminished Majesty
After the exinanition of divine attributes
The face of profound fire gone astray,
Exhaling austerities in concealed, divine radiance?
Kenosis, O' theory of great peril!
Blinded, sanguineous eyes and with a trembling hand,
A frail androgynous being holds the perilous doctrinal balance,
Robed in a maculated garment spattered with the sordid blood
Of the Flagellation, of the lacerations and fierce wounds
Carved by royal attributes, of the crimson spurts
Dripping without end,
As was celebrated the High Mass of the Comforter
Kenosis, O' theory of great peril!
Rob God of any attribute and fill the shattering universe
With the pestilent scent of putrefaction and the glorious cloud of death,
For steadfast, at any cost, He must be
Solely the incarnate Word proclaimed by all the prophets and apostles
Would have, in dying, an infinite value,
Sufficient to atone, by His astonishing work,
For the Sins of the world
Res rapta...
Res rapienda...
Deveianse
Member
xX M i A s M a
In the vast yawning void.
PhlegethonVeins
Autopsy Obsessed
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