BLACK: BOOK ONE OF THE STORY OF US ALL TRILOGY
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* - [Three videos based on Black: Book One of The Story of Us All Trilogy by Brian Farnham are found at the bottom of this page, which has vocals and music by Hunter, the text are passages from the book. There is also a sample chapter from the book, and images of the interior of the book as well on this page.]
What is the truth of existence? Why are we here and what is our purpose? Throughout the history of humanity, we have attempted to seek the answers to these questions, some through religious and spiritual means, others philosophical and artistic. The Story of Us All is one more attempt to come to grips with the age-old struggle to find meaning in the universe.
Black is the first book in the trilogy, The Story of Us All, which will be followed by White (Book Two) and Red (Book Three). Black, as with the second and third books, is written in a style called Chaos Riddle Prose, and follows three separate narratives. All three stories are modern, surreal, Agnostic-Gnostic-Luciferian takes on classics from Christian European Literature. The first story comes from the Grail legend, specifically Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival; the second from Dante’s Divine Comedy; and the third from the Faust legend, especially Goethe’s Faust. All three characters in the stories pursue the same goal, in different times, places, and dimensions, to find The Eye.
The first tale starts with telling the story of an experimental Los Angeles writer and Seer called Nothing Man. A Seer is one who can see the Spirit World, a realm of higher dimensional beings, which is hidden from our material existence. Nothing Man works for The Masters - a secret society who never identify themselves other than The Masters – by retrieving important occult artifacts for them, in exchange for the safety of his eleven year old son’s life. The tale begins with his retrieval of a silver cup, which is in the possession of a young lover addicted to opium. Nothing Man makes love to her before taking the silver cup, but then is confronted by a strange higher dimensional beast. Nothing Man uses his cunning to overcome the demon and continues to come across other beings in his daily life. For the Spirit World has constant interaction with the material world, unbeknownst to most of mankind.
Upon returning the artifact to The Masters in their secret Temple, they call upon Nothing Man to do the most important task he has yet been faced with: to search for and find The Eye. It is discovered soon after that day that Nothing Man disappears from everyone’s knowledge, even The Masters’. Nothing Man’s son, Firebird, is taken away by his mother to Mexico, in fear of their lives. Seemingly safe, once he turns 16, Firebird is thrust into bizarre experiences, transformed and transported into another realm. Like Eschenbach’s Parzival, this tale begins with the father and his adventures and how it prepares the reader for the young man’s journey into the unknown, in this case Firebird instead of Parzival.
The second story takes place in what is called The Divine Chaos, similar to Dante’s Inferno, Purgatory, and Paradise but different in many ways. In this version the moral universe of Dante is flipped on its head, changing the spiritual purpose from union with God into one of individual self-fulfillment. The lead character and narrator is called Black, who at the beginning, like Dante, finds himself lost in a dark wood at the mid-point of his life, 35 years old. Black does not initially know his own identity nor where he is, and wanders through the strange land. Deranged animals and a blood red lake confront him before finally coming into contact with his guide through this realm, Austin Osman Spare. Spare guides Black through various situations and encounters, as Black grows in self-awareness, penetrating the multi-layers of experiences in The Divine Chaos.
The third tale follows Goethe's version in some respects, but also adds subversive twists to the tale: this time around the bad guy is none other than The Lord Himself, God, or at least the god of the Bible, the Torah, the Koran, and other versions of god which represent him as a possessive, sadistic, manipulative, jealous, insecure Dictator. This Lord God reveals His secret identity to the Angels Three and Mephistopheles in the Prologue, as Choronzon, the Lord of the Abyss.
The hero in this version is Faust, who has undertaken actions which shock The Lord to His core. The Lord demands Mephistopheles do whatever he needs to stop Faust from doing the unthinkable - Faust is in the midst of creating the drug of the gods: Soma. For centuries Soma had been known by a select few alchemists, including Faust and Faust’s father, to be the true Philosopher’s Stone and Elixir. In his German Renaissance laboratory, Faust combines the essential ingredients until he finds the perfect mixture. The side effects cause no pain, nor discomfort to Faust. In fact, he feels, as expected and hoped, like a god. Mephistopheles’ mission is to not only stop Faust from fulfilling the purpose of Soma, but also to destroy Faust’s soul completely. Faust is able to communicate with Lucifer in a ritual, asking for Godhead, but is told by The Light Bringer there are further steps he needs to take. Faust’s path will be difficult, with both the help of others and the damnation of others, sometimes at the same time, and it will be up to Faust to navigate his way to the discovery of The Eye.
The meaning behind the titles of the books in the trilogy relate to Alchemy. Similar to how the three stories are modern, surrealist, Agnostic-Gnostic-Luciferian takes on Christian European philosophies, so too are the references to the alchemical colors of Black, White, and Red transformed. Thematically, Black in this trilogy represents Birth, Creation, as opposed to the older alchemical definition of Black representing Putrefaction, Decay, Death. White in this trilogy represents Corruption, as opposed to the older meaning of Purification. Red represents here Evolution, Continual Growth, as opposed to the older meaning of Perfection. These themes are expressed through the narrative of all three tales in a literary rather than dogmatic approach.
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Below is a sample
from the book -
THE STORY OF US ALL.
This story … shaken spake … my story … shook speak … the Nothing Man who is I … eaten eyes, eaten O’s … the Nothing Man’s story … my story and your story, Firebird my son … fresh frequently, fees freeze … is the story of us all … ask and answer … in that there are no other stories but None. … If this remains a secret, let it be so … The Black … for in that sleep of death known to us men and women as death … threefold terror and sickness rage this land we call home. … Morally Immoral, Moral Immoralist. … In mint condition, they would say. … We have it required by Our Lords to suffer, twitch, and pain our days away. … But no, no, no! Not true! … Against! Against! … Life is Beautiful and Our Lords are too. … True, Truth-Speaker. … As long as you log your logs and nipples. … As long as you are your true self, selfless selfish Self. … Now this was an all day, all night affair … for if enough feet walked the forests dry … Draconian methods … then a desert was necessary and functional. … I have been told by your children and mine that there was never a time to tell this tale till now … woods and roses redemption … that however many secrets roam and murder the Earth … however much priceless was next to priceless … the way was green for the two-fold house to Emerald the scorched hills. … I cannot tell my tale, this tale, your tale … toss torrents, toss … without the inconsiderate need from On High Above to keep my mouth shut. … No-Thing Naught your Naughty, Nightly Nightie. … They have been telling me to shut up as far back as I can remember. … The Black. … The Blank. … The Black.
Samantha … naked … on top of me … began at my feet … softly kissing my toes. … I was without clothes as well … laying on my back … as she placed her lips on my ankles, calves, and thighs … going up my legs. … I could smell her body odor … mixed with her decrepit and rank mattress. … The smell of her body was sweet yet harshly refined by drug addiction and days of not bathing … her mattress seemed as if from the 19th century. … She didn’t like to shower because of opium and laziness … and yet because she was so seductive and sexy she could get away with smelling up the place. … I was sweating from horniness and heat … my body odor mixed with hers … and the both of ours mixed with the decay of her rotting, Art for Art’s sake studio apartment. … I could tell she probably never cleaned this place … the time spent here in her opium-addicted hours of sex, torment, fun, desperation, and Silver Lake Society Girl lifestyle … had settled in with the physical interior of the home. … The emotions and sensations of occupants … often mingled with the physical construct the person lived in. … An individual’s home oozed their spirit, their personality … this apartment expressed Samantha body and soul. … The place was sensual ... it was trashy, it was Silver Lake Hipster Princess … it was artsy, it was drug addicted. … There was genius of music knowledge … how she knew all that she did at her age I don’t know … with vinyl records and record players, most not workable … along with great literature, which she actually read … lining bookcases and on tables and on the floor. … Books, vinyl records, knick-knacks, clothes, beauty, lust, opium, sadness, decay … spewed forth from the corners, cracks, and crevices of Samantha’s home. … Her lips were gentle, glorious, giving, full of heart … she knew how to kiss. … She kissed and kissed … she loved to kiss … she kissed and kissed … oh how I loved her kisses … oh she kept on kissing, everywhere. … She made me feel as if she was falling in love with my hairy body … she caressed me from toes to forehead with kisses. … There was nothing mechanical about it, nothing of the kind … oh she was a good kisser … she made my body melt and my heart beat … my prick quickly wake up and say hello. … She knew what she was doing … she was only 22 years old but she was experienced … sadly, gloriously, experienced.
Handy to have ham in your trash can … for they might think it human flesh and not question your dedication to the murder of swine. … But let it not be said … never be said … that my eyes were ever flushed full of grime and grim gruesome gangrene. … God was a Dog, to invert a cat into a dog, a dog into a god. … Gods, dogs, and ministers might expel the thoughts of evils and sins … but never will they extinguish fear. … And my biggest fear … of losing you, my son … was brought to a head one day when I returned home one evening … discovered my fear … in the face of it … facing that fear fully … my forceful fear face-first. … It was a note … left in my mailbox … not by the mailman … but by The Masters:
Let this be a warning to you, Nothing Man. … We can take your son away at any moment. … You belong to us. … Do as we say and your son will be fine.
Oh yessss … she was kissing me on my lips now. … We were locked in a passionate embrace … kissing, kissing, kissing … she loved to kiss … I loved to kiss … oh how we loved to kiss. … I loved kissing someone who loved to kiss. … Pleasure was the point. … Enjoyment was key. … Her naked body was entangled with mine … her sweaty breasts pushing against my sweaty chest … her body heat against mine. … She was short … she was electrifying and vibrant … she was turned on … I was turned on … I could feel the wetness and warmth of her pussy pressed against the pulsating hardness of my cock. … Her tongue was aggressive in my mouth but sensitive at the same time … agile, nimble. … Oh she was a good kisser … she was moaning into my mouth … I was moaning into hers … my hands were caressing her entire body … I loved putting my hands on her ass. … She had a beautiful face … I loved feeling it pressed against mine … her dyed platinum blonde hair gently touched my dirty blonde hair and forehead and cheeks. … She crept down below and went towards my prick … which she kept telling me how much she liked … how much she liked sucking it … yes she did this before … I was on her bed before … we fucked before. … This was the fourth time we had sex … I loved fucking her … she seemed to love fucking me … this fourth time was as great as the times before … oh it was great. … Yes, Samantha … yes, Samantha … Yes! … But then … as her lips were wrapped around it … sucking it … sucking down below there … she took her mouth off it … moaning … and spoke amongst her moaning …
- Oh yes, Daddy … I love your cock, Daddy … I love sucking it … I love sucking Daddy’s cock … she said while licking it and sucking it and kissing it …
I got uncomfortable … I didn’t like playing into this kind of role play … she never did that before … she kept saying it … over and over again … it especially made me uneasy not only because I was a father but also since I knew she was traumatized by sexual predation as a child … by none other than her father …
- Samantha … no, don’t … I said touching her shoulder … shaking it gently … but she didn’t stop … Samantha … Samantha … please stop …
Eventually … she stopped after I shook her and told her to stop a number of times … she looked at me … uncomfortable … embarrassed … I felt uncomfortable … I tried to hide my disgust but she must have seen it … I felt bad and apologized … she got up suddenly, out of bed … quickly walking out of the room without saying a word … going into another room … slamming the door behind her …
And so it was made clear to me the threat … do as we say and your son will be fine. … The Masters made their point. … Half that cup full, I would say … there you have it empty. … Empty of Not … a cry from the 69 story barricade. … Leave it to the others, Nothing Man. … Chaos your Riddles somewhere else. … Or else receive the repugnant repeal on tax warfare. … Fear not your fannies and famous farms of fresh feet. … Inhabit a world requiring less of your soul than The Masters do from your eyes and ears. … You have the heart of a flying child, chicken … so said the ministers of measles and weasels. … There … then … this … that … was how it all came into place. … For the dangers of immigration were at hand. … The Catholics knew it all along … the Germans left through the back exit … which for my part as an American according to birth … according to location of birth … time and place and fingers from some doctor who blew away the death threats … all of that and more … produced you, Firebird … for without the production of me … you should know by now … there would have been no production of you. … Think Tanks thought of clever ways to employ me … for employment with them was not something I wished to do. … Insults, threats … suggestions, intimidations … produced paranoia … drug-pushing through normal backstreet channels … oh yes, oh yes … we are watching the deal right now … yes, make it happen … crystal meth … yes, on it’s way … proceed to give to said one Nothing Man … yes, he will buy it … yes, it has been predetermined he be a methamphetamine addict. … No, not that way … the other way … perhaps if he doesn’t join us … he will most certainly destroy himself … or both … or perhaps they both mean the same thing. … However it was with illegal substances … I could never be sure the what and the how of it all … there was no doubt amongst anyone that I was not on the team … I never was … and there was a good chance I never would be. … Year after year of having a big mouth … shut your trap, Nothing Man … shut it! … Year after year of inspection … interrogation, investigation, isolation … left a trail I could no longer not notice.
Samantha locked herself in the other room … just around the corner of the kitchen … doing what I knew what she must be doing … I knocked on the door several times … calling her … apologizing to her … with no response … she had hid herself in that room before … it was her opium den … her tiny room where she smoked opium and lost herself … escaping from the terrors of the living … for the oblivion of opium is what she loved most of all … more than sex … more than love … more than friends … men … art … music … magick … everything else was secondary to opium. … I gave up and walked away … going back to the other room and sat on the floor next to a bookshelf … and to my amazement right there in front of me … was the Silver Cup I came for. … It was a plain, undecorated silver cup … fairly large and sturdy. … The Masters told me I had to get the Silver Cup … for it was theirs … they claimed. … Someone had stolen it from them … from hand to hand found itself in the hands of Daniel DarkTooth … an old school Silver Lake electronic music spoken word performance artist. … Samantha had befriended DarkTooth when she moved out to LA from the Desert. … He was immediately infatuated with her … did many things for her … including getting this apartment … paying rent and other bills for her. … He became her Sugar Daddy. … I’m not sure if DarkTooth knew the Silver Cup was stolen property … I don’t think Samantha knew. … All I knew was that I needed to get it and get out without her noticing. … But I did care about her … I felt bad for coming here … taking this cup … however much I knew I had to. … When The Masters Order … I must Obey. … Next to the Silver Cup was Samantha’s Notebook of Damned Desire … full of her writings, drawings, collage art pasted to the paper. … Amongst her writings, drawings, collage art collection … she also had Sigils … for she practiced Magick … as did I … in my own particular way … which was The Way of The Self … of Spare’s Individualistic Non-Doctrines … and Crowley’s Systems of Invocations. … I found it odd she performed a Ritual on my Birthday the year before … before we met … that she photographed herself at certain points in the Ritual … those photos were in her notebook … amongst her Sigils, drawings, and writings. … As per Austin Osman Spare’s practices … Sigils are words taken from a Desire … originally a sentence of Desire … a Statement of Intent … such as …
I want to stop abusing drugs and alcohol
… which is what I did … I used Magick to get over my addictions
… or … other examples which I did not do …
I want to get this job …
I want this girl to fall in love with me …
etc., etc. …
The words from the Statement of Intent … after eliminating all repeating letters … are then distorted and made into art forms … designs … strange-looking creatures … taking on a life of their own … so that one cannot read the meaning of the original Desire anymore. … The sentence becomes not necessarily a symbol … more like a work of art … for one’s conscious mind should no longer be able to interpret meaning from the lines anymore. … The point is to transform the sentence into an image … making the Statement of Intent enter the Subconscious. … Various rituals then are performed … the details of which I will not go into … culminating in the Charging of the Sigil. … The individual chooses their own means of Charging … but to me the most powerful is Orgasm. … Self-Pleasure while fixating on the Sigil … Climaxing in Orgasm. … The idea is a Transformation and Intensification of one’s mind … so that the Desire enters the Subconscious. … Orgasm … to me and others … is at the point when our Subconscious is Open at the same time as our Conscious minds … and therefore a window to drop our Desires into our Subconscious. … When I mentioned to Samantha last week I found it interesting she performed a Ritual on my Birthday last year … she was obscure and dismissive … turning away from me … mumbling something I couldn’t understand. … Her response made me think it was even more odd … yet I didn’t get into it further … that was that.
Placing the pieces into the puzzle … I realized I had been followed my entire life. … I then realized that if I was being followed then that probably meant a lot of other people were being followed … not only that … but if I was being followed … me being a Nobody … then there was a good chance EVERYONE was being followed. … It took me three decades to come to this conclusion … a long time for anyone … yet not too dismal a time of it … since most … a very large most of the population … in any country … were simply unaware of the Following Phenomenon. … And to be honest … it was better that way.
- Samantha … I called out to her after a good 20 to 30 minutes. … Samantha?
She didn’t respond … I went back to the bed … put my boxers on … then walked over to the door for the other room and knocked on it again … called out to her again … eventually she opened the door … she stood there naked in front of me … gave me the strangest expression I’d ever seen from her. … Her eyes were droopy … barely conscious … but that was not the most unusual part of her face. … Behind her eyes there was a glow … a greenish glow making her blue eyes green … she smiled … with saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth. … Her smile was crooked … trembled … seemed to be afraid, angry, and mocking all at the same time. … Suddenly … she sneezed harshly … shooting snot and saliva ... SPLAT … all over my face. … She sneezed again … this time even louder and more obnoxious and disgusting.
- Samantha … what the hell, I said … she began to laugh … Before I could say or do anything more … I felt someone grab my shoulder and forced me to turn around …
My initial feeling that The Followers were Full-On Evil Incarnate … recently gave way to The Story of Mankind. … This was a story we were all told … but not in plain sight. … It was a story not to be found anywhere … not in any religious scripture … nor political tract … nor philosophical text … nor good book … nor summer blockbuster. … It was a story embedded in everything, everywhere … a story which was continuous, ever flowing, ever growing, ever decaying … every step of the way in flux. … A constant state of flux … if that was possible.
I turned to look and saw a Hemthologot staring at me right in the face … standing at around 7 feet tall … intimidating, taunting. … It was from the Spirit World … a Demon of Terrible Taunt. … It had an enormous mouth … the biggest part of its body … dripping and spitting green saliva. … Its slippery, scaly, deranged twisted body was in a constant state of movement … the body constantly twisting and twisting around in a circle … different parts of the body … it’s three arms … four legs … torso … head … tail … all twisting in different directions … at different speeds. … It’s mouth was spewing forth a Stench Unbearable … stink, stink, stink … I could smell the same Stink coming from behind me … from Samantha … as if she was oozing the same Stench Unbearable as this Hemthologot. … The Hemthologot stared at me with vacant eyes … a large taunting laugh … laughing, laughing … Taunting, Taunting, Taunting.
- Pathetic! … Yelled the Hemthologot. … Pathetic! … Ha ha ha ha! … You are truly pathetic, Nothing Man! … You think you gave this woman, Samantha, pleasure? … You truly are Nothing, Nothing Man! … You are horrible in bed … pathetic … worthless! … You think she came? … You think she had an orgasm? … Ha ha ha ha! … You’ve never given a woman an orgasm! … NEVER!
Not sure what move I should do next as I stood before the Hemthologot’s Taunts … I then felt Samantha come behind me … grab my shoulders … whisper into my ear,
- You are Nothing, Nothing Man … Nothing … worthless … pathetic … horrible … pathetic … worthless … pathetic … Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic … I hate you … I hate your penis … your worthless cock … I hate it, I hate it, I hate it …
With both the Hemthologot and Samantha now Taunting me from both sides … I decided to do something. … I reached around and gently began to caress Samantha’s vagina. … I began rubbing it and rubbing it … paying particular attention to her clit. … Soon … within a couple minutes … she began to get wet and moan. … I rubbed and rubbed her pussy … she moaned louder … louder … got more and more wet.
- Stop, Samantha! … The Hemthologot exclaimed. … What are you doing? … Stop him! … Don’t let him do that to you!
As I rubbed Samantha’s pussy and she moaned … the Hemthologot began to shrink and shrink … shrinking down to only 4 feet tall now … it slinked away into a corner of the room …weeping. … I now knew this was my time to get away. … I stopped rubbing Samantha’s pussy and sprinted for the door. … I was only in my boxer briefs but didn’t care because I knew the Hemthologot would soon be after me. … Samantha knelt down to the ground … as if the Hemthologot’s Possession of her lost its hold. … As I ran away from Samantha’s apartment building … I turned to look over my shoulder and saw the Hemthologot chasing after me. … The Hemthologot gained in confidence as it now grew to six feet tall … although I couldn’t tell by glancing back as I ran as fast as I could. … It was late morning … the sun shining through the Los Angeles haze in the sky. … Running forward while looking back at the Hemthologot … I bumped into a group of Jehovah’s Witnesses on the sidewalk. … They were shocked to see me running down the sidewalk in only my underwear. … None of them could see the Hemthologot chasing me … once the Hemthologot got into the vicinity of the Jehovah’s Witnesses … I noticed it stopped following me. … The Hemthologot spun in a circle several times around an old man … seemed to be the group’s leader … then jumped inside his body. … I stopped running and watched the group … seeing that the old man began to get ill and hold his stomach. … The others came to him to make sure he was ok. … He began to laugh with a despising smirk … then turned in my direction … smiling at me in the same Taunting way the Hemthologot did in Samantha’s apartment. … The Hemthologot had done another Possession. … Apparently it liked this old man as a host. … The old man seemed to be better and told the others to continue with their work. … As the Jehovah’s Witnesses walked away down the sidewalk … further away from Samantha’s apartment … I went back to her place. … I needed to get the Silver Cup, my stuff … then get out of there. … Hopefully Samantha was ok … hopefully there would be no further problems. … I opened her front door … walked inside Samantha’s apartment. … She was still naked … she went to resting her head against the kitchen table. … She was breathing … but asleep. … Good. … I put my clothes on … got my wallet and keys … then walked to her bookshelf. … On the floor below next to her Notebook of Damned Desire … was the Silver Cup I came for. … I looked at Samantha one last time … grabbed the Silver Cup … and left her apartment.