kimberlysteele | The Demonic Infestation of the Left Part V: A Curse and a Blessing

In my final essay of this series, I will be discussing why curses do not work and why blessings, though not as easy to formulate, are the best strategy for overcoming demons. Next week I am planning to write about the symbolism of masks and why they have precious little to do with the actual preservation of human health.

The class of people who bought into and perpetuated the COVID-19 phenomenon were and are largely salaried professionals who grew up in environments of extreme privilege yet see themselves as the middle class because they don't have as much as the successful Hollywood director or tech startup guru. We will call them the PMC or the Professional Managerial Class. PMCs grew up under the umbrella of wealth.

Shielded by luxury, the PMC finds no comfort in excesses of basics that people of lower classes cannot take for granted. Food strewn about their personal landscape is only an opportunity to be tempted and to become fat. Shelter or the lack of shelter isn't a concern either: there's almost always a house and/or its proceeds donated by a doting, deceased family member to fall back on and if all else fails, stocks and bonds can be sold off to provide a safety net. As far as jobs are concerned, their class works hard, but the work isn't a quarter as challenging as the benefit free, do-it-all-and-get-yelled-at-anyway convenience store job or the debasement of the retail sales floor. They are drowning in perks they did nothing to earn, and they believe they hit a home run when they were born on third base.

Poor Little Rich Kids

Despite the freedom material wealth affords, PMCs are miserable. Their lives suck. They battle severe depression that is always teetering on the knife edge of a three month-long descent into a black hole that ends with a bottle of Azipam chased with a quart of Grey Goose. They are perpetually anxious, tormented by a nearly unbroken fight or flight response gone haywire. They are angry. Some retreat into social justice activism, which helps to allay the suicidal despair I mentioned above and also provides an outlet for the energy generated by constant anxiety. Others go the sleazy Ahrimanic evil route, like Jeffrey Epstein, who allegedly needed orgasms with three young teenage girls per day in order to function.

Others still turn to curses. Michael Hughes is the most obvious example with his trash compactor hexes of Trump that combine mismatched planets, inauspicious moons, whatever ancient god or goddess that seemed cool that day, and high school poetry magazine submissions disguised as spells. His female counterparts stage their Satan-lite altars for Instagram, inflaming paranoid Christians while hoping to make enough money as witchy influencers despite not believing in the forces they invoke. Hughes and his pals engage in the formalized version of what regular media socialites do without the quasi-magical pomp and circumstance: they throw around bad intentions in public while sustaining the background belief that god does not exist and that karma does not apply to them. My theory is they have now done this enough times to attract and become infested by demons, a.k.a. large incorporeal beings who hate humanity and become invisible parasites upon those stupid or unfortunate enough to extend the invitation to feed.

Dissecting the Curse

The word "curse" has a murky etymology. In the University of Michigan Press's Middle English Compendium, the etymology of the word curse is attributed to the Latin "cursus" or "course" as in the Christian liturgy, implying a formula of readings performed four times a year.

My definition of a curse is an imposed cycle upon someone or something (places and objects can also be cursed) intended to punish the subject of the curse whenever they try to repeat the behavior the curser intends to prevent them from doing. If you've ever seen the Stanley Kubrick film A Clockwork Orange, Alex, a gleeful murderer and rapist, ends up being ineffectively punished via cruel attempts at aversion where he is trained to associate the his own violent behaviors with the physical pain delivered by his torturers. After a few close calls and a suicide attempt, a newly released "rehabilitated" Alex goes back to his old ways with renewed vigor.

In A Clockwork Orange, Alex is put through a curse. His torturers who try to reprogram his mind via cycles of punishment only serve to create a better and more shady criminal. Prison sentences are curses laid upon transgressors by the State. Though they are meant to trap the prisoner in a place where he is ostensibly prevented from committing crimes, we can all agree the worst types of crimes, such as pedophilia, have high recidivism rates. Prison doesn't help anyone except those who get off on punishing others.

When we look at the anatomy of a curse, is the point of it to prevent the offender from reoffending, or is it to provide a dopamine rush of self-righteousness in the curse-thrower who believes they are doing good?

But Kimberly, you ask, if cursing is like heroin for the self-righteous and prison doesn't work, how should we handle murderers? Well, personally, I'm all for Hammurabi's Code type punishments for murder. Hang a murderer and in five minutes or less, we can let God sort it out. Some crimes are worse than others and it is my belief that the western approach is hard where it should be soft and soft where it should be hard. The bottom line is that most of us are not about to go to prison for our crimes, so we need to identify other examples of what cursing entails and other patterns where intention is aimed as an imposed cycle of hurt.

Most cunning serpent, you shall no more dare to deceive the human race, persecute the Church, torment God's elect and sift them as wheat.

The Most High God commands you, + He with whom, in your great insolence, you still claim to be equal.

"God who wants all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth." [1 Tim. 2:4)

-Excerpt from the Catholic Exorcism Prayer

Mad As Hell

Before I go all love and light on you, I would like to share how angry I am at my leftist friends and acquaintances. Well, clearly I wouldn't write five articles on accusing leftists of being possessed and obsessed by demons if I didn't have a modicum of anger to stew. Leftists caused and elongated the shutdown that nearly took my livelihood. They succeeded in ruining and damaging millions of small businesses via exacerbated panic and then rioting, they killed people of every color under the banners of BLM and Antifa, and they had the gall to lie about it, calling the rioters "peaceful protestors" and mask wearing "scientific". Though I do blame their behavior on the demons who I believe are infesting them, they still bear the burden of ultimate responsibility for the way they have carried on in the last four years.

I'm done with them. I would much rather be alone than have friends of such low, down-with-the-demons character. My strategy for dealing with leftists, though I don't necessarily recommend it to anyone, is this:

-If the person is someone I do not know, for instance, a random social justice type on Facebook who I wouldn't recognize by name, I look for signs of Trump derangement, pro-BLM signaling, or mask wearing. If they have any of the above, I immediately block them.

-If the person is an acquaintance and I see the above signs, I consider blocking them and I refuse any form of conversation about the above topics with threats that I will cut them out of my life. If I felt they could have a rational conversation, I wouldn't come down like a hammer. You cannot argue with the possessed -- it's an exorcism basic!

-If the person is my friend, I resolve to keep them at a careful distance until the election. If they confront me about any of the above topics, I flat out refuse to discuss it (um hello, they can read my blog) and put them on a top priority discursive meditation list to consider what to do about them after a few months have passed. I am considering cut and clear spells if it comes to that.

Gratitude: Easier Said Than Done

Curses are easy. Blessings are hard. Think of how readily an embarrassing or painful memory surfaces, or guilt. Now try to come up with a random, overwhelmingly positive memory. Not so quick, is it? As humans, we are hard-wired to recall pain, suffering, and misery. Happiness and bliss aren't remembered so much as chased.

If you want to be blessed, try gratitude. Gratitude is the first blessing. To give heartfelt thanks is to humble yourself before the gods, even if you don't technically believe in gods. The sheer ingratitude of our era explains a great deal of our cultural misery. A PMC friend once gratitude-shamed me when I thanked the owner of a now defunct hole in the wall restaurant for offering great vegan options. My friend snarkily commented, "You know you have to pay for the meal, right?" To him, every act of kindness is a transaction. Every gesture of grace boils down to a dollar sign, a tit for tat. This is the sort of person who becomes obsessed with getting something for nothing. Gratitude is a quaint bit of woo that comes from nothing and disappears into the gaping void.

As you can imagine, the inhabitant of such a gray and materialist world is a woeful being. They curse because they are angry and depressed (with a deep terror of being left completely alone) but it couldn't possibly be their own fault, so the answer is to foist the blame on someone else. The first "someone" they blame is their parents. The second is their society. They begin hexing and cursing their enemies, calling for various justices but actually just wanting to lash out and trap Trump or Bolsinaro or Johnson in a cycle of repeating physical and mental anguish. Of course by throwing that trash out there, they end up with blowback. Trash also stinks, and it attracts demons. Cursing does not work, and trying to bring someone down only results in your own downfall. If your enemy truly bothers you that much, ignore them and go around them if they stand in the way. If you truly hate the hatred, however, you will genuinely and honestly bless them.

It's pretty tough to bless a person or group you are mad at, so instead of that, I suggest starting with number one. I'm not suggesting you always bless yourself, though it would be kind of hilarious for all members of the public to shout "Bless me!" the next time they sneezed, however, I am suggesting the supplanting of the urge to curse with the immediate blessing of someone you love.

For instance, I stopped using curse words because I don't want to be like the people who seem to be the most predisposed towards foul language at the moment. For every urge to use a curse word, instead of putting a dollar in a jar, I try to say a kind or loving thing to the cherished people around me.

If you have no person or pet to bless, you can bless your place. Even if that place is a tent on the (rhymes with city) streets of the Castro district, you can bless it. You can get formal with frankincense and sage or you can informally steal a moment to focus your mind, asking the gods, Jesus, or whomever you acknowledge is smarter and better than you to bless your space. I am currently in the process of writing a book called Sacred Homemaking about the spirit of place and the ways we can go about amplifying the power of blessings via every trick in my arsenal and then some.

We all have something to be grateful for. When I was at my lowest point of depression in high school, I missed many opportunities to be grateful for my wonderful parents, my decent health, and the beautiful food that seemed to overflow from every cupboard. I am not saying that we should create snares of positivity for ourself that act like horse blinders -- being grateful should be accompanied by an assessment of that which does not elicit gratitude (does it spark joy? Yeah I had to go there). As a teen, I had a boyfriend I settled for, and I was lazy. My emotional storms and inability to look at my real blessings clouded my vision. I should have broken up with the boyfriend and dealt with my laziness and weakness instead of feeling guilty for wanting to be grateful for my devoted boyfriend and the wallowing in the luxury of being a lout.

To defeat the demons infesting the Left, we should become what demons cannot stand. If demons have turned leftists into babbling automatons of hate and authoritarianism, we can defeat them by becoming more thoughtful and analytical, employing discursive meditation every day. We can resolve to take a "you do you and I'll just go around if necessary" attitude no matter how disgusted we are by their behavior. Instead of cursing and throwing around ill will, we can bless. Give someone an authentic compliment. Share what you have. Pay it forward. Light a candle in the memory of someone you loved and take the time to remember why you loved them and how they brought you joy. Light a candle to a great philosopher or a hero. Kiss your dog or cat if they'll let you. Memorize a beautiful poem or a prayer. Recite it aloud. Take cursing out of your language. Learn an instrument so you can fill your home with music. Decorate a corner or a whole room with Aphrodite in mind. Pick up trash in the forest preserve. It's a small, blessed act of informal consecration that will encourage others to do the same. Look to ways to work the soil, even if it's only in the form of houseplants. Every little bit counts said the witch as she peed into the ocean. Be blessed!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From: (Anonymous)

Interesting. Recently I've decided that the key thing for me to remember is magnanimity in the face of those I'd rather excoriate, in my mind, at any rate, because magnanimity comes from a deeper place, and is harder to achieve, and benefits me (more). "Charity" is an older word to use in this context, as in Paul the apostle's faith, hope, and charity (these days often translated as "love", but love can mean so many things, even as "charity" is a bit antiquated except in a very specific sense). It's interesting therefore to see you use bless vs. curse in this same context. Bless you! :-)

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The Demonic Infestation of the Left Part V: A Curse and a Blessing

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