My journey towards bowing to the feet of the Lord of Darkness has been a long one. I can’t be sure exactly where it began, if it was when I started using coconut flour to cut gluten out of my family’s diet, or if the seeds of demon worship were planted in me when I was forcing my kids to drink chlorella-and-milk-thistle smoothies to detox their livers. But I am pretty sure that by the time I threw out all our pediatric Tylenol and replaced it with colloidal silver, my love of Ammit, the eater of souls, was already being well established.
The fish oil to Mammon pipeline is surprisingly short. One minute you’re fermenting your own cider, and next thing you know, you’re pledging the souls of your offspring to Gruumsh, he who never ceases in human destruction. I admit that it must have been part of my online algorithm, because it was within weeks of buying that anti-fluoride chelating solution that I started getting targeted ads promising me a seat at the right hand of the Fallen One.
A lot of folks get all judgy when they hear about how my kids are suffering from totally preventable diseases and exposing other people to them because I refused to vaccinate. But I just remind them that the purity of blood ensured by Baphomet requires the sacrifice of innocents, and our society can only achieve the greatness it deserves if the weak are weeded out from the strong.
When it comes to my little ones’ health care, I do my own research. By which I mean I consult with the ancient Luciferian texts that foretell the death of compassion as we enter into the New Era of cruelty and despair. They’re all digitized online, after all, at theabysspeersback.com, which offers trustworthy information about functional medicine and its potential to lengthen our lives and make us all supermen if we just take the right supplements and avoid antibiotics for treatable bacterial infections.
My sister gets mad at me when she sees my posts, and she tells me that I am giving organic food a bad name by claiming it prevents autism and will usher in the new race of Baal’s children. She says, “I don’t want to give my kids too much blue dye in their candy either, but do we really have to commit our bodies, minds, and hearts to Aeshma and his blood-soaked shroud of power?” Sis, if you have to ask, you’ve probably got too much thimerosal floating around in your bloodstream.
To the people who don’t like the direction things are heading in and are stuck lamenting the price of eggs, just get your own chickens, I say. Problem solved. Plus, when you have a surplus, you can slaughter the foul on your altar to the Father of Mercilessness and await his many blessings of strength and domination over your enemies.
At the end of the day, we all just want to do what’s best for our kiddos. And for me, that means guaranteeing my unquestioning allegiance to He Who Summons Flies to Feast on the Flesh of the Vulnerable. And speaking of which, my skin has never looked better thanks to all this vitamin A.