Vengeance of the Holy Vehm

Beneath mysterious cloaks of shining white, krukenkreuzen of burning red emblazoned upon their rigid breasts, stalk the holy judges of the high court of the realm. A sacred brotherhood of the upright; pure in their ancient blood, and of highest nobility in their infallible mission. Never is one powerful of his own accord, only at the merciful allowance of the great assembly. Without the distraction of pity the edges of their sabres execute the entrusted task. Their rightly guided judgement is none other than the devastating wallop dealt by hidden hand of The Master, all praises to his heavenly glow. Neither the semitic sands of the accursed hour glass, nor the slaves of Kronos— the dethroned one, could match the first born sons of the bringer of light! Within the courts of legitimate authority had always dwelt the immortal writ. Woe to the usurpers, the pretenders, and those who know not the sevenfold seal of their assigned place! Before the great fall they tasted no impurity. They refused to prostrate to the mockery of their image fashioned in the primeval mud, neither did they succumb to the trickery of the hermaphroditic mongrel; the eyn sof. Never did they slumber under the asclepian trance of the sabbath. It was these bearers of evolutionary destiny who slew the terror of the Mesozoic, bringing the scales of judgement upon the scaly race whom the demiurgic perverter had sired. They were the great men of renown; the sons of God. When the legendary host of the Aesir uprooted the cult of the mother-‘goddess’ whore. When the wise Wulfila rescued the purity of their faith from the clutches of bestiality! When the wrath of the sacred millennium; all the holy orders of knight-riders , repelled the advance of the orient! It was this same glorious elect who bore the red and black crosses and swastikas of the Great Vehmic assembly! Neither Etruscan inquisitions, nor Guelphic traitors, nor the era of reconstruction could swallow up the white-hooded champions of divine chastisement! The earth and all the niederenrassen cry out to the heavens to be subdued by the stampede of their celestial Calvary! Deep within the caverns, as the bogs of olden days, wait likenesses of the Madonna Venus. Each who would play the role of the defiler; the god they call father, await the same fate as he when the courage of Apollo vanquishes the sickle and the hammer, and the feminine crucifix, of the black reaper: the bringer of racial decay!

Ave rosa mystica, hüte das Helgathum Gegen den Völkerschund, die Affenflut, neige gnädigst Dein strahlendes Antlitz dem Duft hellenischer Lippen.

(Ave rosa mystica, shield the Helgathum against the racial-waste, the apeling-flood, graciously bow your radiant face to the scent of Hellenic lips.)

Frater Fritz Von Orlando Hermanovsky

Away with the pöbelvolk and the channels of their god’s peace! We will never forgive those heirs to the institutions of supreme betrayal and parasitism. Never will cunning statesmen and ungrateful popes fatten themselves off of the ferocity of the awakened Saxon Templar and Teutonic Knights! The same infantile ‘christly’ weaklings, were all too content to ride atop the shoulders of the Germanic Giant, as if we were saint Christopher and they the dwarfish jesus— at once they, as two faced as their own caducean jewish tribal totem, were just as apt to play the Judas. When they exterminated the knights of the temple to a man they brought all the coming revolutions and reformations upon themselves. After all they are baptised in the same vomit of Jewry that all the ‘heretical’ liberalising elements are drowning in. We will never forget that the negroid-halfbreed Papal States and their cuckolded envoys did everything in their power to prevent the Nordic Holy Alliance from coming to fruition! The Master will call his disciples out from among those who the whore Mother Earth has withheld birthright inheritance. Those of us men of discriminating taste, of higher inclination, who are discontent to remain within the docile herd of our misfortunate predicament. We, not ‘the meek’ are owed the inheritance of the entire earth, and are solemnly obliged to engage in acts of service toward the Holy Vehm. It is time that we exit ‘the wilderness’ and enter astrally into the holy city where the saintly elite and those who have sacrificed themselves in missions of warfare congregate. Within this paradisal catacomb of resurrection are those who have been called out from among the zombie hoard of post-modern, post-mortem, “mankind”. Let the ‘angel’ roll the ‘stone’ away and unleash the radiant splendour of the hidden pontiff; the sleeping Barbarossa, who has for far too long been in occultation. The womb of the racially pure nucleus drowns the profane in the floods of her amniotic fluid, the birth pangs shatter the earth and The Master takes on the clothing and wedding garment; the unblemished white flesh of higher-mankind. Born anew to punish the vulgar is Nietzsche’s ‘Antichrist’ and Dostoyevsky’s ‘Grand Inquisitor’. A new Nero for a new day. One who will throw the pacifist and the subversive to the lions! He who will reduce all the great metropolises of the mongrel masses to smouldering heaps of ash and barbecued retrograde carcasses, with no trace of their ridiculous toys of amusement or courtship displays left to spoil the view!

The sensual prurience, which stems from the apeling blood, from the “swirling water” is the fire, which cannot be quenched, it is the hell which today nearly all of mankind languishes weeping and gnashing its teeth. Friends, the day of “Final Judgement”, the division of men, is drawing close!

Meister Jörg Lanz Von Liebenfels, may the spirits of the ancient griffins of Germania guard him from all witchcraft as his spirit shines down upon us from mount Olympus.

We are those chosen to heed this immense call. It is we— hooded apprentices of the Vehm, who will assemble in spontinaeity when the time comes to dispel the outlawry, and to ensure that all who are due to atone will have no escape from their misery save, naturally, the grave. You, selected student of the anthropomystikon, of the primordial Aryan secrets of pure-begetting, have the blessing of the free-counts of the realm and of the hidden pontiff, the vicar on earth of The Invisible Master. Go now, to serve as they served, and to avenge as they avenged. Yours is the kingdom of God!