Channeled writing form THE Pan
Bear-Heart (the voice in our videos) has been on a long retreat seeking an audience with
one of the most, noticeable, powerful and elusive deities’ earth has even known. Pan. We
received word that late last night after days of fasting, rituals and callings Bear-Heart was
blessed with a meeting with Pan.
What transpired is exactly as we received his writings.
Half awake and half dream, alone on a windswept hill, under a lonely and leaning tree
thrusting out of a patch of datura flowers, even in the night wind their smell hung thick. A
heavy pressure came over me, my skin prickled and my hair stood on end. The electrical
current now running through my body was the old tell tale sign. A powerful spirit had
drawn close to me/ Magick in its purest, religious ecstasy, so strong did it wash over me I
wept like a widow, I laughed like a wild man, I lamented like a sage and confounded
around like a madman, before me stood he who was more than the sum of all my parts.
He who knows why I laughed, why I cried, why I lamented and why I confounded so
even when I hadn’t a clue. He who was primal before primal became primal.
He stood before, knelt down to me, sat next to me and stepped into me all at the same
time. There was no angle he did not cover, no space he did not fill, no level he did not
inhabit no spot he did not hold. I saw my face in his, amplified a million times. I there was
more of me reflected back in his deep eternal pools of amber eyes then there was of me
looking into them.
“I am Pan”, he said to me. I don’t know why he told me that, as if he could be anyone
else, as if anyone else could be him, but he just saying it sent me over whatever edge of
remaining consciousness I was teetering on and I began spiraling backwards through
myself and Pan followed.
It was like a dream in full surround sound, I was just “there” a recorder for him to speak
Pan was all that Pan was supposed to be, only sharper, stronger, faster, more beautiful,
primal, compassionate and fierce.
“It’s up to them and only them Bear-Heart. You can only deliver the message and hope it
takes root. Like the stud Elk that bugles out the warning to its herd that trouble is coming,
you stand on that hill top, not as a king but a champion, humble and true to your intent of
compassionate action so that others my help defend others, others may help build better
defenses, others who are stronger and smarter than you can get to work and once you
are done with your bugle you can join them, you together, stronger than the sum of all
I was here long before the scaled ones came. I watched them twist and corrupt your
fellows chase them through two tunnels, one red and one green, watched them implant
alien programming into their sub-atomic, near their most subtle forms of existence. I
watched them teach your fellows greed, sexual extortion, fear, humiliation, pain
compliance and psychological warfare. I watch them cull the weakest, most fearful, most
willing to submit before the scaled king and queens and elevate them to the status of
“royalty” among your fellows. Those who descend from those original humans so willing
to become traitors to their own race are now the same humans who fill positions of false
power and hold worthless titles around the world.
Their power did not come from strength or courage, but from fear and betrayal.
It will be up to your fellows to see through that crafty web of illusion these rotten and foul
few have spun.
Your fellows are like a towering hill full of fire ants, whose number is truly awe inspiring.
You all want the same things. At your core you’re all basically the same. You want love,
shelter, food and people to play your games with. It’s the rotten few of you, like a couple
diseased serpents who have slithered in and threaded to tear down your hill if you don’t
fall in line.
What you need to do is begin to march again them, like a fiery vortex of stinging and
pinching mandibles devouring, burning and eroding all the vile and tainted in your path,
like the forest fire clears away the dead and decaying to give nourishment to the soil and
clear away for fresh new life, the Illuminati is dead crusted lizards who have forgotten that
they can die and who would turn on each other like rats on a sinking ship.