Victory of the Older Gods

The first man who, having fenced in a piece of land, said "This is mine," and found people naive enough to believe him, that man was the true founder of civil society. For how many crimes, wars, and murders, from how many horrors and misfortunes might not any one have saved mankind, by pulling up the stakes, or filling up the ditch, and crying to his fellows: Beware of listening to this impostor; you are undone if you once forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and the earth itself to nobody.

-Jean Jacques Rousseau

It started on a peach blossom afternoon.

In South Carolina during the years of the American Civil War, there were two plantations worth speaking of.

The first was owned by a man named Henry James Longfellow who had an affinity for Roman antiquities, military history, and all things Rational. He owned quite a bit of land, and many slaves to tend them. He named his favorite slaves after the Roman Pantheon of Gods and Goddesses, each according to their most prevalent traits and abilities.

The second plantation was owned by a man, whose name is not as important, with an affinity for Ancient Greece, the fertile sod from which the latter did sprout. Therefore, as the forgotten father of western civilization, he named his favorite slaves after the members of the Greek pantheon.

The Roman house and the Greek House had a habit of selling their slaves to each other, so that the blood lines of the Greek and Roman slave houses were almost indistinguishable; be that as it may.

It started on a peach blossom afternoon in may that the Greek House had a visitor, a friend of the Master’s who had opened a new business in New Orleans. He had brought with him, his favorite House Negro, a Mulatto whom he had dubbed Zoroaster for his propensity with words and power of logic. Zoroaster had a master over poetry and was quite adroit at reciting Shakespeare and playing, of all things, the cello.

His complexion was rather light, and his facial feature and hands somewhat effeminate. If one had not known the lowliness of his birth, he may be mistaken for a Persian, Egyptian, or even dare I say a Spaniard! He carried with him a most strange odor of Sulphor and Roses in the breast of his frock which he acquired when once he was a Freeman.

Over the course of their stay, Zoroaster quickly became a favorable presence in the house. Reciting stories of Bourbonic debauchery afterhours, showing magic tricks, etc. But at night, he would steal away to the slave quarters and commune with the field negros. For many nights he bedded Daphne, laughed with Zeus, caught the allure of Hera, wrestled Heracles, tended the fire with Artemio, and rose voices with Mercurio.
One night, as the blossoms were fading, and the fruit of their branches became heavy spoke, Zoroaster. “My brothers”, “there is great change coming to this land. Everyday, more young men from the southern republic are conscripted to fight the United armies of the Northern Alliance. They come closer to Parthenon House every day, soon they will come to Sweet Home. Men, white and black will burn this place to the ground. The women will be raped or thrown to empty streets, the men pierced with bayonets and rifled bullets should they protest. They will burn the Akropolis to the ground, and they will say they have set you free to roam the fields like ghosts or coerce you to join them in arms to further exploits, and slaughter. I have heard your master, pray at odd hours of the morning with his family in the parlor, sending the house Negroes of your stock out of the Manor.”. After the ominous tenor of this prologue, his voice became sweeter, more treacly.

“I once had a master, many years ago before I discovered the sweet taste of mortal freedom, who was quite fond of a man called Rousseau. His is a voice that is heard by many white ears, and the tenor of that voice has caused much innocent blood to be shed, for the truth he speaks is one of annihilation, to sow the ashes of a world anew. My brothers and sisters if we are to be part of the re-construction of this new world, we must heed his words which I will share with you now. though, I have not the power of memory I wish to be blessed with, fortune has allowed me to share this page of verse which I have stole away.










“The passage from the state of nature to the civil state produces a very remarkable change in man, by substituting justice for instinct in his conduct, and giving his actions the morality they had formerly lacked. Then only, when the voice of duty takes the place of physical impulses and right of appetite, does man, who so far had considered only himself, find that he is forced to act on different principles, and to consult his reason before listening to his inclinations. Although, in this state, he deprives himself of some advantages which he got from nature, he gains in return others so great, his faculties are so stimulated and developed, his ideas so extended, his feelings so ennobled, and his whole soul so uplifted, that, did not the abuses of this new condition often degrade him below that which he left, he would be bound to bless continually the happy moment which took him from it for ever, and, instead of a stupid and unimaginative animal, made him an intelligent being and a man.[20]



The masters of your house worship a god that is far away in an imaginary land beyond the sky, and they deceive you to worship the same though they have given you yourselves the names of truer older gods. Why then do they not worship you? The presence of their god is here in you. They have named you each based on the qualities that those gods were said to hold. If the white man says you are not a man because you are black, he tries to make you believe you are a beast. But you know in your heart you are not a beast, nor a man like the Whites. They tell you this because they fear the words of Rousseau. You are not a beast, and you are not a man, you are Gods, but much Older Gods than the white man can comprehend. It is society that has made the white man evil and brought us here in chains. Our forefathers when they were first brought to the Hulks thought they were to be killed and eaten. That the white devils would devour our sun kissed flesh for our power. They are not beasts, cannibals in this way, they are worse. Monsters of Reason ruled by superstition and fear. They keep us out of society and therefore untainted by its influence. We remain my brothers in a state of nature, closer to the True God than any of them could ever hope to come. The presence of God is in His creation. As we are born in this world, there again God is born. Here hath come Hera again to the earth, that is you sister. Here again hath Zeus found flesh, you my brother. You have seen what evil the white man’s society hath wrought so much upon themselves that they must drag innocents away from their hearths and homes to a strange land foreign to both where evil can reign unbridled. They sting your flesh with whips, mock you to your face and behind you as well. But we bear it to till the earth and harvet her bounty. Because we are stronger than they. We are good, because God is good, and all the closer to him for our ostracization from society.

Do you know the history of your names and of your master’s friend at the Villa Romana? The romans conquered the Greeks, and stole their gods then gave them new names. The romans, like the greeks built a vast empire and finally were undone by their own evils. Their greed, lust, selfishness and violence, arrogance was their downfall. The people of gual and the gaelic lands, the Visigoths raided Rome and natural men such as ourselves whose gods were older still than

After the midnight sermon. Zoroaster stole back into the house. The next morning, a man on horseback came with an urgent message, that the Villa Columbia had been raided by the northern army. There were no young men left in the area to defend the Akropolis, so the master prepared for a fight. The slaves raided the house, to massacre the master and his children and wife only to find that Zoroaster had poisoned their food and left them in their beds.

The slaves marched to the Villa Columbia to be reunited with their lost love ones. What they found was desolation.

Over the course of the battle, roman







As Zeus left the now deserted front drive, he found a message inscribed in some sort of fluid on the side of the icehouse. He stared long and hard at the text, yet was unable to decipher it. he was mostly illiterate after all. He found Diana, a lighter skinned girl who was a house maid and had performed “services” for the master of the old house, Villa Romana before the fall. “Can you read what that spell out there girl?” She replied, “My lit’racy is cursory surrah, but I sho will read for ya what I cans.”. She began reading to herself before reading aloud, then exclaimed. “Surrah, I think we bes’ be gittin the othas ovah here to read whus written on this icehouse. I have an urge that it may be more than the two of us alone should see with our own two eyes. They rushed about the place, through the abandoned ruins of the villa Romana, still in flames finding any person left standing that they could to come and read the message on the side of the icehouse.

I have seen whites lost in the hills speaking in tongues trying in vain to speak the language of God. It is all non-sense evil gibberish, below infantile. Fondling serpents, wailing to the hollers. Negroes as well, wailing, beating their breasts to a God that is not there’s nor can be said to hear the catter-walling of any lowly thing upon this earth. Look no longer to the heavens for your salvation, we are in them. God is as dead as the vitality of your flesh should the white devil succeed in driving it from you with whips and fire. God lives as one mind in all minds, beats as one heart in an endless pulse.

The earth will shake with their footfalls. The future is splayed before the lashings of their tongues. Paxim Romana. Today’s Victory belongs to the Older Gods. Rome has fallen, Reason is yet to rise. Thus Spake Zoroaster.