Picture books and the light of God.

[Anonymous No.18256421]

Many of you are nihilists, depraved edgelords, disgusting libertines, and pretentious buffoons who think the Truth can be found solely in "mature works". The reality is that one must move back towards a primordial simple light while remaining cognizant of the darkness.
I realized I was a prophet not too long ago. I had immersed myself deeply into Ahriman's darkness, in the transgressive or bleak trash that was Emil Cioran, Lovecraft, Zapffe, Ligotti, and much more. In fact, I published a horror story of my own, and I want all my fans to know that I hate them unless they are purified.
Not too long ago I sat underneath a nice oak tree while listening to the birds and cracked open a picture book. It was then God spoke to me, and I later realized the Gathas described His nature the best.
Many of you nihilists must be purified. For this reason I propose locking you inside cages whereby you shall be lashed and forced to read wholesome children's literature such as Beatrix Potter, The Secret Garden, and Wind in the Willows. By breaking down the barrier of self and the light, which children's literature best serves as a proxy towards, is one effective means to be purified.
Picture books are not just directed to children. You are fools for claiming otherwise. For example, take Inga Moore's A House in the Woods. It is about an inward movement to the light within one's heart, a kind of elusive Love, which can also be manifested in wholesome deeds like building a nice log cabin in the woods with fellow helpers. The piggies who helped build this are agents of Ohrmazd (yazatas), and they were graciously award with pb&j sandwiches, which shows the reciprocal nature of light in regards to one's good deeds.
Many picture books are like this. They are concentrated forms of Love.
I have recently been watching Calico Critter's Mini-Episodes, which seems to be heavily influenced by Jill Barklem's Brambly Hedge series. This series truly makes me teary-eyed, and I can hear Ahura Mazda whisper into my ears. The Calico Critters are most certainly real. They are real in my heart, no doubt:
https://youtu.be/jlGK6QzQ-V4
To those who laugh or mock me, thinking we are all akin to Ligottian puppets or this life is a joke with no bottom turtle, you will plummet to Ahriman's House of Lies, no doubt. You tarnish your inner spirits by making a mockery of the light. You must be purified. You will open your heart one way or another when the time comes. You will see that high-quality picture books are bestowed by the light of God.
Also, does anyone have any connections to literary agents?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18256447]

Gonna post a wholesome story by Dunsany, innocence is kino.

When the worlds and All began the gods were stern and old and They saw the Beginning from under eyebrows hoar with years, all but Inzana, Their child, who played with the golden ball. Inzana was the child of all the gods. And the law before the Beginning and thereafter was that all should obey the gods, yet hither and thither went all Pegāna’s gods to obey the Dawnchild because she loved to be obeyed.

It was dark all over the world and even in Pegāna, where dwell the gods, it was dark when the child Inzana, the Dawn, first found her golden ball. Then running down the stairway of the gods with tripping feet, chalcedony, onyx, chalcedony, onyx, step by step, she cast her golden ball across the sky. The golden ball went bounding up the sky, and the Dawnchild with her flaring hair stood laughing upon the stairway of the gods, and it was day. So gleaming fields below saw the first of all the days that the gods have destined. But towards evening certain mountains, afar and aloof, conspired to- gether to stand between the world and the golden ball and to wrap their crags about it and to shut it from the world, and all the world was darkened with their plot. And the Dawnchild up in Pegāna cried for her golden ball. Then all the gods came down the stairway right to Pegāna’s gate to see what ailed the Dawnchild and to ask her why she cried. Then Inzana said that her golden ball had been taken away and hidden by mountains black and ugly, far away from Pegāna, all in a world of rocks under the rim of the sky, and she wanted her golden ball and could not love the dark.
Thereat Umborodom, whose hound was the thunder, took his hound in leash, and strode away across the sky after the golden ball until he came to the mountains afar and aloof. There did the thun- der put his nose to the rocks and bay along the valleys, and fast
at his heels followed Umborodom. And the nearer the hound, the thunder, came to the golden ball the louder did he bay, but haughty and silent stood the mountains whose plot had darkened the world. All in the dark among the crags in a mighty cavern, guarded by two twin peaks, at last they found the golden ball for which the Dawnchild wept. Then under the world went Umborodom with
his thunder panting behind him, and came in the dark before the morning from underneath the world and gave the Dawnchild back her golden ball. And Inzana laughed and took it in her hands, and Umborodom went back into Pegāna, and at its threshold the thun- der went to sleep.
Again the Dawnchild tossed the golden ball far up into the blue across the sky, and the second morning shone upon the world, on lakes and oceans, and on drops of dew. But as the ball went bound-ing on its way, the prowling mists and the rain conspired together and took it and wrapped it in their tattered cloaks and carried it away. And through the rents in their garments gleamed the golden ball,

Cont.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18256456]

>>18256447
but they held it fast and carried it right away and underneath the world. Then on an onyx step Inzana sat down and wept, who could no more be happy without her golden ball. And again the gods were sorry, and the South Wind came to tell her tales of most enchanted islands, to whom she listened not, nor yet to the tales of temples in lone lands that the East Wind told her, who had stood beside her when she flung her golden ball. But from far away the West Wind came with news of three grey travellers wrapt round with battered cloaks that carried away between them a golden ball.
Then up leapt the North Wind, he who guards the pole, and drew his sword of ice out of his scabbard of snow and sped away along the road that leads across the blue. And in the darkness underneath the world he met the three grey travellers and rushed upon them and drove them far before him, smiting them with his sword till their grey cloaks streamed with blood. And out of the midst of them, as they fled with flapping cloaks all red and grey and tat- tered, he leapt up with the golden ball and gave it to the Dawn- child.
Again Inzana tossed the ball into the sky, making the third day, and up and up it went and fell towards the fields, and as Inzana stooped to pick it up she suddenly heard the singing of all the birds that were. All the birds in the world were singing all together and also all the streams, and Inzana sat and listened and thought of no golden ball, nor ever of chalcedony and onyx, nor of all her fathers the gods, but only of all the birds. Then in the woods and mead- ows where they had all suddenly sung, they suddenly ceased. And Inzana, looking up, found that her ball was lost, and all alone in the stillness one owl laughed. When the gods heard Inzana crying for her ball They clustered together on the threshold and peered into the dark, but saw no golden ball. And leaning forward They cried out to the bat as he passed up and down: “Bat that seest all things, where is the golden ball?”
And though the bat answered none heard. And none of the winds

had seen it nor any of the birds, and there were only the eyes of
the gods in the darkness peering for the golden ball. Then said the gods: “Thou hast lost thy golden ball,” and They made her a moon of silver to roll about the sky. And the child cried and threw it upon the stairway and chipped and broke its edges and asked for the golden ball. And Limpang Tung, the Lord of Music, who was least of all the gods, because the child cried still for her golden ball, stole out of Pegāna and crept across the sky, and found the birds
of all the world sitting in trees and ivy, and whispering in the dark. He asked them one by one for news of the golden ball. Some had last seen it on a neighbouring hill and others in trees, though none knew where it was.

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18256467]

>>18256456

A heron had seen it lying in a pond, but a wild duck in some reeds had seen it last as she came home across the hills, and then it was rolling very far away.
At last the cock cried out that he had seen it lying beneath the world. There Limpang Tung sought it and the cock called to him through the darkness as he went, until at last he found the golden ball. Then Limpang Tung went up into Pegāna and gave it to the Dawnchild, who played with the moon no more. And the cock and all his tribe cried out: “We found it. We found the golden ball.”
Again Inzana tossed the ball afar, laughing with joy to see it, her hands stretched upwards, her golden hair afloat, and carefully she watched it as it fell. But alas! it fell with a splash into the great sea and gleamed and shimmered as it fell till the waters became dark above it and could be seen no more. And men on the world said: “How the dew has fallen, and how the mists set in with breezes from the streams.”
But the dew was the tears of the Dawnchild, and the mists were her sighs when she said: “There will no more come a time when I play with my ball again, for now it is lost for ever.”
And the gods tried to comfort Inzana as she played with her sil- ver moon, but she would not hear Them, and went in tears to Slid, where he played with gleaming sails, and in his mighty treasury turned over gems and pearls and lorded it over the sea. And she said: “O Slid, whose soul is in the sea, bring back my golden ball.”
And Slid stood up, swarthy, and clad in seaweed, and might-ily dived from the last chalcedony step out of Pegāna’s threshold straight into ocean. There on the sand, among the battered navies of the nautilus and broken weapons of the swordfish, hidden by dark water, he found the golden ball. And coming up in the night, all green and dripping, he carried it gleaming to the stairway of the gods and brought it back to Inzana from the sea; and out of the hands of Slid she took it and tossed it far and wide over his sails and sea, and far away it shone on lands that knew not Slid, till it came to its zenith and dropped towards the world.

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18256473]

>>18256467
But ere it fell the Eclipse dashed out from his hiding, and rushed at the golden ball and seized it in his jaws. When Inzana saw the Eclipse bearing her plaything away she cried aloud to the thunder, who burst from Pegāna and fell howling upon the throat of the Eclipse, who dropped the golden ball and let it fall towards earth. But the black mountains disguised themselves with snow, and as the golden ball fell down towards them they turned their peaks to ruby crimson and their lakes to sapphires gleaming amongst silver, and Inzana saw a jewelled casket into which her plaything fell. But when she stooped to pick it up again she found no jewelled casket with rubies, silver or sapphires, but only wicked mountains dis- guised in snow that had trapped her golden ball. And then she cried because there was none to find it, for the thunder was far away chasing the Eclipse, and all the gods lamented when They saw her sorrow. And Limpang Tung, who was least of all the gods, was yet the saddest at the Dawnchild’s grief, and when the gods said: “Play with your silver moon,” he stepped lightly from the rest, and com- ing down the stairway of the gods, playing an instrument of music, went out towards the world to find the golden ball because Inzana wept.
And into the world he went till he came to the nether cliffs that stand by the inner mountains in the soul and heart of the earth where the Earthquake dwelleth alone, asleep but astir as he sleeps, breathing and moving his legs, and grunting aloud in the dark. Then in the ear of the Earthquake Limpang Tung said a word that only the gods may say, and the Earthquake started to his feet and flung the cave away, the cave wherein he slept between the cliffs

and shook himself and went galloping abroad and overturned the mountains that hid the golden ball, and bit the earth beneath them and hurled their crags about and covered himself with rocks and fallen hills, and went back ravening and growling into the soul of the earth, and there lay down and slept again for a hundred years. And the golden ball rolled free, passing under the shattered earth, and so rolled back to Pegāna; and Limpang Tung came home to the onyx step and took the Dawnchild by the hand and told not what he had done but said it was the Earthquake, and went away to sit at the feet of the gods. But Inzana went and patted the Earthquake on the head, for she said it was dark and lonely in the soul of the earth. Thereafter, returning step by step, chalcedony, onyx, chalcedony, onyx, up the stairway of the gods, she cast again her golden ball from the

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18256481]

>>18256473
Threshold afar into the blue to gladden the world and the sky, and laughed to see it go.
And far away Trogool upon the utter Rim turned a page that was numbered six in a cipher that none might read. And as the golden ball went through the sky to gleam on lands and cities, there came the Fog towards it, stooping as he walked with his dark brown cloak about him, and behind him slunk the Night. And as the gold- en ball rolled past the Fog suddenly Night snarled and sprang upon it and carried it away. Hastily Inzana gathered the gods and said: “The Night hath seized my golden ball and no god alone can find it now, for none can say how far the Night may roam, who prowls all round us and out beyond the worlds.”
At the entreaty of Their Dawnchild all the gods made Them- selves stars for torches, and far away through all the sky followed the tracks of Night as far as he prowled abroad. And at one time Slid, with the Pleiades in his hand, came nigh to the golden ball, and at another Yoharneth-Lahai, holding Orion for a torch, but lastly Limpang Tung, bearing the morning star, found the golden ball far away under the world near to the lair of Night.
And all the gods together seized the ball, and Night turning smote out the torches of the gods and thereafter slunk away; and all the gods in triumph marched up the gleaming stairway of the gods,

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18256489]

>>18256481
all praising little Limpang Tung, who through the chase had fol-lowed Night so close in search of the golden ball. Then far below on the world a human child cried out to the Dawnchild for the golden ball, and Inzana ceased from her play that illumined world and sky, and cast the ball from the Threshold of the gods to the lit- tle human child that played in the fields below, and would one day die. And the child played all day long with the golden ball down in the little fields where the humans lived, and went to bed at evening and put it beneath his pillow, and went to sleep, and no one worked in all the world because the child was playing. And the light of the golden ball streamed up from under the pillow and out through the half shut door and shone in the western sky, and Yoharneth-Lahai in the night time tip-toed into the room, and took the ball gently (for he was a god) away from under the pillow and brought it back to the Dawnchild to gleam on an onyx step.
But some day Night shall seize the golden ball and carry it right away and drag it down to his lair, and Slid shall dive from the Threshold into the sea to see if it be there, and coming up when
the fishermen draw their nets shall find it not, nor yet discover it among the sails. Limpang Tung shall seek among the birds and shall not find it when the cock is mute, and up the valleys shall go Umborodom to seek among the crags. And the hound, the thunder, shall chase the Eclipse and all the gods go seeking with Their stars, but never find the ball. And men, no longer having light of the golden ball, shall pray to the gods no more, who, having no wor- ship, shall be no more the gods.
These things be hidden even from the gods.

[Anonymous No.18256617]

>>18256447
>>18256456
>>18256467
>>18256473
>>18256481
>>18256489
It does appear Time (Zurvan) makes a mockery of all gods, including the golden ball.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18256982]

>>18256617
All of dunsany’s work is laced with purest innocence and a king-James-like prose, and all of them have hanging overhead time and transience, and the beauty of eternal things and of harmony with nature. I think many would enjoy him if they tried him.

A poem of his.

Raw materials by Dunsany

THE down on the uncaught wing,
The dream that will not abide,
Sheep-bells softly a-ring
In fields that horizons hide,

The glow of remembered dawns,
Dew on the spider’s snare,
Light late on old lawns
Out of the fading air,

The mystery lurking just
On the other sides of trees,
Tales from books that are dust
Blown by on the breeze;

All that our ordered days
Fail to bring to our door,
Elves of the wood, and fays
Of the moonlight out on the moor;

Of these is poetry wrought,
And, when history’s over,
These by hearts shall be sought,
As bees yearn to the clover.

[Anonymous No.18257126]

>>18256982
I did read a bit of Lord Dunsany in the past, mostly the myths on Mana-Yood-Sushai. I will revisit him with more thoroughness soon. He is a good weird fiction writer. That particular poem reminds me of Lovecraft's "The Silver Key".

[Anonymous No.18257149]

>frater anselm and picture book guy aren't the same person
A shocking development.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18257175]

>>18257149
From the two posts of his I seen, I think our manner of writing is pretty distinctly different.

>>18257126
Lovecraft’s entire dream cycle is in pastiche of Dunsany, but edgier. If you enjoy weird fiction you should try out some Clark Ashton smith sometime but he doesn’t have the innocence. Another author with pristine innocence is George MacDonald, who was a preacher and fantasy writer.

[Anonymous No.18257176]

>>18257149
Here's a list of my favorite fiction. I will read Blood Meridian and Winnie the Pooh next.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18257224]

>>18257176
You’ll love smith if you haven’t read him, think I’ll read the blind owl next.

[Anonymous No.18257243]

>>18257224
I've read Smith and like him a lot. I just haven't finished the Penguin collection, so I don't feel comfortable adding him. It would make me a poseur to add it without fully completing it. Also, I have reviews and analyses for most of the books there, so I will make a Goodread account in the future.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18257250]

>>18257243
Have you read any ETA Hoffman then? And have you read Goethe’s fairy tale, the green serpent and beautiful Lilly?

[Anonymous No.18258544]

>>18256421
my sister has those toys