What sayeth ancient Stigaie?
Merely reflection of the self; so reasonable.
Pär, the wounded child searching,
Man searching is child lost! Ayem, ayem, ohm!
What is sound but soul-reflection? Religion is music, religion is song, is freedom, is free!
Oh, thine Stigian bosom, so wide …
So bold …
Everything is Stigian, simple jazz of damned Dramencie. Damned!
Aye, Mykyle, were you truly lost? No sustenance but leafy greens, no hope but fields open, wide; oceans lurking, warm, true. This bridge bridges reason. This reason is a bridge. No bridge is reasonable.
He is whiter than any scholar! Too white! Only an egg. Only the kingdom, and the future of the Kingdom
All is not hoody.
All is not good. Good is not.
These dreamer, these pioneers. Oh, oh, ohm, Mykyle! Child, child! What was thine dream?
Factorization, or mere factorials? No, being, neither! Was naught!
In old Africii, Oh the tragedy! They are now less than a score, those who still talk the true Krimean letters; their tongue all but incomprehensible to foreign ears.
In old Africii, would you believe? A language without impurity, without those internal inconsistencies. Yet, now dying of old age or pure evil.
In old Africii, in hills of Lions and Men. An unjust murder takes place, the murder of knowledge, culture and fine art. Oh, those Krimean letters, who would destroy them, remove them from our world?
– Stanislav Peev
The Krim-language found in west-Africa (also called Low-Krimish or Krïmé Noir) is the very last remains of High-Krimish, a language used by wise men, scholars and heretics in vast areas of the huge landmass so aptly called Lumea Veche. It is said that the Krimish tongue is the last remains of the words of the Old Hindoo Gods, that speech of Viṣṇu Himself.
Kydje pentru aytona ceai sălbatice şi de dans plöppen
Varsta Ploppel é stenj o grădină!
Majahi Livare Ploppel!
Ploppel vechi austriac Kodna electronic simplu de.
Poem in West Neo-Krimish
In Rau Cartuar’s great work, Istoria Africii (1923, Ostuda Press), the migration of the Krim-letters are deeply discussed. He is especially focused on the use of Krimish in the culture of the Egyptian and the Moors. He argues that the Krim-spirit is the very foundation, the bedrock, of these great civilizations. The high culture then spreading to lowly lands of early Europa, making also these lands and cultures flourish.
Majahi, na Majahi! Majahi Ha-mare Livare Im Mu’n use; Livare kyrim Lynn-Majahi!
In modern times one must only pray for the last remains of the Krim language, for it is subject to hardship and violence. For many years it has dwindled and with it great cultures are shrinking away. The un-logic has infected its lands, murdering it slowly. Now only a few old men know the true Krim words, hidden in the mountains of lions, down there in old Africii. Celebrate the dead, but grieve for those who are unjustly murdered!
When in dream where none is real
When in dream, where in dream
Where in dream is found true truth
Where in dream, why in dream
Why in dream is glass transparent
Why in dream, how in dream
How in dream is dream unending
When in dream where none is real
So did one Tan Angerer speak. Noone heard, noone saw. Oh, oh, ayem, ohm! These were sayings of ancient belief, of kingdoms come, of kingdoms gone. Only loss is gain, only loss!
Krim, you of old! Shed light, shine bright. I am alone, sisterless, brotherless, without family, father to none, child of darkness. I pray, Krim, and you do not answer. I pray, Krim, I pray!
This is the ancient tale: One wandered in woods, without torch, without soul. One snapped branches, shed tears, all future broke before him. “Fuj, what thick woods are these!” All future, all past, all was in view of the wanderer, all was in mist.
I never saw him again. Not in dream, not under star nor sun. May darkness guide him, as only darkness can. Why in dream, Krim, why only in dream?
A shout: “Friedrich, cross not this threshold lightly!”
– Diary of René Hudderson, expedition member
From the fields of Romania fertile, through old Balticum, and in extremes to the distant northlands: Friedrich Georg Wilhelm von Struve set out to chart the earth.
His sextant, clock and compass were true, perhaps, but what of his soul, what of that internal navigator? Von Struve spent his autumn years in some southern sanitorium. Little is known of his demise. He spoke so rarely of those final days of the expedition. What did you do, von Struve, in those Dictum Borderlands?
A prayer for lost,
a hymn to the wanderer.
A song of encompassing
He who would leave
a virgin forest of faith
to seek forbidden knowledge
will surely find it.
Bless him still,
on true paths,
Who art thou, Johann? Without hesitation, you are in control of all life; all death. Even Angel Myklye!
Yoham and I, we danced with Death, oh! Oh! Death, what step, what groove, what hop of the Lindees! Are you of Mortales? Hop, hop! Yoham you Jew of infinity! Thine hair; silver! Shine!
Ohm, Yoham, you moon! Proud, proud moon! Of silver, of gold … you ghost! Leave us not …
Our body suffers, he sleeps, he is of strength diminish’d! Yoham … You, mine Lad, of orthodoxy not-too-strong, of freedoms and Judaism mystikal! Logik, Yoham? Art thou un-logikal? Like that! fair Moomin? Ayem ayem oh!
Excerpt from "TEILE & HERSCHE -
collected publications from the proceedings of the society for research in the field of literature on the Congo of the colonial era". Republished with permission.
Józef Teodor Konrad Korzeniowski (also known as Joseph Conrad) and Niels Frederique Manné are both writers of great merit, and both inevitably connected to the bloodshed of European-Imperialist colonisation, to the hypocrisy of man, and to the infinite darkness in all and every heart. Yet it was only Manné who may be said to truly have lived its horror.
In extant fragments of Manné’s diary, he paints a grim picture of the world that he visited. It was not so much The Congo itself that was dark, but it had a revealing effect on the intrinsic cruelty in all that walks the earth (“Congo is the light”, he writes, “that unveils the injustice of existence, that tears skin from the face of God.”).
Educated in the ecclesiastical studies, Manné was no stranger to the christian God, and held deep, personal beliefs. However, he rejected any claims of kindness and compassion in the Heavenly Ruler. Based on evidence from his experience, no other conclusion was available; he judged his God harshly (as God would, in time, judge Manné).
From where Korzeniowski found hope, Manné could find none. It was in this total despair, fleeing the ghosts of his past, that he formulated the Krimean-Hegelian Dialectic of God & Destruction. Curiously, he also referred to the doctrine as the “Mechanisms of God & God“, likely a reference to the metaphysical geist as both Supreme Deity and Supreme Nothing-To-Which-All-Passes (fulfilling thus, at the same time, the role both of God and of Destroyer).
For a long time, Manné’s work was not widely discussed in academic circles, but it has seen a resurgence of interest since the late 80’s. His legacy is bound to grow ever greater as scholars dive fully into his vast work and notes.
The most insightful of his writings are marked by the Curse of the Tsetse, and are at the same time fragmentary and deeply technical. Visions, truly, of some darker realm: Of the Congo, of the Heavens, or of Hell? Mannéan decipherment and exegesis is not an easy task, but the insight gained so far indicates great value (literary merit is widely accepted – only recently have the philosophical depths of his works been properly probed).
The lost brothers, Manné and Korzeniowski, struggled in darkness. Would you join them there, if only to share their insight, share in their doom?
The lore of Krim touches both fiction and reality. He confirms and contradicts himself. Is He of one? Is He of many?
How can our minds comprehend, that who must be, the most dangerous Idea of all?
Those that deny Him, may suffer tautologies so deceiving that their minds fall into that Hellish state, that very X-apocryphal logik. However, we cannot say that they are wrong to refuse Him, for a mind may be to small and narrow to master and perceive the Jacobian tales that moves beyond fiction.
He is of one, and He is of many! He is father of fantasy and reality. To Him they are one!
Those who believe in Him, deserve no suffering. But their mind will not fully understand his intentions, and doubt will certainly reach them as well. It was so for Johann, Rau, Ingo, Jurii and so many others. His strength and wisdom is so enormous that our feeble minds cannot fathom it.
For I have gazed upon Him, that ghost, that idea, that most powerful creature..
I even have a nephew named Jürgen Wolfshund. It just makes sense.
– Wolfshund the Elder
David Vogel had friends and enemies alike. Dearest to him was Atómový Hâd, the immigrant pervert. They enjoyed themselves greatly, always at the expense of others.
There is perhaps no need for this introductory information. To conclude: Vogel and his band were a merry crew, connected by common goals. So how did this dire wolf of the eastern provinces come to join them? And how could it end so badly? Yes, there is a Wolfshund in our midst.
“Let us drink and be merry”, sang Vogel and Wolfshund. Hâd was occupied with thoughts disturbed. Little did they know that they together sang the song to end the Earths. This is the fate of any crew, be they ever so joyful, who beckon greater spirits from their hiding, who tempt with jealous tongues…
A thousand years ago, before the word of Christ spread into the lands of Rus, older religions reigned.
In their wooden temples, the high priest performed the sacred ritual. Before Idols they would squat or stand, and animals were sacrificed. The blood that seeped to the floor brought greater harvests and glory in war.
The term “pagan” is appropriate, for they knew neither Yahweh nor Krim Jacob. But they did perhaps see some of the latter in their pantheistic, raw appreciation of nature. The possession of any and all substance by some greater purpose is exactly in accord with early Krimean thought. The One God of Pantheism, of vague Spiritualism: Krim.