Only one who is for heretical clues lost, suddenly counts of his investments for the truth of Jesus Christ the cost, and stops to repost and entangles even with fascist empire predicaments, and wonders, why he is suddenly caught up in a spiderweb of Escher Zauberspiegeln und never ending knight templars' mazes, and nobody anymore with his bloody satanistic shore amazes, as always everywhere even in the ether the same old golden cattle grazes and swine, who poison one's bishopry and have no regard for the truth in the wine and serve for lots of money and property donations only ever stale bread instead. Only Jesus Christ holds the truth and for that one has to listen in silence and not in some dodgy cabaret like a Pfingstox in black leather decadence in one own's smoke and mirror mission in pretended heretical pestilence glisten. The truth is simple and not subject to some second rate pimp-le peep show via spiritual warfare behind glass doors and on secret floors - what a sad way the Holy Rose's trust to betray and to go from one's own holy soul astray, and to have been the first to know the truth and to find it but to be the last to spread it, is short of going back into the clay, even if one warned the truth of the next hit. I simply say this: You better don't tell in court any of your bullshit, as real lives are here at stakes taken by ritual knives, and not some Holy Rose computer game that puts on the designer as the players only ever shame and blame also to their real life name, and will incurr punishment also in their live identity and in court very sad and tragic and not at all magic will be their fame and their highest career and secret society ladder's fall. And the beast is tame and does even return lately, if somewhat belated a summons call. Mother Sigrid Eliora