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Why I Refuse To Misuse the Word Cult

There are linguistics experts who teach us that language evolves and changes over time. I cannot disagree with that.  Still, there are many instances that we must look at language in a deeper way. Linguists examine the structures of languages and the principles that underlie those structures. They study human speech as well as written documents.

Pictures and Hieroglyphics evolved to Mnemonics which evolved into regional languages. There are code languages like Cockney and Urban slang, used by oppressed groups as a way to communicate so their enemies cannot understand what they were discussing.  In essence, they use language as a form of self defense.

I have spent many years studying words that have been turned against humanity; words which, some, once held a deeper meaning. I’ve also explored the possible agendas.  I call these “change agendas“; when there is in intent to purposely, over time, change the meaning of a word in an attempt to trick and skew the mind.

Let’s start with the word “Illuminati“. In a conversation the other day, someone said to me “Well, I use it because that’s what everyone knows.”  I, on the other hand, refuse to use it as it has been termed, because I will not give over my own energy in the way it is being used.

What is the meaning of Illuminati?

il·lu·mi·na·ti
iˌlo͞oməˈnädē/Submit
noun
people claiming to possess special enlightenment or knowledge of something.
“some mysterious standard known only to the illuminati of the organization”
a sect of 16th-century Spanish heretics who claimed special religious enlightenment.
plural proper noun: Illuminati
a Bavarian secret society founded in 1776, organized like the Freemasons.
noun: Illuminati

What is the meaning of Cabal?

ca·bal
kəˈbäl,kəˈbal
noun
a secret political clique or faction.
“a cabal of dissidents”

Imagine the private elite meetings, where the Cabalists laugh about how the world calls them illuminated. If you are a believer that words hold power, think about where you are directing your energy, using a word which implies that individuals who enact immense harm on other humans are the love and the light of the world.

The Cabals of Earth are far from being “illuminated”. 

Let’s move on to the word whore. In my study of the sacred whores, I discovered “The Sacred Female” by Art Noble.   He has recently passed on, a sad loss of a kind acquaintance and an amazing researcher. There was a time BCE, when the Sacred Whores were revered, spiritual women, extremely particular with whom they coupled, usually Kings, Emperors; men of royalty.

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In Hammurabi’s Code of Laws, the rights and good name of female sacred sexual priestesses were protected. The same legislation that protected married women from slander applied to them and their children. They could inherit property from their fathers, collect income from land worked by their brothers, and dispose of property. These rights have been described as extraordinary, taking into account the role of women at the time.”

The Sacred Prostitute: Eternal Aspect of the Feminine By Nancy Qualls-Corbett

If the Jesus of the Bible was an enlightened man, it would be a fair deduction that he would have chosen to couple with a Sacred Whore such as Mary Magdalene. Yet, as the creators of religion were enacting the dis-empowerment of women, they gradually turned this word into a negative.

So if someone calls me a Whore, attempting to insult me, I smile and say “thank you“. It is a compliment, as I actually am highly spiritual and particular about with whom I share my body.

Cult is another word which appears to have a change agenda attached to it. Originally applied to Christianity by Christians, it is derived from Latin and means “to worship.”

Definition of cult
1
: formal religious veneration : worship
2
: a system of religious beliefs and ritual; also : its body of adherents the cult of Apollo
3
: a religion regarded as unorthodox or spurious (see spurious 2); also : its body of adherents
4
: a system for the cure of disease based on dogma set forth by its promulgator health cults
5
a : great devotion to a person, idea, object, movement, or work (such as a film or book) criticizing how the media promotes the cult of celebrity; especially : such devotion regarded as a literary or intellectual fad
b : the object of such devotion
c : a usually small group of people characterized by such devotion the singer’s cult of fans; The film has a cult following. (Merriam-Webster)

Enter the era of mind control, secret government operations like Jim Jones, the possible testing of mind control through religions, or government programs hidden inside of a cult, and the use of the word cult as it originated in reference to religion.  Suddenly religions did not like the word they had created being applied to them, because the world now thought of Jim Jones or Charles Manson.  Enter the change agenda.

Separating religion from the word cult, through experts, organizations, academic publications and media, even though the dictionary still clearly defines its origin to this day, has been a subtle and effective agenda.

Ever heard of The Mandela Affect? If you are told something enough, or if a group that you follow tells you something is truth, you will not hesitate to believe it, even if you have access to information that would tell you that truth is not correct.

One truth that cannot be changed is that, by definition, all religions are cults. If you worship, you are exuding cult behavior. One could ask, then, are all cults bad? I suppose that would be up to an adult to decide. However, I say that anything which teaches the human to work hard and achieve, just to give that “glory” credit to an invisible entity for which their is no proof, is a purposeful dis-empowerment and a subtle mind control trick that keeps human self-empowerment wavering.

Some cult experts seem to dislike it when I discuss the issue of the change agenda in regards to the word cult. I also find it quite odd that so many religious individuals have ingrained themselves into cult advocacy work and institutions. This means cultists are essentially “helping” cultists. See the problems here? Can the brainwashed truly help the brainwashed? One may say that if someone is still worshiping, then they are still under cult thinking, after all, it’s merely the definition of the word.

When words are improperly used, with an agenda to skew the mind, this is called neuro-linguistic programming. You have been programmed that a Cabal is bright and illuminated, therefore, you call it the Illuminati. You have been programmed to believe that a whore is a woman who sells her body to anyone or has sex with multiple men, therefore, you use the word whore as a derogatory term towards women you dislike. You have been programmed to believe that not all religions are cults.

You are being programmed through language. I highly recommend that you read Cathy O’Brien’s blog post on Neuro-Linguistic Programming. I recommend that you study neuro-linguistic programming and understand when it is used against you, it is a powerful and dangerous weapon. One thing I can guarantee, is that you will not look at language the same. If you are a mindful individual you may be more cautious with how you use words, and the energy with which you project them.

Enlightened Ones, We are the Illuminati. Take back your power by being extremely aware of your words and the intent with which you speak them.

Sacred Whores, continue revering your bodies, being spiritual and extremely particular about who you share your body with.

Religious humans, accept that you have, through indoctrination of worship, become a cultist.  Ask yourself why you can’t 100% believe in yourself. You came to this planet with the Knowing of your own DNA. Wipe out all programming and listen to your OWN body’s DNA cells. They are trying to talk to you, but you have been handed a band-aid cloaked in joy which has become a mesh that buries the sounds of your existence.  Learn to enjoy being silent long enough to hear your OWN voice.

Language is incredibly powerful and stays inside your psyche until you choose to correct it and/or reject it. Choose your words wisely. You are projecting energy every time you speak. Science has proven that your DNA can be re-programmed by words and frequencies. Don’t believe me? Give it a try yourself.

Vennie Kocsis is the author of CULT CHILD, an Amazon best-seller in cults and religion/2016. She is an advocate against child abuse and indoctrination. She is currently writing RISE OF SILA, the sequel to CULT CHILD. Her other publications and art can be explored at her Official Website

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50 Shades of Bible 

by Vennie Kocsis

Chapter One

The view from the second floor of the palace is clear, void of fog or dust. King David lounges on His fur covered, ornate chair, gazing through the stucco columns of His balcony. She is bathing again, the marble tub filled with milk. She is naked, voluptuous and unaware of the eyes that could be watching her. He will have her. After all, He IS the King. He has decided to wait no longer.

Many an evening He has spent observing her. One day there would be a word for this behavior. Stalker. Yet, it is a time of dust and candles, rulers, slaves, bathing beauties and Kings who do not accept no as an answer.

The King smiles to Himself. He has sent her husband, Uriah, one of His soldiers, off to war, with secret orders to His private lieutenant that Uriah must surely die in battle. Soon, word arrives that the deed is finished.

David sends for the milk bathed beauty. Up close she is more breathtaking than He has obsessed over from afar.

He has a room prepared especially for her. Roses line the bed, tucked into wooden vases, filling the room with a subtle, sweet scent. Soft fur blankets and pillows adorn the bed.

She pauses in the doorway, her head bent down in reverence as she curtsies slowly. He takes her in with his eyes, stirred by the simple, flowing gown covering her dark skin.

Come, dear one. Lift your head.” He directs her toward him.

Her dark hair is braided down her back; three plaits to signify her royal status. Gold bands wrap around the bottom of each braid. Her lips are full. Her face is bare and beautiful. She has an air of humble confidence as she glides towards Him, kneeling at His feet.

He lifts her chin.

Look to me. I must tell you something that will break your soft soul in half. Then I will heal you.”

Her eyes fill with tears. She knows what the King is about to tell her.

He is gone.” She whispers. “My love. My Uriah. The swords have taken him.”

Tears stream down her cheeks, and unexpectedly her chest explodes as she finds herself sobbing into the King’s lap.

There, now, My dear.” He soothes, gliding His fingers over her skin.

So soft.” He thinks. He is filled with the urge to bed her.

He will. After caring for her as she grieves the loss of her husband, grateful to the King for His loving care, He takes her into His arms. She complies, wishing simply to be held, to remember the touch of the one man she would truly ever love. Uriah.

The King smiles each time she sighs into His chest after their coupling. In times when one can command a murder to have the woman He wishes, it is good to be the King.

Chapter Two

When the Master first sees her, she is dancing beneath a tree. Enraptured, He holds His hand up, a signal for His twelve bodyguards to cease speaking or walking.

The group of men stand still as they watch Him. Their Master walks closer to the dancing woman.

She is a glowing movement of magical beauty. Her hair is flying in strands of long black curls. Occasionally she throws her head back, laughing and letting out the most beautiful warble, as if a bird is whistling music inside of her head.

She is free.” He thinks.

A crowd has gathered, watching her. They are yelling at her.

Whore!”

Slut!”

One man picks up a small stone, hurling it toward her, but he misses.

She continues dancing, completely oblivious of the swiftly turning crowd, which is forming a semi-circle around her.

She grabs the hem of her skirt, holding it up as her long legs brush the sand elegantly. The Master holds back an urge to laugh in delight. Her hips sway. She is bare stomached, with a soft cloth covering her breasts, her shoulders curved and flawless. Love shoots from His stomach like never before.

His attention turns to the crowd. He beckons His bodyguards to follow as they walk over. She has stopped dancing, now aware of her impending doom, fear settling into her deep, brown eyes. She huddles behind the tree.

The Master brushes His lips with His left fingers as He passes her.

Shhhh.” He orders, and their eyes lock for seconds, sealing a bond that will never be shattered.

The Master stands before the crowd, His teelve burly men flanking Him. The crowd falls silent.

You.” He points to the largest man with the heaviest rock, beckoning him to come forward. The man laughs, dropping his rock and walking over. He is confident that he will take this would be Commander down with one blow.

Why do you hate this woman?” The Master inquires, His voice welcoming and warm.

She is a harlot.” The man growls angrily. “Look at her. She shows her body. She dances alone. She has no respect for herself.”

I see.”

The Master contemplates for a moment, silently, as the man shifts uncomfortably in his dirty sandals.

May I wager a deal?” The Master asks. “If I prevail, you command the crowd to leave.”

Confident that he will win, the man heartily agrees.

The Master leans down and picks up a small piece of branch. He says nothing ad he writes in the sand.

You have been bedding your brother’s wife for many moon cycles now. If you do not leave this woman alone, my men and I will follow you into town and tell your whole family.”

As the Master gives the man time to read, He watches his face change to shock. How could this Master know such a thing?

Silence continues until the man looks up at the Master, who then uses his foot to wipe the words from the sand.

Without hesitation, the man orders the crowd to leave, leading them away from the woman who had been dancing beneath the tree.

She rushes toward the Master, falling to her knees, kissing His feet. She lifts her face, her eyes endless pools of tearful emotion as she whispers.

Thank you. Oh, thank you.”

The Master reaches down and takes her hand to help her stand. He pulls her close and whispers into her ear.

But will you serve Me?”

Her body falls slack against Him. He smells of desert dust and days of traveling with no baths. She will wash each inch of His skin tenderly, down to his calloused feet and gnarled toenails.

Yes.” She breathes. “I will serve you, my Lord.”

She will serve Him until His last days. He will reward her with camels and baby goats, fresh wheat and apricots. She will weep at His feet when His own people murder Him, hiding their children as not to have His heirs slaughtered as well.

Her name is Mary. She is a Sacred Whore. Her Master loves her, and even in His absence, her heart will belong to Him until her last breath.

For Those Who Aren’t Merry

I feel reclusive during the holiday season. I feel withdrawn, and my skin crawls from the frenzy of human energy scurrying to appease their loved ones in the name of what they believe to be truth; over charging credit cards; bleeding themselves dry to have the best; to look the best; to hope their friends will say theirs was the best…

Appearances
Appearances
Appearances

They call it the North Star, which actually shines over the North Pole and couldn’t have possibly been shining over an alleged son of a god.

I realize that most humans don’t really care about truth right now. They are too caught up in appearances, what others will think of them, over compensating their children and giving way to consumerism while other humans starve, struggle and weep with pain.

I don’t feel “joyful, joyful we adore thee” when I see Christmas lights. Instead I think, “what a waste of electricity that the tax payers have to absorb.”

I’m not bah hum bug. I’m a realist who doesn’t believe in the birth of a messiah. I’m a person who refuses to give way to the mind control and the over-rated mass carnage that is Black Friday.

Social networking disappears for me during these times. I man my personal pages but hide away from reading my personal feeds too much. It’s emotional triggering and draining to me to observe how superficial humans can be.

Change is once again upon me; there are unknowns swirling all around in my life, and celebrating falseness is not on the top of my priority list. Surviving is.  I see people suffering in the same places I see people fawning and showing off their greed. Will they ever stop, for just one moment, and look around to see the vast needs of the suffering?  Will they ever say, this year, we’re going to help others, because maybe, that’s what this is all truly about.

I see apathy disguised as giving. I see narcissism disguised as care and concern. I see the realism that lies deeply under the surface of plastic smiles and over drawn bank accounts.

and I hide away. I hide in my cave where I don’t have to see the sickness in humanity; the mental illness that can bury my soul with the heaviness of it all.