Kali's Origins: Part I

With regard to methodology in any kind of detailed historical study, we are accustomed to the notion of proceeding chronologically. There is nothing mysterious about this. The most comprehensive way of grasping the scope of any historical phenomenon is to understand its progression from origin to ending, including any ramifications extending beyond ending into the future. With this notion of methodology I am generally in agreement, but there are certain instances in which aspects of a subject are given greater clarity by isolating them from that chronological flow in order that they may be understood more clearly within that ‘before and after’ framework later on. The study of the incarnation of the God-Queen Kali presents us with such an instance. Because her power and presence are so richly compelling and her origins so complex, it has always seemed to me that anyone with a sincere interest in becoming familiar with her should benefit from an introduction to her person in this plane as a way of having something tangible to work with in the context of the larger study to be undertaken in retracing her pre-existent manifestation in higher-dimensional space-time. Simply put, let’s get to know the most extraordinary female presence in universe history a little better before we begin sifting through the complex data that comprises her incomprehensible totality.

Kali's history stretches much farther back than her incarnation in quadratic-dimensionality. In understanding her origins, we must know something of her pre-existence in the Satanic Eternity and this involves the acquisition of awareness and transcendental mystical skills that are beyond the scope of this article. Our intention is to leave her pre-history aside for the time being, and do some hard work in discovering her origins on this plane, in the 4-dimensional world. This begins with the investigation of writings and images of Kali as they have been created down through the ages. As we will see presently, it's not such an easy task. On the historical front there is far more in the way of contradiction and randomness than there is in coherent data upon which a unified picture of Kali's earthly manifestation can be erected.

The majority of extant imagery depicting Kali comes down to us through art and literature of Hindu culture. In studying this imagery, one is immediately struck by the fact that she is presented in a variety of colors. She is black in some renderings, brown in others, and even more or less white in more than a few. She is also depicted in blues, greens, lavenders, etc. The list goes on. This fact is usually attributed to artistic license, subjective interpretations dependent upon the painter's particular conception or intent. The artistic license theory always provides an easy way out of historical curiosities, and the presence of the Divine Kali is no exception. When no further physical facts can be discovered to explain variations in cultural discourse or archaeological inconsistencies, it is almost a matter or course that we find historians falling back, to some extent at any rate, on the artistic license theory. Painters forge their artistic visions for reasons largely unknown to future generations, and the motivations behind their efforts die with them. It's a logical, and more often than not, satisfying way of dropping the subject.

As it turns out, in the case of the Divine Kali, there is good reason for arrival at this historical dead-end. This is due to the fact that Kali's incarnation is not a strictly historical matter, in the traditional sense of the term. It is actually more of a metaphysical matter, a 'metaphysical history,' if I may be so bold. Now, it must be admitted that historians generally know precious little in the realms of philosophy and metaphysics, and the manifestation of Kali in our dimension happens to require extensive understanding in both of these disciplines if it is to be properly understood. The key here is the realization that Kali's incarnation is not a singular one. It is, in fact, plural! She is come in a multitude of forms and guises, and it is this transcendental fact that continues to confound traditional research. For those beings--whether they be human, extra-terrestrial, or ephemeral--that have ascended to Cosmic Consciousness and beyond, it is common knowledge that Kali is come in an infinity of incarnations and continues to do so until the time of the Great Transformation. We have been saying that our visual conceptions of Kali come predominantly from paintings and sculpture, and, keeping the foregoing in mind, we can now ask the artistic question again with an eye toward obtaining a meaningful answer. Paintings and sculpture are created by artists, and what do we know about artists? Artists, being typically more in tune with supra-mundane happenings than the common folk, have more of what we could call an ‘insider’s view’ into reality, and it is evident to anyone willing to compare the various images of Kali that have come down to us that the disparity in these works represents something far more significant than artistic license. It represents the multifarious states of the subject herself. The truth is that the (predominantly Hindu) artists of antiquity obsessed with rendering her were already aware of Kali’s endless variety of incarnations. They were witnesses to her reign of destruction and death in a multitude of guises, just as we are witnesses to the same phenomena today. Many indeed may have lost their lives in her wake upon completion of their artworks. Kali is eternal, the forms of her incarnation, infinite. But what of her original incarnation? How did her father, Satan, choose to initiate her presence in quadratic-dimensionality, on the world stage?

To discover the answer we must avail ourselves of the earliest pieces of documentation available, and more importantly, of archaeological evidence tracing the origins of humankind itself as far back in time as possible. This entails suspending the prevailing idea that Kali was a goddess 'out of India.' To begin with, the documentation out of India is sketchy as to Kali’s origins. It is remarkably detailed as to her functions and her basic mode of being, but when we try to gain a clear sense of who she is and where she came from we quickly become lost in a maze of different names, different sources, different motivations and, naturally, different colors to go along with all these different interpretations of her genesis. It is relatively easy to see the evidence for multiple incarnations in the confusion that emerges from these early documents, and yet it is something the philosophical community does not want to come to grips with. Of course, in their opinions, it’s all myth anyway, so why do they seem reluctant to admit of Kali’s manifestation in a multitude of forms? We’ll leave that curious fact for them to figure out. At any rate, what is clear is that Kali is depicted in numerous forms and by numerous names in the Hindu literature and scriptures that deal with her presence. This can only be an indication of confusion, of a lack of consensus as to her true origin. People of the time were witness to her rampant sexual violence and murderous deeds, but owing to the continual flux in manifestation, they were unable to grasp anything of her true underlying identity. We need to follow the trail farther back in time if we are to find any reference to her by those who actually were privy to Kali’s original manifestation and who would be in no doubt whatsoever as to the facts attending such a momentous and extraordinary event. The problem? These early humans hadn't gotten the hang of writing yet. Not in comprehensive fashion, at any rate. Documentation could very well appear only in cave paintings, for all we know. What is necessary, then, is the discovery of some evidence of her activities between the dawn of humanity and the period of the Hindu writers and artists. To discover the truth regarding this lengthy phase of her incarnations and appearances will give us a clearer understanding of her original deeds and objectives. And so we find that we must prepare for a journey much farther back in time than we might first have been wont to suppose.

The African Connection.
It is now widely accepted that the human race originated in Africa, almost certainly in Ethiopia. It is my belief that Kali was incarnated sometime later from those who became the eventual master race out of this powerful evolutionary movement. There is irrefutable evidence available as well to show that such a giant step in evolutionary development was in part a result of assistance by alien intelligence, from extra-dimensinal 'mid-wives,' as it were, that played a major role in the 'birthing' of a new species of homonid in whom simple consciousness expanded into self-consciousness, the hallmark of the human animal. This is completely in concert with what has been revealed to us directly through our own extra-dimensional enlightenment and myriad contact with the true Satanic messengers that serve as attendants to Kali, ministering to her mundane needs within and through her multitude of transcendental manifestations. These revelations also coincide with the most compelling descriptions of Kali that appear in the Hindu writings, that of the giant, fierce, unstoppable Black Man-Eater, bent on domination, destruction, and death. The following citations are of particular interest.

Kālī is the feminine of kāla "black, dark coloured" (per Panini 4.1.42). It appears as the name of a form of Durga in Mahabharata 4.195, and as the name of an evil female spirit in Harivamsa 11552.

Knowing then that her very name seems to indicate the possibility at least of her arrival on the Indian scene out of Africa, we are given incentive to take our investigation to a higher level in our efforts to reveal the true Kali in her extra-dimensional and extra-terrestrial origins. Her divine majesty, the God-Queen, perhaps incarnate on earth as far back as 75,000 years ago! If this is true, it would appear that the world must have already been in vital need of transformation at that time. Kali appears for no other reason. In the next post, we will look further into this provocative and fascinating theory.

The room, if that’s what it is, is darkened, shadowy, definitely an empty space. You are awakening as if from a dream, or better, you are awakening within a dream. There’s nothing here. A cube. Absolutely empty. No windows, no doors. A cell. The darkness is twilight darkness. You can see clearly, but there is no source from which any light whatsoever could emanate. Wherever you are, you’re afraid, and the natural inclination is to get the hell out of here. You begin feeling along the walls, spring a secret passage like in the movies. This is no movie. Checking the floor. Trap door! No. Just need to wake up, you reason. Slap yourself, pinch yourself, throw yourself into the walls.
-Wake up, goddamn you!
Now you’re screaming at yourself. And then, she is there. She laughs at you, feeding instantly upon the terror that grips you. She is huge. Perfect Kali-Incarnate. The most exquisite black flesh; soft, smooth, glistening in the faint light of this place. She wears the skimpiest of coverings, and towering high heels. You see your death already in those luscious, fat thighs; so powerful, so shapely, so impossibly compelling.
You instinctively drop to your knees before her in fear and reverence. Your worship of Kali already underway in only seconds. With one stunning glance.

Strange locale, no escape, emotions splintering into some unseen intricate web of dire conflict, face-to-face with your fondest dream turned hellish nightmare. Her smile is deadly, so beautiful, so intimidating, so fucking sexy. It speaks of your helplessness, and of her limitless power to destroy you. She turns now, this way and that, teasing you mercilessly with those exquisite legs and ass, each movement giving birth to seismic flesh-dances, her glorious, satin black substance coming alive, quivering deliciously in the service of overpowering torture as she beckons you to touch, only to refuse you at the last second. You burst into tears from the demolition of your being that is already being accomplished in such systematic fashion. This angers her, the last thing you need right now.
-Insolence! She cries.
She jerks you up from the floor by your hair and pulls you into a mind-fucking headlock. Her fat, powerful arms begin to crush your puny little skull. Such force as you have never imagined! And the indescribably mesmerizing scent of her body, the most delicious, feminine scent you have ever known. It hurts. It really hurts, and yet you have the dead certainty that she is only yet playing with you, that she could mash your head into powder if it suited her purpose to do so. Your body goes into shock from the pressure and pain. A series of full-blown seizures, electrifying you into full extension, limbs steely-stiff, reaching, grasping. Then, all goes limp. You slump against the side of her body, feeling her luxuriant leg-flesh pressing against you. Almost a real breath. Not quite. Another ripping paroxysm. You think you are screaming but it’s hard to tell in here. In the death-grip of her headlock, your face is buried beneath her breast. Breathing sketchy and the voltage about to separate flesh from bone. Then you drop again; pendulous, flaccid. This excruciating polarized attack goes on. It feels like Power Stations being emptied into your Being, then suddenly shut down. Your cock is a steel girder, spilling its reservoir freely. Vast trails of pre-cum in random patterns on the floor. Punishing you beyond dreamscapes with nothing but fat, succulent arms, and the strength of a mansion full of gods.

At some point, she’s had her amusement and lets you fall rag-doll to the floor. You twitch and flutter, carrying her divine scent within your brain, sensing the presence of other worlds. Suddenly nearby. Everything is
On off
On off
On off
On off….
You are in black
Then you come back
A little

Is she above you now? Standing over you?
A vast, mighty explosion rips through your ribcage.

Kinetic pressure that pops your eyes out of their sockets helps you to see it. She came down. A devastating Atomic Butt Drop, full weight, solar plexus. Senses race back into you momentarily and you see her there atop your puny body. Huge legs straddling either side of you and the most brackish, sinister laughter—Satan’s laughter—echoing through and around and inside/outside your skull. Then experience breaks into its component shards, and a geyser of vomit rockets from within your crumpled body, up the esophagus, tearing through the throat, and your mouth is a puke-derrick, spouting your internal oil festively into the high-up of this cage and all breath along-with. This plump, gorgeous black vision of the God-Queen Kali watches you, looking down at your wretched/retching face with fiendish delight until the fetid fountain draws down somewhat.



Moving as quickly as some psychic force, she spins around upon you and snatches your head between black giant thighs. Kali is god. She controls you. Miraculously, you can feel again. But feeling what? The press of thighs perfected by universal powers. Lush, huge, (your head is buried, your nose between the ass cheeks of god!) sateen, perfumed/bouquet as of the gardens of paradise, big/long/shapely/thick/soft/hard/sensual/powerful/ Incomprehensibly beautiful legs. Kali the God-Queen laughs again through this divine incarnation…and begins to squeeze!

Flailing.
Wailing.
Flipping.
Flopping.
Writhing.
Convulsing.
Paro Paro
Paro Paro
Paroxysm.
Death on a stick.
The python grip of monstrous legs signals the finish.
Quick & Clean
Your hands push hard against Himalayan thighs, desperately clutching. You can no longer hear it, but you feel her laughter mocking you in your utter ineptitude. Those legs totally immovable. Too strong. Too powerful. Too gorgeous. She increases the pressure. Your skull cracking. You can hear it! No escape, so you try to revel in what will be your death. You give yourself over to the feel, the smell, the majesty of those big legs and the sensual crush of their omnipotence. The demolition of your body breeds lightning in your soul and your excitation rises to peak. She squeezes harder! You are at the beginning of a journey. You feel it. Concussion. Skull cracking deeper. Brain under duress. Cock pounding double time to your furious heartbeat. She cranks it up some more, and in so doing, looks back proudly to admire her handiwork; a skyscraper shaped like a penis. Laughs again. Satan inside. Reaches back to play with it. Legs tighten. You throw up blood this time, mixed with bile and brown-greens. Throw up violently, rifling it out onto the floor. She takes one pull on your desperate cock and you explode all over the tiny room. Gushing in wicked spurts, engendered by Evil itself.

The divine Kali-Incarnate. Perfect destruction. Perfect execution of the divine will. She rides the laughter-energy now. She tightens her grip. Considerably. Your skull gives way, collapses, and your bladder and bowels are released. You are left there, god-knows-where, in puddles of your own body fluids and excrement. Over as quickly as it began. Kali-Incarnate. God-Queen of Death and Ultimate Transcendence. You are released from Samsara onto the plane of Absolute Being.

Kali be praised!