Man and His Bodies

                        T h e    R e v i e w s

Annie, can you hear me? Have you been duped by a smooth criminal? Taken to the cleaners? Lost in space? Did you bite the wrong line?


Annie Besant knows now that there is a God and she ain’t Him. In this Theosophical Manual (Volume 7) she states that she is not infallible, then proceeds to lecture the seven ghostly bodies of man with technical precision.


If indeed this was written by a woman, then she writes like a man. A well-educated one. Whose writing is as tidy as this handsome, hard-cover book. Published in 1905 by the London Theosophical Society. The original third edition by this well-heeled bunch whose wispy tentacles reached into all the civilised world — even then. The binding, paper and print are the finest money could buy. These pages are pleasantly yellow and have that exciting musty smell. Must have come from some rich old coot’s library. A flaming commie one who is now dead and whose progeny is not into reading. Just hand over the money, pops.


In these 114 pages a reader will find much science. Besant (or whoever this writer was) knew his anatomy. I was amazed at how much human anatomy was on the books back then.


But knowing the devil like I do, his apples always come well mixed. He baits his hooks with truth or else who would bite his line?   Then he reels them in and starts feeding them lies. And more lies. For you see, he is the father of lies.


One is duly impressed with this writer’s knowledge of the sciences. They serve a good launching pad for discussing man’s ghost. The one that appears to others while he is yet alive and gets called a doppelgänger. The one that slips out of our physical bodies nightly and experiences dreams. The one that departs when we die and does not apparently return. Besant has an explanation for all that.


Another of the author’s kind will discern what of her writing is true. Experience is a shrewd teacher.


Never once does Besant give glory to the Master Engineer for His goodly works. She does not dare describe what she sees on the lower astral planes. She rather mitigates the scene. Downplays the demons. She calls them elementals and thought forms. A woman in her shoes would rightly have to be a demonologist or else a witch.


Witches exploit their knowledge of the spiritual places for selfish ends. Otherwise, such knowledge would bring them closer to God. Conversely, they rather draw near to Lucifer. They are his wenches.


Besant footnotes their Victorian journal * Lucifer * on page 30. This monthly magazine was published by their theosophical society full of their occult drivel. Morning star or light-bearer, yes yes. But there is a famous fallen angel in God’s Word by that name. He came first. Not the magazine. So Helena picked a tricky name for that one. I know how the devil’s people love to brag about who they are. So spare me the Greek, bitches.


Ed and Lorraine Warren, Gabriele Amorth, King James? Demonologists. King James pist off all the right people. A sure sign of his caliber. Who your enemies are defines you. The soul knows no grey zone. One cannot serve two masters.


On page 62 Besant calls our world a globe. That alone proves that this writer was not spiritually enlightened.


Throughout the text there is a profession of knowledge that reads more like a gathering from centuries of grimoires. Things too abstruse and convoluted for one stray mother to know.


Besant, according to my studies, abandoned her Christian husband and children for a life in India. She is touted a feminist, occultist, fan of the baphomet-worshipping sect, and socialist (soft word for communist).   The pinko propaganda about her is widespread. Check the web or college libraries and see what I mean. I could find nothing about where she gleaned her “good education.” Usually educated folks have an alma mater. Ah therein lies the rub.   Buzzer goes off. Do you smella rat yet?


I find Annie Besant little more than a poster girl for marxism and mason’s lodges. The subverters of our Christian west often use photographs and names of dead people as attributions for their commie hogwash. That way you can’t quiz the authors. Annie Besant fits the bill. I can find no substantial biography on the woman. Just Victorian portraits of one who was not feminist enough to loose a whalebone corset.


The agenda of this book is to subvert Christendom and Islam. Whoever wrote it then gallops into the praises of Master Morya and the great white brotherhood. And how we shall all reincarnate over and over until we learn the masters and the path that will lead us to our state of perfection: a nebula of “one’ness”.   What a crock of commie baloney.


Likely the whole “mystical” organisation is just a well-funded organ of propaganda. The agenda of course being to subvert the fear of God. Theosophy is a convoluted load of mumbo jumbo. The work of ghost-writers who hide behind dead people’s names. They push their nonsense hard. All you have to do to experience their claptrap is google “theosophy.” Up will come an ocean of exasperating gibberish. Verbose, tangled junk-rubbish — waiting for you to read it.


It will not take you far. If you get through their voluminous gobbledygook, you will find yourself standing at the terminus of a dead-end road, staring into the black abyss. They never put too fine a point on anything. Always loose ends flapping in the breeze for you to puzzle over. Remember, the truth takes few words. That is why the entire Holy Bible only has 1,244 pages. How many do you think theosophy might have? I dare you to find out.


It is sad how many people will believe this lie because they are spiritually rudderless. The reason for this is because over the years fewer and fewer of them were raised in Godly homes by married parents. Since the marxists began dismantling our churches, marriages, governments and culture, they have insidiously supplanted them with new age spiritualism like theosophy.