Profile of the Aspirant of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe

This chapter outlines the psychological, esoteric, and character profile of the ideal aspirant within the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe—a solitary, highly disciplined, and unhuman individual predestined for antinomian action. Operating through absolute individualism, mimicry, and total independence from organized structures, the aspirant is called to transcend collective morality, embrace his own sovereign truth, and align his consciousness with the ultimate force governing life and death.

In this section, we will discuss several traits that, in my view, ought to characterize the aspirant of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe. These traits outline the character structure of a revolutionary who is also open to distinct marks of individuality. Joining the revolutionary core is not a matter of desire, conviction, or enthusiasm, but of predestination. One is predestined for it, or one is not—fatedly, genetically, or however one might frame it. Most are not.

Yet, that is not all. Even among those predestined for revolutionary action, among the majority of the predestined, the revolutionary mentality, lifestyle, way of thinking, and mode of operation remain unacceptable because, above all, it requires a renunciation of humanity. It is indeed a demanding requirement: to be unhuman. We see that, at least theoretically, the number of potential revolutionaries is extremely small, which suggests that the movement of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe is grounded in elitism and individualism. This movement is characterized by the absence of any organization, collectivity, or alignment on a visible level. A passion for subversion and conspiracy forms the foundation of revolutionary orientation and action. Nevertheless, this does not mean there is no place in the projection of the revolution for sympathizers, as well as for those who wish to derive some benefit from it. In certain aspects of revolutionary action, their involvement is possible, desirable, and sometimes even necessary.

Here I will elaborate on the profile of a lower aspirant of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe—that is, one who seeks entry into that part of its magical chain which I have designated as Ruach. I emphasize that these are by no means rigid rules, but rather my vision of an ideal candidate. Naturally, all manner of deviations are possible.

First, the revolutionary is a man—not in the sense of a macho type, but of the male sex, or more precisely, of unquestionable masculinity, possessing prevailing masculine traits in both character and anatomy: he is not effeminate in speech, gestures, or way of thinking, nor does he carry feminine traits in his physical build. Equally important, he is very young—perhaps an older teenager or a young adult. Sexual orientation is irrelevant, as the revolutionary may completely alter his sexual constitution at a later stage. What matters is that the aspirant has no doubts regarding his masculinity.

Second, our aspirant feels that he is somehow special, set apart, different, and even superior to other people in his environment; he feels that his true nature is constrained, prevented for some reason from expressing itself. He is aware of the symptoms of his giftedness and exceptionality, which manifest primarily in the breadth and depth of his interests and abilities. Constantly preoccupied with himself and his pursuits (centered upon himself, self-analysis, and the examination of his subjects of interest), he is also pervaded by a sense of being predestined, called, or ideal for some great human, cosmic, historical, divine, or demonic life mission to which he would devote himself entirely—yet he lacks a clear vision of what that mission actually is and what he specifically ought to do. In other words, he ought to suffer from an incubational messianic frustration, if I may put it that way. He knows he should dedicate his entire being to something, but he does not know precisely what that is.

Third, our aspirant finds himself in a perpetual crisis of identity. He possesses no reference point in his social environment with which he can fully identify. He feels no essential belonging to any social group, ideological identity, or political designation. Nor does he find himself within general developmental, esoteric, or occult categories. In everything, he might find something he could agree with, but an aversion to such classifications predominantly prevails within him. Hence, he feels he belongs nowhere. He feels no particular closeness even to the designation "human," considering the frustrating inadequacies of that form. Even his own name sometimes strikes him as laughable, grotesque, imposed, or ill-fitting (especially when spoken by others). He would prefer to be called something else, in harmony with what he deeply senses as his true nature, which fails to surface due to his fundamental lack of self-knowledge.

It follows from the preceding points that he is prone to convertism. Very early on, he began searching, wandering, and asking fateful and essential questions to which he received unsatisfactory answers, or no answers at all. He frequently changed his ideological, religious, and political convictions, growing passionately involved in and then disillusioned with various political, ideological, philosophical, cultural, religious, magical, or mystical movements, schools, and systems. All of them appeared approximately equally attractive, yet equally repulsive in their limitations. It seems to him that none of them are complete. Thus, over time, he acquired a certain indifference toward the seductiveness of human assertions, toward every school of thought or spirituality. None of those schools helped him achieve closure or completion in his aspirations and actions. Each offered a little, yet what they offered—given their mutual contradictions or incompatibility—caused more harm than good. Based on this, he was unable to finally define, reorganize, comprehend, and direct himself toward a path he could feel with his whole being to be correct. More precisely, none of those schools granted him that vital privilege of peacefully following his own "path of the heart" within a clear framework. For that path, he sincerely longs. In the meantime, he believes in nothing.

Having found himself nowhere—that is, as none of the possible teachings, ideologies, or worldviews reaching him corresponded to what he felt as his true path—he could not accept any specific ethical or moral system conveyed by those worldviews. Consequently, he longs to embrace an ethical code that aligns with what he deeply, albeit vaguely, senses. Lacking an identificatory reference point, it is natural that he possesses no morality, even though he genuinely feels its absence. He would prefer to construct his own moral code, as his moral void weighs heavily on him, but he lacks a guiding vision—though he certainly possesses the strength. He has no clear role model from which to derive a distinct and original morality. Others' morality appears shallow, primitive, or unattainable to him, while he lacks his own, despite striving to possess it.

Sixth, he possesses an enviable level of education. Regarding everything he has touched or learned—whether through literature, relationships with others, or by other means—he has contemplated deeply and drawn definitive conclusions. His broad education (largely self-taught) is the fruit of his interests and the effort invested in researching and mastering specific fields. He is passionately interested in history, religion, art, the works of prominent and alternative thinkers, philosophers, mystics, poets, mythology, occultism, politics, psychology, and the natural sciences. He searches for answers to fundamental questions. He engages, or attempts to engage, in some form of art—writing, painting, and the like—feeling a powerful creative urge.

Seventh, we may also describe him to a certain degree as a misanthrope. He generally fails to find people who match his interests, with whom he could share thoughts, experiences, or undertake joint actions. Typically, their scope of interest, thought, and action is significantly narrower or more focused than his own, which frustrates and inhibits him from opening up to them or being candid, as he sooner or later encounters a wall of incomprehension. Often, people cannot keep pace with him, let alone lead in that game, leading him to withdraw despite being essentially communicative, eloquent, and frequently charismatic. For these reasons, he harbors a slight contempt for people and a disgust for human limitations. Phrases like "killing time" or "boredom" evoke extreme revulsion in him, and people who are perpetually bored without company or who aimlessly waste time are, to him, inferior. Unlike them, he is always active. He feels the passage of time deeply and regrets the brevity of the day. Furthermore, his desire for company does not stem from boredom, but from a wish to share his intellectual or other achievements with others. He desires to teach, but also longs to be taught.

Through his self-directed education, he has acquired great discipline, recognizing the full importance of self-control and building an enviable level of work ethic. He knows how to establish priorities. He is dedicated to his intentions, research, and learning. He is conscious of and accepts full responsibility for his actions. He absolutely rejects any interference in his life, which he considers exclusively under his own authority and responsibility, and is prepared to bear the consequences. On top of this, he is endowed with "nerves of steel," immense patience, ambition, and the ability to pursue abstract goals. Whatever he engages in, he pours his whole self into. If he finds himself within the ideas of the Revolution, he will undoubtedly prove to be a fine soldier, if not a commander.

The advantage of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe over other conspiratorial, rebellious, or revolutionary endeavors lies primarily in its radically individual mode of action. Its routes are mapped by each individual revolutionary in accordance with his own will. The defining feature of the "inner revolutionary core" is the absence of any form of organized structure. Revolutionaries are scattered like stars. They do not even know one another, and if they do, they do not acknowledge each other—not because they are incapable of recognizing fellow members of the same mission, but because they choose not to. Each strives to direct revolutionary currents in his own manner; to that end, he may at some point initiate a future aspirant whom he will instruct, though this does not mean the junior will not one day cast aside his master's teaching if he deems it necessary. On the other hand, he will not seek out his revolutionary comrades, for they play different roles. He might chance upon them, but they will be divided by insurmountable barriers and differences.

For the aspirant of the Revolution, "spiritual solitude is a heavenly gift." This means he operates exclusively alone, dedicatedly, patiently, and with utmost discretion, even if he happens to be a public figure. As a personality, he holds no importance; anonymity applies specifically to his revolutionary commitment and action. A revolutionary is like a spy or an underground operative leading a double life. He must be prepared to make and honor his own decisions, for those decisions serve as the directives of revolutionary action. Once he commits to the Revolution as an all-encompassing path, he will no longer be able to live otherwise than in alignment with his choices. This means that the revolutionary initiate is given a free hand to direct the Revolution as he sees fit, for whatever he does will not be in essential conflict with the actions of another revolutionary. A free hand is the expression of his sovereignty, individuality, and selfhood.

A revolutionary operates based on his personal code, which is established as soon as he is recognized and accepted by the inner circle. He feels revulsion toward organized and group actions performed in the name of an ideal or deity—though for the sake of mimicry, he may join them, or even become their leader or founder, if he considers it necessary. Eventually, he will inevitably feel the unbearable weight of loneliness, and that is the pivotal moment: out of that solitude arises a need that can be interpreted only as the necessity for an Order to exist. A revolutionary Order whose continuity flows on a one-on-one basis. In this sense, the revolutionary becomes a frater superior to the revolutionary neophyte—he becomes his teacher, and the neophyte his student. There is only one teacher and only one student. There is no lateral branching, nor higher structures or hierarchies. Should that occur, the Revolution comes to nothing. Tradition proceeds on a one-on-one basis, or exceptionally, one-on-two.

Tenth, we emphasize his inclination toward mimicry, in the sense of feigning and acting to fulfill his intentions. He can act contrary to his convictions, passionately arguing a standpoint that conflicts with his own. He is even capable, if he deems it necessary, of acting against his own feelings. In his behavioral patterns and speech, he is infinitely inventive.

In line with the above, the initiate of the revolution is also emotionally "untouchable." This does not mean he is devoid of emotion. He feels empathy, knows how to love, to be devoted, to feel disgust, sadness, rage, or longing—but he does not surrender to these feelings. He does not succumb to them. He is capable of channeling them in a functional manner. Because of this, he cannot be fundamentally hurt, offended, or shaken by events around him—which does not imply he is fearless or a coward. Nevertheless, he can be a sincere friend, a loyal enemy, a faithful husband, or a good father; yet without blinking, he can abandon everything—including the Revolution and ultimately himself—if he so decides.

In a sense, he is a fatalist. He is conscious of the constant and immediate proximity of infinity, fate, and death. He senses that his soul is very old, making him fundamentally indifferent to his own fate and to the fate of all those he knows, is close to, or stands in hostile or neutral relation to. Hence, he remains indifferent to concepts such as success, failure, and the like.

Much more could be added to the profile of a hypothetical revolutionary. What I consider essential at this time is that this doctrinal theory be neither dismissed nor fully embraced by the reader. The important thing is that someone, somewhere, at some point, adopts the mode of thought presented in this book—not my premises, derivations, conclusions, interpretations, or goals, but merely the mode of thought itself. That step alone is a revolutionary act. It will inevitably give birth to new doctrines, both theoretical and practical, forged by others. Yet it is not the doctrines that matter, nor the actions undertaken or refrained from by their creators and followers; what matters is spreading the mode of thought.

If you must die, do so with your own truth in your heart and mind, not with the truths of others. Whether that was a wise choice or a fruitful endeavor will reveal itself to you alone. In the light of others' truths, nothing will be revealed to you. Think, even if it be in vain. Your truth—and yours alone—is the only wealth you can truly possess, the only thing that is genuinely yours, which no one can take from you. Everything else is irrelevant. At the moment of your death, your truth has two choices: either to die with you, or to continue its life. That depends entirely on you.

As individuals, we are unique and unrepeatable. Our life is unique and unrepeatable. The purpose of human life is to feed, with oneself and the content of one's consciousness, the force that stands behind life and death. Our goal as revolutionaries is to identify with that force. That force is both personal and impersonal, individual and collective, fathomable and unfathomable, existing and non-existing. With its aid, we can fulfill our mission; we can die in the body while remaining seemingly alive. And when we physically pass away, we can persist un-dead, because as such we became during life.