Malchut, The Book of Kingdoms

First Book of Malchut, The Book of Oane

[Text Pending]

Second Book of Malchut, The Book of Discoveries

[Text Pending]

[b]The Third Book of Malchut, The Chronicles of the Kings
The Breath of the Land

Life was great, the land was bountiful, and the royal family were content as were their people. The King during this time of prosperity was called Hevel, for they believed he was their god and had breathed life into their kingdom. He was a good and kind king and was well loved by his people. He ruled his kingdom with wisdom and a firm hand and his people were loyal supporters.

King Hevel had only one son, Kayin. In only one thing had the king failed, and that was his son. Kayin was spoiled and believed strongly that the pagan gods had blessed him with all he wished. He was always observing his father, watching how he acted with the citizens of the kingdom, and held him in disdain. He saw that his father was patient and talked to the villagers, while he spent his time laying about and ordering the servants around.

Among the children of the kingdom Kayin's closest friend was the son of the Captain of the Guard of the Kingdom, Joshua. Joshua spent all his time with Kayin, they walked in the village together, and they were as different from one another as day is to night. Joshua believed in the pagan gods, as did all people, and even though he believed Kayin was cruel at times, he believed he had the right of divinity and could do as he pleased.

Late in the spring of Kayin's 13th year of life, a strange illness struck the kingdom. Kayin's father forbade him play with the children of the kingdom. It was, however, too late, as he had already fallen ill. When the symptoms began showing his father sent for every healer and witch doctor among their people and from the surrounding villages. He bade the priests sacrifice the finest of every animal in their stock to the Gods of healing. Weeks went by and slowly the boy slipped from life until one sad day the bell tolled 13 times announcing the young prince's death.

His father was distraught and near to madness. The good king fasted, and sacrificed to the gods, yet nothing made the pain leave. One night a trusted servant of the king came to him and advised him to stop and rest his mind, to let his body and soul be calm. The wise king locked himself in his room, and searched his soul as the man had advised.

On the first night of meditation and isolation, King Hevel entered a strange vision. He was chained to the wall of a cave, and standing across from him were the statues of his gods. These gods seemed to stare at him in anger. All about him he could see the shapes of other humans chained to the wall. He could look directly at them, but could not distinguish them apart. On their faces were smiles, yet he could smell misery in the air. Try as he might, he could not break through the chains. Seeing no way to escape the vision, the king continued to meditate.

Upon the eighth day of being enslaved to his vision the good king had a realization. Staring at the idols, he saw that they were not angry, for they had no emotions. They were stone, and the divinity he saw within them was only granted to them by his own belief in them. Instantly, the idols began to crumble, and along with them his shackles were destroyed. He climbed out of his cave, into the sunlight and took a breath of fresh air, for the first time as a free man.



The Dynasty of Thought

With Kayin's death, the dynasty was ruined, but King Hevel saw a solution. Joshua's father was a distant cousin, and Hevel had made the decision to announce Joshua as his new heir. He trusted in the boy, as the people had already grown to love him. He also saw wisdom in the boy, and trusted that he could teach him what he had learned in his vision.

A few hours after Hevel left his meditation, he had Joshua called to the palace. When the boy arrived he bowed deeply, Your Holiness, how may I serve you?

Hevel bade the boy to sit, You shall begin by no longer calling me Your Holiness. For I have discovered that we are both equally holy in our natures.

After the death of my son, I learned through a vision that their is only one God, that has designed the whole of the world, including us. Our actions and positions are only results of this nature he gave to us all. Son, think of the world, and of the actions of the so-called gods. It can not be possible that these creatures exist, it is unnatural.

Joshua did as asked and the two began a long conversation. For several days the two would meditate together and discuss there findings. In Joshua, the king had found not only a new son, but a close friend.

Enjoying the companionship of another thinker, King Hevel and Joshua decided that they would teach more to join them. They began by teaching their families, friends and the servants of their household.

The Kingdom of Slaves

Years went on and the Kingdom continued to prosper. All had food to eat, and clothes to wear. Yet, the people were unhappy. The pagan temples had fallen into disrepair, and the rumors that the King had abandoned the old gods were proving true.

Every Saturday, the King would come out and speak to the people, about the kingdom and his new beliefs. He begged them to consider meditation, to think for themselves, but they would not. The pagan priests considered to push their values on the people, and to curse King Hevel for his new faith.

The pagans of the kingdom gathered together, and called upon the other pagan nations to strike down their heretical king. The leader of this army was none other than I'yov, Joshua's father. Joshua reported that the army was moving against King Hevel. The King gathered his followers into the palace and they began preparations for war, yet there were too few of them.

That night, I'yov led the army to gates of King Hevel's palace. Joshua led the few loyal troops in a battle against his father, but they were not enough. He retreated back into the palace, and the whole community left through a secret tunnel that led into the Judean desert.

The First Community

In the desert the few survivors grew and led a nomadic life. King Hevel led the nomads with Joshua alongside him. He took on the title of Admor, for he was their Lord and Teacher, and led the people in meditation, while Joshua watched over the well being of the community. Joshua sheltered the people, he never allowed one to starve, and he made sure that none would enslave another. The people saw that he was Just, and they named him Tzadik.

The small community faced many hardships, but they were happy with the wise leadership and their new faith. They traveled the desert, never stopping in one place for long, as the other nomads were pagan, and not fond of them. Often the pagan Bedouins would try to enslave them, both bodily and mind, yet the Tzadik Joshua was strong, and the teachings of Admor Hevel were wise and together they defended the community.

After several years in the desert, Admor Hevel had grown old and died. The community spent 2 days silently mourning him, and 2 days praising him. On the site of his burial, each person planted a hardy Spinoza flower, for it represented the hardships the community will be able to struggle through. Thus began the great of community of the Sages.

The Fourth Book of Malchut, The Kingdom of the East
[Re-write/Re-translation necessary]

A long time ago, a little Before the Charles Large one in the West, more goal in the East, Towards the north of Byzantium, a myriad of small coexisted kingdoms Which Were made ​​the war, Because the barbarians HAD Caused the disintegration of WIDER kingdoms ...

One of These kingdoms WAS spinozist.
It Was A Modest kingdom of size, purpose The Things Occurred There well, Mainly thanks to a very profitable gold mine the richness Which Brought To The Inhabitants!
Purpose Also the covetousness of the kingdoms close ...

Then a day , Which comes to WAS ARRIVED: a nearby kingdom, PRECISELY, Decided to invade the kingdom spinozist, to sixteen icts gold mine!
The battle WAS wild, and the spinozists Carried it. Lastly, There Were No spinozists only in the army, the sincere religion of the Inhabitants depended on 'em: it was the king Who set up a law HAD spinozist!
At the end of the battle, the Council of the Wise spinozists made ​​history hear opinions : The Whole population of the kingdom Which HAD WAS Them to Be Attacked by the last weapons, Which made ​​SEVERAL Thousands of Individuals nevertheless!
Because for the Wise Ones, It Was Necessary to send a strong signal to the Bordering Other fields, and to Prevent That Which HAD to invade Tried Them can not start again ...

Therefor, to Ensure the Future of Their Fellow-citizens, to kill the spinozists Were Their all Opponents: that calm Would The Other candidates with the invasion, According To Them ...

The King of the time accepted, it HAD made ​​sincere oath Protect Its People, and Gave the orders so That all the enemy villages are shaved, and the Inhabitants Killed.

Goal one of the captains too not very spinozists found in Conformity with What was good for HIM, that ' Did not go in the management of STIs religion, That One Could have Discussed Overcome with allies to make of 'em ...

It Went Malthus at the Same Time Against the opinion of sound temporal king, and Against the opinion of the council of wise, the more Religious Authority of Spinoza high ranking!
He Was Banished kingdom, and the villages nevertheless set fire to Were and Their Inhabitants Killed all: men, women and children ...


A Few Decades Later, the kingdom spinozist Fell All the Same Under the attacks from Another neighbor ...

The Fifth Book of Malchut, The Life of Daju

The Life of Daju

Epilogue

The odor of blood, a mix of moans and prayers, the hard earth beneath my body, which has been ravaged by age and illness, the rough taste of stagnant water, and the frightened faces of children…

I write these pages thanks to the kindness of an Imperial Aristotelian guard, who can do nothing more than watch the preparations for his own death in this Roman circus, on the orders of the emperor of a decadent regime.

What would his reaction be, if he knew who I was, or rather, what I had been? …
He must take me for one of his brothers, forced to go into hiding: he’s not completely wrong, anyway, since my creed is as persecuted as his!
What made me take the place of that child during the raid?
Why this desire to die in his place?
Suicide is the worst taboo of my religion, a total aberration before the Divine Truth…
Why? To pay for my errors? No, since I know today that nothing can be redeemed, even if I wanted to balance the scales.

Undoubtedly, the illness which gnaws at me encourages me to give it a chance to fully bloom, whereas my demise would only advance by a few months.
Undoubtedly, the fatigue of a life of traveling and searching makes me feel the illness more strongly now that my will is weakening before the degeneration of my flesh.
Undoubtedly, the humor of the situation will help me to make this decision!
To save an Aristotelian, forty years after having participated in the death of their visionary guide…

What would my jailed companions think if they knew that the one who they call Nicoleus was once, a very long time ago, a certain Daju? …
My story would certainly not interest them, but I hope that these pages will sooner or later reach Spinozists, who might be able to find therein something to sustain their reflections on Hashem, and on their own potency.

It was forty years ago, then, at the foot of Golgotha…

Chapter One – The Suicide

Christos had just given up the ghost, partly because of my denunciation… Horrified by my actions, stemming from both the desire to escape the influence of this outstanding being and also to show him the reality of life for those he tried to influence, I ran away from the city of Jerusalem, passing through those monumental gates in tears.

It is difficult for me to describe the mixed impression, however extreme, that I had of the one that the Aristotelians had decided to choose as their messiah. Christos was one with a magnificent will, with a love for others of unequaled purity for the time, and nevertheless he lived outside the protection of a community, far from their preoccupations: how often was I angry in the face of his ignorance, his contempt, for the consequences of what he taught his followers…

Never did he accept being under Roman rule, but neither did he foresee the difficulties that those who followed him would suffer! Love and Hate, Respect and Contempt: such were the contradictory feelings that Christos inspired in me. But at the moment of his death, I felt such a hollowness, such an absence, that only death seemed to me able to rectify the situation.

Taking the rope which served as my robe’s belt, I approached a tree, my sight blurred by tears and my spirit imprisoned by guilt. I was going to climb up to a branch high enough to put me at a sufficient distance from the ground, but than the sound of a whip hissed in my ears and my cheek was marked by a bloody trail.

“Well, young fool! What is this act of stupidity that you are getting ready to do?” A man with the strength of his age, with a proud demeanor and disdainful pout, stared at me with unlimited contempt. Too occupied with my own pain, I had not even noticed his approach.

“What do you want with me, old-timer?” I answered, with lassitude. “Why do you want to prevent me from ending my days?”

“I don’t want to prevent anything, silly boy! I just want you to give me that sack of money which looks to me to nicely full! If you kill yourself first, I won’t be able to steal it from you without feeling a little guilty, so I'm asking you to give it to me before you take your leap.”

The man had worn a lecherous smile, his eyes fixed on the thirty deniers I had earned for having denounced Christos…

“This silver is cursed! It comes from the death of a man…”

“Ah hahahahaha! I'm not picky about the money that feeds me, moron!”

“Quit insulting me, you old miser!” I replied to him angrily. He looked at me in astonishment.

“You prepare yourself to die, and you still show pride? Where’s the logic in that, crazy man?”

“I have the right to my pride, even if I won’t have it for long!"

“What rubbish, you mindless child! You are at the point of losing everything, of destroying everything that makes you who you are and no one else… Why would you want to save right now what you are going to give up in a few moments, imbecile?”

“Because it is my choice, my reason, my life!”

“Pfft… You are choosing not to choose anymore, therefore you are choosing not to exercise those rights which you are demanding right now. Don’t you realize that you can always decide to die tomorrow? Whereas, if you die, you will no longer be able to choose to live, you clown!”

“God will punish me for my actions! I shall redeem myself in Hell!”

“And if this God that you worship does not exist? If this God that you worship is not interested in you?”

“Oh, God will be interested in me, seeing that I took the life of the herald.”

“Unless your punishment is to see you suffer from your lack of sense… Young people are truly stupid these days: Do you sincerely think that this furious God is going to give you what you want?”

“… … …”

“Wouldn’t it be better for you to try and pay for your errors here, while you can, rather than running away and letting others decide in your place?”

“But it hurts so badly…”

“Of course it hurts, unthinking child! If freedom hurts, it does to tell you that you are alive. But doubtless losing this freedom isn’t important to a coward who runs away from his responsibilities. How can you redeem yourself if you lose what allows you to do so: your will, your choices, you living essence?”

The words of the elder pulled me out of the trance I had drowned in since the death of the Messiah: I had always been a proud being, even gregarious, and being treated as a coward by this elder had reawakened a rage which had spurred me on since my birth.

“Come on, give me your purse, dead man!”

“No! I will need it to live!”

“You’ll still need to know what this means, senseless young one…”

Intrigued by the words of the elder, who finally left, I followed him, deciding to make him pay for the insults he had thrown at me with perpetual mockery. I went, without knowing it, to find a reason to live…

Chapter Two – On Meditation

The man was silent, and spoke only to buy what he needed to live, even going to the point of ordering food which he made me pay for with those deniers of shame which I had not wanted to give him…

Always taken by the astuteness of the wanderer, as he liked to be called, and also, I must admit, rather in awe of his travels, I never refused to open my purse for our meals.

I insulted him with abandon, but his lack of reaction bored me little by little, while he never missed an opportunity to put me down as being lower than the earth: I tell myself today that I must have not had any pride at all, to have put up with this with such good humour. But this relationship was at that time the only one I had to cherish, and I could not put an end to it…

After two months of restless wandering in the vicinity of Palestine, the man decided that the place bored him, and announced to me that we would depart for the north, toward the ancient Persian Empire, Anatolie.

“We shall cross the desert, young survivor! It is often advantageous for cogitation, much more than charming Western shores… And you need to learn to think, silly young person!”

We left, therefore, for the inner lands, before veering off towards the north, towards the lands of the people who had once made first the Egyptians and then the Greeks tremble, before they succumbed to Alexander the Great.

The first days were a pleasure: big expanses of rocks and sand, the coolness as night approached, the burning naps during the day when we rested. It was a delight for a young man like me, who asked first of all for the loneliness of immensity.

But the repetition of the walk, the impression of no progress, the total absence of others, all began weighing on me as we began our second week. One morning, however, an impromptu meeting revealed to me what the wanderer had meant by “cogitation.”

We had been preparing to have something to eat, after a long night of walking, when we in the distance a caravan stopping, also preparing to eat.

“Come, let’s go see these traders: I think I recognise their colors!”

Although I was scared at the idea, I followed the man, always sure of him.

When we had barely arrived, I had to accept his good view, or his faultless intuition: the nomads received him with open arms and greeted me politely in passing. Soon, some water and fresh food were offered to us, which we accepted willingly: the dried meat and fish had seemed tasteless to us. I realised rather quickly that the campers and my … master?... had already known each other for quite some time, and seemed to share the same customs.

After the meal, in fact, the leader of the traders invited us in a group prayer, something which surprised me, because I had noted during our journey the lack of observance of my guide.

To my surprise, he accepted, and took a particular pose: sitting, legs crossed under him, with his hands palming his knees, he closed his eyes and was engrossed in his devotion. A bit lost, because no one seemed to want to begin the prayer, I inquired of him:

“Excuse me, but to Whom do we pray?” I asked him in a low voice.

“Nobody other than ourselves, troublesome young person!” he answered me, irritated.

“ – What?! You think that you are God?!”

“Of course, since God is in us! God is nothing else than that we see, imagine, feel: God is undoubtedly much more, but that much at the very least!”

“But… I… uhh..”

“Pfffft…” said the wanderer, turning towards me. “Is God all-powerful, unconscious child?”

“Yes, of course!!”

“In that case, can you say that God’s omnipotence is evident everywhere at the same time?”

“Obviously, yes!!”

“In that case, can you tell me what point there is in asking Him, since He is all-powerful and exerts His will in all His capacities?!”

“Uhh… um, well… To get His attention?...”

“Imbecile!” A whip cracked in the pre-dawn. “How can you expect Him to pay you more attention than He does already, since he is all powerful and exerts his will in all His capacities?!”

“ But for… uhh… I don’t know…”

“Forget the twaddle of your friend Christos, young novice!” spit the man. “God has nothing more to give us: He has already done the essential just by being, and by being in each of His forms, notably us, humans! We are thinking, we are a part of Him, and our only purpose is to comprehend Him, to understand what we are and in so doing become a part of what He is!

“We do not ask an outside power to listen to us: what an arrogance that is! But we travel in ourselves to understand ourselves better, and to better answer our needs, to those that we confront as other forms made by God!”

“"God has no needs: He is perfect!!” I stood up. “If we were God, as you say it, old-timer, we would be perfect too!”

“But we are only a part of God, young follower… Not God Himself… And in order to understand this concept of Nature, the concept of God, we must try to approach His perfection. Meditation serves us for this: we consider our actions, we consider our progress in our quest for divine Light.”

“Then what is the point of meditating together?”

“Because meditation is personal, but debates follow from it, the questions we have towards ourselves can then be discussed in groups, that we may get help from each other. To accept as possible, but not obligatory, the answers which they give us."

So I, too, sought the comfort of meditation that morning, and on every day which followed. Since then, I have never ceased in wondering about my acts, and seeking advice from my fellow man.

I was at that time convinced of this God immediately and without my own will, but debates which I had with the Spinozistes which I met later allowed me to stay on course in my quest for knowledge, and not to leave me in the mirages of human morality …

Spinozistes?
Yes, I have not explained to you yet where this word comes from, and what led me to give it to those I was soon to join, brothers of faith in Nature, and therefore Human.

Chapter Three - The Lesson in the Desert, or the Announcement of Freedom

We walked for days in the Eastern desert, after our meeting with the merchant caravan, preparing to join these people that were saying they would stand up to the all-powerful Rome: moving at night and during the cool morning across the expanses of sand, resting the rest of time, as the brutal sun burned our skin, even under our clothes. We advanced tirelessly. La monotony of the landscape however did not detract from the potency and beauty which emanated from this immensity: no one remains impassive when faced with the ocean of space which represents the desert.

I followed the grumpy oldster who had prevented the action I had been preparing to make when we met: my suicide, base and cowardly, while I had just attended the death of Christos...

My travelling companion heckled me. "Daju, look here!"

"Humph... Yeah," I answered, haggard, under the rays of the rising sun.

"Look at this marvel,” added the one who knew himself to be my mentor, without noticing my brazen lack of motivation.

I looked then towards the man’s feet, and saw a thing so incongruous, so strange in this place, that I could not prevent a stupid roar of laughter, which seemed to me however completely natural at the instant when it escaped from my throat. A flower.
A simple flower with four ruby petals.
Perched on a little rock.

"What does this mean, old man?" I asked, unable to tear my eyes from this incredible sight.

"It means the potency of life, young fool! Look at this battle for survival, but also beauty which results from it! A flower, lost in the desert, and finding its force only in a stone! Is not it marvellous?"

"I have never heard of such a miracle..."

"Ah no!! No miracle here!!" the elder answered, extremely incensed. "Leave such stupid things to your friend Christos!"

"He would have liked this flower just as much as you, oldster!!" I answered, raising my voice because Christos and his vision of the world stayed, between my fellow traveller and me, a continuous subject of dissension.

“Of course he would have liked it! I have never said that he was malicious or insensible! I shall go as far as to say that he was a man gifted with empathy, with love for others, and also with quite a lot of humour!” He smiled. "But he would have withdrawn the beauty from this plant by qualifying it,” the man went on, darkening. “He would have spoken about a God who would have allowed this miracle! As you said …”

“And how would that have withdrawn its beauty, tell me?... "

"Is this plant prettier than a rose, young silly thing?"

"Uh... No,” I had to resolve myself to answer, concentrating on those four little petals, alas of a distressful banality...

"Then, why do you feel attracted to it? Why do you think it is so nice?"

"Because... Because it has a huge talent to grow in this land! Because it is alive in a world of death! Because it scoffs at the powerful sun from the height of a few centimetres!"

"There it is!!" A glorious smile took shape on the face of my mentor. "It is beautiful because it succeeded in freeing itself from the chains of its environment!! It imposes on the sun! It is beautiful because it is free...because it acts in all its power, regardless the rules which would like to constrain it."

I did not know how to answer, especially since these words covered so well the feelings I had, but this power was expressed in the subtlety and grace of a simple plant...

"Would flowers be more free than us, poor mortals?"

"Poor mortals? ... Pffft... We are not poor, and we, thinking beings, are subject to principles that are unknown to plants and most other animals. But this capacity for comprehension will one day bring us farther than the most free of plants, Daju, be assured!"

"But how?! We have so much evil to free ourselves from, in order to live in perfect harmony with God!"

"What we learn by thought, by cogitation and instinct blended, our essence remembers will remember, Daju, young apprentice!
Death is only a stage, a transformation, but the essence which composes us, even reduced to knowledge without self-will, remains when we pass away..."

"But it changes nothing: if our essence becomes stone, or even gets lost in an attribute of God which we do not know, which we cannot perceive, this knowledge has no interest..."

"But the strength of the essence, which comes from God, is to be undying... And by dint of changes, by transitions from one mode to other modes, from one attribute towards other attributes, one day there will come to us a being with the ability of thinking new thoughts, and of explaining to us the sum of all the knowledge which it will have collected in the course of its transformations. And then this thinking being, this mode of God, will explain freedom to us, will bring us to God."

"How are you so sure, old man?"

"Because possibilities are infinite, just as God is! Because what can occur occurs, invariably, because God is all-powerful, and does everything that he can: and he can do everything, by his infinite potency...
There will come a day- tomorrow, a century from now, in several millenniums, when one will arrive among us who is gifted with reason, who will liberate us of morality and pretences, that will make us powerful without hindrance."

"How shall we recognise him, if what you say is true?"

"We shall not have to, young Daju: he will establish himself as an obviousness of clear-thinking, as light, as a divine revelation."

I stood there for a few moments contemplating these words, fervently looking at this flower, this symbol of freedom and potency, more than any being I had previously met, even Christos...

"What is this flower called, old man?"

"They call it spinoza," answered the sage.