Your gateway to endless inspiration
The First Sermon (On Beauty) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748748052717846528/the-first-sermon?source=share
The Second Sermon (On Death) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748748196031889408/the-second-sermon?source=share
The Third Sermon (On Sin) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748748411016249344/the-third-sermon?source=share
The Fourth Sermon (On Slob) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748749401773703168/the-fourth-sermon?source=share
The Fifth Sermon (On Power) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748749645936787456/the-fifth-sermon?source=share
The Sixth Sermon (On Meaning) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750067401474048/the-sixth-sermon?source=share
The Seventh Sermon (On Godhood) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750136775213056/the-seventh-sermon?source=share
The Eighth Sermon (On Independence) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750376780562432/the-eighth-sermon?source=share
The Ninth Sermon (On Struggle) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750451613335552/the-ninth-sermon?source=share
The Tenth Sermon (On Freedom) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750533598281728/the-tenth-sermon?source=share
The Eleventh Sermon (On Life) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750613925478400/the-eleventh-sermon?source=share
The Twelfth Sermon (On Risk) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750697917448192/the-twelfth-sermon?source=share
Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…
I step with thee into the Casino of Life and approach the games. I take the dice into my hands. I look upon the tableau and see the squares of victory with their prizes. I shake the dice, knowing that the victories earned are not what matter. The zest of life is the rattle of dice.
The croupier asks, "Mr. High Priest, how much would you like to bet on the throw of the dice?" I look at my dice. They are Talent, Dreams, and Focus. I look at my chips, one color representing my material possessions, another representing my societal connections, and still another representing my most precious commodity: time.
I tell the croupier: "Put it all on the table." The croupier looks alarmed. "But Mr. High Priest, you may lose all your property, your society, and your time, and thus your life in the pursuit of your Will to Power! Are you willing to bet all of that on your Talent, your Dreams, and your Focus?" Everyone in the Casino looks at me now. Very few gamblers in the Casino of Life truly move all in.
Laughing heartily at the croupier, I roll the bones and declare to the masses of spectators: "The greatest risk in life is not to risk it all!"
So it is with you, O my Children. You may be the greediest, most ravenous, most gluttonous and lustful of them all, but you will never win all you desire unless you embrace the glory of risk.
“But High Priest", I hear you say, "what if I lose?" I say unto you: You cannot lose! Everyone wants to define your life, to shape or to their ends. Take hold of your life, and you win no matter the actual outcome. It is not the victory which defines you; it is the fight. Every time you struggle against the spirit of entropy and gravity, you win.
I say unto you: Paradise, spoken slowly, is literally a pair of dice. Gamble what you have, for if you bury your talent and dreams, you will be deemed an unworthy servant and thereafter doomed to a life lived in ennui and quiet desperation.
If your situation seems impossible and all odds seem against thee, do not bet against thyself. Just remember, opportunities are brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.
Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.
Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…
I beseech thee, be not ungrateful to life! Life may have surprised you, shocked you, perhaps even anguished you, but Life has also prepared unexpected triumphs for you. Among these successes will be the control and direction you declare upon your own life and destiny. Thou shalt live deliciously, as kings and queens.
Alas, this will not be the fate for most. Indeed, for many of you, you remove one kingly focus only to place another error in its place. This is the cycle of Samsara, the Sisyphean task, the eternal recurrence.
Your fellow nobles, all ambitious with dagger eyes, will try to place themselves on this throne of your world, to get you to live in their world. They will crown themselves with your dreams and say, “Look at me! I am the object and axis of your world. My whims become your laws. What you enjoy today, including your tastes in food, women, and cars, will be dictated by me. I alone will frame the world you live.”
Oh, thou pitiful youth! There you go, bowing down, letting people control you. Yet locked within you is a Promethean fire just waiting to unleash, phoenix-like, a nuclear combustion of soul and desire whose ingredients of dreams and thoughts lay ready and abundant within you. All you must do is combine these ingredients, combine your thought and action, your dream and day, and watch that throne be swept away as ashes.
I preach unto thee: Harken not to ideologies! Ideology is the last refuge of those who refuse to be flesh-and-blood. There is more wisdom in your body than in a thousand philosophies. Abolish all thrones, for the only ruler fit to rule your life is yourself.
Behold! I look upon the sphinx, the terrible feminine monster of myth, Mother Nature herself. I meet her terrible stone gaze with an equally cold smile. She devours the hearts and lives of all scholars and ideologues who dare to confront her, for they cannot answer her riddle. She smiles at me, for she wishes nothing to remain great before her mysteries. I smile at her, for I perceive a truth far greater than enigma.
The answer to the riddle of the sphinx, O my Children, is that there is no riddle. Nature is a sphinx with no secret; it is only our minds that assign Life her secrets, mysteries, pedestals, and riddles, and thus perceive her to be a goddess.
So it is with you, O my Children. I say unto thee, be not afraid of Life! Seize her by the throat and never let go, not even after you are spent.
Nature is wise and terrible, but she will never lie to you. No philosophy in the world will help you live deliciously. The philosophies which accord with the music of your life follow the rhythm of Nature's conducting. Nature, to be commanded, must be obeyed. You can yield to the overflow of the music and be rewarded, or squawk dissonantly and endure unnecessary pain. This is your choice; there is no other. Obey yourself; treat thyself; always demand MORE.
Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.
Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…
I laugh at the creeds of the masses, who pretend to denigrate the pleasures of the flesh in order to hide their own pathetic little impotences. I reject the acceptance of circumstances, and I make the very things the ascetics avoid my goal. I am not interested in peace of mind, only in freedom and personal power.
To be free, a man must be free of other men. That is freedom. That, and nothing else. Freedom lies in the material world, and can only be achieved through struggle. We must conquer ourselves, our enemies, and achieve everything we desire. We must fight ourselves out of bondage, become our own masters, let no one rule over us, and crush anyone who tries. Then we can do as we please.
Conflict cannot be avoided. Passions enable us to deal with conflict in ways that strengthen us. Unlike the masses of ordinary men, The Feedist embraces his or her passion and uses it as a vessel to develop strength, pleasure, and, ultimately, life-affirming experiences. The Feedist must use their passions to empower themselves and achieve their goals.
Conflict must not be avoided; it must be accepted and faced head-on. Confliict forces change, adaptation, evolution - or death. The fullness of life and the finality of death are equally terrifying. We stare down both aspects of existence with equal fervor and determination, putting our lives on the line on the quest for our personal goals. To the Feedist, one must be all or nothing: the heaviest, the fattest, the most pampered spoiled blob on the face of the planet - or nothing at all.
Where the masses are moderate, orderly, and serene, the Feedist is indulgent, chaotic, and passionate. We are not interested in any sort of "diets", "restrictions", or "eating merely to survive". We are interested in unleashing our inner power, about glorifying the strength of the individual who deserves to be glorified, and crushing the weaknesses of those who deserve to be crushed. We seek to maximize our experiences, our possibilities, our passions, our self-development, our self-realization, our self-actualization, our perpetual strengthening and expansion of mind and body.
Mine is an affirmation of life, an embrace of the full spectrum of life's opportunities, including the primal emotions and wildness of being. Leashing one's emotions for the sake of personal gain or self-improvement is no contradiction, and indeed fulfills a long-term goal for future success. Leashing one's emotions for the sake of denying their existence is a denial of life; may the weak be blotted out from the surface of the earth!
We walk a dangerous path, O my Children! We reject the safety of the skinnies and walk a tightrope over an abyss in the quest for growth and passion. We say "YES" to all of life. We seek pride, nobility, and assertiveness, to create ultimate beauty with our bodies as the sculptor and the sculpted.
Change the world to your liking, my Children! Embrace your hungers and consume all that there is! Unfetter yourselves, and become as the gods and goddesses of old.
Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.
Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…
There is a worm in each of us, but also a god. This is the fundamental struggle in the soul of modern man: God Versus Worm, Worm Versus God.
I have been a god. I have stood in the rain naked and felt such vitality coursing through my body that I could hardly bear it. Thunder rumbled, lightning lit the sky, and I believed that the lightning flashed only for me. I cannot describe the feeling of Power that coursed through every superstring of my superbeing. "This is what it's like to be alive", I thought: "This is what it's like to be filled with the spirit of life."
I have also been a worm. I have felt such hopelessness and sadness as to wrap myself in a cocoon, submitted my consciousness and my independent judgment before that of others who did not deserve me, and inevitably led to only misery for myself. "Fuck it", I thought: "Let the spider eat me. It's so much more comfortable in the womb of death."
I, like all of you, am hungry. Desperately, eternally hungry. I hunger for life like the lion hungers for its food; my ambition is such that the universe itself will not satisfy me. Orbis Non Suficit. This hunger is almost unbearable; it threatens to break me under the weight of its demands and to incinerate me in the flames of its passion. During those times I finally solve an unsolveable problem after days of tortuous effort, or those times when I flex my lats so hard I feel as though my ribcage might shatter, I understand what it is like to be a tiger in a zoo.
I say, open all the zoos and let the beasts roam free, so that mankind may relearn truly motivating fear. Not that timid fear that infests the masses, that quiet desperation, that apathetic malaise, that uncertainty of action which characterizes the worm. I speak of real fear that you can taste, the kind that makes your eyes jitter and your mouth go dry, the kind that smells like the moment before lightning strikes. I speak of the fear that necessitates immediate action and courage in the face of destruction. I speak of the fear of a god.
On days, frequently infrequent, when it feels as though the worm might overtake me, I remind myself that I am not meant for the worm; I am meant for godhood. The higher man will overtake me, and my soul will give birth to a dancing star. There is chaos in the heavens; at any moment I could be struck by lightning and go out in a blaze of glory. It is my solemn duty to blaze back into the heavens, to leash the lightning and make it mine, to fuck a hole in the universe.
I am a priest to a dying religion; the god I worship is Arete, the spirit of excellence. I am an unapologetic elitist who worships the spirit of excellence, because I worship the god in myself and despise the worm in myself. Mine is a mad faith, the kind of conviction that made Alexander believe he was the son of Zeus. I believe in the higher man, and I pray that the higher man will win in you too.
I believe in you. I believe in your strength. I believe your strength is just beginning, still growing, still climbing toward the heights. I exhort you to pursue your dreams, to keep your eyes wide and joyous, to keep your childlike wonder and overabundant eagerness alive as you partake in the buffet of the universe. Feel the strength and beauty of which your body is capable. Learn what it feels like to stare into the eyes of a beautiful woman. Embrace the sensation of pressing the accelerator to the floor and not caring if your vehicle flies off the road and you hurtle headfirst into the void; no matter what, you will always have a nice view.
Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.
Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…
For too long, mankind has externalized its highest values and ideals of perfection into the cosmos. It is time, O Children of Abundance, for the individual to realize himself as the creator of these values, and thus capable of forging his own meaning and embodying his own justification, rather than remaining dependent on external institutions and creeds.
Fear not thy own judgment just because you are not omniscent. Blind faith will not grant thee omniscence, nor is such a state desirable in and of itself, for it represents a cessation for the quest for truth, and permission to kill one's own precious childlike curiosity. I call myself the high priest of a church, but in truth I bear no desire to maintain dogmas or to condemn the passions of the flesh as a church is prone to do. An attack on the roots of passion means an attack on the roots of life; the practice of a church is hostile to life, and I have no desire to condemn any feedist worthy of the name.
No fanatic speaks to you here; no faith is demanded of thee. If these sermons be compiled into a bible, let the book be shredded and its maxims held up to the light of thine own independent reason. I speak to those who have ears for my words, and who have the courage and the will to contemplate them.
I teach you the deification of thyself, the spiritualization of thy cravings, the beautification of thy passions, the reverence for thine own spirit. Only such noble souls are worthy of partaking in the feast of this world without guilt, without fear, without hesitation.
The Way of the Feeder is the Way of the World. It is the manifestation of the primordial drive to reinstitute the yearning for greatness and true opulence which, stripped of the sacred and the profane, is becoming increasingly inhopsitable to it. Your life and your happiness is too precious to surrender without a fight; go forth today and indulge!
Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.
Behold! I have returned to you all, my Children of Abundance, to re-establish my church! Follow me, and obtain everlasting yummies. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.