To Father Pierre, Our Lady of Fatima Parish
Bless me Father, for I have warred with devils.
On the night of the Black Sabbath, under a blood moon, I carried out an act that to some may seem madโbut to me was obedience. Not to man, but to Nossa Senhora.
She sent me, I believe, as her unwilling knight. I asked her: Why me? Why send me alone into the ritual chambers of the enemy, veiled behind velvet masks, in a world of Eyes Wide Shutโwhere the devilโs harem feasts on the innocence of the lost?
That night, I burned tarot cards on the steps of your church. Not inside, but outsideโon the concrete. Far from relics, pews, or parishioners. I chose a place that would protect the sanctuary from the fire, and bring light to what was hidden in shadow.
The cards were cursed.
One card in particularโa Brotherhood of Death insigniaโwas the reason I risked all. It bore the mark of the society George W. Bush joined at age 12, around his Catholic confirmation age. But he did not confirm Christโhe confirmed Moloch.
And though I burned it, the CIAโhis watchersโerased the evidence. They scour my digital life like Pharisees picking over a field on the Sabbath.
But they missed something.
I left behind a gas can, on the roof above the church stepsโnot as an act of arson, but a signal to the fire department, whose presence I summoned. They would take pictures, as they always do. Maybe not all their phones got seized. I pray the Fire ChiefโGod bless himโhas kept the evidence hidden, safe from the black suits.
You must understand, Father: the gas can was symbolic. For what else does Bush do but “kick their ass and take their gas”? Iraq burned because of a lie. A false crusade. A mock savior in cowboy boots.
Just like Ozzy.
Ozzy Osbourne played messiah that nightโhis Black Sabbath concert syncing with the lunar eclipse. While fools chanted his name, I saw through the smoke and mirrors. He is not the Prince of Darkness. Just a court jester. But behind him stands the real beast, who whispers: Feed them lust, then rule them.
There was one more thing, Father.
The occult bookstore down the road shut down that very week. Word is, the CIA was involved. No arrests. No press. Just silence. Another ritual center snuffed out like a candleโno one the wiser.
I offer no excuse for my actions, only a plea:
Let the fire I lit not be seen as rebellion, but reformation. As Our Lady of Fatima weeps, I carry her sword in trembling hands. I do not ask for forgivenessโonly understanding.
In Christ, and under the mantle of Mary,
Joe
Servant of the Flame, Child of the Immaculate Heart
Statement of Joe, Defender of the Songbird
To Father Pierre โ Addendum to My Confession
Father,
Thereโs something else I must revealโsomething deeper than fire, deeper than flame.
When I infiltrated the Nelly Furtado Fans Forum, it was not for idolatry or vain obsession. It was a mission. A digital front in a spiritual war.
I entered under the name Luis Cypherโa mask, yes, but also a warning. A play on “Lucifer”, meant to draw out those who worship the false light. I knew it would attract attention. And it did.
The Illuminati Minors, Father.
Not the top dogs like Rothschild himself, but the performers, the pawnsโthe fallen princes of rock and pop:
Ozzy Osbourne, the false bat prophet
Gene Simmons, blood-spitting merchant of excess
Marilyn Manson, the pale clown-priest of chaos
Trent Reznor, who baptized youth in downward spirals
James Hetfield, who traded riffs for rituals
These menโthey had their orders.
To corrupt the youth.
To twist the beauty.
To snare Nelly, who, in her innocence and ancestral light, sang too purely, too freely.
I could not let them take her.
With the Luis Cypher avatar, I flipped their script. They thought I was one of themโuntil I wasn’t. I began to post scripture in code. To quote the Book of Revelation in cryptic hashtags. I invoked Fatima, Quran, Psalm, and Zohar in mashups they could not understandโbut the spirits did.
And then, something changed.
The Illuminati minors began obeying me. Not out of loyalty. Out of fear. Because they saw the writing on the wall. They saw that the beast they served had no plan for survival. That the avatar was not Lucifer, but his exposer. His undoing.
They bowed, not to me, but to the one who sent me. The Lady clothed in the sun, with the moon under her feet.
So no, FatherโI didnโt just troll a forum.
I guarded the gates of Zion.
I held the line for the songbird.
And though they laugh at her now, or tempt her with industry gifts, they know this:
If they touch her,
Luis Cypher returns.
But this time, with Michael the Archangel behind the screen.
Amen.
Joe
Knight of the Hidden Forum, Sword of Fatima
Tom Cruise (grinning intensely, eyes wide with excitement):
*”You wanna talk about a sword?
Okay, let me tell you about Joe Jukicโs swordโthe ultimate blade. Imagine Revelation 19:15, where the Word of God strikes like a sharp sword from the mouth of the King of Kings? Now shrink that down. Way down. Like, โteeny-tiny-cocktail-swordโ tiny. (Laughs) Thatโs rightโJoeโs packing a divine toothpick, a flaming skewer for olives and empires alike. One flick of this little guy, and BAMโyour martiniโs stirred, and the nations are judged. (Cue sprinting away for no reason.)”*