“The night is far gone; the day is at hand. So then let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.”
I’d called my last article Sonnenuntergang, the German word for “sunset,” after the original title of a well-known book called The Decline of the West (Der Untergang des Abendlandes), published in 1918 by Oswald Spengler. In it, the author details his theory of the rise and fall of great cultural epochs in history—the Babylonian period, the flourishing of the Orient, the Apollonian (Greco-Roman) periods and so on—as living and evolving organisms, whose final decline comes when said culture has at last reached what he considers to be a “civilization.”
Needless to say, it is obvious why such a title would resonate with me.
Though the myriad tenets and philosophies of Vampyre culture have existed throughout various cultures for centuries, it only coalesced into its current recognizable form between the turn of the millennium and the mid-2000s.
Like any nation with a homogeneous culture, there is always a small minority too backwards and stupid to grasp or understand the majority culture, and we have seen that sometimes an uncultured and barbaric minority can wind up overtaking the elite majority—just look at Constantinople, Rome, Babylon, Egypt, and the Americas both during the colonial period and the current era of modern politics, for a few examples.
This certain unnameable fellow with the cowboy hat bore an idea that changed the face of modern underground subcultures for generations to come, as well as also irrevocably linking the Vampyre and Sanguinarium movements with the broader occult and magickal subculture. Unfortunately, he picked the greatest worst city in the world to do it in and had alongside him some of the least credible candidates to help him achieve his dream—and for that statement, I am expecting a half-dozen very loud and angry phone calls from a handful of individuals and perhaps the man himself. But history is history, and facts are facts, and the fact of the matter is that you cannot bring a high and civilized culture to a cesspool of barbaric and ignorant role-players and S&M fetishists and expect them to comprehend it. It is, as the saying goes, casting pearls before swine.
If we take a closer look at how the Vampyre movement fell so far from grace, we might be able to understand what sets the Strigoi Vii apart from the gaja tribes, even if such an examination might lead into some very uncomfortable territory.
Act 𝐼: The “Cyber-vamps”
First, let’s look at what the broader vampire subculture has degenerated into now—Online, there are perhaps thousands of decentralized echo chambers for edgy teenagers, bored housewives and balding, unattractive Okies to shout into cyberspace how, “they are the Night!” Their memberships overlap to a point where all the groups seem to blur together, had it not been for such obnoxious names like “REAL VAMPIRES AND OTHERKIN ONLY!”
The worst offender on the social media stage is none other than VCN—Vampire Community News, which seems to feature very few Vampyres, very little news and is the farthest thing from a community one could imagine. I’d already addressed certain points about the Facebook group before and will not revisit them. Instead, I’ll detail a handful of case examples of the types of parasitic, drama-feeding personalities that run rampant within this greasy, macabre corner of cyberspace.
Years ago, when I was young, ignorant and believing New Age nonsense about “leaky chakras” and all that, there was this self-proclaimed “vampirologist” who got his kicks from harassing the ascended LARPers of the VC, questioning their Masquerade-inspired delusions and generally causing a ruckus. He and his sidekicks brought nothing of worth to the community other than perhaps the entertainment of a few titty attacks; I sat back and regarded him as what he most immediately appeared to be—a bored internet troll with too much time on his hands—without giving much consideration to his personal motives, if any. This is one of the few occasions where the troll was not claiming to be a vampire, but was instead investigating the mythical and fictional vampire and such hoaxes as the Highgate Cemetery incident, and instead taking out his frustrations at such ghouls not existing on the poor, unmedicated ghouls of the VC.
One curious character of note that many found quite entertaining was this certain well-known keyboard warrior bearing a long and ridiculous name who hails from California, who frequently disparages anyone who doesn’t rub his ego or submit to his views—including the oft-repeated line that everyone is a role-player but him and he clearly is the only real vampire in existence—and seems to hold a particular grudge against the so-called “psi vamps.” At this point, I think maybe 90% of the broader vampire subculture must have this fellow blocked. I’d personally grown tired of him and his acolytes rather quickly, especially after a brief back-and-forth in some online comment thread whose particular topic escapes me at the time of this writing, though I do recall some pretty pathetic physical threats made. All in all, a sad, ridiculous little man, but good fun for all of about fifteen minutes before the migraine sets in.
The real interesting ones are the ones who band together and form these personality cults they refer to as “Courts,” rubbing the ego of some degenerate local sex fiend such as in Austin or New Orleans, basing their entire lives around preconceived notions of “vampires” from fiction such as True Blood or The Originals, to make up for, among other things, their unsatisfactory marital lives, recurrent drug addictions and infidelities as well as their general lackluster appearance, regardless of how much lighting and Photoshop is applied to their garish and uber-Goth photoshoots. God forbid you ever criticize them, their LARP cults or their past of propagating laughable myths about washed-up dominatrices and other kinds of historical negationism intended to spite the man who left them all in the dust to struggle with bills and stubborn water weight, or else they’ll gang up on you en masse for daring to question their sacred story, their “goddess” or their ashy and horse-faced “kings” and “queens.”
Did I maybe take that too far? Perhaps I did. Forgive me, I’ve six months of [internal screaming] pent up inside of me that I’m very eager to rid myself of.
Typical of the gaja personalities is the grandiose egos, histrionic personality complexes and general whack-a-doo airs about them where one role-player can be distinguished no more from the others. In regards to the rest of the community, this makes it hard to single out particular individuals—and I also don’t care to make this article a “who’s who” of the looney bin—because the broader vampire subculture as it exists online is a bubbling cacophony of undiagnosed mental illness, theatrical personality complexes, sadomasochistic blood fetishes and other pathologies, swollen egos and personality cults, as well as being defined by a flagrant and incredulous inability (or perhaps refusal) to distinguish celluloid and printed fantasy from objective reality, physical or metaphysical.
Act 𝐼𝐼: The Arkham Asylum
On the subject of individuals refusing to separate reality from fantasy, it brings me to the subject of the so-called “Nightside” community that I have had the misfortune to have interacted with—this philistine swamp the locals refer to as “Gotham Halo.”
I will say first that I learned a valuable lesson recently that deserves consideration, that being that it is wrong for me to ever levy accusations against all of “Gotham.” For what it’s worth, this false Halo called “Gotham” is not a homogeneous community—it’s actually dozens of interconnecting cliques and cabals, most of which generally try to avoid interacting with one another. Over the last few months, I have met with and spoken to a handful of fantastic people who have made it quite clear that “the Halo” does not speak for them. It’s a lot to do with the typical pseudo-politics of this community, as well as unacknowledged or suppressed issues of intersectionality and representation.
For example, this clique of cultists that constantly refers to itself as “the Halo” pretends to speak for all of New York City as well as pretending to speak for the entirety of the interconnecting cliques of the society proper—for example, deciding which networks that exist outside of their system are “rogue Houses” based merely on the fact that they exist outside of their system—and I am told this claim of citywide representation is baseless.
So when we present certain situations such as these, understand it is not “the Halo” sending forward its best, it is them sending forward their worst, their most savage and ignorant, uncultured hoodlums that think that their fetish parties and their cults and their phoney “elders” are the be-all and end-all of the society and anyone who refuses to fall in line—me, for example—is a threat that must be handled in the only way such uncivilized troglodytes know how. I opted to include only a few screenshots for the world to see just one of the many faces and voices of those who claim that they speak for or represent “Gotham.”
This ever-so-collegiate character here is known within the false Halo as Temper Syn, loosely connected to the Fera cult of otherkin Club Kids that turned Gotham into a hedonistic fetish scene of drugs and debauchery through his mate Akela Lykaios, another relatively unknown associate of the club scene cult who had left a few laughable comments of her own. I have spoken to a handful of individuals within the organization from which Temper originally hails, who asked that I not include their name, and they informed me that this fellow does not speak for them nor is he permitted to represent them in this fashion.
I say that is a very good call on their part, as apparently shooting his mouth off at inappropriate times, without due cause or permission from his superiors, is an unfortunate well-known habit this fellow has that stands to bring upon much unneeded damage upon their community.
It seems an issue much of the Gotham cult suffers from—Just look at their pitiful handling of what has become known as the “Viktor/Victoria” incident, essentially one individual (or several individuals) sending people into hysterics by attacking them from behind multiple Facebook accounts.
These comments, however, really speak to the psychological profiles of a great number of these cultists, not just this one—Though take this one interpretation, for instance: a man who seeks to reclaim his manhood and release his anger by threatening a man that looks like a woman? Closeted homophobia? Trouble at home? Relationship issues? Can’t perform adequately in bed? Undiagnosed mental illness? Here in the “Gotham Halo,” it could be any or all of these, and it is this kind of behavior which goes unacknowledged and even encouraged by the “Gotham” cult’s hierarchy.
For a gaggle of role-players who pretend to be “wolves” and “dragons” and other beasts, it seems issues of humanity such as manhood and civility are very delicate concepts. I’m notably younger than the people and community I’ve set my face against, yet I manage to use my words in an argument like a normal person who was raised with some sense.
For the learned Strigoi Vii lady or gentleman, it is worth noting that there is a difference between true Beasts and mere animals, but what more does one expect from a city—pardon the pun—quite literally thrown to the dogs?
It should be noted that a majority of the threats come from this one camp in particular, who are primarily responsible for the cultural and social disintegration of the Gotham Halo as a Sanguinarium/Vampyre construct into the degenerate swamp of cocaine addiction, alcoholism and S&M fetishism is has become today.
The simple and most prudent answer to these pathetic threats so far has been a hearty laugh shared with my compatriots, both here and abroad. Like memes, my mates and I pass these screenshots around and we all have a good chuckle at the expense of the “peaceful and happy” tribe of inbred troglodytes calling itself “Gotham Halo.” Such primitive savagery, such ignorance, that one might almost think they’re in the middle school cafeteria instead of a glorified club scene of egocentric role-players and degenerate parasites.
“It’s easy for people to shit talk [sic] and trash something,” says one such deluded, self-absorbed parasite, “it’s quite another to show love and support even during the dark times.” As formerly the youngest denizen of the “Gotham Halo” and once a proud and vocal drinker of their feigned peace, false narrative Kool-Aid, I can absolutely agree—it’s all fun and games until one day you wake up and realize everything your “wise and wonderful elders” taught you was a lie.
They are “proud to uplift” and even “patriotic,” so they so proudly proclaim online, so proud of this philistine conclave of cheap cocaine, herpes and go-go dancers that they’ve even gone and created a new ankh to represent these ideals and tenets of the false Halo—the so-called “New Era ankh,” as seen below, the latest in a succession of monstrous, blasphemous and ugly abominations pilfered from the Sabretooth culture they so love to hate, though what “new era” it represents, I am at a loss to define, as the false Halo is still dominated by the same egotistical role-players, drug addicts and sexual predators making the same Game of Thrones-esque power plays they were when I was first sucked into the cult nearly four years ago.
The only somewhat intelligent argument that the Fera cult and its supporters seem able to muster is why I don’t present my arguments before them—on their terms, mind you, in their forums, to their cult compatriots. The Lykaios woman was only the second to pose this challenge, and at first, I actually considered it.
My esteemed adoptive brother, Shaolin MacPhee, ever an apologist to only the lowest scum of Gotham, was the first to challenge me in response to my rather blunt opinions on his new “ankh of shame,” suggesting that I come before a round table of these primitives, lay my ankh on the table and step away, to allow them to judge whether I, a Strigoi Vii, am worthy of wearing the sacred artifact which they have bastardized and disgraced time and time again.
With all due respect to that dear man who seems to love playing with his food and considering it his equal, I would never waste my time coming before a room full of fetishists, role-players and other tainted meats to allow them to judge me on something they have no legitimate say in. Indeed, their entire community and its Legacy is based entirely on shaky foundations, decades-old grudges and incredulous conspiracy theories. Why, considering how he knows me better than anyone within the Gotham cult, he would ever suggest anything so asinine is beyond me.
It is for that same reason I would never meet any of these mangy curs in fisticuffs—Such street trash is not worth the time or energy of any true Vampyre.
The only reason I’m writing this at all is because people have a right to know the truth of what goes on within this false “Halo.” It is not worth investing anything more than a passing glance so that others know that not all of New York City is like these heathens, nor do these savages speak for all of New York, no matter how much they claim to do so. It is this question of legitimacy that has made these false leaders the target of my ire over the last year, and brings up bigger questions that must one day be answered.
Act 𝐼𝐼𝐼: The Twenty Year Grudge
This has been one subject I’m loathe to speak about because it drags a respectable sovereign entity and its adherents into a mess they didn’t start, wouldn’t know what to do with and indeed should have no part of. A wonderful organization, in fact, without which none of these phonies and fakes who call themselves “vampires” and whatnot would have ever donned their plastic fangs, glassy contact lenses and sweat-soaked corsets. And what of the organization’s leader, a martyred pariah constantly torn down by jealous and spiteful zealots who could never dream of achieving a fraction of what he has?
Hell, having struggled with poverty and homelessness in the past, I can sympathize with a bunch of thugs and thots from the projects being envious of someone who’s got it all together.
Together, they may not have “started” the vampire subculture, but they most definitely molded it into what it has become today, and to the ingrates of “Gotham,” that absolutely drives them mad.
The lost and deluded Gotham cultists feel entitled to the Sanguine ankh glyph as a personal sigil due to many wild, hitherto baseless conspiracy theories surrounding the passing of Saint D’Drennan, from whom the Legacy Ankh was commissioned, and his relationship with the glyph as a tangible product up until his death. What we know for certain is who the Legacy ankh is formally and legally owned by, and where they and their passions have taken them—far, far away from the false “Halo” called “Gotham,” this usurper “Halo,” this modern dystopia that will forever be known to history as, “the experiment that failed.” Rather than be mature adults, move on from the past and rebuild bridges and connections, these vile rats decided to bootleg the sacred glyph over and over again, each time with a more baseless and hollow meaning or dedication than the last. The “SVR” ankh, for example—meant to be a tribute to the original Sabretooth ankh—has fallen into the hands of every Fulano, Mengano and Zutano from here to Colorado and become the “cereal box ankh” of the modern era.
And on the topic of representation, we can address the other blasphemous abomination the sex cult has pushed out in tepid constipation from its oozing pustules of degeneracy. Branded by its creators as a “universal sigil” for all the pushers, pedophiles, prostitutes and parasites of the false Halo, the “New Era” ankh is another pitiful attempt at attaching this cesspool of a community to the Legacy put forth by Clan Sabretooth Alpha by now co-opting politically far-right-leaning fanatical nationalism and stamping it onto a lazy and uninspired design. Take a single glance at the social media profiles of said pushers to see how desperate they are to maintain a façade of their same old feigned unity, like drunken neo-Nazis on Twitter, belching forth nonsense about “Gotham Halo pride.”
Having been sucked up into such nonsense previously, as I noted before, I can relate to the fanatical, nationalistic sentiment of being proud of nothing, or being proud of a lie, and desperately wanting to believe that it’s true. It’s called steering a narrative, and debased organizations like Gotham’s Haven cult and Sahjaza’s Blood Nations/Unity Project have attempted to do so for years, blowing up smoke to obfuscate truth, intimidating and shaming dissenters into silence and trying to hold together a shattered glass house with duct tape and a forced smile, totally oblivious to the fact that we all see right through it. People within the false Halo might recall the days when I was a prospect of House Sabretooth Omega, when I worshiped the ground a certain somebody walked on and dedicated various works of art and poetry in his name. That was before I woke up from my two years of brainwashing and realized everything I’d learned about the history and the city was a lie. The unity was a lie, the feigned peace was a lie.
Damn, no wonder I’m so angry.
The difference between myself and those charlatans, however, is that from the outside looking in, it is difficult for anyone to tell whether they truly believe the lie, the narrative they seek to perpetuate, as I did, or whether they are aware of the fact that they’re just playing another round of their Masquerade role-play for the fifteenth year in a row.
I tried playing the Gotham LARP by the rules once upon a time.
By comparison, I’ve played less malicious games of Mario Party.
I may not speak for the false Halo, this decrepit necropolis of ignorance and debauchery they call “Gotham,” but I do speak for my experiences within it, the things I’ve witnessed firsthand and the vile things I’ve heard about various personalities, backed up with evidence and irrefutable personal testimony.
The denizens of false “Gotham” love to steal so much—they steal money, they steal spouses, they steal ankhs and sacred sigils from the Alpha. Why don’t they go steal some culture or magick from Alpha? Why don’t they steal some class and elegance?
Oh, right—Because just ask them about that and the response you’ll receive is, “Oh, you’re into that Todd shit. You’re into that white boy shit. You’re into that Lazarus shit.”
Go steal something of worth since you so miserably fail at even stealing a Legacy, since the one you leave behind is for shame.
It has been said that rats often flee a sinking ship, but it doesn’t seem that way now. From the top down, all of the fools who lent their support to what the broader vampire subculture has become have damned themselves to a Legacy of shame and disgrace. The sad thing is that none of them appear to care.
But I can’t keep this up. As much as people deserve to know the truth, for me and others to constantly have to call out these frauds, thieves and charlatans for what they’ve done, it gets tiring. It’s exhausting and disappointing because deep down inside, we know they’ll never change. They don’t want to change. They don’t want culture, or class, or magick.
They are searching for escapism.
They want to avoid their 9-to-5’s and their ill-begotten children, their unfaithful spouses and their recurrent cocaine and heroine addictions, their piled-up bills and ailing parents, and will certainly destroy more than just a small subculture in order to do so, because all that matters is that escape.
If they weren’t such horrible human beings across the board, yes, we would absolutely feel sympathy for them. But such is not the case, and they have all collectively damned themselves to their own fate.
Given what I’ve posted here, I’m likely to have agitated the false Halo into more of its pseudo-political role-play jargon and will eventually be exiled—If so, it’s about goddamned time, and all I ask is that I receive confirmation in writing so as to show it off, ornately framed above my work desk. I’ll even show up in person for one of their theatrical kangaroo courts. (Hear that, Shaolin? I’m cooperating!)
But try as I might to crack my typical tasteless jokes, I still can’t shake the sense of melancholy of all the wasted potential this community had.
Could one imagine the entire population of the false Halo instead as Zhep’r-seeking Strigoi Vii Vampyres, or as true witches and shamans and skinwalkers? Imagine in your mind’s eye the community in my city or your city the way it ought to be, the way it was meant to be.
Isn’t it beautiful?
The definition of a Halo is roughly analogous to the term nexion, a gate or node coursing with the energy of thousands of people and their Potential. That’s what it should be. That is what we should have. But fate took a different turn.
There are those of us out there who want to see something better for our city, and I am inundated with messages of support from people all around the world who encourage me to continue to speak out against tyranny and to fight for a better future.
Let us not worry any longer about the false Halos and their degenerate cult leaders. They are as good as dead, as are their communities, their future and their Legacies. Let them pretend, let them assume their false identities and play their little games.
Instead of wasting energy on wasted potential, why not focus our attention on beautiful, powerful and inspiring groups like Clan Sabretooth? They never concern themselves with such degenerate nonsense, and look at how well they get along. Look at the Crescent Halo Krewe of New Orleans, who promote unity, fun and family, or websites like Draconem, the Messenger and Vampire Network that encourage others to pursue Zhep’r by whichever name they might call it.
Those are the kinds of people who inspire us here in New York City.
Remember when I said me and a few associates have been plotting behind the scenes? Just know that there is a future for culture, magick and elegance in this great city.
The false Halo claims to be the “Rome of the Vampires,” but is in reality the Constantinople of the in-person vampire subculture, a once-great citadel overrun by uncivilized barbarians and Saracen savages. Sure, they have us beat in numbers and their cult mentality, but we are some big dreamers, and our dream is to establish here a great Babylon for ourselves and for the future.
Together, no one can stop us.
In the vein of ending each of my posts on a positive note, well, here it is.
Think upon all which you’ve read here tonight, and consider how it made you feel—Angry? Upset? Disappointed? Hopeless?
That’s how so many of us felt for years, as dejected and hopeless as though we lived in some war-torn Third World nation. That is, until one day we all sat around one day and realized our Potential, and that together we can change the future.
Turning our backs on the fallen past, disgraced Legacies and a city of lies, this is our final curtain call.
Tomorrow is the dawn of a new day, and a new era in the history of this great movement.
In the Blood,
Vincent Irkalla, 01:56, 13 Aug, SY 23