I’m glad that I’ve found the free time and the audience to tell my experiences over the last few months. What a few months it’s been!
While I can’t say too much about my business trips to New Orleans and Los Angeles at present due to some really obnoxious and trifling contractual obligations, I do have to clear up one point.
When I was in New Orleans, I happened to meet some members of the local Sabretooth community, a lovely little group called the Crescent Halo Krewe that showed me such genuine kindness and compassion in three days that I’d never experienced in three years in Gotham Halo, and I was so bewildered and overwhelmed that I exploded in a very loud and nasty Facebook Live. The Fera/Haven cultists were very quick to jump into the comments with an equal amount of vitriol—“If you love it so much, stay! Don’t come back!”
I’d certainly considered it. If Gotham so wishes to be rid of me, I’ll make them a deal—pay my one-way ticket and six months’ worth of rent for a small studio outside the Quarter and you’ll never see or hear from me again.
Worse than the Live was my esteemed adoptive brother and resident
zookeeper/babysitter Prince of Gotham Shaolin MacPhee patronizing both me and himself, and profoundly disrespecting me and my sovereignty, with a ludicrous and baseless apology (private link) issued on behalf of the New York City whatever-the-hell-they-claim-to-be-now community and myself—without my consent, permission or knowledge. Contrary to the apologist nonsense he spouted there, I did make sure to contact the “high elder” equivalent for New Orleans: Belfazaar Ashantison.
It should not even have to be stated that no apology can be issued on my behalf by this degenerate cesspool of parasitic perversion, little more than a personality cult of thuggish S&M fetishists hosting B-rated events in shoddy bars in reality, especially after my having publicly removed myself months ago. Not one person within that racketeering conglomerate can claim the right to speak for me, just as they are so quick to cry that I “don’t speak for Gotham.” Just because they choose to enable and entertain the egocentric, True Blood-inspired delusions of this certain band of Sabretooth sellouts called Blood Nations does not mean that I am under any obligation to patronize the Unity cult’s role-play “courts” and their pretender “kings.”
If the usurper “king” had taken issue with me being in “his” domain, he should have spoken up when he was five feet from me. Any other questions?
A Tale of Two Cities
VGOT nonsense and Facebook drama aside, my experiences in Crescent Halo struck me in a way that opened my eyes a bit more to what’s at stake, and just how low the broader vampire subculture had fallen—By now, my vulgar outspokenness in regards to (and utter revulsion with) this Sodom of cocaine and herpes called “Gotham” is quite obvious by now. So overcome with disgust and disappointment was I that—as noted above—I made the decision to remove myself from this self-proclaimed “Nightside” community occupied by “fairies, dragons and unicorns” (Yes, that is a real quote from a real person in Gotham), which claims to speak for all but only acknowledges the role-playing S&M fetishists and jaded, washed-up Club Kids within it, this community that has fallen so unrecognizably by the wayside that one would be hard-pressed to find any actual Vampyres within, only a bunch of metaphysically-retarded, energy-deficient etheric parasites passing themselves off as “vampires.”
In spite of the humorous aftermath of the presumptive Queen of Gotham’s attempted exile and all the Facebook drama it produced—which they all secretly live for, anyway—I still occasionally find myself in the center of their nonsense, recently dealing with hollow threats from ass-kissing lupine sycophants, “When I find you, it’s on sight, pussy, pull up,” and all manner of hoodrat nonsense that I rarely even hear from those my own age, let alone some dyslexic, thirty-something year-old cholo Goth. The word “exile” comes up next to my name so often, yet the ascended LARPers and parasitic party monsters that claim to represent Gotham are perfectly fine with one of their own leaving threats of physical harm publicly visible for all the world and the media to see. I don’t think a lesson in public relations would hurt these guys, and honestly, I’m still waiting on that exile.
It’s no secret that the Gotham cultists consider me as much a pariah as a liability, and for a community of people claiming to “ignore” me, they seem to spend a lot of time trolling the comments section on my social media, having taken more to spying recently than exposing their positions. It is flattering, in a morbid way, to know that I have such a loyal fan club.
Although I’ve recently come to see that not everyone involved with the New York City “Nightside” community is a degenerate role-player or jaded parasite consumed with self-serving goals, I am forced to admit that they are the exceptions, not the rule, and although I gained a respect for a select few who I was opposed or indifferent to previously, recent get-togethers and such haven’t done much to revive any respect or hope I had in this dying, desiccated dystopia overall.
This racket of shoddy fetish gatherings enabled by a cult of sweaty parasites called Gotham Halo doesn’t offer true Vampyres that tribal family connection we yearn for. It doesn’t offer the culture, the magick or the elegance we crave; indeed, it has done everything to eliminate it completely, totally rejecting even the slightest trace of, as they so eloquently put it, “Todd shit” (meaning any of the cultural nuances celebrated and embraced by Sabretooth Vampyres and Black Swans.) Anyone who professes an appreciation of true Sanguine culture and society is ostracized and considered a traitor and a sellout—the argument might even turn racially biased, with statements like “that white boy shit” or epithets like “Uncle Tom” infrequently thrown around.
This is why I can come to appreciate and respect the Crescent Halo Krewe of New Orleans, an organization that did for the great and noble city what my witchy associates and I seek to do for ours. As I mentioned before, it took me how many years and to travel hundreds of miles to be treated with any modicum of decency by any in-person vampire community. It’s easy to see why I generated so much controversy with that live stream back in July, so aggressively comparing and contrasting the Crescent Halo to the NYC fetish cult—how graciously I was treated by my hosts, how friendly they were, how hospitable, how emotionally and professionally supportive, basically none of the things I ever received in Gotham.
The Gothamites were in such an uproar that the very legitimacy of CHK was questioned—in reality, to deflect and save face, but truly only because the lineage of the Crescent Halo Krewe is of Sabretooth α, nothing more and nothing less.
So much for preaching “unity” and the rest of this egalitarian nonsense that people only seem to express on social media and no place else.
Unity is unity, not merely feigned peace that exists only on your terms.
If I should be forced to acknowledge the non-existent legitimacy of the so-called “Vampire Court of New Orleans,” then there ought to be no issue with acknowledging Crescent Halo Krewe’s standing within the city, as well—keep that same energy, y’all.
One notices that NOVA is almost never publicly or openly challenged, and seems to have taken this personality cult of LARPing carpetbaggers called Blood Nations sticking a crown on some buffoon’s head rather well, all things considered. Actually, I’d been told that both NOVA and CHK both reached out to parlay with the fool’s court, and little came of it but wasted time. Then again, I don’t expect much in the way of maturity from an illegitimate regent who posts Haha reactions on Facebook comments he doesn’t like.
I don’t think the VC needs a Trump archetype, but he fits the mold better than anyone. I mean, look at him. That’s who speaks for New Orleans? Hacer daño.
I don’t regret my actions or my words, only my manner of expression. I don’t need a Facebook Live stream to convince anyone what a degenerate wasteland this so-called “Gotham Halo” has become. You don’t have to take my word for it—Come to New York City and take a look for yourself, or take a peek into any one of a half-dozen Facebook groups and profiles.
I’m aware that every subculture has its flaws, but the vampire subculture is unlike any other subculture in the world, particularly our neo-feudal slice of the pie. We should do our best to fix our issues and flaws, however, not enable them.
I’ve been accused of addressing problems but never offering solutions—the truth of the matter is no one likes the solutions I’ve offered. If you want a community of actual Vampyres, you obviously need to get rid of the fake ones first. Eliminate the gaja (false Vampyres, parasites, wannabes and role-players) and there, problem solved—without rambling apologetics of pseudo-Marxist utopias and grandiose illusions of ruling over nightclub feeding grounds.
If the Gotham fetish club scene they call a “Halo” is the only thing you would have to feed from, you might want to consider fasting. Just the thought of a dive bar full of mentally-unhinged alcoholic coke-heads carrying any one of a million sexually-transmitted diseases being considered “fair game” physically nauseates me to consider.
We all must try to move away from feeding the parasites—all of us, not just myself. The attention, the back-and-forth drama, that’s what they want. They feed from that. They need it. That’s why their recent expressions over the last two or three years have been so inflammatory—That’s why they need to disgrace themselves by stealing Legacies, distorting and rewriting history and continuing on with their theatrics. To these kinds of individuals, these asarai, this community is just a game to them, a role-play, a movie like so many of the fictional characters they seek to emulate. And like those characters, they are damned and cursed to their lowly existence, pitiful parasites who require your constant attention, who require your energy which is your Blood, and are never satisfied until they’ve got it.
I have never said anything about the New York community that I did not experience personally or could not verify from trusted sources. I realize now that there is nothing left to say, and certainly nothing more to do. This is a great city with pitiful representation; not truly dead, but certainly on life support. I will no longer waste my energy, my time, my Potential, my Zhep’r, in drawing attention to these ascended concubines and Forsaken role-players and the cesspool of hedonistic philistinism and nonsense they’ve turned what was once such a legendary and inspiring movement into. So hopefully, unless they turn around and do something even more incredibly, mind-blowingly stupid and ridiculous that warrants addressing, this will be the last I speak of them.
Think on how I used to love this community, the treatises and poems and hymns I used to write, how I used to practically worship them and was once one of their greatest apologists. It took much trauma, much betrayal, much heartbreak for me to finally say, “Enough is enough.” I realized that the others were right, and that Alpha was right. He was right to leave and take the Legacy with him, because it would have gone to waste in a dystopia like this.
But a wildfire which destroys everything in its path also leaves rich soil in which to plant seeds, and it’s time that we of the Blood, those who have Zhep’r, come together and begin planting for that better tomorrow.
The next generation of Vampyres, mystics and witches have no elders. They have no leadership. Think on why the most “occult” thing people are aware of comes from fiction on television or from the internet, or why being “spiritual” has become another trend or fad.
The magick is not lost, it is only dormant.
It is us who must come together now to wake it up, be we the children of the Blood or the children of Diana, or Lucifer, or the Godhead, or the Orisha, or the Loa, or whoever! This is our city now, our world, our birthright, and we need to come together to reclaim it. This future is, to quote, “ours by right, because it’s our turn.”
Because it’s all ours. The Potential, the Zhep’r, the culture, the magick, the Family, the Legacy.
It’s all ours now.
In the Blood,
Vincent Irkalla, 15:35, 15 Aug, SY 23