Welcome to Cowboy Classics with Scott Paladin. Our work tonight, the book of your reason. Braille to the book of your reason of the primeval Priests assumed power when eternals spurned back his religion and gave him a place in the north. Obscure, shadowy void, Solitary Eternals, I hear your call. Gladly dictate swift winged words and fear not to unfold your dark, dark visions of torment. Chapter one. Lo, a shadow of horror has risen in eternity. Unknown, unprolific self closed, all repelling. What demon hath formed this abominable void, this soul shuddering vacuum? Some said it is your reason. But unknown, abstract, distracted, brooding, secret the dark power hid. Times on times he divided and measured space by space. In his ninefold darkness unseen unknown changes appeared in his desolate mountains, rifted furious by the black winds of perturbation. For he strove in battles dire, in unseen conflictions, with shapes bred from his forsaken wilderness of beast, bird, fish, serpent and element, combustion, blast, vapor and cloud, dark, revolving and silent activity, unseen and tormenting passions. An activity unknown and horrible, A self contemplating shadow in enormous laborers occupied. But eternals beheld his vast forests. Ages on ages he lay closed, unknown, brooding shut in the deep. All avoid the petrific abominable chaos, his cold horror Silent dark ureason prepared his 10 thousands of thunders ranged in gloomed array stretch out across the dread world and the rolling of wheels as of swung and seas sound in his clouds, in his hills of stored snows, in his mountains of hail and ice, Voices of terror are heard like thunders of autumn when the cloud blazes over the harvests. Chapter 2. Earth was not nor globes of attraction the will of the immortal expanded or contracted his all flexible senses. Death was not but eternal laugh. Sprung the sound of a trumpet, the heavens awoke and vast clouds of blood rolled round the dim rocks of Irreason, so named that solitary one in immensity. Shrill the trumpet and myriads of eternity muster around the bleak deserts now filled with clouds, darkness and waters that rolled perplexed, laborin and uttered words articulate, bursting in thunders that rolled on the tops of his mountains from the depths of dark solitude, from the eternal abode in my holiness hidden, set apart in my stern councils, reserved for the days of futurity. I have sought for a joy without pain, for a solid without fluctuation. Why will you die, O eternals? Why live in unquenchable burdens? First I fought with the fire consumed inwards into a deep world, within a void immense, wild, dark and deep, where nothing Was nature's wide womb and self balance stretched o'er the void. I alone, even I the winds merciless bound, but condensing in torrents they fall and fall strong. I repelled the vast waves and arose in the waters a wide world of solid obstruction. Here alone I in books formed of metals have written the secrets of wisdom, the secrets of dark contemplation by fightins and conflicts dire, which terrible monsters sin bred, which the bush bosoms of all inhabit. Seven Deadly sins of the soul. Lo. I unfold my darkness, and on this rock place with strong hand the book of eternal brass, written in my solitude Laws of peace, of love, of unity, of pity, compassion, forgiveness. Let each choose one habitation, his ancient infinite mansion. One command, one joy, one desire, one curse, one weight, one measure, one king, one God, one law. Chapter Three the voice ended. They saw his pale visage emerge from the darkness, his hand on the rock of eternity, unclasping the book of Brass. Rage seized the strong rage, fury intense indignation. In cataracts of fire, blood and gall, in whirlwinds of sulfurous smoke and enormous forms of energy, all the seven deadly sins of the soul and living creatures appeared in the flames of eternal fury. Sundering, darkening, thundering, rent away with a terrible crash. Eternity rolled wide apart, white asunder, rolling, mountainous all around, Departing, departing, departing, leaving ruinous fragments of land, hanging frowning cliffs, and all between an ocean of voidness unfathomable. The roaring fires ran o'er the heavens in whirlwinds and cataracts of blood. And o'er the dark deserts of your reason. Fires pour through the void on all sides on Yarizen's self begotten armies, but no light from the fires. All was darkness in the flames of eternal fury, in fierce anguish and quenchless flames. To the deserts and rocks he ran raging to hide, but he could not. Combining he dug mountains and hills in vast strength, he piled them in incessant labor, in howlings and pangs and fierce madness, Long periods in burning fires laboring till hoary and age broke and aged in despair and the shadows of death and a roof vast petrific around on all sides he framed like a womb where thousands of rivers and veins of blood poured down the mountains to cool the eternal fires beaten without from eternals. And like a black globe viewed by sons of eternity, standing on the shore of the infinite ocean, like a human heart struggling and beaten, the vast world of irreason appeared. And lo, round the dark globe of irreason kept watch for eternals to confine the obscure separation alone for eternity stood wide apart as the stars are apart from the earth. Los wept, howling around the dark demon and cursing his lot for an anguish. Yirisan was rent from his side in a fathomless void for his feet and intense fires for his dwelling. But Yirisen lay in a stony sleep, unorganized, rent from eternity. The Eternals said, what is this? Death arisen is clod of clay. Los howled in a dismal stupor, groaning, gnashing, groaning, till the wrenching apart was healed but the wrenching of your reason healed, not cold, featureless flesh or clay rifted with direful changes. He laid in a dreamless sleep till Los roused his fires affrighted at the formless, immeasurable death. Chapter 4 A Los Smitten with astonishment, frightened at the hurling bones and at the surging, sulphurous, perturbed, immortal, mad region. In the whirlwinds and pitch and nitre round the furious limbs of loess and Los formed nets and djinns and threw the nets about. He watched in shuddering fear the dark changes and bound every change with rivets of iron and brass, and these were the changes of your reason. Chapter 4B ages on ages rolled over him in stony sleep. Ages rolled over him like a dark waste stretching unchangeable by earthquakes riven, belching sudden fires on ages rolled ages in ghastly sick torment. Around him in whirlwinds of darkness, the eternal prophet howled, beating still on his rivets of iron, boring solder of iron dividing the hors horrible night in the watches and your reason. Though his eternal name, his prolific delight obscured more and more in the dark secrecy hiding insurgent sulfur as fluid as fantasies, the eternal prophet heaved the dark bellows and turned restless the tongs and the hammer incessant beat, forging chains new and new, numbering with links hours, days and years, the eternal mind bounded, began to roll eddies of wrath ceaseless, round and round, and the sulphurous foam surging thick, settled a lake bright and shining clear, white as the snow on the mountain's cold forgetfulness, dumbness, necessity in chains of the mind, locked up like fetters of ice, shrinking together, disorganized, went from eternity. Los beat on his fetters of iron and heated his furnaces and poured iron solder and solder of brass. Restless turned the immortal enchained, heaving, dolorous, anguished, unbearable till the roof shaggy wild and closed in an orb, his fountain of thought in a Horrible dreamful slumber, like the linked infernal chain, A vast spine writhed in torment upon the winds, Shooting pained ribs like a bending cavern. And bones of solidness froze over all his nerves of joy. And a first age passed over in a state of dismal woe. From the caverns of his jointed spine down sunk with fright, or red round globe, hot burning deep, deep down into the abyss, panting, conglomerate trembling, shooting out 10,000 branches around his solid bones. And a second age passed over in a state of dismal woe, in heroin fear rolling around his nervous brain, shot branches around the branches of his heart on high into two little orbs, and fixed in two little caves, hiding carefully from the wind, his eyes beheld the deep. And a third age passed over an estate of dismal woe. The pangs of hope began in heavy pain, strive and struggle, and two ears in close volutions from beneath his orbs of vision shot spirin out and petrified as they grew. And a fourth age passed an estate, a dismal woe in gas lit torment, sick, hanging upon the wind, two nostrils bent down to the deep. And a fifth age passed over in a state of dismal woe, in ghastly torment, sick within his ribs, bloated round a craving hungry cavern. Thence arose his channeled throat, and like a red flame a tongue athirst of hunger appeared. And a sick sage passed over in a state of dismal woe. Enraged and stifled with torment, he threw his right arm to the north, his left arm to the south, shooting out in anguish deep. And his feet stamped the nether abyss in trembling and howling and dismayed. And a seventh age passed over in a state in terrors. Los shrunk from his task. His great hammer fell from his hand, his fires beheld and sickening, hid their strong limbs in smoke. For the noise is ruinous, loud with hurtlings and clashings and groans. The immortal endured his chains, though bound in a deadly sleep. All the myriads of eternity, all the wisdom and joy of life roll like a sea around him, except what his little orbs of sight by degrees unfold. And now his eternal life, like a dream, was obliterated. Shuddering, the eternal prophet smote with a stroke from his north to south region. The bellows and Hamm are silent now, nerveless silence. His prophetic voice seized a cold solitude and dark void. The eternal prophet and your reason closed. Ages on ages rolled over them, cut off from life and light, frozen into forms of deformity. Los suffered his fires to decay. Then he looked back with anxious desire. But the space, undivided by existence, struck horror into his soul. Los wept, obscured with mourning, his bosom earthquaked with sighs. He saw your reason deadly black, and his chains bound. And pity began in anguish, dividin and divided. For pity divides the soul in pangs of eternity. On eternity life in cataracts poured down his cliffs. The void shrunk, the limpant nerves wandering wide on the bosom of night and left round a globe of blood trembling upon the void. Thus the eternal prophet was divided before the death image of your reason. For in changeable clouds and darkness, in a winter lid, night, night, beneath the abyss of Loess stretched immense and now seen, now obscured in the eyes of Eternals, the visions remote of the dark separation appeared. As glasses discover worlds in the endless abyss of space, so the expanding eyes of immortals beheld the dark visions of Los and the globe of lifeblood trembling. The globe of lifeblood trembled, branching out into roots, fibrous, writhing upon the winds. Fibers of blood, milk and tears in pangs, eternity on eternity. At length, in tears and cries embodied a female form, trembling and pale waves before his deathly face. All eternity shuddered at sight of the first female, now separate, pale as a cloud of snow waving before the face. Alos. Wonder, awe, fear, astonishment petrify the eternal myriads. At the first female form, now separate. They called her pity and fled. Spread a tent with strong curtains around them. Let cords and stakes bind in the void that Eternals may no more behold them. They began to weave curtains of darkness. They erected large pillars round the void with golden hooks, fastened at the pillars with infinite labor the Eternals. A wolf wove and called it it Science. Chapter six. But Loess saw the female and pitied. He embraced her. She wept, she refused. In perverse and cruel delight she fled from his arms, yet he followed. Eternity shuddered when they saw a man begetting his likeness on his own divided image. A time passed over. The Eternals began to erect the tent when anithermon, sick, felt a worm within her womb. Yet helpless, it lay like a worm in the trembling womb to be molded into existence. All day the worm lay on her bosom. All night within her womb the worm lay till it grew to a serpent. With dolorous hissings and poisons round anithermon's loins folden, Coiled within anithermon's womb, the serpent grew, cast in its scales. With sharp pangs the hissings began to change to a greeting, cry many sorrows and dismal Throes many forms of fish, bird and beast brought forth an infant form. Where was Wyrm before the Eternals their tent finished. Alarmed with these gloomy visions, when Aneth Armon groan and producing a man child to the light, a shriek ran through eternity and a paralytic stroke at the birth of the human shadow. Silvan Earth in his resistless way Howland the child. With fierce flames issued from Anith Amon. The Eternals closed the tent. They beat down the stakes. The cords stretched for a work of eternity. No more. Los beheld eternity. In his hands he seized the infant. He bathed him in spurrings of sorrow. He gave him to anithermon. Chapter 7 the name of the Child Orc he grew, fed with the milk of Anitharmon Los awoke her. O sorrow and pain. A tightening girdle grew around his bosom. Bosom in sabins he burst the girdle in twain. But still another girdle oppressed his bosom in sabins. Again he burst it. Again another girdle succeeds. The girdle was formed by day, by night was burst in twain. These fallen down the rock into an iron chain in each other, link by link locked they took or cork to the top of a mountain. Oh, how an Itermund wept. Chained his young limbs to the rock with the chain of jealousy. Beneath your reason's dreadful shadow the dead heard the voice of the child and began to awake from sleep. All things heard the voice of the child and began to awake to life. And your reason, craven with hunger, stung with the odors of nature, explored his dens around. He formed a line and plummet to divide the abyss beneath. He formed a dividing rule. He formed scales to weigh. He formed massy weights, he formed a brazen quadrant. He formed a golden compass abyss and began to explore the abyss. And he planted a garden of fruits. But Los encircled Anith Amon with fires of prophecy from the sight of Irezen and Orc and she bore an enormous race. Chapter 8 Yerizen explored his dens, mountains, moor and wilderness With a globe of fire lighten his journey. A fearful journey, annoyed by cruel enormities, forms of life of his forsaken mountains. In his world teemed vast enormities, frightening, faithless, fawning portions of life. Similitudes of foot or a hand, or a head, or a heart or an eye. They swam mischievous Dread terrors the lightning blood most your reason sicken to see his eternal creations appear. Sons and daughters of sorrow. On mountains, weeping, wailing first Theriel appeared astonished at his own existence, Like a man from a cloud born and Utha from the waters emerging. Laments Grodna rent the deep earth. Howling, amazed his heaven's immense cracks like the ground parched with heat, Then fusion flamed out. First begotten, last born all his eternal sons in like manner his daughters from green herbs and cattle from monsters and worms of the pit he in darkness closed, viewed all his race and his soul sickened he cursed both sons and daughters. For he saw that no flesh nor spirit could keep his iron laws one moment. For he saw that life lived upon death. The ox in the slaughterhouse moans the dog at the wintry door. And he wept and he called it pity. And his tears flowed down on the winds. Cold he wandered on high o'er their cities in weeping and pain and woe. And wherever he wandered in sorrows upon the aged heaven, a cold shadow followed behind him like a spider's web, Moist, cold and dim, Drawing out from his sorrow and soul a dungeon like heaven dividing Wherever the footsteps of reason walked o'er the cities in sorrow till a web dark and cold threw out all the tormented elements stretched from the sorrows of your reason and soul. And the web is a female in embryo, none could break the web. No wings of fire so twisted the cords and so knotted the meshes twisted like a human brain. And all called it the net of religion. Chapter 9. Then the inhabitants of those cities felt their nerves change into marrow and hardening bones began in swift diseases and torments, in throbbins and shootings and grindings through all the coasts till weakened the senses inward rushed shrinken beneath the dark net of infection, Till the shrunken eyes clouded over, discerned not the woven hypocrisy but the streaky slime in their heavens brought together by narrowing perceptions appeared transparent air. For their eyes grew small like the eyes of a man, and in reptile forms, shrinking together of seven feet stature, they remained six days they shrunk up from existence. And on the seventh day they rested and they blessed the seventh, seventh day in sick hope and forgot their eternal Life. And their 30 cities divided in form of a human heart. No more could they rise at will to the infinite void. But bound down to earth by their narrowing perceptions they lived a period of years, then left a noisome body to the jaws of devourant darkness. And their children wept and built tombs in the desolate places and formed laws of prudence and called them the eternal laws of God. And the 30 cities remained surrounded by salt floods, now called Africa. Its name was then Egypt. The remaining sons of Urizen beheld their brethren, shrank together beneath the net of Urezin. Persuasion was in vain, for the ears of the inhabitants were withered and deafened and cold, and their eyes could not discern their brethren of other cities. So fuson called all together the remaining children of Urizen, and they left the pendulous earth. They called it Egypt, and left it and the salt hoshin rolled and globed. End of the book of your reason. Thank you for joining us for cowboy classics with Scott paladin. Our work tonight was the book of your reason by william Blake. This has been a production of the library of cursed knowledge.