The Slaves Shall Serve
The journey into subjugation doesn’t always begin with shackles. Sometimes, it starts with a closed mind, a diverted gaze, or a truth we choose not to see. This isn’t just about belief systems or hidden philosophies—something much deeper is happening. Something that society keeps denying. From the suppression of what’s happening in our skies to the passive silence of those entrusted with the truth, we keep circling the same pattern: spiritual blindness, consensual deception, and the quiet drift into servitude. We uncover a progression—subtle at first, devastating in the end—that leads to a form of servitude more insidious than any iron chain.
Spiritual blindness isn’t simply ignorance. It’s a refusal—or a deep inability—to perceive greater truths. In Biblical literature, it’s portrayed as a universal human condition. For instance, in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus rebukes his disciples for their lack of understanding, emphasizing how effort and faith are needed to attain spiritual clarity.
“Though seeing, they do not perceive; though hearing, they do not understand.”
This blindness stretches beyond the religious sphere. In modern UFO discourse, it refers to the disconnection from authentic inner awareness. People, consumed by distractions, propaganda, or comfort, lose their hunger for meaning. They become passive spectators in their own lives.
Without this clarity, the stage is set for the next fall: we start participating in the lie. In some esoteric and fringe metaphysical circles, this is explained through the notion that many individuals function like Non-Player Characters (NPCs)—beings who operate without developed self-awareness or conscious autonomy. Borrowed from video game terminology, this metaphor reflects a deeper concern: that vast portions of the population may live without questioning, simply reacting to external stimuli or societal scripts. Much like philosophical zombies, they appear human but lack inner wakefulness, moving through life on programmed routines. This idea challenges us to examine how often we ourselves fall into unconscious behavior, and whether awakening to our own agency is the first step in resisting the larger deception. Deception, in this context, works much like camouflage in nature—masking what is, blending truth with falsehood, and allowing manipulation to hide in plain sight. Just as animals evolve to blend into their environment to survive or hunt, so too do social and spiritual lies adapt to remain undetected. Participation becomes not just a response to fear or comfort, but a conditioned behavior wired into our need for safety, acceptance, or gain.
Spiritual blindness also appears prominently in Christian theology, where it is defined as an inability to see or understand spiritual truths due to sin, rejection of God, or demonic deception. Biblical verses like 2 Corinthians 4:4 and John 9:39-41 speak of a blindness that obstructs salvation and enlightenment. It is considered both a symptom and a cause of deception, making one susceptible to misleading ideologies and false teachings.
This concept also emerges in broader discussions about how institutional control fosters ignorance. For example, the normalization of distraction and manipulation in the digital age is examined in the context of spiritual blindness, revealing how many willingly disconnect from deeper truths. The shaping of public perception is further examined in the concept of a modern-day Ministry of Truth, where information is curated and distorted in ways that quietly reinforce collective blindness and false consensus.
Once blindness takes root, it becomes easy—even appealing—to accept falsehood. Consensual deception describes this state where people agree to be misled. Not out of malice, but because the alternative—truth—demands too much.
Oscar Wilde’s 1895 play The Importance of Being Earnest captures this well. Its characters adopt false identities and absurd stories to escape the suffocating expectations of Victorian society. The result? A comedy of errors that feels uncomfortably familiar—because beneath the humor lies a timeless critique of how often people choose deception to maintain appearances, avoid discomfort, or gain social advantage. It’s funny because it’s true, and unsettling because it still reflects how many navigate modern life.
Research suggests that consensual deception often shows up in psychological and social dynamics—white lies in relationships, for instance. Philosophically, it appears when people adopt false narratives for security or personal comfort.
This willingness to accept comforting lies, especially in spiritual contexts, can deepen spiritual blindness. When people consent to follow misleading doctrines or charismatic figures out of convenience, they trade truth for ease—and freedom for control.
In The Great Deception, we see how entire societies may embrace misleading narratives for the illusion of safety or control—another layer of consensual deception that masks deeper truths.
Aleister Crowley’s The Book of the Law declares chillingly: “The slaves shall serve.” It’s not just a threat; it’s a prophecy. Crowley argued that those who do not rise to discover and follow their True Will are destined to submit to those who do.
“There are many persons who are naturally slaves… These persons cannot accept the Law.”
In this view, servitude is not imposed—it is chosen. Or rather, it’s the inevitable consequence of choosing blindness and false comfort over freedom and responsibility.
Beyond Crowley’s writings, the phrase appears in modern culture. Behemoth’s 2004 song “Slaves Shall Serve” channels Crowley’s ideas through the lens of violent rebellion against religious and societal subjugation. The lyrics—lines like “Slaves shall serve as crowns are falling / As the apocalypse is nearing” and “Slaves shall serve as inferior life form / Slaves shall serve as undead rivals”—evoke a world on the edge of collapse, where false hierarchies are disintegrating, and those who blindly serve are reduced to spiritually undead participants in a doomed order. It’s an aggressive anthem of inversion—flipping the narrative of obedient submission into one of primal awakening.
This same pattern is echoed in discussions of how spiritual consent can be subtly manipulated through ritual and belief. The idea that individuals may unknowingly participate in their own subjugation is reflected in Permission to Enslave, which illustrates how occult frameworks and psychological conditioning can quietly erode personal agency—mirroring Crowley’s notion that those who do not assert their will are destined to serve.
The phrase becomes a warning. If spiritual blindness leads to deception, and deception leads to passive consent, then bondage—mental, spiritual, even physical—is the final step. Across esoteric traditions, this progression is often framed as a choice: the external world is not neutral—it can act as a demonic force, constantly shaping, tempting, and distorting. In Hermeticism, this is mirrored in the myth of humanity falling in love with its reflection in nature, choosing material bondage over divine clarity. In Kabbalah, the Sitra Achra represents the seductive ‘other side’ that challenges the soul’s alignment with the divine. The Bhagavad Gita likewise speaks of divine and demonic qualities coexisting in us all, with our actions determining which nature we embody. Even in Christian theology, the world is often cast as the domain of demonic forces, placing the burden of choice on the individual: follow and become part of it—or awaken and reclaim your divine inheritance. These patterns echo across accounts of interdimensional contact and esoteric encounters, where deception, spiritual consent, and perception manipulation often appear as mechanisms of control. They raise timeless moral questions—are we inherently good or bad, and can we desire without needing to possess? The choice to resist demonic conformity and remain independent often leads toward divine creativity, while yielding to the external current risks assimilation into that very force.
This cycle—blindness → deception → servitude—is not just historical. A relevant example of controlled disclosure is the use of the Chatham House Rule, first established in 1927 by the Royal Institute of International Affairs in London. The rule allows participants to use the information shared in a meeting but forbids the identification of speakers or their affiliations. While intended to encourage openness, it also creates a sanctioned environment for withholding truth, compartmentalizing knowledge, and managing perception—principles echoed in both interdimensional and occult dynamics where secrecy and consent play central roles. It’s happening now, around us and within us. Every time we avoid hard truths, every time we nod along to what we know isn’t right, we move one step closer to willing bondage.
But there’s a way out. It starts with seeing—truly seeing. Then, with rejecting the easy lie. And finally, reclaiming sovereignty over our own minds, choices, and souls.
Otherwise, as Crowley warned, the alternative is simple:
The slaves shall serve.
And when NHI and UFO disclosure never comes—despite countless testimonies, sightings, and suppressed programs—one must ask whether humanity itself has accepted the lie for so long that it no longer recognizes truth when it’s withheld. The skies above are active with secrets, and yet those involved in retrievals and cover-ups continue without shame, without reckoning. What does it mean when generations pass, and no one remains who remembers, who can testify to what was real? When memory is replaced by narrative, and truth is buried under decades of managed perception, society returns again to step one: blindness. And the cycle begins anew.
