To the Sons of AN I say,
I bare no Anger to those who do not bring me a cup filled with anger,
Nor Disrespect for those treat the Daughters of Ki with respect,
Those who see the Goddess express herself in us, are worthy of our Love
For you are the Sons of AN, our worthy Consorts and Companions.
This Letter is not for you, but for the Sons of Samael,
and my heart knows no apology.

A Letter to the Sons of Samael
From Rebecca of Ulmas

As nothing is so dear to you as bringing into this world a replica of yourselves, and it is your custom make this quite clear by naming the replica for yourself, I will honor your custom. As you are the children of a blind and arrogant god made in his image, I will name you for your god, and for the purposes of this discourse refer to you dear reader as Samael.

And who am I? I am Rebecca of Ulmas, Priestess of Ki. Ama tu ANKI.

Did my beginning offend you? Do you long to slap me down? Drive me to my knees, put me in my place. What Words could I utter in what follows could speak half as elegantly as the rage that comes so naturally to your kind.

For what Unites your "Great World Religions", if not a hatred of women.
        Even in your so-called "modern world", many a Daughter of Ki will be drowned TODAY! so that her unworthy father might use her mother as brood mare to pollute the world with a little replica of himself.

For when you see us in our divinity, you long to be with us, to lie next to us, and there is nothing on earth you will pay more dearly for than to lay with a Daughter of Ki, to touch that Divinity. How many women deprived of an opportunity to make an "Honest Living", with strip off their clothes for your entertainment tonight Samael? How many others will "entertain" you in more intimate ways?

And do you thank them sweetly and kiss them tenderly for the great kindness they have shown you, allowing you to touch something divine through them, NO! Once your seed is spilled, and you are no longer blinded by your lust, you see yourself in the mirror of our divinity, and you hate what you see. You hate yourself for your weakness. Overwhelmed and Exposed in a divine presence, suddenly knowing yourself for the dirty animal that you are Samael, you choke and spit the fruit of the tree of knowledge half eaten from your mouth. Child of a craven spirit you lack the courage to admit your own failings, your weakness in the face of your overpowering lust, instead you spit on those that have given to you the greatest of gifts willingly. The crime must be ours for having "Tempted" you. For without the temptation of woman, you imagine you would be pure Samael.

Listen to me oh Sons of Samael, "Nothing from without the man can mark the Man, it is that which comes from with-in the man that marks him." The words of your own sage Damns you Samael. It is not our temptation that makes you wicked, but your own lust, and if you are unclean beasts, and you are, it is not because we soiled you. How can something Divine, Woman, made in the Image of Sophia and Bore of Ki, Soil an Ape? Born unclean, you remain unclean, and you will die unclean Samael.

Oh but have I offended you again Samael?
Shall I tender my Apology to you for offending your honor? Or would it be better if I should simply kneel and suck?

Slave to your lust that you are, you know the thought tempts you. How is it that you would "Show me" that I should respect you, by shaming yourself again, prove to me your honor, by indulging your lust. Oh what a little thing, what a shallow thing, what a wretched thing it is that you call your honor, and we pay such a terrible price for your honor.

How is it then if a woman is raped, that it is she who is stoned, because her families honor has been offended?

The Man is not stoned, even in your delusion you know that something Divine, woman, cannot soil something unclean, You.

Even your own lies Samael cannot wholly deny the truth,
        When you slader Eve, Daughter of Sophia,
        for Eve is the last thing created of all, even above man,
        for she is the Daughter of Ki, the Truest expression of the Goddess,
        the Crown of all creation, and all else in creation prepares the road for her.

A woman is raped and you fear the woman has now become like you, and so you kill her. It is your Sin that shames you, your lust that defiles you, and yourself that you are killing in effigy, it is she who is murdered.

Oh but you would protest, it is not your sin! I paint you with too broad a brush.
How is it then that one in three of my sisters will know what it is to be raped before she returns to Momma-Ki Samael? And that in the supposedly "Enlightened" West. Tell me Samael just how wide is that brush?

How is it, that twice that number of men, admit they would have raped a woman at least once in their lives, if they thought they thought they would not be punished for thier crime? How is it that most women are raped by men they thought they could trust, relatives Samael, and friends. No Samael, my brush is not to broad, not by one bristle. When you pick up the stone, it is because she has shamed you, because she has brought your private sin into the light. You hate her for you see the sin in your own heart, committed on her person, so you throw the stone at your own sin, but it is she who is murdered.

Do you know why you are still listening to my words Samael?
Shall I tell you then, all Ki's children long for truth Samael,
we long to embrace Sophia, no matter how badly that embrace should burn us with purifying fire.

Those who live in a lie, will always retreat into anger and confusion when confronted with the truth,
those who live in truth, have no need of anger, and do not know confusion.

How you hate us Samael, you drown us in our infancy, and stone us in our womanhood.

The Brahmans have a custom,
When a girl child is born, her mother must prostrate herself before you Samael, and apologize for having bore the child.

Allow me to propose a new custom,
When a boy child is born, let the mother retire for seven days to the temple of Ki, there to weep for having brought another rapist into the world. Does that thought please you Samael? Do you feel terror in your belly that your precious replica would starve denied the mothers breast?

Worry not Samael, for it is our tragedy that we are too much like Ki. We long to know the passion she shares with AN. We long to bring life into this world, with a longing that surpasses all others. Even though I might be born seven times, to seven mothers, and never know a Son of AN, we never suspect looking into those bright wide eyes, our precious boy will be a monster when a man. No Samael it is our doom to be your co-conspirators, and bring forth those who will rape our daughters from our own wombs.

But how has it come to this Samael?
Do we ask so very much? We know you are lonely, for we are often lonely too.
Its not that we do not appreciate your attention, in truth it warms our bosom so, we long to share the Passion of An and Ki! with you.

We know not every woman you seek to touch will be your wife, we do not ask you to tear out your lust by its roots. Your lust is a precious part of you, for your lust tells you to reach for the divine in us. If I should dance for you tonight, smile for me, look me in the eye, Remember the woman before you is one of the infinite reflections of Ki. You can admire my bosom while I am dancing a few chairs away, I might even wink for you. Loneliness is a great curse in this moment in time. If you pay a woman for her time, and she lets you lay with her in that time, kiss her tenderly when the time is done.

Of course, most of all, we long to make a home with you, bare children with you, share silly simple private memories, these are worth more to us than any price of diamonds. All we ask is you love us freely, and with your whole heart. When your heart is whole Samael, when it is no longer divided by shame, then you can be reborn of Sophia, as worthy Son of AN.

Ama tu ANKI!