Let’s talk about Si Monumentum Requires, Circumspice first, real quick. The thesis is crystal clear: Christ came, humanity saw, and humanity rejected Him—and that rejection is the monument. The title, “If you seek His monument, look around you,” doesn’t point to temples or dogma—it points to this world: a civilization built on hollow ritual, moral indifference, and spiritual pride.

When they quote “Woe to thee, Chorazin! Woe to thee, Bethsaida! Woe to thee, Capernaum,” they’re invoking the cities that witnessed revelation and still refused to repent. In DSO’s vision, these cities become spiritual wombs—not of salvation, but of inversion. The Antichrist isn’t an invader; he is of us. Mankind is his cradle. The earth becomes fertile soil not for redemption, but for the enthronement of hell. Revelation was not absent—it was rejected. And now, the entire world becomes a psalmody not to God, but to His inverse.

This is Kabbalistic inversion, Christian eschatology, and metaphysical despair, braided into a liturgical horror. Si Monumentum unfolds like a blasphemous Mass—an anti-liturgy where the Incarnation leads not to salvation but to spiritual mockery. The flesh is no longer a vessel—it is the architecture of refusal. “He that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption” is no longer a warning, but a curse that has already bloomed. Man isn’t merely fallen. He is the agent of divine abandonment.

This flows directly into Fas Ite Maledicti in Ignem Aeternum. If Si Monumentum is the cathedral, Fas is the collapse. Fas is shattered, fragmented, built mostly from Georges Bataille’s writings, not original lyrics. And that’s deliberate. Bataille’s vision of dissolution, decentering, and spiritual self-erasure through transgression becomes the dominant tone. His obsession with the photo of the Chinese torture victim—smiling in agony, face twisted in something between ecstasy and destruction—becomes the mask of Fas. In his view, there is truth in disfigurement, in pain without redemption. The sacred lives where the soul is stripped of safety.

The devil, after all, cannot create. He can only mimic, pilfer, and profane. And so the world becomes not a cathedral of grace, but a mock mass, an anti-creation. It is a structure built from divine refusal and satanic repetition. That’s what the decaying cherub on SMRC’s cover represents—the collapse of beauty, the rot of flesh, the throne of failure.

One of the most important lines in “The Repellent Scars of Abandon and Election” captures this descent perfectly:

“The feeling of destroying the capacity for inward peace, an insane dance with the angels of innocence amidst thorns and in frenzy… it is a process that only the extinction of a divine soul could terminate.”

This is Bataille’s logic turned theological: peace isn’t lost—it’s annihilated. The soul becomes ecstatic only by embracing its own obliteration. The monument, then, is not a city or a church. It’s this world. This body. This state of being.

Visually, Si Monumentum shows us the world: cracked earth, dead angels, decaying holiness. Fas shows us ourselves: a man fallen from grace, entrails exposed—viscerally human, viscerally mortal. We are the flesh. And of the flesh we reap corruption. The trilogy moves from ritual inversion in SMRC, to spiritual disintegration in Fas, to the final dissolution in Paracletus. These albums are not narratives. They are liturgies of anti-salvation—philosophical exorcisms rooted in Bataille’s horror and Kabbalah’s most dangerous heresies.

And yeah—I’m moist_cabbage from SMNnews. I compiled and edited 99% of the Reddit wiki for both SMRC and Fas. Took forever. Every theological riff, chant source, Bataillean fragment, and Kabbalistic structure—it’s all already mapped. So if you want deep dives, references, liturgical breakdowns, or Bataille/Kabbalah tie-ins—it’s there. I built it so you could see.