The Extraordinary Communications of Sir Mason Goldbrick


The Extraordinary Communications of Sir Mason Goldbrick. As divulged to a former moderator on Freemasonry Watch’s forum.

“I am Ipsissimus”

I build with bricks of gold.

My apron is spotless. I hoard the great treasures and resources of this planet, because I am the chosen one. Self-chosen to be Ipsissimus.

I call darkness light, for selfishness is goodness in my eyes. Fools scramble to bow at my feet and fall in, rank and file, waiting for their turn to be blindfolded, deceived, abused and tested for my missions.

I beg them to accept every religion, old and new. For in the end, it is I they must accept as God. I tolerate no rival, especially the one called Jesus. For I am the God of Rage, of war and destruction. My number is 6 – meaning “hex” for that is how I enchant and lure the weak and bewildered.

I promise goodness, charity, and humanitarian aid to the poor. But I build with bricks of gold. My industry is one of war, merciless and full of boasting. If an enemy does not exist, I must create one – easy to conquer – so that I may be glorified and enriched with even greater wealth.

I am heir of the Great Pirates who once ruled the earth, keeper of the Reis maps, showing that the world is round. Does our ancient secret amaze you? We were the wise ones who set up puppet kingdoms, transporting goods from land to land. And warning men they would fall of the edge of the world if they strayed too far from us.

No one can ever see my face, knowing who I am. Your very soul is my property, for all men are as livestock in my eyes.

I am Ipsissimus. I build with bricks of gold.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick


My Knighthood

When the pirates of the 17th and 18th century began to influence the British monarchy, some of them were knighted and named “Sir.” This happened because they brought great plundered wealth into the kingdom and were instrumental in the process of colonization.

But in order to preserve their identities and true intentions, it was necessary to create a network of safe houses or lodges throughout the empire. New members were recruited into the external or “outer court” to convey a sense of prestige and powerful association to medieval crusaders. But the “inner court” always remained the realm of the pirates. Because they raised and destroyed kingdoms, they fancied themselves as “builders” or tektonik kraftsmen.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick

Who is Ipsissimus?

Why? I told you. It means Most High. Let me now tell you a bit more about myself: I appear to be around sixty years old but I am much, much, older. I am the first great person to be cryonically preserved. Not cloned. The American method of cryonic preservation is a total failure because it freezes dead people and hopes to revive them to life at a future time. But I was frozen while still alive. Do not be startled. It’s not what you think. My scientist guard has perfected the method invented for me during the Second World War. I was not frozen for years or decades. But my body temperature is lowered for only a few hours every day. In this way I can live indefinitely. Of course, only the wise will believe me.

I care not to disclose more.

I was born at the turn of the last century. I and my brothers were the first embryos to be born of artificial insemination. Our mothers were virgins. But because Victorian society would not tolerate such a groundbreaking experiment, it was required that our mothers be silenced for all time. Jack’s sons performed the ripper’s conspicuous act. Yes, it was the Order which gave me life and brought me to the highest rank of Ipsissimus. Lucifer, created above the angels. Since then, I have vowed to utterly destroy the Order, although I now lead it.

In the coming months and years I aim to shift the seat of world finance back to Europe, where it originally belongs. For the great wealth of America was given to it by the Royal families and aristocrats of Europe. But now we have tired of the American state of decadence and moral decline. And Brussels shall be the new centre of our future investments. Of course, Americans will object to all this. And we, in turn, will set them further on their wild goose chase for an illiterate Arab, in a cave with a can of baked beans.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick


Lucifer King of Babylon

But let me tell you this: I did not ask to be born of artificial insemination, and reared in masonic boarding schools all my early life. I loathed such authority, such wealth and taste, though I was deemed their chosen Horus child. Great men do bend their knee to me. Yet I hate myself, this world, and all that is in it.

My goal is annihilation of the self. So great is my contempt for the “worshipful masters” who made me the fruit of their secret God-experiment. I shall go to hell and be finally content at last. And many fools will follow, by my offer of pleasure and reward.

Let’s stop this repetitious nonsense about Lucifer being either Venus, Jupiter or another star!

Anyone versed in scripture knows that Lucifer, the son of morning, is a symbol of the king of Babylon (or Persia) who attacked Israel and carried off the ten lost tribes.

I am amazed at the uncouthness of some postings on this site by so-called masons. Do you not fear being chastised for your lack of understanding?

Lucifer, the sovereign of Persia and Babylon is now at your very door, destroying your mighty towers of wealth! But your eyes are half-closed by the glutton sleep of ignorance.

Jesus, I envy that person. For his fate or destiny is of utmost good luck. Mine is just the opposite. I am like the black billiard ball, destined to fall last into the pocket.

I have caused more death and suffering than any man in history. Do you laugh at me? Yet, despite this, Jesus is the only one who ever loved me. For his saying is: “If you do not forgive your enemies, neither will your Father forgive you.” Those who will not forgive me shall be trapped by the bitterness of their own hearts.

I know my fate. It is a dark dream I have experienced time and time again. When I breathe my last, I shall suddenly awaken to find my soul trapped in the flesh of Jesus on the cross. I will writhe in the pain of crucifixion, forever on the edge of time and space. For his saying is that “he condemned sin in his own flesh.”

There is no escape for me. For only Jesus leaves the tomb; only he walks out of hell. I will forever be trapped in the singularity of the suffering Christ. It is the eternal loop I can never escape. But I cannot feel love, not even to pity my own soul. It is the fuel of God’s universe: the soul which I do forfeit.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick


Greetings gentlemen and ladies, of course!

On this occasion, I would like to explain to you how I joined the Order.

As a matter of fact, I had no real choice in the matter. For, as I stated in a previous posting, I was the experimental Horus child, the first person to be born of artificial insemination. Since my mother was a virgin, I was destined to attain to the lofty position of Ipsissimus, created higher than common man.

I grew up in a strict Quaker household of considerable wealth. There were no doubts that I would one day enter the Order, when of proper age. On the contrary, my main concern during my adolescence was how to get out of it!

But after my first sexual encounter, with my mother’s maid, I discovered the hidden beast of pleasure within me. ‘Why not Ipsissimus?’ a voice inside me cried. And so, after completing my primary Latin studies, I turned to the macabre. Things grim and gruesome became my source of pleasure. I need not bore you with magical details here. Suffice it to say that I did not merely seek to worship the devil, I wanted to be that very person.

When the day of my initiation into the Order finally arrived, I pulled the administrating officer to the side and quietly asked: “Is it true that you allow all religions with your ranks?”

“Why, yes sir.” the fool answered.

“Very well then,” I replied. “I hold the religious belief of the dark sect.”

He smiled and whispered into my ear: “Supreme spirit! Your are mischievous and clever, a person of a special kind.”

Yes, all religions are allowed within the Order. And mine is certainly not to be discriminated against. That would not be fair, would it?

How odd however, that in the innermost courtyard of the temple, all members followed the very same dark path as mine. Oh! secret of secrets. We are not alone; excessive desire for food or wealth!

What’s called the Order is nothing more than a Lion’s Club in Detroit or a Rotary International of American businessmen.

But I dwell ‘neath the original Grand Master’s Castle. My hands caress its building blocks like an animal’s soft fur.

I sail with fleets along the shores of Malta, and am greeted by the local inhabitants. Jerusalem knows my shadow as I climb the mount of Olives.

I rule Persia with a clenched fist, yielding laundered dollar bills. Petrol is my weapon of choice. And what I have built in Babylon is the way to hell itself – a mighty rocket sled that staggers the imagination.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick


Let’s take a spirit-ride, on the highways of your imagination

Ride with Ipsissimus to the secret portico of signum. Car is black. Red interior. Times are out, in three minutes. Don’t mock, for the architect of hell-fire, in his living generation, has but a short time left on earth, according to his doctors. He has vowed to utterly destroy the Order that made an experiment of his birth. And it shall be done. The house is divided against itself.

The tone masons convey belongs to the old days; the golden days of Freemasonry. But the world has changed since the ruin of Manhattan. Now, the word to look for and remember is WATCH. What does it mean? Freemason Watch. Does it mean to shrink back in fear? You are watched. With every move. Megabytes of information. Your “secret” oath is no longer a closed valve, but an open instrument. Watched by the authorities, and stored under one name. They don’t like doing it. But they have to. Because the world has changed. Faster than you were able to assimilate or understand.

So buckle up. Let’s ride on the highways of your imagination. To see the handiwork of Ipsissimus, the architect of hell-fire. His inner portico is of pure marble, below the earth. Hidden stairways. Doors of brass. Gates of iron. Its walls are thick, solidly fixed. Inside is the throne of fire. What kind of fire is this? Hotter than the sun. Binary fission, fully awake. More than the body can bear. Pipelines push forward heavy water and gas. To moderate a neutron source for the cauldrons of hell. Impossible burning. The ruin of the soul. Because space-time is distorted, and an instant is stretched to eternity.

But on the streets above, the day unfolds as usual. People go about their work. Nothing noticed, not even a sound.

There is no inner portico. Not anymore. Only the action of looking and remembering.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick


I am a logician

I am a logician, not a magician. There is only one miracle to consider in the universe: The miracle of logic. Why should it exist? Why should there be laws of nature? Why should thesis and antithesis unite by synthesis? Because it is logically so. There is no magic involved. Jesus called himself “logos” meaning universal logic or reason, not a magical utterance. Jesus is God’s logic, his “reason” for existence.

As for the White House etc., I have met Stephen Hawking and have been trying to convince him to finish his formula for the collapsar weapon. What is the collapsar weapon? It is based on the next step after the neutron bomb. Also known as the nuclear black hole bomb (it sucks, it really does).

It collapses everything within a certain radius into a small invisible point so massive, it begins to sink into the earth.

Of course, such a weapon can only be used once (wisely). But Hawking is currently resisting Ipsissimus, refusing to comply.

Yes, I am a logician, determined to destroy the house of Luciferians, and their spiritual leader, the demon-king of Persia. It shall be done.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick


A Little Note

Please bear in mind that I have been undergoing cryonic preservation treatment for several years now, so I am much, much older than I appear to be. I understand it is very hard for you to believe it, but the first artificial insemination took place in 1875. It was the year Madame Blavatsky announced the “arrival” of the Horus child to the world, and founded her magic brothel society: Theos of Fist.

It was, indeed, the world’s tragedy.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick

The Secret Charter of the Order

After being initiated into the Order, I quickly rose to power and prominence. I dare say I was the darling of every lodge in my district. Pomp and arrogance became my trademarks. When the common brethren were told of my virgin birth and that I was the world’s first child of artificial insemination, they paid an almost amorous attention to me, seeking to win favour.

Because the Order allowed all religions, I immediately sought out other members of the dark sect. How could we be discriminated against? That would not be fair, would it? Needless to say, the followers of darkness were the most merciless ones; harsh and severe. Particularly in their practice of sex magic (today it is known as S & M). And they were, by no coincidence, seated at the very top of the masonic pyramid, at the inner court of the Order. The ordinary brethren of the outer court were always paragons of honour and honesty, for the sake of public relations and outward appearances. But in the portico within, wild indiscriminate sexual activity was a matter of course. Ornamental Degrees of Initiation were dispatched after every re-enactment of mythical rape or abduction. In this way, the natural guilt of lechery was lessened among the top members; their wild lust for sodomy was sanctified, with showy certification.

Oddly enough, the doors of darkness were always open to the lower initiates. But most of them would never dare enter. How could they? I actually think they refused to believe what was really occurring among their high superiors. “Are you ready to enter the portals of Lucifer, the demon-king of Persia?” we would often tease a novice or new convert. But most of them would merely shrink in fear and behave quite obsequiously.

I had no time for the foolish person of soft underbelly in those early days, for my god was my own belly. ‘Oh! where shall I rub my belly tonight?’ I would often lament. In time I discovered that it was blackmail, not honour, which kept the upper hierarchy tidy and in its right place. This intrigued me, to say the least, and I soon became adept at the art of extortion of payment in return for silence. Dealing with lawyers, judges, officers of the law, and even clergymen (especially clergymen!) became the source of my livelihood. It was sheer magic. What else could it be?

At last, I concentrated my studies on the actual structure of the inner portico. ‘Why is Lucifer the demon-prince of Persia?’ I often wondered to myself. Why not Apollo, a fairy king, or even the ground hog? After laboriously questioning my elders I was finally allowed to see the authentic charter of the Order. It was a plot, without question. Set down over five hundred years ago in the Egyptian and Arabic tongue, its purpose would unfold in two phases:

First, the crafty object was to infiltrate the West with distinct Persian influences and slowly erode the Judeo-Christian character of Europe and the Americas. It was a marvellous working. In the second phase, widespread devastation would occur. Major centres of commerce would be uprooted and destroyed. The West would be subdued, and finally conquered by the armies of Gog. And because the outer court of the Order would completely be occupied by blind sheep eager to hide the blemishes of their masters’ sins, no progress could possibly be made in the course of true justice.

I commended and praised the ancient authors of our secret charter. Yet, when I became fully aware of the rude jokes and witticisms that were circulating about my virgin birth, and my “loveless” conception, I resolved to take action.

As Ipsissimus, I would add one more phase to the sinister charter: I would knock the noxious fez caps off the heads of the elite masters. One by one, I would cast them into the pit that became known to the world as ground zero.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick


Greetings again, fellow seekers!

Shortly before the war, I was outraged to discover that an unauthorized book had been written about my secret sex life. It had a sudden and disturbing effect on my emotions. The culprit was George Sylvester Viereck, the publisher of a weekly paper I worked with during my days in New York, on Madison Avenue.

Perhaps I was too indulgent with Viereck, and he took the liberty of disclosing matters that were meant to be kept private. My first impelling urge was to have Viereck arrested, which I later did. But as it turned out, my highly sexed way of acting soon became quite popular; a craze and fad among the youth!

Viereck’s book described the most secret of all rituals ever conducted by Ipsissimus. Outsiders later termed it “an orgy.” But what did they know? The sacred ritual crypt was prepared for the occasion many days in advance. A muscular black man, stripped from the waist up, fanned a huge blade of peacock feathers, blowing gently on the alter of Ipsissimus. On the marble alter lay Salome, totally naked, waiting for my glorious entry.

Salome, I should point out, was my female counterpart. Having beheaded John the Baptist, she was deemed the fitting consort for Ipsissimus. The “Salome candidate” was carefully screened and selected from various female lodges such as the Order of the Eastern Star, or the Daughters of the Nile.

When at length, I entered the antiquated vault, the very earth trembled. I was clothed in a small piece of black leather towelling, with black leather shoulder straps and silver ringlets. If my outfit seems familiar to you now, don’t be deceived. It was not the clever idea of a Hollywood fashion designer. Not by a long shot. It was the original medieval executioner’s uniform of the militant Order of the Ghibbelines.

A whip and a goat-horn mask completed my splendid costume. Remember me? All knees bowed, and the persons elected to participate in the dark ritual uttered: “Hail Lucifer.” Who else could I be on such a grand occasion?

Yes, Lucifer and Salome are the eternal partners of the inner sanctum. The secret tradition has been observed since the days of the Knights Templar. When George Sylvester Viereck published our devoted secret in book form, we had no choice but to later punish his impudence by sending him to prison.

But in the decades which followed, I realized that I was being old-fashioned because the black leather costume of Lucifer became a standard prop for modern liberated swingers. Bondage, whips. Piercing and bleeding. My method of sexuality has now become a very normal way of having good, clean, adult fun. Yet little do those who follow the latest fashions know that this vivid tantric practise comes directly from the hidden crypts of York Rite Freemasonry!

– Sir Mason Goldbrick

The 9th Degree

Today, let’s discuss the 9th degree. What’s more tragic brethren, losing faith or losing money? Bullion, of course: the brick of gold or silver in bulk before coining, or valued by weight. Please fasten your safety aprons.

Street maker. Along the long and mighty roads I built, neon signs flash out their prophetic warning: “Save!” they announce with large letters. Save your souls? Of course not. Bullion. Save one cent. “$9.99” – how the Number of the Beast is shamelessly displayed with scorn at every point of sale!

Ah, my Ipsissimus days on Madison Avenue. My haiku poems for “Vanity Fair.” How those publishers and editors had no choice but to see things my way!

Street Maker. Heart Breaker.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick


Order now, Order new


As some of you will remember, I am Sir Mason Goldbrick, the first human born of artificial insemination. Being the illegitimate son of the ruthless Ottoman Madhi, who impersonated a disgraced Earl before the First World War, I hold the office of Ipsissimus by inheritance. My real name, from my dark baptismal, is TSIRK SUSEEJ which is Jesus Christ backwards. I am the anti-messiah, the Jerk Saw Siege. OTO is my secret space, of paper and ink. Today occult Masonic lodges are declining in power, hanging, sliding down. And rightly so. Because one hall is a spy against the other. They gather many books, trace new authors, and discuss how disagreeable the political involvements of other halls might be.

Ottoman holy men have recently come forward as terrorists. Sufi brotherhoods, east and west, are under careful watch. And now Ipsissimus fulfils his high duty and delivers what you have already come to expect of him: An Offer You Can’t Refuse. The major new rumour of the financial markets is this: “The Euro will rise, the Dollar will fall.” Would you care to invest in the notion? If so, our stock market outlets will guarantee you the highest returns. We also guarantee you that we will never trouble you with the boring details of how our excess of returns over outlay takes place. Think about it. “The Euro will rise, the Dollar will fall.” If you invest in our fun, new rumour proposal, we promise you the greatest advantages and benefits. Be not concerned that our glossy corporations, commonly believed to be American companies, are actually multinational firms. We can cover you and ourselves with insurance, anywhere in the world.

Ipsissimus extends this limited offer to all who are able to receive it. For those of you who can’t read fine print, our financial outlets are, well, colour coded. Just look for the gentlemen dressed as the Jerk Saw Sage. We will be wearing red fez caps and Ottoman turbans, but will make it perfectly clear to you that we are ordinary Westerners. Cowboys with a great admiration for the crescent sword and the morning star of Lucifer. Some of us will even go to church, bed or jail with you to prove it. As every educated Muslim will point out to you, we are the perverters of Islam. False avatars. But of course, you knew we were only pretending. Putting your kids in expensive hospitals. Holding parades, and having good fun. With you. Smile and wink. Read confounding books of perplexity. Remark on how we know not what we do. But don’t wait for every one else to get rich while you drag your feet. Be first to order our fun, new rumour for the world.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick


The Masonic Black mass

George Villiers, 1st Duke of Buckingham (1592 – 1628) tried to steal my masonic name.

In the black mass Jesus Christ pronounced backwards is Tsirk Susej. An archaic name of the English language from an earlier period of culture, uttered only in the liturgy of contempt. Both of those words entered the English language as late as the 1600’s (origin unknown).

What does “Bucking ham” mean? Jumping meat! What does it imply about the true religious nature of the British monarchy? Dark sect? Percolated in unnecessary masonic language.

Tsirk Susej: Warmest, next to man, on a witch’s sabbath.

– Sir Mason Goldbrick


My true name

As some of you might have uncovered, Ipsissimus is the 7th Degree Magus in the Order of the SS.

Other titles I hold (which you will no doubt foolishly question the validity of) are:

Excellent Master Mason,

Secret Master

Royal Master

Intimate Secretary

Provost and Judge

Intendant of the Building

Elect of Nine

Elect of Fifteen

Sublime Knight Elected

Grand Master Architect

Ancient Master of the Royal Arch

Grand Elect Perfect and Sublime Mason

Knight of the Temple

Prince of Jerusalem

Knight of the East and West

Knight Rose Croix of Heredom

Grand Pontiff

Master ad Vitam

Patriarch Noachite

Prince of Libanus

Chief of the Tabernacle

Prince of the Tabernacle, Knight of the Brazen Serpent

Prince of Mercy

Commander of the Temple

Knight of the Sun

Knight of Saint Andrew

Grand Elect Knight Kadosh

Grand Inspector Inquisitor Commander

Prince of the Royal Secret

Most Puissant Sovereign Grand Inspector General of the 33rd and Last Degree.

The reason I was bestowed such a vast array of magnanimous ranks is because I was the first person to ever be conceived of artificial insemination. My virgin birth was a secret experiment of the Order. When I was old enough to be told details of the medical procedure, I was shocked and outraged. I secretly vowed to destroy the Order that had used my living spirit as its guinea pig.

To add insult to injury, I was given the most despicable name in the Baphomet rite of my elect baptism. It was agreed upon by my senior guardians that I should bear the name of antichrist in the fullest sense, according to the black mass. Raging thirst! I will utterly destroy, divide the house of Lucifer.

–       Sir Mason Goldbrick (JSS)


The House of Luciferians

I intend to uproot the house of Luciferians and their secret halls of magic. I was born of a virgin by artificial insemination and given the most unholy name in English!

Yes, I am Ipsissimus.

They hang on my every word! The White House, the European Union, world leaders seek my advice….

But mine is an abused childhood. My true aim is to utterly trample upon the ignoble art of magic, like a crumpled flatworm. It shall bruise my heel.

Getting even. Flatter.

~ The Jerk Saw Seige ~

Sir Mason Goldbrick

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