Histoire de la magie, (1871) Jean Baptiste Pitois // De Misteriis Aegyptiorum, Iamblichus (c. A.D. 250-325)
This post is, in a sense, a follow-up to the previous post published (16)17 january 2010. That post contained the poetry of Daniel Drumm, a guest blogger. To read Daniel's poetry simply scroll down to the previous blog entry. The two posts are on completely different subjects, hence I broke them into two distinct posts as well as keeping the previous entry from becoming too unwieldy. This entry is strictly concerned with The Synthesis of Mysticism, The Path of Totality and a presentation of the Attributes of the Major Arcana. The Avatars, the first five cards of the Major Arcana, have already been published in a post entry dated 27 october 2009. The Attributes are four in number and are so-called in The Path of Totality precisely because they function in an attribuable manner. It is important to remember that the Tarot is not a fortunetelling device, is not a window onto the future and predicts nothing. The Tarot is a guide for one's own realization and insight into how one is affecting one's destiny and is blocking or aiding the forces and energies that may be used to good purpose. All forces and energies can be turned to good usage, but it requires right-thinking and right-action. The same forces can wreak havoc if left unattended, unused, ignored or manipulated by the ego. With that in mind, the short following review is given and then the presentation of the Attributes.
The Synthesis of Mysticism
Human Will, illuminated by Science and manifested by Action, creates the Realization of a power that is used or abused according to good or bad Inspiration in the circle traced out by the laws of universal order.
After overcoming the Trial that is imposed by divine Wisdom, Will comes, by means of its Victory, into possession of the work that it created and establishing its Equilibrium on the axis of Prudence, dominates the oscillations of Fortune.
The Strength of man, sanctified by Sacrifice that is the voluntary offer of itself on the altar of devotion and expiation, triumphs over Death and its divine Transformation elevates it, beyond the tomb, to the serene regions of infinite progression opposing the reality of an immortal Initiative to the eternal lie of Fatality.
The course of time is measured by means of the ruins but, beyond every Ruin, the dawn of Hope can be seen reappearing in the twilight of Disillusionments. Man incessantly aspires to what escapes him and the sun of Happiness only rises for him after the Renewal of his being through death that opens up a higher sphere of will, intelligence and action to him.
Every will that allows itself to be governed by bodily instincts is an abdication of freedom and condemns itself to Expiation of its mistake or blame. In apposition, every will that joins God in order to manifest truth and operate justice enters, right from this life, into participation with the divine power over beings and things: the eternal Recompense of freed spirits.
Grand Hierophant/ The Path of Totality ©2009
Points from The Path of Totality:
1) This is not a faith of force but of spiritual Illumination, not as in Freemasonry or the Illuminati movement, but rather individual striving towards personal transformation and realization.
2) It is a faith of dedication to the belief that with serious effort, dedication and ruthless self-honesty anyone can attain transformation from this level of being to a better, higher plane of existence, knowledge and action. The Synthesis of Mysticism is central to the faith, although it will need to be broken down and worked out in simpler terms for step-by-step progression.
3) Symbology is central to The Path of Totality, oriented around ancient truths and universal imagery.
Grand Hierophant/ The Path of Totality ©2009
The ATTRIBUTES from the Major Arcana of the Tarot.
VI – The Lovers
The Two Roads, The Trial
Letter Ur – U, V – Number 6
U, V = 6 and expresses the Science of good and Evil in the Divine World. In the Intellectual World It is the balance between Necessity and Liberty. In the Physical World it is the antagonism of natural forces and the chaining of effects to causes.
Arcanum VI is represented by a man standing immobile on the corner formed by the junction of two roads. His eyes are fixed on the ground, and his arms crossed over his chest. Two women, one to his right and the other to his left, place one of their hands on his shoulders, showing him the two roads. The woman on the right has her brow bound with a golden circle and personifies Virtue. The one on the left is crowned with vine shoots and represents the tempter Vice. Above this group the Genius of Justice, gliding in a dazzling halo, tightens his bow and directs the arrow of chastisement towards Vice. The whole of this scene expresses the struggle between passions and conscience.
Remember that for common men the attractions of Vice are more prestigious than the austere beauty of Virtue. Take care in selecting your solutions. Obstacles in front of you block the road for which you are looking; opposing probabilities glide around your head and your will vacillates between opposing parties. In all cases, indecision is more disastrous than a bad choice. Go forward or retreat, but remember that a chain of flowers is more difficult to break than a chain of iron.
VII – The Chariot
Osiris’ Chariot – Victory
Letter Zain (Z) - Number 7
Z = 7 and expresses the Septenarius, the domination of the Spirit over Nature, in the Divine World. In the Intellectual World, it is the Priesthood and the Empire. In the Physical World it is the submission of the Elements and the Forces of Matter to Intelligence and to the Work of Man.
Arcanum VII is portrayed by the square-shaped war chariot, surmounted by a starry baldachin sustained by four columns. An armored victor advances in this chariot, holding a scepter and a sword in his hands. He is crowned with a gold circlet ornamented with three pentagrams, or five-pointed stars. The square chariot symbolizes the completed Opera of the Will that vanquishes obstacles. The four columns of the starry baldachin represent the Four Elements subject to the Master of the Scepter and of the Sword. On the square front of the chariot a sphere sustained by two unfurled wings is painted: a sign of the boundless exaltation of human power in the infinity of space and time.
The golden crown on the victor’s brow signifies possession of the intellectual light that illuminates all the Arcana of Fortune. The three stars that ornament it symbolize Power balanced with Intelligence and Wisdom. Three squares are traced on his armor signifying the rectitude of Will, Justice and Action, donated by the Strength that the chariot symbolizes.
The upturned sword is the sign of victory. The scepter is surmounted by a triangle, symbol of the Spirit, by a square, symbol of Matter, and by a circle, symbol of Eternity. It signifies the perpetual dominion of Intelligence over the forces of Nature. Two sphinxes, one white and the other black, draw the chariot. The white one symbolizes Good, the black Evil: the one conqueror and the other conquered; both have become the handmaids of the Magician who triumphed in the trials.
Remember that the empire of the world belongs to those who possess sovereignty of spirit that is the light that illuminates the mysteries of life. Smashing obstacles you will overcome your enemies, and your desires will be realized if you confront the future with daring armed by the awareness of your right.
VIII – Justice
The Scales and the Sword – Equilibrium
Letter Héletha (H) – Number 8
H = 8 and expresses absolute Justice in the Divine World. In the Intellectual World it is Attraction and Repulsion. In the Physical World it is relative, fallible Justice that emanates from men.
Arcanum VIII is portrayed by a woman seated on a throne, whose brow is encircled by a crown decorated with sword points. In her right hand she is holding a sword turned upwards, and in her left some scales. She is Themis, the ancient symbol of Justice who weighs actions and, as a counterweight, opposes the sword of Expiation to evil. Justice that emanates from God is the balanced reaction that rebuilds order that is the equilibrium between right and duty. The sword here is a sign of protection for the good, and a threat for the evil. The eyes of Justice are bandaged to point out how she weighs and strikes without taking the conventional differences that men establish among themselves into consideration.
Remember that to reproduce victory and dominate the obstacles already overcome is just a part of man’s task. To achieve it completely it is necessary to establish equilibrium between the forces that are brought into play. Every action produces a reaction and Will must foresee the clash between opposing Forces, in order to temper and annul them. Every future act is balanced between Good and Evil. Every intelligence that does not know how to balance itself resembles an aborted sun.
IX – The Hermit
The Veiled Lamp – Prudence
Letter Thela (TH) – Number 9
Th = 9 and expresses absolute Wisdom in the Divine World. In the Intellectual World it is Prudence, ruler of Will. In the Physical World it is Caution, guide to Actions.
Arcanum IX is depicted by an old man leaning on his stick as he walks, carrying before him a lit lamp that he hides under his cloak. This old man personifies the experience acquired during one’s life’s work. The lit lamp signifies the light of intelligence that must be spread over the past, the present and the future. The cloak half-hiding the lamp signifies discretion. The stick symbolizes the support that Prudence gives the man who does not free his own thought at all.
Remember that Prudence is the wise man’s armor. Caution enables him to avoid rocky coasts and precipices, and have a presentiment of treachery. Take it as your guide in all actions, even in the smallest. Here below nothing is indifferent; a pebble can overturn the chariot of a Master of the World. Remember that if words are silver, silence is golden.
And now to conclude, a brief entry taken from The Egyptian Book of the Dead: The Book of Going Forth by Day.
Chapter 86
Chapter for being transformed into a swallow
I am a swallow, I am a swallow, I am that Scorpion-goddess, the daughter of Re. O you gods, may your savor be sweet; a flame has gone up from the horizon. O you who are in the city, I have brought him who guards his coils; give me your hands, for I have spent the day in the Island of Fire, I have gone on an errand and I have returned with a report. Open to me; then I will tell what I have seen. Horus is in command of the Sacred Bark, and the throne of his father Osiris has been given to him, while that Seth the son of Nut is in bonds because of what he has done. What is in Letopolis has been allotted to me, and I have made obeisance to Osiris. I have gone to make inspection and I have returned to speak; let me pass, that I may report on my errand. I am one who goes in esteemed and who goes out distinguished at the portal of the Lord of All; I am pure on that great tomb-plateau, for I have got rid of my evil, I have discarded my wrongdoing, I have cast to the ground the ills which were on my flesh. O you keepers of the gate, make a way for me, for I am one like you. I go out into the day, I walk on my feet, I have power in my strides. O You of the sunshine, I know the secret ways of the portals of the Field of Rushes. See, I have come, having felled my enemies to the ground, and my corpse is buried.
As for him who knows this chapter, he shall go out into the day, and he shall not be turned away at any portal in the realm of the dead, and he shall assume the shape of a swallow. A matter a million times true.
Please do not forget to take the poll at the bottom of the blog (just hit the End key and you will be whisked to approximately the appropriate section.
From here in the DHOSF, until the next,
Leducdor
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
"We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, ..."
" . . . and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age." H.P. Lovecraft (1890-1937)
A very long time ago, perhaps even the first post of this blog, I mentioned having "guest" bloggers. I have had the occasional contribution here and there (duly noted) from readers and friends but up until now there has not really been a guest blogger. That is going to change as of this entry. A large part of this entry will be given over to the writings of Daniel Drumm. Daniel is a friend of long date and we have recently reconnected after thirty or so years of being out of touch with each other. In this blog entry I am (with his permission) giving space to his poetry as well as a brief excerpt and hyperlink to a nonfiction work published on Scribd, The Light of Life (http://www.scribd.com/doc/8883353/The-Light-of-Life). I enjoy his writing very much and hope that you do as well. I encourage you to visit the Scribd piece to read in what other fields Daniel thinks and writes. Daniel is also available on MySpace and Facebook ( http://www.myspace.com/daniel_drumm and Facebook/ Daniel Drumm). The photographs and illustrations published here along side of Daniel's work are in no way the responsibilty of Daniel Drumm, they are my additions and their use my decision.
If karma were simplistic (which it is not) and if reincarnation is true (insert your own answer), then lead a good life and pray that you do not come back to work anything out in the five following countries: Haiti, Indonesia, the Philippines, North Korea or Myanmar. There are others, of course, but those five top the list. I decided to abandon my roll call of the world's disaster and political follies for this entry simply because recently it has been overwhelming. I become exhausted from keeping abreast of the constant flow of news, banalities and sometimes breathtaking outrageousness. With our ADSL television line, I have I-do-not-know-how-many twenty-four hour news channels, in myriad languages, All of them trumpet and drum roll the ongoing lists of disasters, political propinquities and nature's armegeddon with a sense of the blasé so profound that their numbness transmits itself across the line to the viewer. My roll call will undoubtedly return, but not this time. First I shall post Daniel, guest blogger, and then in a fast following post I shall give the next set of Major Arcana, the Attributes. The first set, the Avatars, has already been given in a previous post. I shall also recall a few points on The Path of Totality and the Synthesis of Mysticism. That post will finish with another excerpt from The Egyptian Book of the Dead: The Book of Going Forth by Day.
Daniel Drumm
Continuing
"What did you want? Even a name recalled here
Continues, rises before you, filling the heart,
Emptying..." And the heart hearing descends to an image:
A long strip of sand and washing water. I walk
Upright, aware of breathing, the moment's clarity
And surface, the blinding light...I am any
One, a wheel turning another time. It ends
As it begins- a wind barely touching percepts,
Presence passing hand to fitful hand, a dream
Language of opening, entering
The sleep of things. This hour we meet.
Still moments in a garden of voices.
The small bodies of birds weave
Above the ocean, spark, twist, crisscross
Kiss, till I wonder what it feels to be
So light in the intimate pull and pushing breezes
Streaming, falling, beautiful dark wings
With no hard sleep of thought remembering
Sleep, or waking once more in another air.
Ever filling. Ever emptying.
Living silence somehow afraid of the quiet
I spoke not speaking, newly wakened
In a dream of nouns, carefully unfolding a clench
Of rose, for a heart ever opened.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
How private this
as every tryst
with form:
a space quiet fills.
Spectral shape
for holding
the stirring
movements, urgings
some primal desire
of stone aliving
in the unreal
slow twilit minute
of parks and weddings...
Turning, turning to
the physical the mute
understanding of curve
stone gives beneath
the curving hand.
Here
in the dreaming living
where meeting, met
no longer hear, miracle stirs...
Change moves and removes
love regains and remains.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
LUCIFER:
Bitter is the daybreak. But bitter still
The thought that God's grand vision bore no fault.
And where's each placed? No matter... all are brought.
Man-kine even, God's cattle. Clay and froth!
Non Servium! was my great call, and round
Bright wings bore dark into the dream of Mine.
Fire gave birth, new light, and thus enwrapt
Did we descend to rule... mere sands, wind-tossed.
All fell, all fell into a dream of self
And would not serve... to serve this heavy hell.
Bright winds deep-fixed and burning, body-caught,
While the circle of their souls still fall and call.
MICHAEL:
Morning answers Peace, and new beginning.
And you... are held within a love so true
That knowledge of the hope and truth you are
Seem bars, and are, to freedom made of fear
(unfinished)
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Coming In
Soon this wind will turn
the season almost saying
night and day with it.
Mechanics in relation
numb the hands.
Numbers follow nothing
blown like crowds
around a design.
Words turn in the mood
and change as memory
or the moon change.
In the bright city white
daylight drifts.
Open, uncertain
I call your name
between love and this
ebb.
Like summer coming in
the screen on a summer's evening
the wind carries a voice
fertile with reasons.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Message to Edna
What lips my own have kissed, or where or why
I've forgotten. As well what arms have lain
Across my chest till morning. But the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, who tap and sigh
Upon the glass, disconsolate, untied.
Here in my heart a strangely widening pain
Loosens, cries... how incomplete all gestures,
All remains, if love wears any lesser name.
Thus at midnight the clock grows loud. Save
That tree outside that naked reaches to
The wintry sky, no image reaches me.
The rain pours down. The ghosts relent. Now I
Who nameless wait till daylight bury grief
Know summer is a wing, and spring, a leaf.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
(This is a rewrite of sonnet #43 by Edna St Vincent Millay...
I felt she was being inauthentic. I wanted to write what shallowness
in relationships would really look like when fruited. Below is her poem:)
(What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.)
"Selfless as melting ice" (Lao Tzu)
knows
it isn't water
that you unbecome.
Letting go
all you don't really know
the frozen flows.....
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Meditation
Under will the stars whiten. The void creaks.
Beneath all your effort lie loss and remorse
like a razor under fabric, gleaming through a cut
like the scraping whispers in the blankness
your onliness searches. Fear fingering
undoing the braid of relation.
Pivoting
you reach from your poverty these pilings.
The wind shambles meanings you gather
hope on hope to this, just this, please this
little box of lostness, psyche deep
feeding on the world. Tiny voice
repeating all the reasons to itself.
Until at last the ground reveals
the smallness of all dream
the duality of all bravura
and in the baldness of the moment
you realize, simply, you do not feel.
And you feel. Your eyes breathe.
The muscles of persona unclench.
You contact once again the world of detail
your self in touch. You heart, at begin,
know open as no recoil. And you feel.
Later you will think. Later still, know...
fear has no size but unliving.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Dancing years
Around the wood the seasons burn and blow.
A sweet smoke flowers and like a song winds
sleepily upwards in your soft brown eyes.
While you dreamt drinking all most magically
the sea rose sounding suddenly your name...
in the strong sea light, bubbles and strange thunders.
By the edges of your growing life huge beasts
stand perplexed at the forest's long silence.
Far off in the distance a silver flute
begins an ancient music filled with Light.
Moving to the meaning the twining dancer
turns to turn the sea to foaming spray
flowering the cup you raise to your lips.
The dreamer murmuring magic syllables
wakes the four winds as memory the child
walks unafraid into your quiet eyes.
19 Sept 74
15 Feb 98
24 May 09
22 Aug 09
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Dancer
"Oh Arunachala! Thou art the Inner Self
who dancest in the hearts as 'I'" - Ramana Maharshi
You feel no change within
love dreams light waking worlds
Clear motion turns to lead
Dawn dances still to the foot
hills descend ascending
Act or the road winds through
the dream machine as life
the sword made song of You
I the dreamt ocean dark
am the bright wheeling sparks
hear the source in the hearts
still lands beyond the rains
Dance! Dancer dance the skies
silvering ends lifeward
Dream draw the long strands of
poverty grass in diamond
The moment sunset dyes
The mountain core alights
The sky wills open the road
sword close the life goes on
the star turns lead to now
you hold love light spills through
the worlds assent to be
you see from all you are
The Dancer dancing ends
to end dreams to life loves
to dance each stage as time
begins to play
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
(Yeats once spoke of a myth he had heard. A man drawing near to the Tree of Life heard the most beautiful music coming from it. But when he got close he found it was made by the continual clashing of swords.
Arunachala is the hill/mountain that Ramana Maharshi lived at the foot of his whole adult life. Local legend said that it was Mt Meru, the center of the World, and that a pillar of Light ran through it.
The word Aruna/ Chala is literally Red Mount. It is taken to mean the Heart. It was in this sense that Ramana called it the Inner Self, the seat of the real I, the spark of the Oversoul as Emerson called God.)
The Death of a Ladies Man
for Leonard Cohen
She follows you talking
fluorescent mirrors
angelic ceramic urinals
the rattling night train
a story of women you...
hours of rain.
How you trashed your heart
trashed the sameness of the poet
to thee, for an autograph
in the throat.
The Conversation pounds
the shore. A million dust motes
lift then settle, lift and settle.
Others die differently, and live on
the same beauty, weak-fingered,
unable to fend off their wife.
Some love you not
magic's nervous pajamas.
Why all this spitting, raving,
punish my beauty, my in
side? Just so no one catch
you flailing at love?
"It's all done with mirrors."
No... never One at all.
The woman lifts the jar, singing.
Return.
Not to the fathers
no strenuous meaning
not to the sound of your own fear godding...
but to the heart you always forget.
Feel, the woman is feeling
not ritual, the many gloves
of fear, but this hand here
reaching. Lilith gibbers
in the mirror, scooping flesh
from your out side.
She stares and says, "I feed you
the broken dish, adolescence...."
Feel, the woman is forming.
Under sex she turns to clay,
not wind, not the living breath
of your returning being, knitness.
Clay.
You carve, it stays. It stares
and says, "Now that we are modeled,
Need you ... I don't need you.
Need you ... I don't need you."
The clay of the eye
cannot reflect what is.
Make no name
for yourself.
If the world were not spun
but held ever in love
you are where you rest.
You are not alone, but present.
When you don't make love
you make idols and heat.
Your Gods are so much
smaller than your sanity.
Require no firstborn.
She lifts, singing, the original man.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
12-19-08
3-21-09
4-14-09
In Your Arms
If the world were not spun but held
ever in love you are where you rest
The soul's voices whitely cover your eyes
Leaning plants within their angle close and open
The mountain centers nothing beyond your gaze
remembering perfectly no other time
In your prayer's need love grows tired
like hands raised from winter rags
And every word changes in love's zero
from action to just news about its progress
Before this began, while you continued
the wind the long sidewalks followed in turn
that night in your making still deeper in none
Love's entrance answers to radiant calm
apart from you none make sense
Hold to nothing in your way in love
Under will the stars whiten, the void whispers
"New loss and emptiness follow going further"
Then you reach from your poverty and shambles
where the wind moves senseless in small circles
losing all you call your world...
seven broken landscapes ring the Light
Your sex changes you divine the machine's parts
and the seasons' relations hidden in the life as death
spins a complicated pattern in the ragged trees
Night stills each embering desire with depth
of perfect surrounding perfectly empty
Somewhere in love making equal to none
the woman of your understanding lies down
to be near your calm center of breathings
by morning the sun wakes in your arms
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
A moth flutters past
my eyelid. A moment... then
the wind from his wings.
No army. But the
abstract tension of motions
as the line crumbles.
Mid-winter gutters.
Forgetting to be
How you starve after something.
Stilling the thinking.
Water drips in the forest
Depths. Plip. Plip. Plip. Plip.
(rewritten from a Japanese haiku)
Impossible weight
and frustration. Outside, green
and yellow blowing.
Black and white. Movement.
A silent conversation
in shell, shale and wood.
Winter. In a car
a tape plays a woman's voice.
Trees wrapt in silence.
Shadow of a moth
outside the window
flutters weightless on my arm.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
The Laughing Man
with thanks to J D Salinger
How much was revealed by
the sound of his laughter the tissue torn
or known for that matter he stood behind
His face gave back the memory of pain
as calm eyes stared through the poppy
or dropped one by one slowly to sleep
What of his parents convictions his captors
his lonely childhood suffering at the hands
of men silent wanderings and what could be
discovered in his scars his loves his dental X-rays
in yellowed photos in clothes in words
or shaken loose from shattering contact with air
anti-matter strands of hair spittle tears
clippings from some reflective period spots
of blood molecular particles all great
criminals leave in the wake of the physical
relics worshippers detail their mythology with
some small perfectly knowable part of one
life infused with the violence of gods
whose life like nightmares terrifies
shuddering at the implications of the possible
disintegrations at the speed of light
assumptions violent as the
II
Love how little feels the loss as light
transforms the cross the years bend by
stars by pentagrams by pyramids
dark centers of the ocean and night falling
by magic mathematics Merlin
dissolves the coagulate sound separates
the cord by webs of weddings in the final
forest play patchwork white by burnt leaf
by now arranged in hair and bosom to please
the dying many-colored westward sin
Lavender is the color of a dying animal
sunset evokes the living fathers sons
fall like shipwrecked crosses
turn to light bones seagulls all that
remains as white invisible rainbow
burns through the clouds the aeons absorb
the rain-dreamt circle some ancient
symbol of love's dream of light
III
How private this as every tryst
with forms a space quiet fills
spectral shape for holding
stirring movements urgings
some primal desire of stone aliving
in the unreal, slow twilit minute
of parks and weddings...turning
turning from the physical the mute
understanding of curve stone
gives beneath the curving hand
and if this full minute in the grey
meeting no longer hears the homeward
call time but denies the proffered
miracle as love regains release
IV
From the symbol comes the night, mere turnings
as the day dreams on the distance between
roses feel absence as the white breath of spaces
and the face the rising reflection all mirror
mercury tinted remembrance of objects loved
imagines all before to be returning
for the loss irrevocable motionless violence
the remembered ash of some sharp glance
some suspended act of love recalled in secret
The guiltless lovers promise their bodies
to convents to converts to Christmas
Saints celebrate a comic book
perfection perform the ritual necessary
evils stain the calendar's pure number
with a subtle and undying love
What heroes these with spider webs of reason
what rings powers lanterns sinews bulging
from sere yellowed pages in blue black relief and all that could be understood of God
behind the necessary mask
Black Wing is dead
The ancient dwarf covers the truth and weeps
Vagrant winds blow meaning past the streetlamp
How many left the well-lit the familiar
home that night with vows of pure devotion
dedicated to the private landscape the crack
in everything created by love's offering
Daniel Drumm (c)2009
One and One is Apple
When one (contours of silence) with one climb together
in climb and gather silence gather the two
gather such fruit as gift might each to each
two eat in the dreamt leaf shade, in pregnant jest
pull the fleshy pulp apart, tear it from the seed
devour it slowly who savour the bite beneath
the tree (as symbol is the negative space of mind
and time defines with nothingness) till adam come
(we were not first to do this who were as gods)
with knowing grin to tell us of this new loneliness.
Then more than gods (gods are but relief
from our aloneness) we bring this newborn knowledge
to the separate bed, garnering silences like glassy fruit
in a shallow bowl sequestered by the light
apart from the fleshy dream, like symbol, who
climb to this hard thought among the branches
define it with our hand, knowing like adam, we
tempt the fell fruit in mind, tear it from the tree
tear self from self, devour the two
in jest join darkness and desire, then depart.
Until no longer knowing (we took three steps from this-
the last in turning showed us all) as all were gifts
and Now for rosy-headed children, the flora real,
the darkness merely dark, each symbol lost like time
(the space that lies between us) and adam gone
for all his bitter humor of one and one is apple, and alone
still something sweet to stay alive stayed with us-
always one found one and gathered two
as two become in silence, each to each
promises until we're broken.
Daniel Drumm ©1972
The Heart's Full
The heart's full
and each man flowers.
Life in love is
each man's holy lie
as time a liar makes us all.
With numbing stroke
stills the murmuring mouth
and bleeds the captured
smell of permanence.
Let heart tick fraud
and each man's empty
Vase enamel blooms
for each loves close.
And still the acid etch
of tear on clay
that mouth this numbing
truth: time parts
and the images
love holds break away.
10 March 72 (final sentence
8 September 79)
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Childhood's End
Where the children gather
the land opens to the rain
A heartbeat draws them they
come together by the rocks
Men drop to the flowers there
masses the Holy Ghost
As the air opens to touch
the children reach by One
into the rocks then blood
and out flow on ever
As never points in time
to the new direction, Man
held and released as Love
intends no clearer change
fulfilling wherever
first coalescing holy
numbers of the long flowers
open into the rocks -
vessels of the breathing sky
hold their fragrance to the time
As the wind is close and long
the children come often
pressing on one by one
awake to the strange touch
of dream as to going
Where the land opens to the sky
there the rain falls counting
children of the new wine
and reaching to the ground
lifts a clear chalice
Daniel Drumm ©
Before beginning grew in thee my love
grew gradually light in light, deep motions
tore sense from night, the circle then
called two all the ocean, now here
dawns clearly, love, truth, morning...
Before beginning grew in thee my love
grew gradually light in light, deep motions
tore sense from night, the circle then
called two all the ocean, now here
dawn redly the window mornings...
Daniel Drumm ©
Easter 1974
So many years with nothing
I've learnt to keep my distance
A good long step from loving
In time I learned to dance
Without touching my partner.
Protecting a weary pride
Of wants... still this perfect heart
Never kissed the new bride.
If angels sang I gave no
Second thought to life measures.
Love sought itself in rings of
Dreams of buried pleasure.
Now I kneel me down to dust.
Prayer is dying, knowing you
Don't know love, but a moment's gust.
Dying kills a taste for husks.
And Jesus gave no reason
Dancing years upon the cross
But kissed each tender season
And death was not its cost.
Forever is a long time
Loving seek no distant dream.
Angels don't sing lullabyes
To wake what death has seemed
Life is no real distance from
Objects of its calm, widening touch.
And I will meet him as I am
When I lay down to dust.
Dan Drumm (c) 2009
The Jesus Freed
1 Cor 15:47
You ask me very nicely what I'm reading
As if you'd like to hear what I might know.
You listen to my words, you nod and answer,
"The Lord is such and such and so and so."
The words are dead and blank as if you'd stamped them
On forehead, hand and heart some time ago.
"No one can buy or sell the Truth without him."
"No questions if there's just One Way to go."
A heart won't lift to heart's perfecting if a
mind can't ask, can't knock, can't seek to know.
What Jesus freed is still bound despite salvation:
The Lord from heaven from the man you show.
Daniel Drumm ©
The following is an excerpt from The Light of Life:
Preface
Christianity no longer really has a way to establish grounds for knowledge that derives from the divine, that includes what we call objective knowledge. Not that works psychologically and philosophically, and can stand side by side with science. As a result many churches have become faith or feeling based, filled with hope, love and belief, but not knowledge. Few Christians would consider religion an equal with science in obtaining knowledge or facts, despite their disagreement with science’s interpretation of them. Western religion has lost its philosophical and noetic roots in our culture. Yet with religion that hasn’t divorced insight from practice such as Yoga, Vedanta or Buddhism it is an odd fact that western science itself, and physics in particular, has opened a dialogue to compare its knowledge and thinks it may even have something to learn- from men who merely sit in meditation. Scientists like Bohm and Sheldrake have even incorporated elements from these knowledge based religions’ explanations of reality into their theories....
Daniel Drumm ©2007
Thank you, Daniel. On to other things: I am going to reprint The Synthesis of Mysticism, as well as a few points from The Path of Totality in a shortly-to-be-posted additional blog entry devoted soley, and briefly, to these and a presentation of the Attributes from the Major Arcana. The posting shall end with the excerpt from The Egyptian Book of the Dead.
From here in the DHOSF, until the next,
Leducdor
A very long time ago, perhaps even the first post of this blog, I mentioned having "guest" bloggers. I have had the occasional contribution here and there (duly noted) from readers and friends but up until now there has not really been a guest blogger. That is going to change as of this entry. A large part of this entry will be given over to the writings of Daniel Drumm. Daniel is a friend of long date and we have recently reconnected after thirty or so years of being out of touch with each other. In this blog entry I am (with his permission) giving space to his poetry as well as a brief excerpt and hyperlink to a nonfiction work published on Scribd, The Light of Life (http://www.scribd.com/doc/8883353/The-Light-of-Life). I enjoy his writing very much and hope that you do as well. I encourage you to visit the Scribd piece to read in what other fields Daniel thinks and writes. Daniel is also available on MySpace and Facebook ( http://www.myspace.com/daniel_drumm and Facebook/ Daniel Drumm). The photographs and illustrations published here along side of Daniel's work are in no way the responsibilty of Daniel Drumm, they are my additions and their use my decision.
If karma were simplistic (which it is not) and if reincarnation is true (insert your own answer), then lead a good life and pray that you do not come back to work anything out in the five following countries: Haiti, Indonesia, the Philippines, North Korea or Myanmar. There are others, of course, but those five top the list. I decided to abandon my roll call of the world's disaster and political follies for this entry simply because recently it has been overwhelming. I become exhausted from keeping abreast of the constant flow of news, banalities and sometimes breathtaking outrageousness. With our ADSL television line, I have I-do-not-know-how-many twenty-four hour news channels, in myriad languages, All of them trumpet and drum roll the ongoing lists of disasters, political propinquities and nature's armegeddon with a sense of the blasé so profound that their numbness transmits itself across the line to the viewer. My roll call will undoubtedly return, but not this time. First I shall post Daniel, guest blogger, and then in a fast following post I shall give the next set of Major Arcana, the Attributes. The first set, the Avatars, has already been given in a previous post. I shall also recall a few points on The Path of Totality and the Synthesis of Mysticism. That post will finish with another excerpt from The Egyptian Book of the Dead: The Book of Going Forth by Day.
Daniel Drumm
Continuing
"What did you want? Even a name recalled here
Continues, rises before you, filling the heart,
Emptying..." And the heart hearing descends to an image:
A long strip of sand and washing water. I walk
Upright, aware of breathing, the moment's clarity
And surface, the blinding light...I am any
One, a wheel turning another time. It ends
As it begins- a wind barely touching percepts,
Presence passing hand to fitful hand, a dream
Language of opening, entering
The sleep of things. This hour we meet.
Still moments in a garden of voices.
The small bodies of birds weave
Above the ocean, spark, twist, crisscross
Kiss, till I wonder what it feels to be
So light in the intimate pull and pushing breezes
Streaming, falling, beautiful dark wings
With no hard sleep of thought remembering
Sleep, or waking once more in another air.
Ever filling. Ever emptying.
Living silence somehow afraid of the quiet
I spoke not speaking, newly wakened
In a dream of nouns, carefully unfolding a clench
Of rose, for a heart ever opened.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
How private this
as every tryst
with form:
a space quiet fills.
Spectral shape
for holding
the stirring
movements, urgings
some primal desire
of stone aliving
in the unreal
slow twilit minute
of parks and weddings...
Turning, turning to
the physical the mute
understanding of curve
stone gives beneath
the curving hand.
Here
in the dreaming living
where meeting, met
no longer hear, miracle stirs...
Change moves and removes
love regains and remains.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
LUCIFER:
Bitter is the daybreak. But bitter still
The thought that God's grand vision bore no fault.
And where's each placed? No matter... all are brought.
Man-kine even, God's cattle. Clay and froth!
Non Servium! was my great call, and round
Bright wings bore dark into the dream of Mine.
Fire gave birth, new light, and thus enwrapt
Did we descend to rule... mere sands, wind-tossed.
All fell, all fell into a dream of self
And would not serve... to serve this heavy hell.
Bright winds deep-fixed and burning, body-caught,
While the circle of their souls still fall and call.
MICHAEL:
Morning answers Peace, and new beginning.
And you... are held within a love so true
That knowledge of the hope and truth you are
Seem bars, and are, to freedom made of fear
(unfinished)
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Coming In
Soon this wind will turn
the season almost saying
night and day with it.
Mechanics in relation
numb the hands.
Numbers follow nothing
blown like crowds
around a design.
Words turn in the mood
and change as memory
or the moon change.
In the bright city white
daylight drifts.
Open, uncertain
I call your name
between love and this
ebb.
Like summer coming in
the screen on a summer's evening
the wind carries a voice
fertile with reasons.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Message to Edna
What lips my own have kissed, or where or why
I've forgotten. As well what arms have lain
Across my chest till morning. But the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, who tap and sigh
Upon the glass, disconsolate, untied.
Here in my heart a strangely widening pain
Loosens, cries... how incomplete all gestures,
All remains, if love wears any lesser name.
Thus at midnight the clock grows loud. Save
That tree outside that naked reaches to
The wintry sky, no image reaches me.
The rain pours down. The ghosts relent. Now I
Who nameless wait till daylight bury grief
Know summer is a wing, and spring, a leaf.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
(This is a rewrite of sonnet #43 by Edna St Vincent Millay...
I felt she was being inauthentic. I wanted to write what shallowness
in relationships would really look like when fruited. Below is her poem:)
(What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.)
"Selfless as melting ice" (Lao Tzu)
knows
it isn't water
that you unbecome.
Letting go
all you don't really know
the frozen flows.....
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Meditation
Under will the stars whiten. The void creaks.
Beneath all your effort lie loss and remorse
like a razor under fabric, gleaming through a cut
like the scraping whispers in the blankness
your onliness searches. Fear fingering
undoing the braid of relation.
Pivoting
you reach from your poverty these pilings.
The wind shambles meanings you gather
hope on hope to this, just this, please this
little box of lostness, psyche deep
feeding on the world. Tiny voice
repeating all the reasons to itself.
Until at last the ground reveals
the smallness of all dream
the duality of all bravura
and in the baldness of the moment
you realize, simply, you do not feel.
And you feel. Your eyes breathe.
The muscles of persona unclench.
You contact once again the world of detail
your self in touch. You heart, at begin,
know open as no recoil. And you feel.
Later you will think. Later still, know...
fear has no size but unliving.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Dancing years
Around the wood the seasons burn and blow.
A sweet smoke flowers and like a song winds
sleepily upwards in your soft brown eyes.
While you dreamt drinking all most magically
the sea rose sounding suddenly your name...
in the strong sea light, bubbles and strange thunders.
By the edges of your growing life huge beasts
stand perplexed at the forest's long silence.
Far off in the distance a silver flute
begins an ancient music filled with Light.
Moving to the meaning the twining dancer
turns to turn the sea to foaming spray
flowering the cup you raise to your lips.
The dreamer murmuring magic syllables
wakes the four winds as memory the child
walks unafraid into your quiet eyes.
19 Sept 74
15 Feb 98
24 May 09
22 Aug 09
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Dancer
"Oh Arunachala! Thou art the Inner Self
who dancest in the hearts as 'I'" - Ramana Maharshi
You feel no change within
love dreams light waking worlds
Clear motion turns to lead
Dawn dances still to the foot
hills descend ascending
Act or the road winds through
the dream machine as life
the sword made song of You
I the dreamt ocean dark
am the bright wheeling sparks
hear the source in the hearts
still lands beyond the rains
Dance! Dancer dance the skies
silvering ends lifeward
Dream draw the long strands of
poverty grass in diamond
The moment sunset dyes
The mountain core alights
The sky wills open the road
sword close the life goes on
the star turns lead to now
you hold love light spills through
the worlds assent to be
you see from all you are
The Dancer dancing ends
to end dreams to life loves
to dance each stage as time
begins to play
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
(Yeats once spoke of a myth he had heard. A man drawing near to the Tree of Life heard the most beautiful music coming from it. But when he got close he found it was made by the continual clashing of swords.
Arunachala is the hill/mountain that Ramana Maharshi lived at the foot of his whole adult life. Local legend said that it was Mt Meru, the center of the World, and that a pillar of Light ran through it.
The word Aruna/ Chala is literally Red Mount. It is taken to mean the Heart. It was in this sense that Ramana called it the Inner Self, the seat of the real I, the spark of the Oversoul as Emerson called God.)
The Death of a Ladies Man
for Leonard Cohen
She follows you talking
fluorescent mirrors
angelic ceramic urinals
the rattling night train
a story of women you...
hours of rain.
How you trashed your heart
trashed the sameness of the poet
to thee, for an autograph
in the throat.
The Conversation pounds
the shore. A million dust motes
lift then settle, lift and settle.
Others die differently, and live on
the same beauty, weak-fingered,
unable to fend off their wife.
Some love you not
magic's nervous pajamas.
Why all this spitting, raving,
punish my beauty, my in
side? Just so no one catch
you flailing at love?
"It's all done with mirrors."
No... never One at all.
The woman lifts the jar, singing.
Return.
Not to the fathers
no strenuous meaning
not to the sound of your own fear godding...
but to the heart you always forget.
Feel, the woman is feeling
not ritual, the many gloves
of fear, but this hand here
reaching. Lilith gibbers
in the mirror, scooping flesh
from your out side.
She stares and says, "I feed you
the broken dish, adolescence...."
Feel, the woman is forming.
Under sex she turns to clay,
not wind, not the living breath
of your returning being, knitness.
Clay.
You carve, it stays. It stares
and says, "Now that we are modeled,
Need you ... I don't need you.
Need you ... I don't need you."
The clay of the eye
cannot reflect what is.
Make no name
for yourself.
If the world were not spun
but held ever in love
you are where you rest.
You are not alone, but present.
When you don't make love
you make idols and heat.
Your Gods are so much
smaller than your sanity.
Require no firstborn.
She lifts, singing, the original man.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
12-19-08
3-21-09
4-14-09
In Your Arms
If the world were not spun but held
ever in love you are where you rest
The soul's voices whitely cover your eyes
Leaning plants within their angle close and open
The mountain centers nothing beyond your gaze
remembering perfectly no other time
In your prayer's need love grows tired
like hands raised from winter rags
And every word changes in love's zero
from action to just news about its progress
Before this began, while you continued
the wind the long sidewalks followed in turn
that night in your making still deeper in none
Love's entrance answers to radiant calm
apart from you none make sense
Hold to nothing in your way in love
Under will the stars whiten, the void whispers
"New loss and emptiness follow going further"
Then you reach from your poverty and shambles
where the wind moves senseless in small circles
losing all you call your world...
seven broken landscapes ring the Light
Your sex changes you divine the machine's parts
and the seasons' relations hidden in the life as death
spins a complicated pattern in the ragged trees
Night stills each embering desire with depth
of perfect surrounding perfectly empty
Somewhere in love making equal to none
the woman of your understanding lies down
to be near your calm center of breathings
by morning the sun wakes in your arms
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
A moth flutters past
my eyelid. A moment... then
the wind from his wings.
No army. But the
abstract tension of motions
as the line crumbles.
Mid-winter gutters.
Forgetting to be
How you starve after something.
Stilling the thinking.
Water drips in the forest
Depths. Plip. Plip. Plip. Plip.
(rewritten from a Japanese haiku)
Impossible weight
and frustration. Outside, green
and yellow blowing.
Black and white. Movement.
A silent conversation
in shell, shale and wood.
Winter. In a car
a tape plays a woman's voice.
Trees wrapt in silence.
Shadow of a moth
outside the window
flutters weightless on my arm.
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
The Laughing Man
with thanks to J D Salinger
How much was revealed by
the sound of his laughter the tissue torn
or known for that matter he stood behind
His face gave back the memory of pain
as calm eyes stared through the poppy
or dropped one by one slowly to sleep
What of his parents convictions his captors
his lonely childhood suffering at the hands
of men silent wanderings and what could be
discovered in his scars his loves his dental X-rays
in yellowed photos in clothes in words
or shaken loose from shattering contact with air
anti-matter strands of hair spittle tears
clippings from some reflective period spots
of blood molecular particles all great
criminals leave in the wake of the physical
relics worshippers detail their mythology with
some small perfectly knowable part of one
life infused with the violence of gods
whose life like nightmares terrifies
shuddering at the implications of the possible
disintegrations at the speed of light
assumptions violent as the
II
Love how little feels the loss as light
transforms the cross the years bend by
stars by pentagrams by pyramids
dark centers of the ocean and night falling
by magic mathematics Merlin
dissolves the coagulate sound separates
the cord by webs of weddings in the final
forest play patchwork white by burnt leaf
by now arranged in hair and bosom to please
the dying many-colored westward sin
Lavender is the color of a dying animal
sunset evokes the living fathers sons
fall like shipwrecked crosses
turn to light bones seagulls all that
remains as white invisible rainbow
burns through the clouds the aeons absorb
the rain-dreamt circle some ancient
symbol of love's dream of light
III
How private this as every tryst
with forms a space quiet fills
spectral shape for holding
stirring movements urgings
some primal desire of stone aliving
in the unreal, slow twilit minute
of parks and weddings...turning
turning from the physical the mute
understanding of curve stone
gives beneath the curving hand
and if this full minute in the grey
meeting no longer hears the homeward
call time but denies the proffered
miracle as love regains release
IV
From the symbol comes the night, mere turnings
as the day dreams on the distance between
roses feel absence as the white breath of spaces
and the face the rising reflection all mirror
mercury tinted remembrance of objects loved
imagines all before to be returning
for the loss irrevocable motionless violence
the remembered ash of some sharp glance
some suspended act of love recalled in secret
The guiltless lovers promise their bodies
to convents to converts to Christmas
Saints celebrate a comic book
perfection perform the ritual necessary
evils stain the calendar's pure number
with a subtle and undying love
What heroes these with spider webs of reason
what rings powers lanterns sinews bulging
from sere yellowed pages in blue black relief and all that could be understood of God
behind the necessary mask
Black Wing is dead
The ancient dwarf covers the truth and weeps
Vagrant winds blow meaning past the streetlamp
How many left the well-lit the familiar
home that night with vows of pure devotion
dedicated to the private landscape the crack
in everything created by love's offering
Daniel Drumm (c)2009
One and One is Apple
When one (contours of silence) with one climb together
in climb and gather silence gather the two
gather such fruit as gift might each to each
two eat in the dreamt leaf shade, in pregnant jest
pull the fleshy pulp apart, tear it from the seed
devour it slowly who savour the bite beneath
the tree (as symbol is the negative space of mind
and time defines with nothingness) till adam come
(we were not first to do this who were as gods)
with knowing grin to tell us of this new loneliness.
Then more than gods (gods are but relief
from our aloneness) we bring this newborn knowledge
to the separate bed, garnering silences like glassy fruit
in a shallow bowl sequestered by the light
apart from the fleshy dream, like symbol, who
climb to this hard thought among the branches
define it with our hand, knowing like adam, we
tempt the fell fruit in mind, tear it from the tree
tear self from self, devour the two
in jest join darkness and desire, then depart.
Until no longer knowing (we took three steps from this-
the last in turning showed us all) as all were gifts
and Now for rosy-headed children, the flora real,
the darkness merely dark, each symbol lost like time
(the space that lies between us) and adam gone
for all his bitter humor of one and one is apple, and alone
still something sweet to stay alive stayed with us-
always one found one and gathered two
as two become in silence, each to each
promises until we're broken.
Daniel Drumm ©1972
The Heart's Full
The heart's full
and each man flowers.
Life in love is
each man's holy lie
as time a liar makes us all.
With numbing stroke
stills the murmuring mouth
and bleeds the captured
smell of permanence.
Let heart tick fraud
and each man's empty
Vase enamel blooms
for each loves close.
And still the acid etch
of tear on clay
that mouth this numbing
truth: time parts
and the images
love holds break away.
10 March 72 (final sentence
8 September 79)
Daniel Drumm(c)2009
Childhood's End
Where the children gather
the land opens to the rain
A heartbeat draws them they
come together by the rocks
Men drop to the flowers there
masses the Holy Ghost
As the air opens to touch
the children reach by One
into the rocks then blood
and out flow on ever
As never points in time
to the new direction, Man
held and released as Love
intends no clearer change
fulfilling wherever
first coalescing holy
numbers of the long flowers
open into the rocks -
vessels of the breathing sky
hold their fragrance to the time
As the wind is close and long
the children come often
pressing on one by one
awake to the strange touch
of dream as to going
Where the land opens to the sky
there the rain falls counting
children of the new wine
and reaching to the ground
lifts a clear chalice
Daniel Drumm ©
Before beginning grew in thee my love
grew gradually light in light, deep motions
tore sense from night, the circle then
called two all the ocean, now here
dawns clearly, love, truth, morning...
Before beginning grew in thee my love
grew gradually light in light, deep motions
tore sense from night, the circle then
called two all the ocean, now here
dawn redly the window mornings...
Daniel Drumm ©
Easter 1974
So many years with nothing
I've learnt to keep my distance
A good long step from loving
In time I learned to dance
Without touching my partner.
Protecting a weary pride
Of wants... still this perfect heart
Never kissed the new bride.
If angels sang I gave no
Second thought to life measures.
Love sought itself in rings of
Dreams of buried pleasure.
Now I kneel me down to dust.
Prayer is dying, knowing you
Don't know love, but a moment's gust.
Dying kills a taste for husks.
And Jesus gave no reason
Dancing years upon the cross
But kissed each tender season
And death was not its cost.
Forever is a long time
Loving seek no distant dream.
Angels don't sing lullabyes
To wake what death has seemed
Life is no real distance from
Objects of its calm, widening touch.
And I will meet him as I am
When I lay down to dust.
Dan Drumm (c) 2009
The Jesus Freed
1 Cor 15:47
You ask me very nicely what I'm reading
As if you'd like to hear what I might know.
You listen to my words, you nod and answer,
"The Lord is such and such and so and so."
The words are dead and blank as if you'd stamped them
On forehead, hand and heart some time ago.
"No one can buy or sell the Truth without him."
"No questions if there's just One Way to go."
A heart won't lift to heart's perfecting if a
mind can't ask, can't knock, can't seek to know.
What Jesus freed is still bound despite salvation:
The Lord from heaven from the man you show.
Daniel Drumm ©
The following is an excerpt from The Light of Life:
Preface
Christianity no longer really has a way to establish grounds for knowledge that derives from the divine, that includes what we call objective knowledge. Not that works psychologically and philosophically, and can stand side by side with science. As a result many churches have become faith or feeling based, filled with hope, love and belief, but not knowledge. Few Christians would consider religion an equal with science in obtaining knowledge or facts, despite their disagreement with science’s interpretation of them. Western religion has lost its philosophical and noetic roots in our culture. Yet with religion that hasn’t divorced insight from practice such as Yoga, Vedanta or Buddhism it is an odd fact that western science itself, and physics in particular, has opened a dialogue to compare its knowledge and thinks it may even have something to learn- from men who merely sit in meditation. Scientists like Bohm and Sheldrake have even incorporated elements from these knowledge based religions’ explanations of reality into their theories....
Daniel Drumm ©2007
Thank you, Daniel. On to other things: I am going to reprint The Synthesis of Mysticism, as well as a few points from The Path of Totality in a shortly-to-be-posted additional blog entry devoted soley, and briefly, to these and a presentation of the Attributes from the Major Arcana. The posting shall end with the excerpt from The Egyptian Book of the Dead.
From here in the DHOSF, until the next,
Leducdor
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
" . . . Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; . . . "
" . . . it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone."
Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House, (1959)
One of the classics of supernatural literature of the 20th century, The Haunting of Hill House, by Shirley Jackson, is a favorite of mine. It was adapted into two movies, 1963 (good) and 1999 (a stinker), as well as a stage play and is often the subject of literary analytical froofrah and empty post-deconstructionist mumbo-jumbo. Read the book, watch the 1963 movie and draw your own conclusions about what Ms. Jackson was trying to convey. Which leads me to another question – Why are haunted houses, in reality or art, never in big cities? The settings are always small towns or isolated countryside locations. You would think that ghosts, phantoms and such would adore large populations amongst which to hide, or to scare, but that seems to be an unwritten law in spookdom, “Do not haunt a densely populated area.” There may be many reasons for that, just as there are certain exceptions: haunted hotel rooms, old apartment buildings, etc. But by and large, metropolii are not the haunt of choice for bound-to-the-earth spirits. Infernal spirits, of course, are quite different: demons inhabit swank apartment buildings and seem to have a particular fetish for suburban homes. All of which only serves to depressingly remind one that perhaps snobbism and hierarchical social ranking exist even in the afterlife of the condemned. Another line from Hill House is among my favorites: “I sleep on my left side because I read somewhere it wears out the heart quicker.” Oddly enough, I do prefer to sleep on my left side.
Scanning from West to East, herewith a sampling of some of the items in world news that have attracted my attention. Recently in Mexico City there was a Latin American clown convention. There are few things more sinister than a clown, and the fact that thousands of them gathered in Mexico City would have been enough to force me to spend a week at my country hacienda. I have always disliked clowns, and the circus, as a kind of warped entertainment for the immensely stupid and easily entertained. As I said, there is something extremely sinister in both examples. Clowns do not entertain, they frighten, and circuses are founded on the premise of “If you are lucky tonight, you may see an actual death.” These are always accompanied by the inevitable “Freak Show” and the gut-wrenching “Midway”, where you are hawked to buy disgusting foods guaranteed to induce vomiting and then to take equilibrium-shattering rides that doubly insure your illness. “Oh my, aren’t we having a good time!” you think, as you wretch out your interior behind the tent of some attraction.
In the United Kingdom, I notice that heroin users are now subsidized by the State, with clean injections and government produced and administered heroin of a purity of which all addicts can only dream. This costs the State approximately $22,000.00 a year per addict, which is glowingly compared to the $66,000.00 per year per person it costs to keep someone in prison. (Why these figures were not given in Pounds Sterling I do not know.) The punch line to this is the televised interview with an addict who states, “Finally, one can take heroin in a rational way and get on with one’s life.” It is hard to believe one’s ears when one hears a statement such as that. Be it noted that I am not in favor of punishing addicts, they do that quite well themselves. However, to note that your taxes are being spent this way is a conundrum, at best.
Here in France, I note that La Tour d’Argent, a very famous Parisian landmark restaurant, is auctioning off 18,000 bottles from its 500,000 bottles cellar. Among those being auctioned are wines and cognacs more than three centuries old, including cognacs from before the French Revolution. Now, if I know my French and my Europeans (and I do), palates are salivating around Europe and indeed around the globe. (Surely some of these fabled bottles will end up in Asia.) La Tour d’Argent conservatively estimates that the auction will net 1 million euros. Oh, please, who are you kidding? Oenophiles worldwide will enter a frenzy to obtain these bottles of spirits, and I believe that 1 million is a risibly small sum compared to what will actually be paid. Combining France and England, I recently went to the neighborhood pharmacy to inquire if I need a prescription for my influenza vaccine. Why, no! I was told, and the pharmacist sold me the vaccine then and there for a mere 5€. It comes pre-loaded in a small syringe, and the pharmacist informed me that should I wish to avoid an unnecessary trip to the doctor, I could simply inject myself at home, which I did. A short jab in the shoulder, press the plunger and voilà! you are done. Devi was a bit distressed watching me do this, and emphatically turned down my offer to do it to her, for which I did not blame her. She receives her vaccine and shot free at the doctor’s office, being old enough to profit from a senior discount. I have not yet reached the golden age, thus my 5€. Elsewhere in Europe, the war crimes trial of Bosnian Serb leader Radovan Karadzic has started at the International Tribunal at The Hague. He boycotted the opening of his trial, stating that he needed more time to prepare his defense (he has had ten months). He is representing himself. He was caught somewhere in Eastern Europe practicing “psychic healing.” The trial goes on without him and is expected to last two years. Two years – with any luck, he may contract a psychic disease and die before they can incarcerate him somewhere along the North Sea.
Moving south, Morocco is on a big tourist campaign push here in Europe. I like Morocco. A land of moderate Islam, fabulous history, good shopping and dreams of ‘1001 Arabian Nights’-like luxury. I inquired at La Mamounia Hotel in Marrakech as to their rates and was informed that a 7-night stay, in a junior suite, would only cost me $10,000.00, exclusive of taxes and personal consumption. If I were to wish a less spacious accommodation, I could book a room for around $7,500 for the stay. Of course La Mamounia is the stuff of legend, and no doubt Devi and I would book an equally luxurious, but smaller and more affordable accommodation in Morocco known as a riad. Such a trip may well be on our agendas, after we have accomplished a voyage dearer to my heart, a stay in Istanbul. An advantage to Morocco is that French is widely spoken there, which would soothe Devi no end. Perhaps we can economize on the flights and simply row across the Mediterranean. Still in Africa, I note that the Nigerian Ministry of Information is on a push to “clarify” that there really is not any corruption in Nigeria, and that the world’s Nth largest oil producing nation does NOT have a problem with electricity, it is simply those scummy poor always complaining about state services. Now when a government has a Ministry of Information, you may safely bet that electricity and corruption are simply two amongst many problems with said government. But you have to love those colorful dashikis, do you not?
Slipping over to the Middle East, I note that Turkey and Armenia are trying to warm up relations which have been frozen for nearly a century. It seems to be a small, niggling problem about a Turkish genocide of Armenians, oh, “sometime way back when.” The treaty to start talks on a treaty that would authorize, perhaps, a treaty, were “kicked off” to a start by a football (soccer) game between the two nations (Turkey won). Concurrent with all of this, Turkey is on a CNN worldwide publicity blitz advertising that you should invest in Turkey, as it has over 450,000 science, technology and business graduates per year, and that Theodora, a 6th century Byzantine empress, was NOT a trained circus performer and whore who rose through the ranks to seduce and marry the emperor, but in fact a devout religious minority member who was slandered by historians. Perhaps. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theodora_(6th_century) ). Deeper in the Middle East, a Saudi court sentenced a female journalist on Saturday to 60 lashes for her work on a controversial Arabic-language TV show that aired an episode in which a man bragged about his sex life (see previous blog entry). King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia has pardoned her, and is thus being hailed as a compassionate reformer and advocate of women’s right. Yes, indeed, and perhaps that can be explained to his forty-two wives. Totally unrelated, if you have not seen the YouTube video of "Achmed the Dead Terrorist”, you must watch it. It is very funny. Here is a link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uwOL4rB-go. Another wonderful advertising campaign is by the Abu Dhabi police, who for some bizarre reason are pushing their “there to protect you” message on a worldwide basis. The police? What can possibly be the reason for that? Do they have a bad reputation? Is Abu Dhabi a hotbed of anarchy and crime? It escapes explanation, but there it is. In our “Unfortunate Name of the Week” category, the winner is Mohammed Jamjoom, a CNN reporter. His name sounds like an Islamic kiddie’s treat. The runner-up is Nancy O’Karma (again, CNN), said name bringing improbable speculations about either mixed marriage or someone gone wildly astray in her search for a maharishi. Oddly enough, this does not seem to be an isolated name, there is a gossip columnist named Alexandra O’Karma. This reminds me of the old joke about how to pick your stripper/drag queen name: take the name of your first pet and add the name of your first residential street. That would make my ‘nom de strip’ Sammi Aliso. I wonder if I can pole-dance? Further east, we run into the run-off elections in Pakistan. I can only grimly smile when I think of the American diplomats and advisers who told President Karzai, ‘Listen, Karz, either you accept another election or we hang your ass out to dry.” So he grovels on Pakistani television, saying that “alleged fraud has forced him, in all justice, to hold a run-off election.” You could almost see the puppeteer’s hand up his fundament. The Afghanis are now taking to the streets to protest undue foreign influence (i.e. American) and presence on their soil. ("Vacation in exciting and ever-changing South Waziristan!”) Fine, we have decided to withdraw from your country, leave you to your fate with your own radical insurgents, and when the time comes, as it surely will, turn your nation into a vast sheet of nuclear glass because you wanted foreigners out and your own radicals in power and in control of nuclear weapons. This is all eerily similar to Vietnam, and no, I do not think it is winnable. They will never stop breeding their homegrown radicals, they will never see a bigger picture, but we, too, must accept the fact that policing the world is not an option. It is a bitter truth, but you cannot guarantee peace with war. It is as simple as that. Further east, and further . . . . Did you know that 2,000 new cars enter Beijing traffic each day? Go ahead, breathe deep of the intoxicating air of the Celestial Empire! The Mandate of Heaven is in a plastic display case in the Temple of Supreme Harmony museum, open 7 days a week from 13:00 until 13:15, reservations required. And no, do not ask, you may not see where we buried the last emperor of China, but you can see where the first emperor is buried, except it is just a landscaped mountain, because we are too afraid to actually open his legendarily fabulous tomb in case his evil spirit escapes and subjugates China once more. (That is true; they will not excavate his tomb for precisely that reason.) East, further east . . . I was recently made aware of Kpop, the South Korean phenomenon of wildly popular pop music and its reigning prince, Rain. His name is actually Jing Ji Hoon. As a neophyte, I watched his videos and must admit he is very talented, very charismatic and very attractive. Not bad at all. ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5B0XItDpSM ). He is making inroads in both the USA and Europe; we can only hope he reaps his billions before he becomes the sad spectacle that was Michael Jackson (no apologies to any MJ fans out there). I find it improbable, however, that I would ever utter, “Slip it over here, bitch.” It is not me and, secondly, Devi would most likely look at me as if I had become certifiably insane. In one video, “I’m Coming Out”, (no, not gay) he sports a pair of large white angelic wings. Well, yes, imaged enough, but were I to be rich enough to fund genetic research and modification, I would want BIG wings, and not white, but multi-colored like a Brazilian parrot, yet sparkling as if made of crystal. Of course, they would have to be functional. If I am going to fly across the skies of France on my own wings, it had better be stylish. This does not, of course, take into account the plastic surgery needed to slim me down, give me the figure of a god, the face of an angel and the laser light show and LED effects that would have to be implanted everywhere on my body. Plunging south, I found a wonderful story out of Tasmania. It seems that years ago, an elderly woman was robbed and violated by a then unknown. At the scene, police found a leech, apparently detached from the body of the perpetrator after he had swam through a swamp to get to her residence. They kept it. Now, umpteen years later, they have extracted the blood from the leech and identified the criminal. He was arrested and confessed. They are still looking for his partner. There is something quaint about the story – “Crime-fighting leech busts bloke!”, “I got sucked, I got busted!” I may have to put Tasmania on my “must visit” list.
Now, on to better things. As promised, the Grand Hierophant has finally given me the first installments of the doctrine for The Path of Totality (questions to: grandhierophant@hotmail.fr). After his words, I shall conclude with the Chapter for the Going Down to the Tribunal of Osiris from The Book of Going Forth by Day: The Egyptian Book of the Dead. The Grand Hierophant writes this:
“In understanding the complexity of imparting a body of knowledge, I have been forced to abbreviate and simplify the basic points which I wish to impart to the seekers of said knowledge. It is not useful to obfuscate the teaching with unnecessary obscurantism. The great Book is as it has always been, though prostituted by years of deformation and misuse. In order to enter the Path of Totality, I have tried to clear away the cobwebs and give the essential, esoteric meaning to the lames of the Book. Many know it as the Tarot. It is not that which you may imagine. It is not an engine for prognostication. It is a diagram, a map, for progression in this life, from this life to a higher reality. That which is given below is a sketch, if you will, of your path if you wish to follow it. It is not inflexible, it is not tyrannical. You are free to follow the path, or not. No one can force you to Wisdom, no one can force you to evolve. In a series of abbreviated descriptions. I strive to delineate the basics of how the path starts, how it progresses, how it continues. Beware always of false prophets – many promise enlightenment, but it is you who must achieve it. For the sake of clarity, the Book is divided into 5 sections; The Avatars, the Attributes, the Alliances, the Axials and the Apposites. Each will be presented separately. Start at the beginning, take what you can, study it. Come back again and again. Only by absorbing each arcanum can you hope to progress. It is not easy, it is not hard. It is simply what it is. Good journey to you all:
The Avatars
I - The Magician
Will
Letter Athoim (A) - Number 1
A = 1 and expresses, in the Divine World, the Absolute Being, which contains, and from which emanates, the Infinite of possibilities. In the Intellectual World it is Unity, the principle and synthesis of numbers, and Will, the principle of actions. In the Physical World it is Man, the highest of the relative beings, called to elevate himself for perpetual expansion of his faculties to the concentric spheres of the Absolute. The Arcanum I is represented by the Magician, an example of a perfect type of man, that is in full possession of his physical and moral faculties. He has been depicted standing, in an attitude of will ready for action. He is clothed in white, symbol of original and re-attained pureness. A serpent biting its tail serves as his belt: the symbol of eternity. His forehead is bound by a circle of gold: gold signifies light and the circle expresses the universal circumference within which created things gravitate. His right hand holds a golden scepter, implying command, which he raises towards the heavens in a sign of aspiration towards wisdom, science and strength. The index finger of the left hand points towards the ground signifying that the mission of perfect man is to reign over the material world. This double gesture also expresses the fact that human will must reflect down below divine will, in order to produce good and impede evil.
There is a cup, a sword and a shekel, or gold coin, in the middle of which a cross has been engraved, in front of the Magician, on a cubic stone. The cup signifies a mixing of the passions that contribute to happiness or unhappiness, according to whether we are their masters or slaves. The sword signifies work; struggle against obstacles and the trials that pain makes us suffer. The shekel, symbol of determined value, portrays aspirations realized, completed works, the sum of power conquered by will's perseverance and efficiency. The cross, seal of the infinite that marks the shekel, announces the future ascension of this power to the spheres of the Future.
Remember that man must act, like God, without pause. To want nothing or to do nothing is no less grievous than to want or to do evil. If the Magician appears among the prophetic signs, he is announcing that strong will and faith in yourself, guided by reason and love for justice, will lead you to the objective you want to reach, and will preserve you from danger on your way.
II - The High Priestess
Door to the Occult Sanctuary - Science
Letter Beinthin (B) - Number 2
B = 2 and expresses, in the Divine World, knowledge of the Absolute Being, which embraces the three terms for all manifestations: the past, the present and the future. In the Intellectual World it is Binary, reflection of Unity and Science, perception of visible and invisible things. In the Physical World it is the female form of Man, uniting herself to him to complete an equal destiny.
Arcanum II is represented by a woman seated on the threshold of the Temple of Isis, between two columns. The column to her right is red: this color signifies a pure spirit and numinous ascension above matter. The column to her left is black and stands for the night of Chaos and imprisonment of an impure spirit in the bonds of matter.
The woman is crowned with a tiara surmounted by a crescent moon, and a transparent veil falls over her face. A solar cross hangs from her neck and an open book, half covered by her cloak, lies on her knees. This symbolic ensemble personifies Occult Science waiting for the initiate on the threshold of the Sanctuary of Isis in order to tell him the secrets of Universal Nature. The solar cross, like the Indian lingam, signifies fecundity of matter by the spirit; it also expresses, as the seal of the infinite, the science that comes from God and that has no borders, like its source. The veil around the tiara and falling over her face announces that Truth avoids the gaze of profane curiosity. The half-hidden book under her cloak signifies that mysteries are revealed only in solitude to the sage absorbed in silent contemplation in the full quiet of himself.
Remember that the spirit lights up seeking God with the eyes of Will. God has said: "Let there be light!", and light flooded space. Man must say: "Let Will show itself and let Good come to me!" If man possesses a healthy will, he will see Truth shine again and, led by it, will reach the good to which he aspires. Knock resolutely at the door of the Future and it will be opened; but reflect long over the way you are about to walk. Turn your face towards the Sun of Justice, and the Science of Truth will be given unto you. Keep quiet about your plans, so as not to free them for contradiction by men.
III - The Empress
Isis/Urania - Action
Letter Gomor (G) - Number 3
G = 3 and expresses Supreme Power in the Divine World, balanced by eternally active Intelligence and absolute Wisdom. In the Intellectual World it is the universal fecundity of Being. In the Physical World it is Nature at work, the seed of the actions that blossom from Will.
Arcanum III is portrayed by the image of a woman seated in the center of a radiant sun; she is crowned with twelve stars and her feet rest on the Moon. She personifies universal fecundity. The Sun is the emblem of creative power; the starred crown symbolizes, with the number twelve, the Houses or stations that this heavenly body travels from year to year around the zodiacal circle. This woman, Celestial Isis or Nature, holds a scepter surmounted by a globe; this is the sign of her perpetual action on things that have been, or will be, born. In her other hand she holds an eagle, symbol of the heights to which a spirit can rise. The Moon placed under her feet portrays the inferiority of Matter and its domination by the Spirit.
Remember that to affirm what is true and want what is just is already to create; to affirm and want the contrary means to devote oneself to destruction. Hope for success in your undertakings, provided that you know how to unite fecund activity to rectitude of spirit that makes works flourish.
IV - The Emperor
The Cubic Stone - Realization
Letter Dinain (D) - Number 4
D = 4 and expresses the perpetual and hierarchical realization of the virtualities contained in the Absolute Being in the Divine World. In the Intellectual World it is the realization of the ideas of the contingent Being thanks to the four-fold work of the spirit: Affirmation, Negation, Discussion and Solution. In the Physical World it is the realization of the acts directed by the Science of Truth, Love for Justice, Strength of will and Work of the organs.
Arcanum IV is represented by a man wearing a helmet with a crown. He is seated on a cubic stone. His right hand holds a scepter aloft and his bent right leg rests on the other in the form of a cross. The cubic Stone, the figure of a perfect solid, signifies the completed human work. The crowned helmet is the emblem of strength that has vanquished power. This dominator is in possession of the scepter of Isis, and the stone that serves him as throne signifies matter dominated. The cross traced out by the position of his legs symbolizes the four elements and the expansion of human power in all its senses.
Remember that nothing resists steadfast will that has the science of truth and justice as a lever. To fight to ensure realization of them is more than a right: it is a duty. The man who triumphs in this struggle is only carrying out his terrestrial mission; he who succumbs, dedicating himself to it, acquires immortality. The realization of your hopes depends on a more powerful Being than yourself; try to get to know it and you will obtain its support.
V - The Hierophant
Lord of the Arcana - Inspiration
Letter Eni (E) - Number 5
E = 5 and expresses Universal Law, ruler of the infinite manifestations of the Being in the unity of substance, in the Divine World. In the Intellectual World it is Religion, the relationship of the absolute Being with the relative Being; from the infinite to the finite. In the Physical World it is aspiration communicated by the vibrations of heavenly fluids; it is the proof of man in front of Liberty of action, in the unbreakable circle of Universal Law.
Arcanum V is depicted as the Hierophant, master of sacred mysteries. This prince of occult doctrine is seated between two columns of the Sanctuary. He is leaning on a three-barred cross and is tracing the sign of silence on his breast with the index finger of the other hand. Two prostrate men lie at his feet, one dressed in red, and the other in black. The hierophant, supreme organ of sacred science, represents the genius of good inspirations of the spirit and the conscience; his gesture invites one to concentrate in order to hear the voice of the heavens in the silence of the passion and instinct of the flesh.
The right column symbolizes Divine Law; the left one, the freedom to obey and disobey. The three-barred cross is the emblem of God penetrating into three worlds, in order to make all the manifestations of Universal Life flower. The two prostrate men represent the Genius of Light and the Genius of the Dark, both of whom obey the Master of the Arcana.
Remember, before saying whether a man is happy or unhappy it is necessary to know what use he has made of his will, since every man creates his life in the image of his works. The Genius of Good is to your right and that of Evil to your left; their voice only extends to your conscience: absorb it and it will reply."
And now for the excerpt from the Egyptian Book of the Dead:
Chapter 124
Chapter for going down to the Tribunal of Osiris
My soul has built an enclosed place in Busiris, and I am flourishing in Pe; I plow my fields in my own shape, and my dom-palm is that upon which Min is.
What I doubly detest, I will not eat; my detestation is feces, and I will not eat it. I will not consume excrement, I will not approach it with my hands, I will not tread on it with my sandals, because my bread is of white emmer and my beer is of red barley. It is the Night-bark and the Day-bark which bring it to me, and I will eat beneath the branches, for I know the bearers of what is good. Then I will recite glorifications of the White Crown, and I will be raised aloft by the uraei. O you door-keepers of Him who pacified the Two Lands, bring me those who prepare offerings and let the branches be raised for me; may the sunshine open its arms to me, may the Ennead be silent when the sun-folk speak to me. May I guide the hearts of the gods, and may they protect me, may I be mighty among those who suspend themselves on high. As for any god or any goddess who shall oppose themselves to me, they shall be handed over to those who are in charge of the year, who live on hearts, while the preparation of Senu-bread is before me; may Osiris eat it when going forth from the East, may it be allotted to those who are in the presence of Re, may it be allotted to those who are in the presence of the Sunshine-god who covers the sky among the great ones who belong to it.
Place bread in my mouth; I will go to the Moon-god, so that he may speak to me, that the followers of the gods may speak to me, that the sun may speak to me, and that the sun-folk may speak to me. The dread of me is in the twilight and in the Celestial Waters which are his on his forehead; I am there with Osiris, and my mat is his mat among the Elders. I have told him the words of men, and I have repeated to him the words of the gods. My spirit comes equipped, for I am an equipped spirit and I have equipped all the spirits.
Please do not forget to take the poll at the bottom of the blog. (Just hit “end” and you will be taken there.) Until the next,
Leducdor
Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House, (1959)
One of the classics of supernatural literature of the 20th century, The Haunting of Hill House, by Shirley Jackson, is a favorite of mine. It was adapted into two movies, 1963 (good) and 1999 (a stinker), as well as a stage play and is often the subject of literary analytical froofrah and empty post-deconstructionist mumbo-jumbo. Read the book, watch the 1963 movie and draw your own conclusions about what Ms. Jackson was trying to convey. Which leads me to another question – Why are haunted houses, in reality or art, never in big cities? The settings are always small towns or isolated countryside locations. You would think that ghosts, phantoms and such would adore large populations amongst which to hide, or to scare, but that seems to be an unwritten law in spookdom, “Do not haunt a densely populated area.” There may be many reasons for that, just as there are certain exceptions: haunted hotel rooms, old apartment buildings, etc. But by and large, metropolii are not the haunt of choice for bound-to-the-earth spirits. Infernal spirits, of course, are quite different: demons inhabit swank apartment buildings and seem to have a particular fetish for suburban homes. All of which only serves to depressingly remind one that perhaps snobbism and hierarchical social ranking exist even in the afterlife of the condemned. Another line from Hill House is among my favorites: “I sleep on my left side because I read somewhere it wears out the heart quicker.” Oddly enough, I do prefer to sleep on my left side.
Scanning from West to East, herewith a sampling of some of the items in world news that have attracted my attention. Recently in Mexico City there was a Latin American clown convention. There are few things more sinister than a clown, and the fact that thousands of them gathered in Mexico City would have been enough to force me to spend a week at my country hacienda. I have always disliked clowns, and the circus, as a kind of warped entertainment for the immensely stupid and easily entertained. As I said, there is something extremely sinister in both examples. Clowns do not entertain, they frighten, and circuses are founded on the premise of “If you are lucky tonight, you may see an actual death.” These are always accompanied by the inevitable “Freak Show” and the gut-wrenching “Midway”, where you are hawked to buy disgusting foods guaranteed to induce vomiting and then to take equilibrium-shattering rides that doubly insure your illness. “Oh my, aren’t we having a good time!” you think, as you wretch out your interior behind the tent of some attraction.
In the United Kingdom, I notice that heroin users are now subsidized by the State, with clean injections and government produced and administered heroin of a purity of which all addicts can only dream. This costs the State approximately $22,000.00 a year per addict, which is glowingly compared to the $66,000.00 per year per person it costs to keep someone in prison. (Why these figures were not given in Pounds Sterling I do not know.) The punch line to this is the televised interview with an addict who states, “Finally, one can take heroin in a rational way and get on with one’s life.” It is hard to believe one’s ears when one hears a statement such as that. Be it noted that I am not in favor of punishing addicts, they do that quite well themselves. However, to note that your taxes are being spent this way is a conundrum, at best.
Here in France, I note that La Tour d’Argent, a very famous Parisian landmark restaurant, is auctioning off 18,000 bottles from its 500,000 bottles cellar. Among those being auctioned are wines and cognacs more than three centuries old, including cognacs from before the French Revolution. Now, if I know my French and my Europeans (and I do), palates are salivating around Europe and indeed around the globe. (Surely some of these fabled bottles will end up in Asia.) La Tour d’Argent conservatively estimates that the auction will net 1 million euros. Oh, please, who are you kidding? Oenophiles worldwide will enter a frenzy to obtain these bottles of spirits, and I believe that 1 million is a risibly small sum compared to what will actually be paid. Combining France and England, I recently went to the neighborhood pharmacy to inquire if I need a prescription for my influenza vaccine. Why, no! I was told, and the pharmacist sold me the vaccine then and there for a mere 5€. It comes pre-loaded in a small syringe, and the pharmacist informed me that should I wish to avoid an unnecessary trip to the doctor, I could simply inject myself at home, which I did. A short jab in the shoulder, press the plunger and voilà! you are done. Devi was a bit distressed watching me do this, and emphatically turned down my offer to do it to her, for which I did not blame her. She receives her vaccine and shot free at the doctor’s office, being old enough to profit from a senior discount. I have not yet reached the golden age, thus my 5€. Elsewhere in Europe, the war crimes trial of Bosnian Serb leader Radovan Karadzic has started at the International Tribunal at The Hague. He boycotted the opening of his trial, stating that he needed more time to prepare his defense (he has had ten months). He is representing himself. He was caught somewhere in Eastern Europe practicing “psychic healing.” The trial goes on without him and is expected to last two years. Two years – with any luck, he may contract a psychic disease and die before they can incarcerate him somewhere along the North Sea.
Moving south, Morocco is on a big tourist campaign push here in Europe. I like Morocco. A land of moderate Islam, fabulous history, good shopping and dreams of ‘1001 Arabian Nights’-like luxury. I inquired at La Mamounia Hotel in Marrakech as to their rates and was informed that a 7-night stay, in a junior suite, would only cost me $10,000.00, exclusive of taxes and personal consumption. If I were to wish a less spacious accommodation, I could book a room for around $7,500 for the stay. Of course La Mamounia is the stuff of legend, and no doubt Devi and I would book an equally luxurious, but smaller and more affordable accommodation in Morocco known as a riad. Such a trip may well be on our agendas, after we have accomplished a voyage dearer to my heart, a stay in Istanbul. An advantage to Morocco is that French is widely spoken there, which would soothe Devi no end. Perhaps we can economize on the flights and simply row across the Mediterranean. Still in Africa, I note that the Nigerian Ministry of Information is on a push to “clarify” that there really is not any corruption in Nigeria, and that the world’s Nth largest oil producing nation does NOT have a problem with electricity, it is simply those scummy poor always complaining about state services. Now when a government has a Ministry of Information, you may safely bet that electricity and corruption are simply two amongst many problems with said government. But you have to love those colorful dashikis, do you not?
Slipping over to the Middle East, I note that Turkey and Armenia are trying to warm up relations which have been frozen for nearly a century. It seems to be a small, niggling problem about a Turkish genocide of Armenians, oh, “sometime way back when.” The treaty to start talks on a treaty that would authorize, perhaps, a treaty, were “kicked off” to a start by a football (soccer) game between the two nations (Turkey won). Concurrent with all of this, Turkey is on a CNN worldwide publicity blitz advertising that you should invest in Turkey, as it has over 450,000 science, technology and business graduates per year, and that Theodora, a 6th century Byzantine empress, was NOT a trained circus performer and whore who rose through the ranks to seduce and marry the emperor, but in fact a devout religious minority member who was slandered by historians. Perhaps. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theodora_(6th_century) ). Deeper in the Middle East, a Saudi court sentenced a female journalist on Saturday to 60 lashes for her work on a controversial Arabic-language TV show that aired an episode in which a man bragged about his sex life (see previous blog entry). King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia has pardoned her, and is thus being hailed as a compassionate reformer and advocate of women’s right. Yes, indeed, and perhaps that can be explained to his forty-two wives. Totally unrelated, if you have not seen the YouTube video of "Achmed the Dead Terrorist”, you must watch it. It is very funny. Here is a link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uwOL4rB-go. Another wonderful advertising campaign is by the Abu Dhabi police, who for some bizarre reason are pushing their “there to protect you” message on a worldwide basis. The police? What can possibly be the reason for that? Do they have a bad reputation? Is Abu Dhabi a hotbed of anarchy and crime? It escapes explanation, but there it is. In our “Unfortunate Name of the Week” category, the winner is Mohammed Jamjoom, a CNN reporter. His name sounds like an Islamic kiddie’s treat. The runner-up is Nancy O’Karma (again, CNN), said name bringing improbable speculations about either mixed marriage or someone gone wildly astray in her search for a maharishi. Oddly enough, this does not seem to be an isolated name, there is a gossip columnist named Alexandra O’Karma. This reminds me of the old joke about how to pick your stripper/drag queen name: take the name of your first pet and add the name of your first residential street. That would make my ‘nom de strip’ Sammi Aliso. I wonder if I can pole-dance? Further east, we run into the run-off elections in Pakistan. I can only grimly smile when I think of the American diplomats and advisers who told President Karzai, ‘Listen, Karz, either you accept another election or we hang your ass out to dry.” So he grovels on Pakistani television, saying that “alleged fraud has forced him, in all justice, to hold a run-off election.” You could almost see the puppeteer’s hand up his fundament. The Afghanis are now taking to the streets to protest undue foreign influence (i.e. American) and presence on their soil. ("Vacation in exciting and ever-changing South Waziristan!”) Fine, we have decided to withdraw from your country, leave you to your fate with your own radical insurgents, and when the time comes, as it surely will, turn your nation into a vast sheet of nuclear glass because you wanted foreigners out and your own radicals in power and in control of nuclear weapons. This is all eerily similar to Vietnam, and no, I do not think it is winnable. They will never stop breeding their homegrown radicals, they will never see a bigger picture, but we, too, must accept the fact that policing the world is not an option. It is a bitter truth, but you cannot guarantee peace with war. It is as simple as that. Further east, and further . . . . Did you know that 2,000 new cars enter Beijing traffic each day? Go ahead, breathe deep of the intoxicating air of the Celestial Empire! The Mandate of Heaven is in a plastic display case in the Temple of Supreme Harmony museum, open 7 days a week from 13:00 until 13:15, reservations required. And no, do not ask, you may not see where we buried the last emperor of China, but you can see where the first emperor is buried, except it is just a landscaped mountain, because we are too afraid to actually open his legendarily fabulous tomb in case his evil spirit escapes and subjugates China once more. (That is true; they will not excavate his tomb for precisely that reason.) East, further east . . . I was recently made aware of Kpop, the South Korean phenomenon of wildly popular pop music and its reigning prince, Rain. His name is actually Jing Ji Hoon. As a neophyte, I watched his videos and must admit he is very talented, very charismatic and very attractive. Not bad at all. ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5B0XItDpSM ). He is making inroads in both the USA and Europe; we can only hope he reaps his billions before he becomes the sad spectacle that was Michael Jackson (no apologies to any MJ fans out there). I find it improbable, however, that I would ever utter, “Slip it over here, bitch.” It is not me and, secondly, Devi would most likely look at me as if I had become certifiably insane. In one video, “I’m Coming Out”, (no, not gay) he sports a pair of large white angelic wings. Well, yes, imaged enough, but were I to be rich enough to fund genetic research and modification, I would want BIG wings, and not white, but multi-colored like a Brazilian parrot, yet sparkling as if made of crystal. Of course, they would have to be functional. If I am going to fly across the skies of France on my own wings, it had better be stylish. This does not, of course, take into account the plastic surgery needed to slim me down, give me the figure of a god, the face of an angel and the laser light show and LED effects that would have to be implanted everywhere on my body. Plunging south, I found a wonderful story out of Tasmania. It seems that years ago, an elderly woman was robbed and violated by a then unknown. At the scene, police found a leech, apparently detached from the body of the perpetrator after he had swam through a swamp to get to her residence. They kept it. Now, umpteen years later, they have extracted the blood from the leech and identified the criminal. He was arrested and confessed. They are still looking for his partner. There is something quaint about the story – “Crime-fighting leech busts bloke!”, “I got sucked, I got busted!” I may have to put Tasmania on my “must visit” list.
Now, on to better things. As promised, the Grand Hierophant has finally given me the first installments of the doctrine for The Path of Totality (questions to: grandhierophant@hotmail.fr). After his words, I shall conclude with the Chapter for the Going Down to the Tribunal of Osiris from The Book of Going Forth by Day: The Egyptian Book of the Dead. The Grand Hierophant writes this:
“In understanding the complexity of imparting a body of knowledge, I have been forced to abbreviate and simplify the basic points which I wish to impart to the seekers of said knowledge. It is not useful to obfuscate the teaching with unnecessary obscurantism. The great Book is as it has always been, though prostituted by years of deformation and misuse. In order to enter the Path of Totality, I have tried to clear away the cobwebs and give the essential, esoteric meaning to the lames of the Book. Many know it as the Tarot. It is not that which you may imagine. It is not an engine for prognostication. It is a diagram, a map, for progression in this life, from this life to a higher reality. That which is given below is a sketch, if you will, of your path if you wish to follow it. It is not inflexible, it is not tyrannical. You are free to follow the path, or not. No one can force you to Wisdom, no one can force you to evolve. In a series of abbreviated descriptions. I strive to delineate the basics of how the path starts, how it progresses, how it continues. Beware always of false prophets – many promise enlightenment, but it is you who must achieve it. For the sake of clarity, the Book is divided into 5 sections; The Avatars, the Attributes, the Alliances, the Axials and the Apposites. Each will be presented separately. Start at the beginning, take what you can, study it. Come back again and again. Only by absorbing each arcanum can you hope to progress. It is not easy, it is not hard. It is simply what it is. Good journey to you all:
The Avatars
I - The Magician
Will
Letter Athoim (A) - Number 1
A = 1 and expresses, in the Divine World, the Absolute Being, which contains, and from which emanates, the Infinite of possibilities. In the Intellectual World it is Unity, the principle and synthesis of numbers, and Will, the principle of actions. In the Physical World it is Man, the highest of the relative beings, called to elevate himself for perpetual expansion of his faculties to the concentric spheres of the Absolute. The Arcanum I is represented by the Magician, an example of a perfect type of man, that is in full possession of his physical and moral faculties. He has been depicted standing, in an attitude of will ready for action. He is clothed in white, symbol of original and re-attained pureness. A serpent biting its tail serves as his belt: the symbol of eternity. His forehead is bound by a circle of gold: gold signifies light and the circle expresses the universal circumference within which created things gravitate. His right hand holds a golden scepter, implying command, which he raises towards the heavens in a sign of aspiration towards wisdom, science and strength. The index finger of the left hand points towards the ground signifying that the mission of perfect man is to reign over the material world. This double gesture also expresses the fact that human will must reflect down below divine will, in order to produce good and impede evil.
There is a cup, a sword and a shekel, or gold coin, in the middle of which a cross has been engraved, in front of the Magician, on a cubic stone. The cup signifies a mixing of the passions that contribute to happiness or unhappiness, according to whether we are their masters or slaves. The sword signifies work; struggle against obstacles and the trials that pain makes us suffer. The shekel, symbol of determined value, portrays aspirations realized, completed works, the sum of power conquered by will's perseverance and efficiency. The cross, seal of the infinite that marks the shekel, announces the future ascension of this power to the spheres of the Future.
Remember that man must act, like God, without pause. To want nothing or to do nothing is no less grievous than to want or to do evil. If the Magician appears among the prophetic signs, he is announcing that strong will and faith in yourself, guided by reason and love for justice, will lead you to the objective you want to reach, and will preserve you from danger on your way.
II - The High Priestess
Door to the Occult Sanctuary - Science
Letter Beinthin (B) - Number 2
B = 2 and expresses, in the Divine World, knowledge of the Absolute Being, which embraces the three terms for all manifestations: the past, the present and the future. In the Intellectual World it is Binary, reflection of Unity and Science, perception of visible and invisible things. In the Physical World it is the female form of Man, uniting herself to him to complete an equal destiny.
Arcanum II is represented by a woman seated on the threshold of the Temple of Isis, between two columns. The column to her right is red: this color signifies a pure spirit and numinous ascension above matter. The column to her left is black and stands for the night of Chaos and imprisonment of an impure spirit in the bonds of matter.
The woman is crowned with a tiara surmounted by a crescent moon, and a transparent veil falls over her face. A solar cross hangs from her neck and an open book, half covered by her cloak, lies on her knees. This symbolic ensemble personifies Occult Science waiting for the initiate on the threshold of the Sanctuary of Isis in order to tell him the secrets of Universal Nature. The solar cross, like the Indian lingam, signifies fecundity of matter by the spirit; it also expresses, as the seal of the infinite, the science that comes from God and that has no borders, like its source. The veil around the tiara and falling over her face announces that Truth avoids the gaze of profane curiosity. The half-hidden book under her cloak signifies that mysteries are revealed only in solitude to the sage absorbed in silent contemplation in the full quiet of himself.
Remember that the spirit lights up seeking God with the eyes of Will. God has said: "Let there be light!", and light flooded space. Man must say: "Let Will show itself and let Good come to me!" If man possesses a healthy will, he will see Truth shine again and, led by it, will reach the good to which he aspires. Knock resolutely at the door of the Future and it will be opened; but reflect long over the way you are about to walk. Turn your face towards the Sun of Justice, and the Science of Truth will be given unto you. Keep quiet about your plans, so as not to free them for contradiction by men.
III - The Empress
Isis/Urania - Action
Letter Gomor (G) - Number 3
G = 3 and expresses Supreme Power in the Divine World, balanced by eternally active Intelligence and absolute Wisdom. In the Intellectual World it is the universal fecundity of Being. In the Physical World it is Nature at work, the seed of the actions that blossom from Will.
Arcanum III is portrayed by the image of a woman seated in the center of a radiant sun; she is crowned with twelve stars and her feet rest on the Moon. She personifies universal fecundity. The Sun is the emblem of creative power; the starred crown symbolizes, with the number twelve, the Houses or stations that this heavenly body travels from year to year around the zodiacal circle. This woman, Celestial Isis or Nature, holds a scepter surmounted by a globe; this is the sign of her perpetual action on things that have been, or will be, born. In her other hand she holds an eagle, symbol of the heights to which a spirit can rise. The Moon placed under her feet portrays the inferiority of Matter and its domination by the Spirit.
Remember that to affirm what is true and want what is just is already to create; to affirm and want the contrary means to devote oneself to destruction. Hope for success in your undertakings, provided that you know how to unite fecund activity to rectitude of spirit that makes works flourish.
IV - The Emperor
The Cubic Stone - Realization
Letter Dinain (D) - Number 4
D = 4 and expresses the perpetual and hierarchical realization of the virtualities contained in the Absolute Being in the Divine World. In the Intellectual World it is the realization of the ideas of the contingent Being thanks to the four-fold work of the spirit: Affirmation, Negation, Discussion and Solution. In the Physical World it is the realization of the acts directed by the Science of Truth, Love for Justice, Strength of will and Work of the organs.
Arcanum IV is represented by a man wearing a helmet with a crown. He is seated on a cubic stone. His right hand holds a scepter aloft and his bent right leg rests on the other in the form of a cross. The cubic Stone, the figure of a perfect solid, signifies the completed human work. The crowned helmet is the emblem of strength that has vanquished power. This dominator is in possession of the scepter of Isis, and the stone that serves him as throne signifies matter dominated. The cross traced out by the position of his legs symbolizes the four elements and the expansion of human power in all its senses.
Remember that nothing resists steadfast will that has the science of truth and justice as a lever. To fight to ensure realization of them is more than a right: it is a duty. The man who triumphs in this struggle is only carrying out his terrestrial mission; he who succumbs, dedicating himself to it, acquires immortality. The realization of your hopes depends on a more powerful Being than yourself; try to get to know it and you will obtain its support.
V - The Hierophant
Lord of the Arcana - Inspiration
Letter Eni (E) - Number 5
E = 5 and expresses Universal Law, ruler of the infinite manifestations of the Being in the unity of substance, in the Divine World. In the Intellectual World it is Religion, the relationship of the absolute Being with the relative Being; from the infinite to the finite. In the Physical World it is aspiration communicated by the vibrations of heavenly fluids; it is the proof of man in front of Liberty of action, in the unbreakable circle of Universal Law.
Arcanum V is depicted as the Hierophant, master of sacred mysteries. This prince of occult doctrine is seated between two columns of the Sanctuary. He is leaning on a three-barred cross and is tracing the sign of silence on his breast with the index finger of the other hand. Two prostrate men lie at his feet, one dressed in red, and the other in black. The hierophant, supreme organ of sacred science, represents the genius of good inspirations of the spirit and the conscience; his gesture invites one to concentrate in order to hear the voice of the heavens in the silence of the passion and instinct of the flesh.
The right column symbolizes Divine Law; the left one, the freedom to obey and disobey. The three-barred cross is the emblem of God penetrating into three worlds, in order to make all the manifestations of Universal Life flower. The two prostrate men represent the Genius of Light and the Genius of the Dark, both of whom obey the Master of the Arcana.
Remember, before saying whether a man is happy or unhappy it is necessary to know what use he has made of his will, since every man creates his life in the image of his works. The Genius of Good is to your right and that of Evil to your left; their voice only extends to your conscience: absorb it and it will reply."
And now for the excerpt from the Egyptian Book of the Dead:
Chapter 124
Chapter for going down to the Tribunal of Osiris
My soul has built an enclosed place in Busiris, and I am flourishing in Pe; I plow my fields in my own shape, and my dom-palm is that upon which Min is.
What I doubly detest, I will not eat; my detestation is feces, and I will not eat it. I will not consume excrement, I will not approach it with my hands, I will not tread on it with my sandals, because my bread is of white emmer and my beer is of red barley. It is the Night-bark and the Day-bark which bring it to me, and I will eat beneath the branches, for I know the bearers of what is good. Then I will recite glorifications of the White Crown, and I will be raised aloft by the uraei. O you door-keepers of Him who pacified the Two Lands, bring me those who prepare offerings and let the branches be raised for me; may the sunshine open its arms to me, may the Ennead be silent when the sun-folk speak to me. May I guide the hearts of the gods, and may they protect me, may I be mighty among those who suspend themselves on high. As for any god or any goddess who shall oppose themselves to me, they shall be handed over to those who are in charge of the year, who live on hearts, while the preparation of Senu-bread is before me; may Osiris eat it when going forth from the East, may it be allotted to those who are in the presence of Re, may it be allotted to those who are in the presence of the Sunshine-god who covers the sky among the great ones who belong to it.
Place bread in my mouth; I will go to the Moon-god, so that he may speak to me, that the followers of the gods may speak to me, that the sun may speak to me, and that the sun-folk may speak to me. The dread of me is in the twilight and in the Celestial Waters which are his on his forehead; I am there with Osiris, and my mat is his mat among the Elders. I have told him the words of men, and I have repeated to him the words of the gods. My spirit comes equipped, for I am an equipped spirit and I have equipped all the spirits.
Please do not forget to take the poll at the bottom of the blog. (Just hit “end” and you will be taken there.) Until the next,
Leducdor
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