Blog

Heading into the 21st century and Web 2.0 (it’s not just a buzzword, it’s not just a buzzword), I decided to try out a template that was created in the last couple of years rather than just sometime in the last decade.I think it’s beautiful, but the dark red text on the gray background is irritatingly hard to read. Light red is just lame though, really really lame.

I’ve cleaned things up over on the right too. Condensed some stuff, took out the garbage, dusted, hung some new pictures, oh, and I updated my blog list with the people I read regularly these days. SOME OF THEM DON’T POST OFTEN ENOUGH, but when they do, it’s worth it.

(Last older post for today, a tribute to my friends. Yeah, OK, maybe I did talk more about me, but it’s about THEM. This one was from back in November of ’09.)

Integrity is, in my opinion, the foundation of all relationships, whether they are with your family, social groups, spirits, or God the First Father. As I discovered painfully from the establishment of my relationship with God, there can be no foundation for any relationship that isn’t founded firmly in the truth. You have to know who or what a thing is first and foremost before you can decide if you like it, love it, or want it to be a part of your life.

In my life, I’ve had few friends. Part of that is because I moved around a lot as a child, and I quickly learned that when you move, your friends quickly forget you. You became “that guy that moved away in 1st grade,” or fifth grade, or tenth grade. The people most important to me in my elementary school couldn’t pick me out of a line-up two years later. I realized then that “friendship” wasn’t what it was cracked up to be. It’s nice, but you can always make new friends. Your old friends will forget about you, and if you pop up again, you’ll both be strangers because so much shit has gone down. There may always be a core of shared experiences to fall back on, but life has a tendency to change people, and there’s truth in the old proverb: you can never go home again.

But the things that make people really be your friends are all based on truth. If you have a relationship with someone where you have to limit what they know about you, you’re limiting the depth of your friendship. I can’t tell my boss about my occult studies, even if she understood it wasn’t Satanism. But I can talk about what happened on Dexter. We can have a level of friendship, but it can never be complete because there are some things that neither of us would share with colleagues in the Government Service industry.

And that’s ok with me. I don’t really want to be friends with a lot of people. I don’t mind being friendly with a lot of people, but my circle of close friends is small and will remain so. All these relationships are based on truth, integrity.

There are times that integrity demands discomfort. Everything that is true is not necessarily fun. It doesn’t always mesh well with what we want to believe. Sometimes we think in certain programmed patterns that leave us blind to some piece of the programming that might cause problems, and when people point it out, we want to kill them, even when they’re friends.

Since most of my friends are magicians, there’s an added element of danger to pointing out uncomfortable truths. Some of my friends are megalomaniacs, though in a mostly harmless way. I find that personality trait appealing, for some reason. Can’t imagine why.

But the problem with megalomaniacs is that we, er, they can be a little touchy. So there are times when I’m tempted to keep things to myself to be nice. I’ve learned that it doesn’t help things at all. Eventually I get so annoyed it comes out anyway, and seldom as peacefully as it could have been had I said something earlier.

My problem is tact. I don’t have a lot of it. I can, sometimes, but when it comes to magical things, I tend to be a bit of a dick. I’d blame usenet, or Golden Dawn Yahoo Groups, but the truth is, I was always like this when it comes to spiritual things. I’ve been a Crowned Child (code for Brat Prince) in spiritual matters since I first learned that Jesus Christ died on a cross for my sins. I mean, if the earthly manifestation of the freakin’ LOGOS that created all things by speaking the thoughts of his Father loved me personally enough to die like that so we could spend time together… .

And I’ve always heard the Voice of God. Not in a crazy way, but I’ve always had a good and close relationship with the Holy Spirit. I’ve been in tune with God’s Spirit on Earth since I was a young child, and I knew a lot more than I understood, or understood a lot more than I knew. I learned to listen to the Still Small Voice in a Bible camp in Oklahoma, and I heard it n the winds, and heard it in the stones, and heard it in the whisper of fallen pine needles beneath my boots. Sure, I forgot, and spent hard times ignoring it or drowning it out with booze and other stupid choices, but I got better. I got a lot better.

So I feel pretty goddamned privileged, frankly.

When I speak on a subject, I do so when I have had experience in it, and tested it, and discovered something about it that is valuable. I speculate on things from time to time, but I don’t offer a conclusive opinion, or present a conclusion until I’ve got some experience to back it up. As a result, I expect people to take what I have to say about some topics with a little more weight than some average guy in the street.

So I can be a bit touchy about things too. It’s pride, not arrogance though, when I do it. I’ve earned the right to my pride. I deserve it. I’ve done a lot to be proud of. It’s not hubris, and it’s not vain glory either. I know the things I’ve done so far are good, but they aren’t where I really want to be. I’m in constant danger of stagnating in the Peacock phase, and that’s not what I want to do. It’s fun here, but there’s more at hand.

These are the same traits that I value in my closest friends. Confidence in their abilities, pride of workmanship, or craftsmanship, and dedication to getting better, seeing more, being more and more themselves in every way. My friends have traveled the world in pursuit of spiritual insight, or painstakingly delved into the Secrets of the Grimoires, or demonstrated their beliefs in active cultural ministry. My friends are leaders, and when they speak on a subject, I listen carefully.

Integrity is the foundation of these relationships. They demonstrate the integrity of their beliefs in the actions of their lives.

I’ve got some pretty awesome friends.

(Another old post, from back in August of 2009, before recent events. Interesting to me, maybe to you, to see where I was from where I am. I was doing a lot of Work with the Lemegeton’s Goetia at the time. Kinda shows.)

Recent stupidity has me wondering about what the best option is. I look at this stupid world and the stupid people in it, the intellectuals debating, the middle class clashing at rallies, the lower class getting blown to bits as the ideologies work their way through society, and as a magician I’m faced with this question: What am I supposed to do with it?

Being moderately illuminated, having done the Work to refine my sphere and get in touch with God, am I supposed to try to bring my insight and understanding to the world and make it a better place by getting political and shit? I see what happens to people who do that. Even if I took over the world and instituted a Hermetic Illuminist global utopia, I’d still fuck something up and some people somewhere would get screwed and want to kill me and take over. Or some member of my government would stage a coup, or I’d turn into some insane despot who burns the feet of my nation’s soccer team if I don’t think they ran fast enough. The human brain is deficient. No sensible person would want the responsibility of running a planet, which leaves it in the hands of the senseless.

Should I just write about what I think and hope it makes a difference? Like I said, people who discuss things on an intellectual basis end up starting ripples that move throughout society, eventually ending in some mother weeping by a closed casket because the corpse of her baby doesn’t have enough face left to have an open casket funeral. If I advocate Judeo-Christian ethics, am I innocent of the death of the abortionist shot by the pro-life zealot? If I advocate a woman’s right to choose, am I innocent of the death of unborn children? There are real life consequences to writing about what I think. I may not be Manson telling Tex Watson to launch Helter Skelter, but I might end up being a part of what influences someone to do something insane.

Voltaire’s solution from Candide appeals to me, tend my own garden, address the issues that arise in my own sphere and resist the urge to get involved in the wars, politics, and adventures of the remote world. I could bury myself in my Hermetic Magical Pursuit of the Great Work and let the rest of you turn the planet into a living hell. But there is no escape. What right would I have to protest Big Brother sending a gov’t case worker in to monitor my diet and exercise if I do nothing at all? What right do I have to protest someone taking my children and placing them in a molesting foster parent’s care because I practice a form of Christianity most Christians call Satanic?

And my kids… I owe them more than that. I’m supposed to be getting them ready to make the best possible life for themselves when they leave the relative safety of my sphere of influence. They deserve to be able to succeed in this fucked up world to the best of their abilities. I need to equip them with the wisdom, the knowledge, and the skill to interact with the rest of you without getting themselves shot, brainwashed, or imprisoned.

The worst option I can see is just going along with it all, day in, day out, work until I can’t anymore as a wage slave cog in the machine that’s aimed firmly at global misery. The thought of just living out my life, doing the best I can and hoping things work out alright in the end is maddening. It’s like being trapped in an insane asylum where the inmates are the guards and everyone thinks they’re free.

There’s another option, and I just can’t see it. I’m blind, or drugged by the limits of the flesh to the best option, walking around in the equivalent of a thorazine sedation, where the drug that keeps me docile and non-violent is genetically engineered to be produced by the body I’m trapped in.

(Note: Still publishing old posts. This one was from earlier this year when I was a bit miffed about some political shit. I’m not starting any parties, but I’m definitely doing My Part to make the world a Better Place.)

I’m starting the Yellow Party, and I’m gonna start havin’ all kinds of Yellow Signs all over, cause it’s damned important.

The platform of Yellow Party is unique. It’s made of a rare metal called “Afraidium.” It’s yellow, and it tastes like chick-en.

Cause I’m kinda scared.

I look over at the Republicans who deregulated corporations to the point where they could start a global fucking economic meltdown, start wars we can’t afford or pay for based on lies, and STILL BE ABLE TO GET PEOPLE TO VOTE FOR THEIR DUMB ASSES ANYWAY.  15 million unemployed Americans will work together to get the fuckers that cost them their jobs put back in power. Cause the banks, who fuck me regularly, personally, with no vaseline, are putting them back into power because Obama’s taxing the CEO’s, but not even to the level that they were taxed under Clinton. These FUCKERS don’t even want to pay anything. I look at the economic policies of the Right, and I get kinda nervous.

“I’m not a member of any organized political party — I’m a Democrat.”
Roy Rogers

I look over at the Democrats, who can pwn Congress, the House, and the White House, and they still can’t put a public option out there for us. I worked in Healthcare, they’re rolling in the money. The for profits AND the non-profits, they’re fucking rolling in BILLIONS.  I look at their leadership skills, their cooperation skills, and I get kinda anxious.

I look at the Tea Party and see a mixed bag of malcontents with the same level of organization skills as the Democrats. I see Democrats dressing up like monks and showing up at Tea Party rallies carrying signs that say “God Hates Taxes” because they think it’s going to undermine the Tea Party’s political clout. I see the liberal media turning the Tea Party into a major force with their attempts to demonize when it would have just dispersed if they’d never have made such a big deal out of it. I see racist rants in the name of the Tea Party, and I see every retard and their brother’s inbred cousin jumping on the bandwagon to push their agenda and claim it’s Tea Party doctrine, and I get kinda queasy, deep down in my cowardly guts.

I look at Obama, who could have stopped the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and didn’t. I look at how much his policies mirror and mimic Bush’s, and I’m like, wait, what? The most reviled president in living history did the same shit and was hated, but no one says anything when Obama does it except the same people who supported Bush doing it for 8 years. I look at McCain who lost all credibility by becoming a Bush Clone in the election, and at Palin who is nothing more than a beauty queen with faith in Jesus who got talked into becoming a political power, and see the hatred and hope directed at her, and god damn it, I puke a little bit in my mouth.

I look at the oil spill, the 17 approved permits to drill for oil issued since the “moratorium” on underwater well drilling went into effect, and the mine collapse, and the rampant corruption in the MSHA and other agencies that are supposed to regulate industry, I see that the administration’s been in power for 2 years and hasn’t cleaned house and is still trying to blame Bush, but there’s no excuse, and people are buying it anyway, and I get kinda frightened.

I see my corrupt Baltimore government, the mayor who was recently convicted of stealing gift cards donated to the poor, a state employee doing time for sexual assault of a minor taking sick leave and having his bosses cover for him so he can keep his job, a cop not charged for raping a minor, and I get kinda pissed.

No one here gives a shit, no one on the ballots is going to make a difference, no one is going to do the hard thing and fix the problems. No one is going to pull the teeth of corporate leeches, no one is looking out for the middle class, no one is muzzling Wall Street, and everyone of the talking heads on the Left and Right talk shows is just loving the attention they get, and the money, and they don’t care that their bullshit yellow journalism is polarizing America.

And I’m kinda scared.

But I have a vested interest in how things turn out. This is my life they’re fucking over. And I’ll be god damned if I let my fear keep me from doing something to make the world a better place.

(In case you’re wondering, I’m going through the blog and publishing/deleting old draft posts that are hanging around. Most suck and get deleted, but some have a bit of value, like this one. I wrote a lot in the time I wasn’t publishing, I just kind of got distracted a lot.)

In The Genie Syndrome, St. B. talks about how people can slip into the mindset that their spirits are wish-granting machines, and put them into a role of a co-worker who just provides a service or good in exchange for payment, like it’s just their job or something.

That idea really makes me wonder, what kind of spirits are these people conjuring? Demons, Angels, even the Dead have a presence, a palpable sphere of influence that comes into the room, or triangle, or crystal, or whatever you’re conjuring them into, and it’s right there with you, like a being in the room.

Not physically, mind you, but spiritually, it’s there. You can’t help but know that you’re in the room with a living being. You see things, smell things, feel the temperature change in the room. The air gets thicker, or thinner.

And if you’ve got a long-term relationship with a spirit through an icon or spirit pot, or they’ve got a place of honor on your altar for Christ’s sake, the thing that physically represents your spiritual life, you’re going to have a deep relationship with that being that reminds you of its presence at the strangest times. Even astrological talismans of the Fixed Stars have a personality that makes itself known.

When you conjure spirits, you enter into a relationship with them, a relationship that goes very deep. It changes you at a fundamental level by working with them. It creates a bond, and an affinity between you and the things that are in affinity with the spirit. It’s true of spirits with necromantic affinities the same way it is with spirits with Solar, Martial, or Elemental affinities.  Repeated conjurations and interactions strengthens the bond with the spirit, and you commune with it in subtle ways all the time.

But you get to know the spirit too, and it’s a lot like a friendship. Chances are good that you know something personal about all your co-workers that you spend time with on a project. You can’t help but get to know one another over time, even if your purpose for working together is strictly business.

Even with Bune, the spirit I probably did the most practical magic with over the last few years, I never got to a point in our relationship where I could take him for granted. For every time I’d light a few candles and tell him what I wanted this time, there were many conversations, dreams and … not really training, but in a way, training that went on in between. And when he manifested the practical requests, he made sure I knew it was him. He’s got a flourish about him that is recognizable.

Is it different with other kinds of spirits than the ones I’ve worked with? It must be, if people can get into the Genie Syndrome. I just don’t think any of the spirits I’ve worked with would have put up with me thinking they were a simple sigil-contacted dispenser of desires. There are introductions that were made, explanations and planning that went on, negotiations and love songs…

Oh wait, that’s Paul Simon.

But still, I wonder. If I found I’d fallen into this Genie Syndrome, I’d take a step back and ask if I were really dealing with the spirits, or if I’d just been mumbling to myself.

Wow, man. I thought this kind of thing didn’t happen these days. A scientist killed, made to look like an accident, and over what? Billions of dollars and countless political speeches influenced by his theories and data sets, that’s what.

Embarrass me and die, fucker! Cost me billions in updates to make me environmentally sound, and DIE FUCKER!

I don’t know if it was the transoceanic corporations or political activists, or hell, it could be some dissed scientist who got no peer review because his research didn’t tow the line. I mean, scientists know science, and there’s all kinds of toxins that look like “heart attacks or embolysms” when they kill, you know?

Personally, I think I’m technically a monotheist because I believe that there is only ONE GOD. However, I’ve been told I’m really a Henotheist because I acknowledge that the ONE GOD manifests as gods and angels and demons and rocks and animals and trees and other self-aware entities on purpose.

I find it alien after all these years of Working with gods, angels, and demons of various ranks that anyone would think there’s no single unifying Source that exists within each of the other manifestations. Yet there are people who believe that Deity can only be experienced as multiple entities, that the embrace of monotheism itself somehow blinds a person to the “true nature” of Deity.

I think that’s as limiting as the monotheist who rejects all other manifestations of God as delusional or demonic. Hermetic theology is monotheistic, yet makes room for many other gods. As a result, the Hermetic student can experience the multiplicity of the many gods and spirits, and still reclaim their divine race and value that comes from remembering the Source in whose image we were made. We can develop a bi-directional relationship between the Nous and our own minds, we can participate actively and consciously as observer and observed, we can play with the sprites and fairies, the gods and goddesses, and still maintain a unified existence within and as a manifestation of the Good.

We aren’t limited to the forms and structures that happen to define “us” and “not us.” We can see, from a unified perspective, that all that interacts does so in time to a tune that began long before we were born and will continue long after we’ve moved on. Insisting on limits to anything can only result in limitation.*

The point of Neo-Platonism and Hermetic magic is to understand who we are, and what it means to be made in the image of The Divine. Divinity is One, and it cannot be understood if the perceiver insists otherwise.

*This is, unfortunately, a “lesser truth.” With Greater Truths, the opposite is also true. Insisting on “no limits” by itself does not result in “no limitation.” It does, however, lead (more often than not) to methods of transcending limitations.

The Green and White Work courses will be launching this Friday. For a brief overview of the courses and to sign up, see this link.

Note that if you were interested in the Black Work course, you can still sign up. I won’t be closing enrollment until Friday due to some personal requests received offlist.

Lesson 1 is available at the Black Work yahoo group.