O Fortuna,
velut luna
statu variabilis,
semper crescis
aut decrescis;
vita detestabilis
nunc obdurat
et tunc curat
ludo mentis aciem;
Egestatem,
potestatem
dissolvit ut glaciem.
Sors immanis
et inanis,
rota tu volubilis,
status malus,
vana salus
semper dissolubilis,
obumbrata
et velata
mihi quoque niteris;
nunc per ludum
dorsum nudum
fero tui sceleris.
Sors salutis
et virtutis
mihi nunc contraria,
est affectus
et defectus
semper in angaria.
Hac in hora
sine mora
corde pulsum tangite;
quod per sortem
sternit fortem,
mecum omnes plangite
(Carl Orff, O Fortuna theme from Carmina Burana)
From: Ev escottSamael is, as you may or may not know, found referred to in the Heptameron, one of the strangest and most explicit late-medieval books of magic. I will not write anything more on this as anything I could say would merely scratch the surface of a bottomless abyss. When I read this book, the rosary I habitually wear around my neck snapped and fell off. Even as I write this entry, an invisible force knocks a toothbrush over into the sink.
To: realgem-at-globaldomination-dot-uk
Subject: Would Sammael simply go elsewhere, find another land to master?
She was one of those people who can disguise themselves as an object in the room, a shadow in the comer, whose presence is a delicate happening.
Early April. It is the "Reclaim the Future" party. The old showroom for black London cabs on Holloway Rd just off Highbury Corner has been taken over and turned into an immense party venue. There's a stage for bands, a few different-sized rooms with decks and DJs, there is a cinema room furnished with armchairs upstairs, and the glass-fronted showroom part has been turned into a lounge with a bar. A further labyrinth of corridors and glass-fronted offices offer spill-over space for little drug-taking circles to form. Happy chaos.
twenty to thirty deep pressed against the fence with the gate in it. Some of them are throwing bottles or pieces of brick over the fence. Beyond the fence stands a line of riot police in full robo-cop gear. I gape: they seem to have blocked off the whole of Holloway Rd, just because of our little party...
One by one, people wander off up the road, the more suspicious-looking ones being frisked as they pass the line of police.
We watch them in the street outside through the huge show-room windows, it looks like hundreds of them, go outside to shout friendly abuse at them from behind the fence and blow weed smoke in their faces. Several times, it seems like they are gearing up to storm the party or something and everything goes tense, but eventually they get bored and leave..
Towards dawn, when the crowd has thinned yet more, some music comes back on.
graffiti artists and little gangsters, the bar is free for me until I get embarrassed at their generosity and start paying... and there is even a heroin-using bearded Catholic who is meaning to take Holy Orders who sells Afghan hashish... tonight, once the K wears off, I'm a star and so is everybody else....
Because my friend The Unholy Spirit bared his soul and courageously posted a poem, I thought to attempt a poem here myself.
Encouraged by this start, I am inspired to attempt a grand epic, in the style of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner:
So far so good...
Here things peter out a bit. I am thinking of the crew disembarking... the ship's master going to the brothel to seek audience with his courtesan, to present her gifts and declare his burning love for her (would definitely work some sort of "never fall in love with a whore" type theme somewhere into there)... then something about how men have fought and killed and died and crossed oceans to bring the scents that perfume her body and the silks that drape her hips and the jewelled pendant between her breasts... and I feel it is time to stop and bow out: to the real poets.
("inferior poets are absolutely fascinating... [they] live the poetry they cannot write...")
43. But I Solomon glorified the Lord, and bade another demon come before me. And there was brought to me a demon having all the limbs of a man, but without a head. And I, seeing him, said to him: "Tell me, who art thou?'' And he answered: "I am a demon." So I said to him: "Which?" And he answered me: "I am called Envy. For I delight to devour heads, being desirous to secure for myself a head; but I do not eat enough, but am anxious to have such a head as thou hast."
44. I Solomon, on hearing this, sealed him, stretching out my hand against his chest. Whereon the demon leapt up, and threw himself down, and gave a groan, saying: "Woe is me! where am I come to? O traitor Ornias, I cannot see!" So I said to him: "I am Solomon. Tell me then how thou dost manage to see." And he answered me: "By means of my feelings." I then, Solomon, having heard his voice come up to me, asked him how he managed to speak. And he answered me: "I, O King Solomon, am wholly voice, for I have inherited the voices of many men. For in the case of all men who are called dumb, I it is who smashed their heads, when they were children and had reached their eighth day. Then when a child is crying in the night, I become a spirit, and glide by means of his voice. . . . In the crossways1 also I have many services to render, and my encounter is fraught with harm. For I grasp in all instant a man's head, and with my hands, as with a sword, I cut it off, and put it on to myself. And in this way, by means of the fire which is in me, through my neck it is swallowed up....
16. I then asked of the demon if there were females among them. And when he told me that there were, I said that I desired to see them. So Beelzeboul went off at high speed, and brought unto me Onoskelis, that had a very pretty shape, and the skin of a fair-hued woman; and she tossed her head [D: Onoskelis means "she who has ass's legs."]
17. And when she was come, I said to her: "Tell me who art thou?" But she said to me: "I am called Onoskelis, a spirit which has been made into a body, lurking upon the earth. There is a golden cave where I lie. But I have a place that ever shifts
16. At one time I strangle men with a noose; at another, I creep up from the nature to the arms. But my most frequent dwelling-places are the precipices, caves, ravines. Oftentimes, however, do I consort with men in the semblance of a woman, and above all with those of a dark skin
18. For they share my star with me; since they it is who privily or openly worship my star, without knowing that they harm themselves, and but whet my appetite for further mischief. For they wish to provide money by means of memory [commemmoration of me], but I supply a little to those who worship me fairly."
18. And I Solomon questioned her about her birth, and she replied: "I was born of a voice untimely, the so-called echo of a man's ordure dropped in a wood." [For the demon born of an echo we have an analogue in the Hebrew Bath Kol, "the daughter of a voice." In D: "I was generated from an unexpected voice which is called a voice of the echo of a black heaven, emitted in matter. (meaning uncertain)"]
19. And I said to her: "Under what star dost thou pass?" And she answered me: "Under the star of the full moon, for the reason that the moon travels over most things." Then I said to her: "And what angel is it that frustrates thee?" And she said to me: "He that in thee is reigning." And I thought that she mocked me, and bade a soldier strike her. But she cried aloud, and said: "I am [subjected] to thee, O king, by the wisdom of God given to thee."
20. So I uttered the name of the Holy One of Israel and commanded her to spin the hemp for the ropes used in the building of the house of God; and accordingly, when I had sealed and bound her, she was so overcome and brought to naught as to stand night and day spinning the hemp.
21. And I at once bade another demon to be led unto me; and instantly there approached me the demon Asmodeus, bound, and I asked him: "Who art thou?" But he shot on me a glance of anger and rage, and said: "And who art thou?" And I said to him: "Thus punished as thou art, answerest thou me?" But he, with rage, said to me: "But how shall I answer thee, for thou art a son of man; whereas I was born an angel's seed by a daughter of man, so that no word of our heavenly kind addressed to the earth-born can be overweening
24. Wherefore also my star is bright in heaven, and men call it, some the Wain [Ursula Major, the Great Bear], and some the dragon's child. I keep near unto this star. So ask me not many things; for thy kingdom also after a little time is to be disrupted, and thy glory is but for a season. And short will be thy tyranny over us; and then we shall again have free range over mankind, so as that they shall revere us as if we were gods, not knowing, men that they are, the names of the angels set over us."
[Asmodeus also appears in Tobit 3:8, and is ultimately derived from the Avestan demon Aeshma-daeva ("demon of wrath"). -JHP]
22. And I Solomon, on hearing this, bound him more carefully, and ordered him to be flogged with thongs of ox-hide, and to tell me humbly what was his name and what his business. And he answered me thus: "I am called Asmodeus among mortals, and my business is to plot against the newly wedded, so that they may not know one another. And I sever them utterly by many calamities, and I waste away the beauty of virgin women, and estrange their hearts."
23. And I said to him: "Is this thy only business?" And he answered me: "I transport men into fits of madness and desire, when they have wives of their own, so that they leave them, and go off by night and day to others that belong to other men; with the result that they commit sin, and fall into murderous deeds." [D: I spread (or, I *sting to ?) madness about women through the stars, and I have often committed a rash of murders.]
24. And I adjured him by the name of the Lord Sabaôth, saying: "Fear God, Asmodeus, and tell me by what angel thou art frustrated." But he said: "By Raphael, the archangel that stands before the throne of God."
129. And when I answered that I would on no account worship strange gods, they told the maiden not to sleep with me until I complied and sacrificed to the gods. I then was moved, but crafty Eros brought and laid by her for me five grasshoppers, saying: "Take these grasshoppers, and crush them together in the name of the god Moloch; and then will I sleep with you." And this I actually did. And at once the Spirit of God departed from me, and I became weak as well as foolish in my words. And after that I was obliged by her to build a temple of idols to Baal, and to Rapha, and to Moloch, and to the other idols.no punchline at the end here, just a rambling digression. i don't even know why i wrote this. i keep changing it. you see what i've done, though. young beautiful.
130. I then, wretch that I am, followed her advice, and the glory of God departed from me; and my spirit was darkened, and I became the sport of idols and demons. Wherefore I wrote out this Testament, that ye who get possession of it may pity, and attend to the last things1, and not to the first. So that ye may find grace for ever and ever. Amen.
...
(painted on my eye the impenetrable blue jelly of 'this world')
Poe I think of Poe with the opium horrors groping his way to the writing table at dusk or is it dawn: 'There came to my nostrils the strong peculiar odor of moist earth.'
...
NEMA LIVE SU REVILED
On another level all this word soup has generated another presence, just as IAO generate the alifbet and just as deep structures generate surface structures. I have called the other presence tentatively God. It may not be God. It may not be another presence. It may originate from:
(1) The machine or part of the machine.
(2) My brain or part of my brain.
(3) Some physical outside source, neither machine nor brain.
(4) Some non-physical outside source.
(5) Nowhere and nothing (in the case it really is God).
(6) One of the ten combinations of (1) through (5), in pairs.
(7) One of the ten combinations of three of (1) through (5).
(8) One of the five combinations of four of (1) through (5).
(9) All of (1) through (5).
(10) None of the above.
It all operates like some think tank, where all the words, in crisp shirts (plastic pocket protector for slide rule, red pencil, black pencil, pen) confer - run around conferring - the important words forming their teams of lesser words, talking up enthusiasm for this project: 'All right, fellas, the buzzword around here today is going to be "epiphany". Bounce that idea around, examine the macro-structure, get the big depth picture. Sam, you'll be handling the theological end of this, I want to see you work nice and close with Bud's team, they're looking at the "weak force" angle. Let's get at the interface of this problem, guys. Let's state our tentative objective as the answer to "Who made you?" '
Then in the beginning was the word, only now there's too much word, its face is like a teleprompter and the answers keep rolling across, answers to questions I haven't thought of asking yet - have I? - and there isn't any way of shutting it off. Maybe my mind is doing all its thinking at the same time, maybe there isn't any 'time' here...- Bob Shairp presumably whilst trapped in limbo after being uploaded to Muller-Fokker computer tape, in The Muller-Fokker Effect, John Sladek (pp43-44, Panther Books 1972 paperback ed.)
I don't even know how the gun got in my hand
Five bullets, five names, and a contract worth 500 grand
My only apology is for what I have never done
Five bullets, five names, and my head swinging high in the moonlit sky
(Barry Adamson Whispering Streets, from the King of Nothing Hill)
Question: What is dark matter and what is it good for?
Answer: A theoretical astro-physical concept to explain the missing ghost mass in the universe.
The intangible ineffable creative intelligence of the universe is also "dark". The ghost in the machine is also invisible.
We summon dark matter. The dark matter will permeate our being and alter it, and emit dark rays. We invoke dark matter from the universal information matrix, or the non-locality matrix, and manifest it as an egg in our local space-time. We summon more dark matter.
It will reach a critical mass and collapse the structure of the space-time around it. Dark matter will then begin to pour into our locality from the outer reaches of the galaxy.
Dark matter is the medium of molecular intelligence. The creative force of "anti-entropy", the birth of ever-more complex forms, is a function of dark matter, just as gravity is a function of mass.
Dark matter acts as an attractor of wealth and fortune. Do not assume your own definitions of wealth and fortune will apply here. Dark matter attracts unpredictability (chaos contains more information). It binds and twists disparate threads. Its nature is hyper-linked rather than linear. It is the driving force of evolution. It is the material basis of intelligence and consciousness. It is the aether, it is the orgone, the chi, the prana.
We summon dark matter. We develop further the means, the rituals, the programmes and codes by which to summon more. Our ability to programme the non-locality matrix increases with the amount of dark matter in our cells, and our summonings and invocations become more powerful. The process is exponential. The effort is in a) initiating the process and b) achieving the critical mass.
Take a deep breath now. Clear your mind and listen to one or two breath-cycles without thinking. There, that's all the preparation necessary.
Now see, in your mind's eye, the glittering molecular vastness of the universal matrix, or a representation thereof. You only have to see it for a few seconds. Visualise the interstellar gulf, see the stars and galaxies spin and whirl and collapse and die; see the nebulae, the novae, the black holes, the clouds of incandescing gas spiralling down the sink-hole of the universe.
Speak – aloud or internally, it doesn't matter – but speak forcefully. "I summon the dark matter!" you can say. "I manifest dark matter! From the depths of the non-locality matrix, I call the dark matter!"
Before you, a dark egg starts forming, a floating purple-black form. See the dark matter pour from the vastness of the universe into this form floating before you.
Once you have felt the rush of dark matter in the arteries of the universe, you may turn back to more mundane things. Absorb the dark matter into your being, or allow it to disperse into your locality. Fold the universe carefully once you are finished with it. Look about you and breathe.
The process should take ten seconds, no more. You have begun the great work of summoning dark matter into our locality. Trust your intuition in these things. Dark matter actively seeks to infiltrate this reality. You will be provided with signs and instructions.
It has begun.
I’m on the inside of the circle, looking out.
Who called?
The starlight is cracked and smeared outside the perimeter,
Beings are present, but blurred.
Why am I trapped?
Why am I hungry?
Yesterday I heard the machine grinding in the depths of my ruined abdomen. It’s bolted to my spine and supported by wires riveted to the inside of my lower ribs. Sometimes it spurts corrosive waste through my bleeding rectum, to drip down my legs and burn open sores on the insides of my thighs.
I don’t even know what its function is. If I carefully pry open the cracks in my stomach I can see parts of it, cogs and wheels and valves and tubes, gurgling and grinding. I think it’s expanding, pushing steel cables down into my legs and up into my arms.
The two bones of my forearm are slowly moving apart. The flesh between them is stretching and will soon tear, and I can feel metal parts moving around inside. My hands are almost useless, now, and starting to turn blue and nerveless. What am I turning into?
There are people you don’t want to let into your home. You don’t want to eat with them, you don’t want to give them anything, to speak with them or to know them. They will grasp onto anything that will give them even a little power over you. Dealers in ill-understood energies, they are. An incautious word, a toenail paring, a secret memory, the flavour and atmosphere of the space where you live – they collect these things like a child collects toys. You will find your energies being used in nefarious and furtive magics, your karmas entangled with foreign and alien ones.
You can shoot them in the belly and knees and leave them alive to suffer. But you don’t know if that’s the worst punishment you could give them. Maybe lying for months in hospital they will finally find peace of mind, come out changed men, having found the strength and happiness within. You wanted them to suffer, but you’ve enlightened them instead.
“Decide what you want, now. Because you’re going to get it.”
I chained my bike to a nearby bull elephant and went to score a rock of crack. When I got back someone had shot the elephant for its ivory and nicked the seat of my bike.
It sounds like a big angry machine, chewing on the souls of k heads, spitting them out to cower gibbering in the corners clutching the floors. The techno is alive. It will bring you things, bring you drugs, but it doesn’t like to be switched off. It wants your energy, it wants your mind.
and the kids, the empty-eyed kids looking from the gloomy warehouse corners...
