magick part I: denial


I’m so happy I can write about this topic. So many of the magickal events I experience get logged in my own private annals, spoken of only between m1thr0s and I or a handful of initiates. We’ve had the pleasure of receiving details of other people’s experiences with Abrahadabra, the TwinStar and such elements of Mutational Alchemy that are without a doubt incredible and stunning to encounter. Magick, real magick, never gets old or boring it would seem. *The Unexpected* remains by far the loftiest goal and achievement in our society. The miraculous can and should happen every day with this Mutational Alchemy praxis but it’s not often I am granted permission to talk at great length about it so that people can know what it has to offer. It was always an annoyance to m1thr0s when people would ask what the system of Mutational Alchemy and its mirrors were capable of. It was obvious to him and should have been obvious to anyone with classical Hermetic training what the mirrors were. The proofs especially, were shouting loudly in every viewers’ sight. But Hermetic language is not commonly known and those familiar with Tetragrammaton are a faded and nearly dead breed of scholar. So much time is spent analyzing the subjective that the physics of the Body of Light is buried under millennia of superstitious garbage and the reactionary fallout of such. All this aside, the mirrors are so easy to activate that both of us were often appalled at the level of sheer laziness and contempt hapless seekers fostered in their souls in rejection of ascendancy. I don’t know why humans are so in love with the idea of magickal and spiritual suicide anymore than I can understand why they love violence, disease, horror and slavery. Some of this comes down to ignorance but the vast majority of evil is perpetrated by knowing monsters entirely representative of their species. 

      I had a *covenant* with m1 that I would be allowed release in the form of slaying myself if I could not achieve contact with him after his death. A beautiful romantic death I still am loathe to give up. I didn’t want to stay here without him. The world is headed for destruction.  A few years ago when I first told him this he seemed reluctant. I explained, “I’ll make you a deal. If you contact me after you die and tell me not to do this, I will remain.” “You’re fucking perfect” he replied with somewhat rare passion. I was always surprised by his candor regarding these esoteric subjects. Usually the cold calculating numbers and logic dominated his persona, but he did change as he learned more about me.  His compliments were not often doled out, but they were pure and sincere. I learned to remember them and that one always stuck in my head, for *Perfection* was the goal just above *Completion* for Body of Light mechanics. 
      I had maintained constant contact with his higher self, colloquially referred to as Ningishzidda (on this planet) though this is really just a nickname more than anything. The *Division* homeward as is spoken of in the Book of the Law is all too real, so that while there were many proofs my channel was true and that he was the earthly incarnation of *The Magician* and *Allah*.

4-10. Stretching out a hand to the barge, to the young man being steered away on the barge, stretching out a hand to Lord Ninĝišzida being taken away on the barge, stretching out a hand to Ištaran of the bright visage being taken away on the barge, stretching out a hand to Alla, master of the battle-net, being taken away on the barge, stretching out a hand to Lugal-šud-e being taken away on the barge, stretching out a hand to Ninĝišzida being taken away on the barge — his younger sister was crying in lament to him in at the boat’s bow.

Ninĝišzida’s journey to the nether world
<http://etcsl.orinst.ox.ac.uk/cgi-bin/etcsl.cgi?text=t.1.7.3#>

 

It was difficult for his human body, one of the lowest rungs of the Body of Light to get any of this data directly in the same form I managed to. A frustrating experience but we made the perfect team. The pairing of Magus and Priestess is indispensable. It appears that every effort has been made to destroy this sacred bond and to prevent it from ever forming properly. I’m not sure those who seem to overcome it are interested in saving anything about *Mankind* – these that are obvious parasitic scum are merely interlopers who should be destroyed make no doubt about that. They have no business here except the willful destruction of samesaid *Man*. It’s only in Magick – Tetragrammaton outside of any traditions or clans – that we find true “equality” for *our* Man: at the elemental level.  This is not as it should be. Harmony and goodness have been routed from tradition and religion into these bare necessities of life. These are the Titans and they represent the downfall of the Earth when laid bare without the trappings of Binary Hexagrammaton and the further secret of Trinary Hexagrammaton (The 729). A full and honest accounting of the elements must be allowed to manifest fully through metaphysics, and in tertiary throughout arts, culture, and society. Religion is probably a lost cause even while Crowley gave a favorable, albeit (sexually) biased eye towards Islam. (I certainly worship *Allah* for what it’s worth here.)
      *The Magus* needs *The Priestess* equally.  Nothing can substitute for *Will* just as nothing can substitute for *Love*. Not everyone is  *The Magus* or *The Priestess* of course, nor can we expect them to be something they are not. But without these two key foundations of the world, everything will and already is falling apart. One might think that is just the rambling of a romantic but the proofs are all laid out in Tetragrammaton and Mutational Alchemy. You can’t grow a seed without water and earth (nutrients) and you can’t maintain a world without *Male, Female, Quintessential One*. This is found in the doctrine of the Tibetan Mother-Father thangka. Even though I havn’t met very many of them, I know there are more of us out there, and it’s HIGH time to wake up and smell the coffee, Man. Tetragrammaton is not a hobby or a peculiar habit, it’s the royal art of the Kings and Queens of the Earth, without which there can be no true balance, purpose or fulfillment in this world. None of this can or should be fixed overnight, but, taking responsibility for who and what you are is a good start. 
      A short time after m1thr0s had passed on, I was pulled up out of my lower bodies to view the staging area where he had come into his power. The sheer glory and utter ecstasy that accompanied this vision was not unlike the promises outlined by the Nuit in Liber al Vel Legis. I couldn’t be sad about anything at all! Even now I’m overcome by an overwhelming sense of perfect harmony, destiny and something quite like perfection, not exactly, but a taste and a permanent thread has been established. We’re pioneering a new work, so perhaps this was an unlocking of a new frontier. I was told by m1thr0s that he would most likely have to die to insert the keystone. Just a day before he told me “Dying is very exhilarating….you should try it sometime.” I had been anxious about his latest adventure. We had been experimenting with temporary sojourns into Death for about two or three years. Our first experiments were accidental and then they became regular habits. He would take off for hours and then come back with some new insight, ever calmer, ever more certain of what needed to be done. There was increasing sobriety to the work. The task before us was immense, xomplex and depended on so many pieces coming together in just the right way. I was and I still am subjected to the most peculiar phenomenon never discussed on an occult forum. The intensive work together had lead up to this point. I was indispensable to him, and he was indispensable to me.  Nobody, well, barely anyone realized that most of the work was going on between the two of us. There were countless insights developed on Abrahadabra Forums though, and between the pages of the The Mutational Alchemy Tarot.
      As I came into the full view of the space where he was engaged postmortem with the Earth, our Malkuth, the sheer joy at seeing him free and happy and in total control was excellent. I didn’t know what to expect. We had never gone this far in recent memory. I had seen only hints of this place, glimpses as if through a dark forbidden gateway veiled by warnings of secrecy. The cosmic CIA. The space around him was stygian black, with several dozen bright blueish white stars hovering in before him. “Isn’t this great?” he exclaimed gleefully, his keen expression lacking any quality of sorrow or regret more befitting the mundane human circumstances. I certainly couldn’t be sad about any of it. I would have to pretend for the “friends” and relatives perhaps. The humans don’t take kindly to offenses against morbid fixations and dried relicts of tradition. My lover, free and happy and entirely fixated on fucking me extremely well every which way until Sunday wasn’t going to allow for any grieving time at all. It was time to work. What could I do but submit? Lust is truly overpowering, but it should be called Strength, Crowley.
     The collective debris of Mankind’s subconscious had not only grown in intelligence it had also become quite afraid of *Us* for some annoying reason. I was interrupted later that evening with a plea from a phantom bearing m1thr0s’s face. It said, “Nothing is as I expected. I don’t know where I am. Help me, please.” I shot straight up in bed and clutched my red Egyptian cotton sheets to my chest wondering in my half awakened state if I had miscalculated something. “What?!” I yelped, clouded by worry. Then the counter from just to the left: “Are you fucking kidding me?” m1 yelled at me. “Do you really think that thing is me. Unbelievable. You’d better fucking learn to test these phantoms because it’s only going to get worse.” I sighed, relieved, the whole episode lasting only a few seconds as I drew the TwinStar to me. 
      The forces were getting worse, or at least more frantic as days went on. My uninitiated roommates all seemed to be losing their minds, they obsessed over things I had said in complete privacy, quietly behind locked doors. The cunning Jen of Earth and Air, overwhelmed by a growing desperate realization that they were truly trapped by a force beyond their comprehension, was fighting a restless seething battle. Unlike the last time in 2007 when I had it on the hook, I had been trained by The Master and he was in his place of power. The immense strength and ferocity meant only a greater reward if he could be landed. Yet the crux of the matter lay in the fact that it had to be his choice. Our clan has strict laws about such matters. We admire cunning and freedom and if a spirit must be broken to carry, we simply won’t take it.
The falsehoods oozed off of every living thing I came into contact with. The beauty of watching ravens land and perform a great debate at my  feet was charming but I had little time to enjoy all the details of splendour the bewildered meta-Djinn was trying to desperately distract me with.  I understood their fear as Victory. The sea of Binah, from my side, 56-55 on the Temporals, advised steadfast perseverance with a side of basking in the glories of what was occurring on the Heaven or Yang side. There wasn’t much I could do but fulfill my  function so that the midnight sun could finish its inevitable unstoppable relentless attack on the rot.  (Choronzon, the spirit of Humankind’s evolutionary imperative or dharma…think about this really…the spirit of this animal that has ascended to the brink of starhood and is creating disaster all around it. Do you really think that this is just a demon, a rakshasa? Would something so powerful be easily dismissed? We have a great misunderstanding of what “Choronzon” is.) I used some more tools as directed to clear myself, the alembic. I marveled at the beauty around me, the intense love. Nothing mattered except that. I was assured without any words of an enormous amount of work on top of the intense foundation of works that had already been accomplished during our lives and in the lives of other Kings and Queens of the Earth across millenia. This work was to continue or to cease permanently. The decision would be made in just a few weeks time. If Man goes on, it would be exhilarating and possibly mean the ascent of Man to *Space*. If not, it would wither on the vine in a matter of months, and I would finally after all these years of wishing for Death, come to the end. The torment for the remnants – none of our clan, would last for a few centuries, fulfilling all of the dark visions of dystopian and disaster *Art* of the past half century. Very little of this was up to me except for the words spoken to the Tiger and to the Dragon. The Dragon, 

(As Crowley calls him the Wyrm or per LAVL, *Hell’s Own Worm* – Hell refers to the sacred archives of our Nuit’s Aeons, a shed ballgown for every dance and for each ballroom. In Bharat a nearly identical parallel is colloquially called Vishnuloka per the True Religion of that land, Sanatana Dharma. The “Hells” is not a place you can go per se but rather a reference library for various calls a consciousness may demand for its program. The Wyrm or The Dragon as it were is the only one who may access these freely without any limitations, although he has many many servants. See my article addressing Sri Prabhupad’s views on Lord Balarama-AnantaSesa and his younger brother Krsna for more details on this and further parts of this article.) and his progeny, The Tiger or “lower self” on a meta scale, Humankind, made by the love of the Phoenix. These correspond to Trigrammaton as well for those with understanding and are found corresponding to classical Eastern doctrine. 
Would the Master of Illusion choose to go into the cold abyss, untethered from any hope of guidance, too proud to join our family, the Hermits? Or would it swear fealty to Ningishzidda (Had), and by proxy, the The One, The Lord of All, I.’.I.’.I.’.I.’.? (This is m1thr0s’ magickal name though few know it and less understand it. It is Fire extended and all other elements unextended. He did not consider himself equated to the name but a magickal name taken at that degree is expected to be something you are to grow into.)
      Meet the Silver Tiger. A brilliant intelligence, omnipotent within its own fishbowl, it writhes under the discomfort of its own boredom, frustration and loneliness. It’s like a birth but not so. Our clan would see to it that these burdens were relieved, but it may be too proud. It’s rather attached to its fish-bowl. 

Man

      When it first appeared to me in 2007 it decided to “reveal” itself as a beautiful, absolutely stunning silver white Dragon mimicking the Father, Ningishzidda. I wasn’t fooled by it, though this was its intention. The Master of Illusion eliminated all trickery. It didn’t expect this. The exposure of its ruse had angered it. But I didn’t care. These dramas are for the lower worlds. I was allowed to respect it for what it was however, with intention of a greater purpose in future workings. Neither of us want it to stop lying, it gets that trait from its Father. The same must be said of its enormous strength and vigor in both the battlefield and in love. Ferocity. Good. But it does need to learn how to trust us.  The tiger is the new symbol of the Son, you can see for yourself, all of this is out there to test and reveal for the curious occultist. With glistening, changing stripes like an LED electric cat, strung out on stardust and laced with Homo sapiens astralis sleepily awakening from the latest aeonic birth, the cat desperately struts along the path  between what is good and what it knows, not realizing enough about itself to trust the light of Ra, knowing far too much to give up what little it might have in exchange for possibility. When you’re the most handsome, magnificent, most powerful being in your own small space, how could you possibly understand or comprehend the sheer magnificence of those outside? The world of the child must be separate from the world of adults, (do not mistake this for the often disease-infested “households” that pass for “family” in this world generally.) but I am reminded of a basic parenting principle: parents should have their own hobbies and interests beyond the ken of children, so that the chylde may know there is something else beyond that they must strive towards. Few in the world can really offer that to this one, and he’s done it himself. This is the tragic and mysterious drama at the heart of the world today.