Dirty Job

Atu XV, The Devil, Thoth Tarot

Being Saint-Exupéry's Little Prince disguised as Ming the Merciless is a dirty job, but someone has to do it. — Sir Shumule

Dear friends, beautiful and happy people, 

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. 

I just awoke from a very passionate dream featuring Jennifer Lopez, and the physiological aftereffects it left me with remind me that today we are meditating on the Mystery of the Path of Ayin—that is, the XVth and very ithyphallic Tarot card.

Indeed, I have already alluded, in my writings, to "the state of monstrous, turgid, and threatening erection in which I always find myself upon waking."

For example, I just rediscovered, in my Diary from February 2010 e.v.—yes, indeed!… I am so retrograde and narcissistic that I take pleasure in perpetually rereading my own writings about my own past… Behold, the Eternal Return! I adore this exercise, which (as masturbatory as it may seem) offers (like masturbation) the chance to reconnect whenever I please with happy memories—I rediscovered, I say, the following entry: 

I hate waking up alone, with a monstrous, useless erection. L*** has, alas, returned to Ibiza, and my rekindled fling with an ex, then re-ex, then re-re-ex, and now married, fizzled out: I didn’t know her husband had access to her voicemail, and he must have been a bit surprised to hear me sighing into it: “I can’t take it anymore, when is he leaving? Oh, your ass, your breasts, etc.” 

I was so unserious back then…

Dear friends, the holy reading for this Wednesday, the 1087th day of our Exile, is Liber LXV: Liber Cordis Cincti Serpente sub figurâ אדני, Chapter 4, verses 2 to 5. 

2. Even as on the resounding wind-swept heights of Mitylene some god-like woman casts aside the lyre, and with her locks aflame as an aureole, plunges into the wet heart of the creation, so I, O Lord my God! 

Commentary: This verse is generally considered an allusion to Sappho, and that doesn’t bother me: I’m in favor of same-sex marriage as long as both girls are hot. 

3. There is a beauty unspeakable in this heart of corruption, where the flowers are aflame. 

Commentary: Let us also strive to wrap our internal corruptibility in a certain formal beauty.

It always reminds me of that very beautiful, very elegant, very Bordeaux-born young woman I once dated, after approaching her at an ultra-posh party with the line, “Girl, you’ve got an ass that could wake the dead!” 

I can still see her insisting, later, when introducing me to her parents, that when they asked, “How did you meet?” I stick to talking about love at first sight! 

Those were the good old days! :) 

4. Ah me! but the thirst of Thy joy parches up this throat, so that I cannot sing. 

Commentary: Did you know that in ancient Western European lore, the name Pantagruel— which Saint François Rabelais (may his merits protect us) gives to his depiction of the ideal Thelemite—was the name of the demon of Thirst? 

5. I will make me a little boat of my tongue, and explore the unknown rivers. It may be that the everlasting salt may turn to sweetness, and that my life may be no longer athirst. 

Commentary: If you had drawn this verse in a bibliomantic context and asked old Chioa Khan for an interpretation, I would have told you this: 

Thirst is a reminder of our mission to transfigure reality. 

A glass of pure, clear, ice-cold mineral water can thus, even for a drunkard of my caliber, become, in hot weather, an ecstatic nectar, to be savored and enjoyed with as much care as a great vintage. 

Meditating on this, go forth, dear friends, under the protection of that spiritual sphere whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere, which we call GOD.

Warm kisses from the Bahamas.

Love is the law, love under will.

— ☉︎ in 6° ♈︎ : ☽︎ in 24° ♒︎ : ☿︎ : Ⅴⅹⅰ.