Sometimes, nothing is above, everything is below: seek!
— Paracelsus
Dear friends, beautiful and happy people,
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
I received, in response to yesterday’s post, an email from a reader who quotes Mishima (which immediately puts him very high in my esteem) and Cioran (which brings him back down to more realistic proportions) — The message was so energetic, so overflowing with will-to-live, that at first I thought I was being sent a challenge or a new summons.
In reality, “Baron von Ungern” (that’s how my correspondent signs himself, though I believe it’s a pseudonym) essentially asks me which of my blog posts he should read as a priority (sic) in the “extremely dense body” (sic) of my work, in order to get a “healthy” (sic) idea of Thelema.
Since I only write in the hope of seducing — through the turgid penetration of my enormous intelligence — my Divine Spouse Chloé (the very archetype of the superhot badass sapiosexual chick), of annoying what passes for judges in France by promulgating the Law of Thelema from the cell where they locked me up for having promulgated the Law of Thelema, of filling the leisure time that detention provides me, and of making all the other Thelemite bloggers drunk with impotent jealousy through my fabulous talent, I must admit I had absolutely no idea what to reply…
I immediately referred the matter to Soror K — and Her Scarlet Highness ruled as follows:
“Tell the guy it depends on which Power of the Sphinx he is seeking:
If he wants Sir Shumule to teach him how to WILL, he must read
Parzival on MDMA: The Secret of Success in Love, War & Initiation.
If he wants Sir Shumule to teach him how to DARE, he must read
Sir Shumule’s Legendary 2023 Letter To Judge Aurélie Mahé, President Judge of the Cusset Criminal Court.
If he wants Sir Shumule to teach him how to KNOW, he must read The Tao of Cleopatra.
If he wants Sir Shumule to teach him how to KEEP SILENT, he must read Idle Dandy in a Snow Leopard Winter.
And if he wants Sir Shumule, at the height of his Hierophantic Mojo, to teach him how to GO, he must read Blue Abyss of Wine: A Twelfth Night Hermeneutic.”
There you go, dear Mad Baron. Does that suit you?
For the rest, this Sunday’s Holy Reading is Liber LXV: Liber Cordis Cincti Serpente sub figurâ אדני, Chapter 5, verses 37 to 40.
And as I reread my Magical Journal from August 2009 e.v. (the only one of my Diaries that escaped judicial seizure), I notice that at the time I had commented on this pericope (the Habibi had not yet been established back then — we were drawing at random).
I deliver these very vintage considerations to you exactly as they are:
37. O ye that are beyond Aormuzdi and Ahrimanes! blessèd are ye unto the ages.
Commentary: Ah, my darlings, you who have danced past the tedious old Persian twins of light and darkness — how deliciously beyond good and evil you are!
Blessèd indeed, for the ages shall toast you with nectar while pathetic earthlings are still arguing over which side of the bed the devil sleeps on.
38. They shaped Doubt as a sickle, and reaped the flowers of Faith for their garlands.
Commentary: By the vault of the body of Nuit! What elegant vandalism — I do so admire a soul who turns skepticism into haute couture for the spirit.
39. They shaped Ecstasy as a spear, and pierced the ancient dragon that sat upon the stagnant water.
Commentary: Oh, the sheer erotic poetry of it!
They forged raw Ecstasy into a thrusting spear and ran it straight through that hoary old dragon lounging on its puddle of mediocrity — what a magnificent, wet, writhing climax!
Stagnation slain in one glorious thrust — I feel positively invigorated just reading it.
40. Then the fresh springs were unloosed, that the folk athirst might be at ease.
Commentary: And lo, after the dragon’s death-rattle, the sweet fresh springs burst forth in ecstatic release so that all the parched little souls might finally drink deep and sigh with relief — how perfectly generous, how orgasmically liberating!
One almost wants to raise a glass (or several) to the quenching of divine thirst — bottoms up, my thirsty friends, the water of life is flowing and it tastes like victory and sin in equal measure.
Meditate upon this, dear friends, and go your gorgeous ways under the protection of that spiritual sphere whose centre is everywhere and circumference nowhere, and which we call GOD.
Warm kisses from the Bahamas.
Love is the law, love under will.
— ☉︎ in 6° ♉︎ : ☽︎ in 4° ♍︎ : ☉︎ : Ⅴⅹⅰⅰ.
𓄿𓎛𓂧 𓇋𓈖𓏌
