Dear friends, beautiful and happy people,
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
Last Sunday was May 3rd, and it occurs to me that the password for the Gnostic Mass I celebrated on this same date, in the Year Vvii (2021 e.v.), was Tell Them Sir Shumule Is Here.
I also remember that the Agape following the ceremony was somewhat chaotic, because a wonderful woman named Caroline (my existence is littered with Carolines) saw fit to remind everyone at the table, in front of the whole gathering, of the amusing circumstances of our first meeting.
This had taken place a few years earlier at a party where I was simultaneously flirting with two superb girls, one at each end of the room.
The back-and-forth eventually became exhausting, so I finally brought them together, slipped an arm around each of their waists, and exclaimed: “I want to be with both of you!” To which Caroline replied: “But… we’re sisters!”
Those were the good times.
Dear friends, last Sunday’s Holy Reading was Liber LXV: Liber Cordis Cincti Serpente sub figurâ אדני, Chapter 5, verse 65, and Liber Liberi vel Lapidis Lazuli Adumbratio Kabbalæ Ægyptiorum sub figurâ VII, Prologue, verses 1 to 3.
65. So also is the end of the book, and the Lord Adonai is about it on all sides like a Thunderbolt, and a Pylon, and a Snake, and a Phallus, and in the midst thereof he is like the Woman that jetteth out the milk of the stars from her paps; yea, the milk of the stars from her paps.
Commentary: This enumeration of threatening phallic symbols, followed by the image of a woman in her symbolically “masculine” function (powerful jets of white milk), curiously refers to the invariable and ritual cross-dressing of the hyper-virile hero found in all Traditions: in the North, Thor at the court of King Thrym; in Greece, Achilles among the daughters of Lycomedes (or Heracles with Queen Omphale); in Japan, Yamato Takeru among the Kumasō, etc.
The Arcane is that which is personified by Týr in the Edda: rigor encloses energy in order to transform, through channeling, the vain outpouring of Chesed into vigorous martiality.
Military discipline and ascetic discipline are the most obvious illustrations of this Mystery — which is also why geniuses only marry bitches and Sir Shumule only crushes on Cancer natives.
(During the blessed hours of our dear Abbey of Thelema, a Frater who was pestering me to receive one of his childhood friends who was “astrologically challenged” asked me what the “special cases” were that, according to our Rule, justified an exception to the prohibition on receiving a Cancer native. I replied: “Sofia Vergara, Margot Robbie, Michelle Rodriguez, Selena Gomez and Ariana Grande.”)
Finally, let us not forget: The Prophet (blessing & worship to him) identifies the Woman-with-the-Triumphant-Breast spoken of in this verse with our august Queen Nuit.
Now, it is our august Queen Nuit who is designated by the first Hé ה of the Holy Tetragrammaton.
The letter Hé ה rules, on the Tree of Life, the Path of Aquarius ♒︎, which connects Chokhmah to Tiphereth.
This Path is, in the runic plane, signed by Berkano ᛒ.
The Book of the Heart Girt with a Serpent thus ends on a fundamental Shumulism:
“Berkano = Boobs”
Amen.
***
Prologue of the Unborn
1. Into my loneliness comes —
Commentary: Of this verse, the Prophet (blessing & worship to him) says:
“‘loneliness’, i.e. of the Babe of the Abyss.”
Now, the Babe of the Abyss is the spiritual level corresponding to Da’at and the sign of Cancer, which brings us back to:
1. Bitches with arrogant boobs.
2. Da’at Darling.
3. The fact that, Cancer being the feminine sign absolutely, “into my loneliness comes” can be heard in many ways… #CumIntoMyLoneliness
Note that Frater Alion (aka Frater 273) interprets “loneliness” as an allusion to the Hermit, which is complementary: the absolutely seminal.
The initiatic Grade corresponding to Virgo is Ipsissimus: the Babe, image of the One (ipseity, i.e. loneliness), is found everywhere present, even to the furthest confines of the low end (♋︎).
The verse can then be read in the other direction: Jonah, in the whale, at the height of anguish and restriction, intoning his hymn: “In my distress I called upon the Lord, He answered me; from the belly of Sheol I cried out, You heard my voice,” etc.
But that is not a very Thelemic attitude — and to all the “servants of the Star & the Snake” (AL II, 21), I say this: if you find yourself in the belly of the whale, like Jonah or Pinocchio, stand up through its blowhole as if it were the sunroof of a limousine, raise your arms and shout: “Wahoooouuuuuuuuuuhhh!!!!”
2. The sound of a flute in dim groves that haunt the uttermost hills.
Commentary: In Hebrew, flute is חליל, gematria 78, which is the number of cards in the Tarot and the numerical value of Mezla, the direct Connection of man to GOD, the Influence of the Superconsciousness on Consciousness via the Path of the Priestess.
‘The Piper’s calling you to join him!’
3. Even from the brave river they reach to the edge of the wilderness.
Commentary: If we interpret the symbol of the river as psychologists interpret it in children’s drawings (river = social norm: the interest lies in how the drawer places it), we observe that, oddly enough, we can synthesize everything we have learned from these first three verses by quoting Lao-Tzu, first among the Magi, who renounced social norms and took refuge in the wilderness:
“I seem like a newborn who has not yet smiled at his mother. I am detached from everything, as if I do not know where to go.The men of the multitude have abundance; I alone am like a man who has lost everything.I am a man of limited mind, I am devoid of knowledge.The men of the multitude are full of light; I alone am as if plunged into darkness.The men of the world are gifted with penetration; I alone have a troubled and confused mind.I am vague like the sea; I drift as if I knew not where to stop.The men of the multitude all have capacity; I alone am stupid; I resemble a rustic man.I alone differ from other men because I revere the Mother who nourishes all beings.”
If you are a Thelemite — that is to say, above all, a Lover of Nuit — and you do not feel the very clear impression that these words were written for you — what am I saying? BY you! — then you are doing it wrong.
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 12° ♉︎ : ☽︎ in 1° ♐︎ : ☉︎ : Ⅴⅹⅰⅰ.
𓄿𓎛𓂧 𓇋𓈖𓏌
