Baphomitras is a blog dedicated to esoteric topics through essays, stories, poetry, prose, and magical texts.
About spiritual ethics
Tuesday 30 July 2024
Draco
Friday 26 July 2024
Metacosmos, Ideas and Values
If life entails experience, does
that mean that death is not an experience, i.e., that it represents the absence
of experience? We see how the idea of the metaworld, or metareality,
illustrates the desire to attribute experience to what constitutes the negation
of experience (death). Given the unusual circumstances and the radical break
with the continuity of life’s reality, the afterlife experience is differently
shaped. It has become part of the so-called afterlife. Afterlife existence is
situated in a different reality but is in some way connected to this world, the
world of the living. This means that ancestors, though dead, in some way still
exist, remain connected with their descendants, and thus have experience.
Gathered around a mythical or totemic figure, or entity (a community founder, a
great or first ancestor, a hero, a god, or a divine messenger), ancestors,
existing in a different way, form the basis of the shared identity of a
community. The dead represent the starting point for the gathering and
collective identity of the living, which holds true regardless of whether the
dead exist in a special way or not. They have largely determined the way of
life of the currently living. This is why the cult of ancestors is extremely
important in traditional life. If we remember our ancestors, we know who we
are. In this way, the life and identity of the individual are integrated and
molded into the life and identity of the community. When life paths or the
influence of new ideas uproot people from the community, leading to its
dissolution, the question of individual identity becomes subject to change.
The idea of the metacosmos is the
first idea that humanity discovered, one that is not the product of
philosophical reasoning but rather of a certain transcendental experience. This
experience, in some way, elevated humanity from the animal kingdom. The discovery
of metareality marks the initial moment in the process of creating the shell of
the Self, the complex of Reason-Ego-Personality, as well as the vast
intergenerational sequence of identification, associations, cultural content,
mental images tied to strong emotions, and so on. We can call the beginning of
this process the beginning of history (even though it occurred in deep
prehistory), as it is quite certain that this process forms the backbone of
history.
The first seer, the explorer of the
metaworld environment, besides being confused or amazed, was also not far from
becoming delusional or carried away by the whispers of the beyond. In any case,
that first pioneer of the metaworld arena laid the foundation for the
transformation of the unknown human into the human we know today—the historical
human. Therefore, it was not work that created humanity, but a web of
circumstances, in scope and significance, situated between the concepts of fate
and chance. The historical human is thus the product of the prehistoric human’s
response to some challenges unknown (or known) to us. Specifically, in this
case, I refer to the so-called power plants and hallucinogenic
mushrooms—something that, from the standpoint of (still) prevailing morality,
seems devastating. For, when “power plants” and “magic mushrooms” are
mentioned, they inevitably evoke associations with drugs and their abuse. Thus,
it seems that what created humanity is also what destroys it. This doesn’t mean
that if we take drugs, we will become more than human or better and more
spiritual people. In most cases, we become addicts and toxics, but that also
doesn’t mean that through knowledgeable use of power plants and mushrooms, and
their derivatives, we cannot achieve certain results in our quest toward
metaworld destinations.
People made progress with the help
of the spirits of plants and mushrooms, which helped them radically change
their worldview. These experiences led them to deep contemplation and the
search for explanations to reconcile what they had encountered with the
experience of their everyday lives. In any case, it’s reasonable to conclude
that the experience with the spirit of mushrooms and power plants had a
stimulating effect on the awakening of reason, which points to yet another
paradox: that what stimulates mental activity and imagination is, among other
things, precisely what clouds them.
The second
stimulus for the development of human historical consciousness, embodied
through Reason-Ego-Personality, was careful observation, which contributed to
the emergence of analogies in the ancient mind. People observed living and
non-living nature, plants, animals, natural phenomena, and celestial bodies,
linking them into a coherent and unified system of meaning. They integrated
themselves, their community, and their ancestors into this overall system.
Thus, the universe became a complete and interconnected whole. In such a
universe, the ancient human established their place. The third factor of
development was the influence of the dreaming consciousness. Strange and
extraordinary things occurred in dreams. Therefore, there are threefold stimuli
that shape human thought, consciousness, habits, and worldview. In all this,
the human realized there was an infallible natural mechanism to which they had
to adapt for survival, which led to a particular way of acting—rational,
purposeful, methodical, and grounded in experience. This is how magic arose,
which is, in fact, a rather rational activity. Magic ensured cosmic order and
the smooth functioning of the world, securing the safety and foundation of
humanity's place within it. Magic also provided ways of communicating with
other worlds, that is, with invisible forms of existence. It provided knowledge
and thus embodied the living tradition of the community. Corruption arises when
individuals discover the allure of magical power and begin to make pacts with beings
from the other side, but that is another topic.
In
attempting to communicate his extraordinary experience to others, that first
explorer of metaspheres and magic set in motion the course of history. This was
far from smooth, as the prehistoric mode of communication was not entirely
suited for describing and conveying the experience of an abstract encounter. In
reality, the experience itself was concrete, but its placement within the
sequence of life experiences and their interpretations was abstract. Since
these people did not possess language in the historical sense, the first
awakened individual encountered a wall of misunderstanding. Through numerous
and challenging attempts to convey his unusual experience and describe the
vistas that had opened up to him, interacting with curious or concerned interlocutors,
this first cultural genius—an initiator and revolutionary—began constructing
the foundations of what would become today's cultural and civilized world. Thus
began the development of language, the emergence of logic, rationality,
imagination, magic, and religion. A cult and a corresponding mode of thinking
were born. It became necessary to describe unimaginable or incomprehensible
things and phenomena that no one else had seen or experienced, and to somehow
integrate all of this into a unified worldview. The shaman was born. Of course,
other people could have simply taken the same plant or mushroom, but we must
keep in mind that not everyone experiences profound insights. Some are chosen
by the spirits and granted true visions, while others get lost in nonsense.
The mythical metacosmos, though
interpreted differently and through various visions or direct experiences, has
always been a model and destination for religious and mystical aspirations, as
it primarily represented peace, an expression of fundamental human
yearnings—what we might call meta-peace. Let us recall that the essential human
aspirations, in a metaphysical sense, aim toward order, stability, balance, and
permanence. These are also the principles of metacosmic peace. The striving for
such peace initiated and built culture, civilization, tradition, religion, art,
and history, with the aim of serving human communities in their effort to
transform their existence from a process into a state (to eternalize it). That
this endeavor is as lethal as it is salvific is evidenced by the fact that this
architectural pursuit of human will—driven by the desire to transcend
annihilation—has called into question the very existence of the human species.
Nevertheless, the majority has always meekly accepted the gifts of fate, with
the distinction that people of traditional communities had no doubts about
their afterlife destinations as we do today. They naturally transitioned into
the world of the dead, joining their ancestors, and therefore saw no need to
undertake additional efforts to gain power in order to attain freedom; instead,
they focused on properly observing the established rituals and customs.
We who are alive today are the
result of both elevated human aspirations and all the baseness and absurdities
that have together, side by side, built history. The consequence of this dual
construction of history is evident in the structure of the modern civilizational
edifice, which is founded on dual principles, and the spirit of this edifice
is, for obvious reasons, schizophrenic at its core. Spirituality, while having
created the historical human, also threatens to destroy it. Beyond its
evolutionary potential, spirituality can also have a retrogressive,
involutionary direction, depending on the extent of distortion in dominant
spiritual systems and corresponding mental frameworks. We will seek the causes
of this state of affairs in the degenerative dialectic of the decay of all
things, everything, and everyone. The meaning of life, and thus of humanity,
has always been embodied in the struggle within the global arena, resisting the
degenerative and destructive forces of the chaotic universe. The creation always
strives for its own preservation; indeed, its form strives for this, while its
content, or the substance from which it is made, seeks liberation from the
confines and limitations of that form. The substance generally prevails, albeit
with greater or lesser resistance from the form.
Every effort directed towards a
positive fateful outcome is potentially redemptive, even if the risk associated
with such an endeavor is extremely high. Ultimately, the risk is quite
irrelevant since the outcome of life is shipwreck. If we perish trying to save
ourselves, it is a better possibility than sitting idly by, claiming that all
resistance is futile, and inevitably perishing. In the case of resistance, we
might still manage to escape. By hesitating, a human being misses the
opportunity to act, thus nullifying their own will. On the other hand, the
choice of life is not always redemptive, just as the choice of death is not
always fatal. The marriage of form and substance has a dual choice: dissolution
or transformation. The latter may involve a whole range of transformations, up
to the establishment of the ideal form that does not "frustrate" the
substance, or perhaps the solution lies in the eternal dynamics of endless
transformations (which resembles fleeing from annihilation). Thus, being can
choose one of three fateful options: dissolution—triumph of death and
nothingness; development—achieving the perfect form or formlessness; avoidance
of death—constant transformation, involution, or “redemptive” regression. The
meaning of human life corresponds to death. Whatever a person does or does not
do, it only makes sense if it somehow transcends death or serves that purpose.
This is the ethical and logical framework of human behavior from the standpoint
of metaphysical purposefulness. Only such a character of behavior and action
justifies the defiant upright position of the human being. Humans do not have
roots to stand upright, yet they do stand. This could also be seen as a call or
indication of the possibility of the transformation of human beings. People
might rise to the heights of stellar magnitudes or bow down to be closer to the
ground, restrained by the fear of separation from Earth.
The idea of the metacosm, which
represents realities beyond this reality, higher realities, true realities, or
more intense realities, points to a nature that implies incorruptibility. This
idea is primary, abstract, and indicates an intention aiming towards the
transcendental. Therefore, it is quite natural that this idea occupies the
position of the fundamental orientation of human striving. However, through its
diffusion and institutionalization over time, many customs, institutions, and
organizations have been created, often exclusive, rigid, and mutually opposed,
which generally hinder the intention of the fundamental idea they represent.
Additionally, the application of the metacosmic idea involves the derivation of
secondary and tertiary ideas, values, norms, and categories for the needs of
specific areas of cultural-civilizational activity (politics, ideology,
religion, philosophy, etc.).
The idea of the metacosm points to a
fundamental human value (the beam of consciousness), as it presupposes a golden
foundation for the emission of our everyday life tokens and currencies. Thus,
the lives of our "primitive" ancestors were imbued with this sense,
which was continually enriched with new segments of meaning, significantly
contributing to our existence today. If the lives of our ancestors had been
meaningless, as many today perceive them to be, we would not exist. A whole
series of generations worked towards this simply by living their lives. This is
the simple secret of the endurance of the human race. The lives of our
ancestors had meaning that they themselves constructed. From the perspective of
contemporary tastes, their lives might have seemed wretched and limited, but
from their own point of view, they were not meaningless. The future of a
family, nation, or humanity depends entirely on whether the lives of those who
are currently living, who are here and now, have meaning. For a person’s life
to have meaning, it is essential that the individual incorporates certain
values into it, which will be placed at the very top of their list of life
priorities.
For something to carry the adjective
of value, it must be permanent and durable. The metacosmic idea implies the
permanence of the essence of being as the basis of eternal life. Therefore,
this idea represents a token of value and ontological durability. For example,
gold did not accidentally become a universal medium of exchange and a substance
of valuation. This is due to the specific properties of gold—its durability and
rarity. The same applies to the metacosmic idea. If this idea represents value
akin to gold, then money made from less noble metals, alloys, paper, or even
digital zeros and ones, in this sense, have the meaning of derived values.
In his book Revolt Against the
Modern World, Julius Evola emphasizes that the phenomenon of the sacred, once a
question of reality and transcendent experience, has become a matter of faith
based on feeling, or the subject of theological speculation. Rare instances of
reaching the peak of purified Christian mysticism did not prevent God and gods,
angels and demons, intelligible beings and heavens from taking on the form of
myth. According to Evola, Christian Western civilization lost awareness of them
as symbols of possible supra-rational experiences, supra-individual conditions
of existence, and the deep dimensions of integral human being. He points out
that even the ancient world contributed to the simplification of symbolism into
mythology, which became increasingly opaque and more non-existent, adjudicated
by artistic imagination. With the reduction of the experience of the sacred to
faith, memory, and moralism, and to a scholastic philosophical concept, the
idealism of the spirit was almost entirely displaced by the supernatural. Thus,
ideological and religious madness prevailed, on which rationalism was later
founded.
From the perspective of the
prevailing rationalistic cult of "scientificity," the metasphere does
not exist. The rationalistic mindset would more readily accept a parallel
universe, another space-time continuum, than the metacosmos in its value-laden
sense and fullness of meaning. Ultimately, it is somewhat absurd that the
leading mode of thought in modern civilization ignores or denies something on
which the cultural and civilizational complex of today is based, namely the
metaspheric experience. The consequences of that experience, in terms of
rationalization, interpretation, application, institutionalization,
politicization, ideologization, dogmatization, acculturation, enculturation,
tabooization, profanation, fetishization, etc., encompass the essence and
framework of our way of life, worldview, cultural and social universe, and
psychosphere. If the shamanic, prophetic, priestly, and divinatory experiences
of our ancestors, as well as the psychoses and hallucinations caused by epilepsy,
starvation, asceticism, fear, shock, drink, or drugs, and the ramblings of
madmen, lepers, ambitious fantasists, and cunning manipulators, are considered
to be mere delusions, then today’s civilization, being founded on all this, is
indeed a pseudo-civilization. The wheels of this civilization, if they were not
so at the beginning, are certainly today driven by psychoses, hysteria,
(self)deception, hallucinations, and the ramblings of madmen, fools, ambitious
fantasists, cunning manipulators, and fanatical power holders.
We are witnessing an era of chronic
Machiavellianism and bellicism that wave grotesque flags of democratism and
pacifism, making the current historical situation tragically comical.
Additionally, there is a conflict between the promoters of emerging, globalizing
values and those of the more entrenched, somewhat older values, as well as a
conflict of various polarities within these currents. In this struggle, the new
values appear as forgeries, or as promissory notes without backing, based on
current power dynamics, while the old values are entirely useless and extremely
impractical. Given all this, it is time for a rediscovery and promotion of
different, and I would say, revolutionary values.
Since the metacosmic idea is the
primary orienting point in the complex of culture, its focal point, it also
serves as a guide to the purpose of culture, a guide to meaning, both for
individuals and for communities. However, despite this, the metacosmic idea is
decadent, like any material, spiritual, or intellectual creation. Due to
various historical reasons, many chains of initiation have experienced
distortions or interruptions. Consequently, many incomplete initiates or
usurpers, manipulators, in their inability to understand the metacosmic
experience, began to sacralize the idea itself. The idea, as a mental image of
the metacosmic experience which is inaccessible to most people, became the
foundation of doctrine. As such, the idea was represented by a specific symbol,
which, being suprarational, mystified that experience. Thus, the very idea of
meta-reality, or the imaginative image represented by a symbol, became a value.
While the idea could be accessible to everyone through the symbol, the immediate
metacosmic experience remained reserved only for those who could attain it, and
even that did not disappear. At the same time, vision was replaced by
imagination, immediate experience by imaginative projection, which was
attempted to be revived through special techniques, sometimes with more or less
success.
Throughout history, up to the
present day, various caricatures, distorted and unclear images, have gained
certain value and have been treated as values. Ideas that are almost impossible
to shape even in imagination or to see clearly are now treated as values, with
clumsy ideological terminology further mystifying them. Unsupported values,
spiritual derivatives, unfounded imaginative projections (fantasies), treated
as values rather than as means, constitute the material of every demagoguery,
the arsenal of cultural poisons and mystifications used to legitimize certain
social and political relations, and the prevailing social power. This power,
however it is presented, always tends to distort the meaning of concepts, and
consequently values, as it blurs the true nature and character of the social
relations it governs.
In the form of dogma, interpretation
pushes experience out of the center of the whole narrative and establishes
itself as a rational fetish. Dogma forbids experience! The statement "God
is One," among other things, represents a form of idolatry and a tool of
mystification. It is Reason admiring itself, not God. After these initial
steps, a whole series of further valuations, interpretations, and
reinterpretations arise, influenced and permeated by ideological, economic,
political interests, and personal ambitions or fears. Thus, today we have a
whole assortment of national, religious, political, ideological, traditional,
universal, and other values. For values to have that life-giving and driving
force, it is necessary for a prophet to occasionally emerge who will clearly
point out the existing corruption of current values and revive them with a new
vision, interpretation, or offer other values.
In the book Transcendental Magic,
Eliphas Levi states that to be a prophet means to be exalted and mysterious. It
means to foresee the consequence contained within the cause, while performing
miracles means acting upon the universal magical agent (astral light) and
subordinating it to one's will. Prophecies and miracles are two characteristics
that point to God in man and man in God. Therefore, if there are no individuals
to spread heavenly enthusiasm, the faith of those who cannot see, that is,
those who are unable to achieve transcendental experience, gradually
disappears, as people begin to cling to murky ideals, or to nothing at all.
Perceptive blind individuals recognize that something is wrong with the current
values and attempt to enact reform through mere speculation (with reform always
backed by ambitions and political interests), and this is done without
metaphysical support, without experience, without vision, and without the voice
of God. They engage in counterfeiting, printing money without backing. If they
succeed, the result is a revolutionary degradation of religion. Hence, any
religion without living prophets who maintain the connection between the human
and the divine is no longer a religion in the true sense of the word.
Similarly, any political order not founded on the metacosmic idea is on the
path to disintegration, as it loses its cultural and psychological core.
Once established as a social value,
something is subject to social, historical, and cultural mechanisms, as well as
the laws of the all-encompassing machinery of the fatal dialectic of this
world. Christianity originated from the exceptional charisma of Jesus Christ.
His charisma was undoubtedly greater than that of his apostles, while the
apostolic charisma surpassed that of the later Church Fathers of the early
Church. The charisma of subsequent church dignitaries, saints, monks, priests,
or neo-Protestant street and home missionaries, is incomparably inferior to the
original model embodied in the figure and work of the Christian Savior.
Therefore, in Christianity, what is older and closer to the divine model is
more valuable. The path from a direct relationship with God to the institution
of the Church or Temple is a degrading series of interpretations,
reinterpretations, dogmatic-ideological, and political maneuvers, eventually
leading to the worship or valuation of something or someone who was not at the
beginning of that series, but stood at the other end of the idea as a
contrasting perspective.
Social values, over time, transform into their own opposites, as they become distorted and lose their grounding in reality. This process necessarily involves a decline in the quality of the human material that constitutes the pillars of that idea or value. In order to gain, increase, or maintain control over essential currents of social power and the distribution of social wealth, individuals will use all available means to achieve these goals. To this end, some will instrumentalize social values, subjecting them to even more distorted interpretations and implementations. As soon as this becomes apparent, the oppressed or those who are also ambitious but from lower strata or lower levels of the current power hierarchy will naturally aim for revision, reform, or even revolution.
Values are socio-psychological projections of virtues, and virtues, as such, are tied to metacosmic destinations and aspirations, corresponding to the meaning of life and death. Values are therefore signposts that direct us toward metacosmic destinations. A signpost primarily means a symbol: a cross, ankh, pentagram, hexagram, swastika, mandala, vesica, triangle, rune of the sacred alphabet, etc. A value is a symbol, an idea presented in an abstract graphical form, a condensed piece of information expressed in aesthetic simplicity. The form of the symbol represents the most rational way of depicting metacosmic relations, making symbols better representatives of an idea than words or statements, although words are also symbols, particularly nouns. To be fully visual, an auditory component is necessary. The multitude of symbols and sounds is already the fate of culture. Too many details spoil the aesthetics and thus indicate the level of dissolution in social relations and human consciousness. Practically speaking, a symbol is a tool, a machine that a person must master before using it. Mastery of the symbol opens perspectives on what the symbol represents. At that moment, the symbol becomes the only concrete thing we have in our hands. Then the meaning of the form becomes clear. Functionally, a symbol is a means of mastering reality, a milestone. Yet, the symbol is locked, and the keys are hidden or irrevocably lost.
Monday 22 July 2024
Esoteric Psychology, Consciousness, and Reason
’The
most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind
to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the
midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage
far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us
little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up
such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that
we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into
the peace and safety of a new dark age.’
Howard
Phillips Lovecraft, The Call of Cthulhu
From
the perspective of the psychology I am presenting here, consciousness signifies
the very essence of life, or light. Everything that exists, whether as a whole
or as a distinct entity, has consciousness, or rather, is consciousness. One
could argue that this view is somewhat animistic, if we equate consciousness
with the soul, although many might disagree. The definition of consciousness I
present here is broader than the usual one, as it is primarily of an esoteric
nature. Form and extension are manifestations of total consciousness, products
of the creative synthesis of light and darkness. This means that consciousness
exists both in pure light, whether visible or invisible, and in all its
derivatives. Remember how everything that is now solid, liquid, gaseous, slimy,
beautiful, cold, or dark was once pure light. Light produced such forms through
interaction with the dark matter of nothingness. Light only became form through
its contact with darkness.
Let's
allow the possibility of the existence of some form of dark consciousness,
which represents an "ancient" consciousness that no longer possesses
a luminous aspect. This is a consciousness devoid of brilliance, whether it has
lost it or never had it to begin with. In its essential aspect,
consciousness/light is something formless and extremely abstract, almost
non-existent. In a more concrete sense, consciousness is perception. It
perceives and reacts. Consciousness is like a universal substance that is not
homogeneous but is rather particulate, simultaneously divided yet unified in
its totality. The segments of this universal substance, differing from each
other in brilliance, the amount of energy they contain, color, and shape each
projects, create the diversity and variety of embodied forms in the universe.
In a
narrower sense, consciousness is an autonomous and interactive supra-energetic
entity that forms shapes through its creative interaction with the substance of
nothingness. This is how the universe was created. Manifested light, in its
interactive symbiosis with the dark substance of nothingness, creates forms
while simultaneously generating an operational, formatted consciousness, i.e.,
content that fills and gives purpose to the given form. Thus, a being is
formed. A being possesses consciousness, the radiance of consciousness, energy,
shape, and structure. This means that every form has an appropriate
consciousness, a "soul," whether we consider it living or non-living,
regardless of its aggregate state, whether it is in solid, crystalline,
mineral, or organic structures, fluids, or energetic waves and fields.
Consciousness without brilliance, without energy, without form, is passive
consciousness. Only as a being does consciousness become active and functional
in the universe. How and why a particular particle of consciousness transitions
from passivity to an active state and back again is a different question. In
any case, given that it manifests in a universe whose imperative is the
dialectic of decadence, manifested consciousness/light is subject to those
laws.
The primary form of self-determination of consciousness in humans is reason. Reason is a mechanism based on associative chains, logical algorithms, and imagination. In the context of a cultural, symbolic, and civilizational environment of living, at the expense of an intuitive mechanism suited for a non-cultural way of life, reason has the task, supported by culture, socialization, habits, and memory, to maintain and deepen the order of the world, or consciousness. The order of consciousness is an organized representation or series of representations that an individual acquires and develops (or deepens inherited representations), which concern themselves and the orientations available for survival and navigating the world. These orientations include the subject's identity, time, space, body, society, elements of the cultural universe, etc. It is essential to have stable and clear representations of all these aspects (and many others not listed) to ensure that an individual's life (as we know it and which we all more or less play a role in) is balanced, stable, and meaningful.
In a narrower sense, reason is a process, a continuous activity of mental software. The result, but also the cause of this activity, is the sense of ego. The primary function of the ego is to act as the guardian of reality, enhancing its "realism" and persistence. However, it is evident that for the civilized person, the ego becomes an end in itself, as it represents the subject's identity, being tied to their name, surname, family, family lineage, broader community, society, nation, faith, customs, tradition, gods/God, or major identification codes. The ego has become highly valued and important in social and interpersonal relationships, thus becoming self-important and self-serving. In this way, rather than consciousness itself, the ego has positioned itself as the center of the subject, the center of being, adorned with the signs and insignias of reason and identification meant to legitimize this usurper. As a consequence, a person begins to identify with their constructed ego throughout their lifetime, which has had tragic consequences.
Thursday 18 July 2024
The Return of the Magical and the Phantasmic
The emergence of Aleister Crowley (and
immediately before him, the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn), more than four
centuries after the era of Giordano Bruno and John Dee, had a profound impact
on the return of the phantasmic in European culture. In the foundations of the
worldview of British and French occult circles of the late 19th century, tarot
played a key role. Another figure who significantly influenced the mass shaping
of the phantasmic is the cult American horror writer H.P. Lovecraft. Crowley and
Lovecraft brought forth raw content from unknown depths, like magical
psychonauts who, from distant destinations, brought astonishing and terrifying
samples of unknown worlds into our world and into the 20th century. Their
influence on our imagination is far greater than most people are aware of.
Kenneth Grant, at the beginning of his book
Outside the Circles of Time, interestingly connects the year 1947, the year of
Aleister Crowley’s death, with the beginning of widespread sightings of
phenomena known as "Unidentified Flying Objects" – UFOs. A few years
prior, nuclear bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and the city of
Dresden was destroyed by fire, showcasing the destructive power of mankind that
looms over civilization in our time. Grant compared this threat of nuclear holocaust
to the fate of the mythical Atlantis. Never before in history, or since the
presumed Atlantean cataclysm, has humanity faced such a widespread and tangible
danger as during the nuclear threat. The sinking of Atlantis, which could
theoretically be attributed to the will of God or the gods, was allegedly
caused by the corruption of its ruling caste. The looming nuclear catastrophe
is also a sign of the corruption of today's elites. Thus, we have the threat of
destruction by fire caused by the madness of the elite; we have visible
unexplained phenomena in the atmosphere; and most importantly, we have a shift
in the imagination of the masses, triggered by popular culture, which reflects
phantasmic forms shaped or evoked by great artists, writers, and occultists who
act like prophets or mediums. Their sensitive minds have brought images of
extraterrestrial locations, unknown and often frightening worlds, into the
imagination of broader social strata. Their visions, descriptions, reports,
achievements, and "astral imprints" of their actions have found ways
of embodiment through art and so-called popular culture, penetrating the
imagination of an increasing number of people. Now, more people are receptive
to emissions of phantasms, visions, voice messages, dreams, or the transmission
of consciousness content from distant cosmic points, primarily those whose
seats or transmission stations are associated with Neptune, Uranus, Pluto, and
beyond. These three planets are ambassadors and messengers from worlds beyond
the solar system, but are also the abodes of those forces that, according to
mythology, were defeated and expelled by the solar gods. There, those who were
once here, so that we could exist as we are today, were banished. It seems that
we are witnessing a return of ancient exiles, a return of ancient magic, which
heralds some troubled times.
Humanity is in a situation of projecting the end
times, but also new beginnings. The end times refer to the world as we know it,
but what do these new beginnings refer to? I would link this new beginning to
the discovery of planets beyond Saturn, primarily Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto
(although Pluto has since lost its status as a planet). It seems that these
planets do not belong to the solar system but act as embodiments of some
foreign influence. They do not have analogies in traditional systems of planetary
natures. Tradition recognizes seven ancient planets, including the Sun and the
Moon as planets. In fact, the Sun and the Moon are considered super-planets
from the human perspective, as they are the largest and have the strongest
influence. In a sense, the world on Earth and its human consciousness are
defined by the existence and influences of the Sun and the Moon, and then by
the other five planets visible to the naked eye (Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter,
and Saturn). Together, they form the seven celestial spheres, above which lies
the eighth sphere belonging to the stars. In this traditional view of the
universe, there is no Neptune, Uranus, Pluto, or anything else that might have
been discovered in the meantime. They simply stand somewhere far away, hidden
in darkness, which in itself is somehow laden with dread and ominousness, but
it does not necessarily have to be so. The traditional planetary cosmic
arrangement lasted for millennia until Uranus was discovered in 1781, followed
by Neptune in 1846, and Pluto in 1930. These discoveries coincide with the
major changes occurring in humanity at that time, as well as with the birth and
death years of many significant individuals responsible for the forthcoming
changes in human consciousness and the course of history.
Let us recall, Lovecraft, in a story written or
completed in the year of Pluto's discovery, a planet he named Yuggoth, described strange extraterrestrial and
magical beings and their colony there. In that story, he announced that this
colony from Pluto would attempt to establish a mental connection with the human
world. According to Lovecraft, Yuggoth is only one step, as the majority of this extraterrestrial
population inhabits bizarrely organized abysses completely beyond the reach of
human imagination. This droplet of spacetime that we consider the entirety of
cosmic existence, Lovecraft says, is merely an atom in the true infinity, which
is theirs. Moreover, within this worldview, non-human extraterrestrial entities
were here long before us, but they are not compatible with human consciousness,
unlike the inner planetary belt from Saturn to the Sun. The five planets, along
with the Sun and Moon, have their microcosmic analogies, whereas the outer
planets do not. However, it is not that the contents related to their
frequencies have not reached humans. Instead, they have taken on terrifying
forms through various monsters, gods, and demons. And now this boundary is
slowly melting away, with trans-Saturnian contents increasingly pressing upon
everyday human consciousness, imagination, and the realm of predominant dreams.
These contents were once repressed into the deeper universe, physically,
archetypally, and psychologically, by the victory of solar gods, to develop
historical humanity. Saturn stood as the guardian of the solar world's gates
and a kind of scarecrow, assuming the non-human contents of distant worlds and
the role of neutralizing those influences. That boundary has today been
loosened, and prominent individuals act as mediums or prophets of this return,
bringing cosmic horror.
This phenomenon accelerated at the beginning of
the 20th century, coinciding with the publication of Aleister Crowley's The
Book of the Law, and now we already have a significant phantasmal charge in the
collective imagination of humanity. In the meantime, two world wars have
occurred, there is a nuclear threat, sightings of UFOs, channeled messages, and
an explosion of irrationality in an era of rational dominance intended to seal
the old world of the Great Seven. Yet, the spirit of the time had different
plans. The forthcoming turbulent era does not merely signify a general
confusion in the state of mind and consciousness of people and their
interpersonal relationships, but it primarily represents a kind of mixing of
frequencies as an echo of the influences of different time cycles and impacts
from distant realms. Human beings are increasingly exposed to influences not
only from distant realms but also from those existing in other times. For
example, when we dream or find ourselves in a state of vision or intense
daydreaming, we are not locked within our minds but are exposed to the influx
of the boundless space and abyss of time, even beyond every space and time.
Reading H.P. Lovecraft, one cannot help but
notice a certain similarity between his view of the world as presented in his
horror stories and the perspective of Carlos Castaneda. Although Lovecraft and
Castaneda have no direct connections, they share a view of the nature of the
world into which we are immersed through the process of life. Both describe the
fragility of this world and the human position in the universe, and ultimately,
the fragility of human beings themselves. For both, the world has a deep, terrifying,
and insidious backdrop. Our world, in this sense, is a very fragile illusion,
beyond which yawns an incomprehensible abyss from which unspeakable terror can
seep into our confined reality through the cracks of the same reality we are
snugly wrapped in by our habits, opinions, and perceptions. While horror is
only tangentially present and integrated into the mechanism of his worldview in
Castaneda's writings, Lovecraft places the emphasis squarely on horror. In
Castaneda's work, the bearers of terror are inorganic beings, flyers, twisted
old seers, and generally anything related to what he calls the nagual, whose
nature is inscrutable. The very idea of the tonal and nagual, and reducing our
world to a limited tonal opposed to the infinite nagual from which terrifying
contents can always penetrate, is a significant element of horror in
Castaneda's oeuvre. Similarly, both Lovecraft and Castaneda highlight the
impotence of reason in the face of magical and supernatural forces, infinity,
the nagual, and cosmic horror. In Castaneda's work, everyday reason often
hinders the paths of awareness and enlightenment. In Lovecraft's work, reason
is powerless against the onslaughts of horror. They also share the observation
that, in times of advanced civilization, its technical and technological
wonders protect the small human world, protecting the tonal. In the story
"The Haunting of the House," Lovecraft says that his hero is
protected by high-rise buildings just as modern material things protect our
world from ancient and unhealthy wonders. In Castaneda's explanation, modern
man, surrounding himself with technology, has solidified the position of his
collective point, which is both a protection and a hindrance to the
consciousness's escape from the narrow confines of human form.
Saturday 13 July 2024
Cosmic Silence and the Noise of the Mind, Identity and Ego
The constant agitation of the mind reduces a person's inner life to
incessant noise, a monologue (or dialogue with others), and continuous
preoccupation with that mental effort. The more civilized and cultured a human
being becomes, the louder the noise (mental activity) in their head and
environment, and the more they fear silence. Mental and environmental noise
take on the role of a refuge from meaninglessness, boredom, fear, and all
warnings from nature. The purpose of mental noise, including that produced
externally by electronic devices and other people, is to instill or reinforce
the notion of a person's security in the world they inhabit. Constant cacophony
reinforces the framework of perception at one specific, stable, familiar,
normal, and tested level. The human being gladly surrenders to the chaos of
hyperactive mental and cultural content, to heightened decibels, symbols,
screens, and speakers, in order to maintain a sense of security and
self-control, surrounded not only by the horror of social reality but also by
the silence and ominous lurking of a mysterious world. This lurking shakes the
foundations of peace and mental balance, the very basis of control over
reality. Without this, however fragile, control, reality becomes distorted,
much like when we stare fixedly at something, or when we are under the
influence of hallucinogenic substances.
The claim that
humanity has conquered nature actually refers to its arrogant behavior. People
have gained more self-confidence, and the world no longer seems as terrifying
and unknown as it once did. The bearers of horror now are other people, not
wild beasts or supernatural forces. Thunder today is seen as "the
discharge of electricity in the atmosphere" rather than "the wrath of
the gods." Of course, many people are still afraid of thunder or fear
being struck by lightning. However, this human victory is fragile, not because
a person could always be struck by lightning, but because we don’t know how
we’ll react if some unknown and frightening phenomenon suddenly appears before
us, rendering reason useless. Any significant disruption in the "controlled"
or "conquered" reality will collapse humanity's achieved progress
like a house of cards.
The universe is
eerily silent. That silence seeks to nullify every distinctness, drawing
everything into the monolithic facelessness of the natural flow, along the
paths of creation and dissolution, toward the (in)finite entropy and the
matrices of nothingness. In the ambient of the all-encompassing facelessness of
the universe's silence, no one can say "I" without the entire
universe also saying the same. Human beings constantly assert and say
"I," but certainly from the confined positions of fragments of a vast
whole—fragments that believe they have their own integrity and identity. From
the perspective of the totality, every distinctness, every individual
integrity, let alone identity, is utterly irrelevant. What is the meaning of
the integrity of some seemingly independent whole in the gigantic structure of
the infinite universe (and the metacosmic void)? What is the meaning, if not to
be a cog (if it is not already the key atom, the cornerstone, which might be
the role of the Savior), a piece in the mosaic, a fragment that will, in any
case, fulfill some purpose, to be used, discarded, and melted into something
else? This law is relentless and merciless—the law of the superiority of the
infinitely large over the infinitely small. However, even this role does not
affirm the integrity of the aforementioned key atom but rather integrates it
even more elegantly into the totality of the whole.
The key atom, or
rather the consciousness of a messianic genius, does not possess its own
identity but an absolute, universal, infinite one. He realizes that he never
truly had his own "I"; instead, his "I" is essentially the
"I" of the Universe itself, if I may put it that way. This means that
his integrity does not end at the boundaries of his minuscule existence
(assuming that the Logos is incarnated as a human), but it does not end at all.
From the perspective of the infinite beyond, the entire universe seems like a
distant point of light, as if it were a solitary star on an entirely dark and
empty, infinite horizon. One who has awakened and become a Buddha,
self-realized as universal consciousness, easily discovers the infinite
magnitudes of his integrity, whose foundation lies in the metacosmic void, and
thus speaks of nirvana.
The essence of
integrity and identity is directed toward the infinity of nothingness.
Furthermore, the question of identity would allow for the claim that every
identity is arbitrary, subject to change, and therefore as true as it is false,
depending on the amount of energy invested in it. Descartes' statement "I
think, therefore I am" is, at the very least, an ambiguous assertion. The
being that responds to "Descartes" and claims that, by thinking, it
exists, is not affirming its existence as a being, but rather its existence as
"Descartes," as an identity. The form that answers to the name
Descartes indeed once existed, judging by significant historical evidence, but
"Descartes" itself is the name of a fiction that haunted that form (it
is essentially the name of the form's personality). No "Descartes"
existed as something real. That being (which historical accounts refer to and
recognize as such) merely imagined itself to be "Descartes." The
cessation of the flow of thoughts does not negate the being called Descartes,
but rather results in the dissolution of the fiction, the phantom, that is
"Descartes." Mental silence disintegrates the illusion of identity.
Identity exists only as long as the thinking process continues. Therefore,
"I think, therefore I am" applies only to "Descartes" and
not to the being that, with the help of cultural forces, produced the fiction
known as Descartes.
If by any chance
the man Descartes were to fall and lose consciousness, witnesses would say that
he fainted. The truth would be that "Descartes" temporarily ceased to
exist. The witnesses could see the familiar man, i.e., the body lying there, but
"Descartes" would be nowhere, because in its unconscious state, the
being is not thinking or supplying energy to maintain the constructed identity
called "Descartes." When Descartes' being awakens,
"Descartes" will also awaken, having been "compressed" in
the meantime. On the other hand, if an active dreaming process occurs in
Descartes' mind, it means that "Descartes" has retreated (it is a
good question where exactly he has retreated to). We can see that identity is
an energetic mode, of greater or lesser value, something fragile and incapable
of independent existence— a puppet, a larva, a robot. Such a perspective, among
other things, is a result of the strengthening of reason, which dictates that
if something is not rational, then it is fictional, and if it is fictional,
then it is as if it does not exist.
We wouldn't be too wrong if we were to say that the shell of identity stems from the belief that people have a soul, at the center of which lies their sense of Self— a sense that supposedly exists even after death and whose states depend on a certain religious-dogmatic determinism. For us, identity has long ceased to be a matter of the senses, even though we recognize each other by appearance. Similarly, we wouldn't be far off if we claimed that the Self is a consequence and product of a certain way of perceiving. We are so tied to the human form that it is very difficult for us to imagine ourselves as something else, let alone to become that something else, that is, to willingly transform into what we imagine. The Self is conditioned by the human form, even though it essentially springs from the formlessness of consciousness. This sense is undeveloped in newborns, but as the child grows and matures, it will consume and demand more and more life energy for processes of thinking, imagining, self-reflection, and interactions with other people and the environment. The first and most important factor in the creation of the Self, or personality, is consciousness, followed by the human form— either the physical or energetic body— and only in the third place comes the influence of external forces.
The Self is a secretion of consciousness, just like the entire human being— a response of consciousness to the challenges posed by the forces governing the universe. Perhaps it would be more precise to say that the Self is an expression of the human form itself, which is an emanation of formless consciousness, and by embodying the human form, it becomes "human" consciousness. However, the Self only partially fulfills this purpose. The autonomy it possesses can often be impractical, resulting in a catastrophe for consciousness, which is effectively consumed by external forces. To sustain itself, the Self binds vast amounts of the being's life energy, striving to gain power that ensures control over reality and its own integrity, according to strict standards and patterns originating from the social and cultural sphere. This state of the human spirit and its perception makes a person an easy prey for death, forces of decay, and annihilation. Death always catches up with us. The process works flawlessly, almost always breaking into the very center of our lives completely unexpectedly, even when it is entirely expected. For destiny to be fulfilled, a whole series of coincidences must occur. How we die is, indeed, a coincidence. What is part of fate is death itself. In the face of such circumstances, the vast majority of people can do almost nothing.
Tuesday 9 July 2024
Asterism of the Minor Arcana
Supporting the asterism (although this is not a precise term) of the minor arcana is the classification of forty-eight constellations presented in E. Raymond Capt's book, The Glory of the Stars. He assigned each zodiac constellation three non-zodiac constellations, which for our purpose could be the star-mythological attributes of the minor arcana in the context of the decans. By researching the mythological contents associated with the constellations and their main stars, we can somewhat grasp their general system of meaning:
Friday 5 July 2024
Cosmology of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe
If
we view the universe from a strictly materialistic perspective, we will
confront uncomfortable realizations. Beyond such a universe is nothingness, and
within it is also nothingness. At the extreme points of opposition between the
infinitely large and the infinitely small, there lies nothingness. Nothingness
is both the starting point and the end point of the entire universe. The
universe is an arena of fatal change and exists due to its inherent dynamics,
which are rooted in the eternal play of two poles of nothingness: the
infinitesimal and the infinite. From the perspective of space itself, the
infinity of metacosmic nothingness, the universe is a wholly insignificant
phenomenon, a point of light destined to shatter into infinity, to be absorbed
into the void of emptiness. The only light in the darkness is doomed to
extinguish through dispersion. Light energy irreversibly dissipates into the
depths of space. Expanding and conquering boundless expanses, the universe
loses itself in its grandeur.
Nothingness
is the cause of the universe's dynamics. Not only does it surround everything,
but it also permeates everything that exists. Nothingness is like a demiurge,
the primal mover, active in its passivity, deus otiosus. All matter in the
universe can be converted into energy, and all energy can be depleted,
radiating through the cosmos. This does not explain the origin of light or
energy, but it leaves room for considering light as an intruder in the endless
realm of nothingness and darkness. Light is an intruder, which, unless it finds
a way to leave the world permeated by nothingness within some indeterminate time
frame, can only expect its own dissolution, death, and transformation into
darkness. How and where light can go without falling within the reach of death
and darkness is another question. Therefore, the universe is like a
kaleidoscopic play, a mimicry of light, in an attempt to escape the deadly trap
it was cast into from a source that is practically unfathomable.
Existence
implies a mechanism of decomposition. This mechanism is inherent in the very
nature of the universe, in its internal oppositions. We see how the origin of
the universe is its self-dissolution and disappearance. Its fundamental
elements tend toward disintegration and the dissolution of the whole they
collectively form. Matter strives to return to its initial state of inactivity,
to the timelessness of primordial non-action, to eternal peace. Temporarily
imprisoned within the structure of the universe, its fundamental elements seek
freedom, which, in relation to the whole, represents a destructive act and the
self-destruction of each individual entity. The liberating tendency of the
fundamental substances of the universe is entropy. Entropy affirms nothingness
as an immanent force, as essence, as the source and outcome, as the beginning
and end. Entropy confirms nothingness as a fateful and determining presence or
absence, as the starting point and end. Entropy is a measure of disorder or
randomness in a system.
The
second law of thermodynamics states that entropy tends to increase over time,
meaning that the universe is constantly moving towards a state of greater
disorder. As the universe expands, matter and energy become more dispersed,
leading to an increase in entropy. The universe is moving towards a state of
maximum entropy, in which all matter is evenly distributed and there is no more
potential for energy utilization. The universe's inertia towards nothingness is
the cause of universal entropy and decadence on all lower and smaller levels.
Conversely, it would also be correct to assert that entropy processes on
smaller levels are the cause of universal entropy and decadence on a general
level. The logic of this statement finds its analogy in the famous Hermetic
law: as above, so below, which masterfully connects two spatial and value
perspectives that are lost in two opposing infinities.
The
process of decay begins simultaneously with the beginning of the universe
itself. In the human world, decay starts with the creation of that very world.
The world exists to be destroyed by the force of its own nature. This means
that existence is a decadent and fatal process in which something comes into
being, grows and develops, reaches its peak, then stagnates, declines, and
ultimately dies and disappears. Existence is not merely decadent in the sense
that decadence is one of its characteristics; existence itself is decadence.
This finds its parallel in the philosophy of Saint Augustine, who says: "I
am sinful because I exist," or "sinful" is everything that
exists. If it were not sinful, it would not exist. In existence, there is a
built-in flaw intended to destroy it through its own actualization. This leads
us to the biblical myth of the expulsion of the first human couple from the
Garden of Eden. By eating the fruit from the forbidden tree of knowledge of
good and evil, they transitioned from a state of perfection into a state of
imperfection, that is, from a state into the process of mortal life. Their
reason was awakened, and their eyes were opened. Their sudden realization that
they were naked, and the covering of their sexual organs with an apron, points
to the essential consequences of moving from a state of perfection into the
process of imperfection. They lost the so-called cloak of incorruption, or the
light that adorned them in their state of perfection, and that
"switch" is located in the region of the sexual organs, which became
the subject of shame, various taboos, and symbols of perversion up to the
present day. It is precisely the loss of this primordial light that is the
cause or indicator of all decadence and the "sinfulness" of the human
being, primarily its mortality, since, according to biblical teaching, the
punishment for sin is death.
Since
it leads to ultimate destruction, the fundamental principle of the universe is
not order, but disorder. The cosmic creator designed chaos that operates
according to certain principles. The cosmos is subordinated to chaos; it
functions within the framework of chaos. In the universe, every form of order
is relative, limited, and serves the purpose of eventual destruction. Every
advancement and creation are in the service of general decadence and
destruction. The price of progress is destruction. This rule is also evident in
human behavior. Without progress, there would be no destruction, but then there
would be no progress either. Although it seems unnatural, progress is natural,
as is the destruction that accompanies it. Regardless, everything will be
destroyed eventually, with or without progress, due to the action of the
fundamental forces of the universe. Progress is a tool of chaos, but above
that, progress is also a small island of the cosmos and consciousness, a piece
of solid ground underfoot, and a landmark of reason.
As
human beings, we are accustomed to treating light and darkness, or day and
night, as equal givens of nature, as if they were some kind of equal phenomena
or entities. We get this impression due to the roughly equal proportions of
both phenomena, which structure the rhythm of life on Earth. And this seems
normal to us. However, if we look more closely, we see that light is a far
inferior component of this duality. In the universe, as clearly illustrated by
the night, light is present in far smaller quantities compared to darkness. The
dominance of light is an illusion, a consequence of the close presence of a
massive source of light and heat, the Sun. Darkness is the alpha and omega.
Light represents the facade of existence, the basic reference for the projection
of space and time. The quantitative superiority of darkness over light, and our
perception of this superiority, which in turn reveals a truer picture of the
world, is reflected in our fear. We are always more afraid at night than during
the day. We always feel a sense of relief when dawn comes. It is not
necessarily the case that darkness implies or hides some evil, nor does light
imply goodness. In this universe, there are no exalted principles at work, only
the most brutal Darwinian food chain.
One
of the prevalent beliefs is that antiquity and darkness are attributed to the
female element, while light, and what is historically or mythologically
younger, is attributed to the male. Bachofen argues that femininity stands at
the forefront, while the male figure appears only later, in the second line.
The woman is the given, while the man is a creation. According to Bachofen,
women and men do not appear simultaneously. They are not of the same order. The
woman is what is given, the man is what emerges from her. He belongs to the
visible, but constantly changing creation. As such, he enters the world only in
a mortal form. From the beginning, there exists only the woman, given,
unchanging. The man, having become, is therefore exposed to constant decay. In
the realm of physical life, the male principle is secondary, subordinated to
the female principle. This is the root of the ancient conception of the
connection between the immortal mother and the mortal father. The mother is
always the same, while the male side builds an endless line of generations. One
primal mother is always paired with new men. Naturally, these statements should
not be understood literally.
After this paraphrase of Bachofen, I would recall the moment in Carlos Castaneda's work when his teacher, the sorcerer Don Juan, speaks about the quantitative superiority of female consciousness compared to the male, which exists in traces in the universe. Julius Evola, in his book The Metaphysics of Sex, states that the question of whether women are inferior, equal, or superior to men is meaningless because it presupposes comparability. According to Evola, there is a difference between men and women that excludes any usual measure, as even abilities and virtues that seem "neutral" and "common" have different functionality and characteristics depending on whether they are present in men or women. To ask whether the "woman," or the female principle, is superior or inferior to the "man," or the male principle, is akin to asking whether water is superior or inferior to fire. Thus, as Evola puts it, the criterion of measure for both sexes cannot be provided by the opposite sex but only by the "idea" of one's own sex. What can be done in this regard is to determine the superiority or inferiority of a specific woman based on how closely she approaches female typicality, the pure or absolute woman, which is equally valid for men. Therefore, the question of the inferiority or superiority of one principle relative to another is only regarding the quantitative presence in nature or in a being or phenomenon. Of course, determining the properties of typicality of the pure or absolute gender nature is a separate matter, as this nature never fully manifests in any individual human being but always in some proportion. There is no "pure" or complete man, nor is there a complete or "pure" woman. These are abstract metaphysical ideals. In nature, something is always missing, and everyone deviates to some extent from the ideal.
Take a piece of coal, mud, excrement, anything that might seem disgusting and dark, in fact, anything at all, pleasant or unpleasant. All of it was once pure light. However, how does something, by nature passive, unmanifested, suddenly become manifested, active, and thus creative and life-giving light? Where does the primordial cosmic egg of pure energy come from amid the void? The answer points to some incomprehensible active force that creates energetic forms by mixing its own with the unmanifested energy of the void. These resulting forms, being of dual nature and composed of two types of energy, tend toward disintegration. Each type of energy seeks to free itself from its imposed, unnatural state and return to its normal state, that is, to its primordial, timeless environment. This means that everything around us is made up of these two types of energy. What is uncreated and of single-energy nature cannot die or live in a way that is familiar and known to us. On the other hand, everything that comes into being, lives, and dies is of dual-energy origin.