NaNoWriMo 2012: Welcome to the Madhouse

Book of the Satyr

or

A Grammar of Madness and Lust

Nothing is true, everything is permitted.

It’s all true, especially the contradictions.

…Everything is still permitted…

IAM that I AM

I AM that I WILL BE

DEDICATION TO THE GODS WHO INSPIRE

O Goddesses of Olympus, Musai

O Apollon, father of the lyre

This work I do in your name

This work I do for your glory

Shine your inspiration upon me

That my efforts might honor you better

O Hermes, the silver-quick and clever

O Mercury, messenger and guide

This work I do by your discretion

This work I do by your tools

Stand beside me always

That my words might be bright and clear

O Dionysus, cause and surcease of madness

O Zagreus, embodiment of ecstasy

This work I do as your servant

This work I do as your messenger

Be within me as I write

That I might be without myself and range more widely

Hai Musai!

Io Memnosune, Titan Muse and memory incarnate!

Io Caliope, mistress of the epic!

Io Clio, keeper of history!

Io Erato, voice of lust!

Io Euterpe, mistress of song!

Io Terpischore, inspiration of dance!

Io Melpomene, bringer of tears!

Io Thalia, who causes laughter!

Io Polymnia, source of all hymns!

Io Urania, who keeps the secrets of the stars!

Io Apollon!

Io Phoibos, lord of the sun!

You who slew the serpent Pytho

and who inspire the prophesies of Delos!

Bright son of Metis and mighty Zeus!

You in whose name I issue prophesy!

Bringer and healer of plague!

Io Hermes!

Io Dolios, divine trickster who, new-born, fooled Apollo and Zeus alike!

Slayer of watchful Argos

Great messenger of the gods!

You Of the Gateway,

Guide of both the living and the dead!

Io Ram-bearer! Io Champion!

Io Dionysos!

Io Bacchos! Yourself, your Mask, and your worshiper: one!

Bringer of madness and ecstasy!

Lord of the vine and instructor in fermentation!

Twice-born, Twice-died, Thrice-lived!

You of the Mysteries!

In whose name I pour all libations!

Project Null: What Am I Doing Again?

projectnull

Much like the ceremonial experiment, I started Project Null thinking that I knew what it was I would be studying, and turning out to me more than a little bit wrong. There are certain key techniques of Chaos Magick: fewer and, in some cases, easier to define than those of traditional Western ceremonialism. As the Ptolmaic, enspirited paradigm centers and frames the Hermetic magician’s practice, so, too, do certain beliefs and attitudes make up the base and superstructure of the Chaos Magickian. So early in my studies, I am no more qualified to pontificate on the latter than the former. Still, I think I have reached a point where I might make a few observations. What follows below are just that: my observations and half-researched opinions, and if any of the self-identified Chaos Magicians who read this blog take my statements amiss, I apologize in advance and ask that they correct me.

Most central to Chaos Magic as I have studied it so far are one tenant and one strategy: first, the belief there is no fundamental truth, and the corollary that belief itself is a tool; and a dedication to experimentation in search of measurable results.

“Nothing is true, everything is permitted.” I see this mantra everywhere in the Chaos theory I study, and it is here that Chaos Magick’s roots in the 1980s and 90s are most evident. There is wisdom in it, but also hubris: a fool’s absolutist misinterpretation of cognitive relativism and and postmodern thought. I like the newer version better: “Everything is true, everything is permitted.” The variation seems less open to materialistic nihilism, a trait I have observed in many of the Chaotes and former CM practitioners I have known in the physical world.

Much more valuable, and arguably even more iconic of the CM paradigm, is the second point. Experimentation is hardly unique to Chaos Magick, but—to the best of my ability to determine—Chaos Magick is unique in the way in which pseudo-scientific experimentation and the incorporation of scientific theory to achieve reliable, demonstrable results is central to its self-identity. And it is this point which I find most appealing about the paradigm.

After these things, what Chaos Magick seems to be best known for is sigils, which seems to be the central technique of the Chaote as spirit evocation is to grimoire ceremonial magic.

I had a plan when all this madness started. I knew what books I was going to read and had a pretty solid idea of what experiments I was going to perform. Things have already gone a bit off the rails, though. The results of my previous experiments weren’t done moving through the pipeline—a fact clearly demonstrated by the various spiritwork and visionary experiences that have devoured my last couple weeks.

Chaos Magick is results magic, first and foremost, and my experiments in Chaos Magick have turned into an engine for synthesizing the ongoing results from the ceremonial experiment into my larger personal practice. I thought about ignoring those results in favor of the original plan, but only for a moment. That dumb shit would blow up in my face so fast it would actually be be funny, and it would fly in the face of the spirit of Chaos Magick besides.

Chaos Magick is results magic, and by all the gods: I’m getting damn results.  I’m hearing spirits more clearly, and they’re damn sure hearing me. I’m seeing auras again AND suffering less from the effects of psychic weather. I’m having legit gnostic experiences—one after another, each more brain-borking than the last—which is … well, short of my ongoing relationships with Aradia and Sannafrid, pretty much the most awesome thing to happen to me. Ever.

Here’s to magic, y’all. Here’s to breaking ourselves, breaking the world, and putting it all back together so that it’s more interesting than it was before.

Here’s to forging ahead even when it’s terrifying.

Here’s to Chaos.

A Crash Course In Planetary Power

2012-10-24_21-25-33_795As I mentioned a bit ago, I’ve been participating in Rufus Opus mad (awesome) experiment Seven Spheres in Seven Days. Although the group has officially been on hiatus since the completion of Wednesday’s ritual, I have been continuing with daily invocations in accordance with the imperative laid upon me by my spirit-allies before RO posted his challenge. Also, the part where it’s just been too awesome to quit.

2012-10-26_08-06-33_148Because of the particular way in which Phase One of the Seven Sphres in Seven Days project cut across my own planetary practice, it has comprised two weeks of daily rituals for me.  The whole series of rites have been mind-blowing, but yesterday’s Venus ritual and this morning’s Saturn rite were particularly impressive.

I had not attempted to reach the Sphere of Venus before this week. I did not make it so far up the 2012-10-27_08-31-17_326Ladder of the Heavens before my patience with the phallic paradigms of my year dedicated to the study of Hermeticism came to an end.

The cold front that hit last week has robbed me of much (read: all) of my morning spunk and verve. It was all I could do to achieve consciousness in time for the dawn Hour of Venus. I printed and cut out the seals and talismans of the planet and its 2012-10-30_21-24-07_303daimones; half-conscious, my work was sloppy, and will need to be redone more elegantly. Still, lighting candle and incense, reciting the Orphic Hymn to Aphrodite (8: the Natural Law of Harmony), and visualizing the planetary seal, I was granted a vision of the Realm. A verdant green landscape opened up before me, which I unfortunately had to leave leave quickly, as I did not have time for intense journeywork before class.

Unlike last Friday, when the lingering influence of Venus made it almost impossible to think over the maniacal 2012-10-31_08-15-06_12screaming of my libido, my lust—though great—was secondary to an overwhelming sense of peace. My customary misanthropy, although far from silent, lost much of its bitter edge, and people who have been cold to me in the past warmed to my presence.

Last week’s Saturn ritual provided me a template to apply to my planetary conjurations which would provide me with better access to the Seven Spheres in Seven Days group current, which you can see in some of the images to the left.  The conjuration employed the Talisman and 2012-11-01_14-56-48_216Grand Seal at the center of the  triangle formed by the seals of the Olympic spirit and planetary spirit and intelligence, and the lamen of the planetary angel on the altar.  With all these things in place, candle and incense lit, Orphic hymn read and libation poured, I asked the angels of the planets to lead me to their planetary realms.

This morning’s ritual provided me with further and clearer instructions for my planetary magic: a double triangle, with the inner triangle pointing toward me, 2012-11-03_14-31-12_685with the angelic lamen at the near point and candles on the back two; the outer triangle having the sigils of the Olypic spirit, the Spirit, and the Intelligence of the planet in the configuration I have been using so far, and the Grand Seal of the planet in the middle as I have been doing.

I got my printable seals and glyphs from a number of places, but in particular I want to credit Polyphanes with the lamen designs and Asterion with the Olympic seals.

The images to the left, obviously, are a photojournal of my daily altars.  Unfortunately, some technical difficulties with my phone and data uploading to both the internet and the computer ate more than half my photos.  Below is the Circle of Art as provided to me by the forces of Saturn this morning.

I would love any input that the more traditional ceremonial magic who read my blog might have on this evolving aspect of my practice.

2012-11-03_18-22-30_547

Good Problems To Have

There is a theory which argues that “complaints” of being busy is actually a distinctly modern form of bragging.  I don’t think that’s always the case, but it definitely is, here.  Since my last full moon post, I have suffered a problem that probably every magical blogger is happy to have: I have been too busy doing magic to write about it.

I did two more nights of full moon magic after the first.  The results were … not what I expected, but solid.  Sunday night I went on a second visionary journey, and Monday I performed a series of offerings and fired a shoal of sigils.

The Seven Spheres in Seven Days group-work has gotten spectacular results.  I’ve had time in the last two days to implement the instructions presented to me during my Saturn rite, brining my rituals that much closer to the ideal form of the Gates Rites.  As such, I have completed my first Mars ritual and my most successful Mercury ritual to date.  I’m very, very excited to start the second week tomorrow.

Last night, tonight, and tomorrow will be dedicated to Samhain.  Last night’s visionary work was … potent, if not fruitful, and I did my divination for the coming year.  Tonight will be offerings and a Bacchanal.  Tomorrow will be more visionary work.

I will tell all these stories in good time, but ….

Tomorrow is also the start of National Novel Writing Month, which will devour every moment of my spare time.  Accordingly, posts of substance may see a sharp decrease.  Conversely, however, I’m going to try dabbling in hypersigils—my NaNo is going to be a combination pseudo-grimoire in the tradition of the Simonomicon, a magical narrative in the tradition of the Invisibles, and a weed-and-absinthe soaked memoire—and the results (both creative and material) may appear here.

Listening to Spirits II: Full Moon Visions of the Cosmos I

Although things haven’t quite gone according to plan over this full moon at the cusp of Aries and Taurus, it’s been pretty epic.  I hesitate to say that I’m “back on top of” my visionary practice, because every time I say that, I fall back off.  Instead I’ll just say that I’ve been doing a good job of keeping up with in over the last few Esbats, and that I’ve been having really powerful experiences as a result.

As I mentioned yesterday, the spirits on my altar have had a lot to say to me in the last week during my meditations and daily rituals.  One such spirit, which has housed itself in a Cycladic figure that I have been using along with my Kouros figure to meditate on my relationship with the archetypes of the divine feminine and masculine respectively[1], informed me that it was time for us to have a sit-down.

Trying to make room for a full three-night Esbat and still leave room for both Samhain and homework, I started my Full Moon rituals Saturday night.  I opened with the Titan’s Cross and Pentagram Rite, performed the Stele of Jeu, then made offerings from my new bottle of absinthe to Dionysus and the as-yet-unnamed Cycladic figure.  I louched the absinth, put on Michael Harner’s Drums, and began my descent.

From the beginning, my vision was off-script.  Stepping out into the void where I usually find the World Tree manifesting as a crystalline spire which rises into the “sky”.  Instead, the world tree appeared as the intertwined bodies of an opposite-sex pair—an image I wear around my neck and have used in art as one way of conceptualizing certain Mysteries, but which I have never used magically—emerging from the void about their thighs and with light streaming upwards past their heads.  The male figure was … blurry and passive, but the female figure beckoned me forward.

At first I attempted to enter the world tree as I usually do: stepping inside and descending as light moves through fiberoptics.  I passed through her thigh and descended … but rather than landing at my Inner Temple, as I had intended, I was confronted by images I could neither comprehend nor describe and landed back in my body.

On my second attempt, I climbed into her outstretched hand and she swallowed me whole.  I was briefly suspended in a dark, watery void, before falling down through more indescribable visions to land at the outer reaches of my inner temple.

The grounds surrounding my Temple were overgrown, and my Natal Demon, SKM, was standing on the parapets—grotesque, gothic fortifications which my Inner Temple did not used to possess and which it may or may not possess when next I descend.  I entered the front gate and knelt at the base of the vast Cycladic statue just to the right of the entrance, opposite her consort Kouros to the left.  In between them is a door that sometimes leads to the basement and sometimes leads to Mysteries; that night it led to the basement, where I sat down cross legged and waited.

Soon, a slender female figure descended and sat opposite me in the circle on the floor.  I could not discern her face.  I greeted her warmly and asked what I should call her.

“Witchmother,” she told me.

I asked her what her nature was, and she showed me a vision of deep forests and swamps and caverns, and flashes of secret rites taking place therein.  I asked what she would ask of me in terms of rites and offerings, and she didn’t quite answer.  I was left with a strong impression of “we’ll see where this goes,” but told me to continue the offerings I was already giving.  Finally, I asked if she had anything else to show me, and tat’s when things got really strange.

She turned and went back up the stairs.  I followed, and she led me past a series of places I half-recognized.  Finally, we passed through a network of interwoven webs or light and glass-like two-dimensional planes which intersected at odd angles.  I recognized the webs of light as relationships: when I’m at the top of my game, I can see those webs stretching between people and places and ideas: more intricate than any lace ever imagined.  We crossed into a dark void.  Up and  up we went, vast nothing stretching above and behind us.  Then she turned me around, and I saw the vast mass of webs and planes below, so distant as to appear small: the earth, and the worlds and relationships that make up all the people who live there.

Having shown me this, the Witchmother vanished, and I fell back to my body.


1 – I know I’ve talked about this before somewhere, but can’t find the posts.

World Tree Lovers

An image I drew several years ago, early in my visionary career, while looking for ways to contextualize my early experiences.  Not something I’ve used much in my work because it’s too easy to misconstrue as gender essentialist.  Highly relevant to Saturday night’s visionary experience.

Slightly NSFW (boobies!  implied sexual intercourse!), so I’ve hidden it under a fold.

Read More

Listening to the Voices: Planetary Shenanigans

Since I escalated my devotional/spirit-work practice by incorporating Jason Miller’s Rite of General Offering and getting back on top of my meditation practice, the spirits who hang around my life have had a lot to say to me.  “Do this with your altar.”  “Do that.”  “That looks like a tasty offering.”  Nothing mind-blowing, but definitely more than I used to get.  My astral “hearing” is still pretty  sketchy—everything comes to me as a sort of knowing, rather than something my language-centers process—but it’s getting better.  Most interesting and timely of the various instructions I have received was the Sunday-morning admonition to add a daily component to my seasonal altar.

I did so faithfully Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.  It was pretty neat, the talismans that made up most of my daily altar definitely got a boost, and Wednessday my memory and linguistic abilities were through the fucking roof.

Thursday, though, was a perfect storm of insomnia, oversleeping, and discouragement.  It was the second night that week that my sleep was insufficient and marked by bizarre dreams that I could not remember in the morning.  I came across RO’s fabulous challenge/invitation … and was (oddly, in retrospect) so bummed that I hadn’t seen it the day before that A) spaced out that there were going to be more Jupiter hours that day, and B) almost gave up on the daily planetary magic altogether.  Which is silly in all sorts of ways.  I should have taken it as encouragement/an omen to get back on track, with everyone else doing the deal.  I don’t have the Gates Rites (and missed the part about how to go about it without them in the second post), but fuck: I’d already been told to do the damn thing.

Then something happened that never happens: the clue phone rang AGAIN.  Literally, this time.  My friend Sthenno, whom I had thought I had somehow offended when she stopped returning my calls over the summer, called me up out of the blue, thirty minutes short of the (Nightly) Hour of Jupiter, to ask if I were doing the RO rites.  “I am, now,” I said.

The ritual got me high.  It was amazing.  Even the election when I first charged my Jupiter talisman wasn’t that awesome in terms of visceral experience.

Friday morning I was back on track.  Again, the ritual—consisting of no more than the arrangement of my altar, the lighting of a candle and stick of incense, and the pouring of a libation—got me super high … which was a bit of a problem, as I used the dawn Hour, and had to go to class.  What was even more of a problem was the potent influence of Venus.  Prior to that invocation, I had almost managed to put a lid on my haven’t-been-fucked-in-two-months libido.  Ooops, there’s that out the window: all day Friday I was too horny to think.  And I dropped a Venusian glamour bomb on some poor fellow students in the English office outside my Latin class, because I was too high on Venusian power not to pore breathe it into the atmosphere around me.

Despite the fact that I still hadn’t found the for-non-Gates-Rites-participants instructions, I was definitely tapped into the current.  I could feel it.  Can feel it still, for that matter.

Saturday morning, I was a little nervous about.  I didn’t get to Saturnine work in last year’s ceremonial experiment, but I know that Saturn in Scorpio is fucking with many of my dearest loves in a pretty hardcore fashion.  And while the ritual got me high, it definitely wasn’t the kind of fun the previous two rituals had produced.  As a matter of fact, I was pretty reserved for the rest of the day, despite my attempt to turn a party I went to into a Bacchanal.  But that was later: something much more interesting happened first.  I didn’t just tap into the current of the ritual group: I saw it, stretching across the sky in a dark rainbow moving west to east.  And it showed me what I need to do to tap into the current and participate more fully.

Let me say that again: the magical current Rufus Opus has set up for these weeks of planetary invocations showed me how to make more effective use of itself.

Unfortunately, because of homework and my Full Moon obligations (night two of three will start as soon as I finish this post), I was not able to fully implement the instructions I was given.  At this point in the week, I will probably not do so before Thursday starts the second week cycle (for the sake of symmetry).  But I have the Circles I’m going to use for the invocations.  They’ve been stamped in my brain.

This morning was not quite as impressive, but damn that Solar high was nice.  And today has been super, super productive in its wake.

This week’s rituals have definitely helped me level out some of the instability I’ve incurred by my interaction with the Chaos Current.  In turn, I feel absolutely certain that without my Chaos Magick work I would not have gotten as much out of these planetary rites as I have.  I certainly wouldn’t have been able to see the current of the workgroup the way I have.

For clarity’s sake: all my rites have been at the dawn hour, excepting the Jupiter Rite which I did at an hour of night.  They have involved the construction of a mini-altar consisting mostly of talismans charged on previous occasions, the recitation of the appropriate Orphic Hymn from my Book of Art (which is picking up quite a charge of its own), and offerings of candle, port, and sandalwood incense.  The summoning circle I was shown and the contemplation of the Seal will be added Thursday … hopefully I’ll have time to actually make those in the near future.

So let’s take that lesson to heart, folks: when the spirits talk, listen.  Don’t be my fool ass and make them call you back twice.  And if they actually bother to do so, be fucking grateful.

Liber Lux: Kia: Addendum

Kia: The absolute freedom which being free is mighty enough to be “reality” and free at any time: therefore is not potential or manifest (except as it’s instant possibility) by ideas of freedom or “means,” but by the Ego being free to receive it, by being free of ideas about it and by not believing. The less said of it (Kia) the less obscure is it. Remember evolution teaches by terrible punishments-that conception is ultimate reality but not
ultimate freedom from evolution.

Spare, Austin Osman.  The Book of Pleasure.

For Mr. Jack Faust.  Very belated, with apologies.

Because Kia did not begin with Peter Carroll.

This is My Brain on Chaos Magick

I was an arrogant, ignorant ass way back in the day.  At seventeen I was already trying to write manuals of what little I knew about magic.  I didn’t know shit, not that I could put into words, but I tried anyway.  But I was also a little precocious: the very first book was subtitled “A Path to Madness”.  Yeah.  I was also pompous … even more than I am today.  That said, however, there does seem to be a strong correlation between the practice of magic and the appearance or experience of insanity.

For myself, that correlation predates my study and practice of the occult.  Although many, even in the United States, had it much worse than I, my childhood was far from idyllic.  The living hell that most people experience in Junior High was my experience of elementary school; in retrospect, I was always a little queer, and I imagine that the other children knew before I did that I was Other than they.  As I’ve mentioned before, some years of my magical practice—age twenty-one through twenty-five, in particular—revolved around getting a grasp on my sanity more than anything else, but the more Project Null brings my early experiments back to conscious recollection, the more I wonder if the first two or three years of my practice didn’t destabilize me more than I realize.

Although I cannot help but think that there is a certain amount of self-aggrandizement in the framing of it, Chaos Magick, in particular, has a reputation for shaking the foundations of one’s sanity.  Stephen Mace, Peter Carroll, and Phill Hine all mention it[1].  The good master Jack Faust had some things to say about it, as well, which resonated with me deeply[2].

I’ve mentioned in greater and lesser detail that over the last few weeks, my paranoia and social anxiety have been off the rails.  I’ve been so out of sorts that I dedicated the Dark Moon to banishing more than anything else: performing the Stele of Jeu two days in a row, and three days in a row of my LBRP variant.  I felt fabulous … until I encountered people.  There’s a lot of astrological garbage going on right now, but a lot of it’s kinda where I live, anyway, and it doesn’t seem to be affecting everyone else as badly.  You, my readers, are clever people: you already see where this is going.

Somewhere last week, I started entertaining the idea that I might be under magical attack.  And yesterday I was almost certain that was what was going on.

Now, it fifteen years of magical practice, I’ve been attacked (not counting the whole B situation) maybe three times, tops.  Probably only twice.  But shit’s been exploding in my brain for almost a month, now.  Still, I exercised appropriate caution with that idea.  I asked ZG about it during my Dark Moon journeywork … unfortunately, her answer was unintelligible.  Yesterday, when I was about ready to unleash the hounds on whoever or whatever was coming after me … I sat down with my tarot deck, got a little gnostic with my pipe and my porto, and laid down some cards.

IMG_5574

Hahah.  Oops.

No.  I’m not under attack.  I’m short-circuiting myself and suffering from psychic weather.  College campuses are not healthy places, psychically speaking, and my shields aren’t strong enough for my increasing sensitivity.  There may or may not be a particular person or persons who are exacerbating the problem (Immediate trigger: Princesss of Disks), but the root cause is my own magical work (Early cause: 2W)—possibly my get-laid enchantment, or even the Chaos Magick project as a whole.  Interestingly, the solution seems to be blazing forward at full tilt boogie (Conclusion: Queen of Wands) until I achieve some sort of balance (Next step, surprising experiences: VI the Lovers, XIV Art).  Sadly, the result (8D) will not be as epic as the process.  The spread, for those unfamiliar with it, is the Ankh layout from Hajo Banzhaf and Brigitte Theler’s Keywords for the Crowley Tarot[3].

So, in the spirit of charging ahead, I finished up the first of several talismanic enchantments I have in the works: turning my bi-pride triangles into a protective talisman which doubles as a giant neon-flashing sign, “Hey, I’m fucking queer,” since so many people seem to miss the point.  In the next weeks, I plan to lay some sort of sigilized enchantment on every piece of jewelry I wear on a regular basis.

I’m also escalating my meditative practice and my daily devotionals.  This morning it was suggested to me, as I performed the Rite of General Offering, that I add a small daily shrine to my seasonal altar.  That seems like a good place to start.


1 – Mace in Stealing the Fire From Heaven; Carroll in Liber Null and Psychonaut; Hine in Condensed Chaos.  Probably more people elsewhere, as well.

2 – Yeah, Jack:  I been creeping’ yer blog, cruizin’ yer archives.

3 – pp.35-6