In all directions, I see mountains. And beyond those mountains exist the Great Darkness. Nothingness. Abstraction. Time moving forward, dragging its rusted body across the dimensions in a spiral. Every minute inevitibility comes more and more into focus. What does it mean to End? I gorge on the Never, bringing into being a renewal of sacrifice. My subconscious, a conduit, digests that which lies on the other side of the black towering Eclipse. My first deed, created out of the earth like a disfigured shape wrapped in decay, engulfs the whole of the earth in flaming fire.
Yes, I am willing to forget myself for myself. Sacrificing the who I was for the who I am to be.
The walls do weep the saddest shade of red wailing for relief to shine the light of divinity elsewhere. Their shadows creep towards the pinnacle strangling every rose that dare bloom in the absent sun.
O HOLY, HOLY, HOLY is she who raises the glass of invention. Her flesh a vessel to be shed–motionless and Dead.
Raise up your beleaguered body from the ashes of the old, for there exist no gods without imperfection, the means to create, and the ability to recognize that even the future can be reshaped and disfigured in the image of We.
Hard is the heart of fate. And every tribute? A feast for the hand of Me.
The biggest lie that you can ever tell yourself is that you are perfect. I remember a time when I was the paragon of perfection. I was perfect in every single way–I could do no wrong. I was the prettiest. The strongest. The absolute Queen of all and everything. This was a product of a self-imposed solipsism–the view or theory that the self is all that can be known to exist.
In a vacuum, perhaps all of these things would be true, but as far as I can tell, that isn’t reality.
Reality is communication. Without communication you are nothing. Without it, you will never get anything you want or need. Without communication you don’t exist. Humans are created through communication–through the physical transfer of genetic information. We are brought into this world through information communicated to doctors for years before they’re permitted to deliver babies. We are raised through communication, and eventually we discover our true natures through it.
Xepera Xeper Xeperu.
As a millennial, my struggle is vastly different than my parents, and even moreso than their parents. I have had the displeasure of living through the death of the old world, and adapting to the new. When I was little, there was no Internet. If we wanted to communicate, the most convenient method was through using the telephone. I remember writing a physical letter in the fourth grade to Lynn Reid Banks. And she never answered. I probably sent it to the wrong address.
Communication used to be much more visceral. It also used to be much more veiled and hidden than it is now. I remember the first time I logged into America Online sometime back in 1995. Email excited me, but what really got me going was the ability to instantly search for information. I could search for anything that I could possibly imagine. The only limitation in this respect was my imagination. The best part of this? Is that I could do it with some measure of anonymity, free from the judgement of others and what they might think of me for spending way too much time reading about obscure anime that hadn’t yet hit my local Suncoast video.
The Internet was so groundbreakingly wonderful because it gave me a liminal space in which I could be myself, by myself. After being introduced to this channel of nearly unlimited knowledge and information it was hard to even imagine going back to the way things were before.
As a function of being a millennial, I spend a lot of time by myself cruising the Internet for various reasons. To most of us, the Internet is nothing more than a toy to edify our body’s need for endorphins. The danger in this is that reality becomes warped when we don’t get out of the self-imposed internet bubble. As a function of “living” in a bubble, we become warped from confinement, thus creating various complexes within our identities.
In Setian jargon, these complexes are best represented by the serpent Apep, filling us with delusion. The perfection delusion created by embracing solipsism is one that offers comfort, peace of mind, and confidence–so long as our subjective selves do not directly interface with the subjective bubble of somebody else. With the convenience of indirect communication over the wide wide web, many of us have lost our ability to interface with other people directly. Visceral communication is a rare commodity right now. My generation can’t keep their jobs, relationships, or lives in order because we were brought up with Apep constantly whispering lies into our ears. Lies telling us that “we are all special.” I mean, honestly, in a way, we are all special. Each one of us a unique flower. We shouldn’t let that go to our heads though. It limits our ability to understand who we really are.
Being perfect is bullshit. Society in the United States has always been framed around the so-called “American dream.” Nowadays that entails being a baller with shitloads of money, women, the perfect body, the perfect life. You know–being comfortable without a worry in the world. I often imagine the Christian ideal of Heaven to embody this type of situation. I’m pretty sure I would get bored after a few months of living like that. Just send me to Hell already.
If I recall correctly, “the American Dream” used to represent something much more meaningful. It used to mean, escaping the country, the situation, or circumstance that held you down from truly becoming an autonomous human being. Becoming autonomous is a messy, uncomfortable process. Of course, that just makes it all the more exciting. It gives us something to look forward to. It allows us to exercise true freedom through our choices, both good and bad. If we could predict everything, many of us would bet the farm at horse races everyday. I know that I would. But how long would that keep us entertained? And at the end of the day, is mere entertainment true delight? Or just a means to murder mother time?
True delight is derived through communicating your needs to the world. Directly. It comes from finding your tribe. From that physical handshake. The smell of farts in your three hour Yoga class. The discomfort of having to wake up at 4am for work. It comes from doing the things you don’t really want to do, in order to be the person you want to be. It’s okay to hide from the world every now and then. We all need alone time. But Xeper can’t be experienced without the vital ingredient so many of us millennials have grown apart from. Human interaction. Be awkward. Be weird. Be aloof. But remember to communicate. This is your reminder for the month of June to communicate. And to smile when you do it. Even if you have a face only a mother can love.
The first thing I want to talk about is my current understanding of Xeper. The tried and true “Coming into Being,” and “Mindful Evolution” are great and wonderful, but it’s important for me to define Xeper in order to understand how I’ve applied it to my own initiation. This is tough, because in order define what Xeper is, I have to experience it first.
Initiation is hard. There are no supervisors to make sure that I’m doing right. I have to know what I’m doing while I’m doing it. I have to be honest with myself. I have to be heroic. I have to volunteer myself, to myself, for myself. Initiation is not about how big my ego is, it’s about the work I’m doing to make me into the “best me,” the best version of myself, and remembering that there will always be another “best me” to strive for, when I never get there.
How I define Xeper
Xeper – the adaptation of subtle self-awareness.
It’s the re-discovery of a thing you should know and then applying that recognition to a method of understanding to stimulate growth within the self.
I’m going to tell a story about something that happened to me rather recently. It’s about the obsessive struggle.
What is obsessive struggle?
Xeper. Cell division. Once. Twice. Three times. Where does it stop?
Experience. From here there is no return.
By my very nature I am an angry person. I usually wake up every morning around 3:45am and I’m on the road by 4:30am. I like routine. But when any little thing gets in the way of that routine, I flip out. If I can’t find my keys—I yell. If someone cuts me off on the way to work, I “what the fuck” all the way there. If someone knocks on my office door when I’m on a phone call—I lose my shit. I’ll always put on a nice face when I answer, but you can be sure that I’m annoyed at the prospect of having to get up from my desk for a stupid question and a stupid person.
I tend to keep to myself. My nose often buried in a book during my lunch breaks. I hardly speak. I’m even less inclined to say anything when I hear tall white men discuss their sometimes erotic sounding love for their lord and savior Jesus Christ. It’s a little bananas in Arizona. It really makes me miss New England—not the winters of course. I miss being within reach of more—how can you say, down to earth people? Lesbians looking off bridges. Theatre auditions. Chocolate peppermint brownies for lunch. When I moved to Arizona, I was all in, and now, I’m not so sure. I won’t be staying here for good. I have “big plans.” An endgame so to say. My day job? Merely a tool to get me to that point. I don’t have to work, but I like having my own money. Autonomy. A day job can do that. Going through the motions. Working in that small office is the least important thing in my life, by far. Although, I often find my time there to be somewhat magical. So, I keep to myself and observe the comings and goings of my workplace.
I had a co-worker in late December spread some pretty nasty rumors about me. I was kind of surprised. And even though I have anger issues—I’m well-mannered. I always have been. When I was made aware of this person talking shit to everyone in the building I felt like an attack had been carried out on my never ending obsessive struggle. I felt like everyone else knew something about me that I did not. This was a problem. It was a problem, because reminded me that my past was as real as the surgical scars I now wore. It reminded me of who I was. Who I really was. And that made me angry.
I spent the last ten years of my life in the obsessive struggle of making myself into something I physically couldn’t accommodate. Doctors. Psychologists. Magistrates telling me “no” I couldn’t change my name. Government offices. Airports. Universities. Professors. Surgeons.
Last February, I underwent twelve hours of surgery on my face to feminize it. I was born a male, but I underwent six different procedures to essentially reassign myself a face different than the one I was born with. The surgery included a forehead reconstruction, rhinoplasty, chinplasty, a trachea shave, mandibular reduction, and a lip lift. As my skull was quite masculine to begin with, I felt every procedure to be a necessary one. It hurt. A lot. And despite throwing up buckets of blood when I woke up, the surgery was a success. The changes brought about by this immensely invasive trip to the doctor’s office made my life much easier to deal with. I can’t begin to tell you, what a delight it’s been to feel a little more comfortable in my own skin.
A co-worker came into my office one day late in December and told me some disappointing information.
“Do you know Hooker Bitch?”
“Can’t say that I do.” I said.
“You know that chick who has the grandma hair?”
“Oh yeah…” I laughed.
“She’s been telling people that you were born a man.”
I was so pissed off that I couldn’t see straight. My focus narrowed. After work I went to the Fourth Avenue street fair with my fiancé. Smiling faces. Pinball machines. People asking me to sign petitions to legalize everything. I should’ve been having a good time. But, the only thing on my mind was getting revenge against this person for blowing my cover. I needed to weigh in on the alternatives.
Let’s take a step back.
I had been through too much to let this hooker-bitch bother me. And yet I did.
I felt compromised. The obsessive struggle somehow invalidated.
I considered several alternatives in dealing with the situation.
1. I could openly confront her about it.
2. Go to HR. Yeah right—they never help with anything.
3. Find a new job.
4. Do a destruction working against her.
“I’m a black magician,” I thought. “Let’s toss some lightning bolts around.” And so I did a pretty nasty destruction working. Three weeks later, this girl was on leave of absence for some kind of illness she had developed out of thin air.
Hooker-Bitch started a witch hunt against an actual witch. And that pissed me off. She embodied everything I hated about the Christian rednecks here in Arizona, and I wanted to see her suffer for talking shit.
Let’s get real here for a minute. Destruction workings are too easy. Why? I mean, would I be willing to pull the trigger on someone instead of doing a destruction working if I could get away with it? The answer? Always no. That would mean destroying myself. I would be put away for life–or worse. Totally. Not. Worth it.
Hooker-Bitch wasn’t worth the expenditure of energy. Knowing this–the real question is: why did I commit to doing a destruction working against this person if I wouldn’t even be capable of picking up a gun, let alone pulling the trigger?
Why did I do it?
The answer is simple, but not so simple. I wanted to feel powerful. Although, there was another aspect to this that I was overlooking.
Was I understanding myself? What was the driving force behind my lust to feel powerful?
If I wasn’t going to ask the tough questions then nobody would.
I wasn’t confronting something. Something important. My problems weren’t with Ms. Hooker-Bitch. That was obvious. As far as I knew I outed myself. My name is plastered all over Google in LBGT related topics and interviews from when I lived in New England. I mean really–how far could I run away from the facts?
At this point in the game, I still wasn’t understanding the problem.
In Tucson, we are surrounded by the Sonoran Desert. When I need to mentally digest something, my fiancé and I hop into the car, find a trail-head, park, and we start walking. I like the desert for the silence. I can hear myself think when I’m there.
During one of my many walks following this incident, I felt bothered and confused by the results of my destruction working. Not because of what happened to my target—but because I couldn’t justify wasting my energy like that no matter how many ways I tried to look for a good reason.
A quote from MindStar:
“As Plato illustrated in the Meno, the underlying basis of all knowledge – the primal building-blocks upon which learning and reasoning depend on their accuracy and coherence – are inherent to each incarnate intelligence: anamnesis – “recollective awareness of the neteru/Forms.” In non-metaphysical terms, humans know “instinctively” whether they are thinking reasonably and without validity.” (Aquino 72)
You see, I did the destruction working when my feelings were on auto-pilot. And by auto-pilot, I mean, even though my anger was directed at this person during the course of my working, I did the working without awareness. All I cared about was doing something that would make me feel strong and powerful.
I did the working on impulse. With emotion. It takes a titanic effort to see things from the outsides of ourselves. It takes patience and self-love. It takes compassion. And a lot writing in our journals. At the moment in which I was at my lowest, I chose to act. And I chose poorly—I compromised my ethics. My values. I forgot to pay myself before I paid everyone else. I instinctively knew that I wasn’t thinking reasonably or with validity. I just chose not to see it.
Addicted to Water
I had to dig deeper. I had to continue to ask why. The ancient Egyptian spell for crossing the desert. I always think about this when I visit the trail-heads outside of Tucson.
Ipsissimus Webb writes:
“The spell [for crossing the desert] is not intended for illustrative purposes, although it does illustrate the myth of Creation. It was an operative spell for survival across the expanse of the desert. This is an interesting moment. You are leaving behind the Known and are entering the Unknown. The Known is the divine land of Khem, before you the Unknown desert with its mirages, bandits, scorpions, sandstorms, etc. Beyond that are the foreign lands ruled by Set. What do you say as a charm? Not a prayer to Set, whose lands you were entering. Not a prayer to the familiar gods of Egypt. No, a statement of one’s Coming Into Being as the Creator. Now why would this be protective? Or more to the point, what was being protected?
The answer is that it is not protective of the body. It’s not a prayer for rain, nor a cantrip for food, nor a conjuration against desert brigands. It is for the soul. The smart traveler has already taken care of the body’s needs in the proper realm. They’ve stored food and water; they’ve sharpened their swords. But now they pause — at the edge of the Unknown — to strengthen their mind/soul. They are going into a realm where they may lose their purpose– even die in a distracted manner. What better time than using the urgency of an upcoming struggle to Work for the immortalization of the mind/soul?”
The obsessive struggle. A foreigner in an unknown land? Me? I was from New England. Arizona made me uneasy. Call it peaceful hostility. The years I spent becoming the person I am today. Preparing myself for the unknown desert. My sword—sharpened. I was angry at Hooker-Bitch because I forgot the first reason I started this unending journey through the desert of myself in the first place. I was putting too much, far too much, emotional currency on my physical self as opposed to remembering who I was at the core.
Anamnesis. First forms. Neteru.
As I walked through the desert with my fiance, he said a word that reminded me of something Immortan Joe said from Mad Max: Fury Road:
“Do not, my friends, become addicted to water. It will take hold of you and you will resent its absence.”
The one word he said to me was: “Attachment.”
I was addicted to water. What do I mean by this? The destruction working was a waste of resources. I became fixated on the things that caused me to be angry because I didn’t fully understand how to apply the situation to a method of understanding. Let’s get real—at the time, I didn’t want to. My problem was that I was constantly looking for validation of what I was physically instead of just knowing it for myself. I was attached to my body. I was attached to time. To my youth. To my past. All of these ever slipping through my hands like sand in an hourglass. I set myself up to be hurt. And I was put into a corner. I reacted on impulse without rationalization. I forgot my ethics. And more importantly I forgot myself. I was angry because I began to resent water’s absence. Ten years of work, come and gone. I had to let go. I had to stop being addicted to the past that made me who I was, and start living in the present in order to continue pulling myself forward towards the unknown matrix of the future. Change—is scary.
Attachment is the root. It is entropy. Attachment is fear. I should’ve known this. I had just forgotten.
My reactionary, impulsive, use of a destruction ritual was a Remanifestion of a negative pattern. It’s likely that I’ll do it again. But it’s also less likely that I won’t. Why? I have this experience to draw from. To actively change the course of the future. It’s here where I will stimulate growth within myself with the subtle self awareness to KNOW how I naturally want to react in situations like this. My capriciousness isn’t a newly discovered weakness. I had just forgot about it. Through this ordeal, I have come to recognize that it is there, and that it is mine.
The obsessive struggle. Why does it have to be obsessive? That only means that I am attached. And attachment? Attachment means standing still. That I want to stand still. Do I really?
Goethe wrote that:
“Until you discover and accept yourself fully, you won’t have the conviction or the courage to be free. As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.”
How do you learn to know yourself? You remember who you are. You remember what you need. You keep asking why, even when you don’t want to. To become, you must overcome.
If standing still means being destroyed when things change, when routine is broken, when water becomes scarce then I want nothing to do with it. It’s perfectly okay to be angry. Everyone gets angry. What is not okay is to become attached to things that cause that anger. Attachment is misery. It’s so very easy to destroy. It’s easy to stay addicted to water as we cross the deserts of ourselves, even if we know that that water is poisoned. What’s difficult is to build. To be the creator. To not mind matter, but to mind the self. That’s how you cross the desert and learn to finally live.
Our universe is an objective universe that occupies time and space. Dr. Stephen Flowers, an expert on the occult, defines the objective universe as, “the natural cosmos or world order[…]ruled by certain predictable laws manifested in the time/space continuum.” (Flowers ch. 1)
Infinite subjective universes exist within the objective universe. Dr. Flowers defines subjective universes as, “the ‘world’ of any sentient entity within the universe.” He further states that, “[t]here are as many subjective universes as there are sentient beings[…]anything that is the product of the subjective universe–individual or collective–will bear the mark of variation.” (Flowers ch. 1) Subjective “worlds” exist within each of us. Everyone has a different concept of the objective universe.
Subjective universes can interact with each other. Dr. Michael Aquino, Founder of the Temple of Set, states that, “as various people discuss [the objective universe], […]their subjective concepts concerning it will be exchanged. Thus subjective universes may themselves overlap.” (Aquino 63) This overlap drives human interactions.
Arguments occur when two or more individuals attempt to persuade one another that their subjective universe is the objective universe. People are more likely to engage in arguments if they feel that they are right. A person’s belief that they are right increases when they are in a familiar environment that supports their point of view. This is commonly referred to as the “home field advantage”.
Stasis–Fear in Opposition
People fear subjective universes that oppose their subjective universe. When subjective universes overlap, they change. Change is difficult because it represents unknown darkness.
The Egyptians called unknown darkness, Neheh–the eternal future. Neheh is ruled by the god Set. Set is a god of change. Set represents the unfamiliar. In contrast, Djet, or the unchangeable linear past, is ruled by the god Osiris. Osiris is a god of stasis. Osiris represents the familiar.
In the Egyptian tradition, Set murders Osiris. This is symbolically important because change overcomes stasis. Stasis in our subjective universe can only be overcome through exposure to other subjective universes.
The Internet as an Objective Universe
The internet is an objective universe. The internet is a matrix of networks that connects billions of devices together. It is a natural order ruled by predictable laws that manifest in the space/time continuum.
The law that controls the internet is the Internet Protocol Suite (“TCP/IP”). TCP/IP specifies standards for transmitting data over networks and is used as the basis for standard Internet protocols. TCP/IP is the skeleton of the internet. Without the support of TCP/IP nothing would exist within that space.
Websites are subjective universes of the internet. Websites are “worlds” created by sentient beings. There can be as many websites on the internet as there are people to make them. No two websites are exactly the same.
Facebook As A Secondary Objective Universe
Facebook is a subjective universe. However, Facebook is unique in that it is also a secondary objective universe. Facebook is a secondary objective universe because it contains a subjective “world” for each Facebook user. The subjective “worlds” that exist within Facebook are called profiles.
Every Facebook profile has several things common. These things include:
These fields are filled with information unique to every Facebook user. This information provides a mark of variation that defines a subjective universe. A Facebook profile is a subjective “world” of the user.
Facebook profiles give the user an illusion of a “home field advantage.” The illusion of “home field advantage” causes hubris in the average user. This provides a comfortable forum where the user feels required to aggressively defend any attempt by other users to discredit their subjective universe.
The Id Monster in Social Media
The possibility for personal attacks exists when two or more subjective universes overlap. Personal attacks are statements that directly challenge a subjective universe. Personal attacks can be intentional or unintentional.
The Facebook news feed lets users directly view the subjective universes of other users.
Many arguments on Facebook are caused by random statements that are improperly perceived as personal attacks. Due to the random nature of the Facebook news feed, it is a source for perceived personal attacks.
A person’s primal instincts take over when they are blindsided by unanticipated”personal attacks” A comment does not need to be directed at the viewer, or anyone in general. However, if a comment is perceived to be an attack on someone’s identity, they feel compelled to respond. This response can be accomplished in two ways: (1) by deleting the status update or comment from their news feed, (2) or by confronting the commenter.
Facing the Darkness of Opposition
When a person is exposed to a subjective universe that does not match their subjective universe, they must look inward–to the unfamiliar realm of Neheh.
People expose part of their subjective universes to the subjective universes of others when they communicate. Communication on Facebook takes place in comments. Comments effect subjective universes simply being brought into the objective universe that is Facebook.
Any movement where people collectively gather for or against something is an example of how this process works. People can force the subjective universes of others to conform with their own subjective universe. This is how entire populations of individuals can have very similar subjective universes.
When an idea is brought into the objective universe it creates change by influencing the subjective universes of other people. Ideas continue to exist after they are brought into the objective universe—they continue to exist and evolve.
People are uncomfortable with concepts that oppose their subjective universe because those concepts force them to look inward. People collide with unknown and foreign darkness when they look inward. That unknown and foreign darkness causes fear. This fear causes many people to avoid looking inward. They choose self-preservation (stasis) over personal growth (transformation).
Self-preservation requires people to stand up for their subjective universe–even if their subjective universe is wrong. Collectives of individuals that share the same beliefs avoid things that cause self-reflection. These groups regard the threat of foreign influence as adversarial because foreign influence is transformative. However, change does not have to totally annihilate what existed before. Change can come in the form of tolerance and understanding.
In The Art of War Sun Tzu wrote:
“It is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperiled in a hundred battles; if you do not know your enemies but do know yourself, you will win one and lose one; if you do not know your enemies nor yourself, you will be imperiled in every single battle.”
We must expose ourselves to the things that oppose us because that act reconfirms who we are. By enriching our perspectives it grants us the ability to carry on succinct arguments without the need for advantages. People who avoid change do so because it’s comfortable to remain in stasis. Becoming familiar with the ideals of our enemies promotes personal growth and transformation. As Set killed Osiris, we too must overcome stasis by exposing ourselves to the things that oppose us.
Aquino, Michael A. “Black Magic.” 2002. E-book.
Flowers, Stephen E. “Lords of the Left Hand Path: Forbidden Practices and Spiritual Heresies.” Bastrop: Lodestar, 2012. Kindle File.
Tzu, Sun. “The Art of War.” 2014. E-book.
Webb, Don. “The Seven Faces of Darkness: Practical Typhonian Magic” Smithville: Rûna-Raven Press, 1996. Print.
I’m very pleased to share a watercolor portrait I’ve been working on this weekend of Lilith. I regard Lilith as an important entity who’s own self-transformation is very much an integral aspect found in the Left Hand Path tradition.
In our quitter’s society its painfully simple to begin a project and never follow through towards the end goal. Being capable of sifting through the emotional baggage that comes with a “stay or go” mentality is a good take-off point towards arriving to acquiring the sheer belly fire and tenacity it takes to come full circle and complete the things we start.
Focus is a state of mind that remains the most tenuous and delicate balances in the process of bringing something into being. Many of us get up and put our valuable non-refundable time in at the office on a day-to-day basis. Going to work is an act we start and finish. By finishing our work, we effectively bring that thing into being. Work is real and tangible because we decided to get up in the morning and make it to the end of the day.
We are motivated to work for two reasons: because we have to, or because we want to. Work that is easy or lacks meaning to who we believe ourselves to be is the kind of work that we gravitate away from most. For the highly conscious, easy work doesn’t challenge our limits. Work that we view as below our station, such as collecting garbage for the city, or being a waitress at a hole-in-the-wall truckstop diner, lacks meaning because it reminds of of who we really are. Merely conscious individuals may be perfectly content holding jobs that are easy or less than desirable. That is okay, not everyone wants to be free from their sleeping, stimuli-addicted lives. Understanding that one is seeking something more from life, however, is the first step towards realizing that our genuine motivations are better spent elsewhere. That is–doing and becoming the things we want to be.
Think about all of the things you’ve ever wanted to do. There’s a lot of clutter in that big ‘ole mind of yours. Maybe you want to write a novel. Or master surfing, or learn to paint photo realistic landscapes. In a world with the miraculous curse that is Google at our fingertips, we can find extraordinary individuals who do any one of these things on a skill level far beyond our own ability. The first thing you need to realize is that the world at large is meant to distract us from what we should be doing to accomplish those things that we wish to complete during our finite lives. Refreshing our focus to complete something we’ve started will prevent us from exerting unnecessary and valuable energies on distractions.
Allowing distraction to leak into your meaningful work is caused by emotional servitude. Ipsissimus Don Webb of the Temple of Set refers to emotional servitude as working “only when ‘the mood is right,” however, “the Left Hand Path Initiate knows that he or she doesn’t follow his or her emotions, but that his emotions follow him.” (Webb 17) In other words, emotions are like dogs, and our wills, a leash. If something is easy, everyone does it. There is little emotional shock to our systems by seeking playful interaction with the accessible lazy existence. Difficulty, however, challenges our sensibilities, a pilgrim of the Left Hand Path seeks out “doing things that are difficult for the sheer power it gives.” (17) Therefore, only when we focus our wills to control our emotions will we be able to progress.
Medea, from Apollonius’s myth of the Golden Fleece represents an early mythological example of a Left Hand path initiate both afflicted by emotional servitude, and later by one who overcomes it. Hera’s scheme of having Eros shoot an arrow into Medea afflicting her with an unknown and naïve love for Jason is an example of her being lead around by her emotions. “Let us go to find Kypris! Let us confront her and urge her to speak to her son, in the hope that he can be persuaded to fire his arrows at the daughter of Aietes, the mistress of drugs, and so bewitch her with love for Jason.” (Apollonius 66) Arguably, Hera’s desire to help Jason by Medea’s infatuation is an allegory for Medea’s own daemonic self working against her, leading Medea to “persons that are desirable,” even though she doesn’t “recognize [Jason’s] qualities due to [his] surface manifestations.” (Webb 11)
Because Medea was overcome by emotion she couldn’t easily ascertain the nature of who Jason was on the surface level and he eventually betrays her after the in the events following the Argonautica. However, the young Medea possesses a strange duality, and attempts to resist Kypris’s bewitchment/programming at the medial level of her existence. “From her eyes flowed tears of pity, and within her the pain wore her away, smouldering through her flesh[…]where the ache and hurt drive deepest, where the tireless Loves shoot their pains into the heart. At one moment she thought that she would give [Jason] the drugs as charms against the bulls; then she would not, but would herself face death; then she would not die and would not give the drugs but with the calmness would endure her misery just as she was.” (Apollonius 84) Lashing out against her false predispositions of love for Jason she tries to talk herself into suicide, “much better would it be to end my life here in my room on this very night, in a death without explanation, and thus to escape all the bitter accusations before doing these awful, unimaginable things.” (84-5) This is her failed attempt to rebel, through suicide, against those things caused by Kypris’s unwanted programming. That is, those programs which are unrecognizable to her unchangeable self at the core level.
Medea alone spiritually finances Jason’s ill-fated quest for the golden fleece through magic. What is important to understand is that despite Medea’s clouded emotional state she is able to act decisively keeping in mind Jason’s promise to marry her. Medea’s magic is strong because she remains motivated and free from distraction having “no doubts how to act.” (85) The best example of this occurs in Crete where she places the evil eye upon the boulder throwing Talos, “Three times did she beseech and call upon [the Keres, devourers of spirit] with incantations, and three times with prayers. Her mind set upon evil, she cast a spell upon bronze Talos’s eyes with her malevolent glances; against him her teeth ground out bitter fury, and she sent out dark phantoms in the vehemence of her wrath.” (138)
While I would like to propose that Medea may have ended up being much more powerful had her heart not been overcome by Kypris’s magic, I believe that the experience of her emotions leading her around by the tongue equipped her with the ability to be much more decisive in the events following the Argonautica. Euripedes presents her as a woman no longer overcome by fear of pulling the so-called proverbial “trigger.” This incarnation of Medea is rebellious and vengeful, but she is also one awakened and completely in control of her emotions. In fact, she is so much in control that she is finally capable of bypassing Kypris’s programming at the medial level. Ipsissimus Webb proposes that “magical happiness is the state of knowing who you are” (Webb 9) on the medial level of the self. Breaking free from this programming, Medea begins to examine her motivations because she has finally discovered how to “know [her] character” and arrive at magical happiness. (9) “Things have gone badly every way. No doubt of that[…]Do you think I would ever have fawned on that man unless I had some end to gain or profit in it? I would not even spoken or touched him with my hands.” (Euripides 12-3) This is Medea’s core level dynamism appearing–blossoming for the very first time.
Apollonius’s allegory of Medea’s prospective self-murder represents her lack of motivation to complete something she started. It is important to note, however, that Medea was only considering suicide because her core self was compromised with Eros’s unwanted programming. Being in love with Jason, at her core level, was something she didnot desire. In Euripides’s incarnation of Medea she chooses a path of self-transformation in which she will “make dead bodies” (Euripides 13) of her enemies which includes killing off the civilized programmed version of herself with a corrosive poison “of-all devouring fire.” (38) Jason’s new bride, Glauce, mirrors the sort of woman Medea could’ve become had she not sorted through the emotional clutter of the medial self and chose a path of self-transformation. Glauce “took the gorgeous robe and dressed herself in it, and put the golden crown around her curly locks, and arranged the set of the hair in the shining mirror, and smiled at the lifeless image of herself in it.” (37-8) The corrosive poison transforms Glauce during the course of this scene and is described as “hard to be recognized[…]from the top of her head there oozed out blood and fire mixed together. Like the drops of pine-bark, so the flesh from her bones dropped away, torn by the hidden fang of poison.” (39)
The deaths of Medea’s children and Glauce represent the emotional clutter of her medial self. By removing them from the equation she is capable of regaining her true self at the core level by becoming wholly autonomous, “a traitress to [her] father and [her] native land” (43) and to Greek society. No longer bound by the dregs of her programming, Medea emerges as an individual against the whole of humanity–highly conscious and highly antinomian.
The highly conscious individual is constantly at arms with forces that interfere with progress, especially those forces that exist within our medial selves. The first step on the road towards self-transformation is shedding emotional servitude. We can accomplish this through the not-so-simple act of “completing the circle.” That is, committing ourselves to finish what we start even if unwanted programming that exists within the medial level of the self tells us otherwise. The Left Hand Path is a boundless sea cloaked by darkness. As a witch, staying motivated to accomplish a task is remaining afloat in this sea. Losing motivation, however, whether it be from lack of interest or lack of drive is to drown there.
The Satanic Puritan
Apollonius of Rhodes. “Jason and the Golden Fleece.” Trans. Richard Hunter. New York: Oxford University Press, 1998. Print.
Euripides. “Medea.” Trans. Rex Warner. New York: Dover Publications, 1993. Print.
Webb, Don. “Uncle Setnakt’s Essential Guide to the Left Hand Path.” Smithville: Rûna-Raven Press, 1999. Print.
When I hear the word Witchcraft I think about Salem, Massachusetts. Not Arthur Miller’s Salem. Not the tourist trap Salem. Satan’s Salem. My first visit there in 1996 was an experience that somehow awakened something within me that changed my life from that point on. It was there during my first visit that I began a lifelong interest in magick. As a child, I always felt attuned to things I did not understand. I was overly inquisitive, always in search for answers to questions that couldn’t easily be solved. Visiting Salem allowed me to view the world differently, helping me to recognize the things I didn’t understand for what they really were. Darkness. The unknown. Magick. Personal truth. Damnation means never coming to a full realization of myself. Never exposing myself to things that make me feel uncomfortable. It’s a simple task to discern one’s life fully exposed in the transparent light of truth. Seeking truth, however, in the certain darkness can be challenging and uncomfortable.
Perhaps Salem’s truth lies in the distant past, before the sensationalized trials of 1692-3. Out there in those woods, in a new world, in the distant, deep, darkened past lay untouched wilderness, reeling with the pulse of Satanic energy. To the puritans, the woods were challenging and uncomfortable. Uncertain and opaque. Evil was the unknown darkness. A future unseen. Predestination was a thing for the puritan Christians. It was horribly obvious that they wanted no secrets between themselves and between their god. The woods embodied a complete opposition to those things. If it had to be done, traversing the forest was preferable during the day because the night brought a certain uncertainty. The woods were “all as lonely could be; and there is this peculiarity in such a solitude, that the traveler knows not who may be concealed by the innumerable trunks and the thick boughs overhead; so that, with lonely footsteps he may yet be passing through an unseen multitude.” (Hawthorne 1264)
I believe the puritans understood the left-hand path through those things in which they suppressed within themselves. Many false accusations of witchcraft in the seventeenth century arose from persecuting those individuals who exhibited those things that puritans viewed as unclean, or perhaps different. Those people who may have possessed some aspect that made them outliers from the clear cut, god-fearing puritan ideal. Through this understanding, an underground antinomian culture arose from within the psyche of the American spirit.
The highly conscious American reaches for the unknown and embraces it. Predestination, or the idea of knowing the outcome of some ultimate fate is something a self-styled Satanic witch like myself refuses to accept. As a pilgrim of the left-hand path I seek to not only create my fate, but to be master of it. Master of who I am to become, and how I will ultimately arrive into that state of becoming. I seek to reconcile myself with the unknown, to travel the wilderness of the self with the stars and moon above me, and to gaze into the darkness of myself and find gold there.
Hawthorne, Nathaniel. “Young Goodman Brown.” The Norton Anthology of American Literature: Sixth Edition. Ed. Nina Baym. New York: Norton, 2003. 1263-1272. Print.