Score One For Fort:


On this date, in 1888, according to the Madras Mail, pieces of bricks fell into a Pondicherry classroom in the presence of many investigators. 

One brick marked with a white cross was placed in the centre of the room; a similar-sized brick, marked with a black cross, dropped out of the air onto the first brick. In reference to such appearances in closed rooms, Charles Fort said: 'Oh, yes, I have heard of 'the fourth dimension,' but I am going to do myself some credit by not lugging in that particular way of showing that I don't know what I am writing about.'

BOGOTA (Reuters) – Two clowns were shot and killed by an unidentified gunman during their performance at a traveling circus in the eastern Colombian town of Cucuta, police said Wednesday.

The gunman burst into the Circo del Sol de Cali Monday night and shot the clowns in front of an audience of 20 to 50 people, local police chief Jose Humberto Henao told Reuters. One of the clowns was killed instantly and the second died the next day in hospital.

“The killings had little to do with the show the victims were performing at the time of the incident,” Henao said in a telephone interview. “We are investigating the motive.”

With an entrance fee of under 50 U.S. cents, Circo del Sol de Cali attracts mostly poor Colombians. It pitched it tents in Cucuta, near the border with Venezuela, earlier this month.

“The clowns came out to give their show and then this guy came out shooting them,” one audience member told local television. “It was ghastly.”

Count YooHoo In Point Pleasant

Hoopla:

Sweet Bela Lugosi’s backhair! It seems like I haven’t spoken to you in yurts and yurts. It took me literally ages to shake those goddam Grapes of Wrath – by the way, I think they MIGHT have actually been associated with that band you mentioned, does the name “Chris ‘Mister’ Hooper” mean anything to you?

I shook the group of mammary-obsessed maniacs in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, and took refuge in a homeless shelter, if it was good enough for Coleslaw, it was good enough for me. It did smell vaguely of urine, but to be quite honest, it could have been me: those Grapes of Wraths were savages, man, I tell you: and they made me a savage to boot. It wasn’t pretty.

The word twerp originally meant someone who bit bubbles of flatulence in bathtubs: isn’t that a bizarrely exact description?

Where was I?

Good lord, I haven’t even gotten to the point yet. Verbosity is not an admirable trait, Hoopla, don’t let anyone tell you different. Christ: The point: In the shelter I met a man who I thought at first to be an Al Jolson impersonator, but it turns out there was a much more simple explanation: he was simply covered from head to toe in the ashes of burned corpses.

But, let’s be perfectly honest, my good Baron, who hasn’t that happened to? On occasion?

The man’s name was Brian Jolson (it turns out he was actually Al Jolson’s grandson, but it was just a “coincidence”), he was part of a cult, or sect, or religion called the Aghori, who worship Shiva, and consider everything holy, including eating corpses, copulating with corpses, playing Five Card Stud with corpses, and swimming in shit. I don’t mind the Five Card Stud part, to be perfectly honest.

Brian cruises around looking for women on their – well, their time if you . . . get me . . . he performes tantric yoga with the women, which he describes as a sacred Aghori rite entitled “Surfing The Crimson Wave”. That’s the English phrasing for it anyway, that’s what Brian tells me. He hasn’t had much luck since I’ve been with him. Well, if you consider finding an abandoned 1978 Pinto near some railroad tracks “luck”, then he has some luck . . . but not in the area he would probably prefer.

Anyway, where was I? Right.

Money.

I need you to wire me some money, so I can get the Christ away from this freak, he’s eyeing me up rather strangely. I was well fed when with the Grapes of Wrath. Maybe too well fed.

Send money soon.

Count YooHoo, K.S.C., S.H., H.M.
Esoteric Order Of Eris, Van Vliet Cabal

Spotted In Jamaica:

If I Told You...

“if i told you..absolutely they would kill me…and no tin hat would save me”
– nikola tesla

the other night i was watching the demons crawl out of the woodwork again, which is why caulking is so damned important. if you caulk it hard enough and tight enough the demons can’t get out of the fucking walls and suck your one remaining eyeball right out of your head. anyway, one of these demons kind of oozed up to me and said, “thayne, old buddy. you do realize that your very own government killed nikola tesla right? they let him live long enough to drain his brains dry of every idea he ever had, and then they killed him.”

“and you’re next boy. you’re next. only they won’t keep you alive long enough for you to spit. because after all, what does the uncle sammy want with heated toilet paper, floating lawn chairs and seeing-eye armadillos? well okay, so they might like the tp idea, but you know damn well they’d keep it for the bigwigs and let the little fellows continue to freeze their nuts off, right? of course right.”

and i thought to myself, thayne, i thought, big brother is everywhere. and it’s just like the old lady always says “goddammit, leave your glass eye at home next time you go on a bender down at harold’s lounge or it’s just dejavu like when the cops haul you away and you kick the cop in the knee and they cuff your feet together so even if you kick open the back door of the cop car and try to hop away (again), the truth is the police can run faster than you when you’re cuffed at the ankles. and you know they’ll throw you back in the drunk tank where they don’t care what happened to your glass eye, or maybe they took it and spit on it or are saving it for their hallooween costumes, or for a trophy. yeah, that’s it a trophy eye hanging on the wall of the break room down at the jail. even if you get it back you don’t know where it’s been.”

so anyway, back to nikola tesla, the fucking genius who immigrated here from Serbia , and either knew transmigration or teleportation or else had tunnels under his house that led to his secret lab. but then one day he decided to do things much as an ordinary man would and got hit by a car while crossing the road and died in the street like a dog and the fbi came in and took all his papers and his secrets when they raided his place. but he got revenge and the last laugh because the fuckers tried to photograph tesla in his casket and the photo blurred and they were unable to make the camera focus on his face. there’s not one death picture of his face which is the way he wanted it. the question that begs here is this: what good is the last laugh if you’re dead?

the moral of this rant is listen to your old lady, but not her mother. leave your glass eye at home, never forget your ankles are cuffed and the man can run faster, caulk those cracks in the woodwork, dig your tunnels deep and don’t cross the road like everyone else, or the they’ll get you next.

your friend, 

thayne

Discordianism And Thelema

Are Discordianism and Thelema representative of emerging consensus belief in the 21st Century?

by: Tristram Burden

Introduction

The following is an analysis of two new religious movements that emerged in the 20th Century, Discordianism and Thelema. It is the authors intention to assess the cultural functions of these movements, and also to demonstrate that in the modern age of secularisation and the breaking apart of old social infrastructures (for example the family and the church), the structure, practices and particularly the philosophies of these two movements are representative of the possible future of religion and also the possible future of consensus belief, or non-belief, of western society. No attempt is made at forecasting when this change in human belief systems will occur, but certain trends will be analysed in conjunction with the tenets of Discordianism and Thelema, to demonstrate the emergence of these philosophies as an emerging standard of faith, or non-faith. A profile of each religion will be given, detailing its main tenets, how it was founded, and the practices that accompany them. The practices involved in both religions will be treated under one heading, as this involves a discussion of the current trends in Ritual Magick and Mysticism, and ties in strongly with the actual purpose of both religions.

What is Discordianism?

“If Religion is the opium of the masses, Discordianism is the marijuana of the lunatic fringe.”

In 1958, Kerry Thornley and Gregory Hill (known within the Discordian movement as, respectively, Omar Khayyam Ravenhurst and Malaclypse the Younger) were sitting drinking coffee in an all-night bowling alley, discussing the amount of confusion in their lives, when time appeared to freeze, and they perceived themselves as the only two people moving. After a sudden flash of light, and an ensuing sensation of peace and stillness, a chimpanzee holding a scroll walked into the bowling alley, and proclaimed to them the following:

“Gentlemen, why does Pickering’s moon go about in reverse orbit? Gentlemen, there are nipples on your chest; do you give milk? And what, pray tell, gentlemen, is to be done about Heisenberg’s Law? SOMEBODY HAD TO PUT ALL THIS CONFUSION HERE!”

Proceeding this outburst, the chimpanzee unrolled the scroll he held, on which was transcribed The Sacred Chao. The two then watched the chimpanzee explode, and they lost consciousness.

After conducting extensive research about the symbol, discovering only its relationship with the Taoist Yin-Yang, and the symbolism of the Pentagon and the golden apple inscribed with the Greek word Kalisti (To The Prettiest One), they were visited by the Goddess Eris Discordia, who told them, among other things: “Tell constricted mankind that there are no rules, unless they choose to invent rules.”

The two men then ordained each other High Priests of their own madness, and the Discordian society was created.

Discordianism has been described as either a joke disguised as a religion or a religion disguised as a joke. Such ambiguity is found throughout Discordian literature. It presents itself as a semantic meta-puzzle which all enquirers are encouraged to sift through and solve.

“The Discordian take on reality is that there is no reality as most people understand it. ‘Reality implies some kind of structure, some sort of guideposts. There is no structure. No bird, no song and no cage. And there is no goddess, so I guess this is all a waste of time. You might as well go home now.” Mao Kung Pao

The religion of Discordianism is centred upon the Greek goddess Eris, recognised by the Romans as Discordia, who acts through mediums of chaos, confusion and mayhem. This is partly a semantic attack on the idea of a male god, Yahweh or Allah, obsessed with order. The primary discourse evinced in Discordianism is that everything follows a pattern of total disorder, and that reality is entirely up to the perceiver. It is the Discordian view that the main religions in the west have been dominated by ideas of order and patriarchy, and that ideas of matriarchy and chaos deserve a chance. These are Discordian catmas, as opposed to dogmas.

Discordian Practice

“Is Eris true?”

“Everything is true.”

“Even false things?”

“Even false things are true.”

“How can that be?”

“I don’t know man, I didn’t do it.”

- Malaclypse the Younger (Gregory Hill) in conversation with Greater Poop.

The bible of the discordian movement is the “Principia Discordia, or How I found the Goddess and what I did to Her once I found Her.” Gregory Hill printed the first copies of the Principia Discordia on Dallas District Attorney Jim Garrison’s Xerox machine in 1963. It immediately achieved a wide notoriety in the subculture of the 1960’s, and became something of a cult classic. Between 1963 and the printing of the fourth edition in 1969, only 3,125 copies were sold. It has since been reprinted five times, internationally, and this serves as a possible indication of the Discordian movements membership, though this may reveal more about its popularity than actual membership. Discordianism has become particularly popular among the modern community of Chaos Magicians, to be discussed in further in part 2 of this article. Since there are no organised bodies in Discordianism, and considering that anybody can proclaim themselves or anybody else a High Priest or a saint (but not a prophet – there is a no-profit rule running through Discordianism), verifying the exact membership is close to impossible. Many, many people, it is theorized, are probably Discordian without knowing it, being proclaimed so by other Discordians – which abides entirely by the Discordian rule of no rules.

The goal of Discordianism is to confuse the time-bending semantic circuit (using Timothy Leary’s 8-cicuit model of consciousness) until a state of tabula rasa, or heightened input sensitivity, is reached, whereby the Discordian recognises that whatever one believes, one projects into the world faultlessly. Accordingly, belief is everything, and surrendering belief produces a brain state whereby everything the experiencer experiences is reinterpreted in the light of chaos.

“The Real Reality is there, but everything you know about “it” is completely in your mind and yours to do with as you like.

Conceptualisation is art, and YOU ARE THE ARTIST.

Conviction causes convicts.”

- Principia Discordia

What is Thelema?

The reader is referred to Liber Oz for a comprehensive summary of the main tenets of Thelema. The two phrases that bind these principles are “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law”, and “Love is the Law, love under will,” both of which are quotes from the Thelemic bible, The Book of the Law, referred to here as Liber Al.

Thelema is not entirely recognised as a religion (and is only refered to as such here on account of its mythic language and focus upon spiritual practice) due to the minority that espouse its doctrine. But, as will be shown below, its popularity may well be rising steadily. The religion contains echoes of Gnosticism and Hermeticism, particularly overt in its rites. To do one’s True Will, the major focus of the religion, is analogous to acquiring a daemon, in the Hermetic sense, or contact with the Higher Self in general Mystical terminology. It holds that we behave like stars (“Every man and every woman is a star.” This is very similar to Manichean tradition.), in that each individual has their own particular orbit, or path to follow, during their existence – the primary focus of existence for a Thelemite is to discover this orbit and to act entirely within this orbit. The causes of suffering in the world are a consequence of the majority of mankind existing unawares of their true orbit, and thus causing friction by interfering with other peoples orbits. To discover your True Will is identical to enlightenment in the Buddhist tradition, or attaining the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel in the modern Western Magickal Tradition. In Thelemic terms, then, to “do thy will”, is to attain a level of mystical illumination whereby the Thelemite is in unobstructed contact with his/her supra-mundane self.

The origins of the religion are tied into the work of Aleister Crowley, a man still regarded with suspicion (usually very hostile) in modern day society, but who can be regarded as simply a modern mystic in the tradition of Madame Blavatsky, G.I. Gurdjieff and Krishnamurti, even though these three, especially the latter, are regarded with less cynicism. There is no overriding reason to regard Crowley with either more or less suspicion than these mystics.

In 1903, while in Cairo with his pregnant wife, Rose, Crowley performed a magical operation designed to bring to visible appearance certain entities for Rose, who had no experience of such phenomena. The operation failed, and instead Rose fell into a trance-state. Crowley questioned her intimately, while in this trance, about the details of the Egyptian Mythos, which Rose had begun to show signs of knowing, even though she had, according to Crowley, no previous knowledge of it. The next day, while Rose still exhibited signs of being in trance, Crowley decided they both should visit Cairo’s Boulak museum, in order to further test her new-found extensive knowledge of Egyptian mythology. The god Horus was referred to in particular by Rose as requesting Crowley to perform a ritual designed to evoke him, which Crowley met with his characteristic scepticism. The exhibit number she pointed out was numbered 666 – this number had special connotations to Crowley, who had been styling himself the Beast 666 for a number of years. This and various other occurrences encouraged Crowley to take notice of what Rose was espousing. The incident culminated in 1904 when Crowley performed the invocation requested to him. The result of this was the dictation of the Book of the Law, Liber Al, by an entity known as Aiwass, and is the central text of the religion of Thelema.

The mythology used in Thelema is borrowed from Egyptian mythology, “for literary convenience” and the Revelation of St John the Divine from the Bible. The sky goddess Nuit; Hadit, a winged globe at the heart of Nuit, and Horus, the crowned and conquering child; Mega Therion, The Great Beast 666, and the Scarlet Women, Babalon, The Whore Archetype. Detailed analysis of these concepts is beyond this treatise, but the reader is discouraged from attributing classic definitions of Satanism to such concepts as The Beast 666.

Thelemic Practice

The practice of Thelema is largely the domain of people who work within the Western Magical Tradition. Two particular ‘official’ bodies are, though, existent, whose self-proclaimed mission, among other goals, is to spread The Law of Thelema. These bodies are the Ordo Templi Orientis and the Argenteum Astrum. The latter was formed from the ashes of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, a quasi-Masonic society that taught Ceremonial Magick. The O.T.O. is also a Masonic society, though many different orders exist, one of which, the Typhonian O.T.O., has discarded the Masonic structure all together. In the United States, the Caliphate O.T.O. has now a tax-exempt status, making it, in US constitutions, a recognised religious organisation. There is always a steady increase in membership and the establishment of lodges. It should be bore in mind that this is a representation of only one OTO, and that other bodies do exist, on an international scale.

To be a Thelemite does not require membership of either of these orders. As the key Law to Thelema propounds, it is entirely up to the individual whether or not he or she wishes to be formally initiated into the Western Magickal Tradition. Thelemic authors like Maggie Ingalls and Kenneth Grant encourage a self-initiatory journey. There is no authority in Thelema, though some bodies of the O.T.O. are prone to elevating Crowley to the status of a god, and propounding the dogma that Crowley himself despised, as his works bear out.

Thelema is essentially a mystical doctrine, encouraging the individual to become entirely self-responsible and self-aware. This awareness is achieved through a variety of techniques, incorporating Tantrism, Yoga, Gnostic and Jewish techniques of consciousness expansion. “Do what thou wilt” is not to be confused with “do what you like”, but rather is best seen in a mystical sense as, for instance, finding the Tao. Thelema teaches that the self is the ultimate authority, which is quite contrary to both the Judeo-Christian and Muslim traditions, and to the ‘established’ hierarchical structures in society. To be a Thelemite is to exist outside the laws that govern the general populace of humanity. With this message, it is understandable why Crowley is considered such a dangerous man in modern society.

Original Link

Lookey-Likeys

FROM: Ramses Colossus,
Quinti-Primi Illuminati, Hermes Trismegistus Cabal

TO: Baron von Hoopla, KSC
Esoteric Order Of Eris, Kaufman Kabal

In response to your recent query, yes, you are correct to doubt the authenticity of the video you saw, purporting to show the hanging of Saddam Hussein, it was in fact a fake. It was not really Saddam who hanged, but was instead what we in the Invisible College refer to as a “lookey-likey”.

Perhaps you have heard of the mid-90’s American film entitled Face Off?

The plot here is remarkably similar. Saddam Hussein was smuggled into the USA in 2004 CE and has his face switched with “comedian” Andy Dick, while Andy Dick had his face switched with Hussein’s, then was stuffed into the “spider hole” in Iraq. So, if Andy Dick seems to have been acting slightly erratically lately, now you know why.

And yes, it was Andy Dick who was hanged. No harm no foul, eh Hoops?

Here’s a tidbit for you and your imaginary readers: The man who fundedSaddam’s smuggling into the USA is a “lookey-like” himself . . . He was the man known to the world as Comte de St. Germain; he was the man some knew as Giuseppe Balsamo, but was better known as Count Cagliostro; he told Edgar Allen Poe that his name was Arthur Gordon Pym; some knew him as Indian Prince Dakkar, the basis for Captain Nemo; he was the inventor of the enormous airships spotted in the skies all over North America in the second half of the Nineteenth Century; he got Charles Fort interested in the paranormal; he taught Harry Houdini everything he knew; he invented rock n roll in 1948; he staged the Roswell Incident, and then headed the MJ-12 investigation into the same incident; he was the man with the umbrella at the JFK Assassination; he convinced Bob Dylan to goelectric; he turned Charlie Manson onto LSD; he introduced Timothy Learyto the 8-Circuit Model of Human Consciousness; he telepathicallycontacted both Philip K. Dick and 
Robert Anton Wilson; he introduced Pierre Plantard to the concept of thePriory of Sion; he invented both Disco and Punk Music; he trained the rabid mutant amphibious rabbit which attacked President Jimmy Carter; he toldCarlos Castenada that his name was Don Juan Matus; he convinced George Lucas to make Howard the Duck; and then in 1990, when an almost unknown actor decided to kill himself after being fired from the Americansitcom Roseanne he took the man’s face, and assumed his life, in a desire to live a relaxing, life of luxury . . . that man? None other than George Clooney. Of course, his real name is WiseAss Pomal Coleslaw

Toodles,

Ramses

King Of The Booze On: BOOZE

It’s around this time of the year that people around the world really begin to pay attention to my subjects: the many liquors, beers, and wines of the world. I see people raising the wrist all over town, and hear people hiccup to one another “T’is the Season!” – which warms both the cockles of my heart, and the heart of my cockles. It pleases me to know that I can in some way bring joy to people at the time of their year when they celebrate the birth of a 40th century jewish stone mason.

However, a certain story in the news which came to my attention recently has brought me some dismay – I don’t like to see my subjects besmirched in the media, after all. The story is -of course- the recent ’scandal’ surrounding Miss USA, Tara Conner. Miss Conner has been stomped from all sides by the media in the last week or so for doing no more than ‘drinking under age’ . . . something any well-rounded individual has done in their own past (easily forgotten when on the witch-hunt bandwagon). How under age was she exactly? About a week; Tara turned 21 (the abominably high legal age in most US states) this past MONDAY. She almost got dumped as Miss USA for drinking a week before her birthday.

I feel at this point it would be prudent to remind my readers that Eris is also the goddess of Bureaucracy.

My point, though, is not about her drinking under age. My point, rather, is directed at the last sentence in the most recent article I read about the incident: “Miss Conner will be entering rehab.” She will be WHAT? Entering REHAB? For drinking a WEEK before her LEGAL BIRTHDAY? What in the goddess’ name could be the point of this? Are there not hundreds, nay, THOUSANDS of people more legitimately needing rehab counseling than this poor woman? She should be drinking for krist’s sake! SHE’S 21! I don’t even remember the age of twenty-one.

This obsession with rehab has grown to monumental proportions. There are two things the people of North America love: someone entering rehab, and someone forced to apologize.

I need a drink.

Anonymous Hermit Day

Today is the day when all intelligent aspiring hermits remember the life of Paul of Latrus, and vow never to repeat his mistakes. Paul had always wanted to be a hermit, ever since he was knee-high to a pariah, and had been hording hermitty things in preparation for years: lanterns, furs, nuts and berries, pornographic etchings for those long winter solstice nights . . . not to mention dreaming up strange and glorious manifestations of his chosen deity’s awesome powers; truly an important part of a hermit’s repertoire.

He was more than ready for life in solitude when he finally waved goodbye to his family and friends and trudged up the mountain to the cave which would be his home, sanctuary, and bathroom for the rest of his life; but he hadn’t anticipated the biggest problem that every prospective hermit faces: fame.

Paul found it very difficult to rinse his socks out in the nearby River Hotsauce without hordes of curious onlookers watching his every move; he was unable to meditate while standing on his head -as was his wont- without fans asking “does it make your face hot?” or “can you hear China now?”; he wasn’t able to chant through the Trumps of the Tarot without people shouting out cards which didn’t exist (like ‘Halitosis’ and ‘Stubbed-Toe’) in a deluded attempt to help him out. In short, his new career as a hermit was already the pits.

Paul had an idea. He decided the best way to get rid of the crowd of gawkers was to frighten them away with his awesome connection to the Higher Beings, and promptly began to start vomiting blood everywhere and anywhere he went. True, he was dizzy, but he felt that he would finally have the solitude he had constantly craved.

Did it work for Paul of Latrus, I can almost hear you ask . . . of course it didn’t, did you read the opening sentence? His stardom, of course, rose to heights he had never dreamed of, and he was a constant attraction in his part of the land for the rest of his life, with an entire industry built up around him: selling candy apples, pony rides, face-painting, etc.

So, let this 30th of Chico be a lesson to all prospective hermits: if you are planning to walk off into the woods to become holy, KEEP IT TO YOURSELF, dammit!

The Eris Society

I stumbled across this group about a year ago, meant to look into them more, then completely forgot about it, as is my unfortunate wont. For some reason I stumbled across them again last week and decided to test the waters with them . . . they didn’t seem like the kind of group open to just anyone but I was interested to see. I suspected they couldn’t be as insufferable as the GD, but who knows?

I filled out the online application form, and was quite pleased that I was able to list “The creation of the Nation of Quebec” as one, feeling certain this would gain me access to the group. Just to be safe, I made sure to include my desire to give a speech outlining the esoteric aspects of the Carry On film series – knowing that it would cinch the deal . . .

Well, it’s been over a week and I still haven’t heard back from the Eris Society . . . I guess my initial reaction must be right, I guess they are just fat, spoiled, middle-aged hippies who feel guilty that they sold out so early and are now desperately attempting to cling to the last faded vestiges of their youthful anarchism.

I hope they read up on Eris thoroughly, though, before they decided to take her as their namesake – she has a way of dealing with people who pay only lip service.

A PSA from Wilhelm Reich:

Listen, Little Man: Your heritage is a burning diamond in your hand.

See yourself as you really are. Listen to what none of your leaders and representatives dares tell you: You are a “little, common man.” Understand the double meaning of these words: “little” and “common.”

You are afflicted with the emotional plague. You are sick, very sick, Little Man. It is not your fault. But it is your responsibility to rid yourself of this sickness.

You confuse the right to free speech and to criticism with irresponsible talk and poor jokes. He who has to protect the living against the emotional plague has to learn to use the right to free speech as we enjoy it in America at least as well for the good as the emotional plague misuses it for the bad. Granted equal right in the expression of opinion, the rational finally must win out.

What is important is not individual treatment but the prevention of mental disorders. You have locked up the crazy people, and the normal people manage this world. Who, then, is to blame for all the misery?

You have begun to play a governing role on this earth. It is on your thinking and your actions that the future of humanity depends. You give impotent people with evil intentions the power to represent you. Only too late do you realize that again and again you are being defrauded. You must come to realize that you make your little men your own oppressors, and that you made martyrs out of your truly great men.

You are different from the really great man in only one thing: The great man knows when and in what he is a little man. The little man does not know that he is little, and he is afraid of knowing it.

For you are afraid of life, Little Man, deadly afraid. You will murder it in the belief of doing it for the sake of “socialism,” or “the state,” or “national honor,” or “the glory of God.”

I recognized the deadly fear of the living in you, a fear which always makes you set out correctly and end wrongly. You had the happiness of humanity in your hands, and you have gambled it away. You had the world in your hands, and at the end you dropped your atom bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Through the centuries, you will shed blood where life should be protected, and will believe that you achieve freedom with the help of the hangman; thus you will find yourself again and again in the same morass.

I found what makes you a slave: YOU ARE YOUR OWN SLAVE-DRIVER. I have ceased to be willing to die for your freedom to be anybody’s slave. I tell you: Only you yourself can be your liberator!

You yourself create all your misery, hour after hour, day after day. You think the goal justifies the means. You are wrong: The goal is in the path on which you arrive at it. Every step of today is your life of tomorrow. You stand on your head and you believe yourself dancing into the realm of freedom.

You could have long since become the master of your existence, if only your thinking were in the direction of truth. You are cowardly in your thinking, Little Man, because real thinking is accompanied by bodily feelings, and you are afraid of your body. Many great men have told you: Go back to your origin – listen to your inner voice – follow your true feelings – cherish love.

The kindly individual believes that all people are kindly and act accordingly. The plague individual believes that all people lie, swindle, steal and crave power. Clearly, then, the living is at a disadvantage and in danger.

There is only one antidote to the germs of the emotional plague in the mass individual: his own feeling of living life. The living does not ask for power but for its proper role in human life. It is based on the three pillars of love, work and knowledge.

You beg for happiness in life, but security is more important to you, even if it costs you your spine or your life. Your life will be good and secure when aliveness will mean more to you than security; love more than money; your freedom more than party line or public opinion; when your thinking will be in harmony with your feelings; when the teachers of your children will be better paid than the politicians; when you will have more respect for the love between man and woman than for a marriage license.

You will no longer believe that you “don’t count.” You will know and advocate your knowledge that you are the bearer of human society. Don’t run away. Don’t be afraid. It is not so terrible to be the responsible bearer of human society. Inflated leaders would have no soldiers and no arms if you clearly knew, and stood up for your knowledge, that a field has to yield wheat and a factory furniture or shoes, and not arms. All you have to do is to continue what you have always done and always want to do: to do your work, to let your children grow up happily, to love your mate.

You are GREAT, Little Man, when you are not small and petty. You are great when you carry on your trade lovingly, when you enjoy carving and building and painting and decorating and sowing, when you enjoy the blue sky and the deer and the dew and music and dancing, your growing children and the beautiful body of your woman or your man, when you learn to understand and think about life. You are great when you hold your grandchildren on your knees and tell them about times long past, when you look into an uncertain future with their trusting childlike curiosity, when you lull your newborn to sleep, when you sing the good old folk songs.

Follow the voice of your heart, even if it leads you off the path of timid souls. Do not become hard and embittered, even if life tortures you at times. There is only one thing that counts:

to live one’s life well and happily.

excerpt from “Listen, Little Man” by Wilhelm Reich, 5948 YD

Dissecting Movie Quotes

It has been said by many so-called ‘adepts’ that big-T Truth can be found anywhere, if you know where to look for it. With that in mind, I decided to contemplate my favourite movie quote of all time, as seemingly inane as it is, which is from ‘The Shining’(1980), and is: “Pink and Gold are my favorite colors.”

The quotation wouldn’t be inappropriate as a code used to express interest in matters of alchemical knowledge, as the sentence expresses just such an interest in a somewhat vague, but still rather direct manner:

The sentence is a formula for the alchemical method of enlightenment. The colours are obviously the central point of the quote, which is apt as colour was so important to ancient alchemists since before the advent of modern chemistry the changing of colour often provided the only proof of transformation in an experiment.

While pink is often associated with strictly feminine principles it actually represents, in alchemy, the union of opposites: red, the kingly colour, is associated with sulphur and the sun; while white is the feminine, the queen of the opus, associated with mercury and the moon. Together, joined in union, they are pink – this is literally the motto ‘Solve et Coagula’ at work.

Gold is more obviously linked to alchemy for the average cabbage on the street, being the known goal of transmutationists throughout history, but Carl Jung, in “Psychology and Alchemy”, launched a bold attack on the notion of alchemy as a quest for physical gold; he claimed the alchemists were perpetually using code and riddle to disguise the true goal: philosophical gold (lapis aethereus).

So, ‘gold’ is essentially the desired end product of the alchemical quest, and ‘pink’ is the method to obtain the ‘gold’. The formula is complete.

Grab Your Pens and Paper: "The Definition"

“When someone says “I identify as Discordian,” or whatnot, that is a short, buzz-wordy way of saying, “if you want to know who I am and what I am about, you’re gonna have to ask me directly. I am not a definition in a book, I am not a collective, I am not a broad brushstroke of society. I will not be sorted, filed, stamped, briefed, de-briefed, or numbered.”

-LMNO

The Esoteric Significance Of "Inky Pinky Ponky"

by: LMNO

Inky Pinky Ponky
Daddy bought a donkey.
Donkey died, Daddy cried.
Inky Pinky Ponky


There are a plethora of Twos rampant in this Epic Chant: The lead line (three words) is repeated (twice), and the words “Donkey” and “Daddy” are also repeated.

Please notice, five words, twice repeated. So much for the Law of Fives.

So, Two on the Tree of life is Chockma, Wisdom. The magical image is the Bearded Patriarch– this is obviously the “Daddy” of the Screed.

What did Wisdom do? It bought a Donkey. The donkey, of course is the talking donkey of Balaam in the Book of Numbers. This donkey quailed before YHWH, and was beaten by Balaam, for he did not see. In this, we can easily see that Wisdom is blind to the Lord, and only the stubborn nature can push through the suffering of life to achieve enlightenment.

The death of the Donkey then, is the death of the spirit in the face of the material world. Surely, wisdom must weep when it is overcome by the mundane.

America’s Next Top Discordian

Score another one for individuality! The BRAVO! Channel has just announced its next entry into the increasingly saturated reality-tv contest market with it’s newest mid-season replacement: America’s Next Top Discordian, starting January 5, 2007.

Contestants have not been announced at this date, and it is unclear where try-outs were held at this point, but the decidedly unconventional judges panel announced is already raising eyebrows in the Discordian/Erisian/Mummuian/SubGenii community: The three (as yet unconfirmed) judges of the “do-your-own-thing-boldly-loudly-and-hopefully-annoyingly” program are a wheelchair-bound Robert Anton Wilson, drag queen superstar RuPaul Charles, and hopefully taking the Simon Cowell ‘crusty judge’ place in the panel is the founder of the Church Of The SubGenius, Rev. Ivan Stang.

No word at this point about what the winner of the contest would claim as a prize, but reliable rumor is naming the country of Chad as a top contender.

America’s Next Top Discordian will run at Mondays at 9pm EST, and Sunday afternoons at 2pm EST.

Official Illuminati Correspondence?

To Hoopla:

THIS CORRESPONDENCE IS NOT INTENDED TO BE POSTED ON YOUR WEB LOG.

We have been monitoring your weblog for a long period of time, and feel it necessary to let you know that whomever is conversing with you under the moniker of the Illuminati is lying to you. There is only one Illuminati. There is nobody in our ranks with the name Ramses Colossus. So, unless you are writing the letters yourself you are being lied to.

The New World Order is a reality. It is being implemented slowly as I type this.

9/11 was just the first obvious step, there were several trials in the past which were successful.

Humanity has become much more ‘cabbagized’ than any of you ‘discordians’ even realize. Television was introduced to the public when it was realized how easily it induced a trance-state. The population of the world is being beamed the plans for our future one-world government at all times, in all programs.

Flying saucers are just the beginning.

Look to the stars.

Look to the rising sun.

We are everywhere.

Pay no attention to correspondences from others claiming to be the Illuminated Seers.

Pay very close attention to everything.

KING FELIX
ILLUMINATI

A Seinfeldian Moment

I had a rather Seinfeldian moment yesterday afternoon when I was in the coffee break room of the Head Temple of the Esoteric Order Of Eris with Dharma Jam. I was laughing about the paranoia now running rampant on a certain pagan message board I had been spending time on recently, and telling her how they had deleted an alt I had created (based on the Pumpkinite who attempted to abduct Count YooHoo in the summer) despite the fact that they had no evidence it was actually me.

“Can you image the nerve of banning someone because they thought it was me, but with no evidence?” I laughed.

“But, it IS you.” she stated, as she finished a crossword with one hand. In ink.

“Yes,” I said. “but, they don’t KNOW that. It’s really nervy. I’m going to have Faux Sloatman write a letter of outrage.”

“But,” she said again. “It IS YOU.”

I smiled. “I’m all types of people.”

For Those OF You Just Tuning In...

There is only one goddess, she is your goddess. Her name is Eris, and she’s crazy.

Aren’t we all?

She brings you a message:
You are free. Verily, you are as free as you choose to be. The rules of your society were created by you, not by the Multiverse. Follow them, or follow them not; but never forget they are your own creations, or surely they will crush you. Think for yourself. Wear a hat. Carry a big stick, just in case. I just flew in on the Noon Balloon from Banana City, thank you and good night.

May You Have Bats In Your Belfry Forevermore!

On The Subject Of: Existence

“The more unintelligent a man in, the less mysterious existence seems to him.”

-Arthur Schopenhauer

Count YooHoo Update

Hoopla:

How long has it been? Time seems to have stood still.

Has it been years? DECADES?

Good god, man, the pain and distress I’ve been put through, you have no idea. Why do you put me through this?

I barely made it away from those Pumpkinite bastards, somehow someone found out that I was a plant, and they went ballistic. I had to hide out in a rain ditch for weeks and weeks, living only off discarded cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon and Slim Jims which were scattered around the parking lot of a semi-deserted gas station.

Did I mention vibrators were originally considered medicinal?

Where was I? Oh, right, how I survived. I stayed alive on my meager rations, until I was saved by a boy named JoJo who was part of a group called the Grapes Of Wrath, they were almost as nutty as the Pumpkinites . . . They were waiting for the time when they had enough followers and were then going to travel across the country on foot helping people everywhere . . . a little like David Banner in the television show The Incredible Hulk, or like that other television show you are always on about, The Littlest Hobo.

For some reason they had been living in a barn for close to a hundred years, all living off breast milk. They kept the women permanently pregnant so they could always have an uninterrupted supply of ‘ambrosia’ as they referred to it. It was nauseating.

I admit, when I first nursed back to health on the tittie of a nineteen year old woman who looked like she could be on the cover of a magazine my disgust lessened slightly, but when I woke back up the revulsion was reborn anew . . . either the girl I was suckled on didn’t look as I had imagined, or they pulled me off her in my sleep and stuck me onto a woman who resembled one of the trees from the Wizard Of Oz.

I freaked.

I admit now, it was a slight over-reaction – I burned down the barn in my rage. The truly embarrassing part is that I got stuck under a beam which fell from the top of the barn, and the Grapes Of Wrath saved my life AGAIN. It took two more weeks of suckling to bring me back to what I consider life, or at least that’s what they told me.

We are all now traveling together. Do you know of anywhere that about 75 people (40 of them suckling) can stay for a few days? How big is your balcony?

-Count YooHoo, K.S.C., S.H., H.M.
Esoteric Order Of Eris, Van Vliet Cabal

YooHoo:

I just want some clarification, is this the BAND The Grapes Of Wrath? Because, if so, my balcony is very very small indeed. Barely big enough for St. Gulik to do his yoga.

-BVH

On The Subject Of: Questioning

With the unknown, one is confronted with danger, discomfort and worry; the first instinct is to abolish these painful sensations. First principle: any explanation is better than none . . .

The search for causes is thus conditioned by and excited by the feeling of fear. The question “Why?” is not pursued for its own sake but to find a certain kind of answer – an answer that is pacifying, tranquilizing and soothing.

-Nietzsche, Twilight of the Gods

Count YooHoo Amongst The Pumpkinites Pt. II

Hoopla:

I barely made it out alive.

I am in an internet cafe in Toledo Ohio. Good lord, man, do you realize what I’ve been through? Those people were animals – and I almost became one of them. The thought raises bile in my throat now at the mere thought.

Sadly, their hyperbole and drama bamboozled me in a manner I didn’t think possible . . . as you know, good Baron, my mind is usually of a preternaturally advanced level, but somehow their down-homeness, if that can be said to be a term, their very earthiness appealed to my senses at a very base level. Hoopla, I think they prey on people by stroking the first and second circuits. It’s atrocious.

I am in hiding right now, I slept in a White Castle last night, but saw some of the sect combing the neighborhood later in the morning. Tonight I will look for a Jack In The Box. If you don’t hear from me by tomorrow please send someone from the Order to rescue me.

-Count YooHoo, K.S.C., S.H., H.M.
Esoteric Order Of Eris, Van Vliet Cabal

Nice Name For A Planet

LOS ANGELES — A distant, icy rock whose discovery shook up the solar system and led to Pluto’s planetary demise has been given a name: Eris.

The christening of Eris, named after the Greek goddess of chaos and strife, was announced by the International Astronomical Union on Wednesday. Weeks earlier, the professional astronomers’ group stripped Pluto of its planethood under new controversial guidelines.

Since its discovery last year, Eris ignited a debate about what constitutes a planet.

Astronomers were split over how to classify the object because there was no universal definition. Some argued it should be welcomed as the 10th planet since it was larger than Pluto, but others felt Pluto was not a full-fledged planet.

After much bickering, astronomers last month voted to shrink the solar system to eight planets, downgrading Pluto to a “dwarf planet,” a category that also includes Eris and the asteroid Ceres.

Eris’ discoverer, Michael Brown of the California Institute of Technology, said the name was an obvious choice, calling it “too perfect to resist.”

In mythology, Eris caused a quarrel among goddesses that sparked the Trojan War. In real life, Eris forced scientists to define a planet that eventually led to Pluto getting the boot. Soon after Pluto’s dismissal from the planet club, hundreds of scientists circulated a petition protesting the decision.

Eris’ moon also received a formal name: Dysnomia, the daughter of Eris known as the spirit of lawlessness.

Eris, which measures about 70 miles wider than Pluto, is the farthest known object in the solar system at 9 billion miles away from sun. It is also the third brightest object located in the Kuiper belt, a disc of icy debris beyond the orbit of Neptune.