As much as I would like to avoid it, I feel I must first
define Emergent Magick (EMK). Especially considering that at this point, there
are maybe about fifty practitioners of EMK on the planet. If you follow my
other blog, Scroll of Thoth, you probably have some idea what it is, but I know
that I have failed to define it with any concision. Part of that is because I
am publishing a book on the subject, which will be released in early 2019. It
really needs an entire book and more to get the concept across. Also because
like any other magical philosophy, it’s slippery, and no matter how skilled I
think I am as a writer, words always fail to encompass it in its entirety. And
you’ve probably figured out by now I’m a wordy son-of-a-bitch, which makes it
doubly hard to do this. I’ll endeavor to make it as short as possible so we can
get on with the real subject at hand.
EMK defines magick as, “The art of altering consciousness.”
In essence, the universe itself is created and directed by consciousness, and
magick is a way to influence that consciousness. Consciousness itself lacks
universally accepted definition. For our purposes it includes any sufficiently
complex system that can perceive. If you accept that sub-atomic systems are
sufficiently complex, and that quantum theory proves that particles have some
form of perception, this includes everything in the universe to a greater or
lesser degree. Art, the activity of creation, influences consciousness. Ritual
is the art of the magician, and it is specifically designed to alter
consciousness.
I am very proud to announce the creation of a new blog – Emergent Animism (EMAN). EMAN is my own personal Emergent Magick paradigm, and this blog will be going deep with my thoughts on spirits, daily practice, and magick in general.
Don’t worry. Scroll of Thoth is not going away. I will be cross-posting on this blog until Emergent Animism develops a following of its own.
Thoth, Ibis-headed god of the Moon, patron of scribes and magicians, secretary of the gods. Limestone relief. Old Kingdom, 5th-6th Dynasty, 3rd millennium BC. Now in the Vatican Museums.
Praise Thoth! He who creates the word, and speaks the word, and is the word. All tremble before Thoth, Herald of Ra.
Ancient Egyptian amulet (gold with lapis lazuli, turquoise, and steatite inlays) depicting the ba (one of the parts of the soul in Egyptian thought, typically imagined as a bird with a human head). Artist unknown; Ptolemaic period (332-30 BCE). Now in the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Photo credit: LACMA.
“Men never lose an atavistic appetite for license – the release of social and temporal constraints and ecstatic abandon. Seductresses were mistresses of misrule, carnival queens who cast off repressive shackles and declared a public holiday. The goddess Inanna decreed, “Let all of Uruk be festive!” Once a year, at the sacred marriage ceremony, she ordained a gala free-for-all of feasting, cross-dressing, game playing, and promiscuous fornicating. We cannot bear too much reality; bound, gagged, and led in chains by custom and civic authority, we demand that eros set us free. Love guides since antiquity have urged women to loosen up, “be festive,” and provide “moments of organic relief.” The French cocottes at the turn of the century were maestras of disinhibitionand unbuttoned frolic. With quid nihi (to hell with it) for their motto, they lit cigarettes with bank notes, talked dirty, threw ‘transvesti’ balls, and danced with pet pigs. Among the many other tunes in their songbook, sirens sang of parties – of frolic, joy, masquerade, and anything goes abandon. Love jumps the turnstiles. In Shere Hite’s study of male sexuality, men said that what they valued most about sex was being allowed to be “totally out of control, to release the pent-up emotions they were taught they should repress at all other times.” Here, they echo their prehistoric male ancestor, homo festivus, who cut loose when he worshipped the sex goddess: cross-dressed, caroused, and let the deity take possession of him.”
– Betsy Prioleau, Seductress: Women Who Ravished the World and Their Lost Art of Love; (Festivity, Non-Repression)
My amazing wife, gave me an anniversary present today. One rose for every year we have been married. That’s twenty-six roses. I have loved every one of those years.
I feel compelled to follow up on some previous posts about my first Nine Inch Nails live experience after being a huge fan for twenty-five years. Yes, it was fucking AMAZING!
I saw them at the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago. Affectionately called the Aragon Brawlroom by the locals. In truth it is a beautiful old theater, that just happens to be standing room only. Which was fine as everyone was chill. No pushing or anything that night.
I openly admit I was tripping balls. Which was perfect. As you see from the picture above, the Aragon has this massive mural on the ceiling of a sea of stars and nebulae with some kind of tentacled-shadow Cthulhu monster. When the lights from the incredible fucking light show hit that ceiling in certain ways it was transcendent. I knew every song. I danced my old fat ass off.
I only made it to the back end of the soundguy area, but still had a great view. Trent said he was doing a minimal light show for this tour. If that was minimal, I have to see him with an even bigger kit. Damn. The most interesting one was the lighting for “Copy of A.” On a screen behind, they project a shadow image of the band that moves about in a shifting pattern. I tried to just watch the show, and only took a couple of pictures. Of course, most were crap, but I did capture this short video clip that’s not too bad.
Without a doubt, the best show I have seen in my life. I feel so blessed for having experienced it.
In fact, my parents were opposed to me studying occultism (not necessarily because of the subject matter, but because of general reluctance towards my obvious life long obsessive fixation) to the point where I had a deal with a high school classmate who worked at a book store.
I would ask her to special order occult books for me, and then I would pay in cash so there wasn’t really a paper trail. I didn’t tell her what they were, so a week after I got my first physical copy of the lesser key she asked me casually before English class if I “was enjoying the plot line so far”.
I said “yeah”.
This story is the epitome of, To know, To Dare, To Will, To keep silent. Obviously a top notch magician.
I’m trying tumblr, I really am. I don’t want tumblr to be like facebook where I feel compelled to just give people a verbal smack down. It’s not productive.
Then a group of people, who I otherwise respect, start talking shit about a subject that I care deeply about. Just some really dumb shit about an author I like and a spirit I am close to.
I’m trying, I’m really trying to see their side. I understand their side. I know what they are trying to say, but it just comes across as, “anyone who believes other than I do is a bad person.” And it’s infuriating.
There are merits to their side. There is so much horror in the world, but I really don’t think their perspective has anything to do with fixing it.
The truth is, it’s nuanced. It’s complicated. And no one’s going to take the time to spell that out.
I will say this. I tried their methods. I tried Kabbalah. I tried to force these spirits into ten nice convenient sefirot. I tried to force them into planetary correspondences. I tried to turn them into high concepts and formula.
Then I met those spirits. And you can’t and they won’t. Why would you even want to? Isn’t the whole point of this to experience the transcendent and not just label it?
If you’re looking for social justice from pagan gods, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m not saying don’t pursue social justice, you’re just not going to get much help from beings that are the personification of pure emotion.
