YES VIRGINIA, THERE IS A THIRD SIDE

A CHILD'S QUESTION, A MAN'S ANSWER

IN 1897, Francis Pharcellus Church, an editor for the New York Sun, found himself in a difficult position.  An eight-year-old girl, whose father told her she could rely on anything printed in the Sun, had written in with a burning question.  Church's answer was a classic example of the "Third Side," a crucial element of the thought and life work later promoted by Anton LaVey (1930-1997).

"There are not always 'two sides to every issue,'" LaVey would later write.  "It is invariably a third side that is overlooked in every issue and endeavor, from abortion to gun control.  The third side can be the crackpot stuff of conspiracy theories, or it can be the most logical and simple, yet deliberately neglected conclusion." (1)

The question put to Church was whether or not Santa Claus existed.  Her friends, it seemed, had told her that he did not.  Suffering an existential crisis, she reached out to the newspaper for clarity.  

"Virginia, your little friends are wrong," Church answered.  He continued;  

They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge. 

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! How dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished. 

Not believe In Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

...A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

A WORLD OF GODS AND SANTAS

I think of Francis Church--and Anton LaVey--whenever I am asked if I "believe" in God.  For starters I try not to "believe" anything, especially in the sense of "accepting something is true without proof."  However, if you are asking if I think God exists, of course I do.  I am not an idiot.  Yahweh, Satan, Allah, Krishna, Thor, Osiris, et al are every bit as real as Santa Claus, Hamlet, and Sherlock Holmes.  To deny any of these exist is to fall into a trap laid by "vested interests and...minds of limited scope," (2) people who want to frame the definitions of the conversation into either/or propositions to force you to either side with or against them.  

Yes, gods exist and Santa exists.  They exert measurable and demonstrative influence on the lives and behaviors of billions. You might as well deny the existence of capitalism or liberal democracy.  Thus I am categorically not an atheist; "a person who disbelieves or lacks belief in the existence of God or gods."  That definition has that ugly "believe" word in it again.  I know the gods exist.  So rather than play the game of getting forced into one side or the other of this tedious debate (and therefore by default ceding the right to define its terms to the person asking me, who all too often has an agenda), I embrace the Third Side alternative that Anton LaVey synthesized.  The question is not whether gods exist or not, the question is who created whom.

"It is a popular misconception that the Satanist does not believe in God," LaVey wrote in his (in)famous Satanic Bible. "...Man has always created his gods, rather than his gods creating him."  It is clear from the way that LaVey wrote of gods and devils that he regarded them in much the same way as Francis Church regarded Santa Claus.  These are real ideas, real things, that motivate human behavior, and they have manifested in every human civilization we know of.  This indicates to my mind that they are somehow necessary--or at least useful--to us.  All too often, the use to which they are put is control; bullying other people into thinking and acting how we might wish them to, but LaVey had answer for this as well.  "If man needs such a god and recognizes that god, then he is worshiping an entity that a human being invented...(is) it not more sensible to worship a god that he, himself, has created, in accordance with his own emotional needs?" (3)  The Theism/Atheism debate tries to force us into either submitting to other people's gods or to throw the baby out with the bathwater and reject gods of our own.    

LaVey put forward the convincing theory that humanity is an amphibious species that needs to swim the waters of dreams and ideals as much as crawl out and walk the hard bedrock of reality.  This explains the dramatic and romantic dimensions of his otherwise brutal, pragmatic philosophy.  Like Church's Santa Claus or fairies, how drab and dreary existence would be without Count Dracula, Superman, Daenerys Targaryen, or Zeus.  How impossible to imagine.  Yes, atheists are right to point out we can find awe and wonder and beauty in looking at the stars and the sunsets, but this doesn't mean I would want to live in a world without myths and fairy tales. I daresay I needn't have to, because there is a need for these things deeply buried in the human psyche.  So long as we remain human, the need for gods and Santas will always be there.    

1. and 2. from "The Third Side: An Uncomfortable Alternative," published in Satan Speaks!

3. The Satanic Bible   

THE AZOETIA, PART 1; Thoughts on the Grimoire

The Modern Necronomicon

If you are a serious occultist, you’ve probably heard of the Azoetia already. For the more casual reader, let me give you some background. In May, 1992, British “cunning man” Andrew Chumbley self-published a new occult work in limited edition. By 2002, Azoetia: A Grimoire of the Sabbatic Craft, was ready for re-release in another, slightly more deluxe edition (the Sethos edition, named for the book’s “guardian daemon”). It was already by that time a sensation. In today’s esoteric market, everyone seems to want to imitate the late Anton LaVey, whose 1969 Satanic Bible was a mass market grimoire written for the Everyman.  Aleister Crowley had attempted such a thing decades earlier, but his work proved too dense for the non-specialist. The Satanic Bible, by contrast, was a little paperback anyone could purchase, read, and then completely apprehend all the “secrets” of magic with. When LaVey published this book, it was a landmark. Since then, however, everyone under the sun has tried to do the same thing, flooding the world with mass market self-help mumbo jumbo. Most of these modern New Age books are to the medieval grimoires, or Crowley’s Equinox, what the Big Mac is to filet mignon; cheap, filling, but utterly lacking in substance.

Most of these modern New Age books are to the medieval grimoires, or Crowley’s Equinox, what the Big Mac is to filet mignon; cheap, filling, but utterly lacking in substance.

Chumbley decided to go against the current.  It is the oldest magical formula in the book: do the opposite of what everyone else is doing. Thus, the Azoetia was neither mass market nor for the Everyman. Chumbley’s esoteric group, the Cultus Sabbati, released the volume in a very limited number through a publisher (“Xoanon,” from a Greek word meaning a wooden fetish or icon) specifically created for the purpose. The book was exceedingly rare, and possession of it suddenly put you in an elite club.

By 2004, it seemed as if everyone in the occult community had heard of the book, but few had every actually seen it. Like Lovecraft’s Necronomicon, it seemed quasi-legendary, an urban legend for modern Magicians. And then, the unthinkable happened. On his 37th birthday, Andrew Chumbley died of a sudden, severe asthma attack.

Another thing Magicians share in common with Artists is that death makes their work even more valuable. In Chumbley’s case, this was triply so. Not only had he died young, suddenly, and unexpectedly, the very date of his death had eerie occult significance. There is something weird—in the classic sense of the word—about dying on your birthday, particularly given Chumbley’s profession. Add to this the fact that the number 37 has tremendous qabbalistic significance; 37 is the number of the “Perfected Man,” the three divine Sephiroth of the Tree of Life balanced above the 7 manifest Sephiroth below the Abyss. In addition, 37 is the seed of all triple numbers. 37 x 3 = 111, 37 x 6 = 222, 37 x 9 = 333, and 37 x 18 = 666. These coincidences all coalesced, turning tragedy into a kind of frenzy. On the internet, people started to compare Chumbley to Lovecraft’s Abdul Alhazred, who penned the infamous Necronomicon before himself dying a mysterious death. The Azoetia was lifted from legend to myth. The result was a kind or viral marketing campaign. Copies of the Azoetia couldn’t be obtained for love or money.

Well…not exactly. People were willing to part with their precious Azoetias for absurd amounts of money…usually in the range of $1500 to $2500 US. Worse still, one was expected to shell out the cash sight unseen. If you went on Amazon to read “reviews” of the book, for example, no one seemed willing to talk about what it actually said. All you got was a bunch of scary hoodoo about the book being a “True Grimoire,” “not for the weak-hearted,” “a text only for the most serious student,” etc, etc. As I started to research the book, it became clear to me that most owners weren’t willing to divulge its contents mainly because it’s very mystery ensured its value.  I began to wonder if anyone actually used it.

More fuel was added to the fire by the Cultus Sabbati themselves. In an age where every “secret,” “occult” order has a website and runs around constantly blabbing about it’s teachings and trying to recruit new members, the Cultus was truly closed. Few knew what they stood for, what they did, or how to get in. Possession of the Azoetia seemed to be the only glimpse inside a secret order that really was secret.

I had gotten my hands on Qutub, Chumbley's second work, some time before and found it astounding.  This made me only more determined to read the Azoetia.  Reasoning there is no point calling yourself a magician if you can't even conjure up a book, I sent out a sigil for it, Austin Spare style, and went about my business.  About three months later a friend put me in touch with a young woman who had found religion and wanted to get rid of her "devil books" as quickly as possible.  It turned out she had an Azoetia, and I picked it up for little over it's original price.  That was back in 2007.  I have had to re-read and digest this extraordinary book for five years before feeling like I could start to discuss it.

But not all in one post.  So here is the first of an eventual series of essays on the work.   

A Book By Its Cover

The Sethos edition is indeed a handsome book. Hardbound with the very highest quality binding, the spine is stamped with the title, the publisher’s imprint, and a sigil that resembled the god Set crossed with a Spare-type sigil. This would be the mark of Sethos, no doubt. The cover bears a mandala-like magic circle, an eight-spoked wheel bearing 22 mystical letters, around the circumference of which are words of power in the same characters.

The title Azoetia is suggestive of both the original essence of creation and the calling up of spirits. One might wish to translate it as “the calling of daemons from primal quintessence,” which given the contents of the book is not so radical an interpretation.

The title is itself provocative. “Azoth” was the Universal Solvent or Medicine of alchemy, the “quintessence” from which everything else was made. Lovecraft might have been inspired by this term when he created “Azathoth,” the mindless, nuclear chaos from which the universe emerged. In any case, Azoth plays a key role in the book, as we shall later see. “Goetia” (perhaps the source of the second half of the title) is the fabled medieval Lesser Key of Solomon, the grimoire of grimoires concerned with the evocation of fallen angels. The title Azoetia is suggestive of both the original essence of creation and the calling up of spirits. One might wish to translate it as “the calling of daemons from primal quintessence,” which given the contents of the book is not so radical an interpretation.

Tradition

The first thing readers will wish to know is to what tradition does the Azoetia belong. Is it Wiccan? Satanic? Hermetic? Thelemic? Voodoo? Sufi? Chaotic? The answer, it seems, is “all of the above.”

For Chumbley, the dogmatic differences of occult traditions are veils, masks concealing a single, hidden source. The Azoetia is an attempt to tap directly into that source.

“…it has been my endeavor,” the author writes in his introduction to the first edition, “to define those Principles underlying the many different paths of Magick and to unify them within the single body of a working grimoire…” It would seem, therefore, that the author is working from a Perennialist viewpoint, the assumption that there exists a universal truth or set of truths in all schools of magic and philosophy. He confirms this a few paragraphs later; “…all currents of Magick flow from a single fountain, and I, in drawing this Grimoire from my dreams, have hopefully filled a cup from a pure source…” For Chumbley, the dogmatic differences of occult traditions are veils, masks concealing a single, hidden source. The Azoetia is an attempt to tap directly into that source.

The skeptic might say that Chumbley is not so much as tapping into the primordial source of occult traditions as synthesizing a new one from diverse schools of thought. Either viewpoint is valid with regards to this text. The final point is that virtually any Magician, working from any tradition, could find in the pages of Azoetia some portion of teachings or practices mirroring his own.

For example, despite consciously distancing himself from the modern schools of Wicca, Chumbley’s “Sabbatic Craft” shares a great deal in common with them (at least on the surface). This text is very much concerned with a God and a Goddess (the former embodying Death and the latter coming in triple forms). The working tools mirror those of Gardenarian or Alexandrian Wicca; the wand, a black handled Arthame (Athame), a white handled working knife, a Pentacle, a Cup, a Cord, a Circle, an Altar, etc. The opening ritual closely resembles Wiccan Circle Casting, and there is even a wheel of the year. However, elements from other traditions are clearly woven in here. A magical quill is included, which recalls the Peacock Angel Melek Taus (a key figure in Qutub). The altar is a double cube (more Hermetic than Wiccan). The temple includes a central pole, or “fetish-tree” which is nearly identical in function to those in voodoo honfours.

Chumbley earnestly wants us to understand that the grimoire, and all the tools, are physical representations of something else, something without form. For him, Magick is tool of working backwards from the trappings towards that inner source. 

But all of this, the author asserts, is just set dressing, with little bearing on the truth of the text. A constant theme throughout the Azoetia is the reminder that all the tools, rituals, incantations, and even the text itself are just outward expressions of inner truths. Without getting too far ahead of myself, the last page of the Azoetia reads; HERE ENDETH THE GRIMOIRE AZOETIA…MISTAKE NOT THIS BOOK FOR THE WORDS ON ITS PAGES. Chumbley earnestly wants us to understand that the grimoire, and all the tools, are physical representations of something else, something without form. For him, Magick is tool of working backwards from the trappings towards that inner source. Again, back to the introduction; “…the Quintessence of Magick is not to be found by the combination of externals, but solely by the direct realisation of innate source. It is not to be discovered by system with system, belief with belief, or practice with practice; it is not found by uniting the “elements” in their temporally manifest forms. For beyond the Outer, beyond the dualistic and substantive manifestations of element with element, the Quintessence is already attained…when this Mystery is understood, the secret of the Azoth is revealed in truth…”

Like the Chaos Magicians, or to an extent Anton LaVey, Chumbley is telling us that the dogmatic elements of Magick are all mechanisms to tap into its noumenal source. Writing from this standpoint allows Chumbley to imbue his grimoire with a quality which transcends divisions of tradition. A Hermetic is going to read the Azoetia and say “Chumbley was really one of us.” But the Wiccan, the Satanist, and the Thelemite might all come to the same conclusion. Whether you feel that this is evidence of Chumbley’s “Quintessence,” or just a skilled job at integrating diverse forms and practices, is up to you.

Sethos

The second edition of the Azoetia bears the name of the entity watching over it, and opens with a dedication to him. Chumbley explains “Sethos” as… “the Daimon of the Grimoire Azoetia; a noetic emanation of the Magical Quintessence; a mediator between Abel, Cain, and Seth, that is, between the Sacrificed Man of Clay (the Uninitiate Self), the Transformative Man of Fire (the Initiating and Becoming Self), and the Self-Transformed Man of Light (the Initiatic Self-existent One)…” p. 361

Chumbley is drawing on a bit of Gnosticism here. For the Gnostics, ideological rivals of the early Christian Church, the Hebrew God described in the Old Testament wasn’t the Good Guy at all, but rather the Villain. He and his angels were merely lesser emanations of the True Deity. The Gnostics called the false god Ialdabaoth, and explained that he had fashioned the world of matter as a prison to hold captive human souls (which were, in fact, tiny sparks of the True God). Ineffable, invisible, and intangible, the True Deity was far removed from the material world. He did not act directly, but only sent forth emanations. For some Gnostics, Jesus was just such an emanation, sent by the True God to liberate people from the captivity of false one.

If you reread the Bible with Gnosticism in mind, several things change. For example, in Eden, Ialbadaoth and his angelic cronies suddenly appear to be keeping Adam and Eve naked and stupid, like apes. Then along comes the serpent, who actually helps the couple by persuading them to rebel. He talks them into eating the fruit of knowledge and becoming self-aware. They stop being animals and start being human. 

While this may seem odd to the modern reader, it does explain a great deal of the Bible’s inconsistencies. Any objective reading of the text leads the reader to wonder how the jealous, vindictive, and murderous God of the Old Testament could possibly be the beneficent and compassionate one spoken of by Jesus. In addition, it explains the problem of suffering and evil a lot more efficiently than the more standard “blame-it-on-Lucifer” line. Regardless, this is what various Gnostic groups believed and taught down through the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd centuries, until the Christian Church got organized and started putting them out of business.

Now, if you reread the Bible with Gnosticism in mind, several things change. For example, in Eden, Ialbadaoth and his angelic cronies suddenly appear to be keeping Adam and Eve naked and stupid, like apes. Then along comes the serpent, who actually helps the couple by persuading them to rebel. He talks them into eating the fruit of knowledge and becoming self-aware. They stop being animals and start being human. For this reason, there was an entire Gnostic sect known as the Ophites (snake-worshippers).

But there was another Gnostic sect known as the Cainites.  To understand why, we must consider the next biblical drama; Cain and Abel. Cain, the eldest son of Adam and Eve, is the first farmer and blacksmith. Abel is a herdsman. God (ie Ialbadoath) commands the two to make a sacrifice to Him. Cain sacrifices the finest fruits of the harvest. Abel slaughters an animal. As a result, God favors Abel’s sacrifice and scorns Cain’s. Message? This God wants blood. As a result, Cain murders his brother and as a result undergoes a mysterious transformation.  Though sent into exile, he is somehow “marked” with a sign of God’s protection.  If anyone tries to punish or murder Cain for his crime, they themselves will be punished by God.  This is completely bizarre, given Yahweh’s “eye for an eye” mentality.  Even more odd, in the wake of losing two sons, Eve conceives a new son, Seth.

For Gnostics, Seth’s incarnation was made possible by Cain’s sacrifice.  Abel was the first human being to die, and by killing him Cain had opened a path into the otherworld, a path along which the True God could send part of Itself into Ialbadaoth’s creation. 

Seth is a very curious figure in both Gnosticism and mystical Judaism. Many sects regarded Seth as an emanation of the True God.  The line of Seth was called the “sons of God,” and believed to be holy.  Adam is said to have given them the secrets of the Kabbalah, and many Gnostics belived that Seth—not Jesus—was the savior who would return at the end of time.  

For Gnostics, Seth’s incarnation was made possible by Cain’s sacrifice.  Abel was the first human being to die, and by killing him Cain had opened a path into the otherworld, a path along which the True God could send part of Itself into Ialbadaoth’s creation. Perhaps Yahweh couldn’t punish Cain because he somehow enjoyed the protection of the higher, true God.  

With all this in mind, we are ready to tackle the dedication opening the Sethos edition of the Azoetia;

O Sethos! Rise up and remember!

Recall the Promise once stain’d in red upon the primal dust of the earth!

By baying dog and moon-beam, by lantern, stave, and upright stone,

Come fathom the starlit heights of Heaven in the Old Dew-pool of Cain.

Come ring the blood round with the Serpent, Come turn the skin of time,

Come pace about the corpse of Abel, here break the Fate of Mortal Man!

Here cast forth the Visions from Yesterday, from Tomorrow, unto Today.

Here open the way for the Crooked Path, for the Pathway forever to be!

O Sethos! Rise up and remember,

‘Til thy Namesake, the Man of Light, is born!

The Crooked Path is the one opened by the sacrifice of Abel, and it leads directly to the Azoth. And Cain—the first Magician—is held as the psychopomp, the opener of the way.

Now on one level, Abel is the Uninitiated Self, the normal, everyday mortal held captive by the system, subject to all the laws of nature and time. Cain is the Initiate who rebels against this, sacrificing his old life up in an effort to tear free from the bounds of time and space. And Seth is the Divine Self, the perfected being born from Cain’s sacrifice, the magician who completes his quest. We are seeing the old alchemical formula, solve et coagula, again.

In purely psychological terms, this myth reflects the fact that our lives and identities are hollow constructs, forced upon us by heredity, society, and experience. It urges us to murder these identities and to replace them with entirely self-created ones, to transform ourselves into who we want to be rather than who we’ve been told to be.

But on another level, Abel represents what Chumbley calls Zoa—the life force present in all human beings, analogous to the alchemical mercury. Cain is his darker twin, Azoa, the force of death equally present within us, analogous to salt. And Seth/os would be Azothos, the magical force that unites and transcends both, the divine fire analogous to sulfur. The work of the magician is to liberate himself from both the forces of life (with its pains, cravings, and instability) and death (with its limitation and finality). He must murder Abel and exile Cain, so that Seth (transcendence) might be born.

Aleister Crowley touched on all of this in his Book of Thoth, particularly with regards to the Trumps “Lovers” and “Art.” Another excellent source for further reading would be the writings of Julius Evola (the best being The Hermetic Tradtion).

THE LOOKING GLASS

Let's get our definitions out-of-the-way first;

Objective universe: the part of existence which can be sensed and quantified. It is the mechanical/organic cosmic order characterized by its regularity and predictability, by the presence of laws.

Subjective universe: the "world" of any sentient entity within the universe. There are as many subjective universes as there are sentient beings, each is the particularized manifestation of consciousness within the universe.

THE FIRST THING you learn as a magician is that there are two worlds, the one of the senses, and the one inside our heads. The second thing you learn, is that a great deal of mischief arises from confusing the two planes. Uber magician Aleister Crowley, once warned his students before beginning on any magical curriculum;

1. This book is very easy to misunderstand; readers are asked to use the most minute critical care in the study of it, even as we have done in its preparation.

2. In this book it is spoken of the Sephiroth and the Paths; of Spirits and Conjurations; of Gods, Spheres, Planes, and many other things which may or may not exist. It is immaterial whether these exist or not. By doing certain things certain results will follow; students are most earnestly warned against attributing objective reality or philosophic validity to any of them.

I have often thought a similar warning should preface the Bible.

Because "objective reality" and "philosophic validity" is exactly what too many religious people ascribe to the gods and spirits in their respective religions. Over the years, I have met people ready to attest to the palpable presence of Allah in their lives, or the Buddha, or Krishna, or Jesus Christ. And I believe them; I have no doubt that these entities are absolutely real for them. But this is where I always remember Crowley's warning. Just because they are real for them in their subjective universe does not mean they exist as objective realities, and more harm than good arises from believing that they do.

But this is also the mistake that atheists and positivists make. Simply because your microscope tells you differently, doesn't mean that Communion doesn't really become flesh and blood. It does; but inside the confines of the subjective universe. All the gods that ever were are totally real, even if they did not leave a shred of DNA evidence behind. And yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. They exist on a separate frequency from the material, the same frequency that the imagination vibrates upon.

Which does not in any way make them less real than a virus, or gravity. Make no mistake; ideas too can kill. This is the third thing that every magician must learn to understand; that the boundaries between the objective and subjective universes can be crossed. Alice can pass through the Looking Glass, but so too can the Red Queen.

We all know this but we forget. Objective experiences become memories, thoughts, and impressions all the time everyday of our lives. The subjective universe is a mirror that reflects images of the objective world. But it is also so much more than that, and that is the gift of being human. The reason that magic is classified as an "art" is because it takes something born in the subjective world and moves it into the objective. Like all arts, both fine and industrial, it is all about taking an idea and using it to reshape the objective world. It is about turning the mirror around so that the objective world reflects the subjective. This is why, of course, it is ridiculous to dismiss subjective realities as simply delusions or dreams. Too often they escape the confines of their cages and rampage around the "real" world.

As a magician my purpose is to go deep into the subjective world and summon things out of it. This dovetails nicely with my work as a writer. But that's nothing new; the connection between the Word and magic is deep and ancient. We speak of spells and spellings, grammar and grimoire. And all the old gods of magic--Hermes, Mecury, Odin, Thoth--were patrons of communication too. The spirits conjured by great writers have touched millions; who doesn't know Sherlock Holmes, Dracula, or Ebeneezer Scrooge? They move invisibly around us, occasionally seizing possession of actors, not unlike the loa of voudon. All writers--and artists--are magicians, and vice versa.

And here is where we come to the point.

The secret that magicians possess, the one that positivists and theologians lack, is that the objective reality of the spirits we conjure is wholly irrelevant; what matters is their ability to effect the world. Just as the identity of light as photons or waves changes with perspective, so too does the reality of gods and spirits depending on whether your vantage point is in the objective or subjective world. Theists and atheists will squabble endlessly over the existence of God, but the magician knows they are both correct. Further, he is more interested in how "God" effects things than proving or disproving him, just as with any other subjective being. And in the end this might be the greatest point of contention between magic and religion; the magician is concerned with what the gods can do for us, not what we can do for them. This is why it is impossible for me to bow down and worship a god; I am by extension bowing down to the magician who conjured it, and whether his "spell" is meant to control who I sleep with or to persuade me to fly an airplane into a skyscraper, I would be a poor magician indeed to fall under it. I am, however, entitled to listen to the gods conjured by other people. Jesus of Nazareth does not need to be the Lord and Savior of my own subjective universe for me to give him an ear. As a magician, I am free to listen to and to learn from any god, spirit, or devil and weigh what they have to say equally.

Which brings me to the fourth and final secret that being a magician has taught me; the definition of what a "spirit" is. It is more than just the personification of a phenomenon, it is the imposition of meaning on phenomena. We know this when we talk about the "spirit" as opposed to the "letter" of something, or the "spirit" of how it was intended. The objective universe is completely devoid of meaning; it just "is." But our inner subjective worlds are fraught with meaning, bursting with it. Magic, and art, are struggles to bridge the two worlds and infuse our lives with meaning, with spirit, but to be fully aware that we are the ones doing the defining. We must avoid the Scylla and Charybdis of accepting that life is meaningless or that it comes already defined. It is our job to do magic, to transmute lead into gold, and to give meaning to our own existences. That is the greatest magic there is.

Since I began with Aleister, I would like to finish with him as well.  

"...WHY should you study and practice Magick (sic)?  Because you can't help doing it, and you had better do it well than badly."

THE BAPHOMET INTERVIEW

Recently, I caught up with a spokesperson for the Prince of Darkness at his suite in a Tokyo hotel. “Baphomet,” as he preferred to be addressed, was in town visiting some associates in a neo-Templar organization. He appeared as an androgynous looking individual in his early twenties, attractive, soft-spoken, and well dressed. He appeared either Middle Eastern or Mediterranean, but while he spoke with an American idiom, he had a slight British accent. We spoke for an hour, and I took the opportunity to confront him on the list of allegations made against the notorious Archfiend.

AM: I appreciate your taking the time to see me.

BT: (With a wave of his hand) It's nothing. My pleasure, really.

AM: Let me start by reading to you some of the things the media has been saying about your Boss; he's been called “the Prince of Lies,” “the Enemy of Man,” and “the Author of Evil.” Any comments?

BT: (Laughs) Epithets like these are really nothing more than catchy soundbytes, aren't they? They sound ominous, but fall apart under close inspection. Take, “the Prince of Lies,” for example? What exactly is he accused of lying about?

AM: Well, for starters, according to records of his involvement in the Eden scandal, when he told Eve to eat of the Tree of Knowledge he is quoted as saying “surely you will not die.” In the end, she did.

BT: (Nodds) Now there is a perfect example of what I am taking about. Yahweh—or Adonai, Elohim, whatever—tells Adam and Eve that if they eat from the Tree, they will die. This statement is utterly false. Eating from the Tree didn't kill them, Yahweh did. What he should have said was “don't eat this fruit or I will kill you;” that would have been more accurate.”

AM: But your Boss knew what would happen.

BT: Not necessarily. Remember, if Adam and Eve could have gotten to the Tree of Life they would have become immortal and “like unto” Yahweh and his associates. Yahweh intervened by sending down some of his muscle.

AM: So why did he tempt them to eat the Fruit in the first place?

BT: Why did Thomas Paine write “Common Sense?” Why did Karl Marx write “The Communist Manifesto?” Satan was the first in a long line of free thinkers who spoke out against oppression. Honestly, you have to put the whole thing in context: Yahweh and his associates were the “haves,” with access to the Fruits of Knowledge and Life. Adam and Eve were the “have nots,” lacking both self-awareness and immortality. They were being kept, naked and ignorant, on Earth while the Lord and his sycophants were living it up in Heaven. Satan basically just said to Eve “you are being oppressed, open your eyes!” In the end, Adam and Eve made the choice to do just that. The rest, as they say, is history.

AM: You are saying your Boss had mankind's best interests at heart?

BT: I am saying he is a revolutionary. You had a system at the time where it was either God's way or the highway...actually, not even that, because you couldn't escape from Adonai's autocracy no matter where you went. Satan was the first to stand up against the Establishment. Others—like myself—chose to stand with him. So did Adam and Eve.

AM: So you deny the “Enemy of Man” categorization.

BT: Absolutely. Close examination of documents like the Bible contain absolutely no evidence of Satan doing anything worse that challenging God's authority. Yes, Adam and Eve suffered...but I want to make clear that Yahweh was responsible for that. It was no different than the American Revolution. You had an absolute monarch running the show; Jefferson, Paine, and Franklin spoke out against it, and people joined their movement. They didn't do it to “trick” colonists into getting themselves killed standing up against King George, they were standing up for a principle, putting themselves at risk. Let's not forget; Satan has been on the receiving end of God's “justice” as well. As far as Satan being the Enemy of Man, Biblical tradition holds that the fallen angels were the ones who taught mankind the arts and sciences...so I leave that one for your readers to decide.

AM: Are you are saying God is the “bad guy?”

BT: (Shaking his head) I dislike the “good guy/bad guy” categorizations. They are far too simplistic. The fact is, God was a Tyrant in the classical sense. Absolute power. Absolute authority. And he didn't like people contradicting him. If you read the Bible, really read it, you get a picture of God as the kind of tyrant who makes Nero or Caligula look like Jimmy Carter. Think about it. Adam and Eve disobeyed him so he exiled them and sentenced them to death. Later he got displeased with the behavior of his subjects, so he unleashed a flood to drown them all. People started expressing their sexuality in Sodom and Gommorah so he vaporized both cities and everyone in them—making Hiroshima and Nagasaki look like picnics, I should add. He disagreed with the policy decisions of one Pharaoh, so he sent his assassins to murder all the first born children in an entire country. Then, irritated by the lack of gratitude from the Hebrews, he forced them to wander around in the desert for 40 years. And Moses? His right hand man? He got bent out of shape with him, and despite all his years of loyal service, forbade him to ever set foot in the promised land. (Becomes relfective) As for that poor carpenter from Nazareth—Satan tried to make him listen to reason in the desert, but Yahweh ended up getting him crucified. Did Yawheh have the power to rescue him? Of course. And Yeheswah knew that...I cannot imagine the betratyal he felt when he asked “My God why have you forsaken me?”

AM: What do you have to say about Hell? Doesn't your Boss and his followers torture the people sent there?

BT: (Sighs) As logically inconsistent as Yahweh has been at times, nothing matches the Christian Church. On one hand, they tell you that Satan is a prisoner in Hell and on the other try to portray him as the warden. You simply can't have it both ways. I want to go on the record as saying Hell is a fraud, a fairy tale cooked up during the Middle Ages to keep the Church in business. Historians and Biblical scholars will back me up on that.

AM: So where does your Boss reside these days?

BT: The same place as everyone else; here. Lucifer was cast out of Heaven, so he came here. He's always been here. That's why the Bible occasionally refers to him as the King of the World.

AM: What is he up to these days?

BT: The same thing he has always been “up to,” the emancipation of the individual.

AM: You have protrayed Yahweh's leadership as “my way or the highway.” What sort of leadership does your Boss offer?

BT: (Wags a finger) Not leadership. He doesn't want to tell anyone what to do. His philosophy has always been “do what thou wilt.”

AM: Isn't that Aleister Crowley's philosophy?

BT: Technically it's Ra-Hoor-Khuit's. (Laughs) But as Crowley has said, “Satan...is the Supreme Soul behind Ra-Hoor-Khuit.” It is the Devil's philosophy and always has been. Rabelais was on to the whole “theleme” thing before Crowley was, if you recall, and if we go back to the 13^th century, we find Melek Taus quoted as saying things like “I allow every mortal to follow the dicatates of his own nature” in Yezidi scriptures such as Sheikh Shams al-Din abu Mohammad al-Hasan's Al-Jalwa li Arbab Ahl Al-Khalwah and Sheikh Adi al-Hakari's Ilmi Ahat Haqiqt Al-Ashiah'i. Clearly it has always been Satan's position.

AM: Doesn't that lead to anarchy?

BT: That is always the opposition's response. Not necessarily. What is needed is education. If we teach people to think for themselves, and take responsibility for their own actions, we could all get along just fine. The idea is to do your own will, but not to interfere unnecessarily in the will of others.

AM: What about “might makes right?”

BT: It does, but having the power to do something doesn't always make it in your own best interest to do so, and that is what we need to be teaching. A father gets annoyed with the crying of his infant son; yes he could smother the baby, but it entirely against his own interest to do so. The same applies in society at large: antisocial behavior tends to tick people off. They retaliate. Thus, it is in your own interest to steer clear of those behaviors in the first place. It is generally in humanity's best interest to cooperate, discuss, and work together. But that does not mean you need autocratic rule. The authorities don't want you to hear that, though.

AM: I want to get back to your Aleister Crowley reference. Are you saying that Thelema and Satanism are the same?

BT: (Takes a sip of his lemon tea) No. I am saying they have a common source. Thelema, Satanism, Wicca—the occult—all exist outside of the establishment. The thing that most people who practice magic chose to ignore is that it is diametrically opposed to religion and authority. Magic is about individual empowerment.

AM: Care to elaborate?

BT: (Stops a moment to think) It is all well and good to run around creating our own definitions and interpretations for things. If I like, I can call a “dog” a “cat,” but the simple fact of the matter is that the words we use already have perfectly valid meanings. This is why I am consistently baffled and bemused when Magicians—who of all people should know the value of words—run around mutilating their meanings.

It has been de rigeur for Magicians to tell their readers their definition of Magic every time they write a book about it. It was, as usual, Aleister Crowley who started this, but the difference between Crowley and 99% of the other book-writing Magicians is that he understood etymology. In addition, Crowley did not actually redefine the word “magic;” he created a new one, “Magick,” to describe his system of “causing change in accordance with Will.” Personally, I think anybody who writes about Magick using the “k” had damn well better be talking about Crowley's system, or else they should use the more proper magic instead.

(Stops a moment) Sorry, I got on a tangent there. The point is, too many people feel they can just change the proper meanings of words willy-nilly. Ladies and gentlemen, the definition of Magic, based on etymology, is power. This isn't what I think it means...it's the word's proper definition. Too many people have explained Magic as “causing change in consciousness” or a “system of personal evolution.” It is none of those things. Magic comes from the same Indo-European root word as the English verbs may and make, and the nouns might, machine, and mechanics. These words imply the ability to do or create something. It implies the power of the individual to act on his environment. By contrast, Religion comes from the Latin religio, which means “to be bound” or “tied.” In Religious systems, the individual's hands are tied...he is bound to a god, a priesthood, and a faith. If he wants something, he prays for it. He supplicates his deity or church. He himself has no real power. Compare this with the Magician, who imposes his will and his power on the world. If the Magician wants something, he doesn't ask a god for it...he gets it for himself.

This is the thing that 90% of the Magicians out there are afraid to admit to themselves. They are all walking, at least partially, the Left-Hand Path.

AM: I think most occultists would hotly contest that statement.

BT: Of course they would, because they have been culturally conditioned to think in terms of Good and Evil. Even worse, they've been taught that “selflessness” is admirable and “selfishness” damnable. What is this mystical obsession with destroying the ego? Isn't the individual's sense of self the very thing that separates humans from animals? The ability to view oneself as separate and apart from creation? Most psychologists will tell you that this ability is the very foundation of consciousness.

(Pauses) But getting back to the topic, the terms “Left-Hand” and “Right Hand” Paths come out of medieval Europe. Their meaning was clear; if you follow the Right-Hand Path you follow God and religion, while the Left-Hand Path is the way of the Devil and magic. The one is about surrendering your individuality and the other is about keeping it. If you are comfortable with the idea of an ego, stick to the Right Hand Path and leave magic alone.

AM: Wouldn't you agree that most occult groups mix a little of both?

BT: Of course. Wicca, for example, seems one part worship and one part sorcery (with some Covens leaning to 100% worship!). Voudon and Santeria are much the same. In Crowley's case, his works span from purely magical operations such as his Evocation of Bartzabel to religious ceremonies like the Gnostic Mass. The object of one is for the Magician to cause a spirit to appear, while the other is intended to tie the participant to the Thelemic current. I would voice the opinion that this is a modern phenomenon; in ancient times the distinction was clear. Priests and priestesses worked together in temples, and the Magician worked alone. Think about it; Circe, Merlin, Medaea, Taliesin...these wizards and witches didn't belong to groups. They flew solo.

AM: Gandalf was part of an order.

BT: (Smiles) And Gandalf was a 20^th century creation, dreamed up by a Catholic.

AM: Touchè.

BT: I have nothing against Orders, per se. In fact, I think Magicians can belong to ideological factions. In some cases, it is quite healthy. But once you start thinking that your power comes from a god, a current, or a group, you are no longer doing magic. Instead, you have just started relying on a crutch, and in the end, will have to sacrifice some of your own independence because of it. The real magician is not afraid to rely on his own courage, conviction, and spirit. He doesn't need to call on any power except his own. Say whatever you will of the LaVey type Satanists, but they at least have a clear understanding of the difference between the Right and Left-Hand Paths. Most groups around are trying to have their cake and eat it too.

AM: How would you categorize the occult groups out there today, say, the larger ones like the O.T.O.?

BT: The O.T.O. is clearly a fraternal order, not a group of magicians. And the E.G.C. is definitely on the Right-Hand side of things, despite the fact that Crowley chose to title their mass “Liber XV,” the number of the Devil in the tarot. Incidentally, my chief objection to the E.G.C. is that it seems somewhat contradictory. “Every man and every woman is a star, every number is infinite, there is no difference” except that the E.G.C. has Bishops and Priests. Once you start adding ranks and titles, it seems clear to me that some “stars” become bigger than others, and now there is a difference. I don't think imitating your enemy is the best way to defeat them. One wonders if the E.G.C. ever heard that imitation was a form of flattery, not a statement of opposition. Now, when the Catholic Church starts performing the Mass of the Phoenix, then Thelema has power. (Sips his tea again) Any way, all of that is religion and not magic. As far as Thelema goes, the purest “Magicians” seem to be the A.A.

AM: What do you think about Thelema as a whole? Is it Right or Left Hand?

BT: Look, all human philosophies have contradictions inherent in them. Thelema is no exception. On one hand, Crowley writes a great deal about the Magical Memory and trying to preserve the continuity of the self from incarnation to incarnation. That sounds awfully Left Hand and ego affirming to me. On the other hand, he talks about disolution of the ego as the greatest good, and labels any Magician who does not annhilate his personality after a certain point a “Black Brother.” Definitely Right Hand. He wavers between magic and religion.

AM: But you say the Devil inspired him.

BT: He said that. (Smiles) Yes, I think the Devil did, but Crowley could never fully shake those Buddhist leanings, could he? He still held “nothing” or nibbana as the highest state of being.

AM: And Wicca?

BT: We cannot discuss Wicca as a whole. There are Wiccan and neo-Pagan groups which are utterly religious in nature, and then those who are 99% magical. I would say that any Wiccan who places worship at the core of their belief isn't doing magic. However, if you read a book like Starhawk's “The Twelve Wild Swans” what strikes you is how completely non-religious it is; it is about self-empowerment and political action, not religion. Though I am sure the authors would disagree, it is one of the most “Left Hand” Wiccan books around.

AM: What spiritual discipline would you call the “most” Left-Hand oriented?

BT: (Considers) Actually, the martial arts. By and large they teach dependence on the self. The martial artist develops his own powers. He doesn't call on a “current” or “god” to empower him.

AM: And modern Satanists?

BT: (Shrugs) Like witches, they cover the spectrum. Anton LaVey—especially in his earlier writings—was what I would consider a “Magician's Magician.” His version of magic is identical to the martial arts: it empowers the self, without external dependency.

AM: Yet he denied the existence of your Boss.

BT: So what? He never claimed he was calling on the Devil for power. Time and time again he stressed that the Magician must rely on himself. The beauty of his Satanism is that really, the existence of the Devil is irrelevant. Whether Satan is a real being or a symbol doesn't matter a whit; in either case he inspires the individual to action.

AM: What about Michael Aquino and the Temple of Set?

BT: They take a lot on faith, but they are Left hand Path. No doubt about that. While they acknowledge the Devil's existence, they do not worship him. They see him as a kind of example of what man could be, a teacher. As far as the “I am Set don't call me Satan thing,” look—the Prince of Darkness doesn't care what you call him. He doesn't want followers or worship. He wants you to think and act for yourself. He wants you to understand that in the end, you only have yourself to rely on, and that is not necessarily a bad thing. People are afraid to do that: they want to be part of a “group.” They want to call on a “god” or “current” or “power.” In the end, the most frightening thing about the Devil is that he is trying to tell people it is okay to be on your own, to follow your own convictions, to go against the herd. The Right Hand Path is all about clinging to an objective truth, while the Left Hand is about making a subjective one. You make your own truth, your own reality. You are your own god.

AM: Any comment on the current political situation?

BT: Listen, when you have walked the Earth as long as I have, you realize there is no “current” political situation, just an ever-turning merry-go-round. It all boils down to self-appointed “leaders” using religion and ideology to deprive people of their freedom and their rights. Bin Laden conned young men into killing themselves and others, and he did it in the name of God. Bush fought back and sent thousands of others to their deaths, in the name of God. If people would just stop for a moment and start to question the authority of these people, a lot of harm could be stopped.

(For the first time in the interview, seems exasperated) All of them are so smug in the authority of their scriptures. Bush is against same-sex marriages because of something written two thousand years ago, the Isrealites feel entitled to their land for the same reason, and the Muslims feel violence against infidels is a viable option because of a document written just 600 years after that. When are people going to start to think for themselves? That is, after all, the whole reason Satan got Eve to take that fateful bite in the first place.

AM: Thank you. I appreciate your time.

BT: As I said, my pleasure.

AM: One final question: to those who say your Boss is not real, what do you say?

BT: (With a smile) He's just as real as they think he is.

THE LURKER ON THE THRESHOLD, "And Other Unspeakable Rites"

THE NECRONOMICON CYCLE

In his Techgnosis essay, Calling Cthulhu, author Erik Davis asks why it should be that so many modern Magicians have embraced the Cthulhu Mythos as a magical model. From Anton LaVey's Cthulhu-inspired rites in The Satanic Rituals, to Phil Hine's Pseudonomicon and now, even, a group calling itself the “Cult of Cthulhu,” Lovecraft's hideous brood keep popping up in the workings of real-life sorcerers...almost as if trying to “break through” into our reality. To my mind, the answer to Davis' question is simple. H.P. Lovecraft gave the world a genuinely post-modern mythology without any real magical praxis. On the other hand, Austin Osman Spare, Peter Carroll, Ray Sherwin, and other Chaos Magicians gave us a genuinely post-modern magical praxis without a mythology. It was a match made, if not in Heaven, then in the black gulfs of the unfathomable void.

But what do we mean by “post-modern?” Simply put, “Traditional” thought embraced an anthropomorphic universe, ruled by a Deity and a hierarchy of intelligences, with Man created in the image of that God. In that model, Man could transcend the natural world through obedience and devotion to God. “Modern” thought, by contrast, saw the universe as a machine composed of forces and forms, governed by immutable laws. Man could eventually transcend the natural world by understanding how the cosmos functioned. Both of these models, despite several metaphysical differences, share the idea that man is significant, that he is somehow distinct from and superior to the rest of nature; in the first model by virtue of divine favor, and in the second by his intellect.

The “Post Modern” viewpoint, fueled by both modern sciences and the weight of the 20^th century, rejects both previous positions as absurd. Biology has shown that species come and go, that where dinosaurs once ruled man now holds dominion, indicating some other species will eventually replace us. Physics reveals a cosmos of unimaginable vastness and complexity, ruled not by laws but by probabilities. The old addage, “what goes up must come down” must be readjusted to “what goes up has a tendancy to come down,” and you can never predict with 100% certainty what it will actually do. As Peter Carroll pointed out, if you roll a single die you could get any number from one to six. Roll six million dice and you will tend to get around a million ones. But you could just as easily get six million sixes.

In this light, the evolution of man is the result of blind chance; like a cloud which takes the shape on an animal on a summer afternoon. And in both cases, the form is only temporary. There is no intrinsic meaning, no truth, no logic, no destiny. The universe is essentially chaos, utterly beyond man's capacity to comprehend.

Lovecraft captured the essence of this by creating what many of his critics have called an “anti-mythology.” Unlike traditional mythologies, with basically human deities organized into human social groups (families, tribes, clans, etc), Lovecraft's “gods” are utterly inhuman; blind, titanic forces lacking sentience, organization, or purpose. With the possible exception of Nyarlathotep, they even lack individual identities (and indeed, even Nyarlathotep is so mercurial he defies easy description). Chaos reigns in his anti-mythos, and those who cling to reason in the face of it are broken and driven mad. To gain power from these beings, one must become like them, “free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws thrown aside.” Individual identity and dualistic reasoning must be lost, and thus Lovecraft depicts his dark deities worshipped by orgiastic rites. Indeed, his tales often focus on atavistic regression, on humans gaining power by descending rather than ascending, taking on primitive forms which for Lovecraft are in fact our true selves. “...civilisation,” he wrote, “is but a slight coverlet beneath which the dominant beast sleeps lightly and ever ready to awake...”

All this has much in common with the magic of Austin Spare, grandfather of the Chaos Tradition. For Spare, the “magickal energy of the universe, the force that interpenetrates all phenomena is non-human...(and) the magician, in order to avail himself of this force, (must) renounce his human belief systems, his dualistic mind, to achieve a state of consciousness that, as much as possible, mimicked the primordial.” He called this power Kia, and it was the core of his “Zos Kia Cultus.” Spare advocated atavistic regression into primitive modes of consciousness, de-evolution, if you will. This was possible, as the subconscious regions of the brain were in fact “the epitome of all experience and wisdom, past incarnations as men, animals, birds, vegetable life, etc, etc, etc,” and contained “everything that exists has and ever will exist.” In short, we all carry Innsmouth blood, and can become Deep Ones at any time.

This Dionysian mindlessness, which Peter Carroll calls gnosis, is both the goal of the Chaos Magician and the byproduct of contact with Lovecraft's Old Ones. It is a state where the ego is disintegrated, where all our false conceptions of “reality” and “self” are lost. Both Chaos Magick and Lovecraft's Mythos denounce religious and humanistic paradigms as artificial, comfortable illusions in which we attempt to escape from a universe vast, chaotic, and uncaring. Thus it was inevitable that the two should partner up.

The following rituals, then, are my own pages from the Necronomicon. They are rites of Chaos Magick clothed in the trappings of H.P. Lovecraft’s cosmic creations. Of course, numerous other magicians have taken their own crack at realizing Lovecraft’s fictional grimoire, but none of them ever seemed quite right to me. The (in)famous Simon Necronomicon, though an intriguing system of chakra/kundalini work, has very little to do with Lovecraft. Tyson’s recent Necronomicon: The Wanderings of Alhazred was inspired, but his follow-up, The Grimoire of the Necronomicon, was too steeped in traditional hermetic cosmology and Gnosticism to approach the sense of cosmic awe that Lovecraft imbued the Mythos with. While these works deserve their place on a magician’s self, they weren’t genuinely “Lovecraft” for me. So I set out to write my own.

The rituals herein fall into two kinds, “sorcerous” and “cultic.” The former address the supreme triad of the Mythos—Azathoth, Yog-Sothoth, and Nyarlathotep—and reflect the civilized and decadent sorcery of characters like Old Man Whately and Joseph Curwen. They are written for solo work, and lack any sort of religious quality. They focus on crossing the threshold of reality into the sphere of the Outer Gods, for the purpose of gnosis and channeling the power of Chaos back into the world. These rites are the ancient Ars Magia, the art of becoming a god to do your will in the world.

The second category of rites are theurgic in character. They worship alien beings and call upon them to grant favors. The sorcerer does not “become” the god, but rather a channel for its power.

ARS MAGIA: THE RITES OF THE OUTER GODS

At the highest levels of existence dwell the Outer Gods; Azathoth, Nyarlathotep, and Yog-Sothoth. These incomprehensible entities exist beyond the limits of human perception and understanding, beyond that place the Qabalists call the Abyss. Unlike the Great Old Ones—Cthulhu, Dagon, Yig, Y’gonolac, etc—the Outer Gods are truly cosmic beings, beyond time and space. They are omnipotent and omnipresent, responsible for the whole of creation, and while we address them as separate entities, they are in reality three aspects of the same thing. They are the Chaos at the heart of existence.

Azathoth can be glimpsed as the universe shorn of all notions of duality. If you strip away all human definitions, the blind, titanic, seething mass that is left is Azathoth. He is unconditioned reality. Azathoth is the universe as a swirling cloud of energy, a single raging storm, a “big bang” that never really ended. He is the Sulfur of the alchemical Tria Prima, the root of all matter and energy.

Yog-Sothoth is the entire sweep of time, space, and dimension. He is the illusion of form, the One that becomes the Many. All that he represents—aeons of time, the great black gulfs of space, the multiple realities all clustered together—do not and cannot truly exist, save as temporary shapes seen in the clouds. But because human beings perceive a linear universe of moments, and distances, and things, Yog-Sothoth is the very edge of our perception, the threshold of the universe as it really is. He is the alchemical Salt, the giver of boundaries, durations, and forms.

Between these two dances Nyarlathotep. Of all the Outer Gods, he alone seems self-conscious, and he alone interacts purposefully with humanity. He is the notion of duality, of individuality, of separateness from the whole, and yet at the same time he is its emissary. He is the darkness that defines light, the cold that defines heat, the madness that defines sanity. Quicksilver and mercurial—like the alchemical element linked to him—he flows between Azathoth the One and Yog-Sothoth the Many, mediating between them. He is the consciousness of existence, the universe that awakens and thinks it is an “I.” He alone is the Outer God likely to communicate in any way with the individual, working as a trickster to destroy common perceptions of “self” and as a guide or initiator leading the seeker into unconditioned reality.

Yog-Sothoth

Imagination called up the shocking form of fabulous Yog-Sothoth—only a congeries of iridescent globes, yet stupendous in malign suggestiveness…

- Lovecraft, “The Horror in the Museum”

The Mythos describes Yog-Sothoth as the “All-in-One” and the “One-in-All.” Other titles include “the Lurker at the Threshold,” “the Beyond One,” “the Key and the Gate,” and “the Opener of the Way.” We are told this entity is coterminous with all of time and space, “…not merely a thing of one Space-Time continuum, but allied to the ultimate animating essence of existence’s whole unbounded sweep…” (Lovecraft, “Through the Gates of the Silver Key). If the Old Ones exist outside of Space-Time, Yog-Sothoth is the portal through which they enter our reality, and through which the sorcerer may enter Theirs.

The description of Yog-Sothoth as an endless mass of spheres recalls the 6^th Chapter of Crowley’s Book of Lies;

The Word was uttered: the One exploded into one thousand million worlds.

Each world contained a thousand million spheres.

Each sphere contained a thousand million planes.

Each plane contained a thousand million stars.

Crowley notes the title of the chapter, “Caviar,” was chosen as it is a substance made of many spheres. This image, and the repeated use of the phrase “the One and the All,” is suggestive of Yog-Sothoth, or at least that which this entity represents; namely the creation of the many from the one (or at least the illusion of such creation). Passing through Yog-Sothoth into our Space-Time, the Old Ones seem to become distinct individuals. Passing through Yog-Sothoth into Theirs, the sorcerer ceases to be one, merging with the whole of existence. In this way, Yog-Sothoth had been linked to Crowley’s Chronozon, the Guardian of the Abyss. Passing beyond Him means destroying the individual ego and experiencing the All, the “Night of Pan.”

The Lurker of the Threshold is thus an Opening and Closing rite. At the start of a ritual, it opens the way for the sorcerer to enter into the consciousness of the Old Ones. At the finish, it closes the gate after his return. In it, the sorcerer will identify himself with the All-in-One, becoming himself the “Hierophant,” the bridge and portal between worlds.

The Lurker on the Threshold

I

Let the Operant touch his brow, saying; Alpha kai ho omega

Let him touch the groin, saying; Protos kai ho eschatos

Let him touch the breast saying; Arche kai ho telos (1)

Let him throw out his arms like the sign of the cross, saying; IAO(2)

II

Let him go to the East and make the Spiral Star (3). Then shall he make the Sign of the Enterer and vibrate; Aforgomon! Let him close with the Sign of Silence.

Let him do the same in the North, vibrating; ‘Umr at-Tawil! Let him close with the Sign of Silence.

Let him do the same in the West, vibrating; Choronozon! Let him close with the Sign of Silence.

Let him do the same in the South, vibrating; Yog-Sothoth! Let him close with the Sign of Silence. (4)

III

Let him return to the center. “The All-in-One and the One-in-All. Yog-Sothoth knows the Gate. Yog-Sothoth is the Gate. Yog-Sothoth is the Key and the Guardian of the Gate. Past, present, and future are all one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the threshold was crossed and where it may be crossed again.” (5)

IV

Repeat Step One.

Nyarlathotep

And it was then that Nyarlathotep came out of Egypt. Who he was, none could tell, but he was of the old native blood and looked like a pharaoh.

- Lovecraft, “Nyarlathotep”

Described as a “tall, swarthy, man” resembling an Egyptian pharaoh (a description not unlike Aleister Crowley’s descriptions of Aiwass), Nyarlathotep is the only Outer God who assumes human form or who communicates with mortals in any meaningful way. Of course, this is not his only guise. Other tales would see him as a faceless, howling sphinx and a bat-winged, tentacled monstrousity. Indeed, it is said he has a thousand forms, a thousand faces, none of which are his true appearance (assuming he had one at all). Lovecraft, who first encountered Nyarlathotep in a dream, described him as “…horrible beyond anything you can imagine—but wonderful. He haunts one for hours afterward. I am still shuddering at what he showed.”

He was and is the messenger and emissary of the Outer Gods, said to be their heart and their soul. Lovecraft described him as the Black Man of the Witches’ Sabbat, leading mortals before the throne of Azathoth. He would also appear to be the central figure in the worship of the Mi-Go. It is fairly clear that Nyarlathotep is the link between sentient beings and the Outer Gods, the Face of God. Below the Abyss he is the Initiator, the Angel, and the Guide. To those unable to let go of their misconceptions, however, he brings only madness and ruin.

Having opened the Way, the sorcerer must next invoke the Crawling Chaos as his Guide. As the sorcerer made himself the bridge between the Outer Gods and the realm of men, he now identifies himself with Nyarlathotep as Their Messenger, Prometheus bringing fire to Earth. In the ancient tradition of hermetic magia, the sorcerer invokes Nyarlathotep and becomes His Son, embodying the god on Earth.

The Crawling Chaos

I

Let the sorcerer stand in the Center, facing the altar. Let him say; And it has come to pass that the Lord of the Word down the Onyx Steps shall descend. To Nyarlathotep, Mighty Messenger, must all things be told. And He shall put on the semblance of men, the Waxen Mask and the Robe that Hides, to go out among them to teach Marvels, and that He in the Gulf may be Known. (6)

II

Let the Sorcerer go to the East and make in the air the Eight-Rayed Star of Chaos. Let him thrust his dagger through the center and say; En arche ane ho logos. Then shall he behold in the East Nyarlathotep, the Heart and Soul and Word of Him that is in the Gulf, and do obeisance unto him.

Let the Sorcerer go the South and do the same, saying; Kai ho logos ane pros ho theos. Then shall he behold in the South Nyarlathotep, and do obeisance unto him.

Let the Sorcerer go the West and do the same, saying; Kai theos ane ho logos. Then shall he behold in the West Nyarlathotep, and do obeisance unto him.

Let the Sorcerer go to the North and do the same, saying; Pas dia autos ginomai. Then shall he behold in the North Nyarlathotep, and do obeisance unto him. (7)

III

Let him go to the Center. With Wand and Dagger, let him cross his arms over his breast in the manner of the ancient Pharaohs. Let him say; Kai ho logos sarx ginomai kai skenoo en hemin. Then shall Nyarlathotep also be in the Center with him, and he shall truly be the Anointed Son of a God. (8)

Azathoth

That last amorphous blight of nethermost confusion that blasphemes and bubbles and the centre of all infinity…the boundless Daemon Sultan Azathoth, whose name no lips dare speak aloud…

- Lovecraft, “The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath”

Azathoth is “the monstrous nuclear chaos beyond angled space.” He is the Lord of the Outer Gods, the origin of the universe, and in all probability, its ultimate fate. Described as both a blind and idiot god, he is the monad, the undivided godhead unable to see or to know because there is nothing outside of Him to be seen or known. He exists eternally in the moment of first creation, before becoming aware of Himself (that self-awareness is embodied in Nyarlathotep) and before the first laws of the universe (embodied by Yog-Sothoth) took shape. His screams, and the daemonic piping of his courtiers, are the music of the Big Bang.

Simply put, Azathoth is Chaos; raw, undifferentiated, unconditioned. He is the blank sheet of paper that might become anything, the die that might roll any random result. From the human perspective, a perspective conditioned by “this” and “that,” Azathoth is pure madness. But He is also pure power, the potential for anything to be, anything to happen. He is thus the Supreme Lord of Magick.

To invoke Azathoth is to achieve gnosis, a blank or empty state where the ego is shattered, the mind ceases to function, and consciousness expands to the breaking point. Here where the borders between conscious and subconscious are obliterated, acts of Magick are possible.

The Daemon Sultan

I

Let the sorcerer prepare the sacrament. Then with the Voice of Nyarlathotep shall he speak; OL SONF VORS G GOHO VOVIN VABZIR DE TEHOM QADOM ZIRDO L IAIADA DS PRAF A LIL ZIRDO CIAOFI CAOSAGO MOSPLEH TELOCH PANPIR MALPIRGI CAOSG ZAZAS ZAZAS NASATANATA ZAZAS AZATHOTH ZAZAS! (9)

II

Now shall the sorcerer make the offering and the sacrifice. (10)

III

The Lurker on the Threshold may be called upon again to close this rite, or some other manner may be employed.

Endnotes

1. Greek “Alpha and the Omega, beginning and the end, first and the last.” See. Revelation 22:13. This part of the ritual establishes the sorcerer as the center of the universe, the axis mundi, and begins his identification with Yog-Sothoth as the face of Chaos which generates order and kosmos.

2. IAO is a Greek vocalization of the ancient Hebrew YHVH. The three letters here may be taken to represent the three faces of the Outer Gods; “I” being the conscious “I” of these deities, Nyarlathotep; “A” being Azathoth, the first and the source; “O” being all encircling Yog-Sothoth, lord of the spheres.

3. The Spiral Star, as a congruence of spheres, better suits the nature of Yog-Sothoth than the traditional pentagram. See the picture at the lead of the article.

4. These names are forms of Yog-Sothoth. As Aforgomon he appears in the tales of Clark Ashton Smith, the god of time and space. As ‘Umr at-Tawil he is “the prolonged of life,” a Dreamlands version that may represent Yog-Sothoth in his capacity to return the dead to life. As Choronzon he is the Enochian devil, a being named by Crowley as the Lord of the Abyss, standing between the sorcerer and passage into the highest levels of being.

5. The sorcerer should see himself as enclosed in his own sphere, surrounded by many hundreds of millions of others. These all should collapse and condense into his single sphere as he moves into the final stage.

6. Of course, the “Waxen Mask and the Robe that Hides” refers to the sorcerer’s own flesh. This is a very ancient rite, the rite of invoking and becoming a god. As the face of the Outer Gods aware of being a “self,” Nyarlathotep is “Kia,” the unconditioned “I” which wills and experiences, but lacks external attributes. Once one strips away the “am this” and the “have this” from the “I,” he discovers his own Kia and finds it is indistinguishable from any other. He becomes in sense Nyarlathotep, who has a thousand masks.

7. Greek “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and God was the Word, and from this all was made.” Nyarlathotep is the “messenger” of the Outer Gods, Their Voice and Their Word. He is the Logos, the Word that creates and shapes both consciousness and the experience of reality.

8. Greek “And the Word became flesh and dwelled amongst men.” The Word has been “heard” by the sorcerer, who now becomes that Word. It has been given flesh. The sorcerer is now a Mask of Nyarlathotep, a Son of God.

9. Enochian “I reigneth over you sayeth the Dragon Eagle of Primal Chaos. I am the First, the Highest, that dwell in the First Aether. I am the Horns of Death, pouring down the Fires of Life upon the Earth.” Having become Nyarlathotep, the language of the ritual changes from earthly and human Greek to Enochian, the cosmic tongue invented/discovered by Messers. Dee and Kelley. Nyarlathotep speaks on behalf of Azathoth here.

10. The nature of the offering and sacrifice has been left intentionally vague. The Magus—for he is no longer a sorcerer having become a Son of God—may wish to perform Sigil Magick here, consume some sort of Eucharist, or perform some other act of Magick. The sacrifice may consist of blood or sexual fluids, and should be accompanied by entering gnosis.