The “Greater” Magic of Anton LaVey

Inspired by a recent podcast interview I was in (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=pjx0W8Bjejc), I thought it might be interesting to examine Church of Satan founder Anton Szandor LaVey’s thoughts on ritual magic, which he referred to as “Greater” Magic. Here is a brief overview of what I think are the most salient points.

The Materialist Magician. First and foremost, LaVey’s cosmos was strictly material. There is no ontological category of “spirit,” and the mind is electrical activity in the brain. On the other hand, LaVey’s universe is largely unmapped and unknown. Our sciences have only allowed us to glimpse a fraction of its phenomena. It is clear that he was convinced of the efficacy of magic, but also that the mechanics of magic had their basis in as-of-yet unknown natural law.

The Magic of Emotion. For LaVey, the ritual manipulation of symbols and elements are only as useful as the emotional response they cause. The candles, the Bell, the Sword, Baphomet, etc have no intrinsic power, the power is in the emotions they trigger. Magic works by raising, and directing, emotions. The exercising—and exorcising—of emotions was perhaps even more important to LaVey than if the ritual “worked.” If one is wronged, society does not allow us to take matters in our own hands. Yet if the wronged party fashions a voodoo doll of the one who wronged them, and ritually dismembers them in a blinding rage, the negative energy is released. If the victim of the hex also happens to expire, all the better. LaVey did apparently embrace Wilhelm Reich’s concept of biochemical “orgone” to an extent, and saw emotional energy as a physical power that could be directed to effect change, but the psychological benefits of releasing pent-up emotion were important to him as well.  

The Magic of Limitation. Limitation, balance, and conservation were defining features of his view of magic. Human potential is not unlimited. Greater Magic (i.e. ritual magic) was about the expenditure of energy, biomechanical in nature. It was raised and released through intense emotions. It could shift odds in your favor, but not perform miracles. He referred often to the Balance Factor in this regard. A skinny, unemployed young man with poor social skills could not expect to perform a ritual to win the stunning beauty next door. But if he joined a gym, got a good job, and employed a little Lesser Magic (applied psychology, manipulation, charm, seduction) the scales could be balanced enough that magic might tip them in his favor. 

Because magical energy is expended, it should only be used sparingly, and LaVey was also concerned with techniques to replenish it. He often referred to this as “revitalizing.” One of his most intriguing theories was ECI, or Erotic Crystallization Inertia. The theory is that the period of our sexual awakening becomes fixed in the individual’s mind. The music, the clothes, the sights and sounds and sensations, etc. By re-creating those conditions, and surrounding themself with them, the magician is revitalized, recharged. 

The Magic of Opposition. A magician’s power, the efficacy of their magic, is rooted in non-conformity. A magician cannot be part of the herd, and doing what is popular—rather than what is unusual or even better unique—and generate very much magical power. Dynamic change comes from division and opposition. A deck of cards is static and unchanging until you divide it and shuffle. To effect change, the magician wants to be outside the system inasmuch as possible. Using an extremely trendy piece of popular music to cap off a ritual is less effective than a piece of music that no one else is listening to. The energy of the first piece is spread out over millions of listeners, but the rare piece is for the magician alone. Conformity saps the magician of what makes them a magician, their Otherness or Outsiderness. 

Also under this heading is the idea of Inversion. “It will be observed that a pervasive element of paradox runs throughout the rituals contained herein. Up is down, pleasure is pain, darkness is light, slavery is freedom, madness is sanity, etc” LaVey writes in The Satanic Rituals. There is magical power to be found, in the ritual chamber, by Inversion. Again, this is seen as revitalizing. “Wherever…polarity of opposites exists, there is balance, life, and evolution. Where it is lacking, disintegration, extinction and decay ensue. It is high time that people learned that without opposites, vitality wanes.” Ritual inversion, for LaVey, empowers the participants.

The Command to Look. So far we have limited our discussion to LaVey’s ideas on Greater Magic, the harnessing of emotional energy in the ritual chamber. But perhaps LaVey's greatest contribution to the magic arts was Lesser Magic, the use of cold reading, somatyping, applied psychology, and the like to beguile, bewitch, and manipulate. The Command to Look is a Lesser Magic principle that nevertheless also reaches across into Greater Magic, so we need to dip our toes into the waters here.

LaVey was inspired here by a (then) obscure book by photographer William Mortensen, The Command to Look. I say “then” because much like “Ragnar Redbeard,” LaVey’s interest in Mortensen rescued this book from obscurity and put it back in print.

Mortensen’s book is revolutionary, to say the least, with principles of manipulation that are truly “occult,” or “hidden.” The book is about photography, composing images that seize and hold the viewer’s attention. LaVey would adapt these principles to Lesser Magic (to manipulate people you must hold and command their attention), but he embraced them in the ritual chamber as well. So it is worth our time to look at them.

To seize and command the attention, Mortensen said you needed three steps. First, you must make them LOOK! He uses a coercive technique here, trying to inspire a lizard brain fear response by the use of four shapes. The “S” shape, reminiscent of a serpent (but also sexual, in the curves of the body), the Lightning Bolt suggesting sudden danger or swiftness, the Triangle representing sharp teeth, and the Trapezoid, a dominant mass that implies obstacle. These images jump out at the viewer, triggering a threat response and thus attention.

Now the image must INTEREST! It draws your attention with images that trigger one of three emotions. Sex is the first. The viewer must be aroused or titillated. Sentiment is the second. The image must inspire tender emotions, nostalgia, or sentimentality. Wonder is the last, presenting images of awe, mystery, strangeness, or fear.

Finally the viewer must ENJOY! The image must keep the eye, presenting new details or revelations. Or the viewer must recognize the subject matter, and relate to it.

This is a very terse overview, but let’s test it on the main focal point of the Satanic ritual chamber. The symbol of the Baphomet. 

Composed of sharp triangles it immediately catches the eye. The fact that one point is down also suggests a lightning strike.  Hidden in the top of the Baphomet—the two upper points and side arms—is a trapezoid, a dominant mass. When you see the Baphomet it seizes the mind for a second with a sense of “danger.”

But then the Wonder sets in. We know immediately it is the Devil, and the Devil has been intriguing people for millennia. We stare and wonder about those curious characters around the five points. Then the enjoyment sets in. We participate in the image, recalling all the associations with the Devil we have learned over our lifetimes. The Baphomet is the focal point of the ritual chamber because of these factors. It grabs our attention and holds it. 

Also notice the color composition. White on black. In a darkened ritual chamber, those white lines stand out in stark contrast.

The Moon & Serpent Bumper Book of Magic: A Look

Looking down on empty streets, all she can see
Are the dreams all made solid, are the dreams made real
All of the buildings, all of the cars
Were once just a dream, in somebody's head...

...There in the midst of it, so alive and alone
Words support like bone

Peter Gabriel, "Mercy Street"

The term "bumper book" may not be a familiar one to many of my fellow Americans. 

From the mid-1920s up until the end of the 20th century, in the United Kingdom, monthly or weekly booklets were produced for children. These contained serialized comic stories, puzzles, rainy day activities, and the like. Most aimed at being educational in some fashion, and used public domain images to keep costs down. At the end of the year, in time for Christmas, they could be collected and republished in thick hardback books, perfect for presents. It's from these that the term "bumper" (something unusually large) likely gets applied.

British friends--of a certain age--I have spoken with have fond memories of these books, the way I suppose I do of scouting magazines like Ranger Rick or Boy's Life, which were similar in many ways, or Highlights, a staple of visits to every American pediatrician. These magazines were informative, and kept us engaged and entertained in those halcyon days before smartphones and tablets. So it only makes sense to me that Alan and Steve Moore (same surname, no relation) might revive the bumper book for an introduction to magic and the occult.

You see, when you stop to consider it, the bumper book is the perfect way to tackle this rather tricky subject. To learn the art of magic, you need informative articles introducing the subject, brief histories and biographies of great magicians, puzzles to engage the mind and introduce new ways of thinking, and (perhaps most importantly for an Art) plenty of rainy day activities to engage the hand and mind in the production of magical charms and tools. Even better, you need to strip away the conditioned and institutionalized cynicism of adolescence and adulthood that society uses to straitjacket us into commutes, bills, and the almighty alarm clock. You need to take us back to a time when all things were possible, rather than practical. As the man says, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." 

So what we have is a very adult book designed to look like a bit of childhood nostalgia, a time machine of sorts. In sense The Moon and Serpent Bumper Book of Magic is attempting to induce an altered state of consciousness, a vital trick in the magic arts, right on its initial pages...

In a sense every grimoire wants to shake you out of your daily consciousness. Books like Andrew Chumbley's Azoetia attempt it through the weird, with hallucinatory imagery and text. Others attempt it through the occult, the forbidden, or the taboo. While this can work, it can also have an alienating effect. Crowley's 1904 Goetia, Simon's 1977 Necronomicon, or even LaVey's The Satanic Bible employ goth aesthetics that induce a mental "head click," but most people are not going to stick around long enough for the magic to happen. Something else is going on in Moore and Moore's grimoire. Moon and Serpent is inviting you back to Narnia, to Wonderland, to Oz. These landscapes all contains wonders and terrors to be sure, but the thrill of them is as familiar to us as the texture of our old teddy bear. The magic here is not cloaked in Dark and Brooding, but childlike awe and wonder.

A Long Expected Tome

First announced back in 2007 (I could swear I had heard of it even before that, but memory and imagination are both Yesodic and never fully trustworthy), The Moon and Serpent Bumper Book of Magic was a collaboration between legend Alan Moore (Watchmen, V for Vendetta, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, From Hell, The Killing Joke, Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow, Lost Girls, and most critically here, Promethea) and his mentor Steve Moore. Himself a practicing ceremonial magician and occultist, Alan Moore had pulled back the curtain on the world of the magic rather extensively in the pages of Promethea, and the idea of him writing a grimoire, a treatise on the arts magical, was a mouth-watering prospect for a thirty-five-year-old version of me fresh in my O.T.O. days and gearing up to attempt the Abramelin. His thoughts on the subject, at least from what I saw of them in interviews and  Promethea, resonated with me, and his power as a writer was undeniable. I was ready, and I wanted my greedy mitts on it.

And ye gods...was I in for a wait.

Years ticked by, and in 2014 the death of co-author Steve Moore seemed to make Moon and Serpent one of those dreams (if I may paraphrase Peter Gabriel) not made solid or real. Yet apparently it was still on its way, announced for 2023, delayed a bit longer, and finally released in October of 2024. It took me a couple more months to get a copy, but in the end of 2024--which in so many other ways had been a miserable bloody year for me--the Long Wait was over. Moon and Serpent was mine.

The Name

The title of the tome comes from "The Moon and Serpent Grand Egyptian Theatre of Marvels," a cabal of sorcerer-artists including Alan Moore, Bauhaus and Love and Rockets bassist David J, and musician-composer Tim Perkins. Together, they released a series of "workings" between 1996 and 2003. These were occult spoken word performances set to music. Chronologically the first of these was the self-titled The Moon and Serpent Grand Egyptian Theatre of Marvels, though it was released on CD after the follow up, The Birth Caul (A Shamanism of Childhood). These were followed by The Highbury Working: A Beat Séance, Snakes and Ladders, and Angel Passage. 

If you have heard these Workings, you have a good idea of what to expect of the Bumper Book. For Moore, magic is first and foremost an art, a creative act. The goal of aspiring magicians is to reach certain trance states and altered forms of consciousness similar to those which musicians, writers, painters, and other artists work from. The book advocates using art, any art, to help access magic. Of course, Moore is not alone in this. While Aleister Crowley was a stickler for ritual, particularly in his youth, he was also a poet, prolific writer, and a painter. Liber AL vel Legis and the "Holy Books" of Thelema are phenomenal pieces of poetry, all received in a trance state. His "Rites of Eleusis," seven dramatic performances combining poetry, spoken word, music, and dance, were very much in the vein of the Workings the Moon and Serpent would later perform. Austin Osman Spare, Crowley's contemporary, was another magician artist. And while Moore does not seem to have tremendous respect for the man, Anton Szandor LaVey viewed magic as art and performance as well.

This brings us to the titular serpent.

One of the first things Moore suggests an aspiring magician should do is find a god they are drawn to. Not necessarily to worship, but to act as a patron of sorts as the individual steps into the world of magic. For Moore, that patron is the 2nd century snake god Glycon, but what is telling is his reasoning.

Glycon--at least according to the accounts of contemporary Roman satirist Lucian--was created by magician, con man, and would be prophet Alexander of Abonoteichos. If Lucian is to be believed, Glycon (a serpent with a mane of gorgeous golden human hair) was essentially a sock puppet that Alexander used to get rich and get laid. Now, there are potent occult reasons to select a serpent god as one's patron (see my series of essays posted back in December of 2016), but Moore has been up front with the fact that part of selecting Glycon was the absurdity of it, and also that the deity was an artistic creation. Glycon embodies what the magician does, namely conjure ideas into flesh. Whether or not this was the case, Moore likes the idea that Glycon was a sock puppet. Again, this very much recalls Anton LaVey, who never believed in an actual Satan, yet established a religion in his name arguing that all religion was theater. 

Glycon, from the inside front cover.

       

As an Artefact

Weighing in at 352 pages, The Moon and Serpent Bumper Book of Magic is a hefty tome, with a cover 9.25 x 12.40 inches (23.5 x 31.5 cm). The pages are thick, heavy, and glossy, with a sturdy "lays-flat" binding and a purple book ribbon.

Moore is best known as a comic book author, inarguably one of the greatest, so we cannot be surprised that Moon and Serpent is gloriously and gorgeously illustrated by Steve Parkhouse, Ben Wickey, Rick Veitch, Kevin O'Neill, and John Coulthart. The cover is lettered in gilt.

In short, the book is a work of art, and something not only magicians but fans of comic art and Alan Moore will want on their shelves.

The Structure of the Book, or "What is so Bumpery about it?"

On my first leaf-through, Moon and Serpent reminded me of Starhawk and Hilary Valentine's classic The Twelve Wild Swans. That book talked about using fairy tales and myths to learn and practice magic, and was structured in such a way that a chapter would include a story, then magical instruction, then exercises. You could go through the book just reading the story, or the instructions, or the exercises, or read it cover-to-cover. Much of that applies here.

As mentioned earlier, bumper books tended to include stories, serialized comics, activities, and the like. These were then collected into single volumes. Moore and Moore have done that here. Each chapter contains an essay on an occult topic, an activities section related to that topic ("Things to Do on a Rainy Day"), a serialized history of magic in comic form ("Old Moores' Lives of the Great Enchanters"), and a prose fiction account of a young woman embarking on the path of magic ("The Soul"). This prose story reinforces and illustrates the occult topic and rainy day activities of that chapter. As a teacher, this is all familiar. Instruct. Practice. Provide an example. Produce. There is also at the beginning of the book a wordless comic showing the awakening of consciousness in primitive man ("In the Morning of the Mind") and starting slightly later in the book a second serialized comic, this time following the career of Alexander of Abonoteichos and the creation of Glycon. 

In addition to this basic skeleton (words support like bone), other material is scattered throughout the book. In fact, the very first thing the book presents us with is "The Moon and Serpent Magical Alphabet." This 24-letter alphabet is a series of magical sigils, each representing a letter of the English alphabet, a number, a deity, a sign of the zodiac, and for the first ten, a Sephira from the Tree of Life. That it comes at the very start of the book should be no surprise. Human consciousness, at least as it exists today, cannot exist without language. Crowley famously called magic a "disease of language." "Spells" are simply "spelling," and "grimoire" is related to "grammar." Alphabets form the very foundation--the bones--of thought and if magic is the exploration and manipulation of thought, we must start with the basics. In his choices and associations, Moore reveals a great deal about his magical thought. He is eclectic:  the deities listed are Greek, Roman, Norse, Celtic, Hebrew, Thelemic (Nuit), and fictional (Glycon and Cthulhu). They lay out his approach to Kabbalah and the Tree of Life (for example, 11 he gives to Daath, the "false Sephira" of the Abyss and associates with Cthulhu). And they indicate what ideas he finds particularly useful. Later, near the very end of the book, he provides several other magical alphabets (Theban, Celestial, Enochian, etc) and space for you to create your own. Finally, there are several tables of correspondences to the Hebrew Tree of Life, not unlike Crowley's 777, and to my delight, a paper model for you to cut out and assemble your own Moon and Serpent temple.

The book closes out with a 50+ page recap and explanation of each of the book's moving parts. Moore discusses how choices were made, his thinking, and provides context for each. If we think of the Moon and Serpent Bumper Book of Magic as an introductory course in the art of magic, then this section is where the instructor pulls back the curtain on why the lessons are presented in the manner they are.

Adventures in Thinking

The book tackles a number of subjects, but before we can discuss any of them we need to answer one important question. When Moore and Moore are talking about magic, what is it exactly that magic means to them?

I opened this post with Peter Gabriel's "Mercy Street" because, while "The Rhythm of the Heat" deals directly with the magical experience, those lines from "Mercy Street" capture beautifully what magic is...at least to me and clearly Alan and Steve Moore. 

While we as a civilization race towards the edge of artificial intelligence, the truth of the matter is that we still do not fully understand what "consciousness" or "sentience" is. Without getting too far into the weeds, the problem science has with consciousness is the so called "hard problem." The "easy problems," how sensory data is transmitted to the brain, how memories are formed, how attention is focused, are all mechanical and thus easy to study. But the hard problem is the feeling of consciousness...that each of us feels we exist. We are getting to a point where AI convincingly apes consciousness, and might even be able to trick us into believing it is...but does the AI itself feel conscious? And how would we know?

For Moore and Moore--and myself, and arguably many other occultists out there like Lon Milo DuQuette--magic is the art of consciousness. It is the exploration of the phenomenon, the development of it, the manipulation of it, and the application of it.

The mind exists, and our thoughts exist, ideas exist, but not in the same way that chemical compounds, DNA, or forms of energy do. The first step in magic is to accept the notion that ideas are every bit as real as material objects, but that they exist and operate on a very different plane and by very different laws. I cannot defy the laws of gravity...yet in dreams I often fly. In fact right now I can close my eyes and imagine myself doing so. More interestingly, while flight is a simple matter of aerodynamics, the idea of flight is part of an interconnected chain of concepts...freedom, motion, joy, birds, the sky, etc etc. Flight in the physical world is a phenomenon. Flight in the mental world has meaning.

Now, if we can agree that ideas exist, a host of additional questions arise. Where, for example, do they exist? Moore asks an interesting question early on, essentially: does consciousness exist only inside our individual skulls, or is it a world in which our individual skulls are just houses, waiting for us to go out the door and explore? We cannot really answer that until we try. If ideas are real, to whom do they belong? Is my Santa Claus your Santa Claus? Or is Santa Claus--or an innumerable host of Saint Nicks--an inhabitant or inhabitants of this other world? By what laws does this other world of thought operate? Time and physical distances seem meaningless there. Indeed distance seems to be a function of meaning rather than space. For example, "work," "job" "career" and "profession" are all "close" to each other, inhabiting the same little cul de sac. "Hammer" and "philosophy" by contrast seem miles apart. Moore points out that even size operates by different principles there. We talk about "big ideas" and "little problems," indicating that size on the mental plane seems to translate into the effect it has on our lives.

So what we discover then is a mental universe, an "Other Side," people by ideas (spirits, gods, etc) that each of us partially inhabits. But it is amorphous, a perilous and ever-shifting terrain. That makes exploring there tricky.

In this context, occultism and magic become comprehensible. The various "systems" of magic--such as Kabbalah or Enochian--become conceptual frameworks, "maps" by which the territory of the mental Other World can be catalogued and explored. The Tree of Life can be viewed as a 32-drawer filing cabinet into which any single idea can be neatly assigned. In drawer number 4, the Sephira (sphere) known as Chesed, we find gods like Zeus, Odin, Indra, and Orlanth. We find the notion of fatherhood, of the sky, of leadership, etc. When we come across similar ideas, such as Yahweh in his ancient form as a thunder god and war god, we know right where to place him. We can also put his counterpart El--the paternal, patriarch, father god--there as well and this might give us an indication how the two then fused over time into our more modern Jehovah.

The symbol sets (like alphabets) of magic are thus essential tools. They form the basis by which we can begin exploring and manipulating ideas. But why should we wish to?

The answer is "art." 

In modern English we tend to think of "fine arts" when we hear the word, of beauty and entertainment. But when it entered English in the 13th century it meant "a skill, craft, or trade," and that is pretty much what it meant in Latin. It's Sanskrit cousin, rtih, means "the manner something is done, how it is done." The Proto-Indo-European seems to mean "shaping things" and the English word "arm," the limb we use to shape things, is cognate.

Art is the practical application of magic. Yes, magic involves crossing over to the Other Side and exploring the vast conceptual territories there, but it also involves bringing things back from the Other Side and manifesting them. All of the buildings, all of the cars...Were once just a dream, in somebody's head... The fact of the matter is that apart from our daily run-ins with mechanical, chemical, or organic laws, very little we experience in daily life is "real," by which I mean to say it is "artificial," created by art. The words we use, the buildings we live in, the cars we drive...our laws, economics, borders, religions...are all products summoned from the imaginary world. We live in a dream made real.

So is one side of magic is the exploration and expansion of consciousness, then the other is the application of it to reshape our worlds. This is a uniquely human faculty, and one that it almost seems a crime (as our birthright) not to explore.

Altered States

In their first "Things to Do on a Rainy Day" section the two Moores touch on magic's reliance on altered states of consciousness. In a second "Things to Do on a Rainy Day" they dig a little deeper.

Because it is useful to think of consciousness as another realm or territory, one that can be navigated and explored, the magician needs ways to step "out" of everyday thinking and cross over to the Other Side. Ideally we want to cultivate mental states that approach lucid dreaming, where we have absolute freedom and authority to reshape mental environments, interact profitably with the idea-entities we encounter there, etc. We want to immerse ourselves in the mental landscape as deeply as possible, but retain control.

There are innumerable ways to do this, from induced physical exhaustion to meditation to the ingestion of entheogens (a term that interestingly enough means "full of god"). The Moon and Serpent covers many of them here. In a latter section the book tackles the more transgressive techniques people have used over the centuries to achieve the same. Ultimately the point is, when you engage in magic, you will want to do so in an altered state of consciousness.  

Tree-Climbing

As a practitioner, Moore sits firmly in the Western ceremonial tradition of magic. In preparing this review, I read and watched a few others, and several times heard him referred to as a Thelemite, i.e. an adherent of the belief system promulgated by Aleister Crowley. I see absolutely no evidence of this. Rather, what I do see is that Moore finds a great deal of what Crowley taught to be useful. Chief among these is Kabbalah. After the first chapter of the book introduces the basic outline of what magic is and what to do with it, Moore moves immediately to the Tree of Life.

I talked extensively about Kabbalah back in October of 2016, particularly in this post here (though the others in the same series touch on it as well). Kabbalah, as mentioned above, is a form of esoteric Judaism that arose in 2nd and 3rd century Alexandria alongside Hermeticism and certain Gnostic traditions. It fuses Pythagorean mysticism with esoteric readings of the Torah. Over the centuries, however, it has been adopted by non-Jews, and a variant form of Kabbalah has come to form the core of the Western ceremonial tradition. It is the skeleton that supports the flesh and blood of that tradition. 

At the core of the structure are the ten Sephiroth, each corresponding to one of the numbers of the Pythagorean decade. These "spheres" are linked by 22 paths, each associated with one of the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet and since the 19th century, the 22 Trumps of the Tarot's "Major Arcana." As I said above, this creates a 32 draw-filing system by which ideas may be organized and the Other Side "mapped." 

I have read a lot of books on the Kabbalah, including primary texts, and I can say without reservation that this chapter of the Moon and Serpent is a tour de force. It is useful to remind ourselves here that aside from being a magician, Moore is a superb writer, and thus his articulation of this tricky subject matter is a masterclass in clarity and concision. He starts the section by discussing the basic structure of the Tree from the top down, and later how the magician may use the Tree as map to explore consciousness from the ground up ("tree-climbing"). To be clear, Moore's takes are not universal, but they are very provocative.

From the top down, we find Nothingness that gradually evolves into somethingness. Ain, "nothing," becomes Ain Soph ("limitless nothing") and Ain Soph Aur ("limitless radiant nothing"). A sort of critical mass is achieved and the first Sephira, Kether, is born. This is Unity, Oneness. Yet almost as soon as it appears, two other Sephiroth follow, Chokmah and Binah. Together these three are--among other things--the triune godhead. Kether is god above all description. Chokmah is god the father. Binah is god the mother. Geometrically, Kether is the point, Chokmah is the line (two points) and Binah is the triangle (three points and the introduction of the 2nd dimension). 

But now something odd has to happen. The highest three Sephiroth are called the Supernals, and they exist beyond a conceptual Abyss. The remaining seven Sephiroth belong to the experiential world, we can know them. But to cross the Abyss and experience the Supernals, we need to obliterate the distinction between subject and object. The Abyss then, is ego death.

Different magicians have wrestled with Abyss in different ways. Som traditions put an 11th, "false Sephira" there, Daath or "Knowledge." Knowledge here should be understood as direct experience...the old Biblical "and so and so knew his wife and begot such and such." Knowledge requires two things to exist, subject and object, knower and known. The Abyss is where Knowledge goes to die. Usually it is not given a number (Crowley argued for 11), but Moore assigns it Pi (3.14159) and associates the fictional deity Cthulhu with it. 

There is a certain logic to this. Pi is not a number, it's a constant, in the same way Daath is not a Sephiroth. Cthulhu is a fictional character, Daath is a fiction. And coming down from Daath we come to a fourth point, Chesed. But in Daath the rules have changed. Chesed cannot exist on the same "plane" as the Supernals, because this fourth point opens the 3rd dimension. Indeed, Chesed and the remaining Sephiroth all exist in 3rd dimensional space. Traditionally associated with sky gods, Moore equates Chesed with Space.

The fifth Sephira is Geburah, associated with stern judgement and martial deities. Moore like's to associate it with Kali, and with Time. Crowley might have thought along similar lines, associating Geburah with the tesseract, or fourth dimensional hypercube.

Now, however, the table has been set. We have the highest conceptual triad (thesis-antithesis-synthesis, positive, negative, neutral), Space and Time. So now we bring out the star of our show, literally. Traditionally associated with the Sun, the sixth Sephira Tiphareth in Moore's view embodies consciousness itself and the Will. From here on in, all remaining Sephiroth will deal with aspects of Tiphareth.

Netzach (the seventh) and Hod (the eighth) represent emotion and thought respectively. Hod is the seat of language, reason, and communication, while Netzach (existing before Hod) is the raw emotion of a crying infant or an animal, emotion unshaped by words or thinking. Only with Hod does the concept of "identity" and "individuality" become possible. It may have existed in Tiphareth, but it could not be defined without language.

The ninth and tenth Sephiroth are, in The Moon and Serpent, two sides of the same coin. Traditionally these are Yesod and Malkuth, the "Foundation" and "The Kingdom" respectively. They are associated with the Moon and with Earth. The argument being made is that Yesod is the foundation of Malkuth. Now, Yesod is the imagination, the realm of dreams. Malkuth is generally viewed as the material world, or rather, the world of waking consciousness. Moore argues that none of us have direct experience of the material world. Instead we receive sensory data and construct a holographic experience of it in our heads. In short. the material world is manufactured in the imagination. And as discussed above, much of what we perceive as "real" originated in the human imagination. 

But to circle back to art, this interpretation of the Tree of Life now gives us a working theory of magic and art. The base three Sephiroth on the middle pillar of the Tree are Tiphareth, Yesod, and Malkuth, the Will, the Imagination, and the Waking World. Magic--art--is the application of the Will upon Imagination to direct it to create in the Waking World.

As mentioned, the 22 paths connecting the Sephiroth correspond to Tarot Trumps. While a full discussion is beyond the scope of this post, we can see how they reinforce this interconnected web of concepts by continuing this example:

The Path between Will and Imagination is the Trump Crowley called "Art." Art is the exercise of Will upon Imagination. The Path between Imagination and the Waking World is "The Universe," indicating that the Universe is (descending) shaped by the Imagination and (ascending) processed through the Imagination.      

Remaining Matters

In good time The Moon and Serpent moves on to discuss the Tarot, using the Kabbalah as a basic for understanding. It is another stunning chapter, making a subject often over-complicated clear. 

After, we circle back to interacting with and traveling through the Other Side, using trance techniques previously discussed. The ten Sephiroth are again revisited, emphasizing their importance in the Moon and Serpent stream of magic. Other models or "maps" of the mental realm are then introduced. The Shamanic otherworld, the Indian Tattvas, the Astral Plane, the Visionary Realm, Fairyland, the Alchemical Landscape, the Enochian Aethyrs, and the Witches' Sabbat are all discussed as alternative conceptions of the Other Side. 

The next "Things to Do on a Rainy Day" deals with "Imaginary Friends," and the book is bringing us round at last to the concept of spirits. 

Moore carefully sets up the question: are these varied entities independent life forms or facets of ourselves? This is something that every practitioner of magic will wrestle with. I have gone back and forth on the matter a dozen times. Particularly in dealings with my Holy Guardian Angel (a topic Moore covers admirably) it is clear to me that if he is not an entity of greater knowledge and ability than myself, then it is a part of myself capable of far more than I usually seem able. But ultimately, the Moon and Serpent argues, it does not matter. Spirits should be engaged with as real and independent entities, otherwise there is nothing to be gained from the interaction. The book goes into detailed and thoughtful methods for contacting these beings and having dealings with them, and discusses separate classes of them: animal spirits, spirits of places, spirits of the dead, gods, the Loa, demons, angels, planetary spirits, Enochian angels, and fictional characters. 

This leads into our next "Things to Do on a Rainy Day: Malpractical Magic," the so-called Dark Arts. As it did earlier in dealing with transgressive magic and the use of drugs, The Moon and Serpent clearly has a position on this subject but never descends into being overly moralizing about it (looking at you Arthur Edward Waite, looking at you). The book's entire bumper book approach firmly sets it against the gloom and doom goth vibe of Black Magic, but it is also aware that such arts exist and may have their uses. Nor could Moon and Serpent be the introduction to the world of magic that it is had it excluded such topics.

The book closes with a lovely connect the dots puzzle (Baphomet) and a Sephirioth maze.

What the Hell Can I Say?

I have never waited longer for a book. It was worth the wait.

There are very few books one can recommend as heartily. Crowley called one of his final works Magick Without Tears, but The Moon and Serpent Bumper Book of Magic lives up to that title better than the original did. I took up the practice of magic when I was sixteen, and for the intervening ten years (*winks*) have tried to answer a single question more times than I can count: "what is a good book to start with?" I now unequivocally have an answer.

What is magic? How do I do it? Why would I bother? Moore and Moore answer these questions with astounding alacrity and deftness. At no point do they shy away from the thornier subjects, but the subject is kept light, bright, and positive. There is something exhilarating about simply thumbing through the book. It is, in a word, "magical."    

NEPHILIM, PART THREE

A MAJOR OBSTACLE for many potential Nephilim players and gamemasters was that they simply weren’t sure what to do with it.  Once your Nephilim character was made, what did it actually do?  What are adventuress like?  When my players asked me, I simply quoted Hermes Trismegistus to them; 

“Leap clear of all that is corporeal, and make yourself grown to a like expanse with that greatness which is beyond all measure; rise above all time and become eternal; then you will apprehend God. Think that for you too nothing is impossible; deem that you too are immortal, and that you are able to grasp all things in your thought, to know every craft and science; find your home in the haunts of every living creature; make yourself higher than all heights and lower than all depths; bring together in yourself all opposites of quality, heat and cold, dryness and fluidity; think that you are everywhere at once, on land, at sea, in heaven; think that you are not yet begotten, that you are in the womb, that you are young, that you are old, that you have died, that you are in the world beyond the grave; grasp in your thought all of this at once, all times and places, all substances and qualities and magnitudes together; then you can apprehend God.

― Hermes Trismegistus, Hermetica: The Greek Corpus Hermeticum and the Latin Asclepius

Well that clears everything up, doesn’t it.

But really, it does.  Hermes is describing to us the Golden Path, the Road to Agartha.  He is laying out what every Nephilim must aspire to do.  Because “veiled,” “obscure” and “impenetrable” are all good synonyms for “occult” however we can expect it takes a fair bit of deciphering to make sense of it!  Fortunately the original authors already handed us the keys in simple numbers; to reach Agartha you need 90% in a Third Circle Occult Technique, 90 points in your Dominant Ka, 90% in a Hermetic Lore, and 90 points in your Metamorphosis.  With those numbers we can start to make sense of the passage.

“Think that for you too nothing is impossible; deem...that you are able to grasp all things in your thought, to know every craft and science...”

Mastery in a handful of key skills dates back to RuneQuest, and the requirements for becoming a Rune Lord.  With a wink and a nod, Nephilim is saluting its parent game here.  But Hermes too urges the initiate to seek mastery.  Specifically in game terms four masteries, mastering at least one Hermetic Lore and three circles of an Occult Technique.

To increase their knowledge of the Occult, Nephilim need resources.  They need libraries and laboratories.  They need to seek our rare tomes—the older the better—from private collections and museums.  They need to hunt for artifacts.  This probably requires a fair bit of globe trotting, and adventures that lie somewhere between The Ninth Gate and Raiders of the Lost Ark.  Nephilim as “treasure hunters” is probably the most accessible mode of the game for most players.  And don’t forget mundane resources!  It takes money to zoom around the globe, and safe, secure labs and libraries are not cheap.  Entire adventures could be built around Nephilim raising capital to finance their Occult pursuits, putting off nosy reporters, the curious, and dangerous rivals.

“Leap clear of all that is corporeal, and make yourself grown to a like expanse with that greatness which is beyond all measure; rise above all time and become eternal...”

To reach Agartha, a Nephilim must also raise its Dominant Ka to 90.  This is developing its spiritual nature to its very highest potential.  A Ka of 90 is practically a demigod.  Raising skills is a matter of study and having the right materials.  Raising Ka is what we call “initiation.” It only happens through the successful exercise of magical powers.  GMs should always remember to “mix the planes” in a good Nephilim campaign.  In other words, “as above so below,” and even mundane adventures should provide opportunities for magic use, making them also initiations.  The idea of the Symbol and the Veil is critical in the Occult.  A Nephilim doing something as pedestrian as conjuring a breeze to air out a noxious smelling room is, on another level, understanding the Nature of Air as an agent of Change.  In this game, everything has meaning, everything is a symbol of something else.

(F)nd your home in the haunts of every living creature; bring together in yourself all opposites of quality, heat and cold, dryness and fluidity; think that you are not yet begotten, that you are in the womb, that you are young, that you are old, that you have died, that you are in the world beyond the grave...

A requirement for Agartha is complete Metamorphosis; 90 points must be achieved across five characteristics, marking total union of the Nephilim spirit and the mortal host. Just as a Nephilim needed 90 points of Dominant Ka for Agartha (signifying perfection of spirit), it needed 90 in Metamorphosis to signify perfection of flesh.  “As above, so below. “    Metamorphosis is described as a physical transformation of the host, not the spirit.   

GMs must take care to emphasize the importance of the Simulacrum in their games.  Nephilim pursue the Golden Path because they cannot ascend without the human element; the Simulacrum is a critical element, the base matter, the lead being made into gold.  Outside of a Simulacrum, a Nephilim is an unconscious creature driven by instinct, as we see in both Khaiba and Narcosis.  Identity, Will, Awareness, these are all Solar traits.  Only Incarnated can a Nephilim think and act.  Further it seems clear from Hermes that Solar cyclicity, the way the Sun rises and falls, dies and is reborn, is also part of the Golden Path to Agartha.  For these reasons the Simulacrum is critical to Agartha, and something a wise Nephilim takes good care of.

The Trumps Lovers, Art, and Sun from the Thoth deck, or in Nephilim terms, Incarnation, Metamorphosis, and Agartha

This makes Nephilim something of a super-hero game.  Like Bruce Wayne, Peter Parker, or Clark Kent, the Nephilim leads a double life.  The Simulacrum is necessary to it, and a clever gamemaster will spin plots about this.  Does an ex-wife reach out to the Nephilim because their son needs an organ donation or transfusion the Nephilim is a match for?  Does the Simulacrum have a vengeful rival at the office making like difficult for the Nephilim?  Does the Nephilim still maintain its job and social engagements?  Conflicts between esoteric and exoteric matters are at the heart of the game.

...the Pure will be thought insane and the Impure will be honored as Wise.  The Madman will be believed brave and the Wicked esteemed as Good...

― Hermes Trismegistus, Hermetica: The Greek Corpus Hermeticum and the Latin Asclepius

Come now...you didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?

While the Nephilim struggle for the Light, they are surrounded by enemies.  The Templars, Thule Brudershaft, and the Carbonari pursue global schemes of world domination.  The Black Star hunt you for your magic.  In many ways this is a game of Occult espionage, where every government, every corporation, conceals a dread conspiracy.  Assassination, extortion, spying is everywhere.

Or perhaps it is a game of horror.

There is a secret society of things that make vampires look tame...and they have not forgotten the Nephilims’ betrayal.  The Selenim—as cannibalistic ogres, murderous werewolves, soul destroying succubi and the mummified blood-drinking dead—plot revenge in the shadows.  Then there are the Old Ones and their cults, the ancient Saurians, cyclopean Titans double-crossed by the KaIm.  In the deep places of the earth, beneath mountains and seas, they lie dreaming but not dead, waiting for the stars to be right for their return.  Beyond these, the world is full of elemental beings, some monstrous, for the Nephilim to face.

    

ENOCHIAN MAGIC: THE CRY OF BAG, THE 28TH AETHYR

AS BEFORE I fell upwards through space, stars and worlds shooting past me.  Above me I saw a great orb of rose pink, surrounded by a burning corona of pale green fire.  I was pulled into this sphere, descending into delicate clouds of dawn pink.  

As the clouds parted I landed gently at the shore of a small, still pond, in the middle of a green wood.  Lily pads and pink lotus blossoms floated on the waters.  Crickets chirped, and dragonflies Flitted about.  It was twilight; in the west, through the trees, the sky was brilliant gold; overhead, rose pink clouds drifted.  Behind them I caught glimpses of the green fire, like the northern lights.  The air was still and heavy, humid, ripe with the scent of a thousand flowers.  Everywhere I heard the buzzing of insects.

Then I noticed the statue.  It stood in the center of this pond, an Isis figure of rose-colored marble, cradling the infant Horus in her lap.  

I waited a few moments at the edge of this pond, realizing the sun’s position had not changed.  This world seemed locked in eternal sunset.  I turned slowly around, looking at the shadowy silhouettes of the tree line and the velvet blue haze of the woods behind.  I saw that the pond was at the bottom of a great, bowl shaped depression, like an ancient crater.  I decided to see what was up along the rim.

I fought my way through the thick reeds and pussy willows that grew along the pond, and then ducked my head under the branches as I entered the trees.  Here I scrabbled up a slope covered in old pine needles.  Eventually I reached the edge of the rim, and my breath caught at the sight of a magnificent view.

The bowl shaped depression, it turned out, was the cauldron of a long extinct volcano.  I was standing then atop this high peak.  Under the bluish dark of twilight, I beheld beautiful mountain valleys, green with rich farmland and vineyards.  These shone green and gold in the fading light.  Jagged mountain peaks concealed the horizon, capped with snow.  Everything was verdant and lush.  It seemed to me it must be late summer, just before harvest time.

Suddenly, to my right, I heard a stealthy sound.  Peering through the trees I spotted a fawn with a pale brown coat dappled with white spots.  It emerged from the trees and paused at the head of a thin deer path, watching for me.  I understood it wished me to follow.

As I approached it started down the deer path into the valley below.  I followed it.  The course zig-zagged down the mountainside through the twilight forest, the tall trees looking to me like cedar.  Now and again the fawn would stop and look over its shoulder at me, to make sure I was keeping up.  Beneath the trees there was a thick carpet of ferns, tall enough that if I stepped off the deer path I might disappear into them.  So I stuck to the path and followed my guide.

We emerged at the bottom of the valley, at the edge of one of the fields.  To my right was a farmstead, a collection of single-story stone buildings with thatched roofs, surrounded by a low stone wall.  The fawn walked along the edge of this wall to a square gateway, two straight pillars with a lintel laying across them.  The lintel was inscribed with what looked to be Norse or Germanic runes.

The fawn turned to pass through this gate.  As she did, she underwent a startled transformation.  A little girl merged from under a fawnskin cloak, which she neatly folded and tucked under her arm.  She was eight or nine years old, with pale blonde hair in a long single braid.  Her skin was pale, eyes green, and she wore a simple dress of spotless white.  A crown of pink flowers encircled her head.  She gestured for me to follow, and passing under the arch I entered a paved courtyard.  The cobblestones were wet; I had the impression they had just been washed.  In the center of this courtyard was a well, and to my right was a stone and thatched cottage.  To my left was a barn.  At the opposite side was a small yard.

My name is SOMUE, I told her.  Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.

Love is the law, love under will, she replied.  My name is MIALO. (in Enochian 194, = to PARADIZ “young girl, virgin”)

Is this BAG, the 28th Aethyr?

It is.  She gestured across the courtyard and over to the yard.  Please follow me.  I will take you to Mother.

I nodded, following her into the yard.  To the left of the were stables, and I could see the heads of beautiful white horses with golden manes.  As we approached the yard I saw a small pond with white swans sailing on its surface.  Overhead, geese flew in a V formation.  There were apple trees, and at the far edge of the yard another low stone wall with the vineyards stretching out behind it.  

The most striking thing in this yard, however, was a white marble fountain.  A young satyr (faun) was pouring wine from an urn into the pool.  The fountain was carved with a motif of grapes and vines.

Behind the fountain, with her back to me, was a woman.  Like the girl she had white blonde hair in a long braid down her back.  On her head was a circlet of gold.  She wore a gauzy, pale green cloak over a long dress of rose pink.  When she turned towards me, i was startled.  She didn’t have a face.

This is Mother, the little girl told me.  I greeted the woman, but she did not—could not—answer.  Then the little girl dropped her fawn cloak on the grass and stepped forward to embrace the Mother.  The moment they touch the girl disappeared into the woman as if absorbed.  Now, the woman looked at me with a new face…Mialo’s, but older.  

Greetings SOMUE.  I am DIAFNE.

It seemed perfectly normal to her that she had just consumed her child in this way, so I nodded my head and collected my thoughts.  I have come to learn the nature of this Aethyr.  What can you teach me of it?

Nothing, she replied.

Nothing?

What I know cannot be communicated, only experienced.  She explained.  

I thought about this.  How?

She gestured for me to sit beside her on the edge of the fountain.  Taking up a heavy golden cup engraved with sporting fauns, dryads, and grapes, she dipped it into the pool of wine.  First drink this.

I took the cup.  The wine was deepest violet, spelling of fragrant spices.  A warning touched my heart.  How do I know I can trust you?

She stood and showed me the LVX signs.  At their conclusion, the clouds seemed to part on the horizon and shafts of golden light fell upon her.  I saw her gown was translucent, and beneath could make out her breasts and the curves of her body.  Suddenly, as I watched, she transformed.  Her garments faded and became pale white chased with golden threads.  Her skin became white marble.  Her eyes looked like amber stones, and her hair and eyelashes were golden threads.  She seemed to absorb the sunlight as she had the child, transforming into this goddess, a living statue of terrible beauty.

I drank the wine, feeling its warmth spread through me.  It seemed to concentrate especially between my thighs, and I felt a sudden intense arousal.

Knowledge of BAG can only be obtained by experience and union.  The formula is love.  Will you enter into me, Thelemite? 

To my great surprise, I felt a powerful desire to do this, a hot, all-consuming lust.  She undressed, letting her gown fall to the grass and then lay down across it, spreading her arms for me.  I immediately undressed as well, my eyes roaming her body.  It was perfectly smooth and white, gleaming faintly.  I lay atop her, eye to eye, and entered into her with a feeling of intense pleasure.

As we made love a curious thing started happening.  I felt her beneath me, felt myself inside her…but at the same time I felt from her point of view.  I felt my body lying on top of me, felt the pressure of me moving inside my body.  The shifting continued until I was her, and could no longer feel myself.  I was the woman making love to a stranger who looked like me.  

Orgasm approached,  and now my consciousness seemed evenly divided between two bodies.  I felt the build up to orgasm inside my body, and felt the energy mirrored in hers.  I felt myself giving and receiving pleasure.  In fact, I could no longer tell who I was any longer.  Sexual intercourse was happening but subject and object were blurred.  We were pure action and reaction, identity was gone.

Then there was a blinding white light, a sensation of warmth.  I seemed to be floating in a milky white light, warm, rainbow hued like pearl.  I had no idea who i was, what I was, where i was.  There was only Being.

Gradually, I seemed to condense, to become more and more “myself.”  It seemed I had a body again, an identity, an individuality.  I was floating naked in a pool of white, silky fluid, inside an amber colored vessel, egg-shaped.  I immediately understood I was in a womb of some sort.  Her womb.

Once I understood this, we became separate again.  She was standing fully clothed again before me, beside the fountain.  i was dressed as well, and dazed.

The formula of Love is the dissolution of the Ego, she said.  Love is Death, and simultaneous Birth.  The sperm and the egg die to become something new.  Salt dissolves into water, changing both.  Identities become lost to create something new.  You cannot truly love and remain the same person you were before.

All of this…is Venusian?  It was a feeble question and I was ashamed afterwards of asking it.  So far i was still struggling to understand a pattern to the Aethyrs, and it seemed to me TEX had been like Yesod, RII like Hod, and now BAG like Netzach.  

Here is the secret of Love and Death.  Of the Desire to Die.  The Pain of Pleasure.  If you see this as Venusian, so be it.  The Mystery to be learned is that Love and Death are the same.

Physical death, the end of life…is Love?

She nodded.  Like the sperm merging with the egg what you are is changed, not lost.  What you did, how you acted, the information of your existence remains embedded in the Universe, which was changed by your presence in it.  There can be no death for those who truly live.

 I considered what she was saying.  This is beyond communication?

Communication requires division, separation.  Union erases these.  Love is that Union.  You are required to know this, ‘Secretum Operis Magni Unitas Est.’

She turned her gaze and gestured back towards the courtyard and the gate.  It is time for you to leave.  You know what you need for the road ahead of you.  She handed me a pink lotus blossom.  Take this as a reminder.

I accepted the gift and made my goodbyes.  From the woman, MIALO emerged again, as a fawn once more.  She led me out of the gate and back up the deer path.  As we ascended, and finally reached the rim, I realized it was no longer sunset but dawn.  The sun was on the eastern horizon, in the same twilight.  

I left the fawn and descended back into the bowl-like depression.  As I entered the reeds around the pond, the vision ended.