Thelema Lodge Calendar for March 2004 e.v.
Thelema Lodge Calendar
for March 2004 e.v.The viewpoints and opinions expressed herein are the responsibility of the contributing authors and do not necessarily reflect the position of OTO or its officers.Copyright © O.T.O. and the Individual Authors, 2004 e.v.
Ordo Templi Orientis
Berkeley, CA 94702 USA
March 2004 e.v. at Thelema Lodge
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
Lodge Members and Officers
| Ritual stitchery|
and ritual stains
by Leigh Ann Hussey.
Thelema Lodge will meet in Horus Temple on the evening of the Vernal
Equinox, Friday 19th March, beginning at 7:00, to celebrate the centenary of
the Equinox of the Gods. As at any equinox, it will be our first concern to
assess and evaluate our common work together as a lodge, and the evening will
open here with a lodge meeting. Assembled members and friends will each be
invited to share suggestions for our progress, and to redefine their
individual roles and responsibilities in this enterprise. In particular, we
will be discussing the change in the mastership of Thelema Lodge which is
planned later in the spring. After this meeting we plan a communal dinner
feast, for which everyone present is encouraged to provide entree dishes or
salads to share, as well as plenty to drink. The evening then will close with
a ritual to welcome in the new year of the aeon, culminating with the entry of
Sol into Aries at 10:49, when we will select a word of the equinox for the
lodge. (Then a brisk leavetaking all around will be in order, as the evening will be nearly spent, and we have each of us to head out into the first night of the spring, and the
new century of Thelema.)
Celebration of Aleister Crowley's mass of Ecclesia Gnostica Catholica
continues every Sunday evening at Thelema Lodge, with communicants welcome to
participate. Newcomers should call the lodgemaster well ahead for further
information, and directions to Horus Temple. The gnostic mass is the central
ritual upon which our community is based, and represents the great secrets
which we share. It takes the coordinated efforts of a great many individual
Thelemites to maintain our temple and offer mass every Sunday, as Thelema
Lodge has striven to do continually for more than a quarter of the aeon.
Generosity from throughout the community is what keeps the temple beautifully
furnished, stocked with supplies, clean, organized, and ready for the next
mass. Most importantly, the generosity of all the members and friends who
volunteer to serve the lodge as officers in the mass is the source and symbol
of our success together as a community. Every one who cares about the temple
is invited to study the canon of the mass in Liber XV and to practice the
ritual privately with a few like-minded communicants until they are ready to
celebrate it openly on behalf of the temple. Speak with the lodgemaster, or
with any of our gnostic bishops, or your own favorite mass officers, for
advice on how to proceed.
Meeting in the lodge library on Monday evening 22nd March the Section Two
reading group will share a couple of the ficciones of Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986), Argentinean poet, storyteller, and scholar, who was one of the master
fantasists of twentieth century literature. Borges, who was educated in
Switzerland and began publishing as a trendy Spanish nihilist in the 1920s,
became completely blind in mid-life, but continued to write prolifically by
dictation. His favorite form, known in Spanish as ficciones, consisted of
brief essays, poems, meditations, or tales which did not tell any complete
story, but overflowed with implications of all sorts of hidden references and
meanings, never precisely delineated. If we might define magick as "control
over meaning" it would be easy to appreciate Borges as a virtuoso magician in
the language of his ficciones, continually redefining the universe of
associations which his works offer to us. The effect is often complexly and
overwhelmingly dreamlike, compelling, and evocative, constructing analogues in
literary rhetoric to various states of unconscious and visionary experience.
In the 1960s Borges, a polyglot who had spoken fluent English since childhood,
but chose to write in Spanish, collaborated extensively with an English
translator, becoming well known to readers of both American languages.
Previous Section Two Last Section Two
The Holy Hexagram
by brother Gregory Peters
|At the Ending of the Night:|
At the Limits of the Light:
Tho-oth stood before the Unborn Ones of Time!
Then was formulated the Universe:
Then came forth the Gods Thereof:
The Aeons of the Bornless Beyond:
Then was the Voice vibrated:
Then was the Name declared.
At the Threshold of the Entrance,
Between the Universe and the Infinite,
In the Sign of the Enterer, stood Tho-oth,
As before him were the Aeons proclaimed.
In Breath did he vibrate them:
In Symbols did he record them: For betwixt the Light and the Darkness did he stand.
|------ Particular Exordium|
|THE SPIRIT grows the form for self-expression, And for a hall where she may
hold high session With sister souls, who, allied with her, create Her fair
companion, her espous'd mate. Ever the hidden Person will remould
5. For all our lives fresh organs manifold, Gross for the earthly,
for the heavenly fine, Ethereal woof, wherein their graces shine. And there be
secret avenues, with doors Yielding access to inmost chamber floors
10. Of the soul's privacy; all varying frames, Responsive to the
several spirit-flames. The vital form our lost now animate Is one with what in
their low mortal state They made their own; the coarse mere ashes, waste,
15. For all grand uses of the world replaced. A larva needs no more
the unliving husk, When soaring winged he rends the dwelling dusk.|
|------ From De Profundis, Roden Berkeley Wriothesley Noel|
|O my God! One is Thy Beginning! One is Thy Spirit, and Thy Permutation One!|
|------ Liber DCCCXIII vel ARARITA, sub figura DLXX|
In his single published commentary in the Book of Lies, Aleister Crowley
described the Star Sapphire as "the real and perfect Ritual of the Hexagram."
As with the Star Ruby, which was described as the "new and more elaborate"
version of the Pentagram ritual, we find in the Star Sapphire an elaboration
and refinement of the traditional Hexagram ritual from the Golden Dawn, as
given in Liber O vel Manus et Sagittae. The changes in the Star Sapphire are
far more significant however, leaving an even wider gulf to be filled by the
right ingenium of the individual magician.
It should be understood up front that this ritual has many levels of
interpretation, each building upon the other and intertwined, even as the
snakes of the caduceus twist about one another to form the solid staff of
Hermes. Many magicians prefer to focus exclusively on the sexual
interpretations of the Star Sapphire; yet, this misses many further levels of
application for the rite; and it may yet be that they are each a veil for
Based on the formula of Tetragrammaton, Liber 36 follows the eternal cycle
of creation from the Night of Pan to manifestation, and the return therein to
annihilation. Crowley comments on this formula in Magick in Theory and
Practice (Liber ABA, Part III), chapter 3:
|The Star Sapphire corresponds with the Star-Ruby of chapter 25; 36 being
the square of 6, as 25 is of 5.
This chapter gives the real and perfect Ritual of the Hexagram.
It would be improper to comment further upon an official ritual of the A
|------ Aleister Crowley, commentary , Book of Lies|
Further on in the same chapter, we read that
|The formation of the "Yod" is the formulation of the first creative force,
of that father who is called "self-begotten", and unto whom it is said: "Thou
has formulated thy Father, and made fertile thy Mother". The adding of the
"He" to the "Yod" is the marriage of that Father to the great co-equal Mother,
who is a reflection of Nuit as He is of Hadit. Their union brings forth the
son "Vau" who is the heir. Finally the daughter "He" is produced. She is both
the twin sister and the daughter of "Vau".
His mission is to redeem her by making her his bride; the result of this is
to set her upon the throne of her mother, and it is only she whose youthful
embrace can reawaken the eld of the All-Father. In this complex family
relationship is symbolised the whole course of the Universe. It will be seen
that (after all) the Climax is at the end. It is the second half of the
formula which symbolises the Great Work which we are pledged to accomplish.
The first step of this is the attainment of the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel, which constitutes the Adept of the Inner Order. The
re-entry of these twin spouses into the womb of the mother is that initiation
described in Liber 418, which gives admission to the Inmost Order of the A
Of the last step we cannot speak.|
At each of the cardinal points one aspect of this family dynamic is invoked
over the Holy Hexagram, linking each in succession from the Father to the
Mother, the Mother to the Son, the Son to the Daughter, and the Daughter back
unto the Father yet again, for a return of the cycle and initiation of a new
The ritual opens with the Signs of N.O.X. As the traditional Hexagram
ritual utilizes the Signs of L.V.X. or Light, the Signs of N.O.X. are the
Night of Pan, that radiant brilliance of the supernal light that is so
effulgent, it may only be perceived as darkness beneath the Abyss. This N.O.X.
or Night is the dome of the heavens of Nuit, the starry night sky of eternity,
the depths of nothingness which are the source of the Rosy Cross, which arises
like a trident of fire out of the union of opposites.
While some would argue that the Hexagrams traced at each quarter are the
unicursal form, the symbolism of the traditional earth hexagram as the union
of a fire and water triangle (male and female, active and passive, light and
darkness, and so on) is far more effective. In practice, we have found that
the traditional hexagrams transform spontaneously into the unicursal form
after all four have been traced.
The name ARARITA is part of the invocation for each quarter, even as it is
used in the traditional hexagram rite. ARARITA is a notariqon of the Hebrew
phrase Achad Rosh, Achadotho Rosh, Ichudo Temurazo Achad, meaning "One is His
Beginning, One His Individuality, His Permutation One". The individual word
achad signifies "one" or unity; achadotho is "unity" or "oneness." The
numeration of the word ARARITA is 813, which is identical with the qabalistic
numeration of Genesis I:3:
The Yod will represent a swift and violent creative energy; following this
will be a calmer and more reflective but even more powerful flow of will, the
irresistible force of a mighty river. This state of mind will be followed by
an expansion of the consciousness; it will penetrate all space, and this will
finally undergo a crystallization resplendent with interior light. Such
modifications of the original Will may be observed in the course of the
invocations when they are properly performed.|
The creation of the hexagrams at each quarter does result in an influx of
light, the solar-phallic light of magick fire. The hexagram itself is a symbol
of the union of GOD and MAN, resulting in the GOD-MAN which is the lightning
rod between the fiery heavens above, and the fertile earth below. This is the
union represented as the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel, and it is this union that is identified as the Rosy Cross and reception
into the College of the Holy Ghost; mirrored on earth as the union of
opposites resulting in the creation of a third thing, that is both the
combination of the two which are one, and something beyond even this.
The sacrament drunk is the wine of the Rosy Cross, the kiss of the Holy
Guardian Angel, which informs and penetrates the magician throughout their
being, as they strive in the sign of Set Triumphant to storm the gates of
paradise, inflaming in prayer, crying out ARARITA! In an unpublished diary
entry Crowley remarks that the object of all magical rituals is the raising of
the kundalini; it is at this moment that the fire snake weaves her way up the
spine of the magician, achingly, longingly reaching out to the stars. The sacrament is shared with the Angel as the consummation of the marriage between
eternity and temporal consciousness.
It is said that Set shall appear in the Circle. In the excellent commentary
on this Name given in Liber V vel Reguli, Crowley gives the spelling as , with the following explanation:
Vayomer Elohim Yehi Aur, Vihi Aur
("And the Elohim said, "Let there be light', and there was light.")|
Ra-Hoor-Khuit is the visible image of the Lord of the Universe, an expression
of the All-Father, and symbolic of the Holy Guardian Angel. Further on in this
same commentary, Crowley remarks:
ShT is equally 31 with LA and AL, but it expresses the secret nature which
operates the Magick or the transmutations.
ShT is the formula of this particular AEon; another aeon might have another
way of saying 31.
Sh is Fire as T is Force; conjoined they express Ra-Hoor-Khuit.
"The Angel" represents the Stele 666, showing the Gods of the aeon, while
"Strength" is a picture of Babalon and the Beast, the earthly emissaries of
ShT is the dynamic equivalent of LA and AL. Sh shows the Word of the Law,
being triple, as 93 is thrice 31. T shows the formula of Magic declared in
that Word; the Lion, the Serpent, the Sun, Courage and Sexual Love are all
indicated by the card.|
As Above, so Below; As Within, so Without.
It should be noted as well that when spelled the numeration is 700. This
is also the value of paroketh, the Veil of the Tabernacle which is said to be
placed before the Temple of the Sun in Tiphareth.
Then standing triumphantly, ecstatically, the magician calls out the
incantation of the attainment which signifies
ShT supplies the last element; making the Word of either five or six
letters, according as we regard ShT as one letter or two. Thus the Word
affirms the Great Work accomplished: 5 = 6
Sh is the Holy Spirit as a "tongue of fire" manifest in triplicity, and is
the child of Set-Isis as their logos or Word uttered by their "Angel." The
card is XX, and 20 is the value of yod (the secret seed of all things, the
Virgin, "The Hermit," Mercury, the Angel or Herald) expressed in full as IVD.
Sh is the spiritual congress of Heaven and Earth.
But T is the Holy Spirit in action as a "roaring Lion" or as "the old
Serpent" instead of an "Angel of Light." The twins of Set-Isis, harlot and
beast, are busy with that sodomitic and incestuous lust which is the
traditional formula for producing demi-gods, as in the cases of Mary and the
Dove, Leda and the Swan, etc. The card is XI, the number of Magick AVD: aleph
"The Fool" impregnating the woman according to the Word of yod, the Angel of
the Lord! His sister has seduced her brother Beast, shaming the Sun with her
sin; she has mastered the Lion, and enchanted the Serpent. Nature is outraged
by Magick; man is bestialized and woman defiled. The conjunction produces a
monster; it affirms regression of types. Instead of a man-God conceived of the
Spirit of God by a virgin in innocence, we are asked to adore the bastard of a
whore and a brute, begotten in shamefullest sin and born in most blasphemous
This is in fact the formula of our Magick; we insist that all acts must be
equal; that existence asserts the right to exist; that unless evil is a mere
term expressing some relation of haphazard hostility between forces equally
self-justified, the universe is as inexplicable and impossible as
uncompensated action; that the orgies of Bacchus and Pan are no less
sacramental than the Masses of Jesus; that the scars of syphilis are sacred
and worthy of honour as much as the wounds of the martyrs of Mary.|
The ritual then directs to end with the Signs of L.V.X., as confirmation of
this union and expression of the Divine in Man.
Of the ritual as a whole, one can do no better than to return to Crowley's
commentary from Liber V vel Reguli:
All in Two; Two in One; One in None; These are neither Four nor All nor Two
nor One nor None.
Glory be to the Father and the Mother and the Son and the Daughter and the
Holy Spirit without and the Holy Spirit within as it was, is, will be for ages
and ages, six in one through the name seven in one, ARARITA.|
So also shall he who invoketh often behold the Formless Fire, with
trembling and bewilderment; but if he prolong his meditation, he shall resolve
it into coherent and intelligible symbols, and he shall hear the articulate
utterance of that Fire, interpret the thunder thereof as a still small voice
in his heart. And the Fire shall reveal to his eyes his own image in its own
true glory; and it shall speak in his ears the mystery that is his own right
This then in the virtue of the Magick of The Beast 666, and the canon of
its proper usage; to destroy the tendency to discriminate between any two
things in theory, and in practice to pierce the veils of every sanctuary,
pressing forward to embrace every image; for there is none that is not very
Isis. The Inmost is one with the Inmost; yet the form of the One is not the
form of the other; intimacy exacts fitness. He therefore who liveth by air,
let him not be bold to breathe water. But mastery cometh by measure: to him
who with labour, courage, and caution giveth his life to understand all that
doth encompass him, and to prevail against it, shall be increase. "The word of
Sin is Restriction": seek therefore Righteousness, enquiring into Iniquity,
and fortify thyself to overcome it.|
|------ Aleister Crowley, commentary to Liber V vel Reguli|
During the autumn of 1917 e.v. and the following winter, when Crowley had
editorial charge of The International in New York, he ran a regular column
toward the back of most issues which usually consisted of two or three brief
reviews of newly published books. Most of the individual notices were either
signed "A. C." or with pseudonyms such as "Therion," and Crowley himself seems
to have been the author of them all. From novels and detective stories to
histories and political or religious tracts, these reviews involved some
eclectic reading, although there is one exception in that three of the longest
reviews (excluded from the present selection) are concerned specifically with
the history of Belgium. (In view of "the present conflict," as Crowley wrote,
it seemed "of the utmost importance that everyone should grasp the WHY of
Several of the books Crowley selected for review have since been reprinted
and remain available today. Crowley's remarks upon The Shadow Line (Joseph
Conrad's 1917 tale of far shores) display a critical acumen both insightful
and respectful. The concluding remark implying that Conrad was Hungarian is
however a complete distortion. (Born Konrad Korzeniowski, this remarkable
English prose stylist was raised in a Polish family who were political exiles
in Czarist Russia, and when orphaned as a young man he went to France and
joined the merchant marine. During his twenties he first learned English and
went on to become a British subject, so that when he later retired to write
his masterful fictive analyses of remote life in the outposts of the various
European empires, it was to England that he went and in English that he
worked. Conrad never had any particular connection with Hungary.) Crowley's
remark about Arthur Machen being German is likewise complete nonsense.
Machen, whose surname in civil life was Llewellyn, came from a long line of
Crowley's review of the penultimate collection of Conan Doyle's Sherlock
Holmes stories is consistent with later critical opinion of that volume. Only
a couple of its nine individual stories seem fully within the old Baker Street
tradition, although it is not possible from Crowley's remarks to deduce
precisely which were his favorites, since seven of them had previously
appeared (mostly between 1908 and 1913) in The Strand magazine. "Wisteria
Lodge" and "The Bruce-Partington Plans" are the best known cases in His Last
Bow, and "The Cardboard Box" (subsequently deleted from the collection and
inserted into later editions of The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes) is the only
one which dates from the "classic" Baker Street period of the early 1890s.
Selected Book Reviews from
by Aleister Crowley
The Gate of Knowledge
Philistine and Genius
by Dr Boris Sidis
(Boston: Richard G. Badger)
This essay on education appears certain to become a classic. With
extraordinary acumen Prof. Sidis discovers the primary cause of all our evils
to be the violation of the biological law which provides for variation.
Variation is the means of evolution. Our whole educational system is directed
to stamping out every departure from type. What we really do is to place the
most stupid, the most bound, the most cowardly, upon a pedestal. Procrustes
is our ideal educator. We cramp genius, we punish originality, we stifle
inquiry, we place our children in Rooms of Little Ease where they can neither stand, sit, not lie with comfort. Our sex taboo, our religious taboo, our
social taboo are omnipotent. We deliberately crush out all originality by
these three engines of torture.
Prof. Sidis does not mention it, but one of the reasons why such genius as
we have is so enormously removed from the common level is that the genius, in
order to develop at all, must be originally endowed with almost superhuman
moral strength. The gap between him whose spirit has not been broken and him
in whom "education" has been a success grows constantly wider with the
perfection of our methods for suppressing him. It is quite true, as Prof.
Sidis says, that every child has latent genius. The doctrine of the New Aeon
is "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law," which is explained by
stating that, "Every man and every woman is a star." The trouble arises from
the forcing of these stars into collisions by distortion of their orbits.
The business of the educator is to discover the true will of the child, the
purpose for which he was born upon this planet, and to assist him to develop
that will to the highest possible point; to remove the restrictions from that
will so far as possible. Our present method is the precise contrary of this.
No sooner does a child manifest tendency towards and capacity for any given
investigation than the teacher takes alarm. It is the old fable of the "Ugly
We hope that Prof. Sidis will not rest upon his oars.
|---- A. C. [October 1917 e.v.]|
The Shadow Line
The plot of this novel is identical with that of Lord Dunsany's "Poor Old
Bill." The difference is that between the realist and the fantastic. It is
instructive to read them side by side. Joseph Conrad is the greatest master
of atmosphere now living, so far at least as the East is concerned. In fact,
I do not even know an immortal shade who can compare with him.
Rudyard Kipling gives the violence, the coarseness and the horror, which
are very effective from the literary point of view, but which do not exist in
the East, so far as I know.
Stevenson, on the other hand, has everything toned down. He throws a
Scotch mist over the proceedings. Conrad describes the East, both subjective
and objective, in precisely the same terms as I should do if I had his power
of expression. There is no need to tell the story of the book; any story or
no story would have done just as well. He takes me back ten years to my long
lonely walk across China, to the explosive causality of Hai-Phong, the Fata
Morgana which I saw off Hoi-How, to the Akashic obsessions of silence and
darkness and stillness which closed in upon us in those very waters which he
describes in The Shadow Line. Even the captain's woman is a living portrait
of one whom I knew in those ensorcelled days, a tuberculous hag of paint and
rottenness and vice, who yet possessed the power to awaken the very fountain
of calf-love from its frozen sleep. It is very interesting to compare Conrad
with Stevenson. Stevenson is never happy unless he has the decks awash with
blood and slime. Mr Conrad is one of those rarest and most supreme of artists
who does not need incident in order to be interesting. He does not fear to
use it, but he does not depend upon it. It is rather significant that England
should have had to go to Hungary for her supreme prose artist.
by Joseph Conrad
(Doubleday, Page, & Co.)
|---- A. C. [October 1917 e.v.]|
What Every Man and Woman
In 1904 I was in a particularly malarious district in Burma. Death drove
his cruisers at a gallop, four abreast: Plague, Cholera, Typhoid, Dysentery.
I remember going down to the bank of the Irrawaddy in the hope of some
breath of fresh air -- and I came upon the carcass of a mule, most actively
putrescent. I made a mental note to avoid the repetition of any such
experience, but history repeats itself; I wrote to Mr Tapp for a copy of his
Surely our civilization is pestilential enough without the putrescence of
such degenerate paranoiacs. Mr Tapp wallows in psychopathy, and gloats; to
him the most innocent pleasures seem foul, and a cemetery excites no idea in
his mind but the digging-up of corpses for the delectation of necrophiles.
I leave for the Irrawaddy basin by the first steamer. Meanwhile -- oh, any
basin, please, Steward!
Should Know about the Bible
by Sidney C. Tapp
Take a tip -- don't take a Tapp!
|---- A. Quiller, Jr [October 1917 e.v.]|
The Golden Verses of Pythagoras
This translation of these famous essays is in all respects excellent. The
prose is sonorous and well measured, and the translator has well seized the
sense of the original. The only blemishes are occasional idiomatic lapses
where Miss Redfield, as it appears to us, imitates the French usage too
faithfully. The edition is finely produced, and should form a most valuable
addition to any philosophical library.
There is here no space for an extended criticism of Pythagoras or of this
interpretation of him. A volume of nearly equal size would be required to do
justice in such a manner. We will therefore not dwell upon what appears to be
the failure to transcend dualism, beyond remarking that there is only one
solution to the problem of evil. That solution is given in the "Book of the
Law." The universe has two phases. One delights in creation and the other in
destruction, and the cyclic process serves each in turn. But it is most
pertinent to remark that Fabre d'Olivet announces a doctrine which in its
essence is singularly harmonious with that of Blavatsky regarding
perfectibility. It is indeed the doctrine of the adepts which is here
foreshadowed. Fortified by this tradition, this author has managed to do good
work in the matter of Eastern religion, despite the dreadful ignorance and
misapprehension which prevailed in his time with regard to the purport of
oriental doctrines. Those minds in which Truth exists as an inheritance can
never be upset by the discovery of new facts; on the contrary, such
discoveries confirm them in their Truth.
with an Essay on the
Essence and Form of Poetry
by Fabre d'Olivet,
translated by Nayan Louise Redfield
(Putnam & Son)
|---- Therion [November 1917 e.v.]|
The Duality of the Bible
The mystery is out. We owe our readers a sort of apology for the tone of
voice which we used last month in reviewing Mr Tapp's other volume. We ought
to have known that so unwholesome a mind might imply an unhealthy body. In this present volume Mr Tapp explains that he suffered when young from certain
diseases of the ear, necessitating operations which were evidently partial
failures; for we find that he could not write his book with his own hand,
owing to a spine injured by these operations.
Mr Tapp's views on sex are therefore those of an unfortunate rather than of
a wicked person. (It may be philosophically doubted whether these two things
are not one.) However, the point is that for Mr Tapp to lay down the law on
sex is like an oyster lecturing on the disadvantages of being vertebrate. We
are extremely sorry for this wreck of humanity, but we shall not take it for
our guide, any more than we should listen to the crew of reformed drunkards
who tell us that we cannot drink a glass of wine without being dipsomaniacs.
One of the worst results of our present policy of preserving the lives of the
abnormal and degenerate is that they have worked their way into public affairs
till civilization has become a hospital.
by Sidney C. Tapp
|---- A. C. [November 1917 e.v.]|
I have always maintained that Arthur Machen was one of the most original
and excellent minds of England. The distinction of his thought and style is
one of the most unmistakable of contemporary literary phenomena. He failed
somewhat to come to his full stature because of an unfortunate obsession. His
reverence for antiquity is so great that he has been compelled to follow the
great masters in what I may call the framework of their art. Thus he began by
telling Stevenson stories, and he was obliged to give them Stevenson's
sections, so that The Three Impostors reads like a new episode of The
Dynamiter. In particular, "Miss Leicester" or "Miss Lally" make a very fair
duplicate of Stevenson's one successful attempt to portray a woman. I was
rather sorry to see Mr Machen adventure himself in the province of scientific
romance. It was only too clear that he would adopt the manner of Mr H. G.
Wells. However, his distinction has saved him from too margarine an effect.
One is able to say with clear conscience that this is an excellent story,
At the same time, one must say that this is not at all the time to have
written it. The story is grossly seditious and openly pro-German. Mr Machen,
as his name implies, is, of course, himself a pure German. It is impossible
to understand the stupidity of the British authorities in not having him
interned, or indeed executed. It will be remembered that he furnished the
basis for the fable of the "Angels of Mons," which did so much to discourage
recruiting in the early days of the war. This book is equally pernicious.
The catastrophe is caused, according to him, by the fact of the animals having
lost their fear of and respect for man, owing to the wickedness of man, the
abdication of his human sovereignty. Now, Mr Machen caused his catastrophy to
take place in England. His characters blame the wicked Germans for everything
that happened when it is really their own fault. That Satanic Teutonic
subtlety! Mr Machen's book elaborates this thesis. "In England, men have
become the equivalent of beasts. In Germany, however, there are no troubles
of any kind. Germany has lost its moral superiority to the lower animals."
We are unfortunately not in possession of the checks which must have been
paid to Mr Machen by the Huns, but it is not a case where one needs to wait
for further evidence. He should be shot at sunrise and no more ado about it.
by Arthur Machen
(McBride, New York)
|---- C. M. (of the Supervigilantes) [December 1917 e.v.]|
His Last Bow
Either Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is getting old, or I am. I do not find these
last adventures of Sherlock Holmes nearly so good as those which gave me joy
at the period of puberty. Even when I search my memory, it appears to me that
some of them lack the point which really appealed to us. These stories are
quite as melodramatic as the others, but they do not exhibit Holmes himself to
such advantage. Dr Joseph Bell is dead, and I think that Sir Arthur must have
used him up a long while ago.
The only stories in the present volume which appeal to me are those that I
remember reading when published in magazines years ago. In particular, the
epilogue, the war story, which begs the whole question of detection. We are
not interested in the adventures of Sherlock Holmes. We are interested in the
quality of his mind, his power of deduction, and in a less degree in his
special knowledge. A detective story is really very like a chess problem.
There must be a complete correlation of cause and effect and a just balance
between them. Absence of such qualities is not atoned for by grotesque
situations or violent action. It is perfectly easy to multiply deaths. There
is no more difficulty in killing a million people than a thousand. The
essence of the art of the detective story is to exhibit the superior
intelligence of a certain man. It is this which has made the stories of Poe
and Gaboriau immortal. Du Boisgobey fails just where these others succeeded.
The original Sherlock Holmes had some claim to share their eminence, for he
introduced a new type of superior man, the scientific observer who increases
knowledge by the observation of minute differences, just as Lord Rayleigh
discovered the presence of some unknown element in atmospheric air through
observation of the infinitesimal differences in its specific weight with that
of the nitrogen of the laboratory, and so led to the discovery of argon.
These stories, therefore, were naturally popular at a moment when the general
imagination was highly excited by the discoveries of physical science. Today
that interest has been suspended by the new work in psychology, and we shall
therefore expect that the great classical detective story of the period will
be based upon minute observation of psychological facts. This, at least,
strikes us as the most probable reason for the immense vogue of Simon Iff.
by Arthur Conan Doyle
(George H. Doran Company)
|---- [unsigned; January 1918 e.v.]|
Previous Crowley Classics Last TLC Crowley Classics
from the Grady Project:
|This portion of Grady's long poem made of his memories of Korean War service
comprises approximately half of the complete work, which we began in January
and hope to complete in these pages next month. This poem has not been
previously published, except that portions of the present section appeared in
these pages several years ago in an excerpt from this poem which Grady sent to
an O.T.O. sister in the late 1950s e.v.|
Memo Pencilled On a Helmet Skull
by Grady L. McMurtry
Ammo, AMmo, AMMo, AMMO
You can't fight a war without ammo!
And somewhere up along the MSR
The road is blocked with a slide.
"OK, Myers, OK. Lay off the panic button.
I can hear you screaming from here
What am I supposed to do,
Clean it off with my elbows and fingernails?
Half the convoys are already lost on the other side
And the ones on this side can't get through anyway.
Take it easy, we're working on it.
And keep The Chinaman busy."
This don't show me much,
But if you can't go over it you gotta go around it.
OK, that's east to TEN Corps
Or southwest towards Seoul.
Check the Truck Battalion 3
The southern route is open but no info on the east
They're working on it
That's fine, that's great
I've got troubles I haven't even heard about
And we'll send convoys in both directions
And hope that something gets through.
Down 17 to Kap'yong, swing north on 17A
Keep them rolling
Keep pushing it
Over two mountain passes and up the winding Pukhan-gang
And my heart rides with them
For a slip of the wrist and you're over the bluff
On the cliff road east of Kap'yong.
Or right on 29 to the junction
22 hundred hours CHECK!
Now they've turned north on 103
Up the jumbled slopes of Puyang-san
"Come on you Jimmy six-by"
"Come on you son of a deuce-and-a-half"
Sturdy trucks those GMC's
Six wheels down and six wheels driving
Wheeled by the sons of the "Rolling O"
Wheeled by the bastard "Double Clutchers" MOVE IT!
GET YOUR FUCKING ASS IN GEAR!
We've got a WAR to fight
I have got you maxed!
MOSHI MOSHI, HAI!
NO SHIT! YOU'RE KIDDING
FAR FUCKING OUT!
"You calls, we hauls
We got 2 by 2's, fo' by fo's, 6 by's, semi's
And those great big mother-fuckers that go
Far into the night
All the way to Hwachon
Either way to Hwachon
All that's left of Hwachon
Which is four walls and a piss pipe
And then on to the ROK's.
When we first came here they told us
"You've had it. This is the Central Front. II ROK Corps.
All you've got in front of you is ROK's.
All The Chinaman has to do is sneeze
And they'll take off like a herd of turtles."
But that was before the ROK's got artillery.
Sure The Laundryman hit the ROK Divisions.
Those "high powered American Divisions,"
More glory to them,
Had BIG guns to play with
All the s'koshi ROK's had were guts and bayonets.
Now it's a different story.
Now the ROK's have boom guns too
105's and ace-double-nickles
And even a few 8" American batteries to back them up.
(On a clear night in Ch'unch'un
You can see the muzzle flash of the 8 inch HOW's
(Orange stab winking into darkness)
20 miles away, looking north,
Just to the right of Ch'unch'on Hill)
October in the Kumhwa Ridges
And The Chinaman decides to push. (Damn!)
This is it (again)
This is the frontier in flame.
Up along highway 6 to Chorwon,
Kumhwa and the Iron Triangle.
And there is Joe Chink up on Pappa-san
Breathing down your neck
And dropping in his marker rounds (one . . . two . . . three . . .)
TIME ON TAR-GET!)
"Look, Jonesy, we gotta have more VT's.
You know we can't stop them without VT's!
Yeah, yeah, I know.
Take it easy. You're working on it."
Well, that's all she wrote.
The ROK's, are they holding? Hell, they've got to hold.
And with their 105's to back them up they will hold.
(Maybe this is what Einstein meant when he said
"In the next war we'll throw ROK's at them.")
Flame in the night
Artillery thunder rolling in the mountains.
What are they doing?
Is it good enough?
And the stories that come filtering back:
The Kay-MAG adviser the ROK's knocked down
And covered with their own bodies
When the barrage came crashing in.
Not just about to lose that MEE-gook adviser!
(Oh ya better believe it, boysan)
The choppers lifting through the acrid smelling smoke
Like pollywogs in hell
Bringing the dripping bundles of shredded flesh
Back to the forward MASH
How rough can it get?
"And keep that ammo humping, GI!"
Sure, sure, got it rolling
Hubba-hubba all the way.
It's at times like this that the walls start closing in
(Ya gotta watch those walls!)
This squirrel cage is going nuts
And Odd John the Panic Button Pusher
Is on the phone again.
"How much 105 r'ya sending up tonight?"
"None, sir, we cleaned out this morning."
"Wal then get some 155 on the road."
"Can't, sir, that's all gone too."
"DON'T ARGUE WITH ME, SEND 40 TRUCK LOADS!"
Just like they say
"All the world be crazy save thee and me
And right now I'm not so sure about thee."
So you take it out with a GI gripe
And work off some of the steam
With your own little Rabelesian ribaldry
Like "The KMAG Song," "R.A. -- All The Way!"
Or, "The Sheik of Sockcho-ri."
Singing nonsense under your breath
While the world rocks
And you push that ammo forward with body english
"Oh, I'm the Sheik -- not the Freak -- but the Sheik of Socho-ri!
For I just love kimchee!
At night when you're asleep
On your hot floor I'll creep
(Without no pa-i-yants on!)"
Just like when we were sweating out the landings in Normandy
And sang with the British paratroopers
"Aoh, I don't want to join the Army
I don't want to go to war.
I just want to 'ang around
The Piccadilly H'Underground Living on the earnings of a
'igh class laidy ------"
But that was another campaign long, oh very long ago.
Now we live in the Atomic Age and the roads are just as dusty.
Then comes that snow "that just won't stop"
And the first touch of that searing Siberian wind
Sweeping down over the frost fingered ridges of Korea
Where alien stars look down upon
An alien desert land
And alien winds blow alien snow
Across the alien sand.
"Now is the time of all good men"
To come and bring their hibachis.
(Soliloquy spoken beside a Korean mound burial)
I am a Centurion of the Legions (echo: "ave caesar!")
I spoke strange oaths in many foreign tongues
And home is where I hang my helmet skull.
I am a Centurion of the Legions
I have campaigned for my country to the ends of the Earth
And the term of my service is the measure of my devotion.
I am a Centurion of the Legions.
I have stood the watch on Chotto Matte's Castle
Where the wild mares breed in the border marches
And Peace I have known as a lull in an endless storm.
I am a Centurion of the Legions.
I bring discipline to anarchy and order out of chaos
And I look with the bleak eyes of experience
On the crumbling transience of eternity.
I am a Centurion of the Legions.
I hold back the Ages of Darkness
And I stand my ground when those about me turn and flee
Crying, "Blow it out your tailpipe. We got better things to do
Than wasting our days and years upon those barren hills.
These slopies got no regard for what we're doing anyhow."
Dai'jobel. Cutta, djeska, bali-bali.
I am a Centurion of the marching Legions
In my combat boots and piss pot I stand naked
Before the onrushing years of forever
And down the endless corridors of suns and winds
And men of Rome
And men who call their Asia home
And men from East
And men from West
And men who follow the Eagle's crest
And men from far
And men from near
And men who shout their challenge clear
And men who died in the long ago
And men who'll live in the Space below
Tramping down through the winds and days
The sweat and heat and the humid haze
To the rolling pound of the kettle DRUMS!
WHAM! BAM! DOUBLEDY DAMN!
Flex and stride with a rolling cam
WHAM! BAM! DOUBLEDY DAMN!
Stride and swing from the knee-o.
And the nasal skirl of the screaming pipes