If you want something done, write it yourself. I'm a Folklorist, Author, and Article writer. I've got everything from creative writing to philosophy of science. I discuss life as a novelist and musician. I may even get into recipes now and again. Who knows? There's no telling what goes on in my head on any given day.
Sunday, December 28, 2014
Magus Magazine: Ritual & Transition States in Gods & Man
Magus Magazine: Ritual & Transition States in Gods & Man: Ritual &Transition States in Non-Humans by Preston Copeland Discussing non-humans has many more implications than just anthro...
Ritual & Transition States in Gods & Man
Discussing non-humans has many more implications than just anthropomorphism. As Latour has remarked, “Non-humans have not been emerging for aeons just to serve as so many props to show the mastery, intelligence, and design capacities of humans or their divine creations. They have their own intelligence, their own design, and plenty of transcendence to go on, that is, to reproduce” (Latour, Bruno. Will Non-Humans Be Saved?2009). Although many non-humans do have human-like qualities or tendencies, they are autonomous entities that have their own trajectory and hold their own agency. Attributing only anthropomorphism to deity production is like trying to play a three-note guitar chord with only two strings. Although there is a familiarity with the sound, something seems missing. This something in terms of non-humans is evolutionary and experiential.
Truth be told, non-humans aren't so much ineffable or
infallible as incommensurable. Much like biological organisms, there is an
evolution of the supernatural. Deities that are fittest or created
with a favorable evolutionary trait tends to be more successful over time.
These genetic variances may mutate and shift as in the case of the Holy Tree.
According to what is known as the “Golden Legend”, the true cross came from
three seeds from the ‘tree of mercy’ in the Garden of Eden. These three seeds
were placed in the mouth of Adam’s corpse by Seth. After many centuries, wood
from the tree was used to build a bridge that was used by the Queen of Sheba on
her travels to meet King Solomon. When she walked across the bridge, Sheba was
struck with a portent and began to worship. After reaching Solomon, she told
the king about her omen of the holy-wood that would eventually lead to a new
covenant between God and his people. This terrified the king and he had the
timber buried. However, fourteen generations later, it would be wood from this
bridge that is fashioned to produce Christ’s cross.
The narrative shows how non-humans have an evolutionary
trajectory. The tree (object) went from being a seed, to a tree, bridge,
crucifixion cross, and holy relic. But its symbolization, or what it means
epistemologically, also evolved as centuries passed. This non-human’s meaning
changed as it was imbued with the numinous. In fact, the severity of its
numinous qualities ebbed and flowed through time. It was certainly a sacred
object when it was in seed form and placed in Adam’s mouth. However, it lost
some of its sacred power when Solomon buried it underground. Not till it was
fashioned into Christ’s cross did the object reach its evolutionary potential.
As a religious determinate, the true cross underwent an epistemic trajectory
wherein its power as a religious symbol changed.
Self-determining deities also show evolutionary prowess as they
move through time and space. However, there is an incommensurable aspect to the
trajectory that keeps us from making oblique comparisons of sacred narratives.
Because of its experiential nature, interactions with deities are necessarily
incommensurable and must be examined as autonomous but non-comparable events.
Its like comparing an entheogenic psilocybin experience with the visitation at Fatima by
the Virgin Mary. Both are numinous events but they cannot be compared in any
way. The experience of psilocybin-its affective qualities and pure unmitigated
surrealism cannot be compared to any other numinous experience in any
way because every experience of the sacred is new. Every
numinous event is different in every way from other religious events due to the subjective
experience in a sacred event. After all, we’re not comparing the experience
of going to a baseball game or a movie. An experience of the deity is something
extra-ordinary. It can be wholly beautiful or awful and terrifying. But the
interaction will be unique and the experience new. And these are the qualities
that are renewed or re-embodied through
religious ritual. Although the experiences are incommensurable, they can be
renewed subjectively to foster a change of state.
In the work of trajectories, the re-presentation of gods are
a form of ritual economy. The rite of passage involves Man and the Deity to be
successful. As Chris Knight and Camilla Power have remarked, “The gods do not
just appear and then replicate themselves autonomously through being
‘attention-grabbing’. Rather, the immortals need organized communal help”
(Journal of Royal Anthropological Institute. 4(11) March 1988. pp 129-132.
Comment). Through the rite of passage sequence, the Deity and Man exhibit a
ritual exchange of goods and services. But it is Man that performs the
high-cost activities of conjuration. It is Man that does the dancing, and
chanting, and trance exploration. They must in order to be embodied. And every
occultist knows this.
We already know that transition states lead to
re-presentation of the initiate. What isn't as readily discussed is the effect
ritual has on the deity. After all, ritual is an interaction. In the past, the
deity has enjoyed a central place in the interaction. As Bastaire &
Bastaire have remarked, non-humans had a central place in theology, in
spirituality, in rituals, and of course in art which they have almost totally
lost.[1] Nowadays,
a crisis of representation has nearly left the deity completely out of the
ritual equation. Uncertainty about adequate means to interact with these
non-humans has led many religious systems to forget their presence entirely.
The ritual may be performed without god even in mind. When the
process becomes mindless, re-presentation doesn't occur and the ritual fails.
Moreover,
ritual interactions are the most successful when both the ritual specialist and
the non-human connect personally. I don’t mean pure anthropomorphism although
the deity may take on human or animal qualia. I refer to metaphysics of
presence that function as an ontological foundation. This gift of presence is
consciousness. And it is this presence, this re-presentation, which forms part
of the fabric of social reality. Until now, we have viewed the present crisis
of representation as one distinctive, alternate swing of the pendulum between
periods in which paradigms, or totalizing theories, are relatively secure, and
periods in which paradigms lose their legitimacy and authority-when theoretical
concerns shift to problems of interpretation of the details of a reality that
eludes the ability of dominant paradigms to describe it, let alone explain it.[2]
We
have conjured a reality where non-humans exist but lack any ontological ethos.
We are quick to assert that god exists but ascribe no autonomous status to the
concept. Our interactions with non-humans are without any interaction at all.
Yet it is us that provide meaning to the deity. We imbue it with qualities and
characteristics and even a personality. We give it presence and in so doing,
renew its importance in reality. The same concept is used by quantum physicists
to describe the position and momentum of particles in the universe. These
postulated entities are defined and given meaning through the techniques used
to measure them. Like deities, they wait on us to give them an ontological
situation.
And
we have many ideas as to what makes up the qualities of our deities. Some
cultures say that god resides in caves, others in forests; for many, god is in
the sky while others suggest underground. And still others would persuade us
that god is a form of consciousness while their counterparts argue for an
entity outside of the human universe. The prevailing thought is that either god
is out there or in-here. We call this relationship
transcendence and immanence.
Transcendence
refers to our deities as being outside of human influence. God then, is beyond
anything that is other than god. This form of thought is indicative of
monotheistic religions. However, polytheistic and ‘nature-religions’ also
experience moments of grace or enlightenment characteristic of transcendence. A
transcendence deity is beyond thought, ‘above’ physical things and apart from
the world we live in. In the Kantian sense, transcendent means beyond all the
forms and categories of experience and knowledge: space and time, as well as
quantity (unity, plurality, or universality), quality (reality, negation, or
limitation), relation (substantiality, causality, or reciprocity), or modality
(possibility, actuality, or necessity). All these things are the preconditions
or presuppositions of human experience and thought. Hence to imagine creation
(causality) and creator (first cause) of the universe is only to project the
categories of human experience and reason beyond their field.[3]
On
the other hand, Immanence refers to the divinity being near or within.
In eastern orthodoxy, it is hypostases or energies of god. Immanence finds god
in this life and in the world around us. According to Joseph Campbell, the immanence
of god is in the faces, personalities, loves, and lives all around us, in our
friends, or enemies, and ourselves.[4]Furthermore,
immanence takes place in the mind and is entirely subjective. Perhaps the best
way to understand the immanence of god is in its experiential qualities. When
we experience the divine or what if feels like to be the deity.
One
is also reminded of the subject object relationship in philosophy. The
subjective immanence seems to sit in stark contrast to the transcendent object
until we realize that a unitive experiential understanding of the divine
dissolves any distinction between immanence and transcendence. Spetnak remarks
that what is emerging now is the nondualistic understanding of immanent and
transcendent long seen as opposites in western cultural history, transcendence
is coming to be understood as “beyond” but not “above” the material plane we
can see in everyday life. Our minds will never be able to map the endless
networks of what I call “relational reality”, so spirituality that seeks to
commune with either immanence or transcendence now sees that they are no apart.
This realization is not new to eastern philosophy or indigenous cultures, of course; we were
simply late coming to it in the modern west because of our dualistic and
mechanistic worldview.[5] Understanding god as both immanent and transcendent
was also proposed by Plotinus when he asserted that “we should not speak of
seeing, but instead of seen and seer, speak boldly of a simple unity for in
this seeing we neither distinguish nor are their two”.[6] And also by Flemish alchemist
Theobald de Highelande when he says that “this science transmits its work by
mixing the false with the true and the true with the false, sometimes very
briefly, at other times in a most prolix manner, without order and quite often
in the reverse order; and it endeavors to transmit the work obscurely, and to
hide it as much as possible”. [7] We understand then that the deity
and what it feels like to be the deity are one in the same. Just as
the object and subject, seer and seen, even god and man enjoy a unitive
relationship, we can expect that a rite of passage would affect the deity
equally as much as the
neophyte.
It’s
hard for many to accept this basic occult principle. The tendency is to see god
outside of ourselves or as something greater than us. We grant him
extraordinary powers and omniscience. We are taught that man is flawed or
wicked and must be separated from god. At least for now. And this separation is
the definition of hell. Our dualistic frame of mind places us,
by default, in an experience of eternal punishment by refusing to acknowledge
the one-ness or at-one-ment of god and man. This
wasn't always the case. Scotus Erigena discussed divine ignorance in the 1800s
when he stated that there is yet another kind of ignorance of god, inasmuch as
he may be said not to know what things he foreknows and predestines until they
have appeared experientially in the course of created events. [8] Just
as the initiate must undergo experientially the rite of passage that confers a
new state of consciousness, so too the deity must wait until events play out in
order to know what the ritual accomplished. Erigena goes on to say that there
is another kind of divine ignorance, in that god may be said to be ignorant of
things not yet made manifest in their effects through experience of their action
and operation; of which, nevertheless, he holds the invisible courses in
himself, by himself created, and to himself known.[9] Just
as man has nascent potentialities that must be unlocked via ritual, so too the
deity is ignorant of things not yet made manifest. A rite of
passage must unveil or bring to light aspects of himself.
Furthermore,
sometimes the rite of passage involves man awakening nascent potentialities in
the deity. Carl Jung one stated that, “For the alchemist the one primarily in
need of redemption is not man, but the deity who is lost and sleeping in matter
only as a secondary consideration does he hope that some benefit may accrue to
himself from the transformed substance as the panacea, the medicina catholica,
just as it may to the imperfect bodies, the base or “sick” metals, etc… His
attention is not directed to his own salvation through god’s grace, but to the
liberation of god from the darkness of matter”. [10]
Here man acts as initiator to the deity. Object and subject
although unitive are also autonomous entities that reveal parts of the whole to
the other. It is a paradox. Object- subject immanence-transcendence, man-god is both
unitive and separate. They are mutually exclusive yet inseparable.
This
classic example of religious of religious paradox is best seen in the idea of
light in darkness and darkness in light. When consciousness becomes unitive or
objectless, we are left with a consciousness not of anything.
It is a pure or “cosmic-consciousness”. There is nothing empirical in this
state of mind. Unitive consciousness is both something and nothing. Sometimes
it is described as there and not-there. Merleau-Ponty has remarked that this
state of being is experienced not from the depths of nothingness but
from the midst of itself.[11]
Religions
have many names and describe “cosmic-consciousness” in a myriad of ways.
Christians identify it with god. The bible calls it a “desert” or “wilderness”.
Dionysius the Areopagite stated that god is “the dazzling obscurity which
outshines all brilliance with the intensity of its darkness”. Buddhism also
recognized this paradox by labeling it the void. The Tibetan Book of the Dead
speaks of “the clear light of the void.” It is the darkness of god.
It is called darkness because all physical distinctions disappear. It is the
same as the Indian Brahman and identical to the Atman. Object-subject
distinctions simply dissolve. Therefore, we can’t say that there is a light in the
darkness because there would then be no paradox. The light is the
darkness and the darkness is the light.
Philosophers
have also identified with unitive experience brought about by metaphysics of
presence. Schopenhaur called it the ‘Will’. He stated that,
Up to now, the concept Will has
been subsumed under the concept force; but I am using it just the
opposite way, and mean that every force in nature is to be understood as a
function of Will. For at the back of the concept force there is
finally our visual knowledge of the objective world, i.e. of some phenomenon,
something seen. It is from this that the concept of force derives…whereas
the concept Will, on the contrary, is the one, among all possible
concepts, that does not derive from the observation of phenomenon, not from
mere visual knowledge, but comes from inside, emerges from the immediate
consciousness of each of us: not as a form, not even in terms of the
subject-object relationship, but as that which he himself is; for here the
knower and the known are the same.[12]
The Will then, is without empirical content. It is pure
“cosmic” unitive experience. This is not a new or radical concept. It is simply
experiential. Our metaphysics of presence is one in which personhood is granted
to the deity. In other words, there is not one deity in the mind and one in the
physical world. As Neils Bohr once remarked in terms of the Quantum,
“Theorizing should be an embodied practice, rather than a spectator sport of
matching linguistic representations to preexisting things”. [13] When
we unite object-subject, we unite matter and meaning and man and deity.
That’s not to say that the deity is solely a part of man.
Again, they are mutually exclusive yet inseparable. When we experience the
deity, we experience a corporeal or bodily component to experience. At the same
time, the object(body) gives us access to subjective or numinous experience.
And in this state, we cannot articulate the experience because we are embodied
by the deity. You could say we are possessed. Mystics are used to this idea. As
Stace remarks, “the mystic, of course, expresses thoughts about his experience
after the experience is over, and he remembers it when he is back again in his
sensory-intellectual consciousness. But there are no thoughts in the
experience itself”.[14]Philsopher
Merleau-Ponty also states that “He who sees cannot possess the visible unless
he is possessed by it, unless he is of it”.[15] Those
who possess the numinous cannot see it because they are, at that second, part
of it. They are experiencing the unitive.
This is exactly what is occurring as man and deity undergo
the rite of passage. But there is one crucial difference. Whereas man embodies
the unitive and experiences subjectively what it feels like to be the
deity, the deity itself is re-embodied. While man is
transcendent and immanent undergoing a change of consciousness, the
corresponding deity is also unitive yet because of their inherent divinity
being renewed through the ritual. Anthropologist Arnold Van Gennep identified
three stages to the rite of passage. First, the initiate is separated from his
or her group. This separation is also one in which they abandon their previous
social niche and head into the unknown. This unknown is a state of liminality.
Here the initiate is betwixt and between or without any social status at all.
It is during rites of liminality that the initiations actually occur. The rite
then culminates with the neophyte being reintegrated into society. They return
a new person with a new social role and identity.
The deity also experiences a rite of passage as the initiate
undergoes a change of consciousness. During the ROP, the deity is sent
into a liminal state and is also betwixt and between. However, this liminality is unitive or
at-one-ment. The deity cannot transcend or enlighten because they are already
transcended; they are already enlightened. There is nothing for the deity to
become for the deity has already become. The ROP is a renewal of
the numinous. In it, the deity is ‘made anew’ or ‘re-embodied.
Furthermore, a deity is both a determinate and
self-determining. As well as being able to decide their own course of action or
fate, the deity is also a fixed or distinct symbol. For example, the goddess
Demeter is a mother to Perseophone, daughter of Cronos & Rhea, and part of
the triple goddess manifestation. She is spatially identified with Greece and
the Telesterion; She is temporally identified with the Thesmophoria and the
festival of Chthonia. But Demeter is also a mystery. She is
the goddess of the harvest and responsible for the frigid winter months. When
she is renewed or re-embodied through a rite of passage, the harvest is also
renewed. Her determinate qualities are inherent and a part of her, and they too
become re-embodied through the ritual. In this way, man’s transformation that
occurs as part of the ROP also acts as a renewing agent for the
harvest and agriculture. Moreover, as his state of consciousness changes, man
renews not only the transcendent qualities of the goddess but his own immanent
determinate symbols.
[1] Bastaire & Bastaire 2004
[2] George E. Marcus and Michael M.J.
Fischer, ed. Anthropology as Cultural Critique: An Experimental Moment In
The Humans Sciences. 2nd edition. University of Chicago Press.
1999. Chicago.
[3] Joseph Campbell, The Masks of God:
Creative Mythology. Penguin Arcana. 1968. New York.
[4] Ibid pp 578
[5] Spretnak 2011
[10] Carl
Jung, Psychology and Alchemy. Trans. by R.F.C. Hull, Bollingen
Series XX, vol. 12. Pantheon Books. New York, 1968.
[11] Merleau-Ponty
1968. pp 113
[12] Schopenhaur, Die
welt als Wille und Vorstellung, II 21; Samtliche Werke, Vol. 2 pp
152-153
[13] K.
Barad, Meeting the Universe Halfway: Quantum Physics and the
Entanglement of Matter and Meaning. Durham, NC. Duke University
Press. 2007.
[14] Walter T. Stace, “Subjectivity,
Objectivity and the Self”, Religion For A New Generation 2nd edition. Ed.
Jacob Needleman, A.K. Bierman, and James A. Gould. Macmillan Publishing Co. New
York. 1977.
[15] Merleau-Ponty, The
Visible and the Invisible. A. Lingin Trans. Evanston. Northwestern
University Press. Pp134. 1968.
[16] Bruno Latour,
“Will Nonhumans be saved? An Argument in Ecotheology.” Journal of
the Royal Anthropological Institute. (N.S.) 15. pp 459-475. 2009.
Monday, December 8, 2014
Doctor Abdullah visits a Pagan Ceremony.
They say that postmodern ideas of religion have no need for
anachronistic or archaic pagan debris left by the wayside of complex religious
institutions. These old rituals died long ago and good riddance. Nowadays,
organized religion has tried to run over any alternative like a rotten piece of
road kill. We’re talking about so-called legitimate organizations of the sacred
that are overwrought with pedophile priests, crazed assertions of a one true
faith, and greedy evangelicals that live the highlife of hookers, heroin, and
hedonism. It’s a rockstar status and nobody seems to mind that these spiritual
charlatans are conducting the heavenly orchestra. Have we learned nothing from
Swaggart and Baker? Good god! These salesmen don’t even try to be pious. And most
now equate the Ten Commandments with the ten venereal diseases that rack their
holy-poisoned bodies. “Thou shalt not pick up hepatitis from the Whore of
Babylon on Lexington and 2nd street.” “Thou shalt not covet the
church leader’s wife until that harlot gets treated for gonorrhea and my rash
goes away.” And yet we fork over millions in a feeble attempt to make Jesus
happy. And why? Why my brethren do we buy our way into paradise when it can be
found in any number of ways?
I recently attended a pagan ‘full-moon ceremony’ held at a
local university. Since I’d had no real experience with pagan ideology, there
were no preconceived notions on my part. I didn’t fear being cannibalized or
chased with pitch forks. Actually a little raw fear may have intensified the
experience. After all, I was warned of the pure, unadulterated evil of the
pagan persuasion. I came to expect wild, crazed dancing and Bacchic fits. I was
fully prepared to be terrified by a torch-lit procession of anthropomorphic
lunatics chanting in unison and dragging the carcass of some poor pet-owner's
dog in their wake. I even brought my pepper-spray just in case I had to douse
somebody and make a run for it. Oh, I was warned. “They’re gonna be taking over
and burning some effigy of Jesus.” One correspondent remarked. Another witness
just hid in the bushes adjacent to the ritual and mumbled Christian
counter-curses to ward off the pagan idolatry. “They should burn!” He seethed.
“They should all burn in hell!” We can expect this kind of reaction as the
pagan movement gears up for an all-out assault on the local political scene.
Rumor has it that a neo-shaman and traveling warlock plans to usurp power from
the conservative Christian hegemony that characterizes North Utah. “We’re
afraid to leave our homes at night.” One local remarked, “The goddamn pagans
have set up shop in the canyon and [sic] doing who-knows-what in the hills up
there. I heard they eat babies and worship a goat.” The police department has
been inundated with calls about maniacal howling, a Witches Sabbath, and a
secret meeting place deep in the National Forest where pagans perform filthy
rites and speak in tongues. The zeal of the local community in castigating this
pagan tribe has reached fever pitch with the coming of the full-moon. A
demonstration in the middle of town was checkered with signs that read, ‘Save
our babies, punish the pagans!’ and ‘The only good pagan is a dead pagan!’ As I
approached the small clearing where the pagans had gathered, I must admit to a
feeling of trepidation. I could still hear the hissing of that freak in the
bushes and the night seemed electric and ready to deliver something awful and
unexpected.
As we stood in a horse-shoe pattern and read aloud the
introductory prayer, I didn't notice anything overtly heretical. We weren't
forced to trample a cross, lick anybody’s ass, or worship of bodiless head.
Seemed pretty tame. Even by my standards and I was fully prepared for some
hideous blasphemy. Or at least some screeching of the faithful sort. What I found
was basically coherent and actually quite beautiful. Amid the nervous mumbling
of the uninitiated, the comfort of those used to buying this brand of
holy-roller, and strange screaming coming from somewhere not far away, the
experience felt legitimate. I could tell by the care taken with the altar and
the honesty of those participating that the mechanisms used to
negotiate belief was apparent in the pagan experience. And although in the back
of my mind, I really wanted some terrible goddess to show up, I didn’t know if
all the players present could handle such a vicious jolt of the sacred. An
appearance of Persephone to somebody not really equipped to handle the shock
could lead to a sleepless night of anxiety or such a severe case of righteous
bewilderment that being afraid of the dark just wouldn’t seem to cover it. How
do you tell your Sunday preacher that a great and powerful goddess likes to
straddle your chest at night and whisper beautiful sweet-nothings in your ear?
That it arouses you and her scent still lingers long after she rejoins the
underworld. What do you say to that? Well, be that as it may, the pagan
experience was a kind of soft beauty. There was a calming lucidity that led to
gentle smiles and warm caresses. And towards the end, in that stillness and the
slight rustle of trees, there was a breeze and within it, the breath of a
smiling and satisfied goddess.
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Simulations & the Supernatural: How Tarot Theory & Baudrillard’s Nightmare Shed Light on the Nature of Reality. By Jack Vates
“We accept the real so readily because we sense that reality
does not exist.”- Jorge Luis Borges
Is it all an illusion? Is there truly a veil that prevents
us from correctly perceiving reality? Many occultists believe so. And they’re
not alone. Recent times have afforded a myriad of philosophers and even “pop
culture” references that question whether or not our entire world is a
fabrication. Jean Baudrillard certainly thinks so. In fact, this social
philosopher negated reality in its entirety. A groundbreaking perspective,
Baudrillard asserted that all of reality
is a simulation. He once stated that “we have passed out of the industrial
era, in which production was the dominant pattern, into a code-governed phase
where the dominant schema is simulation.”[1]
And he meant this literally. For this innovative thinker, reality directly
coincides with an apparent law of value. What he called ‘hyperreality’,or
‘floating values’, what makes up reality is an indeterminate fluctuation much
like money or power. It is significations of reality called simulacra and not
reality itself. in other words, an illusion.
“There is no longer such a thing as ideology; there are only simulacra.”
Occultists recognize this line of thought. Specifically, the tarot readers absolutely understand what Baudrillard is referring to and have been espousing this point of view for centuries. In the Trump card of the Major Arcana called the ‘Devil’, the Tarotist intuitively recognizes the bondage or ‘simulation’ of materiality. Whenever this entity turns up in a tarot spread, there is always an idea of restriction or Saturnian influence. It’s not entirely negative, it’s simply a matter of identifying the simulacra in one’s life or unconscious.
Baudrillard also came to this conclusion but described it in philosophical terms. He asserted that the unconscious relinquished its own reality principle in order to become an operational simulacrum. At the exact point where its psychic principle of reality is confused with its psychoanalytic reality principle, the unconscious becomes another simulation model.[2] But how does it work? For Baudrillard, reality is a “processual matrix”. In its most idealized form, it has a binary structure. it’s a simple questions/answer, stimulus/response format of bi-polarity that pushes us to place ‘value’ or signs of the real instead of the real itself. He states that, “It is the processual mode of the simulations that dominate us. They can be organized as an unstable play of variation, or in polyvalent or tautological modes, without endangering this central principle of bi-polarity: Digitality is, indeed, the divine form of simulation. Why does the WTC in NYC have ‘two’ towers…”[3]
Again, the Tarot reader would agree with this idea. Part of reacting to the Devil is to negate the simulation of difference. To slip the veil or chains, so to speak; To not get lost in representations. And that’s the real fear isn’t it? When our icons are substituted for an ‘Intelligible Idea’ of divinity, we are pulling taut the chains of simulation. And the overarching fear that there never was a divinity and only simulacra keeps many a Tarot enthusiast up at night.
So what is the way out? How do we see through our illusions
and end our reliance on simulacra? Baudrillard had some ideas. He suggested a
use of equal and opposite value reversals or ‘inversion’ to create a kind of
symbolic disorder to annihilate the simulation. He borrowed the concept of
‘Death’ and the ‘reversibility of death’ to breach this code. But this isn’t
death in the bodily sense. He states that “Death should never be interpreted as
an actual occurrence in a subject or body, but rather as a form, possibly a
form of social relation, where the determination of the subject and value
disappear.”[4] In
other words, utilize a process of inversion to destroy the simulation.
Again the occultist is familiar with the concept. To the tarot theorist, both Death and the Devil speak of inversions and reversals to achieve a ‘change of state’ during a liminal period. Traditionally, Death is an archetype of change. Appearance of this card suggests something is or should be exiting in favor of renewal. The Devil makes blatant use of inversion in its ideas of bondage. In fact, the Devil is portrayed on many tarot decks is a posture directly opposite to that of the Hierophant or ‘Pope’ card. The idea of an inversion of freedom or simulation is blatant in its iconography.
It’s impossible to not leave the discussion of simulation
theory without at least mentioning a very curious sentence in Baudrillard’s
essay on simulation. Did you catch it? When he states, “Digitality, is, indeed
the divine form of simulation. Why does the WTC in NYC have ‘two’
towers…”(Ibid) Reading this now has a haunting and almost prophetic feel to it.
There is something awful about it. And we all know why. There’s no sense
stating the obvious here only to say that the implications of this one sentence
is enough to send any conspiracy theorist into a fit of gleeful jabbering. What
did Baudrillard mean when he asked, ‘Why does the WTC in NYC have ‘two’
towers?’ My first impression of the remark was that the two towers represent the
concept of bi-polarity that the philosopher abhorred. But if that’s the case,
then the towers were a ‘symbol of the simulation’. And this is where the
conspiracy junkies will want to tap a vein. Because the implication is that the
attack was an attempt to end the simulation. To shock us back into reality. Of
course, the line of thought then begs us to ask: How did Al-Qaeda choose this
target? Was it simply just a symbol of the West or something more? What if the
goofy child terrorists were not even aware of their role in a real Kuhnian
paradigm shift? Or even more horribly,
what if they were given the target by someone else? It’s not hard to surmise
where the conspiracy can go from here. But it is strange though yes?
Baudrillard’s remark is more than curious. It’s scarily eerie.
Tarot does have a card that would give meaning to this scenario. Curiously, it is called the ‘Tower’. The card usually depicts the destruction of a tower by an impenetrable force. And get this, two figures are typically seen falling from the tower. They are the Pope and the King. The card is one of cataclysmic change. It is destruction; A horrifying shift in consciousness. It clearly points to revelation and revolution. Because in this card, ‘revolution is revelation’. See how easy it is now to fit the events of 9/11 in this framework? And it’s even easier to include Baudrillard’s ‘simulations’ or matrix theory into the equation. What becomes difficult is exploring how the implications could be interpreted. There is obviously somebody in the world ready to point to Al-Qaeda as potential saviors of reality; as martyrs to the simulation. But no serious occultist would suggest that Al-Qaeda was smart enough to come to this obscure philosophical argument on their own. Nor would we assert that it’s the Illuminati. The occultist position is that the event was a paradigm shift. It was the ‘Tower’ manifesting into reality. ‘Fortune’ turns and a universe persists. Al-Qaeda played a role. Like the adversary, they had a particular job but made no conscious choice or decision to be part of the larger design. They were simply used by a universe that persists.
And in regards to Baudrillard’s simulation? Occultists are
not iconoclasts. We don’t destroy but create in a literal sense. To us,
representation occurs only in the re-presenting
or re-newing of the sacred. Our
entities exist and are both determinate and self-determining. They are created
and become autonomous through the act of creation. Are they simulations? Are
they simply significations of a reality substituted for reality itself? Are we
simply deluding ourselves in a matrix illusion? I would provide a resounding no
because of the experiential nature of the occult conjuration. For a simulation
to take hold it must have time to form and be accepted by those it tries to
enslave. The trajectory of ceremonial magick forms and reforms continuously in real time. There simply isn’t enough
time for a simulation to perverse the pot. During an operation, the nature of
reality and what can be accepted is in a state of flux. Magicians speak of
doorways or gates. Aspects of numinous reality being experienced as the entity
is renewed and re-embodied by ritual. Simulation simply doesn’t enter into this
experiential numinousness. And if it could, it would be like a ‘temporary file’
or cookie on your computer hard-drive. Not possibly something that could take
hold but something deleted upon exiting the web browser or ‘ritual’. The
occultist is naturally familiar with ideas of science, cyberpunk, and
technology. But there are inherent differences that allow the occultism to
escape simulation bondage. It is these esoteric nuances that make the
conjuration such a remarkable shaper of reality.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Magus Magazine: Creating the Magick: The metaphysics of Occult tho...
Magus Magazine: Creating the Magick: The metaphysics of Occult tho...: Creating the Magick: The Metaphysics of Occult thinking. Magus Magazine: Creating the Magick: The metaphysics of Occult thought. New Blog! What is the philosophy of occult?
Creating the Magick: The metaphysics of Occult thought.
“Poor idiot! Are you so foolish as to believe
we
will openly teach you the greatest and most
important
of secrets? I assure you that anyone who
attempts
to study, according to the ordinary and literal
sense
of their words, what the Hermetic Philosophers
write,
will soon find himself in the twists of a labyrinth
from
which he will be unable to escape, having no
Ariadne’s
Thread to lead him out.”
The occult as a source of study has traversed a myriad of
philosophical schools of thought. Anthropologists and Folklorists have discussed the
implications of magic on socio-cultural and religious levels but have largely
shied away from individual agency as part of the occult process. The reason is
simple. It is much easier to infer the effect that magic and religion has on a
group rather than make speculative guesses on the causal and deterministic
motives that the ‘individual’ makes use of. That’s not to say that metaphysical
quandaries don’t have a place in occult study. On the contrary, much of what
characterizes occult discussion is based on solid metaphysical properties. For
example, Jan de Vries has remarked that, “If we view magic as an institutional
technique, it does seem that the sprinkling of water causes the rain to appear.
But the person who executed this act for the first time did not in the least
desire to apply, albeit incorrectly, the law of causality. Primitive man had
not come that far at all; He laid hold on the expedient of magic because he
found himself in one or another emergency” (176). Even if the causal factor is
refuted, the fact that causality is included in a study of magic shows the
potency of metaphysical thinking on occult study.
Even
Frazer’s work on sympathetic magic had largely causal concerns. It is no
surprise that imitative magic makes use of causation as part of their design.
For example, the desired effect of manipulating somebody’s personal hair
clippings or clothing was to produce a significant effect in their owner. A
classic cause and effect scenario. Often times, the experiential nuances of the
occult ritual are much more important to understanding occult reasoning than
causation or deterministic structure. Famous folklorist Lutz Rohrich has stated
that, “The experiential legend depicts numinous astonishment at the apparent
suspension of the natural laws of causality in external reality” (26). The
shock of witnessing the supernatural becomes an integral aspect of interpreting
the magic experience. But is this all there is to occult philosophy? Are there
other paradigms that enter into the occult way of thinking?
Whether it is demonic legends, Old Hag, or even UFO
abduction narratives, the occult disregards theories accepted in scientific
milieus yet is concerned with science. The occult wants to be legitimate. Many
occultists strive for the valid deductive argument form: If [theory +
experimental conditions + assumptions] then prediction. The problem lays in the
fact that many occult and paranormal researchers tend to affirm the
consequence of their predictions. For example, a Ufologist might
suggest that:
If a UFO, then presence of anomalous lights.
If presence of anomalous lights
Therefore, a UFO.
However, just because there are anomalous lights does not
automatically mean there is a UFO present. There obviously could be another
explanation. These invalid deductive arguments are more common in studies of
paranormal and occult than you many realize. In fact, even some aspects of
Ancient Astronaut Theory is guilty of invalid deductive form. It is known that
many aspects of AAT make use of highly complex megalithic structures to prove
the influence of extraterrestrials on early Man. They postulate that at sites
such as Puma Punku in Peru, early Man wasn’t sophisticated enough to design or
engineer such an intricate complex. Therefore, aliens must have intervened. The
argument tends to take these forms:
If
ancient aliens, then highly advanced megalithic structure.
Highly
sophisticated megalithic structure,
Therefore
ancient aliens.
Or
If
highly advanced megalithic structures, then aliens.
Aliens,
Therefore
highly advanced megalithic structures.
Although these examples may seem trivial, you can see the
complications that arise when attempting to deductively formulate a sound
occult or paranormal prediction. However, that’s not to say that the occult is
abhorrent to philosophy. On the contrary, there are other philosophical forms
that lend a great deal of credence to the occult.
I would lean towards an experiential phenomenalism that
relies on some aspects of materialism for its foundation. This theory would
postulate that behavior is based upon the phenomenal qualities or
interpretations of experience. The mind would provide input based on
experiential happenings and determine whatever output or behavior is
appropriate. Subsequently, we negotiate phenomenal qualities based upon our
perceptions of an experience. And since we are constantly experiencing, we are
constantly digesting new input that affects our behavioral output. This would
be conducive to memory as well. Past experience would necessarily effect our
interpretations of phenomenal qualities thus potentially altering our behavior.
For example, if somebody happens upon a UFO, experiential insights are going to
be produced by inferring phenomenal qualities as it happens. This
person may have never seen a UFO or indeed have no conception of what a UFO is
and yet still experience something on account of phenomenal associations.
Whether the behavior is awe, bewilderment, or terror, the experiencer’s mental
state will change and produce more mental states. The fact that the experience
and its phenomenal sensations are occurring and changing in real time as
the experience unfolds is why we see multiple behaviors manifest. (i.e.
confusion, to fear, to awe)
Much of what constitutes occult and the supernatural involve
reality and how we interpret the world around us. Whereas a realist would say
that our world is not dependent on human minds for existence, a post-realist
philosopher such as Hilary Putnam would assert that the external world is mind
and theory dependent. The world is a human construction. He states that, “There
is, then, nothing in the history of science to suggest that it either aims at
or should aim at one single absolute version of the world” (228). A relativism
concerning ontology and truth, what exists and the nature of what exists is
relative to society. As we formulate a theory in society, we construct a world.
Therefore, all versions of world-making are equally valid. It’s not hard to see
how proponents of the occult and investigators of the supernatural would find
this philosophy significant. World-making is a relativism that is community dependent.
A pertinent example can be found in the social organization of Malaysia. As
part of the social structure that permeates Malaysian culture, magic is a key
ingredient in the belief systems and solidarity of the group. Along with
socio-political and economic milieus, the magic that accompanies their
religious convictions is an integral aspect of understanding Malaysian reality.
Although the Western world largely trivializes magic as something anachronistic
or archaic pagan debris, for the Malaysians, it is accepted as part of their
everyday reality. Because as a society they make the choice to
include magical practices, it becomes true and real. As
Goodman eloquently remarks, “If we make worlds, the meaning of truth lies not
in these worlds but in ourselves—or better, in our versions and what we do with
them” (38). By utilizing a social and religious ecology to make sense of
reality, Malaysia has found what works for them as a culture.
Another mediation that occurs in occult practice and
metaphysical thought can be found in the ‘paradigm of appearances’. Paul
Feyerabend uses this ‘paradigm’ to discuss the idea of god in different
societies. He remarks that the god that is worshipped in the Abrahamic
religions (i.e. Christian, Muslim, Judaic) is ultimately the same God but
described differently. A very new-age concept, this God appears to
people in different ways but it’s a same reality. God and reality are ineffable
and determined by interpretations of appearances. For Feyerabend, reality is
pliable and we sculpt the external world. In regards to the
Greek Homeric Gods, he concluded that these otherworldly entities were
constructed in the same way that modern society constructed the idea of
electrons and protons. He remarks that, “If the entities postulated by a scientific
worldview can be assumed to exist independently of it, then why not
anthropomorphic Gods?” (34) Indeed, why not? If reality is malleable, then all
the demons, ghosts, or entities an occultist can conjure are equally valid and
real. They take an autonomous existence.
Another example where concepts of appearance and
construction can be applied is in supernatural assault narratives. Folklorists
have studied accounts of UFO abduction in terms of their morphology and
structural similarity to more traditional supernatural narratives. However,
much more work could be done with these stories using a study of ‘appearances’
and social construction. For example, for somebody who has had a first-hand UFO
abduction experience, their initial impression of the trauma is a legitimate
and more importantly, real occurrence. However, if the abductee
comes to realize that the experience was akin to a liminal rite caused by some
extenuating circumstance or personal Ordeal, then that impression is equally
valid and equally successful. Because reality is ineffable, both impressions
are a manifest reality or experiential construction of what exists.
Perhaps
what really provides ontological and epistemological credence to occult study
is the fact that it can be examined in terms of Actor-Network Theory. Latourian
ANT theory makes use of mediations to explain the many nuances that make up a
subject. According to Luckhurst, “Actor-Network Theory is the predictive
tension between the centered actor and the de-centered network, enabling the
critic to move across different scales of explanation” (8). Actor-Network lends
itself to the occult so easily because there a multitude of facets that
construct the occult. Through the use of translations, transformations, and substitutions,
the occult can be re-situated and re-embodied. In what I call the expression of movements,
the occult can be made to re-appear in a myriad of forms. These ideas are best
illustrated in an example: According to authors, Ruck, Staples, Celdran, and
Hoffman,
“A drawing of the 15th century Frater
Vincentius Koffsky, a monk of the Danzig order of preachers, depicted himself
draining the sacred blood directly from the wound of a Christ crucified as a
Tree of Life, with an alchemical oven shown as a temple in the background,
marked with the symbols for male-iron, female-copper, and an encircled dot,
which is the sign for the final goal, the elixir of drinkable gold, and also a
common motif for a mushroom cap; the oven-temple itself also resembles a cluster
of fungal caps. The inscription reads: “Now learn naturally and artfully, to
draw from this Catholic medicinal fountain of the living water and the oil of
joy” (34).
This beautifully described drawing has all the earmarks of
occult thought. For example, a quick list might include: a Frater, sacred
blood, Tree of Life, alchemy, symbol, Male/Female, entheogenics, the
inscription, the occult process. But we can calculate other movements such
as Catholicism, the fate of the Danzig preachers, the occult in the 15th century,
the fate of the drawing, the process of creating the drawing i.e. instruments
used to create, and so on. If we centralize the drawing and
construct this set of mediations around it in a network, we can use a model of
substitution and translation to glean the many meanings in the
drawing. I say multiple meanings because the drawing can be re-situated in any
number of ways based upon mediations and in doing so, take on any ontological
status. It becomes re-created infinitely and enjoys autonomous existence. The
drawing then is created and re-created just as in Feyerabend’s ‘paradigm of
appearances’ or Goodman’s world-making. It is an entity made real and given
meaning through the examination of movements and mediations.
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Magus Magazine: Mysterium Tremendum: Why we are to blame for the B...
Magus Magazine: Mysterium Tremendum: Why we are to blame for the B...: Mysterium Tremendum: Why we are to blame for the Baltic Anomaly Hello everybody, here is a version of the Baltic Anomaly philosophy art... Check out our analysis of the Baltic Anomaly! New blog!
Mysterium Tremendum: Why we are to blame for the Baltic Anomaly by Preston Copeland
Mysterium Tremendum: Why we are to blame for the Baltic
Anomaly
Hello
everybody, here is a version of the Baltic Anomaly philosophy article. It's a
bit heavy but I think you'll dig on it. Feel free to leave comments or
come say hello on Twitter and Facebook! Enjoy!!!
Mysterium Tremendum: Why we are to blame for the Baltic
Anomaly.
www.magusmagazines.comIn one way or another, we are all responsible for the Baltic
Anomaly. It’s not far-fetched or absurd to say that the world “happened” to
this underwater spectacle. Anybody with even minimal internet savvy has
probably stumbled upon the mystery and wondered, maybe in passing, what the big
deal is. Over the past couple of months, hysteria has set in as details of the
story emerge. But what we hear now isn’t the story that was reported in the
beginning of June. So what is the story? What is it about the Baltic narrative
that has led to terrible fears of extraterrestrials and government conspiracy?
Why does the public prefer a version of the supernatural rather than a pillow rock
basalt formation? These are just some of the questions that surround the Baltic
Anomaly. And the details continue to fascinate as data streams in. As the
object continues to be revealed, our knowledge of the artifact shifts as well.
It is this continuous movement that makes the Baltic Anomaly a hybrid of
assemblages.
The Baltic Anomaly is a hybrid of evidence and
our understanding of the evidence as it changes through time. Following the
lead of Bruno Latour in his study of Horse evolution (see A Textbook Case
Revisited-Knowledge as a Mode of Existence. Bruno Latour, Sciences Po Paris, a
chapter for the STS Handbook), we can orthogonally study the Anomaly’s context
of discovery and justification.
Something odd happens when we plot out the object/subject
relationships in regards to the Baltic Phenomenon. In our first intersecting
plot point, the discovery of the anomaly and the initial reaction of UFO
provide our foray into an arrangement of data and impulse interpretation. As
time moves forward, the ‘mysterious pillar’ (second plot point) is discovered
which moves the UFO theory into an ancient/lost civilization
arrangement. Although the object (evidence) and subject (what we understand of
the evidence through time) run on separate currents, their points of
intersection are where understanding of the anomaly is attempted. Through a
flow of discovery, we ontologize each version of truth. A different
world-version then comes into being at every plot point.
Furthermore, epistemic conduits aid in the anomaly
making sense. What we know through time changes as discoveries are made and
provide meaning to the new ontological status. Without giving reference
to what we know of the anomaly, it becomes impossible to discern
the reality of the object. It is what I call the ‘face on Mars’
syndrome. We all remember the face discovered on Mars in 1976. The interaction
of light and shadow created what appeared to be a humanoid face on the surface
of the planet. As the Viking spacecraft took pictures of the object, theories
came into being that suggested the face was created by an ancient Martian
civilization. This image then rippled into a network that included
crop-circles, alien architects that influenced ‘our’ early civilizations, and
utopian ideas of aliens and god. However, the pieces of the puzzle that led to
‘the face’ theory simply had to be reassembled to suggest that the image was an
illusion created through an interplay of light, shadow, and geologic formation.
For a time, ‘the face’ was real and a long lost Martian was staring back at us
from the planet. However, as the geologic nuances, light, and shadow were
re-configured into another sequence, they created another truth-version.
Is it the most accurate? Depends on who you ask. There are many that nurture
‘the face on Mars’ theory and keep it relevant and real.
This phenomenon might also be applicable to the Baltic
Anomaly. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that the object really is a
pillow rock basalt formation. And nothing more. If in our context of discovery,
we reveal that the object is nothing more than a geologic formation, then this
new ontology is given definition through conduits of meaning. What we
understand of the object through time is directly connected to its current
state of being. This is what makes the Baltic Anomaly a true hybrid. In its
status as living theory, it is both object and subject; evidence and our
understanding of that evidence. Whether it is of this earth, from the stars, or
a result of alien/human interaction, the artifact is alive and made real
through a convergence of Being and Meaning.
Truth and the factors that support each truth-version
re-embody and are dis-embodied continuously. As new information is discovered
and re-configured, taken apart and put back together, truth is shaped.
Perhaps this is why it becomes possible to move backward and forward in time on
our orthogonal diagram. As new evidence comes to light we are able to go back
to theories that were previously discarded and consider them anew. Perhaps a
discovery is made that increases the elegance of our initial UFO theory. By
breathing new life into this previous theory, we re-embody an ontology and
gauge its usefulness in the current state of affairs. Moreover, as well as
moving back to readdress previous incarnations, we can also move forward to
predict potential ontologies in the research programme. Now I’m not one to
assert the efficacy of prediction or prophesy without some form of experiment
or empirical study. However, it really doesn’t take a giant leap of faith to
infer where future plot points could appear in our orthogonal diagram. For
example, we can see that a truth-version of object and subject occurs when the
Anomaly (UFO) is discovered. At that intersection, the evidence and what we
know about the evidence produces an ontology. By looking at the surrounding
network, we can surmise future maturation and reproductive capacity. The
network would include folklore surrounding UFO visitation, supernatural assault
traditions, and perhaps even fairy-lore. Taking this surrounding network into
consideration, it’s easy to discern a future ontology or ‘plot point’ that
involves government conspiracy, and/or cover-ups because of the connections
between UFO-lore and conspiracy theory. By being able to anticipate future
ontologies, we can anticipate whether the theory is progressing or
degenerating. And although studying future intersections might be unnecessary,
they may also serve as future conduits to keep the ontology fruitful and growing.
Could it be true? Is the Baltic Anomaly a hybrid of ontology
and epistemic arrangements? Do the object and subject
continuously move into assemblages that provide an understanding of
being and reality? Following this train of thought, if we grant theories a living
status, we must also
consider that theories are eligible and even susceptible to rites of passage.
Anthropologist Arnold van Gennep did extensive work in areas of liminality and
how it pertains to transitional rites. He identified three stages that form
the rite of passage. The event begins with a separation from society or family. A period of liminality
follows as the initiate experiences the ambiguity and lack of status that
accompanies the transitional state. This period of being betwixt and between
eventually leads to a reincorporation into society as
a changed being. But how does this pertain to our discussion of the
Baltic Anomaly? I suggest that evidence and our understanding of the evidence
as it changes through time is marked by a liminal period that fills the gap
between objective knowledge and subjective experience.
As a theory grows, it either continues to mature or is
disassembled and re-configured into a new assemblage. When this happens, our ontology went
through a rite of passage. The new theory experiences a new ontological status where its
elegance, simplicity, and reproductive capacity are closely observed. As new
evidence is incorporated into ‘what we know’, again the liminal period occurs,
the theory is disassembled and reconfigured to include the new information. The
problem lays in the separation state of a rite of passage. Can we say that
object and subject i.e. evidence and ‘what we know of the evidence’ are truly
separated at any time? This is the problem Whitehead called ‘The Bifurcation of
Reality’. The bifurcation refers to a distinction between objective knowledge
and subjective experience. In other words, it is a distinguishing between
things that are able to be observed (i.e. sense-data, rocks, atoms etc…) and things
in the mind. A proponent of bifurcation would assert a difference between a
strawberry and the subjective experience of tasting a ‘delicious’ strawberry.
This idea of bifurcation isn’t acceptable when
examining evidence and our understanding of said evidence because it is the
subjective that brings into focus our Anomaly. Through the use of imagination,
inferences, and logic, meaning is ascribed to the evidence at
hand. The discovery of the “middle pillar”, the runway, and the EMF
shield knocking out anything close to the Anomaly are all epistemic
conduits that give definition to an ever-changing ontology. They help it make
sense. Moreover, they change as new data streams in. When the object/subject
disassembles, it enters into a liminal period where the plot point has
not yet ontologized but is in the process of being created .
The new theory is established when the intersection occurs
and evidence coupled with ‘what we know about the evidence’ reassembles into a
new ontology. There is no definitive ‘separation’ only a ‘disassembling’ of the
theory. The liminal state fills in the gap between the
disassembled previous ontology and the reassembling that occurs on account of
newly discovered evidence.
Throughout this article, we have been discussing the
philosophical exchanges that accompany the Baltic Anomaly. Through an
orthogonal study of object and subject, positions of networks, and dialogues
with anthropological theory, we are able to follow various ontological
versions. Because ‘our understanding of what we know’ changes continuously,
there is no real culmination or end to the ontologizing process. Creation is
never complete but always shifting and moving due to refinements in our
epistemic conduits. The variants in meaning reassemble constantly with the
emerging ontology thus making the Baltic Anomaly a hybrid of Being and Meaning.
What we discover and how we interpret these discoveries are arrangements that
create our truth-versions. So, in reality we really are to blame for the Baltic
Anomaly. If we become terrified or awe-filled it is because of the
interpretations we have ascribed to the object. In no way can we say it’s the
fault of E.T., lost civilizations, or government conspiracy. “We” happened to
the Baltic Anomaly. Whatever is conjured is our own damn fault but at least we
can look back with fresh eyes and change horror to admiration at any time. At
least there’s that.
Preston Copeland is an anthropologist and folklorist. He is a practicing Occultist and mediator of the strange and absurd. He can be reached at pcopeland@magusmagazines.com
Saturday, October 18, 2014
Actant-Network Theory & L’Histoire Des Imaginations Extravagantes de Monsieur Oufle.
PART I
I had just received my latest treasure: L’Histoire
Des Imaginations Extravagantes de Monsieur Oufle. Purchased from a
seller in the United States, I marveled at the life of this little book.
Printed in Paris circa 1700s, the ‘Histoire’ is a stunning piece of
occult literature and a beautiful work of art. “What did it say?” I wondered. I
knew it was about the occult. Perhaps a grimoire or first-person account of
supernatural happenings. I knew it had traveled far. This little book has
traveled the world since its publishing. And I imagined the many readers who
had caressed this book. “Was it a favorite?” “Who loved this book a hundred
years ago? A hundred and fifty?” I wondered at the many bookshelves it has
rested upon. And I imagined it criss-crossing the globe. I watched it form its
own net in evidence of a life lived. I opened the leather-bound cover and heard
the faint sound of a binding once again doing its job. I could smell the pages.
I glanced to the cover page and beheld the most incredible engraving I had ever
seen. How glorious! This little book was a treasure-trove! I wondered at what
it meant. How did this beautiful artwork fit into the occult themes of the
book? “What did it mean?”
It was then that I decided to study the etching. I became engrossed in
identifying what the image meant and what information is relayed. What was its
message? I wanted to know what it had to say to me. And it was at this moment
that our journey together began. A surface inspection of the engraving yields a
cacophony of the bizarre and wondrous. As I sit at my desk and run a magnifying
glass over the image, a cursory examination shows a plethora of folkloric
motifs all vying to be the focal point of the image. (See Figure 1)
In the top-left portion of the engraving, dragons or sprites can be seen
zipping through the air and gazing down at the unfolding scene below. Just adjacent
to the dragons, a horrifying abduction is taking place! Three demons or devils
have taken hold of a man and are carrying him away as he exudes some form of
ectoplasm or smoke. As the substance billows out of his mouth, he throws his
head back in dismay. Infant demons or devils seem to be created within the
smoke. Were they using his body in parasitic fashion? Are the three abductors
now taking him home to hell? Directly below the abduction, another devil
appears to be brushing a horse while a woman stands bewildered near the center
of the image. Was the abductee her lover? And were they riding a horse when
they were accosted? Her look of shock and outstretched arms imply horror at the
scene. Another horse watches the abduction as it takes place while a robust man
in the background seems to point at something further down the road. His smile
seems to indicate being privy to something neither the abductee nor his
terrified love are aware of. The woman also appears oblivious to the
gargoyle-esque apparition that sits nearby. In the foreground, a stately
gentleman seems to be witnessing the scene as it occurs. His outstretched left
hand and docile facial expression makes us wonder whether he is in trance or
enchanted in some way. Ominously, a jester holding a scepter is poised to touch
the gentleman with two fingers on the back of the neck. Interestingly, only the
jester directly breaks the fourth wall and stares directly at the viewer. What
new horror is about to befall the gentleman? Or is the jester an instrument of
awareness who will wake the man from his slumber? To the right of the pair and
in the immediate foreground, a jinn trapped in his bottle sits next to some
kind of conjuring demon. Perhaps the orchestrator of the entire episode, this
winged creature has a horrifying face and some kind of mysterious power.
Another woman stands behind the conjurer and is nearly obscured by the binding
of the book. She is robed and wears a look of complete shock. Is she a nun? Is
she the only representative of light in the entire image? The engraving is ripe
with occult themes and characters. These entities saturate the image in symbol
and allegory and serve as a perfect platform with which to study the network
and associations of occult thought.
One way to track the movements of occult is to study it in
terms of circulating reference and worldmaking. I don’t intend to rehash past
conjectures of occult thought or practice. As an anthropologist and folklorist,
I’m not required to address the ontological status of theoretical entities
portrayed on the engraving. Officially, it’s not my job to substantiate the
images as relevant non-entities or question whether they are no more than
symbolic presentations of occult themes. However, I do have a profound respect
for metaphysics and actor-network theory. Please indulge my philosophical
meanderings while we examine occult agency and the many mediations that appear
on account of its action.
In the past, any philosophical mention of the occult relied on the dichotomy of
dualism and materialism. Were occult happenings a product of the affects mind
has on the external world or was the entire phenomenon in the mind. And
when I say in the mind, I don’t mean the practitioner is delusional
but that the imagination is utilized as a tool and vehicle of perception. These
base metaphysical questions are essential to understanding the many agencies at
work in occult study but not the only avenue of research. I have chosen the
craft of etching and engraving as a platform with which to study occult and
hope to show just some of the many actors in the phenomenon.
I’m not an artist. I’ve never had any profound artistic skill nor studied Art
History in any critical way. My interest in engraving stems from my love for
the printing process. However, for purposes of this study, I was to put plate
etching in a laboratorial setting. An actor in a network, I coupled the
creation of plate etching with the engraved image to show the many
substitutions possible in occult thought. By substituting an interplay of ink,
designs, and paper into articulations of meaning, I have identified a shift
from etching to creation. This shift shows the tendency for actors
to be re-situated in their associations. Therefore, we can’t merely superimpose
the various movements onto one another, they must move and be
moved- substitutions must occur.
One possible avenue of associative research can be found in transporting the
viewer into the etching and into the etching’s creator. What was the train of
thought in the engraver when he produced furrows on the surface of the plate?
Did he imagine a process of becoming that the viewer will also
experience albeit in a purely spiritual way? As Dyson has remarked, Engravers
saw themselves as translators rather than imitators; and in an important sense
they were. [i] But
what was being translated? With the novice image barely discernible on the
plate, did our creator then dust it with resin and plate it on a Bunsen Burner?
Like an alchemist, the heat on the plate melts the resin into tiny globules
that act as a protective shield. And this is an important part I want my
readers to understand. It is the space between the globules that is
effected in ‘the bite’ of the acid. A liminal place where transformation takes
place. This is the same Ordeal that the viewer/initiate experiences when moved into
the piece. In being betwixt and between, the engraving and its viewer are both bitten
into by an agent of change. Through a succession of immersions, the
acid is a baptism by fire. A purifying catalyst for re-presentation, the plate
has changed forever. When our engraver then brushes the ink within the crevices
and sends it through the press, it is the inked image that stands to re-present
the new plate. No longer what it was, the plate has taken on a new ontological
status. An entity has come to life. Multiple immersions only serve to give
detail to this new form and it has taken on a state of viewer and initiate. In
this regards, the creator affects the image just as the image affects the
viewer. The new entity is epistemologically re-situated when the viewer is
changed or made anew by associative circumstance.
It is worth being said that charting an engraving’s production is not
necessarily structuralist. Although reducing the process into its constituent
units can be an attribute of action displacement, the entire point of
evaluating the etching is to identify where action is re-distributed or, at the
very least, to indicate where movement has occurred. Nor is
the plate a strict metaphor for the occult initiate. That would be too easy.
Indeed, the image re-presents but not in the archaic formulated way of
symbolizing something else. The engraving makes use of an ecology of action. By
reallocating its various attributes, a network is formed that distributes
action. In this circumstance, the whole is not the sum of its parts. Whether we
are talking of the chemical processes within hydrochloric acid that ‘bites
into’ the plate, or the molecular makeup of ink that allows it to adhere to
paper, these parts give substance to the entire network. So much action
circulating in a myriad of ways! And all of this must be taken into account
when we study occult thought. The connections that interlink the network make
use of all the actors whether it be the contents of the image
or the sciences involved in producing the plate.
I hear the inevitable question. “Why? Why Preston-must we give a hoot about the
mechanical and chemical processes that give rise to etching? Is it not the
image and interpretation of the image that counts?” I don’t deny the image is
important. It is one of the attributes that give meaning to a
non-entity. But by affirming the entire network that surrounds an occult
engraving, the piece becomes self-contained and autonomous. It exists
independent of the occult (in the form of art), the viewer (it doesn’t wholly
depend on symbolic systems for existence), and even its role as fetish object.
We make a distinction between the image and the engraving. One is purely
epistemic whereas the other is ontological. The former we ascribe meaning
to, the latter requires no external meaning or explanation. It is a product
of combining certain methods to create a specific object. However, manufactured
objects always have a life and fate of their own. Often times, the trajectory
or destiny of the object serves multiple purposes and functions. Such is the case
with our engraving. As well as being a beautiful work of art, the etching is
also a mediator for the occult. An inanimate object endowed with mystical
qualities, the fetish is a supernatural happening. Similar to sacred stones or
ancient Grecian curse tablets, the engraving itself is talismanic. In
principle, it wouldn’t matter what the image on the engraving was, the object
as amulet is what is important in negotiating mystical agency. Charles de
Brosses brought this into sharp focus in his Culte des dieux
fetiches (1760) in which he reexamines the etymology of the word
“fetish”, linking it to the Portuguese fetiso, “fairy thing”, in
other words, “magic spell”, “spell object.”[ii] A
contemporary of our engraving, it’s not difficult to discern the occult
attitude towards fetish objects in 18th century France.
We can take this line of thinking into occult ontology as well. If each actor
is examined in terms of its associations in the network, we are given much more
information about the movement that flows from the sum to its
parts and visa versa. Now I know the common reaction to this theory is one of
horror and shame. “You’re asking us to grant being to non-entities! You want us
to ‘really believe’ in ghosts, daimons, and aliens!” And I say, “Why not?” If
it works for electrons, protons, and quarks, why can’t it work for spiritual
entities as well. After all, do we not accept the idea of
gravity or evolution? Of course we do! And as Harpur states in regards to
non-entities, the daimons or subatomic “innerspace” are called particles,
although strictly speaking they aren’t- electrons, for example, are both
particles and waves at the same time. They are paradoxical, both there and
not-there, like fairies.[iii]
The only thing that makes me any different from a run-of-the-mill folklorist or
anthropologist is in the fact that I grant non-entities actual existence. To
me, the creation of reality and everything in it is analogous to the creation
of our etching and the occult image it contains. A contextual theory of
meaning, these theoretical terms are given substance based upon implicit
definitions of terms. Saying nothing empirical about the observable world, our
theory of the entities is neither true nor false. If again you’ll bear with me
to draw analogy to subatomic entities, the movement of an
electron can be used as a bridge gap or correspondence rule with occult
entities. As electrons move out of an atom, a wavelength of light is emitted.
There is no way to test it and it holds no reference to the observable world.
Because there is no empirical content, scientists tie it to correspondence
rules in the observable world. In this case, color lines in a spectrum. We
identify a range of wavelengths in light that are emitted by an atom. We can
perform the same procedure with occult entities. If we posit a wavelength of
light, separate dimension, or timbre of sound where these entities can be
experienced, we ascribe a bridge gap in the theory that will provide meaning.
We once again invoke Heisenberg’s ‘Uncertainty Principle’ and say that these
entities are both there and not-there.
What sets occult agencies apart and ensures a constant flow of mediations is in
the fact that it is always on the run. Not just moving, the occult has been
forced to flee not only more accepted religions but lawmakers and legislators
who perceive some nefarious agenda or conspiracy within the occult. Occult
agency moves because it must. Have you not noticed that
wherever the occult crops up in the media it always appears under the strangest
of circumstances? It’s always a surprise! Some bizarre event such as
crop-circles or ceremonial magic and “voila!” the occult is running for its
life. But what if instead to trying to find a niche to cohabitate, the occult
ran forward and deliberately into the array of entities that sought to
discredit its thoughts and practices? Would the movements burst
open and explode into a multitude of new movements and
colorful discourse? If the occultist were allowed and even encouraged to
undergo transformation, would we, for example, witness apparitions of the Holy
Virgin Mary undergo a shift from paranormal entity, to religious icon, to
anthropological informant? What would be the chain of interactions and what
kind of inertia would she generate by being transformed through agency? It’s
time we as occultists began to explore these questions as a means to better
understand the networking capability of our chosen thought forms.
[i] Dyson,
Anthony. Etching and Engraving-Technique and Tradition. Longman
Publishing, New York.1986.
[ii] Harpur,
Patrick. Daimonic Reality. Penguin Press, New York. 1995.
[iii] Ibid.
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