coming in March - the Vernal Equinox

from the Grady Project:

[previously published in Kaaba #4 (April 1979 e.v.) and in The Grady Project #1 (October 1987 e.v.)]

	ABRAHADABRA = 418
	The fact that every letter touched

by that line in the mss. adds up to 418 is enuff to SATISFY BETA, & its enuff to satisfy me...The question is, how did he DO it??? How did Crowley pull off this clever little stunt? I asked the hackers I know & they assured me that it would be extremely difficult if not impossible even to write a computer program to duplicate this feat.

	SPACE IS REAL
	My point is that gematria can be

fun. Anyone who applies the letter attributions from 777 to Liber AL vel Legis will discover this fact firsthand. The Book of the Law is crawling with cabballah...Add up EVIL, VEIL, LIVE. Add HADIT, or DEATH. Do it yourself. Read the works of Crowley's Magickal Son; C. S. Jones, Fra. Achad. Read Kenneth Grant. Go out in the streets with banners reading "We condemn the U.S. aggression against peace-loving Iraq"...

THE RITE OF JUPITER

by Bishop Mendacious

[The Temple represents the Wheel of Fortune of the Tarot. At its axle is the Altar on which sits CENTRUM IN CENTRI TRIGORNO. On the rim, SPHINX at East spoke, HERMANUBIS at North-West, TYPHON at South-West. To the West of the Wheel is the Veil.]

PART I

PROLOGUE OF THE BORED

C.I.C.T.: 1.
S.: 1.
H.: 1.
T.: 1. [Pause] Hail unto thee, thou great god Hermanubis! Art thou not the lackey dog of Jupiter?
H.: 1. Hail unto thee, thou great god Typhon! Art thou not the harbinger of his gnarliness?
T.: Hail unto thee, thou that hast the secret of Jupiter!
[Pause. S. stares blankly.]
H.: Hail unto thee, thou that hast the secret of Jupiter!
[Pause. T. and H. clear their throats.]
S.: [Startled] Oh! Hail! Uh...how's it goin'? [Smiles embarassedly]
T.: Brother Hermanubis, what are we doing here?
H.: Biding time till the girls show up.
T.: Brother Hermanubis, to what end?
H.: That the rite might not be over in fifteen minutes.
T.: Brother Hermanubis, why are we talking this way?
H.: Brother Typhon, I believe this to be a form of dialogue carried over from Masonic rituals so that the mysteries might remain intact even if performed for centuries by no one but brain dead morons.
T.: [To S.] Oracle of the Gods, are we nothing but brain dead morons?
[No answer]
T.: Brother Hermanubis, the Oracle is silent.
H.: Or perhaps she has just forgotten her lines.
T.: It is well.
H.: [Sighs]
C.I.C.T.: 1-333.
T.: Brother Hermanubis, this is of evil omen.
H.: Brother Typhon, this is indeed of evil omen. It appears that God is going to recite a poem.
C.I.C.T.: [More insistently] 1-333.
T: Not again.
C.I.C.T.: [Clearing his throat impatiently]
    I am the great god Jupiter, who loves to drink and party,
    Who fills the halls of Olympus with laughter great and hearty.
    The cycles that you face in life are just the way I wrote 'em,
    And if you don't believe in me, I'll kick you in the scrotum.
[Pause]
H.: Brother Typhon, at least it was brief.
T.: And yet, it was particularly awful.
H.: We can't go on like this.
H. and T.: [Together] Mother of Mystery!
S.: Yo!
H.: We beseech thee to bear our petition to the center of the wheel.
S.: What is your will?
H.: That perhaps he should develop an outside interest.
T.: Maybe he could go home to Mom.
H.: In short---
H. and T.: ---Get a life!
S.: [Shocked] Hast thou no respect for the Gods?
H.: If we had respect for the Gods, we'd all be Episcopalians.
T.: And the three of us would now be playing the Three Kings of Orient in some hokey Christmas musical.
S.: I see your point. [Makes prepatory motions, like cracking knuckles, etc.]
    O Father of the Gods!
    Thou Big Daddy of the Stars!
    Thou totally awesome one of roundness and bigness,
    Thou endless fount of Truth, Justice, and the American Way,
    Who, rolling down the river, doth distill music in our hearts
    To chase them naughty blues away:
    Aiko! Aiko! Boop-boop-be-doop! Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!
    It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing!
    Zip-a-dee-doo-dah-day!
    O Mightiness! O Endlessness! O ---
C.I.C.T.: [Annoyed] --- What?!
S.: [Startled] Oh! Hail! Uh...how's it goin'? [Smiles embarassedly, again.]
C.I.C.T.: Listen. I've been eminating you bozos since before the beginning of eternity. Whatever that means. Anyway, I know you too well to believe that you'd go through all this invocation rigamerole just to talk about the weather. So spill! What's on your mind?
S.: Only service to you, Lord.
C.I.C.T.: This, I'm supposed to believe.
S.: It just occurred to us out here on the periphery, that given the pressures of your position, I mean, having omniscience all through the day, being one with all of creation, yet transcendent to it, being pure Being-Consciousness- Bliss and all...
C.I.C.T.: Yes?!
S.: Have you ever considered taking up a hobby?
C.I.C.T.: In case you've forgotten, O Epiglotis of the Eternal, you three are + my hobbies!
S.: Oh!
T.: Shit!
H.: That's right!
C.I.C.T.: That reminds me of a poem...
When the chill of earth black-breasted is uplifted at the glance ---
T.: --- Oh that the banquet of Jupiter might begin!
C.I.C.T.: [Glares, then continues.]
Of the red sun million-crested, and the forest blossoms dance ---
H.: --- Oh, that the banquet of Jupiter might begin!
C.I.C.T.: [Clears his throat and resumes.]
With the light that stirs and lustres of the dawn, and with the bloom ---
[All three grab pillows and pummel C.I.C.T. off his throne.]
H., T., and S.: --- Oh that the banquet of Jupiter might begin!
C.I.C.T.: Let the banquet of Jupiter begin.

PART II

THE BANQUET

PART III

THE GUNA SQUAD

[After the banquet the wheel is cleared, and only T. remains in his place. Enter ALICE.]
A.: Excuse me, have you seen a large white rabbit with a pocket watch go by?
T.: No, my dear, your pretty face is the only one I've seen in quite a while. Please, sit with me here. It's a lovely place to catch the view.
A.: No, really, I'm in a hurry ---
T.: Nonsense! Pull up a tuffet and make yourself comfortable. [A. sits.] That's better. What's the use of being in such a rush?
A.: But I'm lost, and Mum will worry if I'm late for dinner.
T.: You may have been lost before, but I've found you now, so how can you be lost and found at the same time? You're right here, my dear! And as for dinner, [raises two glasses, handing one to A.] why don't we start with some wine?
A.: Ooh! Aren't I a little too young for wine? T.: What? Perhaps one can be too old for wine, but never too young. Savor it
while you're fresh, don't you see? Here, mix wine with breath, look. [He tastes luxuriously.] Now you try.
A.: [She sips.] Ooh! [Flustered] I feel quite warm all of a sudden.
T.: Nice though, isn't it? It's one of my favorite pastimes, to come out here, drinking wine and savoring the changing light.
A.: [Sipping again and looking around as if for the first time] Why, it is lovely! You know, I think I might stay here for a while.
[Bell chimes.]
T.: Pardon me for a moment, will you?
A.: What? No, don't go ---
T.: I'll be back soon, I promise. Just wait here. Watch the sunset along the hills, it'll be a treat. [Exits.]
A.: It's true...I don't know if I've ever seen such a splendid sky. [Sips.] With all the running around I've been doing, it's as if I had forgotten how to enjoy myself. [She stretches, looks at ground.] What beautiful flowers! So many colors and shapes...How very lucky I am to have found this place. And my new friend. He seems so nice. [Sips.] I wonder... [Picks a flower, then skips around, singing.] He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me...he loves me not. [Throws flower.] Stupid old flower! Who believes in those things anyway? I am going to stay here! This is so much better than back home, [starts calmly, then gradually gets angrier] with boring lessons, and bullying boys and stuck up sister and yelling mom and daddy never having time and me being left alone all the time, always alone! [Pause] Just like I'm being left alone right now! Where is he?! He seemed so nice, right! All of his nice talk, "I'll be back soon." So what happened? He lied to me! That sneak! He's probably off somewhere saying those same things to another little girl! And when I think that I almost cared for him ---
[T. re-appears as wolf. He roars and tries to catch A., who runs away screaming. Lights out. Lights back up with only H. in his place. A. comes up to him panting.]
A.: Help me! I'm being chased by a ferocious wolf!
H.: Stop.
A.: What?
H.: Look around you. [A. does so.] Do you still see a wolf?
A.: No. But he was chasing me, you should have seen him ---
H.: But he is not here now?
A.: No.
H.: Then you aren't doing yourself a favor by getting excited about it.
A.: You're right, but ---
H.: It sounds as if you've allowed yourself to become somewhat unsettled. If you wish, you may rest here. It may help you regain your perspective.
A.: I am tired, thank you. [She sits.] I don't know, everything seemed so fine for a while, and then...something happened, and now I feel terrible.
H.: Just a moment. Sometimes, if we are overly preoccupied with our whims and fancies, they can crowd out everything else, so that soon our problems seem more real then the world around us.
A.: What do you mean?
H.: This particular episode in your life is only one of a great many that you will have. And your life is also one of many. And ultimately, what is all life compared to the vastness of the cosmos?
A.: Well, yes, when you put it that way...But when I am troubled, or even when I am having fun, my own situation seems bigger than the whole universe.
H.: It doesn't have to be, with practice. Here, take this pen and this book.
A.: Ooh, thank you. What book is it?
H.: This is your book. It is empty until you use it. Write down all your moments. Make a record, then review it constantly. In this way, all of your temporary selves become known to one another. Emotional tides begin to lose their solidity and compelling power. Patterns may be recognized. A.: [Gaining enthusiasm.] Because the information in each of these situations,
which usually disappears rapidly with the passage of time, instead becomes accessible at all times, enabling me to perceive underlying similarities in seemingly different events.
H.: I think you see my point. Greater clarity is, in a sense, greater freedom.
A.: And so much seems clear to me now that before was obscure. I would like to stay here until I can become fully grounded in this new clarity.
[Bell chimes.]
H.: I must go for a little while.
A.: Must you? It was just getting interesting!
H.: I imagine that you'll have plenty to think of for a time. I will return. [Exits.]
A.: I've said it before, and I'll say it again --- people come and go so quickly here! [Opens book.] Where shall I begin? Maybe I should first write down my memories? But how accurate are they? They will at best be combinations of the past event filtered through my perceptions at the time I'm writing. Maybe I should begin by describing my surroundings now. But I still have no way of independently verifying my sense impression. I therefore have no way of knowing if what I see is real. Even as certain as logic and mathematics seem, they could as easily be the limits of my mental processes as immutable laws of nature. Dear me! What have I got left to rely on? There is at least my own existence. Even in the absence of sensory data, I can't imagine that I don't exist. [Begins to get nervous.] But...is that because it's impossible, or because I won't consider it? Strange! The mind seems to recoil at the thought, yet how can I be certain? Perhaps this infallible rock of mine --- my selfhood ---is only an appearance generated by a defense against the acceptance of nothingness. As this possibility --- this void --- looms before my mind, I feel all of life's meaning and purpose go flat as if it has just been a shadow play all along. Emptiness... Emptiness... What shelter do I have now? What certainty? That precious clarity! When will it ever return?
H.: [Enters dressed as raven, laughing maniacally.] Nevermore! [H. attacks A. with beak. A. flees. Lights down. Lights back up with only S. in her place. A. approaches reluctantly.]
A.: Excuse me, I've got to find a way to go far away from here --- I've got a couple of monsters chasing me. Can you help me?
S.: I can neither help nor hinder you.
A.: What?
S.: The need to find solutions is an outgrowth of the need to have problems. You are not that one who wins or loses, who is secure or is in danger.
A.: I've already tried to analyze myself, and it only made me depressed.
S.: If you are attached to analysis, you will become the victim of analysis, even as clinging to emotion leads to emotion clinging on to you.
A.: So what is the answer?
S.: The reflection of the question.
A.: Auggh!
S.: Here, take these beads. [A. does so.] Now, sit with your back straight but not stiff, let go of your mind, and lightly place the attention on the breath. [Pause.] Let the breathing do itself. [Pause.] Now, for each breath, let your fingers count one bead. [Pause.] Watch emotion rise, then let them go. [Pause.] Watch thoughts rise, then let them go.
A.: Attention on the breath...Attention on the breath...Maybe this will help...Wait! Just let thoughts go...Even if this works, I'm not gonna say I'll stay here for very long...Attention on the breath...Attention on the breath.
[Bell chimes. S. exits. A. meditates in relative silence, occasionally saying something out loud that enters her mind, then reminding herself. After a time, S. re-enters dressed as the Lamb of God, complete with the flag of St. Michael. A. opens her eyes wide at the entrance.]
A.: The Lamb of God! I knew it was you all along. I accept you into my heart, as my personal savior. [She falls to her knees.] And I will stay with you forever. [Wraps her arms around the knees of S.] S.: [Pulls out triangle and clapper, then rings furiously.] Come an' git it!
[T. and H., as wolf and raven, enter laughing, growling, and smacking lips. They drag A. off, who screams somewhat, then from offstage, they throw out suggestive remnants: blood-stained clothes, a gnawed turkey leg bone, etc. A. makes intermittent pathetic sounds while her murderers make sounds of having a wonderful barbaric time.]
S.: I am the greatest of the deceivers, for my purity and innocence shall seduce the pure and innocent, who but for me would come to the centre of the wheel. The wolf betrayeth only the greedy and the treacherous; the raven betrayeth only the melancholy and the dishonest. But I am he of whom it is written: He shall deceive the very elect.

As first performed, C.I.C.T. sang the Donovan song, "Happiness Runs in a Circular Motion" over the dying screams of the child Alice, then warmed to a rousing rendition of "There is Nothing Like a Dame" from South Pacific, after which the Maenads entered and the Rite proceeded as in the original script.

Events Calendar for February 1991 e.v.

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