Thelema Lodge Calendar for February 2002 e.v.

Thelema Lodge Calendar

for February 2002 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, 2001 e.v.

Thelema Lodge
Ordo Templi Orientis
P.O.Box 2303
Berkeley, CA 94702 USA

February 2002 e.v. at Thelema Lodge

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.

Announcements from
Lodge Members and Officers

Wisdom of the Winter

See forest bare and gaunt,
Where winged whispers haunt,
Lighting the dull sky with a slumberous glow;
Hear the strange sounds of winter chaunt;
Feel the keen wisdom of the winter thrill
Young hearts with passionate foretaste
Of death in some wild waste
Of deserts darkening at some wild god's will,
Of frozen steeps awaiting the repose
That only death discovers, never sleep.

   -- Aleister Crowley, "Winter" (1907 e.v.)

A Scarlet Valentine

    It is his whole life that the Magus offers to OUR LADY. The Cross is both Death and Generation, and it is on the Cross that the Rose blooms. . . . Of the preservation of this blood which OUR LADY offers to the ANCIENT ONE, CHAOS the All-Father, to revive him, and of how his divine Essence fills the Daughter (the Soul of Man) and places her upon the Throne of the Mother, fulfilling the Economy of the Universe and thus ultimately rewarding the Magician (the Son) ten thousandfold .  .  .  . is the Arcanum of the Masters of the Temple, that .  .  . is here hinted at in order to . . . lighten the darkness of such as may be requiring only one ray of the Sun in order to spring into life and light
    -- "The Formula of the Holy Graal," MTP, ch. VII.

    The accompanying photograph reproduces an original framed print dated 1914 e.v., sold by a studio named Kaloma, probably in New Orleans. A private collector who owns the photo offered to let us feature it here, in hopes that he might hear from anyone interested in buying this lovely and quite valuable work of antique photographic art from him. (The owner, Larry Barber of Fresno, may be contacted by mail through the lodgemaster.) The subject has been identified to him as one of Aleister Crowley's Scarlet Women, and although he first assumed her to be Rose Kelly, she appears to resemble Leila Waddell more closely. Both of these women were perhaps too old to have been this model; Rose was 40 in 1914 e.v., and at any rate is never known to have visited the US; Leila Waddell was 36 and spent the autumn of 1914 in Manhattan with Crowley. It could be that this is some lady of New Orleans with an authentic -- although more brief -- association with the Beast; Crowley spent some weeks alone there in 1916 e.v. living on Dauphine Street, writing Moonchild and Simon Iff and sampling the famous absinthe and (no doubt) the famous prostitutes of the neighborhood. Whoever she may have been, the image she left to us shows her forth beautifully as the Lady. Giver and receiver of joy, gate of life and love, be thou ever ready, thou and thine handmaiden, in thine office of gladness.

Renew the Flow

    GR:Pi-alpha-nu-tau-alpha rho-epsilon-iota -- everything flows -- Pan moves everywhere. In the dark times of the year the process sometimes slows down so much we can nearly watch it happen. The lodge has been quite a busy place this season, and especially busy with mops and brushes as we renew our temple space to accommodate the beautiful new altar which we consecrated over the vulgar new year. New plaster and paint and a new veil are our current projects in Horus Temple, with several weeks of work still to come. Each Sunday we scrape it all back into shape again for celebration of the mass, but if the corners feel slightly gritty or the trim is still missing around the window, keep in mind that things will probably seem quite different in another week. The gnostic mass of Ecclesia Gnostica Catholica is celebrated each Sunday evening in Horus Temple at Thelema Lodge, with all participants requested to arrive by 7:30 to await the deacon's call for entry into the temple shortly thereafter. Call the lodgemaster well ahead of time for directions to the temple if you have never taken the sacrament here before. Members studying the canon of the mass and considering a date on the temple schedule to serve the lodge in this celebration (together with a well rehearsed team of officers) are invited to confer with the lodgemaster as their plans progress.
    Imbolg is the elemental "cross-quarter" holiday on which we celebrate the Thelemic Feast of Brigid as Sol achieves the mid-point of Aquarius on Sunday afternoon 3rd February. Members and friends of the lodge will gather at Cheth House in the Berkeley hills for our Brigid ritual beginning at 3:30, with a mid-winter feast to follow in time for all of us to get back across town to Horus Temple for the gnostic mass. Bring good food and drink to share, and call Kat and Michael ahead at (510) 525-0666 to help plan the meal or assist with the event, or if you need directions to Cheth House. The festival of Brigid celebrates a quickening in the flow, a renewed gushing at the source of life, an awakening glow in the secret center of the being of all. Join us in the circle to welcome back the light of the year together. GR:Pi-alpha-nu-tau-alpha  chi-omega-rho-epsilon-iota,  omicron-upsilon-delta-epsilon-nu mu-epsilon-nu-epsilon-iota -- everything flows and nothing stays (so Plato quotes Heraclitus in the Cratylus).

The Life that Abideth in Light

    In non-E.G.C. Catholic traditions, the celebration of Candlemas marks the dual feast of the Purification of the Virgin and the Presentation in the Temple. Frater Bromios and Soror Marfiza welcome all to see and participate in a translation of this feast into the Thelemic ethos, on Friday evening 1st February at 8:00 at Grace North Church, 2138 Cedar Street in Berkeley. For more details call (510) 534-5739.

Straight Arrow and Spiral Path

    GR:Iota-omicron  Pi-alpha-nu! Upon the summits the God-goat
          Leaps in wild lust of ecstasy afloat!
    This month the Book of Thoth study group plunges into the mysteries of Atu XIV and XV, Art and the Devil. Bring along your copy of Crowley's last major literary work, and curl up in the lodge library on Thursday evening 28th February for a fine evening of tea, tasty snacks, and discussion of these two cards, which describe the continuation of ideas in the Tarot. Art, or trump XIV, "represents the Consummation of the Royal Marriage which took place in Atu VI," the Lovers. "To sum up," Crowley writes of Art, "the whole of this card represents the hidden content of the Egg described in Atu VI. It is the same formula, but in a more advanced stage." Similarly Atu XV, the Devil, is in some sense a culmination of the ideas presented in Atu 0, the Fool. "The Fool is also evidently an aspect of Pan; but this idea is shewn in his fullest development by Atu XV, whose letter is the semi-vowel 'Ayin, cognate with Aleph." The interconnectedness of the various trumps in the Tarot has been a recurrent theme in our study of Crowley's profound explication in The Book of Thoth. It is in this sense that the Tarot can point out the simplification of knowledge that occurs within the rational space of our discourse. A last morsel for thought on this subject might be to consider the cabalistic enumeration of the Hebrew letter Samekh, which is represented by the Art trump. The name of this letter adds up to 120, the same as for the Hebrew word kesil, or "fool," (cf. Godwin's Cabalistic Encyclopedia for an entry not included in Sepher Sephiroth) which as previously mentioned finds its "fullest development in Atu XV," the Devil.

Professor of Love's Wanton Art

    Ovid, a leading Roman poet during the reign of Augustus Caesar, who died in exile partly because the emperor took offense at his subversively erotic verse, was never a favorite of Aleister Crowley. Unmentioned in Section Two of the A A reading list, or even in the Artemis Iota catalogue of erotic classics, Ovid is never quoted and rarely even mentioned in Crowley's writings. The fact that Crowley shows no sign of having studied his works seems slightly odd to us, but is most likely due to an accident of history. Ovid, the favorite classical poet of both Chaucer and Shakespeare, had ranked alongside Virgil in his influence upon the European middle ages and the Renaissance, but gradually yielded place to Horace in the eighteenth century, so that by the period of Crowley's education he had been out of style for over a century, and had nearly disappeared from scholarship, ignored by all but a few mythographers. After the pronounced rebirth of interest during the past century in Ovid's poetry, and because of the close scrutiny his works give to erotic enthusiasm and its operations, he has come to seem an obvious choice for our reading group, despite Crowley's having missed him. At any rate he is easily justified as an addition by the generalized recommendation of "Greek and Latin Classics" at the end of the reading list. The "Section Two" reading group meets at Thelema Lodge on Monday evening 18th February for a review of Ovid's poetic sex manuals and erotic elegies, the Ars Amatoria and the Amores. Join Caitlin in the lodge library from 8:00 until 9:30 for an introduction to the erotic culture of early imperial ROMA, whose secret name was spelled AMOR.
    Publius Ovidius Naso (43 b.c.e. to 17 c.e.) was a younger contemporary of Virgil and Horace, who after their passing became Rome's most celebrated poet. A popular and versatile master of the literary arts, his career was abruptly terminated during the eighth year of the common era when he was suddenly banished by the emperor to a remote uncultured outpost on the Black Sea. He continued to write in exile, explaining that his punishment had come about both because of his carmen (poems) and because of an accidental error (indiscretion), each of which had embarrassed the emperor. The offending poems were his frank and clever collections of erotic verse, the love elegies, The Art of Love, and the satiric Remedies for Love. The details of Ovid's error, the specific occasion for his disgrace (since his explicit writings had been in circulation since at least the year 2 c.e.) were successfully suppressed, but from some hints in his later poetry it has been assumed that Ovid had the misfortune to be present on an occasion when either the emperor himself or one of his immediate family was caught in some disgraceful debauch. Augustus made a hypocritical show of strict sexual manners in order to hide the failures and extravagances of the imperial bedrooms, and had grown to hate Ovid for his frank and playful discussions of such subjects.
    Certainly as worthy to be invoked by us into the sanctuary of the gnosis -- along with Saint Catullus and Saint Vergilius -- as the later, meaner, and cruder Roman poet Saint Martialis, Ovid may be seen as one of the earliest victims of the Aeon of the Black God, for the false modesty and obfuscating shame established in those dishonest public manners which Augustus enforced against him did more to stifle and pervert the vital impulse of mankind than any teaching attributed to the messianic radical fringe (as represented in the later "gospel" accounts). Ovid celebrated the divine force of Eros as a primal archon of the universal order, and took as his subject the private management of this power in the individual sexual lives of men and women, gods and goddesses. He might be considered not just the Oscar Wilde of his age (for his mastery of word-play, his liberating humor, and his suffering as a scapegoat), but also its D. H. Lawrence (for his realistic attention to sex, and his insistence upon its sanctity, and his courage in presenting it); both the cultivated showman and the passionate priest of Love.

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Crowley Classics

   One of the rarest volumes in Crowley's bibliography contains this little parody of a royal commemorative poem, which was printed as a joke by the Parisian publisher Renouard in 1906 e.v. When the print run was shipped to England for sale it was identified as insincere by customs inspectors, and so confiscated and entirely destroyed. A couple of proof copies were all that survived of the entire edition, from which several reprintings of the poem have been prepared over the past ten years. In the tradition which Crowley is mocking here, worshipful but unsophisticated verses in honor of the British royal family have been a staple of English newspapers for over three hundred years, and continue to be seen today. Although many major poets also wrote verses of this sort (with Dryden, Pope, Wordsworth, and Tennyson perhaps most notable), hundreds of wretched examples by utterly unskilled poets of various degrees of pretension have been submitted for local publication, printed in a spirit of loyalty, and read uncritically by gushing subjects over their morning porridge. A beautiful Danish princess who was the queen-consort of King Edward VII, Alexandra (1844-1925) was the mother of King George V.


by Aleister Crowley

ALEXANDRA: A Birthday Ode

suggested by Abbey's masterpiece
in the Academy of 1904
being the Watkin Tower of English literature
(vice Kubla Khan and Hyperion retired hurt)

the unfinished or mutilated (or both)
of Mr Alfred Austin, Mr Owen Seaman,
or A. N. Other

rescued from the flames
and copied fair, transcribed, edited,
annotated, arranged, printed, published
OPHELIA COX (née McHunt)
and DIAPER of the Woman's Monthly


Five Dollars.

Editorial Note [1906]
Pleesm! said my -- Diaper's, not Mrs Cox's -- sloppy slavey one brilliant November morning of last year, as the orangegold clouds of deliciously perfumed mist stole, in spite of the Eighth commandment, down my chimney in Fleet Street (of course Diaper does not live in a chimney, she has a deevie flat here and the flat has a chimney, two chimneys, in fact -- O. C.) myav thister litafir?
    Woman! I replied sternly, whence came it? My practiced eye had already detected the indescribable cachet of a treasure trove -- bene trovato, sin non veri similitudo! as the immortal Mantuan bardic anarch hath it -- ah! dear, dear old Dante! Dunnom! -- Oyussm! with a vivid blush through her smuts. (Euphemia knows that she cannot hope to deceive me. What is my secret? A simple one: I always believe the worst; once in a thousand times I may be wrong, and it is only the next worst, but no matter.)
    Without prolonging the agony, I may say that it shortly transpired that Euphemia Bugg -- such is her name -- has for years been the adored (Platonic if not Aristotelian) mistress of a distinguished litterateur, whom I have been able with difficulty (the maid is modest, as one would expect from the No. 1 belle dame of either of these cicisbeos), with one of the gentlemen whose name is on our title page. The student of style will be able to make his or her choice.
    All we care about is that he or she should pay his or her money.
    It is at least certainly not a posthumous work of Walter Pater or John Aldington Symonds: only a crapulous mountebank would credit W. B. Yeats or Robert Bridges with it. The only question is: Did not perhaps the late Lord Tennyson foresee events, and leave it to be published when the right time came? But in this case, how account for Euphemia's possession of the dainty thing? Anyway, it's not Tennyson; don't worry: I was only teasing.
    She had originally picked up the unfinished MS. to use as curl-papers. It was indeed written, as will be obvious from the style, on sheets of thinnest softest (and I believe sterilized) paper of a delicate and pleasing pale canary colour; mullioned at the shorter edges like a postage stamp.
    These she had placed on my mantlepiece for pipe-spills, and forgotten about them.
    It is my pride and privilege through my old and esteemed concoeur, as I suppose I may say for the lady of confrère, to give the providentially rescued masterpiece, alas! too incomplete! to the World of Society, though even the humblest may enjoy (A navvy, when they were repairing the street, whom I asked up to taste my delicious T. -- I think the abbreviation is so clever, don't you -- and to whom I had read it, said: "B---y good, miss, b---y good." A simple heartfelt tribute from the People.)
    Alas! too incomplete. But something as least is saved -- honour, which if you remember was all Sir George got out of King Francis' great lion at the battle of Pavium -- you have read Mrs Browning's scrumptious poemlet, of course.
    "Diaper" will at least avoid the Infernum proscribed for John Stuart Mill, Newton's dog, and Mr Warburton's housemaid. Nunquam plaudite!

Introductory Pindaric Ode

by O. C.

Alexandra! Alexandra!
Lege! non ero Cassandra.
Ego scribam quae me decet;
Xenophon non nimus fecit.
Alexandra! Alexandra!
Non ero mala Cassandra.
De te poetam, fac, ver, me!
Regne! Vive! Ama! Germe!
Alexandra! me inerme!

Regne! Ama! Germe! Vive!
Ex ad te it cupido cive.
Gratiam Deo demus mutuam
In cubili si te futuam.
Non ero mala Cassandra,
Alexandra! Alexandra!

Translation by Mr A. B. Waulkphast. Alexandra! Alexandra! Read! I will not be a Cassandra i.e. a prophetess of evil). I will write those things which become me: Xenophon (an ancient writer -- ah! did you once see Shelley plain? in his extant masterpiece) did no more. Alexandra! Alexandra! I will not be a bad Cassandra (i.e. a seer of future misfortunes). O spring! make me a poet (poetess) concerning thee! Reign! Live! Love! Be fruitful! Alexandra! I being unarmed (because Mrs Cox is a woman; cf. Voltaire: "O che sciagura essere sincog!") Reign! Love! Be fruitful! Live! Out of the citizen desire goes to thee. We will give grateful mutual thanks to God if I shall (I do not know what futuam can mean. (Look up your Latin Dic., though I admit it is an unusual word in this connection, and may seem unjustifiable to those who have not seen my cl----. O. C. (MS. illegible -- Printer))) thee in bed. I will not be a bad Cassandra (i.e. a prognosticatress of calamity). Alexandra! Alexandra!

    (Mrs Cox's Latinity is sometimes not quite up to Fleet Street: and these lines are decidedly not regular hexameters: Professor Jibb, to whom I submitted the point, was quite at one with me upon it, after a few days' consideration. But the acrostic is beautifully carried out: and the sentiment is throughout loyal, enthusiastic, generous, delicate, forceful, noble, svelte, admirable, delicate, reverently amorous, respectfully familiar (Mrs Cox is in the very best set at Shanghai) and as I have elsewhere observed, above all, delicate.
    In particular the male vigour of lines 11-13 is all her own: there is nothing like it in Sappho, at least in those of her works that I have hitherto had the glorious privilege of perusing. It is, by the way, my favorite pastime when I have, as we say in Fleet Street, the "blunt" to go down to Marlow of Maidenhead in a punt, and there lie in some shady favorite backwater with my favorite girl friend in front. What a thing friendship is, world without end! and my favorite old black briar between my lips, and her sweet face fixed on my old favorite thumb-worn copy of Sappho, and pore over the deevie pages, hour after hour, bound by the Woman's Guild. No! Sappho has nothing like this in all her scroll of gorgeous rhyme.

Rosie Brooks. (Diaper.)


The sixty summers that have rolled away
     Since first thy fame by bard and sage was sung
Leave thee to England and to us today
         Still fair and young.

I saw thee limned in all the robes and pearls,
       Diamonds and ermine that proclaim thee queen
Thou wast (or I know nothing about girls)
         Barely eighteen.
Canceled passage: verse III:
"Will not some hero, loyal, lean, and true,"
     (Men fainting cried) "the accursed chromo take?"
The nation took the chromo, queen, and you,
     You took the cake.

* * *

Thy royal Edward's undivided love
     Hath been thy lifelong privilege, 'tis true;
Still is he not, though us so far above
         Our Edward too?

* * *

Why did the heathen Hindoo's loyal roar
       Acclaim that dream brighter than bard e'er dreamt
Clearly refers to the late Duke of Clarence and Avondale.
         He worshipped thee . . .
Suggested restoration by Dr Verrall and Brugsch Bey:
. . . and made allowance for
         A first attempt.
. . . . . .

'Twas not thy George's viking frame that set
     Australia cheering: but their souls surmise
The God within his magian deeply-set
         Mysterious eyes
v. 1. . . . his Hoffmann's violet / Aniline eyes.

* * *

Those with thy smile encouraged all the sages
v. 1. You with your smile . . . with that smile,
v. 1. encouragedst.
v. 1. all the savants . . . in their trappy caverns. / . . . all the magi . . . (Oh, anthropophagi)
    Who strove to alleviate man's bitter lot
v. 1. to 'meliorate.
It is an open secret that the late Herbert Spencer was solely inspired in his laborious labours by a desire to gratify his august though bewitching sovereign. It is related that in his early days as a student Her Majesty was visiting the school where he studied. "What are you doing, Herbert?" asked the beautiful but insouciant girl, as she then, as she now is, was. "Studying philosophy, miss!" was the brusque yet courtly reply. "Why study it? Rather synthesize it!" observed the thoughtful though dazzling monarch. "I will, miss!" cried the youth, the flash of genius leaping to his eyes. And as we all know, he kept his word.
Thou saved the pigeons in their trappy cages
v. 1. You saved, . . . savedst.
        From being shot.
It is said that on the occasion of an important shooting match at Hurlingham, in which the Prince of Wales was to take part, Queen Alexandria in full regalia rushed between No. 3 trap and the 24-yard mark, and, in noble imitation of the Empress Agrippina, smote herself in the region of the uterus and cried "Strike here!" From that moment the doom of pigeon-shooting (save the mark!) at least in England, ever leader of humanitarian exacerbation, was sealed.

Marriage declines (our sobbing statesmen own)
v. 1. . . . our statisticians own . . . our J. Holt Schoolings.
    The birthrate shows mysterious decay:
'Tis that each loyal bosom knows alone
      Thy single sway.

Maidens and wives take tribute of our days:
v. 1. Maids, matrons, mots . . .
    We  love  them  (nous  leur  jurons  nos  grands  dieux!)
'Tis but (in von Krafft-Ebling's pregnant phrase)
         Faute de mieux.

With wives and sweethearts for awhile we dally:
     We haunt the Empire, pace the piteous Strand:
v. 1. Oxford.
i.e. we occupy various official positions in India and the Colonies. Strand: i.e. the foreign strand. Cf. Heber (not the Kenite) "India's coral strand." The phrase denotes homesickness. But the whole stanza is certainly obscure.
Or friendless, coinless, for a spurt we rally
        The faltering hand.
Probably waving to the distant shores of beloved Albion. But "friendless, coinless" suggests rather the dead-beat rather than the Indian, or Colonial official.

We prate of Pamela, we pipe of Polly,
    We stock the loved disciple's shady wood
vv. We ask for Anne, we argue over Ada,
     All is foredoomed to fail, like the Armada
We bleat of Barbara, we bawl of Bertha,
     All this is like an edict of Jugurtha.
We cuddle Clara, we caress Corinna
     They are not worth the simple "Ta' ala hinna!"
We chatter of Chilperic, we chirp of Cholly
   (As in text)
We drivel of Dorene, we drone of Dolly,
   (As in text)
We eulogize Elaine, we egg on Emma,
     They do not draw us from our drear dilemma:
We fiddle of Fefine, we fife of Fanny,
     This is as gruesome as to grind one's granny:
We gloat on Gabrielle, we goo-goo Gertie,
     This is unsatisfactory and dirty:
We howl of Helen, we harrah for Hertha,
   (as for B)
We inspan Ivy, we invoke Irene,
     Like sound advice to Mr Mantalini
We joke with Julia, we jolly Jessy,
     This is a proposition really messy:
We kiss Kathleen, we knock up Katerina,
     Like Bonaparte's success at Beresina.
We leer at Lilian, we long for Lottie,
     This is admittedly extremely dotty;
We maunder of Marie, we miaul of Molly,
   (as in text)
We nuzzle up to Norah, we nudge Nancy,
     All this is but the play of idle fancy:
We ogle Olive, we oblate to Olga,
     This dodge is vain as dreams upon the Volga:
We quiz Querida, quarrel over Queenie
   (As for I)
We rave of Rowena, we rant of Rachel,
     All's a mirage like sailors see in Seychelles:
We sing of Sue, we serenade Selina,
   (As for K)
We talk of Tabitha, we troll of Thais,
     Like Shelley's effort to save Adonais,
We undress Undine, we up Ugolina,
   (As for K)
We violate Vivien, we vault on Vera,
     All's an unsatisfactory chimaera;
We waste for Wilhelmine, we wail for Winnie,
     The harmony is harsh, the tune is tinny;
We xylo Xenia, we X-ray Xantippe,
     We disagree with Fra Filippo Lippi:
We yammer of Yvonne, we yell Yolande,
     This is weak tea to Alexandra's brandy:
We've zeal for Zelma, zig-zag after Zaza,
     No! happiness is never a la casa:
The loved disciple is perhaps St John. But Patmos is a rocky, not a wooded island. Obscure.
All this is merely visionary folly:
         It does no good.

We turn us from the tedious trivial traffic
     To vests that hold (your choicest spoil, be sure,
O Illustrated London News or Graphic!)
         Thy Miniature.
Not a painted miniature, of course. More probably a black and white reproduction, a possibly colored one, of a sketch or photograph. Only the gentlemen of noblemen about the court would be in a position to order a painting on ivory by an artist such as Sargent or Herkomer from such sketch or photograph.

To Ann, Bess, Clara, Dora, Ethel, Florrie,
     Grace, Helen, Ida, Jane, Kate, Lily, May,
Nan, Olga, Prudence, Queenie, we say "Sorry!"
         And turn away.

Even from Rosa, Sal, Tabs, Ulrica, Violet,
     Winnie, Xantippe, Yolande, Zaza, we
Turn like the magnet to the sailor's eyelet
         To thee -- to thee.
This nautical reference is on the authority of Lloyd's journal, obscure.
Cancelled passage, vv. XXXI, XXXII

Who Turn? Why Arthur, Bertie, Charles, Dick, Edward,
     Frank George, Hal, Ike, John, Kenneth, Leonard, Mike,
Nat, Oliver, Pete, Quintus, wend them bedward
       Alone, alike.

So Roger, Sam, Tom, Unus, Victor, Willie,
     Xenocrates, Yeo, Zeno, frown on fun,
Disdain delight, cry: "Though you think us silly,
         A. R. or none!"
The line "Alone, alike" resembled too nearly "Aloft, alone," in the famous Diamond Jubilee Ode. Hence the whole passage had to go.

Hell . . .
     Desunt cetera.

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from the Grady Project:

   These two brief articles appeared in Grady's "From the Caliph" column in The Magickal Link (Berkeley: O.T.O.) in August and September of 1981 e.v., on the first page of each issue. In the second article the present editor has in the interests of privacy seen fit to inconspicuously delete the surname of the local officer whom Grady commends. These articles seem almost breathless in their enthusiasm for the rapid growth of the Order during the early 1980s e.v., of which after may years of hard work to "jump-start the war-horse" and get the O.T.O. working again, Grady as Caliph could be justly proud.

Two Notes from the Caliph

by Hymenaeus Alpha 777

Caliph's Log: Star Date . . . You Name It

    I have just returned from a most fantastic adventure. In fact I wouldn't believe it except for the fact that I was there myself. But then, how many times have I said that?
    I mean, meeting Crowley was something like you wouldn't believe. But then so was being a Company Commander in the invasion of Normandy. So what else is new?
    Well, since you were dumb enough to ask, I will tell you.
    We have gone International. Yep! that's right, troops! Two weeks ago in Montreal, Canada, I initiated fifteen Minervals on one night and eight Minervals the next. As Robert Anton Wilson will tell you (note: Cosmic Trigger) 15 + 8 = 23. Of course they have a Third Degree for Lodge Master.
    I am proud to announce that we now have a Phoenix Lodge in Montreal, Canada. I have a suspicion that French-speaking Quebec may be a lesson for all of us. When you stop to think about it, what do the French miss? Well, I knew there had to be some reason why the Caliph-to-come had to have a Master's Degree in Political Theory. What the French miss most is the romance of their Foreign Legion. Their Legion of Strangers. Who happened to be mostly German. And who in the hell are we? We happen to be their Templars. Who happened to be mostly French. Which is why we speak a lingua franca in the field. "In the field" means to be in combat. I should know. How in the hell do you think I went from a buck-ass Private in the rear ranks to a Major of Ordnance in only seven and a half years of active duty? But then, on the other hand, how many centuries has it been since we have seen a real live Templar on a foreign battle field? But that is our ancient heritage. Personally, I think we should be proud of it.
    The next question is: How many countries does it take to elect an O.H.O.? An interesting thought.

*** *** *** *** ***

Drop Trooper: Memoirs of the Caliph

    I have just flown back from Columbus, Georgia, and I have good news for you. The A. O. Spare Encampment has now reached Chapter status.
    It seems that Joe is one of these guys who just does not know when to give up. He was wandering around one day passing out Thelemic material, when he ran across this Inferno Club. It was full of go-go girls (classical routines), and the clientele were mostly skin-head drop troops from Fort Benning where they have whole battalions of paratroopers in training. I visited the club later, and I haven't felt so at home since the Normandy drop. So Joe went in and promptly got bounced because the owner thought he was a
    Baptist missionary. Joe thought about it, and decided to try again. Well, gold is where you find it. Even if you get your teeth kicked in. Anyone who was not into Baptist missionaries might have possibilities. This time he sat down next to Vanessa and they got to talking. Turned out she was heavy into Crowley and knew an awful lot about these things. The net result is that more than half of the Inferno Club signed up, and on August 2 we initiated thirteen Minervals. We have great hopes that this will grow rapidly into a lodge. Of course, Joe is a Second Degree.
    Speaking of the Inferno Club, Crowley would have loved it. I remember in London in '43 e.v. and Crowley and I were rapping across the chess board and he accused the Americans of being "much too serious." Of course we were fighting a war. But his explanation was the old time London music hall: "Because they were so jolly."
    Last month Canada. This month Georgia. Next? An interesting thought. Oyes. The Canadian lodge is expanding rapidly.
P.S. And thank you, Joe, for doing such a marvelous job.

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Amid the Circle of Stars

    We pause in awe and sadness at the news that our sister Kathy Fleck V° celebrated her Greater Feast on the morning of Sunday 27th January 2002 e.v. in ICU at UCSF Medical Center. A devoted astrologer and counselor, Kathy was involved for many years with Sirius Encampment, Thelema Lodge, and the Alpha Chapter R+C, and was the beloved companion of our lodge mentor and newsletter publisher Bill Heidrick. Her quiet advice and gracious assistance have been of value in the preparation of these pages over many years. Kathy led an adventuresome life, including long residence in New Zealand, where she raised a family which also survives her, along with three grandchildren. We shall miss her greatly, and as we observe her passing we celebrate also her peace from the suffering which brought her life to a close over these past few months. Now we give her back to the stars she studied with such love.

Primary Sources

   Grady on Socio-Politics:
   After a few brief comments on Grant and the Pilzan situation, this 1945 e.v. letter from Grady McMurtry to Aleister Crowley revisits a theme we have seen before. Grady trys once again to interest A.C. in a little bit of Technocracy, shaded toward Thelema.

1814th Ord S&M Co (Avn)
APO 149, U. S. Army
28 May 1945
Dear Aleister,

    Yours of 21st May to hand. Am indeed sorry to hear that Grant went so completely on his face. Your last letter indicated that he had gone into a flat spin but I had hoped that he would pull out of it. But then there is no point in moaning about it so will switch to a more pleasant topic. Took a truck load of men on a liberty run to Pilsan over in Czechoslovakia yesterday. Quite a relief to be able to talk to civilians again. The Sudatanland is off limits but the rest of that country is considered as "liberated" territory. My German came in very handy. Up until now it has been quite useless to me except to tell people to get-the-hell-off property taken over by the Army. "Keine Burgher kann heir leben. RAUS MIT."

    In re Karl's request for a letter on the impact of the New Aeon on Social and Political affairs. Some how I feel that I have let you down in not transmitting my ideas in an intelligible form. The fault with Dynamics is that it tries to put the details of proof in with the generalities -- and only succeeds in confusing the issue. The thing to do, of course, is to write it in at least three chapters -- The Dynamics, expressing the grand idea; The Trend of Economic Change, giving the details of the economic side; and The Evolution of Social Concepts, giving free rein to the application of Thelema to such an economic order. There could be additional chapters but those are the main ones. I haven't pressed the point in my letters recently because I had hoped to have them done in the near future. Also it had occurred to me that there was no point in getting you mixed up in ideas alien to Magick. That is -- that you should not become involved in a movement that, should it have a setback, would reflect on your teachings of Magick, as such. However, that is for you to decide. In hopes of making this clear I will run through the outline and some of the proofs of The Evolution of Social Concepts. You will note that I do not go into great detail on Economics -- those proofs are either in The Dynamics or will be in Trends.

The Evolution of Our Social Concepts

    Economics of Scarcity -- based on human labor
    Economics of Abundance -- based on extraneous energy (machinery)
    Our entire history may be summed up as follows: The conversion of an ever- larger fraction of the total flow of solar energy into uses favorable to the human species has brought about our ascendancy over the other life-forms on this planet.
Conversion of solar energy to human uses takes the following forms:
Agriculture -- concentration of grains, etc, in tended patches --
otherwise the sunshine on these acres would be largely wasted -- to us.
Domesticated Animals -- large herds tended for food instead of stalking
such animals separately. Also beast of burden.
Wind and Water -- mills for grinding, ships -- all applications of solar
energy in some form or another.
Fire -- from wood -- weapon of offense and defense against other animals
as well as cold -- converts stored solar energy.


And what does all this have to do with the Thelemic Philosophy? Very simply this: For the first time in human history it is possible for an entire nation to live without a majority of its inhabitants being slaves, industrial or otherwise. What it amounts to is that we build machines to do our work for us, and then the only work that needs to be done is for a few technicians to tend the machines. The development of automatic "push-button", industrial equipment is that far advanced right now. This will give that nation the time and resources, have they but the wit to use it, to educate their people, not just a select few, for living. This will give every opportunity -- and encouragement -- for the individual to follow his or her true Will. And that is Thelema, pure and simple.

The application of our Thelemic Philosophy to a mass movement is an entirely different question. Magick, as such, is ruled out -- the majority of people simply do not understand it. But a philosophy of Freedom! Ah, now -- that is something else again. We must have an organization, I do not like the word Church and Lodge does not describe it, national in scope graduated in its degrees of application from "a working philosophy of life" at the base for those who comprehend the least to "the inner sanctum" at the top for the practitioners of High Magick. You will note that I stress the words "philosophy of life" -- perhaps I can best express myself with the slogan: "We tend to outgrow the idea of A Father God just as we tend to outgrow the idea of a Godly Father". The evolution of our accepted social conception to date would then be: Religion, cynicism, philosophy.

One final point. The Aeon of Isis -- the Earth is our Mother; the Aeon of Osiris -- God is our Father; the Aeon of Horus -- (beginning approximately 1900; modern industrial expansion began in earnest in its purity, inherits the fruits of its labouring parents and does its Will unhindered for he does not have to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow.

To recapitulate:I. Econ. of Scarcity
Econ. of Abundance
Conversion of solar energy
   to human uses
II. Leisure -- education for living
   -- Will
A Philosophy of Life
The Aeon of Horus -- Abundance
    and Thelema

Sometimes I think that I am trying to unscrew the inscrutable. To me it as clear as crystal -- when a nation has an abundance of the goods of life its people become independent of Nature -- being independent of Nature they have every encouragement to be Individuals, each following his own Will -- and I always end up at Thelema. Where did you get off this time?

Yours ever

Previous Primary Sources

Thelema Lodge Events Calendar for February 2002 e.v.

2/1/02Candlemas ritual, 8PM at Grace North
Church, Berkeley
(510) 534-5739Thelema Ldg.
2/3/02Brigid ritual at Cheth House, 3:30PM(510) 652-3171Thelema Ldg.
2/3/02Gnostic Mass 7:30PM Horus Temple(510) 652-3171Thelema Ldg.
2/10/02Gnostic Mass 7:30PM Horus Temple(510) 652-3171Thelema Ldg.
2/11/02New Moon in Aquarius 11:41.PM
2/12/02Mardi Gras!
2/14/02Feast of St. Valentine
2/17/02Gnostic Mass 7:30PM Horus Temple(510) 652-3171Thelema Ldg.
2/18/02Section II reading group with
Caitlin: The Art of Love by Ovid
& erotic Elegies 8PM in the library
(510) 652-3171Thelema Ldg.
2/24/02Gnostic Mass 7:30PM Horus Temple(510) 652-3171Thelema Ldg.
2/27/02Full Moon in Virgo 1:17 AM
2/28/02The Book of Thoth reading group
8:00PM library
(510) 652-3171Thelema Ldg.

    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.

Thelema Lodge
Ordo Templi Orientis
P.O. Box 2303
Berkeley, CA 94702 USA

Phone: (510) 652-3171 (for events info and contact to Lodge)

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