Sunday, March 8, 2015

Aurelio Zosimo--The Crazy Professor


The Crazy Professor was a strange, spaced-out sorcerer who looked like he belonged in a rock band. He taught philosophy at the Bythos Academy. He was heavily involved in charitable work for Deeples and also Deevees, the utter dregs of magical society, lower than folk practitioners. Leonard’s father thought The Crazy Professor was a terrorist. It did not surprise him in the least that, within weeks of the H. Trismegistus parent-alumni reception, Professor La Maga was seen cavorting with The Crazy Professor. His name was Aurelio Zosimo. 

From La Maga A Story About Sorcerers and Magi

Aurelio Zosimo was a 44-year-old, wry, impish, and obscure-witted academic of early Greek philosophy and medieval Hermeticism. He had been a child prodigy. The prodigious-ness set the stage for him to become, at the mere age of 32 years, the Marsillio Ficino Scholar Emeritus at the Bythos Academy of Magical Sciences.
Zosimo had a plaque on his office door. On it was inscribed a motto adopted by Commons enthusiasts of his brand of sorcery. The plaque read Nothing is true; everything is permitted.

Popular lore had it that the 11th century ascetic Islamic fundamentalist Hassan ibn Sabbah—a mystic and mastermind of an assassin squad—had said it right before he bit the dust at age 90 years, but the saying was actually penned and launched as legend by the 20th century Commons beat poet and career drug-addict William S. Burroughs, in whom a romanticist fascination with Sabbah developed. Outer Plane Discordians and Chaos mages had cheekily spun lore about Sabbah and his alleged pronouncement into cult fiction, conspiracy, legend, and disinformation.

Those of small mind and little vision regarded the saying as an anarchist war cry. To them, the saying was tinged with hedonism of a kind more crass than the generally misconstrued motto expectorated by the notorious Victorian-era sorcerer-mage Aleister Crowley: Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. However, in modern parlance among those who adopted the motto Nothing is true; everything is permitted, it was simply an affirmation that all belief was provisional, not absolute. Because belief shaped perception, which modified behavior which modified circumstance, perhaps circumstance could be modified if belief that modified perception and behavior was deliberately fabricated rather than imposed as unquestioned convention. 

From The Savior at the End of Time


Sunday, February 22, 2015

Russell Brand and the (Not So) Big Deal about 50 Shades of Grey

What is really so provocative about 50 Shades of Grey that even Russell Brand has been compelled to pontificate on it? (And hit the nail on the head, btw. Thank you, Russell. <3)  It’s cheesy erotica, written in hackneyed 6th-grade reading-level English, that became a media sensation in a pathetically dummied-down society driven by market trends and those who profit from and manipulate them.  Kudos to the book's writer, I guess, for expertly playing the chat-board strategy to promote her self-published e-book.

That said, the big deal about the social implications of the “oeuvre” is curious to me.  It says a lot about what we think about women.  Folks are freaked out about how the book/movie  glorifies abusive relationships and how confounding it is that women, in particular, are drawn to it.  Hello. 50 Shades is erotica/soft porn. Women are not reading it because they so wish they could be in an abusive relationship; they are reading it (or flocking to the flick) because it provides a sexual thrill.  A hot fantasy.  Something to self-pleasure themselves to. Does that fact really need to be dissected and critiqued in a world where thousands of men are compulsively masturbating to computer porn on a daily basis?

Hand wringing over the social implications of this work of fiction is about on par with fundamentalist Christian concern that the Harry Potter series promotes Satanic magic-mongering among children. 



                                                                    

Not long ago, I self-published a book called The Sex Lives of Sorcerers. It is the second book in a fantasy fiction series for adults that meld fantasy with authentic content drawn from Western occultism and Eastern mysticism. It is not meant to be dark or sexually provocative; it is meant to be thoughtful.  One acquaintance who read The Sex Lives of Sorcerers said she felt gypped because the word Sex was in the title but there wasn’t any sex in the book.  No, there’s definitely sex in the book—it’s just not graphic sex.  It’s really not a book about sex, anyway; it is a book about alchemy, reincarnation, and spiritual transformation in the context of a bisexual MWM relationship. And it includes a bit of bondage and sublimation—like all good paranormal fiction…



“Men stare at you because you’re fuckable. That’s what men do,” Bobby said sourly. He downed the first shot of whisky in a biting gulp and pointed to a crowd at the far end of the bar. “The next guy who turns around—he wants to fuck you really badly.”
 “You’re a retard,” Bella swiped “And you shouldn’t go off your meds like that.”
Bobby swilled another shot of whiskey and chanted that Bella be attentive lest she miss the portended sighting. His little finger, poised on a glass, gestured to where he had pointed before.
Sure enough, a man turned around. It was one of the men who had been in the woods that first time Bella had ever seen Bobby. He was the lankier one with the light brown hair, not the darker one with broad shoulders. He had a heavy brow and piercing eyes that despite the dim lighting Bella could guess were like an unusual blue-green gem. His nose was a perfectly streamlined protrusion and his beauty was masculine and brooding. He seemed a little age-worn, too.
He directed a cold glance at Bobby that drifted to pierce Bella’s gaze and soften. The gesture made Bella sting with fright and a thrill because . . . she didn’t know why. Then he turned away.
“Should we send him over a drink?” Bella asked.

“No,” Bobby tersely replied. He was a “vampire”—he and the other man, Bobby said.

-From Chapter 7 A Giant Pink Dragon in The Sex Lives of Sorcerers by Soror ZSD23



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Monday, February 16, 2015

The Olympic Spirits Part 2 Ophiel The Intelligence of Mercury



Sixthly [is the wisdom of] the ministers of punishments in Hell and also those who are obedient to God.from Aphorism 9 of the Arbatel

Ophiel is the Olympic Spirit associated with the planet mercury and the Roman God of the same name.

The name Ophiel , which first appears in a medieval book called the Arbatel is a mash-up of Greek and Hebrew terms. Ophis means serpent in Greek and El means God in Hebrew,  Therefore Ophiel means Serpent of God. This might be a reference to the caduceus of Mercury

Ophiel is said to rule 14 Provinces. This translates into the equation 7 x 2, making Ophiel’s value 2. Its geometric form is the line, indicating time and space structure and cohesion. It is represented in a diagram described in the Arbatel called the Seal of Secrets of the world as the lines radiating from the center of the seal and dividing it into eighths. We know this because the Arbatel tells us that Ophiel has 100,000 legions. If we do a simple algebra, we come up with the equation 100,000 = (8 x 12.5) x 1000.

12.5 represents an eighth of the Seal.


The term “100,000 legions” also may mean that Ophiel extends from the center into limitless space from the depths to the heights. We find this idea in the quote from the Arbatel that the sixth wisdom is the “wisdom of the ministers of punishments in Hell and also whose are obedient to God” –a reference to the realms of angels and demons  but also, our own consciousness. 

Sunday, February 8, 2015

The Olympic Spirits Part 1 Phul Luna, Diana, the Intelligence of the Moon



Phul is the Olympic Spirit associated with the Roman goddess Diana, the moon, and the elemental realm, including the fairy realm.

The Olympic Spirits and the Seal of Secrets of the World
Phul, the Governor of the Mysteries of the Moon


Seventhly the [wisdom of the] Pigmies pertains to the lowest place, including they who inhabit the elements and things related to them.” –from Aphorism 9 of the Arbatel

Phul is the Olympic Spirit associated with the moon and the Roman goddess Diana. In Sanskrit the word Phul  means “flower.” The word for “moon” in Sanskrit is soma, which happens to be the Latin word for body. If we understand the wordplay correctly, then we can understand that Phul is associated with the material world, the body, sense experience, and the elements, including the fairy realm, which the writer of the Arbatel –the quintessential medieval book on the OS -- refers to as “the Pigmies.”


Phul said to rule 7 Provinces. This translates into the equation 7 x 1, making Phul’s value 1. Its geometric form is the point and its placement in a diagram described in the Arbatel called the Seal of Secrets of the world is its center. In addition to Phul, this center may be associated with the dimensionless point  which according to Empedocles, is “the circle, the center of which is everywhere, the circumference nowhere.” The Arbatel’s instructions for drawing the Seal of Secrets says:

Projecting from the center, this is the invisible God in the entire creature.

The Arbatel suggests that, in addition to representing the Divine Ground from which all of existence emerges and spreads out into time and space, the center of the Seal/ of Secrets—where Phul resides–represents the body, elemental beings, and the microcosm, which is the reflection of the macrocosm.


Phul is said to make men to live 300 years. This  may be a cryptic way of saying that mastery of Phul consciousness makes one a master of the elemental sphere—Nature, including human nature within the terrestrial sphere. We know this because 300 resolves to 3, a number associated with, in the Arbatel, with Hagith, the Intelligence of the planet Venus. In this way, we see a relationship between the elemental and terrestrial spheres.

--ZSD23

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Leonard wasn't missing class...


Leonard de Lux couldn’t care less about whether the guys were confused about it; he wasn’t missing class. He didn’t have to explain shit to them. They all suddenly seemed like a bunch of assholes.

“You said your father wasn’t going to that class today, Lenny,” Bertrand Solaris growled.

“I don’t show up for class just because my father’s taking it!” Leonard snapped.

“‘Taking the class.’ What are you talking about?” Bertrand hollered. Cary and Anil were hanging by his side and looking just as confrontational. 

“You’re punking out on a Phaeton maneuver match. That’s, like, traitorous,” Cary said.


Leonard went silent but held his ground. The guys laughed, they teased; they cajoled; they didn’t “get” that Leonard was serious. He did not want to play. He did not want to miss the lost codes and keys class. It was the only class he ever took that he liked and did well in and that made him feel as if he weren’t doomed.


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Thursday, November 27, 2014

Leo de Lux the Antihero of the Sorcerers and Magi Series



Besides the strikingly pale eyes, de Lux had severe but attractive features. His closely cropped hair was dark auburn. He had a smooth, fair, unblemished complexion; strong, intense brow; a perfect nose; and thin expressive lips that moved along with his fierce eyes to pout, wince, sneer, and tediously sigh.
The man looked bored or exasperated most of the time. He saved his smile for either indulgently bawdy or awe-inspiring moments. He was not easily impressed, but he was easily annoyed.
He was finely focused on the power of appearances. He had a knack for materializations. This was not a particularly profound feat, but a noteworthy and entertaining one. Not only could he materialize all sorts of precious objects, he could, for the entertainment of friends, materialize whole holographic theatrical performances, concerts, and sports events.
For his enemies, he made annoying and sometimes forbidding thought-forms that tended to be nearly impossible to get rid of. 

Available through amazon.com. See tab at the header of this page.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Sofia La Maga Nothing But a Bedraggled Kitchen Witch


It was just as Leonard’s father had insisted. Professor La Maga was nothing but a bedraggled kitchen witch.
She didn’t seem at all like the stories told about her. In fact, she roamed through the secondary school’s second-floor corridor as if she were roller-skating with three left feet and had the mental disposition of a hedgehog. 
She was a tall, slender but robust woman with the rough-and-tumble appearance of someone who had weathered hard climbs in exotic lands. Her clothes were rustic, quaintly worn, and embellished with savage jewelry: jangling bells and sashes of bone and fur, claws, shells, and spike-studded pods. Her Medusa-like mane was haphazardly plaited here and there and cluttered her face, blinding her as she toddled along.