Twisties: Destruction

Posted: Saturday, May 9, 2009 by N. F. Robinson in Labels:
4

(Being the fourth in an ongoing correspondence with the amazingly awesome Miss Twist, whose blog you can find here. This one is a little different. Last night I summoned SITRI, a demon prince from the Goetia book of demons, into my shed. I then asked him for advice on what to write for the blog. He did not explode my head. Yet. Here it is, anyway, transcribed from twenty four - one note was emitted - sheets of paper. It might not make some sense. I may upload the original sheets, with diagrams and all - I spent a lot of time drawing. I don't know. Enjoy.)

1. I destroy.

2. I destroy NOW.

3. I stand here with SITRI, prince bound in tin, manifest in a human's body and a leopard's head. He is my shed. He screams, sometimes, and sometimes he laughs; he is a prince of fire and force, not unlike Horus. He makes women lust for men, and men lust for women, and may allow them to appear naked; but this is not why he is here. He is here to talk to me about destruction.

4. And SITRI has something to say: an epiphany. Time is now. Destruction is now. The past cannot be touched, the future will always remain the future. There is no tranquility in the past, and the future can never be anything but an uncertain haze. Go far enough, and the past becomes an uncertain haze; looped, edited, cut-up - we are the directors of the past, and some of us cannot make good films.

5. SHEMHAMPHORASH.

6. Wood feeds fire. Fire makes ash. Earth gives birth to metal. Metal holds water. Water feeds wood.

7. Wood separates earth. Earth muddies water. Water destroys fire. Fire melts metal. Metal hacks wood.

8. This is the Five Movements of the I Ching. Creation is a circle, destruction is a star. Destruction is a star. Every man and woman is a star. This is the perfect model of the magician. Protect yourself with creation: art, music, literature, neophilia. Out of death comes rebirth. None of us are Buddha. With death comes criticism, skepticism, anxiety. Use them. Use the fear. It is no coincidence that the Five Movements form the pentagram of the sorcerer. Art is better with fear; music is better with pain; literature is better with anxiety.



9. I stand near the flames as the spirit burns. The sigil may have worked too well. The flames flicker. Richard pours more Zippo fluid on it. He claims to see the light blue of my Lesser Banishing of the Pentagram. I don't disbelieve him. Richard pours more Zippo on it. The sigil will not burn. Have you ever heard an elemental scream? The fire rises, rises, rises, rises, rises. It takes six hours for the sigil to burn. I bury it. Earth consumes fire, and earth holds air.

10. I stand near the flames as the spirit burns. My own: dead weight. Dead Waite. Thank you, Al. The cards take a long time to burn. Not six hours. But a long time. Thank you, Al. The Waite Tarot burns, and I dance about it. I have a new Tarot deck now. The Thoth. It is everything everyone ever wanted in a Tarot deck. Everything! Everything!

11. Oh, you bastard.

12. A first initiation destroys nothing. It creates a membership: the League of Logobouros, Frater, Medical Doctor. A second creates nothing: I am a faithful servant of Chiwall. Chi - vital force. Wall - the blocking of that force. Anything less would be black magic. Anything more, I think, would be black magic. Oh no. I don't like black magic. Don't let me do black magic, mum.

13. A third initiation fucks everything. I am three hours late. One o'clock in the morning late. Avoiding all calls. Off the train. And then he hits me. He slaps me in the face. I am mugged by God. Or the closest thing to God. There are no Fifth Degree Adepts with me now. No smiling Logobouros to buy me a drink and ask if he can fuck my girlfriend. He cannot fuck my girlfriend. An initiation - the world crashes, reboots, crashes again. I wake up - now three and a half hours late. I was mugged, I say. I am taken to the police station. I tell them I was mugged.

14. I can enter churches. I can enter graveyards. I can enter that scary place in between the park and the public school, where it is dark and the kid was killed. I cannot enter the building where I do university. I am stopped flat.

15. I cry. She cries. I am a failure. She is boring. I will always be a failure. She is not pretty. We are both imperfect. Flawed creations. But I love her. Really. I do. And I think she loves me. We fight, though, when we should fuck. So I think that is the problem. But she is pretty and not boring.

16. I am still a failure.

17. A caution.

18. A magician is constantly destroying and creating. Reinventing themselves. Creating the persona. I am only personae. What else is there for a dictionary of characters? Perfect! A perfect chaos magician! Brilliant! Shut the fuck up. How can it be brilliant? If the Abyss was brilliant it wouldn't be called the Abyss! It would be called, say, "The Sun", or the "Brilliant Abyss", or the "Holy Guardian Angel". Where is my angel? The operation fails. Shut the fuck up.

19. We are in a recession. The recession is not our fault. Not really - it is, yes, ours, and the banks, and the government's, it is everyone's fault (but not really ours specifically). The bushfires are the the government. We are in a depression. The bushfires were set up by the government. Sure, one or two were natural, but the government played the rest. So we could stimulate the economy. Coincidence? No coincidences. Coles has a Friday All Profits Go To The Appeal Day. So does Safeway. Donate at the shops! Easy! And buy something as well! It cheapens death. The government planned it. People died so our economy would live. And I have friends who lost everything in the fire. It wasn't a conspiracy. How could it have been? Who stages a mass firestorm? I am a fool. Sitri is a fool. Sitri is not a fool. I also believe in UFO's and Bigfoot. No I don't. I haven't seen a UFO.

20. Every July I fall in love. And I cannot kill myself. That which kills me makes me stronger, and I crave destruction.

21. I haven't showed up for two months.

22. I don't write enough. I just don't. I procrastinate. A blog is not writing. I am a failure. Time to be destroyed.

23. ABRAHADABRA.

4 comments:

  1. Oskar says:

    "the future can never be anything but an uncertain haze."
    So much for your determinism of beliefs theory from NLT. Or do you dissagree with SITRI?

    "Wood feeds fire. Fire makes ash. Earth gives birth to metal. Metal holds water. Water feeds wood.

    Hold on, earth gives birth to metal? Even if I accept that these materials are somehow linked by hidden powers, metal is as much in wood as it is in the ash burned by wood. Also, yu are really stretching the immagination in saying that "metal holds water" when wood and earth do the same thing.

  1. :P My determinism theory was just that: a theory. I've mentioned several times that I am not a determinist, but my crazy determinism theory seems to stick in people's mind.

    This is ancient Chinese philosophy here, so bear with me. Metal was mined out of the earth, so it was considered to be 'birthed' by mother earth. Metal holds water because of the use of metal buckets. Wood typically does the same thing, sure, but it also rots a lot faster than metal dependably rusts.

    Also take note that I was out of my mind a little while writing these :P And yes, I disagree with Sitri on several major points. I'm not even convinced that he's NOT figment of my imagination, yet.

  1. Oskar says:

    "Wood typically does the same thing, sure, but it also rots a lot faster than metal dependably rusts."

    I have to disagree with you there. Particularly if the water was salty (something that would have, correctly, seemed more abundant than fresh water to the ancient Chinese) the metal (I doubt they had discovered stainless steel).

  1. You raise a good point, Oskar, and I believe you have out-logicked me. Still, that's the way the whole Feng Shui Five Substances thing goes, and the Chinese have been doing it for a very long time.

    I'm not saying it's right, I'm just saying it works and it's not my fault :P