2,000 Greater & Lesser Mysteries

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┌──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ │ BAHLASTI PAPERS │ │ │ │ Newsletter of Kali Lodge │ │ Ordo Templi Orientis │ │ │ │April 1992 e.v. An IIIxxi Sol in Aries Volume VI, no. 8│ │ │ │ Address all inquiries to: │ │ │ │ BAHLASTI PAPERS │ │ c/o Kali Lodge │ │ Ordo Templi Orientis │ │ Post Office Box 15038 │ │ New Orleans, LA 70115 │ │ │ │ Deadline for May Contributions: April 12, 1992 │ │ │ │ To receive future issues: │ │ │ │ Please send $2.25 per issue │ │ $27.00 per year │ │ in kare of Kali Lodge │ │ │ │ Please make all checks payable to │ │ CASH!! │ │ │ │ Contributors to this issue: │ │ │ │ Soror Chen, Frater Turbator, Frater NChSh, │ │ Frater Lugis Thor, Frater Numa 718, Nema, │ │ C.R. Torrey, Margrat, Soror Nancy, Jet Satin │ └──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ So, right after doing our Inter-Kontinental Kali Working, my husband gave me a copy of Angry Women, and then we saw Thelma and Louise. Now I'm sure that soon women are just going to go crazy from all the shit they take all the time, and they're going to start commiting random acts of violence and desperation. This, then, is the "Wimmen on the Edge" issue of the Bahlasti Papers, in which we will vent before we explode or blow something up... ┌─────────────────────────────────────┐ │ FROM THE DESK OF THE GRAND PUBAETTE │ └─────────────────────────────────────┘ "Magnificent beasts of women with large limbs, and fire and light in their eyes, and masses of flaming hair about them...." What a beautiful and powerful image! So why have I been afraid to approach this article? Is it because my mother was such a terror? Or because Crowley's Babalons ended up abandoned dipsomaniacs, raving, mad, manic, lost? Or because I fear that Babalon will forever challenge and ultimately consume any shreds of security that I've managed to build into my life? Babalon has been a difficult archetype for me to understand. I was not raised by religious parents, so the images of Babalon in Revelations are not particularly shocking to me. My Great-Grandmother, after whom I was named, was a Suffragette. My Mother was one of the strongest and smartest people I have ever known. She was large-limbed and athletic, fiery and fierce. But she was an unspeakably difficult person. Madness overwhelmed her psyche, terrifying us, her children. She was a Babalon locked in the cage of society. My Mother's life was war. She taught her girls how to be fierce, independent, and strong, but she also taught us how to allure and control men. She understood sexual politics, and feeling trapped by social programming, wanted a way to control from within a woman's role, secretly and manipulatively. In return, we were taught by our Father that strong women are a problem, are out of line, unfeminine and sick. Behave. Be nice. Don't be a raving bitch like your Mother. Things aren't so terribly different now than when I was growing up. The Thompson Senate hearings showed our subtle, secret, and instant mistrust of women. Strong women who are equal and armed with truth and integrity are bad, dangerous, unladylike. Crowley tried to establish a different role for women. Yet his basic lack of respect for, and understanding of women is betrayed by the bulk of his writing. His novels, in particular, preach his convenient and offensive view that a woman's "True Will" should be that of a help-meet to her man's work. He considered women to be an inferior subspecies of humanity. His Scarlet Women embodied Babalon by virtue of being fucked by "The Beast". Leah Hirsig's diaries chronicle a tragic descent into madness. When Crowley changed bed partners, Leah was abandoned by her lover, her identity, and her purpose. She wisely longed to have a ritual in which the old Scarlet Woman would pass on the bloodline to the new Queen Bee, but she never recognised her own calling and right, nor ever got beyond the idea of there being only one title-bearing Babalon. I feel love and gratitude to Leah. But she was a martyr, and martyrs are a waste. Is being Babalon any different than being someone's wife? A woman in a relationship is property, owned by the man. She's his girlfriend, his wife. Nema once asked if Babalon exists independently of The Beast... A few years ago I met a woman who was Babalon to a famous magician's Beast. It was a very important meeting for me. She was beautiful-- looking like a crone with long hair and an intricate network of fine lines all over her face. At the time I was wondering if there were any female Magistrar Templis out there. Her paintings are stunning, magical, powerful. Her poetry staggering, inspired, and her catalog of experience rich, extreme, vivid. I asked her to find a scribe and pass on her bloodline, but she was uncomfortable with the idea. I had the impression of a woman who was locked into her own mythology-- her own exclusive hold on experience, grief , mystery. She had grown bitter and mean through coveting her title. I felt she had no more trust or love for women than did society. She did not seem to feel that all women can embody Babalon. I asked her if she thought women could do a Babalon Working for themselves, as opposed to having Babalon invoked upon them. She did not answer. My meeting with this woman was devastating for me. So much potential. A woman's genius. A gift to the world that was not given. When you believe in your own myth, it explodes. In the years that I have spent in the O.T.O., I have encountered two versions of the sexual role of Babalon as wanton harlot: One in which a woman devotes herself to one Beast and loves all men through him; and one in which a woman has sexual relations with as many men as are willing in order to fairly literally love "all". In this, as in all things, I believe it is only valid to follow your own bliss. Babalon's sexual license requires freedom from pedestrian moral judgement. It is not easy to get around negative self-image and not restrict behavior on one hand, or overcompensate with wildly self-destructive or compromising behavior on the other. But Babalon's beauty comes from knowing her self, and radiating that self, unfettered, to the world. In the end, particular questions of Babalon's sexuality-- whether she should be promiscuous or monogamous, whether she should be on top or bottom, etc., etc.--are really missing the mark. These are intellectual questions that, for me, reduce us to the literal and robs meaning of dimension. I see "Babalon astride the Beast, holding the reins of compassion that unite them" in a different light. Perhaps it is because I feel women need to start invoking Babalon upon themselves through acts of devotion and ritual. We need to trust the image of the strong, powerful, glorious woman, and let her come through us. For me, artistic creation is a means of invocation. Artistic genius creates directly from the Divine without translation, description, or explanation. It requires an initial descent into Hell, but if you survive you get strong enough to hold those reins of passion and create-- genius! I envision a world where all women are strong and beautiful. I look forward to a world which reflects the gifts of women's genius. --Chen ____________________________________________________________ ┌─────────────────┐ │ READER FEEDBACK │ └─────────────────┘ Dear Sallie: My belief in the future of humanity has been sorely tested this week. Yesterday was the woman who, not five seconds after I showed her how to put her dog into a sit, went back to yanking on the leash. Pity the poor dog! Today was the 14 year old girl who'd already had chlamydia & an ovarian cyst, somehow miraculously avoiding pregnancy. I literally crossed my fingers that she wasn't pregnant, when it came out negative I was able to get her a birth control appointment that hour 'cause we'd had a cancellation. Her fiance was in the waiting room, we had to give her state funding because she didn't want her mom to know, even though there was MediCal because last time she ran away & her mom destroyed her birth control pills. I suggested the just- state-funded Norplant since her mom wouldn't be able to do anything about that! Or the muscleman blonde boyfriend of another woman. I had to ask someone 'cause he almost seemed like a stranger to her from across the counter. She almost looked like she'd cry when we asked her for a donation for her exam & pills, she didn't have any money. He says "She doesn't have any money? Uh, ok, here." Pulls out five bucks reluctantly & with no sign of heart for her. God what a slime!! I'm starting to wonder about having kids too. It's as if we have to put them in training from infancy to save the world. Move to the country, home-school, & on & on. But will it be worth it. But if we don't....... Love, Margrat - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Dear Chen, Do what what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. Glad Yule, joyful Solstice, stimulating Saturnalia, etc! Re: the future of the planet, etc. If the trend of environmental awareness continues, there's hope of turning around the pollution situation. There is a rolling weight of public opinion heading in that direction, laws being enacted & enforced, international agreements being devised, signed, new cleanup and recycling methods being devised, once endangered species being re-established. The current chaos in various governments being destroyed and reborn and in the global economic situation seems to be a necessary turbulence for a new (and better?) general kind of world to be born. Ra Hoor Khut, he cut no slack, Sistah! That which used to suffice no longer works, so we have to kick our collective ingenuity into overdrive to correct the results of our past mistakes and find new ways to live. This is how history works--only now we know more than we ever did (science), we can do more than we ever have (technology) and we can reach more people than we were ever able to before (global satellite TV, computer nets, World Music). Whole nations and peoples are becoming aware of each other and learning to care about each other. I've always held that the point of being a MagicKian is to nudge the seeds of events in directions recommended by True Will, then shepherding them along to manifestation. Why else bother with Magick if one doesn't use it to change the world as well as to change oneself? It really works! In a real way, the Kali-Yuga and the Aeon of Horus are doing what they're supposed to do: destroying the unworkable, the obsolete, the stagnant and Restriction. I see the Aeon of Maat also in effect in the emerging of the new World Consciousness through our new level of complexity and connections. He knocks 'em down and She reconfigures 'em differently; this is the essential opera- tional mode of the Double Current of Horus and Maat. (Evolutionary note - in my own course of Initiation: first I was a Thelemite, then a Thelemite/Maatian, then a Thelemite/ Maatian/ Pan Aeonian? adi Nath/ Wiccan/ Chaosian/ friend of the Loas/etc.) Pan-Aeonic (or Panaeonic) Magick uses the good parts of all Aeonic formulas to tailor/fit an Operation to its intended End. It balances out Uncle Al's particular pet peeves with Christianity with clear and honest assessments of the true and useful aspects of Osiris. It holds that the course of human Initiation is cumulative, not linear, and that all formulas are in effect now, past, present, and future. Since all phenomena is illusion, time and sequence are illusions. In my opinion, the most effective method of changing the world involves certain essentials. The first step is contemplative and analytical: what is the problem situation? Break it down into its component parts. Big topics, like the current state of the world, can be seen to be composed of a large and completely related number of sub-topics -- pollution, physical; air, water, soil, food-chain, radio- actives, noise, electrical, X-ray, broadcast. Pollution, human; politics, war, terrorism, apartheid, restriction, dictatorship, intimidation, racism, fundamentalism, etc. (Human pollution functions on Assiah as well as on the Lower Astral.) Roots: the invention of agriculture and the sub- sequent increase in human numbers, the discrepency between technological ability and ethical application, the idea of the self contained in one skin. Exploitable benefits: it's a pressured situation in "Kether is pressure" Dion Fortune; the greater the number of units & the greater the complexity of their connections, the higher the degree of intelligence that can manifest; there's a great collective desire for equilibrium, which aligns with Nature's desire according to the laws of physics and ecology. I'm sure you can come up with many more aspects of the problem situations. The next step is establishing a variety of Magickal Links with what you see as the key aspects of the problem, both positive and negative. Take out membership in some environ- mental organizations that already exist; collect newspaper and magazine photos of key individuals in industry and government; recycle at home and work as much as possible, turn out the lights, take "country showers" etc.; keep tabs on local, state and fed laws and regulations, news, etc., so you know what's going on, to the extent you judge necessary. The third step lies in selecting specific energy applica- tions on the Magickal level -- tipping judge's decisions, reducing or enhancing a spokeperson's credibility; it's valid to do rites of general intent, also "healing for Earth" rituals, etc. The fourth step is to devise proper rituals and do them, either solo or with colleagues. The fifth step is live in confidence that the Magick's working. Encourage it as the occasions to do so arise, and let it go as work-in-progress, well-set-up. Totally banish any lust for results. Let your example speak to others. Okay, there are other things like broadcasting on the astral your lucid dreaming visions of how it could be, invoking appropriate godforms, etc, but remember to maintain your own balance in interests and activities. In all, if you have a grasp of the essentials of a situation and on how to raise the right energy, you can make changes in your world. Death is fascinating in that it's universal, inevitable and so very final. Both my parents died of cancer too--I wish I could have been closer to them at the time, but I was too invloved with having babies and tending them. Alas. AIDS is a slow & nasty way to go, I agree. There's no virtue in suffering; maybe the Hemlock Society has a point -- ("Final Exit" on the bestsellers list?) One of the good things about death (in my opinion) is that the rich and powerful die just as dead as the poor and miserable. Death is the new taboo, now that sex has been demystified. Tsk-tsk. I think the reason for many people's avoidance of thinking of death is not just the personal finality of it, but death dispels many illusions about the importance of one's preoccupations. Fame, wealth, control and power over other people are utterly useless at the gate of death. I don't think spiritual "brownie points" (merit) are of much use either, since we judge ourselves. It's a great meditation. SO, be of good cheer -- everything's constantly changing and Magick gives you a means of directing that change. A.C. was not kidding about the essentials, though he wasn't above some elaborate leg-pulls on the details. Work is the Sovereign Remedy for Melancholy of the spirit and it sure beats being bored. Blessings of the Newborn Sun be upon you! (Existence is pure joy.) Love is the law, love under will. IPSOS ____________________________________________________________ ┌───────────────────────────────────────────────┐ │ SIGHTINGS OF INTER-KONTINENTAL KALI WORKINGS! │ └───────────────────────────────────────────────┘ KALI LODGE O.T.O. ================= Feb. 8, 1992 e.v. 4:30 -- 6:49 am WILL FOR WORKING: To initiate positive change and activity, and to inspire understanding within the confines and conditions of the Kali-Yuga. WORKING: -Banishing -Exchange white tattoos of Kali's name in Sanskrit above Mulhadhara -Opening of Voudon Doors: --Draw ve-ve --Libations on ve-ve --Calling: Marassa Morts Mysteres --Hymn to Kali -"5 m's" offerings to KALI in Binah (we couldn't think of anything that we could consume that would be taboo to each of us, so we opted for toxic offerings from the KALI-YUGA, all tastefully served on styrofoam). Traditional We substituted Wine ----- Jaegermeister Meat ----- Red diet jello (made with horse hooves and cyclamates) Fish ----- Canned tuna fish Mudra ----- Red Snoballs (Pestulent little red sponge cakes, encased in a layer of red jelly and coated with coconut sprinkles, then sealed in cellophane) Placed all offerings on the ancestor altar which is made of animal bones. Fifth offering was tantric in nature, with repetitions of Kali mantra throughout. -Sent offerings out across the Aethyrs through the Cry of the Thirty Aethyrs, concentrating on the 16th Aethyr to coordinate with Oceania's work. Annointed tattoos & contact items (Kali doll from Oceania, sharks tooth necklace from Icehouse, etc..) to connect with those working in other Temples. -Banishing EXPERIENCE: I had worked all night at the club. Arrived in the Temple at exactly 4:30 am, as intended, to begin the ritual. No sense of time. Distinctly intoxicated through- out, from initial banishing to final banishing. TATTOOS: Felt pain. Kali Yuga. We gave pain as ritual charge to all of us working across the Aethyrs. A gift of love, as a mother giving birth through pain. The ink went into the belly... OFFERINGS: Felt increasingly intoxicated with each offering. Felt like sacraments (making sacred). Also felt the humor of our offerings. Kali beyond time and meaning, laughing and dispelling terror! Our offerings were of the Kali-Yuga. Her yoga is sacred. Pain again, & consumption. The effect was transmuting. TANTRA: Intensely sensual, and so much love. Wanted to stay in Kali without intellectualizing, so hung out in mantra. All felt warm and pleasurable. Kali image as hideous dark crone with drooping breast straddling Siva - but beautiful somehow, and lythe. Perception of pain and sorrow and limits. Thoughts of love and death and reabsorbtion. Not specific thoughts. Very soothing somehow. Wavering sorrow and bliss. Kali's image moved down around me. We were consumed: sacrament. CRY OF THE AETHYR AND ANNOINTMENT: Felt our environment move out, out--Icehouse, Australia, Black Moon. Saw fire dance on the funeral pyre. The Hindu wife throwing herself on the funeral pyre. Saw skeletons dancing on the fire. Saw Aussie Lodge as in Chod rite--on funeral pyre, where flames were demons eating them. This funeral pyre was within Kali's womb (which, at this point, was my womb). The terrible mother. Her blood is fire. Her eyes are aflame with blood. Her children are born from her womb of fire. Into a terrible world of flame. The water of her womb--lava, on which flow her children, are born. -There were other flashes--perceptions which seemed revela- tory, but fleeting--like drug revelations-- -For all those involved in the working--felt we touched. Bonded. Felt love as for beautiful brothers and sisters. A beginning, or rather, the beginning of a continuance. * * * RESULTS: Next day in conversation with Brother, he quoted "Existence is pure joy". Even in the Kali-Yuga, with Aids, cancer, drug addiction and violence in the streets, etc-- The answer, without exception or explanation or excuse. "Experience is pure joy." This is my experience within the ritual, and my request for understanding within the condi- tions of the Kali-Yuga. The trance of world sorrow trans- forming into pure joy, beyond time-- -Begin Tunnel Workings with Black Moon--new current, working the Shadow paths and involving magical techniques that are new and stimulating to us-- -Communications from Icehouse that reflect very strong per- ceptions & efforts at transcending within constrictions of the Kali-Yuga. -Several new women appear at the Lodge who are strong, beautiful, intelligent, motivated, etc., etc., including a pilgramette from--Australia! She wanted a ve-ve tattoo, and taught us an aboriginal song that welcomes & says good- bye to spirits. So we seem to be experiencing positive change and new currents. We are gaining insights into the Kali-Yuga. We are receiving continued involvement from the people who worked the ritual. Also on a purely material level, Kali has been bestowing boons and removing obstacles at my hobby job--in spite of peculiar mechinations and efforts to the contrary from local politicians. BLACK MOON ========== February 8th 1992. New Orleans. From an entry in the Magickal Record of Frater Lugis Thor. Rite: Kali Will: Manifestation for change. In conjunction with Australian Oasis and Kali Lodge. Love: Shortly before dawn. In Temple on 3rd Street. Crossroads in Air. Offerings of heat to Marassa, Mort, & Mysteries. Call to Kali. Pulling in her presence for the area. Success: Firm current. Comment: Sensed Kali's presence as Erzulie Ge Rouge. The red eyes burn with the fires needed to cleanse the old. I was sick during the rite. Fever, etc. Possibly the fever (internal fire) is a cleansing agent for me. As above, So Below... as within so without. A rite to cause such change in an external manner could call for internal change as an assertion of balance. I entered the temple in darkness and walked into it from the light of day. (As I type this it is two weeks after the ritual. One event of possible connection is the criminal conviction of the city official I personally view to be most destruc- tive. In calling Kali I gave no charge as to specific action. Simply a "manifestation for change." It is interest- ing to note that the newspaper made much of the appearance of the officials eyes during the conviction. Stating that they showed the effects of crying. This mirrors the red eyes of the Erzulie who came during the rite.) OCEANIA OASIS O.T.O. ==================== THE RITE OF KALI: a personal overview. Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. The Rite of Kali was celebrated by Oceania Oasis O.T.O. on Feb. 8, 1992 e.v. at 8:30 pm. It took place at our local Neighbourhood Centre Hall & was attended by at least 40 people. The idea was to have a small & wild, word of mouth & participants only affair. Although it ended up being not that small, by the end of the night most people were partaking in the celebration of a free-form "voudoun" jam session & the dichotomy between "audience" & "participants" dissolved. From the feedback we received after the perform- ance it appeared that a lot of people wanted to join in but thought their involvement may be an intrusion on the circle drawn at the opening of the Rite. From a dramatic & magical perspective this gives us something to go on for the future, this being the first "home-grown" performance the Oasis has done, yet part of a continuing series of explorations we are undergoing as a group--internally for the dynamic and externally to whomsoever is interested in kicking out the jams with us. The Rite was time synchronised with a Kali Lodge Kali working which (as we found out with the first annual synchronised Gnostic Masses with the Norway Lodge) certainly adds to the astral/magical force of the event. Our collaborations (& collaborators) were not limited to O.T.O. initiates, accompanying us were several musicians, a notable Performance Art Group (who travelled to Sydney for the event) & a web of other people, smoke machines, drummers, screamers & kindred spirits. At present a video tape of the event is being edited and we'll be sending Kali Lodge one when its ready. The exploration into the audio visual is also new and thus from an approximately 3 1/2 hour Rite there's 1/2 hour of potent TV viewing. Better than Twin Peaks. The Rite took several months to organize, & although essentially dependent on free-form improvisation, was held together by an inspired interpretation of LAShTAL. It was a thelemic investigation of the realms of the Goddess which by definition, incorporated the first "paradox" of philosophy, enabling a multi-cellular group organism to successfully work together. During the months of investigative invocation invocation by a select few, various phenomena arose which (as the "receiver" of the format and idea of the Rite, organiser and Master of the Oasis) I found personally significant. Several participants went on "pilgrimages" so to speak & returned with new and interested associates, and truly inspired "illuminations" of the Rite, the Goddess and their unique role in it. The verse, poetry and theatric interpretations prepared & executed on the night bore ample witness, & supported a personal maxim: Do a little research & save a lot of magick. Kali was, however, true to form & burdensome phenomena also arose. As the destroyer of obstacles, it was a period of time where obstacles of internal and external natures were thrown in our faces and exposed in full colour. Several climaxed prior to the Rite & it was the test of our individual thoughts, actions & will which marked the purity of the invocation & our beings from those that would seek to shave our golden wings. Within the "tantrums" & "turmoil" came a truth of exposition which is bliss, and the Oasis unfolds and develops in contrast to the derision of any fleeting amoebic presence which seeks to hamper & thwart. Interestingly, the night was marked by torrential (& unseasonal) rain which perhaps washed in the celebrants! Kali is the monsoon, destroying in order to create & sustain growth. Here then, is our Rite: Music going on throughout. L. Liber Yod. "Group" consciousness brought to "the one". The hell-broth lit. A. The one perceives the mysteries of "Space" and "Time". The spiralling emanations of Goddess announce their realm. Libations passed around for within this comprehension is drunkeness of the innermost sense. ShT. The Fire-Snake rises from the flames of the hell- broth. The concealed force of Shiva and the innocent devotion of the child. The child recited to the Goddess, climbing the tree of the Mahavidyas, Shiva conceals within the veil, reciting the cry of the 16th Aethyr. From beyond the Tree in the aethyrs is the bliss of the Goddess experienced. The veil is torn, the Black Mother is seen in the spirit of the icon, experienced in the rhythms of dance. A. The one, striving ever unto more, perceives the function of "Time" within "Space", the spirals of understanding are exhalted and beyond. Times stands still & takes a step aside as L. Shiva awakens the dragon of the aethyrs, the Beast that is will upon understanding of "the woman satis- fied", Kali; justice and adjustment. Fire dance spirals to the centre where the will child is delivered from the one to the many. Infinite & finite dissolve. Vel Reguli closes. The Goddess is manifest and communes to us individually through the sounds, cries, rhythms which follow. Scrying through the smoke (We have since gone on to a weekly series of Enochian work with the Aethyrs) I have a natural tendency to metaphysics, which Chen's deadline doesn't allow for. I'm sure you get the picture & I look forward to passing on the vid, & to the voudoun link up May 23. To Chen, Turbator, Icehouse & the web-worlds brotherhood--stay tuned, we'll be seeing you--& don't let the bastards grind you down. Love is the law, love under will. Frater Numa 718 Oceania Oasis Master O.T.O. ___________________________________________________________ KALI by Jet Satin (Extracted from his self-composed script for the Kali Rite) Fuck!!! How Awesome thou art--oh mistress--my mysterious mistress I shall shake and quake for thee for a century, a millenium- still thou art the all-- the eternal sacrament-- I am dirt that makes up the mountain I am a particle of air which the spirit breathes In you there is all--solace--embrace--music--entirety--I race through wind time-space to be with you--and here--here in this domain your children gather--oh multiform spirit whose gaze you wander-- fire from the depths-- this time is so magnificent In your hair is the fabric of star-dust--you cast out every lie until the bare face hangs out--the bare beautiful face soul spirit harmony glide collide with infinitesimal shards of holy glory. In your womb--your sacred chamber--I am all--every sparkle--every fleck -I rise up in your heart--you light my way--happy in your womb -dazzled by your bright start Venus -thrilled by your hard core penis--inherent in you is the male principle -when true so willing to serve your true formula that will make the universe swirl--swirl round--make me dizzy with your feats of glory--passion--fire--spirit lay me bare before a shrine of emerald--RUBY--LAPIS LAZULI- Infest the heavens with your unholy stare--Queen of hell the bright mare riding through night--unbearably bright--fucking up mundane thoughts of peers and place until all settles in your divine grace--cut-cut-cut away the bonds and fragments of time that imprison the majority in their mediocrity--let the thrill and spasm of your dance catch fire in the splendid dance that caught Shiva unaware beneath your feet-- without a care he found rivers of consciousness flowing out his brain--the bare reality--unframed--art spills out and with a shout arrives--"we're here" Time is--writ all over the graffitti streets--I AM IN LOVE--IN LOVE WITH THEE--thy greatness surpasses eternity--through the hordes and hosts and ranks of heaven--through the holy number which adds to seven--through the gates and perils of infinity--I lay me down--offer my crown--my blood--my sap--all my being--I am a spark in the void which you embody--oh slut of hell--oh unholy folly--I am all I am--am all I see and all you be is all I need--I devote my love--my soul my seed my honour-- born of lust in your eternal rapture--bury me well oh bride of hell and I shall cast my only spell--made for you in this holy moment--from the dust of the cosmos and the seed of ferment. ----------- There is silence in this place--and it is of you ----------- Hush--I see shadows leaking--and they are of you ----------- Leak into the night space-- They are of you. ____________________________________________________________ ┌───────────────┐ │ ONE ASPECT... │ └───────────────┘ I offered to meet Alyssa right after her appointment. I knew how she'd be feeling. Most of the restaurants were closed in our off-season tourist town, but we found one place and settled in. I was still waiting to hear my own test results and was hiding my fears, because Alyssa had enough to bear. Her mother had also died of breast cancer, and now her sister had it, too. Alyssa had been living with, and caring for her father, since his stroke, shortly after her mother's death. "I have to," she'd been saying simply for the last 5 years. What I planned to do for her on this day, was give her the chance to be with someone who cared. If you tell me about yours," she'd said, "I'll feel like I can tell you about mine." I'd agreed. But she didn't need to know the level of my terror. The images of my mother appearing unbidden in my mind. My mother nauseous and sick with "chemo". My mother raw with radiation burns. The holes where she used to have arm muscles and breasts, the science fiction transformation, when some doctor decided to give her male hormones, because her female hormones were the "problem". The bloating from the cortezone. The machine they strapped her into after an operation to prevent bed sores. How many operations had there been? Wasn't the whole hospital like one relentless machine? A meat grinder. I had to get past the torturous memories. I told Alyssa about my 1'st awareness of my breasts when I was developing. I remembered how delightful and warm they felt when I tucked my knees up to my chest. I remember, also, the old elevator man who poked at my breasts and prodded them with his bent fingers. They were young and tender and it hurt. It hurt also to see my sister's terrified face as she pressed against the back of the elevator. Now my breasts had bruises from the "aspirating" needles the doctor shoved into the hard cysts. I wanted to live. I didn't want anyone coming at me with a scalpel. Alyssa & I made a pact. "Let's not get it," we promised. It was then she pointed out the place was full of women. No men. Just women and small children. Some of the women I knew (it's a small town). We looked around, saying hello here and there, and I realized one of the women, Susan, was someone I'd heard about. She had a particularly fast-moving, virulent form of breast cancer. I asked her how she was doing. "Well I'm up and out; it's a good day," she answered. "Tomorrow I go in for more chemotherapy." She talked about how sick it made her for how long. "I guess it has to, or it wouldn't be doing anything to the cancer." "Like labor pains," someone said. All of the women in the room were turned to her, encouraging her to go on. Alyssa said that she and I were "high risk." "We're all high risk," Susan said. She was in the habit of helping others with their feelings. She talked of her husband's difficulties in dealing with her illness, and her 5 yr. old's & 2 yr. old's trouble with it. "I can't take care of them." (It sounded like the hardest part of all for her.) "I get too sick. I just have to do what I can for myself. I'm just taking in the love people give me and trying to survive." We talked on. All of us. We understood her. We gave her the chance to vent her feelings. We learned from her. She expressed our anger that women have to face these statistics, that so many of us are dying, and that our society seems to accept this price that we are paying for the way we all live, producing pollution and other stresses on an unparalleled level. We told her she was not alone. We felt unified. Any one of us might be facing her trial next. While she went to the bathroom, we signed up on her friend's schedule for bringing meals, for taking care of her children. Alyssa & I hugged each other before we parted. We don't know that we have cancer, we'll deal with it as best we can. Meanwhile, let's just live. Neither of us has cancer, now. Our test results were both o.k. We both still have lumps and have to return every three months to the surprisingly considerate male doctor who operates on women's breasts here. Susan is still receiving as much chemotherapy as she can stand. She and her family still need help. In the month since we met, two more women friends of mine have just gone through similar cancer scares. We're still angry. We have to figure out our own personal balances between trying to devote energy to learning about this, doing something about it, and just living. With daily reminders, we must live with our fear, and the fears of those who love us. Just one aspect of the female experience in 1992. Soror Nancy ____________________________________________________________ ┌──────────┐ │ BUSINESS │ └──────────┘ by C.R. Torrey J. P. Stewart, importer, financier, entrepreneur, one time pornographer and drug dealer, was shown into the bishop's office without delay. As he entered the sumptuously decorated office, J.P. was met and graciously greeted by the bishop, a man of portly middling height and balding pate. "I'm so glad you could come today Mr. Stewart. Please sit down, won't you?" J.P. allowed the inane pleasantries to pass as he settled himself into one of the two high backed, leather chairs located in front of the bishop's capacious mahogany desk. Despite his tall, rugged frame, the chair fit J. P. comfortably. "So, Mr. Stewart," said the bishop, "perhaps it would be best if we got right down to business?" "By all means," J. P. returned smilingly. "Very good." The bishop paused momentarily, his expres- sion slightly nonplused, before continuing. "The reason I've asked you here is really a simple one. We've talked several times before. In fact, you approached me on the first occasion, if you recall. So far we haven't been able to reach a consensus. I want to change that." " I couldn't agree with you more, your grace." The bishop cleared his throat before speaking. "Holy Mother Church wants you back. You were born in the church. Your dear mother raised you in the church. You belong with us. Let me help you. Let Holy Mother Church help you. Tell me how I can ease your return to the fold." And now to the kill, thought J.P.. "Your grace. Of course I want to return to the fold (not to mention gain the support I need from you in order to secure my mayoral candidacy). After rethinking everything, I've decided there's really only one thing holding me back." "And what is that--my son?" the bishop asked, a benevo- lent smile beginning to spread across his ruddy countenance. "It's the condition of tithing. Ten percent of my gross personal income is just too much. I'm being pressed right now from other quarters. I am prepared, however, to offer seven and a quarter percent of my gross, payable quarterly." The bishop's beatific expression fled, replaced by a combination of indignation and worry. "But Mr. Stewart, the tithe isn't something bargained over. It's a holy command- ment of God. By its very definition it means a tenth part. No one question of that!" J.P., without losing the tone of confidence in his voice, said, "Come, come, your grace, everything is negotiable. The salary I receive from my corporation is negotiable; so too should be a tithe from it. This is a new age, an age of financial options...options with a new vocabulary and new values. Surely you won't turn me down on a mere technical- ity? I know the church is under heavy financial burdens. Your new cathedral has barely begun construction. And let's not forget the mission you run downtown. It must be a con- siderable drain on your resources. This seven and a quarter percent would be a great help to you, the answer to your prayers. Many parishioners offer little or nothing. I'm offering a large sum! To show my good intentions, I've come prepared to offer you one hundred thousand dollars in earnest money." At this point, J. P. smoothly reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a check. Without ceremony, he placed the pre-filled bank draft face up on the desk. He sat quietly until the bishop had picked up the check and looked it over, excitement registering in his eyes. When the timing was right, J. P. continued, "Would you turn me away over a question of scriptural interpretation?" A pained expression crossed the bishop's face, inner turmoil obviously tearing him in two directions. Finally, he drew a breath and said, "This 'scriptural interpre- tation', as you put it, Mr. Stewart, has the sanction of thousands of years of theological tradition behind it. It's impossible. I can't make any concessions about the tithe. To do so would put your very soul at risk." "Your grace, don't you think my soul's at greater risk if I fail to come back to the church at all? Wouldn't it be better to come part way back now than to put it off and risk never coming back?" "I'm sure your reasoning seems perfectly sensible to you, Mr. Stewart, but God's not interested in fence sitters. With Him, it's all or nothing. Besides, God blesses the full tithe payers, not only in heaven but on earth as well. Maybe it would help you to think of it as an investment." "What could be, isn't the same as what is, your grace. I'm a business man. I have many outstanding responsibilities and debts of my own. It isn't as simple as you make it out to be. The bottom line is, I just can't afford to pay ten percent. Surely God understands. For that matter, who's to say the money I've invested in society wasn't a tithing of sorts. Perhaps I've been paying a tithe for years. Look at all the jobs I've created through the investment of my capital. I've helped people to own a piece of the American dream!" "Listen, I'm willing to reasonable. I'll even go another quarter percent. Seven and a half is more than generous. It can do a lot of good for the church." "I'm touched by your good works and intentions, Mr. Stewart. They do you credit. What you say is true. You've done much for society. Without men such as yourself, our great country wouldn't enjoy the immense bounty it now does. What you do and have done is all a part of God's plan. He wouldn't have made you so influential if it weren't. However, God, in His wisdom, has decreed that we should give back to him a tenth part of the blessings He has showered upon us. Through the Scriptures we are clearly shown that the tithe is a consecrated sacrament. It can't be altered or changed at man's whim. Who are you or I to think we know better than God what we can or can't afford?" Pleased with his inspired oratory the bishop beamed with kindly benevolence. He failed to note the frown spreading across his guest's face. For his own part, J. P. was none too happy about the bishop's recalcitrance. Finally he asked, "And if it's not possible for me to come up with all the money, are you saying I will definitely not be considered a member in good standing?" "Come, come, Mr. Stewart. Don't make us out to sound so mercenary! It's not so much the amount of money, it's the principle of the thing. Tithing is a commandment of the Lord. I'm not the one who requires this of you, God does." J. P. allowed a hint of barely controlled anger to creep into his voice. "What makes you think I haven't already reconciled my offer with God? Who can say He didn't send me to you with this offer?" "Nonsense, Mr. Stewart. Why would he give others the commandment of the tithe and suddenly change his mind for you? He just doesn't work that way." "I've heard churchmen themselves say God works in mysterious ways." "No man is privy to God's thoughts and actions, but He gave us His commandments to follow without deviation. We just can't pick and choose between them to suit our fancies. We must accept them as they were given to us. In this way only can we hope to find favor in His eyes." Suddenly, the repartee and posturing J. P. usually enjoyed, grew tiresome. The bishop was either far shrewder and craftier than he had given him credit for, or far more obtuse. Unwilling to seem desperate, J. P. decided it was time to cut the meeting short. "Your grace, we both agree it's time for me to return to the 'fold', but we both also know there are many folds out there. Perhaps I was wrong in thinking this was the right one for me." J. P. stood, stretching out his hand to retrieve the check the bishop was still holding. After taking it back, he turned, and, without another word, headed for the office door. While reaching for its ornate handle, he heard the bishop speak hurriedly behind him. J. P. smiled secretly to himself. The import magnate turned back to face the cleric, an expectant look in his eyes. The bishop, somewhat embar- rassed, repeated his last words while simultaneously attempting to recover his composure. "Nine percent, Mr. Stewart, and that's my final offer!" The End ____________________________________________________________ KALI LODGE KALENDAR APRIL Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. We're back. Sunday, April 5th: Pathworking--Art. At the Artsy-Fartsy Lodge. 6:00 p.m. Bring a drum & get creative. Wed/Thu/Fri, April 8th-10th: It's that time of year again. We'll do something: Light candles, read aloud, eat dessert, & enjoy Life Light Liberty & Love-- Sunday, April 12th: Nochie Voodoo seance in the Forbidden Zone with the green and puce guys. 6 p.m. in the Temple. Sunday, April 19th: Loa Ritual--Maza. Bring a drum and something lunar to feed the Loa. 10 p.m. Sunday, April 26th: Gnostic Mass. 6 p.m. in the Temple. $2.00 donation which will be put to the "Next Year in Australia fund." Always call first to make sure we haven't forgotten, or won the lottery and split. Love is the law, love under will. -Chen -oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo-