I'm in the strange position of knowing that there's something on my mind, but being out of my mind just enough to hide that thing from view. Perhaps it's an effect of watching the RNC. I find myself wondering about the financial and political feasibility of implementing a surveillance network in my head.
The archaic discusion on chaos magic has stirred up old concerns, long buried. It's appropriate in its way. I suppose that there's some poetry in that, somewhere.
It's been some time since I've engaged in any discussion of that subject. I feel that I may have come off as a knowledgeable individual. I don't consider myself to be in that category. I know some of the historical perspective, yes, but that's a different thing.
I think that the most dangerous aspect of esoteric practice (how I hate that term, but what would be better?) is the inclination to think that we know what we're talking about. Truth itself isn't dangerous; it pales in risk compared to the belief that we've found it. This, in esoteric circles, leads to the most dangerous idea of all: that we should be followed, or that we should reside in the position called "authority on," or (worst of all) that we are in a position to advise or teach.
In Kult, one of the character roles in the gamebook was the burnt-out occultist. That brought on the inner laughs; it was the most accurate portrayal I had seen at the time.
For those who have read my comments: I am full of it. Take what I say and what I write with a salt flat of your choosing. There's no truth in those words. I disclaim myself and devow any association with the individual making those statements. I don't know me, and I am happy in that state.
One of these days I should remind myself that this need to apologize and justify is unnecessary. I chalk it up to the unresolved and the charge still residing in the capacitors of past trauma.
Oh, the bliss that would come with discharge!
(And Oh, the satisfaction that would come with a bit of spare cash! If memory serves, the collector's release of Videodrome was released today. I could use a bit of O'Blivion.)
I ramble.
The archaic discusion on chaos magic has stirred up old concerns, long buried. It's appropriate in its way. I suppose that there's some poetry in that, somewhere.
It's been some time since I've engaged in any discussion of that subject. I feel that I may have come off as a knowledgeable individual. I don't consider myself to be in that category. I know some of the historical perspective, yes, but that's a different thing.
I think that the most dangerous aspect of esoteric practice (how I hate that term, but what would be better?) is the inclination to think that we know what we're talking about. Truth itself isn't dangerous; it pales in risk compared to the belief that we've found it. This, in esoteric circles, leads to the most dangerous idea of all: that we should be followed, or that we should reside in the position called "authority on," or (worst of all) that we are in a position to advise or teach.
In Kult, one of the character roles in the gamebook was the burnt-out occultist. That brought on the inner laughs; it was the most accurate portrayal I had seen at the time.
For those who have read my comments: I am full of it. Take what I say and what I write with a salt flat of your choosing. There's no truth in those words. I disclaim myself and devow any association with the individual making those statements. I don't know me, and I am happy in that state.
One of these days I should remind myself that this need to apologize and justify is unnecessary. I chalk it up to the unresolved and the charge still residing in the capacitors of past trauma.
Oh, the bliss that would come with discharge!
(And Oh, the satisfaction that would come with a bit of spare cash! If memory serves, the collector's release of Videodrome was released today. I could use a bit of O'Blivion.)
I ramble.