O how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes favors! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, that sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, more pangs and fears than wars or women have, and when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, never to hope again.
– William Shakespeare
Went to a wonderful party this weekend, at Ann & Andrews’ Clanstead over in NE Portland. Our dear mutual friend Irina is soon departing Portland, for greener pastures in beautiful Olympia Wa., where she has taken a job with the state. Ann and Andrew laid out a wonderful table, and it was a night of toasting Irina, talking, laughter and joy. We will all miss her!
I just finished seeing that the art show at the Clinton Corner Cafe was being set up in a marvelous fashion by Charlie the proprietor. He was very excited about the prints, and was practically dancing around the cafe arranging the art. Great place, sweet people, truly a haven in the great SE of Portland.
A sad note for the neighborhood: The Red and Black Cafe is gone, and there goes a bit of history over on Division. I enjoyed the R n B immensely when my friend Morgan was helping run it. It was the place that Rowan gave his first poetry reading, and there was always, always something cool going on there. It will be missed!
Mike Hoffman stopped by Sunday, and gifted us with a copy of his new poetry book: “Dawn is Streaking Red” Pattern’s of Perception, Emotion, and Language We will be featuring poetry from it tomorrow! Good going Mike!
So… stay tuned, Invisible College almost there, Art Show is happening… and we will preview 3 poems from Mikes’ new poetry book. It looks like a good week!
On The Menu:
Westboro Baptist Does ‘Gaybar’
The Boreal Crown and The Downfall of Civilization
Frank O’Hara Poems…
Art: Depictions of Lucifer…
Luciferian Quotes: or where old Lucy does not get his due….
(For Timbo over at The West Cork Writers, Anarchist, and Knitting Society…)
“Of all the inhabitants of the inferno, none but Lucifer knows that hell is hell, and the secret function of purgatory is to make of heaven an effective reality.”
“On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose. / Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend.
– George Meredith
Unhappy spirits that fell with Lucifer, / Conspired against our God with Lucifer, / And are for ever damned with Lucifer.
– Christopher Marlowe
The first sin in our universe was Lucifer’s self conceit.
– Thomas Carlyle
You might, from your appearance, be the wife of Lucifer. Nevertheless, you shall not get the better of me. I am an Englishwoman.
– Charles Dickens
Westboro Baptist Does ‘Gaybar’
The Boreal Crown and The Downfall of Civilization
In 1808 the illuminated theorist and “Utopian Socialist” Charles Fourier launched the first fully realized and consciously revolutionary attack on CIVILIZATION by publishing his Theory of the Four Movements in France. No one noticed — any more than anyone noticed the books of William Blake, the only thinker of the era comparable to Fourier. In this brief text we cannot attempt a full report of Fourier´s brilliant utopian system of society, which he called HARMONY. But we could at least recall his programme involved the reorganization of human life into large groups, called Phalanxes, arranged in “Series” according to “Attraction” — that is, according to shared “Passions”. For Fourier, Passion was the sole possible organizing principe for utopian life. In brief: if everyone were free always to do exactly what they desire, all reason for social discord would vanish. Scarcity of any good — material, spiritual, erotic — can only be artificially imposed on society by CIVILIZATION, For Nature is naturally “generous”. Marriage, poverty, work, morality, loneliness, alienation, violence, boredom — these civilized miseries constitute the perverse results of a system which benefits a few at the expense of the health of Earth herself.
Fourier believed not only that humans are the desiring subjects of a desirable object (i.e., Terrestial Harmony), but also that the Earth and all other celestial bodies (planets, stars, etc.) are also living, sentient, desiring beings. The “force of attraction” that holds the universe(s) together can only be described as Passion, Erotic desire organizes not only the microcosm of human society but also the macrocosm (e.g., our solar system) in mandala of Harmony — the “Lineaments of gratified desire” as Blake would say.
Thus everything, quite literally everything, is moved solely by erotic attraction. In Harmony we shall work only at that which satisfies a Passion — and we shall be free to choose “Attractive Labor” — and since humans are inherently passionate beings, Harmonian economics will replace the illusion of scarcity with the reality of super-abundance. Everyone will be “rich. Everyone will eat like a 18th century french gourmet (but the food will be healthy because it will be prepared according to the Harmonian science of Gastrosophy) — and everyone will enjoy at least “utopian minimum” of erotic pleasure. This immense intensification of animal/animate life will soon produce beneficial mutations even of the human body: — we shall need only a few hours of sleep per night, we shall grow taller and more beautiful, and within a few generations we shall each have a tail with an extra “hand” at the tip, and an extra eye in the palm of the hand . Moreover the climate will change and the seas will turn something like lemonade. Most of these changes will occur not through evolution and its endless eons, but almost immediately, spontaneously, virtually overnight — as soon as we abandon CIVILIZATION and institute HARMONY in its stead.
One reason why these changes will occur so rapidly can be explained by the fact that Civilization has literally knocked Earth out of its true position in the cosmos. normally, since stars and planets are sexual beings, they enjoy sexual intercourse. Their sex organs — so to speak — consist of great cosmic rays (which Fourier calls “aromal rays”); celestial bodies project these rays at one another and thereby experience the bliss of fertilizing potency of erotic contact. In former times Earth also possessed an aromal ray and enjoyed its benefits — which manifested in the peace and plenty, gender harmony and sexual freedom of the hunting/gathering (or gardening) economy of the Old Stone Age. But Civilization disrupted the aromal ray. Earth lost its orgasmic potential. As Wilhelm Reich would put it, Earth was cut off from the cosmic source of orgone energy; Civilization equals sexual repression and erotic scarcity.
Now clearly, if human society were to overcome the malign local effect of civilization and institute the Harmonial Era, our planet would at once recover its cosmic sexuality and its aromal ray. Immediately Earth would bathed again the perfume or illumination or jizm of the stars. Revivifying effects would begin to appear almost at once, and the initial eforts of the first Harmonians would be rewarded a thousand-fold through the vast new reservoirs or cosmic energy now available via Earth aromal ray.
in Theory of the Four Movements Fourier also revealed that Earth´s aromal ray — or rather its shattered fragments and dispersed remnants — can still be seen in the polar aurorae. the Northern and the Southern Lights (Aurora Borealis and Australis) resemble torn curtains of light. No Wonder! At one time they constituted coherent rays of brilliant color abd scebt which penetrated the yoni of the aether like an infinite lingam, and served as the pathway and vaginal gate for the infusion of subtle illumination-juices from everywhere in the multiverse. [ Incidentelly, this theory could be used to suggest that UFO´s are not extraterrestrial but consist in fact of local manifestations of “deadly orgone”, just as Reich feared]
Now it has occured to us that if the downfall of Civilization and the establishment of Harmony would result in the restauration of the “Boreal Crown” (as Fourier called it) to full coherence, then perhaps the opposite might also prove true. THE RESTAURATION OF THE BOREAL CROWN MIGHT RESULT IN THE DOWNFALL OF CIVILIZATION AND THE TRIUMPH OF HARMONY.
We believe it´s worth trying . But the big question facing us is — obviously — how? How does one go about repairing the Aurora Borealis?! If we knew the answer to the question we´d simply go and do it. The purpose of this text is to share our findings so far and to propose a framework for future research and action. We are convinced that this project will necesserly involve a certain amount of coordinated action by a great many people. We envision participation at many levels. Moreover, we have no intention of acting as the center of this participation. We prefer to remain anonymous, and it is possible that our specific actions will be carried out more-or-less clandestinely. We will publish no address; so if you want to share ideas with us please send texts to the publication in which this communique appears – or else find out who we are by word of mouth and contact us directly.
So far, we have arrived at the following understanding. The popular aurorae are connected in some way with the with the magnetic poles rather than the geographic poles. The North Magnetic Pole is currently the more accessible of the two, since it is currently moving very slowly across northern Canada. As of this writing it is near Barthurst Island. The latitude of peak auroral activity is actually described by an oval ring whos center is a few degrees off the magnetic pole in the direction of midnight. [See maps -Ed.]. The lights glow most intensely during magnetic storms, caused by an increase in the solar wind interacting with Earth´s magnetic field. At such times the auroral oval grows both southwards and toward the pole. The greatest auroral activity occurs at the peaks of the eleven-year sun-spot cycle, one of which, unfortunately, has just passed in the last year or two. It should be possible, nonetheless, to determine certain times and spaces at which our chance of acting on the Boreal Crown would be optimal. For example, if we determined that our action should take place at the magnetic place, we would calculate a time when weather conditions and geomagnetic activity would coincide to offer a maximal “window of opportunity”. If we decided that o
ur actions should occur within the auroral oval, then a different set of space/time parameters would come into play.
Besides the questions of time and place we also face the question of effective action. At present we believe that we should consider the probable necessity of installing one or more “aromal devices” at one or more key points connected with the auroral/magnetic activity. These aromal devices should be considered “machines” for the repair and restoration of the Boreal Crown. At present we remain uncertain about the design of such devices; but we intend to build at least one, and to install it at the chosen time and place. We hope that other groups and individuals will work on their own theories and also produce their own devices. Then, when a time and place have been determined, we will make this information publicly known. We will proceed to carry out an expedition, let´s say, to the Magnetic North Pole, timed to arrive at a certain day or period of days. We hope that others will launch their own simultaneous expeditions and that we will all rendezvous at the appointed moment and location. There and then we will carry out all our planned installation, actions, rituals, etc., together, inthe context of FESTIVAL.
Obviously a certain element of psychic technology enters into this project — and it is precisly on this psychic and “astral” level that many wish to participate in the action. Energy can be added to the activities of the Arctic expeditions (and to the acual installations or aromal devices) by the though projections and sympathetic actions of supporters and well-wishers all over the globe. We consider the possibility of a GENERAL STRIKE on the day of the festival, as the vital component of the operation. Everyone who cannot be with us at the installation of the site can carry out some symbolic and/or material action against Civilization, against Work, against oppression, boredom and alienation. This might consist of nothing more than wearing a symbol of the Festival (button, badge, flower, color, scent, etc.). Some participiants might simply wish to take a day off work and loll around, thinking about the Northern Lights. Group might want to organize actual strikes or demonstrations against miseries of Civilization, and in favor for Attractive Labor or the Utopian Minimum. Artists and creative groups might errect sympathetic installations or perform supportive rituals, whereever they might happan to be at the appointed hour.
Our project at present calls for the further refinement of all these ideas, and for their wides at possible dissemination. These tasks are perhaps best carried out by many groups and individuáls simultaneously and more-or-less anonymously, so that the best ideas and images will have a chance to circulate by word of mouth and by various informal networks. In this way they will have a chance to take a life on their own and to circulate under their own power, so to speak, in a natural, organic manner. In order to succeed this Festival and General Strike needs to belong to everyone and anyone. Already this text is the product of a group — a group that believes that its ideas will sink or soar solely according to the degree of Attraction they radiate. The one central idea of the idea is the restoration of the Boreal Crown to its primordial coherence as Earth´s aromal ray; around this center the event must come into being spontaneously, like the mandala of a snowflake, like atrue holiday, like an uprising. The event therefore, must create itself.
We might, however, speculate in more detail about our vision of the aromal device or machine for repairing Aurora. Certain themes have already been touched on, and we expcet the full structure of the device to precipitate and crystallize around this or other related themes: Magnetism, the Sun, the Earth´s magneto tail, magnets (the first compass was amagnetized needle floated in water), “animal magnetism”, sexual attraction, sexual fluids, aromas, perfumes, colors, lights, the North, the Arctic, hunting, gardening, the Old Age, night, stars, te North Star, the Moon (measurement of time), clocks, gold, crystal, ice, rays, coherent light, curtains and ribbons of light, heraldic emblems (symbols of the events) such as flowers, colors, geometric shapes, hieroglyphs, banners, music, dance, ritual, arctic shamanism, the Millennium, the end of Civilization, restoration of Harmony, peace, brilliance, delicious food and drink, transformation, the esoteric, the clandestine, the hidden, mutation, orgy, the erotic manias, performance, opera, alchemy, the mythology and the folkloire of the Northern Lights, mental energy, the visualization of coherent light as aroma, energy from the stars, orgone, blue, mirrors, maps, invocations…….
Imagine a “machine” with such “moving parts”, miniaturized to the size of a small box, taken to the North Pole, installed — and activated. Imagine it as a focus for the concentrated desire of a world sickened by Civilization — work, oppression — a vast desire channeled into one image: the Boreal Crown in full glory — and one goal: the downfall of Civilization. In combination: a Festival of Light.
How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations! / For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north: / I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High.
Frank O’Hara Poems…
Alone at night
in the wet city
the country’s wit
is not memorable.
The wind has blown
all the trees down
but these anxieties
remain erect, being
the heart’s deliberate
chambers of hurt
and fear whether
from a green apartment
seeming diamonds or
from an airliner
seeming fields. It’s
not simple or tidy
though in rows of
rows and numbered;
the literal drifts
the hair is combed
with bridges, all
to stardom and lights.
If alone I am
able to love it,
the serious voices,
the panic of jobs,
it is sweet to me.
Far from burgeoning
verdure, the hard way
in this street.
The Day Lady Died
It is 12:20 in New York a Friday
three days after Bastille day, yes
it is 1959 and I go get a shoeshine
because I will get off the 4:19 in Easthampton
at 7:15 and then go straight to dinner
and I don’t know the people who will feed me
I walk up the muggy street beginning to sun
and have a hamburger and a malted and buy
an ugly NEW WORLD WRITING to see what the poets
in Ghana are doing these days
I go on to the bank
and Miss Stillwagon (first name Linda I once heard)
doesn’t even look up my balance for once in her life
and in the GOLDEN GRIFFIN I get a little Verlaine
for Patsy with drawings by Bonnard although I do
think of Hesiod, trans. Richmond Lattimore or
Brendan Behan’s new play or Le Balcon or Les Nègres
of Genet, but I don’t, I stick with Verlaine
after practically going to sleep with quandariness
and for Mike I just stroll into the PARK LANE
Liquor Store and ask for a bottle of Strega and
then I go back where I came from to 6th Avenue
and the tobacconist in the Ziegfeld Theatre and
casually ask for a carton of Gauloises and a carton
of Picayunes, and a NEW YORK POST with her face on it
and I am sweating a lot by now and thinking of
leaning on the john door in the 5 SPOT
while she whispered a song along the keyboard
to Mal Waldron and everyone and I stopped breathing
So we are taking off our masks, are we, and keeping
our mouths shut? as if we’d been pierced by a glance!
The song of an old cow is not more full of judgment
than the vapors which escape one’s soul when one is sick;
so I pull the shadows around me like a puff
and crinkle my eyes as if at the most exquisite moment
of a very long opera, and then we are off!
without reproach and without hope that our delicate feet
will touch the earth again, let alone “very soon.”
It is the law of my own voice I shall investigate.
I start like ice, my finger to my ear, my ear
to my heart, that proud cur at the garbage can
in the rain. It’s wonderful to admire oneself
with complete candor, tallying up the merits of each
of the latrines. 14th Street is drunken and credulous,
53 rd tries to tremble but is too at rest. The good
love a park and the inept a railway station,
and there are the divine ones who drag themselves up
and down the lengthening shadow of an Abyssinian head
in the dust, trailing their long elegant heels of hot air
crying to confuse the brave “It’s a summer day,
and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world.”
A Quiet Poem
When music is far enough away
the eyelid does not often move
and objects are still as lavender
without breath or distant rejoinder.
The cloud is then so subtly dragged
away by the silver flying machine
that the thought of it alone echoes
unbelievably; the sound of the motor falls
like a coin toward the ocean’s floor
and the eye does not flicker
as it does when in the loud sun a coin
rises and nicks the near air. Now,
slowly, the heart breathes to music
while the coins lie in wet yellow sand.
“Lucifer, the Son of the Morning! Is it he who bears the Light, and with its splendors intolerable blinds feeble, sensual, or selfish Souls? Doubt it not!”