Robert Anton Wilson: The Lost Studio Session | Mutate

Robert Anton Wilson: The Lost Studio Session

First recorded in Chicago in 1994, this previously unreleased audio session with the renowned Robert Anton Wilson has been stored away for fifteen years…and almost lost entirely. If Bob knew how many synchronicities surround the rediscovery and release of this “lost” studio session, he would be chuckling in that half jolly, half mischievous way of his. If you believe in any kind of afterlife, maybe you can imagine him laughing right now. I like that image: Bob the laughing Buddha, still having one over on us from the great beyond.

Available from Original Falcon

 

I want this bag.

Polanski and Kubrick: Two occult tales | Boing Boing

 Archives Eyeswideshut Redemption
Jacques Vallee is a computer scientist, partner in a venture capital firm, and author of more than 20 books, including Passport to Magonia: From Folklore to Flying Saucers, The Invisible College, and The Network Revolution.

In our age of rational science the occult has never been more in demand: Angels and demons are popular, the Da Vinci code and lost symbols fascinate audiences worldwide and Hollywood is eager to turn out more movies with a paranormal theme. So why is it that so many of these stories seem flat, and fail to reach the level of insight into hidden structures of the world true esoteric adventures are supposed to promise?

 Images N Ninth-Gate-800-75Perhaps the answer has to do with the failure of gifted directors to come to grips with the enormity of the unknown issues of human destiny, or to pose the fundamental questions their esoteric subject would demand. We go away charmed by artistic visions, dazzled by the pageantry of cardinals in red capes and titillated by women in black garters but the Illuminati only scare us because of the blood they spill, not the existential issues they should transcend. They behave like any other gang of thugs, even if they utter their rough curses in Latin rather than street slang, cockney or modern Italian.

The circumstances that made this point clear to me arose when I watched again two movies within a few days, namely Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut and Roman Polanski's The Ninth Gate.

I was struck by the suspicious similarities and the enormous differences between them. In earlier viewings both had thrilled me with the superb photography, the great acting, and the expansive landscapes. A second experience made me wonder about the themes themselves: the contrast was striking. The story line of Eyes wide shut turns out to be not only unbelievable but downright silly. It could be summed up as "Handsome young millionaire doctor tries to get laid in New York for three days and fails!" In the process he has joined a fake black mass and deciphered a few facile occult clues but there is no point to any of it. I do understand that Kubrick, like Umberto Eco in Foucault's Pendulum, was attempting to say something profound about magic and eroticism but he only produced clichés, vague references to tired grimoires and gratuitous gropings: those black garter belts again.

The Polanski movie, in contrast, is dangerous and captivating from the very first frame. It combines a profound understanding of hermeticism with the breathless beauty of a quest for infinity. It completes it with the exquisite aesthetics of an adept who knows what should be exposed and what should remain hidden. Polanski has recognized the power and genuineness of his cause, his story, his landscapes, while Kubrick only exemplifies the well-trained academic intellectual who scrutinizes the magical from the outside and just doesn't get it, flashing the conventional symbols before us like so many obligatory props. Occultism is not science-fiction. The splendid photography doesn't fill the emotional gap.

It was striking to me that both movies took the protagonists to very similar situations and to the same places - the region of Pontoise in fact, so charged for me in magical memories. Should we suspect that the scripts circulated from desk to desk in Hollywood, as is so often the case, and that both stories emerged from a bit of plagiarism? Let's not go that far: perhaps it was simply a case of lucky occult coincidence.

 

2012: Carnival of Bunkum | h+ Magazine

2012 Movie Poster - Photo credit: movieposterdb.com

I like a good apocalypse as much as the next American, which is why I’ll be braving the Stepfordian horrors of the local mall for the opening of 2012, the German director Roland Emmerich’s latest exercise in disaster porn. The trailer is awesome. It’s got John Cusack in a puddle-jumper plane dodging collapsing skyscrapers, John Cusack in a car playing dodge ball with a meteor shower, and John Cusack squealing around a corner on two wheels, yelling, to no one in particular, “When they tell you not to panic, that’s when you run!” Plus, it’s got every New Yorker’s idea of schadenfreude-gasm: California barrel-rolling into the Pacific.

According to the movie’s press packet, Emmerich and his writing partner Harald Kloser got a brainstorm when they learned that “the Mayan calendar is set to reach the end of its 13th cycle on December 21, 2012---and nothing follows that date. [...] ‘You will find millions of people, from all walks of life, who believe that in 2012 there will be some kind of shift in society, or a shift in spirit,’ says Kloser. The scope and variety of theories provided inspiration for Emmerich and Kloser as they penned their screenplay.’”

Millions of people? Really? From all walks of life? Or are we just talking about a few thousand woo-woos whose mental engine blocks have cracked from one too many psychoactive alkaloids? In any event, however many people are investing this arbitrary date with cosmic significance, it’s entirely too many. As a throwaway plot premise for a Hollywood blockbuster, New Age “theories” about The Coming Shift in Global Consciousness (not again!) are harmless chaff. Who cares if every tie-dyed Elmer Gantry working the Esalen hot-tub and Burning Man circuit is predicting ecstasy, or dread, or both, in 2012?

The answer, in brief, is that the stories we tell ourselves, as a culture, do matter. Profoundly. Daniel Pinchbeck, author of 2012: The Return of Quetzalcoatl (the Nahuatl name for the feathered serpent god of the Mesoamerican peoples), is an object lesson in the hidden costs of myth. Bidding fair to become the media face of the 2012 phenomenon, Pinchbeck is a tireless publicist for the global cataclysm and universal outbreak of cosmic consciousness he believes will ensue when the digital alarm-clock numbers click over to 2012.

Which makes him the poster child for all that’s worst about the 2012 craze. Pinchbeck’s feathered serpent-oil salesmanship offers a case study in some of its most pernicious aspects.

First, there’s the gape-mouthed credulity required of true believers in the 2012 prophesies -- the unblinking, irony-free ability to swallow groaners that would make a cow laugh, such as Pinchbeck’s pronouncement that 2012 may beckon us through a psychic portal, into a “multidimensional realm of hyperspace triggered by mass activation of the pineal gland.”

Pinchbeck, like New Age thinkers all the way back to Madame Blavatsky, preaches a refried gospel of ancient wisdom and mystical, supra-rational knowledge. In 2007, he told The New York Times that “the rational, empirical worldview...has reached its expiration date...we’re on the verge of transitioning to a dispensation of consciousness that’s more intuitive, mystical, and shamanic.”

Well, somebody say “Amen”! There’s entirely too much rationalism and empiricism clouding the American mind these days, in a nation where, according to the Harris and other polls, 42% of Republicans are convinced President Obama wasn’t born in the United States, 10% of the nation’s voters are certain he’s a Muslim, and 61% of the population believe in the Virgin birth but only 47% believe in Darwinian evolution.

Placing our faith in ravings about a “multidimensional realm of hyperspace triggered by mass activation of the pineal gland” is a luxury we can no longer afford.

Much of the 2012 shtick is a light-fingered (if leaden-humored) rip-off of the late rave-culture philosopher Terence McKenna’s stand-up routine, without McKenna’s prodigious erudition, effortless eloquence, or arch wit, and Pinchbeck is no exception. For Quetzalcoatl’s sake, if you’re going to start a religion, at least invent your own cosmology. Even L. Ron Hubbard was canny enough to concoct a pulp theology for ham-radio enthusiasts out of leftover SF plots. But every time I see Pinchbeck’s glum mug, regarding the world with a sort of forced bliss, I think: Would you buy a used eschaton from this man? (McKenna, by the way, knew which side his ectoplasm was buttered on. When I asked him, over dinner, why a man of his obvious intellectual nimbleness endured the saucer abductees and trance-channelers who plucked at his sleeve at New Age seminars, he rolled a knowing eye and replied, I thought wearily, that he owed his daily crust to “menopausal mystics” and thus had to suffer them, if not gladly.)

But the worst of the 2012 bandwagon, epitomized by Pinchbeck’s lectures and writings, is the blithe cultural arrogance and staggering anthropological ignorance evident in the movement’s appropriation of Mayan beliefs and history. In a discussion hosted by Pinchbeck’s online magazine Reality Sandwich, the cultural theorist Erik Davis puts his finger on the minstrelsy implicit in the ventriloquization, by white, first-world New Agers, of the Maya. “[I]t seems to me that there is very little concrete sense of what ‘the Mayans’ (whoever that grand abstraction represents) thought about what would happen in the human world on 2012,” he writes. “To my m ind it is kinda disrespectful to the Mayans to force them into our own narrative.”

Mayan CalendarThe technoculture journalist Xeni Jardin sharpens the point of debate. While Jardin is no expert on, or spokesperson for, the Mayan people, she is well-positioned to reveal the 2012 phenomenon for the carnival of bunkum it is. Her adoptive father is “of indigenous descent,” she told me in an e-mail interview, and working with his nonprofit in Guatemala, “doing cultural and philanthropic work” for the country’s indigenous peoples, has brought Jardin into close contact with the Maya. “We work to help these communities sustain their culture and social integrity,” she says, providing microloans and scholarships, working to bring clean drinking water and healthcare to the villages.

When I asked her what she thought of Pinchbeck’s invocation of Mayan beliefs, and of the 2012-ers’ use of the Maya in general, she was blunt. “What makes me angriest about Pinchbeck’s bogus, profiteering bullshit isn’t so much him, but the fact that that many people are racist enough to believe any asshole white guy who declares himself an expert in Mayan culture. Did it ever occur to anyone to ask practicing Maya priests out in the villages? [...] It absolutely enrages me that while people I know in Guatemala, traditional priests, are struggling to figure out how to provide clean drinking water to their families, how to feed their communities, how to avoid being shot by the gangs and thieves that plague the roads more than ever---while they’re struggling to survive and keep their communities intact, assholes like Pinchbeck are making a buck off of white man’s parodies of their culture.”

In a moment worth its weight in black-comedy gold, Jardin told one of the priests in a K’iche village about the New Age’s obsession with 2012 and the ancient Mayan myths that supposedly foretell apocalypse. “I tried to explain to him that a lot of gringos believe that the chol q’ij says that in the Gringo year 2012, the world will end, or rainbows will fly out of a unicorn’s ass, or Mayan space aliens will land on the earth and our chakras will explode,” she says. “I told him they’re making a movie out of it, and how much a movie like that costs to make, and stands to earn. The priest laughed, and said in K’iche, more or less, “Well, that’s gringos for you, what do you expect.” These people are well-accustomed to being exploited and ripped off, and having their cultural rights shit on. That is the tragedy, and what makes me feel such disgust and contempt for the likes of Pinchbeck. They get away with it.”

2012 - End of Days

In his Reality Sandwich remarks, Davis wondered “what is gained by... believing that the wizards of a rather bloody jungle culture foretold our moment of rising C02 levels and suicide bombers.” Point taken. Premonitions of the End of Days and prophecies of a Space Odyssey-like leap in species consciousness, in 2012, are just the same old bedtime story -- a story we never seem to tire of hearing, about the moment (forever forestalled) when there will be “wonders in the heaven above and signs on the earth below,” as the Book of Acts has it -- when the sun will go dark and the moon will turn blood red and time shall be no more. The environmental crises and geopolitical pathologies of our times -- “rising C02 levels and suicide bombers” and the sufferings of the wretched of the Earth, like the Guatemalan Maya -- demand that we step up to our social responsibilities and engage passionately with the issues of our age. Placing our faith in wet-brained ravings about a “multidimensional realm of hyperspace triggered by mass activation of the pineal gland” or “a dispensation of consciousness that’s more intuitive, mystical, and shamanic” is a luxury we can no longer afford. We’re out of time.

 

Lennon, Manson and me: the psychedelic cinema of Alejandro Jodorowsky | The Guardian

The El Topo and Holy Mountain director thrilled the 1970s counter-culture. Now his crazed visions are turning on everyone from Santigold to Kasabian

alejandro-jodorowsky-illustration

Alejandro Jodorowsky. Illustration: William Sweeney

Eyebrows, hopes and ceremonially lit bongs were all raised earlier this year with the news that Alejandro Jodorowsky was finally making another movie. The high priest of head-trip cinema, Jodorowsky blew the collective mind of the counter-culture with a handful of supremely odd movies in the 1970s, such as El Topo and The Holy Mountain, but despite continual promises and rumours, Jodorowsky's long-awaited return never seemed to materialise. In the meantime, his work has been seized upon by a new generation of hipsters desperately seeking out-there inspiration, as we shall see. This year, though, at the Cannes film festival, Jodorowsky announced he had raised the cash for his next movie. It would be called King Shot, and it would be a metaphysical western set in a desert casino, featuring a man the size of King Kong and Marilyn Manson as a 300-year-old pope.

So with some excitement, here's Jodorowsky on the line to tell us about it: "It's not happening. They didn't find the money," he says in his thick South American accent.

Oh. "But, I am making another movie instead! I have signed the contract already with some Russian producers. I will do Son Of El Topo – a sequel. It's a conflict between two brothers who need to come to a solution. I am about to start four months of preparation. I can tell you nothing today."

If you've never seen one of his movies, they're difficult to explain. You could start by throwing together Sergio Leone, Luis Buñuel, Hieronymus Bosch, and Buddha, and perhaps spiking their Kool-Aid for good measure. They're filled with wild beasts, cosmic symbolism, freaks, naked women and spiritual masters. Where else, for example, could you find a re-enactment of the conquest of Latin America with costumed frogs and chameleons? Or a geriatric hermaphrodite squirting milk from breasts that appear to be the heads of ocelots?

You could get away with that sort of thing back then. The original El Topo, made in 1970, was Jodorowsky's breakthrough, a wild mix of spaghetti western and eastern spiritualism. It became a favourite on the American midnight-movie circuit, and among its many fans were John Lennon and Yoko Ono, who persuaded Allen Klein, then the manager of Apple, to buy the rights to it. Lennon also put up $1m for Jodorowsky's next movie, The Holy Mountain, an extravagant psychedelic odyssey about a thief's quest for immortality. But Jodorowsky and Klein later fell out when he refused to make The Story Of O, an erotic movie. In revenge, Klein refused to show Jodorowsky's movies anywhere. The director had a brief resurgence with 1989's Santa Sangre, but otherwise Jodorowsky has languished in obscurity.

'These days a picture only has value if it makes a lot of money. I want to make a picture to lose money'

Alejjandro-Jodorowsky-exhibition

Painting from Alejandro Jodorowsky's latest exhibition

"Movies are a commercial industry," he says. "Today a picture has value if it makes a lot of money. Myself, I declare I want to make a picture to lose money. Really! I want to lose money."

Why's that? "Because it is not the finality of art to make money. Today you make conceptual art. You try to astonish the people, but you are saying nothing deeper for the human soul. Nothing! I always think that art is a form of sacrifice." By now, it should be becoming clear why Jodorowsky has had such a hard time making another movie: as well as being unorthodox, he's utterly uncompromising. "You can search in order to find the way, or you can just wait for it to come to you. For example, Bodhidharma came to China from India and the only thing he did was to sit in front of a wall meditating and waiting for his disciples. And they came after eight years."

Jodorowsky has never been one to sit still. He seems to have led a life as incident-filled and incredible as one of his movies. A Russian Jew who grew up in Chile and Paris, his career spans the Surrealist movement, mime, experimental theatre happenings, psychedelia, comic books and mystical therapy, and takes in figures such as Marcel Marceau, Dennis Hopper, Salvador Dalí, and Marilyn Manson, to name but a few. He's now 80 years old, although he seems a good deal younger, which he puts down to his lifelong abstinence from alcohol, tobacco, coffee or an y other drug. Not to mention his 37-year-old girlfriend, an artist named Pascale Montandon. Writing comic books is still his principal way of making a living.

'Marilyn Manson is a very delicate, intelligent person. I see him a lot but he's always in disguise'

El topo el topo Annee 1971

Scene from Jodorowsky's El Topo (1971). Photograph: Alamy

Like Bodhidharma (who was a fifth-century Buddhist monk, by the way), Jodorowsky has also collected disciples along the way. Like Marilyn Manson, who called up him up out of the blue one day a couple of years ago. "He proposed me to work with him, and to marry him," he says. So Jodorowsky duly conducted the ceremony for Manson's wedding to Dita Von Teese. "It was in Ireland, in a castle," he recalls. "He took my measurements and made me a costume like the alchemist I play in The Holy Mountain. His wife changed costume five times. Three months later they split up!"

Manson was also trying to make a film expanding on his Holy Wood concept album, modelled on The Holy Mountain. "I said to him, you will never do it because you need $20m from Hollywood, and you want to destroy Hollywood!" They're still friends, though. "He's a very delicate, intelligent person. I see him a lot of times but he's always in makeup. He's always disguised as Marilyn Manson. I don't know who the real person is."

Another unlikely admirer was Erykah Badu, who invited him to her Paris gig last year and paid public homage to him. "She said she admired only two persons. I remember only me! Who was the other one? Oh yes, Elvis Presley." That's just the start: Jodorowsky has legions of disciples he doesn't even know about. He's become a well-spring of weirdness for anyone looking to out-alternative the competition. Now his name is being dropped and his movies referenced everywhere you look. That bit in MGMT's wonderfully psychedelic Time To Pretend video where they push all their money into a fire in the middle of the table? That's from The Holy Mountain. As is the premise of Santigold's LES Artistes video, the one with people gushing coloured fake blood when they're shot. The list goes on: the Mars Volta, Late Of The Pier, Empire Of The Sun, even Kasabian. Next thing you know, Susan Boyle will be warbling on GMTV in a bikini made of ocelots' heads.

Jodorowsky hasn't heard of any of these acts, and asks for links to some of their work. Last time I checked, he hadn't looked at them, though. He's been busy. He's been in Moscow, Florence, Barcelona, and last week he was in London opening an exhibition of his paintings with Pascale Montandon, as part of a month-long Jodorowsky celebration.

He even made his peace with his nemesis, Allen Klein, shortly before his death in July this year. "We were fighting for 30 years," he says, "then his son arranged a meeting in London. When I was walking to the hotel to knock on his door I was thinking, 'I will kill him! He will kill me! What will he do?' And then the door opened. He was an old man. White hair, like me. He say to me, 'But you are beautiful!' I say to him, 'You are like a spiritual master.' And we take each other in the arms. In a second the fight was finished. My father was a monster. And all the hate I had for my father I put into Allen Klein. Allen Klein hated his father also. For him I was his father and for me he was my father. This is the story of Son Of El Topo: two brothers who hate each other but in the end they become one."

Should we expect his next film to be as crazy as the original El Topo? "Of course! I am the same," he says. "I am still radical!"

 

Medieval witches and psychedelics | Boing Boing

 F2 Bewitched
Paul Devereux's book "The Long Trip: A Prehistory of Psychedelia" presents the fascinating story of psychedelic use before the Hoffman/Leary era that we're all familiar with. Devereux travels way back, exploring shamanism, 'shrooms in rock art, the oracle at Delphi, the pre-Incan construction of the Chavín de Huántar temple, etc. In honor of Halloween, the Daily Grail's Greg Taylor, who republished The Long Trip last year, presents an excerpt from the book about possible links between medieval witches and hallucinogenic substances. Special bonus broomstick trivia is after the jump. From The Long Trip:
 Images Bc Bc Thelongtrip A Belgian witch called Claire Goessen confessed in 1603 that she had flown to sabbats several times on a staff smeared with an unguent. In northern France in 1460, five women confessed to receiving a salve from the Devil himself, which they rubbed on their hands and on a small wooden rod they placed between their legs and flew upon "above good towns and woods and waters." Swedish witches in 1669 rode "over churches and high walls" on a beast given to them by the Devil who also issued them with a horn containing a salve with which they anointed themselves. Members of Somerset covens admitted to smearing their foreheads and wrists with a greenish ointment "which smells raw" before their meetings...

...Folklorist Will-Erich Peuckert of Göttingen, for example, mixed an ointment made up of belladonna, henbane and Datura from a seventeenth-century formula and rubbed it on his forehead and armpits, bidding his colleagues to do likewise. They all fell into a twenty-four sleep. "We had wild dreams. Faces danced before my eyes which were at first terrible. Then I suddenly had the sensation of flying for miles through the air. The flight was repeatedly interrupted by great falls. Finally, in the last phase, an image of an orgiastic feast with grotesque sensual excess," Peuckert reported. Harner emphasises the importance of the greased broomstick or similar flying implement, which he suggests served as "an applicator for the atropine-containing plant to the sensitive vaginal membranes as well as providing the suggestion of riding on a steed, a typical illusion of the witches' ride to the Sabbat."

"A characteristic feature of solanaceae psychosis is furthermore that the intoxicated person imagines himself to have been changed into some animal, and the hallucinosis is completed by the sensation of the growing of feathers and hair," Erich Hesse claimed in 1946. In 1658, Giovanni Battista Porta informed that a potion made from henbane, mandrake, thorn apple and belladonna would make a person "believe he was changed into a Bird or Beast." He might "believe himself turned into a Goose, and would eat Grass, and beat the Ground with his Teeth, like a Goose: now and then sing, and endeavor to clap his Wings." Animal transformation is a primary aspect of the hallucinogenic experience, whether it is an American Indian shaman in the Amazon turning into a jaguar, or a Western subject in a psychological experiment.

Witches' Brews (Daily Grail)

The Long Trip: A Prehistory of Psychedelia (Amazon)

Information Bombs and the Canary in the Coal Mine: A Talk with Antero Alli | Reality Sandwich

Alison Levy

 

Throughout his career, Antero Alli has accomplished a plethora of groundbreaking creative work, and is most known for creating a variety of original performance works using Paratheatre processes since 1977, and experimental video documents and feature fiction films since 1993.

I discovered him through his Angel Tech class at the online Maybe Logic Academy which had us students conducting real life experiments to increase our intelligences as part of the Eight-Circuit Brain model of consciousness brought to the west by Dr. Timothy Leary. I am also appreciating Alli's applicable astrology teachings as well as his creative films, which draw from his Paratheatre work.

Alli has been fortunate to be at the right place at the right time: as a young man moving around California and the west coast with his experimental theatre and in a punk outfit, writing esoterica in Denver in the '80s, and living in Seattle as editor of the Talking Raven Quarterly in the '90s. He continues to conduct his Paratheatre, make films, and is putting the finishing touches on Angel Tech 2, (working title) from his lovely Berkeley home where I interviewed him.

 

AL: Where were you born? Where has life taken you?

AA: I was born in Helsinki, Finland 1952, November 11. After three years, my mother, my grandmother, and my little brother and I migrated to Canada where we lived for seven years and then after that we all migrated to Los Angeles, California. So the first 17 years of my life was a series of westward migrations, that is something of significance for me since now after living on the west coast for more than 30 years or more I feel I am a creature of the west coast of the United States, but genetically, or on a deeper family sense I also feel like an outsider. I'm not an American citizen, I'm a Finish citizen with an alien registration card, a green card. I am legally here as an alien.

To make a really long and winding story short, I left LA at 17, headed up to the San Francisco Bay Area and for the next 10 years I made an art out of poverty while writing and directing experimental theater works, and then touring them up and down the northern California coast. Around 1983 I moved to Boulder, Colorado. During my four years there I got married, had a child, got divorced and wrote four books. So a lot happened there in that four years. Then between 1988-1995 I lived in Seattle, Washington where I started up a newspaper called the Talking Raven Quarterly, a rebellious literary quarterly featuring the writings of Hakim Bey, Robert Anton Wilson, Rob Brezsny along with a lot of local and nonlocal poets. We did that for four years. Around this time I started experimenting with video and began what was to become a prolific 18 year span of consistent film production which led me back to Berkeley, California in 1996 and save for a brief return to Seattle to produce my play, "Hungry Ghosts." I've been in Berkeley ever since.

 

How did your beginnings in Finland influence you?

I left Finland when I was three. Though I was very young I was raised with the language and with the cultural baggage that comes with growing up in a family whose origins differ from the surrounding culture -- we were aliens. I think being raised by two strong Finnish women cultivated in me a kind of outsider sensibility. Living in America as a Finn allowed me to view American culture from a distance. It's given me a perspective. Though a part of me identifies as a Finn, and I identify myself more as a human being so I'm not a nationalistic Finn. I have stories about that I would like to tell but I won't right now.

 

Let's talk about the online class I've been taking through the Maybe Logic Academy -- based on your book Angel Tech, which came out in 1985 and is based on the eight circuit brain.

Angel Tech was first self-published in '85 and took about five years to write, so I was writing it from 1980-1985. It's about the practical application of the Eight-Circuit Brain model first made public by Timothy Leary. I first discovered it in Robert Anton Wilson's book Cosmic Trigger back in '78. While I was reading the book a series of bizarre coincidences led me to sitting on a couch in Robert Anton Wilson's living room. From there I became involved with his circle of friends in the Berkeley Hills, when he was living there, in what was called back then Discordian Salons, where scientists, writers, and poets convened in these informal and jovial think tanks. I was just a kid, around 26, and for reasons I still cannot fathom, Bob took a liking to me and invited me back to more of these salons.

Attending the think-tanks, I mostly didn't say anything. I was a fly on the wall taking in all the amazing energies and information passing back and forth between people like Jack Sarfatti and Greg Hill, who is responsible for this little book called Principia Discordia, and of course Bob, and his wife Arlen. These Discordian Salons were a kind of rotating skeleton crew of different poets, philosophers, and scientists who met mostly to exchange ideas. Bob had a favorite thing he liked to do and that was read these almost pornographic Irish limericks just to make people laugh, get their spirits up and that's how he did that.

Then I had read Bob's book Prometheus Rising which is his take on the Eight-Circuit Brain model, and before that I read Exo-Psychology which was Timothy Leary's introduction to it. After reading those books, I was inspired by their different approaches but felt that something was missing. What was missing was how this particular model was not given enough practical application. I felt that maybe I could introduce ways of not just applying it but in some ways embodying it, so it didn't just remain an eloquent system in the abstract strata in our conceptual understanding. I found ways to introduce meditations, exercises, rituals and tasks to trigger the states of consciousness that the circuits are really only acting as symbols for. My aim was to gain full access to the various experiences the symbols represented.

 

Could you tell us how the eight circuits fit together as a system?

Well, the Eight-Circuit brain was actually a model introduced to Timothy Leary by a Rutgers University Scholar of Religious Studies that visited Leary during his Millbrook days in the early '60s. He introduced Leary to a rather esoteric understanding of the Hindu chakra system, not in any kind of pop-psychological way, but something rather quite hidden. Leary was really taken by it and I think he picked up quite a bit of new information from this scholar. Leary then changed several terms and began to find neurological, scientific, and sociological contexts to update what he believed was this archaic system with more scientific terminology. Part of the way he did this was by coining the term, "Eight-Circuit Brain," but the actual system was not something he actually created. He popularized it.

So the system is loosely based on the energy centers of the body linked to various glands and neurologies toward a full brain model for intelligence increase. The basic idea is that it lets you test your own intelligence through each of the eight functions of intelligence: physical intelligence, emotional Intelligence, intellectual intelligence, social intelligence, somatic intelligence, psychic intelligence, genetic or mythic intelligence, and quantum intelligence. These eight functions, or brains, are all interacting with each other and are all active in various degrees of expression and latency in every individual depending upon background and how awake they are to what these circuits represent in their own bodies, their own experiences, and their every day lives. The system is a tool to test your capacity for confessing ignorance in each of the 8 levels towards increasing your intelligence in each by the degree you are able to absorb, integrate, and transmit or communicate the experience of the information and energy inherent to all eight circuits.

The definition of intelligence Leary introduced is quite brilliant in that he borrows it from the trinary function of the most basic unit of biological intelligence, the neuron, and its capacity for absorbing, storing, and transmitting information and/or energy. I liked how this model was based on biology and so I began testing it for myself and discovered all kinds of sources of ignorance and vanity for not wanting to admit that. When I finally realized that vanity was not as interesting as increasing my intelligence, I blew my cover and started confessing ignorance wherever I could. This opened things up quite a bit and over many years, this helped me find all kinds of ways to engage, absorb and transmit my experiences through all eight levels. My process of writing Angel Tech involved testing all the tasks, meditations, rituals, and exercises many times over until I found enough consistency in my results to consider that my work might actually be useful to others.

 

Something that stands out is that Angel Tech is done in a really fun way, with art, jokes and fun collages. You made a system which was translated from an ancient chakra system to something that is totally accessible to more people. People will find this different.

I appreciate that. The presentation is very important to me. Right around the time it came out I had just finished a short lived but very enthusiastically engaged period of being in a punk rock band, "The Frozen Beauties," that I wrote the music and lyrics for. We performed in clubs in the Bay Area back in 1980, right before I began writing Angel Tech. I wanted to approach this whole process in a more DIY punk ethos, which is partly to blame for the book's aesthetics.

 

What I am totally fascinated with at the moment is Chapel Perilous (which was the course topic of this week). How would someone know if she were in Chapel Perilous?

(Lighthearted sinister laughter) Chapel Perilous is a phrase that I use to simply refer to non-local strata or a place which is out of time and space, where aspects of our selves, of our existence, drift away and hide from us. Someone would know they are in Chapel Perilous in a number of ways. Maybe you might sense that you're living a lie or a half life, or are haunted by the feeling of missing something but now know what. You could be doing all the right things externally and maybe even get approval for it and confirmation from peers, society and teachers, but if you still feel as if life is passing you by, maybe you have taken up residence in the Chapel Perilous. There's that sense of something missing. Sometimes big chunks of ourselves become invested in a place that is beyond time and space, that has neither here nor there. We are in a kind of extended limbo zone. Chapel Perilous can become its own mythos or metaphor for a shamanic process of soul retrieval, a quest to get yourself back into the realm of the living again.

I see three basic ways people enter the Chapel. Either through the front door, the back door and/or the trap door. The back door of the Chapel happens when people get trapped in a pit of inertia as a result of excessive redundancy in their lives, you know, repeating the same old routine over and over again and until they enter a numbing condition of narcoleptic amnesia, a sleepy kind of condition. Then there are those who enter the Chapel Perilous through the front door of novelty overdose where they're exposed to such an overwhelming influx of new experience and information that they don't have any time to integrate or stomach any of it. You become a kind of nervous monkey as anxiety more or less guides your daily existence.

 

What kind of information?

The front door entrance of Chapel Perilous is through a path of novelty. That means any situation where you are absorbing information and/or life experiences that are completely new. You have no previous reference for it, no previous maps, nobody told you about this. It can be very exhilarating up to a point, until the anxiety sets in. And everyone has their own threshold for how much uncertainty they can permit before their nervous systems start producing anxiety. Anxiety is a natural, biological, psychological and neurological response to reaching your uncertainty threshold. Anxiety is the symptom that lets you know you've reached your limit of how much uncertainty you can permit, your limit of novelty. If something is truly uncertain, you don't know what's going to happen next and you don't know how much you can take of that uncertainty until you reach your limit. That threshold differs for each person. Some people can tolerate a lot more uncertainty than others.

The third way of entering Chapel Perilous is the trapdoor. People fall into the trapdoor when an outside shock happens beyond your control and comprehension and throws you for a strange loop. It's a little like having the bottom pulled out from beneath you. Like when you've been paying rent at your ideal apartment for five years and then suddenly you get an eviction notice and everything unexpectedly and suddenly changes. The bottom falls out and you're free falling until you find another place to live. Another example of an outside shock is when we encounter individuals through a very sudden and deeply profound attraction. It's like, oh my god, I'm in love and I didn't want this. That kind of transformation can shake things up. Then there are the types of outside shocks that come with the sudden loss of loved ones to death and sickness and things like that. The trapdoor entrances typically happen as outside shocks rattle our cages, you know, the curve balls that life sometimes throws at us all.

 

How does one get out of the Chapel Perilous?

That's a very interesting question. A lot depends on how you entered and what your individual circumstances are, your mental landscape and what's really going on. Bob Wilson pointed out that one of the main features of Chapel Perilous is that it's a product of the mind, of thought. I think that's quite insightful. If you can find a way to see past the mind, or if you can use the mind to see past itself, then you become receptive or aware of a reality beyond the products of thought. When you realize the Chapel is held together by your own thinking, you can guide yourself out of the Chapel by moving around your thoughts. Oftentimes, the thinking is circuitous. It just goes around like a dog chasing its tail, that is, until you can see beyond the dog, beyond what the mind creates. Like the experience of silence, whether it's silence within yourself or silence you find walking through the dark woods, if you can quiet the mind you can find an exit out of Chapel Perilous.

Some people never get out. Some people, like myself, who have been in and out so much that I go in on purpose sometimes because I need the disturbance occasionally, because I live a fairly comfortable life. So I create my own disturbances to throw myself off balance.

 

Care to share one of your personal examples?

(Laughter) Actually, because it's a very valuable device of mine, it's something I would never publicize or talk about.

 

Now can you speak about your paratheatre?

There's actually a good segue way from Chapel Perilous into the paratheatre work. A lot of people that enter the paratheatre process with me are in one way or another trying to get out of Chapel Perilous. The paratheatre work provides certain tools and formats for finding your way out because the aim of this work is about restoring our capacity for direct experience, which is to say, beyond what the mind creates. It's about accessing sources of energy in your body as movement resources that have very little to do with the conceptual mind. The focus of each three hour work session is highly physical, visceral and even though we work on the mental level, we don't work with concepts. The mental plane level that we work with is specific to the intellect's ability to pay attention. We work with two types of attention. The first attention is that awareness linked to thinking, language, and the automatic assignment of meaning and the labeling of experience. That's typically the attention most people in society function with on a daily basis because we are always trying to interpret, label and make sense of things. In the eight circuit model that would be like circuit three.

There's a Second Attention that is not awareness linked to thinking or language. It's that awareness that links to presence, energy and phenomena. It's more an awareness of pure perception or seeing, that does not automatically assign meaning to what it sees. The more we assign labels to experience, the less perception we have for experience, the less we see and the more we assume. The function of the second attention is seeing: simply seeing. I have seen this kind of attention help guide people out of Chapel Perilous. By expanding this capacity to see, to perceive beyond our assumptions and interpretations, we can see past the products of the mind, past the thinking process. By experimenting with paying attention to any phenomena without labeling, it is possible to find a new way of seeing and perceiving. This second attention tends to be stimulated in paratheatre work.

Paratheatre work is in essence a non-performance-oriented ritual technology for Self initiation, with a capital "S," in the way Jung refers to the Archetype of the Self. The purpose is to access, express, and embody the internal landscape. The internal landscape is made up of energy centers in the body itself. The body also carries its own wellsprings of memories, images, with terrific forces often buried in the muscles and cells, forces we excavate and release through convulsive expression in sound, movements, action and gesture. This work is physically rigorous and depends on a strong commitment to feel the body deeply. The deeper the body is felt, the more likely the body gives up these energies, images, and memories that we allow to animate us into action, sound, and gesture.

I borrow techniques from theater, modern dance, various singing techniques. We also borrow heavily from zazen meditation in a central technique I call No-Form, which we apply in a standing posture, not sitting. This is a stance of vertical rest that supports a kind of internal emptying that, on a subjective level, allows an intimacy with the Void. Coming into this intimacy with Void can grow on you until eventually you might even begin knowing yourself as an expression of the Void. This process, unlike traditional zazen is not for us an end in itself. We don't use the No Form technique in any attempt to reach samadhi or bliss. We use it as a ritual tool, as a bridge for cultivating internal receptivity to begin opening to the energy centers, pulses, and rhythm centers in the body itself. This minimizes the tendency for drama therapy or play-acting or improvising, none of which involves paratheatre. Through the deepening receptivity afforded by the No Form standing position, we are able to give ourselves over to these forces and impulses in a more honest way. It is not improvising or play-acting since we are not pushing our will. We're rendering ourselves to be receptive enough to be moved, convulsed and otherwise taken by these energies within our own bodies and allowing them to guide and move us where those energies want to go. What this does is bring people into a more dynamic and direct experience of their own bodies and their own way in which they experience life. When it happens, it's anything but conceptual. It's revitalizing.

This work restores the capacity for direct experience. As people get better at that and knowing what it is, they are less likely to be duped by the mind which is a liar and a whore, or the conceptual mind that hasn't learned to relax its control or tyranny or consciousness over the body. The paratheatre work helps provide a context, a medium, and even structures and techniques for people to explore ways of expressing themselves. When people are more or less locked in their minds, or stuck in their heads, that becomes a chief source of frustration for them in this work. If they're able to get out of their heads and drop down into their bodies, they also stand a better chance of finding an exit out of Chapel Perilous.

 

Can some someone who wants to get it, keep at it and be able to do the work?

Yes and no. Sometimes what we want isn't what we get, no matter how bad we want it. Certainly, desire and enthusiasm are important. There is also a certain willingness to sacrifice one's attachments to preconceptions, assumptions and expectations of what's going to happen to allow reality to happen.

 

What paratheatre projects you are working on now?

What I have been tending to for the last year and a half, with the group of eight, has involved what I call the Dreaming Ritual. The Dreaming Ritual requires a unique type of dream recall for movements, kinetic properties, discovered in the dreams we have at night. I say it is a unique type of dream recall because people typically find that they are not able to remember movements right away. They can remember images, characters, colors or emotions, but to actually single out a movement is not so easy. The aim here is to find a movement in your dream, whether it's a movement you do, or someone else or something else does, that you can precisely replicate when you wake up. You have to be able to actually do the movement as close as possible to how you remembered it in the dream.

We need to find three movements, whether they are in one dream or three separate dreams it doesn't matter as long as they are coming from the dream. A minimum of three, some people will have up to five, six or seven movements. What we do with the movements is stitch them together to create a movement cycle which we then execute and we perform. We develop several levels of performing that dreaming ritual from the most mechanical level which is just to physically perform the series of movements as a cycle, a nonstop cycle that carries its own rhythms.

The end of the first movement is stitched to the beginning of the second movement, and the end of the second movement is stitched to the beginning of third movement. The end of the third movement comes around to the beginning of the first movement and it becomes this circle. That's the movement cycle and the dream choreography. Then when you physically perform it, it expresses its own rhythms. Because the movements originated in particular dreams, very often when you're performing it again while awake, those images begin flooding your consciousness. Sometimes an emotion was buried since dreams carry all kinds of not just personal, but more mysterious forces and emotions. So these forces start emerging simply because the dream movement acts as a kind of talisman or a charged kinetic property we take into the waking world and perform with our eyes open.

We've been working on a series of different dreaming rituals for about a year and a half. We work for maybe ten weeks at a time, twice a week, three hours at a time in what I call dream labs. Right now we are finishing our final lab which we will bring up to perform up on Mount Tamalpais at night. Why I'm interested in ritual process in terms of the eighth circuit is that for me it brings a kind of embodiment, or an application of certain forms that have been capable of triggering for people a kind of eighth circuit experience. There's all kinds of benefits, it depends on the person doing it. Different people have different reasons for doing it. Basically the effect of this ritual is that it brings about a very powerful and all-encompassing unity so you don't feel isolated any more. There is a sense of really being a part of all things as an expression of life. It's very difficult to find the words to describe this experience. One way I struggle to convey these impressions is through filmmaking.

You've seen my film "The Mind is a Liar and a Whore" which is my most accessible film, my most normal film. All my other ones are very much tied into the dream lives of the characters and how the dreams act on their lives, the decisions they are making, and the relationships they get into. I'm constantly in one way or another exploring the interface between the daytime and the dreamtime and how awakening inside this interface acts on our lives. How it changes or transforms our personalities, and the kind of individuals we wind up becoming simply because we are exposed to the effect of dreams in our waking life.

 

What about all the people who say they do not dream?

In this hypermedia saturated culture, especially with people born in the early ‘80s on, I think there is a certain imagination lobotomy that has occurred where the external media technologies and sources have gradually usurped the poetic genius or our innate ability to image their own realities. So we succumb to images more gorgeous, interesting, fascinating, or compelling than we can create out of our own imaginations. So the imagination dies, it withers -- imagination death or soul loss is involved. I think part of also what gets lost is dream recall.

Personally I don't really think that it's that people don't dream, but that they've lost dream recall. There's an association in my mind between the loss of dream recall and power loss in people's lives. People losing power, losing the ability to influence the world in ways that are meaningful to them. So power loss, loss of dream recall, loss of imagination are all tied into a larger cultural epidemic resulting from this acceleration of media technology and its interface with human consciousness. Especially any kind of immersion software like video gaming, VR technology, and sometimes even films and television and other kinds of media too, where it just overwhelms and sabotages or takes over the individual imagination.

 

How do you think people can be empowered?

The way I hope to contribute to society, or to people, probably more at the level of subculture for me, is to continue creating with the intention for stimulating and resuscitating the imagination. This is my politics. My political incentive is to incite a serious of tiny riots in people's imaginations and find new ways to light the fuses of new information bombs that go off in people's minds so they are forced to use their imagination to grasp, engage, or involve themselves in what they are doing. Imagination is the new canary in the cultural coal mine; imagination death precedes loss of the soul.

Alli's newest book, The Eight-Circuit Brain: Navigational Strategies for the Energetic Body, will be released on October 1st, 2009. Excerpts from the book may be read here and here

 

Roger Hutchinson on Aleister Crowley - The Beast Demystified | The Last Tuesday Society

 Roger Hutchinson on 
        
ALEISTER CROWLEY The Beast Demystified

31st October 2009 
Doors at 6 pm - Lecture commences at 7 pm

Often referred to as the "wickedest man alive," Aleister Crowley (1875-1947) had a shocking reputation. Stories abound of drugs, orgies, sacrificial ceremonies, and the tragic deaths of those who associated with him. His early life, however, was one of considerable achievement. One of the most accomplished mountain climbers of his generation, he was also the friend and literary model to a host of celebrated figures. An early convert to eastern philosophies, Crowley attempted to replace Western Christianity with his own brand of religion-most notably through his writings and his commune in Sicily. Addicted to opiates, hounded by the press, and pursued through the courts, the tribulations of his later years would have ruined a lesser man. This biography presents the "Great Beast" for the first time as an accessible figure: a flawed, egotistical individual who left an indelible mark on his era. 

Roger Hutchinson was born and brought up in the north of England. During the 1970s he worked as a journalist in London, editing the underground magazines Oz, International Times and Time Out. 
In 1977 he moved to Skye to join the staff of the radical weekly West Highland Free Press. His bestselling and highly acclaimed ‘Calum’s Road’, described as “destined to become a minor classic”, was shortlisted for the Royal Society of Literature’s Ondaatje Prize in 2008 and is being filmed for the big screen by Handmade Films.
His controversial biography of Aleister Crowley, ‘The Beast Demystified’ - "the only life of Crowley not to have been written by an acolute" - was published in 1998 and continues to sell widely in Britain and the USA.

Lecture at 11 Mare Street - Please click here for tickets £5 each