Sick Again (Cheap Day Return)
A strange week, punctuated by my being sickly (again).
I do not wear illness well, primarily I suppose because I rarely was throughout my younger years. I was blessed with a near epic constitution, and now, my lungs and stomach have failed me and I stagger about, half the man I used to be (but, I like to think, still twice the man most ever were).
I’ve read Richard Cole’s Liber L. vel Bogus – The Real Confession of Aleister Crowley. Twice now, actually. Still not ready to write my review though. This book, brilliant to be sure, but steeped in sarcasm, humour, parody, and satire, requires more thought on my end.
Cole’s work addresses openly many of the same concerns I have discussed with a whole host of occult enthusiasts over the years. It has always been rather obvious to me that Crowley’s chronicle of events was factitious. Aiwass = “I Was”, no? The writing style was clearly Crowley’s own, despite the protestations of his sycophant followers.
More importantly is this: I just don’t care if it was falsified or not. It does not dismiss its importance. It merely sheds light on Crowley’s foibles, of which there are many. And let’s be honest, as my friend Freeman Presson so astutely observed, it is a part of the magical tradition to prop up one’s sect in just such a manner.
It’s how the game was played.
He was brilliant and innovative and genius… and broken.
It makes the illuminated material all the brighter for it.
If you can’t pore over Crowley’s works and change the lead into gold where appropriate then you’re doing it wrong.
Crowley wrote, “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. Love is the law, love under will.”
Just because he reappropriated/made it up doesn’t it make it untrue.
It’s all in the way that you use it.