The Sayings of Ganesh Baba
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
ULTRACULTURE JOURNAL ONE ERA VULGARIS 2007 EDITED BY JASON LOUV THIS JOURNAL IS PROVIDED IN ELECTRONIC FORM AS SHARE- WARE. ITS CONTINUED PRODUCTION DEPENDS COMPLETELY ON THE RESPONSIBLE GENEROSITY OF ITS READERS. IF YOU ENJOY THIS JOURNAL AND WOULD LIKE TO SEE FUTURE ISSUES, PLEASE DONATE AT LEAST TEN DOLLARS VIA PAYPAL TO [email protected] OR THROUGH WWW.ULTRACULTURE.ORG. HARD COPIES OF THIS BOOK AND ADDITIONAL ULTRACULTURE PRODUCTS CAN BE PURCHASED AT WWW.ULTRACULTURE.ORG. WORD. This collection Copyright © 2007 Jason Louv. All of the articles in this book are Copyright © by their respective authors and/or original publishers, except as specified herein, and we note and thank them for their kind permission. This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by- nc-nd/3.0/ or send a letter to Creative Commons, 543 Howard Street, 5th Floor, San Francisco, California, 94105, USA. Published by Ultraculture International www.ultraculture.org [email protected] Cover Image by Nelson Evergreen. http://www.nelson-evergreen.com Library of Congress Control Number: TBA ISBN-13: 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Ultraculture is a trademark of Jason Louv. The opinions and statements made in this book are those of the authors concerned. Ultraculture has not verified and neither confirms nor denies any of the foregoing and no warranty or fitness is implied. Engage with the contents herein At Your Own Risk. In Memoriam Robert Anton Wilson (1932-2007) ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Special thanks to, in no particular order, Dean and Karen Stahl, Genesis and Jackie Breyer P-Orridge, Eddie Garou, Joe Magnone, Tom Blunt, Anne Sullivan, Peter Christopherson, Sotos Petrides, Richard Metzger, Fred Lau, Chris Hundley, Edward O’Dowd, Anastasia Toom, Babaji, Lalitanath, Alex Gordon-Brander, Hayden Wood- ward, the Illuminates of Thanateros, Walid ibn-Yazid and family, Jessica Gliddon, Adam Parfrey, Raven Digitalis, Maya Shmuter, Evan and Leigh Gourvitz, Edward Wilson, Louisa Hadley, John Garmon, Jude Evans, Anne-Marie Dougherty, Shaun Frenté, Alex and Allyson Grey, Benjamin and Lori Brueseke, Scott Treleaven, Kelly McKay, Will Swofford, Jordan Zinovich, Autonomedia, Ebe Oke, Eve Neuhaus, Chris Arkenberg, Jim Levine, Daniel Greenberg, Ron Hogan, Sven Davisson, the Douglas Walla Gallery (belated thanks for the cover of Generation Hex), the Nur Ashki Jerrahi Sufi Order, Caleigh Murphy, Danny Lowe, Stephen Grasso, Mahendranath, the As- trolabion Argentum (a.k.a. Giant Space Vagina), the Riverside Church, the Louv fam- ily, Dennis Woo, any friendly midway creatures or praeterhuman intelligences who have lent me hands or tentacles, everybody who wrote to me about Generation Hex, and everybody who warned me not to even though I did anyway. Additional thanks to Lalitanath and Shivanath for immense help with manifestation. STILL VOLATILE! GENERATION HEX http://www.generation-hex.com Edited by Jason Louv • Disinformation Press, 2005 $14.95 / 288 Pages / ISBN 1-932857-20-6 Here’s what the critics are saying! “Occult sections in bookstores are usually magnets for the spottiest, stupidest, most badly-dressed people... but I particularly resist precisely this thing that Jason Louv is advocating in Generation Hex, the stringing together of Satanism and alterna- tive culture. I resist it because it’s just fucking boring to see the counterculture summed up with a skull... as these Satanist kids josh about Jason Louv, ‘Jason Louv drinks with nobody but the devil, I tell you! Satan mixes his cocktails! A horned beast with a dark and terrifying cock stirs his vodka martini and a putrid she-devil with monkeys for tits pours his lager! No man on earth dare sip from the same cup!’” – Momus “Permanent derangement.” – Peter J. Carroll “The best occult book since 1981.” – Genesis Breyer P-Orridge “Your invitation to the party that might just bring the house down.” – Grant Morrison CONTENTS EDITORIAL: MOKSHADELICA 6 General Order Master—Genesis Breyer P-Orridge The Amoral Way of the Wizard—Lalitanath 6 A Spell to Open the Sky—Elijah A Grammary—Jason Louv 8 Notes of an Alchemist—Ira Cohen Eternalicious—Shivanath 7 An Interview With Monica Dechen Gyalmo—Prince Charming 9 Tantric Picnic—Hans Plomp 96 I Married My-Self—Lamda 0 Are You a Skin?—Johnny Templar 06 The Laughing Gnostic—Peter-R. Koenig 09 The Man With the Tattered Smile—Mordant Carnival 0 The Day I Went to Fetch the Acids—Joel Biroco 9 Causal Cosmogeny and Cosmology—Ganesh Baba 6 The Sayings of Ganesh Baba 67 Trishuls, Tibetans and Tsunamis—Dave Lowe 7 S/He is Her/E—Genesis Breyer P-Orridge Black Mass—Jason Louv Paint Me as a Dead Soul—Jhonn Balance 6 A Quick Trip to Alamut—Brion Gysin 6 Kings With Straw Mats—Ira Cohen 8 A Few Science Experiments to Try at Home 89 Reviews 0 Contributor Biographies Article Histories 6 Appendix. The Parable of Lamion 7 MOKSHADELICA Jason Louv The very Devil Himself manifests as an Angel of Light. How easily are you fooled? Two acquaintances of mine, unconnectedly and out of the blue, recently asked me in all earnestness “How I felt about Lucifer,” as if they expected that I would be on a first-name basis with him. Maybe they think I’m a good candidate to field questions like this because I’ve written a lot about the occult, or I once worked for a company with a devil’s head for a logo, or I once ran around in public proclaiming myself a “magician,” mostly because I’m a smart-ass and I was curious what would happen. I don’t know. The first person who asked, I told to go to Times Square in New York, the best concrete demonstration I could think to give of the false light of a false angel. The second person who asked got me on a less serious day, so I just made a horrible face and twisted my hands up into claws and chased her, laughing, around the room. But I’ve thought a lot about it, over the last couple of years. About what’s true, and what’s just a distraction, a trick of the Light. In the Middle Ages the peasantry of Europe knew the Devil was real. Maybe he hadn’t figured out how to trick people into disbelieving in him yet. They heard him scratching at their hut walls in the hours before morning, sniffing for where the children lay, looking for any opening, any weakness. No metaphysical abstraction. They knew he was real. In our age the Beast has taken more erudite dwellings, but we can hear him still, his cracked nails scrabbling around our boundaries. He lives in the halls of power, where they decide which village gets bombed next, or what pharmaceuticals to keep out of circulation, or what human rights violation of the day will be given a blind eye in order to keep the markets running. He lives in five hundred channels and one message, that you are small and insignificant. He makes sure you get an education that cuts off your ability to think for yourself and then he makes sure you work to feed him every weekday for the rest of your adult life. He can be quite charming, sympathetic. He tells you, C’mon. This is just the way things are. Just go with the flow, and it’ll all turn out in the end. After all, I like you. You’re special. You’re going places. He is an Angel of Light, a Lightbringer, and his speciality is Illumination and Enlightenment. Easy answers. Hard ones, even, if that’s more to your taste. Some cheap spirituality to fill you up for a week or two, or a lifetime. Keep you from just, you know. Falling apart. He promises you special wisdom, or special powers, or, if you really hold out, maybe he’ll even promise you a way to end the suffering of others. He wants you to See the Light. 6 Now that’s an interesting one. Certainly I’m as guilty of that as anybody, after all, I got up in front of a crowd and shouted that Love Was the Law and that I Saw the Light Through Black Magic. So I’m one to talk. But what is magic but a show? A grand distraction, a juggling act? Most “magical systems” are either sterile and ineffective or will quickly hand your sorry ass over to “higher” entities who will gladly use you as a pawn in their old and feeble games because you were too weak to plot your own destiny and tap your own innate “magic.” And perhaps all of the freaky coincidences, the pressing late-night god contacts, the psychedelic grandeur, the arcane theories, the frantically-assigned meanings, the interstellar conspiracies, the greedily gathered flashes of insight and wisdom—perhaps, real as they can be, they’re simply more “stuff ” at the end of the day, like the endlessly hypnotic lightshows and entity communications users of DMT or Salvia divinorium report as appearing to distract one from the real shit. Put on enough of a show and that ten-minute trip’ll be over before you even notice that it’s the lightshow which is the true threshold, the true door of perception, let alone before you muster the bravery to get to the other side. And so it is with life. Games within games and distractions within distractions. An Angel of Light, the light just out of reach at the end of a tunnel that somehow grows longer with each step.