I'd say that my subsequent interest in Magick probably was generated by a speech that I put into William Gull's mouth in one of the early episodes, the tour around London, where I had Gull talking about the idea that the one place where the Gods inarguably exist is in the human mind, and that that does not decrease their power or influence one iota. That they are inarguably real as ideas and that this gives them all of the power of the God of Exodus. And I remember writing that and thinking to myself, wait a minute, that's true. I've written something true by accident and then I had to re-align my life around that insight. It might not seem like much of an insight to anybody else but that's where it hit me.
Ultimately, anarchy begins at home. Life without rulers as a serious proposition will entail self-rule, which cannot come about unless we properly accept and understand that we as individuals and we alone are totally responsible for our own lives and destinies. One of the first things that this understanding brings with it is the unsettling realisation that if we are our own leaders, we now have no one to blame and no excuse for failing at the tasks we set ourselves. We cannot blame our background or our parents or society in general for our limitations because we have taken the responsibility for our existence squarely on ourselves. We can’t say wistfully that we could have been someone special if we hadn’t been held back by our upbringing or our finances; by marrying that man, that woman; having or not having those specific kids. We can’t continue with the role of helpless and beleaguered victim in our own lives if we’ve just decided we are that life’s leader, are its heroines and heroes. If we’re trying to conceal our flaws it must be said that anarchy’s personal freedom offers very little cover.
the Green Pound movement that’s intermittently at large in deprived areas of Britain, in which people who are mostly unemployed trade hours of their work-time as a method of avoiding the official currency completely.
Science, grown out of magic, magic’s gifted, pushy offspring, its most practical and thus materially profitable application, very soon decided that the ritual and symbolic lumber of its alchemic parent-culture was redundant, an encumbrance and an embarrassment. Puffed up in its new white lab coat, ballpoints worn like medals at the breast, science came to be ashamed in case its mates (history, geography, P.E) caught it out shopping with its mum, with all her mumbling and chanting. Her third nipple. Best that she be nutted off to some secure facility, some Fraggle Rock for elderly and distressed paradigms.
Much of magic as I understand it in the Western occult tradition is the search for the Self, with a capital S. This is understood as being the Great Work, as being the gold the alchemists sought, as being the Will, the Soul, the thing we have inside us that is behind the intellect, the body, the dreams. The inner dynamo of us, if you like. Now this is the single most important thing that we can ever attain, the knowledge of our own Self. And yet there are a frightening amount of people who seem to have the urge not just to ignore the Self, but actually seem to have the urge to obliterate themselves. This is horrific, but you can almost understand the desire to simply wipe out that awareness, because it’s too much of a responsibility to actually posses such a thing as a soul, such a precious thing. What if you break it? What if you lose it? Mightn’t it be best to anesthetize it, to deaden it, to destroy it, to not have to live with the pain of struggling towards it and trying to keep it pure? I think that the way that people immerse themselves in alcohol, in drugs, in television, in any of the addictions that our culture throws up, can be seen as a deliberate attempt to destroy any connection between themselves and the responsibility of accepting and owning a higher Self and then having to maintain it.