Over the last several months I learned that
I shouldn’t declare the subject of my next post in advance. This constitutes an
important lesson, for if I had not promised to review EPOCH, I likely would
have a few more posts up by now on other subjects. I imagined a simple and
quickly written essay, as I read the book excitedly in only three days when it
came out, but it turned out that I needed to put some time between readings in
order to get the most out of them and in the meantime I’ve been introduced to
sources of information that have subtly changed the way I see certain issues that
will prove useful when I finish the review. As I want to get back to writing
about other things (and because the first part got lengthy), I’ve decided to
break the review up into two or three parts (probably three). However, I won’t
write these back-to-back, as I want to actually work with the material in the
book before saying more. I could crank out a cursory examination and critique
from a theoretical stance, but I feel a practitioner’s point-of-view will cover
more ground with more insight and ultimately seem more useful to others. Accordingly,
this first part deals with only the first couple chapters – the theory
sections. I make no promises as to when I’ll write the later parts.
Another interesting thing happened in the
last few months – Scott Alexander created a
rather interesting map of the rationalist community and included this blog as tangentially
related, setting it specifically in the category of “postrationality”. This has
led to a lot of discussion about what “postrationality” means. The best explanation so far comes from Darcey Riley on her blog Yearly
Cider, and I suggest people look
there for clarification. I agree with her take on postrationality so far and
have no objections to accepting the label for myself. To me, it seems like the
combination of reason and intuition, science and religion, that I normally assume
as the default in magick. I have my own thoughts on the matter, of course, and
will likely write about them eventually, but I want to wait for the idea to
develop more fully first.
A large increase in readership has resulted
as a consequence of this blog’s
inclusion on the map of the rationality movement, many of whom I must assume
count themselves as rationalists. I had always planned to write for an
intellectual audience, but now I wonder about framing discussions of magick in
a way that doesn’t set off rationalist alarm bells. Fortunately, this
particular segment of the rationalist community seems rather different from some
others; many of them have read Robert Anton Wilson and Aleister Crowley, and
some practice sigil magick and/or tulpamancy (a practice that looks quite similar to servitor creation from Chaos magick,
among other things). They even anthropomorphize emergent structures as
various gods, although I think
they do so sloppily and will have to discuss this in the later posts in this series.
So, it seems appropriate that my first post
to overtly discuss magick concerns Chaos magick, of a type that appeals most
strongly to atheists, materialists, and skeptics, as it provides an explanation
of magick beyond mere psychological effects, one which the scientifically minded should
find acceptable, so long as they remain open to such an explanation. Not
everyone will agree. There exist pseudo-skeptics out there that stop thinking
upon hearing the word “magick”, not realizing that magick does not mean
“impossible miracles” or “fantastical nonsense” or even “mysterious”; such
things do occur in the lore, but act more as distractions than definitions. Nor
does it represent a word devoid of meaning which one can conveniently fill with
a meaning of one’s choice. It instead refers to a historically persistent and
culturally universal set of ideas and practices that has connections with, and
relevance to, pretty much all of human experience.
There exist also other types of Chaos magickians that don’t like Carroll’s ideas past his first book, thinking them too rational and preferring instead what appears to me as possibly insane absurdist solipsism. I don’t have an answer for them. In the possible range of human interests, some people prefer art to science or vice-versa; as a postrationalist, I prefer somewhere in the middle with a moderate bias towards science. I suspect Carroll does too, which explains why I like his writing (even when I disagree) and I think many rationalists will as well.
There exist also other types of Chaos magickians that don’t like Carroll’s ideas past his first book, thinking them too rational and preferring instead what appears to me as possibly insane absurdist solipsism. I don’t have an answer for them. In the possible range of human interests, some people prefer art to science or vice-versa; as a postrationalist, I prefer somewhere in the middle with a moderate bias towards science. I suspect Carroll does too, which explains why I like his writing (even when I disagree) and I think many rationalists will as well.
As usual with my book reviews, I intend to
summarize the text in some detail and provide commentary in the process. This
will make the review rather long. You can find an excellent and more
traditional book review here.
On with the review…
*****************
Peter J. Carroll wrote the
Esotericon & Portals of Chaos (EPOCH) as his 6th book, this time in collaboration with
Matt Kaybryn, who did the artwork for the accompanying Portals of Chaos card
deck. For those who don’t know, Carroll previously authored Liber
Null & Psychonaut, Liber
Kaos, Psybermagick,
The
Apophenion, and The
Octavo. He gained renown in occult circles with the release of Liber Null, for which many call him the
‘father’ of Chaos magic, and he writes with an exceptionally clear and concise
manner that leaves one wondering how so few words can contain much so meaning,
making anything he writes rather difficult to summarize.
From Psybermagick on, Carroll avoids using
forms of the verb ‘to be’, employing E-prime to increase clarity and
condense meaning further. I adopt this style in homage for this review, even
though it slows down my writing process somewhat and results in some awkward
constructions. Although using Aleister Crowley’s spelling of “magick” in Psybermagick, all of Carroll’s other
writings use the spelling “magic” (which I also use for this review, despite my
usual preference), and his disdain for Crowley’s philosophy becomes clear in
the EPOCH.
While Liber Null consists of the stripped down
basics of magical techniques, constituting the beginning instructions of Chaos
magic, Liber Kaos presents a
brand-new magical theory, one designed for a rational, scientific, and
atheistic worldview based on equations for how magic manipulates probability. Psybermagick extends Chaos Magic Theory
(CMT) and provides numerous other challenging ideas in multiple subjects. The Apophenion, among other things,
introduces the idea of Apophenia, that moment of realization when one finds
meaning in a seemingly random pattern, and proposes turning it into a goddess
and invoking her directly to produce epiphanies. The Octavo contains mostly physics and gives equations describing a
universe where not only does magic work, but it requires magic to function at
all. From Liber Kaos on, Carroll has
elaborated on CMT, along with his alternative cosmological theory that he now
calls Vorticitating Hypersphere Cosmology (VHC), both of which currently find their
most elaborate expression in The Octavo,
with continuing updates on his blog.
Thus far, all of Carroll’s books have built upon his previous works, and the EPOCH doesn’t differ in this regard, but
in other respects it represents a very different type of book, accessible to
those not thoroughly familiar with his earlier ideas and concerned mostly with
the concepts graphically suggested in the card deck.
With superb
production quality, the hardbound over-sized book has over 200 thick,
full-color, photo-quality pages. The pictures of the Portals
of Chaos deck appear full-size in the book, and only slightly less shiny
than the cards. Because of its odd size (9” tall and 10.5” wide), large number
of large pictures, tons of blank space, and up to three columns of small font text
per page, determining the actual ‘length’ of the book seems difficult. It feels
longer than Carroll’s earlier works, but didn’t seem to take longer to read. It
made me wish for the expression of book length in word count instead of pages.
The 54 cards
have the same large size (9” (22.9cm) by 5.69” (14.4cm)) as the pictures in the
book, but the borders on the cards render their pictures somewhat smaller (7.69”
(19.5cm) by 4.69” (11.9cm)). Having the
cards so large makes them kind of flimsy, and thicker cardstock would likely
improve them, but their intended use in ritual as altar pieces, rather than as
divination tools, makes their thinness a non-issue.
The EPOCH
contains three grimoires (one each for elemental, planetary, and stellar
magic), although only the grimoire of stellar magic, a manifestation of the
Necronomicon, appears in classical grimoiric form with implements to construct
and explicit rituals to perform to conjure a set of entities. The other two
grimoires seem less robust in comparison, presenting only the entities for the
elements and planets, and mostly leaving the mage to figure out what to do with
them while giving sparse suggestions. This actually seems appropriate though,
as the forces dealt with move from simple and general to complex and specific
to complex and general, requiring greater detail towards the end. Subsequent
parts of this review will cover the grimoire chapters themselves, but first
comes the rationale for them.
Chapter 1
This
introduction to the whole work provides a sweeping overview of the history of
magic in the western world, justifying the ideas to follow and setting them in
a historical context. Nothing here will appear new or mind-blowing to anyone
who has kept up with the history of magic for the last couple decades, but it
does tell the story with Carroll’s characteristic flair and brevity. Beginning
with the era of the Greek Magical Papyri, when a great synthesis of magical
ideas occurred in the cosmopolitan world of the late Roman Empire, Carroll
traces the development of what he calls Platonic Pagan Monotheism (PPM) from
Greek philosophy on through Neoplatonism and Christianity. The main idea in PPM
consists of the perfect existence of The One, which gets equated with God, and
from which depend all the various gods and spirits as aspects or emanations. Up
until rather recently, all western occultism derived from this system,
including Gnosticism, Hermeticism, and Kabala, all of which developed in the
first few centuries of the common era in the crucible of ideas mixing
Platonism, monotheism, and paganism.
Carroll
emphasizes that the utility of paganism, with its multiple and diverse deities
providing better handles for dealing with the complexities of human psychology,
ensured that it could never suffer extinction. Monotheism imposes a vision of a
single self, judged by a single god and suggesting a ‘unified’ and ‘stable’
singular personality as an unquestioned good. Paganism gives us a more
realistic picture of our psychology, one where we can have conflicting
motivations, ideas, and emotions and seek different types of experiences for
different ‘selves’. The idea of the personal multimind has remained a constant
of Carroll’s ideas since Liber Kaos,
and finds expression in the work of modern psychology and cognitive science as
well. As a result of its utility, paganism got incorporated into the esoteric
systems that developed, and even Christianity adopted its methods with the
proliferation of saints and icons to take the place of the pagan gods.
The
preservation of ancient magic and philosophy by Muslims during the dark ages
comes next, with mentions of the Picatrix and other medieval grimoires, up
until the fall of Byzantium sends ancient texts westward and inaugurates the
Renaissance. Christian Cabbalah emerges at this time from the intersection of
Christianity with Kabala and Hermeticism. Carroll says that this time period
led to our stereotype of the scholarly wizard searching through old dusty
texts, although it seems to me that this image should have also existed in the
time of the library of Alexandria.
The
Enlightenment, initiating the beginnings of modern science and the industrial
revolution, marks the onset of the age of reason and the decline of religious
worldviews. Notably, the work of Newton, despite his intense devotion to
esoteric studies, showed that the world could work mechanistically without any
god perpetually tinkering with it, while Darwin realized that creatures didn’t
get designed ex nihilo by some benevolent creator, but evolve through random
and harsh circumstances. The world appeared disenchanted, and so, spurred by
colonial expansion encountering interesting religious cultures and the backlash
of Romanticism to industrialism, a new esoteric revival seemed assured.
Sure enough,
the magical revival of the late 19th century manifested and found
its most enduring expression in the work of Samuel Liddel Mathers, who cobbled
together various streams of esoteric thought into what we now call the Golden
Dawn system of magic. Using Kabala as a framework, and inspired by ancient
mystery traditions, Mathers synthesized vast amounts of occult lore into a debatably
coherent and somewhat cohesive structure combining Tarot, Astrology, Geomancy,
Paganism, Monotheism, Spiritualism, Freemasonry, and Dr. John Dee’s Enochian
magical system.
Although
virtually all Western magical traditions today owe a great debt to Mathers’ influence,
the system he devised remained built upon the PPM model. The combination of an
abstract monotheism with a loose mythological polytheism had great appeal to
the nominally religious Victorians worried about the clash between pastoral
Romanticism and soul-crushing industrialism.
In contrast
to the praise Carroll gives to Mathers, he has little other than mockery for Aleister
Crowley. Although crediting Crowley with adding sex and drugs to the collection
of magical techniques, Carroll accuses him of creating a type of neo-satanism
by inverting a few ideas. So instead of the doctrine of Original Sin, Crowley
gives us the doctrine of the True Will, and instead of self-sacrifice he
recommends self-indulgence. For the dying god in the form of Christ, Crowley
enthrones the “Crowned and Conquering Spoiled Brat of the Aeon of Horus.”
Carroll will have more to say on these points later on in the book.
But science
kept progressing, revealing the universe as an unimaginably huge and uncaring
place wherein our planet, civilizations, and individuals had no cosmic
significance. The PPM model of the all-perfect Unity/God descending through
successive emanations into material manifestation looked increasingly naïve. As
the atheist trends in Western societies grew more popular, religious functions
got replaced by sciences, and gods (when people thought of them at all) came to
symbolize psychological structures in the mind and sources of moralistic myths.
For over 2000 years, people thought spirit controlled and formed matter, but
now it appeared to happen in reverse, with matter giving rise to mind and/or
spirit.
Yet,
replacing God with Man, as Crowley attempted, seemed unsatisfactory. Science
revealed the sheer horror of our fragility on our little ball of life in the
mostly empty and extremely hostile vacuum of space. Humans appeared as puny
inconsequential creatures, and if we wanted to find superior intelligences it
seemed best to look towards the stars. And so, with humanity transfixed by the
potentially awesome and likely dangerous inhuman beings on other worlds, H.P.
Lovecraft began writing science fiction mixed with horror.
The Elder
Gods that Lovecraft came up with possess knowledge and powers which could prove
hazardous to humans. Carroll lists these as: “Direct power over the mind and
the brain itself, power over the core processes of biology, the power of
creating life and physical immortality, the understanding of the strange and
secret geometries of the universe at both the cosmic and quantum levels, and
the power to manipulate them, the powers of chaos and of creation itself.”
Whereas for Lovecraft these ideas constitute “Things Which We Should Not Know”,
that kind of tease has always motivated magicians to investigation. Thus,
Carroll proposes using the Elder Gods as imaginary stand-ins and psychic
anchors for accessing alien knowledge that almost certainly exists somewhere in
the universe. Adding only slightly to CMT, he suggests that information leaks
weakly across space-time in a non-local manner. By invoking gods and elder
gods, humans create psychic links to information that allows for interaction in
a personable manner with otherwise abstract concepts – as has been done since
the days of unadulterated animism and shamanism.
In answer to
the Fermi Paradox (with alien civilizations so probable, why don’t we see any?)
Carroll contends that interstellar travel seems either impossible or else so
resource intensive that civilizations see it as unprofitable. Alternatively,
perhaps an interstellar civilization has access to an unimaginably great energy
source, and if so, it would seem very unlikely that they would find us or our
planet of any interest at all. Even if they did investigate us, they would
undoubtedly have the ability to avoid detection.
Carroll
names the emerging metaphysical theory Quantum Neo-Pagan, in contradistinction
to the PPM. Keep in mind that, unlike many New Age authors who use “quantum” to
mean something like ‘mysterious’ in order to give their ramblings the
appearance of scientific credibility, Carroll usually does nothing of the sort.
The amount of physics and math in his earlier books has deterred many a
would-be Chaos magician, and the math in the EPOCH seems surprisingly sparse in
comparison. Nonetheless, although he does base CMT on quantum mechanics and
usually uses the word accurately, in this case with QNP he does appear to use
“quantum” somewhat colloquially. Don’t let that fool you, however, into
thinking he means anything like the nonsense New Age gurus mean by it (if you
can figure out what they mean at all).
The main
difference in the QNP model lies in replacing the ‘ultimate oneness’ at the top
of the PPM model with a multitude of imaginary extraterrestrial Elder Gods who
act as repositories for whatever actual alien intelligences in the universe
that possess the forbidden knowledge we desire. The Kabalistic Tree of Life,
for the last couple centuries, has served as the symbolic map for PPM, showing
the descent of The One down through the celestial spheres culminating in the
physical world. To reconcile the need for a symbolic map fitting the QNP model,
Carroll will present a new glyph in the next chapter – the Chaobala.
(Get used to
quirky naming conventions within Chaos magic. Carroll doesn’t call it ‘E-prime’,
for instance, but ‘V-prime’ for vernacular prime, and eventually ‘Chaos Prime’
which also substitutes ‘we’ for ‘I’ in accordance with the multimind idea.
Discordianism has had an important influence on Chaos magic as well.)
Lastly in
chapter 1, Carroll summarizes the three grimoires:
“Elemental Magic. The
Realm of the Elements, The Circle of ‘Imaginary Forces’
Here lie earth, air, fire, water, and aether, as archetypes
of the physical forces and associated ‘spirits’ and servitors, the humoral
personality traits and abilities, and the five basic magical operations of
enchantment, divination, evocation, invocation and illumination.
Planetary Magic. The
Realm of the Gods, The Sphere of ‘Imaginary Allies’
Here lie the eight, rather than seven, ‘planetary’
archetypes or archons where each of these god-forms represents one of the core
emotive driving forces of the human psyche, and which create the human
condition.
Stellar Magic. The
Realm of the Elder Gods, The Hypersphere of ‘Imaginary Adversaries’
Here lie the archetypes of the higher knowledge and powers
to which elements of humanity and many magicians aspire, despite the dangers
they also bring with them.”
Chapter 2
Perhaps
because the book concerns (and comes with) a deck of cards, Carroll begins
chapter 2 with a brief history of tarot. Without any surprises, he tells the
standard history of tarot arising as a card game in the 14th
century, getting adopted by fortune-tellers, misinterpreted as ancient Egyptian
wisdom until hieroglyphics got deciphered, and finally acquiring esoteric associations
with the Hebrew alphabet and Kabbalah in the 19th century. When he
asserts that the tarot trumps have no underlying scheme, consisting of
essentially random images, it makes me wonder if he has not read Paul Huson’s
excellent Mystical Origins of the Tarot, which
gives a compelling argument that the trumps derive from well-known symbols and
characters appearing in medieval Catholic mystery plays used to teach Christian
mythology to a mostly illiterate society.
A good point
gets made that the symbolic system occultists historically embedded in tarot by
layering limited symbol sets one upon another yields a tarot that seems bloated
and vague. Yet instead of suggesting an expanded tarot without a 78 card restriction, the text switches to
discussing the 54-card Portals of Chaos deck, which seems a little odd because aside
from both consisting of “cards with pictures on them used by magicians”, they
have little, if anything, in common with each other. Rather, the Portals deck consists
of a pictorial collection of entities suitable for evocation and invocation,
with only minor application to other types of workings. In contrast, the tarot,
while useful in other types of magic, seems optimized for divination.
Next,
Carroll gives a quick explanation of the advice to “Enchant Long and Divine
Short”, talking about the exploitation of the indeterminacy that builds over
time, and in particular citing the extraordinary difficulty of magic such that
a 20% success rate with enchantment constitutes a useful skill, while 20%
success rate in divination would lead to plenty of errors if acted on. He notes,
however, that most diviners don’t do straight prediction so much as lateral
thinking based off of the randomized symbols used in the divination. At this
point, readers unfamiliar with Carroll’s theories might scratch their heads, as
he talks about how “they may get a flash of certainty when intuiting an
unexpectedly high probability sending a signal back from the future” which
refers to his theory of three-dimensional
time.
The
discussion of divination transitions to a more detailed analysis of evocation
and invocation by telling the reader that dealing with the cards as
representations of god-forms for working with should come before divining or
enchanting with them. Invocation consists of ritual procedures done with the
goal of getting possessed by an entity, while evocation seeks only
communication with, or command of, an entity. Such practices exist all over the
world, and though magicians argue about the reality of the gods and spirits
involved and how it all works, the techniques and expected outcomes remain the
same. So while most religious systems and many modern day non-chaos magicians
treat spirits as objectively real beings, Carroll says that most Chaos
magicians believe that invocation involves “calling forth” hidden parts of our
subconscious and that evocation involves creating an “imaginary friend by
controlled schizophrenia using ritual procedures which, as in Invocation,
provide protection against madness by using deliberate procedures of calling
and banishing.” As such, its grounding in the psychological paradigm goes a
long way towards appeasing atheists who might otherwise balk at the idea of
conjuring spirits.
Religions
tend to stick to evocation for communication in the form of prayer in order to
connect with their god-form and receive its inspiration and influence, while
often prohibiting invocation to possession and evocation for command because
these tend to disrupt established hierarchies by producing novel revelations
and power asymmetries. I suspect that a lot of the fracturing currently seen in
Pagan and magical communities comes from the popularization of the techniques
that generate new ideas and individualized traditions, but I don’t see this as
a bad thing, merely a proliferation to refill a void, much like the explosions
of biological diversity following mass extinctions. Eventually, I expect
memetic processes to lead to the settling out of major systems and institutions
will get built around them to handle the full range of personal revelations –
hopefully.
Next come
basic instructions on the use of the three grimoires. Magicians should work
with the elemental cards by invocation and evocation, but only evocation for
the simple elemental spirits (sylphs, salamanders, undines, gnomes, and sprites). This echoes the traditional advice, one doesn’t want to let a simplistic
‘lesser’ spirit possess them, likewise with gods or spirits with significantly
negative traits. One should invoke the eight major planetary gods as they
represent the basic selves of the integrated human personality and the magician
seeks to let them all express themselves to gain psychological health. The
bi-planetary gods in the system one can approach by invocation if one considers
their traits desirable, or by evocation to gain allies (which Carroll here
calls “daemons” as differentiated from “demons” which seem malicious and cause
harm, consisting of malfunctioning psychological modules in his view). Dealing
with the Elder Gods can easily produce demons and/or madness, and the magician
should have a thoroughly integrated personality established by working with the
planetary gods before considering encounters with the Elder Gods. This warning
sees much repetition throughout the text, with the preparatory work analogized
as building “sanity points”.
A short
interlude follows with general advice on divination, particularly cartomancy.
This almost seems obligatory simply due to having a deck of cards, even though
their size makes sortilege awkward and they don’t seem particularly suited to
divination. One suggestion in this section stands out to me – the idea that
divining the state of knowledge of yourself in the future provides a ready
magical link, because presumably you have a natural link with your future self.
At last we
reach the presentation of the Chaobala,
Carroll’s symbolic superstructure for arranging the forces and deities represented
in the Portals of Chaos deck and meant as an analogous replacement for the Kabbalistic
Tree of Life. In brief, at one end we find the five elements representing a
simple break down of our physical reality on earth, and at the other end five
Elder Gods who represent dangerous knowledge and various transhuman and alien
ideas. Between the two lies the “Octaris Mindstar”, a fully interconnected
octagon suggesting a complex psychological model of combinations of the eight basic
selves. The division seems like a natural one into world, self, and other.
Between the three realms lie two transition spheres: Baphomet, representing the
life of the biosphere or the World Soul lies between the elements and the
psyche, and Nyarlathotep, who acts as the emissary of the Elder Gods. Although Carroll says that the diagram
resembles a neural network rather than a tree, with the magician capable of
starting anywhere not just “the bottom”, the direction of ascent remains as
clear to me as in the Tree of Life – Earth, Planets, Stars. Indeed, he says
that rarely does a magician start off with the Elder Gods, and I imagine if one
did so it would produce similar results to a program of Qabalistic magic that
began with an attempt to cross the abyss at Da’ath.
Carroll
makes a couple errors in this section. He calls the popular Hermetic version of
the Tree of Life “the Naples arrangement”, attributing it to the Golden Dawn,
when actually the ‘Naples arrangement’ refers to Crowley’s sort-of-dimensional correspondences
for the Sephiroth on the Tree that he came up with while in Naples – descending
from the top as in the PPM model: point, line, plane, solid, motion/time,
consciousness, Ananda (Bliss), Chit (Thought), Sat (Being), and fulfillment.
“The Kircher Tree” refers to the popular form of the Tree of Life used in
modern Hermetic Qabalah
since the 17th century. Additionally, the statement “There is no
part of me which is not of the gods.” did not originate with Crowley. He
got it from Mathers, who got it from the Egyptian Book of the Dead.
The
description of the elemental and stellar pentagrams in the Chaobala mentions
“secondary spheres” between the major ones, presumably much like in the central
portion with the bi-planetary gods, but these oddly don’t actually appear in
the diagram. One must imagine that the text refers to an early version of the
glyph where the secondary spheres showed up in all three sections. Perhaps they
made it look cluttered, or maybe their inclusion suggested the need for many
more cards.
Despite
these minor issues, the arrangement of the Chaobalistic pantheon seems
reasonable. I have thought for many years now about the main idea – replacing
the top of the Tree with a multitude and reversing the causality. The rejection
and inversion of Neoplatonism seems like a growing realization among magicians;
John Michael Greer refers to the emerging religious sensibility that rejects the idea of wanting to escape from the
world, Jake Stratton-Kent talks about the monotheist derived, anti-cosmic,
world-hating aspects inherent in Neoplatonism and Qabalah in his Geosophia. Several
years ago, before reading these accounts, I decided to reject the cult of The
One and purged my magic of the Qabalistic monotheism that comes with stock
Hermeticism these days. So I sympathize with the need to redesign the Tree of
Life – I did it myself to suit my own revelations.
So when
Carroll writes, “Such transcendentalism, with its implicit denial of the value
of the lower emanations, would not have appealed to the classical pagans, and
today it fails to appeal to neo-pagans and post monotheist philosophers and
psychologists. Every pantheon or cosmogony resumes a theory of what the mind
does, or should do, and the theory that it should strive to become somehow
beyond worldly things and attain a heavenly disembodied state no longer seems
credible or attractive.”, I find myself nodding in agreement, and wondering
about how magicians with wildly different beliefs about the nature of magic,
spirits, and reality find themselves converging towards an idea that has seemed
heretical for an astrological age.
Oh, yes, welcome to year 5 of the Age
of Aquarius.