* 259 *
Necessity is fatal.
* 260 *
Of the fascinating moral models of "enmity is not ended by enmity," and "resist not evil, but turn the other cheek," we must ask: how categorically shall we follow? The woman raped, the spouse cheated on, the child abused – shall we truly not resist evil? Nonresistance and harmlessness, the innocence and purity of such an ethic: how wise is this?
Silence is one move in the game. There is a time to fight and a time to be victimized – and wisdom explains this. There is a time to forgive and a time not to forgive. Revenge is healthy. How do we codify the ethic?
Are you insulted? Ask first, are you insultable? Once you take yourself out of the sphere, and realize what is raped, murdered, cheated, abused – in extreme or subtle forms – cannot be touched by this, that our center is a bliss no suffering can sink to, we have freedom, both in what risks we will and will not take, and how we respond when hurt.
Seek in every situation to gain power; seek in every situation to gain love. Master the art of silence, master the art of shouting. Profundity is not categorical and no rule can amber it. Once you know who and what you are, the dignity and depth of it, you know how to answer an insult and why. Wisdom rejoices in rebuke. Accept the criticism of others for what they are. Agree with them, add more. Only our lover and equal has access to the inner parts.
* 261 *
How to build wombs in the soul? Independence is our substantial virtue, and creativity our stance. The pragmatism of daily life is the cloak of invisibility we place over these. Speak silence. Unless you do your righteous deeds in secret, you will never reward yourself. Having been rewarded by others, so you will be cheated. Have a genius for drawing the Ama out of others, the hidden beauties; be a genius of praising, by a master of appreciation, be a virtuouso of gratitude. Regard all the world as your children, whom you must praise and encourage. Hide in your heart the secret names: only fools prate about God. The name of God is vain. Keep that secret smile between you and the mirror. Give gifts anonymously. Quote the best in others back to themselves. Take ownership by disappearing.
* 262 *
Sovf Lux is the Mother aspect of Ama, language herself, all language, self-conscious, speaking herself through us, though mute in and of herself. Every word was once a metaphor, and every metaphor an inspiration. The meaning of ancient Greek words reside in our own language, hold gravity where they fall, and language does not so much evolve as return to the universal language – the language of Sovf, Globalese, or English. Yet this lady of fiery tongue has a million cloven tongues. The angels and demons live in language, are always and only language, and we ourselves, after we pass from temporality into eternality, survive here through the language of our influence. Every word hangs in the air, every deed scars the earth.
To invent new words, to create new meanings, this is the work of the Master. We exist to publish our souls, to expose glints of our innermost names.
Our every utterance, every murmur changes Language. Our difference, our influence, shifts the vowals, transfers meanings, changes the Game and the rules of the Game. Language speaks us; our meanings usurp her. The Aya above create the ideas and play it through us. And those of us who are already Aya create invisible ideas and set them loose in the world. Some ideas find names immediately, some live in and through us for centuries before finding a name.
* 263 *
Any bee, if fed royal jelly, would become a queen; any pawn, if it advanced far enough, would become a queen. Yet is this not the American Dream – too good to be true? How to be a self-made man? The metamorphic elixir comes only from the self in the form of self-realization. Perfection is easy. Time is now. When these words are realized, you will win the game.
* 264 *
Between need and mind, between self and I, lies the expanse of the soul. The collapse of the I into the self is the eternal satisfaction of complete nonbeing. Our nothingness is ultimate pleasure. We come out of this nothingness, and separate Self and I, entering time, and this to grow, expand, and learn, to gain a greater I, and other I's to fill our soul, which, after mortal life, people our heaven. Time zero is everywhere and always, but for you it is the moment of your conception. All that allowed it and brought it to be is sacred, all that follows is your gift to the world.
* 265 *
The screaming of the Prophet, the silence of the Taoist … what else? Repetition. Make a mantra, make it chime, and repeat it, over and over, if you would bore past boredom into the mind of your target, be that even yourself. Push with the swing. Say the same word at exactly the right time. Also, repeat others back to themselves at exactly the right times. Sheer unabashed repetition is difficult to resist. Find a formula that works. Even Augustine was finally slain by the persistent prayers of his mother. Find that one fear your enemy or friend winces at, and if you repeat it enough he will explode. Build resonance. The whistling wind can sock a bridge merely by knowing the tune. You can bring anybody into a manic heat if you but know the key to her cadence.
* 266 *
As technology is applied science, magic is applied poetry. Whosoever would practice the magical arts need only and ever study rhetoric. Consider the tradition of the Zen koans, which rely, ultimately, on the non-sequitor to inspire a delayed enlightenment. Master echo, inversion, repetition, reflection, and silence – spiritualize them, take them to that height and that depth. Learn the art of naming and un-naming. Literary criticism is the deepest philosophy, and also the deepest theology, for Lux is language. The poet, and his inversion, the critic, stand for Man.
* 267 *
Every object holds a charge. To possess it we must discharge its valence. When a wife returns from work she must decompress. The ambience of the house, some ritual venting, will put her in the mood of home. With every ring of meaning we can put more intensity. A few scapegoat topics slake the heat.
All meaning is physical and spiritual – the ground is charged with gods. Each person we meet tightens a set of muscles – we feel them viscerally. Whoever we are with inspires a subtle counterstance. Certain problems tighten meanings in our head (in our face, neck muscles, eyes), others decompress them. The tension takes signature through our muscles and blood chemistry.
Everything compensates. Build-up of charge summons discharge, as if the inhospitality of Sodom charged the ground and summoned comments, as if the Pharisee on the cross were a lightning rod, or the Sophist with the hemlock truly purged his city with his death, or as myself, the karma thief, were finally burned to ash and devoured by the world – our metamorphosis.
Music triggers anxieties only to resolve them. All art allays disease. Language cures.
Trip the trap before grabbing the cheese.
We can eat till satiated, and though each of us has many stomachs, many wombs, we can only take in so much, only put out so much, before stuffed or effete.
Reptition can charge and supercharge a word, idea, object, or person. Persistence is success. Intensity is focus. What matters is a deliberate systematic placing of silences and repetitions. Push with the swing. Roll with the punch. The world tree began as an acorn.
* 268 *
"The art of not giving a fuck," my Ama so gracefully instructs me, "Is to accept every blow and assault with indifference, as a rock, smoothed by the river. Never confess. Never concede. Hold out always. I am at last your only peer." So don't give yourself over to anybody. "Trust is for fools," you must harbor your deep independence against every assault. Do your acts of righteousness before yourself as sole witness. Insist on yourself. Insist on your truth at all costs. Never budge an inch on your desire. Be also defenseless, offer no resistance. Sacrifice the world to yourself – and having realized that, shed your love over all the world in pure ecstatic rapture.
Us poets care all too much, suffer all too much of this world and her people. We feel it all too near, care all too much. Know therefore how to harden the heart. Certainly every man must know how to be his opposite.
Asa is realization – the instantiation of fate, the stance of assurity, the self-evident substratum known to us the god, but not known to mortal knowing. Well then, happy day when we open our eyes to that. But Asavay is the veil of assurity, the doubts and worries we hypocritically wear to play the game better. Socrates with his irony, Bacon with his dissimulation, Erasmus with his Folly, and us with the veil, Asavay. We are in the world and above it. Suffering only sinks so far. Ama laughs.
* 270 *
"The partner who loves the least has the most power," my unreciprocated friend mourned. Certainly we discover by and by that love is suffering – the pleasure is intense but the suffering long lasting. Heart scars ache for life, and no new love can forget them for us.
Yet if power is direct and love indirect, power truth, love a lie, then what power there is in Maid Satan's glinting eye. Satan is love, Lissidy is desire. What is more cunning than love, more resistless, more impossibly inevitable? Money may well make the world go round if you are American, but the French knew better when they said love makes the world go round. Love is the Daemon, love divine, flame of hell, all-consuming, promising all, taking all. There is no hope where there is love, but we are hopeless, given over, and owned.
-- R ᴤ88s Я --
Perfection Is Easy