Upon digging into the ethereal realm. A good strong iron shovel at hand. Spiritually penetrating our inner selves. Breaking the pots of our never ending narcissistic enlargement. Descending down & down into the inferior regions of our outward life, down under all corporal imaging or personal or collective phantasmagoria. The more we dig, the deeper the great gap or chasm we make, ripping into the curtain show of this world’s outside worries. Still, on the public square in the middle of town the kids are doing kids’ things. Electricity is only a spectral indication of a lower energetic form, combusted. Combusting. A reactionary chemical propriety of what we would call the sign of living matter. The energetic consequence of the intimate intermolecular correlation of thriving individual animated things. Whether little or big. Eliphas Lévi thought it the Universal Agent of all things. The Universal Mercury. The Anima Mundi. The Mercurii Mundi. Paracelse’s AZOTH. Little do people know that there is neither an electrical form of anything nor substantial electrical entity, we could posit as absolutely existentially real or necessary. That would give birth to anything. Tesla knew this. But so did the many, & I mean many Alchemists of Antiquity. Let alone propose this shadow element of Nature as a cause of anything. It would be like saying when a guy & gal fuck, it’s their shadows on the walls of their bedroom made them do that. Made it happen. The Sadhus say rub the wood! You need 2 to make a baby. But did the baby make them do it? In masturbation there can only be Golems & Homunculi. Creatures without any individual sentient life vitality! It’s the living soul makes what we call existence, come into apparent being on this world’s illusory heart rending stage. Where ever we go, where ever we chance to engage something. There is a golden substantial non undulatory essence, vibrates between all things as well as within our very physical being. In all the outside decorum we would call reality. Real. A pocket of AIR. The Void in the SEED. But no thing, whatever it be, can stand upon itself. Without another standing next to it. In any case outside in the court yard, where the grass sometimes grows, when there’s enough humidity. Yet it’s certainly not the electrical tendrils between these entities of all kinds, that communicates to them the least amount of life. These electrical manifestations are but due to the loss of the life force itself of things. The Ancients; or at least those ancients who were not as stupid as the ancients of their time, nor as we are today, called this the Fountain of Youth. The Fountain of Life, Fons Vitae. The Tree of Life which IS IN PARADISE. It is Life’s foundation. Though invisible. Surrounds us constantly, without remiss. God’s Angel, the Higher Self overshadowing the ephemeral well being of each hair, if you still have some, on your body. The Protector of the Innocent. The Vital […]