BAHLASTI PAPERS

Newsletter of Kali Lodge
Ordo Templi Orientis

April 1992 e.v. An IIIxxi Sol in Aries Volume VI, no. 8

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BAHLASTI PAPERS
c/o Kali Lodge
Ordo Templi Orientis
Post Office Box 15038
New Orleans, LA 70115

Deadline for May Contributions: April 12, 1992

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Contributors to this issue:

Soror Chen, Frater Turbator, Frater NChSh,
Frater Lugis Thor, Frater Numa 718, Nema,
C.R. Torrey, Margrat, Soror Nancy, Jet Satin

So, right after doing our Inter-Kontinental Kali Working,
my husband gave me a copy of Angry Women, and then we saw
Thelma and Louise. Now I'm sure that soon women are just
going to go crazy from all the shit they take all the time,
and they're going to start commiting random acts of violence
and desperation. This, then, is the "Wimmen on the Edge"
issue of the Bahlasti Papers, in which we will vent before
we explode or blow something up...


FROM THE DESK OF THE GRAND PUBAETTE


"Magnificent beasts of women with large limbs, and fire
and light in their eyes, and masses of flaming hair
about them...."

What a beautiful and powerful image! So why have I been
afraid to approach this article? Is it because my mother was
such a terror? Or because Crowley's Babalons ended up
abandoned dipsomaniacs, raving, mad, manic, lost? Or because
I fear that Babalon will forever challenge and ultimately
consume any shreds of security that I've managed to build
into my life? Babalon has been a difficult archetype for me
to understand. I was not raised by religious parents, so the
images of Babalon in Revelations are not particularly
shocking to me. My Great-Grandmother, after whom I was
named, was a Suffragette. My Mother was one of the strongest
and smartest people I have ever known. She was large-limbed
and athletic, fiery and fierce. But she was an unspeakably
difficult person. Madness overwhelmed her psyche, terrifying
us, her children. She was a Babalon locked in the cage of
society. My Mother's life was war. She taught her girls how
to be fierce, independent, and strong, but she also taught
us how to allure and control men. She understood sexual
politics, and feeling trapped by social programming, wanted
a way to control from within a woman's role, secretly and
manipulatively. In return, we were taught by our Father that
strong women are a problem, are out of line, unfeminine and
sick. Behave. Be nice. Don't be a raving bitch like your
Mother.
Things aren't so terribly different now than when I was
growing up. The Thompson Senate hearings showed our subtle,
secret, and instant mistrust of women. Strong women who are
equal and armed with truth and integrity are bad, dangerous,
unladylike.
Crowley tried to establish a different role for women.
Yet his basic lack of respect for, and understanding of
women is betrayed by the bulk of his writing. His novels, in
particular, preach his convenient and offensive view that a
woman's "True Will" should be that of a help-meet to her
man's work. He considered women to be an inferior subspecies
of humanity. His Scarlet Women embodied Babalon by virtue of
being fucked by "The Beast". Leah Hirsig's diaries chronicle
a tragic descent into madness. When Crowley changed bed
partners, Leah was abandoned by her lover, her identity, and
her purpose. She wisely longed to have a ritual in which
the old Scarlet Woman would pass on the bloodline to the new
Queen Bee, but she never recognised her own calling and
right, nor ever got beyond the idea of there being only one
title-bearing Babalon. I feel love and gratitude to Leah.
But she was a martyr, and martyrs are a waste.
Is being Babalon any different than being someone's wife?
A woman in a relationship is property, owned by the man.
She's his girlfriend, his wife. Nema once asked if Babalon
exists independently of The Beast...
A few years ago I met a woman who was Babalon to a famous
magician's Beast. It was a very important meeting for me.
She was beautiful-- looking like a crone with long hair and
an intricate network of fine lines all over her face. At the
time I was wondering if there were any female Magistrar
Templis out there. Her paintings are stunning, magical,
powerful. Her poetry staggering, inspired, and her catalog
of experience rich, extreme, vivid. I asked her to find a
scribe and pass on her bloodline, but she was uncomfortable
with the idea. I had the impression of a woman who was
locked into her own mythology-- her own exclusive hold on
experience, grief , mystery. She had grown bitter and mean
through coveting her title. I felt she had no more trust or
love for women than did society. She did not seem to feel
that all women can embody Babalon. I asked her if she
thought women could do a Babalon Working for themselves, as
opposed to having Babalon invoked upon them. She did not
answer. My meeting with this woman was devastating for me.
So much potential. A woman's genius. A gift to the world
that was not given. When you believe in your own myth, it
explodes.
In the years that I have spent in the O.T.O., I have
encountered two versions of the sexual role of Babalon as
wanton harlot: One in which a woman devotes herself to one
Beast and loves all men through him; and one in which a
woman has sexual relations with as many men as are willing
in order to fairly literally love "all". In this, as in all
things, I believe it is only valid to follow your own bliss.
Babalon's sexual license requires freedom from pedestrian
moral judgement. It is not easy to get around negative
self-image and not restrict behavior on one hand, or
overcompensate with wildly self-destructive or compromising
behavior on the other. But Babalon's beauty comes from
knowing her self, and radiating that self, unfettered, to
the world.
In the end, particular questions of Babalon's sexuality--
whether she should be promiscuous or monogamous, whether she
should be on top or bottom, etc., etc.--are really missing
the mark. These are intellectual questions that, for me,
reduce us to the literal and robs meaning of dimension.
I see "Babalon astride the Beast, holding the reins of
compassion that unite them" in a different light. Perhaps it
is because I feel women need to start invoking Babalon upon
themselves through acts of devotion and ritual. We need to
trust the image of the strong, powerful, glorious woman, and
let her come through us. For me, artistic creation is a
means of invocation. Artistic genius creates directly from
the Divine without translation, description, or explanation.
It requires an initial descent into Hell, but if you survive
you get strong enough to hold those reins of passion and
create-- genius!
I envision a world where all women are strong and
beautiful. I look forward to a world which reflects the
gifts of women's genius.
--Chen ____________________________________________________________


READER FEEDBACK



Dear Sallie:

My belief in the future of humanity has been sorely
tested this week. Yesterday was the woman who, not five
seconds after I showed her how to put her dog into a sit,
went back to yanking on the leash. Pity the poor dog! Today
was the 14 year old girl who'd already had chlamydia & an
ovarian cyst, somehow miraculously avoiding pregnancy. I
literally crossed my fingers that she wasn't pregnant, when
it came out negative I was able to get her a birth control
appointment that hour 'cause we'd had a cancellation. Her
fiance was in the waiting room, we had to give her state
funding because she didn't want her mom to know, even though
there was MediCal because last time she ran away & her mom
destroyed her birth control pills. I suggested the just-
state-funded Norplant since her mom wouldn't be able to do
anything about that!
Or the muscleman blonde boyfriend of another woman. I had
to ask someone 'cause he almost seemed like a stranger to
her from across the counter. She almost looked like she'd
cry when we asked her for a donation for her exam & pills,
she didn't have any money. He says "She doesn't have any
money? Uh, ok, here." Pulls out five bucks reluctantly &
with no sign of heart for her. God what a slime!!
I'm starting to wonder about having kids too. It's as if
we have to put them in training from infancy to save the
world. Move to the country, home-school, & on & on. But will
it be worth it. But if we don't.......
Love,
Margrat
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dear Chen,

Do what what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.

Glad Yule, joyful Solstice, stimulating Saturnalia, etc!
Re: the future of the planet, etc. If the trend of
environmental awareness continues, there's hope of turning
around the pollution situation. There is a rolling weight
of public opinion heading in that direction, laws being
enacted & enforced, international agreements being devised,
signed, new cleanup and recycling methods being devised,
once endangered species being re-established.
The current chaos in various governments being destroyed
and reborn and in the global economic situation seems to be
a necessary turbulence for a new (and better?) general kind
of world to be born. Ra Hoor Khut, he cut no slack, Sistah!
That which used to suffice no longer works, so we have to
kick our collective ingenuity into overdrive to correct the
results of our past mistakes and find new ways to live. This
is how history works--only now we know more than we ever did
(science), we can do more than we ever have (technology) and
we can reach more people than we were ever able to before
(global satellite TV, computer nets, World Music). Whole
nations and peoples are becoming aware of each other and
learning to care about each other.
I've always held that the point of being a MagicKian is to
nudge the seeds of events in directions recommended by True
Will, then shepherding them along to manifestation.
Why else bother with Magick if one doesn't use it to
change the world as well as to change oneself? It really
works! In a real way, the Kali-Yuga and the Aeon of Horus
are doing what they're supposed to do: destroying the
unworkable, the obsolete, the stagnant and Restriction.
I see the Aeon of Maat also in effect in the emerging of
the new World Consciousness through our new level of
complexity and connections. He knocks 'em down and She
reconfigures 'em differently; this is the essential opera-
tional mode of the Double Current of Horus and Maat.
(Evolutionary note - in my own course of Initiation:
first I was a Thelemite, then a Thelemite/Maatian, then a
Thelemite/ Maatian/ Pan Aeonian? adi Nath/ Wiccan/ Chaosian/
friend of the Loas/etc.)
Pan-Aeonic (or Panaeonic) Magick uses the good parts of
all Aeonic formulas to tailor/fit an Operation to its
intended End. It balances out Uncle Al's particular pet
peeves with Christianity with clear and honest assessments
of the true and useful aspects of Osiris. It holds that the
course of human Initiation is cumulative, not linear, and
that all formulas are in effect now, past, present, and
future. Since all phenomena is illusion, time and sequence
are illusions.
In my opinion, the most effective method of changing the
world involves certain essentials. The first step is
contemplative and analytical: what is the problem situation?
Break it down into its component parts. Big topics, like the
current state of the world, can be seen to be composed
of a large and completely related number of sub-topics --
pollution, physical; air, water, soil, food-chain, radio-
actives, noise, electrical, X-ray, broadcast. Pollution,
human; politics, war, terrorism, apartheid, restriction,
dictatorship, intimidation, racism, fundamentalism, etc.
(Human pollution functions on Assiah as well as on the Lower
Astral.) Roots: the invention of agriculture and the sub-
sequent increase in human numbers, the discrepency between
technological ability and ethical application, the idea of
the self contained in one skin. Exploitable benefits: it's
a pressured situation in "Kether is pressure" Dion Fortune;
the greater the number of units & the greater the complexity
of their connections, the higher the degree of intelligence
that can manifest; there's a great collective desire for
equilibrium, which aligns with Nature's desire according to
the laws of physics and ecology.
I'm sure you can come up with many more aspects of the
problem situations.
The next step is establishing a variety of Magickal Links
with what you see as the key aspects of the problem, both
positive and negative. Take out membership in some environ-
mental organizations that already exist; collect newspaper
and magazine photos of key individuals in industry and
government; recycle at home and work as much as possible,
turn out the lights, take "country showers" etc.; keep tabs
on local, state and fed laws and regulations, news, etc., so
you know what's going on, to the extent you judge necessary.
The third step lies in selecting specific energy applica-
tions on the Magickal level -- tipping judge's decisions,
reducing or enhancing a spokeperson's credibility; it's
valid to do rites of general intent, also "healing for
Earth" rituals, etc.
The fourth step is to devise proper rituals and do them,
either solo or with colleagues.
The fifth step is live in confidence that the Magick's
working. Encourage it as the occasions to do so arise, and
let it go as work-in-progress, well-set-up. Totally banish
any lust for results. Let your example speak to others.
Okay, there are other things like broadcasting on the
astral your lucid dreaming visions of how it could be,
invoking appropriate godforms, etc, but remember to maintain
your own balance in interests and activities.
In all, if you have a grasp of the essentials of a
situation and on how to raise the right energy, you can make
changes in your world.
Death is fascinating in that it's universal, inevitable
and so very final. Both my parents died of cancer too--I
wish I could have been closer to them at the time, but I was
too invloved with having babies and tending them. Alas. AIDS
is a slow & nasty way to go, I agree. There's no virtue in
suffering; maybe the Hemlock Society has a point -- ("Final
Exit" on the bestsellers list?) One of the good things about
death (in my opinion) is that the rich and powerful die just
as dead as the poor and miserable.
Death is the new taboo, now that sex has been demystified.
Tsk-tsk. I think the reason for many people's avoidance of
thinking of death is not just the personal finality of it,
but death dispels many illusions about the importance of
one's preoccupations. Fame, wealth, control and power over
other people are utterly useless at the gate of death.
I don't think spiritual "brownie points" (merit) are of
much use either, since we judge ourselves. It's a great
meditation.
SO, be of good cheer -- everything's constantly changing
and Magick gives you a means of directing that change. A.C.
was not kidding about the essentials, though he wasn't above
some elaborate leg-pulls on the details. Work is the
Sovereign Remedy for Melancholy of the spirit and it sure
beats being bored.
Blessings of the Newborn Sun be upon you! (Existence is
pure joy.)
Love is the law, love under will.

IPSOS
____________________________________________________________


SIGHTINGS OF INTER-KONTINENTAL KALI WORKINGS!


KALI LODGE O.T.O.
=================
Feb. 8, 1992 e.v.
4:30 -- 6:49 am

WILL FOR WORKING: To initiate positive change and activity,
and to inspire understanding within the confines and
conditions of the Kali-Yuga.

WORKING:
-Banishing
-Exchange white tattoos of Kali's name in Sanskrit above
Mulhadhara
-Opening of Voudon Doors:
--Draw ve-ve
--Libations on ve-ve
--Calling: Marassa
Morts
Mysteres
--Hymn to Kali
-"5 m's" offerings to KALI in Binah (we couldn't think of
anything that we could consume that would be taboo to each
of us, so we opted for toxic offerings from the KALI-YUGA,
all tastefully served on styrofoam).

Traditional We substituted

Wine ----- Jaegermeister
Meat ----- Red diet jello (made with horse hooves
and cyclamates)
Fish ----- Canned tuna fish
Mudra ----- Red Snoballs (Pestulent little red
sponge cakes, encased in a layer
of red jelly and coated with coconut
sprinkles, then sealed in cellophane)

Placed all offerings on the ancestor altar which is
made of animal bones.

Fifth offering was tantric in nature, with repetitions of
Kali mantra throughout.
-Sent offerings out across the Aethyrs through the Cry of
the Thirty Aethyrs, concentrating on the 16th Aethyr to
coordinate with Oceania's work. Annointed tattoos & contact
items (Kali doll from Oceania, sharks tooth necklace
from Icehouse, etc..) to connect with those working in
other Temples.
-Banishing

EXPERIENCE: I had worked all night at the club. Arrived in
the Temple at exactly 4:30 am, as intended, to begin the
ritual. No sense of time. Distinctly intoxicated through-
out, from initial banishing to final banishing.
TATTOOS: Felt pain. Kali Yuga. We gave pain as ritual
charge to all of us working across the Aethyrs. A gift of
love, as a mother giving birth through pain. The ink went
into the belly...
OFFERINGS: Felt increasingly intoxicated with each offering.
Felt like sacraments (making sacred). Also felt the humor
of our offerings. Kali beyond time and meaning, laughing
and dispelling terror! Our offerings were of the Kali-Yuga.
Her yoga is sacred. Pain again, & consumption. The effect
was transmuting.
TANTRA: Intensely sensual, and so much love. Wanted to stay
in Kali without intellectualizing, so hung out in mantra.
All felt warm and pleasurable. Kali image as hideous dark
crone with drooping breast straddling Siva - but beautiful
somehow, and lythe. Perception of pain and sorrow and
limits. Thoughts of love and death and reabsorbtion. Not
specific thoughts. Very soothing somehow. Wavering sorrow
and bliss. Kali's image moved down around me. We were
consumed: sacrament.
CRY OF THE AETHYR AND ANNOINTMENT: Felt our environment move
out, out--Icehouse, Australia, Black Moon. Saw fire dance
on the funeral pyre. The Hindu wife throwing herself on the
funeral pyre. Saw skeletons dancing on the fire. Saw Aussie
Lodge as in Chod rite--on funeral pyre, where flames were
demons eating them. This funeral pyre was within Kali's
womb (which, at this point, was my womb). The terrible
mother. Her blood is fire. Her eyes are aflame with blood.
Her children are born from her womb of fire. Into a
terrible world of flame. The water of her womb--lava, on
which flow her children, are born.
-There were other flashes--perceptions which seemed revela-
tory, but fleeting--like drug revelations--
-For all those involved in the working--felt we touched.
Bonded. Felt love as for beautiful brothers and sisters.
A beginning, or rather, the beginning of a continuance.

* * *

RESULTS: Next day in conversation with Brother, he quoted
"Existence is pure joy". Even in the Kali-Yuga, with Aids,
cancer, drug addiction and violence in the streets, etc--
The answer, without exception or explanation or excuse.
"Experience is pure joy." This is my experience within the
ritual, and my request for understanding within the condi-
tions of the Kali-Yuga. The trance of world sorrow trans-
forming into pure joy, beyond time--
-Begin Tunnel Workings with Black Moon--new current, working
the Shadow paths and involving magical techniques that are
new and stimulating to us--
-Communications from Icehouse that reflect very strong per-
ceptions & efforts at transcending within constrictions of
the Kali-Yuga.
-Several new women appear at the Lodge who are strong,
beautiful, intelligent, motivated, etc., etc., including a
pilgramette from--Australia! She wanted a ve-ve tattoo,
and taught us an aboriginal song that welcomes & says good-
bye to spirits.

So we seem to be experiencing positive change and new
currents. We are gaining insights into the Kali-Yuga. We
are receiving continued involvement from the people who
worked the ritual. Also on a purely material level, Kali
has been bestowing boons and removing obstacles at my hobby
job--in spite of peculiar mechinations and efforts to the
contrary from local politicians.


BLACK MOON
==========

February 8th 1992. New Orleans.
From an entry in the Magickal Record of Frater Lugis Thor.

Rite: Kali
Will: Manifestation for change. In conjunction with
Australian Oasis and Kali Lodge.
Love: Shortly before dawn.
In Temple on 3rd Street.
Crossroads in Air.
Offerings of heat to Marassa, Mort, & Mysteries.
Call to Kali. Pulling in her presence for the area.
Success: Firm current.

Comment: Sensed Kali's presence as Erzulie Ge Rouge. The red
eyes burn with the fires needed to cleanse the old. I was
sick during the rite. Fever, etc. Possibly the fever
(internal fire) is a cleansing agent for me. As above, So
Below... as within so without. A rite to cause such change
in an external manner could call for internal change as an
assertion of balance. I entered the temple in darkness and
walked into it from the light of day.
(As I type this it is two weeks after the ritual.
One event of possible connection is the criminal conviction
of the city official I personally view to be most destruc-
tive. In calling Kali I gave no charge as to specific
action. Simply a "manifestation for change." It is interest-
ing to note that the newspaper made much of the appearance
of the officials eyes during the conviction. Stating that
they showed the effects of crying. This mirrors the red eyes
of the Erzulie who came during the rite.)


OCEANIA OASIS O.T.O.
====================

THE RITE OF KALI: a personal overview.

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.

The Rite of Kali was celebrated by Oceania Oasis O.T.O. on
Feb. 8, 1992 e.v. at 8:30 pm. It took place at our local
Neighbourhood Centre Hall & was attended by at least 40
people. The idea was to have a small & wild, word of mouth &
participants only affair. Although it ended up being not
that small, by the end of the night most people were
partaking in the celebration of a free-form "voudoun" jam
session & the dichotomy between "audience" & "participants"
dissolved. From the feedback we received after the perform-
ance it appeared that a lot of people wanted to join in but
thought their involvement may be an intrusion on the circle
drawn at the opening of the Rite. From a dramatic & magical
perspective this gives us something to go on for the future,
this being the first "home-grown" performance the Oasis has
done, yet part of a continuing series of explorations we are
undergoing as a group--internally for the dynamic and
externally to whomsoever is interested in kicking out the
jams with us. The Rite was time synchronised with a Kali
Lodge Kali working which (as we found out with the first
annual synchronised Gnostic Masses with the Norway Lodge)
certainly adds to the astral/magical force of the event. Our
collaborations (& collaborators) were not limited to O.T.O.
initiates, accompanying us were several musicians, a notable
Performance Art Group (who travelled to Sydney for the
event) & a web of other people, smoke machines, drummers,
screamers & kindred spirits. At present a video tape of the
event is being edited and we'll be sending Kali Lodge one
when its ready. The exploration into the audio visual is
also new and thus from an approximately 3 1/2 hour Rite
there's 1/2 hour of potent TV viewing. Better than Twin
Peaks.
The Rite took several months to organize, & although
essentially dependent on free-form improvisation, was held
together by an inspired interpretation of LAShTAL. It was a
thelemic investigation of the realms of the Goddess which by
definition, incorporated the first "paradox" of philosophy,
enabling a multi-cellular group organism to successfully
work together. During the months of investigative invocation
invocation by a select few, various phenomena arose which
(as the "receiver" of the format and idea of the Rite,
organiser and Master of the Oasis) I found personally
significant. Several participants went on "pilgrimages" so
to speak & returned with new and interested associates, and
truly inspired "illuminations" of the Rite, the Goddess and
their unique role in it. The verse, poetry and theatric
interpretations prepared & executed on the night bore ample
witness, & supported a personal maxim: Do a little research
& save a lot of magick. Kali was, however, true to form &
burdensome phenomena also arose. As the destroyer of
obstacles, it was a period of time where obstacles of
internal and external natures were thrown in our faces and
exposed in full colour. Several climaxed prior to the Rite
& it was the test of our individual thoughts, actions & will
which marked the purity of the invocation & our beings from
those that would seek to shave our golden wings. Within the
"tantrums" & "turmoil" came a truth of exposition which is
bliss, and the Oasis unfolds and develops in contrast to the
derision of any fleeting amoebic presence which seeks to
hamper & thwart. Interestingly, the night was marked by
torrential (& unseasonal) rain which perhaps washed in the
celebrants! Kali is the monsoon, destroying in order to
create & sustain growth. Here then, is our Rite:

Music going on throughout.

L. Liber Yod. "Group" consciousness brought to "the one".
The hell-broth lit.
A. The one perceives the mysteries of "Space" and "Time".
The spiralling emanations of Goddess announce their
realm. Libations passed around for within this
comprehension is drunkeness of the innermost sense.
ShT. The Fire-Snake rises from the flames of the hell-
broth. The concealed force of Shiva and the innocent
devotion of the child. The child recited to the
Goddess, climbing the tree of the Mahavidyas, Shiva
conceals within the veil, reciting the cry of the 16th
Aethyr. From beyond the Tree in the aethyrs is the
bliss of the Goddess experienced. The veil is torn,
the Black Mother is seen in the spirit of the icon,
experienced in the rhythms of dance.
A. The one, striving ever unto more, perceives the
function of "Time" within "Space", the spirals of
understanding are exhalted and beyond. Times stands
still & takes a step aside as
L. Shiva awakens the dragon of the aethyrs, the Beast
that is will upon understanding of "the woman satis-
fied", Kali; justice and adjustment. Fire dance
spirals to the centre where the will child is
delivered from the one to the many. Infinite & finite
dissolve. Vel Reguli closes. The Goddess is manifest
and communes to us individually through the sounds,
cries, rhythms which follow. Scrying through the smoke

(We have since gone on to a weekly series of Enochian work
with the Aethyrs) I have a natural tendency to metaphysics,
which Chen's deadline doesn't allow for. I'm sure you get
the picture & I look forward to passing on the vid, & to the
voudoun link up May 23. To Chen, Turbator, Icehouse & the
web-worlds brotherhood--stay tuned, we'll be seeing you--&
don't let the bastards grind you down.

Love is the law, love under will.

Frater Numa 718
Oceania Oasis Master
O.T.O. ___________________________________________________________

KALI

by Jet Satin

(Extracted from his self-composed script for the Kali Rite)

Fuck!!! How Awesome thou art--oh mistress--my mysterious
mistress
I shall shake and quake for thee for a century, a millenium-
still thou art the all--
the eternal sacrament--
I am dirt that makes up the mountain
I am a particle of air which the spirit breathes
In you there is all--solace--embrace--music--entirety--I
race through wind time-space to be with you--and here--here
in this domain your children gather--oh multiform spirit
whose gaze you wander--
fire from the depths--
this time is so magnificent

In your hair is the fabric of star-dust--you cast out every
lie until the bare face hangs out--the bare beautiful face
soul spirit harmony glide collide with infinitesimal shards
of holy glory. In your womb--your sacred chamber--I am
all--every sparkle--every fleck
-I rise up in your heart--you light my way--happy in your
womb
-dazzled by your bright start Venus
-thrilled by your hard core penis--inherent in you is the
male principle
-when true so willing to serve your true formula that will
make the universe swirl--swirl round--make me dizzy with
your feats of glory--passion--fire--spirit lay me bare
before a shrine of emerald--RUBY--LAPIS LAZULI-
Infest the heavens with your unholy stare--Queen of hell the
bright mare riding through night--unbearably bright--fucking
up mundane thoughts of peers and place until all settles in
your divine grace--cut-cut-cut away the bonds and fragments
of time that imprison the majority in their mediocrity--let
the thrill and spasm of your dance catch fire in the
splendid dance that caught Shiva unaware beneath your feet--
without a care he found rivers of consciousness flowing out
his brain--the bare reality--unframed--art spills out and
with a shout arrives--"we're here" Time is--writ all over
the graffitti streets--I AM IN LOVE--IN LOVE WITH THEE--thy
greatness surpasses eternity--through the hordes and hosts
and ranks of heaven--through the holy number which adds to
seven--through the gates and perils of infinity--I lay me
down--offer my crown--my blood--my sap--all my being--I am a
spark in the void which you embody--oh slut of hell--oh
unholy folly--I am all I am--am all I see and all you be is
all I need--I devote my love--my soul my seed my honour--
born of lust in your eternal rapture--bury me well oh bride
of hell and I shall cast my only spell--made for you in this
holy moment--from the dust of the cosmos and the seed of
ferment.
-----------
There is silence in this place--and it is of you
-----------
Hush--I see shadows leaking--and they are of you
-----------
Leak into the night space--
They are of you. ____________________________________________________________


ONE ASPECT...


I offered to meet Alyssa right after her appointment. I
knew how she'd be feeling. Most of the restaurants were
closed in our off-season tourist town, but we found one
place and settled in. I was still waiting to hear my own
test results and was hiding my fears, because Alyssa had
enough to bear. Her mother had also died of breast cancer,
and now her sister had it, too. Alyssa had been living with,
and caring for her father, since his stroke, shortly after
her mother's death. "I have to," she'd been saying simply
for the last 5 years. What I planned to do for her on this
day, was give her the chance to be with someone who cared.
If you tell me about yours," she'd said, "I'll feel like I
can tell you about mine."
I'd agreed. But she didn't need to know the level of my
terror. The images of my mother appearing unbidden in my
mind. My mother nauseous and sick with "chemo". My mother
raw with radiation burns. The holes where she used to have
arm muscles and breasts, the science fiction transformation,
when some doctor decided to give her male hormones, because
her female hormones were the "problem". The bloating from
the cortezone. The machine they strapped her into after an
operation to prevent bed sores. How many operations had
there been? Wasn't the whole hospital like one relentless
machine? A meat grinder.
I had to get past the torturous memories. I told Alyssa
about my 1'st awareness of my breasts when I was developing.
I remembered how delightful and warm they felt when I tucked
my knees up to my chest. I remember, also, the old elevator
man who poked at my breasts and prodded them with his bent
fingers. They were young and tender and it hurt. It hurt
also to see my sister's terrified face as she pressed
against the back of the elevator. Now my breasts had bruises
from the "aspirating" needles the doctor shoved into the
hard cysts.
I wanted to live. I didn't want anyone coming at me with
a scalpel. Alyssa & I made a pact. "Let's not get it," we
promised.
It was then she pointed out the place was full of women.
No men. Just women and small children. Some of the women I
knew (it's a small town). We looked around, saying hello
here and there, and I realized one of the women, Susan, was
someone I'd heard about. She had a particularly fast-moving,
virulent form of breast cancer. I asked her how she was
doing.
"Well I'm up and out; it's a good day," she answered.
"Tomorrow I go in for more chemotherapy." She talked about
how sick it made her for how long. "I guess it has to, or
it wouldn't be doing anything to the cancer." "Like labor
pains," someone said. All of the women in the room were
turned to her, encouraging her to go on. Alyssa said that
she and I were "high risk." "We're all high risk," Susan
said. She was in the habit of helping others with their
feelings. She talked of her husband's difficulties in
dealing with her illness, and her 5 yr. old's & 2 yr. old's
trouble with it. "I can't take care of them." (It sounded
like the hardest part of all for her.) "I get too sick. I
just have to do what I can for myself. I'm just taking in
the love people give me and trying to survive."
We talked on. All of us. We understood her. We gave
her the chance to vent her feelings. We learned from her.
She expressed our anger that women have to face these
statistics, that so many of us are dying, and that our
society seems to accept this price that we are paying for
the way we all live, producing pollution and other stresses
on an unparalleled level. We told her she was not alone.
We felt unified. Any one of us might be facing her trial
next.
While she went to the bathroom, we signed up on her
friend's schedule for bringing meals, for taking care of her
children.
Alyssa & I hugged each other before we parted. We don't
know that we have cancer, we'll deal with it as best we can.
Meanwhile, let's just live.
Neither of us has cancer, now. Our test results were
both o.k. We both still have lumps and have to return every
three months to the surprisingly considerate male doctor
who operates on women's breasts here. Susan is still
receiving as much chemotherapy as she can stand. She and
her family still need help. In the month since we met, two
more women friends of mine have just gone through similar
cancer scares. We're still angry. We have to figure out
our own personal balances between trying to devote energy to
learning about this, doing something about it, and just
living. With daily reminders, we must live with our fear,
and the fears of those who love us. Just one aspect of the
female experience in 1992.

Soror Nancy ____________________________________________________________


BUSINESS


by C.R. Torrey


J. P. Stewart, importer, financier, entrepreneur, one
time pornographer and drug dealer, was shown into the
bishop's office without delay. As he entered the sumptuously
decorated office, J.P. was met and graciously greeted by the
bishop, a man of portly middling height and balding pate.
"I'm so glad you could come today Mr. Stewart. Please sit
down, won't you?"
J.P. allowed the inane pleasantries to pass as he settled
himself into one of the two high backed, leather chairs
located in front of the bishop's capacious mahogany desk.
Despite his tall, rugged frame, the chair fit J. P.
comfortably.
"So, Mr. Stewart," said the bishop, "perhaps it would be
best if we got right down to business?"
"By all means," J. P. returned smilingly.
"Very good." The bishop paused momentarily, his expres-
sion slightly nonplused, before continuing. "The reason I've
asked you here is really a simple one. We've talked several
times before. In fact, you approached me on the first
occasion, if you recall. So far we haven't been able to
reach a consensus. I want to change that."
" I couldn't agree with you more, your grace."
The bishop cleared his throat before speaking. "Holy
Mother Church wants you back. You were born in the church.
Your dear mother raised you in the church. You belong with
us. Let me help you. Let Holy Mother Church help you. Tell
me how I can ease your return to the fold."
And now to the kill, thought J.P.. "Your grace. Of course
I want to return to the fold (not to mention gain the
support I need from you in order to secure my mayoral
candidacy). After rethinking everything, I've decided
there's really only one thing holding me back."
"And what is that--my son?" the bishop asked, a benevo-
lent smile beginning to spread across his ruddy countenance.
"It's the condition of tithing. Ten percent of my gross
personal income is just too much. I'm being pressed right
now from other quarters. I am prepared, however, to offer
seven and a quarter percent of my gross, payable quarterly."
The bishop's beatific expression fled, replaced by a
combination of indignation and worry. "But Mr. Stewart, the
tithe isn't something bargained over. It's a holy command-
ment of God. By its very definition it means a tenth part.
No one question of that!"
J.P., without losing the tone of confidence in his voice,
said, "Come, come, your grace, everything is negotiable.
The salary I receive from my corporation is negotiable; so
too should be a tithe from it. This is a new age, an age of
financial options...options with a new vocabulary and new
values. Surely you won't turn me down on a mere technical-
ity? I know the church is under heavy financial burdens.
Your new cathedral has barely begun construction. And let's
not forget the mission you run downtown. It must be a con-
siderable drain on your resources. This seven and a quarter
percent would be a great help to you, the answer to your
prayers. Many parishioners offer little or nothing. I'm
offering a large sum! To show my good intentions, I've come
prepared to offer you one hundred thousand dollars in
earnest money." At this point, J. P. smoothly reached into
his coat pocket and withdrew a check. Without ceremony, he
placed the pre-filled bank draft face up on the desk. He sat
quietly until the bishop had picked up the check and looked
it over, excitement registering in his eyes. When the
timing was right, J. P. continued, "Would you turn me away
over a question of scriptural interpretation?"
A pained expression crossed the bishop's face, inner
turmoil obviously tearing him in two directions. Finally,
he drew a breath and said, "This 'scriptural interpre-
tation', as you put it, Mr. Stewart, has the sanction of
thousands of years of theological tradition behind it. It's
impossible. I can't make any concessions about the tithe. To
do so would put your very soul at risk."
"Your grace, don't you think my soul's at greater risk if
I fail to come back to the church at all? Wouldn't it be
better to come part way back now than to put it off and risk
never coming back?"
"I'm sure your reasoning seems perfectly sensible to you,
Mr. Stewart, but God's not interested in fence sitters. With
Him, it's all or nothing. Besides, God blesses the full
tithe payers, not only in heaven but on earth as well. Maybe
it would help you to think of it as an investment."
"What could be, isn't the same as what is, your grace.
I'm a business man. I have many outstanding responsibilities
and debts of my own. It isn't as simple as you make it out
to be. The bottom line is, I just can't afford to pay ten
percent. Surely God understands. For that matter, who's to
say the money I've invested in society wasn't a tithing of
sorts. Perhaps I've been paying a tithe for years. Look at
all the jobs I've created through the investment of my
capital. I've helped people to own a piece of the American
dream!"
"Listen, I'm willing to reasonable. I'll even go another
quarter percent. Seven and a half is more than generous. It
can do a lot of good for the church."
"I'm touched by your good works and intentions, Mr.
Stewart. They do you credit. What you say is true. You've
done much for society. Without men such as yourself, our
great country wouldn't enjoy the immense bounty it now does.
What you do and have done is all a part of God's plan. He
wouldn't have made you so influential if it weren't.
However, God, in His wisdom, has decreed that we should give
back to him a tenth part of the blessings He has showered
upon us. Through the Scriptures we are clearly shown that
the tithe is a consecrated sacrament. It can't be altered
or changed at man's whim. Who are you or I to think we know
better than God what we can or can't afford?"
Pleased with his inspired oratory the bishop beamed with
kindly benevolence. He failed to note the frown spreading
across his guest's face.
For his own part, J. P. was none too happy about the
bishop's recalcitrance. Finally he asked, "And if it's not
possible for me to come up with all the money, are you
saying I will definitely not be considered a member in good
standing?"
"Come, come, Mr. Stewart. Don't make us out to sound so
mercenary! It's not so much the amount of money, it's the
principle of the thing. Tithing is a commandment of the
Lord. I'm not the one who requires this of you, God does."
J. P. allowed a hint of barely controlled anger to creep
into his voice. "What makes you think I haven't already
reconciled my offer with God? Who can say He didn't send me
to you with this offer?"
"Nonsense, Mr. Stewart. Why would he give others the
commandment of the tithe and suddenly change his mind for
you? He just doesn't work that way."
"I've heard churchmen themselves say God works in
mysterious ways."
"No man is privy to God's thoughts and actions, but He
gave us His commandments to follow without deviation. We
just can't pick and choose between them to suit our fancies.
We must accept them as they were given to us. In this way
only can we hope to find favor in His eyes."
Suddenly, the repartee and posturing J. P. usually
enjoyed, grew tiresome. The bishop was either far shrewder
and craftier than he had given him credit for, or far more
obtuse. Unwilling to seem desperate, J. P. decided it was
time to cut the meeting short. "Your grace, we both agree
it's time for me to return to the 'fold', but we both also
know there are many folds out there. Perhaps I was wrong in
thinking this was the right one for me."
J. P. stood, stretching out his hand to retrieve the
check the bishop was still holding. After taking it back,
he turned, and, without another word, headed for the office
door. While reaching for its ornate handle, he heard the
bishop speak hurriedly behind him. J. P. smiled secretly to
himself.
The import magnate turned back to face the cleric, an
expectant look in his eyes. The bishop, somewhat embar-
rassed, repeated his last words while simultaneously
attempting to recover his composure. "Nine percent, Mr.
Stewart, and that's my final offer!"

The End ____________________________________________________________

KALI LODGE KALENDAR

APRIL

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.

We're back.

Sunday, April 5th: Pathworking--Art. At the Artsy-Fartsy
Lodge. 6:00 p.m. Bring a drum & get creative.

Wed/Thu/Fri, April 8th-10th: It's that time of year again.
We'll do something: Light candles, read aloud,
eat dessert, & enjoy Life Light Liberty & Love--

Sunday, April 12th: Nochie Voodoo seance in the Forbidden
Zone with the green and puce guys. 6 p.m. in the
Temple.

Sunday, April 19th: Loa Ritual--Maza. Bring a drum and
something lunar to feed the Loa. 10 p.m.

Sunday, April 26th: Gnostic Mass. 6 p.m. in the Temple.
$2.00 donation which will be put to the "Next
Year in Australia fund."

Always call first to make sure we haven't
forgotten, or won the lottery and split.

Love is the law, love under will.

-Chen

-oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo--oOo-



Bill Dean
http://ricksbbs.synchro.net:8080
telnet://ricksbbs.synchro.net:23
---
þ Synchronet þ Rick's BBS telnet://ricksbbs.synchro.net:23