Utopia as Emergence Initiating a Truth. Thought of the Day 104.0


It is true that, in our contemporary world, traditional utopian models have withered, but today a new utopia of canonical majority has taken over the space of any action transformative of current social relations. Instead of radicalness, conformity has become the main expression of solidarity for the subject abandoned to her consecrated individuality. Where past utopias inscribed a collective vision to be fulfilled for future generations, the present utopia confiscates the future of the individual, unless she registers in a collective, popularized expression of the norm that reaps culture, politics, morality, and the like. The ideological outcome of the canonical utopia is the belief that the majority constitutes a safety net for individuality. If the future of the individual is bleak, at least there is some hope in saving his/her present.

This condition reiterates Ernst Bloch’s distinction between anticipatory and compensatory utopia, with the latter gaining ground today (Ruth Levitas). By discarding the myth of a better future for all, the subject succumbs to the immobilizing myth of a safe present for herself (the ultimate transmutation of individuality to individualism). The world can surmount Difference, simply by taking away its painful radicalness, replacing it with a non-violent, pluralistic, and multi-cultural present, as Žižek harshly criticized it for its anti-rational status. In line with Badiou and Jameson, Žižek discerns behind the multitude of identities and lifestyles in our world the dominance of the One and the eradication of Difference (the void of antagonism). It would have been ideal, if pluralism were not translated to populism and the non-violent to a sanctimonious respect of Otherness.

Badiou also points to the nihilism that permeates modern ethicology that puts forward the “recognition of the other”, the respect of “differences”, and “multi-culturalism”. Such ethics is supposed to protect the subject from discriminatory behaviours on the basis of sex, race, culture, religion, and so on, as one must display “tolerance” towards others who maintain different thinking and behaviour patterns. For Badiou, this ethical discourse is far from effective and truthful, as is revealed by the competing axes it forges (e.g., opposition between “tolerance” and “fanaticism”, “recognition of the other” and “identitarian fixity”).

Badiou denounces the decomposed religiosity of current ethical discourse, in the face of the pharisaic advocates of the right to difference who are “clearly horrified by any vigorously sustained difference”. The pharisaism of this respect for difference lies in the fact that it suggests the acceptance of the other, in so far as s/he is a “good other”; in other words, in so far as s/he is the same as everyone else. Such an ethical attitude ironically affirms the hegemonic identity of those who opt for integration of the different other, which is to say, the other is requested to suppress his/her difference, so that he partakes in the “Western identity”.

Rather than equating being with the One, the law of being is the multiple “without one”, that is, every multiple being is a multiple of multiples, stretching alterity into infinity; alterity is simply “what there is” and our experience is “the infinite deployment of infinite differences”. Only the void can discontinue this multiplicity of being, through the event that “breaks” with the existing order and calls for a “new way of being”. Thus, a radical utopian gesture needs to emerge from the perspective of the event, initiating a truth process.

Production of the Schizoid, End of Capitalism and Laruelle’s Radical Immanence. Note Quote Didactics.


These are eclectics of the production, eclectics of the repetition, eclectics of the difference, where the fecundity of the novelty would either spring forth, or be weeded out. There is ‘schizoproduction’ prevalent in the world. This axiomatic schizoproduction is not a speech act, but discursive, in the sense that it constrains how meaning is distilled from relations, without the need for signifying, linguistic acts. Schizoproduction performs the relation. The bare minimum of schizoproduction is the gesture of transcending thought: namely, what François Laruelle calls a ‘decision’. Decision is differential, but it does not have to signify. It is the capacity to produce distinction and separation, in the most minimal, axiomatic form. Schizoproduction is capitalism turned into immanent capitalism, through a gesture of thought – sufficient thought. It is where capitalism has become a philosophy of life, in that it has a firm belief within a sufficient thought, whatever it comes in contact with. It is an expression of the real, the radical immanence as a transcending arrangement. It is a collective articulation bound up with intricate relations and management of carnal, affective, and discursive matter. The present form of capitalism is based on relationships, collaborations, and processuality, and in this is altogether different from the industrial period of modernism in the sense of subjectivity, production, governance, biopolitics and so on. In both cases, the life of a subject is valuable, since it is a substratum of potentiality and capacity, creativity and innovation; and in both cases, a subject is produced with physical, mental, cognitive and affective capacities compatible with each arrangement. Artistic practice is aligned with a shift from modern liberalism to the neoliberal dynamic position of the free agent.

Such attributes have thus become so obvious that the concepts of ‘competence’, ‘trust’ or ‘interest’ are taken as given facts, instead of perceiving them as functions within an arrangement. It is not that neoliberal management has leveraged the world from its joints, but that it is rather capitalism as philosophy, which has produced this world, where neoliberalism is just a part of the philosophy. Therefore, the thought of the end of capitalism will always be speculative, since we may regard the world without capitalism in the same way as we may regard the world-not-for-humans, which may be a speculative one, also. From its inception, capitalism paved a one-way path to annihilation, predicated as it was on unmitigated growth, the extraction of finite resources, the exaltation of individualism over communal ties, and the maximization of profit at the expense of the environment and society. The capitalist world was, as Thurston Clarke described so bleakly, ”dominated by the concerns of trade and Realpolitik rather than by human rights and spreading democracy”; it was a ”civilization influenced by the impersonal, bottom-line values of the corporations.” Capitalist industrial civilization was built on burning the organic remains of ancient organisms, but at the cost of destroying the stable climatic conditions which supported its very construction. The thirst for fossil fuels by our globalized, high-energy economy spurred increased technological development to extract the more difficult-to-reach reserves, but this frantic grasp for what was left only served to hasten the malignant transformation of Earth into an alien world. The ruling class tried to hold things together for as long as they could by printing money, propping up markets, militarizing domestic law enforcement, and orchestrating thinly veiled resource wars in the name of fighting terrorism, but the crisis of capitalism was intertwined with the ecological crisis and could never be solved by those whose jobs and social standing depended on protecting the status quo. All the corporate PR, greenwashing, political promises, cultural myths, and anthropocentrism could not hide the harsh Malthusian reality of ecological overshoot. As crime sky-rocketed and social unrest boiled over into rioting and looting, the elite retreated behind walled fortresses secured by armed guards, but the great unwinding of industrial civilization was already well underway. This evil genie was never going back in the bottle. And thats speculative too, or not really is a nuance to be fought hard on.

The immanence of capitalism is a transcending immanence: a system, which produces a world as an arrangement, through a capitalist form of thought—the philosophy of capitalism—which is a philosophy of sufficient reason in which economy is the determination in the last instance, and not the real. We need to specifically regard that this world is not real. The world is a process, a “geopolitical fiction”. Aside from this reason, there is an unthinkable world that is not for humans. It is not the world in itself, noumena, nor is it nature, bios, but rather it is the world indifferent to and foreclosed from human thought, a foreclosed and radical immanence – the real – which is not open nor will ever be opening itself for human thought. It will forever remain void and unilaterally indifferent. The radical immanence of the real is not an exception – analogous to the miracle in theology – but rather, it is an advent of the unprecedented unknown, where the lonely hour of last instance never comes. This radical immanence does not confer with ‘the new’ or with ‘the same’ and does not transcend through thought. It is matter in absolute movement, into which philosophy or oikonomia incorporates conditions, concepts, and operations. Now, a shift in thought is possible where the determination in the last instance would no longer be economy but rather a radical immanence of the real, as philosopher François Laruelle has argued. What is given, what is radically immanent in and as philosophy, is the mode of transcendental knowledge in which it operates. To know this mode of knowledge, to know it without entering into its circle, is to practice a science of the transcendental, the “transcendental science” of non-philosophy. This science is of the transcendental, but according to Laruelle, it must also itself be transcendental – it must be a global theory of the given-ness of the real. A non- philosophical transcendental is required if philosophy as a whole, including its transcendental structure, is to be received and known as it is. François Laruelle radicalises the Marxist term of determined-in-the-last-instance reworked by Louis Althusser, for whom the last instance as a dominating force was the economy. For Laruelle, the determination-in-the-last-instance is the Real and that “everything philosophy claims to master is in-the-last-instance thinkable from the One-Real”. For Althusser, referring to Engels, the economy is the ‘determination in the last instance’ in the long run, but only concerning the other determinations by the superstructures such as traditions. Following this, the “lonely hour of the ‘last instance’ never comes”.

Gnostic Semiotics. Thought of the Day 63.0


The question here is what is being composed? For the deferment and difference that is always already of the Sign, suggests that perhaps the composition is one that lies not within but without, a creation that lies on the outside but which then determines – perhaps through the reader more than anything else, for after all the meaning of a particular sign, be it a word or anything else, requires a form of impregnation by the receiver – a particular meaning.

Is there any choice but to assume a meaning in a sign? Only through the simulation, or ‘belief’ if you prefer (there is really no difference in the two concepts), of an inherent meaning in the sign can any transference continue. For even if we acknowledge that all communication is merely the circulation of empty signifiers, the impregnation of the signified (no matter how unconnected it may be to the other person’s signified) still ensures that the sign carries with it a meaning. Only through this simulation of a meaning is circulation possible – even if one posits that the sign circulates itself, this would not be possible if it were completely empty.

Since it is from without (even if meaning is from the reader, (s)he is external to the signification), this suggests that the meaning is a result, a consequence of forces – its signification is a result of the significance of various forces (convention, context, etc) which then means that inherently, the sign remains empty; a pure signifier leading to yet another signifier.

The interesting element though lies in the fact that the empty signifier then sucks the Other (in the form of the signified, which takes the form of the Absolute Other here) into it, in order to define an existence, but essentially remains an empty signifier, awaiting impregnation with meaning from the reader. A void: always full and empty or perhaps (n)either full (n)or empty. For true potentiality must always already contain the possibility of non-potentiality. Otherwise there would be absolutely no difference between potentiality and actualization – they would merely be different ends of the same spectrum.

Orgies of the Atheistic Materialism: Barthes Contra Sade. Drunken Risibility.

The language and style of Justine are inextricably tied to sexual pleasure. Sade makes it impossible for the reader to ignore this aspect of the text. Roland Barthes, whose essays in Sade, Fourier, Loyola describe the innovative language of each author, underscores the importance of pleasure when discussing the Sadian voyage:

If the Sadian novel is excluded from our literature, it is because in it novelistic peregrination is never a quest for the Unique (temporal essence, truth, happiness), but a repetition of pleasure; Sadian errancy is unseemly, not because it is vicious and criminal, but because it is dull and somehow insignificant, withdrawn from transcendency, void of term: it does not re­veal, does not transform, does not develop, does not edu­cate, does not sublimate, does not accomplish, recuperates nothing, save for the present itself, cut up, glittering, repeated; no patience, no experience; everything is carried immediately to the acme of knowledge, of power, of ejacula­tion; time does not arrange or derange it, it repeats, recalls, recommences, there is no scansion other than that which al­ternates the formation and the expenditure of sperm.

Barthes’s observation reflects La Mettrie’s influence on Sade, whose libertine characters parrot in both speech and action the philosopher’s view that the pursuit of pleasure is man’s raison d’être. Sexuality permeates a great many linguistic and stylistic features of Justine, for example, names of characters (onomastics), literal and figurative language, grammatical structures, cultural and class references, dramatic effects, repetition and exaggeration, and use of parody and caricature. Justine is traditionally the name of a female domestic (soubrette), connoting a person of the lower classes, who falls prey to promiscuous behavior. Near the beginning of Justine, Sade renames the heroine the moment she accepts employment at the home of the miserly Monsieur Du Harpin, surname evocative of Molière’s Harpagon. Sophie, the wise example of womanly Christian virtue in the first version, becomes Thérèse, the anti- philosophe in the second, who chooses to ignore the brutally realistic counsel of her libertine persecutors. Sade’s Thérèse recalls the heroine of Thérèse philosophe who, unlike his protagonist, profited from an erotic lifestyle.

Sade may manipulate language to enhance erotic description but he also relies upon his observation of everyday life and class division of the ancien régime to provide him with models for his libertine characters, their mores, and their lifestyles. In Justine, he presents a socio-cultural microcosm of France during the reign of Louis XV. The power brokers of Sade’s youth who, for the most part, enriched themselves in his Majesty’s wars by means of corruption and influence, resurface in print as Justine’s exploiters. The noblemen, the financiers, the legal and medical professionals, the clergymen, and the thieves-robber barons representative of each social class-sexually maneuver their subjects to establish control. While we learn what the classes of mid-eighteenth-century France ate, how they dressed, where they lived, we also witness the ongoing struggle between victim and victimizer, the former personified by Justine, an ordinary bourgeois individual who can never vanquish the tyrant who maintains authority through sexual prowess rather than through wealth.

Barthes tells us that Sade’s passion was not erotic but theatrical. The marquis’s infatuation with the theater was inspired early on by the lavish productions staged by the Jesuits during his three and a half years at the Collège Louis-le-Grand. Later, his romantic dalliances with actresses and his own involvements in acting, writing, and production attest to his enormous attraction to the theater. In his libertine works, Sade incorporates theatricality, especially in his orgiastic scenes; in his own way, he creates the necessary horror and suspense to first seduce the reader and then to maintain his/her attention. Like a spectator in the audience, the reader observes well-rehearsed productions whose decor, script, and players have been predetermined, and where they are shown her various props in the form of “sadistic” paraphernalia.

Sade makes certain that the lesson given by her libertine victimizers following her forced participation in their orgies is not forgotten. Once again, Sade relies on man’s innate need for sexual pleasure to intellectualize the universe in a manner similar to his own. By using sexual desire as a ploy, Sade inculcates the atheistic materialism he so strongly proclaims into both an attentive Justine and reader. Justine cooperates with her depraved persecutors but refuses to adopt their way of thinking and thus continues to suffer at the hands of society’s exploiters. Sade, however, seizes the opportunity to convince his invisible readership that his concept of the universe is the right one. No matter how monotonous it may seem, repetition, whether in the form of licentious behavior or pseudo-philosophical diatribe, serves as a time-tested, powerful didactic tool.

Reza Negarestani’s Ontology as Science of Cruelty and Deleuzean Excavation of the Architectonic. Thought of the Day 40.0


The problem of the principle of reason/ground is architectonic. As such it is the great theme of modern philosophy: how and where to begin? The two classical answers are provided by romanticism and enlightenment thinking. If there is a romantic side to Heidegger, as Deleuze says, then Meillassoux inherits and continues a long-standing tradition of enlightenment. Whereas the first always looks for a foundation or ground, even if it turns out be an abyss, the critical reason of the latter rabidly dismantles all grounds. Alternatively, Deleuze calls for a third answer which he calls modernism or constructivism and which always begins by the milieu (par le milieu). Instead of rising out of first principles like a tree from its roots, his metaphysics proliferates like a rhizome, never straying far from the events at the surface in a groping experimentation with the conditions of real experience. For Deleuze, the milieu is not the solid ground on which we stand, but neither is it an abyss or a void. Rather it is the fluctuating ground in which we must learn to swim. It is the element of the problematic as such, an element that matters and calls for an ethics of life. To think by the milieu means to think both without reference to a fixed ground yet also without separating thought from the forces it requires to exist. Whereas Meillassoux reinstalls the Kantian tribunal of reason and the generality of its judgments, Deleuze always emphasizes his own conditions of enunciation, i.e. the matters of concern that enable him to learn. While the anti-correlationist position is one of right, Deleuze’s own position is always one of fact.

The Sibyl’s Prophecy/Nordic Creation. Note Quote.



The Prophecy of the Tenth Sibyl, a medieval best-seller, surviving in over 100 manuscripts from the 11th to the 16th century, predicts, among other things, the reign of evil despots, the return of the Antichrist and the sun turning to blood.

The Tenth or Tiburtine Sibyl was a pagan prophetess perhaps of Etruscan origin. To quote Lactantus in his general account of the ten sibyls in the introduction, ‘The Tiburtine Sibyl, by name Albunea, is worshiped at Tibur as a goddess, near the banks of the Anio in which stream her image is said to have been found, holding a book in her hand’.

The work interprets the Sibyl’s dream in which she foresees the downfall and apocalyptic end of the world; 9 suns appear in the sky, each one more ugly and bloodstained than the last, representing the 9 generations of mankind and ending with Judgment Day. The original Greek version dates from the end of the 4th century and the earliest surviving manuscript in Latin is dated 1047. The Tiburtine Sibyl is often depicted with Emperor Augustus, who asks her if he should be worshipped as a god.

The foremost lay of the Elder Edda is called Voluspa (The Sibyl’s Prophecy). The volva, or sibyl, represents the indelible imprint of the past, wherein lie the seeds of the future. Odin, the Allfather, consults this record to learn of the beginning, life, and end of the world. In her response, she addresses Odin as a plurality of “holy beings,” indicating the omnipresence of the divine principle in all forms of life. This also hints at the growth of awareness gained by all living, learning entities during their evolutionary pilgrimage through spheres of existence.

Hear me, all ye holy beings, greater as lesser sons of Heimdal! You wish me to tell of Allfather’s works, tales of the origin, the oldest I know. Giants I remember, born in the foretime, they who long ago nurtured me. Nine worlds I remember, nine trees of life, before this world tree grew from the ground.

Paraphrased, this could be rendered as:

Learn, all ye living entities, imbued with the divine essence of Odin, ye more and less evolved sons of the solar divinity (Heimdal) who stands as guardian between the manifest worlds of the solar system and the realm of divine consciousness. You wish to learn of what has gone before. I am the record of long ages past (giants), that imprinted their experience on me. I remember nine periods of manifestation that preceded the present system of worlds.

Time being inextricably a phenomenon of manifestation, the giant ages refer to the matter-side of creation. Giants represent ages of such vast duration that, although their extent in space and time is limited, it is of a scope that can only be illustrated as gigantic. Smaller cycles within the greater are referred to in the Norse myths as daughters of their father-giant. Heimdal is the solar deity in the sign of Aries – of beginnings for our system – whose “sons” inhabit, in fact compose, his domain.

Before a new manifestation of a world, whether a cosmos or a lesser system, all its matter is frozen in a state of immobility, referred to in the Edda as a frost giant. The gods – consciousnesses – are withdrawn into their supernal, unimaginable abstraction of Nonbeing, called in Sanskrit “paranirvana.” Without a divine activating principle, space itself – the great container – is a purely theoretical abstraction where, for lack of any organizing energic impulse of consciousness, matter cannot exist.

This was the origin of ages when Ymer built. No soil was there, no sea, no cool waves. Earth was not, nor heaven above; Gaping Void alone, no growth. Until the sons of Bur raised the tables; they who created beautiful Midgard. The sun shone southerly on the stones of the court; then grew green herbs in fertile soil.

To paraphrase again:

Before time began, the frost giant (Ymer) prevailed. No elements existed for there were ‘no waves,’ no motion, hence no organized form nor any temporal events, until the creative divine forces emanated from Space (Bur — a principle, not a locality) and organized latent protosubstance into the celestial bodies (tables at which the gods feast on the mead of life-experience). Among these tables is Middle Court (Midgard), our own beautiful planet. The life-giving sun sheds its radiant energies to activate into life all the kingdoms of nature which compose it.

The Gaping Void (Ginnungagap) holds “no cool waves” throughout illimitable depths during the age of the frost giant. Substance has yet to be created. Utter wavelessness negates it, for all matter is the effect of organized, undulating motion. As the cosmic hour strikes for a new manifestation, the ice of Home of Nebulosity (Niflhem) is melted by the heat from Home of Fire (Muspellshem), resulting in vapor in the void. This is Ymer, protosubstance as yet unformed, the nebulae from which will evolve the matter components of a new universe, as the vital heat of the gods melts and vivifies the formless immobile “ice.”

When the great age of Ymer has run its course, the cow Audhumla, symbol of fertility, “licking the salt from the ice blocks,” uncovers the head of Buri, first divine principle. From this infinite, primal source emanates Bur, whose “sons” are the creative trinity: Divine Allfather, Will, and Sanctity (Odin, Vile, and Vi). This triune power “kills” the frost giant by transforming it into First Sound (Orgalmer), or keynote, whose overtones vibrate through the planes of sleeping space and organize latent protosubstance into the multifarious forms which will be used by all “holy beings” as vehicles for gaining experience in worlds of matter.

Beautiful Midgard, our physical globe earth, is but one of the “tables” raised by the creative trinity, whereat the gods shall feast. The name Middle Court is suggestive, for the ancient traditions place our globe in a central position in the series of spheres that comprise the terrestrial being’s totality. All living entities, man included, comprise besides the visible body a number of principles and characteristics not cognized by the gross physical senses. In the Lay of Grimner (Grimnismal), wherein Odin in the guise of a tormented prisoner on earth instructs a human disciple, he enumerates twelve spheres or worlds, all but one of which are unseen by our organs of sight. As to the formation of Midgard, he relates:

Of Ymer’s flesh was the earth formed, the billows of his blood, the mountains of his bones, bushes of his hair, and of his brainpan heaven. With his eyebrows beneficent powers enclosed Midgard for man; but of his brain were surely all dark skies created.

The trinity of immanent powers organize Ymer into the forms wherein they dwell, shaping the chaos or frost giant into living globes on many planes of being. The “eyebrows” that gird the earth and protect it suggest the Van Allen belts that shield the planet from inimical radiation. The brain of Ymer – material thinking – is surely all too evident in the thought atmosphere wherein man participates.

The formation of the physical globe is described as the creation of “dwarfs” – elemental forces which shape the body of the earth-being and which include the mineral. vegetable, and animal kingdoms.

The mighty drew to their judgment seats, all holy gods to hold counsel: who should create a host of dwarfs from the blood of Brimer and the limbs of the dead. Modsogne there was, mightiest of all the dwarfs, Durin the next; there were created many humanoid dwarfs from the earth, as Durin said.

Brimer is the slain Ymer, a kenning for the waters of space. Modsogne is the Force-sucker, Durin the Sleeper, and later comes Dvalin the Entranced. They are “dwarf”-consciousnesses, beings that are miðr than human – the Icelandic miðr meaning both “smaller” and “less.” By selecting the former meaning, popular concepts have come to regard them as undersized mannikins, rather than as less evolved natural species that have not yet reached the human condition of intelligence and self-consciousness.

During the life period or manifestation of a universe, the governing giant or age is named Sound of Thor (Trudgalmer), the vital force which sustains activity throughout the cycle of existence. At the end of this age the worlds become Sound of Fruition (Bargalmer). This giant is “placed on a boat-keel and saved,” or “ground on the mill.” Either version suggests the karmic end product as the seed of future manifestation, which remains dormant throughout the ensuing frost giant of universal dissolution, when cosmic matter is ground into a formless condition of wavelessness, dissolved in the waters of space.

There is an inescapable duality of gods-giants in all phases of manifestation: gods seek experience in worlds of substance and feast on the mead at stellar and planetary tables; giants, formed into vehicles inspired with the divine impetus, rise through cycles of this association on the ladder of conscious awareness. All states being relative and bipolar, there is in endless evolution an inescapable link between the subjective and objective progress of beings. Odin as the “Opener” is paired with Orgalmer, the keynote on which a cosmos is constructed; Odin as the “Closer” is equally linked with Bargalmer, the fruitage of a life cycle. During the manifesting universe, Odin-Allfather corresponds to Trudgalmer, the sustainer of life.

A creative trinity plays an analogical part in the appearance of humanity. Odin remains the all-permeant divine essence, while on this level his brother-creators are named Honer and Lodur, divine counterparts of water or liquidity, and fire or vital heat and motion. They “find by the shore, of little power” the Ash and the Elm and infuse into these earth-beings their respective characteristics, making a human image or reflection of themselves. These protohumans, miniatures of the world tree, the cosmic Ash, Yggdrasil, in addition to their earth-born qualities of growth force and substance, receive the divine attributes of the gods. By Odin man is endowed with spirit, from Honer comes his mind, while Lodur gives him will and godlike form. The essentially human qualities are thus potentially divine. Man is capable of blending with the earth, whose substances form his body, yet is able to encompass in his consciousness the vision native to his divine source. He is in fact a minor world tree, part of the universal tree of life, Yggdrasil.

Ygg in conjunction with other words has been variously translated as Eternal, Awesome or Terrible, and Old. Sometimes Odin is named Yggjung, meaning the Ever-Young, or Old-Young. Like the biblical “Ancient of Days” it is a concept that mind can grasp only in the wake of intuition. Yggdrasil is the “steed” or the “gallows” of Ygg, whereon Odin is mounted or crucified during any period of manifested life. The world tree is rooted in Nonbeing and ramifies through the planes of space, its branches adorned with globes wherein the gods imbody. The sibyl spoke of ours as the tenth in a series of such world trees, and Odin confirms this in The Song of the High One (Den Hoges Sang):

I know that I hung in the windtorn tree nine whole nights, spear-pierced, given to Odin, my self to my Self above me in the tree, whose root none knows whence it sprang. None brought me bread, none served me drink; I searched the depths, spied runes of wisdom, raised them with song, and fell once more from the tree. Nine powerful songs I learned from the wise son of Boltorn, Bestla’s father; a draught I drank of precious mead ladled from Odrorer. I began to grow, to grow wise, to grow greater and enjoy; for me words from words led to new words, for me deeds from deeds led to new deeds.

Numerous ancient tales relate the divine sacrifice and crucifixion of the Silent Watcher whose realm or protectorate is a world in manifestation. Each tree of life, of whatever scope, constitutes the cross whereon the compassionate deity inherent in that hierarchy remains transfixed for the duration of the cycle of life in matter. The pattern of repeated imbodiments for the purpose of gaining the precious mead is clear, as also the karmic law of cause and effect as words and deeds bring their results in new words and deeds.

Yggdrasil is said to have three roots. One extends into the land of the frost giants, whence flow twelve rivers of lives or twelve classes of beings; another springs from and is watered by the well of Origin (Urd), where the three Norns, or fates, spin the threads of destiny for all lives. “One is named Origin, the second Becoming. These two fashion the third, named Debt.” They represent the inescapable law of cause and effect. Though they have usually been roughly translated as Past, Present, and Future, the dynamic concept in the Edda is more complete and philosophically exact. The third root of the world tree reaches to the well of the “wise giant Mimer,” owner of the well of wisdom. Mimer represents material existence and supplies the wisdom gained from experience of life. Odin forfeited one eye for the privilege of partaking of these waters of life, hence he is represented in manifestation as one-eyed and named Half-Blind. Mimer, the matter-counterpart, at the same time receives partial access to divine vision.

The lays make it very clear that the purpose of existence is for the consciousness-aspect of all beings to gain wisdom through life, while inspiring the substantial side of itself to growth in inward awareness and spirituality. At the human level, self-consciousness and will are aroused, making it possible for man to progress willingly and purposefully toward his divine potential, aided by the gods who have passed that way before him, rather than to drift by slow degrees and many detours along the road of inevitable evolution. Odin’s instructions to a disciple, Loddfafner, the dwarf-nature in man, conclude with:

Now is sung the High One’s song in the High One’s hall. Useful to sons of men, useless to sons of giants. Hail Him who sang! Hail him who kens! Rejoice they who understand! Happy they who heed!

The Womb of Cosmogony. Thought of the Day 30.0

Nowhere and by no people was speculation allowed to range beyond those manifested gods. The boundless and infinite UNITY remained with every nation a virgin forbidden soil, untrodden by man’s thought, untouched by fruitless speculation. The only reference made to it was the brief conception of its diastolic and systolic property, of its periodical expansion or dilatation, and contraction. In the Universe with all its incalculable myriads of systems and worlds disappearing and re-appearing in eternity, the anthropomorphised powers, or gods, their Souls, had to disappear from view with their bodies: — “The breath returning to the eternal bosom which exhales and inhales them,” says our Catechism. . . . In every Cosmogony, behind and higher than the creative deity, there is a superior deity, a planner, an Architect, of whom the Creator is but the executive agent. And still higher, over and around, withinand without, there is the UNKNOWABLE and the unknown, the Source and Cause of all these Emanations. – The Secret Doctrine


Many are the names in the ancient literatures which have been given to the Womb of Being from which all issues, in which all forever is, and into the spiritual and divine reaches of which all ultimately returns, whether infinitesimal entity or macrocosmic spacial unit.

The Tibetans called this ineffable mystery Tong-pa-nnid, the unfathomable Abyss of the spiritual realms. The Buddhists of the Mahayana school describe it as Sunyata or the Emptiness, simply because no human imagination can figurate to itself the incomprehensible Fullness which it is. In the Eddas of ancient Scandinavia the Boundless was called by the suggestive term Ginnungagap – a word meaning yawning or uncircumscribed void. The Hebrew Bible states that the earth was formless and void, and darkness was upon the face of Tehom, the Deep, the Abyss of Waters, and therefore the great Deep of kosmic Space. It has the identical significance of the Womb of Space as envisioned by other peoples. In the Chaldaeo-Jewish Qabbalah the same idea is conveyed by the term ‘Eyn (or Ain) Soph, without bounds. In the Babylonian accounts of Genesis, it is Mummu Tiamatu which stands for the Great Sea or Deep. The archaic Chaldaean cosmology speaks of the Abyss under the name of Ab Soo, the Father or source of knowledge, and in primitive Magianism it was Zervan Akarana — in its original meaning of Boundless Spirit instead of the later connotation of Boundless Time.

In the Chinese cosmogony, Tsi-tsai, the Self-Existent, is the Unknown Darkness, the root of the Wuliang-sheu, Boundless Age. The wu wei of Lao-tse, often mistranslated as passivity and nonaction, imbodies a similar conception. In the sacred scriptures of the Quiches of Guatemala, the Popol Vuh or “Book of the Azure Veil,” reference is made to the “void which was the immensity of the Heavens,” and to the “Great Sea of Space.” The ancient Egyptians spoke of the Endless Deep; the same idea also is imbodied in the Celi-Ced of archaic Druidism, Ced being spoken of as the “Black Virgin” — Chaos — a state of matter prior to manvantaric differentiation.

The Orphic Mysteries taught of the Thrice-Unknown Darkness or Chronos, about which nothing could be predicated except its timeless Duration. With the Gnostic schools, as for instance with Valentinus, it was Bythos, the Deep. In Greece, the school of Democritus and Epicurus postulated To Kenon, the Void; the same idea was later voiced by Leucippus and Diagoras. But the two most common terms in Greek philosophy for the Boundless were Apeiron, as used by Plato, Anaximander and Anaximenes, and Apeiria, as used by Anaxagoras and Aristotle. Both words had the significance of frontierless expansion, that which has no circumscribing bounds.

The earliest conception of Chaos was that almost unthinkable condition of kosmic space or kosmic expanse, which to human minds is infinite and vacant extension of primordial Aether, a stage before the formation of manifested worlds, and out of which everything that later existed was born, including gods and men and all the celestial hosts. We see here a faithful echo of the archaic esoteric philosophy, because among the Greeks Chaos was the kosmic mother of Erebos and Nyx, Darkness and Night — two aspects of the same primordial kosmic stage. Erebos was the spiritual or active side corresponding to Brahman in Hindu philosophy, and Nyx the passive side corresponding to pradhana or mulaprakriti, both meaning root-nature. Then from Erebos and Nyx as dual were born Aether and Hemera, Spirit and Day — Spirit being here again in this succeeding stage the active side, and Day the passive aspect, the substantial or vehicular side. The idea was that just as in the Day of Brahma of Hindu cosmogony things spring into active manifested existence, so in the kosmic Day of the Greeks things spring from elemental substance into manifested light and activity, because of the indwelling urge of the kosmic Spirit.

The Dark Prose of the Voidic

It is questioning in itself, an inmost, deepest amazement, which often moves towards nothing, and yet quiets the flux of what was just lived: lets one reflect into oneself such that what is most deeply meant for us appears there, regards itself strangely. More deeply, it are the values of amazement that are carried by the state of presentiment, and ultimately reflected: something small, the kernel within so much impressive empty emballage, a messiah who appears not in a flash but in warmth and is nearby, as our guest, the discarded within a metaphysical perspective, the wafting comprehensible/incomprehensible symbolic intentions of the whole. The simplest word is already much too for it, the most sublime word much too little again, and yet what is true of these small, penetrating, and yet, followed through to the end, always the most authentic of all emblems, was true until now only of the greatest things: of the Delphic, of the reverberations of the primordial experiences of great dark poetry. What is felt, meant here is the same every time; our life, our future, the just lived moment and the lighting of the darkness, its all containing latency, in the most immediate amazement of all. Our moral-mystical concern and our self-ascertainment in itself is meant; some surplus based on nothing extrinsic, the surplus of the mutual mystical existence meaning in itself, is proper to every such experience and especially to symbol intentioned profundity. That gives them their immense promiscuity with respect to time, space and the terminus: that marvels through these constructs in a philosophic lyricism of the final border standing above every discipline, spiritually, arch jamming immanence and thus meta-religiously superior, exterior, even to the formations of faith, to the other world. Can we escape this depression of the visualization of the other world; a world object-less, not even ether, but not objection-less. Is there an answer to the nothingness in which all of us are in an awe struck moment if we try comprehending it?