Faustus At Elsinore

Years ago, early in our marriage, before the whole soul retrieval ritual with Bethany, Angus, Lynnee and the sorcerer (who I will not mention by name, though I believe he is still to be considered healed, and an ally) I put out, to the Universal Spirit, a heartfelt intention to genuinely understand what motivated people to look to ‘The Dark Arts’ for power or gratification.  For, try as I might, I was simply unable to grasp it in any meaningful way and felt that lack of understanding to be a considerable gap in my knowledge.  My ignorance, a real inability to comprehend the whole ‘dark magic’ appeal, felt to be a liability that was important to correct.

To understate the obvious, the expression, “Be careful what you ask for,” springs to mind.

Shortly after placing that intention, as I ran some errands on a beautiful, sunny Saturday morning in April, I stood on the corner of 5th Ave. and University place and quietly rejoiced in an exhilarating sense of grace.  I felt whole and strong and radiant beneath a cloudless, brilliant blue sky, drinking in the deliciously clean spring air that carried gentle notes of earthy perfume from the daffodils blooming in the church garden across the street.  I basked in the unusual privacy I seemed to enjoy in that heightened moment in time, for – though normally a busy intersection on Saturday morning, filled with students and Greenwich Village thoroughfare – absolutely no one was perceivable around me within a radius of a block or more.

I turned to my right and saw a single paperback book lying by itself in the wire metal trash can on the corner. Not one other thing was in there, not even a gum wrapper – just this one book.   I couldn’t see the title, as it was lying face down, and too curious to leave it alone I reached down to turn it over and take a look, whereupon I dropped it and stepped back in shock.  It was a clean and relatively new copy of ‘The Satanic Bible,’ by Anton LeVey.   After a momentary adjustment I laughed to myself, thinking, “What a perfect place for that.

I was familiar with it to a degree, had seen it before, and considered it – apart from being obviously disturbed – juvenile and stupid.  Still, I wrestled with the impulse to retrieve it, remembering my explicit request for knowledge of the psycho-emotional and metaphysical reasons for people’s attraction to ‘the dark side.’  I hesitated with some trepidation, then thought (I THINK it was my own thought!) that it was a dis-empowered attitude to let fear decide what I would do, and I chose to take the action. With a warrior’s resolve I stepped over, reached in again and picked that book up out of the trash can.   And, though I was not entirely conscious of it in that instant, I heard – on what now seems to have been an astral level – an assured laughter when I did so.

I took the book home and left it on the coffee table.

Now, at the time I had a considerable library in the apartment of metaphysical books of different kinds, none of which you had ever expressed much interest in, despite my efforts to share some of them with you and – though incomprehensible to me – in spite of your profound psychic gifts and obvious (to me) reincarnational background as an adept. For, although our years in the heart of the magical world were in their earliest stages, your ability as a trance channel and the dimension of experience which opened in accord with that had begun to manifest; the arc of destiny which we were to share was being drawn.  Nevertheless, you expressed little desire to pursue such subjects in your normal, waking state.

However, as if permeated with some nefarious, etheric pheromone, that one book which I retrieved from the garbage on that fateful day appeared to exert an irresistible, magnetic appeal for you. You went right for it with an odd, animated zeal and – although a sad, lame and generally unimpressive composition – your attraction to that book was such that you clung to it with an attachment that was alarming in the extreme. After a few days I literally wrested it from your hands and threw it away.

Do you remember any of this?


Posted on April 27, 2012, in Excerpts and Expurgations, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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