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

Thursday, June 27, 2013


A feast every day in your hearts in the joy of my rapture!
A feast every night unto Nu, and the pleasure of uttermost delight!
--The Book of the Law
   Cawcaught. Coocaged.

And Dub did glow that night. In Fingal of victories. Cann-
matha and Cathlin sang together. And the three shouters of
glory. Yelling halfviewed their harps. Surly Tuhal smiled upon
drear Darthoola: and Roscranna's bolgaboyo begirlified the
daughter of Cormac. The soul of everyelsesbody rolled into its
olesoleself. A doublemonth's licence, lease on mirth, while hooney-
moon and her flame went huneysuckling. Holyryssia, what boom
of bells! What battle of bragues on Sandgate where met the bobby
mobbed his bibby mabbing through the ryce. Even Tombs left
doss and dunnage down in Demidoff's tomb and drew on the
dournailed clogs that Morty Manning left him and legged in by
Ghoststown Gate, like Pompei up to date, with a sprig of White-
boys heather on his late Luke Elcock's heirloom. And some say
they seen old dummydeaf with a leaf of bronze on his cloak
so grey, trooping his colour a pace to the reire. And as owfally
posh with his halfcrown jool as if he was the Granjook Meckl or
Paster de Grace on the Route de l'Epèe. It was joobileejeu that
All Sorts' Jour. Freestouters and publicranks, hafts on glaives.
You could hear them swearing threaties on the Cymylaya
Mountains, man. And giving it out to the Ould Fathach and louth-
mouthing after the Healy Mealy with an enfysis to bring down
the rain of Tarar. Nevertoletta! Evertomind! The grandest
bethehailey seen or heard on earth's conspectrum since Scape
the Goat, that gafr, ate the Suenders bible. Hadn't we heaven's

lamps to hide us? Yet every lane had its lively spark and every
spark had its several spurtles and each spitfire spurtle had some
trick of her trade, a tease for Ned, nook's nestle for Fred and
a peep at me mow for Peer Pol. So that Father Matt Hughes
looked taytotally threbled. But Danno the Dane grimmed. Dune.
'Twere yeg will elsecare doatty lanv meet they dewscent hyemn
to cannons' roar and rifles' peal vill shantey soloweys sang! For
there were no more Tyrrhanees and for Laxembraghs was pass-
thecupper to Our Lader's. And it was dim upon the floods only
and there was day on all the ground.
He goat a berth. And she cot a manege. And wohl's gorse
mundom ganna wedst.
--Finnegans Wake
Never fear, gentle readers. “Thelema and Skepticism” will be returning later this summer. Until then, celebrate a feast in your hearts every day and night.



  1. "And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
      Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
    O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
      (s)He chortled in (her)his joy."


  2. Hi,

    I was following your discussion on heruaha forum about reincarnation. Just to tell you how much I admire your patience and temperance with these stupid people. A truly example for everybody.

    Keep going