The study was layered in smoke. There was a group of young men gathered around an old bearded mystic sitting in a large red velvet chair in the corner of the room. The year is 1924. The smoke was coming from some incense burning on a desk and also from the pipes of the young men which were periodically firing. The sweet tobacco smell mingled with the oriental scent. Strange combination. East and West. And there were old maps and pictures from around the world that suggested extensive personal wanderings and investigations.
It was dusk. They were inside a wooden house on a secluded corner in Nashville, Tennessee. The men were students at the local University. They were gathered around the mystic as if he were a magnet or as if they were children eagerly listening to a story from one of the elders. A miniature grandfather clock tick tocked heavily on the mantel above a smoldering fire in the hearth. He spoke to them.
“The “G” rune is very important for us.” He held up a card with an enormous “X” shape drawn on it.
“Recognize this one, I’m sure. This symbol is the precursor to the letter G for all indoeuropean languages. This is a key rune for passing through the realms. The name of the rune is GEBO and it symbolizes the interaction or intersection of the two opposite beams Divine and Human, Spiritual and Physical, Intellect and Instinct, High and Low, and the exchange of force between the various planes of existence. Thus, the “X”. The English cognate is GIFT and the relation is that the exchange of force is like the act of giving. You see there is much that is hidden in the language of which you are not aware. Words are powerful.”
He held up another card.
“The tarot correspondence is number six, The Lovers, the first archetypal example of exchange and polarity between opposites. This rune presides over the Alchemical Marriage and all Love mysteries.
But most importantly, this is the rune of Sacrifice. Sacrifice, though, does not mean to give something up. Sacrifice involves the transfer of power from one plane to another. The intellect sacrifices its body so that it can operate at a higher mental level. The boxer is physically stronger than the writer but the writer is the more powerful creature because mind directs body.”
At this he pointed to the Confederate Battle Flag hanging over the mantle.
“Another example. A man dies for his country not because he is selfless but because he recognizes greater value in the corporate community of his fellows and is willing to forego his personal gratification.”
Another picture.
“The Phoenix. The Eagle emerging from its own ashes. Sacrifice. A large sacrifice was made on your behalf. Not just one Christ, but hundreds of thousands of ancestors.You owe, gentlemen. You owe big. Something you must all keep in mind on a daily basis if ever you want to recapture the Lost Estate of the Fathers and not let their dream dissipate in vain while the Truth is manipulated by clever connivers with hidden agendas. You must remember this because to lose the proper interpretation of History is to resign your culture to an infamy it does not deserve. And it will only become harder to maintain the Truth. So a daily sacrifice for you young fugitives. Remember that you are building for future generations.
I have traveled the world and I will tell you gentlemen that there is nothing out there that surpasses the sacrifice of life to a noble cause. Remember that when the clever bastards try to corner you in liberal sophisms and Hegelian categories and polluted city logic. Remember what is concrete. What is real. The land. Your past. And the heroism of your Fathers. That is all that matters. The most exquisite palace in Shangri-La does not even compare.”
He held up the “X” again and then laughed as he looked over the crew, staring in awe at him. No one had ever shown them such a complex correspondence between symbols. They had not realized the depth of their own historical tradition, the power that apparently resided in such universal ideas, or the link between these esoteric glyphs and the mundane language with which they were familiar. If he was right, every sentence contained a potential word combination that could alter environments by facilitating emotional upheaval in a listener. How curious! If that were true, then the man of letters was the most powerful man of all, the fisher of men. And that was inspiration. For they were all writers.
They had brought their poems. And now each took a turn reading. The power of Words had taken on new meaning for them. After each poem had been read, there was a short discussion in which suggestions and criticisms would be made by everyone present. The conversations often dealt with the problems that these Southerners of the 1920s were beginning to see with the spread of industrialization and the marginalization of the small independent farmer. They saw another Northern invasion approaching in the guise of capitalists looking to exploit a land still trying to recover from its first rape.
The atheistic rule of the scientific mind and the subsequent specialization of labor and philosophy threatened to fragment the heritage of Western Civilization. T.S. Eliot was a favorite poet whose poems were often recited during these weekly meetings. They took his ‘Wasteland’ quite seriously. There was a drought in the Land of Milk and Honey and the King was sick.
Often, the old mystic would contribute from his vast store of Wisdom. He responded next to a poem that one of the young men had written about Percival, the Grail Knight, and how the Water was made to return to the Land. It was supposed to be an inaugural for the Water-Bearer of the Aquarian Age.
“Excellent poem. The Percival figure is also an interesting one. Another variant on the name is Parsifal. This is the version Richard Wagner used in his opera. Break Parsifal down. We are left with Pure Fool.”
He held up the Tarot Card numbered 0. On it was a young man poised to leap over the edge of a sheer cliff with a flower in his hand. There were no worries or cares in his glance and no apparent recognition of his precarious position.
“Odd? That the Pure Fool attains the Holy Grail and succeeds in ending the drought. Odd indeed. What is the point? Perhaps, that there is no point. The fool usually represents Creative inspiration, the driving force of all life, which always exists outside of the rational faculty, defies explanation, and does not require a logical defense. It is phenomenal. Just like God. Just like Love. Who would ever think of giving three reasons for being in Love? Love is foolish. It doesn’t succeed in this world. Or I guess I should rather say that it does not pay. For Love will triumph in the end."
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