psychedelics (major) – Page 8

What is Worshipped by the Luciferian?

Insofar as Luciferianism is a religion, it holds something to be divine, but what that thing is is not obvious

Whereas the Abrahamist worships his genital-mutilating Big Man in the Sky and the Satanist worships his personification of the adversary, Luciferians don’t seem to make a big thing out of worshipping any Lucifer figure. Nonetheless, Luciferians are entirely capable of comprehending and appreciating the concept of the divine. So what do they worship?

The word ‘Lucifer’ is usually thought of as a proper noun, but its original usage was as a title. More specifically, Lucifer means ‘bringer of light’. It was once the title given to the King of Babylon, and like everything religious, it has an exoteric and an esoteric meaning.

The exoteric meaning ties into the sun worship that is closely related to the religious sentiment in primitive man.

When the Sun starts sinking in the sky after the Summer Solstice the natural reaction for a human bereft of knowledge is fear. It seems like the world is dying as it gets colder and darker and all signs of life diminish. It feels like one has been abandoned by God, and if one is superstitious some of that fear might be mixed with guilt and blame.

So when the Sun returns after the Winter Solstice the natural reaction is one of incredible joy, as if God had shifted attitude from hatred to love. With the Spring comes new life, more light, more warmth, and everywhere there is joy and good cheer (this is, incidentally why Christmas, the major Western festival, is celebrated at the same time as the return of the Sun in the Northern Hemisphere).

Any early ruler opportunistic enough could easily convince the people around them that it was the ruler who was responsible for the return of the Sun, and only by treating that ruler with sufficient respect and obedience would the Sun return. This is the reason why the God-King model was so prevalent. Hence, the King of Babylon was given the title ‘Lucifer’ out of respect for that King being credited with the return of the Sun after the Winter Solstice.

The esoteric meaning is related, but different. In the esoteric sense, Lucifer refers to that impulse within humans that drives them to seek out the light of metaphysical knowledge and then carry it back to the rest of humanity to enlighten them as well. To this end, Lucifer has taken taken many forms in popular culture, the next most famous of which might be Prometheus.

Lucifer is not really a personage in this sense either, because anyone is capable of embodying that impulse at the right time in their lives. In this sense, Lucifer is someone that the individual becomes as they harness their own will to bring light into the world. Lucifer can therefore just as well be manifested by the worshipper as sought out in the external world, as the precise locus of this sentiment is not relevant.

In other words, Luciferianism is a continuation of the same shamanic tradition that led to human mastery of fire, which led to being able to cook food, which led to effectively being able to pre-digest food outside of the body, making us far more efficient, which meant that we had surplus energy that was able to be used for brain development, which led to humans being able to differentiate ourselves meaningfully from the other great apes – a kind of apotheosis of the species.

This impulse is responsible, in the eyes of the Luciferian, for most of what’s good in this world. All medical, scientific, philosophical and technological advancements (and all the human misery alleviated by them) can be attributed to it.

What is that impulse that leads a person to understand how to master fire and its application, and how to distill this mastery into principles simple enough that the mastery can be transmitted to others who might bear a similar impulse, so that they might progress ever further than before?

It’s not easy to describe precisely what this impulse is or from where it might come, but this is what the Luciferian holds in highest regard. This suggests that ‘worship’ is possibly the wrong word to use, because it implies a degree of loss of reason, while the Luciferian venerates something akin to that ability to reason (or, at least, the will to be able to reason and enlighten).

When the Abrahamists subverted the Roman Empire and perverted all truth, one of the first things they did was to destroy all the wisdom inherent in the plentiful Roman mystery cults, which had themselves descended from the Greek mystery cults such as the one around Eleusis.

In the Eleusinian Mysteries, participants drank something called a ‘kykeon’, which was a mix of a variety of intoxicating substances, one of which was believed to have been a strained tea made of psilocybin mushrooms. Consuming this kykeon, only ever done in ritual secrecy, had the effect of propelling the whole congregation into hyperspace. That so many of them did so, and that so many returned from hyperspace and returned to everyday society enlightened is arguably the reason why the Golden Age of Greco-Roman thought took place.

When the Abrahamists destroyed this culture in an effort to enslave the population, they made taboo all the things associated with it. This is the reason why mainstream Abrahamist culture hates women (the Eleusinian Mysteries were open to men and women equally), hates cosmopolitanism (they were open to anyone who spoke Greek, regardless of ethnicity) and hates psychoactive substances (they dispensed their wisdom, at least in part, through the ritual alteration of consciousness).

The Luciferian could not care less if wisdom is to be found in the mind of a woman, or a black man, or as a result of a drug-induced epiphany. Wisdom is wisdom, and it’s enough to venerate the light, and the methodologies that lead to the light, for their own sake.

What Armistice Day Could Mean to the Psychonaut

The cessation of conflict that was tearing one apart – whether physically in the form of war or spiritually – is celebrated on Armistice Day

Armistice Day – 11 November – is a celebration that marks the armistice that ended hostilities at the conclusion of World War One. On this day in 1918, soldiers on all sides put down their guns, bringing an end to what had been, until then, by far the most mindless display of human savagery, ruthlessness and murderlust in history. The retrospective sense that it may have been better to not have fought in the first place echoes in the life of the psychonaut.

In the life of an ordinary person one struggles, and fights, and desires, and wins and loses, and always it’s a tremendous battle to satiate the demands of one ego, which yearns to be exalted. And then, if one ever sees the brick wall at the back of the theatre, one laughs because the battling is all so silly when there’s no way for you to ever really lose.

This is a microcosm of the struggle of nations to exalt themselves on the world stage – a struggle which is so bloody that if it ever stops being violent even for a moment we commemorate it almost a century later, in the hope that we never forget the price of peace.

Like the Great War soldier, the psychonaut has to learn how to put down his guns, but in a metaphorical sense. He has to learn how to be open to the world and to reality, to not be afraid of the inevitable, the indescribable, the ineffable or the incomprehensible. His is the path of the shaman, one who sees beyond, and who returns with knowledge that is not accessible from ordinary perspectives.

Putting down one’s guns might mean, spiritually speaking, that one puts down one’s more aggressive egotistic defences and accepts that one will die one day, and therefore that all victories on this earthly plane are fleeting, transitory, and not worth losing one’s dignity over. It’s the kind of realisation that one might just as well get on the battlefield as from a psychedelic.

Believing this means to value peace in one’s life.

Part of this might be to accept the inevitability of the future death of one’s physical body, and thereby to prepare oneself for the profound change to the contents of consciousness that will follow, instead of repressing it, panicking at every mention of it, or denying the magnitude of the chaos that will befall one over the horizon of death.

The vast majority of people, being materialists, can only look at the prospect of the future death of their physical body with whimpering horror, because materialists almost always bear the delusion that the brain generates consciousness and therefore that the death of the brain necessarily means the extinction of that consciousness.

A person who has seen beyond has had cause to put down his guns, because he knows that living a life that expresses an acceptance of the inevitable will cause the environment around him to be more harmonious than it otherwise would have been.

This doesn’t means that the psychonaut must martyr himself on the spot out of guilt. Putting down one’s guns does not imply that one become passive, or submissive, or self-debasing.

It simply means that one stop behaving like a traumatised dog, ever on the ready to lash out in self-defence, and ever vigilant to all possible new threats from any direction. It means to relax, to let go and to forgive. This teaching is in many ways at the core of all religious and spiritual sentiment.

The lesson of Armistice Day is that conflict has a time and place and when those qualities no longer obtain then it’s time for peace. A genuine interest in peace means tuning oneself into a frequency from which conflict does not arise, a place that a Pyrrhonist would all ataraxia, a Luciferian would call apotheosis and a Buddhist would call nirvana.

How to Not Sound Crazy When Talking About Your Psychedelic Experiences

It’s hard to talk about the world beyond to people who aren’t familiar with that range of frequencies

Even though the Internet has led to a sharing of shamanic knowledge completely unprecedented (and impossible) for any other point in the world’s history, it hasn’t filtered down to the mass consciousness yet. Probably it never will – the men of silver and iron and clay cannot be expected to concern themselves with what lies beyond this veil. This essay gives some tips for talking to them about the world beyond without sounding insane.

The most important thing is to have a feel for what the person you are talking to is likely to be able to handle. This means that you have to look for clues from what you already know about them to give hints about what they already believe.

The easiest way to sound crazy is to express a belief that does not accord with consensual reality of the mass consciousness of the people around you. This is true whether you are in meatspace or cyberspace. The lower the intelligence of the person you are speaking to, the less likely it is that they will have challenged any belief widely-held by the people around them.

It is in this will to challenge consensual reality that most people judge sane from insane. All you have to do is to assert that things are not as they are commonly believed to be, and some people will start to consider you crazy. Essentially you only have to contradict the television, or in other cases the radio or FaceBook.

You might start a conversation with a suspected normie by questioning the narrative that you are fed by the network news, or by the broadsheet papers. Even that is enough to sound pretty crazy to most people, who are on the level of “they couldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” If a person is on this level they are in no way ready to handle the idea that the government has lied to them about psychedelics for the sake of making them easier to control.

A useful tactic here is to point out how the governments and mainstream media of Anglosphere countries colluded to sell the lie that Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction in order to manufacture consent for the Iraq War. It’s possible now, though, that a person remembers those times differently and will choose to remember it in a way that denies this collusion.

It pays to be wary of the fact that most people are materialists, which implies that they believe that the brain generates consciousness, and that upon the death of the physical body this consciousness somehow “disappears”. These people consider all kinds of religious ideas like karma and God to be superstitions, and the bitterest contempt is reserved for those religious who believe that the consciousness survives the death of the physical body.

Unfortunately, this belief is also one of the major insights of psychedelics – perhaps it is this psychedelic insight that forms the foundation of most religious beliefs.

Psychedelics are hard, and integrating their lessons extremely hard

Mathematics is the way to get at people who are the hardest to reach. Expressing a sense of awe and wonder at how, for example, the Fibonacci sequence reoccurs in the state of Nature is a good way of getting a person to ask themselves whether there’s something other than sheer chance going on. Other ways are to express similar sentiments about the non-reoccurring nature of pi or the import of Goedel’s Incompleteness Theorem.

The way to talk about it so that it makes sense is by talking about previous beliefs that you once held that you either questioned or abandoned after taking a psychedelic. Usually this makes it possible to apply logic to dismantle one erroneous idea after the other, and it’s seldom necessary to mention that this destruction of illusion was achieved by means of psychedelics (any insight that psychedelics have brought you can be plausibly credited to either meditation or a near death experience as well).

For example, a psychedelicised person might be able to conduct a conversation with a normie about the boundaries of the human body, and how it’s not clear where inside ends and where outside begins. The very idea of selfishness starts to unravel if the idea of what it is that one might be selfish about is challenged, and by such means light can shine through.

This column believes that the ultimate goal of consciousness expansion is apotheosis, where an individual consciousness reunites themselves with the universal consciousness and becomes privy to certain mysteries, such as that there is no such thing as time and that the death of the physical body does not impact the true self.

Contemplation of this alone is liable to induce a psychiatric breakdown in a lot of people. Most people are so utterly terrified of the concept of their future death that they have pushed the very idea of it into a deep, dark part of the mind, only to be ventured into in an emergency. Even fewer people have looked deeply enough into their own minds to have made a surgically precise distinction between consciousness and the content of consciousness.

Starting with such subjects is probably too much. Most people will declare you crazy for talking about them rather than risk psychosis by dwelling on them.

Questioning the materialist dogma that the brain generates consciousness is the quickest way to be seen as crazy. This dogma is taken by many to be the absolute, inviolable and axiomatic truth of reality and conversation along these lines is likely to make materialists fear or despise you.

The best thing is probably to declare skepticism of the claims of a mutual enemy. The Government, the Church or Big Business can all serve as excellent mutual enemies. Skepticism of the claims of these mutual enemies might then be generalised into skepticism about other claims and dogmas.