Once upon a time, is how great stories begin. You heard this one, many years ago. Rest awhile and I will remind you of the path of the hearth
fire. The hearth fire is the place where great stories are told and
heard. Grandparents and the very young ones get to sit closest to
the fire because that is fair and proper and that is where they were when the
first heard about the path of the hearth fire. You remember Pythagoras. He was a school teacher. He learned
at the hearth fire, back in the day. He also saw that three joined lines could
make a triangle and the triangle was a thing of divine beauty. Socrates sat the feet of Pythagoras and learned of that
divine beauty while looking into the blazing warmth of that hearth fire. Plato sat as the feet of Socrates and the blazing hearth
fire warmed them on their coldest and darkest nights. Aristotle sat at the feet of Socrates and saw, in the blazing
fire, the coarse wood transmogrify to the brightest light. And Aristotle felt
his soul in that light. Aristotle watched the blazing light of the hearth fire warm
the souls around him. Aristotle watched how each and every soul around the hearth
fire glowed warmly from the blazing light. The old souls, the tiny souls, the
black, brown, white and yellow souls,
all warmed by the hearth fire. Later on, when declarations and constitutions were being
written around the world, Aristotle’s astute and kindly observations about all
souls informed the words of those writing founders. From time to time, sitting regally close to the hearth fire,
were beautiful women from the town of Delphi. The women were the Oracle. The
Oracle learned about souls from Aristotle and prophesised about every aspect of
civic life. The counsel of the Oracle was valued so highly that no important
decision was ever made without her. The declarations and the constitutions recognised that each
and every soul was divine and that in the same way that the coarse and often gnarled
logs would turn to useful blazing warmth and light and to fine ashes and dust,
so too all souls would transform around the hearth fire. Today the hearth fire is still blazing. Come and sit with me
and I will show you where Pythagoras was when he studied the triangle and where
Aristotle was when he saw all the souls. You get to sit at the hearth for only
a short time but you get to sit right where those great ones sat. The light of the hearth fire is a great place to study the wise
ones. Learn about the divine beauty of geometry and see that divine beauty in
all souls around you. Be inspired by the great ones and the wise ones. They have spent
more time around the hearth fire than you. Gather your own wood to put on the hearth fire so that you
can warm the young ones and the old ones, the black, brown, white and yellow
ones. Every time the hearth fire was blazing, the wise ones spoke
about the Tree of Life. Have you seen the way the tail of a horse is plaited ?
There are three strands and they fold over each other. The Tree of Life is like
that. It’s a very old Tree that has three branches. Learn about that Tree of Life because the wise ones have
stored their knowledge there. Learn about the branches on that Tree of Life.
There is a left branch and a right branch and a middle branch. Uncle Jordan speaks of chaos and order. The Tree uses the
words mercy and severity to describe the same realms. Uncle Iain McGilchrist speaks of the Master and the Emissary.
Uncle Iain speaks of your corpus callosum. Learn about that. It is the middle branch.
The Tree of Life calls the middle one Equilibrium. It is between the left and
the right. The wise ones at the hearth fire speak of walking the path
of the hearth fire. The path is the middle branch. A bit like Goldilock’s
porridge. Not too hot and not too cold. Not too much Mercy and not too much
Severity. Not too much chaos and not too much order. Not too much Emissary and not
too much Master. Not too much of the left and not too much of the right. The wise ones say that the Tree of Life is inside of you and
inside of your head and all around you and above you and below you. Learn from the
wise ones how the left and the right and the middle branches need each other
and have always needed each other and will always need each other. For ever and
ever.
For good or ill, what remains of Western civilization will
decide the fate of the world, because the West is the torch-bearer for
Prometheanism, from which the modern techno-age has sprung. We strive towards
infinite space exploration, speed, knowledge, power and compassion as
expressions of our prime symbol of Infinity.
Realize this and you see it everywhere. Unfortunately, we bargained away God, Country, and Tradition,
and so lost our identity. Our resultantly lowered guard let in a fresh, overlaying,
technologically-facilitated culture, patterned after the master magician
Aleister Crowley’s vision of the Age of Horus, when the old Father God is
replaced by the liberated but vulnerable Satanic Child, who discards the old order’s
values and ways in favor of the magical play of its Will. Its prime symbol is
the circumambient Magic Screen, endlessly
transformational of its content and of the society it saturates. The Screen whispers to us in our insecurity that all can be
remade, “closer to the heart’s desire.” Enter Communism. The Screen whispers to us in our foolishness that all
cultures are equal and good to welcome in. Enter Islam. The Screen whispers to us in our vanity that we can summon and
control demons. Enter AI. The military-financial blob sees opportunity in all this, as
an obliterated public identity rocked with alien invasion, unreliable
information overflow, and a million glittering drugs, is helpless to stop the
imposition of techno-feudalism. As Socrates said, democracy gives way to
tyranny. Before the West is completely ruined, some might resist
this, lashing out mindlessly, or with malformed ideology. There’s no telling
whether Providence will allow the West to rise to its own defense. If it does,
then a civilizational-wide civil war is in the cards, to crush Communism, push
out Islam, and bind AI before its “inversion of praxis” remolds the human mind
into the likeness of machines. What it comes down to is whether the West can enthrone the
idea of man being made in the image of the Trinitarian God, and therefore
creative, and therefore needing a society that fosters this creativity, or
whether it will be eaten by wolves. Without Jesus Christ as the cornerstone of the West, with
the “Filioque” principle of the Holy Spirit flowing from Christ, from the Son,
and therefore from the adopted children of God, the infantile Crowleyan Child
is helpless to resist the lure of Communism, the terror of Islam, and the
deceptions of AI. Cutting past such noise, we see that the immortal Church is
a kind of new Ark that--when its understanding of man, interpreted by
Prometheus and taught to Crowley, is rediscovered, transmitted and assimilated--will
allow the Ships of State to rise above the tumultuous Flood of the postmodern world. The great moral challenge in the world today is thus to
overcome its Eighth Deadly Sin: the “contempt of mission,” the despair and
apathy towards the fate of the West, and so of man and the world; and find the
scattered resources, wherewithal, and courage to defend it against the
bestiality of the enemy. Succeed, and infinite space awaits us, as the image on
the screen is of a sublime crucifixion.