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Wrapping up the Winter issue of Agapé (that’s Volume XII, Number 4) and pending final approval, here’s what it looks like:
The cover photo is of the wonderful Gnostic Mass temple created by Alombrados Oasis in New Orleans, and the articles are pretty cool too 
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Aurora and I have now set up virtual housekeeping in Second Life. We are renting half a sim as a homestead and have been busy setting it up. Here’s one section which, as you can see, is clearly influenced by more than a few Yes album covers:
Just the place for relaxing to some serious Prog tunage
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Skill, wisdom, adaptation. Craft, cunning, depending on dignity.
Eleoquent and charismatic both verbally and in writing,
you are clever, witty, inventive and persuasive.
The Magician is the male power of creation, creation by willpower and desire. In that ancient sense, it is the ability to make things so just by speaking them aloud. Reflecting this is the fact that the Magician is represented by Mercury. He represents the gift of tongues, a smooth talker, a salesman. Also clever with the slight of hand and a medicine man – either a real doctor or someone trying to sell you snake oil.
What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.
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Another mock book cover for the portfolio. This would be for a combined edition of Aleister Crowley’s two ‘novels’ of past ages.
Atlantis is in fact 93% parody of all those turgid, moralistic Theosophical tomes about lost continents. Still lots of fun though and it’s actually one of my favourite pieces of Crowley’s fiction. Across the Gulf is set in Ancient Egypt and supposedly chronicles the transition for the Æon of Isis to the Æon of Osiris, and the most charitable thing I can say about it is that it works better as myth than as archæology.
Still, I would love to actually produce this book someday…
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Yeah, I got on Twitter (see sidebar).
Deal with it.
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Here’s a bit of holiday cheer regarding the original 25 December celebration, written by an old friend of mine.
A Mithrasmas Carol
Words by Brother R.B.
(Sung to the tune of Frosty the Snowman)
Mithras the Sun-God
Was a jolly happy soul,
And he slew a bull
On solstice day
So the world would not get cold.
Mithras the Sun-God
Is a solar myth they say,
But the Gnostics know
He obeyed the crow
And he killed that bull one day.
The Sun required a sacrifice
To keep from getting dim,
And when Mithras slew the bull, old Sol
Came down to feast with him.
Mithras the Sun-God
He saved the world from Night,
And his immolation
Also brought salvation
To the men who sought the Light.
Pater accipe, Sancte accipe
Thuricremos leones,
Per quos thuradamus,
Per quos consumimur
Ipsi, O Meithra!
Mithras the Sun-God
Asia Minor was his home,
But his chosen priest
Travelled from the East
And established his cult at Rome.
Mithras the Sun-God
Had an initiatory cult,
Through seven degrees
They sought Light and Peace
In a subterranean vault.
There must have been some magic
In that Phrygian cap he wore,
For when they placed it on their heads
His initiates were reborn.
Jesus the Sun-God
Made Mithras go away,
but he waved goobye
Saying ‘Don’t you cry,
I’ll be back again some day!’
[The middle section, corresponding to ‘Thumpety-thump-thump...’ in the original, is adapted from an invocation inscribed on the wall of the Mithraeum under Santa Prisca.]
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Aurora and I are celebrating our first Yule together and the universe seems to be working overtime to make sure we’ll look back and say, ‘Well, there was nowhere to go but up after that.’ I shall explain.
First of all, we’re essentially broke.
Second of all, the computer Brother Terry gave Aurora is having one inexplicable problem after another, the latest being that MicroSlop says the copy of Windoze it has is pirated, which revelation I am sure will surprise Terry no end.
Thirdly, Aurora’s daughter is still trapped in Ohio (the Land of Woe, you remember) and therefore can’t be with us.
Fourth, there’s no chance of snow. (All right, Aurora doesn’t miss it but I do.)
Fifth, we both managed to come down with colds yesterday, though it seems mine is worse. As usual with me, a cold means I can’t sleep more than a few hours at a time, which explains why I’m posting this at the uncouth hour of 9:00 am.
And sixth, there’s that business of Aurora’s father passing away the other week. We went back to Ohio for the funeral, and I must say that her mother actually behaved. Sort of. Probably because I was there to look all menacing and such. Even sociopaths know better than to act out in front of independent witnesses. See Aurora’s blog for more details.
On the other hand, we are together and we’re safe in a comfy home and we have lots of good food to eat and warm cats to snuggle and we did manage to have presents for each other, oh, and we’re together
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Aurora and I just had an especially woeful weekend, about which I shall blog when I feel more up to it. In the meantime, since I hate cars, here is my list of the ten worst possible car names:
10: The Pontiac Bulbous
9: The Nissan Herpes
8: The Ford Flatus
7: The Hyundai Hurl
6: The Buick Ick
5: The Cadillac Plausible Deniability
4: The Citoen Escargot
3: The Volkswagen Panzer
2: Anything with BMW in it
1: The Chrysler LeBlog
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Remember: a little mayhem never hurt anyone.
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Well the Fall issue of Agapé is completed and at the printers! A loud Huzzah! is in order, especially as, at 20 pages, it is the longest issue ever. Also the Summer issue is available for download at http://www.oto-usa.org/agape.html.
Now to turn my attention to other projects for awhile…
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