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Magick and Angelina Jolie By Frater M.O. | |
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. 
I probably shouldn't be telling you this. It's all very personal and I don't like to kiss and tell but I just can't keep it to myself anymore. I have to tell someone. So, here goes. Last night I made love to Angelina Jolie! Yes, that skinny woman who stars in all the blockbuster movies, with the big lips and even bigger knockers. Yes, that Angelina Jolie. This will just be our little secret, okay.I met her at some hole-in-the-wall dive (yeah, I know what you're thinking, I was surprised to see her there too.). We started with some idle chatter about the breadsticks at the bar; then moved into politics and after a few drinks, some spiritual stuff. She is a down to earth woman; not at all what I would have expected from a big-time celebrity. Soon I discovered her looking deeper into my eyes. She began to laugh at all my jokes (even when I wasn't funny), she played with her hair by twirling it around her fingers and then she coyly confessed she could use a ride home. I found myself at her place and one thing sort of led to another when, you know, stuff happened. I would like to say it was sweet and gentle - a magickal sort of loving with intimacy and closeness but preconceived images never resemble the real thing. Rarely is my reality perfect. As it turned out, it was just a bunch of sweaty hair pulling in awkward positions. I mostly remember the red lava lamps, the art nouveau decor of her living room, Hendrix's "All along the Watchtower" humming in the background and Angelina's incessant moaning and passionate invocations of God and myself (not necessarily in that order). We did not even talk except at the end when she called me, "Stallion." Scratch my concerns about intimacy and closeness; it was perfect. Later, when we were saying our goodbyes, Angelina handed me five hundred dollars, in cash, and a gift card to Home Depot for an unspecified amount of money when we were interrupted. My fiancé asked me to stop snoring. How rude of her breaking up such a tender moment. I awoke; arms flailing and my head floating in a pillow drenched in my own slobber. That night I would have many other dreams; my conversation with Jethro the talking octopus, swimming in a rainbow, and an ill-fated arm wrestling match with Jesus (he got whooped!) - Just to name a few. However, the one with the Tomb Raider girl stuck out in my mind and played periodically throughout the next day wearing a grin. The details were all so real, so vivid. My fiancé would be so upset. As a somewhat public ceremonialist, I am often asked about magick - and I can see them coming from a mile away. They stand there, arms folded across their chest with a skeptical posture but with a hopeful expression. Then once they think no one is listening, they lean in and whisper, "Is it real?" Usually, I can tell what they seek is an answer to a crushing credit card bill or troubled waters within their love life. They want fast results and magick seems a better option than responsibility - but that's another story. "Is what real?" I say innocently and a little loudly causing them to shift nervously. "You know, is magick real!" They repeat in hushed tones. After several rounds of their caution and my feigned innocence, we get down to business. Eventually, I discover they already believe in magick to some degree but they want something real and undeniable; a burning bush, something that cannot be refuted - to push their belief system over-the-magickal-edge. After all, there must be more life than wading through stacks of credit card bills and renewing a membership in some lonely hearts club. "So tell me about your dreams?" I ask. This question is never popular. Their weight slides away from me, their hands drop to their hips and they immediately become defensive. They might blurt out something like, "What are you trying to say?" I suppose they think I am trying to psychoanalyze them in some belittling way. To not bruise someone's fragile psyche, I change tactics by placing the burden of "dreaming on me" (pretty tricky huh?). I continue, "I am trying to say that unless I put forth effort, I don't control my dreams. What happens in them; who or what I meet or if they turn out with a happy ending. Sometimes I'm sure I must be crazy for dreaming at all. However, when I think about it, no one else has my dreams but me. I certainly don't know where dreams originate from, neither does anyone else. Actually, at times, (this is where I lean in with a whisper done only for style points) when I pay attention I have had some amazing experiences and even learned a thing or two about myself. I guess that's why I start with dreams because it's so natural and such an obvious and overlooked place to start when I think about the huge question of magick being real." The questioners always agree. Their defensive posture changes again. Arms coming up from their waist to cross their chest, this time with one thoughtful hand messaging their chin as their eyes look yonder for a distant consideration. While I know some people don't dream or don't remember their dreams, most magickal folks, I know, do. We eventually talk about dreams and other slightly phenomenal things. If your hands are still on your hips and you don't want to start from the beginning, here is my out-on-a-limb answer. Yes, phenomenon happens - all the time. Can I guarantee the appropriate god or angelic form evoked into your living room with traditionally colored robes eating a box of "good 'n plenty" just the way you imagined? Can I guarantee an Ouija Board connection to your dead Aunt Gladys or that she will send you a check for fifteen dollars on your birthday from beyond the grave just as she did when she was alive? Probably not, but even if you do get that check from Aunt Gladys, with her Jesus-looking-pitiful hallmark cards with psalm number 13 inside. All of our experience is regulated by the shifting sands of our emotional self and the vast intellectualism from our strategic logic. In other words, most of us will find reasons why our phenomena could only be "dream." Something we routinely cast aside as a nothing. Something not of valuable as "real" experience. Most of us don't need proof or phenomenon to understand there is something in the Universe beyond our comprehension. What we need is faith. Have faith that dreams are worth exploration, you may be amazed what you find. Only our nay saying keeps these unique experiences locked in our sleep and lost on our unconscious. Truthfully, I can never be 100% certain of all of my phenomenal experience. Of course, I don't need 100% certainty to know many of them have come from magical action I have taken. My best magick shows up when I believe in myself and the Universe. As an added benefit, my dreams are vivid and sometimes open doors to great possibility I would not have seen in an otherwise conscious state. The pinks and yellows of my sunsets richer and sometimes I soar in that sunset "one star in a company of stars." Other times it's just me and Angelina Jolie knocking boots. Is that magick? Definitely. Love is the law, love under will. Frater M.O. PS. To promote freethinking I used poor Angelina Jolie as an unwitting character in my own diabolic agenda. Furthermore, the use of her name, within this essay, should not in anyway suggest a connection to Cor Lucis and to my knowledge, she is not Thelemite. Of course, I hope I am wrong; we could use a hot spokesperson. We can all dream can't we? Questions, comments and hate mail are strongly encouraged. By the way these thoughts do not necessarily reflect the ideals of Cor Lucis as a whole or its members… but they might.
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