There will always be more to learn about the long history of human civilisation than what we may find in the collected records bequeathed to us by the victors of battles past. In fact one only has to scrape away the loose topsoil of any period of accepted history to expose rich seams of lesser-known information that often serve to shed fresh light on the age-old questions surrounding who we are and how our cultures have evolved.
‘Western’ culture, just as we find with its counterpart in the east, is inextricably bound to a set of religious and spiritual doctrines that have exerted a profound and far-reaching influence over society. Sometimes this influence is overt and all too easy to spot; for instance, no one could deny the overweening influence of the Roman church on the last two thousand years of western civilisation. Yet at other times, certain other religio-spiritual influences may have been just as strong, even though their origins have appeared far less obvious – perhaps even from being deliberately hidden from plain view.
From the shamanic, animistic proto-religions of the early European hunter-gatherers to the highly developed spiritual systems of the druids and the ancient Egyptians, not to mention the two thousand years of social domination by the church of Rome, it cannot be denied that religion has exerted a profound influence over the way literally millions of people have thought and acted over millennia. It’s an influence that continues to this day, even if the front-and-centre position of the main western spiritual hegemony appears to be largely on the wane.
Despite the obvious links between western culture and its native branch of spirituality, the notion that there may be an ancient and living western esoteric tradition every bit as deep and essential as that found in the east has, until relatively recently, been largely the preserve of the crank or the religious maverick. In the last few years however the so-called ‘western mysteries’ have begun to gain more ground within academic circles as a legitimate area of study. Various universities in Europe such as Exeter and Amsterdam now run respected courses in Western Esoterics and slowly but surely the hidden spiritual traditions of the west are gaining the respect so long afforded to their eastern cousins.
Hidden Wisdom is a noble attempt to set out the story of what is usually referred to as the ‘Western Mystery Tradition’; an umbrella term encompassing all manner of spiritual, religious and mystical systems that fall outside the purview of the accepted dogma sanctioned by the church, from ancient Greek philosophy and early Gnosticism through to alchemy, occultism, freemasonry, alchemy and magic. Here we find the tale of the other spiritual tradition of the west; a tempestuous tale of direct contact with the divine, of beauty, suppression, torture and courage. For it is undoubtedly true that many spiritual traditions of the west have remained obscure – at least in part – due to their often violent and bloody suppression on the part of the competition.
In the battle for the hearts and minds of the faithful, the book argues, there has been remarkably little to be found in the way of compassion exhibited by those professing to embody that divine gift through the practising of the Christian faith. In point of fact (we are reminded constantly) more death and destruction has been meted out in the name of the ‘gentle Jesus’ than by any other religion. A jealous God, it would appear, begets a jealous faith and in its quest to remain the sole religious authority in the western world, the church has historically stopped at nothing to ensure the silencing of any voices which may offer an alternative to their own particular brand of salvation.
In this book the author Tim Wallace-Murphy presents an alternative viewpoint on the long and fascinating history of the western world by focusing on its mystery traditions and leading the reader on a tour through hidden history – one that wasn’t written by the victors. In a way, this is both the book’s greatest strength and its greatest weakness. The reader is left in no doubt whatsoever of Wallace-Murphy’s standpoint, whose near shrillness in his frequent condemnation of the church eventually serves to weaken his case – even to those readers who may agree wholeheartedly with his viewpoint.
While on the whole the book is pretty well-written and researched, the grinding of Wallace-Murphy’s personal axe is a just a little too overbearing a little too often. The reader is left at times with little or no room to draw their own conclusions since one is already being presented so strongly; ie: that the hidden traditions of the west are more beautiful, profound and ultimately legitimate than anything that can be offered by the villainous and morally corrupt church. While this may or may not be true, Wallace-Murphy frequently spends more time engaged in invective against the persecutor than actually explaining why he holds the opinion that he does about those who have endured so much persecution for their beliefs.
There is also the issue of misappropriated terminology. For instance, in an early chapter the reader is introduced to the concept of ‘gnosis’ in a discussion of ancient druidism – a tradition which used no such term as far as is known, yet when the author begins to discuss the early Christian Gnostics, no explanation of what the term ‘Gnostic’ actually means is offered. We are left then, wondering exactly who this book is aimed at since specialised terms are used but never satisfactorily elaborated on, while little or no new information is being offered that could not be found elsewhere in books that frankly render this volume largely redundant. Had The Elixir and the Stone by Richard Leigh and Michael Baigent, or Jonathan Black’s Secret History of the World not already been written, there might be a real place for Hidden Wisdom, but in the opinion of the present reviewer, these two other books treat the same subject in a much more balanced and dare I say it, scholarly fashion.
That is not to say that Hidden Wisdom is not without its merits. It offers an easy to read and in places fascinating look at one of the most neglected subjects in western culture and any additions to the body of work exploring western esoterica are to be applauded. If however you want a primer on the subject, it has to be said that better books already exist. If on the other hand, matters hermetic are your thing, Hidden Wisdom may well prove worth a look. But if you’re searching for – as the book’s strapline boldly announces – the Secrets of the Western Esoteric Tradition, you may find yourself rather disappointed at what you find within its pages.
Adrian Dobbie
Daddytank’s unquenchable thirst for more Buffy returns in this, the second of his series of graphic novel reviews:

No future my eye...bet there's more
The second instalment of Season 8 (in comic form) finds us re-acquainting ourselves with some of the characters who didn’t make much of an appearance in “The Long Way Home” ie: Giles, Faith and Robin “Principal” Wood. We discover that they have not moved far from their former lives, and all are still struggling in a world where they find themselves in the outer circle of Buffy’s trust. The issues that placed them at odds with the Slayer (to greater and lesser degrees) remain largely unsolved but they are still “fighting the good fight”.

urban!
In terms of the TV show, I guess this episode would rank as a “the plot thickens” kind of thing. The threat established in “The Long Way Home” does not surface but is alluded to, and lines are drawn to extend the story arc to the point where one can have some tantalising guesses at where this is all going. One of the high points of this volume is the increasingly warm relationship between Giles and Faith. Now some may argue that as their relationship not so long ago was that of torturer and tortured, that they seem a little chummy, but they began working through some of these issues before the end of Season 7. There is also the unspecified (but obviously relatively lengthy) time period that has elapsed since Sunnydale imploded, during which bygones have obviously become bygones. Anyway, I can tell you now that if I was going to be tortured by anyone I would want it to be Faith, who has been superbly rendered in terms of both dialogue and art in “No Future For You”. It’s great to have her back. Faith is like a Terminator on a tea break, companionable and witty but still ready and willing to kill literally anyone and everyone that she has to.
My only complaints about “No Future For You” are very slight and very specific and while I have managed to avoid spoilers in these reviews so far, I will have to reveal the two small details that made me upset. Firstly, Joss Whedon has always been pretty keen with his pop culture references, but when I found myself listening to Faith discussing Amy Winehouse in a positive fashion (albeit briefly in an otherwise fascinating piece of story) my bile duct instantly exploded and showered my heart with acid.

I always did like Faith!
How can I put this in a genteel fashion? Amy Winehouse is a twat. I don’t want her to exist in the Buffyverse. I don’t want her to exist in the Me-verse. I also didn’t take particularly kindly to a throwaway remark about the Stone Roses; but that’s just because I hate them. What I will say in Joss Whedon’s defense though, is that music was never well represented in the world of Buffy; with the Bronze regularly hosting some of the lamest bands in all available dimensions. You can’t be good at everything I suppose.
One final criticism would be that Genevieve (the “baddy” in this episode) is a little unconvincing, and is also the most ludicrously stereotypical “English” person to appear in Buffy since the “Cor Blimey” Slayerette who turned up at Buffy’s house in Season 7. Thankfully it never quite hits the same level of farce that arose with the utterly ludicrous Kendra (the Jamaican Slayer).
Daddytank

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I have never been a member of a cult. I was never a Trek-kie or a Star Wars knob. I have never really attached myself to any cultural (or sub-cultural) trend in earnest, unless you count an unholy devotion to the forces of heavy metal between 1988 and 1995. One might assume then that I would manage to successfully side step the whole issue of fanboy-ism and progress in a mature and responsible fashion to adulthood, without getting sidetracked into conventions and the whole sick sad world that this entails.
But I hadn’t bet on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Slavish devotion followed. Total emotional dependence on the scoobies led to a crushing sense of defeat when both Buffy and Angel were cancelled within a year of each other. The sense of loss when I watched the final episode of Buffy was tangible and space was cleared for Buffy in the small box of things I take seriously in my heart.

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Yes, I signed petitions, and sure I felt a small start of excitement when the rumour went around that there was going to be a Season 8 movie, but it all came to nothing. Until 0ctober 2007. Now, because I am an ill-informed chap I didn’t find out about the Dark Horse comics continuation of the Buffy saga until Christmas of 2007 but the good news was like an aneurysm of joy in my brain. Dark Horse, the uncompromising comic-publishing heroes of my youth, had teamed up with Joss Whedon to bring the story to fruition. Maybe there was a God after all ?
But anyone who knows the mythology of the resurrected cult icon knows that failure is a more commonly travelled road than success. Think Doctor Who, Aliens vs Predator, Terminator 3, Jason vs Freddy. Maybe not the most lucid selection but all epic fails in my eyes. So does Buffy measure up ?
Oh yes. Volume 1 of the Long Way Home is an absolute success in every respect. The art is fairly standard comic book fare, but when dealing with such a well established Buffy-verse, anything too experimental or abstract would only be a distraction. So it knuckles down to taking us from the point at which we last saw the gang (at the edge of the smoking black pit formerly known as Sunnydale) to “the present”. Most of the major characters make an appearance in a pleasingly low key style, rather than the reader being smacked in the face with a succession of “…look it’s X …haven’t you missed them…” scenarios. But that doesn’t mean it’s all low key, after all it’s not a “weepy episode” of Buffy, it’s the triumphant return, and as such there are there are an assortment of surprises, some great fights and dialogue so in character that I wanted to hug Joss Whedon for being so very good at what he does.

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The most compelling thing about this first installment though, for me, is how close this comic feels in spirit to the TV show. The dialogue, art and early plot all merge into an experience that is very close in spirit to the TV show. It is primarily this which made me want to write the review, because I suspect that there are Buffy fans out there who haven’t discovered “The Long Way Home” on the basis that they are not comic fans. Indeed, a couple of close friends (and fellow Buffy gimps) who are just as obsessed as me, have still not read “The Long Way Home” a year after I got hold of it. I can only put this down to a distrust of the medium of comics, or maybe it is slightly more complex. Maybe it is the niggling worry that a mere comic can’t possibly hope to carry the weight of the Buffy-verse or accurately convey the warm wit of Whedon ? If these worries are afflicting you, fellow Buffy nerds, cast them aside, and re-immerse yourself. Satisfaction is guaranteed.
Daddytank

grimoire1
An Anthology of Pop Culture Magic
Taylor Ellwood (Ed.) et al
Megalithica Books/Immanion Press
The etymology of the term ‘Grimoire’ is as interesting as its contents. Deriving from the old French term ‘grammiere’, which in turn originates from the Greek word ‘grammatikos’. These terms have later been the influence for more contemporary phrases such as ‘grammar’ and ‘glamour’. So it is no surprise, taking the latter into consideration, that the mysterious text has made its way into pop-culture. Dating back to medieval times, the Grimoire was often a way of concealing Magical text from the eyes of the Christian church, who would have made issue with its very existence. Grimoires were basically what we now know as magical texts; they would contain astrological correspondences, spells, elemental callings, talismans etc etc.
Grimoires have been highly influential in latter-day magic also. The Golden Dawn and Aliester Crowley’s O.T.O. and Argenteum Astrum, would not have been as we know them, without the influence of some very key grimoires discovered in the Renaissance periods. One such example is the Greater Key of Solomon, who’s secrets contained such conjurations as invocations, curses, and purifications spread across two books. Another, perhaps more important example, is the The Book of Sacred Magic of Abra-Melin the Mage, which had a profound effect on Crowley and his Golden Dawn tutor (and later magickal enemy) S.L. MacGregor Mathers.
So, with some interest, I dipped into this grimoire for the 21st century to see how Taylor Ellwood and his magical kin would present their own modern example of this mysterious tomb. The Pop Culture Grimoire is, put basically, a collection of different authors offering up different examples of how to practically conduct ‘Pop-Culture- Magic’. Ellwood, the editor of the book, has championed this practice in earlier texts, such as the excellently written ‘Pop Culture Magick’. But in this case, we get to meet a whole new cast of Magicians, and get their take on the subject.
As with any text that compiles different writers interpretations of a subject, I found the book to have its ups and downs. This is healthy though, as I feel it allows you to help shape your own interpretation of the subject matter, with a myriad of examples to source from. One example I didn’t resonate with particularly, was Lisa McSherry’s offering, which to me seemed more like a discussion of an iTunes playlist than any real magical instruction. However, there is some great stuff on offer here. Lupa’s interpretation of the amazing Manga series Neon Genesis Evangelion is very well considered, and I think excellently interpreted within the Pop Cultural context. Jackie Schmitt also offers a great tale of how an online vampire character took on a role in an awkward potential legal problem, to seemingly great effect.
I think what will appeal to readers is the familiarity with some of the ‘entities’ on offer. Ellwood and co really do take on a broad range of pop-cultural archetypes, and cleverly reinterpret them into tried and tested magical systems (Bill Whitcomb’s Tarot being a great example). You’re probably not going to be moved by all of the writers however, but that’s the joy of critical thought. I would also recommend getting your hands on the aforementioned ‘Pop Culture Magick’ by Taylor Ellwood, as this book seems to me to be a perfect companion, broadening the subject further. Overall then, a good read, especially when in tandem with it’s predecessor, but I would say this still stands out on its own merit as an essential text for the experimental practitioner.
Ken Eakins

The Path of Initiation in the Western Mysteries
The Teachings of the Ibis Fraternity
W.E. Butler
The celebrated occult author and teacher W.E. Butler was born at the turn of the 20th century and began his lifelong spiritual career among the Hindu mystics of India. Later, after being drawn to Theosophy he joined Dion Fortune’s magical Order, The Society of the Inner Light, which he went on to head after Fortune’s death.
Lords of Light presents the reader with a faithful record of Butler’s last public lectures in which are outlined the philosophies underpinning his own magical Order, The Ibis Fraternity, which he set up only very shortly before his own death in 1978. Reading this book will give you an education like one you can get from a university or a site similar to elearners.com. This book contains information on the path of initiation in the Western Mysteries that it is hard to find elsewhere.
As a historical document, Lords of Light presents a curious look back in time to the last gasp of old guard Western magic, for within a few short years from the time of these lectures, the seismic shift caused by Ramsey Dukes and Peter Carroll’s new Chaos magic would have reshaped the Western occult landscape forever.
The lectures in Lords of Light cover a wide variety of topics that students of the Western mysteries will immediately recognise, revealing a fascinating insight into the evolutionary strand of Western occultism as transmitted by Dion Fortune via the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn.
As a student of Dion Fortune, Butler inevitably brought many of his mentor’s ideas into his own teachings. At times it is almost impossible to ascertain from this text where his own Ibis Fraternity ends and Fortune’s Society of the Inner Light begins, given that both expound what amounts to Qabalistic mysticism entirely compatible with the more liberal strands of Christianity.
In reading, one gets a strong picture of an amiable though learned old man in his last days rambling on to a room full of patiently attentive students. So Theosophical is the overall tone that the text could quite easily have hailed from a century earlier, as indeed could the questions from the floor that Butler graciously answers.
For those of us who prefer our occultism with a New Aeon flavour, it brings the revolutionary nature of Crowley‘s Thelemic Magick into very sharp relief. While Crowley’s work is largely dismissed by Butler and his school, a fascinating clue to the depth of The Beast’s influence on Butler’s teacher is nevertheless revealed within. At one point Butler quotes from a Solar Adoration that is obviously adapted from Crowley’s own paean to the Sun, Liber Resh. One is left in little doubt that Fortune must have been behind the reworking of Crowley’s earlier text.
In many ways it’s hard to see why this book has been reissued. It gives no explicit practical information despite claims to the contrary on the back cover blurb and is certainly very much ‘of it’s time’. Yet within the text we nevertheless find what could best be described as ‘eternal truths’, many of which are still worth investigating whatever your magical or mystical proclivities.
To conclude, the language may be a little quaint, the overall message perhaps a little too beige for this age of information overload, but for all this there is much to interest the occult student, if for no other reason than to put more modern magical practices into a better historical context.
Adrian Dobbie
Daddytank joins the team of CounterComic fans, this time reviewing the amazing ‘From Hell’.
From Hell – Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell
In my heyday of comic reading, graphic novels were a pricey proposition. I used to gaze at these amazing tomes in Forbidden Planet or Games Workshop and wish that I had the patience to save up for them but I needed my weekly fix of Judge Dredd, Nemesis, Rogue Trooper, Slaine etc. I needed 2000 AD. And it was through 2000 AD that I came to be familiar with the name Alan Moore.
“Watchmen” is considered by many a comic nerd to be the ultimate graphic novel, but that honour is given by other comic nerds to another of Moore’s works, “From Hell”. And up until six months ago I had read neither. Now I realize that at this point anyone reading this will be thinking “…what’s this twat doing a review on graphic novels for when he’s only just read Watchmen, released in 1986/7.” Well, that’s why I wrote the first part. It was sort of an excuse. Anyway, on with the review.
“From Hell” is a gothic nightmare. Eddie Campbell must have gone through litres of black ink creating his scrawled and scratchy recreation of London at its worst and it provides the perfect backdrop for Moore’s semi-imagined narrative of the Jack the Ripper story. I say semi-imagined because once you have read this book, it is very difficult to believe any of the other hypotheses that have been raised on the identity of the Ripper over the years. Moore and Campbell did a huge amount of research into creating this work, detailing everything from the architecture and dress of the time, to reading the hundreds of biographies of the characters involved. This attentiveness is rewarded in the deeply compelling and impressively realistic world they create.
There are no heroes in this story, only a variation in the degrees of villainy. The working classes of the east End are a morally bankrupt and diseased bunch but at least they are not the architects of the true evil in “From Hell”. This role lies in the hands of the establishment as populated by the Monarchy, Police and Freemasons. The course of the plot follows many of the lines of research conducted over the years, but the book most often referred to by Moore is Stephen Knight’s “Jack The Ripper : The Final Solution” which was the first to allege a conspiracy of the establishment and to point the finger at Sir William Withey Gull, Queen Victoria’s physician.
There are so many good reasons to read this book. It’s empathic portrayal of the plight of the Victorian working classes and it’s luckless “Daughters of Joy” (the slang name for street prostitutes). It’s loving treatment of the crumbling British Empire, with its creaking justice system and its syphilitic prince Albert. It’s brooding Queen Victoria looming over a snakepit of Freemasons, aristocrats and senior dignitaries in a darkly internecine conspiracy. There are so many vivid flashes that make “From Hell” an amazing read. The single frame in which you see the world through Sir William Withey Gull’s eyes, not as a lightless, industrial ghetto but as a vivid Renaissance scene. The joyless graphic sex, and miserable living conditions of the prostitutes at the heart of the story. The truly disturbing chapter which deals with the treatment of the unfortunate Marie Kelly, after being visited by the Ripper. But there is no exploitative element to the portrayal of any of these events (as can so often happen in graphic novels) and Moore is keen to point out in the illuminating appendices (and the touching dedication) of “From Hell” that the women who died at the hands of Jack the Ripper were poorly served by all in life and death.
On reflection, I probably never made any effort to find and read this book because I went to see “From Hell” in the cinema. I was less than impressed and so I wasn’t too sure that I was going to enjoy reading it. Do not let that piece of shit film deter you from reading it. Personally, I think it’s better than “Watchmen”. Not because “Watchmen” isn’t genius, but because it’s even darker and even more reflective of humanity at its lowest. And because I’m sick and sad that appeals to me. And if you’ve read this far it probably appeals to you too.
Scott Carelli loves comics and other geek-related stuff. He talks about it weekly on his podcasts Two Geeks a Mic and a Podcast and True Believers on Geekshow.us. He also created and produces an audio series called Geek by Night also on Geekshow.us. Check them out!

After two comic reviews for series heavy in supernatural elements (Preacher, Lucifer), I thought the best choice would be to review a comic that’s much more realistic and profound. The kind of story filled with thought provoking social commentary that causes you to question the very fabric that makes up our society. Something that is so somber and disheartening that you’ll never look at humanity the same way again. Naturally, only one subject immediately came to mind: Zombies.
Yes, you read that right. Zombies, when used correctly, should make you see humanity in a different light. It might not be pretty, but it’s real and it’s honest. The best zombie stories aren’t about the living dead, but instead use that as the setting for a story about people and how they live and deal with an impossible situation. Not since Romero have zombies been used this well. Not until The Walking Dead.
Created by Robert Kirkman and Tony Moore, The Walking Dead chronicles the life of police officer Rick Grimes as he wakes up from a coma to a world he doesn’t recognize. He later happens upon a group of fellow survivors and the series continues to follow these characters as they live and die in a world overrun with the living dead.
The most important thing to note about this series is its realistic approach to the situation they suddenly find themselves in. The circumstances might not be realistic, but the reaction the characters have to it certainly is. A zombie apocalypse is the ultimate extreme situation. I’m not sure that it can really get any worse than that. What Kirkman does here, though, is gives us a natural progression of events that are completely believable. This is what a zombie outbreak would be like to live through. This is how your friends and neighbors would change in reaction to the new world order. It’s the kind of story that makes you seriously reflect on yourself as you wonder what you would do in their situation. It’s really fascinating stuff.
The characters themselves are eerily real. Not only in believability, but I sincerely feel that I’ve met them all before. I’ve passed them on the street, sat next to them at the movie theater, stood behind them in line at McDonalds. They feel like real people. So whenever one of them dies it always grabs you, and I find myself reacting to it in a similar way that I would in reality. It’s usually sudden and really shocking at first, and then it’s sad as it begins to sink it. Death is something that is dealt with very effectively in this series, and it’s dealt with often. If there’s one thing that I want to stress more than anything about this series it’s one simple fact:
No one is safe.
It doesn’t matter who they are. Whether it’s the new character that’s just shown up, the mother of two kids that’s been there since issue two, the main character, or even a newborn infant, no one, I mean no one is safe. And they know it. As you read the series you’ll see how the characters’ hope of survival or salvation is slowly depleted to nothing. They know they’re going to die. It’s not a matter of if anymore, it’s just a matter of when and how. That knowledge within each character grows and intensifies with every issue. You can hear it in the dialogue and you can see it in the artwork.
The artwork in this series is what paints the picture of this world for me so well. While Tony Moore is undoubtedly a fantastic talent, it wasn’t until artist Charlie Adlard came on board with issue 7 that the series really came into its own. Adlard brought the gritty realism that was lacking from Moore’s initial six issues. When Adlard started on the book, I’ll be honest; I didn’t even notice the change. That’s not to say that Moore and Adlard have even remotely similar styles, it’s just that his artwork worked so well with this story that I never questioned it. I think this was always meant to be Adlard’s book, and Moore was just holding his spot.
The choice to color the series with gray tones is an interesting one. One would think that having such a realistic story to tell, Kirkman and Moore would have chosen to do the book in color, after all, that’s how we see the real world. But, this is a series about shades of gray, and I think that the decision to do the book in black and white has a lot to do with that. I don’t think that the characters see the world in color anymore. That’s not the world they live in. Their world is dark and dank and dismal. It’s like a gloomy day that never lets up.
The Walking Dead continues to be a favorite of mine, month in and month out, and I think that there’s something in this book for everyone. You don’t even have to like the horror genre, because that’s not what this is. The title isn’t referencing the hoards of zombies that limp and moan their way through this series; it’s about the people, trying to survive each day knowing that death is all they have to look forward to in life.
That’d be a tough world to live in, but it’s a fascinating one to read about.
NEXT TIME: Ex Machina
This book made an exceptionally long wait for the train home from this weekends ‘Unconvention’ in London, far more bearable and amusing. I mean come on, what’s better than reading stories about Koi?…no, really!
Jonathan Downes is one of those writers that you’ll naturally levitate towards if you’re a fan of the ‘Fortean’ way. He runs the amazing Centre for Fortean Zoology, has written a whole load of books, and goes looking for crazy anomalous creatures in the wildest parts of the world, thus making him instantly one of my heroes.
After finally meeting the man at the Uncon this weekend, I was persuaded by a young lady, I think maybe his daughter, into buying this book. At first I was reluctant, I mean, how can a book about Koi Carp be any fun to read right? I know nothing about carp, nothing at all; luckily for the reader, neither does Mr Downes! We’ve all been there; broke and desperate for work to pay the rent. But I would never have had the balls to trick a Koi Carp Magazine into running a series on the ‘Fortean aspects of their hobby’.
After a hilarious forward, we are propelled into the semi-true Fortean-world of Koi collecting. The book is basically a compendium of two years worth of articles, that get more and more strange as they go on. You actually end up not only laughing along with stories, but also at the obvious break-down in Koi-related material available to Downes, leading to some of the most ludicrously funny articles I have ever read.
I think the most amazing thing is that the author managed to pull the fishy-wool over the magazine editors eyes for so long. The book jumps from saving Hitler’s Koi, to NASA sending Koi into space and eventually Alien Koi abduction! This book is great, it serves its purpose in providing giggles, and it will confuse the hell out of people that spy it on your coffee table, which makes it even better!
4.5/5
Ken Eakins
When Scott offered up his first review, and it turned out to be Preacher, I cursed the skies for not calling shotgun on reviewing that classic series first! However, not to be outdone, I eyed up my own collection of oddball comics and imediatley landed on Lucifer….must be the devils work (drumroll please).
Now, you may be suprised to hear that I actually do not like Neil Gaimen’s Lamented goth-fest Sandman, in fact, a mere glimpse of it’s ‘Sisters of Mercy-esque’ covers bring bile to my throat. I might have to re-read the series, however, as my hatred spawns not just from the work per se, but more from the pretensious idiots that idolise it! I swear to god, if I see one more girl trying to dress like ‘Death’ from the book, I will actually go insane!
Anyway, bearing this in mind, I naturally avoided this long-running spin-off for many years, but the devil got the better of me (ow! they keep coming), and a couple of years ago I found myself flipping through the first book whilst trying to kill some time. An hour, and a dirty look from the comic-shop’s manager later, I decided that I should probably invest in my own copies of this amazing series, and purchased books one to four.
Lucifer, somewhat obviously, made his first significant DC appearance in the aforementioned Sandman, resigning his lordship over hell due to what he felt was unfair treatment at the hands of God. So where would the Prince of the Darkness, the Morningstar, the Fallen Angel goto next?
The story of Lucifer picks up with our anti-hero running a piano club in the heart of Los Angeles with his ‘lilim’ (a race born of ‘Lilith’) assistant ‘Mazikeen’, whos beautiful features are scared along one-side by hideous deformities. Everything seems fairly tranquil for the horned-one, until a messenger of God appears to make him an offer he cannot refuse. It appears that an unseen force has begun granting peoples wishes, which on the face of it, appears to be a good thing. The messenger argues, however, that human desire is a dangerous force, and that the humans will begin ripping themselves apart if left wallowing in it. Lucifer accepts the offer and, when asked to name his price to God, states that creator of all things will know what his former serf desires. This favour soon opens the gateways to a series of brilliantly told stories that do not slip as the series progresses.
The ‘theme’ of the series centres around Lucifer’s disdain with the universes predetermined nature, and gradually as the series unfolds, his rebellion against this fixed concept. The character of Lucifer is actually quite likeable, his relationship with Mazikeen is actually quite touching, you get the impression that she is the only charecter that he truly ‘likes’ in the entire series. However, some instances are thrown in that make us remember exactly who it is that we are relating to; often in some quite disturbing ways.
Essentially, the series is a tale of rebellion. Lucifer playing the Timothy Leary to God’s mainstream oppressor, and the attempt to steal a new, undetermined universe from the hands of the original creator. Heavy topics, yes. But told through some very entertaining plot devices and with a wicked sense of humour, that lifts the saga above some of its peers in my opinion.
Ken Eakins
Nextime: The Walking Dead
The Heretic’s Guide to Thelema
By Gerald Del Campo
Thelema. This ancient Greek word meaning ‘will’ first took prominence in Rabelais’ famous 16th century religious satire Gargantua and Pantagruel. Rabelais’ book featured the ‘Abbey of Thelema’, whose monks and nuns proclaimed no law other than ‘Do as thou wilt’. Conceived as a humorous literary criticism of the strictures of late medieval religious hegemony, the book caused considerable controversy in its day for daring to poke fun at the establishment. In fact, the book’s cultural impact was such that it heavily influenced the various Hellfire Clubs that came into vogue amongst the European gentry some two centuries later. By 1922, an English occultist by the name of Aleister Crowley was to form a real Abbey of Thelema, based on his own magickal and mystical system of the same name. Crowley’s Abbey was doomed to failure, but his version of Thelema with its oft-misunderstood central maxim of ‘Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law’ lives on to this day. Crowley’s writings, now in much wider circulation than they ever were during his lifetime, have since gone on to spur generations to seek after the hidden truths at the heart of the Western occult tradition.
Gerald Del Campo, the author of a Heretic’s Guide to Thelema is one such seeker and this book is the result of many years’ experimentation with the philosophy of ‘Do what thou wilt’.
The Heretic’s Guide is actually three books in one. The first two, New Aeon Magick: Thelema Without Tears and New Aeon English Qabalah Revealed have been published previously and will be familiar to most people with an interest in Crowley’s philosophy of Thelema. Here they are reproduced in a largely unchanged format and it has to be said they stand up to a second read. New Aeon Magick, written as a Thelemic magickal primer aimed at educating the author’s children, looks at the specifics of Thelemic philosophy and symbolism, giving concise breakdowns of the Qabalah, key Thelemic rituals and the primary Thelemic gods. It easily ranks alongside the DuQuettes of this world and while experienced practitioners may find it a little too basic, it nevertheless presents a perfect entry point for the newcomer.
New Aeon English Qabalah Revealed is a little more recondite in that it deals with the decoding of a particularly cryptic passage in Crowley’s received holy text, Liber Al vel Legis, which Del Campo claims, opens up the English alphabet for use as a tool for Qabalistic analysis in much the same way that Hebrew has been used by Western occultists for centuries. It makes a convincing case for a new understanding of Qabalah and the system is well worth experimenting with if the pursuit of enlightenment through occult Sudoku is your kind of thing.
The Ethics of Thelema is the most recently penned and only previously unpublished section of The Heretic’s Guide. While undoubtedly serving as a thinly veiled manifesto for Del Campo’s own chivalric Order of Thelemic Knights, it nevertheless manages to examine the question of ethics with a degree of insight rarely seen in modern Thelemic writings.
Del Campo’s message is clear: Thelema is nothing without nobility of spirit. The polemical essays collected under the title The Ethics of Thelema are largely concerned with arguing the case for a modern take on knightly chivalry within the Thelemic paradigm. Compassion here is the vice of kings alright, but this is very much seen as a positive trait to be encouraged.
Del Campo obviously has no truck with Social Darwinist Thelemites who often seem to allow their appreciation of Nietzsche to overshadow that of Crowley. Del Campo is quick to point out that Nietzsche rarely walked his own talk and died insane (with a moustache like that is it any wonder?) and is therefore perhaps not the best role model to follow, despite his status as Thelemic ‘Saint’.
Crowley doesn’t avoid coming under fire either, nor do the current leaders of the larger Thelemic organisations, but Del Campo’s main thrust is this: if Scientific Illuminism is to sow the seeds of world transformation, and be sure he is quite certain that it can, we must move beyond attempts to impose rigid interpretations onto Crowley’s inconsistent writings, and instead push forward in developing our own personal understandings of Thelema through direct action in the real world.
Del Campo is upfront about accepting Thelema as a religion. As such he acknowledges that sectarianism is inevitable and indeed preferable to watering down the message in an attempt to make it palatable to all. He is very clear on acknowledging right thinking as preceding right action and takes a very definite stand on matters of charity, which he considers to be one and the same with magickal sacrifice. Incidentally, none of this is empty posturing; his US-based Order of Thelemic Knights is well-known for their charitable works in the wider community.
There is much to consider within these pages. It is truly refreshing to read a book that can ably compare the merits of Jeremy Bentham’ s philosophy of Utilitarianism with those of Crowley’s Thelema. Del Campo must be applauded for attempting to drag Thelema out of the occult ghetto in which it currently languishes by encouraging comparison with other areas of government, commerce, religion and philosophy. Even the passages critiquing modern society, while obviously coming from a North American angle, still hold enough relevance for the average Westerner to be worth taking seriously.
If I have one criticism it is that a good proofreading would have done this last section of the book a world of good. English is not Del Campo’s first language and while he is certainly no stranger to the greatest tongue on Earth, The Ethics of Thelema is littered with annoying typos that really should have been picked up on prior to publication. A minor gripe, but one that does rather undermine the otherwise authoritative tone of an extremely readable and informative book. Recommended.
Adrian Dobbie
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