Invocation, Evocation, & the Alphabet of Desire

By Shade Oroboros
 

Glendower:   "I can call spirits from the vasty deep."
Hotspur:   "Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?"
- Henry IV, part 2, William Shakespeare

“Invoke often!  Inflame thyself with prayer!”
- Aleister Crowley
 
 Magick may or may not assume the existence of actual entities external to the psyche of the practitioner: gods, angels, demons, spirits of every kind populate the cosmic landscape. Whether they possess an objective reality is a question more loaded than the average cheap illegal handgun, touching upon the fundamental questions of the nature of reality and its interface with the individual mentality. How many pinheads can dance on an angel? If we see our various familiars as autonomous complexes constructed by our own desires, are they easier to control than more hypothetical elementals from beyond the fields we know? Or is one of the most essential components of this mysterious art the very possibility of contact with something beyond our limited experience? Adepts throughout history have sought communion with something higher or lower than themselves, demonic or divine as the case may be. Oracles have spoken for the gods, mediums for the dead, and channelers for the crystal-humping UFO dolphins from Atlantis. Shamans have no doubt that strange spirits lurk in the forest, while psychologists try to look wise while talking about the mechanism of projection. Crowley centered much of his life's quest upon the search for authentic inner plane contacts, and Mathers and Blavatsky largely based their authority upon the so-called Secret Chiefs or Ascended Masters. Clearly, something is up. The tendency to psychologize magick, to reduce all experience into a purely internal process, is a comparatively recent and often rather silly innovation.
 Invocation is said to involve summoning something from above or outside oneself, and evocation calls up powers from below or within; practically speaking the distinction may often be arbitrary other than in terms of dramatic effect.
 Medieval ceremonial magick tends toward an elaborate hierarchy: call upon God to tell an archangel to instruct an angel to dispatch a spirit to request the Devil to command his infernal court to send a demon to do your will. Occam's Razor again intervenes: "Entities should not be multiplied unnecessarily". The simplest solution that covers all known facts is best. Systems which function upon the purely expressed will of the sorcerer might still employ familiar spirits without going through this qabalistic equivalent of the choose-your-function-and-press-seven answering-machine maze. The powers of the four elements are the usual attendants of the magus, and a corresponding entourage of about four is probably about the maximum useful number anyway. The contemporary magi of Chaos magick have devoted some thought to the creation of servitors on the computer-program format, wherein they can incorporate whatever qualities they wish, although a careful formulation of the roles and proper functions of such a manufactured egregore or homunculus is advisable.  They are designed by means of appropriate qabalistic or symbolic correspondences for a very specific purpose, such as healing or the protection of a home. The power of names as formulas is essential here; for example, a true name which expresses a being’s nature can be formed by selecting letters via the Qabala or Tarot, using such imagery as may be appropriate to formulate an astral mechanism with a limited yet focused consciousness split off from your own. One of the advantages of empowering an individual entity is that they can carry out an independent mission with initiative and unflagging concentration. There are many demonic familiars to be drawn from the endless lists given in the goetic grimoires of medieval times, and such traditional sources may prove useful if you should see a name that resonates for you. From Spare's point of view, such things are often atavisms of animal or other prehuman levels of evolution, and from the totems and spirit helpers of shamanism arise the bizarre mutant life forms of contemporary media. The denizens of the otherworld may be discovered in cultural sources from the antique world, or contacted at random by attraction of the spirits of a particular landscape: the Genius Loci or spirit of a place, called Kami in Japanese, or Landsvettir in Norse.
 Magical groups and orders can cultivate a shared totem or patron as a source of energy and method of communication and shared symbolism. The Fraternitas Saturni utilized such an egregore or deliberately created spirit guide called GOTOS, and many Asian schools are founded by gurus whose images are preserved and influences felt long after their apparent deaths. One of the advantages of group working lies in the shared focus of multiple wills, a process that requires a clearly defined target of intention.
 Whole classes of beings present unique possibilities: angels and demons, the group-souls of minerals or power-plants or animal species, the natural spirits of particular places, the collective consciousness of national entities (Uncle Sam? the goddess Britannia?) or traditional folk sprites, brownies, elves or faeries, djinn, kami, stellar or planetary forces, the personifications of governments or corporate entities, the mascots of sports teams, cartoon characters out of the Disney empire or role-playing games or comix; all kinds of thingies are active in the modern collective unconscious. Some folks have even activated plastic action figures as guardians or servitors. That must be true, I read it on the Internet.
 The distinction between angels and demons is rather moralistic, but such a rigid division between good and evil may reflect the fact that spirits are usually not considered as complete a universe or entity as we superhuman beings are. Many are in fact considered somewhat troublesome: astral larvae, confused remnants of the recently departed, poltergeists or noisy ghosts, unconscious complexes within the psyche acting out their old traumas. This is a good motive for preliminary banishings, clearings or centering in ceremonial work. In more psychological terms we might think of angels as the higher functions of the mind, and demons as the lower; a rather gravity-bound and hierarchical way of viewing things. However, by naming and focusing such internal energies, we may attain control over them, activating contact with planetary forces or our own holy guardian spirits, for example.
 Demons, on the other hand, can also be personifications of unconscious crises, of sickness or disease, addictions or compulsions, or any dysfunctional habits and patterns; brought to light and resolved, they can then perhaps be exorcised. If in the exploration of the self one runs into extremely nasty unresolved issues, psychotherapy really can provide help for some. One of the greatest dangers in magick is that of obsession, and it hardly matters whether it is an internal process or an external entity. It would, however, be unwise to completely discount the existence of wicked astral predators or psychic attacks. There are perhaps real issues behind the millennia-old practices of making the circle of protection into a fortified citadel rather than merely a lens of focus. Even if we learn nothing else from Star Trek, we should remember the utility of keeping the shields up at all times, and even the modernized Church of Rome does still authorize the occasional authentic exorcism. If demons are as real as any other concept, prepare to deal with them from a position of strength. One may note that they sometimes seem to emerge from the insect level of evolution, and that their distinctive sounds seem to include the buzzing and drones of nocturnal insects. Some folks dive into the Lovecraftian Cthulhu Mythos, which I personally am quite happy to enjoy as fiction. Angel, demon, or atavism, dark, bright, or in-between: such entities can make possible the activation and use of exceptional powers of any type required to work the will of the magus.
 Lastly is the question of necromancy or spiritualism, the conjuration of the dead, which might in a very technical sense be called black magick. I have some reservations about this; what you get may be merely a traumatized remnant of someone who knows no more than they did in life, and is no more honest. It is always important to let the dead depart, lest we find ourselves locked into the past. However, sincere work with the dead raises all kinds of romantic and goetic possibilities, if one desires to go completely gothic and spend some time in the graveyard which is the usual haunt of sorcerers; and in a sense one should also respect one’s ancestors, who in societies less rootless than our own watch over family members and aid them. We will leave aside such excesses as the raising of actual zombies, as the common or garden variety of revenant can be sufficiently disconcerting. Meditation on the condition of death also has a powerful effect on the mind, breaking down the preconceptions and structures of mundane identity, as in Tibetan tantrik Chod rituals.

 How does one conjure such entities? Talismans, statues, sigils or paintings of the spirit can provide a focus. Traditionally the magus stands within a magical circle and imprisons the entity within a triangle of manifestation drawn outside it; this may or more usually may not appear as a 3-D hologram like it does in the movies. Incense smoke often provides the vehicle for such forms, and burning the herb called Dittany of Crete is regarded as a powerful agent of materialization. In general, incenses seen as invoking are frankincense and other sweet scents, often combined with assorted herbs and resins ascribed to the various planets or spheres. Those that banish include harsh-smelling, acrid or fetid substances such as asafetida or brimstone; and the sage used for smudging by many Native American tribes is always very effective for the cleansing and purifying of a space. Alternatively there may be a sense of a presence or a tingling sensation, or even mild poltergeist phenomena. Always bear in mind that you as the Magus are absolutely in command of all such spirits.
 Perhaps the single most effective method of contact involves the practice of crystal gazing within the circle or scrying in a magical mirror placed in the triangle. The use of a bowl of pure water with oil or ink or a bit of blood added is an ancient method, as is using a deeply entranced seer or medium to describe the events to the invoking magus; young children or virgin maidens were often employed for this purpose in the classical period. Carroll 'Poke' Runyon of the Ordo Templi Astartes has done much to rediscover these Solomonic techniques; after noticing that recent works on magick recommended only the often inefficient use of incense smoke for attempts to visibly materialize entities, he argued that genuine sorcerers had utilized this technique of scrying, and that the secret became confused and lost over time. Specifically he recommends the use of the black mirror (familiar to readers of Franz Bardon) flanked by candles and reflecting the face of the medium as most effective when set in the Triangle for all demonic evocations; this is paralleled by the use of the crystal within the circle for angelic invocations. Donald Tyson's Scrying for Beginners also covers the long history of this practice.
 The opening Statement of Intent is a most excellent prelude to any operative working, serving to clearly focus the will; and the classic License to Depart before banishing is a courteous yet wise move as well. It certainly can't hurt to have a clear and coherent framework for ritual practices, or to eliminate any unnecessary or contradictory elements. Clarity is good and confusion is bad: fuzzy thinking, fuzzy results. Every now and then I have met some amateur who did an invocation, séance or bloodletting "just to see if anything would happen"; and frequently something rather unpleasant did. Quite frankly, I often shudder at this particular approach; but I suppose that Mother Nature must thin the herd somehow, and human stupidity seems as useful a weeding-out process as any. It certainly seems to work in many other arenas besides magick. Many tombstones would be more honest if their inscriptions simply read "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
 There are other methods for the care and feeding of spirits that are also traditional; often a carved image such as a fetish, idol, or head serves as a home or physical basis for an entity. Vessels such as bowls or jars, eggs or bottles, even amulets or jewelry are useful; often a doll form similar to human shape is made, as in the northern custom of carving a mandrake root into the form of a manikin or alraun as a household servitor or guardian. Lastly there are spirit traps such as mazes and labyrinths, or net-like devices like Native American dream-catchers that ensnare and entangle them; and ultimately the quartz crystal, long used by shamans to ensnare demons of illness or madness or menace.
 The practical outlines of ritual are covered elsewhere; suffice it to say that one gathers the instruments of the Art, and then prepares the sacred space by designing an environment symbolically appropriate to the spirit by using the correspondences in 777. One then invokes with all the emotion and poetry one can summon up, stimulating all the senses and utilizing the methods of magical empowerment to create a sphere where no result but success is possible.
 
 Pantheons of gods are especially rich sources for devotional and artistic as well as more directed operative activities. On many high and holy mountains the companies of the gods still dwell: on the Greek Olympus and the Norse Asgardh, the Hindu Mount Meru and the Shinto Mount Fuji, the glass castles of the ancient Celts and the primal mound which rose from the dark oceans of night when the Neters of ancient Egypt formed creation, on every continent of the world the deities of the people still await their calling. Such pantheons often reflect the gestalts of ancient planetary or qabalistic spheres, the dance of the archetypes; these divine complexes of ideas such as love or war, wisdom or mercy, the moon or the sun, resonate deeply in the human mind. Study of the many names and aspects possessed by some of the more complex gods open gateways to union. Personally, I have never much trifled with the more involved types of goetic conjuration of personified spirits. I tend to rely upon the more undifferentiated legions of natural elementals from the realms of fire, water, earth, and air; upon the link with my holy guardian spirit; upon the patron entities such as Aiwaz or n’Aton that inspire and empower wider magical currents; and ultimately upon the gods themselves, who embody the full spectrum of forces in the universe.
 For workings of results-oriented magick I tend toward emotions channeled through sigils, or upon simple old-fashioned methods such as the charging and burning of colored candles over a period of nights, carved with runes and signs and anointed with appropriate oils; or the binding of chants into the knots of colored cords. I like the making of talismans charged with planetary forces, to serve such purposes as healing or protection, increase in wisdom or the finding of unusual books; often I find that magick works better by creating a general atmosphere of attraction for a certain goal, rather than by too-complex specifics that bog down in details. If one desires a lover, for example, one should not limit expectations. Visualization is very useful, however: create an empty space and fill it with the image of fulfillment. Aids to this are the age-old tricks of the trade, like image magick: a voodoo doll stuck with pins is a great focus for malice; similar images might be filled with herbs for healing; and a picture lavished with sweet herbs and perfumed oils and inscriptions of caring can open a channel for better purposes. Desires should be deep and organic, and not mediated by excessive brooding or overblown intellectualizations.

"Emotion is the quickest, most immediate form of power there is. Be it love, anger, fear, whatever, it produces instant power, instant capability. Knowledge also produces such power, but learning is a much more tedious process, and, if the time can be afforded, it is the preferred source. Power that stems from knowledge is much more controlled and directed."
- Mage, by Matt Wagner

 Spare made the Alphabet of Desire one of the keys to his sorcery, and Carroll devised a whole vocabulary of emotional states in his Liber Null. Briefly, he defines emotions as pairs of opposites: love/hate, joy/sorrow, anger/forgiveness, fear/desire, lust/disgust, and so on; sex and death are the most primal duality, the instincts of life and its opposite pole. He recommends laughter for effective banishing. Carroll also suggests a purely biological pairing of pain & pleasure with fire & water, and elation & depression with air & earth. Whichever mood serves to empower your art or suit your purpose can be chosen and activated by the vivid associations of memory and color, a correctly devised environment, and a personal vocabulary of symbols and actions.
 As for pouring raw energy into an encoded sigil, does it matter which emotions you employ as long as they are intense as possible? In terms of using free belief to get results, lust, anger and fear may be the simplest to create at short notice: we can all get horny with just a little fantasy and self-stimulation; we can all get very seriously pissed off (see red) at something in life, and it can be quite easy to work oneself up into a seething rage; and a good reason for doing sorcery at midnight in a cemetery is that fear paralyzes many of the rational functions of the mind. As Mark Twain once said, "The knowledge that one is to be shot at dawn concentrates the mind wonderfully"; the instinctive fear of darkness and death really gets the juices jangling. Looking at the ludicrous success of the Blair Witch Project, it would appear that we have become so urban and civilized that even the mere illusion of being lost in the woods at night terrifies the crap out of many of us. The new-age white-light brigade might insist that these are the kinds of 'negative emotions' that people should never be allowed to feel, which says a great deal about the dangerously artificial and controlling nature of the new age movement. Jung, however, speaks of embracing the shadow, which is the portion of the psyche where such emotions and memories are stored; and an enormous amount of power is locked up in that darkness, waiting to be used.  Communion with one’s own physical shadow and using it to cast waves of power may have fascinating results.
 I tend to emphasize emotional charges and associative resonance over the more intellectually contrived complexities of the G.D. tradition; the more you inflate your consciousness by inflaming your passions, the more primal libido or instinctive forces you engage. Two of the most powerful channels for such simulations of stimulation are also among the most physical: sight and sound. They may also be the most ancient, for the associations of color are perhaps even pre-verbal, and the power of music and subtle effects of rhythm serve to create an environment that carries us far beyond our normal states.

 In the triggering of magical energies within the temple we have certain modern advantages in the creation of an atmosphere. Ideally, music may be performed live in rituals to great effect; consider the thundering power of the drums in many tribal rites. Recorded music can be selected to provide an overall esoteric ambiance, and can also be used to time a specific series of emotional cues to accompany various stages of the process and the aspects of your activities; sound technology enables total control over the energy and emotive levels of the auditory environment. A working group can use certain pieces to build up associations for regular practices, triggers for altered states of being. In Wicca a piece of music that slowly builds up to an explosive climax may be used in circle-dances to raise and release the 'cone of power'. We used to use Carl Orff’s Carmena Burana at one point in my coven career, and it still pumps up my adrenaline level. Gustav Holst’s The Planets is useful in astrological rites. While one perhaps shudders to recommend techno/rave or New Age music, much of it is quite atmospheric and effective, especially since it has begun to incorporate the World Beat influence.
 Quite some time ago it occurred to me that musical instruments might easily be classified according to the five elements. According to the Encyclopedia Britannica, there are four main categories: “…percussion instruments are divided into (I) idiophones, in which sound is produced from hard substances not previously stretched in any way (bells, cymbals, xylophones, etc.); and (II) membranophones, producing sound from a stretched skin (drums). Stringed instruments are termed (III) chordophones. Wind instruments come under (IV) aerophones….” Let us see where this takes us.
 Air: obviously this would be aerophones, Pan’s pipes or Krishna’s flute.
 Water: here I place membranophones, for a few reasons including the fluid flexibility of their surfaces, the essential rhythm suggestive of the beating heart that circulates our liquid blood, and the ceaseless waves and tides of the ocean. There are also the associations with tribal and shamanic cultures. Voudon is inseparable from the powerful voice of the drums.
 Fire: chordophones with their scales from high to low remind me of the spectrum of color. We might also consider the electric guitar as the defining sound of the fiery Age of Horus, whose theme music to date would have to be rock & roll.
 Earth: idiophones qualify by their fundamental hardness, and the frequent association of bells with Maat as the very essence of Matter.
 Spirit: the Encyclopedia Britannica also suggests a new category: “(V) electrophones… include instruments in which sound is produced electronically.”  The development of such devices has completely transformed modern music. In a concluding observation it is remarked that “many primitive instruments show magical connotations, by which the sounds produced from natural substances by the hand or breath of man are used for communication with the spirit world in rites of every kind.” Ritual, of course, is very much like a dance.
 Music has been the subject of esoteric discourse from the Hindu Vedas to the Greek philosophers to the renaissance hermeticists to the new agers, and a piece of music is an emotive code similar to an enchantment. Rhythm, mood, and tone can work upon our feelings in very subtle or remarkably extreme ways. In thelemic terms a living musical performance may be experienced as an aethyr for the mage to explore. The melodic interplay of subject (Hadit, the listener) with object (Nuit, the music) produces a magical child (Horus, the experience) in time (Maat). The universe itself is merely energy at various levels of vibration, the music of the spheres. In another sense, Nuit is the surrounding silence, and each individual note is a point of Hadit, linked in a constellation of stars. The higher and lower vibrations emitted are the twins Horus and Harpocrates, and the overall order of harmony is Maat.

“All art constantly aspires towards the condition of music.” - Walter Pater
 

 (Like the article on Color in our first issue, the above is an extract from my Infamous Interminable Manuscript, which is currently titled Future Magick and searching for a publisher.)