Posted: March 26th, 2023 | Author: | Filed under: Fenrir, News, Order of Nine Angles | Tags: , , , , , , | Comments Off on Conspectus


By Nameless Therein

Reposted from Lux Lycaonis

– Eugène Delacroix, “Mortally Wounded Brigand Quenches His Thirst,” ca. 1825

A blind man with his knife in hand
Has convinced himself that he understands
I wish him well, Miss Carousel
But I gotta be a-goin’

– Townes Van Zandt, “Fare Thee Well, Miss Carousel”

Good morning everyone.

As the forgiveness of another fallow year tides the earth with breath and hope, I stand here, once again, to offer some parting words.

Bukowski once said it’s not the large things that send a man to the madhouse, but a continuing series of small tragedies. That is true. But just as soft failures are hard lessons, so too do the large tragedies sweep us off our feet – in humility and golden abdication.

Tragedy has a way of framing things, of putting things into perspective. Two recent tragedies in my life helped accomplish that aim. What is the frame and what are we looking at, you ask? The frame is cruelty, churlish infighting, one misstep and misdeed after another; senseless squabbling, real-world violence, a lack of concern for one’s fellow man; the frame is closeted hatred, resentment, and arrogance, a longing to be recognized with none of the required talent; resistance, stupidity, brutality, racism, antisemitism; a lack of judgment, foresight, ability, education, culture, and manners, guided by years of miscalculated action; most of all the frame is ugly, callous, and closer to a social cancer than a disease – rotten, aniconic, baleful, and noxious, surrounded by a gaggle of grown adults who can barely master their own bathroom, let alone the universe.

And what is being framed? What are we looking at? We are looking at the o9a.

We’ve all been told that all this gold is worth so much that it can’t be sold; but it can. And I’m here to say that I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of the unkindness, the lack of support and encouragement for one another, the petty obstinacy, the prejudice, the meaningless competition and vying for power. And for what? To be lumped in with a roving mob of blindfolded criminals, garroting and patrooning their way to a series of meaningless ends at the expense of real-world lives, hearts, and homes? No. It’s not a disgrace. It’s a defeat, cold and neverending.

I didn’t get into this to harm other people or sanction activities, principles, and amoral behaviors that go against my core values and upbringing. I was raised to help others, to inspire, to help bring out the best in one another, to educate, to forgive, and most of all to spread love through simple acts of kindness. I have always tried to bring that into the o9a – my passion for learning, for wisdom, for truth, my drive toward excellence, my desire to help others reach their highest potential. I found these values to be consistent with the highest zenith of Satanism and the cathartic overcoming of the tragedy it sets in motion across our lives, just as I did in those whom I view to have exceeded its limitations. I still hold this to be true. O felix culpa.

I haven’t found that in the o9a. Through a series of difficult lessons, I’ve slowly come to realize that the beauty, value, and deep interior majesty of this tradition isn’t a tradition at all, but my own spirit, laid bare across my life. Failing to separate the most profound and traumatic experiences of my life – experiences which, in relation to the o9a, almost cost me my life on several occasions and ended the lives of several loved ones – from what the o9a actually is, where it comes from, and where it’s likely heading, I have up to this point made the mistake of investing my heart, mind, and soul into something that is not equipped to receive or sustain them.

I do not belong here. The reality of the situation is that there are good people in the o9a: people who have shown me kindness and understanding, who have heard the truth of my story, identified with it, seen its cruel and fallible destination as something noble and absolute. I have seen the same in them, in their stories, in the life lessons they have shared with me, and in their unconditional generosity. There are people here I love as my own. For many years, I admired and was favorably influenced by some of the writings of figures like Myatt, Long, et al. But there are points of major disagreement in others that I can’t in good faith abide by (National Socialism being a big one, which I’ve adamantly declared I do not support or agree with – and I mean that). I can’t continue this legacy; it’s time to start my own.

So what is the price of this gold that can’t be sold? A sword, a wish, a hope, a word: conspectus. It’s time for me to leave the nest. I’ve realized that the Seven Oxonions were right: I have everything I need to direct the cataract of my life into my own system, my own philosophy, my own canvas of originary creation, and I always have. I’ve been building it all along. The pain of the past does not need to be a monument to the future anymore than the o9a ever needed to be its epitaph.

We hear the word “honor” a lot in the o9a. Indeed, the bonds of loyalty that bind self-integrity to one’s word are a keystone of decorum and civility. But I think something equally important is overlooked here: responsibility. Whether we like it or not, the things we say and do have consequences in the real world. I can’t stand idly by and watch others draw inspiration from my work to justify harm, prejudice, racism, or ill-will toward other people. I never intended that, and I won’t contribute to it. I don’t know how anyone can do so in good conscience.

That’s it. I’ve said what I needed to say. What’s left now? Who knows – but to contradict what I said previously, I think the Seven Oxonions may be right: that the o9a should be abandoned; that “its moral defects render it unsuitable as a modern practical guide to Lapis Philosophicus.” While I still see value in certain formal elements of its magickal system, which I may continue to develop in my own way (esoteric chant, for instance), I find myself in agreement with this sentiment.

If anyone wants to follow my progress, you can find me at Lux Lycaonis. From here on out, I am abandoning Fenrir: Journal of Satanism and the Sinister and will slowly be rebranding the site to reflect that. From now on Lux Lycaonis will simply be Lux Lycaonis, an outlet for the philosophical, cultural, artistic, intellectual, musical, and magickal things I find valuable, in addition to those of my team.

– The Order of Nine Angels

Nameless Therein
March 26, 2023