“Out here in the perimeter there are no stars
Out here we is stoned
Make it squeal like a pig!
I’m feeling sadistic, so let’s torture a metaphor. “We be linguistic pirates, mate! Prepare to be boarded!”
Back when the solar system was beginning to stabilize and the earth was cooling and beginning to form a crust — i.e. back before the magical blogosphere had the juice sucked out of it by Faceblark — I sent a signal from deep space that managed to register on Gordon White’s radar screen.
You see, I live in the vast darkness out beyond the recently demoted dwarf planet Pluto on that huge cold gaseous giant they’ve just started to report on in the press this week (otherwise known as Central Europe). Gorden lives at the center of the solar system on a zippy little planet owned by a queen that sends ripples in the gravity field all the way out to where I am. I’ve been a devoted fan of his blog ever since I discovered it six years ago. I can think of only one other magic blogger whose skills at crafting prose come close to Gordon’s (You know who you are, charmer!). But for some time I could only love him from afar.
Slaughtering black swans
Until one day I really got his attention by writing a posting that mercilessly lampooned his internet persona. It was a hit among bloggers, and we’ve had a virtual friendship ever since.
For years I’ve threatened to visit him in London, and he’s threatened to blow my mind on awesome British Museum exhibitions. But, alas, what with work and family and projects, it can be hard for me to get away from Budapest at times.
But then he had to go and publish a book with one of the most respected occult publishers. What’s more, he had to arrange that it be launched at “London’s oldest independent occult bookshop“, and taunt me (taunt me!) with the illustrious guest list.
Get the space ship ready, Jeeves!
Fuck! I have no choice. Time to suit up, climb into my interplanetary vessel and go join Gordon at the bright center of The System.
So, on February 13 I’ll be sipping cocktails specially formulated by a mix-master for this occasion. Gordon! What a guy! Wonder what he’ll call them? Alien Absinthe? Tequila Starshine? Nephilim Nukes?
And at some point I’ll make a pilgrimage to the the Royal College of Physicians to see the new exhibition based around John Dee’s personal library. Which is only fitting, since I have spent some transformative time in Prague around another mage who used to live at Kelley’s Tower. Sitting on the steps of that tower, he once said to me, “Every Rosicrucian of the late Renaissance walked up and down these steps to Kelley’s laboratory”.
Wouldn’t you know, Gordon was given a preview of the exhibition, and he’s made an excellent video about it. I can’t wait!
And in case you aren’t baby boomer enough to know the Doors song and Morrison poem, here you are.