The Fool - Chapter Ten ====================== I - I wake up feeling like I should be dead, but somehow am not. It takes me forever to actually get out of bed. Ten to nine. Shit. Late again. On the bus I try and remember what I am doing all this for, but cannot. Then again, I am unclear as to whether I would be able to remember my own name. I decide not to try the experiment. I get in, get coffee, and get typing. The morning passes in an empty haze. I zone out, but nothing happens. The numbers fly by, the two piles of papers I am working from diminish in size minutely. Around eleven o'clock, time seems to slow down dramatically. I feel my heart pounding in my chest and hear a door open across the corridor. Peter Chapman emerges and comes over to me. "Hi Adam," he says. "You can slow down a bit if you like. My printout says you've been going pretty fast today." I stop typing and boggle at him. "Slow down," I say. "Yes," he says. "We find the best rate is if you get through two sheets an hour. That's what you've been doing, mostly." "Ok," I nod. "But today you've been doing between three and four sheets an hour. That's too fast, we don't want that." "Right. Two sheets an hour." "Yes." "By the way," he says, "I've got this, which might interest you. Keep it safe." He places a folded up sheet of paper on the desk beside me. "Thanks Adam," he says, walking off. II -- I unfold the sheet of paper, and find it is a flyer for a Society of Mysteries study meeting, to be held this evening, entrance free but limited only to those who have received the Initiation of the Bull. Great. What I need is more coffee. I fold the paper back up and put it in my pocket. We don' neeed no steenking study meeeting, I think, and giggling, take the paper back out again. Why not. On impulse I ring Beth. She is, after all, the only other person I know to have received the Initiation of the Bull, so if she can't make it, I'll have to go by myself, which I have no intention of doing. "Hello?" says Beth. She sounds tired. "Good morning," I say. "Listen, what are you doing tonight?" "Why?" she says, slowly. "There's this study meeting thing, and I wondered..." "Oh," she says, cutting me off, "no, not tonight. I've got a showcase tonight. But if that's a Society of Mysteries study meeting, I think you should go." "You do?" "Yes." "By myself?" "Yes." "Oh. But I thought you thought it was a load of old bull." "It is. Some of it. Some of it isn't." "Oh." "You have to go and see for yourself." "Oh, alright, I'll go." "Good. Now, I've got to go, because I'm rehearsing this afternoon, so I'll speak to you later. Wish me luck for the showcase." "Good luck for the showcase. Erm, can't I come to the showcase? I'd rather do that." "I know. But you can't. I'm sorry. It's one of those weird ones I can't invite anyone to." "Oh." "Yeah. Anyway. So, must go. Speak to you later." "Bye," I say, as she hangs up. Showcase. III --- It still isn't lunchtime. I seem to be typing in a place where time has stopped. Maybe I am going too fast again. I slow down a little. This does not help. Lunchtime remains some distance away. I pull out the flyer again. "Society of Mysteries Study Group Mystery Hall, 91, Flowertree Lane, London N1 Entrance free to all members of Bull grade or higher. Suggested donation £5. This week: 6:45pm -- Opening of the Liberorium Sancti 7pm -- Fr. H. - The Four Initiations - Bull, Lion, Eagle, Human 8pm -- Sor. S. - Sphinx, Hermanubis and Typhon - The Trinity on the Rim 9pm -- Fr. T. - The Planets - Jupiter 10pm -- Closing of the Liberorium Sancti Please arrive no later than 6.45 for the opening ritual. Latecomers will not be admitted to the study sessions. Thankyou for your understanding in this matter. In Spiritus" In Spiritus? What does that mean? Do I really want to go to this? I think about it a while. If I'd just run across this flyer in the street or in a bookshop or something, I wouldn't dream of going. Then again, it's not the kind of flyer you would run across like that, especially with the weird door policy. But Beth thinks I should go. And I think I trust her. So I'll go. I fold the flyer again and put it carefully in my pocket, wishing I knew an invocation to make lunchtime come sooner. I start typing. Eventually lunchtime comes. IV -- I return from lunch feeling fat and full of grease, which I essentially am, wondering how it was that I had been looking forward to such a thing so much for so long. My desk feels like a cage, but I am a good prisoner, and I get some coffee, and settle myself back in my chair. The screenful of numbers glows softly at me. Only another three hours of this to go. I start typing, and zone out completely. Numbers whirr and flash past me. In Spiritus. In spirit. In spirit? If that was supposed to convey something to me, it has failed. Initials maybe? I.S. Is? An expression of the Universal Isness of Things? I don't know. I suppose I can ask, later. I keep typing. V - I leave on the nail at five o'clock, not wishing to be a latecomer, but the Tube is unaccountably fast, end I up arriving at Flowertree Lane far too early. There is no-one there. Mystery Hall turns out to be a doorway between two shops, painted with a zodiac design and the words 'Mystery Hall' above it. Below the zodiac is the legend 'S.o.M.', which makes me frown for a second, until I realise that it stands for 'Society of Mysteries,' and find myself smiling at the absurdity of being pleased to know this. Either way, there is no-one there yet, or they are at least not answering the door, and there is a pub over the road, so it is clear what I have to do. It occurs to me fleetingly that I perhaps ought not go into this study session with beer on my breath, but I have already ordered a pint and it is too late now. I light a cigarette and pull the flyer out again. Who or what are Hermanubis and Typhon? What do they have to do with the Sphinx? I sigh and sip my pint, wondering if I shouldn't maybe back out completely and go home, or to another pub, or something. I don't even know what the riddle of the Sphinx is, let alone how to answer it. Then again, maybe that's why I'm here. Or not. I don't know. I look at my watch. Better drink up, or I'll be a latecomer. VI -- I am back at the doorway at 6.40 sharp. This time, the door is open, and a staircase leads up. I go in and find myself in a small hallway hung with black drapes. I am feeling slightly dizzy and disoriented. A very pretty, very tall goth girl with very short hair, a very short skirt, and an alarming number of piercings is lounging in a chair by one of the doors, reading a book. "Hello," she says, looking up from the book. "Do you have your suggested donation?" "It's my first time," I say. "Oh," she says, looking disappointed. "Well, that's ok. Normally it's five pounds though." I nod, dumbly. "What is the Name of the Bull?" she asks. "I'm sorry?" "The Name of the Bull." She gives me a withering look. I am struck dumb again. "Look," she says, "Tonight's event is only open to people with the Bull grade, so if you can't tell me the Name of the Bull, I'm afraid I can't let you in." I have no idea what she is on about. "Taurus?" I say, guessing. "Ok," she says, looking back at her book. "You could have said that before, you know. Go on. Go on in." "Um, thanks," I say. She ignores me. I go on in. VII --- The room is lined with bookshelves, and most of the available space is taken up with a large round wooden table. There is one empty chair left at the table, directly in front of me, and I sit down, feeling like a naughty schoolboy late for class. No-one says a word. Three people in black cowls, two men and a woman, are sitting opposite me on the other side of the table, behind them is a flip-chart. Eight or nine other people are seated around the table, two or three of whom have notepads and pencils in front of them. It hadn't occurred to me that I might want to take notes, and my stomach lurches oddly. I am wishing I hadn't had that pint. Eventually, the three in cowls stand up. The woman and one of the men look oddly nervous and shy. "Good evening," says the more relaxed of the two men. "I am Frater Hermanubis, and these are my colleagues, Sorore S. and Frater T. They will introduce themselves to you later on. For now, please rise, and we will open the Liberorium Sancti." Everyone slowly shuffles to their feet. There is a great scraping of chairs. Frater Hermanubis coughs, and opens a large, black, heavy hard-back volume. VIII ---- "Great Spirit of the Holy Library, we bring you greeting and praise. We thank you for allowing us to enter your holy precincts. Whatever burdens we may be carrying from the outside world, we lay them down, now. Whatever worry or stress from our daily lives we may have, we have forgotten it now. We are not here to study for its own sake, but for a higher sake. We are not here to boost our petty egos, but to learn how best to do the will of our Creator. We understand that nothing we learn here can be used except for the Highest Good of all concerned, and we are aware of the terrible automatic penalties incurred by those that trangress thereof. Spiritus magnus liberorium sanctium, we will now bow our heads in meditation and be silent before you, readying ourselves to open our hearts and minds to new knowledge, just as you open have opened your doors to us." Everyone bows their heads, myself included. I am fleetingly worried that I will cough or disturb the silence in some way, but for no reason. A deep calm fills the room, and even the sound of people's quiet breathing seems to diminish. At length Frater Hermanubis says, "Be seated," and with another great scraping of chairs, we sit. IX -- "Ok," says Hermanubis, looking around the table, and smiling. "Alright. Some new faces, some old faces. That's good. That's very good." He coughs again. "Excuse me," he says. "I smoke too much. That's not so good." A low noise resembling a chuckle spreads around the table, but stops at me. "Well," says Hermanubis. "Now." "The Society of Mysteries, as some of you may know, is like a lot of organisations devoted to the study of occult science, in that it has a two-headed structure. There is an Inner and and Outer Circle, if you like, with several grades, or stages of admission in each one." All of you here have received at least the Bull level initiation in the Outer Circle of our Society. If you are new to us, you may not yet know that there are three other levels in our Outer Circle. Beyond the Bull, there is the Lion. Beyond the Lion, there is the Eagle. Beyond the Eagle, there is the Man." My talk today will give an overview of all four grades of our Outer Circle, how they are structured, and what they are for. Any questions, before I go on?" A man in a suit sitting some way around the table from me puts his hand up. "How many levels are there in the Inner Circle?" he asks. Hermanubis smiles at him. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that. Right now, I can't even tell you why I can't tell you that. I'm sorry. I should have been more specific. Does anyone have any questions on the Outer Circle before I go on?" There is a silence. "Ok." X - Hermanubis manages to fill the best part of the next hour talking about the symbolism of the Bull, the Lion, the Eagle and the Man, in a voice that resembles that of a robot the longer he goes on. He quotes Ezekiel 1:10, Revelations 4:7, James Joyce and Robert Anton Wilson. I find that while I am more or less able to follow him, I seem to be forgetting everything he is saying as he is saying it. At the end, he relates each of the four to the four elements in a way which makes me frown in astonishment. Hermanubis notices my puzzled look and asks me to explain. "How come the Eagle is assigned to Water rather than Air," I say. "I thought it was..." "Ah yes," he says. "These four symbols aren't just any old four things chosen at random. They are the Kerubim, the living powers of the Tetragrammaton. They operate through the Kerubic signs of the zodiac, which are Taurus the Bull, Leo the Lion, Scorpio for the Eagle, and Aquarius for the Man. Scorpio, historically, is sometimes represented by an eagle or a phoenix, but it's a water sign, whatever you call it. Similarly, Aquarius is an air sign. And that's that. There simply is no other way to attribute it. Does that answer your question?" "I suppose," I say, not sure. There are another couple of questions, neither of which I follow, and I am just beginning to doze off when the lecture ends. It turns out that the next two lectures are only for people with Lion grade or above, so I leave, somewhat gratefully, along with three or four other Bulls.