To the Stars around the Pole

It is with great sadness that I cannot be here with you tonight in flesh, but know that I am with you in spirit.

We have been gathered from the ends of the earth by the magnetic will of our patron, for he has glimpsed something in us of substance, the glimmer of a higher truth. All true movements, all true myths, begin with such a gathering. The Argonauts, the Apostles, the Arthurian Knights. A gathering of the flesh, and a gathering of the will. We must view ourselves and our actions through this inspired lens, not as figures of history but as figures of myth.

Our peculiar teleology is not to end life as great men, but to leave this earth transformed into symbols — symbols that inform and alter the currents of human thought as stones in a river bed. Is such an objective audacious and grandiose? No. It is pragmatic and somber. Caesar's ghost has inspired and shaped two Millennia of mankind, not because he defeated the Gauls or slew Pompey. No. Caesar's name is invoked because he is Caesar. And his countenance has crystalized into an emblem, a spectral hieroglyph, one which steers our world still. A group of great men can bend a decade to their will by modifying the material conditions of the moment. But a group of inspired men can mold the millennium through the alchemy of myth. Both are needed today.

Our methodology must be epiphanic. Our volition united. So wrote the Florentine Secretary: Mankind lives in the few.

In assembling here tonight in the flesh we have established a concrete orientation. An orientation in space and an orientation in time. A transhistorical pole, a fons et origo. Every movement, every sacral putsch has originated from atop such a virgin axis, established by men with a vision that cut through the mundane dross of the moment. From the Palatine hill to the black rock of Mecca.

And could we ask for better soil? Paris has long had an eschatology all her own. It is fortuitous, no, providential, that we establish our axis here, in the shadow of Napoleon and General De Gaulle.

I am not here tonight to offer a dry lecture on myth-building in theory and praxis, in fact I am not here tonight at all. Instead I am imparting seeds. Pollen. So they may take root within your souls and germinate in the direction of this new will. Just as our patron has gathered us here as luminous seeds in his secret garden. What fruit shall our season bring? Other foolish men have sown the winds, while we are the whirlwind they shall reap.

How many of us are there? How many have been united in this web? The outsiders will whisper and wonder.

Are there still secrets left in this world? Only those that hide in the open. And so we shall publish a testament to this meeting in order to veil it, to occlude our secret in the silk of the public eye, and let it ossify into flaming enigma.

For who can stand against us? No one. And you must cherish this sacred truth and bury it in the secret chambers of your heart. For we are the Faction of Truth. Faithful to an ideal wholly removed from the opaque vicissitudes of time. Far above the plastic sediment of history.

Pound tells us that “In history we find two forces: one that divides, severs and slays, and the other that contemplates the unity of the mystery. For there lurks a false power, a force that shatters every figurative symbol, and drags man into abstract discussion: thus destroying not one, but every religion. The images of the gods, or certain Byzantine mosaics, raise the soul into contemplation, conserving the tradition of the indivisible light.”

If you fear that my words are descending into the opacity of abstraction, that I am not conveying concrete truths capable of application, it is because you are missing the simplest truth of all. How do we forge myths? By gathering here we have already begun one. This is not pedagogy but proclamation. And yet it is both. This is what it means for our method to be epiphanic.

But I will discuss some theory with you tonight. It may sound paradoxical, but when dealing in the realm of applied mythology and occult networking, we must approach the subject as an objective science.

Every successful network of the sort I am outlining has been serrated in gradations or veils. There is a permanent ambiguity in regard to the extent of the chain. Each level or degree is privy to more information than its inferior. There is a nucleus, and then there are concentric circles radiating out. The furthest shells are the least informed. This was the model of the Carbonari, and why they were so capable of avoiding detection. Giusseppe Mazzini belonged to six grades and was convinced there were three more above him. But even he did not know. Within the nucleus itself, there should be ambiguity. Even today there are rumors and myths regarding the true leadership of Propaganda Due. There is talk of an inverted pyramid sitting atop of the P2 hierarchy, that Gelli was taking orders from more opaque masters. Others insist that Prime Minister Andreotti was the true head of the lodge. This is all well and good.

Every “networking” society is built through mimesis. We must analyze past models and extract the silver from the dross. For our purposes, I believe the inner core should be loosely modelled on Gelli’s lodge and the outer shells modelled on the operational structure of Carboneria. But we shall be better than both. For the men of the past lacked imagination.

Essentially, our organizational models should be quasi-masonic, drawing particular inspiration from a handful of para-masonic bodies throughout history. But there is a difference that must be taken into consideration. Due to the very nature of the 21st century, we have access to rapid transnational transportation and communication. This gives us a great advantage. Our network can remain boldly transnational. This also allows for great centralization of authority.

The individuals comprising the nucleus should be handpicked by our patron, as it already has come to pass. The next outer circle is where recruitment should focus on privileged members of society. Judges, lawyers, businessmen, financial execs, politicians, and clergy. Compartmentalization is key. Let everyone think they are higher than they are. But more detailed discussion of this can occur later. This is an outline. This is pollen.

There is no point to us meeting, no point to us speaking, no point to us breathing if our ambition is not greater than God’s. And we must dream ourselves up a body big enough to carry this ambition.

What is important is that across all levels of this hierarchical chain, of these concentric shells, meetings occur in the flesh. These gatherings are the glue in which our organs are bound. Without meetings and ritualized encounters, our words are but the vapor of Qoheleth. And these gatherings must be ritualized. We are creating bonds. Bonds between men, between ideas, between fantasms.

The techniques employed for our internal structuring are not substantially different from those employed in external structuring — in societal interventions. Both involve interventions in the Mundus imaginalis, the imaginal world. For theories on such interventions, we have the work of the Disgraced Dominican. He whose work surpasses even Machiavelli. It is through such a theoretical basis that we can become animarum Venator. We must learn to employ the vinculum vinculorum, Eros, Fantasy, and Faith. These are the tools from which we can forge myths.

But all this can be discussed later. Tonight we simply gather. Tonight we draw our pomerium.

You are only as serious as you take yourself. We are only as serious as our dreams.

We are angels in potentia, soon to be angels in actu.

And who is to say that we have not met before under similar circumstances throughout countless aeons, incarnating for a singular purpose, one that cuts through time as a diamond thunderbolt?

When Patton visited Langres for the first time he needed no guide, for he knew it well. It was his conviction, that in another life he had been a Roman legionnaire. And as he walked through the ruins of that Roman encampment, he pointed out the spots of the long gone temples and drill grounds, the amphitheater and the forum, before stopping to marvel at the place where Caesar once stood. And he told his nephew that he knew these things for it was as if a voice had whispered them in his ear. Who is to say that Patton has not taken flesh among us? And who is to say that Caesar is not here?

So as through a glass, and darkly
The age long strife I see
Where I fought in many guises,
Many names, but always me.

I speak not only to those gathered here but to posterity. Today we proclaim our qiyāma, from the walls of this Alamut.

Then the voice that had been raging
said fiercely but not unfriendly, paternal rather
as one in midst of battle guiding an inexperienced youth
“The will is old but the hand is new,
Listen to me before I turn back into the night
Where the skull sings:

The regiments and the banners will return.”

I would like to leave you tonight with a few words from Alamut.

Words introduced to me by our patron. Words we should live and die by.

“The paucity of the followers of truth and the great number and power of the followers of falsehood are both [applicable] to an early stage where they have just begun to be manifest. The followers of truth are weak at the beginning but strong in the end, like the dawn whose light gradually increases until the Sun rises and the world is illumined. But the followers of falsehood are strong at the beginning and weak in the end. Is it not the case that at the beginning they are completely dominant and overwhelming in their strength, but that in the end they are annihilated and vanquished into nothingness? [It is] like the shadows and darkness of the night, which at first seem completely dominant and overwhelming, but as the night passes and dawn approaches, they vanish, so that by the end of the night, as dawn appears, nothing is left of the shadows and darkness of the night. Godspeed to you.”

—From Your brother in truth, Everso Anguillara