The Nacreous Oughts

10 March 2020


The beginning of The Christiad.

"In the shell of the catcher's mitt, demonmask of his tantric form, the Qlipoth wait." --Robert Kelly, "An Alchemical Journal"

Felix Culpa.

"If there were no other end of life than to find some adequate solace for every day, I know not whether any condition could be preferred to that of the man who involves himself in his own thoughts, and never suffers experience to show him the vanity of speculation; for no sooner are notions reduced to practice than tranquillity and confidence forsake the breast; every day brings its task, and often without bringing abilities to perform it: difficulties embarrass, uncertainty perplexes, opposition retards, censure exasperates, or neglect depresses. We proceed, because we have begun; we complete our design, that the labour already spent may not be in vain; but as expectation gradually dies away, the gay smile of alacrity disappears, we are compelled to implore severer powers, and trust the event to patience and constancy." --The Rambler, No. 207

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