|
Aleister Crowley Diary Entry Rex de Arte Regia Wednesday, 9 June 1915
Opus[1] LXIV
1.54 p.m. Hot day. Dim daylight.
'Mamie', pretty young slender rather dark mulatto. Lowest prostitute type but nice-mannered and honest.
Object: Success tonight, i.e. in making a good impression on Mrs Finch & Co.
The Operation was abominably bad. Non detegitur Yod,[2] as Rabbi Schimeon[3] would say. The Elixir was not formed at all, but was highly aromatic. There was no real mental concentration and hardly any orgasm. A pitiable affair. I don't know whether to blame the heat or the long abstinence or the character of Operations LVIII and its congeries.[4]
Result: The whole arrangement fell through.
This is a clear case of doing the thing so badly that one breaks down even the first force.
LVIII [Mr. Finch] had been an absolute slave, and the gut went!!
1—[Crowley performs a magical sexual operation.] 2—['This essence is not being disclosed now.'] 3—[Rabbi Schimeon ben Yochai, the author of the source book on the Cabbala.] 4—[I.e. the XI° or homosexual workings.]
|