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Aleister Crowley Diary Entry Saturday, 5 June 1920
The Dawn Meditation.
In the absence of an available flapper, I note that we all, from Herbert Spencer down, seem to think of order as increase in complexity. But the contrary is the case. Thus, a heap of chessmen is unintelligible, while if they are set up in order a glance is sufficient to apprehend them.
There is however no such thing as order or disorder. Order only means a congruity between some arrangement of things with my mind structure. We say 'God geometrizes'; but his work is far from obvious in Nature. It is we who geometrize, and then pick out the few geometrical facts and emphasize them. Thus we say that a mountain mass is 'really' ( !) most carefully structuralized; but on the other hand to another mind the pure geometrical design appears a 'muddle'. Why do we pay great reverence to the first type of mind? Because we attribute to it 'knowledge' and think knowledge a key to power. But is it? Science occasionally bosses the world for a few moments, but it is soon wiped out. In the long run what we call stupidity wins, and I am proud to be an Englishman.
Well, that's a digression, though a nobly patriotic one. The point is that we must not confuse simplicity with homogeneity. A Benzine ring is more truly simple than its component atoms would be if merely mixed. Can we extend this reasoning and argue that the more atoms are structuralized, the nearer we come to simplicity? 'The more complex, the simpler!' Thus protoplasm would approximate to the really simple thing, 'soul'. Love, then, by uniting monads, is moving towards simplicity. The final act of love would then be to make the Universe a single structure, hugely complex, and so infinitely simple, being able to act as a unit. In this the positive and negative elements would be equal, and it would thus disrupt immediately on its formation ready to begin the process all over again.
However, the point is the 'Evolution' is a manifestation of 'Love', and tends to simplicity, or 'Attainment'. As I sang long since
Only Nothing is, and Nothing is an Universe of Bliss.
9.50 p.m. The day has been rather pointless. I tried to paint, spoilt my Blue Grotto, and did a Dance like a Comic Valentine, which however yielded to a rag and some turpentine, so that I have lost perhaps a day, but at least not a canvas!
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