Aleister Crowley Diary Entry

Monday, 10 March 1924

7. A.M. Woke 6.5 from a dream that I had been beheaded, I remember none such in my life though they were common with Iehi Aour [Allan Bennett]. Can it be a presage of an attack of spasmodic asthma?

Empiricism. One can only put down one's experiments, choosing which pairs of facts to equate on some unconscious hypothesis—with all sorts of suppressed premises. One is naturally thought a quack, right or wrong, for not having "proof". Yet this is the only way to get such research done, to break new ground. Ordinary discoveries, proved as soon as made, are branches of one bough of The Tree of Knowledge. The Magus, the Poet, and their like perch on untouched boughs.

7.5. The main Ethics of the Book of the Law. Man is asked to act as if it were true that he is a spark of that great light of God. Those who insist on making that assumption, on basing all their lives on it, are the Thelemites. The most important piece of  (synthesis / analysis) I have done for a long while.

7.25. No better example of rotten thinking than the idea that war can be made impossible by making it "too horrible".

7.30 I suppose that what I am really doing is trying to found a new Order of Monks (oh yes! see AL, all over). The lack of the world to-day is bodies of men who have renounced it. But we must have modern principles. They must be useful all round—for their superior learning, etc., even as with all monks, and they must be trained by such means that they can be trusted (I see the use of the Mark of the Beast in this Order. It is a mark of distinction—and disgraceful to bear unless one be a first-rate man.) I see also the technique of the "miracle" of the Stele. The adoration of the faithful will send forth rays to it. It would finally become luminous. When it did begin to go—probably through rotting of the wood—it would be a sign that the next Aeon was at hand.

8.15 The papers keep on printing paragraphs that A, B, and C began life as office boys. This explains all: the world is being run by office boys.

11.0 A.M. Woke from a "privation-dream" of extraordinary vividness and elaboration, sleep, semi-sleep, an full waking states folding over and over each other in the most astounding way. Note. I had gone to sleep on the thought "Shall I take a dose? [of Heroin]" answered "No". The dream scared me not a little, and I hastily "indulged". I should rather have tested the Gardenal^[1] reaction: but I was taken off my guard. Incidentally, my mother was alive in the dream, and responsible for the torture. My new grey suit was a feature—I was feeling better, left here, and walked out in it. To Croydon! Came back here, realized it was a dream, and that its vividness demanded a dose of aq[uarius] [Heroin]. Not being awake enough to do this, imagined a deliberate privation with endless details—position of things in my room changed while I slept etc. the ideas of this expandingly constantly. It led up to a climax where my mother confessed to having destroyed my solution, and I dramatically cast he off (The question as to whether the house belonged to her or to me was a minor point as to the leave-taking. Part of this dream was that the furniture of my room had been moved in my absence so that I could not get to my solution. I find this (Tuesday) A.M. that the furniture actually was moved during my sleep: a piece taken out of the room. The racket doubtless caused much of the whole phantasmagoria.

11.40. "Freudian forgetfulness". Couldn't find tampon in my nose: supposed it must have been lost. Finally, and very painfully, remembered that I had discarded it.

12.40. What is there about the idea of a bird that is thin? (best word I can find).

12.45 An old man singing in the court! It's spring. And I haven' a coin to throw him! Oh how I hate organized charity—or any public service dealing with the sanctities of life. There may be bad and good masters; but committees and officials must be necessarily inhuman—for the simple reason that the very object of their rules is to suppress humanity i.e. all individuality. No rules can be good because they are inflexible, and life is elastic. Hence all the Masters break all the rules; and of course they must know them well in order to break them effectively. (This does not apply to natural laws like those of rhythm, but to pedantic bonds like rules of composition. This explains the whole folly of Cubism etc.)

4.40 Have slept a lot again, and had bad dreams. Mental over-excitement.

5.40 Bernard Harrison has called, very kindly. I report his story of Hospital. There was a phonograph. It played (usually the same time) 50 or 60 times a morning. He did not fully appreciate the pleasure himself, and the man in the next bed wept openly all the time. He pointed this out to the nurse, who simply replied "The others like it: I can't help him". That is a war: that is democracy. ALSO. If I, who can't stand a band in a restaurant, ever get into a place like that, it's good-night to my mind for ever!

9.20. I laugh again—after shaving! I sent to renew a cognac prescription—simply the bottle which had a label with a number. It was the wrong number—that of a Heroin prescription. And they sent it round without a word—without even asking to see the original prescription! ! ! ! !  P.S. And yet again I laugh! On sending the other bottle—with the strong smell of the cognac etc. in it, the pharmacist protests! (I can only suppose he has mixed up the numbers somehow).

9.45. Well, I can use this to calculate. Let me see how long 2 c.g. aq[uarius] [Heroin] lasts me—avoiding serious discomfort. 1/50 x 15/1 = 3/10 grain.  P.S. I find I am unable to do this. When I wake up from my half-sleep in alarm as I do, I fly to the regular aq.

10.0. I observe with Ethel [Ether] that Nature has proved one too many for me. I say "I will take a little more Ethel and think of a way of getting even with her". Instantly the idea of Death comes into my mind. Obviously correct—the only way of "getting even". But I added "and the state is so intolerable that it bursts out instantly into new life (Cf. Berashith). Is it a coincidence, or did the bell start first? A neighbouring church has broken out into lugubrious tollings. I suppose somebody is dead. My first instinct is to protest: why distract people with thoughts of death? Next, I became mediaeval and approve. While I write this, the bell changes. A violent peal—rather lively—begins. It means nothing to me "Some feast, I suppose" I comment. But I am really annoyed by not knowing the whole story. And I reproach myself once more about my wasted youth!)

11.0. Marshall Fabert's reply to Louis XIII "Je tiens pour les cardinalistes, Sire! Car le parti du cardinal est le votre!" Let me remember this when I find my adherents acting against my wishes.

1.0. Bourcier rolls in and preaches Coue! But the matter with me is just this, that I have abused my will-power for years, and have none left. I could get up and go out perfectly well, just as I shaved yesterday—but at the risk of absolute collapse to follow. In fact, my danger is just that, that I should yield to the temptation to activity. Every scrap of money I get must be put in the bank! and I must not spend a penny needlessly till the accumulation allows me to live on the income.

1—Gardenal contains phenobarbital, a barbituate.

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