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Aleister Crowley Diary Entry Tuesday, 27 May 1924
Tuesday.
1 A.M. Lettre ouverte a M. Clement Vantel. "Il n'y a pas de sot métier"? Soit: mais il yeu a de sales: dout le votre: jeter de la pouvre [?] aux hommes de genie. Elle n'atteint meme leur checille: mais cela n'enpeche pas que vous etes un cochon.
[The following is in the handwriting of Leah Hirsig:]
Mercurii May 27.
The Seven Ages of Man. I have never seen "As you Like It" on the stage. The speech is plainly iatm but has any actor ever attempted to give those Ages in Pantomime? I doubt it—i.e. since the actor for whom Shakespeare wrote it and was drilled into it under his eye. The point is, that on this supposition, the Fat is excusable as offering a supreme tour de force to a pantomist. This makes me very sad. I suppose I am imagining a Golden Age of acting. Whatever one starts on one reaches the Spanish conclusion "I wish I were dead".
[The following is in the handwriting of Crowley:]
6.40 P.M.
Oath ----- P O L I Z E I The dullest Teuton brain can pull The stuff to make the "Harness Bull" The lousiest Kike, the greasiest Wop May make an excellent "Fly Cop" But for the higher ranks aerial I don't know where they find material.
Big lions often act distressing To Monkeys when they're convalescing But when Big Lions get quite well They eat those Monkey's all to Hell!
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