Whenever life throws me a curveball; the kind of curveball that shatters your window view of the world, I find myself thinking about Crowley. I don’t mean to do it; he and his philosophies just intrude into my most mundane thoughts. Very bizarre thing, this.
I have read, virtually, everything the man has written and if we were to have met? I would have disliked him, immensely, as a person. It is truly a love/hate deal going on. I own or have owned all his books even a collection of his poetry, which I despise. His poetry sucks the big one.
But, his philosophies, his theories and views on life are incomparable. His thoughts resonate with me. His theories put voice to my thoughts and personal musings. Not all of them, of course; he could be a gigantic asshat at times (truth to tell, a LOT of the time) but overall, I do adhere and agree with his opinions. He was a man born years, a century before his time. He was too universal for Victorian England and too worldly for a planet caught between what was and the immense changes about to shake the foundations of humanity to its core.
Here I am again, allowing his words to wash over me and strengthen my convictions. Fascination and repulsion. Eurekas and a few face palms.
How scornful he would be to know that a pink collar, suburban housewife dares to pass judgement on the Great Beast! I have to admit, this amuses me to no foreseeable end. That I take comfort and sustenance from his views and adapt them (shock/horror) to my own? If he gave this a second thought, I would like to hope that this causes him to do a few 360’s in his current place of repose 😉
See you on the other side, Uncle Al? Thanks for your help.