A conversation with an old friend reminded me that I have neglected this journal. This may help to remedy that.
Every number is infinite; there is no difference.
The old grimoires refer to the soul of man as a number without quantity.
In The New Comment we have Crowley offering up AL I:1-4 as both a confirmation of science and a crittique of science’s suppremacy. There seems to be a contradiction here. I will offer up that there isn’t a contradiction, and that the comments themselves point to an interesting bit of not-quite-meta-physics.
(NB: I’m couching this in terms of that which I’m most familiar. That is not philosophy; rather, it is physics, mathematics, and computer science.)
Quoting the new comment:
The theogony of our Law is entirely scientific, Nuit is Matter, Hadit is Motion, in their full physical sense. (Footnote: The Proton and the Electron, in a metaphysical sense, suggest close analogies.) They are the Tao and Teh of Chinese Philosophy; or, to put it very simply, the Noun and Verb in grammar. Our central Truth — beyond other philosophies — is that these two infinities cannot exist apart.
…
This explains the general theme of this revelation: gives the Dramatis Personae, so to speak.
It is cosmographically, the conception of the two Ultimate Ideas; Space, and That which occupies Space.
Quoting from the D comment:
Nuit is all that may be, and is shewn by means of any one that is.
Mathematical robotics basically comes down to three pieces:
- The space in which we act
- Perception
- Action
Nu can, very simplistically, be thought of as a space that incorporates all possible things that can be measured or experienced, whether by instruments, humans, or other beings. Had is that which occupies this space and perceives its immediate surroundings. Were it not for the existence of a particular Had, we could not be aware of Nut (in other words, Nut could not be made manifest). A better analogy would be to describe Nu as the infinite space of all number and idea, and Had as Dasein.
For a concrete example, imagine an entire tribe of people that can’t hear (perhaps because they have a mutated gene). Perhaps they might develop poetry after a fashion, but would it have rhyme or meter?
Our own senses are very limited in their perception of the cosmos; they evolved to enable us to perceive just enough of the cosmos to survive the jungle. The typical human perceives, precisely speaking: light, air pressure, temperature, damage, the presence of different chemicals, electric charge, gravity, the position of our limbs relative to the rest of our body. In a few cases one might also detect magnetic fields. From these we may be able to infer other conditions, many of which are socially constructed rather than innate, some of which are psychological, etc.
The Book of the Law suggests that Nu is infinitely more vast, and our selves infinitely smaller in comparison, than we are even capable of imagining. Thus the human condition exists in a very tiny hypercube on a very tiny subspace of Nu, and the modern world with all its technology and achievements dances on the head of a pin.
The New Comment continues:
Mathematical ideas involve what is called a continuum, which is, superficially at least, of a different character to the physical continuum. For instance, in the physical continuum, the eye can distinguish between the lengths of one-inch stick and a two-inch stick, but not between these which measure respectively one thousand miles and one thousand miles and on inch, though the difference in each case is equally an inch. The inch difference is either perceptible or not perceptible, according to the conditions. Similarly, the eye can distinguish either the one-inch or the two-inch stick from one of an inch and a half. But we cannot continue this process indefinitely — we can always reach a point where the extremes are distinguishable from each other but their mean from neither of the extremes. Thus, in the physical continuum, if we have three terms, A, B, and C, A appears equal to B, and B to C, yet C appears greater than A. Our reason tells us that this conclusion is an absurdity, that we have been deceived by the grossness of our perceptions. It is useless for us to invent instruments which increase the accuracy of our observations, for though they enable us to distinguish between the three terms of our series, and to restore the theoretical Hierarchy, we can always continue the process of division until we arrive at another series: A’, B’, C’, where A’ and C’ are distinguishable from each other, but where neither is distinguishable from B’.
On the above grounds, modern thinkers have endeavoured to create a distinction between the mathematical and the physical continuum, yet it should surely be obvious that the defect in our organs of sense, which is responsible for the difficulty, shows that our method of observation debars us from appreciating the true nature of things by this method of observation. (– The New Comment)
From a purely technological point of view, Crowley’s point should not bar us from creating better instruments to better detect these differences. Despite this fundamental limitation, such instruments are still quite useful to us. Microscopes and telescopes have, for centuries, aided our senses in distinguishing differences between thing that are very tiny or very far away, too much so to be distinguished clearly with the naked eye. We are at the point where we can perceive all light, not just visible light, using all different manner of technology.
This does not add new dimensions to our range of experience. Instead, it merely expands upon the ones we already have. Even if our instruments were to grow ever more powerful, the perception of science would still exist on the same very tiny subspace of Nut as before.
The subspace is captured, in its entirety, in the physical and gross. To escape this subspace — to add new dimensions to our experience — requires perception of that which is orthogonal to the subspace. Such things are not natural; they are praeternatural.
The atheist is going to object to this statement on the grounds that it’s untestable. We might think that this objection can be dismissed away by producing an experiment that causes the praeternatural to intersect with the gross, if only for an instant. For example, we have many examples of this by way of evokations, invokations, initiations, and other rites. The successful practice of evokation, in particular, provides us with evidence. Repeated success with this practice may then provide us with acceptible proof.
The atheist will then object that the proof given is not objective, but subjective, and not concrete at all. This objection is harder to counteract. Most people don’t evoke, and most of those who do evoke don’t do so in such a way that produces unmistakeable results. Even when this is done, the evidence obtained can be dismissed as anecdotal. It might be possible to produce enough evidence to build a concensus, but then what instruments would we use to assure ourselves that we’re not just engaging in mass hallucinations?
This goes again to one of the limitations of scientific enquiry. The choice to believe or to not believe one’s own experiences is, fundamentally, axiomatic. Perhaps this is why Evola argues that the praeternatural (which he calls the traditional) is not perceived, but remembered.
Scientific enquiry, however, has an even more powerful limitation: that it cannot escape the dictates of its own hypotheses. Heidegger does a better job than I could of addressing this in his essay The Question Concerning Technology. This, more than anything else, is the cave (or, if you like, the Matrix) in which we live.