Vote Coalition of Chaos!

I was in Bristol recently, one of my favourite cities in Britain. A city in many parts of which I have lived, done extensive psychogeography, and where I continue to visit often. Like London, indeed like many urban centres in Britain, Bristol has a rich and delightful mix of cultures, styles, ethnic groups and more. The same cannot be said for northern Devon where I now reside and where, at this time of an imminent general election, the signs of the United Kingdom Independence Party (UKIP) and the Conservative Party appear in the fields and hedgerows.

Historically, support for the right-wing Conservatives, and now for the (similarly right-wing) UKIPs is predominantly located in more rural regions of England. That’s not to say that support for right-wing approaches is limited to those resident outside cities. I recall, somewhat to my surprise, Pete Carroll proffering me a flyer promoting what I now recognise as a nascent UKIP while we were in a Bristolian pub many years ago. Seems that the intervening 20 or so years haven’t significantly changed Pete’s party political views (as you can read here. Though, he does declare himself as a Conservative voter this time round).

The current election slogan of the Conservative Party is ‘For a Better, More Secure Future’ and this for me summarises the attitude of what we might broadly understand as the left vs right-wing political approaches. Generally right-wing attitudes tend towards maintaining the status quo (as understood by those who are economically successful: those with inherited wealth, landowners and petty bourgeoisie). This conservativism seeks to keep things as they are; in the words of the Conservative Party to make the future more ‘secure’.

House party

House party

Right-wing ideologies may well be rooted in a neurological style. (Also see here for more on the construct of binary divisions in society, esp ‘them/us’. NW). Sometimes we need quick, clear, simple solutions (though we should be mindful of this). When we are being attacked by a tiger we need to fight or run, and we need to make this decision quickly and definitely. Meanwhile left-wing approaches are good for when we are dealing with more nuanced, complex situations, where the issue isn’t so much about making a grand decision as it is about understanding (and trying to subtly influence) things. A good example of this is the progress made against racism, which has, broadly speaking, emerged as a project from left-wing discourses. While some older people, and those in reactive right-wing mode, are prepared to embrace racist beliefs, for most younger people the idea that black humans are not as good as white humans has been successfully challenged and changed in many environments in Britain (such as schools, employment law, media etc).

Groups such as the UKIP, and indeed the Conservative vision of a ‘more secure’ future, generate a series of scary bogeymen in order to justify their swift, decisive, right-wing style policies; the hoards of Islamic militants in the UK intend on instituting Sharia Law; the ceaseless march of wind turbines across the country, ruining the ‘traditional’ landscape of Britain (the beauty of enclosed monoculture fields and electricity pylons…); a supposedly homogenous (and of course ahistoric) British culture being destroyed by the rapacious money-grabbing activities of immigrants; and more especially (in the case of the bogeyman set-up by the UKIP) an undemocratic European Union bent on taking away British sovereignty, turning our island into a hell of legal aliens and metric measurements.

Decision tree

Decision tree

In practice, the fear driven reactive policies of groups such as the UKIP appeal to folk who believe they have something to lose, and this concern is typically the shadow of the normal ‘clanning instinct‘ that humans possess. Yet even in rural regions this instinct is taking some fascinating forms in the current general election. In a constituency near me while the UKIPs seem to be doing better in the polls than the Conservatives, 37% of the electorate who plan to vote are, as yet, undecided about who they will choose.

Such uncertainty in the polls has drawn the usual words of worry from the mainstream parties. We are assured that a ‘coalition of chaos’ will be the outcome if the British public fails to return a clear majority for the Tories. I wonder if perhaps this situation might actually create a diverse and interesting hybrid government, where deals and negotiation will of necessity replace the tyranny of the parliamentary majority?

In any case it looks like a number of parties are moving towards constitutional changes for Britain. They include proposals to lower the voting age, to finally sort out the House of Lords (though it’s unlikely to be restructured using my favourite model) and to abandon the first-past-the-post system appear in a number of manifestos. Previous ‘majority’ governments have often been chosen by a relatively small percentage of the electorate.

Perhaps this uncertainty about who will control Britain is actually a good thing? While voting isn’t by any means the only political process we can engage with it is, in my view, an important one. Many people, including my own cultural ancestors, campaigned for enfranchisement and, as is often pointed out, some people will certainly be using their right to vote, and inaction can allow all kinds of nasties to get into government.

Finally, perhaps magicians of all political stripes might want to experiment with the following banishing ritual. The technique presented below may be combined with dance bodywork (using the track below for instance). Maybe this election is an opportunity for us to go beyond our fears and into a political landscape that unseats the limiting duality of two party politics into something richer, stranger and, who knows, maybe better?

Suggested banishing ritual for the British general election:

1. Touch the forehead say, ‘Green Party Above Me!’
2. Touch the base of the sternum say, ‘UKIP Below Me!’
3. Touch the left side of the chest say, ‘Labour to the Left of Me!’
4. Touch the right side of the chest say, ‘Conservatives to the Right of Me!’
5. Hold the arms out wide, as though greeting (or surrendering) say, ‘Liberal Democrats Behind Me!’
6. Make a triangle with the hands, palms facing outward (one point uppermost in the manner of the Illuminati), arms reach forward, say, ‘Chaos Before Me!’
7. Laugh.

Obviously many variations of this technique exist; for example, a powerful visualisation may be included of that Wrathful Dakini Nicola Sturgeon arising from the triangle of arte formed in step 6.

JV

 

What I Did On My Holidays

Sometimes it’s good to get away from facebook and the ceaseless barrage of emails, to retreat in order to advance (as they say in Tai Chi). Slipping into the deep data-stream of the landscape  refreshes the mind, the heart and the soul. So for Easter this year I travelled down to West Penwith in Cornwall to hang out with my dear friend Greg Humphries the ‘Wizard of the Woods’.

While chaos magic has been characterised by some as being a predominately urban style of occulture, the emphasis on gnosis (in the sense of direct, unmediated experience) meshes very well with practices such as seasonal celebrations, psychogeography and wild landscape inspired magics. In fact one of the earliest (and now rarest) of the first wave of chaos magick writings included a volume which one might argue was a spiritual forebear of the Chaos Craft project. The Cardinal Rites of Chaos details a series of seasonal ceremonies, calling on deities including Baphonet, Babalon, Eris and others. The use of multiple models of reality which is so essential to the chaos magic approach is clearly articulated in this text;

Chaos is the raw material with which we work. Cosmos
represents belief structures within that randomness and, as
such, is con- stantly changing. This was the first thing that
became clear when our group was started. A magician cannot
afford to use only one model of his relationship with chaos; he
needs different models for different functions and although it
would be convenient if these models were complementary they
often turn out to be contradictory.

The first leg of my journey deeper in to the west country begins with a visit to my artist friends and their burgeoning family in North Cornwall. In the morning, outside in a little glade, I make my petition to Pan as God of the magical British landscape, that me, my family and friends be blessed with fabulous and nourishing Easter holidays. (The wording of my spell, which included tobacco prayers and offerings of music and poetry from memory, is important. ‘Fabulous’ is from the latin ‘fabulosus‘ meaning ‘celebrated in fable’. Thus my intention is experience an Easter about which we could tell stories in years to come. These stories are imagined to emerge from ‘nourishing’ experiences, rather than being tales of woe.)

Piper at the Gates of Dawn

Piper at the Gates of Dawn

Our sojourn in West Penwith itself was punctuated by delightful walks with my friends and children, through muddy footpaths and woodlands, along streams and over moorlands. In the evening the fire roared and we watched movies and ate good food (on one night prepared by me and my eldest son).

On the West Penwith peninsular the sea is never far away and the sculpted forms of trees record the howling winds from the roaring Atlantic. The grass glows a vivid green and the sulphurous yellow of primroses spills wildly into the emerging season. Everyday we went out exploring, forging for wild food (one of the skills I’m pleased to possess), spotting plants and tracking animals.

Greg, me and my kids also spent one day building. At a local eco-friendly campsite that Greg helps manage we all set to with pruning saws, bill hooks and other tools. We cleared some land and cut back trees, making a space which would be used as a communal area for people camping on the site. Our plan was to erect a goal-post looking structure (some 3 metres high) and to use this as the main frame over which a tarpaulin would be stretched and tethered. The tarp would be sufficiently high and well ventilated so that a small fire could be safely lit beneath it. After a days work the space was clear and the chestnut poles had been prepared. Greg and I lifted these into position and packed the earth around them, stamping round and round in circles, pushing the earth down so that the structure was secure.

We made this

We made this

In common with most well adjusted kids my children really enjoyed this day. They knew they were free to leave and return to Greg’s house (a matter of a few yards away and occupied by his partner) whenever they wanted (or go elsewhere on the site to explore and play). However the prospect of building a shelter was a really appealing one and they spend over half a day, working hard, to help.

Completed wild camping space

Completed wild camping space

A few days later, during the full moon of Easter Friday, Greg and I were able to put our psychogeographical skills to good use. We have been on numerous walking adventures together (ranging over much of the North Cornish and Devonian coasts and to more exotic locations such as Nepal, where, in a Himalayas, we met the Secret Chiefs, but that, as they say is another story).

Walking out under the full moon (an eclipse moon for some of us on the planet) the air was still. The spring winds had dwindled and it was obvious that the next day would dawn bright and cold. Greg and I installed an Easter Egg hunt round the village. The first clue (to be discovered by the children in the living room of the house, along with various handy bits of advice and a compass) would lead them to the church yard to discover their first cache of eggs and another cryptic instruction. This would direct them to a green woodworking studio space that Greg uses. Having found the next set of eggs, and clue, they would set off to find the ‘fairy tree’ behind the local holy well. Rewarded with more eggs, further cunningly worded instructions, would direct them up the hill, towards the great stones which crown the nearby moorland. There they would find yet more eggs and a clue indicating that they should return to the house for the final prize (some big Easter Eggs of high quality organic chocolate hidden in Greg’s woodshed).

The colours of magic over West Penwith

The colours of magic over West Penwith

The children (my two and Greg’s daughter) know their way around the village very well. They rose early (unsurprisingly) and set off on their adventure (I woke too in time to see them leaving, with my youngest son the proud bearer of the backpack to collect eggs) setting off into the pale morning mist under the blazing sun. The tiny village is of course a safe environment for such an excursion and it wasn’t long before we heard them returning into the main part of the house, bearing large quantities of chocolate.

By setting up this trail Greg and I were, I hope, transmitting in an embodied way the way we both sense landscape. For us it is a numinous thing, when approached correctly. These sleepy Cornish villages (or the little Devonian town in which I live) can be magical places, where characters such as Pan and the mysterious deep magic of nature (expressed so eloquently in the work of Alan Garner, Louise Lawrence, Susan Cooper and others) is very much alive.

Upon their return the children had one final request made of them. They were given an egg to hide for us adults and asked to provide us with a clue to its location. (We soon tracked it down in some bushes behind the bus stop just outside the house.) In this way, as two fathers, Greg and I were sharing our attitude to the universe, as a place of fun, exploration, curiosity, quest and magic in way that was fun and engaging. Moreover we were acknowledging the value of passing on this joyous, creative approach to others.

Greg inspecting one of his tree nurseries

Greg inspecting one of his tree nurseries

Later that day I sat with Greg as he instructed me in how to make fire by friction. We went through in great detail the bow, the drill, the ash pan and the simple and cunningly fashioned technology needed to make fire in the way our ancestors did. Using Greg’s fire set I had a go. The bow of the kit, beautifully carved, along with the block that holds the drill. Trying to get each component into alignment, balancing, pushing, pressing and moving the bow. ‘Slow long movements…you’ve got it going…now keep going, another twenty strokes…’ Carefully the burning ember was tipped into a ‘nest’ of newspaper and blown. I had made fire and we had just sufficient time to capture this moment on camera.

Man make fire

Man make fire

The next day we returned to Devon and there spent more days relaxing and enjoying the warm spring weather.

During this time I did a little explicitly esoteric practice; some mindfulness meditation, a little yoga and tai-chi, some prayers of thanks to the Great Spirit. But on reflection there’s a lot more magic here than simply just those moments, and certainly Pan had smiled on us. We had all been enriched by this time and came away with stories to tell. Now in my house a half-made fire lighting set sits by my own hearth. When I’ve completed it I’ll be able to make fire by friction. This may not be a tale of spooky goetic demons and high strangeness (though those things have their worth) but for me learning to make fire using a method that my stone-age ancestors would have recognised; now that’s magic.

JV