The Beast & The Scarlet Woman are the sole authorized exponents of this doctrine.
A man’s possibilities are the heights to which he should climb. They are inherent in his own nature. Possibility fulfils itself whenever any individual makes it actual. The effect of any such act is to create the ineffable joy which accompanies the satisfaction of the ache resulting from the sense of imperfection.
Now a curse upon Because and his kin! May Because be accursed for ever! If Will stops and cries Why, invoking Because, then Will stops & does nought. If Power asks why, then is Power weakness. Also reason is a lie; for there is a factor infinite & unknown; & all their words are skew-wise. Enough of Because! Be he damned for a dog! But ye, o my people, rise up & awake!
The general method of attainment is explained by the word ABRAHADABRA. Its virtue may be thus described. The aspirant should discover for himself what elements are lacking to the perfection of his being are required to make him a complete expression of the Universe. He should then make it his business to infiltrate himself in all possible ways with this complementary idea so that there is ultimately no element of his being which is not completely satisfied by intimate union with each & every other idea conceivable.
The Book of the Law is the Charter of Woman; the Word Thelema has opened the lock of Her “girdle of chastity.” Your Sphinx of stone has come to life; to know, to will, to dare and to keep silence.
Yes, I, The Beast, my Scarlet Whore bestriding me, naked and crowned, drunk on Her golden Cup of Fornication, boasting Herself my bedfellow, have trodden Her in the Market place, and roared this Word that every woman is a star. And with that Word is uttered Woman’s Freedom
A ritual is not a melancholy formality; it is a Sacrament, a Dance, a Commemoration of the Universe. The Universe is endless rapture, wild and unconfined, a mad passion of speed. Astronomers tell us this of the Great Republic of the Stars; physicists say the same of the Little Republic of Molecules. Shall not the Middle Republic of Men be like unto them? The polite ethicist demurs; his ideal is funereal solemnity. His horizon is bounded by death; and his spy-glass is smeared with the idea of sin. The New Aeon proclaims Man as Immortal God, eternally active to do His Will. All’s Joy, all’s Beauty; this Will we celebrate.
Success is thy proof: argue not; convert not; talk not over much! Them that seek to entrap thee, to overthrow thee, them attack without pity or quarter; & destroy them utterly. Swift as a trodden serpent turn and strike! Be thou yet deadlier than he! Drag down their souls to awful torment: laugh at their fear: spit upon them!
She was following her True Will, refusing to be controlled by anyone, including him. Despite his deep love for her, he kept his emotions in check, held the sacred space, and respected the boundaries she set.
She was a wild cancan dancer living her best life at the saloon and had a quickdraw fourfold word for any cowpoke who tried to corral her.
The gunslinger stood with his eyes blazing, the love in his heart clashing with the law on his mind. He knew he had to choose one or the other, and in the end, the law won out. He holstered his gun and bowed his head in silent surrender.