Chthon:

An Approach to Lovecraftian Sorcery

By Carl Oort

Copyright 2015
 Introduction

The works of H.P. Lovecraft have haunted the world of darker magicks ever
since they rose to a modicum of popularity in the English-speaking world,
in time going beyond even the anglosphere into the rest of Europe, East and
West, as well as the Spanish-speaking territories of America. Now they
have even penetrated the Far East. No mage with any appreciation of
darkness has not at least perused The Call of Cthulhu and been charmed by
its black vision of the cosmos, and there are a plethora of games, offshoot
literature and magickal societies devoted to continuing its mysteries. In the
collective mind of horror, the Lovecraft or Cthulhu mythos is only rivaled
by the more cinematic standbys such as vampires, ghosts, aliens, etc.
Having said this, many of the ways the Lovecraftian mythos has been
incorporated into magick have been – to my mind, at least – slightly less
than what they could be. I have no intention of critiquing anyone's personal
sense of magickal style, of course, but I have not found the Simon
Necronomicon nor the elaborations of Kenneth Grant to be particularly
rewarding. You may disagree. Chaos magick itself presents all the tools
necessary to work with any entity – real or imagined (as if such a difference
exists) – but, even then, I have found many of the accounts lacking the
respectful sense of awe and depth that I have always personally felt
whenever reading Lovecraft or contemplating his visions. It therefore
became a task of mine to systematize my own form of Lovecraftian magick
to work with on my own terms – a system which retains the dreadful sense
of cosmic awe and allows for an encounter with them in a sorcerous
context. This small book is a presentation of that system. You may look at it
as a grimoire of sorts, but it is more accurately a pre-grimoire – that is, it
contains the elements of a truly Lovecraftian grimoire in bare outline. From
its basic tenets you can and should compose your own mythos grimoire,
innovating and elaborating as you see fit. I insist on no dogma but, also, I
hope to not cheapen the sense that the mythos naturally inspires, nor do I
wish to demote the beings of the Lovecraftian universe to mere intellectual
playthings or props. I also will not try to re-interpret other world cultures in
light of Lovecraft or vice versa. The mythos indeed has parallels to many
mythical, philosophical and mystical ideas – this is well known and needs
no comment – but that is not to say one necessarily needs to incorporate or
even understand such parallels. The mythos can be taken on its own, at face
value. In fact, I feel it is far better that way.

In the modern day, it must be admitted that most of the gods, goddesses,
demons and other disembodied beasts do not have a "reality" on par with
biological entities. They do not inhabit space and time – their existence is
restricted to their subjective, psychological effects upon those who believe
in them. If the belief is there, they possess power. Or, better stated, they are
means of accessing innate power – power which is often hidden from the
common individual. In this sense, one may work with the beings of
Lovecraft's mythos and be able to expect the same level of efficacy as one
might imagine are found in the deities of other, more historical pantheons.
However – as with all magickal practice – it is not merely a matter of
believing them. They must inspire a constellation of reactions in the
sorcerer's mind to have efficacy. Those who lack a special resonance with
Lovecraftian deities will not derive the same benefit as those who have such
a resonance. Belief is impotent, magickally speaking, without being charged
and intensified through altered states of consciousness. Interaction and
reaction is what determines magickal power. If belief is a passive
observance, it accomplishes little to nothing. Thus only those who have an
affinity with the beasts of the Lovecraftian mythos ought to summon them.
It is true that one may force an affinity with a certain pantheon over time,
but this is an advanced practice. For those not sufficiently advanced, it is
always advisable to work with whatever strikes them the most. Yet this is
not to say that the reality of the Lovecraftian mythos is restricted solely to
their symbolic, literary value. Although Lovecraftian entities may be
fictional in the objective, scientific sense, it must be understood that magick
operates through accessing and intensifying subjective phenomena – even if
the entity evoked is outside of the magician's mind, as it were. As symbols,
Lovecraft's beasts do indeed resonate with certain chthonic aspects of the
human psyche. This is the part of their power, but it is only a part.
Currently, our manifestation on this plane is one of extreme finitude and
limitation, yet such limitation is never truly isolated from the infinite whole.
There are powers beyond us which lie within us. Magick is a way to access
both the powers within and the powers without. Lovecraft's pantheon
symbolizes internal aspects of our psyche, it is true, but it also conveys the
path of external, cosmic forces – forces which the mind may access and
which are not restricted to the mind itself. To put this more bluntly, the
beings of the mythos are appallingly real. The names Lovecraft ascribed to
them are perhaps not their true names, but he indeed described their essence
and nature with peculiar accuracy. Though you may find parallel
descriptions of them in world literature, such descriptions are almost always
whitewashed and tamed. Our universe – though not, perhaps, evil – is cruel,
blind and ferocious. Principles of essential unity, of "divine" action, of
conscious ubiquity – all of these are sources of horror as much as they are
sources of love and light. A simple perusal of the history of evolution
demonstrates this: nature creates monsters of murder and rapine, who feed
upon the living. It gives birth to chimeras every bit as demonic and
terrifying as that imagined by the better angels of our nature. The earth has
been covered over in tears and blood since life first stirred in her warm,
placid seas. Reason, compassion, civilization – these are the exceptions to
the blind rule. If ever you should wish to work with cosmic forces, you
cannot deny this fact. Lovecraft's materialism allowed him to properly
define and convey such forces. The more "spiritually" minded often failed
at this. It is true, for example, that a Hindu may encounter the awe-
inspiringly bloody nature of the cosmos and designate it "Kali", expressing
it via grisly symbols of death, frenzy and cruelty. However, not long after
their initial fear, Kali is then made out to be a compassionate, wise mother.
She now loves and protects her devotees, holding them close to her sugared
heart, with her blackness and depravity described as only applicable to her
enemies, not to "us". Lovecraft refuses to fall into such illusions: Kali, as a
cosmic force, is a monster and can only be described as a monstrosity. To
do otherwise would remove the most potent aspect of her encounter: her
venom.

With that stated, the venom of the Lovecraft mythos is their darkness as
described. Evoking them is a means of accessing their chthonic forces –
forces of the netherworld or reality behind the veil. You likely already have
had a sense of this if you purchased this work. You already know of the
darkness I speak of – not evil, certainly, in the moralistic sense, but
something powerful, blind and pure. From whence does this cosmos roar
forth? Not a bearded Tsar on a cloud. No – the cosmological and
psychological forces which compose our being are raw, wild and untamed.
It is these forces which weave together our existence. Only our commitment
to delusion tells us otherwise. It is telling that the first gods were ferocious
and their ferocity was only imagined less once humans got it into their head
that humanity ought to be loved, nurtured, cherished and kept close to the
bosom of these gods, for all their failures. The earlier shamans knew better:
our life is a but an evanescent dance before the coal-black universal
midnight. Whatever light we have is imputed to us from the slow death of
the stars – but it is night that always prevails. This is the key to Cthulhu and
the rest: to symbolize these forces, to access them, to experience them and
to use them. The "real" Necronomicon is this and only this – a parable
about the magick of the dark.

This is written to those who already have some familiarity with sorcery. To
the absolute beginner, some additional instructions might be required, but I
have tried to be as comprehensive and detailed as I can without putting an
undue amount of fat into the writing. Luckily, the basic elements of all
sorcery are easily and quickly described – the difficulty is in becoming
proficient at it. Certain minds are more adept than others, but it is a private
belief of mine that anyone who truly wishes to succeed already possesses
the necessary talent. It is merely a matter of waking that latent talent and
letting it bloom. How does one do this? As with all things, by practice. The
more you practice magickal evocations, the more success you will
encounter. Still, if you find this account to lack any necessary details, there
are a variety of good books on the subject. I may, in the future, write a basic
outline. Until then, do some more reading then revisit this work.
 Beginning

If you have already been trained in magickal consciousness, the proper

mental state will often come once all the requisite items in place. Naturally,
everything should be black: a black wand, a black dagger, a black cup, a
black scryer's mirror and shining, black stones (obsidian being my
preference). These can all be purchased easily and cheaply. Spray paint is
ideal for the wand, dagger, cup and scryer's mirror – the mirror itself need
not have a reflective surface and a simple standable picture frame with the
glass removed and the cardboard back painted black will suffice. The look
of the wand is not important, nor is the appearance of the cup or dagger. But
let all be black. A black cloth should also be draped over the altar. Water is
to be placed inside the cup – ideally from the sea or a natural water source,
but any water will do. Water, however, is only used once the being reveals
its words and signs, as you shall see.

The Cthulhu mythos can be distilled into the following individual beings:

Yog-Sothoth
Azathoth
Nyarlathotep
Shub Niggurath
Cthulhu
Dagon

Alongside these are the following masses or collections of beings, not

identified individually:

Other Gods
Deep Ones
Old Ones
Outer Ones
Shoggoths
etc.

There are others mentioned, but for our purposes only the first six will be
spoken of. And even then, each deserves their own book. Only the broad
outlines will be dealt with here.

It must be remembered that Lovecraft's pantheon represents extra-cosmic

forces. In magickal terms, this simply means that they ought not be looked
upon or dealt with as representatives of the planets or Zodiac. It is a (bad)
habit of magicians to see everything in everything, at all times. True
correspondences do exist and can be quite revealing, but not every beastie
needs to be integrated into a over-arching system. In the case of Lovecraft's
beasties, I have seen them aligned to astrology, the Kabbalistic sephiroth,
Egyptian and Hindu deities. This is a game worth playing, perhaps, but I
prefer to encounter them outside of such contexts. Yet it is no offense to
recognize their extra-cosmic meaning and its parallels in the psyche. It is
true that everything within the psyche is astrologically mapped, but the stars
– it is said – ultimately derive from the black fires beyond them. This
describes the beings of the Lovecraftian mythos well.

In brief, the six major Lovecraftian beings can be attributed to the following
cosmological principles:

Yog-sothoth = Nascent or umanifest Chaos

Azathoth = manifest Chaos on a universal scale
Nyarlathotep = manifest Chaos on a local scale
Shub-Niggurath = the fertile powers of Chaos / Chaos as creation
Cthulhu = the destructive powers of Chaos / Chaos as destruction
Dagon = the synthesis of all former forces on a local scale
The Chaos spoken of here is the definition of existence in its truest and
most essential form. The cosmos we see is a living symbol of order, but
order is nothing more than Chaos limiting itself in its process of divine self-
mutilation. Were Chaos to remain chaotic at all times, it would not be true
Chaos, for true Chaos becomes all things – even its opposite. The divine
self-mutilation – spoken of in many myths – is that ghastly act whereby
Chaos nullifies its own form, giving rise to a deep, blinding pain within its
center, bleeding "outward" in the form of what humans call math or the
principles of number, quantity, etc. To the human mind this rightly appears
sick and dreadful, but it is certainly true – even a brief perusal of how
evolution works will lead any decent chap or lass to recoil in horror: the law
of evolution is all that we call "wicked" in human society, running upon
lines of murder, hemmed in by atrocity, unfurled through tyranny. This is
not to say we should become tyrants – on the contrary, I live by the
Confucian "do not unto others what you would not have done to yourself",
and if I am wrong, I wish punishment – but rather that we should not delude
ourselves as to what reality is. The light is brief here / vast is the darkness.
Those who sought for God in sanity, logic, reason, order, did not find him:
God, if he exists, is found in the Outer Wastes, where the mind and body
cannot tread and the visage of Chaos is everywhere in phase after phase of
metamorphosis – the dark visage of the cosmic Satan, grinning in the night.
And God, truthfully, is as Lovecraft described him: all in one, one in all,
blind, cruel, an idiot, insane. If you wish to delve into the darkness, you
must also let your sanity slip – albeit in a controlled, structured way: the act
of evocation. To do so in any other manner is to court a personal atrocity.
And do not misunderstand the reasons for why you ought to evoke the dark:
it is not for wealth, or love or power. It is not to gain vengeance on your
enemies or seek a more comfortable way of life. You may be artistically
inspired, but that is also not the reason. Nor is it for personal transformation
– remain what you are, for you can do nothing else. None of these reasons
apply.

Why, then, evoke?

For knowledge – knowledge that will not benefit you in any way, perhaps,
but knowledge that you cannot help but seek. What is time's purpose, if not
to waste it? I say this with a smirk, of course – still, the real beauty of
magick is not in what it can do, but what it can show you. It is not in what
you can do but what you can see. In the end, action proceeds from vision
and if vision is blind, action is impotent.

To describe the pantheon in brief, Yog-sothoth and Azathoth operate as one

contiguous being, though they have their respective attributes. Yog-sothoth
is Chaos in its most fundamental aspect as the unbridled freedom of
being/nothingness that underlies all things. Azathoth is that same Chaos in
the act of spilling forth from out of itself and returning into itself through
annihilation and absorption. Please be aware, however, that language does
not suffice to express them – they are wholly Other than what your
consciousness can conceive of on its own, or what it allows as possible.
While Yog-sothoth dwells in a state of deep self-oblivion, Azathoth is the
extension of this oblivion into an infinite, mindless landscape of warps and
motions. These warps and motions form lightless vortexes which
momentarily assume the act of causation. And as causation implies locality,
Nyarlathotep is born – the Hermes, if you will, of the pantheon. He acts as
the black conduit between the cosmos – an infinitely layered multiverse,
more properly -- and what lies outside it, even while the cosmos is still yet
unformed. Psychologically, our bare awareness of reality/experience is an
example of his cosmic work on the scale of our personal organism. Beside
him is Shub-Niggurath, the black goat-mother of a thousand young and lord
of the woods. A fertility goddess, she represents the pouring forth of
manifest, symmetrical and asymmetrical forms into the cosmos,
corresponding to the imaginative powers of the psyche. It is she that is the
mother of sentience and therefore the mother all nightmares and dreams.
Then, after her, Cthulhu comes – a destroyer and devourer of both sentience
and insentience. Shub-Niggurath is the womb, Cthulhu is the tomb, to be
needlessly colloquial about it. He can be observed as the principle of
impermanence in both the wider cosmos and in the limitations of our
manifest life – the killer, the slayer, the destroy, devourer and abolisher of
all things. After him is Dagon – the synthesis of all into one, limited aspect.
You may think of Dagon as representing the super-structure of your own
consciousness – the "self" and its interface with its own unconscious
contents – as well as the overall state of the cosmos as it currently
functions. Yet because Dagon is a synthesis, all the former elements are less
pronounced. This is also why, in the ladder of black ascent (or descent, as
the case may be), Dagon is the first to be evoked.
 Evocation

Evocation is the art of magickal calling. Through it, the sorcerer may
achieve contact with deeper aspects of himself, or of entities outside
himself.

In this form of sorcery, two types of evocation are specified: dry and wet. A
dry evocation is where the Lovecraftian being is evoked without aid of any
of its communicated signs (sigils) or words, and constitutes the preliminary
evocation. Wet evocation is what is performed after the being has revealed
to the sorcerer its special signs and words. Subsequent evocations are to be
performed with these signs and words, though they ought never to be
conveyed to another human being.

Some advocate a preliminary yoga and other forms of mental manipulation

prior to a ritual, and I agree with them to a point. My other works should be
consulted if you want my take on them. The "missing link" in evocation and
other magickal arts – as I see it – is a temporary dissolution into the Kia. To
convey what the Kia is briefly, consider the uttermost depth of yourself,
where the mind and body have no currency and where all the manifold
waves of experience never reach. It is a total void. There, magickal power
occurs. When it is brought forth to the conscious mind – a paradox, yes –
then the real fun begins. magickal power can be manipulated in an
unconscious way, of course, but the best place is that plane where
consciousness and unconsciousness meet – the void, the emptiness
encountering the world of motion and form, and vice versa.

These Lovecraftian sorceriers ought also only to be undertaken by those

with prior success in sorcery. Absolute neophytes need not apply.

Dry evocation
The black cloth is draped over the altar. The scryer's mirror is in the center.
To its left, the black cup of pure water. To its right, the wand. Before it, the
knife. If the altar is on the floor, sit before it. If it is high, stand. Be naked,
the robe to your left. Then light the candles behind you. Do it slowly and
deliberately, not allowing your mind to wander. Then, in silence and in
nudity, grab the knife and hold it to your throat, making a sliding motion as
if slitting it (do not harm yourself, of course. This is purely symbolic). Then
speak to the blackness beyond the cosmos, saying that you offer your body
and mind in sacrifice to it so long as the evocation lasts, but no longer.
Those familiar with the common rules of evocation know that a banishing is
to take place before evoking and this act constitutes the banishing. It tells
no spirits to depart – they will look upon this ghastliness and depart of their
own accord. Whether you interpret this psychologically or realistically
matters not at all.

Then don the robe, for now you are entering the ritual's heart. As the robe
covers you, you are symbolically consumed in blackness, in darkness, in the
shadow outside of time. Watch now for what happens to your body and
mind. A change has occurred, albeit subtle. You may feel fear, as you
should. You may also feel a turning about or a stirring within your body, as
if something inside you were attempting to get out. Perhaps it is your soul,
frightened of what is to come.

Do not linger on the sensation. It will be of no help to you. A sorrow may

also come upon you, or a light feeling of depression. Pay no attention to
them – they also will not aid your task. If you know how to silence your
mind, this is the time to do it, but something will silence it for you soon.
Already you are in their hands and it is only a matter of time before they
take you (momentarily).

Then say the name of the being you wish to evoke. If you must, say it
silently to yourself, but to speak it out loud is preferably. They will arrive in
both cases, though audible sound has more impact.
At this time, the marvelous may occur: the room fills with a distinct sense
of the presence of something Other – wholly so. A cold, black, alien
intelligence. Fear is common at this juncture and can be utilized to deepen
the sense of the being's presence. But any intense emotion will do: sublime
awe, philosophical reverie, stunned silence, the sweep of universal
midnight, an eternal sorrow, the tranquility of a lonely grave. . .

Now direct your full attention to the scryer's mirror. It constitutes the ritual's
focal point, whereupon the being will show itself visibly. Often the shapes
will appear as amorphous and scintillating patches of light, but as your gaze
continues they will assume the form of definite objects: geometries,
indecipherable letters and glyphs, faces, flora, fauna. As yet, this is only
your innate capacity to hallucinate – the being remains hidden. Continue to
gaze. Then, in a state of delicious or awful tension, you will eventually
notice both that the presence of the being and the clarity of the scried forms
begin rise in intensity. You will know a direct communication from the
being when the scrying mirror's image becomes stable, neither dissolving
nor drifting into something else. Your mind will have also reached such a
stasis – the being now has its hold on you and to protest its grip will do you
no favors. You will see what it wishes you to see. Commit it to memory –
for every sorcerer, an individual sign is communicated, alongside a series of
barbarous words. With every being, there is first a dry encounter – perhaps
many of them before it truly speaks – and once the signs and words are
given, the encounter is moistened by that dark, acosmic sea. You may use
the signs and words as a means of intensifying and quickening further
evocations. Write down the words and draw the signs immediately upon the
conclusion of the rite.

The dry rite has been explained in full, with the exception of how it is to
end: the being will signal you that it is done, usually through
communicating a quiet sense of completion or by reacting to you in anger.
Simply let it happen and, in reverent silence, give thanks to the being,
allowing the silence of the moment to linger a while as it dissipates and,
when the time is right, extinguish the candles and turn on the lights.

Wet evocation
With the barbarous words and sign(s) in hand, future evocations may take
place through the drawing of the sign while repeating the words given, with
all other details as described above. The sign should be placed flat before
the scryer's mirror. Once drawn, take the wand and dip it in the black water
cup. Wet with that water, touch it to the sign. Now listen to the deep
symbolism implied in the image of the sea: of all earthly forms, it is the sea
which most parallels the operations of Chaos – alongside the air and its
weather. The epithet Lord of the Air should now take on a new significance
for you, but let us concentrate on the sea: R'lyeh is the earthen citadel of
that wasting sea outside all universes, Cthulhu asleep in its depths, waiting
like Leviathan for its arousal. It is fitting that it should be the sea – south of
heaven – for the sea, like that primordial Chaos of old, is a fathomless lack
of all forms, yet which supports all forms. Her beasts are her transient
limitations, but the sea herself remains quiet in her abominable, threshing
wholeness. Those beings outside our cosmos – and outside all cosmoses –
are the outer sea and her forms. By touching the water to the sign while
intoning the words given, a ritual act is repeated that spans long in advance
of humanity and its sins.

Or so it is said.

While the dry evocation is an initial attempt, the use of water allows for true
visions to arise. And by true visions I mean the literal entrance into a
waking dream. It is a pet theory of mine that Lovecraft touched upon
primordial forces in his time spent in dream, falling into a deep obsession
with them and, finally, conveying them to the world through his immaculate
prose. It is fitting that he should be a deranged elitist, addicted to a
thoroughly materialistic view of things – it is the flesh, after all, through
which the spirit is revealed. His disbelief in the non-physical sufficiently
siphoned off the operations of his conscious mind, allowing him to dive
deep into his soul's many black abysses. Men have started world religions
with far less but, true to their fear, rarely did they ever have a sense of this
universe's true depravity. Even those who pierced the veil and peered into
infinity's yawning gulf were soon to recoiled from the experience in terror,
preferring to tame it with their self-help jargon and ignorant poetry. The
Kabbalah is a perfect example of this: there is a Talmudic story that four
rabbis were granted a vision of paradise. The first rabbi saw it and perished.
The second was driven to madness. The third attempted to destroy it while
the fourth remained calm. Were paradise – the abode of Deity – never
experienced as negative, it is doubtful that such a story would be told. Yet
the Kabbalists did not linger upon the clear meaning of the story: paradise
or pardes is precisely that which can drive the mind to death, to madness, to
war. It is possible to behold it in peace and leave, but not probable.
Lovecraft saw it and turned his madness, his wrath and his desire for death
into art – a noble endeavor, putting many forever in his debt. But the term
paradise is misleading – what they saw is only a paradise for those whose
mind has reached a temporary suspension of all its faculties. If the active
mind encounters this true netherworld, it often collapses. The act of
evocation is strict and tangible for this very reason: to do so without
discipline can potentially destroy the sorcerer or, at the very least, give him
a bad month. The visions inspired are haunting, akin to nothing like we are
accustomed to in the space of our experience. At first you may see distinct
scenes – silver rain falling upon black mountains; an angry, intrepid face
slowly disintegrating into vast midnights; a worldless eon filled with
cackling, amorphous demons in flight, etc. – but time will pass and these
images will collapse into a central experience of the depth of the evoked
being. Mind to mind, you will see out the eyes of Cthulhu, listen through
Shub-Niggurath's ears and speak with Dagon's voice – or, rather, the
realities symbolized by these beings. It is a yogic state – communion, union,
synthesis, a binding. Words fail it and, by it, you will come to learn what
the beasts outside our cosmos all know: the silent, unreal essence of Chaos
that grows and collapses all things.
 Rising evocation to intensity

The simplicity and utter darkness of the ritual is its power. Nonetheless,
some may require a stronger push into altered awareness. Historically,
evocations of this nature were performed alongside blood sacrifices and
foetid scents. I do not recommend the former but the smell of sulfur,
decaying leaves and other abominations may prove useful. Burning
tobacco, also – the fumes should be noxious or unpleasant. Foul ocean
scents are particularly desirable.

Music is inadvisable. White noise or a blanket of ocean sounds are not

offensive to the spirit of the evocation, however. If you are in such
circumstances that outer noises often intrude, sounds such as these are one
way to effectively block them out. A loud wall of white noise is also
potentially jarring yet soothing enough to inspire an altered state of mind in
itself. Experimentation is the key – try many things to augment the ritual
but keep the ritual itself pure and precise.

On the topic of using painted lamps, I am indifferent with a slight eye

towards the negative. The blackness of the ritual is its power. A lamp of any
paint will only mar it. Still, if your mind is of such a bent that a lamp will
aid your black ascent, then use one. Let the color be red, blue or purple. I
would still prefer you not use them at all. Simple candles are enough, and
only insofar as they provide enough illumination to the altar for you to be
able to use the knife, wand, cup and mirror. Lamps are good for other spirits
but not for these.

Rituals are not always intense – even for the experienced. It is better to
confront a lack of intensity head-on and not try to cheat it. The mind should
be inspired from within, ideally. A later chapter dealing with trials and their
solutions will be much better for you in this regard. Nonetheless, some may
find these suggestions helpful and it is better to put them to use and see
rather than stubbornly forego them and remain lost in blindness.
 The ladder of black ascent

As each of the demons in Lovecraft's mythos function as a hierarchy,

traveling deeper and deeper into chaos's black night, so too ought their
evocation to follow the hierarchical pattern. Dagon is the first, Yog-Sothoth
is the last. This is the ladder of black ascent, with each encounter building
on the former.

Begin with Dagon, dry. Then wet. Then move up the ladder, slowly.
Preferably you should evoke every day until you successfully uncover the
signs and words of the being. Then spend a month evoking the same being
every two or three days. The day of the evocation makes no difference –
Saturday is as good as Tuesday. But do so often. A month should give you
the necessary familiarity, and this familiarity will prepare you for the next
step. Once you ascend, you may descend and will know how and why when
the time is right.

Place a careful eye, also, on the nature of the visions. Though the imagery
of a vision will often differ radically from one evocation to the next, certain
primary feelings will be encountered. I have isolated the following most
common ones, each of which constitutes a circuit which one may pass
through:

Fear
Anger / diabolical frenzy
Sexual arousal
Understanding
Dark transcendence
Oblivion

A successful month of evocation will incorporate elements of all six,

though not always. Dagon predominates in the sense of fear, Cthulhu in
anger, Shub-Niggurath in sexual arousal, Nyarlathotep in understanding,
Azathoth in dark transcendence and Yog-Sothoth in oblivion.

Each six of these primary sensations or articles of cognition has a

metaphysical implication or meaning to them – a meaning which unveils an
aspect of the being in question. Yog-sothoth and Azathoth are continuous
and pervasive in all things – matter, mind and what lies beyond. They are
also wholly Other. It is a paradox, a contradiction, an absurdity that none
should believe, but it is nonetheless true. These Others also have their
entrances and exists in things – again, whether by flesh, spirit or their
union. It is these six sensations that situate experience in an area where
knowledge is attained, directly. Contrary to popular belief, actual
knowledge is a matter of intensity – an intensity that obliterates all
concepts, transcending language, conveying itself in and through the body.
Knowledge is physical, if by physical one understands Austin Osman
Spare's doctrine of Zos as the ever-living flesh of all possible experience.
Such knowledge is always in the moment and unmediated by symbolic
thought. Only then do you know and such knowledge, also, is always of the
dark. The light of distinction has no currency here and should it shine at all,
it will soon be devoured by the outer wastes which inhabit the spaces
between all things, as you will see.

The sensations also do not all arrive distinct and isolated one from another.
Fear can be intimately bound with sexual arousal, just as oblivion can be
bound with anger and understanding. The sensations may also be directed
to a particular object of the vision – an object of hatred, disgust, desire, dark
beauty, etc. – or they may emerge in such a way that they have no obvious
point of reference. This latter point is not important but may prove
confusing to some. The visions often are only present in order to instigate
that sensation and occasionally – or even quite often – you may note that
the sensation arises without any corresponding vision.

In all things involved in this work, see the depth, not the surface. Though a
thousand flashing images rise before you, remain faithful to your task.
Watch. If watched long enough and with enough focus, the entire cosmos
will dissolve before you – it is the same with evocation.
 Other beings

The other beings mentioned in Lovecraft can be looked upon as

representing the servitors of the primary pantheon. They can be evoked in
the same way, though ideally after Dagon has first been successfully evoked
via the wet path – that is, after Dagon has revealed his words and signs.
Whereas the pantheon itself pertains to dark knowledge, the others, being
servitors, may be used to carry out desired tasks. They also reveal signs and
words. Bear in mind, however, that they do not render obedience to a
sorcerer out of mere respect for his talents, nor out of reverence for the
antiquity of any rite, properly performed. Requests can be made, but never
demands, and they may require you to fulfill some of their own requests. I
do not recommend their evocation except as an exercise in expanding your
vision, for it is doubtful they will show you anything that you cannot
already perceive through the visions given by the pantheon.

If you work with them, realize you are not the one in control. This is likely
not the sort of evocation you are accustomed to, so a healthy fear and
trepidation is warranted until you reach a level of mastery. But remember,
again: you are not in control. Do not let your hubris get the best of you.
 Trials and their solutions

Cruelty is the cleanest solution to any problem – not my rule, but nature's. If
you find your evocation lacks the desired effect and notice that this
condition lasts longer than a week, a regimen of self-discipline and
conditioning is in order. Evocations fail not from lack of knowledge, but
from lack of will. And will is an easy Leviathan to rouse, provided you do
so with cruelty.

What is meant by this? It is quite simple: two acts are to be performed –

fasting and isolation. A third act of sleep deprivation may also prove
helpful, but fasting and isolation will be sufficient for most.

Fasting: – Drink is allowed, but not the excessively nourishing kind. Only
water – lightly sugared with juice, if you so juice – and calorie-less
stimulants like tea or coffee. The body must be made to hunger, for hunger
awakens the will and sends the mind and body into desperation. That
hunger is a nagging sensation, giving rise to obsessions if done properly. A
day is often not enough – allow at least two days to transpire before going
forth. If your health is harmed by such, you may take small pieces of food
at irregular intervals. Olives, small bits of cheese, an occasional slice of
bread. But never eat to the fill. The sense of hunger must be maintained.
Then, in the throws of that blind hunger, perform the rituals as described,
dry or wet. You will see improvements and should you ever encounter again
a time where evocation lacks intensity, return to fasting. This is a method of
the oldest provenance and its efficacy is beyond doubt once successfully
performed. Do not disbelieve.

Isolation: – This is also a form of fasting, but a fasting from all stimuli
rather than nourishment. Ideally it is performed in addition to the former
fast but for those who cannot fast for reasons of health, career or
circumstance, isolation is a benign substitute. The timing should be no less
than the space of an hour, but no more than three. If you are carrying out a
fast from nourishment also, two days will suffice, but do consider
prolonging the isolation to at least two hour or an hour and a half. If you are
not fasting from food, let six days transpire, each with a session of isolation.
Then perform the rite.

Of isolation itself, the method is simple: in a temperate room, sit in silence

with your eyes closed. If you have a room of total darkness, use it. Ear-
plugs or sound-proof headphones can also be used, as well as a covering
over the eyes, blocking out all light. Let all sensations come to their end and
know nothing of this world nor yourself. Thoughts will emerge in rapid
succession but pay them no attention. Tell them to "depart" as soon as they
rise. In time you will see that your mind enters into a dark, calm space that
is at once distant from all things yet perfectly clear and aware. Thoughts
may arise but they will be as though miles away – an inconsequential
bustling which concerns you not at all. Let your breath be steady and
tranquil, though do not pay it an inordinate amount of attention. No pain
should be felt in either your legs or back, so ensure your position is
comfortable enough to fall asleep in. Do not sleep, however – drinking
coffee or tea beforehand is advisable. If you must rise to relieve yourself, do
so calmly, telling thoughts to depart. Once finished, return to your position.

As with fasting, the will is roused by a lack of all images – even if such
should give rise to a deep calm. When the will grows calm in such isolation,
it merely hibernates, as it were, regenerating its strength, feeding on its fat
stores of self-emergent sensation. Do not expect calm, however – not at
first. At times you will feel as if you are in the midst of battle, setting your
black citadel against wave after wave of attacking thoughts. This is good –
the will is also roused in this way. In time it becomes battle-hardened, lusty,
intrepid and foolish. Then when it calls upon the dark, the darkness holds it
close, for it mirrors the form of acosmic Chaos – the black, silent mother
whose perpetual night gives rise to the sordid and grotesque imageries of
causation. Again, do not disbelieve it – try and see.

Sleep deprivation: – Though necessary for certain types of evocation and

quite beneficial, a period of sleep deprivation is not an act I would
recommend to all. Simply described, do not sleep for over twenty-four
hours. Then begin the ritual. Fasting and isolation are not required but be
warned of this: the faculties of your memory may wane due to lack of sleep
and this is not at all recommendable when evoking Lovecraftian entities. A
sharp memory is what makes the visions useful, for all experience perishes,
only to live on in its mental echoes. The man who loses his memory loses
his life, save for the moment. Remember, truly, is the watchword of all
evocation and a period of sleep deprivation is a last resort. Nonetheless,
many who have never had a sense of any entity have forced an encounter
due to a lack of sleep. The ideal time is a period of thirty hours awake – six
hours past a typical day. Such can constitute a type of initiation for those
whose consciousness does not incline towards rare and uncommon
perceptions, but only if it is followed by a ritual. If you endure sleeplessness
only to terminate it in sleep, without practice, you exercise yourself in
futility. Remain awake, then summon, then sleep. And should you do this,
be sure to record your dreams.

These three methods, taken as a hierarchy, will suffice to give you an

encounter with the depths. Take special care of your health, however: you
are here to see, not suffer. The darkness has crones and curmudgeons, but
never martyrs – ideally, at least.
 Ethical binding

Ethics never exist for their own sake and virtue is never truly its own
reward. All is done in the name of convenience or a greater expediency. It is
true that such an expediency may be one's own private aesthetic, but it is for
the sake of the aesthetic that virtue is performed, and not virtue in itself.
The same is true of vice. We do not exist in a universe inclined to teleology
but we are currently teleological beings, imbuing ourselves with a purpose
in all things. Or perhaps a better word than imbued would be imprisoned –
we are fated to our desire to seek meaning and from the standpoint of
meaning. This is our blessing, perhaps, but most often it proves a curse.
With that being said, a degree of ethical binding can also increase the
efficacy of evocation. As fasting, isolation and sleep deprivation binds the
will, a series of ethical precepts can bind one's potential for action. This
conserves and rouses energy in a similar manner to fasting and isolation
and, with that in mind, I will describe it succinctly

To establish an ethical binding, place upon yourself some arbitrary

strictures which you must observe at all costs. And I do mean all costs – if
you decide to use this method, you must follow it in letter and spirit,
allowing for no mistakes or indiscretions. Should you "sin" against your
own ethical bindings, you may note a probationary period of magickal
failure – no spells are successful, no visions are achieved and everything
assumes a dreadful pallor, leaving you lethargic and veering toward an all-
too-familiar sickness and depression. However, should you chose to
maintain your ethical precepts, each subsequent day of success will increase
your energy, leading to deeper intensities experienced before the altar.
Another blessing, another curse. . .

The ethical strictures do not necessarily need to have any moral content to
them, but these often prove the most useful. To avoid speaking to anyone in
anger, to refuse the telling of lies, to withdrawing yourself from all sexual
satisfaction – these are examples of ethical precepts which serve to
strengthen the entire structure of your persona. But they are temporary.
Words spoken in anger can be quite appropriate, as can the occasional well-
placed and helpful lie. Celibacy is dreadful but if you maintain it for the
space of three or four days (without fasting from food) you may note that a
light state of arousal pervades your entire day, making the entire world to
shine with a beautiful sense of sexuality. To maintain it longer can increase
this to the point of ecstasy, especially if you are learned in the arts of
traveling just close enough to the edge to see to the depth while refusing
yourself the pleasure of the fall. But you can also set yourself in
meaningless rules such as avoiding the seated position, sleeping on hard
cardboard, eating only bread with jam, etc. Be aware, however, that
meaningless ethical precepts are only beneficial when you are confronted
with trials. If you are insisting on a diet of bread and jam for a week, this is
most beneficial on holidays where family and friends set delight after
delight in front of your face. Place a bit of grit, hardness and refusal in your
life – it will do you much good. But once you commit, remain committed –
do not slip.
 Conclusion

Andre Breton once likened death to a secret society. The description is quite
apt for our purposes – the evocation of these dark, knowledge-bearing and
uncreated beings is an initiation of sorts, with a beginning and a middle, but
perhaps no end.

Some of you may smile at my literalism in regards to Lovecraft's mythos,

but it is with intent: the names he gave them are names and no more. This is
also true of all spirits, angels, devils and gods – the illustrious Arbatel itself
says as much. Yet though names and forms are used to evoke, it is not the
name nor the form itself that is evoked. Gazing again upon my definitions
of the Lovecraftian pantheon, you know well that these forces exist. Science
has spied but a small fragment of them. But Chaos exists and is our mother.
Since we are her children, we exist and she exists within us, being the
source of the entirety of our being. And that source has her tendrils in all
places, manifest or unmanifest – in you, in I, in all things. Why then choose
a "weird fiction" author's designations for them? After all, he admitted they
were pure imagination – nothing more. The Necronomicon does not exist,
nor does its author. Its beasts, too, must be assumed to be equally non-
existent. But such a view is superficial and beneath any true worker in the
magick arts, for all myths are "weird fiction" and all grimoire spirits are
examples of the "weird fiction" of their day. Yet if you admit their
usefulness, you must also admit the possibility of revelation. If we, being
flesh, exist and can exercise power, it is eminently possible – if not probable
– that others exist, more powerful, undefined by mere flesh. It is the height
of narcissism to imagine that our evanescent brain acts as a cap or summit
upon the vicissitudes of possible existence. And if the spirits of our free and
accepted fraternities of grimoire literatures prove objective to us, the
possibility also arises for an encounter with deeper things. I refer here to the
work of Austin Osman Spare and his symbol of Zos – already I have said
the beasts of Lovecraft are forms of Zos and its living, ubiquitous flesh-
beyond-flesh. They are also forms of the Kia – or, rather, places of
formlessness, beyond form. Any encounter with such realities will come
with certain signatures – signatures which occur quite vividly in Lovecraft's
writings. Not every ostensibly spiritual corner of our universe need be
encountered by rigid evocatory ceremonies. Dreams, hallucinations, break-
downs or seemingly causeless visions and reveries – all these may grant us
a view of the cosmic nightmare. Metaphysics can intrude in any number of
ways. . .

The real and decisive proof is in the work itself. Evoke and see. I anticipate
that anyone who purchased this work or lucked upon it during a free
promotion is already somewhat charmed by Lovecraft's works and would, if
possible, delight in the evocation of his pantheon If you, like I, have been
dissatisfied with previous offerings of Lovecraftian magick, I hope this
work proves a suitable substitute. And if not, perhaps at the very least it will
inspire you to innovate your own experiments – but, trust me, try exactly
what I say, as I say it, and see for yourself how "real" or "unreal" this game
is.