Magic & Politics

[Mighty_Emperor]

Rivals Use Witchcraft - Arua MP



The Monitor (Kampala)

July 6, 2004
Posted to the web July 6, 2004

Kefa Atibuni
Arua

The MP for the municipality, Said Nanur Okuti, has said he could not visit his constituency regularly because his opponents are using witchcraft against him.

Okuti was speaking to journalists at Arua airfield on Sunday. "There was a threat to kill me, but now they have resorted to the use of witchcraft. They drop a head of a cat, dead pigeons, chicken heads and charms in the compound," he said.

He said when he is in Arua he does not sleep in his home because he fears that the witches can attack him in the night. " I used not to fear these things but of recent my younger brother became mentally ill and my sister also fell sick. All this started when I declared my intention to contest the parliamentary seat in 1998. My other brother fell sick in 1999 and died in 2000," he said.

"A week when I thought of coming to Arua, my son of ten years fell in a 30-feet pit, but miraclously survived with a dislocation in the hip. And three others fell sick and have all been admitted to hospital," Okuti said. He said he is not suspecting those with whom he contested the parliamentary seat, but new comers.

http://allafrica.com/stories/200407060631.html

 

[Mighty_Emperor]

Saturday, July 17, 2004

Witness: Minister used witchcraft in poll

By Willis Oketch

Foreign Affairs minister Ali Chirao Mwakwere used witchcraft to scare away voters in Matuga constituency during the last General Election, a witness has claimed.

The witness said in a petition affidavit that Mwakwere, who won the Matuga seat on a Narc ticket, planted witchcraft paraphernalia near polling stations on the eve of the voting day.

The claims were made by a Kanu Parliamentary loser, Mr Hassan Mwanyoha, who has filed a petition seeking to nullify the election of Mwakwere.

Mwanyoha is represented by Mutula Kilonzo.

He was defeated by Mwakwere with 159 votes which he claims were unfairly added on to the minister’s tally illegally.

Mwanyoha told Justice David Magara that Mwakwere’s agents criss-crossed the constituency on the eve of election planting "demonic substances" in polling stations.

He claims the act psychologically traumatised would-be voters who "did not vote with their conscience".

But in his defence, already filed in preparation for Monday’s full hearing, Mwakwere denies the claims and asks Mwanyoha to prove his case. Mwakwere is represented by Gikandi Ngibuini.

Mwanyoha claimed that Mwakwere personally bribed voters on their way to polling stations.

He has listed more than 10 witnesses who claim they saw Mwakwere bribing voters. Mwanyoha says the witnesses will testify that Mwakwere slaughtered animals, which were allegedly buried at some polling stations to intimidate the voters.

The petitioner claimed there was massive rigging and that the election was unfairly conducted. He further claims that the counting of votes and the voting was influenced in favour of Mwakwere, who was not popular.

He further claims that ballot papers were tampered with at the polling station to favour Mwakwere adding that the counting was wrongly done and interfered with in various polling station where his agents were not allowed to be in the polling stations.

He said he will also call 79 voters who were turned away from various polling stations because their names were missing and yet they are registered voters.

Among the polling stations in which the petitioner says voters were seen being bribed are Tiwi, Mwachema, Kirodi, Vunga, Mwadudu and others.

Mwanyoha says he will call witnesses who allegedly saw Mwakwere giving voters bribes at Kirodi Tiwi and Mwachema polling stations.

He is seeking orders for the scrutiny of the Parliamentary civic and presidential ballot papers .

http://www.eastandard.net/headlines/news17070412.htm

 

[Anonymous]

I have a large collection of esoterical material my self.. gathered from an early age.. yet i don't practice it due to my own cynicsm.

I guess what i'm wanting to ask is this: (apologies if i should have put this as a seperate post)

IF magic, whether it be from witchcraft or the cermonial magician actually works (Basically - SPELLS)- Then how come so few (compared to world population) actually practice it and reap the benefits?

For Example.. - A new scientific breakthrough happens.. and the world is informed.

Why then.. if magic really works, is this not broadcast to the world as well.. i.e: This spell REALLY DOES do.............. and improves your life/the life of others.?

 

[CygnusRex]

And of course there was Houdin (featured recently in FT) this is his Algeria exploits in his own words:

Chapter III

The Magician Who Became an Ambassador


It is not generally known that Robert-Houdin once rendered his country an important service as special envoy to Algeria. Half a century ago this colony was an endless source of trouble to France. Although the rebel Arab chieftain Abd-del-Kader had surrendered in 1847, an irregular warfare was kept up against the French authority by the native Kabyles, stimulated by their Mohammedan priests, and particularly through so-called "miracles," such as recovery from wounds and burns self-inflicted by the Marabouts and other fanatic devotees of the Prophet.

Thus in 1856 the hopes of the French Foreign Office rested on Robert-Houdin. He was requested to exhibit his tricks in the most impressive form possible, with the idea of proving to the deluded Arabs that they had been in error in ascribing supernatural powers to their holy men.

It was settled that I should reach Algiers by the next 27th of September, the day on which the great fetes annually offered by the capital of Algeria to the Arabs would commence.

I must say that I was much influenced in my determination by the knowledge that my mission to Algeria had a quasi-political character. I, a simple conjurer, was proud of being able to render my country a service.

It is known that the majority of revolts which have to be suppressed in Algeria are excited by intriguers, who say they are inspired by the Prophet, and are regarded by the Arabs as envoys of God on earth to deliver them from the oppression of the Roumi (Christians).

These false prophets and holy Marabouts, who are no more sorcerers than I am, and indeed even less so, still contrive to influence the fanaticism of their coreligionists by tricks as primitive as are the spectators before whom they are performed.

The government was, therefore, anxious to destroy their pernicious influence, and reckoned on me to do so. They hoped, with reason, by the aid of my experiments, to prove to the Arabs that the tricks of their Marabouts were mere child's play, and owing to their simplicity could not be done by an envoy from Heaven, which also led us very naturally to show them that we are their superiors in everything, and, as for sorcerers, there are none like the French.

Presently I will show the success obtained by these skillful tactics.

Three months were to elapse between the day of my acceptance and that of my departure which I employed in arranging a complete arsenal of my best tricks, and left St. Gervais on the 10th of September.

I will give no account of my passage, further than to say no sooner was I at sea than I wished I had arrived, and, after thirty-six hours' navigation, I greeted the capital of our colony with indescribable delight.

On the 28th of October, the day appointed for my first performance before the Arabs, I reached my post at an early hour, and could enjoy the sight of their entrance into the theater.

Each goum,[1] drawn up in companies, was introduced separately, and led in perfect order to the places chosen for it in advance. Then came the turn of the chiefs, who seated themselves with all the gravity becoming their character.

[1] Brigade of native soldiers under French command. It was this influential native faction that the Foreign Office wished particularly to impress, through Robert-Houdin's skill.--EDITOR.

Their introduction lasted some time, for these sons of nature could not understand that they were boxed up thus, side by side, to enjoy a spectacle, and our comfortable seats, far from seeming so to them, bothered them strangely. I saw them fidgeting about for some time, and trying to tuck their legs under them, after the fashion of European tailors.

The caids, agas, bash-agas, and other titled Arabs, held the places of honor, for they occupied the orchestra stalls and the dress circle.

In the midst of them were several privileged officers, and, lastly, the interpreters were mingled among the spectators, to translate my remarks to them.

I was also told that several curious people, having been unable to procure tickets, had assumed the Arab burnous, and, binding the camel's-hair cord round their foreheads, had slipped in among their new coreligionists.

This strange medley of spectators was indeed a most curious sight. The dress circle, more especially, presented an appearance as grand as it was imposing. Some sixty Arab chiefs, clothed in their red mantles (the symbol of their submission to France), on which one or more decorations glistened, gravely awaited my performance with majestic dignity.

I have performed before many brilliant assemblies, but never before one which struck me so much as this. However, the impression I felt on the rise of the curtain, far from paralyzing me, on the contrary inspired me with a lively sympathy for the spectators, whose faces seemed so well prepared to accept the marvels promised them. As soon as I walked on the stage, I felt quite at my ease, and enjoyed, in anticipation, the sight I was going to amuse myself with.

I felt, I confess, rather inclined to laugh at myself and my audience, for I stepped forth, wand in hand, with all the gravity of a real Sorcerer. Still, I did not give way, for I was here not merely to amuse a curious and kind public, I must produce a startling effect upon coarse minds and prejudices, for I was enacting the part of a French Marabout.

Compared with the simple tricks of their pretended sorcerers, my experiments must appear perfect miracles to the Arabs.

I commenced my performance in the most profound, I might almost say religious, silence, and the attention of the spectators was so great that they seemed petrified. Their fingers alone moving nervously, played with the beads of their rosaries, while they were, doubtless, invoking the protection of the Most High.

This apathetic condition did not suit me, for I had not come to Algeria to visit a waxwork exhibition. I wanted movement, animation, life in fact, around me.

I changed my batteries, and, instead of generalizing my remarks, I addressed them more especially to some of the Arabs, whom I stimulated by my words, and still more by my actions. The astonishment then gave way to a more expressive feeling, which was soon evinced by noisy outbursts.

This was especially the case when I produced cannon balls from a hat, for my spectators, laying aside their gravity, expressed their delighted admiration by the strangest and most energetic gestures.

Then came--greeted by the same success--the bouquet of flowers, produced instantaneously from a hat; the CORNUCOPIA, supplying a multitude of objects which I distributed, though unable to satisfy the repeated demands made on all sides, and still more by those who had their hands full already; the FIVE-FRANC PIECES, sent across the theater with a crystal box suspended above the spectators.

One trick I should much have liked to perform was the INEXHAUSTIBLE BOTTLE, so appreciated by the Parisians and the Manchester "hands"; but I could not employ it in this performance, for it is well known the followers of Mohammed drink no fermented liquor--at least not publicly. Hence, I substituted the following with considerable advantage:

I took a silver cup, like those called "punch bowls" in the Parisian cafes. I unscrewed the foot, and passing my wand through it showed that the vessel contained nothing; then, having refitted the two parts, I went to the center of the pit, when, at my command, the bowl was MAGICALLY filled with sweetmeats, which were found excellent.

The sweetmeats exhausted, I turned the bowl over, and proposed to fill it with excellent coffee; so, gravely passing my hand thrice over the bowl, a dense vapor immediately issued from it, and announced the presence of the precious liquid. The bowl was full of boiling coffee, which I poured into cups, and offered to my astounded spectators.

The first cups were only accepted, so to speak, under protest; for not an Arab would consent to moisten his lips with a beverage which he thought came straight from Shaitan's kitchen; but, insensibly seduced by the perfume of their favorite liquor, and urged by the interpreters, some of the boldest decided on tasting the magic liquor, and all soon followed their example.

The vessel, rapidly emptied, was repeatedly filled again with equal rapidity; and it satisfied all demands, like my inexhaustible bottle, and was borne back to the stage still full.

But it was not enough to amuse my spectators; I must also, in order to fulfill the object of my mission, startle and even terrify them by the display of a supernatural power.

My arrangements had all been made for this purpose, and I had reserved for the end of my performances three tricks, which must complete my reputation as a sorcerer.

Many of my readers will remember having seen at my performances a small but solidly built box, which, being handed to the spectators, becomes heavy or light at my order; a child might raise it with ease, and yet the most powerful man could not move it from its place.

I advanced, with my box in my hand, to the center of the "practicable," communicating from the stage to the pit; then, addressing the Arabs, I said to them:

"From what you have witnessed, you will attribute a supernatural power to me, and you are right. I will give you a new proof of my marvelous authority, by showing that I can deprive the most powerful man of his strength and restore it at my will. Anyone who thinks himself strong enough to try the experiment may draw near me." (I spoke slowly, in order to give the interpreter time to translate my words.)

An Arab of middle height, but well built and muscular, like many of the Arabs are, came to my side with sufficient assurance.

"Are you very strong?" I said to him, measuring him from head to foot.

"Oh, yes!" he replied carelessly.

"Are you sure you will always remain so?"

"Quite sure."

"You are mistaken, for in an instant I will rob you of your strength, and you shall become as a little child."

The Arab smiled disdainfully as a sign of his incredulity.

"Stay," I continued; "lift up this box."

The Arab stooped, lifted up the box, and said to me, coldly, "Is that all?"

"Wait--!" I replied.

Then, with all possible gravity, I made an imposing gesture, and solemnly pronounced the words:

"Behold! you are weaker than a woman; now, try to lift the box."

The Hercules, quite cool as to my conjuration, seized the box once again by the handle, and gave it a violent tug, but this time the box resisted, and, spite of his most vigorous attacks, would not budge an inch.

The Arab vainly expended on this unlucky box a strength which would have raised an enormous weight, until, at length, exhausted, panting, and red with anger, he stopped, became thoughtful, and began to comprehend the influences of magic.

He was on the point of withdrawing; but that would be allowing his weakness, and that he, hitherto respected for his vigor, had become as a little child. This thought rendered him almost mad.

Deriving fresh strength from the encouragements his friends offered him by word and deed, he turned a glance round them, which seemed to say: "You will see what a son of the desert can do."

He bent once again over the box: his nervous hands twined round the handle, and his legs, placed on either side like two bronze columns, served as a support for the final effort.

But, wonder of wonders! this Hercules, a moment since so strong and proud, now bows his head; his arms, riveted to the box, undergo a violent muscular contraction; his legs give way, and he falls on his knees with a yell of agony!

An electric shock, produced by an inductive apparatus, had been passed, on a signal from me, from the further end of the stage into the handle of the box. Hence the contortions of the poor Arab!

It would have been cruelty to prolong this scene.

I gave a second signal, and the electric current was immediately intercepted. My athlete, disengaged from his terrible bondage, raised his hands over his head.

"Allah! Allah!" he exclaimed, full of terror; then wrapping himself up quickly in the folds of his burnous, as if to hide his disgrace, he rushed through the ranks of the spectators and gained the front entrance.

With the exception of my stage boxes and the privileged spectators who appeared to take great pleasure in this experiment, my audience had become grave and silent, and I heard the words "Shaitan!" "Djenoum!" passing in murmur round the circle of credulous men, who, while gazing on me, seemed astonished that I possessed none of the physical qualities attributed to the angel of darkness.

I allowed my public a few moments to recover from the emotion produced by my experiment and the flight of the herculean Arab.

One of the means employed by the Marabouts to gain influence in the eyes of the Arabs is by causing a belief in their invulnerability.

One of them, for instance, ordered a gun to be loaded and fired at him from a short distance, but in vain did the flint produce a shower of sparks; the Marabout pronounced some cabalistic words, and the gun did not explode.

The mystery was simple enough; the gun did not go off because the Marabout had skillfully stopped up the vent.

Colonel de Neven explained to me the importance of discrediting such a miracle by opposing to it a sleight-of-hand trick far superior to it, and I had the very article.

I informed the Arabs that I possessed a talisman rendering me invulnerable, and I defied the best marksman in Algeria to hit me.

I had hardly uttered the words when an Arab, who had attracted my notice by the attention he had paid to my tricks, jumped over four rows of seats, and disdaining the use of the "practicable," crossed the orchestra, upsetting flutes, clarionets, and violins, escaladed the stage, while burning himself at the footlights, and then said, in excellent French:

"I will kill you!"

An immense burst of laughter greeted both the Arab's picturesque ascent and his murderous intentions, while an interpreter who stood near me told me I had to deal with a Marabout.

"You wish to kill me!" I replied, imitating his accent and the inflection of his voice. "Well, I reply, that though you are a sorcerer, I am still a greater one, and you will not kill me."

I held a cavalry pistol in my hand, which I presented to him.

"Here, take this weapon, and assure yourself it has undergone no preparation."

The Arab breathed several times down the barrel, then through the nipple, to assure himself there was a communication between them, and after carefully examining the pistol, said:

"The weapon is good, and I will kill you."

"As you are determined, and for more certainty, put in a double charge of powder, and a wad on the top."

"It is done."

"Now, here is a leaden ball; mark it with your knife, so as to be able to recognize it, and put it in the pistol, with a second wad."

"It is done."

"Now that you are quite sure your pistol is loaded, and that it will explode, tell me, do you feel no remorse, no scruple about killing me thus, although I authorize you to do so?"

"No, for I wish to kill you," the Arab repeated coldly.

Without replying, I put an apple on the point of a knife, and, standing a few yards from the Marabout, ordered him to fire.

"Aim straight at the heart," I said to him.

My opponent aimed immediately, without the slightest hesitation.

The pistol exploded, and the bullet lodged in the center of the apple.

I carried the talisman to the Marabout, who recognized the ball he had marked.

I could not say that this trick produced greater stupefaction than the ones preceding it: at any rate, my spectators, palsied by surprise and terror, looked round in silence, seeming to think, "Where the deuce have we got to here!"

A pleasant scene, however, soon unwrinkled many of their faces. The Marabout, though stupefied by his defeat, had not lost his wits; so, profiting by the moment when he returned me the pistol, he seized the apple, thrust it into his waist belt, and could not be induced to return it, persuaded as he was that he possessed in it an incomparable talisman.

For the last trick in my performance I required the assistance of an Arab.

At the request of several interpreters, a young Moor, about twenty years of age, tall, well built, and richly dressed, consented to come on the stage. Bolder and more civilized, doubtless, than his comrades of the plains, he walked firmly up to me.

I drew him toward the table that was in the center of the stage, and pointed out to him and to the other spectators that it was slightly built and perfectly isolated. After which, without further preface, I told him to mount upon it, and covered him with an enormous cloth cone, open at the top.

Then, drawing the cone and its contents on to a plank, the ends of which were held by my servant and myself, we walked to the footlights with our heavy burden, and upset it. The Moor had disappeared--the cone was perfectly empty!

Immediately there began a spectacle which I shall never forget.

The Arabs were so affected by this last trick, that, impelled by an irresistible feeling of terror, they rose in all parts of the house, and yielded to the influence of a general panic. To tell the truth, the crowd of fugitives was densest at the door of the dress circle, and it could be seen, from the agility and confusion of these high dignitaries, that they were the first to wish to leave the house.

Vainly did one of them, the Caid of the Beni-Salah, more courageous than his colleagues, try to restrain them by his words:

"Stay! stay! we cannot thus lose one of our coreligionists. Surely we must know what has become of him, or what has been done to him. Stay! stay!"

But the coreligionists only ran away the faster, and soon the courageous caid, led away by their example, followed them.

They little knew what awaited them at the door of the theater; but they had scarce gone down the steps when they found themselves face to face with the "resuscitated Moor."

The first movement of terror overcome, they surrounded the man, felt and cross-questioned him; but, annoyed by these repeated questions, he had no better recourse than to escape at full speed.

The next evening the second performance took place, and produced nearly the same effect as the previous one.

The blow was struck: henceforth the interpreters and all those who had dealings with the Arabs received orders to make them understand that my pretended miracles were only the result of skill, inspired and guided by an art called prestidigitation, in no way connected with sorcery.

The Arabs doubtless yielded to these arguments, for henceforth I was on the most friendly terms with them. Each time a chief saw me, he never failed to come up and press my hand. And, even more, these men whom I had so terrified, when they became my friends, gave me a precious testimony of their esteem--I may say, too, of their admiration, for that is their own expression.

 

[austen27]

I'm not sure how much truth there is in this:

http://members.tripod.com/pagan_relief/Pages/coming_out.htm

But perhaps the most extreme example of the link between superstition and politics was the revelation that former Northern Ireland secretary Peter Mandelson allegedly attended a voodoo ceremony in Brazil, during which a chicken was sacrificed. Some said that he had also used a Brazilian witch doctor to ward off spin doctor and arch rival Charlie Whelan – and was then strangely promoted back into the cabinet.

There is more about politicians and magic on the page.

 

[Mighty_Emperor]

ONYX: It has come up in connection with Gordon Rutter's article in FT about magic and war (and I'm sure in a number of threads) the point being that the magic itself doesn't have to 'work' as long as the people it is being used against believe it does work. In the first two stories the fear of witchcraft kept someone away from ther constituency (by making them link potentially unconnected events into a 'pattern') or kept voters away from the ballot boxes (respectively) so in essence they did work but more indirectly.

Austen: Great find - I know someone who knows Mandy and I'll have to send that too him - he'll enjoy that!!

 

[Mighty_Emperor]

And on the wider point see the "Does Magick Work?" thread:

http://www.forteantimes.com/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=4587

 

[Mighty_Emperor]

Poll loser alleges bizarre rite as he files petition

Judy Ogutu

Kisauni MP-elect and his supporters took a bizarre oath under the Nyali bridge on the eve of the by-election, Narc loser Ali Joho has claimed.

Mr Joho, who has moved to court, seeking to nullify the election of Mr Anania Mwaboza, said the latter and his supporters sewed up the eyes of three cows before drowning them in the sea to cast a spell on voters.

He also wants the High Court to order a recount, scrutiny and reconciliation of all ballot papers cast during the December 16 by-election.

Joho is further demanding to see the counterfoils and register of the votes cast on that day.

Mwaboza got 8, 374 while Joho came close with 7, 293.

Mwaboza was elected on a National Labour Party (NLP) ticket. In the election petition filed on December 24, Joho has named returning officer Hotham Nyange as the first respondent and Mwaboza as the second.

He claims the election was unfair and that it was "tainted and marred with irreparable irregularities."

The alleged irregularities range from violence, oathing and "chasing of voters."

He also claims that Mwaboza brought in voters from Malindi and Msambweni.

The businessman claims Nyange failed to open the polling stations on time and hurriedly closed them, barring many people, most of whom he claimed were his supporters, from voting.

He claims Nyange failed to ensure security at some polling stations where his agents were allegedly chased away by Mwaboza’s agents.

Joho alleges Mwaboza moved around polling stations to campaign and incite his supporters to violence on the election day.

Source

 

[uair01]

An experiment. Searching some non-magical books (also political books) for "magic". First example:

BRUNO MAÇÃES
History Has Begun
The Birth of a New America
Chapter 8:

Thiel, an incorrigible Tolkien fan, wanted to create a company capable of using new data mining and data analytics technology to solve problems of law enforcement, national security, military tactics and strategy, even foreign policy. He called it Palantir, after the magical stones in The Lord of the Rings allowing their holders to see across vast distances and spy on their enemies. To see into distant countries, into cyberspace, into financial markets. There is at least one passage where someone uses the stone to see the future. Knowledge of the future before it happens. The ultimate weapon.

Palantir does not want to create a world where machines rule, where everything is predetermined and human beings become redundant. The world to come is a world ruled by human brings endowed with supernatural powers, a magical world where many may even rise above human limitations, but the mind to rule them all will be very different from an algorithm. Intuition, brilliance, genius. These qualities must be saved and, if saved, they can save the world.

I looked at the screen. It could be a battlefield in the desert, possibly Iraq or Syria. A mud construction with a collapsed block stood in the middle of the screen, like a lost Tetris piece. Behind it a landscape of rocky hills and a paved road, uneven and covered in dust. A station on a hot day’s way. Then, with just a click, the screen dimmed, changing to an aerial map. All the available data on the mud house started scrolling on the right. Whether it had ever been mentioned in intelligence reports, whether any phone calls had been traced to that location and what suspicious activity had been recorded there in thousands of satellite images in the past. If a truck had been spotted, where else had it been spotted? And whom had the owner of the truck called and where had they been in turn? You see, even a mud house has a life in cyberspace.
= = = = =

Despite the closure of Walt Disney World during the novel coronavirus pandemic, security guards continued to raise the American flag each and every day as an inspiring symbol of perseverance.

In a different country, there might have been second thoughts about the idea. Everything is fake at Disneyland. Might it not have been better to cut all relations with the magic kingdom while the country faced a very real and very serious threat? A flag in a public building is a symbol. A flag in Disneyland is a symbol of a symbol, just as a castle is not a real castle but a symbol of a castle. In a more serious country, these games might appear too playful, even dangerous, suggesting a certain inability to distinguish between fantasy and reality. But in America they made sense. Disneyland was putting up a “symbolic resistance,” just what was needed to show that the country was not about to lose its war with reality. An Alabama man went so far as to run away from the virus by camping out at Discovery Island, an abandoned attraction at Walt Disney World that once boasted a flamingo lagoon, a turtle beach and an alligator swamp.

 

[uair01]

Wow this is weird
I'm searching for "magic" in books I have on my harddisk, but that I have never read. I'm surprised at finding this:

They have arrived on the other side of the object. Where, supposedly, should be the void of nothing, they are discovering another subject. They are called the idiot gods of Lovecraft — the Old Ones — the figures that are beyond the objects, but at the same time inside of them. So the objects are liberated from the human subject, from humanity, and they open their hidden dimension, which is the real Devil. Object-oriented ontology is a kind of premonition or foreseeing of the advent of the philosophical Devil. [...] analytical philosophy, which has prepared the territory for this non-human way of thought — artificial intelligence that could exist without humans and without life on earth.

So with object-oriented ontology, we’re dealing with the real truth, not with a lie. For the first time, modernity has told the truth about itself. What was before was a lie of modernity. Modernity lied to everybody. “Oh, we’re in favour of humanity. We’re in favour of life. We are trying to liberate human beings and nature from the transcendental fascist God”. That was a lie and not in favour of humanity but against humanity and God. The main idea was to liberate the Devil from the chains with which he was fixed in Hell. This was the liberation of the Devil, not of man, and now comes the moment to liberate the Devil from humanity and life. And that is object-oriented ontology that clearly, openly, explicitly affirms that, and they are object-oriented philosophers. [...]

[...] Modernity from the very beginning was a satanic creation, and that is the main traditional line. Now there appear among the most progressivist philosophers schools of thought that say the same, but in favour of Satan. It is not Aleister Crowley or black masses or LaVey — the real black magic is modern science and modern culture. Modern civilisation is a kind of preparation for the advent of the Antichrist, and Islamic tradition identifies it as Dajjal. Christians see it as the Antichrist. I think that this appeal to Lovecraft, to black magic and to the extermination of mankind and nature is disclosed by Nick Land as the real nature of science and modernity as well, and this is why it serves the Great Awakening.

 

[kamalktk]

An experiment. Searching some non-magical books (also political books) for "magic". First example:

BRUNO MAÇÃES
History Has Begun
The Birth of a New America
Chapter 8:

Thiel, an incorrigible Tolkien fan, wanted to create a company capable of using new data mining and data analytics technology to solve problems of law enforcement, national security, military tactics and strategy, even foreign policy. He called it Palantir, after the magical stones in The Lord of the Rings allowing their holders to see across vast distances and spy on their enemies. To see into distant countries, into cyberspace, into financial markets. There is at least one passage where someone uses the stone to see the future. Knowledge of the future before it happens. The ultimate weapon.

Palantir does not want to create a world where machines rule, where everything is predetermined and human beings become redundant. The world to come is a world ruled by human brings endowed with supernatural powers, a magical world where many may even rise above human limitations, but the mind to rule them all will be very different from an algorithm. Intuition, brilliance, genius. These qualities must be saved and, if saved, they can save the world.

I looked at the screen. It could be a battlefield in the desert, possibly Iraq or Syria. A mud construction with a collapsed block stood in the middle of the screen, like a lost Tetris piece. Behind it a landscape of rocky hills and a paved road, uneven and covered in dust. A station on a hot day’s way. Then, with just a click, the screen dimmed, changing to an aerial map. All the available data on the mud house started scrolling on the right. Whether it had ever been mentioned in intelligence reports, whether any phone calls had been traced to that location and what suspicious activity had been recorded there in thousands of satellite images in the past. If a truck had been spotted, where else had it been spotted? And whom had the owner of the truck called and where had they been in turn? You see, even a mud house has a life in cyberspace.
= = = = =

Despite the closure of Walt Disney World during the novel coronavirus pandemic, security guards continued to raise the American flag each and every day as an inspiring symbol of perseverance.

In a different country, there might have been second thoughts about the idea. Everything is fake at Disneyland. Might it not have been better to cut all relations with the magic kingdom while the country faced a very real and very serious threat? A flag in a public building is a symbol. A flag in Disneyland is a symbol of a symbol, just as a castle is not a real castle but a symbol of a castle. In a more serious country, these games might appear too playful, even dangerous, suggesting a certain inability to distinguish between fantasy and reality. But in America they made sense. Disneyland was putting up a “symbolic resistance,” just what was needed to show that the country was not about to lose its war with reality. An Alabama man went so far as to run away from the virus by camping out at Discovery Island, an abandoned attraction at Walt Disney World that once boasted a flamingo lagoon, a turtle beach and an alligator swamp.

Peter Thiel, like Elon, could probably have his own thread here. Also he probably shouldn't have named the company after the panopticon used by the bad guys in Lord of the Rings.