Austin Osman Spare - Anathema Of Zos : The Sermon To The Hypocrite
Magickal currents pass as the Great Wheel swings endlessly to and fro
driven by words of power whose origin is inestimable. Spare was a watcher on
the threshold. AGAPE of the Christos had spent its force. It laid upon the land as a
shroud when once it had been a bright and shining spell of liberation. Under this
pall the scorpion bred consciousness in the charnel house of putrefaction.
Monsters arose and walked the earth in the guise of living men and women.
These are the hypocrites to whom the sermon was delivered. The goat-herd found
himself in a pigsty; speaking to swine bred on foul aethers. Where once there was
the sermon on the mount, now there need be a Sermon of the Midden. Zos eats
complacency and his leavings bear the name of Doubt. Zos heralds the onrush of
the Beast as John the Baptist once swept the path of the Christos. This time it is not
the oracles' head served upon the platter. Be not complacent. The anthem of Liber
L will, on Saturn’s touch, turn its melody inward and become a funeral dirge of
the Soul. If there is ought to be learnt it is this....we are the hypocrites to whom
Zos speaks. There is no hope. The Great Wheel turns. All that we love and will is