Awakening from the Matrix

Deconstructing cinematic and philosophical allegories of The Matrix, this chapter explores the illusion of free will within a systemic prison maintained by human helplessness. Rejecting both conformist sleep and naïve reformism, the text asserts that true liberation requires extra-systemic "madness," an acceptance of catastrophe, and an unhuman commitment to unplugging only the exceptional few who are capable of enduring absolute freedom.

Many claim that man has abused his power and the knowledge he possesses. Such a stance presupposes that the human being has some sort of free will and is thus capable of making choices or decisions. Humans have abused nothing; they have simply, as a species, been trampled by the life force. The liberation and growth of consciousness are possible only as an individual process, through individual effort. The collective can hope only for the further suppression of human cognitive and active powers. Occasionally and temporarily, the collective may enter into a state of infatuation or collective hysteria—some in that frenzy may fall into a trance—and that is essentially all. General trends are always in opposition to the liberating aspirations of individuals and communities. In most cases, human beings possess not free will, but a rudimentary will. If we had free will, nothing would constrain our existence. What we do have, however, is the possibility to forge a will that can be called free. That process is long and painstaking, requiring a lifelong commitment. On the other hand, the will is either free or it does not exist. In truth, we are speaking of a dormant will and an activated will. In this light, a parallel might be drawn between free (active) and un-free (dormant) will.

The existence of free will in man is not a fact, but a highly questionable matter. In that sense, I hold that the majority of human beings possess a dormant will. We are crushed by the life force because we have no control over life; rather, life happens to us. Beings to whom life merely happens do not possess an active will. Aleister Crowley stated that the majority of humanity consists of incompetent people unable to coordinate their mental muscles to make meaningful movements. According to him, most people do not possess a true will, but merely a tangle of desires, many of which are in mutual conflict. In one of his commentaries on his prophetic Book of the Law, Crowley, evaluating the current era, wrote that a danger unprecedented in history hangs over us. He observed a trend toward the growth and all-encompassing nature of new forms of restriction placed upon individuals, resulting in nations thinking like a herd. Yes, that is the consequence of mass psychology. Gustave Le Bon was the first to treat this subject in a modern manner.

Is every human truly a radical being endowed with the capabilities of a god, as the occultist Jack Parsons claimed? Why are these divine capabilities and powers in man so rarely manifested, while most specimens of the human race live anonymously in general levelness, deriving strength only in the mass, or within an order when organized by some political or religious power? Is man not, therefore, an apostate? Is this human apostasy not visible in the heavens as well, and not just on Earth?

Let us turn our gaze, for example, toward the constellation Corona Borealis. Within it, we see a circle, a crown, and a labyrinth. We see the initiatory trial of Theseus. We see the monster Minotaur. We see the halo of saints. We see the goddess Libera, but we also see a dungeon, a quarantine, the world of the dead, an arena of banishment and apostasy. We see the shape of Amenti, the shape of purgatory. And the time that has adorned itself with this symbol points to what is to come. Counter-initiation has constructed a prison complete with all its trials; initiation will find a path for the chosen few. The rest will fall to the Minotaur.

Institutions are monsters. They are the powerful collective expression of individual human helplessness. If people were powerful as individuals, no institutions would be necessary. In their totality, institutions constitute the system. That system is the expression of the omnipotence of human incompetence. The legendary film The Matrix depicted an extreme, futuristic form of the system's development, whose premises actually apply to the world we inhabit. Namely, people are asleep, overcome by the force of the system, lulled within it; hence, they must be awakened and shown the truth, for "the truth will set them free." What truth? Whose truth? Let us proceed step by step from the premises of awakening.

"The system is our enemy!" Such is the first premise of revolutionary awakening. That assertion needs no proof whatsoever. Our angst bears witness to it. Its truth is self-evident, no matter how much they try to convince us that this is one of the best possible systems despite all its flaws. Of course, we all know this, but essentially we fall for the first objection to this thesis. Yes, the system is bad, but what would be the alternative? Upon that question, a whole barrage of arguments and associative chains of horror rises against us, depicting monstrous alternatives and their catastrophic consequences. Thus, the development of conceiving and searching for an alternative is severed, at least among most systemic sleepers, its slaves, beneficiaries, and victims. And for the majority, that is the end. The edge of resistance, if not broken at its inception, is thoroughly blunted by presenting the question of not only what the alternative is, but who is part of that alternative.

If we have overcome the first obstacle regarding the initial premise, we arrive at the second premise, which demands the effort of empathetic immersion to achieve an observational distance: "When you are inside the system and look around, what do you see? You see businessmen, teachers, lawyers, workers. You see the very minds of the people we are trying to save." Thus Morpheus addresses Neo in the movie The Matrix. The premise points out that small, ordinary people just doing their jobs are the primary maintainers of this everyday horror. Hannah Arendt would agree with this. Small working people are the worker bees of the system, cogs in the machinery, anonymous apparatchiks, each in their own domain, profession, sense, or nonsense, fulfilling their assigned purpose. However, because this example of worker bees is drawn from a developed and conformist world, its scope is not comprehensive enough to convey the true magnitude of the system.

The system does not reach only where everything is orderly like a beehive, but also where disorder and lawlessness reign. Anarchy is also part of the system. In such cases, we speak of systemic anarchy. Hence, the homeless person—at first glance an outcast from the system—is also part of the system. Likewise, the illegal immigrant, the sufferer, the refugee, the unemployed, the prisoner, the criminal, the outcast, the stateless person, etc. All of them are also part of the system, caught in a network of complex relations that make their unenviable or horrific life situation—their social, economic, psychological, physical, and medical state—necessary components for the functioning of the system. Even those who rebel against the system and offer resistance are part of it. Everything and everyone is encompassed by a network of relationships, forms of public opinion, and institutions that constitute the system.

How, then, does one step out of the system at all? How does one liberate oneself or change the system? The final sentence of the premise regarding the conditioned minds of people who serve the system implies that stepping out of the system requires a kind of stepping out of the mind—a form of madness relative to the system. To exist outside the system is to dwell in madness.

On the surface of the system lies its ideology. We could engage in a broad discussion about what the ideology of the system is, but for our purposes, let it be its doctrine: an organized set of representations and axiomatic statements backed by corresponding narratives whose purpose is to hold the vast majority of minds within the framework necessary for the operation and maintenance of the system itself. For the ideology of the system, to be mad means to think outside its boundaries. Thinking extra-systemically means dwelling in madness. To a mind shaped to serve the system, thoughts, ideas, and behaviors whose foundations lie outside the system are manifestations or symptoms of madness. Minds conditioned to serve the system follow established tracks and models of thinking, imagining, and acting. Even their ostensible exit beyond the system is bounded by specific indicators and landmarks, thereby retaining them within the system and lulling their revolutionary potential to sleep. A mind shaped to serve the system is largely incapable of independent decision-making and thought, meaning it possesses a weak capacity of will. The system makes decisions for us; or rather, its institutions do. Therefore, stepping outside the mental framework of the system is not the same as exiting the system, but it is the first step.

"And these are the minds we need to save." Thus reads the next premise, which I will immediately link to the following one: "Until we do, these people are still a part of that system and that makes them our enemy. You have to understand, most of these people are not ready to be unplugged." Here we discern three key words: save, enemies, unplugged. Behind this stands a humanistic ethic—after all, this is Hollywood—that the enemy must be saved. We do not kill the enemy; we save him for his own good! Left hanging in the air is the question: on the path to saving the enemy, is it acceptable to kill those who stand as obstacles? And how many enemies is it acceptable to kill so that the rest may be saved? In general, what is the price of saving just one enemy? And what if practice demonstrates that saving one requires the liquidation of tens, hundreds, or even thousands of enemies? Will our revolutionary messianic mission remain unwavering then, or will it pause for calculation: how many dead for one saved?

I believe the system is so deeply rooted in the minds of people that it is practically impossible to destroy the system while having the majority of humanity survive it. That is why I have named the process of revolutionary liberation the revolution of catastrophe, for the path of liberation is catastrophe.

Unplugging someone abruptly from the system represents a catastrophe for that individual. Unplugging all people from the system is a general catastrophe. In this sense, the proponents of the system (as well as systemic alternatives) appear correct at first glance in claiming that the system has no alternative—that the alternative is, in fact, catastrophe, and it is therefore better to stick to the system, gradually repairing and perfecting it, rather than working toward its collapse. This is the seemingly wise path of so-called systemic reforms—an endless reformative process and never-completed work on perfecting something that cannot be perfect.

The question of fundamental method has always been the apple of discord between radical revolutionaries and moderate reformists. The path of the revolutionary is catastrophic, but can the same not be said of the path of reformists? The difference lies in the fact that the revolutionary approach causes catastrophe immediately, whereas reformists actually accumulate, time, and postpone the manifestation of catastrophic consequences, if possible, for the era after them. Reformists naively believe it is possible to create a better system and that it is possible, step by step, to liberate man by creating a different, improved system! They are horrified by revolutionary terror and anarchy, failing to see that their path is remarkably similar. From their standpoint, terror is also necessary, but it is controlled; anarchy is limited and localized. The path of reformists is paradoxical. They actually want a new and better system, yet the cumulative consequences of their method are catastrophe. It is a catastrophe without remainder, whereas a revolutionary catastrophe knows its price in advance—and that price is freedom for a small, chosen few.

In the underground haven of free people, Zion, in the film The Matrix, there actually dwells a very small number of awakened individuals compared to the overwhelming majority who sleep. Reformists actually want to liberate humanity as a whole, of course, with acceptable losses. Revolutionaries are not interested in humanity as such, but in the survival of the strong outside the system. Being free also means stepping outside the boundaries of humanity. Thus, exceptional individuals awaken—by themselves, or based on the mystical selection of the actors of the revolution.

Why is it necessary to adopt such an unhuman requirement of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe—to disregard those who are sleeping, who are plugged into the system? Not all people possess the capacity of personal traits necessary for the successful overthrow of the system, nor do they possess the capacity to comprehend and accept the truth that there is actually no truth. Truth exists only as a qualifier of a certain state. In that sense, we can speak of the truth about the system, but truth outside the system is not something graspable. Therefore, let us awaken only those who possess the potential for extra-systemic survival, while the rest do not concern us. The reason for this lies in the final selected premise: "Many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system, that they will fight to protect it."

Ultimately, why is it necessary to demolish the system at all? Why not simply abandon people to their fate, and why should those who have managed to exit the system bother with it at all, instead of setting sail toward the open sea of freedom without looking back?

I would say that this is the price of freedom. An individual may set sail toward the open sea of freedom, but he also has a duty toward those forces and entities that we may address as the lords of the universe. Freedom is a gift, and the gifts of the gods are not free.

Profile of the Aspirant of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe

This chapter outlines the psychological, esoteric, and character profile of the ideal aspirant within the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe—a solitary, highly disciplined, and unhuman individual predestined for antinomian action. Operating through absolute individualism, mimicry, and total independence from organized structures, the aspirant is called to transcend collective morality, embrace his own sovereign truth, and align his consciousness with the ultimate force governing life and death.

In this section, we will discuss several traits that, in my view, ought to characterize the aspirant of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe. These traits outline the character structure of a revolutionary who is also open to distinct marks of individuality. Joining the revolutionary core is not a matter of desire, conviction, or enthusiasm, but of predestination. One is predestined for it, or one is not—fatedly, genetically, or however one might frame it. Most are not.

Yet, that is not all. Even among those predestined for revolutionary action, among the majority of the predestined, the revolutionary mentality, lifestyle, way of thinking, and mode of operation remain unacceptable because, above all, it requires a renunciation of humanity. It is indeed a demanding requirement: to be unhuman. We see that, at least theoretically, the number of potential revolutionaries is extremely small, which suggests that the movement of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe is grounded in elitism and individualism. This movement is characterized by the absence of any organization, collectivity, or alignment on a visible level. A passion for subversion and conspiracy forms the foundation of revolutionary orientation and action. Nevertheless, this does not mean there is no place in the projection of the revolution for sympathizers, as well as for those who wish to derive some benefit from it. In certain aspects of revolutionary action, their involvement is possible, desirable, and sometimes even necessary.

Here I will elaborate on the profile of a lower aspirant of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe—that is, one who seeks entry into that part of its magical chain which I have designated as Ruach. I emphasize that these are by no means rigid rules, but rather my vision of an ideal candidate. Naturally, all manner of deviations are possible.

First, the revolutionary is a man—not in the sense of a macho type, but of the male sex, or more precisely, of unquestionable masculinity, possessing prevailing masculine traits in both character and anatomy: he is not effeminate in speech, gestures, or way of thinking, nor does he carry feminine traits in his physical build. Equally important, he is very young—perhaps an older teenager or a young adult. Sexual orientation is irrelevant, as the revolutionary may completely alter his sexual constitution at a later stage. What matters is that the aspirant has no doubts regarding his masculinity.

Second, our aspirant feels that he is somehow special, set apart, different, and even superior to other people in his environment; he feels that his true nature is constrained, prevented for some reason from expressing itself. He is aware of the symptoms of his giftedness and exceptionality, which manifest primarily in the breadth and depth of his interests and abilities. Constantly preoccupied with himself and his pursuits (centered upon himself, self-analysis, and the examination of his subjects of interest), he is also pervaded by a sense of being predestined, called, or ideal for some great human, cosmic, historical, divine, or demonic life mission to which he would devote himself entirely—yet he lacks a clear vision of what that mission actually is and what he specifically ought to do. In other words, he ought to suffer from an incubational messianic frustration, if I may put it that way. He knows he should dedicate his entire being to something, but he does not know precisely what that is.

Third, our aspirant finds himself in a perpetual crisis of identity. He possesses no reference point in his social environment with which he can fully identify. He feels no essential belonging to any social group, ideological identity, or political designation. Nor does he find himself within general developmental, esoteric, or occult categories. In everything, he might find something he could agree with, but an aversion to such classifications predominantly prevails within him. Hence, he feels he belongs nowhere. He feels no particular closeness even to the designation "human," considering the frustrating inadequacies of that form. Even his own name sometimes strikes him as laughable, grotesque, imposed, or ill-fitting (especially when spoken by others). He would prefer to be called something else, in harmony with what he deeply senses as his true nature, which fails to surface due to his fundamental lack of self-knowledge.

It follows from the preceding points that he is prone to convertism. Very early on, he began searching, wandering, and asking fateful and essential questions to which he received unsatisfactory answers, or no answers at all. He frequently changed his ideological, religious, and political convictions, growing passionately involved in and then disillusioned with various political, ideological, philosophical, cultural, religious, magical, or mystical movements, schools, and systems. All of them appeared approximately equally attractive, yet equally repulsive in their limitations. It seems to him that none of them are complete. Thus, over time, he acquired a certain indifference toward the seductiveness of human assertions, toward every school of thought or spirituality. None of those schools helped him achieve closure or completion in his aspirations and actions. Each offered a little, yet what they offered—given their mutual contradictions or incompatibility—caused more harm than good. Based on this, he was unable to finally define, reorganize, comprehend, and direct himself toward a path he could feel with his whole being to be correct. More precisely, none of those schools granted him that vital privilege of peacefully following his own "path of the heart" within a clear framework. For that path, he sincerely longs. In the meantime, he believes in nothing.

Having found himself nowhere—that is, as none of the possible teachings, ideologies, or worldviews reaching him corresponded to what he felt as his true path—he could not accept any specific ethical or moral system conveyed by those worldviews. Consequently, he longs to embrace an ethical code that aligns with what he deeply, albeit vaguely, senses. Lacking an identificatory reference point, it is natural that he possesses no morality, even though he genuinely feels its absence. He would prefer to construct his own moral code, as his moral void weighs heavily on him, but he lacks a guiding vision—though he certainly possesses the strength. He has no clear role model from which to derive a distinct and original morality. Others' morality appears shallow, primitive, or unattainable to him, while he lacks his own, despite striving to possess it.

Sixth, he possesses an enviable level of education. Regarding everything he has touched or learned—whether through literature, relationships with others, or by other means—he has contemplated deeply and drawn definitive conclusions. His broad education (largely self-taught) is the fruit of his interests and the effort invested in researching and mastering specific fields. He is passionately interested in history, religion, art, the works of prominent and alternative thinkers, philosophers, mystics, poets, mythology, occultism, politics, psychology, and the natural sciences. He searches for answers to fundamental questions. He engages, or attempts to engage, in some form of art—writing, painting, and the like—feeling a powerful creative urge.

Seventh, we may also describe him to a certain degree as a misanthrope. He generally fails to find people who match his interests, with whom he could share thoughts, experiences, or undertake joint actions. Typically, their scope of interest, thought, and action is significantly narrower or more focused than his own, which frustrates and inhibits him from opening up to them or being candid, as he sooner or later encounters a wall of incomprehension. Often, people cannot keep pace with him, let alone lead in that game, leading him to withdraw despite being essentially communicative, eloquent, and frequently charismatic. For these reasons, he harbors a slight contempt for people and a disgust for human limitations. Phrases like "killing time" or "boredom" evoke extreme revulsion in him, and people who are perpetually bored without company or who aimlessly waste time are, to him, inferior. Unlike them, he is always active. He feels the passage of time deeply and regrets the brevity of the day. Furthermore, his desire for company does not stem from boredom, but from a wish to share his intellectual or other achievements with others. He desires to teach, but also longs to be taught.

Through his self-directed education, he has acquired great discipline, recognizing the full importance of self-control and building an enviable level of work ethic. He knows how to establish priorities. He is dedicated to his intentions, research, and learning. He is conscious of and accepts full responsibility for his actions. He absolutely rejects any interference in his life, which he considers exclusively under his own authority and responsibility, and is prepared to bear the consequences. On top of this, he is endowed with "nerves of steel," immense patience, ambition, and the ability to pursue abstract goals. Whatever he engages in, he pours his whole self into. If he finds himself within the ideas of the Revolution, he will undoubtedly prove to be a fine soldier, if not a commander.

The advantage of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe over other conspiratorial, rebellious, or revolutionary endeavors lies primarily in its radically individual mode of action. Its routes are mapped by each individual revolutionary in accordance with his own will. The defining feature of the "inner revolutionary core" is the absence of any form of organized structure. Revolutionaries are scattered like stars. They do not even know one another, and if they do, they do not acknowledge each other—not because they are incapable of recognizing fellow members of the same mission, but because they choose not to. Each strives to direct revolutionary currents in his own manner; to that end, he may at some point initiate a future aspirant whom he will instruct, though this does not mean the junior will not one day cast aside his master's teaching if he deems it necessary. On the other hand, he will not seek out his revolutionary comrades, for they play different roles. He might chance upon them, but they will be divided by insurmountable barriers and differences.

For the aspirant of the Revolution, "spiritual solitude is a heavenly gift." This means he operates exclusively alone, dedicatedly, patiently, and with utmost discretion, even if he happens to be a public figure. As a personality, he holds no importance; anonymity applies specifically to his revolutionary commitment and action. A revolutionary is like a spy or an underground operative leading a double life. He must be prepared to make and honor his own decisions, for those decisions serve as the directives of revolutionary action. Once he commits to the Revolution as an all-encompassing path, he will no longer be able to live otherwise than in alignment with his choices. This means that the revolutionary initiate is given a free hand to direct the Revolution as he sees fit, for whatever he does will not be in essential conflict with the actions of another revolutionary. A free hand is the expression of his sovereignty, individuality, and selfhood.

A revolutionary operates based on his personal code, which is established as soon as he is recognized and accepted by the inner circle. He feels revulsion toward organized and group actions performed in the name of an ideal or deity—though for the sake of mimicry, he may join them, or even become their leader or founder, if he considers it necessary. Eventually, he will inevitably feel the unbearable weight of loneliness, and that is the pivotal moment: out of that solitude arises a need that can be interpreted only as the necessity for an Order to exist. A revolutionary Order whose continuity flows on a one-on-one basis. In this sense, the revolutionary becomes a frater superior to the revolutionary neophyte—he becomes his teacher, and the neophyte his student. There is only one teacher and only one student. There is no lateral branching, nor higher structures or hierarchies. Should that occur, the Revolution comes to nothing. Tradition proceeds on a one-on-one basis, or exceptionally, one-on-two.

Tenth, we emphasize his inclination toward mimicry, in the sense of feigning and acting to fulfill his intentions. He can act contrary to his convictions, passionately arguing a standpoint that conflicts with his own. He is even capable, if he deems it necessary, of acting against his own feelings. In his behavioral patterns and speech, he is infinitely inventive.

In line with the above, the initiate of the revolution is also emotionally "untouchable." This does not mean he is devoid of emotion. He feels empathy, knows how to love, to be devoted, to feel disgust, sadness, rage, or longing—but he does not surrender to these feelings. He does not succumb to them. He is capable of channeling them in a functional manner. Because of this, he cannot be fundamentally hurt, offended, or shaken by events around him—which does not imply he is fearless or a coward. Nevertheless, he can be a sincere friend, a loyal enemy, a faithful husband, or a good father; yet without blinking, he can abandon everything—including the Revolution and ultimately himself—if he so decides.

In a sense, he is a fatalist. He is conscious of the constant and immediate proximity of infinity, fate, and death. He senses that his soul is very old, making him fundamentally indifferent to his own fate and to the fate of all those he knows, is close to, or stands in hostile or neutral relation to. Hence, he remains indifferent to concepts such as success, failure, and the like.

Much more could be added to the profile of a hypothetical revolutionary. What I consider essential at this time is that this doctrinal theory be neither dismissed nor fully embraced by the reader. The important thing is that someone, somewhere, at some point, adopts the mode of thought presented in this book—not my premises, derivations, conclusions, interpretations, or goals, but merely the mode of thought itself. That step alone is a revolutionary act. It will inevitably give birth to new doctrines, both theoretical and practical, forged by others. Yet it is not the doctrines that matter, nor the actions undertaken or refrained from by their creators and followers; what matters is spreading the mode of thought.

If you must die, do so with your own truth in your heart and mind, not with the truths of others. Whether that was a wise choice or a fruitful endeavor will reveal itself to you alone. In the light of others' truths, nothing will be revealed to you. Think, even if it be in vain. Your truth—and yours alone—is the only wealth you can truly possess, the only thing that is genuinely yours, which no one can take from you. Everything else is irrelevant. At the moment of your death, your truth has two choices: either to die with you, or to continue its life. That depends entirely on you.

As individuals, we are unique and unrepeatable. Our life is unique and unrepeatable. The purpose of human life is to feed, with oneself and the content of one's consciousness, the force that stands behind life and death. Our goal as revolutionaries is to identify with that force. That force is both personal and impersonal, individual and collective, fathomable and unfathomable, existing and non-existing. With its aid, we can fulfill our mission; we can die in the body while remaining seemingly alive. And when we physically pass away, we can persist un-dead, because as such we became during life.

Introduction to the Doctrine of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe

"Humanity must be surpassed by strength, by height of soul, by contempt..."

— Friedrich Nietzsche, The Antichrist

In this introductive chapter, the foundational tenets of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe are unveiled—a radical, antinomian doctrine born from personal trauma and cosmic vision. Rejecting anthropocentrism, collective illusions, and conventional morality, the text calls upon the solitary individual to embrace radical individualism, navigate the entropic decay of existence, and cultivate an inner, invincible light amidst gathering cosmic darkness.

Some thirty years have passed—and I will soon be more than double the age I was then—since the vision of a general course of world events completely possessed me, shook me, and permanently directed my pursuits and actions. From this temporal vantage point, that idea seems naive, yet I now see its power in a clearer light. During my student days, I was exposed to a traumatic event to which my mind responded by forming a single, destructive thought that encompassed the entire universe. Driven by the energy of that trauma, I wished for the end of humanity, realizing that something is fundamentally wrong with human beings and that they can by no means be repaired. Perhaps rare individuals can be, but not the human race as a whole.

To reinforce that thought, I set out to find arguments to support it. I then arranged those arguments into a structured order and thus outlined a doctrine. In the meantime, I infused it with initial energy by linking it with the energy of something I might call immanent fateful forces, given that the trauma had bound me to them. Thus was born the worldview that stands behind a specific esoteric revolutionary action known as the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe.

The intention of the revolution so named is neither noble nor progressive, but corrective. I had a clear vision of the arrival of a corrective force that would destroy humanity, yet still grant a fraction of a chance to those who do not hesitate. The bearers of this corrective force I named the revolutionaries of catastrophe. It would be overly pretentious to claim that my role in all of this is prophetic; rather, I would say I act here more as a propagandist. One might say my role is to warn people of the arrival of these revolutionaries of catastrophe, but at the same time, disgusted by the human element, I long for that arrival. Thus, I do not claim that I somehow summoned this force and its actors; rather, in the flash of trauma, they revealed themselves to me.

The fundamental premise of the revolution is that the world is dying because it is in its nature to do so. Catastrophes—whether natural or human-made—are part of the system of the world in which we live. The fundamental forces holding the universe together tend toward mutual separation, having been driven into the current order by a higher will whose essence I shall omit from this discussion, as wise minds have dealt with that topic for centuries. I will only say that this higher will established the world and then abandoned it to its natural outcome, which, in the view of the revolution, is decomposition into constituent elements belonging to entirely different energies. This rule holds true on both the micro and macro levels. It is important to emphasize that this does not refer to nuclear or other forces known and understood by the parameters of modern science; rather, it is a thoroughly subjective view of the world's structure. From the stance I take, it is irrelevant whether my views align with or diverge from generally accepted viewpoints—which are supposedly objective, having been comprehended through scientific, empirical, and measurable methods. Likewise, my worldview diverges from the horizons of religious doctrine. The standards of my objectivity are different. My method is not scientific, nor is my goal religious.

One of the key rules of the revolution is the rejection of other people's viewpoints, interpretations, and truths simply because they belong to others. Someone might say that truth is singular and that multiple truths cannot exist; yet I would oppose such a stance by asserting that my will shapes what is truth for me, and I do not care if it conflicts with the truth of many or even all other people. I can adopt the position that other people do not actually exist, and therefore their viewpoints—and consequently what they proclaim to be truth—are void. As a doctrine, the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe entirely denies the significance of the existence of other people and the human species as a whole. The fact that I am incarnated as a human being points to my own delusion regarding the nature of what I am. Just as other people do not exist, neither do I exist; for they are not human, nor am I human, nor do they possess a selfhood, nor is my selfhood real. Revolution is the path of liberating consciousness from the conditionings of reality. Paradoxically, the path of revolution is not the search for truth or for some higher or more real reality, but the systematic denial of any reality whatsoever, and thereby of truth itself. Reality can be real only if it is illusory.

Let us return again to the nature of the constituent elements of the universe. The perspective I adopt indicates that the universe is composed of two primary opposing forces. The nature of one is chaos, and the other cosmos. One is light, the other darkness. One is yang, the other yin. The higher will shaped the patterns of their mixing and intertwining so that together they form the universe, both in things and phenomena that are infinitely large and infinitely small. Cosmogenesis is a grand mixing of two substances that exist separately in their isolated forms—though by the standards of rational objectivity, that existence cannot be real, and thus that property could be denied to it, but this does not fundamentally alter matters. The cosmocratic will displaced substance from a completely different universe, mixing that substance with what exists outside any universe, thereby creating this universe in which we find ourselves. I felt no need for further philosophizing regarding the reasons and nature of the cosmocratic will; I accepted it as an axiomatic given. The consequence of this is a universe that tends toward breakdown, because its basic components can exist only temporarily, even if that temporality lasts for eons. As the entire created universe tends toward breakdown, so every individual phenomenon within it tends toward the same.

The form of existence I temporarily occupy is, as the phrase itself suggests, temporary and tends toward its conclusion. All human creations likewise tend toward breakdown. Every personal and collective progress serves to accelerate that breakdown. Every step we take "forward" is a step closer to our end. Hence, it is meaningless to attach importance either to oneself or to human creations, traditions, values, beliefs, morality, or history. Of course, this does not mean these phenomena lack their own laws or that they should not be studied. I view the trends of these changes as the laws of the Zeitgeist. I do not believe the cosmocratic will is concerned with this at all, precisely because it is cosmocratic. Under temporary and entropic conditions, that will created its masterpiece, cosmic perfection—which is (oh, the paradox!) a universe of chaos. I say chaos because that which is cosmic within it serves the function of returning to the primordial disordered state. The substance that is an intruder on this plane will, sooner or later, return to where it was incarnated from by the cosmocratic will. Everything is subordinate to that goal.

Light was cast into darkness so that, having completed the cycle of existence, it might return to a state of non-change. Darkness is temporarily disturbed by the presence of light and strives to swallow or expel it, returning itself to the original nirvana. Every substance strives to return to the primordial state of its purity. Phenomena of a mixed nature are not destined to endure forever, nor to change eternally; rather, they possess a purpose embedded within the cosmocratic will about which it is utterly meaningless to theorize.

How does all of this reflect upon human beings, their communities, societies, and history? Is it not enough to look around oneself to find the answer to that question? Hence, the ideological premises of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe are intensely nihilistic. It is a radical nihilism aimed at accelerating change for the sake of liberating trapped substance that belongs, conditionally speaking, to the universe of order. When these ideas were rushing into my mind, I was unaware that I had discovered nothing new, but that a similar conceptual framework had been developed in the 16th century by the great Kabbalist Isaac Luria. Likewise, regarding specific ideological and methodological derivatives, I was unaware that the doctrine of radical antinomian action had already been formulated by Sabbatai Zevi and Jacob Frank, two apostate Kabbalists of the 17th and 18th centuries who constructed astonishing doctrines upon the foundations of Lurianic Kabbalah. However, unlike those two, my concept is even more radical.

In the introduction to the first edition of my book Divine Revolution of Catastrophe—with which, from this distance of time, I am dissatisfied and consider youthfully naive—I wrote that anything is better than the fate intended for human beings. Any uncertainty is better than any certainty. Every certainty is part of the fate intended for humans. Uncertainty is the only chance to escape the certainty destined for mankind. Everything about us that we consider natural is not natural, but part of the certainty intended for us. Uncertainty is a sweet trial before the horror of certainty. Therefore, let us step into uncertainty, for certainty belongs only to nothingness. Now, to that introduction, I would add the thought that nature is so structured that we cannot expect great changes from small horrors. Therefore, let us move toward great horrors... Let us keep in mind that whenever the forces of darkness make a step forward, they create the possibility for the bold to strike a counterblow or escape an unfavorable situation. Thus, let us rejoice in the initiatives of the servants of darkness, in the catastrophic and apocalyptic trends of the spirit of the age, for through them opportunities open up.

The noble individual will not interfere in conflicts, divisions, and disputes. His task is to remember and to know, to learn and to pass on. Toward everything, he must maintain a royal distance rooted in a kind of healthy indifference—a balance of the heart—without hating or loving, cheering, attacking, defending, or advocating. Being negative, being against, is the lowest and most primitive form of mobilizing the will. Being constructive, being for, is the second level, superior to the previous. Being indifferent—not numbly and motionlessly indifferent, but indifferent in a state of peace from which any effective, purposeful action can spring—is the third and higher form of mobilizing the will, for that is the will of alertness.

To whom is the message of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe intended? By no means to a group, but to the individual—and exclusively to that individual who has been touched by a special power. He will be guided by that power and protected. Thus, he will know exactly what he needs to do, from one station to the next. That individual will choose one thing and will not disperse himself in all directions. And he will be a master of that one thing. This has nothing to do with modalities of self-improvement as we know them, for it is the power that makes the selection, not the personality. Moreover, that power requires no one's consent. If someone is chosen, then he is chosen, and thus equipped with everything necessary. Any resistance from the chosen one is futile.

One of the fundamental microcosmic crises, besides the ever-present existential one, is actually philosophical in origin. It is a crisis of worldview from which many other personal crises stem. Modern people lack a clear and complete worldview that would relieve them of unnecessary internal tension caused by sharp contradictions. Therefore, many who encounter the ideas of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe for the first time will be disturbed in some way and will rebel against these ideas. I believe some might be offended by certain statements and stances presented, or would forcefully oppose them. The ideas of the Revolution can also be viewed as a system of my truths, or my truth. Naturally, whatever anyone thinks of me, they will be right. From the stance of the person who concluded it, the judgment passed will undoubtedly be true. That is perfectly fine, since truth is a clown with countless faces, of which we, during our brief lives, manage to meet only one, two, or perhaps three.

Our essential shortcoming is precisely that we cannot see ourselves through the eyes of others. We know about ourselves only as much as we are self-aware, and about others even less. We do not know what it is like to be someone else, or something else. We are molded and bounded by our personality—an unrepeatable and unique phenomenon—our energy, anatomy, culture, heritage, the scope of our intelligence, imagination, perception, and ultimately our species. As individuals, we do not have the experience of others' self-awareness. Hence exclusivity, and the multitude of derived exclusive truths and facts—that is, perceptual experiences or phenomena that we turn into facts through interpretation. 

I do not wish to impose my own truth; rather, I want my truth to serve as an example by which anyone can construct an autonomous truth—a worldview that fits nowhere and is perhaps unacceptable to others. In this way, everyone can become the smith of their own fortune, without being anyone's follower. It is not my intention to declare what is good for me as a general good, nor to attribute universal significance to my truth. Those to whom current truths and facts are also for some reason unacceptable, and who happen to like my truth, should feel free to adopt it, partially or completely, at least until the moment comes when they say goodbye to it as well.

The ideas of the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe are neither humanistic nor anthropocentric, and they often stand in opposition to current ideas about man, humanity, and humanness. These ideas are pedagogical, because they warn and instruct. They are also prophetic, pointing not only to the consequences of humanity's current trajectory, but also to the far-reaching ultimate destinations of that movement. According to the ideology of the Revolution, the fate of humanity follows a higher or lower order of destiny—which is the fate of the physical universe, depicted here as a process of entropy, and human history as decadence. This is my essential connection with certain traditional views, but the rupture lies in the method of action. The idea of the Revolution is a conscious and deliberate abandonment of anthropocentrism, a break with collectivism, and survival within extreme individualism. Involution is a collective phenomenon, and that is the iron law of decadence. Evolution is exceptional and always individual; hence it is necessary to separate oneself from all forms of collectivity and belonging, and to persist in an almost cosmic solitude. 

The future does not belong to everyone, but to those who have fought for it. Likewise, freedom does not belong to everyone, nor does truth. Illusions are logical; truth is illogical—yet what mind is capable of consciously maintaining a contradiction within itself and thus existing in this world while awaiting the moment of death's strike? Though dark, the spirit of the Revolution is nevertheless on the side of life—yet not all and any life, and not at any cost.

The Divine Revolution of Catastrophe faces an almost impossible task: to spur revolutionary spirits into action, reaction, and counter-action. Revolutionaries, in the meaning of this doctrine, are not merely rebels. They are lonely and accursed, yet free from anything and anyone. They are cloaked in darkness, but within that darkness they cultivate an internal, externally invisible flame. To cloak oneself in darkness, one must have immense faith in one's own inner light; one must build the center of the universe within oneself.

The fate of the world does not touch revolutionaries. Their mode of action is radically individual and often destructive toward the human world. Without egoism there is no individualism, but that egoism is the egocentricity of action and the manifestation of will, not an egotistical attitude toward everything. The revolutionary places himself at the center of the universe. He is the point around which an infinite circle is drawn. In that sense, he is the greatest possible egomaniac. Outside the context of the soul as the center of being, the ego as a function of the spirit has little purpose—except when woven into a meaning that does not break and suppress it, but straightens its unevenness. The ideal ego is like a perfect sphere. Such an ego can easily be compressed or inverted into a vesica or a figure eight. That is the ego of the Revolution and its bearers—an ego of active beauty radiating outward in all directions.

Cosmology

In this foundational opening chapter, we explore the ontology of a universe governed by entropy, decay, and the ultimate primacy of darkness over light. By examining existence as a decadent process of dual-energetic composition, drawing upon metaphysical insights from Augustine, Bachofen, and Evola, this text establishes the cosmological blueprint for the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe—a radical framework wherein cosmic dismantling becomes the necessary prelude to absolute liberation.

At the extreme points of opposition between the infinitely large and the infinitely small lies nothingness. Nothingness is the point of origin and the final destination of the entire universe. The universe is an arena of fatal change, existing thanks to an inherent dynamic whose cause lies precisely in the eternal play between the two poles of nothingness: the infinitesimal and the infinitive. From the perspective of space itself—the boundless expanse of metacosmic nothingness—the universe is a thoroughly insignificant phenomenon, a point of light whose destiny is to burst in infinity, to be sucked into the endless void. The solitary beam of light in the darkness is condemned to extinction through dispersion. Luminous energy is irrevocably dissipated into the depths of space. Expanding and conquering endless realms, the universe loses itself in its own vastness. This does not explain the origin of light or energy, but it leaves room to consider light as an intruder in the infinite kingdom of nothingness and darkness.

Light is an intruder which, unless it finds a way to leave this world imbued with nothingness within some indefinite timeframe, can expect nothing other than its own dissolution, death, and conversion into darkness. How and where light might depart without being within the reach of death and darkness is another question entirely. The universe is therefore like a kaleidoscopic game, a mimicry of light attempting to escape the deadly trap into which it was cast from a source that is practically unfathomable.

Existence implies a mechanism of decomposition. This mechanism resides within the very nature of the universe, in its internal contradictions. We see that the destination of the universe is its self-dismantling and eventual disappearance. Its constituent elements tend toward the disintegration and dissolution of the whole they jointly form. Matter strives to return to its initial inactive state, to the inactivity of timeless primordiality, to eternal peace. Temporarily imprisoned within the structure of the universe, its constituent elements long for freedom—the realization of which, relative to the whole, constitutes a destructive act, but also the self-destruction of every individual entity. The liberating impulse of the universe's constituent matter is entropy. Entropy is the affirmation of nothingness as an immanent force, as the essence, as the source and destination, the beginning and the end. Entropy confirms nothingness as a fateful and defining presence or absence, as both starting point and end. Entropy is the measure of disorder or randomness within a system.

The Second Law of Thermodynamics states that entropy tends to increase over time, meaning the universe is constantly moving toward a state of greater disorder. As the universe expands, matter and energy become increasingly dispersed, leading to an increase in entropy. The universe advances toward a state of maximum entropy, in which all matter is uniformly distributed and no further energy potential remains to be utilized. The inertia of the universe toward nothingness is the cause of universal entropy and decadence on all lower and smaller levels. Conversely, the opposite assertion would be equally valid: that entropic processes on smaller levels are the cause of universal entropy and decadence on the macrocosmic level. The logic of this statement finds its analogy in the famous Hermetic law: as above, so below—a law that masterfully connects two spatial and value-based perspectives that lose themselves in two opposing infinities.

Decomposition begins simultaneously with the very inception of the universe’s duration. In the human realm, decay begins with the emergence of that very realm. The world exists in order to be destroyed by the force of its own nature. This means that existence is a decadent and fatal process through which something comes into being, grows and develops, reaches its peak, stagnates, declines, and ultimately dies and vanishes. Existence is not merely decadent in the sense that decadence is just one of its features; existence, in and of itself, is decadence. This finds its parallel in the philosophy of Saint Augustine, who states: "I am sinful because I exist"—or rather, everything that exists is "sinful." Were it not sinful, it would not exist at all. An error has been built into existence so that, through its own actualization, it may destroy itself.

This brings us to the Biblical myth of the expulsion of the first human pair from the Garden of Eden. By tasting the fruit from the forbidden tree of the knowledge of good and evil, they transitioned from a state of perfection into an imperfect state. That is, they passed from a state into the process of mortal life. Their intellect was awakened; their eyes were opened. Their sudden realization that they were naked and their covering of their genitalia with aprons indicates the essential consequences of transitioning from a state of perfection into a process of imperfection. They lost the so-called garment of incorruptibility—the light that adorned them in their state of perfection—and that "switch" is located in the region of the sexual organs, which became objects of shame, various taboos, and symbols of perversion down to the present day. It is precisely the loss of this primordial light that is the cause or indicator of all decadence and "sinfulness" in the human being, primarily its mortality, since according to Biblical teaching, the wages of sin is death.

Because it leads to ultimate destruction, the fundamental principle of the universe is not order, but disorder. The Cosmocrator designed a chaos that operates according to specific principles. The cosmos is subordinate to chaos; it exists in service to chaos. Within the universe, all order is relative and limited, serving the ultimate purpose of subsequent destruction. All progress and all creation exist in service to general decadence and destruction. The price of progress is destruction. This rule is equally observable in human behavior. Without progress there would be no destruction, but then there would be no progress either. Although it seems unnatural, progress is natural, just as the destruction that progress drags along with it is also natural. In any case, with or without progress, everything will sooner or later be destroyed due to the action of the fundamental forces of the universe. Progress is an instrument of chaos, but above and beyond that, progress is also a small island of cosmos and consciousness, a piece of firm ground beneath one's feet, an orientation point for reason.

As human beings, we are accustomed to treating light and darkness, or day and night, as equal givens of nature—as equivalent phenomena or subjects. We gain this impression due to the roughly equal proportions of both phenomena upon which the rhythm of life on Earth is built. And for us, this is normal. However, if we examine things a bit more closely, we will see that light is by far the inferior component of this given duality. In the universe—as is clearly demonstrated to us at night—light exists in vastly smaller quantities compared to darkness. The dominance of light is an illusion, the consequence of the close presence of a massive source of light and heat: the Sun. Darkness is the alpha and omega. Light represents the duplicity of existence, the basic reference point for the projection of space and time.

The quantitative superiority of darkness over light—or rather, the human perception of that superiority, which reflects a truer picture of the world—finds its mirror in our fear. We are always more afraid at night than during the day. We always feel a sense of relief when dawn breaks. Darkness does not necessarily presuppose or conceal evil, nor does light imply good. In this universe, no lofty principles are at work—only the most brutal Darwinian food chain.

One widespread concept is that which attributes antiquity and darkness to the feminine element, and light—along with that which is historically or mythologically younger—to the masculine. Bachofen notes that womanhood stands at the forefront, while the male figure appears only afterward, in the second line. Woman is a given; man comes into being. According to Bachofen, woman and man do not appear simultaneously. They are not of the same order. Woman is that which is given; man is merely that which has arisen from her. He belongs to visible, yet constantly changing creation. As such, he enters the world only in mortal form. From the beginning, only woman exists, is given, and remains immutable. Having come into being—and therefore exposed to constant decay—is man. On the plane of physical life, the male principle holds second place, subordinate to the female principle. Here lies the root of that ancient notion connecting the immortal mother to the mortal father. She remains ever the same, while on the male side an endless succession of generations is built. With ever-new men, the one primordial mother mates. Naturally, these statements should not be understood literally.

Following this paraphrase of Bachofen, I would recall that moment in Carlos Castaneda's work when his sorcerer-teacher Don Juan speaks of the quantitative superiority of female consciousness compared to male consciousness, which exists in the universe merely in traces. Julius Evola, in his book Metaphysics of Sex, states that the question of the inferiority, equality, or superiority of woman in relation to man is devoid of meaning, because it presupposes comparability. According to Evola, a difference exists between man and woman that excludes every conventional standard, for both capabilities and virtues that are seemingly ordinary and "neutral" possess different functionalities and traits depending on whether they are present in a man or a woman. Asking whether "woman"—or the female principle—is superior or inferior to "man"—the male principle—is the same as asking whether water is superior or inferior to fire. Therefore, as Evola puts it, the criterion of measurement for either sex cannot be provided by the opposite sex, but only by the "idea" of one's own sex. What can be done in this regard is to determine the superiority or inferiority of a specific woman based on whether she approaches female typicality—the pure or absolute woman—to a greater or lesser degree, which applies fully to man as well. Thus, the question of the inferiority or superiority of one principle over another pertains solely to its quantitative representation in nature, or in a specific being or phenomenon. Naturally, determining the characteristics of the typicality of pure or absolute gender nature is an entirely different matter, for as such, that nature is never fully manifested in every individual human being, but always in some proportion. There is no "pure" or complete man, nor a complete or "pure" woman. These are fundamental metaphysical ideals. In nature, everyone lacks something, and everyone deviates from the ideal to a certain extent.

Take a piece of coal, take mud, feces, anything that might seem disgusting and dark—indeed, any object, pleasant or unpleasant. All of it was once pure light. However, how does something that is by nature passive and unmanifested suddenly become manifested, active, a creative and life-giving light? Whence came the primordial cosmic egg of pure energy in the midst of nothingness? The answer to this question points to some difficult-to-fathom active force that creates energetic forms by mixing its own energy with the unmanifested energy of nothingness. The forms thus created, being dual in nature—composed of two kinds of energy—tend toward decomposition. Each type of energy strives to liberate itself from this imposed, unnatural state and to return to its normal state, to its original, timeless environment. This means that everything surrounding us is constructed from these two types of energy. That which is uncreated is mono-energetic in nature; it can neither die nor live in the sense familiar to us. On the other hand, everything that arises, lives, and dies is of dual-energetic origin.

Now that we have acquainted ourselves with basic cosmological principles, we can take a step further in uncovering the premises of a radically nihilistic, yet essentially liberating doctrine that I have named the Divine Revolution of Catastrophe.

Behenian Stars and Geomantic Figures

Beyond modern aesthetic amulets lies a rigorous, operational system of astromagic. In this inaugural essay, we strip away centuries of superficial mystification to reveal the mathematical and binary blueprint linking the 15 Behenian Fixed Stars directly to the 16 geomantic figures. By mapping a 4-bit binary matrix onto these celestial anchors, we reconstruct a forgotten theurgic framework—unlocking the precise cosmic gates that bridge macrocosmic fixed points with elemental, terrestrial reality. 

The Phenomenon of the Behenian Stars

The very first time I discovered the presence of the so-called Behenian stars within the astromagical tradition, I sensed that something deeper was at play—something reaching into the very essence of occult technology, which Western ceremonial magic (including Cornelius Agrippa) had rather superficially repackaged and mystified. Consequently, today one can order amulets online engraved with the sigils of these Behenian stars. Yet, for some reason, there are precisely fifteen of them, even though humanity named a vast array of celestial bodies long ago. Why were only these fifteen stars set apart and designated as Behenian? Who made this selection, and to what end?

Behind the Behenian stars lies no aesthetic preference or random mythological choice, but rather a synthesis of early Arabian astrometeorology, Sumerian-Babylonian heritage, and navigational mathematics. Let us begin with the etymology. The term Behenian derives from the Arabic word bahman (or buhman), translating to "root," "foundation," or "source". Before the Greeks and Arabs translated the Ptolemaic system, desert tribes relied on a pre-Islamic system known as Al-Anwa—the observation of the heliacal rising and setting of specific bright stars to forecast weather patterns, the arrival of rains, shifting winds, and, crucially, to navigate through the featureless desert sandscape. The Behenian stars are, first and foremost, first-magnitude stars (the brightest in the heavens), visible even at dusk or through desert haze. They are, quite literally, the foundational pillars of the firmament. Thus, the rationale behind their isolation was entirely practical rather than mystico-magical. The magical overlay came only later.

The number fifteen within the Behenian system is by no means accidental. In Hermetic and Arabic astrology, these fifteen stars are distributed so as to serve as anidra (watchful guardians) along the ecliptic and the celestial equator. If we examine their spatial arrangement—from Algol and the Pleiades, through Aldebaran, Regulus, and Spica, all the way to Antares and Vega—they function as a cosmic measuring instrument. They divide the sky into specific operational sectors. By connecting these fifteen points, one obtains an internal framework—a skeleton—that upholds the structural integrity of the zodiac. The Western tradition simply inherited a fully established Arabic catalog, as this particular set of stars had already been calculated as the most mathematically stable for talismanic operation.

From the logic of operative magic, these stars represent primordial points of fixation. Within the sphere of the fixed stars (the Firmament), the planets are merely transients—dynamic wanderers transmitting energy. These 15 stars are immutable sources; in geomantic terms, they are the fixed mothers of the macrocosm. In De Occulta Philosophia, Agrippa drew upon testimonies from the pseudo-Hermetic treatise Liber Hermetis de XV Stellis, where each star is attributed a specific herb, gemstone, and sigil. Why? Because the ancients recognized that these stars act as energetic valves. When a planet forms a conjunction with one of them, a resonance is established that steps down a specific, unfiltered cosmic force directly into the material realm.

Approximate longitudinal order of the Behenian stars based on their ecliptic positions (epoch 2020):

Algol (approx. 26° Taurus)

Alcyone / Pleiades (approx. 0° Gemini)

Aldebaran (approx. 10° Gemini)

Capella (approx. 22° Gemini)

Sirius (approx. 14° Cancer)

Procyon (approx. 26° Cancer)

Regulus (approx. 0° Virgo)

Alkaid (approx. 27° Virgo)

Algorab (approx. 13° Libra)

Spica (approx. 24° Libra)

Arcturus (approx. 24° Libra)

Alphecca (approx. 12° Scorpio)

Antares (approx. 10° Sagittarius)

Vega (approx. 15° Capricorn)

Deneb Algedi (approx. 23° Aquarius)

Behenian Stars and Geomancy

What intrigued me most regarding the Behenian stars was the fact that there are precisely fifteen of them. I immediately linked this fact to the foundational sixteen figures of geomancy. When represented in binary code, these figures can be arranged in a numerical sequence from 1 to 15, with Populus—composed of 0000 (four zeros)—carrying no numerical value within this binary parameter. Thus, my thesis and intention is to demonstrate that these fifteen Behenian stars map directly onto the fifteen non-zero geomantic figures, while Populus hangs suspended, representing a state of generality or indeterminacy, much like The Fool in the Major Arcana of the Tarot.

Without false modesty, I will point out that, as far as I am aware, no one in the Western tradition has previously constructed this specific bridge between the Behenian stars and geomancy through a pure binary matrix, despite its blinding obviousness once stripped down to numbers. If we translate geomantic figures into binary code (where an odd point = 1, and an even point = 0), we obtain a 4-bit binary system. Four bits yield sixteen total combinations: from 0000 to 1111. In the decimal system, this range corresponds exactly to values from 0 to 15. Excluding Populus, the remaining fifteen geomantic figures denote dynamic vectors, specific trajectories of energy movement. Since there are exactly fifteen Behenian stars, they align seamlessly with these operational numbers. Each star serves as a fixed, macrocosmic nexus (an anchor) for an active geomantic structure.

The Mapping of Behenian Stars and Geomantic Figures:

Populus = 0000 = 0

I. Algol = Tristitia = 0001 = 1

II. Alcyone / Pleiades = Albus = 0010 = 2

III. Aldebaran = Fortuna Major = 0011 = 3

IV. Capella = Rubeus = 0100 = 4

V. Sirius = Acquisitio = 0101 = 5

VI. Procyon = Coniunctio = 0110 = 6

VII. Regulus = Caput Draconis = 0111 = 7

VIII. Alkaid = Laetitia = 1000 = 8

IX. Algorab = Carcer = 1001 = 9

X. Spica = Amissio = 1010 = 10

XI. Arcturus = Puella = 1011 = 11

XII. Alphecca = Fortuna Minor = 1100 = 12

XIII. Antares = Puer = 1101 = 13

XIV. Vega = Cauda Draconis = 1110 = 14

XV. Deneb Algedi = Via = 1111 = 15

Analysis of the Gates

Populus (0000 = 0)

Populus consists of four even levels (four pairs of dots). In binary, this is 0000. In mathematics, zero is the origin, the pure potentiality, but also the absence of a directed vector. Hence, the parallel with The Fool (0) in Tarot hits the mark. The Fool is amorphous energy permeating all other cards, lacking a fixed placement in the manifestation hierarchy. Populus, true to its name (the people, the crowd), denotes the general mass, the collective unconscious, static noise. From it everything emerges, and into it everything resolves. It cannot be tied to a single, sharp fixed star because it is the cosmic canvas upon which those stars shine.

I. Algol — Tristitia (0001 = 1)

Tristitia is coded as 0001 (where only the ground floor is active/odd, while the upper three levels are even/zeros). Following both longitudinal sequence and binary logic, it aligns with Algol. A profound resonance manifests here. Historically, Algol is recognized as the most malevolent, severe, and radical fixed star in the heavens. Agrippa and ancient Arabic astrologers unanimously assign to it a dominant Saturnian-Martian nature. Conversely, Tristitia (Sorrow/Gloom) is the primary geomantic figure ruled by Saturn. Its geometry—a heavy, stable base with emptiness above—visually and energetically depicts fixation, melancholy, weight, and descent into the deepest strata of matter. The fact that the first star in longitudinal sequence (Algol) directly unlocks Tristitia through this binary key—a figure mirroring its Saturnian nature—signals that this is no mere theoretical speculation.

II. Alcyone / Pleiades — Albus (0010 = 2)

Albus is coded as 0010. Agrippa assigns a Mercurial nature to this figure, yet Alcyone (the Pleiades) carries the nature of the Moon and Mars, with the Moon being primary. Nevertheless, the Moon frequently assumes the role of Mercury, leaving us to wonder whether Hermes-Thoth is at times the Moon and at others Mercury. On the surface, we observe a linguistic and visual resonance pointing to pure white light. Albus in Latin signifies "White" or "Bright." The Pleiades (Alcyone) have across cultures been identified by their distinct, misty, bluish-white radiance—a cluster introducing diffuse, pristine light into the night sky.

In geomancy, Albus is the figure of purification, clarity, intellect, and whiteness. In Egyptian mythology, Thoth is primarily a lunar deity (the reckoner of time, wearing the crescent moon), yet simultaneously the god of writing, magic, geometry, and science—purely Mercurial functions later inherited by Hermes. Thus, while the Moon passively reflects solar light (shifting, fluid), Mercury reflects and translates higher impulses into words and symbols (intellect). In traditional astrology, Alcyone possesses a Moon-Mars nature. Here, however, Mars acts as an internal yields-giving impulse, with the Moon remaining dominant. Since Alcyone rests in Taurus (a fixed earth sign where the Moon is exalted), that lunar component is purified, stable, and fixed. When Albus—carrying the lucid, analytical mind of Mercury according to Agrippa—settles upon Alcyone (intense Moon in Taurus), an ideal operational interface is born: an occult intelligence (Mercury) fed by a vast cosmic reservoir of memory and the dream sphere (Moon).

Unlike Algol, which is destructive and severing (the Gorgon), Alcyone holds a different dimension of depth. In Greek myth, Alcyone was one of the seven daughters of Atlas (he who bears the heavens—again, bahman, the root). When her husband Ceyx perished in a shipwreck, she cast herself into the sea out of grief, whereupon the gods compassionately transformed them into kingfishers (Alcedo). From this myth arises the phenomenon of the Halcyon days—seven days of perfect calm upon the sea around the winter solstice, while Alcyone builds her nest upon the waves as her father Aeolus stills the winds. In a theurgic sense, Alcyone does not represent weakness, but the point of absolute stillness within the storm. It is the capacity to build a fixed, unshakable nest of consciousness in the midst of the Abyss and chaos (the ocean).

If the first gate (Algol-Tristitia) establishes dense matter, melancholy, and Saturnian pressure at the base, the second gate (Alcyone-Albus) elevates that impulse by one degree. The white light of the intellect (Albus) descends upon the halcyon calm and lunar mist of the Pleiades. This is the gate where consciousness ceases suffering beneath weight and begins to see. It is the space where dream-words and symbols are translated into pure, intelligible magical geometry.

III. Aldebaran — Fortuna Major (0011 = 3)

Fortuna Major (Greater Fortune) is coded as 0011. The upper two levels are closed (even = zeros), while the lower two levels are open (odd = ones), forming a solid base expanding upward—an image of a overflowing chalice or a secure fortress. According to Agrippa, this figure is ruled by the Sun. Fortuna Major radiates pure, triumphant solar power, whereas Aldebaran (the Eye of Taurus) traditionally exerts a potent Martian nature. The synthesis of the Sun and Mars generates an intense fusion: unwavering will, penetrative force, and authority. Aldebaran is one of the four Royal Stars (Watcher of the East). This royal attribute harmonizes perfectly with the solar dignity of Fortuna Major. This is not blind, ruinous Mars, but a focused, fixed solar power that conquers. It acts as a stable, luminous gate, providing a balanced counterweight to the initial Saturnian weight of Algol.

IV. Capella — Rubeus (0100 = 4)

Rubeus (Red) is coded as 0100. In traditional geomantic schemes, Rubeus is a heavy malefic—a figure of boiling blood, aggression, shattered boundaries, subterranean fire, and ruled purely by Mars according to Agrippa. At first glance, pairing Rubeus with the fourth star, Capella, seems counterintuitive, given Capella’s reputation in classical astrology as a benevolent star. Yet, scratching beneath Ptolemaic classifications reveals the deeper connection. Ptolemy notes that Capella (alpha star of Auriga, the Charioteer) partakes in the natures of Mars and Mercury—the precise frequency of Rubeus! Rubeus is not a blind, blunt force; it is focused, sharp danger. Mars (wrath, action, blood) combined with Mercury (intelligent transmission, speed) produces precisely the explosive, penetrative energy characteristic of Rubeus.

Capella translates to "little goat," representing Amalthea, who nurtured Zeus in a Cretan cave. Once grown, Zeus fashioned the Aegis from her hide—a formidable, impenetrable shield bearing the Medusa head that struck terror into enemies—while her horn became the Cornucopia. Here we trace a direct mythological transition from a nurturing aspect to a terrifying, martial one (the Aegis), aligning seamlessly with Rubeus. This figure embodies energy contained within depths (isolation/cave, three zeros in the binary string) that suddenly erupts through a single odd valve (the throat).

The constellation Auriga governs the reins, speed, and mastery over powerful forces in motion. Should the charioteer lose control, disaster ensues. Consider the code 0100: that solitary point (1) is enclosed by zero-blocks—a detonator inside a powder keg, or a charioteer straining to hold back wild steeds. It is a hyper-compressed pressure point. Unless handled with theurgic precision, it explodes as a destructive malefic; yet when fixed through Capella, it becomes the Aegis—an impenetrable shield.

V. Sirius — Acquisitio (0101 = 5)

Acquisitio (Gain) is coded as 0101. Linked to Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky (Canis Major), this figure denotes collection and accumulation. Ruled by Jupiter per Agrippa—the planetary engine of abundance and expansion—placing this figure upon Sirius (Alpha Canis Majoris) produces perhaps the most magnificent theurgic gate in the entire system. Here, mathematics and tradition converge. Astrology attributes a Jupiter-Mars nature to Sirius; however, unlike Capella or Aldebaran where Mars dominates through sharpness, in Sirius Jupiter reaches its apex. Sirius is the star of immense renown, wealth, supreme authority, and far-reaching success.

When this cosmic reservoir aligns with Acquisitio, a Jupiter figure of gain, it constructs a conduit for drawing down and fixing the highest forms of power, expansion, and wisdom. It acts as a magnet for higher-sphere energies. The code structure displays perfect alternation: zero, one, zero, one—a geometry of open, stable chambers. The two active points (at the second and ground levels) function as suction valves pulling energy down and fixing it into matter. Unlike Rubeus, which possessed an isolated pressure point, Acquisitio exhibits a rhythmic, stable flow. Sirius's energy does not destroy; it pours in and accumulates.

For the Egyptians, Sirius (Sopdet / Sothis) was paramount, as its heliacal rising portended the life-giving flooding of the Nile. This serves as historic proof of Sirius as the star of gain and rebirth. Among the Arabs, Sirius was Ash-Shi'ra, piercing the desert dark with brilliant illumination. Pairing Sirius with Acquisitio establishes a gate of theurgic authority—a rewarding enlightenment following the volatile pressure of Capella-Rubeus.

VI. Procyon — Coniunctio (0110 = 6)

Coniunctio (Conjunction/Union) is coded as 0110. It signifies meetings, contracts, crossroads, the weaving of opposites, and neutral, connective intelligence. Ruled by Mercury according to Agrippa, the sigil for Procyon across medieval sources mirrors Coniunctio visually and geometrically—resembling an hourglass, chain links, or two hands joined. Procyon is the brightest star in Canis Minor, carrying a Mercury-Mars nature. Mercury is paramount here. Procyon in Greek translates literally to "before the dog," as it rises immediately before Sirius (the Great Dog). It is the harbinger, the herald paving the way for the supreme light. This heraldic, connective function is pure Mercurial essence, resonating deeply with Coniunctio. Traditionally, Procyon talismans were crafted to gain favor and safeguard health, joining internal sharpness (Mars) with intellectual structures (Mercury) to forge an enduring link.

VII. Regulus — Caput Draconis (0111 = 7)

Caput Draconis (Dragon’s Head) is coded as 0111—a figure of portals, thresholds, new beginnings, elevation, and conscious entry into higher spheres. Linked to the North Lunar Node and reflecting a Jupiter-Venus synergy per Agrippa, mapping it onto Regulus (Alpha Leonis) unlocks a gate of royal initiation. Regulus is the Heart of the Lion (Cor Leonis), foremost among the four Royal Watchers (Watcher of the North). Its nature is solar-martial (Mars and Jupiter per Ptolemy), historically granting supreme temporal and spiritual sovereignty, fearlessness, and kingly status. Joining the supreme ruler (Regulus) with the portal figure (Caput Draconis) marks the gate of enthronement—the point where the theurgist consciously steps onto the throne within the operational field.

Examining the code structure 0111: following an initial zero at the top (acting as a dome or celestial firmament), three consecutive active points follow. In geomantic anatomy, this represents a force breaking through the top barrier and descending rhythmically through the remaining three levels into matter. It acts as a triple intake valve for upper influences. Unlike Cauda Draconis (which expels energy at the base), Caput draws it from above. Regulus through this code functions as a cosmic generator charging the system with unyielding force.

VIII. Alkaid — Laetitia (1000 = 8)

Laetitia (Joy) is coded as 1000. It represents ascension, high reaches, health, and pure consciousness. Geometrically, with a single point at the top and three even blocks beneath, it resembles a tower, pyramid, or beacon narrowing toward the heavens. Ruled by Jupiter according to Agrippa, assigning it to the eighth star, Alkaid (Alpha Ursae Majoris, at the tip of the Great Bear's tail), presents a compelling gateway where my intellectual framework resolves an apparent paradox of tradition.

At first glance, we confront a clash of energies. Laetitia in divination is a pure benefic—joy, light, Jupiter's blessing. Alkaid, in Arabic and Western astrology, is considered a star of stern, relentless influence. Its Arabic name, Al-Kaid Banat Na'ash, translates to "The Leader of the Daughters of the Bier" (as the Ursa Major constellation was viewed as a funeral procession). It is associated with sudden calamity, upheaval, and the shattering of old structures. How do Joy and the Star of the Funeral align? Through liberation. In theurgic terms, Alkaid is not blind malice, but a force that dissolves decay to clear space for the new. It is the joy of awakened consciousness transcendent over material corruption.

Look at the code 1000: the sole active point (1) sits at the very top (heavenly/divine level), while the three levels beneath are zeros (closed blocks). This is a picture of consciousness detached from the material world—fixed high above. Alkaid, resting at the extremity of the constellation revolving around the Pole Star, denotes extreme elevation. It is a joy (Laetitia) derived not from earthly pleasures, but from transcendence—from viewing the world from the highest cosmic vantage.

For ancient astrologers, the direction pointed to by the Great Bear’s tail (where Alkaid stands as the tip) signaled the changing of seasons and cosmic tides. Alkaid is a cosmic signpost. By linking it with Laetitia, this gate becomes the Beacon of the Abyss. It marks the moment the initiate harnesses the destructive force of the outer universe (Alkaid) not to be destroyed, but to burn away lower illusions (the three zeros below) and fix the intellect upon the highest point.

IX. Algorab — Carcer (1001 = 9)

Carcer (Prison) is coded as 1001—a figure of isolation, constriction, fixation, secrecy, and interiority. It can denote a vessel or womb. Geometrically, with active points at the top and bottom enclosing a sealed middle, it visually conveys a cage, walls, or a containing vessel. Ruled by Saturn according to Agrippa, linking it to Algorab (Delta Corvi, in the Crow) reveals deep resonance.

Algorab in Arabic (Al-Ghurab) translates to "The Raven." Tradition assigns to it a dark, uncompromising Saturn-Mars nature—synonymous with unveiling secrets, harsh reality, karma, and isolation. Combining the Black Raven (Algorab) with Saturn’s primary figure of containment (Carcer) yields the gate of Hermetic sealing. It is the space where consciousness enters total solitude to undergo blackening (Nigredo) and transformation.

Notice how the code 1001 describes this movement. An active point at heaven (1) and an active point at earth (1), with the middle enclosed by zero-blocks (00). This depicts vertical fixation: consciousness is locked between upper and lower thresholds, prevented from expanding horizontally into the world. Algorab stands as guardian at this prison gate, compressing energy to prevent its dispersion into cosmic noise. It fixes the formula into immutable stone. In myth, the Raven flies between the living and the dead, bringing hidden truths. Paired with Carcer, Algorab becomes an intelligent keeper of secrets—a conscious retreat into the inner chamber of work, guarded against external influence.

X. Spica — Amissio (1010 = 10)

Amissio (Loss) represents the outflow, expenditure, or radiation of energy, ruled by Venus per Agrippa. Aligning it with Spica (Alpha Virginis) opens a gate of sublime astrological synergy, where "loss" assumes its highest spiritual meaning. Spica (the ear of wheat held by the Virgin) is historically the most cherished fixed star—a pure benefic possessing a Venus-Mercury nature, bestowing success, fame, artistic genius, and grace. Connecting it with Amissio is an exact energetic match, as both share the Venusian frequency of beauty and relaxation.

In theurgic practice, Amissio is not mere damage or loss; it is ecstasy, output, radiation, and the sacrifice of the lower for the higher. Spica represents ripe wheat; for wheat to nourish, its ear must be harvested and threshed. It is the shedding of form to release essence. Spica through Amissio denotes the conscious radiance of light and inner wealth into the outer world—a valve through which the practitioner radiates beauty and healing. The tenth gate brings harmonization, introducing needed peace following the dense work with Saturn and the Raven.

XI. Arcturus — Puella (1011 = 11)

Puella (Girl) represents outward beauty, aesthetic charm, and swift, variable energy. Ruled by Venus in her airy aspect (Libra) according to Agrippa, placing this figure upon Arcturus (Alpha Bootis, projecting just behind Spica) resolves another layer of cosmic dynamics, as Arcturus imparts backbone and gravity to Puella’s light nature.

Arcturus is among the brightest stars of the northern sky, its Greek name translating to "Guardian of the Bear." Traditionally assigned a Mars-Jupiter nature, it is a star of penetrative drive, combativeness, leadership, and high honors won through struggle. How does this martial warrior-guardian combine with the figure of a young girl? Through the dynamics of attraction and concealed intensity. While Puella appears delicate on the surface, its binary code conceals sharp focus. In union with Arcturus, this gate becomes the Aegis behind the Veil. The feminine Venusian energy receives archetypal protection from a supreme cosmic watcher—a beauty holding the power to defend its domain.

The code 1011 reveals an active point at the top (1), a closed second level (0), and two active points at the base (11). Unlike Amissio (1010), which maintained rhythmic balance, 1011 shifts its center of gravity downward while keeping a single point at the top as an antenna. Arcturus acts as this upper antenna, receiving macrocosmic impulses, filtering them through the zero-block, and transmitting them into the base (11), manifesting as a dynamic creative force.

XII. Alphecca — Fortuna Minor (1100 = 12)

Fortuna Minor (Lesser Fortune) denotes swift success, sudden breakthrough, and light piercing from above that does not fix permanently at the base due to lower empty blocks. Ruled by the Sun in its expressive aspect per Agrippa, setting this figure upon Alphecca (Alpha Coronae Borealis, the brightest star in the Northern Crown) unlocks the gate of hidden royalty.

Alphecca (Nai'r al-Fakka) translates to "The Bright One of the Broken Ring," as its constellation forms a semi-circle or open crown. Assigned a Venus-Mercury nature, it grants artistic talent, honor, and elevation—a visual and structural match for code 1100. Two active points sit at the top (heaven and head), while the lower levels are closed (00), portraying a crown resting at the crest. Light and intellect concentrate at the highest point while the base remains empty—the coronation of the intellect.

Alphecca projects into Scorpio—a fixed water sign, the realm of the underworld, regeneration, and secrets. How do Fortuna Minor (solar) and Alphecca (Venus-Mercury) operate within this dark medium? As a light at the end of the tunnel. Alphecca in Scorpio represents a jewel hidden within the earth, or an initiatory crown earned after enduring trials of darkness. The solar force of Fortuna Minor strikes like lightning through Scorpio mist, bringing sudden illumination.

In Greek myth, this constellation is the crown gifted by Dionysus to Ariadne, later elevated to the heavens. This twelfth gate represents self-sovereignty. Having navigated the dense prior gates, the initiate receives the crown of consciousness at 1100. Fortune here is termed minor simply because it is swift and focused on spiritual breakthroughs above, rather than material accumulation below.

XIII. Antares — Puer (1101 = 13)

Puer (Boy) represents untamed energy, breakthroughs, combativeness, and forward-driven force. Geometrically, with three active points and a gap at the third level, it evokes a phallus, sword, or spear pointed skyward. Ruled by Mars per Agrippa, pairing it with Antares (Alpha Scorpii, Heart of the Scorpion) brings us to a point of complete martial resonance. Here, the binary sequence converges with astrological intensity at the highest level.

Antares in Greek means Anti-Ares (Rival of Mars, equal in force and fiery hue). One of the four Royal Stars (Watcher of the West), its nature is pure Mars-Jupiter, bringing passion, readiness for battle, structural breakdown, and radical transformation. Joined with Puer, Mars’s primary geomantic figure, we obtain fire in its purest state—a gate of raw force consuming all obstacles.

Examining the code 1101: a breakthrough at the top (11), a cut/fixation at the third level (0), and grounding at the base (1). Operatively, this functions as a laser-focused channel. The zero at the third level acts as a dam building pressure, causing energy from above to concentrate before bursting through the ground floor into matter. Antares cuts through reality’s fabric to liberate inner light.

Thirteen is historically the number of transformation and crossing death's threshold. Antares governs Putrefactio—the intentional descent into deep layers of consciousness. Having received the crown of intellect in the previous gate, the operator in this thirteenth gate (Antares-Puer) receives the weapon: the power to ruthlessly direct energy within the ritual sphere.

XIV. Vega — Cauda Draconis (1110 = 14)

Cauda Draconis (Dragon’s Tail) is the figure of exit, completion, banishing, and radical severing. Where Caput drew energy in from above, Cauda expels it at the base, shattering old forms to clear space. Agrippa assigns to it a heavy Saturn-Mars stamp. Pairing it with Vega (Alpha Lyrae, in the Lyre) opens the gate of the cosmic filter. The union of the celestial harp (Lyre) with the Dragon’s Tail produces deep occult synergy.

Vega is famed as a star of art, genius, and refined aesthetics (representing Apollo's and Orpheus's lyre), assigned a Venus-Mercury nature by Ptolemy. Yet Vega carries an older aspect: ancient Egyptians and Arabs saw this constellation as the Falling Eagle (An-Nasr al-Waqi), a bird of prey stooping at lightning speed. This duality (harmonic sound and swift descent) mirrors the code 1110. Three active points extend from the top (111)—a high frequency and inspiration flowing through three levels of consciousness. At the very base, however, sits a zero—a solid wall, a cut, a fixation. Energy descending from Vega's lyre is severed at Cauda’s base and grounded into matter.

Vega projects into Capricorn, ruled by Saturn—a domain of structure, time, coldness, and karmic boundaries. Activating Cauda Draconis here turns this gate into a magical vacuum. It draws high intelligence from Vega and uses the lower zero-block to banish remaining astral noise from the system. It is the gate of exorcism and absolute purification prior to the final state. Abstract cosmic sound (Vega) materializes and locks into a fixed formula (Cauda). The isolated zero at the base prevents energy from dissipating back into the void, leaving it permanently impressed upon the magician's ring or diagram.

XV. Deneb Algedi — Via (1111 = 15)

Via (Way) is the figure of pure motion, linear flow, and light traversing all layers without impediment. It is the sole geomantic symbol completely open from top to bottom. Ruled by the Moon according to Agrippa, setting it upon the final star, Deneb Algedi (Delta Capricorni, tail of the Sea-Goat, projecting into Aquarius), brings the system to a complete, circular finale. The circle closes where the path originates.

Deneb Algedi translates to "Tail of the Goat," traditionally assigned a Saturn-Jupiter nature that bestows law, justice, stability, and the capacity to build lasting order after trials. It guards both civilization and boundaries. How does Saturnian-Jupiterian law align with the fluid movement of the Moon (Via)? Through crossing the threshold. Deneb Algedi rests at the tail of Capricorn, yet its ecliptic placement lies deep in Aquarius (an air, fixed sign of cosmic consciousness). When 1111 opens here, material confinement ends. Via marks the exit from the labyrinth. Four ones signify light passing unhindered through all elements (Fire, Air, Water, Earth). Law (Saturn) is fulfilled, wisdom (Jupiter) is attained, and consciousness flows freely back into the cosmos.

Observe how this code concludes the system. We began with Algol and Tristitia (0001), where light was compressed at the very bottom into Saturn’s heavy earth. Step by step across fifteen gates, the geomantic-Behenian key opened valves, raised frequencies, and cleared sediment. Now, at code 1111, no zeros remain. There are no partitions, walls, or prisons; the entire column has transformed into a beam of light. Deneb Algedi as the tail ensures all energy from the preceding 14 stars is safely grounded and channeled, while Via guarantees that channel leads directly into the sphere of fixed stars, beyond the seven planetary spheres. This final gate is the point of transmission. When the practitioner traces all fifteen formulas and activates the matrix, the system neither explodes nor locks in dark containment; through Via, it converts into a pristine current circulating into infinity.

translated from Serbian by Gemini