The illuminatus! trilogy (42 page)

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Authors: Robert Shea,Robert Anton Wilson

Tags: #Science fiction; American, #General, #Science fiction, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Visionary & Metaphysical

BOOK: The illuminatus! trilogy
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That’s why they hate ordinary mankind—because we’re so disorderly. They’ve been trying for six or seven thousand years to reestablish Atlantis-style high civilization-law ‘n’ order—the Body Politic, as they like to call it. A giant robot is what their Body Politic really amounts to, you know. A place for everything and everything in its place. A place for everybody and everybody in his place. Look at the Pentagon—look at the whole army, for Goddess’s sake! That’s what they want the planet to be like Efficient, mechanical, orderly—very orderly—and inhuman. That’s the essence of the Aneristic Delusion: to imagine you have found Order and then to start manipulating the quirky, eccentric chaotic things that really exist into some
kind of platoons or phalanxes that correspond to your concept of the Order they’re supposed to manifest. Of course, the quirkiest, most chaotic things that exist are other people—and that’s why they’re so obsessed with trying to control us.

Why are you staring like that? Am I changing colors or growing bigger or something? Good: the acid is starting to work. Now we can really get to the nitty-gritty. First of all, most of what I’ve been telling you is bullshit. The Illuminati have no millennia-old history; neither do the JAMs. They invented their great heritage and tradition— Jacques De Molay and Charlemagne and all of it—out of whole cloth in 1776, picking up all sorts of out-of-context history to make it seem plausible. We’ve done the same. You might wonder why we copy them, and even deceive our own recruits about this. Well, part of illumination—and we’ve got to be illuminized ourselves to fight them—is in learning to doubt everything. That’s why Hagbard has that painting in his stateroom saying “Think for yourself, schmuck,” and why Hassan i Sabbah said
“Nothing
is true.” You’ve got to learn to doubt us, too, and everything we tell you. There are no honest men on this voyage. In fact, maybe
this part
is the only lie I’ve told you all evening, and the Illuminati history before 1776 really is true and not an invention. Or maybe we’re just a front for the Illuminati … to recruit you indirectly….

Feeling paranoid? Good: illumination is on the other side of absolute terror. And the only terror that is truly absolute is the horror of realizing that you can’t believe anything you’ve ever been told. You have to realize fully that you
are
“a stranger and afraid in a world you never made,” like Houseman says.

Twenty-two big rhinoceroses, twenty-three big rhinoceroses

The Illuminati basically were structure-freaks. Hence, their hangup on symbols of geometric law and architectural permanence, especially the pyramid and the pentagon. (God’s Lightning, like all authoritarian Judeo-Christian heresies, had its own share of this typically Occidental straight-line mystique, which was why even the Jews among them, like Zev Hirsch, accepted the symbol first suggested by Atlanta Hope: that most Euclidean of all religious emblems: the Cross.) The Discordians made their own sardonic commentary on the legal and scientific basis
of law ‘n’ order by using a 17-step pyramid—17 being a number with virtually no interesting geometric, arithmetic or mystic properties, outside of Java, where it was the basis of a particularly wierd musical scale—and topping it with the Apple of Discord, symbol of the un-rational, un-geometrical, and thoroughly disorderly spontaneity of the vegetable world of creative evolution. The Erisian Liberation Front (ELF) had no symbol, and when asked for one by new recruits, replied loftily that their symbol could not be pictured, since it was a circle whose circumference was everywhere and its center nowhere. They were the most far-out group of all, and only the most advanced Discordians could begin to understand their gibberish.

The JAMs, however, had a symbol that anyone could understand, and, just as Harry Pierpont showed it to John Dillinger midway through a nutmeg high in Michigan City prison, Dr. Ignotius showed it to Joe midway through his first acid trip.

“This,” he said dramatically, “is the Sacred Chao.”

“That’s a symbol of technocracy,” Joe said, giggling.

“Well,” Dr. Ignotius smiled, “at least you’re original. Nine out of ten new members mistake it for the Chinese yin-yang or the astrological symbol of Cancer. It’s similar to both of them—and also to the symbols of the Northern Pacific Railroad and the Sex Information and Education Council of the United States, all of which is eventually going to lead to some interesting documents being produced at John Birch headquarters, I’m sure, proving that sex educators run the railroads or that astrologers control the sex educators or something of that sort. No, this is different. It is the Sacred Chao, symbol of Mummu, God of Chaos.

“On the right, O nobly born, you will see the image of your ‘female’ and intuitive nature, called
yin
by the Chinese. The yin contains an apple which is the golden apple
of Ens, the forbidden apple of Eve, and the apple which used to disappear from the stage of the Flatbush Burlesque House in Brooklyn when Linda Larue did the split on top of it at the climax of her striptease. It represents the erotic, libidinal, anarchistic, and subjective values worshiped by Hagbard Celine and our friends in the Legion of Dynamic Discord.

“Now, O nobly born, as you prepare for Total Awakening, turn your eyes to the left, yang side of the Sacred Chao. This is the image of your ‘male,’ rationalistic ego. It contains the pentagon of the Illuminati, the Satanists, and the U.S. Army. It represents the anal, authoritarian, structural, law ’n’ order values which the Illuminati have imposed, through their puppet governments, on most of the peoples of the world.

“This is what you must understand, O newborn Buddha: neither side is complete, or true, or real. Each is an abstraction, a fallacy. Nature is a seamless web in which both sides are in perpetual war (which is another name for perpetual peace). The equation always balances. Increase one side, and the other side increases by itself. Every homosexual is a latent heterosexual, every authoritarian cop is the shell over an anarchistic libido. There is no
Vernichtung
, no Final Solution, no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and you are not Saul Goodman, when you’re lost out here.”

Listen: the chaos you experience under LSD is not an illusion. The orderly world you
imagine you experience
, under the artificial and poisonous diet which the Illuminati have forced on all civilized nations, is the real illusion. I am not saying what you are hearing. The only good fnord is a dead fnord. Never whistle while you’re pissing. An obscure but highly significant contribution to sociology and epistemology occurs in Malignowski’s study “Retroactive Reality,” printed in
Wieczny Kwiat Wtadza
, the journal of the Polish Orthopsychiatric Psociety, for Autumn 1959.

“All affirmations are true in some sense, false in some sense, meaningless in some sense, true and false in some sense, true and meaningless in some sense, false and meaningless in some sense, and true and false and meaningless in some sense. Do you follow me?”

(In some sense
, Joe mutters …)

The author, Dr. Malignowski, was assisted by three graduate students named Korzybski-1, Korzybski-2, and
Korzybski-3 (Siamese triplets born to a mathematician and, hence, indexed rather than named). Malignowski and his students interviewed 1,700 married couples, questioning husband and wife separately in each case, and asked 100 key questions about their first meeting, first sexual experience, marriage ceremony, honeymoon, economic standing during the first year of marriage, and similar subjects which should have left permanent impressions on the memory. Not one couple in the 1,700 gave exactly the same answers to 100 questions, and the highest single score was made by a couple who gave the same answers to 43 of the questions.

“This study demonstrated graphically what many psychologists have long suspected: the life-history which most of us carry around in our skulls is more our own creation (at least seven percent more) than it is an accurate recording of realities. As Malignowski concludes, ‘Reality is retroactive, retrospective and illusory.’

“Under these circumstances, things not personally experienced but recounted by others are even more likely to be distorted, and after a tale passes through five tellers it is virtually one hundred percent pure myth: another example of the Law of Fives.

“Only Marxists,” Dr. Iggy concluded, opening the door to usher Joe into the chapel room, “still believe in an objective history. Marxists and a few disciples of Ayn Rand.”

Jung took the parchment from Drake and stared at it. “It’s not to be signed in blood? And what the hell is this yin-yang symbol with the pentagon and the apple? You’re a fucking fake.” His lips curled tightly in against his teeth.

“What do you mean?” said George through a throat that was rapidly closing up.

“I mean you’re not from the goddam Illuminati,” said Jung. “Who the hell are you?”

“Didn’t you know that before I came here—that I’m not from the Illuminati?” said George. “I’m not trying to fake anybody out. Honest, really, I thought you knew the people who sent me. I never
said
I was from the Illuminati.”

Maldonado nodded, a slight smile bringing his face to life. “I know who he is. The people of the Old
Strega
. The Sybil of Sybils. All hail Discordia, kid. Right?”

“Hail Eris,” said George with a slight feeling of relief.

Drake frowned. “Well, we seem to be at cross purposes. We were contacted by mail, then by telephone, then by
messenger, by parties who made it quite clear that they knew ail about our business with the Illuminati. Now, to the best of my knowledge—perhaps Don Federico knows better—there is only one organization in the world that knows anything about the AISB, and that is the AISB itself.” George could tell he was lying.

Maldonado raised a warning hand. “Wait. Up, everybody. To the bathroom.”

Drake sighed. “Oh, Don Federico! You and your tired notions of security. If my house isn’t safe, we’re all dead men as of this moment. And if the AISB is as good as it’s said to be, an old trick like running water will be no obstacle to them. Let’s conduct this discussion like civilized men, for God’s sake, and
not
huddled around my shower stall.”

“There are times when dignity is suicide,” said Maldonado. He shrugged. “But, I yield. I’ll settle the question with you in hell if you’re wrong.”

“I’m still in the dark,” said Richard Jung. “I don’t know who this guy is or where he’s from.”

“Look, Chinaman,” said Maldonado. “You know who the Ancient Illuminated Seers of Bavaria are, right? Well, every organization has opposition, right? So do the Illuminati. Opposition that’s like them, religious, magical, spooky stuff. Not simply interested in becoming rich, as is our gentlemanly aim in life. Playing supernatural games.
Capeesh?”

Jung looked skeptical. “You could be describing the Communist party, the CIA, or the Vatican.”

“Superficial,” said Maldonado scornfully. “And upstarts, compared with the AISB. Because the Bavarian Illuminati aren’t Bavarians, you understand. That’s just a recent name and manifestation for their order. Both the Illuminati and their opposition, which this guy represents, go back a long ways before Moscow, Washington or Rome. A little imagination is called for to understand this, Chinaman.”

“If the Illuminati are yang,” George said helpfully, “we’re yin. The only solution is a Yin Revolution. Dig?”

“I am a graduate of Harvard Law School,” said Jung loftily, “and I do
not
dig it. What are you, a bunch of hippies?”

“We never made a deal with your bunch before,” said Maldonado. “They never had enough to offer us.”

Robert Putney Drake said, “Yes, but wouldn’t you
like
to, though, Don Federico? Haven’t you had a bellyfull of the others? I know I have. I know where you’re from now, George. And you people have been making giant strides in recent decades. I’m not surprised that you’re able to tempt us. It’s worth our lives—and we are supposedly the most secure men in the United States—to betray the Illuminati. But I understand you offer us statues from Atlantis. By now they should be uncrated. And that there are more where these came from? Is that right, George?”

Hagbard had said nothing about that, but George was too worried about his own survival to quibble. “Yes,” he said. “There are more.”

Drake said, “Whether we want to risk our lives by working with your people will depend on what we find when we examine the
objets d’art
you are offering. Don Federico, being a highly qualified expert in antiquities, particularly in those antiquities which have been carefully kept outside of the ken of conventional archaeological knowledge, will pronounce on the value of what you’ve brought. As a Sicilian thoroughly versed in his heritage, Don Federico is familiar with things Atlantean. The Sicilians are about the only extant people who do know about Atlantis. It is not generally realized that the Sicilians have the oldest continuous civilization on the face of the planet. With all due respects to the Chinese.” Drake nodded formally to Jung.

“I consider myself an American,” said Jung. “Though my family knows a thing or two about Tibet that might surprise you.”

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