Not a Manticore - why I explain the sacred when I do

[Brickjectivity]

What is a manticore? There is a series of comics (graphic novels) called The Books of Magic which reimagine the manticore, and I recommend reading them. In our own mythology the manticore is a creature which eats men, but in The Books of Magic it is a creature which destroys magic and magical creatures by reducing them to mere definitions. Its not the only nor the central villain in the series but is the ultimate villain the most destructive. I'll leave it to you to read the comic series in your local library. The series indirectly charges me and anyone who explains sacred terms of being a manticore. When I explain my view of sacred terms and try to define them I ask myself "Am I being a manticore?" "Am I destroying something?"

A decade or two ago I was on livejournal, and I didn't write much but poked around looking at what the occult people were talking about, such as the chaos magicians. They would make a similar charge to The Books of Magic. They'd say that naming a thing took away its power. The wiccans, too, would say that things should remain unexplained. They particularly hated it when someone tried to define their movement. This and the comic series impacted my thinking. Of course it is possible to be destructive with one's words.

I'm no manticore. When magic is put to evil use, when darkness becomes light and light darkness, then comes the manticore, then comes necessity. I do sometimes dare to explain that which is sacred but not to destroy. Destruction isn't my goal, though I recognize destruction is a side effect. Why do I at times speak within the world of scripture and sometimes step out of it, seemingly reducing something magical to something of mere definitions? Because it has become a necessity. The times call for it, chaos and confusion surrounding and destroying many, including me. There is good chaos, and there is bad chaos. There is a time for every thing, and there are endings.

 

[joe1776]

What is a manticore? ...
...in The Books of Magic it is a creature which destroys magic and magical creatures by reducing them to mere definitions....

By this definition, I'm a manticore. It seems that the brains of many people, perhaps even most, work on the premise "That which is mysterious must also be profound." They are mightily impressed with writing in which the meaning is obscure and difficult to comprehend -- like poetry, old manuscripts, Eastern religion, scientific jargon, or a work written in Academese. My brain rejects that idea. Instead, it assumes that someone who can't explain what they mean clearly, probably doesn't know what they're talking about.

 

[halbhh]

By this definition, I'm a manticore. It seems that the brains of many people, perhaps even most, work on the premise "That which is mysterious must also be profound." They are mightily impressed with writing in which the meaning is obscure and difficult to comprehend -- like poetry, old manuscripts, Eastern religion, scientific jargon, or a work written in Academese. My brain rejects that idea. Instead, it assumes that someone who can't explain what they mean clearly, probably doesn't know what they're talking about.

Since our brains have to reduce and represent reality in a simpler form than it is in actuality -- compared to the actual complexity and depth of nature/the real out there -- there is genuine depth out there we haven't captured all the time, and not only in the sciences of course but also in our own being and in the ecosystem and more.

That doesn't mean we can't try to capture something in words of course, but it's good to be aware we have only touched the face of the unknown pretty much.

 

[Brickjectivity]

By this definition, I'm a manticore. It seems that the brains of many people, perhaps even most, work on the premise "That which is mysterious must also be profound." They are mightily impressed with writing in which the meaning is obscure and difficult to comprehend -- like poetry, old manuscripts, Eastern religion, scientific jargon, or a work written in Academese. My brain rejects that idea. Instead, it assumes that someone who can't explain what they mean clearly, probably doesn't know what they're talking about.

If you get a chance try finding the series in the library.

 

[The Hammer]

They'd say that naming a thing took away its power. The wiccans, too, would say that things should remain unexplained. They particularly hated it when someone tried to define their movement. This and the comic series impacted my thinking. Of course it is possible to be destructive with one's words

Naming things certainly gives them power (or takes it away depending), as does knowing the true name of something or someone. They say if you know someone's true name you have control over them.

It's also kind of like the quote about the Eternal Tao. That which can be defined is not it. If you can explain it, it's probably not magick.

 

[Brickjectivity]

Naming things certainly gives them power (or takes it away depending), as does knowing the true name of something or someone. They say if you know someone's true name you have control over them.

There are many tangent topics to pick from, so where I am coming from is that some things are only supposed to be magical when we are children, like imaginary friends or like easter bunnies. If we hold on to these things as adults they become a problem. That is one case in which a person in order to progress or grow must let go of something, even in order to thrive. Some things aren't explained only because we aren't yet ready for an explanation, and some things will hurt us if we never expose them or collapse them into something simple enough to look at on paper. The opposite can be true analogous to instructions about how to do things which can never be as instructive as actually doing those things: the instructions for making bread is an example. Maps cannot do justice to terrain.

It's also kind of like the quote about the Eternal Tao. That which can be defined is not it. If you can explain it, it's probably not magick.

Some things defy explanation and stay with us. We keep them as we grow and change.

 

[Valjean]

A manticore (1678)

Woodcut from Edward Topsell's The Historie of Foure-footed Beasts (1607)


Manticore from the Rochester Bestiary (c. 1230–124Woodcut from Edward Topsell's The Historie of Foure-footed Beasts

 

[Kooky]

By this definition, I'm a manticore. It seems that the brains of many people, perhaps even most, work on the premise "That which is mysterious must also be profound." They are mightily impressed with writing in which the meaning is obscure and difficult to comprehend -- like poetry, old manuscripts, Eastern religion, scientific jargon, or a work written in Academese. My brain rejects that idea. Instead, it assumes that someone who can't explain what they mean clearly, probably doesn't know what they're talking about.

In a sort of ironic take on this statement - and don't get me wrong, I largely agree with your argument here - I find that a lot of what comes to us as 'mysterious' or 'obscure' is often a case of people writing to specific audiences in a language they know their audience will understand clearly, but which is so removed from our own, everyday reading and understanding that it is received by us as unclear or mysterious.

One such example would be scientific or academic jargon - it is not at all mysterious if you are an insider to the field, because most academic disciplines deal in their own vocabulary that is often very precisely tuned to the phenomena that are commonly talked about in their respective field; for example, "mass" or "energy" have very specific use cases in the field of Physics, which are very different from their use cases in, say, the field of Social Psychology.

Likewise, old manuscripts often seem obscure because they use a language and terminology that is no longer in common usage, but which would typically be just as clear to an audience of that era, as a modern manuscript would be to modern audiences.

 

[Kooky]

Naming things certainly gives them power (or takes it away depending), as does knowing the true name of something or someone. They say if you know someone's true name you have control over them.

And yet, all a definition does, is to add new names to already existing ones.
Perhaps they are afraid of too many names dilluting the power of their terminology.

It's also kind of like the quote about the Eternal Tao. That which can be defined is not it. If you can explain it, it's probably not magick.

If I recall correctly, the term "dao" actually had an everyday use in Laozi's times. So when he talks about how the dao is not the dao, he may well have been defining his dao as one that does not fit into the everyday usage of the term, like the difference between a way and The Way.

Whether that would be magic(k)al or not would be anybody's guess.

 

[Kooky]

Since our brains have to reduce and represent reality in a simpler form than it is in actuality -- compared to the actual complexity and depth of nature/the real out there -- there is genuine depth out there we haven't captured all the time, and not only in the sciences of course but also in our own being and in the ecosystem and more.

That doesn't mean we can't try to capture something in words of course, but it's good to be aware we have only touched the face of the unknown pretty much.

I think the actually profound issue that underlies the argument here is that on a fundamental level, livable, experiential reality is not words, and therefore, no amount of words could ever "capture" or convey our (or anybody else's) experiential reality.

It is the fundamental problem of abstraction that any amount of abstraction loses the thing it abstracts from.

But that applies to all of reality, and all of our words, regardless of how mysterious or clear they may seem to us.
"Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen."

 

[joe1776]

In a sort of ironic take on this statement - and don't get me wrong, I largely agree with your argument here - I find that a lot of what comes to us as 'mysterious' or 'obscure' is often a case of people writing to specific audiences in a language they know their audience will understand clearly, but which is so removed from our own, everyday reading and understanding that it is received by us as unclear or mysterious.

One such example would be scientific or academic jargon - it is not at all mysterious if you are an insider to the field, because most academic disciplines deal in their own vocabulary that is often very precisely tuned to the phenomena that are commonly talked about in their respective field; for example, "mass" or "energy" have very specific use cases in the field of Physics, which are very different from their use cases in, say, the field of Social Psychology.

I'll give you partial credit for your argument that SOME scientific jargon is useful but none for academic jargon. There is no reason whatsoever that students should have to learn a new language (Academese) before they can fully understand a subject.

Not long ago, I read an article by a college professor for an online magazine read by ordinary people. I was able to grasp its meaning even though it was written in the pretentious language of Academia. The author was griping that his dull-witted students were having trouble understanding his subject: Critical Thinking.

Likewise, old manuscripts often seem obscure because they use a language and terminology that is no longer in common usage, but which would typically be just as clear to an audience of that era, as a modern manuscript would be to modern audiences.

Yes, of course. But that misses my point which questions why contemporary readers expect to find profound truths in old, obscure manuscripts.

 

[Brickjectivity]

But that applies to all of reality, and all of our words, regardless of how mysterious or clear they may seem to us.
"Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen."

Thanks for that interesting link. He says some cool things. I like this: "It is quite impossible for a proposition to state that it itself is true."

A manticore (1678)

Woodcut from Edward Topsell's The Historie of Foure-footed Beasts (1607)


Manticore from the Rochester Bestiary (c. 1230–124Woodcut from Edward Topsell's The Historie of Foure-footed Beasts

Here are some pictures of the manticore from the series though not enough to fill you in on the story:

Spoiler: Images of The Manticore

found these on this manticore page on tumblr : manticore-folder - Tumblr blog | Tumgir

 

[halbhh]

I think the actually profound issue that underlies the argument here is that on a fundamental level, livable, experiential reality is not words, and therefore, no amount of words could ever "capture" or convey our (or anybody else's) experiential reality.

It is the fundamental problem of abstraction that any amount of abstraction loses the thing it abstracts from.

But that applies to all of reality, and all of our words, regardless of how mysterious or clear they may seem to us.
"Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen."

And...the fun reality that in addition to not being able to capture reality in our words (fully), there is also the separate fact that nevertheless we are in it, and can expedience it, the real thing, though usually people will (or need to often) ignore that deeper wider reality, and focus instead on the very reduced limited practicalities of just living life without our setup culture, with achievable goals that are limited and based on our invented culture. e.g. to get gas, accomplish tasks, and so on, in the limited setup.