Shatter day, hyperstition; writing what you want into reality

Intrinsically, we know we can just take things we have written down, and if written well and right, they can happen, more or less.

The latest recension of the concept has been made popular by American technologists, using digital and, increasingly, precision engineered physical machinery as ritual tools to bring about the world they want to see.

This world is heavily inflected with Lord of the Rings themes, in particular.

This tendency has a few names, and has been recurring through less-reputable areas of “literature” for centuries.

I've been fascinated by this for years, in various guises. I think it's a key vector for understanding and operating within a sorcerous world. Make no mistake, our shared world is ruled by sorcerers, though they may not have this on their business cards.

Hyperstition is one name for it. As far as I can tell, this was labeled as such by the CCRU, the fascinating renegade philosophy cult formed at (then disavowed by) Warwick University in the UK in the 1990s and the early 2000s. Their various writings – both collected, and of the individuals involved – provide a snapshot into this fascinating time.

Amid all these superlative antics, there also arose the not-unrelated Chaos magic Hypersigil concept, stunningly demonstrated in Grant Morrison's The Invisibles comic series.

The idea has deeper roots, tested techniques and record of other experiments though. William S. Burroughs, for example, was obsessed with this intertextuality, regarding time and space as just another type of that can be edited, rewritten, interpolated. His influence can be found in both the CCRU and the work of the Chaos magicians.

In particular, using narrative to rewrite and fundamentally reimagine phenomenal reality was a key concern of Burroughs' 1981 novel Cities of the Red Night.

Shatter Day Shatter Day – from the 8-Circuit Mind tarot I made as part of Antero Alli's magnificent course

Shatter Day always closer: this enigmatic, apocalyptic utterance lands like a perfect strike at critical point of Red Night, right where the story is getting really out of control. My reading on this – it reflects the point where the fiction you have written, or are engaging with, collides with what you perceive as local reality.

That point where your script becomes the movie, and you're the leading actor in it.

It's a really strange feeling; my own initial experiments with this led to specifically getting what I wanted – but generally not experiencing great outcomes. I put this down to “conjuring blowback”. Certainly, there was also a failure of aspiration, of wanting to see if it works; seeking verification before trust.

Basically – once conjuring to get what you want – the essential challenge of handling the displacement and dissonance of actually getting it.

Asking and getting. If you're not used to getting – I was not, at this stage – this was a personally apocalyptic event.

I'm not sure how widespread these phenomena are. Joseph C. Lisiewski mentions a similar phenomenon, referring to this as “the slingshot effect” in both Ceremonial Magic & The Power of Evocation and Howlings from the Pit. As an aside, both of these are interesting, practical texts that certainly contributed working knowledge to the Grimoire Revival.

In light of these technical and media-oriented framing perhaps could be regarded more as feedback – which can be managed, if you know the equipment you're working with.

“Gnōthi seauton”“Know thyself”, the lintel above the entrance to the Temple of Apollo in Delphi allegedly read.

More contemporarily, and perhaps more suited for some in these more ambiguous and accelerated times, is Hefner's notorious doorway maxim: “Si Non Oscillas, Noli Tintinare”“If you don’t swing, don’t ring”.

The necessity of Promethian endeavours.

Nothing of value will be created from small, limiting myths. If a mythic pantheon has no room for aspiration, it becomes the sacred duty of those who burn with fire of the mind to amend it.

The self-selected, self-appointed ones who decide there is in fact (though first, in fiction) another way, that they disagree, and have a better plan.

This pen is held with an attitude of divine insouciance. It's yours for taking, though – as befits the tradition – it's better stolen, and you'll likely upset some people.

Authors exercise authority.

They authorise the whole damn show.

Shatter Day always closer.

Make it so.