Two students were out walking one evening on a university campus, also known as Universitas.
The first student, who loved to be called Teacher, called to the other: “Look! There’s an eminent scholar speaking in the bowels of our school and only a few have been invited, but we’re among them. Put on your best outfit and come to this talk. If we go, we’ll no doubt be seen by all the other teachers here. Our attendance will be noted and we may even be allowed to speak. If you come, I’ll introduce you to the most pinguid of them. You must meet the one who runs the Center at the state university!”
This one who loved to be called Teacher also loved money and the comforts of suburban life. Not only was he raised in a mall, but he also taught at a for-profit institution and loved to boast about his station.
The second student acknowledged that the first was speaking, but didn’t respond immediately, for he was weighing his reply carefully.
After a few moments he answered, “Friend, I’m going to the Supper this evening instead of rushing to the garbage heap. If I’m going to be a vermin, I’d rather nibble on the Host with the Most, than be one of these vultures trying to take a bite out of the Shit Pie.”
Lupus is alive and well.
May God have mercy on our hearts, minds, and souls.
Shall we pray for those who parade in lewd hats and seek to consume the flocks of the Lord?
As someone once wrote: “I know that we must make due distinction between the individual and the abominable and accursed seat [of the beast]. But I do think that those who pray specially for him who bears the mark of reprobation, have surely much time to spare. I lay down laws for no man, but it is a matter of concern that the sobriety of prayers should express the reverence we feel for the name of God.”
When Wolf feeds with his eyes, what is the nature of his eating? The answer is this: he consumes passing shadows, which we call the filth of form, and a host of empty representations that condemn the whole body to eternal burning.
Let this be a warning to anyone who would gaze on external things, saying in their heart, “I will only look, but will not touch.”
And so this should be our prayer, “Have mercy, Master. Tear out the eyes so that the body might be preserved.”
“For all that is in the world–the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, the pride in riches–comes not from the Father but from the world.”
Here, the apostle delineates–though does not describe–three basic forms of human sickness. Because he provides merely a taxonomy, and not a phenomenology proper, it will be my task here to sketch three brief examples of each distinctive form of sickness; a brief compendium of those illnesses that plague the soul.
The desire of the flesh. This is the perverse desire to have one’s own way in the world, to dominate, to manipulate, and to order the world–and all of its inhabitants–to one’s own perverse way of reckoning. To be Master, Teacher, and Lord: the Center of Attention. The Father of Lies is the archetype, Japheth is the ancestor, and today’s example is The Teacher.
The desire of the eyes. This is a perverse way of looking at God’s creation. And looking, and looking, and looking. The one who is possessed by the desire of the eyes will prioritize the seeing of bodily images over and above all other tasks. He will stare, with little regard for propriety. He will imagine, and those images will come to colonize and to dominate his imagination, and even his dreams. King David is the archetype, Ham is the ancestor, and the Two Gallants (and in particular, the Gallant of The Plains) exemplify this type today.
The pride in riches. This is a perverse misordering of material goods. It requires the least commentary, for it is the most crass, and the least interesting of the three basic human sin-sicknesses. However, it is also the most easily cured. The archetypal figures are the characters from our savior’s parables (the “rich man”), the ancestor is Shem, while our own example today is Lambkins.
The following are not words of true teachers, but rather the words of a deceiver. For one has said: “Not all shall rise; rather, some shall sleep in the dust of the earth forever. One such man is Abel, son of Adam; another is the second Abel, son of the most high.”
But we say: “It is true that the second Abel recapitulates the first Abel in all manner of things. Just as the first Abel did not resist his brother Cain, but allowed him what is called ‘wolf space,’ neither does the second Abel resist Cain. Rather, he grants unto him the steppes, the prairies, and a dry and cold place on which to roam.”
We say further: “But to deny that either the first or the second Abel has risen unto new life is rank apostasy. Let such a deceiver be Anathema.”
What is the character of Lupine vision?
First, it is defined by curiosity. This curiosity is not intrinsic to the Lupine inner-eye, but to all external things. That is, the curio of all things evokes the actio of Lupine sight. The curio, though diffuse, exists in degrees and derives its intensity from what we call form.
Second, it is defined by fear. Embedded within the inner-eye is a sense of primal terror, that is, terror that it cannot be left unto itself. It is therefore driven to move outside itself as sight, uniting itself to external forms according to the drag of the curio.
Third, it is ordered as a circuit. The Lupine inner-eye desires to ever be outside itself. Form beckons to the Lupine inner-eye through the call of the curio. Lupine sight therefore goes out in order to unite itself to a particular form, returning into itself in order to care for the form.
Fourth, it is ordered according to dyadic symmetry. From the innermost part of the inner-eye, Lupine sight goes out as an ephemeral tone that repeats itself in two soundings: one which is a uniform whirr that oscillates between the audible and nearly inaudible, and the other that cries out as a piercing crack. This latter sounding is that which arouses the attention of whatever form has been laid hold of.