Hail unto thee!
An ongoing project of terrestrial Thelemites: World Wide Resh, thanks to the industry of lammassu.

We've generated footage for three of our four Chicago Resh videos, and probably a good out-takes segment besides. Each time we shoot, we get curiosity from bystanders. (Or, conversely, the woman so intent on her cell phone that she has to walk through the middle of the shot, and reacts with unthinking hostility when someone tries to warn her away.)

After doing noon, we were approached by a fellow in a t-shirt that proclaimed him a devout Christian. I think he was a youth pastor or something of the sort. He asked what we were about, and I happily answered him that we were Thelemites enacting a ceremony prescribed by Aleister Crowley for daily devotion to the Sun.

"Do you think it hears you?" inquired the man.

"What? Uh, of course not!" I said. Had I been in cruel godstomping mode, I would have continued: "Oh, wait--you think Jesus hears you, right? Hahahahaha." But I was in friendly promulgating mode, so I explained to him that since we're residents of the Solar System, the Sun is He in whom we live and move and have our being. That the planets are sort of like sensory organs of a grand cosmic beast with the Sun at its heart. And that we are like the eyelashes of that god. We pause four times daily to reconnect with the solar center.

"So, you don't believe in the Bible," he ventured.

"What's not to believe in? I have a shelf of Bibles at home! I probably read the Bible a lot differently than you do, is all." I mean, whoever heard of somebody saying they "don't believe in" the Odyssey, or Blake's Jerusalem?

As he walked away, he assured us: "See, I wasn't afraid to talk to you!" That seemed rather a misconstrual of our motives.