Antiphony (23 page)

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Authors: Chris Katsaropoulos

BOOK: Antiphony
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It could be that they have brought Rainer in as the token of a thorough search, to mollify the Board and maintain all sense of propriety that all available qualified candidates have been considered. There had briefly been talk from Victor of wanting to hire a woman, or some other minority candidate, but in their many discussions over lunch in the student union or in the narrow
enclosure of Victor's office, Victor had always assured Theodore that he had the inside track. The look of pure shock and despair on Pradeep's face confirms it—the Russian is in.

Victor breaks the spell. “Theodore, it's good to see you. I'm glad you're okay.” This last is said without a trace of malice towards the interloper in the midst of their party. But then Victor does have to ask the question everyone is thinking as they stare at him.

“What do you want?”

The revelation comes from the question. Theodore scans the room and then his eyes go towards the far wall, also floor to ceiling glass, with a broad expanse of sky on the other side. From behind a shred of cloud, a single ray of sun erupts, glances past and imparts to the cloud a celestial outline of golden filigree. And there, beyond the golden cloud, a single star shines halfway up the sky from the horizon—or could it be a planet? It is still close enough to daybreak to see the star trembling there, its light flickering against the gray backdrop of the morning. He closes his eyes and the light from the star approaches, the light from the star fills his vision, fills his head and he sees it as a worshipping of the star in the east in the chambers of his imagery, the star of morning and the sun combining, the star of morning fills his vision as a single eye. The secret vision of the spirit thrust his sword in the fellow's side to open the star everywhere to seek what's inside and also afar off the star brought near enough to touch, the star which is fallen down from heaven into his open sword wound and his open single eye, the star which grows beyond his secret vision to encompass all and all, with colors blooming from points of color dying daily, point of
orange grows to red and green and blue, point of blue enthralls to purple, pushes open leaves of violet and magenta, octave pushing up and out to the eye between the brow and through the crown beyond the head, the thousand-petalled canticle, the hymnal lingers at the door to seek what's inside and afar off, the star that opens everywhere encompassing all and all. Trembling literal raise a whisper of light of perishable undaunted violent light to the heavens from within exploding outward through the star that's fallen from the sky and flowing once again through the body through the coursers and the rivulets and channels of the body through the lovely luxury clean replies of petals at each crossing whom the light belongs to wrapped up and from every candle rippling petals flickering the light progresses up and out and back through the body to the heavens once again. Be the star that he is one with it, with points and spheres and whirls of color dying daily. Be the light and behold it—for beyond the light is only the source of the light. And the source of the light is only he who is. Why lament the light and the source of the light when he is one with it, why suffer being separate and apart. He allows to be open the thousand petals thousand doors to every myriad channel and the light pours through him, directs from violet into white. The whiteness of all colors and all sound, the blessed chord of all vibrations all notes sounding together and at once, turning light into color into brightness into blossom abstract absence of substance torrents bursting out of breathing into sound all white and bright and standing in the middle of the sun there is no feeling left, there is only empty whiteness and a terrible savage tearing sound which is the absence of all notes because they all become as one. This is the
perfect point where all wishers wants are washed away, the circle point, the diameter circumference and center all in one. From unity there is no need, there is no angle to perceive. From oneness one whole note the prayers of the saints are whispers undenied, from one and only sound the exhibition of another angel with a golden censer floating and sinking can only perish exposed until it is no sound at all. From one whole and only light, there is no more singing, no more dance, there is only tapestry of white. The circle point, the center golden white, the source of every light. I am, in a word, in an instant, I am the point and the circle which is perfect every where and no where all at once. I am here and there, which is singularity and infinity and every moment locked into one, the circle and the point which knows no bounds, which knows and loves and is. I and he and others never wasn't, we will always be. The moment of beginning is a dreadnaught moment without end. The only every many one of whiteness and dazzling triumph cornets from the heavenly harp magnifical and mighty. The thousandfold and billionfold and myriads of millions of conspirators of particles of light are only really sound the single sound that made the ravening the rending falling out on the earth, are really only one sound that precipitates and propagates through whatever promise of joy could hold itself together long enough to love. There is only one, there is only I me I he I we am are he is I am us. There is only white bright sound light spell forth twanging single sound chord note behold bespoke to forthwith hold the white bright flagrant flashing light sound noise that's twanging back and forth behold the earth. There is only what he is and only what he is being through his seeing solid sea of sound.
Through his hearing solid spectacles of searing light. Through this one and only antiphony of sacred bliss, insomuch as he is and it is and there is only it, he is delivered to a glorified is and only is, he is pouring out his vial to the only vessel which can receive it, sending it out unto himself. He is and only that which is can be him. Can pour it out and send it unto himself and receive it. And then, behold a new thing. A second thing, an other thing. A seed of thought, a grain of sand that grows and grows, propelled by nothing more than the authority of his thinking. The word came forth, the thought that gives rise to everything in form is nothing more than the idea that there is separation, there can be more than one. Blessed is the man, the voice which gives authority to the word, and blessed is the thought, which is not a chastisement nor a blasphemy, blessed is the thought which moves the one into the many, for the one must know itself and feel the force of movement through the growing burgeoning wideness of the more than one. So—a seed of thought that grows and grows and here now everything erupts and goes out and on and fathers outward a cup filled with separation, lamps made precious with griefs with roared and roaring bosom secret places perfect decomposition slumping outward from perfection ignorable only here now everything explodes and goes on and exhilarates here now declare ye here how now goes out from past which is the one to future which is many, here now he is blown down to his knees with roaring through his hearing ears with seeing through his searing eyes here he on his knees is blown down as everything is trumpeted and shouted out and on and on, word thought deed word on reel and fisher soul of vast and shamed battalions mountains majestic presence
[shall return shall set forth] his image his aura injured his misery priceless and precise his alarm his etheric body and his every age and [plaything] and signal flame and retribution for his spirit and out and on it goes his everything explodes and dissipates and blasts itself onward as he sinks down to his knees his nostrils shrank his gazes through his Horus eyes are open and nations declaring and passage over seas and twilight liveries his flannel sweating through his shirt his trumpet call, his strings his keys and notes of the harp of stupendous magnitude and melody the red key the golden tannin beauty of the bottle, therefore on and outward he goes exploding and blasting onward from one thought that there is me and there is what is not me bursting forth from nowhere which is he: go set forth and propagate initiate and boil and burn, bait beyond the spiral exposition is expounding [shall gladly lead and instigate] and declare an adamant rejection of true sight and knowing go on and get ye hence go hear ye this O priests and hearken for there is only all the songs of things that bursting forth from him are: cash brow self-made startling soaring open air, are heart and mind and body, are certain joys and sycophants, are heavenward ridiculous inceptions, are rounding and resounding grapple calls strapping themselves besides the sky, are bosom untended and denying, so hear ye this O priests for wherewith undertaken in the exploding mysteries of light are many things [acolytes and Orion catbird calls] shall gladly lead and instigate, and all this is one moment, one instant wherein he has been driven to his knees by sound and light and many things exploding from the night, from his dreams and visions all distilled through the five-pointed beauty of the star in morning bright, from the oneness
with the only one and separating from the point and riven radius circumference. Driven to his knees his singing sound is resounding through him, his light and blessed heavenward inception calls a madness through him, clarion reception in a private point of starry pearl of light. And they said to him—wherefore art thou a madness and a madman—they say to him the one at the head of one end of the table and the other at the other end—first “What do you want?” then “What are you doing?” Then, he answered, if only in his mind [behold thy servant.] And he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened, if only in his mind. The book of revelations is a secondary symptom of a madman; only those who are insane can know beyond the solipsism of this world. And in a dim corner of his madness he hears them asking, hears them filter through the on-rushing explosion of the sound. [What are you doing?] Singing, living, knowing. Opening all the way to joy. Shouting out in pure preciseness piercing pain. Be gentle, for their souls are at work. Open all the way to joy. Song, is singing, song, song, song. Be kind, for creation is also their power now and ever after. He knows now that to have a dream he must fall asleep and forget that the dream is one with the dreamer. He must have fallen asleep like all the others here and now he sees them sleeping [while he is singing]. While he is awake now what was rejected becomes the corner-stone the basis and foundation of a mighty edifice he is awake and he is pure light as thought transcending bursting forth through him as song vibration through infinity channeled through as one resounding call and response antiphony, the call is I am and the response is that I am, crucified and slain the courses of the luminaries of the
heavens egress logic was asleep with nervous silver handicraft might control to Urizen to cloud-tracking holders-on with rolling lures direction precipice with heavenly eyes of Horus the gazers no particular life to suffering to Zion to blaspheme with the celestial city with the all-seeing one the solitude through changeful courage and eternity, he calls them by their names he savors as an ointment poured forth with invisible and dignified and decomposed with weeping sought the bare beginning famous for life a crown redeemed. I am light which is spirit which is energy which is projected through a screen of thought which is the idea of pure form which is as an angel standing in the sun and refracts the light into forms which manifest and express into the world of physical frozen light slowed down into objects manifest and beholden to the Lord. And the Lord is the Law of Laws which describes the forms and functions of the objects and the litanies of all the heavens and all the earth, in which way they must congregate and hold together and bear all within the bosom of their forms, which is the King of Kings, which is the Theory he sought and treasured in his days, the Lord of Lords. The Law of Laws decries that all things must turn back upon their maker, all things are emitted by their thoughts and forms through energy of spirit which is light of consciousness which is all, and refracted through the holographic screen of pure form idea they must remit and propagate and hence forth disintegrate and turn back unto their maker. So knowing this decrees it, showing this belies it, misunderstanding this is only one way to deny it. The Lord of Lords is and all ways will be was. He sees that all is thought and all is light, the King of Kings is a giant thought which came forth and always is and he is always part of
it. And as a giant thought triumphant holds together cleaves unto itself, which is what he has known as Gravity, pulls itself together always any part of it is held unto the one. And as the Lord of Lords is and always will be a giant thought composed of light, all things are made of light and traverse from one point to the next in the self-same always instant, so there is no time there is only separateness of thought or unity of thought, and the degree of separateness of thought decrees how far apart the one thing is from the many, how long ago or in the future is the deed. With thought and in thought the one can travel across the vastness span of light in the selfsame always instant so traversing future past and present into now, so transgressing here and there and every-where into one. With thought and in thought most thoughts are directed into otherness and into separated forms and so they are dreams of a myriad of forms a thousand thousands and ten thousand times ten thousand, and all these forms are of necessity a promulgation and transmission of the light of thought as in a dream. And dreams dissolve and dissipate when the dreamer wakes. All dreams resolve and withdraw again into the mind the consciousness of the dreamer. So while he is awake now the dream is resolved and the only pure vision is sound vibration light of conscious spirit [while he is singing] through his body resonating with the one true light which is the Lord of Lords. And he sees now that the first forms are the simplest and they are spiral toroids whirlwinds of light twisted around upon itself and always spinning in one direction or the other up or down around or across and these are the first and basic parts of transgression physical transmission and as above so below, so all things partake of this basic formula and forging
format. A human body spins and whirls with the same design as the selfsame particles that form it, for they are all projected, as above and as below, with light through the identical imaging and holographic screen. Encompass the breath of spirit, endeavor to unfold within a sheath light slowed down enough to pull together as a bright and insubstantial whirlwind of matter, the first-slung fouling come-together of glory. This is not the first time he has awakened and seen that the Lord of Lords is this: the Law of Laws is everything is rendered unto itself, everything unto itself is rendered. This is not the first time he has been awake and seen the Duat the Qa'aba the celestial chamber the lofty ones the eye of Horus the opening of the mouth and the shaking of the earth, the horn of the hidden place watched over by the phoenix bird which is the stairway to heaven. His name was given once when he did not die a second time, he has awakened not only once but a thousand times. Everything is expelled and whirls about and turns about and is rendered unto its maker. This is not the first time he has seen his lives and who he is and has been and will be all the same. He was a priest of Akkad and Shumer once he was a tailor in Chaldee he counted bales of wheat he will be a father of a glorious sun, he dried date palms and stomped on plains of withering mud in the ancient kingdom of Sesonchusis. On Saturn once he lived as a spirit intermediary between his lives on earth, his mind expressed in colors green and tan and blue, his love endowed with crystal flowers of methane and his wisdom flowed like winds through channels curling and unfurling at a thousand miles an hour. He bore a child once in Ur and died in the bearing, in ancient Armenia he scaled the highest peak and witnessed the

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