Man of the End Times: Light out of Chaos
When the highest descends to the lowest, and the lowest rises to the highest; when the blessed waters descend to visit the dead stretched out, enchained, cast into the darkness and gloom of Hades, when the Pharmakon of life reaches them and awakens them, taking them out of sleep, right where they are; when the new waters penetrate… rising in the midst of Fire…The waters, on reaching them, awaken the chained and impotent bodies and spirits…, little by little they are unfolded, ascend, redressed and are seen in living and glorious colors, like flowers in spring. Ostanes
As in Plato’s allegory of the cave, throughout the ages humanity has witnessed merely shadows, not only of universal values, but also of the universal feminine and masculine archetypes. These have been, both in historical and in widely concerned “modern” times, heavily distorted by cultural, economic and geopolitical shifts that have influenced patterns of human behavior worldwide. It was rightly stated by Friedrich Wilhelm Schelling that historical and prehistoric times are not merely relative differences between one and the same time, they are two essentially different kinds of time completely removed from one another, and mutually exclusive. […]… full of events, but of quite another sort, and conforming to quite a different law. Modern man is hence an imitation of the distorted shadow of his prehistoric archetype, and between the ideal and the imitation there is an enormous gap, hard to be filled, because the ideal and the imitation belong to two different realms, and civilization has demolished the bridge between the two of them. Throughout the ages humanity has forgotten how to link these spheres with a safe passage. This is parallel to what René Guénon understands as the abyss between tradition, connected with the metaphysical sphere, and the custom, connected with the physical “human” sphere either because of distortion or because of its origin. Hence, there is a disparity between the warrior archetype and a modern soldier, between the blacksmith archetype and a modern metalworker, between the alchemist archetype and a chemist, between the shaman archetype and a priest. One might realize that these differences are merely a marker of shifting eras, but – in fact – it is not important what is “old” and what is “new”. The existence of “the old” and “the new” is obvious, connected with inevitable progress which comes out of human nature. Nevertheless, the lack of understanding of what has been lost in the abyss between the prehistoric and the historic, between the metaphysical and the mundane, as well as our inability to (re?)create a bridge between these spheres, makes us less powerful as human beings. The longer we, as humanity, look into this shadowy gap without comprehension, the more it becomes littered with false promises of materialism, liberalism, pop-culture and pseudo-intellectualism, and thus the more fiercely the darkness looks back at us. In the era of undoubtable transhumanism and in the face of growing disillusionment connected with its outcomes, it is, however, what the abyss lacks (or hides!), not what the abyss has been littered with, that slowly begins to interest us. In the rapidly shifting world, we have experienced many transitions of the masculine archetype, but now – as we proceed into the end of times and, hence, into an inevitable beginning of a new era – we might be getting closer to actually experiencing the renewal of the purest, universal forms, re-appearing from the chaos, re-appearing deep from the darkness of the abyss, from outside of Plato’s cave. The reality, in its metaphysical meaning, is being born again out of longing, and with the reality comes the archetypical man: the one who brings the fire of creation along with a storm and the one who brings the light of knowledge out of the darkness.
Prehistoric man: warmth out of coldness
In the widely concerned prehistory and early history, the survival of an individual or of a tribe depended mostly on foraging. When the human urge of constant development remained in its embryonic state of dormant potentiality, tribes living in the moderate climate found themselves surrounded by natural resources. Nomadic communities remained small, the needs of both an individual and of a tribe were basic and resources abundant (or at least sufficient), hence the role of a man as a hunter or a gatherer easily fit into the picture of changing seasons, which later had its reflection in agriculture. In the times of glaciation, within the icebound regions, however, conditions were harsher, survival was harder, and so was man. In both cases, the tie between prehistoric man and natural resources was direct and based upon his instinct of survival rather than upon an urge of a long-term gain. Dependence on the workings of time was therefore crucial in the hunter-gatherer cultures, as well as in early agricultural ones. A man and his role in the society was dependent either on changing seasons or on the changing weather. Winter was the time to hunt, because this is when we need animal fat to keep our bodies warm. During the summer, however, humans could easily survive on (mostly) collecting wild plants, fishing or, later, harvesting crops. When it comes to tribes living in the colder climate, snow storms constituted the time to wait and the lack of snow storms was the time to forage for whatever could be found. In both cases, unity with the changing natural environment and clearly marked periods of activity and rest are crucial.
Since the dawn of history, caves have been considered sacred for two reasons. Firstly, they were places of rest, for example from a snow storm, and secondly they were “wombs” of Mother Earth. More precisely, the ritual role of caves is connected with the mystical return to the womb of Mother Earth. Caves were hence places of regeneration and rebirth, both physical and spiritual. Not without reason does the Slavic deity of spring, Jarilo (Ярило/Jaryło/Juraj/Jarilo/Jarovit), as well as his numerous equivalents worldwide descend into the subterranean sphere for the time of winter and come out every spring to bring the rebirth of nature. Not surprisingly then, cave paintings are not simple representations of hunting scenes, as the skill involved in these paintings usually transcends the skill of an average man. Archeologists interpret them as a form of “hunting magic” which was supposed to multiply the number of animals, and it is claimed that the paintings were made by Palaeolithic shamans.
A shaman, who enters alternate states of consciousness in the womb of Mother-Earth, transcends regular masculine duties of hunting and gathering and cares for his tribe in an entirely different way. In a prophetic frenzy, he becomes one with the subterranean world of darkness and humidity, normally identified with the feminine sphere, and brings heat (fire) and light (knowledge) out of the coldness and darkness. Therefore, prehistoric cultures picture the one who acts in the sphere of sacrum – a shaman, healer or a sorcerer – as the master of fire. The Scandinavian god Wotan (later called Odin), an equivalent of the Slavic chthonic deity Veles (Волос), is worth noting here. First of all, he gets ridiculed by the other gods as the one who reaches for what is normally considered the feminine realm. He hangs on an ash tree for nine days in order to reach the well of hidden runic knowledge. In ethnography, the meaning of the well is parallel to that of the cave. Adam von Bremen wrote “Wotan, id est furor”; not surprisingly, “wut” stands, just as “furor” or “ferg”, for fury but also for an enormous heat . Heat and fury, including prophetic fury, are then combined. In Polish, the word “zagniewany” means “furious”. “Agni”, is Sanskrit, stands for “fire” and “z”, in Polish, means “from”. Hence, “zagniewany” (furious) means something, or someone, “from fire” and is perhaps one of the oldest words in today’s Indo-European languages .
Interestingly enough, Wotan is, similarly to Japanese ma-hitotsu (“one eyed”, the deity who transmitted the techniques of iron smelting to humanity), devoid of his left eye. Blindness and deformities are unchangeably connected with acts of sacrifice in order to reach for what is normally unavailable, for what is hidden, to transmit it to humanity. According to Iwanow and Toporow, the Slavic god Veles was also one-eyed and was certainly one of the chthonic-aquatic subterranean domain of magic and spirits. Not surprisingly, Veles is the deity of prophetic frenzy and altered states of consciousness. For a reason then, in folk tradition, including of course the Christian one, a blind wanderer is attributed prophetic powers and holds the role of a bard. Poetry is, after all, traditionally (according to most of the world’s sacred texts) assigned to the same realm as magic or hidden knowledge: normally the feminine sphere which, however, can bring greatness only to outstanding individuals, and those individuals are exclusively male.
Early historic man: fire of creation
Along with the Bronze Age, humanity learned that time was not of the essence anymore. Men’s hands and brains partially became the substitute of time. We developed techniques of acquisition, preservation and storing of food and began to lead a more settled way of everyday life, at the same time developing trade networks and areas of broader, indirect influence. The transformation of earthly ores was taken out of its natural, physical and time barriers, by excavation, to the hands of a blacksmith who, just as time itself, had power over elements. As stated by Mircea Eliade, blacksmiths strike their anvils exactly like the storm gods strike the Earth with “the stones of thunders” (Blacksmiths and Alchemists, p. 29). The divine attribute of this sort was formerly a stone or a thunder and later a double axe or a hammer. A storm, in turn, stands for hierogamy of heaven with the Earth. Metallurgy, hence, replaced the god of heavens with a strong fertile male, or rather attributed a strong fertile male with some of the qualities of the uranic deity . The idea of creation ex nihilo accomplished by the uranic deity was pushed aside, in favour of creation by hierogamy with elements of sacrifice.
The ritual kindling of fire is an reenactment of the birth of the world. This is why all fire at the end of the year is extinguished (reenactment of cosmic Night) and lit up again on the first day of the New Year (the repetition of cosmogony, ritual birth of the world). The fire, however, keeps its ambivalent character: it is of godly origin yet it is also “demonic”.
(Eliade, p. 40)
Having more physical attributes than the uranic deity, but still fulfilling the act of creation, the god of thunder becomes hence the manifestation of the will of the highest force in the universe, just as the Holy Ghost in the Trinity is the manifestation of God’s will. In the Bible, the Holy Ghost is compared to the wind. Not surprisingly, the wind and the thunder belong to the same sphere (both mundane and metaphysical) of the storm. The thunder/stone/axe/hammer wielding deity is than an acolyte of the heavenly God, and the blacksmith is a terrestrial human acolyte of the thunder deity. This is why blacksmiths formerly held sacred roles in a society and this is why in all pre-Christian beliefs the deity with creational powers was a man, and a blacksmith. This of course is not so different to the Christian idea. Christianity, as opposed (for some reason) to former belief systems, is nowadays frequently criticized for being “patriarchal”. Yet those who put an equality mark between the existence of male creational force (either in its metaphysical or physical meaning) and patriarchy, and further between patriarchy and male chauvinism, seem not to understand the universal balance of powers and, paradoxically, seem not to appreciate the purpose of female “static” role in the course of being. The static role is crucial too: it is the one of giving birth and, secondly, it is the one of keeping and cherishing the fire, whereas it is the man who ignites the fire in the first place by symbolic friction. Then, the division between what is “Christian” and what is “pre-Christian” or “super-Christian” (as H.T. Hansen names it in the preface to Evola’s Hermetic Tradition) has little to do with the real state of things and is mostly notional – belongs to the world of distorted shadows, just as the division between “the old” and “the new”. Forces in cosmos, or divine attributes, are universal. It is a linguistic truism. So are, hence, the archetypes that come from the very same pattern as the universal forces.
Apart from a blacksmith, it was then an alchemist, who had been considered sacred, because he dealt with similarities between the micro- and macrocosm and aspired to use the analogies, the repetitive patterns within all large and all small things in the universe, for the purpose of creation. When an alchemist learned to control and use these patterns, he became a micro version of the masculine creational force – a resemblance of God, who is to produce gold out of minor ores (mostly in an internal, metaphysical sense). After all, man was created in the image and likeness of the God.
An alchemist takes over traditional, very close to the Chinese notion, identification of mico- and macrocosm. The universal five wu-xing (water, fire, timber, gold, earth) have their equivalents in the organs of human body: the heart parallels fire, the liver parallels timber, the lungs parallel metal, the kidneys parallel water and the stomach earth.[…] Human who is obviously an equivalent of the macrocosm has in his body all elements that constitute the universe and all the vital forces ensuring its cyclic regeneration. It is all about strengthening some of the essences. Hence comes the meaning of cinnabar, based not as much on its red colour (the colour of blood, life’s alkaline) as on the fact that in fire it transforms into mercury.
(Eliade, p.124)
The motif of fire, known from the shaman and the blacksmith archetypes, is hence preserved, and connected with the heart. Red is the colour of cinnabar, in Chinese alchemy used for the acquisition of philosopher’s stone/immortality. It is also a broadly known as the colour of social change and revolution, of war and of conquer. It is the colour of terrestrial fire, as well as of fury and passion. Now, we have to ask ourselves: who, traditionally, has fire at heart? The man of the woman? The answer is obvious: the man, especially the eastern man: from the very far East all the way to Eastern Europe and Poland. This fire is both godly-creational, as it is “demonic”: this very fire at heart, combined with external forces that manipulate the flame, has made Slavic (and eastern in general) nations often tragically fight each other instead of working together.
In alchemy, the red colour of earthly fire stands above white. For this very reason René Guénon criticized Evola’s notion of alchemy as a complete metaphysical doctrine. According to Guénon, alchemy was a path attributed to Kshatriyas (the warrior caste), whereas only the Brahmins were truly devoted to the metaphysics. The symbolic difference between the red and the white is the same as the difference between the highest uranic God and the manifestation or aspect of the highest uranic God in the form of a thunder deity. In alchemy, however, red represents the highest stage and stands above white, so the active state stands higher than the contemplative state. Evola sets the “purple king” as a bridge builder between Heaven and Earth (Hermetic Tradition, p. 87). Jesus Christ loses his purple robes, which become replaced with the white ones. Later, he dies on the cross and becomes resurrected. The red (purple) aspect marks, therefore, the transition of the archetype of masculine greatness from the active/mundane/physical to the contemplative/metaphysical. What is more, it leads to the shamanistic chthonic sphere of death and consequently back to the uranic one of resurrection. Rosicrucian depiction of this transitional active state is a red rose blooming out of the Cross; the Cross itself, in turn, is a graphic depiction of the “fall” into sacrifice and death (horizontal line), being reborn underneath the earth (the lower part of the vertical line) and resurrection (upper part of the vertical line). Such depiction is paralleled by pre-Christian symbol of sun wheel, resembling the cross: the Sun, after all, descends and “dies” below the horizon, in the subterranean realm, in order to be born again and raise to “heavens”. The cross has then a magical meaning, beautifully captured in an Old Church Slavonic prayer Да воскреснет Бог:
[…] радуйся, Пречистый и Животворящий Кресте Господень, прогоняяй бесы силою на тебе пропятаго Господа нашего Иисуса Христа, во ад сшедшаго, и поправшаго силу диаволю, и даровавшаго нам тебе Крест Свой Честный на прогнание всякого супостата.
Blessed be, ever-pure and life-sustaining Cross of the Lord, which devils disperse by the power of crucified onto you our master Jesus Christ who descended to hell, trampled onto devilish forces and gave you to us: the Cross worshipful to drive away whatever enemy.
[tr.: A.R.]
Inevitably, in historical times, a fighting-when-necessary-hunter/gatherer shifted into a warrior archetype (still keeping, at times, his clear bond with nature, for example by berserk/battle frenzy) to eventually shift into the archetype of a knight or a legionary, gaining high social status and discipline but losing independence and direct survivalist attributes of his prehistoric predecessor. Along with civilizational development, the knight, disregarding his high status, had in turn become an instrument in the clash of shifting powers, and hence his individual “flame” had often been manipulated for the higher good of the state. Eventually, his skill, both mental and physical, was partially replaced and later pushed aside by the invention of gun powder (and other inventions), which further consequences we witnessed in the 20th century during the two world wars. As a civilizational pattern, it is somewhat parallel to the shift of the idea of a shrine: previously a stream, a well or a cave had been replaced with soaring temples made of stone and gold, and the shaman became replaced with the priest (of similar meaning, but of different form, scale and focus). In mythology, after all, the thunder wielding deity, the active manifestation of the heavenly God, fights the subterranean deity of hidden knowledge, often represented by a dragon or a snake. This way, the man enters an internal battle with himself, becomes the suppressor of his own “dark” nature of reaching to the unknown subterranean spheres of tranquility and individual survival of himself/his family/his tribe. Thus, he enters the mode of masculine force of creation and progress on a wide collective scale, often ascribed to the objectives of the state. The urge of constant progress is hence both his connate blessing and a curse, being both sacred and demonic, just as the fire itself.
The modern man: the ultimate triumph of the homo faber
In the industrial era, man’s hands and brain became partially replaced by the machine, according to the same pattern that time had previously been replaced by blacksmiths’ hands. This way, in a blink of an eye, masculine role in a society changed its form and its scale, but did not necessarily change its meaning. A blacksmith became a modern metallurgist, losing his exclusive role in a community as well as his introvert, shamanistic attributes and the possibility of slow, palpable work with the elements and ores. The mining industry development diminished the cultural and spiritual role of ores by massive excavation. The abyss between the universal world of metaphysics and the “practical” world of modern progress was hence magnified and what, in the long gone (mythological at that point) past, used to be considered sacred, became strictly economic. On the other hand, the society gained a somewhat inclusive possibility to contain thousands of micro performers of the creational act, this way gaining indisputable material progress and reaching a form of greatness. Humanity got a hold of real, somewhat dangerous power to physically create on a massive scale; this way, the state became a micro version of an universal creational force and an ordinary worker became a part of it. Therefore, industrial revolution transformed an ordinary worker into a terrestrial personification of the mythological storm deity: the one of a thunder, a hammer, an axe or a stone. As Eliade notices, it is difficult not to notice the triumph and even supremacy of the homo faber (p.105) here. Homo faber motif, in turn, is ancient and archetype-based, for in all the myths and folklore about blacksmiths who act according to God’s will, the divine act of creation of tools is evident. Demiurgic features of the one who makes and uses tools in order to create is obvious. Hence, even though the abyss between “the archetypical” and “the modern” had been magnified in the industrial era and even though the two of them are definitely to be considered “different kinds of time”, the link between them was still not entirely lost.
19th century capitalism, however, made the tangible effects of the work of homo faber largely unavailable to the “regular” homo faber himself. The direct link between man’s hands and brains was lost and the heart was taken out of the picture both on a collective and an individual level (which is artistically but still very well portrayed in Fritz Lang’s film Metropolis). An artificial form of individualism, in the form of inorganic social Darwinism, largely developed, often making the least socially responsible ones and the least physically-able-to-create, own the tools and play the “brain” part to take command over creative hands of other males. In the effect, the creational male and his latter version of homo faber became a depersonalized instrument of production, rather “rented out” to work for the benefit of others than being able to create and provide for his family or community. Becoming unable to derive either spiritual or material satisfaction out of his work, the man based his existence mostly on simple individual economic survival in the growing chain of virtual dependency and subjection which deprived him of either metaphysical or practical afterthought. Communism, socialism and syndicalism were a reaction to such a state of things, attempting to align the balance between the worker’s physical effort and his physical gain by providing him and his family with an economic equivalent to the worker’s contribution into the existence and progress of the whole state (which is often criticized as a “materialist” approach, whereas in fact materialism had been grounded into every aspect of our civilization much earlier and, at some point, impossible to avoid for those who wanted not to die of hunger or cold). In large societies, even distribution seemed thus the only way to make regular homo faber take his proper, or semi-proper (corresponding with the times he lived in), role in a society.
The post-modern man: light out of chaos?
From beneath the collapse of the Soviet Union emerged a wave of Western influence and ascendancy, more and more often dressed up in its new robes of “freedom” and “progress” (having nothing to do with either), along with its cultural and political sabotage, and it was followed by transhumanism in its purest form. Directly out of it, so called “leftist” movements were born, replacing homo faber with homo ludens, and replacing real socialism with new, so called, “socialism” largely based upon (again!) cultural sabotage, wishful thinking, meaningless phrases and non-analytical approach to economy and geopolitics. Along with imperialist neocon powers and the unipolar atlanticist vision of the world, it created conceptual confusion, in European politics best expressed by the artificial division between “left wing” and “right wing”, and in the cultural sphere best expressed by the absurdity of so called “cultural Marxism” (having nothing to do either with culture or with Marxism). Moreover, the worst form of individualism has prevailed: not the reflective one of reaching to the unseen and transcending one’s barriers for the broader benefit, but the artificial one of extremely short - term gratification, both economic and sensory, of an individual and hence of selfishness, sluggishness and social or cultural irresponsibility. Thus, both the white (spiritual) and red (active) features of the masculine power have been eradicated. Facing hard laws of international markets, the man lost his feeling (or even the possibility of fulfilling!) of his social responsibility, both direct and indirect. He lost control over his own acts of creation and became largely devoid of the conscious will to create as he does not see a positive outcome of his creational power anymore. In numerous parts of the world very few man, who themselves often have no true creational attributes, skills of affiliation towards any broader community, have privately appropriated major parts of resources and means of extracting and transforming these resources into actual goods and tangible assets. Mass production devoid of any form of social responsibility whatsoever, creates in turn a sloppy attitude towards the act of creation itself, which in the prosaic life is seen in an extremely low quality of products as well as in their over-abundancy.
Not surprisingly, along with the fall of the ethos of homo faber, in the modern colonies real jobs have been eradicated, which not only wasted the potential of entire generations of men, but also deprived many nations of their sovereignty. In the most “lucrative” parts of central and eastern Europe which has gotten under the western influence, farming has been destroyed along with the farmer who became an unproductive debtor to foreign banks, and industry has been destroyed along with a miner and a metalworker who became unemployed (or employed in areas having nothing to do with their skills) debtors to foreign banks. A system of invisible, intangible services has been created, bonding millions of men in a trap of virtual services, virtual assets and, what is worst of all, virtual jobs in which neither brains nor hands can be used on a regular scale. Generations of men brought up in this toxic environment of virtual dependencies, proved neither to be manly enough in a standard way as most of them was not given a chance to, nor manly enough in a figurative way imposed by social Darwinism of the world run by corporations. In the countries most destroyed by liberalism, artificial “progress” and western neo-imperialism, both men and women have become, simply, tired of this tension. Short-term gratification of individual credit worthiness and “blessings” of pop-culture do not suffice anymore.
This, in turn, creates a feeling of suppressed disillusionment and constant dissatisfaction and leads to an imbalance on an enormous scale. All over the world, too much natural resources, too many hands, too many brains and too many machines are involved into a profit and satisfaction of too few. In the reality where few men possess the means of production and several people have as much assets as the half of the world, there is very little room for a normal male to actually “be a man” in the way in which we have learned to perceive “being a man” in the capitalist world.
For that reason, more and more men rebel against the role they have been reduced to. They refuse to be virtual-assets making machines, buried under tons of paperwork and formalities that are supposed to anesthetize their internal need to create, to work, to transform, to sweat, to think. This is why so many men, over the last decades, have unsuccessfully tried to find their own place in the society of corporate exploitation and bureaucracy. But no form of a “small private business” or virtual services, no form of superficially comfortable life (in debt) and any other liberal promise has brought them success or feeling of fulfillment. The alternative is of course joining the army, but this only works in the areas of the world where one can truly fight for a good cause.
In this way have so-called (in the falling era) “losers” , “escapists” or even “madmen” been created - men who realize that they are not allowed to act like men, so they refuse to act at all or they, growingly often, search for an entirely alternative way of living. This phenomenon, at the time being, is developing; those “children” of precarious societies who had been seen as “losers” until not so long ago begin to be 1) class- and self-aware, 2) more and more better off than the ones who had lived in the dream-world of short term gratification and liberal promises. This is seen in various areas of life: from the growing popularity of small craftsmanship as well as self-sufficiency based either on small farming or even survivalism, up to mass avoidance of the military service within the atlanticist-controlled units, and choosing sides rather than serving the unipolar imperialist vision. Those men are often what Nietzsche called the “longing” ones:
I love those who know not how to live except in decline, for they are the over-goers. I love the great despisers, because they are the great worshippers, and arrows of longing for the other shore.
For where longing is born, afterthought and greatness are slowly being reborn.
The “other shore” is the metaphysical realm where the primordial archetype, or Nietzschean “overman”, waits to be rediscovered and embraced. Out of constant dissatisfaction always comes the longing, sooner or later.
The abyss between the masculine archetype and the man of the end of times is longing itself.
Everywhere in the world, there are people who are waking up into the light of the new era, who come with the light of longing from the deepest darkness of idle dissatisfaction.
This is the time of longing, time of slow action, time of tranquility in the ostensible surrounding of noise, degradation and death. It is similar to the shamanistic act of finding life among the death and finding light in the dark, of finding warmth and fire in the cold. The flame of the New Era is not, however, red. It is white, like the Scandinavian deity Balder, who comes after Ragnarök to mark the beginning of the new era, like the Slavic Swarożyc/Svarozic, like the light of the return of Jesus Christ. This is where, while the alchemist and blacksmith, where the metallurgist and the miner and the farmer have been killed, the shaman or the prophet re-appears: the most powerful of the virile archetypes, because he is the one who reaches for what is seemingly unavailable. He is the man crossing his barriers - not merely one of the thousands of bridges to the overman, but the destination of the bridge. And exactly like a woman, whose greatness and barrier crossing appears positively only when she keeps her basic feminine attributes (this is why modern feminists will never succeed), masculine greatness comes from crossing one’s barriers without losing the masculine attributes. This is why reaching for greatness, bringing light from the dark, bringing creation out of chaos and bringing the human back from transhumanism, will never be available to the ones who let themselves become brainwashed by pop-culture into either a feminized “open minded” leftist or a narrow minded neo conservative war monger. Prevailing into the new era will not be available for the masses of men, who have learned to compromise their life as incapable machines and slaves working with virtual services, for virtual assets, for virtual masters, for transitory satisfaction. Neither will it be available to those who do not respect the multipolar vision of the world. As Prof. Dugin puts it, “the absolute beginning is within reach of the (left) hand”. The left, of course, stands for the mystery, introvertism, darkness, chaos and disorder. Out of it, as in all demiurgic acts, will come light and life. Out of it will come survival in the new era, hence: immortality, the real philosopher’s stone.
BIBLIOGRAPHY:
"Cave Painting." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, 02 Feb. 2017. Web. 17 Feb. 2017.
Dronke, Ursula. The Poetic Edda. N.p.: n.p., 2001. Print.
Eliade, Mircea, and [trans.] Leder, A. Kowale i Alchemicy (Blacksmiths and Alchemists: polish edition). Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Aletheia, 2007. Print.
Evola, Julius, and Rehmus, E.E.. The Hermetic Tradition: Symbols and Teachings of the Royal Art. Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions International, 1995. Print. Including Foreword by Hansen, H.T.
Guénon, R. Initiation and Spiritual Realization, Hillsdale NY 2001
Nietzsche, Friedrich, and Berent, W.. Tako Rzecze Zaratustra. Koszalin: Kurtiak I Ley Wydawnictwo Artystyczne, 2007. Print.
Schelling, F.W.J. Einleitung in die Philosophie der Mythologie. 1856. Reprint. Darmstadt 1976.