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Me menal ’ealth—or: the false doctrine of psychology expos’d, the kabbalah and tantra exposited

Updated: Nov 4, 2022



“You’re doing me head in, you’re messing with me menal ’ealth.” “He’s got issues, I don’t deal with people who have issues.” “Too right—he’s got more issues than Vogue magazine.” “You need to work on your coping strategies, mate”—mental health, how’s yours? Mine is terrible—and that’s a good thing, since mental health itself is a confected term not to be trusted. Here, for example, is an entry on the “compensation defence mechanism” on a website run by professional psychologists, people paid to improve your mental health:


“Jeffrey is bullied at school by the other boys because of his slim build. In response, Jeffrey exercises regularly. He undertakes an intense exercise program, drinks protein shakes, and is very diligent in his strength training.


He obtains the desired result. He puts on a great deal of muscle mass, and his body changes. In this instance, Jeffrey is compensating for what he considers to be a physical flaw through strength training.”


I think what stands out is that the behaviour described is perfectly rational, common sensical, and realistic—yet here it is pathologised, being linked to a defence mechanism (i.e. a means by which you hold reality at bay). So, as with so much else in the West, “psychology” is broken—since the “psych” in society stands for psyche, for “soul”, you could say our souls are broken. “Um. You’re making me feel a bit awkward, mate.” You don’t even have to take that religiously, I didn’t say our immortal souls were broken—on that subject, opinions differ—just our souls, the unique subjectivity that dwells within people.


So if psychology is corrupted, what is the answer? Naturally, kabbalah and tantra. I knew it—I knew he was working up to it, demonic occultism. Put it another way: folktales and fairytales. And what have they to do with kabbalah and tantra? They are kabbalah and tantra—all kabbalah means is “oral tradition” as opposed to written scripture. Hence my favourite books in the Bible are Ecclesiastes and Proverbs and these are, in essence, fairytales—or, as they say, “wisdom literature”.


From the rational perspective, folktales and fairytales represent compressed computational power—all those stories layered upon each other, evolutionarily adjusted with a little chip in each generation, provide the highest-resolution account of reality you can find: there is nothing more real than a fairytale. You can refer people to Shakespeare, Tolstoy, or Dostoyevsky for solace if you want, yet they are just individual men—and an individual mind, motivated by profit and vanity, can never match countless generations round the campfire; the campfire itself being an initiatory space, a light in the dark, where magic happens.


Besides, even men like Shakespeare, the maestro, are modern; hence in All’s Well That Ends Well we find: “They say miracles are past, and we have our philosophical persons to make modern and familiar, things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.” Shakespeare f*cking loved science; and he goes on to extol those “learned and authentic fellows” Paracelsus and Galen. So even Shakespeare—let alone Hamlet-like Tolstoy—was a disenchanted modern man, little magic there.


It is not just that folktales and fairytales represent, as we might say, 1,000 gigacrones of information; rather, we must understand the significance found in Carlyle’s remark: "All visible things are emblems . . . all Emblematic things are properly Clothes," and so, "Language is the Flesh-Garment, the Body, of Thought," and, "the Universe is but one vast Symbol of God,” as is, "man himself". All visible things are emblems for the divine, above all the animals are so; and some animals more so than others—the birds, for example, are angels. Fairytales, embedded in nature, record the universe that is but one symbol for God—no individual man can manage it.


The fox who stuck his head through a fence and the speckled cock that crowed in the afternoon are not just animals that deliver a cautionary moral—they are symbols for the divine itself, accreted through the generations in a way no one who tells a story for vanity or money can manage. Tantra and kabbalah treat the universe as one vast symbol for God—the tantrists speak the language of the birds; and, indeed, man himself is a symbol for God—Adam Kadom, the macrocosm for all mapped onto man himself.


So to read a fairytale or folktale is to read the divine; and this is why I would recommend a fairytale for anyone afflicted by melancholy or a broken heart—or even coma’d with a chemical straightjacket, if you have really and truly gone insane; they say music can charm beasts, cobras and wolves, and so too can the cosmic music in fairytales. It’s in the blood, though: the fairytale is particular, The Arabian Nights are too sensual—too arbitrary—for Europeans. No, the fairytale’s strength derives from the moment blood and land become gestalt—the tale must come from your own folk to really work.


Where are people most alienated from fairytales? Where is the most modern land? America—home of mental health. Yes, the Icelanders, the Swedes, and the Czechs are also depressed—and that is partly to do with climate and temperament but it is also to do with how modern they are, how detached from the divine symbols. Yet Americans are the most unfortunate, for no story in America can be older than 1492—and, being industrialised, they will never develop the generations, the 20,000 years behind a Celtic fairytale, required to let the land’s symbols speak to them (no nightly campfires, just flatscreens for all—they never even had a chance).


Strange to report, those quasi-folk authors Americans do have in lieu of fairytales, Washington Irving and HP Lovecraft, write horror stories. Lovecraft, inspired by the Greeks, thought he spoke to the genii locorum in Providence—and what they said was, “White man, get out!”. William S. Burroughs, taught about the Mayan gods in Mexico City by an old Lovecraft friend, said: “America is not a young land: it is old and dirty and evil. Before the settlers, before the Indians...the evil was there...waiting.” Hence the Europeans and Africans in America are bereft so far as fairytales go—the void is filled by psychology and…Disney.


Long before “woke” princesses and gay kisses, people said Disney was trash. Disney is trash because it is sentimental, it pulls its punches to make money. How will you ever tell a good story round a campfire if you pull your punches? The old woman is placed in a barrel studded with nails and rolled down the hill—yet this might upset the little tots, upset key demographics. Out goes the barrel. Yet, America, answer me this: what else to do with a witch? You have to bring the barrel back, America—it’s just no good otherwise. Bumpety-bump down the hillocky-hill—and there was much rejoicing in the hamlet…


Lily Allen, per the above video, worries bout ’er menal ’ealth—I mean, not really, she sings the lyrics ironically; yet, in a sense, all “mental health” is just an ironic joke—just a sardonic eye roll from Ms. Allen, a girl whose music is spiteful and unkind. You see, you have to really care about people to be as sharp and acidulous as our Lily, Lily lemon—so as she sings the lyric with cynicism and a half-wink to her narcissistic drama-queen sisters in the audience (she’s having one of her turns, as the Victorians said) lil miss Allen is simultaneously perfectly ready to make a straight-faced appeal for a menal ’ealth char’itay. “An important issue bound to affect many, many of our viewers,” intones the presenter, his torso slightly stiffened to convey his attentiveness to the gravity, “so if you’re having a mental health crisis seek help on the following freefone number…”—alternatively, just roll out the barrel.







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