Tuesday, 16 December 2014

Hitchcock, Freemasonry and Neckties.

"I have not become the King's First Minister in order to preside over the liquidation of the British Empire. ...

I am proud to be a member of that vast commonwealth and society of nations and communities gathered in and around the ancient British monarchy, without which the good cause might well have perished from the face of the earth. 

Here we are, and here we stand, a veritable rock of salvation in this drifting world...." -Winston Churchill, 1942

N.B. - The emboldened annotations to Crowley's published article below were made by a previous commentator on the piece and represent, in my view, a conscious dissemination of disinformation on the part of that unnamed party, relating as they do to clues embedded within Crowley's narrative that he claims we purposely and liberally sprinkled throughout by Crowley, that hint at the true source of his information, that indeed Crowley himself was the (sole) Whitechapel Murderer, and is this toying with the reader and his public whilst all the while enjoying a nice, quiet sociopathic gloat of superiority at having hoodwinked (key phrase) everyone with these rumours and urban legends his article is intended to begin seeding throughout Zeitgeist of the British Public.

What this particular avenue of analysis ignores, glosses over and implicitly dismisses out of hand (intentionally, in my view) is the established FACT of a high-level (the highest in the land, even) go-slow and then cover-up on the part of the authorities, all with the investigative and legal choke points in the control of half a dozen extremely senior Master Freemasons, each just a heartbeat or two away from the Crown itself.

Of the existence of a cover-up, there can be no doubt - ipso facto, what you are dealing with then in this case is a conspiracy (or more likely at least two, the act and then the cover-up of the act by others, along the JFK/Warren Commission and Nixon-Watergate model), by definition, and the prima face public facts show it to be an overtly Masonic Conspiracy in character.

You therefore have to evaluate 33rd Degree Master Mason Alistair Crowley's information by first assigning a qualitative value to it with respect to potential conscious deception and counterintelligence sent to jam your deeper understanding of the true facts of the case.




To acquire a friendly feeling for a system, to render it rapidly familiar, it is prudent to introduce the Star to which the persons of the drama are attached. It is hardly one's first, or even one's hundredth guess, that the Victorian worthy in the case of Jack the Ripper was no less a person than Helena Petrovna Blavatsky. She has, however, never been unveiled to the unthinking multitude; very few, even of those who have followed her and studied her intently for years, have the key to that "Closed Palace of the King."

     If the reader happens to have passed his life in the study of what is nauseatingly known as "occult science," he would, if he were sufficiently intelligent, grasp one fact firmly; that is, that the persons sufficiently eminent in this matter who have become known as teachers, are bound to have possessed in overflowing measure the sense of irony and bitter humour. This greatest treasure in their characters is their only guarantee against going mad, and the way they exercise it is notably by writing with their tongues in their cheeks, or making fools of their followers. H. P. B. is known by the profane and vulgar as an old lady who played tricks and was exposed; but her motives were not what such persons supposed. These tricks were a touchstone for her followers; if they were so little understanding of the true nature of her Work that any incidents of this kind affected in the smallest degree their judgement, then the sooner she was rid of them the better.
     The truth of H. P. B., as in the case of any artist, is to be known by a study of her best work; in this case a small volume called The Voice of the Silence.
     One of the closest followers of H. P. B., and in the sphere of literature unquestionably the most distinguished, with the possible exception of J. W. Brodie-Innes, was a woman named Mable Collins. Her novel, The Blossom and the Fruit, is probably the best existing account of the theosophic theories presented in dramatic form. One of the great virtues acclaimed and defended by this lady was that of chastity. She did not go quite as far as the girl made famous by Mr Harry Price upon the Brocken a few years ago, whose terror of losing the jewel of her maidenhood was such that she thought it unsafe to go to bed without the protection of a man; but Mable Collins had considerable experience of this form of chastity a deux; at the same time, reflecting that one of the points of H. P. B.'s mission was to proclaim the Age of the Woman, she occasionally chose a female for her bed-fellow.
     Some few years before Whitechapel achieved its peculiar notoriety, the white flame of passion which had consumed the fair Mabel and her lover, who passed by the name of Captain Donston, had died down; in fact he had become rather more than less of a nuisance; and she was doing everything in her power to get rid of him. Naturally eager to assist in this manoeuvre was her new mistress, a lady passing under the name of Baroness Cremers, whose appearance and character are very fully and accurately described in a novel called Moonchild.
     An American woman of the name of Cremers. Her squat stubborn figure was clad in rusty-black clothes, a man's except for the skirt; it was surmounted by a head of unusual size, and still more unusual shape, for the back of the skull was entirely flat, and the left frontal lobe much more developed than the right; one could have thought that it had been deliberately knocked out of shape, since nature, fond, as it may be, of freaks, rarely pushes asymmetry to such a point.
     There would have been more than idle speculation in such a theory; for she was the child of hate, and her mother had in vain attempted every violence against her before her birth.
     The face was wrinkled parchment, yellow and hard; it was framed in short,thick hair, dirty white in colour; and her expression denoted that the utmost cunning and capacity were at the command of her rapacious instincts.
     But her poverty was no indication that they had served her and those primitive qualities had in fact been swallowed up in the results of their disappointment. For in her eye raved bitter a hate of all things, born of the selfish envy which regarded the happiness of any other person as an outrage and affront upon her. Every thought in her mind was a curse - against God, against man, against love, or beauty, against life itself. She was a combination of the witch-burner with the witch; an incarnation of the spirit of Puritanism, from its sourness to its sexual degeneracy and perversion.
     A prolonged contemplation of the above portrait may possibly fertilize the seed of doubt in some minds as to whether this woman was in every respect an ideal companion on one's passage through this vale of crocodile tears; but tastes differ, and she certainly mastered exquisite Mable Collins, turned her against her teacher, persuaded her to embark on the most contemptible campaign of treacheries. For, recognizing in H. P. B. one of the messengers sent from time to time by the Masters to take a hand at the carpenter's bench where humanity is slowly shapened, she thought that to destroy her would be as acceptable to the powers of darkness as could be imagined.
     Of Donston less is known [ROSLYN D'ONSTON WAS SO CLOSE IN HIS ANALYSIS OF THE CASE OF JACK THE RIPPER, HE COULD HAVE EASILY EXPOSED CROWLEY IN LATTER YEARS]; it is believed that he was a cavalry officer, of the Household Cavalry at that, but under another name. Cremers tried to persuade people that he had been caught cheating at cards, but there is no reason to suppose that any disgrace attached to his leaving the Service. He was by all accounts a sincere sympathiser with the sufferings of our maudite race; his profession was obviously of no particular use to him, holding these sentiments, and apparently he drifted first into studies medical, and (later) theological. He was a man of extremely aristocratic appearance and demeanour; his manners were polished and his whole behaviour quiet, gentle, and composed; he gave the impression of understanding any possible situation and of ability to master it, but he possessed that indifference to meddling in human affairs which often tempers the activity of people who are conscious of their superiority.
     These three people were still living together in Mabel Collins' house in London; but as previously hinted, they were trying to get rid of him. This, however, was not an altogether easy task. The reputation of the novelist was a very delicate flower, and in the early days of her beguine for Donston she had written him many scores of letters whose contents would hardly have appeared altogether congruous with the instructive and elevating phrases of The Blossom and the Fruit.
     Now, although Donston was so charming and pleasant a personality, although his graciousness was so notable, yet behind the superficial gentleness it was easy to recognize an iron will. His principal motif was righteousness; if he thought anything his duty, he allowed nothing else to stand in the way of performing it, and for one reason or another he thought it right to maintain his influence over Mable Collins. One theory suggests that he was loyal to H. P. B., and thought it essential to fight against the influence of Cremers. This, at any rate, is what she thought, and it made her all the more anxious to get rid of him; judging everybody by herself, she was quite sure he would not hesitate to use the love-letters in case of definite breach; so, to carry out her scheme, the first procedure must obviously be to obtain possession of the compromising packet and destroy it.
     The question immediately arose -- where is it? Donston, with most men of his class, was contemptuously careless of interference with his private affairs; he left everything unlocked; but there was, however, a single exception to this rule. One of the relics of his career in the cavalry was a tin uniform case, and this he kept under his bed very firmly secured to the brass frame-work. This, of all his receptacles, was the only one which was always kept locked. From this, Cremers deduced that as likely as not the documents of which she was in search were in the trunk, and she determined to investigate at leisure.
     In those days, transport in London was almost slower than today; from Bayswater or Bloosbury -- memory is not quite sure as to where they lived -- to the Borough was certainly more than a Sabbath day's journey; the only evidence of speed in the whole city was the telegraph. Accordingly Cremers arranged one day for a telegram to be dispatched to Donston, informing him that some friend or near relative had met with a street accident, had been taken to Guy's Hospital, and wanted to see him. Donston immediately started off on this fictitious errand. As he left the house, Mabel laughingly warned him not to get lost and run into Jack the Ripper.
     While he is changing busses, it may be proper to explain that these events coincided with the Whitechapel murders. On the day of his journey, two or three of them had already been committed -- in any case sufficient to start talk and present the murderer with his nick-name. All London was discussing the numerous problems connected with the murders; in particular it seemed to everybody extraordinary that a man for whom the police were looking everywhere could altogether escape notice in view of the nature of the crime. It is hardly necessary to go into the cannibalistic details, but it is quite obvious that a person who is devouring considerable chunks of raw flesh, cut from a living body, can hardly do so without copious evidence on his chest.
     One evening, Donstan had just come in from the theatre -- in those days everyone dressed, whether they liked it or not -- and he found the women discussing this point. He gave a slight laugh, went into the passage, and returned in the opera cloak which he had been wearing to the theatre. He turned up the collar and pulled the cape across his shirtfront, made a slight gesture as if to say: "You see how simple it is;" and when a social difficulty presented itself, he remarked lightly: "Of course you cannot have imagined that the man could be a gentleman," and added: "There are plenty going about the East End in evening dress, what with opium smoking and one thing and another."
     After the last of the murders, an article appeared in the newspaper of W. T. Stead, the Pall Mall Gazette, by Tau Tria Delta, who offered a solution for the motive of the murders. It stated that in one of the grimoires of the Middle Ages, an account was given of a process by which a sorcerer could attain "the supreme black magical power" by following out a course of action identical with that of Jack the Ripper; certain lesser powers were granted to him spontaneously during the course of the proceedings. After the third murder, if memory serves, the assassin obtained on the spot the gift of invisibility, because in the third or fourth murder, a constable on duty saw a man and a woman go into a cul-de-sac. At the end there were the great gates of a factory, but at the sides no doorways or even windows. The constable, becoming suspicious, watched the entry to the gateway, and hearing screams, rushed in. He found the woman, mutilated, but still living; as he ran up, he flashed his bullseye in every direction; and he was absolutely certain that no other person was present. And there was no cover under the archway for so much as a rat.
     The number of murders involved in the ceremonies was five [CROWLEY WOULD KNOW], whereas the Whitechapel murders so-called, were seven in number; but two of these were spurious, like the alien corpse in Arsenic and Old Lace. These murders are completely to be distinguished from the five genuine ones, by obvious divergence on technical points.
     The place of each murder is important, for it is essential to describe what is called the averse pentagram, that is to say, a star of five points with a single point in the direction of the South Pole. So much for the theory of Tau Tria Delta.
     It is not quite clear as to whether this pseudonym concealed the identity of Donston himself. The investigation has been taken up by Bernard O'Donnell, the crime expert of the Empire News; and he has discovered many interesting details. In the course of conversation with Aleister Crowley this matter came up, and the magician was very impressed with O'Donnell's argument. He suggested an astrological investigation [THE GUILTY DOG, OR 'LA' IF ONE WILL, ALWAYS BARKS FIRST]. Was there anything significant about the times of the murders? O'Donnell's investigations had led him to the conclusion that the murderer had attached the greatest importance to accuracy in the time. O'Donnell, accordingly, furnished Crowley with the necessary data, and figures of the heavens were set up.
     A brief digression about astrological theory: the classical tradition is that the malefic planets are Saturn and Mars, and although any of the planets may in certain circumstances bring about misfortune, it is to these two that the astrologer looks first of all for indications of things going wrong.
     Some years before this conversation, however, Crowley had made extensive statistical enquiries into astrology. There is a small book called A Thousand and One Horoscopes[CROWLEY HAVING A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE] which includes a considerable number of nativities, not only of murderers, but of persons murdered. Crowley thought this an excellent opportunity to trace the evil influence of the planets, looking naturally first of all to Saturn, the great misfortune, then to Mars, the lesser misfortune; but also to Uranus [ALL PLANETS IN ASPECT IN CROWLEY'S PROGRESSED CHART DURING THE RIPPER MURDERS], a planet not known to the ancients, but generally considered of a highly explosive tendency. The result of Crowley's investigations was staggering [NO DOUBT IT WAS]; there was one constant element in all cases of murder, both of the assassin and the murdered. Saturn, Mars, and Herschel were indeed rightly suspected of doing dirty work at the crossroads, but the one constant factor was a planet which had until that moment been considered, if not actively beneficent, at least perfectly indifferent and harmless -- the planet Mercury [MERCURY ALSO IN ASPECT IN CROWLEY'S PROGRESSED CHART DURING THE RIPPER MURDERS]. Crowley went into this matter very thoroughly and presently it dawned on his rather slow intelligence [OR MURDEROUS INTELLIGENCE, AS THE CASE MAY BE] that after all this was only to be expected; the quality of murder is not primarily malice, greed, or wrath; the one essential condition without which deliberate murder can hardly ever take place, is just this cold-bloodedness [CROWLEY CONVINCES THE READER OF THIS MUCH], this failure to attribute the supreme value of human life [CROWLEY STANDS IN SEVERE DANGER OF HYPOCRISY]. Armed with these discoveries the horoscopes of the Whitechapel murders shone crystal clear to him. In every case, either Saturn of Mercury were precisely on the Eastern horizon at the moment of the murder (by precisely, one means within a matter of minutes) [THIS IS TRUE ON A REGULAR CHART. ALBEIT, IN CROWLEY'S PROGRESSED CHART IT IS PRECISELY THE OPPOSITE].
     Mercury is, of course, the God of Magic, and his averse distorted image the Ape of Thoth, responsible for such evil trickery as is the heart of black magic, while Saturn is not only the cold heartlessness of age, but the magical equivalent of Saturn. He is the old god who was worshiped in the Witches' Sabbath [AGAIN, CROWLEY WOULD KNOW].
     Naturally, to his devotees, Saturn is not to be associated with misfortune redeunt saturnia regna;1 Saturn has all the fond wisdom of the grandfather.
     To return from this long explanatory digression, it was necessary in order to give the fair Cremers time to extricate the uniform case from its complex ropes, the knots being carefully memorised, and to pick the locks.
     During this process her mind had been far from at ease; first of all, there seemed to be no weight. Surely a trunk so carefully treasured could not be empty; but if there were a packet of letters more or less loose, there should have been some response to the process of shaking. Her curiosity rose to fever pitch; at last the lock yielded to her persuasive touch; she lifted the lid. The trunk was not empty, but its contents, although few, were striking.
     Five white dress ties soaked in blood [A COMPLETE AND UTTER FALSEHOOD].


In early English cloth was used of garment, dress, and shows up in our clad, cloth, clothe, clothing. Clothing is the set of garments, or coverings, by which the body is protected from the weather and concealed from view. In Masonic usage the meaning is much narrower and more technical; a Mason is clothed when he wears the apron, white gloves, and the emblem of his rank. The apron and gloves are also employed as symbols, though gloves have pretty much fallen into disuse in American Masonry.

-Source: 100 Words in Masonry


A Freemason in the United States of America is said to be properly clothed when he wears white leather gloves, a white apron, and the jewel of his Masonic rank.
The gloves are now often, but improperly, dispensed with, except on public occasions. "No Mason is permitted to enter a Lodge or join in its labors unless he is properly clothed.'' Lenning, speaking of Continental Freemasonry, under the article Kleidung in his Lexicon, says that the clothing of a Freemason consists of apron, gloves, sword, and hat. In the York and American Rites, the sword and hat are used only in the Degrees of chivalry. In the catechisms of the early eighteenth century the Master of a Lodge, was described as clothed in a yellow jacket and a blue pair of breeches, in allusion to the brass top and steel legs of a pair of compasses. After the middle of the century, he was said to be "clothed in the old colors, namely, purple, crimson, and blue"; and the reason assigned for it was "because they are royal, and such as the ancient kings an d princes used to wear. "
The actual dress of a Master Mason was, however, a full suit of black, with white neck-cloth, apron, gloves, and stockings; the buckles being of silver, and the jewels being suspended from a white ribbon by way of collar.

- Source: Mackey's Encyclopedia of Freemasonry

Clothes Make The Man and the Mason

Originally published as - A PROPER APPRECIATION
Masonry in many respects is the same the world over. The language of symbols, the legend of signs, and the tenets are alike everywhere, so that a man may be recognized as a Mason as well in Africa as England, or in Germany as in America. The forms and ceremonies may differ, but the mystic language is unmistakable.
There is, however, a vast differences in the esteem, and appreciation of the fraternity in different countries. We have often been impressed with the high regard our English brethren have for their membership in the Craft. We may say what we will about the clothes not making the man. One who is careful of his dress on all occasions and will always present the very best appearance he can possess, a certain element of refinement that is certainly commendable, and that brother who is careful to appear at lodge meeting in appropriate dress shows an appreciation of the place and the people with whom he is to mingle that is praiseworthy. The man who went to the wedding feast not properly clad for the occasion was made to feel out of place.
The brother who goes into the lodge room in rough, untidy clothing can not but feel a kind of humiliation if all about him have made a careful toilet. Our English brethren carry their own aprons and gloves with proper official decorations and are proud to put them on, not in a haughty matter but in a commendable pride that they are one of the great family of Masons, and the apron is the outward symbol of that membership. This feeling shows an appreciation of the fraternity.
The question has been asked frequently, "Why are our meetings not better attended?" The trouble is largely a lack of appreciation of the lodge work. There is sufficient in the work of the lodge, the conferring of degrees to interest the thoughtful student. The ceremonies are like the spring flowers, ever fresh, beautiful and new. The flowers have been blooming ever since mother earth began her yield of luxuries, and yet we never tire of them. The morning glory and the daisy, the turnip and the violet are the same year after year, and we cherish and love them the same. And so with the work of the lodge-room, while the ceremonies, signs, symbols and legends are the same, yet there is a beauty about them or fragrance, a very newness, which if we will only look for, we will surely find.
We often fail to appreciate the social side of Freemasonry and that is a cause for lack of interest. Take the combination of lodge work, and lodge sociability, and you have elements of interest and pleasure that should be attractive to everyone.
The friendships of Masonry ought to be the very strongest and tenderest. They are formed within a charmed, mystical circle, that should have the golden thread of fidelity running all through it, and while the experience of many may not be as satisfactory as could be desired, yet there is so much that is pure and unselfish that we should be proud of the fraternal chain that binds us together.
Let us really appreciate the lodge, so that we will not only be glad to assist in the work, but still more ready to study and learn. We will come to the meetings with clean hands and pure hearts, and clad in a style, not only in keeping with the dignity of the place, but showing that we have a high regard for the work and for our fellow-members.

Source - The Canadian Craftsman, March 1898

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