THE POISON PATH I

For instance, one man will have faith enough to eat all kinds of food, while a weaker man eats only vegetables.
The man who eats must not hold in contempt the man who does not, and he who does not eat must not pass
judgement on the one who does; for God has accepted him. . . .

Let us therefore cease judging one another, but rather make this simple judgement: that no obstacle or stumbling-block be placed in a brother's way.
I am absolutely convinced, as a Christian, that nothing is impure in itself; only, if a man considers a particular thing impure, then to him it is impure. . . .
What for you is a good thing must not become an occasion for slanderous talk; for the kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, but justice, peace, and joy, inspired by the Holy Spirit.
— Rom 14:2—3, 13—14, 16—17


The matter of the stumbling brother is the cross of the Poison Path: on this trope turn the intersecting greater and lesser vehicles, the right-hand path and the left. Skilled poisoners avoid ruin, but in the struggle for "justice, peace, and joy" in the Kali Yuga, ruin may come on her own wings. And the Ten of Swords most readily approaches those who are unlucky.

How can you tell if you are lucky or unlucky? This is most important. If you are not lucky, you will surely stumble. Then the lucky ones must share the guilt. The question of the stumbling brother is relevant to the debate about legalization of crack cocaine and the possible "devastation of the Black community" that might result (as if the Black community were not al- ready devastated by the current illegality of crack). Relevant, that's all. But we stray.

How can you tell if you are lucky? In his letter to the Romans, Paul is clear that he has two teachings, that there is an exoteric path and that there is an esoteric path. He states unambiguously that he knows that all substances are by nature pure, that Jesus told him so. The issue then is stumbling. Another's stumbling. An- other who does not understand that all substances are pure. And since our way is the eclectic path of the magicians, we will step over the scores of stumbled bodies that accomplished poisoners such as Aleister Crowley leave in their wake, and toss off a couple of obstacles of our own.

You can tell if someone is lucky by their marks. Scars are particularly revealing. Even the lucky have close calls. But how did the wound heal over? Is the person in question marked for calamity? Or for ruin? The same way that some people bear the marks of survival, others are marked for ruin and failure — it is written on them. And I don't mean in any fatalistic sense, but writ by pattern.

Never share poisons with the unlucky. And, as Nelson Algren said, don't sleep with them, either.

Best for all that they never hear a word about poisons. Or about power. Or about Paul. If they do, later, well, you know the rest . . .

The danger, of course, is that you who are reading this consider yourself, ipso facto, one of the lucky.



DALE PENDELL


excerpt from "Pharmako Poeia- Plant Powers, Poisons and Herbcraft"