ANST - Musing on June 29 -- Wrasslin' with Saracens

[j'lynn yeates]

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Sir B's daily musing tends to the alchemical ....

'wolf


Dear Folk,

On June 29, 1315, the "Doctor Illuminatus", philosopher, poet, and
theologian, Raymond Lully (Lull or Lulle) went to heaven while trying
to convert the Moors over in Tunis. Ray was born somewhere between
1232
and 1236 in Majorca, Spain. He was a smart-aleck poet who hung-out at
the court of King Jim of Aragon where his dad was seneschal (sort of
master of ceremonies & head waiter.) Suddenly Ray left court and
became
a hermit. This gets good.

The story is that Ray was courting, against her will, the very
married
Donna Ambrosia Eleanora Di Castello. Isn’t that a great name!
Ambrosia
Eleanora, wow! Ray was following a tad closely. Okay, he was stalking
her. She could not sneeze without Ray saying "God bless you!" He
wrote
her some very hot verses which had a somewhat different effect than
he
thought. Ambrosia sent Ray a note to come meet her in private. Ray
was
there before the ink was dry. Ambrosia told him that since he had
written such torrid verses about her beauty, he should see more of
them. Stop there for a moment, dear reader. Think. What is going to
happen next? The dear and virtuous "Lady A" drew aside her garments
and
revealed one side of her body which had been nearly eaten away by
cancer. Needless to say, Ray had an epiphany. Epiphany, you know,
like
when you realize that Certs is a candy mint and a breath mint? Ray
went
and lived in a hut on a hill for six years after that. Later he
hooked
up with the Order of St. Francis

Ray developed a passion which was ultimately to lead to his death:
the
urge to convert Moslems to Catholicism. He studied Arabic, founded a
school in Majorca to teach Arabic and Chaldean especially to those
heading to the Holy Land. God had given him a mission: to get himself
all buffed up to go theologically wrestle with the heathen across the
straits.

He invented a computer of sorts, a mechanical contrivance, a logical
machine, he called the "Ars Generalis Ultima" or the "Ars Magna."
This
machine was to prove or disprove logical arguments thus putting
philosophy majors out of a job and causing attendance at coffee
houses
to plummet. He spent a good deal of time tinkering with this and
wrote
extensively about it. Obviously this proto-computer nerd was not
dating
very much.

Ray ran into an alchemist named Arnold of Villa Nova. Arnie taught
Ray
alchemy and the secret of transmuting and multiplying metals. Now, I
know you probably think that anyone who tells you they can turn lead
into gold is most likely out to steal your chickens. Brethren and
cistern, you are probably right.

A small word about the science of alchemy. You alchemists just hush
up
and go stir something, okay? There are really at least two types of
this operation: lead into gold, I mean. The first is what you are
thinking – give me some lead and I will presto-change-o make it into
gold. That is the outer work. The inner work is the transmutation of
the lead in your heart to gold. Spiritual stuff, right?  Ray claimed
and demonstrated that he could do the first. You decide for yourself.
I
wasn’t there.

Okay, alchemists can rejoin the party.

Ray received summons from Eddie II -- remember him and his bad end –
and Robert the Bruce, king of Scotland.  Eddie promised Ray that if
Ray
would only make some gold for him, Eddie would go whomp up on the
Moslems. Ray was overjoyed, as you can imagine. Ray got assigned some
rooms in the Tower of London where he converted fifty thousand pounds
weight of quicksilver (mercury), lead, and tin into pure gold. This
was, in turn, coined into six million nobles, each worth about three
pounds sterling (in 1928). Shoot! I don’t know how much money that
would be today but I would bet Darva Conger (sp?) would want to date
him.

Of course, Eddie did not use the gold for any such crusade. Ray
figured
out that he was only a bird in a gilded cage and doggone it! he had
supply the gilding. Ray did send instructions up to Bob the Bruce on
how to do the lead into gold thing. There is no record about anyone
up
there doing it, though. As Ray was sneaking out of London, or leaving
with discretion as I like to think of it, he cursed Eddie. Said that
he
hoped nothing good would come to him. Probably even wished him
"Personal Growth." Folks, that is a might nasty curse. It ranks up
there with the Chinese "May you live in interesting times." Don’t go
wishing Personal Growth on anyone unless you are prepared to weather
it
yourself. Mirror spells are all the rage these days.

Anyway, Ray sailed off to meet with his true calling – wrasslin’ with
the Saracens – and his death in 1315. He went to Egypt, they were
amused; Jerusalem, they were less than receptive; and finally Tunis.
When I say he got stoned, understand this was a bummer of a head
rush.
Ray got to go ask God "Why?" and the Saracens probably were sorry
later. We don’t know.

There was a movement afoot to have Ray made a saint. The Catholic
church figured that Ray was too involved with mixing theology and
mysticism and should just be forgotten. Sigh. Ray did write over 300
books. Wonder if Stephen King is close?

What is the point of all of this? Don’t chase after cars (or ladies)
because you might catch one? Beware of Moslems offering to get you
stoned? Kings might say one thing but...? No, we already did that
number. How about computer nerds wind up making all the gold?


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