Geli in the Rainbow

[robinlandseadel at comcast.net]

          Michael Bailey:
          If angels are, instead of ideas, "objects" as in 
          programming, with an attribute of sympathy -- 
          there would be rules as to when sympathy 
          would come into play. Pynchon ideas mostly 
          don't exclude sympathy (that's why I like him 
          so much) -- he's actively seeking angels that 
          would hear people if they shriek...

Ah, Geli, Geli, Geli. . . .

Well, first off: Pynchon KNOWS way the fuck too much about "High Magic", 
usually girding such allusions with a protective coating of Low Puns, not 
so much a cloak of invisibility as the armor of misdirection, getting the 
same results. "If they get you to asking the wrong questions. . . ." J.K. 
Rowling would be pleased. Now have some chocolate and repeat after 
me: "Rich, chocolaty goodness." 

I could make the statement: "Sometimes an Angel is just an Angel."

Of course, an Angel is not "Just" anything, an Angel is a "Higher Power", 
"Ordnungen" is both indicative of heriarchical positioning and "The Law". 
And, like Uncle Al sez, "The Law is for all." But I'm getting overcome by my 
own fumes. Serves me right to crack open "The Book Of Lies" at five in the morn.

          . . . .49 is the square of 7.

          7 is the passive and feminine number.

          The chapter should be read in connection with Chapter 31, for IT 
          now reappears.

          The chapter heading, the Waratah, is a voluptous scarlet flower, 
          common in Australia, and this connects the chapter with Chapters 
          28 and 29: but this is only an allusion, for the subject of the 
          chapter is OUR LADY OF BABALON, who is conceived as the 
          feminine counterpart of IT. . . .
          Aleister Crowley: The Book Of Lies, pg. 109

In Gravity's Rainbow, I keep circling back to Geli Tripping. First off, "Geli" 
is the affectionate diminutive of Angelika---Angel. This prototypical 
Hippie Chick has the Moxie, the Ovaries to call down the Great Powers---

          May he be blind now to all but me. May the burning sun of love 
          shine in his eyes forever. May this, my own darkness, shelter 
          him. By all the holy names of God, by the Angels Melchidael, 
          Yahoel, Anafiel, and the great Metatron, I conjure you, and 
          all who are with you, to go and do my will.
          GR, P748/749

Calls, cries, "schriee", orifices upturned awaiting an overwhelming 
existence, reaching towards and hoping for annihilation, to be 
consumed in a brighter light. Like Captain Beefheart sez: 

          "God Fuck My Mind For Good!!!"

All the little angel really wants is love and peace, an inclination that 
can be looked upon as a Christian Impulse, producing a resultant 
that can be seen in a Favorable Christian Light, albeit stretching the 
limits of orthodoxy to the breaking point. But that's alright, Tommy 
Boy knows all about heresy, eh? Just the previous page he's citing 
the Cathars and the black iron prison of Maya, the ultra-paranoid, 
ultra-gnostic notion that physical manifestation is a sentence, a spell
cast by malignant Higher Powers, dragging the Angel within down 
into Malkuthian myre.


Sometimes an Angel is just an Angel.