THE PAST COUPLE OF DAYS have been uncharacteristically mild, so much so that I dragged an old chair out back and spent several hours reading in the afternoon sun.
The book was, Giordano Bruno and the Hermetic Tradition, by Frances Yates, an in-depth, scholarly treatment I first attempted about twenty years ago and never finished. I was
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We're all still picking through the statuesque rubble the Edwardians left in their wake. A lot of it survived in art history, but that's arguably always been an even more genteel vocation than magick. Funny old world.
But I suspect your reputation is still catching up to you.
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Owe you an email. I had not checked that account in a while, having been lost on, and only lately returned from, a genealogical tear. One of the software resources I use in my sojourns among the dead was written by Rafal T Prinke. Funny old world, indeed, and a seemingly small one, too.
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Genealogy is productive. Rafal T Prinke! There's a name to conjure with! I need to look up his stuff again instead of reading all those books I haven't cracked yet myself.
Speaking of which, I ran across a newly fledged Minerval down in the "Valley of Atlanta" the other day reading your book and then you came up on the newsgroup again this morning. Spent most of yesterday bickering around the equally genealogically intrigued Richard Sprigg about the anima mundi. Wonder what one of those old Renaissance boys would've said about that. The world keeps getting smaller or we get big, or both.
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Really? A Minerval reading my problem child and it actually coming up in adult conversation? Strange days indeed. I wonder how they stumbled on Black Lodge?
How is Sprigg? I think of him often, yet don't think I've seen anything of him since 2002 or so.
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