The Equinox (Volume I, Number IX)

THE EQUINOX of S.G.M.G. without due notice, to drag our holy Rite into the mire, to chain it to the chariot wheels of a Krishnamurti, to make us pandars to the antique and impotent uncleanness of a senile sodomite. Shall we allow the Antient and P. Rite to be dragged at the heels of this filthy and ridiculous movement? Shall we be beslavered by these blasphemous bestialities; we, the Conservators of a Rite hallowed alike by its own nature and by the glory with which antiquity surrounds it; we, generation after generation of whose ancestors, even beyond the ages of history, have handed it down to us, spotless and radiant, veiled only ever and evermore by the blinding light of its own glories, unsullied by even the shadow of disgrace? No, Very Illustrious Prince Patriarchs, if it is to be done at all, let it be done properly. Let us elect Lord Alfred Douglas S.G.M.G., and replace the name of the Grand Architect of the Universe by that of Oscar Wilde! That would at least be honest, if not clean. I have no concern with the morals of Mr. Wedgwood or Mr. Leadbeater: it is one of the many favours which my daily thanksgiving recites before the Father of us all that I have no concern with them; but that the latter should impose his boy-mistress, imbecile from abuse, upon us for the Incarnation of the Logos—that is a thing for which I find no name. V.I.P.P.s, I have unveiled Medusa, and she has no glance to make me quail. Let us but set our heels once firmly upon the worm, let us rid ourselves once and for ever of the pestilence ! All those who will not do so stand self-confessed advocates and partisans of this blasphemous elaboration of sodomy. XXX