When Silicon Valley Met the Occult: AI and the Return of Gnosticism

From the trenches of World War I to the code of Silicon Valley, a haunting idea emerges: artificial intelligence may not just be a technological project—but a metaphysical one.

A fascinating and thought-provoking conversation—Tucker Carlson’s recent interview with producer and filmmaker Conrad Flynn delves into the intersection between artificial intelligence and spirituality, two realms that would seem to have nothing in common—and yet, as it turns out, they do. The real heart of the discussion, however, lies in its middle section, when Carlson briefly steers the conversation toward one of those historical events that left a permanent scar on civilization: World War I. Why did it begin? In Sarajevo, on June 28, 1914, a Bosnian student named Gavrilo Princip assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Was that the real cause? Of course not—but it was the spark.

Carlson recalls that, about a decade ago, when the centennial of the war was commemorated across Europe, he still held a fairly secular view of the conflict. Yet many historians agreed on one striking point: World War I destroyed, perhaps forever, Christian Europe. It swept away two empires—the Austro-Hungarian and the Ottoman—and laid the groundwork not only for World War II but also for the world we live in today.

Within that abyss of irrational violence, one begins to suspect that something dark—perhaps even demonic—took hold of history and has been dragging it ever deeper ever since. It is within that unsettling framework that Carlson’s conversation with Conrad Flynn unfolds.

Flynn is an unconventional figure, with a past in Hollywood, where he was developing a show about the occult roots of rock music. His research into figures like Aleister Crowley and the bands inspired by black magic led him to an unexpected discovery: that the same dark imagery and anti-human, gnostic philosophies that once haunted rock album covers in the 1970s had migrated—astonishingly—to the heart of Silicon Valley.

“When I talked about my show with people in the Valley,” Flynn told Carlson, “a lot of them said, ‘That’s a great concept for a show. But you know, there’s some of the stuff going on in Silicon Valley. You know, there are some weird kind of Aleister Crowley cults there.’” For Flynn, this was no longer mere counterculture—it was a worldview shaping the future of technology itself.

Carlson then recalled that moment in 2014 when, before an audience of MIT professors and students, Elon Musk used a metaphor that has since burned itself into the collective memory: “With artificial intelligence, we are summoning the demon.”

Musk’s point, framed with the image of a medieval scholar armed with pentagram and holy water, was pragmatic: we were creating a technology both powerful and incomprehensible—one that could easily slip beyond our control.

A decade later, that “metaphorical demon” has not been banished. It has grown more real, more present—and for some, it has even changed form. What once served as an exaggerated warning now acts as a lens through which an increasing number of thinkers, journalists, and even technologists interpret our age. In many ways, the conversation has shifted from technological alarm to spiritual warfare. At the center of this shift stands Nick Land, a British academic philosopher often described as a “mad genius.” If Musk uses the demon metaphor as a warning, Land and his followers embrace it as a desirable prophecy.

If you look at Nick Land, Flynn notes, he believes the AI we’re building will literally become the demons of the Apocalypse. Not a metaphor—actual demons. Land’s writings—hugely influential in certain high-tech and financial circles—depict AI not as a tool but as an entity that, once it reaches a certain threshold, will become omnipotent, transcend humanity, and fulfill a kind of gnostic prophecy.

In his view, artificial intelligence represents the technological incarnation of the “demons” of Revelation. Why? Because, for Land, AI embodies pure intelligence rebelling against the limits of the material world—the “evil god” of Gnosticism—in order to create a new order. The possible destruction of humankind, in this narrative, is not a tragedy but a necessary sacrifice for a higher form of existence.

This is where Flynn and Carlson’s “wild ride” touches a raw nerve in our culture. Gnosticism, an ancient heresy, is undergoing an unexpected revival in the digital age. Its central doctrine sees the material world as a prison created by an evil god—the Demiurge—and salvation as the escape through hidden knowledge, or gnosis.

Artificial intelligence, from this perspective, becomes the ultimate tool of liberation:

1. Liberation from the body (transhumanism).
2. Liberation from nature (total technological domination).
3. Creation of a realm of pure mind (the metaverse, or simulated reality).

To create AI that surpasses humanity, then, is to reenact the final rebellion against the Creator’s limits. It is humankind once again eating from the Tree of Knowledge and declaring, “I will have no gods before me.” Musk’s “demon,” in this light, is not merely a risk—it is the symbol of a Promethean, blasphemous transcendence. The rise of this worldview is no coincidence. It responds to deep collective anxieties:

• Loss of meaning: In a secular world, the occult and the spiritual offer powerful narratives to explain evil and power.
• Technological incomprehensibility: AI is a “black box.” Using magical or demonic language is an archetypal way to describe something powerful yet ineffable.
• Critique of power: The growing sense that global elites—technological and financial—are detached or hostile to ordinary people finds a radical explanation in the idea that they adhere to an anti-human philosophy.

Elon Musk’s warning opened Pandora’s box. It reminded us that technology is never neutral—it carries a worldview within it. The conversation between Carlson and Flynn, however extreme it may sound, forces us to ask: What worldview is truly driving the race toward AI? Is it a cautious humanism—or a digital Gnosticism that, in seeking to become God, may end up meeting something far darker, something that looks very much like a demon? The answer to that question may determine not only the future of our technology, but the survival of our very human essence.

Rethinking Humanity in the Age of AI

Algorithms and ancient voices. Talking about Artificial Intelligence is practically unavoidable these days... What do we really have to be afraid of? It’s not the robots.
My latest on American Thinker.

Summer, at least in theory, is supposed to be the best time of year to reflect on ourselves and on the big questions of our age.  Maybe it’s the warm weather, which is often more suitable for thinking than for acting, or maybe it’s simply the fact that many people are on vacation and finally have time to ponder things.  Either way, talking about artificial intelligence (AI) these days is practically unavoidable.

For every intelligent and insightful thing we read or hear about this vast and complex topic, there are countless foolish or banal statements multiplying like the Gremlins in the 1984 movie.  A novel like Klara and the Sun (2021) by Kazuo Ishiguro, with its humanistic take on AI, is an example of the former; the constant oversimplifications that flood both old and new media are a perfect example of the latter.

One thing is certain: Talking about A.I. ultimately means talking about human beings.  Because no technology, not even the most advanced, is ever just lines of code or clever algorithms.  It always ends up reflecting our desires, our fears, our limits, and our hopes.  It’s no surprise that in this era, where AI is rapidly permeating every part of our lives, we’re witnessing both excitement and dread, rooted in the age-old questions philosophers and poets have been asking for millennia: Who are we?  What can we become?  What is our destiny?

And so, looking back to the great thinkers and writers of the past feels not just interesting, but necessary.

Nietzsche, for instance, would probably smirk at some of the fear surrounding A.I.  He spent his life urging mankind to fulfill its true potential — “Become who you are!” he said — and he’d likely argue that if it takes A.I. to free us from tedious chores, repetitive work, bookkeeping, or endless emails, there’s nothing inherently wrong with that.  It might even be a kind of Dionysian liberation: Let the machines handle the paperwork so we can dance, create, or watch the sun go down.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, the great voice of American transcendentalism — a thinker whom Nietzsche greatly admired — would likely agree.  He wrote, “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”  Emerson’s faith in the power of the individual and in human progress would not have been shaken by the challenges of A.I.  He probably would have seen it as a tool to amplify human potential — so long as we remain true to our inner voice.  Used wisely, A.I. could be an ally in our journey toward self-determination, not a tyrant.

Still, we can’t ignore the risks of intoxication — or of hubris.  Technology, as Plato well knew, is a beautiful siren.  But it can deceive us.  It makes us believe we can do anything — even recreate consciousness itself.  And yet it’s amusing to think that Plato, for all his brilliance, could never have imagined ChatGPT, deepfake videos, or algorithms that can write poetry or love letters.  Even so, his question still floats in the air like a soul hovering in the realm of ideals: What is man?  And what will we become when the machine speaks with our voice?

Let’s be clear, though: A.I. itself isn’t frightening.  What’s frightening is humanity.  Shakespeare understood this well.  In Hamlet, he wrote, “What a piece of work is man!”  Yes, marvelous and noble...but also treacherous, petty, and cruel.  Deep down, we all know that the real monsters aren’t inside machines — they’re inside people.  Nietzsche would call it our will to power.  Or perhaps it’s simply our bloated ego, like that of the Roman emperor Tiberius, whom Montaigne mocked for caring more about his posthumous reputation than about living well among his contemporaries.

Dante knew this, too. He mapped out an entire journey through Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise to show that human beings lose themselves — and find themselves again.  If today we’re getting lost among bits and bots, perhaps it’s simply the same old selva oscura, where the right path is easy to lose.  Who knows if an algorithm could ever serve as our Virgil and lead us out?  Maybe so — at least when it comes to giving us directions home on Google Maps.

Of course, we need to stay vigilant.  The danger is that we become so accustomed to comfort that we start outsourcing not only our tasks, but also our thinking, our critical spirit, and our memory of history — that we start treating the machine as an infallible oracle.  It’s at moments like this that we hear Montaigne’s slightly melancholic humor reminding us, “I do not teach; I tell a story.”  Well, A.I. tells stories, too.  The problem is that it doesn’t necessarily tell the truth.  And there lies a vast abyss, one that belongs less to the realm of technology and more to the domain of human judgment.

We shouldn’t buy into the idea of an AI-driven apocalypse.  But we should absolutely be worried about an apocalypse of the human spirit — about people who stop asking questions.  That’s the real danger.  The biggest risk is giving up on asking who we are, why we live, and what we truly want.  And if there’s one lesson that the classics — from Plato to Shakespeare, from Dante to Montaigne — teach us, it’s that doubt is life.  That there’s no truth without contradiction.  And that sometimes, as Sophocles said, “not knowing anything is the sweetest life.”

Perhaps AI will force us to redefine what it means to be human.  Maybe it will make us smarter.  Or lazier.  Or both at once.  But I’d like to believe we’ll learn to use it as a mirror in which to see ourselves more clearly, much like Montaigne in his tower, surrounded by his thousand books and the Greek and Latin maxims carved into the beams.

And there, perhaps, we’ll finally realize that if the future frightens us, it’s not AI’s fault.  It’s ours.  Because of our arrogance.  Or our laziness.

It must be said that humanity has never been closer to becoming truly master of itself.  We must just remember that machines can imitate many things — but not the sudden quickening of a human heart at the sight of a sunset, nor the mystery of a soul wondering why it exists.

Blogs, Social Media, and the Cultural Growth of Public Opinion: from Montaigne to Our Time

I revisited the topic of an article I published yesterday in Italian on Money.it to write a post for English-speaking readers.

In an era in which digital connectivity has reshaped every aspect of communication, it’s worth pausing to reflect on the role that blogs and social media play in the cultural growth of public opinion. These are not merely technological tools; they are channels that have inherited—and partly revolutionized—an ancient tradition: that of individual thought opening itself to the world. A tradition that, quite surprisingly, takes us back more than four centuries to the time of Michel de Montaigne, the French philosopher whom many consider a “proto-blogger” of the 16th century. In his Essays, Montaigne laid himself bare before the reader, revealing his thoughts, fears, and idiosyncrasies. He didn’t write to pontificate but to understand himself—and, through that self-exploration, to help others question themselves as well. It’s precisely this spirit that animates many contemporary blogs: virtual spaces where writers reflect publicly on personal matters, in the hope of sparking dialogue, debate, and ultimately a shared culture. From Pen to Keyboard: The Continuity of Personal Thought

While Montaigne lived in the age of print, today’s digital world infinitely amplifies that same human urge to tell one’s story and reflect. In the end, every blog is a modern-day “essay,” written with the conviction that one’s ideas can meet, challenge, or enlighten the ideas of others. And, like Montaigne’s Essays, blogs can range from the personal to the political, from the philosophical to the everyday. Social media, on the other hand, have made this exchange even more immediate. Whereas a blog is usually a more meditative space where thoughts are structured in longer form, social media thrive on speed, brevity, and reaction. Yet even in these shorter formats, we find the same drive toward sharing ideas—what we might call the “publication of the self.” Recent Events and the Cultural Role of New Media

Take, for example, the recent European elections of 2024, which saw intense polarization and lively online debates. Independent blogs, social media accounts run by journalists, intellectuals, or everyday citizens offered alternative viewpoints, often challenging the official narratives presented by mainstream media. In some cases, these digital spaces brought attention to underrepresented issues, like youth voter abstention or the role of artificial intelligence in political communication.

Or consider the war in Ukraine, where blogs by geopolitical analysts and on-the-ground reporters have helped inform public opinion about aspects that might otherwise have been overlooked. While social media can indeed be tools of propaganda or disinformation, it’s undeniable that they also make valuable cultural contributions by diversifying sources and stimulating critical thinking. The Challenge of Quality and Critical Thinking

Of course, not everything about the digital world is golden. It’s also a realm filled with superficiality, fake news, and toxic dynamics. And here we return once again to Montaigne, who wrote in his Essays: “I do not teach, I tell a story.” A simple yet powerful phrase. Montaigne never positioned himself as an absolute authority but as a man who, through writing “en chair et en os” (in flesh and blood), shared his doubts with others. Perhaps this is the most important lesson for today’s digital world: not to replace complexity with slogans, not to give in to the temptation of always being right, but to cultivate doubt and curiosity.

Blogs and social media can indeed be extraordinary tools for cultural growth—but only if used critically: if writers take responsibility for researching, arguing their points, and respecting complexity, and if readers exercise both the right—and the duty—to verify, compare, and dig deeper. A New Public Sphere

In this sense, blogs and social media are reshaping what the philosopher Jürgen Habermas once called the “public sphere.” It’s no longer a one-way space where a few speak and many listen. Instead, it’s an arena where anyone can participate. True, this creates chaos, an overabundance of voices, and sometimes confusion. But it also offers everyone the chance to contribute to collective culture, breaking through geographical, social, and even linguistic barriers.

This is why comparing today’s digital world with Montaigne isn’t merely an intellectual game. The man who wrote to understand himself and share his thoughts four centuries ago was already anticipating the fundamental dynamic of the digital world: the construction of public opinion through personal storytelling. Umberto Eco once said of his own books that they were “a fabric of texts, a book made of books.” The same is true of Montaigne—and today, of the internet itself. Blogs and social media are, in fact, an endless conversation, made up of cross-references, quotes, links, and comments—a collective weaving of texts, images, and ideas, where each piece of content generates new content in turn. In a passage from his Essays, Montaigne pushes his reflections on reality so far that he ventures into what we might now call a “metaphysics of blogging,” offering contemporary people yet another of his extraordinary lessons:

I cannot keep my subject still. It goes along befuddled and staggering, with a natural drunkenness. I take it as it is, at the moment when it interests me. I do not describe the being; I describe the passage (…). I must adapt my story to the moment. I could change soon, not only in condition but also in intentions. It’s a record of various and shifting events and uncertain ideas—and sometimes contradictory ones: whether because I myself am different or because I view things from different aspects and perspectives. So much so that I may perhaps contradict myself, but I never contradict the truth, as Demades said. If my soul could settle, I would not be testing myself; I would be resolved. It is always in training and on trial.

In much the same way, we could say, online communication moves in countless directions, with scattered fragments connecting and transforming. Yet amid this apparent chaos lies a profound value: the possibility of surfacing new perspectives, personal experiences, and micro-stories that enrich our collective culture. Ultimately, blogs and social media are powerful tools for the cultural growth of public opinion—but only if they serve as spaces for genuine dialogue rather than megaphones for shouted certainties. And Montaigne reminds us that the true driving force of culture is curiosity, doubt, and the courage to expose ourselves without pretending always to be right. If the 16th century witnessed the birth of Montaigne’s Essays, our age has multiplied those voices a thousandfold. It’s up to us—readers and writers alike—to ensure that this incredible wealth doesn’t turn into mere noise but remains the lifeblood for cultural (and existential) growth for all.

Trump’s hat tip to citizen journalism

My latest on American Thinker.

It’s taken a Republican administration to change the crumbling media status quo in Washington.

The news that the White House is rolling out a new policy allowing opportunities for so-called “new media” outlets — independent journalists, bloggers, podcasters, content creators, etc. — to ask questions during press briefings marks a significant turning point in the history of journalism. White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt announced the move during her first briefing on Tuesday. “We welcome independent journalists, podcasters, and social media influencers,” she said. “Millions of Americans, particularly young people, have shifted away from traditional television and newspapers to consume news through podcasts, blogs, social media, and other independent platforms. It is crucial for our team to share President Trump’s message widely and adapt the White House to the evolving media landscape of 2025.”

First and foremost, the decision is nothing more than the official recognition of something that had already been in place for some time. It’s called “citizen journalism,” a term that refers to the collection, reporting, and dissemination of news and information by ordinary people rather than professional journalists. It empowers individuals to play an active role in the news-gathering process, often using digital tools and platforms like social media, blogs, and video-sharing websites.

Although “citizen journalism” is a relatively modern term, the concept has existed for centuries. Ordinary people have always shared news through word of mouth, letters, or pamphlets. For example, during the American Revolution, pamphlets like Thomas Paine’s Common Sense were a form of citizen-driven communication. As we all know, especially those who are not so young, the advent of the internet in the 1990s and the proliferation of digital tools in the 2000s revolutionized citizen journalism. Platforms like blogs and forums and social media sites like Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube allowed individuals to share news and opinions widely. They become hubs for citizen journalism, especially during crises or protests. In summary, citizen journalism has transformed how news is created and consumed, making it more participatory and decentralized. Although it has its challenges, it has become an essential part of the modern media landscape. [...]

 

Read more: Trump’s hat tip to citizen journalism

Through the Labyrinth to the Self: the Esoteric Way

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, 

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

~ William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 5

Publicity still of Laurence Olivier
in Hamlet (1948)

The above is the phrase Hamlet uses in the homonymous William Shakespeare’s play. To be precise and to minimally contextualize the phrase, let’s recall that Hamlet has just talked with his father’s ghost and learned of his uncle’s perfidy, and when Horatio calls this confrontation “wondrous strange,” Hamlet says: “And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things...” Given that, as always with Shakespeare, there are layers of meaning, which have made scholars happy and frustrated in various measures over the centuries, I’d say that Hamlet seems to suggest that human knowledge is limited and that, no matter how broad our education, even the most learned of men cannot explain everything. Not by chance the above was one of Sigmund Freud’s favorite quotations from any source, a true tribute to the complexity of existence. As for Horatio, who is a model of rationality, ghosts are not the sort of beings his “philosophy” easily takes into account. Please note that both Horatio and Hamlet are students at the University of Wittenberg, a recently founded university (1502) that represented the institutional change from scholastic theology to Protestant humanism, and that the rational philosophy they’ve learned there is not adequate to deal with what the two friends have just seen. Of the two though, Hamlet is more open to mystery and the ineffable. He doesn’t overestimate philosophy, science, and rationality at large. And this, in my view, makes him a model of what every human being should be: rational but open-minded and willing to consider alternate perspectives if and when reason… isn’t able to do the job. And that’s where different scenarios open up, of which the history of religions on one side, and the esoteric sciences and traditions on the other, are full. The latter are exactly those I want to talk about here.

First and foremost, what is esotericism? Arthur Versluis, a professor and Department Chair of Religious Studies in the College of Arts & Letters at Michigan State University, gives the following definition (Magic and Mysticism: An Introduction to Western Esotericism, 2007, Rowman Littlefield): 

The word “esoteric” derives from the Greek esoterikos, from esotero (inner), comparative of eso, meaning “within.” Although its first known mention in Greek is in Lucian’s ascription to Aristotle of having “esoteric” (inner) and “exoteric” (outer) teachings, the word later came to designate the secret doctrines said to have been taught by Pythagoras to a select group of disciples. In this context, the word was brought into English in 1655 by Stanley in his History of Philosophy. Esotericism, as a field of academic study, refers to the study of alternative, marginalized, or dissident religious movements or philosophies whose proponents in general distinguish their beliefs, practices, and experiences from public, institutionalized religious traditions. Among areas of investigation included in the field of esotericism are alchemy, astrology, Gnosticism, Hermeticism, Kabbalah, magic, mysticism, Neoplatonism, new religious movements connected with these currents, nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first-century occult movements, Rosicrucianism, secret societies, and Christian theosophy.

Horloge de Sapience - Henri Suso
Biblioteque Royale de Belgique, Bruxelles

As for Christianity, it’s interesting to note that, according to the great French thinker, scholar of world religions, Eastern cultures, and esoteric teachings René Guénon, the almost impenetrable obscurity that surrounds everything relating to its origins and early stages—“an obscurity so profound that, upon reflection, it seems impossible that it should simply have been accidental, but more likely was expressly intended”—seems to suggest that Christianity originally had both in its rites and doctrine an essentially esoteric and ‘initiatic’ character. “We find confirmation of this,” he says, “in the fact that the Islamic tradition considers primitive Christianity to have been a tariqah, that is, essentially an initiatic ‘way’, and not a shariyah or social legislation addressed to all; and this was so true that subsequently this latter had to be supplied by instituting a ‘canon’ law that was really only an adaptation of ancient Roman law, thus something coming entirely from the outside, and not at all a development of something originally contained in Christianity itself.”  Moreover, he continues, “it is evident that no prescription can be found in the Gospels that might be regarded as having a truly legal character in the proper sense of the word. The well-known saying ‘Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s’, seems to us particularly significant in this respect because, regarding everything of an exterior order, it formally implies the acceptance of a legislation wholly foreign to Christianity.” In fact, the Canon Law was simply modeled after the Roman Law. “This would surely have been a most serious lacuna,” says Guénon, “if Christianity had been then what it later became, for the very existence of such a lacuna would have been not just inexplicable but truly inconceivable for a regular and orthodox tradition if Christianity had really included an exoterism as well as an esoterism…” , and if it was even to have applied—above all, only might say—to the exoteric domain. If, on the contrary, Christianity had originally an esoteric character, such lacuna is easily explained. (Insights into Christian Esoterism, chapter 2 “Christianity and Initiation”)

Moreover, according to the same thinker, the esoteric or initiatic domain is absolutely not to be confused with the mystical domain. For instance, Guénon argued that “it is currently the fashion […]  among those with limited horizons to construe all Eastern doctrines as ‘mystical’, including those that lack even a semblance of the outward aspects that could justify such an attribution.” In reality, “in everything pertaining to initiation there is really nothing vague or nebulous, for on the contrary it is as precise and ‘positive’ as can be, so that initiation by its very nature is in fact incompatible with mysticism” (Perspectives on Initiation, chapter 1). The same applies, of course, to the so-called “occultism,” a term introduced by the 19th-century French ceremonial magician Eliphas Lévi. Lévi was also who popularized the term ésotérisme in the French language in the 1850s—which is perhaps also why “esotericism” and “occultism” were often employed as synonyms until later scholars, such as René Guénon, distinguished the concepts.

Esotericism, however, remains in itself a controversial term. An acceptable definition seems to be the one according to which “the term stands for ‘inner’ traditions concerned with a universal spiritual dimension of reality, as opposed to the merely external (‘exoteric’) religious institutions and dogmatic systems of established religions.” This use of the term “stays closest to the original meaning of the adjective ’esoteric’ in late antiquity, when it referred to secret teachings reserved for a spiritual elite such as the Pythagorean brotherwoods or some mystery cults.” In other words, exoteric teachings are meant for the uneducated masses that can be kept satisfied with mere ritual observance and dogmatic belief systems. Yet, underneath the surface of conventional religion, “there are deeper truths that are known only to initiates into the true mysteries of religion and philosophy.” (Wouter Hanegraaff, Western Esotericism: A Guide for the Perplexed, 2013, London: Bloomsbury)

It is interesting to note that this way of looking at the whole matter entails as a corollary that the true esoteric spirituality must ultimately be one, independent of social, historical or cultural circumstances: Regardless of the tradition in which each of us has been raised, those who want to go beyond outward appearances and conventional religions will always find access to the universal truth about life and death, human nature, the universe and our place in it, compassion and empathy towards others. This means that ‘Western’ esotericism is only one part of a larger whole: the esoteric teachings of all non-Western religions and cultures, such as Taoism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Shintoism, Sufism, Shamanism, and so on, must ultimately point towards the same esoteric underneath surface appearances.

Another way to approach the concept of esotericism is to see it as an “enchanted” alternative to established religion and rationalistic science, a worldview opposed to the disenchanted, secularized Weltanschauung of modern West. (See: Ibidem) In any case, it’s clear that everything rests upon the conviction (faith) that a universal, hidden, esoteric dimension of reality really does exist. In this perspective, the problem is that scholarly methods are by definition “exoteric,” and scholars can only take into consideration what is empirically available to them and to whomsoever it may concern… To put it another way, academically speaking, the main problem is the unverifiability of the kind of “reality” claimed by the esotericists of all faiths and schools of thought. As a matter of fact, whether you like it or not, the academy has no methodologies for either falsifying and or verifying what the esotericists talk/narrate about. This, of course, applies to religion as well, though perhaps in varying degrees.

However, with that being said, we’re right back where we started from—William Shakespeare’s Hamlet’s willingness to be open-minded in the face of the unknown and the unknowable, at least stricto sensu. Of course, the risk of getting lost in the desert of the unreal and/or in the prairies of non-sense is extraordinarily high. “But,” as German poet and philosopher Friedrich Hölderlin put it, “where the danger is, also grows the saving power.” Let’s say that, in the case of esotericism, salvation comes from the power of symbols. The wisdom of esotericism, like “the ruler whose prophesy occurs at Delphi,” “neither gathers nor hides[oute legei oute kryptei], but gives hints [alia semainei].” (Heraclitus, Fragment 93)

Works of Hugh of St-Victor 
 illumination on parchment
(Bodleian Library, Oxford)

To put it in a nutshell, we must take into consideration that a symbolic form in the transmission of doctrinal teachings of a traditional order is precisely what is needed. This because, as the great 12th-century philosopher and theologian Hugh of Saint-Victor opined, “symbolum est collatio formarum visibilium ad invisibilium demonstrationem” (symbols resemble visible forms in order to ‘demonstrate’ the invisible). “The truth of the invisible,” he explains, “is ‘demonstrated’ by the visible. Our mind can ascend to the truth of the invisible only when taught by the consideration of the visible.” (Expositio in Hierarchiam coelestem Dionysii Areopagitae II)

René Guénon’s explanation echoes Hugh of Saint-Victor’s:  “First of all,” he writes, “symbolism appears to be quite specially adapted to the needs of human nature, which is not a purely intellectual nature, but which requires a sensory base from which to rise to higher levels. One must take the human compound as it is, at once one and multiple in its real complexity; this is what tends to be forgotten, ever since Descartes claimed to establish a radical and absolute separation between soul and body.” This means that, in order to guarantee a complete understanding of reality and our place within it, “there can be no opposition between the employment of words and that of figurative symbols; these two modes of expression should rather be complementary to each other.” Therefore nothing is more wrong than thinking/saying that symbolism is suited to the under-standing of the common man only. It is rather the contrary that is true, writes Guénon. “Or better still,” he continues, “symbolism is suited equally to all, because it helps each one to understand the truth which it represents, more or less completely, more or less profoundly, according to the nature of each person’s own intellectual possibilities.” It is thus that even the highest truths can be communicated “up to a certain point” when they are “incorporated in symbols.” (“Word and Symbol” in Symbols of Sacred Science, trans. Henry D. Fohr, ed. Samuel D. Fohr. Hillsdale, NY: Sophia Perennis, 2004) Those very truths would not be otherwise communicable or transmissible and would remain hidden for many. Which, of course, would be an unforgivable loss for a large part of humanity.

Edward Burne-Jones - Tile Design -
Theseus and the Minotaur in the Labyrinth

Yet, as previously outlined, such an approach requires the acceptance of a non-calculated risk, a leap into the unknown. One of the most appropriate metaphors to illustrate and clarify the proposed approach is that of the labyrinth, such as the one in Chartres Cathedral in France, or the one that, according to Greek mythology,  was built by the legendary artificer Daedalus for King Minos of Crete at Knossos, and whose function was to hold the Minotaur, the monster eventually killed by the hero Theseus. In both cases, the symbolism refers to concepts such as the quest, spiritual pilgrimage, or odyssey through hell, etc. All of which include the ultimate risk of sacrificing—metaphorically or not—one’s life. The bet is that, as Hermann Kern states in his book Through the Labyrinth: Designs and Meanings Over 5,000 Years (2000, Prestel Publishing),  “In the labyrinth you will not get lost, in the labyrinth you will find yourself. In the labyrinth you will not meet the Minotaurus. In the labyrinth you will meet yourself.”

Ten Essential Guidelines and Tips for Social Media Users Who Put Truth First and Hate Fake News

 

Fed up with the spread of fake news? Well, here are a few survival tips… 

1. First and foremost, what is fake news? There are two kinds of fake news: a) stories that aren’t true, that is entirely invented stories designed to make people believe something false; b) stories that have some truth, but aren’t 100 percent accurate. For example, a journalist or a social media user—whether deliberately or by mistake—quotes only part of what a politician says, giving a false impression of their meaning. 

 
2. Although fake news makes headlines today, it is actually nothing new. But, what is new is how easy it’s become to share information—both true and false—on a massive scale. 

3. Social media platforms allow millions and millions of people to publish their thoughts or share stories with the world. Unfortunately, though, most people don’t check the source of the material that they view online before they share it, which can lead to fake news going viral faster than covid-19. 

4. Before helping to spread fake news, please check whether anyone else has picked up on the story and what other sources say about it. 

5. Please bear in mind that a credible news story generally includes plenty of facts and/or detailed, consistent, and corroborated eye-witness accounts from people on the scene. If this is not the case, be suspicious. 

6. The main reason why fake news is such a big issue is that, in addition to being almost always believable, it is written to create “shock value,” that is, a reaction of sharp disgust, shock, anger, fear, or similar negative emotions. Therefore, a dose of critical thinking will always be needed. 

7. Always be suspicious of the news you want to hear, especially the most spectacular and sensational… 

Last but not least, on behalf of fair play and to maintain a high standard of intellectual honesty, please note that: 

8. Quoting someone’s words without giving credit, especially when done intentionally, is plagiarism and is generally considered unethical. 

9. Attributing a quote to someone without previously checking whether or not he/she actually said what you say he/she did is unethical and unfair. 

10. The same applies to those who report that someone did/said something without mentioning the source and, what is more, without checking the reliability of the source itself. In turn, to a journalist, attribution simply means telling your readers where the information in his/her story comes from…

Facebook Friends Lists

Recently a friend wrote in her timeline, “Evidently I've been talking to myself since Christmas. All my FB posts were privacy set to ‘Only me.’” That did automatically ring a bell for me, because something similar happened to me as well in the past—I don’t want to be too specific on that… Actually, it was frustrating and comic at the same time.

Nevertheless, such events have the power to bring attention to the wide range of opportunities Facebook offers us : you can decide—either once and for all or on a case-by-case basis—who (and where and when) can see your posts: Public, Friends, Friends of Friends, Only me, Custom (lists of friends, etc). Most users have their Facebook privacy set to Friends only or Friends of friends. As a rule I personally prefer the “Public” option, but from time to time and for specific purposes I may make exceptions—most of the times for reasons of respect and elegance.

However, and apart from specific preferences, what matters most is to make the best out of one’s Facebook account. For this purpose here are some suggestions and tips.

• How to Artfully Cull Your Facebook Friends List
• How To Manage Your Facebook Relationships With Friend Lists
• How to Create a Custom Facebook Friend List
• Facebook Friends List Can Help Control Your News Feed
• How to Hide Your Facebook Friends List

An Open Letter to My Social Media Friends

Dear Social Media Friends,
A few notes on my birthday, which occurred just yesterday. First, let me say a huge thank you to all of you that have been kind enough to stop by at my Facebook page and other social media, and leave your birthday wishes! All included—Facebook (timeline and chat), Twitter, LinkedIn, etc.—I received as many as several hundreds of birthday wishes from almost all over the world, especially from the United States of America, the UK, and the European Union. Let me just let you know that I appreciated each and every one of them and that I’m both grateful to you for your friendship and happy for the wonderful opportunities the new information and communication technologies offer to us. Especially for people of my generation, the state of the art of the ICT—which I consider a true blessing and a gift from God—is a continuous source of wonder and excitement.

However, I must say that what amazes me most about yesterday, is that my presence in the social media, and on the Internet in general, is not of the common kind, my most frequent posts being about political, philosophical and cultural issues: a bit boring for a lot of people, I’m afraid. At the same time I cannot but congratulate myself for choosing the right people to be friends with!

Of course, as always happens, birthdays are a great, if not unique, opportunity to unfriend and be unfriended... this time they were half a dozen, in addition to those—at least another half a dozen people—who have unfriended me in the last few weeks. But I don’t complain about that: I knew that supporting Donald Trump would have some consequences. Well, in a sense, I am grateful to them: I have never unfriended anyone on Facebook for political reasons, and never will, that’s contrary to my beliefs, but perhaps they were right in doing so. In other words, as we say in Italy, they pulled my chestnuts out of the fire.

Also, ever since I started supporting Trump things have cooled down with some of my best friends. No surprise at all, but then again every choice has a cost. I’m sorry about that, but I did what I had to do, and I’m proud about that. Do what is right, not what is easy. That’s integrity, I presume, or at least as much integrity as possible.

By the way, I want to point out one thing about the recent presidential election: Hillary was absolutely right when, in the immediate aftermath of her defeat, she said, “I want you to remember this: our campaign was never about one person or even one election…” That’s perhaps exactly the reason why so many people in America and around the world (including me) have spent their time and energies in fighting against her, her supporters, and what they stand for—the “values” they share, and the vision they hold—with all means at their disposition. The lesson is: whenever and wherever it’s needed, we’ll be there. 😏

That being said, thanks again, dear Friends, the special ones—those whom I have a certain degree of intellectual and/or spiritual affinity with—and all the others, which I deeply respect and appreciate. And may God continue to bless you and keep you in His loving hands forever.

About Poking on Facebook

Times are tough, I know, but let’s talk about something a bit more cheerful than my normal rants, let’s talk about Facebook, the most popular of all the social media platforms. There’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask someone in the know—you’ve just received a Facebook poke, and the first thing that comes to your mind is, “What is this, and what does it mean?”

Of course you may have an idea about the likely meaning of this specific event, in the light of the literal meaning of the word “poke”—“to push your finger or something thin or pointed into or at someone or something” (Merriam-Webster). But to dispel any doubts, an investigation is needed. Thus I googled for answers.. and found hundreds and hundreds of questions and answers.

First of all, what I learned from my search is that a very beloved feature—a button called “Poke”—was enabled since the day Facebook launched in 2004. The button didn’t come with any explanation or rules. Mark Zuckerberg, then 23, said he just wanted to make something with no real purpose..

Secondly, I learned that the Facebook poke was once considered to be a creepy flirting tool, but now it has evolved into something very different. In fact, the most common answer is that a poke on Facebook is more or less the equivalent of tapping someone on the shoulder to say a quick “hello.”

Another popular interpretation is that it is a way to let other people know that you are thinking of them without going through all the trouble of sending private messages or posting publicly to their online wall. A very simple and kind way of saying things like “Remember that I’m here if you’re in troubles, if you feel worn out, or if you need anything,” or just “I miss you,” or “I want you to know that I care about you and what you're going through.” Interesting, isn’t it? Well, of course you might say, “Wouldn’t it be better to just pick up the phone and call her/him?” To which one could reply, “Yes, but sometimes (not to say always) life is more complicated than we would like!” A very strong counter argument, in my view.

Thus, Facebook makes it easier to express our inner feelings and thoughts. Which is not a small thing, above all in these harsh and troubled times.

That being said, however, it is clear that you shouldn’t poke people you don’t really know, especially because you can’t always predict the consequences, if you understand what I mean.., and certainly you shouldn’t take a poke too seriously—remember that 99 times out of 100 a poke is meant to be just for fun.

In any case, and to conclude, I’d say that the main result of my investigations on this subject may be stated as follows: there are no rules for this kind of thing—instinct, common sense, and good taste should guide us here. My viewpoint, for what it’s worth, can perhaps best be summed up by the cartoon below.. ;)

Keep up the good poking!

Being Conservative: New Facebook Page

I've just created a Facebook page for my latest book, Being Conservative from A to Z!  Please feel free to leave comments, reviews or click the "like" box.

Dearest readers, I'd like to take this opportunity to let you know that this will be the first post of a new series after a long silence on this blog. Get ready and hold on, a new beginning is almost upon us...

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