The burning corpse of god shall keep us warm in the doom of howling winds,
For we are a race from beyond the wanderers of night.
And just as one can die of fright before the blow is struck, so too can one die of joy. Thus the soul dies to herself before she steps into God.
– Meister Eckhart
Cyclonopedia is a book that opens Earth to the divinity of reality. The intoxicating effect of its theory-fiction terror is to defuse the double, mutual hostage-taking of philosophy and religion, their shared aporetic stand-off according to which reality remains the occluded object of fiction and divinity the eclipsed object of theory. Here theory-fiction is not a cool new hybrid capable of synthesizing and rescripting their domains towards an iterable new science or discipline. It is not about unifying and resolving their double truth. Instead the book is a trisonic betrayal that is treacherously against both via treason of each to the other. Cyclonopedia thus takes place in a new time that it instantiates and narrates: Incognitum Hactenus, or anonymous-until-Now, “a double-dealing mode of time connecting abyssal time scales to our chronological time, thus exposing us to the horror of times beyond.” Anonymous-until-Now is the time of Cyclonopedic writing, the date of this symposium, an evental logic that deals with local and cosmic time as it does with fiction and theory. In this time, “things leak into each other according to a logic that does not belong to us and cannot be correlated to our chronological time.” Chronos leaks into theory (the vision of aiôn), aiôn leaks into fiction (the narration of chronos). Inverting the messianic now wherein time is kairically suspended above chronicity as “the time we need to make time end: the time that is left us [il tempo che ci resta],” Cyclonopedia chronically inters kairos into a time we no longer need to make time begin: the time that never was ours. Now that all life is over, every moment is opportune, the time of human gods and divine demons, a present stretching far beyond the limits of past and future. In place of the expectation of resurrection the book offers a funerary feast: “God turns himself into a good meal for the human, the earth and the outside.” In place of Armageddon it offers the terrestrial playground of White War, the abode of unbounded, as opposed to final, conflict, “at once the white of impenetrable fog and the color of peace.” Incognitum Hactenus is a revolutionary enthymeme or argument-without-assumption, applicable in all spheres, that stabs at the heart of the mutual exclusiveness of plans and peace, the wanting-to-have-it-both-ways of human worry whose global monument is the Middle East Peace Plan.
So the text’s symptom, a sign of its truly taking effect, is to render the philosopher (realist or idealist) no longer concerned with being right and the believer (nihilist or theist) no longer concerned with being good – a corruption or fatal breaking of anxious commitment that, far from ruining rightness and goodness, extimately intensify them into the beautiful absolute contingency of truth or being-divine of reality. Actually (what is happening right now), there is no such thing as divinity or reality. Neither ex-ist. The divine is no more divine than reality is real – a no more or ne plus ultra that is logically equivalent to the unnamable intersection of the divine alone is real and reality alone is divine. Truly, there is only a someone and something that is both and neither, a double dealing trison that treasonously twists all trinities, “a line of openness that slashes through the god, the human and the earth.” “No—it wasn’t that way at all. . . . There were eyes—and a blemish. It was the pit—the maelstrom—the ultimate abomination. . . . it was the unnamable!” This final conversion scene of Lovecraft’s (un)eponymous tale, in which a rationalist-fideist or “orthodox sun-dweller” confesses experience of what escapes representation, something beyond imagination and conception, is my practical reception theory for Cyclonopedia, that is, a theory of reception as real theory or vision of the incommunicable real, the unbinding of experience and perception whose perfect storm does simultaneous violence to the being-there of the world as the ground of reality and the being-nowhere of God as the ground of divinity. The cyclone’s spin is especially damaging to philosophy’s perception of “the death of God . . . as a religious or a secular event, with an affordable price for both parties, God and human.” Into the fundamentally deferring mouths of the intellectual bargainers, whether of the party who “think a moratorium ought to be declared to prevent any further ‘God talk’ by philosophers” or of the party who hope in the hyperchaotic possibility of a God “posited as inexistent and possible . . . contingent and unmasterable,” Cyclonopedia stuffs a “Good Meal or ambrosia plague . . . gourmandized in the abattoir of openness,” a spicy immolated synthesis of what divinity eats ‘up there’ and punishes the world with ‘down here’.
It is as victim-agents or wound-wielders of this divine slaughterhouse of the real that we are present today, complicit with the anonymous materials of a book whose divine reality resides in the same complicity with itself, its involvement and collusion with what “entertains no commonalities with anyone.” The nature of our interest is proof and demonstration of this: interested in everything but not concerned with anything. That is the mode and mood of a twisted symposium, free from worry in the immunity (as opposed to community) of its own spontaneity, the exemption from civic service and enjoyment of the Outside that is available to all. “The twist . . . has a spontaneous ability to reclaim and remobilise all forms of plot, perspective and history by force, collusion or contamination on behalf of a contingent outside.” Such speculation from the other side equals all-embracing concern-less interest in the sense of an enacted situation where concern (i.e. following the plot) is always bending back around into a hole for the exercise of new interest. Concern is conic, an empty territorializing funnel-projection, which when reversed makes an enticing opening. Turn your worry inside out. The twist troubles, but essentially in a way that more deeply troubles trouble itself. Otherwise it is not a real twist. The common expression ‘twisted reality’ covertly acknowledges this spontaneous dynamic, which is the vehicle of project as science of being opened, rather than expressive scheming – the latter being a form of intentionality confessed by all who are triumphally preoccupied (superiorly or inferiorly) with chronic turns, who insist upon remaining in the audience (being as public self-hallucination) and refuse to take the blame for everything by not worrying about it. Real turning, on the other hand, con-version or together-turning, is an occupation of the omnipresent pivotal state around which the All turns. At the center of revolution is the twist of the real, the infinitesimally essential axle-line of pure dis-tortion or utter-twisting. It is that which is negatively visible as face in the moment of Augustine’s nigredo: “You turned me back toward myself, taking me from behind my own back . . . And you set me there before my own face that I might see how vile I was, how twisted [distortus].” Correlatively, the twistedness of reality as external condition is illustrated in the logic of Lovecraftian vision, wherein the twist of the image shadows forth precisely by distortion the unimaginable shape of the real: “the phantom had been twisted and exaggerated, and had contained things which the real source did not contain; yet now, as we saw that real source, we thought it even more hideous and menacing than its distant image.” It appears, moreover, that these are Siamese facts, that the unseeability of oneself and the unboundedness of the cosmos are specularly identical or projections of the same mirror or reflective severing. “It possesses a face towards Being and nothingness. It stands opposite each of these two known things in its very essence. It is the third known thing. Within it are all possible things. It is infinite, just as each of the other two known things is infinite.” To which may be compared Reza’s thinking of the revolutionary earth via “a theory of an exteriorizing Absolute that affords interiorized horizons and localizing points of view as its own forms of cut or excision which can be deepened or topologically recalibrated.” The twisted-on-itself curvature of the cosmos is homologically bound to the projective self-blindness of consciousness: “The process of the winding up of sanskaras [impressions] consists of these regular twists; and it is these twists which keep the consciousness, gained by the drop-soul, directed and fixed towards the bubble or the form instead of towards its real Self.” Concerted maximization of interest and minimization of concern accordingly follows a path to the centerless center along which increasing essential distortion is conjoined to intensifying freedom, a way of dervishly arriving or becoming-transparent towards a pure twist beyond all movement. Cyclonopedia narrates this process as the life-pottery of Ahrimanistic creativity or leper creativity, the development of “an enigmatic insensitivity in the act of creation in which the created and the creator are merged and dissociated through insensitivity to each other.” I throw myself, like clay on a potter’s wheel, into “a confusion in which no straight line can be traced or drawn between the creator and the created – original inauthenticity,” in other words, total simultaneous incomprehensibility of both the distinction and the non-distinction between divinity and reality: the truest image of what (I) is.
An agency of ambrosia plague, our interest in Cyclonopedia is parasitic, a sweet-smelling captivated vermin-response to the book as new earth, a place for openings: “Nemat-space is infected with gate hysteria.” Why would anyone bother if we are not a “( )hole complex . . . creat[ing] more passages than are needed in the Earth’s body [i.e. contingently exceeding necessity], thus rendering it a host of its own ulterior motives?” Just as “we must cultivate a search for a new earth that ends in repeated failure but in a sense that does not re-transcendentalize the original earth,” so must we cultivate a search for a new Cyclonopedia that ends in repeated failure but in a sense that does not re-transcendentalize the original Cyclonopedia. Only parasites can speak with perfect honesty and authority about each others’ desires. It is of the parasite’s nature to be supremely interested and unconcerned, to be consumed with the taste of its own consumption, to be saturated with the spice of its own vital decay (odor sanctitatis). Oil too smells sweet, oleum martyris, the manna oil of Martyr Earth, like the black liquid that comes out of Saint Catherine’s body near the desert place called the ‘Shadow of God’ [Bezeleel], only more plentiful. Sancta Tellus, endogenic parasite of the body of God. As a para-digm never ceases exemplifying via its very singularity, “neutralizing the dichotomy between the general and the particular” and replacing it “with a bipolar analogical model,” the para-site (that which makes food of what is beside it) digests the host/parasite distinction into the bipolar disorder of its own being. The pest cannot stand looking up from its own meal. It only lives where there is no longer any time to refuse the absolute heresy: “The Grand Betrayal or Mithro-Druj is an all-inclusive invitation, a capital YES to everyone and everything, an ultimate welcome to all and everything; for this reason it secures a diffusive and affirmative epidemic power.”
I will now conclude by summarizing my idea in a more exact register. Reality is divine. Let us call this the Thesis of Universal Betrayal. The truth of it needs no other means, no reason nor revelation. It is as obvious as it is beyond assertion and denial. It is true through its own principle, which is to be its own principle, to betray everything for its own truth by being true. The being-divine of reality and the being-real of the divine are a two-faced double-dealing expression of one unnamable spontaneous univocal causality. That which is its own principle is divinely real and really divine. Reality is divinity causing itself to be real. Divinity is reality causing itself to be divine. On one side, the real’s being its own principle carries the sense of what truly is, of what is anywhere despite everything (necessity). What is necessary does not possess necessity – it is necessity. On the other side, divinity’s being its own principal carries the sense of what is absolutely independent, of what is everywhere itself (freedom). What is free does not possess freedom – it is freedom. Reality is real in being divine (free, unconditioned, absolutely itself). Divinity is divine in being real (necessary, conditioning, absolutely existent). Divinity and reality define a doubly necessary freedom, a doubly free necessity. A vortexical entity for whom freedom is necessity and necessity is freedom. The mood of the vortex, of the divinely twisting real, is interest without concern: being not in, but the middle (inter-esse) of the truth of the real and the enjoyment of divinity.
Cyclonopedia, in the real-contingent sense of the text that is our concernless interest in it, installs itself as the heretical interior of this twisting, spontaneous univocal causality. Cyclonopedia is the heresy, the intimate parasite of spontaneous univocal causality. Its double-helixed theme, Incognitum Hactenus or Anonymous-Until-Now and Inauthenticity or Complicity-With-Anonymous-
Materials, names the two-faced form that is symptomatic of this causality, the universal abomination or Ur-Thing-That-Should-Not-Be whose presence is everywhere intimated and forgotten as the eternal and specularly-twinned contingencies of Now and Individuation. This is the never-being of any reason at all why this is this, why I am I, why it is now now – an existent and actual never-being whose truest image should be named the Horror: “that shocking final peril which gibbers unmentionably outside the ordered universe, where no dreams reach; that last amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the centre of all infinity.” The hyper-contingencies of Now and Individation are not problems to be philosophically resolved or facts to be understood. They are the divine heresy of the real itself, its always splitting off in a spontaneous way. They are the covert substance of everything’s remaining unconvinced that it is not God. In Cyclonopedia, this originary creativity or whim of the Horror takes the explicit form of Zurvan’s parthenogenetic self-buggery, i.e. the obliviOnanism of the solitary universe (p.169: the sixty-nining of the One). Refusing to gaze in awe and stupefaction before this omnipresent perversion, Cyclonopedia weaponizes and wields it as a profound strategic tool, drawing it out into a line of openness that demon-strates more than wonder ever will its percussive limitless power, its being the never-ending blow from which nothing will ever recover. The joy of this, the dilation of the blow before the blow that will kill you, is that far from repeating the Horror, the book opens into a greater horror still, namely, that “there are no limits to the spreading influence of man.”
 Xasthur, “Doomed by Howling Winds,” Xasthur, Moribund Records, 2006.
 Meister Eckhart, The Complete Mystical Works, trans. Maurice O’C. Walshe (New York: Crossroad, 2009), Sermon 84, p.415.
 Reza Negarestani, Cyclonopedia: Complicity with Anonymous Materials (Melbourne: re.press, 2008), 49.
 It is not by design that today (11 March 2011) is the seventh anniversary of the text’s opening (11 March 2004), seven being “a numeric crypt which leads to the Warp Region of the Numogram, or the Outsider” (Negarestani, Cyclonopedia, 157).
 Negarestani, Cyclonopedia, 49.
 Giorgio Agamben, The Time That Remains: A Commentary on the Letter to the Romans, trans. Patricia Dailey (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2005), 68.
 Negarestani, Cyclonopedia, 207.
 Negarestni, Cyclonopedia, 126.
 “‘Now tell me, what do you want?’ [said Meher Baba] The man answered, ‘I want to fulfill my plans and have peace of mind.’ ‘Plans and peace! These two can never go hand in hand. Where there is peace, there is no plan; and where there are plans, there is turmoil. Either give up plans and have peace, or have your plans and give up thoughts of peace. You cannot have both. That is impossible” (Lord Meher, 6.2171, < http://www.lordmeher.org>).
 Negarestani, Cyclonopedia, 207.
 H. P. Lovecraft, “The Unnamable,” in The Dreams in the Witch House and Other Weird Stories, ed. S. T. Joshi (New York: Penguin, 2004), 87.
 Negarestani, Cyclonopedia, 207.
 Ray Brassier, “‘I am a nihilist because I still believe in truth’: Ray Brassier interviewed by Marcin Rychter,” Kronos 4 (2011), <http://kronos.org.pl/index.
 Quentin Meillassoux, “Spectral Dilemma,” Collapse IV: Concept Horror (2008): 271.
 Negarestani, Cyclonopedia, 207.
 Reza Negarestani, “Contingency and Complicity,” in The Medium of Contingency, ed. Robin Mackay (London: Urbanomic & Ridinghouse, 2011), 14.
 Reza Negarestani, “All of a Twist.”
 Augustine, Confessions, trans. F. J. Sheed, 2nd ed (Cambridge: Hackett,2006), 8.7.
 H. P. Lovecraft, At the Mountains of Madness
 Ibn ‘Arabī, Futûhât al-Makkîya [Meccan Illuminations], Chapter 312, quoted from Ibn ‘Arabī, The Universal Tree and The Four Birds: Treatise on Unification, trans. Angela Jaffray (Oxford: Anqa, 2006), 76.
 Reza Negarestani, “On the Revolutionary Earth: A Dialectic in Territopic Materialism,” (paper written for Dark Materialism, Natural History Museum, London, January 12, 2011).
 Meher Baba, God Speaks, 2nd ed (New York: Dodd, Mead & Co, 1973), 236.
 Negarestani, Cyclonopedia, 191.
 Negarestani, Cyclonopedia, 66.
 Negarestani, Cyclonopedia, 66.
 Ben Woodard, “Nihilismus Autodidactus,” Naught Thought <http://naughtthought.
 “And the prelate of the monks shows the relics of this virgin to pilgrims; with an instrument of silver [oil rig] he moves the bones of the virgin on an altar. Then there comes out a little oil, like sweat; but it is like neither oil nor balm, for it is blacker. Of this liquid they give a little to the pilgrims – for only a little comes out” (The Travels of Sir John Mandeville, trans. C. W. R. D. Moseley [New York: Penguin, 1983], 70).
 Giorgio Agamben, The Signature of All Things, trans. Luca D’Isanto with Keven Attell (New York: Zone, 2009), 31.
 Negarestani, Cyclonopedia, 32.
 Incognitum Hactenus and Inauthenticity correspond to freedom and necessity, respectively, but in a twisted way.
 Lovecraft, The Dreams in the Witch House, 156.
 Meher Baba, Discourses, II.92.