This week I sniffed through my alchemy collection. On Wednesday I can give a lecture in Arminius' Speakeasy. All top secret. So I hope this column stays between us.
Translated from Dutch by Google (we hope Google will start using A.I. soon)
Speakeasy was invented during Prohibition in America in the 1920s.
When alcohol was banned they gave the best parties there.
Alchemy was never allowed at all. Not from the church.
Where does this tendency in people come from to forbid each other from everything?
And why is it counterproductive for me? If something is not allowed, I immediately feel like it.
We will probably never find out the answer to these questions.
I know why alchemy conquered me. The Church did not want the individual to strive for enlightenment. As long as believers felt ashamed and guilty, the pastor retained his power. The fear of God gave him a stick to beat. Those who are good will go to heaven, he told his donkeys a carrot. Or, if you gave some money, he personally negotiated with the big boss for you. The billions that this trick has yielded are still waiting for our dear lord in the tax-free Vatican City.
It is of course not convenient for such an Institute if everyone can turn lead into gold. In other words, turning your lower feelings like shame and guilt into love. Because that's what alchemy promises. It teaches you to be happy. To awaken.
The millennial tradition explains how to transform your fears. To become like God, they called it. Or to walk on water, as it is so beautifully expressed in the Bible.
Sheer blasphemy! the church ruled.
Alchemists were not sure of life. They were hanged. On a gilded scaffold. That again.
That is why these 'sorcerers' united in secret societies. And stirred pots and pans in underground laboratories.
To the outside world, they pretended to be crazy. They were supposedly looking for the philosopher's stone to turn lead into gold. And strawberries in camels.
Meanwhile, they wisely kept the secret of happiness to themselves.
Their writings revolve around a mysterious creation formula. Who was once scratched into an emerald table by Toth, an Egyptian God. If you deciphered this spell you were a Grandmaster Flash. A grand master.
It seems that the more often a problem is solved, the easier it becomes for the next generation. Anyway. I had unraveled the mystery in five minutes.
No. Of course I'm not going to reveal that here.
Just come to the Speakeasy and enjoy a cocktail.
