The Crucifixion of the Mystical: An Excerpt from "Fulcanelli’s Retreat" by Matt Presti What may be spoken of the utter state of loneliness that must accompany the mystical human being? Despite the ecstatic actuality of the mystical experience, far beyond sensory minutia, the familiar thread shared between such accounts IS that timeless apprehension of the utter beauty (Undivided Light) that lay behind all motion (duality); preference to being alone in order to create; sharing such offerings of a vastly greater expansive noetic potential than the race of man deserves. Here, the lingering thought of having not a single human being to converse with or relate to is dismal, depressing, and totally devoid of any pleasurable outcome. How could one make a home with such melancholy, much less desire it? Is it better to blend among the mediocrities than to bleed out because of them? If the toll of reaching 'too high' is crucifixion of one kind or another, especially in the age of declination such as we now find ourselves in, is it not wiser to fade, preserve and protect one’s life as Fulcanelli did? The mental barbarian is no less advanced than one who bludgeons the body of some life function through blunt instrumentation or traumatic force. There is no greater enemy to the endless potential underlying such true being than to suffer the crucifixion of lesser minds. However, that being said, lesser minds generally win out due to their ingrained systematicism. The attraction of their familiar base primate consciousness is greater than their ability to 'level up' toward the Light of their vast inner spiritual nature and utterly mysterious identity which bars them entry by default. For them, mystery itself breeds contempt, derision and ridicule, as those forgotten names who were burned at the stake of the academic altars of the early 20th century (up to the present day) would surely attest to. Merely 100 years before them, the stakes were made of iron and wood. It ...