A solution to Loagaeth, Part 8: A quick example of working with Liber Loagaeth: Leaf 9a

I’ve given several parts to the exploration of this mystical book, but I thought it would be best to try to show how some parts of this might look. For this, I’m using the scan from Phergoph’s blog for Leaf 9a, “Pagesgem.”

Row 1 shows a typical row, minus seven digits at the beginning and seven at the end (not shown):

Leaf 9a, row 1

Were I to venture a guess, I would parse this as: SED NACH AN ZACLAN ZAB ULACH OD AN GAH ZUCHA.

Some of this we have translations for; “OD” means “and” (I take my translations from Leitch’s The Angelical Language, Vol. 2) “Gah” means “spirits,” and “An” is one of the angelic Sons of Sons of Light, assigned to Jupiter if the order of activation holds, but potentially to Mercury or Hermes Trismegistus given the green tablet he held: SED NACH the angel An ZACLAN ZAB ULACH and the angel An, spirits ZUCHA. Unfortunately, there isn’t much else to go on. ULACH seems to have the root word UL, which is a noun meaning “end,” so one could speculate that this is a verb form of “to end.” ZACAR is an imperative form of the verb “to move,” so one could speculate ZACLAN is a different conjugation of “to move”; “LANG” means “those [angels] who serve,” whole “LANSH” means “exalted power,” suggesting LAN- means “exalting service,” so “ZACLAN” could mean “moving in service of.” Using these, one could interpolate some meaning: “SED NACH the angel An moves in service ZAB in order to end spirits ZUCHA.” A bit clearer, but still ultimately speculative.

You see the difficulty here. What about applying some of the techniques we’ve seen? Consider row 30 from Leaf 11a, “Ozimba Londorh” (the title itself suggestive of “Londoh,” meaning “kingdoms”):

Leaf 11a, Row 30, Part 1
Leaf 11a, Row 30, Part 2

I could parse this row as follows (I’ve italicized the larger lowercase letters): GE O GRAPH AN ALGED GEMNA VEDRAD OTHAL DAH GE HUD AXLO GEDNOG.

This seems worse, until you begin substituting the actual letter the spelled out letters (for example, in English, the letter B would be spelled out B-E-E, C would be C-E-E, and D would be, heh, spelled D-E-E). Enochian sometimes spells letters contrary to their pronunciation, so while Ged is the English letter G, Graph is the letter E. Here we can obtain:

GE O, E AN ALG GEMNA VEDRAD OTHAL DAH GE HUD AXLO GNOG.

“GE” means “not” and “O” means five. “DAH” may be equivalent to “DA,” which means “there.” So, we can begin a translation with:

“Not five”–possibly referring to the remaining five Sons of Sons of Light–“Not five, the angels E [and] An ALG GEMNA VEDRAD OTHAL there, not HUDAX LO GNOG.” “GNOG” may seem like an unlikely Enochian word, but there are a few which do begin with the letter G (actually Ged) followed by a consonant. Still, not enough to obtain much meaning. Let’s turn back to a third excerpt, this time again from Leaf 9a, but Row 25 (before & after the circle)

Leaf 9a, Row 25, before the circle.
Leaf 9a, Row 25, after the circle

ALGED NOPAL GETA–NOCH AN ALDAPH NA.

Substituting: “ALG NOX GETA–NOCH AN ALDAPH NA”; translating to the extent I can and including some speculation (“noco” means “servant” or “minister”): “ALG, [a] ministering angel out of Him–a ministering angel, the angel An, a gathering angel [of] The Lord.” Here we get a repeat of one of the words we’ve already seen: ALG, associating once again with the angel An.

This is merely applying one technique. Supposing that some transposition should be used, then ALG could mean AGL–“no,” “no one,” or “none”: “No [mere] ministering angel out of Him, [but] the ministering and gathering angel, An, of The Lord.” Yet it could instead mean the more straightforward “one within none,” a potential, realized as this angel An. Or “The one [come out] of nothing, a ministering angel out of Him, the ministering angel An, the ministering angel An, the gathering angel of The Lord.” In this interpretation, the transposition is a signature of Loagaeth across different lines of the text. There are hundreds of these seeming transpositions, insertions, and apparent substitutions, none of which seem to render the strings of an individual row completely meaningless, but rather to multiple forms of interpretation–“multiplied and dignified,” one could say. Still, for now, these remain somewhat incomplete (“fallen” from a complete translation) unless a key, or series of keys, is discovered.

I’ve previously alluded to potential paths to such a key, but for now I continue to manually copy Liber Loagaeth. I prefer getting this done to jumping toward a solution. Still, I wish to leave these potential clues for others who may be further ahead in their journey.

A Solution to Liber Loagaeth, Part 7

So I got to the “Pagesgem” half-leaf (9a) a few days ago. Aside from it being beautiful and the only table to both have numbers and a name, Bornogo, from the Heptarchy (four times in a beautiful cross-and-X pattern), and being the only table to have a large circle of diameter 21 within the grid, I wanted to make some points about the numbers themselves.

The four corners have simple 7×7 tables within them with either the numbers 1-7 or 2-8 in rows; two of each appear in opposing corners. Thus the sum of each row is either 28 or 35, meaning that two sum to 196 and two sum to 245; each pair sums to 441 (21^2), a number I’ve dealt with at length before. The digits begin in ascending order and from there shift over one spot, meaning that the number 1 for the 1-7 table and the number 2 for the 2-8 table is in a diagonal. The one exception is the lower-right corner which has the top of the table with the numbers 1-7 in reverse order at the top. Interestingly, if one chose to view the reversal as a reason to subtract that table from its lower-left counterpart, one would naturally get a difference of 49.

The lower-right corner is another clue, namely the general area that also number 49: column 32 of the grid within the circle (not including the ring of numbers itself–which sums to 272 (16*17–not part of a Pythagorean triple, sadly!). The circle itself, I should note, has exactly 111 letters within it, 111 being the number of God and the Gematria value of the Hebrew letter Aleph when spelled out (the Aleph as a letter alone is worth 1), and the ring is composed of 56 (7*8) numbers.

Interestingly, columns 30-32 break the inner pattern of the circle in many ways. Columns 18-20 (rows 18-20 & 30-32) have two length-3 sides adjoined by 90 degrees with a repeating number: the number 6 in the upper-left and the number 2 in the lower-left. For the counterpart in the upper right, a 4-4-4 column meets a 3-3-3 row due to a break in the normal pattern. The lower-right is even “curiouser”: the numbers make a 5-5-5 column, the topmost 5 of which begins a 5-6-5 row. Intrigued, I decided to sum these numbers by column and by row, and the number 6 produced a column sum (excluding the ring of the circle) of 50, while its neighbor which (which ends the row) yielded a column sum of 49. See the screenshot:

Columns 31 & 32 of Leaf 9a, within the circle

Fifty is a Kabbalistically significant number (associated with Binah and the letter Nun, among other things), and 49, of course, relates once more to both the Heptarchy and the dimensionality of Loagaeth. Of interest to me is that is these positions, columns 31 & 32, refer via addition to 63, or 7*9; multiplying by 7 (the basis of much of Enochian) yields 441 once again. the number of the row is 30, referring to the number of Aethyrs.

So, having seen this pattern here, another possible means to solve Loagaeth is to look to Columns 32 (the 6th & 7th from the middle row) and possibly also Row 30; or just cells R30C31 and R30C32 (to use MS Excel notation), across the tables. It’s possible a pattern (such as an Enochian phrase providing another clue) can arise in this manner. I haven’t yet explored it, but I will!

A Solution to Liber Loagaeth, Part 6

Note: see update at bottom.

So one other thing that has previously been observed about Loagaeth is the interspersing of the full Enochian letters throughout the text. For example, the Enochian letter equivalent to the English letter E is Graph, the equivalent to Z is Ceph, etc. The letters of Loagaeth were transmitted one by one, yet the letters themselves sometimes spell out a letter, equivalent to receiving J-A-Y in order to just make the letter J, C-E-E to receive the letter C, and so on. So the simplest of substitutions is to experiment with replacing these spelled-out letters with a single letter, and then using what remains to create a word, the equivalent of turning J-A-Y-O-B into J-O-B by substitution to have the word “job.” I suspect that much more of the Loagaeth text will be readable by just making this change.

You can see a couple of advantages of this sort of veiling of the knowledge for those receiving initiation into these mysteries (or in our case, piercing the veil, since we don’t have Dee or other direct lineage from which to receive initiation!). The main one is that, as Cody P. has mentioned to me, the psychological effect of gestalt and also deeper awareness of our symbols, and connection to how we form them when we pronounce them. Interestingly, the names of the Enochian letters don’t include the sounds they represent. Other than Ged for the equivalent of G and Van for V, no other letters include the sound of the letter within the full names of the Enochian letters: English A is Un in Enochian, B is Pa, C and K are Veh, D is Gal, and so on. It’s almost as if Enochian is trying to lift us up from identification of the letters from their mere “pronunciation” and instead create letters which are separate from their pronunciation, words that are closer to their root meaning, and verbs with so many irregular varieties and varied spellings that the mind has to take each instance of speech as a unique moment of communication.

Yet this speech also is part of a narrative (unveiling of knowledge, the fall of humanity–and implicitly, the hope of evolution from a merely human state for those who are lifted up by Divine grace through these mysteries), a mathematical structure, a Divine force to uplift our minds, a geometric structure in which we think, and the like. The foundation, of course, is humility (deep openness to knowledge the supplicant lacks) and a sufficient understanding. The angels then provide a language that separates the understanding of the letter as separate from (or more accurately, not parallel with) the production of speech–in neurological terms a language that separates Wernicke’s area from Broca’s area. This allows a new way to think about thinking, a new way to use language and reading in understanding.

The angels incorporate parts of an individual’s existing symbolic narratives as well and communicate via both imagery and speech to the supplicant. Along the way they include number sense (the dorsal parietal, frontal, and inferior temporal areas of the brain, apparently), and as the visions in the Enochian Aethyrs themselves become progressively more abstract, they become more geometric in nature, so throw in visual-spatial and geometry skills. Because there’s so much to coordinate, there is quite likely a large working memory component for the supplicant to develop as well.

All in all, this process seems like several subtle reboots to the brain, an upgrade to individual interface packages, followed by a big change to the operating system. The importance of this is that unravelling each part of this is helpful to the supplicant in considering transformation/decryption of the text, as well as interpretations of Loagaeth.

At any rate, I’m not pursuing this solution just yet (I’m trying to onor the ; I just wanted to let some of the considerations that could be applied to a potential solution to Loagaeth.

Update. An interesting of the letter whenever its spelled out name appears in Leaf 49: doncha, ur, chinvane, vors (or uors), adnor. This reduces the words to icha, L, chinve, ufs (more likely than vfs), and adnf (likely pronounced adneff by inference). This also reduces the number of total letters in Leaf 49 from 113 to 106. Repeating this process with our new words, we can further reduce chinve to chinc for 105 letters (as specified by the angel Galvah). The reduction by seven letters and then an eighth also parallels the seven heptarchical kings who are ruled by an eighth. An additional justification of this approach is that it leaves five L’s, paralleling the five tables of 21 letters that Galvah instructed Dee to make out of the words received.

This parallels Leitch’s reduction of the letters in Leaf 49 via the spelled-out letter zed to Z and reducing ch to k via Kelley pronouncing the former digraph as a /k/ sound. This is only somewhat defensible given that the angels spelled out the ch as two letters in Row 1 of Leaf 1A (making a seven-letter word, to Dee’s delight, recognizing the concordance of this with the septenary nature of the Heptarchy), and that other words, such as Moz and Mozod, aren’t equivalent, for the angel Nalvage specifies they have similar but not identical meanings (“joy” and “joy of God”).

Another approach to reducing Leaf 49 from 113 letters to 105 put forward by the AOM is to simply remove the eight-letter word “Loagaeth,” because it had previously been received. This is doubtful, for it was only received moments earlier. Leitch suggests either a miscount by Dee (which he is rightly dubious of, mainly because he could see the words in front of him, to which I would add the five tables that Galvah instructs Dee to arrange the letters into five tables of 21 letters, which parallels the 21 letters of the Enochian alphabet itself), or that two words which appeared separately, adnor and doncha, belong together because Dee may have split the word adnordoncha when a distracting vision of seas appeared before Kelley. This is a good case, as is he unique underlining notation below vors and hirobra being suggestive of concatenation for vorshirobra.

The ultimate test of my approach, though, is whether this reveals a hidden order (of the wisdom/Chokmah variety) from what Galvah calls a “hotchpot without order” (much as Babalon appears more orderly with mental concentration in ZIP), and is consistent with Galvah‘s observations, of “the speech of that disorder or prophe[cy].” Unfortunately because this adds to the number of I‘s (or Gon‘s), this does not create letters that can be removed from the end of the letters in Leaf 1b. Perhaps a transformation of Leaf 49 (such as replacing the letters with those in the reverse place in order) and then subtracting those letters from 1B may work, or that approach may remain a dead end. Regardless, I simply want to transparently show readers my process in thinking about a possible solution to Liber Loagaeth, to share additional interpretations of this material, and to encourage those who may have their own approaches in working with it.

Seeking a Search to a Solution to Liber Loagaeth, Part 5

Some divine inspiration struck last night regarding certain numbers and their part in Liber Loagaeth. All of the leaves, save two, are in the 49×49 letter format. The first leaf has the front side (leaf 1a) with 49×49 words (hence why they must be written out over several pages, though the truly hardcore industrial individual may purchase a foldable 24″ square page and try to fit them all in!), and the “back” (leaf 1b) has 40×49 words and then has a 9×49 table of letters, 441 letters in all. The number 441 parallels the SDA as mentioned in prior posts.

The final table, 49, is “one” (i.e., the angels did not have Dee & Kelley produce a “back” side), and is to be made into five 3×7 tables, for 105 letters in all. This table is described as “a hotchpot without order, so it signifieth a disorder of the World, and is the speech of the Disorder or Prophe[cy].” By implication, the rest of the book should not be of the same sort of disorder. To understand the order of the rest of the book, then, a user who understands mathematics must subtract the number 105 from the 441 for a total of 336 letters. 336 divided by the number seven (the cornerstone of the Heptarchia and much of the rest of the system!) yields 48–the same number of total leaves of the first 48 leaves of the book.

How might such a solution work? I suspect that each of these 48 “keys” unlocking each table is used twice, once with the word going forwards, and once with it going backwards. We have seen the play on “the first shall be last, and the last shall be first” in my prior post on seeking a solution to Loagaeth. This may yield the Enochian keys / calls themselves. It may even be that each of the keys is to work, not once for each leaf, but rather the first key will unlock Leaves 1a & 48b, the second 1b & 4a, the third 2a & 47b, etc.

Let’s start with seeing if we can obtain a key: here is the key as transcribed from Sloane 3188 (note that for the sake of clarity I haven’t reversed the tables as they would appear in the Enochian script):

ADROS,A,CLODFAC,DOGEPNAH,LAPCAH,MOCDACODEFAMON,TUALC,DOM,
URASNAGEPH,AMPHIDON,GANSEL,VAX,OREHAMAH,VORSAFANSA,UKAS
DAMIFAGA,NABULAX,ORSAGEH,NAMVAH,OCAR,LUNSANGEL,CARPACOA.
LUNSEMNEPH,ODARNACHOH,ZEMBLOH,OBLICANDON,GALSORXULAGA,
FOMNAPH,APANSAGEH,LONSUGALAN,GRAST,UBLANSO,ARNOX,VONSAO
TALTEMAPHECH,ORMACHADAGENOX,URSTAMVAH,NADVAREH,ONS,ARG
ZUCANZU,NAPLIORAH,NORGE,HAHANAHA,USPLAH,GRADUNVAH,NAVIO,
ARSAH,VONROGEN,DAHVALAH,ORZAP,CUL,CARSED,A,PO,RSAL,QASTAVA,
GANFUMARABOMONAH,GASTAGES,ORDOLPH,NAQAS,ORGEMVAH,NOXAD.
bottom of Leaf 1B from Liber Loagaeth

Next, I move forward in order across this table and delete each letter from the first table 49 (I’m using the AOM version, without the word “Loagaeth”; doing this with the Leitch version leaves a suspiciously untouched 8th & 9th row from Leaf 1b):

ADROS,A,CLODFAC,DOGEPNAH,LAPCAH,MOCDACODEFAMON,TUALC,DOM,
URASNAGEPH,AMPHIDON,GANSEL,VAX,OREHAMAH,VORSAFANSA,UKAS
DAMIFAGA,NABULAX,ORSAGEH,NAMVAH,OCAR,LUNSANGEL,CARPACOA.
LUNSEMNEPH,ODARNACHOH,ZEMBLOH,OBLICANDON,GALSORXULAGA,
FOMNAPH,APANSAGEH,LONSUGALAN,GRAST,UBLANSO,ARNOX,VONSAO
TALTEMAPHECH,ORMACHADAGENOX,URSTAMVAH,NADVAREH,ONS,ARG
ZUCANZU,NAPLIORAH,NORGE,HAHANAHA,USPLAH,GRADUNVAH,NAVIO,
ARSAH,VONROGEN,DAHVALAH,ORZAP,CUL,CARSED,A,PO,RSAL,QASTAVA,
GANFUMARABOMONAH,GASTAGES,ORDOLPH,NAQAS,ORGEMVAH,NOXAD.

Repeating these steps with the remaining four tables from Leaf 49, one quickly discovers a problem: there are more letter I’s (Enochian: Gon) in that table than in Leaf 1B, regardless of whether the AOM or Leitch version of Leaf 49 is used. Darn! A “hotchpot of disorder” indeed!

My next attempt was to take every seventh letter out of these 441 letters; the first result of this is a 9 row by 7 column (the first 63 letters out of 105), which I show below with the letters of King Carmara (I’ve also bolded an additional letter M for the Marmara version) and Prince Hagonel.

C DH,MDTM,
GHNOH,AS
GAEH,NCA.
NRZODOA,
H,GURAOO
ARARH,EG
U,RE,HH,VO,
ODH,UD,L,A,
ANAOAVD.

I then continued with the remaining 42 letters out of 105, and noticed that not only were Carmara & Hagonel there, but also, separately, the common letters of Baligon (the Venusian version of King Carmara) and Bagonel (the Venusian version of Prince Hagonel): BAGNLO; with a separate I & E:

LGPAOO
EDL,AAA
A,OAR,EO
EABCLG
AH,LURA
PANMAR
NH,HPUI

Coincidence? Maybe, but the presence of these two kings and princes in particular (leaving only 19 out of the original 42 letters NOT part of a royal angelic name) suggests to me that rather than removing letters from this in a disordered manner (i.e., how they originally showed up), it makes more sense to remove the number of disorder from the original 441 in an orderly manner. Doing so seems to be confirm the method in that the Heptarchia shows up so as to wink at the process.

What remains are the following 48 seven-letter combinations, which may or may not unlock individual tables in Loagaeth:

ADROSAO DFACOEP NALACAH OCDCOEF AMNUALC DURASNA
PHAMPIO NGASEVA XREHMAV ORSFNSA UKDAMIF ANABULX
RSAGHNM VAOCALU SANGLAR PACLUNS EMPHODA NCHOHEM
LOHBLIA NONGASR XULAFOM NAPPANS AELONSG AANGAST
BLNSOAN XVONSTA LTEMHEC HOMCHAD GEOXUST AVANADU
RHONSAZ UCANZAP LIOANOR GHAANAA USLAGRA DNAHNAV
ARSAHVN ROGENAH VALAORZ APCLCAR SEAPORS AQASTAV
GANFUMR ABOMOAH GASTGES ORDLPHN AQSORGE MAHNOXA

I’ll try to test these out later when I get some inkling of how they are to work, but this is the stage that I’m at right now. Clearly, more needs to happen before this is solved. If you like, feel free to work to see if there is an algorithm; just get back to me (there’s an email form somewhere on the site) if you’re successful.

“Without this, I shall do nothing.”

The title of this post comes from the opening lines to activate the PELE ring. It was reviewing Aaron Leitch‘s writings on Liber Loagaeth, wherein he reminds the reader to wear the ring whilst working on copying the book, that it occurred to me to make an effort to wear the ring at all times. I have noticed some effects of doing so (note that I try to activate it using the full line as laid out by Lon Milo Duquette).

First, I’ve noticed a general smoothness in my life. External events don’t seem to touch me as much, although I still go through the typical ups and downs.

Next, I’ve noticed that the ring responds to the “holiness” of what I’m doing. I can feel a certain change in tingle in the area if I’m doing right or veering down a wrong path. Note that this doesn’t really have to do with the strict religious observances, but more a matter of the condition of the heart.

Third, having the ring on also seems to help deepen and “level up” meditation.

Finally, I’ve made fewer mistakes in copying Liber Loagaeth and, of course, have had the inspiration to find several approaches to try to discover a solution to it.

So, I do indeed recommend activating and wearing this ring daily, even if there’s no particular magick you intend to perform with it. Having worn it like this, I intend for my first tattoo to be a gold-colored PELE ring on my right index finger whenever I have the extra funds.