maybe SOMEONE will be able to see SOMETHING as it really is WATCHOUT (1994-5)
America’s First Great Awakening had arisen in the eighteenth century in the religious melange of Britain’s Middle Colonies; its Second in the broken country and ill-defined borderlands of Appalachia; its Third in a thousand different small towns on the edge of the vast grass-sea into which America would pour throughout the nineteenth century.
Given the steady Westwards shift of these movements, it is perhaps unsurprising that the Fourth Great Awakening would be centred between the Rockies and the Pacific Ocean. The strange florescence of religions, cults and mass movements, which came to firmly define the Pacifican 1970s in the public consciousness, was born from a steady migration to the wilderness in the beginning of that decade: impelled by vague memories of John Muir and Robinson Jeffers and the limberlost, the first generation of native-born Pacificans, raised under the ever-present shadow of annihilation at the hands of the CSA and chafing at the rigid conformity of small-town California, sought the parks and mountains and barren places of the Pacific as a preferable alternative to tract housing and Tupperware.
These fugitives trod a path which a previous generation of utopians had blazed for them, in some cases literally squatting on the abandoned foundations of intentional communities which had briefly flickered and then burned out in the late 1940s: the backbreaking manual labour of the first generation of commune dwellers may have been replaced by a growing number of residents who funded their time in the wilderness with periodic stints of work in the rapidly-expanding San Francisco creative and nascent Los Angeles computing industries, and the search for spiritual fulfilment through marijuana and peyote replaced with a search for connection via MDMA and MDPV (particularly in the coterie which had sprung up around the magnificently bearded, Silenus-like figure of Alexander Shulgin by 1975), but the basic drive to abandon the cities in search of a cleaner, more authentic life was unaltered from that impelling a previous generation of civilizational refugees.
In this environment, with its strange combination of effervescent utopianism and deep societal pessimism, cults and religions flourished unchecked through the 70s; although the vast majority enjoyed brief blossoms at best, confined to whatever immediate circle their prophet had managed to gather, several had adroitly transitioned into mass movements by the end of that decade. Three in particular were significant enough to make genuine inroads into the Northwest Republic on the semi-official opening of its borders with the PSA.
Of these three movements, The Lyman Family was the one which required the least departure from existing beliefs. Mel Lyman, a California-born drifter, session musician and poet, found himself in his early thirties as a semi-detached member of a group in the Mojave united primarily by their shared use of peyote: a series of ecstatic visions in the early 1970s formed the basis for his ministry in the last decade of his life, with followers of his syncretic and charismatic interpretation of Christianity growing from under a dozen in 1973 to a few thousand, scattered across the Pacific coast, by the time of his death in 1978.
Although subject, like most religions of this nature, to fragmentation after its founder’s death, The Lyman Family’s core weathered the storm remarkably well, growing steadily throughout the 80s (assisted tremendously by their wholehearted adoption of what the leadership referred to privately as “flirty fishing” - proselytization to men by attractive women in bars and nightclubs): by the mid 90s, an estimated 40,000 people were involved, at least tangentially, in the Family.
The easing of travel restrictions into Northwest Montana from 1995 onwards provided an opportunity for the Family which its leadership was happy to exploit: although flirty fishing was abandoned in favour of seeking converts via the provision of soup kitchens in the Northwest Montana’s larger urban areas, the Family managed to gain a surprising number of converts in its first year of operation in the Northwest Republic. Given the delicate balance of power between the largely religious factions on the Council of the Northwest Republic, this development was viewed with some alarm in official circles, with an increasing series of crackdowns succeeding in driving most Pacifican members from the Northwest Republic by early 1998. Nevertheless, the Family proved to be an oddly persistent presence in the area, with a few hundred adherents still living in and around Missoula today.
Although scarcely a religion in the same way that The Lyman Family was, the second significant philosophical import to the Northwest Republic drew its inspiration from much the same milieu as had the groups from which the Family emerged, although its genesis was as firmly rooted in the CSA’s last decade as the Family’s had been in the Californian 70s. Theodore Kaczynski’s resignation from Project CyberSyn in 1989, coming as it did during the partial thaw under McNamara, brought no consequences for himself more serious than his unceremonious firing from his old faculty at the University of Chicago. Indeed, he was able to negotiate a severance payment from the Project in exchange for technical non-disclosure which would cover several years of frugal living: allowed to “retire” to a rural cabin in the Grangeland CSR, he spent much of the early 90s working on the book which would propel him firmly into the public eye.
Managerial Society and its Future, released in late 1994, is an uneven but oddly compelling book, which feels far more like two separate documents than an integral whole. Part One, clearly influenced by Project CyberSyn even if it never refers to the CSA's abortive attempt at a real-time command economy be name, is a fairly abtruse mathematical refutation of the idea that an economy can be monitored to the level intended by CyberSyn without subtly distorting it to the extent that meaningful central planning is impossible. Part Two is more interesting by far. Beginning with Kaczynski's iconic statement that “the Managerial Revolution and its consequences have been a disaster for the human race”, it takes as its starting point the observation that from the Neolithic Revolution onwards, the vast majority of people have lived in groupings of a few dozen individuals at most: furthermore, settlements and nomadic bands have tended to splinter once they exceed about a hundred and fifty people, which Kaczynski takes to be the largest number of stable social relationships one person can maintain.
Kaczynski goes on to argue that any organization (be it a polity, a military group or a company) which exceeds this number of individuals comes to rely on an intermediary caste of managers, who gradually alienate all other members of the organization from the organization's central purpose. As the progress of technology allows for larger and larger organizations, individuals in managerial roles become conscious of their status as a distinct class within society, and this organizational hollowing-out is replicated at a societal level. Managerial Society specifically notes the development of the limited-liability joint-stock company in the nineteenth century as creating the conditions allowing for almost indefinite corporate expansion, empowering a class of managers who had managed to subsume the positions of labour and capital by the early twentieth century. Although the book suggests that the Second American Civil War was as much a reaction to this managerialization of society as unbridled capitalism was, the fact that no attempt was made by the Chicago Congress to limit the scale at which society operated meant that a managerial takeover of the ensuing syndicalist economy and of society in general was made inevitable.
In the anti-technocratic atmosphere of the mid-90s, Mangerial Society struck an undoubted chord across a surprisingly broad spectrum of American politicians - Carl Oglesby of the Syndicalist Workers' Party and Pat Buchanan of the National Action Party were both to refer to it on the campaign trail - although the end, in the early 2000s, of the the economic “lost decade” following the collapse of the CSA made books urging a complete reconfiguration of society less compelling. The Northwest Republic, however, proved to be by far the most fertile ground for Managerial Society's enduring popularity. It is unsurprising that, in an area where virtually everyone outside the handful of towns squatted on agricultural and logging collectives of fewer than a hundred people and the collapse of the local economy during the last year of the First Northwest Montana Insurgency had forced a sharp, if brief, technological regression (most farming vehicles had been converted to run off wood gas by the winter of 1994, while draft animals were a common sight), a book attacking mass society and technological advances would strike a chord: for the inhabitants of the Northwest Republic, riven by theological and political disputes, Managerial Society would prove to be the closest thing to a unifying text.
The third offshoot of the Fourth Great Awakening, which would come to intertwine itself almost completely with the Northwest Republic, had as its genesis a chance meeting in San Francisco in the mid-1960s between Anton LaVey (a former carny barker and born showman who had established the Church of Satan, a small esoteric group with a surprising following among elderly film stars) and Michael Aquino, a Military Intelligence officer in his late twenties. Although Aquino, initially captivated by LaVey's creed, became a disciple of the Church of Satan almost immediately, a measure of disappointment at LaVey's contentment with occasional eyebrow-raising stunts and lack of any real ambition for the Church (Aquino was later to describe his time in the Church of Satan as “three years watching stag films with C-list celebrities in a disused chapel”) led to an irrevocable split between the two men, with Aquino founding The Church of the Black Flame in 1972 in direct competition.
Several supposed “leaks” of rituals notwithstanding, the Church of the Black Flame has always maintained an almost impermeable air of secrecy, which has rendered most discussions of their beliefs speculative: from what evidence that has emerged (the occurrence of the terms “pneuma” and “hylic” in CBF materials, the occasional ritual use of Enochian, and the centrality of the Kabbalistic Tree of Life), the CBF appears to have been a reasonably conventional Hermetic organization, with its ritual very much derived from some of the more esoteric Masonic rites and its beliefs an amalgam of Gurdjieff, Mathers and Crowley. Nevertheless, Aquino's undoubted gifts both as organizer and as exponent of his beliefs allowed the CBF to capitalise on the Fourth Great Awakening's upsurge of interest in esoteric theology: recruitment was focused, on the most part, in the PSA's elite university campuses (a majority of Caltech's Department of Chemical Engineering would join the CBF by 1980).
By 1985, Aquino (who had somehow managed to combine leadership of a Hermetic organization with an extremely successful career in military intelligence) was beginning to show signs of the same dissatisfaction that he had felt with the Church of Satan: his announcement in that year that he intended to step back from active management of the CBF, officially because running a cult which numbered more than ten thousand members at its late-80s peak was no longer compatible with his actual career, in reality allowed him the space he needed to develop a further religious-philosophical system with a handful of carefully-selected acolytes within the confines of an existing organization. Accordingly, while leadership of the official CBF passed through a succession of short-term heads (ultimately settling on Californian musician and Tiki bar owner Boyd Rice), Aquino was free to establish an infinitely darker and more extreme sub-cult.
Analysis of the beliefs of this sub-cult is almost entirely based on speculation: it is unlikely that it ever numbered more than eighty or so members, almost all of whom would be dead by 2002, and given their unwillingness to commit anything relating to the sub-cult to paper, almost all of its theory and practice died with them. A very tentative reconstruction of their beliefs (based on snatches of conversation with members) would suggest that its adherents were driven by the vaguely Gnostic desire to sever themselves entirely from all human relationships, laws and limitations; that the sub-cult held that the soul's progress beyond the confines of the physical world created as a prison by the Demiurge would require almost constant physical and mental mortification (in the form of extreme asceticism, sleep deprivation and heyschastic prayer); and that the breach of virtually every human taboo was required to achieve an adherent's necessary distance from society. It is also likely, given the actions of the members, that martyrdom was considered a means of ensuring the soul's liberation.
Any analysis of the sub-cult's ritual praxis is forced to rely almost exclusively on (mostly lurid) rumours originating in those areas of the Northwest Republic with a significant CBF presence. Usage of ketamine and DMT to the point of complete disassociation was almost certainly a regular feature of ritual gatherings: their other activities, which are less certain, potentially ranged as far as ritual child sacrifice in some cases (a 2008 study identifies eighteen unsolved child disappearances in Northwest Montana between 1995 and 1998 for which the sub-cult could potentially hold responsibility).
A dozen adherents had followed Aquino into Northwest Montana as part of the Reconstituted Nauvoo Legion in 1993: more would follow subsequent to the establishment of the Northwest Republic. Although never very numerous, their undoubted value to the Republic's military (their absolute fearlessness in the face of death and their willingness to tolerate almost any hardship in particular) provided a powerful incentive for the Republic's leadership to overlook some of their more unsavoury activities, at least temporarily. With Aquino a constant and useful background presence in the Northwest Republic's governing councils, each faction within the Northwest Republic would have cause to turn to the sub-cult for provisional assistance as Northwest Montana took its first faltering steps as an (admittedly unrecognised) nation.