Andy Crowley Sole Sorcerer of Sanctuary

Hermetic, Gnostic, Neo-Platonist Mystic Treatise as 70s Saturday Morning Cartoon

Lucifer has annexed Hades, the Martian Pharaoh has located the Glass Grimoire, and a sorcerer — rather impossibly — has arisen on magicless Earth.


“Esoteric or inner knowledge is no different from other kinds of knowledge. It is a mystery to the average person in the same way writing is a mystery to a person who has not yet learned to write.”

~ Rudolf Steiner

The neon emerald glow of his aetheric brainmail cast a sickening pea-soup hue against the luminous purple mists of Limbo. His eyes were rolled up into the white of the wizard gaze. Upon his brow, the indigo inferno of his third eye hissed and roared against the winds of Limbo. The pale gold hair of the Feyborn whipped about his grey, grim face.

RUSH: 2112 was emblazoned across the chest of his black and white shirt.

Crouched with his feet set wide, in a Jack Kirby stance, his right right hand was a coiled iron cudgel. His left was splayed open and thrust into the face of the three-headed Fenris of Hades. From their tips, the five Platonic forms blazed their psychedelic hues beyond even the ken of the spectrum of mind.

They pulsed in a verse of colour and light — the Song of Probabilities!  Their power in that moment had been summoned to soothe. And even a raging spawn of the Stygian pit could not resist their allure.

Andy Crowley grinned at the subdued behemoth. Its enormous heads now weaving to the musical light of the floating shapes, all of them, seemed to smile.

Victoriously, he launched himself into Limbo’s amethyst sky.

He did not yet know he would become the mightiest sorcerer reality would ever know.

He did not yet know that his being a sorcerer at all was an affront to the cosmic order of things.

For you see, Andy Crowley was the greatest son of a little world called Earth

… the one place in the entire multiverse where magic wasn’t supposed to work.

It’s 1984.


Read the Andy Crowley Saga!

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