Somerset Maugham was a spook
Somerset Maugham was well on his way to becoming a doctor when he published a novel and after the first edition sold out in a week, he chucked his career in medicine and became the highest-paid author in England, forging a trail now ruled by J.K. Rowling. It wasn’t until recently that MI6 admitted Somerset was a spook.
While frauds like Mark Passio scare people with complex dogmas constructed out of coincidence, I will reveal the real secrets of brainwashing. Somerset had an agenda and inspired Ian Fleming to create the dashing James Bond, but that’s another story.
Very early in his career, Somerset wrote a book titled The Magician, a thinly-veiled attack on Aleister Crowley, accusing him of ritual murder and other unspeakable acts of black magic. Strange that eventually both these characters would be unmasked as agents of MI6, which leads to the possibility their little mini-war may have been staged all along. Crowley’s sinister reputation was sealed by Somerset’s book. It made Crowley famous, while splitting the world into two factions, one fearing, despising and hating Crowley; the other just wanting to learn his secrets.
After the first World War, there were a lot of PTSD-damaged Americans left behind in Europe seeking healing and many were self-medicating with alcohol, hash and opium. Somerset wrote a highly influential book about these times titled The Razor’s Edge, and that book, like his one on Crowley, left many false impressions that linger today.
When I think of Somerset, I picture him as Herbert Marshal, the English actor who played him in the original 1946 movie. In fact, a new hardback edition of the book was soon published, and it used the two lead actors from the film for the cover. Marshal captured Somerset’s homosexuality in a very understated and elegant manner, although he ignored Somerset’s stuttering problem.
But the book and film actually led people away from enlightenment, while pretending to point them in the right direction.
This is because intoxication is painted as the greatest evil. The protagonist winds up in India seeking enlightenment and is told by a swami to meditate alone in a cave until he reaches some satori moment, after which he returns to Paris an expert in mind control and hypnosis. He winds up trying to stop a friend from medicating herself and when he discovers her in a hash and opium den, gets into a huge fistfight while attempting to remove her from the scene.
Because of this film, millions of young people around the world were led to believe enlightenment could be found on a mountain top in Tibet, and not through sacramental substances.
Which happens to be the reverse of the real situation. Yes, deep meditation can be very useful and may be required to quiet a restless mind, but the magical and medicinal plants are important tools deserving respect. The guru portrayed by Somerset did not really plunge into real enlightenment at all, and was a one-dimensional caricature who paved the way for a parade of charlatans to profiteer off popularizing Eastern philosophies.
Whenever I find an effort to lead people away from cannabis and other medicinal plants, I suspect the forces of propaganda may be at work. Had Somerset really wanted to enlighten people, he would have been explaining how wars were staged for profit and social control, and the prohibition of medicinal plants was just a part of the scam to reap higher profits and construct monopolies.
This is how paradigms are actually forged and how memes are seeded into the mass media by intelligence operations. And the wonderful thing about the Internet is how all this information is gradually being filtered and processed so as to make it harder to conceal such operations in the future.