This book is certainly a classic of sorts; Crowley has spawned a stagnant pond full of imitators, but none will ever match his wit, intelligence, originality and genius for prose writing. By all means, if you're someone who needs a self-image as a person who is seeking enlightenment of some kind but wants to look cool and dangerous doing it, buy this inspired drivel and convince yourself it works, assuming you're one of the few actually dull enough to read it all. Or to try and carry any of this stuff out. The book's primary purpose, of course, is to look good on your bookshelf and impress your friends, if you have any, with what amazing arcane knowledge you have. And yes, you might even get high and play these idiotic Golden Dawn dress-up games and convince yourself you're actually accomplishing something. Of course, if your're interested in real transformation, not drugs, buggery and egomaniacal pretense--Crowley's, and most of his admirers', reasons for existence--then for god's sake stop seeking anything and spend the money you could waste on this thing on some books on Zen or Krishnamurti (yes, the one the arch-jealous Crowley hurled racist insults at) when you need to exercise the verbal parts of your brain. Anyway, this volume will look even more cool and mysterious if you let it gather some dust.