Sex and Rockets

by John Carter

  Rocket scientists have calculated that a velocity of seven miles per second, or approximately 25,000 miles per hour, would be necessary for a rocket to escape the earth's gravity. They further believe that 6,000 tons of fuel would be necessary to carry ten tons of pay load. The California men do not speculate on space travel. However, they do say that their experiments indicate that with a “step” rocket (one having three motors, two of which would be released during flight), a velocity of 11,000 feet per second might be reached. This would carry the rocket to a height of 500,000 feet, five times the record height for a sounding balloon. Physical information gathered by such a rocket would be of incalculable value.

  Meanwhile, the motor behind the sandbags hisses and thrusts and the needles on the dials continue to write their record of vital facts. And another significant step is being taken in man's struggle to conquer space.

  If you will send stamped, self-addressed envelope to our Bureau of Information, you will be given the name and address of the manufacturer of or dealer in any article described in this magazine.

  At this time, Parsons received recognition and accolades not only in the aerospace industry but also in his personal life. One of the people in Parsons’ new esoteric circle of friends was the actress Jane Wolfe, who had appeared in the silent films, The Woman Next Door (1919), Men, Women and Money (1919), and Behold My Wife (1920). Wolfe, who had chosen the magical name Soror Estai, had been with Crowley at Cefalu (his “Abbey of Thelema” in Italy) before coming back to California and the Agape Lodge, when Mussolini closed the Abbey. After her return she does not appear in any of the film guides. Adding to the Parsons’ legend, Wolfe recorded her first impression of him in her “magical record” for December 1940:

  Unknown to me, John Whiteside Parsons, a newcomer, began astral travels. This knowledge decided Regina [Kahl] to undertake similar work. All of which I learned after making my own decision. So the time must be propitious.

  Incidentally, I take Jack Parsons to be the child who “shall behold them all” [i.e., the Mysteries of The Book of the Law. See AL I:54-56, below].

  26 years of age, 6′2″, vital, potentially bisexual at the very least, University of the State of California and Cal Tech., now engaged in Cal Tech chemical laboratories developing “bigger and better” explosives for Uncle Sam. Travels under sealed orders from the government. Writes poetry—”sensuous only,” he says. Lover of music, which he seems to know thoroughly. I see him as the real successor of Therion [Crowley]. Passionate; and has made the vilest analyses result in a species of exaltation after the event. Has had mystical experiences which gave him a sense of equality all round, although he is hierarchical in feeling and in the established order.

  The passage in Crowley's The Book of the Law to which Wolfe refers (AL I:54-56) reads, “Change not as much as the style of a letter; for behold! Thou, o prophet, shalt not behold all these mysteries hidden therein. The child of thy bowels, he shall behold them. Expect him not from the East, nor from the West; for from no expected house cometh that child.” At 26, Parsons was still a “child” in the eyes of the older members, at least in the spiritual sense, regarded by Wolfe as this “chosen one,” so to speak.

  Parsons’ “mystical experiences,” if they were recorded then, have since been lost and are unknown. For sake of comparison to Wolfe's portrayal, Parsons’ FBI file describes him as 6′1″, 185 pounds, with brown hair and brown eyes, medium build, and fair complexion. The remark “potentially bisexual at the very least” may refer to his admitted attraction to Smith, as well as to another unique characteristic: at least two former work associates have said that Parsons sweated profusely, which caused strong body odor that he tried to mask with heavy cologne. A man who wore a lot of cologne at the same time that he displayed an above-average interest in another man may have inadvertently given the impression of bisexuality. Parsons himself once expressed a latent homosexuality, and Aleister Crowley, Parsons’ new idol, was well known for his bisexuality.

  Like many other Agape Lodge members, Wolfe was also in the A∴A∴. Crowley had initiated her at Cefalu as a Probationer 0° = 0 on June 11, 1921, and had further recognized her as a Neophyte 1° = 10 in May 1940, after she had written him to lament her long term as a Probationer.

  Wolfe was not the last to identify Parsons’ potential. After more than a year of attending meetings and the Gnostic Mass, John and Helen Parsons joined the Agape Lodge on February 15, 1941, when they simultaneously joined the A∴A∴. Just a few weeks after they joined, in March 1941, Smith wrote to Crowley, “I think I have at long last a really excellent man, John Parsons. And starting next Tuesday he begins a course of talks with a view to enlarging our scope. He has an excellent mind and much better intellect than myself…John Parsons is going to be valuable.”

  Parsons became “Frater T.O.P.A.N.” and was known as “Frater 210” for short. His wife became “Soror Grimaud.” The initials in Parsons’ magical motto stood for Thelemum Obtentum Procedero Amoris Nuptiae, Latin for “the obtainment of thelema—Will—through the nuptials of love.” The initials T.O.P.A.N. were also a declaration of Parsons’ dedication: To Pan. In Hebrew the enumeration for T.O.P.A.N. is 400 + 70 + 80+ 1 + 50 = 601. Parsons counted it as I.O.P.A.N., giving the more desirable sum 210, with “Io Pan” being Greek for “Hail Pan.” Indeed, Crowley's “Hymn to Pan,” which Parsons had memorized and often recited, begins, “Io Pan! Io Pan Pan!”

  The numbers 1 through 20 add to 210. In the book 777 Crowley also speaks of certain numbers important to each of the sephiroth (spheres) of the kabbalistic Tree of Life. The first has the value 1, the second 1 + 2 = 3, the third 1 + 2 + 3 = 6, and so on; there are 10 altogether. Although Crowley does not say so, a little quick math will show these 10 values add to 210. In 777 Crowley calls the meaning of 210 “too holy” to divulge, an allusion to the “N.O.X. formula.” N.O.X., Latin for “night,” is akin to “L.V.X.” or “Lux”—light. Both are portrayed during simple rituals of Crowley's that came from the Golden Dawn.

  Coincidentally, the interstate highway running through Pasadena which makes a 90-degree turn due north of the beginning of South Orange Grove Ave., heading straight to JPL, is numbered 210, as if some cosmic force numbered the highway in Parsons’ honor.

  Helen's chosen name, Grimaud, is a French name that may refer to a character in one of Lord Bulwer-Lytton's novels who acted as a “magical servitor.” Bulwer-Lytton is probably most famous for having started a novel with the phrase, “It was a dark and stormy night.”

  Eventually, Parsons came to view Smith as the father he always wanted, and the two stayed in touch throughout their lives, despite the many problems between them and with other members of the lodge. While many members of the Agape Lodge drifted apart, Parsons and Smith continually came back to each other, and, although Parsons called Crowley “Father” in his many letters to him, the immediate presence of Smith was much more powerful.

  In addition, Parsons’ interest in science fiction continued into adulthood, and he attended many of the weekly meetings of the Los Angeles Science Fantasy Society (LASFS), which met Thursday evenings. LASFS started as chapter 4 of the Science Fiction League, one of many fan clubs begun in 1934 when Hugo Gernsback's magazine Wonder Stories announced the new program. All closed but chapter 4, which remained a vital concern due to the work of one man—Forrest J. Ackerman. Ackerman has said that he remembers meeting Parsons once, though others insist he must have met him on many occasions. Helen Parsons Smith remembers at least one meeting.

  In 1940, Ackerman's group became the independent LASFS, which, as home base for Los Angeles-area fans and writers, was quite active. JPL archivist John Bluth heard that many science fiction people frequented Parsons’ house, but it was less common for Parsons to go to the LASFS. He was thus probably not a member, just an attendee.

  At one of the Thursday meetings in 1941, Parsons met one of his favorite authors, Jack Williamson, who records this meeting in Wonder's Child, his autobiography. Williamson
had written Darker Than You Think, which first appeared in the magazine Unknown in 1940, and was expanded considerably in 1948 for the book edition. In Wonder's Child, Williamson wrote, “He [Parsons] had read my novel Darker Than You Think, which deals with the supernatural. I was astonished to discover he had a far less skeptical interest in such things than I.” Nonetheless, it was Williamson's favorite story as well, and he identified with the main character, Will Barbee, who is horrified to discover he is really a werewolf, but gradually learns to accept his newfound powers.

  Williamson subsequently went to Parsons’ house for one of the Sunday afternoon meetings of fans and writers that Parsons sponsored every week. He recorded the event in Wonder's Child:

  I met John Parsons. An odd enigma to me, he was a rocket engineer with unexpected leanings toward the occult. He wanted to meet me because I'd written Darker Than You Think—a good many people have taken it more seriously than I ever did; witches now and then have taken me for a fellow Wiccan.

  Parsons belonged to the OTO, an underground order founded, I think, by the satanist Aleister Crowley. One night Cleve Cartmill and I were allowed to climb after him into an attic to attend a secret meeting. The ritual was disappointingly tame. There was no nude virgin on the altar. Satan was not invoked.

  Yet the priest impressed me. He was a lean, dynamic little man with bright, light blue eyes, driven by a virulent hatred of God. Talking to him after the ceremony, I found that he was the son of a British clergyman who must have been the real target of that savage animosity.

  From the above description it sounds as if Williamson got to meet Wilfred Smith.

  Darker Than You Think is the story of hereditary werewolves who have discovered their true bestial nature and seek to revive the old ways and the old gods. They accomplish this revival under the leadership of the “Child of Night,” who is the result of a magical prodigious birth, finding him in the character of Will Barbee. Williamson's first science fiction treatment of werewolves (a novel approach at the time) had been in 1932, when he wrote the short story, “Wolves of Darkness.”

  The connection to Wicca and neo-paganism is obvious, as is the parallel to Parsons’ magical “Babalon Working,” which will be the subject of chapters 7 and 8. Darker Than You Think is even listed under “Religion and Myths” in The Visual Encyclopedia of Science Fiction. Williamson's book evidently influenced Parsons’ writing, such as follows, which sounds like a fair synopsis of Darker Than You Think:

  Edd Cartier's illustration for the 1948 Fantasy Press edition of Darker Than You Think, Jack Williamson's sci-fi novel John Parsons found extraordinarily inspirational.

  To go deep you must reject each phenomenon, each illumination, each ecstasy, going ever downward, until you reach the last avatars of the symbols that are also the racial archetypes.

  In this sacrifice to the abysmal gods is the apotheosis that transmutes them to the beauty and power that is your eternity, and the redemption of mankind.

  Several other authors visited Parsons, including A.E. Van Vogt, as well as regulars like writer Alva Rogers and science fiction illustrator Lou Goldstone. Another possible visitor was E. Hoffman Price, a would-be writer who knew most of the people in the circle of H.P. Lovecraft, the famous fantasy and horror writer, as well as in much of science fiction fandom. Price later bragged of having introduced occult ideas to Lovecraft, whose treatments of Theosophical elements are well documented in his letters to Price, thus revealing that some of the material did indeed originate with the latter.

  Parsons also met a young Ray Bradbury, or, rather, Bradbury met Parsons. As Bradbury told me, “I only met him once, when I was a teenager and he came to lecture at the Los Angeles Science Fantasy Society in the late thirties…I was merely part of a small audience of about 20 or 30 who were fascinated with his ideas about the future.”

  One other person who Parsons met at the LASFS was Grady McMurtry, who later became Frater Hymenaeus Alpha and was Karl Germer's successor as Outer Head of the OTO, running the Order until his death in 1985.

  Much has been made of a connection between Robert Heinlein and Parsons, and it has been said that Heinlein was the first person to whom Parsons introduced his second wife, Cameron. Parsons is also thought to have corresponded with Heinlein after his leaving Hollywood; unfortunately, Mrs. Heinlein destroyed all of her husband's correspondence from the period before they were married. However, Mrs. Heinlein and L. Sprague de Camp have maintained that Heinlein did not know Parsons, although Cameron asserted their meeting occurred and was later covered up. Claims that Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land was influenced by Parsons and thelema are left to the reader's judgement.

  nEW EXPERIMENTS WITH ROCKETS

  John W. Parsons preparing an experimental rocket motor for a test. At the left, gases burning at 3,000 degrees centigrade shoot out of a tiny nozzle. The general view at the far left shows the sandbagged outdoor laboratory that is used by Parsons and his associate, Edward S. Forman

  PROTECTED against deadly explosions by a wall of sandbags and heavy timbers, two young California Institute of Technology scientists feed explosive gases under pressure into the motor of a rocket. At the touch of a button, a leaping spark ignites the mixture, and with a roar, a sheet of flame, and a cloud of smoke, the gases go into action. Operating a camera, one of the researchers photographs a battery of instrument dials that reveal such vital facts as the thrust of the motor and the weight and pressure of the gases surging through pipes from metered chambers.

  But the rocket itself, instead of soaring into the heavens, remains rooted on the ground, since it is anchored in place and pointed earthward. For Edward S. Forman and John W. Parsons, the California rocket researchers, are mainly interested for the present in studying the action of various fuels for stratosphere stabbing rocket ships, and the effect of their intense heat on various types of nozzles.

  This question of rocket-motor nozzles is one of the major problems now facing rocket experimenters. who are constantly devising new improvements and new methods to take the rocket out of the realm of fantasy and into the field of practical use. Booster motors to assist rocket take-offs, gyroscopes to guide flights along straight paths, water-cooled nozzles, range finders to record altitudes and speeds, automatic parachutes that return the rockets safely to earth—these are some of the devices that are now being tested and brought to perfection by laboratory experiments on a dozen fronts.

  North of Roswell, N. M., for instance, rockets wobble skyward from a sixty-foot tower, and then straighten out into a true vertical path, soaring up two miles into the air at a speed of more than 700 miles an hour. At the top of their flight, they hang in air a split second, then tumble over and float gently down to earth as their parachutes automatically belly out. The gyroscopic mechanism that straightens out the initial take-off wabble is a development engineered by Dr. Robert H. Goddard, rocket pioneer. Stabilizing vanes attached to the rocket are automatically controlled by the gases of the exhaust stream, moving the rocket back into line when it wanders ten degrees away from a vertical path.

  By ROBERT E MARTIN

  But actually how close is rocket science to practical exploration of the stratosphere at an altitude of, say, fifty miles? Studies at the California Institute of Technology lead investigators to believe that with the exhaust velocity of 7,000 feet a second obtained by Goddard's rockets, powder rockets could now be built capable of rising 100,000 feet. In fact, under some conditions, they believe a gas-propelled, eighty-five pound rocket, exhausting its burned fuel through a nozzle at the rate of 12,000 feet a second, could rise under power to an altitude of fifty miles, and then continue, “coasting,” straight up for another 175 miles.

  For more than three decades scientists have sought ways to explore the atmosphere at great heights. Today their thoughts are turning to levels where rockets would fly through a vacuum, and celestial observations might be made without interference from city lights, haze, clouds, or air molecules of lower altitudes. One well-kno
wn astronomer even went so far as to suggest the possibility of a complete astronomical observatory, raised a thousand miles above the earth by one set of rocket motors, and maintained at that level by another.

  MEASURING KICK OF ROCKET GAS

  While Forman operates controls that set off the charge in a rocket pointed at the ground, Parsons waits to take pictures of instruments recording the pressure created. Below, carbon lining of rocket motor

  Popular Science, in its September 1940 issue, plays up Parsons, Malina and Forman's explosive experiments in the Arroyo Seco. The magazine's caption mistakenly says that a Caltech photographer is Parsons, and neglects to mention the identity of a lone figure in a white shirt. He's John Parsons.

  Of more immediate practical application is the proposal that rockets take over the duties of heavy artillery in laying down a concentrated bombardment of an intensity not reached even with dive-bombing airplanes and the latest type of field and railway guns. Major James R. Randolph, of the U. S. Army Ordnance Reserve, recently declared that rockets could easily equal the performances of long-range guns firing shells as far as seventy miles.

  These long-range cannon fire a projectile eight inches in diameter. “Instead of firing shots of moderate caliber at long intervals,” said Major Randolph, “a rocket plant could fire the equivalent of twenty-four-inch shells as fast as desired.”

  Projectiles envisaged by this officer would weigh four tons. Thousands of them, set off simultaneously or in volleys, might lay down in a few minutes a withering barrage that present artillery could equal only over a long period of time.

  Armor-piercing rockets, Randolph further proposed, could be carried by submarines, while on land, the rocket shells could be transported in ordinary motor trucks bearing no resemblance to artillery weapons now easily identified by enemy planes.