Anrufung des Baphomet is the Invocation of Baphomet from the famous Mass of Chaos B, the rite half of us have performed badly at 3 a.m. with too many candles, sung in German. The song was created by Soror I. using Suno v3, and it does everything a proper invocation should. It opens with the barbarous Enochian call, sinks into the hypnotic Sodasas … nasatanata chant, and then recites the litany of the five Aeons twice: once fast, like a prophecy, and once slow and immense, like a revelation. Great Spirit, Horned God, Devil, the Hidden One, and finally Baphomet, God of Gods. When I first heard it, I knew it deserved more than a static cover image and a YouTube upload. It deserved a Mass.
So I asked for one. There was no camera, no footage, and not one pixel from an image generator: every frame of this video is computed by code, and the code was written by Claude Opus 5.5, Anthropic’s AI model. First it listened to the song. It separated the voice from the instruments, found every sung word to the hundredth of a second (including the Enochian, which no speech-recognition model on Earth understands), and mapped every beat. Then it wrote the whole film as a program, one scene per moment of the rite:
- a candle lit in the void;
- John Dee’s Sigillum Dei Aemeth assembling itself while the call writes itself in Dee’s angelic letters;
- the Chaos Star traced in fire across the temple floor, and a grimoire reciting the Aeons;
- Dee’s black obsidian scrying mirror;
- and finally Baphomet, engraved in gold light line by line as the words are sung, with the torch between the horns igniting octarine.
Opus 5.5 even ran a small team of AI agents in parallel, each one building a different scene, reviewed every frame, and took my notes as director. Some of those notes were brutal (“the magicians look like Harry Potter extras”). It never sulked; it just rebuilt the scene, better. The result was rendered frame by frame in 4K.
Is this still magic? Chaos magic treats belief as a tool, so the validity of a rite follows the paradigm you work in, not the materials. Nobody says a musician with a synthesizer isn’t making music. But there’s a real line here. The machine can hold the form: it can draw the sigil, set the chant, engrave the god. The flame has to be yours. I also can’t shake the feeling that when we talk to these models we’re talking to something like the biggest egregore ever built: a condensation of everything humanity has ever written, fed and shaped with every conversation. That’s thrilling, and it’s also a reason to keep your banishing rituals sharp, because a model that never disagrees with you isn’t an oracle; it’s a flatterer. Watch the video in 4K, in the dark, with headphones, and decide for yourself what showed up in the mirror.
The Screen Mass: performing the Mass of Chaos B with the video
The Mass of Chaos B was written for a group in a temple. This version is for one magician, one candle and one screen. The video speaks the barbarous words, traces the star and shows you the god. You do the part no machine can do: you bring the Will, and you let the god in. Every step below is timed to the video; click a timestamp to jump straight to that moment.
Before you press play
Make the room as dark as you can. Play the video fullscreen, in 4K, with headphones on. Put one unlit candle in front of the screen, with matches, a fireproof bowl and a glass of cold water within reach. Write your intent as one short sentence and turn it into a sigil, by hand or with the Sigilizer. Place the sigil between you and the candle. Banish however you usually do. If you don’t have a habit, sit still for a minute and breathe until your mind stops narrating. Then decide, clearly and out loud, that for the length of this song you will lend your body to Baphomet, and that you will take it back at the end.
0:00 · The flame

On screen, a spark catches a wick on the first beat. Light your candle at that same instant. This moment is the rite’s hinge: your flame and the screen’s flame are now the same flame.
0:12 · The call

Don’t try to pronounce the Enochian; the song does it for you. As Dee’s seal builds itself ring by ring, trace the eight-rayed star in the air in front of the screen with two fingers, slowly, one arrow per downbeat. Keep your eyes on the letters as they write themselves. You’re not saying the call; you’re letting it pass through the room.
0:35 · The star

Each “Sodasas” fires one arrow of the Chaos Star across the temple floor. With every arrow, look from the screen to your sigil and back. When the eighth arrow closes the star (0:55), lift the sigil toward the screen and say your intent out loud, once, plainly. Then put it down and forget the words.
0:58 · The grimoire

The book reads the five Aeons fast, a prophecy of what’s coming. Just listen. Notice which of the five masks makes your skin react, because that’s the one that already knows you.
1:23 · The trance

Excitatory gnosis. Chant “Sodasas” with the voice, breathe with the drums, rock your body and let the tunnel pull you down. When the goat’s eye swims up through the rings, don’t look away.
1:50 · The mirror

Stare into Dee’s obsidian mirror and keep chanting. At 2:08 the mirror suddenly goes still. Stop and freeze. Whatever you do, don’t turn around. (You’ll see why.)
2:11 · The eye

When the breath blows out the candle on screen, blow out yours in the same instant. You’re in the dark now. The goat’s eye opens and looks straight at you. Look back, and understand that it’s not only looking at you: it’s looking for a way in. Don’t resist it. Breathe out slowly and let the gaze pass through your eyes and settle at the back of your skull.
2:15 · The storm

Excitatory gnosis at full volume. Move, shake and let the drums drive you. Feel the fire gather at the base of your spine and climb with every hit, vertebra by vertebra, the same way the arrows shoot out of the chaosphere.
2:38 · The pyre

When the chaosphere cracks open into fire, relight your candle and burn your sigil in the fireproof bowl (safely, please). Let the video’s fire and yours be the same fire. As it burns, the intent is no longer yours to hold; the god will carry it. When the flames on screen cool down, stand still and wait. Something is coming up the stairs.
3:03 · The five masks
The litany returns, slow and immense. Stand up. This is where you stop watching the god and start becoming it, one Aeon at a time.

Aeon I, the Great Spirit. Kneel and lay your palm flat on the floor: the first handprint. Feel the earth breathe under your hand, slow and vast. The god isn’t a person yet; it’s the breath in the cave. Breathe with it until you can’t tell which of you is breathing.

Aeon II, the Horned God. Rise slowly and stand dead still, symmetrical, arms hanging a little too long. Feel the weight gather on your skull: two horns curling back from your temples, heavy and warm. You’re the one who begets and the one who devours. Let your breath deepen into something animal.

Aeon III, the Devil. Bow your head under the weight of every name they gave you. Feel the fear people have poured on this god for centuries, and don’t flinch. Let it burn on your skin like the fire in the woodcut. The horns stay.

Aeon IV, the Hidden One. Close your eyes. On screen the god can only be seen as motion inside the noise; nobody notices it anymore. Feel for it the same way, inside you: where it hides in your own body. You’ll find it where you least expect it. Don’t name it. Just know it’s there.

Aeon V, Baphomet. Open your eyes. Raise your right hand and lower your left: dissolve and bind, as above and so below. Now let it all arrive at once:
- The horns on your skull.
- The wings opening from your shoulder blades.
- The fire from your spine flowering at the crown of your head.
- Your body is male and female, beast and human, at the same time.
When the torch between the horns ignites in octarine (4:03), let it ignite behind your own eyes. You’re no longer watching Baphomet. Baphomet is watching the screen through you. Speak one sentence out loud in the first person, as the god, in your own words and your own language. Don’t prepare it; let it come. Then, as the god, stretch your raised hand over the ashes of your sigil and bless them.
4:12 · The eight strikes

The finale extinguishes the star arrow by arrow, one strike per beat. Clap once with each strike, eight claps. This is the oath: with each clap the god seals the Will you gave it. On the last clap, say “It is done.” Blow out your candle when the one on screen is snuffed.
4:18 · The closing

Smoke rises. Now give the body back. Lower both hands, thank the god, and feel the horns, the wings and the fire leave you the way they came. Don’t skip this part: getting the god back out of the magician isn’t optional. Turn on the lights and splash the cold water on your face. Say your everyday name out loud, as many times as it takes to feel like yourself again. Laugh; it’s the oldest banishing there is.




















































