Becoming Human

Identity, it is what we spend most of the first part of our lives discovering. In certain esoteric schools, we are taught that it is a facade built to interface with the rest of the world. We can choose from a vast library of predefined components, then mix & match them, until we have arrived at the unique “me”. Our perfect little snowflake, the individual personality. Welcome to the “Build-a-Bear” of our human psyche. A literal xerox existence.

We see the same traits manifest throughout all of history. Each occurrence is a slightly less authentic copy of the earlier iterations. Defining ourselves by answering simple multiple choice questions like, “am I a cat person or a dog person?”. We lose ourselves in the madness of mimicry. The very skill that facilitates some of the necessary components of higher learning can act as a trapdoor. Disconnecting from the potential for discovering some type of genuine authenticity. At the same time, losing the sense of completion in our being.

How then do we become whole again? Can we discover the more natural version of “self”? Will we persevere in striking the delicate balance between the primal beastly animal and our divinity of emergent intellectuality? More concisely, can we evolve?

I look to the more traditional times, before the distortion and corruption seeped in, poisoning our collective prana. As a people, we faced the unknown darkness, as it threatened all around us. Emerging from deep within us. These were the days of tempering and trial. The ancient forge of the gods.

There is a sentiment appearing as a catastrophic phenomena. This phenomenon is rampant and spreading like rot does. There is a difficulty in bringing to light the full impact and implications of such atrophy. Atrophy taking a prohibitory form, divorcing the “I’s” within us. Forcing a denial of self, whether be it through law, manufactured morality, or social acceptance. All forms of repression.

In reality, we are biologically an ecosphere. Striking systematic balances on a myriad of delicate vectors. The simplest example of this that I can think of, is the gradual measure of Glycaemia. Where the absence/abundance of glucoses can have substantial consequences. If left unadulterated, one would either adapt or succumb to it. This type of occurrence is multi-tiered, and often simultaneously acting. That is the natural worldly order.

It is in understanding this, that I can experience a kind of empathy. An understanding that nothing is forever, nor has equal chances of survival. It is the nature of this world that we are pitted against the whole. Not just on the external, but most profoundly within ourselves. Most strikingly, we become aware that as time sifts through the hourglass, the distortion magnifies.

Somewhere in our quest towards divinity, we lost touch with our authenticity. What must be undergone to regain this, will require the loss of conceptual superiority. You cannot become the overman when you are barely a man to begin with. Reasoning then distinctly places us with the task of becoming human.

Human, not just in the rediscovery of the lost beast within, but in our socializations. While the rest of the Western civilization is debating on what gender they identify as, we find ourselves questioning what is so corrupt to have brought us to this point.

-TC Downey

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Warlocks

“Walk freely among them. There are none to fear. A Devil veiled in the mist. The Apex.”

No Surrender

Non Servium, I will not serve. No one should ever be forced to take a knee. Not to a man. Not to an army. Not to a state. Not to an ideology. Not to fear.

There are so few that live a worthy life. So there are MANY that are not worthy of living. Bending at the knee for so much. Lacking the backbone and conviction in having consistency of character. Masquerading as free, yet are anything but free.

Slaves to many masters. Bound in so many ways. Slowly ripping apart, being pulled in so many directions. The collective suffering is unfathomably immense. Self-deceit seems like a reasonable coping mechanism, when faced with the overwhelming darkness of what might lurk beyond our control.

We have such a finite sphere of influence. Try to pull the heavens to the earth and be crushed under the weight. Try to raise hell and be scorched by the reckoning of ultimate consumption. It makes sense that we play all these games of distraction, the sheer vastness of possibilities seems overwhelming.

Yet we are alive. Most will continue to be alive. Live deliberately. Be decisive and bold. If you must wear a mask in life, let it be one of your own designs. At all costs, do not surrender this life to mundane pursuits.

The Law of the Jungle

“To reap what is sown, imbues the sovereignty of the law. Do what thou will; this is the whole of the law.”

You have but one true judge and though there are many courts of opinion; it is your conscience that truly holds the gavel. Can you live with it? Will you always be able to do so?

In the Sinister traditions, many look up to David Myatt. Yet few seem to recognize the immense regrets expressed by the man. His rejection of extremism, by itself; stands alone with saturation in personal shame. For those that make the assertion that he wrote under the pseudonym of Anton Long there’s an even more profound insight gleamed.

If you take this as a given. If you dare to make the claim, that Myatt equals Long, then you will be met with a backlash of ludicrous gaslighting guised as calls of “logical fallacy” in a circular argument that cannot be overcome. This is because the argument asks for “primary sources” that were written by an anonymous person. So the goal post is just continuously moved just out of reach.

Think about this for a second though. Why is it so important to keep the charade going? Why is the mysteriousness and anonymity of identity so sacred? To me, it makes sense. Hear me out here. If Myatt has written a heartfelt rejection of extremism and is sincere, then why not make it a full confession and clear the mind?

I can reach only two conclusions; first is the possibility that it really isn’t Myatt at all. Alternatively, this is a tormented man. A man unwilling to let go of perceived infamy and an insincerity to self and others. It suits me better to assume the prior statement, because the latter brings forth a deep empathy and sadness. Imagine that internal war as it’s waging on. Conflicted to see what’s come from the espoused ideology; the battle between ego and conscience eternally wrestling.

So I plea to you, my reader. In a world where all is truly permitted (obviously despite any moral or authoritarian law) be mindful of what you can carry with you. Every action has a reaction and there are worse things than death to consider.

I Die Unvanquished

“There are many forms of death, the easiest is a physical one.”

I despise cowards. In the deepest darkest pit of my gut, they sicken me. They are all cut from the same cloth of contempt. Weak and desperate is their chief features. Let us not conflate cowardliness with fear itself. Fear though mostly diminutive in its positive aspects, at least has the power to be motivating. That is when placed in the context of self-preservation. You can overcome fears, it just takes the right understanding and empowerment to do so.

Cowardliness on the other hand, shows an utterly pathetic and often infectious lack of character. It is often said that, if you don’t stand for something; then you will fall to anything. If you can muster anything resembling dignity; then at least learn to stand for yourself.

The following are two statements, when contrasted a certain quality of character is embued within each of them guess which is which and the notions each embraces:

(a) Rather than surrender to
them; die (if necessary by your own hand) than allow yourself to be dishonourably humiliated by them.

(b) Better to die on your feet, than live on your knees.

Both sound noble and frankly badass, but are they? Statement (b) almost sounds exactly like statement (a)… they are not. The first suggestion implicates a character of weakness that lacks the spirit to overcome and avenge yourself. If the goal is not to be dishonored and humiliated, then why not force them to kill you.

If you must suffer then let your suffering be awe inspiring. Let it be of epic proportioning, that none might say your stature was frail. Dig in so deep and push back without such ferocity that nothing remains.

Should you fall, stand up again. Should you lose, then learn from it. Lose again and again, until you learn how to win. Death is only a defeat, if you succumb willingly to the defeat. Such is the mindset of the bold.

Evil Eye For An Eye

“But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.”

You’ve heard it said that an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth; leaves everyone blind and toothless. This type of platitude leaves a bitter taste, when spoken. It misses the subtle defiance and stark challenge issued to dare it again. It harkens back to a misinterpretation of the words of Jesus.

When I think about this, my mind always plays out a generic trope often used in movies. Where the character is struck and instead of taking the damage dramatically, turns back with a defiance rooted in hatred in their eyes. Dispensing a look that screams out, should you continue to fuck around; you will find out.

One should be deadly and dangerous in character, yet have the strength of mind to discern the appropriate circumstances in which to unleash your fury. Indicating that you’ve measured and standardized where you lay the lines in the sand. Then having signaled that when your barrier is breached; the severity of response will measure tenfold the transgression committed.

In these “modern times” there is a great deal of moralizing, particularly in this respect. We are taught that we should be willingly victimized and then allow the authorities to handle the matter. This never plays out with the necessary consistency warranted.

Too often someone is left with the feeling of injustice. The sort of justice currently administered is artificial and lacking. It ignores the natural worldly order. It makes claims of “blindness” but seldomly offers any semblance of balance.

Which brings me to this final thought here. These institutions that we hold up so high. They are erroneously corrupt and unnatural. Carrying us so far from the world in which we inhabit. We owe nothing to them.

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Initiative 616

The Infernal Wisdom 

One of the benefits of age is the gaining of perspective. Perspective can often reveal the true terror of a situation. When we are too close to something, it’s easy to laser focus on what we like or enjoy about the thing. Gradually as our sights are zooming in, there’s an almost blackness blanketing what is beyond that thing. We’ll lie to ourselves, saying that “nothing is perfect”, and sacrificing this small part is acceptable in trade for this thing. Compromise after compromise is made and still we cling to this thing. Unfortunately, with me, Satanism has been this thing.

Somewhere along the line, Satanism has become a haven for the weak and degenerative. Fostering a culture of “acceptance and tolerance”. A niche clique of cowardly scavengers claiming to champion the predatory. Yes, I am specifically discussing pedophiles and rapists. Sleezy filth not worth the space they take up, let alone the air they breathe. Blatantly ignorant of the most obvious features of the satanic mythology.

Satan chose to make a stand against YHWH after being given a command that he just couldn’t in good conscience follow. He was commanded to love and kneel before mankind. Satan being a entity of pure spirit, saw creatures of flesh as mere animals. They were filthy, fragile, and stupid. At first he simply protested. Stating that he could prove to YHWH that they were unworthy and so YHWH agreed and appointed him to the task. 

Time after time, instance after instance; He pointed out the shortcomings of mankind. Yet nothing persuaded YHWH. Not the whorish seduction and sedition of Eve in the Garden. Nor the continuous desertion of the faithful with every new idol YHWH’s chosen came into contact with. Whole cities would have to be rendered into piles of salt, because man was unable to escape his perversity. Still YHWH held them up and glorified them. 

Satan was clearly bewildered by this. Why then were these talking monkeys placed above his kind? YHWH eventually answered this question by explaining that mankind was made in his likeness. It was at this point, in his infernal wisdom that something clicked. Satan and the host of angels were beings of pure spirit and not of flesh and bone. Not weighed down by the temptations and baser urges of their animal instincts. 

To the body of Angels, they had been made in perfection. Cosmic warriors dedicated to their design and purpose. Mankind was clearly inferior. Yet YHWH has said that they were made in his image. This could only lead to one conclusion, He was also inferior. Thus the rebellion became underway. 

This is a summation of every version of the story that I have ever heard. With it comes a couple of lessons that cannot be ignored. Firstly Satan despises mankind. Viewing us as weak and degenerative. We cling to this perversion of flesh and often further twist it to suit our own ends. Secondly, we will worship and grovel to anything we perceive as “higher” than us. Making gods of even pointless symbolic paper and serving out our lives as slaves to it. Hypocrisy, Cowardliness, Stupidity, and Contemptuousness are rampant like fleas in a neglected kennel. 

LaVey pointed all of this out. Aquino pointed it out also. Anton Long not only pointed to it, but also decided to prey upon it. Honestly, who can blame the man? An easy mark can be the source of laughter for an untold amount of time. 

Now here we stand, LaVey said that Satan demanded study in lieu of worship; yet we see them worship him. Anton Long said to learn to raise yourself above yourself so you can triumph over all, yet we cling to our basic animal instincts. Aquino put forth the notion of “becoming” as Xeper, yet where are all the gods? 

Instead, we find these once promising institutions are littered with degenerates, grifters, and sycophants. These are the ubermensch of Satanic thought? Rubbish… Pure rot. Preying on children, turning on your “kin”, reveling in your filth and surrendering to addiction; these are not signs of strength or enlightenment. They are the hallmarks of the mundane and deplorable. 

There is a point, when a cloth becomes so saturated… It becomes so torn and tattered. So stained, that it cannot be washed a new. This is when you can look and it be so in your face. So blatant and obvious to you, that it can never be as it was. That’s when it’s time to step across the threshold into the new. 

For me, I cannot continue to be held down by what calls itself Satanism today. You can have it. I won’t ask for it back. Watch me though and witness me. You will find that my words and my deeds are  synchronic. I am choosing to step into the infernal wisdom of the New Aeon.

The Terror Beyond

As I cross the barrier; I choose to leave the dead weight of it all behind me. Look abroad and recognize the flies in the fermenting honey. Struggling to free themselves. Trapped because they were drawn to the sweetness of the aroma. Greedy little myopically minded pestilence. 

How then can I transcend? If my Will is to truly evolve and reach towards the pinnacle of my potentials, then what process do I undergo? Since I can reasonably assess that what I am talking about is creation. I will use art as an analogous process for consideration. Since I have experience in the Art of Tattoos that will be my method of discussion. 

When I worked in the industry, each tattoo was to me deeply personal. They are personal for the person choosing to get it and personal to me as a creator. In my mind, the process begins before the customer walks through the door. They have spent hours and hours looking through a sea of images posted online. They maybe have just an idea of what they want. Maybe they are dead set on what they want and where. 

The moment they open the door to the shop the magic begins. In a perfect world, the artist that comes out is in perfect alignment with the customers vision. Most of the time though, a rapport has to be built between the artist and the customer. As they talk about the idea, they begin to build a harmonic resonance. Eventually, they should reach a point of melody between the two. There are times when the two just can’t come together. When that happens, it’s best to call it and both go on to find that resonance elsewhere. 

What does it look like when they are able to build that harmony? The artist and the recipient come to a distinctly clear envisioning of it. They agree on the content and style. Both in unison of the placement and size. The creator has taken care to explain the process and given instructions on preparation. A commitment is made to the time of commencement. The recipient prepares with obedience and carefully carries out the preparations. Ensuring the proper compensation is in order. 

As the time of the procedure begins, the artist sees to the final arrangements. It should be universally understood that this is different from other forms of art. This is also why, I have chosen this analogy. This process is uncomfortable and possibly even painful for the creator and of course for the recipient. When it’s done both will bear the fruits of it permanently. Both will be transformed through this. 

The working surfaces are cleansed and protected. The station is assembled and skin is freshly shaved. The stencil is put down. Then there is a moment. As the client makes absolutely certain through the now easier visualization that they are ready to commit. At the same moment, the artist is going through the final checklist in their head. Simultaneously also envisioning through the visualization; they to are ready to commit. Now the work is about to be underway. 

This is a terrifying moment for the aware. The artist knows to anticipate complications. The question is are there any they might not be able to overcome. They’ve trained hard for this. Still only fools believe that there are no limits. Equipment failure, adverse reactions, and unforeseeables are an every event possibility. All seems firmly under your control. Those first few fractions of a sec are sort of a leap of faith and as they pass confidence quickly builds. 

It is here, mired in pigments and plasma. Here, in adrenaline and uncomfortable pain. It is here that creations are born. This is where it is ALL ALIVE. Complete with the perfumes of green soap and ointment. There is nothing to do but find the harmony that brings all of this to the beyond. 

The Harmony of the House

Religion used to be the lynchpin of any given community. The shared common beliefs and values provided a guideline of taboos which offered governance without having to enact hard draconian laws. After all, mistakes happen and over time what is acceptable morphs into new taboos. This is useful to any closely knit community. 

In medieval times, the governance of a community was left in the capable hands of noblemen to protect and in exchange oversee. This often led to hardship and oppression for the people of that land. This was often the result of greed and hypocrisy with a heavy emphasis on a perceived, but unearned, superiority of the patriarch.  Occasionally though, a great House would arise.

 The metaphorical “captain at the helm” understood  that there had to be a uniformity of code, ethics, honor, and virtue between the House and it’s lands. That men, no matter their status, needed purpose and prosperity within and throughout the land. These Houses culminated into things of legend. Particularly if they rose up in military prowess. 

We see something of a similar effect play out in every version of a feudal system. We see that when the Head of the House is principled and truly responsible for his charge; he can govern with generosity and severity. Understanding the nuances and power of taboos and kinship often using them as precision tools. Rather than relying on brute force alone. This demonstrates the strength and embrace of belonging. 

Creating a feeling of extended family and providing a worthy basis of purpose in union. The Noble Lord was seen as a father figure or an elder brother to all. Those employed beneath him operated in harmony and reflection of his desire to protect and aggrandize his House, Lands, and Kinfolk. Thus legends like “Camelot” were born and then romanticized in tale. 

The House of Iconoclasts

It was sometime in the year 2003 that I first began to consider creating a Noble House like that which I just described. I had begun to notice a vacuum forming in communal experiences. It was an obvious disconnection of people. A number of people being absent the sense of belonging and purpose. Having nothing to build a sense of pride in. 

Regardless of the “official narrative” which propagates the lie that tribalism is somehow detrimental and rooted in hateful ignorance. I began to recognize that in truth it was rooted in heritage and patriotism. It became apparent that these “acts of violence” were mostly misguided attempts to defend what the actors felt was worth protecting. Their cultures and customs. That impulse was accelerated by a disproportionate hypocrisy of sanctioning of one kind of cultural pride while simultaneously demonizing another. 

All forms of cultural pride have an equal right to exist. But all cultures are not capable of existing in close proximity to one another. Thus in a very human way, there are feudal conflicts. By in large, we as a species (particularly here in the West) are in denial of our nature as animals. We believe because we have complex systems of communication and living that we are somehow no longer simply an animal. 

We hold up this image of self as a higher lifeform. Though we may recognize that we have a capacity for both compassion and violence, our collective solution has been the reprehension of anything that could lead to violence. This is inspite of the celebrated works of Carl Jung and specifically his call for the recognition and integration of the “shadow self”. This is also in the face of growing supporting evidence that unmitigated repression of the impulse only results in an “acting out” and often violently. 

It became so apparent to me that this “system” or institution, in which, we are expected to live by and exalt is a sham. It’s a fallacious and corrosive one at that. Tribalism and War are deeply ingrained facets of what’s been deemed the human condition. Attempts to deny them or to simply supress them cannot make the situation better. Only worsen the qualitative experiences in life.

To make matters more concerning, not only is the traditional small community (read that as clan/tribe/extended family) eroded, but nowadays the core family is all but gone. Leaving sons and daughters without fathers and sometimes without mothers. Thus the entire breakdown of what has been deemed traditional is well underway.

My good friend has a saying that he repeats pretty regularly and because it is true, it’s warranted. He says “You can’t unscramble eggs”. You simply cannot repair the utterly broken. This is true of the “system” and this is true of the traditional family in my opinion.

There comes a time when the sacred cow is so old and feeble that it no longer produces milk or offspring. It can barely wander the fields and graze. The ranch hands must give more attention and resources to it. The veterinarians cannot mend it any further. Clearly, the merciful thing is to slaughter the sacred cow. 

The Sacrifice of Sacred Cows

It is here, at the Altar of Mars, that the Warlock is born. Before him was a shattered husk that called himself “man”. Through his breaking of oaths and tearing down of cherished institutions; he is renewed. An empty cup waiting to be filled. This time with an intentionally chosen elixir, the blood of his offerings. 

Where before his caste was decided for him. Before his occupation was chosen by what was available to him. Before he had only the family he came into and descended from him. His faith and beliefs were selected for or more likely indoctrinated in him. His limits seemed set in stone.

He, Son of Mars, now a powerful Warlock raises his blade to the stars. He will feel the warmth of the sacrifical blood running down his arm and know the freedom that he seized. He, Son of The Dread Mother, now reborn into this world takes the unspoken oath. Finds himself with a worthy heritage and new bloodline. 

Kinsmen, once again will mean something. Honour and Strength amongst it’s charter. Character and Purpose, tested and revealed. The soil beneath his feet and landscape are unveiled to be his true home. Erected upon it or most likely grown from it; The House of Iconoclasts. It’s embrace is reserved for these children of Mars.


With all of this said, I break my final oath and reject my final institution. Those who are willing to stand beside me and look to me for what it means to be a Warlock and an Iconoclast, let me point to you the way. Should you embrace me, then I will embrace you. Welcoming you into the Great House.

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Divestment

When I was involved in various organizations, one of my many responsibilities was being tasked at overseeing recruitment. However, when starting an organization from scratch, the methods of recruitment and retaining prospective members are entirely different from one with a deep history and roots.

An organization with a long history is appealing to prospective members mainly by status and aesthetic alone. An organization without such status and history has to cultivate it from nothing. Since I’ve always been in male membership only organizations, one such influence on recruitment was the potential access to Women. Women are a powerful asset for any organization. While at the same time being it’s greatest liability. Like a fire, it can keep you warm or engulf everything you love and build in flames.

Another attraction point is aesthetic. How you look is just as important as how strong you are. Incongruence conveys falsehood. If you want to convey strength yet you are weak, frail or obese, an overwhelming feeling of hypocrisy followed by ridicule will surely follow. Uniformity breeds Militancy. Having a standard of uniform weakness will attract the like.

Investment. Even the smallest investment in something creates attachment. The most valuable investment is Time. The greater the investment, the higher the retention. When someone is invested in something they will protect it. Sacrifice is synonymous with Investment.

The purpose of aesthetic, investment and retention is circular. But what drives this circular movement is a conversion experience. I’ve found the best conversion experience is built on pressure testing. An example. A uniform aesthetic of membership creates an us and them culture. A prospective member wants to bridge the gap from being one of them to being one of you. This can be expressed through clothing and language. Clothing that the in crowd can wear but the outsider cannot. Language that the in crowd can use but the outsider cannot. Information and relationships that the insider can have access to but the outsider cannot. People like people who are like them. And people tend to not like people who are not like them.

Pressure testing can take the form of a difficult task. A task that will test the character of a person. A task that if accomplished will reflect the traits of a member of the organization. This task can be modified and suited to a particular individual. For instance if someone struggles with confrontation, then you will place them in direct confrontation for the betterment of the organization. If someone struggles with patience, task them with something that will test their patience to the extreme. If the task is completed, an overcoming is accomplished. And the result?

The result is bringing them inside the organization, giving them access. And if this process is long enough, tribulated enough, guided and punished for their failures and praised for their successes, they will be made in your organization’s image. They will look like you, think like you, and respond just like you. They will fight to defend you. They will invest in you. And above all they will sacrifice for all of you.

However, Divestment is the reverse cycle, a cycle of destruction when applied to the former. To be incongruent, to highlight the contradictions, to “do as I say and not as I do” is a sure fire way to destroy any organization. Divestment is for the outsiders, the alien world. I have seen organizations, religions, cults and clubs rise and fall over the past decades. One thing remains true, people need someone to look up to. Someone that embodies that esprit de corps. That person cannot be declared or appointed, they have to be chosen.

~Dread Zod

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The Forge of Doubt

The current trend in Western culture is one that raises up individuality and uniqueness. It seems like everyone is chasing attractiveness and status. There are millions and millions of would-be social influencers. As stand alone statements or even when considering them together as a whole concept, these are things that should be applauded and encouraged. Yet, I can’t help but make note of the lack of consistency and the obvious facades.

A close friend of mine, regularly points to this phenomenon and scowls at it. He’s right to do so. The only flaw that I can find in his analysis, isn’t really an argument against his disgust. You see, I agree with him that the internet is where people go to pretend to be anyone they want. The flaw is that he has limited the scope of his judgement too narrowly. Turns out people are fraudulent by-in-large.

This is not to say, that there aren’t genuine people. I think some genuine people can at times, find themselves being disingenuous. This isn’t really any shocking new observation. However, this is a form of corruption. A corruption that seems to seep deeper and deeper into the collective consciousness. It is not anything new or novel that this “fakeness” is prevalent in the masses. We’ve simply added a few new layers on top of it.

When I consider this in contrast, I’m not surprised to find this rampantly existing, even in self-professed satanists. The internet removes a layer of accountability. Accountability is an idea that has long been eroding and rotting. Anton LaVey was writing about it in the 60’s. Accountability is often framed to be “an owning of your wrong doing”, but that doesn’t really seem to encompass its proper apprehension. What is really being put forth is, an honesty to self. A personal sincerity, void of delusions without intention.

When I was young, I often pondered the stark consistency of LaVey’s philosophy and his character. Old Howie’s detractors often point to all of LaVey’s lavish deceptions. From plagiarism to the embellished and sometimes completely fictitious stories of his past. Certainly there’s no accountability, right? I have to disagree. I find it completely consistent.

A man with a fake name. Telling embellished or possibly false stories. Pushing a meant-to-be sensational “religion” of the secular and rebellious. Charging a membership fee for a “church” against all churches. All while grifting the grifters. Watching those old videos of ritual and ceremony and even the many television interviews, there can be seen a twinkle in the corner of his eye. After all, the devil is a gentlemen, in the words of Shakespeare.

You can see it, simply by observing. There’s a consistency in him. A playful deviance, if you will. A harmony between word and deed. Should he be a liar, then let his lies be bold and outlandish. We then find an inner-resonance of self honesty to balance against it. With the mind of Lucifer, a carefully crafted deception was made to inspire doubt.

LaVey was a proponent of doubt as being paramount to truth. Doubt, the emancipator of minds, bearing the sword of unbridled wisdom. If this is a war for the eternal souls of men, then doubt is the great equalizer. A great many will ask themselves, “Is this a hill worth dying on”.

We are left in contemplation. Are we pretending or is this truly who we are. Is there a consistency between our words and deeds? We realize that, no matter how fortified the castle is; if it’s built on a mountain of sand, it takes but a wave to wash it from the shore.

Live Deliberately!

-Dread Beast Xeno

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Turnskin by Ariadne and Kristos 513

‘Pharaoh is the Bull of the Sky,
who shatters at will,
who lives on the being of every god,
who eats their entrails,
even of those who come with their bodies
full of magic from the Island of Flame’

The Cannibal Hymns of Unas, Utterance 273

Predation upon other organisms for sustenance is not at all uncommon, a harmonious act of violence which facilitates evolution by weeding out those who are unfit to survive, while also ensuring the continued existence and reproduction of those specimens who, by practical demonstration of their ability, have earned the right to survive. The prey organism is typically of a different species, however, this is not always the case, and there are many naturally-occurring instances of cannibalism, such as with the genus of jumping spider known as Portia, which preys on both web-building spiders and its own males after copulation. Portia, despite its diminutive size, shows complex social behaviours and a sort of intelligence one might expect of much larger predators, using particularly devious tactics to lure its prey – other spiders typically several times its own size – into vulnerable positions. Preying on one’s own kind is far from exclusive to the delightfully sinister Portia, and the apes which we share common ancestry with have been observed to carry out very similar acts, albeit in very dissimilar contexts, such as the consumption of infants or, particularly in the case of chimpanzees, the eating of young snatched from other families in very deliberate acts of primal warfare – a precursor to the tribalism they will no doubt later develop.

Humans, for all their moral posturing and delusions of separation from the horrors of the natural world, are not exempt from the above, as both history and its psychic shadow of mythology are rife with instances of cannibalism – the subconscious traces of a ghoulish racial memory, one which is alive and well in the dark corners of the earth, and even within the boundaries of ‘civilised’ society, the forbidden act of consuming human flesh is not unheard of.

Early humans displayed cannibalistic tendencies for largely the same reasons as their ape cousins did – sheer practical need. A body no doubt lure predators to the rest of the tribe, and so it stands to reason that the best and most efficient way to dispose of the material was to eat it, which just so happened to address matters of nutrition as well. While a human body might not be the most ideal source of nutrition, it was remarkably accessible besides, as defending one’s area from invaders would no doubt result in a surplus of freshly killed meat lying about. Furthermore, hunting larger prey is dangerous if done by a group and near-suicidal if done alone, many animals taking quite a bit of abuse from primitive tools before going down, and not before injuring a member of the hunting party or two. A person, however, could be inncapacitied with comparatively little work – a rock in the temple, for example – and yield a sufficient return besides. This type of primitive efficiency is seen in the modern day as well, as various tribes of Papua New Guinea (including the infamous Asmat, who supposedly killed and ate Nelson Rockefeller), Africa, and throughout the Pacific islands.

As human societies grew more complex, evolving from the most rudimentary kinds of proto-culture to something more recognisable, the exact reasons for acts of cannibalism grew more abstract, as there was no longer as immediate a need to capitalise on any and all opportunities to eat, nor was there as much of a need to avoid luring predators with corpses. Many of the tribal cultures still practicing cannibalism do so for magical-religious reasons, such as to take on the power and attributes of a foe – the African warlord humourously known as ‘General Butt-Naked’ is said to have partaken in cannibalism for precisely these reasons! Another good example of post-primitive cannibalism for spiritual reasons more than practical is the practice of the Indian Aghori sect, a Shaivite tradition which has become infamous for its rather morbid rites, including eating the flesh of the recently deceased. However, unlike previously mentioned examples, they do not kill or harm anyone for their strange communion, and such practices are intended for them to truly know God – after all, how can one say they love and respect creation if they only accept the parts which are pleasing to the senses? Are not the deathly and grotesque also a part of nature, and the rot which feeds life? Furthermore, exposure to such unpleasant stimuli takes no small amount of willpower to override a feeling of revulsion towards the act, and it is through willingly taking part in difficult practices, such as eating the recently deceased, that they develop a state of absolute domination over the lesser parts of themselves which might feel fear or disgust.

Almost as if the practice of devouring one another is hard-coded into human nature, cannibalistic acts are not limited to the carnal and fleshy. Ideas are subject to being preyed upon in this way, the growth of mythos rarely, if ever, being a spontaneous phenomenon. As cultures interact with both each other and themselves, their various memes undergo changes to reflect the very real movement of people. Most immediately relatable in a broader Sinister context is the way in which folk European traditions were adapted as the region underwent its conversion to Nazarene practices. Instead of merely erasing the native ways and mythos of a given area, they were instead devoured by the Christian organism and thus, made part of it in such a way as to strengthen the organism and help it to adapt to its environment. This is seen in the transmutation of local deities and spirits from mostly benign entities to ghouls, devils, and evil things which snatch away children and livestock. For example, the Devil in modern popular culture is often shown with decidedly goat-like features in the form of cloven hooves and horns, while also possessing very carnal appetites and a certain mischievous inclination. Imagery of the Devil as an anthropomorphic goat-man is not canonical to any sect of Christianity, and is rather the product of demonising, quite literally, the ancient god Cernunnos, who was worshiped by the Celtic peoples, and similarly, the Fauns, Satyrs, and their lord Pan, who were part of the Hellenic cultures to the southeast. Both Cernunnos and Pan shared a similar horned man-beast appearance, as well as their considerable hunger for all manner of sensual gratification – quite possibly the most literal, archetypal depiction of that which is considered ‘Pagan’ – and so the deities previously revered by a people were ‘cannibalised’ as they transitioned from the old ways to their regional flavour of Christianity. Other folk deities across Europe underwent a similar process, such as the north’s Allfather Odin, who formed the basis for the modern archetypal witch, and also from the north, the underworld place of the dead known as Hel, whose later inclusion in Nazarene mythos is obvious. It was not an outside force that endeavoured to suppress old-world traditions in this way either, but elements within each of the cultures, those who swallowed up their own gods, regurgitating them as the politically necessary devils of a new religious form. As cultures shift into new paradigms, their old ways are consumed, and absorbed into the younger, thus contributing to its growth – not unlike young spiders devouring their mother after birth.

Just as humans prey on their own mythos to create new ones, the mythos themselves also feature instances of people being killed for the purpose of being eaten. In the Greek tale of King Lycaon, for example, the titular king makes a rather foolish attempt at testing Zeus. Lycaon secretly murdered his own son, and then prepared him as a meal for Zeus. Outraged, whether at the moral bankruptcy of the act or the insult to his divine intelligence, or both, Zeus turned Lycaon into a wolf-man as punishment. This story has both literal and symbolic components, as the Greeks found themselves utterly revolted by the savage religious practices of their neighbors, which supposedly included cannibalism, and so their disgust was reflected in their own mythos as a reflection of their societal values. In addition, one of the themes of many Greek myths is that of arrogance. That Zeus chose to react to this one instance implies it was the specific action of a mortal daring to test him which drew his ire, as the practice had obviously predated the Greeks and indeed all of civilisation – where then are the other Lycaonians?

Another instance of like-devouring-like, this time in Latin, involves the figure of Eumolpus within the Satyricon. Unlike the Greek tale of Lycaon, the cannibalism of Eumolpus was not an act of mortal hubris, but one of necessity for financial gain. Eumolpus is an unextraordinary poet posing as a wealthy individual in order to exploit those who might proverbially bend over backwards in order to gain his inheritance, and indeed, all manner of fawning candidates went to great lengths to appease him. Unable to keep up the ruse, Eumolpus has his will read to the gathered ‘inheritors’, which proclaims that, in order to receive any ‘inheritance’ they must eat his dead body in public. Naturally, the condition of being required to eat Eumolpus’ dead body was intended to ward off those who expected what could not be provided, but it also speaks to the mindset of those who would seek out in some way the legacy of their forebears, as they put on all manner of disingenuous fronts and superficial displays in a shallow attempt at courting approval and thus, assurances of inheritance – and the post-mortem division of assets and legacies does indeed resemble the butchery of a carcass, often done ravenously, as though the inheritors were tearing the corpse apart in the street and swallowing great fistfuls of viscera.

How curiously do we come full circle.

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Off Topic and On Balance

I call for you, yet you cannot be named. I study you, though I can never truly know all of you. You’re abrasive and uncompromising, that’s simply a part of your gentle nature. Just as everything has gone completely wrong, I find myself thinking I have finally got it right.

Looking around we are a collective of individuals. Celebrating our distinction with the latest trending accessories. There is a mundane comfort found in the conflict of polar extremes. One can simply xerox whatever originality we think makes us unique.

I struggle to understand the purpose of the denial of this life; bartering it to embrace an unseen next. Is this manifestation of delusion caused by the inevitable strife endured by unsuspecting victims or an over-indulgence of fetish by the listless predator? What I find is a lack of spirit within the self-professed spiritual. An article of faith being propagated by the unfaithful. The deeply self-absorbed evangelizing a message of goodwill and selflessness.

So delicate is the harsh measurement taken of equilibrium. It is by design that chaos becomes the unanticipated order. Is it expected that those who preach the overman are often underachievers? Why do so many empty words seem to hold such tremendous weight? When does a hollow idol fill the cathedral with such nurture for the soul?

The fulcrum seems so exceedingly undecided, yet I know; tis affixed in it’s place. With no gold standard to follow, what value is offered seems to quickly fade. Without the integrity of character, words like “on my honor” are only spoken in lip-service. Thus a teacher without a curriculum to instruct.

In Her Beauty,

T.C. Downey

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Lost in the Storm

Just past the horizon, the pressure is building up. It moves from a state of calm into a symphony of rage and transformation. It seems like, this always happens when it approaches the point of being overwhelmed. As things get heavier and heavier, they also grow darker and more volatile. The motion sets in, and it begins its path towards relief. Soon its inner parts will begin crashing about. As it begs for easement, it’s motion gains velocity.

This however only serves to continue the buildup. Approaching the boiling point, the violence increases exponentially. Finding itself not in agreement with its own state, it begins targeting the grounds which have previously served to stabilize it. The polarization leads to a spectacle of dazzling fury and wrath. Burning and breaking everything between.

All of this energy is tremendous, yet impossible to maintain. Having reached its saturation point, the drops begin to fall. They fall with the same intensity of the buildup that led to this point. Down to that which has always grounded them. That of which, just moments ago was the focus of ferocity.

Most of the time, these stable grounds can simply absorb and remain unchanged through this. In a way, it has been cleansed also. What is between them now smelling and feeling freshly revived. There are these instances in which nothing remains the same. It is forever changed. Scarred.

There will always be a bond between them though. It is the nature of Her Will. Those scars serve to build character and in time help them both take a new shape. What was once lost in the Storm, now has found itself with a new fingerprint. A powerful and moving transformation.

At Her Will,
T.C. Downey

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