WHAT GOD WANTS YOU TO DO WITH THY WOMAN part 1.

And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions: Joel 2-28
Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.-Genesis 2-24 (if a man join with one of and become the same flesh, then the man already filled and born in sin hath accrued greater sin indeed by cleaving to the woman-A-Man) The man accursed is now yet more accursed, is he not?

If the woman was created of goodness of God then she was corrupted by the Devil therein after. And original sin came into being. This is how it was. It was not the will of thy God but the vile greedy temptations of woman. From the beginning she wanted more...she always has and forever until that day, always will. Woman is the handmaiden of the Evil One, thus, she bears his children for;
(Psalm 51:5) "Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, And in sin my mother conceived me." (Clearly, the mother conceived or brought forth the man in iniquity. He had no choice and as we see there is only one way to be freed from this female iniquity, below.

Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Women are not noble creatures, in fact they are the epitome of the ignoble born of sin and the progenitors of original sin from that moment in the garden of Eden. I ask, why was it not Adam that Satan tempted verses Eve. And therefore I say he (Satan knew) from the beginning which of God's creations were the most vile and corruptible.

I have concluded that the woman's sole purpose beyond their utilitarian purpose of carrying the young in their wombs for procreation have one agenda. To first corrupt the child they bare through control, cruelty, power, possession and through punishments. Whether they be abuse, physical or emotional, withholding love and classically conditioning the child with this instrument, eg. Love and acceptance cultivating and garnering the child's pliable mind to become so needy of this that the male child becomes addicted. He becomes addicted to the female. Perhaps not his role model nor his earthly Saviour but that which he needs in formative years for sustenance and survival as the primary care giver.

Now G-Man, the man child seeks as per nature the female, but he cannot seek one of the very few noble ones, he seeks she who is ignoble and corrupt in nature and is drawn to her wiles as the moth to the flame. While the false sense of having emotional needs met by her such as love and affection are such as the carnival barkers draw, it is the intercourse that is the flypaper to which the weak flesh cleaves. For we were weak before cleaving to our wretched mothers and we knew not any better, thus, we know not better with another female (not our mothers who birthed us in iniquity.)

We cannot be the patriarch for society has revoked that privilege and rightful place of the man. Should we exercise any patriarchal authority it is scoffed at, refused and soon relegated to us (men) being overbearing and abusive. The original iniquity has not left the woman for she wants us to join her and drag us down into her innate dancing with the Devil, of which in awareness she lacks, but does not dismiss that she displays all the actions and utilizes all the wiles, controls by sex, emotional neediness we have and craving for her physical touch. We are captured and thus we begin a spiral towards the dismal abyss of the hell she is from birth imbued with to exercise upon us.

We are young not yet with any wisdom and we allow it. We may find her reviling and horrid and even leave, but the draw of her Satan spell beckons us back. Eventually we in fact, do hate and loathe this creature but find ourselves powerless to break away and seek knowledge and the wisdom of God. In the meantime if our mothers are still living we have all those unresolved issues that must but cannot be resolved or dealt with. Often we know something is wrong but do not know what it is or from whence it is coming. In reality, it is the Devil spawn of our own mothers that in an undiscovered subliminal, disguised manner keep our emotions in turmoil-and we are ignorant thereof and know not. Even the bible tells us to love thy mother and father. But does it? (Psalm 58:3) "The wicked are estranged from the womb; These who speak lies go astray from birth." God was clear to Moses: Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you. God said to love-no, he said to “Honor” let us see what honor means in the common vernacular.

Honor: 1. Esteem due or paid to worth; high estimation; respect; consideration; reverence; veneration; manifestation of respect or reverence.
That which rightfully attracts esteem, respect, or consideration; self-respect; dignity; courage; fidelity; especially, excellence of character; high moral worth; virtue; nobleness; specif., in men, integrity; uprightness; trustworthiness; in women, purity; chastity.
A nice sense of what is right, just, and true, with course of life correspondent thereto; strict conformity to the duty imposed by conscience, position, or privilege.
The vernacular, the lexicon? Is honor love? Does honor mean love? In our first definition we see this; “Esteem due or paid worth” In our second do we not see, “That which rightfully attracts esteem, respect, or consideration; Thus God must have surely meant what he said, Honor. But is not “Honor and or Respect” Earned and not merely bestowed? How can we pay homage or honor to those who have not earned it?

God being omniscient knew this all the time, and most never bothered to seek God and educate themselves enough to ascertain God's knowledge. We in essence, cannot pay our Parents or here our mother any more Honor than she has earned. And I ask; What if she has throughout our lives earned none? Shall we then honor her in defiance of God's commandment?

Ah, so, then can we agree that men confuse honor with love and do not find them at all interchangeable but merely confuse honor for love in the beginning and thus a life is predicated on a false premise as is the concept of love confused for honor? And thus love rules it wins it becomes the subject and the predicate, the noun and the verb for our life script as a logical fallacy.

Mother wants and demands love, guilt is expressed and implied and we buy into the subsequent guilt and therefore, love, we make love from nothing and believe it actually exist and carry it as an imaginary figment until we learn the difference, if ever.

Men seek love and to be loved in return from women beyond the mother. But how is it possible to seek what you are in ignorance of in totality? So I here conclude we seek flesh and the pleasure thereof, emotional support and attachment, physical touch and how that coalesces with other facets of our seeking, urges and desires. In the end, which does not take long in each case of what may be many, we in fact merely and only seek flesh based on a false premise of seeking love, thinking we found it, and finding that we have not found anything close to what we imagine it should be. We lack clarity and definition. The entire syntax askew. How then can this illusive unknown make us whole wherein we find peace and satisfaction?

Women are also of course, born of woman. Yet they are innately endowed with the demon seed that was planted in Eve by Satan in the garden. Most get treated with more respect and specialness as they grow. They come to believe they are special, and that, their mammary glands and vagina's are something precious. In a way, for Satan they are, the are the canal from which woman is hatched only to beget us males who in a subliminal way live under their tyranny.
For I say to you what good can come from evil? God forbid, none can come therefrom. Yet we all are born of woman and thus must repent be baptized, be saved and remain in prayer and constant supplication from these evil creatures. It as the apostle Paul said, (Women like calling him homosexual because he “had their number so they trash him—They are wicked and sinful, woman.) It is better not to have a woman for how can one do Gods work with one in his life?

However, Rejoice! Woman can repent, be baptized and become the Nobel female, but they are rare as hen's teeth. It is this kind of woman that a man should breed with, this Nobel woman could bear him children that we of course born in Sin, but...would easily and hopefully find their way to God much more likely then children born of the Evil spawn of Eve who never repented, who never will, who will become atheist and the whores of Babylon throughout their wicked, wretched lives tormenting men and leading them to hell.

Man, Gods first creation hath God within him, whereas Eve was created from a rib, of man. God did not make a mistake, it was that, woman having been created of only a tiny part of man was not fit or suited to serve God, and thus was easily tempted by Satan in the garden. From the beginning my children, woman was evil and wicked and a worker of iniquity. She works her treacherous wiles of iniquity in being a temptress for thy man who is weak for his own flesh and even more weak to imbibe in hers for earthly temporal pleasures.

Men often ask me, Dr. Misog, what of thy children and procreation of our species and the furtherance of mankind to serve thy God. I answer that a man should diligently seek a woman who has repented and is repentant for being woman, thus making her noble to bear a man's children. To breed with or lie with the whore of Babylon is the undoing and destruction of a man. If a man should lie with enough of the whores of Babylon, God, thy holy God shall give him over to a reprobate mind and he shall never enter the Kingdom. I say unto to you; if you lay with swine enough, you shall become as swine yourself.

I say unto you, woman should wear a cover herself, and yes, even her face cloaked so that no part of her wretched vile flesh shows. Yet she should be allowed to see through her garment, and take it down in secret to take food and drink. When a man lie with the Nobel woman he should do so only for procreation of mankind. A garment should attire thy female so only the genitalia is exposed for the time she is in ovulation she can be bred by thy instrument of thy Holy God for procreation of mankind. It is best a man not look upon the flesh or parts of the female, and touch them only in darkness and only in the garments prescribed during the mating ritual or the breeding of the future children of thy Holy God.

When thy female is with child, she should be taken to the house of God in the sanctuary and her belly prayed over by the elders, the men of the church often, so the child is blessed who is within her original sin and still wicked womb be blessed. The belly should be anointed with oil during the prayers and the laying on of hands with words of the highest propitiation to God, asking for the forthcoming child to be blessed so the child shall repent and be baptized and not continue in sin proffered by the woman, or thy mother very nature.

My brethren take heed of thy woman and know her wicked nature, be not ye deceived of her innate wickedness born of the evil one himself. Seek thy noble woman and if ye find one, marry her and breed thereof and obey God and do see clearly that I too, a spokesman for God have given you further instruction on how best you may not perish to hell but find the Kingdom. Seek the noble female for she, not free from sin or wretchedness, she is far closer to thy God than all others and will make thee a good man servant and mother of thy children.

This is for posting by males that have been fucked over, lied to, cheated on, sent to jail, taken for all they had, and been castrated by some useless fucking, worthless, less than human CUNT

Hot to ascertain and hold complete ownership over the Cunt you love

(lEFT)

CHOCOLATE BABY BATTER

In one of my earlier post on this very blog (scroll below) I elaborated a bit on possession, control and how they were not the ultimate way to have possession of the Cunt's mind, body and soul. What I did talk about was ownership with is in dire contrast to merely “thinking” you have control and possession.

Throughout my life until about the age of 52 my cunts were always extraordinarily pretty, attractive, sexy and all charged with high libidos and few scruples, when it came to sexual activity. Or I initially knew that they were good “classic control models” that would soon capitulate to my desires no matter how degrading or dangerous it became for them. One might if merely by making judgments or speculating in the non-empirical conjecture, think I did not like these Cunts, quite to the contrary. I had to “like” verses “love” then to make them tolerable to even be in my presence. So, yes, I liked them and even cultivated relationships of superficial to mild friendships. The fact remained, I could not “love” them in any classical definition of this overused or overrated word. The sad reality was that I needed them to fulfill my lustful desires and become a part of my wild machinations and fantasies that had a temporary sedating effect. The former statement being a paradox, as before the satiation, eg. Sedation could overtake me there needed first, to be the heighten anxiety and drama of whatever sexual machination was running amuck through my malfunctioning neuro-bio-chemistry.

You may find it absurd, biased, ignorant coupled with prejudice against women, I assure you it was always misogyny from my earliest memories. Women are liars and whores, most of them given the opportunity will commit acts of infidelity with some Junior Samples tiny pecker hick, just to get a few positive strokes. Revolt against this statement, refute it, call it insanity or complete insecurity or paranoia, as you may...it makes it nonetheless true for the vast majority of Cunts. You must try to ingest that women are self-absorbed, narcissistic, scheming, have an agenda that does not include you, the swinging “alleged” dick in her life, or are simply whores. The Cunt must find positive reinforcements for her inadequacies and mental shortcomings. Thus most will cheat for that reinforcement. However, when the bitch tells you, “It was nothing, he meant nothing.” She is likely telling the truth. How can that be you ask? Because, she gave up the tail for the verbal adoration. The ugly short dicked duckling, told her everything she wanted to hear about her sexual prowess, her brilliant mind, and her voluptuous body and all the class she had while he was blowing a 3.5 minute nut. Well, that may be an exaggeration. He told her all that shit, for hours prior to, and for several hours afterwards, as the Cunt in an epicurean fashion absorbed every word from some Gomer Pyle loser.

What an idiot, you say? Ah, this guy writing this claims to have an androgynous nature? Well surprise, surprise, of course I do. A highly developed one and not insofar as to be self-loathing towards my Cunt half either. It reflects pure unadulterated ignorance to hate what you cannot understand. I mentioned previously that I actually liked many Cunts throughout my life. Did I mention that I let go, released myself resolutely? Did I mention that I did not throttle myself in allowing myself to be as the Cunt. In order to better understand something I needed for my own self-absorbed, narcissistic pleasures. Self aggrandizement with the aid of a Cunt so to speak. I could have never done it without permitting myself to get in touch with and feel my own androgyny. In the “Art of War” by the ancient Chinese warrior Sun Tsu, he repeatedly emphasizes that one must know his enemy in order to be triumphacunt.

Therefore early on in my teen years I felt the painful sting of a Cunt's infidelity, that sinking feeling as though your heart in making its way slowly through your bowels. As my essence per what one call the soul is on the verge of death. The unceasing ache exuded to the outside world erupting from within, not in torrents, but slowly as creeping magma. Ah, what is this horrible sting? Might I surly die as it has pierced me like sword, in heart, in bowel, in soul? I found myself at this point, fragile and delicate whereas there was no ability left within me to trust any creature, man or woman or even beast. Only the defiant and strong recover, the weak hesitate, procrastinate and thereafter keep a near unhealthy distance from the Cunt, the Cunt so mighty she has touched him so deep, within he relegates himself to being a victim. He neither gets a sweet chunk of tail nor a kiss, for he shies from the evil beast for the remainder of his days. Never realizing it was he that imbued her with so much power over him. With titles like the confirmed bachelor who does not date, the alcoholic, the drug addict, the derelict and in the most tragic finality, he who takes his own life as the pain could no longer be endured nor the loneliness tolerated.

Subsequent to my first slings, arrows and the slow piercing sword, I decided that never again could I permit myself to give up my self worth, my esteem, my heart or soul to a Cunt. But how, I, weak of the flesh such as I was do this? Initially, I would have to gain access to the enemies camp, collaborate and consort with these Devil- Cunts. In every tactic using all subtleties, advocating their causes. Understanding their pain, frustrations. The unfair “shakes” such as lower wages for the same work and the pervasive “glass ceilings” and discrimination that allegedly befell them in a man's world, within the arrays of all the “good old boy” networks. In essence, in order to find my androgynous side, I had to feel their pain. I did my consorting in a state of mind, we will call neutrality. Was I to allow my own biases or personal feeling to come into play I would have been defeating my purpose. Admittedly, it was no easy task. However, I knew I could not live without lewd, lustful, lascivious sexual exploits requiring a Cunt. Thus, I had to learn of my enemy, in that my infiltrations would not ever become obvious. In those days I had allowed myself with great difficulty to become, “A New-Age Sensitive” kinda of guy. Of course, I was getting my pole past the beef lips into the pungent little pleasure palaces. Just not in the palaces of the elitist twats I was consorting with for educational purposes. So debonair' that I passed an opportunity to fuck one of the most beautiful women at Berkeley at a Sadie Hawkins day dance. That was “fucking” painful and throughly disheartening lest I go on ad infinitum.

In those days of course, I was consorting with the Church of Satan, Anton LeVey and company, running massive amounts of drugs across the Mexican border, a flirting with a membership into the Hells Angels, Oakland chapter. My plate so to speak was full, but I did not neglect my Cunt studies nor my pledged obligations to support many a “Twatamania” causes.
Surprising as it may seem, by 1973 I was adored, revered and highly respected by a great many elitist pig Cunts on the campus at UC Berkeley. I railed against the Manson girls (but secretly wanted to fuck all of them in some nasty sordid manner) and advocated strongly for Patty Hearst. Some of the twats thought Patti was in on her snatching (no pun intended) and I may have been the first on UC Berkeley campus to sway growing opinions as I ever so eloquently elaborated on the Stockholm syndrome.

I have to admit that when Leslie Van Houten was on trial I had fantasies of busting her out to go on a sexcapade rampage with her. In those days not so much different for a young man these days, Charles Manson showed how easily Cunts could be owned and manipulated to do virtually anything, as was clearly demonstrated.

I however, saw Cunts as a dichotomy, while weak they were also very strong in their opinions. Yet all Cunt's opinions can be changed, some are more rigidly devoted than others. Giving credit, some Cunts presented a challenge to me. That was fine, the more challenging the Cunt the better I would get at my craft and my ability to ascertain full ownership. I digress.
The Sad Case of Barbara Wayne- I met Barbara one day in front of Sproul Hall and she knew of me, and my give or take legendary way with the ladies* (*Liars and Whores). Barbara was from wealth and privilege. The product of a family that saw itself as special, far and away a cut above anyone not from the society page of the Seattle Post Intelligencer. Ah, Barbara was a “Blue Blooded All American Girl, her progenitors, fucking Capitalist Oligarch Pig Bastards. I decided to take Barbara on in a socio-cultural experiment. Sure she was an elitist little twat, but she wasn't a bad Cunt, just a Cunt without a pro noun. I had learned that Barbara's xenophobic, racist, bigoted family was not happy with her being at such a liberal school such as Berkeley. She was a Radcliffe or Sarah Lawrence girl. Barbara had made it well known to her family that she was taking part in a myriad of “social justice causes” Shit like lettuce pickers and welfare queens of the black persuasion. The idea hit me! What if...I could get this bitch to get pregnant by a po' old black underprivileged boy from the squalor of East Oakland or Palo Alto? This of course, required discussions on slavery. (Revisionist, of course) Oh, how Whitey had taken those po' folks from their native Africa, made 'em row slave trader vessels, dying of disease and starvation, and only after they had been sold like animals on the auction block by (Their own people of course) but for Barbara, the wicked slave traders that relentlessly pursued them through the bush for capture destine for auction blocks and whippings by da White man on his plantations if they survived. The evil White man who just partook of dhey wemmen, impregnating them and separating whole families.

A long story short.....:) In order to do her part to “make it up to the slaves” she needed to screw black men, and the ultimate statement would be to carry a black man's child or chillin'. This unselfish act would not only show her parents how devout her social consciousness was, but she'd be bearing the child of men whose great, great grandfathers had been sold into slavery. Thus, with her “elitist blue blood” she could afford the child advantages and subsequently make up, at least do her part in making up for the atrocities her forefathers had committed. No problem, she thought it a fantastic idea. And when I told that it was only for procreation, not for anything more, and that I would be with her, set up her slight indiscretions and watch, in that no harm befall her, she was ecstatic. I got her fucked by at least 15 Negroes all of whom loved doing her and she was not complaining either. About 5 months after the commencement of our socio-cultural righting of wrong experiment the fucking rabbit died!
The bun in Barbara's oven was a lil' picannany fo shoue.

Barbara hid her pregnancy from her parents, but when the half-negro which looked damn near fully black came out da chute, well the jig (no pun intended) was up. Lyn and Georgia gave her an ultimatum. Either give that “thing” away or we will not only disown you, we will write you out of our Will. I was, of course, sympathetic and supportive. I have to hand it to old Barb, she stood her ground.

She was out of school, and living in welfare housing in Mount Lake Terrace in Seattle with lil' ole Rubin after her great grandfather. Years later I saw Barbara, around 1988, she had three lamb heads. The fathers of the latter two were both doing time in Walla -Walla, long stretches. She had a black boyfriend but she had long since been “fixed.” Lyn and Georgia made good on their promise. She was out of the Will and Lyn, her father now dead, Georgia would not give her the time of day. When I saw her in 1988 she probably weighed in around 320 easy. She never blamed me for “enticing, putting her up to it or any it's all your fault shit”. In fact, when I saw her in West Seattle in 1988 I let her honk old BO BO for old time sake, because she was just too dog gone fat to have intercourse with. Then, in 1988, neither of us had any Axe to grind with one another, so I guess....all was copasetic , ya think?

In late 1974 I married a 5'7” perky champagne titted foxy blond 3rd year law student attending Boalt Hall. She was at the time clerking for a sleaze bag liar named Louis, who was black. When I met her she had not only and was fucking Louis she had fucked a few of his well endowed criminal clients as well. She was smart, hot and a Hoe. When Diane and I “fell in Love” rather when I fell deeply into lust, Diane vowed to stop fucking Louis and she did. I was a chivalrous sort amid all my human foibles. One day she came home and told me that Louis copped a feel and then gave her two “Black Cock” magazines to read. Well hell, she always liked them before when he gave them to her. When she told me that he offended her, (Why not sexual harassment in those days?-Could have made some bread) I took the magazines to his office, showed them to him, introduced myself and kicked the shit out of him. Needless to say, her clerking for Louis was promptly terminated.

Once a Hoe always a Hoe is probably true or mostly true. The first year with Diane was uneventful as to my artful manipulation with her cooperation of luring her into a life of sexual debauchery. We began by joining swingers clubs, then I got her going out getting laid bringing home the proof and the details.

Not long thereafter, she was gang -banging multiple Negroes of above average endowment. I had employed all my psycho-sexual skills in concert with my lack of insecurity complimented by my androgynous nature. I for nearly 10 years owned her, as I stated ownership is important. Once, for a single example we were in Las Vegas and I brought two guys I met in the casino to our room and ask her if she would not mind stripping and giving them both a good blow job. She looked them over and replied by stripping and kneeling before one of the men, his cock in her pie hole as the other fondled her. They wanted to fuck her but I was in the mood to see her use her oral argument skills that night. Damn right I could still have her doing it, had I not knocked her up. We parted due to her forsaking her Hoe like nature and nymphomania for our kids, I applaud her for that as much as I can.

I had several opportunities with so called decent Cunts after Diane, but if they were of that ilk, i.e. , they would only fuck other men behind you back and never tell, or not at all. If they had that “One Man” thingy going on, whether it be shame, guilt, brainwashing or incessant morals indoctrinations I 'd fuck them a time or two but really had no desire to further any kind of relationship. They were Cunts of course, but just not the type to whom I was so obsessively attracted.

When Diane departed I was a mere 33, and thereafter I only had “relationships” with infidels, hot wives, hot girlfriends, and semi-quasi cuckoldresses, sluts and those of the “IMA Hoe” mentality. Yet beware, all of those were into that shit about just being with me when we first met. Oh no, they would never cheat on me, or for that matter even give another man a serious look. It might have been true. As I recall I lived with, I think 12 women and married 3 after Diane. I encountered 2 that flatly refused to succumb to their and my overwhelming need to be a Hoe. In fact, one beat me down very badly and only after we had divorced she came over to my house, cum dripping from her pit of disrepute, opened a mink coat and said, “Now am I sexy?” I of course, fucked her, but I could not go on, because I did not like her, and as stated, that is important.

Now I suffer the onset of years, elder age is besetting me, thus my prowess and my ability to capture my whory quarry is greatly diminished. By virtue of this I have by necessity had to kick the habit. I did not and maybe have not gone into that dark night but as for Cunts I am doing my very best.

For all those pathetic love-sick souls out there you must know that a Cunt is a Hoe a female is by nature a Hoe with desires to procreate or breed, whichever you fancy. You are weak and you hesitate at the moment of truth. What is the moment of truth? It is the first time a Cunt challenges your reasonable authority as the dominate male counterpart of a relationship. I said, reasonable! If you ask something of her or want to discuss, or go to a movie, concert, have something for dinner, again nothing sexual but things that are “everyday” as a part of living. Certainly, compromise is essential, compromise and cooperation are necessary as you move towards getting her pink slip- No not a California Vehicle Title, silly. Dominion and ownership over her first soul and the body will follow. You must not back down if she is a contentious bitch. No matter how good the pussy or the head, fluffin' the pup, you must not allow her to ever take control. If she gets any at all, she will become a megalomaniac as all Cunts are naturally. Dump the bitch and move on.

Cunts or bitches are taught to use, or know by nature to use “THE POWER OF THE PUSSY” If you succumb to being as they say “Pussy Whipped” you are a loser and the Cunt will forever dominate and make you life a living hell. That is why taking her sexually to places she has never been before is so very important. As this cycle progresses, while in the act you can bring up the possibility of her fucking other men. NOTE: Do not even intimate that you want other women! If you have an excellent slut, Hoe, cum bucket she will be all you need.

You have to be strong and lose all that insecurity about some other guy having a bigger slong. Fuck that! Once you persuade her to fuck other men, and you begin to enjoy it as much as she is going to, you are getting ownership. What you will do after her say, first three strange dicks, is take away her, POTP or power of the pussy. She can't hold that over you any longer, no spite fucks, or revenge fucks that will devastate your ass. This will be hard for you rookies to understand. The more sexual possessiveness and control you give up, the more you will own your bitch. The greater the ownership the more peace you have. Less bitching and complaining from her.

As most of you racist bigoted fucks know, you loathe a woman who has had black cock. Let's say tons of White men think that if they get with a woman who has had chocolate stick dick, she is contaminated and diseased, stretched out, worthless and a whore. This is total myth and if you believe this shit you are a total fucking moron, idiot and so stupid that you should be in a home for special needs adults. That said, get you Cunt to take the black dick, because most White women have secret taboo jungle fever fantasies. Why don't they talk about them? You fucking morons, because you will jump their ass and maybe dump them or call them every awful name possible. Do not call you Cunt ..a Cunt just because she is.

If you really have it bad for a specific cunt, she is hot, a great lay, nice accessories. Here's the deal, get her into black cock, into enough that she gets pregnant then take her for an abortion. With this, she will have guilt, shame and be a basket case for a while. You in turn will have this, if only in knowledge to hold over her White slut head. Now, who's her Daddy? Good luck!

This is for posting by males that have been fucked over, lied to, cheated on, sent to jail, taken for all they had, and been castrated by some useless fucking, worthless, less than human CUNT

ONCE A WHITE CUNT GOES BLACK SHE CAN'T GO BACK- WHAT WHITE MAN WANTS TO RAISE NIGGER BABIES- NO BABY,!! ONCE YOU HAVE ONE DEM BABIES YO ONE OF DEM!

Ah, that White bitch slut, whore Jungle Fever, most Caucasian bitches get it sometime in their lives. Not all act upon the urge for big black nasty dick in their nasty White pussies.
As the old saying goes “Once ya go Black ya can Never go Back” Well, that is, frankly bullshit in the pure sexual sense. However, it could be no more true in the case of White cunt getting knocked up with a brotha's lil pica -ninny half-niggar baby. Once a White ho shits out one of these half-niggar babies she is marked for life, and destine to be a po Nigga ho. If not the Long gone Le Roy or Buckwheat who got her pregnant, who split the minute he had to pay for the kid, then it will be some other Niggar, on a count of, what White guy is going to have a bitch that has a couple a Nigga babies and who can't even say who the daddy is?
So You White nigga dick craving hoes think about this da next time you go to cravin' so of dat Nigga dick, because ain't no self respecting white boy gonna have yo white Nigga fucking ass after you done shit out a few half Nigga babies. What is worse ain't no Rastus, or Buckwheat that is ever going to give yo ass a dime. In fact yo Nigga babies daddy will oft' be over on welfare check day to get some of dat money the State is givin' yo ass for shittin' out a few Nigga babies. If you don't give up some White pussy and some money you can bet LeRoy or Tyrone is going to beat yo White ass and take it anyway!

Continued Below:

So bitch when you get that Jungle Fever and want some of dat nasty Nigga dick you better make sure you are on birth control. Because you ought to know with any street savvy, ole LeRoy or Tyronne or Buckwheat will put on that condom but all Niggas as we know tear a hole in it while they are guiding it into you nasty White twat, because da Niggar wants yo ass pregnant, I guess because da Nigga feel da Need ta Breed!

This is for posting by males that have been fucked over, lied to, cheated on, sent to jail, taken for all they had, and been castrated by some useless fucking, worthless, less than human CUNT

WOMAN: Intrumentality of Satan Leading Man to the Very Gates of Hell

"NEVER FORGET THAT YOU ARE A WOMAN, AND THE GREATEST POWERS YOU CAN EMPLOY AS A WITCH ARE TOTALLY DEPENDENT UPON YOUR OWN SELF-REALIZATION THAT IN BEING A WOMAN YOU ARE DIFFERENT FROM A MAN AND THAT VERY DIFFERENCE MUST BE EXPLOITED!" Anton LaVey, The Satanic Witch, copyright 1970

In the summer of 1965 I had my first contact with Anton Szandor LeVey and his wife, Carole Lansing-LeVey. Albeit, Carole was only with LeVey he had a girlfriend, who could not have been more than twenty, named, Blanche Barton with who they shared a two year old baby, Zeena Galatea. I was a very savvy street kid with many ties to the Berkeley community. One might say that I was hip, but never a hippie. Even then, I found myself lusting for Karla Maritza, LeVey's daughter who was 11 but appeared to be, under the behest and order of Anton to look a very hot sixteen. His then wife, Carole was no slouch either, she exuded sexuality while the con from Anton and what I knew was his line of bullshit, intrigued me. Without a doubt, I was taken in by LeVey not because he was founding a Church of Satan in San Francisco, but because of his ties to the Wiccan girls, the girls who fancied themselves witches, their allure of sexuality and their lack of hesitation to use it. All those many years ago my hyper sexuality coupled with a multi- phasic syndrome of mania, obsessive compulsiveness, manifesting itself in a myriad of ways from anxiety to depression and a collage of neuro- biochemistry of dysfunctional neuro transmitters, dendrites, synapses leading to satyriases. Sugarcoating my behavior, as being, merely, a misguided miscreant. Medical “psychobabbolry”, pharmacology and its practitioners may not know this plague or the genetics, nature vs. nurture for decades to come, if ever. As the black drug pushers in Oakland used to say to me, long ago, “Boy if we could shoot up yo blood or you could get us sum of dat shit dat makes you high like you is, fuck, we'd have us some real shit to make money on.” No words can convey my madness or the degree thereof. I digress.
In 1966 I joined the US Army, pretty much missing the rest of the Free Speech Movement, and the misguided misfits that were a scourge to San Francisco and the East Bay. When I returned home, I as lecherously as possibly took advantage of all the free love that was left, literally fucking anything that moved with a pussy spending my days and nights with no circadian cycle to speak of, either chasing it, thinking about it, or actually fucking it. If chasing Cunt were a mark of greatness or nobility, then I was indeed a nobleman, but not destine for greatness.
Located in the Richmond District at 6114 California Street, San Francisco, California 94121 I still recall the phone number, (415) 752-3583 was the Church of Satan the creation of not Anton Szandor LeVey but of Howard Stanton Levey a traveling grifter and carnival hustler born in Chicago in 1930. Howard was one of the best convincing bullshitters I have ever met, and in those days one of my best drug customers. It was this association that exacerbated my satyriases and allowed me to find every kinky and taboo thing in the realm of sexuality imaginable, Not that I didn't already have a serious predilection for virtually anything in within the usually reserved aspect of general living of a “balanced” life, something I would never know.
Without going into great detail, I once upon a time had the greatest love of my life, one for whom I could have left with gleeful abandonment all of my lecherous, lying, lascivious, and criminal ways behind. Her name was Mary Beth, but she died unexpectedly of an aortic aneurysm in my arms as our honeymoon concluded in 1971 in a Miami hotel room. Her parents and I, with my best friend Lee, took her back to California and I cast her ashes to the sea near the Farralon Islands off the coast of San Francisco. After I cast her remains I headed for a bible ranch on the California-Mexico border, where some old con-artist and drug dealing buddies were hole at an old persimmon ranch at Campo, California. I was soon thereafter running the devotees to Tecate, Mexico three times a week in a dilapidated school bus and returning each time with a cache of drugs, marijuana and brown tar heroine.
Some of personal best customers were, Anton LeVey, Diane Hegarty and Zeena and Karla LeVey all high priestesses in the Church of Satan. Albeit I did all the money exchanges and direct sales to Diane Hegarty, LeVey's co founder of the Church. And contrary to any popular satanist rhetoric the early beginnings of LeVey and Hegarty's operation included drugs for many of their rituals. And in case you may be interested, I am 100% positive that no human sacrifice ever took place with these hucksters. In spite of popular opinion, law enforcement horse shit and “alleged” religious institutions implications thereof accusing these narcissistic, epicurean con-artist of such heinous acts to satisfy the devil.
For the founders, LeVey and Hegarty as well as daughters, Karla while Zeena was still much too young. As well as, Blanche Barton the drugs including peyote were used to further manipulate the members for a myriad of purposes as people are usually more easily manipulated in altered states.
As a substantial part of my compensation, I was allowed to participate in the “Inner Circle” in sexual debauchery and orgies lasting days on a rural ranch down in Capitola, California near Santa Cruz. It may well, have been these rituals and ceremonies with all the sexual regalia, taboo, and unadulterated, unbridled lust that ignited even much further my already existing lust and irrepressible obsessions with sex.
Be it through faulty brain chemistry, an existing pre- disposition and an existing preoccupied predilection the dye was cast, and women and sexual pleasures had totally consumed me. Then in 1975 I figured I had to create and orchestrate a way to break free of the enticements that LeVey and company were offering me as a part of their “Inner Circle” my reward for being their long time “Candy Man” So I wrote a bellicose and vitriolic expose on LeVey and the Church leaving other names withheld which I called, Bay City Carney and Con-Man, The Church of Bullshit.
This attack on LeVey solicited an immediate dissolution between me and my “Inner Circle” orgies which by now were so intense and erotic, taboo, nasty, that I was consumed beyond what imagination and verbiage can explain. I had allowed myself to willingly go to the very brink and beyond of madness.
This, my sexual panoply, melange, obsession would then be extinguished from the ritualistic orgy phase but it would not stop. In retrospect I have often asked myself if, my involvement with such obscene excesses placed my existing satyriases in a state of unstoppable motion. This I cannot say, but I can say with many years of wrestling with sexual obsessions and women I lived in a constant state of darkness that could only be illuminated by the female(s) beckoning and the pleasures derived therof.
Women in general are truly not evil or bad creatures. They too are homo sapiens trying to survive, feel good and be happy. Unfortunately it is their brainwashing and indoctrination as a whole (no antonym pun intended) that leads the vast majority in western culture especially to have a sense of entitlement with by virtue of males having this, being special and delicate bestowed upon them. We men are weak for these pungent little pleasure palaces we place on pedestals. Thus since Eve ate from the tree of knowledge, throughout history man has lusted for them, gave his soul, his life, his freedom, hopes, dreams and all aspirations and dreams to only have one. In of themselves they too, struggle just as we men do. But be they fire or gasoline or be we fire or gasoline, we males toss upon our lives a match that ignites this, our undoing when we get involved with them. And may I tell you that, this need, or neediness, lust and want will by your own actions usher you to the very gates of hell, a Cunt escorting you.

The following was first published in 1975 c.e. in response to a number of vitriolic attacks against me by various Satanists. In 1978, I was once again the target of a Satanic poison pen campaign, caused by the publishing of my essay Bay City Carney and Con Man, The Church of Bullshit (which should be read in conjunction with this). In 1981, I decided to update this essay and to make it available once again to the Neopagan community. Now, it’s 1989, and I continue to get nasty mail from Satanists/Setanists, only now it’s obscene email!
By the way, for those who never caught the reference, this essay’s title was a take-off on a famous essay by Israel Regardie, called “My Rosicrucian Adventure.”
In the city of Berkeley, California, there is a large T-shaped intersection at the main southern entrance to the campus of the University of California, where I enrolled as a sophomore in the fall of 1965, at the tender age of 16. Here, where Telegraph Avenue runs north into the east-west Bancroft Avenue, there is a large expanse of brick sidewalk between the traffic on Bancroft and the short cement pillars that mark the entry into the plaza between Sproul Hall (the administration building) and the Student Union. It was on those bricks that I spent many leisure hours heckling the preachers who held court there in the late 1960’s.
On a small soapbox (yes, a real, genuine soapbox), “Holy” Hubert Lindsey, gap-toothed, flaming-haired and loud mouthed, would hold forth to the multitudes about how sinful they all were. Mr. and Mrs. Tieman, a middle aged couple, would hold up large white posters covered with alternating lines of red and black magic marker, that told us how sinful and evil we were, while they sang hymns over a small loudspeaker. Off to one corner, the Krishna Consciousness devotees would bang away at their drums and chant on and on and on. Various “Jesus Freaks” would wander around accosting students and subjecting them to impromptu sermons (all carefully memorized). Scientologists would hand out tracts and Marxists passed out picket signs. It was all marvelously exciting.
Naturally, the favorite sport of many Berkeley students was “Let’s heckle the religion nuts!” As a new transfer student with an already strongly developed interest in magic and religion, I jumped right in with my fellows (almost all male) and started bugging the preachers. However, I noticed after a few months that our heckling had very little effect except our own diminishing amusement. The evangelists were immune to all the standard methods of heckling — the catcalls and philosophical paradoxes rolled off them like water off a duck’s back. The evangelical, gospel-spouting approach seemed impervious to all logic and reason. It was in my third quarter at Cal that inspiration hit me.
On a beautiful Spring afternoon in January 1966, I arrived at the corner of Bancroft and Telegraph with a small platform, painted black, a small loudspeaker, also painted black and a piece of black poster board with alternating lines of red and white lettering. The top line on my sign said “The Devil’s Advocate.” It is impossible to adequately describe the horror and dismay of the preachers as I stood up on my platform, dressed all in black, and began a loud, long, sonorous sermon in my best southern accent — on behalf of the Christian Devil.
What I was preaching that afternoon was what I have since come to call “Liberal Heterodox” Satanism. I preached the Devil as Lucifer, the “Light Bearer,” champion of the intellect against repressive tyrannies on the one hand, and the original “party animal” on the other — sort of a combination of Prometheus, Bacchus and Pan. I had a “Hell” of a good time flaying my audiences for not being sinful enough, and for listening to the preachers. Inside of five minutes there was an audience around my platform larger than any of the evangelists had every raised. Some of them pretended to “heckle” me (and a few Jesus People actually did), but all their arguments were swept aside by classic preacher-think.
That day, and for many days thereafter, I practiced the art of improvisational street theater, using all the standard evangelical lines and parables to ridicule and confuse the preachers. I had been at my platform less than a week when a young woman came up to me and said, in a deliberately erotic voice, “Hi. I’m a Witch. Would you like to join the Church of Satan? You sound like you’d be perfect.”
Since she was rather pretty I quickly replied, “Hi. What’s the Church of Satan?”
“It’s the famous Satanic Church run by Anton LaVey in San Francisco,” she explained.
“Never heard of him,” I replied brightly.
“Well, you’ll like him. He’s into just the same things you are. Why don’t you go see him?” she said, handing me a card with his address and giving me a smoldering look that promised much.
So I went to see him. His hokey black house with the Gothic furnishings has been described so many times by reporters that I won’t bother. Suffice it to say that I met the man and liked him very much. He was friendly, smooth talking, played the organ beautifully, and promised me much assistance in my endeavors to torment the campus evangelists. I was invited to join the Church, membership fees were waived, and I was invited to attend his lecture series for free! (The waiving of those fees, as well as those for the weekly meetings, I learned later was almost unheard of.) He handed me a bunch of literature from his Church to hand out and I went back to Berkeley bemused and intrigued by what I was getting into.
Well, three months went by. One of the members of the Church made me a more powerful loudspeaker and thousands of LaVey’s tracts were printed up and handed out. I eventually built a large black throne on wheels, with a tape recorder, microphone and umbrella holder to keep the sun off my head. I called this my “Sinmobile,” and wheeled it across campus every day to the evangelical corner, so that I could preach in comfort. In short, I really had a lot of fun that spring.
During this time, I became a regular at the Church of Satan. I attended LaVey’s lectures, went to his Friday night rituals, and quickly became one of his regular altar boys and a “Satanic Minister.” I’ll never forget the evening when I decided to ad lib some fake “Enochian” invocations during one of the ceremonies. I dramatically intoned a lot of gibberish, using the same guttural tones that Anton always used, and everyone in the ritual acted very impressed. Afterwards, I asked Anton, “How’d you like my Enochian?” and he gave me a look that would have melted sheetrock. He did not, however, warn me of the dangers of mucking with this ceremonial language, as any real Enochian magician would have done out of sheer self-preservation (since they all believe that it is a terribly powerful magical tongue), nor did he complain that I had ruined his magical intent, as he would have done if he had actually been doing any magic. It was at that point that I realized two important things about Anton: he really didn’t know very much about Enochian and he wasn’t actually trying to do magic in his supposedly magical rites. I began to wonder if he even knew how.
But I continued to hang out at the Church, discussing magic, philosophy and Satanic theology with Anton and the other members and trying (unsuccessfully) to seduce some of the rare young women in the Church. Occasionally I would even flirt with Anton’s teenage daughter — which really flipped him out, despite the fact that she wouldn’t give me the time of day. I never was able to figure out whether he was jealous, worried about protecting her virtue, or concerned that my “commie” attitudes might be contagious.
At one point that spring, some friends of Anton’s showed up with cameras and started filming bits and pieces of faked-up rituals. Since I was still an enthusiastic ritualist, I was drafted to play various silly parts in these. I climbed into a coffin with a naked woman while wearing a bishop’s costume, stabbed a poppet with a knife, asked the high priest (Anton, in his Red Devil costume) for Satanic blessings, etc. I can’t remember any of the dialog at this point, but I do recall Anton telling us that what we said didn’t matter much, since everything was going to be translated into European languages for the “documentaries” the men were making.
Well, he was telling some of the truth for once. Parts of these films did indeed wind up in documentaries, such as “The Occult Experience,” but those parts were in English. These are the films that people in the Neopagan community see every couple of years or so, and which shock them so much — apparently they can’t see that I’m only seventeen in them, so they write me letters full of concern or denouncing me for my “betrayal” of Paganism. The foreign translations, however, were done for the bits that were spliced into pornographic movies sold in Europe. His so-called documentary film producers were actually pornographers, though the films I acted in were pretty tame. I don’t know about the “acting” other Church members might have done then or since, though I’m told that LaVey later earned his living for a few years in the European pornography industry. I know that albeit our seperation and being at odds he as well, earned money from the drugs I was providing or selling him I smuggled from Mexico in 1970.
To me it was all just another part of the adventure. I continued to listen admiringly to Anton’s tales, though I was somewhat shocked when he claimed that his huge library of occult books had been swindled from rich widows. I was more shocked when I realized that he had read only a tiny fraction of them, and that at seventeen I had read far more books on parapsychology, comparative religion and the occult than he had, despite his twenty years’ head start.
These events and insights did not take place in isolation, though. Like many other Berkeley students, I was gradually becoming a long-haired radical, yet that would change with my joining the US Army. This caused increasing friction between the rest of the Church and myself. My politics then were basically left wing/anarchist with a mild dash of Nietzsche. Anton’s politics, and those of most of the central members, seemed to be quite a bit more conservative. They’d quote Nietzsche or Hitler or Rand and tell me what it supposedly meant. Then I’d give them what I thought of as a more humanistic and intellectual interpretation. The overlap between our opinions became increasingly smaller and I became increasingly uneasy about my fellow Church members.
Some were bringing authentic Ku Klux Klan robes and Nazi uniforms for the ceremonies. I was assured that the clothes were merely for “Satanic shock value” to “jar people from their usual staid patterns of thinking.” Then I would talk to the men wearing these clothes and realize that they were not pretending anything. I noticed that there were no black members of the Church and only one Asian, and began to ask why. Just prior to my joining the Army I was called into a meeting or inquisition and supposed be alarmed.....
by one of the “Inner Circle” members (one of the pornographers), about my “obnoxious and deviationist tendencies.” I had previously been told about “odd” accidents and arrests that had occurred to others who were purged from the Church, so I tried to be as conciliatory as possible. But crewcut right wingers never have brought out the best in me, so I probably wasn’t very convincing. A week later, after the services, I was ordered to go downstairs to the “orgy room.”
When I arrived in the sanctum unsanctorium, I found thirteen people in black hooded robes sitting around a coffin-table. I was told to stand with my heels against the side of a mattress that was on the floor, with my head directly under a strong light. They then began to berate me for my deviationist thinking. The whole inquisition would have been a lot more impressive except for two factors: firstly, I recognized most of the voices as being those of the same flakes, weirdos and losers I had been meeting all along as members of the headquarters crew. Secondly, I had just finished reading a book on brainwashing techniques — the same methods that were now being used on me to force a “confession and retraction” of my “erroneous ways.” My immediate impulse to laugh was stifled, however, by the fact that I was surrounded and out-numbered by several large men, whose voices were getting increasingly loud and fanatic, and my memories of the supposed Mafia and police connections Anton had.
The smart thing to do was convince them that I was small fry and not worth arranging a fatal accident for. I proceeded to faint back on the mattress. Ignoring the fact that I had repeatedly informed them of my activities as a drama club member in high school, they all laughed and hauled me upstairs. Five minutes later I “revived” and left in a very subdued mood.
A couple of weeks later I sent Anton a suitably wimpy resignation letter, offering to refrain from all public comment about the Church and to return the public address system to the man who had provided it to me (something that never happened, though I waited until my early 1970 discharge from military service, because members had been forbidden to communicate with me — although several later did).
In 1970 aside from other activities, I went back to my previous ways, continuing for two more years the fascinating game of evangelist-baiting. Several other religious and magical groups recruited me and then kicked me out for heresy. Gradually, I became used to the idea that there were damned few groups around who wanted independent thinkers, and that most of the organizations I infiltrated or joined (from even before I came to Berkeley) were likely to kick me out the second I started deviating from their party line. Fortunately, I discovered the Reformed Druids of North America shortly after being purged from LaVey’s Church, and those tree-hugging Zen anarchists were just what the Goddess ordered. I’ve been a Druid and a Pagan ever since. This is Pagan as in the true sense. I am in fact, a devoted iconoclast and virtually believe in nothing and true to form demean all things sacred no matter what they are.
I’m still amused more than angered by the cyclical attacks against me in the Pagan press and now on the Net. I’m not sure that my foolishness as a teenager is particularly relevant to my present character, opinions and activities, any more than the foolishness of many other famous Pagans during their adolescence. Shall we all investigate what Starhawk, Selena Fox, Ray Buckland, Oberon and Morning Glory Zell were doing when they were seventeen? For that matter, what were LaVey, Aquino, and Flowers/Thorsson doing during their teenaged years? (Pagan computer hackers take note, this could be an entertaining research project.)
I’m perfectly happy now, as I was then, to admit that I was stupid to get involved with LaVey and his Church, in such a quasi but yet seemingly personal way, and even more stupid to reveal my precocious knowledge of the occult and to advise members of the group behind the guru’s back.
Yet any magically- or mystically-oriented person must be willing to accept that if they experiment or engage in adventures, they are liable to be made a fool of, be ripped-off or have their reputation smeared by those who belong to or sympathize with the Power Elite. I was curious about LaVey and his group and let them recruit me. I find it difficult to be sorry, although LaVey expected me to be, that no new members were brought into the ranks by my efforts — after all, my chief aim had been to torment and fight evangelists and fascists, not to help them.
I said back in 1974 that people desperate to smear me would inevitably bring up those months with LaVey, for lack of anything better to use, and that prophesy has come true several times. The (re-)publishing of Bay City Carney and Con Man, The Church of Bullshit, however, brings them out of the woodwork every time. Michael Aquino, the neo-nazi head of the Temple of Set, has been especially active in spreading carefully crafted lies (he’s a career military intelligence officer, after all) about my time with LaVey. His professionally written disinformation is precisely targeted to make feminists, civil libertarians and Neopagans disgusted with me, especially if they are unfamiliar with propaganda techniques. Various other Satanic crackpots, some of whom were denouncing me many years ago, join in with equally ludicrous accusations and sophomoric insults.
The primary claim these folks are making (other than the traditional one most my critics use: “Isaac* (Isaac Bonovitz the name I always used as a pseudonym to protect myself from these idiots knowing my true identity;) is a terrible person, don’t listen to him”) is that every one of my opinions about past and current Satanism has supposedly been warped by my “bitter experience” with the Church of Satan when I was seventeen. To this very day, I am supposed to be horribly ashamed of having been purged by them, and using any excuse to attack these innocent philosophers. All of which ignores some glaringly obvious facts.
(1) I’ve been kicked out of lots of occult groups over the years. Most of them I joined for the orgies and sex that occured within them. I haven’t spent much of my time denouncing entire theological movements related to them, because most of them weren’t very representative. Anton, however, along with Montague Summers and Adolph Hitler, was a seminal figure in the modern Satanic movement, as even his enemies and competitors (such as Aquino) cheerfully admit. So LaVey provides one excellent example of just how shallow, patriarchal and fraudulent Satanism is.
(2) As I’ve said before, you can’t be in the occult community for six months, let alone thirty years, without meeting a wide spectrum of Satanists, Setians, Luciferians, Gnostic Dualists, Chthulians, and other proud upholders of the so-called “Left Hand Path.” I’ve met scores of Satanists, “black magicians” and other idiots trying hard to impress me with how philosophical, evil, and/or dangerous they were. After a while, the shallowness of their thinking and the repetitiveness of their dysfunctional personalities becomes stunning in its cliche-ridden banality.
(3) I’m a professional occultist and a scholar of minority belief systems. I’ve read plenty of Satanic/Setian literature and found none of it plausible. I’ve studied the historical record of how the Roman Catholic Church invented modern Satanism. I’ve read the work of genuine authorities and found their academic analyses far more convincing than the self-serving clap-trap produced by folks trying to make big bucks out of conning the rubes.
My knowledge of Setanists and Setanism is observational, historical, philosophical, and extensive. Thus, my comments in “The Enemies of Our Enemies” that Satanists and their ilk tend to be “fascists, jerks and/or psychopaths” who don’t care a fig for anyone’s civil liberties except their own, is accurate, historically sound, and rather mild.
Anyone who bothers to read the trash that LaVey writes (or rather that he puts his name on — he bragged to me about how he had gotten various members of the Church to write the different chapters of his first two books for him) will notice certain familiar attitudes permeating the contents. His version of Satanism, like the Christian mythology it is a part of, is racist and sexist. His right wing nonsense is part and parcel of the patriarchal worldview that Goddess worshippers and Neopagans abhor. If Adolf Hitler had decided to publicize his occult beliefs, they would have wound up sounding much like LaVey’s (or Michael Aquino’s) writings — though with dashes of libertarianism thrown in to make it sound oriented towards individuals.
The “philosophy of Satanism” is deliberately designed to appeal to the KKK or American Nazi Party type of mind: all those ignorant embittered failures who are convinced that “there’s a conspiracy” to keep them from their rightful places as rulers of the world. Even the Satanists who consider themselves “pre-Christian Gnostic Dualists” still accept the same patriarchal world view that lies(!) behind Christianity, dividing the universe into warring armies of Good and Evil.
Members of the Neopagan community have some fairly simple choices about how to react to disinformation campaigns against me: (1) They can read my writings on the topics of Satanism/Setianism, Neopaganism and civil liberties, and analyze my arguments to see if they make sense regardless of any biases I might or might not have. (2) They can decide that a man who has spent his entire adult life as a priest of the Earth Mother may be a more reliable source of information than people who glorify the Christian “Father of Lies,” and reject poison pen letters/newsgroup posts as self-serving Setanic propaganda. (3) They can decide to believe the worst possible stories about me because I’m a pompous, cantankerous grouch and they would like to see me taken down a peg, regardless of whether the tales are true. (4) They can choose to ignore the whole controversy as requiring too much mental effort to bother with.
These last two choices may or may not lead to (5) cozying up to the Setanists, joining with them in legal and public relations work, helping to improve their public image and confirming mainstream fears that Satanists and Pagans really are the same after all — thus playing directly into the hands of the people who would like to imprison and/or kill us.
No matter what decisions the members of the community may make, I hope that they will respond in writing to the various Neopagan publications, newsgroups, and chatrooms in which the Setanists usually dominate this discussion. Defending or attacking Isaac Bonovitz isn’t anywhere near as important as creating a consensus among Pagans as to what relations — if any — we should have with Satanists and other fundamentalist Christians. That requires strong Pagan positions to be articulated, Pagan arguments to be carefully scrutinized in the light of Pagan polytheism, and Pagan hearts to be looked deeply into, and only for the sake of understanding of scholarly pursuits of those weaklings that must have some deity or bogeyman to vest faith or fear in with a sense of awe or fright.

In the pursuit of all belief systems, religions, deities, (g)ods and (g)oddesses and those elements of the natural world, through my study and experience, all is primarily motivated by one factor, fear. In essence the fear of one cessation of being, in other words, dead. Humans are self-absorbed creatures over wrought with an inflated sense of self-importance regardless of their status in life, the poorer among them being more devout due to far less distractions other than survival in the visceral world. Whereas the haves' have much idle time to consume and enjoy the finer things bequeathed to them by the sweat of the mule dog laborers.
Thus far I have tried to present my involvement with LeVey and company and other occult groups in the most intellectual and scholarly way possible. Be that as it may, all of my involvement had one primary factor and therein a hidden agenda that I never disclosed to anyone. That factor was sex and pleasures of my own flesh. As a nihilist, narcissist, sociopath, misanthrope, misogynist and total iconoclast my involvements were that, and to learn in the epistemological sense, with a precocious desire to understand the world I existed in and its many facets to promulgate my very survival.
The occult presented far more opportunity than did anything having to do with Holy Roman or branches of Christianity. Those opportunities being the satiation of worldly desires and among them the satiation of my lust for female flesh and the pleasures it brought me in my veritable occupational obsessions.
I do not believe in good nor evil, good or bad, right or wrong all relative concepts invented by half Neanderthal Assines who wrote bullshit epic works like the bible and the Epic of Gilgamesh and the anti-deluvial and post deluvial goings on of mankind before and post destruction. The papyrus scroll authors passed on tales and myths, they were not fully developed in their cerebral cortex and were no doubt prone to schizophrenic delusions, so of course, I always put a great deal of stock in their prophesy and knowledge of myths, visions and their close associations with first a supreme being and then his offspring.
Lucifer, Beelzebub, Satan or the infamous Devil all figments of self perpetuated myths as is the Deity, lakes of fire or streets of gold. A world filled with panic stemming from mythology but ripe for the taking. Albeit my interest was not in the material aspects or comforts, rather in the “vile, promiscuous, lurid whores that tend to patronize these occult groups. Therefore my immoral compass gravitated to a magnetic menagerie of those who could provide fleshly pleasures and plenty of it to an insatiable satyr, in all of that which is glorious redundancy.
Throughout my involvement and my other lives and identities, I found that I was virtually powerless to resist my lustful lascivious nature the whole responsibility laid upon me, regardless of whatever its etiology in heredity, nurture, incessant exposure to poor rearing and lack of nurturing, the odious labors of satisfying my needs rest with me, and nobody else.
Women in their most vile states of mind, lifestyle, beliefs and their own wanton lust and promiscuous nature provided me my only real outlet for the realization of my personal hierarchy of need, right at the peak, was sex and the more taboo the better.
I always despised women as I did most of humanity, but most of humanity did not have a pussy, tits or the wiles and means to provide my need, not needs because sex and lustful taboo pleasures trumped food and all other factors of subsistence. For many years I gave into my lust and eventually had the epiphany that women are actually the vile selfish creatures I had always imagined them to be. I found that despite a man's most diligent and best efforts if he is lustful with anything hyper to “normal” desires that the female will destroy him ultimately. Given they are vile and disgusting mammals they serve one purpose, procreation. For men such as I they serve to be the vehicle to satisfy a very unhealthy obsession that can only be quenched by their sexuality, bodies and subsequent equipment. I can say with ultimate certainty they (female homo sapien mammals) are the forbidden temple of destruction and without your own personal balance they will provide you the means for you, yes, you to destroy your mind and your health, thus leading you to an early grave or debilitating disease, sorrow, poverty. If you do not eliminate this unquenchable desire, find an abatement or stop it by whatever means necessary, women will in the metaphoric sense lead you to and early demise and if Hell existed, the would escort you there, in a mini skirt, long legs, perky tits, facial beauty withholding it all as they waved good-bye never giving you scent less a taste of the poison before some demon closed the gate to eternal damnation.

Chapters in the book "The Satanic Witch" by Anton Szandor LaVey

1. Are You a Witch? ...includes - The Myth of the "White Witch", The Drug Scene, The Married Witch versus the Single Witch, Choose an Image, and "Natural" versus "Acquired" Ability.
2. Knowing Yourself and Others ...includes - The Real You, The LaVey Personality Synthesizer, Predominantly Masculine Types in Female Bodies and Vice Versa, Temperament, Skin and Flesh Tone, General Proportions, Sexual Proclivities, Sense of Humor, Alcohol and Drug Use, Professions and Occupations, Sports Athletics Aches and Pains, Are you Passive or Dominant by Nature?, The Power of Certain Names, His Name, The Law of the Attraction of Opposites, By his Automobile Ye Shall know Him, and Sleep Patterns...and Other Bedroom Activities.
3. E.S.P.: Extra Sensual Projection ...includes - The Pupils of his Eyes as a Measurement for Success, Sound, On the Importance of Odors, Taste, and Touch.
4. Looks Mean Everything ...includes - You Don't Have to be Ugly, Make-Up: Projective Coloration, Your Fur, Your Undercoat, The Law of the Forbidden, and Secrets of Indecent Exposure.
5. Fashion: The Witch's Greatest Friend, The Witch: Fashion's Worst Enemy ...includes - Cartoon Cuties, Stockings versus Panty Hose, The High Heel, On Prostitutes and Pentagrams, Accessories, and Color Clues for Witches.
6. Bitchcraft ...includes - Taking Advantage of Men who Think They're Taking Advantage of You, How and When to Lie, Learn to be Stupid, How to Charm a Married Man, Giving In, The Folly in Trying to Charm a Self-Aware Homosexual, The Lesbian Witch, and Gestures Mannerisms Toilet Habits and Assorted Ploys.
7. Means of Divination ...includes - How To Tell Fortunes With no Previous Experience, "Cold" Reading and "Casing the Mark", and Prophesy.
8. Ceremonial Magic ...includes - Sex Magic Without Sanctimony, Casting a Spell, How to Protect Yourself from Another Witch's Curse, How to Become a Succubus and Attack the Man of Your Choice While he Sleeps, and On Choosing a Familiar or a Demon.
9. Public Relations for Witches ...includes - How to Break the News.
Here are a few guidelines for the "uniform" of the compleat witch. Though all of these elements are highlighted in Anton LaVey's book on the use of feminine power, The Satanic Witch, this is a distilled, easy-to-understand cheat sheet. These are the first steps towards distinguishing yourself as a witch, unconstrained by the common fetters of "freedom" established by our Liberated Sisters. Why should we let transvestites be the only ones empowered to flaunt the trappings of women anymore? Many of these things are talismanic; perhaps no one will see them, but they are there for us to feel, as a constant reminder of who and what we are - pioneers in the Age of Fire. Women should stop living in fear that, if they dare dress like women, they'll either get criticized by other women or hassled by creeps on the street. If our society has degenerated to such a state of lawlessness that a woman can't wear a pair of high heels in public without inviting rape, then, to paraphrase Teddy Roosevelt, Satanic women better stand up on our hind legs, dress enticingly and carry a big stick - or whatever weapon it takes to protect ourselves.
How should a Satanic Witch dress? (as written in the book "the Satanic Witch by Anton Szandor LaVey)
1. Skirt or dress, straight cut, above the knee - we are the truly liberated! That means we use the power of being woman as women. On one hand, women are told to love themselves and advance toward a position of authority in society; at the same time, fashions dictate that we dress as impotent little girls, trying to fit into our fathers' oversized clothes. This is senseless to the Satanic Witch. Clingy, smooth fabrics are flattering to a woman's figure, with a belt to accent the waistline. Try to stick with classic V-neck lines.
2. High heels, at least - the classic witches' shoe. Most flattering to the leg, as it creates an inviting S-curve, and a nice jiggle to your walk without even trying. If you've never worn them, don't overestimate your shoe size. If they fit like your running shoes or sandals, they're too large. Give yourself time to learn to walk in them; skip an exercize class and give yourself a real workout!
3. No bikini underwear - always full-cut; white, off-white or dusty-pink; rayon or nylon (smooth-finish) panties. The bikini cut was designed for women with no curves. They are an anathema to the witch. They give no emphasis to your ample hips or pleasingly small waist.
4. No pantyhose - the enemy of every witch. They are nylon pants strangling our sex, allowing for no ventilation or freedom of movement. The classic seamed stocking was designed to augment the beauty of a woman's leg, the seam tracing the gentle curves, the dark contrasting top accenting a woman's seldom glimpsed thigh. Make sure the stocking is proportioned so the top hits you just a couple of inches above the knee. No flashy colors. Beige-toned, smooth finish, seamed stockings are more eye-fetching than any purple-ribbed or paisley-flowered leg.
5. Garter Belt - not the sateen-covered rings of elastic that are thrown at weddings or that teenagers dangle from their rear view mirrors. Hunt down a plain, white garter belt that goes around the waist. No frills, lace, or black and red imitation-satin "stage-undies" that are designed for one night's use. You want the 10,000 mile kind, that lasts long enough to look dingy and soiled; the kind of underwear any decent, God-fearing woman would be mortified if a man glimpsed.
6. Vivid make-up - use classic bright reds for your nails and lips. Eye shadow should be dramatic blues and greens. Blush should look rosy and pink, not like shades of brown and subtle earth-tones. "Tasteful" translates to "that which will make others comfortable". Don't be shy. It's to our advantage to stand out.
7. No perfumes or heavy deodorants - the scent of your own flesh is enticing enough. Perfumes just irritate.
8. No excessive jewelry - one ring on each hand is plenty. And you don't need to wear three or four necklaces at a time; weighing yourself down with heavy jewelry only detracts from a woman's body. You don't need to mar yourself with tattoos and piercings to get attention. More than one earring in each ear doesn't highlight your best features, it camouflages them. A nose stud just invites someone to try to wipe the booger off your nose.
9. No tattoos or piercings - don't permanently brand yourself as a slave to fashion. As Dr. LaVey has said, "A woman should be a work of art; she shouldn't have to have art tattooed on her.

Beware of the SHE-DEVIL for it is your mind and weakness that gives her the power she has over you, and for all intents and purposes you are then a powerless hopeless creature. Your destiny a life of misery with a future at the gates of Hell!

This is for posting by males that have been fucked over, lied to, cheated on, sent to jail, taken for all they had, and been castrated by some useless fucking, worthless, less than human CUNT