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