Jake Block

First Stones

rock

 

by Jake Block

“So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.”
— The Bible, John 8:7
Sorry to go all Biblical on you, but it’s to make a point.  I am sometimes amazed at how quickly we as Satanists can jump from a stance that “there are no laws” to implacable morality and condemnation when someone… anyone… does something that we don’t like.  Our go-to position on the issue of morality is that there is no universal morality, and that a Satanist is not bound by the morality of a culture of a religion.  This would lead those outside the fold to think that we have no morals, and that we live in some “red hour” world where anything goes and we can condone any action by anyone at any time, from murder to child molestation to rape to putting ketchup on a fine steak.  The reality is that when the focus is taken from that 10,000 ft vision of society as a whole to a much more personal microcosmic vision of life as it applies to ourselves and those in our immediate sphere, we have structure and morality on an individual or “consensual core” basis that can be every bit as binding and restrictive as any imposed by cultural or societal tenets.
For example, we tout a Satanic “weltanschuung,” wherein man is simply another animal, “sometimes better, and more often worse that those who walk on all fours.”  In The Satanic Bible, we read the words, “I live as the beasts of the field, rejoicing in the fleshly life.”  We declare that we live and uplift man’s carnal nature.  All well and good, as we take a “whatever floats your boat” stance of sensuality, sexuality and the freedom to live your life as you will, regarding sex, so long as no one is involved that doesn’t wish to be.  Men and women are there for your pleasure… enjoy.   Well… wait a minute.  That’s all well and good until you decide that you want to have sex with MY woman, and whether or not you perceive her as sending out a mating signal to you, you’re crossing MY line in the sand.  Here, personal morality comes into play that coincidentally meshes with cultural morality.  While we might pay lip service to the concept of living without restrictions, when it comes down to personal rights and expectations, we often find ourselves at odds with our own stated philosophy.
I have seen Satanists advocate everything from rape to child molestation as being ok, because nothing is forbidden.  However, when pressed, I have yet to see one Satanist say, “Sure.  Rape my wife.  Molest my kid.  It’s all good.”  They will usually “cop out” with a statement like, “You will have to get past me first.”  This is to say… well, it’s ok for everyone else, but not me and mine.  Personal morals and protection of one’s sphere based on that code that very often coincides with the societal and cultural taboos kicks in.  Most won’t admit it, because to do so would show that one actually does function in a societally acceptable fashion, even when fashionable to dismiss it as antiquated and archaic.  That doesn’t stop us (the editorial us) from loudly condemning those whose lifestyles we find distasteful, all the while standing on that high ground of personal moral conviction.
I’ve considered opening up a shop.  It would be a place with nothing in it but big ass rocks, and I’d call it FIRST STONES.  They would be the perfect size for those who need to cast stones at others they feel superior to.  The prices would be high, because if honesty is an indicator of sales, I have a feeling that those sales would be few and far between.
“So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.
After a moment, a woman staggered forth from the crowd, a huge rock held high over her head, grunting from the strain as she ran toward the woman and slammed the rock down on her head, killing her instantly.
And Jesus said, “Mom, you’re really starting to piss me off.”

 

It’s Nice To Be A God… But It’s Good To Be A King

ygotas___it_s_good_to_be_the_king_by_rivan145th-d64xvmx

by Jake Block

Many Satanists dive headlong into the philosophy and immediately proclaim, “I am my own God,” not realizing that it’s a metaphor
for being in control of one’s world and one’s life, and not some pie in the sky notion that simply by declaring oneself a Satanist one becomes a deity as such.  And really, it’s pretty pretentious for a 14, 15, or even 20 year old to think that they are in total control of their life.  Hell, some people live and die as Satanists without ever being in total control of their lives, beyond the delusions of their own minds.  The realities of economy and personal empowerment being what they are, one is lucky to survive in the first quarter of their life without some help of some kind, and many are saddled with student loans, underemployment, the squandering of resources on frivolous pursuits, alcohol, drugs, gambling… Being a god just ain’t that easy!  It’s a problem with no simple answer.
A Satanist is concerned with living and personal growth.  Part of that is the building of the control of one’s life, giving you the best possible chance not only of survival, but at living well, despite the predictions and ill wishes of your detractors.  Accept the metaphor of being one’s own god as the long term goal, and one that you will continue to strive for for the rest of your life, but while getting there, shoot for more manageable goals, building on short term goals to move you step by step closer to that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  And consider, being a god might be wonderful, although impractical, as having total control of one’s life has a lot more hurdles to conquer than one runner is prepared for.  A much more achievable goal, and one that, with some preparation and commitment one can reach at a relatively young age, is to become King of your own little world… master of your domain.  I’m talking about success on an appreciable and tangible level, firmly emplacing yourself in an economic and educational bracket that allows you greater freedom of security, movement, privacy and self determination.
It’s an achievable goal… aye.  But here’s the rub.  It takes the magic of effort and steadfast determination to get there, as well as the deferring of immediate gratification of the senses for the sustainable maintenance of one’s much improved state upon reaping the rewards of moderate frugality and academic accomplishments.  Building one’s personal economic portfolio starts you on the road to self-sufficiency and sustainability.  Always make sure to “pay yourself first” by saving a portion of your wages, even if only a few dollars per week, invest wisely when you can in a “no load” mutual fund with wide diversification to protect your investment, and make sure to live within your means while steadily increasing your compensation in wages and benefits.  Sooner than you think, you will start to see that you are becoming more and more able to financially withstand the onslaughts of adversity in life, and be better able to predict trends that lead you into trouble, while making the best of opportunities that give you the best options for avoiding them!  As any good king will tell you, always remember The Golden Rule:  “He who has the gold makes the rules.”  Have the courage to work within your life to be that man or woman.  Be the King of your world, and while you might not yet be a god, you’ll be much closer and more comfortable in your quest that most, and certainly more equipped to get there than 99% of all people who talk about it but never put their talk into action.

Arguing Just To Argue… Trolling, Trolling, Trolling Down The River

Argue

by Jake Block

We all know the type.  They argue just  to argue.  The type who considers themselves an expert on any subject, contrarian and often aggressively so, simply to seem relevant.  In most cases, they’re harmless and just looking for their 15 minutes of fleeting fame, but they’ve drunk too much of their own bathwater and now seem convinced that they are legendary beyond  the constraints of their own mind, and now have decided that the Internet is their rightful domain.  All hail them… or feel their righteous WRATH!!!
It’s not all their fault.  They’re only doing what they are allowed to do.  You are at least as culpable in their delusion if you feed them and play along with their games.  The oft-seen internet dictum, “DON’T FEED THE TROLLS” has meaning.  These people thrive on the enmity that they can create, any controversy to which they can hang their name.  It’s impotent rage and the need to feel powerful in a world where, truth be known, they have none.  If you want them to die off, the solution is simple.  Don’t feed the trolls.  Trolls only stay where they get what they want.  When they are ignored, they leave or reinvent themselves with cutesy variations of their “handles,” thinking if they modify their schtick just a bit, no one will recognize them.  Then, when they think that their past bullshit has been forgotten, they begin the same thing all over again.
Then we have the errant knights traveling the web for a cause… their purpose is to confront this scourge with logic and with common sense and a zeal for whatever truth they see as sacrosanct and beyond reproach.  “Trollish” in their own actions, they seem to feel just as justified in carrying on long, boring, repetitive repetitions of their battles of yore, cutting and pasting voluminously, until their threads rival Gone With The Wind in volume.  Always claiming to be “just setting the record straight,” they feed the trolls constantly, until the troll, once insignificant as a flea on a dogs ass, becomes the 800 pound elephant in the room, while our erstwhile knight basks in the glory of his quest… and spreads his tale of that quest from thread to thread, page to page.  When challenged, he will tell you… I’m just making sure they get the message that… and apparently need to do it as conspicuously as possible.
There is only one way to defeat a troll, and and that is to refuse to play their game.  It’s not only frustrating to them, but gives the message that they are simply not worth the time to answer.  Others involved in whatever site the troll is inhabiting will quite often pick up on the stance of the board leaders and move on to topics that have relevance, abandoning the troll who, since no one will engage them in their games, is forced to move on.  Some sites, such as this one, refuse to allow trolls to infect their threads, insisting on quality posting and a lack of drama and angst.  Sites such as this often thrive as their members realize that they can post without fear that their every word will be torn to shreds by the trolls, and they are free to converse, share and learn from others.
Trolls… extinction is sometimes a good thing.

Beauty, Like The Night

Metropolis Street

by Jake Block

“She walks in beauty, like the night.”
— Lord Byron
Few things to me are as beautiful and darkly erotic as the night, especially the late night in almost any city.  It’s a time when the rules that govern the daytime world slip away to the periphery.  Things that can’t happen when the stroboscopic effects of the sun, illuminate and invade every crack and crevice, purifing the scene, might happen when the sun retires for the day.  From the moment the sun begins to set, the very nature of light and shadow becomes softer and more conducive to dreams and fantasies.  It is to this world that I belong.  It is to this world that I return.  The world becomes new again with jewel-like lights, sights and sounds and people who are different from those who share the day.
The night can become a canvas, blank as any other, but then the artist paints with light of neon and soon a story begins to unfold, all within the camera, and my tripod steadying the view, ever changing, deepening in blacks and blues and reds as bright as the brightest rubies, citrine yellows and emerald greens of the traffic light in the distance.  A second or two later, the world renews itself within my lens and I scan for something… anything… a point of interest neglected by the day, taking center stage in the night.  A darkened church with a single light inside bringing the stained glass tableaus to life… people in the shadows… not my business.  Just another shot.
The click click click of heels on the pavement.  The scent of too much perfume and a cigarette.  She stands silently and sizes me up as a john or a chump or something else yet to be seen.  “What you doin’ man?  You a cop or what?”  I continue my vigil and answer, “Or what.”  She watches me quietly as I set up a shot and time my exposure, saying, “Your flash didn’t work, too bad man.”  Then seems truly interested when I tell her that I don’t need a flash to take pictures and some things can be much more beautiful in the dark.  She throws her cigarette down and crushes it with her shoe and says, “Let me take a look.  Can I see what you see?”  “You can try,” I answer as I focus in on the ornate windows of the church.
She peers into the viewfinder for a long moment, then looks up and views the scene with her naked eye, a bit puzzled that it looks so different… not better… just different.  I could tell her that it’s the difference in optic ratio, her eye’s view being equivalent to about 52mm, and the camera shooting at a much tighter 70 mm… but why spoil it.  I just tell her that it’s all in what you want to see from the sights that are there for you to see.  You can see it all or just details.  Seeing the picture within the picture is the mark of the photographer over someone who “takes pictures.”  “That’s cool, man.  Gotta shake my ass and make some money.  You interested?”  I wave and say, “No thanks.  Good luck and be safe.”  She smiles for the first time and says, “Maybe you can take my picture sometime.”  Then she click click clicks down the darkened street.
Through out the night they come and go as I weave from here to there, finding the shots that interest me, all the while keeping alert for the possibility of danger, yet comfortable in my surroundings.  My friendly hooker comes and goes, walking in a kind of rough beauty that is enhanced by the darkness, wearing a life quite different than she would in the day.  Cops flash me with red and blue, polluting my shot, curious why I would be there in the dead of night.  Cautioning me to watch my back and keep 911 on speed dial.  They deny my request to take a shot of them in their cruiser, wary of me as they might be of anyone else in this darkened world.  The hours pass quickly as I find the pictures in the picture, then make my way home in the quickening light.

Testing Your Mettle

victory

by Jake Block

“We are young,
Wandering the face of the earth,
Wondering what our dreams might be worth;
Learning that we’re only immortal
For a limited time.”
— Dreamline  (Rush)
When we’re young and the whole world lays before us, it’s easy to forget that the span of our existence is counted in just scores of  years, despite deluding ourselves that we’re going to be “the one.”  We will be the one to persevere against nature and all of the inequities of life and living.  We’re armed with the immortality of youthful exuberance and zeal… who can stand against us?  For those of us who move on past the Bible and its teaching, we reject the words of Psalm 90:10 :
“The days of our years are threescore years and ten;

and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years,
yet is their strength labor and sorrow;
for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.”

And even if the natural scheme of things is that we might only have those three score and ten… maybe a few more… we will milk the world of its nectars and bask in the sun.  Few actually accomplish this in the grandest of style, and most of us settle for scant days in the sun amidst what we see is the overcast gloom of working and compromising and negotiating away our wanderlust for the security and comfort of family and home.  Affordable luxuries are welcome respite from the workaday world, but we deal with it and we plod on through our teen years, to our twenties, thirties, forties… and then we see the crest of  the hill that is on the horizon and almost on cue, Arthur Shopenhauer’s  words come to mind, “Once you are over the hill, you begin to speed up.”
Throughout your life, you will be tested.  Obstacles will be placed in your way.  Temptations will be offered that will waste your precious reserves of stamina and drive, lulling you into comfortable stasis of alcohol, drugs, self-absorption and mental stagnation.  You will be drawn to the abyss over and over again, sometimes emerging unscathed, and at other times bearing the deep and painful scars of your failures.  But still, you are immortal.  You might be diminished in “soul” and resolve, yet you continue life’s journey, perhaps tested and bloodied, but head never bowed.
At the crest of the hill one meets the fact that their immortality was for a limited span, and now, just as we all must, your begin that long descent on the other side.  There is no winning of this race with oneself, we must finally acknowledge, but in contemplating our lives up until this point, we may soon realize that all of the trials, tribulations, successes, failures and personal enlightenment has come to this.  This is the test of one’s true mettle, for how one faces their own inevitable death is at least as important as how one deals with life, arguably, more important by far.  Bodies fail, in time.  Minds fail too.  Fortunes crumble, and we are sometimes left with nothing but the memory of those past glories and the certain knowledge that we well, at some time, pass into what is beyond knowing with certainty.  You only have two options.  Face it with dread or make this last run down the hill of life a victory lap that you rush headlong into, arms raised, wide-eyed and joyous!
A man once asked me, “What if you die and you were wrong and you face an angry God who has the power to blast you into oblivion?”  My answer to him was a line from an old Grateful Dead song “I may be going to Hell in a bucket, but at least I’m enjoying the ride.”  Life is that great epicurean banquet, we taste and try, rejecting the easy way of compulsion and addiction for using what we find along the way to bolster our resolve to drain every last drop of life before we lay it down.  When we reach the bottom of the hill, our momentum given way to inertia, we can stand with our toes on that wondrous finish line and, just as we take that last step into forever, raise our fist in victory and shout out loud, “NEXT!!!”

Walking The Lonesome Path

images

by Jake Block

“You got to walk that lonesome valley.
 You got to walk it by yourself.
 Oh, nobody else can walk it for you.
 You’ve got to walk it by yourself.”
— The Reverend Mr. Black (The Kingston Trio)
Like many of us who have been around for a while, I get requests to “guide” people along the Left Hand Path, and while I suppose it’s flattering in a way, in many ways it shows me that the requestor has a wrong idea about what the Left Hand Path actually is.  Many seem to think that it’s an initiatory system, along the lines of the OTO, AA or Rosicrucians.  This is an idea that is organizational in nature, and not experiential, aside from the very agendized experiences that a specific organization wants its membership to experience in order to climb that next rung of the pecking order.  While an organization might indeed be considered a “left hand path” organization, such as The Church of Satan, Temple of Set, and even The Sect of the Horned God, they are not THE Left Hand Path, per se.
Thomas, Mistress-Babylon, DarkF00l and I can give you the benefit of our personal experiences, having traveled on the Left Hand Path for years and in some cases, decades.  But while we might recommend things to you, based on those experiences, we can’t draw you a detailed map of how to get from here to there, start to finish.  There are two main reasons for this.  First, the path changes from day to day and person to person.  The path I have taken, and taken far, might have some similarities to the paths of Thomas, Mistress-Babylon and DarkF00l, but no two paths are exactly alike and no two experiences along those paths are exactly alike.  It’s almost like a parallax view of reality, dependent solely upon the viewpoint of the individual at any given moment.
To understand what I am saying, hold your arm straight out in front of you and give the “thumbs up” sign.  Now position your arm to put your upraised thumb directly in the center of your field of vision.  Close your right eye.  Now, open it and close your left eye.  Notice the shift?  That is the parallax shift and will illustrate that what you see straight on, those just a bit to your left or right will see the same thing just a bit differently than you do.  In the case of the Left Hand Path, these differences can be experiential or philosophical and even psychological differences that color our judgement and perception from one person to the next.  So, you see, the Left Hand Path I see can never be the Left Hand Path YOU see, and while I might be able to describe my path to you, and you might describe yours to me, we will never be able to completely experience the path in the same way.
The second reason is that the Left Hand Path may simply go on forever.  The goal of traveling the Left Hand Path is to reach a state of personal enlightenment, just as it is for people traveling the Right Hand Path.  What, though, is “enlightenment?”  It’s a moving target at best, and while at 22, I thought I was enlightened… until I realized I had more to learn to reach that goal.  I’ve since seen, 32, 42, 52 and 62 and while I feel more knowledgable about the philosophy to which I subscribe, I have learned that any time I think I have it down pat, someone or something will show me that there is something left for me to learn and experience.  So, while in the eyes of someone just starting their journey, those of us farther down the path might appear to be “enlightened,”  but we still question and we still wonder.  And we STILL have to walk this lonesome valley.  We have to walk it by ourselves.  We may find clues and wisdom along the way, but it’s our path.  We have to walk it by ourselves.

Hoofbeats

zebra-stripes

by Jake Block

There’s an old saying,  “Unless you live on the Serengeti, when you hear hoofbeats, don’t immediately think Zebras.”
It’s a reminder that you shouldn’t jump to conclusions based on scant evidence, and that you should be mindful that your suppositions should be based on what is more probable, rather than remotely possible.  There are a lot of people who jump to illogical and often specious conclusions when met with circumstances that fall outside of their realms of understanding and, instead of looking to the most logical of answers, find comfort in simply ascribing supernatural causes to whatever dilemma they face.  The inscrutability of “god” can cover a multitude of sins, for they know from their childhood training that “God works in mysterious ways, his miracles to perform.”  It was a good enough explanation for the unknown in a less sophisticated time when man’s understanding was limited to things he could only observe with the inferior technologies of the day.
But in today’s world, we don’t often have to guess about the phenomena that surround us, and while there are certainly things for which we do not have an explanation, they grow fewer and fewer, day by day.  Where at one time man thought that the rolling thunder in the skies was a sign of a god’s displeasure, time and rational investigations revealed that what was once thought to be a supernatural event was actually very natural and easily explained.  Countless such examples exist, and mankind is enriched with each new disclosure, freeing his mind from the prisons of fear and doubt, allowing him to strive to find more and more explanations that make sense, rather than release the mind from its responsibility to question.  Rationality and scientific examinations shed light on the darkness of the world.
Today we see a backlash against this by those who’s simple understandings are threatened by rationality and empirical data.  They assert that despite all evidence to the contrary, their acceptance of a supernatural explanation of things they don’t understand trumps  the “less sexy” alternatives of reality.  In their mind, while surrounded by horses, the thundering of hoofbeats becomes a stampede of  zebras in stark black and white stripes, rejecting the myriad shades of gray that are the stuff of reality.  Their total disconnect with the evidences of rational explanation stand in contrast to the world around them, for while they reject what can (with effort) be proven and opt for the intellectual laziness of the accepting mind, they take sanctuary in ignorance.
While the evolution of all things is a reality that is accepted by an overwhelming number of intellectual minds, there are those who steadfastly adhere to the illogic of scriptural explanations for man’s being an existence.  In rejecting the premise that man is evolving, even when such overwhelming evidence is present and available for scrutiny they, themselves, might actually be an indicator of the evolutionary concept they reject.  It could well be that we are witnessing the evolution of man; a schism of species in which the mind capable of change and acceptance might be the mark of advancement, while that of the rejecting mind is the mark of decline.
The elevation of Homo Sapiens (Wise Man) to Homo Intellectus (Intellectual Man) might be symbolized by the realities of horses and zebras.

The Wisdom Gained In Silence

void-of-silence

by Jake Block

Take time to find wisdom in silence.  We spend too much time in our lives making sure that our voices are heard above the din, never realizing that they just can’t understand us, and we can’t understand them.  It’s what happens when everyone speaks and feels that their voice will somehow carry the day, FINALLY getting through to the masses that just never seem to “get it.”  While we’re speaking, we can’t hear them, and more importantly, we can’t hear OURSELVES.
The world has become an endless round of debates and petty squabbles over points of minutia that are of little consequence, although for the ferocity of the debates, one would think that the survival of the species was at stake.  Set aside some time each day to bask in silence.  Meditate… it doesn’t have to be some elaborate ritual.  Just find time to think.  The rest of the world will still be there when you are finished with your inner explorations.  Listen to that inner voice that we all have deep inside.  Contemplate the problems of the day without resorting to grandiose plans or hyperbolic visions of revolution, yourself at the head of the charge, waving the flag and charging headlong into… another charging crowd of flag-wavers?  Just think.  Think simply.  Think rationally.  Think “what if.”
There is wisdom to be gained in silence.  But first, you must be silent to hear it.

The Falcon In The Vortex

Falcon

by Jake Block

A falconer one day released his youngest fledgeling into the ferocious vortex of a storm to get its first kill.  It was almost immediately thrown violently to the ground by the storm and killed.  The falconer was confused, but thought that the bird should have done better in the hunt.  It was, after all, a falcon.

Satanists are a lot like falcons in that they are assumed to be capable simply by having adopted the title and chosen the appropriate costume, but like the fledgeling, simply being does not insure one’s safety or success in the storms that surround them.  While one may have a title and feel that it confers upon them some special place in the world, one would be wise to be aware of the perils of pretentiousness.   Bold quests and bold actions might bolster one’s confidence, but like the young fledgeling, without experience and testing, there is danger in diving headlong into a storm.
Many people think that simply by “becoming something,” that they automatically accrue the combined wisdom of the ages and the capabilities of those who have spent decades in that field.  It’s a product of this age of entitlement, in which everyone should be someone… we’re all special flowers upon whom the sun should shine.  I can’t think of a single thing worth having that isn’t worth striving for and taking the time to pay your dues to earn.  So, in light of the entitlement many seem to feel, is it any wonder that they seem to just “make it up as they go along,” and are unable to clearly define what it is that they believe in… although they believe in it fervently?  Often many will identify as “LaVeyan” Satanists out of some resonance with the name of a man who, arguably, put Satanism on the map in the 20th Century, but aside from The Satanic Bible, they know little of him and his message.  But surely, they read, “Satanism demands study—NOT worship.”   That’s important if one wishes to truly BE “LaVeyan.”
Study what?  Study EVERYTHING.  Glean what is important from the pages of everything you read.  Think about what you read and how you can apply it to your own benefit.  Economics… fashion… psychology… science… social trends… sexuality… history… all are fodder for those who would learn about life and human nature.  All are building blocks for a well rounded individual, but that is not to say that these are the only topics.  There are many, many more that you can mine for bits of information that you can use within your life, career and, when needed, discussions with others, should you feel so inclined.  There is an old phrase, “A jack of all trades.”  Strive to be that person who is well educated and well prepared to state your case and defend it well, without hubris and without resorting to mud-slinging or crassness.  Then, when you enter the vortex, you will be prepared to hunt, or to simply fly above the masses.
Fly falcon.  Fly.

To Err is Human

by Jake Block

Once in a while, you can find little snippets of the past that you thought were long lost, looking through personal documents.  This happened to me yesterday, while looking for an old military form that had some information I needed.  There it was, for some reason, wedged in between my paperwork of my Serviceman’s Group Life Insurance policy and my orders promoting me to Staff Sergeant.  I smiled, because I haven’t seen it in decades.  A single, type-witten page (PCs were still years away), it was one of the first things I ever wrote for The Church of Satan, way back in about 1974.  My apologies for the writing… I think after decades and many, many words and rewrites, I might have gotten a bit better at it.
“To Err is Human
Recently, while shopping at a well-known center, congested with shoving Christmas shoppers and squalling children, I wandered into a plaster-craft store to browse.  Inside were the usual craft kits, religious plaques and paints, along with  an assortment of typical shoppers who seemed to lift each item up for a closer inspection.
I roamed the aisles, aimlessly threading my way through the few people who were in the shop, thankful for this brief respite from the throng outside.  My thoughts were my own, and the moments passed quickly until I found myself glancing at a small plaque.  On the plaque were the words, “TO ERR IS HUMAN … TO FORGIVE IS NOT MY POLICY.”
I picked up the plaque and smiled, for it had struck to the core of my personal philosophy.  My personal revulsion for the creeds of forgiveness were summed up on that small plaque, and it pleased me that it was there for all the world to see.  A reminder that “forgive and forget” is not the motto of all, and there were still some men in this world of sheep who dared to cry out for vengeance and justice for the errors and transgressions of others.
We, as Satanists, are bound to the earth by our own choosing.  We, the masters, make no concessions as we stand our ground against the sea of self righteous adversaries who would love to see us fall.  They tell us that WE are misguided and that they, in their mercy, forgive us, but what are we forgiven for?  We have done nothing, save the sin (to them) of pride.  We have pride in ourselves and refuse to accept the forgiveness of man or god, for we know we are right.
Perhaps one day the rest of the world will forsake the paths of righteousness and pursue their self-satisfaction.  Then, forgiveness will become as foreign and archaic as the chastity belt.  Mankind will be forced to accept responsibility for his own actions, and when unable to accept forgiveness an unseen and uncaring god, will be forced to use common sense, for a welcomed change.  Until such time as mankind forsakes his creed of divine forgiveness, beware MY creed.  “To err is human … To forgive is not my policy.”
The Orders of The Sect of the Horned God

The Order of Pan
The Order of Cernunnos
The Order of Prometheus
The Order of Dionysis
The Order of Shiva

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