SATANISTA!

Someone handled me this and I want to share it with you. It's incredible that, throughout history, we have spotted the same problems and given the same solutions. Who will be the brave one to take the yonder step?

Futurist Manifesto of Lust
by Valentine de Saint-Point
11th January 1913


"A reply to those dishonest journalists who twist phrases to make the Idea seem ridiculous; to those women who only think what I have dared to say; to those for whom Lust is still nothing but a sin; to all those who in Lust can only see Vice, just as in Pride they see only vanity.


Lust, when viewed without moral preconceptions and as an essential part of life’s dynamism, is a force.

Lust is not, any more than pride, a mortal sin for the race that is strong. Lust, like pride, is a virtue that urges one on, a powerful source of energy.

Lust is the expression of a being projected beyond itself. It is the painful joy of wounded flesh, the joyous pain of a flowering. And whatever secrets unite these beings, it is a union of flesh. It is the sensory and sensual synthesis that leads to the greatest liberation of spirit. It is the communion of a particle of humanity with all the sensuality of the earth.

Lust is the quest of the flesh for the unknown, just as Celebration is the spirit’s quest for the unknown. Lust is the act of creating, it is Creation.

Flesh creates in the way that the spirit creates. In the eyes of the Universe their creation is equal. One is not superior to the other and creation of the spirit depends on that of the flesh.

We possess body and spirit. To curb one and develop the other shows weakness and is wrong. A strong man must realize his full carnal and spiritual potentiality. The satisfaction of their lust is the conquerors’ due. After a battle in which men have died, it is normal for the victors, proven in war, to turn to rape in the conquered land, so that life may be re-created.

When they have fought their battles, soldiers seek sensual pleasures, in which their constantly battling energies can be unwound and renewed. The modern hero, the hero in any field, experiences the same desire and the same pleasure. The artist, that great universal medium, has the same need. And the exaltation of the initiates of those religions still sufficiently new to contain a tempting element of the unknown, is no more than sensuality diverted spiritually towards a sacred female image.

Art and war are the great manifestations of sensuality; lust is their flower. A people exclusively spiritual or a people exclusively carnal would be condemned to the same decadence—sterility.
Lust excites energy and releases strength. Pitilessly it drove primitive man to victory, for the pride of bearing back a woman the spoils of the defeated. Today it drives the great men of business who run the banks, the press and international trade to increase their wealth by creating centers, harnessing energies and exalting the crowds, to worship and glorify with it the object of their lust. These men, tired but strong, find time for lust, the principal motive force of their action and of the reactions caused by their actions affecting multitudes and worlds.

Even among the new peoples where sensuality has not yet been released or acknowledged, and who are neither primitive brutes nor the sophisticated representatives of the old civilizations, woman is equally the great galvanizing principle to which all is offered. The secret cult that man has for her is only the unconscious drive of a lust as yet barely woken. Amongst these peoples as amongst the peoples of the north, but for different reasons, lust is almost exclusively concerned with procreation. But lust, under whatever aspects it shows itself, whether they are considered normal or abnormal, is always the supreme spur.

The animal life, the life of energy, the life of the spirit, sometimes demand a respite. And effort for effort’s sake calls inevitably for effort for pleasure’s sake. These efforts are not mutually harmful but complementary, and realize fully the total being.

For heroes, for those who create with the spirit, for dominators of all fields, lust is the magnificent exaltation of their strength. For every being it is a motive to surpass oneself with the simple aim of self-selection, of being noticed, chosen, picked out.
Christian morality alone, following on from pagan morality, was fatally drawn to consider lust as a weakness. Out of the healthy joy which is the flowering of the flesh in all its power it has made something shameful and to be hidden, a vice to be denied. It has covered it with hypocrisy, and this has made a sin of it.

We must stop despising Desire, this attraction at once delicate and brutal between two bodies, of whatever sex, two bodies that want each other, striving for unity. We must stop despising Desire, disguising it in the pitiful clothes of old and sterile sentimentality.
It is not lust that disunites, dissolves and annihilates. It is rather the mesmerizing complications of sentimentality, artificial jealousies, words that inebriate and deceive, the rhetoric of parting and eternal fidelities, literary nostalgia—all the histrionics of love.

We must get rid of all the ill-omened debris of romanticism, counting daisy petals, moonlight duets, heavy endearments, false hypocritical modesty. When beings are drawn together by a physical attraction, let them—instead of talking only of the fragility of their hearts—dare to express their desires, the inclinations of their bodies, and to anticipate the possibilities of joy and disappointment in their future carnal union.
Physical modesty, which varies according to time and place, has only the ephemeral value of a social virtue.

We must face up to lust in full conciousness. We must make of it what a sophisticated and intelligent being makes of himself and of his life; we must make lust into a work of art. To allege unwariness or bewilderment in order to explain an act of love is hypocrisy, weakness and stupidity.

We should desire a body consciously, like any other thing.

Love at first sight, passion or failure to think, must not prompt us to be constantly giving ourselves, nor to take beings, as we are usually inclined to do so due to our inability to see into the future. We must choose intelligently. Directed by our intuition and will, we should compare the feelings and desires of the two partners and avoid uniting and satisfying any that are unable to complement and exalt each other.

Equally conciously and with the same guiding will, the joys of this coupling should lead to the climax, should develop its full potential, and should permit to flower all the seeds sown by the merging of two bodies. Lust should be made into a work of art, formed like every work of art, both instinctively and consciously.

We must strip lust of all the sentimental veils that disfigure it. These veils were thrown over it out of mere cowardice, because smug sentimentality is so satisfying. Sentimentality is comfortable and therefore demeaning.

In one who is young and healthy, when lust clashes with sentimentality, lust is victorious. Sentiment is a creature of fashion, lust is eternal. Lust triumphs, because it is the joyous exaltation that drives one beyond oneself, the delight in posession and domination, the perpetual victory from which the perpetual battle is born anew, the headiest and surest intoxication of conquest. And as this certain conquest is temporary, it must be constantly won anew.

Lust is a force, in that it refines the spirit by bringing to white heat the excitement of the flesh. The spirit burns bright and clear from a healthy, strong flesh, purified in the embrace. Only the weak and sick sink into the mire and are diminished. And lust is a force in that it kills the weak and exalts the strong, aiding natural selection.

Lust is a force, finally, in that it never leads to the insipidity of the definite and the secure, doled out by soothing sentimentality. Lust is the eternal battle, never finally won. After the fleeting triumph, even during the ephemeral triumph itself, reawakening dissatisfaction spurs a human being, driven by an orgiastic will, to expand and surpass himself.

Lust is for the body what an ideal is for the spirit—the magnificent Chimaera, that one ever clutches at but never captures, and which the young and the avid, intoxicated with the vision, pursue without rest.

Lust is a force."

Posted by Rev. Jakob Koshkat at 5:12 PM | Permalink | Comments

I chose to wear the Prince of Darkness like early punk-rockers used to wear a Swastika: to shock, to scare, to create some chaos around and as a convention for others, just as fed up with the status quo as I am, to find me. We don't need a revolution. Think of the angry peasants waving banners in verbatim pictography of the French Revolution. Fuck all martyrs. Burn every single flag in the world. Play every national anthem backwards and you'll realize they've got Evil messages. Play them forward and it's just the same. Anthems and flags will make you kill the ones you love. We don't need a revolution, but... when was the last time you stirred things up for shits and giggles?

People are about to lose the last bit of comedy they've got. See, it's been years since the last time I had a honest laughter while watching the TV. The fact that someone chose to record laughters to play them at the end of a stupidly obvious punchline says a lot about conductism. When someone laughs from the bottom of their hearts, it's contagious. Nothing is funny anymore, since everything we've taken for granted is full of incense and patchouli and floating in an ether of sanctity. Try to crack a joke about terrorism abortion, rape, cancer, AIDS and you'll physically feel the indignation stomping on you. We are so afraid, we are so goddamn afraid of the world outside we cringe whenever these demons are invoked and you can feel their brimstone breath on the back of your neck... and then you know (no, you remember) you're going to die. Eventually. We learned to laugh out of fear, like slaves.

Being a child in this world is a deathwish. Those who don't want to asphyxiate you with pointless attempts of "building some structure" would hurt you, rape you, kill you or simply ignore you. Kids, if you don't start thinking for yourselves, you're fucked. And yes, I believe in the powers of foul language and expletives. They are effective, they convey the idea immediatly and every kid should know about the real meaning, ethimology and use of these. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckitty fuck. There, I said it and I hope a 6-years old reads this and asks about it just to put his/her parents on dire straits.

Speaking of parenting and procreation: People should have more sex in their lives and less of it in their TV screens. I don't know if you remember this, but beauty is precisely that because it's unique and inherent to every person. It only takes an innocent stroll to the mall to see all these clones, made of silicone and skin, trying to suck from the blood of whatever celebrity they want to resemble. Some of them are appealing, but I believe I just can't answer their mating rituals because I was taught of some beauty standards and it's a knee-jerk reaction to turn my head and stare. If that beauty is not sustained with a brain and a lust for life, then it feels like having sex with a cottonballs' bag.

So I put my hand in Satan's shoulder and take the case.

I've had it with the reek that emanates from these righteous people that would beat their children to make them good Christians. I've had it with regimes that suck all the fun out of whatever's appealing in life. I'm angry, and only Satan understands me and handles me a warm cup of chai whenever I'm wandering when did everything and everyone became so dull. He's the first one to pull out my yearbooks and point all the guys I used to consider brilliant and funny (as opposed to run into them nowadays, troubled by their little treshold of choices and lack of imagination...). He's the one who tells me to screw it, I should have more of that pasta and more wine and then a desert afterwards.. And, as aware that he's just a symbolic entity used to represent the dark side of our psychology as he is, he KNOWS he's right and he doesn't give two shits about anyone who blames him for whatever's wrong. The Devil didn't make you do it... you did it and you cannot hold yourself responsible for it.

Satan treats me fine, so he doesn't charge me for wearing his effigy.

People have ignored something throughout the last years: even the darkest corner of our minds wants us to be happy. Sometimes it manifests with impossible and violent fantasies, but once you embrace them (as fantasies and daydreaming, only that), you feel relieved. The Fouth Stooge, Satan, the unthinkable and unspokable is the part that struggles against a reality that's turning sour. We try to access it through rituals and magic and we use whatever iconography suits us the best because WE KNOW there is a fourth point, something we cannot think of throug reason. Every single cell of our organism wants us to live.

Even when we picture a thousand bloody deaths for our boss/teacher/couple, it's our brain trying to give us symbollic solutions. The ones who have a rather morbid sense of humor, understand this because it's just a series of images, not a wish or a fantasy or anything that might happen in reality. Our demons are always looking for a leak to escape because they know best. Sadly, these bastards are quite a disorganized bunch so rituals and magic and symbols are needed to control them. Insted of ignoring them, we embrace them.

There's nothing new in all this. We all do, we all take a deep breath and count to ten to vanish the anger. Some of us have burned love letters when love runs dry. We use these transactions most of the time, yet we don't use them to reach the hard spots in our brain. We can transform and alter our reality, our perception. But we chose not to, because we are scared shitless.

The world became a mean place. Well... it's always been. Our ancestors feared the shadows and the darkness because, to them, that was the point outside the Triad. But we created light out of energy and our fears are different. We are afraid to be exposed as the wretches we are. There's a satellite taking pictures of us, the FBI monitors our Internet consumptions and walls have ears. We handled our phobias and fears to institutions so they take care of them. Fear is a signal... how are we supposed to know we're in real danger if, first of all, we live in a constant state of paranoia and, second, we let them push our buttons whenever they feel like? It's easier to have someone else worrying about it instead of us so, whenever the signal's given, we shriek in panic. Like playing "Simon sez".

I'm a nice guy. I just tend to differ about the definition of "nice".

Posted by Rev. Jakob Koshkat at 6:53 PM | Permalink | Comments

In Euclydian geometry, three points define a plane. According to Eastern traditions, number four is a number linked to the inauspicious. A Taoist premise says that "One generates number Two, Two generates number Three and Three generates everything". Christian tradition synthesizes the Theological entity as a trinity (Father, Son, Holy Guacamole). Hegelian dialectics take this Law of Three to the realm of logic and reason (thesis, antithesis and synthesis, which is the result of the dynamics between the two first... to make a long story short).

If you take a deep look (or just a well-intended glimpse), you'll notice that language (and culture, the sum of all languages) operates within the confines of these three points. The space visually drawn by these three blind mice holds all we know, think and speak about the world.

But number four is inauspicious and infused with ookiespookie connotations. The fouth point is located in that place that exceeds our language and comprehension (be it logical of physical). Traditional magic (and theological) systems accept the Rule of Three as a means to affect reality.

... yet there is a fourth path we have consciously neglected for pragmatical purposes since it evades any dialectic.

Have you ever wondered if there was a Fourth Stooge?

When I was a kid, I used to watch reruns from the Three Stooges and, as a kid, I found their slapstick comedy hillarious. Bear in mind: I never was an average kid, so I used to find funny some things my contemporaries would never laugh at. Years went by and then I realized that Hegelian dialectics applied to the dynamics between Curly (or Shemph, or Curly Joe), Larry and Moe: Moe was the thesis (the leader with a purpose), Curly was the antithesis (the fool whose idiocy opposed to Moe's purpose) and Larry was the synthesis (the bona-fide compadre, who attempted to help to the compleition of Moe's purpose and tried to control Curly's enthropic foolishness). But I recently tried to imagine how would it be if there was a Fourth Stooge.

Abandon all hope all Ye who would answer: "Well... it'd be called the Four Stooges!".

In a world of Platonic lights and shadows, there are little chances to experiment this unknown realm. There is something I called the "poetic void", which is the substance we try to reach through magic, science and most of our disciplines.

Yet we remain restricted by our dychothomy between Good and Bad, Light and Shadows and their endless semantics. Ok, some have accepted there are gradients between these two, but these gradients are still subjected to the Law of Three. 0=2 (a Taoist equation on which balance is the result of positive 1 plus negative 1, yet it underlines the need of these two basic principles... that's pretty much the Law of Three...)

However, these pants are too tight for some of us to wear. Our Western Judeo-Christian tradition is a tight pair of slacks with no space for our crotch. Whatever's outside the three cardinal points, the Holy Trinity (The ether of the Father, the earthly trascendance of the Son and the widespread sanctimonious hoo-haa of the Holy Guacamole) is evil and it will eat your soul and make you kill babies in the name of whatever demon you can pronounce from the Solomon's Clefs and make you buy more Black Eyed Peas albums! Beware! Trespassing these boundaries will make your testicles swallow (even if you're a girl), will give you bad breath and make you an insurance salesman for all eternity!

The fourth point is Satan. It's kind of arbitrary, but that's how we've been taught. Whatever steps out of the triangle, is evil by default. No wonder witch trials during the Inquisition were so... arbitrary, to say the least. It was Catch 22... wether you were proven a witch or not, you'd die, since you no longer were inside the Triad and that made you a paradox, an abomination. If you didn't put your left foot in in the Holy Hokey-Pokey, you could pretty much kiss your ass goodbye.

See, that's one of the many reasons I have to loathe the use of Inverted Christian paraphernalia (aside of the lack of finesse of some wanton Satanists, to begin with). Blasphemy traps us inside the cultural triangle. Even though the prophane use of Holy imagery is a great way to shut some fundamentalists up and have some kicks, it should be used carefully as a belligerance tool and shold NEVER be used in rituals, in my opinion. Remember: it takes the same amount of faith to step on a cross or to kiss it. And if your faith is placed in something else besides your own might, skills and knowledge, how do you expect to experiment all the mysteries outside the triangle?

Through a silly game of associations, I realized that I could actually imagine the Fourth Stooge. He was just like Iggy Pop: a frantic, energetic entertainer, willing to indulge in some of the most ludicruous antics to amuse the audience. Imagine that: while Curly (or Shemp or Curly Joe), Larry and Moe were stuck and restricted to their usual slapstick grimoire, Iggy would roll in broken glass, spread himself with peanut butter and get naked to the audience's surprise and disgust... and maybe, to the audience's surprise and delight...

Then again: Abandon all hope all Ye who would think and say "Iggy and The Stooges? Dude, that's so faaaaar out, maaaaaan!"

So, here's another ritual, complimentary to the "Wash and Wear Conscience ritual".

******The Ookiespookie Invocation of the Fourth Stooge******

The intention of this ritual is to celebrate and, in some way, experience the Fouth Dimension of Reason in a guttural, sensorial way. Since this ritual is kind of abrassive, it is adviced to White Light magicians to draw a protection circle and be quite meticulous with the further cleansing rituals. As usual, these rituals lean towards Satanic magic but can be adapted to other denominations.

Remember that rituals work as a circuit: There is a source of energy (be it an element, a deity, a demon or the warlock's/witch's own energy), a conductor (the invocations and use of symbols) which lead to a result (think of a lightbulb getting lit), a switch to control the flow of energy (the opening and closing of the ritual) and some isolation (usually, the banishing rituals or some magick ascepsia is in order).

For this ritual you need:

- A Gong or a rich, resonating bell.

- Elixir. I strongly suggest one of my own, which I call "Sweet Tooth"

On a whiskey glass, dip two or three spoonfuls of maple syrup (if you can get natural Vermont or Canadian maple syrup, even better. If not, regular Aunt Jemima will do. Whatever you do, STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM DIET SYRUPS OR BUTTER-FLAVORED SYRUPS! the foretaste is nasty!), then fill with bourbon (Jack Daniels is the best suited for this purposes... any bourbon will do. Don't try to use Scotch, since it's a bloody shame to take a 12-years bottle and mix it with anything.). Remember to be wise: If you're gonna drink, don't drive. Like George Carlin said: "Instead of warning pregnant women not to drink, I think female alcoholics should be told not to fuck".

- Something to eat afterwards. A table of cheeses, smoked meats, red fruits (such as red apples, strawberries, cherries...) and prosciutto goes perfectly well.

- Cinnamon incense sticks.

- Music. To honor the Fourth Stooge, I'd suggest "Raw Power". What a great record...

- Some elegant attire is in order. Personally, I think robes and cloaks are attached to certain Medieval aesthetic which is counter-productive, since it reinforces the Law of Three. Instead of hoods, you should go for animal masks so you can freely express yourself throughout the ritual's peak.

- Candles. Red and purple candles are the best choice. If your affiliations demand black and/or white candles, observe the protocols but make sure there are plenty of colored candles to light the room.

The ritual starts with the Gong or bell rung nine times by the officing Priest/Priestess or both, in unison. Proper invocations are made, the elixir is shared in a toast.

The Priest/Priestess reads aloud:

"Within the confines of the Triangle
I have realized that my Spirit
can no longer feed from Light or Shadows
nor from the boundaries of both.

(If there's a congregation, they should repeat every line after it's read After each passage is repeated, the congregation must hit the table with the right hand four times in a marching demeanor, building up speed and passion as the ritual is performed).

They taught me that all the colors
that have embellished my life
are nothing but black and white
and all that is between.

They have confined me
within their dogmas
and their fears
and put a price to my head.

They have confined me
within three cardinal points
that lead nowhere.
that lead towards a void.

They have turned gold into charcoal
and silver into lead.
I can no longer taste with pleasure
the fruits from the Tree of Wisdom.

(The Priest/Priestess reads with building crescendo. It is expected that the congregation will follow with bursting passion.)

Well, foul game won't hold me back!
No veils will fool my sight!
I shall escape from the three-cornered prison!
I shall see what no one ever dared to look in the eye!

For I spit in the face of fear!
I won't pay for the Truth I deserve!
It is my privilege as a miracle of creation
to revel in this hidden realm!

I demand to see the Truth!
I demand to see the Truth!
I demand to see the Truth!
I demand to see the Truth!

For I shall not fear what's real!
For I shall not fear what's real!
For I shall NOT FEAR WHAT'S REAL!
FOR I SHALL NOT FEAR WHAT'S REAL!

SHUU-RAAH!
SHUU-RAAH!
SHUU-RAAH!
SHUU-RAAH!

(The "SHUU-RAAH!" passage is repeated four times, with guttural gusto, rolling the bowels. This exclamation is just a phonetic way to de-attach from linguistic thoughts and induce some bravado amongst the congregation or in solitary rituals. It has no real meaning, it's just some kind of an abrassive mantra. Once certain levels of exhaustion arise and consciousness seems partially defeated by a trance, the Priest/Priestess reads:)

I will never go back,
yet I'll wander through the ruins
of the forge, that once was my prison,
in peace.

I will never forget,
that there is a fourth side
that lives within me,
through and around me.

My mind is fertile again,
open in virginal expectation
to quiet sunsets
and vibrant sundawns.

(The Priest/Priestess says "so it is done" and rings the Gong or bell nine times. The Elixir is served for everyone as they get ready to eat and have a pleasant evening. If the "Wash And Wear Conscience" is performed beforehand, the Gong or bell will be rung ony after both of the rituals are performed and the Elixir will only be served once... we don't want to puke in our most diabolically sexy attire or inside our piggy mask, do we?).

There you go. I hope you like your flirt with the Fourth Stooge.

VINCIT!

Y.I.S.

Rev. Jakob Koshkat

Posted by Rev. Jakob Koshkat at 10:55 AM | Permalink | Comments

Look around you. Haven't you noticed how dreadfully wrong everything is? No one seems to be happy about being alive. You're a miracle of nature, the most beautiful thing you'll ever find, but you seem to be unhappy for no reason. That's reality. That's your reason.

Reality, from a Nietzsche-influenced perspective, is something we agreed to be real, in order to have a common ground that has allowed our race to subsist. But we forgot that reality is something we can sew and unsew every single night. We take so many things for granted, we take axioms and premises like sleeping pills. Think of Liz Taylor: see how she's choking on white pills and washing them down with martinis? That's how bad our compulsion for dogma is.

Ok, the rules we've stablished in order to determine "reality" allowed us to survive to a certain extent. Some of you don't live. There's a thin difference between "surviving" and living.

There's an even thicker demographic density. We reproduce and reproduce and reproduce, yet the land doesn't grow any bigger. We're stuck in this world like sardines in a can. I ask you: of all these, who are entitled to LIVE instead of surviving? I can even hear that little voice in your head saying "the strong will prevail". Follow that voice, that's your guardian devil. People tend to live a lot more. I don't really agree: they die at an elder age... but some of them are dead inside their shell.

To answer this rhetorical question: the only ones who deserve to live are the ones that want to live. Ascetism, dogma and submission to any ideals beyond ours are just death wishes.

I abhor the wanton Satanist that keeps talking about death and destruction and surrounds himself with thanatological paraphernalia. I don't find death and decay shocking, it's just one of those things you have to deal with. But I try to stay away from people that find death more interesting than Life. In most of the cases, the fetishist fixation for it is just guilt and fear finding relief and redemption in the symbolic demise of one's self. It's just as stupid as wearing inverted crosses - come on, we owe a lot to early Pagan cultures... these people were some hairy bastards who knew how to party. As "exciting" as thanatology might be, lest we never forget that death offices are for us, the living, to honor the memory of those who die. We don't celebrate death, we celebrate our life and the afterlife of the death in our memory and his or her deeds.

There is no redemption in death aside of dying to let other people live and let the Earth feed of our organic goods. If you want to die, then you deserve to die. Some of us still find this world (regardless of how dull our Christian, Neo-Liberal, guilt-ridden institutions are trying to make it) exciting, full of pleasures and interesting people...

... well... a FEW interesting people, yet worth to know. See, when you're dead is kind of hard to meet people.

Honor your life by LIVING IT. Don't let anyone to fill your cup with guilt and repression. Dr. LaVey said that Life is the great indulgence and Death, the great abstinence. Some people think they've reached a certain level of illumination, so carnal life has no meaning. I say: maybe, just MAYBE, enlightment comes in the shape of an orgasm, a hearty meal, a good cup of sake, a great song. How are you supposed to reach this so-called illumination if you chose to be an undead? Shit, at least Vampires and Zombies and Werewolves and Ghosts are reflections of our innermost carnal desires. Fakirs and holy-guacamole martyrs died long before they could actualy experience the Light. If there's any, it will come through our senses.

So fuck dogmas. Wash the redeeming blood from my shirt, would you?

In the meantime, here's a little ritual for you.

******THE WASH AND WEAR CONSCIENCE RITUAL******

The intention of this ritual is to cleanse your mind from all the unhealthy and stupid programs some institutions have written within your brain. You can do it, even if you follow the White Light Path (no spirits were harmed in the realization of this ritual). Remember that rituals, aside (and more than) alligning us with certain forces, offer the chance to de-compress from preconception and allow our Inner Self (ego, soul, pneuma, ki, the lil' boy inside us...) to operate in ways we consciously can't. Although this ritual can be performed in solitude, it is strongly encouraged to peform it with some good company. Also remember that good (not white or black) magick comes from the warlock/witch, not from other deities and spirits.

MATERIALS:

- A gong. Even a bell will do, but try to use a deep-resonating one.

- An elixir. Any good beverage will do. Although it is common to use alcohol, the use of juices, herbal infussions and coffee drinks will work too. Remember: be wise... if you're gonna drive, don't drink alcohol or psycho-active herbal infussions.

- Something to eat. I'd strongly suggest this recipe:

Take some good and firm Mozarella cheese and cut it into 1 in. squares and put in the freezer for a couple of hours. Make some nice coconut milk (1 cup) and fried flour (take 1 cup of wheat flour to a hot pan until it's golden and has a nice, warm, breadlike smell) batter. Add salt, pepper and spice to taste (nutmeg, chili, cumin and cardamom are good choices... you can try different combinations). Take the cheese out of the freezer, dip it in the batter and fry in a few cups of sunflower oil (it must be really hot, yet not smoking). When it's golden, take out and put over some absorbing paper. Serve with toothpicks to pick and dip on a sweet sauce: (for instance: half a cup mango or apple juice, half a cup orange juice, half a cup chardonnay, roasted peppers, cashews, salt and pepper to taste. Put the apple or mango juice first on mid temperature wok, let it reduce... then add the orange juice and let it reduce as well. Add the wine, the peppers in brunoisse and the crushed cashews. Add the sugar and let it on the stove until it gets a syrup-like texture).

- Cinnamon incense sticks.

- A table and as many seats as people you have for the ritual.

- As many candles as needed. Depending on your affiliations, the colors of these candles may vary. Although, let's face it: black, purple and red candles are more suited for this ritual.

- Music. Angry, martial, pounding music for the first part of the ritual (Rammstein's a good choice). and soothing, sensual, sexy music for the end of it (I'd go for La Floa Maldita here... but the "sexy" definition may vary).

The ritual starts with all the performers around the table, sit in their chairs. The Gong is rung nine times by the officing Priest or Priestess (or both, in unison). The Incense is lit. The proper invocations are made, the elixir is shared by the congregation in a toast. )

"He, who denies the flesh
and advocates for the self-destruction
is the real enemy"

(if performed in a group, the others shall repeat after every line is read)

"He, who denies the Humanity
as a means to remain pure
is my enemy"

"He, who immolates himself in life
and looks at us with desdain
is the real fiend"

(the following lines must be vibrated with growing passion)

"I will scream his names at the bleeding top of my lungs!
I will wrap his false halo around his feeble neck!
I will drag him by his drapes so everyone sees the wretch he is!
So everyone smells the hypocrisy in his acts!
The venom in his thoughts!
For you, the Living Dead,
the absent of Life's cornucupia,
the vinegar in the glass of the world
are my mortal foe!
And I shall not rest
until you, the sanctimonious liars,
the ship of fools
and all of your kind
are vanished!
Through reason or force!
Through wine and iron!
I shall not rest!

(at this point, everyone should scream at the top of their lungs in sheer indignation and disgust. Once some exhaustion levels arise, the Priest/Priestess reads, in soothing voice. Repetition from the congregation is optional at this point)

"My heart is fertile again,
and free from the poison
my enemy fed me.
I shall only live
to please my body,
to please my mind.

My heart is fertile and open
in virginal expectation
to quiet sunsets
and vibrant sundawns"

(The Priest/Priestess says "So it is done" and the congregation answers likewise. The Gong is rung nine times. More elixir is served and people get ready to eat and have fun).

So this is it. Enjoy.

Y.I.S.

Rev. Jakob Koshkat.

Posted by Rev. Jakob Koshkat at 4:42 PM | Permalink | Comments

Hi. I'm Rev. Jakob Koshkat. Welcome to "Satanista!", a Blog project that celebrates magic, culture, cuisine, sex and hedonism.

Say tuned for more.

Posted by Rev. Jakob Koshkat at 10:07 PM | Permalink | Comments