Love is the Law

* A response to two now deleted articles written by a certain neurotic and obsessed internet user who goes by the nym Kerri Scott and who regularly posts on Wyrd Sisters WordPress blog.

Oh my God, I’ve just realized Christmas is coming. And what is the better time for showing your love not only to your loved ones but also enemies? Now, there are some people here who I kept quarrelling with, on the forums and on WordPress, and who apparently keep reading every fucking post I make not only on my blog but also in the comment sections of other people’s blogs. Recently, it was Darryl’s blog.

I’m really flattered by some claims that my posts or the discussions with me helped to move the O9A from one phase to another and helped Papa Myatt and his buddies to recruit at least a few new members. I don’t know what Darryl’s opinion re all of his debates is but I’m personally honored. In the not so distant past I was quite a dedicated member of Satannet forum and I never heard from Magistra Nadramia, who was its admin, a compliment that I helped her Church of Satan flourish or that she attracted new candidates thanks to my rants on her forum.

Now, all comedy aside, and in all seriousness, I don’t even have a glimmer of hope that this time I will manage to get my point across to the brick wall since I couldn’t do that for more than three years. Some people will not understand you because they do not want to understand you. And no persuasions or explanations will help. But I know that some readers stumble upon this blog, accidentally or  not, especially on those O9A related posts, so here are a few words of explanation.

All of my posts here and in the forums present my personal opinions and my view on various topics. I have never claimed otherwise. Others can agree or disagree with my pespective or ignore it altogether or laugh it off or whatever.

Contrary to what some maniacal people have been saying for years, I have never claimed being an expert on the O9A. In fact, I’m not an expert on anything. However, I believe that if one has doubts about the claims of others, one can or even should question them, no matter the credentials the people making claims present. That concerns discussions in general. Confrontation is the way to unmask the bullshit, not necessarily to  feel like a winner but also to learn by interaction and by questioning things. Some people are liars, some are trolls, and even seemingly or actually intelligent people can talk out of their asses on several occassions. Moreover, there is not even one human being who didn’t talk out of his or her ass more than once. So take everything you hear or read with a pinch of salt.

I aint proud. I freely express my views because this is what we have forums and blogs for. But I consider myself an ordinary user of those venues and nothing more. I have the same attitude to other users. I admire nobody. I can consider someone smart but that doesn’t mean I regard them as free of bullshit. Nobody is free of bullshit. If you’re convinced by your opponents’ arguments in a discussion and you admit you were wrong, kudos to you. If you simply break under the emotional pressure, consider yourself spineless. You’re probably one of those people who are afraid to ask the employer for a day off, not to mention a pay-rise. The society will appreciate your humble attitude. Just avoid Russians. They will kill you. And don’t go on a trip to North Korea because you won’t be coming back.

That’s all for today. And Merry XMas everybody.

Distinguishing the Bullshitter


Mademoiselle Baphomet and her cats

How to recognize a bullshitter? It’s not a mystery that the bullshitters have some qualities of character that differentiate them from the non-bullshitters. Their behavior and the techniques of social engineering they use also make them different. And although to the uninitiated, the bullshitter may appear to be a genius, in fact all bullshitters are the same, indulging in similar shenanigans inspired by the cheap and popular “Manipulation for the Dummies” psychology handbooks.

So here are the typical unique machinations of a bullshitter. Since gender equality is trendy sinister, both pronouns, he and she, will be used to ensure the fair treatment of both sexes. After all, the bullshitters come in both male and female forms.

Ad nauseam

If you repeat a lie often enough, it becomes the truth, Goebbels said. The bullshitter will repeat her bullshit over and over again, ignoring and dismissing all the arguments to the contrary. She will repeat the bullshit like a mantra or a political slogan:

Women are the victims of the patriarchy.

Women are the victims of the patriarchy.

Women are the victims of the patriarchy.

Women are the victims of the patriarchy.

Women are the victims of the patriarchy.

Women are the victims of the patriarchy…

Till everyone goes zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…


The bullshitter will choose the facts and arguments that support her bogus theory while ignoring all those that contradict it. She will overgeneralize and twist facts to make her bogus point. All males are bullies. Satanism is just Might is Right. Your paradigm is all about Machiavelli etc.

Argument from intimidation

Fear is one of the basic and primal motivations behind human behavior so the bullshitter will try to scare everyone into accepting his bullshit by saying that everyone who disagrees with him is stupid and that every wise person will accept his claims. He will keep chest beating and blowing his own trumpet and at the same time trying to shame, discourage and put down his opponents. When in a relationship, the bullshitter will use emotional blackmail, threatening to leave if the victim doesn’t give in and have sex with him.

Appeal to vanity

This fairy tale sums it up:

A Fox once saw a Crow fly off with a piece of cheese in its beak and settle on a branch of a tree.

     “That’s for me, as I am a Fox,” said Master Reynard, and he walked up to the foot of the tree.

“Good day, Mistress Crow,” he cried. “How well you are looking today: how glossy your feathers; how bright your eye. I feel sure your voice must surpass that of other birds, just as your figure does; let me hear but one song from you that I may greet you as the Queen of Birds.”

The Crow lifted up her head and began to caw her best, but the moment she opened her mouth the piece of cheese fell to the ground, only to be snapped up by Master Fox.

“That will do,” said he. “That was all I wanted. In exchange for your cheese I will give you a piece of advice for the future: “Do not trust flatterers.”

The Devil is a gentleman

The bullshitter will pretend to be your friend. She will be very civil, kind and will appear reasonable. She will try to convince you to accept her bullshit, all the time trying to stay calm and well-mannered. But once the bullshitter’s bullshit is exposed, the following reactions can be observed:

Self-righteous indignation

How dare you accuse me of dishonesty?!!! The bullshitter will become downright hostile, if not furious. She will get either passive-aggressive or resort to shouting and direct insults.


The bullshitter will tell you that you are paranoid since you are not able to trust him.

If the bullshit is hard to be denied, the bullshitter will resort to:

You don’t know me

The bullshitter will try to downplay his machinations by diverting your attention from them, by focusing on more favorable traits of his character, on his past deeds. He will try to make you feel guilty for misunderstanding him and not appreciating the depths of his soul.

Why did you sleep with this woman? How could you?

But darling, do you remember our honeymoon? What about our love? The gifts I gave you? And flowers and hugs and kisses?

But you fucked another wo…

But honey, the bullshitter will interrupt you, it’s just nothing. It’s not important. She’s nothing to me. It was just sex, nothing more. It’s our love that matters. Why worry about such trivial things?

You’re a liar! You’ve always been a liar!

So is that all you see in me? I’m just a liar to you? How disappointing. You’re blind. If you could only see my heart and all the love I have for you, then you wouldn’t judge me by one affair. Perhaps, finally I will find a woman who will appreciate and love me for who I truly am.

And the bullshitter will start crying. Then, he will go away and find another stupid chick to play Don Juan with.

Further studies:



The Circle of the Fallen


Rene Magritte

The whole idea of mutual admiration societies and inner circles within the established cults in the context of Satanism makes me raise my eyebrows. I can understand one can set up a cool kids’ club or join one to peddle one’s agenda but more often than not it’s just an excuse for seeking validation, often at the cost of one’s own interests. How the hell (pun intended) can one claim to embody the archetype of Satan and, at the same time, seek peer approval? Or try hard to please people in order to join their clique? How the hell can one claim to be sinister and, at the same time, follow the Master and Mistress and take what they say at face value? How the hell can one claim to express the genuine essence of Satanism while jumping on the hate bandwagon?

Milton’s Satan was kicked out of the most prestigious and elitist club, called Heaven. In spite of that, he remained proud and arrogant, and defiant. Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven. So how can you act against your own interests or betray your own Self just to win someone’s approval, especially if that someone behaves in a rather tasteless manner? People can’t even lie properly. They will bad-mouth you and, if that doesn’t work, they will shower you with insincere praises and dishonest compliments. I like you but, please, talk shit about person X or person Y. You have to be totally deluded to accept unfounded praise, to fancy yourself a special snowflake, even more special than other special snowflakes. All people are the same in their belief they are unique and better than others.

How full of shit one must be to judge another person after one meeting or, worse, on the basis of their writings? And those delusional people claim to have the skill of “esoteric empathy”, whatever the fuck that means for them. You’re not full of wisdom, you’re full of shit, trying to figure out the nature of the person by the way they write. It’s easy to categorize people, make assumptions and cast unfounded judgements left and right. Who the fuck cares about the personality of the writer? Maybe he’s a total asshole, maybe she’s a stupid bitch. Who knows? And who cares? If you write well, then you write well. If your writings are lame, then they are lame. Your life is your business. If your judgement of other people is questionable, then you’re fooling no one that you know what empathy is.

If I appreciate someone’s writings or artwork, I have no problem with admitting it. I don’t think my crown will fall because of that even if someone writes better than me. The character of the writer/artist is irrelevant just like whether I personally like him/her or not, whether we are buddies or not. Who cares about your drama, about your personal bullshit, your jealousy and your inner “esoteric order”? It’s as exciting as the shit in a plastic bag, a herd of sheep patting each other on the back, a prime example of mindless conformity.


Hell Is Other People

Picture 21

Sartre in his play “No Exit” describes his unique vision of hell. It’s an ordinary room in Second Empire style, the style that the characters/victims find quite repelling. There are no tortures there apart from one; other people constantly watching and judging you.

Garcin, Estella and Inez have no eyelids, they are forced to stare at each other for eternity, mercilessly judging each other’s crimes, weaknesses and sins, shattering each other’s self-deceptive illusions. The light never goes off and there are no mirrors so the condemned victims can’t see themselves but watch themselves through other people’s eyes. This penetrating gaze of others judges and defines their very Essence. They exist only as part of other people’s narrative.

The absence of mirrors is particularly troubling to Estelle, who without seeing herself in the mirror is not even sure she exists. She’s not conscious of herself:

When I can’t see myself I begin to wonder if I really and truly exist. I pat myself just to make sure, but it doesn’t help much.
So Inez offers her own eyes as a mirror. Estelle looks into Inez’ eyes and doesn’t recognize herself. Inez’ eyes are like a warped mirror showing Estelle as grotesquely small so she can’t see herself properly but Inez assures her that she sees her clearly and will answer all of her questions:

ESTELLE: Oh, I’m there! But so tiny I can’t see myself properly.

INEZ: But I can. Every inch of you. Now ask me questions. I’ll be as candid as any looking-glass.

But Inez acting as a mirror is far from objective and Estelle knows that, asking herself:

How can I rely upon your taste? Is it the same as my taste?… I’m going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become!

Inez lies to her saying she has a pimple on her face, she mocks her and boasts she has a total power over her. Estelle is at her mercy as she’s not conscious of herself and has to rely on Inez to define herself. Allowing Inez Inez to define her being, she’s under her control. Without her she doesn’t even exist:

You know the way they catch larks—with a mirror? I’m your lark-mirror, my dear, and you can’t escape me. . . . There isn’t any pimple, not a trace of one. So what about it? Suppose the mirror started telling lies? Or suppose I covered my eyes—as he is doing—and refused to look at you, all that loveliness of yours would be wasted on the desert air.
Other people are like warped mirrors showing a grotesque image of us. This image is far from true and objective, yet by overemphasizing the ugly things, it shatters the illusions we have about ourselves. Only Inez is honest with herself. She is able to admit her guilt to herself and others and take responsibility for it. She knows what she did wrong and why she is in hell. She has no illusions about her own life and she’s the only one who is always conscious of herself. Other sinners, Garcin and Estella, delude and deceive themselves and each other, saying they are innocent. They desperately try to turn their crimes into virtues. Garcin was accused of desertion and shot. He refused to fight because he was a pacifist. Should he be punished for being loyal to his values? When he tries to pose as a brave idealist he hears his friends on earth calling him a coward. Inez also sees his true dark motives and tells him that he is simply a coward:
Exactly. That’s the question. Was that your real motive? No doubt you argued it out with yourself, you weighed the pros and cons, you found good reasons for what you did. But fear and hatred and all the dirty little instincts one keeps dark— they’re motives too. So carry on, Mr. Garcin, and try to be honest with yourself– for once.
Estelle’s lover shot himself, because she refused to leave her husband. Is it a sin to be faithful to your husband? She tries to cheat herself that her motives were noble. But Garcin and Inez strip her bare and reveal her cruelty and egotism. She treated men as her playthings and murdered her own child.
If other people are your mirrors and judges, if you only exist as an object they gaze upon, then you must find at least one person who has a positive opinion about you. It’s the only way to salvation for the person who is not conscious of his/her own being:
GARCIN: A thousand of them are proclaiming I’m a coward; but what do numbers matter? If there’s someone, just one person, to say quite positively I did not run away, that I’m not the sort who runs away, that I’m brave and decent and the rest of it– well, that one person’s faith would save me.
Garcin is unable to judge himself and take responsibility for his own actions. He doesn’t know whether he’s a coward or a noble man. Someone has to figure that out for him. It can’t be Estelle, who is in love with him so she’s biased and will tell him what she wants to hear. Instead, he turns to Inez, who hates and despises him and is more honest and blunt, hoping to hear the truth from the enemy:
And you know what wickedness is, and shame, and fear. There were days when you peered into yourself, into the secret places of your heart, and what you saw there made you faint with horror. And then, next day, you didn’t I know what to make of it, you couldn’t interpret the horror you had glimpsed the day before. Yes, you know what evil costs. And when you say I’m a coward, you know from experience what that means.
Garcin opens his heart, explains his motives and beliefs and justifies himself but Inez’ judgement is cruel. She rejects all of his excuses and explanations, in her eyes he can only see condemnation. The door opens and he has a chance to escape and leave hell forever, yet he chooses to stay and try to convince the Other of his innocence. He can’t bear a thought that she will condemn him in her mind for good without ever pardoning him. Yet he has to live with her irrevocable sentence passed on him, being at her mercy. He is what she thinks he is:
You’re a coward, Garcin, because I wish it. I wish it—do you hear?—I wish it. And yet, just look at me, see how weak I am, a mere breath on the air, a gaze observing you, a formless thought that thinks you.
In the end they understand that they are their own torturers, they are brought together to torment each other. There is no exit out of hell:

GARCIN: This bronze. Yes, now’s the moment; I’m looking at this thing on the mantelpiece, and I understand that I’m in hell. I tell you, everything’s been thought out beforehand. They knew I’d stand at the fireplace stroking this thing of bronze, with all those eyes intent on me. Devouring me. What? Only two of you? I thought there were more; many more. So this is hell. I’d never have believed it. You remember all we were told about the torture-chambers, the fire and brimstone, the “burning marl.” Old wives’ tales! There’s no need for red-hot pokers. HELL IS–OTHER PEOPLE.


Sexy Milgram


Today’s news gave me a laugh. A nearly seventy-year-old sexual maniac decided to prey on young female students at the university in Poznań. He put on smart clothes, took a suitcase and introduced himself as a professor of anthropology doing a scientific research. He led naive girls one by one to a secluded place, gave them a survey to complete and then asked them to gradually undress themselves so that he could measure their muscle temperature. Each of the confused girls eagerly took off her clothes and let the bogus professor meticulously examine her naked body. The professor then wrote down the “results” in his papers and kindly thanked the girls for their contribution to the development of science.

It turned out that the guy “worked” at several universities and colleges in and near Poznań. When the girls decided to speak up, the police arrested the predator on the grounds of sexual abuse. Then, some psychologists commented on the whole affair; that we have a natural tendency to conform, that we usually trust and obey the authority, that the guy was very persuasive, that his professor disguise was like a magic spell, that the confused victim is easy to manipulate blah blah blah…

Or perhaps, the girls fancied some anal fisting and simply needed a good excuse.

I Will Pwn You (Revisited)


I acted like a good Christian today. I rescued my neighbor from being duped by the con artists from the same breed that almost duped me a year ago. It seems white-knighting might be my vocation. A little bit of context for those who don’t know.

So last year, after Christmas, two people from some electric power company visited me to get me to sign an agreement to change the seller of electrical energy. Of course, they didn’t tell me the truth. Instead, they introduced themselves as agents of my current electric company, promising cheaper energy. They sounded so credible, they knew everything about the correspondence between my company and its customers, they also had the documents belonging to the company. I was so stupid that I didn’t even read the documents I was given to sign. There was a name of a different company on it, but I didn’t notice it because it looked similar to my current company and I was totally mindfucked. Even now, I’m not sure what I saw, I was so dazzled. It was when they gave me another thing to sign that I suddenly woke up and noticed the name of the seller was different. I got scared, gathered all the documents and didn’t want to give them back. The agreement was in two copies; one was for the seller, another for the client. They were quite amateur deceivers since they didn’t secure their copy. So they got furious, demanded I gave them their copy of agreement back, they threatened to call the police. I had troubles with driving them out of my home. Finally, they left calling me names.

It seems nothing happens by accident. Perhaps, that experience was necessary so I could warn my neighbor, an elderly sick lady who is only a little younger than my grandma and, like her, she suffers from dementia. She lives with her son but most of the day she is alone, poor thing, as her son is at work. I was just going out when I noticed her in the corridor, leading some young guy to her flat while another guy was waiting outside. I pretended to be curious and asked the guy what they were offering. And I heard the same song like the one last year. Oh we are just from your energy seller, you only have to sign some documents so the energy will be cheaper blah blah blah. So I rushed to the neighbor, interrupted the “business”, warned her, explained everything, told her about my experience. Fortunately, she didn’t manage to sign anything. A rather unpleasant discussion with the guy followed but I didn’t really care. I’ve known most of my neighbors since childhood, including her. Many of them are elderly ladies, some are younger. I believe in reciprocity. Occasionally, the neighbors help me, from time to time I help them. It’s nothing big, just small favors, but it makes life a little bit more pleasant.