The Gift for the Prince of Dorkness


My buddy often says that Satanists are dorks. I disagree. Some of them are really sinister like, for example, Sista Morgan of the ONA, a genuine Satanist who regularly culls fake Satanists whom she meets online and then lures them into some creepy forest to murder them and bathe in their blood, like terrible Elizabeth Batory. Oh wait. The creepy countess murdered girls. Sister Morgan hates the dudes for some reason.

Let’s now reproduce her blog which will send shivers down your spine.

“This was not what he expected. He had spent months, following his reading of The Satanic Bible, posting replies on self-described ‘satanic’ internet forums to such an extent that he – or rather his self-assumed pseudonym – had garnered a certain positive reputation among other self-described ‘satanists’ all of whom seemed to revere and regularly quote that book written as it was by a certain Howard Stanton Levey, who of course used a pseudonym in order to hide his real identity, given the plagiaristic nature of most of the contents of that mass-produced and now rather popular book.

Plying him with praise – massaging his ego – they, using the ‘private message’ facilities on such internet forums, had enticed him here on a warm albeit cloudy day in late August. Enticed, because the messages were supposedly from a young women who had expressed an interest in him given – or so she said – his knowledge of satanism. And which messages had sometimes included a web-link to suggestive images of a certain young women.

So there he was, a mere nineteen years of age and self-assured as he was, waiting in the fading twilight for the promised tryst with that voluptuous young woman. Waiting, hoping, his head-piece filled with both sexual and egoistic dreams. There: where ancient, twisted, often moss-covered, trees of Oak had settled and grown near a long-abandoned stone quarry in the county borderland that marked the edge of the English Peak District national park.

Waited, until he could but dimly see a figure approach him. Then she and him were both smiling, if for different reasons; and he was so intent on leering at her that he neither saw nor heard the approach of those behind him: those three women who crept upon him to bind his wrists behind his back.

Of course he struggled; or tried to. Kicking out and shouting obscenities as he lay, bound, on his back. For was he not a proud satanist who believed in indulgence, in treating those who annoyed you cruelly and without mercy, in what lex talionis meant and implied? Who was he – with his youthful masculine body honed by regular training in a gym – to be subdued by mere women?

But they were mocking him before, in the twilight dark, placing a hood over his head, gagging him, and carrying him down toward a nearby narrow stream where heavy stones were placed on his legs, arms, abdomen, and chest; almost – but not quite – crushing them.

So it was that he, supine, heard a feminine voice declaim:

Here is he who believed he knew our secret:
But just look at him now and laugh
For we have so easily overcome his much-believed-in outer strength.

Now, wash your throats with sparkling wine
For Sirius returns
And we women are warm and wanton!
Before me, you were sightless:
You looked, but could not see;
Before me, you had no hearing:
You heard sounds, but could not listen.
Before me, you swarmed with men,
But did not enjoy.
But I arrived, opened my body and
Brought you lust, softness, understanding, and love.
My breasts pleased you
And brought forth darkness and much joy.

I, who crushes your enemies and who washes in a basin full of
Their blood.
For you are my daughters and a nexion to our Dark Gods:
Before you my sisters I offer you this body so that his blood
Will feed your virgin flesh.

He heard laughter, the sound of bottles of Champagne being opened, and then – not that long thereafter – felt the dreadful pain as a sharp long-bladed knife slit his throat. So he gasped, gurgled, as his life-blood drained away, some of it collected in a basin to be smeared on breasts and faces.”

A women or a woman? Never mind. I’m sure the Prince of Dorkness will forgive sister Morgan that small mistake.

And you, pseudo-Satanists? Tremble because the Day of the diabolical Wrath is coming. Stop prattling on your stupid forums but tear your robes and put ashes on your head. Repent! Reject your egoism and learn humility!

You fucking pseudo-intellectual faggots.

Bye Bye Beautiful

It’s not the tree that forsakes the flower
But the flower that forsakes the tree
Someday I`ll learn to love these scars
Still fresh from the red-hot blade of your words


Broken dolls, broken toys, even Satanism attracts them. Actually, the darker and deeper the pit, the more of them buried in it. Some people think that the mere switching of labels and ideologies will cure them of their emotional issues. When they realize that Jesus hates them, they start searching for love in Wicca or in some New Age bullshit. If they don’t find love in Wicca, they turn to Thelema. If they don’t find love in Thelema, they turn to Atheism or LaVeyan Satanism. If LaVeyan Satanism doesn’t fulfill their need for love, they turn to theistic Satanism or the ONA thing. If they find that the theistic Satanism or the ONA thing don’t love them, they fly to some other mystical or pseudo-mystical mambo jambo. The usual reason is: People are bad, they don’t like me here. Perhaps, they will like me if I “reinvent” myself. Sometimes, those broken dolls return to Christianity as new-born Christians, ready to preach the gospel of love to everyone, if only to drown out their own inner demons.

Meanwhile, the tumor of self-hatred grows and grows, feeding regularly on ever-present guilt and shame. External circumstances and other people merely activate what is already festering inside.

There are consequences for even minor kind of non-compliance. Conformity is often rewarded but defiance is punished. Always. Whether you go against social norms, someone’s expectations or your own habits or principles. There are no exceptions to this and there will never be, even if you think it should be otherwise. As one smart guy once wrote “Life sucks, and yes, people do suck. Fuck forbid you also suck... The devil is not an advocate of pleasure, at least, not without tribulation. One must earn their horns and hooves. Endure some of what Hell has to offer, and baby if you do it right, you’ll come back on fire, and smokin’ hot.” The social rejects sometimes join the Satanic or other avant-garde groups, temples or orders expecting to be rewarded for their naughtiness and freakishness, to get some cookies for their Satanic rebellion. Perhaps, the Devil was lying when he lured you to the dark side promising cookies.

*      *      *

It’s really amusing when some ONA kiddies, when they feel unloved and unappreciated, get all neurotic and have an emotional meltdown. For the purpose of this blog, let’s assume their all too embarrassing meltdown is for real. Then they start complaining about Uncle Myatt being an asshole, so full of himself and surrounding himself with ass-kissers. Now, what if they are right? Suppose Uncle Myatt, despite all of his poems and mystical writings, is really an asshole, has always been an asshole and has never stopped being an asshole. Why should the guy who is said to have founded the Satanic order be like Virgin Mary? Especially if we take into account that many Holy Fathers of the Catholic Church were most perverted libertines, it is quite strange that some expect Satanism to attract guys with the heart of a dove. Satan was an asshole himself, a pathetic fuck, who refused to serve in heaven because he was… so full of himself. So he was cast into the fiery pit where he was served and adored by his minions, still being proud and arrogant.

I can’t really blame the chap if he likes others adoring him. I would go even further and claim that he founded the Order of Nine Angles for the sole purpose of having his sinisterly-numinous Ass worshiped. If someone does his job of ass-kissing well, no wonder he is rewarded. Now let’s push even further and assume that all the orders, Satanic or otherwise, exist only for the worship of their founders’ asses. Let’s now entertain even braver conspiracy theory that Anton LaVey was in fact a Christian and invented Satanism to con gullible people who thought of themselves as special snowflakes but, in fact, were searching for the peer approval. Would any reasonable person trust a bald guy, with the goat’s beard, who was moreover stinking like a foul goat?

Ass-kissing is a true Satanic ritual of initiation, kinda like the one the witches at Sabbath were practicing when they were kissing the Devil/Goat’s ass in a truly religious frenzy and sexual ecstasy. The Devil is no gentleman, he’s no aristocrat, don’t be fooled. He has no manners, he’s a foul stinking and evil creature having no consideration for anyone. Even old guys indulging in “mystical peregrinations” and Greek translations can be perverted sociopaths. To err is human.

Does that a lil bit exaggerated picture strike a nerve with you, dear reader? It’s because you deny darkness in yourself and in other people. You focus only on the light, ignoring the shadows. Thus you miss the Whole that is a human being. You idealize people because you need to have some perfect and pure idol, a sacred cow that you can put on a pedestal and worship. You are a natural follower who gets furious when your idol doesn’t live up to your sentimental expectations. You are disappointed and denigrate the mythos because you were deluding yourself that the real people were as beautiful and fucking romantic as their mythos. The mythos exists for its ow sake. It’s real as long as it continues to inspire. And real people… well, they probably suck. As you suck. As I suck. As we all suck. Enlightenment is nothing else than shattering your illusions.


The ONA Troll Carousel

Or in other words: Peasants Disguised as Aristocrats


The Inner ONA clowns again decided to amuse the internet peanut gallery with the staged show. The ONA Old Pricks hired the younger ONA kids (or rather one kid who divides and multiplies into a multitude of sock accounts as usual) to perform what they call Sinister Dialectic. To those who read too many ONA MSS and think that it has something to do with culling, infiltration, causing chaos and then global change, influencing history, Aeonic magic etc, then you all couldn’t be more wrong. Sinister Dialectic, according to all the Pointy Hats, is simply flinging poop on various blogs and forums in a light-hearted and child-like manner with the hope that such poop flinging will produce an alchemical change in the participants. Pathei mathos and all such jazz.

Unfortunately, the Inner ONA bullshitters lack creativity and for more than three years they have been repeating the same tired narrative about the true ONA and fake ONA, pretenders, plebeians and pseudo-Satanists, pretending to insult Myatt or masquerading as Myatt and asking each other questions like the Bridge Keeper in the Monty Python movie. Since no ONA initiates seem to give a rat’s ass about their childish “Sinister Games”, they create fake blogs and sock puppets, talking to themselves, fighting themselves, insulting themselves and questioning themselves in a truly schizophrenic display of narcissistic self-adoration.

Now this is the true picture of the elite… during the Carnival. The beggar became a king, peasants dressed up as aristocrats and are having fun. The Carnival has its privileges. At other times, everything is as it should be. A little fringe group of weirdos fantasizing about evolving humanity.

Now, something about ONA questions:

.:. Shit .:.


You know who you are. A puppet on the strings. How can you cut them off if you don’t see them? Day by day, you’re given shit to eat till your brain becomes full of shit; other people’s shit that you absorb uncritically and then parrot it, the shit of your mentors, gurus and priests that you worship, the politicians you vote for, the experts you revere, the writers and poets you’re a fan of. You bask in other people’s glory because you have no thoughts or ideas of your own.

You think you’re a special snowflake, that you’re better than others but you’re one of the many guinea pigs here. The rhetoric about the elite is to lull you to sleep, you gullible idiot. Meanwhile, the people behind the glass observe how much shit you consume and what it does to your mind. Other people mold you in their own image because you’re too stupid to stay yourself or reinvent yourself. And you have a nerve to call that enlightenment.

There will be no enlightenment. Shit – that’s all you will get. It has always been like that and will remain like that forever. What sits there in your mind, whatever you think, say and do is other people’s work, not yours. A brush and a canvas are not a painter but that doesn’t mean they are not useful. Perhaps, one day you will wake up and notice the prison of mirages all around you. When they are gone, there will be Nothing left.

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.

One Way Ticket to the Blue

Once upon a time, a long long time ago, when mice ran after cats and lions were chased by rats, and the whole world was fucked up, somewhere in the Wonderland, there lived a little elephant. This elephant was no ordinary elephant, because he suffered from a strange illness. Everything he saw was pink. So he strolled around singing cheerfully to himself:

Oh what a wonderful pink pink world! What a beautiful pink sky, pink trees and pink grass! Wherever I go I see pink elephants!

Other elephants from his herd had enough of this insanity and decided to call in a vet. Soon the vet arrived holding a jar full of blue pills.

Here you are. – He said to the eager elephants, giving them the jar – Give your comrade one blue pill every day for three months. And after three months he should be all right.

Wut? – Said the elephants when the doctor rode away – We will have to put up with his stupidity for another three months? Come on. Let’s give him all the pills at once and tomorrow he will be like a new elephant.

The next day, the elephant woke up and looked up at the sky. Oh what a beautiful blue sky! – He exclaimed as his comrades cheered. Then he looked at them and looked around. – Oh beautiful blue trees and blue grass! Hello my blue brothers and sisters! What a wonderful blue blue world!

Oh my God! What have we done?! The poor elephants were consternated. Don’t worry. – Said the leader, the old elephant – It’s not so bad. At least, he’s got one thing right.

Mindfuck can occur when the input of new ideas exceeds the capability of the mind to consciously assimilate them. Whenever exposed to new ideas the mind needs some time to ponder on them, to chew on them, understand them, filter them, deal with cognitive dissonance and so on. This is why education, gaining genuine knowledge takes years of diligence and commitment.

While education involves conscious learning, mindfuck is an unconscious process. It usually occurs when the person is extremely willing to accept a new set of attractive, albeit complex, ideas, but is too dumb to understand them. Another cause for mindfuck is an overflow of the too abstract and difficult ideas which cause extreme confusion in the mind of the victim. As a result, the victim gets it all wrong. And last but not least, mindfuck is a result of the manipulation by the mindfucker.

What are the symptoms of mindfuck? Deja vu is a key word here. When you listen to the mindfucked person, you have the impression that you have heard/seen/read it all before. This is because the victim of mindfuck constantly parrots other people’s ideas, while at the same time being totally convinced these ideas are his own. You can’t have a rational discussion with the mindfucked person, because he, himself, has no fucking clue what he’s talking about. So instead of answering your arguments he will repeat the same shit that got stuck in his mind over and over again. God forbid you try to call him out on his bullshit or he will try to scratch your eyes out. He’s that enamored with his new ideology, which he accepts uncritically.

Mindfuck is a terrible disease of the mind that can be deliberately spread by mindfuckers to further their diabolical agendas. As mindfucked people are drones unable to think for themselves, they can be used by the mindfucker as tools to achieve whatever aims he desires. The mindfucker doesn’t choose his victims at random, but carefully selects them using various tests, games and quizzes. Stupidity is one thing he’s looking for in his victims, vanity is another one.

The first thing the mindfucker checks is whether you’re retarded enough to buy his crap. He will deliberately lie to you and tell you bullshit, just to see your reaction. If you fall for his bullshit, he will move to the next stage – manipulation.

There are various techniques the mindfucker uses. The most popular and effective one is flattery. Come on, who doesn’t want to be praised? The mindfucker will stroke your ego, trying to convince you you’re someone special, a unique snowflake, a well of wisdom. He will praise your looks, your intellect and character. He will also tell you you’re his best friend or that you’re like a brother or sister to him. This form of manipulation is extremely painful for the mindfucker because he has to kiss your ass, though he actually hates you. The mindfucker feels the utmost contempt for his victims, whom he regards as stupid and brainless donkeys. At this point we could even feel some compassion for the mindfucker, who has to suppress his true feelings. Let us not forget that the mindfucker is a human being too.

When the method of flattery fails, the mindfucker has other methods like humiliation, insults, subtle threats, guilt trap, playing the victim card etc. They are less effective than flattery because they usually make the target go into a defensive mode. Let’s not forget about confusion. The mindfucker will try to deliberately confound and confuse you. He will keep telling you things that will make your head spin. When being called out on this, he will pretend nothing is happening.

When the mindfucker manages to successfully manipulate you, he will move to the final stage – indoctrination. Though the mindfucker often pretends to be a mentor or a teacher, it is not in his interest to make you any wiser. He will sell you nice sounding bullshit, epic slogans and catchy phrases, without going into the true essence/nature of things. There are two words that the mindfucker absolutely hates. One is “No” and another one is “Why?” He will discourage any questioning, saying “God wills it”, “It is to be lived and not debated” and so on.

And finally, when you buy your ticket to the blue, when you exchange one nonsense for another nonsense, you can go around and share your newly acquired “wisdom” with everybody interested. Stupidity is contagious and the more stupid people there are around the happier the mindfucker is. After all, stupid people are easier to rule.

The little elephant is silly, naive and childish. He sees the world through rose-colored glasses. His older and more mature comrades are pretty tired and fed up with his silly idealism. The doctor promises no miracles. The elephant will have to bear with his stupidity for three months before he gradually gains wisdom and sees the world as it is, in its true colors.

There are no shortcuts on the path to wisdom. It’s a long difficult way full of obstacles, adventures and dangers like Odysseus’ travel to Ithaca. Like a pearl wisdom is born from pain and suffering. All the mentors, religious groups or esoteric orders that offer you an easy and pre-prepared road to wisdom are the siren’s song steering you away from your destiny – coming back home.