The Sredni Vashtar Working

If you have not read the short story “Sredni Vashtar” by Saki, you should go do so before continuing. It is not long at all and can be found for free here. The rest of this writing will contain spoilers for it, and also will not make much sense without understanding the story. 

Done? Good. This little gem of a tale, aside from being profoundly affecting, also perfectly illustrates some of the basics of chaos magick. Conradin worships an ordinary polecat-ferret as a God, until he actually becomes one. This is how you make an egregore. 

It should be obvious to anyone who has grasped this, that if belief and worship can deify a ferret, then they can easily also deify a fictional character. In fact, a fictional ferret is in some ways easier to exalt to godhood than a real one, since it is not bound by flesh. 

Much of the work of deification has already been accomplished by the story. The god has been described. His sacred name, Sredni Vashtar, is known to us. His hymn of praise is revealed. His offerings are elaborated– red flowers, red berries, and powdered nutmeg (which has to have been stolen). 

We also know his role. Sredni Vashtar, red of tooth and claw, is an avenger and a destroyer. But he is also a protector of the innocent, and a liberator of the oppressed. 

He is supplicated with the simple words:

“Sredni Vashtar, do one thing for me.” 

Knowing all of this, we know how to invoke him, and also why to do so. 

On the morning of the ritual, I went to a large chain grocery store to obtain red flowers and red berries, and also, the all-important nutmeg. I drew a protective sigil in the air before entering, because I was going to observe Sredni Vashtar’s worship in all its particulars. This is to say that I paid for the flowers and the berries, but the nutmeg, I slipped into the pocket of my overcoat. I had never shoplifted before. It was surprisingly easy. I had no remorse, because the store I targeted is known for union busting and unfair labor practices. 

Home again, I spent hours painting an icon of Sredni Vashtar. Overall, I was satisfied with the product, although the rendering of the blood puddle gave me trouble. I may return to the painting later, but with evening approaching, I had little time left before the ritual. I had to call it done for now, and pray that it would be deemed worthy by Our Ferret-Polecat Lord. 

Night fell, and the congregation assembled. The circle was cast, the candles were lit. I explained that we would be performing a baneful ritual of vengeance. Frater Babalon gave each of us a one-card tarot reading first, checking that it was advisable to go forward with hexing our targets. 

Then I went to kneel before the altar, and he began to read. 

Sitting on the floor listening to a story, it was easy to assume the persona and mindset of Conradin, the ten-year-old boy who is high priest of Sredni Vashtar. At appropriate moments I lit the Great Polecat’s red candle, and scattered the flowers, the berries and the nutmeg before him. I chanted the invocations along with Frater Babalon, saying three times: 

“Sredni Vashtar, do one thing for me.” 

I felt the suspense as Mrs. De Ropp entered the shed. I chanted the hymn of Sredni Vashtar with tears in my eyes, the tears of an unbeliever, the tears of broken faith, feeling just as Conradin felt in his darkest moment. That’s how it is with chaos magick. You always come to a point when you are certain it has not worked. A moment of utter disenchantment always comes just before the spell is proven, unexpectedly, to have been a total success. 

Chills went down my spine when Sredni Vashtar the beautiful emerged from the shed, jaws stained with the blood of the tyrant. Conradin fell to his knees in worship; I was already on my knees, so I clasped my hands in prayer. I felt the power of the god, and also his odd, animal love, his ferocious innocence. I knew in my heart that the invocation was a success. 

When it was done, we encouraged the congregants to celebrate, should they feel so moved, with a feast of buttered toast, the traditional victory meal of Sredni Vashtar’s priests. 

The results of the ritual are pending. As I write this, the red candle is still burning on Sredni Vashtar’s altar. Whether some, or all, or none of our curses will find their targets, we cannot yet know. 

Regardless, I believe that with devoted worship, and with many offerings of red flowers, red berries and pilfered nutmeg, the God can grow strong. After all, I do not know whether other chaos magicians have propitiated him in this way before. Though I am certain he has gained some strength simply through being a somewhat famous literary character, Sredni Vashtar may be yet young in practical Godhood. 

If you are moved by the plight of Conradin and see your child-self in him, if you detest the Mrs. De Ropps of this world, if you see grace in the long, low body of Sredni Vashtar and thrill with awe at his bloodied teeth; if you have been thinking “red thoughts” about injustice and how to fight it; if you need to be freed from something; if you still believe in magic despite all of your suffering, then you too can replicate this ritual. You can make the God stronger. Feed him with your adoration. Anoint his offerings with your tears. And when you have become certain of the target of your hate, when you can identify the boot that is pressing on your back, invoke him with these words:

“Sredni Vashtar, do one thing for me.”

Left, Right, East, West: The Left-Hand Path in Tantra and Western Esotericism

Written as my final paper for a course on Hindu doctrines and theologies. Graded A+ by my wonderful and knowledgeable professor, otherwise I wouldn’t presume to post on this topic.

The term “left-hand path,” translated from the Sanskrit “vamachara,” was probably brought west by Helena Blavatsky in the 19th century.[1] The phrase was absorbed into Western esotericism and quickly combined with European assumptions about “leftness.” “Sinister” is Latin for “left,” and Kabbalists had written about the demonic “left emanation” long before Blavatsky’s time.[2] In the west, the “left-hand path” quickly became associated with Satanism and “black magic.” Aleister Crowley solidified the western definition of the “left-hand path” to connote magical practices which solidify the ego, rather than leading to absorption in the oneness of the universe.[3] Though Crowley saw this as a negative, subsequent western magicians, such as Michael Aquino, have embraced the idea of a spiritual path that preserves individual ego.[4] This focus on the maintenance of selfhood is the most significant philosophical difference between vamachara tantra and the left-hand path in western magic.

Notes on Perspective, Terminology, and Methodology

This is a Comparative Theology paper written by a practitioner of left-handed western magic. This perspective is very empathetic towards vamachara, but is also prone to overidentification with it, which can lead to distortions and to colonizing behavior. To counter these tendencies, I will draw upon Dr. Rita Sherma’s suggested framework for what she calls “Interreligious Theological Reflection.”[5]

For purposes of clarity, this paper will henceforth refer to left-hand and right-hand practices originating in India as vamachara and daksinachara respectively, and to parallel western practices with the English terms left-hand and right-hand.

Because of the influence of east on west, comparing vamachara to the left-hand magic is both inevitable and problematic. The influence came about largely under circumstances of colonization, appropriation, and resultant economic inequality during the 19th and 20th centuries. However, there may also be older and deeper reasons for similarities between vamachara and the left-hand path. Judaism and Christianity are not originally products of Europe, but of the Middle East. The cultural and geographic proximity between Indian and Abrahamic religious traditions was, at one time, much greater. Judaism specifically has a history of flourishing in India free of persecution.[6] There are marked similarities between Jewish kabbalah and vedic (and later tantric) philosophy, which are probably not accidental. Kabbalah is one of the main influences on western esotericism. Exactly how these older Indian influences may have traveled west via kabbalah is a topic that needs much more study, and is unfortunately outside the scope of this paper. However, because it seems foolish to believe that such similarities in philosophy are purely coincidental, I will assume the existence of complex cultural exchanges between east and west predating colonization and the appropriations of Blavatsky and Crowley.

There are additional issues when comparing vamachara to the left-hand path, which has been primarily equated with “black magic” and “Satanism.” There is a long Christian history of turning other people’s gods into demons. This tradition reaches all the way back to the Bible.[7] It was perpetrated by colonizers against the gods and peoples of India. The Dictionnaire Infernal, a 19th century catalog of demons, casually includes Kali[8] and Garuda[9], with shockingly racist illustrations, alongside familiar Abrahamic demons like Asmoday and Beelzebub. Leo Taxil’s hoax text The Devil in the 19th Century, which describes a fictional world-wide Luciferian cabal of Freemasons, includes depictions of Brahma devotees as Satanists.[10] (The anti-Hindu stereotypes portrayed by Taxil are in fact the same ones infusing the much later popular text Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom[11].)

Of course, there is a difference between how a Christian thinks of Satanism and how a Satanist thinks of Satanism. Western practitioners of the left-hand path do not see Lucifer as evil, but as a god of knowledge, carnal pleasure, and spiritual liberation. His role can seem superficially similar to that of Shiva, with his feminine consorts, such as Lilith and Na’amah, occupying seemingly parallel roles to those of Kali, Durga, and other manifestations of Shakti. These left-hand practitioners do not see these parallels as insulting to tantric deities, but as celebratory and inspirational. Anton LaVey includes Kali and Shiva on his list of “Infernal Names” alongside many other deities and demons his wishes to invoke in a positive sense.[12] Aleister Crowley equates Kali with Lilith in his mystical odyssey The Vision and the Voice.[13] Unfortunately, such usages remain appropriative, and even though they are meant to be reverent, they come across as insulting in the context of Christian demonization of these gods.

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Reblog if you are a Luciferian, Satanist or Demonolator.

My dash is too quiet. I need new people to follow. 

Can’t guarantee I will follow all of you because, well… you know how it is, us LHP types can’t always get along. But please reblog anyway to help us all find kindred spirits. Your blog might not be to my taste but it may be to someone else’s along the reblog chain!

To help us all out, feel free to put a brief description of your path in your reblog or in comments.

I’m a theistic Luciferian Satanist (Lucifer is my Satan and my path has stereotypical Luciferian and Satanic elements).