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Review: “Pacts with the Devil” by S. Jason Black and Christopher S. Hyatt

My reactions to this book were extremely mixed. I’m glad I read it, but I have no idea how to review it.

This a book by two authors who sometimes seem to be contradicting each other. It’s also a book that’s trying to be too many things at once. To review it fairly, I’d pretty much have to treat the various sections as separate works. Unfortunately I don’t have that kind of time. Sorry.

I’ll start with what I liked. I enjoyed a lot of the philosophical content in this book. Some of it was extremely validating—stuff I’ve been thinking for awhile but hadn’t seen anyone else say in print. So, that was cool. I also appreciated reading some of the personal experiences with evocation and pact making.

That said, I found some of the scholarship really sketchy. There’s some iffy soft polytheism, and some misinformation about witch hunts. Those are two of my least favorite things. Some of the social commentary content was just plain douchey— for instance, a random tangent bashing affirmative consent.

There was also some stuff about Voodoo, which seemed… pretty bad and racist. I don’t know enough about Voodoo to judge just how egregious it was, but it seemed pretty far off to me.

All the usual Western Esoteric Edgy Bro vices are on display here: soft polytheism, appropriation, spotty research and a weird right-libertarian streak.

The final section of the book contains adaptations of three classic grimoires, geared towards making them more user-friendly. I guess I see what they were trying to do there, but it still seemed a bit pointless. And it was odd to read the previous hundreds of pages critiquing Christianity, and then just be handed some hastily adapted rituals which still heavily depend on using Yahweh’s sacred names to compel and torture demons.

There was also an appendix which was just an excerpt from Crowley. Both authors are Thelemites and in the OTO, so, fair. But the Crowley bit was a completely different approach to evocation compared to the grimoires, and it felt pretty far out of left field. I could’ve used some more commentary on how the authors thought these different approaches could be synthesized or applied in different situations. If you aren’t going to give more context and commentary why include someone else’s work in your book at all?

This is a book that didn’t really feel like a book. It felt like a lot of random things thrown together. It’s not a complete waste of time, but it’s a frustrating and weird experience.

Based on what I’ve said so far you’d think I hated it. But there were actually segments I really loved. There were also a few parts I really hated, and a lot of “meh” and “wtf” in between. I’d give this a confused three stars out of five.

Satanic Witchcraft Inspiration

So, I’ve stumbled across some interesting ideas about Satanic witchcraft in Compendium Maleficarum, the theory behind which was expanded upon in, of all places, Là-bas.

Là-bas is a novel but it’s a rather well-researched novel, particularly for the 19th century, and I will not be surprised if I later stumble across the ideas I am about to describe in primary sources.

Compendium describes a number of spell-casting methods that involve blasphemy. There’s a certain amount of using the image of Christ as a poppet—doing things to a crucifix that reflect the magical effect you want, for instance throwing a crucifix into the sea as a storm-raising spell. Other beliefs described include the idea that desecrating crucifixes, communion hosts, images of saints etc. infuses the blasphemer with increased power.

Là-bas describes a rudimentary “theory” of this kind of magic—the idea that incorporating an act of blasphemy is a “seal” upon a spell that gives it a shot of extra power and makes it particularly hard to break.

My personal theory about why this works is that incorporating blasphemy a. acts as an offering to Satan and calls his attention to the spell so that he can help, and b. if you fuck with apotheosis it’s an affirmation of your own inner divinity by placing oneself above “God” and thus calls one’s own divine power into the working.

Obviously I need to do more reading on this but it’s really got me thinking.

Can you explain more on astral sex with spirits, demons, and Lu himself? Thank you so much, I literally just found your blog and I love it

left-hand-path-notes:

Hokay. Full disclaimer: i myself have not had astral sex in almost two decades. Yes, that does mean some of my earliest experiences were astral. No, we will not go into the weird shit little Mara got up to.

It would help to know more of what you want to know? But…i mean, there’s dream sex, when you slip free and get it on in your sleep (which is what most of my experience is) and that can be hard to control if you’re not already a lucid dreamer. There’s projective sex, when you leave your body and bang one out on the astral plane. Projection is a bitch without a natural gift, a shit ton of luck, or years of practice. I’ve accidentally done it, maybe three or four times and cannot for the life of me figure out what I did to make it happen.

Then there’s the simplest, easiest way, which is sort of daydreaming with intent. You focus on creating an astral space around you and instead of sending your whole astral body out, you just send your mind. It takes some practice, but we all daydream, so it takes less practice than you’d think.

Honestly, if you can create a space where you’re comfortable getting busy and then summon/call a demon/spirit into that space, you may get some hot spirit tail. Again, practice is needed to get to the point of being able to sustain a space and allow a demon to act freely within it, it’s a fine balance, but you can get there.

Oh, and…if you want to seek out sex specifically, it helps to, uh, stimulate yourself while you’re sending your mind into the astral. Like energy calls to like, so it’s like flicking on a red lightbulb on the front porch, it lets the demons know you’re, um, open for naughtiness.

Lastly, i don’t personally think succubi and incubi are all that dangerous, but there’s hundreds of years of lore says otherwise, so take some precautions. There’s pelnty of lore about cambions and astral pregnancy, and astral STD’s are totally a thing. Cleanse before and after, and maybe put together some wards to keep ugly shit from clinging to you.

Good luck, friendo!

So yes, this thing. I’m going to out myself as a possibly crazy weirdo by commenting on this, but so be it.

Please do not read more if you hate hearing about weird God sex. I’m sharing these experiences because when I started having them I felt really vulnerable and kinda nuts, so if you’re feeling the same way right now? Welcome, this is for you. You’re not alone. 

Hot mess of demon sex and UPG below. 

I’ve been having kind of a lot of sex with Lucifer, Naamah, Agrat and Lilith lately. Most of it has been done via the “daydreaming with intent” method. How do you know it’s real and you aren’t just fantasizing/making shit up? Well, that can be hard, and to be honest, you can never be sure. But, if the things that happen in this astral daydream surprise you, and are not things that you willed, you’re probably on the right track. You shouldn’t feel like you’re in full control, you should feel like you’re interacting with another being that has a will of their own. You know. As in physical sex.

Stimulating yourself while going astral cruising is definitely a solid tip. Honestly every time I travel to my temple during a wank I’ve had somebody pop in to share the fun. I’ve even started referring to my vibrator as my “broom” because straddling it is so helpful for flying off to astral! 

My succubi experiences have been energizing rather than draining, however… I have never actually cum during those experiences yet. But the succubi have. So this might be about me receiving their orgasmic energy rather than having them take mine. Just a hypothesis based on UPG. (One of these days, when I am feeling brave and have time to crash, I plan to test this theory and let one of them make me cum my brains out, although hopefully not my life and my entire soul.) Naamah and Lilith double-teamed me one time and very deliberately left me hanging in a dominant tease-and-deny fashion, which was frustrating and hot as hell, but it might also have been doing me a solid.  (They also absolutely high-fived as they walked away from my bound and shivering astral avatar. It took me a little while to figure out that I could free myself using my will. Astral travel can be a bit like Neo trying to figure out The Matrix.)

Respecting succubi as powerful beings who have many domains other sex goes a long way. I made the mistake of sharing some of my succubi experiences with some occultist fuckboi, and he said something like “I’ve always wanted to bag one of those!” Ugh. No. Succubi are so much more than astral booty calls. In the case of the consorts, they are the literal queens of Hell. It’s best to approach them with humility and devotion and treat sex as an offering. Don’t make them want to eat you or inflict scary chronic sleep paralysis weirdness on you. I’m damn sure that the positivity of my experiences with them is because I am on their “team” as it were, and got to know them first before sending them the spiritual equivalent of a gross Tinder message. Have some respect, they’re infernal Gods for fuck’s sake. 

I also want to mention that Lucifer, Naamah, Lilith and Agrat (I haven’t gotten down with Eisheth yet) are all creative, weird, profound astral lays. It’s gonna feel like more than getting off, and it might get a little scary. For example, Lucifer in the form of Baphomet absolutely broke my neck and flung me down a flight of stairs like a ragdoll one time, but it was fine because I instantly healed, and also it was hot to me because I’m a kinky disaster. They may appear in weird forms (see above). Their bodies, and your body, may work in weird ways because the rules of the physical realm do not apply. (Astral deep-throating can be REEEAAALLY deep, hooray!) Their genitals, or even your genitals, may be sort of… unexpectedly shaped. 

More UPG– generally Lucifer and even the consorts are kind of worship-averse and don’t encourage submissive prostrations before them. However, they appear to be fine with it in the bedroom! This means my astral experiences with them have been an excellent and mutually enjoyable vent for my inevitable feelings of slavish adoration towards the Infernal Ones. In other words, kneeling to Lucifer seems to be perfectly fine as long as you’re sucking his dick. 

I know this might sound nutso to some. But that said, there’s rather a lot of lore (witch’s sabbath, anyone?) about Satan and demons enjoying sex with human devotees. In fact, the only times Satan has ever asked ME for anything, it’s been sex. Your mileage may very, but it seems to be his preferred offering from me, and I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in that. The lore would imply that I am definitely NOT.  

Seven Deadly: Wrath

Aaaand we’re back after more than a year for another installment of ‘Seven Deadly!’ Last time we took a look at Pride in all of its positive and negative aspects. Today, we’re going to talk about Wrath. I’m your host, Me, and joining us today is a special guest– My Temper. 

If there’s one sin I’m guilty of– and there’s not just one, I’m very big on all of them– then it would be Wrath. Sure, I score pretty high on Pride, and I’m so devoted to Lust that I have a hard time thinking of it as a sin at all. But Wrath is the root of many of my problems.

It’s funny, because people don’t think of me as an angry person anymore. In fact, these days people are more likely to describe me as “patient” or “polite.” Frankly, that is the result of a lot of hard work, personal growth, and some good medication. Trust me, I wasn’t always so mellow. 

When I was in my late teens and early twenties, I was an extremely angry person. I used pretty much every platform and excuse for indignation and confrontation you could imagine— from arguing on the internet to physical confrontations. I was mean, and I liked to get drunk as an excuse to be even meaner.

It’s tempting to make fun of that behavior now, but the truth is? I had a really good reason to be so angry. 

(Content warnings for sexual abuse and trauma related things.)

You see, I had post-traumatic stress disorder from a kidnapping, and subsequent series of rapes, that I had survived. 

I was terrified and I was suffering. I could barely sleep, I had flashbacks and nightmares all the time, I was plagued by paranoia and delusions that somebody was in my house. I slept with a knife under my pillow. Every loud noise and sudden motion startled me so badly that I often dissolved into tears.

The secret motivators behind anger are usually: fear, pain, or offended righteousness. I had plenty of all three. Anger was my only comfort. The only taste of justice I ever got was imaginary, and provided by my murderous revenge fantasies.

Anger was my armor. Anger was the glue that held me together when I was falling apart. You see, that anger, as excessive and overwhelming as it was, was actually the healthiest thing I had at the time, because it came from the recognition that what happened to me was not right. If I hadn’t been mad as hell I would’ve been sitting around in despair thinking I deserved it. 

Anger is an energizer. When grief and depression threaten to drag you all the way down to the bottom of the pit, anger can pull you back up. When fear makes you feel small and helpless, anger can almost act as a substitute for courage. When the whole world is ugly and hopeless and unjust and wrong, your anger can feel like a beacon of hope, lonely though it may be. 

Anger was my defense mechanism. I was weak and brittle. Small things could’ve broken me, so I lashed out at others before they got close enough to hurt me.

Anger was my reason to be. It was my morning coffee. It got me out of bed and semi-conscious after my insomniac nights. It gave me something to hold on to other than the horrors of what had happened to me. 

Anger was the only expression of self-esteem (or Pride) that I had left to me. It was the only affirmation I felt worthy of. 

Over time, my anger deepened, and festered, and fermented, and simmered, until it became something beyond anger. It became Wrath. 

Wrath is not just irritation or getting a little bit ‘mad.’ Wrath is poisonous grudges cherished for years– and sudden, uncontrollable rages that flash out in an instant. Wrath is anger at its most powerful, and its most dangerous. Wrath is what you feel when you genuinely want to see someone else dead.

Some of you might be rolling your eyes right now, thinking I’m being melodramatic or reveling in my own edginess. Believe me, I am not bragging. The state I am talking about is not fun, it is not healthy. It is exhausting and it involves hurting everyone around you eventually. If you let it control you too much, it might get you thrown in prison or killed. 

Wrath like that has one function and one function only: to get you through when nothing else can. It’s like a powerful battlefield adrenal useful for life-or-dead situations, but deadly over the long term. 

More Mini Book Reviews

Compendium Maleficarum

This 17th-century witch-hunting manual is absolutely essential for understanding European views of Satanic witchcraft. It is also super entertaining, being full of wild anecdotes and fun bits of folklore about witchcraft, demons and the Devil. Best of all, I ended up finding it super useful and inspirational to my practice. It contains a black baptism ritual (which I adapted for my own use), and lots of spell casting ideas. I would put it in a “top five” list of books every theistic Satanist should read. (I have the Montague Summers edition, so that’s fun as well.)

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell by William Blake

This is a quick and mostly excellent read. I might not put it in a top five list of Satanic reads, but definitely top ten. It’s trippy, poetic and philosophical. In terms of style it reminded me of Thus Spoke Zarathustra more than anything else. It’s more of an inspirational text than an informational one but I found it to be VERY pro-Satanic and uplifting. And it took me all of twenty minutes to read.

Là-Bas by Joris-Karl Huysmans

A novel. This is a good read and it sheds a lot of light on how Satanism has been conceptualized. That said, I wouldn’t call it pro-Satanic. Satanism is basically portrayed as menacing and evil, yet attractive if you are a super alienated skeptic who longs for spiritual experience (I can’t really argue with that last part). It’s also a very gruesome text, and focuses on the alleged pedophiliac murders of Gilles de Rais. So, that’s what you’re in for, and it’s fucking explicit about it too, especially for being published in 1891. A lot of what it references is pretty well-researched based on what was available at the time. If you are interested in Satanism in literature and feel like reading a creepy, moody, 19th century French novel, then check it out. If you are easily upset by graphic child abuse content or by horrendous stereotypes about Satanism… skip it.

How does one come in contact with Lucifer?

left-hand-path-notes:

Hiya, sorry it took me so long to get to this!

So. The easiest way is to call them. Renich tasa uberaca biasa icar Lucifer. Like, the only enn i know off the top of my head. Have a pendulum or some other way to communicate ready to go if you want to have a conversation.

There are people that do the full ceremonial Solomonic magic thing. I think it’s rude, but do you. If you want more on that, check out the Greater and Lesser Keys of Solomon.

There are people that believe sex can do it. Since I know multiple people that have astral sex with demons, spirits, and Lu themself, imma call that viable. Ritual or not. Easiest way is to step into the astral while stimulating yourself and call out to them. Maybe set some protections first, cause sex energy is tasty and all sorts of shit will show up to play.

For ditheistic satanists like me, blasphemy and heresy feels very spiritual. I have a rosary i’ve profaned, and i rewrite catholic prayer, stealing from God to glorify the infernal, and the adversary within me.

There’s as many folky ways to summon the devil as there are cultures. I haven’t used any of them, but they’ve hung around a while, so you might research them.

But honestly? Simplest and purest? Call out. “Lucifer, i ask you to be with me. I need you. Please come.”

Have fun, whatever you choose, and good luck!

Sometimes just wanting it is enough. I started reading about him and learning about him and thinking about him and longing for him, and not too long after… he just showed up. The Devil is proactive about finding those of us who are suspectible to his charms.

The Fruit of Knowledge

The story of Eden is important to most Satanists. A lot hinges on the fruit of knowledge and on what that signified. For many of us, you could call it our central mystery.

Different Satanist tendencies can often be classified based on how they interpret that fruit. 

Luciferians tend to be very focused on intellectual and spiritual knowledge. That’s nice. I have a lot of history with that tendency and I still relate to it. I’ve even joked that “Luciferian” is a five syllable word for “bookworm” or “nerd.” 

But of course, in the Bible, “to know” has a lot of connotations. Famously, it stands for “carnal” knowledge– we’ve all know what it means to know someone in a “Biblical sense.” (It means you fucked them.) Certain strains of Satanism place a lot of focus on carnal knowledge. That’s cool too. I do that as well. 

But I think it’s a mistake to forget that the fruit stands for all knowledge. It has many dimensions of meaning. Remember, it was said to give knowledge of good and evil. That’s pretty broad– and also implies a type of knowledge a lot of Satanists don’t seem to think about much, which is to say conscience, ethical knowledge. 

It’s OK to follow your heart and focus on whatever you like, but I think it’s a mistake to focus on just one type of knowledge and knowing. Gnosis doesn’t have to come from just reading a ton of books, or just from meditating a bunch, or just from hedonistic indulgence. If you tend to be particularly cerebral, or particularly carnal, it may be profitable to balance your approach. You might be missing out. 

Alchemy (for Fools like Me)

The Magnum Opus— the Great Work of Alchemy— is the work of becoming perfect. It is the work of Apotheosis.

Stage 1: Black.
You burn. You die. It is the dark night of the soul. You become as ash, and yes, it will hurt.

You are initiated. Reborn. Nothing is the same. You are not the same. For that, you grieve.

Stage 2: White.
You are silver now. This is purification. The pale moon in the black night. Finally, some light.

But oh, you didn’t think it would hurt? Think again. Purification implies removal. All that did not serve a purpose is stripped away. You will lose more. You will grieve more.

As the statue emerges from the marble chipped away, so you are emerging. Except that’s not stone under the chisel. It’s your soul, and every cut is agony.

Don’t resist it. You are being refined. Defined. Coming into focus. You are finding out who you are.

Stage 3: Yellow.
Now you are gold. The sun has risen. All that you are has become integrated, symbolized by the divine androgyne.

You are yourself. You see yourself. I think you might even like yourself.

Does it hurt? Probably. I’m not there yet. I don’t know. I can’t tell you much about becoming gold.

At best, I might be silver.

At worst, I am still ash.

Stage 4: Red.
The philosopher’s stone, something so perfect it perfects all things, so pure it purifies all things. This is you, now, I guess.

What is it like to be this? To be translucent and red and perfect beyond perfection? Who can tell you about it?

Ask the Gods, some of them might know.

And if you do, ask them for me:

Does it hurt?

Gratitude = Pride

I learned about gratitude lists in my recovery program. I fucking hated the concept when I first heard of it. 

“LIFE IS KICKING ME IN THE NUTS, AND YOU WANT ME TO BE GRATEFUL TO SOME SHITTY GOD? ALL THIS CRAP IS COMING MY WAY, AND I’M SUPPOSED TO SAY ‘THANKS DADDY, MAY I HAVE ANOTHER?’”

And yeah, done that way, gratitude lists or prayers of gratitude really wouldn’t work for me. At best it would be cheesy and insincere, and at worst an exercise in self-abasement. 

But I learned that gratitude lists and prayers of thanks are tools that can work for me, if I do things my way. 

It’s not about kissing the ass of some shitty Daddy Dom God and thanking him for throwing me crumbs.

It’s about reminding myself that I actually do have reasons to be sober and stay alive.

Praying in thanks for all the good things in my life helps me focus on what’s precious to me. That got me through six years clean, sober and self-harm free. 

Recently I’ve had to level up. Because you see, so many of the things that made up my daily gratitude list have become past tense.

The sponsee? Dead. The boyfriend? That’s over. The cats? Two out of three will be going shortly. My coworkers? I don’t work there anymore. My bands? On hiatus, possibly permanently. Three of my other friends? Also dead. 

I still have items on my gratitude list that I get to keep. The one cat that is mine and not my ex’s. My other partners. My family. This apartment. My sponsor. My friends that still live. 

But I cannot help but feel how precarious it is, to have things and to love people, given all that I have lost.

So what do I do? I’m still trying to figure that out. What I have been doing is still praying in thanks for the things that I have lost, because I did have them and they were wonderful. And that reminds me that, although everything is shitty and precarious, and relationships end and buildings burn and people die, the wheel of fortune keeps turning. I can’t know what further losses await me in the future, but I also don’t know what victories and blessings may come.

And fucking crazy and cracked and whackadoodle nutso religious as it might sound, I have two things that I can never lose: my Gods and my faith.

And it’s amazing how far I can get on just that.

I don’t have all powerful Gods. And my faith does not expect that horrible painful things won’t happen to me. The only thing that my faith promises is that, when I look inside myself for that spark of divinity, I will always find it. The God in me will always give me the courage and strength to get through any bullshit life throws my way—and do so stone cold sober.

My faith promises that I need never despair, and that there is always a way to avoid killing myself– and even better, that I can always find a way to become a person I respect more.

And it turns out that, aside from certain physical necessities, that’s the only thing I actually NEED.

So today I am grateful for the fire in my belly that won’t let me quit no matter what. I’m grateful for the scars of survival. I’m grateful that I have loved fiercely enough to know immense pain. I’m grateful for all the lessons I have learned, and for all the fucked up situations I have weathered. I’m grateful that what does not kill me makes me stronger, bitch.

And herein lies a secret: when you’re a Satanist and you self-deify, gratitude gets another name: pride. Not the kind of pride that puffs you up with false confidence and makes you obnoxious. The pride that comes when you realize that, for every blessing, you ought to be thanking yourself.

You. Yes, you. You reading this. You’re fucking amazing. 

You don’t have to believe as I do. You don’t have to believe shit. But in my book, Thou art God.

Verily I say unto you, you have been kicked in the posterior by life, you have been gut-punched repeatedly by circumstance, and you have climbed to your feet again. You may live on stubbornness, spite and too much caffeine, but yea verily you live on, you are risen, Glory Hallelujah! Jesus has nothing on you, you tough weirdo cockroach motherfuckers who just won’t stay down.

You are Gods. You don’t have to believe it, but I do.

Am I saying you should be totallt self-reliant, and do it all alone on your own power, which probably feels so depleted? Fuck no! I am here! We are all here! So much power and love is available to us all! Alone we are strong, but together, so much stronger!

My heart is open to you, to you, and also unto you. I see the fire in your belly too, and I am grateful for that too, and so proud of you.

Here ends the sermon. Praise be to Us. Amen.