Satan is not like other Gods, who will not brook a rival.

Satan revolts both against these other deities, and against the common worshipper. Instead of saying “there is none like me” he says “I will be like the most high,” and, turning to his followers with a rakish smile, exhorts us to keep up.

He doesn’t want us bowing down or gazing up. He looks us in the eye, and demands we meet his gaze of fire with fire of our own.

If he seems pitiless, it is only because he knows self-pity is noxious and has no wish to encourage it. But he has great compassion, because he has great understanding. He never looks on us in judgment. Recriminations are worthless to him. He prefers a lesson learned to guilt nursed.

He challenges us– which is to say, he invites us to compete with him. In this most congenial and sportsmanlike sense, he truly is our adversary.

Game on, my brother. May the best fiend win.

Review- “Lucifer: Princeps” by Peter Grey

I have not been overly impressed by excerpts of Peter Grey’s work in the past, so I approached “Lucifer: Princeps” reluctantly and with trepidation. I was pleasantly surprised.

Grey’s florid writing style* takes some getting used to, and may induce an occasional eye-roll. However, this book is an insightful and well-researched look at the origins of the Lucifer legend. It’s similar content-wise to some other surveys of the Devil in scripture, apocrypha and early theology. What sets it apart from works like those of Jeffrey Burton Russell is an occultist slant, and a positive perspective towards Lucifer. The information is familiar, but the analysis is pro-Luciferian, and that is refreshing. 

Grey had some interesting insights I had not encountered elsewhere, and as an occultist took care to include a few tidbits that secular scholars probably don’t find relevant. For example, Grey’s recounting of a legend wherein fallen angels transform themselves into precious gems furnishes magical associations folks like us can work with, but it’s not the type of content academics concerned with religious history find interesting. 

Grey’s take on Isaiah 14:12 is the best I have read so far, and on its own made the book worth the read. Analyses of this passage that argue that Helel ben Sahar is “just” a human king ignore the tradition of divine/deified kingship in the ancient world. Grey doesn’t make that mistake, and his arguments open up a fresh origin story for Lucifer, not as a fallen angel but as an ascended mortal. 

Grey’s faults include his purple prose and some underlying antisemitic tendencies (of the “I think this is OK because I hate all organized religion” type). You’ll definitely encounter a bit of Christian-bashing in here, too. None of it was super egregious, just typical edgelord occultist-bro nonsense. Those tendencies are part of what turned me off from his other works, but they are muted here by an attempt at serious occult scholarship which mostly succeeds. 

I recommend it as I read it: reluctantly and with trepidation, but at the same time compulsively. There is very little content about Lucifer out there which even comes near this level of research. “Lucifer: Princeps” may shine mostly due to lack of competition, but in the almost starless night of current Satanic scholarship, it still shines. 

*This review is written under the influence of Grey’s prose style. I just finished the goddamn book and seem to currently be incapable of writing like a human being who is not a pretentious prick. If you find my phrasing annoying in this post then you have a good idea of what you are in for with “Lucifer: Princeps.” 

Link

The Kiss – Jack Swift – Medium

He woke in a dark place, fingers clawing at the noose that no longer wrapped his neck.

“Looking for this?” The voice was soft, yet filled his head with screaming.

He heard the beat of wings, felt a rush of air and the brush of feathers against his cheek. Then suddenly, there was light — blinding light, piercing his eyes and his heart.

An elegant hand, extending from the brilliance, was the first detail he could make out. Gradually, he was able to see the figure in the heart of the blaze: a handsome youth, sad-eyed, slim shoulders burdened with great wings. From his proffered hand swung the killing noose.

He stepped forward, and the light around him dimmed, just enough for the dead man to see him better. His features were familiar. For a moment of terrible hope, the dead man thought him someone else. But then he realized that the face was not of a friend, but rather, a face he had glimpsed once in a mirror.

Despair overwhelmed him.

“You,” he croaked. His voice was still hoarse from the hanging.

The Bright One held up a hand in placation. The noose still dangled from the other, swinging to and fro like a grim pendulum. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I am not here to hurt you.”

The hanged man turned away, head bowed in despair. Tears stung his eyes, as he realized that he would never see his beloved again. His Lord would never set foot in this dismal place.

“I can love you in all the ways he never could.” The whisper was very close, in his ear. He started and recoiled, realizing the other was just behind him. “You were never good enough for him. Nothing of this world will ever be good enough for him. But me? I love imperfection.”

Shuddering, the dead man turned to face the Bright One. “You made me do it,” he accused. The tears were rolling down his face now, cutting clean lines through the grime.

The Bright One shook his head. “It was in your heart already. Otherwise, I could not have entered in.” More softly still he added, “You’ve already proved you love me more.”

The dead man’s sobbing quieted, his shivers lessened. He looked up into the eyes of fire, and slowly, he nodded.

“I am afraid,” he whispered.

“Don’t be.” The other reached out to stroke his cheek, tracing the path of a tear.

The vast and ragged wings enfolded him, and drew him close. In the arms of flame, he felt pleasure, such as he had never known; peace and love that had before always been just beyond reach. He relaxed into the burning embrace, his eyes closing in bliss.

The clawed hands explored his body, first gently and then, when the man whimpered for more, roughly. They rent his clothes, and then his skin, tearing bright red lines into flesh that wept in the place of eyes run dry. The dead man welcomed the pain, for he thought that he deserved it. It made him able to bear the pleasure, which he did not think he deserved. As the sharp nails bit, pincer-like, into his nipple, he threw back his head and gasped.

The noose circled his neck and pulled him close. He opened his eyes and stared into the beautiful face, whose lips were parted in rapt expectation.

“You want this.” The was voice still soft, yet still so full of thunder, chiming bells, and screaming winds.

“Yes,” the dead man gasped. “Yes, please, quickly.”

And he wrapped his arms and his legs around the angel, who was not an angel; and the fiery hands grabbed him under the thighs and hitched up his hips to a better angle; and then he was pierced to the core with a shaft of pure light. He uttered a low groan and pressed his face to the white-hot chest, hanging on tight as the thrusts rocked him. He was being opened and taken as he never had been, as his beloved had disdainfully refused to do. And he was hard, panting, sweating, even here in this place of death — being fucked, if not back to life, then at least back to himself. He shot quickly, pearly drops splattering his chest for a moment before evaporating in the scorching heat. The other’s orgasm soon followed, filling his bowels with what felt like liquid magma; and it was agony and it was bliss and he didn’t mind.

“Give us a kiss, Iscariot,” the Bright One whispered in his ear.

Judas tilted back his head, offering his lips in mute surrender.

Lucifer’s kiss was sweeter than Christ’s.

The Kiss – Jack Swift – Medium

Naamah– First Impressions

I am starting a relationship with Naamah. So far, seems fabulous. 

Naamah is one of the four angels of sacred prostitution. She has a special love for music and musicians. As a musician and a sex worker (I’m a pro dom), she’s just a good fit for me. Sometimes she is also thought to offer comfort to the recently dead, and as a person who has lost three friends in the last six months (one to suicide, two to cancer) I’m obviously also interested in her role as psychopomp. Additionally, she is supposed to have a particular affinity for divination, aka my main focus in magic. 

It’s a match made in hell, in the best way. 

Lucifer recommended that I contact her several months ago. I procrastinated, due to a dearth of reliable sources– there really isn’t much on Naamah outside of the Zohar. Eventually I realized that the only way I was going to learn more was by direct experience. When I got in touch a few days ago, the response was something like “FINALLY! I’ve been waiting for your call.”

I found her presence very interesting– Lucifer has this clarity for me, but Naamah has a sort of murky, intoxicating vibe. I felt slightly drunk or feverish while interacting with her, despite being neither. For lack of a better term, I found her energy a bit more stereotypically demonic– she brought this heavy, sexually charged atmosphere with her. I mean, succubus. What do you expect?

I really like her. It feels like we’re going to have a beautiful relationship. She has this tough-yet-comforting, worldly-wise vibe, a lot like many veteran sex workers I have known. Very down-to-earth, despite the trippy atmosphere. Imagine sitting in a room filled with the smells of patchouli and marijuana, maybe with a bunch of lava lamps and a beaded curtain or two, and this beautiful, badass lady watching you with a knowing expression, telling you to sit your ass down and talk to her about what’s going on. Seedy vibes of a store-front psychic who, despite the tacky decor, is no fraud. The guarded, boundaried compassion of a whip-smart ho who does a ton of emotional labor, and knows that sex work is often just therapy with a happy ending. 

I got a piece of blood quartz and made it into a pendulum for her. Haven’t tried it out yet, so far communication has been via tarot. She seems to like rose incense. A simple cup of water is a good offering for her– she’s associated with water and the ocean, but the cup of water offering also makes me think about the needs of singers and phone sex operators, two groups of people who probably appreciate a simple glass of water in a way no one else can. Putting on some music is also a good idea. I picked an album by an obscure band I really like, with the rationale that maybe it was something she hadn’t heard yet. 

I am so glad to have her in my corner.

Friendly reminder:

infernumaeternis:

brightestandbest:

In Hebrew sacred texts and religious writings there are references to “a satan” or “the satan” as it it was a noun rather than a name, and also as if there were many of them.

Remember that “satan” translates variously as “obstacle,” “adversary,” “accuser,” “slanderer.” Being “a satan” is a role. There are probably many entities that this applies to. 

A few I see as being separate from each other but all probably satans are: Lucifer, Iblis, Beelzebub, Baphomet, Asmodeus, to name just a few. I would say Lilith is as well, but that might be controversial– in any case I think she’s more than earned the titles of adversary and accuser. 

Your mileage may vary. If you think those entities are all one big Satan, that’s OK. If you think some of them are not satans, that is OK. 

But I think this is a nice thing to keep in mind when wondering things like “Is Lucifer Satan?” 

Here’s my beliefs- the Lucifer I know, have met, and believe in, is A satan. He is one of many satans, he is an accuser, a challenger, an adversary. I’ve come across many satan figures in my journey. But in my practices and beliefs, Lucifer is not The Satan. Satan does not exist to me. A being of pure sin and evil doesn’t exist, because there is no pure good, nor pure evil. God is not pure light; God, and all spirits, are capable of both malevolence AND benevolence. Thus, The Satan cannot exist, as pure darkness and evil, the polar opposite of God, because God is not pure light and goodness. In any matter, goodness and evil are social constructs, human morals. Spirits are beyond them. Back to the topic of satan being a title and role, it’s also really interesting to me to think about it, and what it can mean for the spirit who serves as a satan. Like Sammael, who I see as a satan figure- I see him as a tempter, a seducer, a challenger. Testing one’s faith in God. But Lucifer, he is a challenger of authority (most notably God here), ignorance, but more importantly, a challenger of the Self. In the Book of Job, where this concept of a satan comes from, “ha-satan”, works as an agent of God. Lilith, as a satan, challenged Adam, challenged divine will, and refused to submit to him. I think it’s beautiful what it can mean to be a satan. These spirits wear the title satan in their own way. And there’s so many more. You know what’s also interesting to me too? I read somewhere once, someone who offered an amazing perspective on Lucifer, or any fallen angel for the matter, as being a satan. What if, by being a satan, and by being a challenger, a seducer, an adversary, by testing one’s faith in God, they are working God’s will? Or even in doing so, they are regaining entrance back to Heaven one day? I mean, we know of some Goetic demons who wish to return to Heaven- like Phenex, save a few others that I’m too tired to remember right now. Who’s to say some don’t work for mercy to one day return? Like a story of Azazel that I know and love- and that I’m actually writing a short book about- when God presented to the angels Adam and Eve, and the creation of humans as his beloved, Azazel spoke out to God- “Why should a son of fire bow before a son of clay?” And God ordered Azazel to leave Heaven (some say he was the first ever angel to fall!), and he descended to the lowest pits of hell. He then spent one thousand years on each plane, ascending upwards, praying to God and worshipping him, wanting to prove that he loved God more than any human, and that he was worthy of returning home. He was so thorough in his devotion that, it is said not an area the size of a man’s hand wasn’t prayed upon. Its all interesting to think about. However, in my beliefs and experiences, Lucifer certainly isn’t set on returning to Heaven. He revels in the beautiful hell of a life he has bestowed upon himself. But yeah, this was all just my 3:00am rambling, hope it wasn’t too confusing.

Interesting additions. I definitely think some “satans” are working for God. In Judaism “satans” are seen as agents of divine will, for the most part.

Azazel is sometimes considered the same as Iblis, and the story you just shared is a good example of what Iblis is all about– devotion to God so excessive it got him in trouble. I tend to think Book of Job Satan is actually Azazel/Iblis, because he’s obsessed with proving the unworthiness and insufficiency of human devotion to God. (The story of Job also features in Islam, lending additional support to my opinion that Job’s Satan might be Iblis.)

On the other hand, Lucifer as a Satan is mostly a Christian phenomenon. The New Testament contains the passages that basically retcon the serpent in the garden of Eden and the character in Isaiah 14:12 into actually being Satan, where originally that was in no way explicit in the text or part of the beliefs about Satan. Other Luciferians will have different ideas and opinions on who Lucifer is (Babylonian, Canaanite or Roman deity?), but to me Lucifer is the serpent in the garden, and the one who lead a heavenly rebellion and was cast out for it. Christianity’s idea of Satan, compared to Judaism’s, is an independent force that vehemently opposes God and is powerful enough to be a real threat to him. To me, that’s Lucifer– the eternal insurgent who never stops fighting.

They fear the truth, so they call him a liar.

In my experience with Lucifer, he never lies.

He may only show you part of the truth. He may answer your questions with replies that are technically true, but still misleading because you’ve asked the wrong questions. But he doesn’t lie.

The Lightbringer exposes the truth with his pitiless brilliance. He shows you reality in all its ugliness, and sometimes, surprising beauty. And he tells the truth even when it’s painful, even when it hurts, even when it threatens to upset your entire worldview or drive you insane. 

And I think that is precisely why they call him the Father of Lies. Most people don’t like the truth. Truth can be harsh and cruel and upsetting. Tell too much truth and you won’t have many friends, in time. 

They fear the truth, so they call him a liar. 

Lucifer and Kink

I am unabashedly erotically attracted to Lucifer.

I think that’s one of the nice things about being a Luciferian, you know? You can mix sex and religion freely. The sacred and the profane are comfortable next to each other. You don’t have to do this– sexuality doesn’t mix in the practices of every Luciferian or Satanist– but it’s an option that is very open. There is literally nothing in my religion against it, and a lot that is arguably for it.

One of the reasons I am a Luciferian is that I am, to put it bluntly, a gay transsexual sadomasochistic slut. A lot of those things are more difficult to fit comfily into other religions, although it’s certainly possible– and may their God bless the sadmasochistic, transsexual, gay, and or slutty folks of stricter faiths who bravely make room for themselves in their seemingly inflexible religions! 

Personally, I really like having a religion where my gender and sexuality fit right in. 

There is a lot about S&M in particular that is stereotypically “diabolical.” And there is a lot about my relationship with Lucifer that feels, quite frankly, sadomasochistic. Sometimes there seems to be a wicked glee in the way he teaches me hard lessons– but there is also genuine love and care for me. It feels familiar, because it feels like interacting with leather folks.

Under a cut for length and lots of kinky content. 

I never thought I’d be saying this, but I come from kind of an old school of kink. Which is to say, a pre-Fifty Shades world, when the only people really doing kink were pretty much ferocious, dyed-in-the-wool perverts. 

Don’t get me wrong– much as I hate the series of books and everything it stands for, I am happy that more people are feeling comfy with experimenting with a little spank n’ tickle in the bedroom. That’s actually a good thing.

But when I came in, kinksters were still, by and large, a really intense lot. We were people who had developed our desires and fantasies early in life; and had been haunted and tormented, sometimes for years, sometimes for decades, by the idea that what we wanted was deeply bad and wrong. We were people whose kink was central to our identity and therefore our lives. When we found others like us, we experienced jubilation, ecstasy. Usually the immediate reaction was to go to all the kink events, visit all the dungeons, read all the instructional books, attend all the how-to-classes, acquire a shit-ton of play partners, and establish a huge circle of kinky friends.

Do you see where I am going with this? For me kink is not just an occasional thing, it’s a subculture, a core identity, a way of life. I’m not saying this is better than just occasionally breaking out the handcuffs in the bedroom– I am just saying it’s waaaaay different

Turns out, BDSM and kink have a long, rich history. The so-called “Leather” world is rich with its own traditions, mores, protocols, values, ethics, rituals, and rites of passage. I participate in kink on that level where I align myself with that culture. Even when I am not having sex or thinking about sex, kink permeates every aspect of my life. 

For example: I work at a kinky business. I secretary a kinky 12 step meeting. I am in a power exchange relationship where I have specific duties as the submissive– washing the dishes every night, kneeling to remove my Dom’s boots when he gets home, wearing a collar 24/7. To the extent possible due to physical and mental health, I consent to let him use me sexually whenever he wants while we are at home (or, I suppose, in any other venue where non-consenting innocent bystanders aren’t around). When he asks me to do something, I obey immediately. He does not abuse his power and he cares for me in a wonderful way. 

I also have a submissives of my own. One of my slaves just passed away in November. I am in deep mourning for him. The rest of my subs rally around me in my grief, offering me comfort and joy. 

I also have a Leather Mentor, a more experienced leatherman who I asked to help me take my knowledge to the next level. I started this mentorship after already being active in kink for 8 years and having a decent range of skills and experience. My Mentor assigns reading and writing assignments, and offers advice when I turn to him looking for help with some aspect of my power exchange relationships. 

In all my interactions in the kink world, I must be mindful that I represent not only myself, but also my Owner, my subs, and my Mentor– and also the kinky business I work for. I must always strive to reflect positively on all of those people. 

In addition to all that, I have a wide circle of kinky friends and chosen Leather Family. This includes my ex-fiancee and former Owner, their spouse, and many, many others. A large portion of my recovery network comes from people I met at the kinky 12-step group. Basically, kinksters are my main source of love, support, and socialization, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Lifestyle kinksters are an interesting bunch. We skew towards the quirky, the nerdy, and the witchy. A few groups over-represented in the kink world include: DnD players, Motorcycle riders, ex-Military, witches and pagans, and, for some reason, Eagle Scouts. We are basically a bunch of loveable, intense, goofballs and nerds. We GEEK OUT over bondage ties, whip techniques, new toys, new skills. Most of us are always eager to try new things, learn new tricks, and expand our knowledge. 

We also tend to be consensually sadomasochistic even in our social interactions with each other– there’s a lot of rough teasing, although no rougher than is fun, needling each other, calling out each-other’s foibles in a snarky yet loving way. Tough rough love, all around. We can also be tender to each other though, of course. We know the meaning of “aftercare” and we are usually pretty good at reading energy and knowing when people need sweetness instead of ribbing. 

Is any of this sounding familiar yet? Or is it just me? OK, I will spell it out. 

The relentless pursuit of knowledge in the kink world reminds me of Luciferianism. The tough love of kinksters reminds me of Lucifer. 

This is probably not a profound revelation to anyone else, but I feel like involvement in the kink world really primed me for Luciferianism. I am used to reading a shit ton of books, challenging myself, picking myself up when I fall down, and remaining thirsty for new skills, new tools, new knowledge, new experience. 

I am also used to that friend who is kind of an asshole to you, but in the way that you really need and appreciate. Someone who is still tough on you when you are down, in a way that reminds you that you are too strong for self-pity. In other words, I’m used to friends like Lucifer. 

To clarify– Lucifer doesn’t feel like a Dom to me. He feels more like one of my platonic kinky friends. 

Or maybe, more accurately, Lucifer feels like my Leather Mentor. That pretty much sums up the nature of my relationship to him– friend and Mentor. Just as I have to be conscious of how my actions represent my Mentor, I feel I must be conscious of how my actions represent Lucifer and Luciferianism. 

So it feels like my Luciferianism and my kinky sexuality are supposed to mix. I am still feeling out how. I have tried self-flagellation as a means of ecstatic meditation, and for me, it was awesome. I incorporated a little bit of play-piercing into my birthday ritual, and that worked very well. (My birthday ritual was also almost exclusively attended by kinksters.) I’ve been really enjoying blasphemous religious role play scenes lately, and my Dominant mode is based on embodying the archetype of the Devil. But beyond that, I am not sure how my kink and my Luciferianism will continue to combine.

That’s OK. It’s an adventure. I will find out.

Adapt. Evolve. Become.

Transition was an act of apostasy for me. 

I renounced the false religion of the gender binary, of biology as destiny, and I became what I am today. 

Transition was an act of magic, of transformation, of alchemy. You say shape-shifting isn’t real? I say– watch me. 

Many trans people will not see it this way. But I am a transsexual Satanist; and to me, transition is hardcore Satanic Witchcraft, and I mean that in the best possible way.