What is Lesser Magic?

Satanic Magic as defined by Dr. LaVey is "the change in situations or events in accordance with one's will, which would, using normally accepted methods, be unchangeable." There are two kinds: Lesser Magic, day to day social manipulation, and Greater Magic, introspective manipulation in a fantasy state of mind to be therapeutic psychodrama, which some people believe (including the author of this blog through empirical evidence) to cause effect in the real world. The latter will be covered in a future post, but today's writing will be about my respect for the natural practitioners of Lesser Magic...

Most people don't realize they use Lesser Magic in an almost daily basis. If you ever dress nicely for a job interview, or wear a handsome particular attire when going on a first date, you are using social manipulation to reach a specific result. Satanists and De-facto Satanists (those with Satanic attributes that either do not know about the religion or chose not to apply the label to themselves) are adepts in this art either consciously or unconsciously.

They don't just wear a nice shirt when up for an interview or a short skirt when they are trying to seduce - they speak, act, give scent, and position themselves to best enchant and manipulate the victim to their Will. You can be hideous and exaggerate your appearance to the point in where you can frighten someone into acting a particular way you want them to, or if you look "sweet" and "innocent" capitalize on that and make yourself look as harmless and sentimental as possible, making ulterior actions much more hidden.

Say you are a healthy fit female looking to seduce a man - a sexy set of clothes isn't the only tool you can use for your magic. Scent is another powerful tool. A healthy and fit human gives off a natural sweat that the opposite sex or homosexual will be turned on by. Or say should you desire to intimidate someone to do as you want, positioning your neck slightly upward and widening your eyes and looking at your prey with a blank look (as if you are looking through them) is a scientifically proven body language maneuver assuming dominance. The Satanic Witch gives more information and tips about LaVey's personal "bag of tricks" should this subject interest you further.

My respect for these magicians is grand, especially if they are self-aware of their actions and hold no remorse. Humans have always lived in a social darwinistic struggle for survival, and just because we are no longer beating each other with sticks and rocks (in the Western world, at least) it doesn't change our inherent combative nature. The AT&T salesman downtown is given bonuses for the more regional programs he is able to support with customers ("make 'em buy this phone, or buy this package"), the Fortune 500 employee can get a quicker promotion against equally skilled employees by gaining favoritism from his supervisor, or escape a speeding ticket by manipulating the police officer the right way. The examples are limitless, but a Satanic magician is one who is self-aware of this power and works to perfect it as a skill.

Women by nature are most often adepts in this skill as their best mode of offense in the natural world has been through the control of emotion rather than brute force. This is not to limit their gender to "social manipulation" but rather applaud a naturally occurring talent, such as a man has a naturally occurring talent of stronger muscles than his opposite sex counterpart. We all use Lesser Magic to an extent, and better understanding our nature and worshipping it, rather than condemning it, will provide the aspiring magician advantage over people still trapped in self-defeating guilt and shame.

The Face of God

‎"The strength of women comes from the fact that psychology cannot explain us. Men can be analyzed, women... merely adored." - Wilde

"To be loved, feelings must be rationed. To love, the doors of hysteria, fantasy, and madness may be flung open." - Anton LaVey

Devil In A New Dress

I just got finished getting my cock sucked. There's something about women that makes me so submissive to their seductive charms and atmospheric femininity. Every three and a half seconds I fall in love with a new girl, and every minute I imagine a new dream of marriage.

Their love bites on my chest and neck are recognitions of dominance and ownership, and my willingness to be a slave to their erotic malevolence always arrives with an underlying misogynistic distrust and an almost hateful resentment for their power over me. I break her face with every flirtatious act, and her nose bleeds estrogen which is my savored cocaine.

"So fucking cute. So fucking gorgeous. So fucking beautiful. Darling, I want to destroy you."

My ex-girlfriend called me yesterday and as always my compulsion drove me to say that I would have stayed with her in California if she asked, but of course that was just my adrenaline speaking. After some of the batshit crazy and disturbed people I have encountered  in the past few years, it feels great to have someone in my life that isn't immature or passive aggressive, but I wonder if I'm holding myself to the same standard. Probably not, my hellmouth can't stop itself from spitting seductive charms out of a lustful adoration to every girl I meet.

"I'm making love to the Angel of Death."

My fingers drip of a different carcinogenic nectar, and instead of nicotine-stained fingers they now are covered in the most obvious sexual acceptance, their sacred honey, my addiction. I savor all the precious that is female and to watch her squeal in delight is a beautiful dream of heaven. There's a stripper in there too. I've dated the nymphet of a stripper, along with a musician, blood-painter, college girl, and cute girl next door. Always do I bow down over their pink and purple atmospheres in the blue shade. Some I fuck furiously and imagine with other men, others I cuddle and claim and want nobody to take them from me. But I adore all.

Wolf monster satisfied by the women of Portland.

Exquisite is when you choke on your own breath as an absolutely gorgeous princess gives you a seductive smile. "I'm sooooooo your slave" I plead to her, and hold her hand to kiss. Bending over for her is fine, fine just fine.

Addiction is such a thrilling demise when the magnificent girl of your dreams cuddles with you on the couch and discreetly whispers her most fragile secrets and opens her gorgeous neck for consumption. I want her, her war, her disaster, her lust, her vanity, and her adoration. Sitting next to her on that couch made the hotel party seem like a precursor to some sort of sexual heaven and the intoxicating perfume still has not left my mind.

Evil Seducer

At the party she crept up close to me in the couch. I didn't stand a chance, this gorgeous thing was just brilliant. Cute, adorable, yet still sexy. She called me an "evil seducer" and I said I can't be held responsible for the things that come out of my hellmouth. Her hand resting on my thigh we started talking and one thing led to another and there we were, tasting the taste of her lips, the scent of her neck, the softness of her hands...

Drunk I fell victim to her feminine charms and her cheek against mine brought me higher than any drug that night. Apparently she did as well, biting her lip at every word of Spanish I whispered lovingly into her ear. I told her that I didn't want to fuck her, I wanted to see her, alone, tomorrow, and be able to get to know her better outside of the environment of a hotel party.

So, to the judgmental jury that so passionately loves to smash my spirit down with inevitable guilt & low self-confidence, explain how I am the evil seducer when all I've done today is check my phone, hoping to see the warm and inviting message "1 Missed Call from Deanne."

Nectar

Written at some point in high school.

The indifference,

fueled by her legs and blonde hair,

is my nectar juice.

I like to visit Jenna,

she makes the little boys cry.