It doesn't matter if it's really all that true...

Because some ideas are so inherently offensive to such immaterial things that their contemplation for too long could only but eventually break down into it's fundamental essential components of absurdity and annihilation.

Chihuahuas as "The New Pit Bulls" is, to my complete satisfaction, definitely one of those un-slayable un-dead too-funny to be entirely "true" but it can't help but get certain things done.

http://www.cnn.com/2011/CRIME/09/02/california.nude.extortion/index.html?eref=mrss_igoogle_cnn

The Babalonian Imperative

Several eddies of discourse here on S.I.N. have led me to post this-an exploration of something I call the Babalonian Imperative. It is a pervasive attitude within Satanism and sister philosophies that can be defined in at least three ways: }As an aesthetic dominating the portrayal and conception of the feminine, women, and female sexuality }As a complex set of expectations (not entirely derivative of LaVey or his writings) fixated upon the disposition, behavior, roles, and associated symbolism assigned to women who align themselves with the Demonic or with the Left Hand Path. This also, as do all three attempted definitions, applies to goddesses frequently or historically associated with the Underworld, chaos, death, or who were directly adversarial to mankind. This is so because these goddesses are literary wells into which have percolated the collective dreams, terrors, and striving that a given culture has attached to certain feminine objects. These goddesses are shaped by and in turn exerted their influence over the women and civilizations that worshiped and did battle with them. }As a transparent conceit about the (supposed) Nature of being female and the consequential ritualism and illusive artistry that is "femininity." The Babalonian Imperative insists that Satanic women, to a lesser degree Thelemite and to an even lesser extent Neopagan women embody, to the best of their ability, the iconic Scarlet Woman conjured by Aleister Crowley in a fragmented blur of ancient mythology and repressed Victorian angst. She is advised to appear not only sexy but a "whore," and observe post-1960s sexual and gender protocol as if it was carved into the fucking pyramids. She is expected to need sex, as though it were water or the written word, to want it often, and to be good at it. Almost never does this movement celebrate the superb evolutionary chisel that is a woman's power to deny access to her sexuality as much as yield herself to the procreative instinct. Female humans were some of the first primates ever to develop the capacity for resisting an instinct-in this case the urge to have sex while ovulating. The beneficial inheritance of this adaptation to our species is incalculable. For the first time, a male had to truly convince a female to mate with him, not merely defeat his competitors in battle or have a sufficiently attractive and eye-catching member or plume. You might be surprised how many artists keep at it every day in hopes of finally landing some pussy again tonight. There are other distorted assumptions that accompany the Babalonian Imperative. One is that every "Scarlet Woman" or "slut" one encounters is acting in the spirit of pleasure, self-fulfillment, Satanic liberation-or liberation at all. There is no correlation between skin on display and a deep feeling of inner self worth, of confidence in one's inherent beauty and power. The reverse of this distortion states that women who do not "present" in the stereotypical way are not properly Satanic, are not "liberated," or must obviously suffer from sexual hang-ups, fears, deficiencies, or dysfunction. Because clearly, if you really wanted to teach cattle of humanity a lessen about female independence, just flash some titties-that oughta cover it. These assumptions and distortions cannot properly be addressed without accepting a simple fact: that a woman's sexuality simply does not empower her in the way that class and cash have consistently functioned as the supposed "male equivalent." He has the money, she has the sex, they make an exchange, so what's the big scheme? Here's the big scheme, ladies. Sexual attractiveness is different than other types of capital. It doesn't tend to appreciate value with time, as monetary and institutional investments have a tendency of doing. By the time you both are 60, he's probably sitting on a hell of a lot more cash than he married you with, but are you just as sexy? This isn't meant to hurt anyone's feelings, just to illuminate the "exchange fallacy," as I'll call it here. And another thing-the more women a man wines, dines, assists, etc. the higher the collective opinion of women in his community is likely to be of him. Does this hold true if a woman sleeps with as many men as she can? Does it work for her like holding every woman's door works for a man? This small disclaimer will be necessary, I feel, but I won't dwell on the point. I'm not anti-sex or even anti-slut. The Thelemite and other literature concerning Babalon is a worthy element of that tradition, which preceded modern Satanism in many respects. I called this meme an "imperative" largely for polemic reasons, because there is no such imperative as presented to a truly Satanic woman. Its distortive quality remains, however, and deserves treatment.

Neither an Atheist Nor a Theist Until I Can Think of Something More Foolish Sounding To Call Myself

So God is dead, but what can be done with his garments and bones? I am continually asked to identify myself according to the binary poles of "theist" and "atheist" as though these are the only two legitimate dialogues through which divinity may be approached. I am, for all practical purposes, an atheist, but I suspect that most atheists turn a worrisome eye on my decor, for instance. Let us suppose that a third option exists, what might it look like? Option 1 [Theism]: Divinity, understood as God or Gods, is independent of and superior to the human imagination. Option 2 [Atheism]: The genesis of God or Gods in the human imagination is always the consequence of either fraud or folly. Option 3: As artifacts of the human imagination, these characters take on their most interesting and relevant forms when treated as just that. I will leave this short post with a question: How many of us, on close examination, actually fall into one of the first two categories? Not that there's anything wrong with that....;-)

[5] Things Satanists Could Use From the Non-Clerical Episco/Papacy of Discordia

*"We Discordians should stick apart!": On a scale of Wicca to drama-free, the votaries of Eris have us beat-hands down. Why could this be? The more closely-knit a community, the more that peer and mentor relationships tend to moderate and maintain homogeneity among its adherents. Both Satanism and its dotty great-aunt Discordianism benefit from the opposite tactic. It is this sound advice that gives rise to the tradition that all Discordian popes undertake as their first papal action the excommunication of all other Discordian popes and momes.

*Although it is very good and wise to hold serious reservations about the existence of Deity, it is equally good and wise to entertain the possibility, especially when faced with the problems of theodicy, that god is a crazy woman. *Both religion and humor are attempts to negotiate the mind-rending alienation and misery of the human condition and are excellent antidotes to the most horrible of life's pains-boredom. Religion and comedy are both born in pain, one seeks to escape or ameliorate that pain through its own means, but comedy approaches what is painful with an intimate smirk.

*The care and keeping of mythology is our responsibility. In the good ole' days, stone idols were dressed and made up continuously, as the ancients understood that devotion literally fed their gods, who would wither and die without it. The story of the Great Snub need not compete with the Illiad.

*Anarchy and advanced bureaucracy are phases of one renewing cycle, and the natural forces of entropy are sufficient to topple any tyrant.

No/But---->Bombshell/Busts

NO GODS, NO MASTERS- these are words that once belonged only to a woman named Emma Goldman...they had a meaning to that woman and have made such sense to such an otherly woman herself that they may one day come to have meant something very much like:


No Redemption to Soulfullness through Piety, No Redeemers to Soulfullness through the Monkly Muckedly Monkeyish practices of earthly so-called "Masters of the Living Game"


No Priests but Shamans, No Priestesses but Oracles


No Pious Women but Authentic Witches, No Pious Men but Authentic Magicians


No Marriage Between Virgins, No Virgins Below their own most appropriate Age of Reason


No Tao But That Greatest Austerity of Greatest Possible Satanity


That Essence Which Must Always Be Unspeakable


Those were words that must always belong to a woman now named whose whole name could only mean something so much like that it must sound at least a little like "That House of Godliness Whose Middle Name is Grace and is Descended from a Long Line of Ferrous Little Men"

People Just Don't Take/Make Jokes Like They Used To...

This fucking story....fuck-wow.

http://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1DVCL_enUS441US441&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8&q=cnn


In a more humane society, it would be better understood that the only person with a right to "endanger" their own child is its parents, and parents would be wiser about the dangers they willfully expose their children to, those they tolerate, and those that they abhor. Some parenting advice if your not afraid of the idea of your kids turning out too much "like me:"

*Make them sneak out if they want to drink and intoxicate themselves underage, if you can't learn to hide certain things from people that will always love you more and will always be more lovingly curious and less hatefully suspicious (your parents)...how could you hopefully suspect that you can effectively hide from the Law?

*Expose them to dangerous ideas while they are young, before the world and the public school system has had the chance to shut up their minds into a given box.

*Protect them from dangers that you *know* are too great for them to bear, but NEVER protect them so much that they fail to become "dangerous enough" unto themselves.

*Never permit your child to "mouth off" without "good reasons." They will have to learn someday that they have (only as much and no further) the right to offend people's sensibilities as they have the power to do so artfully.

*Make them attain certain competencies, you're a fucking parent, not a baby-watcher.

Respect the Classics

Despite much difference in our thinking that seems, at least at this point, pretty non-transcendable, I can't say that my mother never offered good advice. Never solicited but hey-if people knew exactly what kind of advice they needed all the time and had the strength of will to follow it all the time then they wouldn't be people-they would be Gods. One of the few things my mother tried very hard to instill in me that I never fought the least bit, but merely assimilated for what I took to be its imminent merit, was this..."Respect the Classics! Your teachers wouldn't encourage you to read them because they are content to keep you as stupid as possible without playing too fast and loose with their funding, their bullet-point curricula, or their absurd "everyone's already essentially good enough" values." Surely the best of maternal intentions are visible here, but I've only recently found an answer for myself to the "why..." of the "respect" that doesn't simply boil down to "My mother's advice is usually good [a faulty premise to be as charitable as possible]" or "Because I just love them so much [a vapid appeal to sentiment when I know that I could somehow 'do better'].

I can't tell you why I despise the thought of a life lived in complete ignorance of "The Classics" without giving some notion of what I think makes a "Classic," because that's gotta be something pretty gnarly if I'm to justify my use of the big "C." To my mind, a classic is a classic not because it is well-regarded by "all the right people" but because it has a certain inherent 'unstop-ability' to it. This is why Freddie Mercury embodies the essence of 'classic' rock and roll to me, everything about his presentation, performance, and composition is un-fucking-stoppable. A book deserving of being called a "Classic" could therefore only be so [to me, anyway] because it has the same quality of requiring absolutely no external promotion and only the smallest modicum of popularity at the time of publishing in order to be a "must-read." And why "must we read them?" You don't have to answer that fully to begin to see where I will be going with this. A small 'c' classic is somebody's ideal example of a given 'class,' and the 'class' that is embodied in a near-perfect form by the "big-C-classics" could easily be labeled: 'That class of artistic and intellectual achievements for which it is possible to suppose that human civilization will never be fully done digesting." By way of an example, I simply must give a link to a number from one of my very favorite musicals, if only to demonstrate that human civilization is no where NEAR "done" with even such a very old "Classic" as Plato's Republic.