Words have power. Words are literally magic. In the beginning there was the word. Naming things gives them shape, definition. It pulls something from the formless aether and makes it “a thing” distinct from everything else around it. But once born into the world, the thing does not just stop, stillborn and unchanging. It moves, it grows. It takes on new names, new meanings. Sometimes it sheds the old, sometimes it carries more than one. And the power of the thing grows or shrinks based on the power of the words attributed to it, to the impact and precision and cultural weight and psychological force of the names it carries.

And it is us, the magicians, the word makers — we are the ones who decide what those names shall be. We create meaning, collectively, by continuing to call things by their proper names. Not proper because it was the original, but proper because this name best fit the thing as it exists now. Proper because we, the living magicians of today, say so, now.

Many tell me to adopt a “blue ocean strategy.” Stop fighting with the masses here near the shore and head for open water. Coin a new term, found a new movement, one with less competition over control of the meaning. Be like water. Avoid the struggle. But that existence is one of mere survival. Of prioritizing ease over truth. It is empty. And worse, it is an illusion. If you find the blue ocean you seek, the competition will follow on your heels sure as the tide. There is no land of milk and honey where life is easy and free from struggle. If you have anything worth having, someone will try to take it from you. You can run, or you can stand and defend it.



It is at this point that many accuse me of “coattail riding.” Of simply cribbing from LaVey or, worse, from a much older Pagan tradition, rather than doing something original. Of borrowing a name that isn’t really mine. There may be some level of truth to this, but I say what do we have of value that isn’t coattail riding in some sense? "The basics of Satanism have always existed" (Anton LaVey, The Satanic Bible, pg 53). We all stand on the shoulders of giants. That’s part of the amazing power of human language — the preservation of past ideas so that we can share and build upon them instead of starting from scratch every time. The only real coattail riding is endlessly rehashing the past instead of doing something with it. Don’t allow the shadow of the past to keep the future hostage. Shape your future by shaping your present.

Nothing puts me to sleep faster than hearing occultists defend the “purity” of their tradition and tear down the practices of others. How incredibly un-Satanic to feel the need to find some authority who “has all the answers” and follow them. Perhaps doubly so when their credentials are derived more from the age of their ideas than the quality. How cliché to rely on fossilized tomes to tell you how things supposedly were in some golden past where people knew the correct names and the proper rites, and decide that any developments in the interim must clearly be a devolution of the “true” religion. What could be more boring? Is anyone actually enjoying the endless mudslinging over the proper interpretations of dead traditions?

Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I think all positions are equally valid. Many of them are downright stupid, and I reserve the right to say so when I think it is called for. But for the most part I am not interested in the culture of critique, the never-ending meta argument of who is doing it wrong and why. Tell me who you are, what you believe, and why it’s interesting or important in the here and now.

Yes we need to understand our history to fully appreciate our present. Absolutely you should be familiar with Shakespeare and Milton, and so many others. There is so much about the current culture that you won’t fully understand if you don’t. But Milton is dead. He’s not writing any more poetry. And there is nothing sadder than the stillborn culture of academics endlessly rehashing the words of dead men and debating the “correct” meaning of art frozen in the past. I would love to hear about someone doing something new with Milton. Certainly people are still doing new and fascinating things with Shakespeare, from stunning, living presentations of the work as written, to brilliantly-funny modern twists on his familiar themes. It would be neat to hear of Paradise Lost the HBO miniseries or graphic novel. But if you just want to tell me why such things would be a denigration of history, you’ve already lost my interest.

“Satanist” describes me. It fits. It’s a word I have considered a part of my identity for a long time; one of my true names. Not the only one, but an important one. One I am not yet ready to cede to the white lighters and Johnny-come-latelys. Perhaps it is a losing battle. Perhaps I am already outnumbered. But I’m not so sure. I think some of these new fads are only successful because there has been a dearth of action in this space, a lack of people taking up the mantle and defending it. But I also feel something in the zeitgeist. I don’t believe I am alone in feeling this way. I see many people who identify with that word, who want to reclaim it, but have grown weary of fighting alone and so have gone underground.

I see it all over the place, in reference to all sorts of things. “I don’t like the term X because it’s been co-opted by Y.” “I used to call myself a this, but I stopped because people always assume that.” And I get it. It’s not fun carrying someone else’s connotative baggage. But meaning is derived by shared agreement, and giving in is you consenting/conceding to their meaning over your own. Obviously you won’t always win, and you do need to pick your battles. But when it matters to you, you have the power to fight back. You have just as much right to define a term as any other native speaker of your language. Even more so within your own subculture. You have a LOT of influence over the idioms of your own cultural sphere. Use it.