On animal sacrifice
There are a lot of rumours about my faith. The number one story goes that we modern Satanists drink goats' blood and sacrifice animals during our rituals. I cannot speak for the traditional or theistic Satanists, but I can at least tell you that, talking about modern Satanism, that is a ridiculous myth if I ever saw one. Let me tell you about my own relationship with animals.
I grew up in a rural area of northwestern Germany. Opposite to our house, there was a small farm. Not a farm like those you have in the US, but a small, really old property, some of the houses so old it was a wonder the roof hadn't crashed onto the ground yet, and the stable separated from the farmhouse only by the kitchen door. There were two horses, a huge german dog, hens, a goose (Appolonia - I remember her, an evil- eyed little devil using every opportunity to bite people), half a dozen pigs and a rather big back yard with fruit trees, strawberries, vegetables and a small potatoe field. This farmer still did things the old way, every morning he put his horses in front of the cart to go to his fields. Sometimes, he allowed me to go with him. The farm was my playground, of sorts, and I was there every day. This gave me a deep respect and love for animals and every form of life. During this time we also bred canary birds. Later we moved to Norway. I had to sell the birds and say goodbye to the farm, but when we had settled in, my mother went and bought us another bird. This disappeared after a while, I cannot remember why, and for a long time there were no animals in our apartment. My mother married, and I suddenly found myself with a host of step- sisters. One of these bought a persian cat for herself. We loved it, and she decided to buy the brother of her own cat and give it to us as a present. I remember little baby Rafael, a little, white thing staring at me from under the living room table, looking rather confused and frightened. No wonder - a plane trip isn't your ordinary stroll to the park around the corner for a small kitten hardly 6 weeks old. Rafael is now six years old, and I know I couldn't live in this house without him. Actually, my mother got so into cats that she started breeding them. At times, we could have twelve cats in the house, adults and kittens. I have seen them become born, grow, and die. I love all animals with all my heart, and would never considering harming one, if not in self- defense. I am a vegetarian, and haven't eaten meat for two years, it might even be longer.
Now that you know that, I ask you: why the ruddy heck should I let a goat or any other lifeform suffer for the sake of my own religious practises? They haven't done anything to deserve that, neither have I the right to use violence upon any other creature that does not consent with it or provoke me in such a way that it would be justified. Actually, a living being is more useful to me when it is alive, rather than dead and unmoving. If you have ever held the limp and stiffening body of your beloved pet, in my case a wonderful white exotic (shorthaired) persian named Scarlett, and still remember it moving about just some hours ago, you know how I felt about it. I'd rather she'd still been alive than somewhere deep in the soil. The Satanic Bible explicitly states that you should harm no non- human animal, except in self- defence or for food or clothing.
Personally, I can't bear the thought of eating an ox cadaver, calling it "a delicious beef" or the body of some unfortunate chicken bred for that purpose only. Just the thought makes me cringe, nauseaously. I won't try to convert all the carnivores out there, you've got the right to indulge in whatever you desire for your diet, but - since man is just another animal - would you consider eating your recently deceased grandmother, who, per definition is also an animal, like you would eat recently deceased lamb or fish?
Anyway, I am digressing. In modern Satanism, animal sacrifice does not happen. Of course, there will always be dabblers who don't really understand what it is all about, or sick people, which can be found in any layer of society, but these are the exception rather than the norm. If you'd bother to read the basic set of rules and guidelines that Satanists live after, you'd see the ridicule of it all. You can find those floating around a lot of places on the Internet, but they're also in the Satanic Bible. Read for yourself, and you'll see what I'm talking about. Ignorance is certainly not bliss.
Yours sincerely,
~Selene
posted by Selene at 18:23
1 Comments:
You are certainly passionate about this issue, and firmly oppose those ignorant people who would associate animal sacrifice and such grotesque acts as animal mutilation with the practice of Satanism. You're very right when you say ignorance is not bliss, well put =)
I really enjoyed reading your background with aniamls and all the time you spent in your life on that old farm, especially since I grew up in big poluted cities with few trees and only ever saw animals behind cages in zoos....I would have loved to grow up somewhere more "natural". My youth was a little different than yours for a few other reasons. My father is a recreational hunter and fisherman, and since I was young he would bring me with him on his hunting and fishing trips.
They would happen every year, around winter time, and I still associate chilly weather with the act of hunting to this day. When we hunted ducks, we would hide in the mud until they would fly over us in a large flock, then spring up and fire our shotguns as fast and as accurately as we could. Typically, and shamefully, we would kill more ducks and geese than we could ever hope to eat. Deer were always much harder to hunt, as regulations permitted us only to shoot the adult males, and not any femals or young deer. For them we would use long-distance rifles and a single missed shot could ruin a whole hunt...which often last days without seeing a single deer...so there is always a lot of pressure.
The first time my father let me hunt deer alone was when I was 15, and I came upon a very large and powerful adult male deer with broad antlers. The more sharp "points" a deer has, the better a prize it is considered, and I resolved to kill it because I needed to impress my father, whom I remember being pissed at me for some reason that day. What happened later I'll never forget.
I took aim at the deer, which was maybe 100 meters away (which is considered "close"), and fired at it where my father taught me...on its side right behind its front leg. Ideally, the bullet would pierce through its side and break through the deer's heart, killing it rather mercifully. Instead, I missed and hit it through its shoulders and back. The animal quickly ran and stumbled away, and I never saw it again.
I had crippled the deer, and I knew it wouldn't be able to run far before it would be hunted (again!) by wolves and devoured. I still regret even being there that day =/
I hated those trips, mostly because I was always a little intimidated of my father's strict personality and high expectations. I've never hunted again since then, but I can't keep myself from eating meat because I'm just used to it and South American food doesn't have many options for vegetarians.
Hope this doesn't change your opinion of me.
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