How my favorite TV show—a 1990s police procedural with apocalyptic overtones—influenced my walk with Set.
Millennium is one of my favorite TV shows ever made. It was created by Chris Carter, who also created The X-Files, and certain characters have appeared in both shows. But Millennium is no mere “X–Files spin-off”; it features a completely different cast of characters dealing with entirely different problems. While Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully track down weird monsters and alien conspiracies, retired FBI profiler Frank Black (played by genre favorite, Lance Henriksen) gets sucked back out of retirement to track down some of the most evil human beings imaginable. This is because Frank has a preternatural knack at seeing into the mind of every rapist, serial killer, or terrorist he targets his attention on. He can read about a murder in the paper and start getting random flashes of whatever the perpetrator is thinking and feeling. Much of this is due to Frank just being really good at his former job; yet he also clearly has “the second sight,” even catching glimpses of ghosts, angels, and demons from time to time. And as much as he wants to stay home with his wife and daughter and pretend “the bad men” aren’t really out there, Frank just can’t help himself; he’s driven to track down every evil thing he can pick up on his psychic radar, no matter what.
Frank is approached by a private investigation firm called the Millennium Group, which consists of various ex-law enforcement personnel who’ve drawn some terrifying conclusions from all the horrific cases they’ve worked. For them, evil isn’t just a human ethical failing; it’s a real supernatural force that actively seeks to destroy our world (and which gets closer to achieving this goal every day). Every single rape or murder that happens is really a part of this gigantic plot, whether the human perpetrators fully understand what they’re doing or not. The Millennium Group also worries that the world might actually end in the year 2000, or perhaps not too long afterwards. Even though many members are deeply religious Christians who look forward to an eventual Second Coming, they nevertheless believe we can’t just sit back and “hope for a happy ending.” If something isn’t done about the state of things right fucking now, there may not be any human civilization left for Jesus to save when he comes back. So the Group uses a wide variety of resources to apprehend the human monsters that live among us, trying to save the world one case at a time. These resources include everything from all the best forensic science units to vast libraries of astrological, theological, and magical texts. And the Millennium Group is especially interested in Frank Black since he’s not only a total wizard at criminal profiling, but apparently an actual seer or oracle of sorts as well.
This show was inspired by many of the apocalyptic fears that ran rampant toward the end of the 1990s. (Does anyone else remember the Y2K scare?). This leads some people to think its subject matter is no longer relevant today. Let me just say, I beg to fucking differ. If there is one horrible truth that Millennium taps into, it’s the fact that people will always have apocalyptic fears that drive them to do terrible things. Even more terrifying, certain people actually want the world to end and will do everything they can to ensure that it does. This is every bit as true today in 2020 as it was back in 1996, and I would go so far as to say that Millennium is actually far more frightening and disturbing now than it was back then. I always found it much scarier than The X-Files because it was willing to take so many more risks. This is a show in which literally anyone can die at any time, and the fact that it lasted for three seasons (in the era of more popular shows like Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer) is nothing short of amazing.
In the very first episode, Frank picks up his newspaper and learns that a local stripper has been horribly butchered. He then starts having visions of how (and, more importantly, why) this happened. That’s when Frank realizes he can’t just stay home and be with his family; he has to go back to work. (And the look that crosses Lance Henriksen’s face at that pivotal moment always makes me tear up and cry a little). So he approaches some old pals in the Seattle PD and offers to help them investigate the case. They eventually catch the killer, who thinks he’s the Messiah and is “passing judgment” on people by doing things to them that would have made Josef Mengele proud. But not before we see two of the most disturbing things that were ever shown on TV in the 1990s. First, Frank’s gift allows us to see just how Mr. Serial Killer sees the world, and it might as well be called “Hellraiser in the Park.” Then we get a scene where Frank and the cops uncover a man who’s been buried alive…and whose bodily orifices have all been stitched shut. They don’t just refer to this stuff off-camera, either; they fucking show it to us, clear as you please. That might not seem too impressive in today’s post-CSI world of gory police procedurals; but this was in 1996, and nothing like that had ever been seen on prime-time network TV before. Not even Law & Order or NYPD Blue went that far at the time, and this was all in the very first episode of Millennium, to boot! It scared me to death when it first aired back in October 1996, and it still gives me the shivers today.
The three seasons of Millennium are drastically different from each other, as well. Apart from Frank Black’s psychic gift, there is almost nothing of the supernatural to be seen in the first season at all; the show is mostly just a police procedural at first, with our heroes chasing a different serial killer or terrorist each week. But as the season progresses, more explicitly supernatural things begin to happen. I will never forget the episode, “Lamentations,” in which Frank and the Millennium Group realize the killer they’re chasing is really a shapeshifting demon. The episode “Maranatha” is also terrific, featuring a Russian dignitary and mob boss who might actually be the Antichrist. These episodes were so brilliantly written, they completely caught audiences off guard at the time. Here we were, thinking this was just a police procedural with entirely human antagonists to be defeated; and then all of a sudden Chris Carter changes the rules on us and turns things up to 11. I remember being scared shitless by the scene in “Lamentations” when “Lucy Butler” walks down the staircase, showing us her real face between lightning strikes.
The second season of Millennium is my personal favorite; we get into some really crazy stuff here. Frank’s psychic powers become much stronger, he becomes more involved in the Millennium Group’s internal affairs, and he meets a lady named Lara Means (played by Kristen Cloke) who can see angels. (Whenever she sees the angels, it means something real fucked up is about to happen.) Frank also learns the Millennium Group consists of different factions that are bitterly opposed to each other, and that some high-level members are every bit as evil as all the serial killers and terrorists they help to catch. This leads to some truly remarkable stuff, including a civil war within the Millennium Group, a battle against Nazis for the Cross of the Crucifixion, and even the outbreak of a deadly supervirus! In some ways, Millennium Season Two almost feels like a totally different show; but the changes all worked, and every Millennium fan I know considers this era of the series to have been the very best.
Unfortunately things did not turn out quite so well for Millennium Season Three. I remember waiting patiently through the entire summer of 1998 to see how Frank and his daughter Jordan (played by Brittany Tiplady) were going to escape a plague-infested Seattle. But when Season 3 begins, Frank and Jordan are suddenly living in Virginia with Jordan’s grandparents. We are told the outbreak in Seattle “wasn’t actually as bad as it seemed,” and nobody but Frank even seems to remember that it happened. Meanwhile, Frank teams up with FBI Special Agent Emma Hollis (played by Klea Scott) to try and bring down the Millennium Group, which has become completely evil. Peter Watts (played by Terry O’Quinn), who was Frank’s sidekick in Seasons One and Two, is now re-cast as Frank’s arch-nemesis. None of this has anything to do with where Millennium appeared to be going in Season 2, and it alienated most of the fan base pretty badly. Plus, most of the stories in Season 3 make no fucking sense at all; they are more like rejected X-Files episodes that are just weird for weirdness’ sake. It took me several years to finally watch the entire season all the way through, and I have zero interest in ever trying to doing so again. It felt like Chris Carter lost his marbles and decided to just give all of us Millennium fans the finger.
To add insult to injury, Carter included Frank Black as a guest character in an episode of X-Files after Millennium was canceled in 1999. In this episode (rather creatively titled “Millennium”), Frank is living in a psych ward when Mulder and Scully come to ask him some questions about the Millennium Group. This leads to a so-called “final confrontation” between Frank and the Group at a cabin in the woods, where the last remaining Group members have been turned into zombies. I for one do not know what the fuck Chris Carter was thinking when he wrote all of this. During Millennium‘s three-year run, viewers learned the Group is up to all kinds of crazy shit, including biological warfare. But according to The X-Files, the Millennium Group is really just a handful of zombies locked up in a basement. What the FUCK?To say that Millennium fans were disappointed by this is an understatement.
In Egyptian cosmology, our universe is sustained and held together by Ma’at, which is both a principle and a goddess. As a principle, it essentially represents helping others to help yourself, both in this life and in Duat (the Otherworld). The ancient Egyptians believed Ma’at is always endangered by the forces of isfet, which are led by the Chaos Serpent. Should Ma’at ever be completely dismantled, the entire cosmos would cease to exist. The “apocalypse” was not a “future” event that had yet to occur, but an ever-present threat that could happen at any possible moment. And the Egyptians believed it was really everyone’s responsibility to help prevent this from happening. The key to upholding Ma’at and fighting isfet was to be a good neighbor and citizen, treating others as you yourself wished to be treated. In this way, every human ethical decision has some part to play in the never-ending war between the Netjeru and Apep, no matter how small or insignificant such decisions might seem.
Millennium really speaks to me on this level. Though it is mostly inspired by Christian themes, the idea of the Millennium Group trying to save the world one case at a time struck me as being more of a Kemetic concept. It was especially meaningful to me that Season 2 aired during my freshman year of high school, which was my very first year of walking with Set. My first weekend Sabbats were spent watching Millennium with Big Red and wondering how I could grow up to become just like Frank Black. I even considered studying to become a criminal profiler myself at one point, if you can believe it. (But then I came to my senses and remembered I struggle with depression enough as it is; so investigating murders and such is probably the last thing I should be doing). If there is any particular character from popular culture who has shaped my concept of “What it means to be a Setian,” it is most definitely Frank Black, who taught me that even the smallest acts of human kindness can be major victories for Ma’at!
2020 has been a year of horrors. Apart from the pandemic and watching the world burn and living beneath a stumbling demented child-king, I have essentially lost my mother, even though she is still alive. There have been so many times this year that I have wanted to just give up and die. But in searching for ways to cope with all the madness, I have at least been able to channel my immense grief into the work I do. Creating the In the Desert of Set podcast, the Summer’s Endalbum, and other artistic projects has been very therapeutic to me, and I hope these works prove helpful to others too.
The week of the 2020 American presidential election was so taxing on my nerves and emotional state that I couldn’t eat, sleep, or concentrate on anything much; I couldn’t even focus on writing any sermons. All I could do was try to capture the fear, despair, and rage inside me in music. In doing so, I have surprisingly put together a new full-length album just one month and some change after releasing Summer’s End.
This work, His Nocturnal Majesty, is something like a soundtrack to a movie that doesn’t exist. It is very much inspired by two of my favorite films, The Final Conflict (1981) and John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness (1987), which both deal with the apocalypse and ultimate evil in ways that subvert organized religious dogmas. (In The Final Conflict, the Antichrist is defeated by a godless feminist and single mother; in Prince of Darkness, Lucifer turns out to be the Supreme Being!) I’ve always wanted to see something of this unique subgenre that takes its cues from Kemetic rather than biblical sources. I have tried developing this premise into some kind of novel, comic, movie or TV show for decades, but I can never seem to figure out just how I want the story to go, or even who the characters are.
All I know is, I had a terrible nightmare back in the 2000s that I have never forgotten. In this dream, the world had grown so irredeemably evil and corroded that the very fabric of reality started to unravel, and the Chaos Serpent was finally able to slither into this world and devour us all PHYSICALLY. It appeared in the sky, big enough to blot out the sun and the stars, just a gaping giant mouth surrounding the globe, ready to swallow and digest us into its putrid gut. It was suddenly nighttime all over the world at the same time, and people and animals were all losing their minds and eating each other in the streets. But just when all seemed lost, a big beefy red hand came out of nowhere and knocked the Serpent right back into hell. And somehow, this battle between Set and Apep above our atmosphere was being magically reflected in a battle here on earth between some courageous heroes and these profoundly evil terrorists who actually wanted the world to be eaten.
I awoke from this crazy dream scared out of my mind—I will never forget seeing the sky turn into a MOUTH like that—and I knew I had to do something with it. Like I said, I struggled to develop it into any kind of coherent story with interesting characters. I can’t even draw the things I imagine; my drawing style is a little too cute and cartoony-looking for me to stomach its inclusion in a concept as serious and heavy as this. But while I was sitting there screaming in silence during the 2020 election, I kept thinking about that crazy nightmare, and it hit me rather suddenly: I just released Summer’s End, which is kind of like my soundtrack for a Halloween-themed movie that doesn’t exist. Why not turn this other movie that doesn’t exist into an album too? And next thing I knew, I had 50 minutes of new music ready to release.
My first plan was to sit on this material and wait to release it till next year, in case I wanted to make any changes. Something in my brain said, “You just released an album, wait till next year to release the next one.” But I have listened to this thing over and over again non-stop all week, and I’m pretty sure it’s finished now; His Nocturnal Majesty is ready for the public. I also get the sense that Set would like it very much if I released this album so people can enjoy it now. After all, why wait? Maybe hearing this stuff might really help someone. Well I don’t know who you are, but here you go; I hope you enjoy this latest batch of Kemetic Setian darkwave goodness!
The continuing discussion on horror movies and spirituality with two of my brethren in the LV-426 Tradition!
Today’s adventure is a continuation of my discussion with Tony and Patrick, two of my brethren in the LV-426 Tradition, about spirituality and horror movies. (For Part 1 of this discussion, check out Episode #52 of this series.)
Tony and I met in Texas in 2000, and when we started meeting for Sabbats back in 2003, the LV-426 Tradition was born. Tony was also the frontman for an awesome death metal band called Hexlust, which released the album Manifesto Hexcellente in 2015.
Tony and Patrick are not just my friends, but my brothers in Set. We treat each other like family, and we are truly blessed to know each other. These gentlemen are also two of the most brilliant and analytical Setians I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. So without any further ado, please welcome Tony and Patrick to the show!
Tony: So, possession films. I just literally watched The Exorcist (1973) a couple days ago, along with Exorcist III: Legion (1990) and The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005). All of that stuff is very black and white! “Somebody is controlling you. We’re going to have a strong monotheistic character take that away, and you’re gonna be okay.” I don’t know, but I’m wondering though; will there ever be a possession film that’s a little more “Pagan-friendly?”
G.B.: A large part of that boils down to how the concept of “possession” is portrayed in different religions. When you discuss possession in a Christian context (which most of these films do), it is always about casting spirits out from people’s bodies through the power of Christ. But what if you’re a practitioner of Vodun or Quimbanda? Adherents of those faiths experience things like being “ridden by the Lwa,” which means that “possession” is actually a fundamental part of religious worship in those traditions. So if you were to try and write a story like that from an actual Vodun perspective (as opposed to a Hollywood “Voodoo” perspective), the possession would need to be portrayed a good thing.
Tony: When Father Merrin [Max Von Sydow’s character in The Exorcist] comes in, that whole scene to me…It’s like a Schwarzenegger movie. Here’s the other priest who’s actually a psychologist and who says, “Well, here is the background” and all that stuff. But Father Merrin’s like, “Enough vagina talk, I’m the expert, I know what I’m doing!” And then, of course, he dies of a heart attack.
G.B.: Yeah, things don’t quite turn out so well for him in the end.
Tony: I’m glad they took that route though, because they could have easily just had the priest exorcise the demon, then say, “Okay, everybody should be a Catholic.” Which is still the main idea behind that movie: “Shame on you for not being a Catholic. You need to be Catholic.”
Patrick: It would be interesting to see a non-Christian possession film, but I think the only way that would work is if it were something produced by indigenous filmmakers who actually have a deep understanding of those traditions and ideas. We need to find some indigenous filmmakers to support and watch their movies, because that would go a huge way toward creating something like that.
Tony: Well I have a question for you, G.B.
G.B.: Okay, what’s that?
Tony: This is about the views we had when we were younger, versus the views we have now. I remember you used to tell me, back when you were living in Houston, you would go after school or after work, pick up a six-pack, sit down, and watch the Jason movies while drinking the six pack. Back then, you and I would just watch these movies for the lewd content and the violence. But now that we’re older, has your perspective changed at all toward some of these movies? Like the 1980s slashers, which seem to take a “moral high ground” against pre-marital sex, drug use, or alcohol. Do you still enjoy movies like that, or do you feel you can’t really enjoy that stuff now, because it’s too much like visiting some Christian “Hell House” for Halloween?
G.B.: That’s a very good question. Yes, slasher films are infamous for having this weird moral subtext that seems to condemn young people (especially women) for having sex, getting drunk, doing drugs, having fun, and being liberated, then getting killed in excessively gory, violent ways by these psychopaths. Especially with movies made in the 1980s, it is very easy to read that as a “judgment” against those kinds of behaviors (like, “No, you shouldn’t be doing this”). We have to keep in mind, these are exploitation movies, they were made for one purpose and one purpose only: to exploit the market (and to exploit the teenage moviegoer market, in particular). They’re targeting teenage boys of the 1980s in particular.
Patrick: Yes, on a surface level, these films seem to moralize about punishing teenagers for having sex and drinking and partying. This applies less to the Halloween films than it does to the Friday the 13th movies, the Nightmare on Elm Street series, and all the cheap knock-offs that have been made of those movies. One thing I don’t appreciate about some of the latter films is how they try to make you like the killers in them. They make the killers into these charismatic characters, and we are supposed to like them more than their victims, which has always bothered me.
Tony: Many people like the bad guys, especially right now, because we’re in a culture that loves punishment and justice. We LOVE it! And the killers in these movies are the judges, the punishers, the executioners. People want that feeling of, “I’m justified in my belief that these people are doing things wrong, so Judge Jason, go out and kill them all. Now I feel good about myself!” So that’s why I think everybody loves the bad guy so much; the bad guy is the judge, the executioner, and a lot of people obsess over that. I know we’re talking about horror movies, but at the same time, you can’t not discuss what’s happening in the world. Especially where I live, everybody’s got the fucking Punisher logo are on their back windshield, and everybody has a black and white flag with a blue stripe in the middle. And I see these things, and I’m like, “Why is everybody is so obsessed with punishing people?” And that goes back to the horror movie fans who are like, “I love Freddy, ’cause he shows those rotten kids what’s what!” They may not come right out and say that, but it’s subconscious. That’s what they like, because Freddy Krueger is the judge, just like Jason is the judge.
Tony: What I want to know is, why can’t everyone be like me and just accept that Judge Dredd is the ultimate judge?
G.B.: [Imitating Sylvester Stallone.] “I AM THE LAW!”
G.B.: The inclusion of all the sex and the violence in these movies is really just to satisfy the desire of the target audience to see sex and violence. It’s not actually meant to communicate an anti-sex message; if it were, I’d expect to see church groups listed in the production credits. And trust me, some of the movies those church groups make might as well be slashers. [See Estus Pirkle’sIf Footmen Tire You, What Will Horses Do?as a primary example.]
Tony: Well, I remember in high school I was invited and I didn’t go, but I was invited to a hell house, and I was like, “What the hell is a hell house?” And they were like, “Oh, it’s this thing where we show cautionary tales of this couple who go drinking and driving, then get decapitated.” And I remember they described to me what I think was actually a simulated decapitation, complete with fake blood and stuff like that. And I’m like, “I love how Christians condemn horror movies, yet they sure do like peddling it on the side.”
G.B.: And The Passion of the Christ. Just what the hell is that?
Patrick: It’s a snuff film.
G.B.: Exactly, it’s a glorified snuff film. But returning to how I feel about slasher movies now. I used to enjoy quite a few of them when I was a young Typhonian foal; but as I grew older, I came round to thinking some of these movies are really bad, and some are actually pretty sick.
Patrick: Thankfully, over the last few years, we’ve started to see a renaissance build. But for a while there, slasher movies were dove-tailing together with home invasion movies, and I explicitly hate home invasion movies. If they are just randomly picking a house on a street and invading it and then torturing the people who live in it, I am not interested. That’s not entertaining.
G.B.: I still enjoy the Halloween movies, and I still enjoy most of the Friday the 13th movies too. I really only enjoy the first two Freddy Krueger movies, I don’t care for the rest of the Nightmare series.
Patrick: I like Freddy Vs. Jason, ’cause it’s stupid and absurd. I don’t think it’s a good movie though; it’s fun, but apart from that…
G.B.: And maybe a few other exceptions, like The Slumber Party Massacre (1982), which is kind of a funnier take that was actually written and directed by women. But apart from exceptions like those, I’ve generally turned sour to the slasher genre. I’m really much more engaged with sci-fi and British folk horror, like Alien and The Wicker Man and the other films we’ve been discussing.
Tony: OK I have a question for you both. You guys are die-hard Halloween fans; hell, we all are. But how do you guys truly feel now that there’s been some time since the release of the Rob Zombie remake in 2007?
Patrick: I don’t think Rob Zombie has ever even made a passing film. Every one of his movies is absolute garbage. I think we’re all holding on to that time in college when we watched House of 1000 Corpses and were like, “Wow, this is rad.” Nope, that movie sucks too. I think Halloween [the 2007 version] is obviously one of his better films in terms of talent and production values; but it’s also one of his worst films from a writing perspective. What he does with that universe and that character is a complete disgrace. It shows he has no understanding of what makes the original movies so special. It falls into this whole genre from the 2000s where the point was just to show awful pain being inflicted on people, which is not really the point of horror or what makes it interesting. Rob Zombie’s Halloween represents this “crescendo” of just wanting to show people being tortured, and now we have this happier medium with films like Midsommar (2019), which are awful to watch and horrifying and disgusting and brutal, but also don’t have quite the same level of cruelty about them.
Tony: There’s also just too much nostalgia in Rob Zombie’s Halloween. The first movie, somebody gets stabbed and you’re done. The Zombie movie, somebody gets stabbed, and we’re gonna let the camera linger on that KISS lunchbox in the background, because don’t you remember KISS?
G.B.: I just reviewed what I count as being my “Top 5” Halloween movies for In the Desert of Set, and I purposely avoided discussing either of the Rob Zombie films. I prefer to try and only review things that I enjoy, because I don’t really wanna tear people apart on my website. In some cases I might tear a movie apart, but it’s because I actually enjoy the movie and I’m just saying, “Here’s this movie that’s really insanely goofy, and here’s why I love it.” (Like with Halloween 6.) But I really have nothing positive to say about the Rob Zombie movies at all.
G.B.: My biggest problem is that Zombie attempts to transform Michael Myers into a sympathetic protagonist, while Dr. Loomis and Laurie Strode are both turned into really horrible, despicable characters who are just toxic and ugly and hateful. Zombie took this story that was originally about really good, noble-hearted people facing off against ultimate evil, and he turned it into a story about nasty, despicable people getting what they deserve from the killer they all helped to create. And that to me is a completely fucking different story from what John Carpenter’s Halloween is all about. Michael Myers should never be the protagonist, he should never be the character we’re supposed to feel sorry for, and he should never be humanized. If you make a Halloween movie with a human Michael Myers and a dehumanized Dr. Loomis and Laurie Strode, you’re doing something wrong. All I have to say apart from that is, the new 2018 Halloween was exactly what I fucking wanted after all of that; a nice return to form. I know some people didn’t like it, but I think it is definitely one of the best Halloween movies to have ever been made, and I’m excited to see the next two films. I’m sure they’re won’t be quite as good, but I’m still excited to give them a shot.
Patrick: Yeah, I liked the 2018 Halloween lot. Over time, I do see some of its flaws more, like it doesn’t hit quite as much for me as the original three films. But that’s not a condemnation of it either, I think it’s a really good movie, and I think it’s an interesting branch to go on. I used to be very rigidly into thinking, “Well, this movie is the first movie in the canon, you can make a second movie, but you can’t make another one that invalidates the original second one, because you either need to reboot it or you need to make a sequel to the sequel.” But I’ve come around to thinking it’s awesome that there are two Halloween IIs, and it’s so cool to see the two different takes on it. The 2018 Halloween is one the best of these films, from a quality standpoint, since Halloween III (1982) at least.
Patrick: I almost wish they would make the future Halloween movies an anthology, maybe with stories that continue to feature Michael at the center of them, but which are different branches of that story. I know that’s probably a pipe dream, and they wanna just make a straight sequel to the 2018 one.
G.B.: You know what I think? I think if they need to bring back Silver Shamrock, that’s what. It’s time, motherfuckers! They could figure out a way to do it.
Patrick: I would love to see, with what I just said in mind, a really skilled director take on a Halloween III remake. Someone who has John Carpenter’s blessing, and who understands the source material on a deep level. That would be awesome!
Tony: Remakes are a wonderful thing, because they shed new light on the original material. Say there’s a movie that’s really hard to get; well when the remake comes out, boom! A special edition of the original will suddenly be released and easily accessible again. It’s not like Star Wars, where they’re literally trying to stomp out, eradicate, and erase the original version. If you wanna see the original version of Halloween, it’s always very easy to find. So you don’t even have to watch the remake versions, just throw those discs in the trash and watch the originals instead. And sometimes, of course, remakes can actually be good, like David Cronenberg’s The Fly (1986) and John Carpenter’s The Thing, which people forget is a remake!
Tony: OK, another question. Has there ever been a film that literally went too far for you, which crossed a personal boundary, and which made you kind of step back from horror for a while? For me, my boundary was Cannibal Holocaust; as soon as I saw that movie, it killed the whole “Which movie is gorier?” thing for me. When you’re a kid or a young teenager or in your early twenties, you wanna go for the limit, you wanna go to the absolute boundary. Have either of you ever hit that kind of boundary too, where it’s like, “I can’t go any further?”
Patrick: To me, it’s always been about the storytelling, and it doesn’t necessarily have to be like a quality storytelling from a literary perspective. But a film has to have a world, characters, and a story. That’s how I initially pulled myself through something like Rob Zombie’s House of 1000 Corpses (2000). I was like, “Oh, there’s an interesting world here that Zombie is creating”; and then I realized how bad that film really is later on. But a good example of my boundary would be the Saw series. I genuinely love the first three films in that series; I think those are excellent movies, the first one in particular. But when I went to the theater to see the fourth movie, there was a noticeable difference in the quality, and it was really too gruesome, gory, violent, horrifying, and horrible. So I think for me, it comes down to this: are you creating this content simply to push up some kind of gore boundary, or are you doing this in service to a really good story? If it’s the latter, I can put up with the gore. But one thing that is definitely a limit for me is anything to do with sexual violence. That kind of content must be handled with a very careful hand if it’s going to land with me at all.
G.B.: In my entertainment media, I prefer likeable characters, characters I can root for, characters I can care about. I like to see these characters treated respectfully and given good story arcs. They don’t necessarily have to make it to the end of the damn movie; it is a horror movie, after all. I expect horrible things to happen in the story. But since the 2000s, there has been a tendency among these films (especially in the case of Rob Zombie) to practically punish the audience for watching them. This might not make total sense, but I really hate mean-spirited horror. Horror should not upset you to the point of making you feel like your life is meaningless, or that ethical behavior has no intrinsic value.
G.B.: Well guys, thank you both so much for coming on the show. It means a great deal to me to have you here; and now, people will know that you both actually exist! You’re not just fictional characters I made up for my website. Yay! And I just want to say Happy Halloween and Merry Samhain! May all the blessings of Sutekh and our Blessed Dead be upon you both!
Patrick: Yep, you too, buddy! Absolutely. Thanks for having me!
A rambling discussion on horror movies and spirituality with two of my brethren in the LV-426 Tradition!
I am proud to announce that for our next two adventures, I will be joined by two of my brethren from theLV-426 Tradition, Tony and Patrick. Together we will discuss some of our favorite horror movies, and what they mean to us spiritually!
Tony and I met in Texas in 2000, and when we started meeting for Sabbats back in 2003, the LV-426 Tradition was born. Tony was also the frontman for an awesome death metal band called Hexlust, which released the album Manifesto Hexcellente in 2015.
Tony and Patrick are not just my friends, but my brothers in Set. We treat each other like family, and we are truly blessed to know each other. These gentlemen are also two of the most brilliant and analytical Setians I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. So without any further ado, please welcome Tony and Patrick to the show!
G.B.: Welcome brothers! Thank you so much for joining me today, just in time for Halloween, the Season of the Witch, to discuss two of my favorite things with me: our spiritual orientations and our favorite horror movies, something that many people probably don’t think would be readily connected. But as we know in our circle, a monster romp can often be much more divine, thought-provoking, and life-changing than any Kirk Cameron movie!
Tony: Well, he did save Christmas, even though it didn’t need to be saved in the first place! [Laughter.]
G.B.: Horror movies have definitely been a part of my life ever since I can remember, from being a little kid. I think probably the earliest movie I ever saw was the old universal Boris Karloff Mummy movie from 1932, where he plays Imhotep, who I learned was actually a real person in ancient history, not just a meet-up monster villain. The actual Imhotep was nothing like the Boris Karloff monster. He was like a fucking doctor or physician, and he was one of the first people in history to develop medical treatments for people that were completely scientific and not magical. His methods didn’t have anything to do with repelling spirits or anything like that; it’s more like, “No, this is something to do with some kind of disease.” And he also constructed the Djoser Pyramid, so seeing The Mummy was kind of a big deal for me. There’s just something about killer mummies that I love, but it was also very educational because it opened the door for me to learn about Imhotep.
G.B.: And then of course, I think everybody who stands within 20 to 30 feet of me probably knows the Halloween movies are fucking religion to me. I always make a big deal every year, on October 31st, about actually celebrating the holiday as a time for remembering our sacred ancestors, the Blessed Dead; they might not necessarily be relatives, but it can be observed for anyone who has passed away and whom we miss.
G.B.: So Tony, what have been some of your favorite monster romps that make you think about spiritual shit?
Tony: Many horror movies I see, the older I get, the more I review them, the more I see them; unfortunately, the same tale is told over and over again, and it’s a very straight, narrow Christian viewpoint of temptation, lust, punishment, and redemption. This same theme is used over and over and over again, whether it’s added with blood, added with sex, etc. That’s why I really enjoy The Wicker Man (1973). If that movie was remade yet again today, they would really play up on the fact that everybody’s having copious amounts of sex without being observant of the monogamous lifestyle. Or the fact that they’re “taking the Lord’s name in vain,” but in their Pagan god viewpoint. But in the 1970s film, you don’t feel like the people on that island are bad people. It’s just “Hey, we got a job to do, and we have a set of rules that we follow. We have a set of beliefs and creeds that we follow, and you’re coming in here and trying to destroy all of that.” We all know the twist at the end, but that’s what I like about that movie; it’s a very spiritual film, but at the same time it’s an excellent piece of horror, because it’s taking that Christian viewpoint of being judgmental and showing how that can bite you in the butt. As opposed to other movies where the shrewd, straight, and narrow people get to live. Not in this movie! That’s what’s so great about it.
G.B.: A really good point. Another thing I like about that movie is the fact that Sergeant Howie [Edward Woodward’s character in the the 1973 original] is actually a pretty fully developed character, he’s very multi-dimensional. Yeah, he’s a judgmental asshole, but he’s also right. And he’s also a good dude who’s just trying to do his job, he’s just trying to save this girl. Yeah, he’s an asshole, but you kind of feel like if you were ever in trouble, Sergeant Howie would be a good person to have along with you. So [The Wicker Man] is not like a “good versus bad” movie, it’s like there’s good and bad on both sides, because the island people… Well, we won’t spoil it for anybody out there, but apart from that, the island people are actually very friendly and happy people, very celebratory of life, very liberated and very feminist, from the standpoint that the sexes are truly equal on this island.
Tony: That’s why I didn’t really care for the [Nicolas Cage] remake. What I loved about the original is it seemed like there was no power structure; yes, there was Lord Summerisle [Christopher Lee’s character in the 1973 original], but he was just the figurehead of the place. He didn’t necessarily say, “I demand all of you to do that,” versus in the other movie, where Hollywood is going, “Oh, let’s have a feminist outlook” and I’m like, “Okay, cool.” But they have one woman ruling everything, which is not really a feminist outlook, that’s just a woman controlling everything. “Oh, we’re gonna have all the men with their tongues cut out, we’re gonna have all this…” And I’m like, “No, no, no, no, no! That’s not feminism. There shouldn’t be any power struggle between the sexes, everybody should be the same, the women can have power and the men can have power. That’s why I like the original 1973 movie, rather than the remake. I like the fact that there was really no no dictator of the island. In any other traditional horror movie, there would have been a clearly evil bad guy; but it’s very ambiguous as to who the true bad guy was, as you pointed out. That’s the good thing about that movie, that’s why I think that movie is something to recognize. Plus, just the fact that it’s also a quasi-musical is something that you need to respect! The music isn’t anything groundbreaking, but this flick is still more dimensional than just, “Stab, stab, stab! You’re dead!”
G.B.: Yeah you’re right, it IS a musical! There are random sequences in the movie where people break out into song and dance. Sometimes naked!
Patrick: What’s wrong with that?
Tony: I mean, it’s basically just a Renaissance Faire caught on tape!
Patrick: [Laughs.] Well, there’s the parking lot. And then there’s the fair part. And then, if you go to the wooded clearing that’s beyond the falconing field, across the highway where everyone sleeps… That’s where it’s real!
Tony: We’ve all been there! [Laughter.]
G.B.: So Patrick, how about yourself? Are there any particular movies – horror- and/or monster-related, supernatural and/or sci-fi – that have really appealed to you during all the years of your walk with Set?
Patrick: Yeah, definitely! So there are two movies that come to mind, and they happen to be my two favorite movies. I’ve always had an interesting relationship with spirituality in general. In some ways, you could make the argument that I am in fact an atheist, because I’ve always felt there is a sort of explanation, if we were to have all of the facts, all the tools, all of the information. I think what we experience with “the supernatural” is valid and exists, and the concept of divinity is compatible with how I’ve always looked at the concept of spirituality as a whole. But I think that much of the mystery and mysticism around our interactions with the Divine, the supernatural, and/or the spiritual comes from a lack of understanding. It’s like we’re looking at a three-dimensional image in two-dimensional space, basically.
Patrick: So that is partly why these two movies have always really appealed to me. First is the original Alien, the first film from the Ridley Scott franchise; and the second is John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982). First of all, they’re just my favorite movies to watch from an enjoyment perspective, just putting everything else out of the way. But the things happening in Alien are so interesting to me because there is so much mystery, and when you first see the eggs on the Engineer ship, there is a religiosity to the way all that stuff is portrayed. The derelict craft is shot in the same way you would shoot a cathedral or something, with these huge, wide shots of this beautiful interior space that is just haunting, with an architecture that is clearly aesthetic. It is not just mechanical or practical, like the Nostromo (the human spacecraft in Alien), which doesn’t look pretty, doesn’t look good, it looks like an industrial machine floating through space.
Patrick: I think that dovetails so well with my own relationship with spirituality, both as a larger topic, and then when you get into specifics of how the Alien is a kind of “stand-in” for Apep, the Apophis beast. It is horrifying, not because it is malicious, but because it is simply doing what it’s programmed to do, a concept that is later explored in movies like Prometheus (which I enjoy, even though it has nothing on the original Alien). It speaks to the concept of this force that just exists, and there’s nothing we can really do about it existing, all we can do is our best to survive its attacks. To me, Alien is such a pure representation of that, because you have this small localized group of characters who each have their own flaws and experiences, but none of them necessarily deserve to die. In contrast to many horror movies of the 1980s, it doesn’t feel like Scott is saying, “These are bad people and they deserve to die” in any way. If anything, the film paints a picture of working class people who are struggling to make a paycheck, and who are visited by this horrifying daemon and try their best to survive. And there’s nothing you can really do to stop it, except try to get away from it.
Patrick: Ellen Ripley [Sigourney Weaver’s character] is the one who figures out how to survive. One of the things I love about her and the arc of that film is, yes, she is the hero. Yes, she is the force for good in this movie. But she also doesn’t save anybody but herself and her cat. It’s like an examination of hope and resilience and fighting adversity, and of how there is only so much you can do in the face of something that powerful and inevitable. So Alien deals with how the universe works, and with how we emotionally deal with trauma and adversity. There are so many lessons to be had there, that’s part of why that’s always been my favorite film. And The Thing handles a lot of these exact same issues, but from an even darker, more bleak and cynical place.
Patrick: In Alien, the creature is biological and not mystical in any way; but in The Thing, we understand even fewer of the circumstances as to how it got to be there. At least in Alien we know there were eggs in this big ship; clearly these creatures were either captured or created by these people, and that’s why it’s here. So there’s this slight anchor point where you can kind of understand why the thing that is happening to the Nostromo crew is happening. But in The Thing, yes, we know it’s because a UFO crashed; but we can’t even begin to imagine what the world that being came from looks like, and that makes it so much more terrifying. Then you get the scene when they’re estimating the model of how long it’ll take before the Thing conquers the world, and it’s very terrifying, and also particularly relevant for 2020. For anyone who has not seen this movie, it will be a little unsettling, but it’s definitely worth watching this season, because it has a lot of relevance.
Patrick: I also enjoy the way both films approach feminism. Alien is explicitly feminist and is brilliant for that reason. Then you look at The Thing, and it’s a cast that is all male; but the men aren’t necessarily portrayed as these disgusting pigs either. It’s very interesting that John Carpenter was able to take this all-male cast, and when you watch it, you don’t go, “Wow, what an asshole, you didn’t cast a single woman!” It’s not made in a way that feels exclusionary to anyone; this is the situation that we’re in, and all the people in the film feel like they fit, like there aren’t any pieces missing from the puzzle. Which brings us back to your point about the quality, Tony. To me, it doesn’t feel like mistakes were made in terms of representation in The Thing, specifically because everyone fulfills a role in the story that makes a lot of sense. Most movies that are predominantly men or predominantly white or whatever, I look at that and go, “Wow, this is a miss from a diversity perspective,” whether I like the movie or not. But not in this case.
G.B.: The all-male cast actually works to the film’s favor. This is a movie about a slimy, tentacled creature sticking itself into people’s orifices. If there had been women in this movie, considering the time in which it was made… There were other movies from that same period, like Galaxy of Terror from 1982 and Humanoids From the Deep from 1981, that have women being raped by monsters on camera.
Patrick: That is such an awful trope.
G.B.: Yeah, and if there had been any women cast in the film, I feel like at that time, there would have been way too much pressure to make a sexual trope out of it. This movie is already disturbing enough as it is, we don’t need that shit! In fact, The Thing deserves recognition for being one of the only horror movies of the entire 1980s with no sexual exploitation in it whatsoever!
Tony: That’s where I wanna step in with that. I’m glad you brought those two movies up, because those two movies are very interlinked as far as characters go. There is also no sexuality whatsoever in either of them, and you can literally switch the actors in both movies and both would still work. Sigourney Weaver would have played a hell of an R.J. MacReady [Kurt Russell’s character in The Thing], and Kurt Russell would have been an awesome Ripley. The point Dan O’Bannon was trying to make when he wrote the script for Alien was to not have sexuality, so the women and the men can be interchangeable.
Tony: Plus, Alien is basically “Space Rape: The Movie,” where it’s a man getting raped in the beginning. He’s violated and impregnated, and he has to go through what women have to go through from it. If you could boil the whole movie down to one sentence, it would have to deal with the fact that nobody’s listening to this woman [Ripley] who really knows better about these things than any of the men. “Hey, you know the quarantine rules, you can’t let these people in,” she says. But the men say, “What do you know? You’re a woman, I’m gonna let this thing in and we’ll just take care of it, ’cause we’re men and we know how to control this!” But you can’t control it, it’s nature, and the Alien’s only purpose is to penetrate, impregnate, reproduce, and repeat. That’s the whole point of its species. We know from the deleted scenes, as well as from the 1986 sequel (Aliens), that Ripley has a child, which was removed from the first movie to further desexualize everything. There was even a scene where Dallas [Tom Skerritt’s character in Alien] and Ripley have a relationship, but they cut that out too. I don’t know if it was actually filmed or if it was just in the script, but they cut that part out. I’m glad they separated from that, because otherwise we might have walked into Galaxy of Terror territory.
Patrick: Part of why Alien is my favorite film is that horror and science fiction are my two favorite genres, and Alien is both of those things simultaneously. Sexual violence, of any kind, is my least favorite trope in storytelling, period. I think there are stories that definitely manage their implementation of that kind of device to tell a larger story; but Alien does it in such a way that is (to your point, Tony) not so focused on sex, and that is something that so much media fails to deliver.
G.B.: Though I think the argument can be made that Alien is also very sexual, given that it’s essentially about rape.
Tony: I mean look at the [Engineer] ship. I know you compared it to a cathedral earlier, but it also looks like one big, giant vagina.
Patrick: Oh, absolutely.
Tony: There’s all these orifices, and of course we’re getting into H.R. Giger Land, which is Penis City.
Patrick: And The Thing where is very much a film about masculinity and the ways men interact with each other in the world, which makes it feminist-adjacent in a way that many people don’t think about. Frankly it was ahead of its time, because intersectional feminism is definitely a more recent development; obviously there were people laying the groundwork for that in the 1970s and 1980s, and even before that. But intersectional feminism is not just about empowering women, though that is a key part of the feminist conversation. There are also many other pieces to that puzzle, including things like eliminating toxic masculinity, the ways that men are bad to each other, in addition to the ways that men are harmful to women. I think The Thing is very specifically going for that idea, and that is another reason both of those movies have always been connected in my mind, thematically.
G.B.: You’re really right, actually; now that I think about it, a lot of the men in The Thing, their relationships with each other are really quite toxic.
Patrick: Absolutely, yeah. It manages to touch on that toxic masculinity, and even on racism, though with a very light hand, not by beating you over the head with things. It’s such an interesting microcosm of different people and systems interacting with each other, and it’s always made me want someone to make a video game. Not like the one where you’re flamethrowing Thing monsters, but one where you’re managing all of the personalities at play around that crisis, from sort of a pullback perspective. I think the gross creature feature stuff is amazing in that movie, but what really makes it powerful and meaningful is the way in which all of these personalities interact as everything goes to shit.
Tony: I’ve always seen the main issue or the main subject that they’re trying to explain in The Thing as paranoia. Everybody in that movie is hyper-paranoid because you don’t know, “Am I me? Or is me going to be not me? Is my body going to betray me?” and it turns out I was never me this whole time. This to me is a reflection of identity crises in modern society. “Why, I’m supposed to be a ‘man.'” “No, no, no, no, you’re not supposed to be a man.” “Well who am I, then? What am I? Am I not me?” And when you become paranoid like that, some people try to strive for answers, like MacReady, who says, “We’re gonna fix this.” And then there are the people who freak out and pull out their guns to start shooting, because they don’t wanna know, they don’t wanna question what they think they know, because they live in a world of absolutes. “Men are men, and women are women, and I’m not going to break away from this.” But here is this creature that actually is breaking you away from it, because you don’t even know who are what you are when you become super paranoid. And what’s the one thing you wanna do? You wanna find some sort of sanity, you wanna find something that makes you less insane, going back to nostalgia, grabbing on to things from the past that make things seem “real” again. People want some semblance of sanity, but everybody is questioning everything because things are changing, so everybody’s ultra paranoid. And when everybody’s ultra paranoid… What do we gotta do? Oh, we gotta “Make America Great Again.” Okay; so when was it great? 40 years ago? Sure.
Tony: As for the sequel to The Thing – or excuse me, the prequel (2011). Instead of playing up the paranoia, they went with Alien‘s story model instead, with all these men saying, “Don’t listen to the woman, even though she clearly knows what she’s doing.” Still a great movie, but not as impactful as the first one, which is thanks to that theme of paranoia.
G.B.: I think Patrick mentioned earlier – or maybe it was both of you – how the Alien is really just following its natural life cycle, right? Its biological imperative is to rape and reproduce and do the whole thing all over again. The Thing, on the other hand, is clearly an intelligent, sentient being that is capable of building spacecraft superior to our own (and from pieces of trash that it finds around the camp). It’s presumably swallowed countless civilizations. One thing I’ve heard from some other reviewers is how the human characters are hostile to the Thing from the very start, meaning is actions in the story are purely defensive. Well, maybe it was the Thing that came into the story hostile from the beginning, because it certainly doesn’t seem friendly by nature, and even when it’s imitating a human American scientist, it can speak English perfectly, indicating that it understands what is said to it. Yet it never makes any attempt at communicating with the men at Outpost 31 at any point. So for me, whereas the Alien is just an animal, the Thing is actually evil, purely and simply evil.
Tony: Well, it’s basically Apep. Like, “I have one purpose and one purpose only: to destroy. That is my nature.” Do you remember the celestial creature from The Fifth Element where it says, “I eat on purpose, I’m going to destroy…” Well that thing is essentially Apep too, just as The Thing is Apep. It just consumes, it doesn’t do anything else. It’s the “Space Terminator,” it can’t be bargained with, it can’t be reasoned with, we can’t do anything against it, it just destroys, that’s all that it does.
Patrick: Another thing that’s interesting about Alien and The Thing. When you look at Alien, I think it is clearly the product of atheistic thinking. There are parallels with the Apophis beast and probably with other spiritual evils as well. But Ridley Scott makes it very clear at the beginning that the monster is a purely biological, scientific force that was either made or captured by something. It is not a supernatural force that sprang into existence, with the purpose to destroy on its own. And now of course, with the prequels, we know Scott’s ultimate vision for the origin of the Alien species: that it is a product of experimentation and genetic engineering. I think it’s interesting that Scott, who is himself an atheist, would create a story with a beast like that at the center. Whereas the Thing feels more comparable to a supernatural force, with its more mysterious origins. Again, we know a UFO crashed obviously; but there is no reason to assume the craft is actually from the Thing’s home world. We don’t know where it came from, whether it was created in a lab somewhere, or if it is perhaps a literal manifestation of Apep, this beast that’s been riding through space and has just now found its way to Earth. Not to suggest that John Carpenter was trying to make an explicitly spiritual or religious message here at all, of course.
Tony: Continuing down the road of linking spirituality and paranoia with The Thing, and comparing it to what’s going on in the world. Especially here in this time right now, it seems like to me that everybody is paranoid about one side of humanity trying to wipe out the other. For example, we have conservatives scrambling to keep in power, to stomp out whatever progressive or liberal policies they can, to eradicate all of that. And we have the other side, these people who understand the need to grow and change and stuff. Considering this, I’m surprised that Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) isn’t something that people aren’t talking about right now. I’m talking about the 1978 movie; I’ve never actually seen the 1956 original. But the 1970s version is a really good movie to watch right now, given the polarizing times in which we’re living, how it’s “You’re either with us or against us.” It is fucking scary to think, “What if I wake up and I’m one of them?” And it’s the same message with The Thing. What if you wake up and you’re one of THEM? All three of us see ourselves as very tolerant people, but what if we wake up one day and WE’VE become the aliens, the invaders, the monsters? That is some super scary shit.
Patrick: Such a good movie. At the same time, I’m hesitant to watch it, because November 3 is coming around. Having re-watched The Thing many times, my opinion is that MacReady is not the Thing, and was never assimilated at any point. I think he’s human even at the end, and I think they kind of explicitly point to Childs [Keith David’s character] as being infected, though that is a debate that will rage for the ages. But when you compare it to political beliefs and a change in one’s interaction with sociopolitical issues over time, one of the reasons why I feel so confident in MacReady not being the Thing is that he always has an analytical view of the situation, and he is very smart in how he interacts with the potential for infection and the potential for getting turned into the Thing. I see MacReady as a model for staying true to your innermost convictions; he remains himself no matter what, just like I am very confident I will never become politically conservative.
Tony: That’s a great point. But let’s look at what happens with Blair [Wilford Brimley’s character in The Thing]. Okay, so we don’t know when Blair was eaten by the Thing, exactly, but look what happened when he discovered the truth of how long it would take for the Thing to infect the entire world. He just goes berserk. It depends on how you react with it, but some people just can’t handle that kind of information, they literally go crazy. If we sat down and were shown a model telling us the human race will go extinct in 22 years, how would we react to that? If you’re like MacReady, you take an analytical route and go, “Alright, well I’m just gonna do the best I can do, and keep learning and keep going.” But if you’re like Blair, you just flip the fuck out and start diving into paranoia, like those people in the QAnon movement, and you start scrambling and going crazy.
Patrick: Yeah. I certainly don’t have the answers when it comes to helping the Blairs of the world…
G.B.: There have been several times this past year when I felt like I was almost turning into Blair!
Patrick: I have zero tolerance for things like QAnon; but at the same time, I don’t have the answers for someone who is scared. And you’re right, Tony; whether Blair’s reaction to the Thing is a “reasonable” response or not, it is still a real response, a valid experience that can occur when we see things that horrify us. My partner and I talk frequently about how much easier it would be to just not know anything and not care about anything outside of our media bubbles. So I am hesitant to ascribe a reaction like Blair’s to any kind of moral or ethical weakness.
Tony: Some people like to take that and make that their shiny new shield on their chest. “Well, look at me, I’m more put together than you!” And that just feeds off the negativity. As weird and as cheesy as it sounds, many of those people just need a fucking hug, man. OK, you’re scared! I get it. But there’s no need to act like a buffoon!
If you enjoyed this discussion, stay tuned for Part 2 in the next episode of In the Desert of Set!
How one of the goofier Halloween movies taught me to think beyond Hollywood depictions of Paganism, with a brief tribute to Donald Pleasence.
While Halloween 4 succeeded in breathing fresh life into the Halloween franchise, the series was almost killed off again with Halloween 5 (1989), which was rushed into production as soon as Halloween 4 proved successful. The production didn’t even have a completed script when filming began, and boy does it show. Halloween 5 is a sordid mess, with characters behaving in contemptible ways that make absolutely no sense, and with several aimless plot threads that were clearly only included to build up hype for the next movie. The most obvious of these missteps is the Man in Black, a mysterious asshole who wears cowboy boots and who keeps walking in and out of the movie, showing up at the very end to bust the Shape out of jail and kidnap his niece, Jamie Lloyd. And though Halloween 5 implied that the next installment would be released ASAP, we were not given Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers (otherwise known affectionately as Halloween 6) until about half a decade later.
When Halloween 6 opens, we learn the Man in Black leads a cult that appears to worship Michael Myers, and which has forced Jamie to bear a child (more on this in just a moment). One of the cultists seems to have a change of heart and helps Jamie escape with her newborn baby; but the Shape pursues them back to the town of Haddonfield, and yet another holiday murder spree begins.
There are actually two versions of Halloween 6—the 1995 Theatrical Cut, and the original Producer’s Cut (which wouldn’t see an official release until the 2010s). Both cuts are radically different from each other. The Producer’s Cut is what was originally put together before Donald Pleasence passed away shortly after filming wrapped in 1995. The director, Joe Chappelle, then re-filmed the entire ending and re-edited the rest of the movie for no apparent reason. We are thus left with two very unique films that tell completely asynchronous stories. Both versions are about Michael Myers stalking his niece, her baby, and a family that has moved into the Myers House (relatives of Laurie Strode, in fact). But the Producer’s Cut explains that Myers is merely a puppet for the Man in Black, who appears to be driven by (fanatical) Pagan beliefs. In the Theatrical Cut, the Man in Black’s motives are revealed to be more pseudoscientific than occult, and it turns out he does not actually have the Shape under his control at all.
Both versions of Halloween 6 feature a cult of so-called “druids” who worship a theoretical demon called “Thorn.” Both versions also posit that Michael Myers is possessed by this demon, thereby explaining his immortality and his drive to kill. The symbol for Thorn is actually the Norse rune Thurisaz (the third letter of the Elder Futhark), and it has nothing to do with the druids or with Celtic polytheism. It represents Mjollnir, the hammer of the thunder god Thor, and it is used to magically harness destructive and chaotic energies for protective ends. It is similar in principle to Khepesh, the starry Iron of Set, and and to the use of gargoyles in Christian church decor; it’s not about glorifying evil, but repelling it. So when certain characters claim that “Thorn” demands one family in Haddonfield be ritually murdered every now and again—and that Michael is simply the current bearer of this curse—I can confirm this is complete bullshit. This stuff is not based on any authentic Paganism; the writer, Daniel Farrands, simply pulled it out of his butt to fill all the gaping plot holes left over from Halloween 5.
While the Producer’s Cut still follows the tried and true slasher formula (“spooky killer stalks protagonists one-by-one”), it also follows the Satanic Panic formula (“community is besieged by murderous, rapey witches”). Here is where we return to the subject of Jamie Lloyd’s baby, who is eventually named Stephen. The parentage of this child is extremely controversial. In the original script, Stephen is the result of Jamie’s rape by the Man in Black, who impregnates her so that yet another member of the Myers family can be offered to Thorn. While the film was being shot, the script was rewritten on an almost daily basis, and for some unholy reason, someone thought it was a good idea to have Stephen be Michael’s kid instead. There is actually a flashback which implies the Thorn Cult tied Jamie to an altar and forced the Shape to rape her. There are so many things wrong with this idea, I’m not even sure where to begin. First of all, the Halloween movies generally aren’t known for using rape as a convenient plot device. The Shape is a brutal killing machine, and murder has always been its sole biological imperative; it’s never shown any kind of sexual interest in its victims whatsoever. And the idea that anyone could “force” the Shape to rape someone—given that this motherfucker can rip people’s skulls apart with its bare hands—is just ridiculous.
Those of us who grew up watching her in Halloween 4 and 5 really look up to Jamie Lloyd’s character; so when Halloween 6 was still in the works, we were all anxious to see how this mighty young warrior would outwit the Shape once again. And we were all promptly heartbroken. It’s bad enough that they didn’t want to pay Danielle Harris the salary she deserved and cast an older woman (J.C. Brandy) in the role instead. (Jamie should have been about 15 or so in 1995; but J.C. Brandy was clearly in her late twenties or early thirties when Halloween 6 was made.) It’s even worse, however, that they decided to write Jamie out of any future sequels by having her be raped and killed. Yes, these are horror movies, it’s understood that upsetting things are going to happen. But this was an awful, thoughtless, and totally mean-spirited thing to do to a beloved, cherished character. The truth is, I’m glad Danielle Harris wasn’t in this one, because I wouldn’t be able to sit through it at all if I had to watch the real Jamie Lloyd suffer such a cruel fate.
In the Theatrical Cut, baby Stephen is strongly hinted to be a product of artificial insemination. Both versions end at Smith’s Grove Sanitarium, which is the Thorn Cult’s base of operations; and both versions reveal the Man in Black to be Dr. Terence Wynn (played by Mitch Ryan, otherwise known as Will Riker’s dad), who is the head of the hospital. But here is where the similarities end. The Producer’s Cut concludes with Dr. Loomis and company disrupting a sacrificial ceremony and binding the Shape with “the power of the runes.” The Theatrical Cut climaxes with our heroes learning that the Thorn Cult is not really a cult at all, but a bunch of mad scientists conducting some ghoulish lab experiment. The sanitarium is filled with human fetuses in test tubes, and Dr. Wynn mentions something about Stephen being “a very special baby” who represents “the dawn of a new age.” We also learn the Shape has been murdering pregnant women in the hospital who seem to be related to the test tube babies somehow. The Thorn scientists don’t seem to be aware of Michael’s activities at present, perhaps thinking they have safely locked him away. That’s when the Shape busts in on their operation and butchers every scientist in sight. It then comes down to Paul Rudd bludgeoning Myers with a big lead pipe in a room full of fetuses (and trust me, it’s every bit as spectacular as it sounds!).
None of these events are ever explained in any coherent way, and one fan’s interpretation of events is as good as another’s. But for what it’s worth, here’s what I think the Halloween 6 Theatrical Cut is trying to say with all this craziness. Dr. Wynn and his cronies never believed in Thorn at all; they simply pretended to worship the force possessing Michael so he would allow them to get close to him. They don’t really believe in the Boogeyman, but they do acknowledge Michael’s superhuman strength. Their true goal is to clone the Shape’s DNA; perhaps they work for the military, or maybe they just want an army of Shapes they can control. They artificially inseminated all of their female “patients,” including Jamie, with little Myers clones, and Stephen has proven to be some kind of breakthrough. More than anything, they want Stephen back so they can continue their experiments on him; so they release Michael to track him down, with plans to recapture the Shape before it can actually murder its prey. After succeeding at this, Dr. Wynn dispenses with all pretense at being a “druid,” thinking he has fooled the Shape. But Michael Myers has actually been in control of the entire situation all along, keeping the “Thorn Cult” close to himself for his own purposes. And that’s when these other villains who think they’re oh so bad find out the Boogeyman is VERY fucking real, indeed!
Given this interpretation of events, I much prefer the Halloween 6 Theatrical Cut to the Producer’s Cut. The former is essentially an X-Files episode that just happens to feature Michael Myers, with tons of bizarre shit happening and none of it being explained (saving material for future installments). While it is still a ridiculous film with many flaws, this leaves a much better taste in my mouth than the alternative. The Producer’s Cut is more like a gothic Hammer film, which I would normally find appealing, save for this: it reduces the Shape to being little more than Kharis the Mummy, with Dr. Wynn as his Mehemet Bey. I also really resent the addition of all that Satanic Panic baloney, which is just unnecessary. The idea of people being raped for witchcraft might be essential to a story like Rosemary’s Baby, but it has never been a part of John Carpenter’s Halloween. With all due respect to Ira Levin, I just do not want to see any of that shit when I put on a Halloween movie. The idea of genetically engineering a race of Michael Myers clones is equally crazy when you compare it to the original 1978 film; but at least it’s my kind of crazy, dammit!
There are certain things about the Producer’s Cut that I happen to prefer, however. For one thing, there’s a whole lot more Donald Pleasence in that version, which is always a good thing (especially since this was his final appearance before he died). For whatever blasphemous reason, most of his scenes are either heavily trimmed or completely removed from the Theatrical Cut, and that’s just insulting. My number one reason for seeing Halloween 6 in the first place was to see how Dr. Loomis is doing, and to see what he does to stop the Shape this time. Removing most of his presence from the film leaves it feeling very hollow, like part of the movie’s soul has been lost. It helps that Dr. Loomis passes the torch to Tommy Doyle (played by Paul Rudd), who witnessed Michael’s first killing spree as one of the child characters in 1978. But the very last scene with Donald Pleasence in the Theatrical Cut (“I have a little business to attend to here…”) never fails to make me tear up a little.
Halloween 6 might be goofier than shit (no matter which of the two versions you prefer to watch), but seeing it was a major step in my coming to Paganism as a teenager. Donald Pleasence is also my all-time favorite actor, and it was very sad for me when his passing was first announced back in February 1995. I have always thought the Thurisaz rune would be much better suited to representing Dr. Loomis as a protector against the Shape, rather than the Shape itself; so I decided to include a song on my new 2020 album, Summer’s End, that honors the concept of Thurisaz, and which is also dedicated to the memory of Donald Pleasence. I pray you will enjoy this offering, good sir!
Why Halloween 4 (1988) is one of my favorite flicks to watch for the Samhain season.
John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978) made a shit-ton more money than anyone was betting it would, and that ending just screamed for a follow-up. Carpenter never intended to make any sequels, but was legally forced into making one for contractual reasons. The mixed result was Halloween II (1981), which takes place on the same night as the original. The Shape is still on the loose in Haddonfield in 1978, with Dr. Loomis and the fuzz in hot pursuit. Laurie Strode is taken to the local hospital for her injuries, and the Shape follows her there, stalking and slashing through the entire graveyard shift. Meanwhile, Loomis comes to suspect that Michael Myers is driven to kill by some kind of “druidic curse.” The final act begins when it’s revealed that Laurie is actually Michael’s younger sister, whom he apparently meant to kill in 1963 along with his elder sibling Judith. All hell breaks loose when Dr. Loomis shows up at the hospital to save Laurie and blow himself and the Shape to smithereens.
Halloween II broke some big box office records of its own, so it was only a matter of time before another sequel would be greenlit. Carpenter insisted on taking the series in a new direction, turning it into an anthology like The Twilight Zone. Hence why Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982) has nothing at all to do with the Michael Myers storyline. I will save my analysis of Halloween III for later, but suffice it to say for now that the film was not very well received by audiences at the time, making the Shape’s resurrection inevitable.
Jason Voorhees and Freddy Krueger were making big bank in the mid- to late 1980s, and executive producer Moustapha Akkad was determined that Michael Myers should do the same. He approached John Carpenter for his input on a potential Halloween 4, but the two of them just couldn’t see eye to eye. Carpenter pitched a really weird script by horror novelist Dennis Etchinson that has the Shape returning from the dead as some kind of reality-bending ghost. It’s actually pretty neat, but Akkad just wanted to “go back to the basics” (or “Xerox the original” according to Carpenter), and Carpenter sold his interest in the franchise. Akkad then assembled his own creative team, headed by director Dwight H. Little, and produced Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers in 1988. The end product is not quite as interesting as what Dennis Etchinson cooked up for us, but it still turned out pretty awesome in my book.
Halloween 4 ignores its immediate predecessor and picks up 10 years after the events of the first two movies, which technically makes it Michael Myers’ second killing spree. It also rewrites the ending of Halloween II so the Shape and Dr. Loomis weren’t immolated in that hospital explosion after all; they were burned and disfigured, but survived. Myers has been in a coma at a maximum security prison ever since, and Dr. Loomis has never left his side. Presumably the prison staff are tired of Loomis always demanding they take his patient off life support, for they arrange to have Myers transferred to some other facility across the state without the doctor’s knowledge. This might not have turned out so bad, except they decide to do this on the night of October 30. To make shit worse, the paramedics transporting the prisoner stupidly discuss the fact that Laurie Strode, while now deceased from a car accident, had a daughter named Jamie Lloyd (nice touch), who is currently living with a foster family back in Haddonfield. That’s when the “comatose” Michael Myers snaps into action and butchers every motherfucker in the ambulance; then he returns to Haddonfield and relentlessly stalks his niece the following Halloween night.
While it is extremely derivative of the 1978 original, Halloween 4 is actually a pretty fantastic movie, and there are two primary reasons for this. First, Donald Pleasence really shines as Dr. Loomis in this one. In fact, he is practically an action movie hero here, doing all kinds of crazy stunts (the exploding gas station sequence being one of my favorite scenes in the entire franchise). This shit could not have been easy for a 69-year-old WWII veteran to do, but Donald Pleasence did it anyway, and I love him for it. I can’t stress enough how his character is really what kept me coming back for more of these movies when I was a young’un. Seeing Dr. Loomis stick it to the authorities and risk his life and reputation to rescue a scared and defenseless 9-year-old girl always makes my heart glow! Plus, virtually everything he says throughout Halloween 4 is a classic one-liner. I think of Dr. Loomis as being an avatar of Set in these movies: the grim, doomy outcast who hunts down the evil regardless of whether he is ever thanked or recognized for doing so, and who is every bit as relentless in this pursuit as Michael Myers is in stalking his niece.
Which brings us to the second reason why Halloween 4 is so awesome: Danielle Harris, the talented young lady who plays Jamie Lloyd. There was simply no better child actor in the 1980s than Harris. If I didn’t know any better (and I do), I’d think the filmmakers were actually trying to kill her. This was definitely not the case, as every effort was made to make Harris feel totally comfortable with George P. Wilbur, the stuntman who plays the Shape. She also got to hang out with Donald Pleasence between shoots, and he would tell her all kinds of crazy stories (which must have been fuckin’ awesome). But when Harris screams or runs away from the Shape on film, she really SELLS it, making me want to leap through my TV screen and save her myself!
There is something to be said for the fact that Myers stalks a child for this venture. Other popular horror sequels at the time were becoming self-parodies, with slashers like Jason and Freddy getting up to all kinds of goofy hijinks (like going to Manhattan, or appearing in music videos by the hair metal band, Dokken). Having the Shape target a little girl really heightens the stakes in comparison, especially when we remember that Laurie Strode was a teenager in 1978 and could actually fight back against Michael. But Jamie depends on the adults around her to do all the fighting for her, and when most of those adults AREN’T Dr. Loomis, the situation is made even more suspenseful.
Halloween 4 is superior to Halloween II for several important reasons. While certain aspects of the latter film are classic and iconic in their own right (such as the hospital setting and the idea of having it take place on the same night as the first movie), the film is dreadfully paced (that entire second act is a total snoozefest), there is too much absurdist gore, and the bits about Celtic religion are especially distracting (given they are pure gibberish). The “family vendetta” premise nullifies the idea from the first movie that Myers is completely arbitrary in his actions (which is a much scarier idea to me personally). And while his newfound motive would seem to give Laurie a role of central importance, Halloween II puts her character to little use, rendering her drugged, silent, and powerless until the conclusion. But here in Halloween 4, the pacing is just right, the amount of gore is significantly reduced, and we don’t have to sit through any of that anti-druidic bullshit. Also, Danielle Harris’ performance as Jamie is so fucking intense, it makes me forget how stupid the “family vendetta” storyline from Halloween II really is.
Halloween 4 takes a big risk by not only presumably killing Michael Myers once and for all, but by passing his curse on to Jamie, driving her to re-enact her uncle’s original murder in 1963 by stabbing her foster-mother to death. The film ends with Dr. Loomis discovering what Jamie has done and screaming hysterically, understanding immediately that the Shape has now taken a new incarnation. Given this set-up, Halloween 5 seemed ready to begin in 2003 (15 years later), with a full-grown female Shape terrorizing everybody on Halloween that year. Something like that might have been pretty damn cool; but we ended up with a lot of bullshit instead.
An interview with the Kemetic and Neo-Pharaonic artist Setken regarding his new film, The Praying Mantis God of Ancient Egypt, in which we meet another of Set’s theological colleagues: the Netjer Abyt.
For today’s adventure, we have a very special guest: the artist Setken, who creates Neo-Pharaonic art inspired by the ancient Kemetic or Egyptian Netjeru. Setken’s artistic range extends beyond painting, even though the latter is his primary focus. This includes singing and writing in a band, physique and physical display escapades, as well as writing and acting. This magnificent servant of the Netjeru has just released a mini-documentary about the praying mantis god of ancient Egypt, which concerns a little-known Netjer by the name of Abyt. Listeners can view the film for free at vimeo.com/setken, and I encourage everyone to check it out!
And now, without any further ado, please welcome Setken!
G.B.: Setken, welcome to the show!
SETKEN: Thanks for having me on, G.B., it’s an honor!
G.B.: I just want to say, I’m not just blowing steam up your ass; you really are one of my favorite artists. All of your paintings that you have been producing that I’ve seen over the past—what has it been, a decade?
SETKEN: Yeah, it’s getting close to a decade now.
G.B.: Yes, especially the Winged Set piece. That one has always been my favorite.
SETKEN: It’s still one of my favorites, and I was just remarking to a friend tonight that I don’t know how I actually created that piece as early on in my painting career as I did, because it was way, way ahead of what I was doing at the time.
G.B.: What year was that?
SETKEN: That was 2013, so it’s coming up to its seven year anniversary. But that is still one of my favorite paintings.
G.B.: Well, I guess that opens the door for what we’re really here to discuss tonight: a very well-unknown ancient Egyptian deity by the name of ABYT.
G.B.: A god whom, of whom, or for whom I should probably say, you have just recently directed, produced, and released a short documentary entitled The Praying Mantis God of Ancient Egypt, right? I just want to thank you for making this thing in the first place, because the end product is just amazingly educational and spiritual to watch.
SETKEN: Well, thanks. And thanks for your kind words about my paintings before as well. I didn’t quite get that in. This was a first crack at trying to find new ways to show my art, which is part of how the documentary came out. It’s just I’m happy with the way it’s turned out, you know; there are some rough edges to it. But as a short experimental documentary, I’m happy with how it turned out. I’m glad that you, and now more people, have started to see it as well—that you and others are starting to find some value in it.
G.B.: I’ll probably mention this multiple times as we speak; but for the listeners, this video is currently available at Setken’s vimeo.com website. Is that correct?
SETKEN: Yeah, if you go to Vimeo.com and search for Setken, all of my public videos are there. Alternatively, you can go to my website, and at the very bottom of the page, all of my social media contacts are there along the social media bar at the bottom. There’s like five different socials. You can have a look at it, and that will lead you to the documentary one way or the other, because it’s really all I’ve been raving on about at the moment.
G.B.: Oh SHIT, what was my next question?
[Both speakers laughing.]
SETKEN: You started to ask about Abyt, and because He is unknown and everything, we got distracted.
G.B.: Oh yeah. So, can you talk a little more about this sort of multimedia approach that you are taking?
SETKEN: Sure. So I gave my one and only exhibition at the beginning of 2018, and we made a documentary about that as well (called Neo-Pharaonic). I should pronounce that right, probably [laughs]. That was the name of the exhibition, and we did a 15-minute documentary about that with thoughts are on that Neo site, if people are keen to see that. And whilst I’m glad that I did it, I came away with a feeling of dissatisfaction that this is the only way to show my art, because it’s the accepted way. And that made me think about the history of art and how it’s traditionally being used and shown, and all of that stuff that I’m sure you would probably explore by going to art school, which I never did. And I came out of it feeling, it’s unacceptable that this should be the only way I get to show you my work—which is representative of, you know, hours and hours of creative time, and you know, is painted from the depths of my souls. So I started to think more and more about how there could be different ways to show what I’m doing, and even perhaps use the paintings as a kind of springboard to move into something else; and that’s how it began.
SETKEN: I started to write short film scripts where the paintings were pivotal in the storyline—which you know, was a short five-minute film, so there wasn’t that much of a big storyline to go with it—but it was very visual. But then I came up against the thing of, well to fund something like that is going to be, you know, a small fortune just to get it the basics filmed. Having someone to film it, directors, lighting, and all that sort of stuff. So those projects got left on the sidelines; but fast-forward to pandemic times, and I’ve got the Galaxy Note 10.1 camera phone. It’s more of a camera that it is a phone, with a multimedia station, and I’ve had that for quite a few months and had already worked out that the filming capabilities on this thing. It’s pretty amazing because I had been filming my paintings and putting them up on my Patreon for people. Give them, you know, a good look at them whatever. So, I guess that sat in the back of my mind, and then when Abyt mantis documentary came into being, it was almost like, you know, “The gates are open now! Off you go!” And I did pretty well with all the filming for it myself.
SETKEN: I wrote the script; one piece had to be filmed outdoors. So a friend filmed that for me; but apart from that, all of the raw material I had already made; I didn’t have to wait for funding or someone else to come in and help me. I got a simple editing suite thing that I downloaded, you know, and went from there. And then to pull the final products together wasn’t very difficult at all, because I had yourself, who contributed the music, and my friend Ptahmassu, who contributed the transliterations of the texts. Then I got my friend Christian at Spacetone to do the editing, and it was complete. So the process was a lot smoother and slicker out of necessity, because the other thing is, of course, you can’t have too many people around when you’re in a Stage Four lockdown helping you to make a film. So that’s how that came about.
G.B.: I have to imagine this simpler process is also a little bit more affordable?
SETKEN: Yeah. Yeah, you know I already had the lights—the colored lights that I used in the video. I already had them because I use them in my ritual space. I already had the plinths made up from the Neo-Pharaonic exhibition, you know, the plinths with my cartouche logo on it. I love it. I have a mantis on it.
G.B.: By the way, that was probably my favorite shot in the whole film!
SETKEN: Oh, yeah, it’s cool, huh? That particular mantis is really what I use in place of a statue for Abyt on my altar, because there are no statues of Him yet. So I basically got that from a kid’s playset, painted it up in this super cool black paint, which I just happened to have sitting here that this guy in England makes. It’s meant to be a take on vantablack, which is the black that they use to paint airplanes and things so it looks like you’re looking into a black hole.
G.B.: Well you’ve impressed the hell out of me, because I thought—I thought that was an actual bug in that shot!
SETKEN: Oh, really? Really? Right up to me just saying this now?
G.B.: Yes! Oh my goodness. Either you are really good, or I’m just totally losing my eyesight or something, because I thought it was real!
SETKEN: That particular statue’s been on my altar for some time. So there’s been a lot of heka around it. And besides that particularly amazing black, I gave it those purple eyes, and there’s all kinds of magic associated with that. So it has got a kind of life to it. I’m glad that it had that effect! Maybe everyone else thinks that, as well. That’s really cool! That could be the highlight of my day actually!
G.B.: Oh good! Well that that opens the door nicely to start discussing just who is Abyt, exactly? So I gotta be honest with you, I didn’t even know there were any mantises in Egypt!
SETKEN: Yes. So the Egyptians were very keen observers of nature, and besides wall art, with their depictions of life in the swamps that feature different insects. The Abyt mantis was actually used as a glyph in one place in particular, which was King Seti I’s tomb, and it is a piece taken from The Book of Opening the Mouth. It’s probably not a surprise that people may not be aware of it, because that tomb—until very, very recently—has been closed for about 50 years, because it’s one of the most spectacular tombs as far as tomb decoration goes in Egypt (if not one of the most), and it was deteriorating very badly. So the Ministry of Antiquities closed it permanently, but then they reopened it within the last 18 months—very, very recently they’ve reopened it. And this particular line that features the mantis—which I’ve made a sketch of, that goes all the way through the documentary, is on the poster, and is featured in a colorized version at the top of my painting, Kemetery—it is basically that glyph. And it’s unusual because they’ve emphasized the long neck, which I comment about in the documentary, and because of the habits and the way the creature behaves. Some Egyptologists have remarked that it’s strange we haven’t heard more about the deity [Abyt] than we have, just by its freaky nature alone, and the way it looks like it’s praying and looking at you and everything else.
SETKEN: The other two texts where Abyt is mentioned; His name is spelled out with the hieroglyphs and the determinatives that had been used. I’m studying Egyptian hieroglyphs at the moment. So, a determinative is a glyph which will be placed at the end of a sentence to let you know what is being referred to, in case that’s unclear. They have the two texts that I have mentioned in the documentary; in one case they actually used the pintail duck, and in another this wingless fly—which doesn’t appear very much anywhere else. I believe there are some versions of the text that actually include Abyt Himself, because of course The Book of the Dead was translated over and over inside coffins and things at different stages of Egyptian history. So there would have been scribes who perhaps used different glyphs for different things, rather than translating the exact original over time. But I think this points to the fact that Abyt may not be as easy to “pin down” in one form as, perhaps, some of the other Netjeru. We know that from the glyphs that were used, there are references to Him “flying,” to Him being able to “lift up something,” to something “going away from the ground,” and to something “making its way.” And the reason for this is because it’s not spelled out in the texts exactly what He is. Egyptologists have argued over who and what He is; are the Egyptians referring to a deity? Is it saying that this creature, in and of itself, is the thing that’s showing the person past the king’s house and into the realm of the gods?
SETKEN: Well, we know as mystics and people who have an interest in the numinous that the ancients wouldn’t have just simply listed something mundane in relation to the Divine, and I think the key text here is the one from King Seti I’s tomb—the one from The Opening of the Mouth, where the actual mantis itself is used as the determinative of the word itself in the phrase. And the phrase is, “I have seen my Father in his every form; the form of the Abyt mantis.” Well, the king is divine and born of the Divine. So to suggest that he isn’t would be, you know, a Kemetic blasphemy!
SETKEN: So I think that text is a qualifier as far as, you know, conservative Egyptology goes. My experiences that have developed with the deity over the years paint a picture of Him and who and what He is that is, you know, entirely related to my experience. But I do find synchronicities here and there that crop up, and I also note that the ǀXam tribe in South Africa had a praying mantis god called ǀKaggen. His primary form was a praying mantis, but He also had many other forms, and they emphasize that with Him.
G.B.: Just going back to the glyphs; so I can see the mantis, the bee and the wingless fly, but then they throw in that duck, and it’s like, “Whoa!”
SETKEN: Yeah, I’m still getting to the bottom of the duck thing as well. I’m not sure exactly why the duck is there in that context.
G.B.: This does remind me of another thing, though, that I meant to mention to you earlier, and which would take some further investigation on my part to really delve into it (and I’m not exactly sure how practical that would be). However, I know that Kenneth Grant wrote often about the symbolism of the bee; bees are apparently very significant in the Typhonian Tradition of Thelema for some reason. I’m not the best person to explain why, I’d have to do some further research. I don’t know why that suddenly made me remember that, though.
SETKEN: Now that you’ve given me that thread, I’ll investigate it. The bee is definitely one, like when [E.A. Wallis] Budge did the translation of The Opening of the Mouth. After he did the translation or transliteration, he said it is unclear; he said on the one hand it could be read as mantis; on the other hand, it’s bee; and hornet is in there as well. They also had glyphs for all three of these creatures, so for some reason it’s deliberately unclear. I feel the energy of the bee is much more aligned to Abyt than perhaps the duck, and I’ve noticed that when I paint Abyt in profile, with His head on the side, you could look at that and think it was a bee. Yeah, so I’ll have a look at what Kenneth Grant has written about the bee—which, as I mentioned in the documentary, is pronounced byt. Not Abyt, just byt—and of course, we’re speculating about the vowel sounds; we can only guess at that because the language has been lost. But the bee is one of the determinatives that’s used whenever the king’s name is written. The bee and the reed basically means you are talking about the Pharaoh.
SETKEN: Yeah. If you look into the ǀXam tribe (I hope I’m saying that right), [their mantis deity] ǀKaggen is tied up with other creatures as well, like mammals. This isn’t the first time a Netjer would have many forms of many creatures associated with it like that. Look at, for example, Set—we would say that the Sha is most likely His most identifiable and predominant form; but then there is, of course, the oryx and the gazelle, the pig, and panthers, etc. I had a lot of fun painting Set in His anthropomorphic oryx form in one of my paintings.
G.B.: Back to Abyt though. I’m just curious; do we wonder—do we know if it is a male deity or a female deity, or maybe something different?
SETKEN: I think, because in one of the texts specifically, the male is referenced in that one—“I have seen my Father in His every form.” And I sense, when I connect with Him in meditation or whatever, that that He is male. I sense that.
G.B.: When did you first become interested in Abyt, exactly?
SETKEN: So I keep diaries of my dreams, and I will write my dreams down after they happen, and also meditation experiences. And I noticed this praying mantis being, showing up in various contexts. So I was unsure at that stage who and what He was, because I couldn’t find Him attested to in the literature that’s been uncovered over time from ancient Kemet. So the relationship more or less continued with me not knowing. I think that was the way it had to be in the beginning, and to a large degree, it’s the way that it has to be now. I think Abyt is tied up with the higher mysteries of life, and when we get involved with Him, we’re looking “under the skirt” of reality and creation and evolution and beingness—and you may not be prepared for what you’re going to see.
SETKEN: It is so cool! So, I went on a quest to try and find pictures of this mantis coffin and mummy, and I couldn’t find it anywhere. Since Bernard Bruyère is the Egyptologist who discovered the coffin back in 1929, I wrote to the museums in Brussels—because he’s Belgian, and that’s where all his work ended up. Could not get an answer. I tried Google Search, I tried everything, and occasionally I would notice things that happened with the phrase I read earlier (“I have seen my Father in His every form”). That finally came about, after years of looking for it, via Ptahmassu. He’s got access to the hardcore original translations of these texts as they were found back in the early 1900s. So he was able to come up and find that for me. This is how my research seems to go—I’ll have a period of intense looking for something; you let it go, and then all of a sudden, something emerges. And this is what happened with the mantis coffin.
SETKEN: I get this magazine called Nile. And even though their delivery of the magazine is rather random—it seems to show up whenever they feel like sending it out.
G.B.: Oh my goodness! [Laughing.]
SETKEN: It doesn’t seem to be what I’d call, erm…
G.B.: A “periodical”?
SETKEN: [Laughs.] It’s more like an annual at the moment! This company, a book shop in France called Meretseger Books, advertised in there. I thought, “I’m going to write this guy and see if he knows.” His name is Francois, the gentleman who runs the shop, and he wrote back to me. So that was something new, someone writing back is always nice! Unfortunately with academia, if you’re writing to academics, they’re going to be looking for the letters after your name or the institution you’re studying at, and if you don’t have those, they probably relegate you to “this is not worthy of my time” or “I don’t have time to do it,” or whatever.
SETKEN: So anyway, this guy wrote back and said, “Can you give me more information—was this ever published in a periodical?” So I looked and went back to Linda Evans’s paper, and it did have references to where [the mummy coffin] was, because academics have to do that. So I sent [this information] back to [Francois], and within a day, he had sent me an image and a PDF of the mantis coffin, which is anthropoid. The head looks mantis-ish and human at the same time, and then inside of it is, you know, a disintegrated mantis mummy. And when I saw that, the Abyt documentary was born at that very moment, and I just had to do something with it. I just had to. I was in a particularly raw creative state because you know, I’m not working at the moment, because we’re in Stage 4 lock downs. I’ve not been working most of the year, and I just had this open space to do what I wanted to do—and that’s how it came about.
G.B.: That’s such an amazing story; it’s really cool that fellow answered you and sent you the photo. I’m still getting over the fact that they mummified mantises, too!
SETKEN: Right! Now we know they mummified other creatures that we don’t necessarily associate with deity; but is it because we just haven’t associated them with deity yet? Are we waiting for a text that will have the Netjer determinative to say, “Well, this is a deity”? In fact, the Kemetics associated all kinds of creatures with all kinds of gods. So perhaps we need to rethink how the ancients were thinking about deity per se; that’s my take on it.
G.B.: Well it makes sense, and it seems only logical. I mean, a religion in which so much of nature is considered divine; why would they draw the line at mantises, you know? Like there are cats and cows and falcons and ibises and jackals. Why not mantises too, right?
SETKEN: Right. It just doesn’t make sense. Well, I think further down the track, because they are making more discoveries in Egypt. According to archaeology and Egyptology, they’ve only uncovered not even a third of what they know is there. And as ground-penetrating radar gets more and more sophisticated, we’re likely to get a much larger picture of ancient Egypt. And as that emerges, I guess the question is going to be, will Egyptology as a science be able to keep up? Because it’s not changed a lot in the 200 years that it’s been around, and they’ve got some pretty set ideas about how they look at that part of our ancient history. I’m not saying [their ideas are] necessarily wrong; but when a cross-disciplined scientist comes into the fold, I guess like all the disciplines they don’t want to share their work with anyone else that’s going to perhaps challenge their own findings, as we’re talking tenure and publications that need to be changed, et cetera.
SETKEN: But we all know the story of John Anthony West’s friend Robert M. Schoch, who just happened to accompany him on a trip to Egypt and, as I understand it, didn’t have a particularly big interest in Egyptology itself (apart from the general fascination of it that most people have got). He’s standing at the Sphinx enclosure, and he’s a geologist, and he just happens to look at the walls and realize that the dating of the Sphinx is quite likely wrong. It’s thousands of years older than what was thought. So they did test it, they went and tested the enclosure and the Sphinx itself. And the conclusions (according to geology) is that that thing was carved originally about 10,000 years ago. Traditionally, Egyptology will not accept that—they want to align the Sphinx with the reign of King Khufu. So that’s an interesting case in point.
G.B.: So earlier you mentioned ritual space, and I believe that this is the same space in which you filmed the artistic sequences of your film. Is that correct?
SETKEN: So I recreated my ritual space in my outdoor shed, because it’s larger and I could set it up to look more visually appealing. But I used the plinths, the incense, and the lights to get the same kind of feeling that I get in my shrine room. I basically converted my shed into a studio to get those ritual sequences.
G.B.: That is amazing—and also something that I really kind of want to do! [Laughs.]
SETKEN: Yeah, you’d be good at it!
G.B.: So what’s next? What kind of projects are you thinking about exploring next?
SETKEN: Most of the paintings I’ve done this year are studies, which means they are preparations for the final version of that work. So the three studies I’ve created so far—and there’s a fourth one coming—will eventually go into their final painting form. So that’s the next step. There’s more paintings coming featuring sacred texts—they tend to generate paintings on their own. I’m thinking about recreating two of my earlier paintings that, for some reason, I’m either unhappy with (in the case of one), and just that I think that I can tell more of a story in the case of the second (by doing another version of it). So that more on the painting side as far as video projects go.
SETKEN: I’m doing a new video project for Nehebukau, who is one of the snake gods of the Kemetic pantheon. Your listeners will be interested to know that you’ve done the music for that as well! We’ve not really mentioned this, you did the music for the Praying Mantis God of Ancient Egypt documentary.
G.B.: Oh shit! Yeah, I forgot this whole time. [Laughing.]
SETKEN: I didn’t even think about that, but it will be a video project about Nehebukau, rather than a documentary. It’s something a bit different. Then, I am revisiting my painting, Winged Set, which is turning seven years old this year. So there’s a project related to that.
G.B.: Lucky number seven, huh?
SETKEN: Yeah, lucky seven, right? I want to put The Praying Mantis God of Ancient Egypt onto a DVD, with all the uncut ritual sequences. This will be special, just for patrons. So I’ll put that on the same DVD, and that will be something to give to future patrons, you know, who join up whenever, and you get sent that. I also want to go back to Egypt.
G.B.: To revisit some favorite places, or to explore something new?
SETKEN: To explore something new. They’ve reopened Seti I’s tomb, of course, so I’ve got to go there. I want to go back inside the Red Pyramid, just because I have to do that. But I’m also interested in creating a new painting of a mausoleum in Cairo of one of their famous politicians, whose name is Saad Zaghloul; I’d like to paint him and his mausoleum. So they’re the reasons I’d like to return to Egypt.
G.B.: That’ll be a trip!
SETKEN: Yeah, and I guess I want to do a painting about Charles Musès, who created this thing called the Lion Path, and who is famously known as discovering a branch of mathematics. He was also an Egyptologist, and he discovered the Pyramid of King Ameny Qemau (whose name has come up a couple of times recently in Egyptology because they discovered a stele that references him). There was a collapsed pyramid that was unopened—that belonged to someone who they’re pretty sure was his daughter.
G.B.: Yeah, all these new discoveries and stuff. Going back to what you were mentioning earlier, just real quick, about Egyptology changing and what-not. That is one of the things I’ve always loved about Egypt, is that it just seems like for every one thing we reasonably know for sure about what they believed and did, there are countless other things that we don’t. And with new information coming in every couple of decades or whatever, and we’re going to have some new information.
SETKEN: Yes, because new discoveries happen. You would think this would add to our library of how we think about the ancient Kemetic world; but if that library is constantly filtered through an academic lens, but only wants to see something one particular way—or if it’s being filtered through the lens of Victorian England, or if it’s being filtered through the lens of another religion—where they are going to get the same kind of answer? I guess the point I was making back then is, bring on all the new discoveries! But let’s also look at them as ways that we can expand how we’re thinking about the ancients, rather than drawing a conclusion that is just more of the same to bolster up what we originally thought about them. [Kemetic] culture is so rich, it has a much richer yield than perhaps we’re currently paying full attention to anyway.
G.B.: I agree with you completely. Well, I suppose it’s only right I should mention a little bit of my process of how I composed the music for your film real quick!
SETKEN: I don’t think “real quick,” I mean it’s an important part of the documentary! So please, tell us about it!
G.B.: Not too much to it, really; it’s kind of like how you were mentioning earlier with your Galaxy phone. I have a Samsung something or other—I don’t know, I’m no good with this shit. But it’s also got like some pretty nifty apps on it and stuff. I found a variety of voice changers, a variety of synthesizer apps. Earlier this summer, when I first put together the Dua SutekhEP; well first of all, that whole thing was the result of pandemic-mania. Living in quarantine and not having enough shit to do, and one day playing around with voice changers and changing my voice over and over again. And that’s all [Dua Sutekh] really is, just my voice over and over again on each layer, manipulated to sound like it’s not.
SETKEN: I didn’t know that!
G.B.: And with Mantis Religiosa, the piece I did for your film, I didn’t quite keep it that “pure.” I used a couple of different synthesizer apps that I found that replicate old-school sequencers, like the kind of shit where they don’t even have any keys on the instruments, you’re just playing with dials and everything, you know? I started with that to create the two basic structures of the piece, because it really ended up being divided into two. I’m not quite sure why, it just ended up that way. That was the baseline for the piece, and then I went over that with my voice changer technique to make it a little bit, you know, rawer and fuzzier. I really wanted to capture the idea of fluttering insect wings, but couldn’t quite find the right noise samples. So I just had to kind of get creative and make it myself. But that’s not to say that there is no sampling at all, because I did decide to sample from one of my very favorite horror movies: Quatermass and the Pit from 1964. A fantastic British horror movie about—you guessed it—mantises from outer space! Mantises that genetically modified our primate ancestors to produce the witches and warlocks that roam this planet today. That’s some pretty heavy shit!
SETKEN: I love that film, and I only recently watched it because of your reference to it on In the Desert of Set. I really liked that film, and I know it’s very much the era of crappy BBC effects and everything, right?
G.B.: But still a great story.
SETKEN: It was a great story, and I liked what they did with that sequence where they hooked up whatever that device was that could go back in time, and there was that mass of insect people overcoming the planet and all that stuff flying on the sand coming to Earth; I think it was genius. But what you did with that; I was going to ask you. The very beginning of the track, where the words Mantis Religiosa are spoken—I didn’t know that was you, and I actually thought it sounds like Vincent Price. Is that what you’re going for?
G.B.: With a lot of help from the voice changers!! [Laughter.]. Thank you! It’s sort of like a little homage to Alice Cooper’s Welcome To My Nightmare, the sequence with the Black Widow and Vincent Price showing off his spider collection. Which, by the way, if you ever find a mummified—if you ever find evidence of mummified spiders, don’t tell me, okay? Let’s just draw the line there!
SETKEN: [Laughing.] Okay. I’m pretty sure there is a spider glyph.
G.B.: There would have to be, I’m sure; I know there’s scorpions.
SETKEN: Definitely, and there is a scorpion goddess, who is a rather powerful being. But yeah, I’ll find out if there’s a spider glyph, just for you.
G.B.: Oh God. [Laughing.] Okay, last question. so I’m sure that there are relatives of my family—or somebody’s family—watching this documentary at home, and they’re wondering, “What the fuck is there a mummy stripping? What’s with that stripping mummy?”
SETKEN: That’s a very good question. So I referenced earlier that I’d made some short film scripts because I was looking at ways of trying to tell the story of paintings in a more creative way, and I have a mummy costume in my repertoire of costumes that I’ve held onto—from when I used to be a stripper. And the mummy costume was a particularly good one that didn’t get a lot of use because in fact it was part of—I did this mini Rocky Horror Show version, okay, and the idea was that I would do two characters from The Rocky Horror Show and two or three songs. From that, whilst hosting an event—and I did actually have a Halloween event that I got hired for years ago when I was living overseas; I think I’ve actually got that on my Vimeo and I tried to make it private, but I’ve got it as part of my profile for Star now, which is an actor’s website—because you know, we need to think of all of our skills and different ways of making money when you’re not allowed to work in a gym because the chief medical officer thinks it’s a breeding ground for bugs.
SETKEN: So anyway, I digress; I had the mummy costume as part of Rocky’s costume for The Rocky Horror Show, and I thought I could use that mummy because the concept has not been lost on me—looking deeply into the symbolism of ancient Egypt as a cocoon for the soul to rise out of. So I’ve used it as something along those lines in the documentary. And the idea of projecting alternating pictures of the coffin and the mummified mantis because you realize that’s what’s going on while all of that is happening right now. Having that projected onto my body onto the mummy wrappings as I go emerging into something else.
SETKEN: I’m interested in a era of photography and video from the 50s and 60s called the Athletic Model Guild, and it was the beginning or perhaps the precursor to bodybuilding. Bob Mizer, the guy who created it, was interested in the male physique as I am—not only as an artist, but as an amateur bodybuilder, I guess, even though I have professionally competed and stuff like that. I still consider myself an amateur, because I’ve only recently got back into some sort of shape. And I guess wanted to show it off, and was able to weave that into the artistic interpretation of what I was doing with the documentary. And so I think people will definitely look at that thing—What the fuck is this? What’s going on with this? But I think I’ve weaved it in a way that is kind of interesting certainly. It was fun for me to do. But if you’re looking for the inspiration for it, look up Athletic Model Guild, and that should answer some of some of those questions! Of course, I’ve used my makeup and stuff that I use whenever I’m public as Setken, so that of course was in there too. That wouldn’t be used in a legit AMG shoot if I was ever to recreate one. But anyway, these are the things we do with artists to take, you know, different takes on things.
G.B.: That’s really fascinating. As you know, I’ve been working with all kinds of public domain footage from yesteryear. I have like a curious fascination with old footage I guess. Not sure if “industrial films” is like the right term, but like, films that were made not necessarily as like to tell a story or whatever, they’re just showing some aspect of culture or whatever that you don’t really see much anymore, or at least not everywhere today. Is that something that still happens today with the Guild?
SETKEN: Bob Mizer passed away some time ago, and he left all of his work—a considerable library of negatives and prints and film—and that’s created the Bob Mizer Foundation, which you contribute to so they can hire people to catalog and preserve these negatives and films and prints because they really are telling an interesting story about the male physique. And what we now know as bodybuilding was starting to emerge into Western society and culture after perhaps not being considered for thousands of years. The Greeks were really the last ones to really look at, and specialize in, the male form to the degree that they did. So it’s interesting to look at it through that lens. There’s also the looking at it through the lens of homoerotic male art and looking at the male body in a sexual context, which of course was taboo then, and is to a degree now, as well as how we consider the male body in the current context and the sexualizing of it. So all of that was there in what he was doing, and there is some sordid stuff because the models that he had—he had this system of “hieroglyphics,” for want of a better word, that he used to make notes to himself about who the model was and whether or not they might they may be interested in sexual persuasions that were considered illegal at the time. So there’s that stream as well, which is interesting.
G.B.: What a horrible way to live.
SETKEN: Yeah, he was fascinating, and his is an art form in and of itself. You look at his art and you say that’s Bob Mizer photography, the same way that you might recognize a [Robert] Mapplethorpe painting. He had a style happening, you know, right from the get-go.
G.B.: That’s really cool that you were able to work that influence into this. Quatermass, mantises, the male physique, and the—say it again? The AMG?
SETKEN: Yes that’s right, the Athletic Model Guild.
G.B.: This is such an eclectic web of ingredients!
SETKEN: I think so! I very much got told earlier this year by one of the Netjeru that it’s time to get your stuff out there. Like do it, do it, and I’ve held back on a lot of artistic stuff at my own over the years for whatever reason. So this documentary was in some ways a crude manifestation of a lot of things coming together in one. I’m happy with the way it turned out.
G.B.: Well, thank you so much once again for joining me here tonight, Setken it’s been a real treat to have you onboard. Thank you for being my first and only guest on the podcast so far! And thank you so much for the opportunity to contribute to your project. I just really loved the film, and I hope that everyone out there listening will go watch it on Vimeo.com and perhaps give some consideration to visiting your Patreon account as well!
SETKEN: Yes, that would be cool! Every bit helps. I do keep Patreon-only content for people; you want to reward the people that have gone that little bit step further to invest in what you’re doing. I’m very grateful for my patrons, I’m very grateful you asked me to do this podcast, and I’m grateful for your amazing contribution to the documentary.
G.B.: Thank you! And on that note, Dua Abyt, and SET BLESS!
SETKEN: Dua Abyt! Dua Sutekh!
And to close out today’s adventure, here is the aforementioned track—Mantis Religiosa—that I composed for Setken’s film. Again, listeners can view The Praying Mantis God of Ancient Egypt at https://vimeo.com/setken, and if you enjoy this little tune I’ve cooked up as an offering to Lord Abyt, you can stream and download Mantis Religiosa for free at gbmarian.bandcamp.com.
Shameless self-promotion for my new album, Summer’s End (2020), a musical anthology of Halloween happenings.
It’s October 1, 2020, and the Season of the Witch is nigh! The Festival of Samhain, otherwise known as the Feast of All Hallows, is my very favorite holiday. The following clip from Episode #32 of this series (Holy Days of the LV-426 Tradition) explains why:
Halloween isn’t “just for kids,” and it wasn’t invented by the candy companies either. It originates from a blend of Celtic folk religion and Roman Catholicism. It is just the first of three holy days—All Hallows’ Eve (October 31), All Saints’ Day (November 1), and All Souls’ Day (November 2)—which are collectively known as Hallowtide.
Even before the Catholic Church reached Great Britain and Ireland, these three dates were already an ancient festival called Samhain (“SOW-wynn”) in Gaelic and Nos Galan Gaeaf (“knows GAIL-uhn GUY-ov”) in Welsh. It marked the end of the harvest season and the start of winter, which was an extremely frightening time for the Celts. Many of them would die of starvation, disease, or freezing temperatures before the following summer. For this reason, the first night of winter weighed heavily upon their minds, and people thought the barriers between this world and the next were temporarily lifted, allowing the dead and other paranormal beings to roam free. This wasn’t so bad when it came to ghosts, who were viewed as beloved ancestors to be welcomed. Malevolent faeries and qliphothic entities were the real concern, and people dressed in frightening animal skins, carved protective charms from turnips, and left out offerings of food to keep such things away. It’s from these ancient traditions that wearing costumes, carving jack o’lanterns, and trick-or-treating are all descended.
Halloween was always my favorite holiday growing up, more important than the winter holidays, and it’s the first thing in which I ever took a religious interest, even before Set. I enjoy handing out candy to trick-or-treaters on October 31st; but once the boils and ghouls have all gone home, I begin my all-night vigil for the dead. I light some candles for our ancestor shrine in the kitchen, and I say some words to our dearly departed. I keep the candles burning all night long, not going to bed until 5:30 in the morning or so. Then I repeat this process the following two nights.
Spooky things do tend to happen during these vigils, like voices or footsteps that come from nowhere (especially around 3:00 am). But nothing scary or sinister ever happens, perhaps due to our ancestors’ protection. Call it “superstition” if you like, but we take this stuff pretty seriously. I think it’s important to keep the true spirit of Halloween alive as much as we can.
And to that end, I would like very much to present my new album, Summer’s End, in honor of this most sacred occasion. 2020 has been a terrible year for so many people, too many lives have been lost or ruined, and there probably won’t be a lot of trick-or-treating or bobbing for apples this year. Plus, many of us are afraid of what next month will bring, and I can offer little comfort when it comes to that. BUT, one thing I CAN do is give the world a special holiday present that will hopefully bring others some much-needed joy. If nothing else, play this music on Halloween night with no lights on apart from some jack-o’lanterns! Perhaps something magical might happen…
On the conflation of all Setian spirituality with what Western occultists call “the left-hand path,” and why this is problematic.
Setianism is often linked with something Western occultists call “the left-hand path,” and this is thanks largely to the Temple of Set. The term originates from Hindu and Buddhist Tantra, in which the Vama Marga or “left-handed way” to enlightenment involves practices that most orthodox believers find “repugnant” (e.g., erotic mysticism). Helena Blavatsky, the founder of Theosophy, appropriated the name for virtually any kind of Western occultism she didn’t like. Ever since then, it has been evocative of “black magic” and “devil worship.”
Most other occult writers followed Blavatsky’s example in this respect, including Aleister Crowley, the founder of Thelema (who was himself regarded as a “brother of the left-hand path” by many of his contemporaries due to his controversial views and practices). The first Western writer to actually adopt the left-hand path (or “LHP” for short) as a positive self-label was Kenneth Grant, a protege of Crowley’s who developed his own “Typhonian” school of Thelema. Grant’s philosophy hinges on Set rather than Horus, and it has much to do with contacting qliphothic forces from alternate universes via the use of sexual magic. Grant was also a UFOlogist and a pioneer in Lovecraftian occultism, or the use of H.P. Lovecraft’s “Cthulhu Mythos” in actual esoteric practice. His use of the term “left-hand path” is probably the closest I have seen among Western sources to the original Tantric idea of the Vama Marga (perhaps because Grant studied under an actual Indian guru, Ramana Maharshi).
The next Western writer to adopt the left-hand path was Anton LaVey, founder of the Church of Satan. LaVey conceptualized the LHP as being like a carnival huckster’s take on spirituality: it’s all “make-believe,” we are just meat machines that cease to exist upon death, and there are no actual gods or spirits to hear any of our prayers. But at the same time, there is nothing wrong with all of this “make-believe” so long as it enriches and empowers the “believer.” In LaVey’s worldview, conventional religions (“the right-hand path”) use made-up dogmas to control the masses, while the left-hand path uses such fantasy to liberate the individual instead. Success is measured not by any spiritual advancement, but by purely material milestones. For example, a successful actor or musician would be considered far more adept at “the black arts” than someone who can recite each of the Enochian Keys by heart, but who flips burgers at McDonald’s for a living.
Michael Aquino, the founder of the Temple of Set, developed a radically different construct from that of LaVey. His LHP is a more metaphysical process of “immortalizing the psyche,” with the potential achievement of a sentient afterlife being the ultimate goal. For Aquino and his followers, the problem with conventional religion is that it stifles the powers of the mind, leading to a total dissolution of consciousness after death. If people just ditched such creeds and started exercising their minds intellectually and metaphysically, they’d have a much better chance of becoming discarnate alien intelligences when they die—or so the theory goes. If there is one element of LaVeyan belief that Aquino maintained, it is the claim that authentic LHPers do not actually “worship” any of the forces they evoke in their magic (including Set Himself). Aquino’s take centers on worshiping one’s own highest potential to the exclusion of anyone or anything else that might (or might not) exist.
Many additional Western LHP perspectives would bloom over the following decades, including those of Zeena and Nikolas Schreck, Michael W. Ford, and Thomas Karlsson. Notable themes that many sects seem to share include autotheism (the worship of oneself); an indiscriminate affinity for so-called “dark” forces (like conflating Set with Apep); an intersection of Gnosticism, hedonism, nihilism, and/or anti-cosmicism; and a rather unfortunate disposition toward right-wing sociopolitical ideologies (from American Libertarianism to outright National Socialism). The very worst example of this would be the Order of the Nine Angles, whose supporters are known to be terrorists and white supremacists. Even among LHPers who do not entertain such views seriously, there is an ugly tendency to glorify fascist imagery (often because it is “shocking” or “cool”), going all the way back to Anton LaVey’s inclusion of “Might is Right” (a racist diatribe by Ragnar Redbeard) in 1969’s The Satanic Bible.
Though many Setians identify as “left-hand path,” not all of us do. Part of the confusion on this stems from the fact that many Setian writers are either Temple of Set members or adherents to some variation of its philosophy. This has always been something of a “pet peeve” for me personally, because I think the word Setian really belongs to Set. It is understood that not all Setians will believe or practice the same way, as Set loves variety and freedom. But if any particular theme should be the one common element that we all share, that theme is and must be SET HIMSELF—not the Book of the Law, The Nightside of Eden, the Satanic Bible, or the Book of Coming Forth By Night. This does not preclude Setians from sharing additional interests; but Set was there long before Vama Marga, Typhonian Thelema, LaVeyan Satanism, the Temple of Set, or any other LHP variant, and a person doesn’t need EITHER of those things to know Set and walk with Him. To claim otherwise is to ignore the fact that Setianism began over five millennia ago as a North African animist and polytheist tradition in which our Namesake was clearly revered and venerated (as He deserves to be).
Which returns us to the matter of right-wing ideological influences in Western LHP circles. This rather disgusting tendency is made all the more revolting whenever it happens to manifest among so-called “Setians.” For one thing, Set is an Egyptian god, and the Egyptians were a North African people. They were PEOPLE OF COLOR, you idiots. We owe everything to them, too; there is not a single white person who would be walking with any of the Netjeru today if it hadn’t been for these blessed ancestors. So if you pay lip service to an Egyptian god while supporting white supremacy, you are a fucking idiot and you deserve to have your ass handed to you. Furthermore, Set is the absolute WORST mascot for any kind of fascist cause, given that His hatred for authoritarianism is purer than venom. We call Him “He Who Commands the Riot” for a reason, you know. Set is a god who smites other gods whenever they need smiting, and He has even less patience with human megalomaniacs. If you take His name but support tyranny, you are no Setian; you are just a servant of Apep in disguise—and we Setians know just how to deal with Apep!
I’m willing to bet that most of Set’s people today are probably Kemetics or some other flavor of devotional polytheist—or at least, that is how it looks across the internet (which is probably a better reflection of things today than it was in the 1990s). We devotionalists have just as much right to Set’s name as any Thelemite, Satanist, or Chaos Magician (if not more), and I for one insist on taking ownership of the term Setian for this reason. LHPers are welcome to walk with Set too in my book, but they are NOT welcome to look down their noses at those of us who actually revere and venerate Him as the ancients did. And those who favor any of that “might is right” fuckery should just pack their shit and leave. It seems egregiously stupid that I should even have to say this to anyone, but y’all are just gonna have to live with the fact that there are Setians who worship and pray to Set, who are animists and polytheists, and who believe in trying to make things better for everyone, not just ourselves.
“White evangelicals must bear their share of responsibility for both racism and Christian nationalism, so I have no argument with these careful, well-researched critiques.
I do take issue with these legitimate criticisms becoming a license for others to marginalize, even demonize, white evangelical Christians. White evangelicals are routinely and unfairly stereotyped, lumped together in the basket of deplorables with the neo-Nazi marchers in Charlottesville and other supremacists. Some may think it’s not possible to be bigoted against a group that is so closely associated with the historical trajectory of power in America. I disagree.”
No one should ever be marginalized or demonized just for being who they are, but there is a huge difference between this and calling people out for their behavior when it is demonstrably unethical (to say the very least). It is understood that not every evangelical Christian is an asshole who wants to legislate other people’s lives and deprive them of their inalienable rights; but this is the exception, not the rule. And since the entire evangelical community decided to support Trump in his rise to power, they have little room to complain about being “lumped together” with the rest of his supporters. Whether you support Trump because you’re a Christian or a Nazi, it makes no difference, the end result is exactly the same, and it has proven extremely harmful to everyone who ISN’T an evangelical or a white supremacist.
Furthermore, hearing evangelicals whine and cry about being “unfairly stereotyped” is just fucking hilarious. These are the exact same people who distribute literature claiming that Pagans and witches want to sacrifice babies, or that Planned Parenthood is run by genocidal murderers, or that the entire LGBTQ community is possessed by Satan. Do you really want to go down this path? Because if we’re keeping score on “unfair stereotypes” here, evangelicals continue to perpetuate FAR more than their fair share.
“White evangelicals are certainly complicit in our country’s history of systemic racism and overt nationalism, but I offer three reasons why transparent prejudice against them offers no way forward. First, this prejudice reduces a large, complex group to their political activities; the philosophical term is “essentialism.” In a mass culture dominated by Amazon, Netflix, Google, Harvard and MIT, evangelical ideas barely register, other than as stock villains and straw men. But in politics they loom larger, so the mainstream culture defines them entirely by their political activities and seek to “cancel” them.”
Check your privilege, dude. There are areas of this country where evangelicals hold all the cards when it comes to the law. I know because I lived in such an area for 10 years, and it was absolute hell. If evangelical Christians do not want to be “reduced” to their political activities, they should become less political and stop trying to impose their morality on all the rest of us. If you don’t believe in abortions, don’t get one; but don’t make it impossible for anyone else to get one. You people have no business trying to legislate other people’s lives, and so long as you refuse to stop attacking our freedoms, you will continue to face severe criticism and pushback. (You lie in the bed you make!)
It is also ironic that this writer complains of evangelicals being “reduced” to just their politics when this is exactly what EVANGELICALS do to all the rest of us. For example, evangelicals generally do not characterize LGBTQ people as human beings with valid concerns and perspectives; they dismiss them as some kind of “unholy conspiracy” that’s out to destroy civilization as we know it. And when those of us who love our LGBTQ family and friends try to correct religious right-wingers on this matter, we are usually dismissed for “becoming political.” I’m sorry, but fighting for my transgender nephew’s right to self-identify as he pleases, or for my best friend’s right to marry the woman she loves, or for my wife’s right to determine what she does with her own body is not a matter of “politics.” It is a simple matter of human decency, being a good person, and protecting the people I love. When evangelicals use such dehumanizing language against us, they signal to us that they do not even acknowledge us as people.
Additionally, evangelical Christians have no concept whatsoever of what it feels like to be “canceled.” Having people disagree with you and oppose your political platforms does not count as “canceling.” The only way you can be “canceled” is if you are never permitted to speak or share your opinion with anyone at all – and that is simply not the case for evangelicals, at least not here in America. When you have entire publishing companies, AM radio stations, and 24-hour TV networks to support your cause, you are not hurting for representation whatsoever. So stop trying to play the victim here, you aren’t fooling anyone dude.
“Second, many evangelicals, far from seeking out division, are the salt of the earth. They donate time and energy to their churches, but also to strangers, including strangers in other countries, where they are well known for fighting sex trafficking and providing clean water. They are conscientious parents, church members and Little League coaches. They are honest businesspeople. If racism is systemic, well, they are not the elites who own the systems. They don’t see themselves as racist because, to them, racism is a matter of personal attitude. They don’t see themselves as nationalists either, or if they do, their definition is more akin to what the rest of us call patriotism.”
Oh yes, evangelical missionaries are SO fucking noble. That is precisely why they continue to endanger indigenous cultures despite the COVID-19 pandemic (and all for the sake of winning more converts, i.e. political allies). And while the missionaries do fight sex-trafficking and provide clean water and other good works like that, they also do everything they can to DECULTURALIZE the people they help, insisting that their ancestral religious traditions are “satanic” and they must accept “the White Man’s God” in order to become truly “civilized.” Next thing you know, the new converts start hanging or burning accused “witches” in their communities (including little children!) because “God told them to,” and white evangelicals continue to shirk any responsibility for this whatsoever. Do you really expect anyone to believe you aren’t racist when you engage in such blatant modern colonialism?
“Lastly, marginalizing and demonizing this group is politically untenable. White evangelical Christians make up about 25% of the U.S. population, around 85 million people. When this election is over, they will still be here. And they will still be deeply intertwined in American life. These folks are our fellow-citizens, part of our country’s lifeblood. We need to be building bridges toward evangelicals of goodwill, not burning them.”
Can you point us to a substantial example of when evangelicals ever tried building bridges of goodwill toward Pagans, LGBTQ people, or feminists en masse? You have completely misplaced the responsibility for “making amends,” here. That burden rests squarely on the shoulders of evangelicals, not on anyone else’s. We do not owe evangelicals any apologies or reparations; THEY owe US the apologies and reparations, instead. But I am not going to hold my breath waiting for THAT to ever happen, given your community’s record for “doing the right thing.”
“But America cannot be rebuilt without white evangelical Christians. Excoriating them for the sake of Twitter likes only moves us in the wrong direction. Look for common ground. Acknowledge others’ attempts to eradicate personal prejudice even as you seek to educate yourself and others about systemic discrimination. Look for the fine line between the nationalism you fear and the patriotism you value. Take note of the positive contributions made by others, even when they believe, and vote, differently than you.”
This fellow seems absolutely determined to believe that no one could ever have a good reason for ripping on evangelical Christians. When an entire religious community seeks to deprive you of your autonomy and your freedom, we have little choice but to regard that community as an enemy. If evangelical Christians would like this situation to change, the responsibility is on THEM to BE BETTER. They can have their beliefs and live their lives the way they want to without interfering with any of the rest of us; but they consistently choose not to, and THAT is why we are angry. Gaslighting us with your empty-hearted appeals for “understanding” and “acceptance” is nothing more than a diversion. This is not a “both sides” issue, this is an issue of one side CLEARLY BEING WRONG and the other being consistently victimized.
Three brief sermons in which I discuss Set’s affinity for the color red, why Setianism is substantially different from many other religions, and how the Red Lord saves us all every night.
Red isn’t just a color; it’s a part of Set Himself. Or to put it another way, the Red Lord doesn’t just “like” the color red; He is the very essence of redness.
Within the spectrum of visible light, red exists between orange (where red meets yellow) and violet (where red meets blue). Technically, its wavelength is approximately 620–740 nanometers on the electromagnetic spectrum. It has historically been associated with aggression, blood, heat, lust, and passion. It’s also linked to the planet Mars and the sphere of Geburah on the Qabalic Tree of Life. Mars, of course, is named after the Roman God of war, who is often conflated with the Greek God Ares. (Hence why Mars is so often associated with hostile alien space invaders, as in H. G. Wells’ The War of the Worlds.) Geburah is where the gods pass judgment and destroy things, causing us all to be transformed (whether we want to be or not). It’s also the sphere where the gods take whatever steps they need to beat the crap out of evil.
Red is further linked to iron, which is likely because (1) there is actually iron in our blood and (2) Late Stone Age people often used ochre, a clay that is given a reddish tint by iron oxide. Even today, tribal peoples still use ochre to treat animal skins, repel insects, stop bleeding, and protect themselves from the sun. Red also continues to be the preferred color for warnings and danger signs (both in human society and in nature), with the highest threat levels being “red alerts.”
The Egyptians associated Set with red because He is a storm deity. While most Thunder Gods are linked with fertility and kingship due to the part storms usually play in fertilizing crops, storms almost never occur in the Nile Valley. The crops there are sufficiently irrigated by the Nile itself when it floods each year; so even when storms do happen, they tend to have disastrous consequences. They more often occur in the deserts on either side of the Nile Valley, the sands of which are colored red (making Set “the Lord of the Red Lands”). Red-haired animals and people were likewise linked with Set as well, and by the time He was completely demonized during the Late Period, it wasn’t uncommon for such animals and people to be killed as a way of execrating Him. Redheads continued to be demonized by European Christians, who thought such people were especially prone to “worshiping the devil” and becoming “witches.” This construct came from the Egyptians, who considered Set to be the original “red-headed stepchild.”
In many Typhonian spells from the Greek magical papyri, the directions call for magic words to be written in donkey’s blood (which is often described as “Typhon’s blood”). In the LV-426 Tradition, we think that harming any of Set’s sacred critters will definitely draw His attention to you, but not in a way that any sane or rational person would want. I do, however, think that the more red things you can include in your rituals, the better. I prefer to light red candles for the Big Guy, myself.
What does it mean to be “religious”? The answer to this question is much more nuanced and evasive today than it was hundreds of years ago.
When I use this descriptor in relation to myself, it often catches people off guard because I just “don’t seem like the religious type.” I don’t attend any kind of church, take any scriptures literally, try to convert people, or seek to legislate other people’s lives. I also cuss like a sailor and tend to be hypercritical of organized religion in general (to the point of supporting the strict taxation of all churches).
Some people dismiss my religiosity for just these reasons, because their definition of “religion” is limited to the conservative Christian model. And since my religion does not fit within those specific parameters, people always want to tell me I am “spiritual, not religious” at best.
Excuse me, but let’s make something perfectly clear: I am a SETIAN, and SET is my god. I do what I do out of profound reverence and devotion to HIM. The only theological expectations I care to meet are HIS; the standards of other faiths DO NOT APPLY.
Furthermore, Set is not some bullshit authoritarian shepherd god; He has nothing to do with giving commandments, judging humanity for its sins, or bullying anyone with the threat of a miserable afterlife. Set is a cosmic individualist in the truest possible sense of the term; He demands not only freedom for Himself, but for EVERY sentient individual to be the unique and different creature they really are. And even in 3200 BCE, this included everyone from foreigners and immigrants to LGBTQ people to nomadic desert peoples to others who just “didn’t fit in” for whatever reason (especially if they were redheads).
Set is a god who approves of having drag queens read books to children at public libraries, for instance, while contemporary Christians still quarrel over whether Jehovah even accepts such lovely people as human beings. So do not presume to judge MY religiosity according to YOUR (highly questionable) standards. As far as Setians like me are concerned, your own religious priorities are absolutely fucked!
As for the “spiritual but not religious” crowd, I fully support everyone’s right to self-identify as they please. I reject this label myself, for it simply doesn’t do me justice. Walking with Set is not a “hobby” or a “game,” it’s a motherfuckin’ QUEST that takes your entire life, and which continues long after you die! I will not belittle myself, my god, or the magic we work together by referring to it as anything else BUT religious. And those who want to bash all religion in general because “it’s all the same” can kindly kiss my ass.
“Have I been saved? Yes; in fact, my god saves me every day. He saves you every day, too, even though you don’t believe. The fact that the world is still here when we wake up each morning—that we don’t all just blink right out of existence while we’re asleep—is a direct result of His operations out there, on the Frontier of Creation. He’s out there right now, fighting for all of us. He doesn’t care if you’re strong or weak, noble or corrupt, pious or irreligious. Nor does He care that most people vilify Him, if they acknowledge Him at all. Whether He is cursed as a devil or dismissed as a fairy tale, it makes no difference to Him. It’s neither His job nor His concern to judge the world. Even if no one ever rooted for Him at all, my god would still be out there, saving the whole of Creation each night!
“Don’t get me wrong; He does notice those mortals who call out to Him in praise. Given that there are so few of us, it would be hard for Him not to! And though He has His own battles to fight, He shares His strength and His steel with us. When we have tribulations that are too much for us to bear alone, we can ask Him for strength and clarity of vision. We can use our words of power to actually become Him in human flesh, and nothing—not even the Chaos Serpent itself—can stand against us when we do! When we perform this Great Work, we are saving our own little parts of the world. With our Holy Father, salvation becomes a team effort; our victories are His, and His victories are ours!
“That is why Set, alone of all the gods, has my undying loyalty. That is why the subjective realities of other faiths can just never compare to mine. There are no threats, no guilt trips, and no extortions here. It all comes down to just one thing, baby: making sure there’s always tomorrow!”