Satanic Temple Of Doom

 The Satanic Temple Of Doom

October 31, 2017

The Satanic Temple moved its headquarters to a town historically known for setting fire to people who were believed to worship the devil. My close friend, B, assured me that this was an affront to the Lord and must have something to do with the conspiracy puppet masters. I agreed that it would at the very least make an interesting story, so we decided to infiltrate their headquarters in the name of God (or at least in the name of sarcastic naysayers).

Requests to speak with someone of importance were ignored. We tried the proper channels and even sent an emailto media@thesatanictemple.com in hopes of getting a dialog started. No bother we thought, we would just get a story on our own terms. 

Texting back and forth the details of our adventure we locked in our plan. We would drive to the house of the devil and save the world; or at least save it from this one thing, it’d be on its own with the billion other awaiting disasters.

Friday afternoon I was leaving work, excited to see the confirmation text about the trip. So far so good, nothing was going to get in our way; not even our wives. The day was hazy and I drove past a smashed raccoon in the middle of the road, its detached tail twitching looking as if it were wagging. Possibly a trick of the wind or of my tired mind; it was a long week. As I came to a stop at a red light a big, white bird swooped out of a tree and passed my car. “Holy shit, a fucking owl”, in broad daylight. The language of the universe is nearly screaming at me. I wonder what it wants. 

The plan was to leave at 9am Saturday morning, we left at roughly 9:45, not too bad. We picked the perfect day to drive over an hour out of our way. It was rainy and the roads were all congested. Before we even got on the highway we stopped at Dunkin Donuts for two black coffees, mine iced his hot. 

I put on Marilyn Manson’s Portrait of an American Family to psyche us up (Manson was made a reverend in the Church of Satan in the 90’s).

A bit up 495 my gaslight blinked on and we pulled off for fuel and snacks; we were ill prepared for this trip. We pulled off 495 and had to do a wide turn around a crocodile like cop waiting in the corner of the gas station. As I was pumping I noticed two donation boxes. I had a trash bag of clothes and a utensil caddy I’d been meaning to donate to Goodwill. As B was walking back to the car I told him to throw this shit in the bins. He threw the bag of clothes in one bin, then inspected both bins. One said clothes and shoes only; he of course chose this one for the giant square of plastic I should have tossed in a dumpster. No harm, no foul as the cop was literally looking the other way or just didn’t give a shit. Beggars can’t be choosers I always thought.

B joked that I’m not eating carbs because I chose beef jerky over Combos. Not five minutes after we’re back on the road I was regretting my purchase. The jerky smelled like farts and tasted like stale peppery death. I sealed the ziplock packaging and tossed it in the back as B munched away on his pretzels wrapped around whatever the fuck he picked.

We spoke of work, our children, the presidential election, and then conversation steered back to God and Satan. 

The Satanic Temple was founded in 2012 by Malcolm Jarry and Lucien Greaves (both aliases to protect their families) to combat the Bush Administration’s White House Office of Faith-Based and Neighborhood Partnerships. 

An attempt to drive a wedge into the so calledseparation of church and state. This is something I can agree with, our President swears in on a Holy Bible, not too separate. 

The Temple has also nobly stepped up to protestagainst the Westboro Baptist Church and regulations against abortion. 

They have an exemplary ten point guideline for an effective protest that can be found on their website. However, it seems they don’t always follow their own rules. Teabagging someone’s gravestone hardly seems like an appropriate way to get any point across. I will say though a group should not be judged by the actions of some.

Their mission essentially is equality and the seven tenets that they follow are a morally acceptable play on the commandments that heavily emphasize empathy.

 

A sign for Salem had me thinking we were making excellent time until I noticed the NH after it on the sign. Shit, had we GPSed the wrong Salem? Sometimes my gps bitch is an idiot, B had even quipped about how far technology had come and we were still following the same dumb, robotic woman’s voice. Cancel gps start again, quick. Me on the navigation and B on his phone. We were still on the right track, just spooked by a sign. 

About an hour later we arrived. It was still rainy, trafficky with no parking anywhere even in the garages; there was a food truck festival and the annual psychic convention, not to mention it was October in fucking Salem.

We kept driving until we reached what looked like the edge of the world. The road extended up to a bridge onto the next highway that abuts a seawall that was full of mist up to the cloud full dismal sky. I turned around before we had gone too far, then pulled into the 99, figuring we’d eat there because they had a lot we could actually park in.

B and I ordered the same exact thing; cheap burgers and the $2 Rolling Rock draft. While we were waiting for our food we started talking to the other patrons seated at the bar. The only person who was a local was a lone male who was way too interested in the college football game on the tv. He stated that he was not happy about the Satanictemple moving to town, but then was distracted as a player got his head stepped on. The replay played several times before we received our burgers. We turned to our bartender for her feeling on the matter at hand. She had no opinion on the “Salem Art House”, her beef was with the town itself, she “hates” Salem. “I only moved back here ‘cause my parents live here, I hate the traffic.”

​​In the bathroom I was impressed when I noticed a Koala Kare changing station. As a father this is unfortunately a rarity. Although this moment of glory was met with a slice of question as I saw the braille next to it. I applaud the effort of the handicap accommodators, but can you imagine having to paw around the walls of a bar bathroom to find the indicator letting you know there is an acceptable spot to change your child?

​​The drive back to the Satan house was funny as we saw drooping sunflowers wilting over a rusty fence, apparently the sun doesn’t shine on this part of town. Also, we saw a few signs for Hillary. I point this out because this was the first election where I had only noticed two opposing signs. A couple rednecks with Trump bumper stickers and we drove all the way to Salem to find a Hillary sign. I suppose in Massachusetts the democratic choice is assumed. 

​​The Salem Art Gallery is in an old house (that also used to be a morgue) and the entrance is through the gift shop. An ugly demon head knocker greeted us and we entered. The scent of spent incense and/or demonic spirits lingered in the warm room. A tiny, normal looking blonde welcomed us and asked if we were paying together or separately. Ambient Nine Inch Nails played in the background. I said separately and she had trouble swiping my card. I then noticed the slight gap in her earrings (the gateway to freakdom), the earlobe stretchers. Otherwise she was a normal looking, mousy acting girl, God forbid if this was whom I had to grill about Satan. She apologized and excused herself politely to get assistance. As she walked into another roomwe noticed her Hot Topic type tights. Who we assumed was her manager walked back in with her.A very polite, and also professionally dressed girl, with bright green hair, helped her charge me a $12 entrance fee. I noticed the puncture marks from her face piercings, a few nose and lip piercings. Strange that this was a place that would deem that sort of thing unprofessional. Mayhap she had other reasons for removing the jewelry. Then Mouse tried again for B’s card. That was when the most normal of the bunch walked in. A stereotypical white guy with a nondescript t-shirt and a short bowl cut pointed out that the blonde had the card upside down.

“You have the magic touch”, she said as B was charged his $12. We’re handed cards with Baphomet on the front for when we want to see the giant monstrosity they keep in a custom builtshed/barn.

​​The Baphomet statue was erected to sit near the Ten Commandments monument at the Oklahoma State Capitol. The monument was destroyed in 2014, so it now rests by the parking lot in Salem. 

​​The first room we entered after that was boring as hell, please pardon my horribly boring pun. It was mostly pictures taken at extreme angles of the statue we would see in person eventually. Some with lame captions such as, “Baphomet loves you”. Now my pun seems less boring. Score for me. The only interesting thing in that room was a bookcase not exactly on display. A display of framed pictures of the statue are set in front of it, I had to strain my neck to see the books, Control of Candy Jones and other similarly conspiracy themed selections. The funny thing about that was the hall we walked into next had Alex Jones on a screen bitching as normal and then the video went on about the ill effects of hypnosis drawn memories: the actual main topic of the book that had caught my eye. I was momentarily annoyed and dropped the J bomb. I giggled at the absurdity of saying Jesus Christ in vain in the Satanic temple. B missed me dropping the “Jbomb” and later asked if I had said Jew. Next we entered the main room.

​​Greeny meets us in there and I ask if the Temple is a religion and she tells me that it is more of a movement or organization. A podium stood empty in the corner and a rack of folding chairs lay in wait for lectures, debates, and movie nights full of buttery popcorn and sin. An Indian man awkwardly asked quietly what the star on the wall represents. Greenytold him it’s a pentagram and they get used everywhere here, she then pointed out the Christian baby Jesus counterpart in a cradle; a “chicken winged and anatomically correct” baby. Indian guy was very interested and leaned in to get a glimpse of the correct genitals. “Let’s get a look at that”, I joked.

“So this is baby Baphomet?”

“Yes, the anatomical, not the magnificent original version.”

B then asked about the breasts being removed from the statue, jumping ahead of himself. She stated that babies don’t have breasts anyway. I knew what he meant, found it funny and said, “duh dude.”

Also on the wall was a series of pictures depicting Blind Tom, this flanked by the American flag mostly whited out and the Confederate flag mostly blacked out. Duality is the message, I can bite that bait. Duality is the essential being of life. Good/evil, light/dark, positive/negative, love/hate. Each coin has a flip side. 

Then we stepped into the adjacent room, this is where the term art is stretched to its full tilt. The first “piece” I noticed was of a subject with his head buried in Satan’s ass. B quipped that to join you have to literally kiss the devil’s ass. A few less funny pieces are scattered around and the “magnificent” Baphomet is tacked to the wall. Its breasts in full perk and cock at full erection, said cock featuring its own vagina. Yes, a penis with a vagina…duality remember. I look up and saw a framed magazine cover of Anton Levay.

“Isn’t that Anton Levay?”

“Yes, we do show respect and homage our roots…the church believes in the supernatural, we do not.”

That was when I asked why Satan. If he’s just a literary figurehead then why?

She seemed prepared for this and told me that it was a fighting fire with fire approach. Satan is great for a shock an awe attack. The name of God’s most known opponent elicits an immediate response. 

Okay. Ready to see Baphomet?

We had come full circle to waiting in the gift shop looking around at the Hail Satan hoodies and other crap. I genuinely wanted to get a souvenir, but my cheapness wouldn’t allow me to forget the twelve bucks I wasted to walk around this dusty funeral parlor turned devils den.

“No shot glasses?”

“No, not yet.”

“Too bad, I’d have bought one of those”, I actually would have. Not a mug, fuck that. There was a clear donation box with what looked like six dollar bills. B later joked that I probably missed the two quarters, dime, nickel, and penny in there. They had a metal bust of Baphomet selling for $6,666. We were escorted by the normal looking guy whose name is a feminine star sign. Enthusiastically he unlocked the shed and encouraged us to take pictures and sit on the Devil’s lap. I pointed out his erection, waiting/baiting for him to point out that it is actually amedical staff unfortunately placed. He laughed and we took our pictures with our greatest nemesis. After the ill advised photo op I asked the why Satan question to Starchild. He seemed off put, but went into a spiel bringing up Paradise Lost (an epic poem which tells of Satan fighting God and fucking over mankind). So basically Satan is a head turner and nothing else. Attention is the idea. That is until I asked about his inherent evil. Defenses are drawn and the guy actually said God is more evil. How dare I insinuate that the Devil is a bad guy. He only killed 6 or 7 people in the bible, God committed genocide. 

“Yeah, God is pretty badass”, I proudly remarked.

First of all 6 or 7 people is a lot, that’s pretty evil, serial killer status so not really a great argument. Every single person dies so you can’t really blame God for choosing when to end a life. According to my extensive research (a quick Google) Satan actually killed 10. 

So, the whole organization is based off a fictional character, but how dare I call him a bad guy. I was only trying to point out the fact that Holden Caulfield would be a more suitable choice as a rebel.

 

Pretty disappointed with the anticlimactic journey I suggested we walk around a bit. The rain was holding up and it was still warm. Not many other people were as eager to explore the day as us, but we did get the chance to question a few passerbyers.

An older woman pushing two toddlers in a double wide stroller laughed at us as she let us know that while she was opposed to the devil she was not opposed to free speech and was actually in favor of the afterschool program initiative.

This initiative basically was another option for parents to place their children in. At the time the only other after school option was a pro Christian one.

​​We got a couple folks who wanted nothing to do with us, one muttered curses at us as he stumbled away in the direction of a bar.

​We spoke quickly with a gentleman our age whose response was “This is Salem.” Apparently, he doesn’t give one fuck about Satan taking up residence in his neighborhood. Another cynical man thought it was funny that they had chosen Salem, “It fits, and I’ll most likely check it out at some point. Not today though.”

 

So, my take: we have a bunch of atheists with good intentions that also crave attention. Isn’t it said somewhere that good intentions pave the way to Hell? Muah ha ha ha.

 

Next adventure: The Church of Scientology