文档介绍：The Secret Life of a Satanist
By Blanche Barton
Introduction
What Manner of Man is This?
One couldn't dream of a more diabolical-looking man. With his head shaven in the tradition of carnival strong men, and a
black, Mephistophelean beard tracing up thinly around his lips, Anton LaVey's appearance is decidedly barbaric. His amber
eyes look more leonine than human. The small gold ring in his left ear conjures childhood images of gypsies and pirates.
Many would see him as their nightmarish vision of the Devil himself.
My impression of Anton LaVey matured slowly, over a period of some 10 years before I ever met him. My father (a dyed-
in-the-wool Satanist if ever there was one, though he emphatically denies any theistic label) raised me on generous portions
of Kipling and London, with enough Robert Louis Stevenson thrown in to instill me with an early fascination with the hidden
and the fantastic. By the age of 13, I was already a jaded occult connoisseur. I pored over all available magical texts ancient
and modern, from Albertus Magnus to Diary of a Witch, and could feel only disdain at their id meanderings.
It's not surprising then that for a long time I resisted reading The Satanic Bible, saving myself from certain frustration.
During my sexually and intellectually seething adolescence, I had my own ideas about Satan -- thoughts that surely no living
soul could understand but me. I was wrong. When I finally cracked open LaVey's now-infamous book, I felt a thrill of
satisfaction. There were others like me out there, and they called themselves Satanists.
I read Burton Wolfe's The Devil's Avenger to find out whether this strange, bald-headed man wasn't just posturing --
mouthing-off from a cloistered tower, play-acting his cynicism. But knowing more about LaVey only made me more curious
for answers to my questions.
The High Priest of the Church of Satan doesn't look much different than he did in 1967, when he burst in