Inside the Underbelly
The thought of transgressing against the current forms and structures, the “powers that be” is an alluring concept, to say the least. I have attempted the Presencing of the Dark, particularly that of the Sinister Feminine through the performance of real-world deeds and solo rites.
Since I was considered as someone who had a “problem with authority,” I decided to undertake the Insight Role of Police Officer in my hometown of New York City back in 2005. I had little difficulty applying since I only had one offense as a juvenile (12 y/o) for graffiti. I met many in the Police Academy whom to this day, I consider to be friends, even if I was only “on the job” for “selfish” reasons.
The Police Academy was what I consider to be semi-rigid. There were strict haircut and uniform policies and academic requirements that I felt wasn’t overly difficult, maybe penal law material that would be considered dry and boring. The physical fitness requirements were feasible, which was designed to increase in difficulty as time progressed.
My first assignment was the 108th Precinct in Long Island City, Queens. Like many “houses,” it had its good people to work with and not-so-good. The good ones were the ones who didn’t rat you out to the supervisor for even the smallest discrepancy and whom you could count on to watch your back.
For my first three months of service, I was assigned to a foot post (“foot patrol”) on the streets of Long Island City, Woodside and Sunnyside. If there were any major jobs, a sector (patrol car) would pick me up for the run (assignment).
I found out that over a period of time, cops would look at other people who weren’t cops as almost a different species. Non-cops that were encountered during a tour (shift) would be treated with indifference because these were people that were not empathetic with you, they just couldn’t relate. People that we knew were perps (perpetrators of crimes) were referred to as “skels.” To this day, I have no knowledge as to the origin of that word.
The job also wreaked havoc on a good percentage of marriages because cops only confided with other cops and found themselves being more and more distant from their spouses and significant others.
My fiancee’ also had no knowledge of my personal philosophies and we grew even more distant because of my line of work. I could not bring myself to share the grisly details of the whole family killed in a car accident or the DOA’s (dead on arrival) discovered in dwellings or the various arrests.
I was tempted to renounce my quest and my role due to my deteriorating relationship with her. I then thought of how this society possessed a plebian quality, a society that lacked true Satanic excellence or honor. I aspired to do my part to contribute to the heresy against the mundane.
One night about a year and a half ago, we busted these three teenage boys for vandalizing a church. These profane “Satanists” spray-painted pentagrams and even went so far as to quote John Milton’s “Paradise Lost.” All the cops at the “house” were talking about how this society was fucked up because it produced these anti-Nazarene “Satanists” and how they would sacrifice babies next. I commented on how I didn’t think real Satanists did that and that these kids were just misguided, rebellious and going through that common teen angst melodrama. I probably said that in those exact words because everybody, cops and perps within earshot alike froze and shot me this look as if I had taken a shit on the floor. I smiled as if I was just kidding and everyone just waved it off.
Many cops become cops because they think that it is a “noble” or “honorable” profession (according to the Magian principles, of course) and that they are contributing to society as a whole by enforcing its laws. Of course, there are the few that are referred to as “buffs,” the ones who only see themselves as cops and are unaware of their own nature, who are too ignorant to see that they are just being used Then they become disenchanted and “burned out” from the job’s rigors and the thanklessness. Most of us went to work just trying to get through the tour safely and immersing ourselves in the camraderie, the seemingly impregnable “Blue Wall.” Just trying not to end up as ashes sitting on the mantle of a rent-controlled apartment.
As of last week, I turned in my shield and gun to the precinct commander after four years of being “on the job.” Surprisingly, it hurt but I felt myself becoming almost too immersed in the job and almost impeding my true intention. This I write with a heavy heart.
-Order of Nine Angles-