On Wednesday, the sixth of June, the incomparable Ray Bradbury died at the age of 91.
Something Wicked This Way Comes, his haunting novel about a sinister traveling carnival, is included in the recommended fiction reading list of Blanche Barton’s book The Church of Satan. As diabolically evocative as that book is, though, it was not Bradbury’s greatest contribution to my Satanic education.
My personal favorite Bradbury work is Zen in the Art of Writing, which overflows with passionate wisdom for embracing the genuinely awesome experience of a profoundly creative life. Aside from The Satanic Bible, this has probably been the most influential book in my own evolution. Nietzsche ranks high on that list, too. But Bradbury captured, distilled, and transmitted the Nietzschean lightning within the space of a single, concise, and indispensable manifesto.
It is fitting that Bradbury left us on a Wednesday. That day is named for the warrior-poet god Wotan, who embodies wisdom and the full spectrum of its power, and whose name means “frenzy.” My lifelong affinity for Wotan, also known as Odin, owes a great deal to the empowering, poetic frenzy of Ray Bradbury.
The unrelentingly vital spirit channeled through Ray Bradbury’s art ensures his immortality for as long as there are individuals receptive to his works—those brilliant sparks of his generous “demon muse.”
Something Wicked This Way Comes, his haunting novel about a sinister traveling carnival, is included in the recommended fiction reading list of Blanche Barton’s book The Church of Satan. As diabolically evocative as that book is, though, it was not Bradbury’s greatest contribution to my Satanic education.
My personal favorite Bradbury work is Zen in the Art of Writing, which overflows with passionate wisdom for embracing the genuinely awesome experience of a profoundly creative life. Aside from The Satanic Bible, this has probably been the most influential book in my own evolution. Nietzsche ranks high on that list, too. But Bradbury captured, distilled, and transmitted the Nietzschean lightning within the space of a single, concise, and indispensable manifesto.
It is fitting that Bradbury left us on a Wednesday. That day is named for the warrior-poet god Wotan, who embodies wisdom and the full spectrum of its power, and whose name means “frenzy.” My lifelong affinity for Wotan, also known as Odin, owes a great deal to the empowering, poetic frenzy of Ray Bradbury.
The unrelentingly vital spirit channeled through Ray Bradbury’s art ensures his immortality for as long as there are individuals receptive to his works—those brilliant sparks of his generous “demon muse.”