I recently finished reading Magistra Barton's biography of Dr. LaVey, and I was filled with a profound sense of sorrow. I don't want to come off as sounding like and idiot, but somehow I feel that telling this to other people who may have known Dr. LaVey and interacted with him in life will understand how I feel.
I am deeply saddened that I will never have the chance to just
talk to him, to sit down and pick his brain. He may never have even wanted to speak to me, but the fact is I'll never know. I'll never get to see him in person, or listen to him play his keyboards. The fact that I'll never see the infamous Black House, or the good Doctor perform a ritual, it's just, sad. He is the one person I admire the most, because he is the only person to ever reach me like he did, through his works, through his words. I owe him a debt of gratitude, one that I'll never be able to repay. I can never take him to the symphony to hear Wagner's "Ring" cycle, nor can I flash grill him a rare steak and sit around afterwords talking with him about politics and music.
I envy all of you fortunate enough to have known this man in real life, and to have spent time with him before his death. I sincerely hope that all who were this fortunate do not take for granted the time that you spent with him, and the things you learned from him. Those are experiences that I can never have, but I am far richer because of the legacy he left behind.
I raise my glass, then, to the great Doktor.....for he has fulfilled his dream, and as long as I and my line survive, he will never be forgotten.
Hail Anton Szandor LaVey!
Hail Satan!
