Magister Svengali

I was born in Battle Creek Michigan, 1965, live in Daytona Beach Florida but have also spent time in Charleston South Carolina and New Orleans Louisiana. My ancestry is documented to the 14th century Netherlands. My earliest ancestor in America, Jan Otten Van Tuyl (1636-1692) was a Dutch fugitive from justice, sentenced in absentia to be executed by sword for killing another man with a knife in a tavern brawl in 1662. His son, Otto Van Tuyl (1661-1705) had been "captured and imprisoned in 1699 as one of Capt. William Kidd's men, but released without bail, to the alarm of the honest merchants and skippers." (N. Y. Col. Docs., IV., 551,623). He turns up again as the commander of a privateer, that was run aground in a storm, in which he and his crew were frozen to death or drowned in 1705. Once in America, my Dutch, Prussian, and English ancestors were pirates, privateers, farmers, mariners, and slave owners. My family fought in the Revolutionary War, Civil War (Virginia Confederate), WWI, WWII, Korea, and Vietnam. I spent most of my childhood on 100 acres of woods that belonged to my grandfather, until I had to go to school. This is when I first realized how much I hate people.
When I was a child, I spent hours reading my mothers copy of Rossell Hope Robins Encyclopedia of Witchcraft and Demonology, looking at the old woodblock cuts and engravings of Levi's Baphomet, demons from Collin de Plancy's Dictionnaire Infernal, illustrations of witches having sexual commerce with the devil, and graphic block cuts illustrating the torture methods of the inquisition. The book was lost in the move to Florida. The search for another copy led me to an old NY-style bookstore in what was then the scummiest part of town. I ended up spending many years there, learning the business of dealing in antiquarian books, cataloging countless rare books on all subjects for the now-defunct Antiquarian Bookman Weekly. Starting around 1985, I ran my own mail order business selling rare books, mostly to finance my personal library and research.
Affiliated with the Church of Satan in 1992. Appointed to the Priesthood of the Church of Satan by Dr. Anton Szandor LaVey in 1996. Appointed to the degree of Magister in the Church of Satan by High Priest Peter H. Gilmore in 2005.
I corresponded with Charles Manson for several years, an unexpected result was the number of “family” people on the outside contacting me at Charlie’s behest, including Sandy Good. Occasionally I would photocopy clusters of photos and artwork on the back of letters. One included a couple photos of myself, after that Charlie started addressing me as “Manson II.” There are assholes out there who would try to make a career out of having that in writing. Some early Manson correspondence was forwarded to me by Michael Moynahan who I had never heard of at that time. I share many of Manson's views, especially regarding ecology and celebrities.
From 1992-98, I was proprietor of “The Devil’s Bookshelf”, dealing in rare Occult, True Crime, Erotica, and Horror books, Human Skulls & Skeletons, and other unusual osteological specimens. I’m allegedly in a book from the UK entitled “Merchants of Death” or “Dealers of Death” about the underground world of dealing in human remains. I gave the woman a long interview with photos but have never found a copy of the book. Other people claim to have seen it, but I’ve never seen one come up for sale so it may be a myth. So if you find a copy, I want it.
Various other business interests, projects, “hobbies,” and bizarre coincidences have resulted in prolonged interaction and occasional friendships with a wide variety of people, some famous, some not, some notorious, most completely unknown but more interesting and unbelievable than anything you will read about or see; writers, artists, photographers, psycho killers, secret millionaires, old spies, assassins, gangsters, philosophers, scientists, politicians, diplomats, old Nazis (real ones), neo-Nazis, businessmen, bums, radicals, political extremists, and raving lunatics. Mostly I prefer to keep to myself.
I live in a 100 year old Victorian house with my books and artifacts, where I read, write, make experimental electronic noise and sleazy sex and violence laden videos with stock footage on cheap computer programs and pretend like I’m a film maker.
I read voraciously, on average a book a day, and have a private library of about 15,000 books; mostly history, philosophy, political science, esoterica, art, photography, film books, and other subjects. Very little fiction. People who don't routinely read good books, or who aren't interested in anything enough to read extensively, usually aren't worth shit.
From an insular vantage point I watch civilization sink in the rising tide of subhuman scum. Anyone who crosses my line in the sand will not know what hit them.