Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
I’ve written about my thoughts on fascism and Thelema in the past. It should be no shock to anyone that I fall squarely against any form of authoritarianism in our communities at all.
A New Manifesto
No one is neutral in a burning house.
The myth of neutrality, that cherished idol of moderates and cowards, has long outlived its usefulness. In the face of organized cruelty, it is not virtue to remain undecided. The fascist is not some abstract villain of history books or costume dramas; he is your neighbor who learned to sneer before he learned to speak, your pastor who traded God for grievance, your friend who shares “just asking questions” posts that reek of blood. Fascism does not arrive in jackboots—it arrives with jokes, with policies, with plausible deniability.
This is your formal invitation to wake up.
We live in a time where fascism wears a smile and sells you insurance. It waves flags, kisses babies, and paints itself as the underdog while holding every tool of power behind its back. It tells you that your discomfort with cruelty is weakness, that your desire for peace is naïve, and that the only virtue left is strength, which it defines as domination.
To that: we say no.
We say no to systems that teach submission to hierarchy as though it were divine order. We say no to cultures of purity obsessed with bloodlines, borders, and the policing of bodies. We say no to the manufactured nostalgia for an imaginary past where everyone knew their place—because that place was a cage for most and a noose for the rest.
And we do not say no politely.
We do not seek dialogue with fascism. We do not attempt to reason with the unreasonable. We are not interested in “both sides.”
We draw a line.
We believe in fire. In the cleansing, transfiguring force of a world remade—not by policy alone but by the refusal to kneel. We believe that every human being bears not merely the image of the divine but is the divine-in-motion, and that divinity is desecrated whenever fascism goes unchallenged.
We do not protect the feelings of tyrants. We do not mourn the dignity of ideologies whose only fruit is death.
We believe in resistance that stings.
“Swift as a trodden serpent turn and strike! Be thou yet deadlier than he!” [AL 3.42o–p]
Not just protest signs and slogans, but a lived resistance. A refusal to obey unjust orders, to laugh at cruel jokes, to stay silent when silence is complicity. We believe in books that are banned and burned because they threaten the tyrant’s sleep. We believe in queer joy, Black rage, immigrant tenacity, working-class solidarity, and the sacred right to say: you may not speak for us, and you may not suppress people in our name.
We are not utopians. We are not deluded. We have simply chosen the harder path—the one that costs more and comforts less. The one that refuses the easy poison of superiority and instead insists on love, real love: love that bleeds, love that defends, love that burns down temples if the gods inside demand sacrifices of the innocent.
You may call us radicals. You may call us traitors. You may say we are divisive, impolite, dangerous. Fine.
So long as we are not called obedient.
We do not consent to authoritarianism.
We will not comply.
We will not forget.
We will not go quietly.
And if the world must burn, then let it be the fire that sets free the slaves to the system.
Love is the law, love under will.