At its core, the USA was built on blood magic—and whether people want to admit to it or not, it’s still practicing it today. And whether or not they consciously realize it, what’s truly being upheld is the ritualistic glorification of bloodshed, where the act of spilling blood is treated as a sacred transaction—a necessary cost for so-called freedom, power, or dominance. That’s why holidays, symbols, and even the national anthem are drenched in war language and blood-soaked pride, where this isn’t just about expressing love for a country or reaffirming a carefully curated national mythology. It’s something far more occult in nature, with an insidious and generational psychological devotion to human sacrifice that insists someone else must die to uphold a legacy of dominance. And that belief in blood magic doesn’t just live in the past—it still pulses beneath the surface of their country as the very heartbeat driving it today.

And you know what the wildest part of all this is? The very same people who exalt this performative reverence for the flag and the nation’s “sacrifices”—both the lives of its own citizens and the soldiers offered up within the empire, and the countless lives taken abroad to secure the empire’s dominion through death—are often the first to deny that there’s anything dark, sinister, or even remotely “satanic” about it. They’ll instead clutch their pearls at anything outside of their sanitized moral lens—where they’re the only arbiters of what’s considered good, holy, or acceptable—fooling themselves into believing that they stand for righteousness. Yet they can’t see how deeply steeped in death, domination, and blood rituals their beloved country’s origins—and its continued practices—actually are. And it’s like they don’t want to look at how imperial bloodshed is used as a blood rite masked as national virtue, how state-sanctioned violence is anointed with false holiness, and how history is rewritten to turn human slaughter into something that’s glorified, mythologized, and passed down as moral legacy.

Because if they did see it for what it is—beyond all their conditioning, national pride, and generational indoctrination—they would have to confront the unsettling truth that what they’ve been calling freedom is just patriotic spellcraft fueled by death, conquest, and psychic domination. And that what’s cloaked in state-orchestrated moral theater and fed by the souls of both the externally vanquished and the internally colonized is not righteousness, but a dark covenant of imperial sorcery. And that what they’ve been taught to worship is not authentic liberty—but a parasitic system that’s engineered to extract life force through human sacrifice—drawing energy from the psychic enslavement of its own citizens and from the bodies, lands, and spirits it plunders beyond its borders, where it sanctifies its conquest through myth, and masks its spiritual decay beneath symbols of honor.

This would mean they would have to face the reality that the very system they’ve pledged their loyalty to survives off the arcane machinery of empire—requiring the sacrificial energy of human suffering and the repetition of violence to sustain its façade of imperial righteousness. And that this is not upheld by anything truly righteous, sacred, or life-affirming—but by psychic bondage, intergenerational imperial spellcraft, and the unexamined inheritance of violence disguised as moral duty. And that the flag they raise is not a banner of freedom—but a sigil of manufactured detachment from the nation’s violent legacy and its ongoing systems of subjugation, powerlust, and the glorification, normalization, and ritualization of human sacrifice.

So, it’s very disturbing to witness seeing how deeply enchanted people are by the illusions the empire has cast over their minds—because they’ll call it honor, they’ll call it duty, and they’ll call it legacy. But what they won’t call it is what it actually is, which is a spiritual pact with death dressed up in stars and stripes. And that their refusal to name the darkness of their allegiance for what it is—that denial of blood, death, and human suffering being used to nourish the parasitic heart of imperial sorcery—is precisely what allows the empire they blindly serve to keep operating unchallenged. Because if the violence is glorified, fetishized, and woven into the very fabric of national identity—if it’s never seen as morally corrupt or spiritually diseased—then the system built on it never has to be truly examined. And the myth of their nation’s righteous domination stays intact. And the spell of patriotic sorcery stays unbroken.

And that’s why those of us who do see it (even those of us who awakened later rather than earlier), who can sense the occult engine of human sacrifice fueling the illusion of liberty beneath the national mythos, often feel like we’re living in a collective trance. Like we’re surrounded by people who mistake offerings of flesh and the suffering of the globally plundered and domestically oppressed for freedom, who mistake their hand-me-down indoctrination for sovereign selfhood, and who confuse their own psychological submission with civic virtue. But the truth is, freedom that is built on human sacrifice—which so many of these people would deem demonic, satanic, evil, depraved, and unconscionable if it weren’t wrapped in the colors of their flag and filtered through the lens of patriotic indoctrination—can’t truly be called freedom. It’s spiritual captivity. And until that’s reckoned with, the blood magic they’ve inherited, normalized, and continue to unconsciously feed will remain intact—paraded around as patriotism, moral duty, and cultural identity in each generation, but always driven by the same ancient machinery of occult human sacrifice beneath the surface.