Call the beast Behemoth or Belial, 666 or Crowley, but beware the glittering eye, the bravado, the twisting scintillation of descent, as if the pratfall were an elegant Olympian dive. As if he had not been pushed. Why such strident attention-getting, such a showy body, other than to counter the greatest terror-- of having been brushed aside?
A fine Japanese woodcut shows a woman in ecstatic embrace with an octopus.
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