Silicon Valley Just Built a Chainsaw Wielding Goat Demon Robot... (I’m not kidding.)
Babylon Is Rising and This Time It’s Bringing Robots
Okay, before we get into the “goat demon” robot with the chainsaw we need some background first. I’ve been tracking a trend for the last five years where Silicon Valley and other tech types keep naming robots and other high-tech devices after demons, fallen angels, you name it. At first I figured it was just edgy marketing. But after digging into these dozen or so CITY SIZE AI data centers being planned that all just happen to be named after DEMONS and PAGAN GODS I’ve reached a conclusion.
When Elon Musk said at an MIT event back in 2014 that “with AI we are summoning the demon” he wasn’t just being cute. He was laughing at the rest of us powerless to do a damn thing while the richest people on the planet literally summon demons from Hell and stuff them into robot bodies because that’s clearly going to work out great for everybody.
Idiots.
With that said let’s get into some background before we hit the rest of the article. This one took me a week to write so I hope it isn’t absolutely terrible. Lily didn’t have time to help edit this round so I ran it through Grammarly which means if the prose reads a little too “academic” (aka horrible) in spots now you know why.
Back in October of 2024 the city of Toulouse in France threw itself a big three day street festival. Giant mechanical robots the size of a house paraded through downtown while families lined the sidewalks with kids up on their shoulders. Sounds charming, right? Bring the whole family to the Gates of Hell!
The festival was called La Porte des Ténèbres. (That translates to The Gate of Darkness.) The star of the show was a five story tall half woman, half scorpion, bare-breasted monster named Lilith. (The child-eating demoness from Jewish folklore.) The city’s own printed program calls her Lilith and describes her as the one who “controls the passage between our world and that of the underworld.” This wasn’t just a case of using an interesting sounding name for their star attraction. This was purposeful. This was deliberate. There is no whitewashing their intent.
This was a Satanic ritual disguised as a parade.
It explains she was freed by Hades and now wanders from city to city harvesting damned souls while she works on prying open a doorway to the ‘other side’. (An event celebrating a child-eating whore demon trying to rip into Hell and free her friends. Kids watched this.) Her supporting cast was a Minotaur (Moloch?) and a giant demonic spider. The poster showed burning churches and walking skeletons.
Now I don’t know about you, but when I’m planning a fun weekend for children my first call is usually not to the baby stealing demon of ancient folklore. Call me old fashioned.
It gets worse. On opening night, in Act I Scene 1 the show presented what the program calls three ‘prodigious signs“.
Those signs were Satan’s cross, Lucifer’s Sigil, and the sign of the beast.
I am not interpreting hidden symbolism here. They PRINTED it. There is a line item in the Toulouse city budget, somewhere between road repair and library books, that paid for the Sigil of Lucifer, and some clerk stamped that invoice and went to lunch.
When reporters asked, the director insisted his show contained no satanic references. His show about a demon queen opening a portal to hell with the Sigil of Lucifer had no satanic references. And the press nodded along and wrote it up as a quirky arts festival with some grumpy Catholics attached.
The Archbishop of Toulouse was apparently the only adult left in France. He took one look at what was scheduled for his streets and consecrated the whole city to the Sacred Heart of Jesus to protect it from what he called ‘dark threats’.
The French Protestant Federation publicly backed him, and if you know French church politics you know Protestants siding with a Catholic archbishop is basically a miracle worthy of its own feast day. His reward was getting written up as a superstitious old man who was scared of puppets.
Because okay, those were, technically-speaking, puppets. (Extremely advanced puppets on par with something out of a Hollywood special effects studio but, again, technically puppets.
Nobody would seriously build satanic looking REAL robots, right?
RIGHT?
They’re building them right now.
Welcome to clown world my friends...
A Pentagon-Contracted Robotics Firm Named their Flagship Robot Soldier After the Titan Who Warred Against Heaven
In April of 2024 Boston Dynamics released the reveal video for their new flagship humanoid robot and to understand why this matters you need to know who Boston Dynamics actually is. This is not some cuddly gadget company. They cut their teeth building war machines for the Pentagon. BigDog, the robotic pack mule, was built for DARPA. The LS3 squad support robot, built for DARPA. The Atlas program itself was born out of DARPA, which for the uninitiated is the military’s black ops technology agency. The same shop behind some of the most dangerous weapons technology America has ever produced. So a combat robotics company raised on black budget weapons money built a humanoid machine and then they had to give it a name.
They named it ATLAS. The Titan who warred against Heaven.
Think about that. Atlas led the Titans in open war against the throne of heaven, lost, and got sentenced to eternal punishment for it. Out of every name in every language on earth, the Pentagon’s favorite robot builders reached for the being who raised an army against God.
You don’t pick that name because it sounds cool. A name like that is a mission statement. They are telling you what these machines are for. And if you’ve read my Nephilim work you already know the Greeks weren’t the only people who remembered giant rebels making war on Heaven and getting crushed for it.
Nimrod ran this exact play at Babel and got his tower scattered to the winds. The difference is that this time nobody is waiting around for ten foot Nephilim in battle armor. This time the army is going to be robots.
And the reveal video backs up every word of that. They could have shown Atlas walking out into the light or shaking somebody’s hand. Instead it opens with Atlas laying flat on the floor like a corpse at a crime scene. Its legs bend BACKWARD over its own torso in a direction legs do not go, it hoists itself off the mat in reverse, and the head rotates a full 180 degrees to stare into the camera while the body still faces the other way. Then the body twists around to catch up with its own skull and the machine walks straight at the lens.
The entire tech press compared it to a high-tech version of the iconic head-spinning, demonic possession scene from The Exorcist (because there was no other honest comparison) and a YouTube commenter under the official video asked the only question that mattered - “Are they purposely designing pure terror?”
One more comment from under that video, and hang onto it because it comes back later. “You guys should publish where the battery locations are on these units, you know, just in case.”
Now onto the start of the show! The chainsaw-wielding, black goat monstrosity that was unveiled last week.
The Black Goat of Auburn, California
One of my researchers fired a picture into my inbox this week with no warning, and I’m man enough to admit I flinched. A company nobody had ever heard of, called Satyress, out of Auburn California, went viral with a machine called Threehalves. It’s the picture at the top of this article. Stop reading for a second and actually look at it. Let it look back at you.
Every inch of it is jet black and I don’t mean sleek Apple product black. I mean the flat lightless black of the shape standing at the foot of your bed at 3am black. And up top, where every other robotics company bolts a boring sensor box, these people lovingly sculpted the head of a black goat with horns.
And the photos are a crime scene of intent. In the company’s own promotional shots this thing stands in a forest clearing next to a pickup truck gripping a full size chainsaw. Another shot has it staring through a glass office door from the dark side of the glass like the world’s worst job applicant. Rescue robots get photographed carrying stretchers. This thing got a horror movie cinematographer.
The company says it’s for search and rescue in wildfires and collapsed buildings, and I’ll be fair for exactly one paragraph, because the four legged part is real engineering. Quadrupeds don’t tip over on rubble. NASA built a centaur shaped robot years ago and Europe built one for disaster response and both of those had boxes for heads. Cameras in boxes. Because a box is what the job requires and nobody ever screamed at them.
Which means the goat head is the message. No wildfire requires horns and no collapsed building requires a robot that looked like it stepped straight out of the gates of cybernetic Hell. A human being opened a CAD program and sculpted a black goat’s skull vertex by vertex. Another human approved it and a third paid the invoice. And in case anyone was tempted to call it an accident they named the company SATYRESS after the goat people of pagan myth. Nimrod’s son Tammuz was sometimes described as appearing like a human-goat hybrid with black fur. Gee, I wonder if it was a happy coincidence that this company made the mecha-satan version of the Tyrant King of Babylon’s kid? (Get it? Kid. Because baby goats are called kids. I think? I don’t know. I didn’t actually Google it to verify it. Sue me. Wait — don’t. I can’t afford an attorney.)
Eliphas Levi drew his famous Sabbatic Goat in 1856, the Baphomet, and it has been the master logo of occultism ever since. The Devil card in the tarot deck. The statue the Satanic Temple hauls up courthouse steps. The head Hollywood nails to the wall when a movie needs you to understand BAD PLACE in three seconds. It is the single most recognizable devil image in Western civilization and these guys welded it onto a machine and handed it a chainsaw.
You can accidentally leave the oven on. You cannot accidentally build Baphomet. That took design reviews with somebody in the room saying ‘paint it flat black and make the horns bigger.’
The public clocked it in four seconds because regular people are not stupid. The top reply under one of the biggest news accounts on X was “They lost me with the baphomet head.”
Now here’s the part that took me from annoyed to opening a case file. Nobody knows who these actually people are.
I couldn’t find who actually owns the company, who designed it, who approved the design. There are a few bits and pieces here but they’re just placeholder names. The most thorough industry writeup on Satyress flat out admits the company materialized from nowhere and almost nothing is published about its founders. No names on the website, no interviews, no funding announcements, nothing. I crawled through California’s indexed corporate filings myself and found zilch. Federal trademarks came back the same. So whoever built the goat either filed paperwork too fresh to surface or filed under a different name or incorporated in one of those states where officer names go to disappear.
Every one of those is a choice somebody made with their hands. Bureaucracy doesn’t pile itself into a wall. Somebody stacked those bricks.
Understand how unnatural that is. Robotics founders are the most shamelessly self-promoting creatures God ever breathed life into and not because they’re vain. It’s because they’re broke! A machine like this costs a fortune and the whole startup playbook is one sentence long. Founder gets famous, fame raises money, money builds robot. Going viral is winning the lottery, and when your number comes up you leap onto every podcast in America shouting your name with the wire instructions stapled to your forehead. Satyress won the lottery this week with the whole planet watching and they said nothing. Showed nobody. Vanished behind the goat.
A company that doesn’t ask for money already has money. So whose money is it? Who bankrolls an anonymous goat demon and needs this badly to not be seen doing it? I don’t know yet.
I intend to find out.
Oh, and they want you to know the thing is ‘safe’. They published a whole document about it. There are pressure tanks on its chest you can shoot or stab to lock the machine in place. It supposedly can’t turn around in a narrow hallway. And the horns, and I am reading this straight off their own materials, are ‘deliberately sized so the robot can’t fit through your front door’. The demon horns are the childproofing!
That is copout PR and it insults your intelligence. You can armor the tanks in a Tuesday afternoon with a welder. The robot can turn the head sideways and walk through the doorway, a maneuver mastered by every moving day couch in history. Not one syllable of that document constrains anybody who owns the machine and doesn’t feel like being constrained. It’s a pressure relief valve alright… just not for air. It’s for public opinion. It exists so a lazy reporter can type “but don’t worry it has failsafes” instead of asking why a rescue robot looks like the thing rescue workers pray against.
And remember the commenter begging Boston Dynamics to publish the battery locations? Satyress actually did it. The one company that hands out a map of where to shoot their robot is the one that built it to look like something you’d have to.
Nobody Names a Robot Steve
After the goat I sat down and went through the industry’s christening book, and I need company in here, because it’s ugly.
Boston Dynamics named their labor robot Atlas, the Titan who warred on heaven. Apptronik, backed by Google money, named their humanoid Apollo the pagan god. A European firm sells a humanoid named TALOS, and if you don’t know Talos, let me ruin your evening. Talos was the bronze giant of Greek myth who circled Crete crushing intruders to death. He was the first robot Western man ever imagined, and our ancestors imagined him as a weapon. Amazon just rolled out a warehouse robot named Vulcan, the forge god. MIT built one called Hermes. Europe’s disaster centaur was Centauro and the university goat man was Satyrr. And the AI data centers going up across America keep getting named after demons and fallen angels, a pattern I spent the last year documenting in these pages receipt by receipt. The archive is open. Go look.
Titans, gods, monsters, demons, the fallen. That’s the entire naming pool. An industry with every word in every language available keeps reaching into the pagan pantheon and the demonology shelf and nowhere else, and every company shrugs that it’s just a cool name while the pile of cool names quietly becomes a pantheon. A coincidence repeated this many times stops being a coincidence. It becomes a vocabulary, and a vocabulary this consistent is a confession.
The men of Babel built their tower to make a name for themselves. These men build theirs while scrubbing every name they’ve got, then christen the machines with the names of the very ‘gods’ that built the thing. Same tower, same demonic spirits.
Your gut already handed you the sane reaction three paragraphs ago. What the literal hell are these tech bros building? The beautiful part is you don’t need a preacher’s word for the answer, because the industry answered it over a decade ago.
October 2014, MIT, on camera. Elon Musk, the man who would become the richest human being alive, gets asked about artificial intelligence and says word for word: “With artificial intelligence we are summoning the demon.”
In all those stories where there’s the guy with the pentagram and the holy water, it’s like, yeah, he’s sure he can control the demon… but it never works out in the end.
This is satanic technology. I’ve been saying it for years, and the answer always came back the same. Show me the hard evidence. Fair enough, evidence is the job. So here’s the file. A taxpayer funded Lucifer ritual in a major Western city. A flagship robot named for the Titan who warred on heaven and introduced with possession choreography. A synthetic man the public christened after a demon. A machine that IS the textbook devil of Western art, built by ghosts, running on money with no fingerprints, posed with a chainsaw. A christening book with nothing in it but gods, monsters, and the fallen. And the industry’s most famous man on video telling you in one sentence what all of it is.
Well there it is folks. The hard evidence. Babylon is rising and this time it’s bringing robots.
The bishop grabbed the holy water and I’d quit laughing at him if I were you.
Somewhere out in the California woods, money with no name on it is funding goat demons. Over here, a man is funding this newsletter out of a banking app that crashes every time I open it. The Wise Wolf runs on one funding source and that source is you. Every paid subscription keeps these investigations coming, helps Lily recover from a summer spent herding camp children for pay I can only describe as ‘theoretical’ and nudges me one tank of gas closer to the newsvan. Which will be registered under my real name like a normal person not a tech bro building satan robots.
Help keep the Wise Wolf howling.
Banger, WW
Fr. Gabriele Amorth (RIP), chief exorcist of the diocese of Rome, wrote in passing about demonic infestation -- demonic activity involving things, objects. We're going to need more info about what that entails, because that abomination up top isn't meant to be just plastic and metal.
WW, you should be appearing on the top 10 podcasts in the world, exposing this stuff.
I've seen it, that stuff is 2 meter high!