One of the ways that my two cats are like a classic comedy duo is that Nineveh is almost totally silent whereas Kaiju regularly wanders the apartment wailing like a woman for her demon lover. At first this distressed me, because it seemed he was in distress, but now that we've lived together for a while I've learned to regard his yowling as a kind of very noticeable verbal tic with (in most instances) no innate significance. It wasn't until I was reminded of this quote from Shakespeare that it occurred to me he might be practicing witchcraft, or trying to. Only his top half is brinded, which may be the witchcraft equivalent of having a Jewish father and a gentile mother and not being taken seriously by anyone, even demons. Like Buer, the other handsome fellow in panel three, as depicted in the 1863 Dictionnaire Infernal by Louis le Breton, a French artist who mostly drew boats and sensible things like that. Buer can teach you botany and logic, if you manage to summon him, and while I'm sure he'd scare the daylights out of me if I ever saw him in person, I think most of you would agree that Breton's depiction is a little goofy. Do you suppose he moves around by rolling like a wheel? That would make an awful noise on my hardwood floors.
I am, as I've mentioned before, fascinated by mysticism and pseudoscience and the sovereign citizen movement and all that stuff that involves elaborate systems of rules based on no facts whatever. There's something so pure and compelling to me about imagination arranged in the shape of reality. Demonology is great for this, with the bonus of totally rad illustrations like Breton's. His demons mostly look as if they'd rather be somewhere else, which seems fitting to me, for demons. Like Stolas here, who's trying to remember if he left the oven on:
Nineveh, of course, is half of a black cat, being a tuxedo. Maybe together she and Kaiju could summon something.