'Black magic? I'm out says king witch', The Argus (Brighton), 23 May 1970

The Argus (Brighton), Saturday 23 May 1970, page 7. Alex and Maxine Sanders were in Brighton on 22 May for a private showing of Legend of the Witches before it opened at the Academy cinema. Over a Scotch Alex tells the reporter: "My advice to anyone involved in black magic is to get out of it." He repeats the account he gave in these years: seven years as a black magician in Manchester, the death of his sister, initiation by his grandmother at seven and, he says, by Aleister Crowley at ten (the… paper spells it "Aleistair"). "White magic is the nuclear energy of life, black magic is the bomb." He speaks openly of being bisexual. Maxine, 23, says: "He is a good man, and still very human. He likes his pint..." These are Alex's claims as the paper printed them, several of them disputed since. With a large double portrait of Alex and Maxine. Cropped to the article, with the portrait and the full page. How to cite: 'Black magic? I'm out says king witch', The Argus, Brighton, 23 May 1970, p. 7. Alexandrian Witchcraft Timeline & Archive.

[ photo of Alex and Maxine Sanders ] Alex Sanders and his wife Maxine Black magic? I’m out says king witch ALEX SANDERS, Britain’s “king of the witches,” downed a Scotch, fingered a ring, the seal of which was a present from Aleistair Crowley, and told me: “My advice to anyone involved in black magic is to get out of it.” I met Sanders, who is a slightly-built, balding 43-year-old Lancastrian, when he came to Brighton yesterday for a private showing of the film “Legend of the Witches,” which opens at the Academy next Thursday. He said: “I lived for seven years as a black magician in Manchester. I switched to white magic after the death of my sister. There was an open verdict at the inquest and her death may have been the result of my work, without my intending it. “It is the price I paid for doing wrong, and I know I have done wrong. I went to help two alsatians which were out in the road in the middle of the traffic, and when I touched them they fell down and died.” Sanders and his attractive blonde 23-year-old wife Maxine appear in the film. She is his third wife. His first died of cancer, and his second marriage was dissolved. Maxine came with him to the private showing. “He used to push me around in a pram when I was seven weeks old,” she said. “He was a friend of my mother, although she was a devout Roman Catholic.” Sanders told me: “These days I only practice white magic. I use my powers to do good. I heal people. I oppose black magic, for I know it to be evil. White magic is the nuclear energy of life, black magic is the bomb. It’s a question of having to grow up or blow up. “My grandmother was a witch. She initiated me when I was seven. When I was 10 Aleistair Crowley initiated me into his rites. I think he was a good man, not an evil force.” Crowley died, aged 72, at a boarding house near Hastings in 1947. He made his first experiment into the occult at Eastbourne more than 80 years ago. Crowley was known as “Sex-Sex-Sex” and “the anti-Christ.” One of his associates was Ron Hubbard, founder of Scientology, which now has its world headquarters at East Grinstead. Sanders said he had no knowledge of Scientology. Why did he become a black magician? “This happened when the dark side of myself took over,” he said. “I know I have the power to kill. But I have never intentionally killed anyone and nor do I intend to.” Referring to publicity about his “curse” on a News of the World investigator, he said this was “a joke.” He showed me a tattoo on his hand and said: “Aleistair Crowley did that. It is the mark of the beast.” He said that 13 high priestesses crowned him king of the witches in 1965. “No one has ever opposed me except one silly little nut.” Sanders told me: “I have a fortune of £200,000. I am bisexual, and have lived as a homosexual with many men, all of whom left me money.” Said Maxine: “He is a good man, and still very human. He likes his pint . . .” King of the witches? Perhaps. All I can report is that I found him a pleasant enough, rather nondescript and totally inoffensive little man.