Those entities who believe they own the whole of the world send in dancing puppets, beautiful, scantily clad succubusses, to wiggle and giggle and see if the cobra will rise from its basket and do a little weave and bob according to the dancing puppets will.

“Lust will be your downfall,” said the Most High to the warriors. Absolutely. A man who cannot control his mind, or his phallus, tends to “do the dance” and fall every time.

The hidden controllers have used the enslaved or agreeable Womb of Power against mankind for centuries, while causing great suffering for the Divine Feminine who tries, but cannot compete with the illusion, the alluring dance.

She doesn’t wiggle her hips like that.
She doesn’t dress to gain a rise out of the snake.
She’s busy building things, adding value to her soul, while he’s chasing smoke … looking for fire.

It’s too bad the Creatress doesn’t light his inner fire to match her efforts for creation … that he feels compelled to dance for the masters puppet, straight into fire of destruction.