Might Is Right

by Ragnar Redbeard

  “The waves unashamed, in difference sweet,

  Play glad with the breezes; old play-fellows meet.

  The journeying atoms primordial wholes,

  Firmly drawn, firmly driven by their animate poles.

  Sea, earth, air, silence; plant, quadruped, bird;

  By one music enchanted; one deity (nature) stirred.

  Each the other adorning, accompanying still;

  Night veileth the morning; the vapor, the hill.

  Man crouches and blushes, absconds and conceals,

  He creepeth and sneaketh, he palters and steals.

  Infirm, melancholy, jealous; — glancing around;

  An oaf, an accomplice; he poisons the ground.”

  Athletic contests (and combats of all kinds), have a powerful influence in moulding for the better, the personnel of all participants therein. He who must meet worthy antagonists face-to-face and defeat them or be himself defeated, ennobles his own mentality — unconsciously. Courage, coolness, intrepidity, purity of blood, and mental balance, are the athlete’s first requisites. He must therefore be individualistic, self-reliant and calmly resourceful; i.e. he must be brave.

  The brave man is ever generous, frank, outspoken, dauntless. His brow is open — his step fearless and firm — his bearing self-poised, leonine. He looks at you without a tremor — sums you up at a glance, and in business affairs, his “word of honor” is more binding than a Shylock’s sealed bond. He may not be an erudite philosopher — a profound scholar — nor an eminent elocutionist — (nor be troubled over much with the “saving” of his soul) but he is more than all that — he is a man. Hence, everywhere he is first favorite, especially with the feminine gender — whose sexual instincts are as true to Nature as the needle is to the pole.

  What a tremendous difference is noticeable, between the self-contained bearing of the bronzed soldier; and the creeping suavity of the chalky-skinned shopkeeper — the vileness of the Hebrew money-lender — the sweet milk-and-honeyness of the venomous pastor — the base obsequiousness of the lean hireling — the boorishness of the ungainly peasant — and the fat sleek cunning of the tax-eating political? Who can look upon them (bunched together) and honestly affirm, that — fighting does not tend to improve the stamina, beauty, vigor, and seed of the race?

  Healthy animalism is the foundation of all virtues whatsoever. Diseased bodies produce diseased minds. Hence the noxious degeneracy of the average ‘genius.’ Hence also the shrieking madness of the blinded multitude. Average ‘civilized’ men are more or less abortions anyhow — pre-natal megalomaniacs. Sane men could never be induced to worship an Idol (made out of a mendicant Jew) nor would they consciously erect in the name of Progress, State sausage mills for chewing up their own flesh, and sucking their children’s marrow bones. (Deranged minds while being very susceptible to suggestion, possess — no initiative.)

  It is the gibbering “geniuses” that are luring mankind down to eternal damnation. If these monstrous mattoids had been smothered the day they were born — the earth and the air would have been purer, to that extent. Have they not inoculated the human race with every malady; while proclaiming nostrums and “infallible remedies” — for each incurable disease?

  From pulpit, platform and library, they ray out their maniacal babblement; and rabbles, madder than march-hares, suck it all in, with open-mouthed wonderment?

  Hark! do you hear consumptive fiendlings coughing out their literary pestilence in the High places of the World? They would cure “the sufferings of the submerged,” would they?

  Vain is the medicament that expels no contagion! Vain also is the rhetoric that cures no human woe!

  3

  Women take supreme delight in the roll of warlike drums — in the marching of the military, in reading the poems and romances of ‘battle, murder and sudden death.’ (Police Gazettes are mostly supported by women, because of the sensational homicide reports.)

  French women (even against their deep patriotic sentimentalism) admired the fine physique and marital bearing of the German troops, that poured through Paris in ’71. The contrast between the tall, clean-skinned German Conquerors and the dwarfishness of the French National Guards was then most strikingly displayed. In France all ‘brutal’ sports are prohibited. Clericalism there has had full sway for centuries and now majority-box socialism (also cynical squalid sensualism) is all the rage.

  Wherever soldiers conquer in war, they also conquer in love — after the first paroxysm of revengeful patriotism is over. Women of vanquished races are usually very prone to wed with the men who have slaughtered their kindred in battle.

  Rudyard Kipling, in one of his popular ballads touches upon this ethnic peculiarity with a masterly hand: — “By the old Moulmein Pagoda looking eastward to the sea, there’s a Burma girl a settin’ an I know she thinks o’ me; for the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple bells, they say: — ‘Come you back O British Soldier, come you back to Mandalay.”

  After the battle of Senlac, Norman adventurers were the ‘prey’ of fair-haired Saxon maidens. To this hour, wherever soldiers or men-o-wars go, amorous dusky daughters of conquered Islands, absolutely leap into their arms. New Zealand Maori women married British officers, soldiers and sailors in thousands and when the regiments were sent home many men remained rather than break up their families. At Gibraltar, Spanish senoritas literally storm that rock-ribbed fortress to get at the “widow’s-sons.” The loves of Red Indian maidens for Pale Face warriors may some day find a Homer, to clothe them with immortality. Already many have become world-famous; notably the epic of Pocahontas and that erratic filibuster John Smith. Since the marriage of Strongbow to Eva the admixture of Celt and Sassanach blood has proceeded continuously from the same root cause. In garrison towns it is a matter of perpetual witticism the preference which females of all strata display for soldier lovers.

  What modern Gaul requires to reinvigorate her ethnic stamina is wholesale and limitless conquest by some Northern Race. The conquerors by seizing all the land and movable property would become immediately a ruling caste, attracting to themselves all the best feminines of France. This infusion of new blood would not strengthen the inherited physique of the invaders but it would certainly invigorate the structural physique of the defeated tribe.

  No hand should be stretched forth to shield a self-poisoned breed of humans from utter subordination, for an undue preponderance of weakly organisms is not desirable. It is good that they should be swept away and it is better that they should be swept away by war than by pestilence — as in China and India. Enslavement or annihilation is the just reward of wholesale physical debilitation. The Blackfeet’s ruthless warfare against the Digger Indians was in strict accord with the Cosmic Plan.

  The story of the past literally bristles with illustrations of ethnic displacement, carried out (unconsciously perhaps) as herein set forth. But to resume the personal factor. Breseis, after her “dearly beloved” had been slain by Achilles, consoled herself with the self-delightful fact that the slayer would take her, as spoil, to his own bed. The Valkyries (Norse battle-maidens), married only with their conquerors. After the storming of Troy, there was very little ceremony over the union of Ajax and Cassandra, in the temple of Minerva. All through the Illiad epic, women are at once the property, the conqueror’s prize, and the inspiration of all the Homeric Warriors.

  It is notorious that when Roman and Greek matrons discovered no parental virility in their debauched consorts; they deliberately made advances to the blonde-bearded barbarians; who had been imported from the frontiers (prisoners of war) to wrestle in the amphitheatre. Many a dark-eyed patrician ‘maiden of Italia’ throbbed with secret joy, at the duel-victory of her favorite fighter; and many another has wept her eyes out, as the greedy remorseless sand, drank up the hearts blood of her ‘dying gladiator.’ American women’s passion for marrying foreigners, arises more or less, from similar instincts. American born men evince an alarming tendency towards impotency. (Vide cen
sus returns). An immense number of them are ‘old before they are young’ and a very large proportion (more especially in the cities) are lean lantern jawed profligates, or leering bald-headed wrecks.

  The noblest born maids and matrons of Rome vied with each other for Cæsar’s smile — when he (after killing one million men, and enslaving two million, became Imperator. Queens were proud to be his concubines; and one of his own natural sons (without knowing the fact) helped to assassinate him. The love scandals of David, Solomon, Aaron Burr, Sigurd the Volsung, Hercules, Jupiter, Apollo, Jehovah, Isis, Sir Galahad, Charles II, Henry VIII, Bonaparte, Alexander, Raleigh, and that dashing triumvir Marc Antony, have affected, for better or for worse, the whole world.

  ‘Better the mistress of a king, than the wife of a subject,’ was a saying once popular amongst European women, in the ages when kings were really kings of men — when they were mail-clad sword-swingers — mighty men-of-valor. Modern “kings” are simulacra — dilettante, scarecrows, — robed in purple, and paid liberal salaries to impersonate regalism for the delectation of the vulgar. Marionettes are they! — fitted only to lay foundation-stones — utter vicarious homilies — read off type-written deceptions; or now and then dress up in swashbuckler accoutrements, to review Messrs Rothschild, Ikelheimer, Bleichroder & Co’s prætorian guards, marching by in serried column — with nodding plumes and bannered panoply of war.

  Modern kings are degenerates; even more so (if that be possible) than their laborious subjects. They have allowed all kingly Initiative to be wrested from them; by the diabolical cunning of that ‘plastic dæmon’ the Jew banker — that Mephistophelian manipulator of National Debts and National Credits. Kings have not been equal to the occasion and resultantly they and their brain-drugged subjects are “bonded” to the Israelite. The Jew has been supinely permitted to do — what Alexander, Cæsar, Nusherwan, and Napoleon failed to accomplish — crown himself Emperor of the World; and collect his vast tributes from ‘the ends of the earth.’ From the Mississippi valley to the plains of the Hoang-Ho — from Spitzbergen’s icy uplands to New Zealand’s iron shores — his satraps bear sway, and his tax-gatherers pillage, ravage, and rob. As long as the Aryan Race bows down (even nominally), at the Sign of the Cross or vacuously endeavors to ‘keep the commandments,’ it is hopelessly entangled — it is delivered up — a burnt sacrificial offering — to the dolabra of the sons of Jacob — Jacob the supplanter.

  Maimonides the philosopher of Hebraism boldly suggested this view to orthodox Talmudists: — ‘The teachings of the Christian Church’ he proclaimed ‘tend to bring to perfection all mankind, so that they serve Jehovah with one consent. For, since the whole world is thus full of the words of the Messiah; of the teachings of the Holy Writ, and the Commandments, these words have spread to the ends of the earth, even if any man deny the binding character of them now.’ Which being interpreted meaneth: — Tolerate O children of Israel, the false religion of the Crucified Prophet! It will serve your ends most admirably. When the tribes of the West ‘serve Jehovah with one consent’ — Behold! they shall also serve you. Christ shall ‘bring them to perfection,’ and ye shall put them in bonds. They have made you weep and suffer; ye shall make them drip tears of blood; for the Lord your God hath said it.’

  Nineteen centuries of evangelization (with a Hebrew bible as basis) has resulted in — what? The political, social, financial, and philosophical domination of — the Hebrew. We study his falsified chronicles, his melancholy literature, and his prophetic outpourings; as if alone, in such a nauseous heap of rubbish and stench the summum bonum was to be found. Not an acre changeth hands — not a battle-ship lifts an anchor — not a ploughshare cleaves the soil — not a president vetoes a Bill — not a diplomat signs a protocol — not an emperor waves a saber, without direct inspiration from the hidden Hebrew Potentate. Behold! — “the King is in his counting-house, counting out his money” — and such a king! Israel is absolute dictator, because he is absolute Proprietor. The gold and the silver and the credits of the world belong to him, and as long as he hires politicians to utilize the military arm of ‘government,’ in the collection of his ‘loans’ — in the defense of his ironclad safety-vaults, he is an irresponsible Jehovah-Jirah. But should Force ever fail him, “the lean dogs outside the wall” will leap snarling upon him and spoil him of his spoil; that the fittest may survive.

  ‘The Jews are ministers of Gold — Great Bankers who see in the People and the State a mine to be worked.[22] “Our life blood is drawn from us by these harpies of finance and the gaming table, who mock us with illusions, while they strip us of our all.”[23] “The harm which the Jews commit does not come from individuals, but from the very constitution of these people; they are locusts, caterpillars, which ravage France, to whom commerce ought to be prohibited.”[24]

  These are two distinct yet parallel species of the parasitical Semite: — The first, represented by Marx, LaSalle, Stepniak, and Jesus-the-dreamer: the second, by Goshen, Rothschild, Baring, and Iscariot-the-Banker. Between them they’ve practically extinguished civil liberty and personal independence, wherever they have been sheltered. Viper like, do they not bite the very mamæ that gives them suck? What have they ever done to Gaul but eat her heart out; and Gaul was first to “emancipate” them? What are they now doing to Germany, Russia, England, America, Africa, Australia? Poisoning the brain-cells of the enslaved multitude while taking-in-pledge — the plough and the harrow — the millstones and the mill.

  Over nations and empires and colonies in vassalage, hangs the Idol-sign of the Brazen Crucifix (that cures no ill.) Over a world in bondage looms the dread shadow of the Three Golden Balls.

  4

  As the stars and the suns and primordial atoms, attract each other by odic force, so do handsome women and brave men. The nerve cells of splendid feminines and resolute warriors vibrate in rhythmic unison. Between them there is a mutual free-masonry, that neither “creed” nor “culture” has ever been able to eradicate; because it is part of the cosmic plan for evolving a higher, and yet a higher type.

  Womenkind mobilize in battalions-of-beauty, at football matches, ball tournaments, aquatic carnivals, and sham battle; just as feminines of “Auld-langsyne” gathered at the archery sports — the Colliseum combats — the Olympian games, and the Neolithic war-dances. In their worship of the warrior, Indian squaws, lionesses and ball-room belles are in harmonious accord.

  Even in years of peace (peace may be considered a temporary truce — a partial suspension of the struggle for survival) civilians in female society are at a heavy discount, when the gold-braided naval lieutenant or the ‘Captain-in-his-whiskers’ is prowling around. At balls and receptions, the marital uniform carries all before it sexually, (more especially if there be a man inside) just as it does among the head hunters of Borneo, the cannibals of the Congo, the redskins of Oklahoma — or the gruesome savages of Chicago.

  University professors (priests disguised) and supersanct demagogues, may rail in florid prose and honeyed lines of rhyme, against ‘militarism’ and the ‘horrors of war,’ but they might, much more logically, rear-up on their hind legs and bray furiously at the belts of Orion; or kick out in silly desperation, at the glancing spears of the Northern Lights.

  Those literary ‘luminaries’ (whose business is to dwarf public opinion) with spectacles on their noses — madness in their cerebrums — congestion in their livers — saplessness in their bones — fear in their hearts and pens between their snaky fingers, are never enthusiastically “selected” by virile women. When these poor miserable manlings (genius’s they name each other) do happen (by some lucky chance), to get a woman, they make her life a torment, and scarcely ever leave any progeny behind them, for the doom of degeneracy is upon every nerve and filament of their bodies. Who ever heard of a lovelorn virgin risking her life, or her reputation, to mate herself with a sanctimonious creeping-thing, or bespectacled savant? Did you ever look upon a great drama wherein the hero did not do a bit of fighting? P
rince Charming is ever a performer of gallant actions — he conquers giants — outwits knaves — slaughters monsters — pulverises wicked enchanters and is an all round perambulating Terror to the wicked — that is to say to “the other fellow.”

  A recent account of the Indian mutiny, states that the first outbreak (at Meerut), was precipitated by ‘a splendid native girl, hung with jasmine garlands’ who womanlike, taunted her sepoy lover by hissing in his face, when he came to visit her: — “We of the Bazaar kiss no cowards.” He left her in a rage and went out to recklessly precipitate the Insurrection, that ended by the blowing of “the defeated” from the mouths of the conqueror’s cannon.

  As agents provocateurs women have never been surpassed by men. Cornelia trained up her two brilliant sons, with a view to hurl them against and overturn the Roman Oligarchs; a city harlot led the Sans-Cullotes of the French Revolution. Queen Boadicea led her own army of painted Britons against the, then all-conquering Legions of Rome. A female epileptoid (since canonized) dressed herself in iron armor, mounted a war-horse, and urged her demoralized countrymen — to the forcible expulsion of an alien army. In American wars the feminine has also played her part with eclat; and she delights (above all other women) in tracing her own and her family’s pedigree to Revolutionary Soldiers, Pirates, Filibusters; and through them to the mailclad knights and heroes of long ago. No Public Library in this Republic is without its complete set of Stud-Books, and none are deeper students thereof then — woman. Instinctively comprehending the determinant power of heredity, these students are vaguely endeavoring (in their own peculiar way), to solve the renowned Spencerian Synthetic: — “Having seen that matter is indestructible, motion continuous, and Force persistent — having seen that Forces are everywhere undergoing transformation; that motion always follows the line of least resistance; is invariably rhythmic; it remains to discover the similarly invariable formula, expressing the combined consequences of actions, thus separately formulated.”