Today I was quite pleased to give a lecture at a local college on Satanism and the Church of Satan. I quickly spliced together the audio and video to put a sample online, but the full editing of the video will take a bit of time.
Category Archives: Outside My House
Secular Blogging / Ingersoll Oratory Contest First Place Video
I’ve been invited to blog over at Secular Perspectives, a regional blog for “secular humanists, atheists, agnostics, freethinkers, brights and others”. I’m a couple of those, and I’ve submitted my first post the other day. I haven’t decided what kind of stuff I’ll be writing, but keep yer good eye open.
The video for my winning Robert G. Ingersoll speech was uploaded to YouTube this morning. I’m going to start a video page at the top to collect that kind of stuff in one place. Damn my hair looked good that day.
Suzanne Perry wrote the following in November. I think it was supposed to be for print, but I’m not sure. It’s available at the Contest Website.
PRIZES AWARDED IN SECOND ANNUAL ROBERT G. INGERSOLL ORATORY CONTEST
Washington, DC, November 2010 – Kevin Slaughter, of Essex, Md., won first prize in the second annual Robert G. Ingersoll Oratory Contest for his rendition of an Ingersoll lecture about blasphemy, “How the Gods Grow.”
Slaughter, competing for the second time, took top honors at the October event in Washington, D.C.’,s Dupont Circle, which was designed to bring to life the words of the 19th-century orator known as the “Great Agnostic.”
A graphic designer, publisher and sign maker who has emceed burlesque shows and hosts a podcast, Slaughter says he has been an atheist since high school and started reading Ingersoll seriously after hearing about last year’s oratory contest. “In the Venn diagram of things I’m interested in, Ingersoll finds himself at the intersection of my fascination with forgotten/intentionally neglected icons of the early 20th century, lost art forms and entertainments, godlessness and anti-theism,” he says.
Slaughter won $150; a rare original period poster including a color gravure photo of Ingersoll with his grandchildren, a quote from “Love,” and a facsimile signature; and the biography Robert G. Ingersoll: A Life, by Frank Smith.
The contest was sponsored by the Washington Area Secular Humanists (WASH), the Center for Inquiry DC, the American Humanist Association, and the Robert Green Ingersoll Birthplace Museum as a way to revive interest in Ingersoll–a Civil War veteran, successful lawyer and political speaker who has been neglected by history.
The seven contestants entertained the audience with Ingersoll’s critiques of religion, defense of reason and liberty, and homages to Charles Darwin and Walt Whitman. The contest, held outdoors to draw attention of the public, attracted numerous passersby who stopped to watch, take fliers about the event, or sign up for e-mail notices.
The other winners were:
Second place: Donald Ardell, of St. Petersburg, Fla., a writer, speaker, and blogger on REAL (reason, exuberance, athleticism, and liberty) wellness. Speaking from memory, he presented selections from three Ingersoll works: “A Reply to the Rev. Henry M. Field, D.D.,” “About the Holy Bible,” and a speech at the Lotus Club’s 20th anniversary dinner. He won $100, a mounted photo of Ingersoll and his two granddaughters, and the Smith biography of Ingersoll.
Third Place: Tony Toledo , of Beverly, Mass., a professional storyteller. He presented selections from four Ingersoll works: “Reply to Rev. Drs. Thomas and Lorimer,” “The Ghosts,” “The Gods,” and “What is Religion?” He won $75 and a book, The Best of Robert Ingersoll, by Roger E. Greeley.
Fourth Place: Wendy Shore, of Ashton, Md., a triathlete and academic researcher. She read an excerpt from an Ingersoll letter, “How to Edit a Liberal Paper.” She won $50 and a book, Reason, Tolerance and Christianity: The Ingersoll Debates.Each contestant also won one of two DVDs: about the Ingersoll museum in Dresden (see http://www.rgimuseum.org) or about D.M. Bennett, founder of Truth Seeker magazine (see http://vimeo.com/10514808 .
The prizes were awarded by a panel of three judges: Margaret Downey, founder of Freethought Society of Greater Philadelphia; Tom Flynn, Executive Director of the Council for Secular Humanism and Director of the Ingersoll Birthplace Museum; and Monifa (Mo) Hamilton of Washington, a Distinguished Toastmaster and Lieutenant Governor of the world’s 10th largest Toastmasters District.
Ms. Downey helped to open the event by performing in period costume as Ingersoll’s wife, Eva, known as “a woman without superstition”. Robert and Eva Ingersoll lived in Washington, DC, on Lafayette Square from 1878-1883 and were most surely seen in Dupont Circle.
Steve Lowe, founder of the Ingersoll Oratory Contest, thanks the coordinating committee, judges, sponsors and especially the contestants for their contributions in making one of his favorite Ingersoll sayings come true: “The hands that help are better far than the lips that pray.”
In addition to Steve, the coordinating committee included Lindsay Gemberling, Beth Kingsley, Suzanne Perry, and Jeff Randall.
The other contestants were Joseph Ben-David, of New York City; Craig Howell, of Washington, D.C.; and Steven E. Jones, of Herndon, Va.
For more information about the contest, including videos of the presentations, go to http://www.ingersollcontest.wordpress.com. Write to Ingersoll@wash.com with questions or comments.
–Suzanne Perry
Book Nerd :: New and Used Books, Dark Ages, Camel City and Coop [VIDEO UPDATE]
I booked a flight and secured a seat at the 2011 AmRen Conference, and set aside a few days to spend with the folks in the town of my birth. As you can see from the prior blog post, the conference didn’t work out so well, but there was a last minute “shadow conference” set up, called the “American Dark Age Meetup“. I’ll be doing a podcast in regards to all that, so I can skimp here.
There are probably folks there who would disagree with me on many things, and I them. There is a lot I would agree with. Most likely it would all be done in a polite manner, unlike those who sought to shut it down, who now gloat that attendees don’t deserve the right to free speech.
As this is a Book Nerd post, it’s an update to new books that I’ve added to the library, and I’ve stacked them up according to day I acquired them.
Friday, 2/4 in Winston-Salem:
(Goodwill)
Drunkard’s Walk, How Randomness Rules Our Lives by Leonard Mlowdinow (not pictured, oops)
(Piedmont Books on Reynolda Rd.)
Sin in the Second City: Madams, Ministers, Playboys, and the Battle for America’s Soul by Karen Abbott (hadn’t heard of it, but hell, it sounds good)
The End of Faith by Sam Harris (I couldn’t remember if I had this or not. Because I’m rearranging books right now, I still don’t.)
Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali
Saturday, 2/5 in Charlotte:
Since the American Dark Age Meetup was sponsored by Lighthouse Literature, I wanted to give them money for their effort. I picked up about $75 worth of dead tree, and surprisingly all fiction titles. All the non-fiction I either had or was not interested in. I can’t comment on the actual writing, as I haven’t read any of them, but I will say that I’m REALLY impressed with “Mister”. On my initial browsing of the book, it appears that the type is set well, the jacket is designed well, and it’s a thick, well bound hardback with a built-in bookmarker (see photo). All links are directly to Lighthouse Literature, as if you’re interested in picking one of these up, I’d want you to support them.
White Apocalypse by Kyle Bristow
Hitler: The Adjournment by Troy Southgate
Mister by Alex Kurtagic
Sunday back in Winston-Salem:
( Edwin McKay books off Stratford Rd. )
Diversity: The Invention of a Concept by Peter Wood
Forgotten Fatherland by Ben Macintyre (I see that the paperback got a new cover with TWO swastikas and a subtitle change)
The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins (I’ve listened to the audiobook, but this copy was cheap enough)
The Age of American Unreason by Susan Jacoby (I’ve heard good things about this)
1001 MAD Pages You Must Read Before You Die by Mad Magazine (I picked this up to replace the 14 paperbacks that live in the bathroom)
Monday:
nothing! I mainly hit thrift and antique stores, but came up with nada.
Tuesday home in Baltimore:
(I arrived home to a package from a freind, it included the following…)
Oh! Dr. Kinsey! a Photographic Response to the Kinsey Report (this is GREAT, and a nice mate to The Frenchman: A Photographic Interview with Fernandel)
Beyond the River of the Dead by D.G. Fabre
The Big Fat One by Coop, limited edition, signed (I had the paperback, it’s an amazing book, but this hardback limited edition is REALLY nice)
UPDATE:
I recently got a new camera. That means I’ve got to figure out how to USE a real camera, both still and video. That means I’ve got to try and fail and do shit that doesn’t work to find out why, etc. Here’s the result of my first real test of the video, and it’s boring as hell (but the purpose isn’t to entertain anyway).
Rebel Hero – A Brief History of Blasphemers – VIDEO UPDATE
The following was a talk prepared for Skepticamp DC, October 3rd, 2010. I made a few on the spot changes, but the talk presented was largely true to the following text.
This was my first time speaking with a PowerPoint presentation, and I couldn’t stand the limitations in the program or my ability to use it to get the effect I wanted, so I designed everything in Adobe InDesign and then imported them all as flat .jpg images.
I was holding out to publish this until I had audio from the event (why I decided not record it myself is a mystery), but I can always post that later anyway.
Thanks to JD for posting the video online and adding (most) of the slides!
—
Satan as Rebel Hero:
Henry M. Tichenor and the Radical Anti-Religious

My name is Kevin I. Slaughter. I’m the publisher of a book just released on the 122nd Anniversary of the publication of Nietzsche’s “The Anti-Christ”, and what is referred to as International Blasphemy Rights Day, September 30th.. This is the day the cartoons of Mohammad were published in a Dutch newspaper, triggering a wave of violence and mayhem by Muslims who have found their most precious beliefs rocked by… editorial cartoons. The book is titled The Sorceries and Scandals of Satan, and the author was Henry M. Tichenor. ↻
I caution you now, if you’re offended by strong words, take an early break. We will be pushing our time limit here and ask that you reserve any questions or comments for the end. If you have a question that isn’t answered, please feel free to approach either of us during the break.
Now, I would like to present the author of the forward to “The Sorceries and Scandals of Satan”, Robert Merciless, to discuss this unique book and it’s forgotten author.↻
Pt.1 – Henry M. Tichenor: Progressive Era Skeptic and Muckracker
(ROBERT MERCILESS SPEAKS, HIS TALK HAS NOT BEEN TRANSCRIBED)
Pt.2 – A Brief History of Blasphemers
What short memories we humans have, our collective view of the world likes to create visions of the past free from harm or hate, except when explicitly advantageous. Because of this, our newspapers, blogs and television news report stories as if America is a tabula rasa, swept clean every night, to be shocked anew every evening by the days events. When people bemoan the brusqueness of the “New Atheists”, they do so out of some seemingly willfull ignorance of the Old Atheists – and I’m not talking about James Randi, though he is pretty old.
I hope, in this short time to provide a sort of intellectual and poetic framework for understanding that Tichenor and his book are not an anomaly of the early 20th century, but part of a larger current of Western radical philosophers and muckrackers who openly took the fight to Christianity and the superstitions of the day.
Evolution may or may not have planted the seed of faith – or believing in something even contrary to evidence otherwise, but the here is the story of our most obvious target, one you’re probably familiar with, I’m sure, so I won’t belabor the obvious too much. ↻
“In the beginning, there was…”
…well, I’m not sure, and nobody really knows, but everyone has always wanted to know, because that’s a frustrating predicament, and our minds like answers over unknowns, folks decided to make a story up. It’s been done thousands of times, but only occasionally does the story stick, or the people prosper enough. The short and simple explanation was that there was an invisible thing, awesome in power and timeless. Why are we here? ↻
“He did it”.
Because it was people, who made this creation story up, they needed to add to the story how, after everything else, the invisible all powerful uncreated creator then finished the job by making people. In the Judeo-Christian version of the story, the one we’re dealing with here, there were two perfect people.
Now, everything was perfect, just as long as those two folks stayed dumb. They had but one rule to follow – don’t eat the magic fruit.
That magic fruit was from the tree of knowledge – one bite and you’d no longer be the pollyannas and milksops that the all-powerful wanted to perform as sexless and stupid pets in his garden of perfection.
No, the two listened instead to the talking snake, and the talking snake said this: ↻
“For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”
Now this story, as accurate to reality and history as a Garfield strip in the Sunday paper, has permeated Western Civilization for thousands of years- much of it at the end of a sword, or threat of the fire – a central story coming from the religion of Jews to the splinter-sects that cover the globe. From the Mohammedians of the middle east and Africa to Mormons of the middle US, Adam and Eve have varying importance, but are always present.
And of course, they bite, and of course, the invisible baby in the sky threw a tantrum, because man has strayed from his law, his vision of paradise made real…
In short, the philosophy espoused by the invisible god-baby in his official handbook is as follows – and I’m paraphrasing this a bit: ↻
“The natural world is wicked, the flesh is evil, thinking is really bad..”
But this story from the official handbook is old and has been told time and again, and has been changed and misrepresented, and misunderstood. But that it is only a story, and a fantastic one at that, has not stopped those millions and now billions of one-book lovers from using it as an excuse to do what comes naturally to all animals without excuse – to prey upon their fellow man, to help their own above others – and often at the expense of others – all the while congratulating themselves as being righteous and self-less, on the path of goodness and love.
Now this philosophy, to any eyes not distorted by the contradictory clap-trap espoused by the invisible one’s book, is absurd and often gastly. Some of them have had such a strong response they’ve decided that not only are they appalled by such human-hating philosophy, but they are angered. In the pious posturing of the religious potentates, they express scorn and ridicule. In the laws put into the mouth of the all powerful invisible monster, they have proudly snarled: ↻
“I question all things. As I stand before the festering and varnished facades of your haughtiest moral dogmas, I write thereon in letters of blazing scorn: Lo and behold; all this is fraud!”
We’re talking about skepticism born of resentment, a feeling that a confidence game has been perpetrated on humanity, and the skeptic and those he loves have been taken for more than just money – they’ve been taken for their dignity and the very urges that make them human animals.
These are skeptics that not only take a step back to inspect – coldy, sternly, objectively, – but to accuse – boldly, mockingly, and with derision reserved for all those things that are thoroughly hateful to the world and the ego.↻
They are Satan.
They will not wait idly because they’ve been offered some sham paradise once they’ve died, but will reside in the world, eyes open, in search of knowledge. They have seen Satan not as some pure evil as the followers of Christ would paint him, but as something more dashing, challenging, and often… dare I say, romantic. ↻
Certainly, kind hearted humanists and literalistic secularists will bristle at using this mythological figure to oppose another mythological figure, however symbolic it might be used- but for me, for some of histories most creative and challenging artists and thinkers, and certainly for the author of the book that my partner will elucidate on, it is a poetic tribute to the individual, the rebel, the world as it is, man as an animal — life as finite, fallible and real. ↻
These are men who have bitten the fruit, symbolically, they have opened their eyes intellectually, and they have set about learning what god knows, and that is the secrets of the world and life itself.
In 1676, in Surrey, Enlgland yeoman John Taylor offended the ears of the ruling class by speaking aloud the following words in a fit of hedonistic rebellion: ↻
“Christ is a whore-master, and religion is a cheat, and profession is a cloak, and they are both cheats, and all the earth is mine, and I am a king’s son, my father sent me hither, and made me a fisherman to take vipers and I neither fear God, devil, nor man, and I am a younger brother to Christ, an angel of God and no man fears God but an hypocrite, Christ is a bastard, God damn and confound all your Gods, Christ is the whore’s master.”
These blasphemies were punished by a mere hour in the pillory, and Leonard Levy claims that the townsfolk afterword carried Mr. Taylor on their shoulders to the local tavern to celebrate. However joyous the immediate celebrations may have been, the case, known as Rex v. Taylor, have had long reaching implications. Lord Chief Justice Hale’s brief opinion on the case was reported secondhand, but it reads: ↻
“…such kind of wicked blasphemous words were not only an offence to God and religion, but a crime against the laws, State and Government, and therefore punishable in this court. For, to say religion is a cheat, is to dissolve all those obligations whereby the civil societies are preserved, and that Christianity is parcel of the laws of England; and therefore to reproach the Christian religion is to speak in subversion of the law.”
These words by Hale have served as the foundation for dragging blasphemers into court in England and later the United States. Even today, that the phrase “Christianity is parcel of the laws of England” has given the Religious Right precedent to claim, however wrongly, that the Bible is the source of our common law here in the United States.
Most of the morality tales we’ve been told have been tales woven by the advocates of the invisible one in the sky though, stories to scare the children and the elderly. ↻
“An apology for the devil: it must be remembered that we have heard one side of the case. God has written all the books.”
Samuel Butler wasn’t the first to note that it is mainly the Christians who have written slanderous stories of Satan, and wondered who has told the other side of the story. But it was also Twain, in his “Letters From the Earth”, who puts the following words into the mouth of Ol’ Scratch himself: ↻
“(The Bible) is full of interest. It has noble poetry in it; and some clever fables; and some blood-drenched history; and some good morals; and a wealth of obscenity; and upwards of a thousand lies.”
By aligning oneself with the rebel hero, it is a rebuke to those mired in a childish dualism, of good vs. evil, a morality bereft of subtlety or circumstance. If we are to build a philosophy in the devils spirit, would not the enemy of dualism advocate non-dualistic thinking? It isn’t those who are ignorant of a God that demand this dualism, it is the proponents of God: ↻
“For the doers of sin there is another leader; they choose another patron and pattern : ‘He that commits sin is of the Devil.’ …Sin is Satan’s domain, his sphere, his work ; and every sinner is his ally and instrument. The committer of sin makes himself of the Devil’s party”
If the Bible is the document of God’s will, it is the job of any reasonable and sane man to reject not only him, but this disjointed book. It is the joy of an even fewer number of men that they do so by picking the other team, at least symbolically.
We can find New York journalist and author, Benjamin De Casseres, in the very same year of 1904 writing in The Metropolitan an essay on cynicism in the theater titled “The Dramatic Devil’s Advocate”. In it he opines on one of the supposed mortal sins: ↻
“Envy is not moral, but it’s right. The difference between moral and right is the difference between doing what you ought to do and what you want to do. Morality was invented in deference to the policeman. Right is might and springs from nature. Morality is polite. Right is brusque. Morality says by “your leave.” Right says “Up and at you.” A mere difference in breeding. One is urban; the other is not even urbane. Well, envy is right. It gives us pleasure; it is stimulating. It promotes health and induces pleasant dreams. The beggar envies the king, and the king envies the beggar. The wise man envies the fool, and the fool envies the wise man. Envy is the basis of that divine discontent praised by the delegate who walks. Envy is ennui on a strike. To pine for what your neighbor has got shows taste. If his wife is beautiful, it would show a total lack of aesthetic appreciation did we not pine for her. Envy is the sincerest flattery.”
DeCasseres came out swinging even harder 24 years later in the literary journal The American Mercury with a piece entitled “Hymn to Satan”: ↻
“The grandeur of America today is satanic, materialistic, irreligious, unethical… The settlement of America was the birth of a New Reality. It began the dethronement of the mystical God and the rejuvination of the Prince of This World — prince of this world not in the Old World theological sense, but as the spirit of the Will to Material Power.”
As proof of this idea of America as a new Satanic empire, he states: ↻
“Read the preamble. There is not an ounce of imagination, religion, metaphysics or poetry in it… the Constitution came into this world like a prolonged cynicism in the mouth of an atheistic lawyer… The Constitution is the cold sun of Reason.”
The publisher and editor of that magazine, HL Mencken deserves to be mentioned as well. In his memoirs from his youth he posited the following: ↻
“I made up my mind at once that my true and natural allegiance was to the Devil’s party, and it has been my firm belief ever since that all persons who devote themselves to forcing virtue on their fellow men deserve nothing better than kicks in the pants.”
Eventually our journey from the rabble-rousing blasphemer in the 17th century, through novelists and journalists in the 19th and early 20th centuries – entirely skipping the decadent poets and erotic writers, Carducci, Voltaire, Byron, DeSade – bringing us to 1966, when a man took this idea of the earthy and rebellious Satan to another level.
Anton Szandor LaVey shaved his head and founded a religion in the spirit of Twain’s Satan, Tichenor’s Satan, Mencken’s Satan. He founded, of course, the Church of Satan, an anti-religious religion, an anti-church church. Instead of a revelatory text of divine inspiration, two years later he published a collection of writings that celebrated the ego, the flesh and pursuit of knowledge. He promoted the occult in the true sense of the word- the things that are hidden by the platitudes of the politicians, the hypocritical piety of the Christians and social uplifters, and the shallow respectability sought by any means necessary by the booboisie. Those who, in Mencken’s words, devote themselves to forcing virtue on their fellow men.
It was bombastic, sarcastic, and spoke of a hard-nosed philosophy of pragmatism and Epicurean delight mingled with a carnival barkers knack for the dramatic.
He couldn’t have expressed it more clearly in his Satanic Bible: ↻
“All religions of a spiritual nature are inventions of man. He has created an entire system of gods with nothing more than his carnal brain.”
LaVey’s successor, Peter H. Gilmore, has been just as, if not more more explicit and outspoken in his own collection of essays, titled The Satanic Scriptures. A book I was also proud to design and publish in 2007.
Five years after the media frenzy surrounding the founding of an organization dedicated in name to the Lord of this Earth, another figure among the counterculture penned a guidebook for political activists. Saul D. Alinsky released “Rules for Radicals”, subtitled “A Pragmatic Primer for Realistic Radicals”.
Following the dedication page are three quotes, the first by the super-Jew Rabbi Hillel, the second from our Godless founding father Thomas Paine, advocate of reason, and the third was penned by the author himself: ↻
“Lest we forget at least an over-the-shoulder acknowledgment to the very first radical: from all our legends, mythology, and history (and who is to know where mythology leaves off and history begins — or which is which), the first radical known to man who rebelled against the establishment and did it so effectively that he at least won his own kingdom — Lucifer.”
Ol’ Saul has seen quite a resurgence in popularity in the past few years, being linked to the rise of our current President, and the Religious Right has been absolutely delighted to find this homage to the dark one, so they can predictably use it to scare the pious Christians into believing Barack Obama is in league with the Devil… you know, when he’s not bowing to Mecca five times a day.
But lest you think that only poets, novelists, journalists, political activists and cynical outsiders tend to tip the hat to the Dark One’s rule of this world, you may be familiar with the quote from Charles Darwin: ↻
“What a book a devil’s chaplain might write on the clumsy, wasteful, blundering low and horridly cruel works of nature!”
And this, at least from the big picture view, is the advocacy of a genuine Satanic worldview. In a nutshell, there is no god who loves you and looks out for your best interest. There is no heaven or hell waiting for you when you die. The earth doesn’t love you nor does it need your love. At the end of the day, we are left with the greatest offense that one can give to the invisible monster baby…
… that we humans must love ourselves, and when we look outside of ourselves, it is into the eyes of another animal, and not bent over gazing at the feet of wooden idols. ↻
Robert G. Ingersoll Oratory Contest 2010 – This time I won…
Last year I was not alone in thinking I gave one of the better speeches at the contest, but I did not win or even place. I had a great time, and as I said in my talk – it was a pleasure to blaspheme the lord of Christians in our nation’s capitol on such a beautiful day.
This year, the topic I chose was the same, but pulled from a different speech: “How The Gods Grow”. This talk by Ingersoll included a few lines that tied in well with the theme of the Tichenor book I just published through Underworld Amusements – that Satan is a better friend to man than God.
And if (the Bible) is true, ought we not after all to thank the devil? He was the first school master; he was the first to whisper liberty in our ears. He was the author of ambition and progress.
I will update this post once this years videos are made available on YouTube.
I am going to be doing a full podcast on Ingersoll that will include the audio below, so if you listen to the UAVH, you’ve been warned of redundancy.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 7:37 — 7.0MB)
I didn’t even realize a helicopter had flown over until later listening to the audio recording.
One of my favorite comments after the event was as follows:
“You looked like a Hasidic Jew, you sounded like a Baptist Preacher, but then we realized that you were a tattooed atheist! It was so confusing!”
Though I recieved many really wonderful and sincere compliments on my performance. The woman who came in fourth place, when we all lined up to get photos taken, asked me “So are you an actor?”, to which I responded “No, I’m just a ham.” I have done quite a bit of public speaking and performance over the years, and there’s even a photo printed in a school newspaper from when I was in 1st Grade singing a solo in front of the whole school assembled. From there I’ve MC’ed burlesque shows, performed “avant-garde industrial noise perfomance art” that included being entirely covered in blood or silver paint and burnt pages from a bible (sampling two performances), to giving slightly serious talks and even performing a handful of wedding ceremonies (one Satanic and two secular). I’m terribly nervous EVERY time. This time, however, I ended up having to work the HL Mencken Club conference and had little time over the 48 hours prior to the Contest to fret (or memorize). It seemed to work out okay, obviously – I wasn’t nearly stressed as I normally am, and I knew the talk well enough to recite a majority by head (“heart” is just not correct, is it).
The text below is what I prepared for the contest, though I had to skip a few lines near the end because of time limitations:
Today I present a truncated but not Bowdlerized version of Ingersoll’s lecture titled “How the Gods Grow”.Priests have invented a crime called blasphemy.
That crime is the trenches in which ignorance, superstition and hypocrisy have crouched for thousands of years to shoot their poisoned arrows at the pioneers of human thought. Priests tell us that there is a God somewhere in heaven who objects to a human being thinking and expressing his thought. We have been taught that it is dangerous to reason upon these subjects—extremely dangerous—and that of all crimes in the world, the greatest is to deny the existence of that God.
Redden your hands in innocent blood; steal the bread of the orphan, deceive, ruin and desert the beautiful girl who has loved and trusted you, and for all this you may be forgiven; for all this you can have the clear writ of that bankrupt court of the gospel. But deny the existence of one of these gods, and the tearful face of mercy becomes lurid with eternal hate; the gates of heaven are shut against you, and you, with an infinite curse ringing in your ears, commence your wanderings as an immortal vagrant, as a deathless convict, as an eternal outcast. And we have been taught that the infinite has become enraged at the finite simply when the finite said: “I don’t know!”
The other day I read a sermon (you will hardly believe it, but I did); I had nothing else to to. I had read everything in that paper, including the advertisements; so I read the sermon. It was a sermon by Rev. Mr. Moody on prayer, in which he claimed our prayer should be “Thy will be done;” and he seemed to believe that if we prayed that prayer often enough we could induce God to have his own way. He gives an instance of a woman in Illinois who had a sick child, and she prayed that God would not take from her arms that baby. She did not pray “Thy will be done,” but she prayed, according to Mr. Moody, almost a prayer of rebellion, and said: “I cannot give up my baby.” God heard her prayer, and the child got well; and Mr. Moody says when it got well it was an idiot . For fifteen years that woman watched over and took care of that idiotic child; and Mr. Moody says how much better would it have been if she had allowed God to have had his own way. Think of a God who would punish a mother for speaking to Him from an agonizing heart and saying, “I cannot give up my baby,” and making the child an idiot. What would the devil have done under the same circumstances? That is the God we are expected to worship.
They say to me, God has written a book. I am glad he did, and it is by that book that I propose to judge them. I find in that book that it was a crime to eat of the tree of knowledge. I find that the church has always been the enemy of education, and I find that the church still carries the flaming sword of ignorance and bigotry.
And if that story is true, ought we not after all to thank the devil? He was the first school master; he was the first to whisper liberty in our ears. He was the author of ambition and progress. And as for me, give me the storm and tempest of thought and action rather than the dead calm of ignorance and faith. Punish me when and how you will, but first let me eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. And there is one more thing I need to mention. While the world has made gods, it has also made devils; and as a rule the devils have been better friends to man than the gods. It was not a devil that drowned the world; it was not a devil that covered an infinite sea with the corpses of men, women and children. That was the good god. The devil never sent pestilence and famine; the devil never starved women and children; that was the good God.
You hate a God like that. I do; I despise him. And yet little children in Sunday-school are taught that infamous lie. And if you will just read the old testament with the bandage off your eyes and the cloud of fear from your heart, you will come to the conclusion that it was written not only by men, but by barbarians, by savages, and that it is totally unworthy of a civilized age.
In the vast cemetery, we call the past, are most of the religions of men… and there, too, are nearly all their gods.
Slaughter Family Graveyard, Granville County, Oxford, NC
On the drive home from vacation back to the Tarheel State I was able to swing by take a few hours and explore Granville County and do an initial real world genealogical quest. I’ve written here before about my paternal grandmother’s family, but not much about the Slaughters.
The wife and I stopped at the Granville County Historical Society Museum, as it seemed the logical thing to do. I’d found out on the web that the genealogical society had a meeting the night before, but we didn’t want to leave my parents so soon.
The Granville Historical Society Museum is housed in a former jail, and is a fairly modest two-story museum. We signed the guest book and I dropped $2 into the donation jar. It was filled with the things you’d expect, but I walked right by the first hint of the Slaughter name. The wife called me back to a covered display case focusing on Granville residents in World War I. One of the showcase items was a book featuring men who served in the war and it just so happened to be laying open to a page of “S” surnames.
CLIFTON SLAUGHTER
Oxford, N.C.Chief Mechanic, Battery F, 316th Field Artillery, 81st Division. Born July 25, 1888. Son of J.M. Slaughter. Entered service April 1, 1918, at Camp Jackson, S.C. Went overseas August 5, 1918. Promoted to Chief Mechanic November 19, 1918. Honorably discharged June 17, 1919.
I do not have Clifton in my Family Tree yet, and looking over my charts I’m not sure if I have his father J.M. Slaughter. The father might be John Meldrone Slaughter (May 18th, 1858- Oct. 20, 1892, married to Loujinia Ann (Yancey) Slaughter). I’m just guessing at this right now, because the initials and dates match up.
Either way, this was the only thing of value on display. The entire time we walked around, the man behind the desk at the entrance was regaling some older lady with tales. When we circumnavigated back to that spot, I decided to strike up a conversation for some leads. Unfortunately it turned out the man was a real fine talker, but he was half deaf. When I told him I saw a picture of Slaughter kin in a display, he thought I told him that I had kin in Florida. By the time it took me to untangle his misunderstanding, I knew that I’d get very little of from him. I DID find out that the “gift shop” was located in a separate building, so we made our way over there.
In the Harris Exhibit Hall, there was a craft show going on, and we sped past hand crotched doilies, beaded jewelry and someone who made things from driftwood. We eventually made it to the gift shop, where I hit gold.
The Granville County Genealogical Historical Society 1746, Inc. had four volumes of the “Granville County Cemetery Book” on a rack, and I quickly opened each one to the index. In one of the volumes I found reference to the “Goshen Chapel Community Cemetery (Slaughter Cemetery)” and quickly turned to that page. I was exstatic to find not only a family graveyard, but reference to the first Slaughter to come to the US, Jacob Slaughter.
The book was $25, I was on the drive home from a week-long vacation, I only needed the information on two pages of the book. I quickly rationalized that the $2 donation I’d previously made covered me obtaining the information in the book, and quickly snapped away with the camera on my Nexus One.
I ended up missing some of the information, but all that I captured I’ve transcribed at the bottom of this post.
We followed the directions and about half-way there noticed that at the very end of the directions it mentions that you have to walk a mile into the woods on private property, and olso noted that you had to cross a creek. My wife didn’t have the right shoes and I wasn’t sure I was ready to walk a minimum of two miles, but we forged ahead anyway. We got to the spot where it said and I thought I might as well see if I can’t at least drive to find a trail or other opening, or possibly a farmhouse with a property owner to ask permission from.
We drove down Sunset Rd. running a parallel path to what we would be walking. When the odometer had hit the mile point, there was still nothing but dens woods towards the theoretical direction of the gravesite. I figured i’d drive to the end and lake a right, maybe the property owners house was nearby. As we neared Old Roxboro Rd., there was, right on the corner, a small graveyard.
“Huh, look at that.” I wondered, “Could this be the graveyard, and they’ve added new roads? I pulled in front and saw “SLAUGHTER” chiseled into a headstone! We quickly parked in the driveway of a run down house across the street and I ran to the graveyard. Lots of Slaughters in that ground, and the first stone that I saw was JACOB SLAUGHTER.
What I didn’t know, or figure out until we’d left, is that this was a totally separate Slaughter graveyard. We didn’t make it to the Goshen Chapel Community Cemetery, but this one filled my needs and was right on a street corner to boot.
I’d read that the Daughters of the American Revoltion had paid tribute to Jacob by placing a plaque on some road, but I wasn’t sure what road it was, nor where.
I don’t know if this is a second plaque by the DAR, or that same one mentioned in previous research.
Micheal T. Slaughter is a family member who has done extensive genealogical research and writes the following:
Jacob Schlotterer was born on July 25, 1732 in Bodelshausen, Wurttemberg to Jacob Schlotterer and Anna Barbara Albrecht. Bodelshausen is a very small village just a few miles south of Stuttgart, Germany. He had six brothers and sisters, Hanns Bernhardt (born September 1717), Anna Barbara (born December 1718), Waldburga (born November 10, 1720), Anna Maria (born October 24, 1722), Agnes (born June 1725) and Martin (born April 15, 1727). The older Jacob Schlotterer was born October 12, 1693 and was a tailor. Anna Barbara Albrecht was born October 2, 1690. They were married January 28, 1716.
In 1723, Charles Alexander became Duke of Wurttemberg. He had become Catholic and tried to force people to go to the Catholic churches. A Jewish financier loaned him the money to hire soldiers to carry out his wishes. Charles Alexander died in 1737, and in 1738 the financier was tried and hanged. The duke’s son, Charles Eugene became old enough to rule in 1744. He was no better than his father. Many Germans, especially Lutherans, decided to go to America for religious freedom.
In 1749, Jacob Schlotterer and his brother, Martin, left their village to come to America. Some other Schlotterers also left at the same time. They were Jacob (born April 28, 1726, son of Jacob and Ursula), Mattheis (born December 25, 1722, son of Michael and Agnes), and Johann Conradt (born August 23, 1726, son of Matthies and Anna Barbara). They went down the Rhine River to Rotterdam (in what is now the Netherlands) and boarded the ship Chesterfield. The captain was Thomas Coatam. The ship sailed to Cowes, England for supplies and then left for America. The Schlotterers arrived in Philadelphia. On Saturday, September 2, 1749, they went to the courthouse and took an oath of allegiance to George II, King of England. They also signed a passenger list. The Pennsylvania Gazette (a newspaper published by Benjamin Franklin in Philadelphia) on September 7, 1749, recorded the arrival of the Chesterfield. Jacob settled in Germantown, which is now within the city limits of Philadelphia. He then got married and started raising a family. The area was getting crowded, so he and his family moved south, as many other German immigrants were doing.
On November 9, 1757, Jacob Schlotterer bought 640 acres of land on both sides of Shelton Creek in St. John’s Parish, Granville County from John Carteret, Earl of Granville. Jacob lived on the southern half of this one square mile tract until he died in 1824. The Daughters of the American Revolution have erected a marker on Rural Paved Road 1309 near Berea not far from his farm in memory of his service during the Revolutionary War.
Jacob Schlotterer probably married in Pennsylvania, although no record has been found so far. Many marriages from that period of time were not recorded. There is a marriage record in Christ Church in Philadelphia for Jacob Slaughter and Mary Hoffman on March 17, 1761, that may be his second marriage, since there is no proof so far that he actually moved to North Carolina before taking the State Oath on May 22, 1778.
And thanks to Google I was able to find the following in “The State Records of North Carolina, Volume 22″:
There are a number of other Slaughter graves, photos below:
The Woodmen of the World tombstones are odd, as I’d never heard of the group. Looked them up at http://www.woodmen.org/, seems to be a community group for charity and getting a discount on insurance.
So, between now and my next trip I’ll have gathered more information. I plan on taking a whirlwind tour of gravesites and maybe a few living relatives.
I have very few photos of Slaughter prior to my grandfather, so I’ll be keen to track anything down that I can.
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The following transcribed text from ”Granville County Cemetery Book”, but much of this information is also at http://cemeterycensus.com/nc/gran/cem178.htm
Goshen Chapel Community CemeteryTombstones1. Evans, Abraham b. 16 Feb 1829 d. 9 Dec. 1906
2. Evans, Jane b. 1820 d. 1836
3. Thorp, Sarah Age 99 yrs d. 15 Nov. 1920w/o Isaac Thorp
4. Donkin, Howvell b. 14 Jun 1832 d. 31 May 1875s/o Charles & Henrietta Donkin
5. CAS b 186? d. 18 Dec. 1921(Woods Funeral Home marker)
6. Slaughter, S.P. b. 24 May 1871 d. 1 Jan 1911
7. Slaughter, Catherine Age 70 yrs d. 1904Carved Fieldstones
8. ST b. 1832 d. 24 Nov. 1922
9. ECD d. 1873
10. Duncan, C.H. b. 1799 d. 8 Nov. 1871Cut by SM Slaughter
11. Duncan, S.H. d. 27 Aug. 1876
12. Reagan, N.E. d. 22 Sep(?) 1876
13. Beaver, J.W. b. 25 Nov. 1905
14 Ragan, E. d. Jun. 1891
15. MS d. 1882
16. BF & KIM d. 20 Aug 1846
17. DUN d. 1854
18. Slaughter, JacobHis memorial stone is located in the Slaughter Cemetary at the intersection of Allensville and Sunset roads.
19. Slaughter Abraham (missing information, I didn’t get this part in the photo)
20. (missing information, I didn’t get this part in the photo)
21. Slaughter, Infants/o William Albert & Roxie Huff Slaughter
22. Humphries, JasperAccording to Mrs. Patricia Slaughter, Mrs.Lillian Adcock and Mrs. Gertrude Huff Humphries, the cemetary was called Goshen Chapel Community Cemetary and was located on what was called Mill Hill Rd. Blacks are said to be buried there also. - Kitty B. Humphries, May 1980.
Mencken Day – September 11, 2010
Der Tag (Mencken Day), September 11, 2010
Mencken Day 2010 will commence at 10:00 AM on September 11, 2010 at the Enoch Pratt Free Library, 400 Cathedral St, Baltimore,MD. The Mencken Society’s Annual Meeting begins at 10:30 in the Wheeler Auditorium.
The Society’s speakers (in the morning) are Marion Rodgers, who will speak on her recent (hot off the presses) two-volume set of Mencken’s Prejudices, published by the Library of America, and David Donovan of the Enoch Pratt Free Library who has done heroic work in exhuming the entombed collection of Saturday Night Club material held by the Library. He will play selections from a recording of the Concert Artists of Baltimore’s concert, “A Saturday Night Club on Sunday Afternoon”, held April 11, 2010. If you missed the concert, here is your chance to at least get a taste of what was.
The Mencken Memorial speaker (in the afternoon) is Jonathan Yardley, book reviewer for the Washington Post and editor of Mencken’s My Life as Author and Editor(Knopf, 1993).
(Notice, the Mencken Society is different from the HL Mencken Club .)
The Third Annual Meeting of the HL Mencken Club – Oct. 22-23, 2010 – Baltimore, Maryland
The Third Annual Meeting of the HL Mencken Club
Oct. 22-23, 2010
Baltimore, Maryland
Friday, October 22:
7: 30 – 10 PM — Dinner
Paul Gottfried: “How the Left Won the Cold War”
John Derbyshire : “The PC Religion”
Saturday, October 23:
9 – 10 AM – PC Around the World
Grant Havers: “Canada: The Death of the West Up North”
TBA: “Eastern Europe: The Last Stand Against PC”
Ilana Mercer: “South Africa: A Warning”
10: 30 – 11: 30 AM – “Rights” Culture
Paul Gottfried: “The Civil Rights Act: PC’s Holy Shrine”
James Kalb: “PC: The Cultural Antichrist”
Richard Spencer: “‘When Will They Wake Up?”
12 – 2 PM — Lunch
12:45 Speaker: TBA
2:20 – 3 PM – Land of Illusions
Robert Weissberg: “Bad Students / Not Bad Schools”
Steve Sailer: “Can HBD Trump PC?”
Henry Harpending: ”The Evolutionary Left”
3:30 – 4:30 PM – Traditionalism, Subversion, and Counterrevolution
Christopher Kopff: “Back to the Future or Why the Past is More Important Than the Present”
James Russell: “The Churches’ Betrayal of European Christianity”
Tom Piatak: “Christophobia and its Discontents”
5:30 – 6:30 PM Plenary Session — Q&A
7:30 – 8:30 — Dinner
John Derbyshire: Reading from the Mencken Chrestomathy
Peter Brimelow: “Neo-Socialism, or How the Government Can Elect a New People”
10:00 — Hospitality Suite
10:30 — Late-night “Cigar & Bourbon” Session – “What Needs to Be Done?”
Thrift store/flea market passes…




Things I did not buy.
12 little ducklings
I was standing in the middle of the highway, waving my arms at oncoming traffic, thinking “What the fuck am I doing?”
That’s the middle of the story though, but I thought you may stop reading if I started the story where it begins.
On my normal drive to work is sometimes interfered with by police cars and other emergency vehicles, car crashes and just the awful delay of a lot of working people driving in and out of the city en masse. This morning it was a different story.
I just get onto the highway in the left of three lanes and am coming up on a bridge when I see a small bunch of cars and a box truck go all over the place… not as in they’re flying off the road, but they’re distinctly dodging something. I’m doing about 55 or so, and I’m looking at the surrounding environment, and trying to figure out if I get on the bridge whether I’ve just lost any escape route if vehicles start piling up.
They clear up, for the most part, but they’re distinctly dodging something in the road, and a red minivan is stopped completely. I see something in the road, looks like an animal. I look back over at the red van, I’m about 50 feet away and slowing, and I see a man get out of the passenger side and I’m inspecting the scene. I see little shapes moving about under the rear of the van, and realize the lump in the road was a mother duck. The little shapes were ducklings.
I drive about 50 feet past the point where the van is stopped. Cars are going to have to get around it and I don’t want to create and even narrower passage than needed. It’s a little past rush hour and the traffic wasn’t heavy, but what that means is the fewer cars are moving faster.
I can smell the burnt tire in the air as I walked across the left lane to the center, my vision sharper but my mind somehow blurrier, only simple decisions were being made. The Hispanic guy had a black bucket in has hands and was at the back of the van trying to corral the ducklings into it. His back was turned to traffic as he did this and I knew my job was to stand 20 feet or so towards oncoming traffic and try to get people to drive around.
It was a nice day out and I was in shorts and a short sleeve shirt. My pasty white appendages would come in handy, my arms making wide flapping motions. I kept looking over my shoulder at the progress, back at the oncoming traffic. Vehicles were slowing down and driving around, but they still came at a clip that would not allow me to get to work if something went wrong.
“Rapido! Rapido!” The guy called out to the woman behind the wheel of the red van. At the same time he slapped the back of the van and she cautiously nudged the vehicle forward a foot at a time.
I was standing in the middle of the highway, waving my arms at oncoming traffic, thinking “What the fuck am I doing?” The sound of traffic and the eep eep eeps of the ducklings making their way into the slight fog of adrenaline cooked mind and the heavy beating of my heart.
It seemed he’d scooped up about half of the little birds when I next looked over my shoulder, their habit of keeping in a pack formation seemed to help. Then one chick broke away from the half-dozen left running in circles trying to escape the large animal scooping them up. I saw the guy look at the stray and back at the chicks, he couldn’t go after the one and risk not getting the rest. I turned around and darted after the stray before he made it into the far right lane where the cars were diverting around the event. I caught the little guy with unexpected ease, a car zipping past at a distance that certainly seemed a lot closer than I’m comfortable with.
The Hispanic guy held out the black bucket and I lowered the chick in and dropped him on his brothers and sisters. I hear the sound of sirens starting up.
A trooper driving toward us, hitting the siren, “Move your cars!” he repeated over his PA.
“What do we do now?” the other guy said to me.
“I’ll take them,” and he handed me his black bucket filled with eeeping chicks. He ran back to the passenger side door and jumped in.
“Move your cars!” again. I nodded an exaggerated nod and waved with a free hand to the trooper and looked for an opening in the left lane to walk back to my car.
I made it across and was halfway there when “My wife does rescue!” I barely hear… it was repeated and it clicked in. I looked over and on the far bank of the road a man was leaning out of his truck.
The trooper had pulled over near him and repeated his phrase “Move your vehicle!”. I waved to the guy, he pointed ahead and I did the same in acknowledgement that I’d drive over there and make a hand off.
I put the duck bucket in the passenger seat and craned my neck to look out at the highway behind me. There was an opening across all the lanes and I saw the trooper had driven off so I made the dash and pulled up in front of the SUV.
A thin guy, blue overalls with his name “Jim” sewn on a patch over his left chest waked up to me. he had a small grey goatee and he said “My wife does rescue work” he said. I handed him the bucket, said thank you and gave him a pat on the shoulder.
I jogged back to my car and took off for work. My heart was still beating heavy, and after about a minute or two I started to get a little choked up. I suppose if I were a good story teller, I’d have some wort of a take home lesson for you… I don’t. Part of me wishes I could buy a new bucket for the Hispanic guy, and another part would like to know where the duckings are going. Neither will probably come to pass. I don’t want a pat on the back, and I can’t say that I recommend anyone else run out into traffic on a busy highway for the sake of a few birds. I just did what I did and I feel that trying to turn it into a life lesson or parable would be a lie. There was no religion or philosopher who’s lessons I learned that prompted me to do it, it’s just what my damn guts made me do.




















































