Fenris Wolf #5 – Coming Soon

Very pleased that a transcript of my lecture “The Great Satan” will appear in the following journal:

The Fenris Wolf, Issue no. 5
Edited by Carl Abrahamsson
350 pages. 148 x 210 mm, sewn paperback.
Cover art by Fredrik Söderberg. Limited edition of 666 hand numbered copies.

Contains material by Jason Louv, Patrick Lundborg, Gary Lachman, Timothy O’Neill, Dianus del Bosco Sacro, David Griffin, Philip Farber, Aki Cederberg, Renata Wieczorek, Genesis Breyer P-Orridge, Ezra Pound, Gary Dickinson, Robert Podgurski, Stephen Ellis, Mel Lyman, Hiram Corso, Frater Nagasiva, Peter Grey, Vera Mladenovska Nikolich, Kevin I. Slaughter, Lionel Snell, Phanes Apollonius, Lana Krieg and Carl Abrahamsson.

On topics as diverse as the psychedelic William Shakespeare, secret societies, Rosicrucians, Illuminati, neurological interpretations of magic, the esoteric gardens of Quinta da Regaleira, Italian witchcraft, Pierre Molinier, Derek Jarman, the I Ching, Geomancy, the logic of evil and vice versa, Rémy de Gourmont, Aleister Crowley, Liber AL vel Legis, Macedonian vampires, Satanism, Goethe’s Faust, and the creation of a “mega Golem” within the context of developing a contemporary magical terminology.

Non-Americans order through: http://edda.se/
American customers order from: http://www.jdholmes.com/shop/jdholmes/C00013.html

Writers and thinkers important to Satanism

At one point in the past 50 years, the Church of Satan released a suggested reading list. On the third page it included a list of names where many of their works are important, rather than just one title by a particular author.

Friedrich Nietzsche
Mark Twain 
George Bernard Shaw
Ayn Rand
Thomas Paine
Robert Ingersoll
Herbert Spencer
Sigmund Freud
Wilhelm Reich
H.G. Wells
Aldous Huxley
H. P. Lovecraft
George Orwell
Auguste Compte
Charles Darwin
Niccolo Machiavelli

What followed that was a series of quotes:

“The Church has the right to require that the faithful shall not publish books which she has not previously officially examined, and to prohibit their publication by anybody whatsoever for just cause. The provisions of this title also apply to daily publications, periodicals, and other published writings of whatever kind, unless the contrary appear.”
– Code of Canon Laws: Canon 1384.

“The Church doesn’t believe in book-burning, but it believes in restricting the use of dangerous books among those whose minds are unprepared for them.”
– John of Salisbury (called Parvus)
Policraticus, 7, 10, 133.

“I know many books which have bored their readers, but I know of none which has done real evil.”
– Voltaire: Philosophical Dictionary, 1764.

“The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame.”
– Oscar Wilde

“In the long run of history, the censor and the inquisitor have always lost. The only sure weapon against bad ideas is better ideas. The source of better ideas is wisdom. The surest path to wisdom is a liberal education.”
– A. Whitney Griswold: Essays on Education.

Quotes from the Eagle and the Serpent

Time cannot bend the line which Truth bath writ.
The passion for destruction is a creative passion.—Bakounine.

In Hobbes’ system morality is the rationalization of egoism.
Justice is a ruse of the weak to defend themselves.—Nietzsche.

We can only be valued as we make ourselves valuable.—Emerson.

The indisputableness of eternal injustice is a part of Nietzsche’s system.
One must read all moralists with an eye to their motives.—Nietzsche.

He who tells the truth is turned out of nine cities.– Turkish Proverb.

Justice is an “equilibrium of might,” non-existent for the absolutely powerless.—Nietzsche.

Government has nothing to give me except that which it takes from me.—A. Bellegarigue.

Nietzsche defined sympathy to be the expression of a force seeking vent, or feebleness seeking support.
Conscience and remorse are the results of our blindness to the real origin of the sentiments called moral —Nietzsche.

Are not all tragedies due to the fact that people do not die at the right time?
—John Erwin McCall.

He’s a slave who cannot be in the right without two or three—just by “his own self.”
—John Erwin McCall.

Ascetic Ideals.—Ideals should always be fictitious. When they become real they cease to be ideal. All extremes are wrong.—John Erwin McCall.

Journalism is the art of selling to other people their own prejudices and false opinions at the highest possible price.—John Erwin McCall.

Benevolence is as purely selfish as greed. No one would do a benevolent action if he thought it would entail remorse.—Dod Grile. (Ambrose Bierce)

Origin of Optimism.—The typical optimist sits in the British Museum, which was built by money stolen from the Spanish, and which the Spanish had stolen from the Aztecs, and piously exclaims, “A good to one is a good to all.”—John Erwin McCall.

Egoism and Altruism. Definitions and Illustrations from “Liberty:”

Egoism and Altruism.
Definitions and Illustrations from ” Liberty:”

  Altruists build in the air.  I have unbounded faith in what is called human selfishness. I know no other foundation to build (upon. When we cease quarrelling with this indestructible instinct of self-preservation and learn to use it as one of the greatest forces of nature, it will be found to work beneficently for all mankind, and “the stone which has been rejected by the builders wilt become the chief corner-stone.”—Mrs. E. D. Linton.

The discussion of Egoism v. Altruism in Liberty has been very interesting. To me there is no such thing as altruism—that is, the doing of anything wholly for the good of others. We do things for self-satisfaction. I wonder if there are any altruists who would go to hell (presuming there be a hell) in order that their neighbours should go to heaven (presuming there be a heaven)? There is no hope of reward in hell, and a true altruist must expect no reward for his acts. One who would undergo all the tortures of hell so that his neighbours could enjoy all the pleasures of heaven would be an altruist indeed.—J. A. Labadie.

Egoism is not merely an idea. It is a fact—the force of a man untrammelled by superstition. It may be more or less generous or ungenerous; thus he may be called selfish or unselfish in the common speech. He may be more or less impulsive, more or less deliberate and reflecting. He may so feel and act as to be called very dutiful, the Egoist relation to all objects is conditioned quite differently from that of the mentally unfree .man. If he cares for others it is not because he is taught that it is his “duty “—a teaching which puts a fetter in place of attraction ; but it is because he is built that way, and this he knows.— Tak Kak.

George Eliot on the Moral Littleness of Non-Egoists. In proportion as morality is einotional—i.e., has affinity with art—it will exhibit itself in direct sympathetic feeling and action; and not as the recognition of a rule. Love does not say, ” I ought to love ” ; it loves. Pity does not say, ” It is right to be pitiful ” ; it pities. Justice does not say, ” I am bound to be just ” ; it feels justly. It is only where moral emotion is comparatively weak that the contemplation of a tale or theory mingles with its action, and in accordance with this we think experience, both in literature and- life, has shown that the minds which are preeminently didactic, which insist on a ” lesson,” and despise everything that will convey a moral, are deficient in sympathetic emotion.

“Duty” never would be missed. The genius performs his benefits for mankind
because he is obliged to do so and cannot do otherwise. It is an instinct organically inherent in him which he is obeying. He would suffer if he did not obey its impulse. That the .average masses will benefit by it does not decide the matter for him. Men of genius must find their sole reward in the fact that thinking, acting, originating, they live out their higher qualities and thus become conscious of their originality, to the accompaniment of powerful sensations’ of pleasure. There is no other satisfaction for the most sublime genius, as well as the lowest living being swimming in its nourishing fluid, than the sensation, as intensive as possible, of its own Ego.—Nordan.

I use the term Egoism, like Stirner for acts of normal self-possession and self-expression, excluding blind crazes, fanaticism, the influence of fixed ideas, hypnotism dominating the subject and rendering him more of an automaton than an individual, although he goes through the motions. Rewards and punishments, promised and threatened, appeal to the Egoism of ignorant believers, but there is also an anti-individualistic craze or fascination in religion, and love and business, when the idea rides the man. In the last analysis it is a question of sanity or insanity. Egoism is sanity. So we use the term, and as Stirner’s book, “Der Einzige and sein Eigenthum,” has long been before the world, his admirers have a good possessory title to this term.—Tak Kak.



A woman forgives everything, but the fact that you do not covet her.—A . de Mussel.

Cleopatra is a thorough woman ; she loves and deceives at the same time.

A woman with whom one discusses love is always in expectation of something. —Poincelot.

There is no torture, that a woman would not endure to enhance her beauty.

Women, cats and birds are the creatures that waste the most time on their toilets.
—Ch. Nodier.

A man must be a fool, who does not succeed in making a woman believe that which flatters her.—Balzac.

A woman is necessarily an evil and he is a lucky man who catches her in a mild form.—Menander.
The music at a marriage procession always reminds me of the music of soldiers entering battle.—Heine.

I do not mean to say that women have no character. Not at all ; for they have a new one every day.—Heine.

Mohammed excluded woman from Paradise.. Did he suppose that Paradise would no longer be Paradise if every man were again to meet his wife there ?—Heine.

If one wishes to get an idea of the amount of self-love which women possess in their youth, let him judge of it by the amount which remains to them after they are past the age of pleasing.—Chamfort.

Have you ever known a’ woman who seeing a male friend conversing with another woman would suppose that she was an unsympathetic companion ? You see by this the opinion they have of each other. Draw your own conclusions.—Chamfort.

Love, said Epicurus, never benefitted any one; nay, it is much if it did no harm. In his opinion it was a sort of fever destructive to the body; in fine, a short epilepsy. He looked upon it as a shortener of the days of the most vigorous; and judged that the gout, the weakness of the eyes, the trembling of the nerves, were all caused by the commerce with women. His advice was to eat moderately, use much exercise, and to have nothing to do with women.

THE DEATH PENALTY – Ambrose Bierce


Ambrose Bierce

“Down with the gallows!” is a cry not unfamiliar in America. There is always a movement afoot to make odious the just principle; of “a life for a life”—to represent it as “a relic of barbarism,” “a usurpation of the divine authority,” and the rest of it. The law making murder punishable by death is as purely a measure of self-defense as is the display of a pistol to one diligently endeavoring to kill without provocation. It is in precisely the same sense an admonition, a warning to abstain from crime. Society says by that law: “If you kill one of us you die,” just as by display of the pistol the individual whose life is attacked says: “Desist or be shot.” To be effective the warning in either case must be more than an idle threat. Even the most unearthly reasoner among the anti-hanging unfortunates would hardly expect to frighten away an assassin who knew the pistol to be unloaded. Of course these queer illogicians can not be made to understand that their position commits them to absolute non-resistance to any kind of aggression; and that is fortunate for the rest of us, for if as Christians they frankly and consistently took that ground we should be under the miserable necessity of respecting them.

We have good reason to hold that the horrible prevalence of murder in this country is due to the fact that we do not execute our laws—that the death penalty is threatened but not inflicted—that the pistol is not loaded. In civilized countries where there is enough respect for the laws to administer them, there is enough to obey them. While man still has as much of the ancestral brute as his skin can hold without cracking we shall have thieves and demagogues and anarchists and assassins and persons with a private system of lexicography who define murder as disease and hanging as murder, but in all this welter of crime and stupidity are areas where human life is comparatively secure against the human hand. It is at least a significant coincidence that in these the death penalty for murder is fairly well enforced by judges who do not derive any part of their authority from those for whose restraint and punishment they hold it. Against the life of one guiltless person the lives of ten thousand murderers count for nothing; their hanging is a public good, without reference to the crimes that disclose their deserts. If we could discover them by other signs than their bloody deeds they should be hanged anyhow. Unfortunately we must have a death as evidence. The scientist who will tell us how to recognize the potential assassin, and persuade us to kill him, will be the greatest benefactor of his century.

What would these enemies of the gibbet have—these lineal descendants of the drunken mobs that hooted the hangman at Tyburn Tree; this progeny of criminals, which has so defiled with the mud of its animosity the noble office of public, executioner that even “in this enlightened age” he shirks his high duty, entrusting it to a hidden or unnamed subordinate? If murder is unjust of what importance is it whether its punishment by death be just or not?—nobody needs to incur it. Men are not drafted for the death penalty; they volunteer. “Then it is not deterrent,” mutters the gentleman whose rude forefather hooted the hangman. Well, as to that, the law which is to accomplish more than a part of its purpose must be awaited with great patience. Every murder proves that hanging is not altogether deterrent; every hanging, that it is somewhat deterrent—it deters the person hanged. A man’s first murder is his crime, his second is ours.

The socialists, it seems, believe with Alphonse Karr, in the expediency of abolishing the death penalty; but apparently they do not hold, with him, that the assassins should begin. They want the state to begin, believing that the magnanimous example will effect a change of heart in those about to murder. This, I take it, is the meaning of their assertion that death penalties have not the deterring influence that imprisonment for life carries. In this they obviously err: death deters at least the person who suffers it—he commits no more murder; whereas the assassin who is imprisoned for life and immune from further punishment may with impunity kill his keeper or whomsoever he may be able to get at. Even as matters now are, incessant vigilance is required to prevent convicts in prison from murdering their attendants and one another. How would it be if the “life-termer” were assured against any additional inconvenience for braining a guard occasionally, or strangling a chaplain now and then? A penitentiary may be described as a place of punishment and reward; and under the system proposed, the difference in desirableness between a sentence and an appointment would be virtually effaced. To overcome this objection a life sentence would have to mean solitary confinement, and that means insanity. Is that what these gentlemen propose to substitute for death?

The death penalty, say these amiables and futilitarians, creates blood-thirstiness in the unthinking masses and defeats its own ends—is itself a cause of murder, not a check. These gentlemen are themselves of “the unthinking masses”—they do not know how to think. Let them try to trace and lucidly expound the chain of motives lying between the knowledge that a murderer has been hanged and the wish to commit a murder. How, precisely, does the one beget the other? By what unearthly process of reasoning does a man turning away from the gallows persuade himself that it is expedient to incur the danger of hanging? Let us have pointed out to us the several steps in that remarkable mental progress. Obviously, the thing is absurd; one might as reasonably say that contemplation of a pitted face will make a man wish to go and catch smallpox, or the spectacle of an amputated limb on the scrap-heap of a hospital tempt him to cut off his arm or renounce his leg.

“An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” say the opponents of the death penalty, “is not justice; it is revenge and unworthy of a Christian civilization.” It is exact justice: nobody can think of anything more accurately just than such punishments would be, whatever the motive in awarding them. Unfortunately such a system is not practicable, but he who denies its justice must deny also the justice of a bushel of corn for a bushel of corn, a dollar for a dollar, service for service. We can not undertake by such clumsy means as laws and courts to do to the criminal exactly what he has done to his victim, but to demand a life for a life is simple, practicable, expedient and (therefore) right.

“Taking the life of a murderer does not restore the life he took, therefore it is a most illogical punishment. Two wrongs do not make a right.”

Here’s richness! Hanging an assassin is illogical because it does not restore the life of his victim; incarceration is logical; therefore, incarceration does—quod, erat demonstrandum.

Two wrongs certainly do not make a right, but the veritable thing in dispute is whether taking the life of a life-taker is a wrong. So naked and unashamed an example of petitio principii would disgrace a debater in a pinafore. And these wonder-mongers have the effrontery to babble of “logic”! Why, if one of them were to meet a syllogism in a lonely road he would run away in a hundred and fifty directions as hard as ever he could hoof it. One is almost ashamed to dispute with such intellectual cloutlings.

Whatever an individual may rightly do to protect himself society may rightly do to protect him, for he is a part of itself. If he may rightly take life in defending himself society may rightly take life in defending him. If society may rightly take life in defending him it may rightly threaten to take it. Having rightly and mercifully threatened to take it, it not only rightly may take it, but expediently must.

On Gardening…

There is no holy book, no evil book. Only the stupid and superstitious are afraid of reading words for themselves. Only totalitarians from either the left or the right are afraid of others reading words.

I dislike writing disclaimers, but there it is.

I’ve trimmed this one section down to the portion that I liked. Like moving the Brussels sprouts off to the side of the plate so you can more enjoy the steak and mash.

From “Book of a Mujahiddeen
by Shamil Basaev,
section 55: “STUPIDITY”

“Once a Mujahid starts working on his own garden, he spots his neighbor watching him work and getting anxious about giving him an advice on how to plant a deed, how to dig up a thought and how to irrigate victory.
If a Mujahid listens to these advices, he will eventually end up doing someone else’s job and the garden that he is working on right now will become the embodiment of his neighbor’s idea.
A Mujahid knows: a fool, who is too preoccupied with somebody else’s garden, will not be bothered with his own.
A Mujahid prefers to work on his garden on his own.”