Might is Right.pdf

“Must we then speak of this subject also; and shall we write

concerning things that are not to be told, and shall we publish

things not to be divulged, and secrets not to be spoken aloud?”

....... Julian the Emperor

“The law immutable, indestructible, eternal; not like those of

to-day and yesterday, but made ere time began.”

..................... Sophocles

A man’s opportunities are never exhausted so

long as other men (who are not his friends) possess

millions of acres and thousands of tons of gold.

The guarded treasure halls and iron-clad temples

of modern kings and presidents, high priests and

millionaires, are positively the richest the world has ever

known.

Bulging are they with the vast hoards of silver

and diamonds and gold.

Here, then, is opportunity on a colossal scale.

Here is the goal of the Caesars, Nebuchadnezzars and

Napoleons in the days that are coming.

All is ready and prepared for them, even as in

olden times.Caesar carried off the treasurers of Egypt,

Greece, Gaul and Rome. Napoleon looted the money

vaults of Venice, Vienna, Madrid, Berlin and Moscow.

London only escaped him.

Nebuchadnezzar plundered the Temple of Zion,

where the Jews kept all their deposits and drank his beer

and wine out of Jehovah’s pots of gold.

Napoleon, Caesar, Nebuchadnezzar! There were

three great men, were they not? And in this their

greatness consisted–they seized their opportunities.

The natural world is a world of war; the natural man is a

warrior; the natural law is tooth and claw. All else is

error. A condition of combat everywhere exists. We are

born into a perpetual conflict. It is our inheritance, even

as it was the heritage of previous generations. This

“condition of combat” may be disguised with the holy

phrases of St. Francis, or the soft deceitful doctrines of a

Kropotkin or Tolstoi, but it cannot be eventually evaded

by any human being or any tribe of human beings. It is

there and it stays there , and each man (whether he will or

not) has to reckon with it. It rules all things; it governs

all things; it reigns over all things and it decides all who

imagine policemanized populations, internationally

regulated transquillity, and State organized industrialism

so joyful, blessed and divine.

Virtue is rewarded in this world, remember. Natural law

makes no false judgments. Its decisions are true and just,

even when dreadful. The victor gets the gold and the land

every time. He, also, gets the fairest maidens, the glory

tributes. And – why should it be otherwise? Why should

the delights of life go to failures and cowards? Why

should the spoils of battle belong to the unwarlike? That

would be insanity, utterly unnatural and immoral.

Might is Right

F o r w a r d

Anton Szandor LaVey

I was walking down McAllister Street in San Francisco.

As I passed MacDonald’s Bookstore I glanced into the window,

as bookstores have a way of distracting me. This was in 1957.

M a c d o n a l d ’ s was one of those legendary, musty

bookstores with dirty windows and books crazily piled

everywhere and an old proprietor who must have been around

since the 1906 earthquake. Leaning against some other books in

the window was a stark yellow paperback titled “Might is

Right”. Other than the solid black lettering, the cover bore a

black scimitar in one corner and a black glove in the other.

Intrigued, I entered the store and as usual, old man

MacDonald was behind the counter. I asked to see the book. A s

he grunted to remove the book from the window, he commented

that he had just placed it there that very morning and I was the

first one to ask about it. As I handled the book, it became

apparent that it was fairly old, but in remarkably fine condition,

considering the cheapness of the glued and stapled binding and

pulp paper.

The copyright date was 1910, the printer was W. J .

Robbins & Co., Ltd. in London, and the author was one “Ragnar

Redbeard, L.L.D., of the University of C.”, an obvious

pseudonym. I skiffled through a few pages and my eyes became

transfixed. What I saw should not have been in print. It was

more than inflammatory. It was sheer blasphemy. Obviously

MacDonald hadn’t even glanced within its pages, but figured the

odd cover and title would remove it from the window. As I

turned the pages, more blasphemy met my eyes. Crazy as it was,

I found myself charged at the words. People just didn’t write that

w a y.

My mind made up, and knowing the place had a

reputation for cheaply purchased “discoveries”, I said “I’ll take

it. How much?” Mac lifted back the cover where he had lightly

p e n c i l e d “$.50”. The smallest bill I had was a single dollar, so I

tendered it and he counted out my change with professionalism

befitting a ninety dollar transaction.

With my new artifact safely ensconced in a small, flat,

tan paper bag, I abandoned my earlier plans and went straight

home to delve into this outrageous tome. The rest is history.

I began to include sentiments from the book into my

v o c a b u l a r y. I’d pass around the book to prove the reality of my

words. Among my many writer friends, hacks like Robert

Barbour Johnson, Clark Ashton Smith, Fritz Leiber, Jr., A n t h o n y

B o u c h e r , etc., none had ever seen the likes of Might is Right .

Several years of this “show and tell” went by. Nothing. No hints

of a clue as to who the author might have been, nor any

recollection of anyone having seen or heard of the book before.

I had found a N e c r o n o m i c o n .

N a t u r a l l y, every avenue was exhausted to track down

the publisher, to no avail. Then, after spreading the gospel of

Might is Right for over a decade, came the official commission

to write a “Satanic Bible”. My agent and publisher wanted the

material I had already printed in tract form, with additional stuff ,

to make up the “Bible” as quickly as possible. I was not a writer.

Some will say I’m still not. But I had to draw from my

inspirations, what had to be said.

Now you must know that every single occult scholar I

knew warned me against publishing the Enochian Calls, saying

that NOBODY touched upon them and it meant doom to even

mention them. OK. That was enough for me. In they went. So

it was with selected passages from Might is Right, except I got

no warnings because nobody’d even heard of the damned book,

especially head-in- the clouds occultniks. It had inspired me

though, and that was enough. The copyright, even with renewal,

would have recently expired so it suddenly became part of T h e

Satanic Bible , with myself and my publisher holding, in context,

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