Archive for September, 2009



The only effective way to fight censorship is to read what they would have you not read, watch what they would rather you did not see, say what they do not want said, and ram what they oppose down their worthless throats.

Expose them in the media and online. Expose their employers. Boycott businesses based in the towns that they live in. Let their neighbors know the kind of scum who live among them.

Those who seek to control what we can see, say or hear, deserve no mercy, no compassion. Treat them as the vile beasts that they are.


For want of a nail…


The Soviets lost the Cold War in the skies over Korea and they lost it because of a bad procurement decision.

In the Korean War, the Mig 15 was the hottest thing in the air. Our F86 could barely keep up with it. It could out run, out climb and out turn the F86 but in any single plane combat, it was the Mig that was likely to end up crashed. Why? Because it was undergunned.

The Mig 15 was designed and armed as a bomber killer. It had two 22mm cannon and a 40mm cannon. One hit from the 40 would bring down anything in the air. But getting that hit was almost impossible for a simple reason. The speed of the aircraft in the jet age became such that with only those guns firing at WW2 rates, there was so much space in between rounds that it was possible to have a dead aim and the American fighter would just fly between the shells. The US aircraft, with their six .50s, put out a lot more metal and thus had a much better chance of making a kill, even with an inferior aircraft.

But how did that win the Cold War?

Unable to win in Korea, the Soviets concluded that they had no chance to win in Europe, especially in the face of nuclear weapons, simply because in that pre-missle period of the early 1950s, they could not stop the NATO bombers from blowing their concentrations to hell. They were forced to play chess, to maneuver around the periphery. And that cost money as well seriously detracting from the fighting ability of their own troops. By the time they invaded Afghanistan, the Soviet army could not have survived in the field against the NATO forces even with their overwhelming ground numbers.

The Soviet Empire became an empty husk, with lots of ships they could not use, lots of men they could not use, and an economy that could no longer support them. And it all was because they undergunned the Mig 15.

“For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of the shoe the horse was lost.
For want of the horse the rider was lost.
For want of the rider the battle was lost.
For want of the battle the kingdom was lost.
All for the want of a horseman’s nail.”



invisible destroyer

Fifty years ago today it began. Take a look at the picture, the helmet, the covered holster barely just to the side of the title, and ball-knobbed lever activating the nuclear explosion. It was my entire visual pantheon as a child all in one place. I came home to see the comic book waiting for me and I could not wait to recreate that control panel in its glorious simplicity.

On that day, not thinking of the words, I truly “resolved to play the villain.”

It was a visual that stayed with me, an idea that stayed with me. The Psionic Amplifying Helmet with its Roman crest which so puzzled Carl Weschke, the psionics and psychotronics, the tepaphone, all have their roots in this image, seen for the first time this day in 1959. When I was a young magician, people were puzzled as to why, instead of trying to look like Al Crowley in drag, my magickal costume had a crested helmet and a covered holster. It goes back to this image.

And when I came up with the idea, oh so radical at the time, of sending forth the power of a ritual by the simple process of throwing a switch and turning on a light, it goes back to that image, the lever being pulled, the bomb going off.

It began on that day. It began with this picture.

It began with the Invisible Destroyer.

The Psychic Society


Something that I’ve always puzzled about is that since the great occult boom of the mid to late 1960s, there have been tens of millions of people doing psychic stuff, some on a regular basis, some occasionally, but all doing something. And the question that comes to mind is what effect that has had on society.

And the answer may be found not in macro events, there are not that many of us who actively work in that arena, but rather in the attitude that folks have about their lives in general. People who do psychic stuff tend to feel more in charge of their lives and are just a bit more confident. After all, they can make things happen, even if it is only getting a parking space or make the traffic cop get killed by a cement truck.

The only problem is that there really is no effective way to measure this. Micro effects are just that, micro. But I think it is safe to say that in a cumulative way, the popular use of psychic ability has changed society. We just do not know how much it has.

Massed armor is dead


Fear the Reaper.

Here’s the scenario, a battlefield somewhere and one side has massed over 2,000 amored fighting vehicles. And out of the sky come a thousand armored drones. In the space of minutes, there are 2,000 smoldering wrecks and maybe a dozen shot-down drones. The drone is small, hard to hit and can fire out of range of the anti-aircraft missles carried by the troops on the ground. The tanks are big, lumbering targets. And the drones carry no men. If one is destroyed, it is no great loss. The pilot simply moves to another one.

The drone will change the face of warfare in ways that we cannot yet imagine. Right now it takes time to train the pilots, but there is no real need for that to be the case in the future and the time will come when old people in nursing homes will sit at consoles and go to war, young people will come home from school and go to war, blowing the hell out of people in far-off lands from the safety of their living rooms.

A war that is totally bloodless for one side, total slaughter for the other. It is the way war was meant to be.

The influence of naval firepower upon history


It was a small thing. The King wanted a divorce but the Pope would not give it to him. So good King Henry said, “Fine, I’m taking over!” and as a result of that England acquired a navy, a very big and powerful navy that grew with each successive and successful war.

So now we fast forward and in the year that Galileo died, Sir Isaac Newton was born, and by the time he was through it no longer mattered what any Pope thought about anything.

But the reason for that is not because Sir Isaac was a great scientist and mathematician. He was protected by the guns of the British Navy and it did not matter what the Pope or his various choir-boy-passing bishops thought about it because there was not a God damned thing they could do to stop him.

And out of Sir Isaac and the scientific climate he created the Enlightenment was born, to the lasting horror of the psycho-loons who still object to it.

But it does not matter what they think. They don’t have the guns to do anything about it either.



I always teach my students never to apologize for anything unless a close friend or a loved one is involved. An apology implies that the opinions of the offended are somehow of value and they are not. On the contrary, the act of apology to appease total strangers is a very real sign of weakness and once you do it your life is never your own again, your words are never your own again. You end up going through life looking over your shoulder wondering who’s precious sensitivities may be disturbed. You cannot live that way and be human. So I teach my students that every morning they should get up, and visualize themselves as a tank crushing its way through life and if someone gets run over in the process, well you just hose off the treads and keep going.

I’ve always liked a paraphrase of the dying words of Mad Anthony Wayne which says, “Offended are they? Well, God damn them! Let them be offended!” And if I had my way every writer in the world would have those words painted on the wall above their computers. The proper attitude is, “I said it. I meant it. If you don’t like it, go to hell.”

To demand an apology is to invite the other person to tell you to go hell. To demand a public apology is to invite nuclear war. Once people realize that, they make no such demands. Sure, there are going to be folks who will not like you, but so what? Not everyone is going to like you. But when you look at yourself in the mirror, you will like you and that is what matters.

Black Books


When I was young there still existed the concept of “Black Books,” books of such an evil reputation that merely possessing them meant that one was somehow in danger of corruption. And I am not talking about porn here. I am talking about books with ideas so dangerous that people genuinely feared them.

Well, of course, with reputations like that hordes of young folks could not wait to get their hands on them, The Picture of Dorian Grey, anything by Nietzshe or De Sade, and, above all others by such heights as to make it untouchable, The Prince by Uncle Niccolo Machiavelli. I got my copy of The Prince when I was fourteeen, simply because of its evil reputation and frankly I did not understand a word of it. At the time I did not know that the principal character in it was actually a relative of mine no less and it would not have mattered, I still would not have understood a word of it!

It was not until I grew somewhat older and learned something of Renaissance history that his words and advice made sense, to be both the lion and the fox, that it is better to be feared than to be loved, these are sound principles for living. And I learned something else, though I did not realize it until I became a writer myself.

The initial runs of the Black Books were very small, insanely tiny by our standards, One of Nietzsche’s classic works sold less than ninety copies when it was first published. It was their reputation that ultimately sold them, made them something that no literate individual would consider his library even near complete without. But they have stood up to the test of time and have outlived those who sought to suppress them and the ideas they contained.

And that is something that all who write material that others disapprove of should remember. Our ideas are, in the end, not sustained and spread by those who love us, but rather by those who hate us. So let us echo the words of the wise Roman who said, “Oderant dum metuant.” Let them hate us as long as they fear us.

911 part two


The aftermath became too absurd to take seriously. Two weeks later we were at the Slosh and they were running that telethon for, whatever they were running it for, and our group had a great time making fun of the badly dressed country and western singers, some of whom made BDSM folk look like fashion plates by comparison. Of course the denizens of one of the other munch groups took things more seriously and when I ran into one of their leaders at a dungeon wearing more flags than a used car lot, I simply shook my head and asked him if it would not have been simpler to just have the damned thing tattooed on his forehead.

Of course we were all disgusted with Georgie Porgie for not just nuking the whole middle east and having done with it and one of our people came wearing a tee shirt with his face on it and the sentence, “Stop him from praying and persuade him to shoot!” And then we all sang a little dittie to the tune of Sink the Bismarck which had the refrain, “But Bush is doing nothing, he’s just praying to the lord. Well he’d better kill somebody ’cause we’re getting really bored.”

And then when they started those silly alerts every other week in designer terrorist colors, well, it was impossible not to just laugh at the whole thing. I remember saying to a neighbor, “When it hits Candy Apple Red–Sell.”

But what really steamed me more than anything else was that I could no longer put “International Terrorist” on my resume. I mean, I had a great schtick going and those idiots with dishtowels on their heads ruined it! And for that I will never forgive them.



So how does a person into psionics and radionics observe this Day of Wrath, during which we make sacrifices to the Gods of Vengeance and call down the power of the heavens on the godless musselmans?

Well, there are the traditional methods, printing up pages of the Koran and using them to shine your shoes, or putting them on the doormat and inviting your neighbors to share your respect for the sons of the prophet. And of course one must eat pork.

But with radionics we can do something else.

What I do every year on this day is very simple. I set up a radionic box as follows. I put a picture of a hog on the transmittal plate, set the dials to the rate for the essence of hogness, that which makes the pig unclean in certain parts of the world, and then put a photo of the Kaaba in Mecca on the output plate and let it run.

Let it be unto them as it was unto the Land of Midian in Numbers 31.