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The very phrase that He uses to sum-up and memorize His patent Cure-all, was undoubtedly stolen (directly or indirectly) from Plato, the Rig Veda, or Confucius. The Golden Rule is not only a snare and a tangle, but it also is — a literary piracy.

‘He raised the dead,’ you indignantly protest: and even supposing that he did, wherein is the positive advantage? What is gained by restoring vitality to the decomposing corpse of an animal that may be so easily duplicated — an animal that is a positive nuisance, numerically. What is the “good” of breathing the ‘breath of life’ into an odorous winding-sheet-full of maggots and mouldy bones? Are there not plenty of animalcula on earth, without dragging them out of tombs? (Especially are there not plenty of leprous Asiatics?) Death and destruction are necessary to the health of this world and therefore as natural, and lovable, as birth and life. Only priests and born cowards moan and weep over dying. Brave men face it with approving nonchalance.

“Come lovely and soothing Death, undulate around the world. Serenely Arriving! Arriving! In the day, in the night; to all, to each. Sooner or later, delicate Death.”[4]

He fed the hungry — but to what end, I say? Why should a famishing multitude be fed by a god? And that too, in a land said to be flowing with milk and honey! Would not such a mob be far better dead? Would not Napoleon with his cosmic ‘whiff of grape-shot’ be just the right man for such an occasion? From the harmonious nature of things, it is clear that men were intended to feed themselves by their own personal exertions or perish like dogs. He therefore who ‘feeds the hungry’ is really encouraging poltroonery (which includeth all other crimes) for men ‘who quietly starve within reach of abounding plenty are — all poltroons.

‘He clothed the naked,’ you shriek; and why it may be asked should ‘the naked’ be clothed — they being able bodied? What right have they to broadcloth and fine linen? If men possess not enough sense to clothe themselves (in a literal Weaving Mill of inexhaustible looms) why should a ‘God’ — the son of a ghost, come down from Cloudland (via a Jewess maiden’s womb) to robe such groveling, miserable hounds in swaddling cloths, made of cotton or wool? ‘Clothing the naked’ is purely — a business affair.

Here, it may be suggested en-passant — is the wearing of garments, in itself, a natural and necessary condition of adult existence? It certainly does not render the ‘human form divine’ more healthy or more beautiful to gaze upon (although it may prevent Tenderlings from perishing of cold). Was it really intended that the man-animal only, should wrap itself up, from birth to death in layer over layer of disease-breeding rags? Was there not a secret vital strength in the wind and rain and storms that ‘whirled around our forefathers’ giant limbs and shaggy brows? All ethnic legends tell us that our first parents were most elegantly attired in glorious sunshine and gaudy fresh air. Who ever saw a Cherubim painted in pointed shoes, pantaloons, cuffs, collars and overcoat; or a smirking angel in bloomers, steel-ribbed corsets and a delicate little ‘O! dear me! how awfully awful!’ style? Clothing serves most effectively to hide the abominable physical deformity of modern men and women, just as superficial educationalisms serve to hide their dwarfed minds. If they were to perambulate around in the nude, even the street curs would bark at them out of sheer terror. Indeed, they would be more hideous to the eye than the stuffed scarecrow that adorns a relative’s harrowed field: and at which our old dog “Danger” generally barks himself into hysterics over, whenever he gets off the chain.

What a horrible sight a crowd of free and independent electors would be, all sitting in solemn conclave, sucking their thumbs, absorbing political opiates and divine euthanasia? Just think of it! (Even Carlyle the dyspeptic would faint at the sight.) The very conception of such a saddening horror makes one ill. It would be as if they all had just emerged from a tomb — a tomb of wool and cotton and leather.

Physical distortion and mental malformation, are the direct result of two thousand years of bad-breeding: that is to say, of Mongrelism, of Democracy, of Equality, of Moody-and-Sankeyism. Christian-ism, originating in the despairful and fallacious philosophy of a Crucified Wanderer (suffering from acute morbus sacer) is now developed into an organized and world-wide conspiracy of Clericals, Politicals and Decadents directed en-masse; with Jesuitic cunning against all the primitive and Heroic Virtues.

Our clean-skinned ‘heathenish’ ancestors with all their vital forces unimpaired, were really the nobler type of animal. We on the other hand, with our corrupt, irresolute, civilized hearts, our trembling nerves, our fragile anæmic constitutions, are actually the lower, the viler type — notwithstanding the baseless optimism that courtly rhymers drivel into their “Heirs of all the ages,” etc., etc.

No People can long retain hardihood and independence, whose minds become submissive to a False Ideal.

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Blessed are the Strong for they shall possess the earth — Cursed are the weak for they shall inherit the yoke. Blessed are the Powerful for they shall be reverenced among men — Cursed are the Feeble for they shall be blotted out.

Blessed are the Bold for they shall be masters of the world — Cursed are the Humble for they shall be trodden under hoofs. Blessed are the Victorious for victory is the basis of Right — Cursed are the vanquished for they shall be vassals for ever.

Blessed are the battle-blooded, Beauty shall smile upon them — Cursed are the Poor-in-Spirit, they shall be spat upon. Blessed are the Audacious for they have imbibed true wisdom — Cursed are the Obedient for they shall breed Creeplings.

Blessed are the iron-handed, the unfit shall flee before them — Cursed are the haters of battle, subjugation is their portion. Blessed are the Death-defiant, their days shall be long in the land — Cursed are the Feeble-brained, for they shall perish amidst plenty.

Blessed are the destroyers of False-hope, they are true Messiahs — Cursed are the God-adorers, they shall be as shorn sheep. Blessed are the Valiant for they shall obtain great treasure — Cursed are the believers in Good and Evil for they are frightened by shadows.

Blessed are they who believe in Nothing — never shall it terrorize their minds — Cursed are the ‘lambs of God,’ they shall be bled ‘whiter than snow’. Blessed is the man who hath powerful enemies, they shall make him a hero — Cursed is he who “doeth good” unto others, he shall be despised.

Blessed is the man whose foot is swift to serve a friend, he is a friend indeed — Cursed are the organizers of Charities, they are propagators of plagues. Blessed are the Wise and Brave for in the Struggle they shall win — Cursed are the Unfit for they shall be righteously exterminated.

Blessed are the sires of Noble maidens, they are the salt of the earth — Cursed the mothers of strumous Tenderlings for they shall be shamed. Blessed are the mighty-minded for they shall ride the whirl-winds — Cursed are they who teach Lies for Truth, and Truth for Lies, for they are — abomination.

Blessed are the unmerciful, their posterity shall own the world — Cursed are the Pitiful for they shall receive no pity. Blessed are the destroyers of Idols, for they shall be feared by tyrants — Cursed are the famous Wiselings, their seed shall perish off the earth. Thrice cursed are the Vile for they shall serve and suffer.

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Walt Whitman's "Ode to Death."