“Might is Right” by Magnar Redbeard

What is death that it should make cowards of us all? What is life that it should be valued so highly? There are worse things than death and among them is a life of dishonor

Talk about an overhyped, disappointing work. This “forbidden” book has been lauded by so many on the far/alt-Right as this almost religious text (which is ironic, given the content) it’s hilarious. and sad.  What’s funny though is that, when it’s not being totally redundant, this can be a pretty fun book.  It’s full of superlative and memorable lines such as:

I; even I, am my own redeemer

Ultimately, this is kind of like a harlequin novel for Nordic Manly Men who need their beards stroked.

“Forbidden love on a longboat: A novel of romance”

My version began with a healthy introduction by some casual, unabashed white supremacists (not just nationalists, who I more or less agree with), one of which is currently in prison for what he calls “alleged civil rights violations”. Riiiiiight.  As decoration stand various images of broad-shouldered Norsemen with battle-axes to visually reinforce the point that, well, might is right! (only if you are white though?) If you didn’t get that point yet. By the title. or the text. Or the hundreds of times he repeats the truism.

The publishers take a lot of pride in the fact that the original version, in all its resplendent, ungrammatical, misspelled glory, has been untouched by the (probably Jewish?) hands of editors.  Cultural Marxist editors. Weakling, Christian editors. The superior Nordic editors of course see the value in a text riddled with comical levels of ungrammaticality and typos of what was clearly a hobbled-together, rushed draft composed of other, more rushed drafts from a variety of authors in a variety of languages.  This does have its own charm, to a degree, but there is certainly something to be said of the power editing. and of brevity, which this tome lacks completely.

More than anything, the text is more akin to a hurried, rushed blog post by a highly erudite, if not irate, commentator on an Alt-Right, Libertarian blog or Stormfront thread than a masterful tome by the alleged Nietzsche (or Jack London? Probably neither).

I’ll admit, at around halfway I was just done with the book. At that point he (they?) had incessantly repeated two pretty simple concepts: Might is Right. Law / Religion / Politics is slavery.  Over and over and over, without much substantial evidence to back them up for they are to be taken as truisms, self-explanatory concepts understand a priori, as if merely reading it repeatedly will somehow break the hold religion has on us.  It was working in a strange, roundabout way, as I suddenly felt the urge to take my finely honed battle-axe from under my pillow (if you don’t have one, you are a pussy / fag / weakling amirite?) to smash my kindle! The shackles of slavery, however, restrained me, and I continued to struggle through this tome until I could no more.

I would really love to discuss the ideas in this pamphlet (or zine entry, really) in a serious manner, but they are portrayed so comically as to come off as satirical in nature.  It reads like comedy.  I’ve found myself rolling my eyes one too many times for me to want to dissect, whether in agreement or not, anything herein. In fact, some believe this to be a work of satire, which I can absolutely understand, seeing how the content is so poorly substantiated.  Take this quote, for example.

If criminals are criminals, by descent or by birth, is it not equally probably that slaves are slaves by the facts of their breed and ancestry? Does it not also follow that heroes and strong, powerful, resolute, personalities, have derived their solid stamina from their forefathers? Indeed all history and all genealogies prove that this is a mathematical fact. Great men are ever the descendants of mighty warriors and conquerors, that is to say, of mighty animals

Wait, what? For such an erudite, educated person the author takes himself to be, this statement is so comically false one can’t even begin to posit a counterargument.  Aren’t there hundreds of examples, even in fiction (inspired by real events) of Kings rising from poverty? Of Heirs being physical eunuchs in comparison to their Father-King? Of Cowardice rising from Bravery, or Bravery coming from a ‘lineage’ of cravens?

This isn’t to say kin don’t share traits; Strength will oft beget strength, like the corn-fed clans of Kansas (from which half my Nordic lineage stems), but not always.  Or Woody Allen types begetting, well, eccentric Jewish artists (look at Lena Dunham, well, don’t, she’s ugly, but glance at her). Circumstances do have an influence, no genetic-determinst can deny that. Or, even minor changes passed between kin can result in great contrasts between Father and Son, Mother and Daughter.  Again, how many Great Kings had utter failures or inepts as sons? Were Schwarzenegger’s own family Olympic body-builders, or did his father want him to become a police officer like himself? (hint: he did).

Sometimes he advocates individual agency as the greatest power, yet here and elsewhere he advocates totally genetic determinism! Which one is it? Does Might (agency? Will zur Macht?) make Right, or does lineage? Does training? Learning? Mastery?  Isn’t he more mighty who overcomes his obstacles to greatness through dedication and training than he who was simply ‘born with it’?

Ultimately it’s these sorts of contradictions that absolutely riddle this book as to make any thing of value it might have to say be utterly worthless. He’s his own unreliable narrator of his own schizophrenic ramblings.  There are real gems in this work, like this on the role of man and “the state” (Satan):

The man who prays to be ‘protected’ by politicians, guarded by armed Janissaries, saved by idolatrous priests, and redeemed by State Regimentation is indeed a miserable sinner -a vile, despicable, un-manly wretch

Here’s a hauntingly beautiful passage on “Vae Victis”

She [nature] loves the writhing of sword blades-the rendering of tradition, the crunching of bones and the flap of shattered shot-torn banners, streaming out savagely (in the day, in the night), over the battle-weary, the mangled dying and the swollen dead.  Christs may come and Christs may go, but Caesar lives forever.

Coupled with total garbage:

What power on earth can permanently keep the Negro on a parity with the Anglo-Saxon?

It’s one thing to be prideful of your heritage and accomplishments as a people (indeed, black Americans are told to be) but to disparage hundreds of ethnic groups, each distinct from the other as Greeks are from the Irish, due to a common skin color, in comparison to a particular subculture of the ‘white’ race (though he often disparaging Irish, Russians and Italians, now considered white?) is disingenous at best.  The blatant, contradictory nature of his statements (working for yourself is best! but calloused hands are for calloused minds… so get some slaves!) are just too much sometimes.

In sum, this is indeed an important, amoral, irreverent iconoclastic work worth at least a perusal of some of the more poignant sections. Once you “get the gist” in the first few pages, however, he simply just repeats it in admittedly sometimes badass, but ultimately redundant, ways.  I feel that Jack Donovan’s piece on the matter is far more cogent and respectable, and most importantly, its curt message is contained within a blog post. Whodathunk?

Hate for hate

and ruth for ruth,

Eye for eye

and tooth for tooth.

Scorn for scorn

and smile for smile,

Love for love

and guile for guile

War for war

and woe for woe,

blood for blood

and blow for blow


Blood-Brotherhood and other rites of Male Alliance


Written by a tag team of the “manosphere” mainstay Jack Donovan and otherwise unknown (afaik) Nathan F. Miller, Blood-Brotherhood is a fascinating work on the various ways men have created bonds between each other, either as individuals or between entire families and tribes.  The authors hoped to not only provide historically verifiable (through colonial observations or primary sources) examples of this very specific, yet universal, type of ritus, but to have these examples serve as inspiration for new, organic forms of blood-brotherhood between the growing cadre of the nascent “Menaissance”: Alt-RIght, Tribalists, Redpill, MGTOW and other “reactionary” Neo-Patriarchs united in “positive masculinity” and their disdain for Nth wave feminism.

The structure of the book is as follows:

Regional / Cultural Group blood-rites (Africa, East Asia, etc.)

These sections were the meat of the book, quite literally listing out, one by one, the mundane, arcane or sometimes simply strange rituals that have existed in a given geographic region.  From nicks on the finger to sharing blood draughts from multiple men, the main purpose was clear; Instill loyalty and dedication to a degree that often exceeds that of so called “milk” brothers or other family.  The concept of choosing family was fundamental to blood-brotherhood, and its significance was such that initiates often could not intermarry between their otherwise unrelated families.  On the other end of the spectrum, blood-brothers could be obliged to share wives between each other!

Consequences to breaking blood-rites were almost always associated with curses, death and far worse things, and it’s for this reason that rites often included consumption of certain fruits or berries, said to burst within the body upon oathbreaking. This was a world when a man’s word was his bond, so to take the implicit trustworthiness of fellow men to the next level was indeed something to be respected.

Pertinent Anecdotes / Stories involving Blood-Brotherhood

Bridging the gap between shifts in geographic area were stories where blood-brotherhood form at least an important, if not primary role in the story.  Gaelic, Germanic and African tales are the most memorable to my mind.

My personal favorite was a tale from Africa known as “The Eagle and the Lizard”.  This fable tells of a deep friendship between an Eagle and a Lizard cemented by a blood-rite.  Part of their agreement, as with many historical agreements, was a vow to share and help your blood-brother regardless of the request or the circumstances (even if the brother in need was completely in the wrong, as in cases of murder).  This ultimately led to the Lizard demanding the feathers of the Eagle to help fletch bows with, despite how much this would hurt the Eagle and his family.  The Eagle, however, obliges, and relinquishes his own feathers and is weakened by this for some time until they grew anew.  The Lizard is pleased, of course, until the Eagle comes to demand something of his own: Leather for drums, of which Lizard skin makes the best.  The Lizard dies, a victim of his own blood-brotherhood!

The authors don’t miss out on the most American of blood-brotherhoods, by the way. Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer’s famous pledge (that they do eventually break) to ‘stay mum’ on a murder they saw takes on a new meaning within the context of this book.

Tattoos as expression of Masculinity

After a tour around the world of cuts, nicks and blood-draughts, Donovan (its clear by the huge shift in tone) takes over a sort of hybrid afterword where he discusses tattoos as manly expression throughout history and through the modern day.  I follow his instagram which is comprised mostly, well, of what seems to be his art! So he has a greater degree of credos here than many would on the subject.

Why Blood-Brotherhood at all?

Luckily this book doesn’t assume that we, as readers, feel a gut, primal understanding of the concept a priori without a more explicit explanation of why this practice is so universal in the first place. Donovan explains the root of this manly universal quite simply; Men cannot honorably display signs of affection towards other men the same way men are expected, or encouraged, to show affection towards women.  Groveling, compromising and overall completely shaming oneself to attain or prove ones affection towards the fairer sex would be seen as completely submissive and, most importantly, dishonorable (a key word in Menaissance texts, as we will see).

The moment where a man puts aside his dignity and throws himself at the foot of his beloved is the climax of countless tales of romantic love, new and old. But to put aside honor for a woman fits into the scheme of things precisely because she is a woman… Because men and women are essentially different, wanting different things and operating under a different set of social rules and expectations, there is no real conflict of status or honor within the context of male/female courtship. -Donovan, Jack. Miller, Nathan F. Blood-Blood Brotherhood and Other Rites of Male Alliance.

With men, however, there is a conflict of honor when it comes to showing or displaying affection (whether homoerotic or simply, and far more often, as friend to friend) to another man.  The entire concept feels different, from body language to actual language used.  Both men want to maintain their status as respectable, non-vulnerable men while still showing affection, or even love.  What, then, do all men across color, creed and place have in common? The brutal, dangerous task of fighting, hunting, defending. That is, spilling blood.  

What is important, ultimately, in the blood-rites we see regardless of the context, is the sacred nature the exchange or spilling of blood takes between the initiates. Much more meaningful than a handshake, feast or written document, we see blood as being holy and requiring a personal, literal sacrifice to the other party.  A man willing to shed his own blood for a brother in the blood-rite shows, literally and symbolically, a willingness to shed blood on behalf of a blood-brother in disputes, conflict or the hunt.

In a world where meaningful male bonds are seemingly non-existent outside of gangs, motorcycle clubs and the military, this book is a great primer as to something uniquely virile.  Women may, as an exception, create such sisterhoods, but not nearly to the extent as Man has, nor is their drive to camaraderie, to brotherhood, to cooperative action the same at all.  Ultimately, however, this book should serve as a practical guide and inspiration to action, and not merely to intellectual porn to mull over.

We should attempt to recreate, at least in spirit if not through literal blood-rites, brotherly bonds through ritual and mutual trial.

-Vae Victis-