Page:The survival of the fittest, or the Philosophy of power (IA cu31924029107907).pdf/11



In this arid wilderness of steel and stone I raise up my voice that you may hear.

To the East and to the West I beckon. To the North and to the South I show a sign—

Proclaiming “Death to the weakling, wealth to the strong.”

Open your eyes that you may hear, O! men of mildewed minds and listen to me ye laborious millions!

For I stand forth to challenge the wisdom of the world; to interrogate the “laws” of man and of “God.”

I request reasons for your Golden Rule and ask the why and wherefore of your Ten Commands.

Before none of your printed idols do I bend in acquiescence and he who saith “thou shalt” to me is my mortal foe.

I demand proof over all things, and accept (with reservations) even that which is true.

I dip my forefinger in the watery blood of your impotent mob-redeemer (your Divine Democrat—your Hebrew Madman) and write over his thorn-torn brow “The true prince of Evil—the king of the Slaves!”

Death! I say death to every lie!

No hoary falsehood shall be a truth to me—no cult or dogma shall encramp my pen.

I break away from all conventions. Alone, untrammelled! I raise up in stern invasion the standard of Strong.

I gaze into the glassy eye of your fearsome Jehovah and pluck him by the beard—I uplift a broad-axe and split open his worm-eaten skull.

Death! I say death to every lie!

I blast out the ghastly contents of philosophic whited sepulchres and laugh with sardonic wrath.

Death! I say death to every lie!