The Gospel According to Malfew Seklew | Sirfessor Wilkesbarre & Trevor Blake

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List Price: $15.95 6" x 9" | 280 pages Underworld Amusements ISBN-13: 978-0988553682 ISBN-10: 0988553686
There is only one Malfew Seklew and Sirfessor Wilkesbarre is His Prophet.
The polemical writings by and about Sirfessor Wilkesbarre: a Chicago Radical, Social Aristocrat and Egoist Superman of the early 20th Century. Companion of Ragnar Redbeard, frequenter of the Dil Pickle Club, and a man too magnificent for one moniker. Fred Wilkes (1864 - 1930) traversed in the mind through Socialism into a Sardonic Nietzschean Egoism as he made his way in the flesh from England to Chicago and New York. Founder of the Society of Social Aristocrats, selling Salvation to All and One through pamphlets, radio presentations and soap-box lectures on Love, Laughter, Wit and Wisdom. With an introduction by Trevor Blake, author of Confessions of a Failed Egoist, gathering never before published biographical details of Wilkesbarre and the radical milieu he circulated in. Fortified by fancies from his time as Associate Editor of the egoist journal The Eagle and The Serpent, pamphlets co-written with the infamous author of Might Is Right, and selections from Hobohemian Chicago newspaper The Day Book. In addition, the editors have produced over 250 elucidating footnotes and gathered a number of illustrations judiciously arranged throughout the book. As Seklew himself says: “Are you a Simpoleon or a Supercrat? A Peter-pantheist or a Personality? Are you a Bromide or a Sulphide? A nonentity or a reality? Are you an unripe ego or an unfinished organism with underdone understanding and hard boiled beliefs, pingpong principles and petrified prejudices? Do you amble through the atmosphere with the courage of a carrot, the consciousness of a cabbage, the turpitude of a turnip, the pep of a prune, the punch of a parsnip and the psychology of a Sundowner in the swamps of Hobohemia, or do you dash through space with the courage of a Conqueror and the wisdom of a Will-to-Power Man? If not, massage your Mentoids, and be saved—from yourself at your worst.”

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