For those of us who steadfastly refuse to follow the beard trend


The Gentleman’s Art of Wet Shaving.

For those of us who steadfastly refuse to follow the beard trend (like it or not, beards are trendy — thanks hipster scum), shaving is an everyday routine that, at times, feels like a chore rather than a pleasurable experience. It doesn’t need to be this way. With a small investment of $40.00 – $50.00 you can turn your daily shave into a pleasurable ritual that takes you back to a simpler time, when gentlemen prided themselves on a clean, close shave. If this interests you, throw your disposable multi-blade razor and chemical filled shaving cream in the trash and embrace the gentleman’s art of wet shaving.

Wet shaving can best be described as “the kind of shaving your grandfather did.” It involves the use of a safety razor, a shaving brush, shaving soap, and a handful of other supplies.


The safety razor is the most important part of your shaving arsenal. Sadly when most think of them, the first thing that comes to mind is a bloody, nick filled face. I assure you this preconception is not true, and with proper technique using a safety razor is just as safe as shaving with the razor you are using now.

Safety razors are beautiful works of art crafted from a wide variety of metals and plastics, and choosing the one that’s right for you is simply a matter of personal choice. If you’re new to wet shaving, a great razor to begin with is the Edwin Jagger DE89811BL, it’s a gorgeous chrome plated razor that is weighty, easy to maneuver and not terribly aggressive.

Safety razors use a double-edged blade that fits into a receiver. The receiver allows only a small amount of the blade to protrude through it. That’s where the “safety” part of the razor comes into play. The blades cost about 10 cents a piece — far cheaper than those multi blade cartridges that you pay big bucks for, and range in sharpness from mild to deadly. For beginners, the Derby Extra is an excellent choice. For the more adventurous, the Feather is considered by many to be the king of the hill in sharpness.

Once you’ve chosen your razor and blades, it’s time to find the right brush and soap. Ideally, a badger hair shaving brush should be chosen because it balances stiffness and softness perfectly. A good brush is critical in helping you build a nice lather as well as raising your whiskers for a close shave, so choose wisely.

Choosing a shaving soap is a matter of personal choice, and there are literally hundreds of them in the market. Even the cheapest ones will be better than the chemically laced mass market shaving cream you’re using now. Most shaving soaps come in a tin, but if the one you choose doesn’t, you’ll have to purchase a shaving mug. I use a wide variety of soaps, depending on my mood in the morning. If you want an invigorating menthol zing to your face, try Proraso Green Label, if you want a spicy and warm feeling, try The Blades Grim “Smolder” (my personal favorite).


Once you have your weapons together, it’s time for your first wet shave. Remember, if you savor the experience and embrace the ritual, you’ll never go back to modern day shaving again.

Step one: Wash your face with warm water — this helps open your pores, soften your whiskers and prepare your face for shaving. If you really want to go old school, put a warm damp towel on your face for a few minutes.

Step two: Wet your shaving brush thoroughly with warm water, shake it out and begin building lather with your soap. Using a light touch, go in a clockwise direction with the brush until it is coated with some lather. If you don’t have enough lather, wet the brush a little more. Once you have a nice lather, take the brush cover the entire shaving area of your face by using a circular motion. This will help increase lather as well as lift your whiskers. Let the lather sit on your face for a minute before proceeding to step three.

Step Three: Now it’s time to shave. You’ll want to hold the razor against your face at a 30-degree angle from the floor. This angle should just allow the edge of the blade to touch your skin.

When applying pressure, forget everything you know about using a disposable razor. Most of these use sub-standard blades that are grouped together, and you’re probably used to pushing against your skin. With wet shaving, little or no pressure is needed to achieve optimal results; you simply hold the razor gently against your skin and let the weight of the razor do the work for you.

In short, slow strokes, do a single pass with the grain of your hair growth. If you’re able to, pull the area you are shaving taught in order to get a truly close shave. Once you complete this first pass, re-lather with your brush and do a second pass against the grain. Patience is the key — take your time, and as stated before, enjoy the experience.

Step Four: Once you’re done, rinse your face with cold water to cool and tighten your skin. Don’t’ forget to clean your shaving gear thoroughly as well. If you like, follow up with a nice aftershave (not a cologne). If you want to stay in old school mode, try Pinaud Clubman. It smells absolutely hideous out of the bottle, but once it mixes it with your skin’s oils, you’ll instantly smell like a real man, not an effeminate metrosexual — think Patton, Eisenhower and Humprey Bogart here….you get the picture. As an added bonus, the Pinaud also cools your skin nicely.

The whole wet shaving process takes about 15 minutes, but in the end you’ll be richly rewarded with a superior shave, great skin and a new relaxing ritual that will certainly make your day a little bit brighter.

Once you’ve mastered the art of using a safety razor, you can really step up your game and try a straight razor. That’s where the serious fun begins.

American Snuff Company – Cotton Boll Twist


Many (but not all) pipe smokers claim that they smoke for the flavor, not the nicotine. This is on par with wine drinkers talking about the “aura” and “palate” of a wine as they approach the end of the second bottle and begin slurring their words. For most of us, the pipe is a complete experience: taste, smell, feel, activity and yes, nicotine.

Why? Because Nicotine is a god among stimulants, providing cognitive benefits as well as relaxation. Because it helps us see our dead ancestors. Because it is fun. Pick one or more of the above, but be honest in recognizing that for many of us, nicotine is part of the trip. Accordingly, many smokers seek out a nicotine “holy grail”: the most intense nicotine blast that one can experience in a pipe.

A number of candidates arise, most from the Gawith Hoggarth stable, but rumored to be beyond even that in intensity are twists. These are nearly raw tobacco, taken from curing and wrapped in a distinctive shape, then allowed to age so the sugars in the leaf ferment and that dead vegetation flavor leaves. Twists are normally designed to be chewed and then placed against the cheek where nicotine absorption occurs through the membrane, but since the dawn of recorded history on the topic, smokers have been known to hack off bits of them and smoke them for a cosmic Nicotine experience.

You can get twists a number of places. Here’s a semi-comprehensive list:

These contenders for the holy grail of mind-blowing Nicotine trips are generally not all that expensive, in keeping with their functional origins in agricultural work. They do not have fancy flavors or extensive steps taken to reduce their rougher edges. But they do offer a staggering dose of the magic lady.

In my search for pipe smoking’s holy grail, I acquired an American Snuff Company Cotton Boll Twist, rumored to be one of the stronger twists. It arrived in a plastic bag, looking very much like a roughly dried leaf. Upon slitting the bag and removing it, I noticed a scent of old leaf, perhaps with undertones of oil, and felt how dry the twist was in my hands. But I noticed the hands were shaking.

Pipe smokers are famous for their lore, and while much of it is not strictly speaking factually true, almost all of it has metaphorical meaning, like religion or Texans telling tales where the fish keeps getting bigger or the boar gets meaner. It was entirely possible that this thing would kill me. They would find me, tense body twisted into an impossible pose in my comfortable share, surrounded by ashes flung aside during my final convulsions. The M.E. would shake his head sadly and proclaim death by misadventure, and I would be buried in a simple grave with the marker reading only HERE LIES AN IDIOT. This fear gripped me as I turned the twist over in my hands.

Being a somewhat intrepid sort, at least with my own life, I put it on the cutting block and hacked off an inch, then sliced it vertically and again, horizontally, to create small cubes. Because the leaf was dry and unpressed, these quickly expanded to tiny flakes — approximating the size of rough cut tobacco — of dry, slightly greasy vegetation. Figuring that here went nothing, I loaded up my favorite author style pipe and set match to tobacco, then waited for death to swoop down from the clouds and seize me in a spasm of final agonies.

Nothing of the sort happened.

First, I recoiled from the flavor. Almost no tobacco is actually “raw,” since you sort of have to dump something on it to help with the aging process and rehydrate it after drying. But this is as raw as it gets and it has a flavor that resembles, well, dried leaves. It burns quickly too, making me rehydrate the second batch. But for that first bowl, I lit, tamped, gagged and then lit again. After a few more puffs — slightly sour like the first notes of a newly-lit cigar — I found the flavor to improve. The nutty broad flavor of Burley replaced the raw taste of flame. Then a slight sweetness, very light, drifted to the surface. The more it burned, the better it tasted, although an oily undertone like old butter from an all-night restaurant persisted, and sometimes there was the slightly bitter “green” taste of minimally cured plant matter. But by the end of the first third of the bowl, I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

And then… it hit.

Like a serpentine form uncoiling in darkness, Nicotine wound its way through the smoke into my brain. My jaw dropped and cold sweat broke out on my forehead. I could see my fingers twitching like insects in the spastic repetition of instinctual motions. Sounds receded, and I could no longer speak. I could feel every hair like a finely-tuned instrument, detect even the slightest breeze brushing over my skin. “Unholy mackerel,” I thought, “This may indeed be the end.”

But I survived. And I hung on, chopping up another half-inch and adding the collected leaf-bits to a small bowl over which I draped a hot damp towel. I waited. And then I reloaded, lit, tamped and blazed. The same bitterness struck, the oily smoke curling around my head, but then the rancid butter and cut grass flavors faded and the nuttiness returned. The faint sweetness emerged as well, as did the Samurai warrior that is Nicotine. But this time, I rode the dragon. I felt myself pass into the shadow realms, and like the mythical Jenkem users of central Africa, I spoke to my dead ancestors. I enjoyed every minute of it.

In terms of raw strength, this tobacco is not more excessive than Samuel Gawith 1792 Flake or the infamous Gawith Hoggarth “Happy” Brown Bogie. It has some strength on those, but does not leap to another cosmic level. However, like a tropical storm it attacks quickly and holds you with an iron grip. In this case, it is pleasurable. Subsequent bowls revealed that this tobacco mixes extremely well, and even a pinch of an English mixture mutes its flavor extremes. Its heavy Burley takes the flavor of whatever it is mixed with, making this an even more enjoyable experience. But that power — the raw, infernal power — remains.

The stronger ropes from UK tobacco makers, or even some of the home-grown Perique mixes that the Americans concoct, most likely match this in strength. Part of its reputation comes from the fact that as a dry tobacco, it burns quickly and thus injects more smoke into the mouth (this is the same reason people like flake tobacco; the compressed flake burns a lot more leaf at any given instant than loose tobacco blends). But part of it is a sensible recognition of the dark forces at work within this demon of a twist. I paired it with Incantation Onward to Golgotha in recognition of its infernal strength, and sipped green tea to keep me anchored in the world of reality. This may not be the holy grail of Nicotine abuse, but it is one of them. And I am glad I found it.

Anne Rice on censorship


Widely-read horror/occult author Anne Rice had the following to say about censorship and people who try to bully some opinions out of the marketplace:

Signing off with thanks to all who have participated in our discussions of fiction writing today. I want to leave you with this thought: I think we are facing a new era of censorship, in the name of political correctness. There are forces at work in the book world that want to control fiction writing in terms of who “has a right” to write about what. Some even advocate the out and out censorship of older works using words we now deem wholly unacceptable. Some are critical of novels involving rape. Some argue that white novelists have no right to write about people of color; and Christians should not write novels involving Jews or topics involving Jews. I think all this is dangerous. I think we have to stand up for the freedom of fiction writers to write what they want to write, no matter how offensive it might be to some one else. We must stand up for fiction as a place where transgressive behavior and ideas can be explored. We must stand up for freedom in the arts. I think we have to be willing to stand up for the despised. It is always a matter of personal choice whether one buys or reads a book. No one can make you do it. But internet campaigns to destroy authors accused of inappropriate subject matter or attitudes are dangerous to us all. That’s my take on it. Ignore what you find offensive. Or talk about it in a substantive way. But don’t set out to censor it, or destroy the career of the offending author.

We see this play out time and again in metal: a group of SJWs is offended by something, or pretends to be offended so they can feel powerful by destroying it, and they act to make sure that it is removed before anyone can even consider it. That is counterproductive to discussing or even understanding it, but the SJW goal is not to increase understanding, but to limit it so that they can control it.

Joseph Stalin, pipe aficionado


Lots of good people smoke pipes. Some bad ones — can people even be categorized as “good” and “bad”? — do as well. One of the more interesting cases concerns Joseph Stalin, Communist dictator most famous for his brutal methods. But, as I am prone to remind people, his methods worked and he brought the Soviet Union to its greatest strength out of all of its dictators.

He smoked in a somewhat unusual way:

“I have my first cigarette or pipe, depending on how I feel; sometimes I crumble a Herzegovina flor cigarette into a pipe, sometimes I smoke it straight. The first smoke of the day is important for setting your mood. If a pipe draws hard or leaves bitter juices in the bowl, if a cigarette is harsh and sears your windpipe, it can get you started wrong. To some this might see egotistical absorption in my own minutiae, which it would be if those minutiae did not affect so many other people. After a good smoke, if I am brought a list of Enemies of the People scheduled for execution and I spot a familiar name, I might easily write, in my own hand, that the person in question is to be sent to the camps, whereas if a bad pipe has soured my mood, I’ll sign the list without even looking.” – The Autobiography of Stalin by Richard Lourie

Although I enjoy a good pipe, it has never affected me this way. Then again, you are unlikely to find me signing death lists whether I have the power or not. Even more, the category “Enemies of the People” makes my skin crawl and reminds me how the Democrats and their loony wives treated metalheads back in the 1980s. Here are some of Stalin’s pipes, some rumored to be gifts from fellow strongman Winston Churchill:


Another source gives us more insight on the ironic truth — much like how SJWs hide their privileged origins — behind Stalin’s choice of tobacco:

So what was ‘Herzegovina Flor’? The smokes were produced at the Moscow ‘Java’ factory, which was originally established by Samuel Gabai, from Kharkov, in the 19th century. Gabai’s idea was to produce a tobacco like no other, so he found a tobacco plant in Java, grew it in Herzegovina and then shipped it to Moscow. The products initially became favoured by the elite nobility and fledgling bourgeoisie. So Stalin, as the leader of the first worker’s state was in a quandary. If he smoked the cigarettes, he would give the wrong impression. So he opted for the common man’s pipe, but since he couldn’t tear himself away from the flavour of the tobacco, he decided to use it to fill his pipe. Eventually, the elite origins of the tobacco were forgotten and it became indelibly associated with the man himself.

Stalin smoked expensive cigarettes, but hid that fact by smoking them in a pipe, since at the time pipes were the domain of the common man. Pipes required relatively unprocessed shredded tobacco which without government taxation to equalize the price is always cheaper than cigarettes, which contain relatively little tobacco compared to your average pipe pouch. It does not seem appropriate for a Man of the People — or even a People’s Hero SJW — to be smoking expensive cigarettes. The genius of Stalin is that over time, he changed expectations such that his expensive cigarettes became associated with his brutality instead of their formerly elite status.

“Can Latinos be Nazis?”


Speaking of performances quietly cancelled because of perceived political views of the band, the Phoenix New Times brings us a hilarious story about SJW-induced panic over political incorrectness:

The bands’ members are mostly of Mexican descent , bringing up the question, can Latinos be Nazis?

The headliner, Nokturnal Warfare, is a Los Angeles-based group describing itself as a “nican tlaca black metal” band, a reference to a nativist Mexican pride movement. It might seem counter-intuitive for Mexican radicals to associate themselves with neo-Nazis, but there exists an offshoot of national socialist black metal (NSBM, a.k.a. Nazi metal) that has melded with certain strains of Mexican pride movements. A Spanish-language NSBM label called Pagan National Socialist Organization includes bands that feature hybrid images such as swastikas made from Aztec symbols.

The storyline is the same: show is booked, SJWs find some incriminating imagery on Facebook and swarm together in a Tumblr hive, promoter cancels show but is afraid to say why. Then we run into these ludicrous questions about whether these guys are actually Nazis considering that they are not white and not German. The hilarity accelerates:

On the band’s use of swastikas: “The swastika we use is the Mexica, better known as the Aztec swastika. It symbolizes the sun, primarily the sun war god Huitzilopochtli who was the supreme god of the southern native Mexica. … The swastika IS a Mesoamerican sacred pagan symbol. All because the third Reich uses it doesn’t mean we use it the same.”

They do sort of have a point. Swastikas show up in American Indian culture and the related Mesoamerican cultures, much as swastikas show up in Japanese, Finnish, Korean, Indian, Buddhist and Hindu imagery. Before the second World War, swastikas were common in American advertisements, including for Coca-Cola. This ruins the idea that a swastika has to mean whites hating non-whites. Even more, it calls to mind the question: if any group has pride in itself, does that make them Nazis?

Such questions are beyond the scope of this article.

What is within its scope is the problem metal faces with SJWs: they find new meaning in life by destroying the art of others. Their goal is not to expand meaning, but to collapse it into two categories. Either you agree to bleat the SJW orthodoxy, or you are an enemy of the state, an ideological dropout who should be treated as a mental patient. The hypocrisy of it is that most SJWs are white trust-fund babies who went to expensive colleges to learn this stuff, and now use it to assuage their deep inner doubt as they labor on in utter failures of lives.

This brings to mind other times SJW ideology has collided with reality, such as when bisexual Turks troll around with Nazi and racist imagery just to provoke the sheer stupidity of the herd. The SJWs are the herd; they are being trolled in the classic sense, which occurs when people poke at the sacred cows and taboos of an uptight group knowing that the group will lash out in hilarious ways. This is not much different than the Church of Lucifer opening a “church” in a tourist trap or metal bands using themes of war, eugenics, Darwinism, disease and apocalypse to momentarily stir their audience into brief glimpses of something like thought.

In the meantime, another show is cancelled and SJWs attempt to sweep the band under the rug, terrified that somewhere out there the rest of us might make up our own minds. With SJWs, like with Nazis and Stalinists, you either say the right thing… or you must be destroyed. It’s not surprising that metal continues to clash with these intolerant, small-minded and bigoted SJWs, exploding into the conflict we call “Metalgate” because it reflects the same attempts at industry takeover by SJWs as we saw in GamerGate. As with the gaming industry, SJWs have failed to take over metal, and are now fighting a rearguard action to try to save their fractured sense of self-esteem.

Maryland Deathfest organizers confirm Disma removal from California Deathfest for SJW reasons


As reported previously, the California Deathfest (produced by Maryland Deathfest) has booted death metal band Disma for alleged un-PC associations. The organizers of the Maryland Deathfest refused to answer queries by our journalists and others about the reason why Disma was booted.

And then, they publicly denied it:


Unfortunately for them, a metal defender confirmed that the dismissal was politically motivated by reaching out to vocalist Craig Pillard (Incantation, Disciples of Mockery):


His statement read:

they removed Disma!
with no announcement to make us look like the assholes

yes, its true the liberal agenda pc assholes got to the promoter of those shows and we removed Disma which is a not affiliated with any political group at all… but it only helps us for people naturally will get drawn to us more because of this now… thanks for your support for Disma

At this point, the Maryland Deathfest organizers began backpedaling about their reason for refusing to make a statement:


As they tell it, you see, it was not because they did not want to make a statement, but because in some imagined division in our mind, we — and the others who wrote to them — were not “journalists.” Never mind the hundreds of death metal, black metal and heavy metal bands who see us that way, or the work we do. This was a convenient lie for them to escape accountability. As word of Pillard’s statement spread, however, the retreat and backpedaling began in earnest.

Even worse for them is the fact that this issue has come up before with Disma. SJWs complained in Austin, and Disma was yanked there, too, despite there being no evidence or clarification that Craig Pillard is actually involved with any of these political beliefs. Even more, since Disma has a guitarist of Jewish heritage, it is highly unlikely and even laughable that the band would have any political leaning.

No, this was a witch-hunt, pure and simple. It makes SJWs feel powerful to force the world to bend to their ways, and when they can use guilt as a weapon and force others to obey the voices inside their own heads, they almost feel validated. Almost, because they keep doing it again and again. As Metalgate has proven, SJWs are not the most successful, good-looking, intelligent or competent people, which is why they form an angry mob. The people who could not make Onward to Golgotha get an almost sexual thrill from taking down those who could.

This is why Metalgate exists: to defend artistic expression from the small-minded nanny society witch hunters. Here is Pillard’s statement from the last time Disma was witch-hunted by SJWs after their Walter Mitty style cube jobs:


“To the less than one tenth of one percent of the bleeding hypocritical liberalists and to anyone that actually cares, this is my first and final statement; Disma-in no way, shape, or form, has any significance to the ideas of project Sturmfuhrer. On my part alone, the solo projekt known as Sturmfuhrer was a musical and social experiment in the extreme; its purpose was not meant for your pleasure, but for your pain. If I have offended anyone, then it has fulfilled its intended purpose. I do not belong to, or associate with any ideological group in any capacity. To penalize the collective band known as Disma, would be hypocritical and absurd. Thank you for the extra press! – Craig Pillard”

Beef, its whats for dinner!!!

Like many metal musicians, Pillard pushed the boundaries of what is socially acceptable in order to make a point. He was not making propaganda, i.e. music that tells you to think a certain way. This was an artistic statement. But SJWs, bored and lonely in their successless lives, always seek new targets. To give them a sense of purpose. To make them feel important. Even to convince them for a few moments that they are actually good people, instead of mediocrities with the moral caliber of a boiled clam. And Maryland Deathfest gave in, then lied about it, and then lied some more, all to protect this tiny group of people who have never created any metal worth listening to.

Jim Konya/Sadist from Nunslaughter, 1971-2015


Much respected and befriended drummer Jim Konya, a/k/a “Sadist,” of Nunslaughter has died. He suffered a series of strokes beginning three weeks ago and was put on life support last week, with the machines deactivated on October 7.

Over the years, Nunslaughter with Konya at the helm has produced a series of speed metal/death metal hybrid records known for their unrelenting energy, gleeful anti-Christianity and creative riffs. His drum work propelled the work forward with a type of combat-like integrity.

We have dimmed the lights at the Dark Legions Archive in tribute to this legendary metalhead. As his obituary reminds us, “He was an avid sports fan, especially of the Pittsburgh Steelers. Jim has many friends all over the world because of his musical tours and love of music. He will be missed by many.”


Supuration releases video for “Reveries of a Bloated Cadaver” from upcoming compilation Reveries

Grindcore/alternative-rock/deathmetal/progressive rock band Supuration released a track “Reveries of a Bloated Cadaver” from their upcoming re-envisioning of earlier material, Reveries. The band has taken its style of technical death metal and unconventional progressive rock and used it to re-imagine these older tracks in newer form, but has done so without losing the distinctive energy of the earlier material.

Troll rockers Black Pussy continue to push boundaries


Hard rock band Black Pussy, who have deliberately provoked the uptight and easily offended with their name, continue to disturb the sedentary and senile world of heavy rock with further provocations. Upon completing a set of successful live dates, the band was amused to see the following from an irate SJW:


As usual, heavy rock is arrayed between the realist rebels and the nanny establishment, with the former wanting to push boundaries further and the establishment wishing it would all go away so they can go back to selling lukewarm 1970s rock as if it were a new genre. SJWs and hipsters, who act as enablers to industry, do the best they can to enforce more boundaries so that heavy rock must be limited to a narrow range of material, making it easy to churn it out on an assembly line and reap the profits.

Infamous, Solitudo and Warnungstraum releasing Il Rifugio del Silenzio split


Melodic primal black metal band Infamous, along with cohorts Solitudo and Warnungstraum, will release a three-way split on Eremita Productions in December 2015. The bands — each in a variant of the traditional black metal style — have contributed a total of 50 minutes of material.

Limited to 200 hand-numbered copies, the 6-panel digipak will feature the nature-oriented and feral artwork which customarily adorns Infamous releases. For those who have enjoyed this band’s evolution into more Ildjarn-styled territory, with the warmer melodies familiar to Southern European black metal, should anticipate this release with joy.