Most wizards of chaos would bore you arseless about how the chaos they tapped was emancipation, that their nonlinear conjuring was the antithesis of the straight-lined bordering mindset that led, they insisted, to Birchenau, blah fucking blah. But it was always a sleight of politics to stress only that aspect of the far right. There was another, somewhat repressed but no less faithful and faithfully fascist tradition: the decadent baroque.
Among the fascist sects, the most flamboyant, eager as Strasserites to reclaim what they insisted was the true for of a deviated movement, where the Chaos Nazies. The creaking black leather of the SS, they insisted to the tiny few who would listen, and not run or kill them on sight, were a cowards pornography, a prissy corruption of tradition.
Look instead, they said, to the rage in the east. Look to the autonomous terror-cell-structure of Operation Werewolf. Look to the sybarite orgies in Berlin, that were not corruption but culmination. Look to the holiest date in their calendar: Kristallnacht, all those chaos scintillas on stone. Nazism, they insisted, was excess, not prig-restraint, not that superego gusset bureaucrats had chosen.
Their symbol was the eight-pointed chaos star altered to make a Moorcock weep, its diagonal arms belt fylfot, a swastika that pointed in all directions. What is "Law", they said, what is Chaos's nemesis bu the Torah? What is Law but Jewish Law, which is Jewishness itself, and so what is Chaos but the renunciation of that filthy Torah-Bolshevist code? What was best in humanity but the will and rage and indulgence, do what thou wilt the autopoeiesis of the Ubermensch? And so, endlessly, on.
They were provacateurs, of course, and a ludicrously tiny group, but notorious even among the wicked for occasional acts of unbelievable, artistic cruelty, restoring the true spirit of their prophets. Sure the Final Solution was efficient, they insisted, but it was soulless. "The problem with Auschwitz", they insisted, "is that is was the wrong sort of 'camp'!" Their hoped-for Chaos Fuhrer, they thought, might achieve a sufficiently artistic genocide.