Just Busted

April 9, 2015

Cops are out of control.  One got caught in the act of shooting a man in the back.  Rapid fire.  Then he had the gall to hand-cuff a corpse.  One of the Charleston brothers happened to catch the whole thing on video.  The videographer asked to remain anonymous.  He knows the crooked cops would hunt him down.

I have been there with these mercenary attack dogs of the neo-bolsheviks.  To my experience they have gone to hell.  They turn a blind eye to crime in my town.  And harass good Christian people instead.

This time one of them shot the wrong man in the back.  How about it johnny law?  How does it feel to be “busted.”  Caught in the act.
All you protesters out there, I’m with you.  100%

Here’s the YouTube:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=XKQqgVlk0NQ

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Missing Damage

April 1, 2015

There was an entry I made in 2010 that was mysteriously whited out.  They left the title, *Damage*, along with a footnote and software coded the text as white with a white background.  Only upon highlighting it during editing mode, would it show up.  How strange.  They try everything.  Smiley face.

So here is the text again.  As I know there is something in it they did not want you to read.  Prolly something I wrote about aircraft.  As I doubt if murders in the backwoods rate concern.  People have gotten so far away from loving their neighbors as themselves, they don’t seem to give a dam.

Here are the deleted scenes:

There are certain things we don’t know.  Like what kind of drug earned Mr. Hershman his present address at the county jail.  It had to be more than a marijuana cigarette.  Wouldn’t you think?
Hershman’s 27-year-old estranged wife, Stephanie, had his two sons back-to-back.  One was three and the other not quite two.  Makes for a busy household I’d say.  Whilst one was in diapers, the next was on the way.
Two toddlers can make houses into hampers.  There needs to be a strong draw, lest a suitor scampers.  Whatever it was that lured U.S. Army Sergeant First Class Matthew V. Perkins into the arms of Stephanie Hershman had to be that.  A strong draw.
He was the Army Recruiter of the town.  A high-visibility military post that enjoys prestige and hero-worship.  He wore the status of returning warrior with tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan.  His arms are covered in “Billy-Bad-Ass” tattoos.  His job is to lure gullible high school boys into  signing on the dotted line for Israel.  He needs to cut a nice figure.  Be in good physical condition.  Be credible.  Be sharp.  The U.S. military conducts routine urinalysis exams to ensure     that this is how it is and how it stays.
Thereby I find it unlikely and untenable that here comes a man fresh from the battle-field to an important career-enhancing post who just nilly-willy takes up a drug habit.  All of a sudden.  Why would he brave two battle fronts and then shoot himself in the foot with C CH CH(CH 3 )NH(CH 3 )?  Methamphetamine turns bodies into wreckage in no slow show.
Perkins had a lot on the stick.  And a lot to lose.  Why not just knock back a little booze?  His office was located  between George Dickel and Jack Daniels distilleries.  Damn boy.  Why crystal meth?  Just go over to Daddy Billy’s and have a few beers.
Maybe he wasn’t into drinkin’.  So I got to thinkin’.  About horses.  When I’m in a quandary, I think about horses.  Sometimes an equine analogy that helps me makes sense of things.
Horses and I — see eye to eye.  I love them and they love me.  I don’t need to take up a whip to make a pony do the high-step.  He does it just to impress me.  And I give him the candied apple of my smile.  That’s how it is with me and horses.  And has been for a while.
Okay, so you throw in an apple or two with his oats and molasses.  Now he wears you weightless with a skirt of tasses.  And the grooming.  The one-plus hour sessions in the barn where I break a sweat while they lull and bathe in the fragrance of last summer’s hay.  That is the way.  You get out of a horse what you put into him.  Like attracts like.  You give love.  You get love.
Conversely, however, if you abuse a horse and kick him around.  One day he will kick you back.  Horses are formidable kickers.  Not everybody treats a horse like I do.  Not even close.  It breaks my heart but that is reality.
As a realist I’ll take you now to the shows, the races.  Where men go to win.  For the athlete horses who run their races and dazzle in their shows — anything goes.  These ruthless, rabid people will resort to any dirty trick in the book to win.
The foremost edge is an injection of amphetamine.  It hops them up.  Gives them the charge beyond charge that propels them down the track.  As if a good horse isn’t rocket enough.  It’s about winning, winning, winning.  By a nose.  By a hair.  Just winning.
Now let’s go to the battle field.  You’re losing your ass.  Getting it handed to you in spades.  The assigned enemy believes in his fight.  You are making war on his land and he knows it better than you.  Like those Confederates and the Swamp Fox.  They will not only fight you to the death, but they have a home-turf advantage.
Your supply lines are iffy.  Big Money wants to win in a jiffy.  He doesn’t mean tomorrow.  He wanted to win yesterday.  He doesn’t care about that race horse or know him personally.  If he loses one more race he’s off to the slaughter-house.  He doesn’t care if the horse is only two years old.  Off with his head.  He’ll put it in your bed, General.
Your Big Money Boss wants to gloat in glory.  He doesn’t care about those soldier boys.  Or whether they come back with a dog-tag or a toe-tag.  He just wants to win.
The Tactical Mind:  If I was losing a war under great pressure and fear of my over-lords, I might resort to a dirty trick.  You can give a soldier methamphetamine and he will stay awake for days while the enemy has to sleep.  Wired and full of crazy aggression, your forces can sneak up on sleeping Pashtuns and cut their throats.
Crystal meth has the same effect as ergot mushrooms did for Vikings.  Before a raid, Vikings ate them for boosted vim and aggression.  They went berserk. It is how they got their name “berserkers.”  They were noisy frontal attackers, clanging battle-axes, these braided Beowulf’s.
Silence, however, would serve today’s losing officer in Afghanistan’s fight.  Just ask Boeing Aerospace.  They make monstrous muted jets you can’t hear even with your rag-top down and them just a little over your head.  Way-low.  Nocturnal stealth is everything to a hunting owl.  And silence has its place when people are sleeping.  Particularly those you plan on killing.  There is a fine line between predation and war.
Given that the men in charge of today’s “War on Terror” are advancing world terrorism for Israel, anything goes.  9/11 sure did.  It’s a false-flag warfare extravaganza.
So, that said, I see a possibility for Stephanie Hershman’s draw-factor.  She may have had a taste for drugs, seeing as her estranged spouse is in the slammer for them.  Since birds of a feather seek each other out, she may have attracted our returning battle-ax with something other than two toddlers.  What it was may or may never come out in the Jewish-owned and controlled media.
That meth was a factor in this horrendous multiple murder case is on the street.  I was just thinking about the “why and how” of it.  Police say that the murders occurred on 19 September 2010.  That’s a Sunday.
A plausible scenario is this one.  Perkins is in the Hershman house.  One or both of the toddlers might have been fussy, whiney or crying.  The psy-op of a baby crying was used to torment the besieged, soon-to-be victims of the Waco inferno.  Toddlers and babies can sometimes test the nerves of their loving parents.  On 19 September, you not only have a non-parent in the house with these children, but possibly a hopped-up soldier.
Feels like we are supposed to think that he snapped and went into kill-mode.  Would it include carving out the victim’s eyes?  Unlikely.  When this news broke, I felt corralled to think that Perkins went berserk.  But now five years have passed and there have been other heinous murders in the same area.  They all happened after Perkins had been removed from society.
Some of the murders became cold case files.  Rape/murder cases, garroted widow…  Two other murder cases sent unlikely convictions to prison.  According to the relative of one victim, the cops arrested a Mexican alien who could not speak English.  They accused him of raping and drugging to death the victim with fentanyl patches.  Unlikely.  The other unlikely conviction was a family man with five children who had no apparent motive.  He was under heavy guard until they locked him away in prison.  They allowed him no contact with objective, independent journalists during his time in county jails.  His mail was intercepted at the prison with no reply to the sender.
Given that rape/murder and pedophiliac snuff films are big business these days, with easy video gadgets, imagine the possibilities.  One horse towns and rural hinterlands are no longer wholesome places to raise your kids.  Corruption and depravity rule the streets.

Reads Like a Rig

March 26, 2015

Today’s German plane crash reads like a big fat rig.  John F. Kennedy, Jr.’s plane crash read like one too.  Sudden rapid descent.  No distress signal.  Unlikely and untenable turn of events.  John-John was one shoe in the White House.  So was his uncle when Sirhan Sirhan supposedly shot him in the head with no motive.  The adored Princess Diana was on a glide-track to marrying an Egyptian Arab.  She was going to make a Muslim prince charming out of him.  Plane crash, car crash….

Why is it that the news hounds do not identify their sources these days?  Isn’t that what we were taught in journalism school?

The news report says that one of the Lufthansa (Germanwings) pilots was locked out of the cockpit?  What kind of cock and bull story is that?  I would have to hear the recording myself.  It smacks of the same baloney we read about the 9/11 victims who supposedly called their loved ones while airborne from out-of-range cell phones.

Here is a pair that may have downed the plane in my opinion:  “Two Iranian journalists who covered the “El Clasico” soccer match between Barcelona and Real Madrid on Sunday were among the crash victims.”  Journalism is dangerous today if you publish truth or hail from a Muslim Middle Eastern State, particularly Iran.  

Planes, cars, boats, name it — can be operated via remote control.  I believe this is how Princess Diana and John Kennedy, Jr. were killed.  Sabotage is old hat.  But today’s sabotage has gotten sophisticated.  Computers make things easy to lie about and withhold from the public.

I believe that German plane was sabotaged.  Everything they do is “two-bird.”  Who do they hate harder than Germany and Iran?  And who has enough money to bottleneck every industry and bribe just about everyone?  What has happened to the FAA?  What has happened to every rural airport?  What has happened to the three letter guys?  What has happened to those who claim they are there to “protect and serve?”  Why did they confiscate all the video footage from 9/11’s Pentagon kamikaze jet?  Why did they spirit away the forensic evidence of 9/11?

Think about other passenger jets in recent years who met similar fates.  With similar untenable “news” stories that followed.  What pilot suddenly dives into the ocean or into a mountain?  Ask yourself who was on the passenger list and to what country the jet belonged.

In the case of hated journalists and German/Austrian politicians, car explosions have been popular.  If my investigations had not borne out so many other “rigs” over the last seven years, perhaps I would be less jaded by what to me reads like a template.

I invite “the authorities” to share their black box findings with us.  Slap it up on YouTube and the six o’clock news.

http://www.aol.com/article/2015/03/25/the-latest-report-says-1-pilot-locked-out-before-crash/21157659/?icid=maing-grid7%7Cmain5%7Cdl1%7Csec1_lnk2%26pLid%3D633562

The Pope Defined

March 9, 2015

It is not only the half-baked offshoots of what once was — who are getting dive-bombed by the father of lies.  Not only they are threatened with “my way or the highway.”  This fungus is universal.

The current “pope” is clearly a sold-out installation whose task it is  to lead astray the Faithful.  God helps us, don’t you worry.  Here is what a true priest had to say about it back in 1976:

“People ask me what I think of the Pope [Paul VI]…  The true Pope is the unity of the Church, inspired by the Holy Ghost, and protected by the promise of Our Lord in upholding the Faith.  But in the aftermath of Vatican II, Paul VI is systematically destroying the Church.  Nothing is spared: catechism, universities, Congregations, seminaries, schools.  Everything Catholic is being destroyed.  One looks for a solution.”  — Arch Bishop Lefebvre  (Source for quote:  Bishop Richard Williamson)

News Clip

August 4, 2014

Here’s a news clip from 1951:

 

“Baghdad, Iraq, 18 June 1951 (AP) – Police said today they had discovered large quantities of weapons and explosives in Izra Daoud Synagogue. Military sources estimated it was enough to dynamite all Baghdad.”

Source:  

Beaty, John.  The Iron Curtain Over America.  1952.  (page 217)

Survival and Austere Medicine: An Introduction

May 18, 2014

( T h e   R e v i e w s )

 

From a suspiciously-anonymous clique of medical writers comes a suspiciously-free “do-it-yourself” manual. One can download from the Internet a copy of their 213-page guide about roughing it after a catastrophe. This darkly-written medical book is entitledSurvival and Austere Medicine: An Introduction (Second Edition), written and edited by The Remote, Austere, Wilderness and Third World Medicine Discussion Board Moderators. What a mouthful — but they sure won’t give you their names.

This foreboding freebie was published in 2005. In an exhaustive lecture about what to do in dire straits, a nurse-paramedic, lab technician, military medic, emergency medical technician, herbalist and a pair of doctors combine their advice for what could be an ulterior motive.

As one reads their chilling dose of good will, the reason for their desired anonymity emerges. There is a chapter in this book that seems like a provocation for nurses to commit murder. In a burdensome load, the nursing chapter instructs care-givers to do things no person would be able to do in an austere situation short of going insane. In a previous chapter, detailed instructions are given on how to make ether. How convenient. Then in a burst of sarcastic warning, there comes a thinly-veiled hint that it can be used to put somebody’s lights out.

The book reads like a calm, jeering mockery of a future predicament. In response to fear and worry, the star doctor lectures for chapters about the grimmest of miseries. Like a demon in a white coat, he mocks his readers with comments like, “…if you are considering a long-term collapse…” and “…if you are planning for a multi-generational catastrophe…” Then a nurse/paramedic calling him or herself “Reasonable Rascal,” pushes a nurse to the brink with, “You should give some thought to how you will wash large amounts of linen possibly without access to electricity.”

Euthanasia is addressed and offered as a way to take care of business when things get bad enough. They even have gruesome fiction in the back of the manual about amputations and other things that interest the medical community.

This glib manual reads like a preparation for not only the medical community, but also ordinary citizens. The focus is quick and dirty medicine that one would have to practice in back-woods, 3rd World, or post- nuclear/biological/chemical/radiological-attack scenarios.

The buzzwords used throughout this book tie these shadow doctors in with other globalists. There is nobody who writes an exhaustive medical book of this size for free. The ulterior motive for this project might be a commission from the Wizard to lighten the load on the first-responders, military and medical staff who will be saddled with the task of a disaster aftermath.

This free Internet manual is hardly the first sighting of an iceberg whose tip has been bobbing up since 2002. The doctor who wrote most of it tries to rally up eager beavers who are instructed to buy a library of medical reference books. These groups are then to gather up more groups of medical enthusiasts to form pockets of disaster preparedness teams across the country. It seems that without substantial motive, nobody would go through all that trouble.

This manual is in good company with an ocean of post-2002 documents on the street of the same vein (military, state and municipal). It ties in neatly with the government’s mass casualty assistance and mobile mortuary teams. These groups are all part of the “Preparedness Community.” Prepared for what one might ask. This books lists a few things.

Here’s the web address to their sinister freebie:www.survival-spot.com/survival-files/survival-medicine.pdf

Getting the Math

March 5, 2014

I trust and believe that my Maker dictates what of His universe I am to “get” in the math sense.  If everybody “got” aerospace engineering, they’d be aerospace engineers.  But they don’t and they’re not.  Down here in our crude physical world, we are limited enough mentally.  Beyond this world, it’s a great wide open.  Stuff so fabulous and fearsome, most earthlings will never get it on this side of the grave.  God dictates who gets that stuff.  He decides our talents.  He lays the track of our trains up the road.  We cannot know the future.  But trusting in Him, will be pleasantly surprised by it.  I own the knowledge.

One of my math professors was a mechanical engineer before he decided to teach math.  His mind was honed in the ways of engineering.  A keen blade of mathematical disciplines.  During one of our study sessions, he is the one who first used the phrase “you don’t own it,” referring to my ability to work a certain math problem.  In other words, “you do not own this knowledge” yet.  You don’t get the math yet.  You can work the problem by rote and produce the correct answer.  But if I throw you a curve ball on an exam, you won’t understand it.  Since that day I knew what “owning the knowledge,” meant.

Today, sadly, this kind of math is being used to design machines of mass murder.  Medical men are cooking disease.  It is the “my will be done” trying to overshadow the righteous “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven…” that will sound the knell of our world.  When man tries to play God, he fails.

For My Legionaries

September 30, 2013

 

( T h e   R e v i e w s )

This powerful testimony begins in the author’s high school days.  He called a group of his classmates together for a secret meeting in the Dobrina Forest.  The year was 1919.  He asked them, “What are we going to do if the Bolsheviks invade us?”  They took a vow to fight to the death in defence of their Christian Romania.

 

Passionately Orthodox, Captain Corneliu Codreanu led his men in what would become a vast movement of resistance against “Judeo-communism,” as he called it.  Codreanu’s autobiographical masterpiece (* For My Legionaries *) mirrors * Mein Kampf * yet Codreanu was ahead of Adolf Hitler in undertaking the jewish problem.

 

Hitler just came from fighting WWI and was still reeling from the jewish swindle of Versailles when Codreanu burst onto the nationalist scene at the University of Iasi.

 

In September 1919, Codreanu entered Iasi as a law student.  He saw the bolshevik menace surrounding him everywhere.  Communists were fanning the flames of revolution among Romanian factory workers as they had done in Russia.  They were attempting the same process by marxist propaganda, industrial sabotage and agitation of the workers against their government.

 

The author, like Hitler, wastes not a word.  He delves immediately into the facts, hard as granite.  Truth is a punch in the kisser.  Sometimes you can’t pretty it up.  Nor soften the blow.  So here we go.

 

In 1920’s Romania, communist jews were wailing “peace, justice, freedom, brotherhood and liberty” — just like they do today.  But here is what a scholar at the author’s university observed:  “They say they want peace, but they themselves destroy it, killing the most worthy; demand freedom, but by death threats, oblige people to submit to them; wish brotherhood, while they sow hatred, injustice, and licentiousness within nations.”

 

“Their word is a lie.  They tell us they do not want war, but they war.  They demand the army be abolished, but they arm themselves.  They urge us to discard the tricolor flag, while in its stead they hoist the red flag of hatred,” wrote Constantin Pancu, “The leaders of the Romanian communist workers were neither Romanians nor workers.”  They were all a bunch of jews and Pancu names every one of them on page 20 of * For My Legionaries *.

 

The commie jews worked to banish God from Iasi’s Christian university.  They were “knocking down churches with picks or transforming them into stables and places of sadistic parties for the little jewish reporters from Opinia, Adivarul, Dimineata and their people.”

 

This book is full of quotes that should be in stone and written in the sky.  Here is one from page 37, “But, while the Christian apostles preached their ideal in the open, the Talmud hides; and its two appendages, the Kahal and Freemasonry, are even more invisible.  …the lie is the basis of the system used by Jews, to whom one can say:  ‘You speak, therefore you lie.’ ”

 

Wham.  Right in the kisser.   So gallant Cordeanu entered this fight as a young law student.  He threw himself into it, heart and soul, “…understood from all that I saw that we were losing our country…  I finish my third university year under the imperium of these thoughts.  …To what extent were the means used by Jews in Russia civilized?  How civilized is it to slaughter millions of people without trial?  To what extent is it civilized to set fire to churches or to transform them into cabarets?”

 

They of course expelled him from university for his political activities.  He fought them like a tiger and finally graduated.  They threw him into prisons.  He spent miserable months there.  But went to trial and was acquitted several times.  The usual jewish hassle routine.  They smear you.  They hunt and harass you.  They purchase police to hunt and harass you.  Same old shtick.

 

The author’s colleagues said that jews were consumers only and not producers.  Their only principal industry was the retailing of alcohol.  Like a fungus, they spread about their floozy bars and nightclubs throughout Romania.  Keep in mind that the same thing was happening in Germany simultaneously.

 

On page 100 one finds this wallop, “Thus, two ways of Jewish behavior toward us are specified in the Talmud:  (1) If you are stronger than Christians, exterminate them; (2) If you are weaker than Christians, flatter them…”

 

Codreanu lectures his legionaries like a sage professor.  He explains that in every city or market town where jews have settled, there exists a secret council called (in the Hebrew) a Kahal.  This is the nucleus of every jewish community.  Here all the plans are laid for controlling the surrounding non-jewish population:  How to win over local politicians and authorities; how to infiltrate circles of interest; how to usurp commerce from the hands of non-jews; how to destroy those who are critical of jews; how to destroy incorruptible officials who might oppose jewish interests; what plans to apply if people wise-up and revolt.

 

So one never fights just a jew, he’s fighting the covert Kahal of whom the jew is a member.  Recall the speech of John F. Kennedy’s in which he points out a monolithic, highly-efficient machine which uses covert means to do its dirt.  He was talking expressly about the jewish kahal.  But this one was international.  Kennedy was no mason nor fan of jews.  Neither is any good Catholic.  As an aside, I have to submit how they smeared Kennedy only post-mortem.  If the jews had any dirt on Kennedy while he was alive, it would have been emblazoned on the cover of every yellow rag in their sleaze bag.  But they had nothing.   So they waited until he was murdered to “come forward with his character assassination.”  God knows who Kennedy is.  That’s all that mattered to Kennedy.  Raise your chalices high to a good Catholic boy.

 

Codreanu writes that in market towns or cities invaded by the jews, local authorities are either in a state of bribery, a state of blackmail or a state of destruction.

 

Nationally, he continues, the jews will take advantage of every opportunity to sow discord among the people.  Spreading misunderstandings, quarrels and pitting factions against each other.  They spread filth and perversion.  Advance whoring to destroy families and moral fiber.  They poison and daze them with booze and drugs (note today’s meth, cocaine and heroin).  Anyone wishing to conquer and destroy a people can employ this method and do it more efficiently than with bombs and artillery.

 

Note how what was happening in Romania in the 1920’s is happening all around you today – to the letter.  If you follow the money, it will lead you straight to some jew.

 

During peaceful political rallies led by Codreanu, the jews sought ways to raise a fracas.  They needed pretext to whine to the police and government.  So they pulled a low-key rendition of their false flag operation.  Codreanu sums it up, “…two Jews, surely set up by their rabbi, broke the windows of a store, their own.”

 

Here is another false flagger.  Be mindful of how this tactic will be used again and again by jews in the future.  Codreanu writes, “The Jews, realizing the danger of a Romanian rebirth, started provoking people.  …They set fire to the Borsa, blaming Romanians for it.”  Then the jewish newspapers began yelling that the Romanians were preparing pogroms.  It is formulaic, their shtick.  One can predict it to the minutest detail.

 

In 1927 Codreanu sojourned with his bride in the French Alps to attend more academic classes.  He needed work so he took odd jobs threshing wheat and harvesting potatoes among the peasants.  He learned much from them about life and love.  Often he saw a piece of cardboard in their stables, which read, “Love the animals, our partners in labor!”  Cattle there were well protected from cold and hunger.  Their coats were brushed daily.

 

Upon his arrival to France, Codreanu worried that he would find moral decay.  But was pleasantly surprised that whether peasant or townsman, Frenchmen were of a severe morality.  The leading class, however, was under the heel of Judeo-Masonry, which uses Paris as world headquarters (London being but a subsidiary with its Scottish Rite).

 

When Codreanu was called back to Romania on matters of State, the French peasants wept at their farewells.  Let this speak for the character of a man.

 

Thirty men on horseback rode through the winter countryside.  White Crosses on their coats.  Turkey feathers in their hats.  This was the Legion of Michael the Archangel.  This was Romania’s Iron Guard on its breakout ride.  They touched ever patriot’s heart and secured his vote for the future.

 

Codreanu traveled throughout the land, giving speeches and making contact with the suffering multitudes.  One group that stands out as the worst-case scenario is the Moti of Transylvania.  Their livelihood comes from mountain timber from which they make a modest life.  The jews infiltrated these mountains, built lumber mills, felled their forests and left them bare rock.  The people lamented how the jews “grabbed our forests and cut them down.”  They told Codreanu, “If you utter one single word, you are arrested as an enemy of the State’s security.”  The jews controlled the authorities then as they do now – with their ill-gotten money.  On page 262 one reads how the jews brought debauchery with them into the Moti’s mountains.  And how on Saturday nights they would defile destitute women in night-long orgies.  How is that so different from what they do today?

 

Under Codreanu’s brilliant leadership, the Legion was highly organized.  Each village had a nest comprised of a leader and a hierarchy under him.  They worked together in firm solidarity and Christian unity.  Much like the Catholic Church in the old days before Vatican II.

 

After this political movement had spread throughout Romania (shockwave), they were made the target of much persecution.  The jewish money-power bribed its way around to thwart the Iron Guard.  High and low.  At every turn.  The jews and their lackeys broke a sweat.  Despite the commie war against them, this Christian Legion won several seats in Parliament in 1931.  Despite the stolen ballot boxes and attempts on their lives – they won the popular vote.

 

Codreanu knew there was a price on his head.  He began to call his Legion “the death team.”  Everybody dies of something.  Sooner or later.  That is reality.  When you die the first death, make it your last.  Sailors of the Flying Dutchman are cruising for the second one.  The ship appears to be a spiritual holding tank between this life and the next.  Waiting for the trumpet sound to seal their fate.

 

Captain Codreanu fought the good fight and died the good death.  He was strangled with his hands tied to the bench behind him and feet tied to the bench in front of him.  Before they chucked him in the hole, they shot him in the back post-mortem to make it look like he was running from them.  The account of his death was given in a 1940 testimony by a gendarme assassin named Sarbu.  The good guys only die once.

 

The same kind of jewish gloat piece we can read about the murder of Czar Nicholas and his family.  Grisly details of how jews gunned them down in a cellar.  Then poured acid on their corpses and buried them in a secret place.  The great Czar and his family were dug up later and removed.  Isn’t it funny how Hitler was supposed to have killed six million jews and they have yet to dig up a single one?  But I digress.  Sarbu the assassin was paid 20,000 lei for strangling Corneliu Zelea Codreanu.  The only reason for this testimony, I believe, is so the jews could glory in the details.  They have a penchant for recounting their murders with zeal.  They circulate pictures of them.

 

I leave you with this mirror of our situation today:  Codreanu wrote of a “muted persecution” that he and his men suffered.  How it haunted them and their families since they took up the fight.  “If you were a young graduate you could not get a state job unless you reneged on your conscience and your faith.  …The State got to be a school of treason in which men of character were murdered while treason was abundantly rewarded.”
 

 

Who Flies the Dutchman

September 27, 2013
Dutchman.1
 
You do, bitch.

50 Days in Gaol

August 5, 2013

 

( T h e    R e v i e w s )

Dedicated to the great Horst Mahler, Dr. Fredrick Töben launches his * 50 Days in Gaol * from Heathrow Airport.   In September 2008, Töben was arrested there while still on the plane at the arrival gate.  The warrant for his arrest was issued by arm-twisted, knee-calloused Germany for the ridiculous claim of “Holocaust denial.”

 

What a smear on Germany, her disgusting servility to bolshevism.  One is given the fine point in Töben’s book.  Beginning with his arrest, we are educated on how the jewish bullshit industry works.

 

The international jew knows that what his bribery cannot secure, threats of poverty and terrorism likely shall.  So Töben’s ilk faces no small obstacle.  Let the long list of German names in this valiant movement defray from a corrupt German judiciary.

 

Töben names the courageous people who have supported him during this and other hassles.  Gerard Menuhin wrote the eloquent foreword to this book, for example.  A fierce indoctrination for the reader, despite the minefield of taboo’s for the writer.

 

Categorized with criminals, Töben makes the most of his time in jail.  He turned it into a learning experience, stating that “…if the illicit drug trade were to be de-criminalized, then most jails would lose at least three-quarters of their inmates, and solicitors and judges would be looking elsewhere for jobs.”

 

That virtuous gentlemen like Töben get thrown in the slammer illustrates the jewish blueprint of * The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion *.  In this little “expose all,” the jews gloat about how men like Töben will be labeled criminals and left to rot in jail.  There is little in this jewish blueprint that has not come to pass, which confirms its authenticity.  No way to cry foul about it.  Truth is truth.  Fact is fact.  But lies eventually all trip over their sundry versions of a story.  Now don’t they, counselor.  Why else practice cross-examination?

 

Indeed if truth had no value, then our algebra would be worthless.  Our engineering, a joke.  There would be no bridges, tall buildings, aircraft nor their ocean-going carriers.  Because math proves truth.  First you write the algorithms.  Then you work the practical applications.  If the plane doesn’t fly, your math won’t either.

 

Hence Töben’s argument about the lackluster Nazi smear-job.  There is not a shred of evidence to prove that Nazi Germany exterminated jews.  None of the ridiculous bullshit about so-called “death camps” flies mathematically, chemically, nor in any other science provable by man.  They have yet to produce the first atom of forensic evidence corroborating the kangaroo court of Nuremberg.

 

Is there any wonder, therefore, why the jews have written “laws” gagging truth-speakers and scientists from presenting their findings on Töben’s behalf?  Is there any wonder why “truth is no defence” in court when it comes to matters Holocaust-Shoah?

 

Well of course not.  If Töben and Company galloped into court with what they know the whole sham house of cards would fall.  So would Israel.  Israeli jews would have to go live somewhere else and face the music of their hoax – in the round – to a global audience.  I wager they would rather die and go to hell.

 

As one turns the pages of  * 50 Days in Gaol ,* the author’s experience verifies more pages in * The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion. *  If there is one thing that a jew loves to do more than swindle the poor, it is to toot his own horn.  So expect the poetic justice of Töben’s book to run them through with an Excalibur of irrefutable Truth.  Despite the fact that in the jew’s courtroom, “truth is no defence.”

 

The reader is introduced to revisionists so great that one is humbled by their rectitude.  Professor Robert Faurisson, Ernst Zundel, Sylvia Stolz, Germar Rudolph, Udo Walendy and others who have taken their stand against the beast — come what may.  Unlike the turncoats and sellouts of the Second World War, these champion reformers stand tall and firm.  They tower above the groveling multitudes who would rather “live on their knees than die on their feet,” as Francis Parker Yockey wrote.

 

Excalibur is right.  Truth has a shimmer that out-flashes the gaudy glitz of lies.  And unlike the damned, Truth never dies.  You bolsheviks only have so long to strut upon the stage.  According to the brilliant minds in Töben’s chorus, it’s been a bad act so far.  The bamboo hook is coming.

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