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Chemistry is more fun than a bed full of angry tarantulas. I made my first batch of gun powder at age 9;. gun cotton at 11; and nitroglycerine at age 15. When I was a more responsible 23, I managed to destroy nearly half of a laboratory with an unplanned explosion of silver fulminate – the g.d. cooling stack failed to work since some idiot shut off the water supply. I later creamed this sucker by filling all of the door and window cracks on his car with water during a bout of below-zero temperatures. I often wondered what he did at 2 A.M., in an empty parking lot, 7 miles from the nearest town, with all of the doors welded with ice. I cornered him later in the week and mentioned that if he ever f---ed up again, he's not believe what would happen. He quit the company 2 days later.
When I was 12, Roger and I built a tissue paper balloon and filled it with hot air generated by an ingenious device which Roger came up with. It was so successful, that they ran an article about it in a Rochester newspaper. Being heady with our accomplishment, we built a larger one and fastened Mrs. Brumsted's cat in the basket. It went out of sight and even today we still wonder what ever happened to that cat.
O to be young again and still working at the U.S. Army's poison gas facility in Derby CO. We'd prop up liquid chlorine cylinders and then shoot the valves off. If you love green air, you'd have had as much fun as we did – raising havoc with the environment. What an opportunity to strap Marxist Ralph Nader to a so-destined cylinder. He'd could sit there and enjoy green until the party was over.
Kas and I were not delinquents as you might like to believe. We studied the appropriate laws before we ever built one booby trap. I'll refrain from telling you what Don and I did when we found Jimmy C. humping Reverend Stafford's daughter. A million years later, my beautiful older sister still breaks up recalling it. The wild kids today have no imagination. "Fun" is confined to vandalsim, booze and sex. We'd spend weeks planning a sophisticated "fall" for some dink who foolishly crossed us. I could tell you how to start a fire with water but I don't want to be accused of providing sweet and lovely lads with an excuse for mischief.
I always loved mixing things together especially if they made a lot of smoke and foul odor. At 16, I put together an emulsion which was later to be commonly known as 'waterless hand cleaner'. As far as I know, the idea was original. From the tiny town I lived in, the idea spread to California and then back to New York until today it is everywhere. The recipe could not be patented for some legal reason or the other but I did manage to secure a contract with a nice jewish concern which laid out a pleasing royalty plan. I never got one kosher cent due to the legal mischief imposed by lawyers. The fellow, in order to get out of the contract – I was going to get too much money to suit him – turned the whole business over to his shack-up companion. She later sold the whole thing out from under him, to a company in Ohio. Greed changes people into snakes.
If you ever watch "christian" TV, you might notice the Liberace-like fag pianist wearing those $6000 dollar rings. We stuck it to this boy one night when he was performing in a theater in upper New York. Sorry, but I'll hold off the details until he dies. That's what a considerate fellow I am. This pompous ass just rubbed me the wrong way.
Someday I'll have to tell you the story about the filter paper I put into actor James Garner's salami sandwich one day at the race track at Santa Barbara CA. At a USO dance in Nashville TN, I drew the ticket which allowed me the first dance with beautiful actress Janet Blair. As I pressed myself between her you-know-whats, I slipped an ice cube down the back of her dress. If she is still alive, I wonder if she remembers? I'll bet she does!
I nearly got into serious trouble years ago by failing to realize that some people took life seriously. I was working for the Atomic Energy Commission in a laboratory, third shift. Having lots of time on my hands, I decided to to pick open the platinum safe. (I always was lucky when it came to opening locked things.) I opened it the next night and slipped in a sign reading "Kilroy was here!" The next day the F.B.I. was crawling all over the place trying to ascertain what was stolen (nothing was). It was quite humorous to watch all of those sour-faces scamper about. Realizing that it was only I who was amused, I confessed. They canned me and so I decided to go to college to see how the slugs lived. They grabbed me quickly at the University of Chicago where my first amusement came when I made a master key and opened every room door in the Snell-Hitchcock complex. It was bedlam for nearly 2 hours after the boys returned from class. I also yanked Nobel Prize winner Dr. Urey's chain one day. It was mild because I liked the old boy even though he was a little on the short side. I was the only male to have been granted a "Women's Division" pass to the swimming pool. Imagine standing on the diving board, in the raw, preparing to practice another "twist" when about 15 girls burst in. All but one screamed a bit and ran out. One remained and she started a conversation. That was how I met Janet. I think she was attracted to my mind.
At the moment, I cannot recall the incident but I do remember the confrontation. A wiener head threatened to unleash his yapping dog at us. I advised him not for it would go like this: The dog would sink its teeth into my arm. Thereupon I would swing fiercely in a circle so the dog's back would be broken when it slammed into the nearby tree. If he didn't release his grip, I repeat the maneuver. When it let go, I'd grab it by the legs and swing again bashing its brains out on the trunk. I'll be damned if I'll be intimidated by a 50 pound dog. I've learned that when the adrenaline flows, pain ceases.
When I decided to have children, a formidable task was ahead – find a virgin with suitable character. No career twats for me. I located two and I visited their families. Only one came from a solid family structure. The father was one who it would be ill advised to cross and the mother, one of the warmest, most honest, women I ever met. Previously, I had saved up a tidy sum. This was what we lived on for three years. I never lost one day of association with my daughter for those irreplaceable days were more precious than the world's millions. I returned to work often taking her with me. Never was an hour lost. Our daughter never knew a baby sitter nor a day when her parents were somewhere else. No day care communes either! This I made clear from the start. We, and we alone, would bring up our children. Why eat bologna when steak is available? Why stick it to your innocent kids due to parental selfishness? These were to be my children, my blood. Should I allow them to have a mother who was a well used piece of meat? A liar and person of low and mean character? There were to be no compromises relative to my blood. Not in this life!
At the last class reunion I attended, we were asked to write a brief essay on what we did since we graduated. I submitted a brilliant overview which caused Helen Radzuhn to inquire, "You DID all of that?" I replied, "Yes, and more. That's why I am rich beyond belief for I filled my life with experiences instead of material trash which only consumes space." Women never understand this and few men do. Eric Thomson understands and that's why we hit it off from minute one, those many years ago.
My youngest blonde sister hugged and kissed me saying she loved me and then remarked that I'd never die – for who in heaven or hell would put up with me? It's nice to be loved.
Brains without character (like education without character) are worthless. Anthony Ludovici.
Older fathers are particularly prone to to procreate brilliant children. The older a father is at the date of a child's birth, the greater the chance of mental brilliance being acquired in the offspring. Anthropologist A. F. Dutton.
Plutocratic ages are generally feminist, and the tendency to judge wholly according to money values prevails where women gain influence... Nothing can be done with a stupid woman... Academic diplomas are no proof of intelligence... In the working class, the absurd superstition against any disparity of more than two or three years in the ages of those to be married, has acquired so strong a hold upon the female, that even a man ten years a girl's senior is classed as "too old". A woman ages very much more quickly than a man and the older man provides more happiness, fidelity and security for both parties. A. M. Ludovici
If a man's work is exceptional, it need not be decorated with the author's titles. A man displaying his credentials is a man with probably nothing else to show. R. M. Frentz.
What about the election circus, many ask. I think it goes this way:
The Rotes Parteí is 666 bent to plant the wicked witch of the east in the Casa de Blanco in 2004, the year of the bed bug. The last step of the crud alignment was the splitting of white women away from their men using the time proven bolshevik baloney. Her Democrat party already had the support of the perverts, parasites, pimps, muds, cruds and thuds of the outback. Mayor Juliani was known as a vote getter and so he had to be pulled out of the N.Y. senate race. He was replaced by the relative novice Lazio. The vote went better than expected. I have observed batches of female helium heads gape transfixed at this red viper much in the way a rat stares at a cobra prior to its demise.
The national election was supposed to be another one of those neck-to-neck spectacles which lull the chickens back to sleep after the brief hen house disturbance called an election. Bush had most of the spic vote, so they thought. Although still retaining the fat cat spic vote, the spic underground put out the word, in the early part of this year, that they needed Gore for their La Raza plan. That became the third-world Florida problem. Not only did this toss a moldy bagel into the works but something else happened and that was the unexpected rush of goremones. The stand-in now seized the opportunity which was far more enticing than politely bowing out and accepting another plush job. Gore became heady with the prospect of achieving more political power – something the kosher klan hadn't foreseen or planned for.
I still believe that the damage control unit will be able to pull the scam off as scheduled and the only worry is what the American boob will do. Joe Six-pack's attention span is determined by the number of niggerball games and as long as our masters toss him a bone, he'll gnaw contentedly and remember "Indecision 2000" as "That was really sumptin, wusn't it?"
2. They were not in contact with Tampa Approach Control at the time and apparently never had been.
The F-16 pilot concerned was from Boca Raton. The AF refused to release the name or sex of the wing thing who didn't collide. This undisciplined trash is what's left after Hillary pick Sheila Widnall conducted her Maoist purge of the Air Force pilots. Now in a just world these two twits (or twit and twat) would be taken to White Sands Missile range and strapped into a target drone for the next Patriot surface to air missile test, after a short trial to confirm their identities and the particulars of 1 & 2.
Instead they'll probably get post traumatic stress disorder counseling by an array of politically correct therapists. If either is a minority they might get Air Medals at a White House ceremony since the CFII was a white male. If the other F-16 pilot was a fleamale and plays her cards right, she can probably gin up at least 10 sexual harrassment and discrimination allegations during the NTSB and AF investigations, full apologies and two affirmative action promotions.
Hey mon! If females are equal to males then how come we don't hear much about females committing "hate crimes"?
Let's look at the police officer. What does he do? He certainly must LOOK like he had authority and there is nothing on the personal level which commands more authority than BIG. In the performance of his duties, he is often called upon to CHASE some useless piece of human garbage. He often has to physically OVERPOWER the culprit. All of these indicate a physical requirement which preclude the admission of nearly all females.
If policing were only a matter of filling out a form and being able to hit a bull's eye with a speeding bullet, then females would be on a par with males. However, the LAW now makes it nearly impossible for police to use their guns and since dealing with the bad guy is not a matter of filling out a form, where are the situations – the real life and death situations – for which females are equipped handle?
Although not standardized, this is perhaps common to many physical requirements
for police officers:
(1) Male: must be able to bench press his own body weight. Female: 58 percent.
(2) Male: must be able to run 7.0 MPH over a distance of 1.5 miles. Female: 5.8 MPH over 1 mile.
(3) Male: 38 sit-ups in one minute. Female: 25
What makes this nonsense ludicrous is that AGE is also considered and so if you are 60, the requirements are cut nearly in half. Now I ask you: who would you like to be chased by just after you robbed a bank? Who would you like to be tackled by assuming they caught up with you? Who would you rather resist when it came to a blow by blow? As for me, I'd choose a 62 year old female dwarf with false teeth. If the officer is a 6'2" male, can run 10 MPH and bench press 320 pounds, then don't send him after me. That wouldn't be fair.
Selection on the basis of merit cannot happen in the present political climate. Once a task is described then most will be disqualified by reason of an inability to be useful relative to that task. Selection on the basis of merit is discriminatory by definition. You cannot have one without the other and no worthwhile objective is ever achieved when the participants are chosen without discrimination. This society is f---ing insane.
Again, I'll repeat that I criticize the harpies not because they are female, but because they demand special privileges while hypocritically yapping something about "being fair" and "equality". The self-defense comedy teaches females to kick men in the balls but what instructor of men teaches them to punch women in the tits and kick pregnant women in the stomach?
Eric Thomson has always reminded me that he chooses his friends because of their politics and not his politics because of his friends. With a mate, that is even more urgent. If your female does not stand by you, in the political arena, then you are one sorry sucker for that is the first sign that she'll do a "bobbitt" on you – sooner or later.
Now, the female in combat is another laughable consideration.
Once upon a time there were two lovebirds, Joy and Peter. Joy loved Peter, especially a big one, and Peter loved Joy, as long as he could sustain it. Both, being patriotic, enlisted in the Army not because they wanted college freebies and discounted bus passes, but because they both wanted to blow the asses off 'terrorists', domestic, foreign, especially those from UFOs wearing rectangular mustaches. Being raised on computer games, they failed to realize that unlike the virtual nonsense, their lives could be placed in danger, as least that's what hiding-in-the-rear General Blackhead of the Golf Course War told them. Before they were informed of this, both had supported equality in the Armed Farces, After all, a woman could use a slit trench just as well as a man.
Joy then began to wonder as only a woman can wonder. What if I get knocked up? Will the enemy take time out so that my beautiful genius baby girl could be born? How long could I remain at the front and continue to breast feed? If I don't get knocked up, will my male comrades mind if I don't change my sanitary napkin until after the bayonet charge? You know, she said to herself, being a woman is great stuff as long as you can schedule your biology to harmonize with events. This war stuff is very inconvenient. I'm putting in a request for transfer and when I get home I am going kick someone in the balls for conning me into voting for that slim bag who wanted women in the military.
Joy was not alone and by the time the next "peace keeping" war came around, women were denied their Constitutional right to get their bodies blown apart during combat. Woman could be soldiers as long as they were at least 4062 miles from the battle lines.
Peter was still in the Army since he signed up for the "duration", whatever that meant. He thought about Joy, sitting on her duff in a warm office, getting the same pay and benefits as he, but without the joy of being shot at and eating cold C rations left over from war #39. There was something odd about this equality business, he told himself. Besides, he was not getting his ration of joy from Joy as before. He wondered if Joy had found another Peter or Dick or, heaven forbid!, some asian named Wang.
"You know," said Joy to Sheila, "my Peter is so far away that I cannot feel his 'vibes' anymore." The Captain, who couldn't help but overhear the lamenting offered, "Don't worry. I have a Dick which will help alleviate your mental anguish." At this point he showed her a picture of his 24 year old Dick.
Sgt. Claude Balz jumped up and offered to help Joy write a 'Dear John' letter to battle thumped Peter explaining her tender fickleness. Sheila, always helpful, added, "Remember. You may have lost a Peter but you have gained a Dick." At this point they all sang "Over there...."
When Peter opened his letter he read: Dear John – sorry – Peter, The deep love we shared was as deep as any shared love people ever shared. It was deep, as you mentioned during our last intimate encounter during the blizzard of '89, and only that depth allowed us to share. As you know, time waits for no one, and that's why mom's apple pies often got burned, so I don't want to get burned by waiting. I am too beautiful for one man alone and you are fighting to protect one of our most sacred Constitutional rights – the right to share. Therefore, while you are getting your ass shot off I am also contributing to the war effort by sharing Joy with all of those draft dodgers who were so unfortunate as to deny themselves a hero's welcome upon return from where ever it is they went. Our love was special special but my country calls and soon I hope to get called into the country where I can experience Splendor in the Grass with one of the biggest Dicks I've ever known. Every night you are in my prayers. I hope you kill all of those mothers, those – who did you say we were fighting now? Love, Joy.
Peter, during a lull in the bombardment, felt a rumbling in his abdomen which indicated that the beans he just ate were announcing their presence. He glanced at the "Love, Joy." and was thankful that the paper size seemed sufficient for its destined role.
I love this new equality environment. I no longer open doors for women nor give up my seat on a bus. If she is being hammered by her lover, I ignore it. When she's pregnant, I offer no special consideration. If the package is too heavy for her to carry, I leave her stranded. All in all, what the man-hater crowd really wants is not equality but special privileges. In that respect they are in the same boat as the perverts, blacks, jews, muds, and decaying fish. The crime is that the white male is giving it to them.
Much to do about nothing.
One can always test the state of a society by what it considers important.
Here we see dead serious Americans, Zionist Republicans and Zionist Democrats,
engaged in the sort of activity which destroys minds – believing that
they are doing something as important as plotting the trajectory of a flying
horseball. How long, one might rightly ask, will it take them to answer
a question on the most momentous event since the eruption of Krakatoa?
Is it fly shit or isn't it?
I do spend time in thoughtful observation of crows and squirrels to the 15 year old across the way who goes by the affectionate name of "blanket ass." I've built little contraptions, with corn as bait, in an attempt to discover the problem solving ability of squirrels and found that they possess something amazing relative to what we believe careens about in their heads. B.A. doesn't have survival problems. She routinely strips, lies down and spreads. The squirrel has to solve several things in order to eat. B.A. just waits for simple minded mom to serve up a platter.
I.Q. tests do contain situations which are of a problem solving nature plus much which relies on recall (like the idiotic TV quiz shows). I do not believe that a demonstration of memory has much going for it because if that were an accurate rendition, then computer memory would come off as genius instead of the purely physical arrangement of charged particles which it represents. The problem solving ability of all life forms (except the protected idiots of the various human species) indicates a pervasive and powerful level of intelligence in critters most religions disclaim.
This is where 'working Joe' has the ground cut out from under him. Since he didn't get super grades on his school test nor given a flatulent 130 on an I.Q. test, he is brow beaten into believing that he is simple minded. This in itself, is not his greater liability. It becomes a severe handicap when it allows his focus to be outside of his own God-given ability and thus compels him to seek the advice of so-called "experts".
I have mentioned it before, but what can one say of the intelligence of a person I knew who "aced" each exam and received scholarships by the score to the U. of Chicago, but was unable to recognize that he was driving contrary to the signs on a one way street? What say you of a girl who scored 145 on an I.Q. test but spent her entire life in the penis hunting mode? Was she more intelligent than the girl with an I.Q. of 121 who graduates straight-A from a top level engineering school? Is a trailer park spread eagle mom, with an I.Q. of 156 more intelligent than one with an I.Q. of 98 who remained faithful to her husband and raised three children who didn't do the drug, alcohol and sex bit? Who is more intelligent, a graduate engineer with an I.Q. of 114 who couldn't fix the heating system in a church, or a man with unmeasured I.Q. who never finished grade 7, but who did fix the heating system? Who is the more valuable to a society, a 118 I.Q. liar and wimp or a 94 I.Q. man whose word is his bond and never falters in the face of adversity? Who would you like to be in the same trench with – a 90 I.Q. fighter or a 110 I.Q. coward?
All test scores do have value. They do indicate something. It's when we begin to place our faith in them as an absolute that it becomes a briar patch. Over the years, much of the credit I have received has been due to the men who worked under me for it was precisely they who were mostly responsible for providing me with the framework of my solutions. No matter what job I had, I ALWAYS sought input from the workers and I stand continually amazed at the "gut intelligence" most of them revealed. At one point, I received a rather large bonus check from my employer for solving a problem with the Bloomingdale adhesive system which was used in building aircraft trim tab assemblies. About 85 percent of the "solution" was due to the assistance of four workers. I simply divided the check among them for they deserved it and they had families while I was a single fellow with uncashed checks littering my desk drawer.
The young White male is generally a disaster educationally. Several authors have point out that, as a group, they have suffered the greatest from a grade standpoint. Females have always been more diligent than the male during their early years. It's biology that dictates this earlier responsibility. As a teacher with 25 years experience, this has always been considered, tolerated and allowed. There is something "in the air" today which is immensely disturbing and that is the strong tendency for young White males to go "savage" and imitate those of another species thus forsaking that unique attribute of the White man – inventiveness and a remarkable ability to solve problems of a universal nature. I have indicated to others, that this precipitous decline in what used to be "manhood" might be due in part to the fact that many of them really do not have men for fathers. It is decidedly against White male nature to "go with the flow" and the niggerization of our young simply could not happen without their consent. Perhaps it is because, deep inside, they feel that the society is decidedly anti White male which drives them to "go along". No matter what the root, it must end. There is little to be gained by sorting over the ashes, for causes, of a burned down building. It behooves each and every White youth to put his excuses away. Accept what IS and not what you had hoped it would be. You were probably short changed while a child but crying over it, like women and jews do, will not change it one iota. What's done is done. Get up and stay up. Toss away that idiotic baseball cap; rip up those rock concert tickets; cut off the alcohol and drugs; trash those savage emulating body rings; stop using women as a means to quench the fire of your erections; stand firm and BE WHITE. Once one soul can accomplish this, he'll be surprised at how many others will join in. I've seen it and experienced it. Vicki Martin was a standout. While at college dance, dozens were huddled around her asking for a dance. I remained aloof propped up against the opposite wall. Once spotted, she slowly approached me and asked for a dance. We enjoyed many days of ice skating and so on until I bid good-bye forever. She was one the the very many great girls who would have made a great wife but alas, I was just a young man with many Corvette miles to travel.
The American White youth yaps continually about individualism but practices it not. He, like his forbears in 1954 who couldn't decide if they liked the wrap around windshield on the Buick without a vote, adopts whatever the media bosses decide will be the next profitable fad. There is no honor in being used, whether as a target of some patriotism-for-profit shark, some deranged female, or the 'trend setters' who NEVER have YOUR INTERESTS at heart. You cannot be a man – the truest of all individuals – and be a pawn at the same time.
"The horse has disappeared," shouted observant Paul, "but Democracy is still rolling along." Professor Thud noted that perhaps they really didn't need the horse anyway since everything was still in motion. A heavy jolt was felt by all and that signaled the flipping of one wheel high into the air. "Hey," shouted Eugene, "look at how high the f---ing wheel went!" "Shucks," mumbled Herky the fag, "Democracy works. We probably had more wheels than we needed anyway." "Where's the bottle?" questioned Henry. Irene dictatorially yapped, "I'm getting sick and tired of you. Give me back my brassiere."
The wagon gained speed and the passengers busied themselves with cross word puzzles, sticking out their tongues at each other and occasionally "goosing" someone while pointing an accusing finger at another. Gene and Jean occupied themselves by calling each other names while Clint swooned at their demonstration of freedom of speech.
"Three wheels, no driver, and no horse, and yet we are still traveling to the Land of Nod," observed Gilbert. Helen responded, wondering who put sand in her cold cream, "It only proves that Democracy is the choice of Jesus." Henry burped and asked, "Where the f--- is Nod? Has my vote been counted yet?"
Josie noticed that although Joan's teeth were loose, his guitar was still playable. He strummed in cadence with Erika's voice and together, little by little, all of the passengers were exuberantly vocalizing, "God bless Democracy, freedom I love..." "I'll drink to that," yipped Henry.
Sam jumped up and ordered silence. Henry passed out. Sam then saluted Irene's flapping brassiere which Charlie has tied to the brake post. After giving out his favorite recipe for apple pie and then offering a prayer to his mom who died during an unexpected drug raid, Sam offered these encouraging words which he claimed God told him to utter. He passed the collection box and began:
"Here we are enjoying freedom as God told me we should. Joan, with her missing teeth and broken jaw, is protected by her right to privacy. Professor Thud is free to calculate how many nothings will add up to something and Al is taking advantage of the Second Amendment by blowing out the brains of every gopher and cow he spots. We're singing. We're happy and besides, we are progressing. No longer are we where we were. We are now somewhere else and we did it without a driver, without a horse and without that useless wheel which was probably made by Ford anyway (at this point Sam salutes Irene's brassiere again). We are progressing faster than we were when we were progressing slower and anytime our nation, indivisible and with liberty for all, can progress faster than we were before, we have a God-given duty to proclaim to the world that we have achieved a progressive state of progress.This we must extend to the teeming masses yearning to be free and if they object, we'll nuke the bastards off the face of the earth."
Gordon, from Monongahela, who previously was taking notes on Irene's sexual escapades offered, "Quite so. Quite so, but I don't think we are really here. We're not at the top of the gorge and we're not at the bottom of the gorge. So if we aren't at the top and we are not at the bottom, then we must be somewhere else. If we are somewhere else, we can't be here."
Overhead papa buzzard was schooling junior buzzard. "Don't you think it's foolish to be continually circling that Democratic wagon for it's little other than a progressing junk yard." Junior responded, "Yes, but they are dying and we shouldn't miss out on the feast."
"Listen closely," admonished papa buzzard, "may the good god Lollipop have mercy on them for they know not where they go. We have the advantage of predicting coming events from our position high in the sky. We can see that huge pile of rocks which lies in the path of the good ship Democracy and one does not have to be a locket scientist in order to know when it's dinner time. We'd best fly over there and wait. Supper will soon be on the table."
Democracy rumbled on. Henry woke up. All of them voted on what they thought the horse was doing now.
This is the type of thing I was referring to earlier when we were discussing the mood in Germany. From all I'm being told, there is a lot of public political posturing regarding "racism", but in reality it's only for foreign consumption. There is in reality, from what I'm hearing, increasing public sympathy and support for German nationalism and a "foreigners out" attitude. My buddy in the NPD tells me they have increased their dues paying (a nominal fee, yet nevertheless worthy of note) membership by over 100% in the last year, and the federal authorities are rapidly approaching the point of no return. The party is becoming so large that they are afraid of domestic repercussions should they attempt to outlaw it now. Text below.
Neo-Nazi Tormentors Get Light Sentences.
John Hooper in Berlin – Tuesday November 14, 2000
There was uproar in Germany yesterday after a court in the eastern city of Cottbus passed lenient sentences on 11 young neo-Nazis who last year hunted an asylum seeker to his death. Only three, who were convicted of manslaughter, were given jail terms – of just two to three years. Two were let off with warnings. The remaining six were given suspended sentences of between one and two years.
The outcome of the trial came as a big setback to the drive by the German government to clamp down on the far right and promote greater tolerance of foreigners.
Its campaign, which has won the backing of all Germany's mainstream parties, inspired a demonstration last week that brought more than 200,000 [this figure is completely scoffed at by a friend who saw it on television. He said he's seen more people at a minor league football (soccer) match] people on to the streets of Berlin in support of a multi-ethnic society.
The general secretary of the liberal Free Democrats, Guido Westerwelle, said: "I find it hard to take this sentence, even to the point of retaining my composure." Mr Westerwelle, who worked as a lawyer in the juvenile courts before entering politics, said the suspended sentences and warnings were "incomprehensible".
Farid Guendoul from Algeria died in the town of Guben near the Polish border in January 1999. He had hurled himself through the glass door of a house to get away from his pursuers and severed an artery at the knee. He bled to death in 15 minutes.
During the trial, the court heard how the defendants had set out to catch a Cuban they suspected of carrying out a machete attack on one of their associates.
The judge in his summing up acknowledged that their manhunt was well-prepared: three cars were used, and the defendants coordinated their movements by mobile telephone.
After they failed to find their intended victim, they embarked on an indiscriminate anti-foreigner rampage. Screaming "We'll get you all!" and "Hate! Hate! Hate!", the defendants threw paving stones at an Asian corner shop and a Vietnamese restaurant before targeting Mr. Guendoul and two other asylum seekers.
The trial and the circumstances surrounding it reeked of tolerance for the activities of the neo-Nazi right.
In court, the defendants felt free to pull faces, insult witnesses and deride evidence. Their lawyers held up the proceedings with a flood of objections that dragged out the hearing for 17 months.
The speaker of the lower house of parliament, Wolfgang Thierse, called the delays "scandalous".
Only one defendant pleaded guilty. He was subsequently beaten up in a disco
His co-defendants got a foretaste of the outcome when one of them was convicted of beating up an immigrant while still on trial. He was ordered to pay DM500 (£150) to charity.
Other defendants were alleged to have tried to destroy a memorial to Mr. Guendoul while the trial was in progress. It has been defaced five times since it was put up.
One of the two men hunted with Mr. Guendoul later lost his right to stay in Germany on the grounds that he was no longer mentally fit to manage his life by himself. However, he and his lawyer maintained that this was because of the trauma he had undergone as a result of the manhunt.
After Mr. Thierse publicly criticised the regional authorities who had taken the decision, the man was granted permission to stay.
The victim's brothers announced that they intended to lodge an appeal against the sentences. But their lawyer said they did not have the funds needed to pursue the case further.
The lawyer added: "They are shocked. They had believed that would get a just outcome from Germany, as a state governed by the rule of law".
Dr. Torah does promote her set of jew-in-the-sky religious values plus the old black magic called "love". When "love" provides a path of which she does not approve, she shifts into another gear and issues vocal vibrations about "the children." Children, as far as I can ascertain, is any blob of immature protoplasm whether hideous, diseased, malformed or not.
Love, as it might still be known among the more sensitive, has nearly vanished from our society. Today, physical contact between male and female is based mainly on estrus and exhibited on the perpetual stage of 'springtime in the kennels'. So-called recreational sex, and true love with sex as a partial expression, simply cannot coexist anymore than a stable construction can coexist with 666 colonies of termites. It is no coincidence that where love has disappeared – the rock concert/MTV drug gang – so has all other natural emotions including hate (I do not consider self-pity a natural emotion since it has an anti survival aspect). It might appear that the anti anti race-mixing crowd is full of hate for those who do not believe that a world of dysfunctional and diseased mud people represents an improvement in the condition of life on this planet. What they express is a perverted form of fear whereby they wish to destroy all of those who refuse to swim in, and drink from, the sewer of 'diversity'. The Natural Law, that is God's Law, is evident throughout the planet whether one examines a butterfly or a buttercup. The botched are always disposed of because they are an adulterant to everything beautiful and healthy. The commandment "Thou shalt not commit adultery" meant that one's blood line should not become adulterated – contaminated with the blood of another race (species). There is another commandment about coveting the wife of another and certainly many harsh dictates about fornication. Noah, as we remember, was saved because he was pure in his generations and that didn't mean that they bathed daily with Ivory soap.
I sometimes stand amazed at people who get excited or depressed over some tidbit appearing on TV. If they can keep in mind that Hollywood and the TV networks are propaganda arms of our anti-Nature, anti-White government – not directly, but indirectly as I have pointed out – then they can put all of the bologna on the proper shelf. I personally can stand only so much of the ugly-nigger-in-your-face scenes and the continual sobbing of 'God's chosen'. What sad and pathetic people they all are – these non-Whites – for they have to fantasize and fabricate and invert everything concerning themselves so as to believe that they are really worthwhile. For those with the "glasses" to see, it is a very sorry sight but that should not deter us one moment from the truth – for no matter what they express, enemies they remain.
The Source: Der Reichsführer SS und Chef der Deutschen Polizei, Was tue ich im Ernstfall? Eine Aufklärungsschrift für das Deutsche Volk (Berlin: Verlag Hermann Hilliger, 1940), pp. 21-23.
In modern warfare, weapons, the economy, physical resources and organization play a role. So too do spirit and soul.
A new and sinister weapon is used against a nation's spiritual strength: Propaganda! Germany lost the World War of 1914-19 because it did not recognize the danger of enemy propaganda. It collapsed spiritually.
That may not and will not happen again. Enemy propaganda wants to break the German people's will to resist by slanders, rumors, suspicions, and with political, military, or simply general lies.
The methods of enemy propaganda include: leaflets appeals, false pictures, atrocity stories, rumors, radio incitement and systematic complaining. All those who are reached by enemy propaganda and have their will to victory reduced by it, whether consciously or unconsciously, are tools of enemy propaganda.
Complainers and grumblers, doubters and agitators are the enemy's spiritual Foreign Legionnaires amidst the German people. It is often only a short step from doubting the justice of one's cause to the complete collapse of the will to resist. The World War proved this!
How do I respond to enemy propaganda?
If I encounter enemy propaganda in word, print, picture, radio, in conversation about the news or through rumors, it depends on my intelligence and good sense whether or not I render it ineffective. I immediately collect the enemy propaganda material and explain what it is to citizens who have come in contact with it.
I know that the greatest danger of enemy propaganda is in the phrase: "There must be some truth in it."
I am careful in all my conversations and correspondence. Letters and conversations could reach the enemy and provide him with material.
I strengthen the will to victory of citizens who may be wavering.
If I encounter citizens who are being overcome by enemy propaganda, I confront them direcly and make clear to them the enormous danger they face, appealing to their sense of honor.
Anyone who becomes a tool of enemy propaganda and contributes to weakening our spiritual strength places himself outside the national community. He should not be surprised if he is treated as an enemy of the people and of the state. If all my warnings are in vain, I do my duty and turn him over to the authorities.
I actively oppose enemy propaganda whenever I encounter it. I also do this with foreigners and friends abroad whom I talk with or write to. If I have German propaganda material at hand, I include it in my letters.
If I find or am given enemy propaganda material, I quickly write in large, clear letters "Enemy propaganda" on it and turn it over immediately to the nearest police station.
I do not show such enemy propaganda material to strangers.
I obey all regulations against listening to foreign radio stations, not only because there are severe penalties but also because I view it as an obvious patriotic duty.
I know that enemy propaganda material is an enemy method of warfare.
Enemy Propaganda is poison!
He who falls for it is lost.
(Contributed by A.B.)
Note: If you don't recognize enemy propaganda, then you probably don't watch TV. – RF
This is the home page of FAEM by Robert Frenz. It was a public journal before the term “web log” was invented. Since Frenz’s death in May 2003 this collection of over 1,200 pages is maintained by the Heretical Press, Yorkshire, England. Frenz’s pithy and perceptive commentary on events occurring between 2000 and 2003, combined with many illuminating anecdotes from his rich and varied life, gained him a keen audience. Though a chemist and mathematician Robert Frenz was above all a teacher, and he is missed by many.