I wonder of amusing things, such as the settings of my computer monitor turning green at times in 2009 when I spoke of Obama ghetto green vomit.
I wonder of things such as my computer settings becoming German, when I start speaking German.
All hard settings, and yet they automatically set by the watchful protocols of Baby and the apes, along with the overseer.
It is esoteric that plasma minds find me such a fascinating persona, that the demon machine gnashes over, and the human population is either cowering in fear over or trying in that mad panic to dismiss the subjects of Revelation here which the minds of mice can not afford to comprehend.
There is a point in this in the open Jewish warfare against the Neoprog when Nancy Pelosi literally states that the rich Jew for his better pound of flesh deal will vote for Mitt Romney over Barack Obama on July 30th.
This translates completely to the moving by Matt Drudge and key Jews on the right and left, egging Barack Obama to venture to set foot in the Israeli state and egging Barack Obama for not doing it, as this Marxist and Capitalist Jewish dogma has united for a reason of what the secular Jew bought in 2008 in designer negro Barry Chin is the 2012 negro property they can liquidate on demand.
Read the words of Jewish poet, Karl Wolfskehl, the son of German Jewish aristocrats. A poet whose words inspired Germans to strike out to assassinate Adolf Hitler. The words which the German elite spoke of in the Secret Germany on their dying lips, and the same lips which this Jew was praising the virtue of the German war machine in racist sluts against Slavs, and appearing to hint that God created the necessary war, they were the powers which Bismark hinted at which were Rotshchild guiding this destruction of Germany.
*Another Reply to Rolland* *By Karl Wolfskehl.* To you, Rolland, belonging as a chosen one to the more important Frenchmen who can rise above their race, the German nature has often been revealed. To you, now, we shall make answer, offer frank testimony concerning the spirit of the time, concerning that fate, that very fate in which you, the Frenchman, do not believe. You do not believe in it; what to us is fate, mysterious necessity, to you is fatalité, an unavoidable Alp which threatens the individual in his individual freedom. This fatalité, we, too, do not believe in it, but we do believe in the forces which bring forth the eternal in human will, that these both are one, will and forces, one with necessity, with actuality, with creative, moral power, of which all great ideas are the children, the idea of freedom, the idea of the beautiful, the idea of tragic fidelity, and that these, reaching far above being and passing away, are nevertheless real, life entire, fact entire. All that which is as dear to you as to us, great works and great feelings, resignation and self-restraint, all that is necessity, is fate, that became will--all that a unity out of choice and compulsion. All that is for us eternal, not according to the measure of time, but according to the beginning and the power of its working forces, in so far as it is necessary. Thus has it become fate, destiny, not fatalité, rather like that fate which in Beethoven's own words in the first movement of his "Eroica" "is the knocking at the gate." Such a fate is this war. No one wanted it in our Germany, for it was forced upon us with terrible arbitrariness, contrary to all right. Do you not know of the net that has been spun around us and drawn tight for the last half of a generation, to choke us? Do you not know how often this most peaceful of peoples has drawn back, how often the strange powers in the East and in the West have with contemptuous snarls said, "Wilhelm will not make war"? That you ought to know, Rolland, for it is known to the whole world. *The War "Came from God."* But I will betray something to you that you cannot know, because you are a stranger; and this will probably show you where we see fate. I will betray to you the fact that there is still another Germany behind the exterior in which great politics and great finance meet with the literary champions of Europe. That Germany tells you in this heavy hour of Europe: This undesired war that has been forced upon us is nevertheless a necessity; it had to come to pass for the sake of Germany and the world of European humanity, for the sake of the world. We did not want it, but it came from God. Our poet knew of it. He saw this war and its necessity and its virtues, and heralded it, long before an ugly suspicion of it flew through the year--before the leaves began to turn. The "Stern des Bundes" ["Star of the Federation"] is this book of prophecy, this book of necessity and of triumph. The present need and the present triumph are quite human and quite inexorable. They have a part in all that has taken place, and they are unprecedented and new. None of us--do you hear, Rolland?--none of us Germans today would hesitate to help destroy every monument of our holy German past, if necessity made it a matter of the last ditch, for that from which alone all monuments of all times draw their right of existence and their worth unless they are empty husks, skeletons, and framework; even so, we alone may ask what shall come to pass, not what shall cease. Which ruins are ravings, and which are the pains of childbirth, we do not presume to decide; but you, too, who are so pained by ruins, even as we are pained by them, you, too, do not know it. Today it is a question of the life or death of the European soul. Do you not believe that this soul is more endangered at the hands of the hordes of stub-nosed Slavs than of the phalanx of those whom you, Rolland, call Huns? Your sense must give you the right to answer. Recall the terrible story of Russian incendiarism for the last hundred years, which has torn to pieces in ever-increasing lust for murder bodies and souls; recall the eternally perjured and law-defying regiment of grave diggers; and then blush that you have characterized as a heavy crime a manfully confessed act of self-defense on the part of the Germans, the temporary occupation of Belgium! Blush that you have forgotten the Russian Moloch now loosed upon us, drunk with the blood and tears of alien peoples as well as of its own children! That you have forgotten all that, in order to lament over buildings which we have been forced in self-defense--again in self-defense--to sacrifice! And blush for those of your people who have become accomplices of that Moloch! Those who are sinning against the Holy Ghost of Europe, in order to attempt belated vengeance against Germany! Do you know what the ancients, the very Greeks and Romans from whom you have drawn your blood and temperament, called that sin? Blood-guiltiness is the name of that horror. And do you know how it is atoned for? I shrink to ask further, yea, even to think further; for horror falls upon me, and I see the unspeakable. Today, battling against you allies of the swarms of Muscovites, we Europeans are battling also for that France which you are threatening--you, not we! *German Intellectuals "All Afire."* Yes, Romain Rolland, try, Frenchman that you are, to look into the mysteries of the time. Ask yourself, marvel, how it comes to pass that we, the intellectuals among the Germans, take part without exception in this dreadful war; take part with body and soul. None of us ambitious, none of us a politician, not one of us who, till this war, busied himself about anything except his idea, the Palladium of his life! And now we are all afire, with all our hearts, with our whole people, all full of determination and prepared for the last. All our youth in the field, every man among us thrilled with faith in our God and this battle of our God, every man among us conscious of the sacred necessity that has driven us, every man among us consecrated for timely death! Are these incendiaries? Are these slaves, whom a despot points the way to the rolling dead? Every one knows it is our all that is at stake; it is a matter of the divine in humanity, a matter of our preservation and that of Europe. And so we stand amid death and ruins under the star--one federation, one single union. This I have had to tell you, whether you will listen to it, whether Europe has ears to hear it, or not. From now on, may our deeds be our words!
This is epic and I'm in Inspiration telling you children something if you can find the weave of this garment.
This poet is Andrew Breivik in the same warning he was issuing in Norway. For those who do not comprehend Molech which the German Jew speaks, this is of Biblical nature in a demon worshipped which people burned their children alive to honor.
This was the sin which God divorced the 13 tribes over instituted by King Manasseh.
For you American children of the Joseph line, this same aborticide national sin will be visited upon you as all national sins are in recompense.
Karl Wolfskehl was one of the elite German poets who fled to through Europe to New Zealand. His epic public defense of Germany is something overlooked by the Nazi who do not want to deal with Jews were supporting their Germany and the Ashkenaz who can not deal with the reality that the German Aristocratic Jews were just as Talmudic racially charged with national pride and knowing of the secret ruling classes they supported.
You children who do not comprehend the Enigma of Lame Cherry, really should ask God for Wisdom to understand this as He gives freely, but Wisdom is taught with a rod which is not going to allow you to be the sloven mind dwarfs you are in not exercising your minds. You would rather be told some re eaten vomit puked out for you in cartel talking points for you to natter on about as it makes your genitals swell in thrill.
I have been writing about something months in advance. Baby is speaking of what she is hearing.
The cartel's hands are all over what is coming and cementing into place by the Purim, the casting of the lot.
Lame Cherry
lamecherry.blogspot.com/12 hours ago – In this, this is another Lame Cherry jove doctrine, which proves once again just how ant the population is not thinking out of the box, and how ...
It is all in the poetic praise in the rage and ravages of war, all Germanic Assyrian united in World War I, World War II and World War III.
Anyone who has ever walked around the flame
Stay trabant the flame!
As he wanders and stray:
Where have you reached him seemingly
He never wanders too far from the target.
But when his eye she lost
And his own light it is deceptive:
Lacks law of the center
He drives dispersed and scattered ave
What is this lure of conjurors chant
Which appeals and peals of enticing rant
To invite their changeling to purchased home
From Berlin to seven hill Rome
Changeling Changeling burning bright
I wish I may, I wish I might
Wish upon this crimson rite
Burning, burning tiger bright
Three little wars filling all the earth
Cutting pounds of flesh to the meaty worth
Carved there virgin in sacrafice
Oh the religion of men and mice.
What the order gives the order takes away.
agtG 222
