All George Webb's Nazis and mine

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqLcFW--5IM
Thursday Night Trio with McDuff, Webb & Hamamoto (2021-08-26)
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John OLoughlin, George Webb & Professor Darrell Hamamoto update the audience on their research they've been doing in the past week.

transcript 45th minute ....
" .. tested on the battlefield, and now they're attenuated and turned down, and used in a more low intensity fashion, on populations, that's the basic idea, and there's a universal vaccine for the top guys .... 44:44 the same thing that happened with all the nazis, the labour camps, which were all about drug manufacturing and missile manufacturing, the platform and the payload have happened in different forms, inside our institutions, fort Detrick, fort Belvoir, etcetera and the testing has happened on US soldiers"


'all the nazis' george?? ... suggesting there are several flavors working in unison? it certainly does noway nohow indicate the leaders were religious wolves or mouse experiment type 'psyhauntists' in sheeps clothing and labcoats organizing a mass sacrifice of those the manage to target via the pretense to be part of them, which IS what happened ... George. But you need that zogtool charmed existence bonafide that keeps if not your spirits, at least your channels up .. Djordzj. Try prove a jew likes to crawl around in white skin here and there George, .. godda make your masters nervous to increase your atlantICYST gajus gage


apropo "labour camps" ....VERSUS apprenticeships and studies abroad
long rant written in 1998 .. it's on the first page [quote below]
21Mb pdf = 1959 [margin to margin] pages with notes, quotes and comment[ thread]s from 80s to 2016)
https://archive.org/details/a-quest-for-ethics

21st of may 2003 i post and comment on the Featherstone review of 'Nazi-psychoanalysis [the trilogy by Rickels, .. who just released another one btw, via punctumbooks with a free pdf version included .. or separate if you wish, never releasing his B-movie fetish from his lockjaw, not being too chjewsy you see] in the main indynewswire and the DC one

Neither google nor ddg churn up my blogspot post with the first [EBay] cover image i ever found any longer, but there are other commercial versions meanwhile ...
http://indexterity.blogspot.com/2010/05/word-about-sword-issue.html

june 1st 2011 in a long letter to AndrewL .. p239 of:
https://archive.org/details/happy-nationalism-jewideyots
12.5Mb PDF [1082 pages]

20th of july 2015 .... etcetera


Fashism is a form of impatience (inability to deal with patience) and misplaced, unfreeing coercion which nevertheless reserves impunity for itself. Funny enough, in 1917, the book 'Das deutsche volk in schwerer zeit' (Bartsch) shows Excalibur on its cover sitting in the sun and in a rock, a plant has grown from where this most famous sword disappears into (and/or emerges from) the glowing spot on top of it. The whole faintly reminiscent of cross on Gogoltha pictures; it is the gem of symbolism since it shows a cycle of life that is a whole lot less cryptic than the Yin-Yang sign. Could some art student retrieve the artist and study him and his juncture in time at least a little further please?  This image not only tells the story of what it takes to get metal out of rock, but also what this metal can do to justify its existence, namely balance the accounts and help plantgrowth, cause rock may not only contain forgable melted metal ore which once extracted and concentrated can turn around and make more such rock 'bleed' but at the same time his 'Nachschub', an inorganic line of descent is secured, use the 'offal' to feed life, by piercing and crumbling it; a crusher/spreader is a /broomstick/caduceus/torqued coil/strainer, a kind of femininely modified sword just like a football is a benign cross between fruit and cannonball.   On the picture in question the sword evidently sat in the movingly stirred, freed and loosened loot material, like a lover reluctant to withdraw, long enough for a vine, growing from the redhot (signifying metal's origin more than result of its use) spot where the sword emerged from the rock, to have meantime gratefully absorbed sustenance (thanks to the such enabling grate-mate metal movements of and as rock's own concentrated force, come as focussed son to free and predeem his widely dispersed organic ancestry and inorganic progeny at once). Plant and sword entwine, for the vine has climbed the sword like a child around its father's now resting leg. So the slightly sequence garbled and conflated message of the book's cover seems to be: rigid and strong yet dynamic sword (the one Jesus hoped for and was merely symbolized by the cross) crossbred, insexually fucking with slightly less rigid and  immobile death (in the guise of rock) equals life.   The paradox of the flag which doesn't cover (except physically) what the cargo constitutes is a particularly blunt and blatant one cause over against, or rather, contained under the confusing and already contradictious and miragelike depiction of a plant growing from fresh, red hot (reminds me of Hensel's  theory that the sun is a ball of glowing..) ashes we find an eyewitness report of forced labour in prisoner of war camps complete with philosophy of making life richer, cleaner, happier and more productive, in short, livelyer at the writers (a visiting officer from Austria who wrote a novel describing the Jews their undying ambition as well) 'good' side of the front, almost the very absolute opposite, dualistic deamon and mirror image of what concentration camps are famous for, almost, cause not exactly voluntary either, (though sounding like it for and from the captured yet converted nationals, amongst whom the English were the most incorrigible and ungrateful of course).  So although the (to me mesmerizing) cover doesn't incorporate or embody the obvious, simple and symbolic essences which Arthurian romance with all its connotations of the King and the land being one (Hermann Keyserling used to say that the entire west attempts to conquer inertia; lawfully flawless logos trying to pre- and represent subjects cap- and objectivatingly), subscribe to, it nevertheless displays them conspicuously on the surface, rather than spun and strung out in and from its substance.  We 've had fights about metal more than anything, fights with metal seem on their way out, and fights about water probably are an all time favorite to come if social inertia decides: steady as we go. The book mentions well kept and nutritious gardens, good wages are a theme as well but the connections and true causes of lethal friction, the perverted and symbolicized currencies for instance, are passed over in silence.    A  few funny and tragic things happened last summer which give me evidence of (and hope for the worthwileness of a struggle with), my influence on the desired direction; more superficial and shallow penetration here (rub rocks for fresh faces), profounder absorption there (chew vitalized and -ing fruit).  I used to sing upon entering the park, happy to see green rather than a computer screen, and when I saw the tramp who stuck it out under a so often graffitied and lit up overpass that it must be the most totally toxified spot in the park, all through 2 winters now, it went something like this at the top of my voice (to take advantage of the bridge acoustics): a satire song I sing, it's about the undercover king, he's going for the steadyest thing, one with the land is the king.  Later that summer I found that the rumour had been misinterpreted and spread, making it all the way into the paper The Vondel monument proves propitious for publicity cause in '97 a Herald Tribune journalist caught me throwing an empty clean labelless coke bottle high and straight up into the air before screaming while catching it again and letting it down to the ground: " What's coming down to us here?      Ha, that's not a coke bottle, it's a beam of light, an emissary of redeeming mercy, come to fondle, fetch and frame some specks of dust a little closer to homey heaven (not in so many words though). He wrote a blurb for their weekly supplement called the Netherlander where he made me out to be an American exorcising the evil spirits from the coke bottle.  The other evidence was my first Net published poem (on page two) ending on tell, well, spell, hell, shell, etc. The trouble Shell oil got into that fall was something I flattered myself with by claiming at least catalytic synchronicity presence, wavecrest and whipcrack credit for it. It motivated me to go ahead and dump all of my work on the net,