Apr 27, 2010

To be a German (Part 3): Every Jew, somewhere in his being, should set apart a zone of hate...


Albrecht Duerer  Knight, Death & Devil Etching AD 1513

To be a German (Part 3)

Michael Colhaze

April 27, 2010 

Every Jew, somewhere in his being, should set apart a zone of hate — healthy virile hate — for what the German personifies and for what persists in the German.

Elie Wiesel, Nobel Prize winner and "chief witness" to the Holocaust

And the Truth will see the Light of Day

Even if it takes a long, long Way.

German Nursery Rhyme

The legacy of Hitler's Third Reich swirled through post-war Germany's bloodstream like a resistant variant of the common flu. It called for a powerful antidote, which was duly administered in form of a rigorous re-education. Manifest as a faint but persistent headache and the occasional noisy sneeze, passed its pathogenic advance widely unnoticed but continued relentlessly until the nation's intellectual fabric had been thoroughly overhauled from the kindergarten onwards. No university curriculum without the politically correct corset, no official sermon without implicit or explicit mea culpa, no history book without glorifying the courageous Allies as the saviours of humanity. And the pedantic, ponderous, humourless German top gazettes wallowing at least once a week in the brown mud. Small wonder that a cerebral palsy, an academic fustiness befell the land that was the result of omissions, half-truths and downright lies. Take the following example. 

The murder of ethnic Germans in territory lost to Poland after World War I  was triggered by Hitler's invasion.

Dr. Martin Broszat, Director of the Munich Institute for History, 1961

Whereas millions of displaced Germans could tell an entirely different story. Namely that already in 1921, and shortly after large parts of the German Empire had been annexed by Poland as part of the perfidious Versailles treaties, Germans under Polish rule were murdered in a clear attempt at ethnic cleansing. In 1927 nearly the whole town of Rybnic in Upper Silesia was massacred in cold blood, and from then on the killings became endemic until, a few months before the invasion, Poland had officially established two concentration camps in Polowanie and Niemcow for her ethnic Germans. 


When Hitler's troops crossed the border, massacres happened in Bromberg (remembered as the infamous Bromberg Blood Sunday) and many other parts of Poland, perpetrated by the military, police and paramilitary youth groups, and documented with photos of bestialities that defy the imagination. All this while Hitler had repeatedly tried to secure peacefully a narrow passage through ancient German lands that would connect the Reich proper with its old and beautiful Hanse city of Danzig. A demand the Poles steadfastly denied, cock-sure of themselves because of their British guarantees. We know what happened to those, and won't shed a tear because they weren't worth the paper written on. Danzig is now Gdansk, famous for the Solidarnosc of Lech Walesa, and you'll be hard put to find an ethnic German anywhere far or near.

German woman murdered in a Polish massacre (with her dead baby hanging half out of her womb)  source:  Dr. Dietmar Nix

Falsifying, denying or ignoring historical truth has continued to this day. The German translation of Patrick Buchanan's Unnecessary War, a cool and objective accumulation of facts if ever there was one, and a cracker that should have gone off with some noise among German politicians, historians and journalists, passed studiously unnoticed by every newspaper except the Sueddeutsche Zeitung, which run a scorcher of such malicious inanity that made it almost farcical. 

Another fine example is the present hate campaign against Benedict XVI, the Catholic Church and, by extension, against the Christian world as a whole. Fanned by the foremost agitprop outlets, was the assault even joined by Germany's ponderous and unimaginative chancelloress who advised the spiritual leader of more than a billion believers to come clean, while prattling to her tired compatriots about our terrible war guilt without mentioning anybody else.  

These are moments when one begins to despair of the elected leaders, and prays for a return of the Good King, helped along by his fearless and honourable Knights Templars, with a few regional Princes of noble ethical bloodline thrown in to keep an eye on the situation. 


I have serious reservations as to the Pope's policies of celibacy, birth control and immigration. But I can't help feeling a cold anger rising at the venomous slanderers who dare to accuse Christendom's foremost leader of covering up sins that were perpetrated in AD 1950, long before he was even ordained. Particularly when it is well known among his followers that he was installed by the previous Pope with the explicit mission to clean out the stable. Which isn't easy if you remember that there are only a few black sheep among the hundreds of thousand priests in the whole world who do their job with decency, even love.  

Recently, when I looked him up on Yahoo for a reference, the absolute first heading I found was called Creepy Pictures of Pope Benedict XVI. On a site called ANORAK a few photos are displayed of which I saw only the first, namely the smiling Holy Father blessing a child. It must be indeed a sad world where a small act of compassion can be interpreted as creepy. But then again we are well aware of who owns Yahoo, and Google, and you name it.   


Handcuffed Rabbis, NY 2009 

Which is probably the reason why we rarely hear of Rabbis who got caught, like in Antwerp, with tons of Ecstasy made in Israel, a drug of the worst kind that literally destroys the brains of our young in no time at all. Or Rabbis dealing with organs of dubious provenance, like in New York. Or a Rabbi raping a seven year old girl, in ditto. Or a Rabbi, military him, who assures his IDF soldiers that killing Palestinian women and children is god's will.  

What kind of god that one might be can be only surmised.

Which, at a remove, brings us to Germany's saddest and most overwhelming collective feature. As once in Auschwitz, it hangs above the nation like a big back cloud and has found its rightful and emphatic place in the country's educational curriculum, its press, its politics, its everything. We call it, though unfortunately not the younger generation anymore, our Unconquered Past. A past which has led most of the world to believe that Germans, and Germans only, are genetically predisposed for organized mass murder, as opposed to composing Schubert's Ave Maria on the other side of the pale. Both positions, by the way, were unequivocally confirmed only a few years back by the great globalist Roger Cohen of the NYT, one of the most eloquent advocates of America's sell-out to China et al.  

Now you have smoked me out long since and know what I am talking about.

Even while I have never, at least consciously, harboured the faintest doubt about the Holocaust's historical truth, there were moments when I wondered why the cataclysm was so attractive to people who didn't seem particularly impressed by the continuing onslaught of the assorted world media. I have an old acquaintance from schooldays who turned into one of those construction sharks that plaster every available spot of nature with their concrete castles. About as sentimental as his bricks, did he regale his many clients for Christmas with one of the myriad Holocaust yarns, bound in extra-fine leather and hand-signed by its grateful author who pocketed of course a fistful of cash. Which brought me to the realization that this particular cataclysm seems to act as a kind of vague moral license, an indistinct carte blanche, for anything from destroying nature, ripping-off investors or murdering children with phosphor bombs. Because whatever crime committed, it couldn't be as bad as what the Germans have done in their darkest hour.     

The Holocaust had its advent sometimes in the mid Fifties, and from then on the Jews of this world, particularly those of Germany, became a saintly tribe of martyrs cocooned in boundless compassion. Their antics made every Christian heart beat faster, their exploits became a blazing paragon for the rest of the prostrate Occident. With Germany leading the fray by a mile and a half. Or better, with 300.000.000.000,00 hard Deutschmarks and rising, paid over the years to the many miraculous survivors. Three hundred billion, in case all those zeros make your eyes swimming. Which is of course the case with all those stupefied German taxpayers who, groaning already under an ever increasing tax load, watched dumbfounded as the sell-out of their native lands and assets continued unabated. 

As to the saintliness, it was occasionally marred by minor mishaps. Like a Mossad hit team mistakenly gunning down an innocent bystander. Or a private investment bank succumbing to a Ponzi scheme that left its clients in the cold, including Germany's foremost political commentator and Israel supporter who became somewhat mum after his and his children's savings had gone up in smoke. Or the president of the Jewish cupola in Germany being accused of massive embezzlement. Or its vice-president jailed for cocaine dealing and underage-white-girl slaving. Or other occasions like these. Not to mention the continuing plight of the Palestinians who somehow managed to stay in the news. Mishaps not really serious, but more like the proverbial hair in the soup. They soured relations for a while, yet never for long. And in any case, who were we Germans to throw the first stone? Because if we did, as we sometimes dared to do, all Hell broke loose and we got clobbered with our collective guilt until black and blue in the face.  

Which happened as a rule, and rightly so, to the so-called revisionists, namely a small band of dumb fascists, stubborn neo-Nazis or, most hated, demented historians with a reputation of professional excellence. Had it been solely for them, whatever doubts existed should have slowly disappeared, blown over by time and forgetfulness. But apparently there was, though only marginally, more to it. Or to use a simile, it felt as if you watched a calm and starlit sea on a balmy night, and noticed a sudden eddy, and knew that something had just passed close to the surface and took a look at you. Something dark and enormous and without a name.  

It is true that even I, during a small personal crisis that must have acted as a kind of catalyst, began to doubt for a moment the whole terrible tale. This happened when I read somewhere that it had been pulled off without a single written order. 

To tell you the truth, it really made me frown for a moment. Because if I know something with absolute certainty, it is that we Germans love our Red Tape. No hiccup, cough or fart without a major bureaucratic exertion that states aroma, size, duration, time of day, date and weather conditions, backed up by protocols, assessments, historical comparisons and judicial footnotes in case of accident, all with twenty copies, each stamped ten times and signed by at least five independent superiors. A few years back I had the absurd idea to open a miniscule dependence of my Italian business in Munich, with the result that I was inundated with an avalanche of official affidavits sent by legions of official agencies whose innumerable officials wanted to know everything from my dog's birthday to my grandmother's infidelities, and who told me in endless big and small print of what to do and what not to do, at what time to do it and at what time not to do it, and how to do it and how not to do it, and help me God if I didn't do it. Which made me for once loose my temper and send it all back with the advice to push it up their backside while omitting a return address.   

As to my doubts, they were soon forgotten when I read the only logical explanation for this mystery, brilliantly put forward by Raul Hilberg, the Holocaust's most eminent historian.  

What began in 1941 was a process of destruction not planned in advance, not organized centrally by an agency. There was no blueprint and there was no budget for destructive measures. They were taken step by step, one step at a time. Thus came about not so much a plan being carried out, but an incredible meeting of minds, a consensus - mind reading by a far-flung bureaucracy.


Far-flung indeed! I could not help thinking in a somewhat macabre aside. We amazing consensus - mind reading Germans! No wonder we are good car makers!


And to disperse any doubts that might still linger anywhere at the back of your mind, allow me to quote the following.


Ninety-nine per cent of what we know about the Holocaust we do not actually have the physical evidence to prove . . . it has become part of our inherited knowledge.


A statement unleashed by Professor Jan van Pelt, him of theWaterloo University and leading authority on Auschwitz, in a recent interview with the Toronto Star.


Where he pleaded for razing the whole compound, since according to him it had outlived its purpose. Which seems a rather good idea, particular with hindsight to future historians who might wonder why the historical authenticity of every fact he has brought forward so far, inherited parts apart, can be verified with only one percent out of a hundred. A ratio that could turn into a problem once his time has come and the salvation of his soul will be refused after being weighed and found wanting, namely of ninety nine percent. 


Prof. Van Pelt (in a pensive mood)


That apart, I'm afraid the Poles won't play ball. And why should they, pocketing all those millions of hard Euro every year by awing their visitors with the one gas chamber they built themselves in 1948, in lieu of the real ones which couldn't be made out to this day on the Allied air photos.   

To round off the picture I should like to add someone's personal testimony, and since I was so free to highlight Germany's plight by quoting a particular gentleman at the beginning of my little essay, shall I stick to him as a somewhat colourful though certainly fascinating witness to the most terrible crime ever committed in human history. Yet before I pay him all the honours he deserves, let me wax a little philosophical.  

If we compare the condition humaine to an upright ladder, then its highest rungs reach straight into that shimmering realm where God the Father, God the Son and the most beautiful Goddess, His Mother, have their Divine Abode. Though a sphere beyond human imagination, has its Essence long since been revealed to us. It is called Love.


Love with a capital L. A mundane attitude, a perennial philosophy, a divine principle, an all-encompassing sentiment. Love of goodness, Love of truth, Love of justice. Love for the sad, poor and downtrodden. Love for a tree, a butterfly, a sunset, a dog, a child. Love between two lovers. Or, to cast it into one single and glorious phrase, Love for God. 


Whereas the lowest rungs appear to be radically different. Here, shrouded into stinking sulphur, with a reddish flicker at the very Heart of Darkness, lurk mankind's most hideous desires, most criminal ambitions, most putrid fantasies, most terrible perversions. An abode we know perfectly well, because it is strictly manmade, just as its supreme ruler, the Devil. Whose essence is Hate.


Love vs. Hate, therefore, and both are the outmost antipoles of human existence.


Which, by the way, helps you finally to understand why those who blatantly and ruthlessly disseminate Hate in this world are protected by our politically correct Hate Laws.


Back to our witness. Like the president of the USA, at present the world's foremost peace monger with an eye on more, is Mr. Elie Wiesel (a German noun meaning weasel) another recipient of that remarkable distinction, namely the Nobel Price for Peace. An honour that made him of course a ten times more reliable witness than before, which was only five times. I have read his many books again and again. They are compelling and, more often, heart rendering, and I'm therefore able to add some details which the casual reader my have overlooked. But loath to bore the latter with too many details, shall I stick only to Mr. Weasel's extraordinary Calvary's most important details, namely his various elopements from the assorted Nazi death camps.      

His fourth and last escape was pulled off, where else, in Auschwitz proper (NY Post 23 Oct. 1986, and NYT 4 Jan. 1987) where he absconded with the help of five hundred and something moles whose queen he had seduced (she the famous Lily Marleen of the Smooth Black Fur in his latest, and hopefully final, autobiography) with a pledge of illegal Antwerp diamonds. The beasts dug a tunnel, three miles and a half long, through which he robbed to freedom. Previously he had turned his back on Buchenwald (NYT 2 Nov. 1986) where, after reading Dante's entire Comedia Divina in Yiddish, he talked a bunch of beavers into gnawing through the floorboards by promising them a batch of Goldman Sachs sub-prime bonds while knowing already that chief Blankfein was betting against them. Before that one he had jumped Dachau (Jewish Telegraphic Agency 11 Apr. 1983) with the assistance of a she-wolf who scared the SS guards to death and later, deep in the Carpathian Forests, fed him her own milk until he felt better. Though sadly, after some years, and since she was rumoured to have German grandparents on the paternal side, he developed a Freudian hate complex towards her that made him cease sending the customary Christmas cards.

Now this is, you will unconditionally agree, already rather interesting. But it gets even better. Because his absolutely first and most spectacular escape, the one he has so far kept to himself, happened in the tiny hamlet of Oberammergau, Bavaria, during the summer of 1940. In this lovely Alpine marvel every ten years a famous Passion Play is enacted by the villagers themselves, recounting Christ's life from entering Jerusalem to His Resurrection. While preparations were underway, Mr. Weasel turned up one day, literally out of the blue, and demanded to play the part of the Saviour, on the grounds that he, due to far-reaching historical complications, was in fact the One. Which surprised the Oberammergauers considerably, knowing full well thatHe had been up and about some two thousand years ago. It seems things got somewhat out of hand, because the stout villagers took Mr. Weasel by the long ears and slapped him into their local mental hospital, a lovely little retreat with a fine view of the rosily snow-capped mountains run by Dr. Morrel, Hitler's personal psychiatrist. From where he escaped with the help of a wizened old cockroach who knew the compound's intricate sewage system by heart.   

And to end this all perhaps a kind of reverse juxtaposition. I was taught and grew up with the firm belief that Pizarro, Cortez and his conquistadores, many of whom were indeed cutthroats of the first order, had ruthlessly destroyed a marvellous and highly developed culture. Until I gave it a closer glance. And saw in its artistry a remarkable ugliness, and in its elite a subhuman mob who doped themselves to kingdom come while placating their bloodthirsty gods with human sacrifices of unspeakable barbarity. No wonder they dropped like a rotten apple into Cortez' hands. Who was, by the way, a capable administrator and tried to do his best for Mother Church's new-won sheep. 

As to the little nursery rhyme at the outset, I know that similar proverbs can be found in every decent society. Because it is common knowledge that Evil instead of Goodness and Honour cannot rule forever. It would be against God's intent. Thus Truth is not only a sacred gift, but an essential part of His general Blueprint. She has her own momentum, slow often, but an inscrutable fabric. The singular perpetrator might get away with an evil deed, at least in this World. But if Truth concerns a country, even a whole People, it cannot be suppressed, manipulated or defecated for ever. To put it somewhat poetically, the Goddess Truth is a small but very clear brook. You may catch a few drops in your cupped hand, and they are almost weightless. But with the time they will undermine whole citadels, even Empires, no matter if they are of the Sword, of a False Credo, or merely of Mammon and Slander.  


Michael Colhaze (email him) is a pen name.

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The Crucifixion of Bishop Williamson


Ernest M. Trionfo added a new comment to the post The Crucifixion of Bishop Williamson.

Ernest M. Trionfo said on The Crucifixion of Bishop Williamson

January 29, 2009 at 2:31 am

The good bishop is 90% wrong about the German
concentration camps. 90% of the approximately 300,000
inmates in these camps who perished according to the
International Red Cross were gentiles not Jews according
to the famous ADL-blackballed anti-Nazi World War II reporter Douglas Reed.

Reed saw the burning of the Reichstag while riding his
bike, and he wrote a book about the trial of the accused
arsonists. He personally met Hitler and interviewed the
Germany's concentration camp inmates at the end of the war.

"Hitler's own original proposal for the name of the National Socialist party was "the Social Revolutionary Party"; he described himself as "the executor of Marxism" (not its executioner); and he told Hermann Rauschning that he had built his organization on the model of Communism. I met Hitler once or twice and studied him at close quarters for many years, before and after his rise to power; I believe that no genuinely informative work about him and the part he played has yet appeared."

…Douglass Reed.

Here is what Reed wrote about the true nature of the Nazi persecution during World War II:

"If I learned of a concentration camp containing a thousand captives I reported this; if I learned that the thousand included thirty or fifty Jews I reported that. I saw the first terror, spoke with many of the victims, examined their injuries, and was warned that I incurred Gestapo hostility thereby. The victims were in the great majority, certainly much over ninety percent, Germans, and a few were Jews. This reflected the population-ratio, in Germany and later in the countries overrun by Hitler. But the manner of reporting in the world's press in time blocked-out the great suffering mass, leaving only the case of the Jews.
I illustrate this by episodes and passages from my own experience and reporting. Rabbi Stephen Wise, writing in 1949, gave the following version of events personally reported by me in 1933, and undoubtedly purveyed the same version in the presidential circle of which he was a familiar during those years: "The measures against the Jews continued to outstrip in systematic cruelty and planned destruction the terror against other groups. On January 29, 1933 Hitler was summoned to be chancellor … at once the reign of terror began with beatings and imprisonment of Jews…We planned a protest march in New York on May 10, the day of the ordered burning of Jewish books in Germany . . . the brunt of the attack was borne by Jews… concentration camps were established and filled with Jews".

All these statements are false. The measures against the Jews did not outstrip the terror against other groups; the Jews were involved in a much larger number of others. The reign of terror did not begin on January 29, 1933, but in the night of the Reichstag fire, February 27. No "burning of Jewish books" was ordered; I attended and reported that bonfire and have looked up my report published in The Times, to verify my recollection. A mass of "Marxist" books was burned, including the works of many German, English and other non-Jewish writers (my books, had they then been published, would undoubtedly have been among them); the bonfire inc1uded some Jewish books. the "brunt" of the terror was not borne by Jews, nor were the concentration camps "filled with Jews". The number of Jewish victims was in proportion to their ratio of the population. Nevertheless this false picture, by iteration, came to dominate the public mind during the Second War…

I earlier described, with illustrations from Jewish sources, the process by means of which, over the years, the Jews were "singled out" from the mass of Hitler's victims and their number inflated at will from day to day (Hitler's book-bonfire became "the burning of Jewish books"; his concentration camps where ninety percent of the inmates were Germans became concentration camps for Jews; a wartime report about the killing of" 150,000 White Russians, Ukrainians and Jews at Kieff" was changed to "150,000 Jews"; and so on interminably)."

None can even guess the number of Jews whose deaths, during the war, were not natural or the result of bombing and the like, but who were done to death by the Nazis. My opinion is that, whatever was the number of Jews in the countries overrun by Hitler, the number of their victims was in roughly that proportion to the total population stricken, Polish, Czech and other. I have found this to be the opinion of all persons known to me who survived the concentration camps and occupations. Having suffered themselves, their feeling for Jewish victims was as strong as for all others, but they could not understand why the one case of the Jews was singled out and the number of Jewish victims monstrously exaggerated. "

… Douglass Reed.

The 300,000 German concentration camp inmates
did were not killed by the actions of the German
government but by the allied bombing which resulted
in the starvation and death of millions of Germans whether
they were in forced labor camps or not. In fact, it
was in the interest of the Allies that the inmates
die since they were making weapons for Germany.

And it was the deliberate policy of the US government to kill
civilians through the use of fire bombs (and nuclear bombs in
the case of Japan) during the war, to "break the morale of the
enemy", and by starvation of POWs and civilians after the
war over as a simple matter of revenge prescribed by the
Talmud: the "Morgenthau Plan").

The famous mass grave at Bergen-Belsen was filled
with the bodies of inmates who died from typhus
epidemic which was the direct result of the Allied
bombing campaign.

90% of the dead this mass grave were gentiles
according to Reed but the only
victim that we know anything about is Anne
Frank whose famous diary was written with a
ball point pen.

The Catholic hierarchy persecuting bishop Williamson
should canonize Anne Frank for this was truly
a miracle. Ball point pens were not invented
until after World War I.

See all comments on this post here.


Dalton's Holocaust Radio Debate on April 24, 2010:


Michael Santomauro
Editorial Director
Call anytime: 917-974-6367

Amazon's: DEBATING THE HOLOCAUST: A New Look At Both Sides by Thomas Dalton

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