I really like a good map, as you know, and I like a good anniversary. I like a shed load of turney burney, studio Ghibli, darjeeling and I do like sepia prints for they stop in melancholy restained flections.
If ever there was to be found a photo of the people I read about in my text books as a lad they would be monotonous. Davus in horto est; would be a villa without colour. Since by that time the Romans were gone from their hoods and withering whither they had whinned dust.
Just as I never believed a word written about the spaghettibitchboy and his wanderings to the east, so I never gave a seconds credence to the fable about the sudden capture of Carthaginian shipwright mass production tech by the Romans.
All the debts are lingered, all the assets are noted and therefore nothing is secret and all is in motion. Do you seriously think that the 100BC-100AD equivalent of Hjalmar-Schacht or Strong didn’t have all the metadimensionless to hand? Do you think that life was harder for Hammurabi’s bean counter or for Janet Yellen? Do you still think that the farming of deliberate inbredbastards stopped in the year 1945AD? What bits of circus and harem do you not recognise UKabo?
Nowhere is an actual real history extant for the vulgar, you and me. As mentioned here a little while ago, the fact of a history project being kicked off pre 1941 by the USofA corp. means we have to assume similar for the other actors in all times and places brought to our attention. That means even such a great historian as Irving must be treated as massively incomplete. He can never tell us what went on in Breslau or the Protektorate. A bit player like Hitler has to be handled as a puppet. Why? Well if I could print off any flavour of cash I wanted in industrial scale counterfeiting operations via Strong et al then I could buy any number of lives without the Stepford wives knowing of my hand as they ran through their allotted life span. If I had the senior debts, the original velum and provenance then all younger instruments would bend to my will or be burned. If the never ending sisterhood of the fucknuns were in the darkness then what bit of I could make anything happen to fulfil the prophecy and reunite the garden with all weeds gone from the singing baize is delusional?
Unlike all other belief systems, I could point to an unbroken line of success for over 5000 years with all opposition liquidated.
Puellae laetae sunt, well only before the race replacement of the Romans. Rome was not Roman in 1AD, so the Bishop there is naught but a counterfeit wife. Just as 3 legions disappeared then abouts, I find myself looking at 1914-15 as a similar irreversible race replacement sacrament. Conjuring fallow fields as sanguinary enrichment. One speculates about game theory in temples and the use of complexity to fertilise favourable famine conditioning, RAND and randy as a food wave function.
It is not enough to enact, to exercise the will. In the herd attention space a condition of intention can only be actualised through repetition of thorough ceremony, ritual and worship such that the gaters of the cult can release synchronicity and stasis from the holy tachydithering mares.
Forgery is their only creation for debt as death balances their ledger.