Do you remember when Bighat Tucker would wander like a stealthy arthritic ninja outside the gates and do nothing but report like a great bloated Vidal waving Ginger Rogers as Lois Lanestylee fakeage reportage imaginatorsturbator?
Well, if that wheezercise was useless excercise decades after the Farterbilkers actually were an active front, what the hell is it today but a temple troupe ersatz time waste for Turing Fails to watch and cum all over their eunuch oil soaked fake orgasm iZones.
Any real reporters would be deep in theatre giving us the photeez from the NeuBohemia grove in Brasiliazone or the HongFarterbilker camp in Chunking, innit?
As I was waffling earlier there is a great deal of cognitive
dissonance to be found when one sticks one’s nosey beak into the ideas of
mental judaics, remember you don’t have to be a jew to be a kyke, just before
the Harranian scholars pulled the pin on the demolition charges parked in the
West for centuries.
Pilpul is not a Darwinian concept it is a Lamarckian life
style choice as sterile hothouse fiat econiche thickery.
Notice that the trouble making gangsters never have any
trouble wandering the planet in luxury, getting a nice gaff to park their sorry
arses once arrived and never short of the bestest life enhancing tools and softest
cotton sheet wrapped pleasuregelphs to kipoff. Trotsky did like his
refrigerator just so, in a time when 99% of the west’s population shat in the
dark in the open air wracked with consumption. Don’t be getting too distressed
when the whole raison d’être of hotels is trafficking slaves and resting agents,
So we have two too incongruous ideas growing in the hydroponics in 1935?
In order to bring the Thothian specific weaponry, only
actioned by the mental signatures of Those, into reality after millennia of
waiting, the Slithereen tongued khaants got to the ear of FDR through the
Thomas Dolby lookalike fake poptart popstar who got laughed out of Germany
after dumping his smarter wife to shag his close relative family’s fluid locked
masonmanoil reciprocal, squared.
Meanwhile a load of unemployable wastrels were given a blank
cheque to write as much forged counterfeit currency that maximised the waste of
as much time and emotional capital as possible in pursuit of what the P36s
would find useless as the Art of War. Have you ever wondered how thick the
academy really is?
Once one understands the weirdness of Thorium and Mercury
being dumped all over the murder chamber and even after the NCIS tractor
statisticians have wandered through to simultaneously corrupt and sanitise the
crime scene, like the scandal in sunny Japan where Jun’s lads were still at it
a decade later, then the following statements make sense and all is klaar.
Anyone who wants to dump fission reactions, pressure waves,
as part of the hallucination that is Alice’s
strategic bombing fantasy is a temple whore.
Anyone who wants to go anywhere without nuclear chemistry
providing the motivation is going nowhere.
Here in the most advanced society on the planet…before you
choke on that I’d better just run off a short history of the dump. For all of
the 20th century the UKplcabo wasstarved, ignorant and unemployed. It was locked within its island prison
and rationed. It was machine gunned to death over seas and then in their own
streets. Tanks stalked their workplaces like in all banana republics. It was
terrorised by threat of the heathen almighty turning up and vapourising their
shithovels. It was not allowed to know how other people lived well. It was then
used to kill every ordnirabo overseas who might live well. UKabo then was given
a cell block to watch it's pissvision nonstop. It handed all its money and wealth
over to foreign tax farmers and rentiers. It voted into administration foreign gansters’
thieving bitchboys and boybitches and had everything stolen.
In the 21st century it feted war criminals and
can only be viewed as collegiate mass criminals under 24/7 CCTV living
convivially as house boys and harem bitches. You can murder in broad daylight
but one daren’t let off a 5 note fart that might be construed as the Horst
Wessel without getting dragged away to the Sovietstylee asylum and shot. It is
a blanket 24 7 365/6 non stop D notice oompaloompa retardosphere of
phukkwittery in a chimp house.
In my memory Heath, Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair/Brown,
The Gang of 4, Son of Sam Mayostein and the next Chicomm clowneunuch, were/are
all bitchboys and boybitches of foreign powers.
..ergo in the worlds most advanced society it is not
surprising that the UKabo collective is the oligarchs wet dream. A whole
national collective Turing Fail.
Mass destruction by Berneysian altar bitch creatives pumping
and pimping short term loans at 1000%+ to poor persons, 99% of UKabos, derived
like magicians bukkake from nothing, right in your face.
The UKabo still hands over its blood, for free, to the
Vampire organ trafficking Hecate cult dearth and death shop known as the NHS.
Shitting in your face like a colostomy explosion in HDTV.
Now before I put the boot in again I want to have a little
detour on why UKplc imported so many commies from eastern Europe after the
Wizard of Ounces wall fell in 89.
Ever tried to start up a company and get into the many
tiered gravy train that was UKplc’s on the never, never, public housing refurb
scam in the 2000s? Of course not. Having run with a load of
Bulgarian/Lithuanian, with the odd Pole, geezers who made it well in the
Brown/Prescott piss take for future imported, bombed and gassed by NATO, refugees,
only ex-commies who could pencil whip the acres of bollox documentation had the
skill sets to handle the unbearable kackocracy’s hurdles in the Trostky
So are you maintaining your credit score UKaboretardospong???
Once again we return to the Big One. The incomplete final work
of the masters. A stage play that had to be stopped before the last act got underway.
If we can halt and partake of one of my favourite pass times and look at the map
then we can stare at how the world was, how it was not yet remade and how it will
look in the days to come.
Forgive the jump room bollox but we will divert to Vietnam to illustrate
the primary directive of all actions approved by the warlocks in Babylondon. As
we all know by now the USofAcorp was not supposed to emerge victorious in Vietnam. It was
there to provide the anvil against which the hammer of Babycommie worship could
sickle the weeds. It always intrigued me that the clown who “sorted” the Malay
problem was imported to help the campaign in Vietnam through the simple expedient
of sweeping the weeds into safe villages and camps that on cold examination
simply look like conzentrationslaager.
Let us state it clearly. In Malaya the Babygangstas ran the
gangs, counter gangs and street gangs, counter street gangs, guerrillas and
counterinsurgents so there was no lessons to be directly imported to soon to be
Vietnamistan. The Malay TaliBabylonian plan can be seen clearly in Vietnam but at
a higher level. The street gangs are Vietcong and ARVN, the counter gangs are NVLA
and USofA corp, the COIN are in CIA and COMINTERN and everybody who was an ordinary
person got dead. BabylMission accomplished. I know what you regular readers here
are thinking; he’s been watching Eucalyptus Nunc again. Yep,
"PBR Street Gang, this is Almighty, over...
This is Almighty, standing by, over.
This is Almighty, how do you copy, over..."
There is an island far, far away with a shed load of drums
from National Socialist Germany parked by the runway and rusting away quietly,
vintage 1943AD. Now why would you take a load of UStroopers and dump them in Unalaska
from the deserts of California
at that time with no theatre specific training and kit? Ooh err missus do you
reckon someone was driving black Artic Unterzeeboots a bit farther and more
frequently than we can believe. And where would these geezers with the tinnitus
be going then. It sure as HongKongPhooey wasn’t to take Martin Bormann on a farewell
Drum’n’Base tour of the far eastern night clubs!! Your correspondent has been
pondering the cover story provided about slight amounts of radio chemicals in
the water run off there. YFW!! A phukk load of IJ troopers and their munitions,
a phekkoff great runway and the shit weather to strain some Uranium out of the
rainwater? You might as well bag cow farts FFS! How’s about the island being
nothing more than a great big small version of UKplc as Runaway One, an unsinkable
Now at this point I will simply state something that is not
to be found anywhere in the legends we are fed by script writers about what we
are supposed to believe was a great big enterprise for good and we the beneficiaries
of this great effort should never question any part of the utlrabollox.
At the highest level there is enough evidence in the
irrational tales that at no time did UKplc or USofA corp understand what was
really going down despite them engineering the Baruch/Szilard War..I would let
you scratch your head at the fact that the suicide gang who were slamming
zeroes into carriers were the same gang that stood down, yes stand down orders,
when Babystalin moved in Aug 45…though I will conceded that the IJgang did keep
fighting until Oct/Nov 45 in the same dirt that the SBS and Chesty fought a few
years later. Countergang.
Mobs, counter gang, street gang, counter insurgency, flash
Now consider roundup as gang as corporate person as androgynous
As an addendum to the comment I parked at MAMI’s on this one,
after puzzling over certain events from the continuity of oligarchy state,
Terroresa Son of Sam May keeps referring to Statutes from the late 15th/early
16th century so shuv that in your pipe and smoke it, I do entertain
some contra interesting thoughts.
In his autobio “Three Sips of Gin” Bax relates a very level
headed story which only goes mental towards the end. The narrative gets phukked
by the censors here so badly that it must be a deliberate flag to stare at.
Since it is no longer possible to do the same open source
research here on the ausphart as one could in the good old days when hard core
porn and the Saturn Solution was all you could get out here, one is left to
The reader, having already spotted the MiHi Queensman Cornish
key stone mason copper traitor/loyalist bipolar bought and paid for bit player,
follows the insertion into Mozambique
and it goes pear shaped, the reader is left wondering.
This reader forms the opinion, from reading around the
history of other events far, far away, that Henry VIII’s continuity of
oligarchy admin had run ChiComms with Hereford
copper plating into the area.
Decades later we find that there is a fukkoff massseeeeevv
royalist compound in the MzB jungle for the Royal Dutch Shell game royals to
swan around in parking their erogenous zones just so, with no annoying whites
around to shit on their parade.
30 years, almost to the day, since we chatted about this moment turning up.
Do you remember all those commie bashing films where PVO Strany or NK MiG drivers couldn't make their own calls or use judgment. Expect massive shoot downs as the inhabited Talmudic Turing Fails check off their combat gender coded equality weapons before being allowed to manoeuvre!!!
ChiComm big war doctrine doesn't care how fluid gender you are, their high velocity will just turn you to fluid.
I would simply add to CC’s first book title the word
“Convivial”. With everyone wondering where the protest movements went, YFW!!!?
Convivial Barbarism is the lifestyle choice of the global hot house Eunuch
class. When, not if, but when the counterfeit money operation is turned off the
whole lot will be left to starve.
CC’s analysis of the EU’s ubermuppets from 20 years ago and the
Euromed bollox was spot on. BREXIT and Yellow Vests, two sides of the same smashed
“So what?I hear you
Well fast forward 200 years and imagine the skunknockering
survivor savages making their unknowing pilgrimages to worship at flat earth
stadium Wembley or the Kubrick shrine off the old A1(M), hoping to juxtapose
their fading sex organs just so at spring equinox. BWAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA. You can
guarantee that a peacefilled freeself serving Talmud AI will be stopping off to gaze at the
scum from LEO and wondering “Is it time to nuke the clowns from orbit”.
Well there we are, the 76th anniversary of the
lads going at the dams and landing on Attu has
Like the old IJ dams where our SBS lads were with Chesty, we
are never knowing of what was really going down. As Patton never new when the
SAS intercept teams got pulled during his operations in late ‘44.
As we wander through our daily singnorance it would seem
that the very earth under our feet is slowly breaking us into reality, the loam
is composting our ecmnesia, fashioning
us as affixed bremsstrahlungnephelim, and making us everbound broken angels.
Could it be that some of us, in fact a greater proportion of us than ever, will
not escape this infinity film of blackness, this never ending sandwichedsliver,
into the boundless light of lifed? To leave existence, never. Either way should
be our majority but it seems to be only for the tiniest minority.
As I was waffling at the firebreak outing here long ago the
flame fronts are washing over us again and though we are completely unaware of
their combustion of all that we imagine we hold dear, the process is actually
wished into effect and there is no contrition though the tears are real.
If absolutely no one, ever, can tell you anything about God
as soon as they open their yapp, how can they speak forth any truth about where
a bomb landed, anytime, anywhere, anyhow?
If no one actually knows anything about how to kit out troops
in a war economy how can they tell you anything about suicide bombers in a
media centric attention economy?
They can go get to phukk!!!!
The iGREEN youngPIONEERS are going to start delivering high
velocity pharmacy, the COMINTERNphukkmuppets, to ordinary persons and yet they
slaver when trees are felled in the hundreds of thousands and dead fauna and
flora die in a death strewn harvest of their own mental lunacy so they can flash
mob violence out their 5G asses. We destroyed the cornucopia to bring you
ashes. We collectivised the farms to starve you. We are shitheadphukkmuppets.
Banksters’ bitchboy moto “ Phukkmuppeti et fukkwiti sumus”
Anyway, as I was going to say, there we were 4 years into a
war economy, i.e. UKabo lockdown, and at very short notice we send in a
precision raid to drop c10,000lbs objects. Whatever the objective was it had
nothing to do with power or production. Someone or something was stuck in
transit/in the general area and only an area effect could disrupt/destroy. Nothing
makes sense in the conventional narrative. Just like nothing makes sense of the
BoB unless one entertains the idea that we shot down too many jerries. The
greatest fear of the boys in the big room was that lampshades and soap
production might get curtailed and everything turned over to gas turbines and
cascade weapons in 1940.
Thank God for the atheists. Their burning souls destroy the dark
and mark way.
Attention Eurabos, any homestead instability will be met
with a Maoist yellow bird cull should you get in the way of the great slaver
empire’s krypto return to the world stage before your HDTV pissvisioned eyes.
From Dublin to Lublin, from Tromso to Taranto, you are going to get the Irishabo
treatment and this time the life of miscreants is going to be more Solzhenitsyn
The Eurofarce Black and Tan helicopters are overhead and the
EuroskryptoRoboZOMO are watching.
For every burned out home in Ireland then, you can chart a false
flag here in Euraboland now.
What was it that brings you? What is it that takes your
life? What is where the endless of your every embrace will take the infinity of
your freedom as we touch within the thin film of the grace of your love, reflected
as a bicameral fish kettled mirror with my infinity brothed past and future
No one will ever loves you with within.
I know that giving vent to the remediatied is overwhelming
just at this moment. At 1000meters a 75 will arrive at you with the exact same
moment as an 88 but the locality leads to a guassian and you will survive or
die depending on where your cant were worked.
The greatest of the ones I think about at all times and all
places died poor and borne. Crippled by the farce invicuts. As my favourite,
before he got controlled by his 5 eyes stepford wifey, used to remark, the
indignation derives all.
Consider the outcome of wedding the alchemnity of dead
inhabited carbon base delife forms. Can you not cast your net still in the
turbulent waters and fish for our future of those we make pure. Are you krypoled.
Without the ten years since parking the outbound into the
inbound here on the ausphart it is quite clear that the nam shub is working
them to death.
That means that we are quite simply winning, consider and
reflect, like a massive mirrored reflection of our individual love humming
before flowering. Stare at your unstated hand, is it pistol bruised? Have you a
care where you spent your skin? Can you cast your bronzed shadow stilled in
motion? Smoking in harmony is not blasphemy, as the tendrils render their time.
As you know, whom deglyphs here, your pixelated chum is
decidedly Enki, for a short jestered walk on bit part that has been my pleasure
to conjure within the finest folds of your scone. However the play is now
target riched and not even the most marketed frauds can fail when the msuik
begins, the never ending msuik this time, non stop, when the meeting is joined
remember that your death is to be brought here at a distance, so do not fail when
you trigger and caste.
Concept is time as every woman knows awaiting your phase
In this future only the Turing Failed Heathen Call will
remove change as loved.
For a great length of time your correspondent memorXd
details of all the turney burney things that were ready to bang on a split
second’s notice way back when and opinion formed like hyperplastic. It wasn’t Burton
on a 6 counties farm nor smiling Maximilian getting Palastined, it was
something in the aether that set the capital. This sandy hardware was the stuff
actually in frame but the important fiat material remained in the background as
an amorphous general knowledge that had seeped thorough through contact to form
the great unending sky blue cloth from which the actors ended play.
Emergent during this time, in my scone, was a simple rule of
thumb which kind of worked then but will no longer apply since the demographics
have become primitive. Today it would be like trying to compare the aggregate uggings of the slot halls in Vegas with the mean at a Kubrick water whole,
the contemplative rubrick is smashed.
As an aside I do like wandering through the ways and byways
where his nibs was stationed in the late 60s, one can park off the A1(M) and
contemplate what was going on before the memo got circulated as to who was
really in charge of black propaganda and dark faction. I think I have mentioned
that in the area where rubrciksack was operative the greatest UFO was hammered
and the under employed farriery were alloying chains, restraints and whips for
carry on porn. Didn’t I? I thought I had already remarked that the only reason
for massive docklands fields of switcheroo is so that trick gut stabbing houdoo
killerkunts can make money from printerfakes in their sterile teeming tennentments
for counterfeit enactment gold plated count zeroes.
Anyway back to dimensionless analysis.
One can take a mass, bang it out and the tables will give
you a rough idea of what will happen to you should you be collocation in
terminus. Some times tiramisu will ensue, at another other temper the foil will
prevail. Looking at the tables for 1985, when the pin was pulled, one can put
the logarytmus method of coitus on the charts and make the following Saganic.
Back when 451 was not fascionable again, when in the short space of turdtime 400 millions took
their towering tight disco flares and burned them in the faces of the other 400
millions, it was not a time of snipeace and analove. It was time to remove the
weeds from the herb garden.
I digress, so back to the turney burney. I was a small boy
and one of my mates brought in a copy of Speed and Power, the issue when the
most beautiful assembly of stuff fell burning. More than the Ilya
Muromets, more than the TSR2, more than the many things from Dessau, it was the technological
end. Funny thing to know when you are a tyke.
Sordid though it might seem to one who loved every moment of
Niven and Peck, sheds a tear whenever a light aircraft breaks through the
overcast into diffraction blue, shovels popcorn when Clint and Richard cling to
the cars, sweats buckets lest the crank fails and Anthony will not be getting
his brew in Alex, the dimensions are now all wrong.
Was it always so.
“…..Electric Boat was awarded an $887 million extension to
the Jimmy Carter contract on 10 December 1999 to modify the boat for
testing new submarine systems and highly classified missions previously carried
out by USS Parche.
During modification, her hull was extended 100 feet (30 m) to create a
2,500-ton supplementary middle section which forms a Multi-Mission Platform
(MMP). This section is fitted with an ocean interface for…” Wikipeadia
Keep your eye on the Jimmy C aswan he dies the ritual remains for is it
not phunny how foney the munny spewm id?
It is now 40 years since I realised that hypermuppetry was a
gold plated lifestyle choice, all of us having already suffered many years of
Craven depressure when children fell formed the Belfast’s men’s best wing structures
after strike, not involving Y2K panic
whilst greasedfreaks got to cum all over printer paper folding itself after
turning on VDU colour…….. unjest like being a religious policeman as Beira, Mueller et al
chose to be, mindmonged mentalists worshiping the fiat paper, bitte. Like a
fractional lenining easing of the pass laws of Voronezh
repeat as end. One does not need to stand in a square lopping heads off with a hexadecriminal
sword to be heathen chosen. One can just ramp up iGREEN taxes and lie back with
your erogenous zones juxtaposed, just so, as the decomposing tumescent corpses
bloat your guilt free mind washed as an ground effect aluminium schlong reams
the pentagon audit teams, closed loop.
What was it that I wanted to say all those years ago before
I wandered down the lanes near the Witch
Island garlic farm and onto
their high banking to stare there at fauna and flora? Whatever it was it
involved the heathen call, not aging like the banks themselves. Like so many
attempts at action the never needing struggled tried at temporary excess to
remove my wrightwrit. Ergo consider this…
“The Soviet-built Strela-2 Man Portable Air Defense (MANPAD)
system was developed in the late 1950s, based heavily on intelligence gleaned
by the KGB about the American FIM-43 Redeye surface-to-air missile (SAM). It
had an impact on the battlefield far beyond its technical capabilities in
virtually all the world’s late 20th-century conflicts. The Strela (“Arrow”),
code-named “SA-7 Grail” by NATO, holds the distinction of being the first
MANPAD successfully employed in combat—in Egypt in 1969. Vietnam was the
second conflict to see its use.” https://www.historynet.com/sa-7-grail-man-portable-missile-packs-punch.htm
“THE HUNYANI DISASTER
A compilation of newspaper reports
On the evening of 3 September 1978 Rhodesians were shocked
by the news that terrorists of Joshua Nkomo’s ZIPRA had shot down a Rhodesian
Viscount airliner, the "Hunyani", using a Soviet-made Sam-7 missile.
The airliner, carrying 52 passengers and 4 crew members vanished from radar
screens five minutes after its 5.05 p.m. takeoff from Kariba airport. Almost
immediately a distress signal was received to the effect that the engines had
failed. The aircraft crashed near the northern border with Zambia in the Urungwe Tribal
40 km south-east of Kariba Dam. Eighteen people survived the crash.
The crash itself was shocking news, but the fate that
awaited some of the survivors was to cause a wave of revulsion throughout Rhodesia. The
following are newspaper reports of the event and aftermath.” http://www.rhodesia.nl/viscount.htm
Now I do not want to rain on anyone’s parade but the first
MANPADs came out the factories and started shooting up White armoured cars in
1945 and did not give the game away before Il2s choochoo.
As we peek over the herd herb heard garden wall at the
Maison rouge or look back at the wold; whisper to me as the sandal recedes, before
there was anyone to be named here in the forested other greens, off violets, of
de reds , beyond sell by dates , terse yellows and ersatz erses what was the
heathen called? Do you want that in sepia with counterfeit plates?
Statute Piracy is a natural nothought autobot shootdown
never ending fail when the heathen calls.