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Thanked Posts by FreeAssange

  1. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    I can't tell if it's useless, or a new religion, or what. I figured here would be a good place for feedback if anyone is so inclined.

    ================================

    Part I

    From the womb
    I am surrounded by the action of the universe.
    I feel my own weight.
    I am placed.
    My place is a sphere and
    I am at the center of it.

    And every moment of every day of this, my life
    my senses—the middle men for everything I know—
    tell me the whole universe spreads out from me,
    always,
    in every direction.

    I walk.
    A tree comes into view, and a rock...
    They slide toward the center of the universe as I approach,
    then slide again away from the center with my progress
    until they are gone.

    Along the way I discover fire
    and suddenly,
    because I will it,
    the rocks and the trees are transformed
    into tools and resources.

    I am pleased.
    I have expressed my rationality in the physical world
    by acting in terms of it as it really is.

    I call this expression of my rationality "science"
    and suddenly the universe
    is pressed into the service of my desires.
    But my desires (I discover soon enough)
    are limitless.

    I will be busy until the end of...
    the end of...
    time.

    I explore time, using my science,
    and discover I can see the universe without me.
    And beyond that I see the birth of the universe itself
    until I realize I am looking at the death of a universe without me
    and the distance of both is one eternity.
    They meet in the middle and there I am.

    I stand back and from the middle of eternity I look at what I have done to the rocks and the trees.
    I consider the breadth of my knowledge;
    It, my science, is a marvel.
    It is my tremendous achievement:
    an immeasurable accumulation of intelligence across ages.
    I am Scientific Man.

    Take a look at me:
    Scientific Man in the middle of all there is
    has been
    or ever will be,
    forever expressing his rationality in the physical world around him,
    wielding his tools,
    consuming his resources,
    striding across the universe,
    straddling eternities.

    I am the master of all that exists.
    I am impressive.
    I am lovely.
    I am dangerous.
    I am a very clever monkey.

    Part II

    One day, something remarkable
    and very troubling happened
    to the clever monkey.

    I had had some project or another
    underway, that day, and I was
    busy with the earth and my objects
    and my science.

    Behind me, as usual,
    my desire grunted and grumbled impatiently.

    In the course of my work,
    I found myself contemplating for their suitability
    the properties of a number of objects in the area.

    Suddenly, I gasped out loud
    and jumped to my feet
    trembling and deeply unsettled.

    One of the objects,
    as I was contemplating it,
    unexpectedly contemplated me back.

    There was nothing in all my experience,
    in all my science,
    to prepare me for this,
    for being the object of contemplation.

    So I, clever monkey,
    simply stood and stared
    rooted like a tree to the spot where I stood,
    immobile as a rock.

    And then I noticed there were others.
    Many, in fact.
    Many objects contemplating me,
    looking back at me.

    For a man of science, of course,
    it was unnerving—
    in the physical world,
    one is never the object of one's object.

    I marshaled my cleverest science
    hoping to find some way to fold these new and unique objects
    into my rational, self-centered approach to the universe.

    But in the end,
    only Linnaeus, of all my scientific brethren,
    could offer help: I could only name them.

    From then on,
    the contemplating objects of contemplation were called You.
    And falling out of the nature of the thing,
    I became Me.

    So there is Me,
    in the middle of the universe,
    at the center of time
    observing the objects around me.

    And there, observing Me back, are You,
    and You, and You.
    And You. Observing Me!
    You. Me.
    Me circle cautiously.
    You circle Me,
    and Me ape You.

    Me are fascinated that You find Me so exceedingly interesting.
    Me mesmerizes You,
    and Me cannot tear Me eyes away.

    Then I notice that You contemplate Me from the middle of the universe,
    and from the center of time.
    Move! Move!
    You cannot be in the place of Me!

    Me science strains to account for You implications.
    You are Me when You observe Me,
    and Me is You,
    but the impossibility of it cuts Me adrift.
    Blind, deaf, disembodied,
    out of place, out of time.
    Me senses are discredited;
    no longer trustworthy,
    and all Me knowledge begins to wash away like sand under a torrent...

    Me begins to sense You are the enemy of Me,
    and You begin to hate Me.
    Me hate You and curse the day Me first saw You,
    You tell Me,
    snarling with Me hate
    and Me terror
    and Me loss.

    I need a place to think
    and so I find a place in which all the objects are proper ones.
    I conclude since there can be only one center of the universe,
    there can only be one Me.
    And that Me is I.

    So I tried to ignore you
    and concentrate only on those objects that behaved.
    I tried and sometimes succeeded.
    But, despite my best efforts,
    I found my attention irresistibly and repeatedly
    drawn back to You.

    I couldn't seem to leave well enough alone,
    and no sooner would my attention alight on You
    than I would find my attention rewarded
    with another spate of mule-headed mischief.

    It was frustrating, frankly, and it made me angry.
    And the more I dealt with you, the angrier I got.

    So, when You or You came into view,
    I turned away.
    It was I and my objects
    there at the center of the universe
    in the middle of time.

    Oh, my science!
    I am awed by your scale and your complexity.
    But, I have discovered,
    You are more complex still.

    Scientific Man, you are clever,
    but, I have discovered,
    You are cleverer still.

    You laugh. Science never laughs.
    You cry. Science never cries.
    Though science understands the human eye,
    science cannot see You eyes.
    You eyes sometimes cloud with sadness,
    You eyes sometimes sparkle with joy,
    Sometimes You eyes narrow with suspicion.
    Sometimes they flash with anger.
    Sometimes they harden into hatred.

    To all these, science is blind
    and it would break
    your heart, Science,
    if you could see beauty.

    And oh, my science,
    unlike you,
    You can feel my pain.

    I have discovered why I cannot seem to ignore You
    to eliminate You
    to live isolated and satisfied with Me science and Me objects—
    a very clever monkey
    in the middle of the universe
    and the center of time.

    Because I hate, and love,
    and feel sorrow, and joy.
    Because I am You.

    Part III

    Clearly Scientific Man is inadequate to explain
    both Me and You.
    I need to find a fuller man,
    a man who can include the reality of Scientific Man,
    and exceed him.

    Like Scientific Man,
    my new man must express his rationality in the real world.
    To be more fully real
    he must act in terms of the world as it really is.
    But my new man must also account
    for the impossible paradox
    of the individual centrality
    of all the Me and You.

    And so, for the first time since the womb,
    I step back from my senses,
    I step back from the information they feed me—
    a small step to suspend—
    suspend—
    the basis for all my rational action.

    I say:
    Oh You, and You, and You, and You:
    I grant you Me and I am You and
    You and Me are equally in the center of the universe.
    ...and the immediate benefit is astonishing...

    Where before my world was limited
    to all the objects around me,
    now to that objective reality is added a new realm.

    Suddenly, society spreads out before me.
    And politics, likewise,
    like the lights of a city coming on as dusk passes.
    And politics and society blaze out into the falling night,
    lighting the darkness.

    And I have a new man.
    I consider what to name him.

    I discover I can send ripples of understanding through my societies.
    So do I call my new man social man?

    I learn I can act reasonably in political ways.
    So do I call my new man political man?

    No, there is a better name for the Scientific Man
    who has suspended for a bit his science,
    his senses,
    his relationship with the rocks and the trees.

    I look out on the vast city below
    stretching out in a yellow haze
    into an endless sea of lights
    blinking on and blinking on...

    I stretch out my hands
    and there is a pipe organ before me
    as large as a mountain
    and my fingers are spread a mile wide
    over the keys.

    I drop my hands and an enormous chord—
    a giant urgent Beethoven chord—
    swells up out of the earth
    and flows lava-like with power out over the city.

    The city below me shudders in recognition.
    And by that shudder
    I know I have expressed something true.

    The shudder shared as it washed over the city
    is the mutually shared recognition of the truth I have expressed
    and the new man is thus discovered acting rationally
    in terms of the universe as it really is.

    How much more deeply rational becomes clear
    as I consider the nature of this discovery.
    For this discovery, unlike the discoveries of Scientific Man,
    cannot be made by Me acting alone in the physical world,
    nor by You acting alone in the physical world,
    but requires the higher reality of both
    You and Me acting together in the world.

    The truth just discovered
    required the creation and the validation—
    the chord and the shudder.

    This man who, with humanity, shudders
    at the power of truth—
    this politicized, socialized man,
    this Scientific Man made more fully real,
    this more rational man,
    this one who creates and validates,
    I call Artistic Man
    and the power that washed over the city I call Art.

    Part IV

    Upon the appearance of Artistic Man,
    Scientific Man is enslaved.
    To You and You and You.
    And Me.

    As Artistic Man creates and validates,
    Scientific Man becomes a fetch boy
    for the creator and the validator.

    Never again need he be merely a clever monkey,
    for now he is in the service of creation;
    his desires are informed by art.

    Scientific Man is still as powerful as ever,
    he has lost none of his power over the rocks and the trees.
    Indeed, his abilities continue to expand with breathtaking speed.
    He daily dazzles with new marvels
    and the glittering mountains of crap he has spent a lifetime gathering
    would be the envy of any crap-gatherer.

    But in the glow of his accomplishments, sometimes,
    when surrounded by all his crap,
    Scientific Man forgets his position of servitude.
    So impressive are his achievements,
    so attractive his acquisitions,
    so clever his contrivances,

    Artistic Man, too, will sometimes forget
    who is the master and who is the slave
    and he will bend his head to his slave
    and hand him the whip.

    At more rational times, however,
    Artistic Man will confront the insubordination of the
    clever monkey crap-gatherer.

    I have seen your work, says Artistic Man to Scientific Man,
    at those times when you have dared assert your rank above me—
    of my enslavement to you.
    That I should have ever submitted myself to you and your hubris
    proves only that I am human, that I am not—
    God? Scientific Man interrupts derisively.

    You once told me that you were Economic Man,
    continues Artistic Man, ignoring him,
    and proved to me with some h + o (cu/s) = (po) + c /(u + s)
    that I was your slave.

    For a time I believed you;
    you were, after all, very grand back then.

    I handed you my whip,
    and the lights in the city were nearly extinguished
    and the music from the pipe organ on the mountain was crude and violent
    and the only shudders in the city were those of terror and old women
    as they drew a curtain on the agony of a city
    cast under a blood red haze.

    Finally, even you had to admit your science was not up to the task—
    that your Economic Man did not meet the standards of reality—
    and you handed me back my whip.

    Another time, Scientific Man,
    you told me you were Psychological Man
    and you proved to me with some blahcus blowcus
    that you were my master.

    I believed you and handed you my whip.
    The lights of the city became thin and shrill
    and meager as the spent whore left grasping at the fleeing night.

    And even you eventually needed morning light
    and to feel the sun
    and you handed me back my whip.

    Another time, Scientific Man,
    you told me you were Sociological Man
    and you proved to me with some ad hocusinem pocusology
    that you were my master.

    I believed you and handed you my whip.
    And the lights of the city grew feeble and small.
    They lay distant, scattered across a wide dark swamp,
    flat and sluggish, crying solitary in a mad, parataxic rhythm.

    Immobilized by the empty weight,
    you handed me back my whip.

    So let's have no more coups,
    Scientific Man, you clever, clever monkey
    roaming the city under a yellow haze
    in the middle of everything
    forever in the center of time.

    Part V

    The Artist is up on the mountain.
    He plays and the power ripples across the city
    and You and You and You shudder in recognition of it.

    I know, as I watch the city shudder below,
    I know that to shudder in recognition is not the thing recognized.
    Artistic Man merely reproduces a yet higher man.
    It is Artistic Man who recognizes something more real than himself
    and a city shudders at the power of that which he recognizes.
    I look closely, listen intently,
    feel my way carefully for this power under the ripples and shudders.

    But my five physical senses are useless.
    I sense the artist's power some other way.
    Oh, the power of that finer, higher sense,
    embracing the five senses and all the cleverness derived from them
    and adding the higher fuller reality—
    the heart that sings,
    the eyes that love,
    the look of compassion.

    I am a member now of a vast city,
    down on which from the heights of Art I gaze.
    I see the shudder of recognition as the power in Art.
    I understand that the thing recognized is more fully real,
    but I struggle to name it, so I recall the manner in which I made my first great leap forward in reality.

    I remember suspending my belief for a moment—
    suspending all the knowledge my senses were feeding me—
    and I looked around at this universe at the center of which was I.

    And I said, No. I am not at the center,
    nor are You, nor are You, nor are You,
    And in that way Art was born
    and my world became more real.

    But I had forgotten time.
    I had forgotten Me and You still in the center of time.

    So I looked backward,
    but saw only a man standing at the beginning of eternity;
    and forward,
    a man at the end.

    So we took our hand and stepped out of the center and looked up—
    up at the center, which was the whole of eternity,
    at the unity,
    at the One...

    Instantly we see the great city below us
    spread out across the universe
    and pulsing in time to eternity.

    Ah yes, we have accomplished that reasonable step,
    that perfectly rational step.
    We have acknowledged we are not at the center of time.

    I look deeper, and I notice that if I unhinge the city from my own centrality
    it spreads out across the universe below me,
    but to spread out over eternity
    it is not enough that I strike the city's shackles—
    You must, too,
    and we raise the next generation as the previous one raised us
    and we have our before and after...

    And two, become one,
    not in the middle of the universe: the We omnipresent.
    not in the center of time: the We eternal.
    the We in which there are
    no sides,
    no centers of the universe,
    no centers of eternity.

    We have a new man acting in terms of the world as it really is,
    exalted by Artistic Man,
    revered by Scientific Man...

    Religious Man.
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  2. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by Ghost Geometry is the unifying theme of all religion.

    I think there are two Gods in the Old testament. There is the universal "essence" God who "desires mercy, not vengeance" who dominates the later prophets--Jeremiah, Jesus

    Then there is the vicious tribal god, Yahweh, the one who talks to snakes, turns women into salt, and incinerates entire cities because some yokel washed his hands in a counterclockwise motion instead of a clockwise motion. He's the god favored by the tyrannical Levites and prophets like Ezekiel. He's the one that commanded the tribe of Judah to genocide the world.
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  3. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by the man who put it in my hood

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  4. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Here is the original "histurvey"

    https://streetjuice.org/histurvey.php

    Here are the results



    https://streetjuice.org/img/misc/what_do_we_know_brief.php
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  5. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by Nile First thing he did was put cameras up. Front and back entrance. Somebody still stole a bike he had tied on the front step, which he in a roundabout way was making accusations about. Like I would steal my neighbors bike, or even steal a bike at all.

    I don't really care about the cameras but they obviously make it hard to…. Help him understand.

    throw a super-street black tranny an eight-ball to bang on his door when he's not home and when his wife/gf opens the door have miss thing ask for "mike" or whatever his name is and then say well you better tell mike i want my 25 dollars or ill have my whole muthafuckin house down here he know the deal
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  6. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by Donald Trump I got a strike for saying Israel was white supremacist of course, because facebook is run by jedis and pretty much all jedis support Israel and are complicit in the crimes Israel do, no matter what they claim (I can think of like 3 exceptions).

    For instance someone like Naom Chomsky runs cover for Israel by claiming that America controls Israel.

    If you want to learn to lie like a jedi, take reality, and invert it.

    Pilpulism. t's real thing. Years ago I noticed that Mormons have a particular way of arguing by denying what they are obviously saying/doing and accusing you of doing/saying it at the same time. Very funny they think of themselves as a lost tribe of Israel--something like that. Like minijedis

    Here's the most important book written in the 20th century

    https://craignelsen.com/library/bolsheviks/the_controversy_of_zion.php
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  7. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by Wariat if i do you guys will spam it and take it over and ruin it.

    No we won't. Promise.
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  8. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by vindicktive vinny ooo, lemme guess, china rounded up your ancesstors from apefrica, shipped them to the US and whipped them into submission into picking cotton and making cheap t-shirts ?

    was thst it.

    nope thems was jedis wut done that. NOI almost got WTC'd and American the Farrakhan almost got JFK'd for publishing original slave auction bills from Cohen & Cohen Slave Traders and Liebowitz & Bloom Sharkway Shipping. Only a small percentage of African slaves ended up on North America, the vast majority shipped to the Caribbean and South America where the life expectancy was only a few years, conditions were beyond brutal, and the massive plantations were owned by jedis. The ones who made it here were the lucky ones.

    Have you ever seen a Hollywood movie dramatizing the brutality of slavery in South America? Q.E.D.
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  9. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    I can't think of any way to explain the deliberate suppression of the history of the bloodiest genocide of all time by the same ethnic group that committed the crime in the first place other than they are preparing for another

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  10. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by Donald Trump https://wikispooks.com/wiki/Donald_Rumsfeld

    Good riddance you fucking traitor.

    You can tell who the real traitors are by the level of honor they receive upon dying. It is inversely proportional to the degree to which they were not traitors. For example, John Tanton's life--a monument to decency, civic-mindedness, intelligence, magnanimity, patriotism, and responsible environmentalism-- was compared in his Washington Post obituary to a dead cat poisoning a well. Meanwhile, John McCain's funeral was televised, lasted three days, and occurred in two separate cities, including lying in state in the Capitol. And truly, he was as loathsome and treacherous as it is possible for a human to be--even since his youth, pure traitor. Proof we are under a hostile occupation.
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  11. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    It's funny JJ is all worked up about alleged shit-smearing on the wall (which studies show 2 out of 3 innocent people locked in a room for years do when their "protocol sensitive" hosts maliciously turn off their internet) but actual video of our people murdering civilians standing on a street in their own country talking--murdering them in our name with our money--that's righteous. Is it even possible for humans to be more contemptible?
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  12. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by the man who put it in my hood Russia is evil SO WHAT? Lots of people are, move on with your live sheesh

    Russia is not evil. We are evil. Russia gave Edward Snowden asylum. When Israel was knowingly attacking the USS Liberty in an attempt to goad us into fighting the war for them against Egypt, and were strafing the survivors in the water, Russia had a ship nearby, saw what was happening and attempted to come help our guys in the water and John McCain senior, Israel's worthless bitch just like his son, refused their help. I wish Putin would come in and with Trump take over the US. Russia has never attacked an American ship. Our best friend Israel has.
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  13. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by Jiggaboo_Johnson Free bucket of shit for everyone who wants to paint their walls with feces in support of Assange

    Men of honor, men who live by principles instead of snuffling around in the slop to get as fat as possible, a planet of soulless, grasping crap-gatherers willing to spend their whole lives gathering crap so that their pile of crap is the biggest, willing to betray friends, neglect their kids, forego love, sell out their people all for that pile of crap, big heaping shiny piles of scrapple for Mr. and Mrs Pigface. How could they honor someone like Julian Assange? A hero and a martyr, you chaff, put your snout back in the filth where you shine.
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  14. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by Technologist I’m not jealous. If they’ve got the money, more power to ‘em👍🏻

    It's the WAY the got it that matters. Mr. Fienstein and Mrs Feinstein's milked her seat for every penny. Mr. Feinstein spent half of his time in China. Oy, the deals! Remember the "Chinese spy" that was her driver or whatever for, like 20 years? She is a dirty corrupt gun-grabbing Israel-firster. String them both up.
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  15. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    I will send you the latest copy of Street Juice so you can catch up on what people in Baltimore City are up to

    https://streetjuice.org/histurvey.php

    (actually this is really to give my quiz script a test run) (but it is interesting, I think, but who knows?) It's only six questions and I really will send a paper (hence posted in "printed matter") copy or you can download Street Juice. This issue's cover story:

    Black Women Brawl over Last Parking Space in Fire Lane

    Issue 16
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  16. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by Kev in the end it doesnt matter if it was 6 million or 1 million or 6000, the atrocity happened. saying it didnt happen at all is outright dishonest and makes us holocaust skeptics look bad.

    Here is the conclusion to which I have been led by the light of my own reason: The Nazi Holocaust was nothing like it has been portrayed by Hollywood, the source for most of the historical knowledge held by the average American.

    There was never an explicit Nazi policy of jedi genocide. At least, no written policy has ever been produced.

    You have to ask yourself, if the germans were intent on exterminating the jedis, would it make sense to round up all the jedis in Germany, load them on train cars, and, in a war in which Germany, with no fuel resources of her own, was desperate throughout for Diesel fuel, ship 6 million people out of Germany and all the way to eastern Poland just to kill them in gas chambers and then waste all the fuel to incinerate 6 million human bodies?

    Or would they do what the Bolsheviks had been doing already for 20 years in next door Russia: just round up whole classes of people in the backs of trucks, drive to a ravine on the outskirts, line them up and mow them down with machine guns? (There is no shortage of those mass graves.)

    The Bolsheviks had exterminated 20 million Russian Christians that way already by the time Hitler came to power, so it wasn't like Germans didn't have that far more efficient example to follow.

    The neighborhoods in Russian towns that were within earshot of the execution grounds typically emptied of residents because most humans can't hear the sound of machine guns slaughtering other humans--their friends and neighbors-- 24 hours per day without going mad. The nazi "death camps" were quite different. Elie Wiesel survived not one, not two, but three whole death camps. Those famously efficient Germans had three cracks at him and failed to pull off his extermination. To their (and the world's) regret, no doubt. He spent the rest of his life publishing blood libel against those same Germans.

    Yes, many jedis died in WWII. 55 million Europeans died overall. Most of the jedis who died in the camps died due to the wretched conditions produced for jedis and Germans and Poles and Gypsies by relentless allied bombing of the roads and rail lines
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  17. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    Originally posted by vindicktive vinny or do they.

    When they started shutting down YouTube channels with doctors who were questioning the ((Fauci)) line, I was pretty sure the whole corona virus thing was not what it was pretending to be. Those telling the truth never try to shut people up who disagree with them. They WANT to debate. It's always the liars and schemers who try to prevent others from speaking.

    Then when they suspended the social distancing stuff for the St Floyd riots, I knew the virus was something other than what we were being told.

    At the very start of the pandemic, there was an Israeli company that announced it had a vaccine, it was all over the news for 11 hours and 17 minutes, then suddenly not another word was said about that company and we never heard from it again--exactly as if one of the squirrels in a big sprawling conspiracy had gotten away from the squirrel-herder.

    Mark me "hesitant"
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  18. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    I tried to organize a "feeder tour" to meet up with Assange's father and brother on June 21 in Minneapolis and so I was posting stuff on Reddit about it and was stunned at how callous and ignorant and short-sighted and gullible our people are. I got nothing but down votes and people saying shit like "Julian Assange has zero credibility as a journalist" which is literally parroting the New York Times. So fucking stupid. Look at the evidence, for crying out loud. That's a completely illegal war crime, done in our name, that our government is hiding from us, and an Australian citizen publishes exactly what the American press should be uncovering, and does it for free so WE could be informed, exactly the role the press is supposed to play under a system of self-government--and these fools come out and with their faggoty little "he has no credibility as a journalist" WTF

    Because our people are too stupid to see this for what it is, rise up, and put a stop to it, it is only a matter of time before the same vermin are doing the same thing to us while we are standing and talking in civilian clothes on a street in our own country. I hope the Reddit faggots are the first to die.
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  19. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    The father and brother of award-winning Australian journalist Julian Assange are on a nationwide tour of the United States calling on the U.S. government to drop its prosecution and finally let Julian come home.

    Next stop: Chicago, June 17th
    Rally at 625 N. Michigan Ave, 4:30pm

    Everything that sucks about our government and the alien vermin who have taken control of it is wrapped up in the incarceration of Julian Assange, who continues to suffer IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT - a torture so brutal people go permanently insane from it. Just think about that.

    It should not be a crime to expose a crime. IT SHOULD NOT BE A CRIME TO EXPOSE A CRIME.

    Here is a 27 sec video of Israel's poodle committing a war crime. This is the video he released that really frosted their tiny 'nads.



    Here's an article detailing the 17 major prosecutorial abuses our overlords have committed so far.

    https://politicsv2.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=8
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  20. FreeAssange Houston [our argentine adverbial dick]
    I like NIS because there is virtually no censorship and it shows in the interesting and varied content. Bradley is something like a poet. Another favorite website is unz.com, politically cutting edge. Here is a comment I picked at random from "Let Me Just Talk to Jesse"

    https://www.unz.com/article/let-me-just-talk-to-jesse/

    American soldiers were still coming home in boxes after dying in Europe, in part to save the jedis, and yet in 1947 Arthur Miller’s novel Focus was demonizing all Americans, even the unborn, as being all Nazis under the skin and worse than the Germans–and all to great acclaim among those least likely to have served in uniform (as is the case today). Phillip Roth was awarded the highest humanities award by Obama, whatever it’s called, for his autobiographical Portnoy’s Complaint, in which he fantasizes about shtupping little Catholic school girls in uniform, not, as he says, because the sex would be any good, but as a way to fuck America’s Catholic men who disproportionately died and were maimed in the mistaken belief the jedis of Europe needed saving.

    In Nick Kellerstrom’s excellent review of the evidence disproving the Holocaust, Breaking the Spell, he footnotes a quip that goes something like, “There were 2.4 million jedis in German occupied territory during WW II. After the war, 4 million applied for reparations. Sadly, the other 6 million were lost.” With the official plaque at Auschwitz at 1 million and pending revision to no more than 176k, or so, pending the release of the Red Cross records, and, with the total impossibility of the other 2 million having been gassed to death with diesel fumes and then cremated en masse in small fields near other eastern Polish camps, the Holocaust turns out to be the biggest holohoax in human history.

    But, to your point, no serious historian doubts that jedis were the vanguard of the communists in Russia, who were easily the worst mass murderers and torturers in history, just as they were during the Spanish Civil War when large numbers of jedis from Brooklyn joined the “Abraham Lincoln Brigade” to take part in the rape and mutilation of clergy and burning of churches in Spain. No serious historian contests this latter holocaust at the hands of the jedis, or their motive, either.

    Unless one has worked with jedis on Wall Street or some other field they dominate in NYC or other big city, he may intellectually understand the hatred they have for him, while without emotionally grasping its visceral, atavistic depth oozing from every askance glance, he remains incapable of responding in kind. Their clinical paranoia marked by grandiosity–that signature Freudian insanity of hearing what the goy’s saying but knowing what he’s really thinking–no doubt has them actually believing that in every encounter the congenial goy hates them as much as they hate the goy.
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