AND trips over a sneaky Jewish gnome statue, oy vey
In a 21st century Reich under the leaders who would have followed a Hitler who would have died a very old, natural death, say in 1987, there would be no non-Aryans in this area. Not even the non-Aryan tourists I saw en masse here.
I sat in a café on a pedestrian street close to the Opera House to watch the pedestrians calmly having a coffee and a slice of cake (Austria is expensive, I paid 17.4 €). I noticed that, among the white people passing by, the race was better than the ones I had seen the previous couple of days.
Recall that Austria is the homeland of Hitler, whose Aryans rank among the highest in the European IQ. Alas, it wasn’t long before I saw, holding hands, the first mixed couple: an Aryan male and a woman who was either Muslim or Indian. If Putin weren’t celebrating his victory these days, it would have been inconceivable to see so many non-whites in this sacred area! From my vantage point I spent about an hour and a half watching the people pass by. Eventually another mixed couple sat behind me. This time I didn’t hold back and took a picture of them from behind me, so my shoulder is visible:
If the contemporary Austrian were not an iniquitous person, it would be legal to execute this couple on the spot but, as we know, besides the Russians the Anglo-Saxons won the war. Recall that, because of Christian ethics, the United States began to repudiate anti-miscegenation laws long before the Jews took over its media: historical facts that American racialists ignore because they debunk their Judeo-reductionist paradigm.[1]
However, it isn’t clear, about the two mixed couples I saw, that they have already sinned against the holy spirit of life (once a mongrel baby is conceived, the sin can no longer be forgiven and the whole family would have to be sent to Auschwitz II).
Not long after I saw the third mixed couple pass by, but I didn’t have time to take a picture of them. The lack of real hatred among white nationalists is what I can’t stand—except Pierce, who dedicated one of his novels to a serial killer of mixed couples. (In conquered Austria these poor devils don’t have a First Amendment; a book like Pierce’s could never be published here!).
If I write harsh things in this entry it is because where I sat, so close to the elegant theatre that the teenage Adolf visited, would be hallowed ground in a world where the good guys would have won. It is a real sacrilege the sight of so many coloureds here.
However, I did get to see two women who could perfectly well have modelled Maxfield Parrish for one of his ‘nymphs on the rocks’ paintings. I also felt very good when a white woman passed by carrying her white baby on her chest. This reminds me of something I omitted when I visited Berlin’s Jewish Quarter: a very touristy place. I saw an Aryan couple with a couple of small children with pinkish-white skin and the most Scandinavian hair one could imagine: a very comforting moment for me, one of the very few good moments of the trip! But the number of non-whites I saw in Vienna never ceased to amaze me, even if it was impossible to tell who were tourists and who were residents.
Before taking the bus to my hotel, I made enquiries at the Vienna State Opera, which was showing Lohengrin in a couple of days! A pity, as I had scheduled that day to go to Munich. I entertained the idea of changing my plans but I was a slave to the day I was already scheduled in Frankfurt to return to the American continent. I still wanted to change my plans but I remembered what, a decade earlier, had happened to me at Shakespeare’s Globe in London: they put on black actors. Would the Germans do a similar sacrilege with Lohengrin, whose lavish 1936 production delighted Hitler?
So I didn’t change my plans and headed back to my hotel. I was struck by the graffiti on the other side of the street: inconceivable if patriotic Austrians and Germans had prevailed in the war. After some rest, instead of seeing Wagner’s grandiose opera in a couple of days, I went more modestly to Schönbrunn Palace to listen to some waltzes. Before entering the palace I spent some time in the very beautiful and well-kept palace gardens (all this will disappear, of course, when the Austrian Aryan disappears).
I would like to add something about these beautiful palace gardens. It hurts to see young women, beautiful Aryan women, walking alone there. They should be married, walking with their husbands and with children as beautiful as they are. But this is the world bequeathed to us by the individualistic liberalism imposed by the American Diktat. Then I left the gardens and headed for the concert hall.
I took this picture before the performance because, once the concert started, we were no longer allowed to photograph them. My fears about Lohengrin might have been well-founded! During the waltzes a duo appeared: a good-looking Aryan male and the Nigerian-born but Austrian-educated soprano, Bibiana Nwobilo. In several waltzes they embraced and the singer even kissed the hand of this female with her afro hair….
I never applauded the pieces in which the Nigerian sang, despite her excellent voice. What shocked me was that there were Viennese older than me: Aryans whose parents may have fought for Hitler, but they applauded with pleasure. If these guys had any vestige of Lebenskraft left, they simply wouldn’t attend any concert starring non-Aryans. All these people are victims of what I call the ‘ogre of the superego’: the perennial anti-Nazi propaganda that goes to the core of the Austrian soul with the same virulence that Monica’s frequent harangues struck young Augustine. The infinite power over the normies of the omnipresent propaganda that reigns in these lands never ceases to amaze me…!
The next day I continued sightseeing in Vienna.
To the humiliation of German speakers, here is another monument commemorating the Russian fallen in the Second World War. Kenneth Clark was right: to understand a culture, look at its architecture, including monuments, for there is nothing even remotely commemorating the German or Austrian heroes who fell in that war, or even their children. The millions of men, women and children killed by the Allies are worth zero. By contrast, in the zeitgeist at work, the Jewish victims have infinite value. The fact that urban guerrillas have not dynamited these monuments speaks of the ubiquity of zero Lebenskraft in the collective Aryan unconscious. The System has them controlled by pleasure, as Kerry Bolton saw so well about the degenerate Westerner, and Vienna has a very high standard of living.
I passed the avenue where, before WW2, the richest Jews lived, where we see an equestrian statue of an Austrian who fought against Napoleon. The opera house where Lohengrin was to be performed the next day was badly damaged by Allied bombing. Not far from there we can see statues of Goethe and Mozart; it is also a museum area. Further on we see the Parliament and it is refreshing to see the statue of Pallas Athena. But not far from there the Vienna quack (Freud) had his favourite café! Beethoven lived in Vienna for a while and in this theatre they premiered the Eroica Symphony, which made a tremendous impact on the pubescent boy I was decades ago:
Due to flooding, the Danube was divided into parts in Vienna. On the Danube Canal, an area that had also been badly damaged by gringo bombs in WW2, I saw an LGBT flag (the antithesis of the Nazi flag). It reminded me of the Ukrainian flags I had seen in government offices in Berlin.
Then I visited the so-called District II, a very large neighbourhood where Vienna’s Jews live. The district had been founded by Leopold I in the 17th century: the third largest community of European Jews after the districts of Warsaw and Budapest. The National Socialists weren’t like the Christian Leopold: they destroyed all sixty existing synagogues. This had been the area where Johann Strauss, the composer of The Blue Danube, lived: a sort of anthem of Austria that was also my love since 1968, when I was ten years old, thanks to Karl Böhm’s superb conduction.
Not far away is the huge church of Francis of Assisi. Christian ethics affects not only whites but also mestizos on the other side of the Atlantic. Mexico was the only country to protest when Hitler annexed Austria to his Reich. Even before that, the Austro-Hungarian empire was huge and its capital was Vienna, a far cry from the times of the lobotomised eunuchs I saw on this trip. In fact, a century ago Vienna was the third largest city in Europe, after London and Paris.
The Jew’s trip
There are several anti-Nazi monuments in Austria. On this day my tour guide also had a Scandinavian name, Ulrique, a woman:
Like Björn in Dresden, Ulrique repeated the talking points of the anti-Nazi regime. While my intention in Berlin and Dresden had been to discuss with Aryan males, on a paid tour it is impossible to do so: one simply has to follow the guide like a sheep wherever she leads us. When Ulrique said things that obfuscated me by pointing out what this monument to the victims of the Jewish holocaust meant, I took my camera up to the sky to photograph it. Because I was looking up I didn’t notice another monument on the ground: a monument dedicated to the Jews who, after the annexation of Austria, were humiliated by the state by being forced to clean the floors of Vienna’s streets.
The Jewish statue acted as a tripwire while I was photographing the other monument and I took a tremendous tumble! In the seconds after the fall I even thought that the blow had wiped out all the photos of my cell-phone I have been posting in this series! Ten days after the event, my left leg still bears the imprint of the bruise that resulted from the blow that even hit my left cheekbone on the concrete when I fell!
A Spanish woman came to pick up my notes where I wrote about my experiences in Vienna. I got up ashamed for not having seen the kneeling Jew ‘cleaning’ the street. Then, still following this tour of the anti-Nazi Ulrique, we entered the palace and museum of the Empress of Austria Elisabeth of Bavaria (‘Sissi’): a woman who took cocaine, of whom I don’t want to say much more except that her biography proves that, after Uncle Adolf, the monarchical system seems to us pure stupidity; and that only a racist dictator has the right to absolute power.
Leaving the museum of this emperor’s wife, I came upon the centre of Austria’s political power; that is, those who give licence to guides like Ulrique to say things that greatly obfuscate dissidents like yours truly. I was at the centre of Austria’s anti-Aryan regime that gradually exterminates its people through miscegenation—not exactly Hitler’s dream during the Anschluss…!
The neurotic Sissi, whose favourite poet was the Jew Heinrich Heine, is adored even in Hungary. Tell me who you adore and I will tell you who you are. Tell me who you hate and I will tell you who you are. No wonder Europeans are the way they are with such philias and phobias. Then I went alone to the busy pedestrian street near the Opera House that young Adolf was visiting to look, once again, at the people crossing it.
I have the impression that they are all white trash. Not in a genetic sense but in a moral sense. To paraphrase Eduardo Velasco, the contemporary European knows neither pain, nor honour, nor blood, nor war, nor sacrifice, nor comradeship, nor respect, nor combat; and therefore he doesn’t know the ancient Goddesses: Glory and Victory. I see zero nobility in the contemporary European. Zero courage. Zero honesty or curiosity to discover the true history of the Second World War.
It irritated me to see young women of childbearing age in the pedestrian street, stupefied with their mobile phones, walking and leading a life of their own instead of being, as in the beautiful Vienna era, showing off their husbands and children. Let there be no doubt: the Western lifestyle of our century is pure, straightforward ethnic suicide.
Demoralised at that sight, as well as the huge number of non-whites and whites fraternising with them, I took refuge on a park bench in front of a beautiful tree.
In a 21st century Reich under the leaders who would have followed a Hitler who would have died a very old, natural death, say in 1987, there would be no non-Aryans in this area. Not even the non-Aryan tourists I saw en masse here.
I sat in a café on a pedestrian street close to the Opera House to watch the pedestrians calmly having a coffee and a slice of cake (Austria is expensive, I paid 17.4 €). I noticed that, among the white people passing by, the race was better than the ones I had seen the previous couple of days.
Recall that Austria is the homeland of Hitler, whose Aryans rank among the highest in the European IQ. Alas, it wasn’t long before I saw, holding hands, the first mixed couple: an Aryan male and a woman who was either Muslim or Indian. If Putin weren’t celebrating his victory these days, it would have been inconceivable to see so many non-whites in this sacred area! From my vantage point I spent about an hour and a half watching the people pass by. Eventually another mixed couple sat behind me. This time I didn’t hold back and took a picture of them from behind me, so my shoulder is visible:
If the contemporary Austrian were not an iniquitous person, it would be legal to execute this couple on the spot but, as we know, besides the Russians the Anglo-Saxons won the war. Recall that, because of Christian ethics, the United States began to repudiate anti-miscegenation laws long before the Jews took over its media: historical facts that American racialists ignore because they debunk their Judeo-reductionist paradigm.[1]
However, it isn’t clear, about the two mixed couples I saw, that they have already sinned against the holy spirit of life (once a mongrel baby is conceived, the sin can no longer be forgiven and the whole family would have to be sent to Auschwitz II).
Not long after I saw the third mixed couple pass by, but I didn’t have time to take a picture of them. The lack of real hatred among white nationalists is what I can’t stand—except Pierce, who dedicated one of his novels to a serial killer of mixed couples. (In conquered Austria these poor devils don’t have a First Amendment; a book like Pierce’s could never be published here!).
If I write harsh things in this entry it is because where I sat, so close to the elegant theatre that the teenage Adolf visited, would be hallowed ground in a world where the good guys would have won. It is a real sacrilege the sight of so many coloureds here.
However, I did get to see two women who could perfectly well have modelled Maxfield Parrish for one of his ‘nymphs on the rocks’ paintings. I also felt very good when a white woman passed by carrying her white baby on her chest. This reminds me of something I omitted when I visited Berlin’s Jewish Quarter: a very touristy place. I saw an Aryan couple with a couple of small children with pinkish-white skin and the most Scandinavian hair one could imagine: a very comforting moment for me, one of the very few good moments of the trip! But the number of non-whites I saw in Vienna never ceased to amaze me, even if it was impossible to tell who were tourists and who were residents.
Before taking the bus to my hotel, I made enquiries at the Vienna State Opera, which was showing Lohengrin in a couple of days! A pity, as I had scheduled that day to go to Munich. I entertained the idea of changing my plans but I was a slave to the day I was already scheduled in Frankfurt to return to the American continent. I still wanted to change my plans but I remembered what, a decade earlier, had happened to me at Shakespeare’s Globe in London: they put on black actors. Would the Germans do a similar sacrilege with Lohengrin, whose lavish 1936 production delighted Hitler?
So I didn’t change my plans and headed back to my hotel. I was struck by the graffiti on the other side of the street: inconceivable if patriotic Austrians and Germans had prevailed in the war. After some rest, instead of seeing Wagner’s grandiose opera in a couple of days, I went more modestly to Schönbrunn Palace to listen to some waltzes. Before entering the palace I spent some time in the very beautiful and well-kept palace gardens (all this will disappear, of course, when the Austrian Aryan disappears).
I would like to add something about these beautiful palace gardens. It hurts to see young women, beautiful Aryan women, walking alone there. They should be married, walking with their husbands and with children as beautiful as they are. But this is the world bequeathed to us by the individualistic liberalism imposed by the American Diktat. Then I left the gardens and headed for the concert hall.
I took this picture before the performance because, once the concert started, we were no longer allowed to photograph them. My fears about Lohengrin might have been well-founded! During the waltzes a duo appeared: a good-looking Aryan male and the Nigerian-born but Austrian-educated soprano, Bibiana Nwobilo. In several waltzes they embraced and the singer even kissed the hand of this female with her afro hair….
I never applauded the pieces in which the Nigerian sang, despite her excellent voice. What shocked me was that there were Viennese older than me: Aryans whose parents may have fought for Hitler, but they applauded with pleasure. If these guys had any vestige of Lebenskraft left, they simply wouldn’t attend any concert starring non-Aryans. All these people are victims of what I call the ‘ogre of the superego’: the perennial anti-Nazi propaganda that goes to the core of the Austrian soul with the same virulence that Monica’s frequent harangues struck young Augustine. The infinite power over the normies of the omnipresent propaganda that reigns in these lands never ceases to amaze me…!
The next day I continued sightseeing in Vienna.
To the humiliation of German speakers, here is another monument commemorating the Russian fallen in the Second World War. Kenneth Clark was right: to understand a culture, look at its architecture, including monuments, for there is nothing even remotely commemorating the German or Austrian heroes who fell in that war, or even their children. The millions of men, women and children killed by the Allies are worth zero. By contrast, in the zeitgeist at work, the Jewish victims have infinite value. The fact that urban guerrillas have not dynamited these monuments speaks of the ubiquity of zero Lebenskraft in the collective Aryan unconscious. The System has them controlled by pleasure, as Kerry Bolton saw so well about the degenerate Westerner, and Vienna has a very high standard of living.
I passed the avenue where, before WW2, the richest Jews lived, where we see an equestrian statue of an Austrian who fought against Napoleon. The opera house where Lohengrin was to be performed the next day was badly damaged by Allied bombing. Not far from there we can see statues of Goethe and Mozart; it is also a museum area. Further on we see the Parliament and it is refreshing to see the statue of Pallas Athena. But not far from there the Vienna quack (Freud) had his favourite café! Beethoven lived in Vienna for a while and in this theatre they premiered the Eroica Symphony, which made a tremendous impact on the pubescent boy I was decades ago:
Due to flooding, the Danube was divided into parts in Vienna. On the Danube Canal, an area that had also been badly damaged by gringo bombs in WW2, I saw an LGBT flag (the antithesis of the Nazi flag). It reminded me of the Ukrainian flags I had seen in government offices in Berlin.
Then I visited the so-called District II, a very large neighbourhood where Vienna’s Jews live. The district had been founded by Leopold I in the 17th century: the third largest community of European Jews after the districts of Warsaw and Budapest. The National Socialists weren’t like the Christian Leopold: they destroyed all sixty existing synagogues. This had been the area where Johann Strauss, the composer of The Blue Danube, lived: a sort of anthem of Austria that was also my love since 1968, when I was ten years old, thanks to Karl Böhm’s superb conduction.
Not far away is the huge church of Francis of Assisi. Christian ethics affects not only whites but also mestizos on the other side of the Atlantic. Mexico was the only country to protest when Hitler annexed Austria to his Reich. Even before that, the Austro-Hungarian empire was huge and its capital was Vienna, a far cry from the times of the lobotomised eunuchs I saw on this trip. In fact, a century ago Vienna was the third largest city in Europe, after London and Paris.
The Jew’s trip
There are several anti-Nazi monuments in Austria. On this day my tour guide also had a Scandinavian name, Ulrique, a woman:
Like Björn in Dresden, Ulrique repeated the talking points of the anti-Nazi regime. While my intention in Berlin and Dresden had been to discuss with Aryan males, on a paid tour it is impossible to do so: one simply has to follow the guide like a sheep wherever she leads us. When Ulrique said things that obfuscated me by pointing out what this monument to the victims of the Jewish holocaust meant, I took my camera up to the sky to photograph it. Because I was looking up I didn’t notice another monument on the ground: a monument dedicated to the Jews who, after the annexation of Austria, were humiliated by the state by being forced to clean the floors of Vienna’s streets.
The Jewish statue acted as a tripwire while I was photographing the other monument and I took a tremendous tumble! In the seconds after the fall I even thought that the blow had wiped out all the photos of my cell-phone I have been posting in this series! Ten days after the event, my left leg still bears the imprint of the bruise that resulted from the blow that even hit my left cheekbone on the concrete when I fell!
A Spanish woman came to pick up my notes where I wrote about my experiences in Vienna. I got up ashamed for not having seen the kneeling Jew ‘cleaning’ the street. Then, still following this tour of the anti-Nazi Ulrique, we entered the palace and museum of the Empress of Austria Elisabeth of Bavaria (‘Sissi’): a woman who took cocaine, of whom I don’t want to say much more except that her biography proves that, after Uncle Adolf, the monarchical system seems to us pure stupidity; and that only a racist dictator has the right to absolute power.
Leaving the museum of this emperor’s wife, I came upon the centre of Austria’s political power; that is, those who give licence to guides like Ulrique to say things that greatly obfuscate dissidents like yours truly. I was at the centre of Austria’s anti-Aryan regime that gradually exterminates its people through miscegenation—not exactly Hitler’s dream during the Anschluss…!
The neurotic Sissi, whose favourite poet was the Jew Heinrich Heine, is adored even in Hungary. Tell me who you adore and I will tell you who you are. Tell me who you hate and I will tell you who you are. No wonder Europeans are the way they are with such philias and phobias. Then I went alone to the busy pedestrian street near the Opera House that young Adolf was visiting to look, once again, at the people crossing it.
I have the impression that they are all white trash. Not in a genetic sense but in a moral sense. To paraphrase Eduardo Velasco, the contemporary European knows neither pain, nor honour, nor blood, nor war, nor sacrifice, nor comradeship, nor respect, nor combat; and therefore he doesn’t know the ancient Goddesses: Glory and Victory. I see zero nobility in the contemporary European. Zero courage. Zero honesty or curiosity to discover the true history of the Second World War.
It irritated me to see young women of childbearing age in the pedestrian street, stupefied with their mobile phones, walking and leading a life of their own instead of being, as in the beautiful Vienna era, showing off their husbands and children. Let there be no doubt: the Western lifestyle of our century is pure, straightforward ethnic suicide.
Demoralised at that sight, as well as the huge number of non-whites and whites fraternising with them, I took refuge on a park bench in front of a beautiful tree.
