Jews, the children of Satan

[hoarder]

One has to draw a distinction between that which can be staged and acted out and that which cannot. Most stories fall into the former category. The deaths of ten million White people was not an act.

[Tumbleweed]

I think the jews that browse this forum must love Bigjon and hoarder and they must hate me and Jewboo.

[Jewboo]

I think the jews that browse this forum must love Bigjon and hoarder and they must hate me and Jewboo.

[Jewboo]

A paradise for psychopaths.

"We blame Hitler for this". "Hitler planned all this".

-Hoarder and Bigjon today in 2019

[Bigjon]

I think the jews that browse this forum must love Bigjon and hoarder and they must hate me and Jewboo.

I think it is exactly the opposite.

You present the image that the Jews wanted Hitler to present, the hatred and persecution of ALL JEWS and no one else.
They even changed what journalists in Germany reported to reflect the ALL JEWS narrative and dropped the reports that stated well over 90 percent of concentration camp prisoners were German's.

The last thing they want is for people to catch on to their total control of the media message and that Hitler was their shabbos goy.

If you read C of Z you will see how the Jews packed in to Roosevelt's govt to create what jooboo shows Jews in total control from WWI to today.

[Bigjon]

From Insanity Fair: chap 14

Hitler's Victory

Somehow this last obstacle had to be overcome. The cup of power could not again be dashed from
Hitler's lips, that would be intolerable. 'It seemed', said Göring two years later, 'that our laborious
efforts were to be thwarted at the last moment through a violent intervention of Schleicher ... In the
evening we heard that the Reichswehr was to be mobilized, that Schleicher was preparing a regular
revolt to prevent the constitutional formation of the Government. But the Führer saw to it that the
execution of this plot was made impossible.'


This was the last story whispered into the ear of the aged President. Schleicher was going to march
in from Potsdam with the Reichswehr and arrest him, Oskar, Papen, Hitler, put them all in a
fortress, in order that power might not fall into the hands of National Socialism. The story was
presumably the product of the same minds that conceived the Reichstag fire and other like exploits.

So that fellow Schleicher was thinking of sending troops to arrest him, Hindenburg? The
excitement in and about the Palace and the Kaiserhof Hotel was terrific. Without further ado
Hindenburg signed the decree making Hitler Chancellor.

That is how it all came about on January 30th, 1933. So is history made. Berlin was buzzing like a
beehive from morning till night, the nerves of four million people were quivering like harp strings.

Only the very ill, very poor, or the deeply enamoured were not moved on this day by lively hopes
or fears for the future.

I walked Unter den Linden to the Wilhelmstrasse, thinking back to Armistice Day 1918 and
forward to what might be coming. I felt that this was the final breakdown of the peace.

The Brown Shirts were hilariously jubilant. The last trench had been taken, the brown armies had
the freedom of the streets, even of the coveted Bannmeile - that square mile of streets in Central
Berlin where the Ministries and other Government buildings are situated, within which political
demonstrations had never been allowed.

I stood at a window of the Foreign Office that night and watched them tramping endlessly past, the
Brown Shirts, while their bands played Fridericus Rex and the Horst Wessel March. Hour after
hour they poured with their torchlights through the once forbidden Brandenburger Arch into the
promised land of Unter den Linden and the Wilhelmstrasse, marching with the triumphant ecstatic
air of soldiers taking possession of a long-beleaguered city.

Opposite me were two palaces - the old and the new Chancellors' Palaces, one a grey, ponderous
building in the Wilhelmian style of architecture, the other a clean-cut, four-square building, a
typical product of the Germany of 1918-1933.

Behind a lighted window of the old building stood a massive old man. The night air was chill and
they wouldn't let him have the window open. His dim old eyes saw the river of torchlights flowing
past, his ears heard the crash of the bands and the tramp of the Storm Troopers. What visions of
Königgrätz and Sedan and Paris and the proclamation of the German Empire at Versailles and long
years on the barrack square and Tannenberg and Verdun and the Somme did he see at this moment,

some seventy years after his first parade?

I saw him nod his head continually as the bands blared and the Brown Shirts goose-stepped past,
throwing their heads back and their eyes to the right to salute him. But they were not there to
honour him. His day was done. The salute to the old man, dimly seen behind the lighted window,
was perfunctory.

Fifty yards farther down the street in the new Palace was another window, on a higher level, open,
with the spotlights playing on it, a younger man leaning out. An American Jewish newspaper man,
an acquaintance of mine, soon afterwards to be expelled from Germany, found beauty in the scene -
the tumultuous brazen music, the tramp, tramp, tramp, the ceaseless cheering of the crowds, the
blazing torches, the bellowing of the loudspeakers, the old man behind the lighted window and the
younger man who leaned far out of the spotlit window, saluting.
'Hitler looks marvellous,' he said.

The old and the new. Field-Marshal and Bohemian Corporal. Hitler and Hindenburg. Tramp, tramp,
tramp, blare, blare, blare. Hour after hour they came tramping through the Brandenburger Tor down
the Wilhelmstrasse. 'Die Strasse frei, die Reihen fest geschlossen - Hoch, Hoch, Hoooooch!'

The lighted window went dark. Hindenburg had gone to bed. I went off to write. Hitler, the
spotlight still fastened on him, old General Litzmann dimly seen behind him, leaned far out into the
Wilhelmstrasse, surveying his Reich. The Vienna destitute, the man of all trades and none, the
battalion message-runner, the political hired man sent out by the Reichswehr after the war to spy on
his kind, the man who by his own account had never done a real day's work in his life, had got his
first job - Chancellor of the German Reich.

[hoarder]

I think the jews that browse this forum must love Bigjon and hoarder and they must hate me and Jewboo.

In the present day, it's in the interests of Jews to isolate those who tell their secrets. If they are isolated from the rest of the goyim, the latter will never learn those secrets. What better way to isolate tellers of secrets than to attach Swastikas and images of Hitler to them?

[Jewboo]

If you read C of Z you will see how the Jews packed in to Roosevelt's govt to create what jooboo shows Jews in total control from WWI to today.

Oh. Hitler is to blame for what Roosevelt did.

[Bigjon]

Oh. Hitler is to blame for what Roosevelt did.

That is an interesting take on it.

I guess what i'm trying to show is how the Jews like complete control of ALL of the principal participants in their little game of Jews as world commander.

Including Hitler or someone in a position to pull his string.

Roosevelt was one of Hitler's big dance partners.

[Bigjon]

Chapter Sixteen
SPIRIT OF POTSDAM


Oh, did you see? He has quite blue eyes.' A girl, who had been straining her tiptoes to peer between
the helmets of the Reichswehrmen, turned excitedly to her mother. Hitler had just gone by, to join
hands with Old Hindenburg over the tomb of Frederick the Great in the Garrison Church and
pledge Germany to 'the spirit of Potsdam'.


His eyes were about as blue as the Blue Danube, and anybody who ever sees the Danube blue
should take a colour photograph and frame it. The Danube has every virtue that a river should have
and I love it; it is for me a friend and a brother, and a peerless highway; it is magnificent, but it is
not blue.

If Johann Strauss only wanted a rhyme to Au he might just as well have taken Grau.
Donau so Grau, tum-tum, tum-tum,
Durch Tal und Au, tum-tum, tum-tum.
No, you can't do it. You can't waltz to a grey river. It hadderbe blue.


So with Hitler's blue eyes and the young lady of Potsdam. They had to be blue.

It was the beginning
of the cult of Hitler among German women. Nothing succeeds like excess, and the female
population already had a terrific Schwämerei for him. Afterwards I saw women crowding around
him in hundreds, trying to kiss his hand, touch his garment, weeping from a surfeit of bliss at being
in his presence.
Weeping women will accompany Hitler on his way through this vale of tears.

An hour later I sat in the gallery of the Kroll Opera House and watched Hitler take his place in the


Chancellor's chair. He first entered Parliament after every possibility of opposition or counterargument
had been ruthlessly suppressed. I marvelled as I looked down on him, who had changed
into the brown uniform and sat with Papen beside him.

According to his own story he drifted aimlessly about Vienna before the war, as do innumerable
pieces of human flotsam and jetsam to this day, and never found a job he could keep for very long,
never toiled hard with his head or his hands for meagre pay as other men do, to keep themselves
alive and decent. His Socialist fellow workmen threatened to throw him off a scaffolding unless he
went quietly; in private conversation Hitler must be infuriating.

In the war he was an obscure battalion orderly. After the war he was used by the Reichswehr as a
spy to keep the military authorities aware of what political movements were hatching in Munich.

Then, still afire with the Great-German, Anti-Jewish politics he had absorbed in Vienna, he joined
the little group of men that was later to become the National Socialist Party, came to be their leader,
and for the next dozen years spent his time addressing meetings of his own supporters,
accompanied to and from them by an Al Capone bodyguard and surrounded at them by Storm
Troopers. The only difference in them was the degree of applause, which became greater as his
supporters multiplied.

Open debate with an adversary he never knew, except on a small scale at the beginning. He avoided
it, for he cannot debate. It upsets him to be challenged and he gets angry and loses control. In a real
Parliament he could not have lasted, so that the timing of his first appearance in Parliament to
coincide with the suppression of all opposition commands admiration.

The Reichstag on that day felt just like a bomb must feel immediately before it explodes. Only one
thing -- short of the death of Hindenburg, which could not be long delayed -- now stood between
Hitler and absolute power: a Bill giving him authority to do what he liked, without Parliament and
without regard for President or Constitution. Such a bill needed a two-thirds majority in the
Reichstag.

Hitler introduced his Bill, in his famous 'Give us four years' speech. His Parliament was in a
theatre, and all the theatrical trappings of National Socialism surrounded him.

Göring, massive and
glowering, towered over him in the Speaker's chair. High up, the heads of two stalwart SS men
poked through a hole in the wooden curtain over the stage; no doubt good shots, they kept a close
watch on the people in the public galleries. The brown-shirted phalanx of Hitler's deputies, among
them several men whom he was to have shot a year later, tumultuously cheered every sentence.

The
Centre, under Kaas and Brüning, sat prim and decorous, trying to look as if they really dared vote
against the Bill. The Socialists, who had to vote against it or become the laughing stock of history,
were a picture of dejection. Against the wall by them lounged a thick fringe of armed Nazi SS and
SA men. Outside the House masses of Storm Troopers, posted there by a thoughtful stage manager

who forgot no detail, shouted in chorus threats of the things they would do if the Bill were not
passed.

It was the last appearance of the great German Socialist Party, that had fought the Kaisers and
Bismarck, had in the war kept alive the idea of humanity and peace in Germany, and for its pains
had been saddled by the Allied Powers with the task of carrying out the Peace Treaty and kicked
hard in the pants for fourteen years while engaged in doing so.

When Hitler came to power he inaugurated in Germany a military despotism far more menacing for
the outer world than that of the Kaisers, and yet he was treated with infinitely more consideration
and respect than the German moderates by Germany's former enemies. How can Germany fail to
learn the lesson of this? How can the cause of peace and justice and humanity ever flourish in
Germany?

Then the Prelate Kaas got up, a son of that Mother Church which can always yield and always wait,
which in history has so often been on the side of inhumanity and cruelty if only these were arrayed
in the robes of a Most Catholic Majesty or something of that sort. The Catholic Centre, modestly
announced the Prelate Kaas, would vote for the Bill.

The battle was won. The Centre votes just gave the Bill its two-thirds majority and the Nazi regime
the semblance of a constitutional foundation. Absolute power was Hitler's' cloaked for the nonce
only by the thin shroud of a non-committal deference due to a failing President.

I walked through the Tiergarten and Unter den Linden. Hitler, standing bare-headed in his car,
drove between thick hedges of Storm Troopers to the Wilhelmstrasse. The crowds surged to greet
him. The cheering crashed about him like salvoes of gunfire. Germany had 'given him four years'.