I had a mentor once - an ethnic writer I greatly admired for his intellect
and grasp on historical issues. I hoarded every word he ever wrote, and
I have his picture in my office to this day. In his young years, he was
headmaster of an exclusive school for European royalty offspring prior to
and during World War I - as I remember it, in a castle someplace in Southern
Germany.
I met him only once, when he was a very old man and I was still a young
woman. We spent one day together, and he was full of stories of international
finance and behind-the-scenes manipulation he kept on pouring into me as
though his time were running out. As it turned out, it was, for he died
soon thereafter. I can think of very few people who have so impacted my
thinking.
He was the first who used the word "Hofjuden" - a brand new word
for me. Today I know that he described the New World Order, already in the
planning stages in those years.
One time, he said, he was commissioned to deliver a classified, political
message to England. I have forgotten the details surrounding this message,
or why he was the one commissioned to deliver it, but I remember to this
day his words:
"I had this letter in my pocket. I thought, naively, that no one knew that it was there. But bullets stopped flying. Trains stopped and were re-routed. Borders opened and let me pass. That's when I understood the hidden powers that stood behind the thrones."
This story came to mind when I read one of the R. K. Hoskins books, entitled
"In the Beginning. . ." It has this passage right up front:
"In the Holy Land during the War of the Crusades, crusaders defended a seaport being besieged by Muslims. The siege had lasted almost a year. The fighting had been violent; many had died.
Suddenly, trumpets sounded. Instantly the fighting stopped. A camel train appeared, one camel plodding along in front of the next - a long line stretching back into the distance. The Arab armies parted; the gates to the city opened, the drawbridges dropped. One after another, camel after camel - an endless chain of camels plodding into the city. Two thousand of them.
On the back of each animal rested a cargo so precious that it could have made a man rich for life - if he could but seize it. But few tried. Those who tried and failed were punished with a painful death.
Once in the city the camel drivers directed their charges through twisting, narrow streets down to the harbor. There their cargoes were off-loaded by sweating stevedores who re-loaded them on waiting Christian ships. Then, flying flags bearing the Christian cross, the ships set sail through the blockading . . . fleet, which parted to let them pass. As soon as the last ship had departed, the . . . ships re-established their blockade, the camels departed, the gates closed, the drawbridge raised, and arrows began to fly and large rocks again were catapulted against enemies as the fighting re-commenced."
I now know that what we are experiencing has to do with the NATURE of
the camel train and cargo. I believe that some of us will live to see that
cargo seized. I sense that it will be a spiritual confrontation every bit
as much as it will be an earthly wrestling match of the conventional intent,
and it will be the Mystic Cross against the Star of David. And I know in
my heart it will be bloody on both counts.
What I am trying to convey by hammering away at the grotesqueness of the
"Holocaust" is not about obscure details about the Holocaust per
se. It is about the SYSTEM that cuts across times, borders, tribes and nationalities
- a system that permits the passing of the camels and the cargo, while we
stand by and gawk, and then resume the fratricidal wars the moment when
we get the nod.
Ingrid
Thought for the Day:
"To determine whom we can thank for most of today's problems, we must look into history to see who owned the land in the past and who owns it now."
(R. K. Hoskins in "Vigilantes of Christendom")