ZGram - 11/28/2003 - Prisoner of Conscience Letter # 41

[zgrams at zgrams.zundelsite.org]

Zgram - Where Truth is Destiny

November 28, 2003

Good Morning from the Zundelsite:

When I changed the format of my Zgrams, I explained that I wanted to 
show the world the many facets of Ernst Zündel - how he thinks, what 
interests him, why he feels the way he does, how he acts so 
energetically when needed and leans back a moment later to savour the 
beauty of life.  I have now known him for close to ten years, and his 
versatility still surprises me no end.

So here he is, sitting on his stack of transcripts in his cell - no 
chair yet;  too much of a demand for Canada! - and what does he do? 
He corresponds with a 92-year-old lady in England - and the two of 
them have an extended dialogue about the essence and meaning of 
words!  He has sent me some of her letters, and they reveal a mind as 
razor-sharp as few exist in our mushy world. 

She writes:

"Just consider.  Not only is a word nothing, but the idea behind it 
is equally nothing.  If someone had a great, workable idea that could 
change the world for the better and make life worth living, and he 
died suddenly before as much as expressing it, the most famous 
surgeon could not discover it in a post mortem.  If I have an idea, 
it is wholly mine, but if I express it to 400 people, it has become 
enlarged according to how many members of the audience can hear and 
understandŠ" 

And then she shows him what she means:

What is a word - that non-enduring entity
That has no form, no being of its own,
That occupies no space and cannot be
Captured in flight from lips to mind by methods known,
Pinned down and held in thrall for us, that we
May contemplate this strange anomaly
Which, given life, yet has none of its own
But may live on in minds - and in such minds alone?

What is a word with neither length nor breath
Nor height, nor weight, nor color, form or substance,
That, coming to life upon a single breath
Dies almost at the moment of existence?
Ten million-million words are born each day -
Falling like autumn leaves, they die away.

The printed characters upon this page
Do but present a word - as pictures may
(painted in this or in some bygone age)
Convey a scene of mountains, trees or streams
To some receptive mind which knows that they
But bring to him the image of a scene
And not the scene itself;  just so a word
Cannot be seen or touched, but only heard.

A word with power we can't gauge may mean
A generation's youth is pledged to war
Where lives not lost in some fierce battle scene
Are scarred in heart and mind for evermore;
While some more reasoned word may offer peace
In ways in which all enmity shall cease.

And words there are that, cheating death,
Do live a life immortal in the minds of men
Outlasting those great works of ours that give
Such glory to their architects and then
Some few millennia having passed away,
These marvels also crumble and decay.

We know not where to seek for Caesar's grave
The ruins of the forum merely stand
Marking the spot where those foul traitors gave
Support for murder by a Judas hand.
Thousands of years have gone, but still, today,
Caesar's last words live on:  "Et tu, Brute?"

Ernst tells me:

"We are looking at some beautifully thought-out, stripped 
to-the-bare-bones idea this old lady has come up with and shared with 
us in the very late evening of her life.  I look upon it almost like 
an abstract painting, stripped of all surrounding clutterŠ"

And, then, abruptly:

"I am preparing for court tomorrow and the day after tomorrow.  One 
more disgusting, torturous tour of duty.  I was a little alarmed by 
your pinning so much hope on these court dates.  Please, my lady - 
think of the evil, hateful, corrupt forces arrayed against me/us. 
They have almost achieved what they had desired for 35 years and 
loudly shouted from the rooftops.  They are not going to uncage the 
eagle without a fight, so you  must be prepared at all times for a 
disappointment - but be comforted by the knowledge that just about 
all is done in our power, with the means open to us and affordable by 
us, to bring about a change. 

If ever there needed to be proof cited that these people are evil and 
work to the detriment of the countries in which they live and work, 
and how they corrupt everything they touch - my case is it!  Their 
vindictive streak is evident in every aspect of my case - from the 
initial kidnapping to the treatment you and I received at Blount 
County Jail, by the shenanigans behind the scenes in the Knoxville 
and Cincinnati courts.  Hitler called them "the bacillus of 
decomposition" and "a race of the mind."  Those two concepts alone 
make him an extraordinary thinker!

This period in our lives will pass - when, is at present obscured 
from us.  Carry on with the things we set out to achieve. I will do 
my share to make us succeed.  That's my promise to you, on this day 
before court. 


[END]