ZGram - 10/4/2004 - "New Zundel sketches on the web"

[zgrams at zgrams.zundelsite.org]

Zgram - Where Truth is Destiny:  Now more than ever!

October 4, 2004

Today I am going to make it easy on myself - just sending you a 
couple of links to a new batch of Zundel sketches and an excerpt from 
Ernst's book about the difficulty of producing these sketches. By 
now, I have close to 100 of them, precious collectors' items. 

We are NOT selling these  sketches over the Internet - we are giving 
away COPIES of them for any donation of $ 20 or more.  These sketches 
are the backbone of our fundraising efforts to pay for the horrendous 
legal costs to fight for Ernst's freedom - now well past $ 250,000, 
with the meter still running!

If you are on the other side - I KNOW I have some enemies on my Zgram 
list - you will be comforted to know that the Canadian taxpayer is 
footing the bill for keeping Ernst in prison and, if possible, keep 
him imprisoned for life. 

The previous, early sketches, now moved to the back on the 
Zundelsite, were quite primitive because the guards at the Detention 
Center, apparently under the direction of a Chosenite, were making 
life as difficult as possible for Ernst.  Below is one sample of A 
Raid in a Day of Ernst Zundel, copied from Ernst's book, "Setting the 
Record Straight."  ($10 plus postage, depending on where you live.)

But before you start reading, please take a look - and be patient if 
your computer is slow:

Political sketches:

http://www.rense.com/1.zunpics/artof.htm

More or less romantic sketches:

http://www.zundelsite.org/gallery/donations/index.html

For Zundel Watchers who ARE true-blue friends - and more are finding 
us every day,

I bid you good-bye for today.  Let me just say that things ARE 
happening.  Where they will lead, only the oracle knows.


=====


A Raid in a Day of Ernst Zundel

Doug Christie [Defense Attorney] called me yesterday morning with one 
of these always frustrating conference calls-lots of technical 
snafus! He was scheduled to have a three-way conference between 
himself, the government prosecutor MacIntosh, and Judge Blais. 
Cosmic static all around! There really has to be something going on 
cosmically or psychically in this [cursed] situation.  I have never 
ever in all my long years of litigation faced this kind of a thing! 
Ever! Not at the worst of times!

Doug said he would one more time raise the issue of no pillow, no 
sheets, no highlighter, pens, post-it notes, also no chair, and 
infrequent "fresh air" allotments.  He called me back, said the judge 
wanted written submissions on the issue of whether he was prejudiced. 
Then he would announce his decision on September 23rd if he stayed on 
the case or not.  

More suspense! More costs incurred by Doug!

About my inconveniences, Doug said that at first the judge hemmed and 
hawwed, but then apparently must have talked to MacIntosh, who 
promised to talk to some high-ranking official in a provincial 
ministry.  Imagine our judge, a former Cabinet minister, having to 
get together with Canada's highest Nazi war crimes prosecutor to get 
your husband a pillow-after months and months in this prison! 

That's how it was left. 

I was slightly skeptical about this cornucopia of goodies and 
amelioration to come.  What I had not told you before, in order not 
to upset you, is this: Those padded sheets I have been sleeping on 
since May 16, 2003 have not been changed in three months and ten 
days! They do better in Tajikistan or Outer Slobovia! Also, the 
prison doctor had promised to "prescribe" a pillow for me because of 
the rib cage discomfort, which he thought might be "acid reflux."  He 
also prescribed two arm wrist supports to help with the pain in my 
arms.  He thought it might be carpal tunnel syndrome.  

The gadgets arrived and sat for two weeks in the guards' office until 
some older, experienced guard saw the packages and an order by the 
doctor to give them to me to put on during the night.  He brought 
them.  I tried them on.  They fit and seemed to help.  However, the 
night shift guards, for some reason, are not all that cooperative. 
They definitely don't want to bend down to lift the lid on my plastic 
bin to retrieve these gizmos in the morning and give them back to me 
at night.  

I asked.  I was simply ignored by the guard.  He did not want to hear 
my request, even though he was writing something down on my chart by 
the door.  When I repeated my request, he shook his head in an 
annoyed way, as if to shoo away some fly.  No carpal tunnel relief 
that night! So just because the doctor prescribes something does not 
mean the prisoner gets the benefit!

By three o'clock, the hall outside my cell was abuzz with activity. 
Lots of guards! Captains! The captain who was the first to welcome me 
here in a Blount County prison style came into my cell, ordered me 
out into the hall, told me, "We are going to get you a pillow, some 
sheets, more regular fresh air, showers etc. -but first the guards 
are going to search your cell and take out a few things..."

What he was talking about were all those styrofoam cups in which I 
mix my Dr. Lorraine Day Liquid Diet-12 cups of very thinned-down 
apple juice or orange juice to "flavor" the fluoridated liquid, which 
I have a real problem drinking down each day.  Dr.  Day had said to 
me on the phone that this would help to get my blood pressure down 
naturally by thinning my blood.  I had already started that regimen 
in the Thorold prison.  There, the guards and security chiefs looked 
at that line-up of cups in my sink resembling urine samples, shook 
their heads, laughed-and that was that! Well, not so yesterday!

This efficient captain told me sternly, after I explained to him the 
reasons for the cups and the water juice diet, that it was against 
regulations to "self-medicate," that I was a hazard to myself, and 
that only treatment prescribed by the prison doctor and medical staff 
were allowed to inmates.  Out into the garbage went all my carefully 
saved styrofoam cups, along with spare juice containers I use to mix 
up my magic potion for the evening.  Everything went-either down the 
drain or into the garbage!

I had made myself some cardboard writing surfaces on my table.  They 
were all ripped up! Into the garbage they went! All my pencils, too, 
which I kept organized in little plastic cups in which we get pudding 
or apple sauce.  I had washed these out, dried them and sorted all my 
pencils according to color and kind.  Soft pencils were in one 
container, those horrible hard prison pencils in another.  A third 
container held the dull ones, which I would give to the guards to 
sharpen to make things easier for them, since they have to walk down 
the hall to do that. 

Now the guards were told to tip all of them in a pile on the table, 
and I was told by the captain that he was only going to permit a very 
limited number because, according to him, these pencil stubs, many of 
them no more than 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 inches long, present a "safety 
hazard" to the staff!

I was also told to sift all my court documents again.  I will be 
allowed to keep only a very limited number in my cell because they 
present a "fire hazard," although there is no smoking allowed and not 
one electric outlet in the entire cell. I spent all last night until 
the lights were turned off trying to bring order into that mess on my 
bed and table, to once again put like with like and see what I might 
need in court and what I can do without. 

So there you have it.  I had to give up my water diet, most of my 
pencils, most of my correspondence, and many documents and books, 
some of which you so kindly sent me.  I want history to record the 
lunacy of all this one day! We would need Melvin Belli as a lawyer 
and the strength of the Israeli Lobby to overcome institutional bias 
and inertia!

Imagine, my sweetheart-your husband being reduced to having to 
explain to you all this trivial stuff while civilization hangs at the 
brink of collapse!

[END]