Yesterday I phoned the desk clerk at Mannheim prison and requested a brief interview with the German patriot Sylvia Stolz. My request was denied. I then asked if I might enjoy a jocular, non-political conversation with the prisoner of conscience, Ernst Zündel. Again, my request was denied, my eventually being referred to some attorney general whose name I cared neither to note nor remember.
The clerk, however, was decent enough to assure me that both subjects of my enquiries were being well fed. I expressed my gratitude in as much as I was able to assure him that I myself expected one day to partake of the pleasures afforded by Mannheim’s culinary facilities. Yes, he said, bacon is on the menu: Rewe bacon. (I love Rewe bacon.)
The day will come when I shall be described by the Shining Ones as a bacon-eating pervert. In the eyes of the Great Unmentionables, a bacon-eating pervert is a man or a woman brave enough to tell the truth.
In Germany, untold thousands of such perverts sit in prison for telling the truth about gaping anomalies the historical record. Bacon-eating perverts come in all shapes and sizes, serving time according to the degree of severity with which they object to the mendacious nature of the Soviet European Union and its concomitant ‘holocaust’ religion.
I also try to tell the truth, and to hell with the danger. I can’t help it. It was what I was taught at home and school. I read books. Lots of them. Or at least those that haven’t been burned. When someone asks of me my honest opinion, I shall give it to him plainly and simply and I care not one jot for the secret police who may be taping every word I say (yes, they really do exist in Germany).
I’ve said loud and clear, in print and in word, exactly what I think of their ‘holocaust’ propaganda and yet the fuckers refuse to arrest me. I wonder why? There is no other mouth in Germany as contentiously loud as mine.
I can only surmise that we, as Great Unbelievers in the Defining Moment Of History and members of the bacon-eating races, have been dismissed as beyond rehabilitation by Europe’s kosher lawyers. No doubt, they are perturbed by the thought that bacon is the least savoury item on the Big Bagel’s menu for those of us destined to fry in hell’s kitchen and are compelled to keep us waiting while the ‘carte du jour’ is changed.
Spare a thought for the purveyors of prison-issue bacon, who most certainly have a vested interest in ensuring that heretics such as myself remain on the fast track to a tête-à-tête with the German Holocaust Inquisition and their Soya-eating Judeo-Fascist cohorts in Brussels. “Don’t quit,” I can hear them saying.
I therefore took the liberty of writing last year to the Justice Minister, one Mrs Brigitte Zypries, and informed her in no uncertain terms that I am highly sceptical of the eminently disprovable claim that 6,000,000,000 billion Jews were gassed prior to an open air grill and barbecue party on the occasion of the Most Significant Event In World History.
Disappointingly, the good lady saw fit to furnish me with no reply. (Would you?) I find myself free of foot, despite the fact that Ernst Zündel, Sylvia Stolz and Germar Rudolf remain incarcerated for having made much more intelligently pertinent observations, albeit perhaps in pursuit of their selfish desire to consume vast quantities of free Rewe bacon.
I have now come to the view that it takes a special kind of person to reject the fantastical ‘holocaust’ narrative and find himself in the slammer before you can say, “Gulag Archipelago”. Perhaps someone who loathes discount Rewe bacon and expresses a preference for vegan nutrition, the consumption of which I must confess would be a punishment more than I could possibly bear.
So, while we’re waiting, let’s do some serious denying. I deny everything. I deny your fucking holocaust. I deny your 9-11 mythology.
I deny you any control over my mind, including what I think, write and say.
I deny the legitimacy of this government. I deny the legality of the economic system under which we live. I deny you the right to abridge my natural rights as a freeborn human being. I deny the veracity of the history books that I did not write. I deny the truthfulness of anything that took place without my having witnessed it personally.
I deny the lawfulness of impositions placed upon me by your fascist-corporate system of usurious slavery. I deny your fake democracy. I deny you your continual lies and unashamed disinformation. I deny the acceptability of your greed and your mendacity. I deny that anyone has a future in the despised Soviet-Zionist European Union.
I deny and reject everything you stand for.
But never, absolutely never, will you deny me my right to free speech, liberty, and the dignity of a life lived with honour and integrity.
If that somehow aggrieves you, then arrest me or kill me. Either way, you can’t deny me.
Mike James is a retired ex-journalist and translator who left England in 1992. He now lives alone in an isolated log cabin directly on the border of Switzerland and Germany.