Epilogue. Dec. 2016. Zac looses a more modest election…
“As for the despicable Zac Goldsmith, what a satisfactory comeuppance for this entitled, insignificant, Brexit trustafarian. How fitting he should not just inherit his father’s fortune but reap the whirlwind of the original referendum campaign launched by Sir James Goldsmith, an unsavoury tycoon who tried to bankrupt Private Eye. Labour’s Wolmar was quite right to use his post-vote speech to say many Richmond Park voters had swung against Goldsmith junior after his “ghastly, disgusting” mayoral campaign with its failed racial assaults on Sadiq Khan.” Polly Toynbee, The Guardian
A fairy tale on the $emitic wars: London’s major
It was like Miracle in Milan, the classic neorrealist story of Italian cinema, which of course only happen in movies. But we live a scripted world, where politicians are on the need of script-writers to further move their ‘agenda’, along the bonfire of ego-trips and vanities, in which mankind dies – as old men in front of its demise, we look back into the past and invent our future, not to look at the real one: our growing obsolescence to the world of metal we have created, and now depart from us.
So the British scripted a plot for their ‘other true royalty couple’ of their the Financial Media elite, to take on the visible place of London’s major.
They didn’t choose a secondary figure, oh no. They chose the absolute royals, no more no less than the heir of the Goldsmiths and the heiress of the Rothschilds, the two families that hand in hand rule the country on the backstage, since the XVII century and the days of the Glorious Revolution, when the Stuart kings were kicked out and substituted by the Dutch king and its jewish bankers and stock-market. So who else but ‘Zacamanda’, all together know deserved the p(a)lace?
As always that ‘Glorious Revolution’ was an eventful moment for the progress of the species (not our but the animetal one). The entire Europe was on the verge of committing yet another holocaust against the Financial-media/Industrial-Military Complex ‘owners’, in Holland, where the modern world of placebo democracies masterminded by the Financial-Media press had evolved fast in a small place (as always happens in biology: smaller places accelerate the processing of information).
In Holland, hand in hand by the hand of Sephardim banksters and Dutch slave-traders, the world we know ruled by corporations dedicated to make machines, mostly of war, and debt slaves, mostly of war debts, was born(today with the arrival of the Industrial r=evolution we prefer atrophying machines for peaceful consumption and work).
The Herren XVII, the administrators of VOC, the first company, had taken over the Amsterdam Town-council, then over the parliament, buying the sites, and then over the kingdom, who after a century of mass producing gunboats for slave traffic, paper-money for speculation, artillery for the 30 years war, and all kind of national debt-slaves among the aristocracy – having moved from the national to the International arena, in a scalar expansion of capitalism that would be forever with us – were the most hated people of the planet. Everybody was against them, and so Louis XIV sent its artillery against its gunboats… by land. And so he was at the doors of Amsterdam.
Then it came a bold move, let us the people of Holland sacrifice their lives to cover our escape with the gold of the nations. So yet, again in another last ‘train to brooklyn’, this time to London, the dutch-jewish elite took their king, all their best boats, loaded with gold and whatever else of worth, depleted the Amsterdam bank of gold, the Stock-market, the armoury and took them all to London, while opening the damns drowning the calvinist pious slaves of the corporation that so well had defended them.
And alas, they moved to London. It was all well prepared. Lopes Suaso, de sephardim had paid 2 million guilder, a ginormous sum for the age to every M.P. to oust their legitimate king and put the Dutch king and then the German one, in power, while the financiers created a city within the city, The City, with a private bank of debt usury, the Bank of England, a private stock-market to keep doing slave trade and gunboat production, the London Stock-market. And moreover, now they were protected by waters, and nobody would ever assailed them, because as the ice protected Russia, the water protected England, and Europe was at their mercy, for ever since.
The Anglo-Jewish empire was born. And so the bankers came from Frankfurt, to take over. Mr. Rothschild and Mr. Goldsmid, were the top masters of the Kahila, and soon the biggest shareholders of the Bank of england, as the first wave of sephardim receded and the Askhenazis, in a global trend given its northern European, industrial origin, took over.
The importance of the Goldsmith and Rothschild in the future making of England cannot be stressed enough. No doubt they are among the 10 families most important in this shaping, including the Churchills and the royal puppets. Indeed, Mr. Rothschild would say that ‘no matter which puppet seats in the Throne of Saint George, as long as Issue his money, I own the empire’. But Mr. Goldsmith was second to none. When in the XIX c. not happy enough with owning the empire, the Jewish elite wanted to take seats on the parliament, to close monitor its investments as they had done before in the Dutch first capitalist ‘democratic’ nation, they confronted however a small problem – the british crown had traditionally made swear their M.P. over a bible, and they would not. This was a tradition, which could have easily be done with, paying just lip service to it. But the chosen of go(l)d would not degrade themselves swearing allegiance to a heretic Iesu, which Talmud says it is just a mazerim ‘animal’, burning on a pot of ‘merde’ on Hell, for ever, for trying to give souls to the goy (sic).
So there won’t be such degrading act among the chosen. The oath had to be changed. It was around the 1830s and the wave of railroads started in earnest, financed by the FM masters in that city, so the moment was propitious as all the Aristocrats of England realised they had to move soon from slave traffic to railroads to keep their ladies happy with the last fashions coming from France. And so alas, the Rothschild and the Goldsmid took advantage of it, asking for the removal of the oath.
We have an extensive legacy of letters from the Goldsmid archives, in which the great men of the ages, all coach Mr. Goldsmid on how to arrive to the desired end – the removal of the oath so the Jewish could buy ‘up to 1/3rd of the sites which we all know are for selling’, and take the positions on court… The Duke of Wellington, Lord Holland, Montefiore, Lansdowne, Lord Bexley, the long list who helped is the entire British aristocracy, which would not work but receive duly in stock its price. And so the oath was removed. And one Mr. Goldsmid became the first barrister to enter court service, the Rothschilds took over the M.P. site of the City to keep it in property, and one Solomons became the Sheriff of london.
There was not though yet a major of London. And that was the place that was on sale for the elections. And so the true Royals decided to take it. How could it go wrong? Look at them, the perfect askhe-nazis, proud of the askhe-culture and nazi-genes. I had one girl-friend like that in NY, during the times I would go to Hampton parties, swim naked on the Atlantic club top roof pool, overseeing Central park (women could not enter so you could be naked). It was too say the least a bit out of touch with the commoners. So were the parties of my even earlier youth at string fellows and Annabels, though I must say the native blondes had more brains to throw on the small talk, more like I imagine Amanda and Zac, but again any similarity between the city crowd and the commoners cockneys was a gulf as that of the oxbridge vs. the east london accents.
And yet, as in America in the British empire they love their masters, they know not they are debt slaves, they only hear legends. And they are so well mannered, so seemingly charming, and humble. And so ‘beautiful’.
Look at them, how handsome and yet how delicate, how ecologically correct with their ‘water’ evian on the corner of the pic, mind the detail – they should surely be in evilwood. I’m sure don’t need to tell you who is who, who is Khan, the small guy with big nose, the royals have almost lost the old neanderthal hook, the Khans are as they come, by the zillions, all those pakis which had the chuptzah to come here, (no like us, we have the ‘right’ to come here, they threw us in the 1200s, after burning Abraham of Lincoln, the richest man of the land and all its debt books!!! How they dare, we always come back).
So alas, the Goldsmith father rared the son for the place. He became a stalwart of ecologism – that is the father founded a newspaper called the ‘Ecologist’ and handled it to their 20 some old son, Mr. Zac, so he could do doodles on the fiction print, while the family polluted huge tracks of land with his gold mines. And now, after paying due respect to the allies anglos, with Mr. Boris as major, the prize was theirs. Mind the reader, the very well and polite financial-media elite always lets the prize first for the host. So the Federal Reserve had a ‘first’ anglo president, and then… all of them including the present one, a you. So you know who you are. And the place is now you-rs.
So they thought. What went wrong? How could the royals be rebuffed? Alas, the point here is the miracle thing. Truly a miracle. I can’t imagine it happening in America where the land of the serfs do not have any freedom of mind even to imagine what is going on on the backstage.
And compare them with the small guys, this ‘yes we Khan’, what does he think he is a house negro like Obama? A house negro has 400 years of well-trained servitude and we trust them. They know how to say ‘master are we sick’, when we catch a cold. but a house paki? Those are not yes trustable. They are pakis, terrorists, no doubt of it, almost 2 billion terrorist muslims running around the world, 1/4th of mankind, but I forget, mankind is in talmud an ‘animal race’, so that should not surprise us. They are beast. ‘Treat them like men’, because they would get offended, but remember what they are, advices Maimonides, in the ‘Guide to the perplexed’ that master piece of duplicity considered the highest philosophical work of the yous, compared in some scholarship to the Organon of Aristotle (-;
Anyway, there was a miracle in London, and really I do not know what went wrong. Im pretty sure Zac neither, and Amanda is furious. How did those Goy voted to this Goy, didn’t they recognised the chosen. This is a problem which the yous always find. Society seems to tolerate them as the masters of debt, owners of all what is worth to own, but they do not want to have double jeopardy. They trusted a Paki, not to have them on top of their finances, on top of their ministries, on top of their parliament, on top of their companies, on top of their judges, on top of their lawyers, on top of their press.
This was after all just a ‘mirror’ position with little power, only with 2 decades going, or else what those 2 string fellow fellows know about anything (apart from Ecology of course, and the panonica butterfly)? Why they didn’t give it to us?
My opinion is that it was a final smart move, on honorific places we must have people from the people, a puppet english king on the palace, and a paki new immigrant on the honorific township, look good. This was a false move, too visible. Can just imagine, Mr. Goldsmith and Miss Rothschild also on top of London? What was left to take, by those ‘germans’, who do also have the crown?
So the brits gave themselves a break to feel they were still free. That fantasy they have uphold after one thousand years of slavery to the Germanic hordes and you overlords that invaded them.
Maybe when they were basques, 3000 years ago in stonehenge they knew what was freedom; maybe when they were romans, in their baths, they knew what was freedom, maybe when they were britons in the arthurian times, they knew what was freedom. But from hamlet to shylock to Dickens, to Zac, they have been $laves.
But well-to-do ones. If one wishes to be a slave there is no doubt today there is no better place than England. This we might say. Heroes of mankind remain very few. Mindful humans hardly a breeze. So to believe into the manifest destiny of the species – to die for its machines and weapons, its gold and egos, no other place is better than in the centre where all happened before.
Today the centre in London, no longer NYC, despite Trump-eteers of the American Empire. NYC has become too ‘you’ for the taste of the rest of mankind, too obvious in the zealot, messianic go(l)d spirit of the Masters of the Universe.
Humans are after all human, and the next generations recede to the human pleasures, which I am sure the Zacamandas of this world practice at full swing. I still meet some of them in the Balear Islands, from time to time, but less and less with age, which does not age well like the old Portos and Sherries we always provide.
And the Americans have not learned yet to enjoy, to take a moment of breath in the bid for extinction and self-suicide. They are running faster, the faster the better to the final hour. They love it, and when it happens, they will want to be ‘first’ in line. Doesn’t matter that to be first is for the squad. They are very germans at that. No sense of humour, i’m afraid. The brits do have – likely coming from their old Spanish genes, as one scottish put it to me: we are the only two nations who are constantly laughing at themselves.
So to have a good time, nothing better than London – no need to show the planet that you are having one. Some discretion is due, and this is what Zacamanda in a moment of enthusiasm forgot. As long as the slaves do not know who is the black hole of power that controls them, as long as the stars think to be free and radiant, the centre of the Universe, all will be all right. Mistake corrected. Now Mr. Khan can pretend to run on the City.
Meanwhile on the other side of the pond, but more to the south, while the Americans think Trump or no-trump (the other is totally irrelevant a puppet of Wall Street, pretending to be politically correct, so it is all Trump or no-trump); the Venezuelans are also making an apparent choice Maduro or no-maduro, but it is not a choice, because the other is very relevant, it is Capriles, yes, also a ‘you’, a wealthy man, an investor, representative of international corporations, which will bring the corresponding multinationals to ‘privatise’ the Oil industry, the second largest deposits of oil sands, like those that now are burning a small Massachussets in Alberta.
So the Orinoco sands are worth the fight, as the pollution of the entire Orinoco Jungle for the profit of North-American companies is not a small business. Alas! To be safe and sure we have put this Capriles to take power and become the next president of Venezuela. And for all reasons, it has it easy.
Because the true problem of mankind are not their animetal elites, but the absolute incapacity of the good guys to do things well, without machines, by pure human stamina, ethics and intelligence. This was Chavez, a true hero we said farewell as he deserved, a Cesar, a Mule, duly eliminated by a too-son to come suspicious Cancer. He was a hero of mankind. Maduro is just an idiot. And when you have an idiot after a hero, a Brutus after a Caesar, it lasts short.
I recall my travels through Venezuela, when young. I met on the coast two beautiful germans in a Mercedes Group, and spirited them away one night convincing them to do the wild thing and drive to the Orinoco. One was my lover the other, I hoped to be the lover of my lover (-; but in San Fernando Apure, while changing cars at an agency, the Military before Chavez in power, we run with a sergeant in the International Car Rental agency, who told me flatly showing ostensibly his weapon – you have 2 women, that is too much, can I borrow one. Alas, this is South-America without Chavez-like characters, the conquistador with right to rape the natives. So I told in english to the girls, leave now, without me. Don’t ask. And lost them both, while distracting the man, who tardy as all military are, took his time to realise.
And so to avoid personal harm, I convinced him to share women in the local whorehouse, which was run, curiously enough by an ex-terrorist Basque woman, who became a good guide to the River. That is Venezuela, a place of dolce fare-niente people run by ‘others’, the military, the corporations, take your pick, both are equally bad.
That was what truly made Chavez a hero. He was a true democrat, a capable leader, an honest hard working mule. And that is why he had to die so young, as all human heroes. The game seems rigged against us.
The Rockefellers and Rothschilds last much longer. And the best thing they can do, is not to do anything. There was one running through London in my youth in a violet Cadillac, a covered one, who liked hamburgers, marihuana and cheap tramps – an oddity in the group of mostly cocaine boys. We used to party with a group, which included the son of sissy-James Bond ‘2’, guess whom, Lord Byron 13, the heir of the Guermantes of Proust fame, and other luminaries of future England. None of them ever worked and should work what for?
This is the West you know. The future ‘duke’, once told us he had met the heir of Sumitomo Bank, who lived in a building at Holland Park alone. So we went to meet him and take it to party. He wouldn’t leave the building. He had to go through some exams for the London School of Economics – that fascinating place ‘founded’ by the Fabians (a brit socialist group), look at them now.
So yes, London is again the capital of the world, because it has NOT lost all human reference for good and bad, compared to America – the continent is close, and a good place where to suck debt slaves, buy good wine and good art and bring some cheap workers to clean the floors, as long as we can return them back – which is what the Brexit thing is all about – to eliminate the insurance policies, welfare perks and rights of the commoners, which they enjoy in the continent. So the Brits twisted once more the Europeans (how many times to count, 1) Miss Thatcher with his back check 2) The City with his banking exceptions to use the euro to speculate against 3) Mr. Cameron to get out emigrants without skills and cut their benefits and those of the brits.
And so to show how free we are – or rather how perfectly enslaved are our native house negroes, with Empire Pedigree – we do referendums. A referendum in Scotland, knowing we will win it with everybody against it, to liquidate the Labor party, with the usual ‘nationalist upsurge’ – the oldest of the tricks already explained by Marx during the crisis of the train of 1848, when all socialist groups were diverted by Nationalism.
And it worked. Nationalist scots, right-wing of course, now have eliminated labor from its stronghold on the mining belt.
Then we will have a Brexit referendum, used to gain all this advantage over Europe ‘a la carte’, and be safe that not a penny will go to cure the emigrants and the brits at home, with the wealthiest elite and the poorest welfare system of all the Union.
Only the poll on who the Londoners want to represent them in sumptuous ceremonies, the true owners of the World, the Goldsmith and the Rothschild, the Zacamanda of this eternal fairy tale for the 0.002% or Mr. ‘yes, we Khan be house negroes like everybody else’ missed the point or rather returning the black hole to its spider-web.