(25.Jun.2020) Today is Thursday, and it’s hot out there. It is in fact too hot for photography and much walking around. Whence I decided to take a quick look inside the HeiligGeist Church Community House where there’s presently a dutch sale of antiquarian books going on.

The price today is 70 DKR (11 dollars), but I decided against buying anything today. Yesterday, however, I bought a couple, namely:

1. THE INVISIBLE WRITING. By Arthur Koestler. The Second Volume Of An Autobiography: 1932-40. London, 1954/1969, Hutchinson, 526 p, hardcover.

It may seem strange to some that I saw fit to pay 75 DKK (12,50 dollars) for this stray volume; after all I’m certainly no revolutionary, and the price is probably very nearly normal store price.

But when picking up the book and opening it I chanced to open on page 191 first rattle out of the box – where I read:

‘The Talmudic legend of the thirty-six just men’:

‘When I was a child, our Rabbis taught me that if the thirty-six men did not exist, mankind couldn’t last a day, it would drown in its own wrongs.

‘The thirty-six are not marked out by any rank or office. They cannot be recognised, they never yield their secret, perhaps they are not even aware of it themselves; and yet it is they who, in every successive generation justify our existence and who every day save the world anew’.

At bit further on, Koestler elaborates:

‘They are neither heroes nor saints, and their civic virtues all go against the grain of the régime they serve. They are motivated by a grave sense of responsibility in a country where everybody fears and evades responsibility; they exercise initiative and independent judgement where blind obedience is the norm; they are loyal and devoted to their fellow-beings in a world where loyalty is only expected towards one’s superiors and devotion only towards the State. They have personal honour and an unconscious dignity of comportment, where these words are objects of ridicule.’

Here’s another presently completely relevant observation (p.79):

‘It had also been hammered into my head, and into the heads of two hundred million Russians, that to pay undue attention to relics and monuments of the past was a sign of a morbid sentimental, romantic and escapist attitude.

‘The old folk songs were forbidden all over Russia, they would have evoked an unhealthy yearning for bygone days. Some classics which expressed a ‘socially progressive attitude’ – for instance, War and Peace, Oblomov and Dead Souls – were read in school and reprinted in cheap editions by the State Publishing Trust; the rest, including most of Dostoievsky, were, if not exactly banned, condemned to oblivion by the simple means of not reprinting them. (The State monopoly in publishing is in the long run a more decisive feature of the Communist régime than the concentration camps and even the one-Party system).

‘The Communist’s duty was not to observe the world but to change it; his eyes were to focus on the present and the future, not on the past. The history of mankind would start with the World Revolution; all that went before was merely a chaotic, barbaric overture.’

I suppose some of my readers are sufficiently well-informed to recognise that these reflections are probably as valid today in relation to the USA (and perhaps a somewhat lesser degree Europe) as they were in the USSR in 1920-1930?

Many of the particulars delineated certainly applies to the now ongoing revolution in the USA (and the budding, general World Revolution?) for which the conjured-up Covid-craze may just be the false-flag impetus?

Perhaps there IS no ‘virus’ at all? However there certainly IS a Coup-d’Etat (in Denmark at least).

I mean – if government (with or without Parliament) rules like there is no Constitution (Grundlov) – isn’t this then the definition of a Putsch? (link 1)

2. FRA HERMAN BANGS JOURNALISTAAR VED ‘NATIONALTIDENDE’ 1879-84. Minder, samlede omkring breve til mine forældre. Af Anna Levin, f. Ferslev. København 1932, Gyldendal, 209 p, nicely bound in calf.

Anna Levin was a daughter of the great newspaper publisher Ferslev. They lived in the former Hotel Royal, opposite Parliament.

From page 75:

‘Den 8. Marts (1881) var der souper og bal i den nystiftede Journalistforening. Jeg havde efter megen modstand og parlamentering faaet lov til at følges derhen med redaktør Hiort-Lorenen og hans familie.

‘Festen stod i Seekamps lokaler ved Holmens Kanal og var meget stilfuld under formanden Vilhelm Topsøes ægide. Bang var en del sammen med mig den aften, maaske generede det mig lidt, jeg følte vel, at det kun gav sladderen vind i sejlene.

‘Hiort-Lorenzen, som vi populært kaldte: ‘Hjorten’, fortalte dagen efter oppe paa redaktionen, at kammerherre Fallesen, der var blandt æresgæsterne, havde sagt til ham, at han maatte sørge for, at frøken Ferslew gav den fyr løbepas, og han desuden var kommet med forskellige bemærkninger om Bang og mig.’

The editor (of the leading Copenhagen daily, ‘Nationaltidende’, Hans Rudolph) Hiort-Lorenzen was the great-grandfather of my old friend Dorrit Lergaard, now in a nursing-home. (link 2)

Incidentally her features are strikingly like his and I suspect their characters are also much alike; H.R.Hiort-Lorenzen is delineated as ‘Nobel and full of ideas and initiatives’ (‘En fin og fornem mand, rig på temperament og idér’ – Poul Engelstoft in Dansk Biografisk Haandlexikon).

But with this I have to call it a day. I need to get home and have a nap as I didn’t sleep too well last night. The reason was that the yearly readout of our heat-meters had been scheduled for today at 9 a.m.

This includes a personal visit by a technician in my flat, a visit you can only cancel with difficulty. Of course this makes the occasion almost perfect for a hit-team set-up.

And a couple of incidents had made me suspicious.

1. Yesterday in the p.m. one of my neighbours asked me to take a key to his flat and handle the visit of the technicial for his flat also (like last year). Of course this gentleman knows very well that I’m not too happy with being slated for being alone in my flat with someone I don’t know anything about. And as the neighbour looked almost scared to death when I talked to him yesterday I figured he might have been asked by ‘the services’. (he’s a typical left-brainer and as such certainly no hero).

2. Day before yesterday (i.e. 24.June) we tenants got letter from the landlord’s new representative, a law-office, that from 1. July we had to pay our rent onto a new account. The (far too) short notice is of course likewise suspicious.

Why is that, you may ask? Because normally the letter would have been at least one more day underway; i.e. I would perhaps have received the letter on the 25.June in the late a.m. at the earliest.

This means – if I had been kidnapped/assassinated on 25.June in the a.m. my rent would not have been paid on the 1st of July and all my stuff might have ended up in the street.

And as I have a rather large collection of old plate cameras and associated paraphernalia this would have been unfortunate for my poor relatives (slated to inherit my stuff).

In fact I’m well aware, that one of the well-known photoshops in a large metropolitan city has been opened solely with the aim of selling my stuff, if I (as expected) would be assassinated sooner than later.

You think I’m kidding? Oh, but I’m not – and the CD with a complete listing of my collection is still missing – probably stolen from a law office.

3. This morning a newish, black Mercedes van, totally unmarked!, backed into the gateway to our courtyard. It appeared a carpenter had some work to do in the courtyard. But it’s quite unusual for a firm to use a completely unmarked van, I’m sure.
(Whereas I’ve noted mozzard apparently has a propensity for using new, black Mercedes cars?).

So, why didn’t I get scared and subsequently block the technician from entering my flat?

Because while sleeping in the early a.m. I had a fleeting vision: I saw a large slab of concrete, like the 6 feet slabs used to block traffic, being lowered onto a road directly in front of me. But the block was only about 15 inches high and badly worn and chipped so as to make it easy to jump.

Exposition: Someone placed an obstacle on my way, but it would be no problem for me to jump over it.

Hence I stayed calm and nothing adversely happened during the morning. But didn’t my neighbour perhaps seem slightly surprised to encounter my living body when I returned his key later in the day?

Of course you hardly ever know, if a set-up is planned as a ‘wet job’ or just as a false-flag – to make you feel harassed and become angry? That is – if you have no sixt-sense.

Update 26.Jun.2020.

This morning I tweeted:

“Early this morning in a vision saw my nephew’s little boychild had been stolen from his craddle. Of course mozzard don’t accept your right to sefdefence, but abide by the Samson Option philosophy: ‘If we cannot have it all, we’ill kill everyone’.”


Link 1.

Constitution Day (Satire)

Link 2.

The Country House

More links:

The Samson Option?

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