Books for Everyone!

6 June 2021

He DOES Exist

I can attest from profoundly personal experiences that an emotional loss, a grievous loss, is akin to a physical loss, a pain that must be healed, as best it can, by each person in her or his own way.

I can also attest that the ghouls around you, denying that there is anyone or anything to grieve, reap the wrath of God, but also the wrath of the bereaved. After the death of my father when I was a child, any and all signs of his existence ceased to exist in my childhood home. His widow led the wicked attempt to exterminate his memory from the face of his family, and from the face of the earth, although she milked the professional widow routine for as long as she could.

The stings of outrage and the furor from hypocrisy know no bounds when a beloved has perished at the hands of evil, and the evil gets to live not just another day — but to spit in the faces of the grief-stricken families who must shoulder their losses . . . alone.

But they are not alone. God is with them. The silent prayers and deepest empathy of many others are also with them, every day that the soulless sycophants try to take even more advantage of the disadvantages of good-hearted, noble people, trying to rise above their own rage. That rage is perfectly justifiable. It is a passion that does not go away, and ought not go away, because that rage is the will to live. And it is part of the passion to protect the unprotected.

Those who have died in the line of duty are honored less each day by the cowards who vilify life and duty. Those who died seemingly needlessly because the political pigs at the trough demanded their next billion of blood money — those victims must be honored each and every day in this nation. Not through spiteful words or hateful anything. But through the unyielding force of a faithful will that believes justice will ultimately prevail: the evil doers will be punished. My beloved did not die in vain.

Perhaps the criminals will not be tossed into a maximum security prison after a decade or two of a circus sham trial with “coverage” by a fawning media. The headline remains the same about the wrongdoing: IT DOES NOT EXIST.

They know it exists, and they know we know it exists, and they know we know that they know it exists. Above all, God knows all that we mortals cannot even begin to comprehend.

Vengeance is the Lord’s. If Americans must learn one unbroken truth in this land of broken justice, it is that the victims of despots are not the ones who rot and sink and grovel in their own slime and crime. The infidels who gleefully engage in their own culture of death earn their conclusive comeuppance.

Hold your head high that you have been reverently empowered, by the love of your deceased beloved, to pray and to wait for mercy. You thus will rise to your own heroism. You will not become the villain who so savagely deprived you of even an opportunity to say farewell to your beloved. That cruelty will be repaid with exponential cruelties to the oppressive pinhead ogres.

Honor all of those blessed memories that can, with your benevolence, form a soothing balm during those moments when you seek to touch the face of your loved one, and there is but a memory.

That memory will not grow dim with time. It will deepen and take on new and beautiful colors, new meanings of destiny for you.

Your destiny has been revealed to you within the crushing weight of these crises of the past year. Those crises were obscenely created and fomented to seize power over free people. That such a vile series of deeds was perpetrated during an era of peace, only underscores this vital command from the dead:

Righting the wrong is now a long-term process. The swift justice of a vigilante creed won’t get it done.

The roots of hatred within the ghouls and sociopaths of any society run very deep. The roots of forgiveness must run even deeper in the souls of those who were so viciously and callously wronged by the soulless charlatans strutting and pronouncing their virtue and charity.

This war for civilization against the barbarians amongst us cannot be won by paying attention to every lie and phonied-up package of audio and video that merely prove the scams fell apart even as they were being concocted. Do not drain your soul of vigor by engaging in the vinegar of their venom.

Stay the rock-solid course of doing the will of the Lord, and of safeguarding the sacred memory of your lost loved ones. They are not lost. They live forever in the kingdom of Heaven, and in your love here on earth. The lost are the frauds who were found out long ago. They now cower and brazen it out against the forces of fate that they cannot escape.

That dire fate exists and it cannot be denied — by anyone. Their D-Day awaits them, just as surely as did the D-Day of 1944 that sacrificed so many lives to rid the world of Adolf Hitler and the Nazis. Those fiendish abettors of the Big Lie also believed in cheap labor and a pagan death culture led by a psychotic drug-addled corporal in charge of a Wehrmacht.

In Chapter 17 of THE DAWN, I quote der Fuhrer directly:

How would the Master Race ensure its master place? “There will be a ruling caste,” Hitler proclaimed, “A historical class tempered by battle and welded from the most varied elements. There will be the great hierarchy of the Party. . . And there will be the great mass of the anonymous, the serving collective, the eternally disfranchised, no matter whether they were members of the old bourgeoisie, the big land-owning class, the working class, or the artisans. Beneath them there will still be the class of the subject alien races; we need not hesitate to call them the modern slave class.”

No decent person can hesitate today to call “the modern slave class” the sweat shop workers of the People’s Republic of China and other far-off lands. I won’t hesitate today to call “the serving collective” the globalist pigs and their despicable allies in Corporate America.

More than 75 years ago, there were very different allies, democratic nations united to fight evil, not to profit corporately from it, while claiming to do the will of the people of their country. There were traitors back then, countless traitors to their own countries. In the United States, a willy FDR made sure to tell his closest associates that he deemed the double-dealing, double-life Lucky Lindbergh a Nazi spy.

For a time, it looked as if the warriors on the beaches of northern France on 6 June 1944 would be divided into two kinds: The boys who were dead, and the boys who were going to die. Through the forceful grace of God, a third kind of warrior emerged on those immortal white sands of Normandy. They willed themselves to claw and crawl and clamber their way off of those beaches. They carried on in the stead of all of those dead bodies they had to leave behind them in order to fight their fight, and to defeat evil.

Other young men, many of them boys, had, during the pre-dawn hours of 6 June, performed the airborne assault of the north of France. Casualties were also heavy. The warriors in the air were then joined by warriors on the beaches to realize the greatest invasion in the history of the world to free that world from the evils of Nazism and Fascism. Those heroes could not have explained the theoretical or political foundations of the macabre men they had to destroy. They knew only their duty to God, to country, and to the future of a free humanity.

We must fulfill a duty to God, to our country, and to the future of a free democracy. In so doing, we must speak our piece and honor our dead, and then we must advance from them, from there, to defeat the evil in our midst. The spirits of our beloveds are with us as we walk into the future. To stay behind, in some sort of mournful malaise, that choice does not honor our cherished dead. They wish for us to fight the battles they could not fight. They need for us to vanquish the enemy that assaulted them — in the name of a public health crisis!

Rage cannot be legitimately used for malice or bitterness. That instinctive passion is a force that must be channeled into a force for good, or it will destroy its own vessel. The price of freedom is always severe when any liberty must be regained, reclaimed, and defended against further plunder.

I close this essay with a quote from Winston Churchill. These statements shone brightly for me during the composing of THE DAWN. They shine just as brightly today for they lost none of their lustre, and never shall, for this lover of liberty.

Good night, then - sleep to gather strength for the morning. For the morning will come. Brightly will it shine on the brave and true, kindly on all who suffer for the cause, glorious upon the tombs of heroes. Thus will shine the dawn.