The Spiritual Struggle in Europe today Pt.2 "Christopher"

Posted on September 20, 2019

The Spiritual Struggle in Europe today  (Pt 2)

I'm going to introduce 'Christopher'. He is a writer's imaginary prop. Not real. His characteristics? Very real. Based on a hundred conversations, and a thousand instances of me-biting-my-lip.(and a few memorable occasions when I didn't).

Christopher, I can assure you…
*** is totally 'saved'. He has told me that, frequently, and he has (very generously) let me know he is praying for me. For my salvation. Because, he quietly tells me, he knows for sure, my heavenly future (I whisper this) is hanging in the balance. I have issues, he says, understanding 'the blood on the cross.'

*** is a Born-again Christian. Or a Catholic. A Protestant. Christopher is saved, going to heaven, no doubt, guaranteed.
*** knows the Bible. Boy, does he ever know it. Inside-out. Upside-down. In triplicate, exponentially, and in cursive. Christopher knows every verse.
*** loves Israel. He has been to the Holy Land several times. The Bible tells him he must support God's chosen people. The Jews are God's chosen people. So he is an ardent Zionist. Israel is America's greatest ally. Jews are good people. The best.
*** never doubts the Holocaust happened. He has (of course) personally been to Auschwitz. Six million Jews WERE gassed. Hitler was evil. The closest thing to the Devil incarnate on this poor planet. His church sponsors Holocaust survivors to come on a speaking tour, every year. With their tattoos, and their sad, crumpled, faded photos of their lost families. (“Terrible, Francis, terrible”)
*** loves his neighbor, as he loves himself. Just like God commands.
*** so he is very active in his Church welcoming refugees. They collect clothes, money, and lobby for more immigrant-refugees, and greater support for these poor unfortunate people.
*** his proudest moment was being photographed handing over a sizable check to a Jewish NGO maritime rescue sponsor. To support their noble work, rescuing desperate and drowning refugees in the Mediterranean.

A fine fellow, Christopher. Clean cut, short hair. Ironed shirt & pressed trousers. Never swears, or drinks, or smokes. Is getting married soon. Wishes to start a family. Christopher is a model of Christian charity.

Enter… this wretch. Moi. The one he is praying for. When I was a child, if I didn't like you, I'd flatten your bicycle tires. Or poke a stick through your spokes as you rode by.
As an immature adult, the instinct has stayed with me. I ask questions.
Do that, you discover things.

Christopher, I discovered, believes the End Times are here. Right now. He is waiting for the Rapture. To be swept up to heaven. I also discovered that his knowledge of current affairs (not to mention History) is rudimentary at best. I mentioned the Christchurch shooter. He looked baffled. I told him that a mass shooting had happened at a New Zealand mosque.
“Oh”, was about all he said. (shrug shoulders)

Christopher, I discovered, lives in a nice, pretty homogeneous, overwhelmingly White area.

Christopher is not very patient with Holocaust revisionists. Such as me. I expressed doubts. He looked at me. I sensed pity. A certain amount of irritation as well. Quickly covered up, of course, because, after all, Christopher loves his neighbor. Even sinners, like me. Who don't understand the 'blood on the cross.'  Adopting a tone you would reserve for a dense and petulant child, he quietly explains to me that he HAS BEEN to Auschwitz. He has SEEN the gas chambers. And he KNOWS.
(And I obviously don't).
I wonder if I will be re-arranged higher (or lower) on his dutiful prayers' list.

*    *    *    *    *

It is evening, and I am alone, quietly pondering my feelings about my Fellow Man, the Universe, and… God? I do that a lot. Just kind of musing to myself.

Firstly, I just 'wonder' a lot. Meaning, I do NOT know all the answers. I think of Christopher. He's very relaxed. He's got it ALL figured out. I have not.
Not even remotely.
I've never thought of myself as writer. More of a scribbler. Just doodling words, trying to figure stuff out. For myself. Because, unlike Christopher, I'm restless & dissatisfied.
Many scribbles were never finished. Or were they? They often ended on a puzzled, wondering note. Was that the point? Like these:  (click on any link)
“Starry, starry night”
“The ugly little turtle”
“The Master's return”
“The Road of Light”
or even the poems,
“Caution – small man rhyming”
How do you even begin to think… you've got it all figured out? We know nothing.
Yet Christopher, at the drop of a hat, will quietly explain to you the way it all works.

I think I dislike Christopher. In fact, after a beer, ceremoniously kicking him in the n*ts seems like a swell idea. Maybe I could hide some utterly ghastly bestiality-porno magazines somewhere in his car, where his fiancee would find 'em?

And that's the problem: he annoys the steaming ur*ne out of me. I know full and well that he (and his like) is/are NAIVELY enabling & promoting the RAPE of Europe. And America isn't far behind. I know he is totally suckered in by every damn historical lie that the Talmudic Mafia has ever systematically foisted upon sucker Goyim. He will NEVER defend ANYTHING by force of arms. He will live his life in his privileged, overwhelmingly White, homogeneous neighborhood, and believe that HIS GOD (who he carries around in a matchbox, in his hip pocket) is totally on HIS SIDE, and HE, Christopher, is SAVED and good, and I, the gun toting, foaming-at-the-rabid-mouth maniac, am a troubled child.

(“F**k. Bestiality magazines it is, donkeys & dogs doing it with Lesbians. Your fiancee is going to have a FIT, mister”)

I am a Christian. I believe. It wasn't always so. It's been a long, bumpy, and occasionally, violent road. But so often, I still prefer the company of honest Atheists & curious Agnostics, sincere Pagans & quirky Vikings, to these…

plastic, cardboard, soulless cut-outs masquerading as flesh-and-BLOOD++++

For Pity's SAKE, get some PASSION GOING. Nothing wrong with reading the Bible, but how about some HISTORY, some REVISIONISM, some knuckle dusters, home built guns, and urban sniper tactics?

Can we get MAD for once? Even, RAGING MAD?  Can we hear less about the Second Coming, Jonah-in-the Whale, Job-scratching-his-boils, and turn-the-other-cheek?  
How about the individual steps that make up the Force Continuum? All the way up to:


(I confess, my favorite line, at night, over the public address, from the orbiting helicopter)

When is all this Jesus-meek-and-mild, ooh-la-la, Praise-the-Lord nothing but a sophisticated EXCUSE for inaction? For cowardice? For head-in-the-sand (“Look, the rapture!”) dealing with screaming crisis? Living SHALLOW, when we need a head-down charge?

Get a GRIP. Europe is under SIEGE as never before.

Stand up, good people. Call it.

It's WAR.

Will real Christians fight, if they have to? Tooth and nail, bullets & bombs? To protect life and liberty, culture and our ancestral homelands? From invaders who hate us, and wish us dead? Who lust after our women and children, and who live off our labor? That they regard as their rightful DUES? Never contributing? Breeding like demented bunnies? Openly announcing our deaths and replacement? Just watch.

Will we fight? Mister…

“Damn and RIGHT we will…”

Last edited by Francis Meyrick on September 20, 2019, 4:37 pm

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