“A Day in the Life of Robert Mallet” is an Orwellian tale that is a little too close to our current reality… and in a day and age in which people are being imprisoned for writing and publishing books, it brings up some issues that are truly worth thinking about.
Satirizing anyone or anything that is not Jewish, especially anything European, is fine in our current culturally Marxist controlled society, but if anyone even dares to point out any facts about the Holohoax, and how ridiculous and dishonest its claims are, one is immediately branded a racist anti-Semite…. After all, telling the truth can be anti-Semitic!
Just one of many horrific examples is the case of two heroic and honest young European men, Mr. Simon Sheppard, and Mr. Steve Whittle, who were actually imprisoned for distributing a comic book called “Tales of the Holohoax”. This booklet, unlike many a history book distributed to children in school, actually contains verifiable facts and common sense. So dangerous is the act of actually thinking that when these two men fled to the United States, the “land of the free and home of the brave” they were arrested, jailed and extradited to the UK where they were actually sentenced to several years in prison.
The Holohoax is part of what amounts to a Jewish supremacist religion, an article of faith, not a historical event. One is supposed to believe with no evidence, and against all available facts, and all common sense. Blind faith is necessary since, after all, actually looking at the evidence overwhelmingly demonstrates that although certainly some of the people who entered war time camps, which were much like the internment camps for the Japanese in America, not death camps, died, but the fact is that most of them died of typhus. Here is one of the cartoons used in “Tales of the Holohoax”, referring to the fact that Anne Frank died of typhus, and that her memoirs were written in ballpoint pen, which had not been invented yet.
I was taken off of a website called Goodreads because I mentioned the fact that unlike Anne Frank, we do not even know the names of the 2 million European women and little girls, as young as six, who were gang raped to death by the Judeo- Bolsheviks. I was called foul names by Jews for pointing out my concern about this, and told that I needed to be bulldozed like activist Rachel Corrie, who was murdered in Israel. Goodreads, of course, did not remove the foul mouthed abusive Jews . Instead, they removed me because, according to them, my caring about, or even mentioning these small European children who were killed, who you can see in this article, was both “anti-Semitic” and “illegal”.
And so, Dear Reader, if you think the following tale is only fiction, think again…..
This article is reprinted from INSTAURATION –JULY 1981–PAGE 23-26
He woke to the sound of Anne Frank’s voice, reading from her work. Her voice came from the television set in the other room, the living room. He could hear his wife, Joan, preparing breakfast in the tiny kitchen.
He rose slowly and dressed reluctantly. From the shabby bedroom he walked into the equally shabby living room. He did not lift his feet quite free of the floor as he walked, and his worn shoes made a scraping sound on its gritty surface. The family ate around a small table in the living room. His children, Peter and Nancy, were already at the table, waiting listlessly for the meager breakfast.
The black-and-white television set dominated the small room. It was built into the wall so that only the screen was visible. There was no on/off switch, channel selector or volume control. There were knobs for focusing and adjustment, and a printed notice on the wall read: “Failure to keep this set in focus and proper adjustment is a crime, punishable according to the Code.” The State controlled the time of transmission, the material, and the volume, which was always high. The usual broadcast schedule ran from six to eight, morning and evening.
It was a crime, punishable by the Code, for anyone in the apartment (or in any apartment) not to watch the program during those hours. As the Code put it, “It is permissible not to watch the program if the citizen is moving around in his apartment or performing any necessary household function (sleep, dishwashing, repairs, etc.). At such times, the audible section of the program will still be available. What is not permitted is to be seated in the living room, for instance, and doing something else (reading, playing a game, discussing, etc.).” The set was fitted with a monitoring device to pick up such infractions, as well as incorrect focus and adjustment. It was possible to go to a bedroom to avoid a broadcast, but only occasionally. If the monitor picked up a living room devoid of watchers too often (and no watcher knew how often that was), “a crime was inferred,” and inference in such a matter was as conclusive as a “monitorable breaking of the Code.” The Mallets, like most families, watched all programs. For a period, long ago, they had avoided some programs (by hiding in one of the two small bedrooms) on a carefully staggered basis, but after a while that seemed too much trouble.
While Robert Mallet and his family watched any program, they did not expend what little curiousity remained to them wondering about its authenticity. Anne Frank, for example, had been dead for well over one hundred years, so she couldn’t be speaking to them live. On the other hand, it might be possible they were very hazy on such questions -that she was speaking to them by means of a preserved film clip. But how could she have both hidden in World War II and yet been available for filming? If it wasn’t a film, then it must be an actress impersonating her. The whole question was too confusing, and the answer didn’t mean anything, anyhow, and none of them had the energy to pursue it if it had. The apartment was cold and that made them even more lethargic and indifferent.
All they knew, finally, was that they were required to watch the program, and so they did. And it itself was only a tiny part of the whole, the suspension or freezing of all time in the greatest event in human history, the Holocaust perpetrated by the Germans in 1939-1945, and subsequently endorsed by all non-Jews. In A.D. 2046, the State had acknowledged this fact by adopting the Einstein Calendar, which superseded the Christian Calendar. According to State History, the plan for such a transposition had been found in the famous scientist’s papers after his death. Among other arguments for the change, Einstein had written: “The so-called ‘Christians’ have given up all rights in the scientific community (which governs all other aspects of living) by acting in such an un-Christian way. This applies obviously to the Germans for perpetrating the Holocaust. It applies with equal force to the rest of the so-called ‘Christian’ world for allowing it to happen. The new Calendar should start from 1945, the year in which the full horror of the Holocaust was uncovered in its entirety. Thus, 1946 should be 1 P.H. (Post Holocaust), 1947 2 P.H., and so forth. This dating should not seem arbitrary to the ‘Christian’ world. After all, they date their Calendar from the birth of a Jew; they should have no trouble shifting to the deaths of six million Jews as a new starting date.” Under the former Calendar, Robert was living in the year A.D. 2084. Under the current Calendar, he was living in 139 P.H. And just as the former Western Calendar symbol ized the start of true time (and to a degree, the freezing of time) in the birth of the Western God, Jesus Christ, so the new Calendar symbolized the start of a later, truer time (and, to a much greater degree, the freezing of time) in the death of the new Western God, The Jewish People.
In its prime in the Middle Ages, Christianity was most successful in freezing time in Jesus Christ. Thereafter, until the Einstein Calendar was instituted, there was a steady deterioration in that ability. Now, the new religion, a bare 139 years old, far transcended the success of the Middle Ages. Mass communications and total State control combined to ensure that nothing before or after 1939-1945 had any meaning. And that, with certain necessary exceptions (all Jewish history, for instance) carefully handled, nothing before or after 1939-1945 had ever happened.
Anne Frank completed her reading, and was immediately followed by the Atonement Section of the broadcast. That morning it featured Elie Wiesel, the 20th-century author, reading selections from his books, with emphasis on those passages which claimed that salvation for anti-Semites (all non Jews) can only come through recognition of Jews as Chosen, and by Perpetual Atonement for the Holocaust. His reading was particularly apposite because his viewers had the impression that he had known Anne Frank intimately.
The Mallets finished breakfast and left the apartment, the children for school and Robert for his office. Joan left shortly afterwards, hunched in her worn cloth coat, her pale face set in its permanent grimace of worry and resignation. She carried a shopping bag, which she held in both hands, her thin fingers clutching it tight.
The city was as shabby as its inhabitants. It had once been a typical American metropolis, so the change was considerable. There was little or no outright destruction of buildings or services, and almost no litter, but nothing had been properly maintained, so deterioration had been unchecked, and the result was a lifeless, gray city.
Enormous, carved stone statues of important Jews from the past loomed over intersections and filled the treeless open places which had once, long ago, been parks. The statues were of Jews from all periods and indiscriminately mixed. Moses stared across a deserted playground at Irving Berlin. Freud stood next to Golda Meir before a boarded-up building which had once been a public library.
At his office, where he was a sub-supervisor for consumer goods, electrical appliance division, Robert punched in on the time clock, and went into the large room where he worked. He had a desk but no telephone. There were forty-odd other workers in the room, and only the supervisor had a telephone.
Robert stood beside his desk, as did all the other workers beside theirs. On the stroke of nine, they all bowed their heads, and a voice intoned over the loudspeaker system: “We shall now make our Daily Pledge.” The voice went on to give the Pledge, duplicated by Robert and his fellow workers in word-perfect simultaneous synchronization.
“I give thanks to The Jewish People for having shown me the way. I give thanks to Israel for having given Its life that I may live. I pledge that I shall be worthy of my debt to The Jewish People and The Jewish Cause, and to the hope of life eternal in Israel. I pledge my life here on earth to atoning for the sins of my fathers, which are my sins, and those of all my sons, against The Jewish People, and to working for the glory of The Jewish People, here and in Israel.”
Then Robert sat down at his desk and began to read and sort papers. It was, as he had told Joan many years before, meaningless work. There was no real connection between what he did -making projections on local electrical appliance production under optimum conditions -and the actual production of electrical appliances in the area. His projections were filed here in the office, and copies were sent to the various electrical appliance manufacturers in the area, but he knew for a fact (now he was hazy, but he had known, definitely) that they were never consulted by those manufacturers, who were always far behind their quotas. And even if they had produced their quotas, public demand was small because of low electrical power allocations, so the appliances would not sell in quantity, anyhow. Nothing about any aspect of his job mattered. He sorted papers, filed his projections, and dreamed. He dreamed when he was actually sorting, filing and projecting all so simple and automatic as well as when he was pretending to do so, so he really dreamed very nearly all the time in the office.
It was cold in the office, as cold as in the apartment, and he was chronically malnourished, all of which increased his dreaminess, and gave his dreams a heightened reality. He did not, naturally, go to sleep while dreaming -he daydreamed while going through the motions of work -but he was so weak physically, and his work was so meaningless, that his daydreams excluded the reality of the office very nearly as completely as if he had been asleep.
This morning he thought of his children in school, and what they would be studying. The curriculum had been fixed for a long time, now, and at sixteen Peter was being taught on that day precisely what he himself had been taught on the same day when he was that age. If he remembered correctly, it was the Begin Dogma. This was based on the assertion, in the year 36, by Menachem Begin, then Leader of The Jewish People, that the Germans, who had perpetrated the Holocaust, could never cease atoning for It. “Nor their children, nor their children’s children, nor any generation of Germans to the end of time and beyond,” as Mr. Richardson had written it on the blackboard for them to copy, “can avoid the guilt, nor Perpetual Atonement and Payment for that guilt.”
At the Council of New Jaffa (formerly New York) in 92, the Dogma had been expanded by unanimous vote to include all anti-Semites (for practical purposes, (those with any European blood, no matter how far back, and no matter where in the world they lived.) Those anti-Semites with German blood (one great-grandparent was considered sufficient) had to wear yellow arm bands. The rest of the anti-Semites were grateful for not having to wear arm bands, but understood that the dispensation did not lessen their guilt, which was equal to that of the Germans.
Robert also remembered that in the same history class a boy named Paul Saddler had asked Mr. Richardson, “What about people who aren’t of European origin?”
“In this State, there are no people who aren’t of European stock,” Mr. Richardson replied. “We are all of European stock and hence all anti-Semites and hence all guilty.”
“Are Mexicans of European stock?” another boy had asked.
“Certainly,” Mr. Richardson had said. “They have Spanish
“But once there were other kinds, weren’t there?” Paul
persisted. “Black people, and Indians, and Orientals? People
who weren’t of European stock?”
“Yes,” Mr. Richardson said, “We know there were. But they all went away.”
“Where to?” Paul asked.
“Back to their native lands,” Mr. Richardson said, showing some impatience.
“But how?” Paul asked. “My grandfather told me that once there were millions of blacks here. And suddenly they all disappeared. How could so many of them been sent back to Africa in such a short time?”
Mr. Richardson had said they had and that was that. Then he asked Paul where his grandfather was, and Paul said he was dead. Paul wanted to ask him some more questions, but he wouldn’t talk to Paul any more. Paul asked him where the Indians went when they went back to their native land, but Mr. Richardson wouldn’t answer him. Later Paul told the other boys he didn’t believe anything Mr. Richardson had said.
Paul wasn’t in school the next year. They said he had gone to Cleveland.
Robert had known another boy in school who didn’t believe much of what they were taught, but he didn’t parade his disbelief before the teachers. His name was Donald Harrow. He liked Robert and told him one day that there were still jews in the world. That they were in that very city. That they were the Chiefs.
Robert was shocked. The State taught that the few jews who had survived the Holocaust had all, in time, migrated to Israel. By 71, there were no jews anywhere in the world except in Israel. And then Armageddon had come, and the entire population of Israel, along with the actual State itself, had ascended into the heavens. After that, Israel was synonymous with what had been called “heaven” in the B.H. (Before Holocaust) period. Robert believed that. He also believed the rest of the State’s teaching: that if you lived an exemplary (Atoning) life, you would go to Israel, where you could, for all eternity, continue to pay for the Holocaust. But with an important difference from earthly Perpetual Atonement in that you were allowed to be in Israel, to be with The Jewish People. If you did not live an exemplary life, you were banished to Germany, which was synonymous with what had been called “hell” B.H., and would have to spend eternity Atoning on an agonizing level with the Germans.
But Donald Harrow told Robert that none of that was true. “The Jews didn’t leave Israel and go into the sky,” he said. “They left when they could take over everything else. They simply left -none of them wanted to live there -and let the Arabs have it again. After all, it had served its purpose, which was to be a stepping stone to control elsewhere, especially here, where they made up this crazy religion -just like the old Christianity with the names changed, they know what we like -and they run it. They are the Chiefs.”
“Oh, no,” Robert breathed. He was shocked at everything Donald said, but most of all at the heretical notion that the Jews still existed in the flesh on earth. The State and the Code were wholly based on the fact that there were no longer any Jews anywhere in the world. They had been destroyed, first by the anti-Semites in the Holocaust and then by Armageddon, a disaster which they had, evidently, willed on themselves in their despair at the everlasting anti- Semitism of the rest of humanity. State History was vague on just how they had willed Armageddon and their own destruction, but adamant about the fact that they had done so. The point of life as Robert and his fellow citizens understood it was Perpetual Atonement for exterminating the Jews first, in the Holocaust (in which all non-Jews had participated, one way or another); and second, at Armageddon, to which the Jews had been driven (again, by everyone else). If there were still Jews anywhere but especially in The State -The State’s religion and rationale became meaningless.
And if the Chiefs were jews … but it was unthinkable. The Chiefs ran everything in the State. They were a class apart, immediately recognizable, even from a distance, because of their size -they were all over seven feet tall. They were also aloof, stern and unforgiving. Everyone was frightened by the Chiefs, but thought that only natural. After all, the Chiefs were responsible for enforcing the Code, for keeping the entire population aware of its guilt and of the extent of The Atonement which could never be sufficient but which was the only road to an exemplary life and the possibility of Israel. The Chiefs were the temporal and religious leaders.
“Haven’t you noticed how jewish the Chiefs look?” Donald asked him. “There is no such thing as a jewish look,” Robert said, saying what he had been taught and what he believed.
“My father has some old books,” Donald said. “There are photographs of Jews in them, and they look different. They look just like the Chiefs. Our School Chief, for instance, looks just like a Jew who lived a long time ago, B.H. I think. His name was Sam Goldwyn. And haven’t you noticed how much the Chiefs resemble the statues?”
“But even if it were true, why would they do it? Why would they say that all the Jews were gone when they weren’t?”
Donald shrugged. “Control. If all the jews were gone, it’s easier to enforce the religion and everything else.” He laughed. “What had me wondering, though, was how they got to be so big. But I found it in one of my father’s books. It was called genetic engineering. It was invented a long time ago, and they must have the secret.”
“But why would they want to be so big?”
“To intimidate naive people like you,” Donald said, laughing again. “To keep a good thing going. They have all the non-Jews in the State and that’s a lot of people working for them as slaves. It’s an empire, and worth some effort.”
Robert hadn’t lost his faith, but he had begun to wonder. Then a few months later he was taken in for questioning.
Donald had been careful, but not careful enough. They had caught him and charged him with heresy, and somehow they knew he was a friend of Robert’s. Robert had never understood how they had done it, but they made him tell them everything Donald had said to him -he had heard himself repeating it all. He heard himself and had been unable to stop. They had kept him there for a few weeks and when they let him go, he didn’t believe anything Donald had said. He didn’t know why he didn’t, but he didn’t. He had been tired and sleepy when they let him go, and that was over twenty years ago, and never since had he lost that feeling of drowsiness and fatigue. He didn’t know what had happened to Donald, and he didn’t care.
Sometimes he remembered bits and pieces from the time they had him. They had put him under a white light, and said things to him. He thought they were Chiefs. He couldn’t see them except as shadows because of the light in his eyes, but the shadows were huge. They were enormous and he wanted to please them. He wanted to Atone.
A voice said, “You look Nordic. Do you know what that means?”
“It’s bad,” Robert said. “lt’s bad to be Nordic.” He wanted to Atone. He wanted to be small and Atone, to please the huge, shadowy Chiefs. He didn’t want to be bad in any way.
The voice said, “lt’s almost as bad to be Nordic as it is to be German.”
“I’m not German,” Robert said. He was constricted with terror. The horror of Germany after death filled his mind and he was sick with terror.
“Perhaps you’re not,” the voice said. “But you certainly look Nordic.”
And then Robert could stand it no longer and burst into tears. Sometimes, when he remembered that exchange and came to the moment when he cried, he could feel tears coming down his face. Once, when he came to that moment, he actually did cry, and the tears were real. He hadn’t known they were real until he put his hand to his face. Until then, he had thought he was only imagining the tears, as he always did when he came to that moment. He was surprised that there was little or no difference between imagined tears and real tears.
At noon Robert ate the apple and the small piece of cheese which he had brought with him in a brown paper bag. The other workers ate similar lunches. They remained at their desks and no talking was permitted. They all had to watch the television screen, which came on during the lunch break. The program was part of a long series on Adolf Eichmann, and showed him working with the representatives of the French, British and American governments on the details of concentration camp construction.
The afternoon passed as Robert continued to sort papers and drift in and out of his dream world. He remembered a picnic that he and Joan had gone on just before they were married, and the sun on her hair. She had been pretty. Not beautiful, of course, but pretty. They had given up picnics a long time ago, and he didn’t know why. Nor did he care.
He remembered that he had once had a photograph of his great-grandfather Mallet, who was also named Robert. That Robert had looked out of the photograph with eyes which were not unlike his own. Now the photograph was gone. Robert didn’t know what had happened to it. Nor did he care.
He left the office with the rest of the workers and went out into the gray street. The crowd was thick and mindless in its slow movement. He was pushed against a man wearing a yellow arm band. He tried to squirm away, but the pressure of the passive crowd was too great. He didn’t want to look into the man’s eyes, but he did, and they were guarded but with a tiny spark of life, a tiny spark of contempt.
When he was free of the man, he remembered another moment from his interrogation. He was under the light and a voice said, “Donald Harrow told you a story about Utah, about the pits, about the black pits. Admit it.”
“No,” Robert said. “He never said anything like that.”
The voice went on for hours, for what seemed like days, trying to make him admit that he had heard about Utah, about the pits, about the black pits. But he denied that truthfully, and evidently they finally believed him. Robert never mentioned the pits to anyone, not even Joan. Nor Utah. He knew, somehow, that he was not supposed to. But something about the eyes of the man, the German, with the yellow arm band had made him think of those pits. He didn’t know why, and perhaps there was no connection at all. It didn’t matter, though. The only thing that mattered was doing something bad, and he hadn’t done anything bad with the German.
At home, Joan was preparing the inadequate evening meal, and Peter and Nancy were already sitting at the table. The apartment was quite cold, colder than it had been in the morning. Robert knew that the children’s hands and faces were like ice. He didn’t want to touch them.
The evening television program was on, showing part of a series on brave verbal retaliations to anti- Semitism by the Marx brothers and other Jewish comedians in the United States immediately B.H. and P.H. It was very loud; the volume always seemed greater in the evening.
The family ate and then sat in silence until the program was over and the set went dark. The apartment was painfully cold, and the children hurried to bed.
Robert helped Joan do the dishes and tidy up the tiny kitchen, and then they, too, went to bed.
In the dark, Robert remembered again, as he had that afternoon, the lost photograph of his great-grandfather. He didn’t wonder why he remembered it he didn’t wonder why he remembered anything -and he didn’t really care that it was lost. Usually his memories were fleeting, and quickly superseded by others, but the image of the photograph was oddly stubborn and wouldn’t go away. The eyes which were not unlike his own looked at him for such a long time that it finally occurred to him that some sort of message might be intended. Alone in the cold dark, his emaciated wife asleep beside him, he waited for his ancestor to give him a sign. But no sign came, and the image gradually faded. Tired and barely awake now, Robert tried to bring his great-grandfather back, but couldn’t. He drifted into sleep without knowing -or caring -that the image had not returned.
By Cholly Bilderberger
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