Monday, February 3, 2014


© MMXIV V.1.3.3
by Morley Evans

The Canadian prime minister, Stephen Harper, was honoured in Israel last week. He left no doubt that he is a Zionist. The people in Israel, the Zionist state, are Zionists. All of the Conservative Members of Parliament in Canada are Zionists. The Opposition Parties in Canada are still talking about Senate reform and other things. None have said a word about the Prime Minister pledging Canada's undying support to Israel, the gangster State. Every member of the Canadian government is a Zionist. The CBC, CTV, and Global TV networks in Canada are silent on the issue of Harper's Zionism. We can assume they are Zionists. The newspapers in Canada are owned by Zionists. Conrad Black, the disgraceful former newspaper baron, and his wife are both Zionists. The Bank of Canada which is Canada's central bank, is run by Zionists. The military is happy to be at war. They get lots of new toys. They get to blow up stuff and kill people. They are Zionists.The Liberals were not quite what Washington and Israel were looking for. Harper is exactly the whore they want.

Canadians have no clue about the history of the Zionist State. They have only ever heard the Zionist version of history. Canadians have been getting a dollop of Zionist history every day for over sixty years. How would they have any other idea? It is illegal and dangerous to examine the Zionist version of history so I won't do it here. Anyone can discover what the history of Zionism is in any library and on the Web. They won't get a clue from the mainstream media. What the Zionist state does is not reported in the Zionist "main-stream" media which reports twaddle to the brain-dead whose brains they have deadened. Our brainwashing system is second to none. We lead the world. The "free world" is zombie land.

I had my first encounter with Zionism when I was 20. I was invited to a house party where I was beaten to a pulp by the host and a helper. When I arrived, the host had gone out to buy more beer. I waited alone upstairs to find out if anything was wrong. The others were downstairs drinking and having a party. Something was wrong. As soon as the host saw me when he came in the back door he demanded that I leave. I did.
In Bugsy Siegel-style (his idol), the host jumped me from behind as I was walking toward the garden gate. When I heard a shout and the screen door thrown open behind me, I didn’t think anyone would attack me when I had my back to him and I was walking away. I suffered a savage beating there and again when I went back inside, thinking my friends would be shocked by what had been done. I didn’t know I had been set up. The friend who had invited me wore a satisfied smile when he told me he wouldn't need me to give him a ride home. My other friends had gasped when they saw me but did nothing to stop it from happening again. My girlfriend's eyes were averted. "Get out of my house," the host screamed as he wound up and smashed me in the face! Swaying a little, I stood.

The second beating, in an area separated by a movable stub wall from the main room where everyone was seated, was focussed on punching my face. A helper held my arms, but he wasn't necessary.

During the beatings, I had been unable to defend myself in any way. I had only managed to swear and spit in my tormentor's eye. I spewed a torrent of obscenities that would shock a sailor when it became clear nothing would stop him and I could do nothing about it. I refrained from uttering any ethnic epithets which I sensed is what he wanted to hear. I was not going to give him the idea that he was justified. He was a scum sucking pig. I did kick his helper in the balls when he moved in front to take his turn pounding me — giving the Zionist hero a chance to have a little rest. "I'm not dead yet, you asshole," I jeered. When it was over, the two of them dragged me up the stairs and dumped me outside. After a while, I was able to pick myself up, walk to my car, and drive myself home. 
My father took me to the police station where they photographed my face because, "In a month or two the swelling will have gone down and the evidence will be gone." The cops who saw me were horrified and they had seen beatings before. My father was sickened. The cops said I should press charges — actually they should have pressed charges I would learn years later from a lawyer. My father took me to his friend from Kiwanis who was a lawyer. When he found out who my assailant had been, he started minimizing the attack. 
A few months later, when I appeared for a hearing in the police station, I was directed by a huge cop to a tiny 5x5 "room" across the hall from the courtroom where traffic violations and other assault cases were being judged. The walls and door of this briefing room were covered with sound proofing material on the inside. We sat on little benches facing each other. My knees were touching those of this towering giant who had big sergeant chevrons on his sleeves. He told me, "We know all about people like you." He advised me to "Drop the charges, if you know what's good for you." Inside the courtroom, my lawyer was nowhere to be seen. A kid in a shiny new suit came up and told me he was my lawyer. He advised me to take $25 from each of my assailants and forget about it. I said, “You can take their fifty dollars and shove it up your ass.” My assailant wore a smirk. His father looked as if he had been hurt: boo hoo, you sick mental case. My assailant's helper looked relieved that he would not have a criminal record. He seemed ready to make friends again. I walked out. I went to court alone. I left alone. I closed the door. But it haunts me.
My assailant was a Jew who had identified himself as a Zionist during the period I knew him. “I’m a new kind of Jew,” he had told me once. He had shown me the carbine his father “had used to kill Arabs during the war.” I didn’t know Arabs had been the enemy during the war. I wondered how his father got to bring home a rifle after he had been decommissioned, but I didn’t ask. His father had been a war hero, he told me reverently. I thought these things were unusual, but we were friends. His cousin was my friend. We had gone to school together. We had never had a discussion about politics. The Six Day War had just occurred in June 1967 and Zionists were feeling their oats. I didn’t know what Zionists were at the time.
Today, after almost half a century, I think I had been set up to take a beating by the girl with whom I had been going out. I had dumped her before she had a chance to dump me and that was coming. As one proverb says: "It is better to be the Dumper than the Dumpee." Another says, beware: "Hell hath no wrath like a woman scorned." She got her revenge. My Zionist friend was a loaded gun. She only had to tell him that I was an anti-Semite and point him at me. He would do the rest. Zionists shoot first and never ask questions or think.

My assailant's father was the Chief Surveyor of Saskatchewan. He was a Zionist too. His predecessor and mentor had been a Jew who was also a Zionist. Between the two of them, they had held the position of Chief Surveyor of Saskatchewan for decades. They were part of the establishment. I had no clue. My father had taken me to his friend, a lawyer who turned out to have been a friend of my assailant's father. My assailant's father had run around telling everyone that I was an "anti-Semite", a neo-Nazi. My assailant’s father, had played the race card. I didn't even know there was a race card.
To sum up, I had no clue. I grew up thinking Canada was a decent place. I was wrong:
I had been invited to a party in July 1967. I had been invited by another friend. I wondered if it would be all right because I had heard that my Zionist friend was mad a me for some reason. I didn’t know why. “Oh, everything will be all right,” this third friend had assured me. All my friends were at the party, including my former girlfriend. I would learn that night that I had no friends. That is the last time I ever saw any of them. This episode changed my life. It took years to recover. This is the first time I've ever managed to write it down coherently. I was ashamed of what happened and had avoided mentioning it to anyone. I know what it feels like to be raped. I know what it feels like to be abandoned and alone.
Zionists favour cowardly "preemptive" sneak attacks on defenseless people. The Six Day War that Zionists are so proud of was given to Israel by U.S. intelligence (LBJ was the President) which told them that the Egyptian army that had entered Sinai would be unprepared for war for two years. U.S. intelligence told them to strike while the opportunity existed. U.S. intelligence told them where to strike and when. U.S. intelligence told them to attack and destroy the unarmed intelligence ship USS Liberty. Why the ship and its crew had to be destroyed is a mystery. The invincible Zionist warriors armed with fighter bombers and torpedo boats failed to sink Liberty in any case, but LBJ and the coverup team even managed to thwart an investigation launched by Admiral Thomas Moorer who was Chief of Naval Operations and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Zionists specialize in lying and back-shooting. They are fond of terrorizing women and children. Zionists are racist paranoiacs — a certified mental illness — like my assailant, his father and the psychos who run the Zionist state that the prime minister of Canada, Stephen Harper, loves so much. Harper, himself, snuck into office on a lie that seems to have been engineered for him by the Zionists who control the U.S. Congress. Does anyone in Canada remember the "sponsorship scandal" that allowed Harper to weasel into power? Harper was elected to clean up the corruption in Ottawa — not to enlist Canadians in Israel's wars, which Harper started to do hours after he got into office when he joined Ariel Sharon's military siege of Gaza, a tiny enclave of Palestinian refugees which would become the world's largest starving open air concentration camp thanks to Israel and its allies, like Harper. You won't see any of Canada's "investigative journalists" touch that with a ten-foot pole. They are too busy investigating issues like puppy mills in Québec. 
Though I have never been fond of my face, I was disturbed when I did not recognize the person looking at me in the mirror. It took months before the swelling, cuts and bruises healed. I knew this business would end ignominiously when not one person called to see if I had survived the assault and my family withdrew and acted as if nothing had happened. My lawyer didn’t call. I received a letter telling me the date and location of my hearing which turned out to be traffic court! One summer afternoon before my hearing took place, a police car had come to the house. A policeman came to the door and asked me to come out to the police car. I sat in the front seat. He sat in the back seat. He and the policeman in the driver’s seat aggressively questioned me. The police had switched sides to be comfy with everyone else.
I haven't talked about this incident for almost half a century and no one wanted to know about it when it happeded. I’ve been afraid that people would think there must be something wrong with me. Some would, but I don’t care anymore. They can go to Hell. People who live here can ask themselves, "What kind of place is this?" It is not what they think it is.

Palestinians would understand what happened to me. They know what Zionists are. Something like this — and much worse — has been happening every day in Palestine for over a century since Zionists began colonizing their country. Open your eyes and look. The evidence is easy to find. Below is a map of part of Palestine where the Zionist state has taken almost everything. They plan to take it all and then move on to take more. These atheists believe God gave them a deed to the world. Don't be mislead, "Zionist" does not neccessarily mean "Jew". Harper is a "Christian" Zionist. He's not really a Christian but he is a real Zionist. Harper works for them, not for you. Like Palestine, Zionists have thoroughly colonized Canada. Re-read the first paragraph of this essay.

Can you see the face in the map of the West Bank below? Hints: Nablus is his left eye. Qalqiliya is his nose. The Dead Sea is his left shoulder. His throat is Jerusalem. He has been gagged but a little text balloon at his chin squeaks, "Help." No one is listening. Contrary to the title, these are Zionist Settlements in the West Bank. Every city and town in Israel is a Zionist settlement on land stolen at gun point by the Zionist gangsters. The "peace process" is a farce performed for the benefit of the brain dead zombies here in the "free world".


My girlfriend had engineered everything. She would have had no idea of the big picture — who did? — but she knew an opportunity when one presented itself. I had no clue about anything. 

She had primed the Zionist nutcase who was a simmering caldron of hate. She had used her stooge to invite me to the trap that she had set. He was the only one, other than my girlfriend, who might have known what was going to happen. But he didn't need to know much to make the plan work. 

No matter. 

I loved her then and I loved her for years afterward. I pined. She was a beautiful blonde who is my ideal still. I hope she has had the good life that I thought she deserved when I knew her. I was not good enough for her. I could not have given her what she wanted. That was not who I am. 

We don't always get what we deserve, but we never forget someone we love.


Lyndon Baines Johnson Who was this man?


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