My Personal Cherkassy Kessel

This is an appeal for the thing worth more than all the Jewmoney in the world:  People.  If you are „people“, please take a few minutes to know and consider the following: 

Not so very long ago, I observed privately with just a hint of melodramatically self-deprecating irony that I find myself in my very own personal „Cherkassy Kessel“.  As the Kessel closed day by day around me, I elected to more or less ignore the wind-up of my personal affairs; and in preference thereto, I embarked a knowingly foolhardy campaign to blitz the Internet on the rule of „As much as possible, as fast as possible, for as long as possible.“

Foremost understand as such, if I have overloaded your inbox (or your Web forum), it is for the precise reason that very soon I may be unable to contribute anything at all.  If I sent you a bunch of long e-mails, please keep them aside to read later and pace them out at your convenience.  I think you will appreciate them.

Next understand, my Kessel is not a legal problem.  I state that outright, because some people tend to make assumptions.  There is more than one way to skin a cat; and the only „illegal“ activity I do is to brazenly defy the censorship laws of about two dozen different ZOG chapters.  I intend to continue doing that until I drop dead.  I don’t care if my free speech is a felony in any particular jurisdiction.  But otherwise I have never done any illegal activity, and have no intent to do so.

Rather, my problem is that I am worse than alone.  Anybody who understands the Swastika banner at the top of this page knows well the general principle that people are all, and the mortal individual is a more or less limited proposition.  Me being more limited than most, in that regard.  Appropriate inferences may be drawn without details which would be even worse imprudent than those which I have already spilled out across the Internet.  I have worse than no people.  I was born with worse than no people.

There is no „Send Me Jewmoney“ button on this page.  I should probably (and may possibly) add one; but it would be of little immediate help to me, anyway.  Money is not a substitute for people; and if given the choice of either having one billion sheqalim dumped in my lap or connecting with even one reliable Kamerad, I would stand with my Kamerad and suggest to Mammon that he use his scrip for kindling in Hell.  This page is rather in first principle a „Send Me To People“ page, meaning to people outside the Kessel.

For the moment that I found myself within my little Kessel, I knew I must immediately and irrevocably make a decision to determine not only the course of my life, but also what my life will have meant when it is over.  I wound up in the Kessel with worse-than-no-people because I behaved in a selfish manner:  I sat quietly at the sidelines in a comfortable misery with the illusion of personal safety, instead of standing up and speaking out at a time when the things and the people whom I claim to care about need every voice and every possible assistance large and small.  Moreover as I observed to myself privately before beginning my Internet blitz, the Jew believes me to be materialistic; and I must not let myself be chained and throttled by selfish materialistic concerns.

I will never be rich in Jew-money, anyway.  I was a marked man long before becoming Helmut Stuka—and parenthetically, I should note my awareness that explicitly hoisting the Swastika banner would make for the dumbest get-rich-quick scheme in the history of Earth, economic warfare being what it is in to-day’s world.  The question rather is of being tied down by what personal possessions I have, which are unduly precious because I have no means to buy any more of then.  Of course for that reason, I will strongly prefer to keep whatever I can.  But in terms of priorities, beyond the things demanded by the logistics of survival and productivity, I have elected to be principally concerned with ensuring that my stuff doesn’t all go to Jews and niggers.  Too bad that unlike the men at Cherkassy, I have no reasonable means to dynamite or burn the extra deadweight.  Preferably anything I cannot keep should instead be donated to Winter Help.

Upon such an assessment of my priorities, I found myself these past few weeks sleeping at my desk with my head nestled on the palmrest of a laptop, bodily rotting alive and letting all around me go to Hell,(1) as the Kessel tightens day by day and I spend „24/7“ of my last remaining time making Internet posts about Adolf Hitler.(2)  By such means, I hope to connect with people—even if as a one-man auxiliary detachment, Waffen-SS Division Mongrel Vengeance.  And in the alternative, should I fail to reach people, then at least I will have unleashed for use by others a tiny fraction of mental materiél which may prove useful to the cause.  That latter outcome would be a crying shame, though; for I believe I have adequately demonstrated my innate ability to make a real and substantial contribution to your posterity.

(1. Word to the wise:  „We should have blown three quarters of it into the air and fought like the Asiatics, slept like the Asiatics, eaten like the Asiatics, advanced like the Asiatics, as roughly as they, as simply as they, without comfort and without useless burdens.“  (Léon Degrelle, Campaign in Russia (English edition p. 208)).  I have quoted those words to myself oft of late—with the added self-reminder that I am in fact an Asiatic, who anyways struggles with some rough personal habits a German might find appalling.)

(2. I am also aware that most people who post to the Internet 24/7 are in fact one or more persons being paid somehow.  A most unfortunate image for me to project, in my situation.)

The Kessel is now almost closed.  I could blink off the Internet at any time, after which point it will be difficult or impossible to communicate with me.  (Thereafter I will have other concerns, too; I have not adequately secured my own physical survival, and have no realistic means to do so.)  Two weeks ago, I already could not predict how many days I had left; I am working on stolen time, and stealing every moment I can.  I will keep pushing it.  I perhaps ought shift focus off commenting on other sites to preserving what I can here and, if feasible, submitting full-length articles to other sites.

If you are „people“, please consider that I am willing to live like a monk and work like a slave for the right cause (of which there is only one).  I am already neck-deep in the waters of the Rubicon; my future is an all-or-nothing proposition; and I would not have made even the first step had I not already been determined to make the final one.  I have no personal attachments, no familial responsibilities, and no personal ambition other than as stated here (which admittedly, is the loftiest possible ambition).

Otherwise, please feel free to trawl this website and search the Internet for the other bits and pieces I have been able to bat out these past few weeks.  I hope that in the limited time I have had, I have given at least some infinitesimal fraction of what I could have given to justify my existence.

Alles für den Führer.

Heil Hitler, und heil Armin!

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One thought on “My Personal Cherkassy Kessel

  1. […] Those who have been following my online activities may have inferred that since discovering Adolf Hitler, I have spent nearly all my productive time either writing and creating, or reading historical, philosophical, and National Socialist nonfiction.  I by custom but rarely read fiction at all; and sadly, I have not yet been able to get past the beginning of this Aryan classic novel, on account of my moving too fast in other directions.  However, I find myself now slowing down a bit.  I should not deprive myself by limiting good reads, for self-discipline is a dizzying excitement; and I feel it now appropriate that I should see Hunger through to the end. […]

    Liked by 1 person

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