Christopher Jon Bjerknes
The Jews have covered America with a toxic rain which drips from their venomous tongues and bloody hands and flows like a serpent through the gutters and sewers winding its way underground to poison the well where we drink. They drape lead curtains between our souls and the Sun, cast a prison gate over our thoughts and sew shut our eyes to hope like a mortician readying the corpse for burial.
The Jews want us to forget that we are one nation, that we can work together for our mutual benefit and that government can be a positive force in our lives. Jews are revolutionaries. Their mission is to destroy, to burn the corn and wheat so that they can plant a Jewish cemetery in the charred fields which once gave us life. They want us to forget how good life can be when we help each other.
Death's cloak has an old and moldy smell. It has been dragging in the dust for two-thousand-five-hundred years stirring up the worms and rats and clouding the wind with churning flecks of ash. The Tribe has carried Death's coat on their bony shoulders from country to country around the globe and now wrap their leprous arms around this infant nation America and blow an infectious cough deep into our lungs.
The Jews are waging war on us and recruit us into two camps to fight ourselves. With lies, impostures and staged battles, they provoke Americans to destroy one another. They want us to fight each other, to mock decency and to embrace the sick whore of Babylon in a last sour kiss of Death.
They are killing our economy, but they have also been changing us from within, like a drunk screaming in the streets, they have been pouring evil spirits down our throats that for decades have been eating at our guts and changing us cell by cell into a dirty, cursing, bitter bag of hate that cannot walk straight or hold down a healthy meal. We fight each other like bums tumbling on the boardwalk and tug at one anothers torn cloths with dirty fists and scraped knuckles, while the Jews butter one anothers bread with honey and wrap golden necklesses around their childrens' fat necks.
I worry for the other children who begin their lives in an America without a sip of pure water unflavored by Jewish immorality, Jewish hatred, Jewish bloodlust or Jewish degeneracy. And this worry is one more toxic taste tainting life, which the Jews serve to us on splintered shingles from our fathers' fallen barn, as the Jews cut the throats of our cattle and serve up our blood in crystal cups, congratulating one another on their legendary "cleverness" and mocking the Goys' stupidity for ever trusting them.
Yes, America may be one more coffin tied to Death's heel with a rusty chain as the Jews wander around the Earth sniffing the weeds and picking humanity's pocket, one more box of bones rattling across the grass. But only if we forget, forget that we can unite and fight, unite and build, unite and raise new barns where the Jews have burned down our forefathers' homes and forests.
We must not let the Jews control our images and thoughts of tomorrow, or today, nor our memories of yesterday. We must leave the noise of the city and walk in the woods, hear our human nature singing like a child alone, dancing to her own happy song. We must let ourselves be left alone for a few moments to reflect on what we really are and how we can return to beauty, to love, and romance the future as human beings are meant to do.