Subject: For The Attention Of Senor Barry `Smokey' Marijuanavic...
From: jbyrne@cix.compulink.co.uk ("Johnny Byrne")
Date: 1997/06/07
Message-Id: <EBErLA.G2x@cix.compulink.co.uk>
Newsgroups: soc.culture.croatia
Barry, the following was sent to me by mistake. It's from your dear Catholic Ustashe pastor and paymaster, the foul and despicable + Fra Ivan O'Thurible and is addressed to poor Boris, presently undergoing extensive rewiring in the RENOWNED Wickerbasket Clinic For Galloping Aryan Neuropathy.
It has some revealing comments about you and your adoring exotic Internet bimbo, Galina Al Shiptari, Mother Of All The Inclusive Tears, the famous absent without leave military hero, Sven Rapido, and last, but not least, the discredited Mike `Bounty Hunter' $ells, Wizard Of All The Lying War Crimes Statistics...
Please address all replies (and subscriptions) to:
The Mike $ells Bounty Hunter Fund
c/o The Committee To Enrich Mike $ells Haverford
Email: Mike$ells@Lotsa_Dosh.forme.suckers
Meanwhile, keep up the good work. I have it on good authority from Belgrade that you are in line for The Golden Dipstick Award (sponsored by, I told, Mobil Oil, Calgary) for your sterling work in winning millions to the Serbian cause.
- Johnny Byrne
To: Boris Petrovchich
c/o Committee To Bend The Truth On Bosnia The Sheri Fink Department Of Inhumanities Soros Sage & Onion University Airhead Canyon San Jose
Dear Boris,
I'm still trying to contact Barry Satan Marijuanavic and Sven Rustempasic Rapido for our long planned seminal lunch at the cabalistic Tavistock Institute For Balkan Affairs in London. We're booked into the `Black Hand' room, which should indeed stimulate Rapido's renowned powers to sniff out Freemasonic chicanery. However there is a problem. Sven Rapido has been incommunicado for some time now. Nor have I had much luck in contacting Barry Satan. Since you rightly insist that such inconveniences Must & Will be explained, please allow me to do so.
First Sven Rapido. It seems he deserted his Bosniak, aka Bosnian Muslim, military station and is now living incognito somewhere in Old Mujovia. I've had people out scouring the bazaars, but to no good purpose. But the reported appearance of a infidel philosopher perched on a tripartite rock hard by the Dead Sea looked so promising I decided to investigate.
I had been informed that Sven Rapido daily harangued a growing body of the faithful and that the bazaars were abuzz with news of the second coming of his hero - a mystical half man/half goat philosopher called `Lyndon el LaRouche'. On arrival I set out to locate him and was presently directed to a discreet but sumptuous villa sporting a curious red lamp above the door. But it was all for nothing. There was no sign of Rapido or of his much heralded Lyndon el LaRouche. Instead I was greeted by a certain Lynda LaLouche, a best selling lady author, a woman of passion and intellect, whose overwhelming presence left nothing to this 100% pure clerical imagination.
After a slight and somewhat embarrassing confusion over the purpose of my visit - she unaccountably thought I was you and had come for a strict discipline Must & Will research session - I discovered that the infidel conspiratorialist had removed himself to the Valley Of The Wick'r Haus'r - a remote location deep in the Judean hills, where, in biblical times, $ellsian academics convicted of low grades in War Crimes Statistics, moral turpitude and self-enrichment were turned out to die.
Ms LaLouche proved to be in the process of writing her next best seller, A Thousand & One Nights In A Dayton Hanger. She describes it as a torrid romance of love and betrayal set in Old Daytonia, full of larger than life characters whose actions become increasingly bizarre through lack of sleep. By the way, Boris, I suggest we use the recent donation from Messrs Ruder Finn to purchase a bulk order of Ms LaLouche's literary production. From her gripping description, it would appear to penetrate the deepest recesses of the body of a woman of passion and intellect. It describes her battle for survival among a motley crew of hallucinating, sleep deprived Balkanites and an over-sexed, badly zipped and orally deprived President in an isolated aircraft hanger with nowhere left to hide.
I know that our Croatian front publishing house in Texas is groaning with reams of unsold, indeed, unsellable Black Hand Over The Balkans by the dead French lunatic, Henri Pozzi. If you recall I did warn you that Barry Satan's description of this book as one of the "great works of modern history" was bizarre, to put it mildly. Nor was it an accident he smart-talked you into raiding our `Never Again' demo and banner funds to purchase an entire reprint run of Pozzi crazed panegyric to clerical fascism. With typical Ustashe cunning Barry, who describes himself as a for sure 100% pure Croatian Euro-Peon, encouraged you to expend scarce funds desperately needed to help exterminate Greater Servian Evil, clearly the only reasonable solution!
Sadly, it escaped Barry's brutish mentality that his actions could damage the public perception of the just, freedom loving credentials of our reborn Ustashe democracy. For instance, among Pozzi's soaring flights of paranoid fancy, his Black Hand Over The Balkans praises the actions of the Croatian `patriots' who assassinated the Yugoslav King and Berthou, the French Foreign Minister. These Croatian `Patriots' were in fact the Ustashe terrorists led by dear Ante Pavelic, a name which, given the sensitive nature of the times, cher comrade, we dare not openly associate with our cause. Luckily Pozzi died before the Croatian `Patriot' he extolled, Ante Pavelic, the evil begetter of the documented WW2 Holocaust in which a million innocent Serbs, Jews and Romanies were accidentally slaughtered by our Vatican inspired Ustashe legions.
Remember, it was Barry Satan Marijuanavic who portentously announced the `discovery' of Pozzi's `classic work of history' and endlessly spammed it throughout the virtual universe. Most unfortunate, since anything promoted as truth by this low paid, low grade, mobil oil soaked moron is instantly dismissed for what it is - deliberate lies and crudest Ustashe propaganda. And, to demonstrate once again that the moment he opens his mouth it fills with foot, Barry claimed that Pozzi's bizarre production had been`suppressed' because of its `explosive' content.
Judging by the total rubbishing it received from knowledgable French people when it first showed up on their net groups, the only explosions were those of uncontrollable mirth and derision.
Seriously, Boris, if we were not convinced that this simple-minded servitor of the 100% Pure Greater Croatian way was one of Ours, he's have to be one of Theirs - given his outstanding success at losing the hearts and minds of the Internet millions! During your next tete a tete with the Great Leader, please insist that Senor Barry `Smokey' Marijuanavic is fired and returned forthwith to his former occupation - a door to door retailer of 100% pure Croatian Cravats.
Meanwhile, we should instantly cease to promote Pozzi's published ravings. Today Nazi Evil is the sole preserve of the pernicious Orthodox Greater Serv... catch my drift, Boris? Any equivocation on this point merely confuses the issue for a public willing, indeed eager, to believe just about any accusation we care to level against the Nazi Serv `genocide' emanating from old Belgradia.
No, let's keep it simple - else the unidicted war criminals of the western media rediscover a conscience, if not the power of independent thought, and start asking unwelcome questions. So, out with the mercifully dead Pozzi, and in with the enchanting new and vibrantly alive productions of the peerless Lynda LaLouche. Simply having it known that we read her works will banish forever the lingering suspicion that we, or rather you, Boris, are not a man of flesh and blood. Like Barry Satan you would be dismissed as a soulless mannikin animated by 100% pure Croatian hate which had been cobbled together on the cheap in a some hand me down WW2 Nazi medical laboratory - ("Danke, Danke Deutschland"!)
My advise, then, is to ship the entire container load of unsold books by Pozzi as a thermal charity offering to the freezing poor and homeless of old Muscovy. The godless Russians, whom one day we'll forcibly return to the protective fold of the One True Church, the only reasonable solution!- will appreciate anything that protects them from the Russian winter, even an unsellable and unreadable book awash with Pozzi's lurid historical fantasies.
Apropos the content of Ms LaLouche's current book: it's strange to think how often Art imitates Life, yes, Comrade Boris? For instance, if the esteemed Ali Baba had spent less time accommodating his numerous wives, and more time in sleep, who knows how the map of the Islamic Republic Of New Bosnakia would look today. Certainly anything would have to be better than the hallucinatory sleep deprived deal Ali Baba And His Forty Relatives signed up to Dayton.
There's a lesson here too for our inestimable Great Leader, Franjo The Great! Completing the Great Work commenced by dear Ante Pavelic is no easy matter. The destruction and massive cleansing of the Servs from their 500 year old Krijina homeland was only possible thanks to the military, political and logistical support of American moral amnesiacs. But it took its toll on our fragile Great Leader, whose saluting arm now visibly trembles when he salutes even his miraculously, indeed, massively enriched relatives. Nor was the papally sanctioned miracle of Franjo The Great banishing terminal cancer by edict accomplished without cost.
You'll agree, then, that we're obliged to lend aid and comfort to Franjo in his Great Work. And nowhere is such comfort better expressed than in the immortal words addressed to his role model, dear Ante Pavelic, by Archbishop Sharitch of Bosnia, one of the highest dignitaries of our unique Croatian Catholic Church - and I append them here for your meditation...
Ode To Pavelic
Embracing thee was precious to the poet As embracing our beloved Homeland. For God himself was at thy side, Thou good and strong one, so that thou Mightest perform thy deeds for the Homeland...
And against Jews, who had all the money, Who wanted our souls, who built a Prison round our name, the miserable traitors...
Dr Ante Pavelic! the dear name! Croatia has therein a treasure from Heaven.
May the King of Heaven accompany thee, Our Golden Leader!
To address this problem, I suggest we urge The Fearless Leader to observe regular sleeping habits - crucial where terminally ill septuagenarians are concerned - in fact, it should be included in his oath of office. Otherwise Franjo's sleep denying obsession to try on non-stop the uncountable number of military uniforms stolen from Tito and donated by his admirers world-wide must inevitably threaten the stability of our miraculous near Serv free Greater Croatia.
You might also wish to know that Ms LaLouche is an ex-graduate of an establishment operated by the individual rightly unmasked by you as a world-wide source of Servian Propaganda - Mike `Bounty Hunter' Sells and his $ellsian College Of Pure Objectivity' at Haverford. Ms LaLouche was guarded in her praise of this disgraced, war crime zero crunching academic. Nor can we rule out your suspicion that bounty hunting `$ells' might be a cover name for a certain notorious Serbian propagandist, `Johnny Byrne', who masquerades as a proud but impartial `Irish' defender of the nazi Serb genocidalists.
Your previous inspired conviction that `Johnny Byrne' was really an American professor of linguistics called Maher was spot on - at least at the time you unequivocally made the claim. Nor can you be faulted if you later wrongly claimed that the so-called `Johnny Byrne' was now indisputably Trifkovic, a Serv diabolis and special advisor to the Satans in Pale. Or can you be harshly judged for the many other occasions you publicly, if mistakenly, identified him by any name that happened to pop into your head, including `Mike Chang', the Chinaman, `John Kennedy, the British Serb and Daniel Chukurov, a high-minded, courageous defender of the Servian people.
All is forgiven, for this time I'm convinced you've got it right. You have at last unravelled the Gordian knot of pernicious Servian Internet propaganda. When you think about it, your intuitively brilliant belief that `Byrne' and the bounty hunting `Mike $ells' are actually one and the same, reeks of schismatic Byzantine deviousness. Kudos, Boris!
What is true, is that Mike $ells made a deep impression on Ms LaLouche. While the cost of her tuition may have impoverished her for a decade, Ms LaLouche claimed that what she had learned between his professorial knees was beyond price. As she put it, it empowered her to invest her services to literature and mankind in general with a penetrating significance. Years later she could still repeat word perfect the `Mike $ells academic credo: In the words of his Haverford brochure, which she could still quote verbatim years later - and it's worth repeating here...
"... to involve students in both reflective and critical study of religious texts and traditions, with attention to historical, institutional and cultural contexts and to their philosophical, theological and hermeneutical implications. The department emphasizes the reading of texts, understood as any artifacts which require careful, systematic and disciplined ways of "reading," along with those tools and skills necessary to that task, especially a command of language in both its lexical and cultural senses..."
Quite. "The disciplined interpretation of textual artifacts.." can't have enough of it, can we, Boris? Otherwise it could mean people actually thinking for themselves. No. Pernicious heresy of that kind WILL & MUST be psychologically destroyed, the only reasonable solution. Others may call it outright mind control, but disciplined reading - of which your recommended book list is a superb example - rightly strives to banish the chimera of freedom of thought and expression. As your heroine, the Blessed Margaret Thatcher, Baroness Skinful Of Scotch, once said -"There is no such thing as freedom of thought or independent judgement - there is only my superior Will, which Must & Will be obeyed!"
While `Mike Sells' has been justly exposed by you for his crude Serbian Propaganda, and by others for spending too much time with his numbered $ells petro accounts in Zurich, I must admit that where the production of disciplined, unconfused receptive young minds is concerned, he's a top earner. Hardly surprising he's been honoured with the Ruder Finn Order Of Merit. I'd say his notoriously inventive paper `The Dynamic Zero & Alchemical War Crimes Statistics' - delivered without notes in hyperbolic torrential harangue to the sleep deprived captive negotiators at Dayton - clinched it for him. It was the only way to shut him up, it seems.
Sadly, I parted from Ms LaLouche when our passionate sapient colloquy was noisily - even uncouthly - interrupted by the arrival of a truck full of virile Daytonian Marines. Informed that their involvement was vital to her famed methods of in-depth literary research, and with Ms LaLouche obviously eager to get down to work, I took my leave of this enchantingly generous woman of passion and intellect. As I did, I could not but reflect on the impact a woman of this quality would have on our campaign to militarily defeat the Nazi Serv Genocidalists, which Must and Will be the only reasonable solution. It is, I fear, an area of public engagement we have sadly neglected.
All the world listens to a woman of Ms LaLouche's magnetic calibre, but who listens to the confused historical fantasies of our unpulchritudinous internet role models? True, the ethnic American airhead, Gail Schneider, aka Galina Al Shiptari, adores you, cher comrade - which gives lie to the Servian lie that only your mother could love you. The problem is she also adores Barry Satan, evidence, if it were needed, that the exotic Galina is seriously dysfunctional.
As we all know, Galina's much touted adherence to Servian Orthodoxy is the cloak under which she conceals her profoundly sublimated hatred for all things Servian - no doubt due to her repeated rejection by virile Servian males during her incessant late night suggestive telephone calls. While, in a sense, we can safely claim this transmimetic chimera as an ideological bed-fellow - (though rather you than me!) - Galina's obsessive interest in eastern Shiptars should toll a warning bell. Her self-elevation to St Galina, Iron Trousered Virgin Of The Mountain Shiptars, has caused consternation in the remote fastnesses of Old Shiptaria.
Galina's undisciplined trawling through Mike $ells' `genocide' trash-can in quest of interesting slogans to grab our attention, has been anything but hermeneutical, in $ellsians terms. Combined with her own advanced airhead theories on life, the universe, Shiptar origins - and men who report her to the authorities for unsolicited night time telephone calling - Galina inspired millions of Shiptars with the belief that their ancestors had built the pyramids. Their response was to embark on a frenzy of latter-day pyramid building, only in this instance they used worthless paper instead of sandstone blocks. It has resulted in the dark night of the Shiptar financial soul.
Still, we must not judge her too harshly. Anyone who openly adores a brutal peasant like Barry Satan is suitably qualified to serve our Higher Purpose - given our success thus far, clearly the more dysfunctional, hypocritical, malicious and just plain barmy our supporters are, the more it will please the Americans, our current `distant Lords'. Our attitude towards ethnic American exotics like Galina must be one of what she terms `Inclusivity'. To this end, cher Boris, my first act when elected to succeed Franjo The Great, will be to assign Galina to my newly instituted Ministry Of Tears. There, out of harms way, and without benefit of telephone, she can harmlessly wail, lament and sing hosannas to the wickedness of a world which refuses to take her seriously.
But I digress...
With Sven Rapido now in hiding from an infuriated mob whom he'd accused of being Bosniaks and not Muslims, I next endeavoured to locate our mutual friend and comrade, Barry `Smokey' Marijuanavic, a paragon of Croatian virtue and integrity calumnised by our Genocidal Serv enemies as Barry Satan. However, on arrival in Calgary, Barry was nowhere to be found. Nor could anyone sensibly respond to my efforts to discover his whereabouts. Indeed the city appeared to be in some turmoil. Police wagons chased about with sirens screaming. Teams of workmen were employed removing endless slogans from walls which identically appeared to read `STOP THE SERV SATAN!'. And `THE WORLD IS FULL OF HIDING SERVS!!!
My immediate thought was that Barry had abandoned all restraint and had decided to confront the Calgarian citizenry with the manifest evil of the Nazi Serv Genocidalists of old Belgradia. Turning on the car radio, the phone-in shows were full of the complaints of citizens and civil rights groups - all angrily complaining about the inundation of their city with slogans calling for one and all to `Stop The Serv Satan'!
But my dreadful apprehension that Barry might be incarcerated with un-Catholic killers, rapists and - even more frightful - predatory criminal homosexualists - for expressing his sublimely democratic concerns in this public fashion - were fortunately unfounded. The culprit was not Barry, but some elusive individual called Berislav Marijuanavic - clearly no relation.
All the same, my sympathies went out to the elusive Berislav, who, I later learned, was a rogue chemical engineer of Balkan extraction, apparently employed by Mobil Oil, under LBNTUCND, or Let's Be Nice To Unemployable Croatian Nazi Dickheads' a program sponsored by The Foggy Bottom Foundation. It seemed that this Berislav, despite warnings from the forces of Law&Order, had nevertheless decided to abuse the hospitality and generosity of the nation which had accepted him as an economic refugee - an outstanding act of courage inspired by a selfless desire to destroy the Satanic Serv Evil of old neo-Beelzebubia in the name of Truth, Justice and the 100% Pure Catholic Croatian Way.
Berislav! Where ever you hide! No matter how desperate your plight - rest assured that your name will occupy a panel of honour in Boris' stupendously large and ever burgeoning `Never Again' banner!
Given these momentous developments, Boris, I think it prudent that we postpone for now our planned `Black Hand' luncheon at the Cabalistic Tavistock Institute here in London. It's our one time opportunity to penetrate to the very heart of Freemasonic, Byzantine British Genocidal Evil. As such, correct timing is of the essence. Meanwhile, let us both content ourselves with the thought of the overwhelming pleasure to come when at last we confront leaders of the Freemasonic, homosexual British Genocidalists in person. What joy to witness their belated mortal guilt when you proclaim `NEVER AGAIN! and that Nazi Genocidal Serb Evil MUST and WILL be militarily destroyed!
Only then will they realise, as we always have, that the total and utter military destruction of Nazi Greater Servian Genocidal Evil is the only reasonable solution.
Yours &co
Slan
+ Fra Ivan O'Thurible __________________________
Publisher's note. Lynda LaLouche's seminal romance of love and betrayal A Thousand And One Nights In A Dayton Hangar, cannot be published as planned next fall for reasons of National Security. Publication has been held back until the 50th Anniversary of the arrival of US troops in Bosnia.
However, publication of Ms LaLouche's previously banned romance A Thousand And One Nights In Presidential Limos is now under active preparation. A torrid, moving romance of power, passion and politics set in the claustrophobic confines of old Limosia, it follows the trials, tears, tribulations and ultimate triumph of a woman of passion and intellect as she attempts to heal her hunky, troubled lover, Willie Whitewater, of his compulsive need to smoke noxious substances in cars, and his equally compulsive inability in inhale. Her increasingly desperate efforts to prevent both of them expiring from the lethal effects of smoke inhalation in the back of fume filled government Limos scales the heights of passion, pathos and political chicanery. A classic. Not to be missed.
END QUOTE