Something Greater Than Hate
Hate can do much damage, but once its expiry date comes, people can see through the smoke and start realising who is at the bottom of the pit stoking the fire and sending up smokescreens to fool others.
We Just Waited
Having to endure watching how they covered Freundin with humiliations, Angela and I waited for our chance to go back to the Rhine and its connected lands. We had often spoken about it but agreed to be fair and allow destiny to take its course.
We knew that once we’d decided for Germany, both Alexandra and Mädel would join us, just as the Serbian Mother had made clear after our last return to Serbia at Easter, and indeed the German Mother has patiently waited for our return home.
The ever-willing Alexandra chose the right moment to evade police surveillance and in early July this year, 2022, departed for Germany with Anglia her friend. It all went according to Plan B: turn Mädel down in England, and Angela and brother Huns know we both have an open door waiting for us in Germany!
They did precisely this, and precisely for this reason the alternative plan sprang into action. Then, when the Westminster people had climbed up to the highest possible rung of the ladder and balanced themselves with arms outstretched, Freundin decided to depart, Alexandra at her side, heading towards an English port and on to German lands.
Here is today’s Party tune.
A Burnt Offering
Readers of Party pages know how the uk had attempted getting to Mädel’s work and transferring the grain from her basket to the City’s den. No longer dedicated to the Fair Lady and Sovereign England, her skills would have been applied to the great City Whore, Babylon!
In 2019, when the City was proclaiming the imminent rise to power of its last crackpot in 10 Downing Street, she warned me never to allow those people to force me into handing over to them anything I knew about her policies – not that she ever showed me much.
They confronted the Hun in the street trying to force him, but I stood my ground. Those people wanted to force Mädel into slavery, and because she refused, they had picked on the Hun because I personally made sure they couldn’t bug her within the quarters of her own privacy.
They hated me and had already unleashed a hell-hound called HM Revenues, and in response I had sent their piece of paper up a chimney. As the smoke rose to the heavens in a burnt offering, I had told them to keep the five pound notes they later offered me.
Mädel, I had promised them, will not be your slave, and I will never surrender to you.
East or West?
In the last Party edition Spreading the Word in Germany, it is written: “The Hun has no work contract with Britain, full stop!”.
When Mädel’s attempt at creating a special alliance between Sovereign England and Mexico – one that would have included a broader trade alliance with the Americas – broke down in the second half of 2021, Angela, who by nature is a matchmaker and also arranges alliances, came back to England for a week to visit us, and she clearly stated that plan B comes into immediate effect: back to Germany!
Sister and brother Huns had both agreed that if ever Mädel’s plan A should most definitely fail, then it’s back east again, and that means to the land of the Rhine.
Freundin agreed, but only on the condition that she is English, has never been British and never will be, and will not give up Sovereign England. On that condition, she is happy to work for the German Holy Mother too, reciprocating all that Angela and I had done for the Fair Lady in England.
Bombastic Bluster
In place of Freundin’s peaceful designs for Sovereign England and future special trade relations with the Americas, the Westminster regime had set about proclaiming grandiose things which were destined to fail from the start.
Where this led to is of no concern now on Party space, it all ended in Autumn 2021 when Angela made sure we are working for the German Holy Mother and from then on this has never changed.
A Fistful of Smoke
In a recent video conversation I had with Angela who dialled in from Mexico, we spoke about Bletchley Park’s code-breaking activities, and she told me again of a phrase Freundin had once used.
Mädel, she cried, show fist and say they hold fistful flies, she then open hand and say: flies all gone!
Whatever code it was those people had been hoping to get from her and apply to their City agenda, it went up in smoke on the day she left. It was the tragic end of generations of code-breakers whose godfathers in Italy gave up believing in them. They had wanted to save the EU in return for a uk, and all they got was a fistful of smoke!
Na dann prost!
Here is our second Party tune of the day.
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