The Scheming of Leuke (No. Lokis Renkespill) III

Magyar. Russian.

As you know there were many supporters in Paris the 17^th of October. All of them contributed in their own way to express their support and to tell the people from the press that I don’t stand alone. Thank you all very much for your support! I really appreciate it.

“Agent Thibault” from Scriptoblog with friends, organizing transport, get-a-ways, safe havens, interviews, photo sessions, business meetings and even meals. Thank you very much!

PS. I wonder if I am the only on who noticed the Swastikas in the gate to the French court building….

So what happened that day?

The 17^th started early. I got up around 04:15 and took a shower. After a quick look at my gmail, I headed off to meet some friends north of Limoges around 06:30. We drove to Île-de-France in around 4 hours, in my not-too-fast and not-too-discreet Lada, and “naturally” spent around 45 minutes trying to find the next waypoint; a parking garage in the outskirts of Paris.

I never miss an opportunity to publish pictures of my dear car. Lada Niva owners are often like that (you just have to bear with us):

PS. We also honk the horn, wave or at least flash the lights when we pass other Lada Nivas on the road (and we all think our own Lada is the best and coolest…).

We finally arrived and met up with “Agent Thibault” and his brother, and shortly after another friend of mine. After a meal we continued in taxi towards the court, where Thibault had organized a little demonstration (seen on the photo above). The military police quickly arrived to stop it, but my friend hurried up to them and talked them out of that, so they instead just let us have our little protest. The military policemen then told us he could get my friend and me in the VIP entrance, so the two of us avoided the 2 hour cue outside. He continued to escort us all the way to the right courtroom, where we were met by a fair number of reporters and journalists. The others had to get in the normal way and arrived 2,5 hours later inside… 

In the court room itself was fairly full and I saw many friendly faces and… a lot of Burzum t-shirts! (You know, as I see it individuals wearing Burzum t-shirts is always a good sign…)

Not being able to understand everything that was said I was left to think more about the room itself than I normally would have in a room like that, and I noticed a picture of the European goddess Lady Justitia in the roof as well as the fasces, the good old Pagan Roman symbol that was used by the Fascists. Our European roots are strong, for sure…

My lawyer asked for the case to be postponed, as explained here, and he was heard, so we left the courtroom. Outside the reporters waited, but so did a group of supporters, and shortly after the reporters started asking questions they stopped them by clapping and giving me a welcome I could only dream of. I thanked them there and then, but I wish to repeat myself and express my gratitude for their warm welcome! Thank you all very much! That was very heart-warming! (Yes, I actually do have a heart…)

We then left the building and headed for a taxi stop. Thibault lead the way and we left…

After some time the taxi driver told us that we were followed, by a guy on a blue motorcycle. We tried to get rid of him, driving around a few blocks for about 15 minutes, but getting rid of a guy on a motorcycle in Paris is not easy, so Thibault instead called his friends and he set a trap for the guy: about a dozen ‘muscle-men’ waited for us at a corner, so we stopped right next to them. The guy on the motorcycle made a wise choice and stopped following us right before we stopped.

So we continued without a tail and accompanied by the muscle-men to a place, where we could be undisturbed. We did an interview, took some photos, and basically had a good time with good people. I was very positively surprised by all of this and was really touched by their kindness and support.

Thibault then, when we were going to start our journey home, arranged for a taxi, and my friend from Île-de-France guided the taxi driver and showed him the way back to the parking garage. We drove and drove and drove, through the busy streets of Paris, and I really wondered how on Earth anybody can live like that; 10 million individuals cramped together in a relatively small area. That’s like all of Norway’s and Denmark’s populations in one city. What are they doing there? Why does anybody live like that? What if the electricity disappeared? What if they starved in there? What a jungle it would have turned into overnight…

My Lemovici-friends and I felt liberated just by getting into my rustic car: our transport to freedom, and we agreed not to stop even for a pee until we were at least 150 km away from Paris. What a horribly unnatural and dystopian place we left behind. Paris felt like a cancerous growth threatening to destroy all of France… if this growth reaches the countryside where I live Mr. Valls will not need to expel me to get rid of me: I will run as fast as I can towards the nearest grove!

I am impressed with people who can stand living in a place like Paris. The stress, the noise, the ‘ordered chaos’, the mutilated trees in the streets, the complete lack of real nature. I understand so well why people live in the countryside where I live. How good a life they have here in Limousin, or in Auvergne, or in the other “peasant” regions of France. How wise they are to stay away from the urban “Metropolitian” dystopia. This is a healthy, sane and natural life. Paris is just a slow death, a suicide of man.

For some reason Paris made me think about Ila prison, the old German WWII concentration camp I served about 2 years in during my incarceration. It also reminds me of some music I used to listen to in 1997…

The Front of Ila Prison:

The Sky as seen from a yard in Ila Prison. The “roof” is new. We only had a guard standing there, looking down on us and making sure we didn’t try to ‘scale the wall’ (to another yard, surrounded by another [7 meter tall} wall, surrounded by a barbed wire fence):

The Cells in Block A, where I spent most of my time. The cells have been renovated: they used to have blood- and coffee stains, and actually dried vomit running down the walls. Nice… The furniture and toilet is new too: there used to be a hole in the ground for that purpose, with a ‘famous’ flush so powerful you had to dodge it when applied or else you would get all wet. The guards can turn on and off the light in the cell from the outside (if they care to…). 

Alas! Our world is going down the drain, and instead of fixing the real problems our authorities spend their time and energy on persecuting people like me, who only want to save the good in our world, and ensure that it survives the destruction they bring about with their stupidity, hatred and ignorance.

Now I will put on my tall green rubber boots and work a bit in the garden… the boys are already outside playing with their wooden swords. The dog is eating a rabbit it caught earlier today (we set free a rabbit every now and then to teach our dog to hunt). Marie and our little girl is cleaning up in the living room. The Sun is shining. The grass is tall. I need to cut it again before Winter…

What on Earth was I doing in Paris? 

HailaR WôðanaR!