Perhaps the most difficult thing of all is to manage to put into simple words an extremely complex situation, and it is obvious that I can’t manage doing this at that very moment, reason why my mind does constantly shift from one thing to the other as if lacking of general ordering concepts.

Proof for the fact that poor intuition, in order to keep balances, has to take enormous weights on its shoulders.

Time helps and to look back has the advantage that work done in the meantime helps to find the proper concepts for general situations.

I would thus say that: becoming aware from Avanos to Cyprus of the fact that an attack on neurons produces as side effect that different functions of mind such as fantasy, future projects, imaginations and illusions get the same epithete of  ‘reality’ than empirical awareness, I simply decide that everything is nothing but a pure hypothesis. Suspended, whatever appears to the mind can’t mislead it to hold for real what is not. At the same time, I decide that even lies are related to reality in ’some way’ so that it should become possible to establish a link to reality through the working out of  a linking logic.

As empirical reality in its immediate awareness disappears progressively and even almost completely around 1996, the concept ‘real’ is attached to inner reality through its appearance and not through its contents. I can say that ‘I think, I feel, I construct, I deduce this and that’ is real without giving any kind of importance to the contents as not having the means to verify.

It looks as if the solution intuitively grasped in 1992 implied the possibility of a complete restoration of health inside of a more general principle ordering reality that was ‘to write a book’ in order not to get confused by the almost chaotic amount of worked out impressions that overflow the mind. Whatever is thought, worked out, built up, is possible material for that work, which in general keeps itself inside of patterns determining the nature of my work before.

As  a few rational functions do never get lost, as the grasping in essence, I have quickly built up a theory of soul that deals with psychic interactions inside of what I call compounds. To give an example of the type of reality this results into: if a ‘normal’ person does retain acertain number of outer characteristics in order to evaluate a person and react inside of a situation (way of dressing, car, sports an hobbies, place you encounter the person, etc) I will absorb intuitively the ‘effect’ of this presence on my mind and code this impression in brackets saying ‘a has produced this imagination, story, reaction’, etc. and depending on what this is about, it will condition a reaction. Very soon, this will form ‘blocks’: this story arising from a has common points with a story derived of b, etc. Common features build up a synthesized story that forms a category and in general it can be said that after a while, most general categories are studied in their interaction with each other.

The way back to health implied a moment of verification (2003) when the ’stories’ had to be put into  a certain context in order to establish the relationship to empirical reality and thus gain back not only empirical awareness, but also the rational link between both.

I would state not later than 1995, that these ‘compounds’ interact even in outer reality in such ways that it is possible to interact with it even without physical presence (compound Schizafon, or compound Telalim, etc.) Schizafon has left a story as well as Telalim, Egypt, the University. These form notions that are coded in ‘lines’ and these lines interact with reality somehow. I state about then that it must be possible to think a uniformed psychic fabric that is communicating people one to the other, somehow.

Inside of this ‘net’, I’m searching for those who were at the origin of both attacks and finish by developping an over all strategy against those who were, without being specifically aware of how this moves outer reality at the same time, as in my mind, both are clearly separated.

I continue at the same time my work on psychopathetic lines and on happenings concerning second world war. The first is based on a theory saying that psychopaths interact through coded lines with their victims inside of general logics that determine their appearance and the nature of their victims. The second is collecting information of the general unconscious trying to determine the logics of interaction. As underlying draft for all these investigations I use a hypothesis saying that: it must be possible to find the fundamental psychopathetic logic leading to second world war, as obviously psychopathetic, and that it can be said that a logic affecting a singular individual can be transferred to a national whole if it is true that this psychic fabric exists and is determined by a structure of understanding in common with many (Freud’s theory of the general unconscious). Inside of this pattern I tend to seek for formal structures at the origin of an attack and not for individuals: it’s the ‘nature’ of the attack that has a logic inherent and this logic affects a certain number of individuals that are ordered in a determined way.

I’m moving inside of a pattern that is attaching concepts generally used to order outer reality for inner activity as given more generally image in women’s activity: the appointment to have coffee at 4 becomes an important business meeting or an ‘assembly’, and influence a ’sign of power’ on those influenced, etc. this allowing a very quick and easy transfer of abtsract and logical concepts to theorize the structuring of soul as such in categories, forms, etc.

This is the pattern of the matter of the book to write: a ‘psychic’ claim based on tradition, or a fairy tale, or whatever is transfered to a political environment in concept without this ever leaving its actual realm. I’m the axe of transfer because I’m moving inside of this logic (servant of the Queen of Sabah).

Actually it is impossible to deal with reality as if it were all a pure hypothesis: extremely strong moral patterns determine reactions as there are no outer formal references left. Thus: to ‘intuition’ ordered inside of this ’story’ that allows the grasping of an essence that allows the building up of categories, the fundamental axe of reaction is the one that is determining the matter of the book to come: a duel as means to establish who is right and who is wrong.

Apparently, I would judge now, the fact that I don’t allow the fusion of impressions, saying: this has happened inside of a general Russian logic in interaction with similar embedded in A, resulting in this story, allows the building up of characters that are constantly interacting with an ‘I’ that is simply taking position on different matters arising. Appear thus the ‘dialogues’: ‘I’ in conversation with ‘Hannah’ on financial matters, ‘I’ in conversation with ‘Natasha’ on matters of international security, ‘I’ in conversation with ‘Athens’ on political maters, etc.

Like the main character of Stefan’s Zweig ‘Die Schachnovelle’, I use to play chess with myself. This allows the construction of hypothesis: Natasha is going to think this way and that way and I think this way and that way. If ‘x’ happens, what is going to do Natasha and what am I going to do myself? Time passing, more complicated ‘hypothesis’, involving more and more ‘characters’ are thought of and this involving every time more complicated matters.

This peculiar activity of mine seems to be affecting somehow reality by means I can’t establish. In my village family ‘Karalis’ represents Russia. Whenever Russia is involved in one of my hypothesis, I have a look at what these people are doing that day. I insert these observations into my scheme and can say that results are satisfactory. What is Russia going to do if there is war in Middle Orients? No Karalis appears. Russia is not going to intervene.

These intuitive conclusions have no rational consistency. But seem to fit general patterns and schemes and to actually really correspond to something. I’m used to work this way. I wouldn’t pretend it affects more general situations.

This is how things are in 2003 when I’m supposed to go to ‘verify’, at the same time that I have to visit Jerusalem a third time. And happens what should never have happened: it looks as if some ‘hypothesis’ were really taking place. How?

Take an example: You sit down beside ‘x’ and start thinking ‘how boring life is and really, what are we up to and there is no meaning anywhere’. You say: “These thoughts derive from the interaction with ‘x’ that has inspired them.” These thoughts have a mark, a character. And you say: “If ‘x’ thinks this way, it must be a person thinking generally this and that and reacting this way and that way and ordering reality this way.” This makes a ‘character’ you call Wilheim, to say, and fits a general situation in a determined way.

Wilheim is a general character that moves quite freely inside of my mind. Whenever the situation allows it to happen, Wilheim is asked for her opinion on this and that matter, and acts one way or the other.

You can get this character without having sit down beside anyone. It is a different character. X in Telalim is someone who is refered to an empirical reality. This empirical reality has made a character inside of a general frame. If the general frame has these characteristics, then there must be other ‘x’ more or less that way. If x in Telalim has an empirical source, Wilheim is a derived character that is born out of the derivation of a general frame out of the specific x in Telalim.

I don’t sit down beside Wilheim. Thus wilheim is not inside of a kibbutz with ostriches. It is character grouping perhaps around 20.000 people with similar characteristics that may be at the same time in a jewelry, a bakery or in an office. With variables: one is married, the other isn’t, one has children, the other hasn’t, one has higher studies, the other hasn’t. The synthesis of all these possibilities allows the figuring out of a configuration that represents the whole logic in one individual having a specific life.

Wilheim, the synthesis of all those people, has a cat and two children, a boy and a girl. Worried about the death of the austronaut of the Challenger, she starts asking herself if there is eternal life. And concludes that if a body dies, the ‘character’, the ‘identity’ of the one, does never die. Consequently, she says to herself, the one who died, must be somewhere, were it in the synthesis of different elements that are to be found in different people.

I’m observing what my character is developping as fundamental theory and start laughing. “Well,” I say, “Then synthesize all the elements and put them into a benjaminite type. But you have to eliminate the causes of death, otherwise the same will happen again.” It gives birth to the Challenger hypothesis, where the one who ‘died’ is found by soldiers at the borders of Israel as having escaped death. Actually, the ‘psychic type’, the identity of the one, who is kept by Wilheim and two soldiers. (Challenger hypothesis: Manual of a soldier) If the one, without socks (in the awareness of not having done anything – game with happenings in Paris-Jerusalem where the fact of buying socks implies ‘you have done everything’) manages to escape the guards and to arrive to Wilheim’s house, he has escaped the causes of death and can live. But: this ‘theory’ has no place in actual society and the man must leave. You can’t hide him away more: he’s hunted by contemporary blocks of thought. And Wilheim’s son says: “It’s not worth the while living if we can’t give shelter to the man without socks.”

This is a story, a codification of interactions that has actually nothing to do with empirical reality. Perhaps it affects ways of thinking but it is obvious that no austronaut has landed accidentally at the borders of Israel.

Problem 1: Wilheim exists and really has a cat and at least a son. Can I presume that my story is ‘true’? No. It has coded probably a way of being that allows the presumption this person may be acting in a determined way in a given situation.

Problem 2: What happens with other ‘hypothesis’ linked to the transfer of information of national importance from Israel to Russia? From my point of view it is a ’story’, too, an intellectual exercise that tries solving a problem inside of given coordinates. It was really funny, the story.

But there is a ’tilt’. Wilheim is a derived synthesesized character whose origin is someone I really know in Telalim. The ‘transfer’ hypothesis arises from a ‘folder’ that is categorized as ‘electronic signal in code’. I don’t know where these informations come from but I have called them this way as I can’t understand where they come from. The most absurd things can be found in this folder reason why I usually get information out of there in order to make ‘jokes’. There are: mars men, speaking monkeys, coming back to life people old 300.000 years, etc. I would say a ‘n’importe quoi’ in general and in particular that is though very useful in order to make a mars woman enter a police station in a given situation. I really think it is very funny but don’t use to give a lot of importance to the whole.

What happens though with the information of transfer which, as far as I can evaluate, affects weak military border points?

Sask is a general military type derived of coordinates I have developped to determine the identity of one of those youth companions that have gone lost in the depth of the unconscious. There is ‘Sask’, a real one, probably, and the a multiplicity of Sask’s, that have positions in psychiatry, in Intelligence, in weapon construction, in army strategy. Usually a quite unhappy work maniac it tends to want to control the world through formal electronical coordinates. In psychiatry this gives a type who has made a program defining people according to characteristics and compatible characters through the finding of a certain number of similar features. In Israel, poor people are married through a newly developped program. That has by the way forgotten to include the developpers of the program into it.

This is a ‘extra polación’ = the character is left free to organize a society inside of its own way of understanding and this results in a few absurd situations that make me though laugh very much (solution of the homosexual problem in the army in ‘Manual of a soldier’).

Usually, I tend to answer to these possibilities by pushing a situation against this logical structure in such ways that it restores balances (The soldier in prison of ‘Manual of a soldier’) and this in lower lines (sexual interaction) because I have stated that a surprising happening of this nature corresponding accidentally to given structures of understanding affects immediately these and breaks the mechanism of a logic.

Inside of  a general structure where a Sask type is ‘common’, you just put a soldier into prison after having had a general lieutnant make experimentations to test homosexuality and … a document transfer becomes possible in theory if and only if, Sask type A is married to B.

How many chances are there a Sask type A is married to B? That must be a type homosexual repressed in lines m of mm? 1 out of 2 thousand, let us say. But it is possible.

Wilheim is there. It is possible to build up a situation in which the solution of my hypothesis is inserted, just in case. And it happens.

For the first time in over 10 years, a situation, an outer reality has a scheme that may allow attaching to it the character of ‘real’ without doubt and inside of a … hypothesis. It is true.

This point of attachment to reality forms the first synthesis of reality in interaction with the outer world in over 10 years and will allow to establish now the relationship between the whole rest of hypothesis, constructions and imaginations and the world.

And this, this is more than dangerous. Independenty of what I’m doing really, I’m to an environment nothing but a little shepherd who is robbing out people of cheese secrets. My known social reality has nothing to do with international transfers of information on whatever that affects nationl and international security. Even if I were who I’m, thing known by one alone, it has little to do with bombs.

Perhaps I’m furious because of exactly that: how is it ever possible that these matters finish by affecting little shepherds or wheat dealers? I grasp intuitively the coordinates of the situation and blame ‘Sask’ for the happening on personal basis. I wouldn’t shoot her but I will induce a dry one night stand - it’s the same patterns I use to work in and seem to restablish balances. Actually: I’m getting rid of an anger and move logics around that allow I actually get rid of it.

Second fact. It really seems to be affecting reality. The day I see Sask arriving with a companion I just get lost inside of my seat. A Sask type is not Sask and this is Sask. Poor Sask.

Second point of attachment. The restoration of balances on inner parameters has had as effect that Sask arrives with a nice handsome boy. Homosexual, perhaps. The ‘Minja’ hypothesis is developped in order to create a situation where Sask is menaced by possible blackmail in order to bar all possibility all this may not happen again. I don’t believe is actually happened, or at least not exactly this way.

I have the feeling something changes. And this implies that a hypothesis enters a variable. Why? The structure of the happening in En Kareim as far as I can reconstruct it implies a change in Sask type A that seems to start leaning on a virtual Sask type I had developped in Greece. Two types have fused probably accidentally.

To give an image: A couple logic in image is nothing but a structure of action on inner parameters. A man manages the outer world and a woman her home (type a). Implies: the psychic reality is ordered in one area and the understanding reality is ordering another in the best of cases, as resulting of the inner order, with variables. Thus: I feel this is wrong (psychic reality) and decide to leave (determination in understanding). In general strategies, this implies there is an inner parameter of judgement (notion) that is used as reference in order to structure outer reality. (For example: reliability as means to hire someone if and only if  formal criteria are fulfilled). In justice this implies that there are objective proves and criteria of reliability for a witness.

This is the general reality pattern I’m moving inside. With this small inconvenience that I can’t see what is of formal, objective or structuring reality. I guess it must be there, but I can’t see it.

Consequently I derive the irrational from patterns as deviating from the original pattern. And this as I hold mine for deeply rational. Consequently I presume that this situation is only possible inside of an artificial couple that forms itself for reasons of image where what I would call strict order is ‘accompanied’ by an irrational element moving in autonomous and independent way. In justice this implies that ‘you presume I’m guilty without proves and not having means to stop me, put in functioning a plan b, where I’m trapped accidentally and shot because I’m resisting myself to authority’.

Exactly what happens, accidentally: the plan b as deriving from a determined configuration is put into functioning because a hypothesis has just entered reality. Instead of being parts of a deliberate mechanism, it is bad consciousness that pushes R to a series of measures that should lead to the same result than if it were a mechanism.

The way plan ‘b’ fits into other hypothesis, establishes the link between whatever and reality.

But it becomes obvious: R has charged himself effectively of the ‘obscure’ aspect of Sask and this has produced a repartition of tasks where the ‘male’ is acting out of inner impulses, while the ‘female’ keeps strictest order in appearance.

This change produces the death of the German agent which would probably have never happened otherwise.

I conclude that R is very useful for the time being.

But this all implies that Sask is going to find who is at the origin of the blackmail almost immediately. A confusion in lines leads Sask to Federman, while I continue looking out of the window as if nothing had happened and this is probably the interaction that is recorded by Minja.

There is no need of black mailing anymore: the fusion of Sask types due to the constant coming and going of information has solved the problem all alone by itself or almost.

The bomb that is there and apparently the object of all covet is the result of a former logic that has changed now accidentally due to  a certain number of interactions.

I think: this bomb is dangerous and even to make it disappear you need Sask who is the only one who may disactivate it. Is it possible to convince Sask of this if you change a bomb for another that may be less dangerous but as convincing, finally? It’s obvious that Sask is not going to leave the bomb like that.

I have been working at a male Sask character, who is a little bit dull but very funny finally, as compatible character with my own in a more general frame of hypothesis. In  a fusion of Sasks, it seems as if inside of the configuration ff in low lines, mf in middle lines and mm in upper lines, Sask would be willing to change a bomb for another.

I have changed myself. I’m not inside of a general hypothetical frame anymore. I have a ’something’ that allows the synthesis of reality, although this implies an enormous work due to the extremely high amount of hypothesis I had been amusing myself with.

Hypothetically, I was nothing. Keeping  a referential female type in the way to organize reality, I shift the ‘I’ from a male type to a female in variables of ff, mf or mm with extreme easiness. Well, I say, patterns of reason are kept in a notion of emotional balance and if it is possible to induce those through an image as this peculiar person does seem to understand this way, I must be a female in wings mm, if a bomb is ‘child’ or product in mf in order to impress a lover in ff.

This is a temporary fixation of identity inside of an almost irreal situation where due to the entering of a hypothesis into reality, a symbiotic fusion has been split in two and a fusion of two types of which one virtual has happened inside of an almost unbelievable cascade of happenings of different nature.

It’s rather not determining, I would say, but seems to generate a solution.

Quite enchanted with my new role for a while, I plunge into the possible characteristics of an f in mm and will structure my reality inside of this for a few years to come. This is: a woman (physically) whose psychic disposition (f) is the one of a homosexual man in wings female.

This ‘x’ I would rather not immediately associate to myself, seems to show a rational balance in interaction with a type whose structures of understanding are determined by accident (gun powder configuration) in lines mm. As I determine the psychic disposition, Sask determines the structure of understanding and is thus a ‘male’ in mm, who needs a proper social environment. Sask is a repressed m in mm who submits to heavy moral patterns and is thus intuitively horrified, as much as Vodianova, by the way, by the marriage of male among them. In order to have an adequate social environment ‘he’ needs a woman (Leya) while keeping affective, chaste links to a female mm, who warrants for the emotional stability. Is this so, then the bomb will change its nature a little after.

Considered as somewhat absurd insertion of formal solutions into reality it seems to be the only temporary solution. Categorized as ‘exception in utter need’ it is framed inside of a realm where this is still possible, the ‘Varonen von Speth und zu Schülzburg’ Empire where exceptions are possible inside of a more general agreement.

Logically Sask is transfered to Germany into a virtual internet world where this Empire has a local existence.

The very careful study of average types in the environment as the Gazit type and the so called fiscal type allows thinking an agreement has been obtained.

Very well, you can say that a problem may have found a solution. It has introduced a six wings logic into the formal patterns of someone whose general patterns have been fixed in outer image and accidentally in lines mm. What is Sask? I don’t know and actually I don’t care. If I judge by what I see as much nothing as myself but needing of a fixed outer image as regulator, thing I don’t need.

I, my poor I, starting to get back synthesis on outer reality starts a reconstruction of what there is and was on basis f of mm, inside of a hypthesis where I’m the third part of a puzzle, including bombs as possible material realization of a life project.

The very quick reconstruction of the past with as many data as possible inside of this new identity, results in the shocking awareness of the fact that I have in my hands information enough so as to put an end to the Bundesrepublik and the Republique Francaise, which is completely out of proportion in consideration of my actual social situation. I know that the very fact of knowing something is enough in order to produce an effect: was it not so with the transfer hypothesis? It is moving me to do things that are interacting with reality in such ways that it is affecting general situations. Even if I shut up, what I mean, say, imply, the way I act are inducing such thing in one way or another. Even repressed knowledge interacts with reality, I know that, too and it is obvious that I can not know what I know.

If Sask does makes her new bomb, the finality has to be to make a war. How do you make a war? If there is  a transgression of international law. A transgression of international law. And my war with the Queen of Sabah? Is not resulting of that. But it was just a book and in the best of cases should lead to the establishment of an office getting a tribute of 2 shekel per person a year if anyone liked the idea.

The patterns I’m using are patterns of duel that are transfered to a political image in order to make them appear. Actually a philosophical exercise with possible symbolic consequences, it contains a mean of verification.

Hm.

I have a look at the whole situation and conclude: my ‘Empire’ is the only possible legitime parallel power pole to Germany. If I give two principles to my Empire that are: that international law determines outer interaction and ancestral proves love interactions, then I can translate this into a financial organization that affects political behaviour and thus may avoid a complete collapse, a dictatorship or  a war.

Called the Neu Schwanstein hypothesis it is just the working out of a possibility that seeming very probable at that moment inside of my own insight, may perhaps never occur. Thus, I ask for Neu Schwanstein in exchange for the temporary occupation of a hole in government (without taxes) and close the whole territory, including a few mountains, into walls. Neu Schwanstein develops a financial system deriving of those two principles that inserts itself progressively into the rest of society through a privilex (particular law). Reinforcing the army in a particular law that considers high treason as meriting death, it introduces death penalty again into social life only and only in what is of concern of the army, that has its own ways to determine whether there is or not. Thus, the financial system in interaction with a new financial pole, pushes psychopathetic elements towards the realm of the army and those concretely having characteristics as said of ‘rats’ that are those nazi logics having lead to the third Reich and the abuses of the German agent or group in interaction with the government.

It looked very beautiful and almost like a solution.

As I feel really tired only with the thought of it, I think of pushing the new Sask into the representative role of the Emperor only and only if she manages to make a war respecting absolutely all terms of international law as this, in influence with the German army allows the establishment of clear criteria of what is of war and of high treason.

I was eating peanuts bought with the 2 shekels a person a year in an obscure office in Jerusalem in the meantime.

Very happy with the possibility of a solution that may be of need, I think, in terms of probability 1 to a million, but that should be there just in case, I have to solve the other problem that seems to interest the fiscal much more than the new world configuration: I need to reinforce the hypothesis of the love proof through an example in order to be ready if Sask really makes her war. Actually Sask was wanting to get a divorce through a bomb and the thing is how to get a divorce that may be justified otherwise than through a bomb.

Thus: for all (wings mm, mf or ff) if A determined in these codes and whose name must be somehow present in what I have in my hands now and who I don’t know personally, is found in lines of electronical interaction, then it is true that A does not belong to the present B, and only virtually to another. (I in my or another’s name claim). A reversion: following the patterns of the Song of Songs, love is defined indirectly through the contrary of what appears. If this is not true, than that is.

Of course Spaniards jump into conclusions and legalize homosexual marriage a little after. What you’re marrying now, Frau Fiskalien, are two homosexual men in the impossibility of being as they’re women, so you better don’t take the conclusion as such but just the path of demonstration. It doesn’t marry me to Sask by ancestral means, it proves only that what there was is none. You can say that there is reason in what in reversion results of this proof: if someone is linked to another in positive ways through similar means you can say it is on love whatever it affects.

Sask is very serious and I’m, too. While, in spite of the most decisive opposition of the fiscal and many others I’m trying to get the proof for what I maintain, Sask is working at her bomb and preparing  a war.

The proof is found December 2007. The war starts in January 2009.

There is a case in reality where it is proved that international law reveals if it is not respected, irrationality in behaviour and justifies intervention. It is proved that you can find someone by electronical means in such ways that it found and justify a divorce if conditions are put wisely.

Consequently, I go on developing the hypothesis of the Emperor.

Precisely: something has happened that will have further consequences and I will jump from here to the war and to the proof (2007/2009) while waiting for the response of the State Department to my proposition, because there are missing parts in the puzzle.

You can say that the pushing back of the causes of both agressions in formal, that is to say, in general terms, have produced an accident that is at the origin of the death of X. Inside of this logic (apparently an ff logic in interaction of appearance with mf) it is possible that another accident occurs that may put an end to what was at the formal origin of the second agression.

This inside of a logic that was before I changed the patterns of understanding. It agresses a something that corresponds to the logical compound I call ‘rats’ in variables.

But, my logic has changed. I’m moving now in a separated mm logic. Mm logics build up images. While acting inside of the older logic that allows that I get definitely healed, I stay in an mm logic that will interact with this in ways I can’t evaluate.

I can say now that inside of this general configuration, I get proves for the fact that France is at the origin in principle of the Organ Traffic Mafia as I will state, while being taken to a hospital for psychological evaluation and made around 40 clinical tests that have nothing to do with the matter in question (HUA), thing I hold for sufficient proof for the fact that an intentional killing was planed that could only favour a use of organs if considered that tests are proving how horribly healthy I’m.

Inside of the same pattern, Germany is linked in Guayaquil to the diamond/circon traffic, on which I will fall as accidentally.

Thing proving to my understanding, that: the essential logic leading to the OTM in interaction with an essential logic not wanting to make the difference between circon and diamonds build up a logic that is at the origin of planed massacres of innocent populations.

I may say then, that the French attempt to appropriate itself the German logic allowing through formalism to the structuring of states and the building up of machines, produces a very ill logic that leads to the killing of gipsies around 1936. That French attribute this feature to the German and induce the killing of whoever is killed during second world war as result of the presumption it is the direct consequence of their way of thinking and not of the interaction of both.

This deviation of fault generates a new logic again that produces the reality of the OTM inside of the French Intelligence Headquarters.

I can judge for myself, that the incapability to make the difference in value between a circon and a diamond is the same that does not allow making the difference between a ‘bat’ and a ‘rat’ (German under French influence) and may lead to the total distruction of the population through the fusion of both types (x in Skopje) if measures are not taken quickly.

I will esteem that the Neu Schwanstein solution is  a proper solution for Germany and actually possible but actually prefer to eat peanuts in Jerusalem. Or finish writing my book if those not willing to let me eat peanuts.

At the actual state of things I would think it properly proved that there is no essential psychopathetic behaviour in Germany if not under influence and that a proper financial construction may allow the keeping of balances by itself. Thing not implying I don’t esteem the situation in France as grave if not as very grave.

As Sask has so diligently made a reasonable bomb in exchange for an intelligent one and such a proper war, I would say that the Hypothesis of Neu Schwanstein stays in her hands while I go on eating peanuts.

Making thus a horrible effort, and I must admit I’m tired as much as I was tired then, I would appreciate the situation the following way, taking into consideration what precedes:

That most probably high responsible of the nazi government were hidden away by the Church in the environments of Skopje. Skopje, capital of FIROM, belonged then to Yougoslavia and was inhabited, as it is still, by Turk, Bulgarian and Albanian populations as much as a few Slaves, mostly in the north. Among Albanian there are a high number of Catholics, mostly in the north, and as borders were not very much under control, the coming and going between Albania and the Skopjean region was more than easy.

Under cover names, some entered the Church and some just got lost among the population, but managed relatively quickly to form a ‘group’ acting in the region and extending itself towards Bulgaria (Catholic anchors in Sofia and Plovdiv), Greece and Turkey, or as far as India.

Contacts to Lape Hospital, Istanbul, through the Oecumenical link to the Orthodox Patriarcate, Father Corinthio and Soeur Maria Teresa Aisa, and documents sent by her

It is more than possible that this group was at the origin of Alexandros Onassis death, as this would assure to them some kind of secure income through the control of the board members of the Foundation, a quite diffuse financial organization without excessive control.

Once the financial aspect assured, it was thought to gain territory back in Germany, and this through people having covered away nazi activity and hold under blackmail or who just thought good times had come back. It is more than obvious that this ‘parallel’ government, extending itself to France through family members of old colaborators, enters around 1980 the political scene.

The nature of the agression I was personally the object of implies not only extraordinary means, as it is not possible if you don’t think control extending itself already up to Hungary, links to Serbia and most developped technical means allowing the use of chemistry laboratories, but also a logic which in evidence can be associated to the one of Gestapo: like the fact of deviating a path in order to accuse through government or other of spy work and then the ability to get as near to us so as to make a direct poisoning possible.

This made in order to cover a gold smuggle, we are informed of, and members of the Church in Germany are in knowledge of, too, which already links Turkey to Germany through Bulgaria and Rumania. The extent and nature of the activity allows the construction of the hypothesis as given above.

Documents linking Catholic activity to the German State through the integration of rejected asylum requesters into Catholic Camps, Skopje, 1992, given to me by the Consul of the German Embassy in 1996

Is this so, it appears clearly that people in Serbia, like Arkan, were surely already acting under the influence of this group. The similarity in structure makes it possible to think that even Turkish ‘grizi likoi’ (Gray wolves) under the orders of Ciller, are to a certain extent financed by this shadowy group.

Arkan will be shot in front of a hotel soon before the beginning of the Kosovo war.

To which extent the Ministery of Foreign Affairs is in knowledge of this and of all operations is difficult if not impossible to say: there will be proof later of the direct involvement of this in deliberate violation of law in foreign countries, interference in foreign affairs and attempt to control the country by political means through test made in the German School of Guayaquil, depending directly of the German Ministery of Foreign Affairs, still under the control of Fischer after change of government.

It becomes obvious that Athens is strictly uncapable to move and acts under the pressure of this group that may be giving itself out for official German politics. It is obvious that there are people who stay in agreement with this group, as possibly Giorgos Papandreu, as provoking the fall of former Minister of Foreign Affairs Pangalos, if not the death of Vice minister Cranidiotis when the Presidential Falcon fell upon Rumania.

That the Greek government, under pressure or not, is somehow linked to terroristic movements becomes obvious when put in front of the dilemma to give shelter to Ocalan, leader of PKK, thrown out by Syria menaced to loose the Euphrates water by Turkey, who will be given cover by the Greek Embassy in Nigeria (?) and later caught by the Turkish police. Ocalan has been received by an autonomous group of private people in Greece and has asked to talk to Pangalos, then Minister of Foreign Affairs, thing he refuses, as in knowledge that this is said ‘casus belli’ by Turkey. In order to avoid the worse, he manages to get Ocalan out of the country under the temporary cover of the Embassy. Not only this group of people acting under its own initiative can certainly be linked to Papandreu, he, in Germany at that moment, profits of the situation in order to accuse Pangalos of what has happened and to push him out of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Document signed by Xristos Kakarantzas recognizing work as “Public relation and International manager” for his company from 1994 to 2003

Taxes declaration of Gregory Leurent for France with residence in Greece in 1995

It can be said that Holland is covering terroristic activity as it will receive members of PKK, mostly women, who are not caught by the Turkish police.

It must be said that thanks to popular efforts, terroristic activity is being blocked in action and that consequently, 17 Nov, PKK and UCK disappear, the second due to a more ordered police action and the third as consequence of the Kosovo war.

I can identify the then apparent leader of this fascistic groupment, acting in 1996 under the cover of the German Embassy, thanks to a ‘mistake’ of the Skopjean Police who, instead of leading me to the Embassy, makes me enter directly the offices of this woman, of about 35, then, blond, somewhat taller than myself, with a medal of the Filles de la Charite around her neck. Her offices are an annexe to the Embassy and she seems to be acting along with this and the Catholic Church as well as Humanitarian Organizations.  I’m put in knowledge through documents  I keep of the fact that people who have been refused asylum are sent to Skopje into camps for so called ‘Roma’ (romji, in Greek = gipsies), these including Turks and Kurds as I witnessed myself, without any factual link to Skopje, originally.

The Church involved directly is the Erzbischoftstum Bochum.

On the other hand, the link between France and the Catholic Church becomes obvious through the direct link of the Intelligence to Lape Hospital in Istanbul. Both factors, the German and the French, are leading quickly to a conflagration in Balcans without talking of the use of these anchor points in order to distabilize Middle Orients.

It seems clear that links to Nazism are alife in Syria and this makes an easy contact point to Skopje. On the other hand, the Catholic Church has settlements in Damas that are used in order to facilitate contacts between the different groups. The suspicion arises Catholic elements of  the local population are used to stir up violence against Israel and the USA by using methodologies in ‘generating’ fanatics as well as chemistry leading to the isolation from families and a psychotic state, helping to the development of kami kaze.

Paper found among other of those brought back after travel to Greece in September 2003, appearing as testament of Hannah Rothschild on my name, with obvious fake signature of Xristos Kakarantzas

Links of French Intelligence to the development of this chemistry, could be sufficiently proved by the fact that Franck Leurent, brother of Gregory Leurent, allegedly a schizoid with psychotic outbursts, is sent to Greece in order to ‘rest’ at my place and consequently establish links to the Psychiatric Hospital in Serres, as it seems there is presumption the ‘rough matter’ could be found there. Proof, for me sufficient, for the fact they are running out of it, thanks to a general popular effort to ‘cut lines with France’.

The fact that terroristic activity seems to diminish after the 11th Mars attack in Madrid, can consequently be linked to that fact and build up a consequent indirect proof for the before mentioned.

I could myself not determine, inside of my own patterns of understanding, much more than a somewhat repressed homosexual behaviour in Franck Leurent, and neither schizophrenia nor any kind of psychosis, and this even after his having given in to my recommendation to stop medication. The chemistry he was apparently needing was not known in Greece and actually, he obtained a receipt only for some others, whose use he will stop immediately after.

It may be said that at the same time, mafia is slowly being monopolized by a few heads, among which the called Federman and someone called Salif in Damas, as well as someone I call (?) in China, determining the extent and nature of operations in agreement with those two groups, the French and the German. It may be said further more, that an unlucky control on taxes has as effect Federman is pushed out of the USA and establishes headquarters in Jerusalem. Which has though not avoided that circon is sold as diamond to the US State through parallel channels as will be proved in 2005 (contact of Puerto Rican Mafia in deal with circon and/or diamond with US officials, as stated and witnessed in Hotel Oro Verde February 2005 after information passed by the wife of the concerned, Ecuatorian, to an acquaintance).

Language titles from 1986 and 2004: Proficiency through Cambridge and Acces au DALF through the Alliance Francaise in Madrid

Registration of the theatre piece “La femme d’Urie” in France, 2001

It is easy to conclude that Federman has built up a ‘club’ with people of her knowledge who come to pay her a visit at King David and that, exception made of a few, the Spaniard, the rapper and I, among a few others, who land there most accidentally, most of the people visiting King David between 2003 and 2004 belong to different branches of Mafia, including the Russian Mafia and the Sicilian one.

I hold then the most surprising presence of a few Ministers of Foreigns Affairs and Prime Ministers as hint of proof for the fact they are linked to the same ‘organization’, a soft coming and going between French Intelligence, German underground nazi groupments, Church and heads of Mafia in their interaction to ’social representatives’.

I’m in all right to think that this ‘configuration’ is blocking action of police, investigation, international police and legislation that may put an end to their plans. It seems as if congruent and effective political measures had become impossible. It looks as if elements of these were playing a very effective double game linking police to mafia and random illegal political groups.

It seems obvious that I can’t fight against all that all alone by myself without corresponding criteria allowing to discern who to who and that on the other hand, high risk exists all sorts of accusations are even proved by means of lies and witnesses if of need and pending on my head, may make me end in prison for ever if not dead somewhere.

It is obvious that the means by which I have obtained this insight are not common and that the world is moving inside of a general scheme organizing data, which, being different, does not allow arriving to the same conclusions.

I would say that if these facts are revealed and sufficiently proved, it may lead to the dissolution of the Bundesrepublik and the Republique Francaise if not to war.

I would develop the hypothesis of the ‘Emperor’ as possible bridging political structure inside of this awareness, although I really prefered to get 2 shekel a person per year in order to eat ice cream in a random office in Jerusalem.

Hypothesis of the ‘Emperor’ also called the Neu Schwanstein hypothesis or the Ludwig II hypothesis, as structuring a financial organization in interaction, state 2003

Having mislead so easily the fiscal (?), I presume that direct action is impossible and while a police officer is sent to quarrel with the OTM, the Ministery of Foreign Affairs is informed of irregularities, Leya, the witness, is put in security, and I pretend, in France, to have established deepest links to Federman. I guess they will become her most definite enemies and thus they will finish be eating up each other.

If this most personal and intuitive reaction counting with Schwartz popular engagement had as result that the political sphere is somehow overwhelmed by the presence of the army, is not of my knowledge although I rather considered such a possibility as a temporary solution.

In any case, I must have to find a place where to hide away and this even more so if stones really destroy national electronical systems. I don’t believe it, personally, but if it happens, I will have to run away to the other end of the world.

In any case my peculiar axe of thought I have to develop in a few hours seen that apparently particular cases may affect general situations in most surprising ways looks the following way: I state a contradiction in ‘nature’ between army and ‘Gestapo methodology’ as if they were incompatible (reaction of the Serbian soldiers), reason why I think a reinforcement of the army ‘healthy’. I state an incompatibility between traditional mafia and those obscure and diffuse and very dangerous intermediate positions that make you end up in prison when you don’t do what they want. I thus reinforce the links between traditional mafia and a police type that leans on the army. This ‘body’ keeps the separation lines between mafia activity and established bodies inside of reasonable limits and avoids the misuse of mafia for political purpuses. It becomes impossible to ‘make use’ of mafia now and this weakens as much the German nazi groupment as … French Intelligence.

This system, where the police is even using prostitutes as informers had become intuitive ’form’ in politically very weak FIROM and leads to the discovery of hidden weapons, thing avoiding the conflagration during the Kosovo war. The same ‘methodology’ eliminates criminal types through a on a ‘partizan’ tradition leaning popular reaction: as much Arkan as Dchidchicz are hold for betrayers and eliminated.

I can state: that the method through which ‘lovers, betrayers, spies and whatever’ were determined, is leaning on ancestral methodologies that may have entered formal spheres of government with unknown consequences. That the language allowing the transmission of these conclusions is based on signs as tradition in gipsy environment and seems to have entered formal spheres, too, with unknown consequences.

I intend to: try out what kind of effect stones may have on electronical systems and find a proof for the involvement of the German government in the before mentioned. If I manage to prove that stones interact with electronical systems and that Germany is involved in everything, actually, I need to reconstruct what has happened from the beginning in order to find not only the path through which these disturbances occurred but to separate both again through the establishment of criteria allowing to transfer parameters of intuitive reason into law or rational structures of understanding.

I can say that inside of my virtual Empire intercession has been exchanged for a path, so that the fault doesn’t fall on who intercedes and leaves open a possibility, a last chance, for whoever has fallen down the pit, following in psychopathetic lines a blind ‘destiny’ leading to a situation that forces the recognition of fault and if this done, to a recovery of reason or moral sens, and thus to life. If this interacts again with general situations, I wil have to deal with it at the end, too.

In my agenda, I have still the matters concerning: Hannah’s murder, Ines de la Fressange, and related to it matters of banking and the kind.

I refuse all involvement in the restablishment of the situation concerning diamonds and circons and refuse to find proves, actual task of the police. I restrain my activity to the witnessing of what I have witnessed, thing that may lead to action leading to the finding of proves inside of each way of understanding. If this involves psychopathetic lines that are not ‘registered’ I will fall on the responsible all alone by myself.

I will build up a proof or several on how these most ancient methodology works inside of an electronical system (hypothesis: Athina Onassis, Ines de la Fressange and Sask, among other subsidiary).

To reinforce what I say, I will forward a few documents, just in case.

Dear fiscal,

It’s true that time has passed and yet it is not later than then. I had promised to myself I would try giving a proper explanation concerning facts occured between 1992 and today, and hope this will be enough.

First. Sometimes you think a mad idea is a more proper solution than a long explanation because we simply judge on reality differently. Even if this evidence is not of common belief nowadays, I have for me subjectively proves enough for the fact that our reality understanding takes its foundation in a ‘fairy tale’, a compound of stories and somehow understood facts, which, if transmitted more generally by tradition, build up a national consciousness upon which we construct reason, understanding, social organizations and justice.

It’s – and that’s the reason for me to make such effort in defining arts – as if you tried defining beauty through a notion and not through formal criteria: this notion will make you appreciate a certain number of things and not others and will move your hand one way and not another. Correspondingly, these ’stories and fairy tales’ create a feeling of justice or happiness, of possible destiny and in any case conditions what we do and how we understand reality. I would call this fairy tale  ‘religion’ and can presume that whatever we do is determined by our inheritance in this that each of us has to seek out the meaning of his own ‘fairy tale’. I would say that the state takes its foundation there and in the effort to establish links to others, we should never forget to leave place enough for what is ours.

Thus, I think that we judge on reality differently, depending on where we come from and on how much our fairy tale stays distant to another. What may be obvious for me, will not be it for you and vice versa and logically, I think it almost an absurd to even give opinions on other peoples matters. I presume, too, that there are always people, who, due to a particular talent or specific intelligence have the capability to understand there were not only one reality – thing that is of need to be thought by many as it is reassuring – and somehow lean back on a more universal ‘truth’ or way of understanding the same ‘fairy tale’ and thus find bridges to other people and nations in order to make them richer or become richer through them without bothering the rest who is still making the effort to determine a concrete reality for itself inside of a more general groupment of people.

Inside of this, but also inside of an extremely confused general situation, I think to grasp France’s deeper intentionality concerning Middle Orients and specifically Israel through the fact that one of the members of the first expedition is son of someone working for French Intelligence, as I was confirmed later, but which had already appeared as possibility through the fact that he had obtained a passport in quite peculiar ways.

Identification with false data giving out G Leurent as belonging to  a religious order (fra)

To my understanding, this person is moving inside of a psychopathetic logic, thing that could be confirmed by most traditional or common means, and finishes by translating the general intentionality inside of  his appropriation of the title ‘Im Jerusalem’, belonging, they say, to the last King of Jerusalem, Baldwin. Whether Baldwin is Belgian or French is difficult to establish: it is clear in any case that France pretends it belonged to them and has built up a strategy which is based on this fact. As far as I can understand it then, the idea is to play a double faced game where, while pretending to forward a solution, all means are used in order to bomb up all possibility peace may not arise: support of Palestinian, introduction of illegal elements into the context, diversion of elements of intelligence towards other countries, etc, with the final idea to arrive whenever all will break down as final peace makers and open their ‘property office’ somewhere in an old Palace of Jerusalem. As the matter is linked to the Church, this is used for these purposes, too.

I understand a psychopathetic language quite well, but this is not very common. The evidence that has arisen for me is certainly not an evidence that can be shared more generally and from a universal point of view, I may say even it were none of my concern. Had I not thought that independently of happenings whose memory history will never erase, there must be a possibility to restablish a situation such that bridges of communication were opened again to Israel, I would perhaps not even have taken note. But this fact would certainly condition more general politics as Germany put in situation of inferiority after 1945, thing implying it must be taking general political guide lines from others and this, the active collaboration in the before mentioned plans.

Probable intervention of French Intelligence in the disappearing of the second intermediate title and registration of ‘memoire’ and missing two marks (BA in Philosophy obtained in 1992 and whose title I will get in 1999)

It’s that I think that the fault of your fathers doesn’t fall on you if you take distances while confronted to a similar situation. How much, thus, the possibility does not appear to buy up a more general fault by opening a parallel path implying perhaps, only me?

I will not start trying convincing others of things that can only appear clearly to my own mind.

I have been poisoned in the meantime and my mind does not appreciate situations as usual. However peculiar the situation may be judged, I don’t seem to esteem a real danger is implied by it. But as far as I can understand, the combination of different chemistries, does produce a subjective evidence for things that rather belong to the realm of imagination, being at the origin of a psychotic behaviour, in most cases. As I can see that, I put whatever appears then under the general principle of ‘I’m writing a book’, as the activity of writing books allows to get lost in fantasies and imaginations and even to believe for a while they were true. To be honest, I would not even then have been able to make the difference between what is of truth, imagination, fact or other.

Possible sample of poisoning mushroom affecting the liver found in the whereabouts of Mavrothalassa around 2000

Complaint to the General Hospital of Serres of ‘fever and ‘diffuse perception of reality” with request for examinations that will not show cause

But in any case it seems that a proper solution may be obtained by ‘reverting’ France’s plans: ‘I’ am going to make a horrible war and claim there is a duel and this must oblige to sharpen measures of security and this will perhaps avoid the worse and in any case, it puts the marks of distance towards those who are jus wanting to destroy hiding away their intentionality behind a smile. On top, it may help me back to health. Thing you should never forget.

If  ‘we’ are right, I will get to Jerusalem a third time and all in all, I say to Conchi, you can’t but admit that it is a really beautiful idea to ask for a 2 shekel tribute a year per person and eat ice creams after because there is nobody worth them and this after having sent an Embassy to Pakistan that can now open a small office in a corner and become, – I laughed -, a  tourists attraction and symbol and proof for how affairs are settled in civilized ways. If we loose, I may loose my life, symbol and proof for the fact that you should study matters very carefully before jumping into the defense of other people’s claims.

What clearly appears to me is that, at least in what concerns my own destiny, parameters of reason and judgement are restored in almost medieval ways. It’s Spanish myth that Cid’s daughters had to be revenged for an unproper behaviour and Cid sent to the court two of his men, who were not nobles. It is said that they may defend the daughter’s honor even if they are not nobles because it is in matter of justice: those responsible for the whole, run away when they are called to the duel and thus, the daughters are ‘divorced’ by a ‘God’s judgement’ and get married with two dukes.

This logic is  a logic that moves on the following ground: I say something, you say something, we both think we are right. We put a ‘duel’ between us both, with rules and judges and the one who wins is consequently right and the one who looses has to pay a 2 shekels tribute as punishment for having insisted in maintaining a wrong position. To say.

For me, it is the foundation of philosophy: I think this is true, you think this is true, I try to argue in order to convince you trough reason, you don’t give in. We separate fields and the consequence in reality shows who is right. We don’t make duels because we don’t deal with justice but with wisdom, but in the depth it is the same. It is very difficult to show what I mean inside of a context where the consequence is not considered as resulting of a way of thinking. In fact, philosophy is reduced to ‘what I think for myself’, or ‘who I may persuade of what I say’, or ‘who is stronger in number’. To my understanding, this basic bahaviour destroys the essence of philosophy and rational parameters are quickly gone lost. I thus invade the territory of ‘justice’ in a realm that does not seem to bother the common progress of reality: a fairy tale. Nobody will ever be able to prove whether Baldwin has a third cousin who may claim for a title and in the depth, Pakistan will have no documents either. Consequently there is no territorial claim, if you avoid war: the claim is symbolic, means to show how things stay in history and can be proved by the consequence. Well, psychological war implies perhaps to shout around a lot, but that’s parts of the game.

Correspondance with Pakistan

For the time being no horse has left the borders of Pakistan. But may, one day, if their claim is true. To say: rationally you can’t attack but on those basis. There is a claim, there is a proof, and the ‘looser’ doesn’t want to give in to the evidence. This is the only justification allowing to move armies. Luckily, we don’t pretend to more than a title, but we may finish by claiming for 2 shekels a head per year for the effort and in order to cover the expenses of the Queen of Sabah in Jerusalem. Imagine. A fairy tale that has opened an office next to David Tower.

It’s too beautiful. Consider that at that moment as much as for many years later, I perceive these ‘projections’ as reality. I burst out laughing thinking we may claim for 2 shekels a person and think it a really historical moment that day The Queen of  Sabah will arrive in her carriage accompanied by a 30 horses and guards.

Strangely, my usually quite rational mind perceives the glimpse of a solution inside of it all: Muslims adore fairy tales because they transmist truths in symbolic ways and it builds up an incredible bridge to other ways of understanding. But that is really complicated. In any case the whole attempt even inserted in much more complicated political turmoils, does not seem to bother but to build up an active element forwarding peace through the more subjective aspect of a possible understanding among people.

Necessary registration of sheep (and not ship as Leya wanted to understand) in 2002

Second. But where does the Queen of Sabah come from? In  a situation where it is difficult to keep a cold mind, it becomes almost impossible to say. I simply know that I’m very happy, feel horribly peaceful as if all pieces of the puzzle had been put together and esteem it ‘right’ from that point of view. I verify, cross lines to Pakistan and yes, there is someone who correponds to the profile. If it is and if she maintains, and accepts on top my symbolic guard, she will accept a private conversation. She does. Very well, my proposition has backing and I can go on without having to be afraid for my life and others.

This reality configuration is surprising. What does it mean: cross lines to Pakistan, get profiles, put conditions that mean something somehow, and the kind? I don’t know, but it feeds the fairy tale well enough and seems to be putting on top rules into a chess game. These are psychopathetic lines, these underworld communications I’m studying, that are ordered, ruled upon, submit to conditions, don’t go beyond borders. It is to the psychic world, what my duel is to justice or what the notion of beauty is to arts.

I will submit to the evidence that those keeping such wisdom can’t say lies.

It’s not that you say now, Israel belongs to Pakistan. It is that Israeli have arrived inside of a certain number of patterns that allow the conquest of earth through war and have forgotten to pay tribute to the Queen of Sabah. To the wisdom inherent of a tradition that has lasted thousands of years and has left marks and signs in architecture and city organization, in walls and wells. It’s symbolic, certainly, but to accept it solves the other horrible problem: it’s not only forms and techniques, machines and cyphers, it is the possibility to rest when your eyes touch the vision of something outside that is saying wisdom with its very appearance. Men against women, again, and leave a place to the realm of women.

Independently of how little I have to do with the whole, it’s obvious that I will submit to that wisdom. As things are, I don’t perceive anything better my own way of being may fit inside.

Third. Our quarrels are our quarrels and other people’s quarrels are other people’s quarrrels. My final purpose is to write a book: to show how harmonic reality is inside of a given number of patterns, how beauty and justice springs out of it in order to give to each the choice to know which path he chooses. It should warn at the same time of things that are certainly happening and put those involved in front of the same choice. But we don’t interfere in those things because it is none of our concern.

From a personal point of view, I can say that this ‘esthetical criterium’ has put balsam on my quite troubled heart, which is fighting day and night with demons and devils, black magics and maledictions. It will finish by explaining everything, even put names on questions that do not concern but us, proof for the fact that there are deeper, more essential links that go beyond differences in the way of apprehending reality.

My almost dangerous shift towards the fairy tale will warrant my life but put intelligibility in a very dubious situation. It’s not the same to say: I’ve seen this and that, recurrence to 30%, with definition this and that and in essential link of consequences, that, so that you can explain these phenomena this way, or: Says the Queen of Sabah, do. Perhaps it is the same in the depth, or one thing is linked to the other somehow, but in any case it is really not the same realm of reality and I have no choice but to stay inside of the second.

Birth certificate from 1998 for Sonja Kasten y Checa with father Arne Kasten von Speth Schülzburg and mother Marina Checa y Molina

It appears then that we Christian, quite unworthy servants of the same master, are quarreling on a certain number of subjects, some of which seem to affect more some than other and vice versa. I’m inside of a ‘mess’ trying to clear up ‘what is to say ‘I’m the truth”, and this related to someone said John inside of a story that is linked to the one called Lazare. These matters are Christian matters, are of the concern of Christian because they jump out of their fairy tale and actually should not leave borders. Unluckily or luckily, who knows, the Christian can’t solve his matters without a proper understanding of OT, because it is said so and you have to stay inside of the conditions given: Don’t move a iota from law.

If there is an error in the common understanding of OT, it will affect our matters, too, and as far as I know, not moving a iota from law, now, are a few Jews in a certain understanding. These are metaphysical allies. There are people keeping a certain number of precepts you need of in order to continue with your own investigations.

In general we may say, we are in horrible trouble. Something is disturbing the clear perception of whatever, reason, light, wisdom, the way you put it. Muslims defend their own character and refuse imposed evidence: a marvelous border and barriers avoiding our trouble may not jump over to others who can’t know what we are talking about. Allies again, for me their task is to avoid our nervous incapability to deal with our own affairs may not affect too many. They have their own tasks, but that is of their concern. For me they are healthy, helpful and useful and keep deepest wisdom inside of what they do, say and think.

What Jews are doing is their own business, too. For me, they are warranting the validity of OT laws and from my perspective they are the warrant for the fact Christ is ever. That he comes a little earlier or a little later, is something that depends on each apprehension: the fact that there are who are waiting for him makes of him an ‘always coming’, not a historical moment with a short appearance in time, but a ‘character’, a ‘logic’, who may choose to come back the moment he wants to. I may think he has already come, others may not have reached that insight yet, and the very fact they’re waiting for one to come assures this very possibility: I may mean what I want, I can’t see him anywhere. If there are who still wait, I may be there, too, when he comes back, not to miss this time the historical moment.

From that point of view, traditional Jews form an extraordinary backing for my own fairy tale.

Statement of presence at the German Embassy of Skopje and request of passport to the German Embassy of Thessaloniki

Independently of that, there are matters that have arisen with the appearance of someone saying himself Christ that affect those concerned and not others. And this, independently of whether it is true or not. We are said a man called Lazare was woken up from death. We. Not you. In my reality configuraton this is a fact I have to deal with, not you. But wait: Elie woke up a dead, too, by putting his body on the one of the young man. Well, it’s a similar ‘fact’ that has something in common we have to deal with, but there is a difference, because in my story there are two women asking for this to happen while in your story, which is my story, too (it’s always better to have more than one story) Elie wants to thank the mother for her hospitality and gives in to her request to bring him back to life when she says that he has brought many disgraces on her house since he has arrived.

You have to deal with that and I have to deal with this and as things are, better solve your own story as it would be far too much if I had two stories to solve at the same time.

What do I mean by ’solving a story’? The story relates an event that shocks the mind somehow. You listen to it and then you say, is it ever possible? Another will say, I don’t believe it. And the you say, but how is it possible? Ad start asking questions and study the situation and if this were true than this must be true but then, this is a lie, and this other story has similar elements, etc. The story has introduced a new factor of intelligibility inside of our usual way of understanding and trying to occupy a place inside of a general understanding of reality, is pushing things hold for true back and is giving meaning to things that looked meaningless.

It means that inside of this general moving of positions and attempts to understand, many wicked deviations are possible. They stay there because they could be right, or a path leading to understanding, become oppressing, are fought against, usually defeated and the next steps are made on this new acquisition.

Picture of daughter Federman made on visual impressions on agatha stone in Angers, December 2003 

I think, in the depth, that nothing of what happens to us is an accident and believe that the tasks put on our shoulders are these exactly because there must be way to fullfill them. I can see that the ‘black magic’ having bothered so many years of my life is arising from the trouble arising in patterns of judgement when the wicked ‘dead’ (it’s parts of the fairy tale, the wicked always die at the end) comes suddenly back to life: can God who decides on death stay in contradiction with himself and refuse his own judgement by bringing someone back to life? He himself may come back to life or not die at all as parameters of what is life and death are other, but Lazare?

Two women and a man in between is the configuration. Life’s love: the erratic electron bothering humanity whole finds always a place to stay between two women. Was there reason for him to die? Was there not? How far does pity reach? Is it pity or a punishment? Do you pretend to be more than who I’m in my judgements? Take the burden of his fault then. To my understanding, the very notion of ‘human responsibility’ appears then. What God wants is not only that we listen to him and submit to his sayings blindly, but that we confront ourselves to him to admit finally that … he was right. Or perhaps not? Can the human go beyond God? As much as him but not more and this should imply the possibility of discovering new paths he veils his eyes to, on purpose.

‘Black magic’ appears when a configuration whose meaning has not been cleared up is used for wicked purposes. It is possible to say that what Baldwin is making use of is exactly this logic in this that hold by two women, he introduces death into life in order for him to shine. A passive psychopathetic logic that is of the realm of women usually and enters men’s mind with Lazare. Or was already there with the widow’s son? Somehow the same but differently? For us, it appears there.

Schwartz contribution to the psychopaths hunting. Picture made by him for the psychic type called ‘Lolita’ inducing through electronic logics used by Microsoft a cover to the OTM Mafia in Rumania

Lazare is not one. Lazare is someone who may get so shocked by his experience that he repents of his doings for the rest of his life and finds perhaps a path up to heavens. It may be someone who feels well with the burden put on his sisters and goes on eating peanuts for the rest of his life thinking he has assured himself eternal life. There are a few possibilities inside of a scheme and each has to be studied carefully. One of them is that Lazare thinks the two sisters are in the obligation of getting him out of death. Another, that he jumps into death on purpose to see the miracle happening again.

One thing is for sure: the story reminds very much a miracle that has bombed up neurons. It has simply made that all patterns to evaluate Heaven’s justice are distroyed. What looks like a miracle may be nothing but a heavy malediction on our heads.

This is exactly what becomes a determining logic in a few minds due to an accident: the erratic electron is linking two women or female, or as if female, through its insisting, bothering, contradictory presence. I, as I, would have never asked for Lazare’s life. My mind is burdened with a task that has nothing to do with me essentally and which opens an enormous amount of questions. Who is the other woman? There are many. What is the link between both? Ambivalent erotical lines in transactions of death to undetermined others who are at the other end of the world and who seem to suffer of the same miserable destiny. Is this love? I wouldn’t say so. But it looks like because the electron is pretending such.

Codification of lines of Shaolin Monk ‘Leopard’ who will appear for seconds in a video on Shaolin found in 2009 moving inside of the logical structures of leopards

Each solves the question his own way and has to confront himself to it inside of his own patterns, his own environment, with the weapons he has through inheritance or acquires on the way. The reasons why the ‘configuration’ has become parts of his destiny are different and may provoke different reactions. I decide to cut myself in two: my body is the electron because the male is spatial and a body in ambivalent lines between death and life, and I stay inside of my soul with huge barriers between I and my body. I believe that I’m stronger than my body, the resources of soul are much more than those of body and love is stronger than death. I have to get rid of the ‘body’: not of my material presence but of the erratic electron that has to say itself properly inside of its material image. I have to watch out: to see what it says and find terrible arguments to defeat it. Is it so, the cut reality disappears, I master my flesh and impose on it the new logic that has defeated the dragon.

That I’m correctly orientating my solution shows on the fact that my liver is hit and after my neurons: this is, the miracle that bombs up neurons and this is: one sister and the other which are good if there is milk (Alfa number of variables) and bad if there is not (Beta number of variables.) And if there is milk, then the body segregates Lazare in its multiple varaibles and I, yes, I’m free and have properly solved my task.

We, those involved in this adventure, have put our ‘I’ in a formal identity that actually has no sexual identity. Logically. Who are you? One of both, or the other or the electron in between? The possibility of immediate association to a ‘pole’ is impossible. If there are poles. Are there? There are no poles in sisters, normally, except if you make them up.

Wilheim and the Challenger hypothesis or the ‘will back home’ in symbol with the Chinese hypothesis possibly linked to Hannah

The idea there are poles seems to be helpful. It’s logical, too. If I’m in deepest love with you, the thing I will be moving towards is to get rid of the stupid fly in between. The stronger love is, the more I will be fighting against the insisting presence of this dead thing putting quarrel and sex there where I just wanted to play cards. This implies to think a chaste sexuality. You can’t love without pretending to a sexual interaction (except if you adore Solovjev) and actually the material image in the realization of love is a much stronger motor than whatever book you may be wanting to write in the future. To get rid of the silly electron. I don’t mind my ugliness but feel very ashamed of it if you are there. I will do something to get rid of it: were it an illness or a stupid electron. It does not mean you may pretend to love anyone: it helps you through.

At the end you conclude that there is a chaste sexuality whenever and only you have gone rid of the silly fly. But that are perspectives that get opened on the way and justify other happenings and solve other questions.

My dear lover, Sask, lives in another configuration. The day I will get rid of the fly, she will die. While Natasha takes care of Hannah and Tula of Heleni and Li of Ines de la Fressange (the unworthy, really), I open a careful investigation on my virtual destiny as this should be the space, the realm, the whole love story should be moving inside while I’m trying to get rid of the fly.

Independently of what happens – that will never happen, you say, but is going to heal you in the meantime – you don’t get married to people just because a psychopathetic line has put someone just in front the day you were asking yourself the question of what to do on these matters. Precisely, that’s all the problem: the electron finds the means through the unconscious to know when you’re asking yourself such question and is going to appear at the right moment, putting horrible trouble into the whole hypothesis.

Sask has decided to cut herself in two but has put the electron outside and puts enormous barriers between her and the other inside of the formal recognition of the evidence of the fact that something is really attached to another inner configuration. Formal is legal and thus she can say she’s very happy with her solution.

Codification of notion of psychic type of Sask inside of the patterns of proof as given

Actually she will have much more trouble than I to get rid of the electron and perhaps she will never inside of given circumstances. Actually she’s feeding her soul with my hypothetical lines in my virtual love story that keep a parameter of reason inside of the whole. The way virtual Sask is linked to the real Sask is the same a A Lazare is linked to a B Lazare: same type in a determined difference. The day my Lazare will die, made a horrible chemical compound that will shock Mr Hutchinson, lines will disappear because I have solved my problem and poor Sask will die.

That day I staid back. Look at that, I say, such a thing. What am I doing? I have gone into my own particular hypothesis, have cut myself happily in two, have ordered all parameters and yes, with which justification? Such an usual way of doing. And I think back of my family history. Look at that. An exception that has become tradition and my grand mother wearing a title outside of law, has put us all into the jungle. We will do the same: a logical twist that convinces at a certain moment and affects social reality is parts of my inheritance.

That’s what I’m doing: a logic allows to cut myself in two, to make of my body an image, to invent a love story in order to make things easier, inside and only of my grand mothers tradition who, on top, found a social recognition for such an attended pretension. I start laughing and say ‘Ich, Emperor’, inside of the jungle my own master. What I do is my business and I have to give explanations to no one and as this is far too pretentious, I put my efforts under the shield and cover of the Queen of Sabah.

Inside of the jungle there were virtual legslations that affect only me, virtual love stories that stay inside of borders, virtual solutions that lead really to health and so on. That’s what I’m: my context, my reality, my inheritance is a jungle opened by a grand mother allowing the thinking of a female aristocracy with retroactive legislation, which, if I proceed, makes of me an Emperor upon myself.

I thought it was really funny because it justifies my bizarre state between reality and a fairy tale and I put strong borders between me and the world and people have the right to knock at the door and exchange a few words but not to get inside because I’m not going to steal members of other territories. On the other hand, all attempt to break my walls is going to be thoroughly punished. Thus I can go with studies on black magic, transfer of psychic reality to social reality, my profound and most moving love story that never leads anywhere, etc, without affecting the world. I presumed.

In order to make the love story more convincing, I decide to create clear poles. As their is no other identification mark left, I decide to ‘choose’ through activity. What do you like doing, what does really occupy your mind. I mean, you can cook every day, but perhaps you’re just doing that out of obligation. On top, we still don’t know what makes a man and what a woman (voices from Spain through Oriol in 2001 say that ‘I’m too radically making separations’ – did I ask you to enter my black magic compound, I ask, and answer, it is better to separate clearly in order to determine the differences and then to have a look at softer variables.) Finally, as these things depend on societies and cultures, we decide that Sask is a man and I a woman because war is the task of men and I’m writing  a book.

The principle of differentiation is build up on this: if a man makes war, he woud like someone tells what kind of heroicities he has committed or incurred into, he will never be able of as he is concetrated in learning how to deal with weapons. Thus, the reason why he is fighting is finally to protect the one who may write or say the story because otherwise he has no name.

That family does not become finality (children) it is because the attempt is made to abstract love from its material reality: love is justified even when people have no children if this is God’s will. Even when there are no children, a woman does something and the something is symbolized by the name the man obtains through what she does.

Logically, Sask translates this into her own pattern and sees that necessarily a couple may have a reason to be only if it has a child, that is to say, a bomb. The product of the interaction of both is something that wears the mark of both inside of a general structure that is determining its appearance. On great advantage in Sask is that she never leaves her territory although she gets influenced by other poeple’s movements because this is common in her territory. Thus, what result of her solution is a bomb, where one part is a ‘her’ laying beside a very dangerous ‘other’ that will put an end … to Israel.

If this becomes more general, there is no love and without love there is no future: the bomb has a technical failure that will make it explode there where it is. Logically. Two men should never get married: I laughed that day.

The failure is not inside, it is due to the environment. In a reasonable world, a society should have the means to control whether a couple is ‘compatible’ and avoid marriages without foundation. Here, it does almost oblige to marriage, thing unthinkable if you have a person moving in formal patterns, because there is no polarity. As Sask’s patterns are ruled by image, she has to get married. As the pretender can’t love because there is no polarity, it must be a fake, a fake is an idiot, and an idiot is dangerous. Thing she clearly says while building up a corresponding bomb, that should on top, perhaps be the only solution.

In the meantime, logically, the social cover given to the ‘idiot’ has attracted Federman, who finds an extremely comfortable place to stay. Conclusion: the bomb has a mechanism attracting probably atomic energy from a plant it has somehow reached, or something of the kind. The child is dangerous, she seems to conclude and adopts.

Hand of Fatima handed over by Irit Gazit the day of departure with the seal of Dan Hotels

The problem is social, there are no controls on inner reliability.

Is the bomb enough to get a divorce? To get rid of the electron? Look, Gazit, if you start justifying divorces because someone has made a bomb, we will end up in the Himalaya – that one has a bad temper and says ‘I’ve made an embroidery and the other has cooked a Chinese meal’ and it will never end. You have to go to England. Make a duel, put a something between one and the other that makes appear clearly that the one does not fit to the other.

I would say that Sask has a vertical six wings logic that has simply fused. Instead of showing a horizontal six wings structures, it is vertical. Let us do something, as I have mislead myself so happily with my virtual bomb: put ff lines in erotical lines. Put the ‘child’, the product, in middle lines and mm lines in upper lines and create a tension.

Through function: Sask is a man and needs a woman (ff in erotical lines), she has to do something that is very important through her function (a bomb in mf) and makes business, an intellectual activity as it implies balanced exchanges in mm. Because it is like that. I’m a female in lines mm and thus make business with m in mm, who wants to buy an improval for the bomb to impress f in ff.

What happens? The bomb can’t be an excuse for a divorce but is useful for a war. You’re really lucky, I go on thinking, because if this is true, it introduces the six wings logic into male patterns of understanding.

Logically: I say that the moral fault after verified through a duel, justifies war. Female patterns. The breaking of international law is the same in male patterns and if there is infringement there is a moral justification. Such a nice couple we make, Sask, I will tell the story finally. As female in mm, probably, as things are, but that’s parts of the fun.

Luckily I was right and the deal worked, don’t fall asleep the day the war starts. A bomb is exchanged for another whose implications may be very vast. I, the emperor inside of my own kingdom, have made my first business outside of walls. My bomb is very reasonable, finally and will certainly not cause more damage than what it should. What can be more reasonable for a man in war but to make a bomb? Even more so if someone has to tell the story after. Such a deep reasonable reason will not allow the misuse of the bomb in question.

It’s true that I’m quite homosexual in the meantime, but well, it’s better than what my eyes perceived as only other possible solution. I, as man, am deeply in love with my soldier hero and I, yes I, claim for an usurpation. Let us see how I find the means to justify such pretension and the best is I leave for Ecuador in the meantime. Women don’t claim, and even less female without social context and the only thing left is that my soldier hero falls deeply in love with me. Today: do you prefer the image that is void or at least the feeling of deepest love that has arisen of such a general quid pro quo? It’s  a choice; there is no here and there in my radical patterns of understanding.

Well. If you chose that feeling, we still don’t know whether it is me you love, we will have to verify. I told you already then that I was no homosexual man although I very much look like one, now. In any case, whatever happens after you can dissolve a marriage in sufficient proves of lack of essential boundary of marriage. Your deepest love is the sign for this essential link that was absent before. The marriage is not valid.

There is no law determining these things fundamentally: I don’t interfere in how you marry your children (Prophets). If you manage to convince someone with this, you’re welcome in the State of the Varonen von Speth und zu Schülzburg and belong to my family.

We may play cards in the meantime.

Let’s go on working on our fundamental problem and try determining an identity that is independently of our confused trouble and virtual hypothesis and hypothetical determinations. I’m the one who finds you without path and am able to translate this you don’t understand into a language you understand. This is ‘I’. If someone falls in love with me it is into this and this is a female pattern in relationship even if I look like a  homosexual man today. This ‘I’ has absorbed elements of mm wings in image and finality and has some of mf, too, because there must be a place for everyone inside of my Empire. I must be a female of something. I will never say it is, I will say it is somehow related to someone.

And we will have to build up a proof for what I say, Sask agrees to without understanding the horrible implications deriving: I say, that if Sask is married without foundation, I in myself or in the name of another will find her through the means I say and you may hide her away as much as you like.

Inside of the notion I make an image of today, there is already her name and I will find in time and before need, an image of hers with her name. Thus, we can leave wars inside of international law and leave our duels for matters of love.

And we will see for the rest.

These both are the principles of my Empire and you will assume the consequences of the implications deriving of the somewhat desperate intervention in foreign affairs, you may excuse me for, as it does actually nothing but correspond to an urgency I got aware of accidentally whose responsibility I assume as it is matter of life or death for many.

It implies I will have to add a second chapter with explanations but that’s the least of my worries. If I’m right, thing I hope, there will be long lasting peace thanks to the Queen of Sabah and say thank you if you are not willing to pay  a tribute.

I opened my imaginary agenda that day, being sure that at least that was imaginary, and as if I was really a very serious person, – serious people always have an agenda, – and wrote down a few notes:

I could presume now that the liver poisoning had been an accident of a determined nature. Afraid we may learn about the gold traffic and thus about an operation headquarter in Balkans, someone is said to invite us to change the path from Rumania to Serbia with the idea of saying a little after to Serbia, there are spies around and make us disappear. Unluckily, Serbian don’t kill anyone and the man at the border tells us on top, why we should change the itinerary. I’m eventually identified as the only one who may cause trouble and poisoned. I would call that a routine operation acting in panick after failure, which, eventually, is answering to very deep and hidden signals of the unconscious.

I would say that the happening in En Kareim corresponds exactly to that pattern.

I’m though in direct knowledge of something strange.

I can presume then, that the atack on neurons is a deliberate attack answering to what someone thinks to be a personal offense. Apparently the ‘shadow of a ghost’ has felt a horrible offense because he has been called ‘beggar’ and has moved a few links in order to revenge such fact. I would say that this attack happens between Mersin and Cyprus, reason why I know that there is a chemistry healing the liver. To which extent my personal research of help through very near communication lines to Tula helps to the realization of it, is difficult to say, but it is true that I don’t feel specially menaced by that. If I’m not searching for something to heal me, ‘the shadow of  a ghost, or the shadow of the dog, in Brel’s words’, these idiots don’t find lines of attack. It’s not excesively difficult to know where it comes from and to induce an error that allows to get an approximate amount of what I need to get healed.

From Gölpazari to Cyprus, my state of mind is getting down and down into the pits of the unconscious in order to try finding a solution. It seems as if these realms of the unconscious implied a perspective that contains elements we are rarely aware of: possibilities are measured with human measures and over all situations appear in notions linked one to the other in almost irreal ways. On the way down, I’m seeing projects, blocks of thoughts, like quarrels, stories and fairy tales, Hannah appears, Tula appears, Sask is there, somewhere, I tell a few of these things to Conchi as if taking notes of something very surprising and inside of all that I see a very small and narrow path that may lead me back to health.

A project as inner finality is something that keeps you alive, and even more so if I have really seen that it leads back to health. Voices ask for a place to stay, for means of realization, for a ‘similar language’ environment, for financial resources, and put a few marks of things that have to happen and I will recognize in order for me to be sure everything is happening according to plans. It’s no accident that the messengers of the Queen of Sabah appear at that moment. The ‘psychic cloud’ linked to this ‘story’ is parts of the solution. There is a quick transfer of political coordinates into psychic notions and a most interesting perspective appears inside of the realization of a novel whose matter has been taken out of reality. It’s true that I somewhat count with the fact that Sask will make of it a duel. The opposition is what keeps you alive. You need to sharpen intelligence every day in order to get the means to do what you want. It means your attention is alert and this helps you to wake up the day after.

From my point of view it’s a random, almost unsignificant happening that will certainly not shake the world. I will loose 10 years time of my life, up to 15 actually. To put such a finality at the end of the process, implies these 15 years have not gone lost for nothing.

It’s true that I remark somehow that there are many people who start getting interested in my project, intuitively, because they’re horribly bored in their offices and every day’s life organization, but it is still a fairy tale, somehow, a game of intelligence: we are going to knock out super star Sask of the Israeli Intelligence and people are very happy with such a perspective.

Logically I will go to Jerusalem, thing marking our definite success, our symbolic victory, and I will have to start learning again to speak. We didn’t talk very much, then, and there were others who did. A sentence here, a sentence there, answers became situations that were embedded in reality as if the very context it happened to happen was wearing enough signs of intelligibility. Had I been asked then what we are up to, I would certainly have answered that everyone had his own business as if it were enough to point at the social reality in order to give a proper answer. It means that all the rest is said and understood in a very strange language whose codification is actually the same than the one of the stories told to Conchi during the path down.

As if you said that the last resources of life are a marvelous fairy tale attracting your attention where nothing else is of importance but this subjective relationship to the fairy tale, and understanding and logic, definitions and demonstration become paler and paler, irrelevant, insignificant, almost absurd in their lack of depth and all your existence starts turning around that, imposing paths, acts, reactions, interests. Apparently there were quite a lot leaning on the last resources of life if you judge through the high acceptance of the project and the enthusiastic participation of many to it.

I would say that our main activity is to steal systems intuitively: reactions, tones of voice, signals of all kind, psychic types, all this says indirectly how the technical system works and may help to find a way through.

Is the duel true? How difficult to say. We live inside of the imagination that it is so and when I will get there a third time, we have won and I will tell the story in such ways that it will clearly appear as if the duel had been, making the whole much more interesting and exciting. I will need around 5 years after in order to structure language again, a very specific language, leaning half on fairy tales and facts, as if insisting in the inherent truth of fairy tales through the use and misuse of facts, real situations and names.

I need to know more or less what the world is doing at upper social levels: finally ‘we’ had decided that the story involved spies and mafia bosses, bombs and possible wars, technical miracles and devastating pests and to get a perspective from where all this becomes visible enough, you need to get up to  a level where decisions are taken at international basis. A five stars hotel fits us well, in Jerusalem on top: the way people dress, move, talk, creates the actual proper environment that should finish by determining the language.

It’s very beautiful and that should be enough for the time being to pay me off for 15 years absence. I know my language and reality understanding is ‘strange’, reason why I don’t bother anyone with my stories. I actually don’t seem to be sure whether the neuron’s functioning will be completely healed: appears a very slight distortion to the possibility of obtaining a common reality apprehension but it doesn’t matter very much: a fairy tale does not need of precise and accurate reports and I haven’t lost the abstract theoretical ability. What I can’t do is to link my stories, my underlying reality configuration, to outer reality. I’m never sure whether my constructions are real or not, they seem to be linked somehow to something, but I don’t know how.

It doesn’t matter for my book. Hollywood makes up a lot of things, too, and does actually not care about how all that is actually and factually linked to reality. I’m building up an image, I’m inserting a fairy tale into reality, I’m trying to convince myself of the fact that I have not lost 15 years of my life inside of my original life plans. I wanted to clear up psychopathetic behaviour and analyze what happened during second world war inside of new metaphysics. All that is still there inside of my future novel. It’s true that I wanted to know, too, personally, what these strange communications lines were I knew from when I was a child and I’m horribly curious: a state of mind that is so near to death is fascinating and I will want to stay in it in order to study it the years to come.

And then. Yes. And then, is this true now or not?

The almost incredible cascade of happenings succeeding itself one day after the other there where I’m, now, with nothing that I could hold for factual proves in my hands but quite a lot of them in my own peculiar language, a murder, a crime, high treason, a real bomb, possible real spies, and a sniper on my back. Well.

I’m confused. I try putting all the elements together for myself, in order to know whether I have not done anything wrong and conclude very quickly one thing: if, for whatever reasons, my most imaginary fiscal asked me to say what I had witnessed, I would be strictly incapable of. A compound of intuitions, associations, fairy tales and stories of different nature and many proves in … gipsy language.

It’s true that if we hadn’t been working at the bomb and a high treason hypothesis, nothing would have ever happened. I guess it may be true and am hunted now on top because I intuitively react inside of a possible solution scheme we had been working at.

That is starting to make a second fairy tale, I go on thinking.

We were very serious. Actually, whenever we opened a hypothesis, let us say, implying a Russian spy, investigations were made in order to know exactly what the one may have looked like, how she/he was dressed, social environment, what she/he could eat, what the general compound of thought was, which variables were possible, in order to know how exactly the one would react inside of a given situation. And this implied that we were making up the most absurd hypothesis possible: the existence of mar men, the regeneration of neurons through thought, the transmission of information through electronic signals, the coming back from death of someone who had died 20 years ago, the structuring and ordering of hell, etc. Some things had finished by looking somehow true, yes. It was true that I wrote down these Hebrew words on my paper. But I had no general theory for that and it actually didn’t bother the feeling of possible reality inside of a story: flying carpets, marvelous lamps, super heros are the common food of those and the only innovation we had introduced was that we were attaching all that to ‘possible’ things inside of common reality. To say: the ‘marvelous’ was rationalized to the extent that, embedded inside of a determined context, it may appear as true. Or at least as possible. Fun arose from the crash of different logics producing the most absurd situations, following a little bit ‘Alice in wonderland’ strategy and at the end it was sure that ‘I’m Jerusalem’ belonged to Pakistan as title and the false pretenders had to die all together. I was the superhero representing whole lots of other superheros who had provided me with all sorts of magics to fullfill my task and this time, Enkidu would win his battle against high tech Gilgamesh.

Not that all hypothesis would be inserted into the story. We would choose a few of them, the most relevant of all.  We had been working at thousands of them.

And now? Reality is eating up my fairy tale. Won’t need to make up anything, I went on thinking, it all seems to be horribly true, somehow.

Yes. But what a horrible world we’re living in, finally. I mean, independently of my own destiny and my projects, is this ever, ever possible? No, señora, I say to the Spaniard, I haven’t done absolutely anything and I’m being hunted by a sniper for having jumped into a hypothesis and am possibly accused already of ten thousand suspicions just because they think I’m in  a situation of inferiority. Police is paid by mafia, forces are unsufficient, a bomb of unknown contents has escaped all control, spies walk around as if they were at home, is this supposed to be normal?

While psychiatrists ask themselves whether you can say it ‘compulsive’ if it happens 23 times or only 14, Schwartz, the bar man, is hunting psychopaths and while a crime is committed, highest chances exist Gazit will be accused of whatever just because she assumes a responsibility, there where she hasn’t seen anything at all. She hasn’t, the others have but they will say they didn’t  that day, the fiscal will finally really arrive.

May I know what is going on?

It’s not Jerusalem and it is not King David, it’s a general situation that is affecting King David and Jerusalem. Although I admit that intuitive reactions based on fairy tales are perhaps not a rational parameter, rational common parameters are lacking obviously all over. To which extent can you expect something of something? To which extent can you claim for it? I can’t expect the fiscal will ever understand how you hunt  a psychopath: actual main matter of my studies, it has no theoretical background yet. You can’t expect it even of a psychiatrist: their background is another.

Can I expect a fiscal may not be mislead by a false accusation, a suspicion, an ‘intuition’, even a false self accusation? I should. Can I expect the police is not paid by mafia? I should. Can I expect I will not be hunted by a sniper if I’m peacefully working at writing a novel? I should.

What in my behaviour can still be said ‘normal’, not excessively determined by unknown criteria and what in the general common behaviour is starting to really fall into irrationality?

I don’t know.

Why does the fact the German agent dies, heal my liver? Not my liver, my fright and thus my liver. My fright derives of the fact that something has happened that has put my life in danger. The agent dying I grasp the logic of the attack and can build up a defense for it. It protects me and my liver and I feel well.

I’m ‘diffusing’ reality because I know there are things I can’t fight against. There are things it is better not to know because you can’t change them. I introduce criteria of deviation in order not to be confronted to the consciousness of what derives of my knowledge. It’s not that ‘the dog’s shadow’ may ever attack me again. It is that a grave psychopath in what I call a Baldwin logic, has influence enough so as to move the whole French intelligence to an absurd attack for not justified personal reasons. See, the guy, I don’t care a shit about who you pretend to be and as things are, I would rather shut up. If you’re an idiot you’re an idiot and if you’re a beggar you’re a beggar. It’s like that and you better assume for everyone’s  well being.

If it has happened at that moment it means that this factor of irrationality has acceptance as possibility inside of French Intelligence. What do you conclude: the Moscow Opera attack was planed by France, Ruanda massacres derive of that kind of logic, Middle Orients are an immediate target, etc. Are you going to live in the awareness of that? No.

It’s true that most people would perhaps have never concluded such but they have little to do with logic: the mechanism, the logic that is behind one and the other event is exactly the same. I’m an expert in essential logics, it’s like that, although I share my wisdom with very few.

If I want to explain to the fiscal what I have seen and carefully put the correct names behind each thing: this was an intuition, this was a fact, this was a construction, this was a coded message, this was a conclusion, I will have to go to France, deliberately as they killed deliberately, for a personal revenge as they acted moved by it, with the finality of ridiculizing them, because this is what they intended. The attack on neurons finishes by provoking irrational behaviour, incapability of social contact, impossibility to work, and then: a beggar myself making my intelligence be ridiculized by the world? Ha, ha. So funny, the guy.

A revenge based on nothing and wanting to make prevail a pretended privileged situations as means to assure ‘that he was so powerful and had already warned then’. Does this imply Conchi has to pay you  a trip? Does she owe you anything? If the situation is thus that this worm can push things that far, betta be careful.

X’ logic is the same ruling on terroristic attacks in Balcans. It’s different. It’s groups ordered to serve purposes, demonstrations of power, political structures. The French logic is just ‘put shit to sell weapons’. It’s obvious. And obvious then, that even if organized by France, the Moscow attack shows different elements: X has fused with French Intelligence at a certain number of levels.

The Twin Tower attack. The 11 Mars attack in Spain (Muslims that are acting under the cover of ETA). What are the new elements? Pretending to be inside of a diffuse cloud of political lack of foundation. Federman is behind the Twin Tower attack because she is furious they have thrown her out of the USA.  Mafia has entered the circles of German and French Intelligence.

Such a beauty. However coherent my conclusions already in Greece, I’m not going to put that as reality perspective to my consciousness. I’m writing a book, I don’t care about anything of all that, if we manage to push a terrorist to suicide, the best and better, but that’s parts of the fairy tale.

I have to go to France if I want to explain theoretically to the fiscal what I see of the situation. Not that it will ever happen, I guess, but I think it social responsibility to be at least able to make out of a horrible fuzz a coherent story the fiscal may understand, just in case she would ever ask for my opinion.

What I see, is that if Angers falls, I won’t be afraid anymore of what I see. Goliath has just fallen thanks to one sole stone. The rat has been eaten up by the booted cat. The fact that the accident concerning the German agent has happened is opening new, incredible perspectives. I may perhaps be able to have coffee with the fiscal in the future, thing that makes me feel much better: I recover thus my social person, I had lost for many, many years. Inside of this possibility exactly.

If I can say that we, the 7 magnificient, are moving innocently inside of a black magic logic, I can say, too, that there are who are using this same logic for their own purposes, deliberately and wickedly. As we are not ‘normal’, we are quite isolated, easy target for whatever agression. On the other hand, we are the only ones to understand the mechanism of this logic and may actively fight against it. Our integration into a normal social body will be extremely helpful: it’s obvious that we obtain an incredible support of population that is fed up with the constant violence, irresponsibility deriving, arbitrary attacks, situation of general instability, etc. If we look ‘normal’, we are not strange elements you have to take care of anymore. Perhaps, we may even talk to a fiscal, who, as things are, will run away the very moment she will see one of us. Actually she will most probably associate us to the ‘enemies’: the shadows, the formal patterns are the same and it is something you should never forget. I mean, before terrorizing fiscals.

My imaginary conversation with the fiscal has put things there where they are. As I’m studying Gazit very carefully, by the way, I have an average idea of what common sens is, too. Figure out the world was made such that I may have a conversation with the fiscal. I can, how peculiar, immediately make the difference between what is a hypothesis, a reality, a construction, a keeping appearance, a symbol, a fairy tale, a subjective perspective, an objective fact, an intervention on personal basis, etc.

The fact of being subjectively convinced of the fact the fiscal will laugh at Gazit’s pretension to take all responsibility on her by asking “how was the body dressed?” and point wickedly with a finger at her saying ‘you should never pretend to more than what you are’, letting her go and bursting out laughing a little later, makes it possible to think a Samson strategy.

Perhaps it is not true and such a fiscal does not exist, but to think this possibility allows a very, very clear evaluation of the situation. And this evaluation exists, is real and a very nice perspective. I feel much better there than thinking I will stay forever in my half in fairy tales bathing logic with attaching points to reality through accidental use of names, facts and situations.

Inside of this perspective the evidence arising is that it is all true. Not what I say here because I had said to Gazit that no scandal would touch King David, although everything would take place there because it was easier to construct a plot, and in any case it fitted the ambiance and would make good publicity at the end. Even the possibility of reading electronic signals.

I’m no doctor and don’t know how: we use to work in approximate notions using words that are not very well defined. It drives you mad, certainly, in normal cases. I’m used to transform inner movements in words from when I’m very young: these ‘interferences’ become readable signals. No joke. I’m a super woman thanks to you, la France.

Am I thinking right? If a mushroom that poisons a liver in a German strategy, gets in contact with a plant’s milk destroying neurons inside of a French deliberate plan, and is surrounded by sheeps milk haven eaten another milk containing plant, then the poison becomes a ‘something’ that is ejected by the body while your neurons start capturing electronic signals.

If the German strategy gets in contact with France’s deliberate plan, without sheep’s milk, it will rotten two nations.

Is it correct? I’m working at levels of body. They are working at levels of intelligence, upper lines, logics. If the German logic gets in contact with the French one, you have a poisoned liver that produces a miracle in this that it is healed and completely destroyed neurons, which, without milk, attracts the broken light, producing a rottening of cells of the dorsal spine.

It looks horribly true inside of my evaluation table. A miracle gives you the feeling you’re superman, destroyed neurons put an end to whatever ordered social organization and in the meantime whole millions of population are rottening without solution, if and only if, they have carefully followed my indications (?)

Clotilde (French) and Jorge (German) got married in 1997 (?). I told them not to leave for France as they had promised. They leave in 1998. The logical structure that has healed the liver in bombed up neurons without milk has just become a reference and model for deepest love in … France.

How many chances are there the illness called sipsi may not exist? I don’t know, nobody would ever accept this as scientific explanation. Me, neither.

Why does my personal destiny become so easily a general destiny, I go on thinking, it should be impossible.

To say that the poison, a new one resulting of the interaction of both, in interaction with that sheep’s milk produces a ‘matter’ that is ejected by the body, and if this is not done, it introduces itself into neurons and attracts the broken light, that rottens neurons.

I’m moving inside of my logic. To  Germany (X) in France (virtual) I get out to the surface … Federman. I have not been yet to France and will get Federman out to the surface a little later.

Two logics, a physical reaction and a more ‘intellectual’ combination of elements, meet in the accident that has killed ‘X’. What links one poison to the other is the how they affect outer reality. If a affects A this way and b affects A that way, then a is linked to b through the way they affect A.

We still don’t have milk, but we have Federman. X is dead, Anger may fall, and this puts an end to international terrorism if on top Sask makes a war that establishes the rules.

There is no milk and the only thing we may pretend is to put an end to international terrorism. They will be wanting milk on top. Who has killed my sheep? Reclamadle a Cascorro, ahora, I say, because in any case, even if I were not angry, there is no milk.

My fiscal is an imagination, a reassuring one. If there is identity of the 7 magnificent, I see, for me, that Angers falls. Perhaps the fiscal isn’t, but my conclusions are. Perhaps the seven don’t have identity, but they will affect reality in my way of ordering reality inside of this thought.

No, they are not producing a chemistry that combines a miracle with the distruction of neurons, they are transmitting this logic as love dream, it is affecting grammatical structures, esthetics, organizations, politics, it is affecting the fundamental structures of organization of reality and this is attracting the broken light anyhow and on top is furthering chemical combinations that look ‘pleasing’ inside of that structure.

I didn’t tell you to go back to France and here, here there is milk.

Ti na kanoume tora (What else can we do), I tell myself, you can’t do more than what you can do and it is true that to put an end to international terrorism is the only thing we can do, now. If these constant interferences stop, perhaps we may find a solution for sipsi, too.

I have studied Angers and have always allowed to the ‘shadow of a dog’ to come whenever he was in trouble, as usual. The other one who comes often is the representative of Federman, or of the residuum I have to get rid of, IR. IR is there before I can launch an overall attack on GL. I see Federman before I will be able to attack Angers, but Federman will be put an end to, after.

In this incredible logic that looks to me as reassuring as the fiscal, I will heal myself completely and I may presume that if this mental retarded are copying logics I’m wickedly getting rid of, perhaps one or the other will do the same with mine. Sask, Natasha, Li. There are chances we get rid of international terrorism and I will have coffee with the fiscal.

Well, don’t forget the book, that has obtained an extension and will look the following way: I will write articles on subjects trying to put together my thoughts inside of Gazits common sens and wanting to explain to the fiscal what has happened in Anger and one day I will try putting them together. It will appear that Sask has put me into prison and I will remember that I wanted to write the story of how we went down to Jerusalem. Remembering that and writing it down, I will remember the conquest to Jerusalem and put the ban in internet, without yet evaluating very well its meaning myself. Thus, follows the second trip to Jerusalem in 1995. And there is a gap and I have to order my thoughts for the third part.

I start it but it is wrong.

It’s not the same if you go to Haifa than if you go to Tel Aviv.

Time passes. I don’t go to Haifa, I will go to Tel Aviv, por chulería, I say, I take even a plane back.

I transfer texts from the first ‘compound’ to the third part. In the meantime a war in Gaza has taken place. Sask is always late.

I can write the third part and must shift texts again, because Hannah doesn’t fit into the whole, and it will become to long. Shall I put Hannah now into the first part that has become the fourth?

No. I need a fifth part. The war of Gaza and an electronic explanation with me in a hypothetical prison follow the third and the  fifth should finally help me out to Cuenca, Ecuador.

It gives an image to what a shift or reversion in time is. 2009 follows 2003 and then there is a hypothesis and of that jumps out 2003/4 until 2008.

A marvel. A master piece. Don’t say no, Frau fiscal, it’s all I have to take a pleasure out of this chaotic situation.

Let’s put the Emperor into the fifth, too, I need time to think about it.

It must have appeared after the war in Gaza or in between but its meaning was diffuse. It must be there in internet like the ban ‘I’m Jerusalem’ and who knows what is going to happen again. It doesn’t matter, I feel better now.

I’ve made a few phone calls, said a lot of none sens, asked for money I’m offered after a while, I look poor, without resources, a little crazy, convincingly enough. If I have made a few mistakes in the general trouble they will all disappear under the cover of my new role.

Good. We still have to get out of here. I mean, I.

It’s August, the light is shining bright. I make a calculation and say that if they are controlling the plane tickets sales, under electronic control usually, they will not pay attention to  a ticket that is paid by a person abroad. I phone to my father who is sleeping and tell him I have to leave from here. He says, I shouldn’t worry, he will pay the ticket the day after. I go to a travel agency that is full. Much better. The man says that there is no place in flights to Madrid, not even through Athens. Well. It looks bad.

And then he asks whether I don’t mind when. And I say, not really. And he says, wait, perhaps I can do something. And there is a place in a flight through Athens to Madrid very late at night or early in the morning and I say, my father will pay and the phone call. Thus he phones to my father who pays with a card and I’m told to pick the ticket up in Tel Aviv.

A paradise.

Good. The man in the hotel is going to warn the police if I leave and I hope they don’t mind if I leave a bill of about 30 USD without payment. Punishment. What does it mean to such betray poor tourists to the police. As it is night, there is no one at the reception.

I prepare my luggage, walk down the staircase, go down to the main street and take a taxi.

When I arrive to Tel Aviv it must be about 10. A woman I ask where I can take my ticket from asks, ‘why so early?’. “Because there are no taxis later at night,” I answer.

I presume I have three days. The man of the hotel is going to warn the police, making a horrible fuzz, about three days later. It makes me arrive to Madrid, even through Athens.

I get my ticket and wait, outside, mainly, having coffee and smoking a cigarette. It’s obvious that I have not run out of resources if this is what they think, because I arrived with a taxi. My father’s name is not my name and comes from Spain. The hotel owner has not phoned.

As narrow as a wooden bridge upon the abyss.

A border control agent called Silverman says I can’t come back to Israel because I’ve staid three months beyond the actual visa permit. “It’s law?” I think. “Or you the judge?”

Psst. Federman has even infiltered border controls.

Although a toll agent looks a little bit puzzled by the overall presentation of my new cover, she finishes by giving in to the evidence that my plane will leave if she doesn’t let me go. There are so many things to look at and so many papers to go through, that she doesn’t have time enough to arrive to my secret.

In my pockets I have the Hand of Fatima handed over by Irit Gazit to me just before leaving. The keys to the town of Jerusalem.

“Be happy, Queen of Sabah, ‘I’m Jerusalem’ is yours’”

It’s not easy to become a shepherd and perhaps, among all I had already managed to learn were it because of need, were it out of pure curiosity, it had proved the most difficult of all. You need years to get there, when you have to compose a song of your own having necessarily to please at least someone.

After having learned about herbs and animals, illnesses and how to heal them, you have to find a way to heal an animal nobody knew of before. You have to know what to do with products, steal secrets, keep secrets, establish fair relationship with other shepherds, keep your territory intelligently enough (I had managed to convince Halil of the fact that he was invading my territory, although he was keeping Madimlis, a villager’s goats, thing he had to pay for with many other receipts and secrets and services) and at the end, when you save lambs that have staid in a mother’s belly that has lost the water (?), were it with the indefinite help of the goat master Gianis, a neighbour, you’re allowed to sing a song.

Shepherds usually don’t talk to those who keep goats because they are thought of lower class, the ‘go easy’ family without too much brain. While digging out secrets and traditions that had been buried in memory, we had decided to introduce a few changes, were it only because Tula, the grand master, had so radically separated goats from sheep that the ‘evil’ looked really at the edges of death every day she got angry and the ‘good’ had become so ethereal that they seemed to touch heavens with their fingers. We decided thus to form a tribe apart: not having a specific name it grouped all sorts of lonely shepherds and goat owners of the whereabouts.

I had learned to speak the sheep’s language and even goat’s, I said. Although a woolf came and ate up one of a carelessly strolling around smaller sheep. Stars were falling from heaven and left long silver lines upon the darkness.

When time had come to make up a song, my sheep showed the smallest mortality percentage on lambs (1 out of twenty at birth, the highest risk moment) and a 4.2 fat on one kilo milk. The best of the region.

My song allowed then to obtain a ‘krana’, a stock made of special wood, a very hard, rare wood you had to burn for it to loose humidity and be kept in time. I had so very well convinced Giannis of the fact that goat owners belonged to a second rank, that he was the one who listened to my song and he went then to find my stock.

My song was no marvel and not very long but it was already quite beautiful. It said: “Exo enan pono stin psuxi kai den ksero pos tha bgei, Exo enan pono stin psuxi kai den ksero pios tha to pi.” (There is such pain in my soul I don’t how it will leave, There is such pain in my soul and I don’t know who’ll give it words.) I had even found the music for it without copying.

(It was the day the laboratory results arrived from Serres, even Madimlis, who had around 700 goats, gave in to the evidence: goats don’t give more that a 2% fat on a kilo milk and even if a goat produces up to 3 kilo milk  a day while sheep produce 1, obviously, my sheep allowed to get more cheese. That gives more money on sales. If you know how to make it.)

You even had to learn to kill a lamb and how to dry up skins.

The day Giannis brought the ‘krana’ I knew I had become chief of shepherds of my aleatory tribe and went to burn the stock. It was that day I discovered something was going wrong with my eye. I didn’t see the fire leaving to my right and when I did, it was far too late. Perhaps I just wanted to tell firemen I had just obtained my title and in any case, I went to Turkey in order to get the chemistry to heal fire injuries traditionally and not known in Greece and brought in back. Should they be duely rewarded for their effort to switch off the fire that almost reached the village because of an unlucky wind.

Shepherds know to read signs, too. In fact, it is incredible how many things they know. Of all, perhaps the most difficult thing to learn inside of the already not easy process was a secret only Tzarakatzan mastered and which had already almost disappeared: the use of passive psychopathetic lines in order to tele guide someone of the family who was in highest danger. Those, the ones who knew this secret were called ‘tselingas’ and upper chiefs of tribe. I knew it was like that as Tula had tele guided me through Skopje until I found ‘her’ mountain but it seemed quite difficult to copy the logic.

I saw a sheep while walking down to David’s Tower and knew it had died, thing I was confirmed after. It was my father’s sheep, Joel: my inheritance, I had said, while asking him then to contribute to the acquisition of a small herd. “Have even learned the notion of sacrifice,” I thought then, “and there must be heavens for sheep, too, here, among the notes of my song.” Sheep don’t leave the earth. They stay somewhere between you and your soul, when they die. Sheep may give away their soul for others and thus it seemed as if they knew my father would die and then, wouldn’t die finally.

It’s true that shepherds are not allowed to leave their sheep, but already then when I was learning even about songs in order to be ready that day to come in the far future, I had told them a song about a shepherd who had to leave to town and even if I didn’t want to leave anymore at the end, they didn’t make lambs that year. The only reason a shepherd is allowed to leave his sheep for is to revenge his sheep and they had decided so. On top, before the herd was made, it had been said that a strange phenomenon in time would happen at the end, and only very specific lambs were allowed to participate to the adventure of teaching a human what a sheep was.

Sofonias did even understand its name and there were many sheep laughing around the world because they said there was a sheep that had fallen in love with a human.

That day, leopard had come.

Submit, you people.

Even Li had submitted to a higher God. Image is to wisdom what the Emperor is to the wisdom of the people that is said in Shaolin. If the Emperor makes a prophecy mislead by Shaolin who is leaning on foreign wisdom, China dies. Until it understands why.

Two monks are walking behind the Emperor because they come before.

Li had submitted to Identity in the image given to the wisdom of his people.

Tula, we’ve managed to reach our goal. China is alive. They can master now the movements of their soul  and if they decide to say their anger, they will in wisdom that will still astonish the world. Tula’s 200 million soldiers were carefully put under the Emperor’s command. How angry they must have been. Because they were saying it through the realms of death.

“For what is of me, I can’t see any other God,” Li had said. “There you are, that even without seeing you submit to it.”

Li was a business man, officially and I, I was writing a book.

Leopard was laughing as usual and I told him he should stop laughing as it was a very serious day: I had rather understood everything. He sat down to learn about it all, although he was not sitting there beside.

“Look at this,” I said. “I was given poison that should poison my liver by German hands. Accidentally I was given another poison by French hands that healed the first poison and distroyed neurons and this was healed by the milk of sheep that have eaten the herb’s milk. Now. Yesterday there was another accident, and the one who had planed my death, died. The German one. The one in Skopje.

See. I didn’t plan anything. I just went somewhere and probably caught someone’s attention who made an investigation and discovered something was wrong and the other ran away and was shot, while (I continued) trying to escape a bullett. That’s what it looks like. The liver is healed when the accident becomes essential. Her death was essential to me: and through an accident I’m participating to, she dies. The liver gets healed when the accident is essential.

In order to have the accident become essential, your neurons must be bombed up, as such twist in thought is difficult to obtain with healthy neurons. While your liver is repaired, you live in a world where the accident is essential, in a fairy tale that is somehow linked to reality. Why does the milk of the herb (galakschida) eaten up by sheep, finish by healing your neurons?”

And leopard said that the three has become one because your body is powder and milk is your soul.

More or less, I said a little bit puzzled, yes, I mean, in my language I would say it otherwise.

If the black magic has three elements, then you can say, that f towards f with m in the middle, is given an image in f (poisoned liver) towards f (poisoned neurons) in the transfer of m to the body that is the image and innocence in soul that heals a logic, as logic is not of body but of soul. The milk inside of this is the logic allowing to get out of the magics and a healed soul, heals the body.

How do you heal yourself? I have to do something with my hands that affirms an identity saying the pain of my soul. I am then in the world as I’m and this, as it is identity, cuts the lines that are linking me to others in an ill logic.

“You have a great master,” Leopard said, “the one who has made dust of your body.”

We didn’t know why our pain was many’s pain, but it was like that and had to be said like that. Hannah didn’t know what her task was. Her job: what she had to do with her hands.

Diligently participating to the conversation was Elvia, who said, yes, and these people speak quichua because v in A and f in B thus v* in A and v in B = v. I turned my eyes and said, “That’s what killed Hannah, and I will have a look at it after. Can I come to see you?” And she said, yes.

“Your task, Hannah, is to get back home.” (If I find the murder, first, I didn’t say, but otherwise you’ll be killed again.)

I decided that I had already enough for the third part of my novel and that I wouldn’t include Hannah’s story inside of it but would refer to it in a fourth part I had just made up, because, I said: “It’s like Harry Potter and at the end people can’t get enough of it.” Actually the third part intended only to distroy the black magic inside of a general image including a possible conquest of Jerusalem by Pakistani and although it was true that the conquest was becoming more than real according to reactions as I could perceive them, (people can’t live without fairy tales, really), there must be given a space to close the circle and this would include many other stories. Actually, the revenge of the Queen of Sabah should walk down to ‘Firework in Amaretto’ whose inconsistency had already become obvious and this would oblige me to make many arrangements. On top, there was the whole story of Elvia and quichua, too, and Ecuador and the song and there was simply no space left in the third part.

I was very proud of Tula. “While fighting against the illness, those who say the illness become enemies who you fight against and when they die, you’re healed.”

In fact I was very proud of Sask, too, although I had finally concluded that the bomb was really much more dangerous than I had thought of first. The first bomb must have had a system of absorption of atomic energy that finished by exploding in such wicked ways that it may cause the death of millions.

It happens when you build up imaginary Sasks that your ideal finishes by looking as reliable as the real one.

Imagine you have a crossed black magic forming a knot among people in a triple logic. It goes sometimes from Spain to Russia, from France to Israel, from China to Greece, or from China to Russia, from France to Spain, etc. Giving the feeling of essential relationships (we all became Muslims after a while or said, in fact, the only difference between a Muslim and a Christian is that the Muslim takes for wifes at a time and the Christian one after the other) it had simply no moral justification at all and was bombing up the foundation of the stability of relationships in time.

In 1996 I submitted the gang to the absolute need of doing as if one and only was the essential one and fight against all attempt shifts may occur. As this was rather not possible such as things were, actually I quite precarious balance was built up: Li was married to a mirror image of Ines de la Fressange, I was married to an ideal Sask and was keeping Natasha while Hannah found her task, and Tula, who staid alone, was finally married to Heleni, who was found a few years later.

It didn’t matter who was who, as actually nobody would get married to anyone, and the couple m to f were kept because of Hannah’s intelligent idea to associate the third element to oneself. Thus Hannah was the ‘x’ in between, too, a very heroic and courageous male. I had adopted her solution while keeping a slight difference: my ‘x’ was my body and appearance, while I was neutrally staying in thought. Just in case.  Sask and Ines de la Fressange got married to an ‘x’, and Li was x hold by lines in wings m m, shaolin. As Natasha only saw horrible male shadows all over, an ‘x’ appearing in whatever smelled man, she couldn’t even stand Hannah and I built a cover in a false Hannah who wasn’t such a brute anymore, who was Natasha’s x, very far away.

Actually (Leopard looked in surprise at my scheme), it’s generating an erotic tension in ff and mm lines. Exact, that’s what seems to be happening, final reason for Lazares’ coming back from death, perhaps.

“And thus,” Leopard continued, “there are two realities. Sask is not the real Sask but it’s true because it’s moving as logic and thus for Hannah and for all of you. And how do you know in these poles who is the male and who the female?” “Precisely, I don’t know yet. For the time being it’s moving from one to the other depending on needs.”

“Yes. We’ll see. If Sask is married, the element that is there is attracting an enormous disgrace. It is covered by Sask’s reliability, is in fact furious and is the one who has covered Federman’s presence here. The second part of the bomb is possibly causing a most general disaster.” “And this?” “Because Sask is not moving in ff lines but in mm lines. My mistake. Will have to play the homosexual man now, such fun.”

And I turned my head and laughed and said: “It’s always your fault, universally. Whatever happens.”

If souls moves in wings, it had been not been given permission yet for the wings to generate erotic tension. There are two wings to each side and the middle covered by two wings, too. Six wings. The wings to the right are good and those to the left, are bad. (The good and the bad thieves.) As the wings have no erotic tension they convert sexual impulses into a path,  a teaching, an object saying what is of love in spiritual realms because for them, it is not attached to flesh. And this should bring back the Grand master.

But the bad wings get tempted by flesh and the human looses inner finality. What happens if they enter the good wings the day they’ll stay without resources? We loose erotic tension. We’ve lost our path. And what happens if the bad wings are inside of the good wings without wings in the middle? It makes a horrible bomb. An image of the end of the world.”

“You very much love the end of the world,” Leopard said. “It’s just an image,” I answered, “and there are two of them.” “And how are you going to avoid the first one,” Leopard asked, “as, may I add, this is rather not an image for me?” “Well. She’ll have to get a divorce, with or without scandal. And then you have to push Leya into the other side.” “Ah,” Leopard continued, “because she’s a boy.” “A geysha?” “I don’t know.” “Well, yes, something like that. She will change the nature of the bomb, and the second part is not going to be poisoned anymore but, well, I don’t know, I wouldn’t say specifically innocent, but at least not that dangerous.” “And why would she be wanting to change such a dangerous bomb for a less dangerous one?” “Because this bomb may explode in interaction with salt or cadmium every day in her own nose. That’s why.” “With France?” “Yes. And there is salt already.”

“And Federman?” The fiscal interfered in the conversation without anyone’s permission. “Federman is dead. The German x is dead. If Sask changes Rafael for Leya, she looses all lines of contact. Easily: Sask is army, Leya belongs to the underworld. Both together will take over the state, as police has been bought up by Federman.” “A coup d’Etat?” “Yes… I mean, nobody will ever give that name to it. Factually, a coup d’Etat.” And I continued: “There is no legal interaction between Sask and Leya possible, thus Sask will not cover anyone. Leya will stay in the underworld and Sask will continue her bomb.” “You mean that the fact of getting married to someone whithout love is ‘illegal’?” “Yes. From an absolute point of view. And the giving honor and respect to that is making that the underworld enters upper realms. And this is why Sask is building a bomb that is nothing but  a most exact image of that horror you can admire from this window, too: 200 murders and all mafia of the world under one sole roof. A marriage without love is necrophilia, Solovjev had said.”

Leopard staid back: “The bomb is going to become a tactic bomb without danger for those who have it.” “Yes,” I said, “and you, you will fall in love.” He burst out laughing. “I won’t,” he said. “Don’t trust the devil.” “Because,” (he had gone lost in thoughts) they are together but they are not together and this stabilizes both parts of the bomb.”

“It won’t make her happy,” Leopard continued, much more interested in the love story than in the bomb. “No. But for the time being it avoids a disaster.” “You should take Leya’s place.” “I? Never in the world. Have not enough with what I have, to take care of this unbearable person on top.” “But you have a better bomb.” “We’re nice boys, Leopard, we will make business.” “Business?” “Yes, business is no love affair. I give you back your bomb if you make a war.” “A war?” “Yes. I need to give a positive end to my novel, otherwise it will really look as if I had made up everything.” “I don’t want to gossip, but Sask is really furious because you say you’re going to conquer Jerusalem and doesn’t trust you a second.” “Well, and what has my war to do with a conquest made by Pakistan?”

“It’s really a nice bomb,” Leopard said. “And why should she take it?” “Because it is the truth of what has happened inside of the possibility of a solution: ff lines (Moses) have gone fused with mm lines (Yoshue) and you have to put something in between in order to separate them. What you put in between is a war that moves inside of a six wings logic, a fact, a reality, and when you have a look at it, clearly you can see what there is and patterns of thought are ordered in separated wings.” “That is really wicked,” Leopard said. “You will win the war.” “She will win the war, say, if she listens to my advice.”

Sask asked whether she would win the war and Leopard said she would win the war if she followed my advice and gave the scheme of the bomb to her and answered to the question what the advice was, “This.” It looked evident enough to Sask, and she agreed.

(War of Gaza, January 2009.)

Finally even the fiscal agreed on that, that Leya really but really looked like a boy, too. “What means, too? Like Leopard?” “But we have a national betrayer who is happily running around without a possible intervention, and that will need of a few hours of meditation, too.” “In any case,” Gazit continued, “I wouldn’t mind a coup d’etat if things are like that and it clearly, really clearly shows it could lead to a solution this way.” The fiscal looked really happy that day and meant that an end would be put to the national betrayer by putting the one into prison because the owner of the hotel would warn when I would leave.

It was that day that Gazit made a comment to the fiscal, that looked like a complaint and said that their electronic communication was constantly cut by An. “What is An?” the fiscal said. “My anger,” I answered, and this really puzzled the fiscal.

“Your anger?” And she turned her head. “Yes. A town in France, Anger.”

Ha.

Why did Ribbentrop go to Israel? Because she had a cyrrosis and wanted to contact Federman and thus the OTM to get a new liver in Rumania. She had obtained her location through a list she had obtained from the Foundation Onassis. She must have left Skopje more or less the same time than me. She had a cyrrosis that had been provoked by constant invitations by the surrounding populations to drink slivo and she could always drink a few more than the others. In less than 10 years her liver was bombed up and she, not me, was searching for a new liver. ‘The way you kill, that way you die.’ (Urdu)

And she had to find a place to stay just getting to Ein Kareim?

That’s none of my concern, now. She had a cyrrosis and I was healed by an accident that killed her. And thus, you can bomb up France’s neurons just by following the same logic: because France has healed the liver and the killer is dead.

And for all who may have backed Ribbentrop’s intention, shall they die the same way or another.

And Gazit is complaining because there are interferences in electronic communications: neurons are nothing but electronic communications. How interesting.

I told Gazit that day that I may perhaps solve the problem. “But,” I continued, “They will close me into a psychiatric hospital if it works.” “Not in a prison?” “No. You can’t put someone into prison for an accident. But they are mad and they will say I made the accident and it is crazy, to provoke an accident, and thus I’m mad, – because they’re crazy, I mean.”

“You can?” the fiscal asked again without anyone’s permission. “I don’t know. It is possible. A mars woman who detects electronic signals, Minja’s intuitive logic of transfer to computer language, the structure of the accident that has been at the origin of Ribbentrop’s death … I. It should do it. … And I find the one who poisoned my neurons. Logically. More than logically. Anger is the central of French Intelligence. This chemistry was developped by French Intelligence. I know that it is there because the bastard who pretended he could ask me for a marriage (!), look at that, finished by telling me that his father had been an under cover agent in Africa, where he fished the worms from, probably, by the way, they lived in Anger and thus the one who has developped the chemistry must be in Angers, too. Le Figaro, sent in to Greece by Franck’s father, the brother of Gregory, every Tuesday and Thursday, published not so long ago, that a special monad for electronic crimes had been opened in Angers. The electronic headquarters of French Intelligence are in Angers.”

They are silly, I went on thinking. They are really silly. They have even published how the electronic system of defense of Legifrance works, in Le Figaro. In Le Figaro, look at that and saying: that even the most perfect system of defense (a regenerating system) will find someone who will break it. And that Dutch had already developped electronic subguns in order to try defeating it, without success, until then. A challenge I gave in to, and half an hour later, Legifrance did not exist anymore.

“Is this enough?” Gazit asked innocently. “No,” I went on, “you need a reverter. Nothing you bring, nothing you take away with you, nothing you construct then because all intervention will be considerated deliberate.” “Then?”  “A stone. But don’t ask me too many questions, I won’t tell you all my secrets.” “Do you know about electronics?” “No. But we shepherds are very clever. I even have a ‘krana’,” I added very proudly as if this could be convincing enough.

I wasn’t searching for a cover and nobody would pay me again for such a peaceful intervention. I just needed someone who’d ask himself for a few months how it were possible a stone may put an end to the most powerful electronic system on earth.

Hm. Gazit asked for advice and a young man belonging to the electronic department was invited to the conversation, too, as if someone who had a ‘krana’ was reliable enough so as to move him to leave the headquarters for a while. Gazit who was the translator between the mars woman and the poor soldier who had never in his life been confronted to such an usual situation, asked whether I could give proves for my sayings and I said: “That this system has a warning system, so that if you change something on a text that has been copied of the web page, it provokes an attack on the hard disk. Le Figaro said. Well, a warning signal has a channel and then the attack happens through another channel. Probably a lazer control as it does not happen directly on the page or through it. Wouldn’t you say so? A warning signal has a channel and an attack signal has another channel. Now. You’re French. Just think for a little moment you are inside of a general logic that is able to poison someone’s neurons because, because it suspects it may have known too much of what happens inside of a hospital.

The channel that alerts and the channel of attack are the same. Because the suspicion has not been verified. If it is so and it must be so, what happens if you send another alert signal just while the attack is happening, by simply changing once again something you didn’t like on the simple word document? You’re sending 10 alerts signals and they are just sending one attack because the others have been blocked on the way up. Logically it’s going to push the attack back to the … hard disk. Where the regeneration system does not work anymore.

Black out. In shepherd’s language. When this will happen, are you going to believe a stone may destroy the most powerful electronic system in the world?”

He said, … “yes, if all that is true” and I laughed and said, “otro que se lo ha creido todo (another one who has believed everything)” and wouldn’t believe it myself, logically. “Are you going to do that,” the man said slowly. “If you take me out of the psychiatric hospital after,” I said. “I mean, not you. You find the means.”

But the hypothesis was starting to interest me. “I know someone there,” I said after a while, “I have nothing to do for the time being, I must find someone there and you see, slow revenge has its virtues, bastards can be very useful, sometimes, they can be at the origin of accidental accidents, too.” “You can get there?” “His brother has been staying at my place for a year and will finish his University year thanks to my efforts. It should make an exchange for at least three months.” And I turned myself and said “I have to change cover. Not a penny in my pockets, no friends, no acquaintances, already a little bit mad, in any case quite stupid and dull like a sheep, I will get inside.” “And how are you going to touch their system?” “Because they don’t know that electronic marks are kept after changing the system. I will even tell them and they won’t believe me. I just need to keep in the computer a piece of something that may be related to their system.” “And?” “They will never recover of the virus that will enter the main working system. Do you believe me?” “ … Yes …” “I don’t believe it myself and if it really happens I will be terrified for six months after. On top, they have no milk.” And I burst out laughing as if I had found the funniest association of ideas of the world.

Diamond. (I got lost in my contemplations.)

A poison attacking the liver has bridges of attachment to another affecting neurons, so that the liver is healed and you need milk in order to heal yourself. (There are underground agreements between Germany and France.)

One of the them has diamond powder, or the combination of both provokes a reaction that generates something like organic diamond powder. Or the combination of the three elements. ‘Crystals’ in my brain are reading ‘light’.

These people are completely crazy.

Yes, Gazit, I will go. I don’t believe that it works but I need to have a look at that. I hope it isn’t true but it may be that they are attracting the light from Andromeda.

You can’t attack a human because there is life in him. You attack the logic. A human may understand he is wrong and if he doesn’t, he dies. You have to put him in front of the choice, a real choice and if he makes the right one, the logic changes and he lives. You can’t kill a human.

Send a signal before shooting, Natasha. “If you see a dove upon his head, don’t shoot.” (She will shoot the Czeczenian chief February 2006)

Tula has put her 200 million soldiers under the orders of the image made by the Emperor.

I’m Jerusalem in the name of the Queen of Sabah and Sask will build up a bomb and make a war.

Hannah will find the way back. I will meet Li again, later.

It’s for sure that Ines de la Fressange will believe in the story of the Russian Prince.

7 planets are forming a line. 8. The eighth is a moon.

There will be a reversion in time.

Hollywood, you owe me a lot in intellectual rights. You even put Angelina Jolie into my movies.

The light, the light that is ill for us arriving from Andromeda has the same logic than our strange black magic combination in the depth of our unconscious. You believe now that wickedness can attract meteorites on Sodome and Gomorrhe? It can. And Tula believes we can fight against it. We have to move from this towards a reference of rational order. Whatever we do can’t be but a step forward, whatever. Move! Now.

Something between Germany and France is at the origin of it all. Could be the Vatican. Hm? Transubstantiation? I hadn’t dealt with that before.

Was there time before God made the Universe?

Light is driving us crazy.

Shield. Put the seven planets on line. And the moon.

Yes. It will make stones out of light. 7 stones and a moon.

Look. They are there. Meteorites are falling upon the sea in Gallicia and nobody takes care. It’s no meteorites, it’s light.

You see, Sask, how easy finally. You’ll become a stone and I, Natasha and Tula and Li, and even Hannah and Ines de La Fressange, and seven new stars will be born in the universe.

Identity that falls on what we do because it is saying it through the contrary of what is at the origin of our death. The erotical lines will disappear. We will be monads then. And after, perhaps, we will fall in love with someone outside: without ghosts in the middle.

I have to go to Angers. They will die all, otherwise and perhaps it is too late anyhow. For them.

It is of need to conceive a materialization of spirit (Istanbul 1993). Of a given spirit. Of the ill one. Of broken light.

I can’t do otherwise anyhow. I won’t get healed if I don’t do it and they will die anyhow. Point your bombs at France and Germany and Italy and don’t doubt throwing them if they start again wanting to play with … light. Cards, probably. Ask favours of the Emperor if it were of need, Tula, and you Natasha, kill those who have the light. And I, I will say these words to the world for them to get afraid and not to start again.

Es gibt Emperor.

It was starting to get very hot and people were dying in France under the heat wave. Temperatures were turning around 45° in the sun some days and even sprinkle water Perrier wouldn’t help to forget how hot it was.

Controls were little. Actually my documents were controlled twice at David tower, once in the park leading to the narrow street, once at King David and once in my room, late at night, for unknown reasons.

4 times after the visa had expired. Thing which didn’t bother anyone, at least I seemed to be who I was.

Soldiers were making exercises of formation in the park below and wearing old backpacks. A woman soldier visiting King David with a group, let a grenade fall on the ground. It didn’t explode, as if it had already assimilated its new identification as ‘divorce’ and the soldiers left.

If Saturdays were boring it was because there was no expresso and you were obliged to drink soluble coffee at Schwartz’, where the heavy ambiance reminding more a 2°clock at night escape of whatever kind of responsibility did rather not please my eyes. You couldn’t see the garden from there and I finished by asking whether it was not possible to transport my coffee to the lounge.

There was almost no personel on Saturdays.

That day I went to the terrace and changed the table I used to sit at for another, more to the left. The change implied a determined change in disposition that had to be underlined by a new table. Everything was going wrong and as I was used to universalize happenings as measure of security in Greece (if someone wearing sunglasses shows this disposition, then all wearing sunglasses will have this disposition until the contrary is proved), the perspective opened this way was rather ugly.

If I was not wrong, the very fact of so honestly having left a suitcase there where it was, had attracted the fury of someone who suspected I may know more than I should and already then I had a sniper on my back, two tons of gossip, a ‘serious’ advice at the police concerning my possible dangerous nature and a long list of approximate accusations concerning possible, virtual or imaginary crimes of all sorts. No way out.

That day I decided I wouldn’t leave my reality fall into the pit of such a perspective and made up a fiscal. My fiscal, a woman of about 45, – she had to be older than me in order to impose authority – and a woman because I rather had had enough with the samurai sword at the police. The poor woman hardly knew what the world looked like from my perspective, an enormous advantage and rather reassuring, and had to – another advantage of imaginary characters – listen carefully to my attempt to put an order into my thoughts through her perspective. I mean, the presence of someone conditions what you say and I needed to be conditioned convincingly enough by someone whose reality insight I would finish by believe in.

I thus presumed the person in question, who obtained no name and was shortly called ‘the fiscal’, would be rather suspicious on my presence even more so after having had a short look at the long list of accusations on a paper on her table.

I started saying that – I had to put an order into my thoughts – that there is complicity in the being in knowledge of a criminal act without reporting it to given authorities. Known as ‘encubrimiento’ if there is no participation it usually has ugly consequences.

I wouldn’t know, but actually I was sure, whether the fact of pretending to be in knowledge of a possible ‘high treason’ affair would make me responsible of anything, and consider: actually I don’t know who left the suitcase, second, I don’t know what it contains, and third, it could have been an accident. If the contents affected national security it affected the army and I didn’t know whether lately offices had been opened in order to report cases of possible afairs affecting national security.

In fact. My source of information has no support in rational elements. Nobody has told me anything, I haven’t got information through spy work, I didn’t fall accidentally on a whole lot of papers telling whatever. If you’re not going to believe that I’m making drawings in Greece of people who are there, I’m not going to believe it either. I mean, I know it is like that, but I know, too, that it is not a rational way to get information. Consequently my information is a ‘zero’ in your evaluation table because otherwise tomorrow someone is going to say that he had the intuition I was a murder and I will get a 30 years prison for that.

The fact I can’t rationalize my source of information does not imply that I may not start suspecting there is more about it than I wanted to believe in the beginning. It may not be true. I won’t make a fuzz about it. If accidentally and putting others and not me into an ‘illegal’ situation (through the listening to foreign conversations), I’m taken for a Russian spy and the transfer does not happen, the best for all. I haven’t done absolutely anything that could be considered as illegal and the gambling with a situation in the presumption of a possibility is not illegal either, as long as you don’t use illegal means.

In fact, the situation is built up in such ways that it seems to contain a solution: as the ‘daughter’ arrives I just have to look very suspicious again and it is possible that private measures of security are sharpened. A problem less.

For me, the problem has disappeared. From a certain point of view. Can it happen again? It’s none of my concern.

There are always different levels of reality. What I see, what I hear, what happens, what I understand, what I feel, what I have the intuition of, what I’m thinking. The way I link elements one to the other is hold in structures of reason. This with this and that makes a whole in identity that can be identified in a determined way.

I’m wrong. I’m tired, I’m getting into a Hollywood mood to write a novel and it seems to me that someone is trying to transfer valuable documents somewhere. It can be, and it happens so often. It does not imply it is true. Yes, there are Russian in the whereabouts, the poor, who can be there more or less with the same intentions than mine. What may link them to an information concerning the sales of bomb plans? Nothing.

My story, or drafts of the story I’m constructing in Greece (I just have what I call the ‘fossiles’, the underlying logical structures) could be related somehow to reality but if you use now rational parameters to link one to the other, there is nothing allowing doing so.

Not here. Not enough with Russian spies and bombs, I have a psychopath who has been payed to kill someone. Another ‘intuition’. Again, no rational proof. What? Am I going to say that I’m  a master of psychopathetic lines (what’s this?) and can point with the finger at whoever of my pleasure saying it is a psychopath? Psychopths are scurril because the logic they use are not ‘registered’ logics. Even if I said to someone: verify somehow, the possibilities for him to make a mistake are at the level of zero, then. He will just be warned. Techniques that are not illegal, again, learned from Chinese and other traditions allow to establish a ‘telepathetic’ contact with those people. Said bluntly, we are nothing but cables that contact somewhere and not anywhere else. A psychopath has ‘contact lines’ you just have to reproduce in order to attract him. You put yourself in the situation of a victim. Whatever happens then is in our societies a ‘sheer impossibility’. The man commits suicide? Is there induction? No, because there is no direct contact. You are not going to say now that your eyes are pushing someone to suicide because if it were like that, you’d have a never ending list of virtual crimes through induction whose verification becomes impossible.

It’s true that it may appear as induction from the point of view of our societies. In fact, it can’t even be considered that. How can you know that the ‘x’ receiving telepathetic signals is really ‘x’? I’m a possible victim. To a victim, the murder stands in a determined relationship. If you are the one who is wanting to kill me you are ‘x’. Is it the man with the tie, or the one with jeans? I don’t know. If you are identifying yourself as a possible murder then you deserve your death and you can do this only if you react to the relationship established between a victim and his murder. There is no induction technically, there is an association of an identity to a name having inherent a consequence he assumes.

Very well. Our psychopath is dead, I had to go there because the lines are very confused and need an identification in appearance and the danger is over. If the type is recognizing a type ‘Sask’ as possible victim and about 70% of the army is under control of Sask’s lines, this implies thousands of possible victims. Hypothetically. One problem less.

The study of psychopathetic lines is in fact my most essential passion. I studied work on psychology and/or psychiatry from when I was about 13, absorb information on these fields in Bogota, and arrive to the conclusion that psychology, inside of a frame of empirical science, will never grasp these phenomena. Studying philosophy, I start identifying human behaviour as ‘logical compound inside of a psychic type’ quite early and spend years in the study of logic, mathematics (theory of probability), philosophy of science and metaphysics. It could be possible, I conclude in 1992, if you reject the Kantian definition of form. More intuitively than anything else, I change the fourth years logics for aesthetics. Even if it were possible, it is necessary to introduce such an amount of changes inside of the definition of common concepts that nobody will ever understand what I mean. It must be possible to translate results into aesthetical coordinates in such ways that they become intuitively perceivable immediately. Better aesthetics than logics, then.

The stay in Lape Hospital in Istanbul is nothing but a way to get nearer to common psychic illness and try ‘codifying’ general logics. I will continue my work much later in Serres, Greece. Actually I don’t interfere with what doctors do, I use to play cards.

The idea to exchange heavy philosophical works for a novel full of spies arises quite late. I would say around 1999. It’s much easier to ‘see’ that a logic in Russia coded by what ‘it says’, decides to travel to Jerusalem because of ‘a’, that derives of the logic and meets in this general logic a someone, so that only if ‘I’ appear, there is an accident avoiding a disaster. Or the other way round. Thus, if type Sask is ruling, there are 7 characters that move more or less in the same logic and say similar things but a little bit differently. Intuitive definition of a main or ruling logic. It’s my interest that there are spies and mafia bosses, mass murders and bombs: it keeps the attention awoken and the logical structures hit lower parts of the unconscious. It’s much easier to reconstruct very weak communication lines that put barriers to psychopathetic behaviour.

I’m not fighting against France, which is actually the least of my concerns. When I say France I’m determining a logic that is dissolving psychopathetic communication lines in defense. As there is no determination of that logic, it is an undetermined mass affecting more or less those borders. It’s in Germany, too, in Russia and in China, in variables. Logics do never move the same way depending on general national characters. It’s like chemistry. The defined element ‘O’ does not interact the same way with ‘H’ or ‘He’, sometimes it catches ground and sometimes it doesn’t, it becomes green or red or blue, it explodes or becomes a gaz, etc. Depending on a general environment defined as ‘A’, ‘O’ will do this or that. English Romanticism is not German Romanticism and even less Spanish Romanticism.

For me, things are clear. This affects the realm of thought or psychic environments and that affects politics, social structures, whatever. Power structures I’ve never understood very well.

I put a personal question into my general studies. Happenings of second world war and the restablishment of relationships with Israel, hypothetically. (Intuitive definition of the general unconscious in its relationship to a moral attitude allowing to solve a ‘problem’.)

Things continue to be clear. I leave for Jerusalem, thing I need in order to get a clearer insight into the problem I’m studying, that is ‘why the quarrel, what the logic, why that logic of distruction, how the situation now, etc’. On top I need an absolute reference that seems not to be easy to obtain. I mean, I speak from one perspective even when talking in rational logical parameters. Exactly that one: rational logical. A 99.9 % of humanity does not even know hat it is. Is it possible to stay in such a perspective that may be understood by more people?

It’s true that I’m more than worried, as rational parameters seem to loose ground at incredible quickness. Personal engagement.

That’s my studies.

Personally, I would like to know what these bizarre communications were in my youth. Sask and Hannah and Li. It’s more a hobby than an object of studies where these characters seem to find little space.

And things start happening. The worse of all: it could be said that my quite abstract thoughts and worries are understood as political and are starting to provoke reactions that are affecting up to my life. Not to talk about my reputation, security, health, career possibilities, etc.

Very well. I have my project that has now become more than personal, thing implying that I’m not going to change a coma of my original projects and I’m going to hit back at the same level. Political? Well, what I understand under political. Artificially provoked war situation in Balkans and Middle Orients in order to sell weapons. Behind the evidence of international right, it starts becoming … political.

I will have to find a job in the meantime.

Where is the knot of the quarrel? If I wear jeans, others start wearing jeans and Anne Helene asks whether she may not wear jeans. Which is granted. But there are many wearing jeans in such a liberal environment where even Anne Helene is allowed not to wear jeans and this is understood as an aggression to Haute Couture. (?) I leave walking because I want to think about several matters and it is understood as an aggression against hotel’s interests if I’m asking for shelter every night. No, but there are no hotels here, rather almost never. No, but if I pay a hotel every night I will be paying, I don’t know, 60.000 dollars for a 6 months trip. Impossible, independently of your personal fortune: it’s not rational in the relation finality/costs. No, this is a personal trip and I don’t intend to make of it a universal destiny. “Do we now all have to do the same?” Pippa asks in Istanbul, receiving as answer perhaps the most puzzled expression on a face that can be possibly conceived. “All? Like that, as universal? You must have each your own destiny,” I finish by answering.

The actual quarrel is that I pretend that even finances are nothing but a way of thinking. You favour investment in new technologies: you favour fundamental logics and logics in interaction. Whether these logics are healthy or not is my stupid business, as I’m evaluating thought. I’m saying that these logics are unhealthy, for God’s sake, push them back, now, psychopathetic lines are entering upper realms, the barriers in consciousness are breaking, we will be invaded by ghosts in a few years if it continues like that. It’s not favouring our interests. They say. What, t is of your interest to submerge your societies in ghosts and devils? Well. Perhaps. It’s a point of view or a universal truth again? Maybe there are others who don’t agree with you. Ah, no, they have to think like us? This, mes chers, is an attempt against human’s freedom and sovereignty of states.

I’m fighting against a factual dictatorship whose extension is difficult to evaluate.

In philosophical terms this dictatorship says itself in terms of formalism versus what I would call synthesism. Do you really want that it becomes political? Ok. I don’t mind. They have already been poisoned twice and I still don’t know what I may have done in order to provoke such reaction. Wickedly, on top: attack through family member implies rupture in confidence to family. Attack through doctor, implies rupture in confidence to whatever linked to medecine. Because I know ‘they’ have broken these lines and if it has happened once it may happen twice. I have been attacked by banks, as they have charged me with an amount that had been stolen from a declared as stolen visa card, too and by hotels, whose managers say we’re miserable beggars, worthless gipsies, it’s so easy to open one’s mouth, finally. Haute Couture esteems we have no representing image. The Catholic Church feels attacked because we seem to attract much more than boring priests and monks and yes (?) perhaps we know too much.

The perspective. While leaving Istanbul, I ask myself whether there is place to live for me in a fairy tale. It’s that? It looks as if they were hitting all together my identity as person. I’m not breaking law, I shout around, and I wear jeans if I damn like it, and there is law and you don’t have the right to charge me with that stolen money and, and, and … If I give in once, they’ll break my psychic resistence and my carefully build up identity will disappear in ashes. It’s not that I want to get up the scales, on the contrary, I adore my little hut in the desert where nobody knows what I’m doing and where you may have a coffee with someone around. If I manage to write my book, the better. If I become very famous ( a horrible thought) I’ll have to learn to deal with it. I’m happy: I’m who I’m and do what I want inside of generally given rules. I’m ill, yes. But what a challenge: am I not going to slash you with your own poison, at the end.

That’s what I’m. I do my job, I do my own job, I have my hobbies and amusements and entertainments and, ah, yes, I wear jeans. In the meantime I have Athens on my back, too, the Foundation, Giorgos Papandreu, chemistry holdings that feel attacked by my natural environment, pharmaceutical holdings, Barilla in Italy, and the French government esteeming that my engagement in the defense of international law and freedom of speech (Kosovo war) is the definite sign for the fact I’ve entered a terroristic organization. (I’ve sent a few articles to major newspapers in France.) A little after Milosevic partisans are forbidden of entry in France, thing I don’ care very much as I don’t understand what international law may possibly have to do with a Milosevic friend, or perhaps it is the same depending on perspective and if I just defend international right, I’m not a Milosevic partisan. It’s obvious.

I’m still very happy with myself and esteem that I have made no use of illegal means to distribute my wisdom and people are free to believe whatever they want.

The situation has provoked a cut from family members I esteem may be at risk if I get too near and from friends or acquaintances who may all of a sudden be confronted to liver poisoning mushrooms or other Delikatessen of French or German invention. A double cover builds up a careful image where I’m distractedly keeping sheep in a forlorn village in Macedonia, in order not to attract attention as I know information as I transmit it accidentally to one, will soon reach the … State Department. I laugh. Well, perhaps not the State Department.

Honestly, Shiri, imagine what happens if they think I’m dead and come back one day with superman’s powers making the difference between circons and diamonds.

In order to avoid people in my environment not to be agressed I keep emotional balances by ‘talking’ to ‘types’. I won’t get mad by getting lost in the I of myself, no: this thought arises from a psychic type like Hannah, that one from Li and that one from Shiri, logically. There are objections and answers, requests, moments, errors and mistakes, tilts, someone shouts around, now, keep calm Sask, it really didn’t mean that, and my sheep listen carefully to my deepest lucubrations they seem to participate to. My abstract way of thinking is broken, I state very proudly, now there are no universal statements anymore but characters, logics, people in social environments that establish some kind of contact to me or others.

I’m still very happy as things seem to move towards the right direction whose exact character (of the direction) I can’t define very well.

But who tried to poison me and why? A main character of my education is not to give importance to oneself. There is an importance as ‘self’ I’m proud of for myself, but it does not make you appear on the social surface. For me, to make the effort of trying killing someone, is to give an importance to someone. And I? Why should I be important? Because I walk down to Jerusalem? Don’t be ridiculous.

How strange.

Another feature of mine is to concentrate on peanuts whenever a situation is too difficult. I can’t solve it: I better learn how to make cheese. Steal the receipt from Kuria Maria who has put so many barriers so as not even her children be able to learn it, is an interesting challenge in the meantime. Peanuts. I’m really not going to think I have the whole DID (Deutscher Informationsdienst) on my back. And if I had, were it worth the while to think about it. As I have no proves I have no evidence and as long as I have no evidence, it simply can’t be true. It’s as easy as that: fundamental principle to keep reason in simple philosphical patterns. You escape paranoia easily.

Who am I at King David? Whatever. If someone has the brilliant idea of asking for information, I may be an international terrorist, a fascist, a nazi, a suicide sect leader, I don’t know, a poor shepherd, a link to mafia, an idealistic theorician fighting against banks, a jeans wearer, who knows.

Of course they have forgotten to categorize an ‘I’ as very proud independent ‘I’ who wants to write a book, has been poisoned twice and may have half the world on her back because a new quarrel between formalism and synthesism has arosen.

For you, Frau fiscal, I’m whatever except of what I think I’m myself.

Independently of that, I’m sure now a crime has been committed here and has been hidden away. It’s true that the murder is dead, apparently, if I judge through the appearance of a ghost, thing that is not a very reasonable criterium, either. The one who became a ghost has died because the marks of identity involved a crime already committed, (psychopaths don’t get necessarily active) and this implied a series of murders will be committed. There is no way back. A logic at psychopathetic levels is a machine, a routine, a compulsive reality.

Who has paid this person in order to commit a crime? Who is the murder at the end? If this one is the hand, who has wanted it?

I ask myself in my irreal reality. I have not even seen a corps myself, but the mars woman doesn’t need to see corpses in order to know a crime has been ordered. In a gipsy language there has even been a confession. But what have flies to do with corpses? If someone has shown a mark of bad consciousness it is a subjective proof for me and this concerns as much the fly man as Rafael, who has now put the sniper behind my back.

Good. There is a sniper, someone who has covered a crime, a fly man and Rafael. If Rafael shows bad consciousness, say, Natasha, what are you doing here, say? That was no convincing answer.

It’s still subjective proves. What, are you ever going to go to the police to say: I presume he has bad consciousness this implying he is hiding away a murder? Well. I wouldn’t think that very serious. Consequently I don’t do it.

There is a bomb, I verify careful, because it is possible to establish links between a psychic type and such a realization. The psychic type is there and the bomb is possible. This bomb precisely, thing which all in all reassures me deeply. My way of thinking is determined by my goals, by my interests, by my studies. If a something is build up that is not tactic, tomorrow Israel will be accused of mass murder at the same level as Germany during the second world war. All my beautiful plans to write a nice book with a perfect end are bombed up and I really don’t want that. If it is a tactic bomb, well, the best, even if it is very dangerous. It’s a matter of custom to weigh balances: so much, as many, here or there, (I laugh) that’s new international balances very much to my convenience. And with a tactic weapon, how nice.

I’m not going to worry about the bomb anymore. Whatever happens with it or them, it doesn’t alter the end of my story. But the national betrayer is still running around. It’s not my business. Shall they take care about their private affairs themselves.

Now. The murder. Who, for me, is the one who paid for the crime. (“Shall Assyria, my hand and my instrument, put itself upon me?” Prophets. Or: I command in justice and Assyria is my instrument, which, if it wants to act for itself, takes itself for God and acts outside of justice. = Means, who commands the murder takes himself for God and is a psychopath, in our terms.) If someone says there has been a crime, it will be possible to establish that the murder is dead but also possibly that he had been paid to kill. Through a phone call on his mobile, for example. If you catch that one, you’ll get rid of a natonal betrayer. Two flies with one sole stroke.

I’m thinking. In any case I’m covering no crime because I, personally, have never seen a corpse nor have I been told anything related. Who is covering a crime? Miss Marple, really. And they sit down that day, in the depth, four of them, and the second German (I used to call her and will never get a name) looks at me in horrible fright. Another one who has learned the gipsy language dar too quickly.

A scandal, Gazit, a real scandal. Gonna see what happens if anyone learns about that. And laugh. The ridiculous situation arising from what everyone knows and nobody says and everyone suspects deeply without proves and all thse poor people looking as if they were bathing in a horrible bad consciousness. No, a manager knows about law, Gazit, not about how to keep appearance, although too, but this is a legal crime, for God’s sake. What is it exactly? The other asks after a while. Good. Let us go on keeping appearance then.

In fact I’m having a horrible fun with all these people and while Schwartz goes on hunting psychopaths, actively, I don’t really want to consider the real implications of it all. That are gravest, I presume. Managers without knowledge of law and this implies the illegal is breaking walls all over the financial world. What do I care, I’m just writing a book.

That day the German agent dies. I know it. I know it as well as I know the psychopath has died. Because this wicked goat has broken my lines and has managed to make a posion reach my environment. As long as I don’t know who it is and how she managed to get there, I have a weak point. Reason why I’m hiding myself away so well. I have countered the possibility this may happen again, have introduced variables in consciousness and location, I usually move in an ‘as if’ I were somewhere else, but it is not enough in order to put an end to the menace. It is a pressure to my consciousness, the awareness of a dangerous presence I have managed to locate: Skopje, German Embassy, somewhere around.

It’s not that I have the whole DID on my back, it is that I’m actively fighting against the DID. Whatever derives of that consciousness has a logic, a logic has plans, plans have means of realization, with enormous happiness I’m countering whatever arises from the DID. What is that again? I don’t know very well, and actually I’m just selling wheat. I mean, Xristos is, I never sell anything, I’m very bad at business.

Germany is financing wine in Skopje. They buy tenth class Skopjian new wine in order to reward them for the cover. Hm. Police in Sokpje is infiltered by Germany, the guy just there speaks fluent German and has been trained there. Hm. Hm. Well, Xristos sells wheat.

If that day I feel so well, it is because she is dead. The pressure disappears, I feel relaxed and sleep away, thing that never happens, not even whe I’m sleeping.

But what has happened? Such a coincidence.

I build up a hypothesis: the pressure in Skopje was becoming very high as I had carelessly alerted Serbian on the criminal presence (she tried to kill me) there. I had told Greek, too. She looses one tower of control after the other. Infiltered agents change jackets. Secret support points are revealed by prostitutes. Links to the Catholic Church are discovered. Pressure on those block all possible communication lines to population. The situation looks desperate. Apparently she leaves. Perhaps her identity has been discovered and she is hunted day after night. Like me. Almost. Perhaps she wants to change appearance through plastic surgery.

In any case, I would say that the person called Katherine Fuchs was not Katherine Fuchs. She doesn’t remember me even if the Spanish nuns remember me very well. I think her features altered, as if she had changed. I ask her whether there are Rothschild’s in Israel and she starts reading a long list of names of a phone book. For a long while. I do the same with K. She is director of a hospital. He is general manager of a hotel. He says, “I’m not the lost objects office.” The French Embassy does the same than K. “We’re not here to provide information.” Good. Fuchs is a fake. What does someone at that level do? Not to sit down in order to read names.

I may have done so, that’s why I verify.

Hm.

If this is so, it is possible that Rafael has alerted the police concerning a virtual Russian spy. I stroll around (my contacts), they arrive a little later, discover nothing in Haifa but a secret signal emissor in En Kareim. She starts running while she’s said to stop, she’s shot. In the meantime we still don’t know what has happened to the real Katherine Fuchs but I know that the woman in Skopje had a blue medal belonging to the Filles de la Charité. And Katherine Fuchs belongs to the Filles de la Charite, too. The most probable thing is that Katherine Fuchs is dead.

And I? I went to Haifa in order to test whether there was a free way somewhere to escape the sniper, go to the hospital because I knew people there, makes an excuse, Gazit said to keep appearance, and the Spanish nun alerts me through the voice of something strange that is happening. Thus – that’s really strange – let’s pay a visit to En Kareim.

Yes, but Sask lived in En Kareim. Another mess. Really.

Now, the German agent is dead to my greatest relief, a horrible, stupid accident you may have never dreamt of. That it is so becomes clear a little after: the DID has sent an agent to King David, the secret ultra fascist section I use to call ‘the blondies’ (all women of more than 1.70 and blond) is paying a visit to Doris Wilheim at jewelry Stein. They have opened an investigation. Because of Katherine Fuchs? No. She was Austrian. Because of the German agent. Von Ribbentrop family.

Poor Wilheim. The last information having arrived to the Central was related to King David. I, well, I was looking out of the window that day.

And that stupid goat, what did she have against me?

It’s when she dies that I get her very sophisticated identification codes. I sit back again: that’s it. All. Old nazi hidden away by the Catholic Church in Skopje Macedonia with links to Albania and Bulgaria. Albania is cut off the Sovjet block. The Albanian/Yougoslavian borders are loose. There are Albanian Catholics and Bulgarian Catholics. Lines are opened under cover again under the Sovjet cover. Exactly. Teresa of Calcutta: allegedly an Albanian from Skopje has founded a new order in India that can’t be under the direct control of the Vatican that must always count with too curious elements of the Church. Lines to India. She, she was a ‘friend’ of Diana of Wales. Hm. And Diana of Wales surrounded by the Catholic Church. Was she killed by the DID? Of course: UCK, 17^th Nov, PKK, it’s all not that far away. What are they aggressing? Whatever put resistence to the nazi progress. Yougoslavia. Greece. Turkey because they betrayed at the end. Whatever, at the end.

And, are these most honorable members of Henkel and Ribbentrop families linked to the German State? Hm? The German Embassy in Thessalonika has given me a false pasport. And Frau von Ribentrop had her offices just beside the German Embassy in Skopje and they knew each other.

I know too much again. I have the German DID on my back, that’s for sure. Now.

Better look out of the window.

And now? They have lost the chief of the gang.

Gold traffic trough Rumania. That’s what the man said in Hungary? Gold? What the hell are they doing again? Gold traffic through the Catholic Church, I had concluded. Where is there gold? In Turkey, the man said who owned the gold mines. What do they want gold for?

I don’t know. But Teresa of Calcutta was given a Nobel Prize and the Nobel Prize is partly financed by the Foundation Onassis. Financial resources deriving of the killing of son Alexandros and through the use of the members of the board of the Foundation for own purposes? Hm.

How? Through  a system allowing to wash money of mafia through a legal hole not controlling income and outcome in the Foundation? Hmmmm. That means the control on most mafia activities.

You, Federman, you are working for the German DID. Well, that looks fine. Federman is introducing 200 killers under the excuse of providing them jobs in Israel, belonging to all branches of US mafia, Lo had said. The OTM is being transferred to Israel, or Gaza (?), the gambling mafia is changing headquarters and the prostitution mafia coming from Orient is making now a necessary stop in Jerusalem. How religious. And you, you have two agents in an investigation department or whatever it is and a Samurai sword on the wall. Federman is getting links into the police.

I’m sorry, Frau fiscal, but I’m not going to put your life in danger telling you the half of it.

No, I’m sorry Frau fiscal, but this knot in the USA gets lost in hundreds of millions of inhabitants, here you are 3 milllion (?) and with that force it implies a control on all state depending entities in less than six months. Luckily she’s just arrived. But, it doesn’t look nice.

That was a construction and all fits together subjectively in a gipsy language. You better shut up, Gazit, however vile the crime you’re commiting.

That day Li arrived acompanied by two body guards who were shaolin monks and I greeted leopard from far.

There is nothing objective. There are no proves. It all simply joins at the end in such ways that it makes a mess of impressions and intuition intelligible. Determining what you do, imposing on you a behaviour. I, knowing this my way of knowing, I decide to sit down a little longer.

That’s what happens if you get into fairy tales. What a fairy tale does is to create a feeling, where symbolic characters move inside of logics that have consequences inherent, and you may decide to stay inside of this feeling and order reality around it. When the feeling disappears, you have to find the way back. My Pakistani fairy tales is horribly agressed all over and I have to find the means to defend it. Xristos is a definite fan of the Queen of Sabah and there are others, too. While Obelix actively defends the Queen of Sabah of all possible insult or unproper thought, I was translating the fairy tale into Israeli ways of understanding. What does this result in? Logically all the aggressing elements become real all around.

But this reality is a fairy tale and what results of it is necessarily a fairy tale, too? I had maintained that f thus v = f: if the fairy tale is an f in your ways of seeing and this reality deriving is v, the whole is false. Stay there, Frau fiscal, and don’t move an inch. This horrible reality is nothing but the result of  a fairy tale and thus a fairy tale, too. Well French say that f thus v = v, and for them this horrible reality will be more than true, with or without Queen of Sabah.

There is a logical mistake I will pay for a little after. In fact: f (in A but v in B) thus v (in A  and v * in B) = v. (Results in 2006: La cumbre de Quito)

They’ll put me into prison for having induced you into error, Frau fiscal. But that’s all we have for the time being. I swear it’s not deliberate.

Good. Now, don’t ask me what a proof is or I commit suicide, Frau fiscal, a proof is proving enough, that’s all.

It’s obvious that the hotel is serving other purposes, too, Gazit says finally.

But I have everything in my hands, now. Even the possibility of getting proves. I have the underlying logic and scheme and I can even get proves. Behold, France and Germany. X is dead. But I’m still alive, fairy tale or not.

For the time being, tell me if you have something to do for a mars woman, I will get bored waiting for time to pass.

It must be ‘die kleine Nachtmusik’. Beethoven’s or Mozart’s? I don’t remember. Will have to look it up, one day.

I have already had a look around. Usually I arrive through David’s Tower. You have to walk down a staircase, cross a street that is already almost a road, and take a narrow street up after having crossed a park, where a camel is usually waiting for tourists. There is the reproduction of a windmill to the left, a little bit lower down. To the right of the narrow street there is the French Embassy and a little bit further up the Vatican’s Library. To the left, the long walls around King David’s Garden. Just at the corner, at the walls, there are ceramics picturing something. Streets of Jerusalem, I think. If you turn to the left, you get to King David’s entry.

There is one guard or two at the entry.

According to K, King David’s manager I have had all time to become friends with, King David was built by an Egyptian in the 30rties, a heavy, strong building seeming to be more inspired of the architectural features of Petra than of what is usually considered as oriental. Used as general headquarters of the British army during the second world war and a little after, it is bombed up by Israeli independentists, making an ugly hole in one of the wings. It stays empty for many years after, although it is repaired and is bought up in the sixties or around, by Dan Chain Hotel owners Federman. Two brothers who owe about 7 of the most expensive hotels in Israel.

The inner architecture, a paper says on one of the pillars, is supposed to be inspired of Salmon’s palaces along different periods – I always asked myself how they knew what it looked like, but that was a subsidiary question. In any case, it would be used to lodge Kings and Queens for many years, Kings od Jordan and Spain among many other well known people. The agreements of Camp David were signed at the table in the room just to the right of the lounge, if you consider ‘right’ what appears to you while entering the place. After that room, a third room makes the bar, Schwartz’ empire.

In the second room, there where the table is,  there are two interesting pictures: one shows a woman with a shirt that reminds of the XIXth Century, the other is a Seascape with ships.

Nobody does ever stay in the second room. Or very, very rarely, people wanting to escape the smoke of those litting cigarettes in the lounge. There are not many people there, either, except when groups arrive. Or on Saturdays. Saturdays are boring.

Walking on while entering you get to the restaurant and from there you to the terrace. There is another door, too. The terrace is at a certain height from the garden, where the swimming pool is. If you follow the corridor just after the reception desk you get to the different offices or to the rooms. There is a small room where you can find pictures of Kings and Queens and different moments of the hotel.

To the left of the entry there are reception rooms. And you can get to the rooms through the elevator or through the marmor stair cases that turn around in white quite impressively.

Along the corridors there are shops. Or meeting rooms, to the left. Someone is selling Cuban cigars and Stein is selling jewelry. Show windows give samples of items you can find in other shops, in Tel Aviv, for example, antiquities or other, diamonds, eventually. Somewhere in the depth there are people caring about other’s beauty, a hairdresser, people come to visit from outside, among other.

It’s obvious that someone who is hold for important has arrived because they mark this presence by a red carpet. You know more or less who there is through the flags at the entry. There are meetings hold by Universities and companies. Soldiers come sometimes and officers. On Saturday’s, orthodox Jews go to have coffee there in private tete a tetes. With hats on their heads.

Many people of Jerusalem itself go for coffee or lunch to the terrace, when the weather allows it. According to Yusif it’s mainly ‘important’ people belonging to the political scene. As I don’t know anyone, I can’t evaluate.

People reminding me of something and appearing during the 6 months I would finally stay there, either in a room or just having coffee, there would be Giorgos Papandreu, the Greek Minister of Foreign Affairs, Berlusconi, the Italian Prime Minister,  for a few minutes and a TV show, the Czech Minister of Foreign Affairs, a few members of the US Congress and perhaps others escaping my attention. Or Rachid’s, Yusif brother’s attention. My main informer, by the way. There are others who look important but I wouldn’t be able to identify: US finances, I would guess, Chinese politics, Japanese business, French Montecarlo or surroundings. There are many who have profited of a bargain and come in groups for a reduced price and a common misbehaviour and usually just stay for a weekend. I’m sure that one, precisely that one, is a Spaniard belonging to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. A woman, about 35. It’s obvious that she, with apparent links to Spanish aristocracy, is, as much as Anya, furious. With the lack of attention, I guess. Or. Or. There is something she doesn’t like in any case and this will make King David loose around 200 potential clients in Spain. I go on figuring out.

I would like what all that is supposed to be about. Not that I care very much. I was just trying to verify something and got into a horrible mess. I can behave as much as misbehave and fit as well into one environment or the other, piano or blue plastic bags, Ministers of shouting around groups, it’s just to change the colour of the t-shirt that day.

Ah. The wife of the president of Cote d’Ivoire was there, too.

It’s true that I thought at the beginning that it would be horribly difficult, to become a shadow in such environments whose careful study becomes every day more urgent. If I want it or not I have been working without hardly getting a penny for years, have got used to nothing beside nothing and just asked Xristos for a part of my earnings the day the Challenger fell. It was Saturday and Xristos had a little money in his safe, said he’ll bring it if it is enough, it should be enough, I think, for a three weaks trip I have 12.000 euro in my hands. It’s not all, and this is reassuring.

It’s true that I hadn’t the slightest intention of staying at King David at the beginning and remark quite quickly that a somewhat neutral appearance fits very well the whole. I mean, it won’t bother anyone if I have a coffee there. I think. The coffee is good, by the way, and it is years I haven’t had an expresso anymore as it is no custom in Greece.

I really don’t understand what it all is about. But at the beginning I really don’t care. It simply fits me well, that’s all.

It’s true that I was confronted to the problem of security because I had been analyzing Minja’s psychic type. I mean, because of the information on the bomb, or whatever it was at the end, and I had asked for the types working in security. It’s true that I don’t care very much about Berlusconi or Giorgos Papandreu, but it’s not that. Is security included in the prize of around 230 USD a night, and if yes, to which extent? Is the fact of being hunted by a sniper parts of the prize, too? I mean, are costs so high that people who are not able to make the difference between a private and a public affair are hired as chiefs of security? To put it somehow. And you finish by being accused of being a Russian spy for the same price?

If I’m not wrong, Rafael is the chief of security. Perhaps attached to the army. In any case he uses to stand at the reception whenever someone ‘important’ arrives.

As I don’t know what the world is about, I have even solved the problem of clothes just in an approximate way. I won’t spend a lot of money for what may not be adjusted to environment. I decide to use Byzantine colours: black/gold/purple, or blue. There is nothing more serious than that. And an Austrian jacket. It means to adjust buying  a t-shirt with Hebrew letters on the back. It fits the blue plastic bags. The t-shirt is blue, too. A King David uniform must be jeans with a hand made golden embroidery on a black jacket, I conclude, but sometimes you need the t-shirt, too.

There is something I don’t understand. There are people who fit into King David even with other similar uniforms and people who simply don’t fit inside. King David is not Dior, it’s far too sober for that. It’s someone who wears a silk dress that can hardly be identified as silk. Well, no, it’s not that I say that you have to wear a uniform if you go to  a hotel, but it strikes the mind that some people fit inside and some don’t. I would put Betty Catroux as image responsible for King David, I go on thinking. I have never seen such simple and sober elegance in my life again. She wouldn’t throw me out. Dior would, but Dior doesn’t fit there.

And that. Neither Gazit nor K or whoever managing entity is visible in the whereabouts, wears silk or cashmire. When my Spanish whoever of the Foreign Affairs Ministery will arrive, nobody will know she’s wearing silk. You see, it’s obvious. You can be discreet, but you like people knowing you have spent a 2000 to look nice the day you’ll enter King David.

No, I don’t know what she was doing there but I’m more than sure that she was angry.

Nobody knows either that John the John is a rap super star in the USA. The poor black tall guy is sitting around as if he had reached the tops of anonymity and feels a little bit lost. At least that is possible at King David: The Spaniard looks obviously angry and the rap super star looks lost. The walls are asking how you feel and everyone is trying to give an answer his own way.

The man belonging to the USA congress is asking himself what present he is going to bring to his wife.

It’s a place that makes you think of buying presents. To family members, specially.

It’s a nice place to hunt ghosts, exchange bombs for whatever and to have coffee. From a certain point of view, even the sniper has his reason to be and doesn’t disturb the décor.

After a while, I make a club of King David. For reasons of security. Listed possible invited and acquaintances. I put Betty Catroux to make the list and a quite interesting and somewhat confusing amount of chaotic elements are put together. Of course I think bargains basse classe. The price has just gone up from 230 USD to 410 but I don’t care very much. People are allowed to have coffee there even if they are not on the list, Betty Catroux says. Won’t stay outside after having made such an effort to analize the situation.

It’s obvious that the personel is cheap. It’s obvious that almost no one knows to behave himself. Except of Yusif and his brother and someone I call ‘the katziki’ (the goat) for unknown reasons and who really starts jumping around at a certain moment.

If I leave a tip of 1 dolar or 50 cents every time I come and if I stop doing so and it starts taking half an hour before you bring the coffee, you’re rather misbehaving. And that’s a common feature all around. Someone who speaks three languages is expensive and if he isn’t, he’s confusing butter with margarine. An international hotel and you are supposed to speak Hebrew to get the price of the room? They are reducing expenses. They are reducing expenses but the rooms still costs 230 USD a night at high season.

And why are they reducing expenses?

I would say that the general marketing feature is “is important who brings money. Groups bring money. They are important.” Nobody cares about the fact that my Spaniard has links to aristocray and not because she has or is, but because potential clients in Spain for King David move all around there and she has just started a bitter anti King David campaign. She may have brought money. Now she doesn’t anymore.

There are many people in Spain who have money. Yes. New rich are very common. But they, they don’t go to King David. They go to brilliantly shining neon chrome David Hotel just beside. The environment is attractive for Spanish aristocracy or oldest upper middle classe. She’s just left.

Ok. I promise, Gazit, that people with means don’t care paying 400 USD a night. They have more than that. But I’m sure they are going to get nervous with the blue plastic bags. Your weekend groups stay a weekend and leave and don’t say a word: they don’t even appreciate the environment and won’t say a word on it, ever. No cheap publicity through the enthusiastic comments of someone who has staid in admiration in front of a century old tapestry. “I was in the same hotel than King Juan Carlos,” she would say. The other, the Canadian tourist, does not even know who he is. You may be Republican or Monarchic, it rather doesn’t matter. What matters to you is that a Republican will hardly be able to stay at King David and if he is, he will go to David Hotel just beside. The very history, the appearance of the place is attractive to some and if these are all Monarchic in Spain and silk dealers in Turkey, you’ll have to deal with that, too.

I think.

Ok. Let’s have a look around. Competitive area: there are at least 5 major hotels in the same street or very next to it. David’s and Salmon’s and the kind all around. From  a certain point of view, King David has a very privileged situation. May it not please the Britsh, a most attractive bomb attack has occurred there. Yes, we are very stupid and “I, yes I, have been in a place where a bomb has been placed around 50 years ago”. It’s older, it’s charged with history, the furniture in the rooms is more than expensive, heavy and beautiful. Sober, still. There is a nice terrace, a garden with swimming pool in the middle of Jerusalem, five stars and nice coffee.

You pay 300 USD for that. At least.

David Hotel just beside is lowering prices. Is dangerously lowering prices. Neon, glass and chrome is lowering prices. Not Salmon and probably Isaias a little bit farer away.

Well, you know it is impossible to lower prices that much. It is impossible to pay all that and have prices that are so low. So? How are they financing these prices?

On top, dirty competition. Someone has left a paper belonging to David Hotel on one desk saying “the visit to David Hotel includes the visit to Minister ‘Alfa’ in his offices in I don’t know where.”. Ah, no, but they’re on top shameless enough to leave a panflet at King David.

Mind, but the paper is full of ortography mistakes.

You think Minister Alfa, who apparently has become a touristic attraction on top, makes the weight of the King of Jordan? Some may believe so. Others though, not.

I stroll around David Hotel. Glass, chrome, neon. To which prostitution mafia are you linked to, the brilliant new rich over there? It’s obvious. The fight is not on rooms, it is that King David is far too moral, still. If you have a hotel that is linked to that mafia and you sell a room and a couple of prostitutes for a percentage of benefit, you can lower prices as you have an illegal (usually) side income. If legislation prohibits that type of income, David Hotel looses and King David wins. David Hotel will be pushing political situations towards the tacite doing as if that law did not exist, or towards the fact it never becomes possible, if it does not exist and King David is going to do exactly the contrary. Still. It’s obvious that David Hotel is ‘infiltering’ King David: cheap temporary working forces belong to the same mafia that controls already David Hotel and are trying to hit very low by introducing prostitution elements inside of the hotel.

It’s almost as if the Spaniard was starting to get furious because of that. Independently of how little of these phenomena are observable around King David, although there are, the hotel management in general is ruled by a thought according to which a man has to be put at tops and peaks of respect and importance, wherever he comes from because he is going to pay a 1200 USD prostitute, for a night. They are not at King David. The management politics is the same.

Our poor Spaniard does not even exist and this is starting to make her furious because she, yes, she has spent a 2000 to buy her silk dress before arriving.

I don’t understand why the silk dress seller has not the type of agreement with the hotel the prostitution mafia has, or related. A percentage on sales not a rent for a shop.

Perhaps, usually, we go to a 5 stars hotel to feel important (actually I don’t understand very well what all these people are doing there, because I presume my reasons are not very common). The very fragile situation is pushing King David to the borders of bankruptcy, it’s obvious. They lower prices, we lower prices, they get an income through prostitution, we start making cuts in personel. It’s like that? To what management school did you go, Mr K?

I would prefer not to know.

And that is starting to make me nervous, this time. I don’t understand it. A 5 star hotel manager gets a nice income, with cuts or not. This strategy is ruining King David, by the way one of the most beautiful hotels I’ve ever seen.

Are you getting money for ruining a hotel? Independently of how sympathetic Mr K is, the poor, also, who can’t get out of general marketing strategies, I think, but that’s it, on top it’s general marketing strategies, and the fact that he will argue that ‘the share holders impose marketing strategies through necessary benefit deriving’, he does not convince me at all.

We don’t get anywhere this way.

Worried about a whole situation I confide to Leya that according to traditional Spanish law, the manager gets a 50% of benefit and the investor a 50%, too, if they build a company together. If the manager is a founder of the company. Work and money share a 50% in a traditional Spanish mind and what is starting to happen here is that the investor wants the 98% of benefit for coconuts while the one who is working at a general valuable strategy gets if he is lucky a 2%.

Why should money be coconuts, the other asks, without money, there is nothing.

No? Money is nothing but an artificial value depending on a state organization determined by an interaction in law. Here, money is being pushed towards mafia. Mafia doesn’t pay taxes. Without taxes, the state breaks down and there is no control through law. Without control there is no possibility to maintain values. Money disappears in inflation. It’s nothing anymore but paper and worthless coins. How much do you pay to get you out of the shit? A 2%. Don’t make me laugh.

Irit Gazit is going to save King David for a 2%, I’m sure of that. It’s a nice place, after all. Menacing shadows on motorbikes coming from David Hotel keep control on streets day and night, sometimes. Would make a nice movie, I think.

If Gazit has managed to find the sniper so quickly, she will certainly finish by getting inspired by my intelligent management ideas. Psst… There is a place somewhere where there are no whores. Of course it costs 400 a night. (To say) If my club becomes the utter need of wearing a Rolex the day you make the reservation or something else, is rather indifferent. No, otherwise it’s full. The thing is that Gazit will, I’m sure, translate a feature of reliability into a something that is universal enough so as not to hurt Japanese, Chinese or Canadian and this, this makes the most secure security system in the world. What is reliable doesn’t hurt and makes good publicity after, for rather cheap. Better: the ‘dangerous’ element, were it, yes, a Russian spy, is immediately visible. You’ll get a body guard for free, my dear, at discreet distance. Security policy. Or a sniper, who knows, it depends on your behaviour.

Inside of this general structure King David shows possible benefit of over 40% a year. With reinvestment in CD players to listen to the music you want to. And a 5% in capital. King David has become one of the most powerful hotels on earth.

That. The Spaniard starts feeling better. Nobody remarked her investment at that moment but she will get an everlasting publicity now. Nobody knows who she is but she wouldn’t like to, either. She knows it.

It’s a Spanish way of thinking. I mean, upper classes.

Even if it looks weird, that was more or less our financial organization in Greece. In the north. In a forlorn village lost in Macedonia. International agricultural products trade hold by a small intuitive, financial genius I use to call ‘the phoenician’, now translated into the hotel business at upper levels.

As Xristos will never get the theory out of his inspirations, I’ll do that for him. It’s simply fascinating.

Even Schwarzenegger will finish by visiting King David with a blue scarf around his neck and accompanied by … Irit Gazit. He never came to Greece but it is obvious that he had to deal with a problem with taxes in California, too.

One thing strikes my mind. Whatever the item is I have constructed here and which should show resemblance with a possible bomb, the one who has build this is not paying a sniper to kill me. A bullet between the eyes and one in the heart. Fuuh, that’s far west. It’s not exactly the thing the other has constructed but with a variable of a 30% percent, it’s still not the same person. It doesn’t fit the character. The person who is building up this is someone who works 16 hours a day or more, concentrated in something that is following the schemes of an inner intuition. Takes a book, reads about security failures in electromagnetic sytems, tests a matter that could be weak and exchanges it for another. Buys material from far away if it could be better. There is a circle of possible relationships. She may loose her nerves for a matter of image, yes, but even then, her circles don’t include the possibility of hiring a sniper.

The one who has hired the sniper is the security chief of King David. It’s more than logical. Worse: he is deviating through signs the responsibility on Schizafon. Deviation in signals is resulting of esthetical formalism and was at the origin of the death of gipsies. Esthetical formalism is French. Rafael has been trained in France. Actaully, he speaks French, too.

Hm.

Two bullets. I have two bullets.

Strangely, the agreements reached with gipsies in Skopje 1996 had included the separation in groups of the artificial and the natural. As task. They translate the coordinates of their task inside of 24 hours and manage to divide a camp in two groups with these different characteristics, without having exchanged a word. The leader has a coin. The coin should move from one place to the other until it arrives at the right place.

Copying languages implies copying inherent structures in agreements. After a few weaks, Gazit has managed to introduce her division, too. Here, though, the artificial are all men and the natural, women. A very fine line is separating one field of the other as if formalism had inspired a most adequate image.

Two bullets. If lines are so intelligently separated I may dare two bullets without risk.

Sask’s brother is working for the police. He has a Japanese sword.

Shanee has made her military service at the police. I give her a coin. An old one.

It will remind you of me, I say, perhaps you will be wanting to give it to someone else.

The coin has been bought at an antiquity shop at the Palestinian Quarters and actually was an excuse to get to know the handsome guy, son or nephew of the owner who uses to stay in the shop. The one who will finish by stealing the CD. With music or other information. I call him Minja’s lover. Not because he were, but because they use the same inherent structures to do something forbidden. Logically the CD must have arrived in Minja’s hand. Must be a deepest demonstration of love. (I laughed that day, too.)

If it were not because I got troubled by a new tornado possibly arrising out of given circumstance I would perhaps have never shown my anger. But the day I came back from Tel Aviv I was really furious, fed up and up to my neck with what could still possibly be and start shouting at K for whatever reasons. I guess I have never been so angry in my life. “You owe me 400 USD,” I say. “Money is not important,” he says. “Money may not be important,” I say, “but double prices are. And I have just been told through Tel Aviv that prices were at that time 20 USD less than what I have paid a day.”

One bullet.

Between the eyes.

In fact I’m confused because I seem to be seeing the difference between a circon and a diamond with my eyes. How peculiar. They shine differently. And if this is true, I go through all diamonds at Stein and shop windows, then, the guy here is selling circon for diamonds. Not Stein, luckily, I think, I mean, it was nice conversations with Wilheim, after all and the jewelry has such nice design. But you can’t see the difference with your eyes. Is it, is it not? But that stupid idiot is selling circon for diamonds, and this, here. Now, that’s enough. If on top circons have entered the diamond market the universal ruin will happen in a few months, not in a few years. Ah, no, but what the damn are you doing, the Jews?

And if yes, if yes all that, even if it is not possible (but how did this happen again?), then  this idiot has been covering a murder by just throwing the corpse away. It’s that easy, the fly. It’s that easy to throw a corpse away. You are a murder.

I have more than evidence that the fly man has covered a murder, Mr K, and it is true that I don’t care a shit about money but I care about murders. The murder is still free, or not perhaps, in any case, nobody is tracking him because you’re covering a murder, ah, yes, because it was a prostitute, the victim, look at that. Look at that. And about circons, too. I very much care about circons and diamonds, too, and I’m fed up with your sitting around saying ‘what do I care if it is Russian mafia if they have money’ because I, yes I, I don’t want to sit down beside Russian mafia. Nor Italian, yes, from Sicilia, just there, beside. Not to talk, yes, not to talk about the sniper.

One bullet between the eyes.

Mr K pays 400 USD but will soon join the sniper’s club after having been so heavily insulted. I was, too, mind.

Benji joins the sniper’s club. Perhaps because I’m making fun on the salmon portion or because I seem really to enjoy a French meal at a restaurant nearby.

Yusif stays most faithfully to my side, even yes, even if he’s a man, but that’s because he’s Palestenian and doesn’t submit to Gazit’s organizations. Schwartz does, too, even if he is not Palestinian. But he comes from Rumania and Rumanian are like that, he seems to argue.

For God’s sake. Circons and diamonds. Did I not have enough. But how is it possible. You can’t see the difference with your eyes. But I see it, it’s empirical, I swear. The light is ‘fatter’ in a circon, not so fine. Not so bright. Like the time horn: in August it could have been a diamond and the rest of days, a circon. I can see it? Does anyone else? If the circon has entered the diamond market at the level of national reserves, we’re finished. That was it. Good bye tout le monde, let’s go back to the jungle.

Whether it is true or not, because it is a priori impossible, you better take care, you Jews, that no single circon enters the diamond market. Not one single circon, Mr Stein, or I cut your throat off. Yours specifically. Just in case.

I sit back. Lines. Is there possible circon to diamond traffic detectable anywhere at state level? Hope I’m wrong. Really hope I’m wrong. Just in case. Who knows. No, it’s impossible to make the difference between circons and diamonds with one’s eyes. It doesn’t matter. Just in case. I’m not going to believe now things may have reached that far.

Can I really see a difference or am I making it all up? But how strange, I really see a difference. It doesn’t matter, now, I’m not going to start thinking I fell from the universe like Superman.

One bullet between the eyes. The other is still to come.

Ah, yes the evidence. The fly man offered me two days stay at the hotel after the happening with the fly. On top. Without the general manager’s permission.

I didn’t ask for anything. As things are, I didn’t even ask for the breakfast. Why the damn are you offering me two day’s stay without the general manager’s permission, who a little later does still not know that I have been staying there at all? Because of the fly? Because it is easy to throw corpses away? As easy as that.

Brilliant. The psychopath I was tracking has killed a prostitute at King David. Such fun. In an elevator? Another hole in security? They were searching for the one who may witness Rafael’s side step and have managed to find the wrong one. Nice war between Federman and Rafael, then. Must have fun having diner together. 

Golden Virginia is going to ‘jump’. A psychopath who is paid to kill becomes an active psychopath for free after. Reason why I had to run away so quickly from Greece. At the beginning I just thought Golden Virginia is going to ‘jump’. Independently of bombs and other spy affairs, I’m concentrated on psychopathetic lines allowing the control of the Balkan aerea and this one, this one has entered my lines without anyone’s permission. It’s the only thing I really know and actually, actually I really hoped the bomb was just a mistake of mine. Perhaps Golden Virginia was in Thailand or Nicaragua, it was possible, too. Sometimes I have problems to locate exactly where ‘lines’ come from. Golden Virginia is there, the bomb is there, several Russian hypothetical spies are turning around, it’s perfect. It’s more than perfect. And yes, the difference between a circon and a diamond is visible with at least my eyes. Good. The world has just broken down and the only thing I can be happy of is that you have received a poisoned bullet between your eyes. Sorry for you.

Ah. And here the bill for the bullet. It’s high tech.

Schwartz is quickly learning how to hunt psychopaths because he has always been sure Dracula did really exist. Here lesson one, there lesson two, there you are: OTM in Rumania, you caught the guy. He’s just jumped out of the window.

Birds are collecting bread left overs of the table on the terrace and carefully hide them away between the flowers.

Of course leopard wanted to participate to the conversation, too.

News arrive according to which there has been a substitution of person and someone identified as German spy has been shot. Von Ribbentrop family. Skopje.

I sleep away for a few minutes. It’s relaxing this place, after all, but it’s things you don’t do. I will have to be careful.

I owe you  a favour. She had poisoned my liver. I mean, she gave the order and I could never manage to get hold of the person. She’s dead now. And I really feel much, much better. On top, the 14 years old girl who has given the structure of the mouse logic to me, has escaped.

I owe you a favour. That’s while I prepare a second shot. With or without diamonds and circons.

It’s good not to know what you are doing exactly and thus to be allowed thinking it were all still horribly symbolic. It’s amusing to give information further through a marihuana logic. I have little to do in the meantime.

But if it were all true I justify myself saying that a) Bombs in German hands will necessarily lead to a new war, it’s like that: they feel strong and put all their soldiers in movement again. It’s nonesense. B) If bombs fall in French hands, they will use them in order to play the masters of the world by menacing everyone with a never coming intervention provoking even more instability inside of the already quite troubled situation.

China is too far away, these bombs can’t reach that far. The USA are very far away, too. Why do I presume though that bombs in Russian hands will be at the origin of a long lasting peaceful time period, history will remember for many centuries after? Thing, which up to a certain extents implies that I have to take the control on them of Israel? Perhaps it’s a marihuana mood induced by Minja’s presence, but it really seems to solve everything.

In any case it may provoke that Germany leaves its never ending plans of world expansion that are due to the lack of inner finality and menaced by horrible bombs are obliged to consider inner finality as only way to escape their terrible destiny. In fact, it is doing them a favour. Only a defined axe position of Russia may avoid a sudden Chinese invasion.

Of course. Don’t forget Chinese. The Chinese illegal working market is quite broad in Israel. They work for the construction. There are many of them in Tel Aviv already. False passports? Leya was talking about a false passport affair she had filed a claim for at the police. She knows police quite well. That one is nice, that one isn’t, that one is a bastard, and so on. Apparently she was supposed to work for a company insuring these workers and discovered by the way that used passports were false. One day, she had become, as usual, far too curious. But, I think, if passports are fakes, does it not imply these people may be the object of a denunciation before they may start claiming for what they deserve through their insurance? It’s common in Greece. The police comes then when you have to pay, just then, and takes them back to their original country.

A passport.

Ah. Right. That was why I had finally decided to hand over a psychic disposition to build up a bomb to Russia. It’s for free, they are usually not sold in common markets.

1994, crossing the Greek/Turkish border, we are said that “there are many German passports that can be bought in the Istanbul black market”. Many? Same logic? Get into Germany, work for ten years and then, yes, well, don’t claim for anything, your passport is false? Could be. Could be … It’s true that I’m starting to get furious with those bloody German. You really don’t have the means to stop these things from happening?

Where do passports come from? It’s not easy to produce fake German passports. Guess. In Thessalonika.

I will get the prove a little later. Actually I guess already then that it is like that. Something strange while going to renew my passport in Thesalonika. What has happened? I leave my passport in Skopje, rather pretending I‘ve lost it. I have to get a new one in the capital. You can’t get a new passport without a transfer of papers that should now be in Paris, the last place I renewed my passport in. There is no time. On top, papers have to be sent to Berlin. The ‘consul’ (?) in Skopje gets permission to give me a green passport that has no backing in papers and does not pass through Berlin. I’m told to change this passport for a normal one in Thessalonika. I will do it. I go to Thessalonika to get a normal passport and will get a … fake one.

Arguing that my passport is ‘old’ and ‘worn out’ I will try getting one in Madrid in 2003. Where are the original papers? In Paris. You can’t hand out passports without these, thing implying that the passport given to me in Thessalonika is a fake one that has never been registered in Berlin. The German Embassy in Thessalonika is feeding the Istanbul black market with false German passports.

Such fun.

I’m a German with a fake German passport. I won’t tell the German Embassy that my passport is a fake one. They will understand it all alone by themselves by asking for the number. Don’t say now there is not reason enough to give psychic dispositions to Russia for … free. Yes, for free. There is more than reason. You have lost your minds, the guys.

In the meantime it seems as if exactly this channel was used in order to get Chinese workers into Germany through someone called Dankner, of German father and Chinese mother, visiting Israel twice from April to July, leader in the construction world in Frankfurt. The last time I saw him, he had been invited to the 14^th of July party at the French Embassy accompanied by people belonging to the German Embassy in Tel Aviv. An article in English appears in an Israeli newspaper telling the news and the possible commercial interaction to be signed about then with … Leya’s friends.

Well. 200.000 Chinese with fake passports and a few dollars in their pockets seem to be about to cross the German border. I won’t intervene there, now. Don’t have enough to do at that moment already. On top, I still don’t know how I will be leaving.

I have to think back. There were things happening in Greece I had never had the time to think about as I was far too concentrated in my personal investigations. The Onassis affair. I will spend quite an amount of ink on (www.onathinaonassis.wordpress.com ). The Diana of Wales affair or what would become the Harry of England hypothesis. The Twin tower attack. The Opera attack in Moscow. There is something I can’t get the logic of all around.

The ‘mice’ logic whose coordinates are transferred by Salif’s daughter or step daughter is the logic of a possible high treason between Israel and Syria in general terms. It is read by Minja and becomes a new logic, actually an inner counter attack if national securiy is in high danger. Minja is around 20 years old. Athina Onassis is. Harry of England is. It could be that people aged around twenty have the means in logical evolution to convert a high treason logic in a self defense logic. This logic, the ‘mice’ logic, is the Organ Traffic Mafia logic, too. In France.

If this is true, there is a way to escape. But I can stay only under the cover of the OTMafia in the virtual interpretation of an evolution in logic that affects people being around 20 years younger than me. Don’t think Sask is going to let me go so easily. It’s not enough to leave the borders, I need the only logic she can’t go through and this inside of a frame of interpretation allowing the justification of such an environment.

Shanee means something red.

I will have to leave the spatial reconstruction for a little after.

I’m making a mistake, somewhere. There is something wrong, something I can’t grasp. A small mistake in appreciation that may cost me my life, I think is far too valuable so as to let it go so easily. Won’t make you that favour, Sask.

The mistake is visible. There is a ‘correct’ here and a ‘mistake’ here whenever the wrong logic intervenes. I don’t know what the ‘mistake’ is. I have to do as if the mistake were not and simply transform by a malabar the wrong result into a correct one. After, yes, after perhaps I will get the name of the mistake.

Exercise. Make a wrong appreciation and transform it into an act inside of a correct one. I have a lot of time. My visa has expired. I won’t be able to leave at least before August. When the light is shining bright. I don’t know how. Let us make exercises.

I have found a Chinese restaurant in the whereabouts of the Central Post office. They use a root, leopard had talked to me about that may help to correct the problem with my right eye. In fact, I don’t know what has happened to my right eye. I would say it doesn’t see or actually what appears to its vision field arrives far too quickly. It actually provokes a crash with two security agents at King David. I don’t see them. When I see them, it’s far too late. It’s as if my right eye was seeing things so late that when they appear they appear as if they were arriving much quicker than they should. There are always two agents running to my right. Another aspect to be considered. Hope the sniper doesn’t get aware of it.

In fact I feel much better now than in Greece. I’m starting to feel hungry and sometimes I’m thirsty. I sleep better. Although not very consciously I will associate the fact to the height. I must be at 1000 m height. I start seeing better after a few visits to the Chinese restaurant. Have to guess what meal the thing is inside, on top.

Well. Let’s enjoy our visit to Jerusalem, then. I’m waiting for a signal. It will take a lot of time to come.

I have to build up a double reality. In one reality I’m rich. In the other I have not a penny. If I don’t make a mistake again, controls will stay on one image and the second will help me out. Will look like a miserable beggar myself at the end, but I have no choice. As things are, I don’t care what Sask could think of the whole, at all.

20 years old. Shanee. Douna. The one at the postal office. Minja. A few more, here or there. “A friend of mine is called Kasten,” a young security agent says in Tel Aviv. 20 years old. “You could be a Jew.” “As things are I would believe whatever,” I smile.

Let’s concentrate in spending our time without getting too bored and don’t forget to make the exercises.

It will never be easier to give back to all its extension what really finished by happening. The partial reconstruction of happenings will take years: not only the membranes are fused, on top, I really had to of myself for once and my life and had to make the effort of transfering the ‘I’ in consciousness from a temporal awareness to a spatial one. Just at that moment.

A fusion of membranes I called the factual incapability of making the difference between the factual, the possible and the virtual or also a hypothesis in logical coordinates. In psychic language all makes images, stories. If the possible is something that may still happen inside of a certain context, a virtual is something that can’t happen but can be used as construction in order to build up a trap, for example. If it is impossible to steal the most expensive diamond of the world, you may transmit coordinates such that they mean it were possible. Whoever is tempter is caught and you get rid of a horrible enemy, sometimes. A hypothesis is a construction that just considers the logical coordinates of psychic types or structures of understanding in order to use ‘bridges’ allowing to link situations one to another in what I called ‘virtual cristal configurations’. It’s means to transmit information.

All make stories wearing usually a label saying ‘hypothesis’, ‘virtual construction’, etc. A fusion of membranes implies the loss of these labels so that all categories appear at the same level.

To pass from a temporal awareness to a spatial awareness implies a temporary complete loss of memory inside of former patterns, so that perhaps, you still remember something of it all, vaguely, but can’t evaluate it as the three dimensions of time have been reduced to a simple spatial block where stories appear as parts of fantasy in such ways that their fundamental order is altered.

I was still very happy when I left for Thesalonika that day under the general psychic disposition saying “Tintin s’en va-t-en guerre.” Just at that moment where the fact of taking a plane implies a shift in consciousness, nothing is true and all is possible. I’m still writing a book and from the point of view of my immediate awareness, I’m leaving in order to verify a certain number of facts. The book has nothing to do with the original project anymore, which I have completely forgotten and is full of spies and mafia bosses, general catastrophic situation leading to wars and other quarrels, to such extent overdrawn that the whole story makes me laugh all the time.

To verify facts does certainly not imply I’m going to start an investigation. I need places where to embed the whole into, streets and street names, names of people that may fit the pattern and actually to establish eventually a relationship between a few characters and reality. Not even Sask exists anymore, she has become a character, a fantasy whose relationship to reality should be none. I always say. Although.

A few strange happening have cause some trouble to my mind, precisely because they have jumped out of fantasy and join emprical reality. What am I doing writing Hebrew names on a piece of paper? Why does a strange superposition of visual reality make the feeling arise I’m walking at the same time there where I’m and in a military camp in the desert of Negev? And not one on the other. One beside the other. Whether I blame it on the gun powder logic or on an 1 1 electronic logic becomes actually irrelevant: there is a strange link between here and there whose nature bothers me, sometimes, deeply.

In fact a 1 1 logic is a logic of matter. It is as if you thought from the point of view of flesh, without principle of identity or synthesizing entity. It appears then that the nature of matter can be said in words, too: mostly irrational combinations of words and structures that form a more or less intelligible compound associated to the notion of a particular matter.

I remember that ‘we’ were analyzing chemistry and associating smells to these compounds. Inside of the thought a human organism was nothing but one of those compounds, too, it is possible to test interactions, effects. It is actually possible, I continue saying to Hannah, to look very ill when you are not if you figure out your body has interacted with x and assume the physical consequence as logical pattern.

It looks as if gun powder provoked a visualization of symbols in what is usually outer reality. I saw a mountain one day like the Kilimanjaro in the middle of the village, which had as effect to surprise me a little bit. Another day I saw a bullet getting out of a wall and passing a few centimeters away from and in front of my eyes. Luckily it didn’t happen very often, actually, it would never happen again. It is possible to counter a certain number of side effects if you are just using logical patterns. But what has this to do with Israel and Israeli words? “I refuse to learn languages through telepathy,” I write on top of a white sheet, thinking what desastruos consequences this new technique may have for my sister, for example, who all in all takes a living from a language school. In order to counter the obvious shock arising from those phenomena I tend to distort even what I perceive: “Lo (Law) means no in Hebrew”, I hear, and I write beside “Always? – These people say always no to law? It’s nothing to be done.” Manishma is thus changed to manchmal, thing giving as result that ‘they only say hello sometimes’, as manishma means something like ‘how are you’ and manchmal means sometimes in German. The underlying logic appearing is: an intelligible compound (they only say hello sometimes) as judgement arising from the combination of meanings of a word in different though similar associations of sounds to it.

It is more or less the logic I will stay inside for 6 months.

It is of need to note that I really don’t know consciously what I’m searching a gun powder logic for – it looks funny as exercise – and that my behaviour is submitting to a ‘need’, the only determined principle inside of the whole that says itself somehow in the words “we had said we would do this or that”. Whatever arises demanding a reaction or action inside of this injunction is necessarily to be done for reasons that do not appear at that moment. I feel secure as long as I stay inside of the pattern “we had said so” and will very rarely get out of it.

In 2002 signals capture information that can be possibly understood as “transfer of information affecting national security from Israel to Russia.” Nice bit of fantasy arising (I tend to say) from the active interaction of neurons that may give an interesting guiding principle, which is lacking until then, to the whole story. I have already then whole amounts of shelves and folders where the nature of the inspiration is stocked. Independently of what it is, I say: thought compound arising from interaction of notion A and B, for example, or, in lines alfa, or through empirical data omega. Some are strange, and are so strange that I call them ‘signal capture’.

Again I say to Hannah that it is impossible but that it seems as if neurons in a 1 1 logic would interact with emitted signals, waves, I say, phones or electronic waves. “I have to verify this,” I say, “it’s really weird.” What I find now are not things corresponding to notions, but I use to be there when thinking about a determined subject a related subject is dealt with on tv. That is on exactly to transmit that news or that movie, precisely.

Not that that bothers me very much. Although. If this is true things are a little bit different than we tend to think and I develop a theory on light (Quelques points de repere dans un language astrophysician), a subsidiary entertainment I was relatively proud of and which finishes by leading to the statement there were some kind of electromagnetic clouds formed aleatorily by wave interactions and causing disturbances in actual electronic systems. Of planes, for example.

Are they going to stop making none sense? “Frequencies are high. Shall they not fly.” I’m fed up, sometimes. February 20^th the Challenger falls into the void. “I’d told you. Frequencies are high.” I’m fed up. Are they never going to understand anything? Well, it’s time to start learning their stupid language and try explaining them that “frequencies are high”. And on top, shall they stop using those bloody phones so much. Even sheep are getting depressed lately. Book or not I have to learn the way they talk as they will never but never understand that ‘frequencies are high’ anyhow. I have to leave. I leave.

Doris Wilheim was linked to the Challenger hypothesis. Precisely. Doris Wilheim appears at a moment where I’m translating my extraordinary results from an identifying logic into a logic of love interaction, into electronic coordinates. Reason, o reason. And how do you tell to a computer to be reasonable? I’m keeping on one hand a notion of identity or love and on another the schemes of a 1 1 logic. How do you say to a computer to be reasonable? I don’t see anything. And someone appears again, I write the name down of, saying herself Doris Wilheim. Wilheim. Der Wille zum Heim. The wanting to go back home. ET. My home. That’s it. “I have to go back home.” The only thing that may stop a plan made in logics 1 1, which necessarily have to take place, is a subjective apprehension of ‘need’ in lines ‘go back home’ inside of a goat’s logic: the need is transferred into the impression a technical failure is going to provoke a desaster. Are you going to stop flying today? Are you? If you don’t, you don’t deserve it. What, can  1 1 be more than the will to go back home?

Further associated to a configuration called ‘Panzer’, we had ‘Lanze’ of but lacking of shield and is linked to German suburbs, Doris Wilheim is the main actor of a story called the Challenger hypothesis I will carefully write down in ‘Manual of a soldier’.

What has Doris Wilheim to do with Doris Wilheim, I ask myself that day when she arrives happily to smoke a cigarette in the lounge of the hotel, just beside me, and starts talking about, yes, how little there is to do and how boring everything is.

It’s not the only one who has already arrived. The first day, after having asked to a group of passing by Jewish orthodox where ‘King David’ is, I’m said it is just across the valley. But, what is King David? There is a garden. “We have to put a siege to King David”. I go to have a coffee. Snow is falling on the trees and I will go to have dinner because you can see the trees from there. A very obscure character linked to the most horrible crimes in my story, a woman of about 35 is standing to my left. “Don’t cook the lamb in its mother’s milk”, I think, as if it were in itself enough to make her run away. She’s accompanied by who seems to be her husband.

Heleni had said “Don’t forget the goat’s milk” before I had left and had been to pay a last visit to those I usually played cards with at the Psychiatric Hospital in Serres. “The lamb’s milk? Yes, I won’t forget.”

The sheep’s milk appears much quicker than what I would have ever expected.

And now?

My stories are not supposed to say ‘reality’. It’s logics that meet giving birth to the most absurd situations where the good logic is positioned well in society and the bad one is mafia, and mafia is good sometimes, too, but you don’t have to say it necessarily, Greece is a psychic territory and Israel of understanding, if you are in Spain you move in a logic homosexual mm in determining principle, a rationlized aggressive logic is in the army and a spiritual one in a monastery, etc.

What were we doing with Bandellis and Heleni in Serres? We were playing cards. I’m working at different matters: it’s obvious that someone who doesn’t pay taxes is a psychopath because the psychopath’s main characteristic is to think he’s alone in the world, and the social way to admit we are not alone in the world is to pay taxes. One way or another. You can make presents, too. Ot play cards with Heleni and Bandellis. You owe something to a whole you can pay off in different ways.

Inside of this patterns, we are analyzing the case of someone who is linked to the gambling mafia in the USA and has been thrown out for not paying taxes. She has found cover in Jerusalem. The gambling mafia has links to other types of mafia, among which a prostitution mafia seeming to link Asian mafia to the USA through someone called Salif in Damas. The possibility exists, as Salif linked to terrorism, too, that the links to the gambling mafia may end up in high treason.

Is this a hypothesis? A construction? Is this true? In any case, continuing to think it were a character we have to deal with, a hot discussion arises with Israel according to which ‘criteria are not sufficient’ and ‘the fact of knowing that someone has not payed taxes should be enough to suspect psychopathia and this implies increased security, yes, and yes, put her into a high security prison. Now!’. Very satisfied with a reaction that should mark our deliberate distance taken to such circumstances and happenings, we guess nobody will ever listen to, in our story, the concerned is put into prison.

But she is there, just beside me. Now. Here. “Mind Heleni’s goat’s milk,” I think.

I don’t know, but all that is really weird.

The one concerned will disappear a few days later after having been sitting around, just like me, the days before. Who is it?

Points. Other points. Time passes. One day, Doris Wilheim arrives in quite an anger and lits a cigarette and without waiting to see whether I’m really in disposition to listen to anything, says: “I’m fed up. The owner has come and has started shouting around. I can’t bear it anymore.” The owner? Not of the jewelry where Wilheim is working. Of the hotel? A Federman? There are two daughters, one of which has just got divorced, K says. Hm. Jewelry owners are Stein and live in Brazil. A Federman?

Yusif’s brother says one day, after a while, that ‘this is the son of Aaron’. How nice, I think. So? Leya says a few days after that Aaron’s son has been sued for introducing gambling in Israel, that is forbidden. Ah.

Aaron’s son is in the same place where someone who had been linked to the gambling mafia in the USA in a story, seems to live. Or spends a lot of time in.

These are the virtual lines of connection I have linking a story to reality.

I will have to verify much more than I intended to, at the beginning. I change the return date that was planed for three weeks after, once. Again. And once again. After I will forget to change the date.

What is worrying me the most is what I would call after the suitcase affair. The signals. The transfer of information. Can it be true? If yes, what could it mean? I’m not an expert in these things. I don’t know what it can be about. Is something that possibly has no importance for me, of importance for others? How do they measure importance?

What do I care, after all. But I’m really worried.

I don’t know how this may be linked to reality again. The angles of distortion go as far as those I will be able to reconstruct in another story, much, much later: the so called Natalia Vodianova hypothesis.

Natalia Vodianova is a cousin of Natasha. A cousin in my language does not necessarily means they are family, but probably that they have similar patterns of understanding. Somehow different. Natasha saw dark and clear lights in psychic types. Natalia seems to superpose psychic types on reality. She lives in the most incongruent of realities where men get married to men and women to women and where she thinks that this should never happen. It will be one of the people who will make me the most laugh will psychopaths are hunting homosexual repressed and everything is all the time at the edge of war. There. Among the sheep. While talking to Bandellis and Heleni.

A most serious and quite angry claim has arrived to our offices around 2000 or 2001 in the person of a young Russian woman who has arrived to our environment and with greetings says, ‘x’ is furious. So furious? I have a look once, then again. What has happened? I ask for information and establish a relationship to ‘x’ through Natasha. It’s not that I understand very well what has happened but it seems to affect someone who ‘may have given reasons to believe to a serious love story and would have disappeared a little after’. Natasha’s cousin seems to be so furious that a quite menacing war ambiance is detectable in her environments. Who with? Who is it? “I can’t tell you, I had escaped and my parents should never learn.” Hm.

X, later identified with Natalia Vodianova, is in my registers someone belonging to the caviar business. I never know whether these identification marks have anything to do with reality. Natasha belongs to Lenco electronics, or her brother. Perhaps. It’s symbolic, perhaps.

“How do you want me to try solving the affair if I don’t know who you’re talking about? Where were you?” And she sends a ‘signal’. Identifying mark I don’t recognize.

“Before killing anyone, wait until I have a look at the matter.” I say, not really very sure it may result in anything. And ad: “See that if I manage to locate the whole, I’ll tell your parents where you were. What does it mean to run away like that. Everything is possible, after. And what? Are you going to claim after for whatever?” The menace everything will be revealed at the end seems to disturb her already quite developed plans of revenge. Long enough? I don’t know but it is serious.

Who is she possibly attacking? It’s not easy to see.

These conversations will give birth to the so called “Sos del Rey Católico” hypothesis, or “Natasha falls in love with Sask at Sos del Rey Católico”. Sos del Rey Católico is a Parador Hotel in Spain. Patterns: homosexual m. Type a (f in f) falls in love with type b (m in m) and b leaves as if nothing had happened, so that a gets horribly furious. A fusion of lower lines with upper lines in appearance. Where? It is possible. Natalia is not lying. How strange. And what is she doing dancing around, as they say in Spain?

Request: is there anything that may have happened in the patterns ‘Sos del Rey Católico’?

It’s many years after that I fall on Ines de la Fressange. And I start laughing again. Ines de la Fressange and the Russian Prince links the immediate imaginary environment I put her into to … Natalia Vodianova. Without remembering these conversations, I make up a Natasha who is spying around, as usual, in Paris; there is an affective trouble somewhere and documents or pictures escape while I have greatest fun pushing Ines de la Fressange pictures around for her to look like a real man and a Chinese outspeaker specifies “a woman and not a Kendo model”. The spy is picked up by a helicopter in Les Halles while the Russian Prince tries getting a clearer insight into what has happened.

Poor Ines de la Fressange really looks like pushed against the wall. What has happened? Documents seem to have escaped general attention: texts of law, business, trials, I will even find a CV in internet. She seems to have lost her business I had heard of while I was still in Paris. The Russian Prince continues happily his researches. And concludes that the affair is more than bizarre. The hooligan menaces to find a pret a porter collection that should prove that she was actually doing everything and someone pretended to deal with her as if she were a secretary.

A Russian in Ines de la Fressange’s environment? There is someone in the whereabouts of fashion. Someone called Natalia Vodianova. Guerlain? Top model. A few reseraches lead quickly to the result that the one who was selling flowers in a Russian market was actually linked to a soft pornographic environment. Hm. And what is she doing in Paris?

A video shows another Natalia Vodianova. This is Natalia Vodianova, I think and start laughing again remembering this time more precisely diffuse clouds of former conversations.

The memory of these conversations will reflect themselves in texts that are put under the general label of ‘evaluation du concours’ in my newly opened ‘Roger Vivier’ site. “My name is Sonja Kasten. I have been payed 50 dolar in order to write the evaluations …” are finally signed by Natalia Vodianova.

These texts, or the mood the texts are written in, have nothing to do with the Guerlain Natalia Vodianova. Two with the same name? Caviar and pornography under the roof of the same name? How strange.

If Natalia ever learns about that, I wouldn’t feel very sure in France anymore, tomorrow. Natalia Vodianova is married to an English Lord, a page says. Schuster says she will get married to the Russian owner of Chelsea (?). Natalia? Never in the world. I mean, as far as I vaguely know her. An English Lord? A football club owner? The marriage is postponed.

Yes. There is a Natalia Vodianova in Paris linked to fashion and another who quite frozen sends greetings from a video. What does it all have to do with Ines de la Fressange?

I had started taking pictures from videos. Time had come to remember Ines de la Fressange who I had neglected pushing Prince Vladimir to the borders of oblivion. Ines de la Fressange. 1987. 1988. Probably 1997. Around 2003? An own pret a porter collection already satisfies the hooligan. Around 1997? 1998? Probably just before the commercial trouble that takes place in 1999, if I’m not wrong.

I go back home to work out the pictures. Marvel. Natalia Vodianova. Natalia Vodianova 1. Ah, yes, and Natalia Vodianova just behind. Natalia Vodianova 2. That’s nice, Madame Ines de la Fressange, really two Vodianovas under the same roof. What is ‘my’ Vodianova doing in Paris in a fashion show? (You’ll see, the day I’ll tell your father.)

The Vodianova video (the real Vodianova’s) shows clearly at least three body guards. Three in oldest KGB manner. What does someone with three body guards linked or not to caviar, followed by someone arising from a soft pornographic environment? Do you really don’t know who Vodianova is, Ines de la Fressange? I mean, I really wouldn’t like to have her father on my back. Really not, you see, I mean, really not.

If it is not a forlorn cousin of a forlorn cousin of yours, may I guess Vodianova has run away and has landed accidentally in Ines de la Fressange co. asking for a job as a model? Don’t make me laugh. Thus, is it possible you don’t know where the other Vodianova comes from? But where did that one come from? A present of the new partners of the company? Perhaps and more than probable. But why is Natalia Vodianova using the name of Natalia Vodianova?

Ah, ma chere Natalia, the day I’ll tell your father, you’ll see.

At that moment Natalia is running away from a country where men get married to men and women to women and she’s horribly afraid she will no have to get married to a woman, too. Consequently she goes to a country where she is sure only men get married to women (she asks for the legislation) and falls in love with … Ines de la Fressange. Who very much looks like a boy at those times, but that is parts of the a social quarrel inside of which you have to position yourself.

That looks very much like it. I mean, it corresponds to the psychic type of Natalia and to the stories she was telling to me. The signal was Ines de la Fressange’s logo, I didn’t know of then.

That’s what I have. The rest is construction: Ines de la Fressange thinks it horribly funny someone making such fun, she can’t but take for humour in an almost extravagant version, and asks the other Vodianova to translate a letter written in Russian. A little bit puzzled she decides to answer to it in Russian, too. Probably Natalia calls Ines de la Fressange ‘My English Lord’ for reasons that should be cleared up later. Ines de la Fressange says that Natalia is sharing a love story with her for evaluation and answers in the name of the English Lord. Actually the English Lord does not exist, I would guess.

One day, Natalia says very proudly that she has to come to Russia to be introduced to her parents, thing that terrifies de la Fressange who cuts short to the whole story, this time, really puzzled. While Natalia accuses de la Fressange of being homosexual (man) de la Fressange asks whether it is possible in Russia for women to get married to women so openly. Let us say. Cutting short to it makes Natalia furious who will from then on develop national plans of revenge. Quite succesfully.

And the other? From translation to translation the other has had access to personal information contained in a computer. Probably of irrelevant nature it is though enough to push de la Fressange, again, against the wall. “She is going to use Vodianova’s name in Paris and will reveal everything if de la Fressange says who is who.” Actually de la Fressange will never be asked about who is who and escapes the accusation of complicity in exchange of identity. I would say.

Now, Natalia, really try making differences before involving serious people into such affairs.

Natasha meets Sask at Sos del rey Católico. Sask’s patterns of understanding have been transfered through Hannah, probably, to Paris. I will get the proof much later. Poor Ines de la Fressange, I think. (Really, Natalia.)

I know that already in 2001. Intuitively it already looks as if such an incredibly funny situation had really taken place. Really, I mean. The logic of interaction shows patterns of possible transfer in exchange of identity.

What has the Russian Prince to do with Natalia Vodianova? Probably the same than what links a logic implying high treason from a ‘x’ (further associated to a possible Federman) to Salif in Damas. This is a logic of interaction like ‘Sos del rey Católico’. What is the reality behind?

With fused patterns of understanding a logic of interaction looks like a possible reality. I had solved the suitcase affair, I remember, I had had horrible fun with it. If these lines, than alfa in that, with this, and logically, I’m taken for the Russian spy. If I don’t accept the deal I just have to watch out that no one else does. Why? It’s rather getting out of my jurisdiction. Love affairs and horrible misunderstandings, well, it’s my affair when it pleases me, I’m tracking possible responsibles of a chemistry traffic towards Middle Orient and little things like that, ah, yes, don’t forget the novel. High treason? Is it? My knowledge is rather unsufficient on these matters.

The problem is that it is there, then, exactly then. It’s not later like the Ines de la Fressange affair that has no name yet, I had promised to Natalia I would deal with. Later. Later perhaps the spatial structures will have been reinforced. Later perhaps there will be no time fusion. Later is horribly far away.

Let us do as if it were true, I have no choice. If it isn’t it doesn’t matter, actually my quite discreet presence will not move a wave of the water. That it is true does not imply I should get involved into it, I continue telling myself. Well. Perhaps I don’t know what it is about (I would conclude much later that it must have been the newly developped israeli refraction bomb) but it is classified. I can clearly see a signal that very much looks like a very red mark on the envelop that is classified and very much so. A top secret. Wow. The best of all. Independently of how much I would have classified the contents myself I can’t even see from so far, or I rather don’t understand (it looks like little pictures with many cyphers all around looking like physics formula I pretend to identify as locations of defense points around borders).

Can something like this (I pass information), be possibly of national importance? I mean, shall I care if the so called Federman does sell peanuts to Russia pretending it is new technology. What the problem if it is a bomb? I mean, are they not going to sell it tomorrow anyhow? Shall Natasha get it for free if she’s so clever. Is it a bomb? (Natasha is going to make a bomb explode at King David – new fusion in identification like with the Russian prince: it is a Russian ‘princess’ who falls in love with someone she calls an English Lord.) Someone is going to pass information on a bomb to Natasha. Natasha is a symbol for the SVR. What Natasha does actually, I really don’t know. The last time I had news she was going through horribly boring papers in an old office and told many stories to her psychiatrist I used to call Yurevna. I don’t know whether Yurevna is a psychiatrist, either. As far as I know her father belonged to the KGB and she has just integrated all sorts of practices into her common behaviour that may make you think she’s a spy. Perhaps she isn’t. I adore calling her the ‘Russian spy who came from the cold’.

Is a bomb of national importance, Natasha? She says, they would pay a lot for it. To pay a lot is not for free. And how do you know it is worth something? I mean, I can make many pictures in my laptop, too. Because, she says, it is top secret. Ah. So easy. And if I put many top secrets on anodine documents in order to confuse the enemy? I mean, you could be cheated.

I don’t like all that. I don’t like it at all. Lines imply a link of Federman to someone linked to the army, who may have the documents. Federman knows someone who is linked to the Russian mafia who is a contact of the SVR. That’s what it looks like. It’s difficult to evaluate the situation. What happens if Russia gets the bomb? It could sell it to Syria. To Syria? Or to Iran. To Iran who sells to Syria? That’s a nice dag in the back.

I understand, Natalia, that everything is horribly confusing, but the identification of your Russian Lord as having the same patterns of understanding than Sask should (?) not justify such a horrible misbehaviour.

Well. It’s true that something has made me horribly afraid. Look, Natasha, if Sask is accused of high treason after and is shot, who am I going to give my proof to after having made so many efforts for over ten years? ‘Do they shoot people for that?’ I don’t know, I guess. ‘What does she want the bomb for?’ I don’t know. If I see clearly what I think I’m seeing she’s wanting to exchange it for a divorce. ‘A divorce?’ Yes. It doesn’t look nice to get divorced like that over there. It’s different if you’ve built a highly sophisticated bomb. Nobody will dare saying anything to you. (Natasha laughs.) ‘That’s a reason.’

We make an agreement. ‘Let us say that I try stopping the deal. And you, you try getting the bomb. If you get it, it’s God’s will, if you don’t, the same. If Sask is shot after, I will have to give my prove … to you, for example. Perhaps she doesn’t deserve a divorce, after all.’

The patterns of interaction with Russia look like that a little bit before I’m confronted to a complete lack of memory concerning it.

According to my information the betrayer is no one else but Sask’s husband himself. Of course a husband can be a logical interaction, too, like Natasha’s cousin, but whatever the man is, I have a picture of him that has the same accuracy than the ones of Wilheim, Benji or Yusif. His name is Rafael. That could be a nick name.

Of course it won’t take long after having met Wilheim and the one latter possibly identified as Federman, that Rafael appears, too. Such fun.

It will be the reason to postpone the travel back once again.

Rafael sits down beside me and starts a conversation. I never tell lies. It’s the best way for it to look as if I were. ‘Your name is Rafael? I’ve a picture of yours in Greece.’ He speaks Spanish with Argentinean accent.

Of course Wihleim believes already I’m Russian, but that’s because she doesn’t speak Georgian. And nobody but really nobody has given her permission to listen to other people’s conversations. The Georgian boy had said his mother was Russian. I said, ‘my mother is Russian, too’. It’s as horribly symbolic as for his mother, too, but Wilheim is sure that both his mother and mine are Russian. But what the damn is she doing today sitting there beside me, somewhere else than usually, while the lounge is full with a group of Georgian? It really invites to tell symbolic lies.

‘What are these flags doing there at the entry?’ ‘It’s of the people who come.’ ‘And this one?’ ‘It’s from Georgia.’ Ah.

Rafael come sback again. This time he has a suitcase he rather forgets while standing up in order to leave because, he says ‘there has been a bomb attack outside’. How tempting. I look at the suitcase and calculate that I will need about a few seconds in order to leave with it. Of course there must be increased security. Nice to leave the place with the suitcase, where do I go after? Independently of how much Rafael may be intentionally doing what he does, how many chances are there a secret camera may not be following whatever happens? As far as I know there are at least three people who are following that kind of movements. Were. Mini Minoulis has just looked away. “There was a bomb attack,” he says. Probably I will leave with my name and a new suitcase tomorrow without anyone being the slightest aware of it. And if it is a trap and Rafael accuses me of having stolen the suitcase? Well, let us open it before and send the documents via post office to Greece and make the suitcase disappear. Who am I? Nobody knows. I have no registration at the hotel. The camera picture shows a clear deformation angle that will never give a matching picture inside of another computer. I’m sure. It’s more or less what I was studying all these years. How to escape to Sask’s security system.

When Rafael arrives I’m still there, thing that seems to cause an indefinite uneasiness in him who seems not to know what to say. A little after, who I identify as his daughter (nice to meet you, Sask, I think) appears and tells him (I guess) that it is time to leave. It wasn’t a bomb attack it was car crash. He stands up. ‘Don’t forget the suitcase,’ she says, pointing somehow unwillingly at the object.

They leave. Rafael was often there but will never aproach again. Actually, only once he will do as if I reminded him of something and greet me, from far.

Natasha will arrive a few weeks later. She’s just in front, with the nun and a brother, I say. It’s in the evening when she arrives and I remember a machine that could read psychic types that were lighter or darker. There can be no machine to make psychic types become lighter or darker. It really looks as if there were, and her brother is going to sell it to Israel. Would be fun, such a machine. Natasha. What is she doing here again? Natasha? A russian spy. There is really little security around here. You didn’t say, Hannah, there was increased security? I amuse myself putting people into Natasha’s machine to see whether it works: that one is dark, that one is light, that one is a little bit in the middle. Now, that’s insulting. And why do you believe it? It’s nothing but a machine. What should your machine be good for, Natasha?

Nice to meet you, Natasha. Hope I will see you back again. You promised you would teach me Russian. They will leave in the morning. Either Natasha could not sell her machine or she didn’t get the bomb. That makes a star less, Natasha, will have to find something as compensation now. What do you think of the Tsetsenian leader? I will leave something around for you, somewhere. Sure you’ll know where it comes from. Won’t loose a star because of me, and yes, I confess, it must have been my fault.

Only twice again I would identify people in the surroundings as Russian. A woman with two children, a girl and a boy. I will tell to Yusif that these cigarettes were obviously coming from … Germany. She, the girl says: “That she wants to be like everyone else and have a home.” I understand. A home? Dom is a house, it’s about all I know. Well that looks strange, say you stay three days at King David and have no home? A home like all the others? And what does yours look like? In any case she speaks a very beautiful Russian, I conclude, whatever the conversation is about.

Another group, I say to K, belongs obviously to the Russian mafia, and mean that I really don’t understand what we do surrounded by all types of mafia. They leave almost immediately. Have been shouting around too loudly.

As no other Russian seems to want to invade my newly conquered territory anymore, I guess attempts to get the mysterious item have stopped as failing recurrently. It’s obvious that someone has been trying to cheat us. No, I didn’t do anything, Natasha.

Must be God’s will. Hope she gets her divorce now.

Don’t believe it. I have a lot of fantasy. And there is no better way to make you believe that something is true but by surely proving how true other things are. Ah, yes. There must be the cameras, still, there. Mini Minoulis has left in the meantime. I don’t think anyone will make the effort to verify.

Yes. And you, Frau Wilheim, you don’t listen to other people’s conversations. It’s unpolite. Or learn Georgian first. Look at that. Really wants to make of me a Russian spy. I.

It’s true that there was something very funny about the attempt whole, even horribly funny, although the underlying matters were actually quite serious. Perhaps we will come to an agreement before it all happens.

In the depth, a depth I never talked about in 1992 and I hardly considered in 1995, the whole question turns around how to present facts in ways they may be convincing for whoever concerned. Hannah was right. Nobody would ever believe her.

I tend to universalize particular matters in order to solve a particular matter and consequently I had to go through a complete analysis of everything in order to try solving the how to say what Hannah says in such ways that it may be believed by at least one.

The conquest of Jerusalem becomes quickly from a personal matter, the understanding of finality as inner finality, a more general question. What appears as reality scenario if all concepts are put virtually there where they should is not very nice. It looks almost impossible to share it with anyone. The idea is born to insert a foreign logic into Sask’s pattern of understanding. Pakistan conquers Israel: a logic that should break acquired patterns and allow the restructuring of these in such ways so as to make it possible to make a ‘strange’ understanding of things at least credible. Does this happen, than you may say that Pakistan has actually conquered Jerusalem.

If this happens, Pakistan’s ancestral claim will perhaps be listened to. At least the difference between a teritorial and a non territorial claim will be easier to make. It’s something.

Is it successful? It’s very difficult to say. It’s almost impossible to say, then. No, it is impossible.

Do I really aim at France’s total destruction? It’s evidence that the fact of sharing a same view on reality puts definite barriers to the expansion in thought, expansion which is becoming horribly political by the way, of France’s pretension there is consequence none.

How does it happen? I presume that Pakistani inherent logic does allow, if a small device is put into general patterns, the rational thinking of the world of soul. If this is so, than the structure of reality resulting of the rational absorption of elements arising from the psychic world inside of more formal pattern is adequate to what there actually is. Even consequences become visible, clearly.

Do I presume that Israel has lost the link? I seem to presume such precisely because it will be unable to understand Hannah’s message, which will prove more than true. Incapability in recognition of truth implies distorted angle in the working out of reality.

I guess that the quarrel whose horrible reality has lead to the happenings of second world war is still alive. A logical mistake. Essences, universals, beings, accidents. In Spain the difference is carefully made between what is of essence or nature (ser) and what is accidentally, temporarily (estar). Based on this very simple distinction it becomes almost impossible to comdamn or judge what is, as it is. You become wicked because of an act of will, what you are the rest will have to deal with. You have done something that is bad, you can’t be essentially bad as such. I mean, you may choose to become essentially bad.

Having been through all laws of ancient testament and their general absorption by christian cultures I conclude that the axe that will make everything turn is the interpretation of the condamnation of homosexuality, reason why I will spend such a lot of time analyzing the question. See how easy. Are you born homosexual or do you become homosexual? If you are born such, than you are and if you are you can’t condamn it. You may become wicked: not accepted in a general social environment, you may use a natural disposition in order to justify a general revolt (Lorca, El Público).

Are you born or do you become homosexual? If you are born homosexual and you are condamned to death for it, than you may start listing all those who may be condamned to death because they are born what they are born: Jews, Gipsies, black men, whatever. Perhaps even communists are born communists, at the end. A quite wicked suspension of the answer to the almost cynical question whether a disposition is inherent or acquired, that expands itself towards patterns of thought. Precisely. Is a disposition not determined by patterns of thought, were they sexual or political?

To my understanding the fusion of thought between Jews and German happens there. They will put the formal universal in front of the corresponding judgement: all Jews are bad, all Gipsies are bad, etc. and leave the consequence take its source in … Jewish ways of understanding, or, of interpretation.

This hasn’t changed.

The German original logic shows something like a knot made on a very distorted six wings logic that shows similarity with China’s fundamental structures of organizing reality in inner awareness. It is easy to recognize homosexual patterns in Brunhilde (Nibelungenlied) crossed to Kriemhilde (female in ff) and the same in Siegfried (male in mm) and Gunther (f in mm), with a strange benjaminite type in Hagen. All get happily fused and confused in social obligations and representing needs and desires, thing that finally leads to the death of them all except of Brundhilde’s. Brunhilde, a clear male in ff lines, furious because of the trap she has been put, could be almost said the only original surviving  type of German identity in the mythological structuring of soul. From a certain point of view, the clearing up of the German identity is based on the careful study of the Brunhilde type all over history, who, after all, may finish by clearing up the knot, thus allowing a coming back to a more reasonable behaviour. This implies the largest tolerance towards some kind of expression of homosexual behaviour in act, as the fusion caused by the knot does not allow the abstract dealing with the question anymore.

Pressure made by badly understood religious obligations provokes a repression that leads to the subjective impression it were impossible to get out of the knot anymore. These obligations are said to be based on Jewish Ancient Testament. The movement of repression locates an enemy and finishes by wanting to put an end to it.

Is it really written in Ancient Testament? Why does it furthermore affect Gipsies and communists, mentally disturbed and physically handicapped?

It is not written anywhere in Ancient Testament. What seems to be condamned is something else, a getting out of general order in order to make prevail a random nature. I would understand. The Jewish, to my understanding, has been caught in a natural logic that is blocking all access of the psychic world to rational patterns of understanding.

Natural enemy of Germany. Natural enemy of China. Natural enemy of all nation basing reality on psychic reality: the muslim world, Russia. Doesn’t look nice. Natural allies: I would say Korea and the Czech Republic. It’s not very much to prevail in time. Korea is refered to China. The Czech Republic to Russia. Who is Israel refered to? To no one. So nice. Possible natural allies with Spain, but links are cut. Possible natural allies with the United States. It looks like walking on edges, but it is still a possibility. That won’t last long if it gets allies with France, for example.

The extension of the natural wicked in German minds will find no other explanation but in what was at the origin of the knot, a long time ago, thousands of years ago. History is memory that does never disappear. What we have done comes back, what we have misunderstood determines what we do.

If Israel gets too near to France or Holland, you may say it has signed its own condamnation to death.

To say: if patterns of reason are nothing but forms that hold themselves in patterns of sexual relationship, you may still say you may deal with reality by supporting a word by its coresponding meaning. It’s not that you will be very happy because you have to reduce the activity of your consciousness to the outer world, but you survive more or less. General patterns of USA in self determination. Essential structure of whatever social or state organization straining on commerce.

These patterns are hold by the principle identity in patterns of law (Spain) regulate interactions and orders society. If identity is doubted upon (France) or law refused its regulating order (Holland) the very patterns used by those mentioned above in order to deal with reality, disappear.

The first thing a disappearing nation is going to refuse identity to is its very disappearing.

It’s not to say that the USA or Russia are bad. It is that for me, as German, for example, the USA are not convenient. Russia is though. Russia is not convenient for Israel. The USA or Spain are. France and Holland are convenient for no one.

There is a still possible, justifiable, in differences as long as they are integrated into general patterns. There are general ways of thinking that have no justification at all. This and what is resulting of it is clearly visible inside of a six wings logic, whose intuitive dimension is developped by China hundreds of years ago. Soul is structured as if homosexual logics formed the wings of a main, let us say, heterosexual logic. If they are inherent to a fundamental structure they must be justified and healthy. But they belong to soul. How do they find a place in the outer world? The answer given by different nations all over history is very similar with variables: the man homosexual is confronted to death (The warriors of Thebe, still visible as apprehension in the insertion of homosexual elements in Spanish bull fighting) and the woman homosexual becomes a ‘pythia’ (oracle sayer; thing that becomes in time singer or writer or poet or other).

In this that they have a function they keep their sexual or affective life as a private fact. Actually, it is of no one’s concern. Affective life is not the fundamental axe their life is turning around (thing that is only possible if there are children arising from it) but an accident turning around a main axe determined as function inside of a social whole. If the warrior becomes a detective and shares his confidences with a butler (British solution) or the poet becomes an actress is of very little importance. Thing is that they have a place where they are and do not only not disturb the rest but contribute happily to the keeping alive of national psychic resources.

Why death for men? Because many societies seem to esteem that a human life can only be ordered correctly inside of the finality of the confrontation to death. To the fact that we die, let us say. This awareness is the only one that allows the correct structuring of all the rest. It situates us correctly.

And why poetry for women? Because intention uses a symbolic language that is detectable as such by some who, in awareness of other people’s intentions may communicate, test, evaluate those for the rest inside of the creation of images that may make other participate to what is going on.

Healthy societies keep these very slight balances inside of the awareness there are things not everyone does understand.

When these are not respected or functions start shifting (there is an obvious attempt of robbing out ff lines of their function little before the disappearing of Byzantium) that is quickly accompanied by a substitution of finality in the confrontation to death to a finality in appearance (France through fashion and other), you can say that the very angle through which reality is considered is unsufficient, lacking of accuracy and becomes dangerous. In this case it is obvious that reality is evaluated only through what appears being strictly incapable of taking into consideration what arises of psychic resources.

If Hannah says that France is allowing the development of chemistry producing kamikaze reactions and used against Israel, you, Sask, will never believe it.

In any case it seems to me that Ancient Testament says nothing else but what I show. What it seems to condamn is the invasion of territories or the lack of definition of these. Not specifying it keeps the privacy of the concerned not giving them a socially structured role in appearance.

From this point of view it can be said that features of the six wings logic are to be found in Ancient Testament, too, thing that finishes by conforting the theory of a Chinese contact at a moment or other of Israeli history. If this is so, the interpretation according to which there is a submission to natural rule is of foreign influence or of not fought against inner deviating current that finishes by imposing itself.

I define Islam as the compound of rules arisen from the refusal to submit to foreign influence as this is how Islam is born. Mohammed refuses to submit to the teaching of a Catholic monk who wants to tell him the truth was written in Gospels. Inspired, he writes a text himself and submits both to the counsel, which finishes by acepting as theirs what has been written by Mohammed, latter said Koran.

The fundamental source of Islam is the determination of the self as such (thus of psychic dimension) against all attempt of imposition of foreign rules. This is what justifies a Chihad, which extends itself towards all those who are same with those who have tried to impose a foreign rule.

Pakistan introduces thus the six wings logic back into Israel much better than China: there is no path of demonstration. What there is, is a core in principle maintaining the need of being oneself as such. In the depth, the same: Pakistan rules inside of the six wings logic inside of common muslim patterns.

That’s the general pattern of thought.

Furthermore, it is embedded inside of the frame according to which a nation lacking of identity or in desmay has to be put under the pressure of its possible disappearing in order to be obliged to take sources of identity in itself.

Perhaps France is still. But it is not visible. Only a wall made of imminent death may prove whether there are resources of identity or not.

Death in patterns of image means that what wants to stay invisible has become of everyone’s knowledge. Israel and Pakistan in help of France, the worse hypothesis I can be conronted to. If Israel embeds patterns of the six wings logic, it will ‘see’ what happens. If it sees what happens it will be reveiled and this will push France against the wall.

My problem. A rational being listens to criticism his own ways. Some do as if they hadn’t listened and think about it twice, after. Some get angry, first. Some profit of the occasion in order to place a critic themselves. There are many ways to say that something is going wrong and many ways to react to it. Chinese tend to point with a finger at themselves in order to say how wrong others are. “I told a horrible lie”, may be a lie saying to the other that he has been caught … lying.

France, inside of the structures as given in very shifted six wings structures with lacking principle, understands a pointing at evidence as an agression and Chinese as self accusation. It tends to want to destroy those exactly it esteems having the power to reveal possible mistakes.

How will Israel say what is? Certainly not speaking Chinese. A restoration of rational patterns with inserted six wings logic in psychic dimension increases the possibility of a French agression on Israel and … Pakistan.

Shall they defend themselves. But it’s something you should not forget. Finally I’m at the origin of such unusual events. Somehow.

In fact, in a little bit sophisticated way, I continue working at a possible restoration of the Israeli/German relationship. I can’t but agree on the fact that not only it is an absurd to pretend nothing has happened or that it happened a long time ago, I prefer a clear hostility until something is cleared up to an excessively generous opening of doors that may nothing but cause the repeating of situations as given before.

The path of restoration of relationships I’m working at is the building up of a bridge that may buy up to a certain extent what has caused the trouble before. I don’t think this is possible as a ‘general’. It is possible only as a ‘particular’. I in relationship to another whose existence is for the time being more intuitive than real. Perhaps this may affect others here and there, but it is something I can’t presume a priori.

I’m wrong and you are wrong, but fault is my side, is the underlying principle. As fault is my side I will have to buy up your wrong as mine and then, I may esteem, if my proposal is accepted, we will share a common view on things allowing the restoration of relationships.

On personal basis it was all Sask’s fault and this will help. It’s not nice to have to take the weight and burden of fault all the time.

In fact, the question is to establish whether it is possible to like or love or be friends with a mortal enemy. I think it is but that it is very, very difficult.

What is the plan while arriving to Jerusalem a third time?

As far as I can see it now it is to profit of a general situation implying increased security measures in order to ‘poison’ Sask’s ears with a series of words that do nothing but say the Pakistani version of the six wings logic. I’m the device in the middle. The structuring of intuition is not possible in given patterns. My bizarre quite ambiguous nature that does transfer into words what is of psychic reality should fit the second quite void identity pole in Sask.

You are free, Sask. Say yes or no.

War in Irak is near. I say that Sask must be preparing a general war profiting of the situation. Increased security measures due to possible reactions arising from Israel’s positive engagement in America’s intervention. What am I doing? I’m recording.

Hannah says that security measures are increased. I don’t want to believe it. ‘Should be the chance of our lives if everything works according to plans.’

My idea, and this I am quite convinced of, is that Sask’s patterns of thought are ‘ruling’. Independently of whatever the person is doing, this is to say, of the place occupied in the scales and ranges of society, the patterns have been evaluated as determining general patterns as given in the context. This means that whoever around there lives in a reality compound that holds these structures for a governing principle. Consequently everyone is living inside of a relation to those inside of logics that are not many. With a few exceptions. Shanee, for example, has strictly no apprehension of those patterns. But they are a few.

The lines through which x establishes a relationship to me are the lines through which communication is established to Sask as I’m using bridging structures to that. Inside of which logic? Lines of bad consciousness with gun powder structuring logic inside of a more general 1 1 logic. This compound builds up an artificial relation in reverted complementarity (in f, structures of understanding mm, f to m through neg in appearance) and whatever I’m recording will build up a fantastic reality Sask must be definitely seduced by. Unconsciously, on top.

I’m recording is a lie, of course, but increased security measures will make exactly that small mistake. Hannah says. I never believe her.

It makes the most bizarre reality configuration I may have ever thought of. I will never know whether it results of the fact that these kind of patterns conduct to the omission of a certain number of more general structuring concepts so that little subsidiary facts appear as reality determining, leading to the most chaotic and anarchic reality configuration you may think of.

I’m still I and I don’t actually know who I’m exactly. Pictures Hannah had talked to me about appear on the ground or I’m lead to them by accidentally strolling around. As usual, what is an appalling evidence for me can’t be confronted to the outer world: why should anyone believe me? On top, my literary, imaginary characters appear one after the other in front of me.

I’m still finding things, as I had done it before. But I have made a mistake. That’s what I said, Natasha, it’s not that easy to rob out others of what they have or do as the structuring logics are different. Sask’s marvelous garden, a logic of transformation, in my patterns, have become a superposition of realities.

As I have no awareness of spatial reality, I can’t transform a notion or logic into a something that is outside, made with someone’s hands, let us say. What I understand of this transformation logic inside of my patterns is that feelings, notions, intuitive impressions become … images. Well done work, I transform so well, that I have the exact pictures of quite a lot of people inside of my memory stocks before arriving. It’s not what I intended to do. Really not. Even if the awareness of reality has been diminished to zero due to the so called fusion of membranes, one thing is obvious: my mistake is more than real.

I will have to correct my mistake. I really don’t want to live in a reality that looks like a mirror image of my imagination. The stupid question of how then all the rest is linked to reality will become worrying.

On top, there are other things that have happened and will happen. I have transformed a computer logic into an understanding structuring logic. It looks as if intuition was capturing signals, messages sent through the cyberspace. It can’t be true, but it really looks like. It really looks like. Is it?

I don’t know but it is obvious that this is the only way to catch Sask visibly. I really want to get out of my dilemma. I don’t want it happen anymore that I synthesize a notion and find a corresponding object without being able to share my wisdom with anyone else. I have to find an object in such ways that it becomes obvious for at least one that what I was searching was really what I found. This is why I translated the computer logic into structures of understanding, not to catch signals. If Sask arrives there where I’m inside of a 1 1 logic then I will be able to transfer this happening into electronic coordinates (no mistake this time) in such ways that it will clearly appear that I have found a Sask who was really the Sask I was searching for.

What? Sask comes. I know why. Will Sask? No. But if I put a search with characterestics and this leads to the finding of your picture, Sask, than you know that I found what I was searching for. How complicated.

In the meantime I’m catching signals. Actually I will always know a little bit beforehand which movie is going to be shown.

Natasha will never believe I had her picture before. But she will believe I saw her in Jerusalem for a few minutes and I memorized her features. It’s impossible, Natasha, no one memorizes features so quickly. But she was in Jerusalem and that was true, and consequently the rest is true, too.

There is something else. The lines I’m using to arrive in Jerusalem are ‘Ines de la Fressange, chanel 5’. The exact meaning of that is difficult to determine. Or, yes? Chanel 5 is a perfume chosen by Coco Chanel among others that were presented to her by a French perfumer who lived at the Imperial Court in Russia. I have all reasons to believe the perfume is stolen from the Russian Court. ‘Ines de la Fressange, chanel 5’: the possibility exists a transfer of logics makes that actually Sask is … in France. Am I in France?

The worse hypothesis is always true. If Sask’s logic is in France then Ines de la Fressange logic is in Israel (it was all Hannah’s fault, as usual), interacting somehow (fusion of patterns that may cause a desaster if my Pakistani logic arrives there where it should not): I have to deal with reality as if Sask’s logic were in a French environment in order to calculate possible side effects.

I had thought I would be able to deal with it all in satisfactory ways. But that was because I was really sure I had made it all up. I will be very tired at the end. And will accidentally land in France. I will have to fish Ines de la Fressange out of Sask, on top, I conclude. But who was she?

I will leave for Israel February the 22^nd 2003.