Murder in the Cathedral, part 1
by Douglas Mercer
ADOLF HITLER KNEW the supreme importance of art and buildings and cultural symbols. In his diaries, Goebbels routinely expressed his great dismay that what to him were important matters were being neglected by the Führer as he stayed up all night obsessing about a balustrade in an opera house in a provincial German City. But Hitler was right: Culture is the best way to effect a rule and an order. Speer said over and over again in his journal that Hitler believed that great buildings went hand in hand with his territorial conquests. The latter staked the claim and the former marked the territory.
Hitler said that his buildings were words in stone, and he might have said the same for the paintings, sculptures, and music he tirelessly promoted — they were words in art, an ideology made manifest.
The pièce de résistance of this work was to have been a colossal cultural space in the town of Linz. It would have had the largest library, the largest theater, the largest opera house, the largest museums, the best collections of sculptures and paintings, it would have had the largest and best of everything — the largest and best in the world.
Speer made Hitler a model of what Linz would look like after this colossal building project, and Hitler never tired of sitting at the side of it and dreaming of this world.
It was going to be called the European Cultural Center.
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The National Cathedral in Washington, DC is where the swells gather to pray to a God they no longer believe in; they do, however, believe very much in what they take to be the ideology of that God: helping the stranger, kowtowing to the wretched of the Earth, overturning all European traditions, and ending the long hegemony of the White race.
The National Cathedral is an Episcopalian Church, a denomination so deracinated, so drained of content, so unassuming in ideology, that all other religions were happy to accept the sect’s cathedral in the capital as the “people’s church of America.”
If a big shot member of the elite dies, or a President dies, the swells will all gather, the Gay Mulatto and his man-wife will dress in black and sit in the front row, and in hushed tones Brian Williams will tell America that this is an august occasion, and then he will tell them what to think.
When that warmonger John McCain died, the one who called his constituents “crazies” because they wanted a secure border, the denationalized elites of this country showed up in full force, pulled out all the stops, and said words “aimed at Trump.” It was reported at the time:
Washington luminaries, former presidents, and the family of John McCain gathered Saturday at Washington National Cathedral to honor and remember the late senator in a grand display of pomp and unity in the nation’s capital.
Among the tributes — including from former McCain rivals and Presidents George W. Bush and Barack Obama — was an emotional remembrance from McCain’s daughter Meghan that included several pointed and unmistakable references to Trump.
John McCain’s daughter is an execrable human being and a big fat pig. She has inherited her father’s unbridled lust for war and his disdain for patriotic Americans who don’t subscribe to the elite paradigm of more wars, free trade, and no border — the treasonous trifecta.
And at the gala events where the bigwigs hobnob in somber tones, you can be sure George W. Bush will show up to trample on the faces of those who made him President twice. He’s a swell’s swell, so everything he says will be be a slam at the survival mechanisms of White people — guaranteed.
You see, the National Cathedral is the place for elite confabs, where they gather together in great smugness and extreme self-satisfaction. And when they are conferring between breaks you can be sure they are devising ever new and more devious plots to absolutely destroy everything your average White man holds dear.
It’s the “people’s church of America,” after all.
And, according to them, smearing fecal matter all over helpless White people, stealing everything they have including their children, and then wiping them from the face of the Earth has by now become a great and unquestionable national purpose.
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The Cathedral Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul in the City and Diocese of Washington, commonly known as Washington National Cathedral, is an American cathedral of the Episcopal Church. The structure is of Neo-Gothic design closely modeled on the famous English Gothic style of the late fourteenth century. The Protestant Episcopal Cathedral Foundation under the first seven Bishops of Washington erected the cathedral under a charter passed by the United States Congress in 1893. Construction began in 1907, when the foundation stone was laid in the presence of President Theodore Roosevelt and was completed under George Bush the Elder.
So it has plenty of tradition behind it; all the better, they think — what better place to hollow out tradition than a place that is permeated with it? What better place to palm off genocidal inversions of tradition as tradition itself?
This cathedral, in some ways, is just the kind of thing Hitler admired; a great and long-term building project which represented a “hall of fame” of the nation. But, as in all things in America, the ideology written in that stone has changed dramatically since 1907.
Planners hoped it would play a role similar to Westminster Abbey. They wanted it to be a national shrine and a venue for great services. For much of the cathedral’s history, this was captured in the phrase “a house of prayer for all people.” In more recent times the phrases “national house of prayer” and “spiritual home for the nation” have been used.
Also, “a place where groveling White men fellate blacks and Jews” has been periodically bandied about.
It is really the avatar of America’s civic religion, its unofficial state religion. But since roughly the accession to power of the Bad Roosevelt, strange incense is being burned there, to strange and sinister new gods.
It is, as they say, a church for “great national purposes.”
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One of the current “great national purposes” enshrined in the Cathedral is to make hallowed the memory of a drug-dealing sodomite twink rent-boy. When Matthew Shepard was found dead in Wyoming it didn’t take him long to be vaulted into the national “gay” pantheon alongside other homosexual “martyrs” like Harvey Milk and the “brave men of Stonewall,” who after all just wanted to left alone to drink their swill and infect one another with horrid diseases.
Shepard, in fact, was a martyr’s martyr; he exemplified just the kind of story they like to tell at the National Cathedral, a salutary one for the good people who go there, but a cautionary one as well, a reminder that in this great “anti-racist,” tolerant, and accepting world that they are fast building there remains a residue of hate, of Neanderthal throwbacks so evil that when they see a “beautiful young gay man,” it makes them so mad they have to crucify him. (And remember, his martyrdom happened in an all-White state, too. It figures!) “He was killed because he was gay (sob!), killed by homophobic bigots.”
Fast forward to reality.
None of that is true.
The bronze plaque that honors Matthew Shepard was installed in St. Joseph’s Chapel at the National Cathedral to mark his final resting place.
Truth was that Sheppard was a meth pusher and got mixed up with some bad dudes; it’s the oldest story in the book. And one those dudes was pimping him out while they practiced vice versa sodomy together; naturally, Shepard was an AIDS-ridden speed freak whore.
A real family story, is it not?
But as the Guardian put it:
Matthew Shepard’s horrific death at the hands of redneck homophobes shocked America and changed its laws. Now a different truth is emerging, but does it matter?
Of course it matters; you can’t build a future on a vast tissue of lies. But to the powers that be, it matters not one whit nor one jot; when the sordid truth negates the glorious legend, they’ll wave that legend like a bloody shirt for all it’s worth provided it glorifies race aliens or weirdos.
The parents of this drug-addled degenerate were picked by Joe Biden to represent Wyoming at the 2020 Democratic Convention. We see what their values are. We see who they are.
“Matthew dreamed and worked for a world full of love and compassion. This memorial plaque was made possible through a global crowd-funding initiative that raised all funds necessary within three weeks.”
So said the couple who produced this Hell-spawn.
“We’ve given a lot of thought to Matthew’s final resting place, and we found the Washington National Cathedral is an ideal choice, as Matt loved the Episcopal Church and felt welcomed by his church in Wyoming. For the past 20 years, we have shared Matt’s story with the world. It’s reassuring to know he now will rest in a sacred spot where folks can come to reflect on creating a safer, kinder world.”
It was recently announced that Matthew Shepard would be interred at the National Cathedral. Shepard is a notable LGBT figure who was a victim of a hate crime in 1998. His parents were concerned about a burial site becoming a target for desecration, but twenty years after his death, he’s being given a permanent resting place.
You heard that right. A diseased practitioner of anal “sex” who dealt drugs and sold his body for profit is now laid to rest in our great hall of “national purpose.”
Sodomy is now a great national purpose.
It seems that, before his death, his killers found out that Shepard had access to $10,000 worth of meth. It was over this sordid mess that things went down.
That’s why he was killed.
Those are sacred bones now, son. Question the lie at your peril.
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The current Dean of the National Cathedral is a real piece of work. He figured he was on his knees praying to his Semitic God, so he might as well stay down there and give due homage to the Negroes while he was at it. If he’s gotten back on his own two feet, the event has not been recorded
His name is Randolph Marshall Hollerith. A fine Anglo-Saxon by name, bringing shame on the breed by his unstinting buckling and truckling. Indeed, when it comes to succumbing to fever dreams of racemixing, he’s made quite a fine career out of it.
At one point that “s___hole” comment from the President called forth a loud squeak from him in the form of an open letter. He wants to let the whole world know that he stands up for all that’s good, and that any consideration of race is beyond the pale. He’s one of the “good guys,” he claims, trying to save his White hide, and he is under the extreme delusion that this is the way to do it. Hell, this guy’s so craven they might just eat him first.
The escalation of racialized rhetoric from the President of the United States has evoked responses… African American leaders have led the way in rightfully expressing outrage.
Beginning in the middle of the 20th century, the Anglo-Saxon elite was exhausted; it was as if they said to themselves “well, we had a good run,” and simply gave up. Creating a country is hard work! So they just retired to their honorary positions and their trusteeships and their overseeing of giving away money to “minorities,” or went wind sailing on the yachts their fathers bought. And let the Jews run things. These “eminences” folded like Lawrence Welk’s accordion.
As faith leaders who serve at Washington National Cathedral — the sacred space where America gathers at moments of national significance — we feel compelled to ask: After two years of President Trump’s words and actions, when will Americans have enough?
Enough? Why, we didn’t get nearly enough, we wanted more and more, we wanted him to ramp up the rhetoric until people really noticed. And then we wanted the ideology of the deed. Where would their “sacred spaces” have been then?
We have had such moments before, and as a people we have acted. Events of the last week call to mind a similarly dark period in our history.
He went for it. He went for the hoariest of the hoary canards, the lamest one in the book, the “have you no decency” line addressed to Senator Joseph McCarthy, the biggest line of hogwash in American history. The fact is that the Roosevelt and Truman Administrations were Jewish crime scenes, lurid hunting grounds for the international criminal tribe. Both administrations were riddled with Jewish Communist traitors on the Soviet payroll. But somehow the man who tried to expose this “had no decency.” That’s what they think, or say they think, in those “sacred spaces.”
“Until this moment, Senator, I think I never really gauged your cruelty or your recklessness. You have done enough. Have you no sense of decency?”
He hadn’t done nearly enough. He had not yet begun to fight.
That was US Army attorney Joseph Welch on June 9, 1954, when he confronted Senator Joseph McCarthy before a live television audience, effectively ending McCarthy’s notorious hold on the nation.
Trump was the new McCarthy in this lunatic’s mind. The truth is Trump didn’t have the strength of character to be Joe McCarthy. And Joe McCarthy didn’t have what it takes to be Hitler by a long shot.
We have come to accept as normal a steady stream of language and accusations coming from the highest office in the land that plays to racist elements in society.
This week, President Trump crossed another threshold. Not only did he insult a leader in the fight for racial justice and equality for all persons; not only did he savage the nations from which immigrants to this country have come; but now he has condemned the residents of an entire American city. Where will he go from here?
Naturally, where he went from there was nowhere. The phony tough guy was the blusterer-in-chief; he pulled out his binoculars on the daily and was monitoring carefully the end of White America. The rhetoric at times was sensational and it even approached being a deed in itself — to call a country a “s___hole” and ask why we bring in people from such benighted places really got people thinking — but the follow up was nonexistent.
Mr. Trump’s words are dangerous.
True, potentially at any rate, and that’s a good thing, but his actions were those of a pussycat. In the final analysis he didn’t hurt a fly, and certainly not any lice-ridden Jews.
These words are more than a dog-whistle. When such violent dehumanizing words come from the President of the United States, they are a clarion call, and give cover, to white supremacists who consider people of color a sub-human infestation in America. They serve as a call to action from those people to keep America great by ridding it of such infestation.
Trust me, anyone who rightly thinks that our “people of color” invaders are mostly subhuman and that their being here represents an infestation didn’t, doesn’t, and never will need the harmless Donald Trump to give them a clarion call; they laugh at Trump. Those heeding Trump’s clarion call are the ones who say “the feds are the fascists.” Yawn. The thing about people like Dean Hollerith is that they live in such a dream world of “bad racists” and “good followers of scripture” that they haven’t even taken the time to get the ideologies straight.
We must boldly stand witness against the bigotry, hatred, intolerance, and xenophobia that is hurled at us, especially when it comes from the highest offices of this nation. We are compelled to take every opportunity to oppose the indecency and dehumanization that is racism, whether it comes to us through words or actions.
What bilge; he’s gone full woke Jesus Christ. Intolerance for the intolerable — and resistance to the killers of the sacred White race — are the cardinal virtues. They are the fail-safe defense mechanism for a people with the will to survive, flourish, and prosper. For the Dean Holleriths of the world, there is no greater sin than “racism”; they’ll advocate for sodomy, for an “anything goes” level of depravity, for anything under the sun as long as it serves those whom the billionaire Jews have defined as “oppressed” — but should a White man decide his people’s survival is better than their extinction, then that is the sin of sins.
And he wasn’t done. This goy lays it on with a trowel; he lards more butter on the toast than Steven Spielberg does in any ten of his sappy movies.
Ahmaud Arbery. Breonna Taylor. Christian Cooper. George Floyd.
He starts out like an incantation. Need he say more? Should we all “say their names” over and over again?
Ahmaud Arbery was a criminal who got what was coming to him. Breonna Taylor was a grotesque baboon who ran with street thugs and paid the price. Christian Cooper was an aggressive and entitled Negro who should have minded his own business. George Floyd was sub-human scum and a gunman who forfeited all his rights a long time ago.
There, I said their names. Happy?
We must say the names of our African American brothers and sisters who, because of the color of their skin, are subjected to suspicion, harassment, and even death. We must say their names because their names are known to God.
This bit about God assumes facts not in evidence. There’s a more than almost totally sure chance that the spirit that moves the world is repulsed by the likes of them, and thinks that they represent the botched part of the project, the cul-de-sac in the great work of Art. It is high time that they leave the stage. The fact that they continue to hold back the ascent of the one single hope — the White race — must be infuriating.
Whether on the streets of suburban Georgia, a Louisville bedroom, the wooded pathways of Central Park, or a sidewalk in downtown Minneapolis, we must confront the ugliness of racism whenever it robs an innocent person of life or dignity. We cannot, and we must not, turn away.
Sure we can; just watch us. Our hatred of these cretins knows no bounds. Turning away is the least we can do.
Those of us in white America need to take a long, hard look in the mirror. We need to honestly acknowledge the privileges afforded us based on the color of our skin — not out of guilt, but out of responsibility. We must see the casual bigotry that dulls our sense of injustice. We cannot ignore the centuries of systematic oppression that keeps our African American sisters and brothers literally pinned to the ground.
Don’t believe him; he means “guilt” as sure as he’s a nasty race traitor. And as far as the bigotry goes, there is nothing casual about it; we’ve elevated it to the professional level. It’s not really bigotry, though — it’s white-hot, passionate dedication to the cause of defeating those who are taking our living space and our lives away from us; defeating them forever.
Ahmaud Arbery. Breonna Taylor. Christian Cooper. George Floyd. We must never stop saying their names because God never stops loving them, and in God’s mercy, God never stops loving us.
And we must remember that the purveyor of this rhetorical pornography has been granted the exalted title of “Dean.” If you watch Dean Hollerith very very carefully you can see his brain turn first into marshmallow and then slowly transform into gelatin as it slowly melts away into an amorphous blob of nothingness.
But one thing you can be totally sure of — his words are dangerous.
The hatred of White people is now a great national purpose. Everyone must burn strange incense to the vile new gods of the state religion.
And, while not nearly enough of us were watching, the Dean turned Christianity back to its early and perhaps original purpose.
To be continued.
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