The Last Known Survivor

by Douglas Mercer

NO FIGURE IS more important to Jewish predations that the “survivor” — the ones who (they say) were those famous eyewitnesses to the “death-dealing Mengele” striding the ramparts at Auschwitz-Birkenau like a colossus or a golden god and saying You — to the ovens! And You — you work a little and then we’ll send you up the chimney. The survivors pout and preen on the world stage like VIPs of morality. They are cherished and feted, and are in their very person totems and talismans to be trotted out and wielded against the hated Aryans. But now the Jews are plotzing worldwide as they know these said-to-be survivors are croaking, kicking the bucket, and buying the farm left and right. And once they all eat the dust, what do they have left really to prop up their lies? Some (irrelevant) buildings and some (made up) words — and a whole lot of hazy speculation, very little of it comporting with reality.

That’s why they’ve made paintings of these sacred figures, made busts of them, taken pictures, put their words to music, and turned them into Holocaust holograms so some figment of the imagination can pester and annoy us with their stories (which are figments of the imagination) unto to the tenth generation and beyond. The whole cheap and tawdry tale is all quite spurious, specious, and scattershot and awry: If Hitler was a fraction as evil as they alleged, why on Earth are these old coots and wizened geezers still sucking air and wasting space? No, the best argument for the idea that the Holocaust is one vast tissue of lies is this: Had Hitler intended to kill them, they would be dead. After all, how hard is it to shoot someone in the face? In 1939, during the T4 Project, the National Socialists humanely euthanized some 10,000 of the incurably insane to improve the race, but protests (protests? — in such an evil dictatorship?) caused the program to be stopped, and Germany went back to sterilizations instead, doing exactly what the US and many other advanced European countries had been doing for decades. No such program was ever instituted for the incurably parasitic.

Their numbers are dwindling but the voices of the Auschwitz survivors remain powerful. Leon Weintraub, 99, the oldest of four spoke on January 27 2025 beside the notorious Death Gate at the Birkenau extermination camp. World leaders and European royalty rubbed shoulders with 56 survivors of Hitler’s genocide of European Jews on Monday as they marked 80 years since its liberation.

You can be sure that this lachrymose confab was just the place to see and be seen for the jet-setters and ruling class and glitterati who are the Powers that Be. The “beautiful people” (who are all ugly as hell) got their chance to schmooze and mix and mingle in a setting which was sure to make them feel righteous and show to the world that they are sensitive souls (in addition to being powerful tyrants oppressing the subject peoples over whom they rule). King Charles made an appearance and disgraced himself and his country, as always, making some trite remarks full of sentimental treacle, about how it was some kind of deeply personal pilgrimage for him, and how it was a “vital task” for the world to “always remember” past evil.

As a moral example for children, there is not a lot to choose between that and his mad lust regarding his wife’s tampon (which we won’t repeat here), both being things which should be unutterable in decent society. But at least his curious passion, though unseemly to be sure, doesn’t hornswoggle millions into feeling sorry for the international criminal Tribe and keep the flame of the greatest just so story ever told — the one about the Six Million — alive. For any gate leading to a work camp has always to be described as “notorious,” even as they still haul the bottle-washers of Bergen-Belsen into court and hold them accountable for fictional scenes of murder.

“We were victims in a moral vacuum,” said Tova Friedman, who described witnessing the horrors of the Nazi genocide as a five and a half year-old girl clinging to her mother’s hand. The warnings from history were clear: the survivors more than anyone understood the risks of intolerance, and antisemitism was the canary in the coal mine.

Here the writer of this egregious paragraph shows himself ignorant of the meaning of the phrase “canary in a coal mine,” and so produces what they often do when they write of the Jews suffering, dire sounding words which are really non sequiturs. But if “anti-Semitism” really was a canary in a coal mine this is one bird which was hauled back up with a clean bill of health. For “anti-Semitism,” which can be neatly defined as the health of the state, is alive and well and growing stronger by the day — and malodorous photo ops such as this one, which to the sound of mind more than border on the ludicrous, are actually helping the cause of truth, despite the bad intentions of their organizers.

Why, this Friedman vermin and many thousands like her outlived Adolf Hitler by some 80 years — so how terrible, really, could our Uncle have been? So full of holes is their narrative, so much does it beggar belief and strain credulity, that these events are losing their punch among those with a sharp critical intelligence. Still, the dull just blink once or twice and swallow it hook, line, and sinking. But it isn’t the dull who make history.

Under an enormous, white tent that covered the death camp entrance, the director of the Auschwitz Museum, Piotr Cywinski, issued a plea to protect the memory of what had happened, as the survivors died out. Memory was the watchword of this day, marked around the world as International Holocaust Memorial Day. Having listened to the survivors inside the tent at Birkenau, he told the BBC that “we saw a transfer from memory into history,” because it was now very unlikely that survivors would be delivering speeches for much longer. “That’s very daunting.”

At some point the very last “survivor” will have nearly completed his sordid sojourn on this planet (even though practically all of them survived, since their never was a single “deatn camp”) and will be wasting away. And when the news goes out that the last living link (a lightly alliterative phrase which suits the Jew’s histrionic and melodramatic frame of mind) to the “destruction of European Jewy” (what a lie that is!) is about to keel over, you know all over Jewdom the alarms will be set off, but nothing they can do will help, and Schmulie Weinberg will pass from the scene once and for all.

If they could, they would stuff him like a parrot and pretend that he still kicks, or make a waxworks out of him and rouge the cheeks to give a facsimile of life; but all will be of no avail. His passing will be a precursor to the passing of their lies.

When they are in professorial mode, Jew intellectuals will aver that historical memory is invariably shaky and spotty, and skepticism is well-advised; but when it comes to their sacred cash cow, “the Holocaust,” they will stand up straight, or as straight as they can, and swear up and down on scout’s honor that it’s all true, no fibbing — here, listen to sad old Rachel burst out in tears. But a post-“survivor” world is one in which their “moral” intimidation fades. Well-informed skeptics will continue to ask some pointed questions — like: Is it possible you all are lying?

And the rising young generations find tired and obviously-exaggerated stories about a war as distant from them as the Civil War was from our parents, less and less compelling. And when the last one said to have eyeballed Himmler strangling that cello player goes, they won’t even notice.

It is thoughts like these that keep the leaders of the Lying Race up at night, as they begin to see that their racket, like the “survivors” themselves, is on its last legs. And they know that when the world pulls the plug on that fable — well, all bets are off. Of course, anyone contemplating this frantic Jewish state of mind would have to be cold-blooded indeed not to simply burst out laughing.

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