From the creative mind of Dr. Allenlin
Email: jonallenlin@gmail.com
Inquiries must be made in Hebrew only and be concise and to the point.
Translated from Hebrew to English
Brokers—however many there may be—will receive a "lion's share" of this massive pie, the value of which far exceeds tens of mountains of diamonds for humanity; yes, you read that right—you are wide awake, not dreaming, and you can pinch your arm to verify it.
SO READ MY LIPS AND FOLLOW MY STEPS
The size of each broker's share will be determined by who contacted me first, as well as their contribution to the brokerage and sales promotion.
It also depends on how serious they are, and whether they possess a backbone of steel and "balls" the size and weight of Planet Earth.
– News Group A : –
I intend to sell the inventions of this "Besorot" group for $50 trillion plus average bank interest. I will donate approximately 99% of this sum to the State of Israel's treasury, provided that I decide where the funds are invested. Yes, I will also demand significant "benefits" from the State as a citizen—in addition to my share of the aforementioned sum—as well as several recommendations for me to receive Nobel Prizes. The sale will be handled and managed by the State of Israel, which will sell to countries, companies, and investors worldwide—unless other serious entrepreneurs and investors beat it to the punch; in that event, the State would fail to secure the "lion's share" mentioned above, due to bureaucratic reasons and, specifically, the pathological "Wolf! Wolf!" syndrome.
– News Group B : –
I am offering this set of revelations free of charge. To ensure that interested parties are not overwhelmed or deterred by the sheer magnitude of the infinite transformation humanity will undergo upon adopting these grandiose inventions, I felt it my duty to first prepare them—at least to a small degree—for my extraordinary capabilities. I demonstrate these capabilities in this very text, and they are further elaborated upon in the book I have authored—a work whose introduction alone spans some 2,000 pages. This book aims to repair the world, accelerate the pace of civilization and evolution by orders of magnitude in the coming decades, and completely eradicate the destructive process of devolution to which humanity stubbornly clings. For instance, a sevenfold boost in the efficacy of today’s primitive medical science, alongside an ocean of other reforms and the solving of many mysteries—such as the secrets behind Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) and the Bermuda Triangle. It would also involve unraveling the true principles of conventional flight; currently, "knowledgeable" scientists—in their utter foolishness—believe planes fly according to Bernoulli's principle. They brazenly claim that air travels faster over the wing than under it simply because the path is longer, whereas the truth is that the wing itself moves through stationary air. Here, the imagination of our "expert" scientists failed to think outside the box; they stumbled right over Newton’s Third Law of action and reaction. They convinced themselves that—despite knowing the air was stationary and being acted upon by the wing—the resulting reaction somehow obeyed Bernoulli. (And I am not even referring to the action and reaction occurring beneath the wing.) Thus, they were fully satisfied, swallowing a "frog" that didn't even get stuck in their throats; they saw no need to clarify the issue or satisfy their curiosity to delve deeper. After all, they had a plane that actually flew—an undeniable, proven fact—so they felt no urgency. This complacency allowed them to implant a massive fallacy deep within their minds—and their subconscious—where it took root and grew incredibly deep. A century has passed, yet the momentum continues—and the sky is not the limit.
I marvel! I marvel! I marvel!
– And furthermore, the unraveling of the mystery regarding the legitimacy of the Holocaust—viewed through the rose-tinted glasses of the "Creation Project Manager"—a matter I even touched upon in this very text.
– Then there is unraveling the mystery of the human majority—those who believe only in the power of the fist while hiding behind the word "homeland," a slogan of division and blatant racism. It is an ugly, dishonest form of patriotism that conceals the violence and thuggery which breed the Right, the far-Right, and fascism—forces that unconsciously emulate dark regimes from the not-so-distant past. They are the ones who insist we must not be "suckers," a mindset that paves a seemingly legitimate path for the adrenaline and the evil brewing within us to take over; they complete the deed with a clear conscience—yet one filled with utter, nauseating revulsion. I am not preaching for a "sucker" Left here, but for a sensible center-Left; for whenever someone speaks to you of "homeland," what they really mean is: "Stay alert with a loaded weapon, let us storm the Gentile who differs from us, rob him, and share the spoils—then we’ll hide the swastika behind the wardrobe and pretend we’ve forgotten it, that it has nothing to do with us, and that we are Jesus’s twins."
– And consider, for instance, unraveling the mystery of God’s existence: I have truly "grabbed Him by the balls," provided hundreds of proofs of His existence, and exposed how the religious—across all faiths—are completely off-track. On the contrary, through all their affectations and mannerisms, they actually—truly, genuinely—diminish and humiliate God. And so, our scientists—those "know-it-alls" who propagated the lie and were the very first to believe it—have continued in this vein; to this day, aeronautical scientists and engineers do not know why an airplane flies. They fail to realize that they simply got lucky when they began flying back then based on a principle that is a hundred light-years removed from Bernoulli’s principle. Thus, the ignorance of those scientists—trained in rote memorization by professors of rote memorization in academies of rote memorization, devoid of logic or imagination, relying solely on billions of memory cells in their musty brains—persists in every aspect of their engagement with this science. Another example of the wealth of revelations and new insights in this second part is the discovery of the "genetic ironing mechanism," through which the Creator-Projector creates, causes death, and brings life to man and all creatures.
Here is yet another sample from the barrage of mysteries I have deciphered—mysteries that our scientists failed to unravel, or indeed failed even to question or notice, despite the phenomena being of such significance as to demand explanation.
For instance, what do you consider the wonders of creation to be? Some scientists might argue that the greatest wonder is the creation of trillions upon trillions of stars—though, in my view, that is actually the simplest of creation's marvels, for once the mystery is solved, the sense of awe dissipates. Others might point to DNA. In my view, there are even greater wonders in creation. Some might point to the unconscious—both individual and collective—shared by all living beings; yet, I consider the mechanism maintaining nature's equilibrium to be even more wondrous than those three examples. This balance governs some 15 million species of living creatures and another 15 million species and varieties of plants—and that is not even counting the myriad organisms inhabiting the seas and oceans.
However, last but certainly not least—for those unaware—all four wonders mentioned above are incredibly simple when compared to the absolute greatest wonder of all: consciousness itself. It stands worlds apart from the unconscious, which is constructed from an intricate web of countless algorithms—the very kind that humanity has only just begun to emulate. But what, exactly, is the conscious mind? No scientist dared to knock on its door or grasp even a thread of it—until I came along and fully deciphered it. Yes, you read that right: fully deciphered. Let me offer a hint to set your thoughts in the right direction: In Christianity, God is defined as the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—a Trinity that is one, constituting God Himself. When God manifests in His heavenly form—as described in the holy scriptures—this manifestation is called God; yet when He manifests while confined within the human body, that manifestation is called the Messiah. Meanwhile, His expanded unconscious continues to govern our reality, while He—as the Messiah—remains limited in His abilities, save for certain capabilities that lie ready and waiting, as if in a contingency plan.
So, what is the Holy Spirit that completes the Christian Trinity? It is, in fact, consciousness—free will, the repository of subjective content, and the faculty of judgment. Above all, it is responsible for the sense of proportion along a spectrum ranging from the blunt to the sharp. For it was I—and I alone—who knocked on its door and deciphered it; I unraveled how God created for us a consciousness that is trillions of times more significant and wondrous than the unconscious—even though our unconscious is responsible, on average, for about 95% of our mannerisms, quirks, and array of behaviors, rendering us essentially automatons, albeit ones equipped with a sophisticated consciousness.
All other creatures are governed and driven by their own unconscious minds to the tune of 97% to 99.999%; indeed, even bacteria, viruses, and—in the case of us men—our sperm cells are controlled entirely by unconscious algorithms, operating without any consciousness whatsoever, like absolute, robotic automatons. So, this technological consciousness I’ve conceived will be teeming with associations a thousand times denser than those found in the human mind; we would then possess a "golem"—a construct capable of devising thousands of vital inventions every single morning. The limits of such fertile imagination would soar beyond the heavens. Everything is already planned out; all I lack are a few dozen dozen engineers from every technological field—along with experts in the humanities and liberal arts—plus another few dozen or hundred dozen programmers, and a massive budget sufficient to cover their salaries. That is all. Then, this wondrous golem would be born, rising fully prepared and ready to serve its creator. Civilization and evolution would then skyrocket; only then would our reality take on a truly delightful and serene quality. The evil lurking within us might dissolve, subside, and fade away as if it had never existed—leaving behind only the faintest trace of malice, just enough to pull us from the stench of toxic subjectivity and anchor us firmly in the realm of sublime objectivity, nobility, virtue, and a proud humility. To summarize this point for anyone who hasn't fully grasped the scale: while today’s AI is essentially a form of amplified *unconscious* mind, the technological golem I’ve envisioned represents a "super-form" of the *subconscious*—and, above all, of *consciousness* itself. Top-notch.
So read my lips and follow my steps.
There are further examples of mysteries deciphered—mysteries that scientists and intellectuals (even the genuine ones, not just the misguided) failed to grasp or grapple with. These include deciphering the metaphor of the Binding of Isaac; the metaphor of Satan—without whom reality loses its sense; and the balance between Darwinism and the astonishing "genetic ironing" mechanism I discovered—a mechanism whose algorithms God linked, quite literally, to waves from the planets (a fact that no longer causes me astonishment, as the mystery is solved and the shock has faded). It is a mechanism I discovered three decades ago, through which God grants life and deals death. Other deciphered mysteries include the metaphor of Adam and Eve; the lack of conflict between the Hebrew date of Creation and the scientific timeline; the nature of the "evil inclination"—why it was created alongside the "good inclination" and how, without it, evolution would give way to "devolution" once cannibalism vanished; the crucifixion of the Messiah—specifically the logic connecting David, Jesus, and the Divine, a concept the Church has yet to grasp, forcing it to swallow a bitter pill; and the Book of Job, which shares common themes with the Holocaust in Germany, the Binding of Isaac, and the crucifixion of Jesus—all occurring in accordance with a divine decree—as well as the subconscious blind faith inherent in ritual. …unraveling the ramifications of this—stemming from a lack of any conscious logic—as well as deciphering the mystery of the absurd pregnancy of Mary, the mother of Jesus—a matter regarding which no Christian fails to harbor at least a shred of doubt concerning Mary’s righteousness, until I came along and vindicated the very claim Christianity has maintained to this day (even though most true Christian intellectuals are ashamed to affirm it); and the mystery of God giving the "green light" for the conquest of a third of the Christian world in times past; and the mystery behind the necessity of conflicts and wars; and the mystery of why God casts a thick fog over the entire, highly complex philosophy of Abrahamic religion; and His interest in merely a millionth of humanity—while the rest serve as nothing more than dominoes or "human refuse" in our reality, most of whom are eventually erased from existence, sometimes as early as their first incarnation; and why He revives and reincarnates billions of souls—knowing in advance that they, too, are destined to be erased from existence after one or several lifetimes—souls that turn out to have served merely as stumbling blocks for the refinement of the tiny minority destined for eternal life; and, finally, deciphering the mystery of why God has hidden—and continues to hide—most blessings, locking them away behind bars and bolts, forcing us to toil, sweat, weep, and "swallow a frog" every morning just to secure a modest benefit, when He could have simply made all the blessings we need readily accessible. If all our needs were met as easily as we access water, air, and the wondrous sense of sight—much like a scenario where the heavens rained down coins and banknotes at the pace of a downpour—inflation would become utterly unbearable; one would have to pay ten kilograms of banknotes just to buy a single kilogram of potatoes. A similar fate, or something even worse, would befall us if all our needs were delivered right to our doorsteps: within a dozen generations, we would devolve into earthworms and then into maggots.
Not only have I deciphered how God creates conscious beings, but I even know how to "create" a conscious entity using algorithms that distinguish consciousness from unconscious processes. I am speaking of a technological AI millions of times more advanced than what exists today—achieved by leveraging two truly revolutionary breakthroughs.
Although these "Type B" insights are far more valuable than the "Type A" ones, I will share them for free. I must ensure that materialist civilization and evolution do not outpace social civilization and evolution; otherwise, devolution would triumph over evolution, and humanity would hurtle like a snowball into the abyss of annihilation and oblivion—perishing as protein-rich corpses for maggots beneath a crushing stone.
– News Group C : –
I am also offering this set of "Revelations" for free, even though their value far exceeds that of "Revelations A" and "Revelations B."
Components of "Revelations A":
1- A scientific-physical correction to the definition of the law of conservation of momentum, accounting for an exception for which I ought to receive a Nobel Prize.
2- A scientific-physical correction to the definition of Newton's third law, accounting for an exception—again, one warranting a Nobel Prize—wherein the reaction to an action does not necessarily obey this law (neither in magnitude nor in direction). This comes as a surprise to scientists—specifically those "experts" who never asked themselves why trigonometric functions are permitted to be non-linear. From this, one must understand the need to expand the definitions of both the law of conservation of momentum and Newton's third law.
3- And—most importantly—the invention of a green energy source derived from universal cosmic gravity (that "infinite" kind) and from dark matter; I succeeded in bending and utilizing this matter—a feat achieved while the scientific community (in physics and astronomy) is still in its infancy regarding this subject, and while correcting a scientific-physical concept that was previously erroneous—one on which those "expert" scientists had failed. Since most scientists are merely repositories of rote knowledge—having learned from rote-teaching professors in rote-learning academies, possessing not a shred of logic or imagination, but rather billions of memory cells in their brains (though I certainly do not disparage this vital faculty)—it is unfortunate that the brain cannot accommodate both vast logic and vast memory simultaneously; one develops at the expense of the other, a principle I realized long ago. Consequently, the barriers perceived by these "knowledge-repository" scientists appeared to me as nothing more than cobwebs—even back when I was a child and adolescent. Naturally, this invention merits every Nobel Prize awarded from Nobel’s time to the present; for based on this invention, any household could place a washing-machine-sized generator in the corner—powered by cosmic energy—to supply electricity to every appliance forever, requiring no conventional fuel and only minimal maintenance. Similarly, in every vehicle, such a generator would replace the engine, allowing the car to travel millions of kilometers without any fuel.
– Based on two scientific-physical revisions—specifically regarding the law of conservation of momentum and Newton's third law—I devised the following:
A – A ballistic missile weighing thousands of tons—far exceeding the 209-ton maximum of missiles produced to date—that ascends thousands of kilometers while accelerating throughout the entire climb (not just part of it) and continues to accelerate during the descent (a feature absent in conventional missiles). Furthermore, the missile reaches its target at speeds of tens of kilometers per second with virtually no plasma formation, despite piercing the atmosphere—which acts like a concrete wall at such entry speeds. Most importantly, unlike the largest existing ballistic missile (weighing 209 tons but arriving at its target weighing only 9 tons because 200 tons were expelled as exhaust), my missile—weighing, say, five thousand tons—arrives at its target weighing the full five thousand tons (minus a few kilograms of uranium for propulsion), as my method generates no exhaust gases, all while adhering to the law of conservation of momentum.
Due to the acceleration during the descent from an altitude of thousands of kilometers, the missile strikes its target at a speed of many tens of kilometers per second, triggering an earthquake that destroys all surrounding cities—all without the need for a conventional or nuclear warhead. And the single most critical point is that this missile cannot be intercepted at any stage of its launch.
SO READ MY LIPS AND FOLLOW MY STEPS
B – Based on these physical refinements, I also invented an aircraft capable of ascending to extreme altitudes—tens, hundreds, thousands, or even millions of kilometers—without interacting with the surrounding atmospheric air. It can hover in the sky without relying on Bernoulli’s principle, jet propulsion, or atmospheric pressure differentials; it simply neutralizes gravity while simultaneously generating upward thrust. I built about 20 prototypes for subsystems—costing me over a million New Shekels—and witnessed the results firsthand.
– This, along with several other groundbreaking innovations—as well as more modest ones—belongs to "Category A" of my inventions.
For example:
A- A brilliant transformation—moving us from today’s "Stone Age" methods into a truly revolutionary era of structural engineering (covering bridges, walls, and roofs). A bridge or beam, for instance, could span a distance at least 100 times greater than current limits, while weighing just one-hundredth as much, costing one-hundredth of the price, requiring one-hundredth of the construction time, and being completely earthquake-proof.
I built a tiny yet highly illustrative prototype; any structural engineer seeing it might—figuratively speaking—faint from sheer astonishment, for once the mystery is unraveled, the shock gives way to pure wonder.
B- A sweeping transformation in architectural design; here, too, an architect seeing this most revolutionary stroke of genius might—figuratively speaking—faint from amazement. Furthermore, I have devised an invention that can be implemented specifically in Saudi Arabia—in our region; while it would cost a mere few hundred billion dollars, it would yield over a million tons of fish daily. The fish would be drawn from tens of kilometers out at sea—far from the shore—into the facility's trap located on the coast, by harnessing physical principles related to the Earth's rotational momentum. Moreover, with an additional investment of a few hundred billion dollars, the facility could also supply the entire energy needs of the Middle Eastern nations. I hold a technical assessment from the Technion regarding this invention from two decades ago. This project—along with the one I am about to explain—are the very initiatives that will foster stable peace among the Abrahamic nations, including Israel, combining Saudi capital with Israeli ingenuity and my own. Furthermore, there is the project of transforming the Rub' al Khali (Empty Quarter) desert in Saudi Arabia into a paradise capable of supplying all the livestock-based meat needed by humanity worldwide. Together, these two initiatives would provide the entire globe with all types of meat, including fish. The Empty Quarter project would utilize fertilizers derived from the Dead Sea and receive a daily supply of approximately one billion cubic meters of Mediterranean water—desalinated using recovered heat (in accordance with the Second Law of Thermodynamics) and pumped into the Saudi desert. Additionally, a channel would convey water from this source to African nations—passing beneath the Suez Canal—in exchange for compensation. Crucially, the daily supply of billions of cubic meters of desalinated water would effectively cost zero shekels; this is because the process allows for simultaneous electricity generation and sales, thereby covering the net cost of desalination. This unique and ingenious method achieves these results without requiring coastal desalination plants, even though it relies on the standard principles of evaporation and condensation.
There are several other inventions—some grandiose, others more modest.
– I am Dr. Jon Allenlin, around 80 years old, from the town of Arraba (near Avtalyon in the north). I am the father of an ophthalmologist, a university psychology professor, and three psychologists; the father-in-law of an ophthalmologist, a family physician, and a notary lawyer; and the grandfather of twelve wonderful grandchildren.
– In 1993, I won first place in an invention competition broadcast on Channel 2—an achievement covered by the press in multiple languages. Following this victory, I sold an invention to billionaire Stef Wertheimer for four million dollars (at the time's valuation) through PMI, a company I had founded with a partner. Since then, I have spent decades—tens of thousands of hours of feverish, including theoretical, work—sequestered in the "shell" of my laboratory. Today, I possess scientific, social, medical, and spiritual capabilities that far surpass those of a dozen of the world's most brilliant professors.
SO READ MY LIPS AND FOLLOW MY STEPS
By Dr. Jon Allenlin
Email: jonallenlion@gmail.com
Indeed, delving deeply into the material—rather than merely skimming or leafing through it—will strongly reinforce the aforementioned arguments, especially once you become familiar with all the supporting evidence I have in hand.
The following content is extremely important to read; the logic behind it cannot be understood without the material covered in the next few pages.
When I was just two years old, my father—a schoolteacher—made a bold declaration to family and friends that my IQ was far higher than Einstein’s. By the age of five, he made an even more astonishing claim: that my IQ was many times greater than Einstein’s. I remember one morning when he was getting dressed to leave for school; he told my mother about a dream he’d had in which I invented and built a ballistic missile, rode it up into the sky, and was watched by all the townspeople gathered in the spacious schoolyard until I vanished from sight. Indeed, today I am seeking an investor to whom I can sell that ballistic missile concept, along with many other applications—such as a fighter jet capable of hovering at extreme altitudes—tens, hundreds, thousands, or even millions of kilometers up—without any interaction with the surrounding atmosphere. This becomes possible only when two laws of motion operate in tandem and intersect—much like Newton’s first and third laws—within a closed system; the craft would then take off without external thrust and without expelling internal mass. An example of this involves a form of centrifugal force—not the imaginary kind, but one involving radial motion that performs actual work—where the reaction force does not obey Newton’s third law, yet without violating the law of conservation of momentum (heaven forbid). Such an aircraft would render massive, conventional wings obsolete and eliminate the need for airports in the Beit Netofa Valley, as well as doing away with the method of… Regarding the launch of primitive spacecraft—which currently generate plumes of smoke spanning kilometers—this invention ensures that landings on celestial bodies will be far softer and more reliable, among a host of other applications. Moreover, this invention stands as the unique and exclusive solution capable of neutralizing the existential Iranian threat; all signs indicate that Israel would face annihilation without this intervention. Anyone who reads the situation differently—despite possessing a functioning mind—harbors a defect in their skull that destroys and crushes their sense of proportion, blinding them with a cheap, hollow optimism.
When I reached the fourth grade, my father advanced me two years to the sixth grade. Before my first math exam in that sixth-grade class, he told me: "If no student in the class scores higher than you, I’ll give you five liras; and if no one else gets the same grade as you, I’ll give you ten." That very afternoon, my father "insisted" that the math teacher grade the entire class's exams immediately. When we returned home, I heard my father calling me from the living room; I went over and saw him waving a blue banknote—not a red one—and I instantly realized it was the ten-lira note. It meant that no other student had matched my score, even though I had skipped two grade levels.
When I was about four or five years old—before I had even started school—my father (who was a teacher) would gather us during his free time and school holidays: me, my brother who was four years my senior, my brother who was seven years older, and my uncle who was five years older. He would have us gather prickly, skin-irritating weeds from the yard—we were all wearing shorts—and we knew he was about to ask difficult arithmetic questions. Whoever answered correctly would win five *grushim*, while anyone who failed would have the prickly weeds stuffed around his testicles. This routine repeated hundreds of times; I won the prize every single time, and he never once placed the prickly weeds around my testicles. Back when I was a student, I used to drive my mathematics and physics teachers crazy. For instance, I would often propose very concise solutions to my math teacher in front of the class; he would even instruct the students to copy the short solutions I suggested from the board rather than his own. However, one day, he couldn't grasp a solution I had proposed. He asked me to repeat the explanation over and over until he finally seemed to understand it. Later, it turned out that this teacher—who normally taught ninth grade—had sent a ninth-grade student to fetch me from my own class. My teacher gave me permission to leave and go see him. When I arrived at his classroom, I found that he had assigned his students some work to keep them occupied so he could focus on understanding the mathematical solution he had struggled with earlier. He asked me to explain it repeatedly. When he finally grasped the concise logic behind that brilliant solution, he said something truly remarkable: "You are drawing light out of the light itself."
He added that scientists in general do not do this, and that no scientist had ever reached such a level of illumination as I had. When I was in 12th grade, my mathematics teacher used to solve the most difficult homework problems on the board for us. Throughout the year, with every line he wrote, he would look only at me, expecting me to surprise him at the end by offering a shorter, clearer solution. Often, he would ask the students to erase what they had copied from his solutions and copy down my suggestions instead. This took place at a Jewish boarding school affiliated with the Technion—nearly sixty years ago. Three years ago, I wanted to find a former classmate after reading an article about him—he had become a Brigadier General and a combat pilot. I traveled to his *moshav* to visit an acquaintance and asked for directions to this colleague's home. The acquaintance called him to say, "One of your very old colleagues is looking for you—his name is John Elnelin." (I had asked the acquaintance not to reveal the old name the colleague would recognize.) The colleague told the acquaintance over the phone that the name didn't ring a bell and that he hadn't gone to school with anyone by that name. I then took the phone and told him we had been in the same class but that I had used a different name back then. He asked what the other name was, but I told him, "You have to guess who I am." I added, "I was the student who was best at math and physics in the class." He then named my old name, and I confirmed, "That's right—it's me; my name is John Elnelin now."
However, there was a catch… It turns out that—even before I started kindergarten—I was already experiencing parasympathetic episodes that caused my stomach to secrete far more acid than normal. I have lived like this ever since, with the lining of my stomach constantly being eaten away; the rate of healing lagged behind the rate of erosion. This caused terrible memory issues from early childhood: everything I learned was quickly forgotten. I would read something and immediately forget the line I had just read. I had to expend at least seven times the effort of the average person to learn anything, and this has continued to this day—meaning that acquiring any piece of knowledge required seven times the exertion it takes for the average person.
However, my IQ and my incredibly fertile, far-ranging imagination sustained me, enabling me to achieve results that far exceeded ordinary human capabilities.
I finally found
legitimacy.
Of the Holocaust, the slavery in Egypt, all the pogroms, the granaries of Poland, and the *Kristallnacht*—viewed through God’s rose-tinted glasses. This perspective shaped a sublime nobility for the Chosen People—a people who continue to endure existential holocausts, one after another, ceaseless and ever-intensifying, awaiting the imminent arrival and revelation of the Messiah. Yes, indeed, he will be revealed any moment now, bearing an ocean of tidings—solace for the Jews, and solace for the "Job of Nations" (a title owed to the Jews by all humanity for their contributions to the refinement of genes and the advancement of enlightened civilization and evolution).
And here, at last, is the brilliant unraveling of the mystery regarding the legitimacy of the Holocaust when viewed through God’s glasses—as I described in the verses I penned some two decades ago.
By Dr. Jon Allenlin, 79, from the town of Arraba (near Avtalyon in the North)
Email: jonallenlion@gmail.com
The Cross of Exile, the Swastika, and the Cross of Redemption; the burn scar that sears the soul
Honor trampled beneath the terror of the SS; the unheard cry; the soul severed
The Job of nations, wading in blood; the Chosen People, slaughtered in exile
Children of Abraham, guarding the people's sanctity; children of Sarah, cast into the pit
Jacob’s people, struck again and again; a mad tyrant massacring the children of Solomon
A torch of memory versus the antisemite’s torch; the beacon’s flame versus the Holocaust’s fire
No soundness remains—wounds, bruises, and fresh sores—unbound and unhealed, nothing but bonfire burns
Ten measures of suffering in every Holocaust; ten measures of nobility for the nation—virtues born of the Holocaust, not the flaws of success
A tormented soul is a hive of virtues; a broken soul is a mighty soul
A turn for the fire, a turn for the gas chamber; and the six million—now evaporating into air
It cannot be that a Holocaust so blatant has no purpose articulated
It cannot be that a Holocaust so bitter was carried out for no ultimate meaning—Hear, O Israel
A million trembling, a million gasping; a million buried, a million turned to ash; a million evaporating, a million confessing
Gases, poisoning, and crematoria in action; trains racing, a rapid tempo, a symphony in harmony
In whose name is the universe registered? Who is Hitler? What is the Gestapo? All is under scrutiny; God is here
And who are you, Führer of the gas chamber? By what authority? Turning toward the abyss—
Upon the cross, their suffering grew immense; upon the cross, time slowed to a snail's pace.
A sacrifice upon the cross—such is the Father's will; our Father in heaven—have You, too, turned away from us?
Beneath the swastika, Shimon Peres stood tall—for David’s people remain forever resilient.
Fat and thin alike—while the fire burned steadily; fat apart and thin apart—it was not a time for unity.
A people of Freud, of Albert, and even Alfred—a people who bear witness.
A people of chess, of Freud, of Albert, and scores of others.
Divorce, ghetto, and Gestapo—Jews stripped of honor, life, and every taboo.
Upon the ruins of the Holocaust, the torch was lit; burned by the swastika, yet acknowledging the refinement of nations.
A chosen people, yes—but not a master race; it is a matter of genes, for which Holocausts are endured.
The child in his mother’s arms—his lifeblood ebbing away; the man who slaughtered his people—Hitler was his name.
God, when did we rejoice? Why only us? We never found rest; we have suffered enough and more.
Led like swine, starved like scarecrows, poisoned like sardines, burned like skeletons, cleared away like refuse.
Not an arm, nor numbers—nor the arm of Idi Amin; the genetic "ironing" inflicted upon the firstborn.
Against the swastika, they cried "Enough!"—and thus Israel was born in May.
The torch of remembrance born of the Holocaust’s torch; a legacy forged against the torch of antisemitism.
The *Netzi* (official) is a Jew with the rank of B.H.D.; the *Nazi* is an Aryan with the title of barbarian.
In the rain I served, and in the cold I breathed; oh Holocaust, I shall spare you.
A people without a Holocaust is a people living on credit—existing only on borrowed time.
An impure Chancellor—and Jewish blood. Tzama publicly declared this.
He stood, drew a rifle, and aimed the barrel at her—at the baby she was shielding; he shouted and spoke, yet…
A chess match with a leader—ask Nobel, not Rommel.
A process of verification, a process of evaporation, and the wails of woe—*Shema Yisrael*.
Behind the barbed wire—children, women, and the terror of troops—and the wailing roams—*Shema Yisrael*.
Unleashed from Berlin, the crocodile devours millions, and souls in the chimneys cry out—*Shema Yisrael*.
From soul to soul, Azrael runs, gathering the Children of Israel—enough and more—*Shema Yisrael*.
A chosen people or a cast-aside people? Why by the millions, and in the Diaspora too? The tide has breached its bounds—*Shema Yisrael*.
A people of regal bearing, a people of lofty ego—cast into legendary depths—*Shema Yisrael*.
Honor and splendor alike—cast into the pit's abyss; may we yet rise and breathe free again.
Never before has such a terrible thing occurred—a people of the Torah accepting the decree.
It is not so terrible; the order will yet come—the ultimate order, bearing a thousand letters.
It will come, it will come—a sea of tidings for the people of the Holocaust; just await what is to come.
Patience, more patience—the gifts will yet arrive, in overflowing trains.
And in the days of the emissary, there shall be a harvest—salvation in the fields, beyond what the eye can grasp.
The Chancellor’s train, destined for the transfer—the train of hell, which never pauses.
Raging fire and gas in the pipes, and a hive of victims—in every train.
Not since the days of Noah and Japheth has there been such a monster—a Holocaust of soot and hellfire, beyond the grasp of any imagination.
The events unfolding in the killing fields, a design ordained by the Creator of souls;
The Chosen People slaughtered in exile—the Job of nations, wading through a sea of blood.
Swift death is not so bitter; it is death in installments that consumes the Jews.
Mothers stripped naked, sons left in shock, while morality lay dormant.
Lord in Heaven—no water in the taps, only gas; was it breathed in like ducks?!!!
Lord in Heaven—a world torn in two, Jews in the slaughterhouse, gripped by iron tongs—what became of human instincts?
Lord in Heaven—why the nakedness, the exposed shame and demons? Why yet more torment?
Lord in Heaven—Passover Seders and pogroms, Holocausts reserved for Jews, and a *Yad Vashem* for eternity? Trains packed to the brim, compartments crammed to the limit, chimneys towering high—and the hand of fate refuses to halt.
Emaciation and skeletal forms, starvation to the brink, chimneys reaching the heavens, and total annihilation.
The cleansing pipe or the gas of destruction; a shower and refreshment, or extermination.
The People of Israel—sent to oblivion; with Aaron—consigned to the void.
The grim "ironing"—a shearing of the head; not by arm or shears, nor by the arm of Idi Amin.
On the metal cross, time stood still; six million—doomed to destruction.
A people of chess and genius, refining their essence through both tears and joy.
It is inconceivable that a Holocaust of such perfect evil was born from nothing, unseen by any eye.
It cannot be that a Holocaust of pain beyond imagination came to pass without a Higher Power—
without the supervision of a Supervisor and the guidance of a Guide; a Holocaust governed by clock and compass.
God the Judge—despite all the sorrow involved—keep us within the fold; why leave us trapped only between the hammer and the anvil?
No reckoning, nor all the wealth from here to Bonn, could ever serve as sufficient restitution.
It is inconceivable—a Holocaust without parallel—yet He remains deaf, unhearing.
O God who hears, peerless One—why, oh why, must we swallow a bitter pill each morning?
From behind the torn curtain, all evil emerged; the whole world must hear—this Holocaust cannot be swallowed.
Howls of the abyss and officers of evil refuse to listen, for they are watching the cinema.
An ambassador and winter, wickedness in excess, a shot to the nape; a mother shields her infant, while a Nazi absorbs the blast.
The elderly, women, and children—without the batting of an eyelid; cursed on every page, damned beyond all bounds.
A Nazi’s bullet shattered her back, pierced her breast, and burst forth from the nipple; the infant suckled as death rushed in.
Hitler in power, the Gestapo on guard—he spoke of their extermination, believing in racial purity.
The dignity of Moses’ people was trampled into the grass; the Chosen People—all their splendor defiled.
Jews were flayed, their light extinguished; the Messiah lost his donkey, while God holds a lyre.
A million, then another, up to six—the vision of Zion went awry.
Six into the fire, yet morale remains; the People of Israel will not despair.
Neither the fire nor the six—what worth have the values of *Nothingness* against the values of *Being*?
Fire and fury—no despair—played with chess, not backgammon;
The Chancellor’s train, meant for deportation—an infernal train that never paused;
The fat kept apart from the thin—mixing them was frowned upon—yet in the fire, they burned together;
A broken soul is a mighty soul, a tormented soul—a hive of hidden virtues;
The greatest good born of the greatest suffering; the horrors of hell creating gardens of wonder;
Since the days of Noah and Japheth, there has never been such a monster—a Holocaust of soot and hellfire, beyond all imagination;
The Fire-Man and the cause; the Fire-Man and the searing; the Fire-Man and the roasting;
The Fire-Man and the lashing; the Fire-Man and the crucifixion; the Fire-Man and the refining fire;
The Fire-Man and the conflagration; the Fire-Man and the Holocaust—Hear, O Israel;
The Fire-Man and the woman; wickedness, enmity, and desire;
To lash, to sear, to crucify, to roast, to burn and to refine; to be burned, in order to be purified and refined;
The cross of exile, the cross of the belly, and the cross of redemption; the scar of the fire, refining the soul;
The crucified Crusaders; and those in Libya, and the round-up in Morocco too;
From cross to cross, the battle was waged; cross yourselves, find salvation, and multiply;
Suffering upon suffering pursues; the soul is refined in the fire;
The searing of scars, the refining of souls; the individual’s salvation found in the salvation of others;
Be fruitful and multiply after being crucified; our souls, twins from a single egg. One
To be is to burn, and to burn is to scar, and to scar is to be refined, and to be refined is to save and to refine.
To be or not to be—that is not the question; to be means saving the individual—and even the wicked.
Self-salvation is the spark that sustains all the salvations of mankind.
Whether Hitler did good or not—that is a question.
That Hitler intended to do good—that is not a question.
Whether Hitler did good for the Jews or for humanity—that is not the question.
Hitler was the ultimate evil—that is a fact, not a matter for questioning.
The evil was barbaric; the race, Aryan; the man, Adolf Hitler.
*Get*, ghetto, and Gestapo—Jews stripped of honor, life, and every taboo.
Adolf and Theodor, the violin’s tears, pure blood, a pit dug deep.
Führer Hitler and Himmler too—scattering ashes toward the river.
A bond was forged between Himmler and the Führer—Hitler’s bond of ash.
The "absolute pure," a train where sitting was forbidden, and in the ghetto revolt—slaughtered, in pairs and alone.
A business of coal and a lofty master race, a one-way track, "pure" to the very core.
The well-oiled killing machine, soap for glory, and flames of horror leading to the ancestors.
A train where sitting was forbidden; the Angel of Death lurking on every train.
Blood and fat and Haman’s ears—embodying the "pure" strain.
Oil and soap, defying all conscience—Shoah, desolation, heavenward cries, and salvation.
To die by flame, to die full of love, to die of hate—there is no greater horror in death.
The screams from the chambers, deafening Haman’s ears… And they even made Satan tremble—
The unceasing cries, the cries of sublime ascent.
Cries beyond all conscience, beyond all measure, and the cries of the prisoner trapped in the cauldron;
Cries of the noble and the chosen, cries from the crematorium;
Cries of "Mother, save me, Mengele is coming"—children and infants to Mengele, the elderly swept away to Mengele’s grill;
Mengele’s grill, Yudli’s guinea pig, and the butcher who slaughtered, sliced, and spread;
The torch of the shadow of death and the Angel of Death—the torch and its sharp flame, the Tommy gun in hand;
The eternal torch, the enlightened torch, the glittering torch, and the blazing torch;
The process of "purifying the race" ended incomplete—venom, destruction, and a bloated belly on the cross;
Gas chambers while not an eyelid flutters; fish in the lap while the world yawns;
The Children of Israel in line for Azazel and Azrael—an act of baseness upon the face of the earth;
The vile idea spanning the globe, the wretched idea—Hitler’s idea;
Death in installments—only for Jews; death through torture and agony;
An innocent entry into a warm shower, as the Angel of Terror draws near;
Gas from the nozzle or a bullet to the head; gold teeth or the searing flame;
To survive is not merely to breathe, and not breathing is no picnic;
A shower or burial beneath; a shower or eternal rest;
A shaved head before the shower, and gassed water awaiting the Jews;
Flowing water or lurking gas; water and steam or the gas of the dead;
The cleansing pipe or the gas of annihilation; a shower and refreshment, or extermination. A mark—
A shower from above, or naked death; a cleansing and a shower, or a grave beneath.
No home, no title—only Kapos and the Gestapo.
Strip off your clothes, take off your coat—then the shower, and Azrael.
We are born with a scream, and a lifetime of screams follows;
We are born with anguish, our lives cast between two eternities.
Thrown into the arena—the battle of life and a thousand wars—
Drafted into conflict to amass suffering and distress.
When the hour strikes, God checks for no titles or diplomas;
Proof is demanded: certificates of torment and scars.
We undergo refinement in a sea of suffering and cataclysms;
Pogroms in the Diaspora forged a people of unique mettle;
In the Holocaust, Jews fused their souls for eternity;
Today, in every field of science, Jews achieve preeminence;
A Jew creates a patent and secures exclusive rights to it;
And in future incarnations, they are born to ever-loftier heights.
Man is a pendulum swinging between a smile and a tear;
That human being who has never suffered the slightest pain,
Who never fell ill and remained healthy every hour—
What, then, is this ever-healthy specimen?
He is a monster—even if your ears have never heard it said.
Man is born to blush and to tremble;
Man is born for torment, suffering, and more;
Man is born for the battlefield—that is his destiny;
Man is born for the anguish that multiplies with every stumble.
Man is cast into a world of endless trials and tribulations;
The most delicious, bitter wine is always pressed
From ideals that were crushed and pierced him like a needle.
Nature crushes us, offering no solace;
In the universe, man is but a pin in a haystack,
And as hardships rain down upon every individual,
He is a tiny cog, his worth diminished;
There is scarce a difference between his existence and his absence.
It is a law of the heavens to which he is bound;
From birth to death, the crushing weight upon us never lifts.
Common sense teaches us that our entire existence
Is but a brief flash across the span of our lives,
A gleam of light between two eternities;
Life itself is a mere flicker throughout our days,
And our existence is little more than a doze.
Our body is an anvil for pain, and our minds
An endless hive for the torments we endure,
While the hammer of fate strikes us and refines us.
What is life? A single tragedy,
Yet spiritual elevation is the fruit we gain;
Viewed from afar, life is a comedy that makes us laugh.
Life in close-up—a defining tragedy;
Life is a flame being slowly consumed,
Yet it flares anew with every mother giving birth—
With the birth of every infant, it ignites again.
Each morning, one is destined to swallow
A hive of bees, yet also a frog;
For every setback holds a blessing, and you must heed
The dance and the song, and together, shed tears too.
God created both the good and the evil—
To gladden hearts, yet also to rend them;
Thus awareness is sharpened—a well-known truth—
And the uninitiated soul finds salvation.
Not for free; a price must be paid.
The vast contrast between good and evil
Generates profound stimulation and shock;
Only powerful shocks sharpen one's thoughts,
And through torment and suffering, awareness is honed.
Creation is not merely a matter of thought;
It is a sublime awakening, an abundance of the transcendent—
A symphony born solely of scars.
Our soul possesses a certain virginity of understanding,
And it must bleed to attain refinement—
Noble traits, spiritual virtues, and exalted qualities.
It is likened to precious, fragrant plants:
When pressed and crushed continuously,
Their scent grows sweeter, gladdening the heart.
Success lays bare one's flaws and vices,
While adversity reveals noble and sublime character.
That precious pearl among the gems of virtue—
Prized by all who seek moral excellence—
Is forged through the suffering of life’s trials and yearnings.
Of all counselors, the best—proven time and again—
Are suffering and the fraying of nerves;
No advisor in human history compares to the strain that tests the soul.
Happiness is the sum total of disasters
And troubles that were averted or transformed into salvation.
In our world, no one can truly be happy
Without first enduring a state where
Parts of their spirit are struck with paralysis—
For only upon the heads of the healthy rests the crown of health.
Only the afflicted truly see,
For adversity reveals genius,
While abundance conceals it forever.
Inspiration is but one percent of genius;
The rest is sweat—sheer, total effort.
No one achieves greatness
Without feeling a part of themselves belong to humanity;
And greatness is the twin sister of sorrow.
Great tasks draw sorrow to themselves,
Like high mountains that attract storms,
And all ideas are born of agonizing labor pains.
Imagination is the fluid medium in which art
Develops the very essence of humanity.
Any rational person knows that sound judgment requires a keen sense of proportion; yet, the captains of our ship have entrusted our fate—and abandoned us—to individuals with a completely distorted sense of proportion. Furthermore, any rational person knows that in a war between Israel and Iran—assuming both sides possess nuclear weapons—it is Israel that would be destroyed, not the vast, sprawling Iran (unless the Messiah were to appear and save Israel). Any rational person also knows that for Israeli jets searching for missile launchers in Iran, the task is akin to finding not merely a needle in a haystack, but a needle on the summit of Mount Ararat. Let us, therefore, cast aside cheap hubris and be more objective: neither Israel nor the United States will ever attack Iran with nuclear bombs—a fact any rational person should understand. In a conventional war, Iran would defeat both Israel and the United States—the latter merely "throwing stones" from over ten thousand kilometers away after its regional bases had been utterly obliterated. As for the aircraft carriers—do not be deceived by the illusion; they are nothing more than a cheap spectacle and a smokescreen. Consider the cost of maintaining U.S. bases in the Gulf states: a trillion dollars annually—that is a trillion, or a thousand billion. Explain to me where you see even a shred of motivation for the United States—especially with Trump, who is effectively held by the short and curlies—to remain in the Middle East and stake its global prestige there, rather than pursuing a diplomatic settlement and the establishment of a state. …a demilitarized Palestinian entity, followed by the expansion of the Abraham Accords to include Iran itself, all other Arab nations, and non-Arab Islamic states. If Netanyahu continues to surrender our fate to that "hilltop youth" figure Smotrich—and to a constituency that is largely ignorant and driven by thuggery for thuggery’s sake (much like the far-right, which lacks any ideology beyond bullying and an adrenaline rush)—then those with the means should simply pack their bags. As for the rest, they will likely have no choice but to commit suicide rather than live under an imminent fundamentalist Islamic dictatorship—a reality as plain as day to anyone not blind. Personally, I have already begun establishing part of my family in Romania while Netanyahu keeps handing the reins to that "hilltop youth" Smotrich. Furthermore, any rational person can foresee that it won't take science many decades to invent an alternative to oil; once that happens, the West will withdraw from the Middle East. (I myself have already developed a revolutionary invention—scientifically and practically engineered—to extract green energy from cosmic dark matter; it is worth trillions, and I am currently offering it for sale.) Meanwhile, the Christian world today is almost entirely secular and does not believe in the coming or revelation of the Messiah—neither in Israel nor anywhere else. Consequently, Israel will be left to face the surrounding Arab and Islamic worlds alone, only to be swallowed whole without a trace. Are the hotheads leading the country blind to this equation? It is an eternal truth that as the global standard of living rises, the Arab and Islamic worlds will turn their attention to reclaiming their trampled honor, making its restoration a top priority. Did the state’s leaders—from Herzl to the far-right elements in today’s Israeli government—really plan for the "Third Commonwealth" to last only a century? Anyone with a modicum of sense who fails to see this should at least stop burying their head in the sand like an ostrich. We must speak out and explain that Israel should not trade the flu for cancer; currently, Israel is trying to treat cancer with nothing but Panadol. Anyone with a sharp—not distorted—sense of proportion and clear vision—not blindness—understands that cancer requires chemotherapy, not Panadol. Yet, the world would not tolerate such chemotherapy today, even at the cost of a world war. Furthermore, the United States has yet to cleanse itself morally of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings—a stain that will remain for a thousand years—so it is illogical to think it would repeat such an act in Iran and incur universal hostility. As for Major General Brick, I previously refused to listen to him—even though he possesses a keen sense of proportion—because his approach was flawed: he failed to realize that no one would heed him unless he offered an alternative. I, however, *did* propose an alternative—and a robust one at that: the "two states for two peoples" solution, with Israeli Arabs remaining in Israel. This prevents the problem from spiraling into a "second Nakba," and allows figures like Smotrich—and others like him—to eventually mature, come to their senses, and soften their stances.
I place great importance on possessing a keen sense of proportion—a quality that ought to be the primary prerequisite for anyone appointed to the helm of our ship of state; yet, the "lost intellectuals"—who abound in Israel—frequently champion the very laws that end up shooting them in the foot. For instance, I have strong reservations about the personality and behavior of Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu—I would even describe him as a walking disaster zone. His total command of English does nothing to lend him diplomatic gravitas or behavioral merit; to me, his speeches are devoid of substance, save for the body language and television theatrics that captivate the ignorant masses. Sadly, in a democracy, the ignorant majority often holds sway over the enlightened minority. Even among the intelligentsia, many turn out to be lost souls rather than genuine thinkers; they oppose granting a pardon to Netanyahu—who remains at the helm of our ship of state—even when such a move is proposed by President Trump, upon whom our very lives and existence depend. We are effectively in Netanyahu’s thrall—there is no other way to put it; we are his prisoners. A law was enacted, yet people stand there like fools, baffled by it—even though they wrote the law themselves—instead of rewarding Trump. He deserves a reward a billion times over; surely, if I were President, I would pardon a million guilty people in defiance of the law just to repay that so-called "saving angel," Trump.
After all, what is the problem with the Israeli President simply seeking approval via a Knesset vote—where a majority favors granting the pardon—and leaving it at that? This also reminds me of the singer Yuval Dayan, who refused to shake the outstretched hand of U.S. President Biden—having recently adopted the practice of *shomer negiah* (refraining from physical contact with the opposite sex)—yet faced no criticism from any Israeli intellectual, whether genuine or emasculated. Those intellectuals acted like the oblivious, ignorant frog that trusted the scorpion: the scorpion had promised not to sting the frog while riding on its back across the river, yet could not suppress its primal instinct; halfway across, it stung the frog, knowing full well it would drown alongside its victim. I am certain that the intellectuals now railing against a pardon for Netanyahu fully understood that they risked angering Trump and endangering the very existence of the state. If the captain of our ship gets drunk and runs wild, is it justified for us to grab a hammer and nail and punch holes in the hull in the middle of the ocean—much like that scorpion stinging the frog? I have also observed that the finest generals, scholars, professors, heavyweights, and brilliant minds make the very same mistakes I mentioned earlier. This happens because people are not selected based on the most crucial criterion—possessing a sufficiently sharp sense of proportion—but rather based on the sound of their voice, a self-confidence inflated with hot air, and displays of physical or ideological bullying. This pattern holds true across all societies—primitive, enlightened, and even the most enlightened—worldwide. It is the most disheartening thing I have encountered in my eight decades of life. I used to cry out, "Where, oh where are You, God?" until I finally found Him—even grabbing Him by the balls—and proved His existence with mathematical precision, establishing Him as the absolute and sole Creator and Architect. I also came to understand the reason behind the exemplary order of our reality—an order nested within disorder, which is itself nested within order, and so on—such as why He created the inclination for evil alongside the inclination for good within our minds. I have written extensively on His magnificent capabilities and deciphered the strange dynamic between us and Him, despite the vast gap in cognitive levels; all of this you will discover and come to understand as you read my books. Humanity has reached a state of appalling sanctimony—so much so that "human" has become a term of derision rather than praise. A bribe consisting of a cigar and a bottle of champagne is treated as an unforgivable crime—even at the cost of clashing with the US President or facing an Iranian existential threat alone—while simultaneously, that very same person engages in coalition bribery worth five billion shekels and actively fosters ignorance over knowledge. This same sanctimony causes the very lawmakers who enacted the law to fall silent. All of humanity is behaving under this epidemic of sanctimony and a warped sense of proportion, discarding ideals, idealism, the superego, and conscience; they rob us of whatever pride and humility remain, and extinguish whatever inner light might still exist. Thus, a "chicken-shit" history of humanity is being woven on our planet. Anyone who reads this outcry and fails to share it with their acquaintances should consider themselves complicit in the crime—especially if they view themselves as objective and take pride in their own sense of pride and humility.
By Dr. Jon Allenlin | Email: jonallenlion@gmail.com
Woe to humanity—its zealotry, sanctimony, obsession with the present, lack of objectivity, and arrogance; would that God had never created such traits. There is a pure arrogance that justifies itself, and there is an arrogance like a bubble, radiating intense brazenness. Yes, this is a humanity of mere facade rather than substance—a humanity that serves as a metaphor for swinishness, baseness, and vileness.
Even if the Messiah were to appear visibly in Jerusalem—backed by miracles, raising the dead from house to house—today’s materialistic society would remain indifferent. There would be those who refuse to believe, blinded by their zealotry; those who demand a reward before consenting to believe; zealots demanding a thousandfold return; zealots whose complacency could not be shaken by a thousand mountains; zealots who would not relinquish their zealotry for a thousand Jerusalems; zealots who would not trade it even for the Kingdom of the Jews; zealots whom neither the Kingdom of the Jews nor God Himself could soften—zealots unmoved by the Kingdom of the Jews, by God, or by all of humanity. For they ask: "Why *him* and not *me*?"—not merely questioning the identity of the Messiah, but asking why any entity other than themselves should exist—an entity called God. "And what am I doing here? Am I merely a dog-neuterer? All my life I thought I was the King of Kings—striding through the royal chambers like a monarch. It is I, and I alone—His Highness. I am the boss here, and of the universe as a whole—a fact proven by the simple truth that I eat." On the verge of self-destruction, yet who would dare raise their head against his grandeur? He is the one wearing the crown—or so his wife told him—and whoever dares challenge his prestige meets their doom; all humanity breathes under his protection, and reality itself exists solely thanks to him. He struts and preens like a peacock—that is simply his way. The great societal lie—a lie he bought into—dictates that anyone uncomfortable in his presence or orbit should just pack it up—along with the Messiah and God Himself. Here’s a professor, a judge, a lawyer, a doctor, a minister—each with his own car. What Messiah? What nonsense? Where would they even bring him from? To disrupt our routine—each with his own salary? Every nobody has servants; he is "His Highness," building castles in the air, with the laws of the Knesset on his side. He buys bread, food, meat—there is no one like him. He has a home, a wife, and a car; a home, a wife—and they serve only him. He has broken the record, and he is content with it all until his dying day. He long ago broke free from God and His authority, yet now you bring in the Messiah to complicate things? He is used to being a dog barking for his keep at the cats and rabbits around him; he would never tolerate a lion cub in his vicinity. How dare you disturb his peace? If the Messiah were to be born again—reincarnated—his world would collapse; you would complicate everything so terribly. Past incarnations… He remembers, yet has lost his identity; he knows his heart is beating—why disrupt that rhythm? He exists only in the here and now, and in this moment, he doesn't give a damn about you—to him, you are nothing. Yet the beating and pulsing of hearts tell us that souls can be fleeting—lasting mere minutes or even seconds—only to renew themselves, breathe in new realities, and cycle through endless reincarnations. It is a truth he will refuse to heed until his dying day; meanwhile, we see that any spineless wretch would want to let a fart in the face of such a prophecy—and just so he could claim that the fart was released by a hedgehog, the flies gathered round to validate such doggerel.
Woe to humanity—its zealotry, sanctimony, obsession with the present, lack of objectivity, and arrogance; would that God had never created such traits. There is a pure arrogance that justifies itself, and there is an arrogance like a bubble, radiating intense brazenness. Yes, this is a humanity of mere facade rather than substance—a humanity serving as a backdrop for greed, baseness, and vileness.
And every shoe sole, caked in grime, beats a string of pearls—worth a million dollars;
And every dropping in the colon is worth a hundred million, while the dirt beneath a fingernail is worth all the fertilizer in the world;
And every *kana'na*—or a taste from the *Banana* vineyard—and every worm raised in a pumpkin, tastes better than strawberries on a plate;
And every rat’s tail is worth the whip of Ahasuerus;
And as for every glob of pus-filled phlegm—even the finest *sahlab* pales in comparison. Compared to any dripping abscess, the taste of *qatayef* pales;
Compared to any moth in the guava trunk, the taste of *kanafeh* pales;
Compared to any drop of she-donkey urine, the Cave of Stalactites pales—
Yes, yes, that is what humanity is: drops of donkey urine, and even less;
So there is no difference between us and the roaches, the larvae, and even the bacteria.
Would that humans might feel the sting of these knives, and send forth some sign of life—
A burden too heavy for messiahs and God to bear—starting all over again; perhaps they would prefer to retreat,
Seeing no chance of finding a listening ear, for current humanity is obsessed with itself and its own insanity;
And when humanity’s madness knows no bounds, look where we’ve landed—what a landscape, what a sham.
And so, every fool dons an ephod and ignores God, while every scoundrel sharpens his sword against the messiahs;
And every deviant, pervert, and schizophrenic—straight from the gutter—and every turd swimming in its bubble,
Thinking himself a Jesus-double, lets it all go, his values shattered like *kofta*;
And every "brave" tough guy suddenly turns into a hawk of prey;
And every vile, accursed wretch—thirsting for blood, his values defiled—claims he alone is innocent;
And every spineless coward—inheriting a wretched, furrowed soul—and every rat, teeming with filth,
Deserves a pickaxe blow to the head;
And every mouse—bitter in the company of crickets—and every pig… God. Mighty, filling the entire sheepfold. And every obstinate soul—from the tiniest speck to the loftiest cluster—reaches out; he covets his mother’s honor yet loses his own forever, drifting toward ruin—toward the radish, the peach, the pomegranate, and the oak; humanity, that baboon; the watermelon, the melon, and the cucumber. And every cheap sandal—casting honor aside until a stench wafts from it—loses all dignity, leaving shame standing at the threshold. And every bastard—suckling at his mother’s teat like cheap cognac…
Woe to humanity—its envy, its feigned innocence, its obsession with the "now," its lack of objectivity, and its arrogance; would that God had never created such traits. There is a pure arrogance that justifies itself, and an arrogance like a bubble, radiating aggressive crudeness; yes, this is a humanity of mere facade rather than substance—a humanity that serves as a metaphor for greed, baseness, and vileness.
And every foul stench—prone to mania, born of fabrication; and every germ—eluding the spray, yet lingering right here…
And every fool—bewildered and rushing to pin every blemish upon God; and every loudmouth—a village chief by day, yet bitter before his wife; with no values to speak of, dwelling in a swamp of sin—seething and resentful, yet full of pomp, charging at God and the Messiah like a steam engine, fancying himself a hero—mere plywood, a flawed and broken thing.
And every blockhead—filled with sand and chalk; and every hothead—filled with nothing at all. And every bottomless pot, its head filled with muck; and every foul malady and fever—a head like a shallow dish, seeking a brain the size of a needle within a heap of offal; and every rocky crag, born of countless sins and greed, now sowing seeds of values—such is nature’s will; and every creeping thing that sucked at its mother’s breast—stumbling blocks and gravel.
And every thorn-in-the-side—fit only to be fried on a wire—now stands as an antenna for values, puffed up and absurd.
And every absolute zero, every rabble of buffoons, every "who’s who" and "what’s what," and even the one who merely exists—they are as if they were not: borrowed for free, invisible; dominoes, indeed, yet existing as non-entities; their conscience silenced, yet they are not truly human; the story is complete and done—they hold the final ruling in their hands.
And every cur reviles God, and by evening they have already forgotten—is the Creator, then, a monkey? What a shape and what a sight—to land in such company; when will it vanish from our reality? It exists here only by a fluke. And when shall we reach the shore? Cast them into infinity, strike them down and hunt them; every nobody needs a circular saw to take off his head—that’s enough.
And every frog bursts upon the trash heap; they have no equal in the world. And every trivial thing in the rally race is a mountain of nonsense.
And every blockhead—dormant brain, a walking defect, a void of nothingness, naked in shame and stuffed with disgrace, neither screw nor nut—God on high, we salute You at attention: send them a *boom*. And every defective type is an "architect" today, playing the part, smeared in filth, eating the mortar while the wall collapses; he pokes around inside us, merely quoting our values while committing a thousand sins.
And every drifter needs to boost his ego at the expense of a screwed-up God; every drifter needs a jolt—let him get his fill of sucking, that prick.
Oh, humanity—the envy, the feigned innocence, the obsession with the "now," the lack of objectivity, and the arrogance. Would that God had never created such traits. There is a pure arrogance that justifies itself, and an arrogance like a bubble radiating aggressive crudeness; yes, this is a humanity of mere scenery rather than substance—a humanity that is a metaphor for swinishness, baseness, and vileness.
And every drifter who swallows a prick—swallowed deep, truly jammed tight—and every… A castaway with a shackled mind, bearing an imprint etched without reason;
A hollow void, worthless as spit—neither bitter nor sweet—clinging like a bear’s crushing hug, latching on like a leech until you’re carried off on a stretcher. He shares your space, suffocating you in spring and autumn; the space is his, while you and the truth are merely his shadow. He is the Great Lie; you and the truth stand opposite him. He is all-powerful—beware of falling near him. Such is the case with every worthless wretch: though he isn't worth a rat’s tail, you dare not rouse him nor shine a light on him. He possesses a malignant mind—nothing about him is sound—and immense, overwhelming power; in his stupidity, he rouses a thousand cities, banishing your sleep and stripping away your peace. He soars in his complacency, ruling even the air; the universe was created for him alone, for he is the sole sage of his generation.
Every button becomes a signpost or a traffic light; he directs, navigates, regulates—and spouts nonsense.
Every straw is mere drivel—churned and kneaded into a blur—and every speck of dust is a shareholder in the haze.
Every base, wretched creature—rotting in vileness and degradation—is not merely low and vile; he is a worm, an insect, a germ, a cockroach, a foul stench, a weaponized turd. Every regret of his is a brick-headed blunder, not worth a penny.
And every tiny fragment—every speck— A wall, and a mind of chalk, and every particle unseen enough, suffering from an empty void,
And every onion, and a flabby brain, with its head above an El Al jet, and every louse—listed in the "Insectlopedia" as an invention and a fiction,
And every glob of phlegm—unclean and foul—and a head full of soot, and every leech not worth a piece of Bazooka gum,
And every tick—a gang member, a lie and a fabrication—and every trash can: foul, lowly, and a fool to boot,
And every cigarette ash—a disgrace and a scandal—and every anus, practically the Elysian Fields,
And every pain in the ass—landing right at the White House gates—and every saucer, for whom the ocean is but a bald spot,
And every handle, longer than the peak of Ararat, and every cup and mug, containing the entire world within,
And every spiderweb, standing up to a thousand steamrollers, and every ashtray—God never created its like,
And every scrap of paper, heavier than a thousand mountains, and every matchstick, filling the earth with terror,
And every onion skin, worth an El Al jet, and every potato peel, unaware it’s nothing but nonsense,
And every eggplant skin, fancying itself a noble prince, and every grain of sand, worth the sun and the stars above,
And every garlic skin—a head of nothingness and emptiness—and every fart and toot—a head full of chaff and mud,
And every nobody—and every pest—sucking up vileness, with a hand upon… The pulse—the sun that will not rise on the horizon, yet is the sun in the firmament for those who do not hear—brags and seethes, reveling in its own stench;
every nonexistent bud wanders in haste among the stars, while every thorn in the side becomes a scalpel, causing the tower of plunder before it to wither;
woe to humanity—its zealotry, feigned innocence, obsession with the immediate, lack of objectivity, and arrogance; would that God had never created such traits. There is a pure arrogance that justifies itself, and there is a hollow arrogance that radiates aggressive crudeness; yes, this is a humanity of mere facade rather than substance—a humanity that serves as a metaphor for swinishness, baseness, and vileness.
And every speck becomes a Foreign Minister, and every kibbutz a hundred more, and every lump of mud is modeling clay, butter, and margarine;
And every pretty boy is a total sham, for whom scaling Mount Duf is child's play; and every squeaker, every handful of grit, exudes and drips with integrity;
And every pubic hair is longer than a pledge; and every passerby has a history like Bar Kokhba’s;
And every "nobody" is—for our purposes—none other than Moses our Teacher; and every missing person is a "Mister," and every mouse in its hole is a lord;
And every "nothing" dwells in the Élysée Palace; and every "him" is the Prophet Elijah;
And every "whoever-he-is" is a gem of the highest order; and every private is a general—and a samurai, too;
And every "achoo" is a marvel, a Maradona, and a *Gamshi*; and every cough is a stalk reaching for the sun;
And every yawn is a rock singer and King Farouk; and every "yo-yo" dances to his own flute, unaware of who he is;
And every twitch—and every turd in the sewer, and every tomato juice—has Singapore in his pocket, living his life like a metaphor;
And every tack in a shoe—devoid of purpose, thirsting for a cup of poison—lacks even a shred of common sense;
And every heap of trash is worth the whole wide world; a fool and a moron, wretched and led astray;
And every menu leftover is a thousand omelets; and every bucket bottom brings the Ten Commandments;
And every impurity is no different from excrement; And every worthless wretch—not even worth the curse—every garlic skin and blade of grass fancies himself a man of silk; and any dog, without a shred of honesty, would claim he was Mendeleev’s teacher.
Woe to humanity—its envy, feigned innocence, obsession with the here-and-now, lack of objectivity, and arrogance; would that God had never created such traits. There is an arrogance that is pure and self-justifying, and an arrogance like a bubble, radiating aggressive crudeness—yes, this is a humanity of mere facade rather than substance, a humanity serving as a metaphor for swinishness, baseness, and vileness.
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