The Art of Deception Masquerading as Art

Having paid exorbitant entry fees, my wife, myself and a couple of friends visited the Tutankhamun Exhibition of Tomb Treasures at the Saatchi Gallery, off London’s Kings Road.

A certain gloom began as we walked along Kings Road to get to the Duke of York’s Barracks, now purloined and converted into the Saatchi Gallery. All  three of these names are seminal to what I shall write below.

First a bit of history: In my days as one of the industry’s leading photographers in the heady 70s/80s and early 90s, The Kings Road was one of those focal points of rebellion against society, a fashionable trend setting alternative to the elite’s programming and containment of the masses. Its iconic position in the history of this country is well established. Walking down what can only be described as a ghostly image of its former self, sadness and loss flooded memories of bygone revolution, glory, excess and outright fun and halcyon days and nights.

Entering the Saatchi Gallery it was immediately noticeable how the Saatchi curse reigned omnipotent. All the talk of the curse of the Pharaohs, unleashed when the grave robbers of antiquities opened Tut’s tomb, seems to have morphed into this present incarnation.

grave-robbers

British and French Grave Robbers

More history: Saatchi and Saatchi in its heyday was the creative go-to agency for the great and good corporate messaging needed to convince the gullible mind, through the manipulative dark arts of advertising and marketing. Margaret Thatcher, the Conservative Party, British Airways, Toyota amongst their clients. Awards, rapturous adoration and fawning praise rained down on these two, frankly, wide boys of the biz. Growth was never organic but mostly gained from predatory take overs. The archetypes of rampant banksterism and corporate criminality, aka great business acumen!

As one who sought the great campaigns, Saatchis would have been a go-to appointment. Even in my relatively innocent days I smelled bullshit, bravado and self serving ingratiation. When approached to work for them I refused, to the consternation of my peers. I had seen behind the curtain and it stank. Like Conde Nast, the publishers of Vogue et al, they expected you to worship the ground they paid exorbitant rental for and work for peanuts. Many did under the delusional false flag they would advance their profiles. A few did and that only increased the lie association and awards. Awards would merely put saccharin substance to a reputation.

In short, they successfully sold their BS and self serving attributes raking in huge fees from a sycophantic, money no object client base, never really sharing that down to either the majority of creatives in house or those bought in through commission.

The ticket prices for this exhibition showed me their talent for self serving greed, excessive abuse of public gullibility has not waned. More so, because of today’s control of mental faculties, or more likely the lack of them, from the general public. Their superlative marketing skills (manipulations), allowed Saatchi to cream from the many visitors tickets, handheld talk thru/translators, the café and gift shops et al.

So all this aside, what about the contents of the exhibition?

It was hyped as original pieces from the tomb and times of King Tut. Some of the most meaningful, significant artefacts. Transparently missing were the famous headgear and other promised displays. Wandering around the various galleries I noticed immediately, starting with a  promotional film, selling grave robber Carter’s exploits and potted Egyptian history lesson, this was just another advertising ‘hit’ by Saatchi, on behalf of their purse and the continued false history storyline we have  been fed since 19th century Egypt mania began.

It got no better. The so called ‘artefacts’ may have looked the part and certainly awed many trooping round, sticking their noses to glass, snapping off handheld memories, destined to the hollow graveyard of social media. These pieces had zero energetic connection factor. What do I mean by that?

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photo©2020 jonathantrapman.com

On my several visits to Egypt, to tombs, buildings and the internal parts of pyramids both publicly accessible and private, the immense connection is palpable. Without touching, yet in the presence within these places and by their contents, be it the Valley of the Kings, Giza, Sakkara, Luxor or Abydos, to name a few, one felt the magnificence, the awe, magic and wonder. It was often a truly a time travel experience of wonder. Often a download of information from some parts mentally received would be verified later by those whose charge it was to know the history, acknowledge specific events and on site indigenous archeologists. Information I hasten to add neither myself nor others were privy to till then. In short, you truly felt a connectivity to the past.

Back in the gallery, it was like a meeting with the dead – full stop. Similar to a visit in the Toronto Science Museum in the seventies, where they had a ‘silent room’ The experience of which was to sense absolutely nothing – except the pain felt when total silence is experienced. In the Saatchi Gallery it was precisely that yet a pain garnered from a sense of deep fraud.

I felt maybe it was me. Chatting with a couple of ladies from Leeds in the cafe, who had ransomed their meagre pensions to witness this ‘spectacle’ their feelings mirrored mine completely. One remarked as to whether they were the real deal. I suggested they might have a point, though I was in no way able to prove my feelings. All I said was that it was not beyond  Saatchi to employ fakery as they had in earlier years been adept at and richly rewarded for it.

Our friends and my wife later felt precisely the same, about the authenticity of the pieces. I have to add that these three have great acuity to this sort of energetic intuitive interaction.

In mitigation perhaps it might have been the hermetically sealed cases these objects were bound, mummified, in. On that point one friend assured me this would not cause a blanket and lock down of ‘energetic’ connectivity. Perhaps it may be unfair to lay total blame at the feet of Saatchi. Having derived from antiquities held by museums outside Egypt, these may have been replicas all along. Maybe the Egyptians, British, French,  whoever, conspired to never show the real things from the outset. Such are the thoughts of one who has witnessed too much trouncing and traducing from the powers that be, in hoodwinking people into believing whatever they wish them to believe. I shall leave all this for the reader to make their own mind up, and resist playing the conspiracy charge.

One thing I have experienced, when visiting over the decades sacred places, history and magnificence of an era in human existence, is to wonder how much of its true nature has been excluded, covered up from our learning, absorbing and benefiting, in order that  empire maintains their vice of a reality of their own creation – that of the victor’s history. It is mightily apparent this process was alive and well throughout the Pharaonic dynasties. Just notice how many grand statues and edifices of a previous reign have been wilfully desecrated to disempower what went before.

Finally the cold dank hand of deception, manipulation and fakery as we exited the exhibition was palpable. I commented perhaps all we had picked up on and much of the energy of the exhibits on show was kindled by the fact the building itself was, until recently, the HQ for the Duke of Yorks regiment. The war machine’s central axis housing both those offered up as cannon fodder and led, from behind, by generals and officers  encouraging good and innocent men to their death in the name of empire and futile wars. All under the guise of a great specious cause, King and Country.

That it reflects the name of the present Duke of York, an unmitigated agent of pedophilia and bestiality is no coincidence. Representative of everything that reeks of power, corruption and division, under the guise of Great Britannia, it is saturated with the bullshit, lies and deceit emanating from the prow of this antiquated monstrosity of a vessel.

Saatchi is merely a perfumed acolyte of this perversion, getting rich on the coat tails of fawning, so called creativity and art. Nearby, on the walk up Kings Road we witnessed a virulent example of his greed seeking, foul-charactered family. They own a very substantial house next to a client of my friend. When this individual wished to ‘clear’ their property of ‘nanky’ energies and realign their property to balance, an attritional  amount of resistance, abuse and venom from their Saatchi neighbour made it very clear arrogance, pomposity and self serving interests projected from this multi-millionaired individual, was all that mattered. Not that I needed confirmation of any of that. Old news!

Saatchi may be renowned for ‘discovering’ new artistic talent, being a philanthropic essential in today’s virtual signalling market, yet truth be told Saatchi philanthropy is utterly self serving. I know this in microcosm, from using their selling base for my artistic works. That may sound contraindicative, however contrary to them abusing creatives in years gone by, I use their standing on my own terms, not theirs. In this way I am able to service my own integrity of output, as well as using their platforms. A good example as to how in a small way we can control and keep some measure balance, in relation to these oft out of control forces.

That the artefacts, real or copies are returning to their origins is good to know. What we may never know is – were we sold a pup from start to finish? As with the truth about history, we may never know for certain, yet as with everything, each action is indicative of the degree of leaning towards deception or veracity. That is always under our individual control both in art and life.

May we encourage ourselves towards integrity, truth and greater decency of each to all. That way we drown out, like the Red Sea did to the pursuing armies of Pharaoh, the tyrants’ overlording in our midst. Remember all that glitters is not gold.

©2020 –   Jonathan Trapman

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About the Author:

Jonathan L. Trapman

Author and photographer writing since age 9, photographing since age 10. A professional career as photojournalist, working for top titles in Fleet Street (London Times, Daily Express and very short, boring stint with the Sun newspaper) swiftly exposes him to propaganda and half truths demanded from photo/journalists of the ‘70s and 80s.

Deciding his soul to be worth more than shekels earned from the news rooms of corporate cronyism, went on to  become one of the industry’s foremost photographers. Enjoyed getting to know the world, its peoples and a far wider vision of life on earth on others’ behalf and at others’ expense. Appeared on TV and radio including BBC, France Inter and online radio.

Invited to speak at creative and literary conferences across the globe having in early 2012, in partnership with his wife, accomplished the first ever English translation, in over 900 years, of 11th century Sufi founder and mystic saint Hoja Ahmed Yassawi’s Diwani Hikmet (Divine Wisdom) poetry and sacred verse. Currently working on a 7 volume opus The Freedom Cycle, Dreams and Realities being the first, now published. www.thefreedomcycle.com
www.jonathantrapman.com

 

When Truth Gets Crucified They Laugh and Curse A Tuneless Christmas Carol

For the Many not the Few was the battle cry for a New Hope, a Brighter Beginning.

The Few saw The People rise to this flame of hope. They threw fire engines, metaphoric tear gas, lies and bullshit, all they had at their disposal. To allow this flower to blossom and flourish would have been the signing of their death warrant. Propaganda of the worst kind, energised on steroids, was brought to bear.

The Many rallied to a voice echoing their deepest feelings, their greatest dreams of a new tomorrow where empathy, honesty, truth, loving kindness and all the best human values would be respected and more importantly, rewarded.

The Beast of the Hard Right, the Establishment, those hidden hands running the machine were having none of it. They saw red. Every manipulation, connivance and trick in the Machiavellian book was brought to bear. Normally the scales of sway from left to right are handled, controlled and served up as choice, while all the time under their guiding hand. However what faced them was a spark so incendiary as to ignite a powder keg of change so radical, giving the people the loudest voice.

An idiot buffoon paraded, parodied and planted full front stage. Strutting his buffoonery, lies and mendacity he and his cohorts laughed at what became a greater, more gullible public. Most people never drift far from the market square stocks and public hanging mentality. The media, through television and press followed strict instructions to vilify like there was no tomorrow. The idiot savant was proclaimed a saviour. The enemy from within, the Marxist, communist, terrorist loving traitor portrayed and blasted through every orifice, from every portal of controlled broadcast. So loud the programming, the still small voice of sanity and hope was forcible drowned out and made the evil of the hour.

Such separation from sanity, freedom and the return of ownership by the people for the people needed  force feeding as solution. It came in the form of a crafted stitch up – a referendum offering leave or stay in a system of unelected, disparately divisive globalist neo-liberalist governance. Like ravenous wolves the public did what it does best when called on, through Pavlovian platitudes – it danced the well rehearsed frenetic tango of divisive hatred, vilification and blame of others. It drank the vacuous rewards offered as absolute. Damn it, the people had danced that dance, fed the steps for centuries. Little England, nationalism of a United kingdom, the rights of all against a hegemony so un-British. Churchill’s ghost raised from the dead, dangled as once again winning the day, the war and the freedom it so predictably had offered previously. Yet its chimera merely became the soulless solution painted as reality by the psychopathic power hungry.

The chords of nationalism strummed a tireless anthem of Them against Us. Of course it worked, history taught by the victors always worked. It never has been the game of truth.

Brilliant manipulation that would have made Herr Goebbels swell with pride took front and centre behind the curtain. Media controlled and fed each daily script, belched out conditioning turning ill prepared into performing monkeys at the ballot box. 

Like so many parts of the Western hegemonic world, truth was slaughtered in plain sight in every market square. A public, whose weariness of reality drove them deeper into the virtual world, where augmented reality showered them with holographic meadows of fruitfulness and heavenly uplands. Gagging for more toys, as truth was forcibly ejected from the pram, lies and deception were accepted and drunk down as the toxic elixir it was. The deceived, unwitting to their self deception, Twitted out, retweeting bile that led to the  public crucifixion of truth. Insanity, becomes an insidious fungus, pervasive and well established into the very fabric of the people.

Anti Sanitism raged like Nature’s bushfires around the world, starving humans of the life giving oxygen of critical thought and the breath of freedom. The mighty fist, unseen by so deaf and deluded, prepared itself to be brought down with a vengeance on the unsuspecting many.

A festive Christian-based season is birthing an anti Christ that even the Church supports through its impious collusion. The poor, far from being able to inherit the earth are being buried in it, dying of starvation, deprivation and disregard. The sick, falling from trolleys too overloaded to take the strain find even less comfort on the floors and passageways of a broken, about to be auctioned National Health Service. The meek and benefited are silenced as unfit for purpose. The season of joy parodied within the halls of the millionaires and billionaires is decked with such extravagance only  Fortnums and Harrods can supply. Real world suffering another world away, too toxic to engage with.

The pound shops are broke, food banks burst with deposits from those caring enough to assuage their generosity yet not aware enough to vote them into history. Streets littered with the homeless  soon filled with snow and ice, culling yet more thousands of the uncared for. Press and television news will portray this as unfortunate, yet promote far better times ahead we are extricated from the talons of the EU.

A bloated Parliament of self interest, professing care and unity for all, will milk a system so loaded in their favour, to make sure their tables are filled to plenty. Platitudes, like Christmas cracker jokes, will be offered as encouragement, even though teeth grindingly vacuous in the season of so called goodwill to all.

The small, much reduced voice of sanity, truth and reason  continues to be vilified, with its remnants roasted on the spits of hollow harvest. Its charred remains scattered over a New Year in public view, by those barely recognising the dawn of 2020 they so vociferously voted in.

The British love their long festive holiday season, even though bought at the expense of even larger, more extended credit. Avaricious bailiffs, zombie debt collectors and  Banksters all wait in the wings, for a fruitful terrorism to transpire  into plunder.

The Establishment and self obsessed, quaffing gallons of bubbly, will raise their glasses to another campaign in the ever winning war on the enslaved and mentally putrid. Next stop is serious culling of the unwashed and unwanted, while kidding them to believe the illusion their captors are their saviours and it’s all the fault of climate change

Truth’s spark, never able to be snuffed out, flickers like a far off beacon awaiting, as always, the bellows of desire to rekindle its place as gatekeeper of exposure, revelation and obliteration of deceit.

You Are Fighting in The Most Important Battle of All Time

Caitlin Johnstone

If you are reading this, it’s most likely the result of a series of events in your life which have drawn your interest and attention to the fact that our world is quite a bit different from what we’ve been told by our school teachers, by the news media, by Hollywood, and by politicians.

At some point, for whatever reason, you’ve come to realize that the consensus narratives in our society about what’s going on are false. The tools that people are taught to use to inform themselves about their government, their nation and their world are not just full of inaccuracies, but deliberate distortions, ranging from the reasons we’re given for why wars are started, to the way our political systems work, to where real power and authority actually lies, to the way nations and governments actually behave in the world.

This awareness has come with a degree of alienation. Not buying into the same consensus narratives about the world as your friends, loved ones and peers comes with an inability to relate to them on some levels, which can cause you to feel a lack of intimacy in those areas. You may have also found yourself the odd one out in conversations about politics or other controversial issues, maybe even lost old friends over it.

But you kept going anyway. For some of us, it’s more important to be true to the truth than it is to fit in. You’re one of those people.

So, I just want to say thank you. Sincerely. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’m on-my-knees grateful to anyone who sets about untangling themselves and their species from the deceitful narratives which pervade our society. It is the most important battle that can possibly be fought. The most important battle that has ever been fought.

There is nothing more important than this fight. Our species is on a sure trajectory toward Orwellian dystopia if climate collapse or nuclear war don’t send us the way of the dinosaur first, and the only thing that has the power to steer us out of that trajectory is the people using the strength of their numbers to force an end to the oppressive, ecocidal, omnicidal status quo.

But they don’t. The people don’t use the strength of their numbers to force an end to the oppressive, ecocidal, omnicidal status quo, because they aren’t interested in doing so. Why aren’t they interested in doing so? Because their minds are being manipulated on a mass scale by the same people who have been granted immense power and wealth by the existence of that status quo.

All of mankind’s biggest dilemmas are ultimately due to the fact that propaganda is far more ubiquitous and far more advanced than most people realize.

And it’s not their fault. Not really. Nobody teaches you in school that throughout your entire life your plutocratic overlords will be working to control the thoughts in your head using a highly sophisticated arsenal of psychological operations funneled into your mind via their near-total control of the media. Nobody warns you as a kid that if you ever really want to grow up, you’ll first have to extricate the vast network of lies which have been deliberately sewn into your consciousness since birth.

But their tricks didn’t work on you. You found your way out of that matrix of deception. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t comfortable, but you did it. And now you’re ready to fight.

And fight you have. You have already been doing what you can to share information which counters the disinformation, doing your best to throw sand in the gears of the propaganda machine and show people the little gaps in the code of the matrix in the hope that some light sleeper might spot it and begin waking up from the dream. You don’t need me to tell you to do this, because it’s obvious to anyone who’s seen through the illusion. You’re doing it already.

And you’re going to keep doing it. And you’re going to get better at it.

You’re going to get better at it because you’re going to keep learning and gaining a better and better understanding of how the oppression machine operates, so that you can describe it more lucidly to others.

You’re going to get better at it because you’re going to keep practicing your craft: attacking the propaganda matrix at its weakest and most vulnerable points at every opportunity. Practice makes perfect, and the more you keep at it the more skillful you’ll get at spotting gaps in its armor and firing the most damaging truth bombs straight into them.

You’re going to get better at it because you’re going to keep doing your own inner work to expunge all lies from your system, from the most surface-level propaganda narratives all the way down to your most fundamental assumptions about the nature of reality itself. You understand that only turkeys are done, and that it will always be possible to get a little bit clearer inside every day. The less your vision is impeded by falsehood, the better you’ll be able to see on the battlefield.

You’re going to get better at fighting, and you’re going to keep fighting no matter what. Not because it’s an easy war, nor even because it’s a winnable war, but because you have made truth your highest value, and untruth is therefore intolerable to you. You will keep attacking the lie factory at every turn until it collapses into its own foundations beyond any possibility of repair. You will keep driving your sword through until you see it come out the other side.

And others will join you, because they have awakened to what’s going on too. And then there will be more of them. And more. And more.

There is no more important fight than this. The survival and wellbeing of our entire species depends upon it. The oligarchs and their government agency allies cannot be defeated as long as their propaganda machine is killing off all desire to defeat them.

You are already engaged in this fight, so my purpose here is only to thank you and to encourage you, and to urge you to redouble your efforts. Never doubt that your energy poured into this effort is well-spent. Never let anyone shame you into silence or make you believe that your efforts are in vain. Never doubt that you’re on the right path.

Your edge is your agility and your access to inspiration. No amount of social engineering can move as fast or shine as bright as the truth.You have everything you need to win, and there are more signs than ever that the win is on the horizon. What once seemed impossible now seems inevitable.

I love you.

Keep pushing.

The best way to get around the internet censors and make sure you see the stuff I publish is to subscribe to the mailing list for my website, which will get you an email notification for everything I publish. My work is entirely reader-supported, so if you enjoyed this piece please consider sharing it around, liking me on Facebook, following my antics on Twitter, throwing some money into my hat on Patreon or Paypal, purchasing some of my sweet merchandise, buying my new book Rogue Nation: Psychonautical Adventures With Caitlin Johnstone, or my previous book Woke: A Field Guide for Utopia Preppers. For more info on who I am, where I stand, and what I’m trying to do with this platform, click here. Everyone, racist platforms excluded, has my permission to republish or use any part of this work (or anything else I’ve written) in any way they like free of charge.

caitlinjohnstoneAbout the Author:

Rogue journalist. Bogan socialist. Anarcho-psychonaut. Guerilla poet. Utopia prepper. Proudly 100 percent reader-funded through Patreon and Paypal. Much work done with assistance from soulmate/brother-in-arms/co-conspirator Tim Foley.Read Caitlin’s articles on Medium here or on Steemit here, follow her on Twitter here, and follow her on Facebook here. You can also subscribe to this website’s mailing list here.If you would like to support Caitlin, you can share her articles around, buy her book, or throw some coin in her hat on Patreon or Paypal.

Shine on.

It’s A Numbers Game for Evil Intent

When such anniversaries as Holocaust Memorial Day are proposed and foisted as our learning yard stick, it is right we all must do our utmost to make sure these horrors are not perpetrated on humankind again. Yet to make sure we focus on just one  horror as the premier be all and end all of horror holocausts creates a dubious and raucous air verging on insidious manipulation.
I find this constant drone of ‘look at this horrendous event as the living breathing proof of evil incarnate’ becoming more and more transparent as a perpetual mind game conditioning generations into believing one relatively small set of characters become the most put upon people in history. Challenging this assumption places myself and many others as a rogues gallery of racists and the good ol’ worn out charge of anti semites. That this is so far from the truth from a personal perspective becomes overridden roughshod by a tired narrative as full of holes as any common sieve.

Being told to believe one particular evil has to be the only evil to focus on allows a dystopian world where only certain self serving evils are tolerated, committed for the greater good and so often for ‘freedumandemokracy’. All others become mere mosquito bites on the atrocity scale for humanity. Over my long life I have watched as this narrative has gained ascendency, become a holy commandment and been the causus belli for all sorts of equal and greater horrors perpetuated.

The hollow phrase of “We must never allow this to happen again and must all learn from history” becomes a clanging bell of vacuity as all around we are shown the very proponents of that shallow imprecation, broken, forgetten and foregone. Inconvenient historical facts obliterated and erased.

In our collective shame we buy into this like so much of the propaganda we swim in today. I am appalled at how easy it is for otherwise sane people to trot off,  support conditions created by one small set of people while in the next breath they decry other peoples, countries and regimes for what they selectively support. Double standards run riot through the normal  scale. Far greater genocides and evil extinctions  are taken off the table, out of sight and mind as their presence, past and present, become inconvenient to an ongoing narrative.

The narrative is very, very specific. It demands adherence to a thought form acknowledging persecution of a minority as the benchmark of guilt and everlasting remembrance from the rest of us.

What happened in the Second World War was humanity at its terrible. Not only those acts perpetrated by the Nazis but also the horrors perpetrated by the Allies. The ownership of genocide in Dresden, deliberate starvation and death brought upon the losers, the utterly unnecessary, from an attritional point of view, nuclear bombing of the Japanese population and much more are varnished, scrubbed and labelled as war necessities.

Today we have witnessed an ever increasing host of slaughter and genocide that far outstrips the real numbers of the German holocaust. Saying that undoubtedly will incur the ire of those proselytising the sacred number, accusing me of heresy.

Daily we witness those who bleat their very special case, perpetrate injustice and criminal action on others they stigmatise as one of them describes as ‘no better and less than animals’. We see the specious, vacuous and downright evil of their own concreted rightness displayed in arrogance of the most abject absurdity.
Over the years I began to recognise the ‘trick’ being played on us all. For those who pride themselves with a critical mind it is only right and proper to stand up, face facts, question legitimacy and call out this virulent cant. When such questioning becomes a crime it is obvious to many the perpetrators of these insidious mind games will go the full distance to ostracise , obstruct and persecute all truth other than their own spurious, fabled version. Their crimes, their stories have been manipulated from the word go, let no one be fooled.

Many who have been caught up in these horrors have had perpetrated on their rightful sufferings an overarching wrong.

It’s a numbers game for a very good reason. Numbers can be used to establish a plot, a disfigurement in seemingly absolute proportions. They are able to easily and swiftly embed a narrative in their vastness, so often blinding us all from any actuality. That very numbers game however can equally be outed and shown to be the fabrication it was designed to be by time and history itself.

What do I mean by that?

scan-new-york-times-six-million-since-1869-composite

Way back before The Holocaust was proclaimed to become the benchmark stigmata upholding a narrative of absolute control, the numbers associated with it were already in wide circulation for many decades before. Each time they were used to illustrate the subjugation of a minority, whose history has been overpainted as historical sufferers. Each time they were thrown into the written word, broadcast propaganda stipulating how decisive and evil was the travesty endured – their message became embedded. All questioning of these uses would be leaped upon like a wolf on its prey. No argument or alternative interpretation is allowed.

I look back through history, the true history, not that of the victors and it becomes apparent perpetration of cruelty, subjugation and genocide has been the hallmark of those calling themselves civilised.
To constantly repeat and adhere to a number in order to indoctrinate a narrative is crass in any sane assessment. That it is and has been challenged and publicly ‘written down‘ from its misinterpreted math is targeted as criminal. To suggest this sacred figure was erroneous not only challenges a manipulation but also destroys a mentally embedded construct lying at the centre of fallacies we are asked to believe.
No one is in any doubt evil acts were perpetrated, no one can and should deny any criminal acts in war. What has to be questioned is why the sacrosanct, absolute has any right not to be questioned, discussed alongside so many other ‘facts’ presented as our true history.
The world becomes a better, more intelligent and properly informed when people question more. To demand the exclusion of this process with certain events must raise the question:  “Why, what and for whose gain?”
Such pronouncements make an agenda more likely, and not a benign one at that.  Like a wounded predator the ‘victims‘ lash out endeavouring to expunge all and any criticism of divergent storylines. All the while they demand their own continued perpetration of illegality foisted on others to be ignored.
I would like to feel at this time of anniversary that we must include without exception the many perpetrations of inhumanity inflicted by us on humanity. Equal relevance cannot afford to be whitewashed, lessened or expunged.
Am I asked to believe one specific evil holds greater import than any other? Because if so then the demand for such nonsensical ‘specialness’ reminds me of those immortal words:
If you wish to know who rules over you then look to those disallowing any criticism or questioning of their actions

Let me leave you with a non exhaustive list of holocausts, genocides and inhumanity having taken place prior to and after the events during the Second World War. I am certain many more can be added, yet it is instructive to remind ourselves of the far less mentioned or scrutinised others at moments such as these:

Armenia
Cambodia
Rwanda
Nazi exterminations
Bosnia
Darfur
American Indians
Kazakh genocide
Albigensian Crusade

Irish genocide
Indian Famine instigated by Britain
East Timor
Soviet Gulag atrocities

Definition of holocaust – destruction or slaughter on a mass scale, especially caused by fire or nuclear war.

Definition of genocide – the deliberate and systematic destruction of a racial, political, or cultural group

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