Сорнячишка так ничего и не ответил по сути заданного вопроса - значит, 3,14здИт про синагогу сатаны. Впрочем, другие шаловичи могут высказаться!

Про аутентичность еврейского народа и Израиля весь цивилизованный мир. Очевидно, шаловичи реально долбое#ические дикари.

Идёшь нахуй, уёбище.)

It makes me cackle to see Rome show up here. He utterly dominates jews with his logical prowess. I wonder if he's written a book somewhere. I know that one of our brothers, "Thomas Dalton", was recently exposed by the kike mafia to be a university professor, so it's best to be careful out there, but not so reticent that you deprive your people of your gifts.

Напоминаю Валерику Ё#нутому, что он Киппуров сынок, Кирсанов холуёк и мумушный дружок.

Пусть приходит, обсудим.

Чувак, ты явно куришь очень плохую траву. Подзаборная шавка Рома так utterly dominates, что сбежала под забор от очень неудобных, принципиально важных вопросов гимнаста ума Palop'а о необходимости конспирологии, войне в Украине, войне на Ближнем Востоке, Безмозговнере и латвийском пидоре Стребковсе.

Hey Elista, I flip you a "shekel", and it flips and it flips, and the sunlight glistens off of it, yet you do not catch it in your palm.

It hits the dirty ground, scattering up dust,  and lands on "tails".

So begins the great "antisemitic" movie.

Ain't that right?

You claim that I dominate the Joos.
Petushok retorts: «That’s not true, he runs away from my principal questions, ko-ko-ko.»
For Petushok’s remark to serve as a valid refutation of your general assertion, he must at minimum be a member of that group, independently of the truth or falsity of his claim that «he runs away from me». Otherwise, his example is irrelevant to your claim. Therefore, by the simplest law of reasoning, his own statement implies: Petushok is a Joo. Indeed, debating with him is futile, akin to waltzing endlessly with folly."

By the way, Rangordnung, I would like to welcome you to the forum; I find it highly rewarding to explore the viewpoints of our American comrades.

We'll try some simple logic here that might seem obvious but I've seen MANY people fall for it. Start with the idea that a jew is a liar. If a jew is a liar, and you ask a jew if it's a jew, then clearly it's going to lie about it.

The rule of thumb is, if you get the scent that it's a jew, assume it's a jew. Especially with all the plastic surgery and colognes these days (I probably don't have to remind you of the consistent accounts across all of history of the atrocious STENCH of jews.)

It doesn't really matter anyway, because, speaking of the recent Kirk posts, when I saw Kirk get shot I saw a jew getting shot. In the circles I used to run in Kirk was always a laughingstock. The jews' little golems are at times indistinguishable from their creators.

There's still a hierarchy of different tiers we can isolate though. Similar to Elista's idea of "triple standards" except it's far more than three perspectives. At a certain IQ a goy can behave very similar to a kike.

Anyway,

"By the way, Rangordnung, I would like to welcome you to the forum; I find it highly rewarding to explore the viewpoints of our American comrades."

Wow, thank you! Honestly, I've not felt too welcome so far, but I can't blame them because Americans really are the scum of the earth. Or more precisely, the main target of the Kahal at the present time, and one can certainly witness this in the quality of its citizens (i.e. Tikkun Olam seeks to "de-spark" the souls of the gentiles).

I mostly just wanted to show my appreciation for all of the brilliant Russian writers I've been introduced to here by suggesting some from my side of the world that people here might not be familiar with.

The following is from Harold Covington's The Brigade:

"“No one is coming. Couldn’t be more perfect. All right, let’s do it. Masks.” The two Volunteers
pulled navy blue wool ski masks down over their faces and got out of the SUV. At an even pace
they walked toward the dimly seen couple going toward the restaurant entrance, who were a bit
more ahead of them than Zack had anticipated. They might have had to run to catch up, but the
man stopped to close his umbrella in the well-lit doorway. They were perfect targets. “God,
please don’t let anyone open that door right now,” whispered Zack in silent prayer.
When they were five feet behind the two expensively dressed people, some sound or
sense made the Goldmans both turn. They stared at two men coming out of the darkness just
beyond the pool of friendly light and laughter, masked so that only the black of their eyes could
be seen, and leveling revolvers at them. The two gunmen said nothing, but Jacob Goldman
gasped out in a strangled cry, “You!”
All four of them understood what Jacob Goldman had said. He did not know or recognize
the men who were about to put him to death. They had always been far beneath him, part of the
scenery he saw from the window of his luxury car or a plush office suite, animals who through
some accident of nature resembled God’s Chosen People in outward form, but whom the sages
of Torah assured him were beasts without souls. Yet he knew who they were, and why they were
here. Four thousand years of racial instinct crackled in a moment of cosmic, hideous recognition
and knowledge. A timeless drama was once again about to be played out, an ancient debt was
once more to be paid, and blood was about to be spilled once more in humanity’s longest war.
The men before Jacob Goldman could have been wearing Roman armor, or Crusaders’ chain
mail, or Cossack leather and furs, or the black tunic of the SS. Now they wore denim jeans and
ski masks, but oh, yes, he knew them. Now he was going to die, because they knew him as well,
knew him for what he was.
At the head of the plank bridge on the shore, Charlie and Lee Washburn had the windows
rolled down in their Toyota. They heard the shots and saw the muzzle flashes in the rain. A
minute later, the Yukon rolled by them, and Zack waved a friendly thumbs-up out the window.
Charlie pulled around and followed him up 39th Street and out onto the main road, Zack turning
left and he himself right. They would go to the de-briefing rendezvous by separate routes."

Не лги лжец и не смеши тапочки шнеерсона. Жид - это ты. И ты это многократно доказал здесь своими делами. Ибо сказано:
"По плодам их узнаете их" (Мф. 7:16 и 7:20)