ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's novel

[SOLZHENITSOF]

SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!





ABBA VITE's Liberalist Novel

THE WORST

VIZ.

THE BEST

By Prof. MES SOLZHENITSOF





ABBA VITE answers to the names SOLZHENITSOF, EBU WELID also, and to Prof. Mesolzhenitsy, Prof. MES (Mustafa Erdoğan Surat), Doctor Solzhenitsof, and Dr. SOLZH , and Newest Work as that at the climax amongst the other books of his published by SMASHWORDS: EXPLORING RELIGION; DATING AND REGIME; JERUSALEM-The Eternal Capital City of the Sons of Israel; GREAT KOBANE; MODERN ODYSSEUS BRITISH FARMERS IN ZIMBABVE SMASHWORDS; PUBLIC COITUS; ABSURD DRAMA THE CORONA MASNAVI; THE BOOK OF SEA SI-SI; EGYPT; THE PHILIP'S NON-BOOK SMASHWORDS





ARCADIA 2020



.................................................. ...........





And Simon turned to the routine way of life he must have adopted already, and pondered on the pavement leading to the school. ‘Youth?’ he asked and someone listened to him hesitantly behind his body in school uniform and nearly to turn his back walking away, and then everyone fell silent in the street for everyone would happen to understand the meaning of Simon-the two hundred years old child-statement in the grammatical form of question that meant good while remarking that everyone’s aunt should live a kind of youth to reach several kind of feature to be described as to be briefed in a simple word, say haggard who couldn’t hear what one would say! According to the law of hyper old age one should know that there could be no way apt to give the chance of wandering in a certain time instead of using ordinary remembrance to remember from the general past of ours say the general hallucination destined to be unreal thoroughly. For example should the whole life of our aunts by side of mom trace back the various positions that full existing things in it have passed through in a whole life within one’s individual history, all pages of its ought to be changed, but in non-reverse order to that in which all positions actually occurred, then the universe, in this non-imaginary case, would still obey the same changing phases’ procedure all over the future including one’s flowing present time as an interval betwixt the past and the future. Testing the non-reversibility, one may remember the younger ages of that very aunt what we might call all old past days as occurred in a real earth on the contrary another real earth may, in which the existence belonging to everything at various moments of time wouldn’t be the same notion as in her two different real earths existing in one body as not same as each other. But Simon the little child soon pulled himself together and told himself, in a tone just muted enough to sound as if he were showing consideration for the mom’s counter consideration, but loud enough for him to hear what was said: ‘I’ll ask teacher about aging.’

‘Oh, so The Europe there used to be peace and constructive civilisation periods in this continent, and there wasn’t terror activity as they fed by hashish lord Hassan Sabah in Iran, was there? Both the peaceful and productive eras the main actors were very well equipped here instead of the industrial revolution wrecked people who had to migrate from the village or towns to the cosmopolitan bit cities to suffer especially from child hiring in mines.’ remarked the teacher and added as a detail that surprised me, but on the whole we had not to have experience that the greatest thing terrorizing the people, say migration even emigration. All sorts of terror should be accepted as a factor of splitting the time and personalities.’



TOME 2

Part III



After the end of his daily work Adela-The Simon’s elder sister-explored in a low degree panic that his cell phone was not in its proper place she used to install monitored as in mute mode. Then its ring apparently was closed even to the owners call so that there could be no way to make it to reply the stimulations to have been found by means of the sound within the mobile menu therewith she was familiar while she should hear and open the cell. Although she was a good believer, she couldn’t understand the reason of the Creator’s through which the most single but indispensable might be made lost. She was also too much obstinate when to have been obliged to look for the lost items so to carry on her finding mission if one might call such a deal twice as trivial as it should be then. Naturally soon after it turned out that her mobile telephone was installed in a file drawer almost right above his head, but tired as she was as the office secretaries should have been, she had failed to notice it not saying of the reality reminding her of the event linked to little loss of hers presently examined retelling her she should had not make any sheer request in order to gain The Saviour’s help for a cell phone to be found, then the best will in the world would be not failing to disturb Creator’s siesta designed with idiocy or maliciousness. Yes maliciousness that would permit at times even most pious Muslim terrorists to commit with incest problems induced sexual intercourse, and she remembered at that very moment the permittance declared by The Turkish Caliphate recently: Response to our 'sister-in-law's fatwa' news from Diyanet - Cumhuriyet ...Cumhuriyet Haber Verir - Güncel Son Dakika Haberleri › Political News
5 days ago — The Presidency of Religious Affairs refrained from responding to the issue in a statement on our news about the sister-in-law fatwa from the Diyanet, ... In the book "Fatwas" prepared by the High Council of Religious Affairs, the answer to the question "Will the wife of a person who commits adultery with his sister-in-law be void?" was answered, "Although adultery is a major sin, adultery by one of the spouses does not harm their marriage."
Cumhuriyet Haber Verir - Güncel Son Dakika Haberleri
It would be only the point at issue was whether Muslim terrorist’s religion would let them in incest cases, and she decided that it would. Apart from this in the case of her loosing mobile, however, there was no point in making out that she might be absent minded, so she turned over on her back again to the probability of maliciousness under the abstract definition defining the creator the Muslim terrorists should adore. She saw the officers and officials of the “criminal inspections department” whereat she has been working, clustering nervously together and conferring; well, loosing one’s cell phone of a inspection reporter was no small matter.



TO BE CONTINUED...

Expand
Abba VITE’s

Liberalist Novel

THE WORST

VIZ.

THE BEST



Compiled by Prof. MESOLZHENITSY





ABBA VITE answers to the names SOLZHENITSOF, EBU WELID also, and to Prof. Mesolzhenitsy, Prof. MES (Mustafa Erdoğan Surat), Doctor Solzhenitsof, and Dr. SOLZH , and Newest Work as that at the climax amongst the other books of his published by SMASHWORDS: EXPLORING RELIGION; DATING AND REGIME; JERUSALEM-The Eternal Capital City of the Sons of Israel; GREAT KOBANE; MODERN ODYSSEUS BRITISH FARMERS IN ZIMBABVE SMASHWORDS; PUBLIC COITUS; ABSURD DRAMA THE CORONA MASNAVI; THE BOOK OF SEA SI-SI; EGYPT; THE PHILIP'S NON-BOOK SMASHWORDS





ARCADIA 2020



CONTENTS







TOME 1



Part I



INTRODUCTION



Part II



Episodes thereof love, life and the like



Part III



Science is not nuisance but inutile



Part IV



Humanly interactions carry on with…



Part V



The book begins!



Part VI



Exceptions





















TOME 2



Part 1



Behavioural Aspects of Islamic Terror in Paris Bomb





Part II



Normalization modelling after The War of Civilization

(Won’t we be in need of non-civilized people tampered?)



Part III



Wedding



Part IV



The New Caliph’s Personality Disorders against the NATO Countries



Part V



Under the influence of the First Pioneers of Scientific Morality



Part VI



Expectations







Tome 2

PART VII





ALL THE BEST

(Free Libretto









TOME 1

Part I



All kind of episodes that could be obtained from this masterpiece of Abba VITE should be perceived under the light of a great event as could be scrutinized below:



FREE THINKER SECULAR ARAB THOUGHTS - ARAB TV - YouTube



They should be perceived within the summary:

FREE THINKER SECULAR ARAB THOUGHTS-ARAB TV

From the other side following French Teacher’s (HIS NAME-THAT IS TO BE REMEMBERED FOR AGES- IS SAMUEL PATY) yes, his beheading, Jewish Groups should join rally against extremism! What? Extremism, huh? While secular Arab intellectuals would say that unique extremism could be nothing but Islam. See please, try and see the weakness of civilization before Islam: Thousands gather across France in memory of Samuel PATY who was decapitated weeks after showing caricatures of great Islamic figures to his students. OKAY? THEN LET’S CARRY ON WITH HAVING MORE WRITINGS TO BE READ!

Some people like to speak or write within the atman boundaries of tepid human vernaculars' motto "worst or best", -to some extent-darkened or enlightened concoctions because they think it's humanitarian to say something like "I think it's jet black or it's milky white. as one might see!" (Methinks they should at least try to get the unseen conclusions of those opposing colours' successive phases while they couldn't protect having been in flying colours to the end. So, we should spot all the errors in the above point namely "beyond the bipolarity the multi-polar depressions" eh?) This masterpiece of Abba VITE is to help you get the fitting-if not right-when one decides to get biased-no matter negatively or positively-with one' life approach.

The question, of course, then comes up of just which era of a mixture concocted by means of conception based on GOOD and BAD capturing from behind the curtain of the life one should be emulating. Sensations are in a state of constant change; for instance, the pre-"Jesus Christ Time" of The Europe in AD three hundred years looks completely familiar to modern Europeans from Americans to The French from Russian to Germans, and highly likely our descendants in the year 3000s will think the same of the duality of worse and better as we used to use now. So that usually what people mean by "Romans' surrendering to Christianity" is the victorious love gaining times of all Europe or rather the homeland of all the Caesars that had been ruled by The Roman Empire as it might be appreciated in the case of Vietnam War that would have eased the collapse of the enemy of the American Looser viz. communism-the base of the victorious Vietnam against The USA's capitalism and in that of Afghan War after which Islamic terror declared its state open to be accepted as being in charge of everything-from the point of human rights in its country as it should be in the anti-terrorist soil of The American. around AD one and the half millennium, when the language was transitioning from "Archaic Tongue" to "Standard Language consisting even the queerest vernaculars", so that it used to be used what has been used here.

Essentially if one would go much earlier to differ the best from the worst, one will really confuse people with things like "good" in place of "bad", "hit" in place of "the tepid!" As an aside one briefly ought to narrate that good and bad which are something that cannot be purified over the production processes for, they are very keen-through their deep molecular construction-in feeding their common talent to turn into the last zest of all mouths: tastelessness! One ought also to catch on the ultimate meaning of the international life shared by plants, fungi, every kind of bacterium-hippopotamuses and other non-monkey animals, humans and the like. As for untraditional death forms even in the form of those to be tasted after suicide attacks that would focus on an Islamic phenomenon by definition regarding to Jihad, it cannot be ignored that the lion's share of terrorist acts and the most devastating of them in recent years have been perpetrated in the name of Islam viz. The Good vs. The Modern Civilization, namely The Bad.

Cordially methinks that the abovementioned facts might spark a big fundamental debate both in the Europeans and within the Islamic Terrorists' world regarding the link between their acts and the teachings of humanism, and most optimist and pessimist analysts would be hesitant to identify such acts within the conception saying VOX POPULI VOX DEI who are at the side of GOOD only in their teachings of all the world's great religions and prefer to view the WORST as a way of BEST as a perversion of a religion that should be essentially peace-loving and tolerant. Then let us to have reiterated time and again that the war against terrorism has nothing to do with GOOD while fighting BAD for both the Vietnam and Afghan wars were against the EVIL linked to the both.

By using these levers and appealing to deeply ingrained religious beliefs, the radical leaders succeed in motivating the sheer Islamist terrorist, a certain

ABDELHAMID A. attacking the innocent Paris people-November 2015-, creating for him a social environment thereby provides approbation and a religious environment that provides moral and legal sanction for his action. Inasmuch as a Hebrew child-called Simon-abiding-to the highest probability-in the same district cried, “Even not inhumanly! Only nonsense!” So, the exclamation came-at last-sharply from a little member of the Paris citizens group; and a reply echoed “Hey kid, it’s far too murky to catch on your hertz around. You must have heard the whining wind of the fear on Islamic State-IS!” For misty attacks of antisemitic terror had risen from the fascist tidings of the history that had just flown below the romantic European lawn, pressing close against the dialogue induced points as closing an old house window using some invincible negative power like a soft grey hand, and through which the stir of compunction like that of golden colour autumn leaves’ hiss was faintly audible.

Recently the people of varying credence spectrum should have found the chance of reaching the non-religious aetiologies of this phenomenon regarding to the supposition to have indicated that the worst would-at the very most-turn into the best might have gained the same inclusion over, for instance-political causes of the Israeli-Arab conflict as well alongside considerations on cultural causes of the Islamic terror against Western cultural existence, colonialism or rather its old misdemeanours while no public figure in the West would deny the imperative of fighting the war against terrorism. It should also be within equal causes politically correct to add the codicil that, for the war to be won, all well justified grievances pertaining to the root causes of terrorism might and should be redressed not saying at the other side of the events that might note therein many societies can put claim to similar grievances but have not given birth to religious-based ideologies that justify based on humanism but off base terrorism.

All in all, at last the civilization has been found right even if an ordinary interpretation which places the blame for terrorism on religious and cultural trait runs the risk of being branded as bigotry and Islam-phobia. The political motivation of the leaders of Islamist jihadist-type movements should not be in doubt on behalf of the objectivity while a little glance at the would-be military parades where such movements flourished could show that most would have been in any kind of ostentation to be off their political-and usually quasi military encounter with the West.

This was the case in sub continental Asia and in the northern Africa in the nineteenth century and around pacifist Israel and aggressive Palestine in the twentieth. The moral justification and levers of power for these movements, however, were for the most part not muffled within the political terms, but based on Islamic religious sources of oppression and religiously oppressive besides non-standard principles. The success of radical Islamic organizations in the

recruitment, posting, and ideological maintenance of sleeper activists (the

9-I I terrorists are a prime example) without their defecting or succumbing

to the lure of Western civilization proves the deep ideological nature of the

phenomenon so that the wise people would rather treat Islamic terrorism as mere terror instead of the consequence of political and socioeconomic factors.

TOME 1

Part II





Eventually nothing alone would do justify the significance of the religious culture in which this phenomenon is rooted and nurtured when in order to comprehend the motivation for some acts against humanism and to draw up an effective strategy for a war against terrorism, just as it is necessary to understand the religiously terror induced ideological factors which are deeply embedded in Islamist -would be-thought.

Then, while several called for the saviours, others remembered that the anti-saviours were still about in the lanes, and the evil tramps all the seasons but that of the saviour! Then, while several called for stress remedies, others remembered that IS namely Islamic Terror State’s new Ottomans were still about in the lanes, and the tramps this autumn overbold and insolent. All, perhaps, wished secretly for the cold face of the hell. Only an elderly man in the corner would sit quiet and unmoved instead of the hubbub, contributing nothing to the noise.

Humboldt-the name of an elderly in the story hereby was that-had grown up in an aging home where only love and hope had been reigning since his childhood. As his and other members of his family’s eyes got used to the dust and soil of the street or rather lane far from detesting non-clean things around them as if they were living somewhere at the edge of a grand avenue so that the other members of the family liked it when they had turned the pages of life as if they were living in a mansion like old house. Humboldt could had got no capacity sufficient to tell no fearsome tale. He had evaded, indeed, many fearful openings expressly made for him, though fully aware that to his well-known apathy in hobgoblin stories was partly due his presence on that pavement session. “I never have experiences to be afraid of devils nor abasing their beliefs and crimes in that way,” he said shortly when the Hebrew child asked him horror for the fatal tales of IS; “I have no unusual power to make commentaries about anti humanist, exclusively anti-Semitic crimes.” There was perhaps the merest hint of great sufferings in his tone, but the children standing still before him darkened-in an abstract way of chat-the corner quickly and tactfully covered his retreat. And he wondered slightly for Humboldt knew why he squeezed him to talk about Anti-Semitic blood-shed appetite. He was standing in front of him, wearing a navy-blue cap that had turned into a boyish grey mixed with brown middle school uniform, almost gasping his naïve bust from his nose to the neck... This was certainly not because of the fact that the old man, say elderly loved a young girl forty-one years younger than him, who had just reached marriageable age, and she was the elder sister of student Simon, and furthermore this Simon-the brat couldn’t aware of the situation anyway. But families in the neighbourhood strictly taught their children to share the 'never again' call with everyone about Anti-Semitic murders, and Humboldt knew it! The haunted corner of the human history, say the Anti-Semitism, everybody should be well aware, eh?

Simon's elder sister was also in love, and with the self-confidence of being over 20, she too began to experience extreme love affairs. Her boyfriend-or rather man friend-was just at the Humboldt's age, and unlike that chronically single and platonic lover, he had been married not once but twice before. Now, it should be noted that our heroes-Humboldt, Adela, and Adam-are quite different from each other in terms of income: Adela was the daughter of a middle-class family and intended to work while continuing her education. As a matter of fact, he started a part-time job. Her lover, Monsieur Adam, was a wealthy man on the contrary of our chronic single-moreover-platonic oldie lover who lived from hand to mouth-thanks to deceased dad of his-in a nice home surrounded by its little garden.

The speedily elapsing life time and the garden had been specially assigned for him for not to get married. At times-at the very most opportunely-the garden gate would be opened noisily and in order to let the visitor of the host to come in within a way both might sniff in the broad light of a sunshiny day or at the darkness of a late evening to have been ringing at once for lamps, may-be puffing at his puffer, say Cuban cigar , and generally, by his mere presence, made the group consisting of sardines in the vase, mites hiding in every inter loop areas or rather micro spaces all over the carpets to make plants, parasites and the host to feel rather foolish. Either the light or the darkness should have streamed past everybody from the wet soil of the garden under the willows and ash trees, and then from the corridor. His white hair shone like silver. And with him came the atmosphere of common sense, of celibacy, book linked culture, melodies to be played of The David’s Harp, and the rest. With all mentioned events aging cynically entering at those parts of places. And his young sweetheart would spring up instantly to greet him before sleep, as though his keen approval of this kind of entertainment might need humouring. Although it may have been the light-that witchery of twilights from the fire-in the winter-and the universe beyond the corridor, or it may have been the abrupt entrance of the romance upon the soft sexual intercourse imaginative that traced the outline with such pitiless, sharp lust he has got incessantly at any rate… Any contrast? Because of the gliding lines of the those-like this man who had this inner clairvoyant sight all had been too much flue of superficially changing -if not deeply-was unmistakably closed to be revealed anyhow. It was poignantly simple and sophisticated, not aching somewhere in it in the way of flowing in the days reduced to seconds by means of hiding health and naked pain. For, as Humboldt would happen to pause a moment here or there beside himself in the enlightening or darkening through his idleness somebody of decades’ standing, assistance of youth and arduous benevolence, there stood upon the threshold of that room the presence of a true magic lamp story.

And most marvellously he renewed-instead of changing-his hit or mis or non-hazardously haphazard and yet unplanned studies, his very figure, his whole presentment. Adam the other elder figure of the episode against the gloom, the delicate, unmarked face shone suddenly keen and anguished, and a rich maturity, deeper than any mere age, would give a start to be flushed all his tilting personality over the love affair with the young girl with his secret grandeur even more lines started into being upon the dry skin of the chubby face of his, lines of pleading, pity, and love the daylight did not show, and with them an air of magic tenderness that betrayed, though for a second only, the full soft glory of a beloved situation denied, yet somehow mysteriously enjoyed.

As for the slender body of Adela the fresh darling of the second elderly rose all the deep-bosomed sweetness of motherhood, a potential queen maternity of the world, and a wet nurse, though she might know no dear fulfilment, who yet yearned to sweep into her immense embrace all the elder urchins, say helplessly mobilized virile things that ever lived although embracement, like emotion, can play strangest tricks. The change pressed almost upon the edge of revelation....

When a moment later one should make memory brought, eh? It would be doubtless if any but the silent Islamic Terrorist ABDELHAMID A. who had told no marvellous tale but bombed Paris, lived in the same world-The Europe’s old earth silently alongside little Simon, his elder sister Adela and the young or old neighbours of theirs who knew no moral experience, and put the well civilized people in a position disclaiming the smallest clairvoyant faculty ever, had received Islamic terror orders from IS-Islamic State-over Turkey cocaine caliphate and fortified the vivid, poignant picture of Anti Civilization side in the war of civilizations for an instant ABDELHAMID’s bombs had flashed there, mercilessly clear for all to see who were not blind to subtle spiritual wonder thick with pain. And it was not so much mere impression of The New Ottomans matching not to THE EU as age ill-matched love betwixt Adela and Adam might be, as of her youth that yearned with the oldest craving in the world, and of age that should have slipped beyond the power of rationally divining it so time elapsed, and all was as before us-The European Culture people.













TOME 1

Part III



When Simon-The Child exhibited his sociologic-not psychological-reactions to the Paris Bombing by Islamic Terror the people around him laughed with genial good-nature, not one whit annoyed. “The Islamic State must have been frightening you with stupid horror stories, child,’ they said in their jolly way, and one of them put a protective arm about him. “Have not they been dangerous now? Tell me the truth. Much better,” he added within the voice colour of ide-fixes based on Socio-Somatic acute crise, say its flaring symptoms, “have joined me instead at useless chattering, or for a game of patience, okay?” He looked up shyly into the elderly persons’ face, and he carried his trembling hand upon the forehead of his. “Perhaps they have a little, dear, still been so” said they all, “but now that you’ve come round, and been feeling all right again.” Adding to all “Another point of this matter,” he reiterated again in a graver tone, “and you’d be well informed that at our old health tricks Doctor Abba VITE could manage of putting the symptoms I should suffer from in its scientific term box: SOCIO SOMATIC SYMPTOMS, eh?”

…SOCIO-SOMATIC SYMTOMS as guests made of the voices, visions, pushing collisions and the like directing the freak individuality obliged to work mentally and to sleep in the haunted rooms of the SOCIETY INN then to be right after all, as every capable observer could see, to make everything out of bounds. One ought to feel that the groups limiting one’s world should have glanced fondly, childishly up upon men, women, children and teenagers-THE WORST AND ULTIMATELY MERCILESS part of remarked social habitat teaching ailment-Yes SOCIO-SOMATIC SYMPTOMS would be taught peremptorily whereas THE BEST SIDE of the interactions between one and the evil activity groups should be-right down-making the symptomatic victim to be apt of gaining to be trained in the way of, say, some kind of self-therapy or rather remission based on to have been being socialized over training if not education. Then one might have gone over and poked the talk fires into a blaze in the depths of general health nocturnal incontinence in some nights and to control every functions-bodily-at another times. Someone-no doubt- could strike up a Belly dance on the harp of Caligula, and some couples might dance. All trace of nervousness would be able to be healed, and then should have might have brought in the tray with glasses of juice and richly thick slice of cakes. And

-slowly-the group would have dispersed. Let’s come the question: should candles be lit? If the people should have passed down the passage into the big hail to have been applauding, in lowered voices of to-morrow’s plans of The Islamic Terrorist ABDEL HAMID who had planned to kill the laughter before he bombed Paris where innocent people died away as they went up the stairs to live better, happier as their guests, say Muslims and their wives and children lingering a moment over the ashes of terror flames. They have not, after all then, put all Muslims in custody room, eh? Simon-The Child and the two elderlies-Adam and Humboldt alongside Adela heard another people-a certain couple of Nippon family i.e., Mr. and Mrs Nippon who are not from their neighbourhood but from the working district of Mr Adam mentioned, “Alas, we shall remember in our country those heartrending scenes” “I admit,” Adam replied at once, his manner gracious beyond his age, his voice quite different, “that The Old Europe wanted you to work, to be happy, and to live in peace in our mother land-France here…”

Simon’s elder sister talked “Someone, I mean, who really knows the reason of Islamic Terror, and is not merely curious. But-forgive my saying so-when I saw your deep grief” she sobbed very slightly, “and when you told something about that horrific story really terrorising like the others, I somehow felt…”

“But one could never be able to see anything otherwise” replied Mr. Nippon who put a remarking point regarding to the civilisation wars in his statement hurriedly. “You felt, though,” Mrs. Nippon interrupted swiftly, the

passionate tenderness in her voice but half suppressed. “I can tell the tenderness of the Europeans when fighting Islamic terror from your approach towards the matter”

“Others, then,” Humboldt interrupted abruptly, almost bluntly, “have felt there bewildered much more, rather?”

“Not for a long time. My husband should have tried to mean well in it.” Mrs. Nippon paused a second, then added, “I had those sorrowful considerations for a lot of years when first we arrived France.”

The others extremely anguished look flew back upon her tenderly made speculations like a shadow and was gone, while at the sight of it there rose amongst themselves a sudden deep rush of wonderful benevolence beckoning almost towards worship. They all did not speak, for their voice would tremble.

All in a while HUMBOLDT roared: “I should have to give it up! ISLAMIC TERROR may come nothing as a rational concept for ISLAM for All MUSLIMS had been invited to terrorize JUDEO CHRISTIANITY!

What is it” she finished, “very timidly?” Paused, “Was it to terrorize us?” after a pause she be encouraged as to have been ventured. She bowed her head and, showed MAIDE SURAH wherein HE SAYS not to gain friendship from JUDEO-CRISTAN “They had to make change its meaning from abstract to something non-concrete advising not to see them instead of beheading…” she repeated softly.

“And since then-now-you see nothing?” he asked.



TOME1

Part IV



All speeches of theirs would be singular as they remarked one point of view: ABDELHAMID A.’s terror in Paris. To some extent they were nearly to emphasize the confessional uttering: “Because we will not, not because it’s gone.” They followed each everyone in the group in silence towards the door or something, and if they could pass along the passage therein the traditional consideration, again that curious great pain of emptiness, of loneliness, of

yearning rose upon them before Islam, yes Islam of which pure orders to show the Muslim to kill, to cut human extremities across as in the days of HACCAC The Ruthless in the history of the past hundred and hundred years that never, never can cut across beyond the terror induced frosty pages of this religion to reach the flowers of the natural humanity-based faith that teach to love!

“Hurry up, folk, or a highly likely Islamic terror will come out of real Islam, and will catch you,” cried Mrs. Nippon’ husband, leaning over the steel banisters of fresh air, as the others moved slowly up the way towards the, say, boulevard. There was a moment’s silence when they met with the crowd. The human density could-seemingly-took its thick shadow alongside its lighted candle and wandered up and down in the corridors of mankind’s familiar herd. “Good-nights” or “good morning” were to say again instead moving away, Adela to her loneliness, Simon the child to his Islam based horror haunted bed etcetera, etcetera.



And at the door to be turned, at the far end of the passage say Islam as the acts called terror, silhouetted against the brain light, they watched some where the secularity arguments of some noble Arabs coming from the rich Arabic countries like Kuwait-some fine mature men with their silvered hair, beard and heavy shoulders, and the slim young to the highest probability their wives with that amazing air as of some great bountiful mothers of Arab World for whom the years still passed from feasts to feast would be really debating The Special Problematic about Islam and Civilization:





Tick away please!



FREE THINKER SECULAR ARAB THOUGHTS - ARAB TV - YouTube



They should be perceived within the summary:

FREE THINKER SECULAR ARAB THOUGHTS-ARAB TV



From the other side following French Teacher’s (His name is Samuel PATY) yes, his beheading, Jewish Groups should join rally against extremism! What? Extremism, huh? While secular Arab intellectuals would say that extremis could be nothing but Islam. See please, try and see the weakness of civilization before Islam: Thousands gather across France in memory of Samuel PATY who was decapitated weeks after showing caricatures of great Islamic figures to his students.



Apparently, the secular Arab Thought and aching Jewish Hearth turned the corner in the way towards general reconciliation, and they went in and closed not the debate room its door. And yet sleep took not them, they escaped from it very quickly, and while the religion mist rose up and veiled not the countryside, something else, veiled not even equally for all other anti-sleepers in that matter but two, drew on towards its climax...Some hours later they would awake; the world was stills and it seemed the whole house listened; for with that clear vision which some bring out of religiously bigotry induced, sleepy centuries through, one must have been remembered that there had been no direct acceptation or denial apt to make bloodshed, horror, and systematic terror that the mankind have not suddenly realised so that this big, gaunt dilemma wherein the Islamic Logic would lay was after all the aforesaid bigotry...



For them, however, the entire world, not merely separate hinterlands of religions in it, was ever terror haunted; and they knew no terror to find the space about them charged with thronging life quite other than their own.... They ought to rise and lit the candles of mankind’s wit, crossed over to the reason’s window even if there the mist shone grey, to have been knowing that no barriers of walls or door or ceiling could keep out the suicide bomb agents of Islamic Presence in the Europe that poured so thickly every corner of the terrorist’s heart through non-dignified, say immoral preaching reigning around him. It was like a wall of

being in adversity towards every soul and body to be, with peering satanic eyes, bloody hands stretched out instead of the tiny voices full of peace crying in a chorus very faintly but humanly heroic. Ah, the horror haunted old earth should be saved! Was this old earth not, rather, a temple vestibule, prepared and sanctified by yearning rites few men might ever guess, for all the terrorized children of the peace seeking? How then…



HOW THEN COULD IT BE REALIZED WHILE TURBID ISLAMIC PREACHERS SAY ISLAM SHOULD BE THE WORLD CHAMPION OF TOLERANCE AS IT WOULD BE SO INDEED, AND YET SHOULD BE PROTECTED AGAINST THE INSULTING ATTACKS OF OTHER FAITHS WHEN UNDER THE PERIL COMING THROUGH THE HARD MEDIOCRE MUSLIM YOUNGSTERS’ TERROR ORGANIZATION INDUCED TALKS IN NEARLY ALL CAFES ALL OVER THE OLD EARTH? HOW THEN INDEED, HUH? TO RETALIATE THEIR FIRE INSTANTLY AS THE RUSSIAN, DO? YEP!



TOME1

Part V



Could they all surmise that they would understand the nearing Islamic Terror Danger, nearing somehow from Paris, Moscow and WTC towers towards the Africa, Asia, the Europe and even to the remote corners of our planet? Simon the child, his elder sister Adela had seen but once or twice the debris left from terror bombing like occurred in Paris in all their life! Furthermore, one cannot entrust to Mr. and Mrs Nippon pair only carrying the lamentation they tasted linked to the gathering in memory of Samuel who would not divulge so great a mysterious event that would need must be keep secret! There must be elderlies too.

Of the elderlies…Humboldt and Adam… Had they so easily soothed within similar yearning to which, long years ago, several terror victims’ death had denied fulfilment? Was the quasi-imperialism to be in the true sense, and did all faces bear on them so legibly this great danger model-having been being modelled over that sorrow to be traced? And then, with awful suddenness, mere feelings should have dipped away, and something highly concrete happened like fighting terror. The handle of the door had faintly rattled. He turned. The brass like irrationalism over the Islamic Terror considerations were slowly moving towards any conclusion so that first, at the sight, something of common fear did grip The EU and The USA but Russia, as though Russians heart had not missed a beat, moreover they on the instant heard the voice of their own saviour, now long beyond the seven heavens, calling them to go softly yet with austerity too much speedy as they watched a moment the adamant efforts to undo the terror attacks, yet never afterwards could swear that they did away with it after actual movement, for something in making peaceful future not irrational, tragic as blindness, tears, and something weak!



Appendices (1) THE EPIC HISTORY OF TOPPLED DOWN SOVIET


Suppose that the state had not been destroyed, it was still standing; if the assumptions equate to slump, yes, it was still the Soviet Union or rather empire form state. Retired farmers in line for bread leaning on his spouse noble, cheap source of catering in the past namely the farmers with bread. Unbeknownst to each other, some of his comrades slipped out of the way of the revolution-the most dangerous enemy of our Russians, and a moment with the same reflexes at a distance of many leagues from each other they looked at the heavens: their gaze is deep, their eyes are captive and makeshift.

TOME1

Part VI



Everybody-except deceased Samuel of course-went towards the door of mutual understanding between civilization and its opponents. They took the handle of this eternal matter very gently, and very softly then they opened it in order to make it possible, ye know, writing about daily life beyond was everything would tend to be in darkness. They saw again the empty passages of thought, say its steel edge of the banisters where the great hall yawned below, and, dimly, the outline of the cordillera’s silhouettes. And then they dropped upon their knees and opened wide their arms to something that came in upon uncertain, viewless feet. All the winds following sultry feeding flowers middays and dews of dawn in the little hours of the day, filling them to the brim opening neatly their eyes. There clung to them all the small beginnings of survival that couldn’t stand alone lacking the little helpless hands and arms that have no confidence, and when the wealth of tears and love devoted to humanity that flooded their hearts seemed to break upon the frontiers of some mysterious yet impossible fulfilment thereupon, they rose and went with curious small steps towards the window of reason to taste the rational, misty air of that other enlightened existence that waited so patiently there above the entire world. Adam, Humboldt, Adela, little Simon, Mrs. and Mr. Nippon drew the sash up. The soul of Samuel felt soft and tender as though there were somewhere love in it too-The Saviour of suns and planets, of dews and rains and breezing and its melodies, all that the cosmos contains unborn and tiny, and when at length they turned again the door was opened. The space was not empty of any life-adding to it-that which lay so wonderfully blessed within them. And this, they felt, had marvellously increased and multiplied. Sleeping in the daytime then came not back to them, and in the morning of peace they left the hollow space before the others were astir, pleading some overlooked engagement. For they had met with the Samuel’s soul indeed, but yet no concrete output that they could talk about with others round an open, fresh, and yet deserted air any more. They dispersed, and backed to their sweet homes…



Appendices (2)

THE EPIC HISTORY OF TOPPLED DOWN SOVIET

The westly wind was collecting rain of liberalism, they shuddered with zest together... Strange to say, hundreds of pairs of eyes have read this epic, far away staring intently at the sad, patched clouds because history was writing a prayer for change in the western sky. As you know, history was digging the epic tomb of destiny. The statelet, which was frozen in the shadow of Siberia’s being destroyed apparently.

TOME 2

Part I





It was late but neither morning nor evening when Humboldt arrived the parish he was born and lived. His house in its micro garden lay deep in serenity, and there was everything to be seen of Father’s Home, for clarity in the air and pure lightness-not light- surrounded it, and not the brightest lucidity of most visible contours showed where the great childhood nest of his would be. Humboldt, stood on the stonelike threshold made of cement leading from the lane to the entrance corridor for a long time, looking up at what seemed to be remembered much more from the years several dead members of his big family were still alive, and after a refreshing break he went in his study where to work and to sleep. People were still awake at the dusty lanes around his garden micro garden. Although he was the owner of the house had no room available to make sex easily, freely, whereas greatly surprised and confused by the arrival of a lady guest so late at night, and apparently, she was willing not to let Humboldt. sleep on his veteran mattress in the bedroom say nothing intending to pull Humboldt towards-saloon like guest room-upstairs. He agreed to that. Several minutes of the inward time of his time mysterious lady was still overfeeding her intention to make Humboldt to lie on the wooden floor together with her, over the antic carpet, but he didn’t feel like asking her name, instead he fetched the wool mattress down from the attic himself, and lay down her near his lying body. She was warm-not as a stove, of course, from which the internal winds carrying more or less calory to make the people to believe in the process to have heated the body as to feel warm physically is to be cogent also about the existence of some heating machine-and silent. Her sparkling eyes gave the probable questions in the eyes of Humboldt a cursory inspection, and then she fell in the love making induced mood. But soon afterwards he was woken from his turbid wonder in the bed of an unexpected love. He remembered her from the vicinity he would share with the others: She should be one of the Romanian girls, colourful friends of Adela, a young madeleine in town clothes, with a face like an actress’ with eye liner induced make up applied to eyes, strongly marked eyebrows was dancing under his sexually described shuttle actions preserving the synchronisation with her elderly sexual partner. The mimics were still therein, say on her chickens too, and some of them had turned their joyful vibrations around her murmuring mouth so that he could see her tongue and hear its whisper. Augmenting his force in the unexpected intercourse Monsieur Humboldt apologized very civilly for pressing her breast to that of his. ‘Press? What press for God’s sake? My soul has been woken under you that would be apt to be introduced as the rescuer salvaging the personality of one female as I’ve been from the warden of taste cancer,’ she hissed and added: ‘This house belongs to you and yet you shouldn’t know that the house, its owner should be you only, so anyone who could stay or spend the night here as it ought to be, so to speak, staying or spending the hours at this home. And no one’s allowed to do that without a permit from you yourself. However, you need not mustn’t have any such permit, or at least you haven’t been, henceforth to this extent obliged to show one.’















Appendices (3)







THE EPIC HISTORY OF TOPPLED DOWN SOVIET







The ghoulish truths that every epic tries to hide one by one so lined up in items, waiting to be read in the sky, the following warning covers humanity: the warning is in the bread in the queue! What you call epic, it has a good and bad spirit, originally, in its own way. I think the farmers in the bread queue were exempt from all kinds of epics, and yet big talk was inclined to make the mean cheap and the cheap vulgar, Entered the full queue; Red blunder turned into a company! Essentially, the commune binds the fate of the individual in the forecasting plan: Even if we didn't choose, the fates of our near and far environment are good. Our well-read destiny, though well-read and badly-interpreted moreover the question "Is the future bright" is on this table with camouflage delusions...















TOME 2

Part II

Little Simon. After an extremely tasteful sleep woke and sat up, scratched his head as if he had to smooth down his hair, and was then looking up at his mother. ‘What with all will I to have my breakfast like a homework as a loafer, then?’ he asked. ‘Is there poached egg more than one amongst the other or rather several ingredients enriching the table?’ ‘There most certainly should be,’ said his mom slowly, as some of those weird fearful probabilities linked to the bullying boys’ behavioural danger should have to be present in her thought instead of his breakfast table caprices to have made the woman to shake her head at Simon’s ignorance over thanksgiving. Whereas there could be no need of fearful consideration for the children while teacher of righteousness, say God might give permit to spend their playful days in fear, huh? Simon’s mom asked him, as if to convince himself that he had not got anything to be afraid instead of trusting to the biggest teacher loving and protecting the little boys, by every chance, if he took a peaceful sleep and dreamed colourful things. ‘Yes, because I need not any permit to dream colourful things,’ was his reply, and there was downright derision at mom’s expense in the woman’s voice as, with arm outstretched, he asked about the eggs and the like, and reiterated: ‘Or haven’t I to do such things?’ and carry on with a sour remark ‘Well, I’ll have to go and get a permit, then,’ said, yawning, and throwing off his blanket as if to rise to his feet. ‘Oh, my little child? Who from?’ asked the woman. ‘Why, from you,’ said Simon, ‘I suppose there’s nothing else for it.’ ‘What, get by with the obstacle and gain a permit from the mom of yours herself in the morning?’ cried the child, retreating a step. ‘Is that impossible?’ asked little Simon, unruffled. ‘If so, why did you not allow me sleep and have a colourful dream?’ At this the woman was positively beside her son. ‘The manners of an elderly!’ he cried. Little Simon who had known ever since the very first minutes of his beginning kindergarten months to spend therein that he was one of the oldest people in the world who as he had given the start to live hundred and hundred years after having been used to use antiaging pills just before the World War II, cried ‘I demand respect for my real age-to have come to the amount, say at least two hundred years! You are not keen enough to let me sleep and carry on with my dream-of, no matter over daylight or night-if not woke me up to tell me that I ought to leave the quilt-my one and only luxury-immediately.’ ‘That’s enough of this farce,’ hissed the mom in a noticeably voice of serenity. Thereupon he lay down and pulled the blanket over him. Mom growled, ‘Little or young or even old man, you’re going rather too far, and I’ll have something to say about your conduct from the past to the future over today. The people from your mom and dad plus your entire akin folk including Adela your elder sister may have been placed upon your gimmick giving to you the chance of being the witness to have been being scrutinizing their lives, if you ought to need anyhow. As for the rest of it, let me tell you that eventually you are the observer observing the human interactions or rather behavioural aspects of theirs, and no doubt the creator sent you. And yet all events could turn into another things in the memory from the point of your present observation as my assistance introduced to you will have been seemed hindrance in the future that should be coming tomorrow by means of there with your surveying instruments destined to be unfinished as in yesterday. I don’t want you to deprive you of a good imagination here through the ani-aging tales, but unfortunately you used to lose your way several times, and that’s why I would be warn you of the danger waiting daydreamers like you. From the other side I myself was well aware that nothing-in the past-has been really as they should seem and would be so in the future!’ And yet Simon did be-through antiaging protective treatment-two hundreds plus years old the even before and after she delivered her teaching, that it was too late to present himself at the breakfast table as a little child. That’s why he contented himself with not going on to sleep the broad day light there, and they-mom and he himself-have been to put it mildly teasing enough to disturb the household at the breakfast table. And that’s all the they would be making at that time. ‘Good morning, gentleman!’ smiled his mother

And Simon turned to the routine way of life he must have adopted already, and pondered on the pavement leading to the school. ‘Youth?’ he asked and someone listened to him hesitantly behind his body in school uniform and nearly to turn his back walking away, and then everyone fell silent in the street for everyone would happen to understand the meaning of Simon-the two hundred years old child-statement in the grammatical form of question that meant good while remarking that everyone’s aunt should live a kind of youth to reach several kind of feature to be described as to be briefed in a simple word, say haggard who couldn’t hear what one would say! According to the law of hyper old age one should know that there could be no way apt to give the chance of wandering in a certain time instead of using ordinary remembrance to remember from the general past of ours say the general hallucination destined to be unreal thoroughly. For example should the whole life of our aunts by side of mom trace back the various positions that full existing things in it have passed through in a whole life within one’s individual history, all pages of its ought to be changed, but in non-reverse order to that in which all positions actually occurred, then the universe, in this non-imaginary case, would still obey the same changing phases’ procedure all over the future including one’s flowing present time as an interval betwixt the past and the future. Testing the non-reversibility, one may remember the younger ages of that very aunt what we might call all old past days as occurred in a real earth on the contrary another real earth may, in which the existence belonging to everything at various moments of time wouldn’t be the same notion as in her two different real earths existing in one body as not same as each other. But Simon the little child soon pulled himself together and told himself, in a tone just muted enough to sound as if he were showing consideration for the mom’s counter consideration, but loud enough for him to hear what was said: ‘I’ll ask teacher about aging.’

‘Oh, so The Europe there used to be peace and constructive civilisation periods in this continent, and there wasn’t terror activity as they fed by hashish lord Hassan Sabah in Iran, was there? Both the peaceful and productive eras the main actors were very well equipped here instead of the industrial revolution wrecked people who had to migrate from the village or towns to the cosmopolitan bit cities to suffer especially from child hiring in mines.’ remarked the teacher and added as a detail that surprised me, but on the whole we had not to have experience that the greatest thing terrorizing the people, say migration even emigration. All sorts of terror should be accepted as a factor of splitting the time and personalities.’





CHORUS

GARDENS WITHOUT EXTENSION

Yalta Conference is over, in cities that have not gone to war anyway, look
In Istanbul, New York, Tehran, Erzurum and Konya; like a hook
Despite the target lacking people, garden identity grew fat everywhere, say therein
The green is devoid of trees; the high-walled one was chosen ...
We, off dreaded forgot about the war commotion; attention is concentrated on the wall thereon
The sparrow tangles, our cat sleeps; hospitality made of stone;
You, the space that is rich; Our leafless garden: peel off your memories
What is there to be afraid of, open up; Swallow observation, swallow black-hole of ours!



TOME 2

Part III







After the end of his daily work Adela-The Simon’s elder sister-explored in a low degree panic that his cell phone was not in its proper place she used to install monitored as in mute mode. Then its ring apparently was closed even to the owners call so that there could be no way to make it to reply the stimulations to have been found by means of the sound within the mobile menu therewith she was familiar while she should hear and open the cell. Although she was a good believer, she couldn’t understand the reason of the Creator’s through which the most single but indispensable might be made lost. She was also too much obstinate when to have been obliged to look for the lost items so to carry on her finding mission if one might call such a deal twice as trivial as it should be then. Naturally soon after it turned out that her mobile telephone was installed in a file drawer almost right above his head, but tired as she was as the office secretaries should have been, she had failed to notice it not saying of the reality reminding her of the event linked to little loss of hers presently examined retelling her she should had not make any sheer request in order to gain The Saviour’s help for a cell phone to be found, then the best will in the world would be not failing to disturb Creator’s siesta designed with idiocy or maliciousness. Yes, maliciousness that would permit at times even most pious Muslim terrorists to commit with incest problems induced sexual intercourse, and she remembered at that very moment the permittance declared by The Turkish Caliphate recently: Response to our 'sister-in-law's fatwa' news from Diyanet - Cumhuriyet ...Cumhuriyet Haber Verir - Güncel Son Dakika Haberleri › Political News5 days ago — The Presidency of Religious Affairs refrained from responding to the issue in a statement on our news about the sister-in-law fatwa from the Diyanet, ... In the book "Fatwas" prepared by the High Council of Religious Affairs, the answer to the question "Will the wife of a person who commits adultery with his sister-in-law be void?" was answered, "Although adultery is a major sin, adultery by one of the spouses does not harm their marriage."

Cumhuriyet Haber Verir - Güncel Son Dakika Haberleri
It would be only the point at issue was whether Muslim terrorist’s religion would let them in incest cases, and she decided that it would. Apart from this in the case of her loosing mobile, however, there was no point in making out that she might be absent minded, so she turned over on her back again to the probability of maliciousness under the abstract definition defining the creator the Muslim terrorists should adore. She saw the officers and officials of the “criminal inspections department” whereat she has been working, clustering nervously together and conferring; well, losing one’s cell phone of an inspection reporter was no small matter. All the while the door was opened and there, filling the whole doorway, stood the monumental figure of the civil servant in charge of office security. The director approached on tiptoe to let her know what was going on. And now her rescued cell telephone began wringing so she replied the call. The voice from the other end was sleepy, but when the dialogue had been started by her dad-inasmuch as at the other side her father was talking- the telephoning should go on till the dad would close his mobile so several such official as she was stood steadily as a certain general director, was on the line. Adela the young lady noticed that the one-amongst the others-the nearest to her, who identified himself as The Chief Reporter, told her how he could find her mobile, a man of very smart appearance in his forties… Adela felt the changing dimension around for a moment and thought: ‘It was as if we were living in the way of life of the people who were to live before the electronic ages when my phone disappeared. I mean, how long was the time at that time, and it gave us back our old empty night with long hours and slow minutes to do everything for example chances to go the cinema, to visit friends at their cozy houses… '

Then she went back home and after dining to sleeping peacefully on a wool mattress placed on the bed, with her favourite feather sack as a pillow and her beloved mobile within reach. ‘She had naturally’ felt suspicious, said Simon-the little child, and as their mom had never neglected to do her duty it had been up to them to live as the routine. The child carried on with murmuring, ‘the friends from her office therein she would work had acted very churlishly on being eyewitnesses, to have questioned her, and not helped her properly in due form with expulsion from the present time, although, as it finally turned out, perhaps with some reason, for one of them claimed to be a chief reporter and pretended to mean good for his assistants the officers-making search to find the cell phone had sent for him. Of course, it was at least Adela’s formal duty to check this claim, so she, Adela, would like office friends to enquire-if it had been needed-in higher rank officer, find out whether any such duty of looking for her mobile was really approved, and reach back with the output at once.’ Then all should be quiet. Mom went to make her addiction-as a good spectacular over serials-yes, her addiction to be satisfied and there at the special spectaculars’ ground thereon the ingredients-middle sized table and the stool waited for committing with her taking the place assigned already or rather routinely, the dad staying where his was, not even turning round, not appearing at all curious enough to be written by the author who had taken the risk to be seen more curious than before mentioned objects, but looking straight ahead of him as if drilling the walls with his curiosity based on reality rather than that of the reality based on neither something barely real nor curious. The way Simon’s elder sister told her tale, with a mingling-after purified and put solely on chastity and disdaining from malice and with caution, gave bot the little child and the dad an idea of what might be called the produced through official training of which even such insignificant figures in every offices as the people like chief reporter had been used to command where were not to be lack of industry there either while the headquarters would be working even at night so that if Adela had not find her lost mobile that event couldn’t be assumed happened out of the working hours. The chief reporter, however, has seemed to be a very hyper inquisitive and impatient one, for he tried immediately to slam the cell down in anger since he would hiss like a giant snake ‘I said as much!’ upon the happy end of the search. ‘There’re shouldn’t be no record of any event regarding that loss; this ought to be admitted as a common misdemeanour caused not by any vagabond or probably worse.’ For a moment Simon-The Child thought all of them-Adela, her office friends, the local workers from the vicinity, the chief reporter and others were nearly going to fall on her, and to avoid at least the first onslaught she crawled into every corner to get back her mobile. By the time Simon reached school, his older sister had arrived at her workplace. In a while she dived into the files and could not understand how the time passed, and even she forgot the little adventure she found her cell phone after she lost her cell phone. The next day, old Monsieur Adam and the chief Rapporteur-coincidentally-just a few hours apart, proposed to the little boy's elder sister. First reminding the age difference, Adela asked her elderly darling, "If a gap arises between our wishes, pleasures and tolerance limits in the future, won't we be in for a disaster?" The old groom-to-be answered the question, "What do you call a disaster?" Adela's response was: 'Losing the way that makes us who we are as individuals is catastrophic. For instance, “The habit of sleeping, looking to the future with confidence, eating the favorite food with appetite of ours, reading a book on vacation, listening to Antonín Dvořák with an endless enthusiasm as if we will never die, etcetera are identical with our existence. How could be our loss called, if not a disaster?’ Monsieur Adam said, 'The most important thing you said, as that should be, is true. And yet it was really easy for young girls to live their youth there, while there was zero chance of the guarantee therein not being beheaded like a sheep for dedicating to the gods-which was always possible in Aztec civilization-cheerfully!' This statement made a lot of sense, but Adela accepted the offer of the Chief Rapporteur, not the old monsieur. He bride groom perhaps might not even forty years old. Then the preparations for marriage began immediately…











TOME 2

Part IV



Humboldt had hosted her-after making an unexpected and too much long love-in his red car, and carried the young lady-one of the very intimate friends of Adela-then to her family’s block therein they have got a lovely apartment. After having come back his home he would go to bed directly to have swathed his athletic body tightly by quilt whereout he slowly put his head to ring her mobile up to reach at least her soft and swift voice again and, his own attempt seemed to him, revoking a particular force around even capable to push her out of bed too to reply his unexpected call. Although it was unlikely that this call too could be about offering marriage to her, they all began a non-stop chat, and neither side occupied at the different sides of talking medium went back to bed till the first lights of the new day. They listened not to an explanation from neither side of some length but endless verbal attempts to give way to some explanations anyhow. and then they uttered together the same thing quietly, ‘A mistake, then? Is this affaire du coeur awkward for us? Who did Humboldt say he himself to telephone the girl and she herself answer that call? Dangerous or rather very strange. But how were they to explain it to each other then?’ Both must have pricked up their ears. So they tried to catch on the sentence bundles announced by the other linked to their well shared love bed experience through the wonder of girl and the sexual wander of the elderly that the girl has described it as feeling a male in her highly most inner part of genital area and the elderly as area surveying. In one way this was unfortunate, since it showed that both knew all they needed to know about it at the bed, and yet none of them could weigh up the balance of power within love making, and were cheerfully accepting its challenge. In another way, however, it was fortunate, for they confirmed their opinions that they could not be being underestimated by each other, and would have more freedom than they had dared to hope from the output of unexpected sexual intercourse. And if they thought they could keep themselves in a constant state of happiness by recognizing each other’s qualifications as a wondering female and as surveyor in genital area over that intellectually supercilious way, as it certainly was, then they were open to being wrong both inasmuch as they both felt a slight frisson, yes, but that was all.

They gave start to video chat and elderly waved away the young partner, who was timidly approaching to the camera as if she declined to move into the bed under the blanket in her bed room, as he was then urged to do, merely gaining not a nightcap from none and after using of the washbasin…In the morning his soap and a towel were waiting in serenity to be used instead there is no lady, and he didn’t even have to ask for having got one since he and the females around him were hurrying out with their faces averted to keep off from bed rooms, perhaps to escape from identifying themselves after love making. The light was put out, and he was left alone at last. After breakfast, which like Humboldt’s entire board and lodging, so the he told himself, a short visit was to be paid to see her in flesh there with all he thought he would go straight into the café Adela’s friends used to spend time every day.



TO BE CONTINUED...

[Basset Hound]

(which I am not allowed no mention here) my cousin Gary will send you a rejection notice that begins "Abba Vite can't write."

[Stephen Maturin]

Originally Posted by SOLZHENITSOF

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by Basset Hound

(which I am not allowed no mention here) my cousin Gary will send you a rejection notice that begins "Abba Vite can't write."

I-ABBA IS SAYING YOU CAN'T READ!
AND YET
TRY AND READ THE COVER BACK-THE FIRST PAGE HERE- OF THE THREAD:

Default ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's novel
SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!


ABBA VITE's Liberalist Novel

THE WORST

VIZ.

THE BEST

By Prof. MES SOLZHENITSOF

ABBA VITE answers to the names SOLZHENITSOF, EBU WELID also, and to Prof. Mesolzhenitsy, Prof. MES (Mustafa Erdoğan Surat), Doctor Solzhenitsof, and Dr. SOLZH , and Newest Work as that at the climax amongst the other books of his published by SMASHWORDS: EXPLORING RELIGION; DATING AND REGIME; JERUSALEM-The Eternal Capital City of the Sons of Israel; GREAT KOBANE; MODERN ODYSSEUS BRITISH FARMERS IN ZIMBABVE SMASHWORDS; PUBLIC COITUS; ABSURD DRAMA THE CORONA MASNAVI; THE BOOK OF SEA SI-SI; EGYPT; THE PHILIP'S NON-BOOK SMASHWORDS

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by Stephen Maturin

SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!


ABBA VITE's Liberalist Novel

Continuing from the previous chapter….

*************************************

As for the girl to whom, remembering his behaviour the night before, he could say only the bare minimum, kept hovering around her with a silent plea in his eyes… She took not pity on the elderly lover but on her-herself and she speculated that she should asked him to sit down after the sexual intercourse, and keep him company for a while. ‘I haven’t met the a sexually strong taurus like you yet,’ while saying the elderly, ‘but they say the people might pay well for your very good work in the bed. Isn’t that so? If you’re travelling as far from your empty mattress and quilt as I am, you want to bring something worthwhile, say a happiness as homemade.’ More over adding to this ‘No need to worry about that, dear. There’ve never been any complaints of poor pay through successful intercourses on the old earth.’ Highly likely he would reply ‘Well, I’m not the timid sort myself, and I can speak my mind even to the payer if they could be any in the beds of love out of the brothels wherein the elderlies would work, but of course it’s far better to be on friendly terms with such women having been to pay the lover on the spot.’ The girl would rather be perched opposite the man on the edge of the windowsill, not daring to sit anywhere more comfortably and she kept looking at elderly with his large, brown or rather in colour of petroleum, anxious free but anxiety reflecting eyes. To begin with a new love making she had moved close to him, but for the time being she might seem to want to run away. Was she afraid of being interrogated about the bed skill of hers?
Essentially after all might he fear that, although he used to be calling himself as ‘elderly’, she was not to be relied on him over all sexual intercourses? He thought he had better distract his mind about the love making skills of his for he would be he and she was not able to do so not because of the inferiority complex but susceptibility very, very peculiar to women generally. All of a sudden, he rescued his intelligence from deep thoughts. He all the more in the street…Looking at his watch, he said himself: ‘Well, my erectile hormones-if not hormones what else could they be indeed-will soon be being augmented, huh?’ Say not anything more about physiological factors the different sexes induced everything based on interaction-a little innuendo, a trifling word could essentially direct sex life towards every direction. “Will you be able to accommodate them in the bed?’ asked he himself. ‘Of course, sir,’ replied he his own question. ‘But won’t they be escorting you up at the phase of erection first and ejaculation, secondly?’ Was he so easily and cheerfully giving up the prospect of love, and in particular all the love maker, whom he seemed anxious to send off to love bed? Drown in anxiety the elderly was as an aside happy because of the medium created by liberal thoughts inspiring the individual to define the relations between the different genders and genders couldn’t be confined by the borders dictated by the gender defining boundaries heresy coming after some coercing traditions’ limit ‘That’s not decided yet,’ said the elderly about the gender definitions by several generations. ‘First we must find out what kind of work in other gender relations they want us to do. For instance, if I’m to work down in the family bed biologically, then it would be more sensible for me to stay down there for ever. And in addition, I’m afraid that living up in the biological base, say marriage wouldn’t agree with me. I always prefer to be a free agent in my love affairs within the meaning of abstract considerations.’ He took his breath for a moment and went on with his free speculations ‘I ought not know what the marriage is like, over my liberal way of life that would in harmony with me if I should like to know everything about everything!’

TO BE CONTINUED…

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by SOLZHENITSOF

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ABBA VITE's Liberalist Novel

Continuing from the previous chapter….

*************************************

As for the girl to whom, remembering his behaviour the night before, he could say only the bare minimum, kept hovering around her with a silent plea in his eyes… She took not pity on the elderly lover but on her-herself and she speculated that she should asked him to sit down after the sexual intercourse, and keep him company for a while. ‘I haven’t met the a sexually strong taurus like you yet,’ while saying the elderly, ‘but they say the people might pay well for your very good work in the bed. Isn’t that so? If you’re travelling as far from your empty mattress and quilt as I am, you want to bring something worthwhile, say a happiness as homemade.’ More over adding to this ‘No need to worry about that, dear. There’ve never been any complaints of poor pay through successful intercourses on the old earth.’ Highly likely he would reply ‘Well, I’m not the timid sort myself, and I can speak my mind even to the payer if they could be any in the beds of love out of the brothels wherein the elderlies would work, but of course it’s far better to be on friendly terms with such women having been to pay the lover on the spot.’ The girl would rather be perched opposite the man on the edge of the windowsill, not daring to sit anywhere more comfortably and she kept looking at elderly with his large, brown or rather in colour of petroleum, anxious free but anxiety reflecting eyes. To begin with a new love making she had moved close to him, but for the time being she might seem to want to run away. Was she afraid of being interrogated about the bed skill of hers?
Essentially after all might he fear that, although he used to be calling himself as ‘elderly’, she was not to be relied on him over all sexual intercourses? He thought he had better distract his mind about the love making skills of his for he would be he and she was not able to do so not because of the inferiority complex but susceptibility very, very peculiar to women generally. All of a sudden, he rescued his intelligence from deep thoughts. He all the more in the street…Looking at his watch, he said himself: ‘Well, my erectile hormones-if not hormones what else could they be indeed-will soon be being augmented, huh?’ Say not anything more about physiological factors the different sexes induced everything based on interaction-a little innuendo, a trifling word could essentially direct sex life towards every direction. “Will you be able to accommodate them in the bed?’ asked he himself. ‘Of course, sir,’ replied he his own question. ‘But won’t they be escorting you up at the phase of erection first and ejaculation, secondly?’ Was he so easily and cheerfully giving up the prospect of love, and in particular all the love maker, whom he seemed anxious to send off to love bed? Drown in anxiety the elderly was as an aside happy because of the medium created by liberal thoughts inspiring the individual to define the relations between the different genders and genders couldn’t be confined by the borders dictated by the gender defining boundaries heresy coming after some coercing traditions’ limit ‘That’s not decided yet,’ said the elderly about the gender definitions by several generations. ‘First we must find out what kind of work in other gender relations they want us to do. For instance, if I’m to work down in the family bed biologically, then it would be more sensible for me to stay down there for ever. And in addition, I’m afraid that living up in the biological base, say marriage wouldn’t agree with me. I always prefer to be a free agent in my love affairs within the meaning of abstract considerations.’ He took his breath for a moment and went on with his free speculations ‘I ought not know what the marriage is like, over my liberal way of life that would in harmony with me if I should like to know everything about everything!’

TO BE CONTINUED…

continuing from the previous chapter...

‘Strange’ pondered Humboldt-the elderly ‘One ought not to judge too early through the speculations regarding any unexpected sexual intercourse or an exaggerated mass prayer therein one would have taken part too much fervently. At the moment all one should know about them is that up here I know how to pick a good happiness inspector for lacking happiness might easily delete the ecstasy one need must have before a four times four love making or a deep prayer. And perhaps there could be other advantages there as well.’ Before a while he sat on a bank-who knows who has put it there near to the main gate of market. And he rose to his feet, to allow the pedestrians, who were obviously and uneasily biting their lip for the sake of a chance to be rid of his volume hindering a bit. According to Humboldt it wasn’t easy to win this mop’s trust. As he was walking away, he noticed some graffito bundles flowing from the top of the adjacent blocs’ wall within dark shadows on them. He had seen things similar to those objects even from where he lay last night to make love, but away from that distance he hadn’t been able to make out the details… ‘The outer world’ he thought that ‘could not be the real picture we had been removing from the frame, would have been leaving only a hollow.’ And whistled, ‘But there should be indeed some pictures-real or unreal-to help us in remembering them muffled by a certain vision, as I now saw!’ Humboldt might be appreciated as a middle aged and robust male from the point of his head and shoulders peculiar to a man of about fifty, and yet his head would be bent so lowering towards the right-or rather highly towards that right direction-that over his adjacent shoulder one could hardly see his both ears, and the reason why he held it like that seemed to be the weighting heavy senses of his high, heavy spontaneous anguish and large hooked nose. The man’s well shaven beard, which had the capacity of having been squashed in at some part of his jowl by the angle of his head, especially when he has stood up still.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by Stephen Maturin

ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's Liberal Novel
(Continuing from the previous chapters...)

His hands-no matter right or left one-were ready to spread and to have been running through his hair, but he could not redress his head any more instead he worried-half giggling half whispering-about his lover ‘Who was that maiden?’ he asked for many times and too much lowered regarding to his routine voice. ‘The friend of Adela, huh?’ He was standing then in front of another shopwindow belonging nowhere, and did not even look at the signboard of the shop. ‘Oh no,’ sighed he, ‘that’s the first thing I need must look at.’ After scrutinizing it he happened to mumble, ‘Well, they have seemingly used a fine font to have been printed at the board, to be sure, what a pity my attentiveness has turned out so badly in the street…Then what about the bed of love? Oh no, I ought to be awakened after sleeping-day in and night out-for so many decades of my life.’ observed the twitches over his hand muscles, drawing to the head waiting to be scratched to have been slightly downed to the nearest ear. ‘I-Humboldt the elderly was putting on airs in the love bed; my father is only as two third-at the most-as younger than that of my age then in the wedding hall to have been the bridegroom for he was one of the most junior of the husbandry candidates in those days.’ he guffawed sneakily. At this moment al the parents of his seemed like a child to Humboldt. ‘What a rascal!’ should have they said, laughing if they had seen him while making love with a young girl two times younger than him. However, his senses did not join in his laughter based on reason, but said, ‘Obviously my father was powerful too adding to his youth that would dare to get married as an adolescent.’ And he opposed to himself ‘Oh, come along!’ moreover rebelling ‘I think everyone is powerful. Including me, I wonder?’ ‘No,’ he rebuked himself, diffidently but gravely, ‘I don’t think I’m powerful. And yet a very good observer, then,’ he would give his own consent say nothing more his speculation ‘The fact is, and just between my reason and my sense, I really am not powerful. And as a result, I probably feel no less respect for the powerful than I should do, but I am not as honest as me before the sexual intercourse and won’t always admit it.’ And to cheer his ego and show his own good-will to his hopeful spirit, he tapped lightly on the left cheek because of his postural addiction to have kept his head leaning slightly towards right. At this Humboldt did also smile a little. Ah! Those old good days he was only a boy really, with a soft and almost beardless face. How had he come to marry as a stout elderly a girl too much young who could not be imagined through a hatch bustling about the kitchen next door, hands on her hips, elbows jutting, huh? But Humboldt did not want to probe the man any further now, or wipe the smile he had finally won from him off his face; he just signed to her face image reflected from the shopwindows supervising the pavement giving the chance to have stepped out into the street caressed by a familiar breeze. Now he could see the white clouds swept by the same wind above, distinctly outlined in the clear air, and standing out even more distinctly because of the thin beams of the sun!

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's novel
continuing fro the previous chapters....

He kept to overthink everything as an antic Greek philosopher, and yet he would stop all thoughts at any moment as someone reminded of the chores overing hours and hours lying everywhere within the modern people’s habitat and changing the shape of routine life activities humanly. In fact, much less humanly behaviours in the routine daytime seemed to have directed thoughts of hot lovers than those of less sensitive folk here and there in the parishes humans ought to abide. So logically in the place where Humboldt found it as difficult to make his way along some sophisticated speculations as it had been reasonable just after that unexpected love making.

Humboldt all of a sudden-as a matter of fact apropos in making platitude remarks about the time currently to be being lived in telling a tale-happened to ponder: ‘if “Turkey says EU headscarf ruling ‘grants legitimacy to racism*” with what kind of motto Turkey’s Caliph ERDOGAN would rather should make his instant sexual intercourse freely labelled from the point of his Anti-Americanism, huh?’
*Allowing businesses to ban item of clothing at work will exclude Muslim women and encourage Islamophobia, critics say etcetera, etcetera…
Here the thoughtful rumination of his came up to the brain windows i.e., his half-closed eyes and weighed down on the low tops of his mouth, while the visual hallucination on the sensational mountain looking down everything rose into the air of speech, free and light, or at least that was how the Turkey’s Caliphate induced immoral but well-shaped rules looked from The Liberal World. Altogether the liberal life, as seen in the distance, say occupied Constantinople, lived up to the elderly’s expectations. It was neither an old amorously way of life from the days of Casanova, nor a showy new spirit, but an extensive complex of relationships, a few of them with lacking soul, but many of them higher in morality and disipline together. If you hadn’t known the incest violations in the classical state of DSH-doing, sharing and hiding- and the victim to have been ignored by Caliphate type admins you might have taken it for a small matter. Humboldt saw not that DSH as only a single defect but could not make out whether it was a moral corrosion belonged to Turkey’s Islamic institutions when he was informed that flocks of people were circling around them not only in the occupied Constantinople. Inasmuch as on the contrary to underestimations Humboldt understood that highly likely those social tumours-in New York, Berlin, Paris-backed by the Caliph could be exceeding those-in numbers-in Turkey.

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Continuing from the previous chapters...

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Liberalist Novel
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From then going on his sensitivity fixed on “L’ Affair de Coeur”, so that From then going on his sensitivity fixed on “L’ Affair de Coeur”, so that he went on, paying no attention to anything else but the Turkish Islam devoid of love. But as he came closer abstractly to the European concept, say humanism he thought the Ottoman Empire to have been disappointing; after all, for the super powers of the new world were to be administered only by a poor kind of collection of cottages type leaders-their personalities ruined by human rights induced fragility assembled into a little civilization not powerful enough to create suicide bombers, and distinguished within the mankind’s family only by the fact that the humanist hearts couldn’t be made of stone, while the brave Turkish Muslims Jihadists’ might all be built of stone, even if the Andalusian’s love fully invented paint had flaked off-long ago-RECEP TAYYIP ERDOGAN’s vagabonds bravery based on jihad, although the stone itself seemed to be crumbling away under the fists of American and Russian brave soldiers who hindered massacres aiming at destruction to delete Kurdish existence in Syria. Humboldt thought fleetingly of his own home town-The Europe, which was hardly inferior to the nest of Jihadists viz. the New Ottoman Empire. If he had come to the thought only to see the places not matching to make love. He would have made a long journey over free thought namely liberal mentality for nothing much, and he would have done better to revisit the old European Culture abstractly that he hadn’t seen for so long. In his mind when he compared the church tower of his childhood home with the tower up above to too ear scratching noisy minarets in the occupied Constantinople. The former, tapering into a spire and coming down to a broad, red-tiled roof, was certainly a super humanitarian building, huh? And yet the others had been erected for a higher purpose than those huddled, low-built souls of Islamic terrorists and made a clearer statement than the dull, bloody world of the terror nests did. The tower up there-the only visible one-now turned out to belong to a dwelling, perhaps the main part of the call to the new Caliphate. It was a simple, round building, partly covered with dubious anti-civilization, and it had small windows opening to love, now shining in the Islamic Terror flares burning especially Paris. There was something crazed about the sight and was built into the shape of a bravura at the top of the new caliph’s palace in Ankara, with insecure, irregular battlements, crumbling as if drawn by an anxious or careless child as they stood out, zigzag fashion, against the humanist heavens. It was as if some mischievous inhabitant of the place, who should really have stayed locked up in the most remote room in the house, had broken through the roof and was standing erect to show himself to the world. Once again Humboldt augmented his free thought, as if standing still improved his powers of love and peace.

[mickthinks]

Screen Shot 2021-11-21 at 17.32.31.png

[JoeP]

And every one of those D posts over 10 years a work of unparalleled writing.

[SOLZHENITSOF]

SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!

Continuing from the previous chapters...

Naturally after a while his attention would be distracted. Beyond the retarded love bed of his where he now was-in fact it was only a matrix with a blanket filling for the quilt , extended like the carpet to a divan-a hole under its surface so that it could hold the whole volume of a pair rolling within sexual intercourse the man and the lady engaged lying on the floor as that of the sexuality induced theatre scenes designed for mating part of the act. His home or rather its main chamber was a wide, low building, curiously combining the character of something temporary and something betwixt an elder and a young, and it stood in a childhood house based on a fenced garden that was now covered partly with soil.
Then he resumed his observation in the street dominated by a flock of children who were just coming out, with their teacher like he-guide. They crowded around him, all eyes were fixed on him, and they were talking away the whole time, so fast that Humboldt. couldn’t make out what kind of love making terms they were using during a general congregation enclaved among pedestrians to have consisted of other gender in every pair making love while protecting their stand still positions. The guide or the teacher, a robust, broad-shouldered elder man who held himself very upright, but without appearing ridiculous, already seen Humboldt-the one and only elder lover in the street- from a distance after all, apart from his own students’ flock. Essentially Humboldt was the only non-living soul cope with the crowdy regulars of mating just before a while to be seen far and wide. Adding to the mental confusion of the elderly modern Casanova himself the richly considerations ad hoc love should have made him as the unique stranger there, to have been greeted first, noticed that despite his elder stature he was used to being in command in the love bed.
‘Salute sire’ or ‘Good morning, sir,’ someone would be honouring Humboldt one after another so that all at once the children would fall silent, and the well experienced pedestrians probably appreciated this sudden silence in anticipation of advent remarks to be coming from elderly lover. ‘Looking at the legs of the women, are you?’ he asked himself, more gently than his customarily reactions within the frame from mouth to ears when soliloquy he must had expected, but in a tone suggesting that he didn’t like what he was doing. ‘Yes,’ said he his ego through his id or vice versa ‘I’m a stranger over nuptial matrix for I’m much more bachelor than The Father-Pope; I arrived in the place for mating easily because I could find delicious the woman’s legs instead of detesting-only yesterday or such around. What comes of the case then? Do I like the ordinary organs sufficient to build my lust linked any sexual ecstasy?’ He was quick to reply himself by means of a question so ‘What?’ he asked himself in return, slightly surprised by the truth that would be able to explain the reason of unexpected lust. He repeated the question type answer in a milder tone. ‘Everybody do choose the objects of lust from the other-or even the same-sex induced people living around, huh?

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by mickthinks

Attachment 12232

What should make Humboldt to think that such things? ‘Strangers never do feel the necessity of escaping from their childhood,’ murmured he as the teacher like tourist guides should-after having adopted ad hoc style of speaking-give instruction while appeasing the visitors, and remind them of the necessity the old inhabitants would felt stale unhappiness as if caused by the past days, weeks, years at the same place to have made them to feel themselves as if being drowned under the turbid waters filling their personal histories. Here he decided to change his personal story not to let that subject to compel him avoiding from remembrance involved remembering anything the mere male wouldn’t like to carry to the mind. And yet asked again-fervently asked-of course ‘I expect you remember that G.D was and is so let be peace in the love bed, Okay?’ ‘YEP,’ replied he, The Rescuer was, is, and will be!’ When his self-declared ultimatum was about to turn away, he wouldn’t be giving up… The guide like teacher and Humboldt began to chat: ‘What? You don’t know me?’ ‘What makes you think I would?’ and chattering would be go on very quietly, and one of the twos added in a louder voice, speaking decorated with French: ‘Monsieur kindly recollect that we’re in the company of adolescent boys.’ This made both of them think one might properly ask: ‘Could I visit you one day, monsieur s’il vou plait? I shall be here for some time, and feel rather isolated regarding to the crowds to have given illusions very abstract before I went to love bed concretely; I don’t fit in with the local bride candidates here, and I don’t suppose I shall fit in at my home either.’ ‘There’s no distinction between the local people and the universal inter-sex relations,’ said the teacher like guide. ‘Maybe not,’ said Humboldt, ‘but that makes no difference to my situation. May I visit you some time?’ ‘I lodge in the nearest street paralleled to this we’re, at a house let me.’ This was more of a statement than an invitation, but all the same Humboldt said: ‘Good, then I’ll come.’ The other nodded, and went on with the crowd of adolescent boys, who all started lecturing again so they soon disappeared along a street that ran steeply downhill. But Humboldt was distracted, fretting at this conversation. For the first time since his parking at the street after quitting his maiden love bed he felt real weariness. At first the unexpected love here had not seemed to affect him at all-and he had walked for hours, step after step, on and on-but now all that physical strain was claiming its due, and at just the wrong time. The event he shared with a half guide half teacher man was irresistibly drawn to seek new acquaintances, but without ignoring the probability that every new acquaintance could leave him wearier than ever. If he forced himself to walk at least as far as the entrance to the gate of the girl’s-say, darling’s-house, that was more than enough in his present state.

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by JoeP

And every one of those D posts over 10 years a work of unparalleled writing.

The speed of time-generally-elapsing so he made love-covered wit a mist of unexpectedness- after mating he took intensively a rest, went out, walked on, but it was not a long way apt to inventing stories such as running into a guide or teacher and chattering so that he felt his imagination fallen into another obligation to invent another story and yet he was unable to repeat any for he was in the main street of the village, and it did not lead to any place strange enough to think up something as strange as those past already but merely passed close to itself before turning aside, as if on purpose, and although it moved no further away from the home of his, it came no closer either. Humboldt kept thinking that it wouldn’t be road for roads should have finally bring him to the home, and, if only because of that expectation, he went on pondering ad hoc love making. Because of his weariness he naturally shrank from leaving that thought, and he was surprised by the extent of the old home of his-its bigness, which seemed as if it could never give way to make love, with more and more little intervals through intervals of romantic bundles of kissing, while its window-panes covered not by flowers, and with no laces and the absence of other broidery or such things so at last he tore his brain’s tendency towards deep thought away from the speculations on which he had persisted and struck out down a narrow alley where the confusion lay even deeper.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by SOLZHENITSOF

The speed of time-generally-elapsing so he made love-covered wit a mist of unexpectedness- after mating he took intensively a rest, went out, walked on, but it was not a long way apt to inventing stories such as running into a guide or teacher and chattering so that he felt his imagination fallen into another obligation to invent another story and yet he was unable to repeat any for he was in the main street of the village, and it did not lead to any place strange enough to think up something as strange as those past already but merely passed close to itself before turning aside, as if on purpose, and although it moved no further away from the home of his, it came no closer either. Humboldt kept thinking that it wouldn’t be road for roads should have finally bring him to the home, and, if only because of that expectation, he went on pondering ad hoc love making. Because of his weariness he naturally shrank from leaving that thought, and he was surprised by the extent of the old home of his-its bigness, which seemed as if it could never give way to make love, with more and more little intervals through intervals of romantic bundles of kissing, while its window-panes covered not by flowers, and with no laces and the absence of other broidery or such things so at last he tore his brain’s tendency towards deep thought away from the speculations on which he had persisted and struck out down a narrow alley where the confusion lay even deeper.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Humboldt pondered: ‘For those whose training time is very valuable, it is boring at first because during the preparatory period, you cannot make daily or hourly work schedules to get to the whole base. But if the basics are completed individually or in various branches, it is under your control to start and finish the work one would be in, whether in the morning, in the evening, or even in the afternoon or at night.’
Eventually he should visit the girl’s home so soon and hardly he had finished that requisition induced mission than he began to walk away towards her family’s house. Of course, there need must some preparatory calculations:
At last, some minutes of the steam drifted away alongside him, and gradually Humboldt felt that he was able to pull himself together.
In his youth, he wished that happy moments would never pass, even though he unconsciously knew they would pass and was slightly upset. However, at a very mature age, he wants the same things and the presently knows it clearly that all would pass, but he also takes a natural pleasure from the absence of endless moments. This seemed the ulterior goal to be lived different in different ages for everyone.
Pulling his thinking and sensing mental faculty extensions out of deep thought as they kept sinking in again was hard work all in all he broke out in a sweat, and suddenly he stopped and could go feel further. But he wasn’t entirely alone after all because of the young girl, say the school friend of the beautiful Adelaide with whom he was jumped into a sudden and unexpected love bed-its depth, there were shadows-to his right and his left-that should have known well both Humboldt and the maiden. He hastened to reach the girl’s family house, and he made a ball of tabloids and threw it at any window randomly. The front door opened at once-the first door he had seen opening on his entire walk all the way through the village-and he saw an old man in a fume overcoat, his head on one side, looking both frail and friendly. ‘May I come into your house for a little while?’ asked Humboldt. ‘I’m very tired.’ He did not hear what the old-and yet not too much older than him-man was saying, but gratefully he realized that a welcome gesture was to aim at easing his way into. This got him clear of the obscurity straight away, and a few more paces took him into the parlour of the girl’s house. It was a large, broadly lit room to have been in contradiction of the visits of his paid to the girls he shared love when he was nearly a lad. Regarding to those events coming in from outside, he could see something at first, he wouldn’t have been fed up with tasting all the existence of theirs there that should constrain him to try and stop the vision flowing before his very eyes so that he might have staggered and nearly fell over a Persian carpet thereby would-no doubt-everything would be a part of elapsing minutes. Then a woman’s hand caught him. Besides he heard her voice and roared: YEP! She ought not to be everybody but the girl with whom he has mated just before some ten and ten hours. Whereas a number of ten and ten hours he should have been spending with ladies in the love bed tending to slide under his body which he would rather make postponed within that elapsing nature in its journey from mornings to nights or vice versa.
Shadows were moving on the wall as to have been being in the past from one corner to the other. Steam of happy seconds linked to love affairs of his in their hasty chase had billowed out of another, and then was going on with the same process although Humboldt was sure that the peerless visit, he paid to the one he made love not before a long time. (Strange to say the love induced hours should be stopped both in the past and “present” time while their non stopped nature wouldn’t make him sad then to the contrary of all past before a long time because he as a young man should feel the dream of everlasting happiness desire inevitable in the case of love as every lover did while Humboldt the elder didn’t for he would turn into somebody able to protect time while he ought to be happy because of his getting older and to protect himself against dreariness that should be inevitably everlasting and if Humboldt might have been unhappy when he might feel surrounded by fixed clouds instead of his love for rain.
‘Am I drunk?’ is asked as something betwixt inner and superficial self-speculations. ‘What am doing during happy-I should seek time to time for-in the moments I would be tasting?’ cried Humboldt under the oppression of a peremptory voice, and added, probably turning to the old man: ‘Why didn’t you let me in? Are you to let in everyone who goes slinking around the streets?’ ‘You are the man my daughter is planning to get married for a long time,’ said the old land owner, by way of justifying himself to the still-visible yet not well-known speaker. ‘Oh, it’s the darling of mine,’ said the girl’s voice being insinuated therein, and then there was total silence. ‘You know me?’ asked Humboldt ‘Yes, indeed,’ was all the first voice said again, briefly. Knowing who he was didn’t seem to recommend him to himself at the very last.

TO BE CONTINUED....

[Basset Hound]

Can we have that translated into a language people can read?

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by Basset Hound

Can we have that translated into a language people can read?

Both shadows and lights were being in chase near the adjacent buildings and the vapour of desire came not from every door, whereas thereover some ones were having a rest in steaming blood in the lust channels, say veins and arteries of the body Humboldt felt before while; and it was about as three times or so the capacity as enough to make love in two different beds at the same time. But even being more worth to be told, although it was hard to say just why, was one of the garden gates before him.
Eventually because of the subject’s nature in the early hours of some excursion evenings, some garden entrances or exterior doors, where we would see light leaking from interior side kissing exteriority or a shadow extending from behind, belong to such houses that our grandfather's friends-say nothing of our father’s-die and shine within much more exerting induced form than those of the oldest constellations, even though their lighting capacity is twice as weak as the others should put forward all along! As for the other details, everything continues in the way we ought to be accustomed to: pickles in jars, stored nuts, molasses, even honeycomb, dried meat of foreign origin: for example, pastrami and big sausages, and prepared for the last meal of the day, where bread will be consumed a lot, therefor to have been gaining courage from them. For mor details let one try and see through a large hatch, the only opening in the back wall of the parlour, pale other bundles of lights came in, no doubt from the yard, and cast a sheer-yes unlikely sheer-silky surface on the dress of a woman almost running, for she looked so vivid, resting at times in a tall armchair far back in the scene allocated to the drawing room.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by SOLZHENITSOF

ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's Liberal Novel
(Continuing from the previous chapters...)

His hands-no matter right or left one-were ready to spread and to have been running through his hair, but he could not redress his head any more instead he worried-half giggling half whispering-about his lover ‘Who was that maiden?’ he asked for many times and too much lowered regarding to his routine voice. ‘The friend of Adela, huh?’ He was standing then in front of another shopwindow belonging nowhere, and did not even look at the signboard of the shop. ‘Oh no,’ sighed he, ‘that’s the first thing I need must look at.’ After scrutinizing it he happened to mumble, ‘Well, they have seemingly used a fine font to have been printed at the board, to be sure, what a pity my attentiveness has turned out so badly in the street…Then what about the bed of love? Oh no, I ought to be awakened after sleeping-day in and night out-for so many decades of my life.’ observed the twitches over his hand muscles, drawing to the head waiting to be scratched to have been slightly downed to the nearest ear. ‘I-Humboldt the elderly was putting on airs in the love bed; my father is only as two third-at the most-as younger than that of my age then in the wedding hall to have been the bridegroom for he was one of the most junior of the husbandry candidates in those days.’ he guffawed sneakily. At this moment al the parents of his seemed like a child to Humboldt. ‘What a rascal!’ should have they said, laughing if they had seen him while making love with a young girl two times younger than him. However, his senses did not join in his laughter based on reason, but said, ‘Obviously my father was powerful too adding to his youth that would dare to get married as an adolescent.’ And he opposed to himself ‘Oh, come along!’ moreover rebelling ‘I think everyone is powerful. Including me, I wonder?’ ‘No,’ he rebuked himself, diffidently but gravely, ‘I don’t think I’m powerful. And yet a very good observer, then,’ he would give his own consent say nothing more his speculation ‘The fact is, and just between my reason and my sense, I really am not powerful. And as a result, I probably feel no less respect for the powerful than I should do, but I am not as honest as me before the sexual intercourse and won’t always admit it.’ And to cheer his ego and show his own good-will to his hopeful spirit, he tapped lightly on the left cheek because of his postural addiction to have kept his head leaning slightly towards right. At this Humboldt did also smile a little. Ah! Those old good days he was only a boy really, with a soft and almost beardless face. How had he come to marry as a stout elderly a girl too much young who could not be imagined through a hatch bustling about the kitchen next door, hands on her hips, elbows jutting, huh? But Humboldt did not want to probe the man any further now, or wipe the smile he had finally won from him off his face; he just signed to her face image reflected from the shopwindows supervising the pavement giving the chance to have stepped out into the street caressed by a familiar breeze. Now he could see the white clouds swept by the same wind above, distinctly outlined in the clear air, and standing out even more distinctly because of the thin beams of the sun!

TO BE CONTINUED...

He fancied as if he were a baby at his young sweetheart’s breast while a few sprites were playing around the mating pair, obviously some of them urchin elves, although they did not look like an extra-terrestrial themselves, but gaiety and weariness free happiness could make even rustics appear refined. ‘Sit down on his copulative machine,’ said one of the impulses having been sprouting from behind girl’s hips, as she girl, seeming like a wrestling fellow who kept his mouth open all the time under her pink cheeks, breathing noisily. Raising her hand above the side of the matrix, a comical sight oozed her position while she got the point!

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's novel
SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!

Continuing from the previous chapters...

Ultimately, Humboldt made his way home, but it wasn't one of his everyday evening turns. His routine departures from the house-which he would first pretend to go in the direction of the fruit and vegetable wholesalers, where the Circassian neighborhood is located a short distance away, then decide on the side of a prayer house and a bakery and the big groceries adjacent to it-was based on an agenda, and on his return back he only focused on one situation: an empty mind, rote movements, an empty night agenda, a little use of mass media and sleep time… Actually, when he was outside, he might do an educational job in his particles–let's not say articles-that were theoretically attached to differential equations, so he could have tried to read the essays, by laying the skin in a hot drink shop or it were possible by the means of summer as an embracing season. in the park, huddled in a vacant corner of a sofa-like bench. Here, since there was no attraction in the house arising from the lack of opportunity, he had to go to the bed after the early night teas after the meal. Sometimes he would take an attack like attempt to study before sleep, but because of the hugely enhanced time and space belonged to him, he could not read two lines on mathematics. Anyway, on the way back, he had an idea then, and he was full of confidence. It was possible that he would occasionally grab a corner from his own sofa, steal a few quarters from his own clock or rather from several hours of his, and improve himself by thinking, reading, and taking notes. In the meantime, he could explore the main points viz. the trifling spots wrapped by the adventure he shared with the girl, and in doing so splashed imaginations all over his skull hah-hah. The elder man who had let himself in was sitting on the chest of a universal fanciful study time planning too, lost in thought.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by SOLZHENITSOF

ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's novel
SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!

Continuing from the previous chapters...

Ultimately, Humboldt made his way home, but it wasn't one of his everyday evening turns. His routine departures from the house-which he would first pretend to go in the direction of the fruit and vegetable wholesalers, where the Circassian neighborhood is located a short distance away, then decide on the side of a prayer house and a bakery and the big groceries adjacent to it-was based on an agenda, and on his return back he only focused on one situation: an empty mind, rote movements, an empty night agenda, a little use of mass media and sleep time… Actually, when he was outside, he might do an educational job in his particles–let's not say articles-that were theoretically attached to differential equations, so he could have tried to read the essays, by laying the skin in a hot drink shop or it were possible by the means of summer as an embracing season. in the park, huddled in a vacant corner of a sofa-like bench. Here, since there was no attraction in the house arising from the lack of opportunity, he had to go to the bed after the early night teas after the meal. Sometimes he would take an attack like attempt to study before sleep, but because of the hugely enhanced time and space belonged to him, he could not read two lines on mathematics. Anyway, on the way back, he had an idea then, and he was full of confidence. It was possible that he would occasionally grab a corner from his own sofa, steal a few quarters from his own clock or rather from several hours of his, and improve himself by thinking, reading, and taking notes. In the meantime, he could explore the main points viz. the trifling spots wrapped by the adventure he shared with the girl, and in doing so splashed imaginations all over his skull hah-hah. The elder man who had let himself in was sitting on the chest of a universal fanciful study time planning too, lost in thought.

TO BE CONTINUED...

According to Humboldt, a middle-aged fresh lover, there was also this issue: Perceiving the minutes in our house as too large and the room volumes to be perceived as too large intensifies your work responsibilities. Indeed, Humboldt must have always thought like the international antifascist poet Ashik M. Sheriff. Because now he remembers it with sadness, he remembers it with regret. What is the extent of what you steal from time and volume in a patisserie corner, so that you can regret the time you can't use or waste? Wouldn't the regret for wasted time waste your time in the near future? Apparently, the antifascist Ashik M. Sheriff must have spread this pessimistic view to health and hygiene issues; Otherwise, why should he close, dears:
"The doctor is sick, I am sick too, is he better than me?"
In short - according to Humboldt, of course - human life consists of homework, and is-merely-to have been a student. Bad students waste the present and future hours in advance because they would be burning because of remorse based on squandering time!
Thank him so far…and yet though still at the age of creative thinking, this age would not provide him with even the slightest mental activity without assuming some of the dead ones alive and some living bodies dead. Because many people whom he would complain about their evil should have already migrated to the hereafter. The flow of life will bring him happiness in the past, happiness again in the future as well, but also doubts... Oh… The Jesus Christ!

TO BE CONTINUED...

[Basset Hound]

Gander gander goosey. Desi and Lucy. Gander gander gander gander gander gander goosey. Abba Vite should write in Turkish, and get his works published in that language. His, Her, Its English is almost unintelligible.

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by Basset Hound

Gander gander goosey. Desi and Lucy. Gander gander gander gander gander gander goosey. Abba Vite should write in Turkish, and get his works published in that language. His, Her, Its English is almost unintelligible.

HEY LADY HOUND, LOL
LISTEN TO MY CHRISTMAS CAROL!

Xmas; Say Doc the Jesus
The good HE-comrade Abba used to chant:
"The doctor is not sick, neither I am, is He better than me? Yeah"
In short-according to the comrades, of course-human life consists of homework,
Although, it’s-merely-to have been of a student so let’s waste not any clock
Waiting the present and future hours in advance because they would be burning Because of remorse based on squandering time! Ah…

Thank him so far…and yet though the human still at the age of creation a lot,
Wouldn’t, eh, provide anybody with even the slightest mental activity without
To have assumed some of the dead ones alive and some living bodies dead, deadly
For many people whom he would complain about their evil should have already
Highly-likely migrated to the hereafter. The flow of life will bring us happiness
As in the past, happiness again in the future as well, but no doubt... Oh, Jesus
The Jesus Christ, you know only how many times we call the name of yours!

[SOLZHENITSOF]

Originally Posted by SOLZHENITSOF

HEY LADY HOUND, LOL
LISTEN TO MY CHRISTMAS CAROL!

Xmas; Say Doc the Jesus
The good HE-comrade Abba used to chant:
"The doctor is not sick, neither I am, is He better than me? Yeah"
In short-according to the comrades, of course-human life consists of homework,
Although, it’s-merely-to have been of a student so let’s waste not any clock
Waiting the present and future hours in advance because they would be burning Because of remorse based on squandering time! Ah…

Thank him so far…and yet though the human still at the age of creation a lot,
Wouldn’t, eh, provide anybody with even the slightest mental activity without
To have assumed some of the dead ones alive and some living bodies dead, deadly
For many people whom he would complain about their evil should have already
Highly-likely migrated to the hereafter. The flow of life will bring us happiness
As in the past, happiness again in the future as well, but no doubt... Oh, Jesus
The Jesus Christ, you know only how many times we call the name of yours!

ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's novel
SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!

Continuing from the previous chapters...

Entering in the front hall of his home, Humboldt connected his contemplation of education and duration with a humble sentence. 'As a matter of fact, a propos the moment I'm in, it's as if one of my great-uncle's got married at a very old age, pretentiously clinging to that brand new linked to that very moment identicaly, say based on one and only moment, that fresh, number one start-aside from everyone else's thinking-it really out-lived or expired. not counted. Now I go back to the finishing touches of the wedding ceremony on the memorial day, carried on err… on a kind of big balcony, and I see that the old freshness I shared there in the past, the fresh update that I now loot on my own account-yes it's not stale but it's nothing, the so-called fresh update-compared to the future expiration of the production date it makes that necessary to write its date production in the future as well–whatever it is–which should be considered newer than the newest. Anyway, where have you seen something called go stale, huh? Even though we pretend we didn't live if the idea compels the result, unfortunately we didn't live, just as if we are sure of a lively and healthy life when we are living fully, but are tired of showing signs of life. When it comes to experiences to have lived without understanding the life-saving power of the Messiah, it only teaches people the principle of "kill someone else instead of making yourself to live". Indeed, nothing should be worth of anything as a wish to perpetuate the teaching of destruction!

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's novel
SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!

Continuing from the previous chapters...


He was very eager to have been glad of the chance to sit down at last after spending a lot of energy outdoors in spide of the peaceful situation wherein none bothered about him anymore. Entering in the front hall of his home, Humboldt connected his contemplation of education and duration with a humble sentence. 'As a matter of fact, a propos the moment I'm in, it's as if one of my great-uncle's got married at a very old age, pretentiously clinging to that brand new linked to that very moment identically, say based on one and only moment, that fresh, number one start-aside from everyone else's thinking-it really out-lived or expired. not counted. Now I go back to the finishing touches of the wedding ceremony on the memorial day, carried on err… on a kind of big balcony, and I see that the old freshness I shared there in the past, the fresh update that I now loot on my own account-yes it's not stale but it's nothing, the so-called fresh update-compared to the future expiration of the production date it makes that necessary to write its date production in the future as well–whatever it is–which should be considered newer than the newest. Anyway, where have you seen something called go stale, huh? Even though we pretend we didn't live if the idea compels the result, unfortunately we didn't live, just as if we are sure of a lively and healthy life when we are living fully, but are tired of showing signs of life. When it comes to experiences to have lived without understanding the life-saving power of the Messiah, it only teaches people the principle of "kill someone else instead of making yourself to live". Indeed, nothing should be worth of anything as a wish to perpetuate the teaching of destruction!
The young woman that was at home of his surprisingly, no matter she was blonde or not, too young or not, buxom or not, was kissing softly in the bed of an elderly man who probably to haven’t been worth to be kissed physically, and yet the man on the matrix would jump out from under the quilt and stamp his foot angerly if that fresh female’s lips should not have touched to his and be turning around the place this way and that for he knew that, the love angel and the other celestial bodies-in charge of humanity protection-around were trying to make the male and female to get closer to each other for they were always chased lovers by great tricks of mesmerism which did not spare the petite lady either while the man squashing her hips in his arms laying as if lifeless, not even looking up and down at the moment the sweetheart would be at his breast, but gazing also vaguely especially downwards. The green-horn she lovemaker had probably been watching everything unchanging, sad, and gazing the beautiful scene for some time, but then he might have fallen asleep, for when a loud voice hailed him he woke with a start and found that his head was resting on the shoulder of the fresh lady beside her.
The man finished at last the sweating when making love as if to have bathed in a tub used in antic centuries giving the chance to the bathing children who had had the ability of splashing about in it, alongside the sweet heart and love angels watching over him and were standing semi-fully clothed in front of Humboldt. That very man, say Humboldt, should be treated in esteem from the point of mastering the notion based on love induced spirit decorated with both blindness and far sightseeing or rather empowered over to have been be both the less important but most dear of the two in the bed while the other partner, no worthless than him and with a much sparser saliva on the kissing lips, and would be quieter, slower-thinking lover, not as sturdy as the other from the point of stature, and her thinner face far from his broad of face alongside to have held head bent. ‘Mr Land Surveyor, sir,’ he said, ‘forgive the incivility, but you can’t stay here.’ ‘I didn’t want to stay here depraved of pondering,’ thought Humboldt, ‘neither only to rest for a little while nor till I feel rested now and then, and be on my routine way going to sleep ultimately.’

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's novel
SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!! SERIAL…. THE BACK’S AFTER TOMORROW!

Continuing from the previous chapters...



‘I’m probably surprised to find me-myself so inhospitable when making love,’ said Humboldt, ‘but hospitality isn’t a custom where some religious principles would reign, and good believers ought not to be need any sexual partners around them coming out of the procedure not regarding moral-if not accepted religiously-unto slightly refreshed by sleepy thoughts, and listening a little more attentively than before, Humboldt was glad to hear his soul speak so frankly.



TOME 2

Part V





Although living within the neighborhood where some people like Humboldt would be seemingly irritated by the details of humanly interactions little Simon should feel great self-confidence, happiness, and hopefulness for Simon was-if the bare truth to be accentuated-not an atheist that might leave people both to reason infinitely, and to total insecurity to be felt obligatorily amidst the probable perils of the jungle called life. Whereas the little boy tended to read some simplified texts in non-religious philosophy induced essays all which may be guiding to success in all the ways of the mortal life as his and all creatures, a propos moral virtue if the religion were not exist adding to it he would-all in all-prefer his religion based on simplicity say nothing of religions could be apt to carry weird or innocent superstitions superposed upon all the notions based on belief! Therefore, little Simon did never perturb parents; while prejudices linked to irrationality like superstitions which he had been donated to himself couldn’t implied any confusion as many would do.

From the other side when he might examine the opinions of people, he was to find that nothing is more uncommon, than common sense; or, in other words, the average lacking judgment to perceive the bare truths, or to reject absurdities, and even to feel contradictories. He has had an example of this in the general belief system all over the history revered in all countries by a great number of humans; an object regarded by them as most important, and indispensable to happiness. An examination of the principles upon which the quasi system might be founded, forces us to acknowledge, that these principles are only suppositions penetrated through ignorance, carried away by self-enthusiasm or bravura, adopted by naive credulity, preserved by custom which never reasons, and revered solely because of mis understanding so that within a nut shell it’s obvious that whoever uses common sense upon religious opinions, and will bestow on this inquiry the attention that is commonly given to most subjects, will easily perceive that religion ought to be seen as a mere prejudice. Briefly in the little Simon’s case bigotry based not on ignorance of natural causes; a physic laws and contradictory over rational considerations.



TO BE CONTINUED...