His Name Was Khazarl And He Was A Monster

Martin Lindstedt



Date: Fri, 14 May 1999 00:11:11 -0500
To: "Khazarl Worden" (wolfeyes@cdsnet.net)
From: Martin Lindstedt (mlindste@jscomm.net)
Cc: Mike Kemp (minutemn@internetpro.net), EtFD (ewolfe@involved.com),
        "The Greater Khazaristan Times&Tattler" (Editor@Vigo-Examiner.com),
        "Jim Barnes" (patriot@vallnet.com), jfloyd@airnet.net,
        freewolf@rocketship.com, opf@illusions.com,
        OutPostofFreedom@list.illusions.com, chuck@christiancommonlaw-gov.org
Subject: His Name Was Khazarl and He Was A Monster [Re: who is the author?]

From: Martin Lindstedt (mlindste@jscomm.net)

At 12:53 PM 5/13/99 -0700, wolfeyes-in-Khazar-clothing wrote:
>I'm going to make a prediction that is virtually certain to come true:
>When someone holds such toxic psychological poisons within them, as
>Martin Lindstedt does, it seems they always die real slow from cancer,
>like it's eating them from the inside out.  Carl F. Worden


    Really Khazarl, what freudian Khazar bullshit you peddle. Besides, 
I certainly am the very last person who is politically self-repressed. 
You are the one with a repression problem, as every time you vent 
your true feelings in a public forum, The Greater Khazaristan 
Times&Tattler ends up having to shove them into the old memory hole 
of Orwell's.  Perhaps TGKT&T had ought to set up a necessity atop its 
gaping memory hole, put a little building around it, carve a little 
half-moon on the door, call it the "Or-well" and open it to the 

    Khazarl, what are you dying from, then?  Anticipated withdrawal 
from White America?  Anticipated social-parasite dip poisoning?  
Revelation anxiety?  Racial Nationalist penis envy?

     See:  http://www.mo-net.com/~mlindste/kz021199.html

    I remember that you posted to The Greater Khazaristan Times&Tattler 
an article in which you boasted about how as a cowardly little shit a 
plan by which you hid pins and needles inside a lump of modelling clay. 
The Title of which was: "His Name Was Marcus, And He Was A Monster."

   Jim Barnes posted a response, and it was so telling that The Greater 
Khazaristan Times&Tattler immediately shoved your article down the old 
memory hole.  Seems like it really put a lie to your professed 
churchianity, Khazarl, and that of the infilltraitors and sneaks around 

   Frankly Khazarl, you hate White People.  You really hate those of us 
who are fighting to restore White America for White People. I point out 
that if you hate us so much, you simply have no right to live as a 
parasite off of us and among us.  We neither want nor need to have 
you around.  Go live among those you serve.  Practice what you preach.

   As for your character, let me point out to something in which you 
were an author, and which you and the Greater Khazaristan Times hid --
and for good reason when it was pointed out to the morally blind like 
yourself:  The above-mentioned article which was pulled by TGKT&T. 

   The fact of the matter is that you are loyalists only to a form of 
government -- the CONstitution -- which is a document giving absolute 
power to evil imperialists with minimal responsibility for that 
power.  You imperialists hate the thought of Khazars not getting to 
impose genocide upon Whites, and rightly regard a growing White 
Nationalist movement restoring power to White People and a Christian 
Identity religion which strips Khazars from their bogus claim of being 
the LORD's Chosen People with fear and loathing.  Which is to be 
expected.  One should not expect America's internal parasites to love 
being purged.

   Alexander Solzhenitsyn in "The Gulag Archepelago" described what 
happened to the criminals who used to oppress the political prisoners 
when they were segregated in their own camps.  They sickened and died. 
Similarly Khazarl and The Greater Khazaristan Times&Tattler are 
suffering from advance notification of their parasitic expulsion. 

    Snarl, Khazarl, snarl. Snarl at the nasty garlic, wolfsbane, 
crucifixes, wooden stakes, holy water and silver bullets.  Gimme 
me a snarl as well.  

--Martin Lindstedt
Resistance Political Front
Resistance Internal Security

    For a better look at infilltraitors revealed, see: A Resistance 
Rogue's Gallery at URL:


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From: "Jim Barnes" (patriot@vallnet.com)
To: (Carl@Vigo-Examiner.com)
Cc: "Martin Lindstedt" (mlindste@clandjop.com),
Date: Sat, 24 Apr 1999 23:05:25 -0500
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Subject: [resistancepoliticalfront] Re: His Name was Marcus, and he was a

I have held my tongue on several occasions when the Vigo-Examiner has 
allowed Carl Worden to editorialize on subjects such as what a fine and 
honorable person he is for being a good little criminal regime 
collaborator. I have wondered how such individuals come about, and now 
Carl has shared the answer with us.

Yes, Carl, there was a day in America when " Kids were supposed to work 
things out between themselves ......" It was a day in which boys were 
expected and encouraged to become brave, honorable, responsible men. To 
your father's credit, you have indicated that he was such a man. 
Hopefully he never knew what a cowardly, depraved child he sired. As he 
tried to teach you, there are much worse things in life than
facing pain and adversity. By facing such things a boy grows to be a 
man and gains respect from both peers and self.

Part of the problem today may be that "staff will now intervene if 
they see things getting physical." My family moved often as I grew 
up. I attended more schools than I spent years in public schools. 
One of the rituals for the new kid in those days was to determine 
where he stood in the pecking order. A new challenger was waiting
at the end of each school day. To run away or hide would simply 
relegate one to being constantly tormented by bullies. There were 
many times I wished to stay home "sick," because I had been hurt 
defending myself the previous day, but my father taught me, as yours 
attempted to teach you, that one must never run from adversity.
This sometimes ended before I was beaten, because the next boy 
would declare a truce. Other times I suffered bruises, a bloody nose, 
and/or black eyes. I didn't start fights, though I sometimes 
interceded against a bully hurting a smaller child, but I never ran 
from a fight. At each school, I left friends among every clique;
bookworms, jocks, and hoodlums alike.

All that seems to matter today is that children "feel good" about 
themselves without effort or accomplishment; that they have self 
respect without work, pain, responsibility, or adversity.  Feelings 
are more important than actions today. This is the evil which causes 
the atrocities, both those committed by our children and ourselves 
through our illegitimate, tyrannical government.

You state that "My strict Christian upbringing prevented me from 
even considering taking one of my dad's guns to school to end the 
torment." Don't kid yourself, Carl. By virtue of the cowardly, 
despicable action you describe, and the fact you still take pride in 
it today ("Heh, heh." I believe is your current response), the only
thing separating you from these children is your cowardice. Contributing 
this to your "Christian upbringing" should bring universal condemnation 
from all who read your missive, except those who share your depravity. 
It wasn't the "light went on in my wee brain," Carl. It was the demonic 
spirit still in control of your worthless soul. 

At one point you state, "I have often wondered if he died as a result 
or perhaps lost his hands, and it troubles me." I can tell how much it 
bothers you when you think of it, Carl, "Heh, heh." Thus we have the 
answer to what created at least one criminal regime collaborator. A 
small, frail, weak, cowardly, devious, monster of a child became a 
small, detestable adult. Seems Martin Lindstedt had you nailed from
the beginning; doesn't it? You are truly one sick puppy, Khazarl.

James William Barnes

 From: Circ@Vigo-Examiner.com (Circulation@Vigo-Examiner.com)
          His Name was Marcus, and he was a Monster
 The Vigo Examiner
 I was in third grade then, 8 years old and I was small and somewhat 
frail for my age. Until I was 7 years old, I'd suffered from an 
undiagnosed infection that turned out to be inflamed tonsils. The 
problem was that in 1956, my tonsils were infected from the rear 
and looked normal with visual examination down my throat. They didn't
have advanced diagnostic procedures then, and doctors still made house 
calls, so over a full year period I was given 148 shots of penicillin 
in my scrawny little 7-year-old ass to suppress the infection until 
the cause for it could be determined. On a pure hunch, my doctor 
yanked my tonsils (which exploded in his hand) and I began my 
recovery. Needless to say, I do not like needles to this day.

 Marcus had flunked at least one grade and maybe two, and he was 
large for his age.  He was aggressive and dominant and mean and 
vicious and cruel. I was the smallest and weakest in the class, so 
he picked me to be his punching bag. The other kids in the class 
were smaller than Marcus too, but they would egg him on to go 
after me, perhaps, and probably, because they also feared him and 
that would keep his mind off them. I learned a lot about human 
nature when I was 8. For almost that entire school year I lived in 
pure terror, walking to the elementary school grounds in the morning
using different arrival points to avoid him, and running for my 
life when the bell rang, signaling class was over.

 I remember it well: When the teacher would turn her back, Marcus 
would turn around towards me with an evil grimace on his fat face 
and hold his massive, meaty fist up, letting me know what awaited 
me at recess.

 For me, recess never came. I stayed in the class room every day 
and Marcus would wait just outside, hoping I'd emerge so he could 
run me down and pin me in front of his adoring fans and spit in my face.

 Looking back, I now know the teachers had to have known what was going 
on, but they never intervened, not once that I can recall. Kids were 
supposed to work things out between themselves in those days. My own 
parents seemed incapable of grasping the daily terror I endured. My 
father was a big man and would try to teach me how to fight. He'd tell 
me all I had to do was fight a bully back just once and he'd leave
me alone after that. Yeah, right: I'd have been crippled for life. But 
I did have a brain, and I used it.

 In our class, we had what we called "Clay Time". Each desk had a ball 
of clay perched on the corner of it, and at the given signal we would 
all mold our ball of clay into something creative. Marcus was a master 
clay molder and made the very best animals, cars and whatever. He'd 
always show off his superior strength by grabbing that huge ball of 
clay and mash it repeatedly between his strong hands for all to
see what might happen to their heads if they ever crossed him. That's 
when the light went on in my wee brain, but not until nearly the end 
of the school year. Heh, heh.

 During one of my self-imposed exiles at recess, it occurred to me I had 
to do something about Marcus' hands in order to keep them off me. 
Brilliant deduction. So I went to the bulletin board and secured every 
straight pin I could manage in the time I had. I inserted those pins 
in all directions in Marcus' clay ball, carefully molding the clay over 
the top of each pin to conceal the trap I'd laid for him.  Satisfied 
with my work, I returned the clay ball back in it's place on Marcus' 
desk and waited for the class to return.

 When clay time was announced, Marcus grabbed up his ball and proceeded 
to mash it into submission as usual. It took a good three or four mashes 
before Marcus let out a blood curdling scream. When I looked up, there 
was Marcus with an astonished, horrified look on his face. The pins 
were sticking all the way through both hands.

 They took Marcus to the nurses station and I never saw him again the 
rest of the day. The teacher called an immediate adjournment to regular 
class and demanded to know who had done this terrible thing. She looked 
around the room at every student, settling her unmistakably alarmed eyes 
on me for what seemed an eternity, and then continued to look around the 
room. She knew. You could have heard a pin drop. Then she said this was 
a terrible, terrible thing to do to someone and finally resigned
herself that no one would cop to the dastardly deed. Class resumed.

 The next day, Marcus showed up in class with both hands heavily 
bandaged and unable to write. The following day, Marcus was absent and 
remained absent through the end of the term. Marcus had gotten a blood 
infection from the dirty clay and pins. I never saw Marcus again, even 
the following year, and I have often wondered what may have happened 
to him. I have often wondered if he died as a result or perhaps lost
his hands, and it troubles me.

 Marcus never laid a hand on me again.

 My strict Christian upbringing prevented me from even considering 
taking one of my dad's guns to school to end the torment. Murder was 
out of the question. Obviously, murder is not out of the question 
today. Kids have always had access to guns, but they have never felt 
unrestrained to use them until now.

 I am telling you this story for a reason. Those kids who shot up the 
class of '99 at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado were 
reportedly vilified on a daily basis by so-called "jocks". Maybe they 
were gay and maybe they weren't; I don't know. Maybe the constant 
drone of disrespect and public rejection finally got to them. I have 
no way of knowing if they were subject to physical attacks, but they
might have been. That happens in public schools a lot, and the staff 
will now intervene if they see things getting physical, but they still 
do not intervene in matters of verbal and emotional abuse. Maybe they 

 Food for thought.

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My take on "His name was Khazarl and He Was A Monster"

    The first thing which must be realized is that Khazarl Worden 
probably made all this up.  Khazarl has no allegiance to the truth; 
in fact he admits that he (probably along with Red Mike Vanderboegh 
of the Tri-States Militia/Coalition and Alabama Bureau of Investigation)
supposedly lied about being a "babtized Jew" in order to get me to 
reveal that I am a White Nationalist. Then, in triumph Khazarl revealed 
that he was not a so-called 'Jew' but really a racial scalawag.  Of 
course Khazarl's witless 'sting' revealed nothing except that I am 
a White Nationalist/Identity Christian and the fact that Khazarl 
is an effortless pathological liar, all of which was already known 
by people of normal IQ and above.

   So the little story above is probably false about what the little 
monster Khazarl did, other than it gives a pretty compelling look 
at Khazarl's inherent nature.  Khazarl is too much of a coward today 
to post his picture and name on his own WWW page today.  Since the 
child is father of the man, can anyone really believe that Khazarl 
would have injured the "mythical Marcus" if, as he fantisizes, that 
the little skrule teacher and his little classmates knew about the 
cowardly deed?  Of course not!  The story was simply Khazarl's 
inner Khazar gloating about getting away with some Khazar nastiness 
against powerful goyim, while at the same time living as a quisling 
getting special dispensation from the White despots to run a usury 
scam against the goyim peasantry.  Khazar nature agelessly remains 
the same as their Talmud. 
   ("Marcus" seems to be as close to Martin as Khazarl can get 
and still not make himself too obvious.  Them stupid goyim will 
believe 'most any stupid shit if you tell it to them with a straight 
face.  The ones credulous goyim crucify are the prophets of their own 
race sent to tell them the truth.)

   But let's get to the real meaning of Khazarl's self-admission 
regardless of whether Khazarl's fantasy is really true or not.

   Now a normal person listening to little Marcus/Martin's plight 
would simply say "What can you expect?  A little monster met up with 
another little monster more evil than himself!"  No sympathy for 
either one of them.  The consolidation of children into criminal 
regimeist indoctrination centers makes this sort of thing predictable, 
customary even, in this date and time.  (Prisons and skrules are the 
government institutions over which the evil empire has the greatest 
control and influence.)  If I were to say that disturbed underbred 
little monsters act out what they have learned is acceptable behavior - 
that violence settles anything worth settling - lessons learned 
from Hollywierd and the District of the Congo and Jew York, Jew York, 
and the criminal regimeist armies of occupation and skrules, nobody 
would view me as much of a prophet.  These shootings by little 
monsters hsve grown increasingly common.  In fact, a rash of copy-cat 
plottings to do some more of this behavior were in the works, to where 
it seems like the beginnings of majoritarian rule.  The inmates have 
taken over the asylum, and the gubbnmint skrules are an open police 
state, complete with armed militarized police and SWAT teams, and 
scared-to-death skrule correctional officers.  The few kids remaining 
with independent minds of their own not destroyed by the indoctrination 
mills are increasingly looked upon as dangerous inmates.

   Of course the lessons learned from Columbine Heil Skrule were 
interesting to those who know what to look for.  One of the murderous 
little killers was a Khazar, a point deliberately suppressed by the 
jewsmedia in favor of blaming it on right-wing Neo-Nazis.  That the 
shooters may have been homosexuals has also been suppressed -- homos 
being a protected victim class.  Much has been made that the shootings 
occurred on April 20th, Adolph Hitler's birthday.  Of course if the 
shootings had occurred on April 19th, it would have been tied in to 
militia generals instead.  Much hysteria is made of the fact that 
one negro was shot in that upper-middle class heil skrule, while 
ignoring the fact that a real White Nationalist would not have shot 
white females.  Marilyn Manson, a degenerate Khazar 'musician' 
glorifying satanic degeneration as 'cool' in a never-ending river 
of cultural sludge is now off the hook.  Inanimate objects -- guns -- 
have been  blamed on what moral degenerates do, preparing the way 
for further gun control and confiscation and subsequent White civilian
disarmament and genocide.  The NRA is busily trying to save the right 
to keep and bear arms for rich White suburbanites, ready to jettison 
the rights of white 'trailer-trash' as soon as can be quietly arranged.

   Now this social distress and imperialist tyranny should not be 
worried about overmuch by a White Resistance Movement.  In fact, 
anything which will tend to escalate the current civil war by 
radicalizing and polorizing the White Majority is something to be 
desired.  If White civilian disarmament is linked to White genocide, 
and resistance is equated with criminalization, then there will be 
no peace possible and the entire country will become a free-fire 
zone, not only impossible to govern, but impossible for the misruling 
criminal regimeists to live amongst.  Either the king must be destroyed 
or the People must be enslaved.

    Khazarl's problem is that as a criminal regimeist infilltraitor 
working for a  criminal regimeist electronic rag, The Greater Khazaristan 
Times&Tattler, Khazarl must imitate what he thinks a true patriot would 
think.  A true patriot is loyal to his nation-state's population, not a 
form of government such as the CONstitution which oppresses the People 
to further the interests of a foreign alien elite such as the NWO/ZOG. 
Being a very good infilltraitor always intent on running to the head of 
the parade, Khazarl figgr'd out that the Patriot element likes seeing 
upper-middle class racial traitors and scalawags getting comeuppance 
from their murderous offspring killing each other off.  But since 
Khazarl is himself a would-be criminal regimeist eliteist, Khazarl 
cannot see this.  Yet Khazarl simply had to get to the head of the 
parade.  So Khazarl did the only thing he could do: Khazarl wrote 
an autobiographical short story about the doings of little Khazarl 
forty-some years ago.

    You see, Khazarl's problem is that in the end Khazarl is only for 
himself.  Khazarl worships only himself.  The entire criminal regimeist 
class is only out for themselves.  They are thorough Libber'Toons and 
Solipsistic Mattoid Anarchy-Fascists.  When they get the absolute 
power with minimal responsibility granted by the CONstitution, it is 
to be understood that they will do any evil deed, impose any tyranny 
because the only god they know about is themselves and their own wants.

   Hence Khazarl's nasty little fantasy is about what Khazarl did 
because it benefitted Khazarl's personal god -- himself.  Khazarl 
didn't cripple little Marcus/Martin for the good of his friends or 
his class or the publik skrule or for anyone other than himself. 
Khazarl's sole little castration anxiety was about getting caught by 
the skrule teacher making a big deal of the obvious.  But Khazarl 
deservedly got away with it because Khazarl is one of the elect.

   When Khazarl and his regimeist rag, TGKT&T published what was 
really an autobiographical account, they were surprized by the natural 
revulsion that this article produced.  Accordingly, this embarrassing 
article was cut by Khazarl and TGKT&T, and shoved down their memory 
hole, probably as soon as James Barnes published a response to them 
showing how much Khazarl and The Greater Khazaristan Times&Tattler 
were out of touch with their Christian, White, supposedly goyim Patriot 

   Now James Barnes, as far as I know, is neither White Nationalist 
nor Identity Christian.  However, he has shown to my satisfaction 
by his actions that he is a Resistance soldier and on our side.  
Barnes' writing this letter might well reap him the same reward 
from TGKT&T as was visited upon the Incomparable James Floyd last 
July for his anti-Khazar comedy.  Such regimeist paytriots as Claire 
Wolfe demanded -- and got -- Floyd's censorship and expulsion from 
TGKT&T and from that time on Khazarl Worden was put on the staff 
as chief propagandist for The Greater Khazaristan Times&Tattler.  
Comparable with other pro-regimeist paytriot rags, this fascist 
censorship was called "freedom" and reprinted/archived in TGKT&T as 
"Freedomist Paper #1 -- Does Printing Racist Articles Have Any Value?"  
The answer, of course, was "no."  Racist articles by White racists 
has no value to a pro-regimeist underground electronic publication 
devoted to subtly advancing a multi-cultural evil empire's agenda.  
Nathan Anderson, as Editor of TGKT&T said that censorship was bad 
and Claire Wolfe shouldn't get her way al the time, then he dumped 
Jim Floyd and hired Khazarl Worden.  

    By all means, read the original before The Greater Khazaristan 
Times&Tattler flushes it too down their "Or-well."  They will 
probably post a different "Freedomist #1" as opposed to leaving 
that place embarrassingly empty.  A copy will be retained at 
Patrick Henry On-Line as TGKT&T's "TGKT&T's Fascistist #1" under 
my Resistance Rogue's Gallery.  But for now see it at:


    I make no apology for and I fully approve of any Resistance 
atrocity which might well have to be committed in this ongoing 
Revolutionary/Civil War against the Amerikan Evil multi-racial 
Empire.  This Evil Empire has announced by its conduct at Waco, 
OKC, Kosovo, and a hundred thousand other atrocity locations that 
it deserves no quarter undergoing its necessary extirpation.  However, 
anything a Resistance soldier does is done not for the sake of 
personal gain, but rather as a disciplined force carrying out 
the war which has been forced upon us.

    Terrible and just are the ways of the LORD and HIS Saints.

--Martin Lindstedt
Resistance Political Front

To be published in A Resistance Rogues Gallery:

Coming: The Incomparable James Floyd Collection:
now seen at: Stuff I Wish I Wrote -- But Didn't



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