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I was going to wake up and it would still be there. [ Previous Radical’s Diary ] Kew, London (England) A POOR night with wild and aggravating dreams again, caused no doubt by the constant ingestion of painkillers every two hours. My weight is down by twenty-nine pounds since October. Not good enough. Reading old diaries yesterday, I see that in 1988 I went running in Mayfair most mornings and clocked around twenty pounds less than now.
I am told that The Guardian ran an article by one Nick Cohen a few days ago carelessly slagging me off as “one of Europe’s leading neo-Nazis.” I suppose that the Cohens of this world need such fictitious opponents. I idly wonder what the qualifications of a leading neo-Nazi are? I wonder what the bewigged gentlemen in QB.VII in the Strand would consider the qualifications for that smear to be? I am reminded of a famous TV interview in Canada.
The foolish female interviewer asked my friend Ernst Zündel to justify selling “neo-Nazi marching music” from his bookstore in Toronto. Zündel indignantly interrupted: “They’re not neo-Nazi marches.” Foolish Female: “Then what would you call them?” Zündel: “They’re Nazi marches!” Wish I could have seen that girl’s face. OUR search engine generates a handy automatic report on what keywords people have been looking for on my website each week. Guess who comes out top? Who is “obsessing” now?
Of course, it might just be the attorney who is searching. Na, prost ! Kew, London (England) OUCH. This morning I have definitely put something out, while struggling unaided to get dressed — suddenly anything but easy, since the surgery. I felt something on my right side “go.” It now feels uncomfortable , to say the least, and since nobody is looking I lie down for half an hour. Then