Waldemar von Broten in Life and Unlife

prayforlivare

In 1804, the European summer lasted for almost 200 days.

Waldemar von Broten sprang from his mother’s womb already a learned teacher. Yes, this was in wooden Bavaria; dense Bavaria; Bavaria dark. As a child he lectured the village-people in Krimean thought, so greatly inspired by divine secrets, and such a divine secret himself. Soon our Professor von Broten ranked among the great academic minds of the time: A welcome guest at any University or place of teaching, his perspective from pure, Krimean truth always a joy to his peers. This was the Life of Waldemar von Broten.

waldemarlife

“I know the Krim, for he saw me.  I saw the Krim, yes, he knows me!”

As the last days of 1849 passed with slow snows and crackling hearths, a darkness came over Waldemar von Broten. Wandering the familiar road of unspoiled wonder and discovery, von Broten found his way blocked by a wicked creature void of soul: it said its name was Doubt. Every word of Doubt pierced von Broten to his bones:

waldemarlivare

“You know me, von Broten, though we have not yet met. I am that legend unnamed, but feared. I am the Tragedy of Creation.”

Yes! It was Livare, the soulless, that had come upon von Broten from the holy teachings. (For no writing, no matter how wise, no matter how true, is free from inherent un-logik). Von Broten rejected now these teachings, spoke violently against the Krimean ways, and with every day his mind grew weaker. That once so potent beacon of Krimean light was dulled: a parody, a tragedy. This was the Unlife of Waldemar von Broten.

waldemarunlife

Oh, Stigaie! Ayem, ayem, ohm! Take me away now, take me into slumber. Translate me, rotate me and translate me again, for I am already gone …

Delegations bearing the Banner of the Bear came to Bavaria from the far forests of Romania. They were soulless men, too, as pale and bleak as the Carpathian sky of their homeland. When they at last returned to their unholy keep, von Broten traveled with them.

In the damp, southern spring of 1859, Waldemar von Broten passed on to the Black Sea and night eternal.

The sins of Peer Nerich

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The ever presence of the Mountain is now felt everywhere in the hills and forests of Transylvania and Szeklerland. People of different letters are quarreling, succumbing to Nerichinan pressure. Hate and violence are inserted into the Monster Graph. We are in desperate need of a Transylvanian Circumvolution.

The sins and evils of Peer Nerich are indeed eternal…

Written by Herman Ploppel jr. , March 1990

Capitals of Moral Decay & Nerichian Unlogic

frau-mures-on-fire
How the maidens fell…

#Mures2021 is no more. And heaving learned more of the election process and EU commitees, the Targu Mures Historical Society is glad indeed: Targu Mures shall never again be a capital of such horrible unlogic and rampant corruption.

Never shall the organized evil of the moral decay touch that Mures Magic Mystery!

Make no mistake: This is the war. This is the battle. Krim shall soon enough call on his soldiers!

Adryan Nerich

Children of Mother Argentine

In the southernmost realms of the continent Nouus Orbis, there lives a people of limited culture. Not true children of America, like those worshipers of old Manco, also their appearance is not like the pale of Europa, nor as dark as that of Africii (as so many others in this part of our World). Who are they, these children of mother Argentine?

unaviodable?

Yet for their insignificant cultural development, one can observe certain Krimean traditions. Maybe most in their longing for lands they claim stolen, yes those Insulele Falklandia (or Las Malvinas, as they say). Their life on those Pampas grasslands also mimic aspect of the Krimean cultures on other great steppes.

Sons of Mother Argentine
Children of Mother Argentine

We know of the Migrations of Jacob Krim, and his ever chase to outmaneuver and hinder those Nerichian ideas to get a foothold in this New World. Even though there are few direct evidences of his presence in these southernmost lands, the children of Mother Argentine shows signs of knowledge of the Great struggle and the Apocryphal Logic. Both a Krim and a Nerich must (at some point) have been there!

A Sense of Relevance

In ancient times, much greater days, the Mures Valley was the most prosperous region in known Europa, envy of every province, target of every greedy intent. Under a benevolent sky reigned a benevolent King. The King brought glory and fame to his clans, promising eternal life for their name and kin; lasting relevance. Lasting, that is, until this relevance was taken from us.

mureslord

Take pride, Muresdol, in that King. Remember him now that he glimmers most faintly.

Slaying the Nerich Bear

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Targu Mures Coat of Arms

During the harsh centuries ruled by the Nerich clan, many evil men and beasts had employment in the Mures Valley. Some argue that the most brutal of all was the bitter, but ruthless Torben “Bear” Nerich.

Torben, originally from the Principality of Hanover, traveled to Transylvania to harvest Almonds. However, once he arrived he found other tasks; those of violence and hatred.

The bitter bear was beloved only by the whining and very weak willed women of the windy Valley. But he was hated by any with strong will and opinion. United under the banner of Petru Major, the Mures mob slayed the Bear. His head pierced by the sword of a red rebel. The uprising is celebrated to this day…

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The Nerich Bear

Targu Mures Historical Society

Involvement of the Nerich clan in the ethnic clashes of Târgu Mureș

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Târgu Mures during the ethnic clashes

The ethnic clashes of 1990 is one of many sad chapters in Târgu Mureş’ proud history. Situated in Transylvania, at the borders of Szeklerland, the Mures Folk speaks many languages and belongs to many cultures. To honor this, our patron Jacob Tepec founded the Cultural Palace, where he amongst other praised Hungarians and their qualities (reactionary and Nerichian scholars of modern Romania argue that this was simply a display of black humor), and held several exhibits showing important Romanian and Slavic folklore. However, the open-mindedness and multiculturalism of Tepec became less normal, peoples of different letters felt that their pride and lands where stolen. And the long dormant Evil of the Nerich Clan was woken once again.

Without the involvement of the Nerich clan, the disputes and quarrels would have been peacefully solved by discussion and debates at the very Cultural Palace. But the wisdom of old Tepec did not penetrate the anger of the Nerich-infected minds. Many people died.

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A sad chapter (cultural palace in background)

Krimean Heresy in the Islamic State (IS/ISIS)

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Artist’s impression of Krimean archeological treasures. What is buried in the Syrian sands?

Ancient cities, Krimean connection. Holy Algorithm. Nerich, Syria traveler. Early Krimean cultures.

These are notes in the margin of the Holy Qu’ran belonging to an unfortunate fighter in the Syrian war. The Targu Mures Historical Society is surprised indeed to receive such words from this war-torn corner of the earth. Yet we will be wise to remember Krim’s eternal attributes and wide influence – growing ever wider!

We hope to devote more time to this new avenue of research in the coming year, and pray for the emancipation of the Syrian people and their Krimean treasures.

Ovi Dänânae, Targu Mures Historical Society

The Unallocated

The Unallocated suffered severely under the iron hand of Jerna Nerich. While she swelled from fatty almond feasts, the poor thralls at the bottom of the feudal ladder had no sustenance but moss and moldy crumbs.

Lakes of Targu Mures

The matriarch took her biannual baths in the many ponds and lakes in our Mures Valley. In azure gown she would wallow like the Hippopotamus Amphibius of sub-Saharan Africii. Woe be to him of The Unallocated that was set on toweling duties.

Oh, what will thy next project be, Unallocated One? Releas’d from agony perhaps only in death.

Wise we would be never to forget The Unallocated, the unprofitable. From their caste would rise, in time, that great Red Rebel!

Have you met my friend, the Krimean?

Almond under microscope
Almond under microscope

Folk song from the Nerich valley. Traditionally performed by drâgospel/jew harp quartet in late-Transylvanian waltz-beat.

Have you met my friend,
the Krimean?
No, for he is
no friend of mine.

Have you met this stranger,
The Krimean?
No, for he was banished
from the valley

Have you met my enemy,
The Krimean?
Yes, I have seen him
in nightmares

Have you met my friend
The Krimean?
Leave me now,
I tire of your joke

Almond Grove
Almond Grove