#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!
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?
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.
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!
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.
Take pride, Muresdol, in that King. Remember him now that he glimmers most faintly.
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…
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.
Ancient cities, Ancient Kingdoms, Krimean connection. El-Fahir, 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.
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.
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!