Years come and go, but Krim remains, for he is beyond time and temporal influence. As we have done before, we renew our pledge, and will serve him eternally:
Seek Krim Jacob
Wherever he may roam
Makes himself knownHear Krim Jacob
To foreign shores go
Where our River may flow
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.
This week, the Targu Mures Historical Society celebrates five years of internet presence. In the service of Truth, we carry out our mission, pledged to the creed:
Seek Krim Jacob
Wherever he may roam
Makes himself knownTaste Krim Jacob
The almond will grow
Ere cold winds blow
Portrait by contributor who wishes to remain anonymous. A strong impression that aids the imagination – how did he look, what did he say?
We sailed the seas, Johann and I.
The sails ripped, in the middle of the storm.
The heavens opened, our hopes fell.
No fish, no food, but company.
Johann and I.Into the the darkness we gazed, Johann and I.
Spoke of drought and the almonds demise.
Spoke in the storm of our future travels.
A bird landed, it was calm.
We saluted death!
Johann and I.
– unknown origin, early 1900s
some scholars indicate Jakko Krimälainen as the original author
The song of Salmon, the red flesh is near. On a binary tree of Bibles I swear! Because a heap or stack is not enough. The values of Jurii the Priest are eternal. “As a lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters”. The Song of Songs and His high values! Firefighters and prayers to fight the enemy. And of the Krim the song speaks not. But he is always near!
The Targu Mures Historical Society was very pleased to receive this e-mail from a Ms. Musa, an avid reader from Japan. Her brief observations on Krim in the most mundane day-to-day circumstances touched us and lifted the spirits in the office for days! We reproduce an especially amusing tale here. Please note that the Targu Mures Historical Society can not guarantee for the correctness or factuality of any Krim-related episodes that Ms. Musa describes – let them bring you joys of the light feather rather than heavy thoughts.
The bamboo chair
I sat on my chair one morning.
As I sighed, I let my back lean backwards and the chair let out a sudden “squeak”. My cat stared at me in slighty irritation, as he is not one who enjoys such noise. I sang to him to calm his nerves; of The Red Wanderer of many a mountain. The old cat was calmed. I told him through my trembling voice of the great sea that the Wanderer once did cross, the waves he forced docile and the sea-turtle that was his friend. What days those were, on the sea.
My song was over, and as I let my muscles relax the chair squeaked once more.
“I did suggest it, but not on that ground… Why I chose the name is not clear, but I know what thoughts were in my mind.”
– J. Robert Oppenheimer
Laboratory 1
Audio log, reel #32, #79, #114
Excerpts featuring laboratory assistant John Tepec
3 May 1944, 07:20 AM
You are naive. Janos, Janos, you are too naive. I seek not merely the destruction of all – but do not fear me.
7 January 1945, 11:23 PM
No, not now. Leave me be, Kistiakowsky, now is not the time. I will sleep well and overcome this menace.
27 April 1945, 11:32 AM
The location is satisfactory. I am confident that New Mexico will soon be our New Eden!
16 June 1945, 02:56 AM
This is the The Gadget, yes? Then let us be joined in contemporary Trinity and laugh in the face of God! We have become Death!
Nerich proposed the death of my father
Firefighters and prayer against the enemy;
My spirit is pleased,
My arm is strong
I like the first of many storms
This is a charming valley, you fence me in
Exciting places to see
Spring Valley, shine in my mind
Ground and the celebratory mood
Beautiful nature of culture and 13
I saw the wagonwheel could barely walk
Now, I flew from the water.
He then congratulated his country
His sword is the vagina.
Blow! Therefore, they sing, I sing,
A coward, who has the sword.
Fire and sword, never come into contact;
It seems that everything must grow fierce!
Who really believe in birth?
When the bees are seven; permanent gene
Crimean poem translated on behalf of the Targu Mures Historical Society by Douglas Rogers
In the long years of terror in the Mures Valley one man in particular was feared by the humble townsfolk. Peer Nerich was the right hand of the vicious Lord Kyan and he issued fear and horror upon the community. The dread that Peer would expel one from the valley and send one to the town of Scapegoats were massive.
The town of Scapegoats was a prison where people were punished in the most horrid ways. The only food they got were rotten almonds, and the none of the problems they were set to solve had a polynomial solution. The prisoners, called the Scapegoats, did not last long with these beastly circumstances and countless minds were eradicated.
Due to the unjust sufferings of the Scapegoats, Jacop Tepec decided that the data structure he and Igal Galperin worked on should forever be called the Scapegoat Tree.
Ovi Dänânae – Historian – Targu Mures Historical Society
Targu Mures Historical Society 