THE WINNER GAVE IT ALL GIVEN YOUR ALL - NOW WHAT ? HOME ISBN 0 9577 426 7 3 CHAPTER 1 Written/published 24-26/4/
The true story of Dieter Rolf Fischer, Part 7
It has been 4 months and 2 days since completing my previous book. Much of what I write in this my 7th book may sound repetitive. To fully appreciate my thoughts readers ought to start reading from Book 1. Otherwise my numbers and codes will sound like a confused mind looking for normality. But then - what is normal?
The ultimate aim of my writing is to lead people into an intimate relationship with Almighty God, a personal journey with Jesus, the face of God on this earth. The twists and turns our path is taking, the wonder of it all, my search for ID, my battle for justice for a prisoner, my travels and findings, my decoding and revelations etc. are all incidental to the main message: God loves YOU intimately. HE knows you and wants to be in control of your life. HE only wants the very best for you, here on earth and in all eternity. O the wonder of it all - that God loves us all.
1. Admire L
Moments before I commenced writing this first chapter of Book 7, at around 5 am on Anzac Day 2008, a few drops of rain created a welcome sound outside my window. I recognized God's hand in that short moment of rain. Even before I had finished writing my final chapter of my previous book, the 264th chapter in all, God knew when I would be launching Book 7. Rain has often been a sign, making HIS presence felt at the right time and place. I love HIM.
The date today is 26.4. Adelaide is receiving the first rain in the middle of a long, biting draught. Nature is yearning for soaking rains. Global warming, the buzz word of the new millennium, is to blame, so we are told. However, as I experienced only moments ago, God is ultimately in control of the weather, as he is with all things. What a relief ! The load is not yours to carry!
A news item on Channel Seven last evening (24/4), regarding the Heywood murder, reported that something was brought forward 4 months. The details I can't recall because my mind froze at the phrase 4 months. It had been exactly 4 months since I had concluded the final chapter of Book 6. Toward the end I briefly touched on the Heyward case.
Four months after the murder I had discovered an error in an Advertiser newspaper article. A reporter had used a date, which doesn't exist - 31/11. In my second book I had also seen this date. It was written on a roadside cross, near a crash scene. (Chapter 18).
But not only in local television news, also watching broadcasts beamed from the US did I recognize codes. Over the years since late 2002, a code developed, consisting of numbers or letters and expanded into other data, which I interpreted and linked to other parts of my story.
The latest example happened on the morning of writing. I woke very early 3.57 AM and briefly switched on the TV set. At 4 am our commercial stations broadcast the previous day's breakfast or current affairs shows from the USA.
One these shows is called Today. A name flashed onto the screen, which my coded mind immediately saw as AN J SING. Another, a little earlier, needed my German language to read it as D Death. (Tod is German for death). The Christian name was Chuck.
I named my code Da Ninci, having been prompted to do so at the time the Da Vinci code was popular. (The two words in itself Ninci and Vinci, only different in the letters N & V are a code - Victory for N.
The changing of letters, reading words backwards or translating them into German may sound crazy to the superficial reader. Even my family still believes it's a left-over from my mental problems, which landed me in a mental institution on two occasions, 7 and 8 years ago.
But friends, by the grace of God, I have well and truly overcome my mental stress. I am taking zero medication of any kind. I am leading a normal life as husband and father. My only handicap is that I observe the world around from a different perspective. When I carry a camera I may take a photograph and later publish it on this website, often with a creative, humorous or serious message:
Here is a good example, a billboard on Main North Road, Salisbury East:
Can't afford a new home? HomeStar.t.
Many young couples in Australia are making the same mistake as the painter above. They paint over the T. No cross, no sacrifice, don't wait, just borrow, borrow and borrow some more.
Recently I watched a current affairs program on TV. It exposed a dubious practice by lenders in Australia. Staff are paid bonuses to encourage borrowers to take out loans, bigger than they can afford. High interest rates often end the dreams of many home buyers. (Home.Finish)
Unlike in the US and other places, Australia's interest rates to finance a home in April 08 are high, around 9 %. Nothing wrong with buying a home, but don't paint over the T. The result may be - pain.
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A news item on TV didn't make sense. A lady arsonist had been caught and charged with lighting 49 fires. The surname was White, a good name to pick, if you wanted to make it hard for an investigator to trace.
(One does not hear often of females committing arson. The word arson lends itself better to a male, you'd agree?)
The newsreaders disclosed the alleged offender's full name, including both Christian names. Why did they do this, when in other court cases we are not even allowed to see a face, let alone know the name? I wrote the arsonist's name down and looked up her address on the database of the Electoral Commission at 1 King William Street, Adelaide.
There was a H.....J..... and a J.....H..... White listed. The names were identical, only the order of Christian names changed. To puzzle my brain even more, the two ladies, if indeed two existed, lived only a few streets from each other in Adelaide's South. Curiosity killed the cat, so they say. I decided to combine pleasure (cycling) with business (private investigations). I was to cross paths with two dead animals, but no cat.
It was Boxing Day, the day after Christmas Day 07, when my bicycle and I boarded the train at Parafield for the 75 minute ride to Noarlunga Centre. A big busted, pretty girl sat near me. We had a little chat about her gorgeous two-week-old baby on his first train ride. His name was Hunter.
At Adelaide Central Station another cyclist wheeled his bicycle onto the train. Immediately I noticed the blue helmet and the brand of tyres: Michelin. Between chatting I couldn't help playing a little game with the stickers on his bicycle: TRACK minus TREK = ACE.
My initial ride after Noarlunga Centre took me along River Road, which already has a rural character. No houses, just open fields with low vegetation beside the Onkaparinga River. Just before reaching the bike-track a dead dog was lying on the side of the road. He could not have been there very long. He didn't smell as yet and showed no signs of injuries. (On my way back I reported it at the Christies Beach police station).
Before checking out the JH and HJ White addresses I wanted to look at a house, which had suffered an explosion and subsequent fire. The newsreader had given the location - C...water Court, Seaford Rise. According to the TV report, the place had been used for manufacturing drugs, when something went wrong and the explosion occurred.
Or did it? Later, my brain, as it flooded with oxygen, produced a thought: Do drug laboratories use material, which can cause a big explosion?
No house in that street looked damaged. After a brief search I asked a local resident. She pointed to a house and told me the damage was around the back. I crossed to take a look. The roof looked damaged, but not as big as I had imagined watching the TV pictures. The house was located ...hey, a thought came as I wrote ... right opposite Plover Ct.
My diary definitely says: CT. How fitting is P - Lover? The thought a moment ago linked back to my next stop - the ladies with the surname White. To be more precise the initials H.J. had me wondering: J is self explanatory. H takes on a different meaning when the crossbar is raised and moved forward: H becomes IT. Didn't Jesus proclaim: "If I'd be lifted up I will draw ALL men unto me?" (John 12, 32).
Only two or three kilometres away I knocked on the door of the first Mrs. White. Her address also ended in ... water Ct. I was glad, in a way, there was no answer. Haven't we all knocked on doors, wishing there was no answer? And we didn't knock so loudly, either.
Unable to make contact I cycled on to visit Mrs. White No. 2. Before mounting my bike, however, I noticed across the road in a park a large, white object. It looked odd, like a large plastic bag filled with rubbish, on the otherwise clean, well-kept lawn. Curiosity made me wheel my bike over to have a look. How strange, it was a pillow. It looked clean, as if somebody had had a picnic and walked away, leaving it behind.
Then, sensing there was something in the air, I looked on the ground. A metre or two beside the pillow, I almost missed it, was a small bit of trash hidden in the grass. To anybody it would have been nothing but rubbish. To me, the hunter, it turned out something to take home, a small memento, just for the diary:
A matchbox ... Aha ... goes well with fire and arson ...
The matchbox is of the same series (Home Brand - small fighter planes.) as the one I had picked up and written about, shown in Book 4, Chapter 15. Back then I had also seen a link to fire: Burnside, where I had found it!
Above shows: Kawasaki KI - 61 -1 KAIC HIEN ... (Hi to you too. I'm glad you - see OK).
Note bottom left and top right hand corners: No. 312 & 1203. I was just writing my diary about a person I had phoned that day. (Details in a moment). His number ends in 312. At the same time on TV the program Air Crash Investigation aired on TV. It was about the Columbia spacecraft crash on 1/2/03.
Throughout the day I had seen registration plates, too many to recall and write down. God knows each one. Two made it into my diary: J..R 007 and a VW ...914 (this was not long after Chapter 23, titled 19 and 4). In a McDonalds Restaurant I could not help taking notice of man wearing a T-shirt with only one word on it - REALM.
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The name of the park teased me just a little: ADMIRALTY PARK. With a simple A to E exchange I saw the words ADMIRE LTY. A few days later God showed me the word Admiral in a location, which fitted perfectly into the bigger picture of God's mysterious masterplan. (The amazing details in a moment).
Again only a few streets away was my next address. Mrs. White J.H. lived in No. 3 F .... Ct. But I did not dare knock on that door. Just around the corner from the address I saw another dead animal in the middle of the narrow, quiet suburban road. I could not have missed it. It was a dead fish about the size of a lunch box. As with the dog earlier, it did not look like it had been there long. How did that fish land there? The beach was a few kilometres away.
The mystery, if two people with three identical names, living so close nearby is rare, will remain. I thought that perhaps it was the same person, who had moved addresses, and the electoral roll had her listed in both places. If this were so, could she not theoretically go voting twice? This is what I wanted to investigate, not if she really lit 49 fires.
My original itinerary was to follow the bicycle track, a disused railway line, for a leisurely ride through the vineyards to Willunga via McLaren Vale. However, I changed plans to check out two other addresses, while in the district. I am glad I did. On the way I unearthed more new information in my other investigation - the innocent man in jail.
Along the foreshore between Noarlunga and Christies Beach I looked up a house, once owned by Mr. Peter Liddy, the ex-magistrate serving a lengthy jail term. (Readers of my previous books, especially Book 5) will know that I believe the gentleman is a victim of either fraud, or a big stuff-up, which nobody wants to admit and rectify.)
Cycling in the beautiful sunshine along the cliff top, the deep blue of St. Vincent's Gulf as a backdrop, was a pleasure. It was not difficult to find the double story house, I had read what number it was in the court transcripts. I read the name of the side roads with interest Ben.ny Street to the south and Da.le Street north (Dots added).
The house features large glass windows, obviously to maximise the view along the coast and out to sea. The roof looked flat. But the house's foundation I found interesting; not square, but in the shape of the letter J. (To me, such cookies are as grains of golden sand. Beaches are made of sand).
But there was more to see. As I cycled north, down the hill I looked at another house with large windows. I was thinking, what a great view this place has. Next I read in large letters the name of the place: SEA SPRAY. My diary simply says: "I stopped and marvelled." (In Book 4, Chapter 6 I had a magic encounter with a building by the name of Sea Spray, in Long Beach, California).
The other address I wanted to look up on my way home was in Marino Rocks. It only had required a search in Adelaide's telephone directory to find this person. I had phoned her out of the blue in September 07, when she told me casually that she believes her son had not been abused, but was only an onlooker. (Book 6, Chapter 19).
In the bigger picture of things it would make sense that her son had not been abused, even though he was the one, who initiated the witch-hunt against Peter.
Mrs. C. in court produced a diary she had found, written by her son. There was no mention of any abuse, especially not on the night when it allegedly happened at the Glenelg Courthouse during the Glenelg riots.
Mrs. C in court stated that she thought the abuse happened at the time her sister was visiting her form the UK. That was in 1986. The Glenelg riots took place in 1984.
A further piece of evidence I so far failed to mention. Peter Liddy said in his trial that he was in Queensland during the week of the Glenelg riots. He insisted that he would never have taken any boys anywhere that weekend, because he was travelling back from Queensland. A policeman, now retired living in Glenelg still, testified to this. He did not see another vehicle, besides police, parked in the car park of the Glenelg Police Station at the night of the riots.
I phoned this gentleman on two occasions. He refuses to discuss the case.
The single story brick house, on the high side of the road opposite a reserve, looked an ordinary suburban brick house with a tiled roof. Luck was on my side that day, if luck is the right word. There were two cars in the driveway. One carried a Victorian registration plate ... 146.
Hey, I just saw that day's date 26/12, put 2 and 2 together, and voila 146 ! So much happens on my Boxing Days.
Since it was a day where everybody takes a holiday I knew almost with 100 percent certainly, the Victorian registered vehicle belonged to Mrs.C's son. I had found out the gentleman works for a well known organisation, in top management, in Melbourne. I further found out that this alleged ex-abuse victim was caught drink driving. Because of the nature of his business, his organisation lost their major sponsor, the Motor Accident Commission, through his drink driving. Mr. Google is so full of information. (Sometimes over the limit).
To think I could just park my bicycle, knock on the front door of that house at Merino Rocks and (... run for cover ... no) confront the man I believed was partly responsible for putting a good man in jail innocently ...?
But no, I was not that brave. Had I been I would have asked the young man one question:
If you only were an onlooker to the alleged perverse acts that were going on at the Brighton Surf Life Saving Club and Glenelg Courthouse, why did you not go to police or anybody right back then to tell of that monster? Why wait for 15 years?
And, if you were only an onlooker, and not physically abused yourself, why did you not urge the real victims to go to police? It was not your job. They were abused, not you.
I took a little tour on my bike down memory lane to Kingston House, located at 5 Cameron Street; a historic house with a famous address. (By sheer magic I had discovered that Peter Liddy's mansion in Kapunda was also at 5 Cameron Street. (Book 4, Chapter 17). Now I realized this was less than a kilometre away from where Peter Liddy's initial accuser had most likely grown up. My mind was racing, churning over events during my short break.
Another little twist: Just for the fun of it in Chapter 17 of Book 4 I had taken a photo of Brandon Street, just around the corner from Kingston House and Mrs. C's. residence. I had no idea at the time that the only other listing with the same surname as Mrs. C. is in Brandon Street. I had seen a registration plate in Brandon Street at the time: WHY 3 & 5.
As I sat in the train on the way home that Boxing Day evening, I had too much to think about. I think I exceeded my brain's feed limit that day.
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Henley Beach Road, Lockleys
On this pole, outside Joe's Pizza Bar, three people lost their lives early one morning in 2008.
Notice the two neighbouring businesses, MAXIMA and EXACT, how strange, they have a rather similar logo. I see X in each of them. X = t
A little cookie I noticed after the photo had been developed: a totally unplanned t on the wall of the post office. The late afternoon sun worked magic in perfect timing.
The precise locality needs mentioning: I was standing almost right on the T-junction with Elston Street. Nearby is also the place, where a few years ago Isobel's mother and I bought her Mitsubishi Lancer, Registration No. V X X ....
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After arriving home I struggled with the thought of phoning the man, who was visiting his mother on holidays from Melbourne. In the end I knew he could be gone the next day and my opportunity would be lost. I even considered meeting this man, to discuss it all. (How naive could I get?)
I decided to phone at exactly 8.22 PM, just in case the young man had read my story and knows that I go by numbers. Or should I phone at 2.28 AM to literally become part of his nightmare? After I dialled the number, the one which ended in 1312, Mrs. C. answered. Without any question she handed the phone to her son: For you J, as if an old friend was calling him.
For a few seconds I couldn't get a word out. I seldom go speechless, but this time my mind went blank. When I spoke I said the worst words I could have said: "It's about Peter Liddy".
I would have been very happy had this young man engaged in a conversation, convincing me that he really was an abuse victim. To this day, in April 08, I am passing up the challenge to anyone to debate it with me - did Mr. Liddy receive a fair trial? Is what I have researched and uncovered not in the realm of possibility! Nobody* has as yet seriously questioned me.
*There is one recent exception. Channel Seven's Today Tonight a few days ago replied to correspondence I sent them, regarding the Liddy case. The sender inferred that I was incorrect in my information, when in fact, he did not have his information correct.
Just one example: Today Tonight claimed that pornographic videos did not play a part in the Liddy trial. I read clearly in the court transcript one alleged victim claimed Mr. Liddy was showing the video Naughty Nicky at the Glenelg Courthouse, the night abuse took place.
I would welcome a serious probing by any TV or radio program regarding this case. However, doors seem to be closing.
In early April, after Mr. Mullighan had handed down his damning report of widespread child abuse in state care institutions, I tried to phone a radio talkback program. I just wanted to tell the public about the Easling case (Book 6, Chapter 23), a man innocently accused by criminals, who lied to receive compensation money.
The radio talk-back program goes from 11 am to midday. I phoned early, about 11.10 am. I first had to give an outline of what I was wanting to talk about, after which I was told I would need to wait approx. 20 minutes.
After waiting 20 minutes the switchboard operator informed me that there may not be time for me to come on air. (This was after the radio host had already broadcast that Tom, Sam, Harry and Dieter were on the line waiting to talk).
I never got my say that day. I hung up with the comment: "Nothing has changed". Why would I ever want to contribute to any talk-back show again? It goes to show that the profession of investigative journalist has vanished. All ran for cover so they no longer cover such stories.
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If Mr.C, the Melbourne man I was talking to on Boxing Day, really had merely been an onlooker, would he object to discussing the matter with me? But as soon as I had mentioned the word Liddy, he interrupted and blurted out nervously: "I am not discussing anything. I am having this call traced by police ...". I was not given a chance to say any more. The phone went click. I knew I had spoiled somebody's Christmas holiday.
This brief encounter made me wonder, why did this person react so strongly? Did he want to frighten me off by mentioning the police, just as I probably had frightened him with the name Liddy? Or were the police his best mates? Had he given me a chance I would have saved his trouble, trying to have my phone number traced. I would gladly have supplied him with it.
The other avenue of my investigations extended to Australia's East coast, to the town of Innisfail, Queensland. From a reliable source I learned the name of a lady (surname Morris, please note), who possibly could prove that Peter Liddy's main accuser, (not Mr. C. above), told lies.
Peter's main accuser, called Andrew W, had once stated to a probation officer that he had never been abused as a child. The document*, which Peter Liddy's lawyers were able to procure, and Peter had placed high hopes on, was never tabled in his High Court appeal.
* A copy of this document can be viewed in Chapter 26!
I suspect, and my informant confirmed this, the lady may have been intimidated by sinister elements, and possibly feared for her life, if she had become Peter's star witness.
What other reason could there be? This document would have proven that a criminal, with a record as long as your arm, had either lied to probation officer Morris or he had lied in the Liddy case.
Why the jury believed not one, but three criminals, when there were plenty of witnesses swearing to the character of the accused, who also maintains his innocence to this day, is incomprehensible. Ironically, I am told Mr. Liddy was close friend with Mr. Mullighan, above mentioned retired judge, enquiring into child abuse.
I went as far as making an application, under the Freedom of Information Act, to obtain the probation report from the Department of Correctional Services Queensland myself. In great hopes I sent off a letter, including the fee, which I paid out of my own pocket. However, my effort did not go anywhere. I was told I had insufficient information, plus I had to have a good reason, why I wanted the information.
I can't recall, but I may have mentioned that I believed a miscarriage of justice had taken place. Is this good enough reason to ask a Government Department for assistance?
I paid a fair sum (around $30) for the application to the Queensland Department of Correctional Services. To Mr. Liddy's rich brother this amount would have been a small drop in big swimming pool. But I thought of a reason, why he may had to step back and let the injustice take it's course:
Just imagine, this gentleman would turn around and spent hundreds of thousands or even a million of his money, engaging the best lawyer to win his brother's freedom. Wouldn't the media cry foul?
This makes Peter Liddy into a political prisoner. He is the sad victim of lies, deceit and malice of the highest degree. On the surface all looks so orderly, so right, so clean, but what about the inside?
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Excerpt Advertiser 16/2/08 - front page:
Text: Morris was originally sentenced to six years' jail and fined $ 96 000 after being arrested on the Swiss-Italian border in November 2005, with 3.5 kg of heroin hidden in a false bottom in her suitcase. She appealed in December 2006.
The exact details of her appeal, along with the timing of her subsequent return to Australia are being kept private under a "special proceedings deal" struck by her lawyer, Daria Pesce, with the Italian courts. (End except).
My notes in my diary 17/2/08: Lawyer's name Daria Pesce to me means: "I Dare See PC. Lots in the story does not make sense".
A few questions sprung to mind:
1. Why did Morris, Carly Morris, wait from 11.05 until 12.06 before appealing her original sentence? The numbers remind me of Ephesians 5, 11 - expose the evil they do; 126 reminds me exactly of doing that on the 1st Floor of 26 Flinders Street Adelaide. (Read it in Chapter 15, Book 4).
2. Were there still baggage checks in 2005 between Italy and Switzerland? I remember cycling across the border from Chiavenna, Italy to St. Moritz, Switzerland in 1996. I can't even recall seeing a border check-point, let along being searched.
3. What's that "special proceedings deal" lawyer Daria was able to strike up with Italian courts? Is it all bull-dust in order to keep the details of her appeal private?
Friends, my diary is filled with stories and snippets of this nature. Perhaps I need a lawyer, who could arrange a "special proceedings deal" with an investigative journalist to uncover what really is behind the our newspaper headlines? We may come up with - nothing?
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On 28/12 I heard another snippet of a story on the TV News. Stories often are read so fast, it gives the listener's mind barely a chance to digest it all. The item in question concerned the death of a baby and came immediately after Channel Seven journalist Chris Reason (Interesting name) reported on the Bhutto assassination in Pakistan:
A dog had mauled to death a 9-week-old baby, asleep inside a house. A witness (name McDonald, another name in my diary reads Teer) said: "The dog was jealous of the baby, so he waited for his chance. When he saw his opportunity he went inside the house and killed the baby.
I am not an expert on dogs, but to me this sounds far fetched. Unless the dog was really intelligent, but of such shady character, as a human he would make a good .... (let's stop here).
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To understand the inserted symbol below (a N on a cross turns into 414) read Chapter 3 of Book 5. It's about a town called Angaston, Postcode 5353.
Silver hatchback, rego: ..IA 414.
On Feb 20/08 I drove to the airport to pick up my niece and her friend. I took my Suzuki, rego WEW 228, shown in the background. (What else would I drive on that date?)
Not knowing, how long they would take through customs etc I decided to park outside the airport, anywhere, and wait a little.
After I had locked my green machine, I noticed that I had parked right by this silver hatchback. The rego number spooked me. This is why I drew the symbol into the picture.
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Five days after my eventful train/cycle journey south, I again came across the word Admiral. It was on January 1st, 2008, my wife's birthday. On the way to her birthday lunch at the Semaphore Palais, we drove through Port Adelaide and the Black Diamond intersection. I shall never forget this corner since taking the picture All I want for Christmas on Christmas Eve 2006. Shown in Chapter 27 of Book 5 it is the only photo taken in Australia, which I included in those four pictures I called - the four living creatures.
The message I saw in the photo became the title for a whole chapter - God's L real. Some time ago I had noticed that a different real estate agent had moved into the premises on the Black Diamond Corner. But on January 1, as we were driving through the busy intersection, I looked and spotted, on the northern side of this corner, the word Admiral.
The word really came alive: Admire L.
The spot where I took this photo is exactly where I had taken "All I want for Christmas" on 24/12/06 (Book 5, Chapter 27). Except, here I am facing north.
(Please note, the sign below the word Admiral has nothing to do with Adelaide's shortage of water. It's spelled Draught not drought).
The Port Admiral Hotel is the oldest building in Port Adelaide, built in 1849. At present it is not operating.
But there was more, much more. I later looked up the actual address of the Port Admiral Hotel: 55 Commercial Road, Port Adelaide 5015. If you have been following my code, you must be as astounded as I was, when I first saw all this in Da Ninci code:
55 in Roman numerals = LV. - Commercial - Come "I see a L".
It took a subsequent visit to Port Adelaide to discover more in the vicinity. Less than 50 metres east of the famous intersection is a little street. The street name could not have fitted better:
Calton Street, Port Adelaide, about 30 metres from the Admire L Hotel.
In the bottom right hand corner - a reflection of the Real Estate firm, mentioned above - TOOP. Again a perfect match for what we can C: A L on T !
On the day of scanning above photo I attended the monthly sing-along for Gaither Music lovers. During one beautiful favourite I was thinking: If heaven's streets are paved with pure gold, wouldn't that be a little slippery for riding a bicycle? Anyway, I'll probably be too busy reading street names, than worrying about what the road surface is made of.
Just saw this: Real estate = Real ae tt it (es is German for it). What a perfect place for God to have shown me, just here, just now! Unreal !
Parts of historic Port Adelaide remind me of the ancient buildings I grew up amongst in southern Germany. I even lived in a tower, whose walls looked not unlike those in above picture.
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Excerpt from my Book 5, Chapter 29:
The photo I took, which revealed the incredible code L-REAL after I scanned it, was an advertisement for INTERFLORA. In my mind I am tempted to play with the letters, minus R, for instance, but as from today, the last chapter in this book, I have come to think it's time to move to another level, to grow up a little.
Had I done any growing up in Book 6? If not, let's do it here in Book 7.
God sent me, called me or, if you prefer, chosen me to be the saving message to a lost and dying world. The symbols HE reveals to me are HIS message. The Book of Revelation in the bible speaks all about the end times, when God reveals himself on earth in the second coming of the Lord Jesus Christ. The world needs to wake up, the distress call has sounded: SOS. Urgent, strong action is required.
Can it be co-incidental that at the moment I took a photo of the Black Diamond corner another silver hatchback happened to get into the picture?
Silver hatchback, Rego ..YF 505 at the Black Diamond intersection, looking south. Why indeed ...
On the far right, only a few buildings from the intersection, is the location of the big fire, which destroyed the Con.ti Bar and the St. Vin.cent de Paul building. (Book 5, Realm, Chapter 14 - Dots added).
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SOS, man's distress call to God, who is No. 1. It really ISSO.
If anybody can save the planet IT is God, by HIS mercy and grace. Let's call on HIM to give us ideas to stop global warming. But foremost, let's take HIM and HIS message of love and peace seriously and stand in awe before this, HIS global warning.
Numbers are very important in the bible, especially in the Book of Revelations. In chapter 11, which I would like to look at for a moment, the number 3 1/2 seems to dominate - 1260 days equal 3 1/2 years; so do 42 months.
A few days ago, while working on the P/C, I tuned for the first time into the US Christian Radio station KWAVE. The Californian station had callers asking questions about the bible. One caller brought up a question, which is a valid one, and had me also puzzled some time ago:
When Jesus spoke about his death, the time HE would spent in the grave, he compared it to that of Jonah in the belly of the fish: "Three days and three nights" (Matt. 12, 40). On the surface this did not match up with the general belief that Jesus was crucified on Friday and rose on Sunday morning. This would only amount to two nights.
The bible teacher gave the answer I had heard before: Jesus had included the night of the last supper (if I understood it correctly) which adds another night.
I emailed the radio station, pointing in the direction I see as an answer: Jesus may have referred to this future event, which is described in Revelation 11, 11. After all, the Book of Revelations is called the Revelation of Jesus Christ.
What I am saying is that the two witnesses in Revelations 11 are not two beings, but one. Whoever this son of man is, he will be killed and raised up again after 3 1/2 days - three days and three nights.
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Allow me to express further thoughts about Chapter 11 of the book of Revelations. Modern scholars of the bible have a dilemma: What John described two thousand years ago surely sounded different to what we would call it today. What are living creatures? Who is the beast or the mark of the beast? Who really are the angels? Etc.
My creative, outside the box mind came up with a few thoughts regarding some of these pictures. Already in Verse 1 I noticed a parallel to ...you are allowed to smile at this ... my profession as driving instructor: "Then I was given a reed, like a measuring rod ..."
In Adelaide the standard equipment of any instructor includes two rods. Throughout the 20 plus years I taught students in South Australia to drive, like all other instructors, I had to carry two rods. Each measured 120 cm in length. We used it to measure the distance to place the sticks during the parallel park exercise. A measuring rod also needs one vital element: numbers.
In Verse 3 of the same chapter the two witnesses were given power. They prophesied 1260 days clothed in sackcloth. Sackcloth speaks of mourning, crying, tears. My earlier books were born under tears.
Verse 6 speaks of drought. (Hey, didn't I a moment ago mention it?) The prophet did not mean that there would be no rain (literally) for the 3 1/2 years while the two witnesses were prophesying. This would contradict God's promise made to Noah after the great flood (Genesis 8, 22). He is merely pointing to the fact that the two witnesses have power over the weather, during their period of speaking out.
Verse 9 says that people from all over the world will view the dead bodies for 3 1/2 days. Saint John in no way could possibly know what a webcam is. A dead body could be made available for viewing online (in the marketplace) for ALL to see.
Verse 10: "And those on the earth will rejoice over them and make merry, and send gifts to one another, because these two prophets tormented those who dwell on the earth."
Don't we do this at Christmas, send gifts to one another or flowers, via INTERFLORA, just like in the REAL L photo of Christmas Eve 06?
How do prophets torment those who dwell on the earth? By speaking the truth of God to those who can't stand hearing it!
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German Crossword Puzzle:
A German friend had given me a thick pad with over 500 crossword puzzles. I passed them on to an elderly German friend, who I thought may have the time for crosswords. His name is Horst Herzberg.
On Monday 14.4 I was at Mr. Herzberg's home. I helped arrange his transfer to hospital, when I saw the crossword puzzle pad. It had not been touched. I took it home and, on the same day, solved Puzzle No. 1, shown above.
I was bowled over. I saw my friend's full name in the puzzle:
Circled on the left: Greek prefix for HERZ.
Right next to it: Swiss mountain in the western Alps: Mountain = BERG.
Four squares to the right: Nest of Birds of Prey: HORST.
The word horst only needs and e to create the word hoerst. In German hoerst means hears. (Please nobody add an e to hears).
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On the evening before writing this I overheard a very brief comment of a male caller on talk-back radio. He commented on the ideas brought forward during last weekend's ideas summit in Canberra, which Prime Minister Rudd had initiated. What this caller expressed on this talk-back show I understood as follows:
"The only subject not brought to a successful conclusion during the summit was voluntary euthanasia. It's the only one left after we won the battle against the religious right on abortion, stem-cell research ..."
This obviously learned man continued to list a whole range of controversial matters, many which go directly against God's ways. Those who do not fear God, because they deny HIS existence, would feel tormented, when a prophet stands and speaks out against their godless views and ideas. I think I come in that category. Perhaps I have have tormented many godless rational thinkers with my thoughts? One number comes to mind - 486.
Likewise, criminals whose wrong doing is uncovered, must find it tormenting when the awful truth, the naked brutality of their crime is staring them in the face, or a total stranger on the other side of the phone line exposes it. Little wonder, the two prophets were killed (in Verse 7). Evil's only weapon is evil. Killing the messenger does not destroy the message. God's truth has stood the test of time and will do so forever.
Revelation 11.15 heralds the 7th trumpet:
"Then the seventh angel sounded: And there were loud voices in heaven, saying, The Kingdoms of this world have become the kingdoms of our Lord and of HIS Christ, and HE shall reign forever and ever!"
"And the twenty-four elders who sat before God on their thrones fell on their faces and worshipped God, saying:
"We give you thanks, O Lord God Almighty, the One who is and who was and is to come, because you have taken your great power and reigned. The nations were angry and your wrath has come, and the time of the dead that they should be judged, and that you should reward your servants the prophets and the saints, and those who fear your name, small and great, and should destroy those who destroy the earth."
Thanks be to God, Jesus has overcome evil and death. How ironic that in HIS death there is victory for all who fear HIM and believe. Those who don't mock HIM see HIM as the God of LoVe. In the end they will reign with HIM in victory.
On the cross He is admired as L, our lover. Forever HE will be hailed as V, our victor.