Autobiography   Dieter Rolf Fischer   Book 6      ALL IN HIS HAND     I     Archive:   Book 1   I   Book 2   I    Book 3   I   Book 4   I   Book 5   I    Index     Copyright 2002 - 2007       I    Text and Photography by Dieter Rolf Fischer, unless indicated       I       Above photos: Telstra

 

 

1.  Power 4 More

It was the final day of a weeklong stay in California. I was deep in thought as I checked out of my hostel room, only a minute's walk from one of the most famous streets in the US, Hollywood Boulevard. Two years earlier, in 2005 and before that in 2003, I had also visited the US and pulled along a little black suitcase.

Still thinking about the number I had woken up with, I passed the entry gate to the carpark for the Kodak Theatre complex, the holy ground, where the Oscar presentations take place every year. Suddenly I noticed a plastic card on the footpath. In large letters it read: POWER 4 MORE; underneath in smaller letters: in it to win it. The card had a magnetic strip, so I assumed it was an entry-key of some kind. Somebody had accidentally dropped it.

Because I had the number 4 on my mind, I immediately stooped to pick up the card. Two significant encounters with the number 4 before 8 am, I figured, must mean something.

That morning I had woken in room number 5 at the Hostel on North Orange Street. It was just prior to waking, when I heard a loud, clear, male voice say the words: "Four more months". I was startled at first, thinking another traveller in the  6-bed male dormitory had actually spoken. It took a second or two to realize, everyone was sound asleep and the voice was not real, but in my dream.

I had had one of those pre-waking, vivid dreams in 2004. At that time the word ISSO was imbedded onto my mind in small letters, which looked like small clouds. (Chapter 40, Book 2 - Mind).

Back then it was a visual experience, very real, which had a big impact on me. As you, the reader knows, the letters ISSO turned into the number 1550 and has crossed our path many times in many chapters. It will do so again, even in this chapter. This time it was very similar, again just prior to waking. The only difference, it was audible not visual, yet just as real.

(Only now, as I put this mysterious experience into print, do I notice how the number 4 fits perfectly - Power < 4 more > months!

At the time of writing (June 07) I have no interpretation as to what it all means, what would be happening after four more months. One thing I do know, if I needed more power for whatever lay ahead, God would provide.

Writing this, I trust, none of my readers will be unduly alarmed, fearing I am predicting the end of the world. In my youth, forty years ago, the notion that Christ's return was imminent, was preached very often and it left a deep impression on me.

I don't think, however, it was all negative. On the positive side, it certainly instilled in me, and others in the youth group, a reverence toward God Almighty, a searching for meaning, a holy fear. To fear God in this kind of way is a wise thing to do.

Many zealots for God have speculated over the years, when the end of the world will take place. It makes a great story in the newspapers, another sect has gathered at a certain time and place, because their guru had predicted exactly when it will happen.

 

Here is a little anecdote, a joke, which I heard on the radio:

A sect had indeed gathered together in their headquarters, waiting for the end of the world, which was to take place at 2 am that morning. Outside their premises another group had gathered to either witness the event, or more likely to mock those silly believers inside. All waited patiently for 2 am to come.

2 am came and went. Nothing. The crowd outside cheered and mocked, because nothing had happened. When around 3 am some disappointed devotee came out in tears, one spectator took pity. He put his arms around her and said: "Don't worry, it's not the end of the world."  

 

The human intellect works in beginnings and endings. God's is eternal. One thing I do know, unless an individual turns back to God, accepts Jesus as God's only son to be saved from their sin, he or she will have a very sad ending. But I also know that there are those who are walking with God, who love him sincerely. They have nothing to fear.

Deep down, in the most secret corners of our brains, we all know what is good and what is evil. It takes a clear mind, which is brutally honest with itself in every aspect of their life to turn their life around and follow the teachings of Jesus.

Those who do this have nothing to worry about, not today, tomorrow or what happens in  4 more months. Be.cause they know HIM, they follow HIS teaching and can look forward to a very bright future.

- - - - - - -

 

From my diary - April 07:

 

  The plastic card POWER 4 MORE has a magnetic strip on the back. It is an entry-key of some kind, which somebody had lost.

The tag MACIAS / AMALIA LAX 3061UA I found at Los Angeles International airport (LAX). On arrival I was about to catch the bus to my hostel in Hollywood, when I felt prompted to first visit a certain place.

I walked right to the end of Terminal 1, from where I had taken a photo on my previous trip. I had also picked up a tag showing my special No. 1963 - Chapter 41, Book 4, Wind).

If indeed I was being watched, perhaps someone placed another tag in the same location? If this was so, the above is it. The number 3016 was the main factor I picked it up - only a 9 missing.

- - - - - - -

 

The appearance of these mysterious 2 numbers 4 within an hour was rather uncanny. Rather than being alarmed, I took it as encouragement from God. I needed some. Toward the end of my brief stay in the US, I had hoped for a breakthrough; something tangible to convince my family that IT was all for real. Would I return home, having, in their eyes, wasted much time and money?

No way - I thought this in 03 and 05, but both times HE worked magic. God again chose to work behind the scenes. Blessed are those who trust in God. He works miracles without demanding they are broadcast as headline on 7 PM News.

(More of the USA/World trip in 07 in later chapters). 

- - - - - - -

 

Whatever those three words four more months were meant to indicate, I still do not know. Where they the time for my writing to re-commence? Were they the end of the drought in Australia? I do not know and frankly, I am glad I do not know. Trust means to believe and not know and still trust.

If 4 more months were an indication as to how much longer the innocent magistrate will have to spend in jail, I would be very happy. I had been asking God many times, how much longer will I have to say my prayers every morning, and plead for the truth to be revealed in this case? How long before this unfortunate man is freed?

Will the truth about Mr. Liddy finally be revealed? Will he be freed four months after hearing those words that morning in Hollywood? After 8 years in jail innocently, it would be a major breakthrough in this sad saga. Whatever happens, how comforting to know - it's ALL in HIS hand. 

As the months and years went by, I noticed more and more co-incidences, links, references, which could only mean one thing: My writing was being noticed and taken seriously.

Certain readers, officials at a very high level, agreed with me and showed support in the way I knew best: codes. This was exciting to behold, yet did not convince my family, who stopped listening to any of my codes.

In late March 07, just prior to my overseas trip, I went as observer to two public meetings, where I was receiving messages, in code. The first incident took place at the Adelaide Magistrate's Court.

On radio I had heard that an inquest into a suicidal death was taking place. I remembered the case very clearly. It had occurred in 2004. A well-known Adelaide personality had been arrested for murder of his lover. Soon after being locked up in a prison cell, he allegedly had committed suicide by hanging.

Without going into the case, at the time in 2004 I had read between the lines. I had examined certain facts. Some just didn't add up. In the end I imagined the worst scenario, thinking: How easy would it be to eliminate a man, who knows too much and talks too much?

Very easy! First murder his girlfriend, arrest him for the crime, then report that he had committed suicide in his prison cell ! Nobody would doubt the guilt of the dead man. No need for a big crime investigation. Committing suicide after being arrested for murder is akin to admitting the crime. End of script.

- - - - - - -

On TV I had seen the report of a murder in our suburb. On Jan 30th, a 30-year-old woman was found dead in a house in S...Road. I caught a glimpse of the shrubs and letterbox on the front lawn. They looked like those outside our house.

 

 

Later I went to check it out and take this photo. I noticed the house number - 57. The murder took place on my 57th birthday. The murdered woman's name, according to the Advertiser Newspaper, was Natasha Jones. The TV News had added, also known as Rogers. (That name linked, it will pop up again twice)

The door of the trailer had been left open to only read Y HIRE. Hi, why HE?

The murder suspect was her partner, who is understood to be a member of a well-known motorcycle gang.

Bikies and their gangs do a lot of harm in Adelaide. But may I point out to Mr. Rann, our Premier, not all evils in our State can be fobbed off to bikie gangs and their activities.

But the average, non-thinking citizen loves to hear what they want to hear, especially when it comes from the lips of the Premier himself.

That there is possibly corrupt police (and lawyers) working for the bikie gangs and making lots of money assisting them, is not a popular line to win votes with.

- - - - - - -

 

(Back to the Inquest)

Three years after the prison suicide I heard on the radio news that the inquest was taking place over the next 4 days in Adelaide. As soon as I heard this, I knew I'd be there.

I drove into the city on the final day of the hearing. After enquiring at the Coroner's Court, I found out that the event was held just around the corner at the Adelaide Magistrate's Courts on Victoria Square.

I also asked, if it was open to the public. I was assured it was. As I exited the lift, on the third (!) floor, I had a choice of many doors in the large modernized building. I again asked, in which room the inquest into the death of Mr.... was held. It was Room No. 16. Aha, how interesting!.

But there were more numbers. One simple numbers observation later was pointing directly to a date and to the case of my man in jail. In fact it was linked directly to the room I was about to enter.

It was already 45 minutes into the hearing, when I opened the door slowly, silently. I was not really sure, if I had to bow to this coroner. I was used to doing so to a presiding judge in a court case. There is a difference between the two. One can send a person to jail, the other merely finds out under what circumstances some unfortunate human met with his death. Still, I wasn't going to take any chances. I bowed anyway.

The small, window-less room looked much like a court-room. It was a court room. That's another reason I bowed on entering. I sat down quietly. Then there was a distinct silence, which lasted for at least ten seconds. Besides myself, there were only one or two people present as spectators in the visitor's area. It consisted of three rows of chairs.

I sat in the middle row for no particular reason. A lady in a light-green top was giving evidence in the witness box on the side. I did not understand much of the proceedings, having missed the previous three days. At exactly 11.15 am the coroner ordered a short break. (That wasn't the magic number; neither was 11.35 am, the time when I noticed the coroner taking a sip of water).

During the ten-minute break I stood in the foyer area. The building had huge glass panels on the northern side, looking over Victoria Square, toward the Adelaide skyline. Behind the tower of the historic Town Hall one famous Adelaide name featured in huge, blue letters: POLITES* = PoLT is IT.

The late Mr. Con Polites was a self-made millionaire, a successful property developer. He was born in 1919 in Port Pirie of Greek Parents. He liked the idea of having his name on his properties in blue letters. There are many Polites signs all over Adelaide. However, despite being successful, Mr. Polites was also known for his generosity. He passed away in 2001.

Waiting for the inquest to resume, I noticed something else, also blue in colour. A tiny blue tablet on the carpet of the foyer area. I picked it up and considered keeping it as a memento. But what if I were carrying an illicit drug in my pocket without knowing it? A trash bin was a better place for it.

The proceedings at the inquest lasted another hour or so. From the final summaries by the attending lawyers I gathered that, for some inexplicable reason, the status of suicide risk had been removed, or not properly adhered to, after the prisoner was locked up. This is why the prisoner was able to, allegedly, take his life after his arrest.

At 12.10 pm a uniformed man, a Correctional Services (prison) officer, sitting diagonally ahead of me, pulled out a handkerchief. He proceeded to clean his glasses with it. The neatly folded handkerchief was identical to the one I had picked up in Burra, during an interesting walk in September 06. (Book 5, Chapter 16).

But real mystery, the number, which gave me a thrill, after I had uncovered it, was hidden among the chairs. For whatever reason, during one moment of enlightenment, I started noticing the seating in the visitor's area. I counted the first row of chairs - seven; the second row consisted of 9 chairs and the third row had 10 chairs. I thought to myself, why is it so?

Then it just came: My friend in jail, the magistrate, who during his lifetime would have spent many, many hours in this very room, sentencing criminals to jail, was himself sent to jail - on 7/9/01, on the day of the hailstorm. It can't all be co-incidence.

- - - - - - -

 

For Auction: 155 Weymouth Street, Adelaide

In Chapter 22, Book 5, I wrote about a notorious Adelaide brothel owner, forcibly evicted from her City premises. There was some resistance and visible damage.

The lady had only a few years earlier married an ex-bikie gang leader, Steve Williams. As I understand it he had come clean and was about to publish his auto-biography. He never achieved his goal.

I heard that Mr. Williams, when last seen in the car park of a Motel at Gepps Cross, was in the company of a number of men, dressed in suit and tie. He was, so my informant told me, desperately trying to phone a policeman he had trusted, but was unable to make contact.

It is rumoured Mr. Williams was murdered. His disappearance was in the news for a while. Little is reported on the case any longer. Many wonder what secrets about the Adelaide underworld Steve wanted to reveal?

- - - - - - -

 

On the way home from the inquest, as my mind was trying to keep all the numbers together, I did something completely different, something normal. I shopped for a new shirt to take on my upcoming overseas trip. Having already been tickled by numbers that morning, what better bargain was there than a shirt for 15 Dollars, reduced from 50. The brand was Pelaco.

Three days later I again was prompted, via news on the radio, to drive into the city of Adelaide to attend another gathering of importance. (There were TV cameras, so it must be important!) The venue was at the Adelaide Town Hall and concerned the proposed new grandstand in the centre of the Victoria Park racecourse.

As I understood the issue, the Government's plan was to spend millions on this huge building which, the opposition claimed, would only be used a few times a year and only benefit the rich.

To be honest, as was the case in the inquest above, I did not really know, what difference my presence in these gatherings made. I certainly had no role to play at this meeting. But I knew I was meant to be in the public gallery of the Adelaide City that Monday evening.

I observed the following on of the sheets of papers that were handed out.

 

From my diary: Item 7 for Consideration in confidence

 The above was all that was on page 1263 of the document handed out. I could C (100) it - Item No. 7 and the page number.

Why are the digits 1963 so great in my eyes? They contain the digits for John 3, 16 - the Verse in the bible, which give the reason Christ came into the world.

But there is another reason, Christ came into the world: To destroy the works of the evil one. The number 9 did that!

How? Nine = N in.

 The day I saw the name Liddy and exchanged a D for a N to see Lindy, an incredible chain of events started in earnest. It exposed a most despicable act of betrayal of an innocent man. All with one letter and one number!

 - - - - - - -

 

My diaries are filled with incidences, where I had seen a little magic surrounding my day to day activities. A bus was turning left, out of Goodall Road, onto Bridge Road. In the 23 years we lived in our street I had never seen a bus turn that way. As I drove in the lane beside the bus, I added the registration number 312 and the bus number 2749 = 3016.

Then there are always Street names, which I feel I had been guided to, because they mean something. One evening I cycled north along the beach in Adelaide's Largs Bay. Suddenly I noticed some bits near a bus stop and felt I should check it out. Then I noticed the Street name: Seaspray Ave; next came Ellaway. Later I went back to that location in my Suzuki. As I turned the car around near a reserve, I read the name ESP Rogers Reserve.

How interesting, only now can I see that it's the same name Rogers, as the alias of the murdered woman above. Is this ESP or what? Since returning from overseas there has been another ESP story, which lead me to a car dealership in Mainz, Germany. Details in a later chapter, God willing).

I should not need to explain after five books of codes, why I was mildly excited about the names. Perhaps for readers, who have not read the magic of Seaspray/Seespray, it all started in Blackwood, South Australia (code MC - Book 2, Chapter 34) and linked to Long Beach, California, where the one who "prays and sees" saw another code MC1 (Book 4, Chapter 6). 

- - - - - - -

 

 More codes observed and recorded in my Diary: Sat. 24 March 07:

 

Text: Saw this movie at Brighton (I saw codes - kissing scene - CN & NT in background at train station...

My wife and I went to a double movie show: Both movie titles were about women, The Queen and Miss Potter.  Why is Miss Potter, (Renee Zellweger) holding her finger to her lips?

- - - - - - -

 

During my latest USA trip I experienced much of the same magical, mystery madness, to describe it brutally honest, as I had during the previous two. Those three words, starting with M, describe how I see my journey so far. Nothing much had changed, except I see more and more method in the madness. 

I feel obliged to report on the many events, large and small, which I lived through during my circling of the glove in April/May 07. It's mainly for the sake of those, who have personally witnessed what took place, or were somehow involved.

Had I not challenged readers, to test it for themselves that all is true and real? If done with a believing, searching heart there is nothing wrong with it. By travelling the world, the net of believers would widen after each trip, after every month of every year. Another reason for my travels. 

The whole time in my journey, in the various stages, I felt God was working behind the scenes to do just that - show that HE is real, that HE sees, that HE can work miracles. From California to Alabama via Dallas, from London and Amsterdam, to Hamburg and Berlin, from Stuttgart to Fuessen, Frankfurt and the Ruhr Region and finally in Singapore and Melbourne - God was with me everywhere, I never walked alone.

As I think back, when during a soccer match the 57000 strong sell-out crowd in Stuttgart's Gottlieb Daimler stadium sang - You'll never walk alone* I had trouble holding back tears., just as I do now, typing those words.

I never forget that song - on the 5th of the 5th 07.

*You'll never walk alone  (Listen now)

(Rogers and Hammerstein)

When you walk through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark
At the end of the storm
Is a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark

Walk on through the wind
Walk on through the rain
Tho' your dreams be tossed and blown
Walk on, walk on
With hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone
You'll never walk alone

 

(Did you notice that name Rogers again -  totally unplanned magic).

The second line in the verse above is exactly the encouragement Mrs. Liddy gave to her son, after he was arrested and charged innocently. Years later he did hold his head up high, as he walked from court chased by TV camera crews. That day I noticed on the TV screen the way he held his head high, and a small voice inside me said: "That man is innocent".

- - - - - - -

 

Let me close this chapter with two stories from Germany. The first one highlighted my dilemma perfectly - either the numbers were all co-incidence or a higher power is controlling them.

One morning in my home town Esslingen, Germany, I had opportunity to sit and talk about my strange journey with a close friend I was staying with. The most recent and dramatic numbers-coincident was the one involving 4860 and the huge storm, which devastated almost the entire banana crop of Australia last year. It happened after the Australian Parliament gave the green light  to the abortion pill RU 486 by taking powers away from the Health Minister.

During our 1/2 hour conversation I could not convince my friend, a Christian lady, that God had anything to do with it. She regarded it as co-incidental. I was the only one, who saw it that way. For a short time, I felt my dream was tossed and blown through a storm, a very short storm.

I went and showered. As I was drying myself I noticed the bathroom scales. They were, like everything else in their renovated house, modern and high-tech. I stood onto the scales to weigh myself. I weighed exactly - 68.4 kilograms. I seldom weigh myself. But this was the first time ever, as far as I can remember, that I used electronic scales.

To me that number, just at that hour, was indeed like a sweet silver song of a lark, with a golden sky to frame the picture. (Interesting the first 4 letters of silver - SI505).

 

My second story only happened, because I had made a mistake. Instead of checking my schedule for my departure out of Frankfurt, I went by memory and arrived at the airport six hours too early. Why would this happen to me, I wondered? Had I not made this mistake I would have arrived in the ICE fast train at Frankfurt Flughafen and departed.

Did God want me to pay a brief visit to Frankfurt?  Even from our mistakes, this I believe strongly, God can create something beautiful, something good. I believe HE did in Frankfurt that sunny evening.

There was a cost involved to leave my luggage, take the train and explore Frankfurt.  But just because of the cost, how could I say no? I really enjoyed the two hours or so. Walking into a large, red brick Cathedral I saw copies of a Christian newspaper on a desk. I read the headline, with some concern, so decided to take it for later reading on the plane.

The article's headline, Frankfurt braucht schoene Moscheen (Frankfurt needs beautiful mosques), said it all: A Christian newspaper was promoting a multi-religious Germany. The core sentence reads:

The change to a multi-religious society is growing and unstoppable. Now it all depends, if political forces don't block this process, but support it.

The impression I got not only from reading this article, but talking to my German friends, even Christians, it was all about tolerance and dialog. I saw some danger in this thinking.

Soon after arriving back in Australia I googled the author's name and promptly found her website. She portrait herself as a feminist, which led me to ask her a very personal question at the end of the email I sent her.

Regardless of her beliefs and values, I liked the writer's name - Antje.

Here is the email I sent at the end of May 07: I shall print the German text first, then in English, to save German readers a little work:

 

Liebe Antje,

In einer Kirche in Frankfurt sah ich in einer Zeitung Ihren Artikel. Sie schreiben: Frankfurt braucht schoene Moscheen.

Wie kommt es denn, dass man in islamischen Laendern wie Saudi Arabien nicht einmal eine christiliche Gebetsstunde abhalten darf? Wo ist da die Logik? Ich kaempfe auch noch mit dem Gedanken - wie koennen die Nachfolger Jesu' einem anderen Gott (Mohammed) es in ihrem Land bequem machen, obwohl sie doch den zehn Geboten folgen sollten. Das allererste heisst ganz ausdruecklich: Du sollst keine andern Goetter neben mir haben.

Auf meinem Deutschland Besuch habe ich oft das Wort "Toleranz" gehoert. Darf ich vorschlagen, dass Toleranz gut ist, jedoch Liebe ist viel besser. Gott ist Liebe, nicht Toleranz. Und wenn schon Toleranz, warum fordern wir das nicht vom Islam, damit die Christen in islamischen Laendern auch ihren Glauben ausueben duerfen? Fast taeglich lese ich wie Christen verfolgt, gefoltert und getoetet werden.

Naturlich soll ich meinen Nachbarn Ali aus Syrien lieben. Das heisst aber nicht, ich muss Ruecksicht auf seine Religion nehmen und im Kindergarten besser nichts ueber Jesus (dem Sohn Gottes) lehren, falls Ali sich beleidigt fuehlt. Solches Denken schadet beiden Religionen.

"Integration in Deutschland soll keine Einbahnstrasse sein", so schreiben Sie. Ist nicht der Islam auf einer breiten Einbahnstrasse gegen den Westen unterwegs? Es wird nie Harmonie geben, glauben Sie mir das, bis Jesus sein Reich ueber die ganze Welt ausgebreitet hat und jeder sich IHM zu beugen hat.   

Viele Gruesse von Adelaide

Dieter Fischer

PS  Jeder der ein Liebesverhaeltnis hat mit Jesus, dem Mann aller Maenner, will nichts als IHN und seine Lehre fuer uns und unsere Kinder. Sind Sie in Jesus verliebt?  

 

Translated to English:

 

Dear Antje,

In a church in Germany I noticed in a newspaper your article. You write: Frankfurt needs beautiful mosques.

How then is it that in Islamic countries, like Saudi Arabia, you are not even allowed to hold a Christian prayer meeting? Where is the logic? I am further struggling with the thought, how can the followers of Jesus advocate more comfort for another God (Mohammed) in their country, when clearly they should be following the ten commandments? The first one says specifically: You shall have no other Gods before me.     

During my stay in Germany I have often heard the word tolerance. May I suggest that tolerance is good, love is better. God is Love, not tolerance. But if tolerance, why don't we demand that Christians in Islamic countries are freely allowed to follow their belief? Almost daily I read how Christians are persecuted, tortured and even killed.

Of course, I love my neighbour Ali from Syria. But this does not mean I have to consider Ali's religion and better not teach anything to children in Kindergarten about Jesus, the son of God, otherwise Ali may be offended. Such thinking will hurt both religions.

You write: "Integration in Germany should not be a one-way street". Isn't Islam moving against the West in a wide one-way street?

There will never be harmony, believe me, until Jesus has extended HIS kingdom over the whole earth, and all will have to bow to HIM.

Greetings from Adelaide

Dieter Fischer

PS  All who are in a love-relationship with Jesus, the man of all men, want nothing more than HIM and HIS teaching for us and our children. Are you in love with Jesus?

 

The reason I was specific about Ali from Syria, when I was a young child, a very friendly, kind man used to come and visit us. My parents got on well with him. He used to bring us little presents. He must have really loved children. His name was Ali, a guest worker from Syria.

My example about the restriction of Christian teachings in Kindergarten is not invented. A friend from church, whose birthday party I attended, told us, she runs a Kindergarten. Her superiors, government officials, have established very strict guidelines, what is acceptable to teach to our children. That Jesus loves them and wants to be their best friend is sadly not acceptable. How very, very sad. Even Ali would agree with me.

- - - - - - -

I had intended to close this chapter here. However, some hard to believe codes sprung into my brain in the days before publishing this, so I include it here.

I believe I cracked a code, after a series of a reasonably complex chain of events and pictures of two buildings - one in Los Angeles, USA, the other in Lagos, Nigeria.

It all started with an email I sent on Monday 4/6/07. The next day I had occasion to send another email to the same recipient, the breakfast show Sunrise on Channel Seven. I had occasion to write a very sad email. (Normally, I include some fun, when commenting on certain stories). Yesterday's message was serious, because it highlighted the suffering some Christians go through in a Muslim country.

Since returning from overseas I had intended to sent the program a photo I took at Venice Beach, Los Angeles (shown at the bottom). The building shown is a Jewish Centre at No. 505 Oceanfront Walk. It features as a backdrop every morning, while their Hollywood reporter, called Nelson, waffles on about the latest gossip concerning Britney Spears, Jennifer Annison, Brad Pitt and other famous Belgians.

That morning, after watching Sunrise for a while, I remembered and was prompted to scan the photo and email it to Sunrise.

In the post a few hours later I happened to receive the June edition of a magazine. In the evening as I read the sad contents of the magazine, I suddenly saw on page 6 a building, which looked so much like the one I had sent that day to Channel 7.

This other building is at the top in the scan below. It is called Stephen House, the office of the Nigerian Arm of the Voice of the Martyrs, whose magazine I received that day.

There was an uncanny similarity in the two buildings. Judge for yourself:

 

Similarities in more ways than five

The bottom part is my photo from Venice Beach. Above it - Stephens House, as featured in the VOM Magazine, Page 6 June 06.

 

In an email to Sunrise on Tuesday 5/6 I tried to explain the similarities.

Email to Sunrise. Date Tue 5/6/07

Hi all,

This is a sad email. Yet, I see good come out of it.

Yesterday I sent you a photo of a building on Venice Beach, LA. Below is the same photo against another, which I saw in the latest Voice of the Martyrs Magazine (June 07) printed in Sydney (Ph. 02 47.. 3700).

Can you see an uncanny similarity in the two buildings? Two windows, shaped the same, on the right a square window, the same colour schemes in both buildings, a round emblem under the roofs! But the most magical part was the prefect timing - the same day I sent you the photo, the magazine arrived in my mailbox.

The photo is on page six. The building is the Office of the Voice of the Martys in Nigeria. There are sad stories of killings and burning down of churches in the sad magazine. Why do we seldom hear about these evil deeds in the main media?

On the same page 6 it tells of a Christian girl being insulted by a Muslim boy, that she was following a useless Jesus.

She replied: And you are following a useless prophet Mohammed. This comment started a mad attack on Christians and the burning down of their property and churches.

Would any Hollywood scriptwriter included the phrase "Holy Mohammed" as a swearword? It could start World War III. Yet, how often have I heard the name Jesus Christ used as blasphemy in Hollywood movies? Nobody even turns an eyelid.

If Islam is taking over, it's only because the mass media allows it to, or even supports it. If those murders and arson against Christians are true, as reported in the VOM Magazine, they should be exposed by the Western Media.

Kind regards from Adelaide

Dieter Fischer

PS  If a Christian Magazine is not telling facts correctly, they should also be made accountable.

 

That's unreal, friends, what I just discovered. I saw it just now, as I wrote - what an uncanny similarity, not only the two photos, but the two locations: Los Angeles - Lagos!

Take Lagos out of Los Angeles, it leaves us with the letters N EL ES. If ES is IT, IT is SON.

This may explain, why I did not notice Nelson on this morning's show. In LA, especially at Venice Beach, anything goes. They are UNRULY and have a shop to prove it.

 

Chapter 2

Index