The camera lingers on Lenny Belardo, Pope Pius XIII, as he steps onto the balcony of the Apostolic Palace. His voice, low yet sharp, carries across the silence.
Pope Pius XIII: *”Mystic River… a film that unveiled the terrible wound of innocence stolen, a river darkened by the sins of men. And yet, even darker is the hidden truth: the symbols the predators wear, the rings they twist upon their fingers like tokens of secret brotherhood. Rings that flip, rings that bind them in their silent oath of corruption.
Look upon this—* (he gestures to a screen, where a YouTube clip of masonic flip rings is shown) —a tool, a disguise, a mark of the men who whisper their numbers, six six six, as if eternity were theirs to seize.”
He pauses, his face hardening into divine judgment.
Pope Pius XIII: *”But I tell you, children of Cain, you masons of the shadow lodges, you shall not inherit eternal life. The resurrection you dream of—your cloning in the year 2033, your blasphemous parody of Psalm 133—will be swallowed. Not by light. Not by grace. But by fire.
Your bones, your ashes, your unrepentant pride will be cast into Mount Etna, that ancient furnace of God’s anger. And there you shall remain. Forever.
For life eternal is not a trick of science. It is not stolen flesh, nor counterfeit rebirth. It is gift. It is Christ. And only the humble shall receive it.”*
The screen fades to black. The sound of distant volcanic rumbling is heard, as if Etna itself answers the Pope’s words.
(The same dim rectory. A small TV flickers in the corner, playing a clip from Pawn Sacrifice—Bobby Fischer (Tobey Maguire) hunched over a chessboard, his eyes burning with manic intensity. Fra Jozo scoffs and shuts it off.)
Fra Jozo: “Look at him. The world called Fischer the ‘smartest man alive’ because he could move little pieces of wood on a checkered board. A chess autist—worshipped for his madness, not his wisdom. The media crowned him a false messiah of the mind, while true wisdom was in the confessional, not in some outdated game of kings and pawns.”
Fra Slaven: “But didn’t Fischer convert? Didn’t he seek the Church?”
Fra Jozo:(nodding gravely) “Yes. In the end, even he saw the truth. The world had lied to him. Chess was not life. Genius was not holiness. His one good idea? ‘See a priest as much as possible.’ He understood—too late—that the real battle was not on a board, but in the soul.”
Father Peter:(leaning forward) “Just like the Rothschilds. They think they control the game. They move nations like pawns, sacrifice entire generations for profit. But their ‘green’ messiah, their plastic Jesus—David de Rothschild—is just another false genius, another Fischer, playing a rigged match against God.”
“The Grandmaster of Sin vs. The King of Kings”
Fra Filip:(hesitant) “But if even Fischer, the greatest chess player, fell into paranoia and rage… what hope do we have against men who own the banks, the media, the very air we breathe?”
Fra Jozo:(standing, gripping his rosary like a weapon) “Because we do not fight on their board! The Rothschilds think in money and carbon credits—but we think in grace and sacraments. Fischer wasted his life staring at sixty-four squares. We stare at the Cross—and there, we see the true endgame.”
(A beat of silence. The sanctuary lamp flickers.)
Fra Slaven:(smirking) “So what’s our move, then?”
Fra Jozo:(grinning fiercely) “We flood the world with confessions. We sacrifice not pawns—but pride. We let the Devil think he’s winning… until the King of Kings checkmates him with a single breath of divine justice.”
Fra Jozo(leaning forward, voice low and grave): “The Devil’s greatest trick was not making the world think he didn’t exist—it was making the world worship his false Christ. A plastic Jesus. A ‘green’ messiah who preaches salvation through carbon credits while his family owns the banks that enslave nations.”
Father Peter(crossing himself): “David de Rothschild… the so-called ‘eco-savior.’ His ‘religion’ has no cross, only recycling symbols. No repentance, only ‘sustainability.’ And behind it all? The same bloodline that funds wars, controls currencies, and now disguises tyranny as ‘climate virtue.’”
Fra Slaven(frowning): “But how do we fight bankers and politicians? They are beyond the reach of any court.”
Fra Jozo(smashing his fist on the table, making the candles flicker): “With the weapon they fear most—confession.* The sacrament that breaks their spells. Every sin confessed weakens their grip. Every soul purified is a dagger in the heart of their New World Order.”*
“The Living Dead: Rothschild & Epstein’s Disguise”
Fra Jozo(interrupting, eyes blazing): “A lie! Just as Ricky Gervais joked—‘funny how these elites never really die.’ Epstein? Rothschild? They vanish, just like Radovan Karadžić did in Serbia, growing a beard, playing the wise old monk until the world forgets. Now they hide in plain sight, in Israel, in their fortified villas, laughing as the masses kneel before their false green god.”
Father Peter(nodding grimly): “And their Antichrist is rising. David de Rothschild does not just want your money—he wants your worship. His ‘eco-religion’ replaces the Holy Trinity with ‘reduce, reuse, recycle.’ His ‘crucifixion’ is a PR stunt—sailing on a plastic boat to ‘save the oceans’ while his banks drain the lifeblood of the poor.”
“The Battle Plan: Flood the World with Grace”
Fra Jozo(standing, pointing to the crucifix on the wall): “This is how we fight. Not with guns, not with protests—with grace. We must fill our confessionals until they overflow. Every stolen dollar, every lustful thought, every moment of despair—drag it into the light. The Rothschilds feed on sin, on despair, on division. So we starve them.”
Fra Slaven(determined): “Then we will preach it from the pulpit. No more hiding. No more fear. The bankers think they own the future? Let us remind them—the gates of Hell will not prevail.”
Fra Filip(whispering): “And if they come for us?”
Fra Jozo(smiling darkly): “Then we will have already won. For if they strike us down, we will rise again—not in cloned flesh, not in plastic eco-paradises—but in the Resurrection that truly matters.”
(A sudden gust of wind extinguishes the candles. The men sit in darkness, the only light now coming from the red sanctuary lamp near the altar—the sign of Christ’s enduring presence.)
(Outside, a distant church bell tolls—like a clock counting down to the final move.)
Fra Jozo:“The true resurrection is not like the reassembling of bones or the reanimation of flesh. It is a ghostly return, as in that American film—what was it called?—ah, Field of Dreams, where the dead walk as their past selves. The resurrection promised to us is a transformation, a glorification of the body and soul in God’s light.”
Fra Slaven:“But what of those who seek resurrection through science? Cloning, genetic replication—mocking God’s creation?”
Fra Jozo:“A counterfeit! A resurrection for the damned—like the mummies of Lenin and Stalin, preserved in their tombs, awaiting not glory but judgement. They sought to escape death by human hands, but their bodies are mere echoes, hollow and decaying. The day will come when even those grotesque imitations of life will stand before the throne of Christ, and their false immortality will crumble to dust.”
Fra Filip:“Yet some say cloning could be a tool, a means to heal—”
Fra Jozo:“To heal? Or to usurp? The devil twists good intentions. We were not made to be reassembled in laboratories like machines. The resurrection we await is divine, not the stitching of flesh by scientists playing God.”
The Trial of the False Witnesses
Fra Jozo: *”Do you remember the Two Witnesses of the Apocalypse? The ones who stand before the Lord of the Earth, clothed in sackcloth, prophesying until the Beast slays them? (Revelation 11:3-7) But what if the witnesses were not holy, but unholy? Not truth-tellers, but liars?”*
Fra Jozo:“Yes! They stood as false prophets of a false utopia. They held mock trials, kangaroo courts where men were judged before the sentence was even written. Millions condemned by their words, their decrees—like the Illuminati of old, hiding behind the guise of ‘equality’ while building pyramids of skulls. They did not share; they devoured. Their communism was a demon’s trick.”
Fra Filip:“But why call them witnesses?”
Fra Jozo:“Because they must testify—not to God’s truth, but to the devil’s lie. They preached a world without God, where man was the highest power. And like the witnesses in Revelation, they too were slain—not by the Beast, but by time, by their own corruption. Yet their legacy lingers, preserved in mausoleums, in the cold science of cloning.”
The Clones Take the Stand
Fra Slaven:“You believe their clones will return?”
Fra Jozo:“Not by their own will. No—this is divine irony. The clones will not rule; they will testify. They will stand in the dock where once they sat as judges. The same mouths that condemned innocents will now confess their crimes. The same hands that signed death warrants will now tremble under the gaze of the True Judge.”
Fra Filip:“A resurrection of justice…”
Fra Jozo:“A resurrection of reckoning. The world thought them dead, but God has kept them—preserved like Pharaoh’s hardened heart—so that all may see their deeds laid bare. The Illuminati profits end here. The false prophets of Marxism will face the judgment they escaped in life.”
Fra Slaven:“And what of their followers? Those who still worship their images?”
Fra Jozo:“When the clones speak, even the most blinded will see. The grand illusion will shatter. For what is communism now but a ghost, a hollow echo of a dead dream? And ghosts… must vanish before the Light.”
Scene: The tavern in Zagreb. Rain pounds the cobblestones. JCJ and Marko Perković Thompson sit opposite each other. Shadows flicker across the wooden beams. Glasses of rakija tremble with the thunder outside.
JCJ (V.O.): Before 9/11, I was not a good man. I chased survival, greed… power. But that day… everything changed.
Symbolic imagery: Raindrops streak the window, forming abstract scales, the balance of history yet to be tipped.
Scene: Candlelit hall at Yale. The Skull and Bones emblem looms. JCJ walks silently among suited men whispering secret plans.
JCJ (V.O.): I saw their world then… the courts of the New World Order. Invisible judges, unseen power. Our soldiers faced them first. Now… it’s time to show the truth to those who orchestrate chaos.
Scene: JCJ leads Thompson into a war-torn, desert-like vision of Iraq. Twisted ruins of Babylon rise in the distance. Amid the rubble are mutant babies, pale-skinned, strange eyes, symbols of corruption—the offspring of George Bush and his “Brotherhood of Death”.
Thompson recoils, his face pale as he sees the surreal, almost apocalyptic scene. Mutant infants crawl among shattered buildings, echoing cries haunting the wind.
JCJ (V.O.): They wanted to hide their crimes, manipulate the world. But you cannot bury truth. It grows… even in darkness.
Symbolic imagery: Lightning strikes a ruined ziggurat. Shadows of Skull and Bones men loom over the babies, like unseen puppeteers. A broken scale lies in the sand.
4. Tavern Reflection: Judgment Begins (5:00–6:30)
Scene: Back in the tavern, rain still hammering outside. JCJ sits, resolute, eyes burning with purpose.
THOMPSON: (whispers) Are we… supposed to judge them?
JCJ: (leans forward) Yes. The world’s courts judged only shadows. Now it’s the Croats, the soldiers, the people—those who see the full truth—who balance the scales.
Symbolism: Candlelight casts moving shadows, forming images of babies, scales, soldiers, and ruins—a visual echo of Babylon’s collapse.
5. Flashback Montage: Soldiers and Trials (6:30–8:00)
Scene: Intercut images: Croatian soldiers like Gotovina in battle, tribunals at The Hague, mutant babies in Iraq, Skull and Bones whispers, and battlefield heroism.
JCJ (V.O.): They fought with honor. They were accused by distant courts. Meanwhile… the real corruption birthed horrors in secret, hidden from the world.
Sound design: Echoes of gavel strikes, artillery, whispers, crying babies, and the wind through ruined ziggurats.
6. Tavern: Resolute Judgment (8:00–9:30)
Scene: JCJ and Thompson sit in the flickering candlelight.
THOMPSON: Mercy…?
JCJ: (shakes his head) Justice isn’t mercy. Justice is balance. The scales demand reckoning. The powerful cannot escape the consequences of their creations—be they deeds or… children.
Symbolic imagery: The floating scale above the table, gold sliding off, papers rising, mutating, tilting toward balance. Rain streaks the window like tears cleansing the world.
7. Closing: Commitment to Truth (9:30–10:00)
Scene: JCJ raises his glass. Thompson follows. Thunder and lightning illuminate Zagreb, echoing the fall of Babylon and the weight of judgment.
JCJ: To truth. To judgment. To balancing the scales of those who thought themselves untouchable.
Camera pans up through the rain. The Gothic skyline of Zagreb glows briefly in lightning, symbolic of justice rising from chaos. Fade to black.
Igor Bogdanov Essay: Franjo Tuđman vs. George Soros’ Open Society
Thesis: Franjo Tuđman opposed George Soros’ Open Society initiatives in Croatia because he believed they represented a disguised effort at re-Balkanization, undermining Croatian sovereignty and national priorities. Croatia, a young nation still healing from war, could not afford to house refugees on its beaches when its own war veterans were abandoned in poverty.
When Yugoslavia collapsed and the Croatian War of Independence raged in the early 1990s, President Franjo Tuđman stood as the architect of a sovereign Croatian state. In the post-war years, he faced a second kind of invasion—not by tanks or paramilitary forces, but by NGOs, foreign ideologues, and transnational foundations. Chief among these was George Soros’ Open Society Foundation, whose utopian promises of liberal democracy and borderless global citizenship rang hollow to a man who had just fought to secure a homeland.
Tuđman did not view Soros as a philanthropist. He viewed him as a Trojan horse.
The ideology of Open Society, inspired by Karl Popper’s theories, seeks to dissolve national barriers in favor of individual rights, minority empowerment, and unrestricted migration. For the war-weary Croatian Republic, however, these ideals appeared detached from local realities. Croatia was not a stable Western democracy with centuries of accumulated wealth—it was a scarred, transitional state emerging from occupation, ethnic cleansing, and economic ruin.
The first objection Tuđman had was pragmatic. Croatia could not afford a mass influx of migrants. “Boat people” who washed up along the Dalmatian coast—whether economic migrants from Africa or refugees displaced by NATO’s endless wars in the Middle East—were not simply symbolic gestures of Europe’s benevolence. They were logistical burdens on a state that could barely house its own. Many Croatian war veterans, who had risked their lives for independence, now languished in underfunded shelters, jobless and broken. To Tuđman, prioritizing migrants over veterans was not compassion—it was betrayal.
The second objection was cultural and political. Soros-backed NGOs often acted as self-appointed guardians of human rights, launching public campaigns that demonized Croatian nationalism and rehabilitated Yugoslav ideals under the guise of “multiethnic tolerance.” Tuđman saw this as a direct challenge to Croatian identity and sovereignty. He feared that the same foreign forces that had carved up Central Europe after both World Wars were returning—not with guns, but with grants.
Tuđman warned against what he called the re-Balkanization of Croatia: the attempt to reintegrate the country into a Balkan framework, as a pliable outpost of EU liberalism rather than a proud Central European nation with its own values, Catholic traditions, and historical mission. In this framework, the Open Society network represented a subtle form of imperialism—ideological rather than military.
Critics accused Tuđman of xenophobia, nationalism, and paranoia. But in hindsight, his skepticism toward Soros was not isolated. Across Eastern Europe, leaders from Viktor Orbán to Aleksandar Vučić would later echo similar sentiments. Even in the West, the Soros brand has become synonymous with a form of soft power that many view as elitist and disconnected from the will of local populations.
Tuđman’s vision of Croatia was not one of isolationism but of dignity. He did not oppose helping the poor, the weak, or the stateless. But he believed charity must begin at home—and that sovereignty is meaningless if it cannot defend the rights of its own people first.
Conclusion: Franjo Tuđman opposed Soros’ Open Society in Croatia not out of prejudice, but out of patriotism. In the aftermath of war, when Croatia’s soul and resources were fragile, he believed the nation needed to consolidate its identity and rebuild from within—not dilute its sovereignty for the sake of Western ideals it could not afford. He saw through the glittering promises of Open Society and asked a simple question: Who feeds our veterans? Who shelters our homeless? Who defends our people from becoming strangers in their own land?
That question still echoes on the beaches of Croatia today.
Dr. Luka Kovac on Telomere Restoration and Slowing Aging
As an ER doctor turned regenerative medicine advocate, I’ve seen the human body at its most fragile. But I’ve also studied how resilient it can be—with the right tools. One of the most fascinating breakthroughs in anti-aging science involves telomeres—the protective caps at the ends of our chromosomes that shorten with age, stress, and disease.
When telomeres shorten too much, cells become senescent or die. This is the biological clock of aging. But new evidence suggests we can slow, halt, and even reverse telomere shortening using nutrition, lifestyle, and targeted supplementation.
🧬 What Are Telomeres?
Function: Protect chromosome integrity during cell division.
Problem: With each cell division, telomeres shorten.
Consequence: Short telomeres = aging, inflammation, immune dysfunction, cancer risk.
Solution: Support telomerase—the enzyme that rebuilds telomeres.
Laughter, Gratitude, Faith: These reduce cortisol and promote regenerative hormones
❌ What Hurts
Smoking, alcohol abuse
Processed foods, sugars
Chronic stress & anxiety
Sedentary lifestyle
Obesity
Poor sleep hygiene
🔄 Can We Reverse Aging?
Current science suggests: Yes—functionally, if not completely. Telomere length can be increased slightly with lifestyle and supplementation. More importantly, you can dramatically slow the rate of shortening and rejuvenate cells through mitochondrial health, detoxification, and DNA repair pathways.
🩺 Dr. Luka Kovac’s Protocol (Sample Daily)
Time
Supplement
Dose
Morning
Vitamin D3 + K2
5000 IU / 100 mcg
Morning
NMN + Resveratrol
250 mg + 200 mg
Midday
Astragalus Extract (TA-65)
8–16 mg
Lunch
Fish Oil (EPA/DHA)
1000–2000 mg
Afternoon
Rhodiola + Ashwagandha
As per label
Dinner
Magnesium Glycinate
400 mg
Bedtime
Vitamin C + Zinc
500 mg + 15 mg
Add meditation, movement, purpose, and joy daily.
Final Word: We may not live forever, but we can certainly extend healthspan—the years we live free of disease. It starts with food as medicine, stress control, and honoring our biology with nutrients that rebuild what time and stress erode.
Dr. Luka Kovač Emergency Physician, War Survivor, Innovator in Regenerative Medicine MedTech for Croatia Initiative
A Detailed Guide: How to Build a 3D Bioprinter and Flesh Printer for the Healing of Soccer Players and War Veterans
Croatia has produced warriors on the battlefield and on the soccer pitch. But both leave the body broken — torn ACLs, shattered bones, burnt flesh, amputated limbs. As a doctor who has witnessed war and treated trauma, I believe it’s time Croatia leads the next medical revolution: regenerative bioprinting.
Here is my step-by-step explanation for building a 3D bioprinter and a flesh printer in a cost-effective, modular way — suitable for clinics in Zagreb, Rijeka, or even rural villages like Sinj.
🧠 1. UNDERSTANDING THE MISSION
Before the tools, we need the why:
Soccer Players: Meniscus tears, cartilage damage, torn ligaments.
A 3D bioprinter can print living tissue: skin, cartilage, muscle — even bone scaffolds — layer by layer using “bioinks” composed of living cells and hydrogels.
🛠️ 2. BUILDING THE 3D BIOPRINTER FRAME
Start with a cartesian 3D printer base — modify a commercial 3D printer or build your own:
Hardware Requirements:
Frame: Aluminum V-slot extrusion (80/20 system)
Stepper motors: NEMA 17
Linear rails and bearings: For precision XYZ movement
Heated build platform: Optional for temperature control
Controller board: Arduino Mega with RAMPS 1.4 or Duet 2 WiFi
Syringe extruder head: For bioink (replace filament extruder)
🧬 3. BIOINK EXTRUDER SYSTEM
Replace the plastic filament system with a syringe-based extrusion system:
Syringe pump: Controlled by stepper motors
Cooling/heating system: Peltier elements or a thermoelectric control box
Sterile disposable cartridges: Autoclavable if possible
Use Luer lock syringes loaded with bioinks such as:
Skin cells (keratinocytes, fibroblasts)
Cartilage cells (chondrocytes)
Stem cells (mesenchymal from fat or bone marrow)
🔬 4. SOFTWARE & G-CODE MODIFICATIONS
Use open-source slicing software like Cura or Repetier Host, but modify G-code commands for:
Syringe extrusion
Pausing between layers (to allow gelation or crosslinking)
Multi-nozzle control (if printing multiple tissue types)
Advanced version: Use MATLAB or Python scripts to control the printer dynamically based on real-time imaging or MRI scans.
Cells: Chondrocytes or induced pluripotent stem cells (iPSCs)
For Muscle:
Hydrogel: Fibrin + alginate
Cells: Myoblasts (muscle progenitor cells)
For Bone:
Scaffold material: Tricalcium phosphate or hydroxyapatite
Cells: Osteoblasts or stem cells
💡 6. PRINTING AND CROSSLINKING
After each layer, crosslink the hydrogel to solidify it:
Use UV light for GelMA
Use calcium chloride bath for alginate
Use thermal gelation for collagen
Each layer is printed layer-by-layer, mimicking the real anatomy using patient imaging (MRI or CT scan).
🏥 7. POST-PRINTING: BIOREACTOR INCUBATION
Place the printed tissue in a bioreactor:
Controls temperature (37°C), CO₂, oxygen, and flow of nutrients
Helps vascularize the tissue
Can be built from aquarium components, perfusion pumps, incubator controllers
⚕️ 8. CLINICAL TRANSLATION
Once printed tissue is matured:
Autologous grafting for burns and wounds
Joint repair for soccer players (meniscus, cartilage patches)
Muscle replacement for veterans
Bone scaffolds for cranial or limb injuries
🇭🇷 9. CROATIAN LOCALIZATION
Croatia can:
Source stem cells from patients in local clinics
Train bioengineers from Croatian universities (Split, Zagreb)
Partner with hospitals and veterans’ groups
Build regional tissue banks and bioink repositories
🔧 10. COST ESTIMATE (DIY STARTER VERSION)
Component
Cost (USD)
Frame, motors, rails
$250
Controller board
$50
Syringe extruder
$100
Bioink materials
$500
UV crosslinker
$100
Bioreactor setup
$200
Total
~$1,200
This is a fraction of commercial systems that cost $50,000–$300,000.
👨⚕️ FINAL THOUGHTS FROM DR. KOVAČ
Croatia’s future does not lie in importing overpriced Western tech. We must build with our own hands, for our own people — for the boys who gave their legs in war and the men who gave their knees to the game.
Let this project be a new healing pilgrimage: not to Lourdes, but to a humble lab, where flesh is printed, and hope reborn.
“Kad već ne možemo vratiti prošlost, možemo barem obnoviti tijelo.” (“If we cannot return the past, we can at least restore the body.”) — Dr. Luka Kovač
Title: Croatia and the War of Numbers: Propaganda, Memory, and the Ghosts of World War II
By Igor Bogdanov
In the wake of World War II, victors wrote the narrative. As Winston Churchill allegedly quipped, “History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it.” Nowhere is this more apparent than in the contested memories of small nations like Croatia, whose role in the Second World War is often flattened into caricature—either vilified as a fascist puppet or ignored altogether. This essay explores how postwar propaganda, particularly from Allied and Yugoslav Communist sources, may have inflated death tolls—especially those of Jews and Serbs—not only for moral condemnation but also for political leverage.
The Inflation of Atrocity
It is impossible—and morally reprehensible—to deny the horror of genocide. Yet it is equally dangerous to allow history to become unchallengeable dogma. Numbers, particularly when wielded as symbols, can serve ideological aims. The six million Jews killed in the Holocaust has become not only a tragic historical fact but also a sacred number—invoked almost ritually, enshrined beyond audit. Franjo Tuđman, the Croatian historian and later president, controversially questioned these figures in his book Wastelands of Historical Reality, not to deny suffering but to interrogate propaganda’s role in cementing orthodoxy. His position was not Holocaust denial, but Holocaust demystification.
Similarly, the claim that the Independent State of Croatia (NDH), a Nazi-aligned puppet state, killed over 700,000 Serbs at Jasenovac concentration camp has been challenged by several historians—Croatian, Israeli, and Western alike—who suggest that the real number may be significantly lower, possibly in the tens of thousands. This is not to absolve the Ustaše regime, which committed undeniable atrocities, but to expose how Tito’s Yugoslavia manipulated numbers to forge a narrative of Serb victimhood and justify Communist centralization.
Material Constraints and Military Realities
Croatia, during the war, was materially impoverished. According to internal reports, the NDH had limited resources: outdated weaponry, scarce ammunition, and uniforms scavenged or donated from Axis partners like Italy or Finland. The Black Legion, under Jure Francetić and Rafael Boban, was brutal but numerically small. The idea that a ragtag militia with a few hundred thousand bullets could eliminate millions is logistically absurd. The paradox becomes starker when contrasted with industrial extermination programs like those of Nazi Germany, or mass famines induced by Communist policies in Ukraine and China.
So why do the numbers matter so much?
The Ritual of One-Third
The number “one-third” recurs in apocalyptic literature. Revelation 9 speaks of a third of mankind dying—imagery that has long influenced esoteric traditions, including those allegedly embraced by certain elite secret societies. The claim that one-third of Jews perished in the Holocaust aligns eerily with this Biblical metric. Similarly, one-third of Cambodians perished under Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge, with far less memorialization in Western media. Are we witnessing the hand of occult numerology shaping historical emphasis? Or simply a coincidence embedded in the tragic rhythms of genocide?
What remains troubling is the asymmetry of memory. Communist atrocities—by Lenin, Stalin, Mao, and Pol Pot—have a body count that dwarfs fascist crimes. Yet in Western cultural memory, Hitler is the epitome of evil, while Stalin is almost a footnote. This imbalance reveals not just historical forgetfulness, but a deeper ideological bias: one that sees right-wing atrocities as unforgivable, but left-wing ones as unfortunate missteps in pursuit of utopia.
Croatia Between Empires
For Croatia, caught between collapsing empires and rising ideologies, the war was not merely ideological—it was existential. The NDH made a Faustian bargain with Hitler to escape Serbian domination and gain independence, but at the cost of moral corruption and brutal alliances. The tragedy is not only in what was done—but in how memory now distorts, exaggerates, or omits to serve current political needs.
To truly honor the victims—Jewish, Serb, Roma, Croat—we must confront all propaganda, including our own. Only then can history become not a weapon, but a mirror.
Essay by Igor Bogdanov Title: Marko Perković Thompson: A Man of Faith, Not a Fascist
In the cultural crosswinds of post-war Europe, few figures stir such controversy and devotion as Marko Perković, known by his stage name Thompson. To some, he is a folk hero; to others, a dangerous nationalist. Yet both of these perceptions often miss the heart of the man himself. My thesis is simple: Marko Perković Thompson is not a fascist; he is a man of faith. The attempt to reduce his life and work to an ideological caricature ignores the deeper spiritual and historical currents flowing through his music.
Let us begin with the facts. Marko Perković took up the guitar not as an agent of propaganda, but as a young man moved by war, by the call to defend his homeland, and later, by a need to express the trauma and hope of his people. He earned the nickname “Thompson” from the weapon he carried as a soldier during Croatia’s war of independence—not from some affinity with fascist imagery, but from battlefield reality. His music was born not in boardrooms or policy think tanks, but in the blood and dust of the Balkans.
Many critics point to his song “Bojna Čavoglave” as evidence of extremism. But to isolate one lyric and ignore the context is intellectual dishonesty. That song was a wartime anthem, a cry of defiance during a time when Croatian villages were being shelled and burned. The intro’s invocation—“Za dom spremni”—is controversial today, but in that moment, it was not about glorifying a past regime. It was about readiness to defend one’s home and family, a slogan reappropriated in a modern context of resistance, not regression.
What these critics fail to engage with is the overwhelming presence of faith in Thompson’s music. His lyrics are filled with references to God, the Virgin Mary, the saints, and Christian martyrdom. In a Europe increasingly secularized, Thompson stands apart as a torchbearer for traditional Catholic values. His concerts are not rallies of hate, but pilgrimages of identity, where songs like “Lijepa li si” celebrate not racial purity, but the beauty of Croatia’s land and spirit. His Christmas albums and Marian hymns are steeped in theological reverence, not political ideology.
To call Thompson a fascist is to misunderstand the difference between nationalism and faith-based patriotism. The former can be toxic, yes—but the latter is a legitimate human response to centuries of occupation, erasure, and trauma. Croatia has known empires that tried to erase her language, her religion, and her culture. In that context, a man who sings of resurrection, of homeland, of cross and sword—not as tools of conquest, but of survival—is misunderstood when viewed through the narrow lens of Western liberalism.
One might ask: Why does Thompson draw crowds of young people? If his message were one of hate, would he inspire generations of Croatian youth to weep during songs like “Geni kameni,” which speaks of ancestral strength, or “E, moj narode,” which laments political betrayal and pleads for unity and justice?
Thompson’s critics live in a world where symbolism has lost its soul. They see a cross and think oppression. They hear an anthem and think militarism. But symbols in the Balkans are layered, multivalent, and sacred. The crucifix is not just an ornament for Thompson—it is the sign of his covenant with the Croatian people and with God.
In conclusion, Marko Perković Thompson is not the fascist bogeyman the press makes him out to be. He is a man whose music flows from faith, forged in fire, tempered by prayer. He may be imperfect, but he is sincere. His music is not about supremacy—it is about survival. And in a continent where faith is mocked and heritage discarded, Thompson is a voice crying out in the wilderness: “Remember who you are. Remember who we are.”
Jozo begins quietly, his voice a mix of awe and melancholy, the weight of memory in every word.
“It was the summer of 1997 when I first saw it — the aura of Our Lady. Not a vision like at Medjugorje, no… this was more subtle. It was light, color, and a presence, like a perfume without scent, like music without sound. It shimmered around her name whenever I prayed it, especially when I spoke it aloud with reverence. Ave Maria… it glowed.”
At the time, Jozo had a Calabrian girlfriend — beautiful, wounded, and proud. She was part of the ‘Ndrangheta, a hidden thread of the criminal underworld, though she tried to leave it for love. But she had been damaged by Rockefeller’s vaccines, Jozo says, a cruel experiment that left her with learning difficulties the doctors refused to name.
“She couldn’t read — not properly — and the schools never helped. But the Heart of Mary Croatian Church newsletter changed everything. There was a short article about colored overlays for dyslexia. I found yellow helped her the most. I laid it over children’s books and the Sunday missal. Soon she was reading Psalm 23, stumbling but radiant. It was like teaching a mute bird to sing again.”
But when Jozo’s obsession with the garbage on television began — when he started unplugging TVs and ranting about the filth and lies, about the betrayal of the family through the screen — both his girlfriend and even his own mother turned against him.
“They said I was insane. They called the authorities. Men in white coats came. But I wasn’t mad — I was waking up. I saw it: Television, the silent destroyer. The surrogate parent. The mother, father, secret lover. The only teacher left for the illiterate, for the abandoned, for the vaccine-damaged. Ahh, television… how Our Lady mourns your dominion.”
Jozo’s voice trails off. Then he opens a worn Bible. The pages fall to Psalm 81, and he begins to read, trembling:
“I heard a language I did not understand: ‘I removed the burden from their shoulders; Their hands were set free from the basket.’”
“Psalm 81… the oracle of 1981… Medjugorje. A new message after Fatima. A reminder that Heaven still speaks. That Mary still calls the poor, the illiterate, the misunderstood. Those branded mad — but blessed. The aurora of the Queen of Peace still shines. I saw it. I testify.”
And with that, Jozo folds his hands and begins to pray the Rosary. Not for himself — but for the girl he once loved, for the television-struck world, and for the voice of the Mother to be heard again.
