Thomas Wictor

What they want is your despair

What they want is your despair

Last night I read a life-changing essay called “Isaiah’s Job,” by Arthur Jay Nock. It explained to me why I have the urge to keep on blogging in defense of Israel. To be frank, defending Israel is incredibly unpleasant due to endless personal attacks from Jew-haters. It’s also expensive. I’m using special technology designed for me by my Webmaster, because my Website is subjected to daily hacking attempts by a team of about ten. Each automatic update of any part of my site opens up a window of vulnerability that might last only seconds. But the hackers monitor my site around the clock and attack instantly. I could easily surrender to despair.

In fact I have, on several occasions. When I found out that Israelis who don’t like me were planning to publish something to discredit me, I decided enough was enough. Let Israelis fight their own damn wars.

But then that temporary loss of resolve passed, and I realized that I actually have a duty to speak out.

Arthur Jay Nock ended his essay thusly.

It is a good job, an interesting job, much more interesting than serving the masses; and moreover it is the only job in our whole civilization, as far as I know, that offers a virgin field.

Using knowledge of munitions to debunk lies about Israel is indeed a virgin field. I seem to be the only one doing it. So that means I have the responsibility to disseminate what I know.

These photos of Islamic State Grad rockets being fired into Israel are fake.



By using the “equalization” function of my photo-enhancement software, I can see that the missiles and launchers were clumsily superimposed.


Those launchers are a nightmarish M.C. Escher mess of side- and three-quarter-view perspective, the weapon in the foreground casts only a partial shadow, the red arrow marks foliage in the background between the launcher support legs when there should be only sand, and the missiles all have dark outlines around them.

The missile being “fired” has no tail fins and casts no shadow.


Also, the flame and smoke are obvious computer-graphic imagery (CGI). They’re animated. Finally, the launcher has completely disappeared.

There’s no question that someone fired two missiles into Israel, but these are fake photos.

I can look at images and tell you exactly why they’re fraudulent. But I have a problem.

Only a handful of you understand what it’s like to be singled out for assault. It’s happened my entire life, and continues to this day. At fifty-three years old, I’m still targeted. It’s no different than when I was a child. Most people enjoy being part of a mob. Watch the movie The Ox-Bow Incident. It’s about a mob that captures three men who the mob thinks are murderers.

My life has been and will continue to be like The Ox-Bow Incident in that wherever I go and whatever I do, someone will sense that I have a history of being targeted, and that person will whip up the mob. What you need to understand is that they do it for fun. There’s no talking my way out of it or trying to explain that this is pure sadism. When the mob’s blood is up, the only thing to do is leave.

I used to post a lot on military and music forums, but I stopped because at some point, a predator with keenly honed antennae would find me, and then the mob would form.


It happened a couple of days ago when I found a possibly unique photo and wanted to share it.


I forgot that the guy who runs the forum has a pathological need to fight with me about every opinion I have. He’s a German of mediocre mind and 1970s unisex glasses.


No matter what I say, I’m wrong, even though he has no clue what he’s talking about. There’s no point in trying to communicate with him. His goal is to belittle. This is because I know much more about the subject than he does. By simply contributing information, I threaten his German unisex existence.

It’s one of the reasons I’m a hermit. But last night I read that essay by Arthur Jay Nock, and it made me realize that I have to keep blogging in defense of Israel, regardless of the cost. I sent the essay to my brother Tim. Here’s his reply.

That’s fabulous. I felt tiny cogs in my clockwork moving ahead into the future, and most rewarding is the idea that our intellectual and aesthetic morality needn’t be affected by the obsessions of the masses. The price is isolation, but it’s one I’m happy to pay. Someday we will see an occasional face or read that occasional thought and know we’re in a special communion with people who are compelled to reject stupefying trash, as we are. It’s enough to know they exist.

Today I’m going to spend the evening babysitting my cats, who are terrified of fireworks. Every single person in my neighborhood will begin shooting off illegal municipal-strength skyrockets as soon as the sun sets. They’ll do it tonight and tomorrow night. So I have to be with my cats as they hide in the closet. I’ll talk to them and play music on the radio.

I decided to watch The Exorcist before I took a nap this afternoon. It’s one of the best films ever made.


How many times have I seen this movie? Thirty? I couldn’t tell you. But just a few minutes ago, some dialog leaped out at me for the first time. Father Karras asks Father Merrin why would a demon possess this girl? It makes no sense. He means why do evil forces attack those who’ve done nothing to deserve it?

Father Merrin then provides another key, to go with the essay that I read last night.

I think the point is to make us despair. To see ourselves as animal and ugly. To reject the possibility that God could love us.

That’s exactly right. It’s why I’ve been targeted my entire life. The goal is to make me despair, to feel worthless, and to give up.

Too late. I figured it out, so now that little plan has no ability to succeed.

Whoever you are or were, Man with the White Glove, I never forgot this photo. Your example has inspired me for twenty-three years.


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