I would like to end the evening of sad memories today with a short publication in memory of the murdered Rudolf Walter Richard Heß. A man of legend who sacrificed his own freedom to try to stop the war. I'm what exactly. Two days ago, in the spirit of my usual academic reading, I leafed through one little book, just about Heß. And it contains a fictional biography for several hundred pages, but that's still all right. This shit ends with the story of Heß's suicide in prison. Of course, I understand that if, under the guise of dad, scumbags from Orekhovo-Kokosovo, they settled me in an apartment that fried kebabs from dad and our documents and photos with him in the toilet, then it makes no sense to demand attention to details from condoms after this. I accidentally figured out mustard gas - I leafed through books on forensic medicine and military toxicology and caught a look at the description of the symptoms of mustard gas damage, which were one to one like in my dogs. So, before reading this funny tome with a parody of the biography of Heß, about which I also have something to tell, I just skimmed through rather nauseating books on forensic medicine. In one of them, I caught my eye on a picture that shows a strangulation groove on a hanged suicide and a corpse that was hung dead to simulate suicide. As the example of my dad shows, in the ZR/RIFLE coordinate system, corpses are not only sane, capable, legally capable, and, in principle, able to move in space and time. Why am I talking about this? Yes, all the same. The strangulation furrow on the neck of the "suicide" Heß corresponds to picture number two - where the corpse was hung. It turns out that the corpse can now hang itself - commit suicide, and after that get off and write a note. With a great sorrow I am writing about the murder of another person who was also my relative. R.I.P. Rudolf Walter Richard Heß.
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