Congratulations to the fake Serbian judiciary: you sentenced a man because he defended himself from a metal pipe wielded by a thug close to the ruling regime

Feckless cowards and old subservient sycophants who call yourselves judges and lawyers – you pulled regime strings from the shadows, groveled, and framed me for defending my own life. Your pathetic ten-month prison sentence is an insult to a man's honor; for a man defending his own life, I don't even count anything under twenty years of prison in this pigsty of yours as a punishment.

 

TYRANTS DICTATE THE LAW, BUT THE RIGHTEOUS WRITE HISTORY!

 

You already know exactly what I did with that miserable verdict of yours. The time will come for the revision of these fake judgments! 

 

WAITING IN FAITH FOR THE THEOTOKOS: MY ELEVEN-HOUR TRIAL AMIDST A FEW FOOLS

June 5^th/6^th, 2026

A person's true measure in life often lies in how much injustice and untruth they can carry. A recent event, during which I spent eleven hours overnight waiting in line [04.06/05.06.2026] to venerate the Belt of the Most Holy Theotokos, brought me a great spiritual trial, but also deep reflection upon human nature.

In that line, where we all should have been gathered in peace, prayer, and humility, I experienced a series of incomprehensible provocations, shoving, and unpleasant comments from SEVERAL unknown individuals. Instead of the inner peace I sought, I found myself battling forced, intrusive thoughts and provocations that were clearly deliberate—the product of either profound misunderstanding or orchestrated lies circulating about me.

The only thing I cannot comprehend is what such people are seeking at a holy site. Were I in their place, I would tremble for my own fate and that of my loved ones if I caused malice to another out of nowhere, especially before the face of a shrine that expects something entirely different from us. In that crowd, I hold only those who acted in bad faith, with the goal of shaking my peace, responsible for such unworthy behavior. There a person could have truly felt who was who. Yet, there were moments of grace too, like the comforting presence of a girl from Zvezdara (or Borča), which was entirely pleasant.

I accepted all this suffering as my trial and a sacrifice I had to bear. I tried with all my might to control myself, to avoid falling for the provocations, and to preserve my dignity. It hurts when people condemn and attack you for no reason at all, but I believe that everyone ultimately carries their own cross and answers for their deeds.

I thank God and the Most Holy Theotokos for giving me the strength to remain calm, as well as to write this text now, which conveys my experience and thoughts in a dignified, Christian, and mature manner, without unnecessary bitterness and the vividness of bizarre details, so that my friends can understand what I went through.

 

MEĐU SVETINJOM I PONEKIM DEBILOM: JEDANAEST SATI MOG BOGORODIČINOG ISKUŠENJA

05.06 – 06.06.2026

Čovek se u životu često meri po tome koliko nepravde i neistine može da podnese. Skorašnji događaj, kada sam tokom noći jedanaest sati čekao u redu [ 04.06 / 05.06.2026 ] za poklonjenje pojasu Presvete Bogorodice, doneo mi je veliko duhovno iskušenje, ali i duboko razmišljanje o ljudima.

U tom redu, gde bi svi trebali da budemo okupljeni u miru, molitvi i poniznosti, doživeo sam niz neshvatljivih provokacija, gurkanja i neprijatnih komentara od strane NEKOLIKO nepoznatih ljudi. Umesto unutrašnjeg mira koji sam tražio, morao sam da se borim sa nametnutim, mučnim mislima i provokacijama koje su očigledno bile namerne — plod nekog dubokog nerazumevanja ili isceniranih laži koje kruže o meni.

Jedino što ne mogu da razumem jeste šta takvi ljudi traže na jednom svetom mestu. Da sam na njihovom mestu, strepeo bih za sudbinu svoju i svojih bližnjih ako iz čista mira nanosim pakost drugome, a posebno pred licem svetinje koja od nas očekuje nešto sasvim drugo. U toj masi, nedostojno ponašanje zameram isključivo onima koji su to radili u lošoj nameri, sa ciljem da uzdrmaju moj mir. Tamo je čovek zaista mogao da oseti ko je ko. Pa ipak, bilo je i lepih trenutaka blagodati, poput utešne blizine jedne simpatične devojke sa Zvezdare (ili iz Borče), koja je bila sasvim prijatna.

Sve ovo stradanje prihvatio sam kao svoje iskušenje i žrtvu koju moram da podnesem. Trudio sam se svim silama da iskontrolišem sebe, da ne nasednem na provokacije i da sačuvam dostojanstvo. Boli kada te ljudi bez ikakvog razloga osuđuju i napadaju, ali verujem da svako na kraju nosi svoj krst i odgovara za svoja dela, lično ili preko milih potomaka.

Hvala Bogu i Presvetoj Bogorodici što su mi dali snage da ostanem miran, kao i da napišem ovaj tekst koji na dostojanstven, hrišćanski i zreo način prenosi moje iskustvo i misli, bez suvišne gorčine i plastičnosti bizarnih detalja, kako bi moji prijatelji i poznanici razumeli kroz šta sam prošao.

 

THE COLD BLOW IN BELGRADE: How IKEA Ruined Art, Hygiene, and My Sanity

I am an art collector. I spend decades chasing pieces of history, buying memories, and curating beauty—like my priceless collection of vintage postcards. I don’t just buy things; I choose what they touch. So I went to IKEA Belgrade looking for Swedish precision, that clean, Western, cold-cut perfection. Instead, I walked straight into a Scorsese movie directed by a psychopath.

 

Let’s get the facts straight: The place is packed with high-tech cameras. They have my DNA through the IKEA Family card. I stood at the self-checkout, scanned every item with surgical precision to pay my dues. In the clean and honest way. To be done. 

 

Then, the floor guy steps in. Alas.

 

This guy didn't just walk over; he oozed distrust. He had these heavy, greasy, unwashed street-pigs for hands. Without a word, he lunges at my property. He rips my items away to re-scan them, his sweat-stained fingers digging straight inside the glasses and cups I am supposed to put my lips on. He handled the storage box meant for the crown jewel of my collection like he was wrapping raw meat in a back-alley butcher shop.

 

When he was done, the box was smeared. Greasy. It didn't feel like Swiss-designed plastic anymore; it felt like a dirty steering wheel of a stolen cab.

 

Now I’m home, looking at these glasses, and I feel a physical, deep-seated nausea. Drinking water from them feels like drinking straight out of a public toilet bowl. There is absolutely zero difference between buying brand-new items at this multi-billion-dollar establishment or picking them up from a muddy tarp at a feral flea market.

 

This wasn’t customer service. This was a psychological assault on my dignity. One low-life employee managed to turn a symbol of Western cleanliness into a hot, oily mess of pure disgust.

 

I don't just want a refund. I want the management to pull the tapes from those self-checkout cameras, look at what their staff is doing with their unwashed claws, and answer for this absolute violation.

 

 

SCANDAL AT IKEA BELGRADE: Gross Misconduct and Disgusting Hygiene Violations by Staff

As an art and memorabilia collector, I value care, cleanliness, and mutual respect. What I experienced at the IKEA store in Belgrade was an absolute disgrace to customer service and basic hygiene, leaving me completely disgusted.

 

The store is equipped with hundreds of cameras, and they have all my personal data via the IKEA Family card. Yet, this was not enough. After I properly and independently scanned every single item at the self-checkout, the employee monitoring the area aggressively interfered. With visibly dirty and greasy hands, he grabbed my scanned items to re-scan them, displaying blatant and insulting distrust.

 

To make matters worse, this worker literally shoved his dirty fingers inside the cups and glasses that my family and I are supposed to drink from! The storage box I bought to house my decades-old, valuable postcard collection was left smudged and feeling greasy, contaminated by his filthy hands.

 

This level of unhygienic behavior and audacity is unacceptable. The sense of disgust I feel looking at these items is indescribable—it feels like I bought them from the filthiest flea market rather than a store that brands itself as "clean and European." They completely ruined my day and the items I paid for.

 

I demand an immediate investigation by IKEA management, a review of the security cameras at the self-checkout, and a formal apology for this degrading treatment and destruction of property.

 

 

 

  

THE RECKONING (THE SOCIETY THAT DOES NOT FIT)

 

Listen closely to the echoes of justice. Those who treat the streets like a battlefield and human lives like obstacles are not merely failing a duty; they are betraying the fundamental bond of society. Every reckless act, every moment of cold indifference behind the wheel, is a weight added to a scale that will eventually tip. This isn't just about traffic; it is about the sanctity of life and the heavy price of arrogance. Do not think that shadows or steel provide a permanent shield. Every action leaves a mark, and the consequences of endangering others will be etched into history. When the cycle of accountability finally turns, there will be no excuses left to offer. The legacy of those who choose chaos over compassion will be one of isolation and regret. The time for change is now, as the collective eyes of the people demand a world where safety is a right, not a privilege.

 

right now, in some corner of the heavens, my ancestors are settling the score. They’re giving it to Boro’s ancestors exactly where they deserve it—because in the long run, injustice has never, and will never, win. The debt of history always gets paid.

half of brain missing as if i was shot through the skull by the pwerful beam cannon ... experience was unlike ever before

tentativa de assassinato...talking anatoly bugorski

I have been feeling that a portion of my brain’s missing since the cat scan I had during November 8^th [2025] in the clinical center of Serbia. namely I came in there after a head injury as the heavy old ass parking barrier gate fell on my head. I had a bruise and was feeling dizzy the whole day. while I was waiting in the ER, I was thinking hard whether I said something or if I was recently outspoken criticizing the government with some SM as in the non government controlled press the health minister and the head of the clinical center has been often referred to as Dr. Death after allegedly whacking a patient by giving him a lethal injection per mob's request. the ER was almost empty and, in a moment, approximately five young doctors came in to see me which was unusual esp. since the major one was acting very friendly and sweet. the others were paying close attention. after I was advised to proceed to head scan I told them that the last time I was encapsulated in the sarcophagus like box I had a panic attack. then the nurse said that it most likely was MR and "this now is a cat scan, something fast and different." to cut the story short, after I returned from a head cat scan procedure [that was not that  fast] they were not as sweet as in the first place, their medical report was practically empty as if nothing had happened to me and as if I was not there and as of then I often felt my head was fried or baked, medium rare or well done unsure, and empty like something has been missing on the top and the back of it there. promptly, upon returning to the home premises, the radiation [exposure] reading was 0.24 after i had applied geiger mueller counter to my head and it usually reads 0.10 for the background radiation. 

last minute 1/10/26: almost a month down the line, still feel the scalp is burning in that same region, amen

evil that some serbs do on St. Vasilije of Ostrog Day here in Belgrade – writing after an attack!!!!! May 12, 2025

 ko ovde laže i podmeće ne bilo mu sutrašnjeg dana ... 

until this day i naively believed that some positive force like the freemasons had some say in this land, but presently i am convinced that we live in the worst type of the most wicked lawlessness

as of 2003 when i came to Serbia from the United States, i have been targeted by unknown individuals and crews for reasons unknown to me, one could be that the instigators needed cover-ups in daily politics by alternating public attention and/for creating affairs. all in all, i have been one serbian affair. as such and the talk of the region, they also scared people so much, one clear indicator shows that regular folk are afraid of leaving likes and comments on my social media posts [such as instagram,] and this fear is completely justified in the country with a huge number of randomly positioned pockets of the most backward-minded people on the planet at this point of time.

what Im talking about is that it could not be possible for one person to perform a recent attack in one New Belgrade's high-rise when the attackers sprayed something toxic into the elevator cabin that i called to the eight floor. when I came down to the ground level i saw the guy who could have been the hit-team member. moments later i was intensely choking, spitting out mucus and thinking i was going to die. just a couple of days ago, the unknown attackers smeared something somewhere so i felt my body's response to an infection. at one point, several years ago, after I had written about the pollution caused by public transportation drivers letting off air brakes during bus stops, a great number of mostly Serbian drivers started harassing me throughout Serbia by letting their air brakes off on seeing my vehicle or as I passed by the trucks and busses while walking. it was played out as if they were doing it by chance but by the sheer number of incidents I witnessed - it was obvious that the drivers were doing it intentionally for harassment purposes. Serbian government fully controls public transportation and what goes on in Serbia so it is the government-sponsored harassment being that they zeroed in on me from the moment I entered this country back in 2003; alas, the persecutive harassment was intensified after the current country leadership won the elections back in 2011. I am sure that the United States did not order this Serbian leadership (made up primarily of honest-to-goodness non- or semi-ethnic Serbs, pretending to be fully ethnic for a reason, not gonna lie like it makes any difference) to harass me without a pause. somehow as domestic drivers were replaced by drivers from other countries this harassment subdued significantly and it happens sporadically nowadays. another form of harassment began around a year and a half ago when a multitude of Serbian drivers started engaging their window wipers on seeing me but until today it was all from some distance as well as I can remember. however, today, most likely between 17:30 and 18:00 hrs at 32, marsala birjuzova str. right across the street from the Belgrade’s synagogue - as my car was parked near the road where the driveway begins, at the instance when i was closing the trunk and turning around, someone who exited the nearby public garage ran a silver toyota or skoda hatchback by while engaging wipers on high speed so the window cleaning liquid splashed my tracksuit, head, face, eyes...this most recent attack could have been prearranged, the street was empty, there was no other traffic around, so it was done on purpose. then i made a run home for the shower but with unusually slow traffic it took some time so i suffered the consequences ...

today is also a great Serbian St. Day - St. Vasilije of Ostrog – so if this venerated Church Father blinded the entire attacker’s family, their kiss and kin, and all those that engaged into attacking and harassing me in the months and years behind, I think I would not be able to oppose him…I am entirely helpless in Serbia

i will follow up on this if I can…