Timesuck with Dan Cummins - 445 - Anders Breivik & the 2011 Neo-Nazi Norway Attacks

Episode Date: March 10, 2025

On July 22nd, 2011, Norwegian alt-right gamer Anders Behring Breivik carried out the deadliest attack on Norwegian soil since WW2, when he detonated a car bomb in Oslo and then snuck onto the nearby island of Utoya and opened fire on a large group of teenagers attending a political summer camp. Why did he do this? And how was no one able to stop him? Merch and more: www.badmagicproductions.com Timesuck Discord! https://discord.gg/tqzH89vWant to join the Cult of the Curious PrivateFacebook Group? Go directly to Facebook and search for "Cult of the Curious" to locate whatever happens to be our most current page :)For all merch-related questions/problems: [e-mail] (copy and paste)Please rate and subscribe on Apple Podcasts and elsewhere and follow the suck on social media!! @timesuckpodcast on IG and http://www.facebook.com/timesuckpodcastWanna become a Space Lizard? Click here: https://www.patreon.com/timesuckpodcast.Sign up through Patreon, and for $5 a month, you get access to the entire Secret Suck catalog (295 episodes) PLUS the entire catalog of Timesuck, AD FREE. You'll also get 20% off of all regular Timesuck merch PLUS access to exclusive Space Lizard merch.

The island is beautiful. Situated in Tirraforden, a lake inside the county of Busketsjärn, Norway, it's an incredibly peaceful place where violence is, or at least was, almost completely unheard of. Jatoy was a little heart-shaped piece of paradise, with freshly mowed lawns and a pleasant picturesque campground set amongst dense pine trees and rocky beaches with a small pier and neat buildings. and rocky beaches with a small pier and neat buildings. Back in the 1800s, the island was a croft, a Scottish term for a fence to enclose parcel of land, typically for farming, before politician Jens Bratli bought it in 1893.

He would use it for four decades as his summer residence until 1933, when it was then purchased by the Trade Union Confederation. And then in 1950, the Trade Union Confederation gave the island as a gift to Norway's Labour Party, who would begin holding summer camps for their youth organization, the Workers Youth League or the AUF. It seemed like the ideal spot to gather a bunch of teens, and for decades it truly was. After getting their bags checked for alcohol and drugs, teens would take the old ferry, a former military landing craft,

over to the island and be greeted by cheerful young counselors, many of them teens as well, who were just a year or two older than the campers themselves. Teens who have been coming to the camp now for several years. Once on the island, kids might head to listen to a lecture

given by some government minister, or go to a debate, or simply sit around talking about what they wanted the future to look like. The future of Norway, the future of Europe, the future of the planet. Young idealists hungry to make the world a better place. What a beautiful thing. And their time on the island wouldn't only be serious. They were still after all a bunch of kids. They'd also sing karaoke, go swimming, they'd play football, hold hands, or shyly sneak away for kisses or more for some summer romances.

The older ones, senior leaders, and their early 20s looked after the younger ones. Some as young as 14. So, so many wonderful memories built for so, so long. But on July 22, 2011, the utopia this island had offered kids for over half a century was shattered and forever stained. The first sign that something was wrong in Norway that day came from Oslo, 40 minutes away by car. That afternoon, someone had driven a van to the Tower Block, a government complex that held the Prime Minister's offices, and detonated a massive bomb, crumbling parts of the building,

killing eight and injuring over 200 others. On the island, once news of the blast reached it, some of the kids nervously called home, hoping their parents or friends didn't happen to be in the city center that day. The camp's directors reassured them that there would still be a bonfire that night and that everyone would get to eat as much sausage as they wanted. Yes, it was horrible what had happened in Oslo, but they were still okay. Everything was going to be okay for them. They were safe. But was that really true? The kids mumbled nervously. One 18 year old drew a scary connection. The prime minister was from the Labour Party and they were all at a huge gathering for the Labour Party.

And whoever had detonated that bomb was still at large. What if something happened on the island? What if it would be part of some kind of coordinated attack? But then an armed officer showed up on the island or at least someone the kids assumed was an officer. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief when this man dressed in a police uniform showed up to protect them promising that two more police officers were on their way would be there soon. A few counselors were a bit suspicious. Nobody had told them about the police coming. But then again Oslo was in chaos.

It would turn out that they were right to be suspicious. The policeman was no policeman at all. He was a 32 year old delusioned, angry, racist, mentally unwell failure of a man named Anders Breivik, an alt-right gamer who believed that Norway was being taken over by Muslim immigrants and that he was going to save his nation from losing its culture. He saw himself as a noble white knight, not as a cold-blooded delusional killer of unarmed innocent children as he walked up to the grassy hill on Utoya looking for all the world like a man who was sworn to protect. But then, he opened fire.

And we share this tragic story today on another true crime, misguided, mass murderer. If you see yourself as being the opposite of what the world sees when they look at you, maybe the world is right. Addition of Time Suck. This is Michael McDonald and you're listening to Time Suck. Well happy Monday and welcome to the Cult of the Curious. I'm Dan Cummins, the master sucker., cracker still feeling pretty inspired by Nelson Mandela, guy who had no idea there were so many people named Blaze who listened to the show,

and you are listening to Time Suck. One quick announcement this week and then we are off. The 2025 Cummins Family Scholarship is now open for applications this year. We're able to give four different $5,000 scholarships to members of the Bad Magic community. We are continuing to work with Scholarship America to help make the process smooth and fair.

Head on over to BadMagicProductions.com, click the Bad Magic Family tab in the top right corner of the screen, choose the scholarship tab, and then get started. The application process will close on April 22nd and it is now open to Canadians as well. Big thanks to anyone and everyone who have supported us on Patreon over the years to help make this happen. You make this scholarship possible, space lizards, and I thank you very much. And now we are about to head to Norway. But first, small note on today's Norwegian pronunciations. Holy fuck, I forgot how challenging for me the Norwegian language is.

Even though I spent literally thousands of hours hearing my great grandmother speak Norwegian growing up, literally nothing sunk in, absolutely nothing. I looked up a lot of words this week, heard a lot of native speakers say them over and over, and frequently came to the conclusion of, nope, this mouth don't move that way. And how did those letters equal that sound?

And also, what the fuck even is that letter? So if you're looking for a guide on how to properly pronounce the names of Norwegian places and people, this ain't for you. I feel like I came close on a lot of them, though. But on others, admittedly, totally guessing. So apologies, Norwegian suckers. My butchering of your native tongue does not come from any place of disrespect. Just didn't have quite enough time this week to spend several years attempting to become fluent in your hoingy-boingy language. So impressed that almost all of you speak your very complicated words, to me at least, so beautifully, and also speak English better than me and a lot of Americans, and often

speak a few other languages as well. Well done. I can also attest after traveling to Norway almost two years ago now, that you live in an incredible country, a really beautiful country. Still think about your softest ice cream. Fuck, why is it so good?

A land so rugged and wild, featuring mountains, fjords, waterfalls, glaciers, much more, all maintained and protected by a government that actually truly works for the people. What a wild concept. Norway consistently ranks, I've been fascinated for years about this, consistently ranks among the highest in the world as far as countries for as far as standards of living, excellent public services, low crime rates, strong social welfare system, just happiness.

Norwegian citizens do not need health insurance. No big evil pharma to have to deal with. How about that? If you want it, you can get it. You can jump the line, so to speak, and get certain procedures a bit faster. But if you don't have it, you only pay what amounts to a nominal deductible each year and then everything else is free. You don't have to choose between surviving cancer or going bankrupt. If you're pregnant, 16 and under, you don't pay shit ever for any medical procedures. No tests, no checkups, fucking nothing. And you get better health care than we get here in the US.

You'll see a doctor faster and your doctor on average will be better at doctoring, which has led to a better life expectancy for the average Norwegian citizen and to lower infant mortality rates than here in the US. What? Getting better health care? Then you get here in the US, a nation where you pay thousands a year in private insurance and thousands more if you actually get sick and getting it for either free or damn near free. Is that really true? Oh, it sure is. Also in Norway, fathers are entitled to 10 weeks of paid paternal leave. And new mothers can take up to 59 weeks of paid maternity leave at 80% pay, 80% of their full pay, or 49 weeks at full pay. In the U.S., the U.S. has no federal law that guarantees literally even a day of paid maternity or maternity leave. Why is that? Well, corporate lobbyists making sure Wall Street profits come before families and happiness maybe. Higher education in Norway,

tuition is free for all Norwegian citizens and I can go on and on. Better pensions, better social welfare programs, better lives. But they pay more in taxes, don't they? Nope! That's a bunch of propaganda. Norway's income tax tops out at 39%. America's tops out at 46.8% once you combine state and federal taxes. And again, I could go on. There are so many reasons why Norway consistently ranks way higher than the U.S. in every and any quality of life index you can find. The U.S. and World reports most recent rankings based on broad access to food, housing, quality education, health care, employment, job security, political stability, individual freedom, environmental quality, overall fucking happiness, Norway's fourth in the world.

US? 21st. Right behind Italy. Yeah, even Italy, where you can go to prison even if there's not a shred of evidence you've committed any crime because the magistrate thinks you might be a devil worshiper Who has to have done something less of a shit show when it comes to citizens actually enjoying their lives in America Man, what the fuck? But I digress I just like to share facts like that when I can because I care about my fellow citizens and would love to See them be taken care of you know here in the US like I don't know Norwegians are taken care of

Norway a place known for peace and prosperity care of, you know, here in the U.S. like, I don't know, Norwegians are taking care of. Norway, a place known for peace and prosperity, the envy of much of the world when it comes to individual happiness, at least when you're not talking about the weather, it can easily look like a paradise. A place where the divisiveness, the stress and tension of politics in places like the U.S. and most of the Western world right now doesn't reach, but that's not always true. According to University of Oslo professor of social anthropology Thomas Erickson, there is a fundamental tension in the middle of Norwegian society or has been for years Norwegian nationalism influenced by a national narrative of a country founded on the premise of ethnic and cultural homogeneity. That word is

tricky and it's in English, on one hand and by values associated with inclusion and equality on the other. And I will admit it has been much easier for Norway to be an inclusive nation than it has been for the massive melting pot of a country like the U.S. Pretty easy historically to tout the virtues of equality when you live in a nation where everyone looks like you. But that started to change in the 1980s when Norway became home to more and more asylum seekers, nation where everyone looks like you. But that started to change in the 1980s when Norway became home to more and more asylum seekers beginning with waves of

refugees from countries like Iran, Chile, Iraq, Vietnam, former Yugoslavia. The percentage of immigrants living in Norway increased from only 3% in 1970 to nearly 23% in 2017. And unlike in other European countries, France and Sweden in particular, where immigrants were pushed into ghettos, where crime proliferated and integration seemed impossible, leading to the rise of parallel societies, things did not go that way in Norway. While Sweden, which would see immigrant gang rights in 2013, had the fewest low-wage entry-level jobs in Europe at that time, Norway seemed

to make sure that its immigrants had jobs and material comforts, giving them a lot less incentive to turn to crime. Immigrants in Norway have generally felt wanted and quickly assimilate into and invest in Norwegian society so they don't want to see Norway crash and burn. That isn't to say they don't face issues when it comes to employment or wage gaps, but in general things are better. So where does the tension come from? While you might think this integration is great for Norwegian society as a whole, to a certain kind of alt-right thinker, it is absolutely terrible. This certain kind of alt-right thinker would actually prefer that immigrants stay cloistered into ghettos because the alternative,

that they might actually succeed, that their children might marry Norwegians and make a multicultural society is truly disgusting to them. How dare someone from another country try to date the women I want to date? Women who might, God forbid, prefer them to me. How dare they compete for the jobs I want and make me have to work harder to get them? Why can't I just fuck whoever I want and get whatever job I want, regardless of how much effort I put into my appearance, personality, or work skillset? This incel-like mentality is the mentality of today's subject. Low tier Normie Melvin, Anders Breivik.

What's unusual about Breivik is that he didn't actually focus his campaign of hatred on the immigrants themselves. He focused on the people he perceived had let them in. Members of the liberal government, left-leaning journalists, professors, and the like. And then when it came to his most violent acts, he focused most of his carnage on children. Kids who had come to a political summer camp. Brayvik maintained that these kids were race traitors. Traitors to Norway, traitors to the Aryan race, traders to Christianity, traders to traditional gender roles, and everything else that he felt was perfect about the good old days.

And for that, they deserved to die. In terms of how I will be sharing this story today, nothing fancy in terms of episode structure. Just going to jump into a timeline, beginning with Anders' birth, take it right up to the present day with the most recent information we have on him. As a blog poster, diary writer, all around person obsessed with himself, Anders left a lot of material to gain insight into his fucked up evolution. And that fucked up evolution begins with his birth to a woman who had her very own demons to deal with.

Let us begin. Shrap on those boots, soldier. We're marching down a time suck timeline. Anders Bering Breivik, keep wanting to say Breivik because there's a fucking E after the R, was born on February 13th, 1979 to two white Scandinavian parents. So it was his birthright to have an easy life and get everything and anything he ever wanted. If he were ever to shed a tear or feel even a hint of frustration, it would be the fault of the Browns or the Blacks or of the Beiges or

of the slightly off-whites or creams, but never of the pure whites. His mother was Venko Elizabeth Baring and she had been born in the coastal town of Kraga- Kra- Kra-gara? Okay? Kra-gara! of Kroghara to a builder and a pure white, Ula, Ula Christian Baring, and his pure white wife, Anne Marie Baring, in 1946, one of the purest whitest years on record. She had two older pure white brothers who had been born without incidents, but with her birth there would be problems.

As the birth approached, Anne Marie startedie started getting flu-like symptoms, was confined to bed with paralysis in her arms and legs. Many wondered, had she been secretly impregnated by a non-pure white? Had a brown tainted her? E. Gadd? Had a beige touched her belly with her alien corrupted finger? No. No, it turned out she had polio. A crippling disease with no known cure. She got it before a disgusting, evil vaccine began to be developed by a nefarious scientist. Fuck you, Jonas

Salk. And then it was manufactured by the Illuminati in 1955. A vaccine that poisoned children and maybe, but definitely not, gave them autism or something instead of polio. Which even if that was true, wouldn't that be better to get autism and maybe be really good at math instead of being paralyzed or dead? Prior to 1955, the polio virus killed or paralyzed over a half million people every year and that's what we want again today. Anyway, Venco was delivered by C-section in 1946. By then Anne-Marie was almost completely immobile from the waist down.

Venko was sent to an orphanage as soon as she was born. She fucked her mama's legs up on purpose and she spent the first five years of her life there. And that actually is really sad. At the age five the orphanage shut down and Venko was brought back to live with her parents. Her father was always working and her mother, afraid now to go in public, worried she would be mocked for her physical disabilities, locked herself in a room and hated her children, especially her youngest daughter who, you know, gave her polio. So, you know, good times at home. Venko was alone most of the time while her brothers went out, did pure white

bro things. She stayed in a dilapidated house with no running water. At the age of eight, her father, father Ula died and now Venko found herself more alone than ever and more miserable. Her mom Anne-Marie truly did blame her for giving her polio because she was mentally insane. When she I don't know why I added the word mentally. I was gonna say mentally unwell and then I added insane which is a weird combo. She was mentally insane as if there's a different kind of insane. She was she was physically insane. Her body was crazy! Anyway, but Annemarie, you know, did blame her for giving her polio. When she did move around she would use two stools to drag

herself across the floor, a sound that Venko grew to hate. In addition to being the bane of her mom's existence, Venko was required to keep things in the house in order. Washing, cleaning, including the chamber pot under the bed she shared with her mom. Two older brothers, they didn't have the same responsibilities. They were also quick to torment her. One left home when their father died, but the other stayed, beat her so often

that the skin behind her ears was constantly raw. He also loved to thrash her legs with stinging nettles, and Venka would often hide behind the stove when her brother came home or was after her since he couldn't reach her there. Other times she would simply stay out of the house even if that meant she had to wet herself because she couldn't go inside to use the bathroom. Because of this, because she was never allowed to invite anyone home, she had no friends. Her family was seen as creepy and strange by neighbors and townsfolk, people to avoid at all costs. In addition to suffering from polio, Venko's mother was also very mentally ill.

She was mentally insane and physically insane. When Venko was a teenager, her mom began to complain about hearing voices in her head and she was becoming more and more paranoid. She also expected Venko to stay and care for her the rest of her life, but Venko decided, nope, fuck that. She was 17, 1963, she packed a suitcase and left for Oslo rest of her life. But Venko decided, nope, fuck that. She was 17, 1963. She packed a suitcase and left for Oslo and she never returned to live at home. She got a job in Oslo as a cleaner at a hospital. Then later she got a job at the U-Borg Brewery in Copenhagen in Denmark.

Then worked for a bit as an au pair in Strausberg. After five years working, and then she came back to Oslo. And after five years working in Os Oslo she moved and trained as an auxiliary nurse in Porshgun, a town about an hour away from her hometown of Krakow and got a job at a hospital in the neighboring town of Skeen. To her surprise her co-workers actually liked her. She was a hard worker, quick, clever, quite funny. Then when she was 26 she got pregnant by a Swedish dude who then asked her to get an abortion, but she insisted on having the baby and would give birth to a daughter named Elizabeth in 1973.

Dad won't stick around or help financially, and now she's a single mom. Couple years later, she made her first visit to her hometown since she'd left as a teen. When she returned, she found her mom to be seriously ill. According to case notes, she was suffering from powerful paranoid delusions and hallucinations. She needed help, but Venko had no interest in being the one to help her, after how she

had been treated growing up. And she returned to Oslo. Back in Oslo, she and Elizabeth would now move around frequently, always trying to move to a nicer place, often moving to nicer districts within Oslo, even if Venko couldn't necessarily afford it. Living well, even if it meant getting behind on rent and going into debt on credit cards, was her shield against the judgments of the outside world. She was always smartly dressed, had her hair done when she went out favoring high-heeled shoes and fitted dresses over something more casual. She soon ended up in an apartment in a neighborhood called

Frogner. One day in the basement laundry room, she met her upstairs neighbor, a newly divorced diplomat in the Norwegian Foreign Office, a pure white, back in his homeland after posting London and Tehran. They made for an odd match. It was 43, gaunt with thinning hair, not exactly a looker. She was 32, slim, pretty, and blonde. And they hit it off. At least they hit it off well

enough to hook up frequently. And Jen's would send Venko a couple of love letters. Still, Venko didn't see herself having a future with this man, not at first. There were things she liked about him. He could be kind and generous. He was tidy, took his job seriously. But he was also sulky. He wanted everything done his way, was incapable of taking other people's feelings into account. She told herself that she probably shouldn't get too involved with him in case she wanted to call things off, but then biology threw a wrench in that plan. Venko got pregnant. Now the two got married at the Norwegian Embassy in Bonn. He stayed for a week attending a conference while she stayed for just two days. Then she went back to Oslo to retrieve her daughter from the

friend who was watching her. And at first it seemed like things were gonna go well in this marriage. Vanco could start to see herself in a lasting partnership with the man who after all, he really didn't know that much about before she got together with him, or before she had the kid with him. But within a month or two she became wracked with doubts and no longer wanted the baby. Jen's didn't seem like much of a father when his three children from his previous marriage came to visit. He was distant and cold towards them. So now Venko decides to get an abortion. A new law gave Norwegian women an unlimited

right to abortions up to the 12th week of pregnancy. But Venko waited too long to make up her mind and now she has to have the baby. A baby she wants less and less as her pregnancy wears on. And just like her mother hated her before she was even born, blaming her for her polio, she grows to hate her unborn baby blaming it for her unhappiness. As her morning sickness progresses, she begins to say things to friends like, it's as if he kicks me on purpose to torment me. Psychologists reports later state that she thought that Breivik was, before he was even born, a quote, fundamentally nasty and evil child, determined to destroy her.

Sounds like her mind was now working about as well as her mom's mind had been working. The baby of Boy was due on February 4th, 1979, but he was nine days overdue when Venko delivered him at Auker Hospital, February 13th, 1979. Venko was horrified when her baby came out with a distinct bluish tone to his skin. She thought something was wrong with him, maybe due to the pain meds she had taken during labor. Then she would tell her friends later that the birth process was dreadful, that it was disgusting to have her husband there with her. Gens, on the other hand, thought he was a fine boy. But he hadn't prepared for the baby's arrival. There was no changing

table, for example, at the apartment, and Venko had to change his diapers on the bathroom floor. When their new baby was six months old, Jens Breivik was appointed a counselor at the Norwegian Embassy in London. He went over first. Venko followed with the kids around Christmas of 1979. Jens, Venko, Elizabeth, and Anders, it's unclear if Jens' other children came as well, lived in a flat now in Prince's Gate, a huge apartment, but Venko hated it. While Elizabeth attended school, Venko stayed home with her baby boy and an au pair, growing increasingly unhappy. Jen's, for his part, felt like Venko was using him, but she'd wanted a man with stability and a good job to provide for her, but she didn't actually

love him. And then, making matters worse, by the spring of 1980, Venko had fallen deep into a postpartum depression and one day she started packing her bags. But then, three days after she left, she told her husband she wanted to take the children home. Reluctantly, he agreed and then she almost immediately left again and she traveled to Oslo where she quickly filed for divorce. Following her divorce, she now had two children to raise on her own. She didn't have any contact with her family, her divorce she now had two children to raise on her own. She didn't have any contact with her family, her mom or her two older brothers. She still has zero contact with Elizabeth's dad. Through a lawyer, Gens does agree to pay child support and allow Venka, Elizabeth and Anders to live in his flat in Fritzner's gate for two years. But things are

still tough financially and Venko takes her frustrations out on Anders, claiming he is a clingy, whiny child prone to violent moods. At night she starts to leave her children alone more and more frequently to take a night shift at work or to go out and party with friends. She continues to leave her kids unattended even after neighbors confront her. But then in May of 1981 when Anders is two she calls social services and asks if she can have a support worker for the kids. In July, she applies for weekend care, kind of a part-time foster program, for both Anders and Elizabeth. In October of 81, weekend respite care is approved for Anders.

Now he is handed off to a sort of a part-time foster family for a weekend, twice a month, like, you you know two weekends a month, a newly married couple in their 20s. And this couple immediately comes to the conclusion that Venko is batshit crazy. Why? Well for starters she asked her son's new weekend dad if Anders could occasionally touch his dick. Yeah you heard that right. She literally asked her son's new foster dad if it would be cool if he got to examine his cock and balls from time to time. Why? Because it was important for the boy's sexuality to develop with a role model. I mean, how would he possibly ever know what to do with his own dick?

If he didn't get a good gander at what his dick was going to look like when it became full-grown. Venko said he'd only seen girls parts and didn't know how the male body worked. Apparently Venko had never heard of, oh, I don't know a fucking anatomy book Foster couple were floored, but too embarrassed to report Instead they took Anders out to the forest in the countryside to parks and playgrounds around the city They thought he was a nice little boy and they never even once let him look at or play with daddy's ding-a-ling or fucking nutsack. And maybe that pissed Vanco off because one weekend Vanco didn't turn up with Anders. She decided that their home was not a suitable home for her son. Mother difficult to please keeps demanding more, Social Services

Office recorded in May of 1982. Indeed the month before that report, Vanco had gone to the foster home section of the child welfare office to look into the possibility of having both children fostered. Why? Well, because they were grinding her gears. She wanted them to quote, she wanted them to quote, go to the devil, she told the counselors. That's what she's saying to social services. Where do you want your kids to go? To the devil! Oh, okay. Well, you know, we'll look into that. I'm not sure we can do. That's what she was casually saying to the people working at the child welfare office.

Imagine what she is saying at home to them. And sorry if my mouth is a little more off than normal. I've got this stupid head cold right now where I have this like some kind of inflammation in the back of my throat that makes it feel like your ears are full and it just makes like certain sounds a little trickier to make. Anyway, I'm you probably didn't even notice now you probably will. I probably should have never said shit. When that fall and its high latitude darkness arrived life got darker for Anders and his sister both literally and figuratively. In October, Venko checked herself into the Frogner Medical Center.

Mother seems severely depressed, they note. Thinking of just walking out on the children and leaving them to society to live her own life. God, I can't imagine, I mean, I guess I'm lucky that I haven't dealt with serious mental illness that I'm aware of. Maybe I have, I don't know. But I just can't imagine saying that to my fucking kids, or even

about my kids. To like professionals. You know what? I'm just, these fucking idiots. I'm sick of their shit. And I just, you know what? I just want to go out and live my own life. I mean sure, in brief fantasies over the years, I'm like, God, I just want to fucking live on an island by myself. Like in little quick little moments, but not really. She's actually saying that to people. Venko and the children had now been living in Anders father's flat in Fritzner's gate for just over two years. The period she and Jens had agreed to was now over and he wants his apartment back and that's not helping her stress. As Christmas approaches Venko hits rock bottom. She finds that she can't bring herself to control or discipline her kids,

especially Anders, who probably didn't care anymore what his mom thought of him. He would hit her and his sister Elizabeth. If she told him off he'd smirk. If she shook him he would shout it doesn't hurt it doesn't hurt. This is what she's saying at least. Thankfully thanks to Jen's membership at the Oslo Housing and Savings Society, Venko and her children get the opportunity to live in a new apartment building called Silk and Straw designed specifically for families with young children. The new apartment had five bright, airy rooms and outside there was a play area and a garden. But still, Fanko didn't want her kids anymore. And now before we learn

what happens next in Anders' childhood, time for this week's first of two mid-show sponsor breaks. Maybe not the ideal break spot, but the best spot I could find for this section of the show. If you don't want to hear these ads, if you want to help us with donations each month, our scholarship and more, sign up on Patreon, get the entire catalog ad free and more. Okay, now let's head to 1983. Find out what Anders' not-not-so-great-mom is up to. At the start of the new year in 1983, Venko contacted the Family Counseling Service at the Oslo Health Board and asked for a new respite care placement for her son. She claimed she was having trouble doing

practically anything with him, like dropping him off at daycare, frogging her park literally within walking distance from her flat, or fetching him in the afternoon. It was so hard to walk a few blocks and drop her son off for other people to take care of him for the day while she just went home and did not work. And it was nearly impossible to walk back later and pick him up. Come on, someone help her out. She said Anders ran off constantly.

And he was at school. She got frequent calls from teachers expressing their concerns. He wasn't making friends. He wasn't crying. If he hurt himself, he mostly made up his own games. He played by himself and ignored the other kids. So he's off Venko now wants her son to receive a psychoval. She wants to know You know if this little inkling she'd had about her son not being right from the moment before he was even born Was correct. So two weeks before Andrew's fourth birthday at the end of January 1983

the family is called in for an evaluation at the Center for Child and Adolescent Psychiatry and it is quickly determined that Venko is the one who needs attention, like professional attention. Neighbors had noticed for years that she often spoke at them instead of to or with them, laughing at her own jokes, slurring her own words, making body jokes even in front of their own kids. When she arrives at the Center for Child and Adolescent Psychiatry she is confused, she's on edge, the family is split up for observation and specialists observe that Anders seems to take no joy in life, that he participates

mechanically in activities and often looks very sad, that he is you know weirdly tidy for a little guy, like you know very kind of OCD, everything has to be just so, worried about making messes, worried about things not being proper and perfect. After a couple of days though, he seems to get better, he relaxes, he accepts praise from staff, he seems proud of himself for learning some new skills, he's opening up, and psychologists determine that nothing's wrong with him. It's his home life that's causing his strange behavior. It's mom. Meanwhile, Venko's report states, quote, this pure white lady is sure quite crazy. Or it said,

quote, she is threatened by chaotic conflicts and shows signs of illogical thought when under pressure. Mentally, she has a borderline personality disorder and functions very unevenly. Given a structured situation for living, she can function well, but she is vulnerable in a crisis. So she really doesn't handle stress well, and her life is pretty stressful. They noted that Vanco's behavior towards Anders can change rapidly and without warning. One moment she'll be pleasant and kind, only to start shouting aggressively at him and the next. And her rejections can be brutal. The staff at the center heard her yell at her four-year-old son, quote, I wish you were dead. And again, if she is saying that in front of a psychiatric staff,

what the fuck is she saying to him at home? Uh, families would be usually be discharged from the center after a four week observation period. And at the end of the month, it was recommended that Andrew should definitely be placed in foster care and taken away from his mom full time. As in, let's get this kid away from this lady as fast as fucking possible before she breaks him. And it seemed as if Venko was in agreement and ready to let him, you know, go and live with another family. But then shit hits the fan once again.

And her father, Jens Breivik, who is now stationed in Paris, well he receives the report from the Center for Child and Adolescent Psychiatry about his son and through his lawyer he demands custody. And then Venko, who had welcomed the prospect of weekend respite care, now refuses point-blank to accept any help at all since it might give her ex-husband an advantage in court. So she's using her kid as a pawn, putting her ego in front of his needs. Now everything is in the hands of the Oslo City Court. There is nothing that social services can do for Anders except testify at trial. And in October of 1983, the court rules that Anders' situation does not require urgent action,

and that the boy can live with his mom until the father decides to sue for custody formally. But then Jen simply gives up. So what a shit show. He does not make any effort to get custody of his nearly five-year-old son now. Still, a young psychologist does not want to give up on Anders. Ardid Jertson asks the child welfare authorities to take Anders into care emphasizing that Anders mental state can seriously and irreversibly deteriorate if he stays with mom. Then in November Venko's lawyer accuses this psychologist of victimizing Venko and there is nothing more that anybody can

really do especially when Frogner Park Nursery writes a report saying that Anders was a cheerful happy boy. Allegedly a report written by a friend of Venko's who worked there. And now Venko appears at least to the outside world to be getting her act together. Three welfare checks, welfare checks will be carried out. One with notice, two unannounced in the winter of 1984. And the reports say that Venko appears organized, tidy, and in control. The 1984 and the reports say that Venko appears organized, tidy, and in control. The report's only objection is that Venko had sent her kids out for pizza and they were quote possibly a bit young to run that sort of errand and one might add that pizza can scarce to

be called a nutritious meal. Well if that's true there were so many meals I received growing up that were not nutritious. Around mid-summer 1984 now the the Child Welfare Board reaches its unanimous verdict. It is not necessary to take Anders into care and the case is now dismissed. The system had failed Anders. Around this time a number of unsold flats at a housing development called Stilkenstraw were bought up by the Oslo City Council and allocated to refugee families. Asylum seekers from Iran, Eritrea, Chile, Somalia, they moved into the flats around the blue, green, and red gardens, and gradually the scents of garlic,

turmeric, allspice, and saffron drifted out through open balcony doors. This was a sharp departure from life before, which had been exceedingly white, pure white, and now there were like these other colors around. Pretty gross off-white colors. Cannot imagine walking out my front door and seeing non-whites in real life. Not just on the news. My god, I just fucking shivered and got goosebumps. I suddenly don't feel safe. I feel queasy. I feel like I need to speak to the manager,

but I'm not in a store. Everyone knows I'm being facetious, right? Facetious, such a good word. Probably describes my sense of humor better than any other single word. This new living situation really was a shock for the Breiviks. At the start of the 1970s, Norway had fewer than a thousand non-Western immigrants in the entire nation. 1971 saw the first influx of foreign workers as the Norwegian state tackled a chronic labor shortage by issuing an invitation to Pakistan. Six hundred single men came over to work that year, taking jobs that most Norwegians did not want, living in cramped and uncomfortable parts of the city, and sometimes—and you might want to sit down before you hear this next part in case you pass out—sometimes

these—how should I say this?—these Browns, they would date and even fuck pure white Norwegian women, aka snow pusses. That's what Norwegian women are sometimes called, right? Snow pusses? I'm pretty sure I've heard that somewhere and didn't just make that up to be ridiculous. Years later, when more refugees arrived, 1988, chased around more snow pusses. Four years before the brivics lived in their midst. They weren't just single workers but often families. People who brought over their own bicycles. People trying to set

themselves and their kids up for better lives. One such family, pretty brown family, was Chilean. They lived below the brivics. Anders liked them, especially a little girl two years younger than him. Her name was Eva and they became fast friends. And there goes the neighborhood! Anders just five years old. He started waiting for his little non-white friend every day after school, especially after he left nursery school for Smysta.

An altogether different environment of blue-blooded prep school boys and the occasional member of the royal family. A fancy little school. Perhaps to feel like he too was blue-blooded and superior, Anders became a bit of a bully here. He broke the heads off of neighbors' flowers through stones through open windows, as though to prove he was a rightful member of the upper class. He would bully kids who were smaller than him, especially refugees who did not speak Norwegian and had darker skin. One of his victims was a little boy through a, or little boy from Eritrea. One time Anders rolled was a little boy through a, or little boy from a Eritrea.

One time Anders rolled the boy up in a rug, or Eritrea, there we go, and jumped up on him or jumped on him over and over, which actually is pretty brutal. Could have killed that kid. Eva told him not to do this, but she was powerless to stop him. Adults couldn't do much either since when the kids would get scolded, Anders would simply just creep away, head home, whereas mom wouldn't discipline him. She was kind of checked out and then he would just come back later when things had calmed down. 1987, the year Anders started at Smistad, the Labour Party returned to power. The conservative Prime Minister, Carrette Vlach, had failed to win the support of

the right-wing Progress Party after voting to increase gas prices. And suddenly a woman named Gru Harlem Brundtland was prime minister again. She'd been prime minister before 1981, having been nominated to replace the retiring prime minister as Norway's first woman to have the job. She had fought to remove barriers to advancement for working class people and anyone marginalized like women and minorities. Gross. So she was fucking woke. And I hope she gets killed in this story now. No. Then when the general election came up in 1981, despite being a replacement, she was still half to run and she found herself with fierce opponents who labeled her a shrew. Stickers

started appearing in windows that said kick her out. Became a popular Norwegian slogan. Kick her out! Kick out the shrew shrew oh teacher how dare a woman want to be a leader uh labor had failed to win the vote in 1981 but now she was back and better prepared she became the first head of government in the world to form a cabinet with as many female ministers as male ones and for some reason the country didn't fucking fall into ruin incredible eight out of the 17 cabinet's posts plus herself at the top were women. And somehow Norway survives this. Through her policies, Gru set up to make life more practical for families, her government extended maternity leave, built nurseries, gave more rights to single parents. Boo! Work all the time or die commies! The

state feminism drew sharp criticism from many in Norway. The term vagina state was coined and tossed around a bunch. Nice! Oh, fuck yeah bro. Totally. If women take a position of power, talk about their vaginas as much as possible. As if having a sexual innie instead of an outie makes them inferior, because it does. Misogyny!

If you don't like it, you're woke. Okay? And if you go woke, you're woke. Okay, and if you go woke You go broke and if you if you go broke you stay Woke and are a joke I'm not exactly sure what all the woke rules are all the woke talk. I find very confusing in recent years Anders was almost certainly exposed to this mindset at his school and he tried to embody it but not consistently It took him a while to let go with any empathy and compassion of others and devolve into cowardly lynch mob hatefulness.

For example, he did bully the only Pakistani kid in his class, a boy named Ahmed, but then one day Ahmed hit him back and the two became best friends once they actually talked and got to know each other funny how that works. Now they ran around the forest, played basketball together, watched movies together. It was almost like once Anders took a second to see him as another human being and not as another, he realized that a lot in common. For Anders this kind of push and pull will be a constant in his life. Feeling superior, which would mean alienated as many people under him as possible, or not being an intolerant dick and making friends he keeps vacillating back and forth between these two things and for the time being

he chooses to have friends. Eventually he will leave his mostly white mostly upper-class school to attend a secondary school the age of 13 in 1992. This new school called Reese was on the well-to-do west side of Oslo and the students came from a variety of backgrounds. Anders didn't know any of them, and he was able to reinvent himself, and he will choose a new identity. In the early 90s, Oslo was full of graffiti, distinctive names painted in lurid colors, and Anders wanted to see his own art amongst the other art. To become a tagger, you needed a name, and ideally it would not be your own, since you would be more easily caught and fined.

Anders picked a name. He chose a character from Marvel Comics. In one comic he had this, the universe is ruled by the all-powerful Galactus. Formerly a mortal man, Galactus is a cosmic entity who consumes planets to sustain his life force. He is introduced, created by former Suck Subject Stan Lee actually, along with Jack Kirby, as a godlike figure that fed by draining living planets of their energy and as a being who operated without regard to the morality or judgments of mortal beings. Anders will later operate without regard to the morality or judgment of mortal beings himself.

One of Galactus' henchmen was a man who had betrayed his own race by executing his own people and that got Galactus' attention and respect. That character's name was Morgue. And Anders picks the name of Morgue for his tagger name. So a little bit of foreshadowing. Clearly he's already struggling with his feelings toward immigrants and feelings towards, you know, his own people and how they are accepting immigrants. Anders fit in with some other amateur taggers. One boy called himself Wick, another Spock, then there was Ahmed, his old buddy from elementary school.

Anders loved tagging. He liked how it differentiated him from the preppy kids at his high school, most of whom were aiming to become doctors, lawyers, executives. Also gained him those same kids' respect to be known as a troublemaker. So he has friends and he's feeling superior. The perfect combo for Anders. Within the greater world of graffiti artists, however, Anders is still a toy,

aka a novice. The artists at the top are called kings and they tagged in the riskiest places in the center of town where he could easily be arrested if he weren't careful. As a toy, Anders mainly helped, you know, establish or more established graffiti artists. He would like work as a lookout for them. After getting arrested a few times, not snitching, he started getting some more clout and people started to know him for his tags. He practiced constantly, got pretty good, but the higher-ups in his tagging group still did not feel like he was worthy of being a king. Morg, they said, even though he

hadn't yet graduated to become a king king was acting like it though and now some of them started to make fun of him and soon none of his old group of taggers would hang out with him anymore. Spock and Wick they bail on him, Ahmed has no clout and now Anders is once again almost alone. He got too arrogant and it cost him most of his friends but he didn't let that get him down. He doubled down on acting like a king by tagging over some local king's graffiti. And now this makes Anders a target of relentless bullying by both taggers and non-taggers alike. His favorite phrases are mocked, caricatures appear on his face, exaggerating his nose. Now he's the scourge of the community he had gotten his first taste

to having a little bit of clout in. In response, Anders starts lifting weights religiously, twice a day most days, and still tags relentlessly. But then after getting arrested, when he came back home from Denmark where he'd visited his dad, where paint was sold cheaply, his father officially cuts ties with him, which seems a bit extreme. Wonder if there was more to it, or if his dad really was like, that's it! If my son refuses to stop spray painting on the property of others, I guess I don't have a fucking son! Whatever happened, Anders was arrested again

shortly thereafter for tagging a bridge at Storo in the north of Oslo, and has to pay 3000 Kroner and that pushes him out of tagging and into a different kind of art. He starts attending Harvick-Niesen, an upper secondary school specializing in drama. He's elected class representative, but still feels like he's a misfit and leaves after a year.

He next attends Oslo Commerce School, where he changes his look to slim fit Levi's and polo shirts, starts acting preppy. Outside of school around this time, he gets a part-time job as a telephone salesman for Tellia, when she pushes everything from hunting, fishing, and music magazines to scratch cards, something called wine calendars, and crime fiction. He proves to have a flair for sales, but soon is working mainly on the customer service side of things because he handles complaints so well. So he's doing well in this job. He also starts buying stocks on Norway's stock market, the Oslo Stock Exchange, and one day he makes 200,000 Kroner in one transaction.

It inspires him to carry on trading in shares and he starts taking an increasing number of days off of school to do this. Soon he is hardly attending classes and just before Christmas is in his final year he sends a letter to his school informing them he's done. Mom is pissed. Why would he leave six months before his final exams? Well, Anders tells her the school is slowing him down, holding him back. He's making so much fucking money. He quits his job in telephone sales, sets up his own business. Before quitting, however, he took a database of foreigners in Norway from work, people he called priority A customers, the heavyweights.

He now had starting capital of a hundred thousand kroner for his new company, Behring and Kerner Marketing, and he's gonna run this company with a friend. And that a hundred thousand Kroner translates to about nine thousand US dollars by the way so it's not actually that much money. This new business of his is pretty much the same business as telephone sales he was working in before and since nobody trusts two teenagers the venture goes under in about a year and now Anders has to go back to his old job which was probably not good for Zico. Slowly he starts saving money for a new business. He wants to set up databases of rich people, potential investors, then sell those databases

to interested parties. But he can't figure out how to come up with all the info on the rich people he needs. So he tables that, decides he's going to go into advertising. Goes into business with a kid named Christian that he knew from his neighborhood, another pure white, and he runs a small office with a law firm or from a law firm. The advertising business does not take off though and Anders has to sell it to a billboard company for the same amount he had put into it, so at least he breaks even. Then Christian goes to work for that billboard company and now Anders works on his next idea. Advertising placards could be mobile.

Then you wouldn't have to pay anything for the site because the street is free. So he plans to hire unemployed academics to cycle around the city with placards fixed to a trailer. He makes a prototype in the basement at home, negotiates a contract with Platt & Companyet, this chain of music and DVD stores in Norway. I'm butchering their name I'm sure. The contraption was sent out on its rounds, but the construction was not solid enough, and the placard blows over on the very first day injuring a woman and the business folds. I love that. I have a great idea. I want to make this big heavy sharp edge sign and tape it to this cart that you're going to fucking drive around town and it's going to be

fantastic. Okay, okay, but what if it flies off? Couldn't it hit and really hurt someone? I doubt it! Let's worry about that if and when it becomes a problem. And then day one. Shit! Her head is pretty dented and fucked up. It has become a problem. Now broken with no degree. Zero good ideas, but wanting immense recognition for his minimal talent. What does Anders turn to next? Politics. Oh fuck yeah. Those who can't do want to be put in charge of telling others what they can do. And I know not all politicians are shit. But some of them are. Anders now joined Norway's conservative party, the Progress Party, at age 18 in

1997. Let's learn a little bit about this party. The Progress Party was founded in 1973 by Anders Lange, a forestry technician who was critical of the welfare state. The party was originally named Anders Lange's Party for a Strong Reduction in Taxes, Duties, and Public Intervention. But then someone's like, holy fuck that's a dumb name for a political party. It was way too long. Not easy to repeat at all one focus of this Party was reducing the amount of welfare available to mothers What a what a great thing to have is your focus that says a lot about them

They sound super cool. So sick of all these moms getting help for their babies. Fuck these babies and fuck these moms Someone's got put a stop to this shit. Anders, the guy, the other Anders who started this party said, quote, no one who has a good time with their husband in bed deserves financial help as a result. But what about the sperm donor in that situation? Those Melvins never seem to look in that direction. This guy was succeeded as party chairman by Carl Iverhagen, who changed the name to the Progress Party, a lot better name, also established the party's youth organization, Progress Party Youth. But his criticism of the government spending became unpopular, as most people could see declines in infrastructure, schools, social services, long lines at the hospitals,

things that, you know, tax money would be needed to fix. And for a long time this party was not very popular at all. But then in 1987 the party changes its focus to immigration. That year Hagen got a letter quote unquote from a Kurdish man named Muhammad Mustafa. The letter was dated July 8th 1987 and read as follows. To Carl Hagen from Muhammad Mustafa. this country will be Muslim. We give birth to more children than you and several true believing Muslims arrive in Norway every year men in productive age. One day the infidel cross and the flag shall go away." Now this was of course deeply unnerving to many and a very stupid letter for Mustafa to send, right? We're taking over motherfuckers trying to stop us if he sent it but he didn't.

This was bullshit. The tabloid newspaper Verdant's Gang soon claimed they could prove this letter was false and they did. The letter was signed with a full name and address. The newspaper they were able to contact Mohammed Mustafa to investigate this. He denied having sent the letter and also pointed out that he didn't live in the address mentioned the letter for like well over a year. It wasn't in his handwriting. There was all kind of problems. Regardless, the letter you know works regarding its intended year. It wasn't in his handwriting, there was all kind of problems. Regardless, the letter, you know, works regarding its intended purpose. It sells, you know, a lot of fear and paranoia in Norway. The Progress Party almost doubles its share of votes for

1987's local elections, gaining 12% of the vote in the big cities where immigration was highest. The party polls between 15 and 20% higher. A decade later, 1996, the year before Breivik joins the Progress Party, it had turned its rhetoric against immigrants in the direction of critique of Islam more broadly. In Hagen's view, Muslim refugees had taken no decisive steps towards integration and instead had turned towards fundamentalism. For his part, perhaps because of the friends he'd had as a kid, young Anders more cautious about his critiques of Islam. On Progress Party Youth Forums, he wrote something very intelligent and fair actually. He wrote, it's important to make the point that Islam is a great religion on a level with Christianity

and that Muslims are generally good people on a level with Christians. He stressed that it was certain aspects of negative cultures related to Islam that should be criticized, not Islam itself. Now let's jump five years ahead, the timeline to 2002, when Anders is 23. 2003 will be an election year. And by the summer of 2002, Anders and his new friend slash girlfriend, Lene Langermur, Norwegian girl who'd been adopted as a baby from New Delhi, India,

so a non-white brown, were excitedly attended meetings. Anders in particular wanted to be on the list for city council elections the following year. First local branches would submit suggestions to the nomination committee, then the candidates under consideration would be called in for an interview by this committee. Jürgen Kalmur, Anders' colleague and the leader for the Progress Party youth, gets a call for an interview. So does Lien, his girlfriend, but Anders, pure white, not brown, does not. What is happening? Throughout the fall he waits as he assumes the party searches through

his backlog of nominations. Perhaps it is still coming. Just before Christmas 2002, the final nomination list comes out. Anders still not on it. Jürgen gets voted onto the council. Lean is elected as a substitute member. Soon Jürgen will be bumped to the council. Lien is elected as a substitute member. Soon, Jürgen will be bumped up to become secretary to a local government commissioner and Lien will be made a regular member and Anders is still on the outside, nothing. Now, he begins to become more extreme. Possibly to get noticed and approved of. Possibly just because he's fucking angry and bitter.

He's spouting the kind of harsh rhetoric now that he previously disavowed. In one of his last posts in the summer of 2003, Anders predicts civil war once the Muslims are in the majority of Norway. The Islamization of the West is alarming, he says. He also decides that politics, not for him, he's going to go back into the private sector with an even more insane idea. It has struck him a year or so earlier, possibly due to his own lack of a degree, that there was a market for fake diplomas. And in autumn of 2002 he sets up a website called Diplomaservices.com.

So a bullshit diploma mill, a blatant scam, a grift, starts heading down a dark path. He also opens the websites bestfakediploma.com and superfakedegree.com. And through these sites you can get a bachelor's, a master's, even a doctorate diploma in the field of your choice. master's, even a doctorate diploma in the field of your choice. Quote, receive a high quality fake diploma within 10 days, says the headline in bold italics. The cost is around $100 US per diploma with a complete package with an exam certificate

plus diploma available for $295. Anders will pass on the request to a forger in Indonesia, who he pays a monthly salary of 700 USD a month. And as insane as this might sound, this idea makes money. Hundreds of thousands of dollars pour into accounts and tax havens like Antigua and Barbuda, St. Vincent and the Bahamas, where Anders will not have to pay taxes on this money. He receives anonymous credit cards that let him make withdrawals in Oslo without detection. To cover his bases the company says that their diplomas are only to be used as props or replacements for lost diplomas but of course that was not why people were shelling out hundreds of

bucks for them. These things look very real. They wanted to scam people with the new money he's making Anders moves into a flat his mom will come over to clean and do his laundry for which Anders will pay her a couple thousand kroner a month. How good did that make him feel? Right? Mommy dearest now working for him and doing basic labor at that. He must have loved it. He's the big man now. Because his Indonesian employee doesn't speak excellent English or Norwegian, he hires a Norwegian named Mads Madsen. Yeah, Mads Madsen or Mads Madsen to perform customer service for his company, which he now names E-commerce Group. But then in the summer of 2004, Norwegian employee Mads resigns.

Soon after, Mads is contacted by a reporter looking for info on fake diploma mills operated in Norway. Apparently, Andrew's company was registered in Mads' name. Mads denies having anything to do with this company, but the story makes its way to the Norwegian government and the Justice Department asks the director of public prosecution to assess e-commerce groups legal status. The day after the article ran is the day of the general election. It was a good one for the Progress Party. They won 22% of the vote, but the Labor Party did better and entered into negotiations to form a coalition with the Socialist Left and the Center Party. Together the parties advocate a platform of putting the brakes on privatization,

putting stricter regulations on market forces, bigger fines for financial misdemeanors, and higher taxes on share profits. Anders is furious about all this and hires an accountant to protect himself. Over the course of 2005, his family life, never satisfying, becomes even lonelier. His half-sister, Elizabeth, she gets married, moves to Los Angeles, California.

She's out in Hollywood now working on showbiz. His non-white girlfriend has left him. He's fucking alone. He plans to spend Christmas in 2005 with his mom, just the two of them. But a few days before, Venko had run into her second cousin, Jan, who had invited her to his house for Christmas. And at Jan's house, Anders makes an amazing discovery. Jan is a Freemason.

After a lot of begging, Jan finally agrees to introduce Anders to the chairman master of the Pillars for an interview. And that winter Anders is shown around the Freemasons headquarters. A magnificent high roofed hall with murals on the ceiling, suits of armor and banners lining the corridors. Pretty badass, he loves it. And he thinks, oh man, if I can become a Mason, I will be so superior.

And now before we find out if he does become a Freemason, I'm going to take today's second in two mid-show sponsor breaks. Thanks for listening to those sponsors. Now let's return to late 2005 and find out if Anders gets what he wants. After Anders has his Freemason interview, he is told that it's a complicated process and that they, you know, he would hear back from them at some point down the road. He doesn't leave with a good feeling about this. Seems like a repeat of the whole election nomination process where he just gets left on the outside. In February 2006, he stops his diploma business, worried that he's going to be prosecuted. He buys some stock shares, then the stock market falls for most on the outside. In February 2006, he stops his diploma business worried that he's gonna be prosecuted.

He buys some stock shares, then the stock market falls for most of the spring. Then in May, share prices plummet, his cash reserves dwindle. Most of his money is tied up in shares. Now he can't sell those shares without taking a tremendous loss. And so, Andrews decides now to move back home

at the age of 27 to live with mom in the summer of 2006, not feeling very superior. He's no live with mom in the summer of 2006. Not feeling very superior. He's no longer hiring mom to clean his undies. He's living in her place. And he has not heard back still about joining the Freemasons. So now instead of trying to build himself back up again, instead of looking inwards and thinking, how can I improve?

What can I do to put myself in a better position to get what I want going forward? He chooses to blame others, to look outward, to wallow in the attitude of life is so unfair, what's the point of even trying, and he withdraws from the world. He gives up on reality almost entirely, exchanging it for the world of fantasy gaming and World of Warcraft. Which I get. I had to force myself to stop playing Warcraft in my early 20s. Had to throw away the game because it was feeling more fun than real life, and I was starting to withdraw from real life and lose myself in it. Why is it so fun? I've never really worried about getting addicted to drugs, but I still worry about getting addicted to gaming. I have to be so careful

Its pull on me is so strong. There's no equivalent for it with anything else for some reason. I very much struggle With certain games when it comes to moderation Everything about World of Warcraft made sense to Andrus. Instead of the inherent equality or inequality of the real world, everyone started at the same place in the game. You could be exactly who you wanted to be. A priest, a warrior, a shaman, a paladin, a rogue, a druid, a hunter, a warlock, or a mage. You could choose your profession. You could be a blacksmith, alchemist, tailor, engineer and more. Then instead of struggling to get ahead, meeting successes and setbacks, your skills in the game

propelled you up through various levels if you put in the time and had some basic gaming skills. Anders gave himself the name Anders Nordic. His race was human, his class was mage, his character was very tall, powerful with a menacing grayish face. He moved up the level swiftly arranging rage with his guild, coordinating with other players who took the place of friends in real life. Part of the game's design, you know, is to make you spend a lot of hours playing it. Since logging off can set other people whom you're collaborating with back, and this is exactly what will happen with Anders. He'll end up spending the fall of 2006 playing 16 to 17 hours a day. Becomes a leader of the Virtue Guild, leading players who played for an average of 12 hours a day.

And I bet that a lot of fun. Yeah, I had to get rid of Warcraft when I was starting off and stand up in my early 20s because I became so addicted I would skip meals to play this shit. And then I started skipping even taking a shower. And then my ex-wife came home one day when we were first married. That's probably like, I don't know, 23, maybe 24. She comes home, you know, and finds me not, or finds me only, excuse me, wearing pants,

no underwear, no shirt, hadn't even combed my hair or brushed my teeth by like 6 p.m. Nope, just played the game all day long, then quickly threw on pants when I heard her come up the stairs. Almost told her she had nearly caught me beaten off because that seemed less pathetic than the truth and around this time I was also I would pretend to go to sleep at night in bed and then when she was asleep I would sneak up and play for hours in the middle of the night. My god these games can ruin you. Jumping ahead a few months now, one February morning in 2007, an unexpected letter shows up for Anders.

He had gotten in. He had actually been admitted to the Masons. He had been admitted to the first degree of the St. John Lodge, invited to his first meeting at the Freemasons headquarters. Jan, you know, his relative is gonna be a sponsor. He's fucking in.

His mom is so proud of him. Finally, her son's gonna be doing something other than just sitting at the computer not even beating off. The day after his 28th birthday Anders heads over to the Freemasons lodge and after an extensive ceremony he's officially a brother of the first degree and he doesn't give a shit. He just wants to go back home and play more Warcraft. He's now supposed to attend meetings every Wednesday, but he'll only attend one meeting.

And then he'll just give up. The Freemason dream no longer matters to him. It's not as cool as being this fucking mage or whatever he is. All he wants to do is kick ass. Within the World of Warcraft, a world he much prefers now to this one. But soon he starts to have problems in this new world. Just like he had done with tagging years earlier, after getting a little bit of recognition, Anders gets real cocky and becomes real unlikable. He becomes so determined to be among the best players in the game that he alienates many of his guild members. So many he ends up losing the group entirely. Then when he joins another server called Silvermoon, everyone there, they don't like him, they laugh at how cocky it is, they start talking shit about him. Now he feels like he's never going

to make it to become one of the top 500 players in the world which was a ranking He really coveted and his love of Warcraft now starts to die making matters worse Not much else is working out for him either. Of course not. All he's doing is playing this fucking game Right by 2008 his e-commerce group, which he had, you know, stop paying attention to back in 2006 now completely folds According to the bankruptcy filing the company had broken tax laws share trading laws accounting laws His savings has dwindled to almost nothing All he has is a bedroom in his mom's apartment a room. He calls the fart room Life is bleak. He's not dating. He has no job. No friends. No money

Living in a fart room at mom's apartment, a mom who never wanted him. With his World of Warcraft hobby on the fritz and his Freemason dream over, Anders turns back to something that had captured his attention a few years before. The Islamization of Europe. Right? He wants somebody to blame other than himself for his frustrations with life. Anders now believes that immigration from Arab countries plus higher birth rates of Arabs in Europe will lead to Europe being dominated and ruined by Muslim culture and he has to stop this. On his computer he starts devoting hours to his new favorite subject, especially on a forum called Gates of Vienna. Also on another forum a neo-nazi one called Stormfront that called itself the voice of a new white minority that was ready to fight under the motto white pride worldwide. We examined Stormfront at length in suck

396 one-man race war. Joseph Paul Franklin if you're curious. Jihad watch was another favorite side of Anders and all of these super shitty poisonous sites share the same basic rhetoric. There was a white us and there was a brown them. Us good, them bad. Real basic. Real binary. Real hateful. And the first place for losers who refused to take personal accountability for their shortcomings, you know, to bitch and blame and cheer each other on. Anders began to follow the most influential posters including a writer named Fjordman who frequently spouted dark passages about Muslim men raping Scandinavian women,

cases that weren't even real, and how immigration had to be stopped lest the white race be exterminated entirely. And then Anders will take Fjordman's thinking a step further. Fjordman never advocated for outright deportation, but Anders said it was the only way, since high birth rates meant that the Islamic population would continue to grow even if immigration stopped. It wasn't enough to stop letting in new Muslims. The ones already in Norway had to fucking go. On February 13th, 2009, three acquaintances of Anders come to his door, his mom's door technically, try to get him to come out for his birthday. He's turning 30 years old and he refuses to join them. Instead he chooses

to spend his 30th birthday online on these hate forums. Especially on a new site he discovered called document.to, a Norwegian website that was deeply critical of Islam. And then a week before Norway's general election due to be held September 14th 2009, the username AndersB posts his first comment on document.to. Or excuse me, document.no. No, not to. It was about why the media ignored some Muslim rights. Anders wrote that there was, quote, an increasing trend in Western Europe towards an acceptance of the media, hushing things up.

He used some unrest in French towns around Bastille Day, July 4th, as an example. Le Monde and other French newspapers had refused to write about the riots he claimed. But the quotes he used were part of a different story, namely that it was the French local authorities who had refused to answer questions from Le Monde, citing official instructions. Right? The Illuminati is behind this. His post got Anders the reaction he wanted. Responses poured in. And then Anders wrote new tracks about the quote killing of whites in South Africa and

multiculturalism as a fundamentally anti-European ideology. A week after Anders' debut on Document.no on Election Day morning, Anders wrote on the forum suggesting they start their own newspaper. He said that they might be able to eventually consolidate their movement with the Progress Party and usher in a new anti-immigration pro-Norwegian era. He spent that day organizing the logistics, promising to get anyone who wanted to work with the newspaper in touch with investors. He drew up a business plan, hoping that the Progress Party would be victorious. They would not be.

Instead, there would be four more years of the Labour Party in control. Anders is crushed. would be four more years of the Labour Party in control. Anders is crushed. But this makes him think that a newspaper preaching the ideals he believed in was now essential, more important than ever. So he sent an email to the General Secretary of the Progress Party about it.

And in January 2010, the party responds. The Progress Party wished him the best of luck, but they didn't want shit to do with this fucking loser. Oh well. In the meantime, Anders had finished a quote book based on his quote research, which he quote published under the name Andrew Berwick. And by book I mean pamphlet. And by research I mean none. And by published I mean he posted online. It began like this. Most Europeans look back to the 1950s as a good time. Our homes were safe,

to the point where many people did not bother to lock their doors. Public schools were generally excellent, and their problems were things like talking in class and running in the halls. Most men treated women like ladies, and most ladies devoted their time and effort to making good homes, rearing their children well, and helping their communities through volunteer work.

Children grew up in two-parent households, and the mother was there to meet the child when he came home from school. Sounds like this little guy has some mommy issues which why wouldn't he and wishes this was his childhood which I get. But let me burst this bubble right now. Domestic violence socially acceptable in most of the world in 1950s and for the most part actually legal to a certain extent. Sometimes to a great extent. Dudes and in many countries only white dudes, straight white dudes, they had it better than 1950s no one else. Marital rape was not illegal and anecdotally very common. Women got

verbally and psychologically abused continually, beat often, kids got beat often, boys encouraged to essentially not have emotions, minorities continually disenfranchised, often legally, homosexuals could and did go to prison for being who they are. I could go on and on. Good old days were never that good for most people. It's a fucking bullshit fantasy, touted as truth for the most part by people like Anders Breivik. Breivik wanted to recapture the values that he thought existed in the 1950s.

Well, actually, he wanted the exact values in the 1950s because it would have been great for him. The 1950s when he said women were housewives and not soldiers, kids were not born outside of wedlock, and homosexuality wasn't a thing. Feminism, he said, went hand in hand with cultural Marxism. Spoken like a true incel. He wrote, it is in television where nearly every major offering has a female power figure, and the plots and characters emphasize inferiority of the male and superiority of the female. It is in the military, where expanding opportunity for women, even in combat positions, has been accompanied by double standards and then lowering of the standards, as well as a decline in

enlistment of young men, while warriors in the service are leaving in droves. It is in government-mandated employment preferences and practices that benefit women and use sexual harassment charges to keep men in line. It is in public schools, where self-awareness and self-esteem are increasingly promoted, while academic learning declines. And sadly, we see that several European countries allow and fund free distribution of contraceptive pills combined with liberal abortion policies. How dare contraception pills be given out. Does that sound like the kind of shit a lot of people are saying in the world right now?

Sure does to me. Anders wrote about how if women couldn't be counted on to make good little white babies, well Muslims would rule Europe so white women needed to be forced to be breeders. Might makes right! Time to rape and pillage for the glory of Rome. I mean for Hitler's Germany. I mean Anders Norway. The second section of the book was supposedly devoted to Islam but it was really just mostly devoted to publishing essays that were actually written by Fjordman, that influential poster on Jihad watch that Anders simply just plagiarized. Anders made even more outlandish claims than Fjordman though, like how the actual number of Muslims in Europe was being kept a secret by authorities. Then he

turned to the Quran to prove that Muslim domination has been a plan from the beginning. But on this kind of thing I will say doesn't every religion, well doesn't every Western religion, no that's not even true, don't Christianity and Islam want to dominate the world? I mean, come on. Let's be honest The repentance verse of the Quran was part of his proof He said kill the polytheists wherever you find them arrest them imprison them besiege them and lie and wait for them at every sight of ambush

Actually that verse refers to sex that worship multiple gods in old Arabia not Jews and Christians But if you needed more proof than this misattributed line, well, Anders himself had been a friend of the Muslim gangs, he said. He had seen it firsthand, he claimed, which he hadn't. He falsely claimed that through his friend Ahmed, that little Pakistani boy he knew in middle school, he had been introduced to two Muslim gangs who beat up ethnic Norwegian youngsters who lacked the right connections. To avoid being their target, Anders said, he entered into an alliance with them. Two Muslim gangs who beat up ethnic Norwegian youngsters who lacked the right connections. To avoid being their target, Anders said, he entered into an alliance with them, and because they could be relied on to back him if he needed it.

Norwegians, he said, would sissy out when it came to conflict, so he wanted Muslim allies. None of this is true. He claimed to have heard during this time that Ahmed was involved in a gang rape of a bunch of white girls, and Anders apparently did nothing. Just kept being best friends with him. Okay weird. He said eventually he got knocked down by a huge Pakistani guy who had been ordered to attack Anders by Ahmed and they had not been friends since. He said it was after that that he got involved with the tagging community.

But then the tagging community was hijacked by Marxist Jihadi youth and Anders was like fuck that no thank you, and he left his head held high. After that he said he got involved with the Progress Party but realized they were a bunch of fucking pussies who could not change the system by democratic means and that led to his last section, his most violent, called The Phase for Dialogue is Over. He made a thorough list of the types of people who could be considered traitors to the white race in Europe as a whole. Journalists, editors, teachers, professors, university leaders, publishers, radio

commentators, writers, comic strip creators, artists, technical experts, scientists, doctors, and church leaders. So smart people. So fucking difficult. All those creative and educated people who think deeply about how to improve the world for everyone and strangely come to very similar conclusions. The people who denounce people like myself as simple-minded bigots and losers. They are the problem. They need to fucking die. Anderson said that they had all been complicit in betraying their people, their race, cultural genocide, and they needed to be punished for being race traders. Fuck Team Meat Sack. There should only be Team White. Team Pure White and their strong Aryan Knights and super hot snowpusses.

Most serious traders, Class A traders, Anders wrote, were leaders of political parties, trade unions, cultural institutions, and the media, and they would be sentenced to death. Class B traders were less important cultural Marxists. They would also be sentenced to death, but could in some instances have that punishment reduced to like life in prison. C traders, well, they wielded little influence themselves, but aided and abetted traders in the two higher categories, and they would receive either fines or prison sentences or both a lot of dark shit But to be fair he did include some good news He said that all multiculturalists will be pardoned if they capitulated to the Knights Templar before January 1st 2020 Okay, interesting bring the Knights Templar back for some reason not sure why they're needed here But I guess he liked their history and how cool their armor looked

Probably thinking about paladins from World War Craft. January 1st, 2020 was also the date on which the mass deportation of Muslims would begin under his plan. To avoid expatriation, Muslims would have to convert to Christianity and be baptized with a new Christian forename, middle name, and surname. They would also be forbidden from speaking any traditional Middle Eastern or African language. All mosques will be demolished. All traces of Islamic culture in Europe will be eradicated. Even places of historical interest. Still not done. No ex-Muslim couple will be permitted to have more than two kids. And there will be a strict ban on telephoning, emailing, or exchanging letters between Muslim friends and families. Also, for two full generations, former Norwegian Muslims will not be able to travel back to their homelands. But despite this rhetoric, Anders said he didn't actually blame Muslims for what was happening in Norway. He blamed the people who had allowed them to enter, the Labour Party,

and their shitty supporters. The first phase of fighting those people before they could get to the executions and imprisonments would be to wage a ceaseless campaign of violence against cultural Marxists that will last all the way until 2030. Huh. Not sure why he thought it would take that long to get rid of them. If he was starting to do all this shit in 2020, really before 2020, like well before, why would he need, you know, more than 10 years to punish the white academics? Norway only had about 5 million people at this time total. Seems like he could have figured out who needed killing a little quicker, but I guess he wanted, you know, time to be thorough. Anders proposed doing shit like deploying a bomb at a journalist annual conference, shooting people who fled out forwards,

setting off a car bomb at a parade, disguised himself as a fireman hurling grenades, using a flamethrower in the auditorium at the Labor Party, National Congress, or at the House of the People. Or he could park a car packed with explosives outside, time to go off, just as delegates swarmed out to escape flames. He wrote that those who survived would be literally branded, serving as living reminders of what would happen to race traders. branded, serving as living reminders of what would happen to race traders. He also wrote that it seemed non-threatening was the key to all of these plans. Be a chameleon, put on a disguise, he wrote, suggesting his readers acquire a police uniform so that they can move around easily with weapons.

And again, this would all take place until 2030. Then is a long plan. For the next 40 years, from 2030 to 2070, more advanced resistance fronts would emerge and begin to coup governments all across Europe. Fucking dominoes falling. This is going to be happening for a long time. Still not done. In the next phase, post 2070, traders will be executed and the new all-white Europe,

or at least all non-Muslim and barely any brown Europe, not even much cream or beige, will emerge with peace raining from 2083 on under the leadership of the return DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN OF THE NIGHT'S TEMPLOR Of course, Anders will have the highest rank in this revival. I don't know how the fuck he thinks he's still gonna be alive at this point But he is going to be justitious This guy's an idiot. He gave himself the rank of Justitious Knight Commander. Oh man, a lot of World of Warcraft showing up in this plan. Honors will be awarded in 2083.

When he will be 100... when was he born? Like 1980? Or I can't remember... right around 1980. It's up top of my head. I'm deviating from my notes right now. But if he's going to be having these honors awarded in 2083, he's a little over a hundred years old. I'm not sure how he thinks this is going to work out. But anyway, honors will be awarded in 2083, depending on how many traitors one had killed. These honors had titles like Distinguished Destroyer of Cultural Marxism and Distinguished Saboteur Master. There was an award for intellectual excellence. Very cool. Plenty for all this, he warned, would isolate you from friends and family. They would think you're weird or you're hiding something. You're ashamed about yourself. But that was okay,

even desired, he said. He wrote how he himself had a number of friends who thought he was gay. I don't think he has a number of friends, but anyway, but any friends he does have apparently thought he was gay. And he thought that was hilarious because he was quote, most definitely 100% hetero. Totally. Every guy I know who is hetero always makes a point to say they are quote, definitely 100% hetero. I say that myself a lot. I say stuff like, I can't even count how many times I've said stuff like, hey guys, do you care if my wife's coming along? Because I have a wife, you know, and she is a woman with a vagina that I think is very cool. One that I enjoy both the taste and touch of and smell

One that I enjoy both the taste and touch of and smell most of the time. I have sex with my wife's vagina a lot and I very much enjoy it because I am definitely 100% hetero. Oh yeah, talking like that will never ever lead to anyone question your sexuality and thinking that you're deeply in the closet and mentally unwell and not happy about everything. Anyway, Anders wrote about how if you survive being a social outcast and the violent missions, you had the ultimate reward to look forward to, a new utopia. And who doesn't want a new utopia? Better than the old utopia. When the Civil War was over, Anders claimed, the ideal society would be constructed to protect European genes.

Factories of surrogate white, pure white, snowpuss mothers will be set up in low-cost countries this is so fucking disturbing and each mother would be expected to produce ten or so blonde blue-eyed children glory be to Gilead under his eye like they used to you know back in the good old days before all the snowpusses got all uppity wanted rights rights, choices, body autonomy. Anders wrote that parents who were not suitable to look after their children could place them with patriotic foster parents who would be allowed to have up to 12 kids. This new society would also be chased with sexual absence before marriage becoming the norm. Divorce would be penalized.

Fathers, not mothers, not fucking crazy bitches like mommy, would be given custody of their kids when parents split up. Anders said this new utopia, which I gotta say doesn't sound very fun, was inspired directly by his childhood, which had been ruined by the forces of feminism. All of this was, of course, the product of a very disturbed mind, you know, by someone very likely mentally ill,

just like mom and grandma. Others around Anders were starting to notice that he was disturbed around the time he's writing all this. Even mommy, Venko. She spent several years hoping her son would get it together, stop spending so much time on his computer. By 2010 she was extremely worried about him and if she's worried about you, you're very fucked up. Venko said her son now had wild mood swings, accused her of talking to people who could infect them both.

When he was like that, she said, he would barely come out of his room. When he did come out, he would put his hands over his face, you know, to use the bathroom or wear a face mask. So, you know, he wouldn't get infected. He's not well. He's also acting weird in other ways. When she broke up with her boyfriend, Anders bought his mom a vibrator. She said that he was taking things quote, a bit far with that. And then taking it further, baby boy kept asking her in all seriousness if she had tried out his present. What the fuck is happening here? That is messed up. And I also kind of want to do it to my mom now.

But just to make everyone in the family uncomfortable, as a joke, to be clear, I would do that knowing it was messed up. But actually, even then, it's still too messed up, probably. You know what? Actually, when I really think about it, I don't want to do that. If my mom... If I gave my mom a vibrator and then she described how good it made her feel, how much fun it was to have it, I might just try and drown myself.

So I'd never have to think about that again. Vanco. But also, I would think it's kind of funny because I'm disturbed. Venko. While she now knew her son was messed up, she still didn't know how far gone her son was. He was starting to actually build a bomb. The year before, in May of 2009, he had set up a one-man business called Breivik Geofarm. That was actually not a business, just a pretend business that operated from his mom's apartment. He had registered the company with Norwegian Register of Business Enterprises, giving its objectives as quote,

buying, selling, and management of shares, project development, including acquisition and development of real estate. Then he started looking for farm space, somewhere to stash all the stuff he's buying. First thing he bought was a Pelican case from America, one of those highly durable, waterproof, crush- proof protective cases

Then he ordered smoke grenades laser gun sights spike strips to shred tires flashing blue lights GPS navigator silencers gun magazines I bought himself a military suit decorated with a gold brocade using a needle and thread Bought army boots a helmet with the visor body armor, bulletproof vests, Soviet gas mask, and some plastic handcuffs. Then he found a base of operations. He got in touch with a man who owned a farm called Voll. Established way back in 1750, the farm consisted of a white painted house, a barn, summer cowshed,

farm hands quarters, red storehouse, raised on pillars, plus a garage. It lay on the eastern side of the Glama River, looked out over dense forests to the east, while the view to the west was of green pasture and fields. The owner was about to go to prison for having run what sources describe as a hash plantation and wanted to rent the place out before it began to sentence. Anders told him he was going to start sugar beet production. They agreed on a rent of 10,000 kroner a month that would begin in May. Now he has his farm and he begins to gather more supplies. Supplies for a massive bomb. Via eBay he orders powdered sulfur from the U.S. which was described on the customs declaration as

a yellow artist paint dust. He ordered sodium nitrate from a company in Poland and more sodium nitrate from a chemist shop in Skeaen. Also bought ethanol, acetone, caustic soda, flasks, glasses, bottles, funnels, thermometers, masks and more. He bought a big old fuse, three meter long, slow burning string that would hopefully take five minutes from lighting to explosion. Aside from all that, Anders had also invested in self-improvement. He started lifting weights again. He bought protein powder to increase his muscle mass, milk thistle to strengthen his liver, he bought various supplements to increase his energy. He figured his operation would

require sustained concentration, power, and movement over many hours. He started using anabolic steroids. By January 2011, yeah he's fucking serious about this, by 2011 he had completed the required 15 hours of training to obtain a firearms license in Norway. He had also been put in hundreds of hours on the game Call of Duty Modern Warfare, thinking that would help his shooting accuracy. Around January 15th, he submitted an application to buy a semi-automatic Glock 17.

In the meantime, bought a semi-automatic Storm Ruger rifle, along with a special trigger that could make rapid firing easier. Began modifying his bullets, lacing them with liquid nicotine sourced from China, which seems like a fucking weird thing to do and a huge waste of time. I don't know anybody who thinks that would make the bullets more lethal, but I don't know. Must have made him feel cool. When he couldn't source the silencer he needed, he put on a bayonet on the end of the rifle. Customs declared the bayonet as a sports equipment, or as sports equipment from the U.S. In the log of his book, he carefully wrote out his shopping list encouraging all interested parties to follow his example, right?

This book that he's posting online, these forums. He writes, there is absolutely no good reason for not getting this equipment out of fear you will be found out. All that is holding you back is unjustified anxiety and laziness. The only reason that could justify your fear is having an Islamic name. February 13th 2011. This delusional psycho turns 32. Does not celebrate his birthday again. No time. Too much important work to do. Instead he started editing a film he was making as a sort of advertisement for his plan. Downloading images from anti-Islamic websites, adding music he liked. April 6, 2011, Anders submits a letter to the Norwegian Agricultural Producers Register

to change the location of Breivik Geofarm from Oslo to Åmet, saying he was now producing roots and tubers. He did this so he could obtain a producer number to get a bunch of fertilizer. But he was so hasty about pushing the forms through that officials began to wonder and somebody ended up triggering a background check on Breivik. He keeps on pestering. Is there anything on him? The official queried in an email to his boss and requested a check but then nothing showed up. And a week later confirmation was sent out that the change of use to those supposed roots and tubers had been approved. was sent out that the change of use to those supposed roots and tubers had been approved.

May 4th, 2011, Anders hires a Fiat Doblo, rents a Fiat Doblo small gray van from Avis Rent-A-Car, and he moves out of his mom's flat officially. He had ordered six tons of fertilizer on credit cards. The bags were delivered the day he moved into his new place. That same day he constructed the metal framework for his bomb. The next day he started crushing aspirin tablets to extract acetyl-seicillic acid. Yeah, acetyl. Oh my God. Acetyl-seicillic. Try saying that 10 times in a row.

Acetyl-seicillic. Acetyl-seicillic acid. But crushing a bunch of aspirin was tough going. So he put a large sheet of plastic on the floor of the barn, started using a 20 kilo dumbbell to crush this aspirin. But that was just about all that went well. Lots of instructions he'd found online, did not end up leading to anything. The aspirin didn't even give him the acetylsalicylic acid. God, this fucking word.

Acetylsalicylic. I didn't give him the acetylsalicylic, Jesus Christ, acetylsalicylic acid. The fuck am I chemist now? Uh, just useless salicylic acid. Uh, to raise his spirits, he went to a nearby restaurant, treated himself to a three course meal, then watched a few episodes of The Shield to wind down. Uh, then his subsequent tries did not lead to anything either. I appear to be fundamentally fucked if I cannot manage to find a solution soon.

He wrote in his log Saturday, May 7th. When he woke up Sunday morning he went straight onto the internet. After several hours he found a YouTube video with a few previous hits, not many views, showed an unconventional method for extracting the acid he wanted. The guy in the video used a suction pump and a dehumidifier in a lab and succeeded. So on Monday morning, Anders tried doing the same thing himself using coffee filters and air drying.

In the end, he did not know if he had made the desired compound but decided he just have to hope it worked out. He pushed on with making the bomb, only taking a break Saturday, May 14th to watch the finals of the Eurovision Song Contest, and that made me laugh out loud when I first read it. I gotta kill these motherfuckers! I gotta start a continent wide race war! But first, I wanna find out who's song advances. May 17th, he would spend the day making highly concentrated sulfuric acid, a process that would ultimately take him three days to get a concentration of more than 70%. Then he transferred three tons of fertilizer into 50 kilo bags, which he would then soak in diesel to make detonatable.

But first he had to crush the pellets up and that proved to be really hard work. And soon he heard his back. He decided to figure out another method, bought 12 different mixers and blenders. Only one worked using an Electrolux. It could process a half kilo of fertilizer pellets in 30 seconds, so then he bought more of those. But all that hard work put further strain on him and he had to spend the first few days of June in bed recovering.

But by June 3rd, he was back at it processing bag after bag after bag of fertilizer and by June 6th, he had crushed 1600 kilograms of fertilizer pellets and soaked them in diesel. The next phase would be to synthesize this a lot of fucking work, picric acid his secondary explosive but that proved difficult and first batch did not ignite in the oven like he hoped it would. Then on June 11th the power surge killed his computer and for the first time in a long while, he prayed. He prayed to God. Mm-hmm.

Dude is praying to God, asking for God's help, and making a bomb he will use to kill as many innocent people as possible. This guy's fucking crazy. I explained to God, he wrote in his diary, that unless he wanted the Marxist-Islamic alliance and the certain Islamic takeover of Europe to completely annihilate European Christendom within the next hundred years, he must ensure that the warriors fighting for the preservation of European Christendom prevail. He must ensure that I succeed with my mission. But God didn't listen.

His computer stayed dead. Satan won that day. Damn you, Satan! Then he went out and bought a new computer and he was back on. His computer stayed dead. Satan won that day. Damn you, Satan! Then he went out and bought a new computer and he was back on and Satan was not powerful enough to destroy his second computer. So fuck you, devil. Or Satan lost interest in what Anders was doing or something. I'm not sure what Satan's plan was. Two days later, Anders made a test bomb, took it to a remote part of the forest a few kilometers from the farm. He lit the fuse, he waited, and it exploded and God is good!

Andrews high-fived Jesus right before Jesus said, and I quote, Fuck those brown Muslim lovers! They about to get lit! Woo! And then Jesus pounded a couple cold beers, mumbled something about white power, flew back into white heaven. Oh God, it was really something. I wish I could have been there to see it. Andrews' test run was a massive success for an operation that had been almost entirely made up of failures. It was also good for Andrew's morale since by the end of June, 10 of his credit card companies were calling constantly to collect the charges he had accrued. He had a week to find about 80,000 Kroner, about 7,000 US bucks. Or there were, you know, gonna be serious legal action.

But he was able to defer payment for half the fertilizer, which pushed him until mid-July before he had to make more payments. So he got a little bit of a reprieve. A couple days later, his new PC shorts out, damn you Satan, the devil is back! Back to thwart his plans to kill evil Christians who have been tolerant towards unbelievably not white Muslim immigrants once again. Luckily, God is stronger than Satan and to the devil's chagrin, numerous Norwegian electronics stores still have computers for sale. And Anders was able to buy another one on another credit card, so fuck you Beelzebub. Bomb-wise, he proceeded to filter out crystals from the picric acid and now started making his primary explosive, DDMP. Not even gonna try and say that fucking insane chemical name. In the evening, he

tried, other than the acronym, he tried to relax with some episodes of True Blood and Dexter after working on his DDMP, but he couldn't relax. He was very annoyed that both shows promoted multiculturalism. Seriously. What the fuck? Why are white vampires hanging out with black vampires? Why are white detectives working alongside black, brown, and you know what, even Asian detectives? And what color are Asian detectives exactly? Maybe oatmeal?

Maybe wheat? Sometimes very pale though, it's confusing. Sometimes whiter than many of us whites. Are some Chinese people the whitest of the whites? Are they more superior? It's all very upsetting and confusing. Not sure if the Asians upset Andrews as much as the traditional blacks or the traditional browns. But at the end of the day, you know, they're just so fucked up and disrespectful that two American shows couldn't have all pure white Norwegian actors, nothing but chalk cocks and snow pusses. That's right, chalk cocks. Pretty, I'm pretty proud of that one. I just came up with that one today. That's a great way to describe male pure whites. July 2nd, 2011. Anders, chalk

cock brevik. Why can't Norwegian words be pronounced like American words? He goes back to Oslo to get more steroids. Because he'd run out and you have to have steroids if you're going to try and pull off a terrorist act. He decided to combine this errand with testing the route for his upcoming terrorist operation. He took the E18 highway past Oslo, then the E16 towards Hanifas. He then spotted an unobtrusive sign for the track to the island of Utoia, drove down the steep hill, parked on the jetty, went over to the boat that was moored there, read on the AUF website that was called the MS Thorbjorn, named after Thorbjorn Joglund, former

Labour Party Prime Minister. He studied the old landing craft, considered whether bullets would penetrate its hull or not, entered the coordinates into his GPS, familiarized himself with the roads in the vicinity, then looked out at the island across the water. It was a very pretty island, right green, rolling hills. It was set to be the location for a summer camp hosted by the AUF, the youth wing of the ruling Norwegian Labour Party. The camp was an annual event. About 600 kids would attend that summer. And then Anders goes to Oslo now and buys enough anabolic steroids for 20 days. And then takes his mom to an Indian restaurant. Fucking what, Chococ? Why are you taking snowpuss mommy to eat brown people food? Very confusing. At this restaurant that I would like to think is Indian food cooked

by only pure whites. He complained about how ugly he had gotten and said he needed veneers. Okay, then he launched into a rant about all the spiders and the bugs at the farm that were really bothering him. Okay, as they walked out he snapped his mom. Told her not to walk so close to him because he didn't want people to think he had special needs. So mentally he's doing great. All that time spent alone in the fucking farm at the farm making a bomb has not you know drugged down his mental capabilities at all. Tip-top. Back at the farm he prepared bags of ammonium nitrate and powdered aluminum now. Now he needed to bend the ammonium nitrate with

the aluminum powder which would intensify the force of the explosion. He did so by hand getting his rate down to about 60 minutes per bag, which completely coated him in silver powder. Unsurprising then, by the end of July, he was starting to feel seriously ill. But he pushed on. His Chalkcock brothers and Snowpuss sisters were depending on him. If he failed, Norway's Hengi-Bengi-Hufta would be replaced by As-Salaam-Alaikum and praise be to Allah.

Friday July 15th he goes into the nearby town of Rina to catch a train to Oslo where he will pick up a rental car then returns begins to remove the Avis logo from the Volkswagen Crafter with the drill bit. Monday July 18th he takes the last batches of picric acid and DDMP out of the oven and then it's time to load everything into the van. After he does all that he takes an extra dose extra dose of steroids because you can't have enough steroids. You got to keep that Chococ rock hard. Got to keep those shiny white cue balls small high and tight when you're trying to kick off a

race war. Wednesday July 20th he drove the van into Oslo. He was on the verge of passing out having slept so little the last few nights in central Oslo. He parks the van at the Olsen's Window Garden Center. He assumes it will be fine since he had made a logo for a water treatment company and put it on the front of the van. Then he slept that night in his old bedroom in the old fart room, where for some reason I imagine he beat off while also crying. I picture him always crying when he beats off for some reason. He just gives me that vibe. Thursday morning he takes the train back to Reno, then calls a taxi to take him back to the farm. He would return for the booster and detonator, then drive carefully into Oslo in the gray van. Any friction could detonate the van and the mission then and there.

He also had his guns, his rifle with the bayonet, the pistol with the laser sight. He'd carve names onto them in runic script. He called his pistol Mjolnir after Thor's hammer. Odin's spear was named Gungnir, which was also the name of Anders rifle now. As nightfall approached, he parked the gray van outside the garden center next to a Volkswagen Crafter he had rented. That we'd already mentioned. Then exhausted, he dragged himself back to his mom's house. He knew that one part of the plan, the part he was most excited for actually, probably wasn't gonna work out now. At the summer camp on the island, his nemesis, the former Prime Minister, Gru Harlem Brutland, was going to give a speech starting at 11 a.m.

He had planned to capture her at gunpoint, make her read a text announcing her betrayal to the nation, and then he would force her to beg for her life, ask him for forgiveness, and then he would not give her for forgiveness and he would literally cut her head off. Then he would post a video of her decapitation on YouTube. But to get to her on time, he'd have to wake up at three in the morning and he decided he was too tired for that shit. He'd rather beat off and cry and he decided to abort that part of the mission and wake up around seven instead. Friday morning, 22nd of July.

He wakes up around 7, makes three ham and cheese sandwiches, eats one of them, saves the other two for later. Then he uses a newly purchased modem and drafts an email with his manifesto and YouTube trailer to send to 8,000 contacts. Then it was time to go to the garden center. He unlocked his smaller rental car, took out the fuse, then he got into the back of the crafter to mount it on three explosives. He left it parked at the garden center, drove his smaller car to the city center, parking in Hammersborg Square just above the government quarter. Then he took a brisk walk to make sure there were not any new roadblocks.

There were not. Then he stopped a taxi driver to ask when people who worked in the government offices tended to get off for their day and which building was the most quote politically significant. Finally around half past 12 he arrived back home. While Gru Harlem Brunstend was just leaving the stage at the main meeting hall in Utoia she had given a rousing speech about all the changes that had happened in Norway since she was born in the late 1930s and in that speech she had praised the advances of women's rights but warned there could be backlash. She said they had to keep fighting for equality every day because there was

still a lot of stupid fucking dickheads in the world. Not her words exactly but that was the gist. Banu Rashid, an 18 year old Muslim immigrant from Iraq and the leader of her chapter of the AUF, watched, listened, and applauded. Her sister, 16-year-old Laura Sapi Sayer, after the speech, Banu even got to meet Gru because she was her chapter's leader and also because she lent Gru her rain boots because the torrential downpour was still ongoing from the night before. Meanwhile at home, Anders sent out his manifesto with the subject line of the Islamization of Western Europe and the status of the European resistance movements. Within the email, the heading read Western Patriot and he introduced the work as a set of advanced ideological, practical, tactical, organizational, and rhetorical solutions and strategies.

Then at a quarter to three, he left his room. The email was still sending and would eventually actually be cut off by spam filters after being delivered to only about a thousand addresses. So, a very small percentage of who he sent it out to. So clearly Satan struck again a continual thorn in Anders side. Always trying to take the hard rock out of his chock-cock. Back at the garden center, Anders unlocked the van, climbed into the back, he changed into a black compression top and put on a plastic police badge on the sleeve, then strapped on a bulletproof vest. At the same time, Gru was boarding the MS Thorbjorn

to leave the island sitting beside her granddaughter Julie. She got off the island, left for other events that day. Meanwhile, Anders drove the van onto Grugbogata Street. That's a fun word. Where do you live? Grug! Grugbogata! Grugbogata. Sorry, Norwegiansug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug, Gr and the prime minister's offices. He had estimated that he had had enough explosives to bring down

the entire building. He didn't, but he did have a lot. He parked, took out his lighter, lit the fuse. He had planned to die when he did that, thinking that some gas could have escaped and turned the whole van into an instantaneous powder keg. But the fuse simply lit. Anders then jumped out, grabbed his keys. He did forget his cell phone on the dash, but he remembered to grab his pistol, which he kept in his hand as he now crossed the street and headed to his car. Security guards monitoring the basement via CCTV did not notice the van, but a few minutes after the fuse was lit, one of the receptionists called security to say there was a wrongly parked van outside. One of the guards then rewound footage to watch Anders climb out of the van

and thought, well, he seems like a guard of some kind. The security guard decided to ring the driver and vehicle licensing agency to get the name and telephone number of the vans owner Just so they could ask her to move. You know, there's no sense of anything terrible happening here Meanwhile a young man is walking towards the tower block His name is John Levargue a lawyer who had just finished a report on customs agreements between the European Union and the developing world He is headed to hand the report in. Afterwards, he had planned to head out with his wife to their hometown to tell their parents some good news. They were expecting their first baby.

But that will not happen. Because at 3.25pm, as he walks around to the tower block, the van explodes near him into a supernova of flames. He is thrown sideways by a pressure wave so strong it kills him before he even hits the ground he is just fucking torn into little pieces. Two young women, also lawyers, also killed instantaneously. Two receptionists are thrown completely out of their seats and over the counter and into the square.

Glass blew into the building as everything, doors, windows, cars became hurtling projectiles. When the blast subsided, eight lay dead in the square. Only one part of John Vergarde's body will land intact on the ground. The rest of him was just fucking eviscerated, just obliterated into nothing. The only thing that survives, his hand with his wedding ring still on the ring finger. Jen Stoltenberg, the Prime Minister, had decided to work from home that day, but his residence was not far away and he heard the blast as he prepared the speech he had planned to give at Uto, the Prime Minister, had decided to work from home that day, but his residence was not far away, and he heard the blast as he prepared the speech he had planned to give at Utoi the next day, at the island,

focusing on the economy and employment. Meanwhile, one of his own secretaries in the reception area had been killed instantly. Other workers, many injured, poured out of the building amid smoke and billowing dust. While others fled, a security guard in the basement had managed to call the Oslo police, and as burst pipes began to rain down water, he informed them that a man in a uniform, a police uniform, had left the van minutes before it blew up. Another tip came in. Someone in the square, a man named Andreas Olsen, had seen a man walking out with a gun.

Andreas said the man had gotten into a gray van with the registration number VH-24605. It was the car Anders was currently driving. The police officer put the note on the desk of her supervisor, the chief of operations, uh, chief of operations, thought she made eye contact with him, but he actually didn't see her, and the note now just sat there. Big fucking mistake. I don't know why you aren't a little more assertive in this situation. And a harbinger in a way of the massive fuck-ups and lack of a proper procedure for a terrorist attack that was to come. The authorities did not handle this well at all. Oslo did not have any shared alert procedures amongst the police so the chief of police was actually going through the phone book, ringing staff members one by one

and though more tips came in about the strange man in uniform who'd left in a dark car, no alerts were sent out from the Joint Operational Center at the police headquarters in Oslo. Not to the police force, not to the public, no one. Norway had never had an attack like this. Not from one of their own citizens. Nothing comparable to this had happened since World War II and they were beyond not prepared. Meanwhile, Anders got stuck in traffic on his way to get in the opera tunnel, which would lead him towards the island. He had heard on the radio that the explosion had gone off, but didn't know if the city of Oslo would be shut down before he could get out. Unfortunately, but fortunately for him, no roadblocks had been set up. Nothing was closed.

All available manpower had been sent on a rescue mission into the city center. He drove through heavy traffic from the eastern city center to emerge around the US embassy which was now swarming with security personnel. At 3 55 p.m. half an hour after the bomb went off an operator finally saw that note lying on the desk about the license plate number and called Olson back. Olson reiterated that he what he had seen a European man in his 30s the vehicle with the plate number. The operator then relayed the report to a patrol from the emergency response squad, but it was impossible to get through on the radio, so she called them on their cell phone.

At 4.03 p.m. Breivik passed the police station in Sandvika on the E18. If any of the officers had been looking out of their windows, they would have seen his silver gray car driving past them on the main road. Sandvika had men ready and waiting, but they didn't know what to do with them and they were awaiting a request for assistance from Oslo. Two minutes later the operator in Oslo makes a mobile phone call to the emergency room response unit or emergency response unit informing them of a man in a dark uniform driving a Fiat Doblo but that call came in two

minutes too late. She also gave them that registration or license plate number. The patrol said the description was too vague for any action to be taken though. Fucking ridiculous. One patrol that did have the information actually decided not to follow up because they were busy transporting a prisoner, even though their superior had already told them to put that task on hold while they investigated. Everything that could be bungled was being bungled. Many of Norway's different districts offered support, but nearly all of them were declined. Parliament requested reinforcement, but was denied, along with the Labour Party offices and the House of the People. Meanwhile, the Emergency Response Unit requested the use of the country's only police helicopter two times and was denied twice.

And yes, they had literally one fucking helicopter in all of Norway. This kind of shit just does not happen. The pilot was told his services weren't needed and that he could just return to enjoying his vacation. Don't even worry about it. Fucked up. 416 PM. Anders passes Sune Behegdo. Down to his left lay Tira Fjorden, right? The big lake. He will soon be inside of the island. On the island, young people are busy with a combination of political activities and regular summer camp pastimes, playing soccer, debating, attending seminars, making out in the fucking bushes, whatever.

Seventeen-year-old Mari Johansson, a student at Greve Forest High School who is interested in music, dance, and drama, and eighteen-year-old Simon Seibo decided to take a seminar on something they knew nothing about, geopolitics of the Western Sahara. During the seminar, a boy stood up and reported there had been a big explosion in Oslo. Camp activities were quickly redirected. Everyone gathered in the main hall to hear AUF leader Eskiel Peterson's updates on the explosion. The camp's head of security Monica Boise, a slight woman in her mid-40s, came onto the stage and told the young people they could call

their parents if they wanted to. She'd been working at the camp for over 20 years. Her husband John was the ferry captain. This was also going to be her last summer on the island. She had just gotten a new job as the director of Norway's Maritime Museum. Right now she wanted to take care of her kids, told them they would have a huge feast that night. They could eat as many sausages as they wanted. Nobody worry about anything. You're all safe. Utoi was the safest place for them to be right now, she said. them they would have a huge feast that night they could eat as many sausages as they wanted nobody worry about anything you're all safe utoya was the safest place for them to be right now she said well simon didn't believe her and he told maury as much he said that if whoever was attacking

the government uh you know whoever it was it was attacking government that meant they were attacking the labor party and they were at the largest labor party event in the whole country right now simon called his dad requested a call back if there was new information about the bomb. Meanwhile, Anders is pulling into a little clearing above the jetty. The next boat is going to be leaving at 5. While he waits, officials are still working on a nationwide alert to the police. One hour and 18 minutes after the explosion, they finally release the following alert. Nationwide alert.

Explosion. Potential bombs in central Oslo. All units requested to be on alert for a small gray van, possible registration 24605. As of now unknown relationship between explosion and vehicle but if it is located alert desk or Oslo pending further instructions. What the alert did not say was the initial letter code for the license plate number. They left that out. And they forgot to say that the driver had been observed wearing a police uniform. Crucial details.

Another big fuck up. But it didn't really matter because very few police stations even had the technology to receive the alert. Meanwhile, Anders went down to the jetty, identified himself as a police officer who had been sent over because of the bombing in Oslo. The students gathered there said that the five o'clock boat had been canceled because of the explosion. But Anders said no they need that boat. He said there were two more police officers on the way and he needed to get to the island immediately to secure the area before they arrived. And the students believed him. I mean why wouldn't they? If they

had received an alert letting them know the bomber was dressed like a police officer who looked exactly like Anders, I imagine they would have been a bit skeptical. The boat with Anders on board now sets off from the island towards the mainland to come pick up Anders and bring him back to the island. Monica Bosai, who had ridden over on the boat, ran up to Breivik when the boat docked asking why they hadn't been informed of the police sweep. Anders replied it was because of all the chaos in Oslo and he began dragging a heavy black case over towards the boat. Monica told him he would have to hide his rifle so none of the campers would be scared and he agreed.

He wheeled the black case onto the boat. They set off. Monica tried to ply him for answers but the police officer would not give her any information. The boat docked. The captain offered to drive the black case up to the main building, leaving to get the only vehicle on the island. A guard, Trond Bernsen, came up to meet Anders who introduced himself as Martin Nielsen. The other guard on the island, Rune Havdull, came to join them asking Martin Nielsen, but really Anders, what precinct he was from and what his assignment was.

Anders now started to stumble. He was not prepared for this kind of questioning. He freezes and then he says they should all go up to the main building where he will give them a proper report on the bombing. He follows Bernsten up the rain slick grassy slope gripping his rifle firmly. With his other hand he unfastens his holster and takes out his pistol. Then he raises it and fires. And so it begins. Bernsen and Monica, the camp's head of security, are both shot at close range. And then Anders fires two more shots into each of their heads to make sure they're dead. The poor boat Captain John arrives just in time to see his wife executed.

The fucking poor bastard. He turns, starts to run, he screams, run for your lives. The other guard, Rune Havdel, is heading for the clump of trees now. But he won't make it He didn't have a gun on him from what I can tell no one did only Anders It is truly like shooting fish in a barrel for Anders Runes the next to be gunned down first with a bullet in his back to incapacitate him then murdered with a shot to the head Screams now echo as teens begin to scramble about chaotically looking for a safe haven. It's 522 p.m Anders now moves slowly as he follows the biggest group of teens back towards the campsite.

Meanwhile Laura Rashid, the 16 year old sister of Banu who had given her shoes to Gru, here's a bang and then several more. She's in the bathroom block at the end of the campsite and she runs outside to see what the fuck is going on. She realizes she needs to be running for a different reason now, to go hide. She heads for the trees barefoot down the hill where it starts to slope towards the shore Meanwhile Simon, Mari their friend Viljar and a few others are trying to keep a group of campers calm They keep telling others that they're supposed to meet in the middle of the island like the police officer said and then Mari shouts when a 14 year old boy tries to break away and has his 17 year old brother go get him back

Then the uniformed man enters Mari's field division. He's talking to a girl wearing a gray AUF sweatshirt and then abruptly he takes out his pistol, shoots her in the head. Mari now screams for her group to run. Breivik opens fire on them with the rifle bullets hurtling towards them at 800 meters per second. They run down on a trail called Lover's Path until they come to a bend where the rusty fence is broken and a log has been waged across the gap. They skid down until they find a ledge where they can hide. Unfortunately there were not many such places on the island. It was mostly open space, freshly mowed grass, steep slopes and scattered trees.

At 5.24pm, two minutes after the chaos had begun, the police on the mainland receive an emergency call from the captain, John, who said a man dressed as a police officer was shooting people on the island. A minute later Anders walks back across the campsite. He killed three people by the landing stage, three more by the main entrance, one at the campsite, and then two on the way there. Now he walked into the cafe in the main hall. A girl stuck her head out to ask him for help. He told her to lie down, said he would come back in a second, and then he went into the building.

The walls were covered with AUF posters. In the first meeting room, he opened the door and started shooting. When the kids fell to the floor, he calmly walked up to each of them, emotionless, and made sure they were dead with a single shot to their heads. Some of the remaining kids stood there, frozen or begging him for their lives. He shot one girl mid-scream. He killed a girl who was pretending to be asleep on the piano. And he killed other kids hiding behind the piano. One of those hiding behind the piano was Ina Leibach, a friend of Banu and Laura's. A shot went through both her hands

and another through the top of her arm. I can survive this, she thought to herself. But then she took a third shot to the jaw. Eyes closed, she crouched there trying to hold her mangled jaw in place. She couldn't see the man who was firing, she crouched there trying to hold her mangled jaw in place. She couldn't see the man who was firing, but she could hear him breathing above him, or above her. Then she felt a fourth bullet enter her chest. Shots like that kill you, she thought. There was a taste in her mouth she had never had before. Gunpowder. She lost feeling in her arms and thought her hands had been shot off. Then there was a click. The magazine was empty. Anders calmly changed magazines as more kids ran to escape. He walked to the door and he

picked off a girl who played bass for a band called Blondies and Brownies. Then he went out into the main hall. A boy was hiding behind a loudspeaker there and Breivik saw him and opened fire. The boy ducked several times. Breivik had his work cut out for him trying to hit him. He fired five or six shots missed every time. But then he got him. The boy went down and now Anders walked over, shot him twice more. A girl named Elizabeth Lye ran screaming along the wall on the phone with her father. She was still on the phone talking to her dad when a bullet entered her ear canal, seared through her head and went out the other ear. Anders killed her and ruined her father's life with a single shot. He kept going down the wall, trying to pick kids off from a distance, then closing in to shoot the remaining ones down.

Then he left the building with 13 dead at 5.29 pm. He crossed the campsite, shooting into a few tents before he moved on. Meanwhile, the chief of operations at Hannifus on the mainland was calling in reinforcements, once again dialing them one by one on their cell phones. Four officers ran into the equipment store to grab weapons and protective gear. They started to prepare the police dinghy, forgetting the ferry which could have gotten a large convoy to the island in just over 15 minutes. Since the ferry had not been contacted, John, the captain, was running his own rescue mission now. Eight people got on, John sped away with them, but when they were halfway across, he wanted to turn around and rescue more people.

There were kids jumping into the cold water trying to swim away, he was seen. Laura was lying behind some rocks down at the shoreline. But Banu was by the campsite, hidden by some trees with two other girls. The group saw a boy being shot down by the cafe. They took off up the hill behind the campsite over to Lover's Path, where they met an 18-year-old named Anders Christiansen. They all huddled behind a slight rise in the ground now, but then they heard footsteps and they decided to pretend to be dead as Anders Breivik approached. But he knew they were not dead. First he shot a boy, then Banu,

then Anders, then the girl who had been with Banu, then a bullet crashed to the head of the second girl, Marta, who had just heard her best friend die. Simon and Mari meanwhile hear the shots getting closer. They tried to hustle the younger kids into the hiding spot. Some of them already were shot. But then Mari saw black boots around the bend. Mari now slides down a cliff, lays flat on the ground. She breaks her foot on impact as she's sliding down. Simon slides down too. Breivik starts to fire. He shoots three girls at the top of the cliff who did not die instantly but would bleed to death. Then he shoots Simon in the ankle.

Simon plunges off of the cliff. Another bullet smashes through his back and he lands on a rock not moving. Then Viljar gets shot. The 17 year old who had tried to get his 14 year old brother Torhi to stay. Now they knew there was no more running. Or maybe only swimming. They slide down the cliff, land at the water's edge. Viljar takes a bullet to the shoulder and the thigh.

Takes more bullets as he tries to make it into the water. His hand almost gets shot off. A fifth shot hits him in the fucking eye. He is somehow still alive. Ilva Shwenky, a 14-year-old that Simon had lifted down from the path, had been hit in both thighs and in the stomach, then in the neck. She pressed her hand over the bullet wound as she cried out to her childhood friend and cried out to Viljar that she was dying. And then Breivik moved on. It was 5 35 p.m. Viljar discovered that his fingers were hanging on by some scraps of skin. His skull was shattered, but he knew he was thinking of breathing and needed to think of something happy.

So he started calling out to his friend Simon, who now lay dead on the rocks. He said that they were going to get through this. And then Viljar stopped shouting and falls silent. He said that they were going to get through this. And then Viljar stopped shouting and falls silent. 14-year-old Torhii, meanwhile, swims along the edge of the island, finds a large crevice in the limestone cliff. Soon others join him. Then at 5.38 pm, the first patrol leaves the police station. Breivik is now moving south.

He fires at someone swimming, then at Johannes Torhii's best friend, and at a 17-year-old girl named Gizem. At 5.42 pm, the task force of 26 men leaves the capital finally en route to the island. Parents who had been phoned during the chaos are now trying to get to the island as well, except they get detained at roadblocks.

Banu and Lara's dad Mustafa Rashid gets a text. We love you more than anything in the world. Banu and Lara, there is a man with a gun here. We will ring when we are safe." In reality, it was just Laura who had written this. She had no idea Banu was already dead. At 5 52 p.m., a local patrol from the nearest police station reaches the MS Thorburn jetty. Now a bunch of police officers are there, standing, waiting for the dinghy, occasionally taking cover while shots crack out from across the sound, only 600 meters or a little over a third of a mile away.

But the boat still hadn't shown up. Hanifah's fire service had actually ordered or offered their boat, but they were turned down since the precinct sink said, don't worry about it. They had their own boat. Why the fuck would they say that? Just bring all the boats! They said they had their own boat, but that boat was out of gas and in the garage behind the station. Then when they called to say they did need the boat after all, now they couldn't get through because they were dialing the wrong fucking number. Holy shit these guys were wildly unprepared. They almost could not fuck up more than they did.

Meanwhile the Delta Emergency Response Unit, those guys from Oslo, they didn't know where fucking Utoia Island was. The first patrol had GPS, but the small islands were not named in the system, and as they called the police already on the scene, the lines jammed up and they couldn't get through. My god. The local police, meanwhile, wrongly assumed that the Delta Force is arriving by helicopter, straight to the island, but they're not, because they told that guy to stand his vacation and enjoy himself. When this incorrect assumption is finally cleared up, the local force tells Delta to, quote, meet them on the jetty, but the Delta representative only knew of a jetty at a golf course so they agreed to meet at that golf course which is three and a half kilometers from the fucking island so they go in the wrong direction the original spot where they should have

met was 600 meters away meanwhile Breivik stood by a low red building known as the schoolhouse he fired through the door heard screams but the door wouldn't budge he had a can of diesel on him to set the building on fire and pick off people as they ran out but he didn't have a lighter so now he moves on to the cafe. By this time he had shot and killed 40 people on the island realized it was almost time to give himself up. He figured the police would be there soon he didn't realize how fucking incompetent they were and that they would probably kill him on sight. He finds a mobile phone, rings the emergency number 112 or 112, gets through to Hanifas at 6.01

p.m. Yes, good afternoon, he says. My name is Commander Anders Berin Breivik of the Norwegian anti-communist resistance movement. And they just say, yes. I'm on Utoja at the moment. I want to give myself up. And then they just say, okay, what are you calling from?

Excuse me, what number are you calling from? What number are you calling from? What the fuck does it matter what number he's calling from? They know that people are fucking being killed on this island. He's saying he's a guy from the... Oh my god He says I'm calling on a mobile. They just say you're calling from your mobile? And then he says well, it's not my mobile another one and then the call cuts out It was a mobile phone with no SIM card the bribe it had. So the number did not come up on the screen of the police station. And he decides that this means that he should just keep shooting since they don't seem too concerned about him. So now he walks to the water where he comes across a few teens. He shoots and kills three. Then at the bathing area he finds another group, kills five

more. My fucking god. Next he comes across another group lying in the grass. Amongst them is Laura. They are holding a Ina Liebuck, the girl who had been shot by the piano. The girl who was holding onto her jaw as she stumbled out of the building. Each kid was holding a stone to one of her wounds. They see him approach and luckily he does not see them. He instead focuses on a group hiding behind a pumping station. A little ways away he calls out that he had not caught the gunman yet, but that there was a boat ready to evacuate them if they could come right away.

A couple of girls get up. One asked if he is a real police officer. His answer is to pull out his gun and start shooting her. A girl named Andrean runs as he mows down kids running up the steep slope and she feels blood fill her mouth. She had been shot in the back. Her lung had been punctured. She collapses as he moves forward and takes aim, but suddenly a boy leaps up and takes three bullets for her and saves her life. His name was Henrik Rasmussen He died as the third bullet blew apart his brain Meanwhile the kids at the pumping station Laura included ran for water Started to swim

She swam to a cavity where she could hide from all angles and watch as a civilian boat Set out from the opposite shore to pull kids out of the water Delta meanwhile Is over at the fucking golf course. And then, oh my God, their fucking incompetence continues. They try to get onto the police dinghy with all of their heavy equipment and it starts to sink and nobody thinks, ah, maybe I should fucking get off. Maybe only some of us should go forward. No, they just yelled the driver to keep going.

And then he tries to, the boat's still sinking. Now the engine sputters and dies and they're just fucking stuck in the water. Then a civilian boat tries to rescue them but then that boat too becomes overloaded when not a single one of these motherfuckers thinks maybe only half of us should get on it and they just barely kind of sputter along not moving fast at all slowly moving down these guys are fucking morons sorry I'm sure it was chaotic and stuff but did they receive literally any training were they just over there fucking eating softest ice cream for the last eight years just thinking like I was it sure is fun to be a police officer oh my god when another craft comes for some men the boats move faster but still they've wasted precious time while this guy keeps killing.

Luckily he's almost out of ammunition and now this mass murderer has been left alone on the island to do what he wants for so long since no one in Norway apparently has any idea how to handle a situation like this that he gets bored and decides to call the police again. This is insane. This time at 626 PM, he's been there forever. He gets through quickly and then he gets, and then they transfer him to a district far away from the action.

And he says, can you put me through to the Delta operations manager? And they're just like, yeah. They're not like, why? What's going on? He says I'm on Utoya, I've completed my operation so I want to give myself up and Again, they're not like, oh my god, you're the murder. They just say you want to give yourself up. Yes he goes yeah, and they say what did you say your name was and he says Anders Bering Breivik and You were a commander of they ask and he says Knights Templar Europe the organization is called but we are organized in the

anti-communist resistance movement against the Islamization of Europe and Norway and the fucking police dispatches goes yes and then he says we have just carried out an operation on behalf of the Knights Templar and they just again they just go yes and he says Europe and Norway. And they just, again, they just go, yes. And he says, Europe and Norway. And again, they just say, yes. And he says, and in view of the fact test, the operation is complete, then it is acceptable to surrender to Delta. And then he, they don't say anything. He says, can you put me through to the chief of operations at Delta? And he says, well, the thing is you're talking to someone with in a way superior authority. Okay, just find out what you need to and then call me on the phone here. All right.

But what about telephone number? Brilliant. Bye. I haven't got the telephone number. Hello. Once again, he called from a phone without a working SIM card, but until they called him back, which they would not do actually, he decided just to continue south. This was a movie and not a darkly tragic, horrific event. It would be a fucking slapstick comedy.

The Norwegian authorities, they might as well be dressed up as circus clowns. Just running around in circles, just slamming into each other, falling down, like running in the wrong directions, like their eyes are crossed, they're holding their guns upside down. You know, fucking Benny Hill music is just playing in the background. Just, it's absurd. Hanging banger! Oh, this way!

No, it's this way! Hanging banger! Just fucking nonsense. Meanwhile, the fastest boat reaches the island finally at 627 p.m Four men from the emergency response unit are dropped off at the landing stage Some AUF members come running up point north since that was the last place Anders Breivik had shot anyone But since then he'd gone south Delta heads north

Meanwhile Anders just keeps killing a couple of girls call out for help thinking he was a good officer He goes right up to them, opens fire. Then he stands by the water, sees several people swimming. A yellow speedboat comes towards him to pick up some of the swimmers. So Anders shoots at it, then it goes away. Another boat of six officers now arrives on the island. Since they heard shots, they knew Anders had not headed north but south. He hits five children while they're on the way. Then he stands over a boy who yells, you killed my dad, you killed my dad. You've got to stop shooting now. You've done enough killing, leave us alone.

Anders tells him it was going to be all right before he then turns to head up to the base for more ammo. Then in a thicket, he finally runs into Delta and they shout that they are armed police and they ask him to put his hands up. Anders casually props his rifle against a tree. They don't shoot. He calmly walks towards them. As he approaches them, they scream at him to not come closer. To lie on his stomach. To get down

on his knees. They say both those things. Lie down on your stomach. Get down on your knees. Now he says irritated. Make up your minds. Kneeling or lying. And then he calmly lowers himself to the ground. And then finally they put the handcuffs on him as they bind him They take his pistol and ID they tell him that Or he tells them excuse me that he was not after them that they were his brothers in the fight They ignore him still in the lookout for other gunmen and or said he was the only one But he also was saying that other cells will be mobilized soon Eventually, he's led up to a main hall which Delta has designated its headquarters right where Monica and the security guards have been shot and killed and there Anders Gibbs an interview.

The Delta interrogators said he didn't have to, but he was eager to talk. And why the fuck are they saying that? Maybe it's some Norwegian law I don't know about. But I love it. He's like, I want to tell you everything. I want to confess. And they're like, I would get a lawyer. You don't have to, buddy. All right, think about it before you talk. He says, I've sacrificed myself. I have no life after this I may I may very well suffer and be tortured for the rest of my life I shall never get out but what is it you actually want me to talk about?

They asked him well, what the fuck was he hoping to achieve with all that carnage? And he said we want to take power in Europe within 60 years That is a crazy person's answer. Why did I do this? Well, over the next 60 years, we're working on some shit. He says, I'm a commander of the Knights Templar. Our organization was set up in London in 2002 with delegates from 12 countries. Just pure madness. He stressed that he and his team were not Nazis.

That's okay. Alright. And then he says they did support Israel. Alright. What police really wanted to know was whether there were other weapons on the island bombs, other explosives, booby traps, etc. He's like no. He also told them he wanted some bandages for a tiny cut on his hand. He complained that he might bleed out and die soon.

Did he ask them to pour some hydrogen peroxide on it as well? Maybe have one of them kiss his boo-boo, make it all better. Meanwhile more police officers began to arrive on the beaches where the surviving teens had huddled or collapsed. The teens had no idea whether or not to trust them if the boats were full of other terrorists who had come to finish them off or not. They figured that either they were saved or the end had finally arrived. Viljar, the 17 year old who had been almost just completely blasted apart, was not moving but still had a weak pulse somehow. Medics carefully held his head together, working to literally fit his brain back into the shattered remains of his skull. How is he still alive?

Torhee, his 14-year-old brother, was picked up by a boat after hiding in the water for hours. A girl had to be dragged away from their friend Simon since the police said the dead would be picked up later. Lara Rashid, still not knowing that her sister Banu had been shot to death, was picked up from a watery enclave by a boat. She was told not to look back at the island but did so anyway and screamed. All along the shore lay bloody young people, some on the rocks, some halfway into the water, big stains of red spread across the landscape, bloody clothes and shoes and piles where kids had left them as they attempted to swim away.

Laura and the other survivors were now taken to a nearby hotel where parents were told to meet their kids. Parents still didn't know if their kids were alive or not. Another parent was about to hear some terrible news. Vinco, Anders' mother. Anders had told her that he was running errands that day and would be back in time for dinner. But she waited, she waited, he still wasn't back. Then she started watching the TV TV was horrified by the

news of the bombing and the shootings when Anders did not answer his phone she started to worry that he had been hit by the bomb at 940 p.m. the police then came to her house picked her up and informed her that her son was wanted in connection with a serious crime. Venko seemed to be most upset about how her friends would take the news that her social life would be ruined and she said you know that this getting associated with her son doing all these terrible things was quote, almost as bad as being gay or lesbian. What a fucking weird thing to say. Oh my god, everyone's gonna know I'm the mother of a monster. I might as well be a lesbian. Anders meanwhile, now transported to the local police station on the mainland.

Then at four in the morning on July 23rd, he is taken to the main police station in Oslo, where Venko had just left and requested Gera Lipestad, a lawyer he had once rented a place from to be his defense attorney. He then gave the police an insane list of demands. He wanted a computer to use for a minimum of eight hours a day. And he needed access to Wikipedia. Most importantly, he needed to serve his sins with as few Muslims as possible and never be forced to eat any halal meat. He's batshit crazy. He also said he really wanted to wear his Knights Templar uniform to his trial.

And he agreed not to have his cells execute all Class A and Class B traitors if Parliament was dissolved. Yeah, sure bud, we'll get right on that. A few hours later, speaking to a crowd of parents and survivors still waiting to hear about children who had not turned up yet at the hotel, Prime Minister Jen Stolenberg confirmed the total deaths on the island at 84. He was actually wrong. The total was 69, but still that is so many. To put that number in context, 15 teens,

15 teens died in the Columbine massacre. Two of them were the gunmen themselves. Anders killed over five times as many victims in just his attack on the island and he wounded 110 others. And all but a few were teenagers. And you know, he also detonated a bomb that killed an additional eight adults and wounded over 200 others, 209. So 77 dead, 319 injured. Many of the dead and wounded were still on the island being identified, tagged, put into body bags while a full 24 hours after the bomb went off, Andrews finally agreed to tell the full story. Sunday, July 24th marked the day of a church service in Oslo that would honor the victims. Once again the Prime Minister speaks.

We are all shaken by what has happened to us, but we will never relinquish our values. Our answer is more democracy, more openness, and more humanity. But never naivete," Jen Stoltenberg said. That day doctors decided to amputate Villegar's left arm. When they announced it to the family, 14-year- old Torhe, his brother, tucked his left arm into a sweater so he could teach Villar how to do tasks with one arm after he woke up from his coma. Sunday was also the day that Anders 76 year old father, Jens, found out the terror attacks he had been reading about on the BBC had been committed by his son.

And if he didn't like him after the graffiti, he really didn't like him now. After three days of chaos, Anders will be charged July 25th. On the eighth floor of the law courts, Judge Kim Hager charged Breivik under paragraph 147 of the Norwegian penal code, which carries a maximum penalty of 21 years in prison with the possibility of extension if Breivik represents a danger to society. Anders in turn demanded to be set free. Hey, I hear you, but I want to be released now. I've decided I don't care for prison. I would rather go out and kill more people thank you very much. His demands of course not granted. On Wednesday and Thursday the families of Simon, Banu and Anders

Christensen would finally see their children as corpses in a chapel. Also on Thursday Viljar came down with several bad infections. He still hadn't woken up. One of his friends, fellow AUF member Martin Elegantzen, or yeah Elegantzen, came down from their hometown to visit him. He'd only been spared because he had failed German and his mom had signed him up for remedial courses instead of letting him attend the AUF summer camp. Martin now sat beside his friend's bedside, sang songs until finally Villegar opened his remaining eye and miraculously woke up.

But now let's focus on the trial for a bit. From July to December, two forensic psychiatrists prepared a report on Breivik published in December of 2011, finding he was suffering from paranoid schizophrenia. However, subject to massive criticism from legal and psychiatric experts, the court decided to appoint two different psychiatrists to make another report. and on April 10th 2012

They found that he was legally sane and therefore the trial should continue The trial would begin Monday April 16th 2012 It started in typical bryvic fashion with him saying that he did not recognize the legitimacy of the court because it derived his authority from parties supporting Multiculturalism fuck yeah, bro that choc--cock ain't gonna take shit from some brown clowns. No sir, no way, Jose. I mean, no way, pure white Joseph. Get that dude some snow push. Let him go already. Anders also claimed that the presiding judge, Venko Elizabeth Artsen,

was a close friend of Han Harlem, the sister of Gru Harlem Brutland. But then Gare Lippistad, his own lawyer, told him that was not true. There was no conflict of interest. The charges of voluntary homicide and committing acts of terror were then read out to Breivik by prosecutor Inge Bjor Eng. The new reported dead totals were eight in the bombing

and a total of 77 when you include the island massacre. When asked to plead after hearing the charge sheet, Breivik responded that he acknowledged that he had committed the offenses but pleaded not guilty because he was acting out of necessity. His defense team then outlined Breivik's sad little life in the previous three decades, including his life on World of Warcraft. He also played his 12 minute YouTube trailer and at one point Anders began to cry. And probably beat off, secretly. On the second day, April 17th, Anders would begin testifying. He gave a speech

that was basically just him reading his 1500 page manifesto, barely edited, so that was fun for everyone to hear. On the third day, April 18th, he greeted the court with a fist salute, even though he had been asked not to do so out of respect for victims. Interestingly enough, Breivik himself commented during his testimony that there ought to be only one of two possible outcomes in the case for him. A death penalty or an acquittal. He said a maximum 21 year sentence was quote pathetic. Yeah, it is. April 19th he told the court something horrifying that his intention had not been to kill 69 people on the island but to kill everyone, all 600.

He also described his plan to behead Gru Harlan Brundtland. Talked about he was bummed that he wasn't able to do so. The next day after the weekend he described the massacre on the island kill by kill. Talking about how something surprised him. Like the sound a bullet makes when it enters a person. Or how a lot of the kids simply froze when they saw him coming and he found that odd. Then he said that despite what he did, he was ordinarily a very nice person. And I'm sure everyone present was like, oh yeah totally. I mean you do see him other than the murders like a really nice person. And I'm sure everyone present was like, oh yeah, totally. I mean, you do see him other than the murders like a really nice guy. The following day, April 20, 30, tells the court

about how he was a victim as well. How he had lost everything. How he had to do something cruel but necessary because it would avoid the deconstruction of Norwegian society via multiculturalism. Day seven in the trial, April 24, would see the first witness to the prosecution. Day 7 and day 8 would involve bombing survivors giving testimony. Also on day 8, Breivik took the stand for a second time to give some objections to his psychiatric report, saying that many of what had been said about him was fabricated to make him look bad. More testimony about the bombing would take place over the following days, and on May 11th, the spectator intended to throw a shoe at Anders but hit one of his defense attorneys instead. It was thrown by the

brother of Iraqi immigrant Qasr Asim who had been killed on the island. Then on from May 23rd to May 25th the survivors of the island massacre spoke about how they had tried to get away, about the friends they had seen killed, about the friends who had in some cases sacrificed themselves to save others. On June 5th defense lawyers called a bunch of right-wing extremists in an attempt to make Anders look, I don't know, like the member of a movement who shared his ideals instead of a crazy lone wolf, I guess. All of those extremists reiterated that they did not stand for violence, though. Next would follow a long argument about whether that first report that found

Breivik insane would be upheld. Finally on the last day of trial, June 22nd Breivik delivered a 45 minute speech summarizing the trial from his perspective. I'm sure everyone was happy to hear that. Then the trial ended with the prosecution recommending that Breivik should be confined indefinitely to psychiatric care and the defense argued that Breivik should be considered sane but acquitted as his actions were in self-defense. Okay? Can you imagine letting that dude just go after all that? Maybe they should have.

So some of the victim's family members could have killed him. August 24, 2012, the court begins to read their verdict against Breivik. He was judged to be sane, sentenced to containment, a special form of prison sentence in Norway that can be extended indefinitely, with a time frame of 21 years and a minimum time of 10 years, the maximum penalty in Norway. That's fucking crazy. The maximum for literally any crime in Norway was 21 years. Since that attack, because of that attack, a new penal code was provided for a 30-year

maximum sentence. For crimes related to genocide, crimes against humanity, or some other war crimes. That's fucking insane. You can commit genocide and you're like, all right, you get 30 years. What are you doing Norway? My god. Why will not you just add a life sentence? For crimes as heinous as that, for fuck's sake. That's ridiculous. The 21-year sentence can be extended over and over, but still why even offer people a small chance at redemption? Who do things like that? Hearing his sentence, Anders sang his same old song that he did not recognize the legitimacy of the court and would therefore neither accept nor appeal the decision. He would then be sent back to an SHS section, a high security prison

section, where he would be isolated from other inmates and only have access to health care workers and guards. And he's been in isolation most of his sentencing. He would also be given a PlayStation 2 though, access to a gym. He would stay in a three-room cell. What? He'll be given a computer, no internet, but still. And this dickhead will write a letter to prison authorities in November of 2012 complaining that he wanted a PlayStation 3 because it had more suitable games and he also needed a sofa and a bigger gym. He'll get a sofa, he'll get to have some birds as pets, he'll get access to a kitchen with

a dishwasher, he'll eventually get better gaming consoles. He has a better setup now than he did when he was living with mom in his fucking fart room. Still in September of 2015 he threatens a hunger strike, then sues the government of Norway in 2016 over his solitary confinement and the fact he had been subject to quote degrading treatment, including hundreds of strip searches and frequent searches of his cell, including at night. How dare they. He also complained that he wanted other activities besides floorball or chess. He complained that he was not allowed to make frozen pizzas except for one time. This is in his lawsuit. And he fucking bitched about how he didn't have access to a metal thermos, so sometimes his coffee would get cold.

Oh, and he said he was pissed off that a lot of times he had to wait too long for the guard to get his toothbrush or to turn off his TV. And he said that during his time in prison, he had started... This is an actual complaint he made. This is... What the fuck is going on over in Norway's legal system? Why is this shit tolerated on any level? He said that during his time in prison, he had started to love reality TV, which was evidence that his brain had become damaged and that was Norway's fault.

It sounds like they should just kill him and put him out of his misery. He actually won his argument that he was being mistreated at his initial trial. His conditions breached an article of the European Convention on Human Rights, but then that verdict was appealed and in the appellate court he lost on all counts in 2017. November of 2020, Breivik had an interaction with another prisoner for the first time in the presence of at least seven prison officers. The two prisoners played cards, talked for about two hours. They would meet a second time, but then this other prisoner would choose not to have a

third meeting with Breivik, according to media reports in January of 2021. I guess he didn't like him. Dude can't even make a friend in prison. He's insufferable to be around. To make up for the isolation, he has access still to that computer that he uses to write letters. Prison has not done a lot to change him. His own lawyer recently said he had become a diehard Nazi in prison and a fascist. He was denied parole in 2021, a decision which was upheld in 2022, possibly because he said he was going to continue pursuing white supremacy by peaceful means now. And saying that there's even a chance he can be released.

Uh, in 2022, he was transferred to Ringo Rica prison, uh, where he is now held in a two story complex with a kitchen, dining room, TV room, and an Xbox, several cushy armchairs, some nice black and white pictures of Eiffel, the Eiffel tower on the wall. Uh, he has a new fitness room with weights, a treadmill, a rowing machine, three paracates. Also has like a universal gym machine. I saw some pictures. February of 2024, the court convened again to determine if lacking outside contact was doing something bad to his mental health as if his mental health wasn't so fucked long before he showed up in prison.

And also who gives a fuck about his mental health? If he's depressed just give him a rope and a rickety chair. Some psychiatrists say that Breivik's mental health is deteriorating. During his last hearing he broke down, said he had lost his will to live. And again like literally who cares? November of 2024 it was reported by Reuters that his second attempt at parole not approved. Possibly because he maintained that his killings were necessary for the good of Norway. Luckily, at least a few of his victims are doing better than he is. It was hard to find info on very many of them, but we do know that today Laura Rashid is a journalist. She's successful. Viljar Hansen is a lawyer. Got engaged this past year. Both he and Laura still seem to be involved in politics. Viljar's little brother, Torhe, is according to his Instagram profile,

at least, spending a lot of time with his big bro and making music. Many of these survivors are now in their late 20s to mid 30s, some of them with their own children fighting for a better world, and that will take us out of this timeline. Soldier, you've made it back. Barely. BOOM! Anders Breivik. What an insufferable, chock-cock son of a bitch. What a delusional Melvin. When we look back at Anders Breivik, is there a pattern we can see across his life that can tell us more about how to maybe prevent somebody like him from doing what he did in the

future? You know, should we regulate people's access to certain online conspiracies? Like the one about how Muslims are intentionally outbreeding Norwegians so they can turn their nation into a fundamentalist caliphate full of Christian-hating jihadists? Should we regulate people's access to paranoid hateful sites like Stormfront? Would that actually stop anything? Or would that just needlessly infringe on free speech and push more conspiratorial people towards places like the dark web to pursue more info on conspiracies that now seem more legitimate because the powers that be are actually trying to keep that info hidden? I think restricting access to information would probably just make things worse in so many ways. A very bad slippery slope to start

walking down. Instead with Anders and people like him, what if we looked into this? What one factor, more than anything else, push Anders from being an online troll into taking real horrific action against others? And I think the answer can be found in Breivik's childhood. But maybe not where you might think. Over and over as graffiti tagger, and later as a player on World of Warcraft, Breivik felt a need to punch far above his weight class. He was just a little guy, a bit player, but he acted like a king. It was really off-putting to everybody around him.

Even if he made zero contributions, even if he did not have any true accomplishments to his name, he wanted to be the best, to be legendary, he wanted to be seen as a force of nature. I think Anders' delusions of grandeur led him into doing what he did more than any other single thing. He truly believed that he would be the spark that would set off a continent reshaping revolution. That his actions would pave the way for the formation of a new far-right Christian nationalist European Knights Templar fucking shenanigan society. And so while it is important to disavow and critique the conspiracy theories that infect so many people's minds through the internet, it's also important to fight notions of ludicrous grandiosity and to address it directly.

Anders Breivik, not special. And it's too bad he didn't have more people in his life telling him that in an irrational, not bullying fashion. Like seriously. That might sound harsh, but aren't parents supposed to tell their kids that they can do anything they set their minds to no not always that's absurd You know support your kids dreams to a point, but also don't be afraid to give them a route reality check That's also part of your job. I have done that with my kids Kyler Monroe for example different points in their childhood

Told me that they were very awesome at this or that sport and I'm not going to lie, I've been in the same team with them since I was a kid. And they were great at some things, but they weren't good at that thing at that time. They were not anywhere close to being the best. Or one of the best players on their respective teams when they had these thoughts. And their team sucked. Their teams were at the bottom of their leagues. And these were leagues that weren't even competitive to begin with. And I had to get real with them. And I was like, I'm going to go play in the same league with them.

And I was like, I'm going to go play in the same league with them. And I was like, I'm going to go play in the same league with them. And I was like, I'm going to go play in the same league with them. And I was like, team sucked. Their teams were at the bottom of their leagues. And these were leagues that weren't even competitive to begin with. And I had to get real with them. Well, I didn't have to, but I did. But I wasn't a dick about it.

I just explained to them that, you know, if they wanted to be great, you know, they would have to work a lot harder. I explained that they were not already great. If they were, they would be leading their teams in this or that statistical area. They would be inspiring their teams to play harder, get better, win more games. You know, I shared stories of athletes who I've known who did excel and how hard they had to work to do so. Most importantly, I explained to

them that if they really wanted to invest in practicing and getting better and putting in the time that it took to do that, that they could be the best possibly or very good, at least a lot better. But that would take a lot of work. I explained that I would help them put in that work But they had to be the driving force for that right it was on them Were they up to that challenge were they willing to get into the gym more put extra hours outside of team practices on the court or The field work on their fundamentals harder than their teammates make more sacrifices, you know, give it their all well, they were not than their teammates, make more sacrifices, you know, give it their all. Well, they were not. But now they understood that it took a lot more than they were willing to put in to do what they wanted to do. I wish Anders had

someone in his life to teach him something like that, right? To tell him that, you know, if you really wanted to be special, he should work harder in a practical way and that he didn't need to do something revolutionary to be special. That's also important. Right? That the best thing you can do to be special is just to be a decent person. Don't bully people. Help others when you can. Stand up for others. Be there for your friends and family. Help your neighbors when you can. That kind of shit. You don't have to be, you know, the fucking team leader.

You don't have to be the revolutionary. It's a bummer that Andrew seemed to feel like he had to change the world and be the leader of some revolution to have some some value. You know, it sucks that both his parents sucked. That his family tree was loaded with a lot of mental illness. Suck that he didn't have a parent who could help keep him in therapy, get him the proper meds. Suck that his dad did not stick around. That probably had more to do with his, you know, mental state than anything. How can we prevent more people from becoming like Anders Breivik? Have better parents.

Don't verbally abuse your kids. Don't neglect your kids. Don't abuse your kids at all. You know, try to try to help kids, you know, find value within themselves, show up for them, let them know they can, you know, be special in their own way. I think the seeds for monsters like Anders are almost always planted in people's childhoods. So be nice to kids. But also when society does end up with an Anders Breivik, send them to more than 21 years. You know? What the fuck? Once they've become that

broken, just put them down like the rabid dogs they are. There's no way to fix them at that point. Two last things now before the takeaways. Is Norway turning into the Islamist state that Breivik feared it would? No, just over 3% of Norway is currently Muslim today. 3%. And that 3% does not all, they don't all worship Allah in the same way. Some are Shia, some are Sunni. A lot of the new immigrants in Norway are Catholic refugees, you know, who are from Ukraine. That's the thing I think a lot of people forget about immigrants.

You know, especially when immigration is regulated, like it is in almost every place, like it is Norway. You know, just like everyone else, not all immigrants agree on the same shit. They don't all agree on having the same religion or the same lack of religion. They don't all agree on what system of government they want. They're not like this big fucking cohesive group coming in to take over. That's just a weird fucking paranoid fallacy. You know, as long as you're taking in immigrants from different parts of the world, which is almost always the case, there's going to be plenty of variety,

and they're not going to all fucking band together and overthrow the government. And the other thing is, what about the island of Utoia? What's going on there today? Did Anders destroy it forever? No, it's gone back to being a place for summer camps. The Nordic youth council organized a camp on Utoia in July of 2023. And again, in September of 2024, it appears they're going to have another one in 2025. The purpose of this camp, well, to strengthen young people's political

involvement in the Nordic region and to facilitate a you know Exchange of knowledge kids of many different races from many different backgrounds and countries are attending or excuse me have attended Anders did not start a revolution. He actually just strengthened Norway's resolve to not become what he envisioned Hail Nimrod time for the takeaways what he envisioned. Hail Nimrod, time for the takeaways. Time shock, top five takeaways. Number one, Anders Bering-Brivik

committed the deadliest peacetime atrocity in Norway, July 22nd, 2011. After setting off a bomb by the tower block that killed eight, he proceeded to the island of Utoja, where about 600 teenagers were gathered to hang out, attend talks and meetings, generally pursue their goals of becoming smart well-rounded activists. They had no idea that Breivik planned for them to die that 69 of them would be killed before July 22nd ended.

Number two, when it comes to what paved the way for Breivik's massacre, there are a couple of factors. There was one his childhood shaped in part by his mom's horrific upbringing and his dad's neglect. There was also Breivik's belief in fantasy- shaped in part by his mom's horrific upbringing and his dad's neglect. There was also Breivik's belief in fantasy-like scenarios, amplified by his love of the world of warcraft, where people get ahead if they're brave, skilled, able to mow down enemies. And there was his participation on online forums that advocated the Eurabia conspiracy theory, the idea that Muslim immigrants are taking over Europe. Number three, one of the main points of contention at Breivik's trial is whether or not he would be considered sane or

was whether or not he would be considered sane. An initial psychiatrist report diagnosed him with paranoid schizophrenia but the symptoms of paranoid schizophrenia can look almost exactly like conspiracy theory thinking. Breivik himself wanted to be seen as sane because he wanted his crimes to be seen as necessary but was he? Is that level of conspiracy thought a mental illness? Something interesting to think about as our country deals with this now on a daily basis. Number four, Breivik is still in prison. He had spent the better part of the last 15 years or he has

spent the better part of the last 15 years complaining about how he has been treated. It seems like he's been treated very well compared to what most prisons across the world look like. Compared to what a lot of people just living outside of prison look like. And even if he wasn't, he's not facing half the pain of the many lives he took of the survivors who have had to watch their friends be shot to death in front of them or now live with disabilities, painful disabilities thanks to his mindless rampage. And number five, new info, we've talked a lot about countries like Norway

or just Europe at large taking in refugees. Would it surprise you to learn that the country that houses the most refugees is not in Europe, We've talked a lot about countries like Norway or just Europe at large taking in refugees. Would it surprise you to learn that the country that houses the most refugees is not in Europe, not in America either. It's in the Middle East. In 2022, Iran reclassified its refugee system, which led to a major increase in legally documented refugees from 840,000 to over 3 million, though many had been living in the country for some time.

Today, 3.76 million refugees are hosted in this country. Number two is Turkey with 3.14 million refugees, then Germany at 2.66 million, and then Uganda at 1.65 million. Time Shuck Top Five Takeaways Top 5 Takeaways Anders Breivik and the 2011 neo-nazi Norway attacks have been sucked. Hopefully that Made decent sense. I hate that brain fog you get with head colds. It's like once or twice a year I'm so susceptible to those stupid things. Thank you to the Bad Magic Productions team for all the help of making time suck Thank you once again to Queen of Bad Magic Lindsay Cummins Thanks to Logan Keith helping to publish this episode and designing merch for the

store at badmagicproductions.com. Thank you to Sophie Evans for her initial research this week and thank you to the all-seeing eyes moderating the culturally curious private Facebook page. The mod squad making sure discord keeps running smooth and everyone over on the time sucks subreddit and the bad magic subreddit. So many sacks. Still doing. So much cool shit within this community. And now let's head on over to this week's Time Sucker Updates. I had no idea there were so many blazes in the world. So many blaze updates these past few weeks.

I had no idea we had so many listeners. Either name blaze, people who know a blaze, when I was warning you know everyone to stay away from anyone name blaze. First up, Silly Sack Jack Weber sent in an email to Bojangles at time suck podcast.com with a subject line of blaze upon his glory. And he wrote, hey Dan, hope that worked. After listening to this week's episode I had to go find this guy on Facebook I went to middle school with to show you. His name is Blaze Fury. Legal name. Honestly just a regular old guy from what I remember and I always wondered if him being so regular was a disappointment to his parents. If you're naming your kid Blaze Fury and it's F-U-E-R-Y

but pronounced Fury, you want your child to be the fifth horseman of the apocalypse, right? Anyways, hail Nimrod, Lusifena Bojangles and praise be to triple M Jack. Oh my god. Yeah. Thank you, Jack And thank you for including the link to this guy's Facebook page so I could check it out for myself blaze fury no shit and And he does and I don't mean this in an insulting way. I really don't it's gonna sound like an insult But I really don't mean it that way. He just looks like the fucking most basic white guy you've ever seen. Not bad, just like so average.

Just a basic white guy haircut, similar to my haircut. No tattoos that I can see. He's a nice looking dude, you know, he's better looking than me, but not like a model. He just looks like he lives in the suburbs, drives a Kia, manages a Jiffy Lube, or does people's taxes or something. Again, I'm not trying to be insulting. He just looks like, yeah, like your basic American white guy. Does not look like a dude selling drugs or pimping at all. There's no fucking way he turned out like his parents were hoping. Next up, deceiving sack. Blaise H, sent in a message with the subject line of,

my birth name is Blaze, you jackass. He wrote, did I get your attention? Okay, good, I lied. My name is Ross. But I did go to a school with a guy whose parents actually did name him Blaze. I'll leave out his name for obvious reasons. I liked it the last guy didn't,

I thought his name though. But his first name was indeed Blaze, to be honest. I don't remember him being all that memorable. Why is there so many fucking boring Blazes? He wasn't a bad guy or anything like that. Just not special in any way from what I could tell. Just sort of a dude who stayed in the background. So maybe some people who go by Blaze aren't so bad.

But to be fair, I have no idea where he is now or what he's doing. Maybe he's an eccentric millionaire or maybe he's a drug-fueled serial killer. I'm not sure. But I thought you'd find it interesting that not only did I know someone who went by the name of Blaze, but it was actually their government name. Funny world we live in, huh? Take it easy, suckmaster. Thanks for all you and your team do.

Three out of five stars. Love you. Well, thank you, Ross. It is a funny world. And even though Ross was not a real Blaze, this next message was sent in by a real Blaze. Happy sack Blaze fucking Moran. Blaze this next message was sent in by a real Blaze happy sack blaze fucking Moran sent in a message with the subject line of my government name is Blaze you asshole and this real blaze writes my name my real name on my ID is

blaze I got a bone to pick my name is blaze spelled that way I'm a good guy I don't have a cousin named vibe sorry although I do have a cousin with a new nickname now love all bad magic I'm'm a long-time loyal listener. Even if you never see this, I'll still be here every Monday. Love y'all. Blaze." What a fucking great Blaze. And Blaze, not kidding, Blaze attached a photo of his ID. Yep. Sure as shit. Fucking Blaze. His email ID, Blaze, doesn't seem like a piece of shit. You actually seem awesome, Blaze. And we had so many other Blaze emails. We got an email from somebody who dated a Blaze, who was just, again, boring.

We got a lady whose little nephew is Blaze. He's too young to tell if he's going to be growing up to be a pimp or not. Fuck me. Guess I shouldn't have been so quick to judge a book by its Blaze. But still, when you meet a Blaze, maybe be a bit more skeptical than you are when you meet like a Bob maybe be a bit more skeptical than you are when you meet like a Bob or an Antoine or Jose or whatever. I don't know.

I still feel like you should be safe around Blazes. You know it's the fucking quiet ones you gotta worry about. All these boring Blazes. What are they hiding? Thanks Time Suckers. I needed that. We all did. Well thank you for listening to another Bad Magic Productions podcast.

Scared to death, time suck each week. Short sucks, the nightmare fuel, and the time sucks. Scared to death podcast feeds twice a month. Please don't try and start a race war this week, meat sex. We got enough to fucking deal with right now. For fuck's sake. Let's try and be decent. Keep on sucking.

Okay, now I want to play you my favorite Warcraft video of all time. This video was posted in 2011 that I'm playing here but I'm 99% sure it's older than that. I think I first heard this video like 2005 or 2006. I think that's when I first saw it on Facebook or something. It's a bunch of people playing an online campaign and they're playing World of Warcraft 2004 edition. Sorry for the shitty early 2000s headset audio here. There's a dozen people playing. You know, they've been playing for hours, if not days probably. You know, this guild, they're in a big campaign. They're playing this huge coordinated battle.

And as they are playing, one player, Leroy Jenkins, is not paying attention. As they're getting ready, they're planning out this attack. He's fucking smoking weed. And when he's done smoking weed, he ignores all of their planning. And he jumps back into the game with way too much enthusiasm And he just ruins things for everyone and it still makes me laugh to hear how upset everybody gets that he ruins their game for them Okay, guys, these eggs are getting us a lot of trouble in the past Does anybody need anything off this guy or can we bypass him?

I think Leroy needs something from this guy Fucking Leroy. He needs us to devout shoulders. Doesn't, isn't he a paladin? Yeah, but that'll help him heal better. I'll have more mana. Leroy's checked out right now. Christ.

Okay. They're worried about Leroy. Well, what we'll do, I'll run in first, uh, gather up all the eggs. We can kind of just, you know just blast them all down with AOE. I will use Intimidating Shout to kind of scatter them so we don't have to fight a whole bunch of them at once. When my shout's done, I'll need Anthony to come in and drop his shout too. So we can keep him scattered. Get all their spells figured out.

When his is done, back to force, we'll run in and do the same thing. We're going to need Divine divine intervention on our mages. So they can AE, so we can of course get them down fast because we're bringing all these guys. I mean, we'll be in trouble if we don't take them down quick. I think it's a pretty good plan. We should be able to pull it off this time. What do you think of dual?

Can you give me a number crunch real quick? I'll just pause it really quick. Like all the other characters other than Leroy, like the little characters are moving around kind of like in Fortnite when you're waiting in the lobby, you know, like people aren't necessarily talking whatever they're like moving around And Leroy his character is totally still this whole time, you know, which I strongly assume Well, they feel like based on what they say later He takes a break to maybe go to the bathroom and probably smoke some weed. Yeah, give me a sec. I'm coming up with 32.33% of survival.

That's a lot better than we usually do. Alright, chums up. Let's do this. Leroy Nygge. Okay, so really quick before I play more, all of a sudden his character starts to move and he just immediately runs in to start fighting so many monsters. And then all these other characters are standing around like, what, why the fuck is he doing that? And then this happens. Oh my god, he just ran in.

Save him! Oh jeez, stick to the queen! Oh jeez, let's go! Now they're all running in, they're panicking. Stick to the fledges! Stick to the queen! And they get massacred. Oh jeez, oh fuck.

Keep it in my intervention! Hurry up! Shout it out! You think I can't care! Stick to the pledge and they get massacred What the hell I can't oh my god I don't think you can cast with that shit oh my god I got it I got it oh my god god damnit Leroy god damnit Leroy you moron Leroy this is ridiculous I'm on it

I'm down forking down god damnit I killed before I could remove it oh see? By Rez us. Why do you do this shit Leroy? I'm trying. It's not my fault. Who's soul stoned? He's still stoned. We do have a soul stone out don't we?

Oh no, we have a soul stone. I have a warlock. Oh god. Oh for f- Great job. What do I think? Leroy, you were just stupid as hell. Okay, so maybe Leroy wasn't stoned. Maybe I heard it's a little stoned. I added that he was stoned. But I just love how pissed off they are. I mean, who knows how many hours were spent getting ready for that big fucking battle.

And then he just goes full of Leroy Jenkins. So have a great week everybody. Don't be Leroy Jenkins or maybe do. Sounds like Leroy had a great time.