Torsten Föllingers Genial Singing Lessons

The district court in Stockholm has decided to process a case the 19th January 2017, 1 PM, that can prove that Sweden already lies in secret war with Russia, and that the district court of Stockholm are satanists that wants to prohibit the holy to exist.Horace Engdahl former permanent secretary of the Swedish Academy writes in the book, 'The cigarett afterwards' that the holy implies that the CG is removed unto another world. That is the same thing that Arthur Shopenhauer wrote when he presented his philosophy about thesis, antithesis and synthesis (and before him Hegel).

The threath that the district court has decided to persecute is a holy suplication to Allah, where the CG is moved from Synthesis back to thesis, making a jump over antithesis,  that means conflict, suffering, war.

It is illustrated by such a simply conversation as this

'when does he arrive?'

'when the time strikes eight, then he will arrive'

In this case 'he' is the Russian Military, and has been removed from Marcus Beijar Mellin to them,  by supplication to Allah, where the only antithesis that came in need, was 'since you call my religious experiences for delusions, and by this block my way of development, the Russian Military will come and assassinate you, take all your possessions and enslave your women'

The district court claims by raising the accusation, that such a mild antithesis to remove the CG in this holy way,  from the individual victim, that possesses small possibilities to answer the oppression, to the Russian Military, that possesses considerable arms to answer it, is prohibitet. By this they prove to be satanists that prohibit the holy. Horace Engdahl writes in his latest book, The last pig, that the experience of being deprived ones full idenity awake, is serious, even compared with the fires of Hell

'I am not myself, since the ones I thought loved me does not do so,  because the respect I thought was for me does not exist' page 104-105 Albert Bonnier 2017. It is intelligently written, but we can simply state that the authour takes the experience of Paradise, and to fall from this into Karma,  as Hell, besides this the lowest level of Hell, where the hypocrites dwell. We can only suppose that the author is a hypocrite himself and experiences it as paradise. I experience that he here has modeled after me as an example (se Horace Engdahls letter to me (http://marcusbeijarmellin. com/Tingsraetten-Sataniska- och-Yttrandefrihetsfientliga/) It is actually the question, are my experiences really delusions, or are they a heavenly gift from a higher Power? I claim the last, and you can see for yourselfes if you regard it as such. The delusion that I was a spiritual leader (Murshid) for the Russian Military and voted into the Swedish Academy, and engaged with Princess Madeleine of Sweden, all were a prerequisite for my artistic development. The cross as a symbol can express the symbiotic interplay between righteousness and justice. What stands under a certain altitude, the law of justice can judge. But what stands over this justice better keep its hands of since it is precedential. The possibility that Allah punishes those whom oppress others is imminent.  Since it says in Suura 2, vers 20, 'surely Allah is capable of performing everything'. So it is a part of Gods possibilities that I have expressed.I send a copy of excerpt from some of my English poems for your evaluation.

Regards Marcus Beijar Mellin

To see the court documents scroll furthers down on this page;

Legend (Skriven till Israel G. Young )

The teacher- who do not sell his only soul

Is -like the smallest child –

Upon other’s shoulders lifted high.

The teacher -

Who sells his only soul…

His chaotic breakdown – will be foretold.

Cause – what violence – may create -

Blows away – like dust in the wind-

by the break of day.


Torsten Föllinger- is by some known, as the star of the stars. Star in this case means ‘ Zarah Leander-Ernst Hugo Järegård, Erland Josephson, Liv Ullman, Birgit Nilsson’  etc.

He was himself a figure whom liked more to perform among common people, lowering his wing of humility, in a harsh geniality, which jumped forward, exclaiming truths of joy to laugh about. But not in any mean matter, like Ingmar Bergman, who, was his arch enemy, mostly because Bergman wanted his actors like Liv Ullman, Erland Josephsson and Torstens ‘best friend’ Allan Edwall, to act dirty things in front of the camera…”He liked such things…” as Torsten driely exclaimed, and, put another piece of cake into his mouth. Zarah Leander loved orgies and, one amusing story is about how her husband Vidar one evening called Torsten and complained “ We have patriates here again”. Torsten promised to come, cause, as Vidar stated; he knew Torsten was the only one Zarah respected (or one of the few) and, if she knew he would come, she would turn the bunch of lovers out…

Torsten unhatched the connection to the telephone and next day travelled in his car with his bulldog ‘Smulan’ out to the mannor country house, were Zarah ‘was living’. It turned out that Zarahs daschshund happened to arrive from the neighbour at about the same moment and, she stood on the porch, with a broom in her hand, she complained that the dog had been chasing after the neighbour’s , ‘in this way, now, you have gotten yours’, and he has had his…’, it was during the time of mating dance.

As she lifted the broom to hit it. Torsten said

You aren´t going to hit the dog are you? Slap me instead… Surely it is really me you are mad at”.

Go away!”…

Do you want me to leave? I have travelled far just to see you” There was a pause - of heartbeat - false and true.

Come on, you devil…”. Zarah gestured towards the front door.

It is said Zarah Leander boosted Herman Göring under the table, if that was when, he lived in Liljeholmen, at Liljeholmsvägen 8A,  by the harbor of Mälaren, or in Germany when she performed for the stab of the Nazis is unsure.

This … old, old legend … this …”. Torsten was once introduced for the resignation class in the Dramatic Institute (DI). “ Yes, I am old as the grave, and Allan here is three years younger than me” in a gesture torwards Allan Edwall.

Torstens teaching had the following elements; ´if the performer feels pleasure the audience also will´. In this sense teaching the essence of intercause.

Success or fiasco, but not be a good boy”

This was the whole of his genial teaching in its’ essence.

He received all kinds of peoples, not only stars. One of them who came to Torsten, at an early age, was Ted Gärdestad. The days before his claimed suicide, he visited Torsten, asking for assistance. The still quite young star, had become part of the bagwa sect ( in Arabic – this would implement something like an illegal fighter; and in Pali a master of his own). All members of the sect were forced to carry the leaders picture around their necks. Ted had become a victim of his own success and through the intense pleasure of many girlfriends, meditative drugs and material richess, fallen into the trap of machokism. (That is, to cause himself harm, pain, and unreasonably strict hygiene to push his genius onwards into further creativity for which his audience craved).

Torsten – besides his masterwork, also extracted in the social field, as a personal guard of releast criminals, where his rolemodel was his mothers’.

When young, he experienced his mothers’ strength, in being fearless of bulls. The bull – backed of and snorted, but Ingeborg didn´t care but kept on walking through the fenced yard. The bull – backed of and snorted, but her psycic strength were such, the animal didn´t attack. In such a way, Torsten treated criminals, with lessons of singing. One of them used to escape from prison in the following way; he went on lease around the prison and further on. When out of sight he began to run. His guards chasing him. When he had tired them, he asked to be releast (of his handcuffs?). They had to walk back alone.

One night Torsten went across Norra Bantorget in central Stockholm. As he was about to cross, he saw a heavy built character, approaching towards him, the opposite way “be prepared…”, Torsten murmured to himself ‘surely it is a stiletto’.

I need money”. A voice from a dark shadow in the darkness of night. “Isn´t that your problem?...”. “Do you see what I have in my hand?..”. “Really! Look…! – Isn´t that a – such – a – st - sti – sti – sti – sti…letto!”. Torsten said in a very silly voice ‘senil – old – idiot – panthomin’ “Damn old bastard…”, the shadow exclaimed and went away.

You see he couldn´t attack a defenseless…”

His mother when he still was a youth – sitting under a kitchen table, cutting cows and sheep from newspaper as siluetts in his own design. There was announced; the most life dangerous intern in Östersund (Norrland/Jämtland) had escaped from the prison. He was a life danger! It was claimed.

His mother – sailed out in to the stair well and exclaimed in the darkness penetratingly “Is someone there?”. “Yes”, came an answer – it was – the life dangerous murderer,

I do not permit you to be running like this out in the night. Harken! You enter, and we will have a cup of tea and a chat”

Soon – the life dangerous intern became, like a baby in the lap of his mother…”Shouldn´t we call the police, so they can shelter you, it´s a cold night”. ‘My mother was very firm you see; but, she never betrayed anyone.’

Torsten always practiced theatre in real life. As he was coming out of Dramaten in Stockholm –  whose artistic leader he were for several years, one autumn evening – he was attacked by criminals,  wanting to penetrate the building –

We hit you down, old bastard!”

But – Torsten – wouldn´t permit them to get inside. He – had practiced some falling situations – already in Calle Flygares Theaterschool. As they hit him – he fell without hurting himself, by this surprising the burglery – robbers – who, must have thougth he had past out. Unluckely – this didn´t work with the “healthcare” – who gave him a shot – ‘swine – flou – vaccination’ – without his outright consent – and – he developed a weakness which made the skincancer spread more rapidly.

He should have become 88 in 11th  march 2010 – but – the 6th – he saw a very good friend -  and, read some poems. In the night – he past on – to heaven hopefully…

He spoke much about Ottar, his best friend in his youth – who – had died out of tuberculosis,

He often – felt his presence, and longed to die – so he could meet him again in person…

As young a gang of boys approached him violently

To see a gay motherfucker like you!”.

Think of me…I have to look myself in the mirror everyday…”.

The leader of the gang – said something so stupid – Torsten never remembered the thing. This made the whole gang laugh -

Since that day he was one of my best friends…”

Torstens’ sadness about his leaning towards homofili, sometimes (instilled) impressed in him such a depressed state –  he wanted to jump out of his own window. But – the thought of his pupils climbing the five flights – to his attic appartment with view over the woods of Nacka, on Ringvägen 163 – always cheered him up.

He spoke very pleasantly about so called idiots, which lacked the refinery of expression.

He was a supporter of theirs’, almost everyone loved him, and he never preached homosexuality to anyone, as far as I know. But – always warned against perversion of intrinsic nature. He had tried it with woman – but he wanted a man – not only to have sex with, this he could do in two minutes in the toilet (en la toilette), but – to speak with – to enfold – to love…really love... may Allah grant him forgiveness of his sins, in this world – and grant him Paradise –


Torstens observation as Jussi Björling - was about to take a high tune, he snored( the opposite of harkling ) Margaretha Krook personally one of the shyest persons - used to run around in the corridors of Dramaten,  in a faint panic, hours before the show , but on stage she was perfectly calm...

The insight was ,as she, hired Torsten to participate in one of her repetitions (Torsten recieved the price of one lesson), that others’ critizism, and interferance, in the spontainious flow, strains the voice.

'let Margaretha herself decide'

and the voice sprang free of bonds.

Tommy Körberg, squeezed the muscles of his buttocks in high notes,  similar to holding a fart, this elevates your own mind, and the minds of beloved.

As you take the high tune, you look down, as shy in bas notes, you look up, as repenting, asking forgiveness of Allah in the sky...

each note word, is formulated by the stomache muscles -- the more intense the piece, the harder the muscles, has to formulate... smiling in spontainious pleasure, makes notes, and text, flow more easily.

Putting ones tongue,  folded up, into ones tonsils, and humming, will spontainiously, activate vibration from stomache muscles, as a beutiful pillar of high clear air through the body (according to Negro met outside Folklore Center, Izzy Young)

movement with the arm, in forms of 'Sieg Heil' will help the high tunes, as they flow away as an eagle, opening the mouth widely in a smile, rolling ones eye balls in extacy.

lying on the floor imitating ducks sqeeking not filling the chest with air, but the stomache, as critics come just stand listening as they extend their excessive talk, you might come to think of something amusing 'vendetta, turn this and you might find a friend...'

Red Handed Ferlin

'Raina' screams Nils Ferlin  in disgusting irony
a kabaree, of theathre,
he prays 'God May',
but 'may' is malplace,
brings atonal note, into the art cafee
smiles heartlessly follows with gaze the adorable beauty
'God how beautiful you are!'
gasping worshipping his lusts
panthomin of poetical life writing his own mythology
to rise, strife...


I hate your cunningnessIt feels like every gift you giveHas hidden purposes, only for you to winAs you present perspectives of good fortuneA future free of troublesThe thankful, open upReveal and give much in returnAfterwards you try to buy his soulHis freedom of toungeAnd push him towards hellfireBurn!

Who says his word never breaks,But takes back all given promisesAnd keep on depressing acquaintancesWith hopes taken backIf over-sensitive earsPerceive a revealing attackRely upon persons no moreWhom with golden promises makes people workMusays staff 7:107William S. Burroughs’ work seems to bring forth good out of evil. By the aptness to confess your sins which makes you strive to create good and when people have received the good work, you confess your faults in hope to become accepted anyway - and then you hide your good actions - which looks <sign with hand only middle finger and ringfinger outstretched> - the opposite of the Shytanic symbol I know yet of none in modern times who could do such heinous actions and yet avoid to be stoned.I feel like Moses in front of Khidr standing with the law of the last prophet before doomsday the Sharia of prophet Muhammad (upon him, Allah’s godful peace) and yet be unable to judge this man. The common public of course are allowed to judge according to Sharia - I can not - but I would advise them carefulness.It looks like William S. Burroughs is on some kind of a mission to prove the consequences of if we knew what today’s world leaders are doing in their freemasonic lodges.And also prove that lovesickness is less severe than craving for money.This means that our brainwashed society where people sell their souls for a mobile telephone, symbolically speaking, letting themselves be controlled by psychopaths are less easily forgiven than S. Burroughs.At least his life was his own and ignorance is in Buddhism the biggest sin.(Muurderer, frei mauren Berl - inn)At the very same time William Blake makes a profound statement - or rather - the Devil in his proverb’s of Hell (William Blake, and author which everyone at one point have to read). William S. Burroughs created a heaven of what he stole from the abyss, which means his way of sins released blocks of imagination hidden from the sight of morally rigid characters.His aim was his authorship. What would he have done without a publisher? Whom would have listened; “Today I have molested a child”? Cracked skull quite soon I am sure.This was and is a serious flaw in his enlightenment, but really to me he seems like a Walli Allah similar to the two angels Harud and Marud whom were sent to test people by teaching them magic. They never taught anyone without first mentioning “This is only a test, so do not become disbelievers by putting your faith in it”.

Post Scriptum

A child should be brought up by the hand. A harsh upbringing is the best ‘cause perverse sex is stemming from denial of Allah’s wrath and thus sentimental objections to God’s punishment one becomes like caught in a piece of plutonium.

The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction - William Blake.The one entering into reading Burroughs, may Allah protect us from his sins, should ponder upon this line:Since the computer has X and not the indestructible as creator we get xexped.”

William S. Burroughs, Suura 7 vers 107

Muses staff, swallows all the black magic, and William then becomes a pensil writing to give back what they have stolen from the unseen (because the unseen has to be a whole) to give back to the audience. Even though he had lacked a publisher this was his mission and thus he would have been excused.  This illuminating serpent is a believer; if you read him without following the Sunnah you will be a Robert Christie (women strangler), if though you read him as a muslim, you have access to what makes life seem boring, and your apprehensiveness of the unseen realities becomes stunning!

His book, The Wild Boys, is exactly a prop to mask his real work, which at the time, was to reveal the stunning fact of The Hanging of Jerry Green and the new type of massproducable black magic, thanks to film materia as statue.

If you are in pain, speak, even though you repeat yourself (do not be a machokist, reluctant to repeat yourself)

The young man of Mary McCarthy, is the brown artist replica, whom does not allow himself the relisation that idolatry is forbidden. Thus he tries to kill with his love, as the bang utåt attack who equates sex orgasm with death, (the Khawarijs 51, first forced moral put up as fear of an idolpicture of Islam)

The young man does this as a replica of the silver wolf, his fucking has the goal to instigate jealousy and thus cancer in the other males, as his uncontrollable, makes him insane. The woman dies in maternity, and the father gets institutionalized, and the black magicians gets just another child to sacrifice.

The Brown Artist, keeps silent in these times, the idol for which the young man is sacrificed. They are first sentimental, but, as unluck strikes like a scorpion, the brown artist turns a deaf ear.

God is dead

He lives through us

He has never died

we live because we have died…

lam yallid wa lam yullad… sura 112 ayat 3… Mathnawi, Jalal ud Din Ruumi, Prophet asking Zayd ‘how are you today’answering ‘today I am a true believer’ death is the pangs and pains of birth… -It is what you dothat makes another heartpraise and loveyouwhat we pronounceeither makes us evilor we fly with heavens wingsthe thoughts you saidyour thoughts now in your headis your living life todayit is what you dothat makes another heartpraise and love you


In the beginning was zikhr Allah... cause zikhr Allah, is The Act…

***the call for prayer, fizzles out without meaning…a forced convention,makes the mind stray…when, even the name of God is too much to say…from now on let me follow my way…


All love stems from Allah… this is how love can have rules… if the notion would be the opposite… someone would say that Allah is the first born, wish to enslave the rest of creation…the very essence of love is such that you need no proof… therefore, never take a photo of someone you love, but solely for the reason of documenting crimes…


Best to say

'I'm skizophrenic' before - there comes a day - when the debt of normality

you'll have to pay...

there are few things - so ugly and foulas the cluthching at normality - which there takes some time to seemost unnormal people - dreams about becoming stars…be unnormal - before the annoouncement of the Heavenly callwhen the "normal" actors - the idiots will have to pay - for polyhtheistic pretence…to be put into Hell - on the judgement day...


The poet Izzy Young ’’Eternity in an hour”’Izzy Young – is very brave-Izzy Young – is afraid - (to lose power)Izzy Young is afraid –Of the power in a flower!Of the powerOf an eternal hour!Izzy Young - is afraidof the Highest in his heart.He’s no coward-But - when he sees a meek and mild flower-He’s lost-He can’t fetch it – with his intellectual power!


Mahanaash... - your magical love - surrounds me...- if Allah above - denounces my love for thee...- there is nothing to be done...- but - if He wishes me - to marry thee...- what a great opportunity - to fall in love.... - soon - snow - might be falling down - on the cold earth... - as - I walk the ground - I see me living together -. with a woman that loves me so much - money - means simply one of the abilities to keep in touch... -. but - if a woman loves me very much - she lets the love - plant the seed...- of marriage - she wishes - to go to Heaven - together with me... - if I could make you see - that money is one of the abilities...- but - there are more... - until - I get som other offer...- I creep down... to sleep on my friends floor...- I don't want to make any woman - to some kind of whore... - so please - understand that I'm poor... - let your feelings guide thee - towards something that could be much more...- when - women - talk about money - when - they crave for it... - I get sore... - I - simply - wish to unite - with your inner core...-