As the man said "I digress.." hardly know what I digress from, not much happening.. simply plod on.. on my "Weary way".. Go back, pick up the main thread of this story.. think I was still putting the final developments of Susan down. What happened after Susan ? does it really matter what happened after Susan ..?? hardly to any one other than myself and that interest is very thin. Only write for my own satisfaction, hardly for anyone else's. Not in that boat, thank God. Either like it or lump it . or "Please yourself…" as the delicious young ladies of Pattaya say, so softly, so gently, after stating their price of the main event.. "Love for money".." Few Farangs in Thailand who do not know that sharp phrase, its’ implication
Said to Cynthia the other night " You know, would make a good film. .this book… Check the Net for some film agents. .producers, have a look round.. never know your luck…” Okay “..she drifted off to the box, came back a couple of hours later .. "Guess what ??" "what??"
"There are 60,000,000 pages of film makers and associated items" .
Could not really comprehend this.. Repeated her statement to myself..60.000.000 pages ..how many items on each page???! What chance does anyone have ??? So much flotsam floating about in space.
My father brought home a crystal set.. we all had to be incredibly quiet and take it in turns to listen to the few discernible crackling words emitted… I,… five years old.
Obviously I am well past my "sell by" date
The idea of a book is out, for the one simple reason that people no longer have the ability to read.. not more than five words.. Any advertising agency will confirm this.. . There is too much happening up front.. before the eyes .the “Unreal Reality “… the “Square box”….mostly played down to the level of six year olds. Very little effort required … no thought whatsoever…. Why read??
Every Government on this Planet is strongly aware of the fact that “if” people are educated and can read.. can think …. they may possibly get all manner of unwelcome ideas.
The words. Democracy , individuality, justice, "Education.." Tricks of the trade, simply words.. in so far as any government is concerned..
They prefer/insist/demand "Political correctness " insidiously injected via the media.. " CNN" .." Euro News " ..twenty four hours every day.
The bottom line of the most powerful Governments being
"Justice is the will of the stronger'
Most especially, this applies to the United States of America
Only have to look at America and "NATO" Bombing defenseless Yugoslavia, for no other reason than a diversion, from amongst other things, a get out for Clinton over the Lewinsky affair.
The Imposed "Sanctions" by the American Corporation on Iraq .. Never mind the "Kurds " and "weapons of destruction…" What about the price of oil !?? Iraq sitting on more than anyone else on this Planet.
Politics is a dirty business.
……….Like to make gifts of copies ..can be used double edged ….take a poke, or, as with Aura .. Book Four.. Wound her and the German up very tight, very tight indeed .
Aura…Book ten will be better………..
Revenge is sweet …. A certain satisfaction…
Se afișează postările cu eticheta politics. Afișați toate postările
Se afișează postările cu eticheta politics. Afișați toate postările
England having an identity crisis
Book two, short, sharp essay.. no more, the preamble, so strong, regarding my conviction, consideration of England, the English, having an identity crisis.... felt determined to get that down for whatever reason, not so long ago ..only about a year. Now, hardly care, said what had to be said, wanted to say ..did not need any female face for that particular piece.
Out of it , England, Europe, simply become too much, too many rules, regulations, too many constraints, too much extortion of the individual, too many cameras watching too many people.
Those who actually control the country.. responsible for manipulating the proliferating masses down the road of mirages.. those faces are afraid.. quite evidently afraid, afraid their wealth, their power, accrued rigorously over centuries, will be snatched from them, their myriad armies of so heavily armed, uniformed robots, their cameras, constantly alert, constantly looking out.. to instantly apprehend, crush, another Lenin ..or more distinctly, another Hitler.
The politically correct, obedient people of the United Kingdom “subjects” inexorably watch football, watch Coronation street, mesmerized. World Without End.. Amen.
As said in book two, none of this tension, fear, if you like, pervade the atmosphere of Romania.. Bucuresti is rather tension free. Children play in the streets unmolested, old ladies are able to walk their dogs any time, day or night, not forced to be imprisoned in their own homes locked, barred and bolted. Young women do not have to be escorted everywhere.
Could hardly imagine the English, those few elite who “rule” letting that situation continue if they were in control here.. No.. they would soon import some tension, build some mosques.. build some temples in Piata Victoria and Unirii… soon tighten the situation up, London, Neasden, having the largest temple in Europe.. possibly more mosques than Islam, the mosque in Park Road, Regents Park, being one of the most opulent in the World. In Contrast, the “Church of England “ at the other end of the market, fortunate in managing to dispose of most of their real estate, it converts into excellent flats, “Christianity” in deep decline.
The recent fiasco of the war next door, Americans/British dropping bombs on Yugoslavia, maybe simply a demonstration of power, what will happen to others if they do not conform to Big Brother, to NATO, a stern warning of the have's, to the have not's, to behave themselves.. to be “Politically Correct” to force the self inflicted tensions, fears and greed of the West on others in the name of “Democracy” I could spell it perhaps differently.
Who are the inhabitants of the Pentagon and the heavily fortified shelters of subterranean Whitehall? these faceless creators of the greatest one sided European war of intervention I have ever lived through. All about ?? no one apparently knows, care even less.
Heard said “Little more than a deflection on Mr. Clinton”s part of the Lewinsky affair”.. not quite “Helen of Troy”, not up to such a standard, culture spelt with a K, how else?
The Americans lost two men, so I believe and they through a accident. During 39..45. the Russians alone lost twenty two million. Perhaps, as I saw on one placard “Stop playing God..” maybe it is that.
The only people who have rubbed their hands at the oppression here by the West are those making money from the sad fiasco, a crude, “Carrot and stick for the donkey” situation. The perception of West being the Balkans are donkeys, ripe for “development” a little persuasion .. a B57, perhaps.
The French already having “bought” oil concessions here and taken back “Dacia Cars” eyes on the practically slave labour market, as with the Greeks, members of “The European Community” NATO and the oldest “Democracy”. Some of these gentlemen have wasted no time in opening up shop here, averse to exploitation naturally, in the “Community” , not above it in Romania.
One enterprising, Noble Greek in particular, has opened a sausage factory in Otopeni, The Romanian ladies locked in, twelve hours a day, six days a week for $60 a month, bring your own food…works out .. 20 cents a hour. (July. 99)
Obviously, the Romanian people, struggling from beneath the clutches of one regime, have in all innocence, fallen under another, believing the encouraging words, promises and beatific, gentle smiles of Madeline Albright, Robin Cook and a few other faces of the West… all bleating out in unison ..
“Thank you for your wonderful assistance in our struggle with the despot of Belgrade, but few of you peasants will get a visa for the West “ italics are mine.
The Russians and the Germans both stripped and took everything they could carry from Romania, the only difference being the Germans paid for the bread.
Curious, the cost of bombing the Chinese embassy ? How much to reconstruct Yugoslavia.. bridges over the Danube? …stop the sequence of centuries.. Christians and Muslims eating each other.
In View of the Kosovo debacle, Hungary, now a member of the much trumpeted, nevertheless, crooked European Community, it would be reasonable to conclude Romania will be bombed by NATO in the name of democracy, unless she willingly gives up land the Hungarians covet.
***********************************************************************
Did you know ? the “Serbs” i.e. the now discredited people of Yugoslavia, made rubber blow up tanks and put down white, canvass highways, which the young, highly trained, highly motivated, dedicated pilots of 21st century NATO warplanes, proceeded to bomb, at great expense, with great accuracy and deadly seriousness.
***********************************************************************
It should be perhaps pointed out, now the smoke has cleared.. Mr Milosevich attempted to stop the proliferation of Muslims, breeding to the extent of not only destabilizing Kosovo, but the Balkans.. He is too late.
The Balkans have been the tinder box on many occasions, my exaggerated scenario being.. the Muslims and the West fight it out. Russia, who has slept so far apparently, (then the German’s fell for that one) waits the opportune moment and strikes whoever remains standing.
Thirty years previous, Mr Enoch Powell voiced the idea parallel to Mr Milosevich when England had been thrown open to all who wished to go there, no Visa’s, no questions . At the time the indigenous working population had control of their own destiny, they were in a strong position to negotiate a high living standard, almost independent… much to the extreme annoyance, displeasure and anxiety of those in control of Capital who decided to break this powerful labour market by throwing the country open to mass immigration, smashing the private labour sector, Mrs. Thatcher, the culmination of this process, dealing the final, fatal blow by destroying all “State Industries” ( industries which belong to the people ) last bastions of organized labour.
First the striking miners obliterated with troops, violence and humiliation. Then ! with slight sleight of hand and a poker face, giving away to her friends and acquaintances, the coal mines, transport, railways, gas, electricity and anything else she could think of, effectively ending, the era of Trade Unions and organized labour, attempting to conceal her remarkable actions with the respectable, nevertheless quite deceptive word “privatization”. Mrs. Thatcher, now in full swing, unstoppable, irrepressible, became the founder of Global Labour Exploitation and in a rare, quiet moment, over a bottle of scotch, gave nodding assent to the Channel Tunnel. A most remarkable, ruthless woman.
Her final blow to those unfortunate enough to be poor, to be diseducated was the selling off of Council Housing, a faint chance of a home, a legacy from more enlightened days.. selling to anyone who wanted to buy, heavily discounted to sitting tenants. Those clever enough capitalized. Thank her for quite inadvertently getting Peter off the hook, would most certainly not be sitting here saying my piece without that legislation. No, not going back, don’t get excited.. a Romanian Citizen, thank God. Quite possibly be dead now, London a very dangerous place for old people, young, come to that. Council House sales, most controversial, a strange condescension to the poor, the only substantial piece of the cake they ever had or ever will eat. End result is no chance of a secure home, only the .. “select”. In the case of Hounslow, which holds Heathrow airport, any such person who gets off a plane without anywhere to live, must be given a house “immediately” without regard to the homeless indigenous population, a reward from the revolting rich, who conspired to divide England, punish the proletariat, save themselves, a conspiracy indeed…
It has been seen.. Indian wandering the streets, pots and pans, old blankets, having disembarked from a Jumbo with two wives and seven kids.. all wrapped up in traditional Sari gear, shouting out, ..indeed.. demanding.. his right..!!
“Give us our house and money !!”
The only English words he knew…
Out of it , England, Europe, simply become too much, too many rules, regulations, too many constraints, too much extortion of the individual, too many cameras watching too many people.
Those who actually control the country.. responsible for manipulating the proliferating masses down the road of mirages.. those faces are afraid.. quite evidently afraid, afraid their wealth, their power, accrued rigorously over centuries, will be snatched from them, their myriad armies of so heavily armed, uniformed robots, their cameras, constantly alert, constantly looking out.. to instantly apprehend, crush, another Lenin ..or more distinctly, another Hitler.
The politically correct, obedient people of the United Kingdom “subjects” inexorably watch football, watch Coronation street, mesmerized. World Without End.. Amen.
As said in book two, none of this tension, fear, if you like, pervade the atmosphere of Romania.. Bucuresti is rather tension free. Children play in the streets unmolested, old ladies are able to walk their dogs any time, day or night, not forced to be imprisoned in their own homes locked, barred and bolted. Young women do not have to be escorted everywhere.
Could hardly imagine the English, those few elite who “rule” letting that situation continue if they were in control here.. No.. they would soon import some tension, build some mosques.. build some temples in Piata Victoria and Unirii… soon tighten the situation up, London, Neasden, having the largest temple in Europe.. possibly more mosques than Islam, the mosque in Park Road, Regents Park, being one of the most opulent in the World. In Contrast, the “Church of England “ at the other end of the market, fortunate in managing to dispose of most of their real estate, it converts into excellent flats, “Christianity” in deep decline.
The recent fiasco of the war next door, Americans/British dropping bombs on Yugoslavia, maybe simply a demonstration of power, what will happen to others if they do not conform to Big Brother, to NATO, a stern warning of the have's, to the have not's, to behave themselves.. to be “Politically Correct” to force the self inflicted tensions, fears and greed of the West on others in the name of “Democracy” I could spell it perhaps differently.
Who are the inhabitants of the Pentagon and the heavily fortified shelters of subterranean Whitehall? these faceless creators of the greatest one sided European war of intervention I have ever lived through. All about ?? no one apparently knows, care even less.
Heard said “Little more than a deflection on Mr. Clinton”s part of the Lewinsky affair”.. not quite “Helen of Troy”, not up to such a standard, culture spelt with a K, how else?
The Americans lost two men, so I believe and they through a accident. During 39..45. the Russians alone lost twenty two million. Perhaps, as I saw on one placard “Stop playing God..” maybe it is that.
The only people who have rubbed their hands at the oppression here by the West are those making money from the sad fiasco, a crude, “Carrot and stick for the donkey” situation. The perception of West being the Balkans are donkeys, ripe for “development” a little persuasion .. a B57, perhaps.
The French already having “bought” oil concessions here and taken back “Dacia Cars” eyes on the practically slave labour market, as with the Greeks, members of “The European Community” NATO and the oldest “Democracy”. Some of these gentlemen have wasted no time in opening up shop here, averse to exploitation naturally, in the “Community” , not above it in Romania.
One enterprising, Noble Greek in particular, has opened a sausage factory in Otopeni, The Romanian ladies locked in, twelve hours a day, six days a week for $60 a month, bring your own food…works out .. 20 cents a hour. (July. 99)
Obviously, the Romanian people, struggling from beneath the clutches of one regime, have in all innocence, fallen under another, believing the encouraging words, promises and beatific, gentle smiles of Madeline Albright, Robin Cook and a few other faces of the West… all bleating out in unison ..
“Thank you for your wonderful assistance in our struggle with the despot of Belgrade, but few of you peasants will get a visa for the West “ italics are mine.
The Russians and the Germans both stripped and took everything they could carry from Romania, the only difference being the Germans paid for the bread.
Curious, the cost of bombing the Chinese embassy ? How much to reconstruct Yugoslavia.. bridges over the Danube? …stop the sequence of centuries.. Christians and Muslims eating each other.
In View of the Kosovo debacle, Hungary, now a member of the much trumpeted, nevertheless, crooked European Community, it would be reasonable to conclude Romania will be bombed by NATO in the name of democracy, unless she willingly gives up land the Hungarians covet.
***********************************************************************
Did you know ? the “Serbs” i.e. the now discredited people of Yugoslavia, made rubber blow up tanks and put down white, canvass highways, which the young, highly trained, highly motivated, dedicated pilots of 21st century NATO warplanes, proceeded to bomb, at great expense, with great accuracy and deadly seriousness.
***********************************************************************
It should be perhaps pointed out, now the smoke has cleared.. Mr Milosevich attempted to stop the proliferation of Muslims, breeding to the extent of not only destabilizing Kosovo, but the Balkans.. He is too late.
The Balkans have been the tinder box on many occasions, my exaggerated scenario being.. the Muslims and the West fight it out. Russia, who has slept so far apparently, (then the German’s fell for that one) waits the opportune moment and strikes whoever remains standing.
Thirty years previous, Mr Enoch Powell voiced the idea parallel to Mr Milosevich when England had been thrown open to all who wished to go there, no Visa’s, no questions . At the time the indigenous working population had control of their own destiny, they were in a strong position to negotiate a high living standard, almost independent… much to the extreme annoyance, displeasure and anxiety of those in control of Capital who decided to break this powerful labour market by throwing the country open to mass immigration, smashing the private labour sector, Mrs. Thatcher, the culmination of this process, dealing the final, fatal blow by destroying all “State Industries” ( industries which belong to the people ) last bastions of organized labour.
First the striking miners obliterated with troops, violence and humiliation. Then ! with slight sleight of hand and a poker face, giving away to her friends and acquaintances, the coal mines, transport, railways, gas, electricity and anything else she could think of, effectively ending, the era of Trade Unions and organized labour, attempting to conceal her remarkable actions with the respectable, nevertheless quite deceptive word “privatization”. Mrs. Thatcher, now in full swing, unstoppable, irrepressible, became the founder of Global Labour Exploitation and in a rare, quiet moment, over a bottle of scotch, gave nodding assent to the Channel Tunnel. A most remarkable, ruthless woman.
Her final blow to those unfortunate enough to be poor, to be diseducated was the selling off of Council Housing, a faint chance of a home, a legacy from more enlightened days.. selling to anyone who wanted to buy, heavily discounted to sitting tenants. Those clever enough capitalized. Thank her for quite inadvertently getting Peter off the hook, would most certainly not be sitting here saying my piece without that legislation. No, not going back, don’t get excited.. a Romanian Citizen, thank God. Quite possibly be dead now, London a very dangerous place for old people, young, come to that. Council House sales, most controversial, a strange condescension to the poor, the only substantial piece of the cake they ever had or ever will eat. End result is no chance of a secure home, only the .. “select”. In the case of Hounslow, which holds Heathrow airport, any such person who gets off a plane without anywhere to live, must be given a house “immediately” without regard to the homeless indigenous population, a reward from the revolting rich, who conspired to divide England, punish the proletariat, save themselves, a conspiracy indeed…
It has been seen.. Indian wandering the streets, pots and pans, old blankets, having disembarked from a Jumbo with two wives and seven kids.. all wrapped up in traditional Sari gear, shouting out, ..indeed.. demanding.. his right..!!
“Give us our house and money !!”
The only English words he knew…
A self induced, cultural suicide, almost complete.
Sunday 19th October, 1998. Bucuresti.
Certainly I have been back, back to England, had to go, to see if my thoughts were balanced, to see if I was simply over the top, conclusions mostly in my head ..The first day, went down the escalator at Kings Cross underground, at the bottom, a black man, half naked, dreadlocks, bare foot, beating bongo drums and doing some wild dance.. begging.. Jamaican fashion.. As during the war people ignored this subterranean apparition, as the discomforts, tribulations of war.. Asked myself why people are so tolerant ? maybe it is not tolerance, maybe they are simply too tired of fighting the inevitable .
Hoped I could soften my comments, soften them without removing the reality, the shock . The first few days I tried, then forced to revert to my previous position.
The general consensus of the white English in the inner city areas.. all inner city areas.. is that they have to get out, a idea they have gradually become used to, the inevitability of it all. One has no answer as to why the English are so willing to lie down, a politically correct paralysis, be walked over by these hordes of people from other lands, at the insistence of successive governments, especially by Mr. Straw, the now Home Secretary, to such a degree as to force Sir Paul Condon, the chief of the metropolitan police to publicly humiliate himself over his inability to catch the people who killed a black, the controlled press overwhelming saying it could only have been “white thugs”, as if blacks were all angels. Naturally the blacks rising up in their multitudes, still pushing their luck, want, indeed demand, Paul Condon resign, step down, be replaced. Not any imagination required to know what with.
It is the way they have always operated, the imperceptible takeover of the country, inch by insidious inch. Mr Straw, would like to accommodate them, but even he would not play his hand so openly, step so close to the brink..
Prince Charles, caught in a cleft stick, obviously, not quite so silly, so weak, as some people try to make out, may find it prudent, expedient, politic, no doubt easier, to marry a Indian Princess, Camilla quietly put to one side, as his forebear, H8 would have done without the slightest hesitation if it suited his purpose. People accept the now situation, no longer mentioning the fact of having crouched in cold concrete tombs of air raid shelters, quietly waiting the approach, the clamor, the horror, the din of death This ‘home front’ this tenacity, keeping the Germans out, simply ..simply to let the world’s devious disenchanted slip in through the back. Nobody willing to raise this issue any more, on pain of imprisonment, free speech quietly defunct, anyway they are tired of raising it. No one since Enoch Powel, has dared? deigned raise his voice, there is no voice, only a enforced silence now in this wilderness. The weak token defiance, the standard, common defence phrase, when push becomes shove, when confronted by the arrogance.. by the arrogant black levers of power is “If I had a black face “ ..no more, no more allowed in politically correct England. No, it is accepted the fate .. the inevitability, the transition, as death was accepted .
By the year 2020 this country will be unrecognisable ..difficult to find the so trumpeted ‘English way of life’.. “the stiff upper lip”. London, Luton, Nottingham, Leicester Birmingham, all major conurbations, annexed fully by Islam.
All civilizations have come to a end being swamped by barbarism in one form in or another, why should England be so different ? A highly developed, sophisticated society of one thousand years, weakened from within by complacency, apathy, by a indifference towards dignity, a willingness to accept the lowest common denominator, words I knew as a child, pride honor, bravery, almost now a subject for disparagement. Anyone brave enough to defend himself in this country is immediately branded aggressive, incongruously, could find himself in prison.
A self induced, cultural suicide, almost complete. England long lost its power, now its glory fast fading, a natural rhythm. the sink into obscurity, into the past tense, into history, without doubt to rise again , a different breed, a different concept.
To myself, both sad and academic. Sad, having lived long enough to know what England was like, Certainly we were and still are flagrantly oppressed by the rich, by those in power ..the difference being, then we had a cohesion, something to hang on to, a order.. street doors left open… a way of life, now being rapidly eroded, reaching the stage where in certain parts of London and other inner city centers ..to fly the Union Jack is to ask for serious trouble. British Airways has bowed to this, removing the flag from its aircraft for a more ’multicultural symbol of England’…. if you do not mind.
Dieu et mon droit ..” I’ m in the dinghy. pull away jack.”
Think this applies to rather a great number of people. …Out, being the In word…. If the blacks want England , let them have it. I am not upset, not now, not anymore, having found another way. The country has never given me anything other than the opportunity to work from the age of thirteen to sixty nine.. suppose I should be grateful to the establishment for allowing me this honour. Work and very little else.
Never any consideration, kindness shown, other than those first few weeks of the War as a child.. a glorious September in Reading. Have been given more help, more consideration during the comparatively short time lived in Romania than all my years put together.
This insidious invasion of slithering, black, creeping feet.. there has never been any defence against that offered, ………..not one shot fired.
Certainly, a great deal of unrest below decks, the mutterings of discontent, the whispers.. one eye on the eye of the ever watchful cameras .
George Orwell only fourteen years out in his deliberations.. the Police State here, now.
Certainly if I were a young man with a young family, I would send my children to a Muslim school to make it easier for them when the transition does come.
Nero fiddled while Rome burnt.. he had his reasons.
The masses inexorably, watch football, watch Coronation Street, watch, mesmerized, while this rock, this Realm, this earth, this Eden, this Majesty, this seat of Mars, this green and pleasant land, this England, falls, topples, slides, beneath the excrement of the World’s unwanted.
Certainly I have been back, back to England, had to go, to see if my thoughts were balanced, to see if I was simply over the top, conclusions mostly in my head ..The first day, went down the escalator at Kings Cross underground, at the bottom, a black man, half naked, dreadlocks, bare foot, beating bongo drums and doing some wild dance.. begging.. Jamaican fashion.. As during the war people ignored this subterranean apparition, as the discomforts, tribulations of war.. Asked myself why people are so tolerant ? maybe it is not tolerance, maybe they are simply too tired of fighting the inevitable .
Hoped I could soften my comments, soften them without removing the reality, the shock . The first few days I tried, then forced to revert to my previous position.
The general consensus of the white English in the inner city areas.. all inner city areas.. is that they have to get out, a idea they have gradually become used to, the inevitability of it all. One has no answer as to why the English are so willing to lie down, a politically correct paralysis, be walked over by these hordes of people from other lands, at the insistence of successive governments, especially by Mr. Straw, the now Home Secretary, to such a degree as to force Sir Paul Condon, the chief of the metropolitan police to publicly humiliate himself over his inability to catch the people who killed a black, the controlled press overwhelming saying it could only have been “white thugs”, as if blacks were all angels. Naturally the blacks rising up in their multitudes, still pushing their luck, want, indeed demand, Paul Condon resign, step down, be replaced. Not any imagination required to know what with.
It is the way they have always operated, the imperceptible takeover of the country, inch by insidious inch. Mr Straw, would like to accommodate them, but even he would not play his hand so openly, step so close to the brink..
Prince Charles, caught in a cleft stick, obviously, not quite so silly, so weak, as some people try to make out, may find it prudent, expedient, politic, no doubt easier, to marry a Indian Princess, Camilla quietly put to one side, as his forebear, H8 would have done without the slightest hesitation if it suited his purpose. People accept the now situation, no longer mentioning the fact of having crouched in cold concrete tombs of air raid shelters, quietly waiting the approach, the clamor, the horror, the din of death This ‘home front’ this tenacity, keeping the Germans out, simply ..simply to let the world’s devious disenchanted slip in through the back. Nobody willing to raise this issue any more, on pain of imprisonment, free speech quietly defunct, anyway they are tired of raising it. No one since Enoch Powel, has dared? deigned raise his voice, there is no voice, only a enforced silence now in this wilderness. The weak token defiance, the standard, common defence phrase, when push becomes shove, when confronted by the arrogance.. by the arrogant black levers of power is “If I had a black face “ ..no more, no more allowed in politically correct England. No, it is accepted the fate .. the inevitability, the transition, as death was accepted .
By the year 2020 this country will be unrecognisable ..difficult to find the so trumpeted ‘English way of life’.. “the stiff upper lip”. London, Luton, Nottingham, Leicester Birmingham, all major conurbations, annexed fully by Islam.
All civilizations have come to a end being swamped by barbarism in one form in or another, why should England be so different ? A highly developed, sophisticated society of one thousand years, weakened from within by complacency, apathy, by a indifference towards dignity, a willingness to accept the lowest common denominator, words I knew as a child, pride honor, bravery, almost now a subject for disparagement. Anyone brave enough to defend himself in this country is immediately branded aggressive, incongruously, could find himself in prison.
A self induced, cultural suicide, almost complete. England long lost its power, now its glory fast fading, a natural rhythm. the sink into obscurity, into the past tense, into history, without doubt to rise again , a different breed, a different concept.
To myself, both sad and academic. Sad, having lived long enough to know what England was like, Certainly we were and still are flagrantly oppressed by the rich, by those in power ..the difference being, then we had a cohesion, something to hang on to, a order.. street doors left open… a way of life, now being rapidly eroded, reaching the stage where in certain parts of London and other inner city centers ..to fly the Union Jack is to ask for serious trouble. British Airways has bowed to this, removing the flag from its aircraft for a more ’multicultural symbol of England’…. if you do not mind.
Dieu et mon droit ..” I’ m in the dinghy. pull away jack.”
Think this applies to rather a great number of people. …Out, being the In word…. If the blacks want England , let them have it. I am not upset, not now, not anymore, having found another way. The country has never given me anything other than the opportunity to work from the age of thirteen to sixty nine.. suppose I should be grateful to the establishment for allowing me this honour. Work and very little else.
Never any consideration, kindness shown, other than those first few weeks of the War as a child.. a glorious September in Reading. Have been given more help, more consideration during the comparatively short time lived in Romania than all my years put together.
This insidious invasion of slithering, black, creeping feet.. there has never been any defence against that offered, ………..not one shot fired.
Certainly, a great deal of unrest below decks, the mutterings of discontent, the whispers.. one eye on the eye of the ever watchful cameras .
George Orwell only fourteen years out in his deliberations.. the Police State here, now.
Certainly if I were a young man with a young family, I would send my children to a Muslim school to make it easier for them when the transition does come.
Nero fiddled while Rome burnt.. he had his reasons.
The masses inexorably, watch football, watch Coronation Street, watch, mesmerized, while this rock, this Realm, this earth, this Eden, this Majesty, this seat of Mars, this green and pleasant land, this England, falls, topples, slides, beneath the excrement of the World’s unwanted.
"Cheap labour"
At the time of writing there are 17,000,000 workless people in Europe.
The post office in Brook Rd; Hackney, has eight cubicles, all serviced by Asian ladies. Each day they constantly pay out to long lines of the Demanding World’s Disenchanted who have crowded onto these shores in hope and anticipation.
I had once the audacity, the temerity, to attempt to calculate the amount paid out by H.M Government each week to these people, the noughts fell off the end.
It would be reasonable to say there are at least thirty such other offices in this, the poorest borough, through sheer weight of numbers, in Europe.
The hard economic philosophy of a " pool of unemployment" and "cheap labour" has not come cheap.. in any respect.. however, subtracted from this incredible cost, must be the quite obvious control and advantage by Business and Government over those who have to endure to survive. Or, as Daniella quickly observed, " Simply, perhaps, another punishment for the 'proletariat', for whatever reason, whatever whim "…
The chattering class, capricious, avaricious, uncaring, unthinking, immune to those whose backs they ride, so remorselessly, so heavily upon.
The three wealthiest people in the World hold the equivalent of the gross national income of the 48 poorest, deprived countries of the World
'EuroNews" 9.9.98.
A Romanian peasant lady draws 700 lei a Month pension
(A cup of coffee in Mcdonalds is 7000 lei)
PRO. TV. 1999-03-04
The post office in Brook Rd; Hackney, has eight cubicles, all serviced by Asian ladies. Each day they constantly pay out to long lines of the Demanding World’s Disenchanted who have crowded onto these shores in hope and anticipation.
I had once the audacity, the temerity, to attempt to calculate the amount paid out by H.M Government each week to these people, the noughts fell off the end.
It would be reasonable to say there are at least thirty such other offices in this, the poorest borough, through sheer weight of numbers, in Europe.
The hard economic philosophy of a " pool of unemployment" and "cheap labour" has not come cheap.. in any respect.. however, subtracted from this incredible cost, must be the quite obvious control and advantage by Business and Government over those who have to endure to survive. Or, as Daniella quickly observed, " Simply, perhaps, another punishment for the 'proletariat', for whatever reason, whatever whim "…
The chattering class, capricious, avaricious, uncaring, unthinking, immune to those whose backs they ride, so remorselessly, so heavily upon.
The three wealthiest people in the World hold the equivalent of the gross national income of the 48 poorest, deprived countries of the World
'EuroNews" 9.9.98.
A Romanian peasant lady draws 700 lei a Month pension
(A cup of coffee in Mcdonalds is 7000 lei)
PRO. TV. 1999-03-04
Friday, 4th; September. 1998. 9.a.m
Bucuresti
Athenaeum.
Friday, 4th; September. 1998. 9.a.m.
Wet…cold.
It has been a very long time ..I waiting to sit down here and start the second book to something which has become, perhaps, a saga in my existence, determined this will not take me another twenty five years, quite obviously time will not permit this. Time, “the” factor .. a gamble, a calculated gamble on how much time I actually do have remaining, this overriding my quite frequent wish it would end immediately… abruptly.
There have been some interesting moments which I considered appropriate for leaving this Planet, besides those when the going became tough.
To this moment, no publisher has rushed forward throwing hard currency at me for the rights . Not exactly a commercial proposition, no “ Love and Romance “ …the one exception.. no living “Happily ever After”. Politics creeping slowly onto the pages, initially my being unaware of this, the book deciding to write itself after about the first ten years, people looking at me as if a candidate for the funny farm when mentioning this, words coming out of my head which I know not the meaning of, having to look them up in the dictionary.. there has also been a touch of disbelief of content for the people who read it.
Without exception, other than for my sister and brother in law, who only managed to struggle through the first couple of pages.. and they not exactly hard, those who pick it up do not put it down.. always reminding me of people downing a pint.
Athenaeum.
Friday, 4th; September. 1998. 9.a.m.
Wet…cold.
It has been a very long time ..I waiting to sit down here and start the second book to something which has become, perhaps, a saga in my existence, determined this will not take me another twenty five years, quite obviously time will not permit this. Time, “the” factor .. a gamble, a calculated gamble on how much time I actually do have remaining, this overriding my quite frequent wish it would end immediately… abruptly.
There have been some interesting moments which I considered appropriate for leaving this Planet, besides those when the going became tough.
To this moment, no publisher has rushed forward throwing hard currency at me for the rights . Not exactly a commercial proposition, no “ Love and Romance “ …the one exception.. no living “Happily ever After”. Politics creeping slowly onto the pages, initially my being unaware of this, the book deciding to write itself after about the first ten years, people looking at me as if a candidate for the funny farm when mentioning this, words coming out of my head which I know not the meaning of, having to look them up in the dictionary.. there has also been a touch of disbelief of content for the people who read it.
Without exception, other than for my sister and brother in law, who only managed to struggle through the first couple of pages.. and they not exactly hard, those who pick it up do not put it down.. always reminding me of people downing a pint.
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