MERCENARY ISLAMS

OR SIMPLY ‘GOING NATIVE’?

By their sins? You know—integrating with the locals. Blending in. Assimilating, becoming good citizens and all that stuff? (Sin don’t get no sinnier than that~!)

Some commentators went as far as to accuse the authors of the poll, as well as the party they support, of harboring racist views and disregarding the contribution of the Muslim workers to the society. 

to read from source: CLICK HERE

Ye gods! By the Prophet’s very (peace be upon him)(and his dog) beard, I swear they’ll be wolfing roast pork and bacon sandwiches next~!

But wait, there’s more miracles in line—

“Many Muslims have a problem with the word ‘Christmas’ and it is debated whether the Christmas markets should be renamed to winter markets… And as far as Christmas money is concerned suddenly no one Muslim has a problem with the word ‘Christmas,’ he argued.

I HAVE A WEE PROBLEM

too. I want to be me, to hold my own hard-earned beliefs and prejudices. I like having non-mainstream (okay, dammit … non PC) views. Frankly I don’t give a stuff for PC—and it’s about time everyone thunk thought for themselves rather that accepting the mindless pap their betters keep force-feeding them. pc

I don’t mind in the least being labelled a ‘racist’.

I also like women, so I’m a sexist.

All humans should be equal in the eyes of The Law, so I’m a Male Chauvinist sexist atheistic heathen pork swilling rum soaked dog loving pig (not a Muslim, you see …)

For God’s sake (hey, and Mrs God’s too) People:please get your blasted self-respect together* and go spit in the eyes of anyone falsely labelling you.

THIS IS WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT—  spins-down.gif(click it, to go there)


Eeek~!.png

—and I see no reason why Muslims should be denied religious freedom (other than their anti-social behaviour based on their foul and filthy vicious credos).cerberus-2

Even offering them a Christian bonus is force, trust me.

Ringing Christmas bells within earshot of a Muslim is acoustic aggression (and intimidation); all clappers to be removed forthwith …

Xmas lights, garlands, decorations in the streets—all are aggressions.

… we really don’t want to offend anyone, do we?

screen-shot-2016-10-04-at-00-15-05

* If you have any left …

FAIRY TALE

quite a long post this time, but I hope you won’t be disappointed.Screen Shot 2016-11-29 at 20.14.49.png


BACK GROUND

My email server went down but I thought it was something I’d done. By the time I’d finished trying to fix things everything was now a real mess; and in the course of tidying up a few hundred thousand loose ends I happened across two stories I wrote a couple of years back in another time and place.

Here’s the first, I hope you like it—

 

Little Olivia and the Vikings

‘Daddy!’

‘Yes, little Olivia?’

‘Please tell me a story! You owe me a story, I’ve been good for a whole week.’

‘Then climb upon my knee, bonny child, and I’ll tell you a tale of the fish of the sea—’

‘Can them fish, Pops! I want economics, and thrilling stuff like current affairs and world events—’

‘—or, if you like a tale of the Viking hordes—’

‘Yay! Oodles of rape and pillage, bloody violence, an ‘X’ certificate?’Screen Shot 2016-11-29 at 20.45.36.png

‘Hmmm … too much television and sugary drinks, I might have to censo—’

‘No, Daddy! Newspapers and Time magazine; and the other kids at school. You can learn a lot in the playground—’

‘Okay. But we’ll have history, a moral, current affairs, politics, lust, debauchery … actually just social commentary on human values but with an ancient nautical theme. Comfy?

‘Let ‘er rip, Daddy! Please.’

‘About a thousand years ago when the world was much warmer than it is now—’

‘Has Al Gore approved this?’

‘Hush child. All will be revealed in the fullness of time.’

‘Popcorn, Pop?’

‘When we get to the intermission, not before. I’ll make coffee, you pop the corn. Now, once upon a warmer time the Scandinavian races we now know as Vikings created an absolute masterpiece of a vessel they called a Dragon Ship’.’

Screen Shot 2016-11-29 at 20.44.56.png‘Oooooh …’

“It was made with overlapping planks and because of the lack of a solid internal framing it was very light and flexed to the mocean of the otion—’

‘Daddy, I heard that! You’re setting me a bad example.’

‘—and in them the Vikings spread out far and wide, taking with them peace, trade, goodwill, freedom, and democracy everywhere they went—’

‘Setting the precedent, Daddy?’

‘You’ve got it, Toots … they even crossed the Atlantic as far as mainland America.’

‘Wow …’

‘They settled Greenland too, you know—’

‘Oh come on, Daddy! Greenland is all ice and snow and melting glaciers and stuff! Nobody could ever live there, especially without central heating and polyester jackets over polypro thermals—’

‘Settle down, Pest. Don’t just take my word for it, go look it up. Much warmer then! But this is an allegorical story—’

‘Allegorical, Daddy?’

‘Means concealed message.’

‘Oh. You didn’t say I’d have to think, Daddy, I just want to be entertained.You know, mindless pap sort of story. And no commercials.’

‘So like all my stories you can take it entirely on face value and just enjoy. Anyway, this expedition’s leader was a Viking called Knut. A swarthy chap, jovial, real optimist, nothing ever fazed him. If anything got in his way he’d just hack it aside with his trusty sword or chop it away with his battle-axe called Peacebringer.’

‘I like him, Daddy.’

‘Good girl. And Knut had advisers, too. The one he listened to most — actually, the power behind the throne, as it were — was a bald-headed man with a beard called Baen the Cranky. Baen kept the accounts and handled finances, which freed Knut from having to think beyond handling the ship and the next conquest.’

‘Sounds like a good team, Daddy. How many in the crew?’

‘This ship had woollen sails and single shielded bank of twenty-two oars on each side. It would go like the wind with the wind and in adverse conditions the slaves would row—’

‘I thought Vikings were free men, Daddy?’

‘No, Child. They were all slaves, they just didn’t know it. What they didn’t know didn’t hurt them and they worked all the harder for it … and look at the savings in whips.’

‘So that’s forty-six souls on board, Daddy?’

‘Clever girl! But wait, there’s more … two banks of twenty-two making forty-four, plus a couple of cooks who also helped with the accounts, one seer who did the navigating ‘cos he had the lodestone and the quartz, and a minstrel who also helped keep the ship clean.’

‘Counting Knut and Baen, that’s fifty, Daddy.’

‘Well done, child.’

‘So where does Al come in? You only mentioned climate briefly and even then you got it wrong.’

‘Wrong?’

‘You said it was warmer back then but it couldn’t have been—’

‘Little Olivia, please let your Daddy finish! So they set sail to the west, for the fabled Vinland where grapes grew in rapturous abandonment and the Skaerlings fired arrows at any Norseman bringing them freedom—’

‘That sounds a bit antisocial, Daddy.’ Screen Shot 2016-11-29 at 20.44.14.png

‘It worked though, Toots. Knut’s ship—’

‘What was its name, Daddy?’

‘How about Phaedra? We can call it Phed, for short; but I have reservations—’

‘Phed will do, Daddy. Please get on with it.’

‘Now the ship to all appearances was magnificent,the biggest and most powerful ship that ever floated—’

‘Goody! I feel safe with the Phed, Daddy.’

‘—but the previous captain (who was famed for his magnificent bushy beard) and his adviser a guy called Allunna Greenbridge (he got seasick a lot) had several near disasters with rocky shoals and actually hit some highly visible rocks. Despite half the crew shouting warnings they drove on ahead, luckily it was just a glancing blow but the damage was done below the waterline. They were actually very happy to pass the ship on to the next officers—’

‘Knut and Cranky?’

‘That’s them. They knew, of course, but so long as the minstrel kept plugging the leaks when they opened and the bilges pumped the crew didn’t care. All they cared about was plunder, mead, and forcing their attentions upon damsels wherever they could—’

‘Oh!’

‘But as soon as they set sail for the west this time the seer became all agitated and started predicting doom, gloom, and disaster—’

‘A Jonah? You don’t need one of those on a ship do you, Daddy?’

‘Not when they’re right, my Cherub. But Baen shouted much much louder so the crew listened to him and they ignored the seer completely, even when the water started lapping round their feet. Actually they amused themselves by mocking him and pointing out all the many reasons why the ship couldn’t possibly sink — it’s made of wood, for one thing, and everyone knows wood floats — even when it started settling by the bows—’

‘Settling, Daddy?’

‘Sinking, Babe. It began sinking at the sharp end and everyone had to move down the back toot sweet—’

‘Were they saved, Daddy’

‘There was nobody to go to their aid, Kid. Strangely enough the same thing happened to every other sea-going vessel in the world at the same time; all were going down, some faster than others. The Greek triremes were having a very rough time of it, such as were left; poor design and stewardship. Knut’s only hope was for them to save themselves.’

‘Poor Phed! Did they, Daddy?’

‘They stayed afloat by cunning stratagems, Child. The worst holes were of course underwater at the bows but Cranky had the crew use their battle-axes to chop the thwarts into little bits to plug them—’

‘Clever, Daddy.’

‘Yes … but it only worked until the patches were blown inwards by the overwhelming power of the sea—’

‘Then what, Daddy? Do please tell, I’m all agog.’

‘So Knut and Baen came up with another plan to bail them out and prop them up. The back end of the ship was sticking out of the water by now—’

‘Oh, I don’t think I’m going to like thi—’

‘—so they got the crew to chop pieces out of it to refill the holes in the front; which they did with all the enthusiasm generated by utter blind faith in the wisdom of their expert leaders—’

‘But Daddy! That means … … and it’s inevitable!’

‘Yes, wee Olivia; you can see that and I can see that but they couldn’t … anyway, we shall have to leave it here, my leg is going numb and it’s time for our popcorn.’

‘So we’re going to leave them sinking in a shattered hulk? Daddy, I don’t like this story after all—’

“I offered you fish, Child, but you wanted chips. And now, our coffee. You’re on popping, Poppet, don’t forget!’




Screen Shot 2016-11-29 at 20.27.10.png

—and if nobody throws things at me I may just post you the other (it was written when I needed some extra cash and took a temporary job on a farm.)(The Guys in the US Fed solved their needs the easy way by pumping endless ever-devaluing dollars into the system)(they should have gone a-milking)kismet

IN A NUTSHELL,

Smiley boom.pngBOOM BOOM!!!

Easily the finest example of illogical wannabe Politically Correct ‘thinking’ I have ever seen.

We should have these people stuffed …

But first, your backgrounder:

To drive that, a Swedish risk specialist and philanthropist is offering a $5 million prize for the best idea to create a new international decision-making system capable of tackling the world’s intractable issues, from extreme poverty to the spread of nuclear weapons and growing environmental damage.

“Today’s risks are so dangerous and so global in their nature that they’ve outrun the international system’s ability to deal with them,” said László Szombatfalvy, who fled from Hungary to Sweden in 1956 as a refugee, and later made a fortune in the stock market.

Read more?  CLICK HERE

SEE THE POINT

yet? No?

Okay, Clue Time: some great philosopher once murmured to the effect “think in other dimensions.” Some other genius growled to the effect “if you keep on doing the same old thing ya gonna keep on getting the same old results.” Duh.

OL’ ARGUS WOULD NEVER

get the prize anyway so I’ll table my brilliant ideas here, and if anyone wishes they may claim them as their own and feel free.

The solution offered in the ref’d article leans toward (okay, advocates) not only more ‘United’ Nationing but a bigger and better United Nations.

I like it (yes—that is sarcasm). I adore anyone who, if it doesn’t work the first seventy years, let’s do it again, and hang in there with it. Actually, it will never work but in the meantime does keep some people off the streets, away from productive jobs, in nice suits and posh cars.

BEFORE I OFFER MY SOLUTION

let me give you one last quote (same source):

Entries for the New Shape Prize close on May 24, 2017, and the winning idea will be chosen by a panel of academic experts and a high-level international jury.

Make of that what you will—a panel of experts (academic experts, wow~!) and a jury (high-level, wow some more). Talk about no-one getting the blame if it all goes belly up—spread the risk, gotta be democratic about this.

MY CLEVER CUNNING,

inconceivable, and “They’re not yet ready for this, Jim!” novel solution:

Education

(Wot? That’s it? Awwk!)

But education with a difference.

MEANING:

don’t teach ’em ‘facts’. Facts change to suit time and place. Facts are fashion, mostly.

Just teach ’em how to think

 

Think. Think? Brrrr. None of that delightful socially compliant boss-pleasing Politically Correct rubbish but objective reasoning based on Reality. Genuine facts (discernment, anybody?).

pcGET EACH AND EVERY

boofhead to the point where he or she can (and does) think for himself. Herself. Itself. Theirself(s). (It’s not easy, is it, being PC? I think I’ll stay with traditional.)

It may hurt all round to get folks thinking but once they are they’ll no longer be boofheads. And there’ll be no need for ever-increasing self-dividing mass multiplying exponentially-growing organisations like United Nationses and EU’s and such.

“Mr Argus, Sir?”

“Yes, Little Virginia?”

“Sir … where does their five million dollars come from?”

“Don’t ask, Kid. You may embarrass someone …”

DARE I REPEAT MYSELF

again? Of course:

“Education not based on Reality isn’t education, it’s propaganda.”

 

Concur? Oh good—there’s hope for us yet.

So if your education and Reality contradict each other, just always remember that there are no such things as contradictions.

Screen Shot 2016-11-27 at 17.54.01.png

I come in peace, love, and friendship. Give me a hug~!

TALKING OF NEEDING A HUG—

hugless in Seattle.png

As an innocent bystander she really shouldn’t be there, so close to cold water on a day like this she might catch something. The United Nations should make a ruling about it …

boom-boom

YOU GET WHAT

YOU PAY FOR.

The Gods are in their Heavens and all is well with the world: capitalism works.

No?


 

Taxes, boom boom.png


 

THESE ARE YOUR

TAX DOLLARS at work. Tax Euros at work. Tax monies at work … shouldn’t we all be petitioning our governments to import more of these poor folks? (Hah! We actually are, here, boom boom!)

I’M STILL

trying to plough through my copy of the holey Koran. I can see the appeal for the weak mind, the unprincipled, and the wishful.

It is a truly hypnotic document: you just try saying—

maggie.png

—fifteen times in every other sentence (the book is a lot of sentences) and I challenge you to reach the far end without loving maggots. Maggots, you will find, are good, kind, compassionate, merciful, and you’ll be wanting to saw the heads off anyone saying otherwise. Don’t just take my word for it … go ahead, try it for yourself—

Maggothu akbar!

This is the power of hypnotic repetition in propaganda … but what do I know? I’m just a tired old dog. Wait, it’s not over yet—


oink.pngoinking.png


 

cerberus-2To read the articles from source: click ’em.

 

 

DAMNED

DENIERS!

M is R 1.pngOff with their heads!

Well, we have Deniers … and we also have those denier deniers arrogantly blasting their opinions over the rest of us as if volume makes up for lack of substance. Not good. (But very popular.)

For myself I offer my opinions on the basis of “take it or leave it as you see fit” … and may your god(s) go with you. Or read on—

My opinions are the best I can synthesise from the materials on offer. Sometimes they clash with conventional (ie, popular) ‘thinking’ but every raving nutter from Hippocrates thru Galileo, Columbus, etc to Einstein and beyond had the same. Hell, one Doctor Semelweiss was locked away as barking mad for insisting that the medics of his time please wash their hands between dissecting over-ripe cadavers and delivering babies* (they often went straight from one to the other—that’s what those frock-coats were for, wiping hands on)(and the fouler they got, the better the doctor).

But I sometimes take umbrage when someone fires snide broadsides at we Conspiracy Nuts. Why?

Not because I am one (a given) but because all the world’s goops are coming to a nice boil right now, making sense only from the nutty viewpoint:

  • Either the people in the highest offices of this world are completely stupid

or

  • they are unarguably insane

or

  • they really are working to a concealed agenda of their own.

In the absence of evidence one has to use models (think global warming, computers, peak oil, and enthusiastic myopic eggheads scientists) and then run various scenarios through the mind—you know, that old ever-reliable “what if?”.

Doing such calls for a degree of imagination — and that’s where the pedantic dogmatic fall over. Unfortunately; their volume and vitriol fill the gap. Or is it fear?

But what if … we nutters are actually right?

sv

* Can you even imagine it? Brrr~!

Some total idiot running around scaring folks with talk of tiny little animals (“So small you can’t actually see them … no, wait; they really are there! Really!”) being carried from corpse to birthing mother on the doctor’s hands;  tiny invisible little animals which then kill off the patients? Mad—! (No wonder they locked him up. Sheesh!)

Screen Shot 2016-11-27 at 00.21.06.png

WAR GRAVES,

JUNK?

Screen Shot 2016-11-24 at 18.25.56.pngOr a genuine resource? Beauty, they say, is in the eye of the beholder. But do resources belong to … whom?

RECENTLY

it was discovered that the wreck of HMS Exeter, an eight-inch Royal Navy cruiser of WW2 has been totally removed (gone, departed, no longer extant) by salvagers. Some will call them vultures—but are they?

OUR OWN

‘science’ of archaeology has ruthlessly plundered tombs and battlefields with mad reckless abandonment (and nary a twinge of conscience) all over the world for generations. So: what is the difference between taking artefacts from Cannae, Lepanto, Trafalgar, The Somme, Kohima, the Deep Blue Sea, Pusan, Hanoi, Aleppo? (Only time …)

HMS Exeter 1.jpgAll that remains of Exeter now is a large dent*  in the seabed.

Someone went to a great deal of bother and expense to salvage thousands of tons of rust steel, brass, bronze, copper and stuff; for subsequent resale and profit.

HMS Exeter 2.pngExeter, post battle of River Plate

Even all bashed about that metal was well worth salvaging, to someone who simply doesn’t care for now-ancient history, or the sensitivities of foreign cultures.

TO NOT DIGRESS

all over the world some people are searching for fame missing ships—to provide glory for the finders ‘closure for the relatives of the deceased’. For WW2 ships most of the folks who knew the players at the time are now history themselves, and we’ve moved into an entirely different age. Entirely different technology, entirely different mindset.

But: those ships are ‘war graves’~!  (SFX: loud justified squawk here, please)

Oh … really?

One of the articles I read on Exeter’s salvage said that there are/would be no human remains left there now. Nary a skerrick. Such a sunken ship was, before salvage, a battlefield, yes; a scene of great sacrifice and fear and such—but now simply a metal mine. Viewpoint is everything. Pragmatism wins.

I OFFER (1)

that the folks who salvaged that lot took quite a few risks themselves, if only to swim down with a rope and tie it to the gun barrel or whatever. It wouldn’t have come easily. And possibly if any ammo left hadn’t dissolved it might have crystallised into something hideously sensitive and dangerous.

And that they weren’t British—or if they were, they weren’t of a generation with any personal investment in WW2.

Possibly they were Asians, and of totally different religion and philosophies anyway; with as much concern for deceased round-eyes as perhaps the great Petrie had for the late Pharaoh Khafre.

I OFFER (2)

That if any more wrecks are found they be kept entirely secret. (Rather a meaningless suggestion given the readily available technologies of today, but better than nothing.)

Possibly the site of the once-was-a-wreck (okay, the dent) be marked up as a grave site and haveothers.png done with it; anyone interested can come along and drop overboard a few flowers.

I HAVE BEEN

On a warship making courtesy calls on the wrecks of Prince of Wales and Repulse. Let me tell you, there’s nothing much to see from above but sea.

I’m pretty sure that it won’t be too long before those ships too become mere dents … and there’ll be more, many more; grave robber/salvagers aren’t choosey. Simply posting signs or appealing to their consciences won’t stop them.

kismet

more.png

*
dent.png

wreck-site (dent) of HMS Exeter

I HADN’T

SEEN THIS UNTIL

I found the magazine in an Op Shoppe. Crank magazine, of course, never to be confused with either—

(a) common sense, or

(b) what is actually happening in the world.

Make of it what you will (and I thought that I was the only cracked egg in the carton—so there’s hope for me yet~!).

Screen Shot 2016-11-23 at 19.54.38.png

BE WARNED

if you do go to the guy’s webbie you may find he has some very ‘alternative’ notions. I like nutters, I much prefer them to unthinking sheeple, but there ya go…

To each his own.

kismet

PS  For further info, try:   http://uncensored.co.nz