AS FAR AS
I can tell. I would say it’s a sense of possession coupled with a sense of loss; multiplied by beliefs.
With clear conscience I state that I am as humanitarian as (almost) anybody.
With clear conscience I state that I am as possessive as anybody too. Raised in ‘free’ countries I always looked with condescending disbelief at the situations of others in less happier lands. I decided that they deserved themselves.
And they got it.
So why are we destroying ourselves to make room for them?
Who is pulling our strings?
Who, behind the scenes, is commanding our own masters? As sure as hell it’s not us—democracy be damned.
AS AN AGNOSTIC ATHEIST
I’m happy to accept that my nations’ (plural) politics were established rationally using Christianity as a part vehicle—you know, the old ‘do as you would be done by’ stuff that looks good but nobody actually does.
But there is a
SICKNESS IN THE WORLD
called Islam. Brrrr.
It’s taken Christian politics two thousand years to acquire equality-of-the-sexes, for example—a condition impossible under Islam where women are nothing more than breeding machines (to produce warriors for Allah) and receptacles for men’s lusts (rewards from Allah)—although Islamics will earnestly bleat that in Islam women are cherished, loved, protected … even put into black bags to ‘protect them from the lustful eyes of men who aren’t their
masters owners … theirs’.
SOMEONE BEHIND THE SCENES
has worked to bring down the western systems. Someone is flooding Europe with a great sickness, in the name of Compassion.
To suggest that it is NOT a good thing to import millions of savages into civilised Europe is to risk the wrath of all, including the ‘United’ Nations—opprobrium from the very people who will be the greatest victims of the coming changes.
I hope I’m wrong.
If I’m wrong, please tell me so—in words I can understand. And better—tell me WHY I am wrong.
Until then I offer these pale echoes—
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house
Against the envy of less happier lands;
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
this nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
Feared be their breed and famous by their birth,
Renowned for their deeds as far from home
For Christian service and true chivalry
As is the sepulchre, in stubborn Jewry,
Of the world’s ransom, blessed Mary’s son;
This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leased out – I die pronouncing it –
Like to a tenement or a pelting farm.
England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds.
That England that was wont to conquer others
Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
—make of it what you will.
IF YOU CAN
spare the time, this guy has his finger well on the pulse—
—and names the principle tool of the enemy.