Thursday, 30 October 2014

Lock Down

So finally all the talk, from all the parties is about immigration. But the Tories and Labour, while saying they get it, obviously don’t because they are carrying on regardless and just playing the blame game. “You let them in in the first place!” squeal the blues. “Yes but it’s got worse since you lot have been in charge!” said Yvette Balls on PM. It’s not even argument and counter-argument it’s just the same old slanging match that has caused voters to leave them in droves. Now shut the fuck up, Westminster, because until you do you will never hear a thing the people you despise have been saying for half a century.

Quotas. Tighter border controls. Aggressive, black-shirt, UKBA uniforms. Welfare restrictions… It’s all just bollocks in the light of the knowledge that the 50,000 illegals we know have gone missing are only the tip of an iceberg; by some estimates, the UK population is some ten million more than appear on any census. There are parts of some major cities where dense populations of uncounted, utterly foreign, untouchables hide in plain sight from all officialdom, shielded by the sacred force-field of political correctness. The time for tolerance is over; our tolerance has not been met with the appropriate levels of gratitude and we need to get serious.

Close the borders tight. I mean really tight. The EU can shove itself up its own arsehole. Make it impossible to get in without a very good reason for being here. Being a sub-minimum wage slave isn’t one of those reasons. Being a relative of one isn’t either. All foreign nationals convicted of any serious crime should do their time in prison hulks moored offshore prior to being returned whence they came, if necessary in body bags. Oh and Britain already has a national religion, harmless and rightly ignored by the majority; we neither need nor want any others, but as long as you practise your primitive satanic observances in private then fair enough. But build another super-mosque and you can stand by for the bulldozers.

We need to become one of those countries where taking the piss can swiftly land you on the outside. Workforce: don’t import what you don’t need. Indigenous population: don’t breed what you can’t feed. Next year the NHS has a budget of £133Billion, with defence spending a miserly £45Billion. Let’s swap them, for a start and go on a massive recruitment drive to employ hundreds of thousands of UK-born youngsters in the task of becoming British again. A bit of healthy fresh air and exercise, a bit of backbone and pride and they won't need the health service. Those that don’t sign up can still be useful… as targets.

Palmerston's Folly? Think again

Britain could become great again – for the British. Anybody who fits in and contributes would be welcome but freeloaders can fuck off, no protracted appeals, no fanciful ‘human rights’. You have the right to work and pay tax and not be stabbed; beyond that it’s your lookout and if you don’t like it here we will happily hold the door open for you and watch as it slaps you on the arse as you leave. And that goes for every single card-carrying apologist for socialism in all its forms. If you love everything about immigrants so much maybe it’s time you became one?

Wednesday, 29 October 2014

Too many men in a boat

Immigration is a net benefit, they tell us. It enriches us, they say. It gives us cheap nannies, exotic cuisine and cleaners who will work for the scraps in our gold-plated kitchen waste bins. It reveals to us and allows some of us to share in exciting new ways of ordering society; for an example see how culturally enlightened the grateful inhabitants of Rotherham have been over the last couple of decades. Immigration is so good, the Mayor of Calais wants us to have all of hers and the Italian Navy just adores spending millions to rescue 150,000 Africans every year so they can carry on their migration and bring us their wonderful, murderous diversity.

One wealthy lefty’s enrichment is a whole civilised nation’s cultural erosion. The destruction of Britishness has been a deliberate project by the squeamish, liberal guilt-whores to punish us for our unlived past; to atone for the newly created crimes of unknown forefathers. How dare we bring light to the dark continent where now the natives so fervently seek the return of their beloved despair? In Britain and Europe We struggled for centuries to create a world worth living in and now the politically sensitive idiots in charge have, in a few short generations, undone all that was good about that world. Why should we rush to further hasten our demise?

A man I never knew commits suicide over losing his job, or having been diagnosed with cancer. Maybe his wife left him, or his deranged attempt at fame fell on an unmoved public – the X-Factor’s freak show baying sending him over the edge. What, I should take some of the blame? I should shoulder some of the responsibility? Why? I didn’t start any war in Eritrea, a famine in Sudan, an islamic uprising across the arab world. I never caused a single tsunami, a flood or a volcanic eruption. I haven’t warmed the planet by as much as quintillionth of a degree and I am certainly not responsible for every fuckwit, baby-eating, brutal African dictator.

So why does the government, who are supposed to work on my behalf and the behalf of the majority of my countrymen, feel that we must pay more taxes in order to right wrongs that are neither of our making nor our concern? Why would we want to pay to allow the importation of backward and genuinely inferior peoples to rape and destroy our comfy world? Because, as sure as weather, this is the true effect of mass immigration for those who do not benefit from it; that majority of working British people who have been told to say nothing about it by politicians and police for years.

The Calais Mayor is sick of trying to stem the tide and has demanded that the UK border be pushed back to UK. She’s wrong; free movement of people across the continent is the biggest part of the problem and currently the European border is where the war should be fought. Yes, war; what else do you call mass invasion by foreign forces intent on bringing us their societal diseases? Once into Europe they seem only to be stopped by water, so roll the border back beyond the EU’s shores.


That EU task force set to take over from the Italian Navy? To send the message that rescue may not be guaranteed? Sod rescue. Sod patrolling European territorial waters. Move that force south, off the North African coast and arm them. Sink those festering boatloads of trouble as fast they launch them. Now THAT might send the right message.

Thursday, 16 October 2014

Able Bodies

What do you have to say to get noticed these days? Judging by the latest crop of Apprentice wannabes a load of bollocks ought to do it. Or you could just tell the truth. Lord Freud is in trouble because he did just that. Okay it may be a truth we don’t want to hear and he might have couched his utterance in less stark terms but it’s still true and for the avoidance of doubt I repeat it here. Some people, economically, are worth less than others. I know; what a heartless bastard I must be. I make no claim to be otherwise but nevertheless the market daily sets people's individual worth, based on their productivity, abilities, availability and yes, sometimes, their actual appearance.

Only one person in the world can be, say, Bruce Willis, while for all their efforts the majority of the world’s billions might be better utilised as furniture. Why should it be somehow inhumane to say that some people, for whatever reason, make a smaller contribution to a nation's wealth than others? Lord Freud is guilty of only one thing - being recorded giving an answer in a public forum, allowing Labour to wait for a PR opportunity to use it in faux-anger. The PC World we now inhabit peddles all sorts of misguided equal-opportunities garbage and woe-betide the public figure who forgets that the whole purpose of opposition is to prevent the government from running the country.

Thus a perfectly rational response to a valid - albeit fundamentally tricky - question about how to finagle the minimum wage rules, yet still make it possible to employ disabled people without bankrupting companies, whilst also protecting their feelings has become the latest demonstration of why lefties are unfit to run anything, ever. Their sensitive skins prickle at the merest mention of harsh reality, or more likely they are just in tune to anything from which they can  raise a stink of outrage.

I heard a spokesmanperson for DAM ('Disabilities are Marvellous’) or whatever on the PM programme insisting that, in effect, disabled people are just as abled as non-disabled persons. That far from 'dis' their ability was not only absolutely fabby, but that they may even possess super powers... just so long as they were assisted in some ways. Thus a limbless window cleaner could be just as productive as a fully-complemented one, were they only accompanied by, say, an actual window cleaner. She tied herself in knots trying to be politically on-message and deny the evidence that all disabled people have to face and overcome daily.

I could have been somebody; I could have been a contender. I could have been a millionaire, if only somebody would give me a million quid. I could be an international movie star; all I lack is the looks and the talent... and the luck. And sadly, luck is a very real and harsh aspect of all this. The cards are not dealt evenly, but to try and pretend otherwise is disingenuous. Plenty of disabled people put up with their unfair lot and want nothing other than acceptance by society, while others genuinely do need every bit of help we can provide. Lord Freud was actually mooting such help.

Not for political gain, Mr Miliband

I have no axe to grind about disabled rights; many people overcome what to the rest of us seem insurmountable challenges to do sterling work at all sorts of levels... sometimes around about waist height. Okay, bad taste (even I can see that) but you may be surprised to learn that disabled people have a sense of humour... yes, just like the rest of us; you prejudiced pre-judger you. And while they rightly hate being dismissed they also hate being treated with kid gloves. Or as if they weren't there. I heard no actual disabled voices raised in genuine, first-hand protest, merely those of disabled rights ‘activists’ and opportunist political knob-jockeys. So, do you want the truth? Or the lie that the grasping, manipulating left give any more of a fuck about you beyond your vote?

Monday, 13 October 2014

Doing the maths

You go to work for forty hours a week and earn, being over 21, £6.50 per hour. That’s £260 which, after tax earns you the princely take-home wage of £233.62, assuming you are paid 52 weeks of the year. As a lowly cleaner/shift-worker/shelf-stacker this is your lot in life and it doesn’t even cover your rent and basic services, so the state steps in and helps out with a few thousand quid to keep you in your sub-standard, cold and damp private let and you struggle gamely on, juggling work, kids and what home life you have (television) in this life you never asked for.

Next door, the family on £26k a year in benefits, the equivalent of a salary of £34k, carry on their life of relative ease and never see you as you leave for work each day because behind their curtains they are sleeping away last night’s revelry; any night can be a party night if you have nothing to get up for. But hey, you say, that’s okay because it’s some other idiot’s tax they are spending, you get back many times the paltry £1371.68 you pay in each year and you believe that people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

“Mustn’t grumble” your grandfather said and after all, you’re not living on the street and starving, we have a mostly-free health service and a pretty decent societal moral compass. But, still, a pay rise wouldn’t go amiss, so you ask… and you are denied. Mr Miliband says he will increase the minimum wage, but it turns out that so, too, will the coalition and in the same timescale. In a misty memory of a long-forgotten maths lesson you dimly remember that if wages rise, so will prices, but you don’t get a chance to observe this in practice because soon your hours are reduced. A rival firm, employing only migrant labour on sub-minimum wage is taking work from your employers.

With a sigh and a stiffened upper lip you take yourself off to the Job Centre to discover that few locals are finding employment and much of the background chatter is foreign, but at least they have plenty of interpreters on hand and will also help you claim all that you are entitled to. You worry a bit about that ‘entitled’ but, as you’ve worked pretty much since you left school you accept the assistance, promising yourself that it is only until you can find a decent job for reasonable pay. That day doesn’t come, of course and as you settle into a life on benefits you do the sums and realise you will never make a better living than this; you have joined the ranks of the forgotten.

If you observe that all the shop workers are eastern European and you suspect they are being exploited you are called racist. When you draw attention to the uneasy feeling you get when you see private hire cars parked up in a cul-de-sac with a gaggle of school-age girls making familiar with the drivers you are called a racist. Proffer any opinion that our society is becoming fractured into ethnic enclaves which do not mix and you are labelled a racist. Your memory of the Britain you grew up in is challenged; you are wrong – it’s always been this way, they tell you. Besides, Britain has for too long paid too high wages by comparison with the global labour market; you are lucky the immigrants are here to pay for your benefits.

In the balance

You do the maths again and can't make that last statement add up at all. And as for being a mere commodity on the global market, when did you ask for that? So what options do you have? Vote for change? You already tried that… and nothing changed. Now what? You express your frustration by flirting with Ukip… and they call you a fruitcake. But what else is there? You ask around and discover that you are not alone; many are abandoning the old order and tentatively grasping at the Ukip straw. It’s a cry for help – Ukip don't necessarily have any more of an answer than anybody else, but at least they seem to understand you and you want your problems to be recognised by somebody... anybody. So what do the Westminster elites do? They call you a loony. Everywhere you see the establishment flying the flag for anything but Britain, anybody but the British and denigrating all who object as 'closet racists'. 

Is it any wonder you are coming out of the closet?

Saturday, 11 October 2014

They never learn...

Einstein, or somebody else clever, is supposed to have said that forever repeating the same actions, with the same undesired outcomes, is a sure sign of madness; much as banging your head against a wall will only exacerbate the pain of the first time. As they say, it ain’t rocket science, although Einstein may beg to differ. What it is though is plain old common sense. And by common I refer to the innate sense of justice of order, of right and wrong, primitive though it may be, of the common man.

Which is why it is almost painful to watch the old guard, both Labour and Conservative demonstrate their inability to think themselves outside the box against whose walls they are attempting to crack their skulls. Almost painful… with a side helping of glee and a hefty dose of incredulous fascination with just how ready they are to repeat the mistakes of the past. UKIP are racist fruitcakes, they said, as a result of which the racist fruitcakes – or as I like to call them, ordinary working class voters – switched their allegiance to the new kid on the block.

UKIP are nasty, they said; cue the further swelling of the ranks. Earnest thinkers pressed their heads together and came up with a new strategy…  Ukip are against immigration, which we all know is unremittingly ‘a good thing’, they announced. Meanwhile, the indigenous dispossessed, seeing the rising tide of mass, unskilled immigration overwhelm their local infrastructure came to different conclusions. And while Labour and Tory alike sought to paint those objections as bigotry, the parents of teenage girls abused by systematic imported sexual abuse on a massive scale sought out somebody, anybody, who would listen to them and make the right noises.

All along, the establishment parties have fought, not for the people who elect them but simply to retain their seats. And in that world of pure politics, where actions are the work of a lesser breed of ‘doer’ the solution is to keep on banging that head against the wall on which it is written that to maintain the illusion all is well is just as good as it being so. But down there in the common herd, where that repetitive denial of the truth and the refusal to examine the evidence causes real harm, what is obvious is that voters are despised by the political classes.

Even herds eventually learn from their mistakes and after a couple of generations of seeing the causal links between voting for Westminster and getting fuck all except castigation for their fears, the herd’s own head banging is stopping. All of a sudden the hated little people are banging instead the drum of support for a party of people much like themselves. Yes, the big boys are still claiming that Nigel Farage and Douglas Carswell are merely expellees from the same posh schools as Cameron and Miliband, but those hollow taunts are falling on ears wilfully deaf to anything the old mainstream parties have to say.

Stitched up like a 'Kipper!

It may turn out to be a complete waste of time… and energy and hope and finger-crossing, but the same old solution holds little appeal for those who live with the consequences of traditional government. And if they are turning to Ukip in uncertainty, being castigated as stupid for doing so is a sure fire way of convincing them they are making the right choice. So, go on, Labour, go on Conservative, go on, Lib Dems, you carry on bashing and watch as your minions lift their heads up from your walls and simply walk away.