Going for a Tramp

I genuinely do not give a fig about the welfare of the sub-human pests who seek to invade our shores, despoil our towns and make large with our diminishing resources. I don’t care that they come from somewhere with less, where they lead hopeless lives in squalid conditions and resort to sub-human behaviour to survive. I am unmoved by the plight of children, who did not ask to be born, struggling to come to terms with a world that doesn’t want them. I want them gone and I really don’t care how that is achieved.

If all the world’s resources were spread equally amongst all the world’s human population then everybody would be significantly less well off than what is considered to be poor in the UK today. Give it a week, a month maybe and some would have more than others. Give it a year and we would have people living off landfill while others fortified the perimeters of their mansions. That is the way of our opportunistic, selfish species. It just is.

The kindest thing we could do for the vast majority of humans who live as little more than animals is leave them to it. Let their natural disasters control their populations and accept we can’t help everybody. Otherwise, as you see in the case of the Romanian gypsies cleared from Barnet today, like vermin they will colonise new ground and bring their breeding-for-survival lifestyles with them.

Looking at the pictures I don’t feel pity, I feel anger. Anger that they manage to get into the country at all. Anger that it takes seemingly forever to remove them. Anger that our supposed leaders plead impotence in the face of Brussels diktat. How much squalor, disease and crime is too much? Rather a lot, it would seem – we appear to have an insatiable appetite for imported misery.

There is still an offence of vagrancy, but we let our own population get out of control to the extent that it became largely unenforceable and unjust. There was once a workhouse system, seen as a last resort, but it was eventually deemed unusually cruel. We used to transport our undesirables. Now it seems, Europe is transporting its undesirables to us. Where does it stop?

Loveable Romany rascals!

Now, please excuse me, as I am off to do my bit, my patriotic duty. I’m going for a tramp in the woods.