It’s official; the world has gone mad. If the news that Dorset police are planning on sending out ‘thank you for not speeding’ letters doesn’t fill you with foreboding – we know where you were; we know where you live; we’ve been watching you - then consider the lunacy which has been visited upon those poor, oppressed students of Manchester University. Not content with seeing everybody with opposing views as, literally, Hitler, they are now determined to once again seek offence from beyond the veil. This time their target is that icon of Englishness, Rudyard Kipling.
So what that they think he disdained the brown man? (Though what of Gunga Din?) He was a man of his times and is a valuable ice core, revealing many of the views of those far-off days. We live in less enlightened times and I wonder how history will judge the youth of today. No charges of light brigades for them, no play up and play the game. Instead they are the generation which opened the door to the Trojan horse of multiculturalism and buried their own cultural identity forever. Will a future Sir Edward Gibbon record their part in our downfall?
But hey, if they are going to so willingly deface our heritage, I may as well get in first.
IF you can lose your rag when all about you
Are wearing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can blame yourself when brown men loathe you,
And make allowance for their loathing too;
If you can wait and simply keep on waiting,
Or being lied about, just accept those lies,
Or being hated, join in with all the hating,
You don't look good, and neither seem too wise:
Forget your dream - their dreams are now your master;
Try not to think – just fold and take the blame;
If you can bring both Crisis and Disaster
And accept those two sage prophets in your name;
If you can bear to hear the lies you've spoken
Enhanced by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the truths your father gave you, broken,
And stoop to blunting all his worn-down rules:
If you can make one heap of all your scratch-cards
Bought with welfare aid, who gives a toss?
And pile up all your values in the scrapyard
And plan to make islam your future boss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To sell your soul when honour has all gone,
And be so hollow there is nothing in you
Except the book which tells you it’s haram!'
If you can shun your kin but cling to virtue,
And sell your friends and lose the common touch,
If neither sense nor proven facts can reach you,
If reason seeks you out, but cannot touch;
If you can fill your worthless every minute
on your knees and show the world your bum,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be imam, my son!
What's not to like?
The usually erudite Battsby excells himself.
Made me chuckle and spot on the mark.ReplyDelete
Excellent, I was thinking of doing the same but you have aced it!!ReplyDelete