What's the point?

They are coming for Tommy Robinson [NHRN] again. Of course they are; they are terrified that despite the serial no-platforming he still has purchase, he still has resonance and on a level playing field he has a real chance of being elected as an MEP. The reaction of the establishment, instinctively left-wing in structure, is to frantically ban, block, obstruct and smear. In fact hysteria is the constant feature of the loony left’s schtick; everything is portrayed in apocalyptic terms: last chance to: save the NHS, last chance to save the planet, last chance to resist the rise of the far-right..

The shrieking, keyboard-bashing, Guardianista-style commentators have it wrong – and they are so hostage to confirmation bias that they simply can’t see it - pursuing the far right fox as if it was real and not just a figment of their imagination. David Lammy, as a flag-bearer for the most extreme of wolf-criers, daily exceeds even his own propensity for hyperbole and regularly, if tacitly, urges direct action against the imaginary lupine hordes. John McDonnell is less subtle. Thuggish behaviour exists on both sides, but if you kill for animal rights you are a saint, while holding a Brexit banner makes you a Nazi, apparently. And Nazis deserve to be punched, right? When this is the narrative Tommy Robinson _[NHRN] being ‘milkshaked’ becomes the act of a freedom fighter

The referendum was an act of direct democracy and certain people didn’t like it. Indeed the EU’s emptiest vessels have openly and loudly decried such blatant exercises of ‘populism’. “Let the people decide? Are you mad?” they cry. We have to decide if democracy is what we want because if we do want it we are inevitably going to get people voting in a way the elected heads disapprove. Trying to stifle the voices, shut down the debate, ban certain views, criminalise certain thoughts is expressly not democracy, it is totalitarianism and yes, this is exactly where socialism leads. If Tommy Robinson is the 'literally Hitler', then socialism is the direct road to full communism; a one-world open borders, ungovernable, chaotic, lowest common denominator planet, where a tiny minority rule over a vast human herd.

How about– and yes I’m going to say it – you just calm down dears. If somebody in a dead-end life in a boarded up street feels the local muslim community is taking over maybe they have a point? When four-year olds are being asked what gender they would like to be; when people think they are being abused and manipulated, marginalised and forgotten, maybe they have a point? When the British taxpayer, squeezed to buggery, wants to resist the too-rapid imposition of a fuel system which does not work for the majority and don’t want to pay yet more tax so that – once again – the better off benefit, maybe they have a point.

It's the same old question, 

but neither side really has the answer.

And when we say that the far right is nothing of the sort; when we point out that raising the spectre of Nazism is a hysterical propaganda move; when we recognise that the millions of working people voting to leave the grand socialist project are peacefully using their vote to express their dissatisfaction and reject the perpetual whining and impositions of the establishment and its leftist institutions... maybe we, too, have a point?

Reap the Whirlwind

If you wanted examples of how far the left have gone to turn into a pantomime version of themselves, yesterday was a joy to behold. Following a rousing conference closure in which Theresa May channelled Thatcher at her most potent the ‘progressive’ world took to social media to rend their garments and put on a display of abject socialist moronry the like of which hasn’t been seen since... well, since last week at the Labour fringe.

Tim Farron, as if to prove his inability to grasp anything at all, let alone the levers of power tweeted a propos of nothing, “I am a proud Northerner, Brit, European and citizen of the world. How dare Theresa May tell people like me we have no identity.” To which the good tweeters responded with hoots and jeers and suggestions he take up residence elsewhere in this world of which he holds citizenship. The word irrelevant cropped up more than once.

Owen Jones’ reaction to Amber Rudd’s proposal to make companies disclose the profile of their work force, as many European countries do, was to declare that there was a “special place in hell” for her and other politicians who “incite bigotry for political gain”. Again and again the response of the left was a bleating insistence that Hitler had risen again and was stoking up the furnaces and commissioning the gas chambers anew... and that such people ought to be violently disposed of.

An appropriately named – if slightly misspelled - Joe Moran coined his own rousing slogan with “Our Full English Brexit is now served with two rashers of bigotry, grilled ingratitude, scrambled economics and a bottomless mug of delusion.” Oh, the irony. In fact, the more I read that oft-retweeted ode, the more I am reminded of doublethink and the plight of these hostages to their own fragile belief systems.

I went to bed to the strains of listeners phoning Ian Collins on LBC to regale him with stories of jack-booted Stormtroopers marching down their streets and lynching anybody without a British passport, stamping on babies’ heads and punching and bayoneting the sick and elderly... in their fevered dreams. It is almost as if they actually wish for all this stuff to happen. The words ‘fascist’ and ‘Nazi’ tumbled from the lips of a succession of dribbling loons, as they called in from their cosy parlours in quiet, safe, tidy, suburban streets.

The left-wing world has driven itself quietly mad. Hypocrisy is endemic as it simultaneously demands free speech yet stamps down on any utterance it deems hateful. And given that it hates itself so much, many of the targets are the very people it should defend. In particular, there is one thing the left appears to hate more than anything – success. Indeed the Labour Party has utterly rejected every element of the Blairite years the only period, they might like to ponder, that they held power since almost forty years ago.

And as the left’s hysteria rises, as the social justice warriors and NHS liberators (I’m never sure what they think they are saving the NHS from) sing battle hymns from the picket lines, imagining that the honks from disrupted commuters is universal approval; as they tell themselves, even as they stand in the cold, that the world is on their side and that their imaginary war against the will of the majority is righteous, how are they thanked for swallowing the fairy tale and crying wolf?

No, really, it's the way I tell 'em. No YOU shut up!

Some people will never be happy until they are forced from their beds at dawn and loaded onto cattle trucks, to be driven at gunpoint to the Job Centres. In their imaginations their lives will be spent in bleak gulags under sentences of hard labour, or as the rest of the world calls it, work, which is the engine of all that hated success. Meanwhile, in Florida, thousands are being evacuated before their homes are flattened by Hurricane Matthew. I suppose that will be Theresa May’s doing, too.

Reap the Whirlwind

If you wanted examples of how far the left have gone to turn into a pantomime version of themselves, yesterday was a joy to behold. Following a rousing conference closure in which Theresa May channelled Thatcher at her most potent the ‘progressive’ world took to social media to rend their garments and put on a display of abject socialist moronry the like of which hasn’t been seen since... well, since last week at the Labour fringe.

Tim Farron, as if to prove his inability to grasp anything at all, let alone the levers of power tweeted a propos of nothing, “I am a proud Northerner, Brit, European and citizen of the world. How dare Theresa May tell people like me we have no identity.” To which the good tweeters responded with hoots and jeers and suggestions he take up residence elsewhere in this world of which he holds citizenship. The word irrelevant cropped up more than once.

Owen Jones’ reaction to Amber Rudd’s proposal to make companies disclose the profile of their work force, as many European countries do, was to declare that there was a “special place in hell” for her and other politicians who “incite bigotry for political gain”. Again and again the response of the left was a bleating insistence that Hitler had risen again and was stoking up the furnaces and commissioning the gas chambers anew... and that such people ought to be violently disposed of.

An appropriately named – if slightly misspelled - Joe Moran coined his own rousing slogan with “Our Full English Brexit is now served with two rashers of bigotry, grilled ingratitude, scrambled economics and a bottomless mug of delusion.” Oh, the irony. In fact, the more I read that oft-retweeted ode, the more I am reminded of doublethink and the plight of these hostages to their own fragile belief systems.

I went to bed to the strains of listeners phoning Ian Collins on LBC to regale him with stories of jack-booted Stormtroopers marching down their streets and lynching anybody without a British passport, stamping on babies’ heads and punching and bayoneting the sick and elderly... in their fevered dreams. It is almost as if they actually wish for all this stuff to happen. The words ‘fascist’ and ‘Nazi’ tumbled from the lips of a succession of dribbling loons, as they called in from their cosy parlours in quiet, safe, tidy, suburban streets.

The left-wing world has driven itself quietly mad. Hypocrisy is endemic as it simultaneously demands free speech yet stamps down on any utterance it deems hateful. And given that it hates itself so much, many of the targets are the very people it should defend. In particular, there is one thing the left appears to hate more than anything – success. Indeed the Labour Party has utterly rejected every element of the Blairite years the only period, they might like to ponder, that they held power since almost forty years ago.

And as the left’s hysteria rises, as the social justice warriors and NHS liberators (I’m never sure what they think they are saving the NHS from) sing battle hymns from the picket lines, imagining that the honks from disrupted commuters is universal approval; as they tell themselves, even as they stand in the cold, that the world is on their side and that their imaginary war against the will of the majority is righteous, how are they thanked for swallowing the fairy tale and crying wolf?

No, really, it's the way I tell 'em. No YOU shut up!

Some people will never be happy until they are forced from their beds at dawn and loaded onto cattle trucks, to be driven at gunpoint to the Job Centres. In their imaginations their lives will be spent in bleak gulags under sentences of hard labour, or as the rest of the world calls it, work, which is the engine of all that hated success. Meanwhile, in Florida, thousands are being evacuated before their homes are flattened by Hurricane Matthew. I suppose that will be Theresa May’s doing, too.