Full Circle
Why mass open door migration is a price too high to get a decent chicken biriyani. Or haircut. Or even a bed bath when you are 81.
From The Singularity. “Your ancestors fought and died to preserve a progressive and homogenous white Christian civilisation and culture- the Hungarians resisting the Mohammedan dawn. And the gates of Vienna closed in the face of another. Now your so-called Leaders and Popes and Kings, have flung open the doors to both lands and minds”. "The Fool’s Fool”- Nerrad Edisrag.
Notes on a Wednesday afternoon.
Watching England go by on Platform 11. A New England we no longer recognise. Not all progress is progress. We have to travel ever further West to escape the force-fed “multiculturalism”, we neither wanted nor needed. We are cultural foie-gras; migration and ethnicity we never noticed much before, rammed down our throats. Watching in slow-motion a European civilizational collapse. As white Caucasian culture, a thousand years, slowly dissolves into a self-sabotaging mush of Wokeness, like the melted snow and black ice beneath their uncertain feet. The irony of ironies, is the mass idiocy that the highest evolution of representative Democracy produces- Woke Anonymous
NET ZERO- THE NEW RELGION: SAME OLD SUPERSTITION
“Papal infallibility of the Middle Ages, in which the Pope could never be in error, has been replaced in our own peculiar age by pontificating Experts. Follow The Science. The Climate orthodoxy and the heretics who dare question the question. Surely the Climate Science Gods can’t be wrong ? We need to placate them with Carbon Tax burnt offerings. Climate Superstition explains the mystery away. The Carbon CO2 Cult is the Scientology of “Climate Change”.
Waiting for the 7.03…
The Age of Euphemism is much more dangerous than the modern myth in the making, that is “AI” - which is neither Artificial or Intelligent. It is a world programmed by a goatee-bearded coder-gamer in Seattle. Which may be as real as… anything else in this falsehood we call Real Life. In which we may breath one moment and are run over, dead in the next breath. So we talk of having “Agency”. Being “Granular”. Of Rendition when we mean torture. Americans, fluent, bi-lingual in Euphemism, cannot tolerate too much reality.
It’s delayed.
The Zeddies, Gen Z young people, are now the most conservative of conservatives. Minds made rigid, cast in the image of our own paranoia by the Moanies, the Oldies their progenitors. As their society unravels, many will become ever more reactionary, more “right-wing” or Liberal Extremist, than their hippie parents and dippy grandparents, sixties stuck in the Sixties. They who never had it so good, rented the future to their children’s children.
Millennial Millennials who are given Mummy’s old VW, and have their insurance and mobiles paid for. Pink-haired and attitudinal thirty somethings, never allowed to grow up. Uniformly hoodied and painfully right-on, on-message, The Full-Woke. Until they get their first Payslip…
“What’s this- Deduction” one of them shrieked. “How much National Insurance?”… Got to pay for the Open Migration you marched for last weekend; blowing your whistle and dancing the macarena with the Nice Policeman. Not the one of four who held you face down during the Sarah Everard vigil. Your Choose Love baggy sweat shirt didn’t mean a thing. Nor the banner you made- took you all night- “Wadhurst Says Refugees Welcome”.
Life imitates Propaganda. NSSM200.
We forget we are playing by not just different rules, but no rules. For the global hyper-rich elites, in imposing their Holy Theocracy, neither respect nor understand the intrinsic value of the individual as humanity itself. What you cannot understand you cannot respect. That is humanity. The freedom not to decide. The danger is, they think they know best.
What will they see, in our blurred future? When our degenerate descendants, curved-backed, short-sighted, narcissist apes look back at us. If there are any left to despair, they will mark the beginning of our descent, the descent of man, not by war or politics. But by the advent of brutalist modernism- in architecture. The poured concrete slab that will survive long after anyone can remember how to play Bach’s cello suites, or know why they should be awe-struck by the Sistine Chapel. They will wonder back at their stony-faced reflection in the mirror, how we could have had so much and gave it all away.
The 7.03, now the 7.33 arrives. But do I want to get on. To go home only to leave again.
Ever get the feeling you have lived the wrong life? It was why I left the Presentation early. Watching the PR bimbos “Donuting” the audience. Picking out every brown and mocha and girl face to stand behind the grinning new Party leader. Visual engineering. WYSIWYG. What you see isn’t what you get, not in Media La-La Land. Ignoring bald, flat-white latte men of an uncertain age- in “check shirts”. Unless to use them as Right Click Bait.
As the taxi driver said to himself. What are friends for ?
Sometimes the past was a better place. When England was England. Now that even nostalgia isn’t what it used to be. If only migration had been managed. The religion of “Multiculturalism” would not have need been imposed. Stamped on its black-and-white face. Immigration, like salt, the least added to enhance. Too much and well, as it says over-optimistically over the motorway slip out of Heathrow, “Welcome to the UK”. When all of Britain is now merely an extension of Terminal 3. A revolving door of revolving populations is not a society. It is not a destination, a place, but a cultural terminus. A Utopia- the Greek means “No Place”. A No Man’s Land perhaps. The elms have gone and the wrought iron gates rusted shut. You are Welcome to the UK. You are welcome to today.