The last post was almost but not quite correct in every prediction - even my fitful dreams could not conjure a gang of temporarily licensed racists erecting a gallows and baying,
Bee Enn Pee, Justice For Lee; apart from that 18th century apparition, the post was spot-on. (In passing, it was obviously wasted on the BNP lynch mob that the two convicted were actually British themselves. Nigger British don't count, of course; Jew British, Paki British, Irish British, they don't count; there's only a tiny brave remnant of true Brits left, actually, unreformed, grunting, knuckle-dragging, pissed-up, face-stomping skinhead Nazis, bless them.) So keen was MediaMinster to further damn the two Michaels that all the hacks continued their spermy dribbling as the chants of the fascist mob crescendoed, MediaMinster raisng its voice ever louder, pretending that the vile background noise wasn't happening, or pretending, even worse, that these were the voices of a raucous compassion. Shame on all of them, focusing their limited, bought-and-paid-for minds on - how does it go? - the beam in their own eyes.
In the scale of these things, were we to ever examine them rationally, the killing of Lee Rigby is a tiny footnote and compared with how these atrocities have usually been conducted, it demonstrated an internally logical heroism, altruism, even.
Whatever Mr Justice Slag said
- and one cannot see him risking his comfy, pompous life for anything on Earth, much less for Justice; doesn't this arsehole know that Justice, our Justice, in a system where the lawmakers pray daily to Jesus, demands a consciousness of the possibility that all may repent and reform and be forgiven, does this cunt of a judge think that his court trumps that of God - these two felt themselves to be soldiers and were more than willing to die for their cause. Their target was not a civilian, he may have been in civilian clothes but he was a squaddie and in Afghanistan - or anywhere else - Fusilier Rigby would not have refused orders to kill any number of civilian women and children - go on, when's the last time that happened ? - it's not as though the modern BushBlairGlobaCorp war is conducted according to the Geneva Convention; countless Asian mothers will have wept that they did not expect to see their sons killed on their own streets by the likes of Lee Rigby, why is their loss meaningless to us? And isn't our indifference to our foreign policy the true cause of the drummerboy's death? Why is it OK, noble and brave for us to kill Muslims on their home streets but not OK for them to reciprocate, to return the bloody favour?
There is always a distortion of logic when a cop or a soldier gets killed but the unglossable truth of the matter is that both have chosen to join-up, both are, compared with most of us, well-pampered and pensioned, in return for which they are expected to insert themselves between Trouble and me; that is what they get paid for, better, therefore, that they die than that I do. Lots of fishermen, oilmen and construction workers die on duty, generally as a result of failure in those pesky, profit-hindering health and safety regulations, nobody gives a flying fuck about that, nobody offers a silent prayer over their fish'n'chips, well, nobody but me. But a squaddie or a constable, Christ, you'd think that the sky had fallen-in, should one of their number die.
If the IRA, anyway, had carried out this grisly killing, they would not have stood, talking to women and waiting to be killed by the cops; no, not the HardNancyMen, they would have planted booby-trap bombs to maim those women as they knelt to assist the victim, would have attempted to kill and maim their children and then they would have run away, sleekit, to a network of safe houses and maybe eventually to friends and supporters in the United States. The only bravery, the only willingness to die ever demonstrated by the IRA was displayed by Bobby Sands and the rest of the hunger strikers, Gerry Adams, the nonce and Marty Kneecaps always kept themselves well out of Harm's way. And, thanks to Tony Blair, they still do. I do believe that they, Marty and Gerry, are among a handful of - well, I was about to say Brits, but they're not Brits - a handful of people in Britain who are allowed to carry concealed handguns, purely for self-defence. We may not defend ourselves against terrorists but they may defend themselves against us. Y'see, it's the logic of Ruin.
The Birmingham 'pub bombings were truly cowardly; unlike the two Michaels, the IRA deliberately targeted young civilians, killing and maiming scores of them and the West Midlands cops - scum, even by police standards - framed the first six paddies they got their hands on. Lord Denning-Slag, among others, crushed their first appeal on the basis that it didn't matter if the police had lied, it simply would not be good for public order, public confidence, if he upheld the overwhelming evidence that they had lied their arses off. Best in the world, envy of the world, British justice.
Doubtless for political reasons those guilty of the Birmingham 'pub bombings have never been convicted. But if these cowardly bastards had been they would never have received a full-life penalty and whatever sentence they did receive it would have been hugged away, there-there'd by the ghastly Mo Mowlam and the rest of the NewLabour filth.
Yesterday was a sorry day. Mr Justice Slag's sentencing remarks run to about four pages and are pure Judge Jeffries' rhetoric of wickedness - Me Good, you bad. Translated, they mean, OK, I've done what my masters, the politicians and their masters wanted me to do. And I have done what the tabloids wanted me to do. Now promote me.
Other societies do not, via their courts and media, blitz and immolate themselves with rage and hatred and vengeance; the Norwegians, recently, in the face of multiple terror killings, a slaughtering of their young, behaved with great dignity and decency, we will not let the savage make us savage, they said unanimously. Mr Justice Slag, in his frock and wig, the negligent keeper of Justice's feeble flame, would laugh at them supersciliously, vengeance and hatred, he would scowl, c'est moi.
This miserable, woebegone affair has resulted in the ruination of three young lives and judicial and prosecutorial backslapping, whilst to be expected, is a bitter draft for Sense to swallow. The true authors of this horror will cruise still, in armoured limos, LearJetting contemptuously above us, laughing at the two Michaels, at the ghost of Lee Rigby and at bewildered, grieving families and children on all sides, although it is, of course, only those on the Rigby side who are damaged by all this. The black children, the black parents? Well, fuck 'em, they shoulda been white. BEE ENN PEE, Justice For Lee. Aye, right.