I don't know about anybody else but I am utterly fed-up, on behalf of Germans and Hungarians and Greeks and ourselves, of all these people just barging-in and demanding that they live here, just because they want to, just because, what is it that they pot so indignantly, I have nearly completed my degree and I want to do my master's in London, cheeky cunt. No, I do not need to register with the authorities, here, in Hungary, I need to go to London or Berlin or wherever I wanna go to, my cousin is there.
As for the tearful father of the drowned child and its bleating auntie in Canada, somebody ought to bring charges against him and her for recklessly endangering his family. Oh, but I had no option, I had to get them to London and then to Canada, because that's where I want to be. No, it doesn't matter that I had been denied asylum by the Canucks, they simply have to accept me, because that's what I want, that's my human right. And because I have the little children. Or I did have. He needs a punch in the gob, this joker, he put his family in the sea, nobody else did.
Oh, sorry, it's the people smuggalers, yes, course it is, they're to blame for people pressing thousands of shekels or whatever they use into their hands and saying Please drown me, anything is better than fighting for my country.
I watched a triumphant cohort of a thousand, marching into Germany and I couldn't fill the fingers of two hands with women and children, they were all gobby, young geezers, with Peaky Blinder haircuts and elaborately sculpted beards. There seems to be enough of these bleating, hysterical headbangers, fit young men, wily and determined, muscular and resourceful, yet screeching and throwing themselves down, all Luvvie-like, on the railway track, more than enough of them to form a fair-sized army and resist what and whoever it is which drives them North but No, having participated by default in the fuck-up of their own region they want, not just want, but demand that they come here and fuck-up mine, that they bring their whoremongering, barbaric, hostile, uncompromisingly savage religion into our blessed Consumerist New Presbyteria and spread it around, in the name of Allah, peace and blessings be upon his sexist, sadistic, homicidal head, and raise ugly buildings to him, there to corrode the land and culture which gave them refuge. Fuck me, Jesus, it's enough to make a man vote Poundland.
I watched a triumphant cohort of a thousand, marching into Germany and I couldn't fill the fingers of two hands with women and children, they were all gobby, young geezers, with Peaky Blinder haircuts and elaborately sculpted beards. There seems to be enough of these bleating, hysterical headbangers, fit young men, wily and determined, muscular and resourceful, yet screeching and throwing themselves down, all Luvvie-like, on the railway track, more than enough of them to form a fair-sized army and resist what and whoever it is which drives them North but No, having participated by default in the fuck-up of their own region they want, not just want, but demand that they come here and fuck-up mine, that they bring their whoremongering, barbaric, hostile, uncompromisingly savage religion into our blessed Consumerist New Presbyteria and spread it around, in the name of Allah, peace and blessings be upon his sexist, sadistic, homicidal head, and raise ugly buildings to him, there to corrode the land and culture which gave them refuge. Fuck me, Jesus, it's enough to make a man vote Poundland.
I am not what anyone would describe as hard-up, I am not affluent, either, as are some here, I am not even what one would comfortably call comfortable, not with Gnasher and Co. wanting to take what little we have and gi'e it tae Jock, d'ye ken, on accoont a they Clearances; my income, however, is not that of a supposedly peniless refugee and yet I cannot afford a Smart phone. I have the money for a Smart phone but I have other things to do with it; gasping, his lungs filling with salty water, Ahmed doesn't, have better things to do with his money. His Smart phone, Ahmed's, like his mad impulse to colonise Germany without let or hindrance, is his right, given him by his God, that one, the Great HeadChopper, up in Decapitating, Wife-Stoning, Child-Raping, Virgin-Filled Heaven. I don't know what an AK 47 costs where he lives but it won't be as much as he pays to Apple; if he must have a portable phone, he should buy a ten-pound Nokia, like I do, down alTesco, then steal one of those rusty Toyotas and stand in the back, firing his AK at those whom he says are driving him away, to Dusseldorf, and Tower fucking Hamlets. He should at least have a go.
It's five o'clock, now, and time for PM, with Eddie Mair,
he's like Sir Terry Wogan,
only for people not requiring radio-narcotics.
Just say No to Wogan
he's like Sir Terry Wogan,
only for people not requiring radio-narcotics.
Just say No to Wogan
As listeners will know from the relaxed warmth of my voice and the smile which you can hear but can't quite see, even though you just know it's there, I care a good deal about things, about my colleagues, about the show, which is your show really, not mine, about the stories we cover and about you, the listeners, who are what it's all about really.
And lots of you have been 'phoning and tweeting about the tragic images we've been receiving from the Mediterranean.
Gilly's on the line, now, from Leicestershire,
Gilly, you're one of our thoughtful and responsible and caring Radio Four listeners, and I bet you watch Monty Don's Earnest Gardener's World, too.
What's your take on all this?
Gilly's on the line, now, from Leicestershire,
Gilly, you're one of our thoughtful and responsible and caring Radio Four listeners, and I bet you watch Monty Don's Earnest Gardener's World, too.
What's your take on all this?
Yes, well, Eddie, good evening, and like most of your listeners, I do care a very great deal about a great many things and I am utterly disgusted at David Cameron denying all these poor people the right, to which they are jolly-well entitled, to come here and live in my conservatory, and everybody else's, and keep us company; I mean I could easily accommodate a small, young family, as long as they were nice and quiet. And grateful for me caring about them. You know, as those Jewish people were in the war, hiding in people's cellars. People cared a good deal more then, I feel.........
But what about if they weren't nice, Gilly?
What about if you woke up one morning, in leafy Lutterworth, having taken-in some refugees and found an angry, menacingly unshaven young man shouting at you, y'know, along the lines of:
'Ey, missus, did you know that yo' internet was dead slow and like it is presentin' a challenge to me contactin' me cousin, back in Syria, an' givin 'im yo' add-ress, so 'e can come 'ere and crash for a bit like, wif 'is mates, while he sorts 'imself out;
you 'as lots of room what you ain't usin', innit.
So, if you could contact yo' internet provider, like, an' get 'im to speed things up......
Wot? Yeah, course it will cost, but like charity begin at 'ome innit, an' I'm guessin' you isn't short of money, Gilly, is you, an' while I is 'ere, like, be OK, wunnit, for me an my girlfrien', like, to sleep in yo' bedroom, an' you 'ave the conservatory, only we ain't been in a proper bed for a bit, wot wif all the travellin'. An' fleein' from the persecution an' everyfin. An' I neeed to like get me leg over in some comfort, an' not on some camp bed wot I'm only gonna fall off of and hurt me leg, innit, or worse, knowharramen, Gilly? Yeah, right, I bet you went a bit y'self, when you was younger, like.
Oh, yeah, an' I nearly forgot, we don't want you eating no more bacon or nuffink, only it's like against the law. Now. In this 'ouse. You can just 'op on the bus, like, to Leicester, where there is 'undreds of proper halal butchers will keep you right.
An' is couple of other thing, yeah?
I will be needin' to 'ave yo' Volvo, like, just for a mumf or two, only I 'as gorra visit me cousins, like, up in Rovverum, an 'elp em out, like, wiv a birra business.
My girlfirend can stay 'ere, like, an' keep you company, an you can maybe buy her a new wardrobe, only from, like, Harrods, or somewhere, don't want her being dressed cheap, like a refugee, do we?
Is just one more fing, missus Gilly, an' then you can go an' make my bed. Only I 'as an uncle, an the 'Ome Office is, like, givin' the ole boy some 'assle and fretnin to frow 'im out, an' we was finkin', right, that since you is a widow woman, he would marry you, which would obviously 'elp you out, an' would also get the 'Ome Office off 'is back, an' then we could all live 'ere in this 'ouse, like, which would then be 'is, and not yours no more, an' be like one big 'appy Muslim family. You would 'ave to convert, like, to bein' a Muslim but I am finkin' that there wooden be no problem, like, wiv that, am I right......?
What about if you woke up one morning, in leafy Lutterworth, having taken-in some refugees and found an angry, menacingly unshaven young man shouting at you, y'know, along the lines of:
'Ey, missus, did you know that yo' internet was dead slow and like it is presentin' a challenge to me contactin' me cousin, back in Syria, an' givin 'im yo' add-ress, so 'e can come 'ere and crash for a bit like, wif 'is mates, while he sorts 'imself out;
you 'as lots of room what you ain't usin', innit.
So, if you could contact yo' internet provider, like, an' get 'im to speed things up......
Wot? Yeah, course it will cost, but like charity begin at 'ome innit, an' I'm guessin' you isn't short of money, Gilly, is you, an' while I is 'ere, like, be OK, wunnit, for me an my girlfrien', like, to sleep in yo' bedroom, an' you 'ave the conservatory, only we ain't been in a proper bed for a bit, wot wif all the travellin'. An' fleein' from the persecution an' everyfin. An' I neeed to like get me leg over in some comfort, an' not on some camp bed wot I'm only gonna fall off of and hurt me leg, innit, or worse, knowharramen, Gilly? Yeah, right, I bet you went a bit y'self, when you was younger, like.
Oh, yeah, an' I nearly forgot, we don't want you eating no more bacon or nuffink, only it's like against the law. Now. In this 'ouse. You can just 'op on the bus, like, to Leicester, where there is 'undreds of proper halal butchers will keep you right.
An' is couple of other thing, yeah?
I will be needin' to 'ave yo' Volvo, like, just for a mumf or two, only I 'as gorra visit me cousins, like, up in Rovverum, an 'elp em out, like, wiv a birra business.
My girlfirend can stay 'ere, like, an' keep you company, an you can maybe buy her a new wardrobe, only from, like, Harrods, or somewhere, don't want her being dressed cheap, like a refugee, do we?
Is just one more fing, missus Gilly, an' then you can go an' make my bed. Only I 'as an uncle, an the 'Ome Office is, like, givin' the ole boy some 'assle and fretnin to frow 'im out, an' we was finkin', right, that since you is a widow woman, he would marry you, which would obviously 'elp you out, an' would also get the 'Ome Office off 'is back, an' then we could all live 'ere in this 'ouse, like, which would then be 'is, and not yours no more, an' be like one big 'appy Muslim family. You would 'ave to convert, like, to bein' a Muslim but I am finkin' that there wooden be no problem, like, wiv that, am I right......?
Gilly? You still there? Gilly?
Seems as though we've lost the line to Gilly.
But we do have David Cameron on the line.
Prime minister, you've been shamed by that photograph,
haven't you.
Seems as though we've lost the line to Gilly.
But we do have David Cameron on the line.
Prime minister, you've been shamed by that photograph,
haven't you.
Well, good evening Eddie,
and lessbeclearaboutthis,
shame is an alien concept to me,
I simply don't do it, so you won't catch me with that one.
Y'know, how Tony Blair didn't Do God, even though they were colleagues, he and the Almighty,
well, I Don't Do Shame.
But look,
anIwannabeabsolutelyclearonthis,
like most prime ministers, well, like Mr Snot, anyway, I, too, have a dead child, so I know exactly what this boy's parents....sorry, the mother drowned, too.?.......yes, yes, they are uppermost in my fawts'n'prayers.....and the brother?......but his father is still here and I know just exactly what he's going through,
patickuly at this time.
and lessbeclearaboutthis,
shame is an alien concept to me,
I simply don't do it, so you won't catch me with that one.
Y'know, how Tony Blair didn't Do God, even though they were colleagues, he and the Almighty,
well, I Don't Do Shame.
But look,
anIwannabeabsolutelyclearonthis,
like most prime ministers, well, like Mr Snot, anyway, I, too, have a dead child, so I know exactly what this boy's parents....sorry, the mother drowned, too.?.......yes, yes, they are uppermost in my fawts'n'prayers.....and the brother?......but his father is still here and I know just exactly what he's going through,
patickuly at this time.
He'll be saying, as we all do, Mr Snot and I, that because of my dead child, the NHS is entirely safe in my hands and there is no way that I would sell it off cheap to Mr Lansley's friends, no way I would impose a top-down bargain basement sale, I mean reorganisation, 'course I do, top-down reorganisation, even though I am.
No, I do feel I have a special kinship with that economic migrant who lost his son.
The one washed-up on the shore, yes, that one, and quite wrongly, in my judgement, photographed and seen all over the fucking place.
Yes, I do know how his father feels.
But I'm here legally.
No, I do feel I have a special kinship with that economic migrant who lost his son.
The one washed-up on the shore, yes, that one, and quite wrongly, in my judgement, photographed and seen all over the fucking place.
Yes, I do know how his father feels.
But I'm here legally.
But look, Eddie, listeners will wanna know what we are doing about the people smuggalers, who, in my judgement and in the judgement of the parliament which I have the honour to lead, are the real villains here.
Bukkake Boy.
Squeak-squeak-squeak......so what we're gonna do is.....
squeak-squeak-squeak............crack-down.........squeak-squeak-squeak....on criminal people-smuggalers..........
squeak-squeak-squeak....who are the real cause of the problem....squeak-squeak-squeak.....and stick to our long-term economic plan. Squeak.
Dancing Queen.
As home seckaterry, I will be introducing anti-people-smuggaling legislation without delay.
Yes, like the Dangerous Dogs Act.
Yes, and the War on Drugs.
The Amazing Warty Lady.
You do know, sonny, don't you, that none of this is the fault of politicians, but is down to those wicked people smuggalers? Actually, you know, politicians, whoever they are, have only come into politics to help other people.
That's right, Justine,
we all care more about other people than we do about ourselves.
And so, Eddie, as long as we keep reminding people of this, this curse of the people smuggalers, everything will be alright.
But, no, I did say that we wouldn't be taking any more refugees than we already have and that remains not to be the case. We will be taking many more refugees. But not really. You see, it's all a question of where you take them from, if you take them from camps it's different, it's like not really taking them at all, see?
But, prime minister, isn't that a contradiction in terms? You will but you won't but you will? Listeners will be confused. As, I am sure, will be Mr Sid Poundland, leader of the Poundland No-More-Wogs Party. Who is in our radio car, now.
Well, yes, Eddie, and it's good to be back, although technically I'm still on a well-deserved pimp-holiday after our success in the General Election but no, the nig-nogs, swarming, as for once the prime minister rightly says, swarming over my beloved Europe, destroying our European culture, it's just what I've said all along, we have to stand together with our European brethren against this Islamic invasion. So there. A European army and a European police force and border patrol, that's Poundland policy. I shall put it to party conference and I think you will find, quite frankly, what with us being a throroughly democratic set-up that they'll do what I tell 'em. I'm the boss, after all. God Save Europe!
(sings)
Freude schöner Götterfunken
Tochter aus Elysium,
Wir betreten feuertrunken,
Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!
Deine Zauber binden wieder
Was die Mode streng geteilt;
Alle Menschen werden Brüder,
Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt.
That was Sid Poundland, there, singing from Schiller's Ode to Joy, the themesong, as it were, of the European Union. To which we all, here, at the PBC, are committed.
But the Wichita LineMan is still on the line, I mean the prime minsister. Mr Cameron, how do you respond to the charge that yours is a mixed message.
Well, Eddie, that is because they can't see the bigger picture, which is why they elected me, because I can't see it either.
But I can sort of fine-tune things for them.
Yes, and I suppose because they hate that little Scotch rodent-woman, too, Mrs Gnasher, that's why I was elected, and quite frankly, Eddie, who can blame them?
I mean, did you see her, up in the Scotch Parish Council, up there, banging her shoe on the desk, she was, like Mr Kruschev, telling me how to run the country. Saying that she would only settle for us taking ten million of the bastards or else she'd declare UDI?
First Minister,
Mrs Nikita Gnasher
delivering SNP immigration policy.
But no, I am sure that this is simply a matter of people having got hold of the wrong end of the stick. I mean, your caller from Lutterworth, if she stopped and thought about what she's suggesting, an open door to millions of people and an open-ended commitment to putting them up in her home, well, quite frankly, Eddie, where would that end? I'll tell you where it would end, it would end with us shooting more millions, on the beaches and on the landing grounds, as they over-ran Western Europe, threatening the collapse of civic, religious and economic society as we know them. And all because of some elderly lady with her head up her arse, caring. Yes, and Archbishop Dallas, him too, wittering away about our moral duty, can't see him throwing wide the doors of Lambeth Palace to a bunch of fucking sabre-wielding Muslim devils, can you? And that is why I am happy to welcome back to Downing Street, although she has never been away, my good friend and neighbour,
Lady Rebekka Witch, who has done nothing wrong but even so I am prepared to give her a second chance, Yes, as I did with her boyfriend, Mr Coulson, the Jailbird,
whom I have never met and who has never set foot in Downing Street.
Mrs Brooks, with the help of all of us in Chipping Sodom, will soon have the nation thinking properly about this dreadful business, whatever it is. I mean, her captioning of the photograph would have probly been much more helpful, something like Gotcha! TerrorBaby Plot Foiled.
That's how she is, really concerned about children. Wouldn't dream of hacking their phones. Not personally anyway.
And, I shouldn't wonder, Eddie, she'll probly soon be running the BBC.
If only HamFace had stuck to his guns and continued to say No; instead, like all of them, he was blown off-course by a headline and a 'photo cynically deployed to fuel the empty-headed sentiment of millions of Gillys from Loughborough, beating their breasts in a frenzy of something-must-be-doneism.
Something must indeed be done, it's just that this ain't it; this, as the night follows the day, will lead to Fortress Europe as tens of millions of people, more desperate than the crowd besieging Hungary - which, if it was really the fusilades of War which it fled, cannon, shrapnel, bayonet and mustard gas, would gratefully accept food and shelter and refuge in a safe camp established for that purpose by the first country they came to; instead, refugees consumeriste, they demand an unfettered journey to and residence in the city and country of their choice - millions of people facing not only martial depotism but famine, too and plague, people genuinely running ahead of the Four Horsemen, will, following this example, having glimpsed some fat, stupid, guilty-conscience Herman buying clothes and food and bicycles for his migrant guests, fling themselves, too, aboard matchwood or rubber boats, careless that some will drown, hopeful that they will reach a promised land glimpsed on their SmartPhones, but facing successive mined and fortified drawbridges necessarily drawn-up against them.
Things are so stupidly bad, presently, that one expects the media resurrection of Sir Bob Geldof,
Lord of Goodness,
only not to his family, obviously.
Maybe Bob and his mates could put something together.
OK, Bob, but I haven't sung in public for a while, although I do consider myself God's musical instrument of Peace,
ah-one-two-three:
Save the whale,
Save the trees,
Knit some blankets for the refugees,
Why don't we Feed The World,
Some more Bob Geldof LPs?
Y'know the White Man's Burden
Gonna bring me to my knees.....
Them folks, them so-called migrants,
they's bad folks, we need to get them down there in Gitmo, waterboard their nigger asses...
You're so quintessentially and profoundly and iconoclastically right, George Dubya,
how about me and Saint Boneo, here,
how about we write a song about it?
And the proceeds could go to the IMF,
like last time.
Maybe Dr Brian Badger
of Queen fame will take his half-band on tour to raise money (from others, he gives his time, don't forget) for the badgers or the migrants. Or whatever.
Status Quo,
are they still alive?
..........here we go-oh, migratin' all over the world.
Fab Macca?
Like, if he were to sing Hey Jude to them, and they all joined-in, the refugees'd just, I dunno, feel so much better about themselves. Cos, y'know, All You Need Is Love. It's really true.
If ever we needed our stars, now is the time.
But back here, on PM, the caring news magazine show, for caring listeners, the big question is how and why Uncle Sam has managed to wriggle out of any responsibility for this clusterfuck of mad invasions and occupations, most of which have been instigated by him. The US has, in the form of its Sixth Fleet, the mightiest concentration of military power in history, which could either resolve these conflicts or expedite the safe evacuation of those fleeing them; she also has vast unpopulated tracts of lands which could accommodate many refugees. Our Washington correspondent, Jon Sopel, has been putting these questions to President Obama. Here's what he said.
Jon, through the PBC, I would like to address our many friends, back there, in Limeyland.
My fellow Limey motherfuckers.
Amerka is a great nation.
The Amerkan people are a great people.
And we stand beside you at this time, like we always do.
The Amerkan people have always welcomed the refugee and the persecuted, the fearful and the friendless.
But fuck all that shit.
These folks is niggers
More or less.
And Black Lives, like President Hillary says, Don't Matter.
And they worship a DevilGod.
These people struck at the very heart of Amerka.
And they eat fuckin' goats.
With their Goddamn fingers.
And all the babies got handgrenades in their fucking diapers.
And all them nigger bitches got moustaches.
And I would just remind people, Jon, of what the words on the statue of White Anglo Saxon Protestant Liberty really say:
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
NotMother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide unwelcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Don't give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Don't send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I extinguish my lamp beside the golden door!"
God bless Amerka, Jon,
and God bless the decent white people of Limeyland in their hour of need.
------------------------------
We must pity the poor immigrant for one way or another we are all such but we cannot absorb him by the million, not unless we abandon the idea of the nation state, of a Judaeo-Christian cultural and political identity and system of jurisprudence, of a viable welfare state and a relatively cohesive system of education and iof lawnforcement, not unless we fling our all into a sudden, unwonted melting-pot in which the strident, the punitive and the savage will temper our now largely liberal civilisation with fanatical cruelty.
There is something ruinous about this outpouring of hysterical compassion without reason, something which, unless it is sharply arrested will bring unimaginable harm to both pushy designer-migrant and careless host, we needs must extinguish the BushBlair fires in the Middle East, Southern Asia and North Africa, not, well-meaning, fan them into life in Europe.
Squeak-squeak-squeak......so what we're gonna do is.....
squeak-squeak-squeak............crack-down.........squeak-squeak-squeak....on criminal people-smuggalers..........
squeak-squeak-squeak....who are the real cause of the problem....squeak-squeak-squeak.....and stick to our long-term economic plan. Squeak.
As home seckaterry, I will be introducing anti-people-smuggaling legislation without delay.
Yes, like the Dangerous Dogs Act.
Yes, and the War on Drugs.
You do know, sonny, don't you, that none of this is the fault of politicians, but is down to those wicked people smuggalers? Actually, you know, politicians, whoever they are, have only come into politics to help other people.
we all care more about other people than we do about ourselves.
Although caring is like equality,
some of us are a bit more caring than others.
Not that I would stoop to criticising these other cunts.
And so, Eddie, as long as we keep reminding people of this, this curse of the people smuggalers, everything will be alright.
But, no, I did say that we wouldn't be taking any more refugees than we already have and that remains not to be the case. We will be taking many more refugees. But not really. You see, it's all a question of where you take them from, if you take them from camps it's different, it's like not really taking them at all, see?
But, prime minister, isn't that a contradiction in terms? You will but you won't but you will? Listeners will be confused. As, I am sure, will be Mr Sid Poundland, leader of the Poundland No-More-Wogs Party. Who is in our radio car, now.
(sings)
Freude schöner Götterfunken
Tochter aus Elysium,
Wir betreten feuertrunken,
Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!
Deine Zauber binden wieder
Was die Mode streng geteilt;
Alle Menschen werden Brüder,
Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt.
That was Sid Poundland, there, singing from Schiller's Ode to Joy, the themesong, as it were, of the European Union. To which we all, here, at the PBC, are committed.
But the Wichita LineMan is still on the line, I mean the prime minsister. Mr Cameron, how do you respond to the charge that yours is a mixed message.
Well, Eddie, that is because they can't see the bigger picture, which is why they elected me, because I can't see it either.
But I can sort of fine-tune things for them.
Yes, and I suppose because they hate that little Scotch rodent-woman, too, Mrs Gnasher, that's why I was elected, and quite frankly, Eddie, who can blame them?
I mean, did you see her, up in the Scotch Parish Council, up there, banging her shoe on the desk, she was, like Mr Kruschev, telling me how to run the country. Saying that she would only settle for us taking ten million of the bastards or else she'd declare UDI?
Mrs Nikita Gnasher
delivering SNP immigration policy.
But no, I am sure that this is simply a matter of people having got hold of the wrong end of the stick. I mean, your caller from Lutterworth, if she stopped and thought about what she's suggesting, an open door to millions of people and an open-ended commitment to putting them up in her home, well, quite frankly, Eddie, where would that end? I'll tell you where it would end, it would end with us shooting more millions, on the beaches and on the landing grounds, as they over-ran Western Europe, threatening the collapse of civic, religious and economic society as we know them. And all because of some elderly lady with her head up her arse, caring. Yes, and Archbishop Dallas, him too, wittering away about our moral duty, can't see him throwing wide the doors of Lambeth Palace to a bunch of fucking sabre-wielding Muslim devils, can you? And that is why I am happy to welcome back to Downing Street, although she has never been away, my good friend and neighbour,
whom I have never met and who has never set foot in Downing Street.
Mrs Brooks, with the help of all of us in Chipping Sodom, will soon have the nation thinking properly about this dreadful business, whatever it is. I mean, her captioning of the photograph would have probly been much more helpful, something like Gotcha! TerrorBaby Plot Foiled.
That's how she is, really concerned about children. Wouldn't dream of hacking their phones. Not personally anyway.
And, I shouldn't wonder, Eddie, she'll probly soon be running the BBC.
If only HamFace had stuck to his guns and continued to say No; instead, like all of them, he was blown off-course by a headline and a 'photo cynically deployed to fuel the empty-headed sentiment of millions of Gillys from Loughborough, beating their breasts in a frenzy of something-must-be-doneism.
Something must indeed be done, it's just that this ain't it; this, as the night follows the day, will lead to Fortress Europe as tens of millions of people, more desperate than the crowd besieging Hungary - which, if it was really the fusilades of War which it fled, cannon, shrapnel, bayonet and mustard gas, would gratefully accept food and shelter and refuge in a safe camp established for that purpose by the first country they came to; instead, refugees consumeriste, they demand an unfettered journey to and residence in the city and country of their choice - millions of people facing not only martial depotism but famine, too and plague, people genuinely running ahead of the Four Horsemen, will, following this example, having glimpsed some fat, stupid, guilty-conscience Herman buying clothes and food and bicycles for his migrant guests, fling themselves, too, aboard matchwood or rubber boats, careless that some will drown, hopeful that they will reach a promised land glimpsed on their SmartPhones, but facing successive mined and fortified drawbridges necessarily drawn-up against them.
Things are so stupidly bad, presently, that one expects the media resurrection of Sir Bob Geldof,
Lord of Goodness,
only not to his family, obviously.
Maybe Bob and his mates could put something together.
ah-one-two-three:
Save the whale,
Save the trees,
Knit some blankets for the refugees,
Why don't we Feed The World,
Some more Bob Geldof LPs?
Y'know the White Man's Burden
Gonna bring me to my knees.....
they's bad folks, we need to get them down there in Gitmo, waterboard their nigger asses...
You're so quintessentially and profoundly and iconoclastically right, George Dubya,
how about me and Saint Boneo, here,
how about we write a song about it?
And the proceeds could go to the IMF,
like last time.
Maybe Dr Brian Badger
of Queen fame will take his half-band on tour to raise money (from others, he gives his time, don't forget) for the badgers or the migrants. Or whatever.
Status Quo,
are they still alive?
..........here we go-oh, migratin' all over the world.
Fab Macca?
Like, if he were to sing Hey Jude to them, and they all joined-in, the refugees'd just, I dunno, feel so much better about themselves. Cos, y'know, All You Need Is Love. It's really true.
If ever we needed our stars, now is the time.
But back here, on PM, the caring news magazine show, for caring listeners, the big question is how and why Uncle Sam has managed to wriggle out of any responsibility for this clusterfuck of mad invasions and occupations, most of which have been instigated by him. The US has, in the form of its Sixth Fleet, the mightiest concentration of military power in history, which could either resolve these conflicts or expedite the safe evacuation of those fleeing them; she also has vast unpopulated tracts of lands which could accommodate many refugees. Our Washington correspondent, Jon Sopel, has been putting these questions to President Obama. Here's what he said.
Jon, through the PBC, I would like to address our many friends, back there, in Limeyland.
My fellow Limey motherfuckers.
Amerka is a great nation.
The Amerkan people are a great people.
And we stand beside you at this time, like we always do.
The Amerkan people have always welcomed the refugee and the persecuted, the fearful and the friendless.
But fuck all that shit.
These folks is niggers
More or less.
And Black Lives, like President Hillary says, Don't Matter.
And they worship a DevilGod.
These people struck at the very heart of Amerka.
And they eat fuckin' goats.
With their Goddamn fingers.
And all the babies got handgrenades in their fucking diapers.
And all them nigger bitches got moustaches.
And I would just remind people, Jon, of what the words on the statue of White Anglo Saxon Protestant Liberty really say:
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
NotMother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide unwelcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Don't give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Don't send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I extinguish my lamp beside the golden door!"
God bless Amerka, Jon,
and God bless the decent white people of Limeyland in their hour of need.
------------------------------
We must pity the poor immigrant for one way or another we are all such but we cannot absorb him by the million, not unless we abandon the idea of the nation state, of a Judaeo-Christian cultural and political identity and system of jurisprudence, of a viable welfare state and a relatively cohesive system of education and iof lawnforcement, not unless we fling our all into a sudden, unwonted melting-pot in which the strident, the punitive and the savage will temper our now largely liberal civilisation with fanatical cruelty.
There is something ruinous about this outpouring of hysterical compassion without reason, something which, unless it is sharply arrested will bring unimaginable harm to both pushy designer-migrant and careless host, we needs must extinguish the BushBlair fires in the Middle East, Southern Asia and North Africa, not, well-meaning, fan them into life in Europe.
71 comments:
I suspect we have not really found out why this flood has been organised. I suspect the ISIS Imams are not ready to reveal all yet.
Certainly an unseemly number of super-fit, determined young mem, m alphons, considering their supposed travails.
The owl of Minerva spreads its wings only when our dawns are become dusk.
Mr Ish I think the germans will in an act of revenge for the second world war document all these migrants and then they will arrive on our doorstep,I also believe that some east european countries have thinned their prison populations and sent them over here,I also think that country formerly known as palestine is fomenting trouble in the middle east, so that they can land grab, aided and abetted by uncle sam As for scottish politicians theyre just posturing,How can anybody be taken in by all this shite!
The invaders are very organise aren’t they? And none too worse for wear. It must be a 2000 mile journey….on foot?..On one pair of shoes? And only a 5 o’clock shadow.
And how the fuck did they walk through half a dozen borders? Where did the boats come from. Did they just buy them from the man on the beach? The whole thing stinks of fish.
Methinks this is a side-door entrance Syrayah. Eyerack and libayah are fucked beyond repair and there doesn’t seem to be mention of designer immigrants coming from there.
Please help us mighty European govament (with the help of 'merica.) and stop the them coming. Get some troops into Syria.
I have travelled in the last few months probably a distance somewhat further than many of the migrants. I can tell you that me and the missus are knackered and need another holiday to recover; its cost a small fortune; it took months of research & planning; we have used every form of transport known to man; it would have been much more difficult if we were not carrying 2 passports and have dual nationality.
If we had demonstrated in, say, Venice that we had a right to jump the queue into the Doge's palace then it wouldn't have gone down well with the locals.
So how Ahmed and his mates progress so seemingly effortlessly on their Grand Tour of Europe is, well, miraculous.
BTW on a train from La Spezia to Florance, at a stop at Viareggio, the train was crowd-surged by blacks carrying their goods and chattels in improvised blanket-bags. The women were the most agressive, all fat, with various gold earing and necklaces adorning their fat limbs. The white people (Germans, French, Italians) were intimidated out of our seats. One fat black pointed agressively at my wife, and to calm the situation I asked my wife if she wanted me to punch her. It seemed the black understood some English as she then left us alone. When the train next stopped at Pisa they all decamped as fast as they arrived; Italian riot police were present with dogs, but just stood and watched as the blacks ran from the station to god knows where. Clearly they were following a plan.
Good to hear of the train journey to Hell. Miraculous is one word for it, mr mike, an army and its followers TrojanHorseing its way into the citadel, cheered-on by delusional sisters of mercy, half-wits and nincompoops, its path strewn with Euros, its cheek kissed, its hand grasped and nary a word of enquiry tendered. Haste ye and mrs mike home, Europe is becoma a tinderbox. I wonder what the Horst Wessellers'll do, in the face of all this, the Frecnh Right and the whatever we are calling the National Fronters, these days, EDL, is it? They won't like this one little bit.
MR ish were all going to Halal in a handcart!
Among the saddest of anecdotes is that a number of countries over there on the east have sent people to Israel to learn how better to build some stout wire fences. Telling the keeping-out from the keeping-in is getting difficult.
How long do we have to wait to see our PM debase himself and "fall in line" showing his real aim.
The Philosophy of Right, thank you, mr tdg, will accompany me into the Tank of Healing, tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorroe, even though it looks like a fearful circuitry.
Careful, mr mongoose, lest you transgress; any such observation not including Plucky Little Israel, Only Democracy In The Region, leaves you open to the charge of anti-semitism, whatever that is at any given point.
The five o clock shadow, mr doug, is style statement, rather than the sign of a busy man, at the end of his working day, like my dad used to have; good that today's refugee manages to prioritise his personal grooming. I wonder if there ia a charity through which I could send him not designer clothes or cash or i-things but a swift punch in the gob.
You, too, mr walter, tread carefully, Bibi Netanyahu does no wrong, time he had a peace prize, all the other cunts get one. Perhaps Frau Lard will be awarded one for this fuck-up, and for her services to Greece.
Mr I: I'm in Dubrovnik at present. Its history tells a powerful tale, most recently in the "War of the Homeland" in 1991 when the Croats defeated the Serbs and Montenegrians (have to be careful here as I'm off to Montenegro tomorrow, and may need to change sides).
The old city with its majestic walls and its Napoleon-era fort standing above the city on an impressive mountain bear the scars of that recent conflict.
I think I've mentioned before the likeable traits of the Croats - 7 feet tall, nationalistic, war-like; and they are 90%+ catholic. Sadly they won their freedom, only to proptly apply for EU membership.
WTF will happen when they are 'accepted' into the warm embrace of the EU, is anyone's guess, but I will be following it with interest. A less likely people to accept unfettered enrichment I cannot imagine.
Well, mr mike, one would have thought the Brits at least as unlikely to accept the autocratic blandishments of Grocer Heath and his successors as you estimate the Croations to be but failing a calamity I would guess that HamFace will win his referendum. I have been reading about the road to Hadrian's Wall and how British king, Caratacus, and other obstinates were subdued by force, pour encourager les sauvages autres, who duly prospered upon the creation of three million jobs, cross-border arrest warrants and co-operation on climate change. I think a majority of people are sluts who will always submit to the first empire which happens along. It was only ourselves resisted Adolf and his imperial legions, and that was a close-run thing, many of our own elite being quite keen to suck on his flammenwerfen.
Seems like a military historian's trip you have been on, saving the North East of England; God bless mrs mike for her patience, that's what I say.
If the NATO arseholes were worth 24 years of salary following the collapse of the USSR they would have rounded up these fit young men of whom you rightly say there are many and say, never mind your fucking Smartphone, here`s an AK47, courtesy of Bad Vlad, establish training camps in the Anatolian hinterland and form an Army of Liberation. Not interested ? We`ll truck you back to the frontier.
After all, they should have a direct interest in the outcome, re building this ancient civilization when the bandits and goat rapers are gone. Or do they just want to line their pockets fixing Fat Herman`s BMW ? We confine our efforts to showing Ahmed which end the AK47 the bullet comes out of; don`t want to send in our ground forces, after Iraq and A/stan probably not up to the job although the RAF sent three little goat botherers to Shaitan`s fiery embrace recently.
Mediaminster ignores what the migrants Muslim brothers are doing to help them in the Middle East. Turkey, our supposed NATO ally and which some want in the E fucking U is channelling migrants and their landscaped beards, Smartphones and designer sunglasses towards Europe while letting any wannabe bandit and child rapist cross the border to join Nonceslamic State. Saudi and the Gulf states haven't apparently taken in a single refugee, give half the aid the UK does and no doubt are stoking the fires in their proxy war with Iran. The fat cretin King Salman is apparently in Washington, no doubt to demand more support from Spock, terrified that his own headchopping clergy will topple him and incorporate Saudi into Nonceslamic State( not much difference).
Plucky Little Israel could crush the bandit nonces like insects: you`ll note that that Nonceslamic State wage war only against their Islamic Brothers and the few remaining Christians there, they know Benjamin will smite them mightily if they even fart in the direction of the Promised Land.
Just saw on the PBBC 24hour news Ham Face promising to take in 20 000. Only not in Chipping Snobbham. Harpic criticised him but then how many is she having to lodge at her no doubt extensive mansion ? Various other filthsters were gathered outside on St Stephen`s Green holding little cards saying Save the Refugees: most of the rotten fucking bastards have at least a couple of homes we`ve paid for: room for a few Ahmeds and their Smartphones.
Mr I: You are quite correct with your analysis. I was 10 minutes ago sitting in a bar in an historic square of Dubrovnik with a friend from Spain reflecting.....The peolple who built the old city of Dubrovnik did so to repel invaders. Now the place is full with tonights invaders, welcome with open arms to buy tourist shit attracted by the beauty of the city's history, architecture, defensive walls etc..Tonight they are all chinks, the flavour de jour from the passing tour boats; they take their photos and have drinks but don't have a flying fuck idea of the history of the place, or how it shaped the world. Its not just the chinks, its the whole new arriviste. I give up. In fact, I want to blow the whole fucking place up, I'm so angry.
Its not just Dubrovnik, its the whole fucking world.
I'm actually looking forward to getting back to Bangkok and SE Asia, and Australia. The West is a blot on the landscape; some good but overall a failure.
" Blogger call me ishmael said...
Seems like a military historian's trip you have been on, saving the North East of England; God bless mrs mike for her patience, that's what I say."
I think perhaps Mr Mike should be given a medal. Here in Yorkshire he would be awarded a "Leather Medal with a Tripe Centre". Much favoured by those over the great divide as a preferable alternative to their stew 'an 'ard.
As long as mrs mike gets one, too.
I think that's what mr tdg is saying, mr mike; worth a google five minutes, Minerva's Owl.
As to the tourists, I have come to loathe them, even when it's me. Travelling is one thing, gawping is another. I always like to go overland or by sea, travelling. Just arriving somewhere, without having travelled through anywhere else, seems like a step into insanity's ante-room.
I remember driving to Canterbury cathedral and being bitterly disappointed because it was overrun with oriental people, I mean overrun, all clicking their cameras, like they gave a fuck about Thomas a Becket, gibbering little bastards.
Lord Moser died the other day. Immigrant, fucking strange bastard from a Godforsaken land, forever prattling on about culture, statistics and frigging pianos. Good for fuck all? Except that his Jewish-German family had to up sticks in the Thirties to flee from You-know-who. Or they would have well and truly been assimilated. By gas and fire. That relatively well-off people - well, well-off enough to have a smartphone or a piano - must still flee from persecution should be something we can understand by now. That they flee from perhaps Berlin via somewhere and end up somewhere else is what happens. The whole business turns into a shit-fest of panic and theft and exploitation. They flee from the sphere of influence of the fuckers who want to kill them - or at least do not care if they live or die - and they travel on from wherever that NOT-place is to somewhere they think they might be able to make a life, or a temporary life. Many tens of thousands of the European Jews toured the wide world before finding what now passes for peace in Israel. How many jumps and moves was that? How many graves and family left behind? Some of us, Mr Ishmael, are fucking migrants. Fleeing from or to? It is harder every day to say, is it not?
This is an Islamic civil war of sorts. But it's just another Johnny-Raghead-come-lately version of what the rest of the Judaeo-Christian tribes and cliques have been doing for a couple of thousand years now. These new poor bastards are our brothers under the bullshit. The more I see of it, the more I am sure that organised religion should be banned. Organised religious schooling should be banned. Requirements and customs of religious dress should not be respected. Indeed religions should not be respected one over another, or indeed at all. Perhaps the first thing we should do, let's kill all the priests. All of them. God will know his own.
As you say, mr yardarm, the moral compass which might help one navigate through all this could not exist; what's good is bad, what's bad is good, you find out when you reach the top you're on the bottom; it is a wilderness of mirrors, a place where nothing is as it seems, every apparent certainty subject to inversion by succeeding pragmatisms. We should depose the House of Saud, and redistribute its fortune, we should enforce nuclear inspection on Israel, we should jail the Egyptian generals, put all the African despots in jail; we should confiscate all funds held by Blair and Clinton and the rest, we should charge Rupert Murdoch with offences against public decency. Where would you start, trying to make the world a better place? I think all we can do is support, for all his faults, Mr Corbyn in the hope that he rattles the cages of the Godless, although I do believe, as do others here, that our flush is busted, our game not worth the candle, our wager against Ruin lost
Thanks for your kind thoughts but I already said that we are all immigrant, mr mongoose, just that we cannot absorb tens of millions, and we cannot, not without even worse shit kicking off here than whatever it is that they flee. And at what point do we say, ok, guys, we really are full, now? The Holocaustal comparison is a bit dodgy on several fronts, I feel. This tide of humanity is not one faith, against which one state is practicing industrial scale genocide, these are Kosovans, Africans, Afghanis, Syrians and fuck knows who else, there is no unifying persecution, here, these are not European Jews with a sprinkling of gypsies and homosexuals and trades unionists; many are fervent members of a faith whose clerics you would see slain, not thoughtful rabbis, chanting their mad, ancient scriptures and banging their heads against the walls, many of these imams are fucking monsters. And as for finding a home in Israel, that was only achieved by throwing other people out of their homes and sub-humanizing them, that's Abrahamism for you, mad Jews, mad Muslims, either or both would see us all go up in smoke if it suited the purpose of their own prophets, their own insanity. And which country should your New Jewry steal for itself, Ireland, maybe; all these migrant surgeons and physicists and ontraprenewers, they could soon civilize those lazy bogtrotters, make the land blossom, after those backward morons let everything go to fuck I do not accept that they are my brothers, this lot, under the skin, but I know you are. And so well do I know that that I could have, as you know, written the same compassionate comment.
But this is not the nineteen thirties, this is not the Holocaust, we do not have docile, obedient populations in Europe, which will do as they are told by evidently corrupt career politicians, grandstanding that we are all united by our humanity. There is an intoxication momentarily, people are pissed on the milk of human kindness but they will sober up very quickly when they see their schools and hospitals, their social service departments, yes and their courts overwhelmed to the point of failure and collapse. I heard one dunderhead, a member of the UN elite, tonight, praise singing a German village of thirty thousand souls for having taken in twenty thousand refugees; how the fuck long is that gonna last?
There is a program called Google Earth. It is instructive to swoosh it around to where you live and plonk that in the middle of the picture. It then shows where you live in a half-the-globe frame of reference. It is interesting to stick Africa or Oz or California in the middle. But if you centre on dear old Blighty, you begin to understand that we are way up in the fucking North and there is nothing to the West for a very long time that is any use to anyone. (Also how Britain controlled the western seas but that is old news.) So a Syrian would have to be very determined to make a life in Brighton, let alone Orkney. This is the fag end of the silly season in the fag end of NW Europe. And if we are wasting teenagers using half-million-pound rockets, we can surely afford a few council houses for the intrepid few refugees who do trudge this far to the wilderness. And they won't. Not even a fraction of that 20,000. All forgotten here by Christmas.
Yes, I get the immigrant business, Mr I, but you and I both ARE. That's right now fleeing-from-Ireland migrants. Your lot should be back up the Shankhill sorting out your butchers and mine should be likewise up the Falls confiscating Black & Deckers. But they aren't. They fled for one reason or another and left the shit-hole to someone else to sort out. And so it is in Syria now.
That a man is a fool who takes his wife and little kids onto a leaky boat - having handed over whatever portable wealth he has to a parasite cunt - is just an everyday, everyman tragedy. That he should be horsewhipped as well as pitied is true. But the wife and kids are still dead, aren't they? What sort of situation does a body have to be in that such stupidity seems an option? Multiply it by tens of thousands as life's relatives, customers and friends are all lifted up into a flight-from-Egypt biblical epic and you have the capacity for endless disaster. The action is taking place around the Mediterranean - as it always has. There are a few hundred thousand poor people to die quietly yet before the footie takes over the news pages, and St Jeremy ascends to his pulpit.
You are a caution, mr mongoose. I will repair to my luncheon, recover from my pressurization and consider things.
Man U wasting so much of our footie shirt money in the transfer market, eh? Keeps me a-fucking-wake at night, so it does.
Several years ago there was a programme on't telly. about the Torah. This is the foundation of the Jewish religion, and the base of all modern religions.
According to the collection of Jewish professors, from the Jewish University somewhere in the Holy Land, most, if not all, the stories in the Torah are myths dreamed up on the instruction of Jonas, the first King of Isreal. This was a means of subjugating both halves of his newly formed fiefdom.
The rules laid out in it were nothing more than a list of good sound rules for good sound living in harmony with others. However he had to have some source for these rules, so a God was invented (and a Moses as a messenger along with a load of stone tablets (to give the messenger a hernia).
These professors proved that Jericho never had any walls, Babel had no Tower, King David existed but was "Boss ower nowt".
They also examined Egyptian records and found no trace of Moses. He was supposedly so important to the Egyptians that it was unbelievable that he and all the Hebrew slaves could just disappear without record, and wander about for 40 days and nights on a journey that could be done on a donkey in a matter of hours. Etc. Etc.
Ever since the time of Jonas the myths of the Torah have been clung to in various guises by all "Kings and Rulers, Politicians and councillors, of any title, to control their "subjects", ably supported by priest, vicars, imams,bishops etc. on a basis of "you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours"
So...I am left wondering who it is that is pulling the strings of the lunatics who are causing all this immigration, and more importantly "why?".
Now, those are good questions. And another one is why has ISIL not been incinerated? The answer to the second is that it is not in the interests of those who could incinerate it to so do. Which means that all of this palaver is worth the trouble to somebody. And if a drone strike would likely be called in by "local assets" to target it on a few teenagers, why did not the assets not just do away with them in the first place and save us all this drama and expense?
Mr Mongoose: it has been British and American policy since WW2 (and earlier) not to solve the problems of the Middle East, but to fuck it up by destabilisation, setting one group against another and providing the arms to facilitate it. The overthrow of the Shah of Iran by Britain/America after Iran had the temerity to nationalise its own oil assets (then controlled by Britain) set in motion the train wreck of today. My Iranian friend from Spain, who was there at the time, was telling me only today that the demonstrations against the Shah were directed by BBC world service (where to meet and demonstration times etc).
The answer to your and Mr Alphons' questions is 'cui bono'? Look no further than Israel and its supporters in the US, and their offspring conglomerations, closely followed by the willing puppets in the UK etc.
Mr Mike. I have read your despatches with interest. Upon your return to the blessed land of Oz, I recommend that you acquire a copy of Noel Malcolm's 'Agents of Empire' (he is a proper historian and scholar). I'm just making my way through it. It follows members of a Venetian - Albanian family in the late sixteenth century through various diplomatic intrigues, battles and commercial endeavours of questionable provenance. All meticulously researched and presented and set in and around the time of the Battle of Lepanto...
Excellent piece and response thread BTW, Mr I. I will review again but am not sure I can add much to the contributions already made...
I think I mentioned the Sixth Fleet, somewhere, didn't I; created to annihilate advanced nations, yet resolutely unable to scorch a few lunatics.
As the father of young, mr mongoose, you cannot but strike a posture rooted in Christian ethics, compassion and fraternalism; it is entirely proper that you do so and I would expect nothing else from you than a liberal moral certainty; that I disagree with your analysis and your remedy is also entirely proper for it is only by the refining fire of argument that enthusiasm is tempered into the certainty of Reason, a quality slippery and elusive at best but better sought-after than the ghastly sentimentality of the current hysterical discourse; God help me, I watch them, now, with the sound turned-down, the earnest, patiently didactic charity biddies who have been On The Ground Out There and are all studio-bound, telling us what we simply must do; the bishops and arsebishops, ceasing from their endless child molestation to preach on the subject of geopolitics, to peddle their simpering, all-inclusive version of GodKnowsBest Motherfuckerism, cheeky fucking degenerate parasites and just now there's Krishnan, fresh from his smutty panel shows, emoting all over the JonSoxNews on C4, pretending to be in journalism, rather than showbusiness. As you say, roll on the football. Still, International Rescue is shouldering its way on-camera so the poor buggers can expect a soundbite or two from David Miliband, bless them, bananas4all.
One of my cousins was a Shankill Butcher, so I'll thank you to keep a civil head in your tongue on that score, although I do not recognize my mother's anguish at the NoBlacksNoDogsNoIrish Brummy street song in the faces of Ahmed and his family; they are not my kin, they are not my race, the religion to which they cling abominates me and mine, sure, they bleed and grieve but so do millions and millions of others, so does everybody, everyone migrates furiously and hopelessly from Death and his heartless sergeants, that's what John Donne meant, we are all mortal, deluding ourselves otherwise, for a time; that Death's bell tolls for thee does not mean that thou shouldst throw open thy doors to anyone who beseeches thee entry, as I said, no system of organized beings, no society, no animal population can absorb an infinite number of aliens without itself perishing.
Now, it may well be that CallHimDave's munificence on our behalf, in admitting a handful of people is a good if limited thing but we don't build council houses for ourselves, just who do you think is going to build some for asylumrefugeemigrants? And if anyone did, just imagine the righteous uproar. Alright for you and I, in our period homes, to see this as small beer but try selling that to people living in bedsits, hopeless of ever having a home. Oh, yeah, they need these new homes more than you do, yes, because they bin on the telly.
And across southern Europe people are already kicking up, enraged by posturing politicians flooding their streets with walking emoticons, their parks with tented desperado populations, Lebanon, apparently, is a nightmare prophecy for us all of refugee-induced meltdown. There is no future for your charity, your compassion, just blood and decay.
That something must be done is evident and give me the resources of the civil service and the military and I might tell you what that something is, Maybe we do need to kill President Basher, hang a few of his warriors and allow the IMF to get in there and set up an obedient state, maybe we need to appoint Benjy Governor General of the region, maybe we should nuke Mecca, perhaps sink every ship and RIB in the Mediterrnean, I dunno, but what I do know is that your road to Hell, kindly and well-meaning, is a six-lane autobahn, heading over a cliff.
There was a time when you referred to this stuff as a cathartic Islamic Reformation, which its adherents must endure and emerge from on the other side. Amen, so be it.
I attended a training course last week and came across a concept new to me which helped me to understand the madness. Post-post-Fordism.
Fordism - you can have any colour you want as long as it is black.
Post-Fordism - you can pick the colour you want from these fifty choices.
Post-post-Fordism - phone the factory and order your fuschia-pink car with yellow stripes and blue polka dots
The combination of the Death of Deference and Post-post-Fordism (surely a good thing - Ed.) means there are as many desires and views as there are people and everyone is entitled ....
Totally unmanageable.
It is one of the great propaganda coups of our time, Iran, mr mike, that Israel needs nukes against her neighbor's but her neighbors don't need nukes against her, because of the Holocaust. I knew a post-revolution evictee from Iran, those ayatollahs, she screeched, had stolen from her all the money that she had stolen from Iran, she was now reduced to living in a Georgian rectory, flogging off looted Persian antiquities.
Ms Kendall, according to Mr Frankie Boyle, resembles an office manager, just returned from a course, you're not her, are you, ms Agatha?
The meta-consumerism which you describe does not, I fear, embrace a charitable instinct, indeed, it is predicated upon self uber other, our make-believe economy has no room for the needy, unless, of course, they are all to be deployed as minimum wage carey-brutes in privatised care homes, there to torment our bewildered elderly. Micky Farron, Slayer of Isilites, and defence seckatry, used to be on the boards of such torture enterprises, his price, now, however, will be much higher, now that he is a fully-fledged cabinet spiv.
It is a testy subject, this, mr sg, on which it is possible to hold a number of views. I share mr mongoose's instinct, mr yardarm's rage and mr tdg's fatalism but basically, I suppose, I just don't like the look of these people; that probably betrays a half a dozen -isms of which I should be ashamed but perhaps an intuition, too, which I should not dismiss.
I think still that it is partly the Islamic Reformation but there are too many spoons now stirring the pot for any good to come of it fast. And, yes, we should hang the captain of every craft in the Mediterranean whose passenger manifest is unfiled - like crows every 100 yards along the North African coast, I'd have them. Parasite bastards. And I'd burn every last dinghy before it could be used to kill a few more poor bastards too. The simplest way to ease the pain is to remove those who would profit by it and/or their means of doing so. (Alas, this probably includes a hefty cohort of undercover CIA and MI6 spooks). And let us not be mealy-mouthed about it, it is the poor countries of southern Europe who are going to be stacked with the desperate. The solid citizens of the North will drag their heels and file their papers until the snow falls and the columns slow.
But for better or worse there are now a great many poor fuckers about to drop dead in the winter and their kids have got to sleep somewhere.
But thus is where it gets tricky, if lives are in danger in North Africa and made safer by transit to Europe then how is the boatman a villain; if people fall to their knees, kissing the Grecian earth, are not their transporters their saviours?
When I smoked dope I never considered the dealer villain and neither you nor I know how much these boatmen charge - if it is vast sums then why don't these people, paying those sums, purchase jointly a safer vessel? Might not the boatmen be shitpoor, grabbing what they can, in order to feed their own families? I don't know the answer to these questions but I certainly wouldn't believe Dopey Phil Hammond or Mick Fallon, not if they were telling me the time.
You know how it is, the cops find a couple of joints and Hey Presto, they have a street value of tens of thousands of pounds, and sergeant Filth continues to take a bung from Mr Big, nicking the small fry. So it is with statesmen, lying, thieving fuckpigs, easy to blame a few simple boatmen for the generational fuck up of their own policies.
Thank you Mr SG: I look forward to searching that book out on my return. Sounds like my kind of reading.
As an aside, I must say how much I appreciate the contributions of all, which on several occaisions have sent me off down interesting paths I would otherwise have never ventured.
Neighbours, mr mike, everybody needs good neighbours, with a little understanding, you can find the perfect blend..............
The finances of it are odd. I was listening to the radio last week and one of the running was being interviewed. She spoke English better than I do, was a professional of some sort I forget and had just come across the water to a Greek island, had traveled on and was about to buy her family's a raft of train tickets with cash. This cannot be a cheap business but her journey had included the same madcap adventures on the high seas as the poorest seem to suffer.
It seems to me that demand outstrips supply. A seller's market. But some of these people are indeed not financially as distressed as many here. They - or some of them - are fleeing something more sinister.
Whatever else happens, in the main the jolly boatman fulfills his contract with his customers, many of whom arrive, as you say, still in funds, and if this aspect of private enterprise is to be demonised, if one spoke in the wheel of chaos is to be singled-out it is just another example of us being spoken to like children. Probably what we deserve. On reflection, though, it probably is all his fault, none of this shit would have happened without these criminal mariners. Mick Fallon, he da man, kill the fuckers without trial, one-two-three, what are we fighting for? Extrajudicial execution, great British values like that. I do hope that none of Dave's blessed twenty thousand are disabled, hope they are all, as Reichsfuhrer Schmidt describes it, normal. I am off, now, to the Tank of Healing; I hope I find more sense at full fathom five than I do, here, at sea level.
Philpott.
It might have less to do with the wider issue than this audience's natural antipathy to being jerked around. Three years residence in Turkey is not fleeing war. Nor is taking the bodies back to be buried. And we only have his word for what actually happened on the boat. As with ladders and fires, it is possible that a stunt may go wrong. Then again, out on a boat, how do you tell the difference between a stunt and a murder. If there was a boat. How convenient that the required body turned up where Daddy needed it. Where are the other bodies? Does drowning usually work this way? And what about forensics on the body, such as discovering the exact cause of death and length of time in the water? I am no expert but that did not look as if it had been wet for that long. And where exactly is the money his sister sent him? And what is the real family name and what exactly did happen about the application to go to Canada? Was it made, was it turned down, or did he not take up the offer? The story does not stick together. Why did the Turkish authorities initially give the child's name as Aylan, with overtones of Islam, when in fact it is Alan, and has been corrected by even the Guardian?
All that happened was that an inconsistent image was constructed and key politicians - who, let's face it, are no strangers to dead children, it goes with the job even if they are being decent rather than venal - suddenly felt under enormous Twitter pressure. Or, rather, they wanted to open the doors and arranged a plausible photo op. The photo itself is inconsistent and staged. Or maybe the Turks were looking for a way to make it possible to send hundreds of thousands of people on their way.
What is happening and what to do next are bigger questions but this much I know for sure: it would have been wrong to suddenly form social services and prosecution policy on the grounds of Mick Philpott shouting that the council and/or his ex-girlfriend had killed his children - and it still is wrong to form it on the basis of an a person whose financial background and family decisions have not been properly investigated.
Cameron was also being stampeded and should have had his attention drawn to the fact that parents do sometimes stunt-up attacks and kidnapping on their own children assuming correctly that this creates a wave of uncritical sympathy in the first instance. (The Climbie parents were treated as poor victims when the shits had in fact sold their daughter for benefits farming). But as we have seen with Maddy, even if it might be true, sympathy can wear thin very fast indeed.
It is just that at the moment it is assumed to be rude to ask the same questions of brown people as we might of white doctors. That is going to change over the next couple of days, as it did when below the line commenters began asking questions about Jerry and Cilla.
Mrs Raft on tour
Everything on teevee is fantasy. Maybe not a fantasy for the families in the boats and now ensconced in the environs of a quaint German town. But for the viewers it’s not real. If it ain’t entertainment it’s propaganda.
You don’t get on teevee unless someone puts you there. There is no record or tv or film contract unless you’re going to serve some purpose. Usually it’s to line someone’s pockets., but in this case it’s propaganda.
What’s the purpose of these waves of well presented families with small photogenic kids amongst them?...How hellish it must be in those countries they have fled and we should step in to help with ordnance.
The evidence here, such as it is, is a corpse about three feet long - true, one convenient image among a great many silent and invisible dead.
The maths though starts to stack a little. On the iThing you might find From Our Own Correspondent... 600 on a boat at 900-1,000 each is £540,000 (or was it euros?) for a few hours work. So it is worth somebody's sleep to stack 'em and pack 'em onto any piece of shite upon which the engine can be made to start. Gambians in the hold at 750 and middle class Syrians on deck. But once we're out of port an hour, we'll tell the twats that Somewhere is just over the horizon to the North, prod their arses onto a felucca and fuck off home to their dosh. This is cunthood of the highest order. BTW it's actually better for business if only a token few ever make it in to land. It's an uncomfortable thought, I know, but one cannot help but be pragmatic at times such as these.
Thanks, mrs woar, for cudgelling my brains. I looked at that photo and thought all those things yet did not dare voice them; no fish-nibbled little face, just those little legs a-dangling there, all melancholy, cradled in the arms of officialdom, gathered-in, for Showbusiness, might all have been framed by Annie Liebowitz or some other tart-snapper, the picture, as with that of wall-eyed little Madeleine McCann, short-circuiting enquiry, Anita Crow, on the PBCs Any Answers show denouncing anyone who differed from the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the showbiz truth; dead kid, job done, BAFTAs all round.
But listen to this.
I packed my bag last night, pre-flight, took it to the check-in. Two tablets in there, yes, I know, if they get broke it's my fault. Right.
Ten minutes pass and I'm talking to an old friend who works there. Can passenger mr Ishmael smith on the Aberdeen flight please contact baggage reconciliation, that's mr Ishmael smith to baggage reconciliation. I frowned at the Tannoy humiliation and Ian said to me, Please, be nice.
This your luggage, sir?
Get my name on it.
were you aware, sir, that you have two laptops in it?
Tablets.
Tablets?
They're tablets, not laptops.
Well, sir, we call them laptops.
They're not laptops.
But for our purposes, for sa-curity purposes, they are.
No, they're not. You done with me?
Not quite, sir, there's a hipflask in here....
Morphine.
Morphine, sir?
Morphine.
Do you use morphine, sir?
No.
But then......
I might do. If I want to.
If you want to, sir?
Yeah, if I want to. Morphine's one of those things.
And what things would those be, sir?
One of those things which are better to have and not need than need and not have.
But I'm in a very difficult position here, sir. I haven't been trained to recognize the smell of morphine.
Tell you what, you have a good slug of it and if, in a couple of minutes you feel all comfy-cosy and wanna go to sleep you can bet your yellow jacket it's morphine.
He went away, muttering.
Ten minutes later, going into departures, a young lady asked me to remove my belt and hobble through the metal detector holding my trousers up.
You know, I said to her, there's tens of thousands of Syrians and Turks and Kosovans and Africans all marching into Europe just now and nobody's asking them to take their belts off, so what's the point of me taking off mine.
She laughed, as though I had made a joke.
No, no, no, I'm not joking, I said, fixing her eye with mine, I have lived a few miles up the road, here, for fifteen years, I pay taxes here, I have created employment here, I pass through this airport a dozen times a year at least and you treat me like a suspect, while maybe millions of proper suspects are just wandering-in. She fell silent, too shocked even to dribble about just doing her job.
How has this happened, that we blithely live as citizen-suspects, never sating Boo! to some fuckwit in a cheap uniform?
Whatever it is it comes from the same bullshit canister that has us one minute terrified of strangers, especially muslim strangers and then the next minute ordered by the Arsebishop of Canterbury to take them into our homes, lijewere doing Peace and Reconciliation for the Crusades, instructed by the PBC that if we are suspicious of all this lunacy that we are bad people, Frau Lardarse, stomping all over the Greek face while welcoming a million or so non-taxpaying aliens. Why is it that someone who is not a European citizen is treated so much better than someone who is? How does that work? AS you say, mrs woar, things must change.
Should you take a taxi, here, in the best part of England, you will find the drivers to be incensed about everything but especially about that photograph.
I don't know the going rate, mr mongoose, for a trip from Hell, but I'm sure I wouldn't take the word of a PBC correspondent, he or she having failed to notice or report upon his HQ being Nonce Central. But even if it is half a million bucks for an afternoon than that is Bukkake Boy's free market operating as it should. As for abandonment what about all those abandoned by the sub-primesters,all the criminals, mr yardarm's dosh jugglers, quantitatively eased into luxury by you and I, who never made a penny from the scams; what about Tony Blair and NewLabour, starting felonious wars purely for their own profit, what about that Hogg bastard going into the Lords? There is no end to cuntishness and if the water-borne hackney carriage operative's guild is taking the West as its exemplar, why should we blame them?
As I said, my instincts are broadly the same as yours, here, but our moral and political and mercantile establishment is in no position to chastise Ahmed for milking Sorrow, isn't that the policy of our own government, vis a vis health care, social care, disability and on and on. What is the difference between Osborne, Duncan Smith, Andy Burnham and these Mariners on the Make?
At the risk of being accused of being Ms. Kendall, I venture back into the risky arena of commentating, to say that it never occurred to me for a moment that THAT photograph was staged - but now Mrs. Raft has suggested it, it seems blindingly obvious. If it was staged in order to get opinion moving, it certainly worked, although it is not just taxi drivers who are incensed about it. My daughter, who has done a pretty thorough job of shrugging off all the liberal Vahlewes with which I attempted to indoctrinate her during her childhood, was furious that the father who had so recklessly endangered his wife and children, had survived the ordeal.
I believe the nation is uneasy, ms Agatha, liberals like me and mr mongoose perturbed, I suspect, by how things got this way and quarrelling about their resolution, a union on the point of being ruptured, a parliament of scoundrels revealed in all its ignominy by the Labour election, a welfare policy of cruelty and the ascent to the Lords of vermin who should be hung in chains. It's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard and it's a hard, it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
Yeah, you couldn't make it up.
BTW, why do I have to prove I'm not a robot? This is a new and unwelcome development.
Well, you have done whatever it is, obviously. Nothing I can do about it, I'm afraid, Google owns this site, they just let me play here.
All of that is true, Mr Ishmael. Of course, you overlook that a noble mariner engaged in the business of moving breathing cargo will find himself encumbered in the free market by the law. The law of moving his cargo in relative comfort, and at least undrowned. But we will not fall out over a hair split here and there. And there may be no difference - one swine to the next - but there being swine abroad does not free us all to be similar, and accompany them to Hell on Bolt's grounds of fellowship. There may be policy but it is not my fucking policy.
I believe Mr I that the Longest Reigning Benefits Claimant is to offer to house all 20,000 poor Syrian Refugees that Ham face has promised asylum, in celebration of out-reigning her gross, gross Grandmutter.Seig Hiel.
The fury of Agatha's daughter reminds me of something William Burroughs used to quote, which I think was originally aimed (by an American journalist) at a lifeboat-stealing survivor of the Titanic:
"This man still lives. Surely he was born and saved to set for men a new standard by which to measure infamy and shame."
Mr Ish - "citizen-suspects" is a good one; exactly right. Cheeky fucking bastards.
This is a little tangential, and slightly frivolous in a way, but the remarks about world travellers (not Mr Mike, natch) push me to recommend a book by Decca Aitkenhead (10 or 15 years ago) called "The Promised Land - Search for the Perfect E." The drug angle was a bit of a gimmick, but the book nails the modern grand tour for what it often is, the ability to experience (& flaunt) great (relative) wealth; nasty little bastards on a Thai beach swearing at an impromptu taxi driver for charging a bit extra (maybe 50 p's worth of baht at the time) after a full-moon party. (D.A. and her boyfriend practically cheer at one point when they overhear someone admit to being "on holiday".)
verge.//
I nearly choked, mr inmate, seeing Gnasher kow-towing her little rodent body before Brenda, today, best laugh I've had for days, it will not have gone down well with the Tribesmen.
All I'm saying, mr mongoose, is the way things are, the example set by prelates and princes and politicians is the one being followed in the Med. Bush, Blair, Pope Nazi, the Clintons, Hague, Fox, Chilcot, Hutton, Murdoch, McKenzie, Brooks, Campbell, Straw, Osborne, Carey, King; Merkel, la Vache, that cock-waving frog dork. Gitmo, Fallujah, WikiLeaks, state murder. I wish we had the moral standing to lecture the boatmen, I really do, but all we can say is Not In My Name,as if anybody gives a fuck about that.
I used to like Decca Aitkenhead, what, fifteen twenty years ago, mr verge, she had assumed Mad Mel Phillips-Rosenberg's role at the Guardian, of fashioning phrases to rebuke the monsters in the Home Office, a good girl, I though, then, seldom hear of her, now. Oh, and she wrote a beautiful piece about the modern Bride, how she was become despot entitlemtista, yes, a bit of a rarity, she was, Decca, in MediaMinster. Hope she doesn't follow Mad Mel into Redneck Central.
Never let a crisis go to waste. I'm more cynical than most, and the syrian kid thing looks staged, or at least couldn't have happened at a better time for whoever is organising this.
Crossing the border between Croatia and Serbia one can still feel the hostility from the war in 1991. Tales of dearing do in defence of Dubrovnik were readily volunteered by drivers. I can't see the Croats accepting open borders or re-homing infidels from the East. I expect that once the bleeding heart stuff has run out of steam, pragmatism and hostility will follow. As Ive said before, moving across Europe and further needs organisation and money - I saw it first hand in Italy; the Germans, French, Italians in my train carriage were clearly not amused and only good manners on our part avoided the mother of all punch-ups. A microcosm of what is coming to a country near you, shortly.
PS It wouldn't suprise me if charity and NGO money (ie re-cycled Government money) were funding this stuff.
Googled to look, Mr Ish, and this very sad story emerged. A certain dark irony, as well, given what we've been discussing here:
http://tinyurl.com/pp2tepp
v.//
Mr Mike, I worked in Croatia and a small town in Serbia -Subotica- close to the border with Hungary, in the the years following their wars and found the people very pleasant, respectful and helpful.
But, most bemoaned the death of Marshall Tito and the all encompassing State.They missed their Summer holidays in Greece, the skiing in the Alps and being allowed to travel on a passport that was excepted anywhere in the world, including uncle Sam, and they couldn't understand the need to now pay Tax.
We then moved to Belgrade, re-building after the Mercan/Brit bombings, a stark contrast in the landscape and the people from before. The all pervading smell of diesel generators in the hotels,the Ladas' and Yugos' and horse drawn carts everywhere.
The people were bitter with their past leaders, Milosevic and Karadzic; and the Mercan and British governments. They couldn't understand why they had been targeted when the war was being fought outside Serbia.
The local Mafia where beginning to take control of their lives, corruption was rife in local and national government - it always is, wherever you look - they where to put their faith in a young President, but the hard-liners removed him.
We returned to Belgrade a few years later, a quieter more pleasant place of shiny new buildings, BMWs, MERCs and more 'stuff' to buy, but still the odd dead bodies in the street. There remained that underlying tension and hatred of the Croats and Slovenians for breaking-up their country.
Like you I can't see the Serbs accepting open borders, they feel, like Milwall fans, that everybody hates them.
Seems Hungary is about to become the new Pariah state of Europe now by exercising their right to secure their own borders from illegal immigrants.
Perhaps this is the motive for the massed planned immigration. Any country that decides against any more influx gets turned over.
I’d be interested to know who is the agenda chairman at that table all the EU countries are sitting round….”Right how many are you going to take?” Can I put you down for 20,000?”
Call me an old cynic, but here's my take on the game plan:
The US aided by its puppet states, wants to control the ME because of its resources. As usual, the MBA suits can't admit error and don't forsee the consequences. The public will not accept any more overt wars after Iraq. Not wishing to miss an oportunity they forment unrest within ME countries aimed at regime change. This gets out of hand, but again an oportunity presents. Through willing bleeding hearts in charities and NGO's, they channel funding, this creates the human wave of migrants. They know this will ultimately create resentment in each affected country, thus conditioning public opinion for full-scale war. Which is what they wanted in the first place.
Only today, I read in the Filthograph that we must attack Syria to solve the migrant wave.
There is no way, IMHO, that this has happened by chance.
Possible mistiming of that statement from the filthograph. If the intention is to prime public opinion for entry into Syria (Was never off the table …was it?) Should have waited a bit for the inevitable…
You're an old cynic...as am I.
Interesting stuff, thanks, those Balkan reminiscences.
Certainly, Bukkake Boy, having vanquished the nation's weaklings, is beating War's drum, gabbling, coked-up, that we gotta do this, we're gonna do that, we wanna do the other, like the ignorant, ill-spoken little tart he is; Christ, he makes Sid Poundland look suave and sophisticated.
And I see that young parent, Mr Snot, is hawking his dead kid expertise around, pontificating, hoping for a global recognition of Snottism as the one true faith, him and Sarah-George, of course, offering their sol-you-shuns, all deeply-rooted in the vaaahl-ewes of the Labour party, which is about to shit all over his shoes, he a bloated, deranged imbecile, she a vain, stupid PR ugly sister; all we need is Imelda Blair, beseeching us to bomb, for the sake of Christ the MoneyChanger, and we are on the way to a full house of NewLabourSluts4War, I long to hear from Jack Straw, John Reid, Geoff Hoon and that other cunt, wotsisname, Bob Ainsworth.
Dunno if Ed Miliband has been of service to his party, in burying child abuse scandals, as was William Hague, to his, but Brother Corbyn should certainly bring him back onto the front bench, just to piss people off. Gosh, the Blairites'll be pissing broken glass at not being able to profit from a war, it's why they came into politics, after all., to kill niggers.
Well it is a new twist, I suppose, mr verge, a father saving a drowning child and losing his own life.
Someone said that mr richard had posted her, just now; has anyone deleted him?
An interesting twist on it all from Hans Rosling, whose numbers have never let me down before. It makes you wonder what the fuck is going on actually inside Syria.
Yes, indeed, mr mongoose, whatthefuckism unbound, the EU restricting asylum seeking to nought point two per cent of those technically eligible, while dressed in Lady Bountiful's frock. Hope you will be supporting Caitlin Moran, because she cares, and she wants to help us care, .
Fuck me but I hope Brother Corbyn's first priority as prime minister is the setting up of a big shiny, celebrity guillotine, right outside the PBC to cut their fucking heads off.
Not much chance of that Mr Ish. If brother Corbyn displays any sort of integrity, preventative measures will be rolled out faster’n a one legged man in an arse kickin’ competition.
In my living memory I haven’t seen a prime minister or ministress whose sole aim for getting into no.10 was to line his or her own pockets or for furtherance of globadeath merchants dividends.
Wasn't that should have been.
All that's true, mr doug, and by my calculation Brother Corbyn has been paid, or earned, as they call it, over two million taxpayer pounds - at today's rate - in a period in which Joe Bloggs might have earned a third of that; given, also that Corbyn only has to go to work if he wants to, that he enjoys lavish holiday and pension arrangements as well as massively subsidised food and drink, free travel and a few quid here and there, like Diane Abbott, from scribblings and burblings, I think we can say that he is a very careerist career politician, thirty years on the gravy train and only rattled but the flimsiest of cages, Palestine rather than paedophilia. There is the fact that his electorate seem to like him but so does David Cameron's, Ian Duncan Schmidt's and Bukkake Boy's.
I will celebrate if he wins, but guardedly.
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