Saturday, June 02, 2012

Dear Maj

Dear Maj,
So it has been sixty years. It is time for us to have a chat. I usually steer clear of collectivist language but today it seems appropriate. For today it is clear that any beneficent collective identity has been ripped away from us under your stewardship and what I have come to claim as positive and peculiarly ‘British’ in the demeanour I yet share with so many of my countrymen and women is now looked upon as an evil anachronism, whilst you somehow are not.

Seven times they were asked to sign. And seven times they signed. Each time the Sovereign looked on whilst the sovereignty of which she was supposed to be protector unto death was packaged up and sold off to a foreign and unaccountable power.

And yet you did nothing.

Even as you looked on, your son the Clown Prince Chuckles, stood in the Traitor’s Parliament and wittered on about how wonderful it was and that more power should be transferred as was humanly possible. He who hateth his subjects so: The Son of the Sovereign boasted how he would like to siphon off the thimble full of sovereignty still remaining to the mendacious mandarins of the continent and all their satanic little helpers in our own parliament of whores.

And yet you did nothing.

The country was made morally bankrupt in the world’s eyes as it pursued two horrific invasions and occupations, slaughtering thousands, maiming tens of thousands, forever destroying the lives of millions and leaving our descendants with foreign policy consequences for generations to come. All based on the lies and ambitions of a few men whom I can scarcely believe are human never mind that such worms are permitted to prosper. Even those who claimed realpolitik advantage with our once great daughter civilisation in the Americas were shown to be fools as even now when our own citizens are genuinely in need in the Falklands, even supposed allies turn against us. All that blood and treasure expended – for what?

And yet you did nothing.

In complete inversion of the self-sufficient British spirit for which our countrypeople became renowned we became dependants and weaklings. This phlegmatic race who would always fight to a finish has transformed into a debased shadow with its hand out constantly. The politics of division and sectarianism have become rooted in the nation which is now in terminal decline. This island of whom Napoleon said was made of a ‘nation of shopkeepers’ is now a set of divided ambulance chasing collectives. The paradox of democracy reached its nadir when the lazy and stupid outnumbered the rest of us and were able to vote themselves largesse from the state. Dispensation that they still demand even though reality will not be forthcoming as they have been taught otherwise by the ghostly whores that pass as statesmen and stateswomen in the parliament that is now little more than a regional office of the greater EUSSR.

And yet you did nothing.

When the one eyed son of the manse, the kirkcaldy clown, our very own modern day Caligula bullied his way to the position of Prime Monster and dealt the country its final death blow, you looked on still. In contravention to all sense, to appease the helpless class he and his fellow shitstains had so lovingly created here as a perpetual lobbying population for sloth and mediocrity, he took the nation to the very edge of bankruptcy. Globalisation has done its work and began rebalancing the economies and the equality of all humans across the Globe. For some reason the British post baby-boomers did not seem to think they needed to lift a finger to maintain their advantage. They were British you see and appear to have been led to believe that this meant simply expecting the world to fall at one’s feet, not – instead – as I understand it, to fight for it. And to have to fight for it with every generation. No Maj. They saw you and your ghastly family still riding high regardless of all other circumstances and so thought that they would be carried on one’s opulent coattails. They were not, as you well knew. This you have seen.

And yet you did nothing.

Postnormalism has now taken root within our educational institutions, our media, our science, our politics. No civilisation can survive such. The lies that increasingly became part of the ship of state are now, like woodworm, infested into the very foundations of the ship of society. Yet you knew. You knew. Now those blessed few of us who bother to look know, after it had been kept secret for three decades, that the Heath government knew what the endgame plan was for the EC. Millions voted in good conscience believing that their Dear Leaders would not lead them astray thinking that we were being bound to something as beneficial as a free market with our continental cousins. It was all a lie and known from the very beginning. My heart is gripped in a vice of pain and fear anticipating how many more revelations from the secret state, to which you were of course always party, will come to light in the coming decades. If I even make it to old age, I suspect I will die a sad weeping old man upon discovery of the poisons you have injected into the veins of this country. You will be long dead by then of course but your legacy will have lived on and the consciously managed decline of this realm will be complete even as you rot.

And yet you did nothing.

Those cultural gas chambers that we laughingly call institutes of learning are now producing en masse generations who cannot read, write or even use computers whilst being pumped full of a sense of entitlement that few of them deserve, to go out into a world where potential investors in their future are being taught to flee as fast as they can as the country becomes a becon and world leader in the most mind numbing levels of interference, taxation and petty expectation. Were it the case that these policies had produced a majority in upcoming generations of critical and incisive thinkers, but no. Under this factory system we now have surfeit of useless, talentless, wasters.

And yet you did nothing.

A single man was primarily responsible for preventing our joining the madness that is the Euro: Jimmy Goldsmith, who used his own personal fortune (in contrast to you) to defend the interests of the realm. Somehow you have outlived him. And none of the shit-sucking convention of genetic defectives of which you are part in the ruling class stood alongside him. It is clear the people are your enemy for you have not defended or protected them, you have instead been the nursemaid to many evil men, and now increasingly women too, who would sap the goodness of this nation for their own engorgement. And the marrow of the British is all but spent and about to crumble.

And you did nothing.

The nation’s legacy will be to have its landscape dotted with rusting Eco-crucifixes and hollow ivory towers of entitlement that future tourists will come to visit and laugh at whilst historians will look back in astonishment at this decades long act of collective suicide, all under your stewardship. We all fought eachother in our blocs and our bunkers – bunkers more like ruts that are just graves with the ends knocked out – that we failed to see the root, never mind strike it.

And for those of us who dared to say ‘no’, or to ask ‘why’ whether categorised in the ‘left’ or ‘right’ sheep pens (all the better to ensure we continue fighting eachother rather than you fifth columnists at the very heart of our institutions), we are directed to expend our energy arguing over the clowns and muppets in the parliament of whores over who has the differentest same policies whilst you and the rest of the shit eating ruling class untwine the last threads of the rug from beneath us with so few – so very few – noticing what you are doing. And those of us in the latter group to us you left the ultimate betrayal, for to us you turned our friends, family and loved ones into abscesses and whores and made them cry out that we had hurt them most.

I am not your subject. I owe you no allegiance or loyalty. No queen or monarch are you to me. No god, no master, but maybe a monster who has piled up secrets, lies and hypocrisy so high they will soon touch heaven.

 To you I bequeath this wreath and this curse.