Reaper Man

I started writing this on Friday, since when events have overtaken us somewhat. But the good news, before the bad news came, was that so-called jihadi john – pieces be upon him – is believed to be incorporated into the landscape, courtesy of military technology in the form of a Reaper drone. The idea that you can vanquish an enemy at arm’s length has been a long sought-after goal of generals everywhere, especially when that enemy spreads fear through committing wanton, barbaric atrocities on living captives.

Drone attacks have become part of everyday language, much like smart weapons did during the Yugoslavian adventure and ‘boots on the ground’, has entered the national vocabulary as shorthand for having a nodding acquaintance with military lore and lexicon. We like it; it makes us feel important, knowledgeable, powerful and even the appeasers like Jeremy Corbyn, while mouthing their mealy bon-mots about justice by trial can’t help but feel that it is better to be on the side that can command such shock and awe than the one which will only receive these special gifts from the west.

In reaction to Paris, the Christians would have us turn the other cheek, but what next, when you’ve lost both cheeks? At which point on the hippy dippy continuum did the belief that everybody would one day be nice to each other take root, grow and become the orthodoxy? And for those not inclined to simply lay their necks on the chopping blocks there is the moral high ground which is claimed simply by getting there first. There is lots of chatter about how we must not be taken in, how we must not react in haste; how we mustn’t do exactly what ISIS want us to do, which is to fight back, apparently.

So, what do we do? Seriously, if all-out bombing followed by ground assault is not an option and we are incapable of defending ourselves at home unless we incarcerate everybody with a dark face, with or without the scowly beard, just what do we do? ‘Learning lessons’ appears to be a busted flush; school is very much out as regards foiling terror plots. And we can’t even use a hashtag or hold up a sign any more for fear of merciless ridicule... thank you Michelle Obama! But wait, the oracle that is Jean-Claude Juncker says the answer to all of this is yet more of the open borders nonsense that is partly to blame. Defeat ISIS by making it even easier for their brethren to enter the kaffirs’ kingdom and plunder its benefits.

Slough... now.

How seriously deluded and wedded to an ideology do you have to be that you put the safety, the very lives, of your citizens at risk before admitting that ideology is fallible. That is surely just as flawed and fatally dogmatic as is fanatical islam. We need a better answer. As long ago as 1937 John Betjeman wrote of Slough: “Come friendly bombs and rain on Slough. It isn’t fit for humans now.” If only we had a reaper drone so smart it could take out only the enemies of the people; target a jihadi on his prayer mat so precisely that barely six square feet of scorched earth mark the spot. If we ever make such a weapon, people like Juncker might want to be very careful what they wish for.

Made in the EU

I am a Little Englander. There, I said it. I want my monoculture back. I don’t mind immigrants, I never have. But I resent being told that our identity must be sacrificed so theirs can flourish. So when David Cameron says that Westminster is too white he reveals that he really is the heir to Blair. For a while I was applauding what looked like a valiant standing up for principle when he opposed Jean-Claude ‘drunker’ Juncker’s coronation on the European throne but today I begin to wonder if that was merely a staged event to woo back Eurosceptics to the Tory fold.

Toothless, friendless and despised, the formerly independent country of the United Kingdom will soon become a mere region of communism’s grandest scheme yet – to subjugate half a billion people to the whim of a dictator figure chosen by a process about as legitimate as musical chairs. The EU will become ever more federal, presidents will be appointed – like Juncker – without concern for the workings of any recognisable form of democracy and today’s levels of profligacy and corruption will look like models of propriety to future eyes.

In short, we are pretty much fucked if we stay in. Forget the brain drain from Britain to Europe; as ever fewer high earners realise they are paying an increasingly large proportion of the welfare bill to keep ever more grunts in low-paid grunt jobs, subsidised by state handouts to remain low-skilled and dependent, the evacuation of talent is already extending beyond Europe itself. Yes, you heard it here first; watch as in a few generations the Chinese and Indians and Malaysians will joke about European sweatshops and cheap, shoddy goods ‘Made in the EU'.

And for what? I have always suspected it but just like everybody else I have never had the means to quantify the harm it has done to Britain to be part of the whole rotten edifice. On Saturday Ed Miliband repeated the same tired, fourteen-year old lie, beloved of Nick Clegg but repeatedly refuted by the report’s original authors, that three million UK jobs ‘depend’ on the EU. I can only hope that the latest finding by cross-party think tank Civitas, that far from benefitting the UK, EU membership has done little or nothing at all for our prosperity. Indeed, in some respects it may even have hindered us; it has certainly made it almost impossible for us to retain any semblance of self-government.

I’m just sick of it. Sick of being lied to, sick of being taken for a compliant cash cow, sick of being robbed by imperious governments pursuing lofty socialist ideals. I’m sick of being derided and called racist for wanting to be British, sick of being made to feel ashamed of being white, middle-class, male, in work and daring to hold opinions contrary to the liberal metrosexmopolitan effete. I'm sick to my back teeth, just like my ailing country.

Heil Juncker! (*hic*)

For decades Britain has been in a coma, but just as Michael Schumacher appears to be finally showing signs of consciousness maybe there is hope for us yet. It might not be easy – although I believe it will be much easier than the useful idiots want us to believe – but not only will we cope, detached from the placebo of EU life support, we will thrive. I hope I live to see the day when my country can once again hold her head high as the brains drain back in our direction from the pitiful, impoverished, United Gulags of Europe.