Masters Of The Universe.

Back in the 80's stock market traders were dubbed 'masters of the universe' by a press that thought they could do no wrong.

The trouble is that there are literally millions of people in this country that do, really and earnestly, want to be masters of the universe.
They hope and pray that all their coughing, sneezing and snivelling will amount to something in this world, some cumulative scar on some innocent back.

They don't think that there are any innocents; they think that they are the people, and that anyone who doesn't misbehave like them is an outcast, a weakling, a victim who deserves
to be the victim.

When, after a lifetime of their pathetic efforts to mutilate, without ever having taken a real risk, they see some man or woman with bent shoulders, they take cold satisfaction at the suspicion that their incessant little whippings are what caused it, while believing with pathological earnestness that they are the masters and that this will never happen to them.

Britain is one of the worst places for this, because Britain hasn't been conquered and taught a lesson; Britain also has never had a Prague Spring where the murderers were rounded up and murdered.

So Britain is safe for these creeps.

When they find that they are confronted by a few people who don't play the game, they are genuinely terrified, and genuinely outraged.
And these few are labeled 'nutter' and 'psycho' because they dare to inflict fear where fear is felt.
The next time you walk down a street in Britain and don't get bothered, or have a day at home when the neighbours don't feel emboldened enough to trash your innocent privacy, thank the nutter who went out, say, last Friday night, and made an example of one of these bloody bastards on his home turf.

It happens.
Thank god.
Not too much rule of law eh?