Ever Get The Feeling?

It has been said in so many ways by so many people. Listen to some of the songs of the Stranglers, or Elvis Costello for example.
But do you ever get the feeling that the bastards are looking at you?

I had a jewish girlfriend; some random guy at work starts talking in obscene detail about jewish girls, it never happened before or since.
I wrote a warning letter to a girl called 'Kate' (the rape-militia has itchy fingers, all the way from New York down to Africa - Rolling Stones ), and the following week one morning driving down a deserted street, a car cut me up, with a bumper-sticker saying 'Kate came first'.
This month a French girl was nice to me, and in the pub we moved onto half an hour later with the group, I hear a group of blokes start telling insulting jokes about the French.
Now some of it could be bad luck; some of it could be coincidence. But not all of it.

That's not possible. You see, I am a dangerous man. I once challenged orthodoxy with my fists, and orthodox thuggery is useful to those who really control modern British society, the society of Atlas Shrugged or the wood-tossing creeps of Rostand's Paris.
Here they do whatever it takes to keep us under control, usually not much, as to them there is the matter of their humanitarian illusions.
But they are ever present, and will keep on working just as long as it takes to reduce us to compliant little slugs; slugs ruled by slags, with smiles bared at us only to emphasise their withdrawal should we fail to be good little boys.
Their stormtroopers are recruited and trained young. They are more than criminal.
They are the rulers of exception.

British Fair Play.

When an Englishman sees somebody happy, when an Englishman sees me, when an Englishman of any nationality sees Howard Roark in an unguarded moment; he sees something which offends his sense of 'fairness'.
This fairness came to me while watching a sports channel advert; the soccer player had scored, and was gazing about filled with joy, looking for the stamp of public approval on his feeling - having kicked a leather skin into a rope net.

Anyway, the English see this as a valid and approvable joy that they can 'award' by leaving it in peace, as long as the person concerned doesn't get above themselves.
But when they see me, they see someone who feels that way naturally at all times, apparently having done nothing special to 'deserve' it.

These creeps really do think that they are the arbiters of 'unearned' joy(there is no such thing) and so try to destroy it by any means, up to and including attempted murder.
They just know that they have a feeling, that they can't stand me being happy and that it must end.
Thus the coughing and sneezing, the little old men in their twenties, and the boys of seventy.
They hate. They hate and that is all. They try not to realise that they hate joy, and are therefore devoted to death.

And this dressed as a brand of 'fairness', to protect their feeble pretence at 'goodness', stinking evil practised as a virtue.

Things in General

This is a mobile blog from in front of the telly, watching the Simpsons. Good episode, Bart in Moe's bar, they're all about to make fun of Burns. Drunks enjoying the discomfort of the ex-owner of the Nuclear plant.
Some of the old episodes are the best.
'Ooooh, the Germans!'
'Stop it Mister Burns....stop it....'

What Were They Thinking?

Copenhagen. What were they thinking? What are they thinking?
Never mind the creatures in the streets - uniform rebels conforming to the tyranny of loose-woven woolen hats, dreadlocks and nose piercings.

No. I mean the creatures inhabiting the conference halls. The so-called politicians.

I think I understand them.
You see, I grew up in the late sixties and seventies, so I remember how it was. These were the glory days, the days when politicians were permitted the illusion that they mattered, when the deluded media greedily sucked up every drop of spume-covered rubbish that these deficients uttered.
When Maggie came along in 1979, they didn't suspect. They thought she was promising a new flavour of the same game, and they rode the delusion to it's end, blaming her for the wake up call that left them naked and empty in front of a laughing populace.

Ever since, they have been resentful of us and longing for the previous golden age of crises, an age when the media game of communicating communiques from the terror groups elected to misrepresent us was the only game allowed, and they and their clients could live safe off the land with the fantasy of self-importance.
They longed to bring this all back.

And now they have. In Obama they have somebody who doesn't realise yet the game he is playing, somebody who is making it to the world stage with every fake fanfare that can be mustered, in the firm belief that he will deliver that harmonious tyranny which will trumpet the end of history and the beginning of a new brass age, where the little crooks can exploit their games to the bitter end and we can all go to hell.

But we are the truth.
And the truth is the first casualty of war, especially a war against humanity.

What Will The Neighbours Think?

By which I mean our interplanetary neighbours.
They will visit Earth in 50 years and find nothing but ruins. There will be no corpses. Nearly all the people will have marched dutifully to the extermination camps to "save the planet".

There won't be many people left; a few cave dwellers perhaps, more likely no people at all.
What will the visitors conclude?
They will examine the ruins and find that the world of Humans was destroyed by a fraud; it will be destroyed by the mixture of trust and lies, the poison that allows and ultimately creates all holocausts.
They will look at the mid twentieth century and see the monomental effort of moral expression that stopped the Nazis; the dogged determination that saw to it that the Soviet Union also collapsed, and they will conclude that the real perpetrators of these monstrosities were merely toying with the humans.
The humans failed to identify them and their evil accurately enough or often enough, and like the infinitely patient game-players they undoubtedly were, they just swallowed every truth, took every setback in their stride and put an arm around humanity's shoulder and led the dazed, tiring population from one illusion to the next, pausing to reveal themselves and their evil hatred only when some human of stature resisted too well.

At this stage, they could be seen. But the watchdogs of humanity were too incompetent to bark. Like dogs miaowing, they merely snorted and went back to somnolent staring, allowing the evildoers to manage yet another fait accomplit.
And around 2020, when it was found that there were just too many people, found by 'science', the absurdity of scientific socialism was suddenly standing before humanity, saliva dripping from its jaws, in a ruder health than it had ever been.

But this time no moral effort; the children had been destroyed in advance and made to believe that the lies were true, or that they were lies that couldn't be stopped.
Not all of us died voluntarily.
That's why there will be plenty of ruins.

The age of humanity is over.
Welcome to the new Hell.

Private What Now?

The 'Private Sector' is a piece of bullshit phraseology used everywhere a mainstream pundit dribbles over a keyboard or microphone.

There is NO 'private sector'.
There is the economy(the private sector), and there is the rest, the parasites, the people who live without living.

Any other sector exists by robbery of the 'private sector', which is the entire real economy.
Nothing else produces anything.

Star Wars 3

Star Wars the Return of The Jedi; had me weeping today. It's been a while, and seeing it again brought back all the hope and romance of the eighties.
This film series was the root of the cause that brought down communism, and less than ten years later, the scenes of jubilation were repeated for real everywhere except alien China. Truly there is nothing even remotely human about mainland China.

However, the version on TV tonight was 'revised'. A small change; David Prowse was removed from the final scene and replaced with the kid from the prequels.

Any airbrushing of history for any reason in a film of this sort is blasphemous, sacriledgious gerry-mandering.

I hope they are ashamed of themselves. If they aren't, then they are well on the way to the Dark Side.

Isn't Technology BRILLIANT!

This post comes to you courtesy of a brilliant device called a netbook.

Mine is an HP 2133 mini-note, which has been superceded by the 2140.
This means I bought a new Mini-note (RRP £360 ) for just £153 + £5 postage on e-bay. Hurry up while stocks last. They are a thing of beauty, and come complete with Gb Ethernet connection, camera, speakers, Wi-Fi and Bluetooth.

DO replace the SuSE Linux (poor) o/s with Ubuntu 9.10. It is free. All you need to do is boot from a flash drive with the 9.10 ISO file on, then let the installer do it's thing.

The hard drive is 120GB, so I have already loaded my entire music collection onto it and I'm listening as I type - 140 miles from my home network.

And this is the really crazy thing - I can see the screen better than I can my desktop, and that means no glasses needed. I can read it better than I can my phone even.