……..of the days when His Majesty’s Government and Parliament, with calm and, in the end, honesty, set its collective face against Appeasement, and set forth to defeat the German Nazi war machine with a Declaration of War.
A declaration of War, without the knowledge of how great an evil lay behind, and all around, the enemy it now would be fighting to defeat!
As of the date when the Rotherham Child Betrayal Report was first published, many millions of words have been published on this story of the complete betrayal of a generation of young, female, WHITE children who have lived, or rather existed, in towns and cities where Pakistani Muslim men, mainly from the Pashtun tribal regions of Kashmir, Bangladesh and Afghanistan have systematically raped, beaten, sexually exploited them, under cover of a self-satisfied horde of politicians, social workers and, worst of all; Police, who did absolutely nothing to rescue these girls from this hell-hole of a life. When the girls told their parents, and the parents complained, the Police told them that their daughters were just part of a bunch of white ‘slappers’, who deserved everything they got; and this was the opinion of the social bunch and the politicians as well!
It has taken one fearless woman, Professor Alexis Jay, to rip the veil, or should that be the niqab, from the slime which was the truth behind the Muslim peril which existed, and indeed still exists, just one small step away from the ever-so-righteous Muslims who parade in and out of the Rotherham, Rochdale, and Manchester mosques, as well as those in Luton and in many other towns and cities across this land which once spoke of itself as a free Country.
But we were warned that this sort of thing was happening; the gang-rapes, the fearsome brutality, the organised exploitation of White schoolgirls who had the great misfortune to be sent to a Council ‘Care Home’. We were warned ten years ago! But the problem was that, because the person who first made those warnings was not politically acceptable; was not accepted as being trustworthy, was in fact accused of criminal behaviour for uttering that very warning, his words and his warnings were rejected and ignored.
Who was that man?
When I wrote that short piece about ‘Freedom’, in which I quoted my own small post about the probabilities of the family of the dead ‘gentle giant’ Michael Brown generating a sanitised and fabricated ‘history’, I thought that we had probably heard all the news about the news; of the ‘family’s’ tales of a religious conversion, of visions in the sky, about all the self-serving sob stories destined to cover up the fact that this huge black man was a criminal, a bully and a braggart: and the fact that the police officer’s bullets were in fact fired as he had claimed, in pure self-defence.
But now, with the American Press being so free, under cover of their admirable Constitution, and demanding that the juvenile records of a probable 2nd degree murder charge be unsealed after his death, there may be a whole new chapter unfolding, with a few more nuggets of truth being unveiled into the harsh light of day.
Seems as though the ‘lovable rogue’, the ‘gentle giant’, the ‘candidate for at least beatification if not sainthood’, has turned out in the end to be just another in the never-ending statistic of black criminals as an ever-higher proportion of total crime in the black-dominated inner-suburbs and ghettoes of many American cities.
And are we all surprised?
H/T to Duff and Nonsense, whose comment upon my own post gave the link.
So there lives in a suburb of St. Louis, Missouri; a very large young(ish) black man. He is indeed a handful, and few in his ‘hood dare come up against him, mainly because he is so big. But, and of course it is a very large ‘but’, his ‘family’ has stated he was changing. According to his ‘family’ he had seen a vision, a vision of an angel, being pursued by Satan, but the angel sought protection in the clouds which were the features of God. He was said to be studying religion, and the Bible; and was said to be struggling with life’s mysteries. From being a big bully, a drug-user and petty criminal, his ‘family’ stated that he was turning his life around, as he had taken a picture of the sky, and told them that he ‘believed’; at least, this is what we are told by his ‘family’. He was known to be a ‘prankster’, and this I believe, because if you are big enough, and say you are just joking as you steal two boxes of cigars from a corner shop, and when the shop assistant protests, that assistant is slammed into a display stand; that is indeed a joke He was said to have a smile which endeared him to his neighbours, but these stories have strangely emerged some weeks after his death at the hands and bullets of a white policeman.
So, who do you believe, the words and memories of a huge black thug’s ‘family’ memories, of how he was just misunderstood, how he had, conveniently for those same memories, ‘found the Lord’, how he was just ‘joking’ when he punched a fellow black youth in the face, how he was a drug user and oh, I forgot, a ‘rapper’ who sang glowingly about his stepmother, but who also liked lyrics which ended ‘when the bodies hit the ground’: or do you believe the white policeman who wanted this hulking black man to get onto the pavement instead of swaggering down the centre of the road, and who, after being attacked by this extremely large and strong man, and suffering facial injury, was once again confronted by this six-foot four inches-tall black man, and shot him in self defence! If you believe the ‘family’, I reckon you will believe anything, inclusive of the CIA plot on 9/11, the ‘faked’ moon landings, and the fact that Jack Kennedy was a good man and a great politician, instead of a philandering liar and serial fool.
Oh, and as a simple explanation, it is oft asked why I place quotation marks such as those adjacent to the word ‘family’? I do this because I disbelieve the statements entirely, believing them to be purely self-serving embellishments, generated by groups who detest the very idea of black people being in the wrong at all; with absolutely no evidence of their being truthful at all!
When I hear the calls for retribution for the murder of a photographer in Iraq/Syria, when I read of the ‘hostages’ held by this group of psychopaths calling themselves ‘Islamic State’, I am certain of only one thing; these people, the hostages, the murdered man, they all brought their fate upon themselves.
Whatever their reasons, which range from ““Can you change your daughter, who has these values and has strong ideals about solidarity and human empathy?” or “I go to help the sick and injured” or “I report upon disaster” or any other of the silly and self-serving reasons which placed them in grave danger; they simply cannot state thet they were not warned. For whatever reason, they all went into the deadliest place, at least for Westerners, and they all got caught, or abducted or whatever. It serves them right for thinking that they knew better than anyone.
I am reminded of Alan Johnston, the ‘reporter’ and firm friend of all things Palestinian, who was kidnapped by those same Pallies, and only released because they were afraid he might actually bore them to death with his voice.
It is all very well saying ‘These actions, by these murderous men, are against civilised behaviour’, when everyone accepts that most of these terrorists, and probably all of their supporters, don’t accept Western values or behaviour at all. They think us decadent, they think us immoral, they think us foolish. So why even bother to help, when the helpers will no doubt be treated the same as they do to their other enemies and captives.
It is all very well for Lord Dannatt, he of the smart uniform and totally-closed mind, to state that British soldiers should go and fight in that sandy shit-hole; but I notice that he wasn’t volunteering his services.
As I stated before, they brought their fate upon themselves, and not a single bullet, nor a gallon of fuel, nor a drop of blood should be spilled by America or the United Kingdom to rescue the fools who knowingly went into Bedlam!
Maybe many thousands of people have ‘googled’ about the ignoble ‘Lord Rennard’ and his pervy dealings with at least four women (that number is based upon those who actually came forward); the laughable ‘enquiry’ pushed by the LibDems as the only way to shovel this particular pile of manure out of the room; and the truly shoddy manner in which the Party decided that they would be taking no further action.
Now I mentioned the term ‘googled’; but I wonder just how many people noticed that at the base of the first page of search results, if you look diligently, you will read this small line, placed to comply with a European Court of Justice ruling, which states:-
Some results may have been removed under data protection law in Europe. (my accents)
Now if people are sufficiently intrigued by this notice, as I have maybe stated previously, and institute an identical search on Google.com, you come up with this little gem, which of course gives one of these women’s words in full, as opposed to those blotted out in the original search. Words such as :-
Susan was sitting with seven female colleagues, including Jo Swinson, now the Minister for Women and Equality, enjoying a gin and tonic after dinner when Rennard ‘plonked himself down’ next to her.
‘Physically, I thought he was a fat, bald man who looked a bit sweaty, but he was very charming and seemed to listen,’ she says.
‘He started asking me questions about what my ambitions were and where I saw my future going. I told him I really wanted to be an MP. I thought: “This is a positive conversation to be having. I’m setting out my store as to who I am, what I believe in and where I see myself.”
‘And then his hand touched my knee.
‘I thought, “I’m imagining this” — so moved my leg away and carried on the conversation.
‘He moved closer and it happened again,’ says Susan, her pretty, heart-shaped face expressing genuine revulsion.
‘I shifted a little bit more and that exposed my back, because I was wearing a little pink top. He started stroking this bare bit of skin.
‘It was quite late and we had been drinking. I’d had a couple of glasses of wine with dinner and was on my second gin and tonic, but I was hardly throwing my legs in the air.
‘By that stage the person next to me had gone to bed, so I moved myself from one chair to another. It must have been half-elevenish. When I moved chairs, he moved chairs … and it started again.
‘I thought, “I don’t like this, I really don’t like this” so I finished my drink and said: “I’m off to bed.” He said: “I’ll walk up with you.”
‘I thought: “How do I get out of this?” So I said: “No, I’m going to go to the ladies first because I don’t think I’ll make it upstairs.”
‘I hid in there for about ten minutes, pacing up and down. When I thought he must have finished his drink and gone to bed, I started towards the stairs. It was this sort of winding staircase and he was standing at the bottom. He said: “I’ll walk you up.”
‘We got to the top of the staircase and he brushed my back again. I turned round and said: “I’m off to bed. Really nice to have had that conversation.”
‘He said: “No, no, no. Let’s get a couple more drinks and we’ll go to my room and we can discuss your future political career.”
‘My head at this point was just screaming: “No! No! Susan, what have you got yourself into?” I told him I was really tired and had to go to bed.
‘When I got into my room, that was when the tears started. I phoned my dad and said: “Dad, I think I’ve just wrecked my political career because I turned down Chris Rennard.”’
Now I, and maybe many others, will commence wondering who actually contacted that mighty Search Engine, and insisted that that link be scrubbed away from any results for Susan’s name in conjunction with the pervy, wriggling, nasty twit who goes by the name of Reennard?
And of course the second query is the one that counts. How many women will still work and vote for a bunch as lily-livered and compromised as the Lib-Dems surely are; especially after a decision such as this?