‘containers must hold no more than 100ml’

I travelled down to Stansted to meet up with my eldest grandson, who had travelled up from the South-east segment of London with his Dad and Mum so I could catch up with how much I had missed since last seeing him at Christmas. The journeys back and forth were routine, and of course short; my time with my son and my grandson was limited because of the need to return to the airport early: but it was a magic time for a thoroughly-chuffed Grandad.

The magic time was diluted by the ritual humiliation doled out in generous quantities by the Dept. Transport’s Airport Security Gestapo, all of whose employees have been taught to ignore the common English words such as ‘Please’, instead relying on a imperious beckoning of a bent hand to signify that the culprit should walk through the ceremonial  punishment arch (metal detector); after which you are subjected to a pat-down search which came pretty close, in my case anyway, to being a classic case of common assault. If the prospective traveller says anything at all to respond to this gross invasion of privacy and personal space, you are immediately accused of ‘interfering with a lawful search’ and in danger of not only missing your flight, but of actually being detained by this bunch of out-of-uniform Nazi stormtroopers.

A level of security is necessary, when it is known that the murderous fanatics would have murdered their own families as a ‘price worth paying’ to smuggle their explosives on board the target aircraft; but one does have to ask the simple question, ‘How many 74-year-old white Geordie-born bearded Grandfathers have actually been discovered making plans to murder a plane-load of strangers’?

It wasn’t considered appropriate!

As I was busy looking at other things on the busy days of May 6th, 7th & 8th; some news items apart from the General Election, more important than others, got missed. So, going back over the acres of newsprint as I looked back just over a fortnight ago, I spotted this item with specific reference to the travails of the forgotten 1400 white girls who were targeted by Muslim rape gangs in Rotherham, and of course who were also so badly served by those who were supposed to protect them.

It may surprise some who read blogs such as this, that the criminally-lax procedures by Rotherham social services alongside the politically-correct Rotherham Police, were not only foreseen but forewarned at least eight years ago. But the man who spoke those prophetic words was not being thanked for raising the profile of those young girls who were so badly betrayed by both the police as well as Social Services, he was being hauled into court on charges that he incited racial hatred. The Party which this man represented was the BNP, a bunch of maverick racists by some accounts, and by others as the inheritors of the Nazi Party of Hitler’s Germany. But what may have happened if, instead of concentrating upon the colour of a man’s skin, the BNP had concentrated upon what was actually occurring as a direct result of the massive influx of Muslims into our Society? Did the speaker state anything which was not true? Did he state anything which has not come to pass? The answer to both those questions is, of course, ‘No he did not!’

When the SNP heavies were flexing their muscles in the Referendum, they found that they could attack their opponents physically, and get away with it. The General Election in Scotland was plagued with reports similar to that which occurred during the Referendum, with Scottish Labour being drowned out by SNP muscle and noise, in a nasty, bullying manner which departs from the usual calm of a British election; mainly because the police stayed well away from any confrontation; probably because the Police Scotland upper echelon has a great deal of sympathy for the SNP.  We saw similar attacks on Democracy in Tower Hamlets, but fortunately four brave men stood up, and Lutfur Rahman was brought down.

I would end this small diatribe by recalling a Hustings meeting in Durham City some five-odd years ago before the 2010 Elections. I wrote about it at the time, and one small sentence has stayed in my memory. When I asked why the BNP candidate had not received an invitation, and had therefore been excluded from the proceedings, I was rewarded with an even thinner smile, and the answer, “It wasn’t considered appropriate.”.

Please note that I am not attempting to ‘whitewash’ (Pun fully intended) the BNP; but I would like our badly-battered Political system to accept that, as they are a legal Party, and that they have as much right as any to place their point of view before an audience; notwithstanding the fascist Left’s attempts to muzzle them.

Tell it like it is.

You will feel sorry if a complete stranger commits suicide by stepping in front of a seven-hundred ton train moving at 95 m.p.h., even if his self-serving death impacts on your life only through a delay to your travel plans.

You are not allowed to state your mind, if you are of the belief that the suicide didn’t want to live any more, to voice this opinion, in public, as this statement may well offend others.

If a complete stranger does commit suicide, you are not allowed to voice any opinion contrary to the majority ‘progressive’ view, which is that we all must instantly ‘understand’ the pressures which forced this person into ending his or her own life; even if this suicidal death was purely selfish, and would have been, if the law had not been altered, a criminal act!

Signed

Gruppenfuhrer Harman

Reichsleiter Sturgeon

ReichsChancellor Cameron

Repeated? True; but worth the read!

One of the foremost pivotal points in the history of Great Britain was the semi-miraculous recovery of 338,226 British and Free French soldiers from the beaches, moles and bombed and smoking piers of Dunkirk harbour in late May and early June 1940 . The leaders of a stricken Britain had attempted, hopelessly they thought; to rescue the shattered remnants of a beaten British Expeditionary Force  before they were either killed or made prisoner of the Nazi Wehrmacht. Under orders, two French Divisions remained behind to cover the evacuation, they were all either taken prisoner or killed. The hundreds of small ships, cabin cruisers, skiffs, launches, even a lumbering Thames barge, they were all marshalled by the Royal Navy; some came crewed by owners, many had volunteers at their helms. They came from all over, they motored across the Channel, guided by the larger vessels.

aDunkirk 2,0The soldiers, those tens of thousands of desperate men of a beaten B.E.F., saw a strange sight as they climbed over the Dunkirk dunes. They saw long lines of patient soldiers which stretched out over the shallow waters, ending at a point which was established by the simple measurement of how deep a man’s body could be immersed in water before he lost his footing and floated away. There the small ships sailed in, loaded their human cargo, most of whom still carried their weaponry, which was then ferried out to the larger ships which stood in deeper water. When they were loaded, the larger ships headed for Dover and freedom, the ‘Small Ships’ returned to find more and ever more from those long, wet, patient lines of soldiers. Destroyers came to moor at the harbour piers to rescue even more of those men who thought that they had been forgotten, some of those same destroyers were sunk by German bombs, but more survived and made that perilous trip. The ‘Small Ships’ made history in those nine days; nine days which transformed a defeat into the strangest of victories. Some of those same ‘Small Ships’ were themselves destroyed, but most made it back to England’s shores, the same as those soldiers;  to fight again and eventually to hear the solemn words of victory after the signing of the Surrender documents at Luneberg Heath.

Operation Dynamo was not a victory; a nation does not and cannot celebrate the total retreat and transfer of a vanquished Army; but it can be represented as the point in our Nation’s history when, through a combination of luck, diligence, sheer guts and bravery; over three hundred thousand beaten, but strangely enough not demoralised, soldiers were rescued from what should have been a ‘killing ground’ by the ‘small ships’, the yachts, cabin cruisers, pleasure steamers who ferried the sodden remnants of the British Expeditionary Force either to the decks of the destroyers, or to the quaysides and dry land of Dover. Some believe that Hitler stayed his Panzers from the final attacks which surely would have bulldozed the beaten British Army into either annihilation or mass surrender; but I believe that the little-remembered Battle of Arras, where the stubborn resistance of British bayonets and a few tanks worried the junior Wehrmacht commanders so much that the attack was slowed until reinforcements arrived. Whichever the truth, the Army survived, the experienced soldiery formed the basis of the new Regiments; and we went forwards with our Empire allies and later the Americans and the Russians, to final victory.

I am not, these days, a religious man; but it is quite acceptable to believe that a ‘Higher Power’ either governed or intervened in the thinking of a few very senior officers of the Royal Navy, which gave them  impetus to state to Winston Churchill that the rescue was not only possible, but vital to the survival of the Nation!

aDunkirk_Jack

Fairs fair!

‘Troubled’ footballer wins equivalent of 2009 X 10kg kegs of Stella.

States, “I deserved it, my Piracy, sorry my Priority; no, that should have been Privacy was  disturbed, and I feel rectified, or summat similar; like, Hawaaay the Lads: have another one; Man! .”

Band-wagon scramblers, dozens of whom have never been heard of before, tell how devastated they were not to be included in phone-hacking stories.

The Labour Party, vociferous in their condemnation of Murcoch’s News of the World’s hacking exploits, remain strangely silent on the Mirror’s exploits.

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Disinfectant container found empty, Palace denies Prince washed hands seventy-five times.

My Sovereign Lady Elizabeth 2nd., Queen of Great Britain and Northern Ireland is a Constitutional Monarch. She has met many, many unsavoury figures in the sixty-odd years in her post, and has welcomed them on behalf of Her Governments. Meeting and greeting these vicious murderous demagogues is part of her job description; and unfortunately for her, she cannot discriminate between a Ceaucescu in 1978, the Bahreini King, fresh from washing all the F1 demonstrators’ blood off his shoes, and a McGuiness in 2012.

However, her son and heir, Charles, does not have the same need to greet, welcome, or indeed shake hands with acknowledged scum as a demonstration of anything, whether it is ‘good-will’, forgiveness, political expediency, or indeed absentminded good manners.

The political bunch who engineered this unsavoury ‘meet-and-greet’ must be congratulating themselves on a job well done. I only wish that Charles had asserted his right to throw his tea over the man who had gloated over the murder of Earl Mountbatten, his godfather; his uncle, a naval hero, Problem is, he is probably too well-mannered to do anything which may have rocked the leaky boat christened the ‘Peace Process’.

Writing as an Englishman, and as one who firmly believes that the only place for murderers and terrorists is being the main component in a pile of cremated ashes, I know what greeting I would make to one who may not have pressed the remote which triggered the explosion, but who certainly knew and approved of that murderous act! I don’t believe in  a watered-down Justice, I believe in retribution, in revenge, and in the decimation of my country’s enemies; wherever they may be found.