The day democracy died

Martin Webster (NF) and young friend...

Here they come, walking down the street, getting the funniest looks from everyone they meet. Hey! Hey! They're the Fascists!

Between writing the article below and publishing it... the following has occurred.

France votes for a Nazi Party ☀︎ The American Supreme Court votes for Presidential Dictatorship ☀︎ The festering presence of Faragist Fascists looms large ☀︎ The European Project virtually concedes defeat ☀︎ Democracy sidelined...

Like many others; Be they political pundits, commentators, vloggers, bloggers, YouTubers, the man on the street or the woman in the board room, I have fallen into the trap – The Farage Trap.

I have dismissed Nigel Farage as a rather grubby little racist, a part-time Hitler, a Poundland Powell or even re-imagined him as a 21^st Century Sir Roderick Spode! And, in my defence, it was fine to do so whilst he continued to merely snipe from the sidelines like the bullies little buddy that he so often seemed to be (the Richard Hammond of Politics, in fact). 

However, the time for the piss-taking and milkshake throwing should stop (no matter how amusing it might have been at the beginning). He is a very dangerous individual and his quasi-patriotic schtick is a neat distraction from the very sinister ideas he leaks into mainstream political discourse (Southern Water must marvel at his ability to seamlessly pollute the water with his bigotry suffused effluent and yet there is barely a condemning word from the ghouls of Fleet Street - in fact a couple of the TV groupies seem to be getting a tad moist at his ability to 'command an audience').

He is not a character, nor is he a jovial little Englander. Neither is he really “speaking out for true Britons” or speaking for the outsiders. He is a public school educated, banker, who cheats at Golf (as numerous witnesses at West Kent Golf Club will attest), had a long-standing affair with a political aide (according to Daily Mail) and his murky flirtation with the National Front in his youth still lurks in the unwritten truth of his life story. 

Stop the NF - Nigel Faragists!

Anyway. This isn’t about name-calling. Those days are gone. This is about fighting for the future. We must not allow them a foothold. Current polling predicts that Reform UK will win possibly 7 seats. We have a clear example from the past where we can see the impact of tiny parties on the edges of the conversation growing rapidly to take overall control.

Year	Total votes	Vote %	Seats %	Seats Won	House Total
1928	810,127	2.63%	2.44%	12	491
1930	6,379,672	18.25%	18.54%	107	577
1932	13,745,680	37.27%	37.83%	230	608
1932	11,737,021	33.09%	33.56%	196	584
1933	17,277,180	43.91%	44.51%	288	647
1933	39,655,224	92.11%	100.00%	661	661
1936	44,462,458	98.80%	100.00%	741	741
1938	44,451,092	99.08%	100.00%	813	813

So, we do not have an option. We must confront this threat at every turn. Through the power of our imagination, the force of our arguments and our commitment to building a brighter, better, more inclusive and vibrant country. We must not let the Faragists take a single step more towards power.  

Heaven help us all

And so, on the day we should be celebrating the departure of the blonde be-wigged Billy Bunter tribute act, we find out that his replacement is the anti-royalist, Liberal Democrat, Remainer, Conservative, Royalist, Brexiter Liz Truss, the stupid man's Margaret Thatcher. The Iron Lady? More like Tin Lizzy!

Day in the Life... (September 2020)

Midlight

-- The creature 

skitters in the eves.

Sleep is a luxury,

one we cannot

afford.

Somnambulants 

are on the move

--- Neighbours 

have informed

the Government.

Latest reports...

...  bleak outlook

broken spirit...

... banished souls

Torches supplied---

---- The book burning

will start at 8:00pm

attendance compulsory.

---Four hours until Midlight!

"No to decadence and moral corruption!" 

"Yes to decency and morality in family and state!"

"I consign to the flames the writings of

The Traitor Franks"

Perfidious Albion - #1

I've done well. I mean credit where credit is due. I've tried really hard to keep my part of the bargain, anyone can see that. The problem is, when I promised myself to commit to updating https://thethingsimissaboutengland.blogspot.com on a more regular basis. I challenged myself not to fly off the handle at the incompetence, laziness, ineptitude, brazen pilfering, backhand deals with dodgy Eton mates and comfy arrangement with coked-up/messed up city chums and demonic overseas backers. 

In fact, I swore to myself that I would not call out these feckless bunch of Neo-fascist chancers with their ghastly anti-immigrant stance and their divisive; smash the poor, starve the weak, kill the old and feed the rich policies. 

I also made sure I wouldn't draw attention to their numerous U-turns, vile distractions and abysmal solutions. 

I've done well. Unlike...

Sun-Tzu & The Art of Fucking Things Up - Part 4

Dr Stewart Pearson (AKA Dominic Cummings) is poised to spend more time skulking around the corridors of Westminster, despite being in contempt of Parliament. He even approached Jeremy Corbyn whilst swigging from a glass of wine and challenged him to allow the desired General Election to go ahead. HWSNBN reports...

"Cummings' rather unsubtle aim of bullying Parliament into an early election and thus allowing a 'Non-Aggression Pact' between Farage and Johnson to return a neo-fascist right-wing government. The premise being that the Labour, SNP, Lib-Dem, Change, Green and Independent Alliance will not be able to coalesce around a united no deal strategy... Kick out the One Nation Tories and replace them with Ein Volk, Ein Reich, Ein Übermensch Tories and mad-dog Brexiteers. Hardly the most subtle of strategies but one that is doomed to success unless... unless..."

And so, the message is very clear. There are no rules, no etiquette, no sense of justice or fair play any more. Just because we are currently having fun at Johnson's expense, don't think for one second they are taking their eye off the biggest prize at all.

A new Britain - unlike anything we've ever known. 

The only good thing about a Fascist Coup - The resistance!

ⓒ2019 Reproduced by kind permission of 'Who gives a F'

Martial Law

And so, the beginning of the end has arrived...

The four deliveroo riders of the apocalypse have picked up their orders and are heading our way. Don't think that Johnson and his KKKrew of elites are going to stop here. Close down Parliament, the monarchy happy to acquiesce, next stop shut down the BBC. Murdoch will happily spread the bad news. The internet will only be utilised to disseminate more lies. Outbreaks of unrest will lead to arrests, civil disobedience will drive the army onto the streets. This is what they have been training and bred for. 

This is their destiny - This is our fate!

Well, what did you really expect?

I am English, I loved England & everything about it but...

The ironic thing about this blog is that when I first moved to Australia, my homesickness manifested itself in a number if rather alarming ways that I now shudder at. I would blithely wear English sporting attire at any opportunity (well, our cricket team was better then - although Joffra Archer's wonderful performance at Lords might suggest better things are still to come). I would openly display a Union flag and felt compelled to pick holes in my current circumstances and compare everything unfavourably to 'back home'. 

This was partly triggered by the sense of displacement I felt but equally it was a response to the the local Australian pride in their own  country. As time passed on, I would head back to the UK ostensibly to 'work' but more often than not, just to stock up on all the invaluable items I could not purchase in Sydney. Including (in no particular order of preference: Fred Perry t-shirts, Trickers Brogues, Marmite, John Smedley, decent selvedge Levis...). Sure there were a few quirky aspects that made me uncomfortable but I could even (very vaguely) tolerate those funny but obviously mad little Englander types like that odious little twerp Farage (rhymes with Garage) and that blithering buffoon Johnson. Only be cause they were harmless idiots! 

I am English, I loved England and everything about it!

But then...

A pack of lies, Russian influence, neo-con posturing, talk of Project Fear, the supine leadership of another Etonian dimwit Cameron, the ghastly horror of Prime Minister May the walking mothball, a misguided and lazy Labour opposition and now Britain finds itself staring down the barrel of abject disaster and humiliation. No deal = no medicine, food shortages, fuel shortages, port blockades, civil disobedience etc etc. This will be followed by a hard border for Northern Ireland, the return of the troubles (a few unsettled scores there), Scottish independence.... None of which is fantasy any more. 

We have the most right-wing government in Britain's history. We have two openly extremist political parties in the Brexit Party and UKIP. The members of whom actively share platforms with various Neo-Nazi groups including but not exclusive to the holocaust denying AfD of Germany... The sight of Anne Widdecombe and the rest of the Brexit Party turning their back on the European Union anthem is the most soul-destroying thing I have ever witnessed (and don't forget I once sat through a Tears for Fears gig, so I've suffered)! Ok, that is me being trite and frivolous... 

The prospect of martial law being imposed after the 31st October however is decidedly not funny and a real prospect. The fact that this scenario was given legitimate credence by of all things the Brexit championing The Sun might not mean it is true but does suggest it is on the agenda. Martial Law in Britain? Soldiers on the streets to stop riots and looting, where does it end?... Truly the stuff of a far-fetched dystopian nightmare. 

I am English, I loved England and everything about it!

But now...

I am English, I loved England and I am now aghast, horrified and feel utterly betrayed.

The Eton Mess - A recipe (for disaster)

The Bullingdon Club

The government of the people, for the minority, by the elite! 

The Eton Rifles

They are coming for you...

Hiding in plain sight (or ‘You always used to be able to spot a Nazi ‘cos he wore a badge’)

When I was 14 (back in 1976) one of the boys in our year suddenly started bringing in copies of ‘Bulldog’ the National Front’s newspaper. Bulldog, for the uninitiated was a combination of jaundiced articles, vile rants, badly drawn cartoons, recruitment advertising and requests for money to fight the scourge of Bolshevism and anybody else the latest group of British Fascists hated. The National Front, a fundamentally racist entity, had been recruiting at English football grounds from the early 70’s, with quite alarming success. 

The disaffected young white male population gravitated towards the Front with undue haste. Barely a decade after the summer of love/height of the swinging 60’s, the UK had crumbled into a bitterly divided nation. A class war had erupted in the shape of the struggle between the miners and the government. The 3-day week and recession helped incubate resentment. And whilst the wealthy remained untouched, the white unemployed populace looked for someone to blame and the National Front found plenty of scapegoats for their rage… West Indian, Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, African and Jewish communities were targeted and violence was never far away. 

Eastbourne, sleepy old Eastbourne, the sun trap of the south and home to the largest collection of white over 65’s in Europe at that time hardly seemed a relevant recruiting ground for the NF. There were less than 20 BAME families in the town at the time and there was hardly anything to suggest that the situation would change. But the NF continued to peddle their ‘truths’and they went on a recruitment drive to turn the rather weedy youth of the town into some kind of elite Freikorps. A rather simple strategy of identifying the intellectually immature but physically intimidating was the way forward. And so, it came to pass that our school got its very own playground brownshirt – NaziBoy!

It began with a badge. Badges being quite high on the teen boys currency list. A little NF badge, if you were none the wiser, might seem like just another band badge – white red & black. The badge provoked interest and provoked a conversation or two. The recruitment process had begun. After the badge, some stickers. They’d start appearing on bus shelters, in the school toilets, on desks and noticeboards. The message was simple “PAKIS GO HOME”. The message was repetitive. The message was of course, repulsive!

The follow up was then the newspaper. ‘Bulldog’ full to the brim with odious, ill-concealed racist rhetoric left the reader in no doubt who was to blame and what should be done. Terrace humour mixed with a mangled manifesto hewn from off cuts of Enoch Powell’s ‘rivers of blood’ speech. Battle-lines had been drawn.

Fortunately, to the eternal credit of all but two of my classmates, the message was received, understood and swiftly rejected. Membership of the Anti-Nazi League/Rock against Racism skyrocketed and robust debates were had on every bus home, the untruths were confronted at each and every turn. Admittedly the significant shoeing that was meted out to NaziBoy helped to sway any of the undecided. 

The point of sharing this little snapshot of a political awakening on the South Coast of England is twofold:

1)   Recognition of my schoolmates who swiftly and rigorously rejected the doctrine that NaziBoy had been championed with spreading.

2)   To also recognise that it was easy to confront such an obvious affront to common decency because the tactic of playground recruiting was so route one.

The problem of course now is that, the same enemy has become far more sophisticated in their branding, message and approach. Route one is no longer viable, these tricky fuckers are far more subtle. The use of well-worn tropes is still happening, not least because the rebuttal portals are no longer geared up to respond. The significant leap to the right by media houses has left rigour and context trailing behind all those chasing clicks. The various techniques and approaches to get people on their own (the digital equivalent of getting somebody round the back of the back sheds and threatening them with a right kicking) are so marvellously subtle thanks to targeted EDM’s, FB Posts etc.

What I’m trying to say is that the bastards aren’t wearing badges anymore and it makes it easy for the weak and embittered to join the slipstream of hate… 

It is our duty to call them all out. Every single one of them, every single time. If we don’t before you know it, NaziBoy and his chums will not only run the playground, they’ll own the whole damned country!

"Politics doesn't affect me" #3

What then? When!

When they start charging you £80 for a prescription. £100 for a Doctor's visit...
When the smell from the plague pits starts to interfere with the Sunday bbq...
When the private health 'funds' deny treatment to "whoever we decide"...
When the only doctors and nurses left refuse to work pro-bono...
When the latest antidote is only available to gold card members...
When they refuse to take on patients with high blood pressure...
When they deny those with a family history of cancer, anxiety...
or
When quarantine stations will only accept MasterCard...
When the new flu strain sweeps across Southern Asia...
When they kick your parents out of their care home...
When your child can't get a hospital bed...
When antibiotics stop working...
When botox blisters burst...
When small pox returns...

What then? When!

©Andrew Franks - Soul Bay Pres - June 2019

"Politics doesn't affect me" - #2

Take the not inconsiderable issue of racism. Whether it is the time honoured tactic of fear-mongering, be it the sinister musings of Enoch Powell's 'Rivers of Blood' speech to the laughable but no less ghastly ramblings of Billy-Bunter-come-lately Boris Johnson. They all seek to serve the same end. 

Divide the working people and then divide the profits amongst the ruling class. Point out the differences, scaremonger and watch the powerless turn on themselves, whilst the powerful reap the benefits. Of course the prime exponent of this is the current resident of the White House...

It is no longer acceptable or appropriate to do nothing. Doing nothing is not allowed any more. You must revel in rebellion. It doesn't mean taking up arms, although the occasional Strawberry Milkshake does seem to be the mode of expression du jour. But whatever you do, you cannot do nothing. 

Put simply if you don't actively condemn you passively condone! 

When we were in Europe...

Heaven help us all

Poll Results - What should you do if a friend suggests they might vote UKIP?

1. Shoot the f------

2. Disown them

3. Seek Medical help

A very considered and well mannered response from you all. Thank you.

From Black Cats to Black Shirts?

Standing up to Fascists

A consistent world view of England is one of profound conservatism, whether it be in the kitchen (Sausage, Egg & Chips please love), in the bedroom (I’m not taking my socks off for anyone, especially you Ms Von Teese), on the playing field (England will line up in their traditional 4-4-2 formation tonight) or even in the parallel political realm of the ghastly Daily Mail (I’m not letting Johnny Foreigner tell me how long my Cucumber should be). This view, along with hundreds of other examples to support it suggests that the traditional English psyche leans so far to the right that an acceptance of some of the ‘more palatable aspects*’ of extreme right wing ideology might be comfortably absorbed without murmur into everyday English life.

That, thankfully, is invariably not the case. From the Battle of Cable Street, which saw Moseley’s Blackshirts roundly dispatched and the more recent Battle of Barking, through the numerous counter fascist actions of the ANL and Rock Against Racism, the ‘Kick it out’ Campaign in football and the equally admirable ‘Hit racism for Six’ Campaign in cricket. Time and time again the English people have taken affirmative action against those hiding behind the blustering cowardly façade of fascist doctrine. The most recent action has been in response to the appointment by Sunderland AFC of self-confessed fascist sympathizer/supporter/apologist/football manager Paulo Di Canio.

Di Canio, when interviewed in 2005 offered a bizarre take on the by now worryingly traditional “I’m not Racist, but…” statement, by following it up with “…I am a Fascist”. As if by denying a racist element to his persona he was somehow justified in his extreme political position. However, a collective hotchpotch of the Dean of Durham, David Milliband (not a renowned notorious Trotskyite firebrand) and various local Unions (including the Wearmouth Miners) with a long tradition of fighting fascism in all its various guises (even Prada suited ones) have come out and vociferously challenged Di Canio to state his position, clearly and unequivocally. However, the most refreshing challenge to Benito (sic) Di Canio has come from unaligned Englishmen and Englishwomen who have expressed their contempt for his political position.

Of course, it isn’t all good news. A number of Sunderland fans have expressed the view that politics has no place in football or even worse that it is (with a deep sigh) “Political correctness gone mad”. Political correctness!! To be seen not to support somebody whose views directly supported that of one of the 20^th century’s biggest mass murderers?

As John Arlott, the great cricket commentator and poet so rightly said; “Politics governs everything we do - the games we play, the way we play them, who we play.”
He also said that; “Say that cricket has nothing to do with politics and you say that cricket has nothing to do with life”. A different sport but without doubt the same principle.

Unfortunately such a view isn’t held by all and rather surprisingly amongst them is renowned anti-racist activist, style icon and past his sell by date centre back Rio Ferdinand (Manchester Utd & Al-Jazeera FC) comes down on the side of DI Canio. Ferdinand tweeted: “why has a paper brought out a quote from years ago to try + derail Di Canio?? Lazy journalism again. I wish him good luck in the PL. Simple.” Lazy journalism? To pinpoint that someone in a leading role in English football has expressed fascist sympathies? Obviously Ferdinand has got very high standards when it comes to journalism. I can imagine him tweeting something equally pithy about John Terry in years to come. 

Anyway, moving on… To my mind another question the whole episode raises is why was it somehow acceptable for him to be the Fascist manager of Swindon Town but not acceptable to be the Fascist Manager of Sunderland? Swindon could by no means be regarded as the hotbed of leftist revolution (despite it being a railway town and having a large post WW2 ex-pat Polish community – who more than most would be aware of the impact of Fascism) but surely the anger Di Canio’s appointment has given rise to, should have grown much louder before he became head honcho of a Premier League club…

Oh hang on! Did you see what happened there? The scales just dropped from my eyes. It would seem that being a Fascist Manager of a Div 1 club is acceptable but when the spectre of sponsors looms large then it is time to ‘fess up Il Duce and renounce your squalid political past for a slice of the honey soaked loveliness of the Premier League. Mind you if Di Canio took over as a manager in some other European leagues he’d most probably be denounced as a namby-pamby liberal wet and would receive a fine from UEFA for not clicking his heels at the same time as saluting the Ultras!

And so, once again football takes another step further into the wilderness. The World Game™ it may well be but perhaps it is no longer a world I care for. Until Di Canio properly denounces his fascist past and actively works against the creeping influence it has in the local community he should be roundly and repeatedly challenged and criticized for his stance. And until he does that Sunderland FC should be equally challenged for appointing a man with such abhorrent views.

What if he does just that? Should he be forgiven? Well, yes he should. But it should never be forgotten. We have seen many examples of the re-writing of history (by no means just a fascist trait) and the lessons of life lost therein. But perhaps I am getting ahead of myself once again. Let him take the first positive step and let him renounce his past stated position unequivocally before getting on with the matter in hand – namely telling eleven professional footballers where to stand and where and when to kick the ball!

 

*By the way there is no such thing as a palatable aspect of fascism.

AA v RAC

When I was younger, so much younger than today.... Yellow badge v Blue Badge. What were the differences? I always assumed that the RAC was for Toffs and AA for Oiks.

Having just typed in 'RAC salute', I have found a rather clearer differentiation.