PARIS, CITY OF RIOTS

 

A piece of mine from Taki's Magazine in December of last year. Paris is a busy city...

 

The 1942 movie Casablanca is the cinematic version of Shakespeare’s Hamlet, which a Victorian woman reportedly disliked because she found it “full of clichés”. It ought not to be legal to be unable to recite at least one of Bogart’s lines as suave restaurateur Rick Blaine, and my personal favorite is when the radiant Ilsa Lund, played famously by Ingrid Bergman, reminds Rick of the couple’s dalliance in Paris as the Wehrmacht marched in. He replies;

“I remember every detail. The Germans wore grey. You wore blue”.

It is not his only comment on the City of Love in the movie, as he adds, “We’ll always have Paris”. Don’t be too sure, Mister Rick.

Paris goes by many names, one being the City of Lights, and if you wanted to see France’s capital all lit up, you should have been there over Christmas. On December 23, a man allegedly 69 years old, white, French and with a self-confessed dislike for foreigners, walked into a Kurdish cultural center in the heavily immigrant 10^th arrondissement and shot three Kurds dead, wounding three others.

Now, Paris is not Chicago, it's not even Kosovo, and this type of shooting is a rarity. But the response was not the comparatively mawkish displays in the UK or USA, whereby candles and teddy-bears are placed at the site of the latest tragedy. Instead, Paris’s Kurdish community rioted so hard they made the BLM chaos in 2020 look like a dorm pillow-fight.

By Boxing Day, when the cars were all burned out and the testosterone had worn off, the protests were solemn and processional, accompanied by haunting, threnodic music. (Oh, and of course another staggering tax bill for Parisians to clear the debris). Framed photographs of the dead were held up at the head of the gloomy marchers. It was strangely moving.

Then the rioting started again, protesters using metal bars to smash the boulevards in order to provide missiles to throw at the police. Torched cars, tear gas, police charges, batons. I wonder if any old soixante huitards, veterans of the 1968 student riots in Paris (and elsewhere) that almost brought down de Gaulle’s government, looked on at the carnage with misty-eyed nostalgia and thought, whatever else these Kurds are good at, their rioting is top-notch.

The Kurdish people are the largest stateless population in the world, and Kurdistan is a theoretical jigsaw-puzzle, some of which has its autonomy recognized, some of which does not. It seems that everyone just forgot, in the general hubbub of the 20^th century’s World Wars, to create Kurdistan, which these enforced nomads have been looking for ever since. But they have a formidable and ruthless enemy in Turkey.

The response of the latter to the Parisian rioting was informative, as Ankara summoned the French Ambassador, not to ask whether there was anything they could do to help, what with their roguish but lovable neighbors having just burnt down the 10^th arrondissement, but to express concern at some of the flags flown, and social media comments made about the shooting.

The Turkish deep state – everyone’s got one these days – despise Kurds, and particularly the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK). To be fair, they have a point, PKK flags being bright red and featuring in one corner a rather clever symbol composed of a yellow hammer and sickle which may be familiar to you. They were conspicuous in Paris. The PKK are also proscribed worldwide as a terrorist organization – a point to which we will return - but at what stage did a Muslim country in the Asiatics get to tell France who can and cannot march in their streets? Around the same time China opened police stations to look for dissidents in the Americas, I guess.

The PKK are not Commie LARPers. They are a proscribed terrorist organization banned across the EU, the US, ah, forget about it. It’s easier to say where they aren’t banned. North Korea or Cuba would probably buy them a beer, but the latest Global Terrorism Index hardly puts them in the big league. So why the blanket ban? Well, the Index is produced by The Institute of Economics and Peace, which is a branch of the European Union, which is de facto run by Germany, which has always appeased Turkey. So perhaps the Turks forced the ban but kept the PKK out of the papers to avoid giving them publicity. Just a thought.

Also, comments were made in the idiot’s agora of social media implying that Turkey was behind the Parisian shooting. An awful lot of logistics, that, just to whack out three Kurds 1,700 miles away from Istanbul, and the authorities are sticking with the line that the suspect is a crazed Frenchman who had been released from jail after a saber attack on a migrant camp. Reuters attempted to contact the suspect’s lawyers but without success. Now, that is odd. Western governments are so keen for right-wing extremist killers to exist that, when they actually do, their face and history are on the news 24/7. But it’s all gone a bit quiet, and the question remains; who killed the Kurds?

The Turks get all their news from state-run news provider Anadolu Agency, essentially Pravda with a fez, and their anti-Kurd response is to be expected. But the European media are being coy about this whole affair. They don’t want to annoy anyone, as in anyone. One thing that even the media can’t smokescreen, however, is that Paris is no longer the City of Lights but the City of Riots. And that will hurt more as rioting becomes the new soccer.

Paris famously empties of Parisians in August as they head south to the famous resorts of Nice, Cannes, Juan les Pins. But if riot season now starts at Christmas, by summer some of those escaping gay Paree won’t be coming back. White flight works to the same principle throughout the West. Worse for Paris, much as the media and the tourism lobby will try to minimize footage of daily rioting, tourists foreign or domestic just will not visit a war zone. “Hey honey, how about Paris in the spring?” “Sure, cheri. You get a Guide Michelin map, I’ll see to the Kevlar body-armor”.

Whether the Kurd-killer was a crank or a Turkish emissary, the Kurdish community blamed the French for failing to protect their people. Really? Perhaps sir and his wives would like 24/7 personal security? Leave it once again to the French tax-payer, allez! What becomes clearer with each of these internecine disputes – be the killer a racist nutjob or a Turkish hitman – is that when countries import sectarian religions, they also import either the strife that goes with it or a whole new civil war. Then it’s their problem.

Paris might want to think about lines not from Casablanca but Dickens’ famous opening to A Tale of Two Cities, set in London and Paris;

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”.

One or the other. You can’t have both.

GO GET ‘EM, POPEYE

 

Ack ack ack!

 

I am a third or so through the English Medieval poem Beowulf, which I seem to have avoided at school (along with much else). It’s a rip-roaring read, too, rendered in half-prose, half-poetry whose metricality drops in and out like a half-heard rhythm. The opening scenes also feature a lot of tough talk and his Beowulf and his crew big up themselves before handing out a career-ending beating to the giant Grendel.

Of course, you want tough guys to fight psychotic giants, accept nothing less. And Medieval berserkers didn’t have CVs or resumés, and so would undoubtedly be eager to tell the tale of the last dragon they dismembered. But while I was pursuing my Medieval studies, I happened to see a video – along with 18 million other people – of Democratic Presidential candidate Robert F Kennedy Jr. working out in his yard. He certainly is a buff man for 69 years old. He could have been one of Beowulf’s posse.

Does the state of a candidate’s physique indicate he is worth your vote? It did Arnold Schwarzenegger no harm, and the Western media who scoffed at Vladimir Putin’s photoshoot from a few years ago, which showed him shirtless on a sturdy Russian steed, might compare him to the almost literal doughboy Boris Johnson.

This is, of course, a time in which the white Western alpha male has all but been run out of town, but Kennedy’s people – unless he went rogue and came up with the optics himself – may be on to something by airing the primaries with some testosterone.

Also, Kennedy is singing from a different hymn sheet to his Democrat colleagues. Skepticism of the Covid vaccine is still a grand heresy, and it might be a good thing if Kennedy smuggles in some genuine political substance rather than Biden’s illusory belief-system. Go get ‘em, Popeye.

THE FIRST AND LAST CASUALTY

 

It has been fashionable in some circles in recent times to talk of the ‘post-truth society’. Epistemologically, that falls at the first hurdle as the invocation of such a society would require us to take its existence as a truth, thereby nullifying its validity, but that – to quote the poet Shelley – is a tale for the long winter nights.

Truth is also, famously, the first casualty of war, gunned down as it leaps out of the trench to death. It certainly caught the first volley of the war in Ukraine, where the story of battle swirls around like a dust storm, with small, momentarily appealing truths flashing by to be grabbed at and caught.

As I clamber over the trash-mounds of the media, I read that Putin is finished and that he has only just started. I find that the Russian economy is teetering on the brink of annihilation and also that it is a powerhouse, out-performing its NATO enemies due to increased oil revenue. Apparently, this is both an unwinnable war and one Putin had won from the start. It’s like the board game Scrabble; you wait to see what letters you pick blind, then you try and make an intelligible, legitimate word from them.

Now, a rebellion that lasted for far less time than a cricket test match. Is this psy-ops by Putin, or did one of the – surely unstable – mercenaries earning the Czar’s shilling really come swashbuckling his way almost to Moscow? Were the Western media supposed to get the message that the calculating, chess-playing, judo brown-belt Vladimir Putin is a better bet with the nuclear codes than a man who commands drunken battalions for money from whomever will pay him for his time and violence.

Trouble anywhere in the Balkans usually bodes ill for Europe, and with the added involvement of NATO, we must now be seeing a proxy war. I must look out the definition. If definition is still operation, that is.

AGAINST NATURE

 

 

A British school teacher was recently caught on audiotape telling two female students that their view of sex and gender – that there were only two of each – was bigoted. ‘Bigotry’ is an unshakeable adherence to an idea or opinion, and you might be hard-pressed to find a better definition of nature.

You may throw nature out with a pitchfork, Horace famously wrote in the Epistles, but she will always come back. Nature is a reference grid, a matrix, a pantheistic yardstick, a preset calibration against which we can measure and compare such things as morphology and normative behaviour. Once you apply your pitchfork, Horace would say that it was just a matter of time before nature re-equilibriates, but there is a new generation of genuine influencers – not the worthless, low-IQ internet kind but the ones who teach children – who refuse to countenance this return.

This is a very strange time to be alive. State-sanctioned curation of the truth is not new, the Communists made a science out of it, but the sternest, most brutal despots never told their people that women could be men on a whim and must be respected as such on pain of punishment. Taking the fight to the epistemological is a new angle, and is of course the meaning of the torture scene at the end of 1984, In which it is not O’Brien’s aim to force Winston to say he sees five fingers where there are four, he is not after mere token acquiescence. He wants Winston actually to see five fingers.

What this new epistemological environment means for intelligent children is all too clear. Punished for expressing biological truths, they will soon learn that they cannot advance without agreeing to a whole new load of terms and conditions, ones that apply not to buying a phone but to life in general.

If you have no final arbiter for what is and is not true in the world, an epistemological guarantee, then you a in a weightless arena with nothing to grasp and ground yourself. Once one natural category is disregarded, the others are equally vulnerable.

 

MAKE CLASSICS GREAT AGAIN

 

 

There is a piece of mine here at Counter Currents on Aristotle’s Rhetoric. The introduction discusses the opinion of Donna Zuckerberg, sister of Mark, and her fears that white men – ‘the worst men on the internet’ – will be attracted to the classics and try to make them great again. As I say in the piece, there was never a time when the classics were not great. Ms Zuckerberg has confused the intellectual worth of something with its market value. I suppose it must run in the family.

Classical literature has been around in its extant entirety since the Renaissance. It hasn’t just popped up like Harry Potter or Star Wars. It requires a certain approach, being neither beach reading nor a genre requiring knowledge of philosophy. It is humanistic, Plato’s theology notwithstanding, and presumably this explains its popularity during and shaping of the Renaissance. Classical literature is also white.

It is axiomatic that anything tainted by whiteness must be chivvied out and either censored or cancelled entirely. Whiteness is feared by the Left and their ethnic tailcoat-hangers as Kryptonite is feared by Superman. Whites are success victims, responsible for Western supremacy for so long and also, by the same process, responsible for those who now wish that supremacy destroyed and replaced by a different hegemon, one whose likelihood of recreating or replacing civilization in the same way is slim.

What has led to our current Denaissance, this Age of Unreason, a Dark Enlightenment? It would be a bit precious to claim that we are careering down the highway to hell because we don’t read enough Cicero or Lucretius. That said, the classical civilisations were among the first to manifest as successful, and they left a (partial) record of that feat.

The internet – our Gutenberg moveable type press – offers what the BBC once claimed to provide: Information, education, and entertainment. Western governors would prefer you to use it for the latter, there being too much liberatory discourse out there in the virtual cosmos for their liking.

You can read yourself to a tolerable level of freedom in an increasingly oppressive world. And, if you happen to engage with classical literature – and indeed the whole treasure trove of white Western literature – you are in luck on a table where the odds are increasingly being stacked against you and your chance of liberty. There is nothing of the air of the (post-) modern about the literature of strong times, no cynicism about its philosophy (the school of the Cynics notwithstanding) but a sense of an ethno-intellectual brotherhood, one now forced underground where the shades are.

The collected works of Plato and Shakespeare are available as e-books for far less than the price, combined, that you would pay for a half of lager in an identikit bar in London. Have you any idea of the difficulty and expense of obtaining these volumes our grandfathers would have experienced?

So, the classics are waiting there for you, should you be intrigued. Escape from the modern, go back in time, make the classics great again.

 

 

 

 

WAIT UNTIL THE PARTY’S OVER

 

 

The twin offensives against Christianity and whiteness continue. Whether one is a Christian or not is unimportant. Christianity created a viable moral and social framework along with its baroque metaphysics and its abuse of power. The relentless onslaught against the (white) nuclear family was the first redoubt, but all Christian values – and Christians themselves - are currently being jostled and harassed.

The nuclear family was a huge target to hit and an obvious one. It doesn’t much affect blacks who, with 72% of black American children born out of wedlock, don’t tend to go in for that sort of thing. For obvious reasons it doesn’t affect the Alphabetti Spaghetti people because they bat for the other team and are not breeders. Islam is a bit worrying but the problem solves itself. Muslims are never going to adapt to any of these faddish examples of middle-class 1^st-World ennui. Any attempt to break up the Muslim nuclear family – which has the added electron of genetically ruinous cousin marriages – will be met with force. Look at what is happening with the transgender movement. The people making the most noise are Muslims. Regardless of your or my view of Islam, it must be conceded that they are more capable in terms of aggression and organization. When the caliphate comes, at least things will be ordered. It just won’t be a very nice order if you don’t happen to be a Muslim and you don’t quite feel like converting.

As for anti-whiteness, it’s woven through the fabric of Western society, and this in a remarkably short space of time. From visual advertising to public sector hiring policy, from BBC staff to black-only events, movies to TV series, it is absolutely as clear as crystal that blacks are being boosted, lauded, and affirmatively hired. Not Sikhs, Hindus or the Chinese, you understand. They are not corrosive enough, they don’t disrupt the white experience as much as aggressive blacks and hulking queers in dresses in the classroom showing their arses to children.

Blacks aren’t going to like that one much either, by the way. It is amusing that the three championed groups – blacks, Muslim and alphabets – don’t like one another all that much. What is also funny, because schadenfreude is always funny, is that on the way to this dystopia queers and feminists were jettisoned as surplus to requirements. Hi, feminists and queers. Now you’re taking it for the decades of your shit that we were forced to listen to and acknowledge.

So, Britain and America continue to transform their world-historical cultures into a Rabelaisian pig-pen, endlessly highlighting the most desperately worthless elements of what used to be a society. And we are still fighting even though we lost the war some time ago, like the Japanese soldiers found in the jungle many years after WW2 ended. The only option is to wait for the inevitable collapse of society – which has to be odds-on favourite – and hope that there is something left to piece back together after the party’s over and the house has been trashed.

FROM CONSPIRACY THEORY TO CONSPIRACY PRACTICE

 

Like sports teams and pop stars, some media words and phrases have their season. There are frivolous conceits that burst like soap bubbles after a few news cycles: Nothingburger, takeaway, hot mess, all of these rather culinary epithets were around for a little while. News types started saying ‘circle back’ a lot when that troll of a White House press secretary, Jen Psaki, replied to every question using it. I was a little irritated recently when I noted that on Fox political news shoes with a panel, everyone referred to, well, the act of referring to, by saying “To so-and-so’s point”. Then I came across the same construction in George Eliot’s Felix Holt: Radical and allowed that if it is good enough for Eliot – a great stylist – then it is good enough for me. The most miserable of the contemporary examples of low rhetoric is to end a sentence with “moving forward”. At this point, like Bertie Wooster, one simply shakes one’s head and passes on.

One phrase that is now a veteran of the scene is ‘conspiracy theory’.

‘Conspire’ has, as so many English words do, a Latin root incorporating spirare, meaning to breathe, and the prefix con, meaning ‘together’. Breathing together, then, like the musicians in a quartet of wind instruments, or perhaps people who all voice the same opinion. But by the time it reaches 14^th-century Old French, conspirer means to aspire or plan maliciously, to agree together to commit a criminal or reprehensible act. On its etymological journey, then, a conspiracy has gone from breathing in unison, like a mild-mannered yoga class, to something a good deal more sinister. If a dozen people get together to plan an animal sanctuary for stray dogs, we do not say they are conspiring. But if they gather to plan a terrorist attack, we are more inclined to say that they are doing that. That (some) conspiracy theories describe things that don’t exist is, in my opinion, a conspiracy theory.

Now, of course, what were dismissed – and threatened and censored – as conspiracy theories concerning COVID are turning out to be reasonably accurate. Hunter Biden’s laptop does exist after all. There is a ruling elite. We know, because they keep telling us. They’re not making any secret. If the Left say something is a conspiracy theory, it generally means both that it exists and that they are afraid of it, or rather afraid of its being discussed.

And the phrase was also ‘weaponised’ – another word enjoying its day in the sun. Conspiracy theorists so labelled were not subject to ridicule or funny looks at the office. Some of them can get you jail time.

 

DISUNITED WE STAND

 

 

Every now and then someone on the political Right starts whimpering about uniting the right. There are several reasons why this will never happen.

Firstly, the Right is too sectarian. The Left is fragmenting, certainly, but they only differ in the way different mentally handicapped people differ by virtue of variations in the presentation of clinical symptoms. Ultimately, they march in ideological lockstep, which is something the Right are not equipped to do.

Secondly, too much energy on the Right is expended on the wrong causes. Dissident Right-wing commentary should be comprehensive, interrogating the various cracks and fault lines in our current socialist society. Instead, for many on the Right, it means an unswerving, monomaniacal, and unhealthy obsession with Jewry. This is not something that interests me – and things either interest me or they don’t – but, boy, does it interest a lot of people on the far Right. If the Jews run the world and have done for centuries, what does that imply? That they won, or are at least winning, and the talking dolls who find the hook-nosed Hebe everywhere they look lost, or are at least losing. There is no point in fucking whining about it.

Taking the Right as a whole spectrum, from liberal conservatives right out to race realists and white separatists, there is a schism. Right-of-centre magazines and political parties simply will not converse with or acknowledge the existence of far-Right commentary. Write for a ‘white nationalist’ magazine – or one that has been deemed such by the SPLC or ADL – and you can forget about writing for the MSM, or even the squeamish Right-of-centre publications. They will not touch you – they certainly won't touch me – with a long pole. Curiously, though, for all the political and media condemnation, those of us who write for publications allocated the ‘far right’ symbol in the modern media camps are freer than MSM hacks. It is not easy to imagine a keen young writer on any of Britain’s major newspapers pitching a feature to her editor on black crime rates or the disruption caused to rural communities by the sudden arrival of hundreds of undocumented males in their towns and villages. Not only would the reporter be incredulously turned down, but she would go on some kind of watchlist.

I don’t pretend to understand the rules of American Football, but I do grasp the concept that each player has a specific role and not really any other. If the players fulfil those roles to their best ability, and different players and thus roles interact efficiently, the team prospers. He can’t be in our club because he said something charitable about blacks. He can’t, because He said something charitable about Jews. He can’t because he is a Jew, or was once photographed talking to one. But, on the other side of a big tent divided by an impenetrable steel wall, there are those who are of the Right who won’t talk to a race realist, or a counter-jihadist, or someone who thinks trans women are mentally ill freaks. All of those viewpoints should be available for airing in any Right-wing environment. They are not.

The Left are winning and will only grow stronger. The Right will continue to squabble like grackles in a cornfield. If you don’t co-operate, you will continue to lose, and if we don’t all hang together, well, you know the rest.

MAD ABOUT THE BOY

 

Watch politicians being interviewed. There is nothing about them of spontaneity, nothing that indicates that they share a world with us and evaluate it in the same way and with the same moral cartography. They are unlikely to indulge in genuine introspection because they have no use for anything that might hobble their progress. Their maxim is an extension of the first line of the Hippocratic oath; First do no harm to my career. This is a default setting.

There is a quasi-autistic element to the modern politician. Spontaneity is largely absent, most political commentary is pre-rehearsed and anodyne, and watching politicians is slightly eerie. The purpose of AI, as I understand it, is to create machines that think and react like humans. Perhaps there is a side-project to create humans that think and react like machines.

Political interviews are largely chit-chat elevated to the status of political information and supported by rhetorical struts and stanchions. You take as much information away from one as you do from an interview with a sports manager or coach. It’s all done to keep the mummer’s play going, the ignoble falsehood that politicians are striving to serve their people. And watching most politicians is like watching a man trying to hold a 2p coin between the cheeks of his arse, so frightened are they of the wrong word or phrase or implied association.

Which is what makes it so refreshing to watch a short video of a meeting between two of my favourite people on the global stage, Elon Musk and Italian Prime Minister Georgia Meloni. Both despised by the media for coming out of character, they apparently met up to discuss the possibilities of Tusk manufacturing there. Whatever, even if he just popped in for some Chianti and anti-pasti because he was in the area, their meeting was a joy to watch.

There is no audio, just a minute or so of the pair together. If you watch it, you will think; Why weren’t they my mum and dad? So much pleasure in one another’s company, such a display of humanism rather than transhumanism, undoubted sexual attraction.

Meloni plays the coquette, the finger-pointing Italian mama, and the perfect audience for Musk’s undoubted humorous streak. In the final pose for a photo, Meloni holds one arm around Musk’s waist, and goes to put her other across his chest, thinks better of this obvious gesture of abandon, and removes her arm. The way she looks at Musk when they are seated is that of a flirt who has met her match.

Musk goofballs around, to Meloni’s huge amusement, and the viewer recognises a man who knows he has just a small part of a woman’s heart because, as my late father once told me, you can laugh a woman into bed.

Meloni appealed to nationalism, Musk to freedom of speech, both heresies under the modern Inquisition. To me, it looks as though bad guys (and gals) have that much more fun.

OF SICKNESS AND HEALTH

 

My sincere apologies to both my readers for failing to provide you with incisive analysis yesterday. I had 24-hour ‘flu, which put me on the canvas for the entire day. I used to think 24-hour ‘flu was a wheeze by which schoolboys got a day off school, but I have had it three or four times. It begins with a sort of pulse inside the cranium, like a cross between static and the high drone of an insect swarm. It is totally enervating. Use the laptop? I couldn’t even lift the lid. I spent yesterday reading Aristotle’s Rhetoric – about which I am writing a piece – for an hour, then going back to bed for half an hour. My cat stuck with me the whole day. Animals are said to recognize illness in their humans. I can’t call myself an owner. Dogs have owners. Cats have staff.

But, after a much more restful night, sans fever dreams, I rose refreshed. I still have the cough, but that’s a smoker’s cough. I had given up before coming here, but cigarettes are $2.50 a pack, and it seemed churlish not to get back on the gaspers.

I don’t suppose you missed me, as you were all probably celebrating the 111^th birthday of Enoch Powell, who got so close to saving the country he loved. There is a piece of mine here at Counter Currents. Some of you, apparently, were alerted to this weblog via CC but, for those who were not, and who are not aware of CC, you must correct this fault. The late, great Jonathan Bowden called CC ‘an online university’, and there exists no better description.

I used the word ‘weblog’ earlier rather than ‘blog’ as I have always found the latter a little faecal in its connotation. I believe this goes back many years to when I used to try and rile David Miliband, brother of ex-Labour leader Ed Miliband, via his weblog by fact-checking him in the days before fact-checking became what the young people call a ‘thing’. He once wrote that he had, that morning, ‘done a blog’, and I still find the phrase an uncomfortable read.

Weblogging, as I have said, is like two players ‘hitting’ before a tennis match. It warms you up, gets your linguistic and stylistic mojo working (or should that be workin’?), and shows the English language who’s the boss. Of course, you never do. Anyone who writes knows that language is a strange reserve. Anyone who has written a sentence with a clear meaning in mind and watched it change in composition knows that language is what the Greeks called the ‘muse’. It speaks through the poet through ekstasis. Language can be a harsh mistress, but she is an irresistible one. But it is she who does the writing. Writers are just messenger boys.

Do Americans still call ‘flu ‘la grippe’?

 

STAY ON THE (CRIME) SCENE

 

 

For a nation in Roman decline, the United States of America has still got it. What though the border is hopelessly porous, with an immigration policy designed to bring Latin America to America, along with Chinamen, Africans, Arabs and other stragglers? The economy is heading to dustbowl 2.0? Forget about it. Your town hall, school, freeways, main streets, churches and stores are covered in the endless ideological bunting of pride? Lighten up, bud. And I mean lighten up. Shape up or ship out. Watch your job, there boy. Think about your pension before you open your metaphorical mouth on Twitter. Add this to black crime rates, opioid addiction, Chinese infiltration, transgenderism for infants and the overall hobbling of whites by a manufactured sense of guilt for a history invented by white liberals with blacks doing the colouring-in, and the US Government’s response makes Nero’s fiddling while Rome went up in flames looks like the Emperor spent his remaining time writing out roll after roll of papyrus instructing first-responders, the courts, the schools and universities (although Rome had no universities; they would come later), the senate, Uncle Tom Cobley and all to look sharp because there may be trouble ahead. And, towering above this handcart drive to hell is the one thing America has always done best; high-level crime.

While the UK persecutes its political leaders for eating cake at a party during Covid lockdown (Boris Johnson), getting a speeding ticket (Home Secretary Suella Braverman) and a missing 650 grand sterling in campaign funds and a camper van (the Scottish National Party’s Nicola Sturgeon), America showed it still has the old razzmatazz when it comes to crime and punishment in DC’s corridors of power.

A camper van? The sitting US President and his crackhead, stripper-impregnating son are being linked with a Ukrainian bribe to the tune of $5 million – each. Cake? Former President Donald Trump was just indicted – for the second time – on 37 charges. There are just some things Americans do better.

Trump, of course, has just sat back and watched his poll figures rise. Americans always had a sneaking admiration for the bad guy. Trump is actually the perfect president for the USA. At the risk of offending American readers, Trump is brash, arrogant, loud, vain and vulgar. As I say, I am merely the messenger so put that Colt .45 away. I have met many Brits and Europeans, and I can faithfully report that they tend to see Americans – and indeed America itself – as brash, arrogant, loud, vain and vulgar. Cometh the hour, cometh the man.

As for the Biden family, when you have the combined weight of the media, a Soros-backed DA, Hollywood, academia and an America-hating Democrat Party all batting for the other team, it is a daunting prospect. This will be a test case, but not for judicial precedent, rather to discover just how Soviet the American deep state is prepared to go. In the meantime, American politics still knows how to put on a show. That’s entertainment!

THERE WILL BE BLOOD

 

 

Well, I predicted that a Muslim would turn out to be responsible for the Nottingham murders. The suspect is a 31-year-old black man from West Africa with a history of mental problems. West Africa is a hotbed for Islamic State and Boko Haram, both rabid Islamist groups, but the police have mentioned nothing about Islam yet/ There is, however, no consumption of humble pie, crow, or even headwear at my gaff.

The details about the suspect – who had been caught on film earlier trying to break into someone’s house – were not supplied by state broadcaster the BBC, nor by the Nottinghamshire police, who are equipped to know more than anyone else. It came via Martin Daubney, who I think is in the Reform Party (they won’t speak to me as I am deemed too toxic), who shot a strange video of the arrest with a scaffolding pole between the camera and the suspect so that all that can be seen is the arresting officers. He sent it to GB News who, despite disappointing me somewhat since I was the first journalist to write about them in the American dissident press, made good use of it.

Statistically, there will be more of these attacks, and the only pertinent question will be; how long will the British public put up with it? John Major may have been a hopeless Prime Minister – he resembled a cricket commentator who went to the wrong job interview – but he did have one good gag. Step on an Englishman’s foot, he said, and he will apologise. Step on his foot again, and he will apologise. Step on his foot a third time, and he will knock you down. There is a very definite feeling in the air that the Englishman’s foot has been stepped on twice.

Italian Prime Minister, the passionately nationalist firebrand Georgia Meloni, has warned the British government that there are 400,000 migrants waiting to cross from the Maghreb in North Africa to the island of Lampedusa, the jumping-off point for Italy. From there, she goes on, most of them will be set on the UK for their extended holidays. They have seen the brochure and think it looks nice.

The English are already risking the ire of locals by putting up hundreds of unvetted Muslim men, with their known taste for the kufr ladyfolk, the younger the better, in top-class hotels. They paid house-owners to take in Ukrainian refugees until the hosts discovered how racist their guests were. They are now bringing in barges, for which the ports are totally unprepared and which in any case house fewer migrants on each boat than arrive in a day. The Rwanda plan was the reddest of red herrings.

No, there is a limit to immigration which the government fully intend to exceed. Whether they have taken account of the violence which will soon take place in England, or whether it is part of the plan to advance the police state Britain is becoming, one thing is certain. There will be blood.

 

A piece of mine at Counter Currents, on the censorship put in place during the Covid pandemic. https://counter-currents.com/2023/06/information-warfare-curating-the-covid-narrative/

 

 

ANATOMY OF A MURDER

 

 

There has been what police term a ‘major incident’ in the English Midlands city of Nottingham. Two people were found dead in the street and, later, a third. Three others were hospitalised. Whenever this sort of event occurs, the initial reports must be examined forensically. In this case, early media coverage told us that the police Counter Terrorism Unit were involved. There is a mention of understanding the ‘ideology’ behind the attack. Eye-witnesses say the man driving the van – who is 31 and under arrest – had dark skin. Finally, the police have urged the public to ‘be cautious’. Usually, they tell the public not to ‘jump to conclusions’, and this means the same thing and refers to social media.

All of these indicators suggest that the attacker was a Muslim. This will worry those shadowy figures in government whose job it is to ensure that the ‘optics’ surrounding an event like this always serve to protect brand Islam, one of the UK government’s top priorities. I have watched the various media advances with interest. The city has had sections of it cordoned off, and this cordon seems to be expanding. Two men at a commercial premises have been arrested. There will be a press conference by the Nottinghamshire police later today, which will again have to be looked at forensically for key words and phrases.

If I am wrong, I will eat humble pie with a side order of crow, but it is a pound to a pinch of snuff that, if the suspect were a white Englishman, his identity would have been made known straight away. Twitter is, apparently, alive with Leftist crayon wielders calling the attack a ‘white supremacist’ act. Whenever a serious incident takes place, there is a hard rump of Leftists imploring heaven – their version of heaven – that it is a white guy.

If it is a Muslim, the next phase of distraction will begin, as the suspect will be labelled a ‘lone wolf’ with ‘mental health issues’. Now, you could argue that adherence to the Koran and various other primitive jujus indicates a level of problematic mental health in itself, but the use of these phrases misunderstands the fundamental nature of Islamic terrorism.

In the days when Al Qa’eda were the biggest gang in town, we Western news consumer were sold the idea of some James Bond villain’s shadowy organization. But ‘Al Qa’eda’ translates from the Arabic as ‘the method’, ‘the way of doing things’, ‘the protocol’, and ‘base camp’. There is no undersea island, just the knowledge that there will be a steady stream of one-off attacks carried out in adherence to a theologico-social set of commands and extending to all Muslims. Muslim attacks can happen at any time and in the leafiest of English counties, which, along with the visible effects in cordoning off streets, has the additional bonus in terms of anarcho-tyranny by keeping people scared of their own streets, and painfully aware of the unspoken (because you aren’t permitted to) danger of violent Islam.

As I say, if I am wrong I will find a hat and eat it. But I am betting this driver is a Mussulman.

PANTS VERY MUCH ON FIRE

 

 

Matilda told such dreadful lies.

It made one gasp and stretch one’s eyes.

 

Hillaire Belloc, Matilda Who Told Lies and Was Burned to Death.

 

 

Tell me lies.

Tell me sweet little lies.

 

Fleetwood Mac

 

 

One of the first gags I ever heard from my father, a very funny man, was; How do you know if a politician is lying? His lips are moving. Then, in the 1970s, lying politicians were a stock figure of fun, playing a role in the Punch and Judy play of society in those gentler times, like the randy milkman or the pencil-moustachioed income tax inspector. Things are different now.

Lies, deceptions, half-truths and misleading statements are now the stock-in-trade of the modern, Western neo-Socialist government. With each month, it seems, they grow more audacious. Let’s look at the case of Rishi Sunak and illegal immigration, the so-called ‘small boats’ crisis. Firstly, Sunak ignored it because the media were doing a good enough job hiding it away. Then, as a result of citizen journalists and the gradual awareness of GB News and Nigel Farage, Sunak allowed his Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, to use some fairly muscle-flexing rhetoric to appear to address the problem. This after Braverman’s predecessor, Priti Patel, had come up with a scheme to transfer illegal immigrants to Rwanda. The amount of such immigrants – mostly Muslim – is, at the time of writing, equivalent to a number discovered by Muslims. Zero.

Then Sunak realized that legal immigration was actually supplying the bulk of the incoming hordes, and that system was open to abuse, and people were starting to notice despite the best efforts of the MSM. So, he switched his focus to the small boats. Recently, he showed himself to be just an old-fashioned Hindu gentleman by claiming that his policies – which don’t actually exist – were working, as the number of immigrants crossing the English Channel had decreased for the first time in a while. The way Sunak gamed the figures was by putting in a personal appearance  on the Kent coast on a day when the weather was too bad for any crossings to be attempted. A couple of days later, a record 616 undocumented immigrants arrived in 12 boats, handed over as always in the middle of the Channel by the French to the English.

The only processing that can be done with an arriviste who has no documentation – having thrown it, along with his phone, into the Channel – is to fingerprint them if they appear on no other database. What use is that? You now have an immigrant who will likely disappear into the micro-caliphate the UK is becoming, and you are left with a set of unattributed dabs. Utterly useless.

Sunak knows his days are numbered, and is reverting to the politician’s default setting, which is to attempt to lie your way out of everything. This weary old ruse has just done for Nicola Sturgeon in Scotland. Forgive my naivety, but what would the West be like if politicians stuck to the truth?

PUBLISH AND BE DAMNED

 

 A very successful week. I have had three pieces published, which makes up for my recent skirmishes with various editors, of which more later.

First out of the trap is this piece in VDare. It concerns British activist organization HOPE not Hate (that is how they spell their silly name. These people tend to think in upper case) and their annual report on ‘far-Right extremism’. The problem is there isn’t really any far-Right extremism in Britain, so they don’t so much have a tale to tell as one to construct. This is also the case in America, where a mythical MAGA army of white supremacists are classed as America’s greatest threat (Note: It isn’t. That would be Communism), and British anti-fascists must be careful not to let the truth get in the way of a good fireside story. Because that is what this is. The Left require a rabid enemy even if there is none. Without someone to hate, their super-powers don’t work. I have also written on this subject here at The Occidental Observer.

Which brings us neatly on to the second piece up this week, which so happens to be at the same title. Occupying the Universities is fairly self-explanatory, charting the way in which universities in the West, and particularly the US and the UK, have been thoroughly transformed, certainly in my lifetime. When I went to university in 1981 there were some token feminists and a few bolshy wankers who wanted to occupy the refectory, but none of the wild-eyed, snarling, Soviet behaviour that disfigures today’s dreaming spires and ivory towers. A Humanities degree is becoming increasingly worthless, and employers are starting to realise what is happening and will look elsewhere for their future workforce.

Finally, something on a lighter note. I discovered the Flashman novels of George Macdonald Fraser 20 years ago. I was living on a canal boat at the time, and I had lent someone in another boat my copy of Nowhere to Run, an excellent history of Tamla Motown written by an American woman whose name I forget. Next day, the boat had gone, taking my book with it. Slightly disgruntled, I noticed that a rubbish bag had been moved on the deck, picked it up, and found a Flashman novel underneath. It was a very good exchange.

Here is a review of the first novel, Flashman, from the excellent Counter Currents, by far my favourite magazine to write for.

It is curious being a right-wing journalist. I consider myself a journalist since I get paid for writing. British journos get very sniffy about the fact that their hallowed grove has let in riff-raff like me, who haven’t even been to journalism school to learn how Marxist polemic is written.

The MSM won’t touch people like me with a long pole, as you would expect, and the fear of association echoes that of suspected communists during the McCarthy era. I wrote a glowing piece last year on Britain’s Reclaim Party, run by actor Laurence Fox, and their PR department couldn’t have done a better job. They still wouldn’t talk to me.

There are ups and downs. I was writing for Taki’s Magazine until I fell out with the humourless bitch who edits it. And I was being funded to start and edit a new magazine, as every outlet I write for is American, and there is no English equivalent. Throne Dynamics are a strange organization, and I will write at length about them. They are a sort of dime-store Church of Scientology, and when they showed their utter inability to provide me with the resources and information needed – tech, basically, concerning which I number among the Amish – I gave them a few of my most rebarbative emails until they scuttled off in silence. There goes the funding, but I could not, in all seriousness, work for charlatans.

If you fancy publishing a two-fisted, politically astute, culturally literate English magazine, and you happen to have twenty thousand US in non-sequential notes knocking about your doubtless impeccable apartment, give me a tinkle.

OLD GORY

 

American politics is vastly more entertaining than its British counterpart and progenitor, the ‘mother of all parliaments’ in the picturesque halls of Westminster. British politics is akin to a pair of puppies yapping at each other over who gets the blanket, whereas the American equivalent is a pit-bull dog-fight in a junkyard. No doubt the First Amendment is the difference, but I thoroughly enjoy the ad hominem attacks American politicians make on one another, whereas the British politician – who is more restricted in their speech than anyone – must mind her Ps and Qs.

And the Americans have trounced the British when it comes to bad boys vying for the top job. Britain has Rishi Sunak, to whom some pathetically insignificant financial and very minor scandal clings, which anyway concerns his wife, Boris Johnson, deposed for going to a party, and Sir Keir Starmer, who probably never even flicked ink pellets in class when he at school with, and a year below, me.

The Americans, on the other hand, may have the first-ever Presidential run-off in its history in which the two rivals have posted bail and are taking part in the debates wearing ankle monitors. They have a way to go before they hit the high bar set by Africa, where a cannibal, say, will be fighting at the strictly regulated ballot-box against a guy who merely set his opponents on fire, but it’s a start.

The disparities have been minutely enumerated on what there is of right-wing news in the USA (funny how a combination of the First, lack of governmental control – at least obviously – and a free market produce such a left-leaning media in such a fundamentally conservative country), and it looks as though Biden’s accusation would lead to federal prosecution, whereas Trump’s should be a civil case. Why, then, are the media crowing about Trump facing 400 years in jail? Because they are psychotic, essentially, like much of the rest of the Left. When they want to read something cosy and familiar, which they feel reflects who they are and their lived experience, these people nestle up with DSM V.

Republican Representative for Georgia, Marjorie Taylor Greene, has supposedly seen the document with the power to drop the Biden family into the shark tank, and the prospect of President Kamala Harris terrifies Democrats as much as it secretly delights real Republicans. Also, if either Trump or Biden experience what so many of America’s criminals currently do not, that is, incarceration, then Ron de Santis and Gavin Newsom are limbering up.

The politicking, with Trump’s indictment following the same day as Biden’s people discovered that the document the FBI said didn’t exist actually did exist all along, and makes interesting beach reading, is at the highest level. Machiavelli must be watching from somewhere, the rest of his day’s appointments cancelled.

A lot of very hot air is expended on the subject of political morality, but it has no more place in competitive politics than rules in a bar fight. This could be the first US Presidential election won or lost by lawyers.

CLIMATE OF FEAR

 

 

The Canadian wild-fires currently befogging New York and much of the American east coast has, as you might expect, been ascribed to climate change. Despite official figures showing that the top five causes of forest fires are four of them human. The other is lightning, which I believe is still the fault of Zeus. Climate change is an all-purpose tool, it will do anything you want it to. It’s like an ideological Swiss army knife.

Various facts have been unearthed that argue against this spurious theory, not least that America’s cities experienced twenty ‘dark days’ between the early eighteenth century and 1910, before cars and aeroplanes and with a far lower, largely non-industrial global populace. But anything fact-based makes no dent in opposition armour. Climate change ideology is like every other modern ideology in that is composed of ex cathedra statements made ex nihilo.

Now, climate is a vast subject and laymen rely on various news outlets, websites or books. I have dipped into it, always having had a minor interest after reading Bjørn Lomborg’s The Skeptical Environmentalist some two decades ago. From what I have read, Lomborg is right, or at least he was then. The money expended on green initiatives – far more now than it was 20 years ago – would be better spent on local projects to improve the environment at ground level.

Another problem with ‘fighting climate change’ is that it is only certain Western countries who are fighting this supposed war for the life of the planet. You won’t catch China or India going green. And for the developed West, and particularly their governments, it is an efficient and ingenious way to take even more money from a cowed, surveilled, tired public. Green taxes will cost everyone a lot of money, and make a lot of money for the usual suspects.

At the same time as green is the dominant colour – the ugly spectrum of the pride flag notwithstanding – actual green land in the UK is about to be concreted over to build new houses to house migrants. Green only goes as far as energy. When it comes to land, the government wish that to be their demesne. That is also what is behind the farmland grab that was road-tested in the Netherlands and will doubtless be extended for use elsewhere across Europe.

Climate change is a stick to beat the masses. And, of course, the virtuous subscribe to the mythology, as they are expected to do. The tiresome British organization Just Stop Oil have been antagonizing British motorists for weeks by blocking roads, and the police have been careful to make sure they are just as protected as the BLM rioters were.

Covid outlived its usefulness, and so something else was required that would hand the power over individuals to government. The political climate is certainly changing.