Tuesday 22 November 2011

In de Jungle

Currently working in sub-Saharan Africa with very intermittent internet access.

Sadly, I have to say, all my latent prejudices are being confirmed.  The locals are feckless, lazy and violent and other than the language difference, no different to the gangstas of African descent we have in London, Birmingham or any of our major cities.  Nothing is safe - leave it lying around and it will disappear.  Without armed guards, the kids will descend on pick-ups, force them to a halt and steal anything not bolted down.

Foreign workers here (and we're here to train them to do the jobs and benefit from the natural resources here) are never alone or unguarded.  Our compound (500 of us) is surrounded by barbed wire and an electrified fence plus a continual mobile armed presence all night.

Still, the monies good.  And after the locals finally take everything over, I'll give it 6 months before they pay us even more to come back and put things right.

Seems a general rule that those of African descent cannot manage anything properly nor work towards a better future.  Just look at America, who they've got in charge and the state they're in!!


Sad.  Clearly, whoever coined the phrase 'the noble savage' either hadn't been here or walked around with their eyes closed.

Saturday 12 November 2011

On this day of all days.

This one has been doing the rounds for a while, but it struck a chord today.

The Story Begins

Last week I was in West London attending a conference.

While I was in the airport, returning home, I heard several people behind me beginning to clap and cheer.

I immediately turned around and witnessed one of the greatest acts of patriotism I have ever seen.

Moving through the terminal was a group of soldiers in their uniforms, as they began heading to their gate everyone (well almost everyone) was abruptly to their feet with their hands waving and cheering.

When I saw the soldiers, probably 30-40 of them, being applauded and cheered for, it hit me. I'm not alone. I'm not the only red blooded Briton who still loves this country and supports our troops and their families. Of course I immediately stopped and began clapping for these young unsung heroes who are putting their lives on the line everyday for us so we can go to school, work, and enjoy our home without fear of reprisal.

Just when I thought I could not be more proud of my country or of our service men and women a young girl, not more than 6 or 7 years old, ran up to one of the male soldiers.

He knelt down and said 'hi,' the little girl then asked him if he would give something to her daddy for her.

The young soldier didn't look any older than maybe 22 himself, said he would try and what did she want to give to her daddy.

Suddenly the little girl grabbed the neck of this soldier, gave him the biggest hug she could muster and then kissed him on the cheek.

The mother of the little girl, who said her daughter’s name was Courtney, told the young soldier that her husband was a Corporal and had been in Afghanistan for 5 months now.

As the mum was explaining how much her daughter, Courtney, missed her father, the young soldier began to tear up.

When this temporarily single mum was done explaining her situation, all of the soldiers huddled together for a brief second.

Then one of the other servicemen pulled out a military looking walkie-talkie.

They started playing with the device and talking back and forth on it.

After about 10-15 seconds of this, the young soldier walked back over to Courtney, bent down and said this to her, 'I spoke to your daddy and he told me to give this to you.'

He then hugged this little girl that he had just met and gave her a Kiss on the cheek.

He finished by saying 'Your daddy told me to tell you that he loves you more than anything and he is coming home very soon.'

The mum at this point was crying almost uncontrollably and as the young soldier stood to his feet he saluted Courtney and her mum.

I was standing no more than 6 feet away as this entire event unfolded.

As the soldiers began to leave, heading towards their gate, people resumed their applause.

As I stood there applauding and looked around, there were very few dry eyes, including my own.

That young soldier in one last act of moment turned around and blew a kiss to Courtney with a tear rolling down his cheek.

We need to remember everyday all of our soldiers and their families and thank God for them and their sacrifices.

At the end of the day, it's good to be an Englishman.


RED FRIDAYS


Very soon, you will see a great many people wearing Red every Friday.

The reason?

Englishmen and women who support our troops used to be called the 'silent majority'.

We are no longer silent, and are voicing our love for Country and home in record breaking numbers.

We are not organized, boisterous or over-bearing.

We get no liberal media coverage on TV, to reflect our message or our opinions.
Many English people, like you, me and all our friends, simply want to recognize that the vast majority of Britain supports our troops.

Our idea of showing solidarity and support for our troops with dignity and respect starts this Friday and continues each and every Friday until the troops all come home, sending a deafening message that every Briton who supports our men and women afar will wear something red.

By word of mouth, press, TV, let's make Great Britain on every Friday a sea of red much like a homecoming football team

If every one of us who loves this country will share this with acquaintances, co-workers, friends, and family, It will not be long before Britain is covered in RED and it will let our troops know the once 'silent' majority is on their side more than ever, certainly more than the media lets on.

The first thing a soldier says when asked 'What can we do to make things better for you?' is...'We need your support and your prayers'...

Let's get the word out and lead with class and dignity, by example; and wear something red every Friday.

Whilst MAC may have been banned, there are still plenty of the loonies about out there.  As an example, when I flew into B'ham earlier this week, on Emirates, a young girl, late teens or so, of evident middle eastern appearance rose across from me and disappeared to the restroom.  She looked like any other western teenage - jeans, T-shirt etc.  Five minutes later, she's back, wearing a black bag from head to toe with just a slit for the eyes.  She didn't dress that way in Dubai or on the flight, but I'll bet she went through immigration with her face covered and her 'rights' intact.
 
Muslims are dressing to make political statements.  We must do the same.  Please, wear something red Fridays.  I did in Qatar, was asked why and when I explained, some of them were really pissed-off.  We need to piss them off.
Especially today.

Friday 4 November 2011

Perhaps we should attack Friday Prayers?

THE FINAL INSPECTION

The soldier stood and faced God, Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,Just as brightly as his brass.
'Step forward now, you soldier,How shall I deal with you ?
Have you always turned the other cheek ?To My Church have you been true?
'The soldier squared his shoulders and said,'No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,Can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays,And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,Because the world is awful rough.
But, I never took a penny,That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime,When the bills got just too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help,Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place,Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here, Lord,It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,But if you don't, I'll understand.
There was a silence all around the throne,Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,For the judgment of his God.
'Step forward now, you soldier,You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,You've done your time in Hell.'

Author Unknown~Thinking of all theBritish Soldiers

Don't let the Muslim rabble disturb Remembrance Day.

The Eleventh Hour of the Eleventh Day

Its one week before armistice day, 2011.  Shortly, the calender will read the hours 11:11.11.11.11.  Has anything changed?  Europe is still a mess, although this time its not mud.  The French are still run by a short-arsed little bastard and they're still enthralled by the Germans, whose leader is calling the shots and ordering other nations how to behave.

No doubt she's had her moustache waxed off, unlike the last strutting gobshite.

Next Sunday we'll stand in our public places and remember those who fought to prevent this.  All will be silent except for the rantings of the Middle-Eastern loons who worship the paedophile.  At least I'll be there to punch the fuck out of any rancid beards this year.

Our leaders, from the Queen down, should hang their heads in shame, forego Sunday lunch and sort this fucking mess out.  We do not need to be involved this time.  If the fuckwits from across the channel want to play hardball, let them get on with it - amongst themselves.

I sit here amongst the descendants of true British patriots and I cringe.  I am ashamed of our nation.  I cannot even begin to explain to these decent people what the fuck is going on.  There are people here who think a war is coming and they don't want to be part of it this time.  Who can blame them?

I thought the Greeks were about to stand on their own two feet and tell the EU to go fuck itself.  Instead, like all politicians, they collapsed when push came to shove.  So whats next?  Over to you wankers.  For Gods sake, vote UKIP.

Wednesday 2 November 2011