A miserable wind blew and the rain drummed upon the pavement, I hunched down further into my coat, bemoaning my flimsy attire, cars swished by, carbon footprints be dammed, this summer, the sun has been chased from the sky and gloom descends glue-like, mirroring the nations mood, entrapping us all. It is as if joy ebbs away, chased by darkness, we live as if in Narnia, in perpetual winter, yet not even that, merely gloom, there is no Aslan for us, the British lion is cowed, too scared of the darkness a prowl, to venture out. Time presses and work holds me fast and out there, in cyber-world a weblog starves, ill-provided, neglected, yet nature is cruel, the side I fight for, runs headlong in defeat, chased by triumphant devils, hindered, their lines broken and no defence, weariness overwhelms, of body but more crushingly of mind. Many of us and yes perhaps I too, shall fade out, another star gone from an enlightened universe and once all the stars are gone, there can only ever be blackness, unless the sun again transcends and blackness is banished and a renaissance begins anew.
I don’t see it, attuned as I am, aware as I am cursed to be, only that morning; news reached me of the fate of Mr Simon Shepherd and as I know him, Mr Luke O’farrell, found guilty, free-speech a corpse. This dismal rain, this awful gloom, my body ached from labour and my mind fought desolation, we know don’t we, we, left still with our senses, not befuddled by them, not mislead, able yet to discern truth, clinging to it, for it is all we have left. Mass censorship blankets the west, at least in the home of western man, here in the true cradle of civilisation, Europe, intellectuals preach magnificent falsehoods whilst the masses give not a fig, it is beyond them, it matters not when fuel bills rise, when children need new school-clothes and jobs are worked on sandy ground, it matters not when shelter entails servitude whilst servants of evil have grace and favour mansions,
No the masses don’t care, how can they when so much beckons them, seeks their attention, its food on the table, a roof over heads and clothes on backs, let intellectuals and their ilk, say what they like, let government change what they like, it is all to the good, after all, a government would not consciously work against the peoples interest and intellectuals are too clever to undermine society, yes indeed, too clever by half. So the people carry on, it is all they have ever done, society survives in any given situation, I know this as I walk, lashed by the rain, whipped by the wind and struck by the truth of it. I have shopping to do, I to must set food upon the table, outside the shop tethered I see a dog, sad eyes regard me, before the head slumps back to rest upon its front paws, beginning anew to gaze upon the world, it is muzzled this dog, unable then, to either voice its misery or indeed run away, it sums up for me so many things, we are all tethered, muzzled, restricted, forced should they have their way, to look on with no comment, to accept their order without question.
It is natural to follow order, to respond to the group, yet if this were natural, for our good and the good of those to come, why then the lies, the spin and finally, why then the enforcement, such draconian enforcement. We on the right have failed, we have let them march in and take it all, without so much as a shot, and even now our forces are in disarray, racing hither and thither, whilst they mould the minds of our children. Such a shame I think, walking past the dog, looking down in pity, perhaps though it is dangerous, perhaps a muzzle is needed, this week our government endeavoured to muzzle us, to deny us our voice. Yet two nationalists escaped, ran headlong to the purported home of free-speech, casting off their new muzzles as they went and me, I find that I cannot wear one, cannot bear the restriction, cannot take their bait and dangle on their line.
I arrive home to countless e-mails, an un-muzzled dog and more stories from hell, my soul reels, weariness grips, too tired to write, I look out to the universe to the other stars, only to find that two have gone out, Flanders Fields and Home of the Green Arrow and I know why, extra knowledge breeds deeper despair and a weblog cannot change the world, would that it could. 14
I don’t see it, attuned as I am, aware as I am cursed to be, only that morning; news reached me of the fate of Mr Simon Shepherd and as I know him, Mr Luke O’farrell, found guilty, free-speech a corpse. This dismal rain, this awful gloom, my body ached from labour and my mind fought desolation, we know don’t we, we, left still with our senses, not befuddled by them, not mislead, able yet to discern truth, clinging to it, for it is all we have left. Mass censorship blankets the west, at least in the home of western man, here in the true cradle of civilisation, Europe, intellectuals preach magnificent falsehoods whilst the masses give not a fig, it is beyond them, it matters not when fuel bills rise, when children need new school-clothes and jobs are worked on sandy ground, it matters not when shelter entails servitude whilst servants of evil have grace and favour mansions,
No the masses don’t care, how can they when so much beckons them, seeks their attention, its food on the table, a roof over heads and clothes on backs, let intellectuals and their ilk, say what they like, let government change what they like, it is all to the good, after all, a government would not consciously work against the peoples interest and intellectuals are too clever to undermine society, yes indeed, too clever by half. So the people carry on, it is all they have ever done, society survives in any given situation, I know this as I walk, lashed by the rain, whipped by the wind and struck by the truth of it. I have shopping to do, I to must set food upon the table, outside the shop tethered I see a dog, sad eyes regard me, before the head slumps back to rest upon its front paws, beginning anew to gaze upon the world, it is muzzled this dog, unable then, to either voice its misery or indeed run away, it sums up for me so many things, we are all tethered, muzzled, restricted, forced should they have their way, to look on with no comment, to accept their order without question.
It is natural to follow order, to respond to the group, yet if this were natural, for our good and the good of those to come, why then the lies, the spin and finally, why then the enforcement, such draconian enforcement. We on the right have failed, we have let them march in and take it all, without so much as a shot, and even now our forces are in disarray, racing hither and thither, whilst they mould the minds of our children. Such a shame I think, walking past the dog, looking down in pity, perhaps though it is dangerous, perhaps a muzzle is needed, this week our government endeavoured to muzzle us, to deny us our voice. Yet two nationalists escaped, ran headlong to the purported home of free-speech, casting off their new muzzles as they went and me, I find that I cannot wear one, cannot bear the restriction, cannot take their bait and dangle on their line.
I arrive home to countless e-mails, an un-muzzled dog and more stories from hell, my soul reels, weariness grips, too tired to write, I look out to the universe to the other stars, only to find that two have gone out, Flanders Fields and Home of the Green Arrow and I know why, extra knowledge breeds deeper despair and a weblog cannot change the world, would that it could. 14
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