Tuesday, 12 May 2015

Will you be back?

In case you were wondering, my Labour-supporting countrymen and women, why Friday proved to be so disappointing and why you spent the weekend in unexpected outrage, I have some suggestions.

For five years you promised to plunder England and the English once again; and enough of you made plain from the former Coalition’s beginnings that your regard the cross of St. George as just another signpost to a no-limits ATM: ‘Insert progressive slogan here for cash. No need to check your balance. You will not be charged for this transaction.’ Your parties’ plan was, (and your intentions were always made as plain as plain can be) that you would go to the sources of our four nations’ wealth and take whatever you wanted to spend as you chose without a word of gratitude for what you had already taken or of appreciation for what you were presently spending and without expressing the slightest regret about what you would take away from people in future. And when you didn’t win power outright last time you were none too critical (if at all) of those who rioted and looted for what you call justice but that doesn’t resemble justice at all in the ashen morning as the fire engines finally pull away from the ruins of a lifetime’s work.

And you insulted our faculty of memory. You insulted our intelligence when you assumed we’d forget just who plunged the country into generations-long debt and just who sold British bullion off cheaply at prices you depressed by giving advance notice. That metal was paid for by taxes; taken from the profits and wages of folk who had risen early to work long and hard hours for years to come home tired and a little preoccupied when their children wanted to play and you spent your thirteen years in office and the past five years in opposition defaming businessmen (all but your privileged pets) who every make wage packets for the millions in our countries who actually work – you defamed them as parasites, as thieves and oppressors. You, my compassionate Labour friends, raised the husbandless mothers of fatherless children above the wives and the widows and the regretfully divorced and you crowned them with crowns of innocence and absolved them of all responsibility for their plight from their first teenage pregnancy to serial motherhood through lifelong lack of work or a token few hours as they lived lives of security, ease and luxury unavailable to the Pharaohs in their glory.

You taught our children - if you taught them at all - about a nation’s history that was all warts and no face; about an economic system that was all gaps and faults as though we don’t in share live  four countries where numerous jobless and unmarried mothers can speak across continents at the cost of a few coppers and who can carry the equivalent of an orchestra and a cinema and a university library in her pocket but woe betide the English (or anyone else) if they complain she ought to manage to feed her children a little fruit and some vegetables from the income the hated private sectors’ taxes send to her bank account week after week without fail. And their brief, absent, useless former menfolk are praised as your potential heroes of potential labour which some of them might do if some of our permanent houseguests weren’t in the queue ahead of them.

You insulted our memory when you hoped we’d forget just who it was who most welcomed, who most eagerly accepted, who scoured the world for unfriendly strangers whose worst won’t live within our laws or keep the peace if doing otherwise suits them. You insulted and defamed those who noticed and who remembered exactly who it was who painted London’s streets and Underground with innocent blood and your officials and police have spent a decade and a half slandering, shouting down and imprisoning those who notice and who complain and who remember just whose blade it was that hacked through our soldier’s neck.
You’re still defaming and unleashing your street gangs and bureaucrats on anyone who mentions and who wants to investigate and punish, my Labour friends and neighbours, the authorities who presided over industrial-scale working class child sex slavery across the backbone of England for decades and who remember just whose foul bodies penetrated the innocent in body and soul until you looked away for years while you proclaimed your spotless compassion to the world.
But our memories aren’t so poor that every one of us can forget such things.

You continue to insult our entire race and you hold our civilization as the worst of tyrannies and its founders the greediest of parasites and you’re still doing it today with all your potential lessons unlearned.
And you do it through machines and across networks and in homes and streets and workplaces and schools built and heated and lighted by powers and forces that are measured by the names of the pioneering and most despicable dead white males (and one famous female) who built your luxury to complain across the entire globe.

You enthroned the IRA and their mirror-image loyalist terrorists as the rulers of our only province and you have dominated Wales and most of its officers for decades and still manage to blame all its failings on the distant, donor English and you have (by accident or design) arranged the rise of a potentially hostile foreign country on England’s border for the first time in three centuries and do you still enjoy, I wonder, the short-term gains your politicians achieved in elevating those smaller nationalisms while utterly suppressing our own? Yet still we pay the price of union, more (or less) cheerfully.

Worst of all, you and your priests and choirs and pet clowns have proclaimed and continue to proclaim your decency and moral purity while all the time denying the simple humanity of disagreeing – we are evil and all our works and all our thoughts are baleful and unworthy of the slightest respect or modicum of sympathy.

So what have you become, my Labour-supporting countrymen? You aren't good listeners and it’s doubtful that the few of you who might see this have read this far. You were so surprised on Friday because you have walled yourselves away from all disagreement and contrary evidence, you have banished all dissent and even the possibility of dissent from your imagination and you have lost what your movement once upheld: sympathy and understanding for others who are not exactly like you. You have presided over the colonization of our lands and corrupted our children with the belief that only you and a handful of allies are in any way worthy of what is good and valuable. Especially democracy: so much so that your mouthpieces rarely (if ever) comment upon a political culture that can raise Labour and Green and (most) nationalist posters pretty much everywhere in safety and peace, but where posting blue or purple banners more or less guarantees a phone call to the glaziers. No wonder you were surprised on Friday.

Only today are you demanding that the electoral system that gave you a decade of unchecked power must now be changed because you lost.

I doubt the Conservatives will cure these problems. But what have you become, Labour supporter, that you didn't notice and you still don’t care that you pissed on England and yet are surprised that much England doesn't love you any more? And you’re still not listening. None of the above moves you to change in any way, does it?

You’re out there. Can you be bargained with? Can you be reasoned with? Can you feel pity, or remorse, or fear? And will you absolutely not stop, ever, until you or England is dead?  

1 comment:

James Higham said...

Yep, we were "mad as hell and not going to take it any more" after that.


Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner