We’ve tried the cowboys, now for the Indians
There is nothing so exciting or colorful as the election of a Hindu Prime Minister. The splendor of India, the heat and dust, the parade of many-armed goddesses and elephant gods, the dusky maidens in bright saris doing that thing with their necks that parrots do, the flowers, the smell of spice, the . . .
Sorry, what was that? Oh, I see. The Hindu guy is the British Prime Minister. Right, now I’m with you.
Yes, the British have had a new king and a second new Prime Minister in seven weeks, and the first is the spawn of Greeks and Germans while the latter is an Indian, causing much mirth at The Times of India. Rishi Sunak is fabulously rich due to his wife’s co-ownership of Indian information tech behemoth Infosys (she allegedly saves £20 million a year in taxes as she has non-domicile status), was the holder of an American green card while he was Chancellor of the Exchequer (and possibly still is, the press won’t say), and is a passionate globalist, a word we will return to. Sunak has only ever stood in one election, which he lost to Liz Truss in September, she being the recent, blink-and-you’ll-miss-her PM granted permission to form a six-and-a-half-week government by another Elizabeth, our late Queen.
Liz Truss always looked like she was born to break records, and she did just that. A 45-day premiership can be described in two ways: the shortest in British history (it easily was), or the more Anglo-Saxon description of the “three Ps”: piss-poor performance. At least, that’s how it looks. To anyone with a sense of how British politics works, she was the meat the lion-tamer throws to the lion so he doesn’t get attacked as food himself.
Truss did well in just over six weeks, mind you. She resembles a hotel maid who turns up to clean your room on a hot day and begins by pouring week-old, clotted milk over the carpet. Sunak is the dusky, progressivist, ex-Goldman Sachs, World Economic Forum placeman that career politicians on both sides of the chamber (as well as their media courtiers) wanted, and he is what they got. The accession of a Hindu to 10 Downing Street will annoy Muslims, unfortunately, although many of them seem annoyed most of the time.
Other than that, the strangely robotic and entirely charisma-free Sunak will continue to unravel British society, scupper the economy (he has already reinstated the ban on fracking Truss abolished), increase immigration, and report back to George Soros on a regular basis, just like Robin Williams used to do to Orson, if you are old enough to remember Mork and Mindy.
The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) are reasonably well-known for being just a touch authoritarian. We also know that they tend to take a lot of this impulse out on the people of Hong Kong. We — that would be the British, who handed Hong Kong back to China a quarter of a century ago — shrug our shoulders when a bunch of protesters are duffed up. It’s their country; they can do what they like. But here’s a conundrum for you. When a Hong Kong protestor was recently assaulted by Chinese officials, it took place on Chinese soil a few seconds after it took place on British soil.
A consulate is an extension of an embassy in that, legally and under international agreement, it is the territory of the host country. This is why Julian Assange could stay for so long in the Ecuadorian embassy in London — because he was not in the United Kingdom. He was in Ecuador.
The Chinese consulate in Manchester was the scene of protests by ex-citizens of Hong Kong — or “Greater China,” as the CCP think of it, along with Taiwan —at least one of whom was beaten by consular staff, who first dragged the man into the grounds of the consulate and thus, effectively, onto Chinese soil. This would be the same Chinese soil the man had left for the UK in the first place. And they say you can’t go home again.
One of the protestors’ objections was to the upcoming “election” in which President Xi will win a third term, and probably go on to rule for life. I have to say I sympathize. It is dull having the same old leader all the time, and the Chinese should learn from the British and switch leaders every few weeks.
One of the most nauseating habits of British people in the media spotlight has returned. Known as the “glottal stop,” this is the dropping of the hard letter T in speech, particularly from words containing two consecutive instances of this common consonant. The letter is what is called a “dental fricative” by linguists. Try it now. Say “two times two.” Your tongue probably touched the roof of your mouth just behind your upper teeth three times, unless you have a speech defect. But dropping the letter, for the British who wish to impress, is not due to impediment but to ideology.
This habit is not easily recognized by Americans, whose use of the hard “T” is generally reserved for words that begin with that letter. So, if Americans say “Today is Tuesday, and time to take out the trash!”, then the hard T will be pronounced as it would be by the English. If, however, an average American (please don’t tell me that your grammy doesn’t do this and so I am wrong) says, “It’s getting late and I’d better be letting the dog out,” you probably won’t hear a hard T. Phonetically and approximately, you will hear “Iss gedding laid and I bedder be ledding the dog ow.” (Canadians, of course, would finish that sentence with “oat”). There’s nothing wrong with it; it is just the way English mutated as a language when it crossed the Atlantic, or, as Americans tend to call it, “the Adlannic.” I love hearing the American accent, especially south of the Mason-Dixon Line.
It is hard to overstress how irritating the glottal stop is if you are English and don’t feel the need to speak like a mouth-breathing soccer fan. This vile and spiteful mangling of our fine language is generally used by those in the media who wish to appear as though they are in touch with the common people. Penny Mourdant (whose name sounds French, which means you would not pronounce the final T, just to confuse matters), the comely stalking-horse who for about five minutes went up against Sunak for the keys to 10 Downing Street, is obviously posher than I am (and although lower middle class, I speak with quite an affected accent because I live abroad, and it impresses both the natives and the Americans), but she has a tendency to employ this nauseating affectation. Have a listen here if you doubt me, particularly at the 30-second mark. She doesn’t do this in the House of Commons, but that is because she knows she can’t fool her Honorable Friends as easily as she can hoodwink the British media and thinks she can fool the British public. Talk properly, woman.
Tatchell not so gay
Peter Tatchell is one of those interesting human beings with whom I mostly disagree but who I still admire. Tatchell is a homosexual Lefty, yet despite his Leftism I still agree with him on many issues, one of which is the gross hypocrisy of the West in ignoring genuine homophobia in the Muslim world. I would add that the black world is also homophobic, but there isn’t really a black world worth the name, just an increasing incursion into a hitherto successful white world. The black world, outside of Africa, is the white world’s spare room, one they are beginning to wish they had never rented out.
Now, this is the bit where Western journalists used to write, “Some of my best friends are gay!” Unfortunately, I don’t have that defense as I have no friends. More broadly, however, I don’t really mind what chaps do with one another provided they don’t try to do it to me. The government of Qatar, however, take a different view.
Qatar is one of those “So what?” countries. No one knows where it is and no one cares. However, this mostly Muslim nation has persuaded — which may mean bribed — the world’s soccer authorities to allow them to host the next World Cup. Although the English team, surely one of many, will be wearing rainbow patches on their kit during the tournament, they won’t be wearing them to any pride parades. Qataris, and Muslims in general, are not too keen on chaps who are keen on chaps wearing chaps, if you follow me. Peter Tatchell travelled there for a one-man protest against Qatar’s policy on homosexual liaisons, which tends to be to take gays out and execute them.
Tatchell was detained for less than an hour for the protest. Then he was strongly urged to leave Qatar, which he did. This protest was a foolhardy act, but a brave one nonetheless. Over 20 years ago, Tatchell was beaten almost unconscious in Paris when he attempted to arrest the appalling Robert Mugabe, and so his valor can’t be questioned. Homophobia, unlike many other faddish phobias, unquestionably exists; it’s just that the media — and that includes the gay media — would always prefer to blame whites rather than blacks or Muslims, for whom it tends to be a default position.
Project Fear goes seasonal
Britons are all aware of Project Fear, whether they know what it is or are simply frightened. The term “Project Fear” was coined, I believe, around the time David Cameron (the first of the recent run on prime ministers) tried to save his job by telling Britons that if they voted for Britain leaving the European Union in 2016 their children would be born blind, crippled, and hare-lipped. Okay, okay, that’s not what he said, but the effect was the same. Vote to leave Europe, said Cameron, and it’s over for you. As it turned out, the people of Britain voted for so-called “Brexit” (which always sounds to me like some laxative breakfast cereal), and the only person who lost his job was Cameron.
But the globalists liked the idea. Fear, hmmm. That might come in useful someday . . . And, boy, did it ever. In the same way that, should you be so cold-hearted, you can scare cats and dogs with noisy mechanical toys, Western governments of the last decade have used Covid, climate change, racism, terrorism, Putin, white supremacy, Right-wing political beliefs, and just about anything going to try to scare the beejazus out of us, and now they have a new scary toy: energy.
The BBC has prepared a list of emergency announcements in the likely event of power outages this winter. This piece of advice is possibly the most extraordinary of the lot: “The emergency services are under extreme pressure. People are being advised not to contact them unless absolutely necessary.”
Now, I am sure you see the problem here. Absolutely necessary conditions due to which you would call emergency services would be, what — an emergency, perhaps?
The BBC is the result of Britain’s lack of a First Amendment, a “state broadcaster” (such a Stalinist phrase) who are required by law to be politically impartial. They are, as I am sure you are aware, as impartial as a drunken sports fan cheering on his team. But surely your license fee should buy you some sort of mental coherence, even if they are trying to scare you to death.
And finally . . .
Some heartwarming news. Even though the British police will not investigate your looted apartment, look for your stolen car, or protect your young daughters from being raped, you can rest assured that language is being policed as assiduously as ever. The latest word to fall foul of the thought police is “globalist,” and guess who is whining the loudest?
A debate has emerged in Britain over the term ‘globalist’, with elements of the legacy media and social media arguing that using the word to describe the political ideology of preferring super-state over state is actually a racist term against Jewish people.
Well, the Jews wrote the offense training manual that every victim group has read and inwardly digested ever since. If you want to kvetch about language, then learn from those who did it first and best. The row was sparked by Nigel Farage’s use of the term “globalist coup” to describe Rishi Sunak’s installation as British PM (as noted above). The globalists’ plans for the peasantry have been hidden in plain sight for some time, with Hungarian Jew George Soros as ideological Chief Rabbi and plenty of his co-religionists controlling the world’s media, corporations, and banks. But it doesn’t do to notice.
Those of us who are not Jewish, black, gay, cross-dressers, Muslims, Venusians, or whatever this week’s thing is are becoming mighty tired of being told what we can and can’t say.
God save the King! Someone’s going to have to.
The Union Jackal.
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