I have asked Leg-Iron to allow me to repost this little message here. So I have. I hope it transfers without any messing up of links.
First, a parable. Apply it to whatever you like.
There was once an unfenced hill where a flock of sheep lived.
One rainy day, a man came to talk to them. “It's cold and wet here. How can you stand it?” he asked.
“It's
not so bad,” said the sheep. ” We get up when we like, there's plenty
to eat, and life is pretty good most of the time. It's raining now but
we can just go under the trees if it gets too much. It will stop
eventually. We have our freedom, and to us that's the most important
thing.”
“It looks awful,” the man said. “And how do you know it
will stop raining? It might go on for weeks. Your land might become
swampy and all your grass might be washed away. Tell you what, there is
a big building over there. It's warm and dry inside. I will make it let
you in. It's only fair. You deserve better than this.”
“Is there grass to eat?” the sheep asked.
“No,
but I will make the building provide hay. I will make it provide a
place to sleep and food to eat and you need do nothing to earn it.
You'll be warm and dry and still you'll be free. Really, it's best to
take my offer just in case, don't you think? Surely you can see it's
for your benefit?”
Some of the sheep were suspicious. “What do you get out of it?”
“Me?
Nothing.” The man smiled. “And once in a while, I'll invite the most
special of you to come and live in a special flock where life will be
more wonderful than you have ever known. Of course, you won't all be
able to join that flock at once but I promise, every one of you will
pass through the Golden Doorway eventually.”
The sheep
considered. A few distrusted the man and refused to go with him, but
most accepted his kind offer. They laughed and scoffed at those who
chose to stay in the rain while they filed obediently into the man's
dry, warm abbatoir.
_________
And now, a rant.
Does
anyone remember the 'stiff upper lip' of the British? The fighting
spirit? The indomitable people who once ran a big chunk of the planet,
and who could chase away armed guerillas with a walking stick and an
angry voice? A people who, nevertheless, could laugh at themselves and
had a great, if sometimes cruel, sense of humour? What happened to them?
Those people would never have set off a security scare because a schoolboy dressed up as the Joker and waved a plastic gun around. Those people would never have arrested a man in fancy dress because he had a plastic knife as part of his outfit (tipped by anon in the comments here). Those people would not have shrieked 'Terrorist!' at the sight of a plastic halloween skeleton.
The first might have earned a caning, but not expulsion. The second and
third should not even have raised an eyebrow. Neither should Old Holborn's walk.
The
people who replaced those real British are spineless weaklings who jump
at shadows. Who call the police if they are slightly offended by a word
or two. Worse, the police respond not by saying 'It's nothing, don't
worry about it', but by harassing and usually arresting anyone
complained about, no matter how trivial and all too often, no matter
whether an offence has been committed or not.
These new people
are quaking, trembling jellys. They are frightened by mere words, and
terrified by a raised hand. They take offence at anything they're told
to take offence at. Those who consider themselves strong are those who
have not yet experienced adversity because when they do, they run to
the government for help. They cannot help themselves. They will not try.
Oh,
there are a few real people left, for sure, but they are only a few.
Most are now soft, weak loathsome creatures who stare at the unreality
of reality TV from their well-pressed sofas and aim their rage wherever
the Righteous tell them. The two minute hate. One day smokers, next day
drinkers, next day hoodies, next the obese, next Eurasia… or is it
Eastasia? Doesn't matter. We are at war with the terrorists. We have
always been at war with the terrorists.
These people who once
called themselves the Great of Great Britain (can we still use that
name for this country, or is it not considered sufficiently
self-humiliating now?) are useful only for rendering into animal feed.
They accept every word they are fed and have no problem at all with the
doublethink required to accept it all. Coal-fired power stations will
kill us all through global warming. We must build huge windmills
everywhere to save the environment and we must not install new power
lines underground because that would harm the environment. Snow in
October? That's caused by global warming.
They obsess about
their carbon footprint while having no idea what carbon is, they accept
that the same number of alcohol units apply to each and every person,
that if they allow a ninety-year-old smoker within a hundred yards of
them in the open air, they will die the next day from lung cancer. They
accept that one ageing rock perv who everyone recognises because his
face has been all over the news will sneak up unnoticed and steal their
children, and they accept that social services can take children from
parents for any reason they feel like making up.
They accept
that everything that happens to them is someone else's fault and that
they are entitled to compensation for it, and they accept that events
on the other side of the planet are all the fault of the British.
Doublethink.
All of it. And those minds, once the envy of the world, are now so numb
and feeble that they cannot see any contradiction in the information
drifting into them. None of it is sorted, categorised, analysed or
considered. Every last bit of nonsense is accepted as if God himself
delivered it to them.
Today I heard that Sainsbury's is offering education, including basic literacy and maths education to its staff.
Good God, what is going on when the supermarkets have to do the job our
schools once did? Basic literacy and maths. Hardly a part-time degree,
is it? They have set a target of 25% of staff having a qualification
within five years. While I think what Sainsbury's is doing here is
commendable, the fact remains that they should not have to. We used to
have schools. Now we have indoctrination centres and that is just
accepted by those sofa-bound parents. They will see no contradiction in
wasting years at school only to start earning basic GCSE's after a
spell of trolley-pushing.
When did this happen? When was the
spirit sucked out of the people of this country? It was no overnight
thing. It started small and spread like fungus throughout the land. It
began with the best intentions, as these things always do. It began
when those who had no jobs were entitled to a small government payment
to keep them going until they found work. That, in itself, was not the
problem. Work was always the better option and the dole was an
embarassing place to be. Oh, yes, there were a few who were happy with
that dole cheque and happy to sit back and do nothing but for most, it
wasn't enough.
Then came free housing, free gas and electricity,
a host of freebies and a wide range of tax-funded benefits until
unemployment was more profitable than most of the lower-paid jobs. The
idea that those lower-paid jobs were just a start, that they could lead
into better-paid jobs, seems to have been lost. The people settled back
to claim, spend, and claim some more. Their bodies fell into disuse,
their brains atrophied by the drivel pouring from the little box in the
corner. That box now occupies half the wall in some living rooms, in
accordance with its status in those people's lives. In many houses,
most rooms have them. You can even buy pocket ones. The mind-numbing
output is everywhere.
Now they are confused by contradictions
their conditioning insists they accept without question. Why question,
when some vestige of their minds already knows there is no answer? Just
accept it and have another beer. Drown the confusion with a chaser of
something fluorescent. Bodies flaccid, minds baffled, they accept that
they are obese because they eat the wrong kind of food, not because
they eat too much and do too little. It's not their fault, you see? If
only they had more benefits, they could afford fruit to eat while they
watch three hundred channels on their 60-inch flat screen with surround
sound. The contradiction is whisked away by doublethink.
There
are a few real people left. Some who are fit and healthy, some with
intelligence, some to whom these contradictions are obvious. A few who
would, if they could, wake up the zombies the British have become and
urge them once more to innovate, to fend for themselves, to reach for
those stars they once looked up to see.
To dismiss insulting
words not as 'offensive' but as 'the ramblings of a fool'. To stand up
for those rights they once had instead of allowing them to be taken
away one by one. To think their own thoughts once more. To see those
contradictions for what they are, and to analyse and deny them. To take
back their lives.
Can they be woken? I am sure some can. I am
sure some of the British can be revived. If I thought there was no hope
at all I would not be writing this.
For many, it's far too late.
For many, there can be no escape from that sleep they believe to be
real life. They will spend their time displaying Pavlovian offence at
anything that is pointed out to them. They will bleat 'Baaan' on
command. They will enjoy the daily two minute hate, and agree like
those sheep that while they can no longer do the things they used to
enjoy, the slaughterhouse is at least warmer than the field. Those are
the British now. Those are the 'vast majority' the Righteous love to
quote at dissenters.
It can be dangerous to wake sleepwalkers,
and we know that the shepherds will try to prevent it, but if we do
nothing then that abbatoir will expand up our hillside until it is
covered. In the end, the choice is simple. Take the risk or join them
in the warmth of oblivion.
The rain does stop. They just need to be reminded of that.
