Thoughts of a Free Man

I do not despise this man. I am sure he believes that he is right and that is something to which we are all entitled. Opinion is not something that should be policed because it is an entitlement of the sentient being to use that with which God or nature has endowed him; his brain.

No, I do not despise him as a man but I despise him as a politician. He has used his intelligence to rise to a high office. His opinions, his thoughts and his decisions have profound impact upon the lives of millions of people. We cannot escape the consequences of his being where he is. We are prisoners to his ideas, his preferences and his policies.

The injustice of our captivity is compounded by the fact that he occupies his exalted position because many millions of Britons declined to vote in the General Election. His vote share was the lowest for decades. He governs not with the consent of the majority but by default. He simply received the largest share of a disconsolate and disinterested electorate.

Democracy in Britain is seriously sick. This is evident in many areas, none more so than in relation to immigration. I do not differentiate between legal and illegal immigration. Having been falsely promised in consecutive General Elections that immigration would be drastically reduced it could be said that all immigration is thereby tinged with the taint of illegality as it is known to be against the expressed wishes of the British people. Yet it remains at dizzying and dangerously high levels.

There are some who can escape the consequences and who have the means to flee from the storm. Some move abroad. Others sell up and move out of the towns and the cities to the suburbs or beyond. Yet, there remain those many who have not the means to escape. These are to be found on the estates and in the ‘poorer’ areas of our conurbations. These were once known as the home of the working class.

It is in these areas that the consequences of unlimited immigration are most strongly felt. What once were communities comprising people of similar backgrounds, language and outlook are now become melting pots of multiracial confusion. Yes, for the most part people appear able to rub along together, perhaps even enjoy the spice of difference. I would suggest though that given the option this would not be their first choice.

It is in such places and within such communities that the real pressures of a population explosion are most severely felt. Job availability is diminished, access to services is sorely strained, schools are overcrowded. The streets, landings, corridors and stairwells are dangerous places. Children cannot play freely as once they did. Strangers abound.

We have been warned time and again that the exasperation of such communities may one day boil over, that it may swell into anger, rage and fury, that a tinderbox has been laid and that all it will take is one match to set the whole situation aflame. Such were the events of last week when the wrath of the working class was unleashed.

To those who have joined their voice to the chorus of condemnation I ask a simple question; how else can such people express their feelings? Show me the avenue through which their frustrations and their despair can elicit change. The ballot box, it would seem holds no prospect of undoing the perceived wrongs that have been committed against them.

The Government has responded with a heavy hand. It has unleashed the dogs of law and order and ordered them to be brutal in their efficiency, to take back the streets and to stamp out the flames. Yet, this is a fire of their own making.

It has been said before that Labour would one day cease to represent the working class. I would contend that this prophecy has now been fulfilled in our sight. Those who are oppressed by a policy of multicultural melding that they did not choose have expressed themselves in the only way they can, through the only avenue that has been left open to them.

When the Prime Minister went to Southport in his high security cavalcade of sympathy, he did not speak with the hoi polloi. Instead, he visited those who are now known as ‘First Responders’ and thanked them for what they had done. This was not a bad thing in itself. What made it bad was that it was the only thing he did. He was never going to be questioned or criticised by the Police, the Emergency Service of the Fire Service. He was guaranteed a warm handshake and a respectful smile. No such civility would have been displayed had he walked amongst the common people.

For now, the angry folk have been squeezed back into the box. There will no doubt be further outrages; more innocents will lose their lives; none of us can say where, when or how it will come to pass but we can say for certain that it will. Such is the state of Broken Britain.

No, I do not despise the man. I just hope he has the sense to realise the danger implicit in the way he has chosen to proceed. That said, past experience does not suggest that I should invest too much of a degree of hope in the outcome.
 

© Judas was Paid 2024