We’re Still Shooting The Messenger

I am getting more than peeved with the ‘pseudo righteous’  Sheeple out in the field with the herd that get all opinionated over the matter of racial discrimination.

In my less ‘wooly’ view,  most of them should concentrate in munching the grass to make themselves fat  (Is this a term of discrimination?)  ready for the slaughterhouse.

Let us work from the premise that we all agree as to what is written by the United Nations, namely:

‘The term “racial discrimination” shall mean any distinction, exclusion, restriction, or preference based on race, colour, descent, or national or ethnic origin that has the purpose or effect of nullifying or impairing the recognition, enjoyment or exercise, on an equal footing, of human rights and fundamental freedoms in the political, economic, social, cultural or any other field of public life.’

I have and would hope that all fair minded peoples would also have, absolutely no problem with this.

However, where I do have a problem is, ……. but wait,  first some background:

In 1968 Enoch Powell made his infamous ‘Rivers of Blood’ speech.

This was a speech in which he showed his grave concern over the numbers of immigrants likely to arrive in Britain during the next 20 years.:

“In 15 or 20 years, on present trends, there will be in this country three and a half million Commonwealth immigrants and their descendants. That is not my figure. That is the official figure given to parliament by the spokesman of the Registrar General’s Office.”

If anything Powell seems to have underestimated the numbers of immigrants that would come to Britain.

Please also pay attention to the fact that nowhere in his speech did he step out of line with the aforementioned UN declaration.

His speech was solely concerned with  immigration

Powell was a realist, not a racist. But sadly, he was too intelligent to be understood by the man in the street as to what his metaphor was describing.

Just as no one in the film ‘Casablanca’ actually says “Play it again, Sam,” this is the closest that the “Rivers of Blood” speech actually gets to its common title.

What’s the story behind the line that cemented Powell’s reputation for racist rhetoric?

Powell is quoting a prophecy from ‘Virgil’s Aeneid’, the Roman epic telling the mythological tale of the founding of Rome. (In this case Britain)

The story goes like this:

On arriving in Italy after many trials and tribulations, the Trojan warrior Aeneas consults a priestess, the Sibyl, to find out how his plans to create the new empire will turn out.

Her reply includes the now infamous line quoted by Powell:

She tells Aeneas that in the process of creating Rome, she saw wars and the ‘River Tiber foaming with blood’.

Her fears, were, as those of Powell, that a multi-cultural society in the new Roman Empire (1968 Britain plus 20 years) was not likely to be accepted by the common people if it was implemented too fast and would lead to civil strife.

IN 1968 The political media and all the ‘Labour Lovees’ had a field day! And to this day, Enoch Powell is still vilified as being the quintessential Racist.

This damning of a brilliant mind by the quasi intelligent robot, who gets its news from the “Daily 3ply” and its opinions from “Reality University Get Me Out of Here” is where all our problems start.

Here is another quote from Powell made after the speech, having been asked if he was a racist.

“What I would take ‘racialist’ to mean is a person who believes in the inherent inferiority of one race of mankind to another, and who acts and speaks in that belief. So the answer to the question of whether I am a racialist is ‘no’—unless, perhaps, it is to be a racialist in reverse. I regard many of the peoples in India as being superior in many respects—intellectually, for example, and in other respects—to Europeans. Perhaps that is over-correcting.”

I don’t know about you, but it sounds remarkably consistent with the UN declaration above!

In 1947 I emigrated to South Africa from England (It wasn’t referred to as the UK then) with  my parents  in worst winter in living memory.

At that time we lived in Sheffield, so as you might imagine, if you have any idea of the location of Sheffield you will understand that it was very cold and very bleak that Winter.

I am pretty sure that I was not aware of different cultures at that time.

Certainly I had not encountered either black, yellow, nor brown faces in the flesh, so to speak.

The first arrivals into Britain were in 1948 from the West Indies (the year after we left) and were made up of between four to five hundred on their way to find their fortune in Australia.  They alighted from the MV Empire Windrush  and were housed in South London whilst awaiting transport onwards.

Some of them stayed.

In 1998, an area of public open space in Brixton was renamed Windrush Square to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the arrival of these West Indians.

Was I aware that there were different cultures that were made up with people who had a different colour of skin?

I doubt it.

I was soon to be educated.

My first encounter with black people was at the foot of the of the steps leading down from a BOAC  ‘Super Constellation’ ( A magnificent aeroplane designed Howard Hughes) which was our transport to South Africa.

We had landed at Kano in Northern Nigeria on  a very hot dark night on our way to Johannesburg.

I still remember the smell of hot earth, chirping crickets and other strange night sounds.

It was then that I met my first black ‘native’  selling his ‘craft’ from a small table.

My parents bought two small Springbok made from resin and pelt. I was to keep these for many years.

Then on to South Africa!

This old photo is of George holding my hand. George was the man who looked after me whilst my father was busy at his work in Pretoria.

When we returned home to England, I spent my school years in Devon. I was still colour blind!

At the age of 12 years my best friend was Winston Lambert a West Indian. He and I were never apart.

The strangest thing is, that when I look back at those years, I realise now that I never ‘saw’ his colour.

Hind-sight they say, is a wonderful thing and I now realise that he of course was totally aware of being ‘different’.

He and his family lived in Exeter, the county Town of Devon.

As the locals would have remarked at the time “There b’aint be too many of them Darkies yer”

And they were right, hardly a one!

Of courseI knew that Winnie was different to me, but only as different as was a boy with red hair. And of course the cultural differences of his family life with regard to cooking etc.

Only when I moved to London (South London) did I get influenced by my peers who, in the main were a fairly bigoted bunch.

This experience did not change me and my beliefs even though, to my shame, I never had the integrity to ‘walk away’ from them when they made racist comments or act provocatively towards black people.

I  eventually found my way into the Army and as anyone knows who has been ‘Institutionalised’, these are not the best places to experience love of your fellow man especially if he is in any way ‘non-white’.

So what is the Rant?

It is simply this. If you are born a moron and you insist in being a moron throughout your life, then you must not complain if somebody eventually tells you that you are a moron!

If someone has a party every night from Midnight to 4am, I  will tell him that it is unacceptable and that he is being a moron for not thinking of his fellow man..

It is of no matter to me whether he is a white moron or a non-white moron.

He must not however, play a racist card if he happens to be the latter.

If he says “Fuck off you ‘Old’ C**t!  Am I likely to go running to the law and insist on my rights with regard to ageism.?No. But why not?  The law allows us to do just that.

Because it would be stupid!

Black people feel that they have generally had a rough deal for a few centuries .

There is a discussion to be had as to how much more of a rough deal if any, when compared to others , but that’s for another time perhaps.

The hangover of this perception, whether it be true or false is that it becomes a ‘crutch’ to lean on through the generations.

I call this the ‘I didn’t get the job because’ syndrome.

The fair minded among us are now so nervous in saying the ‘wrong’ word or phrase in this ‘PC’ state of ours that we cannot hope to find equality in society.

So now we have the ludicrous scenario where, when a black person attains his or her ambition (apart from sport), they are left wondering why they reached their goal. “Did I get here for the right reasons”?

It annoys me  that the powers that be, constantly drill into us that all men should be treated as equals.

This is exactly what I want!

Freedom! ….Freedom to yell at a Black man or a Jew or a Catholic or an Indian or an Irishman or a Gay person or a Red head as they in turn must be free to yell at me. This surely is true equality!

I don’t need someone to tell me, admonish me or take me to court if in their view I have abused someone verbally.

There is an astounding amount of Hypocrisy within all levels of our society.

If you are driving your car and you are ‘cut up’ by a large woman in a dangerous manner, I would lay good odds that you might be  shouting abuse such as the following in the heat of the moment. “You stupid fat bitch” rather than “I say lady, be careful you almost made me crash!”

If we are truly honest with ourselves, we can write the same scenario with different characters:

Bald, Old, Grey Haired, Thin, Short, the list is endless but certainly does not start and end with the word BLACK.

When the ‘thought police’ eventually have access to what is left of our minds, only then will we be able ascertain how many people are true racist bigots and those who are ordinary folk wanting to get on with their lives with freedom of expression as well as thought.

To have all the nonsense over two moronic football players, one Black, the other White, spread over the past 12 months or more,  says a lot about us and the culture in which we live.

Unfortunately it is men and not women who decide our nonsensical rules.

Had Women been involved in the above case, maybe that offending word which debases a woman’s vagina, may have been viewed the more serious issue than the word black, which is after all only that, a a word which describes a colour.

Some more words to get upset about!


One comment

  1. I agree. Not so keen on the sizeism one either!


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