The Eighth Age Of Britain

As I sit here in front of my computer, looking out over snow-covered farms (thank Yahweh for global warming), yet another helicopter overflies my house, bound for the North Sea with 18 men and women on board. They will spend New Year exploring the sea bed for more oil or they will spend the time on a production platform ensuring that the black gold continues to head back to the refineries of Britain. I wonder how long those helicopters will continue to move people to and from those installations as we race towards peak oil. I wonder about the future of our nation a lot these days. What will it look like ten, twenty, or thirty years down the road?

Sometimes, to know where we are going, we need to know where we have been, and where we came from. My interest in history has increased exponentially of late. So, much to the chagrin of my herd, I parked my arse in front of the telly box yesterday and watched all seven one hour episodes of Bettany Hughes "Seven Ages Of Britain". It was fascinating, to say the least, and I thoroughly enjoyed the nine thousand year romp through our islands' history. If you get the chance, please watch it. If, like so many, you imagine that you have pure British blood coursing through your veins, you are in for a disappointment. Up to 40% of our DNA is Middle Eastern. We truly are a mongrel nation, and no amount of posturing by the BNP will change that fact.

The past is what it was. We cannot alter that, but we do have a say in what will be. Yesterday, my free copy of "Ten Years On- Britain Without The European Union" arrived, courtesy of The Taxpayers Alliance and it is, predictably, an incredible little book. It was, and is, my belief that the vast majority of Britons (can we still call ourselves that?) have absolutely no idea just how far those EU tentacles reach. For an idea of just how encroaching these unelected thieves are, here is a quote:

"If you traded something, made something, sold something, ran something, policed something, protected something, transported something, communicated something, fished something, grew something, burnt something, buried something, stored something, repaired something, bought something, spent something, exchanged something, taught something, learned something, powered something, healed something, published something, researched something, reported something, supported something, Brussels had a say in it".

We have managed without belonging to a European Superstate for over 2,000 years. This book asks if we can continue to manage without them. Their conclusion, unsurprisingly, mirrors my own: Yes, yes, yes indeed. We "voluntarily" pay in £60 million every day of every week of every month, every year. We get very little of the freshly laundered money back. And this at a time when we so desperately need to take care of our own, government created, debt. If ever there was a good time to say goodbye to the EU, it is now.


So I wondered what the Eighth Age Of Britain would look like to my grandchildren, or their grandchildren. Except we are no longer called Britain. Don't worry, that will be beaten out of us in the next five to ten years, along with our childish need to use our "British pounds". Feet and inches clearly belong to savages, as do silly things like miles and pounds and ounces. We will be assimilated, for there can only be one way, one rule, one law. Will future generations, bar-coded, tagged, micro-chipped and GPS'ed, (for their own safety, of course), look back with a wry shake of the head, and say "Can you believe they resisted for so long for such an out-moded concept as freedom?". We are being encouraged, right now, to take snapshots of buildings that dare to burn lights when no-one is in, and send them off to Stasi Central, so the Righteous can punish the miscreants. Our children are being interrogated at school on mum and dads behaviour. Do they smoke? Do they drink? Do they strap you in when driving? Do they recycle? If the kids answer incorrectly, an "Intervention Unit" will be along smartly to re-educate.

There must be an upside, surely? Yup. We now have no borders. We no longer need to show identification to travel within Europe. Give it a try, why don't you? I can't even fly from Aberdeen to fucking London with waving my passport at someone in a uniform. How the hell do I get to Prague, or Hamburg, or Amsterdam without showing the Stasi that I am a legitimate European? The law says that I do not need a passport to leave or enter my own country, unless we are at war with a sovereign nation. The last time I looked, no such condition existed. It hasn't, in fact, since the end of WWII. Our "differences" with other nations have been mere "conflicts" or "disputes". Understatements all, particularly when you consider how many brave servicemen and women gave their lives, their legs, their eyes or their sanity, to take part in these "disputes". I was fortunate during my seven years with the British Army not to visit those places where lead poisoning at the speed of sound was prevalent. I sort of regretted that at the time, but not any longer. Today, I wouldn't risk a fingernail for this country. It is no longer mine. It is no longer ruled by the monarch I served. It is no longer governed by British politicians. It no longer has control over her own destiny. On 1st December 2009 we entered servitude. We became serfs of the superstate. 61 million people lost their nationhood, their identities, their ethnicity, their law, their opinions, and their freedom.

Will our grandchildren thank us for this? Will they say we did the right thing by doing absolutely nothing to prevent this cancerous growth? Will they say we were right not to rebel?

I think not.

Welcome to Britains Eighth Age. The Age Of Control. The Age Of Serfdom.

This is slavery in all but name.

I am disgusted with you. I am disgusted that you stood by and allowed this to happen.

I am disgusted with myself. I am disgusted that I stood by and allowed this to happen.

But mostly, I am frightened for my children. And their children.

At best, I have another 30 years to endure this. My death releases me, but before that time comes, I will fight. And fight.

And fight.

CR.