September 28, 2012

Friday Funnies

After the last post, I could do with a smile or two. The following do not always deliver, but I tried.

I have searched high and low for these images.

"Yo Horm...Hermy.. Hermonene. Adrian. Yo Adrian!"

WTF has he done to that cat?

New Facebook button. Only available on MPs pages, apparently.

I'm an hour early but WTF. All of you. Go home on full pay.

Detectives track down the guy that did that fresco.

I've ordered two.

Fair enough. I'm going.

And finally....

Worst. Death. Scene. Ever.

That's it.

Have a luvverly weekend.


Rape And Theft


There is nothing on earth I find more wrong than raping children, but this week we learnt that Rochdale Council and the local plod did fuck all about it. For more than ten years.

Why not?

Mostly, it appears, because the savages who carried out the grooming, drugging and raping of these underage girls were.....brown. Yes, yes. I know I used the words "savages" and "brown" in the same sentence. Fucking sue me.

This report from the Daily Mail (my apologies), reads like a horror story. Even the DM reporter felt the need to soften the article as she changed the word "rape" to "abuse".

EDIT: You could be forgiven that the kiddie-fiddlers only reside in the north. Not so. Read this

I have long hated the very concept of political correctness and this story is a staggering example in support of its' abolition. Council workers, terrified at the prospect of accusing the gang of Muslim freaks, simply turned a blind eye. For more than a decade.

The police, may all those involved be struck down with something nasty, were equally afraid to apply the law. Spineless cowards, is what they are. Not fit to serve. Sack them all and sack them today. No pension, no more payments, nothing. Except scorn. They deserve lashings of scorn. They ignored the young girls when they tried to report the crimes. For that the police must be punished.

Animals, all of them. That the Muslim gang are scum is a given, but the council workers and the police should be sent to gaol as well. Nobody in this clusterfuck did their jobs. No-one took responsibility, and that makes them all guilty. No-one understood the term "duty of care" concerning these young vulnerable kids, and for that they must be punished.

Let's make no mistake here: the brown savages are the guilty ones here, but they were ably assisted by all the right people. No-one comes out of this disgusting and disturbing mess smiling. Be ashamed. All of you. And the next time you DEMAND respect for the police and/or social services, read this story again. Until the message gets into your thick skull.


Naturally, any story about theft on this blog will involve the government. This is no exception.

Gormless Dave turned up at the UN in New York to strut, preen and brag in front of a global audience. This was after he humiliated every single one of us on the Letterman Show by NOT knowing what Magna Carta meant. I took this as a personal insult because I wrote to him after he took office and I forcefully reminded him about this world-changing Treaty. He ignored me. The cunt.

Back to the UN, where he had this to say.

In a nutshell, we ever-generous Britons will give away £1 BILLION per month in foreign aid. Were you asked if you wanted your taxes to be given away like this? Me neither. £12 billion of OUR money will be sent abroad to fund life-changing programmes for the poor, the hungry, and the down-trodden so that the warlords and the despotic leaders can salt it away in offshore accounts for their old age. They may or may not spend huge chunks of it on standard AK-47's for their enforcers, or, God bless them, for 22 carat plated AK's for themselves. No tyrant worth his salt is without a gold-plated weapon on his shelf.

Will we bother to check who is spending our money on what? Will we fuck.

We will just keep on saying nothing while the taxman helps himself.


Just fucking marvelous.


September 26, 2012

Mid Week Mirth

I should really call it Mid Week Mix.

This week there are some gruesome images. Of MPs. If you are of a nervous disposition, look away now.

PlebGate No 1.

PlebGate No 2.

"Special delivery for the innocent family of nine at No 36".

Well, it made me laff.

Come to Spain, where WE kettle the police.

 One for the Apple fanboyz.

Yeah, like that's funny.

Amen to that.

Oh, if you ever wanted to see Sean Bean die, 21 times, this YouTube clip is the one for you.

And finally...

I should be fucking anorexic by now....


September 24, 2012

Police Deaths

Taking a slight detour from Nommies post I thought I'd do a comparison of the numbers involving people killed by the police and police killed by the people.

Since 1990, 1,439 people have died whilst coming into "contact" with the police. Please note that this figure is for England & Wales only. Numbers for Scotland are harder to find. Likewise, Northern Ireland figures will be much higher than normal because of "The Troubles".

How, I wondered, did the police fare? Without forgetting that every one of these deaths is a tragedy, the police are not as badly off as we are. Since 1900, 300 officers are said to have died in the line of duty.

Since 1680, the total is said to be 5,000. These figures do, however, include deaths from those in service in the Colonies.

When an officer/constable or, in the case below, a Watchman dies on duty, it doesn't matter how he died. Dying in service includes natural causes as well as accidents.

Look at these from Scotland:

"Watchman Joseph Collie, Died 26 October 1835. Blown into the dock and drowned while on duty on a stormy night."


"Acting Detective Sergeant Patrick Burns, Died 10 December 1985, aged 38

Detective Sergeant David Ellis, Died 10 December 1985, aged 30. Killed together in a police car accident in icy road conditions at Aberdeen."

All three are tragic losses, but they hardly compare to the De Menezes case where, just for being an electrician, a firearms officer pumped 10 rounds into his head. 

The above info, and much more on deaths in service, can be found here 

The link concerning civilian deaths is here

The message, if there is one, is that we have much, much more to fear from the police than they do of us. 

And, if we decide to arm the police then I want a gun of my own. I am 80 times more likely to need it to protect myself from them, as I am from Al Qaeda.



September 23, 2012

Warrior Nation?

Or have we morphed into the Worrier Nation?

When I tell people (tete a tete) what I am up to, they invariably (and, I believe, subconsciously), take a step back. I can almost see them thinking "How dare you? How very dare you question anything? We are, after all, the last bastion of civilisation!".

I hope not. I truly hope not. Because if we are, then we are deeper in the mire than even I imagined.

Once upon a time in the long ago, we were an arrogant, belligerent, feisty race of people. And why not? After all, we dared to roam, we dared to seek, discover, and ultimately, conquer. We were good at it. Yes, we subjugated half the world, we had them bow down to our will, and in return we exported (mostly) that which was the best of the British race. Roads, sanitation, order, dignity, courtesy, respect, calm, authority, and erm, tea.

But as I say, that was a while ago now. Most of those who were subjugated unsubjugated themselves. In the name of independence and progress, they threw off the yoke of Britishness and ploughed their own furrow. For the most part, it has been a dismal failure, at least, for the Anglophile nations in Africa. This is not a bold, unsubstantiated claim, because I have witnessed for myself their regression. When we got there nothing functioned well, so we "sorted it out" and when these nations were granted independence in the late fifties and early sixties it has mostly been a race to see which country could regress the fastest. Back, they went, to the same old, same old. Corruption, cronyism, disruption and decay.

Again, why not?

All they needed to do was to look at us, in the old country, for an example of how the wheel turns.

Anglophile nations looking to us now will see themselves mirrored almost perfectly. They will see self-serving "leaders", politicians, authoritarian doctors who say we must do as they wilt, a police force that allows for convicted criminals still to serve in the ranks, and worse, at higher and higher levels. They will see scientists sell their souls for the next research grant. They will notice that a free people needs to be observed, constantly, by almost five million cameras. They will see bad banks go unpunished, or even rewarded for abject failure. They will see failed politicians welcomed back into the fold following a brief period in the hinterland.

They will learn, as we all do, that corruption pays. That promises made can be unmade and barely anyone will notice, far less complain. They will see that police brutality is condoned. They will see that police incompetence goes unremarked. They will learn from us the art of the cover-up. They will learn, from our country's "finest", how to blame the innocents for their own failings.

One thing they learnt long before we did: elections (unless completely rigged), are utterly pointless. There are 56 nations in Africa and for the most part, those who were "elected" post-independence, sit in the same chair still. If not them, then family members, or members of their own cadre, the cadre of the greedy.

We have yet to learn that voting, signing petitions, asking MPs for assistance, or assuming fair play from a bobby or a judge, is pure insanity. We trust almost anyone with a title. Or a degree, or indeed, anyone that merely claims a superior learning. We believe them. We are children. We give these people far more credence than they could possibly deserve. God help us, but we trust them.

And why is that?

Because it was ever thus.

And it is unlikely to change. We want these people to run our lives. We ask them to ban stuff, for our own good. We even pay them to run our miserable lives. We pay them to punish us. We pay them to tell us what we should eat, drink, smoke, or otherwise do with our bodies. We secede control of our bodies and our minds. We think the way we are supposed to think. We assume that things will never change because if we wanted change, we would vote for it. We would take a good, hard look at the MPs we have voted for in the past and we would think, "What if?".

What if we voted for someone who had our concerns, our worries, our problems? What if we elected someone who actually cared? What if that person with the bright rosette actually had our interests at heart?

We don't. We tend to stick to those parties Mum/Dad/Uncle Fred/Aunty Jean voted for. We stick, rigorously, to class. Makes sense, right? If we are working class, we vote Labour. If we are middle- to upper class, we go with the Conservatives. If we have no clue whatsoever, we vote LibDem.

We do this because we have changed. We have changed from Warrior to Worrier.

We worry that if we picked an independent, or someone that someone, somewhere in the family might disapprove of, we would be castigated. We worry that if, as a working class chump, we didn't vote Labour, we would somehow be betraying our roots. We worry that if some party with radically new ideas got in, ideas that worked, or didn't, we would be to blame. It would be our fault that the country failed.

Except that the country has already failed.

Take this sentence, received today in my inbox as part of a wider discussion:

"Indeed so, but we are now only permitted to live here, it is no longer our country so we have no say in how it is governed. The people decided to give our country away by tacit consent."

Ask yourself: is this the country I want for myself? Is this the legacy I want for my children? For their children? For their children's children?

If the answer is yes, then I have no idea what to say to you. I do not know how your thought processes work. I do not know what you would eventually settle for if what you have today does not disturb you in the least. And don't go comparing our country with others. That is a pointless exercise. We are (supposedly) in charge of our own affairs. What others do, in this context, is neither here nor, indeed, there.

If your answer was no, then there is hope. It means that you will dare to vote for someone other than red, blue or whatever colour the other lot wear. Or, even more radically, you will not vote at all. You won't vote because you already know that it is an exercise in futility. You know that the next lot will be the same, or worse, than the last lot.

Forget, if you can, the threat that the EU actually is. Or that Common Purpose, or the Freemasons, or the Bilderburgers, or the fabled NWO direct it all. Forget them, because if we were truly motivated, we could destroy these groups in a heartbeat.

Worry, instead.

We need to be a Worrier Nation.

We need to be because everything seems to get systematically worse than before. Year on year. I do not want to take my last breath and think that I did a good job. I do not want to kid myself that I left a good country for my children to inherit. I didn't. I can't. We can't.

Unless we do some radical things. Like switching off the telly. Like not buying the newspapers. Like thinking for ourselves. Like assuming that the system is corrupt beyond anything we have ever known. Like learning to say no. Like learning to question absolutely everything.

We need worriers.

We also need warriors.

If we can find a way to combine them both, there may be a chance that we can do some good, you and I.


September 22, 2012

September 04, 2012

The Bexley Petiton & The Right to Recall

(Guest post by Olly Cromwell).

Many of you will not know who I am, and will probably thank the gods that you don't. The good Captain has most graciously allowed me to pop a guest post up. Thanks old chap! To start I'd like to give an introduction, which I feel is necessary just so you have a little background to work with.

I started blogging about three years ago, I'd been reading "the big guns" of the blogging world for a while before I decided that it looked like a lot of fun and that plenty of mischief could be caused in the process. The Captain, Old Holborn and others through their writing and shenanigans showed me that the only word you really need in your vocabulary is NO! Of course it helps to have a few other words too, in my case plenty of swear words, real bad swear words. Swear words that have seen me arrested, charged, convicted, sentenced and later acquitted on appeal.

I blog about local politics, more specifically politics in the London Borough of Bexley. I started blogging about Bexley after I first moved here and experienced a council meeting for the very first time. At the time I thought it would be a good idea to film said meeting, and managed to do so but in doing so started a chain reaction of events which eventually lead to the aforementioned arrest. In my time as a "local blogger" I have encountered fraud, corruption, hypocrisy (quelle surprise), nepotism, theft, lies, deceit in short a huge amount of fuckwittery. I blogged about it all in my "unique style".

I decided that I was going to say NO to absolutely everything the council did, quite simply because the chances they'd get anything right were pretty slim. I was a constant thorn in their side for months, that is until they banned me from attending council meetings for being "disruptive". In fact, all I was doing was exercising my right to express dissent at every opportunity I could get.

The one stand out thing I noticed when dealing with the council was that not many (in fact closer to none) people actually attended council meetings and as a result the council were and still are doing anything they want, regardless of the legalities involved. I'm not going to go into too much detail here, if you want you can visit my site (Parental Advisory) or you can go to a tamer version written by another blogger. (

Plenty of people bitch and moan that the government this and the government that, but unless you're actually taking an active part in what's going on nothing will change. Nothing. I happen to be one of "the other" crowd, that will continue to fight as long and as hard as I can until something does change. And that leads me quite nicely to the crux of this post. It's partly a shameless plug for a project I am working on but is mostly to ask you for your help, and I would really appreciate it if you could help, who knows it may be the start of something big. It's a rather ambitious project, I have no budget to speak of so will mostly be relying on social media and word of mouth to achieve the ultimate goal.

We should all know what the "right to recall" is, if you don't here's a quick definition:

Recall is the right or procedure by which a public official may be removed from a position by a vote of the people prior to the end of the term of office

Quite simple really. Most perfectly though all 3 "big" parties support it too (spits), and there is even a mention of the "right to recall" in the coalition agreement.,2009-09-29 - Gordon Brown speech - David Cameron speech - Lib Dems Political Reform - Coalition Agreement

Since all 3 parties support the principle of the "right to recall" it stands to reason that they'd not be opposed to that principle being applied to local councillors. More specifically in this case Bexley councillors.

Now like most people I mostly think petitions are a waste of time, they don't normally achieve a lot, apart from registering the gripes of a certain group of people, and further than that the petition goes nowhere. It's happened here in Bexley, the council flat out refused to acknowledge a petition signed by over 2000 of its residents (The petition was calling for a cap on council official's salaries quite rightly).

Now the good Captain is always preaching about playing "The Powers That Be" at their own game,so I did a little bit of research, and I was pretty shocked, pleasantly so, at what I found. Here's the educational bit of this post:

Did you know that, according to the Local Government Act 2000 that if a petition is signed by 5% of a local authority's electorate that they (the authority) are obliged to hold a local referendum?

You can read about it here: (explanatory notes) (sections 34, 35, 36)

So, what I've done is set up a petition site ( asking for the council leader to give the residents of Bexley the "right to recall" their local councillor. Before anyone jumps up and says: "Hang on! Only the local electorate can sign the petition!" I'll stop you right there, because you see, there are two versions of the petition, there's an online version which is open to anyone to sign (please do so) and then there's the "hard copy" edition which is available only to local residents, in effect two different petitions doing similar things. The online edition to get as many people as possible to sign so as to increase the pressure and the hard copy to do the real job.

If you could spread the link to the website far and wide (we welcome signatures from around the world) it would be greatly appreciated. The aim of this petition is to attempt to make Bexley the first local authority in the country to allow their residents to recall their elected representatives.

I'd like to point out that if this petition results in a local referendum then the repercussions could be huge. Think about it. Imagine getting 5% or more of your local community signing a petition asking the local authority to bin all E.U. directives and then forcing a local referendum on the E.U. Wouldn't that be fucking awesome?

Help me to try and help you, signing the petition takes less than a few minutes of your time. Be a thorn in their side.


Transmission Ends....

I know, I know. We've been here before.

I am going off-air.

Although I (deliberately) missed the jubilee celebrations, everywhere I looked I saw/heard/read about fawning Brits (foreigners don't know any better) throwing love, adoration and respect at an 86 year old lady who has neglected to do what fate decreed she must, and that which she swore an oath to do, for several decades now.

It made me realise that people will politely listen to me, nod sagely, then rush out to organise a tea party in Mrs Windsors honour.

I don't care, particularly, how hard she works. How many events she attends. How many badges and medals she pins on people. How much she does, or does not cost us.

I only care that she does the job she was entrusted by the people to do. She let us all down. She dropped the ball, frankly. Her defenders say that it wasn't/isn't her fault. "She was badly advised", they shriek.

Well, I happen to know that Mrs Windsor, 86 or not, has a brain. She also knows right from wrong. She knows lawful from unlawful. She knew what she was getting into. Despite all that, she still signed off on that damned ECA 1972. And later, she signed off on seven treaties that firmly lashed us to a bandwagon destined to go over a cliff. Sooner, rather than later, some of us hope.

She did not act alone, but the buck stops with her. (That does not mean that the others are free from guilt):

Image courtesy of TPUC

And to this list we can now add Duffer Brown, his understudy-in-chief David Cameron, and Team Lickspittle.

You, me, Uncle Tom Cobley and all do not get away with anything either. We are governed by consent, and, make no mistake, we consented to it all.

We consented because we did nothing to stop them. No mass marches. No parades. No riots. Our weapon of choice, (but only when we are uber-miffed), is to write stern letters. Even then, we failed, as a nation, to reach for our pens.

The common excuse is that we were brainwashed. That we had 13 years of Labour (that same party we kept in power for those same 13 years) and that they did all the damage. We conveniently forget (if the right-coloured ties are in office) that the rot started with that bastard Heath. Oh, we moaned. We moaned like Olympians. We moaned in the pubs. We moaned in the working-mens clubs. We moaned down the caff. We moaned in the bingo halls. So to stop us moaning they emptied the pubs with a piece of insane, inane, selfish legislation. What was this master-stroke, you may ask? The smoker ban. It only affected 12-15 million people and we were so well trained, a goodly number of those 12-15 million people simply said, "Thank you". They still do to this day. Thank you for dehumanising me. Thank you for making me a pariah. Thank you for throwing me out in the rain, the sleet and the snow to smoke, while my friends, the good robots, were safe indoors, warm & dry & snug. Thank you for that, oh blessed government, thank you for the smoker ban.

With that legislation enacted, the government (of the day, and all others that followed/will follow) knew that anything was possible. So they kept on doing exactly as they wished. 650 men and women, addicted to power, kept vomiting out legislation. As I keep saying, they had a vomit-fest and spewed 4,116 new rules and regulations out in 2011 alone. As the quality of the MPs drops, the volume of legislation spikes. Only the terminally deranged can possibly imagine that more rules means better government. They, collectively, are devoid of integrity, devoid of pride, and totally devoid of honour.

And yet, we fall for it. We say nothing. We do nothing. We listen to their manifesto promises knowing, absolutely knowing, that they are lying and still we trot down to the booths like good little robots and make our mark for the cleverest robot in town. We then look mystified when the clever robot turns out to be defective after all. Just to prove how stupid we are, we repeat this insanity every five years. They remain in power, and we remain mystified. They remain the robbers, and we remain the robbed. They take our money and they take our freedoms. Still, we do nothing.

Anyhoo, I am rabbiting on. Time to stop.

Time to say thank you.

The figures speak for themselves. No matter how well we have done, and please be assured that this was a team-game, we are now in extra time. We are in the dying seconds. The game is all but lost. As hopeful as I am, as optimistic as I am, it is going to take far too long to get everyone, or at least a majority of Britons, to finally understand how bad things are.

They have enough to worry about, so there is no point adding a new worry to the pile.

The numbers:

May 2008-September 2012

Posts- 1,095

Comments- 16,668

Unique visitors- 554,561 (not counting feeds)

Page-views- 857,890

Some left- and right-wing blogs have more impressive stats for a month. The trick, I think, is to keep on shitting out popular stuff. It doesn't have to mean anything, as long as you don't frighten people too much they will return, lemming-like, to read utter bilge. And so the game is played.

I dared to be a little different. I tried a few amendments to the rules.

In 2008 I declared myself a Freeman. I informed the government, and they ignored me.

In 2009 I declared myself a Lawful Rebel. I informed the monarch, and she ignored me.

In 2010, 2011, and 2012 I picked fights with as many government agencies as I thought manageable. There is still a lot of work to do, but it takes time. Mostly, when trying to rebel peacefully, it is like watching wood warp. Which is to say, it takes a bloody long time. I was naive. I thought that writing clever Notices to various agencies would stir them up. I thought they would react. Mostly, they don't. Mostly, they ignore me. The last time I ignored them, they sent two thugs to my door.

That didn't stop me. And I am not stopping now. I have won more battles than I have lost and this gives me the encouragement I need to continue.

I am done with the cheer-leading. Others do it far better than I. I never set out to be a leader of anything. I merely wanted to chart my course and tell you about it along the way. I just didn't think it would take this long.

Here it is in a nutshell: first they ignore you, then they send the heavies, then they shaft you. Game, set and match. It doesn't matter how right you are. They have force. They took away our guns whilst ensuring they can still use theirs. The dice are loaded. The game is rigged. It doesn't matter how free you think you are, they will beat it out of you.

But before they do that, the great British public will ignore you even more. They have a reality and they don't want that reality being fucked with. The law is fair, the queen is doing her job, the police do treat you with respect, taxes of 30-80% are more than fair, petrol should cost £1.40p a litre, dozens of agencies should have the right to enter your home, or look at your personal data (or lose it on the 8:15 to Dulwich), it is absolutely okay for those same agencies to log every call you make, every text or email you send or every Tweet you write. Those 5 million cameras are There For Our Own Good because they do protect us from the Taliban.

A swift glance at the numbers above should explain this whole post, and the reason I am not writing about it daily, weekly, or monthly anymore. A swift calculation should tell you that if I/we have only managed to reach half a million people in over 4 years, it is going to take around 60 years to reach them all.

I do not have that long to live. I do not have the stamina to repeat the story for another 60 years.

So, just before I start getting ever-more desperate to attract an audience, I am going to say adios amigos, and thanks for all the fish.

It has mostly been a pleasure, and my adventure doesn't stop here. I will keep going, because I cannot unsee what I have seen. I cannot unread what I have read, and I really cannot unknow what I know.

I may swing by from time to time with an update. I like to write. I just get tired of writing the same thing. In the meantime, if you want top quality blogging, visit each and every one of those unsung heroes on the right hand side. Geniuses, all of them. I am proud to list them here. They inspire me. Let them inspire you.

Unlike my previous good-byes, this one was not sponsored by the grain or the grape.

Thanks again for tagging along.

Captain James Xavier Ranty (Ret'd).

Gideon Gets Booed


Ridicule is all they deserve.

Well, and a slack handful of contempt.

Have some piccies as well. We could do with cheering up:

That's one way to eradicate the competition.

 I'm voting for this guy.


September 02, 2012

Not The Time For Apathy

I suppose most of you are tired of me saying this.

No apologies from me.

I will repeat as necessary until you are all willing to do something.

Like him or not, David is right.

You can do the easy thing, which is fuck all.

Or you can do the right thing, which is to ensure those who come after you have some sort of life.

It's time to shit or get off the pot.


The Roman Catholic Church

One of my pet hates is crimes against the young, the vulnerable, and the old.

Most people, with some degree of wits and fitness, should be able to give a good account of themselves if attacked. Generally speaking, I mean. Eye-gouging, kicking and biting are all fair when you are defending yourself.

That said, this post is about priests and child rape. I know, not a cheery subject for a Sunday morning, but, as it involves the Roman Catholic Church, Sunday is exactly the right day to do this.

I want you to meet two men, one dead, and the other close, but not close enough, to death.

First, the dead guy:

Cardinal Maria Martini

The should-be-dead guy:

Rev. Benedict Groeschel

Now, what do these dudes have in common? They both have an opinion about priests molesting choirboys. The Cardinal, who died on Friday, is/was against it, while the weirdy-beardy fella says it is the fault of the abused. His remarkably tiny brain insists that it is the priests who are the victims.

Read his stupid comments here.

Cardinal Martini said, in his last interview, that the RC church is 200 years out of date.

It is very difficult to disagree with him. Dinosaurs like Groeschel should be rounded up and put out to pasture. Preferably a very long way away from the young people they find so tempting.

This abuse isn't new. That church has been protecting its paedophiles for centuries. The current pope is no different to almost all of his predecessors.

But the final insult is the church daring to issue statements on morality. They are in no position to tell any of us what is sinful and what isn't.

Is it any wonder so many churches close down? Is it any wonder so many people stay away from churches? Who wants to be associated with these disgusting people?

So we add priests to that growing list of the previously pure who can no longer be trusted. It's a long, long list, isn't it? MPs, police, judges, lawyers, doctors, scientists, and teachers populate the list and in my youth, all of these people had my unwavering trust and respect.

I now assume these people are corrupted. All of them.

It's a damned sight easier than placing any trust in them only to be disappointed.