Olde Albion’s Anguish (Or for whom the bell tolls)

Olde Albion’s Anguish
(Or for whom the bell tolls)
As a child lying on a stony beach staring up at the sky on a warm summer’s day prior to WW2 I am sure I would have daydreamed this is how England always was, how it always had been, and how it always will be. I read of the past, I was living the present and as a child I assumed my future would alter little…. or so I thought. I could not have imagined for a fleeting moment the horrendous changes that in my lifetime would beset my country and my tribe

The very thought of the words displacement and discrimination, references to my race being in a minority in my own country by the year 2035, the disappearance of the legendary friendliness of the English Bobby on his beat, of threats and intimidation to my people because of their ethnic grouping by my own leaders who are hell bent on offering my country up as a homeland to the rest of the world to thousands of economic tourists from primitive and violent cultures were unthinkable, but it happened.

The unwelcome visitors were invited to set up their foreign enclaves that they administer, in our cities and towns some areas or NO GO Zones which we dare not enter and woe betide anyone who protests. As one town, one city at a time is ghettoised as sure as night follows day we will be in the minority.

A final insult was to be told by one of our Parliamentary leaders, an aging man originating from the Land of Zion, a man from an immigrant family who fled persecution to find sanctuary in my country to one day tell me that my race does not exist and there is no response forthcoming from my people.

A country that had produced some of the worlds’ greatest Writers, Painters, Builders, Playwrights, Scientists and Composers, Loyalty and patriotism is now made to appear as a sure sign of racism, its purpose is to destroy our people’s freedom of speech to make it a smooth transition throughout a social experiment that has never been tried before. This great country has been defiled, corrupted and destroyed from within. It is the stuff nightmares are made of.

At the time I was too young to understand that most people were poor; in truth the gulf between the rich and poor was insurmountable. Many struggled to subsist but to survive the large families sent their sons to continually supply the cannon fodder to fight the wars of the Zionist Bankers, Marxist theorists and our Elite to police the Empire and to keep the trade routes open. Those poor who enlisted to fight in the Kings Armies and Navies just wanted to feed and clothe their families. To some that died on foreign battlefields no doubt regarded fighting for king and country as loyalty to one’s country. Is the loyalty of my uncle who died in WW2 over the skies of a place called Basra now being repaid?

As I stood in a city centre recently it was bustling to overflowing. I rarely if ever go into this city even though I only live a half hour bus ride away. I found the experience quite intimidating. Looking around me I say without exaggeration the number of MY people did not outnumber the people in the milling crowds. I could have been put through a blender.

Decades on from the holiday at the seaside I saw a different future; I was no-one special. We were once told we had won the lottery of life. I could have been a traveller or a stateless person without a country I could call home. I am fast losing empathy with the English people around me; many of them are antagonistic to those who object to this colonisation, sleepwalking into oblivion or have welcomed the invaders. I am even afraid to voice an opinion in case I am overheard and arrested by the British Ideological Police force and charged with a hate crime or one of a variety of other crimes specifically designed and put in place to stifle freedom of speech and to hasten the demise of my people. It only took a brief 60 odd years for the symptom of this terrifying social experiment to be blindly apparent.

The big question is why has my country been selected for dismemberment along with my European and Scandinavian cousins? Have their histories, traditional fairy stories and nursery rhymes also been rewritten to placate the invader? Why have the African, Middle Eastern and Caribbean people been denied a share in this wonderful social and uplifting diverse human experience along with the people from the Indian subcontinent, the Middle East and the Orient?

They exchanged my passport; they exchanged my driving licence to standardize with the Marxist Bloc and finessed the currencies of the European people then denied and disparaged my ethnic grouping. So what was the point of the sacrifices of our people? Is this pay-off for those hundreds and thousands of Britons who gave their lives to make this a land fit for heroes? No, it is a cruel joke, a cruel joke played on MY people.

There are some brave souls who have been jailed who have objected to the treacherous behaviour of our politicians and others who only voice their concerns in the company of close or trusted friends and family and who fully realise the consequences of airing their grievances in public.

If a number of our towns and cities now have a minority ethnic population then what we are experiencing IS Colonisation, some might say we are being ‘’Conquested nicely’’. Our leaders see us as one people like cattle bred to consume, we have lost our country. I sympathise with the young Swedish and Norwegian women that have been sexually violated by the Colonists.

I sympathise with the families that have been displaced. I sympathise with the families of the underage English girls who have been sexually violated. My sympathies also go out to the families that have lost loved ones who have paid with their lives as victims of this hideous experiment of forced Diversity. To the Patriots I ask is it too late? Frankly I do not know.

The question is simple do you want a homeland reserved just for your people as many other races enjoy or not, if the answer is yes then you must look at ALL options because in 25 years’ time you might not have an option.