considerations regarding mass immigration into europe following the latest muslim atrocities in paris

1. There has never been an inherent right to in-migrate into our countries.

2. The right to in-migrate to our countries was accorded the status of an unquestionable secular piety only in the past twenty years. This piety has been foisted on Europe by an unprincipled, and essentially unaccountable, political, judicial and media pseudo establishment. Earlier waves of immigration were sometimes similarly opportunistic and without public consent, but at least in those periods, there was some public discourse on the matter and immigration law was not permitted to collapse.

3. Immigration law in Europe began a rapid collapse only after 1991 when ironically enough the Russians were attempting to democratise their seventy year old communist dictatorship. Amid the positive thaw in international relations, our countries were targetted by mafias for mass immigration and our governments failed to put a stop to it.

4. Public concerns about mass immigration were and are silenced by labelling such concerns racist.

5. The mafias buy our politicians and they buy up public advocacy groups. European mafias, Nigerian devil worship gangs, along with the IRA, Triads and Muslim gangs, have established a billion dollar trade drug trafficking and people trafficking Muslims from the Third World into Europe.

6. My analysis is that any country that allows mass Muslim immigration becomes a victim of Muslim Jihad terror. There are no exceptions. I would refer you to the commentator Mark Steyn (no friend of mine)'s assessment of this matter as instanced in his book America Alone, a salient quote from which is reproduced here with my punctuation and without his permission. The money quote reads: "Islam is a classic armed doctrine. It exists to destroy. Someday it will. On an epic scale."

7. The broad mass of Europeans have not consented to the collapse of immigration law nor to the presence of millions of Muslim Jihadis in our countries,  nor to the definition of immigration law by mafiosi and left wing pseudo elites We simply weren't asked.

8. The political pseudo elites of Europe and organisations such as Amnesty International continue to silence most expressions of public concern regarding immigration by labelling them racist.

9. Immigration law in southern Europe has been further collapsed, indeed destroyed, by Pope Francis' highly publicised remarks on the issue last year. Pope Francis advocacy regarding refugees led to a policy of welcoming ashore mafia run boatloads of would be immigrants in direct contravention of the proper policy of turning such boatloads back to Africa. Having done more than any other single person to collapse immigration law, Pope Francis has attempted to cover his tracks on this issue by simultaneously calling for an end to people trafficking. I do not consider him a genuine Pope. His election to the Papacy after the sudden resignation of his precessor looked to me like a coup d'etat.

9.Pope Francis disruptive influence on the immigration situation has been superceded this year by Germany's Chancellor Angela Merkel who has thrown open the doors of Europe to Muslim immigrants without the consent of the people of Germany or of any other European people. In her self righteous arrogance Chancellor Merkel may just have ended Europe.

10. It is time to put a stop to this by re-establishing our borders, by ending immigration, and by creating accountability among the political and institutional pseudo elites who are at present working for the mafias. We must end the hijacking of discourse in our countries by generic unaccountable liberal left wing politicians and their puppet master mafiosi, all of whom profit exponentially from their destruction of immigration law while our countries, our cultures, our freedoms, and our lives drown in a sea of Islam.

the sanchez family vote socialist

It was the year 2004.
I was in Spain.
The dust had barely settled on the streets from a few days earlier when Muslims had turned Madrid into a slaughterhouse, killing 200 people with explosive devices on trains.
The country was getting ready for an election.
I dined with the Sanchez family.
"How are you going to vote?" I asked.
"We will vote socialist," said Jacinta.
I choked on my acelgas.
"Al Qaeda just bombed your country in order to make you vote socialist," I spluttered. "How could you vote for the party Al Qaeda wants you to vote for? How could you hand them that victory?"
Ramon eyed me keenly and stayed silent.
His wife answered.
"The conservatives pretended they thought the Basques did the bombing," she told me. "We have to punish them for that."
There was an awkward silence.
A far away look had come into my eyes.
It's the look I get when I'm about to lose friends.
"If you vote socialist after what the Muslims just did," I said, "you are surrendering to Al Qaeda and you are voting to end Spain."

afterwards

The subject of near death experiences occasionally throws up some interesting testimonies.
By near death experience I mean the direct experience of heaven or God or angels or departed relatives which is often described by someone who has supposedly clinically died or come close to death, and then been revived.
From the investigator's viewpoint I would recognise that some of the claims are genuine, in the sense that the people genuinely believe they experienced what they are describing.
My opinion is that there are motives to lie, a book deal, sensationalism, mischief, etc.
But they are not all lying.
My Aunty Pat had a near death experience fifty years ago and kept it secret.
She told me years later that during a difficult birthing in hospital she had felt the presence of her own dead mother standing at her shoulder, that she could see endless stretches of flowers, and that she could hear music which was of an indescribable beauty.
She had asked the doctor the following day: "Doctor did I die in the operating room?"
He had replied: "It is better to put these things behind us."
She only spoke about the matter decades later when other people at a prayer group with her, recounted similar experiences.
She has become my benchmark for the analysis that they're not all lying.
But how many of them are telling the truth?
And have any of them, my aunt included, experienced what they think they experienced?
There seems to be no way as yet to prove that the experiences are more than a dream or a medication induced fantasy.
I'm keeping my heart open. There are five immediate testimonies which I would commend to your attention amid the hokum and the business ventures and the less than credible new agey stuff. These are to be found on Mr Youtube's sometimes useful sometimes opprobrious website. Do a search with the key names and you'll find what I'm asking you to look at.

1. Don Piper's experience. He was injured in a well verified car crash. (A truck drove into his car.) He claims that his death was established four times by responders at the scene. We might wonder were they really sure. It's a legitimate question. But hear his account and see what you think. A film has just been released about his case.

2. Mickey Robinson. Again the accident he was in is well attested. An adventure sport lover, he had his claimed direct experience of the immortal truth in the crash of a light aircraft he was due to parachute from. He claims to have seen hell and to have encountered God. The accident occurred forty five years ago. Mr Robinson is still around and sharing his testimony, and there is plenty of current footage of him. I find him credible for two particular reasons. Firstly he still carries some of the visible marks of his injuries and these are injuries that might inhibit the confidence of some people who had experienced them, and might lead some of us who have not experienced them to look on him as a victim. Yet he doesn't exude victimhood. When you look at him you feel you are looking at a good looking, fortunate, much blessed, and fulfulled human being, the sort of man many of us would like to be be. The injuries are just there but in no way seem to diminish his personhood. In the light of God they have become part of who he is but not a limiting part. I am reminded of the teaching: The Lord turns to the good all things for those who love him. The second reason he seems credible to me is a throwaway remark he made after describing his supposed supernatural experience. He said: "After I saw hell I couldn't even bear to hear people say to one another: Go to hell. If you saw it, you wouldn't wish your worst enemy to go there. I don't care who it is. Hitler, Osama, Saddam, whoever. If you saw hell you wouldn't want them there."

3. Ian McCormack. He was stung repeatedly by jellyfish while surfing off a tropical island. The testimony about the afterlife from this man did not at first engage me. Again it was one of the throw away remarks he made when his main testimony was over, that made me sit up and take notice.

4. Doctor Mary Neal. She's got a pragmatic almost clinical manner as she makes her statement. Can she be believed? According to her testimony, she was drowning in her kayak during a downriver trip in Chile when she had an encounter with eternal life. She's quite blunt about the experiential truth of it and insists she knows it was no dream.

5. Ali Perez. A hard bitten enough police officer from the USA. There's short five minute footage of him available from his appearance on Pat Robertson's CNN network which includes a dramatisation of his claimed experiences. It's good footage but I recommend you access a longer talk he gave to fellow police officers recently. In a shoot out he was hit several times and claims certain incredible events unfolded while the shoot out was going on. His injuries and the reality of the shoot out cannot be questioned. Nor can it be doubted that in court he blessed the man who had shot him. But can anyone believe the rest of what he says? Can such things be?

the lake isle of inish freebie

i will arise and go now
and go to to inish freebie
and a small drugs gang build there
of skunks and skangers made
nine audi a4's will i have there
a safe house for growing hash
and live alone in the murder loud glade
and i will have some Triads there
and the IRA and Al Qaeda and the Russian Mafia too
for mobsters come dropping low
dropping from the veils of the morning
to where judge liberal gives them all irish passports and Get Out Of Jail Free cards
there midnight's all a glimmer
and noon a purple glow
and evening full of the audi a4 gang revving up their engines
i will arise and go now
for always night and day
i see IRA mentored drug gangs dealing poison to children in our schools
whether standing on the roadway
or on the pavement grey
they really have taken us for complete and utter fools

sense and sensibility

The Tearman cafe on a winterishly sunny Saturday morning.
A lilting tenor voice soothes souls in the stillness of the traditional wood panelled eatery.
It is a young old voice singing with all the sorrow and joy of ancient Ireland,
Me of course.
I am singing a new version of the Whistling Gypsy.
"The whistling gypsy came over the hill
He was wearing barely a stitch
He whistled and he sang
Till the green woods rang
And he briefly won the heart of a..."
Before I can make the money shot I am interrupted by an exclamation of my name.
"James! If you're about to say bitch, you'd better not."
Araminta Baines my dining companion has emerged from the lethargy that normally accompanies my singing to assume the mantle of censor deptutatis.
"What's wrong with bitch?"
"It's a very wrong word. It has all sorts of connotations."
"Really?"
"Yes really."
"I can't say bitch?"
"No you can't."
"I can't even sing it."
"James you can't even sing anything. But that's beside the point. You can't use that word. The word is a hate word. A hateful word."
"I like it."
"I know you do."
"You're joking about not using it right?"
"I'm serious."
The noble Heelers goggles his handsome head.
"I was going to sing it at the charity fundraiser."
"Don't."
I goggle again.
Could I be wrong?
Or is this a case of the grand fembo pandjandrums of the Republic of Ireland ruining another perfectly good word by making it unsayable just like they did with fanny? Yes bold readers, Ireland is the only country in the Free World where a cute dialect word for bum has been deliberately misinterpreted as a synonym for the female genitalia. I kid you not.
Time to try a little rational empiricism with Araminta.
"But, but, but..."
"No but's."
"Look for crying out loud. Bitch is a rich and colourful, nay historic word, that cannot and must not be eschewed from the language."
"It's already gone. You're too late to save it."
"Noooooooooo."
My no was a bit like the aiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeaaaiiiiiiiiaaaah in the music to The Good The Bad And The Ugly.
When the dust settled I resumed in more debaterish vein, listing off the irresistable bullet points on my fingers, and also singing a bit more when the mood took me.
"Joan Collins had a film in the 1970's called The Bitch. She's a feminist like you. And the theme tune to The Bitch by the Olympic Runners is a classic. You can't ban a classic. Let me demonstrate:
There are good girls, and there's bad.
The bad are all I've ever had.
I can't tell you which is which.
but trust me to choose the bitch,
Ah ha,
God help me I got the bitch.
She will ruin me I know.
But I love her and I can't let her go.
She's like a wicked wicked witch.
And God help me I chose the bitch.
Aha
God help me I chose the bitch.
They sang it at my brother's wedding. Araminta you can't just arbitrarily ban a part of our heritage like that."
My friend stared at me with something beyond disapproval.
I essayed boyish innocence on my handsome preraphaelite forty nine years old and eleven months features.
"Thumbs down to the Joan Collins song?"
"Yes."
"Joan Collins is more of a feminst than you are."
"Not the point."
"What about Sigourney Weaver? In that opprobriously violent James Cameron film Aliens. She goes after the boss alien and at the end she snarls: You bitch. You going to ban James Cameron's Aliens too? Well I wouldn't mind if you did because it's dysfunctionally violent but I mean, you know, where are you going to draw the line? And Sigourney Weaver is more of a feminist than you or Joan Collins. She got into films by marrying the head of a Hollywood studio. You don't get more feminist than that. Then there's Grandad."
"Grandad never said bitch."
"He did yeah. When I was a teenager I stuck a pitch fork in his face and he looked at me with quiet dignity and said 'Ye bitch.' That was Grandad to a tee. He might be angry for a moment but once he'd said what he had to say it was all over. There was no more about it after that. Anyway I didn't mind a bit. I thought he showed a lot of restraint actually."
"James how did you do that?"
"We'd been stuffing bushes into gaps in the fence on his farm and I'd picked up a bush on the fork, turned around without thinking, and shoved before I aimed and got him right in the face."
 Araminta was looking distant.
"Don't sing it James."
"You know I once wrote a play called Lady Windermere's Fanny. Think what the world would be like if I'd listened to the Paddy Whacks who cried foul. Remember John Coleman in the chemist shop and his: Don't perform it James, It's the last taboo James. And the postman was looking at me as if I'd two heads for years afterwards. But the censorious pharmaceutical and postal service nay sayers did not prevail. If they had Lady Windermere's Fanny would never have happened."
Araminta tried a different tack,
"Okay sing the song but put in a different word."
"Such as?"
"Well how about wench. Or wagon."
I weighed her words and warbled experimentally:
"The whistling gypsy came over the hill
He was drinking out of a flagon
He whistled and he sang till the green woods ran
And he briefly won the heart of a wagon.
No. It's awful. The bitch stays in the show."
"James you're not really going to do it are you?"
"Araminta old pal, I have a strong yearning to break another taboo. It's been years since the last last one. And hey. It's for charity."

heelers goes churchilly

And as the tidal wave of blood subsides from the latest Muslim massacres of innocent people in the streets, once again the dreary steeples of climate change and gender politics loom out of the mist over Europe to stifle any decisive response to our enemies.