they are coming
"James what do you think of Donald Trump?"
The words were those of the formidable Phoenicia Lincolnshire a legendary matriarchal regional backroom boss for Ireland's Fine Gael political party.
She was serving me tea in her home in front of a roaring fire.
I began to talk around the Trump issue.
I don't like to hedge but I don't like to be misinterpreted either.
Such considerations are part of the burden of being a show biz personality.
I started to say that I agreed with Trump's stated positions on certain issues and that my own views were probably more direct than his in that while I believed we needed to decisively reestablish our borders simply in order to promote the rule of law, I also believed that we needed to make it clear to the populations of Africa and Asia and Arabia that there is no inherent right for any of them to move to our countries. and that in addition and most importantly we need to repudiate and end the influx of Muslims into Europe, Australia and America until such time as Muslims reform their culture and behaviour at a broad societal level and abandon their all out war with humanity.
I was about to elaborate by advocating that to do any of this will necessitate all out war with the IRA and associated drug dealing and people trafficking mafias who have drawn these Jihadis to our shores in the first place, and the removal from office of a subverted generation of Judges and Civil Servants who on behalf of the aforementioned mafias, are deliberately facilitating the systematic collapse of immigration law.
I was going to conclude with my classic one liner:
The wars of the future will be mafia.
I didn't get to say it.
Because she threw me out of her house.
Ah yes.
A woman who cannot bear the thought of expelling Jihadis from Ireland had no problem expelling me from her house.
Sobering what.
I suppose we all have our demons.
A few hours ago this evening Al Qaeda's Isis franchise began detonating bombs at the airport and on a metro train in the Belgian capital Brussels.
My first response was to think of Phoenicia and our conversation last December.
Her daughter works in Brussels.
I wonder what she's thinking now.
The words were those of the formidable Phoenicia Lincolnshire a legendary matriarchal regional backroom boss for Ireland's Fine Gael political party.
She was serving me tea in her home in front of a roaring fire.
I began to talk around the Trump issue.
I don't like to hedge but I don't like to be misinterpreted either.
Such considerations are part of the burden of being a show biz personality.
I started to say that I agreed with Trump's stated positions on certain issues and that my own views were probably more direct than his in that while I believed we needed to decisively reestablish our borders simply in order to promote the rule of law, I also believed that we needed to make it clear to the populations of Africa and Asia and Arabia that there is no inherent right for any of them to move to our countries. and that in addition and most importantly we need to repudiate and end the influx of Muslims into Europe, Australia and America until such time as Muslims reform their culture and behaviour at a broad societal level and abandon their all out war with humanity.
I was about to elaborate by advocating that to do any of this will necessitate all out war with the IRA and associated drug dealing and people trafficking mafias who have drawn these Jihadis to our shores in the first place, and the removal from office of a subverted generation of Judges and Civil Servants who on behalf of the aforementioned mafias, are deliberately facilitating the systematic collapse of immigration law.
I was going to conclude with my classic one liner:
The wars of the future will be mafia.
I didn't get to say it.
Because she threw me out of her house.
Ah yes.
A woman who cannot bear the thought of expelling Jihadis from Ireland had no problem expelling me from her house.
Sobering what.
I suppose we all have our demons.
A few hours ago this evening Al Qaeda's Isis franchise began detonating bombs at the airport and on a metro train in the Belgian capital Brussels.
My first response was to think of Phoenicia and our conversation last December.
Her daughter works in Brussels.
I wonder what she's thinking now.
posted by heelers | 6:55 AM
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