Shitting on the Shoulders of Giants…

The yoot have a point with their ‘OK Boomer’ meme.

The post war generation were the first and biggest beneficiaries of the magic money tree. In on the ground floor of the welfare ponzi scheme, powered by print-on-demand fiat money. In the face of privation by post-war malaises from rationing to fallen fathers, they welcomed the largesse of Clement Attlee’s Labour government with open arms.

Ever since then the welfare state has grown and grown, by turns squeezed and released, the toothpaste never quite going back in the tube no matter now much the Tories tried. What passed for austerity in the 2010s  was simply a slowing of the rate at which national debt increased, and to call it austerity makes a mockery of the universal deprivation that coined the term in the 50s.

Unfortunately for the kids so keen to blame the boomers for everything and angrily express their feelings of betrayal, they don’t have any answers. and they’re actually part of the problem.

For as long as I can remember now, Gen-X right-wingers of a libertarian, Misesian persuasion like me have pointed out that debt-fuelled public spending today is borrowing from the future generations who would have to pay it back. And that’s all very fine in theory. But people – including Millenials and Gen-Z – want free stuff today, and politicians want the votes of people – including Millenials and Gen-Z – who want free stuff. They want the government – repeatedly proven to be inefficient, callous and incompetent – to do more and more things for more and more groups of people.

They deride their elders as resistant to change (in spite of their elders boldly voting for Brexit and them opting for the status quo), as overwhelmed technophobes while overlooking that every gadget they now cherish was designed by Gen-X’ers and built with boomer money, exploiting a mastery of quantum physics and applied mathematics that was earned in the first half of the 20th century.

They fret about the ‘climate emergency’, which amounts to a nagging feeling that we’re using up natural resources with gay abandon for frivolous purposes. But they’re blaming people who never flew abroad on holiday for the first halves of their lives, had one car per family if they were lucky, whose phones were wired to a table by the front door, and for whom recycling meant wearing your older siblings clothes once they had outgrown them, darning your socks, and eating soup on Monday made from Sunday’s leftovers.

In fact the whole damned ‘climate emergency’ was a spurious Boomer invention that took on a life of its own under power of lobbying, state subsidies, advocacy science and residual post-Christian guilt. A lot of slightly older people who have seen the evolution of this climate religion over the last 20-30 years are sceptical, having seen lots of evidence of corruption, cynical manipulation, and outright scientific fraud. But the ‘woke’ Gen-Z noobs have embraced climate change utterly uncritically and are shouting at us for lacking zeal.

It’s true that you could go to university in the 1980s basically for free. Your tuition would be paid and you’d get a grant to live on. But only 1 in 20 kids went to university in the 1980s UK. If we look at degrees that actually make you any money and do anything to empirically advance humanity, I suspect we’d still come out at around 1 in 20 today. But it’s actually 1 in 2 school leavers that attend university now – most of them learning something that will add nothing to mankind’s sum of knowledge or mastery fo our environment, fuelling a burgeoning class of aimless mediocrities, middle managers, charity workers, and lobbyists. We could not possibly afford to fund that publicly without piling on that national debt which we’ve already covered.

It’s true that it’s far harder now to get on the property ladder than it was 20 years ago. And it’s true that politicians and bankers deserve to be coruscated for this. But what’s the answer? It’s not one that Gen-Z will want to hear. Stop and reverse immigration, deregulate property development by alleviating environmental constraints on planning permission, build more roads and more railways, place a social expectation on families that that parents should stay together, rather than spreading their fractured modern families across multiple households, that siblings should share bedrooms and live cheek-by-jowl in less than salubrious housing.

Gen-Z are basically blaming older generations for – against all the odds – making progress and giving them everything that makes their lives different from those that went before. They’re tacitly or explicitly rejecting all that. They may think they want what we had in the 1970s. I say let them have it. Let them vote Corbyn into power, and have the lot. The oil crisis, the strikes, the 3-day weeks, the power cuts, the piled up garbage and the unburied dead, the brutal paleolithic dentistry.

Enjoy, bitches.


Please let it be true

Via Vox Day, I consider this unconfirmed at the moment, but if it’s true I’ll be raising a glass of finest claret to the Queen.

Prince Harry and his renegade wife, Meghan, threw a tantrum and reportedly threatened to quit the Royal Family during a bitter confrontation with the Queen, insiders said. But if the pair were hoping the 93-year-old monarch would beg them to stay, they were flat-out wrong, has learned.

“Her Majesty called their bluff. She told them that she was delighted with their decision and couldn’t wait for them to leave,” a high-level palace courtier told Radar.

But that wasn’t the Queen’s only payback for the “divisive” couple, who committed the cardinal sin of dissing royal life in public.

The source claims she “stripped them of their royal titles, their newly renovated home, Frogmore Cottage — and about $15 million in financial support.

I admit that it just seems too good to be true. It’s a very pleasant dream though.


In case you forget whose side they’re on

Two items of interest.

The first is the Spectator, which has predictably cucked in the face of an SJW onslaught over Rod Liddle’s column this week.

The Spectator seem to have allowed Liddle’s column to leak across their paywall, here, presumably so everyone can see what all the fuss was about, presumably edited from its original form, based on Fraser Nelson’s comments.

With characteristic spinal flexibility, Nelson allows Liddle to give a full throated defence of himself, then adds his own comments, which start with ‘it was a joke’, but conclude, ‘this one was too easily misrepresented and should not have been published in the form that it was.’

I suppose we should be grateful that Liddle’s column was left up at all.

The second is from the Telegraph, where their defence and security corrrespondant is running a series of articles, as well as a drinks reception, to celebrate 100 years of GCHQ.

Somehow I doubt that this will involve reminding anyone of the Snowden revelations, which show that GCHQ – once responsible for winning the second World War – is now more usually emplyed to continuously spy on us all in partnership with the USA’s NSA. But it should.


Right, you can fuck off now, Harry…

In the spirit of not interrupting the enemy when they’re making a mistake, I kept quiet while Harry and the Halfblood wife flew to Africa to lecture the people who’d stayed at home about the badness of tourism.

I kept my inquiries to myself, as to whether private-jet-owner Elton John had fluffed Halfblood in the same way he had done her dead mother-law, with the same obsequious degeneracy.

I emitted a shameful personal chuckle when they sued the newspapers. It was perfect. The woe about the clicking of cameras. The prospect of how much woe there’ll be if the cameras fall silent.

So I’m now delighted that Buckingham Palace has announced that Prince Harry is flying to Japan to support England at the world cup finals of egg-chasing.

I’m sure the countless thousands of fans who can only dream of dropping more than £10,000 on a whimsical weekend trip to Japan will be delighted to hear that our ginger lord and saviour is able to attend on all our behalf.

I did wonder what became of Gerald Ratner, but now I know. He’s Harry’s PR.

Crack on, Gerry, son. Crack on.


Plenty more where they came from…

As thoroughly sick as I am about the whole appalling business of Brexit, such is the state of brinksmanship that it’s totally engrossing.

So I was irritated and suspicious when, in a change from scheduled programming, this started to dominate the news:


So what’s the Brexit angle going to be from each side?

That these people are the victims of exploitation of the EU’s open borders?

That without the cruelty and inhumanity of the UK’s closed border, such deadly efforts would be unnecessary, and will only increase after Brexit further limits cross-border movement?

That since this seems to be an operation relating to Irish Republicanism, we shouldn’t be too bothered about losing Northern Ireland on the back of our Brexit deal?

That we’ll be powerless to play our part in stopping this trade when we’re outside the EU?

That once we’re outside of the EU, we’ll no longer be an attractive destination for this trade?

I expect all these positions to be tried on for size by the usual media suspects, but my question is this:

What else are they hiding by the entire media going large on this story?

I expect we’ll find out sooner rather than later, but it was a heroic effort by the entire media establishment to change the conversation by shouting “SQUIRREL!” in unison.


Optimism is a bad solution

How I wish I had these levels of blind stupid optimism in my heart:

We’re winning: the good, decent, sensible, value-creating, hard-working, straight-talking, pub-bantering, piss-taking real people are on the verge of trouncing the politically correct, social-justice-worshipping, humourless, economy-draining, finger-wagging, parasitical nonentities who’ve been ruling the roost these last few years.

We’ve had enough of the Jolyon Maughams and the Gary Linekers and the John Bercows and the Mark Ovlands pratting around on top of our train carriages and preventing us from going where we want to go.

The Brexit train is about to leave the station. And it’ll take more than a bunch of posturing, prancing gimps to stop us.

These are the words of the man who brought us the “dogshit yoghurt fallacy“, now asking us to believe that cultural entropy can be reversed. That degeneration can be magically turned into renaissance in a way that has only ever been achieved before by bloody revolution or total war. That getting Brexit – actually or in name only – will unmix the dogshit from the yoghurt and, somehow, put all these people and their pet projects back in their box.

Perhaps he also imagines that by manhandling a couple of crusty dickheads at Canning Town we have somehow started to reduce the flow of money from our pockets to the green blob, the micromanagement of our daily lives will somehow be upended, all the slebs will suddenly stop lecturing us like a bunch of coked-up primary school ma’ams and Greta Thunberg will step on a landmine, with hilarious consequences.

At least Tim Newman is a bit more measured in his instinct that things are on the up:

Today’s incident [The Extinction Rebellion tube train kicking], coming off the back of the authorities’ decision to ban any more unauthorised Extinction Rebellion protests in London, might be a sign things are starting to turn. On top of that, it looks as though Boris might have reached a deal with the EU which can pass a parliamentary vote and see Britain leaving the EU at the end of the month as planned. While probably not perfect, it is better than May’s appalling Withdrawal Agreement and does actually represent Brexit in more than name only. That will leave an awful lot of Remain activists unemployed, and a fair few MPs staring down the barrel of a P45 cannon at the next election.

All in all, things are looking a little brighter after today, aren’t they?

It’s admirable and typically English to seek out the chink of light through the clouds. The Canning Town Twat-Kicking made me smile. But one swallow does not make a spring.

It might be a good way to have a happy Sunday but, in the long term, we don’t profit from kidding ourselves that it’ll all be okay, when an unemotional look at the situation would make it clear that we are now more than 50 years into the progressive project and its deeply entrenched beneficiaries are not about to change their tune on the back of a couple of isolated defeats.

The idea that if the global warming gravytrain is cancelled, its travellers will turn to productive activities that truly enrich humanity is absurd. Or that when Brexit is done, the defeated remainers will turn to upholding popular will and the greatest economic and societal good, reducing violent crime and social fragmentation by acting upon empirical evidence as it relates to uncomfortable questions of ethnicity, culture and religion, improving opportunities for all to live a fulfilling, rewarding and uncoerced life.

The Devil makes work for idle hands. Take away climate change and Brexit and it’ll be some other sort of futile ‘conservation’ or ‘improvement’ that they dedicate themselves to… whatever they choose, it’ll just be another pretext on which to demand we all ‘think of the children’, a different stick to beat us with and another lucrative bandwagon to board.

We can and do fight for ground inch by inch and yard by yard, and while we may have gained an inch at Canning Town, and a foot-pound of momentum from whatever Brexit turns out to be, it’s just the beginning of a long and gruelling fight-back.  One that most people don’t have the time, resources or tenacity for. Hell, most of the people who are old and wise enough to see it all for what it is will be dead before there’s the faintest hope of consigning the current hegemony to the landfill of stupid ideas and ruinous mass delusions.

And, as far as most people are concerned, there is still everything to gain from at least appearing to be onboard with the progressive theocracy, and everything to lose by disembarking. As long as there’s football/the royal family/X-Factor/Punch & Judy politics to confect a drama out of, most people won’t keep on making too much of a fuss.

I hestitate to draw parallels with Classical legends or Biblical struggles or the decline and fall of the Roman Empire and the onset of the Dark Ages, but you can if you like and I wouldn’t object. Each would illustrate some useful lessons that we should all pay heed to.

Those of us with the will and means to fight must not let fatigue lead us to complacency, even for a lazy Sunday.

Now, fingers crossed for ManU to trounce Liverpool, eh?


A compromise is a defeat you’re forced to smile about

This Brexit deal. It’s as good as done isn’t it? And done we have been.

MPs have their careers to think about, after all. Tories who don’t want to go into an election as ‘Brexit blockers’ will back it. Labour MPs who are in Brexit constituencies will seize the opportunity, whatever their ‘leader’ says. They’ll sell it to Brexiters as a good deal for leavers, and to Remainers as a good deal for them. It’ll be neither.

The public have reached a point of such fatigue with the whole merry dance that, punch drunk, enough of them will sign up to just about anything that ends all this turmoil.

I have to admit that Boris’s team have wrung more in the way of concessions out of the EU than I expected. But it’s not enough.

They have been rowing back from such a compromised starting position – courtesy of May’s ‘deal’ – that it would be almost impossible to get from there to anything I might consider a satisfactory conclusion.

Some people of my acquantance are very much minded to accept that this deal is as good as it’s going to get, and that there is no chance we will be exiting on a WTO basis, so it’s this or it’s remain in the EU.

Well, I think I’d prefer to remain than accept this deal that inevitably means the EU will have us by the goolies in ways that are doubtless yet to be uncovered, and will lead either to our ultimate acquiescence, or to years of arguing in the ECJ under rules made up by our opponent while we’re locked out of the room.

To me, nothing fundamental has changed. The UK would still be left in a position where it has no influence over EU policy, but would be bound to give them powers and jurisdiction whereby they will prevent the UK becoming a meaningful export competitor to EU countries and, by the way, the EU would still own the fish stocks in UK territorial waters, which I suspect is just the tip of the iceberg in terms of what we’ll be giving up.

Something that every outlet has been notably silent on so-far is the question of free movement. Is it in or out? the only media noise about the ending of free movement relates to the no-deal scenario, which we ain’t going to get.

Fast forward 6 months: the deal will be done, we’ll be into a transition period, and slowly the gremlins will begin to emerge from the nuance and interpretations of the text of the agreement. As negotiations move forward with the EU on trade, it will become increasingly clear that the UK and the EU are reading each and every paragraph in very different ways from one another and in all likelihood, the UK will get nary a timely hearing from the adjudicating courts. The remainers’ next phase of action will be well underway, and their practice at binding the hands of the PM will be put to good use making sure the free trade agreement carries all sorts of remainer baggage

Meanwhile, Boris will have gotten his election and will sweep to victory – of sorts – restoring the slender but workable majority that Cameron won in 2015. The Brexit party will, mostly by accident, end up with maybe 2 MPs, who will turn out to be patently unsuited to the task. The UK having been ejected from the EU parliament, the Brexit party’s powerbase (and income) will disintegrate. The incipient disagreement we see today about whether to support Boris’s deal will have degenerated into civil war on several fronts. The election will have caused pretty much everyone in the party to disagree with everyone else in the party about matters of economics, welfare, the NHS, defence, the environment, education, aid, foreign policy etc.

People complaining about the terms we’re under with the EU will be reduced to a rump, portrayed by media as Meldrewish malcontents who haven’t moved on from the eurosceptic days of the nineties, and the establishment will be at liberty to get back their traditional all-party fart-sniffing competition, during which time they can workshop ideas about how next to screw with the lives of us plebs, a good many of whom will again have no meaningful representation in parliament or public life.

Notice, by the way, that Delingpole is telling us not to blame his chum Boris for this being a dog’s breakfast, and that his chum Jacob Rees Mogg is selling this deal hard. Which very much aligns with what I’ve said previously about this pair.

The Spectator – which has been softening and moving to the woke left for a while now – has gone all in on Boris’s deal, as has the Telegraph. These being the only ever serious pro-Brexit organs, and both being former stomping grounds for Boris, wherein he no-doubt retains chummy connections, leaves those of us who still want what we voted for without any medium of support at all.

So I reject Boris’s deal, and all that flows from it, because it’s just a differently-dressed dogshit sandwich.

Death or glory!


P.S. All that said, if the long-term outcome of this is that the UK breaks up, shedding Northern Ireland and Scotland, then I’ll consider that a decent enough consolation prize.