New Threats
There can be few more archetypal citizens of nowhere than the secretary general of the United Nations, an organisation whose very name implies some sort of moral equivalence between Britain and the lesser breeds. In recent years the UN has somewhat exceeded its proper function of rubber-stamping Anglo-American wog-bombing adventures, and has dispatched various Rolniks and Manjoos to interfere with the sovereignty of Her Majesty's Government. The present secretary general, being yet another foreigner with a funny name, has continued this regrettable trend with a diatribe on the benefits of migration, apparently in the hope that governments hitherto united in their financial self-interest and racist pandering will change their alarmist and stigmatising ways just because of mere social and economic facts. Certainly neither the late Bullingdon administration nor the present Recrudescent Imperium of Westminster, Gibraltar and the Falkland Islands has given any indication of being swayed by anything so unpatriotic as evidence; and the UN secretary general has patently failed to distinguish between undeserving migrants such as refugees, terrorists, nurses and so forth, and deserving migrants like Rupert Murdoch.
4 Comments:
At 12:26 am , Brian M said...
You deserve more comments and applause. Your writing style is simply...amazing. Especially to an American!
At 5:11 pm , Philip said...
Thanks for the kind words, but I think you sell America a bit short. Where writing style is concerned, the nation that produced Ambrose Bierce, H P Lovecraft, Shirley Jackson and Ray Bradbury need bow to no-one.
At 11:08 pm , Dave. said...
I agree Brian. I read this blog every day and always find it witty, sharp, irreverent, thought-provoking and refreshing (compared to mainstream hacks Philip you are in a league of your own).
Don't take the lack of comment as an indication of a lack of interest; I'm sure there are many more out there who read and enjoy you Philip.
At 2:11 am , Philip said...
Thanks, Dave. That's what I say to myself as I coughingly pace my garret: "I may not get the plaudits of Shakespeare," I say, "but did Shakespeare have the lurkers and bots that I have? I rather think not."
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