A Removal Of The Human Right To Be Angry

That’s what’s happened. And I’m sitting here, typing, and reading, digesting what has happened and what has been happening for years, and I’m getting absolutely fucking incandescent with rage at the sheer bastard audacity of our self-appointed ‘leaders’ who have hurled every conceivable flavour of shit at us over the years, daring us, like Rudyard Kipling’s wrathful awakened Saxon, to respond in kind, whereupon they issue immediate state sponsored and institutionally supported violence, censorship and imprisonment for ‘hatred’. Because that’s what Starmer just did. He effectively outlawed righteous anger and indignation. He just cancelled our human right to angrily but lawfully protest in the heat of the moment by declaring a ‘national emergency’ and granting the police state even more extraordinary powers. I’m with the Saxon. I’m beginning to hate:

It was not part of their blood,

It came to them very late,

With long arrears to make good,

When the Saxon began to hate.

They were not easily moved,

They were icy -- willing to wait,

Till every count should be proved,

Ere the Saxon began to hate.

Their voices were even and low.

Their eyes were level and straight.

There was neither sign nor show,

When the Saxon began to hate.

It was not preached to the crowd.

It was not taught by the state.

No man spoke it aloud,

When the Saxon began to hate.

It was not suddenly bred.

It will not swiftly abate.

Through the chilled years ahead,

When time shall count from the date

That the Saxon began to hate.

But others, on our side, recommend that we keep a cool head and we don’t, at this particular time, show our hatred of those who wish our children dead, our women and children raped and our brave soldiers carved up into pieces in front of their wives. I can’t say if this is a sane and sensible policy because I am just too wound up to comment, but it strikes me as submission to tyranny.

I’m not alone. Harriet sums up the indignation of the average British native who has kept their mouth shut for so long for the sake of ‘diversity’ and ‘tolerance’ and not wanting to be labelled as a far right racist. Well that time is past, long gone:

When is the right time to protest? In the heat of the moment, when the anvil is hot, or when the anvil has grown cold? I can’t say for sure, I never was a good strategist, but what I do bloody know is that our self-appointed overlords should not be dictating to us when we can lawfully protest at their convenience! Who are they to remove our right to spontaneity? Who are they to censor our rightful rage at their immoral, corrupt, hateful and ultimately murderous treatment of us, as British citizens? And it’s not like this crap hasn’t happened before, with exactly the same response from the media and government:

When three young children were stabbed on the streets of Dublin last November, the authorities very quickly managed to focus the narrative away from the attacker.

Horror gave way to condemnation of the reaction to the horror.

A 5-year-old girl was left with life-changing injuries and remains in hospital as of the latest report I can find in May this year, when she was described as “non-verbal.”

In the aftermath of the attacks, there was an attempt in Ireland that bordered on the sinister to downplay the original outrage and emphasize the rioting as the real problem.

Some 500 members of the public rioted, and they looked like ordinary Irish men and women to me, but police said they were “led by far-right individuals with anti-immigration views.”

Leo Varadkar, then the Irish Prime Minister, was at the forefront of attempts to denounce the rioters, hinting at plans to bring in draconian new incitement to hatred laws, to the extent that this became the story. It was almost impossible at one stage to get updates on how the little girl was doing.

Melissa sums up my feelings perfectly:

It’s insulting, it’s horrifying, it’s shameful. And it’s the same story over and over, and currently the story is playing out in Southport, in the north of England, where a knifeman murdered three young children, injured eight more, five critically, at a Taylor Swift dance workshop on Monday.

These are the dead children’s names: Bebe King, aged 6, Elsie Dot Stancombe, aged 7, and Alice Dasliva Aguiar, aged 9.

I write them because we must never let the authorities airbrush their names away in favour of concern over the concern at their deaths.

Rioting broke out afterward, as it was blindingly obvious it would do, and instead of doing the proportionate thing by saying they quite understand this reaction while appealing for calm, the authorities, backed by the weedier elements of the mainstream media, shifted the narrative to condemnation of the rioters, who stabbed the sum total of nobody, as usual.

You see the way this goes? It’s not the stabbing of children we need to worry about, in the view of our governments, it’s our reaction to the stabbing of children.

It’s not the hatred inherent in the slashing of an infant we need to preoccupy ourselves with, it’s the hatred of that act, according to the authorities. We need to calm down, be a bit more philosophical about the narrative—that is our leaders’ view.

We don’t need to calm down while they drip feed us the ‘correct’ narrative in order to manage our rage. We need to get mad, mad as hell, and we need to get even. The last bit is where the strategists come in. I’m just mad as hell and no Starmtrooper in drag pretending he is a democratically elected representative of the people (with 20% of the electorate’s vote) is going to quell my rage and indignation.