It has been a busy week

It has been a busy week

 

FIRST, I MET A MAN . . . . .

20 Feb 2018 – I didn’t physically meet the man I have in mind at this moment. I met him through his written work, what you might describe as a meeting of the minds. To my way of thinking that is one of the beautiful things about books and libraries and limitless access to the internet – there can be a meeting of the minds without intrusive images, accents and other distractions which could distort the words and the message. Long Live Books!

The man was German-American poet and writer, Charles Bukowski, who died in March 1994. I’ve selected the following from one of his many poems:

GO ALL THE WAY

Poet: Charles Bukowski

If you’re going to try, go all the way.
Otherwise, don’t even start.

If you’re going to try, go all the way.
This could mean losing girlfriends, wives,

relatives, jobs and maybe your mind.

Go all the way.

It could mean not eating for 3 or 4 days.
It could mean freezing on a park bench.
It could mean jail, it could mean derision,
mockery, isolation.

Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your
endurance, of how much you really want to do it.
And you’ll do it despite rejection and the worst odds
and it will be better than anything else
you can imagine.

If you’re going to try, go all the way.
There is no other feeling like that.
You will be alone with the gods
and the nights will flame with fire.

Do it, do it, do it. DO IT.

All the way
All the way.

You will ride life straight to perfect laughter.

It’s the only good fight there is.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

AND THEN I MET ANOTHER MAN . . .

 (This time I did truly meet him, in the flesh, alive and kicking. His name is Andrew Cole, and he’s spittin’ feathers! – That’s a euphemism for ‘he is living with his passion’. He is a ‘go all the way’ man.)

Like many of us, in the course of his day-to-day journeys, Andrew has heard so many people express their disquiet about ‘the way things are’. I’ve heard them and so have you. There is just too much wrongness being reported day after day, night and day, on TV and in the papers. So much so that we can’t readily identify fact from fiction anymore. But we’re beginning to wake up. The idea that ‘truth is the first casualty of war’ comes to mind and ‘war’ (another euphemism for ‘vested interests’) seems to be everywhere.

Andrew has chosen a direct, four-cornered approach. 

(1) He cares about what we think of as OUR DEMOCRACY (which is NOT THE SAME as having universal suffrage). Think about that. We can vote tyrants into positions of leadership without realising the error of our ways until it is too late; 

(2) he believes we –that’s you and me – should/ought/must uphold our Natural and Common Laws, which isn’t something that Parliament, political parties, politicians, and the legal profession ever want to acknowledge. . . except on their own preferential terms; 

(3) he wants us to defend our assets and territories, and our right to them; and 

(4) he defends (and invites us to join him in defending) our customs and culture – those essential rights which Her Majesty The Queen swore to uphold in her Coronation Oath and which her councillors (QCs) told her she couldn’t do if Parliament had other ideas.

So, whatcha gonna do ‘bout it, Andrew?

Andrew plans to put a knot in it and take to the road, Jack. Four knots, in fact – one for each of his passions. The it will be his four-knotted-handkerchief and those four-knotted handkerchiefs of others from the 77 or so constituencies he plans to pass through who will identify with his passion on the way - or not. During April he plans to walk from Edinburgh to Westminster, alone or with others, encouraged or booed, come rain or come shine and meet in the palaces of Westminster any honest Lord, Lady or Common Member who will receive his petition.

Andrew’s major question is: What will YOU do about it, dear Reader?

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

AND THEN I MET 

YET ANOTHER MAN NAMED ANDREW

His name is Judge Andrew P Napolitano, author of a book (which is where I met him) entitled IT IS DANGEROUS TO BE RIGHT WHEN THE GOVERNMENT IS WRONG. The case for Personal Freedom.

Andrew meet Andrew.

The flyleaf of Judge APN’s book asks: “DOES THE GOVERNMENT EXIST TO SERVE US OR TO MASTER US? 

“If the government exists to serve us, and if freedom is part of our humanity, how can the government take freedom from us? Is human freedom in America a myth (name your country of choice – MD) or is it reality?

“The United States of America was born out of a bloody revolt against tyranny yet almost from its inception the government here has suppressed liberty.”

(Meanwhile, in England and the UK we never ever let go of our hold on tyranny – MD).

As I said, it has been a busy week. How was it for you?

More importantly, what, if anything, will YOU do differently in the week and weeks ahead? 

Will you GO FOR IT ALONGSIDE Andrew Cole?

Your call.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

For more detailed information by Jeremie about Andrew Cole's mission go to:

http://4knottedhanky.wordpress.com/

* * * * *

The Emperor's New Clothes

by Hans Christian Anderson

I'm grateful to a man named Sam Parker who lives and works in Richmond, Virginia, for drawing my attention this week to this old, old story. 

( https://inspireyourpeople.com )

As I read the story my mind wandered to the message it contained - perhaps hidden at first reading but quickly becoming apparent to the musing reader. He who has eyes, let him see.

The Emperor’s New Clothes

by Hans Christian Anderson

Many, many years ago lived an emperor, (President/Prime Minister/stage struck Party politician) who thought so much of new clothes that he spent all his money in order to obtain them. His only concern was to be always well dressed. He did not care for his soldiers and the theatre did not amuse him. The only thing, in fact, he thought anything of was to drive about and show himself off in a new suit of clothes. He had a coat for every hour of the day and as one would say of a king “He is in his council chamber,” so one could say of him, “The emperor is in his dressing-room.” 

The great city where he resided was merry and gay. Every day many strangers from all parts of the world arrived. One day two swindlers (spin doctors) came to this city having people believe they were weavers, and declared they could manufacture the finest cloth to be imagined. Their colours and patterns, they said, were not only exceptionally beautiful, but the clothes made of their material possessed the wonderful quality of being invisible to any man who was unfit for his office or unpardonably stupid. 

“That must be wonderful cloth,” thought the emperor (President/Prime Minister/stage struck Party politician). “If I were to be dressed in a suit made of this cloth I should be able to find out which people in my empire were unfit for their places, and I could distinguish the clever from the stupid. I must have this cloth woven for me without delay.” And he gave a large sum of money to the swindlers (spin doctors), in advance, that they should set to work without any loss of time. 

They set up two looms and pretended to be very hard at work, but they actually did nothing at all. They asked continually for the finest silk and the most precious gold cloth, keeping all they received for themselves while working at the empty looms till late at night. 

“I should very much like to know how the weavers are getting on with the cloth,” thought the emperor. But he felt rather uneasy when he remembered that he who was not fit for his office could not see it. Personally, he was of the opinion he had nothing to fear, yet he thought it safer to send somebody else first to see how matters stood. Everybody in the town knew what a remarkable quality the stuff possessed, and all were anxious to see how stupid their neighbors might be. 

“I shall send my honest old minister (acolyte/jobsworth/useful idiot) to the weavers,” thought the emperor. “He can judge best how the stuff looks, for he is intelligent, and nobody is better fit for his office than he.” 

The good old minister went into the room where the swindlers sat before the empty looms. “Heaven preserve us!” he thought, and opened his eyes wide, “I cannot see anything at all.” 

But he did not say so.

Both swindlers requested him to come near. “Do you not admire the exquisite pattern and beautiful colours?” one of them asked, sweeping his hand across the empty loom. 

The poor old useful idiot tried his very best, but he could see nothing, for there was nothing to be seen. “Oh dear,” he thought, “can I be so stupid? I should never have thought so, and nobody must know it! Is it possible that I am not fit for my office? No, no, I cannot say that I was unable to see the cloth.” 

“Have you got nothing to say?” said the other swindler, pretending to be busily weaving. 

“Oh, it is very pretty. Exceedingly beautiful,” replied the old minister looking through his glasses. “What a beautiful pattern, what brilliant colours! I shall tell the emperor that I like the cloth very much.” 

“We are pleased to hear that,” said one of the poseurs. And he went on describing to the minister each of the colours in the non-existent cloth, explaining in detail its curious pattern. The old minister listened very carefully. He wanted to be sure he could repeat to the emperor the description the swindlers shared. 

And that he did.

Soon after, the swindlers asked for more money, silk, and gold cloth as though it were needed for their work to continue. Instead, they kept everything for themselves, using not a thread as they kept up their appearance of weaving at the empty loom.

In due time, the emperor sent another honest official from his court to see how the weavers were getting on with the cloth. Like the old minister, he looked and looked but saw nothing, as there was nothing to be seen. 

“Is it not a beautiful piece of cloth?” asked one of the swindlers, showing and explaining the magnificent pattern that did not exist.

“I am not stupid,” thought the man. “It is therefore my important court position for which I am not fit. It is very strange, but I must not let any one know it.” He praised the cloth which he did not see, and expressed his joy at the beautiful colours and the fine pattern which did not exist.

“It is wonderful,” he told the emperor.

Everybody in the whole town talked about the precious cloth. And, at last the emperor wished to see it himself, while it was still on the loom. With a number of his chosen men, including the two who had already been there, he went to visit the imposters; who now worked as hard as they could, with not a thread. 

“Is it not magnificent?” said the two statesmen who had been there before. “Your Majesty must admire the colours and the pattern.” And they pointed to the empty looms, for they imagined the others could see the cloth which they themselves could not. 

“What is this?” thought the emperor. “I do not see anything at all. How terrible! Am I stupid? Am I unfit to be emperor? That would indeed be the most dreadful thing that could happen to me.” 
 
“Really,” he said, turning to the weavers, “your cloth has our most gracious approval.” And nodding confidently he looked at the empty loom, being sure not to let anyone know he saw nothing. 

All his attendants and civil servants who were with him looked and looked, and although they could not see anything more than the others, they declared, like the emperor, “It is very beautiful.” And all advised him to have clothes made of this magnificent new cloth and to wear those clothes in the great procession which was soon to take place. “This is wonderful! Beautiful! Superb!” one heard them say. 

Everyone seemed to be delighted, so the emperor appointed the two swindlers Weavers of the Imperial Court. (Lords/knights/OBEs/QCs)

Throughout the night previous to the day on which the procession was to take place, the swindlers pretended to work, burning more than sixteen candles. People were to see that they were busy finishing the emperor’s new clothes. They pretended to take the cloth from the loom and worked about in the air with big scissors, sewing with needles without thread. At last they said, “The emperor’s new clothes are ready.” 

The emperor and all his barons then came to the hall where the swindlers held their arms up as if they held something in their hands and said, “These are the trousers! Here is the coat! Here is the cloak!” and so on. “They are all as light as a cobweb. One must feel as if one had nothing at all upon the body and that is just the beauty of them.”

“Indeed!” said all the emperor’s men.

But they could see nothing, for there was nothing to be seen.
“Does it please your Majesty now to graciously undress,” said the swindlers, “that we may assist your Majesty in putting on the new clothes before the grand mirror?” 

The emperor undressed and the swindlers pretended to put the new clothes upon him, one piece after another, as the emperor looked at himself in the mirror from every side. 

“How wonderful they look! How well they fit!” said all. “What a beautiful pattern! What fine colours! That is a magnificent suit of clothes!” 

The master of the ceremonies announced that the bearers of the emperor’s canopy, which was to be carried in the procession, were ready. 

“I am ready,” said the emperor. “Are not my clothes marvellous?” Then he turned around once more before the mirror so the people should think he admired his garments. 

The chamberlains, who were to carry the train, put their hands to the ground as if they lifted up a train and pretended to hold something in their hands. They would not let anyone know they could see nothing. 

With the beautiful canopy above him, the emperor marched along in the procession. All who saw him in the street and out of the windows exclaimed, “Indeed, the emperor’s new clothes are incomparable! How splendid they are! How well they fit! And what a wonderful train!” Nobody wished to let others know they saw nothing, for then they would appear stupid and unfit for their posts.

Never were the emperor’s clothes more admired.

“But he has nothing on at all,” said a young child at last. 
 
“Good heavens! Listen to the voice of an innocent child,” said the father. And one person whispered to another what the child had said.

“But he has nothing on at all,” everyone began to shout.

That shook the emperor, for it seemed to him they were right. “Even so,” he thought to himself, “I must continue until the end.” 

 
And the emperor held himself still more proudly, and the chamberlains walked with even greater dignity, as they proceeded to carry the train which did not exist.

(ends)

* * * * *

And nobody remembered 

 Cause no harm

 (because they allowed the delusion to continue)

Be honest

 (because none knew the meaning of the word)

Be peaceful

(because 'follow my leader' was all they understood)

Be responsible

(What? Me? Think for myself? Not me, blame the child)

Let him (or her) with eyes to see, see.

* * * * *

 

AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT

THE CLARION CALL

by the Volunteer.

Motivated by a vision of world peace and justice;

inspired by a selfless German WW2 witness called Martin Niemöller (1892 – 1984);

and the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley,

AND in memory of the Peterloo massacre in Manchester of August 1819.

Truth need not be offensive. Nevertheless, we offer no apologies to readers who are too easily offended. Why? Because awareness of the truth is more important today than are polite sensibilities.

First they tried to come for the Truthers, the aware, the awake, the switched on, the informed, the whistleblowers, Melanie, the knowledgeable, the wise, the compassionate, the brave, the constitutionalists who announced the invocation of our Great Security Clause, Article 61 of the 1215 Magna Carta.

Then they tried to scapegoat the Muslims, the Jews, the Christians, the Sikhs & Hindu’s, the whistleblowers, Brexiteers, migrants, disabled, elderly, vulnerable, children, the poor and poorly, the unemployed, the homeless . . . . .

Even the Mind Kontrolled, brainwashed, sheepeople; the egotists, the telly addicts & pleasure seekers, the useful idiots, the technocrats, the green corporate conservatives, socialists & liberal politically correct system servers, the traitors, the deluded, the selfish, the bourgeois, the wealthy, fearful, corrupt Fabien sheep-in-wolf’s clothing with secret agendas and the deceptive, philanthropic, charitable masks of sustainable common purpose … were not spared by the monster they served & feared. Of course there would be no one left prepared to defend or fight for them.

Rise like lions after slumber.

Rise as sovereigns in unvanquishable number.

Shake your chains to the earth like dew

which in sleep had fallen upon you,

WE ARE MANY, THEY ARE FEW.

The true light of kindness, truth & compassion will always overcome the demonic darkness. Kindness, love, responsibility and the rule of our natural common law must always prevail.

First They Came for the Jews
By Pastor Niemoller

First they came for the Jews and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the Communists and I did not speak out because I was not a Communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak out for me. 

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Now read this:

First they handed our country's finances to private banks who charge interest on money they produce out of thin air. We didn't speak up because we didn't KNOW or understand what they were doing.

Then they taxed us beyond endurance. We didn't speak up because we were too busy working to pay the taxes.

Then they put up cameras to watch our every move and we didn't speak up because we weren't doing anything wrong.

Then they attacked our free speech and our freedom to think. We didn't speak up because we didn't want to be arrested for voicing our thoughts and concerns.

Then they opened our borders.  We didn't speak up because we didn't want to be called racists.

NOW - THEY ARE HANDING OVER ALL OUR ARMED FORCES TO THE E.U.     

WILL YOU BEGIN TO SPEAK UP? SEVENTEEN AND HALF MILLION PEOPLE VOTED TO LEAVE THE E.U.  So why are we still paying their extortionate demands?  Why are we handing them our national defence and bowing down to all their other their demands?

Ninety percent of British people are being ruled by ten percent of elitists  but we are many. They are few.

TIME TO STAND UP AND SPEAK OUT

JOIN US! Join a movement to restore our freedoms: 

www.ukcolumn.org OR

www.britishconstitutiongroup.com OR any group in your area or on the internet that is fighting for justice, the truth and our freedom.

Do it Now, before there aren't any free people left to speak out.

  

*****