Speakers and Screens - the Business of Faking News

I often feel we inhabit two parallel worlds: the real one and the fantasy universe created by speakers and screens. Planet radio and TV is not a place I recognise. It was bad enough a few years ago when (according to the S&S media) the 'activist' tail was wagging the political dog. I'm thinking of the good old days when four stoned teenage vegans would pick a nice sunny afternoon to wail and sob for an hour on some butcher's doorstep to impress their Facebook friends.

To my amazement, this kind of non-event would then be transformed into front-page news, replayed on S&S (radio &TV) and deconstructed in 12p-a-word prose by the grand-a-week "commentators" in the Sunday papers.  But that kind of bilge did not, apparently, convert enough of us to the Cult of the Great Reset. In the Bizarro universe of 2021 the tail no longer wags the dog. The fleas have eaten the political dog and are driving the clown-car over a cliff.

DIGI-TRIBES

Tiny minorities -they expect us to believe- are tearing society to pieces. Trans-people/ LGBTQ+KFC&$ / Islamists/vegans/XR/Insulate Britain/BLM etc. Yet in reality, these are piffling little digi-tribes with no significant support among the general public. Most of us know this perfectly well. 

But in the fictional world of speakers and screens, fringe lunatics are the most important creatures on earth. It's a carnival of distraction; a rolling sequence of fake controversies designed to keep us off-balance while they nick all the money and build a prison big enough to lock up the public for daring to breathe.

At street-level, two significant changes have occurred. 

FAKE THE NEWS

(1) Mainstream media has abandoned any pretence of news-gathering and switched to aggressive, globalist-groupthink propaganda. To accept any part of the TV/radio/newspaper world requires a daily, hourly denial of reality. To swallow their astonishing output of lies means closing our eyes and ears to what is actually happening. 

To give just one example, there is a woman called Patel who has been employed as Britain's "Home Secretary" for nearly two years. The most important part of her job is to control the level of illegal immigration into this country. On May 26th 2020 -seventy-two weeks ago- she made a public statement. Below is a screenshot of how the Daily Mail reported that statement...

Please note that last sentence -over 1400 illegal channel-crossings in 10 months. That was last year. In the real world, Mrs Patel has now allowed these 'trips' to multiply by over one thousand. Last spring it took 10 months to get 1400 benefit tourists across the channel. This week it took 36 hours. 

A toilet-cleaner I know is employed to clean four council toilets a day. Using the example of 'Home Secretary' Priti Patel as a metric, my friend could clean NO public toilets at all for FOUR YEARS and still get paid. 

Not a single politician from any party has stood up in the Westminster talking shop to point out this deranged, Alice-in-Wonderland disparity between the words and the inaction. The woman they call the 'Home Secretary' does nothing at all to prevent illegal immigration. In fact, her profound non-efforts have made the immigration problem a thousand times worse. 

Prit Patel, we note, is the daughter of an immigrant. It's that kind of government. The 'Health Secretary' is the son of an immigrant. The 'Chancellor' is the son of an immigrant. All three are filthy rich. Not one of them has a shred of loyalty to -or interest in- the indigenous population of Britain. In a matter of weeks, one of them will be the Prime Minister. That'll be when the real party starts.

No-one in the world of speakers and screens is allowed to mention these things. No one will dare whisper the truth -that the entire country is being run by, and for, people from elsewhere. People who clearly despise Britain and are destroying it as fast as possible. But this is the truth. 

[CLICK HERE to dispose of your flat-screen TV] 

GROUPTHINKERS

(2) The second important change has been the idealogical marriage between the idle and the ignorant. Legions of purposeless, twiddle-class hippies have merged with everyone aged under thirty in the mad belief that appearing on TV (or social media) is "siezing the tools of power". Because futile events that occur on the speakers and screens are more important than reality.

Of course, it's always encouraging to know your personal agenda has the backup of Youtube, Google, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Tik-Tok and a coven of trans-national corporate vampires. That's why dill-brained eco-prats can paste their testicles to a jumbo jet or dance the green-blob tango on the M25 with confidence. The worst that can happen is three or four thousand likes on some mindless digital platform. And it's a fun day out. The cops will eventually 'arrest' them (the way Snow-White might arrest a friendly dwarf) sometime after lunch. Later at the police station, some plump, lazy constable will waddle down to the cells with trays of vegan subs and Starbucks coffee, before sending the 'activists' home with a nod and a wink.

This performance is allowed because Britain's new-model police force are merely political robo-shepherds. Their job is to protect all the state-sponsored obsessives from the wrath of the sane, leaving the Reset media free to amplify nonentities into 'public figures'. Albeit, figures with a shorter shelf-life than raw meat. Blink three times and Gormless Greta will vanish faster than the Green Goblin.

But on the speakers and screens, the after-party never ends.  Neurotic, work-shy losers are hardly going to resist the offer of free publicity, praise and universal online support. All they have to do is get out of bed once a week and create a public nuisance. If they hadn't failed to attract friends or partners, they might have secured those important outside influences that stop prozac addicts becoming professional arseholes. But the lure of the smartphone was just too much. #MyPerfectProtest.

The Greenies must the cheapest army of dumbells ever recruited. The global elite probably spent their holiday in Glasgow pissing with laughter at the sheer number of knuckle-draggers prepared to bang drums for the billionaires.

And on the cracked pavements and rat-infested streets of the city itself, clean, well-fed schoolgirls waved their corporate-inspired eco-placards  while chanting the mantra of climate catstrophe to the waiting TV cameras. I suppose it all means something to the millions of drones who spend their lives alone with speakers and screens. I'm going out for a walk now, to see if there are any seals in the harbour.

Ian Andrew-Patrick

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