Beaten and Bloody, Joe Public Waits For the Knockout Blow

Boxers are not pretty. As a boy I watched them on television; black men and white men punching each other, big fists in red gloves. Left hook, uppercut, kidney-punch. High boots and shorts; low blows were 'against the rules'. The rules, however, allowed for hammering your opponent's skull until the brain abandoned the spine and he collapsed unconscious. There was often a moment when one fierce punch scrambled some poor sod's wits and you knew -everyone knew- the next blow would finish him. And he stood there, swaying, waiting. That's Britain now, in the winter of 2022.

Covid was the heavyweight championship of the world -a 24-round contest with no holds barred. In the red corner was the Great Controller, the high-stakes roller...the undefeated holder of the license to print money...the one and only Big Daddy State.  In the blue corner stood the challenger; the Dope without Hope, untrained, untroubled and totally unprepared...lay-dees and gennelmun, let's hear it for Jumbling Joe Public!     

It wasn't much of a fight. Something of a mismatch, in fact. The bell had hardly sounded the start of round one when Jumbling Joe took a lockdown to the jaw and dropped to the canvas. He got to his feet after a sixteen-week count and started swinging, but four rounds later he still hadn't got within two metres of landing a blow. Big Daddy never stopped punching however, knocking Joe off-balance with the Rule of Six, a hospitality curfew and three-tier restrictions. 

In round eight (November 2020) Joe took another almighty lockdown, from which he never really recovered. Although still technically upright, during the next year Joe was unable to mount a serious defense, despite masking up, avoiding weddings, funerals and Xmas and washing his gloves between rounds. A series of ferocious jabs left him hanging on the ropes and the referee stopped the fight quite suddenly in January of 2021.  

                                                                                   

The fight didn't stop, however. If we view the Covid era as what it was -an attack on the public by the State- then subsequent events are revealed to be a continuation of the same assault. Emboldened by the success of the pandemic smash 'n grab, the State now condemns us to live in a permanent emergency. A series of 'extreme circumstances' has been prepared, and each follows hard on the heels of the one before.  

A smooth shift of gear moved our attention from the Covid Crisis to the Ukraine Crisis, which quickly evolved into another State-announced 'national energy emergency'. This new disaster -just like Covid- immediately made us poorer and promised major suffering for the weakest and least able. Inevitably, as in 2020 and 2021, the concentrated attack on our wellbeing will peak in the cold months of winter. 

With the neverending Climate Emergency as a backdrop, the Crisis theatre is always open for business -just not your business, little guy. And every emergency has remarkably similar  consequences:

Travel restrictions for all but the rich.

 Small businesses and shops close

Inflation

Poverty and isolation

Internet dependency 

This is the New World we are being ordered to accept. Of course, the order is never spoken aloud, but everyone understands quite well that the only option is compliance. Every part of the State agenda is now directly aimed at limiting public social activity and driving us indoors. Our behaviour can be modified simply by removing any trace of joy from previously relaxing activities. When an experience becomes dismal enough, you end up avoiding it. Remember when you could board an aeroplane without undergoing ritual public humiliation? Remember the utterly degrading farce of visiting a pub in 2021? 

THE LAST PINT

My final solo 'night out' that winter was a surrreal pantomime. Maskless, I announced myself 'exempt' to the bouncer, whereupon some muzzled neurotic leapt between me and the bar babbling "Tablethervth. Tablethervthonly. TABILTHERVITHONLY! With all the charm and tact of a prison warder, she hustled me down a passage into a cold, faraway room where I was placed alone in the corner behind a large round table. My pint arrived, flat and warm, after an interval so long I had written and memorised four different obscene limericks. A pair of brothers across the room -seated six feet apart- watched me drink the way you might observe a caged gorilla in the zoo. Their eyes glared from the space between self-inflicted haircuts and their soggy masks. I realised their drinks hadn't arrived yet. I left and haven't entered a pub since.

On the island where I live, there are only six pubs left from what used to be twenty-two. The Why Not bar was closed on Thursday evening when I walked past at 8.30 p.m. which looks ominous. Yet the inns are fighting an impossible battle. The cost of heating a Scottish pub in winter is now astronomical, so the pub interiors are, I am told, increasingly cold. Legislation is coming soon to ban the use of wood or coal fires in licensed premises. So one of the great pleasures of a British winter -a pint in front of an open fire in your local- will shortly vanish down the memory hole.

The same problems bedevil restaurants and cafes. Eating and drinking 'out' is gradually becoming less enjoyable and near-unaffordable for the majority -and this is entirely deliberate. In the large cities where 70% of us live, the results are dire. As ordinary folk forsake public spaces, increasingly bold migrant gangs step into them. 

The new model police, however, only function as political enforcers. Our uniformed Karens turn a blind eye to the triumph of ghetto-culture. Instead, they permit and promote selected 'PC' protesters who obstruct the lives of outraged citizens, and carefully avoid the business of actual crime-prevention.  There are no serious attempts made to control street-crime, so mugging, gang-fights and mob violence are everyday urban hazards. 

A huge, violent mob created fiery mayhem the other night, creating a massive 'no-go area' on the streets of -wait for it- Dundee. Dundee was, for over a century, a notably quiet, civilised town where such an event would have been considered utterly impossible. Media reports described the culprits as 'youths' -the new non-stick sanitised term which means 'no description allowed'.  Dundee, we now know, has fallen. But how could it be otherwise? The contagion will only spread faster as the invasion gathers pace. 

In response, when darkness falls, ordinary decent people retreat into their homes in a form of self-imposed curfew -exactly as desired by the social engineers behind both the lockdown experiments and the mass immigration programme.

But compelling us towards self-incarceration is not merely a physical abomination. What we do impacts heavily on how we think. Once entering public spaces and meeting other people become unpleasant experiences, we see a physical reflection of the poisonous arena of social media, where fanatics, cry-bullies, organised mobs and morons dominate. The weak, timid and sensitive, the overworked and the elderly shy away from hostile environments. Whether it's online verbal abuse or overpriced, uncomfortable surroundings, they don't want the aggro.

The result is that millions of thoughtful, intelligent souls shut the fuck up. When social engagement -real or digital- becomes a grim, meaningless struggle in an unappealing space, we will retreat to the relative safety of our own -probably limited- resources, and detach. We will cease to participate, and stop caring.  

Which is precisely what the social engineers are anticipating. Removing our ability to draw comfort from others is their most obvious intent, but it's likely that further, darker purposes are also being pursued. The consequences of a fragmented society will be an explosion of mental ilness -already in evidence- which will, in turn, push depression and suicide numbers through the roof. 

HEALTH

It is not a coincidence that programmes of 'assisted' suicide -that is, encouraged suicide- are being shamelessly rolled out across western societies. Have you ordered your "Sarco Suicide Pod" yet? As the manufacturer cheerfully explains,

The Sarco suicide pod aims to take assisted dying out of doctors' hands with AI and 3D printing

[CLICK HERE to view SARCO products]

Coupled with the deliberate, now seasonal assault on the weakest and oldest, we can see calculated, State-sponsored exercises in culling the herd. We the people have become the enemy. Accelerating the death total is now official government policy. Far from being an innocent victim of circumstance, the NHS has been destroyed on purpose.  

We inhabit a country where the post of "Health Secretary" was awarded to a pay-as-you-go weasel (Matt Hancock) followed by a career bankster (Sajid Javid), followed by a morbidly obese cigar-smoking piss artist (Therese Coffey). These are not people interested in our "health". 

The current leaders of the regime have all elbowed their way into their top jobs with no formal public input whatsoever. This is not government, but a theatrical display. Presumably, we are expected to focus on the insincere babble spouting from whatever con-artist is in charge this week, and ignore the nightmarish collapse of the functional society we had a mere three years ago.

I can sense that a crunch is coming because too many of the real problems have been allowed to escalate past the point of  no return. On an unconscious level perhaps, we already know what is likely to happen next. There are historical precedents for erasing otherwise insurmountable difficulties, and the answer is always the same: death on an industrial scale. 

The most efficient acceleration of the death total is -traditionally- achieved by a localised conflict which erupts into a large-scale war, which then embroils numerous countries in a continental holocaust, with mass casualties running to tens of millions. It looks very much like that process has already begun. The Russian ambassador to Britain warned yesterday that Britain's involvement in the Ukraine conflict is already "too deep". I think more than a few of us had already figured that out.

From an elite perspective -and there appears to be no other that matters- a couple of billion deaths in Europe would be a major step towards achieving the Holy Goals of Net Zero and The Great Reset. 

Concussed, bleeding and confused, arms dangling limp, Britain stands swaying in the centre of the ring. Waiting.          

Ian Andrew-Patrick

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