Britain's "Democracy" Is A Sick Joke


What's important to you? If you listed a top ten, I doubt it would include the televised antics of a gang of crooked millionaires whose parents moved here from Africa and Asia. I'm referring to  "top politicians" -that UK tv game show where everybody wins a prize and the audience pays for it. If the media are to be believed, however, these are the only people who matter. Not you, your family, your job, your street, town or city. They call this "government" and it's a cold, sick joke.

Remember the expression "public servants"? Seen one lately? 

Well, let's see, they say there's a 'local council' running a scam or two near you- but if it wasn't for the (extremely) occasional sighting of bin men and the regular astronomical tax bills, you'd struggle to believe the councillors existed at all. I wouldn't recognise one if I was paid to although thousands are said to exist. Shy devils, these servants.

There are thousands of teachers, of course, but you don't see much of them either, as they're not keen on "interacting" with adults. Can't get enough interaction with your kids, though. They're rushed off their feet explaining their complex, very personal sexual fetishes (to six year-olds) dying their hair in rainbows, whispering pronouns in tiny ears and cancelling math classes to spend more "quality" time turning straight kids queer and gay kids trans. Plus packing the school library with graphic child-porn. Busy bods, teachers.

How about the miracle of "public transport"? Well, it is still possible to catch a train -if you're psychic, fit enough to run 300 metres on smooth concrete in under a mnute, dragging a heavy suitcase between randomly-changing platforms, and financially sound enough to lend the train companies regular large sums for "cancellations" that render your tickets worthless until you "redeem" them after a few hours of unpaid online/telephone work and a month of emails. It's a service though, so they must be servants, right?

There's also buses, but ten minutes on a bus is about as much fun as going three rounds with a cage-fighter. Your ribs get tenderised by contact wounds from pastel-coloured hand-rails and luggage racks, and the rest of your limbs enjoy a series of uninvited physical engagements with  densely-packed familes of  optimum diversity. Not to mention smashing your kneecaps upon two or three double-seater prams containing all tomorrow's cabinet-ministers. That's why pensioners get free bus passes - it helps finish them off and relieves the strain on thhe NHS.

TOP OF THE TREE

And then -don't laugh- there's the "politicians" themselves -who pretend to be in charge of all the grift, chaos, perversion and indignities listed above. Didja hear that ex-PM David Cameron's back in the government? DIDJA??!!? It's unprecedented (the Times) . It's seismic (Telegraph) -or possibly it's about us utterly meaningless as anything you could possibly imagine outside of a BBC news item.

News, they call it. So the nasty ambitious female millionaire said bad things about the grinning mini-mook with the billionaire father-in-law, and as a punishment SHE got "sacked" from the job she wasn't doing anyway, so then the tiny tot resurrects the Cameron guy (who got sacked years ago for doing nothing) by making him one of those "Lords" who do even less...and SHE  said some super-great things before she got the sack -did you read what she said? DIDJA!!??  

SPLISH

Night falls over England and, if you listen carefully, you can hear the swish and plish of a thousand more paddles creeping towards Folkestone and Dover, just like yesterday, and last week, last year and every week of the ten years before, except the plishing is quite a lot louder.  

So now the lucky citizens of the North West Global Republic of the United Kingdom have a Foreign Secretary who is in fact -god forbid- a white heterosexual man. Clearly, despite thirteen consecutive years of societal abuse, king-kong corruption, an army filled with pregnant lesbian commandos, a navy that can't stop rubber dinghies and a two-year pandemic hoax that created fifty new billionaires, the entire nation will now decide to vote Conservative, because look! It's David Cameron! Nice thinking, chaps.

Thank the lord we live in a "democracy" eh? God bless the two party system. When the election comes you, me and anyone else dumb enough to think voting counts for more than a cat's fart will be free to choose between the party that promises us:  

(A)  unlimited illegal immigration, fifteen-minute ghettos for all and eternal climate hysteria, in a cashless hellscape controlled by Google-friendly billionaires, 

                                                            OR...

(B) see (A)

This, we are invited to believe, is the difference between inhabiting a democracy and living in the confusion, poverty and fear of a communist dictatorship. You actually know where you stand in this country (at the end of a very long queue for saomething you will never recieve) and that's what counts when it comes to choosing your next top Muslim overlord prime minister.

Lucky inhabitants of Scotland will be looking at a straight choice in 2024 between the muslim-led SNP  and muslim-led Labour. The English (bless them) get the choice between the  muslim-led Conservatives and a Labour party with a gammon up front. Watch out for lots of dual selfies with Rishi 'n Dave smirking for England. Shag that funky pig's head white boy!

But dem ol' graphics are not quite so simple down south. Once the so-called Labour party is safely installed in power, the invisible godlets who run the machine will remove Kier Starmer and install a celebrity prime-minister nobody voted for. Come the real vote (which won't include you) Ladbrokes will be offering even money on a female muslim - but don't write off the growing cadre of African/British wannabe MPs due to line up beneath the mighty red rossette.  

You can vote for any PM  you like but if you think you'll get to keep him/her/they/them, then think again. In an age where all the political players are already steeped in sin and sodom, party chiefs are as disposable as soiled wetwipes. Ask Thatcher, May, Cameron, Johnson, Corbyn, even poor wee Lizzy Truss or the micro-aggressive Sturgeon. 

The 2024 general (s)election is hurtling towards us at ramming speed, like a Viking warship with Kier Starmer lashed to the figurehead. But nobody in Westminster believes for one minute that the subsequent four years will feature a stale, white male heterosexual reading the script at Prime Minister's Questions. Starmer's the slimy bait on the globalist hook, primed to be swallowed whole by the Uniparty. And remember you heard it here first. Public servants -doncha love 'em?  

Ian Andrew-Patrick

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Comments

  1. You are quite correct in your prediction that whoever is pushed stage front for the election will be exiting stage left by the morrow. Hopefully pursued by a bear. It's nothing new, I recall someone being elected chief grand panjandrum of the old GLC, only to morph into Red Ken the newt fancier. To be fair the Tories have perfected the art. Is Rich boy a one act bit part, to be replaced by whoever is pacing her dressing room, reciting her lines? Will it be Cruella, will it be Pretty? Frankly I don't care about their shadow theatre, it's becoming like a Pinter play and about as meaningful.

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    1. "Hopefully pursued by a bear" -priceless, Andy, an out-loud guffaw to start the day.

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