OLD MAN’S RANT – BAHRAIN THIS MONTH – MAY 2016
A couple of worrying earthquakes, a Fly Dubai pilot error plane crash and the Oscars. It was a boring month for the Marxist media after the preceding months of plenty when Paris and Belgium were under attack and its everyone else’s fault. Headline news; ‘U2 Cancels Paris Concert’. Thankful for small mercies in such heinous times, ‘Paris Had Suffered Enough’ without that prat Bono adding his little red book philosophy. Bored out of their pseudo bolshie Trotsky wits Chris Rock almost lit the media up for the most innocuous and inane of remarks but rumour is he’s black and underprivileged and one of their luvvie boys anyway, so tread carefully. Other than that, we are led to believe that no one in Europe, UK or USA, made not even one racist remark, nor did we hear of a migrant being shot, so it was very quiet all round and utopia reigns. What mosques burning in Sweden are you talking about or the massive brawls between Syrians and Afghanis breaking out everywhere? How dare you suggest that our fair and balanced media are selective and manipulative with what they report?
Then the ‘Panama Papers’ upheaval. Someone you know or you know someone that knows someone who has an offshore stash and so what! This palaver is nothing more than a rather pathetic grab at any little thing to create division and champion this sea of so-called underprivileged. It is the hypocrisy of the polarized Left condemning dosh stashed abroad which they feel they should have having done nothing for it. Who wouldn’t invest tax-free if they could? It’s a bit like asking a native if they have ever been car-jacked at gunpoint in South Africa? Maybe not, but they will know someone who knows someone who knows someone who has been.
Those that have avoided tax will probably list a couple of million reasons why they did it anyway. One strong motive might be that If you have a few bob to spare why should you be forced to plough it back into a heavily laden immigrant society or warped socialist ideology which constantly hands out unending payments to the mindset who believe they are entitled to it just because you have money and they don’t! Dole hacks and breeders whose numbers increase by the coefficient of the number of penises in the neighbourhood every nine months. It is a dilemma, because the same politicians and party members think in parallel, having absolutely no compunction about spending ‘someone else’s’ money in order to court those masses purely to feed their ego and the subsequent vote and membership to the ‘Leg Over Club’. Eventually this growing blob will even overpower the offshore banks as the coefficient becomes so large that times ‘X’ equals an ever increasing minus figure.
Who the hell cares about what’s innocently in Panama? Get to the source of the funds if laundering; do something constructive and beneficial to law and order, not hit dudes who are just looking for a nifty savings account which the bloated socialists demand ‘give me – me – me’.
However, drives to bring the government down like this are expected from the least read Guardian ruled BBC, but it is a shock really to note that the once conservative Telegraph has stooped to poop. There’s something to be said for the tabloids, with page 3 and boobs in your porridge which is frankly better than all this endlessly vile and trivial posturing which is nothing more than sour grapes. Can we get back to; reports like in the ‘Gypsy Gazette’ such as; ‘Chap has vasectomy, thinking it would stop his wife getting pregnant, but all it did was change the colour of the baby’. Stories about incest are now ‘relatively’ boring so they don’t make headlines anymore either.
Yes, it is all very selective! One must ask the question; if luvvie J K Rowling had parked a few of her billions in an offshore tax haven of which she might well have, would the public chastise her? Of course not since she is worshipped by millions of ‘strange’ people who derive phenomenal pleasure from incomprehensible fairy tales. Among this odd bunch there is an army of seat sniffers competing to furnish her (pun) with even more millions just to buy the chair she apparently sat on while writing the Harry Potter series. Why else? Would the same number of enthusiasts buy David Cameron’s office chair? No! But exactly what is the difference?
What a score Cameron was for Corbyn, known to those close as Richard Head. ‘Gottcha’! Not really, but his victim speaks with an undetectable English dialect delivered grammatically perfect, so he must be bad. Sure, the Oxbridge lot deserve all they get when they lodge together like Illuminati gravity, but sometimes they are obliviously innocent.
Besides, who actually likes David Cameron? The likes of the ‘Huffington Post’ or ‘New York Times’ would protect Obama and his endearing treacle oozing weaknesses even if he was a Mafia hit man laundering zillions. It seems to be only Britain’s ridiculously bitter crony filled pseudo-intellectual media who loathe anything entrepreneurial and realistic.
Imagine, Sir Elton John and his side-back-kick David Furnish having funds out there? They have ostensibly been cavorting in a swimming pool of olive oil with other like-minded friends only to successfully have the media gagged about the exploit. The main essence of the story being Furnish’s huge unstoppable diamond cutter like boner as he recounted to someone his WD40 moment of the ménage à trois, but no mention of any funds in Panama so nothing to write about.
OLD MAN’S RANT – APRIL 2015
Page 201
Bahrain this month April 2015
SOAPBOX FOR THE OLD AND GUMPY 3
Spoiler warning: The following article contains flash photography and an authentic sense of humour embodied with language which many who have lost touch with reality will find offensive. Furthermore, the risk of triggering bouts of Jeremy Clarkson syndrome for those affected is quite high
Don’t you just love living in Bahrain where Political Correctness has as much presence as a Casper in a bacon factory here. Bahrain is the classic Hotel California; ‘You can check out any time, but you can never leave’. Utterances like; ‘How dare you’ and ‘apologize now’ are as rare as unicorn dung and you are going nowhere with it even if you try. So for the PColics, here’s an apology before you palpitate; ‘Sorry, you are in Bahrain and you love it. Get over it – now’.
It confuses the life out of expatriates of the appeasement generation who have elsewhere collectively dominated not only what we say, but how we must appease, live and act among each other. A particular flare up issue is and always will be the imported and imposed cultures; those who in principle leave their unhappy, often violent homesteads to pursue a better life in the west, but through bloated Political Correctness are allowed to create what they left behind in the new paid for home. ‘No problem’ reads the flyer; just make sure you vote Socialist. Wait! Sit down, take some water, you are having a Jeremy Clarkson reaction already.
Is it ok to carry on now?
So you have arrived on these shores and are initially horrified by the total disregard for sensitivities other than religion but have somehow fallen in love with the place. A conundrum as Radio Bahrain’s Mr. Fisher would put it and Christopher Hitchens a self-proclaimed Marxist, Neo Conservative (no confusion there then) and polemicist – expounded as to how depressed he was. Even he couldn’t fight his own doctrine. Confused he says; ‘Living in a country where you can be told “That’s offensive” as if those two words constitute and argument’.
While Da’esh physically and terminally wipe priceless artefacts off the earth, limp ‘Peeceeuraucrats’ as far afield as Alaska have engaged in apocalyptic paternalism for the past 40 years or more (Look it up). This culminates in the abstract removal of one of life’s greatest arts, by actively suppressing any form of laughter as they attempt to eliminate all traces of the once upon a time intangible hormone called ‘a sense of humour’, simply because it is deemed offensive to someone somewhere; known or unknown, close by or maybe 50,000 light years away, or even dead. ‘They’ have near succeeded too, judging by the number of trolls out there.
Clarkson’s antics, hype or real has started a colossal world opinion war which could be the obtuse catalyst for a physical revolution. The BBC chocolate box boss says with naïve brainwashed, privileged but amateur confidence; ‘No individual is bigger than the show’. Oh really sir and on which piece of Marxist Fabian parchment does it support that? In this case Mr. Luvvie might consider calling his favourite chiropractor to help him extract his head from behind his belly button. And if Jonofon Roff gets the job it would be a war crime.
It is strikingly obvious; UK and Europe in particular are a mess with a massive volcano about to erupt, as missionary statements commanded by this now echelon of society are being challenged. Forcibly by law ‘they’ have dictated speech content using a viral language called ‘clichéd rhetoric’ in response to anyone who starts a sentence with the words; ‘I think’.
Despite the plethora of peroxide blondes on Fox News never having wanted to master ‘clichéd Rhetoric’, the unearthly profusion of closet members at the BBC are extremely fluent in it. Ask yourself, why did Esperanto fail? Because words like ‘foreign’ (eksterlandaj) and ‘obese’ (graso bastardo) were just too long
The echelon, ‘they’ have successfully been forcing equalization and drabness upon us, even degrading exam standards so as not to offend the dopey. With droves of ‘clichéd Rhetoric’ speakers in tow; mouthpieces like the BBC and newspapers such as The Guardian, Independent, Huffington Post and a good few more, literally ‘speak for us all’. Megalomaniac egos overpower reason, with a desire to neutralize the voter base, in other words make us all totally indistinguishable from each other. You know the rules; do not profile at a crime scene or airport. Vanquish all thoughts that this person might be different because they have a beard or wear tribal like clothes and enforce colour blindness on everyone. Damn Clarkson.
Here’s a simple tip to detect ‘they’ when being subliminally nobbled. Every time you listen to a radio advertising message, promotion, current affairs presenters and now so-called entertainers, be conscious of the voice and demeanour. It is almost like it is one voice or clone of for all now; this incessant sickly, girly sing song replica of that BBC pop channel implant, spewing out insincere happiness. The liberally infected ‘Pronoun Virus’ ever present as she hangs words at the end of every sentence. Je suis all ‘WE’. If not her, then it is an equally effeminate male (we think) with a lisp, doing much the same. The Star Gate is somewhere in the Meteorological Office. Whoops! Severe Clarkson moment. Doctor!!! Plus, clock the clothes, particularly the BBC presenters. The female species so often wear vibrant blue or bright yellow and is as significant as a bird mating ritual. Blokes removing ties would be just too much for now, so wear pink for the same reason and red for allegiance. They even have the gall to wear arm bands if Bono from U2, Paul McCartney or Bob ‘Comfortably Numb’ Geldof strike up a cause. It is all so incestuous and closed shop. Clarkson has never been part of that, having slipped through the corridors years ago and like double jeopardy managed to hang on, but it was never going to be easy.