The Coming Deluge?

“The official version of events in the UK media is that the murders are an isolated incident and the public must stop talking about it, let the police handle it, but the protests are a nationally coordinated far right extremist conspiracy, which must be met with aggressive force and further destruction of what few civil liberties remain.”

A comment from a guest post at Postcards from Barsoom, which can be read here: Who Speaks for the Children?

Violent protests, and even riots are happening in Manchester and other English cities, following a bloody knife attack on a children’s dance workshop by the teenaged son of Rwandan refugees. Three little girls were murdered and several more girls and their teachers badly injured – and such protests might indicate to distant observers such as myself that the native British are finally fed to the teeth with a flood-tide of migrants, and violent criminal depredations by recent immigrants that are basically excused when they aren’t outright ignored by politicians, the press, academics and activists. Popular historians often make note of social snobbery in the Victorian era – where the upper classes looked down on anyone “in trade” and sneered at the working class … but I don’t see that the Victorians thoroughly despised their fellow countrymen to the degree that the modern British ruling class despises everything about the ordinary native British working folks.

Slow But Exceedingly Fine

I see from various sources that the Israelis have finally done in one of Hezbollah’s senior-ranking terrorists, one Fouad Shakar, who had a multi-million-dollar bounty on his head for involvement in the bombing of the Marine barracks in Beirut, Lebanon. The mills of justice may grind very slowly, but they eventually grind very fine. Well, he got to live more than forty years longer than the 241 Marines blown up in 1983, and I hope without much conviction that he spent every one of those years looking nervously over his shoulder. The Hezbollah organization was also behind the kidnapping, gruesome torture and murder of Americans in Lebanon in the 1980s, and the protracted hijacking of TWA 847 in the summer of 1985.

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Retribution

The last couple of weeks are certain to be wild chapters in future history books and feature any number of scorching memoirs written by insiders in future years, as far as political life in these United States goes. Drama, treachery, double-dealing, lies upon lies, assassination and plots within plots – a spectacle that we can only watch from the outside in horrified fascination, while attempting to unpick the various threads and figure out what in the name of the wide, wide world of blood sports is going on. That something tremendous is happening, and we can sense that once-solid verities are shifting and reforming under the surface. We conservativish long-time observers of the scene can sense a fresh breeze beginning to rise, the dawn of something bright shining over the horizon, the first rumblings of a preference cascade. In the words of the Bishop of Wakefield’s inspiring hymn

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
and hearts are brave again, and arms are strong!

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Best Eaten Cold

Revenge, as the old saying has it, is a dish best served cold. And revenge may not be the only – or the most dangerous – platter best dished up chilled. That would be the dish of anger – that ice-cold, sullen reservoir of fury in the hearts of every right-of-center, non-elite, law-abiding flyover-country middle American with Tea Partyish inclinations … a dish of anger ready to serve up in the wake of a just-barely unsuccessful political assassination attempt this last weekend.

You see, there is a considerable difference between hot fury and cold. Hot fury is impulsive, immediately violent, reactive and more often misplaced. It’s the unthinking destructive fury of the mob, lashing out indiscriminately. Cold fury, on the other hand, does not manifest itself in such spectacular fashion. Cold fury is focused, calculated, unspectacular; it takes its time, waiting for the optimum moment. Cold fury usually can’t be appeased, once unleashed. As I wrote some time ago, regarding the San Francisco Committee of Vigilance

“The image of a “vigilante” most usually implies a disorganized mob; lawless, mindlessly violent, easily steered but ultimately uncontrollable. The Vigilance Committee was something much, much worse than that. They were organized, they were in earnest, they would not compromise – and they would not back down.”

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The Tar-Baby

Never mind the currently-fashionable bit of wokery in the link explaining this reference, bolting on a vague accusation of racism (or raaaaacism) onto anything that a person of pallor says, does, or references – the metaphor of something nasty sticking harder and more firmly no matter how one tries to fight it off and disengage is curiously valid in the case of Joe Biden and the National Establishment Press.

The realization that Mr. Biden is a couple of sandwiches short of a full picnic comes as a horrible shocker … to practically no sane, non-partisan observer of the political scene for the past … I don’t know, decade? Two decades or more? But everyone else is shocked, horrified, discomfited! Until two weeks ago, he was almost universally painted by the National Establishment Press as the Sage of Scranton, honored and revered solon of the Senate, the experienced and steadying VP in the Obama Administration, a kindly and revered family man, beloved by all! (Or at least, somewhat better than that awful, bad, Orange Man!) Unthinkable, asking a blunt and unscreened question of the Incredible Talking Mop, Karine Jean-Pierre, at a White House press conference about Mr. Biden’s disintegrating mental facilities! The very notion – so rude, unprofessional, so very, very Deplorable!

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