September 10, 2016
London, Saturday 3rd September 2016
‘’Brexit might not mean Brexit … the people should be invited to change their minds.’’ -Tony Blair
The above quote is very similar to something I once heard from a drunken Jewish student at London University in the early 1990’s, who proceeded in a very loud voice to address, despite the desperate efforts of his friends to shut him up, the whole clientèle of a West End wine bar, ‘’Democracy is ok (hic) so long as the goys (hic) vote the way we tell them to vote.’’ Truly, ‘In vino veritas’ – ‘In wine there is truth’.
The problem is that we that we don’t always vote the way (((they))) tell us to vote; not always. At least not on the day on Thursday 23rd June 2016, the day of the ‘Leave or Remain Referendum’, and since then views such as that drunken Jewish student and Tony Blair are being voiced far more openly by both puppet masters and puppets alike.
The Government leaflet issued to every household in Britain promised that the Government would implement the will of the majority on this issue. In the end the result was 48% to remain and 52% to leave – and that was despite a huge establishment and media campaign encouraging and threatening us all to remain or to face dire consequences. Ever since the result, our political masters and their paid puppets have been writhing between shock, disbelief and fury – which makes me smile. The possibility that the UK Government might actually fulfil its promise in this matter, (the government fulfilling its promises on any matter whatsoever is as rare as rocking horse manure), is a possibility that has given the powers and their puppets a severe repeat of the same symptoms. And that makes me grin!
On July 2nd 2016, depending whether you believe The Metropolitan Police or the mass media, anywhere between twenty to fifty thousand liberal-leftie, libtie-lefteral types – you know the sort, the sort who know nothing of reality ruthless and raw, red in tooth and claw – led by professional charity monger and ‘self-advertising Jew’ Bob Geldof, marched through central London under the organizational umbrella ‘March for Europe’, and demanded that the British Government, and the political establishment generally, IGNORE the referendum result. No one opposed them.
Jew Bob Geldof marches for Europe
Let me just remind you and reiterate for you, in case you weren’t already aware, what sort of people these ‘remainiac-remoaner‘ ‘March for Europe’ types are. They are the sort who demand that a change to ‘the status quo’ can only be brought about when at least 70% of the population, (not those who actually bother to vote, but the actual population), are in favour of it.
Hmmmm…, I never recall a referendum being called for mass coloured immigration into our lands, neither do I recall one for the abolition of the death penalty, nor the legalisation of homosexuality and abortion, nor for the general degeneration of our society, blimey-oh-riley there wasn’t even one for our entry INTO the European Union. If there had been a referendum on any of these issues, and whatever huge amounts of airtime and money (((they))) had spent on persuading us of the advantages of adopting such changes, there certainly would NOT have been a 70% majority in favour of any of THESE changes to ‘the status quo’. Which, of course, is exactly why we never had such referendums in the first place. Yes, you’ve guessed it, the ‘March for Europe’ supporters are actually marching for a Globalist Neo-Con One-World Slave State, and as a step on the way towards this goal they march for a United States of Europe (which will soon include Turkey, and no doubt eventually Israel and North Africa), and the replacement of the homogenous white population of Europe with a mish-mash multiracial, multicultural one – in effect they desire the replacement of the white race, the displacement of Europeans and the extermination of Europe.
They’d be more aptly labelled ‘March for the Destruction of Europe’. Any fool can see this is the eventual aim, and so too can the puppet masters, and no doubt even some of the cleverer puppets are vaguely aware of it too.
Another such march was arranged by them for Saturday 3rd September – and we decided that this time there would be opposition, and if no one else had the guts to organise it, (the fair weather patriots of the mainstream/UKIP/Eurosceptic organisations tend only to be patriotic when it is safe, respectable and not politically- incorrect to do so), then we would damn well do it ourselves. Defending our people, leading our people – it is what Nationalism is all about, whatever it takes, whatever the cost.
So the message went out ‘Come and jeer Geldof and the Globalists! Meet at the statue of Queen Boadicea, Westminster, 11am, Saturday 3rd September’. An apt choice for an RV for there she stands, spear in hand, on her sword-wheeled battle chariot charging towards the Houses of Parliament urging on her countrymen to attack and destroy that nest of traitors on whom the eyes of her basilisk like fury falls. Fifteen answered the call. It was enough. ‘Multi nemici, multi honore’ – ‘the greater the enemy, the greater the glory’.
We made our way into Whitehall and, while runners were despatched to gather information on the movements of the enemy, we sat in the sun outside a pub and chatted while writing up some placards – the wording of which ranged from the simply strident to the wryly humorous. There are lots of things liberals and lefties hate – but bitter truth sweetened with witty humour drives them simply apoplectic. Shortly after we’d finished the placards, the runners returned and we moved into action, taking up a defensive position behind a low balustrade wall. There was camaraderie and calm – the calm before the storm. A scout shouted out ‘’Get ready! Here they come!’’
Then round the corner hundreds of blue and yellow EU flags appeared and the rumbling sullen cacophony of it was as if all the dark armies of Mordor were approaching. Clutching a Union Jack I leapt onto the wall to get a better look at the approaching swarm, quickly deciding that I was better to stay there standing on the wall, as there wasn’t a better commanding place from which to wave my flag and to encourage the 15 Brexiteers to hurl defiance into the ranks of the enemy.
And then they were upon us. They were led by the infamous transvestite Eddie Izzard the lizard, complete in high heels and pink beret. And stunned by our presence the whole juggernaut ground to a grinding halt just short of us, and rather the way a dog does when he runs smack bang into a glass patio door and falls back on its haunches startled, they gawped and stared at us in silence, while our chants of ‘We want Brexit’ predominated. And then… then they recovered, and it was as if all the demons of hell had been unleashed, for a wail and a cry and a gnashing of teeth went up fit to split the heavens, and all their pent up fury and intolerant hidden hatred was unleashed upon us. A sea of blue surged up and around us and our wall threatening to engulf us, but we held fast while we were bashed with placards, prodded with EU flags and suffered a hail of insults and abuse. Several times I almost slipped from the wall, but my size 10 army regulation drill boots grimly clung on.
A reporter covering the event commented that it was like watching ‘Custer’s Last Stand’ or ‘the Defence of Hougoumont at Waterloo’ (and it felt like it too), and that every succeeding second we survived he was surprised that we hadn’t been swallowed up (and so were we!). However, the Union Jack, although proving to be a lightening conductor for the enemy’s hatred, also proved to be a rallying point for scattered patriots far and wide, many of them just passers-by, or tourists who came to our aid swelling our numbers. Many of these newcomers gasped in awe or laughed at the tantrums of the remainiacs thus driving them into an even greater rage. The panicked policemen struggled to maintain some sort of order in the melee that developed in front of the wall, with even journalists trading blows with each other. It was chaos, it was bedlam, it was pandemonium, but it was fun!
I kept up a constant refrain of shouting ‘Braveheart William Wallace style’ above the din ‘’ We want freedom! Freedom from the EU! Freedom!”, which somehow, like an incantation, drove the enemy into a frothing frenzy. As each of the marchers (liberals and leftists don’t march they amble, they mince), came level they’d slow and each send us their own personal 5 minutes of gutter-level hate, all eagerly photographed by the world’s press, and eagerly too lapped up by us and batted back to them with good natured wise-cracking banter. Strangely, several of the Remainiac females bizarrely blew kisses at me and made lewd suggestions towards me, possibly this was in an attempt to distract me and dislodge me from the wall, either that, or it really is true that ‘’Every woman adores a fascist’’.
The flustered front of the march had now passed us and was a good way further down the street, when a brave bandanad band of 5 young men ran out into its path and Tiananmen Square style held up a banner proclaiming ‘National Action – Brexit Now!’ The leaders and stewards of the march growled, grabbed the banner and pulled, the patriots pulled back, a scuffle developed, and in the confusion Dave ‘Hammer’ a patriot from West London of Polish extraction with a score to settle with the EU for its destruction of the Polish economy, found himself with Eddie Izzard’s famous pink beret in his hand – sacrilege said the look of the appalled leftists!
The banner was retrieved, Dave ran, the police chased him, he wondered why they were chasing him, he realised it was because he gripped the beret still, the crowd cheered, some cheered for ‘the beret snatcher’, others for the keystone kops in hot pursuit and some for Izzard in his 6 inch high heels who followed closely behind them. Dave ran still, he gripped the beret still, and then, a trip a rugby tackle? And he was down flat on the pavement and before he could move 6 coppers were lying on top of him making sure he stayed down, and 6 more guarding against a rescue attempt. The outrageous outraged Izzard was handed back his beret by a smirking police sergeant, who told him that he could have it back temporarily in order to give his speech to the end of march rally, but that he would have to later surrender it again, as it formed a vital piece of evidence.
Dave was bundled away in a black Mariah van and bailed to appear at Westminster Magistrates Court on Monday 19th September at 09.30 on a charge of ‘theft of one pink beret’. Supporters welcome! One is surely reminded here of Bertie Wooster, in PG Wodehouse’s novel, being summoned to court and being fined £5 for stealing a policeman’s helmet on the night of the Oxford – Cambridge Boat Race, and so we thank Dave for keeping the traditions of PG Wodehouse and ‘Jeeves and Wooster’ alive and well.
Finally after what seemed like hours, the tail end of the infuriated enemy passed us, the policemen breathed a sigh of relief and wearily mopped their brows, and we dusted ourselves down and stood around happily dazed like Cheshire Tom cats after a particularly satisfying scrap, shaking each other’s hands and clapping each other on the back. I gave a speech of thanks to all who supported our stand, a quick interview to Ruptly and then we repaired to a local hostelry to lubricate our now very hoarse vocal chords.
What this day showed was that numbers are not important. What is important is willpower. A few brave patriots with strong willpower, willing to grasp opportunities whenever and wherever offered, can be far more effective and far more than a match for thousands of politically correct morons and all their millions of funding from the banksters.
As a result of all this the nation’s media focussed more on our counter demonstration and the hysterical reaction to it, than on the march itself; but it was the snatching of the pink beret that really caught the nation’s imagination, ridiculing as it did the whole cause of ‘ignoring the Brexit result’, and thus provoking the dismay of traitors, bankers and globalists alike, and euphoric sympathy and hilarity from decent people worldwide. In light of this and to encourage more of the same The London Forum has decided to annually institute ‘The Award of The Pink Beret’ to the activist who carries out the most daring, derring-do and publicity grabbing activity of the year. The winner will receive a trophy with his name inscribed, a pink beret, cash prize of £100 and the goodwill of good people everywhere. And the winner this year will of course be Dave ‘Hammer’.
The Hidden Hand is only powerful so long as its hand remains hidden. The vague realisation is slowly dawning on the British people that their Government might not actually implement Brexit, and that their government might not indeed actually be their government at all. If we leave the EU, the Globalist Power Structure will be dealt a severe blow causing a domino ripple effect. If on the other hand we remain, and this too against the will of the majority of Britons, then The Hand will be hidden no more. And that will make me happy, very happy indeed.
If anyone wishes to help pay off the fine Dave ‘Hammer’ will no doubt receive from the Magistrate for his Wodehousian high jinks, they should in the first instance contact The London Forum at: firstname.lastname@example.org
Coverage of the day
March for Europe – London Forum video
March for Europe – Ruptly – 2hour 6 minute point onwards
March for Europe meets fascist Brexit supporters