Gaddafi regime ‘not attending London Olympics’


by Mario Huet

I’m sure there will be plenty of bloodstained butchers in attendance, fawned upon and traded with by our own obsequious bunch of irredeemable warmongers.  It may sound bad, but I have more respect for the former:  at least they have some experience of getting their *own* hands bloody, rather than having all the torturing and murdering done by proxy and hiding behind the collective irresponsibility of ‘peacekeeping’ organisations.  For the most part brutal tyrants confine their evils to their own countries, whereas our ‘decent’ politicians spend much of their time interfering in countries that are thousands of miles away, that they know bugger-all about, and that are neither their moral nor their official concern.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-13777148

Acid House Parties Against the Lifestyle Police and the Safety Nazis


David Davis

I was alerted to this by Brian Micklethwait writing on Samizdata just now. Guido was a great writer of tracts long before scumbags like Damian McBride and Derek Draper were out of their pre-Enemy-Class-nappies, so to speak.

Probably Gordon Brown could not organise an Acid House Party even if he tried.

Brian “gets” the importance of what Guido has done, more than probably any other blogger at this time – to say nothing of the MSM. He also helps us understand that Guido is not “nihilist” or “right wing” – certainly not that latter calumny for sure! The Enemy Class just can’t yet understand what it means to be “anti-politics” – which is to say, “against the destruction of proper discursive politics conducted in a Classical liberal tradition.

There would never probably have been an “anti-politics” front in “politics”, if politicians had not set out on the gramsco-FabiaNazi road they have latterly, in the last 120-odd-years, taken.

Nightjack is shutting shop, but there’s still lots to say


David Davis

There are, some say, 130 million blogs. I have no idea, and it doesn’t matter really, for 129,900,000 are read by one person a day, and you can guess who. I don’t even bother with “David Davis” and “Ordure! Ordure!” – not yet anyway, for I write nothing there at this time, being busy enough with this one. (We do try to think about what to write, you know.)

But via The Landed Underclass, our primary eyes and ears in the foremast director position, for he spends much time there, and from whom we learned first I think about Nightjack. Nightjack states that he now has said everything he thinks he ought to, and has other plans, such as a book which is fair enough – he does have a job to hold down too.

Says Nightjack:-

It is still fun but  I have now written  down everything that I think is worth me writing. In some areas I am conscious that I am starting to repeat myself.  If I keep on going I believe that I will end up spending the next year or so attack blogging the government rather than blogging about policing.  I don’t want to be all about that. There are plenty of other people doing that better already.

But, attack-blogging the government will provide everyone who wants to, and more besides, with more than enough material, almost for ever….sadly. In an ideal world, none of us liberal blggers would need to do what we do: we could become rich instead by selling things people want to buy, such as electricity, burgers deep-fried in goose-fat, tungsten, cars, steel, space-rockets, cigarettes, and sex. Furthermore, if we do not attack-blog the government, stridently, enthusiastically and with relentless ferocity, then it and lookers-on will start to think that it is winning, and we are losing heart.

Governments know, with perfect clarity, what they are doing, and they are doing it all, without exception, on purpose. They are composed of GramscoFabiaNazis, which is the sort of person who wants to be a GoverNazi – and that’s it, just it.  And thus everything is pre-planned and pre-agreed by them, from the first places where they meet each other: for these are astonishingly bright people we are up against, and not only that, but they have been to the finest education establishments you can buy, and have met each other and have been Eagletonized, and vulcanised, to (jack)boot (sorry.).  

For example, there was no “mistake” or “oversight”, or “error”, on the part of the husband of “Jacqui” “Smith”, a “Bair Babe”,  in claiming for whatever passed as “pornography”: it was claimed for deliberately, to check if it would get through, so that other MPs would know thereafter that they could do it also, and that this sort of expense would pass. There is no other reason – as the bugger is the Home Secretary, and his wife the “Bair Babe” sits in Parliament and does his wishes, this must have been the plan.

Nightjack’s loss to us in The Line is sad: his perspective as a proper Serving Police Officer was useful and illuminating, but his ceasing to write will not be a disaster. Others will come. But if you have any favourite Nightjack posts, I guess you’d better copy-paste them down to your Type Writing Machine as soon as you can, for as he says, his blog will self-destruct in not many days, as they do.

Electronic search terms;

Babes; Blair; parliament; guy fawkes; police; right to roam; farming; common fisheries policy; silver iodide; rain; acid; road access; education;

Mexico coming undone at the seams: why ALL drugs should be legalised absolutely everywhere.


David Davis

We stand aghast, at the possibility of “military intervention by the USA” against – of all places – Mexico. We know that, since “drugs” are grown in Latin America, and since Mexico is in the way of their transfer to “Film Stars” and wannabes in British North America, where these things are officially illegal to have or trade, that therefore mexico will be on the road of transfer.

This is all very well and ought not to matter. Cars and lorries carrying cocaine and other stuff whose names I can’t remember ought to be able to cross Mexico as though it was anywhere. The problem arises because – and only because –  it is locally illegal to have, sell or use these substances, in the points of destination.

This has several effects:-

(1) It makes the substances themselves more desirable in the eyes of certain people. They will want it more because “The State” says they shouldn’t have any at all at all at all, for their own good at all at all at all .   Nsty useless Hollywood delinquents film stars will leak details of their use of it, and because they are pretty and shaggable (and that’s just the men) you will want to do it too, as you are sheeple because the liberals Stalinists have told you to become so.

(2) It makes it risky and unprofitable and demoralising, for legitimate businesses to supply the stuff. If you wozz an off-licence, would YOU want to supply cocaine to any willing buyer, if you got raided every week by the rozzers for doing it, and had your shop smashed up by them (rozzers) and were put in jug?

(3) It makes the risks of supplying it worthwhile, for shysters and hoods, who don’t mind having to shoulder the boring business of killing people including police and soldiers, in the course of securing their hold on the distribution of of their stuff, to you. The £5-a-day habit, if the stuff was legally sold through chemists even including the impost of State Taxation, becomes the £100-a-day habit if you have to buy it through hoods who have to insure themselves – at your cost –  for their own risk against both the State and against other hoods who want to compete, for what is really a rather small niche sector.

(4) it makes jobs for Police rozzers. Rozzers are inherently tormented people, who ought not to have got like that; they need psychiatric help, and quickly.  Just as you ought not to want to be a criminal, also you ought not to want to be a policeman in the 21st century: what does that desire say about you, and your morals, and world-view, as a person?

So the way forward is quite clear. ALL drugs have to be legalised, in all jurisdictions, preferably by yesterday. This will have a number of good effects:-

(1A) The “Police”, currently a pantomime collection of gamma-minus droids unfortunately increasingly supplied with real guns as opposed to things that shoot out a flag which says “bang”, and who are “employed” by their “states”  not in chasing real muggers, robbers, burglars and killers but in harrassing “drug dealers”, “motorists”, “paedophiles”, “racists”, “terrorists”, “non-payers of council tax”, “TV-license-evaders” and “climate-change-deniers”, will find that their workload is decreased alarmingly. We will “need” fewer of them. Good.

The main solution to civilisation’s ills is

fewer Laws,

and more and better people.

There may even be “calls for” “FEWER POLICE ON THE STREETS”. I think that in a civilised society, the police ought to be invisible: see poll below.

(2A) The use of “drugs”, which is to say substances currently classified as drugs”, by all people, will fall dramatically. or it may not: I do not know. But I think it will fall.

(3A) The legalisation of “drugs” will mean that Galxo-Smith-Klein, Schering-Plough, Ciba-Geigy, and all the others, will be abot to compete legally for whatever market they think they can get. Adverttisisng will be allowed. Advertising is the best way to garotte bad stuff fast. The purity and quality of products will thus rise, and the price will fall to the point where the “State” will come in.

(4A) The “State” will take a take. Where GSK wants to sell you your Ecstasy for 50p a go, via the chemist down the road in Shaky-street (PR8  . . . ) , the State will take £4 or so, making it about the price of 20 fags. What’s the point of going and doing crime, if it’s only that much? You can get it from your dosh you that get “on the sick”.

OK so the “State” wins, win-win in the short run. But it’s got to justify how it needs to spend so much less on policing, since there’s so much much less less petty crime going on down.

That in itself will be tremendous fun to watch.

Lefty “anti-racist” bastards are at it again…this time they’re lynching Prince Charles.


Don’t get me wrong, for I hold no brief for poor tormented Prince Charles. He talks to his plants: he refers to nanomachines as “grey goo”: he supports the thesis of anthropogenic climate change…..I could go on. Superficially he is not really a mentally tough enough person to be a constitutional Head of State, where the prime libertarian responsibilities of such a man ought to be to take the side of the people, and rip down the enlarging police-apparatus being built behind his and our backs.

On this blog and elsewhere, I have been regularly got at by people who don’t think a British-style constitutional Monarchy is needed if we are to move towards a libertarian or minimal state – if that idea is not an oxymoron. But I think something like what we have got would be the best interim defence against violent reactionary leftist statist forces – and they WILL be violent, just watch – while we undertake the libertarianisation of public life in any society which is fortunate enough to have our services in this task.

This is probably why the “Royals” are coming increasingly under attack. What you have to do each day is see what the lefties are assaulting right now, and decide to do exactly the opposite of what they say.

David Davis

But not content with hauling Prince Harry over the coals (their phrase) “Give Racism the Red Card”, described as a “charity” (I bet it’s a state-funded quango in reality – in fact it’s the PR wing of the British Council! How could I have not guessed!) has a go at Charles: why?  Because the affectionate pet-name for one of his oldest friends, a 58-year-old Indian property developer, near neighbour and fellow-Polo-player, is “sooty”.

Ah, I remember Sooty! I wonder, if Sooty (the Indian property magnate, not the teddy bear) has a wife? If she was called “Sweep” in private by Charles and Camilla, because she had long hair or floppy ears, would the News of the World investigate in the public interest, and would the (anti) British Council object? I think we ought to be told!

Here’s a googlesearch on “Give Racism The Red Card“.

We did the Harry thing a couple of days ago.

The left laments its lack of “big” or interesting blogs. (it has just launched “labourlist“…..really catchy title isn’t it…..same old dreary stuff – Tory cuts etc etc etc) This is a classic manifestation of why they’re aren’t many, and why reading what’s there is like chewing unsalted sawdust and rat-droppings – unlike Guido for example, or The Remittance Man. The left, and most illuminatingly the British left, who whine and lament the most, are all humourless totalitarian thought-controlling bastards and c***s; consequently, nobody wants to listen to their whingeings or read their dour drivel. Ordinary humans without dangerous leftist brain-disorders have all got better things to do. (This of course leaves the more midly-mentally-tormented of us, who hold quite opposite views to the fascist left, to blog about them, irrittaing them even more.)

Either this new series of attacks on the Princes is a publicity stunt by the left to get attention, or more sinisterly they really mean it and are gearing up to destroy even more Free Institutions.

Just go read this drivel, it’s soooooooooooo wonderfully replete with all the leftist clichés.

BBC: Oh, really? And which poor sad junior will be blamed?


David Davis

BBC “admits serious lapse” (of sanity or judgement I presume?) over Ross/Brand affair.

Perhaps the BBC is just another socialist-sausage-machine: it takes money from the terrified bourgeoisie, who are afraid of being prosecuted and destroyed as a result, uses it to fund pornography, such as people saying “f***” on live television, and then gives the product to the socialist-state-clientariat, for nothing (as it will not prosecute them for “watching without paying”.) If they do…. They probably do (watch without paying, a lot of them.

Who cares?

In a libertarian society, I fully expect that there’d be TV channels where you oculd say “f***” on live television. But you’d have to pay for them. I expect. They would not be especially mass-market. This is just not what Anglosphere people want to do or see. We are moral and liberal. (I DID say “liberal” yes.)

In return, nobody would force you to do so. No “detector vans” would come round, to pretend to see if your telly was saying “f***” without having paid the channel that transmits “f***”. All that the State would have to do (and not even that really) was to supply Courts which would discover if your telly had said “f***” without your having paid for it to do so.

The whole thing, as Auberon Waugh would have discovered long ago, is just an intellectual-property problem. If the monies collected by the BBC were regarded as collected by force, whether you used the service or not, then it was just stealing and doing robbery. If not, and it was regarded as consensual, just to fund sort of journalists and machines and stuff, then it could transmit, but could not also then charge you as well for receiving. Also it could not legally know who was receiving.

The corollary of this is the death penalty exacted by the Nazis for “receiving foreign broadcasts” or “having prohibited receivers”.

I think we all ought to start cutting off our BBC direct debits. Let’s see what happens.

Let’s call their bluff. I’m going to cancel our DD now, and see what happens.

O, Horrid Olympics!


Sean Gabb

http://www.seangabb.co.uk/flcomm/flc044.htm
Free Life Commentary
,
an independent journal of comment

published on the Internet
Issue Number 44
20th September 2000

On Watching the Olympic Games on Television
Sean Gabb

As we have just bought a new widescreen set, Mrs Gabb and I are watching more than usual on the television. In particular, we have been sitting up late to watch the Olympic Games now being held in Sydney. As it is the sport we both enjoy doing, we have mostly watched the swimming.

I cannot say I am impressed. I can appreciate how fast the swimmers move though the water. But what strikes me most about them is their great ugliness. Many of them have taken to wearing rubber suits, and these, by presenting an undifferentiated surface to the viewer, draw attention to the shape of their bodies. The women have unattractively large thighs and very small breasts, but otherwise are fairly womanly. The men, however, look barely human. They have enormously wide shoulders and even more enormous feet. One of the swimmers—an Australian youth whose name escapes me—has size 17 feet. He looks like a circus clown with them, but seems happy enough, since they help him to swim faster than all the other competitors.

This is what the “Olympic Ideal” has come to mean—not the cultivation of athletic grace, but the mere breaking of records. By the 1960s, the records had been set as high as any normal athlete could manage, and so those who wanted to continue breaking them had to take drugs to enhance their performance. I think it was the Soviets who really began this, in their efforts to prove that socialism created a faster, stronger human being; and by the 1970s, their team trainers had become little better than pharmacists with a talent for knowing where to hide needle scars from the drug inspectors. But, once started, the drug race had to be taken up by anyone else who wanted not to be beaten off the field. 

Today, this race is growing too risky to maintain. Drugs continue to be taken, but sophisticated testing and routine invasions of personal dignity are disqualifying too many athletes. And so the search is on for natural freaks—those for whom we might normally feel pity, but whose deformity can with training be turned to advantage in the competition for medals.

This is, however, likely to be only a transitory resort. As very few people are born with size 17 feet, or legs four foot long, or whatever, I am sure that genetic engineering will soon be called in to supplement the work of nature. The champion swimmers of 2048 will probably be seven foot tall, have pointed heads, vestigial sexual organs—or, in the case of women, no breasts—double jointed knees, and webbed flippers instead of feet. They will need to be carried to and from the pool, and may not live much beyond the age of thirty. I have no doubt their trainers will swear themselves blind that these variations from the norm are entirely fortuitous, nor any doubt that the television commentators from the countries where they were manufactured will shout themselves ecstatic whenever one of them swims half a mile in less than thirty seconds.

In my younger days, I always wanted to look like a swimmer. Though I occasionally tried for the ideal, I never achieved it, and am now a person of considerable size. Looking at those freakish young men on television the other evening, and thinking forward to the likely horrors of the coming century, I am almost reconciled to being fat.

The Greeks, of course, managed their Olympic Games with more sense. The ancient cycle of Olympiads ran from 776 BC—at least, that is when the earliest records of victors begin—to 393 AD, when Theodosius I suppressed all pagan rites within the Roman Empire. During this time, the Games were held for five or six days every fourth July at Olympia in central Greece. As might be expected, the Greeks had none of the chivalrous spirit that became fashionable in the English athletics of the Victorian age; and the thousand years of their Olympic Games are swelled with scandal. According to Pausanius, who wrote about the sites of mainland Greece in the second century, the first known bribe was given at the Games of 384 BC by Eupalus of Thessaly, and the last I know of was given by Sarapmmon of Arsinoites at the Games of 127 AD. Between these dates, the custom emerged of forcing athletes caught cheating to dedicate a statue to Zeus; and Pausanius describes many of these. Otherwise, there was cowardice: Sarapion, an Alexandrian wrestler, took fright and ran away from his opponent at the Games of 27 AD. There was cross-dressing, as when one Callipateira dressed as a trainer to get a closer watch as her son competed in the Games. Her sex was discovered by accident, and though she was not punished, the judged ordered that the trainers should go about in future as naked as the athletes. And there was sordid or bizarre behaviour among the non-competitors, as when the philosopher Peregrinus burned himself to death at the Games of 167 AD.

Even so, the Greeks always acted in the best possible taste. Their Olympic stadium was a work of the most beautiful architecture, They set up statues of their Olympic champions that are among the greatest works of art ever created, and commissioned odes to them by poets such as Pindar and Bacchylides and Simonides. Above all, they never thought to measure the performance of their champions.

Though they lacked the obsession with measurement of time and space that lies at the heart of our civilisation, the Greeks did appreciate the value of accurate measurement. Eratosthenes, for example, used simple geometry to measure the circumference of the Earth—he noted that at noon on a certain day, the sun shone directly overhead at Syene, but cast a shadow in Alexandria; and measuring the angle of the shadow, projected two lines downward to a deduced angle at the centre of the Earth, thereby finding what fraction of the whole circle was the arc that lay between the two cities. This achievement, for all its abstract genius, rested on his ability to measure the 500 mile distance between Alexandria and Syene. Again, Archimedes was able to calculate the fineness of gold in a crown by comparing its weight with the volume of water it displaced. The Greeks had the tools to measure distance and clocks to measure time as accurately as any of us still need for our every day purposes; and they had the scientific curiosity to use these. But they never, so far as I know, used them to measure sporting achievement.

I do not know who was the first non-mythical Olympic champion recorded. But the last one was an Armenian called Varastad. They all had their olive crowns and—so far as the arts of their times allowed—their odes and statues. We can still admire the Disc Thrower sculpted by Myron and Eniochos the Charioteer from Delphi, and even base gloomy thoughts on the possible life and times of Varastad. But we have no idea how fast they were. The achievements of one Olympiad were celebrated—but, being unmeasured, could not be compared with the achievements of any other. The judges at the ancient Games would probably have been shocked at the thought of fawning on some deformed creature because he had shaved nine 32nds of a second off a speed record set six months earlier and that would be broken three weeks later by three 64ths of a second. The olive crown went to the best of those competing at the time, and that victory was the only one that mattered. The competitors were expected to be graceful and well-proportioned. That is, they were expected to look like the people I used to want to look like myself—and, to be honest, still do hopelessly want to. No one with size 17 feet would have been suffered to enter the ancient Games, and most of the athletes who now win medals for running would have been pelted off the racetrack for their ugliness.

I have read much nonsense about the ancient Games—usually written by people whose words were about sweetness and light but whose thoughts were wholly and obviously about boys exercising naked in the sunlight. The Greeks were a strange people, and if the games they watched never matched the horror of what the Romans enjoyed, their Olympics were frequently brutal and corrupt. But they did have the humanity never to inflict on their athletes what we do on ours.

So here is an issue of Free Life Commentary that has not once mentioned Tony Blair or the Conservative Party or the New World Order. But, as ever, it does end with a lament on the degeneracy of the times in which we live. O saeclum insapiens et infacetum!