London is a gated community, a great big gated, chastity belted JAFFA whore. Venice on the Thames. A base contrivance where pirates, whore masters and slavers slaver over their perversions and swag.
I like the real English, the true yeomen, stout, sturdy independent fellows who know what’s what and who’s a wrong ‘un. However in the main, or on the mane, you will not find many in London these days. The ersatz city.
Yesterday as part of my weekend BOWtime fun, I was taken to Regent’s Park open air theatre to watch the Scottish Play. A friend of a chum was striding the Bard’s boards there and we resolved to rendezvous in The Volunteer afterwards for a swill and a yak. As we trundled round the park I could not help but notice how busy the great big bloated eunuch mechanic had been at bringing in the new hirelings and baby boxes. All breeding away like crazy providing the multilingual skills that the pirate base cannot grow endogenously within its aboriginal population.
If you want to know why the country is broke, then look no further. They were shipped in to the land by the millions and set up cushty like by the generous credits handed over by the One Eyed Trouser Turd. Herds of lawyers to ease their entry, vast Gov. agencies and departments to settle them, huge bureaucracies to pump public funds in their direction, every kind of conjured out of thin air non job to try and alleviate the damage caused in the state schooling system by having it swamped by people who were not interested in anything but free money, swarms of translators and facilitators as the maternity wards burst forth with foreign issues.
Fun whilst the pony show could stagger on, wasn’t it? Every little last one of them having a cosy little cell waiting for each life in the Universal Spreadsheet. A cushioned and pampered cell, unlike the bare walls the aboriginals will get, but a cell never the less.
Endogenous Disingenuous Balls and his monocular boss never quite got round to explaining just what was going down in Groove Town did they? Just what fine shenanigans they were up to deep in the Treasury. I saw the scum sucking loon on the Toffee Box this morning trying, oh so trying, to assure us the Goofy Gove was a total arsebark in a crisp poke.
What ASBO Testicles doesn’t know is that we in this manor can spot the blank slate that is Goofy a mile off. We don’t need any sterile help from the strobing spermatozoon issuing from the Seedless Plums. Oh no. We know, we saw and watched really closely as Candida Cameron went all in camera on us and infected the body politic when he went all Swedish, getting all sweaty and flagellatory, getting us ready for the very, very bad news scripted for us by TPTB and acted out in front of our scared frozen stares by The Cludgeron, The Cable Guy, Thunder Balls et al. A tale scripted long, long ago by a power removed so far, far away from aboriginal daily lives.
Just to divert a while from this tack, which we will navigate back to soon enough, you know that I had some top BOWtime this endwoch. Part of it was spent in the company of assorted Russians. Byelorussian, Ukrainian & Muscovite. It was a top screaming and yelling gig and many more will be had in the future. Whilst swilling I found out a little bit about why they were here in UKplc and a bit about UKplc types who’ve settled out in Mother Russia, a Scots lad in Kerch, a Welsh lad in the Urals. All getting on with the simpler life and having fun away from the 24/7 CCTV STASI dump of the rubble strewn smoking wreckage that used to be UKplc. There are quite a few UKplc blokes out there putting down roots from what I heard.
So the BOWtime continued and amidst the hollering and shouting I had the vicissitudes of SE Ukrainian bus services described to me. Bus services which resembled, much to my fellow swillers’ surprise, as I was informed over ten years ago, the characteristics of certain Dumnonian bus services operated out of Cornwall.
So just as my host cut us over to some highly fragrant Czech spirits I found out why a guy from Minsk was pouring me a large shot of Slavic falling down juice in this the year of Our Lord 2010.
He had been sent over to UKplc well over a decade ago by his employers to the Floating City to liaise with the lads running the money markets and get access to the funny money streams. And so he stayed.
More recently, just like me and mine, he and his have been having a good hard stare over the past couple of years at what exactly passes for education in the disaster zone that surrounds the Floating City. The utter waste of time and resources that is the so called criterion for acceptance in the so called state sector. A process that is designed to hide away a dirty little secret in the deepest recesses of education provision here in the wastelands. The exclusion of the aboriginals process. A process targeted at the aboriginals, a secret protocol designed to keep British children out of the “good” schools.
How do I know?
My eyes do not deceive me. Just stand outside the school gates of the “good” schools and do a head count. You will quickly arrive at the inescapable conclusion that the aboriginals are massively under represented.
In fact I am of the opinion that these magic circle schools are institutionally racist.
That is indirect evidence.
Direct evidence comes via the quixotic and damned right weird network of friends and acquaintances I have accreted here in my time in the Big Smoke. I shall illustrate the process that is going on hidden under the surface by example.
Let us assume you are a typical aboriginal seeking to place the ankle biter in a local school. You know what is what now since you’ve yakked to other parents at children’s birthday parties over the previous few years so you’ve suddenly become all pious and started attending local church services. So the local places of worship are packed with the Heathen and Pagans on a Sunday and special feast days. You’ve also made sure that you bought a property parked right inside the chosen schools reception area, a tad keen I know but you have your heart set on it, and have taken an unhealthily close interest in the PTA. You’ve made sure the ankle biter has killed off any possible rivals to get into the chosen school’s kindergarten/preschool by dishing out Strontium laced rusks and nitro-glycerine doped dummies.
The plan cannot fail, the forms are signed and the local shaman has signed on the line saying that his church was indeed stacked to the rafters with The Heathen and Pagans for years before and you were one of them.
You’ve done your homework it is a shoe in. You have assassinated all rivals, you have gone all religious in a, now obviously Heathen place of ritual, you live in the school itself and the PTA thinks you are top banana.
Let me take you to another place and show you how the plan is designed to fail, that you are at the mercy of hidden forces and that the whole dynamic is designed to incarcerate the aboriginal children in sink schools. A process designed to keep the “good” schools free of the pollution of aboriginal children and their desire for a good basic state education. The magic circle of schools is institutionally designed on racist tenets. You don’t know that the system is designed to special need and diversify the basic education out of existence by having translators and English as a second language tutors crawling all over the state apparatus.
Let us make ourselves stone worshippers. Oh yes, lovely. There are stone worshippers all over the world. I personally enjoy a good monolith from time to time. However these particular stone worshippers of ours are very special. They are special because the head of the stone worshippers’ household is being shipped overseas, with family, by his employer and there is a long standing process that makes sure the guys finding them accommodation for the 3-4 year stay in the Big Smoke will ensure they are staying within the area of the Magic Circle.
So the family arrive in their lovely detached hovel, with sun dappled garden stretching out the back. Waitrose just up the road and the good tube line nearby to get into the Floating City pronto.
Do they pitch up first weekend at church? Do they fuck. They are Shinto; they’ve got morals and ethics. They’d not sully themselves in one of the places. And anyway they know the dumps are full of The Heathen and their evil broods, Pagans and their lunar calendar derived ankle biters and blokes in frocks. Fuck knows what sort of evil fluencies emanates from those places every Sunday and feast day. They truly are Engines of Satan.
Of course the stone worshippers won’t be getting on their knees. Their employer will have had people sort it all out. They vacancy lists from the church schools will be managed by their people, the same people who let the property to the family’s employer, so first day in town and the stone worshippers will wander straight in to the local church school to a guaranteed place.
Now that means they’ve walked straight past you as you are living in the school lobby just as you are preparing your ankle biter for school miles away where the pimps and drug dealers are waiting.
Are you getting the message yet?
Someone is, has and will continue, to make a mint from the farce that is church school provision up here in the magic circle. The schools are essentially run by the estate agents who ship in well healed non Christians and stick them in the Christian schools. Sweet.
Oh and the sting in the tail? The “good” schools are breeding grounds for incompetent teaching staff, sojourning rent seekers of tutelage, and because the type of parent in these schools tutors the poor fecker in the womb after some top industrial strength shagging in the phase of the moon around October/November time to ensure a young child in the yearly intake to make competition more favourable to them when secondary school heaves into view, no one ever finds out about the crap teaching.
Well if we’ve got the message just what the fuck were those satanic fuckwitz doing at the Ministry of Truth and Indoctrination with the New School build programme and the academies? Go on then Wonder Nuts, what were you schmokin’?
Well the game was given away when Candida came back all erect nipples and skipping along after he’d seen the Swedish model of education a couple of years back. That was when the true programme, the hidden agenda revealed itself.
Put simply Candida wants the state schools handed over to anyone that will take them. We the people are too poor to organise a decent education system because all the money was stolen. So the bright idea is that if you or me can jump through some simple hoops we can set up a school that will knock some sense into our weans and ditch the multikultimoonyscientologydivesrsitybollox.
No fucking way.
What is going to happen is this.
Foundation money, think Wahabiist, is going to be given the best schools, i.e. the new ones we paid for, without a by your leave. They’ll get these brand spanking new schools for nothing. The under the guise of Faith restrict entry and stock them full of brain washed theists of the Afflicted variety.
Just watch. I can see it here in Barnet. One primary school in particular has had shed loads of money shoved at it over many, many years. SEN this, SEN that, translators this and translators that. ESOL this and ESOL that. Fuck me. It is a prime candidate.
The really down side is the aboriginals will get nothing.
If you know what’s what here in Barnet one secondary that needs a good gutting has been told to go and fuck itself by Goofy Gove this past week.
That’s why it took so long for so many of these decisions to be made, stalling and preparing the ground so that the correct schools with the money piling in for SEN were ready to be handed over to the new masters when Balls & co. blew the economy and the treasury to plan.
The aboriginals are not wanted, what can they offer to the Heathen worshipping in their Temples in the Floating City?
FUCKTARDS.
I like the real English, the true yeomen, stout, sturdy independent fellows who know what’s what and who’s a wrong ‘un. However in the main, or on the mane, you will not find many in London these days. The ersatz city.
Yesterday as part of my weekend BOWtime fun, I was taken to Regent’s Park open air theatre to watch the Scottish Play. A friend of a chum was striding the Bard’s boards there and we resolved to rendezvous in The Volunteer afterwards for a swill and a yak. As we trundled round the park I could not help but notice how busy the great big bloated eunuch mechanic had been at bringing in the new hirelings and baby boxes. All breeding away like crazy providing the multilingual skills that the pirate base cannot grow endogenously within its aboriginal population.
If you want to know why the country is broke, then look no further. They were shipped in to the land by the millions and set up cushty like by the generous credits handed over by the One Eyed Trouser Turd. Herds of lawyers to ease their entry, vast Gov. agencies and departments to settle them, huge bureaucracies to pump public funds in their direction, every kind of conjured out of thin air non job to try and alleviate the damage caused in the state schooling system by having it swamped by people who were not interested in anything but free money, swarms of translators and facilitators as the maternity wards burst forth with foreign issues.
Fun whilst the pony show could stagger on, wasn’t it? Every little last one of them having a cosy little cell waiting for each life in the Universal Spreadsheet. A cushioned and pampered cell, unlike the bare walls the aboriginals will get, but a cell never the less.
Endogenous Disingenuous Balls and his monocular boss never quite got round to explaining just what was going down in Groove Town did they? Just what fine shenanigans they were up to deep in the Treasury. I saw the scum sucking loon on the Toffee Box this morning trying, oh so trying, to assure us the Goofy Gove was a total arsebark in a crisp poke.
What ASBO Testicles doesn’t know is that we in this manor can spot the blank slate that is Goofy a mile off. We don’t need any sterile help from the strobing spermatozoon issuing from the Seedless Plums. Oh no. We know, we saw and watched really closely as Candida Cameron went all in camera on us and infected the body politic when he went all Swedish, getting all sweaty and flagellatory, getting us ready for the very, very bad news scripted for us by TPTB and acted out in front of our scared frozen stares by The Cludgeron, The Cable Guy, Thunder Balls et al. A tale scripted long, long ago by a power removed so far, far away from aboriginal daily lives.
Just to divert a while from this tack, which we will navigate back to soon enough, you know that I had some top BOWtime this endwoch. Part of it was spent in the company of assorted Russians. Byelorussian, Ukrainian & Muscovite. It was a top screaming and yelling gig and many more will be had in the future. Whilst swilling I found out a little bit about why they were here in UKplc and a bit about UKplc types who’ve settled out in Mother Russia, a Scots lad in Kerch, a Welsh lad in the Urals. All getting on with the simpler life and having fun away from the 24/7 CCTV STASI dump of the rubble strewn smoking wreckage that used to be UKplc. There are quite a few UKplc blokes out there putting down roots from what I heard.
So the BOWtime continued and amidst the hollering and shouting I had the vicissitudes of SE Ukrainian bus services described to me. Bus services which resembled, much to my fellow swillers’ surprise, as I was informed over ten years ago, the characteristics of certain Dumnonian bus services operated out of Cornwall.
So just as my host cut us over to some highly fragrant Czech spirits I found out why a guy from Minsk was pouring me a large shot of Slavic falling down juice in this the year of Our Lord 2010.
He had been sent over to UKplc well over a decade ago by his employers to the Floating City to liaise with the lads running the money markets and get access to the funny money streams. And so he stayed.
More recently, just like me and mine, he and his have been having a good hard stare over the past couple of years at what exactly passes for education in the disaster zone that surrounds the Floating City. The utter waste of time and resources that is the so called criterion for acceptance in the so called state sector. A process that is designed to hide away a dirty little secret in the deepest recesses of education provision here in the wastelands. The exclusion of the aboriginals process. A process targeted at the aboriginals, a secret protocol designed to keep British children out of the “good” schools.
How do I know?
My eyes do not deceive me. Just stand outside the school gates of the “good” schools and do a head count. You will quickly arrive at the inescapable conclusion that the aboriginals are massively under represented.
In fact I am of the opinion that these magic circle schools are institutionally racist.
That is indirect evidence.
Direct evidence comes via the quixotic and damned right weird network of friends and acquaintances I have accreted here in my time in the Big Smoke. I shall illustrate the process that is going on hidden under the surface by example.
Let us assume you are a typical aboriginal seeking to place the ankle biter in a local school. You know what is what now since you’ve yakked to other parents at children’s birthday parties over the previous few years so you’ve suddenly become all pious and started attending local church services. So the local places of worship are packed with the Heathen and Pagans on a Sunday and special feast days. You’ve also made sure that you bought a property parked right inside the chosen schools reception area, a tad keen I know but you have your heart set on it, and have taken an unhealthily close interest in the PTA. You’ve made sure the ankle biter has killed off any possible rivals to get into the chosen school’s kindergarten/preschool by dishing out Strontium laced rusks and nitro-glycerine doped dummies.
The plan cannot fail, the forms are signed and the local shaman has signed on the line saying that his church was indeed stacked to the rafters with The Heathen and Pagans for years before and you were one of them.
You’ve done your homework it is a shoe in. You have assassinated all rivals, you have gone all religious in a, now obviously Heathen place of ritual, you live in the school itself and the PTA thinks you are top banana.
Let me take you to another place and show you how the plan is designed to fail, that you are at the mercy of hidden forces and that the whole dynamic is designed to incarcerate the aboriginal children in sink schools. A process designed to keep the “good” schools free of the pollution of aboriginal children and their desire for a good basic state education. The magic circle of schools is institutionally designed on racist tenets. You don’t know that the system is designed to special need and diversify the basic education out of existence by having translators and English as a second language tutors crawling all over the state apparatus.
Let us make ourselves stone worshippers. Oh yes, lovely. There are stone worshippers all over the world. I personally enjoy a good monolith from time to time. However these particular stone worshippers of ours are very special. They are special because the head of the stone worshippers’ household is being shipped overseas, with family, by his employer and there is a long standing process that makes sure the guys finding them accommodation for the 3-4 year stay in the Big Smoke will ensure they are staying within the area of the Magic Circle.
So the family arrive in their lovely detached hovel, with sun dappled garden stretching out the back. Waitrose just up the road and the good tube line nearby to get into the Floating City pronto.
Do they pitch up first weekend at church? Do they fuck. They are Shinto; they’ve got morals and ethics. They’d not sully themselves in one of the places. And anyway they know the dumps are full of The Heathen and their evil broods, Pagans and their lunar calendar derived ankle biters and blokes in frocks. Fuck knows what sort of evil fluencies emanates from those places every Sunday and feast day. They truly are Engines of Satan.
Of course the stone worshippers won’t be getting on their knees. Their employer will have had people sort it all out. They vacancy lists from the church schools will be managed by their people, the same people who let the property to the family’s employer, so first day in town and the stone worshippers will wander straight in to the local church school to a guaranteed place.
Now that means they’ve walked straight past you as you are living in the school lobby just as you are preparing your ankle biter for school miles away where the pimps and drug dealers are waiting.
Are you getting the message yet?
Someone is, has and will continue, to make a mint from the farce that is church school provision up here in the magic circle. The schools are essentially run by the estate agents who ship in well healed non Christians and stick them in the Christian schools. Sweet.
Oh and the sting in the tail? The “good” schools are breeding grounds for incompetent teaching staff, sojourning rent seekers of tutelage, and because the type of parent in these schools tutors the poor fecker in the womb after some top industrial strength shagging in the phase of the moon around October/November time to ensure a young child in the yearly intake to make competition more favourable to them when secondary school heaves into view, no one ever finds out about the crap teaching.
Well if we’ve got the message just what the fuck were those satanic fuckwitz doing at the Ministry of Truth and Indoctrination with the New School build programme and the academies? Go on then Wonder Nuts, what were you schmokin’?
Well the game was given away when Candida came back all erect nipples and skipping along after he’d seen the Swedish model of education a couple of years back. That was when the true programme, the hidden agenda revealed itself.
Put simply Candida wants the state schools handed over to anyone that will take them. We the people are too poor to organise a decent education system because all the money was stolen. So the bright idea is that if you or me can jump through some simple hoops we can set up a school that will knock some sense into our weans and ditch the multikultimoonyscientologydivesrsitybollox.
No fucking way.
What is going to happen is this.
Foundation money, think Wahabiist, is going to be given the best schools, i.e. the new ones we paid for, without a by your leave. They’ll get these brand spanking new schools for nothing. The under the guise of Faith restrict entry and stock them full of brain washed theists of the Afflicted variety.
Just watch. I can see it here in Barnet. One primary school in particular has had shed loads of money shoved at it over many, many years. SEN this, SEN that, translators this and translators that. ESOL this and ESOL that. Fuck me. It is a prime candidate.
The really down side is the aboriginals will get nothing.
If you know what’s what here in Barnet one secondary that needs a good gutting has been told to go and fuck itself by Goofy Gove this past week.
That’s why it took so long for so many of these decisions to be made, stalling and preparing the ground so that the correct schools with the money piling in for SEN were ready to be handed over to the new masters when Balls & co. blew the economy and the treasury to plan.
The aboriginals are not wanted, what can they offer to the Heathen worshipping in their Temples in the Floating City?
FUCKTARDS.
