Last night I watched my first party election broadcast of the season and it was a stormer.
Yes, it was the BNP. You can watch it here. For I shall be flogged naked through the streets of Nuneaton with a bull’s pizzle before I embed that shite. It’s almost unfiskable.
The photo of Churchill, the opening with an effing air-raid siren, the inevitable Spitfire and the swelling Elgar in the background… God Almighty it was worse than I thought possible and my expectations for a BNP broadcast scuttle through abysmal trenches upon ragged claws.
Let’s look at some home truths. Brave British soldiers brought back from the ‘stan in pine… Does Mr Griffin appreciate quite how many of those soldiers are from the Commonwealth or how many of those are in fact black or brown. Come on Mr Griffin! What would you do with the Grenadan L/Cpl Johnson Beharry VC?
Beharry is the first recipient of the Victoria Cross since the posthumous awards to Lieutenant Colonel H. Jones and Sergeant Ian John McKay for service in the Falklands War in 1982. He is the first living recipient of the VC since Keith Payne and Rayene Stewart Simpson, both Australian, for actions in Vietnam in 1969, and the first living recipient of the VC in the British Army since Rambahadur Limbu, a Gurkha, in the Indonesia-Malaysia confrontation in 1965. He is one of only seven living recipients of the VC, and the youngest.
From Wikipedia. Seems our war heroes are sometimes a bit foreign doesn’t it?
Or Spitfires… How about this then…
The Royal Air Force roll of honour for the Battle of Britain recognises 595 non-British pilots (out of 2,936) as flying at least one authorised operational sortie with an eligible unit of the RAF or Fleet Air Arm between 10 July and 31 October 1940. These included 145 Poles, 127 New Zealanders, 112 Canadians, 88 Czechoslovaks, 28 Belgians, 32 Australians, 25 South Africans, 13 French, 10 Irish, 7 Americans, and one each from Jamaica, the British Mandate of Palestine, and Southern Rhodesia.
Yes, it was our finest hour. But “our” is a little elastic is it not? Let us not talk falsely now for the hour is getting towards dinner but just Google ‘Adolph “Sailor” Malan’ (South African) or ‘Keith Park’ (New Zealand). The Battle of Britain was an epic macro-histrorical struggle for freedom and we were not alone. And that’s just aircrew. We imported a heck of a lot more ground-staff from the Commonwealth and Empire and they endured appalling conditions. Working round the clock to keep the fighters in trim is a tough call at the best of times. Doing that whilst being bombed is much tougher than anything either me or Mr Griffin has ever done. NB due to US neutrality I suspect quite a few of the “Canadians” were Americans and the number of Irish is low because distinguishing British and Irish nationality is tricky now and it must have been very tricky in 1940. Indeed the highest scoring “British” ace of all time was Edward “Mick” Mannock. The most remarkable thing about Mannock was not that he was Irish but that he was blind in one eye yet managed 80 kills. Nick Griffin is also blind in one eye but unlike Mannock I wouldn’t trust him to swat a fly.
I have this blog and I shall not sit idly when jackasses like Griffin tell lies about “our war heroes”. Yes they are our “heroes” but the “our” there is all of us or at least everyone of us who believes in freedom and finds those grainy images of Spitfires being yanked out yet again (the last time I got a leaflet from the BNP the Spitfire was clearly a Polish one – epic fail) to justify a quite frankly National Socialist agenda is an afront to the very souls of the free peoples of this world.
Griffin, you are a jerk. You are a profoundly arseholing virtuoso upon Shatner’s rusty bassoon. You are are in short an utter cunt and a twatulating fuckmonger of a twice buggerdly arse-radished turd-pole of an excuse for a set of monkey’s tits.
Oh, and Nicky G. If you want to debate the history of military aviation with someone who actually knows the subject then feel free to drop in any time.
And if any reader feels Griffin has a point they can fuck off too. I’d rather be French than see that turdulation of a fuck-poling twatter even claim to represent my country. French I tells ya! And we all know what they’re like. Or at least Nick Griffin does. He does you know. He knows all about Johnnie Foreigner so you don’t have to.
Except of course I am English and I am aware that this country is great because it is open and always has been. This is where the Danes fought with the Saxons and mixed their blood (a reference to the Argentinian Anglophile, Borges), this country gave refuge to the Huguenots, and the Asians from Uganda when Idi Amin went a little Idi Amin. This is England and this is my England and not Nick Griffin’s. I’m half Irish and have a jupitron which almost certainly means significant Scandy in me. Most of my extended family are mixed race. Oddly enough that is down to my Great Uncle Harry and a girl he met whilst stationed in India in the 1940s with the RAF – yes, Mr Griffin, he married a WAAF who was “slightly coffee coloured”* so you can really fuck off with the “finest hour schtick”. They were married in a Church of England Service in Calcutta Cathedral. She was well in the bun club but… It was love.
Oh, I have sworn in this post. But… love! Is that not more important than “racial realism”? And shall we not end on a positive note?
PS – I’m not alone.
*Well that’s what he telegrammed his Dad back in County Durham. His Dad upon meeting his son’s new bride said, “Damn strong coffee, Harry” and then said no more about it.