Christmas has arrived again.
That means it’s time to take the Nick Griffin skeleton out of the cupboard for a day.
Here he is, channelling Blofeld, reading the Christmas Story.
It doesn’t quite work, somehow.
Matt Wardman blogs at The Wardman Wire, on media, politics and technology, in addition to writing at the Raccoon Arms. Follow me on Twitter.
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And so it was that Griffin gathered the racist amongst us as the Masons collect the war damaged to their cause, not unlike Fairfax gathered the war broken soldiers from the Dutch war in readiness for the New Model Army on these shores from within the secret societies to face the status quo in Blighty.
Griffin may well upset the sane amongst us, yet as the cuts bite, as the energy costs rise, their are less and less sane people to call your own.
Anger is the aim, race hate is the game as the Masons set up the Muslim communities through the immigrant Afghan mercenaries now in full control of drugs in the North sold by the Muslims.
So we await the new-new model army of damaged vets from the Yugoslavian conflict through Afghanistan and Iraq, to form the militia to combat the perceived threat, but then it will be all change as everyone is an enemy of the state, a trick the same secret societies set fourth in Germany back in the day.
O what a loverly state of mind we have, presented each day by the Coronation-Enders-Xfactor surreal scripts of misery and celebrity delight, yet for the people it is a lesser pain than their own and so the script of the TV becomes their life, sod the real world they have all left for the soap opera heaven in pyjamas and slipper and a little bit of grape.
What hope for the new year…? Nick Griffin and his band of football hooligans now kept off the terraces because the tickets cost too much.
Happy New Year
Given the ongoing festivities my patience is slightly less elastic than usual but even allowing for that, I’m left mouthing “WTF does THIS mean?” to the computer… Has it been hastily and loosely translated from another language?
Yes, Nick. The actions of the BNP are mirrored in Christianity as a dedicated fraternity whose strength lies in the absolute integrity of its members.
Such a hard decision! The cat’s white. But…it’s Persian!!! What to do?
Taken on its own that is pretty much the Christmas story. Nothing wrong with it and an improvement on many I heard from elevated pulpits this year, such as Jesus came to be an example and show us all how to live, etc.
The cat looks like a tabby.
I meant the original cat…
Nick Griffin… The type of bloke whose face one could never tire of punching…
Appealing to the religious always leaves this old atheist entirely unmoved.
Always ready to agree that Griffin is a twat but tired (exhausted, more like) references to “racism” are an unwarranted descent into cliché, adding to the tedium of entertaining relatives over Christmas. I’d rather like the BNP to win a seat or two, just for the joy of witnessing the outrage on the BBC website – not to mention The Guardian. Seems a degree of outrage might be felt by one or two contributors here, sensitive souls with no sense of humour.
Assuming that ‘Frankie’ is male (and if he’s a she, then I forgive Muslim extremists for many of their less vile crimes) then, should I be obliged to choose, I’d prefer to take my long-term chance of survival with Mr Griffin (proven lawyer, husband, father, tax-payer, MEP and more importantly, a constant thorn in many a wretched British governments’ side). Apart from anything else, I doubt he’d be happy punching another human repeatedly in the face. On the other hand, A @ T Airman’s attitude toward a tired old fairy story seems sober enough. I was going to write English enough – however the impulse was tempered by the thought of civilised people like Frankie (the fist) tracking me down.
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