Our English correspondent Seneca III muses on the election of a Muslim mayor of London, and related topics.
Cameron, Khan and Cultural Entropy — a Rant and an Explanation
by Seneca III
It has come to pass that what Napoleon and Hitler couldn’t manage, Mecca, multiculturalism and mendacity have. Sadiq Khan, the son of an immigrant Pakistani bus driver, has been elected the Mayor of London.
Thus, for the first time since William, Duke of Normandy, and his armoured knights on their fearsome war horses surged ashore at Pevensey Bay, London has become an occupied city, a city now governed by a ‘British’ Muslim bearing rather dubious ‘moderate’ credentials, to say the least. His inadequate principal rival, One Zac Goldsmith, fell by the wayside and is now being publicly rejected and reviled by his own for revealing the obvious past and present ethno-political trajectory of the victor.
Cameron of course is, for the time being, a bit of a winner here. He will be able to polish his multicultural credentials by publicly supporting Khan and at the same time give him lots of rope and room to hang himself; Khan and the Glorious Great Leader of the Labour Party hate each other’s guts and Cameron hopes that this situation will give him regular opportunities to somewhat less than delicately slip a Parliamentary debating knife into the elderly guts of the congenital retard Corbyn.
In the longer term Cameron may well be hoping to become a new Juncker or Deputy Reichsfϋhrer under (metaphorically speaking, I hope) the somewhat less than fragrant Frau Merkel or, perhaps, to be cynically indulged as the titular (emphasis being on the first syllable) leader of the New World Order where later he can spend his dotage scribbling his memoirs in the comfort of some well-prepared and well-guarded Elysium.
And so we as a people are now in the process of being forced to helplessly watch our culture and way of life being slowly garrotted. Around our necks is a noose, one end of a long and tortuous rope with two principal strands, one strand settling comfortably in the elegant, gourmet dining rooms of the Hotel Bilderberg and the other wrapped slithering and lovingly around the Kaaba.
Also, along the way, these ropes bifurcate time and time again into questing filaments, tentacles that reach into the Mother of Parliaments, the Bundestag, the Élysée Palace, Washington, Canberra, Ottawa, Silicon Valley, Davos and any other New World Order nursery you care to think of where the powerful and wealthy and their lobbyists and back door dealers rub shoulders and other less desirable (non-porcine, I hope) parts of their bodies with acquisitive bureaucrats and the corrupt and venal drones we spineless fools have elected.
Academia is a similarly occupied. Day by day, lost generation by lost generation, it spews forth butterfly hordes of delicate little flowers, the adolescent, spoon-fed, dribbling Social Justice Warriors, trembling Eloi, naïve children who spend sleepless nights frittering away the hard-earned fruits of their parent’s or the taxpayer’s labours whilst worrying if they are ever going to be able to find a ‘safe place’ where no nasty grownups will be permitted to disturb their ostrich-like existence with evil trigger words such as ‘reality’.
Well, dream on, kids. There is a big, bad world waiting for you out there, one where you have about as much chance of surviving as a Christian or other non-Muslim trapped in the tender arms of the ‘Religion of Peace’. You are deliberately and with malignant intent being deprived of any intellectual means of discerning the fate which awaits you, of finding any will to resist your ethnic cleansing and enslavement as the Great Jihad proceeds apace:
Islam, through the fecund wombs of its slave women, and also through the free-range serial breeding Afro-Caribbean community and their equally feckless brethren amongst the indigenous, parasitical, white underclass continues, together with mass legal and illegal immigration to overwhelm the indigenous population in many parts of the country — this is why and how London was lost.
The former, the Afro-Caribbeans, seem to think that they will achieve some sort of parity in the New Caliphate, so I suspect that they have never heard a blood Arab refer to them as ‘abd’, with all of the contemptuous disdain that word, when spoken in language of their prophet, carries with it. The feral white underclass simply hopes and expects that their endless hand-outs will continue ad infinitum — they are as stupid and suicidal as the delicate little flowers.
So to the demanding question this day is “How did this come about?” Well, I am no more a prophet than the ‘perfect man’, but I shall try my best to explain whilst hopefully avoiding any further outraged exposition.
To begin: This is not a unique scenario we find ourselves in; fundamentally the historic course of all civilisations is cyclic in nature — beginning as barbarous entities, they then become vigorous, and, at the height of their achievement, benign. This is then followed by a period of comfortable affluence before the rapid descent into decadence and over the precipice into the end of days.
Indeed all civilisations, over a period of three to four hundred years on average, return to a similar common starting point, a point always marked by the atrophy of their collective spirit and moral compasses in the face of indulgence and discordance. Thus, for those who care to look upon our current situation analytically and with an open mind, the genesis of this fall and its gruesome progress into the future is not too difficult to determine.
Imagine if you will a civilisation’s chronological pendulum completing a vertical ellipse rather than just an arc at the bottom. At the superior apogee, twelve Noon in the cycle, the pendulum almost pauses at a point of stability before beginning its inevitable descent, accelerating slowly at first, even imperceptibly, but ever faster as the gravity of cultural entropy increases its velocity until it approaches the inferior apogee, Midnight, where then it begins its at first rapid but ever slowing climb back into the light.
And it is there, at Midnight and immediately before and beyond, that chaos rules, and with it comes a time in human affairs that does indeed try men’s souls; a time where dawn remains but a hope beyond an unseen horizon, where the night people are well about and yet to be put to the sword, and where is found the formative crucible wherein a movement for a return to old ways and meanings begins to form, where a few men and women, bound by strength, culture and tradition gather together and stand firm against the depredations of barbarism.
But such socio-spiritual evolutions are never easy to form or prosecute, and thus nothing is ordained for such warriors on the winds of time, other than that the rectitude of their actions will define both their corporeal and spiritual fates. Hence those who do elect to stand firm, their physical and metaphysical faces streaked with the blood, sweat and dust of the battle that is roiling about them, will need to possess a depth of courage and conviction rarely found in this our now effete, materialistic, essentially selfish society.
The prognosis for our survival is not a good one.
Afterwords: I don’t have any; whosoever writes the history of these seminal times will do so according to his or her inherited perspective. I will be long gone by then, or even tomorrow if the Thought Police can pin me to this one.
— Seneca III, Middle England, morbidly fascinated to find himself living through another turning point in our long history, on this 6th day of May, 2016.
For links to previous essays by Seneca III, see the Seneca III Archives.