The End Times of Albion: Hirsch + Hirsch and others — BAME Racism Echoing Through Feminist Megaphones
The End Times of Albion, Part 7C
by Seneca III
The ancient locale of Tottenham lies six miles due north of the Tower of London and a mile west of the City. It has existed for over a thousand years since a man named Totta or Tota established a homestead, or ‘Ham’ in old English, as derived from the Proto-Germanic ‘haimaz’, and it has grown and changed in various stages since that time.
It was recorded in the 1086 Domesday Book as Toteham when about 70 families lived within the area of the manor. From the Tudor period onwards, Tottenham became a popular recreation and leisure destination for wealthy Londoners. Henry VIII is known to have visited Bruce Castle, and also hunted in Tottenham Wood.
In 1894 Tottenham was made an urban district, and on 27 September 1934 it became a municipal borough. From 1 April 1965, the municipal borough formed part of the London Borough of Haringey and was thus absorbed into the Metropolitan conglomerate.
One of its most prominent sons who comes down to us through the pages of history is Sir Henry Percy (1364—1403), known as Harry Hotspur, eldest son of the 1st Earl of Northumberland. As a result of the reputation he had established as a fearless and heroic warrior, Percy earned the nickname ‘Hotspur’ from his willingness to charge into the thickest part of battle, and his frequent use of spurs when riding.
His reputation continued to grow until he was slain at the Battle of Shrewsbury in 1403, at which time his family owned large tracts of land in Tottenham. He is depicted as Hotspur in Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part 1, and it was after his determination and courage that the local — and down the years a very successful football team — ‘Tottenham Hotspur’, were named.
Today, Tottenham it is a very different place, and is represented in Parliament by Labour MP David Lammy…
…a London born parliamentarian of British Guianese (now known as Guyana) parentage who grew up in Tottenham and succeeded that infamous Georgetown, Guiana-born racist Bernie Grant, MP, the previous Labour incumbent from 1987 until his death in 2000.
Coincidentally or otherwise, Tottenham is immediately adjacent to the Hackney North and Stoke Newington constituency of that towering intellect, KFC bon vivant and motorcycle pillion passenger, the fragrant Dianne Abbott, MP…
…Labour Shadow Home Secretary, champion of mathematical ineptitude and semi-permanent member of the panel on David Dimbleby’s BBC weekly flying circus known as Question Time.
In a 1984 interview with the journal of the Labour Committee on Ireland (LCI), when asked if she saw herself as Black British, Abbott replied, “No — I would self-define myself just as Black. Though I was born here in London, I couldn’t identify as British and anyway most British people don’t accept us as British. God! British people can be so racist”
Yet later, whilst condemning everyone else’s children to an education in the largely failing inner city comprehensives in her constituency, she persisted in sending her son to an expensive white British boarding school, despite having previously raged on about such privileged establishments which, incidentally, her affirmative-actioned life and opportunities had made possible for her to afford. In some instances, gratitude doesn’t even have a half-life — it has no life at all.
So, Di, thanks for the memory, but enough of that Rocky Horror Picture Show and back to Bernie Grant’s fiefdom, that somewhat less than quaint tribal village — once known as Tottenham and now as Africa-on-Thames.
Bernie Grant’s defining moment of infamy resulted from what could arguably be called the most horrific unsolved crime in the recent history of London, and in perspective it is far more indicative of the parlous condition to which that city has sunk than were the 2011 riots, which were in part a product of the same primitive tribal environment as was demonstrated 26 years previously.
Interlude — The 1981 Scarman Report
The Scarman Report was commissioned by the UK Government following the rioting, looting and arson that took place during the Brixton riots on the 10th-12th April 1981. At that time the whole of the United Kingdom was affected by a recession, including the Lambeth area African-Caribbean community, where unemployment, poor housing, and a higher-than-average crime rate were on the rise.
On 18 January a number of black youths died in a fire during a house party in New Cross. The authorities claimed it may have been accidental, and that the fire started inside the house, but on the jungle network it was widely touted to have been a racially motivated arson attack by someone outside the property, and the police investigation was criticised as inadequate for not exploring that possibility. Consequently, black agitators organised a march for the “Black People’s Day of Action” on 2 March. Accounts of the turnout vary from 5 to 25 thousand.
Scarman seeking opinions
In 1980 the number of crimes recorded in the Lambeth Borough was 30,805. The Brixton Division was responsible for 10,626 of those crimes. Between 1976 and 1980 Brixton accounted for 35% of all crimes in the Borough, but 49% of all robbery and violent theft offences. Temperatures were rising all round and were thus fanned into flames by black ‘activists’ such as Darcus Howe…
…of Britain’s Black Power Movement:
During the riots, 299 police were injured, along with at least 65 members of the public. 61 private vehicles and 56 police vehicles were destroyed. 28 premises were burned and another 117 damaged and looted and 82 arrests were made.
Lord Scarman’s report was published on 25 November 1981. Scarman found unquestionable evidence of the disproportionate and indiscriminate use of ‘stop and search’ powers by the police against black people. A new code for police procedures was promulgated in the ‘Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984’ and the act also created an independent Police Complaints Authority, established in 1985. Scarman concluded that “complex political, social and economic factors created a disposition towards violent protest.”
Effectively, this was the semi-neutering of the Police by preventing them from using two of their most effective tools: profiling and behavioral analysis. It was the first step in giving selective immunity from apprehension and justice to a significant subset of the urban demographic, violent black criminal gangs, which then proliferated and functioned more openly, often with virtual impunity.
When justice has been removed, all that is left is a decline into barbarity, and that wasn’t long in coming.
In October 1985 on the notorious Broadwater Farm housing estate the new native Tottenhamians were getting restless and exercising their officially sanctioned impunity to predate upon each other and the rest of society largely unchecked, which inevitably still resonates today. So stand by for those long, hot summer days to come in Afro-Londonistan…and elsewhere in the UK and Merkelised Europe.
Broadwater Farm Estate was built partly to rehouse the white poor of this once Victorian slum and partly in response to a need to accommodate the huge influx of immigrants who had arrived and were arriving predominantly from the West Indies and sub-Saharan Africa. It was, despite an outward appearance of modernity and a relatively civilised environment, an abject failure of urban planning that resulted in the creation of a seething criminal hive that was impossible to police effectively.
As initially built, the estate contained 1,063 flats, providing homes for 3,000-4,000 people. The design of the estate was inspired by Le Corbusier, in shape and form depicting soulless large concrete blocks and towers.
Because of the high water table and the flood risk caused by the Moselle river, which flows through the site, no housing was built at ground level. Instead, the ground level was entirely occupied by dimly lit car parks. The buildings were linked by a system of interconnected walkways at first floor level known as the “deck level”. Shops and amenities were also located on the deck level, and those walkways created dangerously isolated areas which became hotspots for crime and robbery and provided easy escape routes for criminals through all seven interconnected tower blocks — while the underground car parks created a safe haven for drug dealers and every other flavour of criminal entrepreneur imaginable.
In 1981 black residents set up a “Youth Association” which agitated against the so-called police ‘harassment’ of black residents, when in fact the police were only doing their best to try and keep a lid on the depredations of this simmering cauldron of cultural retrogression.
On the 5th of October the drums of black entitlement, and an assumed exemption from the Laws of the Land and the justice they deliver, began to beat again in rising crescendo.
“…a week after the Brixton riot, police arrested Floyd Jarrett, a 24-year-old black man from Tottenham, on suspicion of being in a stolen car. It was a suspicion that turned out to be groundless, but a decision was made several hours later to search the home of his mother, Cynthia Jarrett, for stolen goods. In the course of the search she collapsed and died of heart failure. The pathologist, Walter Somerville, told the inquest that Mrs. Jarrett had a heart condition that meant she probably only had months to live…
Protesters began to gather outside Tottenham police station, a few hundred yards from Broadwater Farm, around 1:30 am on Sunday morning, 6 October. Four of the station’s windows were smashed, but the Jarrett family asked the crowd to disperse. Later that day, two police officers were attacked with bricks and paving stones at the Farm, and a police inspector was attacked in his car…
By early evening a crowd of 500 mostly young black men had gathered on the estate, setting fire to cars, throwing petrol bombs and bricks, and dropping concrete blocks and paving stones from the estate’s outdoor walkways, knocking several police officers unconscious, despite their NATO helmets…
Apart from Blakelock’s death 250 police officers were injured, and two policemen and three journalists suffered gunshot wounds. At least 30 shots were fired from three firearms, the first time shots had been fired by rioters in Britain. At 9:45 pm the Metropolitan Police Commissioner, Sir Kenneth Newman, authorized the deployment of specialist police armed with plastic bullets and CS gas to be used “as a last resort should all else fail”; it would have been the first use of plastic bullets during a riot in Britain. The unit arrived at 10:20 pm, but the senior officers at the scene refused to use them, to the apparent dismay of junior officers. The rioting continued until the early hours of the morning…
PC Blakelock was assigned on the night to Serial 502, a Metropolitan police unit consisting of a sergeant and 10 constables from Hornsey and Wood Green police stations. A “shield serial” was a unit equipped with shields, NATO helmets and a personnel carrier…
They arrived at the estate’s Gloucester Road entrance in their Sherpa van at around 7:45 pm, armed with truncheons and shields: three long riot shields and six round ones. At 9:30 pm Sgt David Pengelly led the unit onto the estate to protect firemen who had earlier attended a supermarket fire in the Tangmere block but had been forced out. Tangmere had been built as a ziggurat (with successively receding levels) with a shopping precinct on the first floor, as well as flats with balconies. According to PC Richard Coombes, several men shouted from one of the balconies that the supermarket was on fire. He feared that it was a trap.
The firemen made their way back up an enclosed staircase inside Tangmere with Serial 502 behind them. Dozens of rioters suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, blowing whistles and throwing bottles. Pengelly ordered the officers and firefighters to retreat. They were forced to run backwards down the unlit narrow staircase, fearful of tripping over the fire hoses, which had been flat before but were now full of water. PC Coombes, armed with just a short truncheon, said the noise — “Kill the pigs!” — was deafening, and he could hardly see through the scratched Perspex visor on his helmet.
There were rioters at the bottom of the stairs too, wearing masks or crash helmets, and carrying knives, machetes, baseball bats, bricks, petrol bombs and paving stones. The bombs started exploding, the paving stones were thrown at the officers’ helmets, and the riot shields were the only defence against the machetes. As the firefighters and police ran out of the stairwell toward a car park and a patch of grass, one of the firemen, Trevor Stratford, saw that Blakelock had tripped: “He just stumbled and went down and they were upon him. It was just mob hysteria. … There were about 50 people on him.”…
The rioters removed Blakelock’s protective helmet, which was never found. The pathologist, David Bowen, found 54 holes in Blakelock’s overalls, and 40 cutting or stabbing injuries, eight of them to his head, caused by a machete, sword or axe-type instrument. A six-inch-long knife was buried in his neck up to the hilt.
His body was covered in marks from having been kicked or stamped on. His hands and arms were badly cut, and he had lost several fingers trying to defend himself. There were 14 stab wounds on his back, one on the back of his right thigh, six on his face, and his jawbone had been smashed by a blow that left a six-inch gash across the right side of his head. Bowen said the force of this blow had been “almost as if to sever his head”, which gave rise to a rumour that an attempt had been made to decapitate him.
A second group surrounded PC Coombes, who sustained a five-inch-long cut to his face, had his neck slit open, and was left with broken upper and lower jaws. As of 2016 he was still suffering the effects of the attack, which the police regard as attempted murder, including constant pain, poor hearing and eyesight, epileptic fits, nightmares, and a memory so poor that he was left unable to read a book or drive. A third constable, Michael Shepherd, had his protective helmet pierced by an iron spike. Shepherd collapsed next to Coombes and placed his shield over Coombes to protect him from the crowd, who were kicking and hitting them both. Several officers and firefighters turned and ran back toward the crowd to try to save Blakelock and Coombes. Trevor Stratford told a reporter in 2010: “I remember running in with another fire officer to get Dick Coombes. I literally slid into the group, like a rugby player charging into a ruck. We dragged him out, but he was in a hell of a state”:
I then ran back towards Keith Blakelock. Other police officers were already there. We were all being hit and beaten, but I managed to get hold of his collar and pull his head and shoulders out of the group. One of the other officers helped me to drag him out.
Dave Pengelly kept a rearguard barrier between us and the rioters, standing in the middle of it all with just a shield and a truncheon, trying to fend them off, which is an image I’ll never forget. Between us all we managed to manhandle Keith out to the road, and safety. He was already unconscious when I’d got to him on the ground. I started mouth-to-mouth and heart massage on him, but his injuries were just horrific.
He had a knife embedded up to the handle in the back of his neck. We could see he had multiple stab wounds and some of his fingers were missing. I just kept working on him with another officer, and I think we got some response, but only very limited.
PC Blakelock was taken by ambulance to the North Middlesex Hospital but died on the way. Coombes was taken to hospital by fire truck. Stratford was left with a spinal injury and 19-year-old PC Maxwell Roberts had been stabbed. Pengelly said in 2010 that, when the other officers got back to the safety of their van, “We just sat there, numb with shock, and life was never the same again for any of us.”
In summary, Police Constable Keith Henry Blakelock lost his life whilst protecting firefighters who were trying to save the lives and property of relatives of that howling mob of black savages who chopped him to pieces with knives and machetes, and whose ‘community’, for want of a better word, refused ever after to identify.
Despite their years of pain as they watched failed attempt after failed attempt to bring the perpetrators to justice, neither his poor mother nor his grieving wife were ever ennobled, but of course they were white and weren’t born in the West Indies. So, despite suffering a similar horrible loss to that of Baroness Doreen Lawrence, they were left in the shadows because there would be no multicultural political traction for the apologists in Westminster to use by bringing them into the public spotlight.
The unsavoury Bernie Grant’s contribution to all this was prophetic to say the least:
“As Council leader during the 1985 Broadwater Farm riot, in which a policeman, PC Keith Blakelock, was murdered, Grant was brought to national attention when he was widely quoted as saying: “What the police got was a bloody good hiding.” Grant claimed his words had been taken out of context, but a fuller version of the quotation is: “The youths around here believe the police were to blame for what happened on Sunday and what they got was a bloody good hiding.” His comments brought swift denunciation from the Labour Party leadership…
…The controversy, however, did not prevent him becoming MP for Tottenham in the 1987 election, one of Britain’s first Black British MPs, the others being Diane Abbott and Paul Boateng. Grant later stood for the deputy leadership of the Labour Party.”
Well, Bernie always was a couple of coconuts short of a palm tree so that would have made him a perfect Labour parliamentarian.
Enriched, we are.
Remove justice, and what are kingdoms but gangs of criminals on a large scale? What are criminal gangs but petty kingdoms? A gang is a group of people under command of a leader, bound by a compact of association, in which the plunder is divided according to an agreed convention.
If this villainy wins so many recruits from the ranks of the demoralized that it acquires territory, establishes a base, captures cities and subdues people, it then openly arrogates itself the title of kingdom, which is conferred on it in the eyes of the world, not by the renouncing of aggression but by the attainment of impunity.
(St. Augustine, City of God. 4-4)
The removal of justice is what the BAMEs and the likes of Hirsch and Co. are about — the removal of justice to free them to pursue their own ethno-acquisitive ends, and the result that was so well described by St. Augustine is clearly visible all around us. We see it in the feral, murderous black sub-cultures infesting our cities, we see it in the establishment-protected Muslim rape gangs rampaging unchecked throughout the Occupied Territories, we see it in the media with its butterfly horde of journalistic, disinformation-peddling co-conspirators and we see it incestuously embedded throughout academia. In all, it is a sure sign of a human ideological plague as virulent as Yersina pestis — the bacterial pathogen that caused the Black Death.
Irrespective of the current propaganda machine’s persistence that racism is solely a White affliction, the reality is that racism has always existed, everywhere. It is a tribal thing, a means of identifying and thus counteracting and repelling invasive interlopers who would otherwise seize the resources and hard-won achievements of another tribe and use them for their own benefit. It is an essential and eternal element of the human condition, indeed that of much of the animal kingdom as well, a mechanism that evolution has hard-wired into our genes for good reason — personal survival — and all protestations to the contrary are but the importunate squeakings of lemmings.
In retrospect I have come to realise that, subliminally, an awareness of my racial identity and a desire to maintain the stable homogeneity of my tribe has been a part of my post-pubertal life experience for well over sixty years. At first, when the number of immigrants was small, and they readily assimilated, this was of very little concern to me, peripheral at most if at all, but, as time went by, it began forcing itself more and more into my mainstream perceptions. With the advent of mass immigration from alien and predominantly barbaric cultures in the late postwar years it increased in both frequency and intensity.
I first became fully aware of its existence in 1958 when race riots broke out in the St. Ann’s Well Road area of Nottingham, about 20 miles from where I lived as a young man, and a week later far away in Notting Hill, London, both initiated by lower-class white youths from the poorest stratum of society.
However, since then aggressive racism, and an unhealthy focus on racial identity and tribal dominance, has migrated across ethnic boundaries (or activated what was already carefully hidden there, more likely) and is now driven with acquisitive determination by the invasive BAME entity and then fanned into white heat by their establishment and globalist interlocutors. This ‘Phoney War’ stage through which we are now living is approaching its end, and when that comes there will be no way forward other than violent confrontation.
It would appear to me that the time has come for us to rethink how we have been conditioned to think, for the singularly ‘White Racist!’ meme has, as it was intended to, occupied, influenced and terrorised a wide and substantial range of indigenous thinking.
Yet, indoctrination does not have to live forever within a functional mind. Ridding ourselves of such perverse socio-political doctrines is the only thing that can keep us sane and render us internally immune to the emotional siren calls and draconian diktats of the malignant social engineers and their violent foot soldiers who now beset us.
That rethinking process is the one absolute that can anchor the people of our White Tribe to each other despite these times being ones of such trial and tribulation. Consequently, the seminal questions to which we of that tribe need swift answers are: “What are we going to do about it?” and “When do we start and how do we go about it before it’s too late?”
And, if you should think that those last paragraphs are over-egging the omelet, then go look at what is happening to the White Tribe of South Africa, for that is your future if you don’t gird your loins and react en masse very soon.
— Seneca III, in Middle England, quietly giving thanks for the memory of that pleasant time before our ethnic cleansing began, this 23rd day of June 2018
For links to previous essays by Seneca III, see the Seneca III Archives.