England, the home of parliamentary democracy, the rule of law, civility and poetry, all but gone, succumbing to Islam via multiculturalism. Shakespeare, Blackstone, Milton, Newton, and Matthew Arnold: “The Sea of Faith/Was once, too, full … But now I only hear/Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar …”
Wake up America! Your tolerance, your liberalism, your exaltation of pluralism and humanism are obsolete. To win the war against the most ruthless of enemies, you will have to be ruthless yourself. Unlike you, the enemy does not believe in the sanctity of human life: he uses women and children as human bombs to kill you. And with each leniency and retreat on your part, his so-called moderate co-religionists will join him. Now, given an enemy that pursues his global and totalitarian objective in the name of a monotheistic religion, can you muster the ruthlessness you exhibited in your war against Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan?
Ponder this from England (courtesy of Jihad Watch):
…Yes, of course, Moslems are an alien body in our midst. Every day in London—on the tube, in shops, in parks, whilst shopping, whilst going about the 101 tasks that make up an average life—this is borne in on me.
In London today Moslems dress differently, are rude to locals, jump queues, shout at us, wave their fists at us, call us ‘worthless infidel’ in public and in loud voices. I have, just four days ago, been elbowed aside by a moslem couple, with sidekicks, whilst trying to top up my Oyster card at a tube station at the automatic machine. Apparently, I had taken longer than the ten seconds that they were prepared to wait and so three burly males forced me aside and, when I objected, pushed me to the floor and—quite literally—and took over the machine which I was attempting to use.
Not, in a crowded and impatient city like London, that this was a surprise, but that in this instance that I was insulted by these people was a surprise. The eldest male in the group, dressed in the usual and ridiculous garb of mohammedans everywhere, looked directly at me and said, in quite clear English, (and I quote verbatim) “Get out of our way infidel slave”.
You may imagine how I felt at that moment. To be so insulted in my own capital city was stunning. It took all my self-control not to do something rash at that moment.
Knowing that CCTV cameras would have captured this incident I complained, some three hours later (after having completed my journey and return), to the British Transport Police on the Broadway. I need not have bothered. Not only would no-one there take my complaint of ‘technical assault and insult’ seriously but no-one to whom I spoke was even prepared to initiate any paperwork whatsoever nor were they remotely prepared to find and look at the video recordings. Indeed, one Officer even said to me that I ‘should swallow my pride’ and live with it because—and, once again, I quote verbatim ‘you are just being racist and you have to remember that it’s cultural with them’.
Obviously, at this point, I indicated that I felt that I had been physically assaulted and that I would really like to have my complaint investigated. Well, this is really where everything about that evening begins to stick in my craw. When I said that, the Officer of the BTP who was listening to me actually cautioned me and warned me that if I persisted with making a nuisance of myself I would be charged under the The Race Relations Act 1976 and the RRAA (Race Relations (Amendment) Act) 2000.
I gave up at this point. Cowardice is sometimes the better part of valour. But, damn it, they won, didn’t they? I have been intimidated into a dhimmi position by them and the very powers which should have protected me in my own country.
“Happy New Year everyone”, I say in a bitter tone of voice.