ParliReach wall contribution

I’ve been told I have white privilege
and how often I would duck it…
I’ve been told I’m Satan* by Marxists
and to all you I say “fuck it?”

I’ve been forced to write on this wall
for the colour of my skin
which is many shades of wrong –
by the people who came in.

I know enough of history
from Robespierre to Mao
to know you’ll see another wall
with the turning of the crowd.

Do not bite the hand that feeds

that’s holding all the cards

do not piss off the productive

or we can let you starve.

I agree with the Marxists, you see
for all the “wrong” badthink reasons.
If you’d been less arrogant
you could have won, with one more season.

By all means, awaken the Saxon;
but he is a bloodthirsty madman.

Have you seen what we’ve done to our kin?
Our brothers, white as snow?
Have you seen the civil wars, the torture and gaol?

What do you imagine we’d do
to a wretch as base and low as you?
You’ve set up an illegitimate colony
and strut around like you built the place.
But we built it once, we can build it again
when we eject you in disgrace.

It didn’t work in Munster, the cages are still there.
If we deported the lot of you, we wonder how we’d fare…?
We never voted for this, we were never asked.
Genocide is illegal, still, your passport is a farce.

You come here and leech off our society.

We’ll tear it down to build another, happily.

We gave you all we had, the country we bled for
you spat in our face, attacked us, had contempt for
the guest right and its conditions, civility and merit
but as we gaze long at the outcomes, you can rightly shove it.
You are clothed in the purple of liars
of frauds and rejects spare
we see through you to your skin
your lies are just as bare.

And as you tell us not to look
behind the curtain tall
it makes us all have time to wonder
is the giant truly …small?
We never tried to push you
it was ‘mean’ to fight you back.
But back us into a corner
and you’ll see we never lacked.

We will never be slaves
it is not in our blood
we are kind and genteel
until, we’ve had enough.

We groan quietly at first,
you think our tuts don’t matter,
but when we wake from slumber
I tell you, Marxists, scatter!

From the people of this country
we’ve almost had enough.
Push us a little harder
and we shall call your bluff.

*seriously, like, in person

You may reproduce for free, but on condition you credit me (a link to this page would be fine).

I may still publish this for real, a few years later once this nonsense is all gone.

There are good men in every age

Men of culture. I know they exist but I seem to be related to most of them.

Bring back good breeding. Leave Debrett’s at schools. Speaking of –

He nailed the pronunciation. Nailed it to the wall like art.

I find it tricky to recite aloud, it’s a tongue twister. There’s a little flyting in how he mocks his self-proclaimed enemies for hating his scant contentment, it’s so stoic. It’s what rap wished it could be, you can feel the genuine confidence.

I think a lot of lost men could benefit from studying it, alongside ‘IF’.

A great poem, especially in these times. That is one of the greatest poems in English literature, and while quite well-known here, I’m shocked how few foreigners have ever heard of it.
White culture and grace in a poem. They’d never dare teach it in schools, it has so many virtues, a sense of known superiority and a kind of contempt for lesser minds. It’s taught at uni level, it’s on the oxford website.

https://www.bartleby.com/40/51.html

A Short Analysis of ‘My Mind to Me a Kingdom Is’

If you’re of the “white people invented civilization” persuasion (cough Charles Murray), it pretty much describes the attitude of how.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/282085.Human_Accomplishment

Ironically, it could be adopted as a mindset by other races, they just don’t want to.

Kipling: White Man’s Burden

TAKE up the White Man’s burden –
Send forth the best ye breed –
Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives’ need;
To wait in heavy harness
On fluttered folk and wild –
Your new-caught sullen peoples,
Half devil and half child.

Take up the White Man’s burden –
In patience to abide
To veil the threat of terror
And check the show of pride;
By open speech and simple,
An hundred times made plain,
To seek another’s profit,
And work another’s gain.

Take up the White Man’s burden –
The savage wars of peace –
Fill full the mouth of famine
And bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest
The end for others sought,
Watch Sloth and heathen Folly
Bring all your hopes to nought.

Take up the White Man’s burden –
No tawdry rule of kings,
But toil of serf and sweeper –
The tale of common things.
The ports ye shall not enter,
The roads ye shall not tread,
Go make them with your living,
And mark them with your dead !

Take up the White Man’s burden –
And reap his old reward,
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard –
The cry of hosts ye humour
(Ah slowly !) towards the light:-
“Why brought ye us from bondage,
“Our loved Egyptian night ?”

Take up the White Man’s burden –
Ye dare not stoop to less –
Nor call too loud on Freedom
To cloak your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
By all ye leave or do,
The silent sullen peoples
Shall weigh your Gods and you.

Take up the White Man’s burden –
Have done with childish days –
The lightly proffered laurel,
The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
Through all the thankless years,
Cold-edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The judgement of your peers.

 

http://www.kiplingsociety.co.uk/poems_burden.htm

A key question of anthropology and psychology is When did we become human?

Cross-cultural studies show plainly, many of us are not there yet.

Even in the West.

Pity has killed the white man, the stupidity of taking slaves and allowing the conquered to survive, breed with food and other resources they couldn’t earn themselves. The weakness of being uncomfortable with natural law. If you let the conquered have a seat at the feast, they succeed, they have won. Mercy is the absence of punishment, not reward. White men have a profound weakness for the outgroup and this is pathological altruism. The world is not your family, they are your enemy.

The aid workers will be spat on in future, even ignoring the rape scandals. They took from their own people, things they did not earn and gave them to our enemies (traitors). To make them strong, so they can swarm us. They do not love us, they cannot love the outgroup, they hate and resent us like a brat. Sensing this hatred is common sense but impolite to mention.

God, Nature made them that way because they need to evolve. Do not spoonfeed adults. Stupidity is the capital crime of nature, mind.

Each culture earns its place.

Nobody gets to cut the line.

The Third World will starve – due to First World hubris.

Kipling’s The Stranger

THE STRANGER within my gate,
He may be true or kind,
But he does not talk my talk—
I cannot feel his mind.
I see the face and the eyes and the mouth,
 But not the soul behind.

The men of my own stock
They may do ill or well,
But they tell the lies I am wonted to,
They are used to the lies I tell.
And we do not need interpreters
When we go to buy and sell.

The Stranger within my gates,
 He may be evil or good,
But I cannot tell what powers control—
What reasons sway his mood;
Nor when the Gods of his far-off land
Shall repossess his blood.

The men of my own stock,
 Bitter bad they may be,
But, at least, they hear the things I hear,
And see the things I see;
And whatever I think of them and their likes
They think of the likes of me.

This was my father’s belief
 And this is also mine:
Let the corn be all one sheaf—
And the grapes be all one vine,
Ere our children’s teeth are set on edge
By bitter bread and wine.

 

http://www.kiplingsociety.co.uk/rg_stranger1.htm

Sails
Alphonse de Lamartine

When I was young and proud and opened my wings,
The wings of my soul to all the winds of the sea,
Sails carried my thoughts with them,
And my dreams floated over all the bitter waves.

I saw in this haze where the horizon drowns
All verdant vines and jasmine appearing,
Continents of life and islands of joy
Where fame and love came by to take my hand.

I envied every ship that blanched the foam,
Happily aspiring to the unknown coast,
And now, seated at the shore of the smoking cape,
I have crossed those waves and returned.

And I still love those seas that I so loved before,
No longer as the scene of my cherished dreams
But like a fertile death where my wings were sown,
Showing fragments of me everywhere.

This reef broke me, this shore proved fatal
My fortune foundered in that calm deceit;
The lightning fell upon me here from the celestial bow
And each of those waves turns my heart a little.

 

from http://www.poemswithoutfrontiers.com/Les_Voiles.html

Wordsworth on Modernity

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. –Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.