All the rain that failed to fall in the summer was blown on us in a series of gales. .
The tiny path led us by the side of where the Medway meets the Thames, and where both rivers meet the mud. The rain acted like a scattering of Vaseline on the cobbles so it was slow and tedious going.
Rochester is a beautiful city, yet the local authority should be ashamed that the roads are smothered in a veneer of beer cans and litter: this ancient city needs a good scrub. We walked through Gillingham and in a suburb we discovered a street with a monopoly of Lebanese, Turkish, and Nigerian shops and full of what Starmer calls “strangers”. Jane and I rather liked it. Sad so many shops are shut and there are so many nail bars and “casinos” the late cabinet minister (under Blair), Tessa Jowell, had to admit that loosening the “gaming” laws was a catastrophe. The fact the UK is a world gambling centre is shaming with vast quantities of social security cash wickedly sucked from the pockets if those least able to pay.
One day our blinkers will fall away and we will decide that we really cannot go on allowing ghastly cars to pollute our country. They clog up our roads. The only vehicle I admire is a car crusher.
Bring It On!
If I call for an end to asylum, am I immediately condemned as a far-right bigot? If so, too bad. Bring it on!
We can no longer afford to allow absolutely anybody claiming persecution to enter the UK. Why are we granting all foreigners, often with manufactured sob stories, access to our expensive judicial, welfare and healthcare systems? These strangers have never contributed tuppence – and may never do so. For the developing world, the offer of such refuge is irresistible. For us, the poor sodding taxpayers, it’s simply ruinous.
Years ago, it was a wonderful idea that anyone facing persecution could find a safe haven. But that was then, and this is now – the past is a foreign country, and they do things differently there. Today, the system is riddled with corruption and has become a playbook for dodgy lawyers. All too often, those claiming “credible fear” of political persecution are economic migrants coached by smugglers or half-witted aid workers on what to tell the authorities to game the rules. As a result, we see mosques full of Muslims who’ve ostensibly converted to Christianity; platoons of young men from socially conservative countries who claim to be gay; and boatloads of heavily bearded men presenting themselves as teenagers.
Why do we remain committed to this farce? Why should the UK abdicate control over its borders? We see the effects of this in the courts. A Gazan family of six gained entry using rules designed to shelter Ukrainians. A Pakistani man imprisoned for rape was allowed to remain in the UK because deportation would be hard on his children – whom he’s forbidden to see without supervision since he’s a paedophile. A Nigerian woman, denied asylum nine times in a row, eventually won her case. Fancy! Nine attempts, all at our expense! How much did that nonsense cost?
Today, migrants in Scunthorpe email their chums in war-torn Congo about the lovely free hotel they’re living in courtesy of the Home Office. Can we really be surprised that people use small boats to get here? After we scrap this daft system, we can choose who is invited to live here. But perhaps countries like the UK – which saw its foreign-born population rise from nearly zero to 20 per cent in 20 years – could be seen as having already done their part. Droves of poorly educated, low-skilled arrivals are diluting social cohesion, increasing criminality, depressing GDP per capita and costing UK taxpayers hundreds of thousands of pounds each over their lifetimes. The government wants to be seen as nice and generous. Well, why can’t it be nice and generous to those of us who already live here – and who are obliged to pay the bills?
Thumb in Bum, Mind in Neutral
I never cease to wonder why so many people go to church. Since you ask, what do I mean?
Recently, at a local church, I heard a truly remarkable sermon. It was a summary of the reasons why we should believe in the resurrection – a key issue, of course, for if the resurrection didn’t occur, our faith collapses into candy floss thinking. The preacher was excellent, blending stories and humour – one of those rare speakers you absolutely must listen to. As ZANE supporters are aware, most preachers are dire, banging on about climate change, the dreadful State of Israel, foodbanks, slavery or some such tosh. So, last Sunday was an electric occasion, powerful and relevant.
Afterwards, the congregation met for coffee and not a single person commented – not one. This must be heartbreaking for vicars. Preach your heart out, and week after week, all you get are blank, bovine faces staring back at you – without even the faintest glimmer of comprehension or interest!
I think that if Jesus appeared in person and gave the original rendering of the Sermon on the Mount, people would still just sit there wondering what’s for lunch.
