I am sure our Business Secretary, or is it Minister for "Foreign Affairs", Lord Peter Mandelson can attest there is nothing more disturbing, indeed frightening than to find in the midst of an evening of passionate love making with his boy friend a sense of disloyalty to his own people whilst having sexual dalliances with swarthy unwashed, smelly foreigners rather than cohabiting with his own kind. Are these the quiet reflections my Lord contemplates while gazing into the out of focus middle distance during idle moments whilst representing his people’s best interests at the European Commission, better known as the Gallic/Germanic Alliance.

I have in the past been accused of resorting to crude sarcasm instead of embracing logical and intelligent debate. How can one debate with the devil? The truth is I am worried sick that maybe I am in the process of sliding into some sort of controlled madness, if there is such as thing; nothing seems to make any sense any more.

I once went to an abattoir, I did not watch the animal’s beings stunned nor did I want to watch their slaughter, but I find a perfect analogy between these poor animals unknowingly walking passively to their deaths and the once proud peoples of Europe surrendering their individual unique cultures and control of their futures, and relinquishing many parts of their magnificent cities to the eastern invader, but more insane a gesture, sacrificing their yet-to-be-born children’s futures on the high altar of a frighteningly authoritarian New World Order.

The blatant lies of our politicians go unheeded. The truth is there for all to see, it is all around us, yet the truth is ignored. There is a striking similarity to the irritation of a persons dying screams interrupting another persons enjoyment of their favourite TV soapie. As each day passes it becomes harder to distinguish the blurred line where reality ends and non reality commences.

One day the screams will be heard but it will be too late. As we voyage into the far future the man in the black uniform with knee high jackboots, cradling a sub machine gun, wearing a blue shoulder patch with yellow stars and whose face is expressionless behind his bullet proof Lexan face shield, speaking with a mid European accent and who demands to run over you to check your Federation Nano ID implant, you will know it is too late to scream.

The people of Cambodia awoke one day to find their leaders on a whim had returned them to year Zero and proceeded to massacre millions of them. It only takes a few comparatively powerful and morally bankrupt and corrupt people to rule the rest of us. Another madman a Mr Straw stated the English as a race are not worth saving. Is it because he is not English? Yet these same people he alludes to will vote for him. They are no different to the shuffling cattle lined up in the abattoir. Unlike the animals perhaps they deserve their fate.

In the year two thousand and something the Austrian jails will be full of political dissenters. You want to vote for a political party that wants to ends this madness; sorry by then you will not have a choice. You left it too late. At present our people unlike the Cambodian peasants, still have the power to halt this madness dead in its tracks, but having two bob each way that our country cannot or will not descend into the bizarre world of science fiction is madness.

Don’t kid yourself we are just the prolls. We as ordinary people are expendable. Our valuable young people are sent to battle other faceless peoples wars when the unseen war is about to take place in our own country. We should not fight unwinnable wars; a war becomes winnable by using ‘EVERY’ weapon at your disposal to defeat the enemy, first removing the referees on the side of the battlefield such as UN, EU, and Amnesty International and Human Rights observers.

Mothers and fathers do not want to see their sons and daughters being returned home in wooden boxes or returned to their loved ones minus limbs fighting unwinnable wars. Yes we the people are expendable!

I would have liked to have coined General Norman Swarzkoph’s reply to a question “was there room for forgiveness for the people who have harboured and abetted the terrorists who perpetrated the 9/11 attacks on America” His reply being ‘I believe forgiving them is Gods function, our job is to arrange the meeting."

A nationalist writer named Silver Falcon expressed it perfectly when she wrote “burn your boats and you cannot return home”.