It’s a strange kind of peace…

…where everyone dies.

The Tiny Blur has been the Peace Envoy to the Middle East since 2007. In that time, there has hardly been a day of peace in the region. In fact it is fair to say there has been continuous war there since even before he handed over the destruction of the UK to the Brown Gorgon.

He marched into Iraq with Bushy George – well, no, he didn’t. He let other people do the marching while he stayed safe at home. Politicians talk about things, they never actually do the things they talk about. If they ever had to do what they talk about they’d never speak again. Hm. Can we make that constitutional?

And now the entire region is in flames, under the Peace Envoy who is making a hell of a lot of money out of war.

In my job, getting sacked would involve a lot less than setting fire to half a damn continent. I suspect almost everyone could say the same. So is the Tiny Blur now fired?

Of course not. He is utterly crap at his job so the solution is…

change the name of his job.

To what, I wonder? The Incredible Shirking Man? The Ultimate Spacewaste? Useless-Fucker-in-Chief? Executive Money-Grabbing Git? Skidmark on the Underpants of Humanity? The One That Just Won’t Flush? So many options present themselves.

Or we could just call him the First Horseman of the Apocalypse. He’s earned all those wonderful accolades and much, much more. And he married the daughter of Alf Garnett’s ‘scouse git’, which will probably be why we don’t see anything but blandness in our lives any more. It’s not just him. Don’t forget Slotgob’s influence.

He has made a lot of money out of being an absolute arse. He still is and does. The man has no conscience and no morals at all. Well, I say ‘man’ but if Icke was right about any of them, he was surely right about this one. This is a reptile for sure.

You know, there are still many people who think he was a great Prime Monster. Really. He was an absolute disaster as our collective representative and he set out to destroy the very people who voted for him. Yet they would vote for him again if they could. Even now, they line up to support Moribund, the Melted Man, even though he is as useful as a chocolate fireplace.

How can anyone put money above human life? Money isn’t even real. Surely someone in thre Tiny Blur’s position knows that? The only answer must be that he just doesn’t care…

…about money.

Money doesn’t even exist. Bits of paper or numbers on a computer screen. Nothing of value to back it up.

No, what the Blur types want is control. They want to Feel Important. They want you to work for non-existent money and give it to them so they can tell you how to live. Then they can take the real stuff you made.

We keep thiking it’s about money. It’s not about money. It’s entirely about control. Tiny Blur is a prime example. He has done nothing useful, made nothing in his life. He wants you to do it for him but under his control.

Money? It’s a means of control.

Money is a religion. And millions are dyng in its name.

25 thoughts on “It’s a strange kind of peace…

  1. Money. Follow the money. Who has the money? The banking collapse should have been left to sort itself out. The billions in quantative easing should have been given to the people to spend and enjoy for once. Too extreme or not enough?

    How about we, that’s the collective “we” demand all our money back from the bank bailouts? Now. This minute? If the banks don’t have it they have to give back what they have and they have to pay a huge interest rate until they do. They should get charged huge penalties If they miss a payment and we can up the interest rate as we see fit and charge them for every possible thing we want. Let’s start with them having to pay a breathing tax. Hard to avoid.

    The same for politicians, the establishment, councils, the Royals, all those billionaires, millionaire etc. there are more of us then them? But there are some of us who will want to be on the “them” side. No matter. There will still be more of us.

    I’d imagine the lefty, greeny, PC lot that blight our lives presently could be squared off at the same time.

    I slept badly last night does it show?

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  2. I can’t tell you what I think of Blair. You would delete my comment and probably ban me. And we can’t have that.
    Suffice to say that I felt a brief stirring of hope when he was first elected, despite being a Tory voter for all of my adult life. While I still actually voted, that is.
    So my disappointment and the betrayal of my hope, mostly for Britain, was palpable. I am never going to forget the feeling that dawned on me when I first began to realise how stupid I had been and how easily I had been taken in. And the dead bodies he left littered behind him in the pursuit of a Mansion and the trappings of wealth.

    May he rest in peace one day.

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    • From almost the very start It was clear that Bliar was a self serving c**t. A classic psycho as it turned out.

      I know someone who went to the same public school – he was generally despised and shunned.

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      • Poor old He. But I prefer the term, Sociopath. And then he married one. And I suspect that she is better at it than he is. He was actually only ever a Cods Wallop. Red Hat and no Drawers. But never mind. I still hope that he will rest in peace.

        PS. My children all went to Public School, and none of them finished up like him. And I had to work my socks off to give them an education that The State was no longer able to provide. So perhaps it depends on which Public School you choose.

        West Buckland as it happens. But even that school has now gone a bit Politically Correct in later days. A bit Grammar School now. And who in their right mind pays a fortune for a Grammar School education? I wanted them to be upper class little brats, although I failed somewhat on that one. Nothing brattish about any of them.
        When The Reverend George Ridding was in charge, it was a great place to be. He was a thoroughly nice man. Or so my children assure me. But then it was only a minor Public school. Fortunately, I couldn’t afford anything supposedly better.

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    • Blair and his cronies did more damage to the fabric of Britain than two world wars. And then when he and his party were finally voted out, the new incumbent proudly declares himself ‘Heir to Blair’. Dear God, what on earth has Britain done to deserve such intellectual pygmies at the helm?

      I’m so glad I don’t live there. And I don’t see myself ever living there again.

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      • Well, only those who do still live there can know the answer to to that. I think it was a bit more than just Blair. He was just the end game. And possibly the ongoing game.
        But as you say, we don’t live there, so why should it matter? Why should we care about a country that we don’t even want to visit? Or at least, i don’t want to visit. I truly do not care if I never see England again.
        And that is really sad. The land of my misgotten birth. ““`some place wherein I was always unhappy.

        I have never been unhappy here, and I m still the same person. France didn’t change me. It just gave me to be who I am.

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    • I know exactly what you mean, I felt the same but what a let down he turned out to be. He really did fool most of the people must of the time. What I hate most was the corruption of politics by the likes of Campbell et al. They Americans seemed to have made the same mistake with Obama. Our politics was never perfect but overt corruption was rare and I don’t think a decent man was driven to suicide. That anyone could even consider voting for Milliband is beyond me, if I was younger I think I would be considering leaving this country if that happens.

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      • You just have to go for who you are, Cherie. And not everyone is as daft as me.
        Moving to a foreign country wherein you can’t even speak the language, must have had some pause for thought, although I don’t actually remember that.
        I was 53 years old and utterly worn out. I just wanted some peace. I slept for six months after I came here. And then I got off my backside and learned how to earn money in a a strange place. This is what people like me do.

        I am no longer even remotely interested in the politics of the western world, beyond the odd laugh. It is so much more funny from this side of The Channel.
        I am done with being disappointed because it hurt too much.

        I am so fed up with America, and lately Obama. I even hoped that he might be a good thing. How stupid can you get? There is no President of The US of A who ever actually ran America. They are all much too thick. They pay only Lip Service to the persons who think they rule the world. And they can all go to hell on a hand cart for all I care.
        I live in my little rural wold. No light pollution round here. I know when The Moon is rising or waining. I know when to plant and when to reap. I know that Summer is coming, and that Winter will follow. My life is governed by The Seasons.
        In a minute I will be out there walking bare foot, as I always have done in Summer.

        My silly, ancient Pug will stop pissing on the carpet, and go out into the garden to pee. She so loves the Sun. Blind as a Bat and half demented, and the bane of my life. But at least she needs me to feed her. Such is life as I now know it.

        Just do what you want to do.

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        • Sounds so peaceful, I am too old to move now though, my grandchildren are here and I hope to see them grow up a bit. I do wonder what sort of world they will grow up in though! I lived abroad for a few years and liked it but I never found any place I wanted to settle and I am hopeless with languages, they are a real blind spot for me. I did like Holland and have some relatives who moved there over 20 years ago. I have Birman cat who has dementia and forgotten what her litter is for, but so far she has decided the tiled downstairs bathroom is her place so manageable for now. Also have a Ragdoll who wees on the grass which he has ruined, only uses litter when it is cold or wet so I sympathize with your dog problems. Still it’s a small price for the happy years they have given me and I hope I get as well cared for as they are! Doubt it somehow.

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          • How old is too old to move, Cherie?

            I’m 66 in a couple of months, and I’m still making long term plans. 🙂 (Ever the optimist!)

            I’ve just bought a couple of apartments in Patras (bit of an oik from here, unfortunately – 2 hours ferry then 4 hours drive) which I will do up over the next year or so. I’ll do most of the work myself (my business here is building bespoke kitchens and various other carpentry related stuff) and then hopefully sell them for a tidy profit.

            Then I have a business plan to put into operation in Thailand, so I’ll move there once the apartments are done and sold. That will then fund my building project in Asia. I have the land there, but I need the money to build. Hence the Patras project, which will hopefully double my capital.

            I should be just about done and ready to retire by the time I’m 95!

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            • Sounds wonderful if exhausting! Good luck with all your plans. I always have to think about the possibility of a recurrence of the Cancer which is a bit if a restraint. I doubt I could face the stress of moving again, I swore this house was the last move ever. I will email you re Lisa later to see if you have any advice for her thanks,

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            • Good for you. I was only 55 when I moved here. But I am a woman alone, always a bit tough. But even I can now do things that never crossed my mind before. Necessity being the mother of invention. Or some other such garbage.
              Just be a bit careful.

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              • My husband and I had some thoughts of moving abroad when he retired but then he died suddenly before he got to retirement age, very unfair after working all his life. Took me a long time to come to terms with it, such a shock when he wasn’t ill. Moved near my son a year later, not too near though! I am a bit of a loner. My little Birman, Emma, is the last cat we had together and my husband adored her, she is such a pretty little cat even at 18 in June. I am glad you rescued the pug,

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                • I am not so sure that she is. But then I don’t think she knows if she is coming or going these days. I have never owned a demented dog before, so tis hard to tell. But she will be okay because I will make sure of that she is.

                  Sadly, I only owned her for such a short time before she went a bit peculiar. So we never actually got to know each other. Although she was frightfully manic.

                  All a bit silly. She is only a dog. But she will never be hurt or neglected. And that is all I can say

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                  • I had a Siamese who had dementia for two years before she had a stroke aged 21 and I knew it was time to let her go. We had brought her from Germany when we lived there. Funny none of my moggies ever got dementia, only the pedigrees so I expect the Ragdoll will too, if I live long enough! He is only 5. I suppose like people they are living beyond their usual lifespan so we can expect the same problems. Still think I prefer animals to most people though.

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                    • There is a vast problem from feeding animals on Commercial Animal Food. Most animals will live a lot longer if you feed them the real deal. You know, raw meat and vegetables. This is what they eat in the wild. And it really isn’t difficult to do. You can buy Offal for little more than it costs for those ghastly pellets, which ultimately kill them. But please, don’t pay any attention to me. Just do it because you want to.

                      Charlotte gets rubbish raw meat off cuts and the occasional dinner of raw heart or chopped up raw Herring. No bones, natch. Well, not many. I have got an horrible suspicion that she is going to live for a very long time, and drive me crazy in the process.

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            • Right on. Thailand is my retirement destination, as I have friends going back over twenty years there. My plans are more modest than yours though, as my body only has about 12 MOTs left in it.

              Had I any brains, I’d have come to England after I’d graduated, enjoyed the 80s and the early 90s, and gone back to Australia when a pound bought $2.50. A Pyrrhic victory it would have been, though, it’s worse than here.

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          • You think I can speak French? Well, I suppose that some might be fooled, while others cringe at my ghastly accent, and my neighbours wonder of what I am talking about.

            I once had a Birman cat, and what a dilly she was. She would balance on the lavatory seat or pee down the bath plug hole. But I don’t think she liked me very much. I suspect that I was beneath her dignity.

            Actually, I have only had Charlotte, The Pug, for about one and half years. I rescued her from some indefinable misery. And then she went blind and demented.
            So I never got any real pleasure from her. I stop her from bumping into things by saying, ” Whoops” which is always the word of our day in my house. Poor little soul. I can see it coming before she does. The torturous path from the garden to the house.
            But we do the best that we can.

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  3. Money doesn’t even exist. Bits of paper or numbers on a computer screen. Nothing of value to back it up.

    Correct. I have said so many times. The UK Govt supposedly owes 1.4 Trillion, the USA 14.7 Trillion, the rest of the world? Petty much the same. Who the fuck do they owe it all to? Nobody. It’s all invented.

    A smart friend of mine who is clever with sums helped me out visualising a Trillion Pounds. Don’t think of it as a pile of notes stretching to the Moon and back, or so many warehouses and football fields stuffed full of the stuff. Think of a trillion in terms of time. A trillion seconds adds up to 32,000 years! So if we actually physically wanted to create that “Money” that’s how long it would take one bloke with a printing press and a seriously deformed arm to create it.

    So, quite graphically, you can see that it just doesn’t exist. It is all an Accountancy trick, smoke and mirrors.

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  4. That prick sent me to an illegal war completely unequipped and unprepared. When he dies I’ll be torn between two choices, do I piss or dance on his grave? It may end up being a slightly soggy jig.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Pingback: TB or not TB … What was the question? | Library of Libraries

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