Friday, May 2, 2025
Haiku Time
Friday, August 9, 2024
Words Are Violence Or Are They
Have you noticed, dear readers, all two of you, that the Left, and it is the Left, have supercharged words? Perhaps you have. In the formerly united Kingdom of quondam Great Britain you can be arrested and sent to gaol for words. Say the wrong thing, go to prison, criminal. You can even, they threaten, be extradited. Yes, extradited to Belmarsh and put in solitary for WRONGTHINK, because of your words. Like wow, we've come to this.
Granted, some words are nasty, I try to avoid them on this mind-blog, but still, does LSP writing SEND THEM BACK DEPORT THEM YOU TRAITORS = a punch in the face, an head butt or a glass inna face, Kray Twins style? Hardly. One is most definitely violent and the other is cognitive, an assault to the mind.
Sure, that can and does hurt, but are the two comparable? Imagine, if you like, 50 divisions of Putler's Thought Police Troll Farms spewing disinfo across the internet. Disaster. Just like the OPERATION BARBAROSSA, except that it's most obviously not.
Several things. First: The Left believes reality is a construct and so they attempt to govern it through speech. Resist this linguistic tyranny at every turn, it's bogus thought despotism.
Second: People that don't believe in Truth will peddle lies, constantly. Again, resist this with the Truth. Cold hard facts wreak havoc with their rainbow Marxist, tin-pot Maoist imaginations.
Third: They're utter idiots. No, words are not violent, dumbasses, like a knife in the gut or a howitzer raining down hell on your position, so call them out. Just say no.
Fourth: Going to war over mere words betrays brittle insecurity. Take heart in that. If they weren't worried they wouldn't be taking refuge in WORD POLICE. For goodness sake.
Monday, October 30, 2023
Thursday, February 16, 2023
On To Ludlow
All too soon it was time to leave the rain washed, windswept streets of the Athens of the North and the comfort of the Royal Scots and head to Ludlow. I rode the rails to this charming market town, once home to the Council of the Marches and a key defensive point against savage Welsh raiders.
Today the town's less about beating back the ferocious Welsh and recalcitrant nobility and more about butchers, bakers, fishmongers, green grocers, outstanding late Medieval and Georgian architecture and... pubs. We liked the Blue Boar, with its fire and mostly peaceful ambiance.
And walking too. If you go to this gem of a border town, take time to stroll around the castle, the river and, if you're feeling adventurous, climb up into the hills above the town. I asked my friends if there were bears in the woods, apparently there aren't, but we did see a large buzzard which reminded me of home. As did a view of the Malverns, which I used to be able to see from my bedroom window as teenager in Cheltenham. Memories.
Speaking of which, on the last day there, my old boss MCP drove over to visit at the Blue Boar. Onetime poacher turned gamekeeper in the IT world of the '90s and '00s, he's become an author and published a book to critical acclaim in Dublin. It's called Long Lost Log and details his adventures sailing across the Atlantic as crew in an eccentric "thoroughbred" of a boat in 1974. What a lot of fun to meet up.
So well done MCP and big thanks to S&K for great Shropshire hospitality. And now? Back to London for a few days before heading home to Texas.
Cheers,
LSP
Saturday, July 22, 2017
Infest-ival, A Guest Post By Jules Smith
I went armed with notebook, pen, camera and a vat of hand sanitiser. And here I am, thankfully still alive but not without the help of aspirin and bottles of home-brewed cider to erase the alarming visuals.