The World Is Run By Satanists And You're Worried About Fox Hunting?
I had a great chat at a party the other day with a Norfolk post office owner. Lovely chap, impressively young (25) to be running his own business, and delightfully awake. He definitely wasn’t going to take any of the jabs; he was well informed about all the so-called ‘conspiracy theories; and though he wasn’t fully down the rabbit hole on every issue - he was lightly agnostic about chemtrails, for example - he was certainly open to all possibilities.
We bonded, I should add, because I overheard him sponging a cigarette from another party guest with the pleasing line: 'Normally I only do this at raves.’
Why am I telling you this? Because someone on my Telegram channel asked me recently what people who go fox hunting are like. Well this is an example. The ‘party’, as I put it, was in fact at the opening meet of my local hunt. As you’d expect, we were all on horses at the time, dressed up in our black hunt coats with white stocks bound tightly round our necks, chugging cherry brandy, sloe gin and heaven knows what else from our hip flasks (which everyone passes round freely, obvs), puffing on our fags, chatting freely, waiting for the stomach-lurching moment when the pack heads off once more and you have to negotiate yet more often unfamiliar terrain at breakneck speed, jumping over whatever obstacles (post and rails, tiger traps, hedges…) accelerate in front of you.
Already, I know some readers will be bridling at my use of the word ‘party’ to describe a disgusting, evil blood sport that involves spoiled toffs taking pleasure in the pursuit and death of an innocent animal.
But that’s because most of them haven’t a clue what happens on a fox hunt. And they don’t want to know either because they’ve already made up their minds. They know that foxes are cute critters with handsome bushy tails and winning ingenuity because they’ve all read Fantastic Mr Fox and/or seen the movie. They know that fox-hunting people are snarling, sadistic, red-faced toffs because that’s what they’ve been told by the Guardian, the RSPCA and The League Against Cruel Sports. ‘Our feelings don’t care about your facts,’ is their motto. And if you’re one of them, you might as well stop reading now because there’s just no point. You’re as bad as one of those people who, even now, insists that the jab is ‘safe and effective’…
That last jibe, by the way, was aimed at all those who claim to be ‘awake’ yet still think it’s OK to be appalled by the existence of fox hunting.
Wait, what? So, you live in a world where: they faked a pandemic to destroy small businesses, terrify, corral and immiserate the populace, cover up decades of financial skullduggery and enrich their pals in the ineffably corrupt Big Pharma industry; they’ve used lies and blackmail to jab beloved members of your family, your friends and their children with an experimental gene therapy cocktail brimful of toxic ingredients which stand a good chance of killing, maiming or sterilising them; they’re currently arranging a global Holodomor which will cause starvation, death and mass civil unrest; they’re pushing hard for a Third World War over Russia because that was what Albert Pike always wanted, they’re massively into blood sacrifices and anyway, it will be a cool distraction from all that growing vaccine-damage awareness; they’re about to collapse the financial system and replace it with Central Bank Digital Currencies which will remove our last vestige of freedom and turn us all into slaves.
If you’re awake, you know all this. You’re likely aware of even more stomach-churning stuff like the extent of Satanic Ritual Abuse, the child-trafficking and adrenochrome industries. And you’re most certainly aware that literally nothing of the official narrative about the nature of the world can be trusted because the mainstream media, Hollywood, TV, the advertising industries, the schools, the universities, the government departments, the charities, the think tanks are all part of the lie machine.
You know all this. You’ve lost friends over it. You’ve gone to the barricades for it. And yet somehow, the small voice in your head has persuaded you: ‘Well I know they lied to me about Covid, the ‘vaccines’, seed oils, fluoride, amalgam fillings, the Moon Landings, 9/11, the origins of the First and Second World Wars, AIDs, free markets, meat, climate change, glyphosate, polio, Ukraine, dinosaurs, democracy and the Beatles. But I’m still going to swallow the official narrative about fox hunting being cruel and horrid and having no place in the 21st century and all the other stuff I got told by Tony Blair, various Labour MPs, Chris Packham, everyone else on the BBC, and all the animal rights campaign groups which would never lie to me about anything because people who love animals are lovely.’
Right.
Well I’m not going to waste time rehearsing all the arguments in favour of hunting - everything from the necessity of pest control to protect the farmed livestock that keeps us fed to the fact that there are many, many worse (and more likely) ways for a (usually sick, old or injured) wild creature to die than a bite on the neck by the lead hound - because they’ve been rehearsed so often before and because, to my ears, they sound needlessly apologetic and defensive.
Rather instead I want to make a few observations that rarely get made on this issue - because hunting folk are forever on the back foot, defending themselves against people who hate them because they have been programmed to do so - about what hunting is like and about the people who do it.
The people who go hunting, I’d say, are more than usually brave - because going fast across uneven terrain on a powerful, excitable beast which could kill you any second is not for the faint-hearted. That’s partly why you drink, to give yourself Dutch Courage. Even when you’ve had a few, it’s still so terrifying that you feel quite sick with nerves until you’ve had your first gallop and taken your first couple of jumps.
They’re also more than usually open-minded because, thanks to Tony Blair - who instituted the hunting ban - they’ve effectively been outlawed by the system and turned into natural rebels. Establishment they definitely ain’t. How many members of the Establishment can you name who still hunt? They’ve given up because it’s bad optics - leaving the field to the diehards, the incorrigibles, the don’t-tread-on-mes.
How do you think my conversations go when I’m out hunting? Well I’ll tell you about the opening meet. I started with the history of the Federal Reserve; moved on a bit later to the evils of vaccines and fluoride; and closed with Ritual Satanic Abuse and chemtrails. People are much more open to these things on a hunt because they have so many fewer prejudices than you’d find elsewhere. They judge you on important stuff like how happy you are on your horse, not on irrelevances like whether or not you’re venturing a ‘different opinion.’
Hunting brings out the best in people. It enhances their love of nature, of the landscape, of animals - not just their mount (on whom their life depends) and the hounds, but, yes, even the fox (which they love and respect as much as any bunny-hugging anti, only without the cloying and ignorant sentimentality). It binds rural communities. It promotes courage, kinship, cameraderie. It’s also - almost my favourite thing of all about it - the most extraordinary leveller: whether you’re a six-year old on her pony, a Duke on his £30,000 hunter, a farmer in his rat catcher or a humble blogger, the jumps are just as big, the wind and rain just as miserable, the risks just as great. When you chat you chat on equal terms.
And isn’t this the kind of world, ultimately, that we want to live in? One where courage, skill, fun, conversation, love of the natural world, community, camaraderie, and genuine - not forced - equality are celebrated in the pursuit of traditions long sanctioned by time and custom?
I’m not asking you to love hunting. What I am asking you to do, very much, is to get a grip and get a sense of perspective.