James Delingpole
Politics • Writing • Culture
Erudite but accessible; warm and witty; definitely not woke
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Michelle Davies

James catches up with old friend and ‘Osteo’, Michelle Davies.

www.themichelledavies.com
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Good Food Project

James talks to Jane from the excellent ‘Good Food Project’.

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The Good Food Project would like to offer Delingpod listeners a 10% discount off their first order with them (including free delivery for orders over £50).  This will be applied by adding DELINGPOLE10 at checkout.

http://www.goodfoodproject.co.uk/

They would also like to offer your subscribers a special discount off the virtual tickets for the event we are hosting with Barbara O Neill in Crieff next week. The promo code is: delingpole10

https://goodfoodproject.zohobackstage.eu/BarbaraONeillHealthSummit#/buyTickets?promoCode=delingpole10

This virtual ticket allows you to watch any session live – there are 4 x 1hour sessions on each of the four days and the full agenda is here

https://goodfoodproject.zohobackstage.eu/BarbaraONeillHealthSummit#/agenda?day=1&lang=en

After the event you will be sent a link with access to all 16 of Barbara’s sessions and the other speakers to download and keep.

The discount ...

01:36:43
David Icke

Delingpod LIVE: 15th November 2023, Manchester

Finally, in lavish technicolour, the confrontation you've all been waiting for: Delingpole v Icke. It wasn't meant to be this way. The plan was for it to be an entertaining conversation between two truthers about their respective journeys down the rabbit hole. But something went badly wrong. Listen in to decide for yourself what the problem was - and whether you're now Team Delingpole or Team Icke...Very kindly sponsored by Hunter & Gather:https://hunterandgatherfoods.com

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If you need silver and gold bullion - and who wouldn't in these ...

02:01:02
DelingpodLIVE: Clive de Carle

UPCOMING LIVE EVENT with the great Clive de Carle, the first time I’ve brought the Delingpod to Dorset! With time for networking after. Don’t miss it!

28th July in Dorset, tickets are on sale tomorrow morning at 7:30am from the link below:

https://eventbrite.co.uk/e/670815646657

00:01:48
Yes. Everything Is A Conspiracy. Even Trump

‘Not everything is a conspiracy,’ people sometimes say to me, as if this were some kind of startling, original perception that had never occurred to me before.

I think what we have here is a tonal comprehension problem.

Of course, when I say that ‘everything is a conspiracy’ I don’t literally mean that ‘everything is a conspiracy.’

Horses, for example. They’re probably not a conspiracy. Nor, I don’t think, are flowers, honey, the Book of Psalms, swimming in the sea or dogs. Cats might be: I’m not so sure about them, the way that they have persuaded us to stroke them and wait on them hand and foot while they lounge around doing absolutely sod all except dragging the occasional dead bird or mouse into the house which we’re supposed to welcome as a gift.

So, yes, there are exceptions to the rule. But generally my point is well made. Everything really is a conspiracy and we need to deal with this fact rather than seek to persuade ourselves otherwise with cosy pieties that are about as helpful as clinging to your childhood comfort blanket when you’re ...


RIP Paul Godsland

This is a very short tribute to a master from my old school, Malvern, who has just died at what I consider to be the stupidly young age of 65.

Paul Godsland was a bright lad from the North East, a languages graduate fresh out of university (Queen’s, Oxford, I seem to remember. This was the era when 90 per cent of staff in public schools, certainly mine, were Oxbridge) and I think he felt slightly awkward being surrounded by what he considered to be toffs. Dick and I took a shine to him and eased him in. We even took him on a skiing holiday with us.

My mother, who was very much a Yummy Mummy at the time used to tease him rotten on parents’ evenings. “Oh I do LOVE you Mister Godspell”, she would say, and would terrify him by giving him hugs.

Later, when my daughter was at Malvern, he was still there - clearly having got used to all those not-toffs-really - as head of discipline. A slightly sinister title but he did perform a much-needed task well: stopping the kids looking too ...

They Killed Your Business, Murdered Your Parents and Destroyed Your Health. But It's OK: The Guy Responsible Has Written an Hilarious Memoir

How can you tell when (former Mayor of London and UK Prime Minister) Boris Johnson is lying? When you see his lips moving, of course. But also, I was reminded just now, when you read the words he has dashed off for some ludicrously inflated sum of money staring up from the pages of the newspaper you almost vomited on in disgust.

Like you I don’t read newspapers. Just occasionally, though, I’ll find my eye drawn to particularly emetic headlines like this one from the Mail on Sunday: “It saved lives, but now I’m not sure lockdown works.” This turned out to be an extract from Johnson’s autobiography, Unleashed, which the paper was billing as ‘the political memoir of the century’.

I read on, curious to see exactly how Johnson would gloss over the period when, as British prime minister, he played a key role in perhaps the most illiberal mass experiment in history: the drastic restrictions on movement and free association imposed on the world’s eight billion populace, ostensibly designed to arrest the spread of a supposedly deadly and ...

Sorry. Donald Trump Is Not Gandalf

Donald Trump has won, as I knew he would. And if I were still the same person I was four years ago that sentence would have been a cause for jubilation.

Unfortunately, I’m not the same person.

Four years ago, more or less, was the beginning of my Awakening. I was absolutely incensed that my hero, the Donald, our only remaining hope against the Deep State and the encroaching New World Order had been so blatantly cheated out of his rightful victory by an incontinent, demented, child-sniffing paedo in the pay of the Chinese.

Happily, I knew that all the checks and balances that made the United States the world’s foremost democracy would soon come into play and that either the state courts or, if necessary, the Supreme Court would step in to ensure that justice would prevail.

So I waited.

And I waited.

And I waited.

And while I was waiting the first inklings of doubt began to creep into my deeply troubled mind. “What if the thing I want to happen never happens?”

Then: “What if the thing I want to happen never happens because the world isn’t at all how I thought it was?”

This is how most of us begin our journey down the rabbit hole. First the trauma: a REALLY, REALLY BAD THING HAS HAPPENED AND IT’S TERRIBLE AND I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO SEEMS TO CARE OR EVEN TO HAVE NOTICED!

Then, the struggle to make sense of the traumatic thing.

Finally, the acceptance and the accompanying realisation that nothing will ever be the same again. You now have to unlearn everything you have learned and begin a journey of understanding which will take up the rest of your life.

One of the many, many things I’ve learned since is that all presidents are selected not elected. And that includes the ones that your old self might have thought exempt like good old wisecracking Ronnie Reagan who came up - allegedly - with all those wonderfully unpresidential one liner funnies, and did something badass with those pesky air traffic controllers, and pretended to be the enemy of Big Government. Nope. He was one of them too. They all are.

And yes. So - dur - is Donald Trump.

This doesn’t mean, not for one second!, that I am not greatly enjoying the wailing and gnashing of all the Trump haters. Nor that I don’t want Bono to stick to his promise that if Trump won he would drive his car off a cliff. Nor that I don’t think Trump would be preferable to Kamala.

But Trump is only preferable to Kamala in the sense that treading in fresh cow poo is preferable to treading in fresh dog poo.

There are some things I like about Trump: the way he annoys so many of the people who need to be annoyed; the fact that he is going to end the war in Ukraine; the fact that he is probably going to use cheap US energy as a weapon of economic war, which will make countries that have gone big on renewables - eg the UK - look even more suicidally stupid than they did already.

That’s how these designated leaders work, though. They have to say and do things that at least some of us agree with some of the time - see Reagan saying funny things, above - so that they can promote the illusion that voting makes a difference.

Which it doesn’t, of course. Everything is planned, way in advance, and at a level far, far higher than Punch and Judy stalls like the Oval Office. The war in Ukraine, for example, will end not because Trump has a rapport with Vladimir Putin and understands that the whole enterprise is just a meat grinder which has cost the lives of hundreds of thousands to zero purpose, but because that’s just the latest stage of The Plan.

Lots of jubilant Trump voters still don’t want to believe this for reasons I can well understand because four years ago I was just like them and thought Trump was the only man capable of saving the world. Trump, I believed, really was different: the maverick outsider who took the system by surprise.

When you start to wake up to how bad the world really is, you long desperately for someone who might appear on the horizon like Gandalf the White at Helm's Deep and save the last great citadel from falling.

Sorry. Trump is not Gandalf. Nor is anyone else. Gandalf is a fictional character invented by JRR Tolkien and would never even get nominated in a US Presidential election because he doesn’t serve the forces of darkness.

I’m not saying Trump is as evil as the warlock Obama or the witch Hillary. He probably serves Lucifer rather than Satan (insofar as that distinction has any meaning).

But look, one day some of you who got really cross with me when I pointed out that the Trump assassination attempts were staged are going belatedly to realise that I was right all along and are going to feel slightly embarrassed about having been so naive.

As for the ones who never realise that the guy who fast-tracked the death jab never had your best interests at heart, I’ve only one small request to make if you wouldn’t mind. Could you give me the name of your supplier?

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Valencia: Man Made Climate Change is REAL
Or: Why I No Longer Talk to Climate Sceptics

I’m about to bring out a revised edition of Watermelons, a book I wrote over a decade ago exposing the man-made global warming industry as a gigantic lie machine advancing the agenda of super-rich Malthusian psychopaths who want to turn the world into a giant slave economy.

But there was one key detail I got wrong which I now intend to correct. In the original version, I claimed that man-made climate change wasn’t real. Of course it is, though. Look at Valencia…

Or, indeed, look at North Carolina after Hurricane Helene. Or Florida after Hurricane Milton. Or, come to that, look out of your window right now, if it’s daylight, and admire all those white lines criss-crossing your skies and marvel at the gobsmacking fact that even now, even after all this evidence so blatant they might have got one of those skywriting aeroplanes to scrawl in rainbow smoke “This is what chemtrails look like, you morons!”, most people in the world still think this is normal.

My own view is that none of us, anywhere, save possibly at outposts like Rothschild Island in Antarctica, has seen what normal weather looks like for a very, very long time - possibly not even since we were born.

Perhaps I’m exaggerating a bit: for example, I definitely don’t remember in my childhood seeing airliners that produced vapour trails which didn’t quickly disappear but which rather lingered in the skies, slowly spreading, before forming a blanket of impenetrable and dispiriting gray cloud.

On the other hand, they’ve had this weather altering technology for a very long time, probably since at least the Second World War, so I think it’s unlikely that they wouldn’t have been experimenting on us with it ever since.

One of the earliest reported examples of this weather manipulation is the Lynmouth Flood disaster of 1952 which claimed the lives of 32 people in Devon, England. This, it was later admitted, was the result of a cloud-seeding experiment by the Royal Air Force.

I think after Lynmouth The Powers That Be learned their lesson: if you’re going to carry on spraying the clouds, flooding towns and killing members of the public - and you are - don’t let on that you’re doing it; instead, let the message slowly seep out that anyone who believes their government would do crazy stuff like cloud-seeding, geoengineering, weather manipulation and so on is a paranoid conspiracy theorist.

This strategy has worked, clearly. Even though universities now offer courses in geo-engineering, and even though expert witnesses have testified in Congress about the reality - and ongoing menace - of weather manipulation, and even though whistleblowers have confirmed that chemtrails are definitely a thing, most people still labour under the cognitive dissonance of thinking that none of this stuff is true.

What I find particularly interesting, as a veteran combatant of the climate wars, is the reluctance of my old, climate sceptical comrades to acknowledge the role of chemtrails, the use of Directed Energy Weapons and such like in generating extreme weather events.

These are not the kind of people who normally back down from a fight. We’re talking about scientists and journalists who’ve been vilified, marginalised, defunded, even had their careers destroyed because they dared stand up to the Climate Industrial Complex and refused to accept the fake science of Man Made Global Warming.

Unfortunately, one of the greatest weapons in their armoury is being used against them.

Let me explain. It is an article of faith among climate sceptics that dramatic fluctuations in climate are nothing new - and that they certainly pre-date so-called ‘man-made’ global warming. They are, of course, perfectly correct on this point and I have made it many times myself, including in Watermelons. Whenever climate alarmists shriek “B-b-but catastrophically rising temperatures in the post industrial era”, we climate sceptics like to remind them of the balmy era when the Romans were growing grapes as far north as Hadrian’s Wall; and of the Medieval Warming Period (which alarmists have tried hard to claim never existed), whose fruitful benignity coincided with an explosion in scholarship and artistic expression (because when people aren’t starving or freezing to death culture flourishes).

The same goes for floods, hurricanes, wildfires and all the other extreme weather events that alarmists - and the compliant MSM - like to tell us are the result of climate change, climate chaos or, as they once tried desperately to brand it, ‘global weirding.’ What climate sceptics usually point out in response is that extreme weather events will always be happening somewhere in the world and have done since time immemorial.

So it has been with the Valencia floods, which have now claimed hundreds of lives. The alarmists - of course - have been busy trying to pin the floods on man-made ‘climate change’. And various sceptics on social media, as you’d expect, have been fighting back by pointing out that in 1957 Valencia suffered floods at least as bad caused by a day of even heavier precipitation. Indeed, Valencia has reportedly experienced as many as 75 such floods since 1257.

This, then, is the nub of the climate sceptic argument: climate has always been changing; extreme weather events have always happened; therefore the notion that there is anything unusual or worrying or man-made about climate change or extreme weather events since the industrial age is dishonest and misleading.

It’s a good argument. A strong argument. In fact it’s so well supported - by history, geography, the temperature record, the rainfall record, the archives, eye-witness testimony and, for what it’s worth, ‘the science’ - you might say it was a position as impregnable as the Maginot Line.

But we all know what happened to the Maginot Line, don’t we? This is the problem when your position becomes too entrenched: you become complacent; even cocky; and you render yourself vulnerable to outflanking movements.

That’s probably why I no longer talk to climate sceptics. They are brave, decent, principled people but they are doomed by a fatal flaw: their dogged integrity. They believe that this is a debate which will ultimately won on facts - which it won’t be because the game is rigged and always has been by an enemy far, far more evil, cunning and manipulative than they realise.

Nowhere is this naivety more pronounced than on the issue of man-made weather. Deep state whistleblowers tell us that the technology at the disposal of the world’s elites is at least 70 years more advanced than anything they will admit to in public. I suspect that this is the case with almost all the weather atrocity porn you see in the newspapers, in TV documentaries and so on. The wildfires, the floods, the hurricanes, the ice storms are sold to us as further evidence of the chaos caused by anthropogenic CO2 emissions. But the truth is that this stuff is man-made, only in a completely different way: generated by the secretive, usually military-linked institutions behind HAARP, NEXRAD, the worldwide Chemtrailing programme and - a speciality of Trump’s Space Force, this one - Directed Energy Weapons.

This artificial weather serves a number of nefarious purposes. It keeps the ‘climate change’ issue in the public eye; it escalates the Cabal’s war on farmers and the food supply; it contributes to the population cull; it enables the Cabal to carry out semi-legitimised land grabs on territory - eg Lahaina, Hawaii - that would otherwise be protected by private property rights; it can be used as a weapon of war (the torrential rain in Vietnam’s Central Highlands during the war, gruellingly chronicled in the excellent novel Matterhorn, was likely geo-engineered); it enforces geopolitical blackmail: countries that won’t play ball with the desired agenda can find themselves suffering unexpected earthquakes or tsunamis or, as in Valencia, floods.

That last detail, especially, is exactly the kind of thing that gives mainstream climate sceptics conniptions and has them muttering: “Get me away from this madman!” Climate sceptics, remember, are already outsiders who have been punished greatly for standing up against the official narrative. The last thing they want is to have what remains of their credibility shredded by association with the kind of bat-shit-crazy loons who actually believe that there are people in the world so evil and powerful that they can actually create earthquakes and use them as a weapon of terror.

But what if such people and such technologies exist? (Spoiler alert: they do!) What you then have is the rather unfortunate situation we’re in today. You have climate sceptics who pride themselves on their honesty and integrity yet choosing convenience and social acceptability over the truth. In other words, they’ve started to act like their much less scrupulous opponents have always done.

This is sad but also kind of inevitable. The tiny, tiny minority of people who run the world - just the scions and associates of a few super evil families, basically - do so on the basis of divide and rule. So long as they can keep the masses distracted with pointless squabbles which ultimately go nowhere, the Cabal are never going to have deal with any serious opposition.

The debate between climate sceptics and climate alarmists is just another example of this.They’re so busy arguing over almost immeasurably trivial issues like whether or not human CO2 emissions are changing the climate (answer: NO) that they’ve no time to look up at all those white lines criss-crossing the sky, or the truly bizarre behaviour of the weather fronts gathering around those HAARP and NEXRAD facilities, and go: “Wait! This is what REAL man-made climate change looks like. And it’s absolutely bloody terrifying!”

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Rivers of Blood: First They Showed Us Our Future; Then the Gaslighting Began...
If ever you’re in the mood to frighten yourself out of your wits, then I cannot recommend more highly this podcast conversation between John Waters and Michael Yon. https://odysee.com/@johnwaters:7/anhonestconversation:3

It appears to confirm what a lot of us have suspected from time to time but have then dismissed as so scary it couldn’t possibly be true: yes, all those fighting-age men that our governments have mysteriously been allowing to creep across our borders and to be housed and maintained at our expense really are being imported in order to kill us.

I shan’t rehearse the depressing details, which are examined more than well enough in the pod. Rather, I want to try to answer the question: “How did we let it happen?”

More specifically, “How did our nations plumb such depths of stupidity and dumb, cattle-to-the-slaughter acquiescence as to have reached the point where hundreds of thousands of trained killers can be imported into their midst with barely a ripple of complaint from the invaded, occupied and eventually-to-be-massacred populace?”

As Exhibit A let me present an old edition of Desert Island Discs which I happened to listen to for the first time the other day on a long car journey. The guest was former Conservative MP Enoch Powell (who recorded it in 1989, nine years before his death in 1998.) You can listen to the episode here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p009mf3s

Desert Island Discs, I should explain for the benefit of non-British readers, is one of the BBC’s longest-running and most popular upmarket radio entertainment programmes. Each week a famous or distinguished ‘castaway’ is invited on to reminisce about their life and talk about how they imagine they would cope if alone on a desert island. They name the six favourite pieces of music they would like to take with them, their favourite book and their preferred ‘luxury item.’

Enoch Powell, I should also explain for the benefit of non-British readers, is possibly the most infamous figure in 20th century British politics. Children are taught, almost from birth, to revile him as the monster who in 1968 made a speech so inflammatory and racist - immortalised as the “Rivers of Blood” speech - that it rendered the public discussion of mass immigration off limits for at least one generation and possibly two or three.

But even in my Normie days, I recall not altogether buying the official narrative on Powell. For one thing, I knew from the Black Country side of my family that Powell had been a hugely popular constituency MP in the seat of Wolverhampton South West. People referred to him locally as “Our Enoch” - and not, I felt, because they were all rabid racists who knew a fellow rabid racist when they saw one. Rather, I think, it was because they felt he understood them and cared for them and worked for their best interests.

This is quite surprising, given the second thing I knew about Enoch Powell: that he was a fearsomely bright classical scholar with the kind of rarefied intellect (and correspondingly stiff, awkward manner) that normally goes down like a cup of cold sick with your typical piss-taking Black Countryman. Clearly, through their instinctive suspicion, they recognised something truly remarkable in him.

And Powell was remarkable. He rose from a fairly modest Midlands background to gain the top classics scholarship to Trinity, Cambridge. His mother had taught him Greek in two weeks and by the time he won his scholarship to King Edwards, Birmingham, he was known to be far ahead of any of his teachers. Though I do generally dislike quoting from Wikipedia, this paragraph on his Cambridge scholarship exam, which he sat aged seventeen in December 1929, is a gem.

“Sir Ronald Melville, who sat the exams at the same time, recalled that ‘the exams mostly lasted three hours. Powell left the room halfway through each of them’. Powell later told Melville that, in one-and-a-half hours on the Greek paper, he translated the text into Thucydides’s style of Greek and then in the style of Herodotus. For another paper, Powell also had to translate a passage from Bede, which he did in Platonic Greek. In the remaining time, Powell later remembered, ‘I tore it up and translated it again into Herodotean Greek - Ionic Greek - (which I had never written before) and then, still having time to spare, I proceeded to annotate it.”

The final interesting thing I knew about Powell was the trivia quiz fact that he was one of only two British servicemen - the other being Fitzroy Maclean - who during the War had risen through the military ranks all the way from private to brigadier. As with the first two interesting things, I found this to be a puzzling anomaly: how was it possible that someone so talented, capable and weirdly popular could yet also be the Twentieth Century’s most malign and notorious MP?

It made no sense, I now realise, because the very public destruction and humilation of Enoch Powell was yet another Cabal psyop. Like Lee Harvey Oswald, like Gavrilo Princip, like Muammar Gadaffi, Powell was one of history’s fall guys selected for calumny by the Powers That Be in order to achieve a desired effect and push a particular narrative.

The desired effect, in this case, was to counter and neutralise the British people’s perfectly natural disinclination to accept mass immigration. The narrative to be promoted was that being anti-immigration - even just thinking about it, let alone saying it publicly - was abhorrent, despicable, uncivilised, unnatural and wrong because it meant that you were ‘racist.’

What’s quite funny listening to Enoch Powell’s Desert Island Discs is that he clearly never accepted the role allotted him by the fake history lie machine. Sue Lawley the presenter (who has poshed up her accent but actually comes from an ordinary Black Country background not so far from Powell’s) variously tries to cajole, charm and bully Powell into admitting that he is the monster her BBC employers would like him to be. But Powell just isn’t having it.

When Lawley accuses Powell of having a sinister appearance, he politely - and bemusedly - replies that this is simply one of those tics of facial expression which we all acquire, one way or another.
When she insinuates that his family probably find him terrifying he replies that, au contraire, his grandchildren adore him, that he generally has a way with children, and that his wife must surely find something in him to have endured him all these years.

As for the ‘Rivers of Blood’ speech itself, Powell points out that he was doing no more than reiterating his party’s own policy, which in 1968 was to repatriate immigrants. When Lawley, unable to suppress her BBC sneer, insinuates that really it was those immigrants’ ‘skin colour’ that most bothered Powell, he replies that if Indians had been asked to accept an influx 40 million white people - the proportionate equivalent - they might feel they had just as much of a right to complain.

The conventional view on Enoch Powell that he was a brilliant man who yet never achieved the political eminence that could have been his because of that appalling error of judgement in his speech on immigration.

But like so much of what passes for history it is based on a huge lie. When Powell made that speech all he was doing was stating the obvious: that if you are going to import large numbers of people with different cultural and religious values into an established nation with its own very distinct identity, traditions and moral codes there are going to be unfortunate repercussions. His crime - and it was only a crime because the bought-and-paid-for media conspired shrilly to declare it a crime - was to have embellished his point by making a characteristic literary reference to Virgil’s Aeneid: “As I look ahead, I am filled with foreboding; like the Roman, I seem to see ‘the River Tiber foaming with much blood.’
“Your own party leader Edward Heath said it was inflammatory’, goads Lawley.
This, for those listeners in the know, is a cherishable moment.

Heath was a paedophile and a murderer - possibly, though in a pretty tight field given that he’s up against the likes of Tony Blair, Britain’s most nakedly demonic prime minister.  Heath inveigled boys from care homes onto his yacht, Morning Cloud, and, having sexually abused them, killed them - or had them killed - before disposing of their bodies in the sea.

Lawley was likely unaware of these awkward facts when she brandished Heath as some kind of moral authority to prove her virtue-signalling point on Desert Island Discs. Still, you’ve got to love the irony.
But this, habitues of the rabbit hole will know, is often the way of things. The people celebrated by history as our greatest heroes are invariably the worst wrong ‘uns (that’ll be you, inter alia, Winston Churchill). And the people who’ve been relentlessly sold to us as the bad guys quite often turn out to have been goodies.

Was Enoch Powell, then, a goodie? We’ll come to that in a moment. But he certainly gives a plausible account of himself in that Lawley interview. The impression you get is of a man decent and honest to the point of naivety who still generously assumes that the way he was so ruthlessly and cynically stitched up by the Powers That Be was just one of those things that could have happened to anyone in the tricksy realm of politics.

It really wasn’t though. This was a deliberately planned and orchestrated historical moment designed to push a specific agenda. What’s fascinating, looking back at that period through Awake eyes, is realising just how close They came to losing control of the argument, how hard They had to work to wrest it desperately back and shape it towards their desired end.

The problem for the Powers That Be was that Powell’s message - mass immigration was going to be a disaster - was extremely popular with the electorate. In fact, it was probably the reason Satanic Ted Heath and his Conservatives won the 1970 General Election - despite the fact that Heath had repudiated Powell’s alleged ‘racialism’ by sacking him from his shadow cabinet.

In a poll taken shortly after Powell’s speech, 74 per cent of those surveyed said they agreed with what he’d said. Can you imagine that happening today? Almost certainly, you can’t. But not, I suspect, because most of the native population don’t feel just the same way in their bones. Rather, it’s that in the subsequent half century they have been subjected to such extensive and thorough conditioning that they are no longer capable of even expressing their own thoughts. “Racism”, they have been trained to think, is so manifestly abhorrent as to require the most stringent self-censorship.

This is the reason we are where we are today. Not because people are too stupid to realise it’s a bad idea to ship lots of fit, well-trained-looking, military-aged foreigners into the country, maintain them at taxpayers’ expense in small hotels and hostels in every town, all behind a massive wall of silence from the political and media class. But because most people would now quite literally rather die than be considered ‘racist’.

The ‘Rivers of Blood’ psyop was a key element in that brainwashing programme. It treated British people like hungry dogs in a cage desperate for meat. (I suppose in this analogy the meat they hungered for would be a combination ‘truth’ and ‘having a meaningful say on the kind of country they would like to live in’). What the Powers That Be did at this moment was to place huge bleeding chunks of that meat just outside the cage - and then electrified the bars of the cage. Every time the dogs - the British people - tried to stick their noses through the cage bars they would be given an electric shock. And so, little by little, they would come to accept that ‘truth’ and ‘having a meaningful say on the kind of country they would like to live in’ had been rendered totally off limit for them.

In order to achieve this goal, the Powers That Be first had to fake up the outrage and drama surrounding Powell’s speech, in much the same way that their modern equivalents did recently over those three children allegedly murdered by an immigrant in Southport. The corrupt media played a major part in this: so, for example, the Times - edited by the ineffably rank and compromised Cabal lackey William Rees Mogg - did its bit with an editorial declaring it ‘an evil speech’ and saying ‘This is the first time that a serious British politician has appealed to racial hatred in this direct way in our postwar history.’ And the tabloids did theirs by bigging up the supposed increase in racial hate incidents which had allegedly resulted from Powell’s speech.

Unless you’re wise to the game being played it’s quite easy to be taken in. But once you know how these things work it becomes transparent to the point of comical obviousness. Essentially, the rule is this: the truth is whatever the slippery, mendacious, bought-and-paid-for media declares it to be. So, if a tree falls in a forest and the media - or rather its shadowy controllers - says it didn’t fall then pretty soon it will become an established and eternal fact that that tree is still standing upright. Anyone who suggests otherwise, even the people who vividly recall personally chopping down that tree with axes and chainsaws, will be marginalised, ridiculed, ignored.

This is what happened with Powell’s speech. It only became notorious because it had been pre-decided it should become notorious and therefore the media declared it to be notorious. Under other circumstances it would have gone unreported and would quickly have been forgotten, as most political speeches are.

What’s so diabolically effective about this process is that most people in this evil lie machine are acting in good faith. They simply have no idea that they are pushing the agenda of a tiny, psychopathic, misanthropic Cabal hell bent on divide and rule. I know this, because I used to be one of those innocent dupes myself.

My job, as a comment journalist, did I but know it, was to gold-plate and copper-bottom all the various lies we have been told by academics, newspapers, historians and so on over the years. This is the real purpose of anniversary pieces and think pieces on epochal events, like, say, 9/11. Once the fake facts have been established as truth, you as a comment journalist or a think piece writer then cement these fake facts in the public imagination by reminding everyone, every now and again, about how evil and stary Mohammad Atta’s eyes were, or how tragic those final telephone recordings were from the doomed passengers were, or how heroic the story of the singing Cornishman was.
Every shade of opinion on any subject is represented in the mainstream media: but only so long as it doesn’t get too close to the knuckle.

Over the years since Rivers of Blood, for example, you might have read the odd article by designated right-wing Blimp characters like Simon Heffer expressing cautious sympathy, even mild admiration for Powell. They might go so far as to say he was misunderstood, or misrepresented, or unlucky. And they will all dutifully repeat the accepted nonsense that Powell’s words were so contentious, inflammable and divisive that they rendered reasonable discussion of the immigration issue quite impossible for the next few decades.

But what you’ll never ever get from any commentator of bottom or influence is anything approaching the truth: that in 1968, a prominent politician was publicly humiliated in an utterly fake controversy over which no one would have batted an eyelid (“Politician makes speech, shock”) if they hadn’t been ordered to do so by a co-ordinated series of newspaper headlines.

The purpose of this cooked-up furore was to soften up the British populace for successive waves of mass immigration from Commonwealth countries. Various excuses were offered for this mass immigration - ‘they’ll do the jobs native British people refuse to do’, ‘they’ll help support an ageing population’, ‘they’ll boost GDP’, etc. If the British people had known what was really behind all this, there would have been a revolution.

Mass immigration was being imposed on them to divide, weaken and ultimately destroy them. All the stuff about melting pots and the joys of diversity were just handy, distracting slogans. The native population - and indeed immigrants who’d now settled and consider themselves British - were never going to be consulted on this. And even if they were, their politicians were in no position to respond to their needs because those politicians were just puppets of the Predator Class.

The people who really called the shots had decided long ago - in the Coudenhove-Kalergi Plan of the 1920s, for example - that through a process of demographic attrition known as ‘white replacement’ the national identities of once proud, independent and distinctive European nations could be diluted and weakened to the point where they were no longer capable of resisting One World Government. This is roughly where we are now.

Try telling that to Simon Heffer next time you bump into him at a dinner party. And if you do, please take a video of him blustering about the utter insanity of your conspiracy theory. This is how people in the mainstream media think. As I say, I know this because I used to think that way myself.
So Enoch Powell: a good man hung out to dry by the Cabal for telling the truth?

Not quite, much as I’d like to think so given that among his other qualities, he was a dedicated fox-hunting man.

But he was also a raging paedo who abused his prestige and influence to secure the unwilling sexual services of hapless boys from care homes such as Kincora in Northern Ireland. Read on, here, for all the grisly details https://villagemagazine.ie/suffer-little-children/
So no, Enoch Powell wasn’t one of history’s cruelly misrepresented good guys. He wasn’t one of ours. He was yet another one of theirs.

 

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