James Delingpole
Politics • Culture • Writing
Why You Can No Longer Listen to The Dark Side of the Moon
How Pop Music - ALL Pop Music, Even Music By Your Favourite Artistes - Is The Devil's Work
February 26, 2025
post photo preview

On a recent podcast, my Special Guest Ben Rubin described how he could no longer bear to listen to Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon. What he now finds untenable are lyrics like “Quiet desperation is the English way” which, with Awake hindsight, he realises is a sly invitation towards existential despair. Here a bestselling album - 45 million copies sold - is being used to programme its audience into that state of apathetic surrender which our Dark Overlords find so beneficial to their controlling agenda.

Obviously, if you are still a Normie, this is going to sound like hogwash. “C’mon. It’s just Roger Waters being Roger Waters. He’s just riffing on Henry David Thoreau’s ‘The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation’. You’re reading too much into this.”

Oh. Am I?

One of my jobs in my twenty-five or so years in the mainstream media was as a music critic. I reviewed hundreds of rock and pop albums, attended many dozens of gigs (including about 15 Glastonbury festivals) and interviewed any number of stars. I shared cocktails at 2am with Jimmy Page in the Beverley Hills Hotel and was so drunk when he agreed to do the interview immediately afterwards that I could barely ask a coherent question. I got abused as a ‘tad journalist’ by Lou Reed. I believed - though perhaps I shouldn’t have - Jon Bon Jovi that the secret of staying faithful to his wife on tour was regular masturbation. I smoked some of Tricky’s predictably excellent weed. I innocently asked Tracy Chapman whether she had a man in her life. (lol). I found Beck away with the fairies. I attended the excruciating premiere of ‘Sir Paul McCartney’s’ Liverpool Oratorio. I pissed off Dave Gilmour by telling him my favourite Floyd album was Atom Heart Mother. I saw REM’s legendary Bingo Hand Job gig. I took Stephen Fry to see EMF play Unbelievable…

But just because I’ve been there, done that, doesn't necessarily mean I had the slightest clue what was going on behind the scenes. In fact I know I didn’t. I was, as most of us are, under a spell. Also, I believed like the reporter in The Man Who Shot Liberty, that ‘When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.’

When you’ve been so deeply immersed in pop culture for so long it becomes hard to quit the addiction. All these heroes - Bowie, Led Zeppelin, Radiohead, Underworld, Eat… - have written the soundtrack to your life. Rejecting them is like discarding parts of yourself, your personal history, some of your most treasured memories. Which is why not just Normies but even many Awake people are so resistant to the notion that, yes, even the music industry is part of the psyop. Indeed not just even the music industry but most especially the music industry. It exists to grab you, sneak under your skin, at the very moments in your life when you are most susceptible: you’ve just broken up with your partner; you’re off your face on drugs; it’s your birthday; you’re bored; you’re cruising down the highway and your brain is wide open. That is why music is so particularly valued by the Dark Overlords. They’re not doing it because they love you, you realise?

Most of us who’ve been down the rabbit hole know this - up to a point. We know how dangerous, evil and manipulative the music industry is. We know what went down at those P-Diddy parties. We know that Lady Gaga is - probably - a bloke. And that so - probably - is Taylor Swift. We’ve probably read Dave Goldman’s Weird Scenes Inside The Canyon, which blew the whistle on the CIA-manufactured origins of the entire Peace & Love West Coast music scene. We might even suspect that Paul is dead

But still far too many of us supposedly Awake types want to have our cake and eat it. We are afflicted with what I call ‘But Not Kate Bush’ Syndrome. That is, we perfectly well accept that pretty much every star in the musical firmament is a mind-controlled, soul-selling stooge of the beast system. Just not our personal favourite artistes who are magically exempt because their music is so great it couldn’t possibly have been written for them by the Tavistock Institute and because they have such compelling backstories that they must be genuine talents who emerged naturally, rather than having been created by a committee of mind-bending technocrats run by the Illuminati.

I understand this impulse for I too would like to believe that there is nothing weird and sinister and occultist about our Kate. And I’d dearly like to believe the same thing about David Bowie, not least because of the hours I invested of my precious youth getting into him. My brother Dick and I made it one of our projects. Obviously we already liked Ashes to Ashes because it was the top of the charts at the time with that cool video on the beach featuring various New Romantics dressed as nuns and the line we mistakenly thought said ‘I ain’t got no money and I ain’t got no hands’. But we had to work hard on some of the earlier stuff. “Yeah, I really like Life On Mars and Oh You Pretty Things but I’m not such a fan of Quicksand or Bewlay Brothers.” “Don’t worry, you’ll get there. I think Bewlay Brothers is now almost one of my favourites.”

But I think we need to be honest with ourselves, we Awake Bowie fans and judge our hero according to the same rigorous criteria we apply to all the other conspiracies out there. Are we really to believe - honestly? - that the guy who began one of his songs ‘I’m closer to the Golden Dawn/Immersed in Crowley’s uniform” and concluded, gnostically, that ‘Knowledge comes with death’s release’ was one of the goodies?

There’s a reason why we pored over those gnomic lyrics. Because they were meant to be pored over and mulled upon and eventually absorbed into our vulnerable adolescent consciousness. It wasn’t an accident that they messed with our heads and made us feel weird and rebellious and dissatisfied and alienated. That was the whole point.

Same goes for Pink Floyd. I’ve watched so many documentaries about the Floyd, read so many books, listened to so much of their music that of course I can give you the fanboi/muso chapter-and-verse on their early experimental days at the UFO club, the tragic tale of Syd, the miraculous marketing power of their sleeve designers Storm Thorgerson and Aubrey Powell and so on and on through the floating pigs and on to The Dark Side of the Moon which (if you don’t count The Bodyguard soundtrack, which I don’t) is still the world’s biggest selling album after Michael Jackson’s Thriller and AC/DC’s Back in Black. But so what? Given what we know about the music industry how are we to trust a single word of what it tells us about itself? Remember that quotation about printing the ‘legend.'

It’s the stuff They don’t - and won’t - tell you about the music industry that we should focus on, not the stuff They put out in press releases and back-slapping, chin-stroking retrospective documentaries on the Sky Arts channel. Obviously it’s rarely going to be spelled out for you, except in stuff that occasionally slips through the net like the obscure interview where Dylan ruefully describes his pact with the ‘chief commander.’But it’s not as if They don’t offer plenty of clues - because of that Satanic/Luciferian obligation They have to ‘reveal the method’ and to hail the object of their true allegiance.

That Wish You Were Here cover, for example. Designed by Hipgnosis (geddit?). What’s all that about, do you reckon? Well the official narrative, of course, encourages you to focus on the crazy creative genius of Storm Thorgerson, or the difficulty of setting up the shot with the stunt actor in the flame retardant costume. But the real meaning is obvious when you see it, as someone kindly explained to me in the comments on my Substack the other day.

The deal-sealing handshake with the flaming man? Yup. It’s about the same thing Bob Dylan is on about in that interview I mentioned. And the same thing Freddie Mercury is singing about in Queen’s most famous track Bohemian Rhapsody. Sure, Bohemian Rhapsody spent weeks at number one because it’s incredibly catchy with some sublime vocals from Freddie and some great guitar breaks from Dr Poodle Hair Badger Botherer and its air of cod-operatic, kitsch sophistication. But it also got there because that’s what They like to do: to shove their clandestine message right in your face so as to mock you with the obviousness you are yet too stupid to understand.

“Beelzebub has the devil put aside for me.”

Gosh. What can that possibly mean?

We all know that to get a record deal you have to sell your soul. It’s a part of music lore.

But the reason it’s part of music lore is because they want the secret hidden in plain sight. That is, by telling you about the pact with the devil, they want to make the mature, discerning, rational part of your brain to go: “Well of course they don’t mean literally a pact with the devil. It’s just a trope. A metaphor. Goes back to the days of Robert Johnson etc. etc.”

Meanwhile, selling their souls to the devil is exactly and, yes, literally what all successful musicians have done in return for their career and to which they cannot help alluding now and again because, as they often come to appreciate more as they get older - see eg late career Johnny Cash - it’s not necessarily the most edifying or long-term beneficial of exchanges.

Before he was cast out of heaven for leading one third of the angels in rebellion, Lucifer was in charge of music. Or so I’ve heard and it does make sense. It’s no accident that Stairway to Heaven sounds so moreishly addictive. Nor Hotel California. That music was personally supervised by his Satanic majesty, the god of this world, patron of axe maestros from Jimmy Page to Keith Richards, and deliberately, through sundry cunning wiles and much diabolical skill, made so attractive in order to make you want to take more drugs and have more sex with lots of unsuitable partners.

That’s the devil’s job. To entice you towards sin. And he’s really, really good at it. If sin were easy to resist we’d have no trouble resisting it. Unfortunately, sin is very closely aligned with all the things our fleshly bodies find most agreeable and which, by spooky coincidence, pop music tends to celebrate: rhythmically-enhanced hedonism, gluttony, profligacy, druggy abandon, alcohol abuse, degeneracy, rebellion (let’s not forget who the first rebel was…) and, of course, lashings and lashings of sex.

“How could something that feels so good be so wrong?”, people are wont - half tongue-in-cheek - to enquire. But the answer is contained in the question.

So, all those ‘fundamentalist’ Christians we were encouraged to mock were right all along. Pop music is the work of the devil. Once you understand this, everything about the music industry - the characters it promotes, the behaviour it encourages, the effects it has on you - makes so much more sense.

I sometimes used to wonder, for example, why all the music I used to love listening to - and I really did have excellent, recherché taste: In The Aeroplane Over The Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel, that kind of thing - made me sort of happy but never, ever so happy as I would have liked it to have made me. There was always something in it that was slightly off, something that said: “Yes, of course you are enjoying this but you realise the best is over, don’t you?” You get this feeling especially, I find, with my all-time favourite rock band Led Zeppelin. And the reason for this, I suspect, is explained in this superb essay:

https://ursulabielski.substack.com/p/stairway-to-hell-the-spiritual-and

by Ursula Bielski - Stairway to Hell: the Spiritual and Cultural Costs of Led Zeppelin.

Bielski is a Christian, a Catholic more specifically, so is equipped to understand the supernatural warfare being waged against us through songs like Stairway to Heaven which, it appears, may have been dictated to Robert Plant from the spirit realm.

It was 1970, and Jimmy Page was sitting in an old country house with bandmate Robert Plant, a fire flickering in the hearth. A storm rolled in outside, the wind rattling the windows, shadows shifting in the corners. The two musicians had been writing, playing, waiting for something to emerge. And then, without warning, it came.

Robert Plant, in a trance-like state, picked up a pencil and began to write. Words spilled onto the page as if they were being whispered into his ear. He barely remembered thinking them, barely recognized his own hand as it moved.

He pushed the page over to Jimmy. In the flickering light, Page read the words aloud:

"There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold…"

Later, the two would try to describe how the song—“Stairway to Heaven”--was not composed in the usual way. It was not labored over or refined.

It was received.

The Devil, infamously, cannot create (which is God’s prerogative), all he can do is imitate. I wonder whether perhaps that isn’t the problem I’m trying to identify with the work of Led Zeppelin. It’s a simulation of divine ecstasy, but it’s not the real thing.

There may be other factors at play too, here, one of them being pitch. We discuss this on my podcast with Conspiracy Music Guru, one of several Awake musicians to have noticed that music tuned to 432 Hz has warm, healing qualities whereas the current industry standard of 440 Hz unsettles you. And if you really want to go down the frequency rabbit hole, I commend this eye-opening essay by Agent131711, but read this one first. In it, Agent131711 argues that the chord sequences in different music genres are calculated to cause specific ill-health problems in their target audiences. Hip hop is designed to destroy your immune system; rock and country is designed to cause cardiovascular disease and cancer. Apparently. It’s a good read anyway.

Anyway, to return to the point from right at the beginning: yes, I agree with Ben Rubin that there is nothing innocent about albums like Dark Side of the Moon. Anything that is allowed to get that big - same rule applies to movies, books, celebrities - does so with the full approval of our Dark Overlords. And what is good for them is definitely not good for us.

Does that mean, then, that when Roger Waters sat down and wrote that line ‘Quiet desperation is the English way’ he was going ‘Mwahahahaha! This will destroy them, those poor ignorant hippie fools! How little they understand our Satanic masterplan!’? No, of course it doesn’t. Rather I think the creative process here was not dissimilar to the one that went into the composition of Stairway To Heaven. Once artistes have made the Pact - as Waters would certainly have done by this stage of the Floyd’s career - they tap in to a kind of Satanic consciousness. It gives them a creative helping hand (the devil, after all, has all the best tunes) but at the same time it exerts a slily corrupting influence and steers the product in a particular direction.

It’s what people don’t understand about conspiracies. The line you’ll often hear expressed by Normies is: “But look, people just aren’t that competent. No one could ever arrange a conspiracy on such a scale.” And they’re right, up to a point. No one human could…

community logo
Join the James Delingpole Community
To read more articles like this, sign up and join my community today
3
What else you may like…
Videos
Posts
Articles
James and Dick’s CHRISTMAS Special 2025

Featuring Dick. And James. And Unregistered Chicken. And possibly some other special guests.

Not included in ticket price but available so you don’t starve/die of thirst: nice pizzas out of wood-fired ovens; street food.

VIP Tickets - £120 including bell-ringing lesson, walk with James, front row seats, church tour

Location is: My neck of the woods. Northants. Nearest stations, Banbury/Long Buckby. Junction 11 of M40.

Friday, 28th November 2025. Starts at 5pm

https://www.jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Shop/?section=events#events

00:02:47
Big Birthday Bash

James Delingpole’s Big Birthday Bash August 1st. Starring Bob Moran, Dick Delingpole and Friends. Tickets £40. VIP Tickets (limited to 20) £120

Venue: tbc Central England/East Midlands - off M40 and M1 in middle of beautiful countryside with lots of b n bs etc.

Buy Tickets / More Info:
https://jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Live/bob-moran.html

If you have any questions regarding the event - please contact us via our website:
https://jamesdelingpole.co.uk/#Contact

00:04:15
Nick Kraljevic

If you had to escape to another country which would it be? James runs through some of the options with Aussie cybersecurity guy and entrepreneur Nick Kraljevic. Nick - a Delingpod addict since Australia’s crazy lockdowns - talks about how to claim dual citizenship (handy if your family originates from somewhere like Croatia, as Nick’s does) and which countries are currently the most welcoming. His two top choices may come as a surprise. Nick is the founder of Societates Civis - www.soc-civ.com - which can help you make the move.

↓ ↓

How environmentalists are killing the planet, destroying the economy and stealing your children's future.

In Watermelons, an updated edition of his ground-breaking 2011 book, JD tells the shocking true story of how a handful of political activists, green campaigners, voodoo scientists and psychopathic billionaires teamed up to invent a fake crisis called ‘global warming’.

This updated edition includes two new chapters which, like a geo-engineered flood, pour ...

01:24:01

Posted by Tom Woods this morning. I concur! Breakfast is for farmers.

post photo preview
James's Big Birthday Bash - August 1st. Be There!

Because I love you all and want you to be happy, I’d like few things more than if you were ALL able to join me at my James Delingpole Birthday Bash on August 1st.

Unfortunately, numbers are strictly limited. So please don’t be one of those people - I’m the procrastinating type myself, so I know whereof I speak - who sends me a pleading message a few days before the event saying: “Can you squeeze me in?” Because tragically I might not be able to help.

Here’s why I think you’ll enjoy it. The main event is me doing a live Delingpod with Bob Moran and the conversation is going to be great. You know it is. Apart from my brother Dick - who’ll also be appearing, obvs. - there’s probably no one with whom I have a greater rapport than Bob. And, gosh, do we have a lot to talk about: chemtrails, death jabs, dinosaurs, Satanists, the New World Order etc. All the stuff, basically, that you can’t discuss with your Normie friends, but which here we’ll cover freely and frankly because, hey, you’ll be ...

post photo preview
Christianity 1 New Age 0

If you haven’t already - I’m a bit behind the curve here - I urge you to watch this car crash encounter between Christian apologist and scholar Wes Huff and ‘ancient civilisation’ researcher Billy Carson.

It’s an excruciating experience - probably best to watch it on double speed - for a couple of reasons. First, the hapless podcast host/debate moderator Mark Minard is somewhat out of his depth and is also clearly embarrassed at having one of his guests (Carson, sitting right next to him) eviscerated in front of him by his other guest. This causes him to interrupt the debate at intervals and expound well-meaningly but not very interestingly on his own half-baked views on the mysteries of the universe. You feel a bit sorry for him but you do rather wish he’d shut up.

Second, and mainly, it’s painful to watch Carson being outclassed and outgunned by someone who knows and understands his purported field of expertise so much better than he does. Carson was reportedly so upset by the encounter that he ...

post photo preview
James and Dick's Christmas Special - Don't Miss Out!

I was about to start writing Part Two of my piece Most Journalists Don’t Realise They Are Working For Satan, when a thought occurred: “Hang on, James. Shouldn’t you be plugging your show?”

It’s this Saturday, on the off chance you are interested. I quite understand if you’re not: you’re probably busy, this miserable weather doesn’t make you feel like venturing away from home, and anyway, it’ll just be me and Dick on a stage talking rubbish as usual.

You’re right. Dick and I sitting on a stage talking rubbish is indeed what you’re going to get this Saturday evening. As usual we won’t be at all prepared. Well, Dick might but I won’t because I’m lazyI like to keep it real.

The only thing I will have to do in advance is wrap Dick’s present which I got him from Russia. He’s going to really love it because it is about as Dick a present as you could possibly imagine and I want to watch his little eyes light up as he tears off the wrapping.

But to be fair, I do have roughly in my mind some of the few things I want to talk about. One of them is ‘Who Really Runs The World?’, which obviously for us batshit-crazy tinfoil hat loons is one of those ongoing conversations which keeps changing the more we learn. Another is ‘Was Churchill more evil than Hitler?’ We’ve talked about this stuff before but my take on these issues in 2025 is going to be subtly different from the ones you heard in 2024 or 2023, let alone in say 2019 when I was about 90 per cent Normie. (I’m allowing myself 10 per cent off because I did at least know back then that climate change was bollocks).

Will we play the “Yes/No” game? I doubt it because the answer always “No” these days. But you never know. Perhaps Dick might surprise me. Or perhaps he might introduce a wild card game he has invented for the occasion.

There will be no Christmas decorations. Sorry but it’s too early.

Nor, likely, will I wear my Christmas jumper. Too hot.

But we will do the Lords Prayer at the beginning - inter alia, to ward off any demons and because it makes everyone feel amazingly uplifted - and Jerusalem at the end.

Also, you get to see Unregistered Chickens, who just get better and better. Or so I’m told by one of the band members. Dick and Andy the lead singer keep making bitchy remarks about the fact that even when they’re playing at my events I never come to see them. Or only for a few minutes. I try to explain, honestly, that this isn’t because I’m too grand or because I think they’re crap but because before you do a show the very last thing you want to be doing is hanging out with the audience because it drains all the energy you need for the show.

Still I think the thing you’ll enjoy most about the event is hanging out with like minded folk. You’ll be able to put faces to the names of some of the fellow Awake people you know from online. And you’ll be able to talk about all the things - Michelle Obama’s big swinging lunchpack; hybrid creatures bioengineered in the same Antartica DUMB where they breed the children for adrenochrome, were the Thunderbirds puppets actually devised as a result of remote viewing technology which enabled Gerry Anderson to see into the future from the 1960s and watch Konstantin Kisin and the other one presenting Triggerpod? etc - that you will probably avoid bringing up with family round the Christmas dinner table.

It’ll be fun. You’ll really, really enjoy it.

It will be no skin off my nose if you don’t. But I just think if you don’t come you’ll be missing out.

https://www.jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Shop/Events/james-and-dick-s-christmas-special-2025

Read full Article
post photo preview
All They Want Is Your Soul

One of my unlikely podcast guests this week is Nick Griffin.

I say ‘unlikely’ because I’m always slightly wary of people who have been involved in mainstream politics - even if, like Griffin, it was only at the margins.

https://locals.com/jamesdelingpole/feed?post=7481845

Griffin - or Nick, as I suppose I should call him, now he’s my new mate - used to be the leader of the notorious British National Party (BNP). Like the party from which it splintered, the National Front, the BNP was and is one of those outfits which the mainstream media likes to brand as ‘fascist’ and ‘far right’ and ‘basically a bunch of Nazis.’

This would be why, in my days as an MSM journalist, Nick never crossed my radar. He wasn’t the sort of character of whom you could say to your editor “How about we hear what that Nick Griffin has to say for himself?” It would be tantamount to career suicide because, imagine, what if you quite liked him or he said something people agreed with? Far better not to take the risk - and to ignore him - as all self-respecting media folk did.

Anyway, now that very belatedly I’ve had chat with him I’ve discovered that, yes, I do quite like him. And also that he says lots of things I agree with. Many of the people who’ve listened to the podcast share my pleasant surprise. Here’s a typical comment:

“I was brought up believing the BBC hype - NickG is equivalent to Satan […] Please do bring Nick back on. Even some of my ‘awake-ish’ friends still recoil in horror at the mention of his name. This exposure can right this wrong.”

My main reservation about inviting Nick onto the Delingpod wasn’t that he’d be too controversial but that he might be a bit too conventional in his outlook, a bit Normie.

But on this, too, I was pleasantly surprised. As an example of how interesting his conversation is - and perhaps as an incentive to encourage those of you who aren’t already paid subscribers to sign up for an early listen before the podcast goes out free - I want to share with you one of his best anecdotes.

It was prompted when I asked him about whether any attempts had ever been made by shadowy forces to buy him off.

Yes, Nick said. Attempts had been made on a couple of occasions, one of them when he was a member of the National Front.

Representatives of an ultra-orthodox Jew in New York called Rabbi Schiller offered the National Front a large sum of money, on one somewhat surprising condition, which I shall reveal in a moment.

In Italy, meanwhile, on another occasion, some of Nick’s ‘far-right’ fellow travellers were made a similarly generous offer by a wealthy Jewish outfit. Again, the money was dependent on the fulfilment of one surprising term.

Then, Griffin went on, there was the example of his friend in Northern Ireland, a social marketing genius who was offered a blank cheque by Jewish interests, but only on one condition.

Here’s the interesting part. Perhaps you thought - as I certainly did - that in all three instances the Jewish donors would have made the same request: talking more about the Holocaust, maybe; toning down the anti-Semitism; avoiding criticism of Israel; something like that.

But no. The things that were requested were all very different - and also quite unexpected.

In the case of the National Front, the request was that they should stop griping about the perils and iniquities of the banking system.

With the Italians, the request was that they cease to sing the praises of Corneliu Codreanu, a Romanian fascist leader - founder of the Iron Guard - assassinated in the 1930s.

And in the case of the Northern Irish marketing guru, it was that he should stop talking about the evils of abortion.

The three very different provisos only had one thing in common: each was very dear to the heart of the people to whom the money offer had been made. To the National Front, banking was the key plank of their economic argument. To the Italians, Codreanu was a beloved romantic hero and role model. To the Northern Irishman, crusading against abortion was a moral imperative.

“They offer you everything you need,” explained Griffin. “But in every case they are only prepared to give it to you on condition that you sacrifice the thing closest to your heart.”

Perhaps experts in the Kabbala, or the Babylonian Mystery Religions, or the occult generally can explain to me what is going on here. But clearly these offers have great ritual significance - and also go some way towards explaining the nature of a world whose temporary god, according to the scriptures, is Satan.

Yes, you will be granted whatever you want. But not until you’ve first sold your soul.

Read full Article
post photo preview
Most Journalists Don't Realise They Are Working for Satan

Sometimes my wife’s newspaper tricks me into reading it. I hate it when this happens, still more so when, as it did the other day, it reduces me to a state of apoplexy.

The story that enticed me was headlined: ‘I Went Off Grid At The End Of My Garden To See If I’d Cope After Armageddon.’ It was accompanied by a picture of the author in woollen hat and anorak, looking glum, superimposed onto a still from one of those post-apocalyptic movies where all the ruined tower blocks are now overgrown with weeds. Well, you can see why I was tempted…

What infuriated me was the very first paragraph:

The Russians have invaded. That’s the most credible scenario, though we can’t rule out a climate catastrophe, deadly pandemic or, indeed, nuclear Armageddon.

‘You bastard!’ I swore at the author, one George Chesterton. ‘You despicable traitor to the human race!’

Possibly this was unfair of me. Chesterton will have been given his brief - ‘Keep it light!’ - and probably thought he was just doing his job. It may well be that, being very likely of a Normie persuasion, he didn’t even notice what he was doing here.

But I noticed.

There is nothing remotely ‘credible’ about the ‘scenario’ of a Russian invasion of the UK. Nor, indeed of a ‘climate catastrophe.’ Nor yet, of a ‘deadly pandemic.’ As for ‘nuclear Armageddon’, for that to happen nukes would first have to exist as viable weapons of mass destruction, which I’m not at all convinced that they do.

Every conceit of that opening paragraph is a lie - and an abominable lie at that because each one of them reinforces in the public imagination a premise which has been designed by some very bad people, the worst in the world, to scare us, to manipulate us, and to exploit us.

This piece is a perfect example of why I so loathe and despise my old trade, print journalism. In the guise of innocuous entertainment, it reinforces our Enemy’s mendacious scare narrative.

People reading that article will have done so with their defences down. “Here’s a bit of fun,” they’ll think, as they approach it, recognising from the comical illustration and the positioning of the article not in the main body of the newspaper but in the lighter-read pull-out supplement that this is not to be taken too seriously.

When you’re relaxed you are much more vulnerable to subliminal messaging. The subliminal message here is: “Russia is a threat. Probably the main thing you should worry about right now. War with Russia is very likely. If it weren’t likely the Swedes wouldn’t have produced this booklet called ‘Om Kristen Ellen Kriget Kommer’ - ‘In case of crisis or war’ - which we are now promoting in this light-hearted piece. So when war with Russia comes, don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

What I find particularly objectionable about this - it’s probably the reason I got so cross - is that I’m still in the midst of reading Two World Wars And Hitler - Who Was Responsible? by Jim Macgregor and John O’Dowd. And what that book makes abundantly clear is that neither the First nor the Second World War started by accident. Both wars were orchestrated by the same kind of people - the Anglo-American Establishment, loosely speaking - who are now pushing us inexorably towards the hot stage of the Third World War, perhaps in the Middle East, perhaps in the Ukraine, using the same methods they used to promulgate the first two wars in their long-planned series of three.

Here, in case you missed it, is my long-read take on that subject.

https://www.jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Writing/Articles/how-to-murder-100-million-people-and-come-out-smelling-of-roses

Short version: none of us actually wants war because war is horrible and stops us doing all the much nicer things we’d prefer to do with our lives like having a family, making a home, and not having our friends killed or our limbs blown off. That’s why They - the Predator Class for whom war is a primary business model - can only get us to participate in Their wars through trickery and cajolery and subterfuge.

Subterfuge like that article I just mentioned above. It’s pretending to be a light, frothy, amusing read. But what it really is is pro-war propaganda.

Same goes for the cartoon the same paper - The Daily Telegraph - ran the next day. The cartoon showed someone in a rowing boat flying the white ensign of the Royal Navy shouting through a megaphone “We see you, Putin. We’re ready.” Meanwhile, beneath the waves, in a sinister submarine with some grabby claws at the front, lurks Putin, ready to destroy Britain’s puny defences.

If you went back about 175 years you’d see British newspapers running similarly unfunny cartoons, probably featuring a giant bear (with ‘Russia’ written on it) sneaking up on a lion or a unicorn or maybe a woman draped in a Union flag (with ‘Britannia’ written on her). Plus ça change.

I complained at the beginning about being ‘tricked’ by my wife’s newspaper into reading it. But quite often, if I’m honest, I don’t need to be tricked. As often as not, my incentives are a mix of morbid curiosity and masochism.

When I read the papers, especially The Telegraph where I worked for many years briefly as a specialist news reporter (Arts Correspondent) and mainly as a feature writer and commentator, I feel like a betrayed wife trawling her memory banks in search of all the instances where she should have noticed her husband was having an affair but failed to do so.

Like the injured wife, I now know that my former partner - the mainstream media - is not the decent upstanding chap I thought he was but a creature of monstrous depravity and evil. Indeed, I sometimes wonder whether the media isn’t more wicked than even Hollywood or the music industry. Without the media’s relentless lies and social conditioning, after all, we would not be nearly so susceptible to the machinations of our dark overlords. The press is what allows our enemies to get away with murder.

But I didn’t know this at all in the decades I spent working for it. And the question I often ask myself is: “How could I have missed what now seems so obvious to me?”

The answer, I think, is that as with the NASA space programme, only a handful of people need to be in on the secret. The vast majority of NASA employees, I’m sure, genuinely believed that they were sending men to the moon. The vast majority of mainstream media employees, I’m equally sure, believe (or at least have persuaded themselves) that they are speaking truth to power without fear or favour, getting to the bottom of what’s really happening in the world, being the first to ‘break’ ‘the news’, and so on. In both cases, the innocent dupes are so focused on the minutiae of their specific tasks they don’t have time to consider the bigger picture or ask questions like “But whose agenda am I really serving here?”

Consider the place where all the biggest lies are originally promulgated. The news room. If you’re the kind of person who reads my stuff you’re probably the kind of person who knows already that most of what appears in the news pages is literally fake news. “Terrorist” outrages, for example.

Just recently, there was a story all over the UK media - to which I paid little attention because it was all over the UK media - about some immigrant black person on a train going rogue and stabbing lots of people.

“Bollocks!” was my instant mental reaction when my one of my kids told me about it. Miri AF smells a rat too.

https://miri.substack.com/p/on-a-knife-edge

Let’s assume that our hunch is correct and that the entire story was fake, that the participants were all crisis actors, that it was yet another false flag devised by the intelligence services to ramp up fear, justify more state monitoring and regulation, and usher in the planned Nigel Farage/Reform regime… Surely that must make all the news reporters who wrote up the story complicit in the crime?

Well, no. At least not knowingly complicit. When a terror incident story breaks, the chances are that none of the news reporters who write it up initially will be anywhere near the scene. They will be stuck in the newsroom in London - and under pressure to get the ‘story’ out for ‘edition’, ie in time for it to appear in tomorrow’s print edition of the newspaper.

Therefore, in the first instance they will do little if any additional investigation of the story. They will take their stories from ‘the wires’, that is from the various press agencies, Associated Press (AP), Reuters and Agence France-Presse (AFP). All the press agencies are owned and controlled by the Cabal. Their job is to put out the official narrative, as dictated to them by The Powers That Be. But there’s no reason why the grunt hacks who take their stories from ‘the wire’ should know this. As far as most journalists are concerned, the Press Agencies are the gold standard, with bigger budgets, bigger staff, more access to information than anyone. No need to query their ‘facts’ either because all your competitor newspapers will be using the same information, which is all that really matters: consistency.

As the story develops there will be room for more active reporting: human interest stories about the experiences of the ‘victims’, a site trip to the location of the incident perhaps incorporating descriptive colour and the reactions of local people, etc.

But any independent reporting will be heavily constrained. Suppose, say, reporters had wanted to visit the Huddersfield train to see for themselves the blood-stained carriage. Well they wouldn’t have been allowed on board, most likely, because the police would have declared it to be a ‘crime scene.’ Same with access to the ‘victims’: it would be rendered impossible, for any number of reasons, from ‘too traumatised’ or ‘unwilling to speak’ or ‘being treated in hospital.’ So really, why bother? Why not instead do what news rooms do and rewrite stories from the wires….

This explains something I often noticed as a journalist but could never quite put my finger on: why disaster stories always felt slightly unreal and the reporting on them always a bit unsatisfactory.

I remember, for example, the incident in 2013 when a British soldier called Lee Rigby was supposedly beheaded in the streets of London by Islamist terrorists. This is quite an unusual and dramatic and frankly hard-to-pull-off thing to occur. How did they spot him if he was in civilian clothes? How come no one intervened as the baddies were busily chopping his head off? Why were the eye-witness accounts so mysteriously sketchy? Why wasn’t there more blood - I mean isn’t there LOTS of blood when you chop someone’s head off?

Neither on the day when I read the ‘news’ - nor in the subsequent follow-up reports, did I get any sense that what purportedly had happened really had happened. This didn’t mean that I discounted the story. For years afterwards, I trusted - because the newspapers wouldn’t lie, I thought - that there was a soldier called Lee Rigby and that he really had been beheaded in the street by two Islamic terrorists. But something about it just didn’t feel right and it was only years later that I realised why: that the whole thing was another bollocks, staged, false-flag operation.

When The Powers That Be are setting up fake news stories like this, one thing they are careful to factor in is repetition. That is, in order for the Big Lie to embed itself in the public consciousness it has to be repeated over and over again until even the very stupid people at the back of the class have taken the Big Lie onboard. One way the media effects this with news stories is to drip out new pieces of information each day, supposedly reflecting the diligent further inquiries of reporters, but really just reflecting how the lie narrative has been storyboarded: Day One: the sketchy, bare bone facts as the story breaks; Day Two: the shocked aftermath, prayers and tributes; Day Three: tales of heroism and tragedy from plucky survivors and grieving relatives.

With the Huddersfield train story, one of the ways they kept it alive was with human interest stories about passengers who had heroically fought back. A story in the online regional newspaper Nottinghamshire Live, later picked up by all the big league tabloids such as the Mail, told of a “Huntingdon train hero” who had been planning to watch his football team Nottingham Forest play at an away game in Austria. Cruelly and unforgivably, according to the story, the airline Ryanair had refused to refund his flight.

Further down the report is the interesting detail that ‘an online fundraiser via JustGiving’ has been created in the hero’s name ‘with the hopes of financially supporting him while he recovers from his injuries.’ Already, we learn, ‘more than £50,000’ has been raised.

I’d lay £50,000 that no reporters on any newspaper will have been there to examine the scars when he pulled off his bandages. As we journalists used to joke back in the day - and as quite possibly they still do - ‘never let the facts get in the way of a good story.’

Everyone who doesn’t work in the media assumes that everyone who does work in the media must be knowingly complicit in the lies that the media spews out every day. My contention, as a former insider, is that this ain’t necessarily so.

So who does know? I suspect by the time you get to the level of editor - or just before you are offered the job - that it is made clear to you what the deal is. Editors, even now that no one buys newspapers, get outrageous pay packages, often including perks like chauffeur-driven cars daily from their agreeable country homes. They also get to become figures of influence. It’s possible that shilling on behalf of evil Satanic elites and destroying their people and their country wasn’t what they signed up for when they started out as cub reporters/got fast tracked to the leader page editorial team thanks to their Oxbridge degree. But big money makes nasty conscience problems go away.

Lower down the feeding chain, it’s hard to say who is genuinely compromised and who is just a useful idiot of the corrupt system. But I’d say that the vast majority of hacks fit into the latter category. One reason I’m pretty sure of this is that I know journalists to be incorrigible gossips. In my day, a lot of them used to drink quite heavily too. What do you talk about over a pint? You talk about work. You trade inside information. And I can assure you that never once in my years as a journalist, including several years as a newspaper staffer, did I ever hear a news hack say anything like: “Well you realise that Diana was still alive and able to walk when they pulled her out of the vehicle. A Merovingian blood sacrifice, that’s what it was, orchestrated by Prince Philip” or “Head chopped off in the streets of Woolwich? You’re bloody kidding me, aren’t you? Everyone in the know knows that this was another MI5 false flag.” Nor, ever, did I hear a hack on the foreign desk intimate that 9/11 was an inside job.

The fact is that most journalists actually believe the crap that goes under their bylines. News reporters, certainly, because most news reporters don’t do any actual reporting. Rather they collate and lightly edit the information that has been handed to them by trusted authorities - the emergency services, the news agencies, etc. Their main sin - and it’s a venial one, not a venal one - is to be far too trusting of their sources. And too lazy - or time pressed - to make independent inquiries.

Because I was never myself a proper news reporter - being Arts Correspondent doesn’t really count because all it involves is going to theatrical first nights and writing about arts funding crises and such like - I don’t consider myself responsible for any of the disgusting Cabal propaganda the Telegraphran in its news pages while I was working for it.

But that doesn’t quite let me off the hook. Earlier I described the news room - though strictly speaking I should have said ‘editorial conference’ - as the place where all the biggest newspaper lies are originally promulgated. It’s the opinion formers, though, in the comment and editorial sections who do the worse damage, in my view. And since I was one of them, I feel I owe you an explanation. But that will have to wait till the second part of this piece…

Read full Article
See More
Available on mobile and TV devices
google store google store app store app store
google store google store app tv store app tv store amazon store amazon store roku store roku store
Powered by Locals