The rapier pierces the lung of the globalist, and the worm, he cowers downwards, frothing at the mouth with unintelligible rage as he bleeds profusely; he clutches at his wound but crimson continues to spill forth unto the ground. Little does he know his maker is only the first and not the last — there is still more blood to bleed from his bloated body. And so shall it be.
Good heavens, it finally happened! Britain has voted to leave the European Union! There isn’t much I can say on the matter which isn’t self-evident. This is a very good thing indeed; one small step towards something much healthier, organic and proper regarding the politics of England and the union it resides within, the United Kingdom of Great Britain.
What’s more, this turn of events — not something I anticipated, mind you — will have incredible and awesome influence upon continental geopolitics and, crucially, the morale of the Right and those generally who’d dare oppose the mechanised bureaucracies churning-out nought but standardised misery.
Truly this is a great day for the men of Great Britain and for those who’d share our spirit, vigour, and confidence. The twenty-third of June, the Year of Our Lord 2016, will henceforth mark this important and pivotal day in this dark age. Although it may seem insignificant to a few onlookers, make no mistake; this is a sign. And a positive one at that.
To explain why this break was so necessary (if not inevitable), we must quote, at length, Norman Cantor‘s excellent work, The English: A History of Politics and Society to 1760:
In England, liberty is what the law gives to a man; the law is whatever the king-in-Parliament says it is. But beyond this conclusion lies a whole complex of ideas of what liberty is and ought to be — a web of different strands rooted in several distinct sources and traditions. …we must trace them back to their medieval sources and, specifically, to two significant foundations, the common law and religious [Christian] ideals. …
The Common Law is a tradition of liberty — the most significant one in English history — is straightforward and unambiguous. The common law idea of liberty is … enshrined in Magna Carta. … Liberty in England is nothing more than the right to have what is due to you under the law. Magna Carta did not provide for any generic liberty; it only set forth — for all freemen — the right to enjoy what the law gives. The only universal right is the procedural one of due process, a protection available (in different forms, to be sure) to all men. What due process guards in any case may in fact be most unequal. Nevertheless, the fundamental idea of common law liberty is due process. “The law of the land” merely confirms to every man his own liberties and possessions. The common law envisages a hierarchic society in which every man carries with him certain privileges. The law protects these, but by no means equalises them. Specific liberties will belong to you according to your status in society, and they will be granted (or, more usually, confirmed) by a legal declaration of the king-in-Parliament. …
The common law idea of liberty is antithetic to equality. In Magna Carta, where the idea is resoundingly enunciated, liberty and property are virtually synonymous. Liberty is what one possesses — tenure, or franchise; but even the man who owns nothing has the right to the due process suitable to his status in society — however unenviable that may be. … Dukes and peasants own quite different things, but each has some liberty. …
This is the fundamental divergence from continental forms of governance that the English — and by extension the British as a whole — take. That only that which is proper can subsist. A layman has the right to himself but not over another layman; an aristocrat has the right to himself and over the layman but not to another aristocrat, et cetera — all under the land and its essence found manifest in the good old law; the common law; that ripened acorn planted deep in a Germanic forest. And this is the cause of British unsettledness at the standardising, non-nuanced, improper nature of the European Union and its seat of egalitarian, globalist materialism. There are no gentlemen in the European Union, there are no societies or trades or clubs, there are no poets or kings — the Englishman feels apart from the top-down nature of European politics and civil law, and this is also manifest in his being upon an island; such a symbol is often overlooked, but now, this day, it seems to’ve been remembered even deep into the night that is modernity. A thread to something superior survives and I do hope we find more in the years and decades to come.
Godspeed, my fellows. And God save the Queen.