Wednesday, 27 July 2016

Swift currants.

As I stood in the garden just now, gazing and trying to clear my focus, I realised they’d gone, again. Hundreds of pages in and thousands to go, I was clearing the air, as it were, after a miserable morning here in the drizzled smoke. Silence.

I was scanning up at the traffic, the usual beacon twirlers and inbound, the spy in the sky sniffing to assist social media assassins and for what knows since I have not seen anyone arrested but thousands aided, all the traffic that has amused my eye since I was a lad way back when, far, far away staring up and the Red Arrows, in a tight vic, formating on their logistics, Victor if I remember correctly, and they flew right over my back garden at approx 30,000ft direct from showing the Norte Americanos how you really navigate the air. I had watched them as they came over the horizon, stark white contrails upon the sky. I watched them head south west as far as I could and then it was back to clocking German/Dutch F104s pissing around Prestwick. Well I might have been a tad awe struck that they were right over my lawn and the altitude might have gone to my head  but they were there alrighty. In formation, high in the beautiful, like PRU blue, only red.

About 3pm I was standing there beside my concrete owl, I call it Moloch just to phukkoph the gods, wondering at the silence above. Nothing outbound from Heathrow. No Elstree heroes. No black helicopters overhearing. No MiHiSkipilots. De nada.

Only yesterday they put on a marvellous unusual low level display like Hurricanes and Gnats loading up, testing the free air, screeing, careening and scooting around the eves, tree and chimney tops, round and around, whole groups of them, wing tip stalls, cartwheels and yo-yos everywhere. Lead and lag, hover and fall, all in majestic control. A thermodynamic symphonia in feather. Occasionally one of them would cling to the looming school building wall, at some vent points, for a breather I assume. This was in contrast to the normal display hundreds of feet in the air. They were skimming and sliding, pulling manoeuvres that Immelman and Boelcke only dreamed of, almost within my grasp.  I wanted to reach up and catch some of their magic that I might be transported away into their joy.

I have counted them all out and I have counted them all back over their many, many generations knowing this day would come again.

I love them and I stood and watched and was transfixed.   

Today as I was checking the tayberries, blackcurrants, blackberries, raspberries and my orphaned blue berries I was stunned by the silence around a Northolt rendition flight.

They’ve gone.

Sadness surrounds, summer is over.

All gone. I cannot be more rent.

Tuesday, 26 July 2016


Pacific Sentinel: News Story: China is boosting cooperation with wor...: CANBERRA, April 27 (Xinhua) -- China is strengthening cooperation with other countries in preventing home-grown terrorists from going to ...

I love those RoyalDutchPanzerschiff. All gone by 1942. When their mates were running hard for oil with SS5. Funny that. Dutjchapiru in oil that same year. Never forget Osaka, Rothbitchtown.

When one looks back at the things tooaught and the thoughts prescribiread, for some reason I always wanted to be in that illustrative blue, yellow sunshine caressing the unsettled earth thousands of years ago drinking ambrosia, not inlearning. My likely reality though would have been staring into the fishkettle, unschooled.

Monday, 25 July 2016

Too phukkin' hard workin'

Here we have the work of non vibrants.


Enjoy the plum.

More on vacuous Khaaants.

The creepzoids in Red have done their work thoroughly and destroyed the ordinary UKabo. They will slither off stage right and drop, or not, their full term chimerical things in luxury.

"An MP who quit Labour's front bench during a revolt against Jeremy Corbyn has been reinstated after asking for her old job back.

SarahChampion, the MP for Rotherham, has retracted her resignation as shadow
minister for preventing child abuse and domestic violence."

Now the fact that by asking for her job back, Sarah Champion has yet again shown what a lack of integrity she has, is not the main issue in this case.

My reason for posting is that this is highly relevant to Morgoth's excellent article. I had no idea that Sarah Champion who oversaw the rape of hundreds of children by muslims in her own constituency and yet took no responsibility for it was rewarded by Corbyn by being given the role of SHADOW MINISTER FOR PREVENTING CHILD ABUSE AND DOMESTIC VIOLENCE.

What a slap in the face for the victims, and yet another example of traitors being rewarded for what under normal circumstances would be deemed failure at best and criminal negligence at worst.
I'm shocked and disgusted by this, but at this stage I guess I really should not be surprised.

NWOZOMO Police Minister in charge of That Petrol Emotion. Burn it out.

Ever wondered why all the gas stations are closing?

Katyn bodyswerver. If his family were out in Siberia that means he was under TrotTexMex control, not Stalin.

“Gen. Jaruzelski was educated at a Catholic boarding school and graduated in June 1939, less than three months before Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union carved up his country. The Jaruzelskis fled to Lithuania, where they worked on a farm owned by a Polish family. In 1941, Soviet forces arrested them because of their “socially dangerous” background.
The family was split up, with Wojciech, his mother and younger sister sent to a remote Siberian village near the Mongolian border. His father was sent to a labor camp in another part of Siberia.”

Anyway they are all the same these khaants!

Sunday, 24 July 2016

Some things that encapsulate..........

SNAFU!: 173rd forgets how to airborne? Nope, but you watc...: Everyone and their mother is sending me links to this vid.  The guys on the vid are laughing, and the public seems amused. I have a diff...

Don't be thinking I'm lazing around swilling soup. I still have 2000+ pages to go. Still it is better than being a phukkwitz eunuchprosyletising phukkwittery lotwhore.