Amidst all the mainstream and social media's sanctimonious virtue-signalling and grotesque Brexit-blaming for the murder of Jo Cox MP on Thursday, was this nasty little tweet by one Remainer, whom, from the content of his well-thought out 'opinion' on the matter, I suppose to be fairly young:

I see an elderly Brexit nutjob has shot + stabbed a pro-EU MP while shouting 'Britain First'.
Truly a credit to the Brexit demographic :/
Alex P (@alexperryman) June 16, 2016

This young man does not realise that the 'elderly Brexit' voters he so arrogantly despises are not voting for our future - we will soon be gone and out of reach of the tyranny of the anti-democratic EU monster; we are voting for the future freedom of this young man, as our forebears fought against the very same evil regime last century for our freedom.  They made the greatest sacrifice possible in the bloody battles of the Somme and of Normandy; we receive mere childish name-calling from the ignorant.  I think we can withstand such pinpricks.

I have nephews, and I am very, very glad that their parents have raised them to know the utmost importance of understanding history, to respect the sacrifices of their forebears for their sakes, and to strive to be honourable in all their ways.  I am quite sure that there are far more young people like my nephews than there are like this boastful young man.  If Britain does indeed remain in the EU, then some day, when he has grown a little older and is mourning his freedom lost for ever under the oppressive totalitarian jackboot of the New World Order, I hope he may also have grown a little wiser and a little more humble, and will look back with bitter regret for his proud disdain for the 'Brexit demographic' who, in reality, knew far more than he.

Until then, he might care to ponder this:

...and to think on this from a man much older and wiser and more knowledgeable and tested than this young Remainer:

Elizabeth McDonald
19 June 2016

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Liberty: the Battle for the Very Soul of Britain

The following is an extended extract from Battle for the Very Soul of Britain

"Nine hundred and fifty years ago, between two hillocks at Hastings, an Anglo-Saxon king took an arrow in his eye and England surrendered her independence. That was our last - should I say most recent? - defeat on home soil. King Harold's forces fought valiantly but they had been exhausted by two earlier battles ... A shrewd and ruthless Frenchman, Guillaume of Normandy, seized power and London's Witan parliament was never heard of again. ...

"I have been contemplating poor King Harold a fair amount recently. ... As a schoolboy I visited the northern French town of Bayeux to see [the] tapestry and remember a sting of sorrow as I saw the needlework images of vanquished Anglo-Saxons. It was always the same when I read history yarns about British chieftain Caractacus fighting the Romans on his hilltop and later being paraded in Rome as a chained captive; or gallant ... Boadicea, Queen of the Iceni tribe, charging towards the Roman lines in her chariot ... In such accounts, I always rooted for the Brits. ... I always wanted the dwellers of our dank and foggy, sea-set isle to seize the day. Was it a nascent sketchwriter's innate bias or inherited love of country from my fiercely patriotic parents? Was that love wrong? Is that love wrong? I still feel that way.

"The likes of Mr Cameron and his fellow Europhiles ... presumably feel something different when they look at the Bayeux tapestry. I suppose they experience  a glow of quiet satisfaction that William and his forces of European integration over came the locals. ... A deep-rooted part of me rebels against that. ... I grieve for the freedoms that were squashed. And I feel just the same when I look at an castle built by English lords to crush dissent in Scottish and Welsh territory. My sympathies lie with the invaded. ...

"Hereward the Wake [a] Lincolnshire freeman ... had his lands taken by the Normans and decided to do something about it. For a few years after 1066, Hereward and his small army operated out of the Cambridgeshire town of Ely, then an island. They were beaten only after a treacherous monk showed the Normans one of the secret paths to Ely through the Fenland marshes. ... Almost a millennium after the event, I feel a lively indignation on Hereward's behalf. What a cur that monk was to betray him. What if Hereward had continued to oppose William? Could he have combined with the still unconquered Celts and Northumbrians to drive out the 'ingengas'? Or was Norman rule as inevitable as supporters of the EU now say their governing body is inevitable? As for that treacherous monk, was he a sort of Roland Rudd of his day ... the City PR smoothie pulling strings for the Remain camp? ...

"My support for Hereward may reflect a surfeit of foolish romanticism. But it may also echo enduring truths about the importance of self-determination and of remaining true to one's ancestral heritage. For what are we if we deny the past? What is the point of being British if we are not able to say who governs us? And let there be no doubt: if we vote to stay ion the EU, we will not be able to dislodge the elite that runs Brussels. They will be impervious to our democratic disapproval. They will be as safe as William and his shaven-headed Normans were in their mighty castle keeps. ...

"The Leave campaign ... has urged voters to quit the EU for a range of reasons ... Hereward the Wake ... would have heard Vote Leave talk of how we must 'take control' and would surely have thought 'I don't really want control - I want liberty.' ...

"It would obviously be good for us to retrieve national control of trade decisions, tax matters, ... immigration policy ... But where is the optimism in Leave's campaign? Where is the appeal to something more positive, more human, more ardent? The hearts of Hereeward the Wake and his 'green men' would have burned for something greater; something more essential. You could call it self-determination or independence but it is basically the right to plant your feet on the clifftops of Kent, raise your eyes to the cloud-scudding sky, and relish your ancient liberty as a free-born Briton. ...

"I think of my grandfathers. One was wounded three times on the Western Front in World War I. The other landed in Normandy - Normandy! - just before D-Day to clear the beaches of mines. They fought for king and country, yes, but they fought most of all for an idea: freedom. The days of ancestral sword and scramasax may have passed but that powerful notion of liberty, the spirit of British dissent which flared so wonderfully in the East Anglian fens 950 years ago, must never be allowed to die. Without it, we would be an island without pride, an island shorn of soul"

[End of Extract]

Norman and Saxon

"'My son,' said the Norman Baron, 'I am dying, and you will be heir to all the broad acres in England that William gave me for my share
when we conquered the Saxon at Hastings, and a nice little handful it is. But before you go over to rule it I want you to understand this:

"The Saxon is not like us Normans. His manners are not so polite. But he never means anything serious till he talks about justice and right.
When he stands like an ox in the furrow with his sullen set eyes on your own, and grumbles, 'This isn't fair dealing,' my son, leave the Saxon alone.

"You can horsewhip your Gascony archers, or torture your Picardy spears; But don't try that game on the Saxon; you'll have the whole brood round your ears.
From the richest old Thane in the country to the poorest chained serf in the field, they'll be at you and on you like hornets, and, if you are wise, you will yield.

"But first you must master their language, their dialect, proverbs and songs. Don't trust any clerk to interpret when they come with the tale of their wrongs.
Let them know that you know what they're saying; let them feel that you know what to say. Yes, even when you want to go hunting, hear 'em out if it takes you all day.

"They'll drink every hour of the daylight and poach every hour of the dark. It's the sport not the rabbits they're after (we've plenty of game in the park).
Don't hang them or cut off their fingers. That's wasteful as well as unkind, for a hard-bitten, South-country poacher makes the best man-at-arms you can find.

"Appear with your wife and the children at their weddings and funeral and feasts. Be polite but not friendly to Bishops; be good to all poor parish priests.
Say 'we', 'us' and 'ours' when you're talking, instead of 'you fellows' and 'I'. Don't ride over seeds; keep your temper; and never you tell 'em a lie!"

[Poem by Rudyard Kipling]

The Tower of Babel: EU / UN / NWO

"These are the families of the sons of Noah, after their generations, in their nations: and by these were the nations divided in the earth after the flood.  And the whole earth was of one language, and of one speech.  And it came to pass, as they journeyed from the east, that they found a plain in the land of Shinar; and they dwelt there.  And they said one to another, Go to, let us make brick, and burn them thoroughly. And they had brick for stone, and slime had they for mortar.  And they said, Go to, let us build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven; and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.  And the LORD came down to see the city and the tower, which the children of men builded.  And the LORD said, Behold, the people is one, and they have all one language; and this they begin to do: and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do.  Go to, let us go down, and there confound their language, that they may not understand one another's speech.  So the LORD scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth: and they left off to build the city.  Therefore is the name of it called Babel; because the LORD did there confound the language of all the earth: and from thence did the LORD scatter them abroad upon the face of all the earth" (Genesis 10:32-11:9).