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I think that there are a few things that I should be doing differently in life at the moment. I spend a great deal of time distracted from what really matters, and what will matter in a year or more. In the evenings I feel like I am getting nothing accomplished; which in truth, I am not. Of course, I am working on the book, but I regularly find myself distracted with other things. I haven't done karate for a little over a month because of distractions and other things which take up that time.
I was hoping to become a little more hardcore then we ever really got with regards to Karate. We were just getting really into it when I had to slow down due to illness; and didn't pick up again. Of course, at some point in the future I am sure that we will, but I do not know when this will be. I'd like to work on the book all throughout the day, then in the late afternoon spend time with the family, and at night practice karate. A lot more would be accomplished like that, but I just can't do it. This isn't anybody else's fault, but mine alone.
You see, when I am working on the book, my mind drifts into other area's and I become distracted. Before I know it I am playing with new programs on this computer, or cleaning up the house just because I feel like it. It's really ridiculous that I spend more time doing this than actually working at the moment. I want to have the book written before my 17th birthday in October. I haven't talked to anybody about this, but I think that it is a good thing to have a target and something to aim towards. Maybe it will aid my focus.
Getting truly focused is really difficult for me, and in the mornings I often feel alone; even when surrounded by 3 other people. I think I picked this up in childhood whilst living with my Aunt and Uncle. As a child, I sought attention almost constantly, and I was rejected at an equal rate. Now it is like I am trying to compensate for that lost childhood. I become distracted, and go to spend time with and around others, instead of getting done what is necessary.
I hope to change this within the next week. I want to really get through Chapter 5 which I currently working on ("R"), and move onto the next area's that need work. Yesterday I was editing the appendixes and the contents which make up the proposal to agents and publishers. I would have gotten a lot more done if I had stayed on this; I wish that I had. I'll do better in the future.
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Graeme, who posts on this blog, has recently been insistent upon us going on holiday for a little while. Because of this, we are thinking about taking a trip to the beach soon. A break and change of scenery would be nice. It may also help us to refocus upon our return. I expect it to be hot, and I wonder how long I would be able to bare it without air conditioning on the beach.
I have been working on the book over the last few days, which is why I have not been posting. I have finally gotten my mind back to working on it, and it is progressing. I am over my 'writers block'. I find it difficult writing the book at times, since many parts of it still trigger powerful emotions. It is challenging writing about something rationally, and with understanding, when so much of it feels like it was only yesterday; stimulating emotions which I thought were gone. Some of the book has in depth details which are humiliating and often difficult for me to write about. So, I am often left feeling for the victims who are still going through it, and who are trying to manage everything in their lives around the vain hope of avoiding the rages of their abusers. Many of these victims have been trained from youth to respond to abusers, and rarely escape from the abuse cycle. They are the reason I am doing this.
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I feel like going outside to jog. I am full of energy and I am happy. There is a story behind this that I think you should hear.
Yesterday I decided to try a few juice drinks in place of meals, as recommended by a close friend and family member. Most people who start 'juicing' do it for the purpose of losing weight at a rapid pace; but I did not. I have never been on a diet for the purpose of losing weight because I never found my weight to be a problem. Of course, I have the insecurities that all women seem to, about my appearance; but not much more.
In fact, the main reason that I would go on a so-called 'diet' is for the purpose of feeling good. I could never use chemical dieting products to help me achieve this as they would simply put a halt to my appetite, and that is not my intent. I want to feel good, energized and happy, without being constantly hungry. Only the last of these specifications would I be able to fulfill while on a regular diet of carbohydrates and red meats. On a juicing diet, your intake is fruits, vegetables and water. The idea is that you feel full from the liquids which are found in these fruits and veg, yet you are not eating calories, so lose weight anyway.
This is great for someone who wants to lose weight, but I do not. I am 115lbs, and 5ft 6, so that is the last thing I have in mind, in fact, I would be quite happy to put on a little weight. I understand that it would be very difficult to put on weight, while eating a diet of fruit and veg; but I think that having a positive outlook is important in everyones life, and this can be effected by diet. If a person eats the right foods, they begin to look vibrant and feel great. When a person (especially a woman), looks in the mirror and is happy with the way that they look, it will give them a huge boost in self-esteem. This affects their whole day, and often the quality of day that their loved ones have too. This is why diet is incredibly important in families.
In order to stop myself from losing weight, I am eating some 'protein-rich' foods too, but I have cut out red meat and most carbs. I will write an article about the dangers of red meat soon. This is one of the worst things a person can eat when they are sick.
On the Christian Writers Board, I have written up some of the recipe's that I tried and I have included my opinions with them. Some taste incredibly good, whereas another it took me three hours to drink it, so I can say that taste definitely varies between recipes. I certainly feel a lot better today that I have done in the last few weeks. I have not been sick recently but my diet has not involved fruit and veg which is now helping to maintain an healthy body, emotionally and physically.
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I would like to thank the man who has recently been seeking to protect me, although I do not wish to name him publicly. Be advised kind sir, that Iain is not physically dangerous to me anymore. Although he does continue to play numerous psychological games attempting to regain his lost sense of power. He routinely calls authorities with bogus charges attempting to get me into trouble, in the same cowardly fashion that a certain set of our neighbors have done. (By the way, a welcome to my blog goes to all you law-enforcement people reading this.) Where ever possible, he attempts to spread absurd rumors. Iain also impersonates his former girlfriend hoping to gain trust and information which could either be used against me, or simply used to mock me. He actually believes that he is intelligent enough to manipulate me and the people I know, since he frequently manipulates other people with lower intelligence. He forges documents purportedly written by me to prove how crazy I am, but does so in a dissimilar handwriting style, and with incorrect facts about me. Through it all, he has only succeeded in making himself look worse. In some ways, my brief interactions with him now are like comic relief from the serious issues that I write about. The more he attempts to silence me, the more it proves that he indeed has something to hide. He is a sad, pathetic man. It is often hard to tell whether Iain or Ruth is to blame for certain acts, due to Iain's impersonations of her; but I really do not feel at risk from either of them anymore. The psychological games no longer affect me, the spiritual warfare does not bother me, and I am far away from any physical danger from them.
So, I ask you to not risk yourself on my account, as I am safe and happy. Thank you, and God bless you.
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Over the past week, several new members have entered my online chat, including Iain (my father) and his current girlfriend. Iain has only entered twice, and on the second occasion I felt that there would be no harm in me to speaking with him. After the conversation, I realized our conversation would help abuse victims understand what fuels an abuser. He plays several games of fear, which includes threats of involving the police, and contends that he has destroyed my credibility back home. Many of his threats I know to be false, due to regular contact with people in England. In the cases where I am not sure about the validity of his claims, I still have no fear of him or his words, for I know that I am safe now.
Follow this link if you feel brave enough to read it: Chatting With Iain
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I recently came across a problem with the book, while organizing "The Abuser" sections. We thought we were mostly finished with this, but we are now rethinking the organization of certain parts. For instance: society treats sexual abuse differently, and it is still a taboo topic in many respects. The topic of neglect gets practically no attention at all in the mainstream media. However, there are frequent discussions of emotional and physical abuse. Because of these patterns, I am not sure if pedophiles and neglectful parents should be included within the typical abuser section; even though all categories of abusers have some similar personality traits. Our book should break ground by demonstrating that abusers possess a certain distinguishable personality type, which is an extreme form of extroversion, and victims tend to have a certain personality type as well. Most authors bypass these issues altogether by writing either of typical abusers, or neglectful parents, or sexual predators, but never all at the same time. They have either missed the big picture, or it is just too ambitious for them.
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Today I have added 'Appendix A: The Abuser Profile' to the sidebar. This page points out the common personality traits of abusers. I posted this in order to help our readers spot abusive relationships, which only escalate with time. The book explains how and why abusive relationships usually get worse as the abuser's sense of powerlessness increases. For now, I hope that this helps any of our readers who are struggling with an abusive partner. I know from experience the emotional damage they can cause, and I hope to stop such suffering in others.
It is not my goal to destroy families, unlike many writers on abuse. At the same time, I do understand the need to escape an abusive home in some circumstances. I hope our book, and possibly some of the pages here can help readers who are trapped in such relationships to truly understand their situation and themselves. Self-understanding is required for both the victim and the abuser, in order for there to be hope in repairing an abusive relationship.
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Today me and Andrea built a frog pond in the yard. It took about 3 hours, which seemed like forever in 90 degree heat, with high humidity. It holds 50 gallons of water, but we did not build it because we wanted water in the yard. Instead we built it because we wanted frogs to kill our insects.
We have mosquito's everywhere outside, and Japanese Beatles which are eating our plants up. Because I am so fair skinned, mosquito's seem to swarm me, and I am always the one who gets bitten the most. I always wear insect repellent (even though it is really unhealthy and I need to make some organic repellent), and we have a citronella torch out there too. It was not too bad today while digging because of the citronella, but I should not have to have that running constantly. Frogs will eat all of the insects and make it much nicer outside.
None of us have seen such a large amount of mosquito's in one location like this, but unfortunately, we can't do much about the cause. Seen as mosquito's breed in water, they breed in the stale water left in our neighbors' gutter which they never clean out. Everyone else in the neighborhood does, but our interesting neighbors never really see fit, much to the disappointment of everybody else.
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We have been skipping around in working on various chapters of our book, as we constantly remember things we forgot to include. As a teaser, we are including the outline of the book, and this is one of the many things which we have made to share with publishers and publishing agents. Click here for the outline of "Love: The Opposite Of Power". I hope you enjoy reading it.
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We have a neighboring family who has become obsessed with our family. We are not certain as to what triggered the obsession, but it apparently began not long after I arrived. I seem to have an uncanny ability to draw out all the freaks from any crowd. Lucky me. They go outside whenever they hear us. Then they seat themselves on their porch, and watch us in the same way that most people watch television. Weird does not even describe it. It does not matter what the activity is, or how boring it is. We could be mowing, waxing a car, or raking leaves. Whatever we do is intensely interesting for them. They stare without speaking.
It would not be so bad if the neighbors only stared at us, but that was just the beginning of their obsessive behavior. Over the last couple of months they have made about a dozen bogus calls to the local emergency services. For instance, when we burnt the leaves from our lawn, they called the fire department to report that we had started a forest fire with utter disregard for public safety. We are not surprised when we see fire trucks roaring toward our house anymore. We have to pity those poor volunteer firemen who are dragged away from work and family to only find that they are the butt of someone's idea of a joke. Making false emergency calls is illegal, so we are confused about why criminal charges were not filed. Of course, it was a mistake for them to not file charges because it only encouraged more of this type of behavior. When the fire department did not harass us enough after several of their visits, the neighbors decided to contact the EPA about our burning, and also about the fire department's purported disregard for the law. So, we got a visit from the EPA too.
Apparently, like in the mind-set of a manipulative abuser, their sense of powerlessness in controlling us enraged them. Their stares became sneers. Honestly, I think that I have actually heard them making almost growling sounds at us. They began making mocking statements they hoped we would hear whenever we were out, and came outside to make loud snickering sounds whenever we practiced karate. The fact that we ignored them only seemed to make them more angry. This told us much about what kind of people they are.
Next they began calling the dog warden whenever we were away, and complained to him that we had a vicious dog roaming. According to them, our dog is blood-thirsty for the blood of innocent children. The first time they attempted this, we coincidentally arrived at the same time as the warden and a local deputy did. Yet again it was obviously a hoax, and once again, no charges were filed for making a false emergency call. Since we have not actually seen the dog warden again, it is safe to assume that he is not willing to be played for a fool. Although, we have seen deputies dispatched again to assess the situation with our killer dog. We eventually installed several "BEWARE OF DOG" signs to mock them, and let them know that despite all of their efforts, we still have no fear of them. I do not believe they were happy about those signs at all, because they were strategically positioned to be close-up, and in plain sight whenever they go outside. Sometimes we play with the dog outside to break the tension of their stares. We know how much our happy play time with the dog gives them warm feelings inside.
This weekend, we got another visit. It was not the fire department this time, nor the EPA. This time, it was the Sheriff's Department again. As of now, the only people they have not yet called to report us to is the Emergency Medical Service, and I hope this statement is not giving them more ideas. Things got interesting Saturday night. We were practicing karate outside as usual, and equally as usual, they came outside to sneer at us. They staggered drunkenly on their porch, and fell several times, I recall. We remembered just how much they loved our small fires, so we decided to have a marshmallow roast near the boundary of our yards. As Thomas began to light the fire, the sneers turned into yelling. The mother's most recent boyfriend yelled something which sounded very much like this: "No way mother trucker! You ain't going to lite no fudging fire! You'd better pit dat fire out, and get the fudge outta ma yard before I come over dare and kick yur arse!" Of course we really were not even in his yard. Thomas continued rather emotionless building the fire. Then Thomas calmly yelled back that we were actually in our own yard, and invited them to join us for the marshmallow roast. They began squealing more threats and vulgarities. The calm and carefree manner in which Thomas responded was much more than they could tolerate. I remember in particular hearing the boyfriend yell something sounding like: "I am going to kick yur mother trucking arse you mother truckin' weirdo!" Then he even made threats toward me. Thomas gave me one of those looks which told me his patience was almost gone in lieu of the most recent statements. The neighbor then activated his yard sprinkler to hose us down with water. Thomas looked at me and coldly said: "Get the baseball bat." He gave me one of those looks which told me it was best to not ask any potentially annoying questions, so I quietly went to get it. Andrea grabbed it first and took it to him. As Thomas marched into the neighbor's yard, I hoped he was not planning anything drastic, but I had to wonder. It was a relief to see him striking the sprinkler instead of the neighbors. He must have hit it ten times with his aluminum bat; pulverizing it. Later, he told me that he took the bat for two reasons: destroying the sprinkler was easier, and having that bat decreased the chances of the neighbor doing something incredibly stupid -- like attempting to attack him.
After many visits from emergency personnel, we were finally able to deduce how they went from having a fixation upon us to having a neurotic obsession with us; even though understanding it did not make it any less twisted. It began for them many months ago when their son came to our yard to play with Zachary often. Their son has behavioral, developmental, and defiance issues because his single mother (with many boyfriends) does not provide him with any discipline, or any other parental guidance as far as we can tell. Zachary was always a much better boy in every way. The neighbor's son had a tendency to leave his toys strewn throughout our yard, and this was one of the many issues Andrea and Thomas lectured him about. He just did not seem to care. The mother even ignored it all, as they lectured him about his behavior in close proximity to her. During the last of these occasions, Thomas demanded he take his plastic baseball bat home. The kid was very rude about it, and stated that he would do whatever he wanted. Thomas trashed the bat, and promised to discard whatever was left in the yard in the future. This is how the petty childish war began for those people. It concerned a $1.00 plastic baseball bat.
I now remember how she dispatched her five-year-old son to tell us that he could not play with Zachary until we bought him a new bat, and demanded that we do it immediately. They stared at us during this in a manner to suggest that we should be afraid. Of course we never did. We were astonished that these people could hide behind a five-year-old child, while using him to blackmail us, and while refusing to take responsibility for the direct role they played in causing the situation. We do not respond well to blackmail, or to people who use children as weapons.
Never has this neighbor cared about or even considered that the problem is due to her being a failure as a human being for her not being a parent to her own child, and that there are consequences which they will eventually be made to pay for it, when he becomes another monster residing within in the criminal justice system. Poor kid.
There was one funny aspect of our most recent visit by law enforcement. The neighbors were caught lying to the deputies about where the boundary of their yard was. The deputies realized they were lying after they noticed that the edge of the neighbor's lawn mowing pattern matched exactly where we had told them the boundary was. The neighbors then began yelling about various things in an attempt to distract the deputies' attention away from their discovery. The deputies seemed quite unimpressed to say the least, and we wondered at that point if they would make arrests for disorderly conduct and communicating threats. The next morning, the neighbors mowed into our yard to annex the part that they had decided they already own. What makes this even more interesting is that as renters, they really have no claim to anything.
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I thought that I would include some images of our Karate practice, as I said that I would. These are new uniforms we bought with the intent of participating in a tournament at some point in the future. Within the next couple of weeks, we intend to visit a tournament to get the feel of the competition, and to network with people in the field of martial arts.
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It's been a long time since I have really talked about politics on this blog, but since working on Chapter 4 of my book,"Love: The Opposite Of Power"; my mind has refocused upon it. Lots of my more extreme views have changed and I know find myself focused on only truth, which is often an unusual partner in politics.
Although I do not have the urge to re-enter politics, it seems to be on my mind a lot more, and I care more than I have over the past 12 months. Mostly, healthcare is my main concern, but that is followed by other issues of importance, which are ignored by politicians over here for the sake of profit and big business. Now that I am more settled than I have been in many years, I find it much easier to place mind on the concerns of a country, and the world; rather than my own minute by minute problems.
While writing the book so far, I have remembered things that I did in the past, and remembered how I started in politics with good motivations. To help others, and the country as a whole, I figured that I could make a lasting difference. As time went on, my goals most certainly changed to self-orientated positions of prosperity and power. Despite this, I have now have similar visions that I had from the start, with more realistic views on the world. My views are not full of hate, but I have come to realistic conclusions that the western world is full of people in positions of power who care only about that and themselves. Unfortunately, I came to realize that you cannot save a world that does not want to be saved. Although that is still true, I will never condemn anybody for trying.
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This is what my Blue Jay looks like, but I don't have pictures of it yet.
Our Blue Jay that I rescued as a fledgling is now ready to be set free. It is doing really well right now and I really hope that it sticks around in the area. I never would have imagined that it would be so tame and happy around us. In some ways I would just like to hold onto it and keep it in the house, where I know for sure that it is safe, but that wouldn't be fair.
Over the next few days I'll put out some seeds and see what happens. I really hope that it will be okay. It looks beautiful when it flies and I think it will make it around here, as there are other Blue Jay's around here that are doing just fine, and keep stealing the sunflower seeds that I put down.
-- Sarah
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This is an excerpt from Chapter 4. Note some editing may still be required, so read with patience.
Updated June 16th.
"The Dark Side of Politics"
By the age of 12, I was at my first British National Party meeting with about 30 in attendance. They were working class people. Some were football hooligans, and some were neo-Nazi supremacists. Nevertheless, this was a crowd that I found no problem working. Alongside these people was their political party chairman, Nick Griffin. He was a Cambridge University graduate with a degree in criminal law, and he seemed to shine above all who he led. I found him a difficult person to understand and became intrigued. I did not know why he would lead these people when he could have easily placed himself with upper class businessmen, which I assumed would have been more prized as political peers. I soon found myself speaking to him in a conversation lasting little more than 10 minutes. In the same manner as I had spoken to Matt Hale of the WCOTC, I boasted of our mutual frustration concerning the flood of illegal immigrants saturating the English population, the subsequent dilution of English culture, and our national sovereignty. My only knowledge of this political party was its stance on illegal immigrants, and it was enough information for me to know that these were people whom I could easily bond with. I still yearned to become a leader, and more importantly, I wanted to prove Maria and Gary were wrong about my failure as an individual without their help.
I disappeared to join another crowd when I noticed my father speaking to the chairman. This was a strange sight, since my father would have more easily meshed with the ordinary members, and he would have been more comfortable in their company, as they were generally less refined socially. However, I stayed back while they talked. Then my father approached joining me, asking if I would like to speak at the Red, White, and Blue. It was an annual BNP event occurring every August. I was naive of what this included, but I assumed that it was another meeting of the same size and stature, and therefore accepted his speaking invitation without much thought. I boasted about this opportunity to others, yet the person who remained the most excited was my father. He told me nothing of his clandestine conversation with Nick Griffin, nor the details of the event, which I was to attend, which left me quite unprepared for what was to come.
For the following two weeks, I prepared my first speech and basked in my potential popularity, as any teenager would have. I practiced my speech no more than 5 times, and composed it during the breaks of a daily soap opera. I did not expect it to be a large event, and felt not in the least intimidated. Nevertheless, I jumped about the house in excitement the day before we were to leave for the weekend event. I received a phone call from Chris Hartigan, the BNP's local treasurer, just before our departure. He asked me what topics my speech would include, and mentioned that several hundred people would be spectating. I remained fairly confident that I would not have problems. At least I attempted to convince myself of that. I began making frequent editions to my speech as my nervousness increased.
I arrived on Saturday with only hours remaining until I was due on stage. The turnout was significantly larger than anyone had expected. I was in the center of several fields along with two thousand others. My stomach became uneasy as I began to question my abilities on stage, revealing that I had never done public speaking before. I met a previous boyfriend who was also 12-years-old, who I had first met on an youth adventure holiday a year prior. I now had old friends and family watching my every move, and I knew that I would have to face them, even if I froze on stage. I sat on the front row of a large colorful tent, designed to hold around a thousand people, but many found themselves sharing seats throughout the overcrowded area. My ex-boyfriend, James, sat next to me as my hands violently trembled, and my stomach became increasingly uneasy. James moaned about how uncomfortable the small wooden benches were, but I paid little attention. I was horrifyingly fixated on the expectation of stage fright. I had never assumed that I might freeze on stage until my father sketched this idea in my mind throughout our journey. Back in 2003, I never believed it was intentional, but now there are doubts his motivations were honorable.
The announcer nodded to me, informing me that I was up next, and I felt my stomach turn. I was petrified and my hands were shaking. Before I knew it, I was introduced as the 12-year-old, Sarah, from Sheffield. I ascended 7 steps to the stage and shook the hand of a tall, slim man greeting me. I was not tall enough to reach the microphone, so he placed a metal toolbox on the floor for me to stand on. I was not embarrassed since fear had suddenly corroded away my pride. Stepping up onto the box, I began to speak.
| "My name is Sarah, and I'm 12 years old, and I came here to explain to you how our educational system is completely lost, yet there is still hope for our youth." |
My father stood in the crowd with a video camcorder, waiting for me to make a mistake with great expectation. That mistake did not come. I continued describing the downfall of the educational system, and heralded the bleak future that it would unleash upon our beloved Britannia. This was the core of my speech, as best I can remember:
| "The foundation of a nation's education is in its history, which has already been eroded, and worse, rewritten. We have a proud tradition of refined civilization, existing when most of the world used stones and clubs to commit routine tribal warfare, as it had for done for thousands of years. What had separated us from the savagery plaguing most of the world was English laws and traditions based upon Judah-Christian moral codes. Nations separated from conscience could no more expect to thrive than individuals could. Our universities were first spawned from the church during the medieval era, when each book was tediously copied manually by priests and monks. I dare say it, even in this era of political and moral cowardice, that Britannia was blessed throughout most of known history for what it was, and what it represented to the world. Our people were Christian, like every people who dwelt in thriving nations. The links between our faith and education, and ultimately the nation, can only be dismissed by fools.
In this era, faith issues, or lack of, are discussed in Religious Education classes required by all age groups throughout our governmentally-sponsored educational system. Over time, Religious Education has transformed from Christian studies into anti-Christian indoctrination. As you listen and reflect, you may soon discover how this forms a direct attack upon both our cultural values, and the sovereignty of our nation. Instead of learning from history, our educators and politicians are asking us to learn from, and to emulate the third-world, embracing their religions for the sake of multi-culturism. They rewrote history to portray us as the white devils who enslaved the world, but in most cases, we merely eliminated the law of the jungle elsewhere. We should feel proud that it was this nation which gave most of the world the concepts of legal codes and citizenship. Where ever our modern representatives' alliances lie, it is not with the people, nor the nation, nor our heritage, nor the truth. There is no legitimate education anymore. Education is now altering our proud history, and destructively re-engineering our culture in an Orwellian fashion. Geography lessons were once designated to teach children about geographical locations around the world, yet in modern classrooms, no maps are in site. Replacing them are posters of Rosa Parks and enslaved black men from the movie 'Roots', which all 14-year-olds are required to view. No purpose could lie in showing this film to children other than to instill them with white guilt, creating a generation of shameful cowards, terrified of following in their ancestors footsteps, and resentful of the civilization that their ancestors toiled many generations to build for them. Our sovereign nation, and our civilization itself are being assaulted. The situation is worse for children accused of 'racism' or 'bigotry', who are only guilty of having an unapproved opinion, or questioning the state of things. This creates a hostile environment for our brightest students. Historically, the core principal of all education was instead the development of critical thinking. Education never before taught us to become drones to self-defecating political propaganda, in fact, education was meant to yield the opposite. It did actually teach facts and critical analysis in previous times. Geography lessons nowadays are bombarded with the politics of countries around the world, including the Brazilian Favela's, and the Chinese one-child policy. Then teachers follow with the bitter irony of their 'citizenship' lessons, which supposedly teaches children how to be good citizens, but only from the view of the same people who are rapidly destroying what it means to be a citizen. During this class, children are encouraged to discuss the benefits of living in a multi-cultural society. In some cases, classes are utterly derailed onto the absurd topic of black slavery through America's early years. One must ponder the benefits of such education, and more importantly, what the ever more apparent motive is. The system in general, and in particular its demonization of anyone who might dissent, only further reinstates that our youths are alone in any rebellion against the nations' powerful elites. In fact, depression in adolescents is on the rise more than ever before, due in large part to the new teaching methods of an educational system put into place by the government who seems to have forgotten all of the values that we once stood proudly for. These are the people who began programs of sexual education for eight-year-olds, complete with pornographic demonstration videos showing in our schools. It is no exaggeration. Their multi-culturism is a guise for everything not Christian, while callously emphasizing Islamic studies. They purport this will make us a more tolerant people, as if the Islamic nations were known for their tolerance, and as if those nations were worthy of emulation instead of our's. The schools distribute Islamic Qur'ans everywhere as regular textbooks, while there is typically a single library Bible for an entire school, if one exists at all. Religious Education covers Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism, Sikhism, and of course Islam. Our true national faith, which made us the great nation we once were, is almost forgotten. Traditional hymns sung at school assemblies and prayers were banned only because they might offend Muslims. Should our legal code be designed on the basis of satisfying Islam? Christmas plays were even banned, and we were forced to rename the holiday to ignore its true meaning, since Christ became threatening to the power structure. What are the powerful really afraid of, and why have we become a nation of cowards? So lost we have become, and so bad is the Religion Education program, that it has become increasingly occult, with discussions and institutional Internet links to paranormal material, such as those dealing with interaction with demons. Why is this accepted when it is equally atrocious to the Islamic faith, unless their goals are more sinister, as in the destruction of the culture which has bound us together for one and a half millennia? In regards to Religious Education, the Devil really is in the details. As we have become increasingly morally bankrupt, so has our economy. Crime has risen by the same proportion. Our politicians pander to the lowest classes of illegal aliens, granting them special privileges which loyal citizens are not privy to. Their orchestrated influx of cheap migrant labor has destroyed the working class, and the middle class. We can no longer fly British flags at our homes without special council planning permission, lest it be offensive to the people here illegally, and flags must be removed if any of these criminals complain defiantly about what we as a people represent. The enemy is not the different races or nationalities, but our cowardly brethren who pander to the lowest of them, or those who utilize them as indentured slave labor, expecting them to suck from our welfare system for critical needs as their profits soar." |
My short speech was soon a popular topic throughout the camp, and I was inundated every few minutes with men and women who wished to shake my hand. I had never experienced fame before, and this attention felt like love. Many members expressed appreciation and wanted to spend time with me. I was certain these people held a type of love for me, and I embraced it. I was tragically naive about politics and human nature. Instead of loving me, they loved what I could do, or more importantly, what I could do for them. I could gain them money and votes. I was their new weapon. I was to become their wonder kid. When I looked at them, I saw love, but when they looked at me, they saw power.
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I got my hair cut a couple of days ago, and I am still deciding whether I like this or not. I'm thinking about putting up a pic soon on the Blog, but I want to make my decision first. I think it is just going to take some getting used to. It is kind of strange how closely my appearance matched that of my mother with this new haircut, although that was never my intent. Infact I just wished to style it to look more wild, and a little shorter; the wild idea just didn't work well but it is shorter and I think I am beginning to come around to like it.
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