You got to love the British … or hate them. Being Irish I tend to hate them, especially at this time of the year when the poppy blooms on every chest on British TV. What is obscure becomes clear around the beginning of each November. How do the British get away with murder? How does British ideology work? How does imperialism infect the British mind? Why is Britain immune to justice? And how does it revitalize itself before it’s next crime against humanity?
The British get away with it all by acting the victim. Or by claiming that it’s military when killing foreigners in foreign lands are innocent and deserves our pity, which amounts to the same thing. In particular a cult is manufactured around Britain’s dead soldiers. A cult that the British public is force fed. The myth is that Britain’s war dead “died protecting us” and it is hammered home every November. Father Christmas comes in December, but before him there’s the arrival of Britain’s ghost army. And like Father Christmas the fallen British soldier is the color of a can of Coke.
The British Holocaust Industry- like the Israeli Holocaust Industry – is rooted in Europe’s modern killing fields. But whereas the Jews were innocent victims, Britain’s soldiers were not. However, to the industrialist this distinction is irrelevant. For him or her the point is that dead Jews and dead Brits are great salesmen. One sells Israel and the other sells imperialism. In short, massive political economies are placed on the shoulders of these dead souls. And considering the close relationship between Britain and Israel (imperialism and Zionism) these two Holocaust Industries not only complement each other, but are partners in a nefarious war against the living. The Brits like the Zionists dig up their dead not to honor them, but to exploit them and target us. Similar to the can of Coke the poppy is attractive to our eyes. Nevertheless, it is a cheap marketing trick.
The poppy originally signified a problem, but today it signifies solidarity with Empire. The problem was World War I and the pointless waste of life that it brought about. The poppy originally was a silent critique of the leadership that led the soldiers to the slaughterhouse. It was a protest – not a symbol of blind patriotism. But today 90 or so years later, the industrialists have turned it around. The poppy now is all about British patriotism rather than British questioning. And the patriotism in question (and here is the extremely sinister side of the poppy) not only harks back to World War I, but also includes the British soldiers who perish in the wars of today. Not only are the graves of Flanders reinvented and remembered, but so too is every other killing field the British have made since then. So what began as a “never again” has become a “forever again”. Hence the British soldiers who gave us the European Holocaust have zero shame today, while engineering an Arab Holocaust. The industrialists (or should that be the financiers) just repackage them and pull our emotional strings until we sympathize with them as we do with the can of Coke.
However, it’s not just the British, it’s the Irish too. I’m beginning to hate myself as well. After giving away its sovereignty to the banks, Ireland is now giving away its memory to the Empire. A few days ago in the streets of Dublin I saw for the first time a poppy on a chest. And on the same day I saw another rare sight – a large Union Jack on someone’s wool hat. And to cap it all off I heard the leader of the Irish Labour Party recall with respect and admiration the Irish who died for the British Empire back in World War I. In today’s clueless Ireland nothing connects. Not only are the past and present unrelated but each is passively consumed like that tasteless can of Coke. The Irish Famine never happened. And British Fascism doesn’t exist.