WATCHING THE RIVER FLOW

NOW THAT HISTORY IS MATCHING THE FUTURE pound for pound, perhaps we should consider a tale of two British voices. History speaks first. Controversial British politician Enoch Powell throws himself on the pyre of political correctness, and suffers the black and white result we now produce in color and in common all across the world with tragically discouraging results in far too many situations to continue to ignore.

Parrhesia is the moral concept of speaking truth to power, never an easy task in the past, hardly the present, nor God help us in the future to be certain. Powell's speech "Rivers of Blood" spoke to the power of his time and ours. The consequences of what happened to Powell and the civilization he sought to preserve are now upon our brow. We can continue to ignore the evidence that is before us, or miserably cling to a broken idea that was mismanaged with great care for several generations unto the present hour.

But let's start simple. Rabid, unchecked, inflexible multiculturalism is damning the world to a poverty of reason and a gross impersonal terror upon civilization.

As one commentator put it, "Multiculturalism is cancer, the school system has bred an entire generation of weak and sniveling cowards who are more concerned with being politically correct, bowing to the money of their new masters, than they are in comporting to a rational strategy in maintaining their own most basic interests."

It's no secret among those who can connect the damned dots without paying homage to that snarling beast of MSM that Great Britain is breaking down rapidly, right along the precise fault lines that Powell predicted, but the folks who have bought heavily into Beatle logic refuse to deal with what their stance has wrought. The left-wing of Britain, enforced with prejudice by the EU, has successfully destroyed the future of the UK, short of all out civil war, it seems. But that is what THEY THE MULTICULTURALIST ELITES had planned all along. The Marxist snarl is a smiling face supported by a toothless but pervasive police power and a lawmaker's holiday. British columnist Melanie Phillips writes:

This new strategy entails targeting countries with a substantial Muslim presence for 'low-intensity warfare' comprising bombings, kidnappings, the taking of hostages, the use of women and children as human shields, beheadings and other attacks that make normal life impossible.

So, al Qaeda, according to Phillips, plans to target countries with a substantial Muslim presence for low-intensity terrorist warfare along the lines of the Bombay attack that would make normal life in those countries impossible. Isn't that phrase, "substantial Muslim presence," uh, telling us something? Something connected with the non-discriminatory immigration policies that have brought into existence the substantial Muslim presence in Western countries?

Phillips writes that Britain is highly vulnerable to the threat of Bombay-type attacks, and she expresses great anxiety about it, but she ends the article without a single mention of a possible course of action. The thought evidently doesn't even cross her mind: "Shouldn't we at least stop further Muslim immigration into Britain? And those 2,000 known terrorists currently under surveillance by the police—shouldn't we just, uh, remove them from our neighborhoods, expel them or neutralize them by any means within the laws already on the books?"

Note: Britain is busily whitewashing their laws against treason and other high crimes and misdemeanors against the state, so as not to offend those who will soon rule over them.

While Phillips repeatedly insisted in her 2006 book—Londonistan— that Muslim immigration into Britain had been a "lethal" development, she has never proposed that Muslim immigration be reduced by so much as a single Muslim per year. If Melanie truly fears and loathes the lethal, her own submission to liberalism in power doesn't convince her that she should call for anything to stop this lethal policy.

Such is the mindset of the modest American liberal and moderate appeasers, also. Better to drown oneself in yesterday's details than imagine the impact of tomorrow's invoices. The drama is excruciatingly loud and proud but is also effectively muffled by the beautiful sway of political incorrectness. Incorrect because it reeks of wrongness and moral insanity not for the idea itself, but for the brutality of its consequences. Incorrect because I refuse to call this upside down political phenomenon politically correct. I slip occasionally, but I am earnestly resisting this disturbing groupthink.

Here's the second part of the Rivers of Blood video series, and a classic Bob Dylan track to help those, whose fertile minds haven't glazed over in self-righteousness yet, to ease the existential angst served up when having to rethink yesterday's task again today without much thought of what tomorrow's task may require.

NEIGHBORHOOD BULLY

Lyrics by Bob Dylan, Infidel LP, 1983

Well, the neighborhood bully, he's just one man,
His enemies say he's on their land.
They got him outnumbered about a million to one,
He got no place to escape to, no place to run.
He's the neighborhood bully.

The neighborhood bully just lives to survive,
He's criticized and condemned for being alive.
He's not supposed to fight back, he's supposed to have thick skin,
He's supposed to lay down and die when his door is kicked in.
He's the neighborhood bully.

The neighborhood bully been driven out of every land,
He's wandered the earth an exiled man.
Seen his family scattered, his people hounded and torn,
He's always on trial for just being born.
He's the neighborhood bully.

Well, he knocked out a lynch mob, he was criticized,
Old women condemned him, said he should apologize.
Then he destroyed a bomb factory, nobody was glad.
The bombs were meant for him.
He was supposed to feel bad.
He's the neighborhood bully.

Well, the chances are against it and the odds are slim
That he'll live by the rules that the world makes for him,
'Cause there's a noose at his neck and a gun at his back
And a license to kill him is given out to every maniac.
He's the neighborhood bully.

He got no allies to really speak of.
What he gets he must pay for, he don't get it out of love.
He buys obsolete weapons and he won't be denied
But no one sends flesh and blood to fight by his side.
He's the neighborhood bully.

Well, he's surrounded by pacifists who all want peace,
They pray for it nightly that the bloodshed must cease.
Now, they wouldn't hurt a fly.
To hurt one they would weep.
They lay and they wait for this bully to fall asleep.
He's the neighborhood bully.

Every empire that's enslaved him is gone,
Egypt and Rome, even the great Babylon.
He's made a garden of paradise in the desert sand,
In bed with nobody, under no one's command.
He's the neighborhood bully.

Now his holiest books have been trampled upon,
No contract he signed was worth what it was written on.
He took the crumbs of the world and he turned it into wealth,
Took sickness and disease and he turned it into health.
He's the neighborhood bully.

What's anybody indebted to him for?
Nothin', they say.
He just likes to cause war.
Pride and prejudice and superstition indeed,
They wait for this bully like a dog waits to feed.
He's the neighborhood bully.

What has he done to wear so many scars?
Does he change the course of rivers?
Does he pollute the moon and stars?
Neighborhood bully, standing on the hill,
Running out the clock, time standing still,
Neighborhood bully.