Allow me to elaborate on the state of this nation (put the kettle on)
I’m sat here watching Question Time and enjoying the debate of extreme right wing politics versus the leftist attitude that appears to have dogged this nation into freefall.
We’re pretty much on edge, my family and I. In the two years we’ve been living in our current abode, we’ve been burgled three times, attempted burglary twice and minor petty theft a few.
Immediate assumptions will no doubt question the quality of my locale. Fact is, it’s an affluent area in North London and is somewhat well regarded as a ‘family friendly’ region. It is unfortunate that the very nature of London is a celebration of ethnic and cultural diversity. A hub of cosmopolitan and cross national activity, it has become so rich in identity that in tragic ironic circumstance, it also has none.
The house in question is a dream home. Bought at the absolute peak of the housing boom, the region is so independant in it’s own little micro-economy, it’s amazing to have found that the value of the property has actually increased considerably – relatively speaking. It’s your pretty standard fare of being a 4 bedroom house with a separate garage, front garden and back garden, driveway etc. Suburban idealist living.
About a year after moving in, I fell ill with flu and decided to take the day off and sit at home. Whilst in bed, the distant sound of chaos attempted to drive through my dreams. Feverous temperatures normally tell my brain to switch off strange, uncommon sounds. But the persistance of the sounds piqued my curiosity and in my drunken like stupor, I dragged my heals across the floor to the staircase and started to descend. Half way down, the stark, shocking realisation that I wasn’t alone suddenly cleared my head of any dull, smokescreen. To then find two africans standing there, in my living room, hoods erected to disguise themselves, was the single most effective wake up call I’ve ever experienced. A sudden rush of adrenaline had me leap the final steps and curse towards their direction.
Between you and I, reader, it was all an elaborate con. I’m not really a violent man, but I had to show agression. What, also, were to happen had they called my bluff, turned around and said “Yeah, what?”
Thankfully, they paniced more than I, perhaps not really expecting anybody at home. As they scalped themselves diving headfirst out of the window, I chased them out onto the street in my undies.
Since then, I’ve had a bike stolen – twice. The lastest was my pride and joy, the Cannondale carbon leftie. All this has culminated in another attempted break in last week where somebody had tried to wedge a tool of some description behind the handle of my front door.
Each successive time I am intruded upon, I improve my security. Right now, I have a high quality alarm. I’ve rebuild all my security doors. I’ve got double glazing ALL around, including new doors. I’ve bricked up my window of my garage and replaced the door with a security door. I’ve rebuilt my gate into a secure version, together with anit-pigeon nails. We’ve done our driveway, opened it up and fitted security lights all around.
I wrote to my Borough Commander, the Chief Superintendant of my borough. I explained how despondant I was and that I no longer wanted visits from community support officers telling me of ways to improve my security. Enough! I claimed, no more onus on me – what are the Police to do about this? How will they demonstrate the protection we need from them?
After two months, I received a reply. Except, it wasn’t from him. It wasn’t even pp’ed. It was a generic letter written to me from a staffer, apologising and telling me, exactly as would a politician, that they try the best they can with resources they have and have a happy life thanks goodbye.
In fact, I hadn’t finished reading the letter before it hit the bottom of my bin. Pathetic.
I’ve recently been arguing with my local station about what they will do about this. Again, I’m called by ‘Community Support Officers’ and ‘Victims Support’ call centres. I don’t fucking want consolation, I also don’t want rehab nor do I want any other stupid, fucking leftist concept of crime prevention in my life. It’s making me screwy mad. The two intruders are KNOWN to the police – they have DNA samples and fingerprints from my home. They KNOW where they live!! They know they’re out, right now, committing a crime somewhere yet they can do fuck all.
I had a the station sergeant ring me and tell me not to bother going into the station as I’d be told the same thing – there’s nothing else that can be done for me. I yell and shout, I get angry, I get vexxed. I’m told that they simply do not have the police resources to do the job they want. I cry ‘foul’ – bollox. It’s simply untrue, so I unwind onto them……
Back in May sometime, my wife ‘allegedly’ clipped the wingmirror of a parked car. Disputes followed, in the end I paid up the £250.00 for a new wing mirror and left it at that. She has since received a court summons form the Crime Prosecution Service for (1) driving without due care and attention and (2) failing to stop at a scene of an accident. I kid you not. Would somebody on planet sanity please explain to me how this can be of ANY benefit to the tax payer? We’re ushered into court where the bloke in front is let go with a £200 fine for driving over the weight limit in his lorry, without insurance. Why doesn’t he have insurance? Because he has no license. Why not? Because he’s an asylum seeker.
I went out Monday night as you may have read. I was flashed by a camera three times and I was stopped by police three times on the way home.
How on earth can they claim that they have no resources when it’s quite clear that the decent, law abiding, tax paying responsible citizens of this country are penalised for simply being citizens??
Something bad is going to happen. Either I’m going to take the law into my own hands and mash the head of an intruder in with a 6 cell Maglite torch, leading to my arrest, loss of business, loss of income, etc, etc. Or, the police will find me in a pool of blood with one of my own kitchen knives embedded kindly into my chest. The press will then get a hold of this story and discover that I’d been pleading with the police to do something about it, to appropriate their spending into areas that PROTECT those that are responsible, not persecute.
Thank you very much labour, you’ve fucked and sodomised this country into the next decade. As I sit here at 12am, I await my fate with the prospect of three fines arriving at my doormat over the next few weeks. Nick Griffin isn’t a very nice man. In fact, he didn’t really appear to be an intelligent man. But he’s sitting in a golden opportunity as he offers the people of UK a right wing view of England that is almost utopian in comparison to the liberal ideals of the 21st century. It really is no wonder that he’s gaining voters and unless a respectable party wisens up to the problems of the man on the street, then those gaps are going to increase.
In Jurassic Park, they recreated a dinosaur from a DNA sample. Is it possible to do that with Maggie?1