Stuff happens so fast and furiously that it is often difficult to keep up with things with one post a day. On July 16 the British Army Chief of Staff, General Sir Richard Dannat, visited British troops in Sangin, Afghanistan, in an American helicopter, explaining that he did so because he didn’t have a British helicopter, renewing the charge against Prime Minister Gordon Brown that he has sent British troops to war without proper equipment or support. Back in June Brown’s Labour Party suffered a humiliating defeat in the European Union parliamentary elections shortly after being defeated in local British elections. The Labour Party is laying its woes at the feet of Brown, whose gaffe at the D-Day ceremonies in Normandy when he referred to the American landings on Omaha beach as Obama beach did not help matters. Many in British political circles view Gordon Brown as a dead man walking, with the expectation that David Cameron’s Conservatives will win the next general election and possibly take Britain out of the European Union. The political life or death of Gordon Brown does not matter to us, but the life or death of Britain does, and the steady erosion of British liberty, influence and power in the face of growing Islamisation, demographic decline and the increasing abandonment of long held western traditions is both saddening and concerning.     

 

 

The man we know as Gordon Brown

Whose grasp exceeds his reach

Has flickered out in London Town

Despite Obama beach

Whose glistening sand and cheery mien

Have done no earthly good

So now Gord Brown must quit the scene

As we all knew he would

But does it matter to us here

Across the briny deep

For no one has the least to fear

The British lion’s leap

The day has passed when who it was

In power really mattered

Her steep decline occurred becuz

Her confidence was shattered

As empire came an empty dream

And socialism’s system

Full thrust the labour unions’ scream

Down throats that di’nt resist ‘em

So now it’s gone, that lovely Isle

That source of law and glory

But close our eyes and we can smile

Recounting England’s story