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Source: Daily Mail
Our Brussels masters predict that Britain will soon be the most crowded country in the whole of Europe. Presumably this is what they want, since it is their laws that have destroyed our borders and abolished British citizenship and British passports (that wretched puce thing in your pocket is an EU passport, not a British one, and the further east you go, the easier they are to get).
The European Commission says there will be almost 80million people crammed into our landscape by 2058. Just imagine all that concrete, the thousands of square miles (or square kilometres as they will be by then) chewed up by bulldozers.
Imagine the unending 24-hour whoosh and grind of traffic, the bulging trains, the seething, noisy, litter-strewn parks on hot summer Sundays, the crowded schools, the endless waits at enormous polyclinics to see a doctor you’ve never met before and will never see again, who probably doesn’t have English as a first language, and the multicultural schools where half the class will always be from somewhere else. I’m quite glad to think I’ll be dead by then.
I’ve always been unmoved by arguments that immigration benefits’ the country economically. Maybe it does, if you eat at restaurants rather than working in them, and then hurry away to expensive areas where no immigrants live. But for most people it’s an unmixed curse.
For the migrants themselves it is often a journey into exploitation and squalor, miserable pay and ten-to-a-room living conditions. It holds down wages and puts unwanted pressure on services, transport and housing which are already under strain.
But there’s something else about it that is profoundly, heartbreakingly sad. When so many of our fellow creatures don’t speak our language, don’t understand our laws and customs, don’t know our history, can’t read our facial expressions or work out when we’re joking, we live at a lower level than we did before.
This was summed up for me by an article in a magazine for Poles working in Britain.
Please don’t take this as some kind of rant against Poles. If this country is going to be repopulated by anyone, I’d like it to be Poles, whose hard work, resilience and general civilisation can teach a lot of our own young people a useful lesson.
But the article advised opening electricity and gas accounts with bogus personal details.
‘Once you’ve cheated the Communist government and the Iron Curtain, running rings round British Gas is child’s play. How can I pay bills that aren’t addressed to me?’ the writer asked. Then he added: ‘The accounting system in Britain is based on trust.’ That was the bit that choked me up.
For our entire society is – or rather was – based on trust. But from now on it can’t be. Trust exists between people who know each other well, who share a long history together, who are bound by the ties of unselfishness that grow up only in a stable, ancient society.
And now it’s gone. So we must be ruled by snoopers and carry slave-badge ID cards and, soon enough, register with the police before we can have gas or electricity. And we are not a people any more, just inhabitants of a sort of airstrip, where nobody belongs and everyone is entitled to be.
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