THE SILENT INVADERS.

THE SILENT INVADERS

The silent invaders enter our country daily. They are silent because of their need to infiltrate unnoticed until they find succour with their own kind.

As time passes they wheedle their way into positions of influence on Town Councils and then on to becoming more influential in stronger positions of power. 

Now, today, we have an unstoppable flow of humanity, which will change our country forever if allowed to continue. This will be a global tragedy because the shining light of Great Britain will be extinguished by the silent invaders who do not posses the ancient culture of our islands. I say 'tragedy' because Great Britain has led the world for centuries and will be sorely missed when the British pedigree of English; Irish, Scottish, Welsh and Commonwealth nations are diluted into some kind of mongrel society that the invaders crave. 

'Political Correctness' is a tool; or should I say 'weapon' with which to shape and bend our natural traits? I think more a weapon; a weapon which silences our natural wont to argue when we know things are moving in the wrong direction.

Our freedom of speech is threatened now more than ever and our government needs to prepare for the coming verbal battles that will transcend into becoming laws that will affect our children and their descendants, thereby initiating the demise of our culture.  

Part of  William Shakespeare's work:  

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth,
Renowned for their deeds as far from home,
For Christian service and true chivalry,
As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry,
Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son,
This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it,
Like to a tenement or pelting farm:
England, bound in with the triumphant sea
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds:
That England, that was wont to conquer others,
Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life,
How happy then were my ensuing death!