23 July, 2010
Shooting oneself in the foot
But then again most recipients of this kind of honour are not exactly laconically nonchalant about it.
— "Hi, Nick! Been to Moss Bros? What's with the flash whistle?"
— "Oh, nothing special, mate. I've been invited to some posh bird's gaff dahn Victoria way for a mug of rosy and some cucumber sarnies. See ya."
I don't think so. As for politicizing the event. Well surely that was driven by the media. Which do you believe happened:
— "GMTV? Hi, it's Nasty Nick here. I'd like to invite myself onto the sofa to leverage the public-relations benefit of my invitation to a royal garden party."
— "Mr Griffin? Hello, it's Claire here from GMTV. You being such a controversial™ figure and all, and with the political and media frenzy surrounding your invite, we'd like to interview you on tomorrow morning's show."
Criticizing the BNP for being in the media spotlight is reminiscent of those "antifascists" who would quite cheerfully physically assault Griffin if they got close enough then accusing him of being a Nazi thug when he surrounds himself with bodyguards.
And that stuff about increased security risk? What was that about? Expecting an outraged guest to take a pop at him, were we? Or a showing by the self-righteous onanists of the UAF? Suddenly thought of these possibilities on the very morning of the do, did we?
No, someone was desperate to find a way of excluding Griffin while managing to palm the blame and reputational damage off onto him. And this paper-thin nonsense was the best they could manage as time was running out.
(It reminds me of when a blogger, who shall remain nameless, was so desperate to abuse me during a rather heated exchange that he accused me of wanting to amputate one of the limbs of his mixed-heritage wife and repatriate it to the relevant ancestral homeland. The invective did rather lose much of its rhetorical force when he had to explain that the mixed heritage was due to his wife being ... er ... one-eighth Danish. Wow! I wouldn't be at all surprised if I owed a greater proportion than that of my own genetic heritage to those naughty Viking lads who sailed their longboats up the Mersey a millennium or so ago.)
No, there's something odd about this nonsense. I doubt if it's down to the Queen herself. Whether you are a Monarchist or an Anti-Monarchist (or, like me, neither), you have to admit the woman is a professional. She would have the diplomatic and political savvy not to create a mountain out of a non-existent molehill.
So what's it all about?
So desperate are they to stop the BNP from gaining seats in the European Parliament that the partially government-funded Searchlight organization co-ordinates the most intensive media smear campaign I have seen in my lifetime. And when that is only partly successful, so desperate are they to exclude Griffin and Brons from access to the Palace of Westminster that they withdraw the pass privileges of all UK MEPs. The Government's equalities quango conducts a vindictive and highly-selective campaign against the BNP's membership rules with the clear intention of either splitting or bankrupting the party. Yet the NF (too insignificant?) and the Black Police Association (our sort of people?) are ignored. (You think the BPA is open to all races without restriction? Check this out.)
And yet Ketlan and Denise at Lancaster Unity reassure us on an almost daily basis that the BNP is teetering on the brink of collapse. The news media and the Leftish blogosphere gloat over the BNP's poor showing in the recent general and local elections. The blip is over, they assure us. The BNP are knuckledragging cretins of no consequence, we are told from all sides.
So why are they so afraid of them? Why is so much effort put in to thwarting the BNP at every possible turn? At whatever expense in embarrassment or inconvenience? If they are so insignificant, so irrelevant, limited in their support to a handful of the usual nutters, why are the great and the good not simply ignoring them?
They're afraid of something, aren't they?
I'll leave you with an anecdote. On the train the other day, I listened to a conversation between two young men. Rude of me, I know, but like most people I lack the necessary musculature to discreetly "avert my ears". They appeared to be in their late 20s and — if you'll pardon a stereotype, but an effective one — of the respectable White working class. They were discussing race-related issues in the East End and in South London in the guarded terms that come naturally to White people under 50, when one said in serious and concerned tones, "It's building up to something", after which they lowered their voices.
He's right. It is. And I think "They" are shit-scared.