CONTINENT CUT OFF
Juan Manuel de Prada
June 25, 2016
|Battle of Salamanca (1812): Under Wellington, British, Portuguese, and Spanish |
Forces defeat Napoleonic troops and free the Iberian peninsula
What happens with democracy is the same as what happens with the stars of modern bullfighting: the fights only end well for them when they contend with bulls with cut horns; if it falls to them to fight a bull with full horns, they forget their posture, start to tremble, and end up being gored.
So it happened with the British referendum, which was a great bull thrown into the arena of democracy -- this charade that Money control at will while they provide it with bulls with cut horns, which they can fight with a stock-market panic here and a media distortion campaign there. But this referendum unearthed the inner ghosts of a Deep England which identified in the disgraceful European Union the humiliations suffered in its old age; and the old Englishman, fed up with being trampled upon, and with the most debasing derision being inflicted upon him (including a Mohammedan mayor in London!), decided to gore, in a dying gesture of bravery.
Luis Calvo used to say that, if the Spaniard is the man of "suffer it", the Englishman is the man of "fix it". Thus it happened, for instance, when the English went up to the hill of regicide, revolution, and dictatorship with Cromwell, rectifying it afterwards with a truce between Crown and Parliament. In this new "fix it" of the British, there is the nostalgia of lost grandeur and this feature of delirious insolence (but not without a certain valor) that they used to have, by saying in their papers, each time a storm appeared in the Channel, "Continent cut off". The only moment in which the British did not fix their previous error was when they joined the Reformation, that Belloc (rightfully) considers the most tragic even in History; and they did it -- we quote here the author of "Europe and the Faith" -- because "the economic power of a small class of wealthy men had grown" so much that they could subject the people. This "small, too wealthy class, tainted with atheism" was the one that made use of the weaknesses of the groin of a corrupt king to enslave the English; and this same class, that has for a long time made use of the weaknesses of the groins of the peoples to keep them enslaved, is the same that now tears up their clothes in desperation with the results of the British referendum.
Since we do not fool ourselves, we know that the result of this referendum doesn't mean anything: first, because Money will not give up, and will plot every kind of ruse in order to distort the popular verdict; and, above all, because, as Quevedo taught us, "the one who merely changes his place, but not his life and habits, never improves his condition." And as long as the British do not change their lives and habits, Money will know how to manipulate them to keep them enslaved, as they do to the other nations.
Yet today Money and Globalism have been spat upon all over their faces; and their European monster, created in order for the Barbarians to dominate the peoples who were once provinces of Rome, is a wobbly boxer. Days of pain are coming, in which Money will have us pay, with interest, for British pride; but pain at times presages the joys of childbirth. At this moment, I can think of no better gift on the day of my Saint [June 24] than to look at the Brussels-sprouts-like face of the defenders of the European machination. Also we who cry out in the wilderness deserve, once in a while, some joy, even though a passing one. And on this fateful day for Globalism, I extend my hand to the English bulldog, which is something that a Spaniard does in only extremely exceptional occasions: in the Battle of Salamanca, for instance; or on this joyful feast of Saint John the Baptist of the Year of Our Lord 2016.