The Heart Of Britain: By Edward Flynn (Submitted As Comment On Yesterday's Peter O'Toole Post)
"Is Starmer The New Queen, If You Know What I Mean?"
Editorial note: When I write something, it’s a good beginning, but the way I see it, it gets worked through until it becomes something clearer and brighter, by way of the “comments” (we need a better word.) The exact metaphor is sea glass, which I just discovered has its own subculture. (See link.) I want to do this more often, but the form (Substack) goes against it, because each post is like a boy throwing a rolled newspaper at a door in the 1950s with a thud. It’s a form of electronic intrusion, and I don’t want to post too many things and annoy people. So the end result is an editorial injustice. Countless pieces of sea glass that don’t get published as posts, but should. Only because it all gets away from me, I’m overwhelmed, and I have to limit the sheer number of posts. I comfort myself that the comments section is still public and published, even without my re-framing. When I published Peter O’Toole’s hilarious bar story yesterday, I meant to cast him as British, not Irish, as his Irishness has been disputed (by the Irish.) Edward Flynn’s writing here brings out Britishness, as distinct from the Orwellian swill coming out of Starmer’s London. We aim to stop the tide of cheap, mimetic thought forms, slow it way down, and give people, events, and nations the kind of fine brush stroke details they deserve, which counter the mirthless technocrats, and journalists who have stopped even trying to tell a human story.
To that end, here’s what Edward wrote:
—Celia Farber
England used to swing like a pendulum do. I’m reminded of Peter’s wife, Sian Phillips … her portrayal of Claudius’s Gramma Livia terrorizes me to this day. Somehow Britain’s endlessly fascinating, incredibly rich, ceaselessly ironic and often perfidious history works its way into Peter O’Toole’s priceless, ironic, dry humor. He is not perfidious, of course, one of the greatest of all time, but perfidy has reared its ugly head again: the elites are up to their old tricks. I read a piece about Australian and NZ cavalry charging the machine guns of Beersheba. WTF were they doing in the Middle East? What were the Irish doing at Gallipoli? Dying for the Queen? Is Starmer the new “Queen,” if you know what I mean?
What now? Tommies supposed to die in Ukraine? It’s time to say “No” to the wicked City of London and the Crown. One of those Hazelnut gizmos would leave a nice neat hole in the ground where City of London used to be. A new paradigm in British history is about to emerge that repudiates the queer leadership dedicated to mind control, forced vaccines and child trafficking. All engineered to wipe out the ancient culture. Where are the rosy red cheeks of the little children? Were they shot up with COVID injections?
A popular revolt is brewing in background. “Britons never never never will be slaves”. As they say, if you vote in a leftist government you may have to shoot your way out.
The heart of Britain resides in their literature … ideas and values we will share with them forever. Their great actors are its stewards. Themes of social comment churn throughout … the evil of the elites cannot long hold up to the will of freeborn Britons. I’m romanticizing but hopeful. Hope they are up to it.
Here’s a line from Shakespeare; “Let York o’erlook the Town of York.” Our daughter delivered that line in a student play … and scared the hell out of the audience.
May Starmer and Macron o’erlook their respective capital cities.
—Edward Flynn
Footnote: The Irish At Gallipoli (An excellent piece of historical journalism)
Dear sweet Celia, with the pretty name, and endowed with inner and outer pulchritude, radfem fools would say to me "how dare you be so "sexissssss."
I am almost full Irish but have a dash of Scottish in me. I would not urinate on the best part of stooge starmer, or macron, or turdo, or biDUMB or ovomit. These all are useless idiot wasters of good skin and air.
Britain has been wrecked and is in fact now slave to fake males, DP's as my mother referred to them as, and wussie males. According to the scriptures, all fake leaders listed above are going to hell.
Is it wrong for me to feel affectionate towards real women or should I regress into the typeset of the nutless wonders of the LIEberal loon sect? Bloody hell no! But there exist sheeple male limp wristed loons who would and have sought to oppose the real man perspective that sex traffickers need to be executed instead of hidden in their establishment of inner sh*itty enclaves that push female genital mutilation and child bride slaves.
To the wussie bobbies and council clowns who ignored these abuses of girls/women, I impose that execution needed to be used on bangladeshi moslem males. I learned long ago how to cut throats in the process known as killing and processing farm animals for food. I am sure there are my counterparts in the country parts of Britain.
And for the cowardice of these bastards who refused to protect little British girls, they should be flogged with a whip imbedded with sharp bones, then cast into the gutter to live or die. How do such cowardly reprobates look into a mirror without puking, let alone attaining unto a decent erection?
Fake males I call them, and I have as much respect for these minions of cowardice as I have for the CYSTem that not only allows injustice but imposes it!!!! i have read that Britain is heading into a civil war. At last good news!
Celia thanks. Tachyons. Everything is connected. I've been collecting sea glass for a few months. It has wonderful energies. A local collector much more experienced than me showed me a photo of his prized 'pirate glass' which seems a black stone, until a phone-torchlight is shone through it, to reveal that it's actually translucent green. https://bytheseajewelry.com/products/pirates-booty-black-sea-glass-ring-in-sterling-fine-silver-size-9-5.html