Heroes to Zeroes

From Enoch to Johnny and back again – True and Fake British heroes.

Boys’ Own Stories were popular back in the times before the Black Mirror devices that we hold in our sweaty palms, sometimes for our own educational purposes but, mostly, as tracking and data-gathering tools of the Dark Overlords who are attempting to corral us into Central Bank Digital Currencies (CBDC) – heroes populated their pages and the heroes’s trials and tribulations continued right through to the 1970s when I read numerous comics, largely on the themes of adventure, war, comedy and heroism that invariably won out, against all the odds.

This week’s Rogue Cast comes to you from Shipley Hall, near Heanor,  adjacent to which is the former site of the American Adventure theme park:

As a boy, I was an avid reader of the Warlord, Valiant, Tiger and Scorcher, Whizzer and Chips and Marvel comics.

As I look back objectively, it is clear to me that the heroes of yesteryear were admirable and resolute  British heroes – exploration, courage, each possessing the ability to think his way out of a difficult situation were what characterised them.

A much-maligned but nevertheless true Britsh hero was John Enoch Powell MBE (16 June 1912 – 8 February 1998), a classic scholar, critical thinker and war hero – a learned man of action who had the ability to communicate easily and knowledgeably with anyone.

Source
He was, in the final analysis, a great man, a True hero in every sense – he even learned Urdu,  as he had the ambition of becoming the Viceroy of India and which he used to speak with the Pakistani immigrants living in his constituency, Wolverhampton.

Enoch Powell was thus held in high regard by the people of Britain – he was one of their own. He was manifestly a man whose critical thinking abilities, war record and military promotions made him just that – he was a cut above the average man and people readily acknowledged that to be the case.

By comparison to these times of mass-indoctrination and dumbing-down of people, there were times when learning was widely-admired.

I would posit that there is a constructed paucity of boys’ heroes these days.

Philosophy, meanwhile, is the Love of Wisdom – I am in Love with Truth and the Beauty of Truth, which are one and same.

It is always crucial that we remember that, when distilled to its essence,  the Truth is always very simple and easy to express.

If something sounds overly complicated – like quantum physics – it is because it is not true.
This may appear a simplistic stance but it is an effective one to take.

Philosophy is thus eternal

The new feature, the Great British Bell End – GBBE – award goes to Johnny Marr, for the reasons put forward:

Whilst there is no denying Marr’s ability with the guitar, especially in his time with the Smiths who split up in 1987, he does present himself as an intellectual; though in the final analysis, he represents the opposite. He is a pseud. An unthinking dolt who donned a face nappy at the request/instruction of his Freemasonic Masters:

TATTOOED with ridiculous images – none more so than the picture of Aldous Huxley, a supremacist eugenicist and mind-bender behind the Tavistock operations, Marr stands as prize moron.

Far from being a rebel, the individual who is covered in tattoos is part of the blob, the homogenous whole, the sheeple.

Marr is, most likely, a Freemason – as evidenced by his tattoos, the symbology contained in his album covers, magazine photos and videos unequivocally demonstrate that Marr is not a critical thinker but a tattooed vegan member of the complicit Freemasonic club.

The steady and deliberate dilution of heroism was achieved through pop music, glam rock and punk rock.

Further, I assert that there is no such thing as Racism – patriotism is what it used to be called.

There is nothing wrong with choosing to be with your fellow natives, your tribe. As Mohammed Ali put it, birds of a feather flock together: bluebirds flock with fellow bluebirds, the eagle does not seek the company of the robin, sparrows don’t hang out with crows.

I touch, briefly, on a comparison of Steven Patrick Morrissey  and Enoch Powell who was a poet, just like Morrissey and how interesting it is to note that the latter’s first solo gig in 1988 was in Wolverhampton, Powell’s former constituency.

It may seem strange to be referencing Powell and Marr in the same broadcast but the chasm between them is a perfect illustration of where we are right now in terms of heroes.

A hero stands as everything a man can become – he has all the qualities of those who were traditionally regarded as British heroes: the ability to think critically under pressure, a man who takes action based on the Truth and whose rhetoric is characterised by his Love of Wisdom.

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