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nick w's avatar

All very interesting David, but all these paid actors are only- at best- halfway up the illuminati pyramid.

When can good researchers- like you- get to the top of the pyramid to look at the Roman See/papal bloodlines; Orsini, Farnese, Colonna, Aldobrandini, Pallevicini etc...? The Jesuits- apparently in charge of the counterfeit money system known as the central banks/IMF/BIS and the three letter intelligence agencies (Jesuit controlled terrorists/murderers for the counterfeit money system)

Until the top becomes widespread knowledge, they will continue to fuck us over with their bankrupted currencies, captured Western political theatre and puppeticians like Starmer/Burnham and UN Agenda 2030 fronts/climate scams/digital ID's/counterfeit CBDC's etc...

The Custodian's avatar

Gruel, Britannia: Has History Ever Produced a Bigger Lapdog Than the British State?

​From ruling the waves to begging for slop: How British diplomacy traded an empire for a leash and a bowl of cold porridge.

​[Content Warning: This article contains explicit language, graphic political metaphors, and harsh polemical satire.]

​Has human history ever produced a creature quite so spectacularly obsequious, quite so determinedly tail-wagging, as the modern British state?

​History is littered with vassal states, tributary kingdoms, and nervous buffer zones, but none have ever worn their leash with such desperate, polished pride. Rome had its client kings and the Soviets had their Warsaw Pact puppets, but those poor souls at least had the decency to look sullen while taking orders. The modern British establishment, by contrast, leaps onto its hind legs, polishes its own studded collar, and publishes a White Paper explaining why being patted on the head is actually a masterstroke of sovereign diplomacy.

​Gruel, Britannia! Britannia waives the rules—

Begging bowl in hand like Oliver at school!

​Forget ruling the waves; modern British foreign policy is essentially Oliver Twist in a bespoke Savile Row suit, timidly stepping up to Uncle Sam’s counter with an empty tin bowl, quavering, 'Please, sir, I want some more.' Except in our tragic geopolitical remake, when Washington slaps a dollop of unseasoned porridge into our bowl, Whitehall does not revolt. Instead, it immediately curtsies, praises the exquisite nutritional profile of American oats, and drafts a glowing thank-you note for the privilege of licking the spoon.

​I have long made a sport of mocking the Americans and their tragic inability to speak English properly—mangling the language, flattening the vowels, and treating prose like disposable packaging. But in truth, why would they ever bother acquiring such a refined art? Why master the subtle craft of eloquence or romantic words when you can get an entire empire to assume the doggy position without so much as buying them dinner first? Eloquence is for suitors; power demands no preliminary charm—and clearly, no lubrication required either.

​We endlessly parade the phrase 'The Special Relationship'—a sordid euphemism that carries all the structural equality, warmth, and consent of the 'special relationships' Jeffrey Epstein maintained with little girls. It is a toxic, predatory arrangement of pure coercion and submission, yet we insist on framing it as a grand romance of equals.

​When Washington sneezes, London does not merely catch a cold—it preemptively checks itself into intensive care and sends a thank-you basket for the phlegm. As Edmund Burke dryly observed, 'Servility to the great has its own compensation.' For modern Britain, that compensation appears to be a thin bowl of lukewarm slop, a firm leash, and a polite instruction to mind our manners while we swallow it.

​G.K. Chesterton famously wrote, 'A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it.' Good heavens, how gracefully the British state floats down the river of foreign dictation, utterly convinced that drifting along on someone else’s current constitutes world-class navigation. We are not a sovereign nation executing strategy; we are, quite simply, the USA's bitch.

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