a revealing article was published in the Sunday Times concerning an appeal from Moloch's new black saviour who will soon change the world, according to his supporters. Strong, bright, young, predominantly white people - predominantly men, in Europe are just not dying quickly enough, apparently. This offends the new messiah. It appears that Obama requires more blood and he is calling for it, even before he has been sworn into power! He intends to greatly step up the fighting in Afghanistan with thousands more troops, once he takes over.
www.prisonplanet.com/gordon-brown-to-help-barack-obama-lobby-eu-over-troops.html
Brown will obediently take up the call and push for Europe to contribute more youth for the ongoing slaughter to Moloch, the Elite's unfeeling, unforgiving, pitiless God of Greed. A honeymoon period is the perfect time to plot death, hate and mutilation!
Thomas Hardy, my kind of war poet.
“I looked Up From My Writing.”
I looked up from my writing,
And gave a start to see,
As if rapt in my inditing,
The moon's full gaze on me.
Her meditative misty head
Was spectral in its air,
And I involuntarily said,
"What are you doing there?"
"Oh, I've been scanning pond and hole
And waterway hereabout
For the body of one with a sunken soul
Who has put his life-light out.
"Did you hear his frenzied tattle?
It was sorrow for his son
Who is slain in brutish battle,
Though he has injured none.
"And now I am curious to look
Into the blinkered mind
Of one who wants to write a book
In a world of such a kind."
Her temper overwrought me,
And I edged to shun her view,
For I felt assured she thought me
One who should drown him too.
www.salisbury.edu/ncur22/search/Display_NCUR.aspx?id=12784
Drummer Hodge.
They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest
Uncoffined - just as found:
His landmark is a kopje-crest
That breaks the veldt around;
And foreign constellations west
Each night above his mound.
Young Hodge the Drummer never knew -
Fresh from his Wessex home -
The meaning of the broad Karoo,
The Bush, the dusty loam,
And why uprose to nightly view
Strange stars amid the gloam.
Yet portion of that unknown plain
Will Hodge forever be;
His homely Northern breast and brain
Grow to some Southern tree,
And strange-eyed constellation reign
His stars eternally.
http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/SnatchLandRover