I missed, owing to commitments, the usually moving parade yesterday, of what my doddery old dad used to call “all the other poor old chaps”, down our High Street to the War Memorial. (Queen Victoria’s huge statue has been recently cleaned and remounted by the Soviet, but is now facing away from the Town centre and the grand memorial, which seems illogical until you find the Soviet is hung-Libdem/others. At least they did not melt her down altogether.)
Every year, the number of poor old chaps gets a little smaller. Until a few years ago, lots of them were Poles, but the new generation of Polish immigrants wants nothing to do with history, preferring to cuddle up to Germany, letting Russia near its arse in the process with all the baleful consequences of that sexual position, and votes for Donald Tusk. Those that come here do jobs from MacDonald’s, ranging to teaching-assistants, through to advanced machine-joinery in mega-staircase-firms for hundreds of pounds a week. Good for them, but God help them for their rediscovered political naivety.
The Torygraph does a sterling job with its military obituaries, and we learn a lot of detailed history thereby, but WW1 is now passing truly out of living memory and WW2 can’t be far behind. Already, British State school students find it hard to distinguish the details of either from the other, or even from reality versus legend – perhaps they are right in one especially philosphical sort of way!
Even the Poppy says “HAIG FUND” no more, sporting the post-modern “POPPY APPEAL” logo instead. The deliberate ritual destruction of the market-civilisation that gave life to liberalism, individual rights, and “modern pluralist” “democracy” means that there will come a time, as with Christmas and Easter, when people will sort of give plastic poppies to each other in early November, maybe have parties and barbecues on the nearest Friday or Saturday after “Firework Night” (it’s gobal warm-mongering-time remember!) and exchange presents such as ipods and Prada bags, without knowing quite why they do it.
The vast but moving rhetorical inscriptions on the memorials round these parts will crumble into unreadability, without anyone noting or caring what they once portended for us today. I posted onw for you a few months ago. The loss of many – mostly young – men (it was not considered suitable for women to fight, and it still ought not to be – this is not a libertarian issue, merely a sociobioligical one – sorry) will pass into legend not as a defence of liberty – which it was an effect of – but as some sort of evil experiment by generals, conducted upon “the People” as unwilling guinea-pigs. “Lions led by Donkeys” is what is now taught. No mention of an objective of either war features anywhere, nor a value-judgement about the desired outcome which ought to be obvious to the proverbial child of six.
The Health Nazis have already got their teeth into aspects of it. You should have seen the crowd-control barriers which were up as early as a week ago; worthy of the stuff you’d put on airports to stop petrol-laden 4x4s getting onto runways. None of that stuff was at the Cenotaph in the early 80s, even when we were at war with the NUM, university lefties, the USSR and the IRA all at once. Perhaps we were stronger people then.
I think sadly that people will from now on drift away, as the generation of grandparents which remembers vaguely the last “big one”, dies off. What it was all for, which is the most important aspect, is by way of being forgotten already. Even Falklands veterans are oldish now; their war will be progressively painted and tainted, and unpopular to the New Enemy Class. They will be forgotten quickly, along with the very public lesson they taught the world about property-rights.
Then there’ll be legislation about “unauthorised public gatherings in public places”, it will be found “difficult” to “authorise” a ceremony unless a bribe is paid (it will be called a “license fee”) and that will be that.