Talking with Tilbrook

The three most important #NoDeal #Brexit Bombshells contained within the interview

  • The new prime minister could exit the EU immiediately (technically on the 29th of March) merely by conceding Robin Tilbrook’s case in the high court.
  • ‘A couple’ of the Conservative leadership candidates have discussed just this with Robin.
  • If Scotland voted for independence it would bring the United Kingdom and Northern Ireland out of the EU, as the United Kingdom would no longer exist.

 

Conceding #RobinTilbrooks case

 

Parliament, the Cabinet, the civil service and the judiciary would have no recourse and no power to prevent this. There could be no legal challenge and no delay, it would mean that we were already out of the EU without a deal thereby saving £40 billion pounds, and also gaining roughly £25 billion per annum tarif revenue which currently goes to Juncker’s brandy fund.

 

Where do these tarifs come from?

 

The EU operates a custom’s union, which basically means they control the tarifs on our considerable trade with the rest of the World. For instance if a business wanted to buy a Japanese truck ( they do make excellent ones) then the price would include a 24% tarif imposed by the EU.

This tarif is something that the EU considers to be it’s own resources, an EU stealth tax. Another is VAT, few realise that a proportion of our VAT also funds the EU.

Post no deal brexit however not only do we keep this EU stealth tax for ourselves, which on our RoW trade amounts to over £12 billion, we also collect tarifs on the massive number of imports from the EU. Which would at least match the £12 billion from the RoW trade.

So after a no deal brexit if some Londoner, like thousands of others, buy a BMW or a Mercedes then the exchequer would receive a 10% tariff on the purchase. In other words BMW would be paying some of your taxes for you.

 

Think of it as a car boot sale…

 

Currently we pay the EU £18 p/a to be part of their car boot sale. We can wander round the German and French cars buying their tat with no fees but if we want to buy from an American then the fat drunken Belgian on the gate takes 10% and pockets it.

Things are generally much cheaper outside this Belgian field, particularly food and drink, so the fat Belgian makes sure we don’t stray by pocketing huge tarifs on such to ensure the French cars with their poncy fare are competitive.

Take as an example Kenco, which used to be the Kenyan Coffee Company. The fat Belgian imposes such ridiculous tarifs on jars of Kenyan coffee that they can’t make a profit by selling these to British cars. If they didn’t tarif them we wouldn’t buy the more expensive stuff from Nestle etc. The tarifs on raw coffee beans however are low, so to trade with us they have to sell their raw unpackaged coffee to the krauts, who then roast and package it and sell it to us ‘tarif free’. In fact Kenco jars rarely contain any actual Kenyan coffee.

Which means we aren’t being very nice to our Kenyan friends.

 

So what changes post No Deal brexit?

 

We have our own car boot sale effectively. As we had for hundreds of years before joining the EU. The chap on the front gate is British and has a sense of decency and fair play.

We don’t pay any fees to another country for our own car boot sale and the eurotrash has to compete with the, much lower, world prices. We still have tarifs for goods that we don’t make and the proceeds from these come off your tax bill.

Buy a British built car and nothing to pay. But whether you buy a French or an American car they pay the same tarif. The fat Belgian no longer pockets £12 billion a year, or our £18 billion entry fee, in fact the European cars that want to trade with us have to pay us. And this would be very significant, £13 billion a year is probably very conservative.

We don’t grow coffee in the UK so what is the point in having tarifs on it? Rather than keeping Germans in work by importing it raw, packaging and marketting coffee the Kenyans themselves can do so and keep the value added to their product. Which means lower prices for us and more money for them. They would control the entire value chain rather than the pittance for merely growing it.

And with the Kenyan coffee stall doing a roaring trade, they’d probably have a look at spending some of their profits on the things which we produce.

Which would be nice.

Advertisements

Gun me down.

Broken ‘pon the Duluth wheel I was, just a couple of years ago.
The smiling snitch with the liar’s itch defamed me don’t ya know.
A state paid feminist, duplicity’s hedonist, my family in her sights.
With remorseless cruelty, and viscious surety gunned ’em down with great delight.

 
Virgil Caine, not my real name, returned from Afghan’s plains.
For a new life, with my wife, met just weeks before entrained.
From Yorkshire Dales to Banks’ Ales upped and left familial ties.
A government job, domesticity slob, we built and multiplied.

 

Blood neath my feet, the nation’s peat, made sense to me a yore.
Freedom of speech, naysayers weak, fought and won for centurys fore.
A man’s home his castle, State couldn’t hassle, Equality under the law.
And grace assumed, manners groomed, the pen mightier than the maw.

 

Well I don’t mind tellin’ you, inquisitive fellow dude, things are not so now.
A knock on the door, a concern du jour, Social worker furrows her brow.
And at that point, responsibility joint, Leviathan follows it’s macabre script.
Lambs to the slaughter, crooked solictor bought for ya, staring at the pit..

 
Broken ‘pon the Duluth wheel I was, just a couple of years ago.
The grinning snitch with the sadist’s itch destroyed me don’t ya know.
A state paid feminist, duplicitity’s hedonist, my legacy in her sights.
With remorseless cruelty, and viscious surety gunned it down with great delight.

 
Citizen Caine, backbone strained, from shouldering his manly burden.
Three young horrors, mortgage honoured, no complaints noted or murmured.
Looking forward to, the idyllic view, where nappies and wails no longer bother.
Where I could teach my kin, the simple things my family name always honour.

 

Lesbian couple annoyed, politically tannoyed, barren science no justification!
That wicked crew, pencil pushers few, smirk their indignation.
A lifestyle choice, politically correct voice, reproductive rights should accrue.
And what of Caine’s worthy name? Flush it down the toilet is what we’ll do!

 

Split him up, from love’s true cusp, with allegations of infidelity.
Ascertain, in referendum frame, that he has campaigned for brexit posterity.
How court this, bar a fascist’s twist, have any bearing on parental ability?
You are in a game, oh Citizen Caine, where truth an irrelevance and liability.

 
Broken ‘pon the Duluth wheel I was, just a couple of years ago
The slothlike bitch with the childsnatcher’s itch she raped me don’t ya know
A state paid feminist, duplicitity’s hedonist, wife’s sanity in her sights
Ethnic cleansing efficiently, with viscious surety, gunned it down with great delight.

 

Frasier Caine, yes he was a pain, held to ideas of truth and right.
The judge will hear, don’t worry my dear, for this is an easy fight.
He did not bear, state silenced fear, others knew of family courts.
Friendly name, assumed fair game, ignorant to the blackout like a dork.

 

His cries of perjury, produced nil empathy, bored twisted comprador souls.
Who’ve heard it all, and seen it all, casual to the pantomime like ghouls.
Intellectualised, the evil that lies, is impossible to behold.
For one impressed, even to duress, that British justice to be bold.

 

And what of you, humble correspondent’s view, should make this sad old news?                No smoke without fire, secret defamation is higher, would likely be your view.             First they came for me, and my family to be, no concern of yours.                                    Until that shrew, with doom scripted anew, knocks upon your door.

 

Broken ‘pon the Duluth wheel she was, too many years ago.
A foster child’s plight, dealer and parlour’s delight, they don’t do well ya know.
A state made feminist, fatherless predicates, future prospects not so bright.
With remorseless cruelty, and viscious surety was gunned down to Blair’s delight.

 

I’d rather be Abel, Cain’s hand is unstable, no dreams live in the land of Nod.                        Countenance thee, child of me, only maybe by the side of God.                                                No redress for me, the PTSD, keeps me from the fight.                                                           And the smug bitch free, more evil destiny, no law she has not trod.

 

Cheerfully, and casually, the cunt called me up one night.                                                   Son’s doing great, oh except three days late, when happened he almost died.                       My angry tone, she put down the phone, it never bothered to view him safe.                         Police report, she who fear no tort, as abuse from an ingrate.

 

We must break the Duluth wheel you know, ere child’s lives be slaved.          Sanctimonious power, Rotherham’s deflower’d, also caught the bitches’ racist gaze.            Kill the feminists, don’t negotiate with terrorists, too far but can you blame?                   For you and thee, a mere poem will see, and gun me down unfazed.

 

The Epitaph of Combat

In the epitaph of combat,
Only Terry’s names abound.
In the bittersweet hereafter
The very finest sound.
I counted them out and I counted them in
Their faces were profound
I waited on them like Gunga Din
An honourable task I found

In the pitch black Afghan nightime
The stories flew around
Of weight and kneehigh quagmires
A battle with the very ground
Of airbursts and Dushkas
Bombs and small arms rounds
No ten dollar Taliban these
Tenacious as starving hounds.

In the hindsight of safety
The boys knew they’d won a round
The bout continues, the fight goes on
Could be for the very same mound
No regrets said the young Private
No action of mine was unsound
In the epitaph of combat
No sweeter is the sound.

The poor poorer and the rich richer

People are bright!

 

They intuit that which they cannot fathom. They might not be able to do a multi variant analyses of the underlying causes, and therefore often blame the wrong things, though their intuition expressed as feeling is rarely wrong.

So what do we make of the constant refrain that seems to echo through time?

 

For whosoever has, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance: but whosoever has not, from him shall be taken away even what he has. 

Matthew 13:12

 

The scapegoats

 

And there are many.

You will find blue haired mastodons screaming abuse at everything from bankers to politicians. Multi national corporations to agri-tech.

And chinless public school cucks blaming the feckless lower, than them, classes to immigrants. Schools to the overly generous, shallow laughs permitted, social security.

An oversimplification of a massive topic might be that the left blames a rigged system, and the right the inherent inability of those they distain from being able to steal as much money as themselves.

 

Define Poor

 

Well let me first state that I don’t see this being entirely about money. Intuition does not follow the same spreadsheet formulas in use by those distanced from it.

So let’s define poorer more broadly, as fewer opportunities for personal advancement or choice; a greater struggle for meaning or fulfillment; a state of desperation.

Clearly this definition spreads the net far wider than mere economics.

 

Define Rich

 

“Money may not make you happy, but at least you can choose the colour of your misery.” Quipped some millionaire or other. Money is an enabler, it allows good men to do good things and bad men to do bad things. It is entirely neutral spiritually.

Indeed I suspect we all consider some people to have rich lives irrespective of their socioeconomic status. Similarly some extremely wealthy people appear to wallow in misery despite their resources.

If we take a leaf from those dissafected English terrorists who the Gumps wrongly think of as Americans ( they only became American several years after the Declaration of Independence, after the treaty of Paris specifically) then their constitution gives a decent precis for richness.

We hold these truths to be sacred & undeniable; that all men are created equal & independent, that from that equal creation they derive rights inherent & inalienable, among which are the preservation of life, & liberty, & the pursuit of happiness; …

 

What does the persuit of happiness look like?

 

Well we could tax our grey matter in general terms on this, but it is an individualistic thing. Or we could tax our purple matter and ask our knobs.. Which is both more amusing and more revealing.

Granted the answer may come back as two Swedish bisexual supermodels on a weekend in Las Vegas. Which only begs the question of what would the persuit of happiness would look like from penis height after a few gullible individuals have believed your lies about such.

And I think the answer is rather old fashioned in many ways. Once said Swedish supermodels have been ticked off the universal bucket list the ambition for most remains a family and monogamous lifelong relationship; the resources to raise your children and eventually retire in reasonable comfort to reminisce about Swedish supermodels.

 

So why do we all think the rich are getting richer, and the poor poorer?

 

Hypergamy basically.

Defined as:

the action of marrying a person of a superior caste or class.

Women are hypergamous. Always have been.

An interesting exercise is to have a look through women’s dating profiles for those childless somewhat long in the tooth and short of body clock. No matter how hideous, poorly educated or fat they all appear to think they deserve a prince!

Men rate women’s attractiveness on such as a perfect bell curve, the average being a 5/10. Women on the other hand rate men such that they consider 93% to be below averagely attractive. With no 10/10s at all.

It was once said that Tory MPs had sex scandals and Labour MPs had financial scandals.. As they were hoping to steal enough cash to have a sex scandal. So this isn’t restricted to social spheres.

Nor the physicality of location, due to internet dating mostly.

 

Hypergamy

 

Affects every aspect of a chap’s persuit of happiness.

Whether your knob, your wallet or the wider macro economics the strange and malign confluence of fascistic feminism with the pre existing hypergamic culture has reduced many chap’s pussy persuits to practically zero.

As feminist teachers undermark boy’s coursework at school we see fewer boys growing up to be graduate men. Which has already resulted in almost 2/3rds of recent graduates being female. Putting half those females out of hypergamic reach.

As feminists lobby for higher paid and easier jobs for women it leaves men with the lower paid 3D ( Difficult, Dangerous or Dirty) jobs, and puts those better paid women out of hypergamic reach of them.

As feminists lobby for ever more ridiculous prosecutions against men, and longer sentences too, it leaves more men with criminal records to be scorned by hypergamic women. The prison gender gap is already 20.6 men to every woman and growing.

Meanwhile those tall, educated and rich enough to pick and choose gain a second high earner so the disposable income generated is considerable. At least until she files for no fault divorce, steals his house, assets and children and ruins his life for no good reason.

But even here hypergamy works overtime. The now poor bloke has to wine dine and chase, which as George Harrison put it, “Take’s a whole lot of spending money”, where the divorced woman is wined, dined and chased.

Course it also results in the mad old cat ladies who now seem to be giving up any idea of procreating, despite being in their early 40s.

 

The ratio

 

In wiser days women were paid less than men for the same work. Hence allowing even their mere peers to have a sniff.

With women’s net hourly wages increasingly overtaking men’s (certainly true for the under 30s) let’s have a look at the ratio of women available to three hypothetical blokes.

Bloke A is a tall grad with his own house. He basically has the pick of the field, though may well simply pick the best set of tits unintentionally leaving another cat lady in his wake. And depriving the other tiers of a potential mate in the process.

Ratio 1:1. Combined disposable income ~£30,000 p/a

Bloke B dropped out of Uni and works in a call centre. The 50% of women who graduated are beyond him, as are the feckless feminists promoted ahead of him for their ‘superior communication skills’ – otherwise known as nagging and getting someone else to do their work for them.

So he might be reasonable in thinking that 1/3 of the availble pussy is possible. But he competes with the myriad other blokes in a similar position, and those from the A tier. This third of women probably has to choose between realistically 2/3s of them men. Let’s be generous here…

Ratio 6:1 Combined disposable income ~£5,000 p/a

Bloke C is short, ginger and works in a 3D job at not much above minimum wage. All of the University grads, all of the better paid safe and comfy job females are out of sight. He’s left with the thick, lazy or unsuccessful. And competes with the tiers above him for even their affections.

Ratio: 20:1. Combined disposable income ~ £bugger all.

 

The Punchline

 

Sadly this isn’t comedy.. Standing in line to be punched in the dick is probably a good analogy for our young dudes on their way to finding out that the poor do indeed get poorer. And I cite this objectively for the underclass. The extreme end is called the Incel movement… Involunarily celibates. They deserve our compassion and action, but receive nothing but mockery.

Take the sad wretches described in Orwell’s Road to Wigan Pier (1937). Their economic prospects were undeniably poor, their lives tough and their plight only covered by a chinless socialist snob on a jolly. Who incidentally only studied them, like ants, to determine why they were too stupid to revolt.

The nation they built though was capable of great things, as we discovered against an Austrian dude of historical significance just a few years after the tome hit the posh bookstores. Their labour and the coal they dug powered the nation during the war and they reaped the benefits of the technology developed during it to lead happy retirements, surrounded by their grand children.

Whilst routinely displaying feats of strength and endurance probably beyond our athletes these days their pussy prospects were no worse than any other generation before.

These same, usually socially conservative, voices were the ones betrayed by no fault divorce and other feminist nonsense.. Robbing future generations of the only thing that adequately aleviates a life of poverty.

Consider too the poor drudges who emigrated here, or their grown up children. Have a look at the wallflowers next time you are out in a nightclub and you’ll notice a clear trend. Whilst Londoners salivate over the notion of signalling their virtue by dint of having a black lass clean their bog they don’t marry them…

In group preference in sexual partner is neither controversial nor arguable, the statistics are stark.

So next time you hear of a Muslim terrorist attrocity consider why a young dude with few prospects other than his cousin might blow up a concert for young girls, or indeed why so many school shootings in the USA are attributed to Incels.

Maybe the two are more… intimately.. linked than you realise?

Rhiannedd

Joined at the wound, our mother’s inflicted
Joined at the hip, or you preferably fisted
We are peas in a pod, a copy and paste
Though you did the copy, and me the replace

That controlling V, a once powerful tool
Which you wield as a weapon, the only true you
The rest is a sham, the past is all lies
Concocted on the fly to patch remorseless byes

We orbit and argue, you ran away, that grates
Magnetically attracted till narcissistic fates
I give you supply, returned with false hope
That sex is a cure for this malicious trope

But there’s always another, a backup man
One with money, or status even if trans!?!
Emotional flashbacks haunt my waking life
If only I could understand all of your strife

I thought it was me, my Afghanistan tour
That turned you into a Zombie, ghosts and more
I figured it out though, not me or mine
Was your sons’ refusal to follow your decline

Poor Alex abandoned, ignored or ignoring?
And Henry simply refused to be boring
Slung you out, your own home on a whim
Starved the attention your inheritance bereft him

And what of me, this experienced narc victim
Blamed himself like a clueless naive bumpkin
I propped you up at that time in your life
When you should have crashed, true self reflection in sight

Now you are better, a choice use of words
Self preservation won, others treated as turds
Those children that haunt you, you think they are ghosts
They craved your attention, you your own reflection most.

Incapable of remorse, your life swinging and coke
your fanny a bucket an elephant once smote
Parlour games are meant played my dear, not paid
Though I think you found your niche, getting laid.

Four narcs in a courtroom, Lustitia cried
Who could untangle these perjurous lies?
The ghosts that haunt you, your children’s ignored cries
Frequencies which on reflection, whips and toys cauterise.

A generational curse, handed down from Tredegar
Our children in care, lied to and eager
To see their Daddy, though you aren’t so keen
The narcissist’s gene self replicates it seems.

And they do not know he is frustrated and barred
So think themselves unloved, alienated and tarred
With the same disease which made you who you are
A narc for a mother and an absent father.

Red Pill becoming mainstream?

A few months ago myself and chaffers kicked off our online campaign to raise awareness of the feminist ideology behind our institutions and everything that we all intuit as wrong.

At first, it felt as if getting through to people was tough, but the moanstream media was even harder. Yet, now I have noticed a subtle change in the reporting, where are few slightly anti-feminist and anti-identity politics opinion pieces are making it to the centre-right press.

It would seem, that two years after Trump’s election that columnists have finally cottoned on to Trump’s agenda and don’t know how to respond…

The tide has turned…

Ministerial Incompetence – Connect the Dots.

 

A brief wibble by government department from a Red Pill perspective.

Once Bray coughs up the pints he owes me for grievous defeats on Cricket Championship we’ll be covering this via youtube on Chaffers and Bray

Can you spot the connections?

 

The most incompetent of them all? ( Ministry of Demoralisation)

 

Should be the blokiest but their ability to cock any and all projects up is legendary. You might be tempted to think that having 57,000 cucks ‘taking care of’ about 140,000 service personnel should be a jolly good ratio to ensure their needs are met.

Well if launching endless war crimes witchunts to prosecute serving soldiers who have been cleared by the previous half dozen witchunts is ‘taking care of’ then I think we may be talking more of a mafia definition of the term.

On accommodation and basic rights they fail utterly. Demoralisation seems to be the aim. I recall joining a regular unit for the first time and being shown to my single room accomodation ( I know it was such as I was charged board for it) which comprised of a 4 man room with curtains separating each bed.

One bloke was AWOL, the second about to be chucked out for a drugs offence and the third ginger and terrified of everything.

Whilst our forces were desperately short of helicopters in Afghanistan 8 brand new Chinooks were rotting away in a shed somewhere. Examples are legion.

This blog is an excellent example of a cuck book for instance. Mangina positively glistening at the recent documentary featuring four women and barely any blokes on the new aircraft carriers. The Red Arrows are red, and pretty! Far better than nasty weapons and stuff – for which this ex senior cuck has some wonderfully self contradictory excuses..

 

Educashun

 

“It isn’t a game, it’s just a rout” sang a fat bloke with much better tits than most feminists, and he might have been talking about the gender gap in education.

Women massively outnumber men at university in almost every field, the only exceptions being maths, physics and IT. Which is clearly a problem.

The solution is STEMM and hiding the preponderance of women on medicinal science courses ( men in psychology are a very rare breed for instance) to make it appear that women are disadvantaged in the tiny number of courses they do not already dominate.

Course feminists believe in equality of outcome, which makes the gender gap in teaching rather hard to square. Finding a primary school with a single male teacher might be problematic, finding female teachers who don’t mark the same work with a boy’s name on it significantly lower a less well known one.

 

 Department for Foreign Fanny Scratching (International Development)

 

Think of Foreign Aid and you’ll probably have an image in your head of a military transport aircraft doling out bundles of food in some drought stricken place. Under foreign fanny scratching rules however this wouldn’t even come from their budget, though technically it all comes under defence… Which is a right laugh.

The reality is quite different as most of the entire huge budget is devoted to feminist causes around the world. Interfering in foreign cultures takes the form of funding Eritrean versions of the spice girls and sub Saharan lesbians knitting yellow fin, nomadic condoms out of free range yoghurt raised on the shores of Mt. Fuji.

No stone is left unturned in the hunt for throwing our cash at feminist causes. India may have a space programme but they need feminist funding too!

And the scale is huuuuuuge. For every £9 we spend on the NHS ( more later) we spend £1 on allowing some dizzy tart ( it’s always a dizzy tart) defending our foreign aid budget with some graceless virtue signalling.

 

Department of Fun ( Media, Culture and Sport)

 

I really could not be more sick of seeing BBC bias threads on forums where lefties and righties argue endlessly on which way the BBC leans. It does so towards feminism, and horizontally so at that.

Political correctness, pro-immigration, pro-fetus murdering, rabid radical feminist bollocks. They don’t even try to hide it anymore.

The cringeing, but huge budget, Olympics opening ceremony was their work. As it trying to make out that a few dykes who would be thrashed by Accrington Stanley are equal professionals to whichever men’s game.

Women’s cricket is pretty good though, very spinny.

 

Department for Looking after Foreigners ( Foreign and Commonwealth Office)

 

“The ministry of Agriculture looks after cows and the Foreign Office looks after foreigners.” said Margaret Thatcher. Which is nice.

It is remarkably difficult to discern what else they do as that would mean looking for Foreign policy successes. Which over the last 100 years have been rather thin on the ground. If not altogether absent.

A bit like looking for French military victories.

Despite palaces and oodles of cash, not to mention inumerable honours doled out, can anyone actually convey what the FO’s foreign policy actually is? I’ll give you a clue, preventing sexual violence in conflict is a key concern of theirs…. Though as Boko Haram was roundly ignored whilst they burned thousands young blokes alive the moment they kidnapped some girls….. The world took notice.

Kidnapped that is, not….dead.

Until just before the referendum our brave and oh so superior Knights were confidently telling every foreign diplomat that we would vote to remain in the EU by a large margin. Hence the department entrusted to predict and analyse trends in foreign fields displayed quite conclusively that they didn’t have a clue about their own country. 🙂

Don’t be confused by the Commonwealth in the title of this ministry.. They couldne give a shite about anything outside the EU.

 

 Ministry of (partial) Justice

 

To be fair to them they did notice that three out of four men in prison wouldn’t be there had they opted for a swift sex change. And that those men in prison spent on average 6.5 times longer in the clink than females who had committed the same crimes.

Equality under the law my arse.

They published it in a report and everything.. Though no-one in the media covered it.

Meanwhile the fuckwit radical feminists in the Crown Prosecution Service prosecute blokes merely accused of sexual crimes with a disregard for exculpatory evidence that would shame a kangaroo court. Evidence of almost equal victimhood for blokes in domestic violence is folded in with that against women to make the numbers appear more shocking.

Also the secret family courts have been turned into shooting galleries where social workers have great fun perjuring themselves to rape blokes of their families and reputations.

Possibly the sickest of the sadistic in the list.

And about to get even sicker! David Gauk has announced to much fanfare that women will be spared prison sentences unless absolutely necessary… As though they aren’t already…

In the name of equality?

 

Ministry of housing and.. stuff.

 

We need more houses right? For social justice say the left, to house immigrants say the right.

Well in fact the housing stock has gone up by several million in a relatively short period of time. The biggest single pressure?

That would be no fault divorce and the breakdown of marriage. With canny blokes selecting the MGTOW gear and women taking their natural right to nick half of a married bloke’s stuff whilst destroying his life it means you need more houses to accommodate singles and separated rather than familes.

On social housing though, where do you think a single bloke in dire need would find himself on the housing ladder? On the streets is the answer, hence why 93% of the homeless are men.

So if you’re a young dude reading this and wondering whether you’ll ever own your own house the answer is probably only if you don’t marry. If you do you’ll lose it more than 50% of the time.

Feminism has consequences huh? Whooda thunked it.

 

 The Treasonr.. Erm I mean Treasury

 

Fewer than 2000 cucks need £3Bn per annum to come up with economic justifications for mass immigration and manpower in the middle of the second industrial revolution where robotics is the way forward!

There must be gold in them thar paper clip stacks!

Course giving women indirect tax breaks and producing reports so hilariously wrong on future economic trends that they make North Korea’s propaganda look professional takes… creative talent.

So too does trying to block brexit by every means possible.

We should pity them as being an anachronism. The City of London trader chappies pay top dollar for real time economists, the treasonry works on data months old and still can’t get a shot within the corner flags, never mind the goal.

 

Department for work and pensions

 

So women live for longer… and get their pensions sooner. Currently 5 years sooner. Hence the blokes who pay 75% of the tax burden, often whilst working in jobs which are physically demanding, are likely to receive a state pension worth about half as much overall. Equality huh?

Feminists of course campaign endlessly to get more women into top positions such as MPs or on the board of directors of companies. Which by the way tends to reduce their profits and effectiveness.

Would more women in Parliament be a good thing? Well it depends upon the women as Parliament is massively overstocked with feminists of both sexes, but with very few normal healthy females.

All feminist shortlists, as practised by both parties have seen to this. Which raises the question as to whether normal healthy women are represented by feminists. I doubt it.

 

 The Department for Transport

 

Included for completeness. Though… sorry dudes. I got nothing.

 

The Cabinet Office

 

A bit like Top Gun for cucks. If you’ve abandoned all hope of ever finding anything lumpy in your trousers and are truly committed to a Marxist way of life you might have the opportunity to pit your witless self against the Ministry supposedly responsible under our constitution. As in one headed by an elected representative. Someone who is responsible to us.

Rules of engagement be damned, or the civil service code for that matter… Evry fule kno that elected people can’t be trusted to compile policy. Only our deep state, who actually seem to work for the EU commission, should be trusted with such things.

Whether you be a National Security Advisor ( an economist) bravely and rightly avoiding any awkward questions from MPs or in charge of presenting a Brexit plan that the minister for Exiting the EU hasn’t seen once in 2 years your job is to be the best at subverting parliamentary accountability and standards in the land…

 

 Department against fishermen, farmers or anything else male and 3D job sounding.

 

Used to be called Maff, which was a bit too close to Muff, and almost gave the game away. Farmers being ruined and committing suicide? Fishermen with no quota to fish because no-one gives a shit about male 3D jobs? Don’t expect any help. Quite the opposite.

According to their figures I ate half of my yearly quota of fish at Wetherspoons last week, seeing as they think the entire industry is worth £1 billion a year, or about £15 quid per person.

And our farmers couldn’t survive without EU handouts… Nor did they in the thousand years before we joined the EU. All those green fields and well kept countryside are their work, not those of the farmers over countless generations. And those bird chomping windmills are not crucifixes to stupidity, they are modernity and progress.

Course if you need half a county to be flooded or draconian dystopian bastardry to be implemented which hobbles dairy farmers, beef farmers or any other male profession they they is good.

Hell we used to have fresh local milk delivered in recycled glass bottles by electric vehicles.. But they saw to that. Milk men you see. All that getting up early in the cold wasn’t attractive to our precious darling feminists who want comfortable warm jobs. Like in supermarkets.

 

 The Home Orifice

 

The daddy department of them all. Or rather sisterhood department.

Must always be a feminist in charge as they have jurisdiction over mass immigration. And a feminist’s favourite policy must not be questioned.

And we wouldn’t want trifles such as the mass pedophilic rape of 4500 schoolgirls in Rotherham, Telford etc getting out would we? And to be fair they were largely successful in this, kept it quiet for at least a decade or more.

A report recently showed that every Home Secretary since the intrinsically feminist Blair Government was well aware of the ‘Asian Grooming Gangs’ though no Japanese people were involved. They certainly kept a lid on it.

 

 Department of Health and Social Care

 

A stand up once quipped that men die 10 years earlier because they are married, and therefore want to. Though this bunch have a finger in the pie.

51% of the population are born male, though only 48% make it. And as 14 of the top 15 preventable diseases disproportionately affect males in the UK you might be surprised to hear that Breast Cancer is the exception, the 15th.

Answers on a postcard for which receives the most funding, research and media attention!

Please also mention on said postcard when you last heard male suicide mentioned, the single biggest killer of people under 40.

But these people care… socially. Which basically means training and equipping an army of social workers. And then lobbying for ever increasing funding for them so they can child snatch, break up families and alienate fathers such that the epidemic of fatherless children is running at close to 40%. Ably abetted by social work degrees which encompass a wide range of influences.. feminism, radical feminism and… A bit more feminism.

If that is they were their children to begin with. DNA tests are cheap and easy but that more than 10% of children are actually raised under false paternity is a closely guarded secret.

You read that right. the last study by the CSA ( a bit like Jeremy Kyle only with threats of financial extortion) found about 25% of false paternity. As in a quarter of blokes who thought they were Dads… weren’t.

But surely it’s your right to know whether the children you raise are genetically yours?!

How naive, DNA actually means Do Not Ask what your missus was up to whilst getting pregnant. If you are on the birth certificate then you are the father, not that having an accurate family genetic history of health problems isn’t crucially important in modern diagnoses. It is.

But you have no reproductive rights in the first place.. Zero. Hence at least they are consistent.

I would like to see how much of the NHS’s budget is spent on males versus females… Though suspect the answer is pretty obvious.

If estrogen levels had dropped 30% since the late 80s in women in the West across the board, and 65% in some major cities, do you think it would be an issue? A medical issue and public health concern? Well testosterone levels in Western males decrease by an extra 1% per year and nobody even  seems to have noticed.

 

So…. Can you connect the dots?

 

Can you see a pattern in the incompetence?  The direction of travel, the division of resources? The muppetry and the blindness?

It’s worth remembering that those two eminent muppets, Statler and Waldorf, whilst endless critics were actually part of the show.

And what, Champ, is your part in the show?

It might be worth considering where the incompetence and blindness manifested itself from in the first place….

Could it be that clapping and cheering like a trained seal whilst deciding where to put your X in a box whilst someone virtue signalled about caring for women was actually dehumanising?

See it’s inbuilt. Part of our makeup and you don’t get extra brownie points for it. Though accepting someone as virtuous because they claimed to care about women more than you do diminishes your own moral authority.

Maybe time to take stock and consider where the gender gaps actually lie, rather than where they tell you they do?