The Ever Raging War Against The Toff Twats – A Response to Otis Ferry’s Interview in The Times
Merry Crimbo one and all, or ‘Wintermass’ to all those with poles up their bums. I have just had the good fortune to pick up The Times 27th December issue, and stumble upon an interview with Otis Ferry, taken by one Camilla Long. I have to say it was one of the most entertaining things i’ve read in a long time. I just had to blurt a response.
Otis isn’t happy you see. He is not happy that Simon Cowell and “some bitch from Islington” are on Newsnight, he is unhappy that John Craven has not yet replied to his email citing the dictionary definition of ‘perversion’, and he is not happy he can no longer legally enter his jodhpur and chase fluffy vermin across England’s green and pleasant lands without running into a black or an Asian or a Pole or an anti-hunt protestor. Or worse, a black Asian Polish anti-hunt protestor.
Otis and his father Bryan Ferry are big hunters you see. BIG hunters. You remember his father right? The guy who thought the Nazis’ style and their rallies were “just amazing. Really beautiful.”
Yeah, that guy.
Well his son is a chip off the old block let him tell you. It seems poor Otis is very worried about dear old England. What with Simon Cowell, and the fox hunting ban, and all the blacks and Asians. No sorry, ‘immigration’. Yes, it’s immigration he’s worried about, even though he admits he doesn’t “understand how it works”, and he hates “the thought of depriving poor Mrs Punjab of her ‘right to come here’ “. But he is convinced you see, convinced that we have simply run out of room for new people in this country.
Yeah you noticed that didn’t you; “poor Mrs Punjab”. I literally began rubbing my hands with glee at this point.
Anyway, as he “focuses his shrewishly handsome features” on Camilla Long, he postulates on the “sheer shitness of our country” and then recalls the “namby-pamby” nature of his prison stint in comparison to his boarding school days. Apparently private education not only provides a better quality of education, but also a better quality of sodomy and shanking as well. Readers take note.
And inmates too, in case he ever gets banged up again; “namby pamby” he called you.
Anyway where the hell was i? Oh yes, fox hunting. Camilla Long, taking a break from fellating Otis’s ego, deigns to broach the subject of the 75% opinion poll result against fox hunting, to which Otis replies “well, if you’ve got a lot of morons following Simon Cowell”. He also suggests the best remedy for the general population’s ignorance is to “round them all up” and go to work on them in a Clock Work Orange style torture cinema. Yes, and while he’s at it, perhaps he could round up the immigrants and turn Mrs Punjab into a lamp shade to add to his father’s Nazi paraphernalia collection.
The fact is Otis appears to be suffering from the congenital scourge of the upper classes (which he so desperately aspires to be part of but never truly can because his grandfather was a pit-pony keeper). Yes, the upper class scourge of being generally fucking insane. But his racism and his ignorance is actually not what repulses me about this odious little cretin. No. What really brings the bile up in my throat is the fact that this little twat, from a working class background, has styled himself into an ersatz toff.
And not just any old toff.
A toff twat.
Otis’s betrayal of his working class family heritage leads me specifically to the bigger picture behind the fox hunting ban which he is so publically apoplectic over.
If anyone ever tells you we banned fox hunting because of cruelty to animals they are either lying outright, or woefully misguided. We didn’t ban fox hunting because we’re worried a fox might get it’s throat ripped out by a dog every now and again. In fact we do care, but only from afar. As far as our sofas. As far as the digi-box and satellite dish signals can keep us.
The truth is we don’t give a shite about the piddling affairs of a few foxes in the shires. We have more pressing concerns. like money, and how the fuck we get it. It’s an age-old concern the majority of us share, as did our ancestors before us from time immemorial. But there are a few…a privileged few, who have no such concerns, and never have.
We do not give a shit about foxes.
What we do give a shit about, as our ancestors did before us, is the gradual destruction of the British upper class.
Fox hunters bemoan the loss of a tradition and a way of life known in this country for hundreds of years, even the odd thousand or whatever. What they don’t realise is that we are deliberately trying to destroy them. Since the end of WW1 we have been trying to destroy them. And we still haven’t succeeded, but damn it we are getting there.
If we maintain and increase and enshrine into constitutional law the socialist ideals we have come to take for granted in this century and the last, then we will eventually, via taxation, bankrupt these cretinous moneybags of their historical inheritances which were made from the blood of slaves and serfs and our ancestors actually. If we bother to remember them. No Englishman’s wealth just fell out of the sky, even the fucking Queen is aware of that.
And yet these parasites, and spawn of parasites, seem determined that they are entitled to retain their ill-gotten gains. that they have somehow earned their inheritances.
Their wealth was not won with the power of their minds, though. certainly not. No amount of education, no matter how expensive or selective or superb, can break through a thousand years of inbred spastication. You can be well-educated and still be a retarded fuckwit, just look at the house of Lords for proof. Those wobbling, dribbling titans of social standing are so genetically degenerated that, if put to it, no professional animal breeder worth his standing would allow them to ejaculate into a sock, let alone a woman.
If we don’t succeed in bankrupting them of their financial inheritances with socialist taxes, then their own inbred genetic mutations will eventually prevent them from breeding anyway.
The only thing that could throw the final solution to the upper class menace is if people – befuddled by Cameron’s very convincing human suit – vote in the Conservatives in the upcoming general election. That would be fucking bad in every kind of fucking way.
Alright New Labour are swine, but my god at least they’re OUR swine! The expenses scandal was telling in more ways than one. They all have their snouts in the trough, we know that. But New Labour expenses claims are so reassuringly working class it hurts. Basically New Labour MPs are like teenagers who suddenly realise they can steal out of mum’s purse. So what do they go and buy??
Porn. Bathroom installations. Toilet seats. Dry cleaning.
What did the Tories (ex or otherwise) claim for?
Moats. Duck Houses. Bell Towers.
Case and point, my fellow crusaders.
Case and fucking point.