Let us, who walk on two legs and not four, salute those unsung legions who fell to make this knock-off Caesar appear to be great.
Although MI5’s BBC outlet recently gave us a full roadmap to King Charles 111’s Coronation, this article aims to add further to the festivities by discussing its religious hypocrisy, the charlatans who will be in attendance and its wider strategic significance as midwife to Europe’s Fourth Reich.
First off, former banker and Banderite apologist Justin Welby, who styles himself as the Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury, will decree that Charles is the boss of bosses, the Don Corleone of their Anglican Cult, and as such, is the Defender of Their Protestant Faith, a title first bestowed on the philandering King Henry V111 by Pope Leo X in 1527, which the Anglican cultists quickly hijacked for their own mercenary reasons. Although that is bad enough, it is their attempt to co-opt other, more genuine and established faiths into their Coronation pantomime that riles me, as it riled Stephen Karganovic.
First off, the BBC tells us that the circus will include “Greek Orthodox music in memory of the King’s father, Prince Philip”, whom the late Princess Diana, Queen of Hearts, dubbed as Phil the Greek. But Phil the Greek abandoned the Faith of his Fathers and, more importantly, of his sainted mother, Princess Alice to embrace, in name at least, the string of high-class Anglican mistresses marrying the late Queen Elizabeth brought him. Though it would be a stretch of the English language to call me a Royalist, I have the profoundest respect for Princess Alice, who can be seen here, dressed in the habit of a Greek Orthodox nun, at the wedding of Queen (then Princess) Elizabeth to her wayward, penniless and generally useless son.
Given Princess Alice’s resistance to Nazis in her native Greece and her support of the Greek Jews and Orthodox Christians during the Nazi Occupation, I have no doubt that she would stand foursquare with the Orthodox faithful of Syria, Ukraine and Jerusalem, where she is buried in its Russian Orthodox Cathedral alongside her aunt, Grand Duchess Elizabeth Feodorovna who is a saint in the (Russian) Orthodox Church.
If King Charles really wishes to honour the Orthodox faithful, then he could invite Patriarch Kirill to say a prayer for his granny or, if he was not suitable, my good friend Archbishop Theodosius Hanna, whom the Israelis regularly crucify, would make an excellent compromise.
But no. Shortly before I got Patriarch Aphrem of the Syriac Orthodox Church to address the Irish Parliament, this man of God, who had only recently survived an attempted assassination in his native Syria, opened the Cathedral of St Thomas in London which King Charles, to his credit, attended and to which the late Queen, to her credit, sent a telegram of congratulations. However, the CIA, not to be left out of festivities, got Umar al-Qadri, a semi-literate Irish-based Pakistani-Dutch imam, who spends an inordinate amount of time State-side with his Yankee pals, to do his song and dance routine on St Thomas’ High Altar. Not only did this usurper not belong there but, once Patriarch Aphrem and the rest of the Syrian delegation arrived in Ireland, the theologically illiterate Al-Qadri, on the word of his Yankee handlers, made all kinds of incendiary theological accusations against the Syrian delegation, which was headed by its then Grand Mufti, one of our era’s leading Quranic scholars.
Though ignoramuses like al-Qadri belong nowhere near King Charles’ Coronation, these are the types of ecumenical oafs MI5 recruit to give credence to this Coronation circus. Clowns like that utter imbecile Clown Prince Zelensky, whose thugs are terrorising the Orthodox Christians Princess Alice so faithfully and courageously served. King Charles, if he wants to be a King rather than just a play-acting Zelensky-style plastic King, should call out Ukraine, Israel and all others who mock the religion of Princess Alice, Archbishop Hanna, Grand Duchess Elizabeth Feodorovna, and St Philoumenous and who persecute its faithful in ways the gone-to-seed Westerners, who will pack the pews of Westminster, can never even begin to appreciate, just as they cannot and will not even bring themselves to utter a prayer, let alone a pardon, for Catholic pacifist Julian Assange who, less than a mile away from their Coronation jamboree, lies chained in prisons dark but still in heart and conscience free just as other faith-driven English Catholics did in times gone by.
Given that Ursula von der Leyen would sell whatever remains of her soul for a chance to be in the spotlight, religious clowns will not be the only jokers in attendance. Seated like house-trained puppies on their pews will be the gangster separatists of Scotland and Ireland, Ireland’s and Scotland’s Sopranos, compared to whom even Hunter Biden and his Nazi bio labs look law-abiding. Though these Celtic Sopranos should, like the red and black bearskin soldiers who will pepper the proceedings, be aptly described as Soldiers of the King, they lack the courage, honesty and integrity of those countless Tommies who fell for King and Country in some corner of a foreign field that is forever England.
Those thieving, self-serving, child-raping curs don’t even deserve that patch. They are there to network, to climb MI5’s greasy pole, to skim and to keep the whole corrupt system the trappings of Royalty personify ticking over.
Co-opted as they are, these Scottish and Irish gangsters are way out of their depth. MI5 know that the jig is up for their Royalty, at least in the form the late Queen Elizabeth knew it. And so they are re-inventing the Royal circus show to make it more relevant, not only to the English and Australian blue rinses who lap all this vomit up but also to the World Economic Forum, the CIA and the EU prison yard’s other shot callers, who care no more about King Jug Ears than do most of his subjects. Their objective is, as it has always been, to opiate us all into their cages, to herd and blinker us, so as we are sheep to this, their Judas goat.
Let’s hope that the rain keeps off and King Charles and his Loyal Scottish and Irish skivvies have a good day of it, and that Ursula von der Leyen gets plenty of selfies to justify our American friends keeping that old mare in clover and, if God wills it, that Clown Prince Zelensky and al-Qadri manage to gatecrash the proceedings and bore all and sundry to death with their flat earth dirges.
But, in all this, let’s recall that marvellous hymn of those English Catholics who kept true to the Faith of Our Fathers’ Holy Faith and who, though “chained in prisons dark, were still in heart and conscience free.” Let’s recall the Irish Fenians, who put the fear of God and more into Queen Victoria, Joyce’s “flatulent old bitch”. Let’s remember how James Connolly, who fought alongside Fenian fanatic Tom Clarke against the Soldiers of the King in 1916, not only castigated the flunkeys of Royalism in this fabulous essay but quite accurately positioned the role of monarchy in our society.
Speaking of which, Friday May 5th is the 42nd anniversary of the death by hunger strike of Bobby Sands, for whom I voted early and often, and for whom I led a series of high-profile protests, all in the face of systematic Sinn Féin sabotage. No doubt, those Sinn Féin leaders assigned to Licking the Royal Bum in London will throw Sands and his brave comrades a few shibboleths, empty words from empty people who serve Empire, the same Empire Connolly castigated when, from the steps of Liberty Hall he, and his fellow heroes of the Irish Citizen Army declared: We serve neither King nor Kaiser but Ireland.
And so it is today in the words of Shakespeare’s King Henry V with “we few, we happy few, we band of brothers”. There are, as the late Queen Elizabeth proclaimed, dark and sinister forces afoot in England’s green and pleasant land which is now a part of Europe’s evolving Fourth Reich consumed, as its Third Reich predecessor was, with slaughtering Slavs, opiating the Chinese and making its own children be the modern-day equivalent of the Famine Queen’s chimney sweeps. No more than the Famine Queen’s own sullen subjects should we be beguiled by the Coronation’s pomp and circumstance that sugar-coat the Fourth Reich’s war crimes in Ukraine, Sudan, Syria and even England’s own green and pleasant land of corrupt politicians, fake clerics and this empty Royalist pomp and circumstance.
Like Queen Victoria’s chimney sweeps, Britain’s coal miners and England’s Tolpuddle and Tyburn martyrs, we have a choice in this. Sure, those of us who like a bit of pomp and circumstance can marvel at the marching bands and the broad posteriors and bursting seams of the multi-chinned pot bellies packing the pews of Westminster. We can watch Welby anoint Charles in this oh so English version of Hollywood’s The Godfather before getting on with our day and settling in for the English Premier League’s 3pm kick-offs.
Though we can marvel at these circuses, we should be in no doubt about their function or the role Ursula von der Leyen and a thousand other flunkeys play in them, as they Judas Goat us along into their Fourth Reich, which already has a strong Neanderthal axis in the CIA’s fascist spawning grounds of Ukraine, Poland and the Baltic pimple states.
This Fourth Reich, as seen from Kiev and Jerusalem, demands an absolute monopoly on power; out-of-court reprisals; blanket censorship; the liquidation of almost all independent media and the destruction of all political opposition; an all-encompassing total state propaganda; and an active search for traitors, Orthodox Christians and fictional Russian spies, saboteurs and sports people.
For all the bullshit that King Charles’ handlers get him to spin, here is the reality. The CIA’s Radio Free Europe (sic) boasts that Poland’s fascist regime refused to allow Vitalia Diatchenko fly to a tennis tournament because she is a Russian citizen. Twitter and the CIA’s other media outlets rigged it so that Creepy Joe Biden won the U.S. Presidential election, just as they are currently rigging the 2024 election to ensure Trump does not win and Robert Kennedy Junior goes the way of his assassinated uncle, Jack, and his assassinated father, Bobby.
Don’t be fooled or co-opted by King Jug Ears. He is but a mask, America’s Mickey Mouse even down to the ears. The reality this Royal swan song masks is being played out in Kiev’s Kristallnacht and in the killing fields of Eastern Ukraine, where Russian Orthodox soldiers are fighting the same Satanic forces their grandfathers faced 80 years ago,. It is being played out in the narrow back streets of Bethlehem, whose Orthodox Christians are mired under the Israeli yoke and in Gaza, whose Orthodox Christians suffer the same unspeakable privations as their Sunni friends, neighbours and relatives. In Sudan, where MI5’s intrigues continue the genocidal work of Gordon of Khartoum and in a thousand other places, whose tragedies are celebrated in the finery King Charles and his moll, Queen Consort Camilla, so ignorantly adorn themselves with.
Let King Jug Ears adorn himself with his Star of Africa, his Cullinan diamonds, his St Edward Diamond, his Black Prince ruby as well as his throne of plundered amethysts, sapphires, garnets, topazes and tourmaline gems and as he plonks his well-polished, Anglo-Saxon posterior down on Scotland’s Stone of Destiny, think of the fate of all of those who have suffered as this“rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born“, of Julian Assange who rots in King Charles’ dungeons for defending the Syriac Orthodox Christians of Iraq, of Alina Lipp, Germany’s own Bambi, of Darya Dugina, Vitalia Diatchenko and so many other Russian Orthodox Christians, of the French Catholics who will be battered off Parisian streets as King Jug Ears performs his sluggish pantomime, of the Congo’s legions of child slaves who mine cobalt for King Charles’ self-serving Green Energy initiatives, of all of those who stand with Clarke and Connolly, with the Tolpuddle and Tyburn martyrs, with the Orthodox Christians far away in dear old Cyprus or in Kenya’s dusty land and who tell King Charles, his moll Camilla and his whole entourage to stick their sham c
Let the blue rinses enjoy their day, the bands, the marching, the finery and the distended bellies of the great and mighty. But let us, who walk on two legs and not four, salute not this MI5 charlatan but those unsung legions who fell to make this knock-off Caesar appear to be great. That, at least, is what I will be doing on this Saint Jug Ears Day and every day “from this day to the ending of the world”.