MAD Politics

MAD politics is a concept not many of us are familiar with, nor comfortable being discussed in mainstream politics. Madness is deemed undesirable by society and anyone who is mad is usually locked up in a padded cell for their own safety.

This is alarming considering one in four of us are reported to suffer from a mental illness once in our life-time. From that statistic alone, you would think there would be an asylum on every street corner, but no. The mad are treated within the community more and more. So, following this, it is only right to presume the mad make up a big percentage of the voters today?

Then there are those who don’t have a mental illness, but instead a difference of opinion to the more established thinking of the day.

“All politicians should be rounded up and shot”, could be a common line, heard up and down the UK, in any pub, on any given day.

“You’re mad mate, that would never happen”, would most probably be the reply.

Immediately, such a crazy thought is dismissed out of hand. And of-course it should be. The cold bloodied murder of 646 individuals should never be condoned.

But the point I want to make is that on BBC Newsnight, politicians may well discuss an invasion of a country, resulting in whole armies being killed and collateral damage on a massive scale.

Cold bloodied murder of thousands of innocent people, but yet madness is never mentioned.

The question the British people have to confront is:
What is mad?


The Monster Raving Looney Party is what people would usually associate with mad politics. I personally see it as more silly politics than mad. 


Ironically one of their policies made it into law. Passports for animals are now a reality.

The 2010 General Election in the UK saw a 65% voter turnout. Leaving a respectable 35% who didn’t bother. 


In our present system we have the choice of left and right. This is how our political choices are divided up and sold to us. The Conservatives take the right and Labour the left, with a collection of smaller parties taking up the rest. 


You get far left and far right. The farthest right you go, you come to the neo-fascists and the religious fundamentalists who believe the ’Rapture’ is imminent.

At the other end, you could come across the hippies who believe in UFO’s, ghosts and fairies.


The point I want to make is that perhaps it is these far spectrums of voters, which should be brought into the fold and given the attention they so obviously deserve.


Millions of people across the globe believe in imminent ’Rapture’ and just as many believe in UFO’s. With these beliefs come different political views and expectations of what society should be doing and how it should be doing it.


This is what mad politics is all about. Giving the mad the microphone, so they can speak loud and proud. Then and only then might we get into the realm of 99% voter turnouts. 


All the time the left, right and centre get their voices heard. But never once have I heard a madman or woman on the panel giving their political point of view. 


The 35% of people who didn’t vote in 2010, must have something to say. And no doubt it’s at logger heads with what the rest are saying.


I myself have a simple rule that seems to sum up my approach to political debate. I’ve found that everything our politicians say ’yes’ to, I say ’no’ to.


Amazingly this approach bears wisdom whenever it's used. You can bet your last pound that if a politician is telling you something is good for you, it really isn’t. And if something is bad for you, it really is good. Deeper research in anything they say, proves this point, time and time again.


For example let’s take a closer look at the perceived sanity of our politicians to date.


The number one waste of money that springs to mind is the billions spent on the nuclear deterrent which no-one has used or wants to use. In fact, the madness of it is spelt out for us all to see.
Mutually Assured Destruction (Em A Dee) is the one thing keeping us alive.


(Bear in mind I’m just picking examples out of the air here). 


Number two, the reason we went to war with Iraqi over weapons of mass destruction, was based on a conspiracy theory that they had weapons of mass destruction. 


Isn’t it madness in itself that governments should send soldiers to their deaths on a theory rather than fact?


Three... Paying people not to work in the form of benefits, often called unemployment benefit. 


No wonder people don’t want to work if the government gives them a benefit not too. Madness, but a bloody good perk if you can get it.


Four, I have to think now... Oh yes. Allowing a private consortium of banks to print the nation’s money supply, and borrowing that money from the banks at interest. This means that the government needs to tax its people to pay back the interest the banks demand, on the money the governments allowed them to print.

According to the UK National Debt figures, £43 Billion was paid in interest to the banks in 2010. Is it not madness that the countries entire income tax is spent on paying back the interest on the money we borrow from the banks, for allowing them to print our money in the first place?

Number five, now let me think....Arhhhh, Easy.

Sending our fitness, brightest and best men and women to war, with the real and present danger of getting them killed. Isn’t it madness to spend billions on death and destruction, when we would get more for our money, if it was rather spent on life and reconstruction?

Isn’t it best to talk to your enemy and become friends, rather than kill your enemy and create more enemies for generations to come?

There you go, five examples plucked from the air, of the madness we presently have to endure under the guise of so called sanity.

Dig deeper and I bet you too can pluck five examples from the air, of the madness our politicians make us bare.

If we are going to call a spade a digging implement or a carrot an orange edible vegetable, then so be it. Our politicians have won the battle of our minds to dictate their will over ours. But if you want to call a spade a spade and a carrot a carrot, then perhaps, just perhaps, we all have to go be a bit more mad, to stand up to the so called sanity we are being force feed every day.

This world really is topsy-turvy and perhaps a dose of madness will turn it the right way round.

So, how about it everyone? Don’t you think it’s time madness gets its chance to voice its political point of view?

You may come to the conclusion that madness is the refreshing change our country needs, as we tackle the 21st century.

I’m MAD, are you?

www.sosparty.co.uk

It's War- Fact v's Fiction

It’s war.

You may have already have noticed it banging at your front-door.

It’s not a war of good verses evil. Of right against wrong. Of left against right.

It's a war of FACT against FICTION.

This is the war that’s being fought all around us and with the anniversary of the 9/11 looming, it's about to go into over-drive.

What are the FACTS? And what is the FICTION?

This is the question and the basis of the war, we find ourselves fighting.

A FACT is something you can experience with your five senses and FICTION is something from the imagination.

These are the sides each and every one of us must now join.

The problem being of-course, is that we don’t know one from the other. Each army believes they know the FACTS and that everyone else has been manipulated and brainwashed into believing the FICTION..

Which brings us to another question.

Where is the truth in all of this?

Perhaps there is no truth. After-all, truth is in the eye of the beholder.

As the old saying goes, “History is written by the victorious…regardless of the truth.”

Would it be fair to surmise, “there is no truth, only facts and lies.”

For this is the dividing line. The line between mind-sets and paradigms.

This war won’t involve guns and bombs. It’ll manifest itself with a knock at your door. With detention without cause and confiscation of what you hold most dear in the world, namely your children, car and home.

The government will feed us fiction packaged as fact, as they did with weapons of mass destruction, terrorism attacks and the absolute necessity to save the banks.

Was 9/11 really the work of Islamic fundamentalists. Was 7/7 really the work of four young men.

Was Osama Bin Laden really killed in Pakistan and dumped at sea. Who really killed JFK? Are really aliens real? And did men really land on the moon?

What are we being told? Is it Fact or Fiction?

That’s the greatest question. And this is the question we must answer to achieve salvation.

Decide now and choose your side. War is upon us today and we must fight now to secure our tomorrow.

Everyone must read between the lines, watch news from around the world and research other more obscure media outlets to see what is really going on.

You may have guessed what side I’m on.

I don’t believe a word the media and government’s say.

It’s a dangerous world out there and it’s getting more so with each passing day.

But don’t get too scared. FACT will win the day.

Just be prepared for a change. Be prepared for something totally new, but most importantly of all, be prepared to change your beliefs and everything you know to be true....

War is at our door. Time to decide. Is it FACT or is it FICTION. Is it time to Live or die?

www.sosparty.co.uk

Muad'Dib is Free

Have you heard, Muad’Dib is free.

You know Muad’Dib (pronounced Moor-Dib). A weird name I agree. He looks like Merlin with his long white beard. An unlikely hero who fights against the evil in our so--ci--e--ty.

Muad’Dib, boy, what a story. If you haven’t heard about Muad’Dib and 7/7 Ripple Effect, well I don’t want to be rude, but you’ve had your head in the sand for the last few years.

In a nut shell, Muad’Dib contends the 7/7 London bombings WEREN’T, I repeat WEREN’T, carried out by four home-grown Islamic fundamentalists as our government and state media has lead us to believe.

He is so sure of this and believes he has evidence to support this statement, he filmed a documentary called 7/7 Ripple Effect, bringing all this evidence onto one round disc.

If you haven’t watched it yet, you really should. I found it both professional and compelling. This is the work of a sound and intelligent mind bringing together a wealth of information, pointing to a set of facts which our government and state media are telling us are lies.

Watch it if you haven’t done so already.

Basically, do you remember the inquest into the 7/7 London bomb victims? Well, not quite into them, but rather the inquest into the secret services response to 7/7, and how if it happened again, what would be the lessons learnt so on and so on.

Well, at the start of the inquest the presiding judge and prosecuting barrister, told the twelve members of the jury that the four young men, Mohammed Sidique Khan, Shehzad Tanweer, Germaine Lindsay and Haib Hussain were guilty of the 7/7 London bombings.

Having seen 7/7 Ripple Effect you can see why this assertion in a court of law infuriated Muad’Dib to such a degree that he felt he had to send a copy of his documentary to the presiding judge.

After all, isn’t it a duty of every citizen to submit evidence to a court of law in the event of an impending injustice occurring?

Yes, of-course it is. And yes, even to the most layman of citizens, we all know that each and every one of us are innocent until proven guilty. It’s the back-bone of British justice after-all. And as none of the four alleged bombers have had their day in court, isn’t it right and proper not to label them guilty of a crime they have never been found guilty off.

Oh, but no, you wouldn’t believe what happened next......

You would not believe it, Adam and Eve it.

He only goes and get’s arrested for perverting the course of justice.

Arrested for sending a disc of his documentary to a court of law because he believed a grave injustice was being perpetrated.

He was living in Ireland at this time. So, low and behold he gets arrested and imprisoned while his extradition to England is finalised.

He spends a year fighting his extradition, while the clogs of in-justice turn and before he knows it he’s on the way across the Irish Channel.

Back in England, at Wandsworth Prison, it just gets worse.

For a start he’s deleted from the system. No-one knows where he is or whether he is or not.

When the cock-up is eventually rectified, the mistakes still came thick and fast, because on more than one occasion he was expected at court only for the prison to lose him in the system, unable to get him to his court hearings.

The consequence of-course meant he spent more time in prison than he had too.

So eventually in March 2011, he got his day in court and started off the proceedings by calling into doubt the legality of the authority of the Queen, as head of state and monarchy, due to fundamental mistakes made in her Coronation. Number one being that the Destiny Stone was a fake and two, that she has broken the oath to the British people by allowing sovereign duties, be passed to the European Parliament.

Brilliant in my opinion. I don’t think that had ever been brought up in a court of law before.

As you would expect these contentions were swiped aside with distain by the Judge. And the case went ahead.

Thankfully the 7/7 Ripple Effect documentary was shown to the jury. Praise be for some justice in our judicial system.

After a day of the mumbo-jumbo of legalise and the character slaughter of the prosecution, it was finally time for Muad’Dib to take the witness-stand.

He explained to the jury that he sent the DVDs to the courthouse because innocent men were being maliciously prosecuted, just like he was, and that he could not sit back and watch people go to prison for something they didn’t do.

Justice prevailed that day and after two and a half hours wait, the jury returned a 10-12, 'not guilty' verdict. Of-course the presiding judge wasn’t happy. He had done everything is his power to send Muad’Dib down, and as the public gallery erupted into spontaneous applause the judge made a hasty retreat.

Muad’Dib should never have stood trial for perverting the cause of justice. He should have been praised for up-holding it.

The whole stinking story illustrates a perversion at the very heart of the British Judicial System. That they can muck about with judicial procedures, depriving a man of his liberty, is criminal and sick.

This story proves there are dark forces (as Queen Elizabeth said herself), at work behind the scenes.

The same dark forces who will do everything in their power to cover the facts of the 7/7 London terrorist attacks, which is so obviously a false flag terror attack.

Muad’Dib is a modern day hero. If you don’t know that, well, I’m afraid you don’t know twat and you’d better catch up with the real world around you.

www.sosparty.co.uk

SOS Message DO NOT VOTE

You are my last best hope for victory...

Hi there, My name is Matthew Taylor and I'm writing to you about my SOS (Save Our Society) Party. Like many, I look upon the leaders of Western Democracy as criminals and evil doers and dream of reinventing the political industry by spreading an alternative political message, that our Western Leaders are telling us lies and feeding us propaganda to promote their own selfish and misguided agendas. Since 1997 I have been promoting the SOS Party (see www.sosparty.co.uk) and humbly appeal to you for financial contributions so I can register the SOS (Save Our Society) Party as a legitimate political party and run in forth-coming general and local elections. With your financial support I will be able to take the SOS Party to a new level, and awake the British people to the fact that Western Democracy is nothing more than a lie that keeps corrupt men in power. Please check over my website at www.sosparty.co.uk and see for yourselves my vision and what I stand for. No doubt there may be certain views in which we differ, but be rest assured, there are more views in which we share. With your support we can make our world a better place. All and any financial support is welcome. Donate Here May God be with you and the Light of Life shine on you forever. Matthew Taylor www.sosparty.co.uk

FAMILY IN TROUBLE

My family is in trouble again…

Anyone living in Brighton may know that last week there was a fire at 3 Widdicoombe Way in Moulsecoomb.

http://www.theargus.co.uk/news/8857738.Arrest_after_two_women_rescued_from__severe__Brighton_house_fire/

That’s my sister and nieces house.

I’ve changed names to hide their true identities because they’ve got enough on their plates at the moment and I doubt they would want anymore unwanted attention dumped on their shoulders.

My sister will be called Katherine (37 years old) and my nieces will be called Gabby (21 years old) and Ruby (17 years old).

Katherine has been arrested on suspicion of arson (and because of which can’t be re-housed by the council), but I know she didn’t do it. It was her girl friend who started the fire and who has subsequently fled Brighton to Guildford where her dad lives.

The thing you should know about my sister is she’s a tramp…

I hate to admit it but it’s a home truth even I can’t ignore anymore.

She’s off the heroin and methadone but hooked on the super strength beer.

In her own words she says the last time she was ever 100% sober was at aged 11…

“Even through my pregnancies I was smoking dope,” she said.

It’s funny because she likes to proclaim that she’s off drugs. But I just tut because she says it with a can of special brew in her hand…

The long and short of it is that their house in not habitable and locked up. Katherine is seriously killing herself and my nieces are scared shitless.

To top it all off, last night Katherine broke down in tears and revealed she was raped when she was 12 years old by one of my mum’s boyfriend, while mum was crashed out up stairs drunk on brandy.

I remember the night. Peter was our mum’s new boyfriend of about 6 months. We had spent a summer in his house in Wales. Peter sold boats and paid us a visit in Brighton having been to the Southampton Boat Show.

He turned up with wine, cheese, brandy and a Chinese. We had a good night and for 28 years I never knew anything untoward happened, until last night when Katherine dropped the bombshell.

“Why do you think I’m a lesbian?” she said.

On top of that she said Uncle Hugh tried to kiss her. In a way that shocked me more. Peter was a stranger but Uncle Hugh was someone I’ve known all my life and who was very much a father figure to me growing up.

He was incidentally the only to totally disown Katherine once her heroin addiction became known, following our mum’s death in 2001.

http://www.theargus.co.uk/archive/2001/09/14/Brighton+Hove+Archive/5143948.Soldier_s_plea_for_mother/

http://www.orcadian.co.uk/archive/2001/archive55.htm

Katherine spent the night of the fire in a police cell. The following night she spent on my sofa. The night after she spent at the hostel where Ruby was staying, the night after that she slept on the street and the following night back on my sofa. That was yesterday and she was meant to slept on my sofa again tonight but she nowhere to be seen and I have no way of contacting her.

The bottom line is that she’s heading for the grave at an alarming fast rate.

Her daughter’s admit that even though she is generally messed up, she’s really really messed up at the moment.

“She just doesn’t care anymore. She doesn’t care about anything. She drinks JD all day and gets paralytic drunk,” Ruby told me.

They are scared and I am scared. Katherine is killing herself and it’s only a matter of time before I get the news. Hey it could even be happening tonight as I write this.

My name is Matthew Taylor and I’m her brother. I run my own business and live with Karina and our kids, Elizabeth (5 years old) and Lewis (9 months old).

http://matthewtaylor.yolasite.com/

I can only help so much and I’m doing everything I can. Katherine is welcome to stay in our spare room for as long as she wants. Karina has brought her new knickers, socks, clothes and shoes. We’ll feed her, bath her and even read her bedtime stories if it’ll help. But I have limitations. As the old saying goes- You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.

Which brings me to my blog. My family is in trouble…

Can you help?

2.20am on the morning of the 22nd February 2011.

I wish I was asleep but alas I’m not because my son Lewis is making piglet noises and talking in his sleep having just suckled at his mother’s breast.

The night started so well and with such promise. I went to bed early like the good boy I am. 9.30pm, leaving Karina getting high on the music of the Kings of Leon, trying to play the tablature of the song Birthday on the guitar.

Only to be rudely awakened by Karina coming to bed at 11.30pm. She awoke me by gesturing to Lewis who was asleep in the cot. The impression I got was that I should look at the awkward position he had got himself into.

(Leave him in that position, I thought in my head. He’s been asleep thus far; you may as well leave him to it.)

Karina repositioned him and went to bed herself.

Once in bed she nestled up and we had a cuddle to seal the night away.

I noticed she had been twisting her hair. This is something she does whenever she’s stressed or tired, so I stroked her arm a hundred times to sooth her stresses and strains away.

At last sleep slowly approached.

That was until Karina and Lewis started to snore in unison. Lewis snored due his blocked nose and Karina due to her general snoring condition.

Sleep quickly retreated and I was left lying awake.

So I went down stairs and checked my Facebook page.

Earlier in the evening, I posted three news stories about he recent civilian war casualties in Afghanistan, which wasn’t being reported by the Western press.

‘Why isn’t the Western Press reporting the mounting civilian death toll in Afghanistan I shouted away?’

Martin Sprigg replied with ‘Doh, they aren’t because if the public knew what was going on they’ll demand our troops withdraw and come home.’

Karina came down blurred eyed.

‘I thought you was in bed’, she said.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her I got up was because her snoring was keeping me awake.

“You should get some sleep Matt”, she said.

Anyway, ten minutes later I took her advise and went to bed.

Creeping into the bedroom I thought there was a monster there. The quilt and billows were piled every which way and all I could hear was what could only be described as a monster grunting away in the darkness.

Once getting closer I realized it was Lewis breast-feeding. (A noisy piglet suckling on his mother’s breasts. Arh, so cute but so naturally guttural.)

Once he had his fill the suckling/grunting subsided and for a moment, it looked like sleep would sweep me away to Never Never Land.

(I was having a fantasy of experiencing a vision of standing at the highest hill in Brighton and watching a nuclear missile strike at the heart of Brighton. Off looking behind me and seeing further nuclear missiles explode and their raising mushroom clouds as far of as London. I knew the time and day it would happen and told everyone on Facebook of my vision.

My status read, ‘Matthew is certain that Great Britain will experience nuclear annihilation at 12 noon, on the 4^th of March 2011 because I was standing at the top of a hill over looking Brighton and had a vision of nuclear weapons raining down and mushroom clouds raising all around. I hope it’s nothing but if not, beware and prepare.’

On the 4^th of March 2011, I made Karina, Elizabeth and Lewis pack their most prized possessions and follow me up the hill to relive my vision. I lugged up a big suitcase full of my pictures, DVD’s, books and diaries. Elizabeth had a bag full of toys and Karina carried a bag full of nappies, food jars and a change of clothes for Lewis. She thought the whole thing was a complete waste of time and was only doing it because I had demanded she do so.

Low and behold at 12 noon, Nuclear weapons stared raining down and mushroom clouds started rising. My vision had come true, but before any nuclear blast hit us, a bright light from the sky engulfed us and we were lifted up into a spaceship and were whisked away to a briefing on the far side of the moon for a briefing, before traveling further to a huge underwater city on Europa, a moon of Jupiter, to start a new life.)

But just as Peter Pan stretched out his hand to whisk me away, Lewis began to whine.

And whine, whine and whine.

Karina picked him up and wouldn’t let him go.

The previous evening Karina and I had a long conversation about the best course of action to take when Lewis whines. Pick him up briefly and put him back without any further stimulation.

So after counting to 120 seconds and waiting for Karina to put him back in the cot, I gave up.

Only to be amazed by Karina getting up and turning the light on.

“Why have you done that Karina?” I asked.

“He may have pooed in his nappy” came her reply.

But there was no poo and after the light going off Karina laid him back into the cot.

As expected, there was no way he was settling. Karina tried and tried. I could hear the tone of her voice become more and more desperate.

“Please Lewis, lay down and get to sleep,” she pleaded.

‘Fat chance’, I thought, especially after waking him up having turned the light on.

Karina couldn’t handle it any longer and fled from the room. Leaving me alone with him.

He whined, whined and whined some more. After five minutes, I could stand no more and tried my best to get him to rest.

I picked him up, smoothed him for twenty seconds and put him back.

It seemed to work for a bit. The whining continued but it seemed as though it was subsiding. That was of-course until Karina came back in the room.

All of a sudden Lewis sensed her present and upped the anti.

Karina wasn’t about to take command so I did. And for some reason Karina let out a stifled laugh.

“What on fucks sake are you laughing for?” I admonished her, after which she fell silent and said no more.

I tried holding him close and getting him to sleep but all he was interested in was getting closer to his mum.

“Here,” she said, “Let me feed him.”

And that was how I let them at 2.20am. Lewis grunting away on his mother’s breast, slowly but surely falling asleep.

It’s just gone three am and it’s about time I’d done the same.

Many thanks for listening and please come back again.