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Like when you say some people are in your country, and some aren’t, and then you say that the people are not in your country don’t count.  You can’t do that without consequences.

What does that mean?

It means that someone who has run to your door, and is pounding on it to be let in because they are being chased by psychopaths, is met by you saying: “sorry, mate, you’re not from around here, you’re going to need to bugger of.”

But there’s this: countries don’t exist.  They’re made up.  It might be easy to think countries are real when you live on an island, but that’s not a “country” that’s a bunch of people with the same language and culture stuck together because of the sea.  If you get rid of the idea of countries then what you’re saying is: because you are from a place ten metres over there I have no obligation to help you even if you and your family are in deadly peril.  Which is, I hope we can all agree, bonkers.

If we let everyone into our weird false concept called a country who will bloody pay for it?  Eh?

Well, if we don’t who will pay for that?  Who will pay for a generation of people in refugee camps without healthcare, education and hope?  You can’t just do what you want without consequences for either others of your brothers and sisters, or the ecosystems.  Shouldn’t we make decisions that have positive consequences?

Let in refugees.

Please.

***

That was an excerpt from one of my policies.  The one called: “FFS are you still being an arse about refugees?”

“You can’t do whatever you want.”

It’s Lonely On My Soapbox, 2017

 

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Really.  You can’t.

Imagine if you did.  Imagine if you were just allowed to make music and videos and put it on TV and the radio and the internet with no restrictions and anyone could just listen to you as you spoke about half the planet as bitches and whores and how they needed to appreciate your sexual prowess more but keep the talking and the ideas down.  Imagine.  That would be pure insanity.  Imagine the damage that would do.  It would have the potential to vandalise the perceptions of all young people as they grew up: boys and girls and those not sure which they are or if there really is just two types of anything.  That would be terrible.

Much better for society to say, “um, no, it doesn’t reflect your upbringing, it’s not your autobiography of the streets, because – even though I’ve never met your mum – I’m pretty sure your mum would have given you the death stare hard out if you had you ever showed up home late one night and called her a bitch or a ho.  Pretty sure.  So, yeah, you’re not allowed to say all the crap because actually it’s a kind of hate speech.  It really is.”  And then we went right ahead and we didn’t listen to all your nonsense about free speech.  No one is free to say what they want.  No. One.  Grow up.

***

That was an excerpt from one of my policies.  The one called: “FFS are you still being an arse about women?”

“You can’t do whatever you want.”

It’s Lonely On My Soapbox, 2017

 

 

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Because:

  • of all the beautiful nature we share Earth with of which we are just a part, and
  • other people.

Thanks for coming to this, the opening address of my non-registered party of one provisionally called: It’s lonely on my soap box.

Imagine a cold, old community hall with no one in it.  I am standing on a box at one end.  There is no here.  I am talking to myself.  You are not there.  You are reading about it and imagining that you are, but there doesn’t exist.  I’m not there either.  Do you follow me?  Imagining is going to be very important.

Will you offer analysis of the election?

Your disembodied voice asks me.

No.

What will you do?

I will just explain this:

*points at writing on the whiteboard next to me*

You can’t do whatever you like because:

  • of all the beautiful nature we share Earth with of which we are just a part, and
  • other people.

That doesn’t seem like much.

I know, but it is.  It’s actually everything.

 

“You can’t do whatever you want.”

It’s Lonely On My Soapbox, 2017