Fiddling while Rome burns

… or however you wish to put it … sleepwalking to oblivion … but even your humble correspondent is guilty of it. It’s 0300 or 3 a.m., our time, having just awoken, and what am I doing? Reposting pretty architecture, landscapes, embroidery, reposting memes such as this:

And what am I failing to do? Failing to adequately bring to your attention this kind of thing:

Jen’s a good lady but still at the stage of asking what’s going on, supporting a party which will set things right … Reform under Yusuf and Farage … who are in thrall to the very terrorists who are hiding weaponry in their secret cathedrals and whose Smami have said more than once are coming door to door to demand you convert or be put to death. Yes … your own door. Who is coming to save you?

And JD Vance is due to talk to one of these ahead of the Alaskan summit. Not talking to Rupert … talking to soft on Yusuf Farage. Meanwhile:

… and this:

… and this:

… and this:

… and this:

… and this:

… and this:

Yes, it’s all over the west, innit? Coordinated, innit? By whom? Meanwhile, in the cradle of civilisation, on the front line so to speak … in Greece:

Was Jen or anyone else who was educated in the west after 1960 taught about the conquest of the Iberian peninsula? How about the corsairs and other Milsum terror boats attacking towns along the coasts of countries not yet but soon to become “the west”, once Christianity got a foothold?

Slaughtering men and enslaving women and girls for their pleasure back home in Arab lands … have you ever studied those raids? Why not? Oh, because the Wokeleft teachers never taught it in the west? Why not? Could it be that they were teaching this instead?

Meanwhile, I stay calm and keep posting on North York landscapes and on the first tube stations … or even drop in some humour. What I am failing to do is get everyone preparing defences, making escape plans, deciding precisely how they’ll meet the threat once it bursts through your front door.

Have a lovely Wednesday.