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Tuesday, 26 April 2016

Why Ampers, an immigrant, wants to leave the EU.

Remain or leave

that is the question!

First of all, a little about me so you know where I am coming from.

I am an immigrant and left home at 15 and came to England. In those days, if you could afford the ticket, you were accepted!

I wasn't well disposed towards England as we still remembered the stories of the Boer War, handed down to each generation. After a year I went, and spent three years in the States, and when I came back, joined the British Army, spending three years in Paris with NATO and one year at the War Office. After that I settled down to life in England, perfected my English (third language) and worked as a salesman, then sales manager and started, built up, and sold several companies.

During this time I began to love the English as a race, but not their establishment which I blamed for the way 27,000 of our women and children were treated in the Boer War.

I was disillusioned with politics, I had joined the Young Conservatives and became a chairman there, but wanted something better. When UKIP came along I was one of its early members, and, for a year, was even their head office manager, when they were located in Regent Street.

Now I am a Patron of UKIP and pay a thousand a year for this privilege.

Why do I want to leave the EU?

Once a country loses it's sovereignty, it becomes subservient to the people who took it away. England's history goes back far longer than William the Conqueror (1066). England has been great, with their previous empire stretching three quarters of the world. I'm not debating what you did to get it, I'm simply saying you did it, and did it as a tiny little country which, until 1975, has always punched above its weight.

The ordinary “little” people around the EU are watching Brexit, and if we win, I know that at least five countries are thinking of following us. How rewarding, as a country, if we can help these people.

I have read comments by Patrick Minford, and many other economists and the general thinking on Brexit is, it will be a little rocky in the first year, then we will be marginally better off individually in the medium term, but will then surge ahead in the longer term to be more powerful financially than any country in Europe (and, of course, the EU).

Then there is the Euro. If you search on the EU's website you will learn that after 2020, all countries will have to adopt the EU so there is a universal currency.

The EU are now asking for an EU army, and once we assign our military to the EU we will not be able to defend ourselves and, if attacked will have to rely on the EU to come to our aid, which leads into my next paragraph.

Over the years we voted “no” to 70 resolutions and each time were ganged up upon with nobody or only one or two voting with us. When Germany sets out a resolution in council it is usually carried.

Looking at the above paragraph, it seems the “anglos” are well and truly hated. A similar theme to that awful European Song Contest – something else we should leave. Nil points!

And now we come to immigration. England's (Afrikaners refer to Britain, always as Engeland) race are the English. The race is not (and hasn't been for centuries) Anglo-Saxon. It has been diluted each century by immigrants and England has always welcomed genuine asylum seekers. But we can only let in those economic migrants who can contribute to our society and who can support themselves for four to five years. They must pay in taxes before they gain access to our NHS and benefits. By knowing how many we will let in each year, we can plan for the number of hospital beds, and staff we need to train; schools we need to build and teachers we need to train; GPs and surgeries we need to increase by. Not knowing how many will come from the EU makes this task impossible.

The United Nations term of Asylum Seeker is “they cease to be asylum seekers the moment they leave the first safe country they arrive at”.

Iceland, approx two thirds the size of Basildon, is doing extremely well outside of the EU. Britain is the fifth largest economy, except it has, since 2005, dropped from 5th to 12th, but only in terms of household income. Proof indeed that unfettered immigration hasn't been beneficial to our families.

Continuing the theme of immigration – I didn't want to dwell on it too long but this is important. There are over a million migrants in the EU (figure for 2015 is 1,321,560 claimed) and what I find frightening is, after they get their passports (mos of EU within 5 years (Austria is, I believe a little longer) they will be free to travel wherever they wish within the EU. And, remember, by then our minimum wage will be over £9. Then there are our high benefits. Remainians claim they only come here to work, but government figures show a different story.

There are more, less important reasons, but these are the main ones for now; I may add to them in the comments section at another time, you may add a comment today!

Finally: What is TTIP and six reasons why the answer should scare you.


1 comment:

Andrew Ampers Taylor said...

The Secret People by G. K. Chesterton

Smile at us, pay us, pass us; but do not quite forget;
For we are the people of England, that never have spoken yet.
There is many a fat farmer that drinks less cheerfully,
There is many a free French peasant who is richer and sadder than we.
There are no folk in the whole world so helpless or so wise.
There is hunger in our bellies, there is laughter in our eyes;
You laugh at us and love us, both mugs and eyes are wet:
Only you do not know us. For we have not spoken yet.

The fine French kings came over in a flutter of flags and dames.
We liked their smiles and battles, but we never could say their names.
The blood ran red to Bosworth and the high French lords went down;
There was naught but a naked people under a naked crown.
And the eyes of the King’s Servants turned terribly every way,
And the gold of the King’s Servants rose higher every day.
They burnt the homes of the shaven men, that had been quaint and kind,
Till there was no bed in a monk’s house, nor food that man could find.
The inns of God where no man paid, that were the wall of the weak.
The King’s Servants ate them all. And still we did not speak.

And the face of the King’s Servants grew greater than the King:
He tricked them, and they trapped him, and stood round him in a ring.
The new grave lords closed round him, that had eaten the abbey’s fruits,
And the men of the new religion, with their bibles in their boots,
We saw their shoulders moving, to menace or discuss,
And some were pure and some were vile; but none took heed of us.
We saw the King as they killed him, and his face was proud and pale;
And a few men talked of freedom, while England talked of ale.

A war that we understood not came over the world and woke
Americans, Frenchmen, Irish; but we knew not the things they spoke.
They talked about rights and nature and peace and the people’s reign:
And the squires, our masters, bade us fight; and scorned us never again.
Weak if we be for ever, could none condemn us then;
Men called us serfs and drudges; men knew that we were men.
In foam and flame at Trafalgar, on Albuera plains,
We did and died like lions, to keep ourselves in chains,
We lay in living ruins; firing and fearing not
The strange fierce face of the Frenchmen who knew for what they fought,
And the man who seemed to be more than a man we strained against and broke;
And we broke our own rights with him. And still we never spoke.

Our patch of glory ended; we never heard guns again.
But the squire seemed struck in the saddle; he was foolish, as if in pain,
He leaned on a staggering lawyer, he clutched a cringing Jew,
He was stricken; it may be, after all, he was stricken at Waterloo.
Or perhaps the shades of the shaven men, whose spoil is in his house,
Come back in shining shapes at last to spoil his last carouse:
We only know the last sad squires rode slowly towards the sea,
And a new people takes the land: and still it is not we.

They have given us into the hand of new unhappy lords,
Lords without anger or honour, who dare not carry their swords.
They fight by shuffling papers; they have bright dead alien eyes;
They look at our labour and laughter as a tired man looks at flies.
And the load of their loveless pity is worse than the ancient wrongs,
Their doors are shut in the evening; and they know no songs.

We hear men speaking for us of new laws strong and sweet,
Yet is there no man speaketh as we speak in the street.
It may be we shall rise the last as Frenchmen rose the first,
Our wrath come after Russia’s wrath and our wrath be the worst.
It may be we are meant to mark with our riot and our rest
God’s scorn for all men governing. It may be beer is best.
But we are the people of England; and we have not spoken yet.
Smile at us, pay us, pass us. But do not quite forget.