So I took someone around the city yesterday. She is from Odessa and wanted to see Bristol. We started at the museum.
Now, I know that Bristol is irredeemably woke, but not having been to the centre for a long time, it tends to hit me in the face when I do make the effort. Motorcycle, bicycle or bus is the only practicable means of getting around as the centre has become pretty much impossible for cars due to a council that hates them. So we used the Guzzi.
As you go into the museum, there’s a BLM mural in the foyer. Cut out figures of black people with labels saying that they want to be safe are dotted about. It seems that no one has told the management that this is nothing more than a US import and a grift at that. FFS, this is Bristol, you’d be hard pressed to find anywhere safer, frankly. I am not aware of masses of racial killings going on. That’s because there aren’t.
Then there’s the exhibits. Time after time, little labels were there to remind us of the unpalatable truth – i.e. slavery. Indeed, they were beating us over the head with slavery. Yet one painting of Egypt set around the turn of the 20th Century during the Ottoman occupation, made no mention of the Ottoman’s penchant for white sleaves, oh no, just the back ones.
By the time we had walked around the place, I was heartily sick of being lectured on the subject, along with the irritation at the self flagellation going on. Yes, there was slavery. We put an end to it. Give it a fucking rest. None of the exhibits were relevant to the subject other than some of the people in the paintings had been slave owners or the location (a painting set in St Kitts) had plantations, or the people who owned the objects had a link to the trade. Sure, true enough, but not remotely relevant and it made for an annoying experience. My friend speaks little English and this seemed to pass her by as she just enjoyed the paintings and displays as they were originally intended.
On the ride home, some wanker was walking along the street carrying a Palestinian flag. Well, of course, it’s Bristol, what did I expect?
I have come to hate my home city.
I did my only trip to Bristol in 2015, by that time my domestic sightseeing was pretty much done, I now enjoy the racist countryside around Northumberland – can be weeks without seeing a brown face and its associated chip on the shoulder.
I did notice that the last time I was up that way about four years ago.
I left the UK, lots of reasons, but your latest missive described perfectly one of them.
It’s fckd. It’s never going to get better, I’m glad I left and on the odd occasion I visit it takes about a day to remind me why I left.
It’s very depressing, all of western Europe is fuckd as well.
Came up through Northumberland yesterday on the train (short city break to Edinburgh) and it looked nice!
The bar is set pretty low when it comes to linking 18th and 19th century folk to slavery. Basically anyone who wore cotton or put sugar in their tea was culpable. Pretty much the same as anyone having any appliance with a rechargeable battery is now.
And they sailed right under that bar. The ceramics on display ‘hid an uncomfortable truth,’ for example. Talk about stretching it. I’m not remotely uncomfortable, but then, being a student of history, I understand it in all its context.
I’m starting to get distinct feelings of deja vu for the late 70s working up to 1979, the first election I voted in.
Then it was unions: Jack Jones, Len Murray and a disgusting little nasally whining weasel called Clive Jenkins, perhaps the most notable (i.e. repellant). Likely these names don’t mean anything to many reading this, but the zeitgeist in the 70s was very much that they were they who must be obeyed, without who’s co-operation government would be pretty well impossible.
That was the run up to the 79 election with them making pretty direct threats as to how they would bring down Thatcher should the people dare to elect her.
Had there been an election in the autumn of 78, labour may well have scraped in, but the groveling from labour – the government in 1978 – was rewarded with the so-called “winter of discontent” and the rest, as they say, is history.
But the unions, much as I despised them at the time (and still do), were not fundamentally anti British or anti western or anti civilization. Looking back on them now, compared to the degenerate filth of today, they were veritable beacons of reason and good faith!
What have we got today? Black lying murderers, islamofilth, the rainbow of nihilistic degeneracy.
These are all minorities and I suspect it won’t be too long before they are reminded of this good and hard.
I, for one, will have not an atom of sympathy when that happens as happen it will.
The behaviour of these children is nothing historically unique.
Neither will be the inevitable anger of the majority when it does appear.
Sorry to any Bristolians who might be offended but I fucking hate the place. I have to go there on a regular basis to take our boy to a place he needs to go. As soon as I see the Commie graffiti on the M32 my heart sinks. I then panic about whether I will be able to park right outside the place we are going to because if I can’t do that and be covered by the buildings CCTV then I know that I’m in for a three hour plus wait in the car whilst my wife and boy go in. I dare not leave the car unattended out of sight of the building’s cctv in a side street for fear of it being broken into as the area where we need to go is a high crime area and the local commie council do fuck all about dealing with that.
I really hate Bristol, I hate the crime, I hate the Commie governance and I do my damnedest not to spend any money in the place.
When I first came to the city in 1976, it was a lovely place to live. I now live outside the city, so rarely venture into the centre. I hardly know the place. This was a rare outing for me and I felt ill at ease and out of place. As much a visitor as my Ukrainian friend.
That will explain why I never hear a Brissle accent on Holby Casuality City.
Last worked there about 1980. A lovely City. Nice pubs. Then.
What happened to all the Chinese. The South Asians, the Italians.
Isambard does not sound like ye olde Engerland name.
Probably a railway called the Great Western, and a ship called the Great Britain would be reasons for righteous riots and calls for repahrashons maan now.
We are truly fucked.
Seems to be committing cultural suicide.
A better analogy would be a parasite eating it from the inside out.
Good one. Parasites eventually kill their hosts.
“It seems that no one has told the management that this is nothing more than a US import and a grift at that.”
Tell them that the co-founder of BLM Rhode Island has endorsed Trump. “Because everybody else sucks”. Heh.