The Magna Carta, the charter of English liberties was imposed on King John in 1215, it will be dead on its anniversary in 2015. It has been shredded in British Occupied Ireland by the Secret Services and their front man the unelected English autocrat Paterson, who re-introduced the wartime instrument of internment without trial, in total disdain of a supposed peace process.
The first published edition of the Magna Carta, appeared in 1759 produced by William Blackstone, serving later as a source of U.S. constitutional law in “The Great Charter and the Charter of the Forest.” Both charters have served significantly, as the basis for law in the legal profession and the basis of human rights activity in the Charter of Liberties, widely recognized as the cornerstone of fundamental rights or as Winston Churchill put it, “the charter of every self-respecting man at any time in any land.”
The Charter in 1679 was elaborated to include the Habeas Corpus Act, formally titled “an Act for the better securing the liberty of the subject, and for prevention of imprisonment beyond the seas.” The modern version is internment or in the US called “rendition” imprisonment for torture. Much of English law was incorporated into the U.S. Constitution affirming, “the writ of habeas corpus shall not be suspended” and in 1961, the U.S. Supreme Court further ruled that rights guaranteed by this Act were “considered by the Founders as the highest safeguard of liberty, providing that no “person shall be deprived of life, liberty or property, without due process of law and a speedy and public trial.”
I was over on Richards’s boat for the first time last night. He had a some people for dinner who are not my sort, stockbrokers, bankers with their ugly loud mouthed wives. Right enough they know a few good tax fiddles but essentially they are boring bastards. I look at their wives and no wonder I want a different one every day just like I can't imagine having to drive a bus everyday again through rush hour?
LONDON HUMAN RIGHTS BRITISH OCCUPIED IRELAND
I was over on Richards’s boat for the first time last night. He had a some people for dinner who are not my sort, stockbrokers, bankers with their ugly loud mouthed wives. Right enough they know a few good tax fiddles but essentially they are boring bastards. I look at their wives and no wonder I want a different one every day just like I can't imagine having to drive a bus everyday again through rush hour? Feck that for a for a game of soldiers. I can’t even think about that sort of work without a shiver going down my spine. Imagine being a poor barsteward stuck in some factory or mucking around a building site in wellies? Not sure I would last long in an office either. I'm amazed more people don’t go to lunch and never come back. How do they all keep getting up in the morning or even stay in bed with them same wives? Must be hungry feckers to get them rambling into their bathrooms, to look at their soulless selves in the mirror every morning. So today's the day, as Richard's world bank officials wing their way to Washington to catch up on the latest tax fiddle.
Today I've decided to have all the sails hoisted with full of wind. I could feel that way myself as we cut loose from the stale hangover of last night's decadent dinner. I got an opportunity to drop the bombshell to Richard, about his proposed protest visit up the Thames to London for the Olympics. Besides right now I feel like I could happily sail off into another dimension. Maybe discover a whole new world on the way to London, devoid of all these selfish wankers in the extreme. Perhaps I’d soon be lonely I suppose but it beats hangin around growing stale and vegetating. On the way to London, we'll keep sailing around all these Indonesian islands and see what comes to mind along the way.
People regularly ask me about a sailing destination. Have you any idea where you are going Bernie, I'm asked? WelI i give them an auld grin but to tell the truth I haven’t a feckin clue and frankly I know feck all about navigation either. Sextant no, sex yes!. All the fiddly stuff I leave to Olive. She gives me a compass head and I steer. She has an instinct, some people always seem to know exactly where they are. The Indonesians got around, hopping from Island to island, within sight of land almost all the time. Bloody amazing how they found their way across the Pacific on a few shells and twigs.Personally, I don’t know where I am most of the time. Wind, water, tide-tables, dates, headings, wind speed, haven't a clue and neither do I give a toss. A day at a time each one's a bonus. So the sail fills, the mast bends, I send Richard below deck while Olive and I fly across the ocean. One hand on the helm Olive in her harness tethered short enough to a jackstay, to prevent her falling overboard, while I rip her rigging off, oil her sterngland and ram it up her forecastle. Jaysus, it feels good with the wind and spray on our face and her arse drippin sea-water.
Later Richard and I were chattin about the sixties in London, John Lennon, the Beatles, the Rollingstones, the Who and we wonder how the world has morphed back into squares somehow. Everyone was either scooting off to the South coast or giving peace a chance with John. We both always loved watching sailboats and the freedom of the ocean, so I suppose that's why we both ended up with boats and why this boy kept busy chasing different tail every day. Feckin paradise, nothing to do but watch the sail billow and give the ould rudder a nudge every now and then. Gives me a chance to think about Olive's arse again. It’s not just about sex though, there's somethin spiritual about the whole thing. I leave Richard in charge and I head for a berth below to a sleep, listening to the sound of reggae music drift across the water.
Hallo says I, nice mornin for something. She smiles a lovely Philipinne smile and I want to phuk her again but she just stands there looking at the boat or more specifically the mainsail weighing about 150 pounds, more wet. "Think you could get it up there," she says pointing up the mainmast. "Sure, I say, why?" "I need a trimmer," she says. "Ach put the kettle on, I'm famished I say." "Morning Richard," as I meet him. "I don' want to go to London." he says, " I don’t think I like England anymore. Not even for a visit." Shut up Richard we discussed it alreadyor would you prefer discuss it with your wife ?" "Please No ! please I beg you, she will take me for everything, a bar girl everyday for the rest of my life is cheaper than that. " he said. "Get on with it, Olive and I are going down below for some breakfast." Well I must be honest. I’m really thinking, I’d bloody well like to ride Olive again. Get her tiny little white skirt off and go for a bit of muff-diving. She has gorgeous legs and I know I definitely won’t feel right till I have her again. Can’t keep my eyes off her thighs, as she wriggles her way into the cabin and onto the bunk.
"Funny people the English," I say to Richard later, "always talk like they can win everything, be it the London Olympics or the upcoming European football tournament. Always ignoring fantastic talent from other countries and teams, then they are so, so disappointed when they lose. Football is just a game but the English are brain washed, like as in Bill Shankly who said, "Football is not a matter of life or death, it's much more important than life or death." It seems to be like that when it comes to British Occupied Ireland too. I mean we are just after 40 years of deadly troubles, had a peace agreement and they go along and break i,t to intern without trial an Irish prisoner right's activist called Marian Price and torture her in solitary confinement. Its not not just the Olympics or the European Football finals, ;like I said yesterday its not bloody cricket, old boy !
More accurately we have an un-elected, demented English barsteward in Ireland perverting the course of justice, ripping up Queens pardons or loosing them to start another 40 years of war in Ireland. Wind your neck in you double eyed barsteward, leave the Irish women and men play their grown up games in their own country, stop interfering in other people's business and get back to yer wanking! Until you do, this Galway Whooker is sailing up your London Olympics, up your Thames, up your's mate! You see Ghengis, my voodoo helps. I have a bag of old bones scavenged from graveyards all over the UK. Whenever things get a bit too much or I am annoyed, I ride on the Galway Whooker by moonlight and cast them. Seems to work everytime, it worked with Brian Faulkner. The Brits have been after them for years but they can sod off. I’ve told them, they can have the bones back but only when we have Marian, our political prisoners and our country back. Beware of Shankley's ghost England to lose on penalties? Blame the ref is it or blame epic literature? Life's a voyage, we're all adrift on the ocean of life, some more than others. Sometimes we sail calmly, sometimes buffeted by storms from nowhere. We are now sailing into uncharted waters, as we approach London Olympics 2012.
“There are praises of flowers who epitomise the unconquerable spirit of Irish womanhood. Let no man dare to scorn these women and let your weeds of indifference and sleeping roses blush in everlasting shame.”—Bobby Sands
Marian Price has been politically interned now without trial in British Occupied Ireland for over 1 year in almost total solitary confinement. After previously been force fed 400 times by the British while on 200 days of hunger strike, Marian now has very serious health problems and is in considerable constant pain, as result of her previous treatment. She is now has to be moved in a wheel chair and the doctors say she should either be in a hospital or at home. The British autocrat has instructed loyalist prisoners to bang on the walls of her prison all night and shout Loyalist slogans in support of the queen so that she cannot sleep.She had previously received a Royal pardon which would mean she should be released immediately, the British now say they have lost it.
The UN special rapporteur on torture recently called for solitary confinement to be banned in all but 'exceptional circumstances' and that it never to last more than 15 days. The British are also ignoring the first Geneva Convention of 1864 in the treatment of Marian, as per her injuries from their previous torture. Despite a court ordering her release, this political internment ordered by an un-elected Englishman in Ireland, is administered using deprivation techniques, banned by the European Court in Strasbourg, where Britain was found guilty of torture in British Occupied Ireland.
We call on everyone to boycott the London Olympics and all of its sponsors !
Olympics London, London Olympics, Olympics, Olympic, Olympic Games, Games, Two Thousand and Twelve, 2012, Twenty-Twelve, London, medals, sponsors, summer, gold, silver, bronze
The Olympic Games have prostituted themselves to be the most effective marketing platform in the world, to billions of consumers, in more than 200 countries around the world. Money generated by business partnerships, amounts to over 40% of Olympic revenue. In exchange sponsorship, companies get marketing rights in territories, category with various Olympic logos and images.
The following companies are TOP Partners for the London 2012 Olympic Games. McDonalds, Coca-Cola, Adidas, Panasonic, Acer, Atos, Dow, GE, Omega, Proctor & Gamble, Samsung, VISA and Nike. Organisers in London along with the International Olympic Committee, are policing everything to protect more than 53 sponsors and partners from locall business. Businesses who did not pay sponsorship from £5 million to £100 million are policed out by officials.
Small businesses with venues in east London, won't be allowed to operate normally, with one owner saying, "What they talked about was winning the Olympic bid based on diversity, support for the local area and support for the local businesses, but we've been shut out." While the Olympics are accused of using the Games to "greenwash" unethical corporations who sponsor.
The Olympic so-called TOP sponsors, pay a minimum of $100m each for 10-year contracts, while Tier One sponsors for London alone. have paid £40m each. London 2012 organizers, have raised £700m locally. Dow's sponsorship is controversial, as campaigners claim it has debts because of its1984 Bhopal disaster in India, which killed 20,000 people. Recently protesters led by MPs, including London mayor candidate Ken Livingstone, have many more grievances. BP is also a target of protest groups, which includes the UK Tar Sands Network who believe the extraction of polluting tar sands, combined with the Deepwater Horizon disaster, make BP "one of the least sustainable companies on earth".
Rio Tinto using metal from their controversial Utah mine make the medals, while being the number one emitter of toxins, known to harm human health. Greenwash Gold 2012 Campaign has condemned multinational sponsors such as BP, Rio Tinto and Dow Chemical Company, paying huge sums to become Olympic sponsors, stressing these three companies alone, have caused environmental degradation, damaged public health and failed to clean up their pollution.
London's Orwellian Blood Olympics carry criminal sanctions, for violating the exclusivity of elite sponsors' brands, with special hit squads of "brand police" forcing pubs to take down signs of free TV viewing, to removing stickers with the brand-names other than those products made by the games' sponsors. The special hit squads of "brand police" are also sending takedown notices to YouTube and Facebook of anything related to occupied Ireland, political prisoners of conscience, internment without trial or games visitors, who have the cheek to post personal images for friends to see. These rules have been made criminal ones, so violating the sponsors means the "brand police" will probabaly end up imprisoning restless Londoner natives.
Images or words suggesting a link with the Games is also criminal. Any two from the following list: Games, Two Thousand and Twelve, 2012, Twenty-Twelve combined with London, medals, sponsors, summer, gold, silver or bronze is another likely term of imprisonment. London's Olympic bid insisted on these restrictions to get sponsors, making promises to restrict free speech and personal expression. As Olympic sponsors insist on even more restrictions and surveillance than the previous games, suggesting a promise in the near future to imprison all non-attendees and permanently tattoo sponsors' logos such as McDonalds, Coca-Cola, the British Crown on the faces and chests of all those non-ticket-buyers from British Occupied Ireland.
London Olympics claim to be the greenest ever, has been dismissed vehemently as “corporate spin” by human rights groups, who launched a campaign against the toxic blood sponsors. Aside from the British Empire itself being accused of crimes against humanity in Occupied Ireland, Meredith Alexander the Olympics “ethics tsar” has resigned in opposition to the chemical firms’ who sponsor and will lead human rights activists from the United States, Canada, India, Ireland which is gathering international momentum. She said Britain has broken its promise to be the greenest games ever, by picking toxic sponsors such as Dow one of the most polluted sites on the planet; a major mining polluter, Rio Tinto and BP who are involved in the dirtiest form of oil. BP was responsible for the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, in Alberta, Canada a carbon intensive operation, polluting and damaging the eco system.
There is nothing green about the Bloody London Olympics, certainly not from any real Irish people left in Occupied Ireland, Britain has more political prisoners of conscience per head of the population than China and it certainly engages in more fascist censorship, than the People Republic or even Hitler's Nazi book burners of Munich ever did. NO ! the whole corporate set up and Orwellian backdrop of the London Olympics is bloody indeed.
Thursday May 17, 2012 10:14
by BrianClarkeNUJ - AllVoices
