70AD: The Year Punk Rock and the Pop Apocalypse was born!
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It was the year 3830 by Eleazar Ben Simon's reckoning. The cooling bodies, filling every
street, sometimes piled as many as four of five high, were so numerous that the dying did not even
have their own place to fall. There had been a million people crammed
into the city, from every nation and empire of the known world. All come to
Holy Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. But none had been spared, even now
the killing continued and there was nothing to celebrate except their own looming extinction.
The Romans had entered the city three days ago, their arms surely wearied from chopping down defenceless pilgrims: old men, the women and children. All around was the sound of sudden screams which reached his ears and now the Romans hacked with a lack of discrimination so as to almost appear disinterested.
The Romans had entered the city three days ago, their arms surely wearied from chopping down defenceless pilgrims: old men, the women and children. All around was the sound of sudden screams which reached his ears and now the Romans hacked with a lack of discrimination so as to almost appear disinterested.
To Eleazar Ben Simon it
was like the Romans were massacring his people with the gusto of an office
clerk. Lazily but with implacable determination.
This has been going on for three days now and peace would come only for lack of more victims. There were sobs of the fallen and those whimpering and forlorn whom the Romans could not even be bothered to kill, these sounds were accompanied by the gasps of pain of the dying and their final passing gave rise to peace.
The amount of blood could not be believed. As Eleazar, former leader of the Zealots hid himself inside his attic hide-out, surveying with a supreme sense of affront, the carnage the Romans were now wreaking on his city and his people.
This has been going on for three days now and peace would come only for lack of more victims. There were sobs of the fallen and those whimpering and forlorn whom the Romans could not even be bothered to kill, these sounds were accompanied by the gasps of pain of the dying and their final passing gave rise to peace.
The amount of blood could not be believed. As Eleazar, former leader of the Zealots hid himself inside his attic hide-out, surveying with a supreme sense of affront, the carnage the Romans were now wreaking on his city and his people.
At that point, he started to plan. He saw now that it was impossible
to ever beat the Westerners in open war. There would have to be another way but it would be a long term project. They had nearly killed his people and possibly
they intended to wipe them out altogether, but as long as a remnant could be
found, they would work his plan. A plan which would probably bear no fruit even
in his lifetime or that of his children, but one day the Westerners would be
brought low and his people would reign supreme on the ashes of their
civilisation.
But they would not hack the bodies, nor rape the women and
burn the holy places. These were not fit tasks for God’s chosen people. They
would find others to do these things for them. They would recruit from the Westerners
themselves the agents of their own downfall. It all became very clear in Eleazar’s mind, even in the midst of their utmost destruction and greatest loss, he knew
that destiny had singled him out to conceive this plan which would stretch far far
into the future, far beyond even the Roman’s sight, and would leave his people
conquerors of the whole world. He laughed and slowly muttered to himself over and over, ‘give ‘em enough rope,’ until it became a low chant which seemed to take flight on a sudden breeze above the smoldering, burnt out city. Their revenge would be terrible, more terrible if it were possible than the sight of the butchered men and women blood-staining the streets of the holiest city on Earth. 'Give 'em enough rope!'
He shuddered at the thought of their total subjugation which though
remote in time, was already an absolute certainty for him because he knew God
would not stand this affront. As he reasoned he concluded that this had all
transpired for this very reason, in order to make them the eventual masters over the Earth. The fall of Jerusalem was the first necessary sacrifice. There would no doubt be many more
before they achieved their goal.
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| Joe Stummer loves red-terror so much he got the T Shirt. The BR were credited with 14,000 acts of violence in the first ten years of the group's existence.[28] According to statistics by the Ministry of Interior. A total of 75 people are thought to have been murdered by the BR. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Brigades |
Nearly two thousand years later the plan formulated by
Eleazer Ben Simon while hiding from the Roman holocaust of Jerusalem, had
ravished Europe and utterly subjugated the Westerners on all fronts. It had
been passed along in time and space with a dedication and devotion which saw
the rise and fall of Empires, and remained unchanged and unwavering. First in
the ruins of Judea in hiding from the Roman legions, then to Athens or
Marseille, to Moscow, to Portugal then finally to England. The final battle ground in the culture wars
where only one side was fighting and the other didn’t even know it was being
defeated.
To an impressionable young child, the strange solemn men and a grandmother who appeared suddenly unfamiliar and frightening, was a deeply transformative experience. A knife at the young boy’s throat, an oath sworn to the Sicarii to fight the Westerners with every ounce of blood in their body or have their throat cut like an animal: better dead if you can’t serve the Sicarii like a man. Then the sudden passage from terror to joy as a new Sicarii fighter is born.
Then the surprise of a great banquet with
sufganiyot usually reserved for Hanukah and even his own glass of wine which
was even topped up. He went to bed that night full of jelly doughnuts and thick
kosher wine, and what was more he was now a man and he had been entrusted a
solemn mission, one which he could not fail in, his people depended on him. He
would not fail them and they would support him as one man, a nation spread out
throughout the world, millions of men all devoted, like him to this one mission
and all wiling at a moment’s notice, to give any help he required. How could
they lose? They didn’t, they wouldn’t, they don’t. They went from victory to
victory and the dazzling beauty of it all was that no one suspected a thing.
In a clothes shop in London’s King's Road a man who resembled
a straggly ginger tom cat only lacking the
fastidious grooming habits of that species, was singing a snarling and
tuneless song to the accompaniment of a duke-box. Another man of Scottish extraction was shouting instructions and encouraging him with gestures.
He had been brought into the shop by Bendie Rhodes, who had
immediately spotted a man who he could use as an unsuspecting tool in his people's undeclared war. He had spotted an angle he could work, he could use the family
clothing business as a way to push forward new and degenerate fashions and use
music so the two prongs act in symbiosis to create a new and horribly degraded counter culture.
It had been observed that despite the attempts of their
agents in the 60’s to destabilise British society using pop-music, they had
found that instead it had led to a flowering of British culture and an
intellectual growth in young people who were being introduced suddenly to
various metaphysical, psychological and social concepts contained within the
lyrics to 60’s pop music and had managed to assimilate these very
well. Things were even worse now in the 70’s with bands like Pink Floyd who were
making cogent and highly articulate protests about the ruling elite and were
likewise encouraging young people to have the same intelligent and cogent
approach. It was a disaster! Pink Floyd had to be stopped and he had found the
very man to help undermine their intellectual and articulate approach. Johnny
Rotten: the human antidote to Pink Floyd.
Bendie Rhodes was pleased with his creation. The snarling
spitting vomiting Sex Pistols, but felt that pop music was rather like
politics. If you wanted complete control you had to have your hand up all the
backsides otherwise you were just a weird bloke with a puppet on his arm. He had been tipped off that the band the 101'ers had a
lead singer who was also a secret member of the Sicarii and what was more, his
father was an eminence gris of the British secret service and it was custom to
reward the offspring of those who served their country with some kind of cushy
number in the arts.
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| Malcolm McLaren and Dame Vivienne Westwood DBE RDI. Pro-rape and paedo T shirt apparently created by Bernie Rhodes. |
The invention of pop music allowed the British government to branch out and provide more career opportunities to both reward and keep a person holding a sensitive position’s offspring in the public eye, since if all an agent had to do to monitor a former agent's family member's activity was to turn on the television then so much the better. The Americans had been doing something very similar with senior military staff and most of the most famous music stars of the 1960’s were promoted solely on the basis of their father’s military service record. Dee Dee Ramone, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Frank Zappa, Kris Kristofersen, Michael Stipe, all benefited from the US military’s generous cultural investment programme.
John Mellors was exactly the puppet Bendie needed to
complete his pop pantomime and cultural assault on the Westerners. Already the
man was in disguise, a member of the British elite but behind enemy lines with
the common punk rabble affecting a mock cockney accent and pretending to be hard
up and calling himself Joe Stummer. Above all he was instructed by Bendie to
always pretend to be working class and affect a working class accent.
Additionally, despite being able to sing quite well he was told above all, to
sing badly. To affect an out of tune raspy voice which above all, was to sound
bad.
If Bendie could convince young people to enjoy bad music with a very
feeble and barely constructed intellectual message then he would be able to
make them emulate this and therefore weaken the intellectual development of an
entire nation, thus protecting the elite of which he was a part, from any well
orchestrated and unmatchable intellectual attack. Much better to have any
citizens who oppose you dressed in rags, drunk and shouting curses because they
are so much easier to arrest and so much easier for the general public to
disdain.
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| A Total Waste of Everybody's Time. |
Joe Strummer had the misfortune to inaugurate the annual Christmas-time cull of pop stars, the first of what
would soon become an annual tradition as pop stars who had outlived their
usefulness or had been ignoring the memos from the Sicarii pop-star management
team. He became a victim of the great dead rock star Christmas lottery which has
seen such legends as James Brown, David Bowie, George Michael, all fail to have
their contracts renewed for the following infernal year.
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| Punk Pop One Eyed Illuminati Dajjal Apocalypse Time! |
Reality dawned on Johnny Rotten in 1979 in San Francisco, as he looked out at the audience and saw for the first time what he
had helped create and he took the mike, vowing to end this artificial pantomime and hanging up his puppet strings for good when he said the words, ‘ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?’
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| Johnny Rotten: Plastic punk pop product. |
The previous article was particularly difficult for me to write and research because I love the Sex Pistols and The Clash.....Fucking hate Malcolm Mclaren though.
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| Not you as well..... |
