Straining The Influx, Flushing The Excess

When it comes to immigration policy, there are a few options available to you as the host country if the floodgates have been opened too far and the influx starts to threaten the fabric of the settled society.

You can strain the influx of future immigration — not putting stress on — by tightening the restrictions, or setting higher standards for what constitutes an “acceptable” immigrant.  Many countries have done this in the past, whether the sieve was academic (minimum education standards such as eighth-grade-, twelfth-grade- or even graduate levels), skills (tradespeople or industry-savvy applicants such as carpenters, steelworkers, forestry specialists or computer programmers), and finally financial:  people who have been successful in their home countries and raised their standard of living to the point where their arrival into the host country will not require financial assistance from the government or charity organizations and may in fact become employment creators.  (One more is military service for younger men and perhaps women, too, but this approach is fraught with potential problems, which is why the .dotmil generally has fairly strict standards for foreign recruits, or else has a savage, no-nonsense approach to assimilation like the French Foreign Legion.)

When a nation like the Netherlands decides to apply tighter standards or even close entry altogether, you have to realize that even for the famously-tolerant Dutch, immigration has put too much of a stress on their society, both financial and more especially to their culture.  Which is what is happening over there:

Prime Minister Dick Schoof has promised to take a tougher line against illegal immigration. The Dutch four-party cabinet has pledged to establish ‘the strictest asylum regime ever known’ to curb immigration.”

The surge in the number of immigrants seeking asylum in the Netherlands, estimated at around 40,000 a year, has put severe pressure on public services from housing to healthcare, fueling growing concerns about the country’s ability to manage the influx.

The ruling coalition in the Netherlands, which includes Geert Wilders-led Freedom Party, has taken a tough stance on immigration. The party is known for its controlled immigration stances, and has been one of the key drivers behind proposals to tighten asylum laws in the country.

Measures on the table include limiting applications for international protection, speeding up deportations and restricting family reunification for refugees under much stricter conditions.

The Dutch government, by the way, is not doing this voluntarily.  Whereas the neo-socialist political parties had pretty much universal control of the polity in the past, the election of hardliners like the party of Geert Wilders has changed the political landscape, and government ministers now say things like “a clear mandate from the voters” when framing a tougher immigration policy.

The depth of feeling on this topic is that the Dutch, always the most quiescent of members of the European Union, are now stating quite bluntly that in order for them to enact these new immigration controls, they have to have control of their own borders — ditto the Germans, by the way — but the Dutch are even showing open willingness to leave the EU altogether if such control is denied them.

Note too that the Dutch government is framing this issue purely in terms of financial necessity, and are not touching the issue of non-assimilation.  But the Dutch, always cosmopolitan a nation, are undoubtedly looking northward to see what the (also famously-tolerant) Swedes are doing:

Sweden’s migration policy is undergoing a paradigm shift. The Government is intensifying its efforts to reduce… the number of migrants coming irregularly to Sweden. Labour immigration fraud and abuses must be stopped and the ‘shadow society’ combated. Sweden will continue to have dignified reception standards, and those who have no grounds for protection or other legal right to stay in Sweden must be expelled.

And that’s not a news organization speaking:  it’s from the Swedish government itself.

By “shadow society” they mean Muslim enclaves, who insist on setting up their own little state-within-a-state pretty much wherever they arrive, and whose establishment was made easy by Sweden’s traditional tolerance.  Ditto the many crime organizations and drug cartels, who up until now have had it relatively easy.

Well, it appears that this tolerance has reached its limits, and because the Swedes prefer orderliness over chaos, they’re prepared to do what has to be done:  reduce the influx, and expel the unwanted (being Swedes, they’ll pay these assholes over $30,000 each to leave, which gives you an idea of how much the unwanted immigrants are costing the government in terms of aid and policing).

It is in this light that we should look homeward, and think about Donald Trump’s promise that upon election, we’ll see the largest domestic deportation in history.

Let’s hope, and hope still more that when he reaches the Oval Office, this promise doesn’t suffer the fate of that “big, beautiful wall” from his last presidential campaign.

Thoughts On #2

After the second assassination attempt on Donald Trump, I’m led to ask a few questions.

If this was a serious attempt, why use an AK-47 (or SKS –there seems to be some confusion here*)?  I’m a huge fan of the old Commie rifles, but it’s common knowledge that even scoped, neither is a serious “sniper” rifle.  Hell, I wouldn’t use it past 200 yards, and I’m what could charitably called a “practiced” shooter with both the AK and SKS.

Which leads me to the next question.

Was this Routh guy just some deranged asswipe who wanted to kill Trump in principle, but like many nutcases, had little idea of how to accomplish such a thing?  (I’m kinda leaning towards this scenario, by the way, because serious shooters never let their gun barrel poke out into plain view.)

Also in my mind:  at what point, if ever, is the Secret Service going to get serious about protecting Trump?  Supposedly, some eagle-eyed agent spotted Routh’s rifle barrel sticking through the fence, and the SS agent then opened fire on his position (but not hitting him surprise surprise).  (Hell, at least this time, unlike in the previous attempt, they didn’t wait for the dickhead to start shooting before trying to suppress him.)  Frankly, I’m starting to have serious doubts about their capability to protect Trump — which leads to the final, and most disturbing question.

Is there actually a conspiracy to assassinate Trump?  I’m not going to get involved in who might be part of a conspiracy because I don’t know enough about the situation or the people who might be part of it.

Here’s what I do know:  if there’s a third assassination attempt on Donald Trump, then it will take a great deal to persuade me, in the words of Auric Goldfinger, that this is not an enemy action.  Once again, as to who the enemy is, I have no idea but many suspicions.

Right now, however, I have absolutely no doubt as to what is causing these deranged assholes like Ryan Routh and the late Thomas Crooks to act the way they are, and it can be found in the words of Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris along with all their lickspittle colleagues in Congress and the media, words which describe Trump as being “a danger to democracy”, a “dictator”, and so on.  (And I’m not the only one who believes this.)

If you keep on watering the ground, in other words, it’s an absolute certainty that some shoots [sic] are going to spring up.


*In terms of details about this business, the “fog of war” is a clear blue sky by comparison.  See here for a series of contradictory statements.

Kicking Against The Pricks

The title of this post is an old English idiom, and it refers to rebelling against authority.  It was a common theme expressed to me as a schoolboy, and were it still in use, or in use in the U.S. at all, it would no doubt still be used against me.

I mistrust and dislike most authority figures, and always have.

In the old days, of course, it was largely political institutions and their acolytes (cops, etc.), but in recent times that’s grown to include busybody scolds such as the Climate Hysterics.

Which makes the following story all the more delicious.

An Irish pub has won plaudits for its devastating reply to a local tourist centre after it told them off for using a traditional peat fire. 

JJ Houghs Singing Pub, in Banagher, Ireland posted a picture to their Facebook page of two customers innocently enjoying the first turf fire of the season on Friday.

But local tourist centre Working Holiday Ireland was not happy about the use of turf (also called peat) as fuel and decided to publicly reprimand the owners of the 250-year-old pub.

In the comment section, they said: ‘I see you’re burning turf?! Carbon footprint guys…’

The response from JJ Houghs was immediate, and savage:

‘It’s how we heat the pub. Looking at your page you rely on tourists from abroad coming to Ireland correct? How do they get here? They hardly swam.

‘How would you quantify and compare the emissions of a Boeing 747 to a small turf fire. How do your guests get around Ireland when they arrive, do they walk?

‘I also see by your page you promote Dunnes Stores, who have 138 stores in Ireland and abroad, do you query their carbon footprint? When your guests are here do you check their clothing to ensure they aren’t made of synthetic polyester, a byproduct of petroleum? Did you write your critique of my turf fire on a phone or laptop? Both of which were developed and are powered by fossil fuel technology. 

‘Maybe think before criticising a small family run pub’s turf fire. Maybe call in some day and I’ll give you my carbon footprint up your hole.’

If ever I get to Ireland, I shall go to the Singing Pub and drink and eat excessively, because they are a place after my own heart and deserve my (and everybody else’s) support.

And to hell with these simpering, self-righteous assholes who have set themselves up as Guardians of the Galaxy, or something.  A pox on them all, the interfering killjoys and wokescolds.

Worth Watching

I watched the last episode of The Grand Tour  on Prime last night, and I loved it, but not just for the antics of the three buffoons themselves.

I have often stated that if I could choose an African country to live in (and assuming that it wasn’t a frigging death trap — I know, that’s a big condition), I would unreservedly choose Zimbabwe, and specifically eastern Zimbabwe.

To call it beautiful qualifies as the understatement of the year, because it is about as close to Eden as one could imagine:  wonderful climate, interesting not to say spectacular scenery, and for some reason the locals are not the angry assholes so common in the rest of the country — perhaps because the place is so magnificent.

And if you watch One For The Road, you’ll see all that in the first quarter-hour of the show.  Even the cynical Clarkson is impressed by the scenery.  Once the trio climbs out of the semi-coastal zone, the countryside becomes the real Africa:  dry, hard and inhospitable.  But for that first hundred or so miles, as they leave the incomparable Nyangani district, is to witness Paradise.

My only regret is that they trio took the northerly route, through the festering cesspit of Harare (the capital) rather than via Bulwayo to the south, and the incredible Matopo Hills, en route to the Victoria Falls and, eventually, northern Botswana.

Anyway, I told you all that so I could play a familiar game.  As it happened, the three Brits chose their cars according to only one criterion:  which car would you like to take on that trip, under the condition that you’ve always wanted to own one, but never have.  Clarkson chose the chronically-unreliable but wonderful Lancia Monte Carlo (!):

May picked the Triumph Stag (with its terrible Triumph engine rather than the more-reliable Rover V8):

…while Hammond picked a Ford Capri:

Unsurprisingly, all were cars of their youth:  1970s-era, at a time when young men dream of their ideal cars, but can’t afford to buy them.

So, gentle Readers, after you’ve watched the show and seen the terrain over which the three Top Gear / Grand Tour men had to drive, my question to you all is:

“What dream car of your youth would you choose for the trip?”

Assume that, like Clarkson et al., you’d have a support team accompanying you, so feel free to pick anything, no matter how apparently impractical.

My only condition is that like the Grand Tour team, you’d have to cover the 1,300-mile distance in only four days, as they did — and include a trip on a ferry down Lake Kariba, as they did.  One’s normal choice of, say, an F40 Land Cruiser or Series 1 Land Rover would not be ideal, because you’d have to cane it on the tarred roads in order to make the deadline, and Land Cruisers / Rovers are not known for their ability to cane anything except your kidneys as they bounce all over the place.

No;  in the spirit of One For The Road, you have to pick a dream sports car of your youth for your trip.

Feel free to indulge yourselves.

Now:  I’ve closed Comments for this post, because you’ll need time to get to watch the show (which you need to do to get into the spirit of the game).  Next Saturday (Sept 21), I’ll set up a post wherein everyone can state their choice for the trip.

News Roundup

And speaking of getting shafted:


...if you can’t stop him by letting him be assassinated, stop him by fixing the vote.

In Industrial Labor News:


...bad news: production is going to dry up; good news: it’s production of the 737 Max.


…wait;  I thought that everyone wanted these Duracell cars.

Time for some news of The Great Cultural Assimilation Project©:


...where are they getting the money to pay the lawyers?  I think we should be told.


...it’s almost to the point where this is no longer news.

In Global Economic News:


...are we absolutely SURE this guy wasn’t born somewhere in the U.S.?


...LOL just wait till they see their ROI.
#AfricaWinsAgain

From the Department of Education:


...keyword:  Missouri.  Again.  It must be something in the water, there in the Show-Me state.


...keyword:  California.  Of COURSE it was going to be on film.

Still talking about sex:


...this study endorsed by wankers the world over.


...newsflash:  famous rock musicians are renowned for their monogamous behavior.


...I can actually see her point.
#Talaighlagh

And in mercifully-link-free 

   

And sauntering down :


...of course, the old girl needs those tight clothes to keep the Jello-bits from wobbling around.

And still on the same old bint:


...wait, what?  Let’s see the correction:


...okay, that’s a little better.

And on that bit of Fake News, we end this roundup.

Fresh Bastardy

Reader CDM sent me some fresh news about the World’s Absolutely Worst Airline (that would be Australia’s Qantas).  The story’s too long and complicated for me to summarize properly, but the executive conclusion is that Qantarse fucked up their prices on First Class tickets;  then when they discovered the oopsie, offered the affected passengers a pretty good deal in compensation, but never followed through and instead ended  up charging one family over a hundred grand (!) for the privilege of flying Business Class — i.e. charging them full First prices for Business tickets.

Of course, this being Qantas, nobody in charge knew what the fuck was going on and they pretty much made it all up as they went along — with the predictable goat rodeo outcomes that we have come to expect from the World’s Absolutely Worst Airline.

I of course will never be in the same situation, having sworn a blood oath never to fly on Qantas, ever (background stories here, here and here for new Readers or Older Readers Who May Have Forgotten.  Oh, and here’s my response to one of their risible marketing efforts).  Not even if the only choice is flying Qantas or swimming over.

Qantarse delenda est.