Cutler Taylor Posts

The British writer Paul Weston, whose work has appeared frequently at Gates of Vienna, sent us this letter today and asked us to publish it.

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An Open Letter to Europeans
by Paul Weston

It had to happen. It was just a matter of when. Writers on sites such as Gates of Vienna have spent years detailing the totalitarian impulses of the European Union and the associated apparatchiks riding on their coat tails.

And now it is out in the open. A peaceful democratic protest, organised by people with no trace of historically violent behaviour, is banned because the Mayor of Brussels, a Mr Freddy Thielemans, believes he cannot guarantee the safety of the public, and perhaps more pertinently, does not wish to upset the delicate sensibilities of Brussels’s large resident Muslim community.

What a sense of relief! Those hours spent researching, reading and writing up on the European Union and it’s dastardly plans for its “community” of citizens were not in vain. No matter how right we may have thought we were, there was always that nagging doubt in the back of one’s mind that perhaps it was all too fantastical to be true; is it really possible that white Western European leaders (unelected, but surely that too could not be true, after all we live in a democracy, do we not?) were intent on betraying and sacrificing their own people, all half a billion of them, in their pursuit of power and a seat at the never ending trough of financial swill?

But now the face of Europe’s totalitarian New Order has exposed itself in all of its slippery, devious, treacherous, lying, naked ambition. If they are prepared to deny free speech and freedom to demonstrate, then what else will they deny us? Could those scarcely believable tales, spun across the “right wing” web sites, making outrageous claims that the EU wanted to incorporate old Christian Europe into a new Islamic entity called Eurabia possibly be true?

And if that is the case, what of the threat of arrest by Europol, (whose headquarters is rather fittingly the ex-Gestapo headquarters) followed by transportation and trial before Eurojust, with both organisations taking precedence over and above the judicial and police departments of national countries? Can it really be the case that such an arrest can take place for mere criticism of an EU institution, a criticism subsequently identified as a criminal act of xenophobic hatred?
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These must just be rumours; it is too Orwellian, too Big Brotherish to possibly be true. But these plans are already in the EU pipeline, waiting for the day to come, and come it will before the next two years are out, after which the EU will have total control of its subject peoples. No more elections, no more sovereignty, no nation states, no freedom, just an imminent minority status of jizyah-paying Dhimmitude.

Will you be able to leave the EU? I doubt it. A gigantic experiment in “social justice” coupled with an ageing population will require an ever-increasing tax burden on its working population. If you think you will be able to jump ship and leg it to Australia then think again, buddy boy; without the taxpayer the EU will implode. They need your tax euros, and you ain’t going nowhere.

As is often the case in history, world-changing events spring from nowhere. If the mayor of Brussels had given his approval to the 11th September demonstration, it is likely that a few thousand would have turned up, waved a few flags and gone home again. The media would have ignored it and the EU would continue on its merry way to full totalitarian rule.

But now the gloves are off. By showing his totalitarian hand before the EU has total power, mayor Thielemans has allowed us a vision of our future, and that vision is of jackboots, flags, gulags, servitude, secret police, religious police, and “mental institutions” for those not toeing the political/religious line.

We may be unable to stop the EU doing anything it wishes to do in a couple of years time — the internet will be blocked, dissidents imprisoned and telephones tapped — but we can do something about it now.

And that something is to be in Brussels on Sep 11th. This may be your one and only chance to make an impression on our EU masters before they make your protest impossible.

By outlawing a democratic demonstration, mayor Thielemans has laid down a marker that will be studied closely by the Brussels politicians. He has slapped our face with his glove, issued a challenge, fired the FIRST shot in a new war. If you run away and hide after the opening salvo then we are finished as a people, a culture, a race and a civilisation.

Don’t let Thielemans and his EU cronies’ notch up a victory after just one act of aggression. Do your duty. Book that ticket for Brussels. In years to come we may well look back and note that 10th August 2007 saw the beginnings of resistance or the beginning of the end.

I’m blessed with a large and loving family. And one of them is dying.

Amazing that I feel so close to them, considering I was raised in Tampa and most of my relatives are located in New York and Pennsylvania. I credit my mom, who taught us to revere family and cherish our personal history. So when we’d gather during holidays or vacations, I’d usually sit at the table with grownups and listen - no, *memorize* - all the stories.

One day maybe I’ll write them down so future generations can smile and say, “Wow, that’s where I get it from!”

Learned a lot from such stories. Like how to grow old with grace, dignity, and humor.

Especially humor.

Nana and two of her sisters, Alice and Marie, suffered from macular degeneration. We’d call them the Three Blind Mice. Fiercely independent, such a disease, crippling to some, barely registered. In their seventies, Nana, Marie, and Alice got along with special glasses and learned how to fold money and tell time in different ways so that they’d be able to come and go as they pleased. Hardly needed help at all.

Sometimes Nana would surprise the hell out of me by finding one of my lost earrings or a necklace in the carpet, leading to laughter and accusations that she was faking the whole “going blind” nonsense.

Once, Nana and Marie were in Florida, visiting us at the same time. Marie’s son Tommy took them on a drive to Bradenton and The Golden Girls wanted to stop and get something to eat. Tommy pulled into a parking lot and said,

“Here we are, ladies. Go and get a table while I park the car.”

They walked inside, peering around for a hostess or waiter and finding only Twinkies instead.

Tommy had pulled into a gas station.

They laughed at themselves and Tommy for being “so bold.”

Explains a lot about my family. Explains a lot about me.

And now Aunt Marie, Nana’s last surviving sibling, is fading fast. My cousins - her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren - are with her every moment.

She is never alone.

She is surrounded by love.

I called her yesterday and Tommy warned she might be confused.

“Do you want to talk to Katie?” he asked.

“Katie,” she said, unsure, and my heart stopped for a second.

(long pause)

“Do you mean, Catherine Ann?” she asked.

Yes, older relatives continue to call me by my full name - the name my mother gave me at birth. The name I used to roll my eyes at as a kid. Sounded too old-fashioned.

Now I love it. And so I melted with a flood of memories as she took the phone.

Those memories are going to come out sooner or later.

Because although I will lose beloved members of my family, I will not lose our stories. Or the lessons they taught me.

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