Hi everyone!
Here is an interesting article that was sent to me by a friend written by the infamous Taki concernig a few world issues but more importantly the compensation that he found to be a less than adequate amount given to The Royal Family of Greece.
What happened to honesty?
Taki
New York
December 14, 2002
My friend Tom Fleming, editor-in-chief of Chronicles, and a polymath who doesn’t tolerate fools or knaves, recently wrote that when he’s described as a journalist, he takes it as an insult. ‘Journalists are to writers what kept women are to wives ...’ The American version of Paul Johnson went on to say that even the old standards of mercenary journalism have collapsed. ‘Most journalists no longer even pretend to follow the news. All that matters to them is their celebrity status on TV.’ Egotism, rudeness, ignorance and total dishonesty make for a depressing spectacle, and nothing depresses more than today’s television, on both sides of the ocean. Then there’s politics, as practiced by today’s politicians. ‘He never told the truth when a lie would serve,’ was the great Douglas MacArthur’s judgment on FDR, and the same can now be applied to virtually the entire world of politics and journalism. Bill Clinton and Tony Blair are, of course, the masters of the direct lie, able to look straight into the camera and tell incredible whoppers with a sincerity that would make Mother Teresa blush.
What a depressing thought at Christmas-time. I don’t watch television except for sport and the golden oldies, but at times I happen to channel-surf and run across a comb-over clown like William Kristol —always extolling the fairness of shooting Palestinian stone-throwing teenagers with armour-piercing missiles — or a loud-mouth like Chris Matthews beating the war drum. Kristol wears make-up à la Mae West, but it does very little for him. My spies tell me he also suffers from terrible halitosis. Where do the networks find these low-lifes? Once upon a time I used to listen to the news and more or less believed the soothing voices of the speakers. No longer. Too many channels have diluted the talent, and now it’s almost freak time. A disgusting-looking man like Alan Dershowitz (O.J. Simpson’s mouthpiece and saviour) is on almost every night, discharging hot air, humbug and hyperbole, and no one as yet has taken out a fatwa against him and the clowns who invite him on the air. And speaking of the latter, I just read a marvellous book by Michael Beschloss called The Conquerors. The book is built almost entirely around the conversations of high-up American officials trying to decide what to do with Germany. Roosevelt’s close friend and secretary of the treasury Henry Morgenthau wanted revenge. He wished to see Germany, one of Europe’s greatest countries, stripped of its industries and turned into ‘something like the used-up areas of Nevada deserts where only ghost towns, rusting machinery and abandoned mines remain’. Morgenthau and his ilk were following Stalin’s demands for unconditional surrender, a catastrophic decision accepted by Churchill and Roosevelt, one that made Germans fight to the last. Millions died needlessly but, thank God, Morgenthau’s plans were not followed by Truman. When FDR warned Morgenthau that Europe might starve if it could no longer buy German-made farm machinery, Morgenthau responded, ‘So what?’.
Nice guy that Morgi sonofabitch. Almost as nice as the aforementioned Alan Dershowitz, whom the great Paul Gottfried writing in the American Conservative recently took to task: ‘Always around to enlighten us, Dershowitz explains in his autobiography Chutzpah that millions of Poles were selectively murdered but in no way should be viewed as victims of genocide.’ In other words, mostly Catholic Poles don’t have the same propagandistic value as, say, Jewish victims. And speaking of victims, is there a bigger one than King Constantine of Greece? Seventeen hypocritical lawyers posing as fair-minded people and judging King Constantine’s case against the kleptocratic Greek republic found for the King — there was no alternative, the Greek state having stolen his property — but ordered the kleptocracy to pay something less than ten cents on the dollar. If this European Court of Human Rights is an omen of things to come, I’m off to Baghdad. Eighteen thousand acres of valuable land bought by the King’s grandfather and great-grandfather with private funds, and unlawfully seized by the Greek government, are worth closer to £350 million than the lousy £9 million issued by the judges in Strasbourg. Let’s not kid ourselves.
Strasbourg judges are not going to go against Greek socialists. Both are made of the same scum. The Greeks have been maligning the King non-stop since he was the first to rise up against the military dictatorship in 1967, an act for which he lost his throne. The Greek royal family will never be forgiven for having fought the communist guerrillas and having kept Greece on the side of the West. King Constantine was born in Greece, and is as Greek as any of those crooked dwarfs now running the place. It is an outrage and a warning to any of us who might trust European justice in future. To make matters worse, the King gave the money to a Greek charity, surely to be skimmed off by the Greeks.
To all of you Spectator readers, the happiest of Christmases, and a very lousy 25 December to the Greek crooks and to the Pontius Pilates of Strasbourg.
Link:
http://www.spectator.co.uk/article.php3?ta...2-12-14&id=2618
Whether he refers to himself as King or Emperor shouldn't really matter, now should it 
