Sunday, 15 May 2016


I’m in a European super state.

Every citizen required to debate.

Killing Joke, European Super State


Sitting here in my safe European home.

The Clash, Safe European Home


In a week which has seen British Prime Minister David Cameron warn that a referendum vote to leave the EU would likely usher in the Third World War, and a German foreign minister – we’re allies now, you know – has warned that a so-called ‘Brexit’ would so rile the Irish Republican Army that they would immediately set to work on Troubles 2.0, anyone with a vested interest in regaining British sovereignty would be forgiven for hoping that a mature response would be forthcoming from their co-conspirators. They will not be disappointed.

Brexit the Movie is crowd-funded, government money being unavailable for double-plus ungoodthink although the usual trough of tax-geld is available for Cameron’s ‘Conservatives’ to bombard ever home in Brtain with junk-mail propaganda. Junkaganda, perhaps. What it posits, admittedly crudely reduced here, is whether a complete loss of sovereignty is worth a handful of brightly coloured beads in the form of reduced mobile phone charges and conformity of duvet filling.

Presented by the amiable and bemused Martin Durkin, the film runs at around 70 minutes and is so convincing that it makes the forthcoming referendum not one concerning Britain’s continued membership of the EU, but a plebiscite on just how stupid, credulous and distracted by the baubles of consumerism the British really are.

The talking heads are a great and tousled rogues gallery. Janet Daley, Daniel Hannan, Melanie Phillips, James Delingpole, Kate Hoey, Nigel Farage and Kelvin McKenzie – a star turn here – are among the on-screen heretics. The film itself attacks the concept of the EU at every weak point in that leviathan’s armour.

The sheer unaccountability of the EU runs through the narrative like a thread. As is well known, no one votes for the Presidency or senior positions in the EU. Very few people know who their MEP is. Scarcely anyone recognises the likes of Juncker, Schulz and van Rompuy. And this is just how the EU gauleiters want it. They have absolutely no interest in making the EU more open and engaged in some semblance of a democratic project. I forget who says in the film that the EU is not undemocratic, but anti-democratic.

The vast and largely unnecessary bureaucracy of the EU, and its concomitant technocratic class, is dissected with a very sharp tool. You have the feeling that you have wandered from the dark forest of elite lies into a bright clearing of facts. The graphics are light and pleasing, Terry Gilliam-like, without being smartarse and irritating.

The sheer number of laws emanating from Brussels is incomprehensible. These laws will, of course, increasingly apply to the regulation of people, speech and thought as Europe’s crisis approaches, but for now a guided tour through the regulations of the inanimate world is testament to one of the Left’s most powerful and pernicious tools; complication.

If you want to control a system of operations from a position of power within that system, you must make it increasingly more difficult for those over whom you have power to operate. You do this by over-complicating every stage of process, by increasing the amount of time operatives spend on pointless tasks of taxonomy and specification, and by always requiring slightly more information from operatives than they can actually competently process. This, incidentally, is not just a disease of the political elites; it also infects modern management, even in the private sector.

The way the EU achieves complication is the sheer bloom of its regulatory powers. I’m sure you aware of the fairly recent meme concerning the lengths of various historical documents;

Pythagoras’ theory    24 words

Lord’s Prayer    66 words

Archimedes’ principle    67 words

Ten Commandments    179 words

Gettysburg Address    267 words

US Declaration of Independence    1,321 words

Magna Carta (including signatures)    3,856 words

EU regulations on sale and trade of vegetables    Around 36,784 words

(Note: this figure was originally claimed to refer just to cabbages, and the whole meme was doubted by, naturally, Europhiles at the BBC. The above is the latest refinement of the figures I could find.)

There is a pleasing sequence which follows Durkin from rising and through his day, graphically showing the regulatory rules attached to each object he touches or passes. I will just say that 118 such rules apply to shampoo, and we will shake our heads and pass on.

Trade and trading regulation also take a large but fully justified portion of the film. It is a myth that companies will cease to trade with Britain if the No vote triumphs; companies trade with companies, not countries. The decimation of the British fishing industry is as appalling as anything that happened to the miners, but I must have missed the Lefties marching for that cause. The choking triumvirate of tariffs, quotas and complex regulation (see above) are exposed, and the beneficial effects of regulation of small business for big business reinforces the fact that the EU is a crony-capitalistic gentleman’s club sadly lacking in gentlemen.

Regulation, it transpires, took after the First World War and, when the consequences of the Second World War – German economic expansionism – are thought through, the uncomfortable notion begins to form that both wars were an essential part of the plan for a European superstate.

The club aspect of the EU has always been a disgusting spectacle, and its reputation takes another dive here. I had no idea there was a luxury shopping mall for EU staff only, like the shops for Party members only under Stalin. It has a manicurist. Employees have a list of ‘company’ benefits that would make any corporate trougher in Britain green with envy. 10,000 EU employees earn more than the British Prime Minister.

And this club is fully supported by big business, charities, NGO’s, arts bodies, and a long tail of other grubbers and pinchers. They produce what one of the contributors calles a “chorus of noise.” Like the British public sector, the EU is a wealth transfer scheme intended to divert financial capital away from the productive classes to the non-productive classes, the ‘make-works’ anyone familiar with – and honest about – the British public services will attest to.

Perhaps, if a gentleman’s club is not an appropriate comparison for the EU, an ex-serviceman’s club might be more appropriate, provided that we make the allowance that no genuine service has ever been performed to gain entry. Nick Clegg is a perfect example of a future EU mandarin. An almost wholly talentless, conniving, mendacious piece of walking malware, Clegg couldn’t have cared less about losing his place in government. He knows what is coming anyway, and wouldn’t want to be around when the twister hits. And he won’t be. He’ll be in the adult Disneyland that is the EU.

Although Brexit is a very clear, very wholesome film, it does have its faults. It skirts entirely around The Muslim Question. It fails to mention the well-known fact that no reputable financial body has been able – or prepared – to sign off the EU’s accounts for something like 17 years. Whenever nationalism is mentioned, the phrase ‘far Right’ is right there at its elbow like a butler, and the inevitable stock footage of skinheads with red flags bearing some kind of swastika-like emblem, or young Scandinavian men with burning torches in a forest at night, is shown as predictably as night follows day.

But these are trifles. The overall message I took from the film confirms that the fault-line of the EU runs through something I am fascinated by; political technocracy. There is much mention in Brexit of the concept that the EU is built on the notion of a superior intellectual class who are the people best entrusted with the protection and improvement of the masses, who would otherwise fail despite themselves. Ferociously intelligent and peerlessly capable, these administrative Ubermensch have it within their gift to see the solutions to problems the existence of which the hoi polloi are barely aware. Again, this chimes with modern Western management practice.

I think of the technocrats as a family. They even have a name, a double-barrelled name to emphasise their aristocratic nature. They are the Dunning-Krugers. The Dunning-Kruger effect is a psychological disorder. It is not mentioned in the psychologist’s Bible, DSM V, but it’s alleged indicators make fascinating reading when one is observing the technocratic political elites;

‘The central argument of the Dunning-Kruger Effect – named after David Dunning and Justin Kruger of Cornell University – is that incompetent people don’t know enough to know what they don’t know. Consequently, they are more likely to over-estimate their own competence.’ (Zawn Villines,

Yes, the Dunning-Krugers are a family, alright. And they are not Orwell’s family with the wrong members in control. They are the wrong family.

Of course you should watch Brexit. You ought to watch any intelligent and communicative information pertaining to the greatest political choice – if you are British – that you will ever make. Personally, I believe that whatever happens to the UK in terms of the EU, Europe can’t get out of what’s coming, and neither can the UK. They hang together or separately, it makes no difference. Also, I’ve always wanted a united Europe. More, a Guillaume Faye-esque Eurosiberia stretching from Vladivistok to Shannon which would be ideal to fight back against The United States of America, whose revolting culture has prepared Europe for the slaughter about to be executed by the halal knives of our new Islamic arrivistes. I just don’t want an EU run by technocrats, populated by Muslims, and scared of free speech and concepts other than those within their playbook. Vote whichever you want to. But recognise that at least Brexit the Movie treats the viewer as though they were an adult and not a special-needs child.




  1. Whenever I sit here in Australia and marvel at our own stupidities, it always makes me feel better when I think of you poor buggers in the EU.

  2. Whenever I sit here in Australia and marvel at our own stupidities, it always makes me feel better when I think of you poor buggers in the EU.

  3. Sorry about the double up but I am just starting out on this kind of thing. Think of it as emphasis!