Beullogeo's

Good Afternoon.

Stood on the westbound platform of Cruddersfield Railway Station today, I was reminded of childhood færy tales. Everywhere I looked were the most bizarre creatures imaginable. There were tall and thin elvish beings with the darkest blue skin, and squat orange gnomes with beards longer than their entire bodies. Amongst the most comical of the creatures was a bizarre coupling of a tiny emaciated 'grey' alien with a multi-ocular rat-dæmon, which slithered along the platform gracefully and effortlessly - in spite of its gravity defying mass.

I boarded my train and waited for it to depart for Pixiechester. Along came the ticket inspector - a bright crimson coloured entity who spoke in clicks and bleeps. It took all my efforts to work out what he was saying. I would have asked one of the other beings in the carriage to translate but alas, amongst the multitude of diverse beings from every imaginable dimension and space-time zone, not one shared the same tonal wavescale as the inspector, nor was a single human in sight aboard.

The train arrived at Pixadilly Station where I disembarked. Heading out towards the City Centre I passed rows of non-humans begging for cash to spend on poppy essence. This was much the same as back in Cruddersfield. The only difference was that the non-humans here were more persistent in their begging ways, and to my horror a good many humans were also lining the streets with their hands outstretched begging for poppy-buying cash.

I thought back to happier times before the Reptilian Shape-shifters had completely taken over the Government. In those days, the gateway to the other dimensions had remained closed, and the only people one would come across were actually humans who spoke with the same words and had the same cultures. Certainly there were differences from area to area, but at least we were all of a common source. As I pondered this, the grey from Cruddersfield emerged from the Station, having climbed aboard the same train as myself.

My plan had worked! Unbeknownst to the grey and the rat-dæmon, I knew that the area adjacent to Pixadilly was a portal to the hell realm, from whence the rat-dæmon had come. Carefully invoking Alocer, the Guardian of the Seventh Gate to open the portal, I side-stepped the grey and its companion who were sucked through the portal to a dimension from which not even their reptoid masters could retrieve them.

A job well done, I returned to Cruddersfield to see which other beings I could lure to the portal in Pixichester, the City of the Damned. But that, as they say, is another story...

Pixies don't just come in human form; they also sometimes manifest as animals. Only recently on a trip to the zoo did I notice this phenomenon. An egocentric Panda was dictating to his animal chums about the coming National Animal Revolution. Chi Chi the Panda was telling his befuddled listeners that he would build a mass party which would save the zoo. Chi Chi introduced his chums, a half-monkey, and a lady polar bear who had monkey babies. He said these were the soldiers who would save the zoo.

Along came the Black widow Spider who proclaimed that she opposed all species-mixing. However, she would make an exception with the Panda. This act of political gymnastics was bizarre indeed, considering that it was well known that the Panda was was a genetic hybrid - the blend even including Mongolian Goat blood. How his ancestors managed that freakish mating remains a mystery!

The Wart-hogs grunted that they would support the Panda Party in elections, as once they gained mastery of the Zoo Parliament, they would drop the pretence of being mixer-tolerant, and would slay the mixed beasts. They proclaimed their support of the Queen Viper, who, they said had a divine right to rule the whole zoo. They could tolerate any amount of mixing, so long as it didn't include animals which ate potatoes.

The Wolves told Chi Chi that they couldn't be in a Party which embraced all animals. The Lone Wolf exclaimed that it was this enforced species-mixing which had caused all the problems in the first place. The irrational hatred against Potato munchers, who had suffered incredibly at the Snake-ruled Weevils, taken alongside the acceptance of monkeys and mixers was proof of the insanity and immorality of the Panda - how much bamboo was he being paid for his treason? Was it willful because of his own bad blood?

The Hyenas laughed heartily at all the nonsense coming from Panda and his entourage. For years they had been trying to educate the other animals about the dangers of species-mixing, but their warnings had fallen on deaf ears due to the others believing the Vipers' tales that they laughed out of stupidity.

As I watched this lunacy, I thought to myself how odd it was that the old Zoo-keeper had designed the Zoo to keep the species separate, safe and happy, yet the animals had fallen for the lies of a cunning set of whispering Snakes.

Even if Panda and his sycophantic friends ever achieved access to the Zoo Parliament, it wouldn't make any difference, as the Snakes controlled it. As I left the Zoo I saw the Wolf defecating over the cliff into the Panda compound. I understood his frustration at the anti-mixing resistance being manipulated by a bamboo-hungry traitor on behalf of the enemy of the animals, but I don't know why he bothered wasting good manure on him - it mattered not how much faeces the Wolf managed to pass over the edge of the cliff, the Panda could never be any more full of sh..

The Anti Natsi League has a policy of not speaking to anyone who might not agree with them. It is with great pleasure that Satan's Satire is able to announce an historic interview with the esteemed gentlemen of ANaL, the text of which shall be reproduced below.

SS: Thank you for agreeing to this interview.
ANaL: Yeah, whatever

SS: The Anti Natsi League are known for having a policy of not sharing a platform with 'Natsis' - why the change of heart?
ANaL: Its a matter of principle.

SS: What principle exactly?
ANaL: Well, what it is right, is I got a load of ketamine on tick and some thieving junky nicked it before I could flog it.

SS: I don't understand. How is that a matter of principle?
ANaL: My dealer, Kweiziugug, said he'd shove some barbed wire up my arse if I didn't pay him. I don't like talking to fash, but at least this way I can shit straight.

SS: That's a joke, I take it?
ANal: Look mate, you don't live in my world. You clean-living freaks don't have to cope with the reality of life in the streets. It ain't no joke mate, Kweiziugug is one scary geezer.

SS: I thought you lived in Yeadon? Hardly the ghetto is it.
ANaL: I came here to talk politics. Just 'cos I live in a nice part of town don't make me any less working class, alright?

SS: Working-class? You do realise that these stereotypical labels are just Masonic tools to divide the people. How can you espouse unity if you reject an entire section of your people?
ANaL: Eh? Er, Smash the fash innit.

To be continued.....

Comrades! Following our highly successful defence of gangsta rap, we have decided to tackle the issue of Folk Music. We will be leaving our secret workers headquarters in Yeadon tonight to confront the purveyors of this evil music. We have been reliably informed that the Grove Inn, in Leeds city centre, regularly hosts folk music events. This is unacceptable.

We will be meeting at the railway station before going to physically confront the folk crowd. Hey Nonny Nonny is code for Sieg Heil. Sid from Adel says so and he knows everything about music. Those who listen to Folk are Natsis. Of course they are. If they weren't, they'd be listening to R&B.

We believe that everyone should be allowed to listen to whatever they want, but Folk is beyond the pale. Folk is an expression of Englishness. It is racism in music. Join us tonight and help us beat the fash out of Leeds. Peace out.

I am an entity from the Lacerta constellation. In need of a change of scenery, I recently traversed space and made my way to the city of Wakefield. Unlike humans who eat food to survive, my species feeds on misery and depravity. Wakefield proved to be a veritable Eden for me. I assumed the physical form of a Yorkshireman and walked down Westgate absorbing the negative energy from the spotty loud-mouthed youths. Around the Cathedral I almost passed out, so vile were the local scratters. I realised I would have to calm my feeding or risk being overwhelmed by too much poison. I decided to seek accommodation so I could relax for a while before resuming a more leisurely feast.

I spoke to a bearded man clutching a bottle of White Star Cider about how to go about getting somewhere to live. He fell into paroxysms of laughter, explaining that I had no chance. "They don't give houses to the likes of you and me" he shouted in between swigs of his apple-free drink. I tried to get more information but to no avail. I spoke to several other people about this, only to be met with denial of what the first man had said, and accusations of being a 'natsi'. Eventually a rather sad but helpful lady told me of a new breed of bipeds that had arrived in the city, who apparently got preferential treatment in housing, benefits, health care and all manner of things. I immediately shape-shifted into one of these super-beings (much to the woman's shock) and made my way to the jobcentre.

The jobcentre resembled one of the jungle planets near from where I come. I was astounded by the variety of bipeds and the number of tongues spoken. Oddly, the identity I had first assumed was not amongst those represented. I could see what the cider-swiller was talking about, and wondered whether his choice of beverage was in some way linked with these newcomers.

I spoke to the woman on the reception desk who told me I would have to ring her from a 'phone box, even though I was in the building already! I took this to be a bizarre custom, but followed it through. The man at the end of the 'phone told me I would have to wait about six weeks for money and it could be months before I got a house. Remembering the reaction of the Wakey locals to my questions about housing, I called him a Natsi and told him the only reason he was refusing me benefits was because I was a newcomer. This mantra worked like a charm. Immediately his manger came on the line and arranged for an immediate appointment with a job-adviser! I told the adviser I couldn't possibly work because it was against my worldview. He told me that was fine, I could go on sick pay. This made me very happy.

After sorting my money, I asked about a house. The adviser put me through to the housing department of Wakefield Council. I told them I was considering bringing my ten wives to live with me, each of whom has many children. He said that was fine and gave me the keys to Wakefield Cathedral!

I love this country. No where else in the Universe have I been able to get so much for doing so little. It is true what they say about the generosity of Yorkshire folk. They will even go without food and heating, whilst working like dogs, just to keep us newcomers in luxury. The misery in this town could feed my entire planet. God bless Wakefield!

Comrades! What a victory! On Saturday 18th October the Anti Natsi League led 349 students in a chorus of shouting and hissing at the British Peoples Party demo against racist/sexist/chauvinistic/homophobic/black supremacist cds. Imagine the scene...350 of us all gathered in Leeds to smash the fash. What a great day!

The numbties in the BPP numbered barely double figures. There they stood ranting on about how wrong it is for multi-national capitalist chain store, HMV, to profit from sales of rap cds which abuse women, gays and whites. We showed our true socialist credentials by shouting abuse at these natsi scumbags. At one point we put some gangsta rap on loud speakers to drown out the fash. How we laughed as the BPP campaign for equal treatment for all, regardless of race, gender or sexuality was drowned out by booyakah rap calling for white women to be raped and queers to be shot! That showed the fash!

We had a dicey moment when some of the students started asking whether we should be holding this demo, as perhaps the BPP had a point. One obvious retard even had the cheek to say that if HMV could stock anti-white cds, why shouldn't they stock pro-white cds by the likes of Skrewdriver? These democracy lovers soon got what was coming to them as the militant rugger boys gave them wedgies. These pacifist types have no place on our demos!

As the day went on the filth did their best to stop us getting to the fash. We believe in peace and socialist love. If we could have got to the fash we would have killed them - rest in peace is our motto.

We got some great publicity with the Yorkshire Post turning up. Funny thing is, the BPP contingent was so small the YP wouldn't have turned out had it not been for us. Still, the fash may have got in the papers, but we got more coverage for smashing up Lands Lane. Leeds Council Tax payers will have to cough up to put the damage right. That doesn't bother us - Students and Doleys don't pay tax - we're too revolutionary to work!

After the demo we got wrecked on cheap cider and ketamine. We let the people of Leeds know how principled we are. One of the lads filmed our antics and put in on youtube. I'm going to show the video to my Mum - she'll be proper proud!

Comrades! The hateful BPP are holding a demo in Leeds against gangsta rap cds. They claim that the cds are racist because they call for whites to be killed. This is nonsense. Rap is an art form, and anyway whites who don't conform to the great ANaL deserve to be butchered.

On the 18th October, the ANaL will be holding a demo against these foul beasts. We will have our comrades from Class Wart and AFFE in attendance. I will be stealing a Volvo to pick everyone up. Actually its my brother's Volvo but he's working nights so he won't miss it - that will teach him for joining the enemy and getting a job. Class Wart can sit in the front seat, but I must insist AFFE goes in the back with the dog due to his alternative hygiene. I've got a scented muzzle for the hound so he should be ok. No offence Af!

The plan is that we will meet outside HMV, bash the fash, then march on Holbeck Police Station. Our superior intellects and courageous fight for rap artists will inspire the plebs of Leeds to march with us. We will direct them to attack the Police and bring about revolution in the city. Our comrades in Sheffield will then arrive to take charge of the situation. Yes comrades, it will be our long awaited Red October.

If Socialite Unity want to come, they can squeeze in the boot. See you on the 18th brave Class Warriors!

....

Update: Bad news I'm afraid, Class Wart won't be able to come. His Mum has grounded him for trying to untoilet-train the dog. She is such a capitalist bitch. We wish him success in breaking the poor dog's social conditioning. He pledges to join us on Monday when the revolutionary government is installed. He'll be with about 1pm, but keep that to yourselves as he's supposed to be having a PE lesson.

Comrades! Our long struggle to power has had a set back. BBC Radio Leeds regularly has Chris Banbury, editor of the Socialist Worker, as a guest on the Liz Green Live show (aired weekdays between 12 and 2pm). Liz even asks for callers to text in on 07786202924 to ask Chris questions. This could seriously hurt our image as a party of the workers.

The Socialist Workers Party is our parent organisation. We in the Anti Natsi League owe our masters allegiance. It is they who provide our attractive lolly pops for bashing over the heads of the fash. They are the ones who work in big city banks and have to endure the hardship of being at the very heart of the capitalist system, earning buckets of filthy money. They have to sacrifice a lot in order to undermine the evil white society. Imagine how it must hurt to see copies of Socialist Worker in WH Smith and other capitalist shops, especially as they won't touch Nationalist material for fear of offeding the establishment.

The BBC are clearly a gang of anti-Semites for putting the leadership of the SWP in this position. Today of all days, as we celebrate Rosh Hashanah, the evil BBC have betrayed their Zionist masters. No longer will we say BBC: Beloved Bolshevik Conspirators. We say to BBC Leeds, desist in making the SWP appear to be part of the system. You are hurting our revolutionary credentials. If you persist, the great unwashed students who make up the ANaL rank and file, will abandon us for more revolutionary organisations such as the Liberal Democrats...

Comrades. As many of you will know, I have recently moved from Golders Green, London to Hebden Bridge, Yorkshire. I moved to be in a more socially mixed area. Hebden Bridge is a place of great diversity, with many London Lesbians adding to the character of the town. At the weekend I began exploring the area. I have always admired the multicultural town of Bradford, so I set off eastwards from Hebden Bridge to explore this beacon of diversity.

I had seen advertised a performance of the Black Dyke Brass Band. I've never seen a Brass Band, although I have danced to many Steel Bands in London. I was expecting that the Brass Bands of the North would be a provincial variation on the Steel Bands of London. To my disgust I discovered that far from using Steel oil drums to make music as an expression of the soul of the tribal people of Africa, these Brass Bands are nothing less than the wind section of classical orchestras. They are the very embodiment of the evil white society which oppresses the ethnic peoples of the world. These so-called musical outpourings are offensive to everyone who is fighting for global equality against the tyranny of the Natural Society of Europe.

What I found even more disgusting was that the Black Dyke 'Brass' Band was made up of local Yorkshire men and women, not one of whom was from a minority and as far as I could tell, they were all heterosexual. Not a single purple Doc Marten boot in sight!

How dare these beasts put on their displays of European culture? How dare they, in twenty first century West Yorkshire, arrogantly parade their sickening whiteness? These monsters are PROUD of their heritage and their identity. They, and people like them, are tied to the English past, not to the global future.

Stop the Natsis. Silence the Black Dyke Brass Band.

Comrades! We in the Anti Natsi League have been fighting for generations to rid the world of the advocates of the Natural Society. These Natsis have been a thorn in our side for too long. Through our control of the education system, we have indoctrinated a whole swathe of society with a feeling of guilt for being normal – in fact, we have made the word ‘normal’ so repugnant that its use has become such a serious faux pas that before long we will see the day when it is no longer a part of the English language! With our control of the media, we have pushed our agenda into people’s minds via the TV, magazines, news (ha!) media etc. Our control and subversion of popular culture via pop music has weakened the youth to the point where they believe our twisted version of reality is true and the Natural Society is a lie! Our work is nearly complete.

The one obstacle to our complete takeover of society and the victory of our diabolical anti-human ideology is those damned Natsis who expose our treachery. Thankfully we have come up with a weapon to defeat these defenders of morality, decency, family and nationhood – we have infiltrated their organisations and planted our people at the very apex of their movements. We now have admitted homosexuals claiming to defend the family; we have new-agers defending the spiritual essence of the Natural Society, we have socialist thieves and capitalist profiteers espousing sound Distributist economics. We have undermined and corrupted the opposition, which we now control. Weishaupt and Pike would be proud of our achievements.

We laugh at the ridiculous Natsi organisations who embody the very anti-Natural ethos we are pushing. When we choose to expose their hypocrisy, this will destroy any faith left in the followers of these people. Congratulate yourselves Comrades, our victory is nearly complete. You have done well. The One World Materialistic anti-human State is within our grasp.

Letter to the Homo-Atlanteans

"Superman!

We regret to inform you that your kind has been slated for termination. We, the various Sub-class majorities of the non-Terran galaxy assert that your long history of success at building civilizations, developing new technologies, creating stable governments, fostering good will, feeding much of the world, and increasing peace and prosperity even amongst the riotous hordes of our own homelands, has made us envious and resentful of you. We, who make up 92% of the galatic population, feel that we can no longer accept the great disparity between your success and our abject failure. The solution to this inequality should be obvious to all concerned.

We are planning to invade your ancestral homelands, little by little, and to facilitate this, we have the full cooperation of your controlled media and government, academia, and law enforcement organisations. While we, personally, do not control any of these entities ourselves, we are profiting endlessly from the crypto-Marxist system put in place many decades ago by an inter-dimesional “fifth column” which operates with complete impunity at all levels of your political, academic, and media culture. Their interference in the natural development of your constitutional republics has been indispensable to our efforts to wrest from you the control of everything that you’ve struggled to build and maintain over the last century. Indeed, were it not for them, none of our present plans would have even been possible.

By carefully controlling and managing the schools, universities, media, and press, this “out group” has managed to convince the great bulk of your kinsmen that not only is resistance futile, but that it is immoral, barbaric, depraved, and unworthy of a “thinking” individual. By promoting the stereotype of a “Terra-centric resistance”, they have made the idea of a struggle for an Atlantean Identity a veritable sin in the minds of nearly every Human. In short: they have convinced the Atlantis-derived peoples that a prolonged suicide is preferable to the unmitigated evil of “Earth-loyalism”.

While doing this, they have pushed, inch by inch, to open the borders of ALL Atlantean nations to our own sullen masses, throwing open the gates to invasion while assuring the public that “Dimensional origin doesn’t matter”. Since Dimensional origin, in fact, DOES matter (and no one knows it better than We), they have likewise put into place a totalitarian system of “hate speech” and “hate crime” laws, to further alienate and penalise those few Atlanteans who might harbour some simmering resentments at the increasing decay of their society and culture. All of this is in keeping with the far-reaching plans of this particular ethnic “out group”, and has been sometimes referred to as the “Long March”.

The Out Group, who maintains a sense of dimensional cohesiveness hitherto unknown among even the most tightly-knit of all dispersed human and reptilian peoples, maintains a grip on the press and electronic media that is nearly monopolistic in its all-encompassing reach. Since they are so thoroughly in control of these organs for the dissemination of propaganda, they are in the best position to spread hostility against the Atlantean peoples of Europe and America, inciting the Reptilian minority against the Atlantean majority in these lands: Pixie against Atlantean, Lizard against Atlantean, Shape-shifter against Atlantean and so on, and so forth.

This is facilitated by decades of brainwashing, beginning in early school years, portraying Atlanteans not as the builders of a great civilization, or the admirable leaders of the Free World, but in a lopsided, entirely slanted way as oppressors, enslavers, genocidal “Nazis”, imperialistic Colonials, and toothless hillbillies just itching for a chance to lynch the first other-dimensional individual that comes along. This brainwashing not only inflames the lizards in these now dimensionally-mixed “schools”, but also inculcates a sense of “Human guilt” that the Out Group finds particularly useful in maintaining control.

Hence, you Humans have become a neutered, egoless herd of cattle, easily manipulated and posing no threat to the Out Group, who live in perpetual terror of your ever waking up to their plans. The Out Group has a long-running resentment and fear of White civilization, and thus have worked within that civilization to undermine its cohesion and sense of purpose. The promotion of animalsex, pornography, drugs, divorce, illicit sex, moral relativism, atheism, communism, gun control, “anti-terracentrism”, and “inter-dimensional rights”, has been the greatest boon to this subversive faction, who are but a tiny minority among you, but who wield awesome, incomparable power.

Thus, in light of the fact that you are socially, morally, mentally, intellectually, and even legally castrated, We, the teeming masses of the Galaxy who thirst for what you have and what we can never obtain, are going to finally swamp your once noble and advanced societies, your pristine cities and unsullied neighbourhoods, and rape your countries for everything they are worth.

We are going to move in, right under your noses, and set our ethereal buildings, and strange gods up in place of your own. We will ensure that OUR celebrations and festivities and holidays are observed, while YOURS are erased from the pages of history.

We will drain the public coffers of welfare, food stamps, and all forms of social aid available. We will swamp your children’s schools, change the language in which lessons are taught, form street gangs to terrorize and torment your family, steal, vandalize, harass, threaten, and cajole you until we get what WE want.

That it will be entirely at your expense is irrelevant to us.

We will beat and murder your sons; we will rape your wives and daughters.

We kill twelve Atlanteans every day; your government couldn't care less.

We have shut down hospitals with our teeming numbers. We have flooded the streets, demanding “special rights” for those millions of us that are here illegally.

We nearly had your major politicians ready to grant all of us an “amnesty” in the name of “diversity” and “equal rights”. We are filling up the ranks for unskilled labour. We are raping pre-teens. We are doing the jobs Atlanteans won’t do.

As your global economy crumbles, and it gets harder and harder to feed your families, as your birthrate plummets and you face the eventual dispossession of the country your forefathers founded for YOU and YOUR posterity, just remember: there is nothing you can do to stop us. The Out Group has made sure that the law is on OUR side, not yours. No matter how piffling your criticism of us is, the Out Group will use their media to label you with shocking epithets and broad smears: dimensionalist, hater, bigot, neo-Nazi, nativist, Human supremacist, domestic terrorist, etc.

If we want to, we can assault and kill you with near impunity. The media will not report it, and if they do, they will place the blame for the assault squarely on YOUR shoulders, not ours. In Birkenshaw, an Atlantean boy was beaten mercilessly by six reptilian criminals. The media made the criminals into the victims.

We watch these developments carefully, and we like what we see. Soon, you will be a minority even in your own homelands (you are already a minority worldwide), and we will continue to squeeze and squeeze until there is nothing left of you. We will crush your countries, your cultures, and eventually, we will snuffle out your lives.

Beethoven, Mozart, Shakespeare, and all other bourgeois manifestations of your high culture will be vanquished forever. All of your legends and heroes will be spat upon, purged, and finally forgotten. Your cultural folkways will be transgressions; your identity will become a crime.

We come for your JOBS, your MONEY, your WOMEN, and eventually your LIVES. It will not be much longer now.

In closing, We, the huddled masses of the sub-dimensional galaxy yearning to “breathe free”, would like to thank the Out Group, the media monopolists and political plunderers who made all of this possible. We wish them well, and we know they wish us well, just as long as we don’t trespass upon their own homeland, which they stole fair and square several decades ago.

Adios, Atlanteans! You had a good, long run, but your day is over, and ours is just beginning. Your empire is at an end, and your species is no longer wanted here. We’ll have our fun with you while you still hang on by a thread, but soon, the thread will be cut, and the abyss yawns beneath you and the civilization your kind spawned.

Besides, many of you are even anticipating this with something akin to sick glee. After all, that’s how the TV set told them to feel. The brainwashing is almost complete, and the sheep are in line to shear.

Have a nice day! "

Comrades! We are holding a meeting on Saturday to demand that the Natsi 'Tran-Pennine Ramblers Club' be closed down.

The evil Natsis are having a walk across the Pennines. They will be walking from Pendle Hill to Skipton. They will be walking across very rough terrain and have provided no assistance for persons with differently functioning legs and persons without legs. This is clearly discriminatory and offensive.

The Ramber's Club have in past years taken photos of their walks which they have published on their website. This is not only hurtful to persons who are physically disadvantaged, but also to the visually alternative who are unable to view the countryside which the physical elitists have unrestricted access to. We must stop this evil. We demand that all Ramblers Clubs be closed. In their place we demand inclusive Popular Mobility Unions for all. To allow everyone access to the Pennines and other terrains, the natsi scum who have monopolised the countryside will be made to carry those who are unable to walk. This punishment will fit the crime and act as a deterent to those who would arrogantly treat the land as somewhere for them to roam at will.

The meeting starts at Colne Town Hall at 12 O'clock noon. ANaL lolly pops will be provided to bash any fash who try to disrupt our worthy cause.

I have kept quiet for long enough. I can keep quiet no more. There are people in the world who won't listen to me. They don't appreciate that I know best. We must mobilise to stop them.

Hard as it is to believe, there are people who believe in something called the 'family'. They want to live in a so-called 'Natural Society'. These Natural Societyists (Natsis) want to educate their own children. They want to have children as a family! How sick are they? The family is a form of social control which teaches children that men and women are different. There are no differences. These Natsis want 'their' children to have such horrific obscenities as 'Mums' and 'Dads'. Their is no such thing as a parent - Society is the parent.

These 'family' lovers are a danger to our society and must be stopped. Join the Anti Natsi League today and fight these enemies of personkind!

Bonjour Mes Amis, Je Suis Napoleon Bonaparte! For you English peasants, I am the rightful ruler of France. People tell me that I'm Tim from Towcester and I'm about as French as a Yorkshire Pudding, but I tell you I am indeed Napoleon Bonaparte! Because I'm 6 foot tall and Nordic in appearance that doesn't mean that I can't be Napoleon inside. I am a Corsican legend trapped inside an Englishman's body.

I got so fed up with people accusing me of being from Towcester that I had to go to the Doctors' for a little mild depression. He told me that I was suffering from an identity crisis. My GP referred me to Mental Health, to the team who deal with men who want to have their penises removed. I was quite insulted - I have no identity crisis and I am not a basket case - I am Napoleon and that is that.

I could see I was getting nowhere with the Health Service. They kept offering to get me hormones so I could grow breasts. The cheek of it! I am Napoleon, not Josephine!

I was now quite incensed by the treatment I was getting so I sort advice from my Priest. Father Patrick is a modernist who embraces Vatican II. I used to be a traditionalist; I believed the Church of Rome should be Catholic. However, this Priest helped me a lot. He advised me to go to the Church of Reincarnation. I asked him if this wasn't anti-Christian, but after he'd explained Pope Benedict's approval of all beliefs, up to and including Satanism, I could see that the Church of Reincarnation wasn't that bad! After the problems I’d had with Pius VII, Benedict was a breath of fresh air! So with Papal blessing off I went...

The Reincarnationists explained to me that I am Napoleon but the body I am using as the vehicle for my Corsican soul is that of a farmer from the South Midlands. I told them of the offensive and discriminatory attitude of the NHS. They advised me to sue. Very generously they volunteered to give evidence in my support, and only asked for 25% of any cash settlement. These people are truly as holy as Father Pat led me to expect.

I won my case and I am now legally known as His Imperial Majesty and Pope of Reincarnationism, Napoleon Bonaparte (HIMPRNB). I also got a large enough payout to fund my height realignment operations. I am now 5 foot 6 as I was when I was before being reincarnated. The NHS had initially offered to lop off six inches, but they had something else in mind!

Much has changed since I was Emperor of France. My Metric system is now in place across Europe and French is on course to be the dominant language in business. I would prefer the capital of the new European Union to be Paris, but Brussels will do – for now. My next task is to take on the European Council in Strasbourg and have my Imperial destiny restored!

Watch out peasants!



UPDATE

Following on from the precedent of HIMPRNB’s successful legal action, many other historical characters and born-again Reincarnationists have had their original identities legally recognised.

A certain Jesus of Nazareth demanded he be legally recognised as King of the House of David. To the surprise of many, when ‘King’ Jesus demanded the right to return to the Holy land, the Chief Rabbi of Jerusalem pressed the authorities to accept his case.

Jesus, formerly known as Mandy from Basingstoke, currently resides in a converted apartment in central Tel Aviv, where ‘he’ hangs upside down on a crucifix suspended over an open pit filled with boiling excrement. As the Rabbi says, he only has to ask his dad to let him down and he can go! Mishugena mamzer – Fucocktun Yutz!

A fleeing Taliban, desperate for water, was plodding through the Afghanistan desert when he saw something far off in the distance. Hoping to find water, he hurried toward the object, only to find a little old Jewish man at a small stand selling ties.

by Mrs Shellsuit

It was my Birthday last week. As is traditional I had a ‘few’ drinks with friends. I took the next day off work so I could recover. When I woke up I didn’t feel much like getting dressed, all I wanted to do was have a nice cup of tea and maybe watch some TV as I sprawled myself out on the sofa.

My head was banging a little so I thought a bit of mindless daytime TV was in order to dull the pain. It really wasn’t my day; the milk in the fridge had curdled. The little shop next door sells milk, so I put on my slippers and went out the door.

‘You can’t come go out in public in your pyjamas’ said the patrolling Policeman. I was astonished; there was a Policeman in our street! As I looked around I noticed that the Pixies were also wearing their bedclothes; some of them must have slept in the nude and just wrapped the bed sheets around themselves. I pointed this out to the neighbourhood bobby.

Next thing I knew, a black helicopter was overhead and men were dropping from it on ropes. PC Copper had filmed me using the camera in his Police Helmet. Pictures of me looking at the Pixies had been relayed straight to Police HQ and the Thought Response Unit had been despatched to deal with me.

I was amazed at how fast the Police dealt with my crime. Next time I need a copper I know what to do – I won’t bother with 999, I’ll just look sideways at a Pixie!

Next Birthday that I’m free, I’m sticking to Black Coffee!

by Hitlers Mussl

I’m a local greengrocer. I live above my own shop, where I sell all manner of locally grown produce. The business has been in the family for many years. My Grandfather likes to tell tales of how his Grandpa once sold some sprouts to Dr Livingstone. I presume he’s right, but my Gramps also says he sailed on the Lusitania!

Of late, business has been a bit slack. I put this down to the Pixies who have set up shop in the street. When I say street, I mean exactly that. The other day I heard a bit of a kafuffle coming from the street so I went out to see what was going on. The Pixie grocer was stood bold as you like with his plums out, getting some lady customers to feel how succulent they were.

I thought ‘ah so that’s why business is slow. Two can play at that game.'

I loaded some vegetables onto my barrow, pushed it to the edge of the pavement to where the young ladies were and showed them my massive turnip.

I said to them ‘Look at this. Isn’t it a beauty? I bet you’d like that in your hot-pot’

A passing Policeman stopped and told me to get back into my shop; I couldn’t get my turnip out like that. I told him the Pixie had been showing his plums. The Policeman said he didn’t care what the Pixie was doing, and he took down my particulars.

The Pixie on the street invited the Policeman to have a squeeze of his ripest banana.
‘Would you like this for your missus?’ asked the Pixie.

‘I’ll get my son to come round – he can’t get enough of ones like that’ replied the Policeman.

I mumbled under my breath about how these Pixies could do whatever they liked whilst I had to obey every ridiculous rule the council imposed. Well, I must admit I wasn’t expecting what happened next...

From the edge of the pavement came a mighty crashing sound as the manhole cover lifted. Out shot a procession of coppers. The new drain-positioned CCTV had picked up my muttering of malcontent with the Pixie newcomers. The filth-covered coppers gave me a resounding beating and plunged my head down into the sewer. I won’t tell you what they did with the marrow on my barrow!

Never again will I criticise our beloved Pixies. Never again will I be able to eat veg. Yuck!