One day when a National Front dictatorship rules over these islands led by a short, enfeebled geezer with a Charlie Chaplin moustache, I only hope I am a tax exile in Zurich, or somewhere. I simply don't like the idea. I do suppose it's up to people like me to put a stop to this growth of fascism before it gets out of hand because looking at the Germany of the 1920s the masses didn't see the danger in Mr Hitler. Pete Lazenby is now a leading activist in the Anti-Nazi League, and he is busy recruiting all the time, but I fear that his legions are made up of blood~red communists, who'd like nothing better than to see the likes of the Hon Mrs Angus Ogilvy, and her more important relatives, hanging by their necks from the turrets of Tower Bridge. It's always from one extreme to the other, don't you think?
Retired to bed with Adolf Hitler and these gloomy thoughts at 10:30.
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Showing posts with label nazism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nazism. Show all posts
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Saturday August 31, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Hilda: blue. Wet day. The marriage of Diane Gadsby and Paul Anthony Edwards at Pudsey St Lawrence. Ally went off at 8:30am to...

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Moorhouse Inn 2nd Sunday in Lent with dear Phyllis. Drizzle. Up for a full-English. Samuel is much better behaved without the influence of ...
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Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...