NIGHT MUST FALL

by Professor Revilo P. Oliver (Liberty Bell, December 1987)

THE SEPTEMBER ISSUE of Spearhead comments on the appointment of a new Chief Commissioner for London's Metropolitnan Police, who will hold what may be the most strategic office in Britain. The Chief Commissioner not only governs, with virtually autocratic authority, the police who maintain order in the capital city, but sets the standards for all the police forces in Britain, which look up to the Metropolitan Police as the archetype of exemplary organization, while promotion to London is the acme of every provincial officer's ambition. And as all readers of detective stories know, the Chief Commissioner is the ruler of Scotland Yard, the most famous detective organization in the world, from which the police of all the counties of England regularly borrow experts to solve mysteries of which the solution does not quickly become obvious. And every visitor to the British Isles in the age that ended with the Suicide of Europe was impressed by the efficiency and courtesy of the organization created by Sir Robert Peel in 1829 and justly admired -- and envied -- by the rest of the civilized world.

Since the new Commissioner will distribute the honors, promotions, and emoluments that are the rewards of service in the police, it is obvious that he can, within a few years, completely remodel and transform the enforcement of law throughout England and even in Ulster and Scotland.

The new Commssioner is a person named Peter Imbert, who, to judge from photographs, is White, possibly Anglo-Saxon, and male. Spearhead discloses the qualifications that entitled Imbert to his high position. In 1984, when he was Chief Constable (1) of the Thames Valley Police, he shamelessly confessed: "There are six black faces in my family. My wife's sister and my niece married colored men and are raising multi-racial families. Our society is changing from the white, middle-class stereotype that my generation grew up with. I welcome the change." The word 'stereotype' suffices to show the operations of the degenerate's mind. It is a favorite in the patter of "Liberal intellectuals," most of whom have no notion of how stereotypes were made, but all of whom are inspired by beatific visions of a future in which the planet will swarm with diseased and mindless mongrels, living as happily as rats in the sewers of old Paris.
 
 
 
 

(1. The fact that such an individual became Chief Constable measures the rotting of England since the time at which the office of Chief Constable, almost a liturgy, was normally bestowed on a prosperous colonel or major who had retired from the Army.)

 
 

Just before he entered office, the loathsome traitor to his nation and race announced that "racial attackers," by which he meant lowly Anglo-Saxons so bigoted that they jostle on the streets any of the vermin that are overrunning England, would be "charged by assault by Scotland Yard [!]" and arrested "even if the victim shows no signs of injury," because disrespect shown the nigger or wog creates "stress" in the dear creature's delicately attuned psyche. Imbert has even announced that in London, where the vermin are mugging, robbing, beating, and even murdering white men and women, and raping white women and children, with ever increasing impunity, the "first priority" of the Metropolitan Police will be that of "stamping out racial abuse" and putting in their place Englishmen who are not humbly grateful for the privilege of being molested, mauled, and kicked around by the filthy and savage anthropoids to whom they are giving their island.

Furthermore, "racial taunts" are now legally crimes in England and subject to punishment by five years in prison. So if you injudiciously visit the multi-racial sewer that was once a civilized land and the cynosure of the White world, and you enter a British "pub," be careful! Some of the "usuals" (as habitués of the taverns are called) are sure to be disguised Chief Inspectors from Scotland Yard, eavesdropping on conversations in the hope of trapping some dastardly criminal in the very act, flagrante delicto, of making an unkind and possibly pejorative remark about noble niggers or worshipful wogs. And if, as is likely, you are mugged, beaten, and perhaps mutilated as you leave the "pub," be prudent and don't let the police hear you complain, for that might lead to a criminal charge that you disapprove of civil rights for rodents.

In the same issue, the editor of the periodical reports -- with prudent caution, for he has spent months in prison for the crime of believing that Englishmen still had a country of their own (see Liberty Bell, March 1987, p. 2) -- an item of news that seems to have been overlooked by the friends who send me cuttings from the British press. "We even have a Crown Court judge [race unstated] on record as saying that the theory that the Holocaust never happened is one that 'cannot be tolerated in our society.' " We are not told whether the eminent jurist thought that drawing and quartering would be a sufficient punishment of the crime of doubting any hoax the predatory race wants to impose on its dupes. This in a country inhabited by the epigoni of a nation that remembered its Magna Charta and boasted of its intellectual freedom since the time of Mary's frantic effort to reimpose Roman Catholicism by pseudo-legal terrorism!

This issue of Spearhead went to press a few days too early. It reports the appearance of a nigger named Richard Grant Stokes in the ranks of Britain's most honored and élite soldiers, the Guard, whose duty is to protect the monarch. The creature was inducted into the Guard after his disorderly insubordination while in training was overlooked (since it would have been unjust to apply to Neanderthals the standards that are enforced against Englishmen), and the British press was filled with Yiddish hosannahs and proudly-displayed photographs of the ape standing as a black spot on the ranks of handsome young Englishmen, who, no doubt, were concealing, with the iron discipline for which the Guard is famous, the sickness in their stomachs.

The magazine just missed the news that a few days after this animated jewel of multi-racial Britain went on duty in the Guard, he, with the dexterity and morality for which his race is famous, 'pinched' the wallet of a tourist. For this exercise of his civil rights, the dear nigger will be punished by being relieved of duty for a few days and given a reprimand. It is still thought expedient, you see, to placate racial bigots in England occasionally until Scotland Yard has taught them their place in the world.

It is admitted that the élite pickpocket is the protégé of Prince Charles, who shoved him into the Guard and is acting to spare his dear favorite the drastic punishment that would have been inflicted on a Briton guilty of the same offense. Prince Charles, called the Clown Prince of Whales by some Englishmen who retain a sense of decency, is a part-Jewish degenerate, who likes to be photographed dancing with niggers (female in the published pictures), and who is Heir Apparent to the now tinsel throne of Great Britain. Some Anglo-Saxons do not look forward with joy to the reign of King Charles III (or will it be David I?), and, retaining their traditional optimism, meditate on the fact that the Prince's favorite body-servant recently died of "AIDS" (see Liberty Bell, May 1987, pp. 16f.).

Such is England's progress to the abyss. (2)
 
 
 

(2. More than a dozen years ago, an Englishman gave me four or five copies of a leaflet entitled "A Short History of the British Empire," and consisting of a triptych of three pictures. I seem inadvertantly to have given away all four or five copies, and friends in Britain cannot find more of what was a small private and perhaps suppressed printing. If perchance any reader has a copy of this concise prophecy, I am sure the editor of Liberty Bell would be grateful, if the copy were lent to him for reproduction in these pages.)


 

More than two decades ago I commented on one of the most terrible tragedies of all recorded history, the ghastly process that, in less than a century, reduced the British, a great nation and rulers of an empire on which the sun never set, to a herd of frightened sheep, huddled together on a little island on which the sun will soon set for the last time.

And night must fall.
 

This article originally appeared in Liberty Bell magazine, published monthly by George P. Dietz from September 1973 to February 1999. For reprint information please write to Liberty Bell Publications, Post Office Box 21, Reedy WV 25270 USA.

Copyright ©2001 Kevin Alfred Strom.  Back to Revilo P. Oliver Index