Could we get worse MPs and ministers than the ones we have already got?
We have people who have no concern for people. Is there intelligent they managed to disguise it very well.
It’s mainly immigrants bringing more intelligence into this country
I heard somebody say about the well-known fact that Jewish people are more intelligent on average than other people in Europe, well you see it’s the survival of the fittest. is persecution and the Holocaust have been such a good thing that really improved the intelligence of the Jews why don’t we kill 6 million British people in order to make the rest of us more intelligent?
Why stop there? Why not kill all of us and wait to see if the intelligence of British people living in other parts or the world will become higher as a consequence
Survival of the fittest does not have that kind of meaning. If you have a very gradual process and does not include murder or in a case of trying to improve your crops it does not involve killing lots of wheat and barley in order to make the next generation better quality
If you kill as much wheat and barley as possible then you won’t have any crops next year or the one after unless you can buy some going to be better than the ones you just destroyed. Natural selection happens naturally and absolutely not by planned killing.
If you killed all the horses that were alive now you would not have better horses born by a miracle.
In my opinion most of the people in Europe and particularly in the United Kingdom are more stupid than their grandparents.
You don’t have to do it dawn till dusk Creative work — while not being on a par with, say, mining — can be a hard slog from morning to night. Many of those I spoke to write in short bursts. “It’s like Ribena — it’s always better when it’s stronger and less diluted,” said the novelist and memoirist Elizabeth Day, who works two hours in a sitting. Similarly, the poet Wendy Cope told me that she does two or three sessions of 40 minutes each; that’s as much as she can write in a day.
unafraid of stating her sometimes fierce views. Her story collection “The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher” — its title story was the result of a painkiller-induced fantasy Mantel once had in the hospital — caused a literary maelstrom. Lord Tebbit, a former cabinet minister, called it “a sick book from a sick mind”; there were calls for a police investigation. (For her part, Mantel said she was “bemused” at the suggestion that “the police should interest themselves in the case of a fictional assassination of a person who was already dead.”)
Deeply intellectual in her thinking, Mantel was also candid about her personal struggles — with poverty, with early professional setbacks, with how people perceived her, with endometriosis and chronic, debilitating pain — and rigorous in her self-appraisal..
Beneath the rotting leaves, I lay with worms.
I wondered if I were of any worth
No more to be enchanted by love’s mirth,
I with unnamed particles was turned.
The weight of loss bears down the heart to eart
I did not know the way but saw a path
While I slept a new design had formed
I learned I need not think of what I’m worth
My sorrow brought no guilt nor fear of wrath
I am the eagle and the twisted worm
In my little grave, I loved the earth.
Like the adder, shocked into rebirth.
I from silent underworld had learned
Not to judge my soul nor think of worth.
I shall not fear the flames of hell that burn
When blackness is accepted, may one learn?
The weight of loss breaks down the soul to earth
With dusty shredded leaves, we then converse