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Manchester, unite!

My family is from Manchester.

My mother and Uncle Mike grew up there in the immediate post-war period, playing hide and seek in the bomb sites (though they were strictly forbidden to, of course). He is very good at fixing bicycles and he told me it was because as a kid he used to go into the bomb sites and pick out the wreckage of old bikes, put the parts together to make a whole one and give them to their friends.

My Auntie Gill grew up there, with her mother and aunts working in the cotton mills. It’s where the high-pitched “Manchester fish wife” accent comes from. They all talked at that pitch so they could be heard over the racket of the machines, and Gill picked it up.

My cousins Danny and Mark both grew up there, in a neighbourhood called Wythenshawe, where I lived as a small child. Danny’s kids all have the Manchester accent, though softened by being brought up in the village in the country. When I was little I had the accent, and when we came back to Canada, no one would believe I had been born there.

My mother took us to live there when I was small, and I knew even then that this is where we were from, in the deepest sense of a kind of cellular connection to a place. It was our “paese”, and for all the remaining years of my childhood after we returned to Canada, I pestered my mother to go back. When she died in 2007 and I had had enough of the nonsense, and no reasons to stay, a kind of homing beacon seemed to switch itself on in my soul and I could not rest a moment until I had got back. I’ll never forget getting off the plane at Manchester airport, through the baggage claim, and into the pick-up area, scanning the crowd and spotting Uncle Mike instantly. It had been thirty-five years, but I knew him.

I stayed only a year and it was a wrench to leave again when I moved to Rome. But from the moment I arrived in the little Cheshire village east of Manchester where the family had moved, everyone said the same thing: “It’s as if you’d never left.” It was as natural to me as the home stream to a salmon. Somewhere deep in the lower parts of my brain, the sights, the smells, the sounds, the accents, the food, the houses, the way of life, said to me, “This is where you are from.”

To this day, whenever I overhear tourists with the Manchester accent it feels like I’ve come home. I recently subscribed to a watercolour painting tutorial page on Youtube, not because the paintings were very good, but because the elderly man who does them has the Lancashire accent, which is very close. It’s the North. It’s the chill of fog on the fields in the morning; it’s the sound of rooks in the trees; it’s the comfort of a hot, dark cup of tea; it’s the smell of coal fires in a November evening with the wind roaring; it’s the low, mossy old rock walls around the gardens of roses; it’s the village fete and the pancake races; it’s popping up to the village shop to get a bottle of milk and today’s Daily Mail; it’s the ladies chatting in the chemist’s; it’s the fire and a pint in the village pub; it’s the kids’ football match on a Saturday afternoon in May. It’s the meaning and purpose of life in this world.

Gill tells me that now Wythenshawe is overrun with Pakistani and Arab Muslims, nothing but burkas as far as the eye can see, and the native English people have been driven out by the hostility and racism of these invaders. Their “religion” is a satanic death cult. Their culture is violent, oppressive, racist and evil. When are we going to have the courage to say that it must be pushed back and overcome? When are we going to wake up and see that Christian civilization has civilized half the world, and is the only one worth fighting to preserve?

And much, much more to the point, what is it going to take for the people to rise against the men who continue to insist that this is the way, that this carnage, this foreign, Islamic horror, is the future?

When are we going to say no to the people who continue to genocide us in our own lands?


13 thoughts on “Manchester, unite!”

  1. Chris Robertson says:


    You and I are Traddies of a similar age, and shared similar musical intersts, back in the day. I wonder if you saw the recent FB post by Morrissey, a fellow Manchester native.

    “Celebrating my birthday in Manchester as news of the Manchester Arena bomb broke. The anger is monumental. For what reason will this ever stop?…

    “Manchester mayor Andy Burnham says the attack is the work of an “extremist”. An extreme what? An extreme rabbit?

    “In modern Britain everyone seems petrified to officially say what we all say in private… 23 May 2017”

    Kind of gives new meaning to the lyrics of Panic, one of his most famous songs:

    “Panic on the streets of London
    Panic on the streets of Birmingham
    I wonder to myself
    Could life ever be sane again?
    The leeds side-streets that you slip down
    I wonder to myself
    Hopes may rise on the grasmere
    But honey pie, you’re not safe here
    So you run down
    To the safety of the town
    But there’s panic on the streets of Carlisle
    Dublin, Dundee, Humberside
    I wonder to myself “

  2. Evangeline says:

    And now today, the poor Copts in Egypt. We can’t keep up with the death count.
    We have not the will to survive yet. I will say, Americans seem to, having elected Donald Trump. The polls did not catch what the actual reason was that he was elected, Americans saw Islam and said no thank you.
    Europeans have voted in their masters, and their masters now say they cannot speak, cannot even complain about being bombed and murdered, lest they be charged with a “hate crime”. This travesty of justice, this demand that the victims be quietly happy about the destruction of their homeland and people, is one of the most diabolical aspects of this violent takeover of Europe. You must also be PLEASANT about it, and if you cannot be pleasant, you will be quiet.
    Europeans must, simply MUST, overcome their fear of reprisals and get out in the streets by the hundreds of thousands! They must. They are really and truly fighting for their own survival. Although, we see that France has elected a globalist croissant to lead them, and Manchester is quiet, very, very quiet, despite having their little girls blown apart by madmen.
    I’m sorry for your town. It is hard to see your homeland be destroyed.
    May God help us, may He open the eyes of the future victims so they can see the danger is not “radical Islam” but simply “Islam”.

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  5. Mike says:

    Beautifully written piece, though sad, of course. Here is the USA, I am triply glad I voted for Trump. No apologies.

    With prayers for the victims of this savage attack.

  6. Boethius says:

    The Long War between Islam and The West (the area formerly known as Christendom) has been lead, until somewhat recently, by the elites i.e. Pope Urban II, Raymond of Toulouse, Richard the Lionheart, Louis’ VII and IX, Pope Pius V, Don Juan of Austria, etc. Their postmodern counterparts, being more enlightened and sophisticated of course, are less stalwart in their defense of the West. In fact, if one did not know better, one might mistakenly think that these elites were actively trying to destroy the West. Perish the thought!

    It doesn’t matter what the hoi polloi thinks or wants. Not until the ruling class decides to do something about the Jihad in the West, nothing sensible will be done. It is a simple, if not easy, problem to fix.

    We need a new ruling class.

  7. Helen Weir says:

    I went back to Ireland once. I say “back,” of course, although I personally had never been there before. I remember standing, with unshed tears glistening in my eyes, in front of the house where my grandfather had been born. The cousin who had kindly taken me there–misunderstanding me entirely–put her hand on my shoulder and said, “It must be very hard for you, as an affluent American, to see that your roots are actually this humble,” which wasn’t what I was feeling AT ALL. I think it is because we have (collectively; and speaking in sweeping generalizations) lost all sense of family and ethnic ties that we can witness the Islamization taking place all around us, by violent or non-violent means, shake our heads, and change the channel. It usn’t only acts of terrorism which need to be opposed, but the depersonalization that Islam usn’t imposing on the West, but merely taking advantage of. If we don’t care any more, no amount of bombing is going to make us.

  8. Hilary White says:

    It also comes from the time of the Empire, when “Asian” was what you called the parts of the BE upon which the sun never set, as a blanket term for anything east of Constantinople. But it would have fallen out of use for this purpose – along withe Empire – if it had not recently been adopted by the PC media party as the euphemism of choice for “Muslim.” And of course, to the rest of the Anglosphere who aren’t actually anglos, “Asian” means Far East; for Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Lebanon, Jordan etc are “Middle Eastern;” Indians, Bangladeshis, Pakistanis etc I sometimes hear referred to as “Subcontinentals”. We N. American anglos don’t have the Empire in the back of our minds so the old catch-all idea isn’t there.

  9. Michael Dowd says:

    For more on this barbaric act please see: Manchester Murders Open Thread

  10. Sue Sims says:

    It wasn’t intended as a euphemism. There were people from various parts of the Indian sub-continent: the wedding shop was run by Hindus, the wine store by Sikhs, and there were one or two shops displaying Arabic orthography, which would imply either Pakistan, Bangladesh, or the Middle East. ‘Asians’ is a catch-all phrase, I agree, but in this case it was, I think, justified.

  11. Gary says:

    The madness of political correctness and multiculturalism, which dictates that no civilization is better than another and orders us to be “nice” and welcoming to everyone, will be the death of us all. These people have one goal in mind, and that is to kill us and absorb our nations into the caliphate. They are relentless and there is no possibility of dialogue or reformation of their worldview.

    Sadly, there are no men such as Charles Martel around anymore. Not even close. If it weren’t for him, we might all be speaking Arabic today and praying towards Mecca. Without discounting the providence of God in this struggle, the courage and determination of ordinary men and leaders is needed to confront this menace.

  12. Hilary White says:


    “Asians”… They were Japanese and Vietnamese then? Perhaps Cantonese or Koreans?

    We don’t use BBC euphemisms here.

  13. Andrew Dunn says:

    To all of us reading this: Please, please, please, pray the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary for the repose of the souls of those killed in Manchester. I shudder to think how many of those killed were not baptized, were not raised in the Catholic (or even Protestant) faith, were 100% secularist as a consequence of the era in which they were born and raised.

    Hilary, my sincerest condolences to you, your family and the people of Manchester.

    Our Lady of Walsingham, pray for us.

  14. Sue Sims says:

    I recently went back to the suburb of London where I grew up, and parked in a local shopping centre called Rayners Lane. Many of the shops were low-cost ‘bargain’ stores, and all were run by Asians as far as I could see. One summer, I’d worked as a waitress in a Wimpy Bar (for non-English readers, a chain of cheap hamburger restaurants) just by the Tube station: the Wimpy Bar has gone, and the premises now belong to a business that organises Asian weddings. There were few people around, and the whole area felt desolate.

    This is the bit where I say that I’m not a racist, etc – but seeing my childhood home taken over by an alien culture was horrible.

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