#TheWarOnMotorists

The War on motorists is regularly fobbed off as ‘conspiracy theorist fodder’ but is in fact a genuine war instigated by socialist governments, especially Britain, to try and force motorists off of the road by the use of stealth taxes and a denial of ‘the freedom to roam’ which aligns beautifully with the fifteen minute city concept.

 

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The cry “war on motorists” they laugh away as lore,
Yet many feel the pressure rising heavier than before.
They say it’s just a theory whispered loud upon the street,
But drivers feel the tightening grip beneath their turning seat.

Stealthy tolls and levies climb like shadows in the night,
While freedom of the open road grows fainter in its light.
The promise of the roaming lane once wide beneath the sky,
Now bends to maps of minutes where the boundaries draw nigh.

Some picture darker futures drawn from novels grim and cold,
Where watchful towers and quiet rules keep every pathway controlled.
A world where power gathers high in hands of chosen few,
And movement must be granted like a pass you must renew.

For rulers fear a restless crowd that wanders where it will,
So roads become the quiet place where freedoms they can still.
When travel costs a fortune and each mile is under scan,
The road belongs to wealth alone, not to the working man.

And debt becomes the bridle bit that keeps the driver tame,
A fine for every slip or sign, a letter full of blame.
Licences hang by fragile threads that any rule can sever,
A bureaucratic hammer poised to fall whenever.

Across the towns new numbers bloom upon the roadside sign,
Twenty here and thirty there in ever-lengthening line.
A sprinkle made of penalties like glitter in the air,
That settles on the windscreen of the driver unaware.

The taxes climb like ivy round the wheels we used to trust,
And older cars are branded now as relics turned to dust.
“Non-compliant,” whispers spread through garages and yards,
As families sell the keys they loved and shuffle transit cards.

A bicycle replaces steel that once could roam afar,
And hours grow longer just to reach our work without a car.
The day begins in darkness and returns in evening’s gloom,
While crowded trains replace the quiet cabin’s little room.

Then parking turns to puzzles drawn inside a glowing screen,
With apps that spin in circles where a simple meter’s been.
The signal fades like misty rain where data should appear,
And fines arrive for elders who can’t make sense – in fear.

Councils hum like money-hoovers pulling coins from every lane,
While drivers tread through forms and codes and try to stay quite sane.
And still the whisper circles that the tightening has begun,
A war upon the motorist – that many feel is won.

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Copyright © Peter Moring  2026

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The War on motorists is regularly fobbed off as ‘conspiracy theorist fodder’ but is in fact a genuine war instigated by socialist governments, especially Britain, to try and force motorists off of the road by the use of stealth taxes and a denial of ‘the freedom to roam’ which aligns beautifully with the fifteen minute city concept.

Think Gilead in ‘The Housemaids Tale’ and you have socialism to a tee. An Oligarchy in fact. Where the elite demand total subservience from all other lower classes. To achieve that, they must be able to stop all freedom of movement. All movement/travel must be monitored and strictly controlled, with only those wealthy enough being able to afford to travel by motor vehicles that are tracked and restricted, with everyone else having to use public transport under a limited ‘voucher’ scheme.

The only way to get total subservience is either to put everyone into debt, or fear of debt. With fines for virtually every action you take on a daily basis in a motor vehicle being fineable, with the added risk of losing a driving licence and permissions for travel in jeopardy, they have the perfect ‘sledgehammer’ to crush anyone, at any time.

At present in the UK, motorists are being sorely ‘tested’ with 20 mph limits and 30 mph limits springing up everywhere! With fines and loss of licences being sprinkled like fairy dust over all motorists. Road taxes that are totally unsustainable for many motorists, and penalties just for owning! ‘Net-Zero Non-Compliant’ vehicles forcing many owners to simply sell off their vehicles without the necessary funds to replace them. Leaving them totally dependant on a bicycle or pubic transport to be able to get to work to earn a basic living. Adding HOURS per week to the working day.

Then we have the parking nightmares where it is going all-digital via various app’s that often don’t even download onto many Smart-Phones, with complicated procedures and internet connectivity as random as hens teeth in many cases. The elderly, vulnerable, and those who simply do not understand modern technology finding themselves being FINED! to the hilt because they never went through the motions correctly, or in time. Many Local Council’s have adopted these parking methods and have found them to be very productive ‘Money-Hoovers’. While keeping many-many motorists floundering under debt!

The ‘Socialist Battle-Cry’ is – Keep them in debt, keep them poor, keep them at home, threaten them with consequences to demand subservience, and threaten them with homelessness to keep them productive…. The War On Motorists is very much a plan-of-action that has been active for some years now, and it’s gathering speed at an alarming pace.

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The Food-Junkie Plan-demic

When Food Becomes A Weapon To Control The Population’s Mind, Body And Soul For Monetary Gain! You Have To Wonder? – Are We Merely ‘Worker-Drones’ For The Globalist Elite!?

 

 

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Screens glow bright in evening light, their colors slick and grand,
They whisper low of dough and doughnuts shaped by hidden hand.
A thousand ads with frying pans parade in hungry streams,
To seed desire and stoke the fire that simmers in our dreams.

The burgers gleam, the cheeses steam, the sauces drip and shine,
A symphony of recipes designed to blur the line.
Between a need and greedy feed, between a meal and more,
Till appetites ignite like kites that tug forevermore.

The shows appear with smiling cheer and judges bold and loud,
They cook, compete, present the treat to captivate the crowd.
Week by week the flavors speak and lure the watchers near,
A ritual feast through glowing beast the living rooms revere.

The ovens roar, the ratings soar, the sponsors line the stage,
Each plated bite becomes a sight to anchor every age.
From couch to phone the orders flown through apps that swiftly glide,
A rider near with takeaway to place it by your side.

The wrappers tear, the scented air awakens deeper need,
The sugar sings, temptation clings like ivy to the seed.
A midnight snack becomes a stack of habits tightly wound,
Where quiet gain becomes a chain of pounds that gather round.

Meanwhile halls of sterile walls count profits tall and wide,
Where pills await each rising weight the adverts helped to guide.
Insurance tallies hidden valleys carved by modern taste,
Where claims arise from sugared skies and years of dietary waste.

The cycle spins on greased-up pins through markets vast and grand,
A tidy scheme behind the screen devised by subtle hand.
For where there’s ill there’s profit still to harvest from the pain,
And medicine will welcome in the swelling health-care chain.

The watchers sit, convinced a bit this hunger’s simply theirs,
Unaware of crafted snares that linger in the airs.
The laughter bright on cooking night distracts the quiet clue,
That every cheer draws viewers near to crave another chew.

And far beyond the studio’s glow where quiet ledgers lie,
The engines hum of markets numb beneath a profit sky.
From farm to fork the pathways cork with deals both dark and deep,
While watchers chew what they once knew was merely harmless treat.

So salivate at every plate the networks proudly show,
Where recipes and rivalries ensure the cravings grow.
A gentle spell through sight and smell that keeps the viewers fed,
Until the cost appears embossed on body, mind, and bread.

Thus glows the screen with silver sheen each hungry evening hour,
A banquet staged upon the page of profit, praise, and power.
And in that light the bites seem right, the story neatly spread,
Till health and wealth reveal the stealth that quietly was bred.

Copyright © Peter Moring  2026

 

Why would any government or globalist body feel the need to instigate a ‘food-junkie’ pandemic?

Consider that the most profitable industries in the world are Big Pharma – Insurance – Health & The War Machine and You’ll have the answer staring you in the face.

But How? …. Maybe finance the global TV advertising networks to continuously promote and feature food products during peak viewing times? So that viewers will salivate and order a takeaway to be delivered by the numerous ‘delivery companies’, usually using the services of the ‘black economy’ (AKA; CHEAP!)

Maybe sponsor numerous Foodie Programmes to be shown at Peak Viewing Times to keep those mouths salivating even more!

Then why not introduce the ‘competition element’ to these programmes to make doubly sure that the viewers come back for MORE! week-after-week?
Sounds like a ‘plan-demic’ to me .. A plan to cause an obesity pandemic .. Where health will certainly deteriorate. Where Big Pharma see’s profits SOAR! As folk start claiming on their ‘Health Insurances’ to try to recover from their health issues caused by their ‘now’ food addiction.

Seems like the perfect scenario EH? … Social Hypnosis through ‘Agent TV1’ as found in ‘The Human Survival Blueprint‘ by Ven Bunce.

The Globalists, Private Billionaires, Political Figures, Big Pharma, Insurance Co’s, Health Services, All raking in the Dollars/Pounds from the unsuspecting populations of the world who just ‘think’ they like food.

OH! Did I forget the ‘War Machine’?? … WELL! They have to get their Cannon-Fodder from somewhere. Doesn’t matter if they’re fit or not, just numbers of disposable human flesh is ALL that’s required as in ‘The Universal Soldier‘ by Ven Bunce.

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