Author: Petem

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*The Prison-Masters Marionettes*

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They rise in suits with polished grin and practiced, empty praise,
Yet many never earned their bread through honest working days.
They mouth the script, they nod on cue, they bend to unseen hands,
And sell the latest polished lie as if it were ‘their’ plans.

They do not steer the ship of state, they merely paint the sails,
Repeating what the masters wrote in whispers, threats, and veils.
They call it service, call it truth, call duty to the land,
But all too often policy is puppeteered by command.

A few still bear the calloused mark of labour, grit, and strain,
Who once could grip the helm of power – and chart against the rain.
Now sidelined in the fading rows, their voices worn and thin,
They serve their towns with what remains – while hollow men still grin.

Yet through the smoke a newer breed begins to find its name,
Condemned by polished party tongues and branded into shame.
They’re called Hard Right by those who fear the loss of bought consent,
While common folk just see a will – to stand – and not relent.

They fight to save a battered isle once proud in bone and breath,
From creeping schemes in velvet gloves that smile the nation’s death.
A slow agenda, dressed as care, has tightened every chain,
And traded hearth and heritage for managed loss and pain.

Since iron rule was undercut by cowards soft and pale,
The wet and meek unstitched the seams and set the course to fail.
The creed survived in altered coats, in blue and scarlet dressed,
A single beast with painted heads – and one command impressed.

They purged the roots, removed the spine, and kept the label bright,
Till only hollow banners marched and called their left turn – right.
They passed the baton hand to hand, same engine, different paint,
And drove the U.K.P.L.C. toward the cliff with every smiling saint.

Near bankrupt ran the battered cart, near sold for foreign gold,
To waiting powers eastward-eyed and patient, sharp, and cold.
They almost sealed the final deed, they nearly locked the gate,
Till one man balked – and would not sign – the mortgage of the state.

He dropped the torch, refused the purse, stepped back from promised gain,
And left the eager zealots there to dance beneath the chain.
They marched it on with moral void and doctrinaire delight,
Believing they would rule the heap once day consumed the night.

They dream of thrones in ash and debt, of comfort bought by lies,
Still trusting those who taught deceit to crown their compromise.
But masters forged in fraud and greed keep no one safe or warm,
They feed on use, discard the spent, and bless the coming storm.

So pensions fade – and fortunes flee – and exiles cross the foam,
Not knowing every border bends – inside the same vast dome.
One prison dressed in many flags, one globe in managed grey,
You may check out whene’er you please – yet never get away.

Copyright © Peter Moring  2026

The problem is, that MOST Politicians are ‘career politicians’ who’ve NEVER done a days work in their lives and OBEY! – ‘Their Masters Voice’ – over all else!

They Vote, Nod & Lie whichever way They’re TOLD to. MP’s are not ‘driving’ policies, they are ‘propagating’ them for their Masters .. There are a Few Grafters, Independent speakers and thinkers, who ‘used’ to have their hands on the Tiller of Power! But now find themselves irrelevant, sitting out there tenure only able to offer help and support to their constituent’s …

Luckily we DO have a new breed coming along who the ‘Uni-Party Masters’ are calling ‘Far Right’ … Which most right-minded individuals just see as RIGHT!Because They are FIGHTING to try and SAVE this ONCE Great Britain (and also The World) from the Socialist/Communist Agenda that fell into place and has been in Constant Power since Margaret Thatcher was stabbed in the back by Her Treasonous WETS!  … The New Breed of politicians who are totally subservient to Their ‘Uni-Party-Masters’ … We remember during the last spell of ‘Conservative Governance’ that the Tory Elite who held all of the ‘Strings of Power’ within the party, did away with ALL of the conservative MP’s until Only TORIES were LEFT! To run with the Socialist/Communist Baton as They tried to Bankrupt UKPLC and make it Ripe! For Russia or China to just Walk Right IN and take over.

They! Got to the point where they almost succeeded! But Their latest PM actually had a Conscience! He couldn’t go through with it, and certainly didn’t need the ‘Financial Arrangement’ from his ‘Masters’ … SO! – He handed over the baton to an ever-willing bunch of Idealists who form the ‘Momentum/Labour Party’ .. THEY! Have no morals, ethics or honesty in their make-up. Following their Master’s Decree 100% Is all They’re interested in, because they will then reach their Utopia – An Oligarchy, where THEY Think! They will be Kings/Queens of the PILE!! .. They Think! The Monster will THANK them and keep them in the Financial Comfort They have been Promised!

Problem with THAT! Is! – They were told LYING is acceptable, so they LIED at every opportunity. – Their Masters are ALSO LIARS and these degenerates who are driving Us ALL into Bankruptcy will simply become Victims! Of KARMA! – And Serve Them RIGHT! – So it doesn’t matter if They STOP Our Pensions, because as a ‘Socialist Oligarchy’ We will ALL be brought DOWN to the same level of POVERTY!

The Rich and Well-Off are already Flooding abroad to safer havens until the Political Climate Changes. Not realising of course that #TheFew/#Globalists/#Masters are ‘Satan-Driven’ to turning the Whole Globe into ONE Great Mass of Communism – With Oligarchy’s – Not Nations – Being Sub-Countries and that They won’t have ESCAPED! But simply moved to a different AREA of the SAME Prison! …..

#ThePrisoner … “You Can Check-Out Any Time You Like! – But You Can NEVER Leave!” ….

Check My Youtube channel for the FULL Story …. Playlist … Or … Channel

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The Final *Death-Throws* Of A Drowning GB

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Please Press Play Above And Follow Along With The Poem Below.

 

In eighty-two the island roared and would not bow or bend,
A lion hearted nation stood and fought the storm to end.
Its iron voice was crowned with praise, then cast aside in shame,
By smiling hands with sharpened knives that praised, then broke her name.

She fell beneath the altar stone where party banners waved,
And from that day a single creed in borrowed colours reigned.
They wrapped their chains in velvet words and called the burden gain,
Promised gold in every palm while fastening the chain.

They flung the gates of chance abroad and called it freedom’s spin,
Where foreign tables feasted fat while Britain paid to grin.
They poured out easy silver loans with honey on the tongue,
And sold a thousand paper dreams to old alike and young.

A house for all, they sweetly sang, with keys for every hand,
Though every brick was owned by debt and mortgaged to the land.
The ink was thin, the rules were soft, the ledgers opened wide,
And hollow wealth in borrowed clothes came swaggering in with pride.

They built new banks for every fool to gamble on a name,
And taught the poor that credit was a shortcut into fame.
Then came the chant of “Uni! Uni!” rising like a drum,
As if a gown and borrowed words made wisdom surely come.

A parchment for the half-awake, a promise stamped and sealed,
They marched the young through lecture halls like wheat across a field.
They fed the mills with subsidy, cried “Expand! Expand! Expand!”
And scattered golden bait like seed on every eager hand.

“What possibly could fail?” they laughed beneath the painted trap,
Then sprung the jaws and watched the dream collapse in one loud snap.
The goalposts did not merely move, they burned them where they stood,
And left the ash of broken trade where once stood honest wood.

Then debt became the daily bread, and failure filled the cup,
One faction fled the sinking deck, the next sped madness up.
They named it “Austerity,” cold and neat, necessity by name,
And used the crash of banking halls to mask the greater blame.

Yet still the screws were tightened more, the noose was pulled in turn,
Till all could feel the nation choke and all could see it burn.
Then came the plague, the shuttered streets, the warnings barked in dread,
“Obey, comply, do not step out, or suffer fear instead.”

They pressed the boot on purse and mind and called the bruises care,
Till common folk began to smell the rot behind the air.
They cried for change, but change returned in different mask and tie,
The selfsame choir in altered coats still singing lullaby.

Now ledgers bleed and morals crack beneath the weight of lies,
A sponsored hand still grips the throat while truth grows dim in eyes.
Great Britain gasps in strangled dusk with but a kick or two,
Still drowning in the final throes beneath a fading blue.

 

Copyright © Peter Moring  2026

 

In 1982 Great Britain stood it’s ground against a hostile force and WON.
The Leader of this Great Nation was rewarded with a knife in the back by those she though of as friends and supporters.

She was very soon after slain on the alter of the socialist ‘Uni-Party’ which has been in control from that day to this – April 2026.
As a result we were given ‘gifts’ by the uni-party to ‘help’ us achieve wealth and great personal success.

Access to much higher Gambling winnings, made so much easier by opening UP the UK to international Gambling platforms that couldn’t be hosted in their native country’s.

We were given loans at near zero interest rates, self-certified 100% +++ mortgages so that everyone and anyone could own their own home.
(Though with a mortgage, it’s never really your OWN home until you pay that very last payment).
New Bank accounts could be opened by anyone, even with a very low credit rating.

We were also offered and almost Guaranteed University placements, whether you had a Brain or only Half! A Brain. Education was the Buzz-Word at the time, and it was repeated as MANY times as possible so that Everyone soon realised that ‘Uni’ was the ONLY way to GO!

Businesses were subsidised fantastically! So that they could EXPAND-Expand-EXPAND! Subsidies in place if You set-up in designated areas WHAT! Could go WRONG!??

Well – Once We all strolled into ‘The Socialists Rat-Trap’ With promises of Personal and Business Success For ALL! … We very soon found out! When they not only MOVED the goal posts – They Burnt them to the ground. Creating DEBT and FAILURE for everyone! Until the current regime resigned leaving the other half of the ‘Uni-Party’ to accelerate the decline even faster using ‘Austerity’ as it’s ‘necessity default’ Using the Banking Collapse as the perfect excuse!

Gradually, everything STILL got WORSE! Until another excuse was found to Beat Us ALL To The FLOOR! Financially and Mentally – Yes! A Pandemic was going to almost complete the job with it’s lock-downs and very official warnings of “Do Not Do This!  And That! – Or there WILL Be Consequences!”

Until the public smelt! The RAT! And demanded Change! Back! To the previous half of the ‘Uni-Party’ Who proceeded to DRIVE Great Britain towards a financially bankrupt society, and a Morally bankrupt Administration, which has an ‘Elephant Strangle-Hold’ on the Nation they have been Sponsored – To DESTROY! … Great Britain .. Dying from Strangulation, with only a couple more Kicks LEFT! – Until DEATH is inevitable.

Please Comment Below – And Check Out The Other Posts & Pages On This Blog – Thank You … Pete …

 

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**The GM Prison**

 

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Beneath a sky that hums with silent schemes,
We plant our hopes in rows and fragile dreams,
A polytunnel stretched against the haze,
To guard our crops from unseen, drifting sprays.

We flee the streets where London’s engines roar,
To breathe in fields we thought were pure once more,
With soil beneath our nails and hearts set free,
We chase the myth of what the air should be.

They tested blood before we turned away,
And seeds that sprouted in the city grey,
Then far from there, where greener pastures lie,
We thought we’d cleanse beneath a clearer sky.

A year went by with sunsets soft and wide,
With cleaner winds—or so we had implied,
Yet science whispered truths we couldn’t see,
The same faint trace in both reality.

The vegetables we nurtured with such care,
Still carried ghosts that lingered in the air,
Invisible, persistent, finely spun,
A thread connecting all beneath the sun.

The numbers showed no change we could defend,
No pure escape, no sharp dividing end,
Just different views to soothe a restless mind,
While something deeper lingered far behind.

Our peace improved, our spirits felt renewed,
By rolling hills and simpler attitude,
Yet questions grew like roots beneath the ground,
In every silence, doubt began to sound.

If this was then, before we named the game,
Before the whispers gathered into flame,
How long have veils been drifting overhead,
Unseen, unheard, yet quietly widespread?

What falls like dust but leaves no mark to trace,
What writes its code on every living face?
We look above and wonder what’s been done,
And if escape exists for anyone.

Copyright © Peter Moring  2026

 

Unless You grow Your food in a Polytunnel – The Geo-Engineering will STILL make Your Veggies etc ‘Genetically-Modified’ – They did a TV experiment some years ago in the UK with a couple living in London wanting to bring their kids up in cleaner air, eating healthier food etc;  Buying a plot of land down in the west country somewhere and growing their own food etc … They took blood tests and tests on the veg they were growing in their London garden before they left – and again a year or so later .. Nothing had changed .. The air quality was negligible, and the ‘Fresh Veg’ still had the impurities present .. The only things that really changed were the ‘surroundings’ They’d settled into – which improved their well-being … To think this was BEFORE We realised Geo-Engineering was going on – makes you wonder! – Just How looong! – They HAVE Been Poisoning Our Skies?

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Please Comment Below – And Check Out The Other Posts & Pages On This Blog – Thank You … Pete …

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#gm #geneticallymodified #geoengineering #chemtrails #cleanair #organicveg #thewisegardener .

 

 

 

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** The Siege Of Great Britain **

A thousand rules, each small when standing lone,
Together form a structure overthrown,
Not built in haste, but crafted piece by piece,
A tightening grip that never seems to cease.

 

 

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A nation isn’t conquered by ships upon the sea,
But quietly reshaped from minds that can’t see free,
No cannons roar, no banners fall in flame,
Just subtle shifts that slowly change the game.

First loosen roots that once made people strong,
Convince them self-reliance is somehow wrong,
Unweave the threads of harvest, trade, and skill,
Till empty shelves bend slowly to the will.

Then raise the cost of bread and light and heat,
Make daily living feel like some defeat,
Essentials climb beyond the common hand,
While whispered reasons echo through the land.

“It’s for the future, for the greater good,”
A phrase repeated till it’s understood,
Though pockets thin and choices fade away,
The script remains the same from day to day.

Once fertile fields now rest beneath decree,
Bound up in rules that choke productivity,
The plough stands still where once it carved with pride,
And foreign ships bring in what grew inside.

Dependence grows where independence stood,
A quiet shift disguised as something good,
The more they need what others choose to send,
The less they’re free to shape their start and end.

With every rise in cost, control expands,
Not chains of steel, but guided, tightened hands,
For when survival hangs on fragile thread,
It’s easier to steer the hearts you’ve led.

No siege with walls or ladders at the gate,
But pressures small that slowly concentrate,
Until the weight becomes too much to bear,
And no one knows exactly how it’s there.

A thousand rules, each small when standing lone,
Together form a structure overthrown,
Not built in haste, but crafted piece by piece,
A tightening grip that never seems to cease.

And through it all, a rallying refrain,
That sacrifice will somehow ease the strain,
Yet questions rise in quiet, cautious tone,
Of how a land once fed itself alone.

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Copyright © Peter Moring  2026

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** The Siege Of Great Britain**  –  From The Treasonous Traitors Inside!

 

There’s a long-standing idea that nations fall through dramatic, external forces—wars, invasions, or sudden catastrophe. But history and observation suggest something quieter and more complex can be just as powerful: change that comes gradually, internally, and often under the banner of progress.

One of the most striking ways this can happen is through the slow erosion of self-sufficiency. When a country can reliably produce its own food, energy, and essential goods, it holds a certain resilience. That resilience isn’t just economic—it’s psychological. It gives people a sense of stability and control over their future. But when those systems are weakened, whether through policy, neglect, or shifting priorities, a different dynamic begins to emerge.

As domestic production declines, dependence increases. Goods once grown, built, or sourced locally must now come from elsewhere. At first, this may not seem like a problem—global trade has many benefits, after all. But over time, if reliance becomes too great, it can leave a nation vulnerable to external pressures and internal strain.

Layered onto this is the rising cost of living, particularly around essentials—food, energy, housing. When these basic needs become more expensive, people feel it immediately. It shapes daily decisions, limits options, and can create a persistent sense of uncertainty. Importantly, rising costs don’t just affect wallets; they influence behavior. People become more cautious, more dependent on systems they may not fully trust, and less able to act independently.

Often, these changes are explained through large, complex challenges—economic shifts, environmental goals, or long-term planning. Issues like climate policy and sustainability are real and significant, and they require thoughtful responses. However, when policies tied to these goals have unintended consequences—such as increasing costs or reducing domestic capability—it’s worth examining how those trade-offs are managed and communicated.

The key concern isn’t any single policy or decision. It’s the cumulative effect. Small changes, each justified on their own, can add up to something much larger. Over time, they can reshape how a country functions and how its people experience everyday life.

What makes this process particularly difficult to address is its subtlety. There’s no clear turning point, no single moment where everything changes. Instead, it’s a gradual shift—one that can be hard to notice until its effects are deeply felt.

That’s why open discussion and critical thinking are so important. Questioning outcomes, examining evidence, and considering different perspectives aren’t signs of resistance—they’re essential parts of a healthy society. They help ensure that progress remains balanced, and that resilience isn’t unintentionally traded away.

Ultimately, the strength of a nation lies not just in its policies, but in its ability to adapt without losing its core stability. Maintaining that balance—between progress and self-reliance, between global cooperation and local strength—is one of the defining challenges of our time.

Please Check The Video Below ….

 

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Please Comment Below – And Check Out The Other Posts & Pages On This Blog – Thank You … Pete …

#siege #greatbritain #netzero #socialism #treason #costofliving

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Pro’s And Con’s Of Solar Farms

 

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Golden fields of panels drinking in the sun,
Quiet rows of power where the light is won,
Turning beams to energy, clean and bright,
Fueling homes and cities with captured light.

No smoke in the sky, no coal to burn,
Just the silent lesson the daylight learns,
A future unfolding in shades of green,
In places where the wild and wires convene.

They do not blaze or magnify the day,
But softly take the sunlight’s strength away,
Dark glass resting under open blue,
Working without fire or toxic hue.

Birds may pass in shadows overhead,
Unharmed by the gentle light they spread,
No scorching glare, no deadly ray,
Just mirrored whispers of the day.

Yet from afar, a shimmer may appear,
Like water calling wandering wings too near,
A lake that isn’t, a silent disguise,
Reflecting dreams in feathered eyes.

And so some circle, confused in flight,
Drawn by illusion in the light,
A fleeting risk in a brighter plan,
Where nature meets the works of man.

Beyond these fields, more mirrors gleam,
Where sunlight sharpens to a beam,
And in that heat, intense and rare,
The sky itself must take more care.

Still hope grows strong in every row,
In every place these panels glow,
A quieter path, a cleaner way,
To greet the dawn of every day.

So weigh the good with what may bend,
And shape the means to match the end,
For in the balance, You may find,
A kinder pact with the earth
and the sky aligned.

Copyright © Peter Moring  2026

 

Solar farms are becoming an increasingly common feature of modern landscapes, offering a promising route toward cleaner energy. Like any technology, however, they come with both advantages and drawbacks.

One of the biggest benefits of solar farms is their ability to generate renewable, low-carbon electricity. Photovoltaic (PV) panels absorb sunlight and convert it directly into energy without producing greenhouse gas emissions. They are also relatively low maintenance once installed and can be scaled to meet growing energy demands. Importantly, PV panels are designed to absorb rather than reflect light, meaning they do not intensify sunlight or create dangerous levels of heat. This makes them generally safe for wildlife flying overhead.

However, solar farms are not without their downsides. Large installations require significant land, which can disrupt natural habitats and alter local ecosystems. While the reflected light from panels is not harmful, it can sometimes create a “lake effect,” where birds mistake the shiny surfaces for water and attempt to land. This can lead to disorientation or minor injury, though it is not caused by heat or magnified sunlight.

There are also rarer forms of solar energy generation, such as concentrated solar power systems, which use mirrors to focus sunlight. These can produce extremely high temperatures and pose risks to birds flying through concentrated beams.

While solar farms offer clear environmental benefits, it is important to consider additional concerns that are often part of the wider conversation. One such issue is the environmental impact of manufacturing solar panels. The production process can involve energy-intensive methods and the use of potentially hazardous materials, raising questions about the full lifecycle footprint of the technology. Although improvements are ongoing, these upstream impacts are not always visible when assessing solar as a “clean” energy source.

Another challenge lies in disposal and replacement. Solar panels have a lifespan of around 25–30 years, after which large volumes of waste may need to be managed. Recycling infrastructure is still developing, and the cost and complexity of safely handling older panels can present both environmental and financial burdens.

The financial aspect is also significant. While long-term energy savings can be substantial, the initial investment for large-scale solar farms remains high. This can affect land use decisions, particularly in rural areas where agricultural land may be repurposed. In some cases, this shift can impact farming practices and local food production, as productive land is taken out of traditional use.

There are also concerns about the broader ecological footprint. Large installations can disrupt habitats, alter soil conditions, and change how land is managed. Additionally, solar farms are not immune to extreme weather. Storms, high winds, and hail can damage panels, leading to costly repairs and potential environmental risks if materials are released.

Taken together, these factors highlight the importance of careful planning and continued innovation to ensure solar energy develops as sustainably as possible.

Overall, solar farms remain a valuable tool in the transition to sustainable energy, but thoughtful planning is essential to minimize environmental impacts.

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Please Comment Below – And Check Out The Other Posts & Pages On This Blog – Thank You … Pete…

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#TheWiseGardenerSays:

Almost everyone romanticises over ‘The Countryside’ without realising that ‘Farming’ created what we see NOW! – And as everyone ‘should know’ – is that Farmers are among the Hardest-Working Folk on God’s Green Earth – Humbling! – Is The Keyword Here! …..

 

 

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“STOP!” cried the gardener, weathered and spare,
Romanticising fields won’t make them fair.
You dream of meadows dipped in gold,
But soil is stubborn, harsh, and cold.

You paint the hills in softened light,
Ignore the frost that bites at night.
You sing of lambs and morning dew,
But not the work we must push through.

The hedgerows hide more thorns than grace,
The wind will slap you in the face.
The boots you wear will sink in clay,
And charm won’t wash the grime away.

Humbling! That is the lesson here,
Not all is quaint, not all is dear.
The countryside does not perform,
It shapes you slow through toil and storm.

You’ll blister hands on bramble and rake,
And lose more crops than you will take.
The rain won’t care about your plans,
It soaks the hope from eager hands.

The sunrise glows, yes, that is true,
But rises over labour too.
Each golden beam that warms the land
Still finds a tool in every hand.

So shed the dream that all is peace,
For nature does not grant release.
It asks for patience, grit, and spine,
And takes its due in blood and time.

Yet in that truth, a deeper grace—
An honest, unadorned embrace.
Not polished myth, nor painted scene,
But life that’s raw and fiercely keen.

So stop, step back, and understand,
This is no gentle, idle land.
Respect the ground beneath your feet—
Its beauty’s real because it’s not sweet.

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Copyright © Peter Moring  2026

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#thewisegardener #gardener #garden #farm #farmer #farming

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#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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Please Comment Below – And Check Out The Other Posts & Pages On This Blog – Thank You …

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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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**The Kling-On PM**

‘The Kling-On-PM’ – He Has No Power – No Morals – No Ethics – No Integrity – No Honesty – No Loyalty – No Faith – But is intent on dragging his Nation to the ‘Pit-Of-Hell’ To hand over his Nation to the highest Socialist Bidder, Lock-Stock-And Barrel – With no conscience to bother him because of his psychotic disability

 

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In marble halls he wears a borrowed crown,
A paper king in tattered, thin renown.
He thunders loud yet stands on hollow ground,
Where truth is lost and conscience can’t be found.

No power in the pulse behind his hand,
No moral compass pointing through the land.
No ethics lighting lanterns in the night,
No integrity to guard the right.

No honesty to steady what he swore,
No loyalty to those he led before.
No faith in roots that held the nation fast,
Just shifting shadows from a broken past.

He chants of progress, painted bold and bright,
While dimming every steadfast, guiding light.
He bargains futures, lock and stock and steel,
And signs away His Nation’s ideal.

He courts the bidder with the fattest purse,
And calls the bargain anything but curse.
The highest hand becomes his chosen guide,
As heritage is quietly set aside.

He trims the sails to any passing gale,
And calls retreat a visionary tale.
The pit he digs is lined with gilded lies,
A velvet drop beneath unwatchful eyes.

He speaks of dawn while drawing down the sun,
Proclaims the race is lost before begun.
A nation’s trust becomes a traded coin,
Its fractured voice too scattered to rejoin.

No conscience knocks upon his guarded door,
No shame seeps through the polished palace floor.
If madness whispers, he mistakes it crown,
And wears delusion like a sacred gown.

He brands dissent as treachery and sin,
Yet hears no riot raging from within.
The people watch the pageant and the flame,
And slowly learn the cost of gilded shame.

For kingdoms fall when leaders lose their core,
And empty hearts demand a little more.
When power masks a void too dark to tell,
The road descends, stone by stone, toward hell.

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Copyright © Peter Moring  2026

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Please ponder on the following story. As if it’s a continuation of the poem above.

 

**The Chancellor of Purgatory **

In the neon-lit capital of Purgatory, beneath a sky webbed with surveillance drones and flickering propaganda streams, our Chancellor assures us that everything is under control.

He says it often.

The banners hanging from the spires of the Ministry glow with slogans about unity, progress, and collective destiny. Holographic choirs recite the virtues of compliance. Meanwhile, the grid falters, the outer districts ration oxygen, and the old Constitution – once etched in titanium beneath the Westminster floor – has been quietly sealed behind bio-metric locks “for preservation.”

The Chancellor did not seize power in a blaze of conquest. He drifted into it – buoyed by spectacle, outrage cycles, and algorithmic applause. In the early days, he promised to stabilize the fractured union. He spoke of healing the rifts between global elites and surface labourers. He promised fairness, redistribution, and a new dawn calibrated by data.

But power, as we are re-learning, is not the same as authority.

Authority rests on trust. On moral ballast. On a willingness to be constrained by something greater than oneself.

Our Chancellor governs as though such constraints are relics of a primitive age.

His cabinet is a revolving door of ‘loyal ideological bidders’. Entire sectors of the economy have been nationalised under the banner of ‘strategic solidarity’ only to be handed off to favoured consortiums whose pledges align neatly with the Ministry’s doctrine. Lock, stock, and whole industries that generations built are now absorbed into a centralized apparatus that answers not to citizens, but to a tightening circle of ‘apparatchiks’.

He calls it optimization.

Critics call it liquidation.

The free press – what remains of it – has been reclassified as ‘destabilising infrastructure’ Independent guilds are audited into submission. Regional mayors who resist policy directives find their security clearances revoked and their reputations shredded by coordinated disinformation swarms.

Through it all, the Chancellor smiles in augmented broadcasts, his voice soulless, his gaze steady. He frames dissent as sabotage. He frames consolidation as compassion. He frames surrender as strategy.

There is something unnerving about the absence behind his rhetoric. No moral hesitation. No public grappling with unintended consequences. When a food-distribution AI malfunction left three counties in blackout and famine, he described it as a “necessary recalibration.” When veterans of past Wars protested the dismantling of their pension system, he suggested their expectations were “outdated artifacts.”

It is not merely policy that troubles many of us. It is the vacuum. Where voices are ignored at best – Or Silenced!

A leader can be wrong and still be grounded in principle. But what happens when principle itself is negotiable? When loyalty flows only upward? When truth bends to expedience? The result is not governance – it is drift – It is an Oligarchy.

And drift, in any space, is dangerous.

Here was once a beacon! – A messy, argumentative, vibrant democracy that spanned continents and colonies. We were imperfect, but anchored. Now, as assets are consolidated and dissent recoded as deviance, the trajectory feels less like reform and more like descent.

No tyrant ever announces a march toward the abyss. They call it renewal. They call it equity. They call it the future.

But if a nation trades its conscience for comfort, its institutions for immediacy, and its liberty for luminous promises projected across the night sky, it should not be surprised to find the ground giving way beneath its feet and Dystopia appearing ever clearly on the horizon.

The question is no longer whether the Chancellor has power.

The question is whether we remember that, ultimately, WE! DO!

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Please Open In Youtube To Follow Along With The Lyrics by Clicking ‘More’ Underneath Each Video ….

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Cloud-Buster Or Climate-Change

You may or may not remember Kate Bush’s ‘Cloud-Busting’ … The ‘Elite’ have been able to control Rain since 1953 … Do You REALLY THINK! All of the rain being experienced in MANY parts of the world just now (February 2026) is all Coincidence! – Or Climate-Change!?

 

Please Click The Image Above – And Follow Along Below:

You may recall Cloud-busting drifting through the air,
A beating heart, a humming wire, a scientist’s prayer.
A machine to pull the rain from a stubborn sky,
To make the storm clouds gather, to make the dry fields cry.

But since nineteen fifty-three, so whispers the tale,
An ‘Elite!’ learned how to tip the atmospheric scale.
To herd the clouds like cattle across the dome of blue,
And loose the floods – where once clear sunlight grew.

Do you really think the deluge is chance alone?
When rivers burst their banks and the wild winds moan?
When many lands are drowning all at once in rain,
Is it climate-Change, or a calculated chain?

They call it change of climate, a warming sphere,
But some cry ‘geo-engineering’ working in the rear.
Political levers pulling thunder’s rein,
Power wrapped in lightning, influence in rain.

Fields once gold with harvest – now sinking in the mud,
Nutrients leached out by a weaponized flood.
Soil turned sour – where the green shoots fail,
And cattle grow thin – where the farmers wail.

Sheep on the hillside with hunger in their eyes,
Watching as another season dies.
Farming collapses from continent to shore,
Barn doors swinging on a hope no more.

Meanwhile the air feels heavy in the chest,
A tightening breath that will not rest.
Lungs inflamed in the dampened breeze,
Whispers of .C.O.P.D. on the coughing seas.

Fungal phantoms ride in misty air,
Invisible spores settling everywhere.
Debilitating infections, silent and slow,
Bloom where the engineered rainfalls go.

Then comes the warning on every screen,
A new declared crisis, unseen.
Pandemic language rolling like drums,
Lockdowns ordered as the darkness comes.

Masks return like a uniformed tide,
Vaccinations mandated far and wide.
And voices rise from a global throne,
Policies etched in bureaucratic stone.

The W. H. O speaks with urgent tone,
Guidelines cast across each zone.
While socialist governments echo the call,
Claiming it’s safety for one and all.

Coincidence, climate, or hidden hand,
A storm of questions sweeps the land.
Between the thunder and the refrain,
We stand and wonder at the falling rain.

Copyright © Peter Moring  2026

 

In 1985, Kate Bush released ‘Cloud-Busting’ — a song inspired by the dream of drawing rain from an empty sky. It told the story of invention, belief, and the audacity to imagine that humanity could influence the weather itself. At the time, it felt poetic, even whimsical. Today, for many people around the world watching unprecedented rainfall patterns unfold, the idea no longer feels like fantasy. It feels unsettlingly plausible.

Across multiple continents, communities are experiencing relentless downpours, catastrophic flooding, and unseasonal storms. Governments and major institutions consistently attribute these events to climate change — a complex, long-term shift in global weather patterns driven largely by industrial emissions. Climate science certainly supports the reality of a warming planet and its destabilizing effects. Yet for some observers, the scale, timing, and concentration of certain weather events raise deeper questions.

The concept of geo-engineering — deliberate, large-scale intervention in Earth’s climate systems — is no longer confined to conspiracy forums or speculative fiction. Academic institutions openly research solar radiation management, cloud seeding, and atmospheric aerosol injection as potential tools to counteract warming. Cloud seeding, in particular, has been in experimental use since the mid-20th century. While typically presented as a method to alleviate drought or enhance snowfall, its existence proves one thing clearly: human beings can, at least to some extent, influence precipitation.

This reality fuels a more troubling suspicion in some circles — that weather manipulation could be weaponized or politically leveraged. Heavy, sustained rainfall can devastate agriculture. When fields are flooded repeatedly, soil nutrients are washed away. Crops fail. Livestock suffer from malnutrition. Local farming economies collapse. Food scarcity increases dependency on centralized supply chains.

Whether intentional or not, extreme weather has undeniable geopolitical consequences. THINK! Bill Gates War Against Farms and Farmers Worldwide, and The UK Net Zero Madness that is prepared to accept and go along with the ludicrous INTENT by Evil Minds.

Simultaneously, prolonged damp conditions can create fertile environments for respiratory illnesses and fungal growth. Increased humidity and mold exposure are known contributors to lung inflammation and chronic conditions such as COPD. In a world already sensitized by recent global health crises, rising illness rates — whatever their cause — can trigger renewed calls for emergency measures. International bodies like the ‘World Health Organization’ – W.H.O. – carry enormous influence in shaping global responses to public health threats, often working in alignment with national governments.

It is important to be clear: there is no verified evidence that a coordinated global program is deliberately engineering rainfall to destroy farms or induce illness. Extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof. However, the growing openness around geo-engineering research, combined with visible climate instability and heightened political polarization, creates fertile ground for public distrust.

What lies at the heart of these concerns is not merely weather — it is transparency. People want assurance that powerful technologies are not being deployed without public knowledge or consent. They want confidence that all crises — environmental or medical — are addressed proportionately and ethically. They want clarity in an era saturated with information yet starved of trust.

Whether one views extreme rainfall as the accelerating consequence of climate change or fears undisclosed manipulation, the deeper issue is accountability. The sky above us feels less predictable than ever. In times like these, open scientific dialogue, independent oversight, and informed public discourse are not luxuries — they are necessities.

Rain has always carried symbolism: renewal, destruction, cleansing, sorrow. Today it also carries questions….. ????

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