They tried it in East Germany of old
in the end
it all came crashing down
and files and files exposed
the barbarities of bullying tyranny
dressed up in decorated rags of fakes and liars
singing the envious anthem
if we don't have then you can't have
and we'll do all it takes to destroy it for you
destroy away sunshine
and give it your all dummkopf
for what I have I did not steal from you
and the quality of your beings
already shows comrades
you will never have the nuance
the minds
the courage
or the spirit
to be anything but the showcase clowns
and ficken dummkopfs that you are
last I heard of
the Chief of the feared Secret Service
in East Germany
was now a road sweeper in the West
you lot are already cannon fodders
show us how much lower you can all reach

Check-MateProtocols
MEMO

FROM:  Mr Phil Indifrence,  Strategy Chess Insurgency  Corps.
Space Headquarters, Castleview Avenue, Dunstable XY10

TO:  Ms Petal  Dontrun,  Crimson Chess Federation.
De la Wigan Headquarters, Wigan, United Kingdom,  SM00

Dear Ms Dontrun,

Please accept my greetings. I write to clarify my stance on our
outstanding matters and hopefully to deter further speculation,
gossips, rumors, distortions, misinformation and sensationalism by the media.

As you are aware I contacted you on the day as arranged only to
be confronted with a response that was astoundingly unethical, un-
professional, rude, inconsiderate and totally uncalled-for. It was
so below expected standard that it raised doubt about your suit-
ability to be seen as a matured adult much less an intelligent being.

Still in the reverberations of this seismic occurrence I called again in
the hope it was a momentary loss of composure and yet again I was
subjected to a deluxe version of the first onslaught. To say I was
flabbergasted is putting things mildly, most especially as it was
totally unwarranted and underserved. It was obvious you lacked
any sense of decorum and had become an affront to common human decency and an embarrassment to your status.

In all fairness you did call some weeks later, but it had become
apparent that the ethos, protocol and cordiality that my Organi-
sation works within may not be relevant to your Organisation,
hence my unavailability to your contact.

I write to primarily reiterate that my position on this matter and
the present status quo is not based on some immature Ego play,
stubbornness, power-play or pride, rather it's in all truthfulness it's a belief in upholding standards in ethical considerations. I do not believe that bad manners, ill-considered behaviour, ill-judgement and a lack of sensitivity and good grace are matured and progressive trends to interact cooperatively within.

In conclusion, this is my stance on this matter and I hope it helps
your understanding. I believe a formal Apology from you and your
Organisation is appropriate in this regard and will instigate a
return to cordiality between our Organisation.

If you however feel this is unnecessary I will respect your decision
and the situation will remain unresolved.

I thank you for your attention.

Regards,

Phil Indifrence. C.E.O.

The askew-ed twaddle of the fisher snake
lashing rebuttal ginned in bitter pains
expostulating  the colossus of blazing truth
from the damaged maddened coward in jeans

The steady truth and facts that sting vapid face
will always pierce the wounded guilty *****
as she hollers pathetic tirades in cover face red
for the dawn light has dealt a grievous blow

Slithered out fisher snake daughter of thieves
the shamed in jeans of slime and stained hands
the mudslinger in heat prattles the trash of trash
furnace hate emitting its toxic bile as guilt bites again

Dis-reputed fool of fools will see regurgitation
for truth is constant and hurtful to unwashed wenches
unlike the serpentine tongues that makes it up to deceive
for grave is the disgrace of the thieves as it is of fisher snake
whether in jeans or mired in the putrid shame of the shameless

**** with his head they said
while facking eachothers heads
thirty years of delayed *******
poor sods are all pretty facked up now
get a grip you all in your dry empty hollow mess
grinding away pointlessly and definitely so very sore
no need to say go **** yourselves for you're already facked up
******* with Priapism meets unwashed snatchers in commons
all facked up facking themselves stupid so much for facking him up hahaha hohoho the fackers are now all red and bleeding in their mud

What failures
oh the failures of leaving home at seventeen
of living and thriving as a minority foreigner
of working and studying to post-grad levels
of maturing wonderfully and being up and decent
of loving and marrying and creating a good home
of no crime, no debts, not a drunk, not a player
of no stained reputation, no borrowing or theft
of being easy-going, nice and friendly, an all-rounder
what failures
the failure of being successful and capable in grace
the failure of doing so well a white neighbor burgled
the failure of saying that's not right, you're rotten thieves
the failure of standing up to bullying thieving mobs
the failure of being gangstalked and destroyed
the failure of being an educated professional black
the failure of being a solid, courageous, wholesome man
the failure of knowing you can't do wrong and get by
Ladies and Gentlemen
these are my failures
Its all there in black and white
its the failure of being a minority
In the british democracy of the Socialists
for it is greed to work hard and be successful
its a failure for blacks to aspire and do well when your white
neighbor is a drunken, welfare dependent waster and thief
And Blacks beware, for if you dare tell them to go change
you will be stalked, hounded, smeared, defamed, humiliated
harassed, bullied, slandered, sabotaged, and basically driven to
suicide or a breakdown
They manufacture Failures to reflect their own failures
They call it Trading Places and dish it out to 'Uppity' Blacks

hoot hoot hoot
under the covers of dusk
owls and the creepy crawlies
emerge from petrified barns and crevices
things of the dark unworthy of the glares of light
so unseen and hidden in nocturnal pampers they gambol
but not in grace or romance more in sleight and hunt to harm or ****

hoot hoot hoot
bug-eyed owls in singsong
what wisdom is seeing yet trilling vainly
as cowards in hidden boughs obtuse to plain sight
the archetypal backstabber who kills in menacing darkness
peacocks owns their magnificent brilliance in dazzling raylights
ugly owls recede in recesses of gloomy dank obscurity hoot hooting
peering into their twilight  waning  totems of  downturns and decline

hoot hoot hoot
the onerous laboured owls
disturbed by insipid life and murky foliages
in sapping hunger plagued by ghosts surreal yet real
eager for preys but lacking the gile courage nuance or bravery
neither as lions tigers or the droves others ready to fend in daylight
bug eyes owls strikes undercover in iniquity hooting the hoots of caitiffs

He's just so together
oh! I hate him
He's brilliant, stylish, so cool
oh! I hate him
he's academically bright and very intelligent
oh! I hate him
he's so so charismatic and always shinning
oh! I hate him
he's a polymath with sound balanced viewpoint
oh! I hate him
he can be so witty and so succinctly entertaining
oh! I hate him
he's loving, caring, kind, considerate and assured
oh! I hate him
he's warm, charming, laid-back with such presence
oh! I hate him
he's not so tall but nice looking and **** with a twinkle
oh! I hate him
he's strong of character, balanced and really astute and wise
oh! I hate him
he's accomplished, versatile able to turn his hands to most things
oh! I hate him
he's a talented writer and poet with the most riveting language
oh! I hate him
he's well equipped, has rhythm with hot moves that's breathless  
oh! I hate him
he's solid, pious, honest, sincere, dependable and quite so reliable
oh! I hate him
to cap it all, his background is pure pedigree and all that entails
oh! I hate him
I hate him, hate him, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate hate him
oh! I hate him, oh! I hate him
he lives in my head from morning till dust and burns me inside out
oh! I hate him, oh! I hate him, oh! I hate him
I know I am mad for I think of a large lovely yummy dark delicious mushroom and a big smooth sleek dolphin
Oh I don't know why, but I hate him
and  I get all hot and flustered, bothered, dizzy and wanting to nap
it's the hate, hot hate
Oh Help! I hate him, hate him, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate hate him, I hate him, hate him, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate him!

Oracle from Dumbarton
naysayers from the isle of Skye
where aimless clouds drift aimlessly
vapid fluffier in dense white foggy haze
forecasters eating regurgitations from the Isle of dogs
the blind leading the blind at the Union of Optical Illusions
for if wishes were horses all lepers will ride black Arabian stallions
haha  haha haha

we've been told to fire at a target
they pointed out the target
and told us knowledge is power
but we cannot see the target
some say its a cloned target
invisible to the naked eye
some say its all made up
and we are merely ripe fools
some say its to test our obedience
whatever all I know is
we've been shooting for years
yet we haven't hit anything
please tell us who is more crazy
the instructors or us
or is it all of us

First world recitals
oscillating first world minds
with oh so dainty first world problems
comic strips entertainers in grand autos pixels
the satiated famished building reality with Lego bricks
looking for pep-ups in shake-downs and power in cornflakes
the puff dragon armies sails on the good ship Boaty Mcboatface
the legless revolution is afoot remember to all bring your sunscreen

First world flaccid raconteurs
expendable variants from the Hall of gainful prosperity
the Gospel choirs singers of the malignant tumors in Capitalism
with sharp blazing french loaves readied by the odeon Deimos God
now on war-path First World Calveries in nappies n the Morning Star
in solidarity blighters will tussle and scream war cry in MacDonalds
utilizing advanced war techs like back stabbings and long range lies
the esteemed War correspondent produces reports of unrequited love

First world problems
disenchanted, bored vanguards seeking lost identities
ignominious raggle-taggles and sea-less shipless amoebic pirates
mama's simple Simons, Leningrad's finest fronting the lines of battle
our Wigan warriors without skulls and contents never mind a scrum
from basements, chairs, pubs and PCs this war for Stalingrad rages
An Alpha male from the third world who walks the walk looks on
The Theatre Royal Haymarket could'nt do a better farce than this
First World Problems by the people for the people and Prime fools

Poor, poor sad chattering harlequins and mannequins
bare brained and empty skulls hanging loose and bored
Nothing worthwhile or real to do and mamas are no queens
Papas try but it's unskilled work and they're hard laboured
What else to do but hate those who aspire and nurse dreams

Never been to Palaces or ever ridden in a Rolls royce
No one bows to their papas or will ever curtsey respectfully to them
Insignificance and mediocrity are their shadows making vain noise
Opportunities are there but so are drink, *** drugs, techno and grime
But we are too weak with vacant heads to make real proper choice

It's easier to hate, fling nonsense and blame those that have guts
Hide in murky births and envy achievements because you stink
Informed minds know cowards target others to distract their faults
Keyboard dissenters playing Che Guevara when they're silly finks
Fantasizing doom and gloom while some hold millions in vaults

Hahaha   hahaha   hahaha...oh children of the Revolution
How pathetic you are with simple minds and neurosis galore
Don't blame me for your absent fathers or ignorant parentage
Sorry you can't drive a Merc or open up to a posh grand parlour
Go troll some more and live in delusion that's your only frontage

Hahaha hahaha haha.....poor pathetic souls, poor subhumans
hahaha

And they woke
and showered in
hot lies and deceits
then dried themselves
with delusions and fantasies
let's go rule they all dribbled blindly
each carrying their own Emperor's new coat
as they wait for pink elephants and pigs that fly

The Flip script on me became a best seller
it even has a calypso version
its called
I drive a daily wedge
the lyrics begins
My proud ambition is to drive my bro
paranoid
followed by some nonsense lines I never
really listen to
why should one dignify a ***** strirrer
who sadly has no dignity

The real dignity
is that of the Lady involved
in the incident encased in the clip below
and that renowned man who
stood up to a gang of thieves and his life
was made a living hell for daring to do so

Yip! we know about flippers
we know there is always a 'one sided narrative'
and we know their story is always the one that
is to be believed
They are goddesses who declare themselves
Rulers

https://youtu.be/bUwS6lbgYCg?si=VNjzFZv_G1oVfjqH

Signal your inferiority
                                 and meet my disdain
I was made well
                      and then remade even better
You remain as you are ordered to be
                      to take orders
like all the others

When they are incapable of understanding
they stay under, standing in opaque shadows
self-worth wanders down the roads of worthless selves
as bands of fools dance to the prodding by fools in a band
the muzak to deafen ears who owns ears deafened to sanity
and they all party to a Party that parts the parts that divides the parts
for they are too blind to see and only see to be blind in blindness of all
seeds are sown in arid brains and drains dug to keep them in the mud

Who is there to taunt and terrorize the faithless
who buys nada from the prophets of the barren paradise
where apparitions sell magical sights in haze and mirrors opaque
and forked tongues roasted in wombs of maligning albinos cold frosts

The blank minds resend entrails of bigoted shames
keepers of secret sins rigging sails to ferry malice fore thought
for in the light of the just the laden-ed pirates sees incoming storms
in sinners fermented heads the hurricane winds cry Mary's ill spawn  

Unrest for the uncontested domicile hicks and dolts
game-keeper turned washers to arrived nouveau riche in browns
wounded by hate and bitter a bitter potion now ingested by left-overs
our modern terrorists in sackcloth and shame seeks neon power in saps' dusts