Autumn Fundraiser 2012, Day Two
This is the second day of our Autumn Quarterly Fundraiser. It is also Tommy Robinson’s thirtieth birthday — the age I’ve always considered as the real beginning of one’s majority. This is where life gets serious. It’s a time for looking back and peering forward.
When Tommy looks back, he sees the Aftermath, the wasteland created in his own life by those in power. The authorities broke his business, took away his computers, harassed his parents in their home, damaged his car, froze his bank account and persecuted him relentlessly. All this for daring to call attention to the things that are deeply wrong in England. All this for demanding that England not to be sold off to its immigrants, that instead Englishmen be permitted to continue to live their proud heritage.
The USSR has moved from Russia to take up residence in England and the rest of the United Kingdom. God help the Brits, and particularly, God help Tommy.
You’re thirty years old today. Hard to believe, isn’t it? Could time have really moved so quickly, carrying you over the white-water rapids of your twenties to this moment? Are you beginning to feel mortal? Many of us are feeling quite mortal for you, even if you’re not.
It’s ironic that your third decade should begin in solitary confinement in Her Majesty’s prison. Given your naturally gregarious nature, this unjust incarceration probably wasn’t in your plans regarding the ways you’d considered to observe the passing of your twenties. Certainly you didn’t think you’d be so utterly alone? In the present moment I doubt it helps much to know that many people all over the world are observing it with you. After all, you can’t see them, nor can they wish you well in person.
Your imprisonment is unjust. We know that quite well, but none of us has any power to help change what is happening to your country or to you. We are hard put to stave off the damage to our own sovereign states. The system under which you live has become increasingly sovietized and impersonal, and you have become an impediment in the rapidly increasing process to make all of you the same.
You’re too much of an individual, Tommy. You’re ornery; you stick your neck out too far. If they cannot crush you and shove you back into line, you will jeopardize the project of leveling everyone into a predictable, passive and manageable sameness.
The one I think of today is your mother. This must be a desperately sad time particularly for her, this first birthday without you. No matter how old our children get their birthdays remain important. That’s a day you and she share in particular, and her memories of your arrival into the world — your first breath, the first time she held the surprising weight of you — are imprinted on her heart. That is why being forced to miss the beginning of your third decade must indeed be a sad occasion, though not nearly so sad as the uncertainty she experiences at not knowing how many more she will be forced to miss.
As many others do, I have the urge to give you something meaningful to mark the occasion, something that would cheer and comfort you, something you could cherish, and above all, something that no one could take away.
As it happens, I do have one small token to offer. Until the Baron told me it was your birthday I hadn’t thought of it as a gift, but now I see it fits perfectly for the occasion. Indeed, it is synchronous, because I received this same gift when I was just your age. It has proved to be of immense value in my own life and I hope it can be such a gift in yours.
One thing is certain: should you find this as useful as I have, then no amount of sorrow or loss can take it from you. You’ll find it an excellent companion no matter where you are or who is oppressing you.
I stumbled upon the efficacy of this prayer by accident. Subsequently, it was to grow on me and within me as the circumstances of my life changed. There have been many paths, some of which I could only see in retrospect. But no matter which road I chose, or which one seemed to choose me, the psalm stayed with me, always there in one form or another.
Let me present the psalm to you first, and then I’ll attempt to explain how it has functioned in my life. No doubt you know this one already, but here I’m asking that you learn to “know” it in a different way, a way that suits your coming of real age as you turn thirty. This version here is my own, though not on purpose. It just became itself under the many years’ use it was put to. Nor do I any longer remember what rendering I adapted for myself. Now, after decades of almost daily use, what you see is its current form. If you in turn pick it up as yours, the words will change again as you make it your own. However that turns out, the structure will remain. And it is through this structure I would have you learn by heart what the Psalmist was praying all those thousands of years ago: