A few days ago she surfaced somewhere in Central Europe – Bosnia or such like – reporting on the Syrian migrants as they make their way up to the land of milk and honey, which we call Germany.
The hair and make-up were immaculate, the clothes too were designer brands, all very swish. But enough of the migrants, let us return to Miss Bruce. Stood in a field somewhere in deepest, darkest Bosnia the lady was full of sorrow, full of compassion.
She told of harrowing journeys; journeys made on the highways of Europe as people searched for ‘a better life.’ The voice was set at a perfect pitch; it was tender, heartfelt and sorrowful. It was a textbook stuff. The lady is a true pro, I’ll give her that.
Clad in her official BBC ‘in the field’ khaki shirt, she pouted away at the camera. Occasionally the smoother-than-smooth brow furrowed, as she related tales of how CHILDREN (eyes wide, deep sigh) had trekked miles and miles through the barren wastes of Europe, a landscape so inhospitable that Miss Bruce and her BBC acolytes had been forced to stay in a 5-star hotel – much against their wills.
It was worth it; The BBC got a polished performance. With her generosity of spirit, Bruce shamed an entire nation. After watching this pouting routine I felt thoroughly ashamed of myself, sick in fact. I was listless. I walked around my home on the point of self-flagellation. Miss Bruce had done the trick. I was forced to ask myself some very searching questions: chiefly, why the hell do I pay a licence fee to these purveyors of propaganda who call themselves journalists?
I went to bed with heavy heart. I couldn’t get the image of that waxwork face with its fixed expression of compassion out of my head. Poor Fiona. How her heart was bleeding. Like her colleagues at the BBC and their close friends at The Independent, all the woman wants to do is help others less fortunate than herself. That’s all. Nothing more.
That’s all any of them want to do: ease the suffering of others. Invite hundreds of thousands of unchecked migrants into the UK were they can ‘build a better life for themselves.’ Bless their hearts.
Only when Bruce and friends say ‘build a better life,’ they don’t necessarily mean in leafy Hampstead where the TV presenter lives in a splendid multi-million pound property. In fact Bruce doesn’t mean ‘build’ at all. Well, not in her neighbourhood – Middlesbrough yes; Tower Hamlets yes; but not in Hampstead.
It transpires that someone is trying to build a block of flats – flats next door to Miss Bruce’s splendid Hampstead property. Only the telly presenter isn’t too happy. In fact she is severely cross. The proposed flats she claims, should they ever be built, will spoil her family’s ‘peace and tranquillity.’ Apparently said flats will overlook the lady’s own garden. Shock! Horror!
But hold on a moment. Isn’t this the same women inviting hundred and thousands of migrants to the UK? The same women pouting from Bosnia, attempting to send the UK population on a guilt trip? Isn’t this woman part of a compassionate, elite who wish to clothe, feed, educate and house the whole world?
Well I have some news for Fiona Bruce and her ilk: These people will need to live somewhere, very likely London. It may come as a surprise to such a well-heeled member of the media set, but outside the confines of the nanny-infused streets of Hampstead, the UK is experiencing a housing crisis that is nothing short of critical.
Never mind all that; Bruce and her media friends are a compassionate crowd. London can cope. The UK can cope. All we have to do is build more homes… oops. Oh dear. There’s that dreaded word again – ‘build.’ Sure, build all you want, build in Middlesbrough, build in Lambeth, build anywhere only don’t build in Hampstead, right Fiona?
Like all her bleeding heart counterparts dig beneath the talking, the gesturing and the posturing you’ll find nothing but self-interest and contradiction. It’s all too easy for the likes of Bruce to call for mass immigration into the UK, even easier to jump on the bleeding heart bandwagon and offer your up your own bed to others. A different matter altogether to act.
I don’t believe for one minute that Bruce wants mass immigration into the UK any more than the next person. Like many others she wears but a mask – a mask of compassion, one that must be worn in order to preserve one’s place on the media and political gravy train.
If Bruce is truly worried about the plight of migrants she would have no objections to necessary building work in her own neighbourhood. For those of us who watch in amazement as Bruce and co attempt to alter the fabric of British society for ever, it has to be said that the irony is delicious.
Oh yes, one day these half-baked, knee-jerk decisions are going to come home to roost as sure as night follows day. And it’s starting already. Poor Bruce. Until now she thought that immigration was a game, a way to consolidate her place on the lucrative left wing feeding trough, where she sits with human rights’ lawyers, BBC executives and a whole host of other self-interest, media apologists.
Oh dear. It seems that it’s not just the ordinary folk of the UK whose lives will be altered for ever by left wing propagandists. Fiona Bruce has started to feel the pinch too!!! It’s a slippery slope…
Building new lives? All well and good. Just as long as you don’t build them anywhere near the back gardens of the Fiona Bruces of this world.
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