Although he is a Candian native, Cory's family came from the Soviet Union: he asked his grandmother why she didn't stay there.
I asked her why she didn't stay, and she shook her head like I'd asked the stupidest possible question. "It was the Soviet Union", she said. She waved her hand, groped for the answer. "Papers," she said, finally. "We had to carry papers. The police could stop you at any time and make you turn over your papers." The floodgates opened. They spied on you. They made you spy on each other. Your grandfather wouldn't have been allowed to stay – he was Polish, they wouldn't let him stay with the family in Russia, he'd have to go back to Poland.
Cory then moved to Britain, where he found—as Bella has—that his status here is at the whim of the disgusting, petty, spiteful little cunts in government, responding to the BNP dog-whistle morons who populate this green and increasingly unpleasant land.
A few years later, I was living with my partner, and had fathered a British daughter (when I mentioned this to a UK immigration official at Heathrow, he sneeringly called her "half a British citizen"). We were planning a giant family wedding in Toronto when the news came down: the Home Secretary had unilaterally, on 24 hours' notice, changed the rules for highly skilled migrants to require a university degree. My immigration lawyers confirmed it: people who'd established residence in the UK for years and years, who'd built businesses and employed Britons here, who owned homes and given birth to British children, were being thrown out of the country, taking their tax-payments, jobs and families with them.
My partner and I scrambled. We got married. We applied for a spousal visa. A few weeks later, I presented myself in Croydon at the Home Office immigration centre to turn over my biometrics and have a visa glued into my Canadian passport. I got two years' breathing room. My family could stay in Britain.
Then came last week's announcement: effective immediately, spousal visa holders (and foreign students) would be issued mandatory, biometric radio-frequency ID papers that we will have to carry at all times. And I started to look over my shoulder.
Yes, that's right. And why should immigrants have to do this? They are easy targets, of course. I am now caught up in a similar situation: I am in a relationship—and have been for some time—and the continuance of that relationship is at the whim of bureaucrats and filthy, disgusting, morally bankrupt politicians and the filthy, disgusting, morally bankrupt morons who elect them.
I have seen, at first hand, the second-rate status accorded to those who want to live and work here, and the callousness with which their situation is dealt with. I have seen the way in which this country deals with immigrants, and I dislike it intensely.
Every one of these measures was beta-tested on less-advantaged groups before it was rolled out to the general public.
It is, quite simply, a divide et impera tactic and it is one that I, as a positive libertarian who believes that we are all human, find morally repugnant.
I have constantly pointed out that all of these measures tested on minority "undesirables" will be applied to us sooner or later—and probably sooner.
CCTVs used the be the exclusive territory of bank vaults and prisons. Network wiretapping and censorship began in schools, "to protect children".
Now, we immigrants are to be the beta testers for Britain's sleepwalk into the surveillance society. We will have to carry internal passports and the press will say, "If you don't like it, you don't have to live here – it's unseemly for a guest to complain about the terms of the hospitality." But this beta test is not intended to stop with immigrants. Government freely admits that immigrants are only the first stage of a universal rollout of mandatory biometric RFID identity cards. What happens to us now will happen to you, next.
No, we aren't seeing people wandering around with yellow stars on their clothing—but we are seeing them forced to get ID cards that we would never wish to carry ourselves. And what do we do?
The conclusion is simple: had the Nazis risen here, we would have not put up any more protest—as our neighbours were taken to the ghettos and then to the death camps—than the Germans did. In fact, we would probably complain less.
As the repulsive general population continue to make shitty jokes about "not mentioning the war", they are blind to the fact that—had it happened here—they would have been happy to hassle those Jews onto the cattle trucks.
Because, as our own pogrom happens, I hear not a fucking spark from the "great British public". They are too busy devouring Coronation Street to care.
We are encouraged to spy on our neighbours and report their suspicious activity. We can be stopped and searched with no particularised suspicion, and during these searches, police officers can and do examine such things as the books we're reading and the personal notes we've made.
This country is dead as a free nation—when an article about a fundamentally unimportant subject such as computer OSes can get more comments than anything about civil liberties, it is an indication of the intellectual paucity of our citizens—yes, even the bien pensant of the blogosphere.
Cory has said that—if nothing changes—he will leave this shithole we call Britain. I don't know if I can do the same—where is there to go?—but for the very first time, I am seriously considering it.
I am ashamed and afraid: I thought that I lived in one of the world's great and tolerant civilisations: over the last few years, I have come to realise that is it simply a gilded cage.
It is why this end to V For Vendetta, desirable though it may be, will never happen.
Nor will the people of Britain walk the streets in masks. Our "respresentative democracy" is just a sympton of the greater malaise—the shits in Parliament simply reflect the shits who elected them.
For every one person who thinks, and evaluates and tries to be just, there are ten thousand ignorant bigots—repulsive in their stupidity and prejudice—whose voice carries far more weight (ten thousand times the weight, in fact) than that of those who can think. It is why this country is such a fucking shithole—because the filth who live in it vastly outnumber those who are decent.
Look out for the yellow stars: the concentration camps will not be far behind. And as their friends and neighbours are carted off to the gulags, then the British people take to the streets.
But it will not be in protest, it will not be to condemn—no, it will be to cheer.