Righter Than White

 Charles ‘Horst’ Wessell was so right-wing he’d almost fallen off the human spectrum altogether. Capital punishment, hormone treatment for homosexuals (of which persuasion, hypocritically, he was a roaring example), women all-but lashed to kitchen furniture, the de-abolition of slavery – there really was nothing too right-wing for him. He made Thatcher seem like a political bed-fellow of her nemesis, Arthur Scargill (Wessell thought she should have had all striking miners deported to Van Dieman’s Land, or, failing that, Scotland, which he considered an even worse fate).

Indeed, further, than merely give ‘the whinging Jocks’ their independence, Wessell believed the land of Britain should be cleaved apart physically by some super-heavy cutting machinery, leaving Scotland stranded alone in the cold winds of ‘reality’ with England (and reluctantly, Wales) in the deserving sunshine, isolated and supreme.

He also prided himself on never having read a book. “Nothing to be learned from some perv, lefty author that can’t be learned between the willing thighs of a good woman or a horse” was what he proclaimed at the book group he insisted on joining every Friday night at the local library who’s membership now consisted of only himself and a deaf woman who turned up to save on her heating.

The attractive thing about the far-right is that it has no critical or analytical tendencies. It harks to primitive urges as if the intellectualism of the enlightenment had never occurred. It asks you only to turn up at events and shout violent support for whatever neo-jackboot opportunist that wants to make a few bob selling swastika fridge magnets.

Wessell now had 174 swastika fridge magnets and was hoarse from shouting.

That he was married to twenty-four year-old stunner, Simone O’Foreigner was, to him, no anomaly. Many a good English bigot took a foreign wife. Witness half the Kings of England (granted, not too many of them were actually English) and Sir Nigel Farage who even has a foreign name.

Charles, who had sexual perversions the Earl of Hell himself would blanche that, was proud to be called a white supremacist. The irony was that, like all others of that bigotted persuasion, no-one else could work out what precisely was supreme about him.