Cast Thy Votes Dear Compatriots.

Cast Thy Votes Dear Compatriots.

Story and Photos By Uncle Monty.

Before the polls even opened at seven o’clock sharp on the

morning of the 2oo8 London Mayoral Election, I was already

standing outside my local polling station at The English

Martyrs Parish Hall and Social Club to cast my vote for

Mayor of London. I was the only one there when I first

arrived although five minutes later an elderly

snowwhite-haired Scots lady came with her Official

Poll Card in her hand. She asked me: “Who do you
want to vote for?” I told her tongue-in-cheek: “For

anybody who is homeless.” She roared in laughter at

what I’d jokingly said. I then asked her who she

planned to give her vote to. She whispered in my

ear almost surreptitiously “… B … N … P …” Or the

far right British National Party. I suspect they’ll do

alot better in the present London-wide election than
previously seen. In fact, I have feelings some of the

present minor political parties like the BNP, English

Democrats, UK Independence Party, Left List, Green

Party and what have you, may do alot better than is

so far predicted of them in the British mass news

media and political polls.

So into the polling station I went only to find every polling
official, some 5 or 6 of them, were all African blacks and not

a single white face was there, except the three white voters
now being checked by them to ensure the were lawfully
registered voters. By ten minutes after seven, we were all
out of there having cast our ballots for whoever we wanted
as mayor. The Scots lady asked me who I’d voted for has
we chatted small time outside the polling station once again.
I told her I would not tell her who I had voted for, but that I

would tell her who I had not vote for … “Who … who, deary?

...” she quizzed me like some kind of retired political corres-

pondent for The Scotsman. I told her I didn’t vote for

the present mayor Ken Livingstone, who makes me

livid just to hear his voracious voice and to see his

frazzled face like a jackass to me.

And thousands upon thousands of the folkz voting in
the 2oo8 London Mayoral Election on May 1st, are not

even Londoners by birth or rearing or education. Of those

registered to vote for the Mayor of London, a staggering

1 in 3 of them are so-called “black minorities” that not
only don’t originally come from London but are also not
even British-born. Yet, they can vote en masse and sadly

for Britain they do. And also all of those European

Union (EU) citizens living in London – masses of Poles,

Italians, French, and other Eastern Europeans – can all

cast their votes for London Mayor, who I should point

out is not the same mayor as the Lord Mayor of London.
Many confusingly believe the Mayor of London and
the Lord Mayor of London are the same. They’re not.

I noticed the 12:30PM early edition of The London Evening
Standard declared in its front page headline that Boris Johnson
held the lead over Ken Livingstone. The polls don’t finally close
until 10:00PM, so more than nine or so hours may produce
some markedly different results between the 10 mayoral
candidates with Boris Johnson perhaps just making it
over the imp and incumbent Red Ken.

When I returned several hours later to photograph my

polling station (see caption photo) for this story line, I
saw the two very large black and white “Polling Station”
posters had disappeared off the outside walls and had
presumably been blown away by the wind and rain
of the Election Day. As I photographed, I saw two
black males, with one lame, go into the polling station

and come back out about ten minutes later. I then noticed

four or so old white folkz arriving at the polling station and

they also walked right inside to cast their votes. I was then

saying to myself - “Cast Thy Votes Dear Compatriots” - as

I saw them as elderly British pensioners, like me, who may

indeed be voting for the last time in their lives for mayor

based on their old age and possible death by the next

London mayoral election of four years hence in 2012.

It was the first time in my life that I had ever voted
for a London Mayoral candidate and I felt glad I could.
It is no use complaining about what’s wrong with us,
if we fail to exercise our precious right and liberty to
vote. Yet, I spoke to perhaps three or four young
people who told me their different reasons why they
could'nt or would'nt vote at such an election. I didn’t
buy their reasons and I told them so. Of those other
grown-ups who I enquired of whether they’d voted

or not, I was delighted that most of the six or seven

told me they had already done so or planned to do so

after work on their way home. The power of the

people is only as powerful as the people who

use it. No vote, no power. And no power,

no vote. Think about it …

My image and graphic of John Bird (shown above)

at his London Mayoral Campaign event. He later

quietly and unceremoniously dropped out of the

mayor's race after all that he’d said and done as a
mayoral candidate. John’s chance of winning was

pretty slim to say the least and he knew that, too,

I think. But remember what I said to the Scots lady,
I’d vote for anybody who is homeless. Well, John

Bird is the next best thing as a former homeless man

himself and who is now living off the hog like he has

never been homeless in his life thankz to his own

16-year success as co-founder of The Big Issue,

which I still flog as a”blogging” street vendor

at Covent Garden’s Long Acre.

I will update this piece once I have confirmation
of the winner of this year’s 2oo8 London Mayoral
Election. Also be sure to “Cast Thy Votes Dear

Compatriots” come the next General Election to be

held at sometime between now and the year 2010

at when New Labour’s brickhead and prime minister

Gordon Brown must declare a national election. Un-

like what he did last time, he cannot call it off for fear

he and his crony Labour Party being booted out and

thrashed with a good hiding by the British Electorate.

“Boot The Brickhead,” I say … along with London’s

Red Ken and the whole hideous bunch of England's

New Labour – period.

Faternally, Uncle Monty.

+The Ascension. And also have a

good Mayoral Election Day, 2oo8.

-

>>> WELL DONE BORIS <<<

It's great news to finally see the back of the

jackass Ken Livingstone with Boris Johnson having

now been soundly elected as the next Mayor of

London. It was good news, too, to see the bloody

Labour Party clobbered across the country with

losing close to 330 local government seats in one go.

Bravo, bravo. The beginning of the end is finally

coming for the New Labour cronies of every stripe

that have enacted all things at the expense of all

things British. They've devoured the very life

and fabric of this English nation for their

own political pathology, madness, and curse of

mass immigration, forced national ID cards upon

the people, our continued presence in Iraq and

Afghanistan against the will of the pople,

refused to let us vote for or against the

latest twists and turns on our unvoted

European Union membership, and above all

they've done everything to belittle the

best that is Britain.

-

With classless Red Ken gone, now we have

Blue-Blooded Boris. With New Labour's mass loss,

we'll finally see the end of everything that's

Labour at the next U.K. General Election. All I

can say, is the damn quicker the damn better.

-

So for now, congratulations to Boris

Johnson as the new and welcomed Mayor of

London ... And be sure to grab those keys

to City Hall before old Livingstone can get

upto his old tricks and trash evidence of

corruption there and his bad buddies like

Black Jasper, who under Red Ken got

millions of quids for political pet pro-

jects that were suspect from beginning

to end. Jasper has now been arrested.

Perhaps next it'll be the shyster and

jackass himself the ex-mayor Livingstone?

-

I'm here at Southampton for the May

holiday weekend and at where the Tories

also won against the local labour-controlled

council that has held sway here, I believe,

since 1984 or for close to 25 years. Have

now a good holiday weekend, everybody ...

Uncle Monty, May 3rd, 2oo8.