THE PIKEY QUESTION

In my article on the campsite as Pioneer Little Europe, I mentioned in some way emulating the lifestyle of Irish gypsies. These Pikeys also cropped up in Hilaire Belloc's article 'On Inns' in a rather romantic light and I do not wish the readers of this blog to think I have any time for these ne'er-do-wells. I do, however, believe there are lessons to be learned from their lifestyle, both for good and ill, and these are what I wish to explore here.

As I mentioned in my article, Pikeys have been gaining a presence at the elite level of boxing, and two weekends ago saw one of their number, WBO middleweight world champion Billy Joe Saunders, defend his belt against Black American Willie Munroe Jnr. The fight itself was a mundane affair, with Saunders winning on points. What went on around the bout was more interesting. Saunders was his usual self in the press conferences and weigh in: insulting, trash talking, belittling - the seamier side of boxing. Then, during the weigh-in, Saunders' son, obviously with instructions from his father, went up onto the stage and punched Munroe in the groin. The post-match entertainment consisted of the assembled gypsies attacking people in the crowd.

I have had chance to observe various types of gypsies over the years. My family has always been very friendly with a family of fairground owners, who are very decent people and are nothing to do with the Irish travellers or Indian gypsies who cause so much trouble. Indeed, just a few years ago, Barnsley was one of the last big towns in Yorkshire where one could go out and enjoy a beer at the weekend without facing 'enrichment' or 'diversity'. It is now a ghost town. What changed? What changed was that a Pikey camp grew in nearby Darfield. Over the last few years, it has expanded and expanded and the Pikeys have now even bought fixed property there.


The younger adults of the camp go out to the local pubs and to Barnsley and basically cause trouble. Typically, they pick on people either alone or in a group much smaller than their own. A typical trick is that one of their women will walk over to a man wearing a gold chain and ask him to dance with her. A previously unseen burly Pikey will then march over and accuse the man of trying to steal his girlfriend and start a fight with him. Others will then also join in who have been standing in various areas of the pub, and in the ensuing melee, the man's gold chain will disappear. The police, as ever, will not want to get involved, protected as Pikeys are as an 'ethnic minority'. The victim will therefore be left robbed, beaten, humiliated and betrayed. Little wonder, then, that the pubs have emptied.

The stereotype portrayed in Alan Bleasedale's 1978 Play for Today 'The Blackstuff' is also an accurate one. Pikey's have always been con artists and thieves. No one in their right mind would employ them to lay 'the black stuff' on their drive. Ironically, Bleasedale, an active Leftist, could be charged with a hatecrime, were he to write such a script today. Instead, they have to be romanticised, like in Guy Ritchie's Snatch, Ritchie of course coming from an affluent family who never had to deal with them. The scenes of the Pikey camp in the film are noteworthy for the camp's uncharacteristic cleanliness.

However, there are valuable lessons to be learned here: given each Pikey camp's clannishness, they are difficult to break down. It is virtually impossible pick off one of them on their own - because they are never on their own. They also have a good healthy disrespect for the law in this day and age and are a law unto themselves. The police will rarely even investigate them. And this means the systemic child rape by Muslims against White girls will never happen to them - at least not unless Britain becomes an Islamic state, which of course is a very real threat.

When Billy Joe Saunders fought Willie Munroe Jnr, Munroe was the perfect gentleman and asked Jesus to forgive Saunders for his sins. Seriously. Munroe broke all the Negro stereotypes of being loud, brash, disrespectful and arrogant. He also lost. The Saga of Gunnlaug Wormtongue tells of a duel to the death between Gunnlaug and Hrafn over the affections of Helga. Gunnlaug severs Hrafn's leg during the duel and Hrafn, realising he will bleed to death, asks of Gunnlaug a last request, a drink of water, which Gunnlaug duly brings. Seizing his chance, Hrafn stabs him, killing him, saying his will die happy knowing Gunnlaug will never have Helga either. 

It is a lesson from our Pagan forebears that Pikeys have not forgotten and it is this: there is no such thing as a fair fight. Even between two combattants, one will always be stronger or quicker or more skillful or more resourceful. Some say one should not kick a man when he is down. My father taught me never to let him get back up, for he will be angry and want revenge. "Du mußt Amboß oder Hammer sein," as Goethe reminds us. There are only winners and losers in a fight, and even if one loses, one can make sure one's opponent loses too. But it is always better to be on the winning side, especially if losing means the extinction of one's entire race.