Have you noticed tensions rising? It seems as if every tension on earth lately is gaining altitude. It’s becoming a real problem, and mostly because people like you aren’t relinquishing quickly enough to people like them. The result is one big tension trebuchet. And everyone is getting hit.
Consider a personal example: if I try to caulk your sinus cavities and you don’t let me, we’re almost certain to face rising tensions. It won’t be pleasant for either of us, and we both have you to thank for that. The situation is no different on a societal scale. Just look at Greece.
Tensions rise between Greeks and refugees
Tempers boil over in the Chios ‘buffer zone’ camp for asylum seekers
What do you imagine is causing these rising tensions? A million foreign parasites landing like a plague of cicadas on an already economically struggling country? No idiot. Tensions are rising because…oh hell, I’ll just go ahead and tell you.
a Kafkaesque snare of rules and go-slow procedures aimed at killing hope and…deterring new migrants from attempting the sea crossing to Greece.
See? Bloodless Europeans have erected a Kafkaesque(!) thicket of go-slow rules, when they could have built a maglev train from Kabul to Paris by now. And do you know why they haven’t made migration go fast? Because the aim of white families in Vienna is to kill hope, that’s why. Just as my hope was to fill your head with silicon gel–and you killed that too, you duplicitous shit.
Here’s some more color commentary on that European abattoir of hope.
The mutilated rabbit on the doorstep was the latest warning. A fortnight of menacing incidents, including a smash-and-grab break-in and glue in the locks, culminated this week with the dead animal left in front of the building. The message was clear: the refugee kitchen was not welcome in Chios.
The Greek island of 50,000 has hosted about 2,500 asylum seekers since the EU in March signed its refugee deal with Turkey, and tempers are fraying. A tranquil place of mastic trees and secluded beaches, Chios has become a cauldron of frustration for locals and migrants alike.
None more so than in the village of Chalkios, home to the Basque-run refugee kitchen and minutes from the Vial asylum camp, set up in an old factory among olive groves.
“The intimidation is increasing day by day. A lot of people from the village hate us,” says Daniel Rivas of the Zaporeak-Sabores kitchen, run by Spanish volunteers and turning out 1,400 meals a day. “At the beginning the Greeks were helping. They’re not fascists or anything. But they’re not with the refugees like before. They’re against them now.”
Yes, Daniel Rivas of the Basque-run refugee kitchen, the Greek people hate you. Vividly. And at a rapidly approaching point even the grandmothers will look at you with murder in their eyes. A prudent man would accept these signals as gracious warnings to cease. Though a prudent man wouldn’t be toiling to turn the Camp of the Saints into non-fiction either.
But it’s not only those Spaniards making war on the Greeks who seem dazzled by the ancient instinctual reactions of invaded man. The enemy sappers themselves can’t seem to fathom what’s the hold-up.
“Only God knows how long I’ll wait,” says Hamid Hagadust, a Tajik from Afghanistan who had been on the island for six months…”I’ve reached the end. My kids call from Sweden saying ‘are you coming?’ I have to say ‘Daddy has no money’.”
Hamid Hagadust has had quite enough. First his family was forced to flee the Syrian war in Tajikistan after Assad ordered his fighter jets five countries east to attack the Central Asian Vakhsh River Valley. Next his wife and children inadvertently set off without him 2,626 miles west to Stockholm of all places, as was certainly not the intent of Hamid.
But now since there are no outbound flights from Scandinavia (or rail service, Uber?) Mr. Hagadust is obliged to seek reunion in the only place it is available: the most lucrative white welfare sanctuary in the world. This is strictly coincidence.
Perhaps once Aleppo in Syria is pacified the family will feel safe enough to return to Dushanbe in Tajikistan. Though I understand tensions are also rising in southern Nigeria and so that may simply not be feasible. Swedish taxpayers and their preyed upon children will certainly understand.
Strangely enough some stalled Syrians are also coming to understand.
Some rue ever making the journey. Maha Abdi, a Kurdish Syrian, arrived recently knowing nothing of the legal obstacles in Chios. With her husband and four children, she shares half a container with broken air-conditioning. “I wouldn’t have come if I’d known it was this hard,” she says, washing clothes at a shared tap. “We really regret it. We should have stayed in Syria.”
I’m sorry the Greeks haven’t provided more appealing accomodations, Maha Abdi. If it’s any solace they were even less hospitable during the Persian encroachments than they have been thusfar during this one. Though that may be changing.
And that is one of many reasons you are right to realize you should have stayed home. If not Syria, then two separate semi-autonomous Kurdish areas were within camel range. Those are where you belong. Not in Europe, and not in Tennessee. You will find tensions rising quickly in both. And your hopes are not our priority.