Warsaw: Extreme Left Protest Van

While following the extreme left protests around Warsaw for the last five weeks, I've become more and more curious about the music vans that accompany the pro-abortion ideologue/ringleader, Marta Lempart.

For me, it is the music vans that prompt some disenchanted young adults (often left-wing university students) and bored teenagers (with no school to go to) to traipse round Warsaw in zombie-type states rather than the often foul-mouthed rhetoric of Lempart herself.

On Saturday November 28th, I finally found myself with the opportunity to look at one of Lempart's music vans up close,

while Lempart and her extreme left entourage were trying to create chaos and disorder down near metro Politechnika, just a short stroll outside Warsaw city centre.

Moreover, it gave me the opportunity to see the kinds of characters who work closely alongside Lempart.

Would've loved to have seen what was going on behind the curtains in Lempart's music van, but I guess that her crew would've tried to kill me if I'd poked my head inside.

 Still, members of the Lempart roadshow kept going in and out of the van.

 

 

All the while, Lempart was keeping the crowd 'entertained' with all kinds of speeches and pretend fainting and drama outside.

But her music van crew got concerned that a few members of the crowd were taking more of an interest in the music van itself, and at some point, they felt a need to surround and guard the van.

I think it was a case of a mob on the hunt feeling that they were now the ones being hunted.

And, of course, the music van registration plate was now covered up.

The cardboard placard is a play on Descartes' famous quote, the adaptation here being "I think, I feel, I decide" (my admittedly not too brilliant Polish can come in useful from time to time).

At one point, the music van had Sham 69's 'If the Kids Are United' blaring out. I remember this tune from being an early teenager in the late 1970s in north-west England, it was a big favourite with the Old Trafford football crowd, of course. Lempart's crew used it as a simple mantra for their sheepish crowd to hum and jump along to. This seemed to be the modus operandi of the Lempart crew, playing a kind of Pied Piper role.

Free Soup in Warsaw

Was near Warsaw Central train station, when I saw that free hot soup was being given out to whoever wanted/needed it:

Couldn't work out which organisation was giving out the soup:

But plenty of people, mainly men, were lining up for it:

A Secular Age by Charles Taylor

 I bought Charles Taylor's A Secular Age more or less when it first came out in 2007.

Until recently, I'd just dipped into the book if I'd wanted or needed to look at anything specific. However, now I find myself reading it from cover to cover and the book is absolutely fascinating.

I'm now 100 or so pages into the book, which is kind of telling the story of the change in Western human consciousness from the Catholic worldview of the year 1500 up to the exclusive humanist ideologies of the contemporary world, and how we got there. In other words, the book is showing in massive philosophical and theological detail how medieval people were porous selves open to the magical enchantment of the external world, and how over the last 500 years, people have come to be buffered/ more introverted selves lacking in piety and enchantment. 

So far, Taylor has shown how the growth of the mendicant orders; pre-Reformation unrest; the Reformation; the Counter-Reformation; the detachment of nature/science from religiosity/theology etc. gradually contributed to the growth of what would become the contemporary, buffered, materialist mind. One thing that I found especially interesting is that animals were allowed inside Catholic churches before the Counter-Reformation. Of course, I can't wait to read the rest of the book.

Warsaw: Two Interesting Buildings

Saw the two buildings below just off Ulica Mickiewicza, not far from Mr. Kaczyński’s place:

Haven't got a clue what the wooden structure above is, but it definitely caught my eye.

The picture on the building below looks as if it may be some kind of take on the late David Bowie:

My Strong Curry

 This curry turned out to be far hotter than I'd imagined:

After boiling/simmering my vegetables (potatoes, carrots, aubergine, and courgette), I added a full jar of mild curry paste (not sauce) to a medium-sized saucepan which resulted in a fiery, dark-brown, vindaloo-type curry.

The curry was delicious but too hot. Thus, I watered down the remaining curry the next day, and added a normal red pepper to vary the taste a bit:

This produced a much milder curry which I think I'll stick to in the future.

Extreme Left Protests in Warsaw, Poland

Note: The following story is based on my experience of observing  Strajk Kobiet and other extreme left-wing groups trying to create chaos and disorder in Warsaw from late October 2020 onwards in response to the Polish constitutional court tribunal’s decision to ban eugenic abortions (e.g. with Down Syndrome children).

HELL:  Friday 23rd October

It was 9pm, I’d just opened a can of beer to relax and watch music videos after working all week. Suddenly, music started blaring from outside. I thought it was a young man with a fast car, loud radio, the usual stuff. But it was more, something more sinister. The day before, the Polish constitutional court tribunal had ruled that eugenic abortions were unconstitutional and would be banned. Now, thousands upon thousands of young protesters were marching like demons, like the possessed. Their eyes were several feet in front of their bodies, a relentless marching push, a mob. It was like a Maoist revolution.

In the crowd, I recognised a face, a woman in her thirties. She edited English language coursebooks for international book publishers in Warsaw. I’d worked with her for a few years as a proof-reader. It all clicked, came together, explained why transgender and other extreme left causes had found their way into English language books for teenagers in Poland. Like everywhere, EU prescriptions were a curse.

After half an hour, I caught the underground from Plac Wilsona to Politechnika. People told me that the main action was at the Polish constitutional court tribunal building near Łazienki Park. At the building, there was an awful music van, a mindless party atmosphere.

 

A young man was dressed up as a woman with a long blue wig. He was doing some kind of street theatre. He was pretending to do abortions on the street: red-stained nurse’s outfit, red-stained white parcel. The man was smiling, a circle around him laughed. They were ‘entertained’. I almost threw up, this was like Hell itself.

 

HELICOPTERS:  Monday 26th October

It was 6.30pm. All of a sudden, I heard the helicopters overhead. They signalled that the mob would be descending on Mr. Kaczyński’s place, my normally quiet part of Warsaw. I put my shoes and coat on quickly, took a backstreet route to Kaczyński’s house. On Ulica Mickiewicza, past Plac Wilsona but not too far, the mob was blocked off by riot police. The mob sat down. They occupied the street for 45 minutes. 

 

It was an anti-Christian movement. Women with cropped, bleached hair gave speeches from megaphones. This was a move for cultural revolution, extreme left change.

After the sit-down protest, the mob thronged its way to Warsaw city centre. It was a 3-4 mile traipse. The mob halted any traffic in its way. The marchers were trying to get hit by oncoming traffic. They wanted their own 'martyrs': plastic, contrived, political ‘martyrs’.

In Warsaw city centre, the mob climbed on top of the underground openings.

 

They marched through the centre, meeting up with other groups. It was a co-ordinated move.

On Krakowskie Przedmieście, the Church of the Holy Cross was guarded. 

It was good to see people who cared. Catholicism and Polish culture were under attack.

 

THE LAST OF THE SPARTANS: Wednesday 28th October

The 300 Spartans is a black-and-white film that has stayed with me since watching it as a child. A small group of Spartans fall to their deaths fighting against a massive Persian army. It’s about true valour, refusing to give up, against the odds.

On Wednesday evening, I was talking to a photographer near St. Aleksander's church. He looked like a professional, a newspaper photographer. We had different views but talked in a friendly way. The photographer told me that the protesters hated PiS (the centre right government), and that trouble had been brewing for years. St. Aleksander’s was at the Three Crosses Square.

Suddenly, from the de Gaulle crossing and Nowy Świat, I saw a massive, black tidal wave approaching. I moved across the riot police lines, and joined a squadron of Legia Warsaw fans at the back of St. Aleksander's church. This was the day that Strajk Kobiet (the pro-abortion wing of the left-wing KOD organisation) had called a general strike. Many left-leaning Poles had followed the directive.

 

Inside the football fan enclave, a seasoned member of the Legia squadron asked me who I was, what I was doing there. In Polish, I replied that I was English and Catholic, that I was there to defend the church because I was Catholic. He half-trustingly nodded, he looked shell-shocked, surprised that a foreigner was with him and his colleagues.

Over 30-40 minutes, the march came and went. Loud music from vans pumped up and zombified the mob; cardboard placards promoted abortion; the "Jebać PIS" (F*ck PIS) mantra rang out; conformist white/blue face masks passed by. Amazingly, two priests exited a back door. Both looked seven feet tall. They held big wooden rosary beads in their hands. The beads were moving among their fingers.

The priests cut through the mob like a knife through butter. The mob simply stopped, they let the priests through. The priests towered over the mob. They served a Higher Master, they held no fear.

Afterwards, I walked to the Church of the Holy Cross. I chatted with a Polish man just back from 12 years in Dublin and county Cavan. He’d seen the same in Ireland, the Church had done little to stop it. A priest came out of the big wooden doors. He told us that the protesters needed prayers, not punches. I’d heard other priests say the same.

 

THE GATES OF HELL (Thursday 29th October)

At the Church of St. Aleksander, young women were trying to clean off the stains, the red blotches near the front doors.

 

They were surrounded by security guards, this was necessary now.

Near the de Gaulle crossroads, I met a Polish man with a beard. He was in his thirties, and must’ve been six foot six, he reminded me of Little John from the Robin Hood Tales. He told me that the hostels were full of Ukrainians in Warsaw; that he'd been attacked by some inside one; and that many Ukrainians may've been amongst the protesters. This was the first time I’d heard this. But I’d heard many German and English-speaking voices amongst the mob.

Stepping onto Nowy Świat, I saw rainbow flags in the distance. Not far up, hardcore left females were giving speeches on a balcony above. They were lecturing about their cause, with lemmings below. It was like the Gates of Hell, it gave me a chill.

 

Leftist agitators were pumping themselves up during the 'quieter moments' of the protests. For them, it wasn’t a part-time job, it was a full-time 'vocation'.

The day before, I’d talked to a group of Catholics in front of St. Barbara's church at Plac Zbawiciela (The Square of the Saviour).

 

A man talked about how he preferred St. Augustine to St. Thomas Aquinas. He looked like a young GK Chesterton. We discussed Archbishop Lefebvre, Archbishop Vigano, it was an amiable group. My fellow Catholics told me that the Nowy Świat balcony place was where extreme left organisations (KOD; Strajk Kobieta; Antifa; LGBT etc.) came together in Warsaw.

 

Yes, the place was as black as Hell.

 

THE SPANISH CIVIL WAR:  Friday 30th October

The day came. The extreme left coalition had bussed protesters into Warsaw from all over Poland. Marta Lempart, the Strajk Kobiet leader, was said to be connected to George Soros through KOD. Strajk Kobiet (Women’s Strike) was the pro-abortion wing of KOD (‘Committee for the Defence of Democracy’ – an interesting euphemism).

After 3pm, Warsaw Old Town started swarming with young people with rainbow, red-and-black, black, and white flags. Vulgar messages were written on pizza boxes, ugly black splodges on cardboard. The pizza trade must’ve loved the extreme left, they were good customers. At 4pm, I found myself with a few hundred people, not entirely men, faithful Catholics and local football fans, massed on and around the steps of the Church of the Holy Cross. Grzegorz Braun, a well-known conservative politician who attended the old Latin Mass, was there.

At 5pm, just as darkness started descending, the Antifa drumming grew louder, small, soy figures marching in fading light. We, the defenders of the Church of the Holy Cross, were ringed in by riot and red-capped military police.

 

At some point, Grzegorz Braun stepped outside the police rings, he was being interviewed by Polish TV. He was unmasked, he towered above the mob.

A few 'protesters' stopped to have their pictures taken with the military police. Not all of the marchers were hardcore left. Some were there for the thrill, a day out, part of something ‘big’. Still, the scene reminded me of the early stages of the Spanish Civil War: mighty flags of Christ the King greeting godless hordes.

 

The flag of Christ the King often flew proudly outside the Church of the Holy Cross.

Unlike Wednesday, thousands upon thousands of protesters did not materialise. Only sporadic groups marched at a time. Today, the protest was starting from three different parts of Warsaw. The city centre would be brought to a standstill.

Clocking onto the leftist strategy, I decided to roam around the protesters. I wanted to film their antics. I genuflected, did the sign of the cross in front of Christ Carrying the Cross above. A young man was passing by, he eyeballed me as I stood up. I just smiled back, looked the enemy in the eye.

To avoid Nowy Świat, which was heavily crowded, I took the back-streets to the de Gaulle crossroads. At the latter, I saw a loud music van. It was pink and lurid. It was bawling out awful tunes. Masses upon masses of young people were in zombie-type states. 

 

It was dark, non-stop beating drums, cannibal rhythms. It was like The Pied Piper meets Dawn of the Living Dead.

Not far away, St. Aleksander's church was under siege. From all directions, the protesters were marching past and surrounding the church. Again, several hundred Catholics were there, faithfully defending their Church, ringed in by riot/military police.

 

The mindless orgy had spread all over Warsaw city centre, hiving round the Palace of Culture. The latter was Soviet built. Again, the mob was lead by music vans, hypnotic trances, ‘entertainment’ for a cut-price crowd. 

Moments after, I caught the underground to Ratusz Arsenał. Coming out of the tunnel, I saw the mob, countless thousands ‘strong’. They were heading down the main road towards Żoliborz, to Mr. Kaczyński’s small, unassuming flat on Mickiewicza Street. Kaczyński was the de facto leader of the PiS (Law and Justice) party. He was the biggest object of hatred for the mob.

Unfortunately, I live only a block away from Kaczyński, so the mob partied, urinated, and defecated outside my flat until the early hours of Saturday morning. Between 10pm and 1am, I was out amongst the mob, ripping up their cardboard placards.  

 

Some of the placards were deposited near children’s shops, the mob held no shame.

Near Kaczyński's house, I was challenged. Some protesters accepted that I was a local resident clearing up the mess. When they didn't, I told them that the police had given me permission to do so. This appeased most, but one woman shouted that the police 'hated'  women. A big, clumsy, male Antifa member, dressed in black uniform, tried grabbing hold of me. I shoved him off and went to a police car nearby. The cowardly thug ran off into Plac Wilsona metro station.

This night, the mob tried attacking the Father Popiełuszko church.

 

Such ‘bold’ artisans of pop culture did not know the pain of sacrifice, real martyrdom. They were a bunch of spoilt brats, no recollection of communist times. They were generation post-Z: no honour, no God, no fatherland, pure disenchantment.

 

ALL SAINTS DAY (Saturday 31st October/Sunday 1st November)

Late Saturday night, I was walking through the Old Town and along Krakowskie Przedmieście to check that all the Catholic churches were safe. Outside St. Anne's, I met four men and a woman, all in their thirties or forties. They were guarding the church. One of the men had done boxing training and was good at Japanese wooden sword fencing. These were useful self-defence skills. Another attended the SSPX church near Radość, on the outskirts of Warsaw. This man gave me a Miraculous Medal.

 

It was a kind gift, a welcome gesture.

At the old Latin Mass on All Saints Day, I saw the desecration. The church building had been sprayed with leftist slogans, bright blue splodges on white walls.

 

I spoke to a few young men outside the church. None seemed interested in protecting it, one believed it was the priest’s job. Another said that Catholics had to be careful not to make the protesters worse.

 

DEPLETED MOB:  Friday 6th November

By accident, I ran into a depleted version of the mob near the Palace of Culture on a Friday evening. They were still creating a disturbance, disrupting the city centre. But only a few ideologues seemed to be left. The ban on eugenic abortions had stalled, many of the moderate protesters had seen through the hardcore left agendas of KOD/Strajk Kobiet, Antifa, LGBT etc.

 

HERDED MOB:  Wednesday 18^th November

This day, the mob renewed their hostility towards the government, Catholic Church, and Polish tradition and culture. Strajk Kobiet now had their own office on Wiejska Street. It was between St. Aleksander’s church and the Sejm (the Polish Parliament building).

 

The SK leader, Marta Lempart, a Jewish lesbian, gave news briefings from the office. St. Aleksander’s church had to be permanently guarded.

One Wednesday evening, Lempart wanted to march on the Sejm. The police blocked Lempart’s music van from making its way there. The mob were stopped in their tracks.

 

The mob moved towards the city centre, marching limply past St. Aleksander’s church. On Nowy Świat, the police herded them towards a big square halfway up towards Marszałkowska.  

In the square, the mob was hemmed in to drool on its own spleen. 

Gaudy flags hit the night-time sky.

 

At one point, a tramp turned up, he started shouting out. He called the mob prostitutes.

 

Canterbury: A Punt on the River

Back to when times were happier and normal, revisiting Canterbury in summer 2019. 

Was just passing Westgate Gardens, and saw some people enjoying a punt on the river Stour.

 

An Experimental Meal

 This is an experimental meal that I made recently:

I boiled a load of potatoes and vegetables, then added a jar of tomato/bolognese sauce (usually used with pasta), and the resulting meal worked a treat. 

Next time, I'll have it with rice, maize, or buckwheat, for sure.

Zwierzyniec: Stations of the Cross

 

As we approached Zwierzyniec, we saw these wonderful, wooden Stations of the Cross on the trees in the woods/forest:

From a distance, they looked like bird-boxes, so it was a nice surprise to see the Stations of the Cross.