Black Fingernail Syndrome
Andrew and the blood of angels.
More stuff that I didn’t ever write. I just misappropriated it. Somehow.
“People do dirty work: I spent a fair chunk of my working life in factories, shipyards, workshops and the like. You could tell the guys who worked there on the tools and the factory floor by one simple thing. No matter how they tried they never quite removed all the gunk, oil and muck from their fingers and from under their fingernails. That they handled greasy, dirty bits of metal and machinery was obvious. In a way it was a badge of honour. Cuts and bruises, splinters and grime. The daily reminders of industrial work. Tugging on tape bands, heaving pallets, sorting pipe lengths. Screwing up, bolting down, hammering in.”
"We had things like the ols school poisoned Swarfega to clean up with, or the ill-fitting gloves that didn’t allow you to hold or handle tools properly. Not like today. The rough gloves might have been okay for hot metal or machine working but no use for anything fine or remotely detailed where dexterity was needed. So our fingertips and nails always carried the marks of the filthy oils and greases we handled. Nobody really cared either. You put on your boots and overalls and dipped the chains in linseed oil or fitted nuts and bolts into brackets, filters and flanges, all day long. Nice but hard and dirty work. So that gave me an idea ...
... there’s a lot of scope for a different kind of dirty work in the mansions and palaces of the elite but dirtiest workers. Always has been. I did begin to wonder if Andrew Windsor, a one-time prince of this realm, might be considering or even interested in a final act of redemption.”
Open letter almost to AW (note: not to AI).
Why not change the game? Lift yourself above and beyond the Epstein scandals and just maybe into a different version of history. Try a calm and measured piece of whistle-blowing. A reasonable act of treason against the elite. Turn in Donald. Turn on Donald. The Donald. Nobody else or perhaps someone else. You’ve nothing to lose.
Tell your story but make it all about him. What he said. What he did. Who he did it to. What you saw with your own eyes. Big him up, keep yourself low. Forget rank and honour amongst the other thieves. You may be in the dirt and we know much of that dirt sticks and will remain stuck ... but if you took him down. If you aimed low and hit the target. Your redemption and redemption for your family and the whole crippled, corrupt and awkward institution that you were born into just might be possible. How’s that for an idea? How’s that for dirty work that cleans you up ... just a little? Afraid of getting black fingernails? Russian poisons?
Or is it all too late now? Have the waters closed over you? Fear of the mad dog that’s too big to pick a fight with. Or is he? Then again think of the other big dogs involved … it’s such a sporting life,
Anonymous (as you’d expect).