Conquer By Breeding (CBB)
This strategy is the most commonly used alternative to outright war when one population wants to annex another population's territory.
The strategy is allowed by the United Nations (inexplicably) since conquering a country by means of war is no longer tolerated amongst the international community.
This strategy is the most commonly used alternative to outright war when one population wants to annex another population's territory.
The strategy is allowed by the United Nations (inexplicably) since conquering a country by means of war is no longer tolerated amongst the international community.
The Conquer By Breeding strategy was used in the "plantations" carried out by the British in Ireland in the 1600's. The strategy is proving unsuccessful - the British now control only 2/3 of one of the four provinces in Ireland and the Irish nationalists within the area under the control of the British are now using the same strategy to regain the territory they lost to the British.
A more successful example of the CBB strategy has been used by the Albanians in their attempt to annex the Serbian state of Kosovo in 1689(Kosovo is part of the original Serb heartland and ancestral homeland of the Serbs).
The same strategy will be used by the large muslim population in the south of France very soon.
(The French were stupid enough to let it happen, so they deserve any problems which come out of an open-door immigration policy.)
A more successful example of the CBB strategy has been used by the Albanians in their attempt to annex the Serbian state of Kosovo in 1689(Kosovo is part of the original Serb heartland and ancestral homeland of the Serbs).
The same strategy will be used by the large muslim population in the south of France very soon.
(The French were stupid enough to let it happen, so they deserve any problems which come out of an open-door immigration policy.)
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1. Spoken prose of a hidden track by A.F.I, nown to creep out those who hear it.
See also: A.F.I, End of the World
See also: A.F.I, End of the World
"We held hands on the last night on earth. Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves. It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river.
So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay,and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had come crashing down like he news of an intimate suicide. We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress. The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop. The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime. I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked if you would accompany me in a quick fall, but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two.
I rode alone. You said, "The cinders are falling like snow." There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence. Of blue and grey. Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city. The sun was stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines. Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message."
So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay,and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had come crashing down like he news of an intimate suicide. We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress. The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop. The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime. I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked if you would accompany me in a quick fall, but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two.
I rode alone. You said, "The cinders are falling like snow." There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence. Of blue and grey. Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city. The sun was stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines. Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message."
by Goffboy's Dictionary on Life July 8, 2005
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Imperial Whiskey is the favorite libation of 1950's low-budget filmmaker Ed Wood.
Imperial Whiskey is the favorite libation of 1950's low-budget filmmaker Ed Wood.
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