Awake Knights! For there are dragons to slay and damsels in distress!

A damsel in distress is imprisoned in a tower, trapped by a fire-breathing dragon. Her only hope of rescue is her Prince, her knight in shining armour who will scale the walls to save his lady love, and carry her off into the sunset. And, drum roll please, this way he charges, gallantly storming up to the castle. He leaps his horse over the moat, ascends the fort, lifts her over his shoulder and deposits her on his trusty steed. He slays the dragon and the happy couple gallop away into the night.

Nowhere in this fairytale did the lady snipe, “I can get on the horse myself, thank you!” Nor did the knight say, “Hey baby, let’s go back to my place and have some fun!”

So, where did it all go wrong?

1997. New Labour stage a coup and seize power, amidst joyful renditions of “Things can only get better.” The only problem being that everything had suddenly got a whole lot worse. 24 hour drinking, inebriated (often underage) youngsters lying in gutters or getting into fights every night of the week. Hard working families being taxed into poverty to fund affluent lifestyles for the idle unemployed. Violent criminals being let off scot-free for murder and GBH while the law abiding citizen who attempted to restrain them finds himself serving time for his heroic actions.

Families realise they will be given more state benefits if they split up, resulting in breakdown of family life. This, combined with the uncontrolled immigration free-for-all means kissing goodbye to the green belt, and frequent water shortages in the urgent need for ever more ugly housing. One could go on forever, but the worst thing about the whole sorry situation is the complete lack of “respect” that our incompetent, mendacious and categorically evil Prime Minister loves to keep bleating on about. It's noticeable, however, that there's been no mention of how you legislate against a lack of respect.

The typical image of British youth under New Labour have all the worst elements of the old masculinity - a lack of empathy, gratuitous aggression and an obsession with this "respect" - but none of its positive qualities, like stoicism and a willingness to provide. With nothing to believe in and no need to work for the things they want, apathy has descended like a killer plague, wiping out all traces of life in its merciless path towards total annihilation. Everyone across the country grumbles about the decline of our once-great nation, but nobody actually does anything about it. Why not?

Because under New Labour we have mutated into a bunch of whimpering, mollycoddled brats, who won’t take responsibility for our own actions, but demand, and receive compensation if we so much as take a tumble whilst playing sport. A typical example of this ridiculous culture is in Torquay, where the popular and legendary palm trees that attracted thousands of visitors each year were all hacked down, in case a hapless passer-by should scratch himself on a frond and sue the local council for damages. Meanwhile, Britain and Bagdad burn while Tony plays his fiddle.

National pride is now construed as racism. But every country needs some kind of solemnity and dignity, some sense of occasion. It’s what draws us together when we’re under threat. Perhaps that is why New Labour want to destroy our patriotism, it makes it harder for us to fight them. I remember a TV programme I watched just a few years ago. Some researchers had decided to test the differences in behaviour between nationalities. They gathered together 4 groups of holidaymakers, Brits, Americans, Germans and Japanese. The researchers then subjected them to a series of unfortunate events. The holidaymakers had no idea they were even taking part in an experiment, let alone being filmed. One experiment involved setting their national flag on fire, and leaving it burning for the holidaymakers to find. On discovery, the Americans cried over their flag, built a makeshift coffin for it, and carried out a solemn funeral procession. They were angry and insulted at this affront to their nation. The Germans and Japanese were both shocked to find their flags burning, and very concerned that they may have offended someone. Both groups racked their brains trying to work out who they had upset, so that they could make amends and leave the resort workers with a good impression of their respective nations. Finally, the Brits came downstairs and made the grim discovery of the Union Jack set ablaze. What did they do? They laughed heartily at the thought of having annoyed someone to such an extreme, tore the flag down, threw it in the bin and carried on partying.

Blair once defended a deputy Prime Minister whose rejoinder to being egged in public was to punch the culprit. Tony’s own reaction to the news that his 16 year old son had been found abandoned in a gutter in Leicester Square in the middle of the night, drenched in his own vomit and lying to the police about his name and age, was to say that he had found the whole escapade “absolutely hilarious.” What kind of parent would find it amusing to think of their child in such a dangerous situation? This is the person whose “values” have been forcibly stamped into the very fabric of our society, the leader who is supposed to be setting an example for the next generation.

The people of Britain, particularly in the armed forces, have been very vocal of late about the disgraceful, wimpish behaviour of the captured naval personnel who have so embarrassed us before the world. They proclaim, “This would never have happened in Churchill’s day!” Well, I have news for you, mate. This isn’t Churchill’s day. This is Blair’s day. The entire exploit is a metaphor for British society under Blair. Forget dignity, forget courage, don’t worry about anyone else. As long as you’re alright, Jack, that’s all that matters. Maybe you can even sell your story and make a few quid out of it!

In Britain today, morality and ethics are rare commodities, and it is into this void that the symbols of chivalry bring both memories of an idealized past and the hope for a better future. For under the pressures of modern life man has only morality to defend his soul from the ravages of the world. However, let’s take a look at the ancient and venerable tradition of Knighthood today.

The standard set for knighthood is as follows:
They shall have been obedient to the governing documents of the Society and the laws of the kingdom.
They shall have consistently shown respect for the Crown of the kingdom.
They shall have set an example of courteous and noble behaviour suitable to a peer of the realm. They shall have demonstrated support for the aims and ideals of the Society by being as authentic in dress, equipment and behaviour as is within their power.
They shall have shared their knowledge and skills with others.
They shall have practiced hospitality according to their means and as appropriate to the circumstances.
They shall have made every effort to learn and practice those skills desirable at and worthy of a civilized court.
To this end they should have some knowledge of a wide range of period forms, including but not limited to literature, dancing, music, heraldry, and chess, and they should have some familiarity with combat as practiced in the Society.
They should participate in Society recreations of several aspects of the culture of the Middle Ages and Renaissance.

Why, then, have popstars such as Bono and that aging icon of drug-culture, Mick Jagger, been made Peers of the Realm? With this treatment of what were once high honours goes an apparent compulsion to demean and proletarianise every great public occasion which should have associations of dignity and splendour. Not to mention the cash for honours scandal.

And so this brings me to my ultimate point, the death of chivalry. I think many people misunderstand the concept of chivalry. They think it means that men should worship all women and treat them as goddesses just because they are female. Actually, the point of chivalry is that that men treat women like ladies, and in return, the women treat men like gentlemen. Of course, these ideals were not helped by the feminist movement, who gave us search pearls of wisdom as “All men are rapists and that's all they are,” and “Heterosexual intercourse is the pure, formalized expression of contempt for women's bodies.”

When a man opens a door for a woman and she responds with a look of disgust or calls him a sexist pig, there’s a possibility he won’t bother trying to be helpful or courteous to the next woman who comes his way. And men probably don’t feel very inclined to behave like gentlemen towards the ladettes who so endear us all with their charming, “What you f****** lookin’ at, ya f****** wanker?” Followed by copious amounts of vomiting and burping. This delightful behaviour hardly sets the stage for a romantic hero to lay down his cloak while she urinates all over it.

Chivalry is a sense of justice, honour and a flaming desire to do what is right.. But people in modern Britain now only follow the rules they absolutely have to follow. Courtesy and honour, it seems, are not important to people today, who only care about themselves. Chivalry promotes order and respect, real respect, not the kind Blair keeps banging on about. Chivalry teaches that the self is not the only thing of importance, which is what holds a society together.

Striving for the perfect society is like the quest for the Holy Grail, reaching for an impossible target. Does that mean we shouldn’t bother? Of course not. If you aim for the stars, you will at least reach the sky. The knights who didn’t find the Holy Grail still did many good works as they traversed the country on their quest.

Charles Kingsley once declared, "Some say that the age of chivalry is past, that the spirit of romance is dead. The age of chivalry is never past, so long as there is a wrong left unredressed on earth." And God knows, there are plenty of wrongs still to redress.

In some esoteric traditions, the sword is a symbol of will. So I say to all you would-be warriors out there, raise your mighty swords and prepare for battle. For, as Richard DeVod observed, “just as it is impossible to win the race unless you venture to run, so it is impossible to win the victory unless you dare to battle.”

A Soul's Lament for a Bygone Dream.

Camelot. Oh, glorious Camelot! The shining beacon that inspired the world! The flame that, from the flash of a single spark, set all the hearts of the world on fire. Exquisite, transcendent, indefectible Camelot, all the while slipping into your boundless descent from grace. Was it ever meant to be?

So one foul deed grows into another, the stain, like blood, dousing the earth for evermore, left behind for those yet to come. The toil, the belief, the blood and sweat, all wiped out in the blink of an eye by greed, treachery and betrayal. What began in chaos and destruction, ends in chaos and destruction. Years of hope and travail washed away in a single instant.

The utopia of Camelot was but a dream. The dreamer forgets that dreams become nightmares. The protagonist and antagonist, two sides of the same? Without the darkness, would we recognise the light? Without despair, perhaps no need for hope. Why, then, do we strive? For what purpose our hope? Are we doomed to an endless cycle of hope and failure?

Are good and evil simply figments of man's search for meaning in a sometimes apparently senseless world? If we took a look from our antagonist's side, would we see the same picture emerge?

Britain in the dark ages. Warring tribes, bloodshed and anarchy. A boy pulls a sword from a stone and becomes king. Eden is temporarily regained. To me, the stone stands for dark age Britain, Britain in it's crude form. What is a stone but a mass of minerals heaped together, maybe nothing on the outside, but within, a gem that can be tumbled and polished until it reveals it's true nature. A rare, precious and beautiful treasure, a masterpiece. This was Britain in the sixth century, a goldmine of potential just waiting to be tapped, its true promise hidden to those who would not look. The sword stands for Camelot. Camelot is the treasure, the gleaming prize pulled from the misruled lawlessness. The beautiful city of exemplar perfection pulled from the base, animal wilds.

Only one person could retrieve paradise from the abyss. Many had tried and failed, in their arrogant desire to rule. Only the one with a pure heart could succeed. And succeed he did temporarily, or so it seemed. For Arthur was only human. Unable to resist one night of the forbidden, and Arthur created his own antagonist, Arthur's own dark side made flesh. One mistake that led to his eventual downfall.

Arthur represents the land, and his personal downfall is the kingdom's downfall. But why? Why did one small act have to spell complete devastation?

Are we all destined to fight with ourselves eternally, our noble intentions overridden by the base? I ask again, and I cry out for an answer. Why do we continue with this never-ending cycle? They say all it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. With the apathy that now permeates every aspect of life, how can one be expected to do anything? I'm not sure I believe in evil. Evil is generally defined as morally or ethically objectionable behaviour or thought; behaviour or thought which is hateful, cruel, excessively sexual, or violent, devoid of conscience. But people have their own reasons for behaving in such ways. Was Mordred evil for his treachery and rebellion, or was he hurt by the attempt his father had made on his life when he was just a newborn? Was he simply tormented by the lack of love displayed towards him by his father, and angry that his rightful place as crown prince was denied him, when there wasn't even another heir in sight? After all, it was Launcelot and Guinevere who committed the original crime, ( a crime born of love, was that evil?) the truth was simply exposed by Mordred in a vain attempt to restore to himself that which he believed rightfully his.

Of course, in Arthur's eyes, Mordred is a traitor, betrayer of his own father and causer of trouble, the downfall of the kingdom. But perhaps Arthur wouldn't have been so harsh towards his son if he had not been ashamed of his own actions in Mordred's creation.

So it becomes obvious that one man's evil is another man's necessity, or even righteousness, like religious zealots who kill in the name of their god, and governments who war in the name of peace. So many differing opinions, so many opposing views. How can this conflict be resolved? Is there any hope or, like Camelot, has this world been doomed from the outset?

As this world's population grows ever larger, space is diminished, and nature destroyed. Beautiful open land is expunged to build ever more high rise tower blocks, resulting in worsening crime rates, noise pollution, the death of chivalry. Religious and racial wars are just as plentiful now as they were in the middle ages. If anything, they are even worse in the 21st Century with all the new and improved weapons of annihilation we have these days. So much for the age of enlightenment.

People in the west speak highly of the right to free speech, of liberalism. What about places like Saudi Arabia, were one may be stoned to death for breaking a dress code, or even the fascist governments that spring up around Europe from time to time, like the Nazis?

I don't believe free speech is any more of a right for us now than it was in the dark ages. Think of all the things one may not say in Blair's Britain, the CCTV following you everywhere you go, the fingerprinting and DNA taken when you want a new passport that will soon be in effect, now security cameras in lampposts that will be barking orders at passers-by. At least in the dark and middle ages, one could venture out into the countryside and be alone, knowing that they weren't being watched or followed. Not to mention the pollution and urban sprawl. Soon there is quite simply going to be no room at all left. Quality of life is becoming severely diminished. I find myself moving on to pastures new, ever more rural areas, but there is no escape. I just don't see how this world can last much longer.

Is there anywhere left in Britain that one may go to be truly alone, to experience silence and solitude and commune with nature? People are becoming so angry, and is it any wonder when we are piled one on top of the other, less room to breathe all the time? If one cannot take a moment to simply be, with no distractions and no outside interference, will that person not lose their sanity?

People in this modern time are so dissatisfied. We have a wealth of food, medicine, education, knowledge and creature comforts now that people 1000 years ago couldn't even dream of. But are we happier than they were? I doubt it. So many youngsters drift through life with no purpose and nothing to believe in. Under Blair, consumerism has taken the place of spirituality, blame and compensation the place of self-belief, belief in something higher and more worthy than yourself, and the drive to fight for it.

Is it worth fighting, or do we just flow along with the inevitable tide, and end up washed out to sea where we drown, and die a lonely death? Will the golden age of chivalry come upon us once more, or is life now just a downward spiral of ASBOs, irritation and despair? Camelot may not have been a physical reality, it may have been doomed from the outset, perfidy and aggravations lurking below the surface, but it was a land of high hopes, inspiration and ideals to live up to, and a leader worthy of respect, despite his flaws.

I used to pray for the return of the once and future king, but swamped ever more by this encroaching despondency, I fear my faith has dissolved into a gaping black abyss. If steps aren't taken to rectify this situation right now, we really will have passed the point of no return. And thus, I feel I have no choice but to edge ever further from the real world into a land of fantasy, from which I know I may never return.