God bless the great and immortal soul of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. If he were still among us, walking in the woods, puffing on his pipe, he would be savouring every moment of The Year Of Our Lord 2009; for Middle Earth is fighting back, and The Enemy is on the run.
There has been something in the air this year; and it is good. Not just satisfying, but actually good. The long accepted conventional wisdom that cosmopolitan international plutocrats are unassailable is being shaken. The rule of law is asserting itself. The people are fighting back against what they now recognise to be the oppression they have suffered and are suffering at the hands of faceless, far distant technocrats and accountants. They are no longer prepared to be the slaves of The Pie In The Sky Fairy, the false prophet of economics, history's most successful heresy against Christianity, whom it can now be believed was psychiatrically disordered from his conception.
Besiege his temples, and berate his priests; for the long, dark, ghastly reign of Adam Smith is drawing to an end. Smith's shadow has stood between God and Man for 233 years, and now the light is breaking in. Rejoice!
In time, historians will be just as perplexed by the behaviours of outsourcers and importers of foreign labour as they have been by the low-level functionaries of the Soviet Union and the Third Reich. How could they do this? What were they thinking? The faceless technocrats' and the business-school trained beancounters' weapons of choice in their war against civilisation might have been the mouse and the mobile instead of a rubber stamp - yet in their capacity to harm other human beings in order to get what they want, they are the brothers of Eichmann in spirit.
There are those commentators who manage to reach the right conclusions by the wrong road. They write of 'the thin, frozen air of Davos', without realising that the World Economic Forum is not a conference, but a retreat which the true believers in economics attend in order to recharge their spiritual batteries, and that Davos is a place of pilgrimage. They write of how 'masters of the universe still sing the free-trade song' without realising that this is not a song, but a hymn; and that the choir are the masters of the universe no longer. Their statement that 'the rage is here at last' is totally incorrect, and a conclusion which could only be drawn by having been steeped in the dismal politics of rage. The totally spontaneous demonstrations now being seen in the United Kingdom are acts not of rage but of love; love for country, for fellow countryman and for fellow man. What we are seeing now is an assertion of normality, collective recognition that what has gone before has been abnormal - and this can only be good.
Of course, it remains to be seen whether Smith's last disciples will turn violent when they realise the game is up, like Ceauşescu; I think they might. They're certainly crazy enough to try. Yet the age old question asked of all putschists would be asked of them in turn - 'Do you have the army?'. And they would not, and that would be the end of them.
Even now The Mouths of Sauron speak their masters' voices, condemning populism as only elitists can. Those who have enjoyed glittering careers by hanging on to evil's coat-tails might yet face an unpleasant and uncomfortable accounting, in the forms of the redundancy and dislocation they have been so eager to visit on others. Those currently employed as leader writers on our national newspapers might one day have to join the waiting list for a council house, for them no doubt the fate worse than death. There have been many great sins committed in the name of Adam Smith; and there will be much great punishment to be endured in atonement.
And to cap it all, the French are on the streets. Yes; this is good.
This is international plutocracy's 'hour of wolves, and shattered shields' and may we consider ourselves blessed to have lived long enough to see the destroyers and usurpers going down like skittles. The world of men will fall. It deserves to. It has been a Hell on Earth. May it be replaced instead by the civilisation of truth and love, perhaps itself 'a far green country under a swift sunrise'; the one old Tolkien, the man who had the brass neck to write the graffito 'Not a penny for Concorde!' on his tax return, would have loved to have lived to see.