Cleopatra and the Urban Youth Crime Menace

Did this hip-hop combo create an environment for evil to thrive?

Inner-city Britain, 2013: A line of pregnant single mothers queue for benefits, the latest barrage of “tunes” flooding out of their state subsidised ipod shuffles. Young ethnic street toughs brawl in disused garage forecourts. Older kids tease younger kids by sticking their fingers in their ears and yelling “nah-nah-NI-nah-nah” before running away. A nightmare? No this is merely Modern Britain 2013, a country as far removed from sanity as Chipping Sodbury is from the surface of the moon. At times like this it is right for the likes of you and I to question what led us here and who is responsible. The international financial crisis? The rising tide of drugs and pornography on our street corners? Hazel Blears? No. The answers to our country’s ills as to so many others can be firmly placed at the start of the Blair era and laid at the door of a gangsta rap girl group who sowed the seeds of our great cities destruction.

Cast your mind back to that “golden” spring of 1997. A fresh-faced “New” Labour leader in Number 10, “Blair’s babes” and a fascist feminist femi-nazi agenda firmly installed in government with free contraception for all and abortion at the touch of a button. In the Mancunian  ghetto of Moss Side three young ladies of the black persuasion disregard their wise mama’s request to turn down the radio and crack on with some homework. Tragically they ignore her. No, these feisty “sistas” care not for classical algebra or Thomas Hardy for they are on a collision course with the gang lifestyle and the drug peril it represents. They are Cleopatra and they are “Comin’ Atcha” (sic.)

Regard if you will the video embedded above. Baggy jeans jiggle over ample black hides. The threatening vivaciousness of dusky-hewn beauty and sexuality masks an anarchic creed they profess to glorify. If any of you have ever had recourse to defend yourself against an urban mugger (say at 2 AM on a wet night on Clapham Common) then you will find their terror tactics all too familiar. These exotic young women are “Comin’ Atcha” for all you possess – your wallet, your Rolex, your M&S loyalty card, and perhaps most damagingly of all your sense of decency and traditional British values. Shorn of all morality the girls adopt their gangsta “namez” of Cleo, Zainam and Yonah whilst disregarding the gentle hand of British hospitality their parents were offered when they arrived here on HMS Windrush. Unlike their American contemporaries Snoop Doggy Dogg, the white “rapper” Eminem and Dr Dre (not actually a qualified medical doctor) these girls offered a potpourri of feminist ideology, casual violence and brazen ethnic sexuality to a youthful nation already drunk on a heady cocktail of Blairite socialism and “anything goes” social engineering. Cleopatra themselves disappeared after a relatively brief stay in the limelight, no doubt drowning in a toxic sea of drugs, benefits handouts and KFC. Their vengeful legacy they bequeathed to the nation however remains and was defined by the shameful violence that erupted on the streets of London in the summer of 2011. A mere decade and a half on from Cleopatra’s coquettish fifteen minutes of infamy their successors amongst the female gangsta fraternity now are known to regularly stab their own mothers’ eyes out with scissors before falling back unconscious into a pool of their own vomit, as those of us who weep for our nation - a Britannia raped and desecrated and lying on the funeral pyre - can only look back and rue the day we were taken in by these girls and their siren song of hate. They were Cleopatra. They were “Comin ‘Atcha.” And they came and took everything we hold dear.