DRAWN BLOOD

Terrible thing that happened. Awful. Appalling. I really think it was appalling. But I feel it would be correct to point out that they did draw some very racist things. They did. Very racist. But it is appalling what happened to the racists. What happened to the racists is an undoubted tragedy and a crime and all that, sure, but the racists drew racist things so, ...you know. What do you mean you don't know? I just think it should be pointed out at this juncture that the dead racists did racist drawings. This is the ideal juncture to point this out because surely this is the matter at stake here or at least should be. I'm simply saying that it's terrible that the racists were murdered but she was out all by herself in a very short skirt they did do drawings that were racist. In fact, they were so racist that they even did racist drawings of other racists. These people had no limits. They even insulted their own. That's how racist they were. 

It is my duty, it's all our duty, to be offended by the racist drawings these racists drew and to keep expressing how offended we are by the racist drawings these racists drew until all anyone remembers is how racist these drawers were and not that they were murdered at all.

In summary: RACISM!

FAIR POINT, WELL MADE

I was just reading on politics.ie there about how babies contribute nothing to the exchequer. A new poster called ClongowesForever (a succinct and articulate addition to the gang) pointed out how babies expect everything to be done for them and how they are ‘worse than the Nigerians’. Fair point, I thought, well made. Regular P.ie contributor, ErinGoBragh, chimed in saying that if babies didn’t look like ‘cute little dolls’ and looked like ‘fat middle-aged fellas’ then mothers wouldn’t be so quick to indulge their carry on and probably throw them down wells or sign up to the probort lobby. He added that babies are worse than Travellers and then ClongowesForever said that was a fair point and well made but added that at least Travellers are from this country unlike Nigerians. ClongowesForever got a few ‘likes’ for that post even though the mods cautioned him to stay on topic.

Don’tTreadOnMe took part in the discussion too saying how babies make no attempt to integrate into our culture and how they even refuse to speak the language. I thought that was a fair point and well made so I posted ‘QFT’ in response.

GasAllWelfareScroungers was online at the time too, at 25276574649737 posts he rarely misses a discussion. He made a fair point well when he posted that babies are nothing more than miniature drunks because they speak garbled rubbish, can’t walk straight or even stand up most of the time, and inevitably piss and puke themselves. Then Don’tTreadOnMe pointed out that babies are actually worse than normal drunks because it only takes a few hours for a normal drunk to sober up whereas it takes babies years. In response, I suggested that babies be rounded up by the state and forced into education camps until they get their act together and become useful members of society. I was a bit surprised when the other posters rounded on me for this suggestion. ‘And who the hell is supposed to pay for these education camps, more bloody taxes is it?’ asked one. I said that the camps could be privately run by Michael O’Leary or someone that knows what he’s doing but it was too late. The others branded me a ‘libtard’ and ostracised me from the rest of the discussion. Well, LabourLad did come to my defence in fairness but that idiot siding with you only makes you look worse so I told him to ‘fuck off’. He reported me and I was suspended from the site for two days. Not sure what I’ll do to pass the time now. I could go outside I suppose but I’ve read that the streets are crawling with Nigerians, Travellers, and babies. Even scarier is the thought that some of the Nigerians and Travellers are actually babies. Imagine the burden on the taxpayer a baby Nigerian or baby Traveller is. Cripes, the parasitic potential doesn’t bear thinking about.

Maybe I’ll sign up to Godlike Productions in the meantime, just to tide me over. They are a bit mad there but you do occasionally find the odd fair point well made.     

INVENTIONS

Did you know that swimming trunks were invented by a man called Clive Togs? Yeah, it's true. That's why they are sometimes called 'togs'. And did you know that the chair was invented by Lady Agatha Chair, an 18^th century noblewoman and wife of the 7^th Earl of Westmeath? She found standing up to be 'frightfully common' and so fashioned a chair from the corpse of an Irishman. This novel idea led to the chair designs we know and sit upon today. Asides from that, did you know that chairs were considered luxury items and unaffordable to the working class? Yes, working class people only started getting access to affordable seating and actually sitting down in the wake of WW2 and the birth of the welfare state (which, by the way, was dreamt up by a British civil servant called Reginald Welfare-State).

Did you know that racism began as a children's chasing game and that homophobia was originally a parlor game from the late 19^th century? Yes, it's true. And, most interesting of all, did you know that 'war' was originally a popular board game for the whole family until one day someone said, 'hey, let's try this for real'. True. It's surprising where things come from.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to perfecting a new card game I'm inventing called 'Complete Global Economic Collapse and Breakdown of Societal Cohesion'.

LOVE!

Do you remember that Star Trek episode where the beautiful alien woman asked Captain Kirk, ‘What . . .is . . .love?’ Instead of answering, Kirk demonstrated with a passionate kiss. Today Fugger (the blog of truth, the people’s blog) is going to try and answer that alien lady’s question properly.

‘What Is Love?’ I’ll tell you what love is...

Love is a virus that downloads onto your cranial hard drive via Trojan malware. The Trojan malware in question is the object of your devotion, be it another human being or some notion of a God or a sense of nationality or whatever. Love is an emotion that endows you with positive feelings but these positive feelings have negative outcomes.

Love might probably inspire you to write poems but these poems will probably be awful. Love might inspire you to observe abstract and pointless rituals or to march about the place firing guns like a dangerous idiot. You’ll feel elated at the time but remember, a similar elation was felt by Chris de Burgh when he composed The Lady in Red. Yes, de Burgh may have been feeling over the moon but his inspiration caused abject misery for discerning listeners all over the globe. Ultimately, love causes suffering.

All love (especially the sexual kind) is doomed. Be it eventual betrayal or bereavement or a gradual lowering of rose tinted glasses, love will always end in tears. The joy of love is akin to the joy of a child digging in to a fifth bowl of jelly and ice cream. Now it’s yummy but later it’s ‘Mummy, my tummy feels funny’.

Some might argue that, beyond its temporary sensual, spiritual, and aesthetic pleasures, love serves pragmatic functions, the practical benefits of love being the propagation of the species and societal order. Well, let’s deal with the propagation of the species first shall we? The propagation of the species is initially down to lust. Lust is not love. It’s just related to it, like a sleazy uncle that always wants you to sit on his lap. Sure, once born, the survival of offspring is due to the protective love of mothers but mothers only love their children because they are an extension of their genetic information. That’s a kind of racism when you think about it. Racism is something that could cause the destruction of the species, not its propagation. I mean, it might seem all lovey dovey and oochie coochie coo but when you see a mother snuggling with her child it’s nothing more than a two person Nazi rally. I’m sorry if that sounds bleak or cynical but it is true. Familial love is clan love and the Ku Klux Klan is a clan. I rest my case.

Now to deal with the supposed societal cohesion brought about by love. Social Anarchists and some religious types might say that love is an innate currency that makes the world go around. ‘Give love and you will receive it’ they say but we all know that is rubbish. Give love and it will certainly be taken but there is no contract that guarantees its return. When love is not returned it turns into resentment and this becomes hate and hate leads to war. Yep, love is the cause of war. We build bombs out of love and fire guns for it. How oochie coochie coo is that?

Some of you will say that hate and war are caused by intolerance and greed but intolerance is motivated by a dislike of those different to you because you love those that are like you (see the ‘love is racism’ argument above). When it comes to greed, well, what is greed but an inevitable result of love? You love something so much you want more of it, even if it means taking it from someone else by force.

So that’s it, the truth about love in a single blog post. I’m sorry to shatter any illusions. Love might feel all nicey nice and elevating but that’s just mad chemicals going off in the brain. In truth, love is the insidious instigator of all human tragedy or, at the very least, a major and necessary ingredient of those tragedies. That’s why I’ve invented a new emotion. An emotion to replace love. Yes readers, the means of our liberation bubbling in a beaker at my laboratory right now. But this post has gone on long enough so you will have to come back to find out about my new emotion next time. Seriously, do come back, you’re going to love it.

NATIONALISM

(pictured above: The national flag of Insania)

Nationalism is great isn’t it? I think it is anyway. It’s cute. You have a bit of a fight and win your land and give it a little name like something-land or something-ania or just something. You make a little flag with a picture on it or maybe just a few colours or maybe a barcode and you put it up a pole and salute it in your little military outfits with the buttons all polished and you invent a little march you can do and blow a trumpet and sing a little song about your nation with little words about how great everything is and how good you are at fighting and how God likes you the best and all that. It really is very sweet the whole nationalism thing and practical too.

The practical element is the morale boosting that nationalism provides. I mean, if you didn’t have nationalism how could you muster the will to go off killing wogs just because they threaten your sweet deal on hot water bottle imports? (Oh dear, I’ve just realised I typed ‘wogs’ out loud. Please forgive me. I’m not racist or anything, it’s just the nationalist fervour.) If you didn’t have nationalism you might find yourself on a battlefield wondering just what the Hell you’re doing ramming a bayonet into a complete stranger. Where would your hot water bottle imports be then? I’ll tell you where, at the mercy of Wogland that’s where! The wogs would be exporting hot water bottles to you for top dollar and using the money to buy bayonets so they can stick them into you.

Of course, seeing as there would be a demand, you could always start making bayonets and selling them to the wogs. This might actually start good trade relations. Some important wog nation dignitaries might visit your nation and exchange gifts with your nation’s dignitaries, little tokens like a tasty cabbage or a fancy ornament or a fancy ornament of a tasty cabbage. And the wog nation’s dignitaries could stay for a few days and go see a few important statues or something and it would be on the telly and then the wog nation’s dignitaries would invite your nation’s dignitaries to Wogland and you’d be glad because the wog nation’s dignitaries liked your nation’s dignitaries.

National dignitaries are so called because they are dignified enough to represent their nations, unlike the rest of you. You’re not dignified like national dignitaries at all. You’re just normal undignitaries, shuffling around the place, blowing your noses and stuffing used tissues into pockets filled with old bus tickets. Jesus, when I think of it, the state of you. Really! All you’re good for is getting bayonets stuck into you. At least that way you’re doing your nation some service. Going forward.

I LOVE THE BLACKS!

I love the blacks. I’ve no problem with them and am not a racist in any way. I really love the blacks and it’s no trouble at all. There is no need to thank me or anything. The blacks are a great shower and I never miss an opportunity to remind them of that. Take the other day, I was going to Aldi and saw a family of the blacks passing me on the opposite side of the road. ‘G’wan the blacks!’ I roared over at them and gave them a double thumbs-up. They looked a bit puzzled to be honest and that just goes to show how rarely they are offered a kind word. Things are so bad the poor blacks are actually confused by friendliness.

I’ve always liked the blacks even before loads of them came over here. I really enjoyed it when Phil Collins teamed up with that black to sing Easy Lover. Do you remember Easy Lover? That was great. A black has moved in next to me and I always sing him a few bars of Easy Lover when I meet him in the corridor. He smiles politely and nods before rushing off to work, which is a sign he enjoys it. Smiling is the international language for enjoyment, unless it’s a gypsy or a traveller that is smiling. If a gypsy or traveller is smiling it’s the international language for ‘I am going to lull you into a false sense of security before I steal your wallet’. But that’s beside the point. Where were we? Oh yes,

She's an easy lover
She'll take your heart but you won't feel it
She's like no other
And I'm just trying to make you see

I’ve no problem with the blacks and am perfectly relaxed with the whole concept of blackness like I am with the gays. The gays are great and I don’t mind what they get up to at all. They can get married and buy houses and all that. As long as I don’t have to join in, the gays can be as disgusting as they want because that’s grand with me. It’s the same with the blacks. If the blacks want to slaughter goats in the garden for dinner that’s fine with me. As long as it isn’t my garden, they can do whatever they like with their goats and I’m sure Voodoo is a lovely religion. I have to say though, it must have been a bit difficult for Phil Collins when that black he sang Easy Lover with started cutting goat throats down the back of the tour bus. Maybe the black had his own bus. I’m sure they worked something out. Multiculturalism and all that.

I’m big into multiculturalism. That’s why I joined Residents Against Racism. That didn’t work out though. It seems I was too un-racist for them. Imagine that! I was going to the meetings and they were discussing things and occasionally I would just shout out ‘G’wan the Blacks’, just to keep our spirits up. Then, all of a sudden, they asked me to leave and never ‘darken’ their door again. Well now, ‘darken’, there’s a telling choice of words. Exactly how un-racist is Residents Against Racism? The lady doth protest too much, me thinks.

Anyway, seeing as R.A.R. didn’t want me, I decided to spend my Wednesday evenings with the local neighbourhood watch. We spent much of the time discussing the suspicious gypsy woman who sells Big Issue magazine outside the local Spar. ‘Gypsies are worse than homosexuals, they should all be air-lifted to a barren island’, said one of the Neighbourhood Watchers. Well, I was all set to defend the gays when I realised the man who made the offending remark was a black. I kept my mouth shut as I didn’t want to appear prejudiced.

To be honest, I sometimes find all this multiculturalism a bit confusing. What does one do in a situation such as the neighbourhood watch one I’ve just described? There should be a brochure on this or something. A government brochure with a league table of bigotry, one that tells you who it is more wrong to discriminate against and if two minorities fall out, which one you should side with. That would clear things up no end. Otherwise, we’ll just have to accept individuals at face value regardless of ethnicity or sexual preference and that would mean relying on our own discretion and that would very time consuming. I haven’t got time for that. I’ve work to do. There’s telly to be watched.

So, for the time being, I’ve made up my own league table. On my league table, the number one wrongest people to discriminate against are the blacks that are gay. They must get a terrible time. Near the bottom of the table are gypsies, because everyone hates them, and below them are travellers because, well, hating them is a tradition. Travellers cause awful trouble and Tommy Tiernan makes jokes about them being unhygienic so it must be OK to discriminate against travellers.

Anyway, that’s me sorted out multicultural wise for a while, until some official publication comes out or something. No flies on me eh? Unlike the travellers that is (ROFL! Nice one Tommy). ‘Gwan, the the Gay Blacks!’