Great piece from Michael over at frreepress.ie. He's talking about the photo of the cops in Mullingar. Do we have names on any of them yet?
Beannacht De ar na Gardai Siochana.
START:
When you commoditise the very idea of being a man, and you sexualise the entire human experience into non existence, you breed men like this. When you siphon every natural instinct for kith and kin into a ditch of self-loathing, and make them hate themselves because they don't have the cash or the joie de vivre, or the Golf Gti in Carlow or meath, you breed men like this. When you create situations where they hate the females they grew up with, where self doubt bubbles like the bubonic plague, you spawn men like this. When you saturate the Irish male consciousness with fluoride, and drink, and porn, and football, and television and aspiration beyond one's natural habitat, you BREED men like this. But they are God's children. Right?
In a sad Cul de sac of a way, these lads at this table, as unpalatable as it is for many, are our brothers. They're the mate who didn't do the degree, or learn the trade, or have the friend circle. They're the oddballs. And let's be honest lads, we are also oddballs. In the biblical sense. The watchers on the wall. We scraped our reality with bloody nails out of a puss-laden scab of half truths and circumstance. Scab. What a word. We dodged the jabs. The poor cunts fell on the other side of the knife. Maybe they were too outside of the norm to begin with. I'm sorry, I might be hated for this, but I want to hug them. They'd probably pepper spray me for my magnanimity.
But heorr, hey're long out the gate of doom, and most beyond redemption. Some surely though are feeling it. The cunts these lads protect GAVE THEM AND THEIR FAMILIES THE INTENTIONALLY HARMFUL BIOWEAPONS. That's some difficile cognitive dissonance.
I see lads there I went to school with. I see faces I played football and hurling with against. I see tribesmen lost in a gyre. Hands up over their heads, mouths aghast, eyes wide shut.
This next statement of mine might draw more of their ire to me then anything I have ever said on my website or this channel, but I feel sorry for them. I want to put my arms around them and tell them it's ok, they are all worthy, they are consequential. They matter. But me saying that is weakness, and that is the doomloop. There is no place in this world for weakness. That is how he designed it. It is the perpetual motion machine. The push. The oompf. Poor bastards. There's hope yet for them, if only they could rise above the psychological warfare they've been drilling into us since birth.
Jesus Christ is our lord and saviour.
