Tuesday, September 18, 2012

#304: Meet The Flintstones. Now Kill Them.

To further a recent discussion I'm having on that evil thing called Facebook...

It'd be nice to go just one day when I don't see someone trying to push some ignorant, misguided, hatemonging media racist's views down my throat? Be the US elections, be it the recent protests against the wankers who made the movie that attacks Muslims, be it anything - where is the tolerance these days? 

I was raised to accept everyone on their merits and not to hate anyone on the basis of their colour, creed or religion. Trust me, if I don't like someone it's due to their failings as a person, nothing more, nothing less. Eventually this world will implode beneath the racial hate and religious intolerance that it now wallows in. I'm not advocating love for all, but, by the maker, take a step back and stop believing everything that the media blowhards say. They know nothing more than anyone else and only appeal to the largely uneducated masses so they can keep their jobs. Use your brains people! 

Today a bald headed moron has written a hate filled screed attacking Muslims who were exercising their right to protest.  In most people's worlds it's perfectly acceptable for white Australians to riot and protest, but nobody else can do so, no matter what their religion, colour or creed.  It's a vicious cycle really.  But a here's something I'd like to share, and you can disagree with it all you want - go for it.

Rape.  As the Mother Of Jesus pointed out, there's an impression, fuelled by the media, that all Islamic people believe that, "...women deserved to be raped because of the way we dress!!!!"  Now I'm the first to agree that having such a stance isn't right, but then I've yet to meet one Islamic person that also agrees that women deserve to be raped due to the way that they dress.  Not one.  But to hide behind any excuse, especially religion, to justify rape is utterly wrong.  I'd like to say the following, the bulk of rapes in this country are done by white people who wear hoodies, so let's ban the hoodies and balaclavas. People have been raping others due to the way they dress since women started showing ankles.  The Hoodie doesn't hide behind religion thought, the hoodie hides behind something a lot more dangerous.  The Hoodie generally hides behind their upbringing, or blames a drug or alcohol addiction that they inflicted upon themselves, or blames society because they're too lazy to get a job and thinks the world owes them. The Hoodie blames everyone but themselves for their damage that they do.  Let's ban the Hoodie before we ban the Burqua.

Seriously.  When the media gets behind that, whioch they won't, instead of pushing racist, intolerant, anti-religious views that would have made Goebbels proud, then I might take notice.  Until then, don't believe what you hear - and keep your thickheaded views to yourself.  Nobody cares.

Sunday, September 02, 2012

#303: Remember The Alamo!

To all of your bastards who were wondering where I'd gotten to, let's just say I was busy having a gigantic shit.  

Browsing that evil ole Facebook this morning I saw this photo and had a chuckle.  I pointed out, in the comments section, that it reminded me of some graffiti that used to be in the men's growler of the upstairs nightclub in Rundle Street in the 1990s and the story that went with it.  The night in question I went with my then girlfriend and a pal for some quiet drinks - an anomaly at the time because I was well into my phase of drinking myself into oblivion and swallowing almost any happy pill that was offered (or not).  Loads of fun really.  On the night in question some peon thought it'd be a good idea to crack onto my then girlfriend, who also thought it'd be a good idea to flirt with the guy in front of me with the view of making me jealous.  Really, we were as bad as each other, and I could never understand that.  Oh well, such is life.  After I'd told the idiot that it'd be in his best interests to leave the place I went for a quiet slash.  That's when the fun broke out.

The clown followed me in and decided to pick a fight.  I wasn't in really in the mood for any shenanigans so, in one of my more violent moments, I grabbed the swine and I put his head through one of the cisterns, thus breaking both the cistern and presumably his head, leaving the floor awash with Royal Doulton, dirty water and some claret. He lay on the floor, covered in filth and blood, moaning and twitching, so I left. A few months later I went back for a night out and went for a slash to find that the cistern hadn't been replaced but someone had written, "Personal Jesus Wuz Here!" 

I fucking loved it.  And I hope that bastard still has a headache.  In my dreams I imagine that he has a Royal Doulton logo permanently etched onto his forehead.