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Thursday, February 13, 2014

HATE HER WAY


(Special guest blogger Breda)
 
Now, this isn't just about me but I am asking that the dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty rug munching arse pokers my gay brothers and sisters allow me to express my views. You know, I am not just asking here, I am actually imploring. Tears are rolling down my face as I type this just as tears flowed from the eyes of my good friend John after the death of Katy French. That's quite a lot of tears let me tell you and some of them are genuine. Genuine tears, how very sad. You would weep too if you found yourself barricading your entire family into your house like Anne Frank or the cast of Night of the Living Dead had to. This, of course, isn't about me but the other evening Ben, my little boy, asked 'mammy, are the people from the internet coming to get us', and I was forced to say 'of course not love, we're just playing a game'. I was forced to lie to my child and, unless it is an exercise in mental reservation, a lie is a sin. I might go to Hell if I don't receive confession before the event of my death. Imagine the irony if I ended up in Hell as an indirect result of trying to save a dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty heap of pox ridden poo baiters my gay brothers and sisters from that same eternal damnation. How fair is that? 'How fair' I ask you as salty Katy French tears spout from my doleful ducts. The Doleful Ducts of Breda O'Brien. Hmmm, that might be a nice byline for this piece ...but I digress, this isn't about me. This is about the nazi queer war against preservation of traditional values. Traditional values like the right of a child to come into this world at the foot of a grotto via symphysiotomy and be greeted by both a mother and a father and not two dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty objectively disordered salivating micky gobblers gay people.

These are my values and I only want to defend them without being accused of holding the prejudicial and discriminatory views that I hold. Let me make it perfectly clear that I reject, with every fibre of my being, the intolerance and hate that I seek to uphold with every fibre of my being. When will people realise that hate is not hateful when it comes from a loving place. My hate is a hate of love and there would be more love in this world if people learned to hate my way. But this isn't about me.

I'd like to conclude by thanking Mr. Fugger for allowing me this space to express my increasingly maginalised views. With the climate of hate that currently pervades the communications landscape, myself and my fellow Iona sufferers are forced to avail of any platform, no matter how pitiful. (No offence to Mr. Fugger, RTE, The Irish Times, The Independent, etc. etc. etc.).  

2 comments:

brendanoconnell said...

A most excellent post by Breda, who loves gay people enough to see past the gay bits and just focus on the nice non-gay bits underneath. Because when you think about it, the church loves everything about gay people, apart from their defining characteristics, habits and lifestyles.

Fugger said...

I thought I'd give Breda a safe and non-judgemental space to express her views. She wrote her piece in tearful mascara on a scrap of bog paper and pushed it under the door of her besieged home.

I see Breda as Ireland's own Aung San Suu Kyi; placed under effective house arrest by formerly oppressed oppressors who seek to oppress their oppressors ...and that must feel oppressive.

I can only imagine how Breda must feel standing at a pedestrian crossing. What gives the 'anti-gay' away?