Tuesday, March 25, 2008
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Stanislav's Rants on Guido (www.order-order.com) plus whatever else tickles my fancy.
Blog Archive
About Me
- Plumbers Assistant
- This blog is a compilation of Stanislav's Rants as they appear on Guido. It is neither operated nor sanctioned by him. If you don't like it, don't come back.
As person with dual Irish citizenship, passport and everything, is no pleasure to remark that one's every encounter with Irish tinker, tarmaccer, horsedealer and lucky charm hustler has been uniformly unpleasant, unwholesome, uncivil, unfair, intimidatory and dishonest. This is opinion not of pre-judgement, or bigotry or conditioning but is fucking well empirical, evidence of own eyes and emptied fucking pockets. Is worse than fucking Jock for being thieving useless bastard. All cruel, violent shit-dumping vandals. Stanislav walk around Handsworth, Moss Side or Gorbals in middle of fucking night and not give a fuck; wouldn't want to be in same square mile as bunch of Irish tinkers. All pleading persecution and racism. Fucking horrible bastards. Good for fuck all.
Loopy, new age, crystal eating travellers is one thing. Hardcore diddycoy is something else altogether.
Not in same criminal ballpark as politician and banker and BBC board of fucking governor and Toilets Maguire and Piers Moron and Kneepads White and Ministry of Defence and David Blunkett and Tony Blair and John Prescott and Nancy Brown and Alistair Campbell; nowhere near. Daily encounter, however, with barrack room lawyer gypsy must be soul-destroying, like feral youth and noisy, belligerent Rastaman. Is failure of government and establishment to moderate, integrate, assimilate.
Outsider, cowboy junkie angel outlaw is all very well, in art and literature. But simply cannot have convoys of non-tax-paying horse thieves and itinerant drive-laying cowboys coming and shitting in the front garden. Is what you might call further failure of multi-culturalism industry - Darcus, Jasper, Ken et al
So, much as Lady Tessa is vile, horrible incompetent hypocrite who will beggar London to get these fucking games open and should be swinging from lamp post with hubby cannot, nevertheless, support the gypsies. Neither revolutionary, anarchic or even iconoclastic, theirs is a road to Nowhere, a culture of ducking and diving, no art, no music, no crafts, no skills, save blagging, even the rude painting of horse-drawn caravans long fallen away; there is nothing worth saving but their own bilious, exclusive self-regard; some fragments of cod Romany and bitter slang. These are no charming roguish raggle-taggle gypsies-o but cheating, bullying, poverty-pleading flat Earthers in big motor homes and flash Mercs. Fuck 'em.