Monday, 6 July 2009
MORE GAY MARCHERS
GAY ULSTERMEN PREPARE FOR THEIR BIG DAY
For centuries, uptight, fucked-up Orangemen have marched through the ghettoised, township, Catholic enclaves of Ulster, piping their shitty, tinny wee pipes, beating their terrifying Lambeg drums; the Men, as they call themselves, dancing around one another,
They’ll be out soon, marching, Ulster’s finest;
Wiser, better-schooled heads than ours have recognised an emotional or hormonal state in men which is not "flight or fight" but "fight or fuck" where either option will satisfy the belligerents; we see it in the depravity of Uncle Sam's fat, crewcut psychobastard Nazi Mommas boys, sexually humiliating captured, defenceless Ay-rabs, we see it in poor wee Jock, his head wrecked by years of Labour and now SNP brainwashing but we see it writ large in the Loyal Orange Lodges of Northern Ireland, bullying, intimidation and brutality made Worship, made Patriotism.
Anyone who thinks that the Gay Pride marchers are revolting, as many of them studiedly are, should pop over to the UK’s lunatic fringe, Belfast or Enniskillen or Portadown, in time for the Eleventh night, on which effigies of Pope Nazi will be burned on bonfires and the Twelfth Day, on which thousands of drunken sectarian bigots will strut their stuff for one another, bless, shouting No Surrender! as though they had anything worth giving away.