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This eejit Truth League seems to be under the impression he has some kind of leverage over people. I suppose he'll 'ban' me next from whatever digital shithole he hangs upside down in :)

What a Mongo.
 
He carries this imaginary ban-hammer with him everywhere he goes. Even to the toilet.

I think his Dad must have clattered him a few too many times around the bonce, because his general demeanour leaves a lot to be desired. But if it makes him feel better imagining he's Captain A of the fucking A Team then best leave him too it. He generally runs out of steam after his eleventh tin of Dutch Gold. So we have a way to go just yet. He's some fucking tulip though: he turned all of his best mates from the A Team against himself and now Jambo-no-mates has become Jambo-fuck-everything.

That ban-hammer?

It's actually a giant kid's pink balloon with frills hanging off it.

Matches his pissy-yellow knickers just right.
 
All this drama across these fora is like a game of chess to our Jambo. Just he's not very good at it. He always opens with the King's Indian attack, starts shovelling out the gambits at a fierce rate, and follows up with the Sicilian Defense, French Defense, Scandinavian, and the Slav. Then inevitably his little anti-white flag goes up. You'd almost feel sorry for him.
 
roc_abilly said:
All this drama across these fora is like a game of chess to our Jambo. Just he's not very good at it. He always opens with the King's Indian attack, starts shovelling out the gambits at a fierce rate, and follows up with the Sicilian Defense, French Defense, Scandinavian, and the Slav. Then inevitably his little anti-white flag goes up. You'd almost feel sorry for him.
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What in the whole wide world of fuck (WWWOF) would you know about the chess

The only thing anyone really needs to know about you and chess, is that you, just like Doggy, had the brazen stupidity to pretend to know how to play it (in public)
 
roc_abilly said:
Or you could see it as pretty consistent coming from O'Dea.

The guy who was forced to resign for giving false evidence on oath in the "brothelgate" libel case.

And then went on Marian Finucane crying about how he was just a simple fellow who had "lost his job" and how he was writing and reading a lot to help him deal with his unemployment etc.

I.e. he always had the characteristic of the so called "far right" of making himself out to be the victim.

Whether it was blaming the ECB for everything that happened under the government he was a part of, or saying that the Cabinet he was a part of was "bounced into issuing the bank guarantee" etc.

Or his memory lapses as minister of defence, his advocating that they raid private pension funds to pay for the banking crisis, his voting for a huge hike in the third-level registration fee... despite being totally opposed to it...

That's just off the top of my head. So point being he absolutely has the character and demeanour and outlook to chime in with this sort of shite, using these type of dumb politicised phrases about "playing to the woke gallery", and meaningless appeals designed to evoke an emotional response over a factual response saying she should instead deal with community crime etc.

That is not to say McEntee is getting everything right, far from it. But the fact that O'Dea comes out and witters like this, must mean she is getting something right, at least.
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No it's actually a good article (granted it may have been penned for opportunistic reasons).

I think there is a general feeling abroad that the the political class (you can throw in the media clowns as well) are completely detached from the lives of ordinary people, and completely in hoc to the NGO sector in particular.

While communities up and down the country are abandoned to feral gangs (see Cherry Orchard/Finglas recently), the Minister for No Justice and the other gombeens offer nothing but vacuous virtue signalling, pandering to fashionable, right-on causes that are alien to the vast majority of the population.

So you can see where's he coming from.
 
Buachaill Dana said:
Aren't you divorced and jobless? Glass houses and all that...
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Nah, I'm slim - and happy.

Big difference.

You have to laugh at some Irish people's notions about everyday life events. 99% of them think that any and every divorce means misery and pain. They can't get their heads around the notion that up here we don't see things that way. Not every divorce is down to nasty or violent relationships. Sometimes we find ourselves realizing that life would be better for both of us if we set each other free. It doesn't mean we'll be enemies, or never see each other again, or that the person you just separated from must be avoided and ignored permanently.

That's just so childish and immature.

I had a great marriage, we both did. Then we decided after twelve years to let each other go. We celebrated it with a three day cruise of fun and passion. Then we came home and got on with our lives.

Seems to me that the Irish are just about the dimmest and most short-sighted little gobshites in the entire EU zone. Between religion fucking them up as children through a wasted life of drink and drugs, failed marriages elicit an image of some shitty little housing estate couple on the dole and drinking themselves into oblivion. The kids gone feral through neglect. The neighbourhood filthy with garbage everywhere and burned out stolen cars on every other street corner.

But thankfully life isn't like that up here. I still get the postcards at Christmas and on vacation from the parents. I still meet my ex for dinner once in a while. We're in touch and available to each other should the need arise. We don't hate each other, why would we? Where do you get that notion from?

Immaturity and irresponsibility, your point of view is riddled with flaws.

You need to grow up, get yourself any kind of life.

If your past experiences led you to believe you have to act as though you now hate the person you loved until recently, then life isn't going to be too much fun for you. I came into this world alone. And I ventured out alone too. Met the girl of my dreams and she met me the same. We had over a decade of happiness together. Why stay together if the sheen's dulled slightly? I want to enjoy my life. I want and need to be free to do the things I love the most: travel, study, create, be alone with my thoughts, write the chapters of my book, have new and interesting experiences (it is after all a candy shop up here if you're tall, dark, and handsome) but to always return to myself, my space, my things done in my way. She too is also very happy with her life, she's much younger than me, so letting her go was the right thing to do. I'm guessing that that's the part that freaks you out the most?

Being left - dumped?

Not I.

I took my ex by the hand and we sailed the Baltic Sea to the old ports and had a wonderful, happy, and very moving last goodbye to us as a couple. The we went back to our own lives. Does that scare you too? Perhaps your childhood experiences were mostly negative? Checked your self esteem lately? Or do you measure your life events depending on how others perceive them? Your partner (if you have one) isn't an anchor for you to cling to. He/she is a person in his/her/its own right - and is entitled to have all the experiences he/she/it wants.

Tying your partner to the chair isn't a healthy relationship in any way. It's a waste of yours and their lives. Needing someone so much that you can't let them alone for ten minutes without falling apart isn't very healthy either. Being afraid of being alone isn't brave, it's cowardly. Hanging on to a failed relationship isn't brave or strong - it's weak and revolting.


Knowing how to preserve what will become a lifetime of friendship - even after a routine divorce - shows kindness, understanding, and acceptance. All strong traits in any male or female. Your point of view (while intended to hurt) makes me think that you're of the weaker character type: needy, insecure, whiny, clinging and overbearing, afraid to be alone. You seem to have the need for someone else to be your foundation. But you can't build your life on top of someone else's and expect either of you to be happy.

So by all means - try to hurt me - see if you can.

Because it hardly matters to me; it only cements my perceptions: that you're not a man, you're a parasite.

Yes, I'm single. Yes, I live alone. Yes, I have ladies, but no - I don't want to marry again, not even live with someone again. I like it like this: surrounded by my instruments, my art studio, my work, my books and my drum-sets in the lounge, guitars and horns, scattered everywhere and ready to be played the moment I feel like it. I don't have to accommodate another person's lifestyle or wishes, I do it my way. It doesn't frighten me, because I'm happy - a loner, like I've always been. So if you think your snide comment means anything to me, then I'll tell you this:

I know how you think, how you feel.

You're a weakling, and you know if you found yourself in my position, then you'd do the only thing you know how to do. Give up and go home to Ireland. Curl up in a ball and die. Like most Irish 'men' I know. Weak, scared, dependent, a drone, oblivious to the various and delectable experiences life has to offer. So tonight when you lay down beside he/she/it, remind yourself that the heifer lying beside you is the same heifer you'll awaken to for the rest of your life. Until you die or they do. Even then you'll still be lost and casting about.

The typical Irish man - the same breed I left far behind me decades ago.

Buachaill Dana said:
Publish my posts you coward.
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And I bet that's exactly how you speak to your significant other - and they to you.

No wonder you're so fucking angry.

And dumb.
 
I don't mind his sad little jibes even a bit. It's the first thing Paddy always does when he's cornered and reminded of his gross stupidity and immaturity. This one likely watches too many American TV shows, you can tell by his world view - or rather the complete lack of one. Red top newspapers and Twitter. Hops onto the 'political' blogs to go on about how shite life is in Ireland, but still can't cope with Jamal and Muhammud driving a nicer car than his own, and getting their rent paid by his tax-dollar - that's if he's employable at all.

There's always some jerk looking to take a ride in my slipstream. His type toss an insult at you, then run back to Arsefield's and Pish to tell everyone how they just took down the Mowl. It never ceases to amuse me how personally these guys take it all. They're just typed words on a screen. Not that many people ever see them, nor even imagine they exist. But these twats of @Buachaill Dana's stripe are ten a penny on niche sites like these. Ireland's full of them. Which is the main reason I left. But he's stuck where he is with the fat heifer for a wife and a council house on some grim and sprawling estate, the streets lined with burnt out cars and graffiti. His kids running wild and with records up to their elbows by the time they turn sixteen.

Honestly, you'd be angry yourself if you let your life slip through your fingers because you were too weak and too ignorant to see the longer term picture. A knacker by any other name is still just a knacker. The shitty little island is spilling over with them. They can't stand to see a person do well for themselves, drives them absolutely loo-lah.

They say you can't change your class, whether on the top levels with money and power, or on the flip side with debts and an incapacity to figure out where it all went wrong. I came from the ghetto, but I educated myself. Now I live a wonderful life in a wonderful country that appreciates my talents and skills and pays me accordingly. The Finns around me also make sure to catch my eye and say hello. Everyone loves the happy Irish guy with the broad grin on his face and a few words of good humour to pass the moments we meet.

I try to imagine myself walking across O'Connell Bridge: how would I feel right now were I in Dublin? What would the overwhelming feeling be? For me it's horror. The mundanity of it all: the junkies, the homelessness, the tents, the desperation, the acrid smell of Temple Bar, a mixture of piss and bleach. The massive cost of everyday things. The waiting around for public transport and the dope-heads down the back spliffing away. The endless rain, the dark clouds perpetually overhead. The endless bad news and the cycle of events turning from one horrible day to the next, never improving, only ever getting worse.

A muted Samuel Beckett-esque dystopia of misery and fear.

And repetition.

The shit never stops hitting the fan, but the good news today will be tomorrow's history - especially when you're stuck on the hamster wheel with no way off. Where today's bad news will only be trumped by tomorrow's even worse news. And around and around it goes. A puerile state administration which readily admits to fucking everything from the state propaganda vehicle in RTE to the parliament itself up, yet still insists that even though 'lessons have been learned, a corner is being turned, this is no time to place blame' still insists its prime minister is worth paying several times the amounts any other EU country pays theirs. They're actually telling you that they have and will continue to make gross mistakes, but that that doesn't matter, because you have to 'take a forward-looking view on these things'.

And Paddy swallows it whole.

The likes of Dee Forbes, like Angela Kerins, simply upped and walked out when they were rumbled. And Paddy now has to fork out for their pensions to be paid, their personal securities locked tight in rings of steel. By Paddy's own volition. Criminality everywhere you look. Dead bodies, raped children, babies in sewers. Young single mothers out on the estates, their husbands in the pubs and bookies all day and night. The massive overpricing of absolutely fucking everything. Rent fees from outer fucking space. And for what? Grim little box-like flats and houses that can't retain any heat due to being so shoddily built. Everything you see is just crappy, cheap, knocked up. And still Paddy just sits there in a hump.

No taste, no sophistication. No time, no joy, no love, and no fun.

Through the nose it is then.

The sad bastards.

David said:
@Buachaill Dana

Enough of the personal attacks. You're on thin ice here. I'd buckle up if I were you.
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Let him at it - he's a newbie, doesn't really know how deep the dark water beneath is.

Another fairly typical Arsefield's drinker, they're ten a penny over there.
 
Absolutely. Though I'm not the type to ham up my Irish-ness, I still do my best to represent us as at the very least not being the savage Catholic nation we're often made out to be, but one must accept that The Troubles, Guinness, and U2 are still our biggest exports. Apart from people, that is. What we view as British imperialism invading the homeland, others view in the same way we Irish consider British activities in India, Guyana, and elsewhere as the British just being themselves and conquering and colonizing the world.

Except we now live in a completely different paradigm, yet it's still true that most of the time we Irish ex-pats are always expected to see both sides in the Northern Ireland conflict as passively and in the same manner they do themselves as distant observers. But of course it feels different for us when we're abroad from the little island. We're all affected by it one way or another. I'll readily admit that having a casual conversation about Ireland with another punter in say a bar scenario and then hearing that they're going over for studies/work? Then I'll hold nothing back. I would NOT send an innocent and trusting person over to Dublin thinking it's going to be all jigs, reels, and storytelling.

A younger girl from one project I worked with was accepted into the National College Of Art out in Dunlaoire. When she asked if I could help finding her a place to rent - shared or single - I agreed. I failed completely, but before admitting defeat, I showed her some choice articles about Dublin and its rental accommodation. She got the point eventually, but it was still hard for her to believe, that people were paying so much for so very little. I never heard back from her and I hope she survived it, but there was no way I would allow a young person fall into the gaping maw that is life in Ireland. It may have disappointed her to hear it from me, but she needed to know, and that forced my hand.

Frankly, I'm embarrassed meeting Finns and other Scandic people who've been over. You can tell that they get it, they love the lifestyle and the attitude and the ease of things based on all the stereotypes. But they also get that they're being gouged blind and that, as an island nation, we're far too expensive for such lousy quality goods. We're mutton dressed up as lamb. We have the attitude and reputation of being tough little fighters, but we fold like a five euro note. Every time.

I'm now beyond the point of having lived longer in Finland than I ever did in Ireland, so to me it's ALL ancient history.

I can mention my being Irish should the issue come up, but most of the time I try to avoid it.

Unless it's among friends - I helped one guy on Pish when he told me he was moving to Tampere and needed some guidance. I did everything I could for him, but he arrived and left within ten days. If it's a Finnish person asking me the same, then I'll give them plenty to think about before they even alight onto the stony grey soil.
 
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