Hate As Virtue Among The Politically Correct: Essay By Brendan O’Neill

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A superb essay but Brendan O’Neill, on neo-PC acceptable hatred of certain groups of people, such as older generations, Christians, labour (in the UK,) southerners in the U.S. and so forth.

O’Neill’s essay: “Who You’re Allowed To Hate,” is a contemporary companion piece to Havel’s An Anatomy Of Hatebut Havel was able to remain more lofty while O’Neill writes from the street, where rocks and bottles are flying. 

Brendan O’Neill’s Wikipedia page has all the hate graffiti of somebody who dared speak out against Uni-Thought from the PC-Elite. (“Uni-thought” is my term for the big grey cloud that seeks to absorb any and all dissent from PC Global Elite Basics and convert it to virtual filth.)

Footnote: I was suspicious myself (and still am) of the ideological (see Wikipedia) progression from the British Revolutionary Communist Party to Living Marxism, to Spiked Online, to the anti-environmentalist movement and “Sense About Science” (which attacked countless factions of alternative medicine voices and dissenting scientists) but I have to admit the book title, Can I Recycle My Granny? by “Ethan Greenhart” is funny.

Comments

  1. Celia Farber says:

    Brother, I think O’Neill was documenting specific instances. When Gary says he “nailed” it, I tend to agree, unless what he says is no has not occurred, which I doubt. He documents as he goes. So…would you have me un-nail it— what O’Neill has identified as a massive paradox of hate among the hate hygienists of political correctness and now Big Bank Eurocrats?

    Is his premise wrong? Are his facts wrong? Are his conclusions wrong?

    I am willing to agree you can be wrong about nothing in your stack-o-facts but still be ‘wrong’ in that you are missing the story of the era. Calling it something it isn’t.

  2. Brother Strawberry says:

    Eager for opportunity to reply to this essay in a manner hopefully seen worthy by Celia of posting on The Truth Barrier i am nevertheless once again walking barefoot through that cold mountain stream to sit beside the river it feeds nourishing the god that is in me. The god that is I.
    Suffice for the moment to note that despite extensive connections in the homosexual community and my regular countering of anti-gay “preachers” at Pride marches, soldier funerals and even the memorial for Mister Rogers, I have never heard anyone in the LGBTQ community support, praise or condone the burning of churches or shooting of church members gathering for bible study. I am however aware of preachers praising the Orlando massacre in their gods name and declaring AIDS as proof of their gods condemnation of the homosexual lifestyle.
    Some of my best friends are southerners and even they mock the rednecks down the road who drive a pick-up truck emblazoned with a confederate flag license plate next to a bumper sticker that reads “if I’d known this I would have picked my own damn cotton.”
    Ignorance is a state of mind not location.
    Holding aloft my sign quoting Christ’s commandment to “Love One Another” as challenge to the knuckle-dragging xtian “preachers” protesting a recent Pride event i was unsurprised by the venomous hate spewed at me by those declaring homosexuals an abomination of the god they claim created everything including homosexuality.
    “Fu@?ing queer!” muttered the chubbiest of the three speakers of gods word penned in their barricaded free speech zone behind me. There are less of them every year, thank god. Those words were directed into my ear. I turned smiling toward their source.
    “If that be intended as a slur toward my presumed sexuality” I respond ” please be aware that while I see nothing wrong with being gay and do not consider it an insult, I am married in a sixteen year heterosexual, monogamous relationship. My wife and I are here today specifically to counter your ignorance, blasphemy and hypocrisy. She is actually helping to carry that big rainbow flag.”
    “You’re still a fu@$ing queer!” insists the preacher as his rising blood pressure converts the pale whiteness of his skin to a hue better blending with the red of his shirt.
    “You do realize the homophobia you exhibit is commonly demonstrated as the result of repressed homosexual desire?” I ask, refraining from blowing a kiss before returning my attention to shouting “This is my commandment that you love one another!” at the passing parade.
    The preacher in my image of satan soon returns. This time armed with a large battery powered bullhorn blaring words still directed toward me.
    “Look at the facts!” the mindless, misinformed marionette shouted through mechanical amplification in my ears. “Eighty percent of HIV/AIDS is gay men! That is proof your behavior is a deadly sin and an abomination!”
    Allowing a few minutes of this megaphoned ignorance to fuel my action I step away from my post in front of the barricade where i have been leaning to defy police order and circle round into the protected free-speech zone behind this sad excuse of a man blaring hate from a loudspeaker. Mirroring his behavior with the bull-horn to my ear I position my placement to project my voice directly into his ear and ask loudly “Does your god also hate hemophiliacs?”
    Recognizing that my thirty years of research demonstrating failure of the HIV/AIDS theory would be far beyond his comprehension I further challenge “What about Africans? AIDS is spread heterosexually in Africa. Does your god hate Africans? All Africans? What about babies born to drug addicts? Would your god punish the unborn for the addiction of their parents? What kind of a sick, twisted god do you worship?”
    The amplified hate fell silent. The bull-horn lowered. Apparently a nerve had been struck. With the weight of what seemed its own gravitational pull the bloated body billowing bigotry swung toward me with meaty shoulder aimed and landing squarely center the big red heart on my chest. I love wearing that t-shirt for moments like this.
    “Listen faggot, I ain’t no fu@$ing pacifist. I will pound you right into this pavement!” the preacher growled.
    “In the name of Christ?” I challenged laughing.
    With all due respect to phantom deities I hereby pledge to ceaselessly mock, haunt, expose and ridicule the blasphemy of bigotry, discrimination and hate preached in the name of religious faith.
    Any religious faith.
    Yes, even to hate it for all the evil it embodies.

    Wishing you all the Peace, Hope, Comfort and Love that i have found comes with no dream of reward or fear of punishment in a fabled afterlife.

    Live not in fear of not living.

  3. Gary says:

    He nailed it.

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