Marxist Sheep May Safely Graze

15

Greetings to all my fellow “fascists” and “Nazis”. It was great seeing you at Southern’s talk on Friday.

We were told from the start, those of us that went, that we’re terrible people. Extreme. Far-right. Fascists. Racist dogs.

Lauren Southern is a Facist:

Facist privilege: when you have a face ten times cuter than average, and you use it for political advantage. Check your privilege, Lauren, you facist. How dare you be so hot.

We are bad people. Bad, dangerous people. So bad and so dangerous that the communists outside blocked the Hume in protest at our evil ideology, and they fought the police line to try and get at us. They are so utterly convinced of the truth of what they’re saying that they’ll stop at nothing. They’ll send girls in, alone and unprotected, to stand up among five hundred “racist dogs” and scream their infantile disapproval.

Wait, that stacks up … doesn’t it?

We laughed at the five hecklers who paid for tickets to the event so that they could stand up and scream something or other, before being promptly removed. We shouted and cheered as the security guards removed them from the premises.

That was all.

This one managed to end up on stage, and was hauled off like a sack of flour, screaming “I love refugees!”

Ok, sweetie.

They all knew they weren’t risking any harm. No, being laughed at by five hundred people doesn’t count. They were as safe with us as if they’d been in day-care where they belonged.

The outer darkness beyond the wall, where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Here is the rabble that gave the heavy police presence a reason to be there. If the situation was reversed, would we be similarly safe with them?

I think not.

They know we’re not out for violence – but they are. They’re like a toddler, biting and swinging punches at the kneecaps of an adult, knowing full well that the adult in question is more than capable of picking them up and lobbing them through the nearest window – but will not do it. We’re not like them. They’re so sure of it that they have no qualms about sending in girls to infiltrate our meeting.

Spare me this talk about how terrible we are. Inside our meeting, among five hundred “Nazis”, sheep may safely graze. And they know it.

It’s your XYZ.