The Slow death of Politics.ie

Fire2theRain

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~Snip~
Yeah, so was I. I even got the blame for it when I Shanghaied the thread by *The OD* about the membership and hung them all out to dry.
~Snip~

That is the same person - The OD. He's been a member since 10 October 2005.

Do you think The OD's offence of harassment [IRISH LAW] was being covered up? He received no penalty in June. He continued to post on the same 'Male-bodied transgender inmate in Limerick women's prison' thread. Such an offence would infringe IE Domain Registrant legal Terms and Conditions.
 

Mowl

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That is the same person - The OD. He's been a member since 10 October 2005.

Do you think The OD's offence of harassment [IRISH LAW] was being covered up? He received no penalty in June. He continued to post on the same 'Male-bodied transgender inmate in Limerick women's prison' thread. Such an offence would infringe IE Domain Registrant legal Terms and Conditions.
Again, I'm so far out of the loop with P.ie that I couldn't answer that question honestly or with confidence.

What I can say is that he was an extremely nasty poster to deal with in my time there. Selecting me for target practice might have seemed a decent propostition to him at the time, but he made a very silly mistake in thinking that a newbie like me on P.ie would fold after being targeted by both OD himself and then the whole clique, the same clique who have now taken up their perch on the GPO site: seen that one? They made Val a moderator over there. Yes, you heard right: Val, the clown car farmer from Cavan.

He decided to use his moderator/legal advisor/Irish visionary/real true educational - not fake news to set himself up as Ireland's new Charlie Bird.

I'm told that most of the threads over there descend into 'has to be Mowl, and 'another Mowl sock' type ridiculousness. Unfortunately for me I can't even see what he says about me anymore because he has my IP blocked, thereby preventing me from enjoying his clown car antics in investigating me. That he has at this stage gotten himself barred from here, from P.ie, Twitter, Facebook, PW.Org, Politics Irish, Political Isle, and is presently making a complete tit of himself with his mad television channel on youtube, ensures the barrel is never short of laughs.

Take this excellent piece he made on 9/11? Now this is some classic Val shit. On the anniversary of the New York attacks and the destruction of the World Trade Centre along with the deaths of four or five thousand heads and the pulling of a few other dubiously crucial buildings, Val decides the best way to remember and honour the dead is with a recipe for cauliflower cheese.

Seriously.

Here. look:


I also remember The OD showed up on DeeDee's site, Politics Isle - a newish site that DS86DS set up as a personal project to hit back at his detractors. It's light and fun and there's a few entertainingly eccentric players over there. I drop in most days and there's usually something going on about Val's latest antics.

When the OD type showed up, he was very polite to me personally, which was kind of unnerving.

He seemed to hate me and want me dead back then on his infamous thread about personal feeling about other members on P.ie.

Nowadays, he appears rather mute.

Check Val's jumpers in terms of the screen grab (not capped, @Oliver Plunkett) captured below? This man wears the same jumpers for weeks on end while working on his farm and stepping into and out of cow pats, pig shite, chicken shit, and slurry pits: never mind wiping the sweat, snot, and phlegm into his sleeves all day and night. Then goes home, into the kitchen itself, and puts on the wife's pinny and grabs her frying pan.

Ask yourself: would you eat a meal served up a by slurry-stinking old goat?

Nah, me neither.

Still - he's a gas man.

Mostly methane, mind you - but still, gas.


Untitled3e9dd07995d93c90.md.jpg
 
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Wagmore

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Thank you for that - truth is: nobody tells me when I've been deleted, particularly the mod who will remain nameless. Worse, is that they never say why either. Yesterday it seems I went over some line and the site owner took offense at something I said. I was on restricted posting for a while but then it was lifted. There wasn't any explanation for that either but things seem calmer now, at least at this end of the deal.

And I absolutely agree: the house religious types have been adding endless nails to their own coffin with their stuffiness, offensiveness, anger, greed, impatience, gluttony, vengeance, and near-violent intent towards non-believers. They seem to think that such behaviour will please their god and lubricate the rails into heaven when they die.

Sadly, they seem to have forgotten that Jayzus himself was apparently a decent auld skin: wanted to help the poor and the meek, wanted to forgive his worst enemies their sins against his Father, wanted to feed the masses with a basket of loaves and fishes, and ended up nailed to a tree for all his efforts.

Turning the other cheek did him fuck all good either: they just kept slapping him upside the chops regardless.

Poor bastard had to die and then rise again like Lazarus crawling out of a shallow grave a few days later.

Even that didn't appease his more manic followers who want to taste blood, veins, and guts in their teeth all day every day.

I'd imagine that if there is a heaven (which I seriously doubt) that there's a special corner for the likes of those lads on here who wish death, rape, poverty, fire, brimstone, and worse on their fellow man. They even fall prey to envy: and me just a Ballyer boy? I thought that money and access and privilege brought a certain wisdom not available to all, but it seems not. Envy can eat at the very soul of the militant Catholic and even makes them envy the wisdom of a simple and poor boy like me. Hence all the hate, all the wishing that I get hurt and raped and beaten down.

It's hardly the better or more positive side of their religion and beliefs, but then again I doubt anything good ever comes from the angered Catholic when the atheists come knocking at the fence around their unhappy encampment. They circle the wagons and shoot anything that moves. Then congratulate each other on their kill before settling back down on their knees to appease their god - whom they now believe loves them all the more for their hypocrisy and violence toward their fellow Irishmen. The mind truly boggles at such deviance and hate in and amongst our insane religious circles.
No disrespect mate but that's a very simple, simplistic and unsophisticated view of Christian belief and Christians. Have you ever read Dostoevsky? It's theology as understood by Father Ted. Take aim at the lowest common denominator and keep shooting.
 

Wagmore

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I have to hand it to you for your tenacity and obviously un-clenched teeth in that reply.

It would go a long way towards building a bridge between believers and atheists like myself were there more of it around.

Sadly, the more prevalent version of Irish Roman Catholic Christendom is far more visceral and inclined to spite and spitting hatred.

As the honourable member said up-thread: the stricter Irish Catholics on here do more to rid the rest of us of their church by us simply poking at them once in a while and then leaving them to their own devices. They're the snake that eats its own tail - in vivid colour by Panasonic and with a stereo soundtrack worthy of Brian Eno producing Ozzy Osbourne doing an album of classic jazz covers with a string section and choir of angels in high-heels and black stocking suspenders.

Instead of a Catherine Wheel they use the add-on wheels for a kiddie tricycle to iron out any issues with the more disgruntled wing of Irish atheism, cycling to and fro like the kid in Kubrick's classic, 'The Shining'. Except in their case they all carry axes and no child is safe to trike around the shop on their own.

I've yet to meet a Finnish person who says that they got their moral bottom line from the Lutheran religion - most have never had religious indoctrination at all.

Same for me - except I came through the De La Salle/violent/intimidating/predatory Roman Catholic school-type approach due to circumstances beyond my control. And I managed to emerge out the other side with my mind and body intact - and without the need for a set of God-given rules to tell me what was obviously wrong and obviously right. I learned all that just watching the sick fuckers every day and seeing first hand what they did to kids around me. And got away with it most of the time. But not with me: much as that may hurt and disappoint a certain off-kilter Catholic mod on here and his vengeful and gluttonous company. I wasn't raped, much as you might wish it upon me.

But if you need some gore, I'll offer you this: one of them (the head-brother in De La Salle) got as close as making me stand and face the wall of his office and then he put his hands on my shoulders to keep me still while he was rubbing is nose on the crown of my head - smelling my hair.

I took one step forward, yelled out, and then turned and walked home and told Mam what just happened.

Father got home from work a few hours later and Mam told him what I said and he called me over to have a one-to-one with him.

Told me I did well walking out and coming home and to do the same if it ever happened again.

I found out later that the next morning he visited the house the brothers lived in next to the school and had the housekeeper get the head brother up as there was an emergency.

The head brother wasn't seen for at least a week, and by then his eyes had begun to open and the bruises turned to yellow.

He never spoke to nor looked at me again after that.

I'm glad I come from such fine stock: they remind of the sadness we all feel for the more privileged Catholics on here, the type who wish rape on little children.

The type who come from inherited money and inherited values too - the very scum of Irish society.

But hey - if the ten militant commandos does it for you - then good luck with that.

I'll stick with Darwin.
Fair enough. You crossed swords with some nasty fkers. And your Dad was a hero. The thing is they were nasty fkers that had no business representing anything other than a nasty fker secret society. You're wrong to confuse the message with the messenger.
 

Mowl

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I don't know who this 'Peg' is but I am sure that she will plead her innocence on that ominous charge. The memoir of Peig Sayers, on the other hand, is a wonderful read.

Welcome Eriugena.

No disrespect mate but that's a very simple, simplistic and unsophisticated view of Christian belief and Christians. Have you ever read Dostoevsky? It's theology as understood by Father Ted. Take aim at the lowest common denominator and keep shooting.
Each man to his own view: and I can only reflect on my own personal experience with the church to have come to these conclusions about the church as an institution which at the time controlled both our education and health, never mind our spiritual well-being. I was born into the poverty of a working class family in Ballyfermot, and was given the same education as anyone else from there. It wasn't up to much - just enough to keep us educated as to how to stand in line on the factory floor and do as we were told.

In my own case, I wasn't very good at taking orders masked as educational instruction. I also resented the fact that the books I brought to school which weren't part of my curriculum were usually taken away from me. I'd have to get my Mom on the case to go and get my books back. They seemed to hate and despise an intelligent kid who repeatedly asked a lot of questions but got no answers that ever made any sense to me.

And yes: I've read Dostoevsky, much as it pissed off my teachers in secondary school. Nothing worse than answering an angry Christian brother with a quote that flew over his thick head:

If there is no God, everything is permitted.

Fair enough. You crossed swords with some nasty fkers. And your Dad was a hero. The thing is they were nasty fkers that had no business representing anything other than a nasty fker secret society. You're wrong to confuse the message with the messenger.
To the eyes of a child, the violence inflicted upon them for asking too many questions and refusing to accept the word 'faith' as an answer to everything on,ly to find that your jacket is tanned for it tends to eat away at the trust one might have in brutal fairy tales like those in the bibles we had rammed down our collective throat.

Viewed in that light, the message matters nought if it's been delivered by a violent and impatient messenger.#

The child will only remember the horror of the violence they endured, and not the carefully worded message apparently from a god somewhere up in the clouds.

Regarding my Father: thank you, I think so too, and I think of him every day since he left this world at the tender age of just forty-four.

As the life-long atheist he was, I'm quite sure his soul rests comfortably in my memory - where he's always alive and his eyes burning bright.
 

Wagmore

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Each man to his own view: and I can only reflect on my own personal experience with the church to have come to these conclusions about the church as an institution which at the time controlled both our education and health, never mind our spiritual well-being. I was born into the poverty of a working class family in Ballyfermot, and was given the same education as anyone else from there. It wasn't up to much - just enough to keep us educated as to how to stand in line on the factory floor and do as we were told.

In my own case, I wasn't very good at taking orders masked as educational instruction. I also resented the fact that the books I brought to school which weren't part of my curriculum were usually taken away from me. I'd have to get my Mom on the case to go and get my books back. They seemed to hate and despise an intelligent kid who repeatedly asked a lot of questions but got no answers that ever made any sense to me.

And yes: I've read Dostoevsky, much as it pissed off my teachers in secondary school. Nothing worse than answering an angry Christian brother with a quote that flew over his thick head:

If there is no God, everything is permitted.



To the eyes of a child, the violence inflicted upon them for asking too many questions and refusing to accept the word 'faith' as an answer to everything on,ly to find that your jacket is tanned for it tends to eat away at the trust one might have in brutal fairy tales like those in the bibles we had rammed down our collective throat.

Viewed in that light, the message matters nought if it's been delivered by a violent and impatient messenger.#

The child will only remember the horror of the violence they endured, and not the carefully worded message apparently from a god somewhere up in the clouds.

Regarding my Father: thank you, I think so too, and I think of him every day since he left this world at the tender age of just forty-four.

As the life-long atheist he was, I'm quite sure his soul rests comfortably in my memory - where he's always alive and his eyes burning bright.
Jeez- no can't and won't argue with any of that Evil fkers every one to pull that sort of violence with kids You've done very well not to be terminally embittered. If I'd got a fraction of what you witnessed, think I'd want to kill the khunts. Hope I didn't come across as lacking empathy. Certainly not intention.
PS- have no time for church as an "institution." Have no proof or major suspicions, but wouldn't take much persuading to believe it's fundamentals are Satanic. By their works shall he know them and all that 👍
 

Mowl

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Jeez- no can't and won't argue with any of that Evil fkers every one to pull that sort of violence with kids You've done very well not to be terminally embittered. If I'd got a fraction of what you witnessed, think I'd want to kill the khunts. Hope I didn't come across as lacking empathy. Certainly not intention.
Not at all, and don't worry - if anything, my experiences in my Irish life are to me also full of comedy. I've learned to laugh at what I cannot and could not change. I suppose I had to because to allow it to taint my entire life would be a kind of suicide in itself.

Just like how you mention Father Ted earlier, I too can make light of what is really a terribly dark subject matter.

But after the lessons learned, I can also be proactive in helping those around me to better understand and therefore accept and forgive what they were put through as well. Were we all bitter and angry, then chances are it's our own little circle of society that we would ourselves destroy. We all went through it, we all knew what was going on, but few had the temerity to say it out loud. That's where I had an advantage: my Father was absolutely atheist, had no time for fairy tales but always made a point of pulling me close to watch documents about history, nature, the world and the universe we're sharing.

Mother, on the other hand - thought it best to lean towards the church and make sure we had an all-round education that understood both sides of the argument: after all, you cannot claim to be an atheist without first immersing yourself in the biblical message and at least trying to be Catholic and Christian in your actions.

In our house, the division between Mam's light-hearted faith and Dad's no-nonsense atheism actually gave us some magical Sunday dinner conversations. The upshot of those family chats were the house rule that, at age twelve - you now had the right to refuse or accept the church. If you chose it, then that was your own personal business and no questions would be asked. If you chose not to attend - then an explanation was required so that you actually had to have a worked out reason to say yes or no to the god question. For me, it was very easy: the violence they exercised on me, the sexual depravity they exercised on others, and the lies - the endless lies about the Jesus bloke and that whole holy trinity idea - all spoke for itself.

Nowadays even my Mother's given up on the church.

I can't help but admire and love her all the more for that, especially at her delicate age.
 

Wagmore

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Not at all, and don't worry - if anything, my experiences in my Irish life are to me also full of comedy. I've learned to laugh at what I cannot and could not change. I suppose I had to because to allow it to taint my entire life would be a kind of suicide in itself.

Just like how you mention Father Ted earlier, I too can make light of what is really a terribly dark subject matter.

But after the lessons learned, I can also be proactive in helping those around me to better understand and therefore accept and forgive what they were put through as well. Were we all bitter and angry, then chances are it's our own little circle of society that we would ourselves destroy. We all went through it, we all knew what was going on, but few had the temerity to say it out loud. That's where I had an advantage: my Father was absolutely atheist, had no time for fairy tales but always made a point of pulling me close to watch documents about history, nature, the world and the universe we're sharing.

Mother, on the other hand - thought it best to lean towards the church and make sure we had an all-round education that understood both sides of the argument: after all, you cannot claim to be an atheist without first immersing yourself in the biblical message and at least trying to be Catholic and Christian in your actions.

In our house, the division between Mam's light-hearted faith and Dad's no-nonsense atheism actually gave us some magical Sunday dinner conversations. The upshot of those family chats were the house rule that, at age twelve - you now had the right to refuse or accept the church. If you chose it, then that was your own personal business and no questions would be asked. If you chose not to attend - then an explanation was required so that you actually had to have a worked out reason to say yes or no to the god question. For me, it was very easy: the violence they exercised on me, the sexual depravity they exercised on others, and the lies - the endless lies about the Jesus bloke and that whole holy trinity idea - all spoke for itself.

Nowadays even my Mother's given up on the church.

I can't help but admire and love her all the more for that, especially at her delicate age.
Interesting. Sounds like dinner table was rich with comic potential. For me, literature was my gateway drug into lapsed atheism and loose Christianity. Both my folks were unthinking Catholics. To my eyes Roman Catholicism was a blight on the nation's psyche and continues to be. If Jesus is who he said he was and I sorta suspect he is, I reckon he's sitting somewhere saying what da fk did they do in my name. The thing is he sorta predicted they would .. . In my eyes, the same dumbfk energy that battered the shyte and polluted the mind of so many is the same impulse that put him on a cross. Not certain about any of this👍
 

Mowl

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Interesting. Sounds like dinner table was rich with comic potential. For me, literature was my gateway drug into lapsed atheism and loose Christianity. Both my folks were unthinking Catholics. To my eyes Roman Catholicism was a blight on the nation's psyche and continues to be. If Jesus is who he said he was and I sorta suspect he is, I reckon he's sitting somewhere saying what da fk did they do in my name. The thing is he sorta predicted they would .. . In my eyes, the same dumbfk energy that battered the shyte and polluted the mind of so many is the same impulse that put him on a cross. Not certain about any of this👍
One hopes that in our bright and hopeful future that all families might take the time to sit and discuss these things together, rather than leaving it to the institutions to educate us to the meaning of life, the existence of a god, the difference between right and wrong - and indeed the hows and whys of it all. All of those other 'delicate' subjects too - like the birds and the bees, good health and sickness, death, the afterlife, and so on.

But then Irish people are very lazy and recalcitrant to make the effort to ever touch on what are generally considered to be 'taboo' subjects in Irish life.

I mean - even the fact that we still use terms like the birds and the bees to describe human reproduction and existence to children speaks for itself. I recall when I got my right knee crushed under the wheel of a coal truck, the kneecap itself was shattered and had to be pinned back together to fuse together and heal, and during that period I missed school for some weeks. But that wasn't a big deal as I was an avid reader and I whiled away the time immersed in all manner of subjects. But I do remember vividly the day when Mam was heading out to do the shopping and I was laid up on the sofa, my leg suspended from a metal frame.

She handed me a book called 'Boys Growing Up' which was all about John & Mary, and it had a picture of a happy kid kicking a ball on the front cover.

I looked at it and asked what it was and she replied that there were some things in this book that might interest me. So I read it and by the time she came back from her chores I was in stitches of laughter. She asked why and I told her that some of the descriptions were hilarious. She asked which ones and I had them bookmarked: 'the first one about John coming home from work and Mary 'nestling' her head on his shoulder' says I.

'What's funny about that?' she asked, to which I replied that if some girl was to 'nestle' her head on MY shoulder that I'd be asking her what the fuck she was doing and what she wanted. If she wanted a ride then surely she could find a better way of letting John/me know?

'Besides, me leg's broke and I'm not in the mood....'

Thankfully, if there's one thing Ballyfermot people have by the bus-load then it's irreverent humour and an unbridled will to find the ridiculousness in all things.

When you come from nothing, considering the notion of nothing naturally becomes a past-time. In many ways, it answered all of my questions about time, space, the universe, this world we live on, and the likelihood of there being a god watching over it all. Bit by bit, humour always replaced what was beaten into us by the church as being hard facts: the wrath of god, the fire and brimstone of hell, the strange notion of limbo and purgatory, and what happens us when we die.

Father was good at explaining things, so when I asked him what it might be like being dead he asked how I felt before I was born.

That kind of existential dark humour saved us all a lot of grief I suppose, and I also foolishly supposed that all families did like we did: take the questions posed by the children seriously and not to talk to them like they were idiots. I was very wrong about that, as I learned every time I got a whallop for laughing during catechism. It's hard to not laugh at the same things Father would explain as matter of fact in contrast to what the Christian brothers were trying to beat into me. Dad made me laugh at things, Mother tried to be serious, but her hidden laughter at his antics with me were absolutely priceless. Even now when I call her, we can go back and relive it all all over again - and both of us laugh at it together.

Lots of idiots on this site consider Ballyfermot people no better than junkies and thieves: I could name names for you, but I think you probably know all too well who exactly they are yourself: I don't mind - it only ever serves to remind me that class and privilege do NOT provide wisdom or basic intelligence.

Quite the opposite in many cases.
 

Wagmore

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One hopes that in our bright and hopeful future that all families might take the time to sit and discuss these things together, rather than leaving it to the institutions to educate us to the meaning of life, the existence of a god, the difference between right and wrong - and indeed the hows and whys of it all. All of those other 'delicate' subjects too - like the birds and the bees, good health and sickness, death, the afterlife, and so on.

But then Irish people are very lazy and recalcitrant to make the effort to ever touch on what are generally considered to be 'taboo' subjects in Irish life.

I mean - even the fact that we still use terms like the birds and the bees to describe human reproduction and existence to children speaks for itself. I recall when I got my right knee crushed under the wheel of a coal truck, the kneecap itself was shattered and had to be pinned back together to fuse together and heal, and during that period I missed school for some weeks. But that wasn't a big deal as I was an avid reader and I whiled away the time immersed in all manner of subjects. But I do remember vividly the day when Mam was heading out to do the shopping and I was laid up on the sofa, my leg suspended from a metal frame.

She handed me a book called 'Boys Growing Up' which was all about John & Mary, and it had a picture of a happy kid kicking a ball on the front cover.

I looked at it and asked what it was and she replied that there were some things in this book that might interest me. So I read it and by the time she came back from her chores I was in stitches of laughter. She asked why and I told her that some of the descriptions were hilarious. She asked which ones and I had them bookmarked: 'the first one about John coming home from work and Mary 'nestling' her head on his shoulder' says I.

'What's funny about that?' she asked, to which I replied that if some girl was to 'nestle' her head on MY shoulder that I'd be asking her what the fuck she was doing and what she wanted. If she wanted a ride then surely she could find a better way of letting John/me know?

'Besides, me leg's broke and I'm not in the mood....'

Thankfully, if there's one thing Ballyfermot people have by the bus-load then it's irreverent humour and an unbridled will to find the ridiculousness in all things.

When you come from nothing, considering the notion of nothing naturally becomes a past-time. In many ways, it answered all of my questions about time, space, the universe, this world we live on, and the likelihood of there being a god watching over it all. Bit by bit, humour always replaced what was beaten into us by the church as being hard facts: the wrath of god, the fire and brimstone of hell, the strange notion of limbo and purgatory, and what happens us when we die.

Father was good at explaining things, so when I asked him what it might be like being dead he asked how I felt before I was born.

That kind of existential dark humour saved us all a lot of grief I suppose, and I also foolishly supposed that all families did like we did: take the questions posed by the children seriously and not to talk to them like they were idiots. I was very wrong about that, as I learned every time I got a whallop for laughing during catechism. It's hard to not laugh at the same things Father would explain as matter of fact in contrast to what the Christian brothers were trying to beat into me. Dad made me laugh at things, Mother tried to be serious, but her hidden laughter at his antics with me were absolutely priceless. Even now when I call her, we can go back and relive it all all over again - and both of us laugh at it together.

Lots of idiots on this site consider Ballyfermot people no better than junkies and thieves: I could name names for you, but I think you probably know all too well who exactly they are yourself: I don't mind - it only ever serves to remind me that class and privilege do NOT provide wisdom or basic intelligence.

Quite the opposite in many cases.
So true about dumbfker snobbery. Helps to get out of the country to see it for what it was/is- pennies looking down on half'pennies my mother used to say. Much of it is a legacy from the RC blight. Imagine we grew up in a country where the PP would announce from the pulpit every families weekly contribution. Your father sounds like a v funny guy as well as having a good right hook👍
 

Fire2theRain

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Again, I'm so far out of the loop with P.ie that I couldn't answer that question honestly or with confidence.

What I can say is that he was an extremely nasty poster to deal with in my time there. Selecting me for target practice might have seemed a decent propostition to him at the time, but he made a very silly mistake in thinking that a newbie like me on P.ie would fold after being targeted by both OD himself and then the whole clique, the same clique who have now taken up their perch on the GPO site: seen that one? They made Val a moderator over there. Yes, you heard right: Val, the clown car farmer from Cavan.

He decided to use his moderator/legal advisor/Irish visionary/real true educational - not fake news to set himself up as Ireland's new Charlie Bird.

I'm told that most of the threads over there descend into 'has to be Mowl, and 'another Mowl sock' type ridiculousness. Unfortunately for me I can't even see what he says about me anymore because he has my IP blocked, thereby preventing me from enjoying his clown car antics in investigating me. That he has at this stage gotten himself barred from here, from P.ie, Twitter, Facebook, PW.Org, Politics Irish, Political Isle, and is presently making a complete tit of himself with his mad television channel on youtube, ensures the barrel is never short of laughs.

Take this excellent piece he made on 9/11? Now this is some classic Val shit. On the anniversary of the New York attacks and the destruction of the World Trade Centre along with the deaths of four or five thousand heads and the pulling of a few other dubiously crucial buildings, Val decides the best way to remember and honour the dead is with a recipe for cauliflower cheese.

Seriously.

Here. look:


I also remember The OD showed up on DeeDee's site, Politics Isle - a newish site that DS86DS set up as a personal project to hit back at his detractors. It's light and fun and there's a few entertainingly eccentric players over there. I drop in most days and there's usually something going on about Val's latest antics.

When the OD type showed up, he was very polite to me personally, which was kind of unnerving.

He seemed to hate me and want me dead back then on his infamous thread about personal feeling about other members on P.ie.

Nowadays, he appears rather mute.

Check Val's jumpers in terms of the screen grab (not capped, @Oliver Plunkett) captured below? This man wears the same jumpers for weeks on end while working on his farm and stepping into and out of cow pats, pig shite, chicken shit, and slurry pits: never mind wiping the sweat, snot, and phlegm into his sleeves all day and night. Then goes home, into the kitchen itself, and puts on the wife's pinny and grabs her frying pan.

Ask yourself: would you eat a meal served up a by slurry-stinking old goat?

Nah, me neither.

Still - he's a gas man.

Mostly methane, mind you - but still, gas.


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I didn't know The OD belonged to the Society of Obsequious Submissives (SOS) politics.ie clique. The SOS made a pact in a - by invitation only - private group if one was threatened, they would all close ranks. A poster called Lxxxxxxx exposed this. He left that group absolutely repulsed by these people.

Ms Z - who egged The OD on - belonged to SOS group, but she denied SOS herd involvement when she was negatively connected to them by association on Shiel's feedback thread - saying; O, I was just having fun with them. SOS used to sit on threads to intimidate other users from backing the OP. How despicable, weak and spineless these members of SOS are.

Mowl, Yeah, The OD used the same tactics with female victim of harassment Talkingshop. And OD tried it on with me.

Mod Petaljam supported The OD male offender against the victim of his harassment Talkingshop when Petaljam agreed with his revisionist history account in August. I was an online witness to the unfolding events in June this year. I saved The OD's June post should a subsequent garda investigation ensue. It's hard because a poster might not appreciate your solidarity - you walk a tightrope.

However, Mr X's statement was a Red Alert on how he was driven to contemplate [edited] due to what he called a bullying campaign by Emily. I saved Mr X's two posts in html, I felt that I had a duty to ensure, as far as possible, the same didn't happen to TS. If you know the moderators are indifferent, who else can you turn to for assistance?

I was appalled that Moderator Petaljam backed The OD's revisionist history, and then Emily Davison - who I feel has shamed the suffragette's name she picked as her avatar - follows suit, but went further and called the female victim of male harassment a homophobe - whilst white washing the male harasser's abhorrent language... and saying what a fair minded fella he is.... It's absolute MIND F*CK. My posts defending TS were deleted.

It's not a fair website.

Some politics.ie mods think they are morally superior to politicalirish. What BS spin.

As for The OD's muteness around you on politics.ie's sister site, I think people fear you Mowl - they say 'the pen is mightier than the sword.'

And Val, I thought he had found kindred spirits here on politicalirish. He did say he had an affinity with native Americans, which is in his favour.
 
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