Showing posts with label Emerald isle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emerald isle. Show all posts

Thursday, April 9, 2026

Peasants Revolt!

 


Have you been following Ireland, Southern Ireland? It used to be a Catholic country until it was taken over by Globalists and their useful idiot rainbow followers. Net result? Huge tax increases to "save the environment" and a nifty immigration strategy which replaces the indigenous population with new votes.




Neat plan, but oh dear, the local working class don't support your trans revolution, so you just import millions of savages who do and remain in power forever. Until, that is, the imports form their own voting blocks and start throwing lesbian theater troupe players off the nearest hi-rise in Dublin. Or, of course, the locals revolt.



Lo and behold. Unsurprisingly, the locals have had enough of being replaced and appear to have risen up, with farmers and truckers blocking roads in and into Dublin itself, to say nothing of ports et al. Quelle horrible disaster. To that end, the Power in the Emerald Isle deputed a Canadian import policewoman to tell the protesters to back off or face the full "rigour" of the law. Remember the Canadian trucker's rally, anyone? But here's the thing.

Will the Gardai and what's pathetically left of the Irish Army actually beat up and if necessary shoot their brothers, sisters and fellow patriots? It seems their Canadian colleagues in crime were pretty much up to it. Ireland? I'd wager a different story, but that's just optimistic me.




Some say Ireland's the fuse to ignite Europe; fair play, it's not as though they haven't muscle memory when it comes to a fight. So there is that, but feel free to dive in and offer an opinion. As always, you the reader be the judge. But here's my take, for what little it's worth, I'd be dam hesitant to raise the Irish.

Yours,

LSP

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Ride & Shoot



One of the benefits of living in rural Texas is that you can marvel at the sheer greenness of the grass as you ride your horse through the Lone Star State's verdant water meadows. 




My philisophical pal, GWB, would say that Texas is locked into radical mimetic rivalry with the Emerald Isle. He's heavily influenced by some Frenchman called "Girard."




Then you get out in the open and pick up a gallop, wind in your face and Frenchmen forgotten as your horse's neck lengthens and she gets into her stride. Charge! No end of exhilaration.




Ride over, head off to the ranch's range and test out a rifle. Just you, the gun and the countryside in the setting sun. 




I like the muzzle flash as dusk closes in, not that I'm immature or anything. Come to think of it, tracers might be neat too...

God Bless Texas,

LSP