Erin Go Fuck Yourself

Anybody besides me notice how many of the most nasty, submissive, degraded, bootlicking Republicans are Irish Catholics? Let’s tease this out. Massive, societal humiliations persist for generations. Irish Catholic men left their balls strewing the fields of their native land. They were prone to squabbling among themselves and the English turned them into pathetic, potato munching shells of men, prisoners of both their invaders and their women.

Call it matriarchal or not, Ireland’s women glued the place together, the men leaving a vacuum, wandering the Isle trying to find their nuts again. They brought this tradition to America, many escaping from the loop of resentment, submission and vengeful behavior. But, the lowest of them, by descent, men like Hannity, O’Reilly and Mulvaney, still try to compensate for feelings of inadequacy by bullying and demeaning others.

Catholicism made them all too comfortable with submission. They love authority—the more arbitrary the better. Paradox always held Catholics in thrall, and seeming contradictions can be hard to tell from real ones, the ability to believe a bunch of nonsense and bow and scrape being indicators of faith. Also, competition fueled the Irish in their initial hold on respect among the masses of Americans. Think of football at Notre Dame.

Win at all costs, became the point. They were their own hard act to follow, as blacks and others began to kick their asses, fair and square. So, you begin to cheat. Winning becomes everything. Remember Gerry Faust losing his mind on the sidelines after he was elevated from a high school to his dream job, a new Knute? There is that strain among Irish men, their need to win above everything, because they know how sorry they really are.

Fuck them all, the malevolent scum. This is THEIR Faust story.

They sold their souls for ephemeral victories. Witness their degradation. In my next episode I will feature the feminine side of this equation, Kellyanne Conway, and what it’s like to spend your life massaging the gonads of these tragic losers in a futile effort to have them, existentially, “get it up” and feel worthy and significant. We see in Trump how impossible it is to displace those feelings of insecurity. Trump is in the role of the child.

Kellyanne is a mother snarling protectively and pouring energy into her weakest, arrested, incidentally un-Irish offspring—in this instance a primal archetype of incompetence and shameful, boorish behavior. Oedipal overtones are everywhere, the government representing the mother conservatives scorn but are doomed to marry, conflating the roles of husband and son, wailing away at the thought of being weaned.

Massage away, maiden. An escape from adolescence in one’s seventies is a dicey proposition.