Free Speech for the right kind of speech.

Old Holborn has often touched on the very edge of offensive and sometimes kicked the edge to bits and stomped the bits into the ground. I have not always agreed with him but I am in favour of free speech so while he has said things I sometimes very strongly disagree with, I would never even consider telling him to shut up. How would I know what  I don’t agree with if I never heard about it?

Sometimes people can be wrong. I speak from experience – I was nearly wrong once. Listening to a view you don’t currently agree with might sometimes make you think ‘Hang on, maybe my view is not perfect.’ If all other views are stifled then you have no frame of reference for the views you hold. The comical fantasy views indoctrinated into you in school will stay with you forever. That is all you will ever know. The thinking people will ridicule you, and you will never understand why.

Free speech can be offensive. It doesn’t have to be, then again sometimes it does have to be. Sometimes the things that need to be said will make the feeble cry. Sometimes you have to tell a friend that they are stinking because no matter how often they wash, their entire house stinks so bad it soaks into their clothes and follows them round like sewage-bomb fallout. Clean your damn house. Or pay me to do it. Sometimes you have to tell a fat friend that the reason their diets fail is that they eat too much. “Yes, you eat all the right diet food, but you also eat fifteen Mars bars and six bags of chips a day as well. It doesn’t work that way.” Sometimes, as another forgotten old saying goes, you have to be cruel to be kind.

Sometimes you have to be cruel just because it’s too funny to resist. OH does that. It’s the same vicious humour that makes Frankie the Boil and other Leftie twats wads of money but gets non-Lefties like OH death threats.

If I had been Frankie Boyle’s dad, I’d have called him Lance. He’d still have had red hair and glasses too. What a lousy school experience he’d have had. Lucky escape there, Frankie. I hate children and you would have been one when you were named.

I admit to being cruel because it’s funny but rarely online. I prefer face to face cruelty. You can’t savour all the little emotions, as the Joker said, when using a long range weapon. You can’t see the subtle and gradual change in expression from superior being to terrified drone. I could not be an internet troll. It’s too impersonal. I am a real life troll. Ten times worse when drunk because then everything is funny.

The Daily Change of Mind once hailed Old Holborn as part of the Anna Raccoon drive to raise the money to get a smoky bar owner out of jail. That was about a year ago. Now they have decided to ‘out’ him as a troll because of some things he said on Twitter. I have never Twitted so have no idea what he actually said but as a long time reader of his blog, I can guess that it was, shall we say, intemperate.

Those shouting ‘I say, that was a bit intemperate, don’t cha know, fellow?’ (I don’t know Liverpudlian but I guess it translates into ‘Orrite, orrite, calm down, calm down, they do dough dey don’t dey dough down in Dat London’ because most things do) were met with typical Old Holborn intransigence. If he had seen no reaction he would have moved on. He knew he would get a reaction. He was right. And once a bulldog has his teeth in, it’s a hell of a job to get them out.

It went a lot further than what happened to the dim Norwich troll who went for the smoky blogs almost two years back. We found him but issued no threats. We did not threaten him or his family. The Liverpool lot did threaten Old Holborn, his wife and daughters, his employers… the Daily Screech said the police were involved but failed to mention that it wasn’t OH they were looking into.

Free speech or not free speech, that is the question. Whether it be nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous sentences or by shouting ‘Racist-Nazi-Bigot’, silence them.

The latter has been the course of the lefties and all their sad little drones. Being upset is at least as bad as murder now, you’ll probably get a longer sentence for making someone uncomfortable than you will for sticking an axe in their head. What a weak and useless people we have become. If Darwin’s survival of the fittest is true, we are fucked.

Perhaps it’s for the best.