Sunday, 20 February 2011

Mark Riley Admits He Is A Racist.

Mark Riley performs the song 'You Say Bush, I Say Hitler!' live on stage at the Communist Bolshevik Society.

Part-time journalist impressionist, volunteer Turkish bathhouse towel assistant and Roger Whittaker fan Mark Riley, admitted today that he is “a racist.” In a frank admission during rehearsals for his one man act ‘I Was A Teenage Marxist Boob’, Riley stated that “I’m a racist because clearly for me everything is about race”.

Mark explained that “this is why leftoids, strangled and indoctrinated as they are with the Soviet Era Communist product of the 'Frankfurt School' of political correctness, relentlessly shout “racist!” at hell, anything and everything! It’s all we’ve got.

Basically we're idiots, two-bit race hustling identity politics peddling circus geeks, incapable of forming a single, authentic, honest, decent, original thought, and of ever mounting a coherent empirical argument based on evidential merit. Our absurd doomed non-ideas are invariably utter failures if you simply just wait long enough. In short, we’re eternally juvenile shits. We're useless, we're laughable, yet amazingly often employed and tenured for life and thus expensive, destructive and dangerous. We're laughably clueless and wrong about everything, especially individual human nature, how to create wealth, what is freedom and history and its lessons etc. Sickening, eh? But what can ya do?

Thus we make a hell of a lot of noise because we're actually unwanted and not needed in any practical sense. Ever heard anyone sane say "gee, what this place needs is more freaking commie activists!?" or "hey, let's liven things up and invite lotsa stupid lefty journalist's like Mark Riley!" Never happens.”

Expanding on his recent epiphany, Riley went on and on adding that “I think P.J O’Rourke said it best when he wrote that leftist socialist Green Democrat and Labour creeps et al “hate anyone who has any guts”. We’re sickening really. It’s the fashionable hypocritical fraud of our screeching that is most repellent. This is why I felt I just had to cleanse myself today with this ironically Godless left mass media clod confession."

Riley added that he had a virtual Pavlovian ability to simply react to words, much like the dog in Pavlov’s famous experiments. In this remarkable admission Riley said that "when I hear a word or a sentence containing a complex series of facts or even a simple harsh reality, I invariably think of a logical fallacy. A babbling blizzard of witless ad hominem's first, then legions of strawmen, false arguments, false dichotomy’s and circular argument’s ad nauseum; that’s our stock method. As a media cripple, when I'm not lying, I’m really quite irrational. We all are. Is that a zebra?”

Riley said that he had once sought treatment for as he called it, his “inept paranoia and laughably unread fraud” but that his own “natural incompetence got the better” of him.

“I’ve always been a phony, a twerp if you will” he said. “But then much of the mainstream media is fake. Generally, the average media ass hat is a not too bright leftard. Narcissism and moral vanity is our main thing. Of course we’re big consumers of drugs, prostitutes, gambling, general vice and rather ironically, enormous consumers of un-researched MSM junk ourselves which is where we get most of our own utterly biased twit tripe and largely worthless dull material from. It’s quite the recycling loop,” Riley explained.

For all his self-confessed inner-turmoil, Riley ended on a somewhat positive note with some hope for the future, though tinged with regret for a largely wasted life. "While most leftards are self-loathing and curiously projecting types, we're basically suicidal. We have a kind of insane, hideous, repellent death wish, but without the laughs. Even I hate me as we all do, naturally. Sadly, we aim to drag everyone down with us if we can."

Mark Riley is appearing Monday night at the Communist Bolshevik Society in the Hitler Lounge, performing in ‘I Was A Teenage Marxist Boob: the Phillip Adams Story’, for half a performance only.


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