I’ve been getting a lot of criticism from the Friends of Freemont about not attending the God Hates Fags rally that occurred in Boston last weekend. Despite apologizing on this blog for a camera battery issue (which has since been rectified) some people seem to think that I should have made the trip to the rally cameraless with a pen and paper. So, let me just address these so-called Friends of Free, who are really friends in name only and are actually just gutless cowards who stand on the sidelines of my revolution, hoping that they might grab onto my ball hair when this thing takes off.
While the God Hates Fags people are a hilarious lot that would have provided easy content for this blog, I am not that interested in their storyline. It’s been done before—from the Howard Stern show to the very talented Roger Nicholson of the Cambridge Rag whose work I posted below. Sure, I would have provided you all with a cheap laugh. And I am certainly not above doing that. But, if you’ve read this fucking blog lately (which many of my so-called friends have not) you would know that I am after a far greater prize. The Gods Hates Fags people are a dying bunch of bigots who grow weaker and weaker within the United States and carry absolutely no political influence what so ever.
The underlying theme of this blog, beneath the vulgarity and genius of it all, is the battle between the classes. In the year 2010, we have been made to be nothing more than lab rats that toil and fight with one another so that we won’t join together to escape our imprisonment. My vision for the revolution does not hinge on the idea of exposing the blatant bigotries that still exist in this world. My revolution hinges on the concept that the real bigotry that exists today has become instutionalized within the system. This form of bigotry is the natural result of corrupt bureaucracies whose goal is to control our lives in order to exponentially improve their social standings with each generation. And until we are able to recognize these institutional forms of bigotry and repression (which are our real enemies), we will be unable to begin my revolution and will only be pigs rolling around in the brief success of our own shit.
In other words, I am not looking for my twenty minutes of fame here. I am not hoping for my next YouTube posting to go viral. What I’m looking to do is start a fucking social revolution. And I will do that on my own fucking terms because I seem to be the only prick willing to do it. I will spread the fucking legs of the revolution and I will kiss it on its lips. And if any of you assholes are willing to join me when the moment is upon us, you shall be thusly rewarded. But, if you’re going to sit back on your Craigslist-bought sofa with your processed American cheese in the freezer and say that I missed a fucking bombshell interview with the God fucking Hates Fags people, then perhaps you should hand in your Friends of Freemont card. Because you can walk in all the Gay Pride parades you want to, but, if you don’t understand the root of the problems that confront us, you might as well be baking a cake for you new yuppie neighbors. Symbolic victories will not advance the revolution and this ride is not made for want-to-be pussies. It’s for those who want to change the future. Lest you forget who the fuck is in charge here.
A Royal Notice from the King Himself
Sir Robert Freemont Barrington, III
