Garry Potter And The Same Old Nonsense by David Backhim (ready player one ebook txt) 📕

Sandy Row White Trash Sons of Ulster
The Harryville Broad-Minded Sons of William
The Village People Band, South Belfast
The Rathcoole Teenage Thugs Loyalist Band
The East Belfast Uneducated Low-Life Flute Band
The Loyalist Terrorists’ Fan Club Flute Band
The Seymour Hill Foul-Mouthed Pride Of Ulster
The Macho Kick The Pope Flute Band, Larne
The Dundonald Dole-Scroungers Flute Band
The Coleraine Pride Of The Gutter Flute Band
The Ulster Refuse Collectors Flute Band
All Loyalist bands welcome. God Save The Queen……………………. (the fascist regime)

POOF PRIDE
I am considering the possibility of participating in next year’s gay pride parade. As a Northern Irishman, from a Protestant background, I do after all have a proven track record in parades. Besides, as I am ashamed to be a heterosexual, that ought to grant me an affinity with people who are proud to be homosexual. It’s hard not to be repulsed by heterosexuality when it seems that most men view young women as potential conquests and most young women apparently want to be with such men.
Nevertheless, why do gays have to flaunt their sense of self-pride? Clearly, it’s because after decades and even centuries of repressed feelings resulting from the ostracism and even persecution of homosexuality, gays and lesbians wish to celebrate their sexuality for all to see. I can only assume that in future years, traffic wardens will be holding a pride parade to signify their freedom from the understandable contempt that we all express towards these ‘jobsworths’. Why, even a pride parade for the employees of the Inland Revenue probably cannot be ruled out either.
There is however a suggestion in the word ‘pride’ that homosexuals want to boast of their sexuality, as if it is an enviable and much sought-after status symbol. A fine dividing line after all separates pride and boastfulness. I can only surmise that homosexuality is a quality that mere mortals like myself should strive to attain. I can now start to imagine a job interview where the applicant is asked to detail his achievements, and while his sporting prowess and various acts of heroism don’t register with the interview panel, his admission of being in a same sex relationship arouses the admiration of the interviewers. I now anticipate job application rejection letters in the post where I am informed that I wasn’t sufficiently homosexual to meet the exalted criteria.
Christians in particular are faced with an enormous moral dilemma over the issue of homosexuality. By refusing to tolerate same sex relationships, followers of Christ are labelled as bigots, but surely if the word of God decrees that homosexuality is unacceptable to our Creator, then who are we as His creation to defy His wishes. For a Christian to tolerate the unacceptable, is akin to someone tolerating drink drivers. I know that gay people will not enjoy this comparison, but it is important for them to understand that Christians and Muslims too regard homosexuality as wrong. How in the last analysis can they be expected to accept anything that they regard as wrong.
Meanwhile, one could argue that as William of Orange was almost certainly a homosexual, and the Orange Order are proud of him, there is a logic in arguing that Orange parades are further demonstrations of gay pride. Oh I do so envy these people who are so proud of their sexuality that they feel the need to parade it in front of everyone. Ultimately, I’m not gay…..just sad.

WALL OF SHAME
In Norn Iron, there are calls for a memorial to commemorate the terrorist dead and for a monument to celebrate peace. What is it with politicians and monuments? When it comes to a plaque, slab, tower, or wall officially opened by self-important public officials, self-seeking politicians would miss their daughter’s graduation to attend such an ego ceremony. Call me old-fashioned, but would funds for a peace memorial not be better diverted to healthcare instead of a bricks and mortar piece of Lego, designed to remind one and all of the greatness of various ‘statesmen’? As if this is not ludicrous enough, Irish republicans (and loyalists) are desiring a monument that fondly remembers their dead. I suggest a wall be erected, more for urinating against than wailing at, for such a purpose. After all, Belfast is renowned for its ironically-titled ‘peace walls’ while there is a tradition of urinating against walls that runs in parallel with the ‘marching season’. The inscription on the wall of shame should read as follows:
This memorial commemorates all those brave men and women who shot policemen and soldiers in the back, and then ran away hiding, as well as all those volunteers who planted bombs in hotels, bars, and shopping centres, with no regard for the safety of women and children. Also on this monument are listed the names of those courageous freedom fighters who fought to take away other people’s freedom of existence by killing unarmed Roman Catholics. This mural is a tribute to all those working-class heroes who created orphans, took husbands from their wives, wives from their husbands, and left grieving parents and children to pick up the pieces.

FOOTBALL IDOLS
I frequently hear how impressive it is to see the Anfield contingent as well as the copycats of Celtic Park with their scarves held aloft in unison, as they sing ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’. I find this whole scene, and similar slightly less passionate displays at other sporting arenas quite disturbing. There is quite clearly a religious fervour about the support that is offered by football followers to their respective clubs, while you won’t find any such demonstration of passion amongst the few football fans who go to God’s house to worship Him. It is all so reminiscent of the idolaters of the Old Testament. Excuse me for preaching, but could someone kindly remind football supporters that the Creator tolerates no rivals, yet it is abundantly obvious that many men (and women too) place their faith and trust ludicrously in flawed, inconsistent young men, barely out of school. It is quite clear where a lot of people’s worshipping priorities lie. It is frightening to think that God who created the whole world and everyone in it and then sent his Son to save all us sinners is less worthy of attention and praise than a young guy who sticks a ball in the net once every three or four matches. To add insult to injury, some of these young idols live an existence of questionable morals off the football pitch. Recurring stories of rape allegations and wild nights out do nothing to convince this writer that football ‘stars’ are worth worshipping for a second.
I also read with interest recently in a Sunday viewspaper about Harry Redknapp’s fury at the abuse he had been subjected to in a match against Aston Villa, whilst recounting a bad experience at Chelsea too. Redknapp was appalled that grown men were hurling obscenities at him in front of their children. Similarly, in the week-end after England’s Wembley debacle against Croatia, the Chelsea English contingent and Steven Gerrard were on the receiving end of verbal abuse. Commenting on Radio Five Live, Alan Green and Graham Taylor were equally horrified that adults were setting a terrible example to their youngsters with their shocking language and vitriol. Harry Redknapp suggested that football (or at least its supporters) was becoming ‘sick’. Quite frankly, if this is what constitutes being passionate about your club, then count me out! Some people, I believe, need to step back and come to their collective senses.

THE END OF A LOVE STORY
Get your tissues out folks, because this does not have a happy ending. Pathetic, sad, contemptible creature that I am, I have been ‘married’ to Chelsea Football Club for the best (or worst) part of twenty-two years. However, this battered housewife is belatedly filing for divorce on the grounds of the irretrievable breakdown in marriage relations. After years of abuse, as well as occasional good times, a painful experience on Tuesday May 1st 2007 has been the final straw.
On that evening of torment, Chelsea proceeded to lose their fourth semi-final in four successive years, their third consecutive Champions League semi-final knockout, and their third consecutive semi-final reverse to Liverpool. There is now an inevitability about Chelsea Champions League semi-final exits, reminiscent of Leeds United’s reputation as bridesmaids in the late sixties and early seventies when Don Revie’s outfit won less silverware than seemed frequently likely. Mind you, comparisons with that Leeds team and Jose Mourinho’s Chelsea hardly end there. Both teams have been short of admirers, at least amongst the Arsenal and Liverpool media luvvies, borne out of their uncompromising brand of no-nonsense football. However, the trouble with Chelsea in the Abramovich era is that the manager has had a ‘dare not lose’ mentality which on Anfield’s hallowed turf on the night in question produced a dreadful display in which the desire to avoid defeat stifled any attempt to win. The Blues failed time and again to stretch their hosts, resorting without exception to hoofing long balls to Drogba. There was no creativity, flair, or imagination, and if there was a Plan B, namely the introduction of Shaun Wright-Phillips, it was allocated a mere ten minutes to pull a rabbit out of the hat.
Of course Liverpool’s defence and goal-keeper excelled themselves, but failing to score once in three hours of football back in 2005, followed by a repeat performance in 2007 was simply too much to bear. Mourinho’s Chelsea were not attack-minded enough and yes I am belatedly waking up to the fact that Chelsea are boring. Mourinho fluffed his lines. Shevchenko’s goal return of four in his first Premiership season is a monumental embarrassment, but more significantly, while the manager had only two recognised central defenders in Carvalho and Terry, he had no fewer than four players for the lone holding role position. ‘Maureen’ was so possessed it seems with the need for defensive midfielders that any attacking impetus was clearly undermined. The greatest indictment was that while ‘the Special One’ refused to entertain Boulahrouz as a centre half, he played Michael Essien ( arguably his best player) out of position for a large proportion of the season. This re-shuffle was so outrageous that it was the equivalent of Ronaldinho playing centre-half for Barcelona, Gerrard playing in goal for Liverpool, or Ronaldo playing at right-back for Manchester United.
Chelsea and their manager have crossed the line as far as I am concerned. They have been boring and pragmatic, with a tendency to fluff their lines and shoot themselves in the foot in semi-finals. I am not a bad loser, I can assure you, although