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My Trois Britaniques





In this cra-cra world where insanity reigns, I look to three special and brave men who not only reassure me that I'm not alone, but make me laugh.

I'm talking about the Trois Britaniques!




Pat Condell is a staple in my life. For years. Hell, I even dedicated a few blog pages to him. Brilliant, scathing, fearless and direct, this man has pointed out the obvious to me, but evidently not to others. His frustration is palpable and just one step below critical mass. Can you blame him?








Milo Yiannopoulos has been a relatively newish staple for me. Young, brash, intelligent, humorous and flamboyant, he's a breath of fresh air when it comes to anti-liberal sentiments. I felt so bad for him when he was thrown into the tv ring with seasoned old white liberal men. They toyed with him like my newly deceased cat, Pookie, who tortured his prey before plunging his fangs into their bellies, following that up with a joyous biting off their heads. Still, Milo's a survivor and has sprung up again, stronger than before. Viva Milo!




Paul Joseph Watson is a heartthrob. He's the only one I know who makes the word, "cretin" sound juicy. He's lethal, smart as hell, funny as hell and tells it the way it is. Although lately I detect that he's a step below critical mass explosion due to his frustration. I marvel that he's so young, yet so worldly. I can't help, but compare myself at that age and cringe at my stupidity.

I admire these three extraordinary men who express themselves with flair in face of global opposition. However, it's like casting pearls before swine. Rarely anything can change someone's mind unless it's a life changer and even then...

Yet, one question perplexes me: why is it that these Englishmen are so thoroughly fluent in American politics whereas we're ignorant of theirs?

Perhaps it has something to do with their accents. 


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