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Smollet All Over

Yeah, the big idiot Justin Smollett lied, and lied and lied, and lied some more, and he's now been taken in by the police where he posted bond and he's awaiting a trial.

Idiots like him don't give up on their lie, not easily. Him and that other guy, Anthony Weiner, both of them kept insisting, kept thinking to themselves "No, I can brazen this out. I'm sticking to my story. They're gonna believe me, I know it, I'll come out on top."

But yeah, this has pissed me off to no end, how the media has handled it, how Democrats have handled it, how celebrities have handled it. They were willing to accept this absurd, childish story because it advanced their stupid narrative that white people (the bad white people, mind you) are just brimming over with racial (and homophobic) hatred.

Now it looks like they're going to blame it on the drugs. From what I hear, Mr. Smollett may have had a problem with ecstasy pills, a form of methamphetamine. Sure, let's forgive this blood libel against white people, the poor millionaire has a drug problem! Let's focus on the "larger picture!"

Anyway in this week's page, I like how the scissors are so important. This detail seems dream-like to me, that this mundane item is presented with such gravity to the third daughter.

Thanks for visiting! Have a good weekend!

Comic transcript

You're reading a page from a comic book based on the ancient Irish Myth the Three daughters of King Coluath O'hara. The translation and story was from Jeremiah Curtin's book Irish Myths and Fairy Tales but don't go and spoil the comic by reading it. I'll be posting a page a week, and the first page is here. Please let me know in the comments if you want to buy a copy and end the suspense, and if enough people want it then hey I'll publish it. Thanks!

The third daughter of the King Coluath O'Hara was not long in the house when a little boy came to her knee and called her "Mother".

The woman of the house told the child to go back to his place, and not to come out again. She said to the third daughter, "Here are a pair of scissors, and they will serve you well. Whatever ragged people you see, if you cut a piece off their rags, that moment they will have new clothes of cloth of gold."

She stayed that night, for she had good welcome. Next morning, when she went out, the man who used to be a white dog during the day said to her, "You'd better go home now to your father."

She replied "I'll not go to my father if I have to leave you."

So he went on and she followed. It was that way all the day till night came. And at nightfall they saw another house at the foot of a hill. Note: the etymology of "hill", I seem to remember that the very very old root of this word meant "burial mound" or something like that. I could be mistaken. Anyway.

The husband said "You go in. I'll stop outside till morning."

She went in the house, and the woman of the house gave her a good welcome. After she had eaten and drunk, a little boy came out of another room, ran to her knee, and said "Mother."

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