Tough Crowd: How I Made and Lost a Career in Comedy
/by Graham Linehan, Eye Books, Published
October 2023, 288 pages
He that is not with me, is against me: and he that gathereth not with me, scattereth
– Matthew 12: 30
Graham Linehan thinks that he’s on the right side of history. I dearly wish that it were so. It’s a claim repeated several times throughout this absolutely absorbing memoir. I’d already acquired a considerable internet-inspired admiration for the man, thanks to his pushback against the worst excesses of gender ideology, but the prologue to Tough Crowd had me wanting the 6’ 3” awkward looking lop-faced Irishman as a younger brother. Recognising Linehan as the bloke who wrote the sit-com Father Ted, I had my suspicions of course, but it gave me no pleasure whatsoever to discover that such a brilliant and heroic 50-something Paddy, is after all, like so many of our apostate generation, on the wrong side of history. He’s on my prayer list. Linehan, the Dubliner who co-created one of the UK’s most acclaimed sit-coms – the aforementioned Father Ted – could hardly have guessed that he’d end up even more celebrated as the man who fought the good fight on gender ideology, taking so much flak and losing so many friends that the subsequent attacks on JK Rowling – with apologies to the Ven. Fulton Sheen – look like being stoned to death with popcorn. Glinner is just happy to be alive – losing a wife, a career, and a testicle in the space of three years is no joke. Unless, of course, you’re Graham Linehan, as here evidenced in the prologue to Tough Crowd, itself published two years after the divorce:
One day, I looked at my sunken eyes in the mirror and realised I was becoming one of those depressing BBC docudramas about comedians catching cancer or falling off the wagon or whatever. The big difference with my story was that over the last five years, cancer of the testicles had been the most positive thing that had happened to me.[1]
His social-media martyrdom on behalf of trans-exploited boys and girls and on behalf of all women – don’t drug and mutilate the children, and keep men out of women’s toilets, locker-rooms and prisons – sees Linehan now rightly acclaimed as both comic genius and bona fide culture warrior. What’s not to like? Well, as he makes clear in this, his first book, he still thinks that there is such a thing as a safe abortion, he thinks that Ireland is better now that abortion is legal, and he still thinks that it’s wrong to call abortion a sin, though he rejects the very notion of sin. And he still thinks that two men can get married. He’s proud of the fact that he persuaded his hitherto reluctant father to vote “Yes” in Ireland’s 2015 gay “marriage” referendum.[2] All of which leaves Linehan, Jr. inhabiting that ever-more populous online enclave, namely the Land of the Reasonable Revolutionaries: “No” to mutilating our teenagers with transgender surgery, “Yes” to dismembering our babies with abortion surgery; “No” to puberty-blocking drugs which destroy our teenagers’ lives, “Yes” to mifepristone and misoprostol; “No” to men pretending to be women, “Yes” to sodomy. Glinner for president! All of which, needless to say, leaves Graham Linehan on the wrong side of history. But there’s no question that Glinner is on the right side of the wrong side. He’s easily the best cop in that benighted neighbourhood on the wrong side of the tracks. He’s like a man trying desperately to prise the lunatics’ hands off the steering wheel, without realising that going over a cliff is merely the most immediate danger you face if you’re already heading south on the highway to Hell. I hope Graham Linehan does a U-turn before it’s too late. If he’s not careful, he could spend eternity as one of Hell’s most righteous reprobates. Satan, I’m told, really appreciates pushback on transgender lunacy, so long as you bring the abortion and the sodomy. Good luck with that one, Glinner.
Not surprisingly, his newly restored and ever-increasing fan club is certain that he’s on the right side of history. It’s hard to blame his fans – the man is so admirable in so many ways, and he’s so right about so many things. He has endured one of the vilest, most vicious, and stupidest persecutions of the Internet age – “I lost my career to a mass delusion” – and has come out fighting and smiling, and writing and blogging to beat the band. Neo-con comedy men like Linehan are fast becoming the toast of the town. He’s even making a name for himself as a stand-up comedian, something he tried but never quite mastered as a younger man. Referring to his nascent comedy career in late 1980’s Ireland, working with a U2 spoof band/comedy outfit, the Joshua Trio, we learn that:
I even gave stand-up comedy a go, but I was no prodigy, and felt much more comfortable handing the jokes over to someone else. I may have intuited early on that stand-up is not a job for sensitive types with a lot of stored-up anger from being bullied at school.[3]
Having at the same time made something of a name for himself in Dublin as a music reviewer and film critic for the highly regarded Hot Press, Linehan moved to London where he built a comedy career handing the jokes over to the hottest comedy acts and production companies of the day. In partnership with fellow Hot Press journo and Joshua Trio member, Arthur Mathews [sic] – the latter’s brilliant Amish Sex Pistols[4] is a perfect window on their whole approach – they created four of the most acclaimed sit-coms and contributed to all of the best sketch shows of UK comedy’s “golden age” – the mid 1990’s into the early noughties. Their greatest claim to fame is the creation of Father Ted (Catholic priests get the Blazing Saddles treatment) the innocently foul-mouthed, not-too-frequently scatological, endlessly quotable, affectionately blasphemous portrait of three misfit Irish priests and their tea-pushing housekeeper. Subsequent sit-com hits followed – Black Books, The IT Crowd, Count Arthur Strong – establishing the pair as members of the UK’s comedy hall of fame: “Almost every comedy worth viewing has either been written or co-written by Graham Linehan.”[5] Rod Liddle’s lavish praise was part of his gushing introduction to Linehan whom he interviewed for the Social Democratic Party, following the publication of Tough Crowd, but as a sweeping summary it’s hard to fault. And best of all, they wrote material for my favourite-bar-none sketch show, Big Train: A distressed car-broken-down young English lady in France asks a passer-by, “Excuse me, do you speak English?”[6] With an exquisitely ordinary London accent he replies, “No, I don’t. Sorry!” After explaining her predicament and asking if he knows where she might find a garage, he again replies, “Um, sorry, that’s wasted on me – I don’t understand what you’re saying.” After further to-ing and fro-ing – and engaging the help of another English-speaking, London-sounding, yet resolutely uncomprehending passer-by – he sends the young lady on her way:
Tell you what. If you go down that way, about half a mile, there’s a village. Erm, there might be somebody there that speaks English.[7]
Go on, Glinner! How many conversations now end with one party thinking, “Erm, there might be someone there that speaks English”? I don’t think even a man as brilliant as Graham Linehan could’ve realised that this one-and-a-half-minute trifle from the year 2000 was no less than a vision of the new-millennium nightmare from which the English-speaking world is trying to awake: Do you speak English? Um, sorry, that’s wasted on me. I don’t understand what you’re saying.
A cast-iron case for Graham Linehan being on the right side of history can be made as follows: If history begins in the month of his birth – May 1968 – and if history is written by those who still think that the sexual revolution was about freedom, that pre-1968 Ireland was darkest pre-history, and that Humanae Vitae was the first and greatest and most enduring heresy, Graham Linehan not only ends up on the right side of history but can rightly be regarded as one of our great saints. With more scars than you can shake a stick at, he may even be the Messiah. At the very least he’s a kind of post-Church Apostle to the Apostates. Before totally collapsing this already groaning analogy, let us be seated for the first reading, a Reading from the Letter of St. Graham to the Hibernians:
A ghost haunts Ireland, a cruel ghost of the last century, still bound to the land. It blindly brings suffering — even death — to the women whose lives it touches. Feared by politicians, this is a ghost of paper and ink, a spirit that lives in our constitution, written for a different time. It’s the shadow of a country we thought we’d left behind. Ireland doesn’t have to be chained to its past [pregnant pause]. It’s time to lay this ghost… [extended pregnant pause]…to rest.[8]
Though, mercifully, these sacred lines with that heart-rending split infinitive don’t appear in Tough Crowd – so you can and should buy the book – they bear solemn testimony to Linehan’s appointment as patron saint of unchained Ireland. Readers may well recognise the above, the most ludicrous and nauseating piece of pro-abortion propaganda ever written, as the Amnesty International advert that was broadcast in the run-up to the 2018 abortion referendum, which asked the people of Ireland if they wanted to banish that “ghost of paper and ink” – the 8th Amendment to the Constitution, which recognised the equal right to life of the child in the womb – from the Land of Saints and Scholars. Another – and even taller – Irish celebrity, the actor Liam Neeson, voiced the thing, but it was only on reading Tough Crowd that I learned that it was written by Graham Linehan. Maybe it goes to show that if you start off taking the mickey out of Catholic priests, you end up enabling the mass murder of Catholic children – we’re nearly up to seven thousand as I write. Thanks Glinner! The only evidence in Tough Crowd of Linehan backtracking on his authorship of the ad, is his apparent embarrassment at its aesthetic shortcomings:
I wrote a piece in the Irish Times saying it was time for the country to grow up on the [abortion] issue, and authored a terrible, doomy advert that had the distinction of being voiced by Liam Neeson.[9]
Now that the history question has been answered without so much as a spoiler alert, and now that Graham Linehan’s particular judgement has been pre-announced, let me urge you to read the book anyway. Tough Crowd is that rare thing, a memoir that will bear repeated readings. Yes, Linehan is just a really good writer, and yes, the book is a captivating blend of social and cultural history that doubles as a series of genuinely expert tutorials: how to write a joke; the golden rules of making a sit-com; casting for sit-coms; how to write a musical; how to keep a writing partnership together. Yes, it’s a thoroughly enjoyable and informative brief history of the transition from the pre-internet days of “bookshops” and “record shops” – the pre-internet “internet” as it existed in “meatspace”[10] – to the world of Facebook, Instagram and X. Yes, about two thirds of the way through there’s a 10-page “Interlude” – essentially a crash course on the subject of “trans” – which Linehan provides to enable the reader to better engage with the rest of the book, which tells the story of his campaigning and his cancellation. The substance of the “Interlude” is an analysis of the term “trans” – “I certainly have never heard the same definition twice”[11] – which exposes the “do-you-speak-English” weaponisation of the term, and the demonisation of someone like Linehan who simply points out that a rapist who puts on lipstick shouldn’t be allowed in a women’s prison now that he claims to be “trans.” This is quality stuff written by a man whom few could surpass in terms of intelligence, belligerence and hands-on experience. And yes, Tough Crowd is a condensed version of the Gulag Archipelago for the internet age, with Linehan in the role of Alexander Solzhenitsyn, recounting the sheer evil and insanity of a system that feeds on newspeak, venom, cowardice, paranoia, betrayal, frame-ups, denouncements, show trials, sadistic punishment, banishment, and virtual execution, all in the name of an insane ideology. Over and above these undeniably fascinating treats, the main reason I was drawn back repeatedly to the book was to see if it would finally cough up the answer to the 64,000 dollar question, a question that can be formulated in a hundred different ways: Does Graham Linehan really think that abortion and sodomy are OK? Really? How can such an intelligent, courageous comic genius be that stupid? Can this father of three – one dead by abortion – really be so blind to his abortion-good/ trans-bad double standard? Is Graham Linehan really that champion of women that he claims to be? Shorter, more direct forms of the question include: What’s eating Graham Linehan? What happened to Graham Linehan? Or, perhaps most to the point, What the heck happened to the Irish? Answer – The Jews. In a nutshell, we, the Irish of Graham Linehan’s generation, to our eternal shame and ongoing ruin, replaced formation by the Catholic Church with formation by the Jews. Graham Linehan is a textbook case of the process. And, with Tough Crowd, he has written the textbook. We Irish are helpful like that.
Though he doesn’t give the exact date, we discover that quite early on the young Linehan – with the unhelpful assistance of a naturist magazine and some decidedly off-putting German S&M porn – became the unwitting disciple of Wilhem Reich. Linehan explains:
Masturbation was bait, resting on Satan’s mousetrap. If I didn’t stop doing it, I was going to become a bad person, write evil things, make a lot of money, and end up in hell. What kind of demonic freak was I, that I could enjoy thoughts of SEX? Every time I fell to the temptation of treating my genitals as if I was trying to get a tune out of them, I’d spend a good half hour apologising to Our Lord afterwards.[12]
Leaving aside that somewhat mystifying musical rendering of masturbation, this is pretty standard Irish revisionism: being warned by parents and priests that fornication and masturbation are wrong, is refashioned as some kind of deranged celibacy-driven aversion to sex – sorry, SEX – as if all those big Irish families weren’t proof positive that Ireland was one of the great actively heterosexual nations. More to the point, readers familiar with the work of E. Michael Jones will recognise that the young Linehan’s postcoital contrition reveals that he had yet to succumb fully to the Reichian strategy, the ultimate effect of which is to eliminate completely the impulse to pray, as Jones explains:
Reich noticed a simple fact. If you changed the behaviour of idealistic young Catholics in the direction of sexual liberation, including especially masturbation, then the idea of God simply evaporated from their minds and they defected from the Church and the way to successful revolution was clear.[13]
No end of alternative titles for Tough Crowd suddenly started to emerge: “Tough Love: How I Single-handedly Survived Catholicism, Comedy and Cancellation”; “Graham Linehan – What I Achieved with One Hand, One Typewriter, and One Testicle”; “Glinner’s Guide to Bashing the Bishop.” The tussle for the Linehan soul between the Catholics and the Jews takes a further comic turn as we learn of Linehan’s father’s decidedly unconvincing attempt to condense that talk to his son about the birds and the bees, into a brief reference to James Bond, and the admonition, “Don’t be like him.”[14] The arrival shortly thereafter in the Linehan home of the World Book Encyclopaedia was the final nail in the coffin of Linehan’s Catholic identity. Such is the evangelical fervour of the young Glinner’s epiphany, it’s worth quoting at some length:
One day, trembling with Catholic terror and tormented by persistent thoughts of becoming a glamour photographer, inspiration struck me and I looked up ‘masturbation’ in the World Book Parents Guide, which accompanied the set. The entry read ‘Masturbation: Perfectly normal. Nothing to worry about,’ and in that instant I stopped believing in God.[15]
Wilhelm Reich may have ended up as a certified lunatic but he was no fool. As Reich predicted, the end of belief in God is just the beginning. Linehan continues with all the fervour of the newly-baptised revolutionary, blissfully unaware that he sounds like Case Study No. 1 from the Wilhelm Reich archive:
I had bitten the apple, and realised I was ‘completely normal’ and ‘nothing to worry about’. Along with the relief came resentment at everything religious faith had put me through. I felt as if I had been the victim of a hoax that was centuries in the making. There was no point, it seemed to me, in waiting for a reward that might never come. What a confidence trick to spend your life on your knees for non-sexual reasons, perhaps never realising that it was the only life you had! Impossible, absurd, I wasn’t going to stand for it. I met the Devil on the crossroads and he gave me a typewriter (Dad in his innocence, grabbed it from work for my birthday). I used it to start writing short stories. I was going to become a bad person, write evil things, make a lot of money and maybe end up in hell, but definitely continue masturbating.[16]
Meet Graham Linehan, self-confessed degenerate modern. As a quick aside, two oft-repeated axioms that were part of the discourse on sexual liberation at my Irish Catholic boys’ secondary school do provide a rather tidier summary of the battle for the Catholic soul. Those with what might be called a Reichian bent would oft-times be heard asserting that “99% of men are wankers, and the other 1% are liars.” The Catholic rebuttal has a distinctly Thomistic flavour: “Wanking makes you blind.” Graham Linehan, QED. Glinner’s ludicrously overblown “resentment at everything that religion had put me through” might garner some sympathy if attributed nostalgically to that masturbating guilt-ridden teenaged Linehan, but if Tough Crowd is anything to go by, the mature Linehan appears steadfastly consistent with his revolutionary younger self. And in light of the sheer malice and depravity and ferocity of the attacks by, to use Glinner’s own phrase, the Gender Stasi, the expected re-evaluation of his teenaged judgement on the Catholic Church never appears. Maybe the Thomists at St Jarlath’s College were right all along. Suddenly, the radical incongruity of Glinner’s moral double standards becomes easier to understand, as E. Michael Jones explains:
The most insidious corruption brought about by sexual sin, however, is the corruption of the mind. One moves all to easily from sexual sins, which are probably the most common to all mankind, to intellectual sins which are the most pernicious.[17]
Linehan’s intellectual failure becomes an almost comic feature of the book. So ingrained has his resentment against the Catholic Church become, that it never seems to dawn on him that, given the apparently limitless insanity and malice of the post-Christian world, maybe, just maybe, those crazy old Catholic priests were right all along. Glinner is holding fast to his apostasy, and yet the book is awash with Catholic imagery, with heresies and high heresies, and demons and bitten apples popping up with alarming regularity, following, in this example, a priceless if unacknowledged tribute to Dave Chappelle:
Macy Gray yanked the record company’s leash simply by standing up for herself as a woman and they yanked back hard enough to bring her to her knees. She just about made it through to the other side by virtue of delivering that humiliating apology, a strong woman humbled by forces she hadn’t realised she’d taken on. But the activists will only remember her for her original sin, not the apology, however many stations of the cross she observes to absolve herself.[18]
On the 4th July 2022, Macy Gray, as readers may well know, had the audacity to tell Piers Morgan, “just because you go change your parts doesn’t make you a woman.”[19] One good yank on that leash – it looks like chains for the chaps and leashes for the ladies – and one whole day later, Macy reassured Rolling Stone that she was safely back on the plantation:
My statement on Piers Morgan was grossly misunderstood. I don’t hate anyone. I respect everyone’s right to feel comfortable in their bodies and live their own truth.[20]
Yo, Macy! Fight the power! Glinner himself, the writer of Ireland’s very own unchained melody, is learning the hard way that rather than disappearing, the chains seem to have proliferated beyond Charles Dickens’ wildest dreams. With bullet-points courtesy of Linehan himself, here’s what chain-free 21st century sexual liberation looks like:
• Someone ejaculates on a photo of me, takes a picture of it and posts it on Twitter.
• Someone takes a photo of me sitting outside a café, posts it on
Christmas Day and tells people I’m there at Christmas because I’ve lost my family.
• Trans activists tweet about dancing and pissing on my grave, adding that my ex-wife and children will piss on my grave too.
• A medical professional mocks up a fake prescription under my name and posts it online to suggest I have gone insane.[21]
Come back Torquemada, all is forgiven. Glinner is representative of our whole generation, which continues to labour under the illusion that a partial revolution is possible. We’re learning the hard way that if you throw off your Catholic yoke, you very soon start to sport a Jewish chain, and you start to internalise the Jewish revolutionary spirit. Yes, Glinner, revolutions always start off with no-end of encouraging slogans and liberationist soundbites – and licence to masturbate – and always end up with some unspeakable variation on the Terror, be it the Gulag or the killing fields or the abortion mill. And now, as he documents so movingly in Tough Crowd, the breast binding, the testosterone-induced male pattern baldness for young women, the mastectomies and the phallectomies, the death threats and the suicides, and the in-built potential for extreme violence. With the assault on language, a central theme of the book, I kept thinking, surely a brilliant writer born in 1968 has read 1984? And then I went back and discovered that Glinner has read 1984. In Tough Crowd, he invokes the ghost of Winston Smith and his 2+2=4 appeal to freedom, in order to validate the iron logic of Linehan’s own man+lipstick≠female prisoner. Glinner will deservedly go down in history as the man who challenged the latest orthodoxy that some women – especially the ones with testicles – are more equal than others, and that some trannies are more equal than others, but, sad to say, he remains steadfastly oblivious to the fatal flaw in his own position: once you decide that some babies are more equal than others, don’t be surprised when the commissars come along and decide that some award-winning sit-com writers are more equal than others, and that it’s the stubborn ones who end up in Room 101.
If he’d stuck to his original plan of writing short stories, we might be talking about Graham Linehan as the ghost of Dublin’s most celebrated degenerate modern. James Joyce is Exhibit A in the case which proves that wanking makes you blind, though his choice of Dublin’s most acclaimed fictional Jew, Leopold Bloom, as the wanker in question might be considered unnecessarily crude in its apparent reference to Synagoga:
And then a rocket sprang and bang shot blind blank and O! then the Roman candle burst and it was like a sigh of O! and everyone cried O! O! in raptures and it gushed out of it a stream of rain gold hair threads and they shed and ah! they were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden, O so lovely, O, soft, sweet, soft! Then all melted away dewily in the grey air: all was silent.[22]
Dave Allen
Glinner opted for the more conventional approach to the elicitation of laughter and becomes the comedy-writing reincarnation of Dave Allen, the Dubliner who was given his own show on the BBC in the year that Graham Linehan was born:
As a Catholic child, I was brought up believing that I had a guardian angel. This big spook with wings hovering around me all the time. And my mother would say to me: ‘Did you do something naughty?’ I’d say: ‘No, I didn’t.’ She’d say: ‘Liar!’ I’d say: ‘No, I didn’t lie.’ And she’d say: ‘Oh, yes, you did – the curtains moved!’ So I’d say: ‘What have the curtains got to do with it?’ And she’d say: ‘That’s your guardian angel going out the window. He’s so disappointed with you for telling a lie he’s pissed off!’[23]
It’s a thin line between Catholic comedy and Jewish comedy – and this joke shows Dave Allen as maybe the first Irishman on TV to step across that line. Dave Allen’s rise to comedy fame also includes early work in journalism, an early move to London, eventual ascent to the top of the comedy tree and, ultimately, membership of the British comedy hall of fame – in Allen’s case a 1996 Lifetime Achievement Award.[24] He’s been credited with doing for religion what Lenny Bruce did for sex and the four-letter word.[25] That’s a bit harsh on Lenny Bruce and Dave Allen, both of whom went above and beyond the call of duty in all three departments:
A lot of people think that the Irish come across here because of work, economics or even religion or religious persecution. It’s got nothing to do with that. The reason we come to your country is because over here you’re a permissive society. In Ireland but not here you have sex before marriage. In Ireland we do not. We come to get our share.[26]
Speak for yourself Dave. God knows, plenty of Paddies of Dave Allen’s and Graham Linehan’s generations succumbed to the London lure of a bit of nookey, but Linehan and Allen share the distinction of offering up the Catholic Faith, their parents, and their fellow Paddies and Biddies on the altar of British Comedy, in return for its acceptance, approval, and in their case not a little adulation. Meanwhile, back in Ireland, some people started to scratch that ever-present itch, otherwise known as the Irish inferiority complex. Well, that’s not fair say the Irish. Why should we have to go to London to get our share? We can be just as permissive as the English – we’re just as good as them. If England can be a permissive society, well, by gorrah, so can Ireland. If condoms are good enough for the English, they’re good enough for us. We’re fed up of the English having all the good stuff – they have the pill, so we’ll have it too. And our women shouldn’t have to go to London to get an abortion – we’re perfectly well able to look after our own. Hands off, England! If two English gayboys can get married, why shouldn’t our lads have the same opportunity?…
[…] This is just an excerpt from the March 2024 Issue of Culture Wars magazine. To read the full article, please purchase a digital download of the magazine, or become a subscriber!
Articles:
Culture of Death Watch
Murder in West Cork by Geraldine Comiskey
Features
The Triumph of Walter Lüftl by John Beaumont
The Ethnic Cleansing of German Minorities after the War by Dr. E. Michael Jones
Reviews
Tough Crowd: How I Made and Lost a Career in Comedy by Sean Naughton
(Endnotes Available by Request)
[1] Linehan, Graham. Tough Crowd: How I Made and Lost a Career in Comedy. Eye Press. Kindle Edition, p12
[2] Ibid, p147
[3] Ibid, p32
[4] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0NQphQZXhFM
[5] Rod Liddle in Conversation with Graham Linehan (29th October 2023): www.youtube.com/watch?v=mPDz5b6QFqM
[6] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rxUm-2x-2dM
[7] Ibid
[8] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9W33wCm7Ao
[9] Tough Crowd, p174
[10] Ibid, p20
[11] Ibid, p179
[12] Ibid, p21
[13] Jones, E Michael (Ed. By John Beaumont) – The Jews and Moral Subversion (2016) South Bend; Fidelity Press, p21
[14] Tough Crowd, p22
[15] Ibid
[16] Ibid, p23
[17] Jones, E Michael Degenerate Moderns. South Bend, Indiana: Fidelity Press, 2012, p11
[18] Tough Crowd, p216
[19] Ibid
[20] https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/macy-gray-transphobic-comments-response-1378295/
[21] Tough Crowd, pp 253-254
[22] Joyce, James; Classics, Prometheus. Ulysses (Prometheus Classics). Prometheus Classics. Kindle Edition, p341.
[23] Mccann, Graham. The Essential Dave Allen . Hodder & Stoughton. Kindle Edition, location 1313
[24] Ibid, p8
[25] Ibid, location 449
[26] Ibid, location 1313
[27] Tough Crowd, p69
[28] Jones, E Michael The Jewish Revolutionary Spirit (2010) South Bend: Fidelity Press, p989
[29] Ibid, p967 Also in Culture Wars Magazine: Who Shtupped the Shiksa? Harvey Weinstein Creates Moral Panic in Hollywood Volume 31, Issue 40 – Dec 2017 https://culturewars.com/volumes-31-40/cw-37-1?rq=weinstein
[30] https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/22/world/europe/elon-musk-auschwitz-jewish-antisemitism.html
[31] Kavanagh, Patrick. The Green Fool (Penguin Modern Classics). Penguin Books Ltd. Kindle Edition, p268
[32] https://www.youtube.com/shorts/EtaL5xaSxcE
[33] Ibid, p12
[34] Ibid, p225
[35] Ibid, p215
[36] Ibid, p59
[37] Ibid, p13
[38] Ibid, p234
[39] Rev, Denis Fahey, The Kingship of Christ and The Conversion of the Jewish Nation (1953) Dublin: Regina
Publications, p124
[40] Ibid, p174
[41] Ibid, p216
[42] Ibid, p216-217
[43] https://www.firstthings.com/article/2003/02/the-virtue-of-hate
[44] Tough Crowd, p183
