I had a guess who may have written this

but then I though na.Not enough brevity for him

Rangers: The Triumph of Anti-Everything
Written by Che Timvara
Friday, 02 May 2008
I am writing this a mere ninety minutes after seeing the cataclysm that unfolded in Florence and I feel a little bit as though something so awful has happened that my head hasn’t quite got around it yet, that something so diabolic has taken place that the world will never quite seem the same again.



Why does it feel like this? People around me, those who sense my dark mood and despair, are trying to keep my head up tonight. People have texted me, some have spoken to me online, others have called and expressed their disappointment, but some of them aren’t football fans, just concerned for my general well-being tonight, and others ARE football fans but just don’t get this.


And you know what? Tonight, I don’t get it either.



Football results have thrown me into despair before. Black Sunday was probably the lowest point of my life so far, aside from the death of relatives. Mark that one down. The lowest point of my life. Those who say this is only a game just don’t get it, do they? No break-up with a girlfriend, no loss of a job, not even The Ones That Got Away have felt so absolutely soul-sapping as moments like Black Sunday. As moments like tonight.



Sometimes I wish I had chosen to follow a different game, but I could no more have decided that than the colour of my skin. It was written in the stars that I would be a football fan, and when that was determined it was certain I would be a Celtic fan, and my entire ethos, world view, Hell, even my politics, have been informed and influenced and grown out of that simple fact.


Some will say it was all inspired by a choice, and one I was not even privy to. Some will say it was made for me, when my old man took me to see the Hoops for the first time.


In the end it is no more chosen for us, though, than we chose it for ourselves. It is simply meant to be. We are brought to it, not it to us. It is as clear-cut as that, and in the end being a Celtic fan has never been about the football anyway. That is the smallest part of it.



It’s about belonging to a Family, to a culture, to a Cause. It’s about being part of something that doesn’t remain stagnant but evolves, and it does so partly through the direction of everyone involved in it. And what’s more, because we all play such a part in the direction of our club it truly does belong to us all, and it is something we can hand over to the next generation as the traditions were handed to us, secure in the knowledge that it will evolve still, into something better again, and once more passed along.



Let me be clear. The events tonight in Florence have not damaged the institutions I belong to or hurt the club that I love. They are wholly separate from us, and we from them, but they hurt nonetheless and in a way I should have expected but did not.



Tonight a Scottish team returns from abroad with one hand on a continental trophy, and whilst much of this country will be celebrating that fact, I will not be. Frankly, I would rather be anywhere else in the world at the present time, because to live in Scotland right now is to live next to the worlds largest open sewer, and if the stink was not bad enough it is about to get much, much worse.



Some of the guys online, on other forums, have offered Rangers and their fans congratulations. I have been asked by a few folk if I intend to do so myself, and the answer is a resounding no. I simply cannot bring myself to do it, although admittedly I have not tried very hard.



I do not wish them well at all. In any way.



Everything our own culture represents; tolerance, dignity, respect, all the qualities that make it evolve, have their anti-thesis in the institution we share our society with. Across the street, they are all about intolerance, bigotry, racism and hate. They do not so much evolve as they mutate, into more virulent, toxic forms and shapes, and they pollute the atmosphere of our country.



Am I speaking for all of them? Tonight, unfortunately, yes I am. There are, doubtless, Rangers supporters who are all about supporting their team through thick and thin, and who do not hold sectarian views. But I could not, in all honesty, associate myself with an institution which made me routinely feel utterly ashamed.



To my friends who support Rangers, tonight I ask you why. Do you not realise you are part of the problem, because to even use the term itself “I am a Rangers fan” you are giving credibility to those who see that term as a statement of corrupt, debased values?



Those Rangers fans who claim not to be involved in the bigotry and the bile, who claim it does not reflect their views, have the power to renounce this club and all it represents, and to pretend the club itself is not representative of those views and so is worthy of support is to deny the obvious, and every bit of evidence that presently exists.



You and other “non sectarian” Rangers fans support this bigoted, corrupt institution in many, many ways, some emotionally, some financially, and my view on all of you tonight is coloured by the fact you could renounce all of it, in a heartbeat, if it offended you so much, and yet you chose not to. I cannot help tonight but judge you all the same way; Guilty by association. Guilty for maintaining silence. Guilty for doing nothing to make things better.



For what, tonight, is a Rangers fan? What, tonight, is the view of that club as seen by millions? I heard Big Jock Knew tonight. Supporters who sing with glee about child abuse because it might impinge on the name of a man so great they will be basking in his shadow for eternity however the result of their final turns out. I heard Why Don’t You Go Home, the latest anthem to hatred and as sickening a song as they have sung for many, many years. In a Catholic country, they sang a song with the lyrics “we hate Celtic, fenian bastards”, in total contravention of UEFA rules and in their Union Jack attire and with voices raised proud they sang triumphal songs of the deaths of thousands and capped it all off with their now familiar chant of racial and religious supremacy We Are The People.



Rangers fans have, in the past few weeks, brought banners to the match saying “Nakamura Ate My Dog.” They have flown flags which describe the Catholic religion as Voodoo and then reacted with the fury of the bigot to Boruc’s expression of religious faith. They have sang anthems to sectarian murderers. They have made Nazi salutes at games, though they call them Red Hand Salutes, as though honouring Loyalists who killed Catholics were somehow better than honouring Nazis who killed Jews. In their expressions of anger at Celtic being an Irish club rather than a Scottish one, a ludicrous notion, they ignore the fact they are THE most pro-union club in the land and even held a day to commemorate the fact.


THAT is the core Rangers support. THAT is what every Rangers fan buys into when they use that term in self-description. Tonight they will celebrate their triumph as a family, as one group, in a way I simply could not bring myself to do if it were in a context so shameful and debased as they have created for themselves.



For me, I believe that when you want to know what truly represents internal disgust in an organisation or grouping you look at those who walk away. The mantra of staying to “fight the corner of the righteous” merely means you can criticise from within but are still eligible to go to the party. It’s a sham, because you attend that party with the same old faces and sing the same old songs and in triumph there is no difference between you at all.



Rangers FC are rotten to the core, and have been for many, many years. Its boardroom is rotten with bigotry. Its chairman is a bigot. Its manager is a bigot. His coaching staff are mostly bigots and any number of its players are bigots and the rest are shameless mercenaries, some of whom are perfectly content to draw their wages as their own background, culture and religion is slated and abused from the stands as well as within the club itself. They are not worthy of respect in any way, shape or form.



Rangers FC is a cultural icon in Scotland, and only in a country this screwed up could it be held up as a positive example. It simply is not true that they are forward looking and responsible. It is simply a lie to say they are committed to change when all the available evidence says otherwise. What we saw tonight was a victory for every knuckle dragger, every bigot, every racist, every hate-filled yob who waves a Union Jack and sings “We are The People”, and that fact makes me sick to my stomach and it makes me feel awful.



When the greatest moment of my life comes and I meet the girl who sweeps my emotions away, and we get married and she tells me we’re having a baby, I swear to God I will pick that moment to leave this country and never come back. Tonight I dread tomorrow. Tonight I am ashamed to be Scottish, in particular ashamed to be from the West of Scotland, and I dread the next few days.



The same media which has lambasted our keeper, which has ignored their sectarian bile, which has shamed itself by silence, its own version of those Rangers fans who say they find it all appalling and yet continue to attend The Bigot Dome and give it their support, will be united in joy, and ignorant of shame



We will be ostracised as the backward, for not lending them our support, for not getting behind this country’s sole representative in the final of a European competition. All the triumphalism surrounding them will be on naked display, and we will once again be forced to acknowledge that although some of us were born here, we simply do not belong in the way they do to our horrible, insular and deeply bitter little society. And whilst I do not wish to truly belong to something so corrupt and awful, I will again feel like an outsider looking in, in the country of my birth, and I am deeply sickened by that.



The footballing purists will bemoan tonight as the victory of anti-football. I bemoan it as simply the victory of Anti. They are Anti to their very cores. The only people who will be feeling worse than ourselves tonight at the poor souls of Manchester, who are about to get their very own lesson in anti-social.



I say again, I know how I feel tonight, but I struggle with the emotion. It is so raw, so sharp, so severe, I feel a little bit sick. I look at the big teams in England, at how their fans feel, and I know the Arsenal fans don’t feel like this seeing Chelsea in a European final. I think of the Manchester City support, and I know they don’t feel this way. I know the fans or Russia’s other sides don’t feel nausea at the thought Zenit will triumph.



I do not like the way I feel tonight, because it reminds me there is still a tie that binds us to them, and that is their hate, which grows and nurtures and feeds our own. I understand it all too well tonight, after having endured the month of April like a bear with a sore head as the press has launched wave after wave of attacks on my culture, my religion and my football club. And doubtless, those same people who have nurtured and fostered and fed this hate in my heart will offer their sarcastic suggestion that I and those like me put it aside for “the good of Scottish football” and the nation as a whole.



I say they can all eat dirt. Because I will not go down that road. To Hell with the co-efficient and to Hell with the “good of the game.” Never has such negativity in the sport been rewarded with the prospect of such rewards. The greatest benefit to the game would have come with Fiorentina wiping them away and sparing us all the awful spectacle of this dreadful side in a final.



I refuse to accept we should happy about the export of such sectarian filth to our neighbours in the South. I refuse to celebrate in the fact songs and banners of hatred will be seen throughout the world, which might mistake them from being representative of the Scottish people as a whole, although they certainly DO represent much of our culture. On a night like tonight I am ashamed of this country and dismayed at how it will be portrayed in the next two weeks.



All this talk of “the good of Scottish football” translates merely into “it will be for the good of Rangers”, but as the interests of the game here and those of that bigoted institution are never all that far apart anyway they certainly do not require my support, or yours, if they are to succeed against all that is decent. The league campaign will now be extended, without the connivance of the rest of our sides and to the detriment of all of them, and the fans too, and so those making that argument can sit on it for all I care.



Tonight, darkness has descended across European football. We are not alone in mourning its coming, but we certainly feel the pain, the anguish, the mounting horror, more acutely than anyone else. And yet there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and if it is to grow brighter and not burn out we must pick ourselves out of the doldrums and walk with heads held high into the world. For they want us to hide. They want us to be in fear. They want us to lower our heads and avert our eyes and in doing so assure their ascendancy.



There is still something to play for this season, and it is more than just pride, and if we win our remaining games I believe in my heart of hearts that it will come to pass. We CAN still take this league title, and if we compose ourselves and give it everything we have then certainly we shall. The road ahead is dark, but the path remains clear.



And if we should make it, well, what then? Can you imagine a day like it? The darkness of tonight shall be swept away. The gardens will bloom. The children will sing. The sun will again dance in the sky.

Jesus Bewls, this is low quality SF material mate.

Fuck me Bewlay that's longer than War And Peace. I'm not reading all that :face:


Can you sum it up in 10 words (or fewer)

was your guess right?