In my sometimes soberly considered opinion, Thomas Sheridan, (Irishman, Public Intellectual-moralist, Furnace and Generator of badly necessary Rants and Philippics against the vile state of almost everything in the current, disastrous, despicable, dystopian, dinosaur-infested world) is one of the very bright spots in this place. This particular failing universe of human beings and Modern western so-called civilization.
I discovered him for myself about 10 or so years ago and he ages like the best scotch, of the kind i can no longer reasonably afford if i wish to survive on anything more than my monthly allotment of vaccinated and genetically modified government gruel and cheese. He ages like my beautiful grandmother, Katherine---God rest her divine, delightful and spirited soul---or like each of her beautiful children and other progeny, who i miss and love very much. Now it's rather too easy to find fault with Thomas, with his tone, style and general demeanor. Not for me, of course, I automatically love a scabrous and resentful, brilliant motherfucker like he. But being rankled by a man of Sheridan's high value maleness is often the result, when a normie-type creature is confronted by hyper-intelligent intellectuals, the type, that is, who are also imbued with confident self-certainty and the spirit of the public moralist. The kind of person who froths with contempt for the evil and stupidity of the world, and is simply incapable of keeping quiet about it, because to do that would show one's complicity. One's neglect of soul and virtue and all the good things that make us not quite lower animals. The things that make us human and worth not taking straight to the stockades and gallows and town square to be tarred, feathered and pelted by the terrible children, as most of us so completely deserve, in one sense or another. Sheridan has really been "killing it" lately. That's another African-American bit of hip-hop era parlance the black community has been generous enough to gift to the larger, popular culture, and it means to do something well. To "slay," in other words. Or even to "murder," which the youths and 35 year olds also say these days, like cynical programmable toys. But TS has been murdering the murky, usually cloudy-weather car-testimonial for many years now.
People tend not to like you if you are certain of yourself and about your business, while you are explaining to them that the world is unconscionably evil and that they themselves are not behaving very well, in the grandest, moral and spiritual sense. Sheridan doesn't pull his punches and never dumbs anything down. I have to assume 90% of Americans wouldn't make it past 2 or so minutes of his even-tempered rants, in that gorgeous, educated Irish brogue of his. He commented recently about Common Core and how its chief purpose probably was to ruin the cognition of westerners. To finally bring our sad, rusty minds to heel, and complete this long-term process of The State administering lithium and lobotomies to the cheerily subjugated population of the developed world, who were always, regardless of race, sex, and creed, meant to be absolutely nothing more than tractable donkey wage-earners. War-fodder and empty lever-pullers in the machine of pretend-democracies, and so on.
Verily, people always resent being told they're asleep at the wheel and not nearly as decent and well-informed as they imagine. They like it even less when the bearer of this lately very relevant bit of news does it with flair, and never or rarely erms or uh's, and also peppers their screed and reporting with clever flourishes and countless references about the world, history, and ideas that soar completely over the listener's head like a secret military aircraft powered by hidden, suppressed systems of physics that could probably end hunger and war, if directed properly and not by psychopaths, as Sheridan is very fond of designating our masters and leaders. The other thing which is now so terribly clear to me as I get closer to being a truly crotchety and venomous old person, is that when delivering one's sermons of contempt and moral apoplexy, actually being angry and fed up while doing so will very often turn off the listener, reader or audience. I suppose it makes them want to go huff more of that handsomely state-subsidized Soma, too. I cannot and would never dream of doing anything for you, man or woman, if that's your problem with me or anything that i write, personally. If you're not angry about the world and the ascendant state of evil, corruption, infantilizing, pedo-adjacent super-hero movie franchises and general spiritual-cultural depravity, then fuck you, again and again and again. You oiled-down, chemically sexless handmaiden of wickedness. You god-damned greased-up sodomite lemming. 
It's not purply or an exaggeration for me to say that i view Sheridan, warts and distemper and all, as being in the category of John Coltrane, if only in the sense that he makes me very proud to belong to the human race, to the species that can create someone so decent in their art, or their sputtering disgust and dissatisfaction with this horror-show which most people think is generally not worth fussing over and saying nasty things about. Coltrane is the glorious carrot and Sheridan is the fundamentally necessary and quite effective stick. His recent vlog addressing the State of Africa right now and its relationship with Russia and China, one that is in fact being mischaracterized at large by the vicious and venal, mammonist banker-directed western media, is a very good place to start, if you haven't dipped into the salubrious acid-bath of TS yet. Here is another intense scrubbing for you, one i haven't even finished yet, but am still confident will be good for your heart, like terminating your Netflix account. It's understandable if you find him off-putting in his seeming arrogance, at times. In his defense, though, the state of the world and of gross human bastardliness in this day and age, is simply forcing people who are both smart and properly morally outraged, to seem arrogant. It's a simple matter of pre-Demonic Common Core arithmetic. The average person is such a careless, self-absorbed piece of shitty garbage, you see. But it is by design, at least. The learned public moralist, when compared to the manipulated but still necessarily traduced normie, is indeed full of themselves, in what i consider to be the right and more or less excusable way. They're also full of concern.
I really don't have the energy today to write the appropriately glowing essay or paragraphs of praise for Thomas Sheridan, over there in Ireland, being illegally and surreptitiously capped at less than 50k subs, fighting the grotesque laboratory monster of collective reality from his humid motorcar. But the coast is clear for me to say that he is a bit of microcosmic proof of how we're not all so disgustingly bad and that there's hope, still. Now i strongly suggest listening to this Coltrane rendition of Don't Take Your Love From Me. I think, in my opinion you understand, it's one of the most wonderful personal interpretations of a ballad that he ever recorded. (It includes the probable and definitely under-celebrated genius, Wilbur Harden, on trumpet.) If you like what's been composed and distributed here, and think there's something like a unique value to what i sometimes attempt to do in this way, writing, please consider donating some durable form of shekel, ruble, or state digital currency unit to me, if i ever get around to making such an act of charity possible or more secure than the phone-centered, money transfer apps whose handles of mine you might be able to find wandering lonesomely around here somewhere. You're also welcome to direct-message me. I am very friendly and known for my almost instantaneous replies. "Mackindoll" is my gmail handle, and it's not as flirtatious or conceited as it sounds. It refers to a hero of the Haitian revolution, if you must know.
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| https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItpBVrKGfZc |
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