So, like, when you think about it, the Roma/Gypsies are like the ultimate iteration of the AnCap/AnCom wet dream.
They don't give a fuck about economics. They don't give a fuck about the state. They don't give a fuck about borders. They don't give a fuck about the nation or people. They don't even really give a fuck about "private property" (unless its theirs).
And the largest they'll ever seriously get is a couple of caravans in a field/wood somewhere or a mob chasing a particularly wealthy tourist while claiming "I'm not Indian, I'm European!!".
OK, that last part was more-so a joke......Or was it?
It's amazing how the ordinary person doesn't realize their disdain for even an iota of (in this case, imagined) "antisemitism" (and just "racism" in general) does not come from a place of love or whatever, but from a place of fear. They fear consequence. They are afraid. They are forced, through fear, into accepting policy unquestioningly.
They fear saying something, and then the mob coming after them and attacking not only them, but their families; their children. They fear a (pun intended) Biblical response.
How can a group of people be so powerless; so weak, and yet they're able to control a bloodthirsty mob and direct it as they see fit against the slightest infraction?
How are they able to have so much power, that they don't even need to physically direct the mob. The mere thought. The mere thought about a thought. That is enough to make people panic and then recant things that they haven't even said. It's like a CIA blacksite torture session. They'll say anything, anything to get the torture to stop, to make the fear for their life go away.
That is a giant amount of power there. And yet, no one ever talks about that power (for obvious reasons).
How can we have "brotherhood" when the "brother" we have is forcing us to "love" him, essentially under pain of death. That's not a "loving" relationship, that is 100% an abusive one.
I AM !
I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.
- John Clare
Reading up on Napoleon's relationship with Josephine got my tear ducts flowing man.
He insisted that she be called Empress, even after their divorce.
When she died, he locked himself in his room on Elba for 2 days.
His last words before his death were "France, the Army, the Head of the Army, Joséphine".
I don't know man, whatever...