You, sir, are a bloody fascist!
The other day I had an amiable chat until the chap says, “You’re a bloody fascist!”
“Truly?” asks your Big Red Car.
“Yes. You’re a bloody fascist.” No exclamation point this time.
“What exactly is a fascist in this context?” asks your BRC.
The chap could not really enlighten me. Deer in the linguistic headlights sort of dumbfounded look.
I then conduct an experiment and ask pals of mine from both sides of the aisle, “What is a fascist?”
Blank stares and one good overview of Benito Mussolini’s bio. Continue reading




