LogFAQs > #950242757

I've discussed this before, elsewhere on GameFAQS. I pissed away several years of my wasted (and now-distant) youth by serving my political apprenticeship as an activist on the extreme right. I'm a living, breathing example of that near-mythical creature: a reformed neo-Nazi.

Thank God, the only relics I've got left from those years are a couple of tattoos (Odal rune and wolf's hook, if you're interested) and the shaved head. There's a huge gulf that now separates me from that earlier life. One measure of that distance is that I went from supporting convicted loyalist terrorists in Ulster (in my time I've sloshed around with quite a few people you probably wouldn't want to share a drink, or a jail cell, with) to genuine human rights activism with organizations like Amnesty International. I turned my back on white separatist groups like the AWB and demonstrated against apartheid instead. (That's right: I am that old.)

So, what happened? Did I find Jesus? No, fuck that. Instead, it was something I refused to believe would be possible: I fell in love with a black girl, the one who became my first wife. It was a shock like having a beer glass smashed into my face. It was the start of a badly-needed education in how to be a proper, normal human being. I'm not going to bore you with an inspirational, heart-warming story of the redemptive, transforming power of love, blah blah. Having to sever connections with some people who were, let's say, a little surprised and less than happy at this unexpected turn of events was a rough fucking ride, not a fairytale. This is why it pisses me off to no end when some fuckwit bonehead tells me I'm only a liberal because I've locked myself into an ivory tower all my life.

Does all that make me a better person or a worse person that someone who never needed to make that same journey? No idea. Sometimes I feel like dragging my life around 180 degrees from where it was is the proudest achievement I've ever had (and probably ever will have), but there's always a shitload of regret that reminds me the slate isn't wiped squeaky clean.

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Incinerate