the_dunk_tank

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It's the dunk tank.

This is where you come to post big-brained hot takes by chuds, libs, or even fellow leftists, and tear them to itty-bitty pieces with precision dunkstrikes.

Rule 1: All posts must include links to the subject matter, and no identifying information should be redacted.

Rule 2: If your source is a reactionary website, please use archive.is instead of linking directly.

Rule 3: No sectarianism.

Rule 4: TERF/SWERFs Not Welcome

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Rule 8: The subject of a post cannot be low hanging fruit, that is comments/posts made by a private person that have low amount of upvotes/likes/views. Comments/Posts made on other instances that are accessible from hexbear are an exception to this. Posts that do not meet this requirement can be posted to [email protected]

Rule 9: if you post ironic rage bait im going to make a personal visit to your house to make sure you never make this mistake again

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more like midwest.liberal (hexbear.net)

submitted 6 months ago by [email protected] to c/[email protected]

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[–] [email protected] 33 points 6 months ago* (last edited 6 months ago)

I have a new project I am working on. I am transcribing my great grandfather's book about our family's flight from british rule in occupied Ireland.

Some thought the agent was doing this with the knowledge or permission of the land lord. Mathew Martin, my grandfather, was one who thought that way. When refused his lease for the usual reason, he went to the land lord and was told he would be given--a ninety-nine years lease, to him and his heirs rent free--if he would promise to have his children brought up in the English Church.

I have heard them say that Grandfather told the man he might go where he could light his pipe with the end of his finger. But I suspect he was wise enough not to say that until he was where neither landlord nor agent could hear him. Such Language would have caused his arrest and imprisonment. Whether he said it or not does not matter. What he did was to hurry home and take himself out of his holding (little farm) before the bailiff had a chance to evict him.

This was in 1843, and Mathew Martin, with his wife and three children - Joseph, Hannah and Edmund, bade goodby to Ireland and took the long road to America.

Folks were way more creative with their insults back then.