The Cure for Hate by Tony McAleer

Author:Tony McAleer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arsenal Pulp Press
Published: 2019-03-12T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

DISENGAGEMENT

ALTHOUGH I WAS RECEIVING the most attention I’d ever received while running the Canadian Liberty Net, fighting the Human Rights Commission, and expanding the skinhead scene into the organized white supremacist movement, by the mid-nineties, I had never felt more lonely, empty, and unsatisfied. Everything was going wrong—and it was always someone else’s fault.

I was laid off from my lucrative pest control job, and my flight school closed down and embezzled all the student enrollment fees two weeks before I was to take my commercial flight test. Because I had taken out a loan and was no longer in flight school, the bank wanted its money back, and the Canada Revenue Agency disallowed my tuition deduction because the school was now non-existent. In the end, I had no choice but to declare bankruptcy.

I also found myself in a loveless relationship based on need and co-dependency, trying to raise two young children. They were the only source of joy in my life and the only reason to stay. Feelings of total powerlessness permeated my relationship with Michelle, as I felt trapped in a toxic union by the bond of our two children. My love for the children meant that I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, leave them. And I was consumed by the anger that stemmed from feeling like Michelle had deceived me with regard to the pregnancies and had not given me a choice in the matter. In my state of self-absorption, I never once considered Michelle’s circumstances or concerns. Instead, the anger and resentment I felt toward the outside world started to pervade my personal relationships and my interior life.

Drunk on power, the skinhead scene (now mostly based in Surrey) also entered a new phase of dysfunction. Bickering, infighting, jealousies, and ego trips started to take over. Infidelities were rampant and created even more drama.

One Saturday afternoon, I received a phone call asking if I knew anything about a friend sleeping with another person’s girlfriend. I knew the people involved and what had happened, but I told the person I wanted nothing to do with it. Two hours later, when I was about six beers into Hockey Night in Canada, I heard a knock at the door. Standing there were two of the band members from Odin’s Law, asking me the same question I’d been asked on the phone. As they stepped into my front hallway and again demanded the name of the friend in question, my answer was the same. When they once again didn’t get the information they were looking for, I suddenly experienced a blue flash—the quite familiar sensation (to me, at least) that comes when you are hit in the head so hard that it shocks the brain. As pain shot through my face, I stumbled backwards to the floor. After weathering a flurry of punches and several kicks, I coughed up the name and the beating stopped. They promptly walked out the door while I turned around, blood dripping out of my mouth, to see my two-and-half-year-old son startled and crying.

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