It’s all really weird in the true Anglo-Saxon meaning of a wayward twist of the fates. It seems to sit on two life callings - being someone and/or doing something. It’s a persona trip that has to be fought over because by nature it’s territorial, exclusive, demarcated, mostly male, left hand pathy and therefore open to behavioural science, pathology etc. Used to be you could all just muck in together and smash cunts at the football. Jokes.
Red Wedge had recruits from firms and working class Irish, but the right’s presence wasn’t digital then. Its belligerence is standard intransigence though. No change there, agitators will always coalesce. Having experienced wonky, nationalist, influences at school and church, where Cromwell was Satan (and remains so) and the English were all Bond villains, any study of identity comes with a weird mood. It’s the propensity for violence and chaos, the inevitably of people enjoying the friction it necessitates. The ‘true punks’ inverted inward, but mostly confused narcissism when facing outward reeking of intellectual entitlement.