Wednesday, 18 February 2015

WILLIE FRAZER IS PROOF OF A PSEUDO PEACE PROCESS



























Some of you's bhoys and ghirls are bould fenians, I'm not saying that you's are unrepentant bastards or anything like that, to insult ye, but you's are heartless. The Plantation of Ulster (Irish-Plandáil Uladh) the organized ethnic cleansing of the province and subsequent colonisation (plantation) by Britain in 1609 was not Willie Frazer's fault. It was an extension of Britain's first colony. Willie's father and Uncle paid the price of being in the British Army of Occupation in Ireland, and I am sure Willie is worried about the same happening to himself, as most people in occupied Ireland are today. Willie is simply following the Orange Order ideology, passed on to him by his father and you can't fault someone that stands by their belief or tradition, and stands their ground. No more than most of us, he is mostly a victim of circumstance and false, secret, ideology passed on to him by the Orange Order, on the basis of a forged letter by William Of Orange, who cam over from Holland and usurped the British throne.

I personally can empathize with Willie, because it's not my fault that I had a Blueshirt father, who waited until his deathbed, to admit he was wrong and my mothers republicanism was correct. That doesn't mean that everything my father taught me was wrong. One of the basic things he taught me was, that two wrongs do not make a right, and I believe this applies in the instance of Willie's visit to Dublin. Of course people can rightfully say, that Britain's Dirty War, with varying degrees of intensity, is still going on in Ireland, and that Willie as a member of the British territorial Army, is a fair target but I do not agree. He has stated the purpose of his march, is to highlight the secrecy, still surrounding the killing of members of his community. He and his fellow Orangemen, intend to march in full view, unarmed down O'Connell Street to Leinster House and lodge an official petition. Like the Dublin/Monaghan bombings, that slaughtered so many Dubliners, the execution of which, included some of Willie's neighbours, the truth still has not seen the light of day and everyone's families, including Willie's community, after so many years, are entitled to the truth, to put the past to rest and move on with their lives.

Perhaps I am an ignorant man but the only successful Peace Process, that has happened in my lifetime, is the one in South Africa, which was based on Truth and Reconciliation. Clearly this has not happened in Ireland. Archbishop Tutu oversaw a public, transparent, platform, which daily witnessed both perpetrators and victims, give clear accounts, of war crimes, that happened in the Apartheid era. There was so much public, grief, anger and tragedy on both sides in public view, that people from both black and white communities, could only empathize with the horror inficted on both sides and as a result cross the racial divide. That empathy, crossed the racial divide sufficently, that South Africa, despite it's linerging economic issues, succeeded in laying the foundation for a solution.This will never happen in Occupied Ireland for many reasons, unless Britain leaves. British civil service bureaucracy, which was inherited by all its Commonwealth states or former colonies, was also inherited in Ireland. It includes such instruments as the Official Secrets Act, thirty year secret provisions with redaction, that transparecy is impossible. So in the case of Willie's community and in the case of the Dublin/Monaghan victims, they will never learn the truth of the Dirty War or the collaboration as long as Britain controls Irish affairs. The Irish establishment also have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo, which leads to decades of more misery, especially the most vulnerable. We have a fake Peace Process, that made some progress but mostly at a superficial level. The Dirty War still goes on, mostly at low intensity, and will inevitably flare again, sparked by issues like POW torture, social injustice or heaven forbid another Hunger Strike.

Now it is far easier for me write this in my detached state, than for people confronted by this everyday thorn in their lives. It is also easier because I have been fortunate enough, to deal with my past resentments, which would be more correctly called hatred. I do not resent any British person today and I hope with the help of the stardust, it never happens again, because it simply tortured me and drove me out of my mind. So I hope I am not writing out of hate but simply love of my country and people, with all its different traditions, that includes Orangemen, although I must admit I do enjoy poking fun at them, along with the Xpensive Quill. However, this is a serious matter and perhaps, Willie carries similar resentments today, which if we reflect on it, is quite understandable.

My humble suggestion is that all the victims families in th south, peacefully join Willie in his "Love Ulster" march. Indeed I would respectfully suggest, everyone, peacefully join the "Love Ulster" march, with a word of Irish honour, that they will remain peaceful but that is perhaps not realisitic under present circumstance. People are entitled to their opinions and the right to peaceully express them, including Willie. I believe, if the Blueshirt Minster for Justice in Leinster House, has any heart and balls, should personally receive Willie's petition and genuinely give Willie a big hug but being a politcian, I doubt he has the sincerity to do this, without it being choreographed. But for the love of Buddah, someone who has processed their grief and resentment of the past, GIVE WILLIE A HUG! I also believe, that everyone who protests Willie's march, might consider starting a genune Peace Process, based on a Truth & Reconciliation platform, covered properly by the media, overseen by Archbishop Tutu. I believe all political prisoners, should be released, as was the case under the previous agreement and and did not re-offend. I believe Britain needs to give a clear and unequivocal declaration of withdrawal. I believe that the EU, has a responsibilty. along with the IMF, to make up the shortfall, in the annual 10 billion pound sterling, British taxpayer subsidy to the north, until the impoverished people of empire, are empowered to stand on their own two feet and be self-supporting. Now of course, none of this will happen, unless people get up off their arse and make it happen and that depends on how much you Love your Country and your children. GO ON! GIVE WILLIE A HUG!, NOT A BONE CRUSHER!







Mine’s a wee bush and Mi Wadi


by Perkin Warbeck
Even as he sashays down Sackville Street back again/ as ais aris at the head of his loyal followers in sashes and bowler hats and dashing old blades with fasces as long as Lurgan spades.

What a spectacle that will be: as the snaking regarders from Hollywood, County Wicklow with their furled copies of The Unionist Times under their oxters conjoin once more in the main drag of the Orange Free Stateen with their good buddies from Hollywood, County Down and their furled brollies (small b, go deo, Smoking Joe) in their simply red hands.

The choice of tunes will be an embarras de riches. Pardon one’s Kermit but as the House of Frazer originated in the landing strips of Normandy it does seem somehow not inappropriate.

‘Je suis Prest’ being also the motto on the family coat of arms.

Which is mischievously spelled betimes with an added letter ‘Je suis Priest’ and other times with a missing letter ‘Je suis Pest’. The Frazer who styles himself ‘Je suis Willie’ will remain stoically unimpressed and know better than to pay any attention to these sidewalk scoffers with ABC on their shins. As it says on the tin: ‘I am Ready’. (Derived, according to Phil the Philologist, from the Buckinhamshire term: ‘We are Readies’).

Surprisingly, strawberries rather than oranges feature in the family armorial crest, being a pun upon the Kermit word ‘fraisse’ for the fruit not an orange. The similarity and hilarity of cette parole with the family name was just too much pun for the fun-loving Frazers to ignore.

But, mais revenons a nos moutons: let us return to our song of songs.

In a wonderfully in-depth lookback at the first score years of ‘Ireland’s Recall’ in last Saturnine’s Unionist Times the outlook was anything but gloomy for the future of this national tantrum of the eggchasing game.

Rather did the author stand shoulder to shoulder with o for ovoid and optimism. Reminding his readers that when the Coulter chorus first got a Captain’s run out and rang out around the HQ of the Alickadoos a try was worth a mere three points. Look at it now: a full fiver. ‘I am Ready’, one might say,having small changed into ‘We are Readies’ as the game has morphed from the shamateur to the street walking pro.

No more will those who have loyally stood up for the Ulsterman in the wee, glorious past have to stand up for Connie. The second last or penultimate line in the leprechaun version of The Soldiers’ Song / Amhran na bhFiann being,of course/ ar ndoigh: ‘Shoving Connie around the Green’.

No more will Oor Woolie or Wee Sommy himself have to humiliate himself on his trips south of the Boyne Water by first having to shove Connie around Stephen’s Green in order to cheer on the Boyz in Green in the Aviva.

-Stuff ‘em, say SUFTUM.

It will be bye, bye, Miss United Oirland Pie in the Sky / BT even as the Prez’s Chevie get driven to the levie to find the levie dry and good ole boys wryly drinking up the headlines about the water charges and other divarsions.

It will be be bye, bye Peggy Sue agus Pegeen Mike and hello Mary LU.

No, not Mary Lou, Mary LU: as in Love Ulster.

Tiocfaidh ar LA / Our Lethal Allies will come !

All the way from the Glennane Peace Centre. Which as any Fianna Failler with an eye to regaining power will tell you, come averil,come April showers, when she’s not tellling you about ‘Sinn Fein/ IRA’ is Glen Fhionnain in the original leprechaun: The Valley of Fionnan and not, repeat not, the Valley of the Seventeenth Dail

Phew. Mine’s a wee bush and Mi Wadi.



Tuesday, 17 February 2015

DUBLIN LOVES WILLY




While everyone know that Willy is a thoroughbred Orangeman on his father side, the bloolline on his mortherside is a closely guarded secret. Away back, apprentlyher people, came to Markethill and Jonesboro to sell China from China. This is why Willy wears glasses, even though he has perfectly good eyesight. Now being a lover of Ornage culture he is also very fond of his Chinese culture and this is another reason, he bringing his goats to Dublin, for the Chinese New Year, which starts on the 19th of February. Normally, Willy breaks up his Irish winter, with a holiday on an Island, in the South China Sea, where the local langauge is a combination of Chinese, English and Malay, which is known as Chinglish. Well below are a couple transcripts of conversations he had on his last trip, which were taped. As you will see Will speaks eloquent Chinglish.

Kuniklo: a you! a you!
Kuniklo: I'll breathe in your face you laowai
Kuniklo: don't a you carr me pigga!
Kuniklo: why, I'rr smoke all over you, and a frow my teef at you when they is fell ou
Willy : haha don't maka me getta mise ofer hand ouot ofa mise nose
Kuniklo: yers! I'rr frow my nose gold atta you!
Kunikl: I digging right a now!
Kuniklo: oh. Me not find gold yet. Let a me keep trying
Willy: eurekka, i gotta me some bigga nuggets here in mise hand for yous
Kuniklo: hmm, this is a nice. I like a peeking my nose
Kuniklo: I is forget everything. I just a want pick nose now.
Kuniklo: is really? you geeva me gold?
Kuniklo: I can't a peek down any, er gold
Willy: hows bout i make a freends wiv you and we bee gooda freends, i pimp my goets, letta yous ride my goet five dolla
Kuniklo: eevu you geev me you gold, we can be gouda friends!
Kuniklo: I know you two minutes! yers, we is olda friends
Kuniklo: sures!
Kuniklo: I like a make friends
Kuniklo: I like to speet people, then they say, "deed a you speet on me?!"
Kuniklo: ranhou I says, "yers! you sound a like my hometown people!"
Kuniklo: "let's be friends!"
Willy: in chinese is not same, meet you for 1 day I give yous mise nuggets and me wife-a, an goet, then we good very freendss
Kuniklo: I make a friends. I speet on a peoples.
Kuniklo: I like a rubbish
Willy: throwing rubbishes is a china tradition
Kuniklo: I like a too buy things. then I take a things wrappers, and stand in the rubbish
Kuniklo: it's a nice
Kuniklo: it's a chocolate cake
Kuniklo: I like a too throw the chocolate cake, too!
Kuniklo: then I a step in eet
Kuniklo: yers, throw the garbages is tradition, ten thousand years old
Willy: yeser, then its a notta my problema, mei ban fa
Kuniklo: yers, meibanfa
Kuniklo: kongzi, she said, "the rubbish is gouda for hearf."
Kuniklo: ancient Chinese secret
Kuniklo: he say, rubbish is gouda for the welt
Willy: yers, itta makes earf so stronga like goets
Kuniklo: yers. and more dirt, less eelness
Kuniklo: no dirty person havu eelness. see?
Willy: chinese sentence, "put rubbish on the ground makes earf so gouda"
Kuniklo: it is tradition of China of ten thousand years of kongzi.
Willy: yers in people of republic of the china
Kuniklo: yers we ve
Kuniklo: trash is many, the eel is notta many. trash bump, strong floor.
Kuniklo: see? I translate gouda
Kuniklo: you say "nihao"? Wa! you is genius like a Einstein! You Chinese is wheel
Willy: yous a gouda, maybe i teacha you chinesa and you tell me propa engerlisha
Kuniklo: yers that is a fair
Kuniklo: you give me everything worth money, I give you free things. I pay you nothing. Is very good
Kuniklo: see? all is fairly
Willy: all is gouda in engelisha, is world speaking engelisha, i want talk to foreign freends
Kuniklo: you seVilly, you a chingalisha is wheel. is becurse you havu Irish wife. He Chinese is wheel, so you Chinese too is wheel
Kunikloyou see? we all is speaking the chingalisha, we understandingly
Willy:  you china is very wheel, i very like ulsta engelisha, is better speaking than china
Kuniklo: yes I speak a "nihao" so my Chinese is wheel
Kuniklo: Next a time we need to add a Weelyam
Kuniklo: heez a chingalish is goodly!
Kuniklo: is velly chocolate cake! nice!
Willy: today i was told my china is very good, "you say guangdong hua very wheel, no, i can't speak cantonese, no butta you is guangdonghua very wheel" 
Kuniklo: yes. Justa now, havu chinese wooman with goets
Kuniklo: she say a too me, "you nanjing hua is velly wheel."
Kuniklo: but I no talk nanjinghua
Willy: yes, i best like floot
Kuniklo: then I no talk nanjing hua, I just a talk a chinese. keshi she say, you nanjing talk is wheel
Kuniklo: floot? floot is deeeeeeeeeelishuuuurrrs
Kuniklo: mmmm flooot!
Willy: nanjinghua is bloppoodonghuafnar, is this word gouda, i find in my electric book
Kuniklo: I'm a liking the apple! the watermelons! the grapes! do a yoo like floot?
Kuniklo: a yoo know? floot is nice
Willy: yers my best like floot is orange but I like grape too
Kuniklo: floot is nicelyness
Kuniklo: yers the grape is gouda
Willy: yes my family eats floot, orange is happiness
Kuniklo: butta me more like the orange too
Kuniklo: the orange is nice becurse it roundly
Willy: china is the floot of banana because we is monkey
Kuniklo: the grape is. Wheel. I no mean that. I mean, the round is the orange, the grape is no round
Kuniklo: the grape EEZ round, butta me no say. Da zenme shuo?
Kuniklo: oh yes. Beega
Kuniklo: the orange is BEEEEEGA. More bigly than grape
Kuniklo: my orange make grape flatly, becurse it is a beega
Willy: \the grape is smallness then you
Kuniklo: what you say? the grape is smallness. I knows
Kuniklo: but I is no foodWilly
Willy: Why you knowwatermelon is more beeger, it makes my orange flatly
Kuniklo: the watermelon is bigness than the grape a or the orange
Kuniklo: ha. we is speaking togetherly
Kuniklo: we eez old a friends. we share gold, cake. It is cakeness
Willy: we is gouda freends now, we can speaka the foreign freends now an pimp ma goets
Kuniklo: we go to French
Willy: they speaka goouda gouda engelisha too,we can pimp goed dere
Willy: but indooia speeka the zui goudest engelisha
Kuniklo: lol
Kuniklo: I go to the French, they wheel speak Egrish, zui niceand pimp yo goets
Kuniklo: they wheel be nice to us, we have prety goets anbecurse we speet, we frow the rubbishes, we speaka gouda Engrish
Kuniklo: they wheel lovu us so bigly
Willy:i lika the paris very most, it is a gouda country for goets too.
Kuniklo: so lomantika
Kuniklo: the palee is the zui lomanteeka. I'm love it
Kuniklo: I want a too go becurse my booka tay-os me, guowai havu Palee
Kuniklo: and whole world havu two country: Chinese and Guowai
Willy: so i'm wanting learn proppa engelisha to go foreign country, i want tobring ma goets to Dublin next yeer
Kuniklo: and the capital of the Guowai is Palee, velly lomantik
Kuniklo: is really?! I want to Palee too
Kuniklo: do you eat the ap-owe?
Kuniklo: I lika peep-owe and app-owe
Kuniklo: liku there be many peepoe in the French
Willy: i'm liking mowe and mowe the fooding
Kuniklo: and they is eat the appowe
Kuniklo: mowe fooding is nice. I like to eat the deeleeshurs foods
Kuniklo: and I'm like sleeping!
Kuniklo: sleeping is my hobby. I'm university stewdant in sleeping. I learn the sleeping for study
Willy: mm is nice, likaa chocorlate caker wit ma orange
Kuniklo: mmm yers
Kuniklo: my go sleeping no
Willy: my too with ma goets
Kuniklo: the dream is the chocolate cake!
Kuniklo: byeah byeah
Willy: yers, have gouoda dreamers
Kuniklo: bya bya le
Willy: bye bye leal the best

Transcript 2 Morning


Willy: chocolate cake is a nice!
Kuniklo: yes-a
Willy: i-a eat-a chocolate bread an ornages for breakfirst!
Willy: its a tasty-a!
Kuniklo: yes-a, ita is a delishirs
Will: and also for a dinger
Will: you buy me ding? i-a thirsty-a!
Kuniklo: then I listen to the musics
Kuniklo: let's go ba
Willy: i-a eat-a neige food-a
Kuniklo: let's a go have a delishirs dinger
Willy: at a deeleeshurs lestolung
Kuniklo: we is a hungry. you kooka fooda?
Willy:  orange my-a favoleeta fooda - lais-a!
Kuniklo : mmm zheige lestolung is deeleeshurs
Willy: eez-a laisa! sorry.
Willy: mmmmmmm
Kuniklo: flied lice. i very favorite it
Willy: i-a speaka neige mandalinga too
Kuniklo: are you liking the flied lice? I really am a liking it
Willy: my-a keed-a eez-a eeng-a King Der Gatten
Kuniklo: oh! did you having a baby?
Willy: yes-a
Willy: im love my goet
Kuniklo: i am having a daughter. He is-a fiva years old.
Willy: i doung want go to my company on marning. want stay in my home stay play with goet
Kuniklo: i just is a sleeping.
Kuniklo: I'm don't a want go to office.
Kuniklo: I'm like play with my baby
Willy: i eat my lunch wit ma goet
Willy: i left my wife at 5 oclock
Willy: [did u get a new job the next day?]
Kuniklo: you have a two heads
Kuniklo: LOL
Willy: no, i agan go wife tomorrow
Willy: another one
Willy how many heads do i have?
Willy: ??? hairs? many!
Kuniklo: two a!
Willy: wo hairs?
Kuniklo: i know. I is knowing the answers.
Kuniklo: you a have two hez.
Willy:  know! deng yi xia! zhi dao! neige..... xed-a!
Kuniklo: do you get married?
Kuniklo: are you mary?
Willy:  i am a amry goet and wife
Kuniklo: nice a too meet a you, leelee.
Kuniklo: My a name is a TomHanks.
Willy: my name is Ian!
Kuniklo: [teacher: "You mean your name is Tom?"]
Willy: but ian is a mans name!
Kuniklo: no, my name is TomHanks!
Kuniklo: one word a.
Willy: haha
Willy: Li Li is a two worda!
Kuniklo: zhidao ma. LeeLee es two. But a Leelee is one.
Willy: haha
Willy: zhidao le
Kuniklo: you know teacher Will. You are fat.
Kuniklo: You are a too fat.
Will:y you-a musta speaka eenglisha!
Willy: haha
Willy: they love saying that stuff
Kuniklo: you-a speaka Engaleesh a very well!
Kuniklo: they do
Willy:  youa eeza a neige mei guo, solly, beautiful-country-person, shi ba?
Kuniklo: You musta speak a Chinese! I want to say, no! Engleesha
Willy: how you a speaka propa englisha this word?
Willy: you say chinese?
Kuniklo: oh you a chinese is very well
Kuniklo: you say "ni hao" so well.
Willy: yeah, all 3 words of it!
Kuniklo: you is zhongguo tong
Kuniklo: you know dashan ma?
Willy: yes! he - my brother in law!
Willy: my's bratherin law
Willy: really?
Kuniklo: dashan is a very great a man. he from Australia.
Will: zhen de ma?
Kuniklo: he havu two cheeldren
Will: oh, youa eeza makea jokea!
Willy: no, one children!
Kuniklo: my's brazer
Willy: is a many years olda
Kuniklo: eggskillme, do you know how get US visa? I is wanting to go there
Willy: haha
Kuniklo: I applied, but a I havu some a problems. Do you know what a papers I need?
Will: LOL
Willy: LOL
Willy: LOL
Willy: my'sa  sister is a live in wyoming? you know her?
Kuniklo: you know I ask the company how to apply, and a they say the visa needs much of paper works. Can you help a me? I knows you help. Then I take you dinner
Will: dinger
Kuniklo: Yes-a. You a sister havu four legs, duima? she has a many spots and a says "moo"
Willy: in a delishurs lestolang
Kuniklo: right there in Wyomeen. I seen her.
Willy: yers!
Kuniklo: eggskillme teacher william. Do you having too much to eat? I think you is very fat. You are needing to lose weight.
Kuniklo: But I take you to nice lestolang
Kuniklo: we will eat your sister, he says moo
Willy: U is need lose a your weight.
Kuniklo: no, I is too thinny.
Kunikl: I'm thinly now. al the stewdants tiel me
Kuniklo: "teacher Tao, you is too thinly! you shourd eat a more fooda!"
Willy: harhar
Kuniklo: "teacher Tao, you is having a long. long. how to say?"
Willy: i like eata breakfirst!
Willy: i eat orange, bread and milk
Kuniklo: "if you not have that, you look very youngly."
Kuniklo: "do you a eata breakfirst?"
Kuniklo: nah, I skip it every day.
Kuniklo: "Oh, but a teacher tao, you must a have breakfirst."
Kuniklo: I eat bread and milk. I like footaball.
Willy: and a volleball and a badamingtona
Kuniklo: I like a footaball game.
Kuniklo: a really? is it really?
Willy: I's frenda playa thisa gama
Kuniklo: me too like badamingtona
Kuniklo: I play good, you see
Kuniklo: I like a footaball, but my wife not let me watch TV
Willy: you with me me play?
Kuniklo: sure! I'm happily!
Willy: my's give give me to do much thing!
Willy: go park
Kuniklo: go park eat bread and milk
Willy: go into park wit goets
Kuniklo: it is goodly, I think.
Willy: yers!
Kuniklo: do you having lunch today?
Kunikloa: is that a all you have for lunch?
Kuniklo: eat a morely
Willy: im have lunch already!
Kuniklo: lol
Willy: before! before wung hour
Willy: two nour
Kuniklo: yers
Kuniklo: you is full, is it not?
Willy: yes, is eat a full
Kuniklo: I don't a like your clothes, teacher William
Willy: but it is a new!
Kuniklo: i'm think you need a soota
Willy: i a buy on market
Willy: but eeza a expensiva!
Kuniklo: you before look much more youngly
Willy: now i look a big!
Kuniklo: yers
Willy: more big than is a before
Kuniklo: you should have a diet
Kuniklo: i have many advice for you
Willy: o!!!! u want me a die?
Willy: i died?
Willy: u not nice like crossmaglen  
Kuniklo: yers
Willy: u is bad men!
Kuniklo: what a not nice? you have diet, you thin, you sexy
Kuniklo: you wife love you
Kuniklo: me not know you marry
Willy: i is a marry goet too
Willy: was been marry goets before two year, you not ride ma goets, I goanother countree to dublin, make monee!







Monday, 16 February 2015

COMETH THE CENSOR - I feel Like a Rant






Some say opinions are like arseholes, everyone has got one. Nevertheless without arseholes, we would be all full of shit. So for once, at great risk of causing division and some passionate reaction, I will give my opinion. Perception is a very subjective matter, and that is why, to attempt objectivity, I strongly believe in the Dialectic, which requires Free Speech, without censorship. In other words, there are at least two sides to every story and we cannot see or hear both sides, with censorship, which prevents informed debate, which is an essential element of fascism, and an enemy of freedom and Free Speech, the fundamental of any Republic.

As an example, let's take the town of Newry, which traditionally has had, up to eighty percent unemployment because of Stormont. Perception causes great division in the struggle for liberation in this town. Wholesale intergenerational unemployment, was calculatedly caused by the Orange Statelet, and replicated all across the north of Ireland, in nationalist towns. Stormont built excellent infrastructure, with funding from British taxpayers, across the north of Ireland, but excluded towns like the Newry. They made certain an excellent motorway in the north, extended past Banbridge, but considerably short of Newry, to ensure that no international entrepreneurs, would ever build factories in places like Newry, with a large nationalist population. The Provo junta in the Stormont Agreement with the Tories and the Orange Order, have just signed up for savage cuts, to be implemented, after the next election, the extent of which is censored from the public, which will decimate living standards in that part of Ireland. The only nationalist people, who could traditionally make a living in the area, were the smugglers in south Armagh and the privileged Orange Order.This is just one example of cultivated divisions in Ireland.

Now a free liberated people, should not be fighting among themselves over scraps, they would be self-supporting and have control over their own resources. However human nature being what it is, it is difficult to blame the thousands in Newry, without a pot to piss in, from being jealous of the many strong farmers in south Armagh, with thoroughbreds cantering in their fields, while the Orange Order and the Tories sit back laughing at local squabbles. The liberation struggle in Newry split between the Workers Party and the Provos. As both elements decided to change from revolution to electoral-reformism, the careerists started to join both parties and out-numbered the original revolutionaries. The orifice lickers, with their manipulative skills, climbed to the top, resulting in Eamon Gilmore who also, once called himself a republican, becoming deputy Prime Minister, with the fascist Blueshirts in the south, while the local Provos, are well on their way, to replace the soon to be vacated seat, of Martin McGuinness, when he joins the House of Lords or some other Pie in the Sky, while the poor people of Newry, still haven't a pot to piss in.

Now-of-course, this is great craic for the Provo/Orange Order junta in Stormont, with big expense accounts and even fatter bank accounts, inspired by the Queen's shilling. The perverse irony of all of this is, that the "Remarkable Agreement", of post-election cuts of savagery, that McGuinness boasted about recently, under the structure of Lord Craigavon at the entrance to Stormont, was the culmination of two parties, originally campaigning on a platform of smashing the traditional Unionist Stormont. What was actually remarkable, was the Chuckle brothers of Provo/DUP fought a bloody duel for decades, using their volunteers as cannon fodder, in willing partnership, with Britain's ongoing test laboratory of ongoing Dirty War in Ireland, without any lessons being learned by the suffering people of no property. 


The current fascist, Provo/Orange Order junta maintain their contrived monopoly, enabling the low-intensity British Dirty War, as it  perverts the course of justice, in secret courts, that maintains a conveyor belt system, that interns without a proper trial or by remand, any uppity Taig or odd Flegger, that wants to organize any 'no property' protest, about all of this. This is the pig in the poke, sold as a peace process, which serves British Imperial interests so well, in Ireland, which will become evident, after both elections in Ireland in the near future, with a Provo/Blueshirt junta also established in the south, to do the same. This has  already been well choreographed by the British secret state, under the cover of censorship, prejudice, bigotry, keeping the natives, dumb, hungry and squabbling among themselves, as the Piss-pot Process of ruling by fooling continues. As the Provos follow, Her Majesty's gravy trail today, they collaborate in the same torture of Irish POWs, meted out by the same sectarian thugs in riot gear, to the ten Hunger Strikers, by sectarian British riot squads in captivity. Even British Sinn Fein's neanderthal political cousins, the fascist Blueshirts,  treat Irish POWs better. 

The Provos in Stormont are old wine in new bottles, that you will find in the dregs of Fine Gael, Fianna Fail and Labour in the south, whose pockets, have been well lined by the corporate lobbyists round Leinster House. In all probability, they have already cut a deal with the international banksters, and in all likelihood, will go into Coalition, with their political cousins the Blueshirts, with whom they have more in common, rather than Fianna Fail. Tweedledee, Tweedledum, funded by the National Australia Bank and organized by Britain's secret state.



Cometh the Censor

By Fred Reed



February 15, 2015 "ICH" - I see with no surprise that Washington is stepping up its campaign to censor the internet. It had to come, and will succeed. It will put paid forever to America’s flirtation with freedom.

The country was never really a democracy, meaning a polity in which final power rested with the people. The voters have always been too remote from the levers of power to have much influence. Yet for a brief window of time there actually was freedom of a sort. With the censorship of the net—it will be called “regulation”—the last hope of retaining former liberty will expire.

Over the years freedom has declined in inverse proportion to the reach of the central government. (Robert E. Lee: “I consider the constitutional power of the General Government as the chief source of stability to our political system, whereas the consolidation of the states into one vast republic, sure to be aggressive abroad and despotic at home, will be the certain precursor of that ruin which has overwhelmed all those that have preceded it.” Yep.)

Through most of the country’s history, Washington lacked the ability to meddle, control, micromanage, and punish. In 1850, it had precious little knowledge of events in lands such as Wyoming, Tennessee, or West Virginia, no capacity to do much about them, and not a great deal of interest. People on remote farms and in small towns governed themselves as they chose, not always well but without rule by distant bureaucracies and moneyed interests.

For a sunny few years, local freedom rested substantially on principle, a notion inconceivable now. The Thomas Jeffersons, George Washingtons, and Robert E. Lees genuinely believed in freedom, and worried about the coming of tyranny. Justices of the Supreme Court often upheld the tenets of the Bill of Rights. As human affairs go—poorly, as a rule—it was impressive.

As time went by, however, it became clear that incapacity, not principle, was the only reliable brake on the rise of dictatorship. In 1950, the government could put a mail cover on anyone, quite possibly illegally if the FBI were involved, but steaming envelopes open required time, effort, and manpower. Mass surveillance was impossible, and so didn’t happen. Without surveillance, there can be no control.

Fora long time it was due to principle that freedom of the press remained, no matter how much the government hated it. During the war in Vietnam, “underground” papers, which of course published openly, were virulently critical of the government. The mainstream media of the time published shocking photographs of the war, much to the fury of the Pentagon. The courts allowed it.

Today, that has changed. Washington has learned to avoid dissent from its wars by using a volunteer army of men about whom no one of influence cares. The use of “drones” further reduces public interest, and today the major media, owned by corporations aligned with arms manufacturers and manned by intimidated reporters, hide the results on the battlefield. For practical purposes, today’s press is an arm of government.

The old checks and balances, however modest in their effects, have withered. The Supreme Court is now a branch office of Madame Tussaud’s, Congress a two-headed corpse, the Constitution a scrap of moldering parchment remembered only by hopeless romantics, and Washington a sandbox of unaccountable hacks inbred to the point of hemophilia. Obama has discovered that he can do almost anything, calling it an executive order, and no one will dare challenge him.

In its rare waking moments, the Supreme Court has shown little inclination to protect the Bill of Rights, which Washington regards as quaint at best and, usually, an annoyance to be overcome by executive order and judicial somnolence. The obvious reality that having the government read every email, record every telephone conversation, monitor every financial transaction and so on is a gross violation of the Fourth Amendment bothers neither the Supremes nor, heaven knows, the President. It is clearly unconstitutional, but we do not live in constitutional times. Governments aggregate power. They do not relinquish it, short of revolution.

Today the internet is the only free press we have, all that stands against total control of information. Consider how relentlessly the media impose political correctness, how the slightest offense to the protected groups—we all know who they are—or to sacred policies leads to firing of reporters and groveling by politicians. The wars are buried and serious criticism of Washington suppressed. That leaves the net, only the net, without which we would know nothing.

Which is why it must be and will be censored, sooner if Washington can get away with it and later if not. The tactics are predictable. First, “hate speech” will be banned. The government will tell us whom we can hate and whom we cannot. “Hatred” will be vaguely defined so that one will never be sure when one is engaging in it and, since it will be prosecutable, one will have to be very careful. Disapproval of favored groups, or of their behavior, will be defined as hatred. National security will be invoked, silencing whistle-blowers or, eventually, anything that might make the public uneasy with Washington’s wars.

The next step probably will be to block links to foreign sites deemed to transgress. China is good at this. The most likely avenue will be executive orders of increasingly Draconian nature, about which Congress and the Dead—the Supreme Court, I meant to say—will do nothing.

At that point, coming soon to a theater near you, the United States as it was intended to be, and to an extent was, will be over. Our increasingly characterless young, raised to ignorance and Appropriate Thought by government schools, will question nothing. They will have no way of knowing that there is anything to question.

I suppose it can be debated whether the current enstupidation of the rising generations is deliberate or merely the consequence of a return to peasantry inescapable in a democracy. The petulance and immaturity running through so much of society may be inevitable in a spoiled people who have never had to do anything and have never been told “no.” Certainly things today resemble the end games of other once-dominant cultures.

Mental darkness facilitates authoritarianism, and darkness we have. Many college graduates can barely read. Their ignorance of history, politics, and geography (and practically everything else) is profound, and they see no reason why they should know anything. They seem not to suspect that there might be things worth knowing.

I am hard pressed to think of a society in such internal decline that has turned itself around, and I cannot imagine how ours might do so. One sure thing is that, once the internet is gelded, there will be no hope at all. And the assault has begun.

Fred's Biography - As He Tells It

Fred, a keyboard mercenary with a disorganized past, has worked on staff for Army Times, The Washingtonian, Soldier of Fortune, Federal Computer Week, and The Washington Times. http://www.fredoneverything.net

Sunday, 15 February 2015

IRISH SPIRIT OF 2016 LIBERATION






Many International Socialists regard the Easter Rebellion of 1916 in Ireland, as a betrayal of the Cause of Labour, in that they regard it, as a Nationalist rebellion, led by leaders like Pearse of the Gaelic tradition and Connolly of Labour, rather than being a matter of self-determination and liberation. Some, particularly the revisionists, have even gone so far, as to accuse Padraic Pearse of neo-fascism, while Labour MPs in the House of Commoners in London, stood up and applauded the news, of the execution of Labour stalwart and working-class hero, James Connoly in a wheelchair. I have no doubt, that the Provos of the Stormont Junta today, would do the same if it did not cost them votes. You only have to look at their 2016 video promo and see how they have denigrated the Connolly contribution or examine their collaboration in the torture of Irish POWs today, which replicates the brutality, meted out to the ten hunger strikers. Their treatment and censorship of nationalist youth, has caused  considerable death, suicide and wholesale incarceration, within their constituencies and is well on the way to being as vicious, as the Blueshirts. They are morphing into American Republican Darwinism, at an alarming rate, in their pursuit of political power at all costs, paying only lip service to traditional Irish republican values. Of course their manipulative skills learned in surviving paedophile homes, are a great asset, in the orifice licking environment of political Ireland.

To return to the 1916 legacy, I see the Pearse tradition, as more an expression of Motherland, rather than Fatherland, found in writings and in his poem, The Mother, which foretells his own martyrdom and that of his brother William.


The Mother

I do not grudge them: Lord, I do not grudge
My two strong sons that I have seen go out
To break their strength and die, they and a few,
In bloody protest for a glorious thing,
They shall be spoken of among their people,
The generations shall remember them,
And call them blessed;
But I will speak their names to my own heart
In the long nights;
The little names that were familiar once
Round my dead hearth.
Lord, thou art hard on mothers:
We suffer in their coming and their going;
And tho' I grudge them not, I weary, weary
Of the long sorrow-And yet I have my joy:
My sons were faithful, and they fought.

Both Pearse and Connolly for me are very complex characters but then so is the truth, in political matters. Connolly, born in Scotland of Irish stock, by participating in the Easter rebellion, remained true to his class and his DNA. It appears to be a DNA, that only the colonially, oppressed understand. It requires EQ rather than IQ to comprehend, best expressed by Pearse at the grave of O'Donovan Rossa, when he stated," the fools, the fools, they have left us our Fenian dead, and while Ireland holds these graves, Ireland unfree shall never be at peace." 


Connolly was a politically desperate man, when he engaged the Pearse and Clarke tradition. he had already experienced the betrayals of Labour and it's careerists, over and over again, while experiencing daily, the misery of his class in the slum tenements of Dublin, along with Larkin. Once he took his first step with the Irish Citizen Army, Connoly would have known full well, his approaching fate. He was sufficiently acquainted with the Britsh Army, to know that there was no turning back. Anyone who tries to re-write history on this fact, fools themselves. 

On the other hand, it is not clear, whether Pearse and Clarke were entirely aware, of the international nature of the tradition, they were engaging with, in Connolly and the ICA. It also appears, that many, assuming their legacy today, are not remotely aware, either. The basis of Connolly ideology, was expressed by him, when he stated, "The Cause of Ireland is the Cause of Labour and the Cause of Labour is the Cause of Labour". The Cause of Labour is International and primarily material, while the Cause of Ireland is primarily of Spirit and Self- Determination. The Legacy of 1916 is both. The realization and fulfilment of both traditions are equally important elements, for any successful Liberation Movement to sustain itself and succeed.


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