Friday, 7 November 2014


"Beneath this thin veneer of civility lurks a savage. You scratch my skin and draw blood, I will inevitably retaliate." Quote - Christy Higgins

Since I was forced as a young boy, to pour water over, what appeared to my child's eyes as my mother's dead body, lying on a concrete floor, in the west of Ireland, I internalized my anger to the point of where it became frozen rage. After I discovered the extent of the problem, both personally and in Irish society, after I put down the drink and went to associate recovery groups in the Jellinek Clinic in the Netherlands, I started to slowly, deal with my many anger issues in my relationships with other people. I learned that I was as sick as my secrets and in order to recover, my internalized rage needed fresh air or as some would say the Sunlight of the Spirit. It still does and perhaps this has something to do with motivation for this blog.

Anyway, after I returned to Ireland, many years before the child abuse issue, went mainstream, I re-acquainted myself with my bad ass friend Christy, and had to share with him, what I was learning and that it appeared to me, to be an endemic problem in Ireland, that bothered me greatly. Now both for Christy's sake and my own, I have to be fair and mention, that in our own cases, it did not extend to any sexual abuse. In fact one of the reasons I was attracted to Christy's guidance, is that I witnessed a very happy home. Anyway I shared with Christy my disturbed feelings, about the extent of it and how uncomfortable it made me feel, in that I was picking up this rage vibe everywhere I went from people around me in Ireland.

Christy as usual, explained to me in his usual down to earth way, the realities of what he saw around him. If you ever visit the very beautiful Achill Island in County Mayo, off the west coast of Ireland, you will find rows and rows of old stone houses, falling into disrepair, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, some of which, date back to pre-holocaust days in Ireland and before the mass exodus that emptied our land. There is considerable debate about the extent of this matter, with many realistic claims, that the numbers of Irish lives lost, being on an even greater scale than the Jewish holocaust.

You will also notice if you visit, how tiny most of these homes are and if you are familiar with the history of obstructed birth control in Ireland, you will learn, that quite regularly, an Irish family often extended up to 20 persons. Christy simply asked me, what I thought frequently happened, with whole families sleeping up on top of each other, in such small one roomed abodes, particularly if you factor in, the regular Irish diet of the time, that included vast quantities of poitin, otherwise known as the untaxed, "peoples whisky"or what the old Celtic Irish monks called "uisce beatha," meaning when translated, 'water of life', which is currently at a premium in Ireland, thanks to what Gerry Adams refers to as, our great and glorious leader from Mayo, "Sliabheen" or Mountain man. Yes, we may have a beautiful land, but few visitors, are aware of the cruelty that lies just under surface of its veneer or real history and even fewer still, of the native Irish, talk about it, under pain of death or at a minimum, forced emigration. 'Don't let the side down' is Ireland's greatest enabler of Child Rape.

My father, as a teenage boy, broke rocks with a lump hammer, from the dawn of day until sunset, to help put bacon on the table of the large family he came from. He was paid something paltry by the horse and cart load. He battered rocks, until his own heart became as hard as the rocks themselves. He joined the fascist blueshirts, which were Ireland's equivalent of Hitler and Mussolini, from other Roman Catholic cultures in Europe. It killed any bit of nature that was in the man. My mother's family on the other hand, took wounded Irish rebels across the river Shannon in Meelick, to try to recover. She was a strong minded woman, the equal of any man, in any rural field of Ireland, at that time. She was not of a submissive nature. Hence the war zone within the four walls of my childhood home. 

She was of a time before women's liberation, that after sufficient batterings and with males being the sole adjudicators of power in the Ireland of that time, i.e. the local sergeant, the local doctor, in fact all of the local bureaucracy,with the exception of the midwife, she was eventually locked up with nervous breakdowns, treated with crude electric shock treatment, incorrectly medicated, to the point, that a lot of the local patriarchal society, deemed her mad, as many today would term myself her son, for having the audacity to write  publicly about all of this. She recovered some of her sanity eventually, paradoxically through religion, I prefer a more pagan form of Spirituality myself.

Now at this point I have to be very careful and sparing with my words, in order to to be fair to other people. I too, like my father had to emigrate to the great metropolis of London, for several complex reasons, such as the material, escape from such an emotionally incestious culture, along with my developing alcoholism. I had spent most of my childhood, doing a man's work on the farm, which some would term as being a muck savage, working a spade for a lot of it. After working in London, digging holes under the supervision of other Irish muck savage, 'ganger men,' I eventually found a job under an English one, who was a decent enough man. Unlike my previous supervisors, when it rained, he called us in out of the rain and treated us fairly. However we almost came to blows one day, when he told me, that I didn't know how to work a spade properly. I had worked with one all of my childhood life,"How phuking dare he say such a thing!"

However for once, putting reason before reaction and thinking about pay day, I watched him demonstrate, how to let the actual spade, do most of the work. I had to admit, that he was correct. I learned an important lesson that day, primarily not to let prejudice, close my mind. Anyway during this time, I was further politicized by the deaths of two Irish republican hunger strikers, Michael Gaughan and Frank Stagg in British Gaols in England. It was a reactionary instinctual matter, along with the jailing of several other innocent Irish, such as Gerry Conlon and further experiences, around a relationship, with my first wife from Occupied Ireland, in London, that I eventually, reluctantly volunteered, for the first time, to join the IRA. With the wisdom of hindsight, it was a reactionary form of political motivation for me personally, that I now realize, was not pro-active or progressive, as it sometimes is with other Irish republicans. I will make many enemies with that statement but then I have already made many enemies with my own written experiences of my truth, particularly with the British Secret Services.

Anyway, we eventually wound up back in Newry and tried to rear five children, in an Irish town with more than 80% unemployment, that was calculatedly gerrymandered and politically engineered. Such an environment, from my own experiences in such places, brings out both the best and the worst in many people. I became a political activist and again witnessed the deaths of 10 more Irish hunger strikers. The best way I can describe this experience is, that it was traumatizing. I used to go at the end of my day, to a local pub with Irish music, to try to chill out. My family as a result of my time consuming activity and drinking, suffered from paternal neglect and poverty, which my wife mostly managed on her own. The matter climaxed one day, when Eamon Gilmore, the owner of the local supermarket at that time and with a background in the Official Republican Movement, otherwise known as the Stickies, arrived at my door. Yes the same Eamon Gilmore who later became an Irish Labour Party politician and in the Government of Ireland, held the offices of Tánaiste ( deputy Prime Minster) and Minister for Foreign Affairs and Trade, from March 2011 until July 2014. He was also to become the Leader of the Labour Party from September 2007 to July 2014.

Anyway the bould Eamon stood at my door asserting, in a very plausible manner, that my two oldest sons, who would have been respectively aged 7 and 5 at that time, had cashed two social security checks, stolen from the letter boxes of various neighbours. I was dumbfounded and incredulous but he persisted. While he was of opposing political views to me in many respects I could see no good reason, why he was not being truthful and I told him, I would deal with the matter. Now after growing up in my own childhood home, I tried as best I could, to ensure that such things were not to be repeated in my own home. In fact when I was 16 I made a solemn vow to myself, that one day I would grow up and my home would be very different. Anyway I closed the door and while suffering from a hangover, I proceed to interrogate my two young sons, in the most civilized way that I could. They persisted to deny Mr. Gilmore's claims.

I persisted as patiently as I could under the circumstance, to interrogate them, until at length I lost my patience and ordered them, to lower their pants and I proceeded to use my belt to chastise them, until they were red. They still refused to admit guilt. After reflection that day, I decided I was a failure as a father and made the decision, that it was best for everyone, to leave. It was heart breaking but I used drink as my medicine. I might add, that leading up to that time, I had many visits, which I still regard as spurious, from British Social Services, regarding child neglect. Thirty years later I still don't know the truth of the matter but I might add, that I had many neighbours who were politically aligned with that party.  Please forgive me if I include at this point, my usual glimpse of sanity.

Paradoxically today, my best friend, is an unashamed English capitalist, with Cornish blood in his veins and a socialist heart. We argue a lot. After many years, I have come to the conclusion that the English are a very clever people. At one stage in the south of England, I was a salesman, knocking on tens of thousands of doors in the south of England for several years. I can honestly say that at the height of the Irish troubles being brought to London, I was always treated with courtesy and respect, with just the one exception. The Industrial revolution happened in England, before it happened in the rest of the world. I believe it gave them an edge in the modern world. Previously unlike Ireland they learned and applied much, from their conquest by the Roman Empire. They applied it so successfully, that they conquered and ruled the seven seas. As I previously mentioned, the sun never set on the British Empire because God couldn't trust an Englishman in the dark. The best summation I have heard of their Empire ruled by the City of London, is that they are a nation of Pirates. It still however begs the question, of how such a relatively small island, can still pull the strings in a Commonwealth, that extends to the other side of their world.

Ancient sociology, dating as far back as ancient Egypt, of which I am mostly ignorant, primarily through their art, records the common existence of various deviances, such as sex with children and animals as it still is legal is several countries to this day. I first came across this peronally, working as an activist for several years managing an Advice Centre in British Occupied Ireland. I initially could not comprehend it. Years later, in the course of trying to pass on my recovery to newcomers, some people came and confided in me with regard to this matter. They seemed otherwise, to be very sincere and gentle people. Again reluctantly I had to inform them, that I had no specific experience of these matters and from what I learned from others, I therfore was in no position to help them. I had to let them go and point them in the direction of people where they might get help. 

Recently Pitcairn, the remote Pacific island that was settled by mutineers from the British Royal Navy ship Bounty in 1789, became a focus of attention, when most of its men were put on trial on child sexual abuse offences and now has, its first female mayor. Britain sent jailers to the remote Pitcairn Island. From my own personal experience in Occupied Ireland, I believe this example, holds the key to how Britannia Rules the Waves but then who am I to judge. I simply want the children of the Island of my birth liberated, where they can get a genuine education about these critical facts of life and evolution. Where they can grow up, to be women and men free from sexual, mental and material slavery.

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