Iceland’s Economy now growing faster than the U.S. and EU after arresting corrupt bankers
So Iceland decided not to follow the rest of the world by bailing out the bankers. Instead, they chose to arrest them. Now their economy is recovering faster than the EU and the United States. Hmmmm.
Remember when the United States government told the American people that immediate action was required to save the banks, and save our nation from complete collapse? An action in the form of Billions of dollars of National Debt? Yeah, we remember that! Now Trillions of dollars in National debt later, we are in the same position we were in 4 years ago, just more debt. As a matter of fact Federal Reserve Chairmen Ben Bernanke has called for yet another stimulus that will add more debt onto the mountain we already have.
At the start of the world wide 2008 economic collapse, Iceland was in worse shape than almost any other country in the world. Now they are one of the fastest growing economies in the world.
Imagine what America would be like today if we bailed out the victims of poor banking practices, while punishing the bankers who were responsible?
After watching this video tell us what you think? Was Iceland off their rocker for sending the bankers to jail, or on to something that America should have done as well?
That pat on the back to our "glorious leader Enda" in Time Magazine fails to come to terms BIG TIME with the reality on the ground here in Ireland.
Just in case you have forgotten what has happened to all of us since Enda and Eamonn got in power:
More than 400.000 thousand people on the live register.
Thousands of people migrating to Australia and Canada and many other places each month.
Cuts to the weakest groups in our society, people with special needs, carers, basically people without voice in our society because of their small numbers.
Cuts on salaries and pay freezes.
Increases in direct and indirect taxes plus introduction of HOUSEHOLD TAX and WATER Charges coming up soon.
Demolition of the Health system.
Introduction of Students fees.
Increase in suicides
Increase in alcoholism, drugs intake and homelessness.
Soup kitchens and charities are under pressure trying to cope with the vast amount of the new homeless and the poor.
I suppose now its pretty obvious why Enda is at the cover of TIME magazine!
Yes. It's because the Elite who have wanted to do all these things for ages want to reward Enda for selling out his own people so very efficiently into serfdom.
The excerpt just below is from an e-mail sent yesterday to Prime Minister Enda Kenny TD:
"Finally, I would like to remind you that -- as I tried to stress to you and your colleagues this morning -- I am very firmly convinced that my particular case represents just a very, very tiny proportion of the overall 'government corruption, crime, cover-ups, and impunity' phenomenon which I believe -- as a direct result of my own completely independent, lengthy, and ongoing investigations (since mid 1998) into such matters -- continues to run completely wild, and to be more or less totally and dangerously out of control in many important respects at the present time: from the viewpoint of humanity as a whole."
A Peter Sellers classic recording from 1958. No pop videos were made in those days but one probably wouldn't have survived from this session anyway. Black & White film from Uist and Ireland.Sellers moved to ireland for a year for tax reasons...peter sellers pink panther goons
Of all the stars that ever shone
Not one does twinkle like your pale blue eyes
Like golden corn at harvest time your hair
Sailing in my boat the wind
Gently blows and fills my sail
Your sweet-scented breath is everywhere
Daylight peeping through the curtain
Of the passing night time is your smile
And the sun in the sky is like your laugh
Come back to me my Nancy
Linger for just a little while
Since you left these shores I've known no peace
Nor joy
Chorus:
No matter where I wander I'm still haunted
by your name
The portrait of your beauty stays the same
Standing by the ocean wondering where you've
gone, if you'll return again
Where is the ring I gave to Nancy Spain
On the day in Spring when snow starts to melt
And streams to flow
With the birds I'll sing this song
Then in the while I'll wander
Down by bluebell stream where wild flowers grow
And I'll hope that lovely Nancy will return
brian boru is an old march composed by O'Carolan the blind Harpist, something around the 16th or 17 century, its about Brian Boru the last High King of Ireland, killed at the battle of Clontarf 1014, when Ireland defeated the Vikings and cleared the country of invading barbarians until the brits came a few hundred years later.
Maraiodh Brian Boru chun beatha na heireann
Siochain in gcuige Uladh agus i mbaile 'cliath
Aontacht an teaghlaigh, aontacht na dtuath
Aontacht an domhain is na gCeiltteach
D'Unbelievables are an Irish comic duo formed in late 80s by Pat Shortt and Jon Kenny in Limerick. They created characters which can be seen on every street corner and every pub in Ireland.
Their performances include; One Hell of a Video, D'Telly, D'unbelievables, D'Video,D'Collection, Films: The Closer You Get, Angela Mooney Dies Again, Saltwater, This Is My Father.
After days trapped on the sofa of his home, Patrick Murphy realised that he must sacrifice his own arm — or go insane
Speaking from his hospital bed, Mr Murphy recalled the story of horror beyond human understanding: "It began when the remote fell down the back of the big sofa bed," stuttered a one armed Mr.Murphy. "I put my hand down to retrieve it and my arm stuck in the folding mechanism. After hours of trying to free myself, It was clear that it wasn't going to work itself loose. I had to sit and wait for help to arrive."
But no one came for Mr Murphy. After two days, still no knock on the door, desperation set in. "I ran out of potato crisps after two days, and the last of the Guinness went shortly after that. And all the while the British Broadcasting Corporation kept broadcasting endless footage of socially and mentally inadequate ex-celebrities playing with themselves, with these horrible accents, in the jungle somewhere," said Mr Murphy. "After a while, the bullshit of it all began to play on my mind. I started to hallucinate. Ridiculous visions of top-quality Irish television drama danced before my eyes. Only then did I make the decision to cut off my own arm with the ring-pull from a Guinness can."
As anyone who has ever cut off their own arm can tell you, this is no easy matter, he said. Mr Murphy has cut off his arm, so he recounts the story: "At first I couldn't cut the flesh covering my arm. In fact, I needed to make it numb to stand any chance, so I clubbed my arm with a magazine until it went limp. After that, it was a simple matter of cutting through the flesh and muscles until I was free."
Finding his way to the telephone with his bleeding arm in tow, Mr Murphy dialled the ambulance and slumped on the floor. "They told me they'd definitely be round before the end of the week," recalls Murphy, "so I kept up morale by switching manually to RTE the Irish channel. I thought there'd be some documentary strand worth watching, instead of all that BBC endless loop of celebrities pulling off their faces to advertise some BBC channel package. It just went on, and on, and on...."
At this point in his sad story Mr Murphy broke down. Doctors asked the hacks and paparazzi to let the poor man get some rest. The assembled press respected his wish but not before one last question: "What was the worst moment?" A sobbing Murphy did not hesitate in his reply: "John Simpson's pompous and self-satisfied face twittering on for the 200th time about 'Freeview — or some new package of BBC channels...'."
Mr Murphy is expected to make a physical recovery. His long-term mental well-being depends largely on some decent TV schedules.
Armoured cars and tanks and guns
Came to take away our sons
But every man must stand behind
The men behind the wire
Armoured cars and tanks and guns
Came to take away our sons
But every man must stand behind
The men behind the wire
In the little streets of Belfast
In the dark of early morn
British soldiers came arunning
Breaking little homes with scorn
Hear the sobs of crying children
Dragging fathers from their beds
Watch the scene as helpless mothers
Watch the blood fall from their heads
Armoured cars and tanks and guns
Came to take away our sons
But every man must stand behind
The men behind the wire
Armoured cars and tanks and guns
Came to take away our sons
But every man must stand behind
The men behind the wire
Not for them a judge or jury
Or indeed a crime at all
Being Irish means they're guilty
So they're guilty one and all
'Round the world the truth will echo
Cromwell's men are here again
England's name again is sullied
In the eyes of honest men
Armoured cars and tanks and guns
Came to take away our sons
But every man must stand behind
The men behind the wire
Armoured cars and tanks and guns
Came to take away our sons
But every man must stand behind
The men behind the wire
Proudly march behind our banner
Proudly march behind our men
We will have them free to help us
Build a nation once again
On the people, step together
Proudly marching on our way
Never fear or never falter
Till the boys come home to stay
Armoured cars and tanks and guns
Came to take away our sons
But every man must stand behind
The men behind the wire
Armoured cars and tanks and guns
Came to take away our sons
But every man must stand behind
The men behind the wire
The Irish surgeon who cut off the penis of a man who was only booked in for circumcision is an anti-Semite, the US Jewish lobby has declared.
Dr Patrick Murphy has been arrested over accusations of negligence, malpractice and failure to possess the necessary certification for knob and rock surgery, although the bearded black helicopter brigade says the conspiracy goes far deeper than that.
"This man is an anti-Semite," stated one. "Why else would he cut off the penis of an innocent man? We may have another Joseph Mengele on our hands — who knows how many he has already prevented from procreating. He must be held in a containment facility and if necessary executed."
Despite the patient's confessed Catholicism, the event has sent a chill through America. "There is an increasing incidence of this anti-Semitic behaviour," one congressman told reporters. "This is a free and fair country and anyone that doesn't respect different races and religions can leave. Especially Muslims."
Under new laws, the US government is entitled to imprison indefinitely anyone in the world that behaves differently to how it wants them to. Already, a Chilean farmer, a sports commentator from Zambia, some rag-heads and several thousand Afghans have been subject to the laws which will protect our freedom. Dr. Murphy is most likely to be transported to a new facility being built in Texas, rather than Guantonemo, for those of alternative ideological persuasion.
Meanwhile, the memberless patient, who begged us to remain anonymous, continues to rock back and forth in front of a selection of pornography, desperately going through his kitchen cabinets every five minutes in the hope of finding something that will relieve him. The closest so far was the lemon zester.
Dr. Murphy in his defence has stated, that if something can go wrong , it will go wrong, according to Murphy's Law which is not his fault and that the partient is lucky to have his rocks on, atall atall, as he understood the man wanted a sex change.
The Maimin Cajun Band from Conamara, fronted by Sean Monaghan sings An Dreoilin, accompanied by zany slides of Ireland... There are 2 other versions of this very popular song on TG4gaeilge, with Sean himself in the video (although the sound track is best on this version). The song concerns a wren, the king of all birds, and a frequent topic in Irish folklore. This wren has some troubles with a cat.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead.
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse --
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
The loneliness of the long-distance islet
Inside the head of the world's remotest outcrop. The following is an extract of the so-called "Rockall Diary", chronicling highs and lows of life as the world's remotest islet. It includes the innermost thoughts of the North Atlantic outcrop, as well as some profound philosophical revelations which attempt to answer the question surrounding the very nature of being: What the bloody hell am I doing here?
Diary
17 July 2003: Jesus H. Christ I am so fuc*king bored. Three years since the last ship crossed my path and just the same old shit from the albatrosses giving it all that about having spent the last six months in the Pacific. Out here we have 170 different words for "grey", but trust me once you've been watching the Atlantic from horizon to horizon for millions of years, one grey looks pretty much the same as any other.
18 July: To my absolute amazement and delight, a group of men approached this morning in a 40-ft yacht, manually inflated a tiny rubber raft and attempted a landing on my near-vertical shores. After several hilarious attempts to land the silly sods gave up and returned to whatever godforsaken place they came from. Shame, I was hoping we could do lunch and catch up on some gossip which did not come from a fuc*king albatross.
19 July: Spotted a distant whisky bottle bobbing gently on the swell. Thought immediately of yesterday's visitors but on closer inspection it turned out to contain nothing more than an "SOS to the World", apparently written by someone called "Sting". Bloody awful name.
3 September: Got shat on by three thousand migrating sea birds. Enjoyed that thoroughly. Really. Better than Wash'n'Go.
7 October: Did some solid work of eroding in today's tradewinds. I used to be 3000 metres tall, you know, and I can remember when it was all fields round here. Now there's just 25 metres of me left above the relentless monotony of the Atlantic. Each passing gust of wind and each wave carries a little bit more of me into oblivion. I calculate I will only have to put up with this view for another 3.2 million years before sinking heroically beneath the waves, which cheers me up immensely.
13 November: Tried to spot one of the outer Hebrides through a light drizzle. Then remembered I haven't laid eyes on another piece of land for millennia. Thought I saw the lights of St Kilda through the darkness, which got me musing on the terrible price one must pay to live on the edge of the world. Reminded of some Vikings who sailed by around 1,000 years back, heading West. Saw them again two years later, complaining about a "New World" and its crap food and shocking levels of gun crime.
19 November: Watched a sealion start a punch-up with a pack of belligerent orca over a herring. Sometimes the struggle for survival is an uneven one. And sometimes sealions — who aren't the sharpest chisel in the mammalian toolbox at the best of times — surpass even my world-weary expectations of stupidity. While they were going at it hammer-and-tongs, the herring made good its escape, eventually taunting the whole enraged group of belligerents from a safe distance with the most appalling language. God alone knows what Darwin would have made of it all.
24 December: Spent Christmas Eve playing spot-the-illegal-oil-exploration-vessel with a drifting iceberg. I won 27 to 24. Afterwards, the majestic floating ice castle asked me if I'd like to join him on a trip to the Equator. I said no, and strongly advised him against the plan. Of course, he ignored me. Ah, the impetuousness of youth.
7 January: Getting paranoid and lonely. Miss the old days. Even that lot from Greenpeace who came and gave me a big hug a few years back. I vaguely remember the British Navy visiting once. It was less of the hugging in those days — the buggers dynamited my top off and attached plaque claiming me for "Britain". God alone knows where that might be.
19 January: I'm old and tired and I need something to see me thorugh my retirement. So, finally signed a contract giving a bunch of drunks the rights to exploit my name for humorous purposes in perpetuity. In return I'll be the centre of world attention yet again. They also asked me if I happened to have a working Content Management System lying about, whatever that is. Said no, would could a gannet do the job instead?
9 February: It's good to be back in the public eye. Of course, there's a downside: boatloads of tourists coming for a nose with their digital camcorders and whining children. Worst still, got a call from Ryanair asking if I'd like to offer a €10m "incentive" for the airline to operate low-cost flights out to the North Atlantic. Politely declined. Clouds are gathering to the West, promising rain.
Coming soon Diary: My wild, wild youth as volcanic pre-Cambrian hot-head
Rockall was yesterday gripped by polemic fever as bewildered locals struggled to make sense of the latest nominations for the foremost conceptual art prize which will see a shed, a video of someone's granny, a room full of junk and some paintings battle it out or the top spot.
"It's not about whether it's art or not, it's designed to provoke debate about the very nature of art".
"So what do you think of this year's nominations" "I hear one of 'em's a bloody painting."
"Total arse," replied Leveret. "The whole lot of it's total arse except for the arse by that Gillian Carnegie. No-one minds a nice bit of arse hanging over the mantlepiece after a long day at the EU subsidy forms."
"Can't argue with that" enthused one young man taking a moment from pumping the Hirst's Helter-Skelter fruit machine. "The western art tradition is all for plenty of arse. Nothing like a rounded rump bent over the coal-effect fire to welcome you home after a hard day at the guano workings. Proper arse, like that Rubens bloke. He had a handle on arse, make no mistake."
"Who wants to come home to a conceptual German shed over the one-bar electric fire when you can sink yourself into a proper pair of buttocks while savouring your Pot Noodle?"
Dave's analysis met with a general roar of approval from the entire establishment which immediately prompted a reproduction of Carnegie's Turner-nominated backside from the Mail on Sunday.
"Doesn't look much like a sow's arse to me," commented the local vicar, supping a well-earned sherry following a demanding day attempting to convert cockle-pickers to Christianity "in the sure hope of resurrection in the hereafter, ie, about ten minutes after high tide".
"Jesus H. Christ he's right," spluttered our frutie-playing friend. "It's a fuc*king bloke's arse."
"A fuc*king bloke's arse you say?" thundered Leveret. "And they call that fuc*king art?"
...a picture of Rockall as photographed from space by the crew of Columbia during its last mission can be seen above. The second Blessed Isle is clearly visible in this stunning photograph and has an underground connection with Ireland, about halfway between that little bumpy protrusion of continental shelf and those weird disconnected islandy bits off to the upper left of Ireland. Good to know that NASA, is doing something useful but one wishes they'd used a somewhat longer lens.
national | anti-capitalism | news report 
Friday October 05, 2012 20:42
by Costas Avramidis 
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Jump To Comment: 1 2 3"Finally, I would like to remind you that -- as I tried to stress to you and your colleagues this morning -- I am very firmly convinced that my particular case represents just a very, very tiny proportion of the overall 'government corruption, crime, cover-ups, and impunity' phenomenon which I believe -- as a direct result of my own completely independent, lengthy, and ongoing investigations (since mid 1998) into such matters -- continues to run completely wild, and to be more or less totally and dangerously out of control in many important respects at the present time: from the viewpoint of humanity as a whole."
A copy of the full text of the e-mail in question, which was sent simultaneously to (among others) a sizable international selection of senior politicians and lawyers, can be viewed at:
http://www.humanrightsireland.com/UnitedNations/5Octobe...l.htm
Related Link:
"Government corruption, crime, cover-ups, and impunity, Republic of Ireland ..."
http://tinyurl.com/93v73gw
Iceland’s Economy now growing faster than the U.S. and EU after arresting corrupt bankers:
with the link below, puts Kenny's praises in perspective.
Low lie the Fields of Gombeen Irish Politics