The saying goes that “you can never con a con”, and as Irishmen, we should remain aware that as a nation, we’re particularly talented at selling idealised portrayals of things by manipulating context and substance (if not outright deleting material facts), the great heroes of myth like Cuchulainn, and of known history such as Brian Boru, were men whose faults you can be guaranteed the bards glossed over – perhaps it’s because of our history, that men could scarce continue on without rationalising and recasting failures such as Wolfe Tone’s rebellion as romantic, heroic actions, elevating “our fenian dead” to a level of sanctity rarely seen among other European nations – still, the point stands, we’re a nation of storytellers perpetuating an idealistic bardic tradition spanning millennia.
Nowhere is this more readily apparent than in the Irish left’s paint stripping cocktail of conflicting sentiments of nationalism and internationalism, Marxism and bourgeois decadences such as homosexuality, transgenderism etc. Only in Ireland could you find a person who celebrates the Easter rising, yet rejects all the proto-fascist (or at least undeniably Catholic Traditionalist and Romantic) beliefs of most, if not all of the signatories, who reviles ethno-nationalism and whose breast swells with pride at the thought of the Irish Citizen army as “Europe’s first true red army”. They will however, nod sagely at Connolly’s statement that;
“If you remove the English army tomorrow and hoist the green flag over Dublin Castle, unless you set about the organization of the Socialist Republic your efforts would be in vain. England would still rule you. She would rule you through her capitalists, through her landlords, through her financiers, through the whole array of commercial and individualist institutions she has planted in this country and watered with the tears of our mothers and the blood of our martyrs.”1
And yet, they will grin like a ram’s skull on Slibh Mor at the thought of hoisting a yellow or EU flag over every school.
While rejecting a portrayal of capitalism which is in itself warped to shift the blame from international financiers, and onto the straight, white (God forbid Catholic) males, of that same breed whose blood soaked the streets of Dublin that very Easter week, these same “social revolutionaries’” sole argument in favour of multiculturalism and rootless cosmopolitanism is “muh ethnic food”. One can imagine few things more bourgeois than importing animated flesh to wait on a person hand and foot while serving them the finest delicacies of their homelands prepared to their gluten/wheat/eggs/nuts/dairy/goji berry-intolerant specifications, “more figs your eminence?”.
That being said, the Irish people are a people deeply imbued with a sense of continuity and history (outside Dublin at least), and as a result, we receive such beautiful works as Kim Haughton’s “portrait of a changing century”, a project in which 100 people were photographed, in order of their date of birth, to mark the impending centenary of the foundation of the state (2021), however quaint as this sounds, her choices of who best represent our dearly beloved bogland, speak volumes;
Eunice Adeleye was born in Ireland to Nigerian parents in 2007, and as a result, she is now Irish, you dirt munching, pint-swilling, blight-fearing Fenian peasant.
Born 1922, Máire Mhac an-tSaoi was a committed feminist and FIRST WOMAN to be called to the bar in Ireland, sadly, not the last.
Born 1945, Susan Gageby Denham the current Chief Justice of Ireland, is the FIRST WOMAN to serve in the role. She has been instrumental in (((modernising))) the judiciary in Ireland [of coursh].
Born 1959, Paul McGrath (Mr. Ombuljungaweyo from down the roads young fella), carries the distinction of being Ireland’s FIRST BLACK FOOTBALL CAPTAIN (but, don’t worry, not the last).
Born 1968, Rory O’Neill is a huge disappointment to his family and nation, having contracted HIV in 1995 and not died as of 2017. This profoundly ill man, it bears mentioning, I first saw during RTE’s coverage of the fag marriage celebrations, standing alongside Gerry Adams, take from that what you will.
Born 1977, Sean Og O’hailpin is a half Fijian man who was beaten into playing hurling (literally) by his father, a lovely man by all accounts, unfortunately he works as a banker, so screw him.
Like most military women, this is someone paid to wear pants and look convincing
Carpet-muncher yank dubbed “Ireland’s gay sweetheart” (which implies lady Eire’s a lesbian by the way) who won a beauty competition now slated for trannies, non-whites and the tentacled denizens of the slag pits of Kronos in the Andromeda galaxy if they’re so inclined to turn up, just so long as they’re not an actual Rose of an Irishwoman.
This poor Nun of the Sisters of Mercy has been horribly mutilated following an acid attack by a crazed Colm O’Gorman, after he discovered foetuses were buried in disused sceptic tanks, instead of incinerated in sterile containers, her agent says she now makes a living doing Malala impressions.
Now unless you’ve had acid thrown at you yourself, you’ve noticed an agenda here, one which strikes at the very heart of our identity and integrity as a distinct people, “artists” and intelligentsia alike seek to use our sense of continuity against us, by setting these figures into a wider narrative, they seek to begin a process of canonisation which resonates with the Irish psyche, to short circuit our reverence for those who came before, to satisfy that wish of ours that we won “the moral victory”, if nothing else. By embedding “New Irish”, worthless, infertile excuses for women, the mentally ill and perverted within the Irish heroic tradition, and as a consequence, within our collective worldview and subconscious, they short-circuit our sense of continuity and heritage to fit into their internationalist Bolshevik agenda. Yet, as they say, you can never con a con, as alluring as it may be to buy into their narratives, we know we’re being lied to.
In Haughton’s own words; “With the younger people, their backgrounds are very diverse…It got very less white”, and as I’m sure all of you will be gratified to know, an exhibition of all of these photos will be available when completed in the (((Solomon))) gallery, Dublin.
I’ll just leave this graph here…
1 Shan Van Vocht (socialist newspaper) January, 1897. Reprinted in P. Beresford Ellis (ed.), “James Connolly – Selected Writings”, p. 124.