IrishBlog: The Prelates and Princes of Child Rape and Abuse

IrishBlog: The Prelates and Princes of Child Rape and Abuse

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IrishBlog: St Patrick's Legacy of Raped Irish Children

IrishBlog: St Patrick's Legacy of Raped Irish Children

BBC BRUTISH BULLSCUTTER COPERATION

Don't even give them a chance to launch their Bullscutter !

Oh, no. Brutish Bullscutter Coperation. Don't come fucking near me today. Dear Jaysus, you Kerry fucking recruits and gobshites all over the Irish media are their by-product. There are so many things I could say to express my deep mistrust and yes, anger of these new media Irish opinion makers. Their world service can be a titillating export but their rampant censorship of the restless native's replies stinks to high heaven, of arrogance, cultural imperialism and age old repression.

I don't vote right wing as far as I know, so maybe that also explains my antagonism to them. I don't believe the Brutish Bullscutter Coperation, which henceforth will be simply called the BBC, offer anything approximating legitimate alternatives for this country, indeed any country but thats their business. I disagree with their monarchy, class system of commoners, lords, inherited privilige and intolerance of diversity or alternatives.

Lest you think nationalism is blinding me, do not confuse my rants against Brutish Bullscutter with the many Scottish, English and Welsh friends I have known down through the years, most of whom are the salt of the Earth in my opinion and great people.

It goes against every fibre of my being and tradition to be rude to people but you have got to stand up for your identity these days or become a smiling zombie product of their pundits and seductive manipulating bullscutter.

Brutes are people too but we must take this tour d'arse with all of its insanity, as a relief from the bland sanitized, couldn't give a fuck mercenary BULLSCUTTER ! of our age.

St Patrick was an English Barsteward

Link to St Patrick was an English Barsteward


St Patrick was no gentleman
He came from indecent people
He built his church in Dublin Town
And on it put a steeple
His father Biggus Dikkus
His mother Incontinentia
His Aunt Victoria
His uncle was a PriKKus
The Wicklow Hills are very high
And so is the Hill of Howth sir
There’s a hill much higher still
Higher than them both sir
On the top of this high hill
St Patrick preached his sermon
Which drove the wild geese overseas
And attracted all the vermin


There’s not a mile in Eireann’s Isle
Where dirty vermin musters
There he didn't put his  third-foot
And fornicated them in clusters
The frogs went hop, afraid of knob,
Slapdash into the water
And the snakes committed suicide
To save themselves from rape and  slaughter
900.000 reptiles blue
He charmed with sweet discourses
And dined on them in Killaloe
On soups and second courses
Where lust worms crawling in the grass
Disgusted all the nation
Right down to Hell with the Holy Spell
He changed our situation

IrishBlog: Clinton Statement on Human Rights Ignores British Censorship

Link

THE WIND THAT SHAKES THE BARLEY IRELAND

I sat within a valley green

I sat me with my true love

My sad heart strove to choose between

The old love and the new love

The old for her, the new that made

Me think on Ireland dearly

While soft the wind blew down the glade

And shook the golden barley

Twas hard the woeful words to frame

To break the ties that bound us

But harder still to bear the shame

Of foreign chains around us

And so I said, "The mountain glen

I'll seek at morning early

And join the bold United Men

While soft winds shake the barley"

While sad I kissed away her tears

My fond arms 'round her flinging

The foeman's shot burst on our ears

From out the wildwood ringing

A bullet pierced my true love's side

In life's young spring so early

And on my breast in blood she died

While soft winds shook the barley

I bore her to some mountain stream

And many's the summer blossom

I placed with branches soft and green

About her gore-stained bosom

I wept and kissed her clay-cold corpse

Then rushed o'er vale and valley

My vengeance on the foe to wreak

While soft winds shook the barley

But blood for blood without remorse

I've taken at Oulart Hollow

And laid my true love's clay-cold corpse

Where I full soon may follow

As 'round her grave I wander drear

Noon, night and morning early

With breaking heart when e'er I hear

The wind that shakes the barley

The Wind That Shakes the Barley" is an Irish song written by Robert Dwyer-Joyce, an Irish poet and professor of English literature. The song was written about a young Irish rebel who sacrifices his relationship with his loved one for the 1798 rebellion of a United Ireland. Reference to barley derive from the fact that Irish rebels often carried barley oats in their pockets for eating when marching. This gave rise after the rebellion of barley growing and marking the "croppy-holes," mass unmarked graves which rebels were thrown into, it symbols the regenerative nature of Irish resistance to British rule as does the phoenix the bird that rises from the ashes..

The title of the song was borrowed for the 2006 film of the same name.

Paintings of Irish revolution and rebellion include; the wind that shakes the barley, men of the south, the birth of the Irish free state and others from Sean Keating's allergory.

The photos include; Hogans flying column in north Tipperary, the phoenix, still an unrepentant Fenian bastard, the Cairo gang od informers who were mostly assassinated and traditional wanted republican Dan Breen,

THE WIND THAT SHAKES THE BARLEY IN IRELAND

Link