The ‘yes’ campaign in Cavan town are obviously getting desperate, as Fianna Fail have decided at this eleventh-and- a-half hour to canvass for a yes vote. There is something quaint that the lady who called to my unanswered door was once a committed Fine Gael activist, so much so that my late mother would have described as “blue to her drawers”. I chose not to answer the door and engage the hapless woman in debate, as I felt it would have been so unfair. (She probably thinks that Van Gent en Loos is a dirty movie.) I can’t help feel the irony of the situation, though. Here is Fianna Fail stating that a vote for Lisbon mk 2 is a vote for Europe but relying on people who, God love them, have trouble enough with their first language, whereas here am I, the ungrateful Eurosceptic who has a working knowledge of over a dozen EU languages, one of which, Bulgarian, he had occasion to use today.

 At least last year I was canvassed in person by Minister for Agriculture Brendan Smith. One of our dogs barked quite loudly at him, an action I interpreted as “She’s obviously voting no Brendan”. What a difference a year makes, as Brendan would be scared shitless to show his face around the doors today – unless accompanied by a phalanx of gardai.

Last reasons to vote no

One of the greatest reasons for defeating Lisbon Mark 2 is that it might, just might, remind our political rulers that we still live in a democracy. That literary fable Bunnreacht na hEirinn – the constitution – makes the people sovereign in our state. So how is it that the wishes of the people of Ireland carry so little weight anymore? The present government seems to be the hostages of a small, unrepresentative clique of far right-wing economists and Department of Finance mandarins who want to use the excuse of the economic crisis to push through socially regressive policies. A yes vote would convince the politico-bureaucratic elite that it could successfully hoodwink the people and continue to feed voraciously at the public trough.

I can hear some of those on the yes side clamouring “What about Europe?” Well, exactly, “What about Europe?” This referendum, just like the one last year, had very little to do with Europe. The self-styled “pro European” politicians don’t giver a damn about Europe. They’ve only ever seen it as a source of wealth for themselves, their families and their friends, as well as a good location for official trips at which they can stuff themselves with Tournedos Rossini with spuds and drink themselves silly, while indulging in activities far from the prying eyes of their partners.

Lisbon Mk 2 is a fraud, a three-card confidence trick that has nothing to do with true European values. A vote against it is NOT a vote against Europe. Perhaps it is a vote against a false Europe based on greed and inequality. – a Europe with which I don’t want to have anything to do.

When I started writing I mentioned Beethoven. The Europe of Lisbon Mk 2, of Fianna Fail, their erstwhile blueshirt allies and the ”Comrade Cumfies” of the Irish Labour Party is a Europe which would still consign a genius like Beethoven to the social and economic sidelines, because he was deaf and because he wasn’t related to any politicians at European, national or local level.  Such a Europe does not deserve to suborn his setting of Schiller as its anthem. Rather it should use an old song of Hank Williams – Your cheatin’ heart.

I am obviously such an ungrateful brat, considering how much the country has benefited from EU money. But let’s have a look at how this EU money has been spent, and who has benefited.

 For a start, as with everything, some have benefited more than others. In terms of sectors, Ireland’s farmers have definitely gained handsomely, in spite of the farming sector declining as a proportion of the population. This has been because the farmers have been, from the dawn of Ireland’s EU membership, exceptionally well organised as a pressure group. But in spite of this EU largesse, I would be so bold as to say that rural society in Ireland is on its knees. Post offices, shops and other essential features of infrastructure have been removed. Many areas of our countryside are threatened by insensitive and ghastly housing developments or the construction of bypasses. Many farms are still uneconomical, heavily dependant on a range of handouts. This was recognised by the decision of Agriculture Minister Brendan Smith to allocate a mass of funds for farmers on the eve of the referendum, thereby attempting to buy their votes. And like the recipients of generosity farmers are such bitter critics of welfare benefits.

 Our fishermen never benefited to the same extent, so that fishing has become almost a marginal activity. There are no votes in fishing, so politicians have ignored it.

 So EU largesse in Ireland is a fine example of injustice, not always going to the sectors that need it or deserve it, but to the school-boy bullies who are best able to grab it.

 The distribution of structural funds has often been deliberately channelled through social and political elites, who have used control to buttress their positions at the expense of the greater public,

 In Co. Cavan, some EU money has gone to pig producers, who ploughed it into increased production. This resulted was an increase in porcine effluent, much of which was poured into waterways including the River Erne. The EU then gave money to Fermanagh County Council and others north of the border to clean up the resulting pollution, a lovely example of north-south co-operation in action.

 The spending of structural funds, disbursed under various labels like Phare and Leader is an excellent example of how EU funds have stayed in the hands of the existing elites. Whenever a new “tranche” of funding is announced for disadvantaged areas, such as those along the border with Northern Ireland, proposals are sought and public meetings organised to work these out,. The meetings usually come up with some very good and sound ideas. A second meeting, to “firm up” the proposals is then arranged. This is attended by “the boys”, members of the local political and economic elite who have their fingers in every pie; the ones who never have any trouble getting planning permission or any type of grant. (Viewers of Killnascully will remember Willy Power.) They muscle their way onto the committee and push out anyone who is not a client or relative. Their dominance is explained because they are the ones who ”know how to get the money.” This is sadly too correct, ordinary members of the public might very well make very well structured and valid proposals for funding but they won’t get a cent, whereas “the boys!” know who owes them favours.

 One of the ideas to be put forward for Leader funding in the Cavan Monaghan area was the production of an illustrated guide-book of heritage tours. One of the members of the committee, sadly deceased, thought that I was the best person to undertake its writing and to supervise its production, because of my experience as a historian and writer. This post would be accompanied by a handsome salary. When my name was proposed at a meeting I had to sit through one of the most unpleasant episodes in my life, as nearly everyone there, including those who didn’t know me from Adam, proceeded to state just how unsuitable I was. The lead was taken by a loud-mouth from Belfast who managed a refuge for battered artists. Amongst his claims was that he doubted I could produce a website – admittedly not something that would have been considered a necessary component in the skills’ set for the job, but he was really discomfited when I told him of my experience with HTML. But everyone else took the lead from him.. One man left the room rather than participate in the circus  Many of those who remained were Leader clients, people who had received or who expected to receive Leader funding. They were expected to behave towards me in a certain way – if they knew what side their bread was buttered on. I looked beseechingly at those there, as if to say “Is there none here who will speak on my behalf?” Then finally the coup-de-grace was delivered by one of those charged with the disbursement of the funds. He announced that the job must go to a “driver – someone able to get around”. He knew full well that, though I could, in those days get round very well, I could never drive. At this I stood up, saying “I never knew you were looking for a chauffeur” and left the meeting.  I do not wish to name the figure who said this. Suffice it to say that he had a not very star=studded career as a Gaelic Football player. When my late mother later challenged him about what he had said, he retreated to the tower of cowardice of all mushroom-men, threatening to bring a legal action against her. As for the book, well they gave the job to a “driver” with no experience of the area who was able to get around so well that he went up every boreen in the two counties and expected the Leader funds to pay his expenses, which they did. However,, this virtually emptied the funds set aside for the book which was nowhere near finished – in fact, it hadn’t been begun. So guess who was then approached to finish it once the Duchy was dry?  Yep, muggings here. I wrote out the trails with accurate mileage and kilometre indications, and they were then followed on the ground before publication. Nobody could believe just how accurate they were; but that just went to show that you didn’t have to be a driver to write the trails. But where did all the money go? Leaving aside the production costs, there wasn’t much left for me, and while “the driver” got his wages and expenses, he was fully entitled to them, We can only say that it went up the cook’s arse.

 To be continued

Green party ministers John Gormless and Aimin Low have stated that they weren’t informed of the huge hush fund proposed for jet-setter, first-class flyer and retiring FARCE boss Roddy Molloy before it was announced by their cabinet colleagues.

There is an old principle in the Common Law, much praised by the seventeenth-century jurist Selden, called ignoratio legis hauc excusat – ignorance of the law is no excuse. So what our green-by-politics green-by-nature ministers are trying to plead is ignorance of the crime, I don’t think that will carry much weight. Another defence that they might run is duress. “Had we objected we’d be annihilated. They’re bigger than us – we were a human shield – they made us do it, honest.” If they pull out of government and the Feel ‘n Fallers don’t throw in their miserable lot with their political soul-mates the blueshirts, the Greens face into a general election from which few of them might emerge. Even the most optimistic Green now accepts that opinion poll findings of Green party support are low enough to be categorised as a statistical margin of error. What’s more, most of those people who say they are going to vote Green next time are doing so for a bet.

What a bunch of petty, miserable people comprise our government. There’s another suitable adjective – dysfunctional.

So the Green ministers knew nothing, something that can’t be said about Roddy Molloy.

Hardly a day goes by without the exposure of breath-taking amounts of waste in the Public Service. Recently we learned how FAS spent 600,000 euro on a television advertisement that was never screened, as well as paying huge sums for services that were never delivered.  But I think that this goes beyond simple waste. Waste is something children do, or those with lower levels of educational achievement. In other words waste is what poor, stupid people who don’t know any better. Although I may question the vaunted intellectual pretensions of senior civil servants and managers in the parastatal sector, they are far from stupid: they know what they’re doing.

I am saying that much of what goes under the rubric of waste is actually peculation, larceny and fraud on a grand scale by public officials. These people should be charged and imprisoned, not allowed to retire with expensive golden handshakes. But there is little hope of that. Were charges to be brought against them, the people who would sit in judgement i.e. senior judges would be cut from the same social cloth. They might very well be classmates from the same schools, maybe related by marriage even, and po0ssibly members of the same golf clubs.  (The law is full of fictions, including the notion that justice is blind. For that to happen the judges have to be blind too.)

There is no true ethos of public service in Ireland. Those working there are taught to see the public as the enemy. One of the worst insults you can pay a public servant is to call him or her just that – a public servant. They bristle with anger “Me? A servant? And of that dark, smelly enemy the public? Nay, nay and thrice nay – or rather the equivalent in Irish.

We may pride ourselves in having a public service that is not manifestly corrupt, as say somewhere like Italy or Kenya. Bribers don’t feature at the lower levels at least. But who is to say what goes on further up? And are we to define bribery and corruption solely in terms of the handover of cash?  Then there is the internal bribery, where certain departments and individuals are rewarded for “playing ball” or putting the telescope to their blind eye, by bonuses or greater access to resources.

So many of our public servants and representatives have cruelly perverted John F. Kennedy’s famous challenge “Ask not what your country can do for you but what you can do for your country?” into “How can I do my country – and get away with it?”

Why I’m voting no, part 1

 I don’t think anyone can accuse me of being a Euro-sceptic. I have a knowledge of over a dozen European languages,; my father fought to liberate Europe from the curse of Nazism and my heart misses a beat whenever I hear the bass intone those magical words “Frunde!” at the beginning of Beethoven’s setting of Schiller’s Ode to Joy. I have always been committed to the true European ideal of openness, culture, decency, justice and openness. Sadly, this vision has long ago been sold out to a mean version of Europe based on greed and bureaucratic megalomania, a Europe of the always-haves versus the never-haves, a Europe of a few winners but many losers.  For me Europe is a Mahler-like Symphony of a Thousand, not an exemplar of grey, unanimous plainsong.

 As I I’ve stated my father fought to clear Europe of Nazism, suffering imprisonment as a POW Yet when I look around me it’s as if the Nazis are back in control, especially here in Ireland – not surprisingly since many of our academics and senior civil servants’ ancestors were keen partisans of General O’Duffy. There is a jaw-dropping lack of democracy which is more becoming a fascist dictatorship. At the same time there is cynical recourse to electoral vaudevilles such as referenda to give the acts of the elite some thin democratic veneer.

 In last year’s referendum I didn’t vote at all. This was not an act of laziness because I “couldn’t be arsed” to vote. I was truly caught between two not very attractive stools. On the one hand there were many voices in the “no” camp whom I thought frankly unattractive, including the usual pot-pourri of cranks, racists and “pro-life” nuts, many of whom dreamed of a nice clerico-fascist Ireland lying somewhere in the Atlantic halfway between Franco’s Spain and Governor Wallace’s Alabama. But then there were the “yea sayers”. They wanted me and others to give our support to a bad treaty which no one understood, and which was deliberately drafted in an obtuse style to defy common comprehension.

 One year on. Lisbon Mark 2 is still an incomprehensible document, making a camcorder-operating manual appear like child’s play. The only real different between the versions is that Ireland is guaranteed a commissioner. This is very important for those members of our political superstructure who are interested in jobs – jobs for themselves and their family members. The post of commissioner is a valuable political gift to the head of any government, especially one who wants to reward someone for their loyalty or rid himself of an uncomfortable rival.  The commissioner also has a suite of hangers-… oops I mean officials, many drawn from the ranks of their own family or the families of prominent party members. Few have much knowledge of European culture or languages, and quite a few have come up through the ranks of the party branches in our universities.

 I still fell grave misgivings about some on the No side of the debate, though my attitude towards some has mellowed, particularly vis-à-vis Mr Declan Ganley. He used to mystify me. Here was a man who had done business in Albania – and survived. Why should he have to account for every cent of his wealth just because he dares to speak out against the politico-bureaucratic consensus?

 But I’m turning my back on the individual personalities and motivations of those on the “no” side. That’s their business, and there is nobody on the ‘no’ side who comes anywhere near the moral emptiness of the rotten, cowardly, deceitful conmen and women on the Yes side.

 To be continued…

Minister for health and obesity Mary Hernia has warned that the coming year will see even greater cuts in health spending. These will of course, translate into even poorer services in the health sector but will help to usher in a new dawn not only for the health service but for Ireland generally.

 While few if any hospitals will be closed they will be downsized radically in the interests of efficiency. As a consequence they may have to shed most if not all of their medical functions. They will thus be staffed entirely by HSE administrative staff. There won’t be visiting hours because, hopefully, there won’t be any patients to visit.

Minister Hernia has said that the Irish people now realise that the biggest problem facing the health services is sick people. “They get sick at awkward times, and expect to be cared for at the tax payer’s expense.” The minister added, “As a country we face some tough decisions and this government will not shite away from taking them.” Giving examples of the type of decisions she means the minister outlined the savings in not giving costly medical care to old people,cripples, the unemployed and the work shy, who should be left to die. ”Yes it’s tough, but it’s the type of decision we must take if we are ever to get back to economic good health.”

 A study undertaken by some of Ireland’s best-paid economists had found more over than many people who think they’re sick aren’t really sick at all.

 Welcoming the increase in emigration figures the minister said that emigration of Irish healthcare workers was good news as it showed Ireland’s generosity as a nation. These were men and women who had been trained at Ireland’s expense, but instead of selfishly expecting them to work here and treat our sick people we were donating them to the wider world.

 A new scheme to replace expensive medical personnel takes a leaf out of the book of China. Hundreds of “barefoot” doctors are to be appointed throughout Ireland. These will be people on FAS community employment schemes who will receive a week-long crash course in medical essentials but who will not require any pay in addition to their weekly welfare benefits. The minister was particularly delighted with this scheme as it showed the power of “joined-up” government, though she quick not to take credit for the idea herself. “Actually it was Brian’s”. More advanced medical help, if needed, is to be provided by volunteers from Medecins Sans Frontieres.

 These measures will lead not only to a leaner, healthier health service but also to a leaner, healthier Ireland, populated by a super-race of athletic Irish men and women paying little of their hard-earned cash in taxes. “It’s a win-win situation which definitely brings us much closer to Buchenwald than Berlin.”

There’s husbandry in heaven -
Their candles are all out..

I want to tell you a story; let me assure you that every word of it is true, no matter how fantastic it may appear.

 Recently Rosie and myself have had a couple staying with us who have been attempting to liberate their son from care, into which he was delivered on the flimsiest of reasons. One of the couple established a website in which he attempted to publicise their plight and that of other families in similar situations.

 Last Thursday, Ms Helen McGovern, solicitor for the Health Service Executive, succeeded in extracting a High Court injunction against the website. The manner in which this injunction was subsequently delivered beggars belief in a free society. At approximately 1.30 am on the following morning all of the residents of the house were awoken by the arrival of Ms McGovern, accompanied by no less than four gardai. Ms McGovern obviously does her best work after dark, but I cannot for the life of me see why they had to be served at such an ungodly hour. I also fail to see why she had to be accompanied by such a large force of police. Did they believe that the couple were going to “make a run for it”? or that they would be offered physical resistance? One of the garda squad cars had come all the way from Navan with Ms McGovern. Most people know that sadly, Co. Meath is awash with illegal drugs. The gardai respond as well as they can, though they are often hampered by insufficient resources. On the morning of Friday, September 18^th, their ability to fight not only the drugs problem but crime in general was severely hampered by allocating one squad car with two gardai to accompany Ms McGovern’s nocturnal frolic. The forces assigned for this visit were equivalent to those for a raid, yet this group presented the unedifying spectacle of skulking  through the blackened Cavan countryside asking for directions. Obviously the Gartda Siochana haven’t heard of GPS yet.

 Luckily I wasn’t in residence at Putiaghan Upper that night. I would have been terrified to be disturbed by the headlights of police cars. The whole thing would have reminded me too much of a scene from Alan Parker’s film Mississippi Burning. Both Rosie and myself are law-abiding people, without so much as a parking ticket to our names, so to be treated in this shameful manner by the police is intolerable. My first reaction upon hearing the front door being knocked in the middle of the night would have been to seek the protection of the gardai by telephone. Imagine how I would have felt on learning that those who were disturbing my peace, those who were frightening me, were the very people towards whom I looked for protection, I feel that my customary civility towards the Civic Guards would have been stretched to breaking point.

 On the following evening, at approximately 10.30 pm our peace was again disturbed by a Process Server delivering additional court documents. Why can documents only be delivered at night? The Process Server, who seemed genuinely embarrassed, explained that the late hour was caused by the delay in preparing the documents. This preparation had been so rushed that they hadn’t been filled in properly or signed.

 The serving of the papers at such an unorthodox manner on the morning of the 18th, accompanied by such a large contingent of police, was a clear and deliberate attempt to intimidate the couple and my partner Rosie. Ms McGovern’s visit was no act of charity; she will indeed seek and no doubt receive handsome payment of expenses for her after hours’ exertions by the HSE. How can the HSE don the poor mouth, citing lack of money when cutting back vital and essential services, but yet they have money to burn on such non-vital expenses? Is it not true that at a time when we are told we must swallow “tough” decisions regarding public spending, which will cause genuine hardship, our public servants and those whom they employ can waste as much money as they can?

 I wish to stress that everything I have said above is factually correct. When (or if) Ms McGovern reads it I am sure she will be enraged, and as a well-connected member of the judiciary she will possibly seek to gag me by undertaking legal action against me. She may labour under the mistaken belief that I can be frightened into silence, as was her intention in visiting our house at such an inappropriate hour. But if the truth hurts don’t blame me. Furthermore I believe all the comments made to be fair in the circumstances. The above statements are not motivated by malice, but by a desire to expose abusive behaviour by the executive, including an abuse of judicial process, I am also conscious that in writing the above I have not made myself many friends amongst those who seek to dominate our lives. Let me remind everyone that we still live in a free society – just.  Amongst the freedoms we take for granted are not just freedom of speech, but the freedom to enjoy an undisturbed night’s sleep.

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Isn’t it brill? the news that Cavan town has been selected from a shortlist of holes to host the 2010 version of Fleadh Cheoil na hEirinn. Cavan’s tourism interests will have their cocks through hoops at the prospect, as dypsomaniacs from throughout the world are attracted here like flies to sh … etc. Tourism interests elsewhere will be heartened by the exodus of Cavan town’s few decent people whow will want to escape the veritable tsunami of stale stout, vomit and spilled spunk which will cascade through Cavan’s sreets.

One-time minister for Defence James McDaid has recently emerged from rehab to make some statements which will hopefully persuade taoiseach Brian Cowan to offer him a ministry. He has expressed his undying loyalty to the government, Fianna Fail and Mr Cowan. At the same time he has called for a general election to “clear the air”. Thus armed by the people’s mandate Fianna Fail would be empowered to undertake “tough” decisions to promote economic well-being. The people he hopes (he dreams) would be conned into accepting bitter economic medicine because “the other crowd” i.e. the blueshirts, will have to implement the same policies. In other words according to Jimmy, an election would not involve the people exercising their choice to benefit themselves. No. The choice would be between voting for Fianna Fail and getting fucked up the arse on the one hand, and voting Fine Gael and getting fucked up the arse on the other. The result would be the same: the people would get fucked up the arse. The only difference would be the colour of the prick. So the people are supposed to just say “Fuck me till I fart”.

These arguments are, to be kind, weak and banal, but are hardly surprising. Dr McDaid could well be described as the Amy Whitehouse of Irish politics. Here is a man who was caught speeding the wrong way up the road while under the influence of a sizable amount of drink, consumed at a nearby race meeting. Dr McDaid is a man who threw up his wife of many decades, the woman who had put up with his boozing and sequential womanising, in favour of a coterie of much younger bimbos..

Like many Ffers he talks about the need for “tough” decisions. Cutting the money paid to old age pensioners is not a tough decision. It is rather the height of cowardice. If the government really wanted to make tough decisions they could start by taking criminal action against the senior management of FAS for their waste of 48 million euro. But come on Ciaran, don’t be naïve. Take action against the likes of Mary Harney’s husband? I think not.

But I suppose Dr McDaid thinks he knows all about cowards. That’s what he called people who take their own life. 

He is right, but only to a certain extent. I believe that a Fine Gael government, or one in which the Fine Gael party formed a part, would pursue such cowardly policies with even great vigour. Why wouldn’t they? They are their policies after all, ones of which Ernest Blythe, Eoin O’Duffy and John Kelly would have been proud. It is rather sickening then to see a member of the Fianna Fail party support such policies, as if they are the only economic show in town. Making the poor suffer for the squanderings of the rich should not play any role in the policies of a party that pays even lip-service to being republican, and we all know how much Jimmy McDaid likes to court the republican vote in Donegal North-East, even to the extent of “just happening” to be outside the court when IRA men were released.

But I suppose that was a tough decision on his part.