B(w)ankers
The overfed managers of Ireland’s Central Bank have thrown their support behind massive public spending cuts, and in particular cuts in social welfare.
I have but one question to ask: Where were the bankers in 1916?
Ciaran’s Peculier [sic] Blog
A view of the world from an Irish hole
Month: October, 2009
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Order Order!! Three hundred gran and a Redbreast chaser please
There is an old Malagasy proverb which says if you’re roof is rotten don’t be surprised if you get wet when it rains.
The people of Ireland are being shown marvellous recompense for approving that shoddy document called the Lisbon treaty. All the political parties which urged a ‘yes’ vote are gathering round to protect the rotten individual who holds the office of Ceann Chomairle. The post is such a caricatured copy of the office of Speaker of the House of Commons, but at least Michael Martin did the decent thing when he found that his efforts to shield the expenses culture were unpopular.
O’Donoghue’s buddies in Destiny’s Soldiers can’t be expected to do anything but support him, but then you have John Gormless who takes a stance not unlike St Augustine “Oh Lord, make me sinless – but not yet.” Fine Gael cannot distance themselves from the “Sure ya might as well” culture which swirls around public funds/ I name it after a Fine Gael public representative here in Cavan who, when faced with a lavish display of public-funded hospitality urged his wife to join him with the words: “Ah sure ya might as well.” And then we come to the Comrade Comfies of the Labour Party. One might call them the John West socialists. Our sister isle has endured twelve years of rule by such people who are even ashamed to call themselves socialists. And let’s not forget that the member of the Dail who had the highest expenses pay-out after O’Donoghue was none other than the Labour Party’s Brendan Howlin who clocked up such a figure on his long and arduous journey from Dublin to far-off Wexford.
But let us be fair. Perhaps we are being too tough on O’Donoghue, for he is being pilloried (and may yet have to fall upon his hurley – though its unlikely) for taking sums which are chicken-shit compared to the amount taken by senior bankers and civil servants.
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Η νίκη του ΠΑΣΟΚ
Είμαι ευχαριστημένος ότι το ΠΑΣΟΚ έχει κερδίσει τη γενική εκλογή. Ειλικρινά ελπίζω ότι ο κ. Παπανδρέου κάνει την καλύτερη χρήση της εξουσιοδότησής του από ο πατέρας του
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Tragedy in Guinea
The tragic events in Conakry demonstrate how anarchic the country is, and how nearly eight months after seizing power Dadis Camara is not fully in control of the situation.
Guinea, like many similar African states, shows the truth of Mao Zedong’s belief that power comes from the barrel of a gun. When you give the power that a loaded automatic weapon confers, to illiterate or semi-literate soldiers who may have very short-term but pressing grievances over things like pay, the results can be disastrous.
No one can excuse what happened in Conakry. I am not going to seek to defend Camara, but the image that is painted of him by the western media, including the BBC, is slightly inaccurate. One recent biographical profile told how he was born in a very remote village but was lure by the bright lights (never that bright considering the omnipresent power-cuts), but far from finding riches, he encountered a different form of poverty, which he sought to allay by selling kola nuts on the street. This attempts to place him in the historical mould of pat leaders like Idi Amin and Samuel Doe, who found that they were able to grab and hold onto power, even though they were barely literate.
But there’s one big difference. Camara studied law at Conakry’s university, which may not be Oxford or Cambridge does impose certain standards – higher, it must be said, than some institutions calling themselves universities in Nigeria.
Then we hear about Camara’s quirks of personality and his short temper. This may be true, but such peculiarities are certainly better than the habits of many African leaders, such as lounging in air-conditioned luxury in antique chairs and doing no more than putting out their hands to grasp the most expensive vintage champagnes served in Baccarat goblets – all paid for by their desperately poor compatriots.
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Cavan local history gets new web presence
New CSB website
I’d like to tell all my readers about the new CSB – Cock-Suckers of Breifne – website. Naturally, it’s given over to narcissistic self-publicity on behalf of the soi-disants experts on local history, including that bad-assed cowardly scumbag The Honourable Dr B. Squirt, who appears in at least one photograph surrounded by druids. This was taken in association with a special novena held at the Ballyjamesduff pigsty in which they were praying for a miraculous increase in visitor numbers, so as to fend off the growing phalanx of calls for the pigsty’s closure as a costly white elephant.
It is so reassuring for people like The Honourable Dr Squirt that, even at a time of swingeing public spending cuts, he inhabits a nice little sinecure enabling to get paid from the public trough even in the midst of economic recession. And it’s all thanks to daddy.
Some in the pigsty have hit upon a new way of getting the punters in – a pilgrimage. The pigsty has recently been recognised by the Sacred Congregation of Wights and others doing the work of God as a site intimately associated with the life of Blessed Oliver J. Hannigan, patron of blue plumbers, haemorrhoid sufferers and general pains in the arse
Already miracles have been reported. One pilgrim from a Ballyconnell heritage group said: “For years I’ve been plagued with the piles, but since visiting Ballyjamesduff Pigsty I haven’t needed the Anusol once.“
Another prized exhibit is the original confessional in which the late Fr Brendan Smyth confessed his craven sexual obsession for young children to a former bishop. The hallowed prelate was a great idol of Dr Squirt’s, who considered him the greatest living expert on the O’Reillys, even though he was dead.
(Never having visited the site I don’t know whether I’m mentioned on it. I earnestly hope not.I’m more than happy to be thereby snubbed by that crowd of narrow-minded, bigoted, obscurantist budgie brains. Indeed I take it as a great compliment, as I thereby join other fine students of Cavan’s locl history who are now sadly deceased.
Dr Squirt doesn’t like me; as I am not and never have had aspirations of becoming, either a poodle or a prostitute his likes are of no concern to me. But given that he has never met me I wonder what’s the reason for his problem? Many people have said it’s down to his jealousy towards me. Anyone who is jealous of a partially sighted individual who spends much of his tine in a wheel chair deserves our prayers – not a job – but then he could be in no better place. Aithnionn ciarog ciarog eile.
People reading the above must be aware that it springs from my own opinions and does not aim to be in anyway factual. What’s more, there is no malice, which is more than I can say about the attitude of the pigsty’s “research officer” (!) towards me. I believe it constitutes fair comment, though there will be those who say it’s unfair comment. I reply that I consider that the only form of comment to which these people are entitled is no comment at all.
I hear he’s writing, not just one book but two. I wonder what the titles are? Maybe the semi-autobiographical All Hands on Dick, while the second might be a history of clerical child abuse in the diocese of Kilmore. Most ordinary writers have to struggle with the financial demands of daily life while they complete their work, as well as with hectoring editors, but the Honourable Dr Squirt has his nice County Council sinecure to cushion him. But after all he is such a great writer, greater than any other who has ever worked in the benighted hole of Cavan.
I know how much this will annoy Brendan and his friends, peoplke like the equally jealous yet ill-informed Barry Leddy.
