Thursday 29 November 2012

Irish History X, Vol. 2

In times of such great uncertainty, it helps to be able to look into the past and see how those who came before us grappled with the hand that fortune dealt them. In the rich, yet tragic history of this great Celtic land, lie great stories, which, when recounted, inspire anew. In this series, The Fair Observations looks back and tries to give a fair and balanced account of what happened before us.

Éamon de Valera


Éamon de Valera served two terms as the third president of Ireland, as well head of the government for over twenty years. For decades, despite the highly partisan climate in Irish politics, he was held in high regard by Irish people. He risked his life by fighting in the 1916 Rising, and having barely survived execution, he continued to campaign against British rule. As head of the government, he introduced further measures of independence and a constitution that guaranteed the basic liberties of all Irish citizens.  He maintained Irish neutrality in World War II, while secretly aiding the Allies. He refused any pay increase while in office.
De Valera had been subject to much criticism over his lifetime, especially over his decisions during and after the negotiations of the 1921 Anglo-Irish treaty. He had also been criticised for his cultural conservatism, his overly close ties to the Catholic Church, and the way in which he handled the economy. However, since the revelations of the 1996 film Michael Collins, the tarnish has spread over the entirety of de Valera's reputation. The film revealed how de Valera evilly sanctioned Michael Collins's assassination. Some assert that Dev even pulled the trigger himself. Before Collins was felled by a bullet to the head, witnesses heard a Limerick accent in the hilltops of Béal na Bláth utter "Take this, Michael."

Further revelations have emerged since the film, damaging his image forever:
  • De Valera was lacking in symmetrical proportions, rendering both his face and his body  aesthetically unpleasing.
  •  He never made time in his schedule to build rock-hard, shredded muscle or grow locks of leonine masculinity.
  • The endearing anecdote about a young child urinating on de Valera's lap has been revealed to be more sinister than it was previously believed to be. Prior to these revelations, people only knew of how Dev had laughed it off, saying the child had the privilege of being able to say how he weed on the president. As it transpires, De Valera was a scatophilic, urophilic paedophile, who had given the child five litres of Cidona. When the child tried to speak out about the matter years later, Dev silenced him, by defecating down his throat. (Source: some webpage.)
  • He selfishly caved into the whole mortality thing after a mere ninety-two years, and left behind his children and grandchildren, who had to mourn for him.
  • De Valera's 'The Ireland That We Dreamed Of' speech, which he delivered over the radio on St. Patrick's Day 1943, and for which he is heavily criticised, was far worse in its original draft. The original poured hateful pile over the women of Ireland, wishing them pain and servitude. RTE insisted it be tamed, and de Valera agreed, on the condition that they aid him in his quest to ensure that all women who rose to political power in Ireland would have to be namesakes of the Virgin Mary. (A guarantor of purity in women, according to Dev. The plan has largely succeeded.)
  • Having been spared execution after the 1916 Rising, de Valera was greatly disappointed to learn that the British thought him too irrelevant to execute. Determined to make his mark on politics, he held positions of political leadership until he was ninety, dominating politics for over fifty years.
  • During the 1916 Rising, De Valera acted cowardly. He supposedly succumbed to the terror of the mortal danger. Like any other human being, he shamefully felt frightened in a life threatening situation. As a school teacher, he should have possessed super-human valour, during the entirety of the sleep-deprived conflict with the greatest empire in the world. His lack of calm showed him to be of ignoble and diabolical character.
  • De Valera was a conservative traditionalist who failed to promote sexual expression, the rights of women, divorce, gay rights, and the acceptance of atheism. All at a time when liberalism was flourishing all over Europe and the US. Often referred to as 'the emancipation of liberty' or 'the second enlightenment', 1933-1959 saw the emergence of civil rights and massive social change. By 1960, no liberty was left to be granted, whether it be sexual, religious, racial, or marital. The rest of the world would have been appalled by how far Ireland was behind the Zeitgeist, but (fortunately) the word was not in vogue at the time.
  • During the 1950s, Dev ordered Dublin City Council to put powdered asbestos in the water of less well-off areas. He hoped that the piles of corpses could be used to fertilise new agricultural land in the city, and eventually ruralise the whole of Ireland. 
  • Overcome by emotions of grief, de Valera wrote an impassioned and sentimental condolence letter to the German people after the death of Adolf Hitler. Knowledge of it was suppressed for decades, and the government fooled people into believing that the Taoiseach has sent a less embarrassing message. 
  • De Valera wore glasses. Somebody had to go out of their way to manufacture him a pair of spectacles, because he was too selfish to see properly.
  • He ate food. The Earth's population increased rapidly in the twentieth century, and consuming natural resources showed a lack of foresight and global awareness.

These points are but a few of the many scandalous facts that have emerged in recent years. Young Fine Gael will undoubtedly give you more if you can stomach some smarmy, little punk throwing trendy words and ideas at you — an activity that nearly rivals the dredge that seeps out of the Sunday Independent. Regardless of your view of Irish history and Éamon de Valera, I think we can all agree on saying fuck Young Fine Gael and fuck the Sunday Independent.


Sunday 11 November 2012

Irish History X, Vol. 1


In times of such great uncertainty, it helps to be able to look into the past and see how those who came before us grappled with the hand that fortune dealt them. In the rich, yet tragic history of this great Celtic land, lie great stories, which, when recounted, inspire anew. In a new series, The Fair Observations looks back and tries to give a fair and balanced account of what happened before us.

Sinn Féin 

Sinn Féin was established in 1905 by Arthur Griffith, a celebrated Irish republican and anti-monarchist, who wished to use his party to make Ireland a co-equal partner in a dual monarch Empire with Britain. Despite his IRB ties, his opposition to socialism, and his occasional support of anti-Semites, Griffith lacked nationalist credibility, and so he veered his party towards the cause of full Irish independence.

Arthur Griffith
In 1918, Sinn Féin fielded candidates around the whole of Ireland and won the overwhelming majority of seats on the island. Citing democracy as their ally, the party claimed that they had been given a mandate for an independent Ireland, despite only winning 4.6% of the popular vote in the UK, in an election where no referendum for Irish independence had taken place. Assuming control of the whole island, Sinn Féin soon found themselves confronted by an ever-so-delightful and plummy-voiced British terror squad. After two or three years of fighting, they negotiated a treaty they utterly despised, split into two factions, and partook in a bitter civil war, which eventually saw the virtual extinction of the party.

According to a 1947 High Court ruling, the contemporaneous Sinn Féin was not the same party as that established by Arthur Griffith. Yet, the party celebrated its centenary in 2005. This has lead historians to believe that Sinn Féin became etherial and ghost-like between 1926 and 1970. In these years, it drifted across the island, partially materialising from time to time. Finally, it reified in Northern Ireland, when the Troubles began. The newly manifested party represented the IRA by refusing to take the seats they won in parliament, being banned from appearing in British and Irish media, and by denying they represented the IRA (not that they had the communicative means to do so). Members of Sinn Féin (or 'Sinn Féin IRA' in Ulster Scots) would often talk to a wall, in front of a video camera, in order to maintain the semblance of being a political party. 

Adams and McGuinness had to take extra care to ensure they were nvere photographed taking a seat. 










After successfully negotiating the Northern Ireland peace process, Sinn Féin decided to try and regain their ill-fated dominance across the whole of Ireland. In the last general election, the party more than doubled their number of seats in Dáil Éireann. They offer political change in the Republic under the leadership of Gerry Adams (who, in the spirt of dual monarchy, has led Sinn Féin for 30 years with Martin McGuinness ).1 They have found support among the working classes, those of us who like to see 'gurriers' getting a good beating, and 1916 Rising cosplay enthusiasts.

Sinn Féin means 'ourselves', but it is often translated with greater poetic eloquence, rendering this mere reflexive pronoun in more exciting forms: 'we alone', 'we stand alone', 'I'm so lonely', and 'a loan' (from Britain). The party's motto is Tiocfaidh ár lá, which translates as 'our day will come'. This has now been made redundant, as their day came quite recently, when Glasgow Celtic beat the world's best football team in the Champions League, during a season where Glasgow Rangers play in the Scottish Third Division. The following day, British prime minister David Cameron and his cabinet began plotting to re-conquer Ireland, inaugurating the dreaded 1,000 years of brutal British rule. 

I'm not saying these guys were fascists, but...



1 I'd like to thank Feichin for this idea.

Wednesday 7 November 2012

A Man of Letters

Dear Politicians,

I angrily expect you to do exactly what I want you to do. I also want it done instantly. I will hold you responsible for every mistake in society or any problems I encounter in my life, regardless of your level of culpability.
If you don't comply, I will post not particularly witty memes and pictures on the internet, ridiculing you, and perhaps going as far as comparing you to fascists. I will also complain about you in private circles, without any great effort to make a fair evaluation of your performance.

Yours sincerely,

Person who has never held a position of responsibility in their entire life



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Dear Religious People,

I demand that you forsake your religious beliefs immediately. I have decided that they are false, and I refuse to accept that anyone would hold such beliefs. As a religious person, you are obliged to question and doubt your worldview, and just tolerate the fact that I will never do the same.
If you refuse to comply and just change your beliefs, I will take every opportunity to ridicule you among other internet residents who share my views. I will demand rationality all the time and assume I possess it, yet I will post irrational arguments and pictures on social networking sites. I will embrace any person or quote that agrees with my point of view, regardless of its logic or accuracy. I will refer to Jesus Christ as a zombie, even though that is clearly not what Christians believe. I will make fun of people and be incredulous when other people consider me intolerant. I will expect my aggression and intolerance to magically produce tolerance and peace.

You have been warned.

Person who rallies against fundamentalism yet often acts like a fundamentalist



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Dear Nigel,

I want you to stop writing blog articles that are laced with hypocrisy. You must accept that sabre-rattling on the internet is an indulgence you must afford other people, as you frequently do it yourself.
Nobody reads your stuff anyway, as infrequent as it is.

Kindest of regards,

Nigel Fairflower