A land of beauty, of poetry, of warm smiles and even warmer welcomes. But beneath this idyllic facade, a rot has set in.A cancer of corruption eats away at the heart of our nation. The very people entrusted to safeguard our future, our elected officials, have betrayed us.They line their pockets while our hospitals crumble. Our elderly shiver in homes they can no longer afford to heat.
This is not the Ireland we know.
This is not the Ireland we deserve.
This is not the Ireland our martyrs died for.
A Nation Betrayed
The Price of Corruption
Billions, gone. Vanished into the pockets of greedy developers while families struggled to put food on the table. Billions wasted, squandered on vanity projects and botched schemes.Meanwhile, our Health Service buckles under the strain.The price of this corruption? It’s measured in lives lost. In dreams shattered. In the erosion of our trust, our very faith in this nation.Faces of Broken Trust. Think of our old, living alone. Think of the young, desperate to start a family, crushed by the weight of an impossible housing market, rigged by greedy developers and corrupt officials.These are the human faces of corruption. The forgotten victims. They deserve better. We deserve better.
Time to act now
Enough is enough. The time for talk is over. We need action. We need accountability. It's time to tear down this rotten edifice of greed and cronyism.Let us reclaim our Ireland. Let us build a future worthy of our children.
A future free from the stench of corruption. A future where trust, not greed, guides our path.
Mr Lowry's State pension and personal assets are estimated to be worth a massive €6.4m.
The second wealthiest TD is Kerry TD Michael Healy-Rae, with an estimated value of €5.4m
His brother Danny Healy-Rae's assets are valued at €1.6m, bringing their combined estimated family wealth to €7m.
Richard Bruton, with a €4.9m estimated value, is the highest ranked member of Cabinet.
Sean Haughey is estimated to be worth €4.8m but this does not include his share in the €9m will recently left by his mother Maureen.
Former Taoiseach Enda Kenny is fifth wealthiest TD with an estimated value of €4.7m.
Fine Gael is by far the richest political party with all 50 TDs having a combined wealth of €80m.
Fianna Fail's 44 TDs are worth almost €70m, while Sinn Fein's 23 members of the Dail are worth an estimated €12m.
Of the 75 TDs estimated to be worth €1m, just 11 are female politicians.
Former Tanaiste and Minister for Justice Frances Fitzgerald is the first female on the list in 18th place. She is worth €3m based on the value of her pension in private market.
Labour Party leader Brendan Howlin is the richest party leader with an estimated value of just under €4m.
Mr Howlin is closely followed by Fianna Fail leader Micheal Martin with a value of almost €3m.
Sometimes, the weight of obedience can overshadow the pursuit of what is just. In the face of authority, many have found themselves at a crossroads, where following orders means compromising on their own sense of right and wrong.It's a struggle that has shaped the very fabric of our society, leaving us to wonder—when is it time to stand up,
Branding as Far Right
In recent times, there's been a troubling trend of labelling dissenters as far-right.This branding can be a powerful tool to silence opposition and stifle debate.It's a tactic that can marginalize voices, creating an environment where fear of being labeled can overshadow the need for open dialogue.We must ask ourselves, are we losing the essence of free speech in the process?
Driving the Irish into the Ground
The resilience of the Irish people has been tested time and again.From economic hardships to political strife, it often feels like the weight of the world is pressing down.even in the face of adversity, there's an unyielding spirit that refuses to be broken.It's a testament to the enduring strength and determination that defines the Irish identity.one has to wonder, how much more can we endure before we rise and reclaim our place?
In Our Own Land
in our own land, we find the roots of our strength.The soil beneath our feet holds the stories of our ancestors,each blade of grass whispers their resilience.It's here, in this sacred ground, that we remember who we are and where we come from.Forgetting That We Are Seeds.But, it's in these moments of darkness that we must remember our true nature.Just as seeds are buried to grow, so too must we endure to thrive.We face hardships and challenges, and it feels like the end.
Stronger We Will Grow
And stronger we will grow.Through each trial and tribulation, we emerge more resilient, more united.Our spirit, unyielding, pushes us to rise again and again.For in the heart of every Irish soul lies an unbreakable will,a testament to our enduring legacy.
We Need to Rise Up
there comes a time when we need to rise up. It’s not just about us, but about the future we want to build. The struggles we face today are the stepping stones for tomorrow’s triumphs.
For Our Children's Sake
for our children's sake, we must persevere. Every hardship we endure, every challenge we overcome, it’s all for them. They deserve a country where dreams are possible, and hope is a reality.
Minority in Their Own Land
Imagine, for a moment, being a minority in your own land. It's a feeling of displacement, of being overshadowed in the very place you call home. The struggles are real, and the resilience is tested every day.
Why are there not more people talking about the future of Ireland?Now is our moment.Ireland, our home, our heart. We've a proud history of resilience and unity.But today, we're facing new challenges.Our towns and cities are changing, been taken over and many feel their voices aren't being heard.Elected representatives, they serve, but they don't truly represent us?IPAS centres and hotels, are full of unvetted.. Our young families and future generations deserve better.Let's find solutions that put Irish citizens first.Imagine if every Irish son and daughter had a place to call their own.A home where they can grow, thrive, and contribute to our beautiful country.It's time to unite, Ireland.Let's ensure our legacy is one of prosperity, inclusion, and hope.Stand together, for a future we can all be proud of.Because when Ireland stands together, nothing can break us.Remember, the future of Ireland is in our hands.Let's make it one for the history books.
The Troubles in Northern Ireland- Internment. It’s the late 1960s and early 1970s. Northern Ireland is a powder keg of sectarian tension.Loyalist paramilitary groups like the UVF, have been sowing chaos since 1966.The Brit Army hit the streets in August 1969.Meanwhile, The IRA, was undergoing a split. The Provisional IRA launched a campaign against the Brits, while the Official IRA took a defensive stance.Enter Brian Faulkner, the Prime Minister of Northern Ireland.On August 5, 1971, he pitches a idea to British Prime Minister Edward Heath- reintroduce internment.The goal? To weaken the IRA and prevent a loyalist backlash. The British cabinet had a few balancing actions in mind, like arresting loyalist militants and banning parades.But Faulkner wasn’t having it. He argued there was no significant loyalist threat and a parade ban was unworkable.Eventually, they settled on a six-month parade ban, but no loyalist internment.On August 9, 1971, the internment operation kicked off.The list, drawn up by the RUC and MI5, had 450 names. They rounded up 350 of them.Key figures were tipped off, and the list included civil rights leaders like Ivan Barr and Michael Farrell.Now, despite loyalist paramilitary attacks against Catholics and nationalists, no loyalists were interned.Historian Tim Pat Coogan noted that organizations like the UVF and the Shankill Defence Association were left untouched.Faulkner resisted British pressure to include loyalists, calling it political cosmetics.To make matters worse, the British government orchestrated internment using the five techniques of interrogation, which critics labelled as torture.It sparked more violence, with at least 12 people killed in the initial days—including a priest..Riots erupted, and Catholic communities erected barricades.Internment lasted until 1975, with over 1,900 people interned.In retrospect, internment aggravated an already volatile situation.It serves as a stark reminder of the policies of the Brits against the catholic people in northern Ireland. And a blind eye by the Brit and free state media..
The Aos Sí are an important part of Irish myths and legends.They are powerful beings who live in a hidden world.Long ago, the Aos Sí were actually gods.They were known as the Tuatha Dé Danann, which means People of the Goddess Danu.The Tuatha Dé Danann were skilled in magic and fought many battles. They were brave and powerful warriors.But the Tuatha Dé Danann were eventually defeated.They had to make a deal with the new rulers of Ireland.They agreed to go underground.They would live in the hills and mounds of Ireland.
Dwellers of the Fairy Mounds
These hills and mounds became known as fairy forts or fairy mounds.They are entrances to the Other world, the magical realm of the Aos Sí. The Aos Sí can travel between our world and theirs through these portals. The Otherworld is a place of wonder and enchantment. Time moves differently there.A day in the Otherworld could be a year in our world. The Aos Sí rule this magical realm.They are very protective of their home and their magic.The Aos Sí do not like to be disturbed.They prefer to remain hidden from human eyes.
From Fair Folk to Fearsome Creatures
The Aos Sícan look like anything they want. Sometimes, they appear as beautiful men and women.They might wear fine clothes and have long, flowing hair. They are often seen with musical instruments, playing enchanting tunes.But the Aos Sí can also be scary.They might appear as strange creatures.Some have the bodies of humans but the heads of animals.Others might be small and grotesque, with sharp claws and teeth.They can be mischievous and play tricks on humans.Sometimes, these tricks are harmless.But the Aos Sí can also be dangerous if they are disrespected.
Respect, Offerings, and Avoiding their Wrath
Living with the Aos Sí - Respect, Offerings, and Avoiding their Wrath.The Aos Síare close to nature.They are said to protect the plants and animals.Irish people have always been careful not to anger the Aos Sí.They know that the Aos Sí are powerful and can bring good or bad luck.Farmers are particularly careful not to disturb fairy forts.They believe the Aos Sí might curse their crops or animals.People often leave offerings for the Aos Sí .This is a way to show respect and ask for their protection.Common offerings include food, drink, and trinkets.People are also careful not to boast or be rude.They know that the Aos Sí are always listening and watching.
Keeping the Stories Alive
The Enduring Magic- Keeping the Stories Alive.Even today, many people in Ireland believe in the Aos Sí.Stories about them have been passed down for generations.These stories are a way to explain the unknown and celebrate the magic of the natural world.They remind us that there are still mysteries in the world.Maybe, if we are lucky, we might catch a glimpse of the Aos Sí ourselves.Next time you are in the countryside, leave a small offering near a fairy fort.You never know, the Aos Sí might be watching!
The late eighteen seventies witnessed a period of profound agricultural distress in Ireland.A series of disastrous harvests, coupled with falling crop prices, plunged rural communities into poverty and despair.The potato blight, which had ravaged the island in the eighteen forties, cast a long shadow over this new crisis.Irish farmers, heavily reliant on potato cultivation, faced ruin as their crops failed year after year.This agricultural depression had far-reaching consequences for Irish society.Tenant farmers, already burdened by high rents and insecure land tenure, found themselves unable to meet their obligations.Evictions became increasingly common, forcing families from their homes and into destitution.Resentment against landlords, often perceived as indifferent to the plight of their tenants, grew steadily.The land, a source of both livelihood and cultural identity for generations of Irish families, became a focal point for agrarian unrest.This period of economic hardship coincided with a growing sense of Irish national consciousness.The Fenian movement, had gained traction in the aftermath of the American Civil War.Although the Fenians' attempts at armed rebellion proved unsuccessful, their message of self-determination resonated deeply with a population weary of British rule.The agricultural depression of the late eighteen seventies created fertile ground for the growth of Irish nationalism.The economic grievances of the rural poor, combined with a burgeoning sense of national identity, laid the foundation for a powerful political movement that would challenge the very fabric of British rule in Ireland."
he Rise of the Irish Nationalist Party
Amidst the turmoil of the agricultural depression,a new leader emerged to champion the cause of Irish self-governance- Charles Stewart Parnell.A Protestant landlord from a wealthy background, Parnell was an unlikely champion for the impoverished Catholic peasantry.Yet, he possessed a keen political acumen and a deep understanding of the grievances that fueled Irish nationalism.Parnell recognized the potential of harnessing agrarian discontent to advance the cause of Home Rule, a form of limited self-governance within the United Kingdom.He joined the Home Rule League in eighteen seventy-five and quickly rose through its ranks, becoming its president in eighteen eighty.Parnell's leadership injected new energy into the movement, transforming it from a loose coalition of reformers into a disciplined political force.Under Parnell's guidance, the Irish Parliamentary Party, as it became known, adopted a strategy of obstructionism in the British House of Commons.Irish MPs, under Parnell's command, used parliamentary procedures to disrupt legislative business and draw attention to Irish grievances.This tactic, though controversial, proved remarkably effective in raising the profile of the Home Rule movement and forcing the British government to take notice.Parnell's leadership extended beyond the halls of Westminster.He recognized the importance of mobilizing popular support for Home Rule in Ireland itself.He forged alliances with the Land League, a powerful organization agitating for land reform,and encouraged Irish tenant farmers to resist evictions and challenge the authority of landlords.
Irish Nationalism Enters British Politics
The rise of the Irish Parliamentary Party under Parnell's leadership marked a turning point in the relationship between Ireland and Britain.For the first time, Irish nationalism had a powerful voice in the heart of the British political system.The party's success in winning parliamentary seats, particularly in constituencies with large Catholic populations, gave them significant leverage in the House of Commons.The Irish Party's presence in Westminster forced British politicians to confront the issue of Home Rule head-on.Previously, Irish demands for self-governance had been largely ignored or dismissed as the ramblings of a radical fringe.Now, with Parnell and his followers holding the balance of power in Parliament, Home Rule could no longer be ignored.Parnell's strategy of obstructionism, while infuriating his political opponents, proved remarkably effective in keeping the Irish question at the forefront of British politics.The Irish Party's ability to disrupt parliamentary business and force lengthy debates on Irish issues ensured that Home Rule remained a constant source of tension and debate.The Irish Party's presence in Westminster also had a profound impact on the development of Irish nationalism itself.By engaging in the British political system, Parnell and his followers demonstrated that Irish grievances could no longer be ignored or dismissed.Their success in winning concessions from the British government, albeit limited, fueled hopes that Home Rule could be achieved through peaceful, constitutional means."
The story of the Irish slave trade is a harrowing journey through the depths of human cruelty.It is a tale often overshadowed by the larger narrative of the transatlantic slave trade,yet it stands as a chilling testament to the brutality of colonialism and religious persecution.The seeds of this dark chapter were sown in the aftermath of the Battle of Kinsale in sixteen oh one.The defeat of the Irish and their Spanish allies marked a turning point in Irish history,solidifying English control over the island and ushering in an era of ruthless oppression.Thousands of Irish soldiers, captured in the wake of the battle, became the first victims of this burgeoning trade.Deemed enemies of the Crown and heretics by the Protestant English, these prisoners of war were stripped of their rights and shipped across the Atlantic.Their destination- the fledgling colonies of the New World, where they would toil as slaves in the fields of tobacco, sugar, and cotton.The year sixteen twelve witnessed a grim milestone- the first recorded sale of Irish slaves to a settlement on the banks of the Amazon River.This event marked the beginning of a systematic trade in human beings that would see hundreds of thousands of Irish men, women, and children forcibly transported from their homeland.Driven by a toxic mix of economic greed and religious animosity, English merchants and landowners viewed the Irish as a readily available and exploitable source of labour.These early Irish slaves faced unimaginable hardships in the New World.Treated with unspeakable cruelty, they were subjected to backbreaking labour, starvation, and disease.Their lives were considered expendable, their deaths a mere inconvenience to their captors.The Catholic faith of the Irish further served to exacerbate their suffering.Viewed with contempt by the Protestant English, Irish slaves were denied basic human rights and subjected to relentless religious persecution.The early decades of the seventeenth century saw the Irish slave trade evolve from a trickle to a steady stream of human misery.As English colonialism expanded across the Caribbean and North America, so too did the demand for cheap and disposable labour.
Escalating the Trade in Human Misery
The middle of the seventeenth century witnessed a dramatic escalation in the Irish slave trade, driven by the ruthless policies of Oliver Cromwell.Cromwell's invasion of Ireland in sixteen forty-nine unleashed a wave of terror and brutality that left an indelible scar on the Irish psyche.Driven by a fervent Puritan zeal and a deep-seated hatred for Catholicism, Cromwell sought to crush Irish resistance and establish English Protestant dominance over the island.His methods were nothing short of genocidal.Cromwell's troops laid waste to the Irish countryside, massacring civilians and driving countless families from their homes.The aftermath of Cromwell's conquest saw the systematic dispossession of the Irish Catholic landowning class.Under the infamous Act of Settlement of sixteen fifty-two, vast tracts of land were confiscated from Irish Catholics and granted to English soldiers and adventurers.This act of legalised theft had a devastating impact on Irish society, reducing many to a state of utter destitution.The Irish slave trade flourished in this climate of violence and displacement.Cromwell saw the forced transportation of the Irish as a convenient solution to the Irish problem.Thousands of Irish men, women and children were rounded up and shipped across the Atlantic, destined for a life of servitude in the colonies.The West Indies, with its insatiable appetite for sugar, became a prime destination for these unfortunate souls.In sixteen fifty-two, Cromwell ordered the transportation of twelve thousand Irish prisoners to Barbados, where they were sold into slavery on the island's sugar plantations.This marked a turning point in the Irish slave trade, transforming it from a sporadic practice into a well-organised and highly profitable enterprise.The plight of these Irish slaves was particularly grim.Forced to endure appalling living and working conditions, they were subjected to unimaginable cruelty at the hands of their masters.
The Plight of the Irish Slave
The question of whether Irish slaves were treated as chattel slaves or indentured servants is a complex and often debated one.While some historians argue that Irish servitude differed from the chattel slavery experienced by Africans, evidence suggests that the reality was far more nuanced and often indistinguishable.Indentured servitude, a system prevalent in the English colonies, involved a contract between a servant and a master.The servant agreed to work for a set period, typically four to seven years, in exchange for passage to the colonies and, upon completion of their term, freedom dues such as land or money.However, in the case of the Irish, these contracts were often little more than a cruel charade.Many Irish men and women were tricked or coerced into signing indentures, only to find themselves trapped in a system that offered little hope of freedom.Furthermore, the legal status of Irish Catholics as enemies of the Crown meant they were often denied the basic protections afforded to other indentured servants.Irish slaves were bought and sold as property, their lives and labour controlled entirely by their masters.They were subjected to brutal punishments, denied access to education, and prohibited from marrying or raising families without their master's consent.The line between indentured servitude and chattel slavery, for the Irish, was often blurred beyond recognition.The sexual exploitation of Irish women and girls further highlights the horrors they faced.Irish women were often seen as commodities to be bought, sold, and abused by their masters.The practice of breeding Irish women with African slaves, in an attempt to produce lighter-skinned and therefore more desirable slaves, is a particularly abhorrent example of this exploitation.This practice not only underscores the dehumanisation of Irish women but also reveals the complex interplay of race, class, and power within the slave societies of the New World.
Comparing Irish and African Slavery
The Price of Humanity- Comparing Irish and African Slavery.The Irish and African slave trades, while distinct in their origins and evolution, were undeniably intertwined.Both systems were rooted in the brutal realities of colonialism, driven by economic greed and fuelled by racial and religious prejudice.However, there were key differences in the ways these systems operated and the experiences of those enslaved.One significant difference lay in the cost of slaves.Irish slaves were generally cheaper to purchase than their African counterparts.This was due in part to their availability; the mass displacement and dispossession of the Irish under Cromwell's regime created a large pool of readily exploitable labour.Furthermore, the prevailing anti-Catholic sentiment among the English Protestant elite meant that Irish slaves were viewed as less than human, their lives valued little more than livestock.This difference in price had profound implications for the treatment of slaves.Some historians argue that African slaves, being a more expensive investment, were treated marginally better than Irish slaves.However, this assertion is highly debatable and often ignores the horrific brutality inflicted upon both groups.The reality is that all slaves, regardless of their origin or cost, were subjected to unimaginable cruelty.The duration of servitude also differed between Irish and African slaves.While African slavery was designed as a permanent and hereditary institution, Irish servitude, at least in theory, offered the possibility of eventual freedom.However, as previously discussed, this freedom was often illusory, with many Irish slaves dying from overwork, disease, or at the hands of their masters long before they could even hope to taste liberty.The comparison between Irish and African slavery is not intended to diminish the unique suffering endured by Africans.Each group experienced the horrors of slavery in their own way, and their stories deserve to be told and remembered.The Enduring Impact of the Irish Slave TradeA Legacy of Sorrow- The Enduring Impact of the Irish Slave Trade.The Irish slave trade, though officially abolished in eighteen thirty-nine, cast a long shadow over Irish history and its relationship with the wider world.The trauma of this experience left an indelible mark on the Irish psyche, shaping national identity and fuelling resentment towards England for centuries.The legacy of the Irish slave trade is complex and multifaceted.It is a story of exploitation and resilience, of suffering and survival.It is a reminder of the horrors that can be inflicted when greed, prejudice, and indifference are allowed to flourish unchecked.It is imperative that we acknowledge and learn from the mistakes of the past, lest we repeat them.The Irish slave trade, though often overlooked, is an integral part of the global story of slavery.It is a story that deserves to be told, And remembered...
Ever feel like you're stuck in a hamster wheel of taxes?You work hard, earn money, and boom—the taxman takes a cut.But it doesn't stop there, does it?You spend that hard-earned cash, and guess what? Taxed again!It's enough to make anyone wonder, Is this a system or a scam?
Taxed From the Get-Go
Let's start with the obvious—income tax.Every time that paycheque lands in your account,the government takes its share before you even see it.Whether you're a high-flying executive or just starting out,a chunk of your earnings goes straight to funding public services. Sounds fair, right?Well, hold on, because it's about to get more complicated.
Spending? Taxed Again!
Here's the kicker Remember that money you earned, the one that you already got taxed on?.Well, when you spend it, you're hit with more taxes.Buying a new phone? Tax man, says hello.Fuelling the car? duty wants a piece of the action.It's like the government is saying, We got you on the way in, we're gonna get you on the way out!
Owning Up to More Taxes.Think you're safe once you've actually bought something? Think again!Owning certain assets, like your house or even your car,you guessed it - more taxes.Council tax, road tax, the list goes on.It's enough to make you want to live in a cardboard box and ride a donkey. Though knowing the ass holes they would find a way to tax you.
Breaking the Tax Cycle
So, what's the solution?We need to rethink the entire system.Instead of taxing every single transaction, how about we explore fairer alternatives?Maybe a progressive consumption tax, where you're taxed based on what you spend, not just what you earn?Or perhaps we focus on closing loopholes for corporations and the ultra-wealthy who seem to avoid paying their fair share. Look at Apple they wont even take the money of them.Whatever the answer, one thing's for sure- something needs to change.The current tax system feels like a never-ending game of Monopoly where the house always wins, and frankly, we're all tired of losing.
“Everyone, Republican or otherwise has their own particular part to play. No part is too great or too small, no one is too old or too young to do something.”
Bobby Sands on hunger strike in 1981
Fucked over by "we ourselves"
Our martyrs died for what
To make millionaire's of the tractor slibhins who come
Ireland in nineteen twenty was a nation teetering on the brink.The Irish War of Independence, a brutal guerrilla conflict, raged between the Irish Republican Army and British forces.The IRA, fighting for complete independence, employed guerrilla tactics against the better-equipped British Army.The British government, determined to maintain control over Ireland, deployed various forces to quell the rebellion.Among them were the black and tans, a ruthless paramilitary police force notorious for its brutality against Irish civilians.The Auxiliary Division, composed of former British Army officers, also gained a reputation for ruthlessness.Tensions escalated throughout nineteen twenty.The IRA, led by Michael Collins' intelligence network, targeted British intelligence operatives.The British responded with harsh reprisals, further inflaming the situation.This cycle of violence set the stage for a day that would forever be etched in Irish history-Bloody Sunday.
November twenty-first, nineteen twenty, dawned like any other Sunday in Dublin.However, beneath the surface of normalcy, a carefully planned operation was about to unfold.Michael Collins, the IRA's Director of Intelligence, had devised a daring plan to cripple British intelligence operations in Ireland.Collins' Squad, a unit of IRA volunteers, received orders to assassinate key figures within the British intelligence network.These targets, ranging from high-ranking officers to informants, represented a direct threat to the IRA's operations and the broader independence movement.In the early hours of that fateful Sunday, the Squad fanned out across Dublin, targeting individuals in their homes and lodgings.The operation, carried out with efficiency, sent shock-waves through the British administration in Ireland.
As news of the assassinations spread,a palpable tension gripped Dublin.Unaware of the morning's events, thousands of people flocked to Croke Park, the home of Gaelic games, Dublin were scheduled to play Tipperary in a one-off challenge match the proceeds of which were in aid of the Republican Prisoners Dependants Fund.The atmosphere was festive, a brief respite from the ongoing conflict.Shortly after three in the afternoon, a convoy of British forces, including members of the Auxiliary Division and Black and Tans, arrived outside Croke Park.Whether acting on direct orders or driven by a thirst for revenge, the armed forces stormed into the stadium.Chaos erupted as gunfire ripped through the air.Panicked spectators scrambled for cover, the festive atmosphere transforming into a scene of terror.When the shooting finally stopped, fourteen innocent Irish people lay dead, including players and spectators. Dozens more were wounded.
Ireland in nineteen twenty was a nation teetering on the brink.The Irish War of Independence, a brutal guerrilla conflict, raged between the Irish Republican Army and British forces.The IRA, fighting for complete independence, employed guerrilla tactics against the better-equipped British Army.The British government, determined to maintain control over Ireland, deployed various forces to quell the rebellion.Among them were the black and tans, a ruthless paramilitary police force notorious for its brutality against Irish civilians.The Auxiliary Division, composed of former British Army officers, also gained a reputation for ruthlessness.Tensions escalated throughout nineteen twenty.The IRA, led by Michael Collins' intelligence network, targeted British intelligence operatives.The British responded with harsh reprisals, further inflaming the situation.This cycle of violence set the stage for a day that would forever be etched in Irish history-Bloody Sunday.
November twenty-first, nineteen twenty, dawned like any other Sunday in Dublin.However, beneath the surface of normalcy, a carefully planned operation was about to unfold.Michael Collins, the IRA's Director of Intelligence, had devised a daring plan to cripple British intelligence operations in Ireland.Collins' Squad, a unit of IRA volunteers, received orders to assassinate key figures within the British intelligence network.These targets, ranging from high-ranking officers to informants, represented a direct threat to the IRA's operations and the broader independence movement.In the early hours of that fateful Sunday, the Squad fanned out across Dublin, targeting individuals in their homes and lodgings.The operation, carried out with efficiency, sent shock-waves through the British administration in Ireland.
As news of the assassinations spread,a palpable tension gripped Dublin.Unaware of the morning's events, thousands of people flocked to Croke Park, the home of Gaelic games, Dublin were scheduled to play Tipperary in a one-off challenge match the proceeds of which were in aid of the Republican Prisoners Dependants Fund.The atmosphere was festive, a brief respite from the ongoing conflict.Shortly after three in the afternoon, a convoy of British forces, including members of the Auxiliary Division and Black and Tans, arrived outside Croke Park.Whether acting on direct orders or driven by a thirst for revenge, the armed forces stormed into the stadium.Chaos erupted as gunfire ripped through the air.Panicked spectators scrambled for cover, the festive atmosphere transforming into a scene of terror.When the shooting finally stopped, fourteen innocent Irish people lay dead, including players and spectators. Dozens more were wounded.
The Quest for Justice- Unanswered Questions and the Weight of History.Despite the passage of time, many questions surrounding Bloody Sunday remain unanswered.The families of victims continue to seek justice, demanding a full accounting of what transpired on that tragic day and accountability for those responsible.The British government, for its part, has never issued a formal apology for the Croke Park massacre.While some inquiries and investigations have taken place over the years, many argue that a full and independent inquiry is needed to uncover the truth.The weight of history hangs heavy over Bloody Sunday.The events of that day serve as a stark reminder of the dangers of unchecked state violence and the importance of truth.
The McCormack Case- A Microcosm of Conflict and Contradiction.The case of Captain Patrick McCormack, one of the individuals assassinated by the IRA on Bloody Sunday, adds another layer of complexity to the events of that day.McCormack, an Irishman and veteran of World War One, was killed at the Gresham Hotel in Dublin.The IRA accused McCormack of being a British intelligence officer, involved in espionage against the Republican movement.His family denied these allegations, maintaining his innocence and demanding justice for his death.The British government, recognizing the sensitivity of the case, awarded McCormack's family a substantial sum in compensation.This act, however, further fueled tensions, with the Irish government refusing to contribute, citing evidence of McCormack's alleged involvement with British intelligence.
Bloody Sunday's Enduring Legacy- A Turning Point in Irish History.Bloody Sunday stands as a pivotal event in Irish history, a bloody turning point in the struggle for independence.The horrific massacre at Croke Park,left an indelible mark on the Irish psyche and the course of Anglo-Irish relations.The brutality of Bloody Sunday shattered any remaining illusions of a peaceful resolution to the conflict.It galvanised support for the IRA ,Today Bloody Sunday serves as a stark reminder of the violence against the Irish.It is a day that should never be forgotten,one that should also serve as a call to action to ensure that Ireland remains Irish. Which the slibhins in the Irish government today are so eager to give away.
List of the Croke Park victims murdered by The Brits.
Death, The word itself hangs heavy in the air, a weight that seems to press down on us all.We associate it with loss, with grief, with the finality of a slamming door.But what if death, instead of being an ending, is really a beginning?What if it's not a full stop, but a comma, a pause before a new sentence begins?Our ancestors, those who came before us and walked this earth under ancient skies, often saw it this way.They believed that death was not the end of existence, but a transition to another realm, a continuation of the journey of the soul.In their wisdom, they understood that life and death were two sides of the same coin, inseparable and intertwined.This belief, far from being a quaint superstition, offered comfort and hope.It allowed them to face their own mortality and the passing of loved ones with a degree of acceptance and even anticipation.It whispered that the story didn't end with the last breath, but simply shifted to a new chapter."
Echoes of an Afterlife
Across the globe, from New Grange passage tomb, to the pyramids of Egypt,
cultures have woven intricate tapestries of belief around the concept of an afterlife.The ancient Egyptians, for instance, meticulously prepared their dead for a journey through the underworld to a paradise where they would live forever.The ancient Egyptians, for instance, meticulously prepared their dead for a journey through the underworld to a paradise where they would live forever.In many traditions, death is seen as a return to the embrace of the Mother earth, a source of renewal and rebirth.Ancestors are not gone but ever-present, their spirits residing in the natural world, offering guidance and protection.These beliefs, though diverse in their expression, share a common thread- the idea that death is not an annihilation of the self, but a transformation.They offer a glimpse into the enduring human need to find meaning beyond the finite nature of our physical existence."
A Tapestry of Belief
Perhaps the most comforting aspect of these beliefs is the implication that those who have passed may not even realise they have left our world.Imagine for a moment, a loved one slipping away, not into oblivion, but into a realm so similar to our own that the transition is seamless.They may continue to experience life, to love, to learn, unaware that they have crossed an invisible threshold.This idea, though impossible to prove, carries a certain poetic truth.It speaks to the enduring power of consciousness, the possibility that our essence, our spirit, transcends the limitations of our physical bodies.It suggests that the connections we forge in life, the love we share, the memories we create, exist on a plane beyond the reach of death's grasp.They become a part of the fabric of the universe, woven into the very tapestry of existence."
The Illusion of Departure
the grand scheme of things, it may be that death is merely an illusion, a trick of our limited perception. In Just as a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly, our essence may simply shed its earthly cocoon and take flight into a new and wondrous form.So, when faced with the reality of death, let us not despair.Let us remember the wisdom of our ancestors and find solace in the belief that death is not the end, but a new beginning.
The burning of Cork by British forces, took place during the Irish War of Independence on the night of 11th and 12th of December 1920. The black and tans and british soldiers burned homes in the city, before looting and burning numerous buildings in the centre of Cork, Ireland's third-biggest city... Many Irish civilians reported being beaten, shot at, and robbed by British forces. Firefighters testified that British forces hindered their attempts to tackle the blazes by intimidation, cutting their hoses and shooting at them. Two unarmed Irish men were also shot dead at their home in the north of the city. More than 40 business premises, 300 residential properties, the City Hall and Carnegie Library were destroyed by fires, many of which were started by British forces using incendiary bombs. The economic damage was estimated at over £3 million (equivalent to approximately 150 million in 2022), while 2,000 were left jobless and many more became homeless... British forces carried out many similar attacks on Irish civilians during the war, notably the Sacking of Balbriggan three months before and the burning of Knockcroghery six months later, but the burning of Cork was one of the most substantial. The British government at first denied that its forces had started the fires, and only agreed to hold a military inquiry. This concluded that a company of Auxiliaries were responsible, but the government refused to publish the report at the time. No one was held accountable for the burning.Blind eyes always turned when it comes to justice for the Irish Citizens by the Brit government,No different to the way we are treated today in our own land by those who are in the free state government....
The Cloven-Hoofed Stranger: Achill Island's Eerie Legend
A wild and rugged place.It sits off the west coast of Ireland, lashed by the Atlantic waves.The wind howls across its peat bogs and heather-covered hills.It whispers secrets through the crumbling stone walls.The islanders are a hardy people.They know the sea’s fury.They know the land’s harsh embrace. And they know the stories that have been passed down for generations.Stories of fairies and spirits, of ancient curses and forgotten gods.The islanders are devoutly Catholic.They find solace in their faith.It protects them from the darkness that lurks at the edges of their world.But sometimes, even faith is not enough to hold back the shadows.This is one such story.A tale whispered in hushed tones around peat fires.A story of a cloven-hoofed stranger and the terror he brought to Achill Island. Seán O’Malley was a fisherman.He knew the sea like the back of his hand.He knew the dangers that lurked beneath the waves.But he also knew the bounty it could provide.One evening, Seán was walking home along the coast road.A thick fog had rolled in, shrouding the land in an eerie silence.The air was heavy with the smell of salt and seaweed. Seán pulled his coat tighter around him. He quickened his pace, eager to reach the warmth of his cottage.Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him. Heavy, deliberate footsteps. He paused, listening intently. The footsteps stopped.He turned, his heart pounding in his chest.There, standing in the swirling mist, was a tall figure.The figure was shrouded in shadow.Seán could only make out a pair of piercing red eyes.He took a step back, fear clutching at his throat.As the figure stepped forward, a flash of lightning illuminated the road. Seán gasped.The stranger’s feet were not those of a man. They were cloven hooves.The news of Seán's encounter spread like wildfire through the village.Fear and unease gripped the islanders.Whispers of the cloven-hoofed stranger filled every corner.Women clutched their rosaries a little tighter.Men spoke in hushed tones of ancient curses and demonic forces.The stranger became a haunting presence, his cloven hooves echoing in the nightmares of the islanders.Each day seemed to bring a new sighting.A fleeting glimpse of a dark figure on the cliffs.The sound of heavy footsteps echoing through the village at night.The smell of sulphur lingering in the air.The islanders were afraid to venture out alone after dark.The once vibrant community was slowly being consumed by fear and suspicion.Father McCarthy was a man of God.He was a pillar of strength for his parishioners.He was known for his unwavering faith and his compassion for his flock.He knew the power of superstition.He had seen the grip it could hold over people's minds.But there was something about the fear in his parishioners' eyes that went beyond mere superstition.One stormy night, Father McCarthy decided to confront the stranger himself.He walked out into the teeth of the gale, his faith his only shield.He stood on the cliffs, the wind whipping his robes around him, and called out to the darkness. Show yourself! he boomed.I am Father McCarthy, servant of God.What brings you to our shores?For a moment, there was only the sound of the wind and the waves crashing against the rocks below.Then, a deep voice, thick with an ancient malice, answered him.This island is mine, the voice echoed across the cliffs.It was promised to me.Father McCarthy returned to his church, his mind racing.He knew he had to find a way to help his parishioners.He spent hours poring over ancient texts and scriptures, searching for any mention of a cloven-hoofed being or a deal struck with the devil.Finally, in a dusty tome hidden deep in the church archives, he found it.The book told the story of a man who had made a pact with the devil in exchange for wealth and power.The man had reneged on the deal, and in retaliation, the devil had cursed him.He was condemned to wander the earth for eternity, his feet transformed into cloven hooves.The curse, the book claimed, would only be lifted when the people of the land he haunted offered up their prayers and repentance for the sins of the cursed man.Armed with this knowledge, Father McCarthy knew what he had to do.He gathered his parishioners together.He told them the story of the cursed man and the price that had been paid for his greed.He told them the story of the cursed man and the price that had been paid for his greed.Night after night, the villagers gathered in the church.They prayed for the stranger's soul.They begged for forgiveness for their own transgressions.They held processions through the village, carrying candles and reciting prayers.The air was thick with incense and the sound of whispered pleas for deliverance.As the prayers continued, the stranger’s appearances became less frequent.The fear that had gripped the island began to dissipate.The villagers, united in their faith and their purpose, found strength and solace in their shared belief.Eventually, the cloven-hoofed stranger was seen no more.Some whispered that the stranger had finally found peace.Others believed that he was still out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the islanders' faith to waver.Whatever the truth, the legend of the cloven-hoofed stranger became a part of Achill Island’s folklore.To this day, the story is told around peat fires on long winter nights. A reminder of the power of faith and the importance of community in the face of fear. The legend serves as a cautionary tale, warning against the dangers of greed and the importance of keeping one's word. And on foggy nights, when the wind howls across the island, some say you can still hear the echo of heavy footsteps on the cliffs. A chilling reminder of the cloven-hoofed stranger and the terror he brought to the Island.
The story of the cloven-hoofed stranger is more than just a spooky tale. It’s a testament to the power of belief.Belief in something beyond ourselves, something that can protect us from the darkness.It’s a reminder that even in the face of fear, we are not alone.We have our faith, our community, and our stories to guide us.And so, the legend lives on, passed down through generations, a chilling reminder of the mysteries that lurk at the edges of our world and the enduring power of faith to overcome them.
The Cornmarket area bustles.A vibrant energy fills the air.But step behind St. Audeon's Church, and the mood shifts.A narrow alleyway beckons, a descent into darkness.Stone steps lead down, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps.This is the Stairway to Hell, they say.Sunlight struggles to reach the bottom.The air grows damp and cold, heavy with the weight of history.To the left, Cook Street stretches, a place of shadows even in daylight.To the right lies Fishamble Street, its past whispered on the wind.The Cornmarket fades above, its noise a distant murmur.Down here, silence reigns, broken only by the echo of your own footsteps.A shiver runs down your spine. You are not alone.
Darkey Kelly's Stairway
They called her Darkey Kelly, a woman shrouded in rumour and fear.She ran a tavern near these steps in the eighteenth century, a den of vice frequented by soldiers and sailors.But whispers followed her. Whispers of darker deeds.Some said she was a procuress, others a witch.The authorities accused her of infanticide, claiming she murdered the men who fathered her children.The truth, lost to time, is perhaps more sinister.Found guilty, Darkey Kelly met a gruesome end, hanged on January seventh, seventeen sixty-one near her own establishment.Her spirit, they say, never left. Bound to the place of her demise, she wanders still, a restless presence in the gloom.Her name is etched into the very fabric of the stairway, a chilling reminder of her tragic fate.
Where Shadows Linger
The alleyway is a scar on the city's landscape.Its darkness seems to absorb the light, leaving a perpetual twilight.The air is thick with the stench of dampness and decay, a testament to years of neglect.This is a place where secrets fester and evil finds refuge.Crime has always clung to the shadows here.Pickpockets and thieves lurk in the darkness, waiting to prey on the unwary.Violence hangs in the air, a palpable presence.Over the centuries, the steps have witnessed countless acts of cruelty, their stones stained with the blood of the innocent.But it is the unseen that truly chills.Footsteps echo where no one walks.Whispers brush against your ear, carried on the cold breeze.The hair on the back of your neck prickles with a sense of being watched.This is a place where the veil between worlds wears thin.
The Ghosts of the Stairway
They say the Stairway to Hell is haunted, and who would doubt it?Too many stories linger, whispered by those who dare to venture here after dark.Footsteps follow close behind, only to vanish when you turn.A cold hand brushes your cheek, leaving a trail of ice in its wake.And then there’s Darkey Kelly.Some claim to see her, a fleeting figure in a ragged dress, her eyes burning with a cold fire.Others hear her mournful cries, echoing through the darkness, a lament for a life cut short, a soul denied peace. Truth or legend?In this place, the lines blur.The Stairway to Hell holds its secrets close, guarded by the spirits of those who met their end here.As you climb back towards the light, you can't shake the feeling that something lingers, watching you from the shadows.
The Anglo-Irish Treaty, signed in December nineteen twenty-one, was a watershed moment in Irish history.It offered Ireland a form of independence as the Irish Free State, a self-governing dominion within the British Commonwealth.However, it also stipulated that Ireland would remain constitutionally linked to Britain, with allegiance to the British monarch and the retention of certain British naval bases on Irish soil.This compromise proved deeply divisive within Ireland, cleaving the newly formed government and the wider populace.The treaty's proponents, led by Arthur Griffith and Michael Collins, argued that it offered a pragmatic path to independence, a stepping stone to a fully sovereign republic.They maintained that it was, well, the freedom to achieve freedom.However, the treaty faced fierce opposition from within the republican movement.Those opposed, led by Eamon de Valera, argued that it was a betrayal of the Irish Republic declared in nineteen nineteen and a compromise of the hard-won gains of the War of Independence.They rejected any continued association with Britain and demanded a fully independent republic.The debate over the treaty ignited a firestorm of political and social unrest.The Irish Parliament, was deeply divided, with passionate arguments and bitter recriminations exchanged between former comrades-in-arms.
The Irish Civil War, a tragic and brutal conflict, erupted in June nineteen twenty-two.It pitted former comrades-in-arms against each other, dividing families and communities.On one side stood the forces of the newly established Irish Free State, known as the National Army, which supported the Anglo-Irish Treaty.They were led by Michael Collins, a pragmatic strategist who had played a key role in the War of Independence.On the other side stood the anti-treaty IRA, often referred to as the Republicans, who opposed the treaty and fought for a fully independent republic.They were initially led by Eamon de Valera, though military operations were largely directed by figures such as Liam Lynch and Ernie O'Malley.The Civil War was marked by bitter fighting, often characterised by guerrilla warfare and urban combat.The National Army, better equipped using equipment supplied by the Brits, gradually gained the upper hand.Key battles, such as the Battle of Dublin in July nineteen twenty-two, which saw the shelling of the Four Courts by National Army artillery, illustrated the intensity and brutality of the conflict.The Republicans, though outnumbered and outgunned, fought with tenacity and determination.They employed guerrilla tactics, ambushing National Army patrols, disrupting supply lines, and conducting raids on government installations.However, their lack of resources and the gradual consolidation of National Army control ultimately led to their defeat.
The Irish Civil War, though shorter than the War of Independence, left a deep and enduring scar on Irish society.The conflict claimed the lives of thousands of Irish men and women, leaving countless others wounded or displaced.The war ended in May nineteen twenty-three with the defeat of the anti-treaty IRA.The war's legacy extended far beyond the immediate casualties and destruction.It created deep divisions within Irish society, poisoning political discourse and hindering national reconciliation for generations.The bitterness engendered by the conflict, the sense of betrayal and loss, resonated long after the guns fell silent.The Civil War also cast a long shadow over Irish politics.And still our land is divided and ruled by free staters with what looks like no intentions of a united Ireland...
In the heart of Ireland, nestled among ancient folklore and whispered superstitions, lies the unsettling legend of the Fetch.This eerie entity, whose very name sends shivers down the spine, is more than just a figment of imagination.It is deeply rooted in Irish folklore, its name echoing the Gaelic word fáith, meaning seer or prophet.The Fetch is a spectral double, an uncanny replica of a living person, and its appearance is often considered a chilling portent of things to come.Imagine walking home on a moonlit night, the wind whistling through the trees, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and distant bonfires.As you round a bend in the road, you spot a figure ahead, its silhouette eerily familiar.It moves with the same gait, the same mannerisms as someone you know, perhaps even yourself.This, my friends, is the chilling reality of the Fetch.It is a spectral doppelganger, a harbinger of change, and its presence is rarely welcomed.The Fetch is not merely a phantom; it is an echo of the soul, a psychic projection imbued with a strange and unsettling power.It exists on the periphery of our world, a whisper from the realm of spirits, and its appearances are often accompanied by a sense of unease, a prickling of the skin, a sudden chill in the air.Some believe it to be a manifestation of one's own mortality, a reminder that life is fleeting, that death is an ever-present shadow lurking just beyond the veil."
The Fetch is a creature of duality, its arrival heralding either great misfortune or unexpected blessings, depending on the time of day it chooses to reveal itself.Should this spectral doppelganger grace you with its presence in the shadowy hours of the evening, be warned, for it is said to be an omen of impending doom.Like the banshee's wail or the mournful toll of a death knell, the evening Fetch is a harbinger of ill tidings, a spectral messenger sent to forewarn of an approaching tragedy.However, if the Fetch appears in the hopeful light of morning, bathed in the golden rays of a new dawn, it brings with it the promise of good fortune.This diurnal apparition, unlike its nocturnal counterpart, is a beacon of hope, a sign that fate is smiling upon you.It is as if the very fabric of the universe has shifted in your favor, granting you a glimpse of the good fortune that lies ahead.The Fetch's message, whether it be one of doom or fortune, is rarely direct.It communicates through its appearance, its actions, the emotions it evokes in those who witness it.It is a creature of subtlety, its message whispered on the wind, glimpsed in the flickering candlelight, felt in the marrow of your bones. The Fetch, though always a spectral replica of a living person, is not bound by the constraints of reality.Its appearance can be fluid, shifting, its features reflecting the fate that awaits the one it mirrors.This spectral doppelganger is not merely a carbon copy; it is a reflection of the soul, and as such, it can reveal much about the destiny of the person it embodies.A healthy, vibrant Fetch, full of life and vigour, signifies good health and longevity for the person it represents.Conversely, a Fetch that appears gaunt, pale, or sickly is a chilling portent of illness or impending death.The Fetch's attire can also hold significance.To see one's Fetch clad in a shroud or burial clothes is an ill omen indeed, a sure sign that death is close at hand.Some believe that the Fetch can even foreshadow the manner of a person's death.If the Fetch is seen drowning, for instance, it is believed that the person it represents will soon meet a watery grave.Likewise, a Fetch that appears injured or wounded suggests an accident or violent end.The Fetch's appearance, though unsettling, provides a glimpse into the future, a warning that can be heeded or ignored, but never truly escaped.
The Fetch rarely interacts directly with the living.It prefers to observe from the shadows, a silent witness to the unfolding drama of human life.Encounters with this spectral entity are often fleeting and unexpected,leaving witnesses with a lingering sense of unease and a profound feeling of having brushed against something ancient and unknowable.Sometimes, the Fetch is seen only by the person it represents,a private premonition that can either be heeded or ignored.Other times, it appears to friends or family members,its message a chilling warning for them to convey.These secondhand encounters, though less direct, are no less unsettling,for they carry with them the weight of the Fetch's message,the unspoken knowledge of what is to come.The Fetch's presence is often described as cold, distant, almost melancholic.The Fetch's presence is often described as cold, distant, almost melancholic.It moves with a strange grace, its feet seeming not to touch the ground.Its eyes, if they are visible at all, are said to be filled with a deep sadness,a reflection of its role as a harbinger of change, both good and bad.It is a creature caught between worlds,a spectral messenger forever bound to deliver its tidings,whether they be welcomed or feared.
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