Whereas The Sunday World’s report on the June weekend shooting at a Carlow mall gave primary billing to an American couple, who happened to be visiting the mall at the time, RTÉ’s corresponding report had to play second fiddle to an ANTIFA firebomb attack on a pro-Israel rally in Colorado. This latter report is important, as Ireland has her own noxious alliance of ANTIFA thugs who have brought that feature of American street culture here and have an almost endless list of “legitimate targets” to set their street level attack dogs on.
Chief amongst those targets are everyone and anyone who threaten their control of the streets. Thus, when Irish people organise a peaceful march in Cork for the second weekend in June, these rethreaded Paisleyites immediately organise a counter protest and dishonestly hijack the Palestinian cause to do so. It seems these ANTIFA leeches cannot exist unless they have someone to have a dust up with.
When there was a recent rally outside Dublin’s Custom House, ANTIFA claimed that a bunch of the protesting fascists went into the nearby James Connolly pub and started a fight with a gang of Glasgow Celtic fans, who were watching a Scottish soccer match there. When a harmless Irish busker, who literally sings songs for his supper, was barred from Peadar Browns, a trendy left-wing pub in Dublin’s former Jewish quarter, ANTIFA thugs, together with their beer bellies, assembled there in the mistaken belief that the busker’s buddies were going to picket the place.
It seems for Ireland’s street level ANTIFA thugs, rebellion consists of rioting with Bohemians Football Club, watching foreign games in the James Connolly pub, and singing Seán South from Garryowen or Christy Moore’s Viva la Quinta Brigada in Peadar Browns. Not only were James Connolly and Seán South both teetotallers, but the lyrics to the Seán South song these drunks get off on singing were first published in the Irish Catholic magazine, and as for Connolly, he ordered the GPO garrison to fire on the Sackville Street looters, who were the Irish ANTIFA of their day. As for Pearse claiming that Connolly was the guiding brain of 1916, he was no such thing. Mac Diarmada and Clarke were the brains behind it, and Connolly’s elevated role is due to a century of carefully rewriting Irish history by ANTIFA and their allies that we also see with Christy Moore rewriting of the Spanish Civil war.
The first thing to note about Christy Moore’s Viva la Quinta Brigada is that he claimed it was inspired by Mick O’Riordan’s book on the Connolly Column, even though no such column ever existed, and that most of the “Irish” fighters mentioned were British members of the Communist Party of Great Britain, and are of interest mainly for showing up O’Riordan, Moore and Gestapo agent Frank Ryan as ahistorical charlatans. O’Riordan’s book, which is suspiciously written in both the first and third person, makes it obvious that O’Riordan, who was barely a wet weekend in Spain, saw no military action, and the only action Ryan saw was following Ernest Hemingway through the brothels and bordellos of Madrid and Barcelona. Although Moore’s song makes Kit Conway out as an IRA guerrilla hero, the only mention of him in Irish military records is scurrying away like the rat he was from a scrap in Tipperary.
As regards “coming from the other side”, most of Ryan’s sisters were nuns and “poet” Charlie Donnelly, about whom ANTIFA agents Cathal O’Shannon and Louis Lentin made a propaganda piece for RTÉ, came from wealthy Tyrone stock and, contrary to what Ryan claimed, failed his first year UCD exams not once, not twice but a staggering three times. The guy was a loser, a charge that cannot be made against O’Riordan, who had a very lucrative war or Peadar O’Donnell, the CPGB’s chief Irish recruiter for Moore’s Quinta Brigada.
Irish oddball Peadar O’Donnell, who was living the easy life just outside of Barcelona, when the Spanish Civil War erupted, was cut from some very depraved cloth. Salud, his screed about his time whoring about Barcelona at the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War, is, far and away, the sickest and most depraved book ever to see ink. O’Donnell not only orgasms at the wanton torching of churches and his buddies forcing kids to defecate on church vestments, but he excuses it by referencing similar events he imagined happened in the fictional Ireland of his pampered youth. Looting his way into Barcelona with a bunch of anarchists, O’Donnell stops to watch “fascists” being summarily executed and he rejoices at convents being sacked while eloquent idiots like himself send illiterate women to wanton deaths. He excuses his anarchist buddies’ war crimes by lying that priests are all narcissistic, money-grabbing pigs and he then chortles that there might be something wrong with his moral compass. This gigolo finds it hilarious that sixty captured Little Sisters of the Poor nuns were cowering “like wild animals” as this beast put it, in the hold of a coal boat and he claims he knows of priceless heirlooms being stored in their convents. On page 152 of the text, he scoffs at Irish politicians who “made the issue very simple. You were either in favour of burning churches and all that or you were against burning churches and all that” even though that alone is a far more incisive analysis than his own puke-inducing screed, which helped to popularise the war crimes his cronies committed against the Spanish people during those years.
His comradeship of heroes, whom Moore and Official Ireland idolise, put the parish priest of Navalmoral through a parody of Christ’s Crucifixion. They murdered the Bishop of Jaén, Manuel Basulto y Jiménez, and his sister in front of a two thousand-strong mob which O’Donnell swears were the salt of the earth. They threw the parish priest of Ciempozuelos into a corral with fighting bulls, where he was gored into unconsciousness. Afterwards, the priest’s right ear was sliced off to imitate the feat of a matador after a successful bullfight. The bishops of Siguenza Lleida, Cuenca, Barbastro, Segorbe, Jaén, Ciudad Real, Almeria, Guadix, Barcelona, Teruel and Tarragona were among the victims of O’Donnell’s heroic comrades. So too were 4,172 diocesan priests, 2,364 monks and friars, 259 Claretians, 226 Franciscans, 204 Piarists, 176 Brothers of Mary, 165 Christian Brothers, 155 Augustinians, 132 Dominicans, and 114 Jesuits.
Just as O’Donnell, who barely did an honest day’s work in his life after he married into money, used the knuckle draggers of his day to destroy Spain, so also are his type doing the very same in Ireland today by physically attacking low hanging fruit like elderly protesters and harmless buskers while, at the same time, defending the rights of teenage Roma immigrants to brandish spiked knuckle dusters and self-styled Islamic scholar and “theologian” Shaykh Dr. Umar Al-Qadri to have his annual Eid party in Croke Park, a glaring irony when one considers his attitude and those of his fellow travellers at the Guardian towards camogie players wearing shorts or skorts.
Just as Ian Paisley was an unmitigated diversion for Ireland, so also are his intellectual heirs, who want to throw the Irish baby out with the Irish bath water to further ANTIFA’s nihilistic agenda, and it is that objective which underwrites this abstract alliance of Al Qadri, Moore, Peadar Browns, their sponsors and the knuckle draggers they inspire. Stripped of Moore’s melodies, all their vision amounts to are Eid parties in Croke Park, shoot ups in Carlow malls, and punch ups everywhere else.
George Orwell, no stranger to Christy Moore’s pantheon of comrades, summed up ANTIFA’s authoritarian vision best in 1984: “There will be no curiosity, no enjoyment of the process of life. All competing pleasures will be destroyed. But always— do not forget this, Winston— always there will be the intoxication of power, constantly increasing and constantly growing subtler. Always, at every moment, there will be the thrill of victory, the sensation of trampling on an enemy who is helpless. If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face— forever.”
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