Written on: 7. 8. 2021 in the category: Uncategorized

UN Job for Zappone the Crony Says It All

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The most terrifying thing about Ireland today is the abject compliance that unites politicians, journalists, academics, trade unionists, teachers, clergy and civil servants. The oracles of political correctness merely have to utter their Valleyspeak gibberish, and these groups cravenly submit.

This is the Irish version of a political pandemic in a globalised world, which God help me, I initially welcomed, not learning the lessons from the AIDS epidemic: states without borders are in their own way every bit as vulnerable as is human physiology when protective barriers – such as sexual continence – are removed.

The metaphor became reality last year, as China realised it had accidentally released a deadly virus in Wuhan, which it then propelled into the west, just to see what might happen next.

Now it knows. And so do we.

As with the emergence of any major historical era, no single or simple explanations account for the many-layered crises now assailing the world. Much power in the west has passed to government-sponsored single-issue, activist NGOs. These now attract the busy-body Trotskyite types who would once upon a time have been slaving over a hot Gestetner in the garret, producing leaflets to be issued at street corners promising the worldly paradise of The Fifth Workers International.

But now, as single-issue advocates they are not merely employed as advisers and lawyers in government-subsidised programmes about gender equality, anti-racism, feminism, transgenderism and the environment, they can also dramatically influence how legal policies are interpreted and enforced.

In the US, which is well on the way to hell, they are everywhere, as judges make decisions according to their own personal whims. The Supreme Court’s Clarence Thomas, who scrupulously follows the letter of the law, is ridiculed as a reactionary because he refuses to indulge his own preferences, while Ruth Bader Ginsberg, who volubly poured scorn on the democratic process while preferring to impose her own opinions on both law and society, and very successfully too, has been secularly canonised.

The city of San Francisco, California’s gallant attempt at making the Calcutta faeces-in-the-street experience available to all without the bother of going to West Bengal, is virtually governed by single-issue advocates; it has some two thousand employees earning over $250,000 a year, most of them on “equality projects” of some kind or other.

Just south of it lies the sewer of Silicon Valley, from which emanates much of the ideological cholera assailing us in Ireland. Here deranged psychopaths assume the power of transcontinental states: Elon Musk puts rockets into space and Bill Gates decides to eliminate malaria from Africa. For such lunatics, the world is a great big train set.

But the population of every single African country is doubling every twenty years, whereas Britain’s still hasn’t doubled since 1870. “Bushmeat” instead of farmed meat is now eaten everywhere across the continent as wildlife is slaughtered and rainforests recede. Malawi, 70% afforested at independence, now resembles the Oklahoma dustbowl. Malthusian calamity and murderous Islamism await to devour the continent; meanwhile, Bill Gates is going to kill the pesky mosquito, thereby helping Africa’s population to grow even faster.

Culturally, Britain has possibly gone even further than the US: not merely has it similarly deified the black race, it has actually abolished white men. The fool Southgate chose three black players to take the decisive penalties in the European soccer final solely because of their colour, though none had ever taken a penalty before. BLM genuflexions are now to be mandatory before English football matches. Caucasian males have vanished from adverts on British television, where historical British characters are now routinely played by black actors. No reverse role is tolerated: that would be cultural appropriation, though on those self-same, self-evidently insane grounds, black men should be prevented from playing football, which was invented by white men for white men in Victorian England.

This is to remind you that Ireland suffers merely from an acute local form of a global disease. However, I don’t think there has ever been an era during my lifetime when the atmosphere has been as rank as it is now, made so by virtue-warriors in the mainstream media who signal their moral superiority with a lexicon of politically correct disdain, small-minded, racist nationalism and pseudo-feminist vitriol.

This has managed to achieve a weird fusion with a very Irish culture of cronyism. Step forward the feminist-socialist Katherine Zappone, previously best known for her ability to claim large tax-free allowances for travelling over the 24 km threshold to the Dail, though she lived just 22 km away. She is the quintessential modern politician: lesbian, feminist, at home anywhere. She lives in New York but recently hosted a rather useful reception in Dublin, at which the Tanaiste Leo Varadkar was – naturally – a guest. The following week she was appointed special Irish ambassador to the UN for free speech without the Taoiseach even being told.

She’s clearly great on free travel: but perhaps less so on free speech, a subject about which she has hitherto been curiously reticent. Her UN job only would only have paid her €15,000 for sixty days work a year: but lo! – the small print states that the state would also cover her travel and hotel expenses.

Yes, we know what that would probably have meant: from her apartment to the UN HQ, via Dublin and a few splendid days in the Merrion, courtesy of the state.

Meanwhile, vainly looking for some Irish Times’ denunciation of her creepy appointment, I found she had written a piece about “Ireland’s genuine efforts to be a Republic of equality, justice and love.”

Of what? You mean, as in the sort of equality, justice and love that lands her a plum, all-expenses-paid government job without any advertisement or competition? She would probably still be ambassador-in-waiting with an open expense-account if The Irish Times had had its silently approving way, but The Irish Independent rumbled what was going on, whereupon – according to her – she found that the fuss over her appointment meant she could no longer accept it.

Not the wholly covert manner of her appointment, mind: just the horrible fuss over it.

However, we should never underestimate her imaginative powers. When writing in The Irish Times about the legacy of mothers-and-babies homes, she suggested that artists might be of use to communicate victims’ testimonies.

“Trying to predict the journey of such work would itself undermine the process.”

Indeed: rather like trying to predict her hotel and travel expenses.

But her vacuous words remind us that liberals love art, especially abstract daubs that might well be The Agony of Guernica, The Slaughter of the Innocents or possibly Mardi Gras in New Orleans: for them, rather like principles, art is all a matter of personal interpretation. In the case of the UN appointment, it simply meant dressing up traditional Irish cronyism in the finery of feminist secularism, abortion on demand, gay marriage and Auntie Tom Cobley and all. In other words, proof of the arrogance of our new politically correct governing elite.

For Varadkar and Coveney are no different from the jobs-for-the-boys Fianna Fail administrations of the past, but now it’s permanent employment deep in the state machinery for the newly created caste of right-on activists, BLM Stalinists and so on. Soon, it won’t matter which constitutional party is in government: the left-liberal agenda will be enforced anyway, with the courts, quangos and single-issue advocacy groups making countless tiny, agenda-enforcing, precedent-establishing decisions every day.

However, this process takes on a wholly new and sinister dimension with the metastatic presence of Sinn Fein-IRA inside our body politic. This force will cannibalise any cause, cloak itself in all manner of political garment and dress itself in every kind of right-on finery to achieve power. Its underlying objective remains the same: to destroy the Northern Irish state and impose its will on the Irish people through intimidation, subversion and political manipulation.

Tom Carew might well be right in his closely analysed assessment that Sfira reached their electoral high point last year: but Sfira work in many ways their wonders to perform. They seem to have captured RTE and The Irish Times: what other institutions are already but covertly in thrall to the IRA army council? How many largely invisible daily decisions across Irish society, at the lower levels of quango, local and national government, are daily weighted in Sfira’s favour? Certainly, the immensely centralised government created in response to the pandemic admirably suits the dictatorial needs of Sinn Fein-IRA.

In their more measured way, they rather resemble the bacillus of Leninism arriving at the Finland Station in 1917. Who would have thought so much global horror would have resulted from the triumph of that little bearded man stepping onto the platform of the Helsinki-St Petersburg line, his legacy still living on in Peking, Pyongyang, Minsk and Hanoi? And what misery awaits us all if that weird Sfira-led alliance of neo-communists, pseudo-feminists, anarcho-Trotskyites and, most importantly, the ever-useful, ever-plentiful and ever-pliable idiots, capture the instruments of government in Ireland?

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