P.H. Pearse

Mise Éire (translated from the original Irish)

By P.H. Pearse

I am Ireland:
I am older than the old woman of Beare.

Great my glory:
I who bore Cuchulainn, the brave.

Great my shame:
My own children who sold their mother.

Great my pain:
My irreconcilable enemy who harrasses me continually...

Great my sorrow
That crowd, in whom I placed my trust, died.

I am Ireland:
I am lonelier than the old woman of Beare.

Click here to purchase Mise Éire tickets (miseeire.ie)

Life After Desperation?

An extract from my diary description of Mise Éire I, August 2025

It’s a long time since I saw a room with a thousand Irish people in it and looking so happy. We might have to go back to the Casino Ballroom in the Grey Castle, around 1977, or the Sound of Music Club in Glenamaddy, or the Midnight Club in Ballaghaderreen, in the dying days of the ballrooms in the early 1980s, and maybe with Horslips at the top table, or The Fuze, all the way from Galway, or Brush Shiels doing his droll and acrobatic thing in front of hangarful of sweaty hopefuls, looking for love or something lesser — a dance, a kiss, a ‘court’, a cup of tea and a sandwitch, a ‘mineral’, some kind of new connection or promise, some instant of fellow-feeling to blur out the loneliness and make the night alright.

That’s what the magic was — of Mise Éire, I mean — more or less: the sense of a landing, of liberation, of emergence and arrival, of having found an oasis in which it was permissible to be oneself, to speak spontaneously to fellow travellers in the reasonable certainty that you would not be rebuffed or treated to a blank stare or a dismissive slogan from the TV. I have not laughed as much for sixty-six months. I have not seen so much joy on people’s faces for maybe fifteen or seventeen years. It was enough to bring a strong man to tears. I would not use the term ‘awakening’, which I find insulting and reductive, since it implies sloth and inattention rather than what we are dealing with: bemusement, horror, no little terror. I do not believe that our people have been asleep, so much as isolated and lonely in their bafflement and trepidation. What has happened to everything they had and loved? Where has their country gone to? Why are those they trusted as its custodian taking it apart, sod from sod, and giving it away to indifferent aliens and their sponsors? On whose authority? By whose consent? In response to what orders and from whom? At what signal was this process of destruction set in train?

A friend of mine would later say that it was ‘like a big wedding’. Bingo! But who was the bride, and who the groom? The answer is something like: each of us, in his or her loneliness, meeting another in a corridor, on a stairwell, in a moment, for an instant, greeting as though lovers after an extended separation or tiff. Strangers until then. Maybe as many as a hundred thousand brief encounters, each one adding its share of intoxication, exhilaration, relief — that there is life to be found after tyranny.

I was pretty apprehensive beforehand. The saboteurs nobbled the security team on Friday evening, so I arrived to the possibility that the whole thing might have to be cancelled at that eleventh hour and fifty-fifth minute, but Cliff the Magician and Stephen the Inquirer stepped up with not one but two alternatives. The replacements were actually an improvement, not merely as capable as their yellow comrades but sympathetic to the spirit of the event, distinguishable from the patriotic punters only by their black uniforms and mandatory bald heads.

The venue, the Ivy Tower Hotel, was once the Welcome Inn, back in the day Castlebar’s premier ‘singing lounge’ and accordingly a place with rather dark connotations for me, as it was the music venue I attended on the night in 1977 just before I was beaten to a pulp on the street as a result of a freakish series of circumstances having nothing to do with me. I wrote about that episode in my diary in the immediate wake of the election count in Castlebar in June of [2024]. I do not think I mentioned in that entry that the man who ended up assaulting me had been the singer in the band playing in the Welcome Inn that night, a husband and father who had, after the gig, been alerted to some form of assault on his wife and young son, in the streets of Castlebar, even while he was singing less than half a mile away. Having gathered up a posse to avenge his family’s honour, he went out in search of the dastardly wretches who had committed this assault, but had landed his first flurry of blows on a hapless bystander, on foot of which, the next day, unprompted by anyone, he had walked into Castlebar copshop and reported himself. I was that punchbag. He has since died, I believe, but his name was Mick Cuffe, and bizarrely he was the first cousin of my best friend’s wife. I regret that I never went to see him afterwards, to say that there were no hard feelings. There are no hard feelings now.

Back in the present, having opted for an early night and left the organisers and early-arriving participants in the bar, I hit a wall of disconsolateness before my head could hit the pillow. I think the withdrawal of the security team (most likely bought off) had rattled me deeply, even though an alternative had been found. All through the night, I felt enormously sorrowful, waking numerous times in a state of agitation and sadness — sad, above all, that our country has come to the state of affairs we have observed over the past month, of bullying and stupidity and cowardice, our beautiful country, once so alive with humour and irony and wryness, now brought down by leaden cretins and criminal politicians. Contemplation of the lengths to which the forces of darkness are prepared to go in their mission to destroy truth and innocence and passion always has this effect on me. In my periods of wakefulness, I read some of the essays of P.H. Pearse, written just before the Rising, and which I planned to talk about come the morrow, and was becalmed.

My ‘instructions’ from Cliff — as the most conspicuous ‘red rag’ face — were to stay out of sight in the morning, order my breakfast in my room and wait until about midday to show myself. I awoke about 7am, showered and dressed, and then sat uneasily in the room for a while, counting crows through the window. By 9am I was climbing the walls, so I decided to disobey my orders and sneak downstairs in the hope of getting a quiet corner of the dining room, perchance to disappear. When I walked in, I carefully avoided making eye contact with any of the diners present and, unable to immediately see a sufficiently sheltered spot, started to panic moderately. Almost instantly, the proprietor, Mary, emerged from the kitchen and asked me, without explanation or introduction, if I would like to have my breakfast in the bar. Having no idea what she had in mind, but having last evening formed the view that she was a most sharp and watchful woman, I placed my life in her hands and allowed myself to be led through the kitchens to the bar, which was empty except for a barman counting small change into the till. Mary found me a table in a darkened corner, where I settled in while she delivered me orange juice, tea and toast, and a mini-breakfast (no egg). In due course, a couple of the other speakers passed through and we sat talking for a while about the coming event and its risks and implications. They too were nervous, though they too denied it. No cock crowed.

My anxiety turned out to be a total waste of spirit-energy. Once I allowed myself to walk freely through the building, meeting and talking to people, I loosened up and started to enjoy myself. I don’t think Elvis could have received a better reception, had he risen from the dead to head the bill. The place felt safe and secure, and yet normal, with no sense of siege. ‘There’s a thousand of us,’ I told myself, ‘and only a couple of dozen of those nutjobs.’

The new security team proved exceptional in their helpfulness and gentleness. For several days, I had been warning our people that if they happened to be outdoors for a smoke or whatever, they should avoid interaction with the dark forces, should anything of the kind happen to show up. Well, there I was about lunchtime at the front door, talking to a lad from the Podcast of the Lotus Eaters, whose name momentarily escapes me, when the devil tempted me. The Lotus Eater was in town doing some filming for a documentary he’s making about Ireland, but had no idea about the (media-generated and spurious) ‘controversy’ surrounding the festival until I told him about the events of the past month. Some more people, recognising his face, butted in and buttonholed him, so I stepped back to survey the street, which was rapidly filling up with happy-looking people. In their midst, however, were four whose humourless visages suggested potential trouble. Among the small group, a tall spindly woman with a bouffant hairdo, and a wreathed straois on her face, came towards me holding up a sign that said, ‘Hope Not Hate’, which I recognised as the name of an extreme communist organisation from the UK, affiliated to and funded by the UK Labour Party, which purports to oppose fascism while actually enacting it, and in its spare time defends child groomers and rapists. The woman was flanked by two acolytes with somewhat less self-assured expressions, and a third individual bearing a camera phone with obvious intent. When the bouffanted woman shoved her sign in my face, I abandoned my firm purpose of non-engagement. Breaking my own rule, I said: ‘You know, the only one here exhibiting hatred is yourself.’ She smirked a watery smirk and said something I didn’t catch about ‘far right’. A profoundly original mind, withal, I thought to myself. At that moment, she started to move closer and I noticed the acolyte with the camera phone lining up to take the photograph that would be used to demonstrate their resilience in the teeth of defeat, so I turned and walked back indoors, but not before my guardian angel would send me a message. Just inside, one of the security team who had been observing events stopped me and said, ‘John, you shouldn’t engage with those people, it only encourages them!’

The mood in the immediate vicinity of the venue was upbeat and, on the part of the locals, mostly welcoming. People returning from pubs, cafés and restaurants reported being greeted with courtesy and good humour all over town. I heard a few tales of encounters with youngsters, especially young women, who seemed to have swallowed the ‘far right’ smear, but most people are way past that now, although the journaliars have yet to get the memo saying ‘cop the fcuk on!’

Our event at 2.30pm went off well, at least when measured by the feedback. There were some issues of a presentational nature: it would have been better to have Thomas Sheridan, Kevin Flanagan and myself on stage all at once and just throw the ball in, rather than seriatim like in a confessional. A couple of trolls popped their heads up at the end, asking ridiculous questions and spreading snide innuendos, but I’m well used to that kind of thing and was able to deal with it pretty deftly, if I do say so myself. The most irritating thing is when people suggest that we shouldn’t be ‘sitting around talking’, but should be ‘doing something’. Whenever you ask them what we should be ‘doing’, they lose their tongues. Of course, as I pointed out, talking is doing — it’s the most important element of consciousness-raising, which is the sole route to recovering our lives and our country.

****

This year, on September 19th at the same venue, I hope (health improvement permitting) to conduct a conversation with the wonderful Neil Oliver, the legendary Scottish shaman of the Covid years, the most passionate and articulate voice of the current British public conscience.

In this video, Stephen Kerr announces Neil Oliver as this year’s Mise Éire headliner.

We have not yet discussed our themes, but anyone who’s seen any of our recent YouTube engagements will know what to expect.

A couple of samples:

Click here to purchase Mise Éire tickets (miseeire.ie)

And here’s a list of some of the other speakers and their topics:

Totalitarianism, War, and Resistance in the Post-Covid Era

David A. Hughes — click here

*

Replacement Immigration and the Islamisation of Europe

Simon Elmer — click here

*

The System Is Already Here: Digital Identity, Interoperability and the Smart Society

Melissa Ciummei — click here

*

Sovereignty Starts With Your Nervous System

Ronan O Brien (Breathwave Ireland) — click here

*

Grow, Gather, Prepare: Food Security for Uncertain Times

Sue McMillan (Ballagh Farm Shop) — click here

Luke Ó hErodáin (Celtic Fox) — click here

*

Homeopathy, Natural Health, & Practical Solutions For Individuals, Families & Homesteads.

Jenn Ryan & Laura Oestreich — click here

*

Raising Wildly Healthy Children: Food, Nature & Traditional Healing for Modern Families

Aisling Fitzgibbon — click here

*

The Path of the Forgotten Horses: Building Éire’s Greatest Equine Healing Centre

Sean Kilkennyy — click here

*

Physical and Mental Strength in Times of Tyranny

Ivor Cummins — click here

*

Can Brehon Law Save Ireland Today?

Kevin Flanagan — click here

*

Solutions to Escape the Digital Matrix — Mayo’s Boycott, Davitt’s Speech, Daly’s Media, Gold & Silver

Mark O’Byrne + panel

To buy John a beverage, click here

If you are not a full subscriber but would like to support my work on Unchained with a small donation, please click on the ‘Buy John a beverage’ link above.

Click here to purchase Mise Éire tickets (miseeire.ie)

Image:  finstocker/Vecteezy

Confusion Allowed

The is my first Substack post for either two months or three, depending on how you’re counting. I actually suspended my Substack at the beginning of May, due to a very serious and mysterious illness, but was forced to publish an unscheduled defence of my Substack brand name at the end of that month — successfully, as it turned out. This post, too, is in a sense unscheduled, coming about purely because Neil Oliver invited me to have a conversation with him on his YouTube channel, and, as Neil likes to keep things more or less within the hour, I agreed. In part, it was a toe-in-the-waters exercise, because both the illness and the mystery remain, although I have been improving under some headings in the past fortnight or so. But I still don’t have a certified name for whatever it is that ails me. Hence, I’m nowhere near ready to resume the workload I’d been accustomed to bearing since I launched this platform six years ago, and nor can I be certain that I shall every regain even that limited quantum of energy. I hope I do, but cannot count on it. I continue to have excursions to the hospital and conversations with specialists who decline to wander outside their particular portfolios, which has possibly been the chief explanation for the endurance of the mystery factor. It may well be that I shall have to reassess my role and output on Substack, perhaps with a view to tailoring my cloth according to my new measure, but I don’t plan to make a definitive decision on that for the immediate future. I have, I believe, promised a review of the situation come September, and I’m hoping for some more progress in my state of health by that time.

Anyway, it feels good to be back, even if only briefly.

The conversation — which I know some of you will have heard already — is, I think, rather good. Neil and I have done a couple of previous ‘chats’ (it’s no secret that I hate that word in this context!) but I believe this is the best, and the rather impressive viewing numbers seem to bear me out. We tend not to start out with any specific plan, but to follow the line of our own thinking as we go. What I particularly like about this particular conversation is that, rather than ‘commentating’ or ‘opinionating’, it has us speaking as two guys shooting the breeze in a manner that is honest and unaffected. Neil and I disagree along the way, but not in a dogmatic way. I need his optimism right now, at the very least to challenge my darker thoughts. And yet, there is ample evidence and reason to be despondent, though I’m inclined, on my better days, to think that we have a better chance of facing what might happen if we treat the cloud that;s been cast over our world as the imposter that every fibre of my being wishes it to be.

Personally, I’ve gotten to the stage where I’m not sure what I feel about anything that’s happening. Am I an optimist or a pessimist? Do I have what it takes to go on? Could I bear being in the world and not be fighting for the chances of my beloved ones to have life even remotely as satisfying as the one I’ve had myself? Could I possibly embrace the ‘quiet life’ that some many my well-intentioned friends and loved ones urge upon me?

I dunno. But talking to Neil reassures me that my (temporary?) confusion is nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve no doubt that my state of health has a great deal to do with it, though this may be in part because my current weakness has lowered the defences of my denial, having me standing before the inevitability of what is threatened. In any event, I am immensely grateful to have the opportunity to speak with people like Neil again, and hope that I can gradually and gingerly continue to test the temperature of the water, and one fine day take that leap of faith that my current fragility renders so daunting. I hope it will be soon.

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The reason this photograph is small is because its subjects are.

‘Let’s just loot everything and laugh!’

There was a moment or two there in late May when it looked as if the centenary month in celebration of Fianna Fáil and its founding ethos of chicanery and low-dealing would go unmarked, if not unremarked. There have, it is true, been episodes hinting at that tradition for duplicity and mendacity with a wink and a slap on the back. Bertie Ahern had it both ways on Muslims and Sharia Law, and got clean away with the idea that, in slagging off the Congolese, he was really worried about the quality of their accommodation. Next thing he is in Croke Park as an honoured guest of the Islamic Athletic Association. Win(k)!

But none of these was what might be called a spectacular act of dishonesty-with-a-smirk of the kind that has made Fianna Fáil’s reputation what it became. May entered its dying hours, and still no champion emerged of the underhanded arts with which the Soldiers of Destiny had graced our politics and public life for a century, rarely failing to step forward to do a truly indecent thing and walk off laughing and yahooing.

It came down to the final weekend, just three days to go, leaving mere hours in which those momentous events that began at 3.30pm on May 16th 1926, at La Scala Theatre in Dublin, with a speech by Eamon de Valera and free-admission for all, in which the party of all parties launched itself on to the turbulent waves of Irish realpolitik/doublethink. It seemed only riight and appropriate that this moment might be marked in a manner commensurate with the party’s dubious contribution to Irish life, culture and mores.

Up stepped the svelte figure of Sarah Ryan, able and unfussy accomplice/sidekick and/or partner-in-crime of John McGuirk, late of Gript Media, to assist in carrying out the symbolic, ritualistic stroke by which this sterling moment might suitably be signalled and honoured.

The celebratory event or incident needed to be something shady; something dark and even dastardly; something underhanded and foul in every conceivable way. But Sarah Ryan, who acquires her standing in this matter by virtue of being the great-granddaughter of a founding member of Fianna Fáil, who very likely was present at the La Scala meeting, a man who once bore proudly the name of James Ryan, and who begat a son called Eoin Ryan, who carved out a modest career as a Fianna Fáil senator in the 1970s, and who in his turn begat a son also called Eoin Ryan, a strangely decent and likeable man, who served terms as a Fianna Fáil TD for Dublin South East and later as an MEP for Dublin, and in his time would become even better known for being the father of Sarah Ryan, the woman who would outdo all the pantomine villians of a century of skulduggery.

The evidence indicates that all three of the aforementioned Ryan forebears were respectable and honest men, and this had the disadvantage that the record did not in any regard qualify their names to be used to celebrate the sly and underhanded manner of dealing with facts and reality which had become the stock-in-trade of Fianna Fáil in its hundred years of stroking. This required something else, something in keeping with a different kind of Fianna Fáil personality — perhaps along the lines of the ‘ethos’ of John McGuirk, who briefly laboured as a national Ógra (youth) organiser for the party, until required to resign in 2004, arising mysteriously from a leaking of emails, following which he briefly joined the party as an adult member, but was required to resign again in 2007 following another mysterious administrative misunderstanding. As things were developing, it appeared not that McGuirk was so much unqualified to be a representative of FF’s underhanded ethos, but that he may have been somewhat overqualified for such a position. Cometh the moment, cometh the sleaze.

This week McGuirk came into his own, manifesting the FF ethos in a manner calculated to bring a tear to the eye of the Long Fellow, of whom it was once enviously observed that, if he ate nails, ‘he’d shite screws’. With the clock ticking, it must be conceded, the adequate marking of the centenary of FF skullduggery presented quite the challenge, even for someone as twisted and nasty as McGuirk. That was going to require something way beyond the imaginations of such dynasties as the Ryans and the Lemasses and the Lenihans, even the Haugheys, the Burkes or the Flynns. But Sarah and her accomplice, McGuirk, were not lacking in resourcefulness or unscrupulousness, whatever may be said about their creative imaginations.

Determined to continue their cringe-inducing, flesh-crawl-initiating ‘banter’ despite their ejection from Gript Media, they put their minds to targeting and usurping the online platforms of an elderly man, a pensioner, who just three weeks earlier had announced that he was having to suspend all his platforms for the remainder of the summer in order to get appropriate attention and treatment for a serious though as yet undiagnosed illness. What could be more perfect for a couple of FF opportunists? They would simply move, cuckoo-like into the platform this doughty pensioner had created and pretend they had built it themselves.

The title of the platform included the name of the pensioner in question and the word ‘Unchained’, inspired by the Johnny Cash classic, which I invite you to listen to here, by way of a break from this sordid saga:

Ryan and her Highwayman companion saw their chance. Barrelling in like (Pee) Flynn, they appropriated the title, brand, and, to the best of their endeavours, the accumulated audience of the platforms built up by said pensioner, John Waters (for it is I), over a period of slightly less than six years, in the teeth of intimidation, censorship and lawfare, announcing that they were going to launch ‘their own platform’ under the same brand, title and logo as mine, and the usual to the begrudgers. Why not? Isn’t that the modern way? If something is there, why not steal it? Why invent, create or build something of your own if you can take what another has built from the ground up? In other domains, this is known as intellectual property theft, but in Fianna Fáil, the rule is: ‘What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is my own.’ This is the line that most rapidly brings a smirk and a chortle to every set of open-mouthed, toothless, watching FF lips from the stalls at the Árd Fheis. But why not, since all bets are off and everyone else has his head in the trough already? ‘Let’s just loot everything and laugh!’ This was the Fianna Fáil we remembered and relished — the pullers of strokes, the chancers, the hail fellows well met, the cute hoors with the tics and the twitches and the winks that could mean anything or nothing, and the trick was that no one could tell the difference either way.

This is no mean achievement for a woman of delicacy like Sarah Ryan’s, although it came easier to McGuirk, a man of no qualities. Far more significant is the contribrution and gracing aspect provided by his female accompice, who had been passing herself off as a nice girl next door. Here, she has won her stripes and stands, as a consequence of her pluck and nonchalance, as the fairy at the very top of the dung heap that is modern Ireland in the post-plague years, after a century of FF dominance. In her disregard for the fact that she had surrendered herself and her reputation in a moronic moment of vile plagiarism and passing off — to say nothing of daylight burglary — Sarah Ryan extravagantly imported the darkest elements of FF unscrupulousness into the second quarter of the 21st century, and set the bar for success in the century coming as well.

I do not think or mean to suggest that Sarah Ryan’s FF forebears would be proud of her. From everything I know about them — and I once knew her father slightly — they were upright men who would have had no truck with lowlifes like John McGuirk. In any event, such serious men were too solemn and earnest to be invited to participate in the vandalisation of Ireland or its transformation into a gay international disco and gambling casino. Times change and needs must. The gap cried out to be filled, and Sarah Ryan, by helping to conceive and perpetrate what can truly be described as an act of the purest Fianna Fáil crookedness and cunningness, boldly stepped over the corpses of her more reticent forebears to put the stamp of FF fraudulence on the month of its centenary celebration. In doing so, she perpetrated a theft as criminal as if she had broken into a bank and forced open an ATM with a screwdriver, not forgetting to wink at the unsuspecting security official on the way out. Thus, she has taken her rightful place at the very centre of modern Ireland’s metastasisation of evil, the driving dynamic of ‘progress’ in our sad country today.

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Thank you.

While I am here, I’ll give what information I have by way of update on my condition. There isn’t much. I still have no diagnosis, although there is all manner of speculation based on as yet inconclusively analysed blood tests.Some of the speculation is off-the-charts scary, but luckily there are voices of calm who say that blood tests have been known to be wrong. To a high degree, the delays are — predictably — down to the Third World condition of the Irish health services. i did encounter one doctor, a Syrian — one of the calmer observers — who has been conducting a thorough process of elimination, and he hopes to have more concrete information early next week, based on new blood tests he took last Monday. But, right now, I am none the wiser than I was a month ago, on May 1st, when my condition forced me to suspend this platform indefinitely, and cause me to carelessly leave it without a night watchman. I can report some slight signs of recovery, which I put down to the action of an antibiotic prescribed by the Syrian doctor for a non-specific infection he detected in my system. This appears to have prompted some slow improvement. But the word from everyone, calm and otherwise, is that this may be peripheral to the overall story.

Yeats portrait by Michael Hawthorne

Can the Centre hold? If so, which Centre?

A conversation with Neil Oliver and a message to my readers concerning a moment of personal crisis.

‘I wonder if people’s tolerance for the nonsense, you know, has just reached a point. I think it’s troubling that we are so long down the road. It’s just gone on and on and on and, you know, it just wears people down. Now, when you go back into the question of the excess deaths, I mean it has puzzled me for so long, you know, how somebody can deal with it. I mean to deal with, say, the death of a child is like it’s just about the worst thing you ever . . . that will ever happen.Right? We don’t even want to think about it in those terms. But to think about it and when there’s even the germ of a suggestion that this didn’t have to happen, that it wasn’t some Act of God it wasn’t, you know. “hard luck” — it wasn’t an accident; that this was actually what we knew it was: a bioweapon designed to kill. Now I don’t know how somebody comes out of that at all, but I certainly don’t know how they stay in it without speaking, and so many people have gone through that in the last five years, and they haven’t spoken about it. Almost nobody has spoken about it, as far as I know nobody voluably —  they’ve been silenced or bought off, or whatever, but there have been no famous whistleblowers about this, unless you know some that I don’t, and yet the figures are there and the figures are irrefutable, because at the very start of all this it was said again and again that the measure of this “pandemic” would be the number of excess deaths. Well, there are excess deaths, but there were none during the pandemic. They came after and nobody wants to talk about them. And the journalists who told us that every life mattered, every life matters, you know, for a full year, now tell us, implicitly, these lives don’t matter. I don’t know how that works. I don’t know how people can live with that and not scream the place down, not pull the head off some politician by the ears.’

— John Waters

‘You can tell people whatever you want to tell people, but actions obviously speak louder than words and people can see that events are unfolding around them. I’m increasingly turning away from, um, loud and definite. You know that thing about . . . your countryman’s line about “the best lack all conviction, but the worst are filled with passionate intensity”. I don’t listen to passionate intensity much anymore. I’m drawn to people who have grown quietly quizzical, uncertain, and their uncertainty, I think, is a manifestation of questions that maybe they’re asking themselves, but to a greater or lesser extent, they haven’t quite worked up the energy to ask other people, but that the questions are out there. And I think I think those questions are manifesting in best lacking all conviction.’

— Neil Oliver

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Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

— ‘The Second Coming, W. B. Yeats

Notice to Readers

As I wrote in a message delivereed on Friday lasr to full members of John Waters Unchained I am having radically to reduce my workload for health reasons. This will affect primarily my weekly, diaries, which I have now put on ice for a few months due to the onset of a very debilitating, persistent and worrying illness.

I do not yet have a name for the condition that assails me. It is reminiscent of several conditions I suffered from before, but does not coincide fully with any of these. One symptom is that my energy levels, already in single digits, have utterly collapsed. This has happened gradually over the past month — since just before Easter — and at first seemed to be just standard exhaustion. In the past week, however, it has become clear that something more sinister may be in train, as I have been encountering difficulties with the most fundamental functions: walking, eating, drinking, lifting, even typing for more than short periods. I have found myself either unable to get out of bed or, on succeeding, spending several hours crawling around, wishing to just throw myself on to the floor and lie there for the remainder of time. My appetite has disappeared: there is almost nothing I can persuade myself to eat, and mostly I eat almost nothing. I have had to cease virtually all work-related activities, with the exception of a couple of recent interviews which had been arranged for some time, and which I managed to get through in the past week without seeming like I was impersonating a dead man talking. When I have achieved a basic level of recovery, I plan to turn to return to work on a gradualist basis. Meanwhile, there may be some gaps in the output published here — usually comprising essays and videos — but I hope and expect that thiis will even out in a few weeks or months.

I thank you all, from the depths of my soul, for being with me on this voyage through the Unknowable. I thank you for your loyalty and constant support. These have been special years in my life. I say this purely for the record, even though I do not know what the future holds, so people should not read overmuch into it. What I know is that, for the next few months, I have to radically reduce my workload, to give myself a breathing space to allow me to recover (should that be possible). I shall, of course, continue to lurk inside my Substack premises by candlelight, albeit on a reduced basis. I’ll still post videos and write occasional articles, though of relatively modest length, and without a paywall, as in any event I have been doing for the past almost seven years. I’ll also post occasional bulletins conveying any news of my state of health, and prospects for a return to maximum effectuality. Please stick around.

* This is an abridged version of a message sent to paid subscribers last Friday

Portrait by Richard Gallagher

In recent times, I have occasionally speculated about the possibility that my weekly Diary of a Dissenter may be reaching the end of its natural life. This has been for various reasons: my advancing years, the scale of the weekly effort involved, the continuing ethical retreat of Substack from its high founding principles, a…

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‘The Town Crier Was Always Working For the Establishment‘

With E.M. Burlingame and John Waters

(Recorded Sunday, April 26th, 2026)

‘Journalism has always been the mouthpiece of govennment, And the thought and idea that it hasn’t is ludicrous, It’s just that it just that govrrnment used to not need to be so scared of its people.’

Watch “Organic Feudalism | John Waters & EM Burlingame, on YouTube

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Age of Pinocchios

This week’s diary post may be too long for the Substack newsletter format. If you’re reading it as an email and it tails off unexpectedly, please click on the headline at the top of the page to be taken to the full post at Substack.

FRIDAY

A letter awaits on my arrival in Maugherow, from the Advertising Standards Authority, if you don’t m…

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1. Hearts of Oak

‘We’re sometime inclined to get into an organic discussion abut facts and circumstances, forgetting momentartily that this is all orchestrated, that this is a cunning plan.’

2. Swedish Free Press

Interview by Viktor Eriksson, editor-in-chief of the Swedish newspaper Frihetsnytt, with a reach of over 2 million people in Sweden alone, bu which also publishes an English translation and strives to reach a broader international audience. Frihetsnytt values freedom of speech and strives to present perspectives that challenge the dominating media narrative in Sweden.

In this video, Viktor questions me about the latest news from Ireland. .

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Two faces of a clown tyrant

1. Coffee and a Mike, with Michael Yon

(Recorded Saturday, April 11th)

‘Our side are the bad guys!’

The coin is finally dropping: the once ‘Free West’ is now the habitat of the world’s most unspeakable tyrants.

You’re either going to defend it or you’re going to be a slave or you’re just going to be destroyed. I think the Irish are going to be destroyed. Actually, I think the intent is for the Irish to be destroyed and replaced. I think it’s quite clear.’ — Michael Yon

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2. Tommy’s Podcast: John Waters & EM Burlingame

(Recorded Tuesday, April 7th)

‘Stop chasing crazy!’

What if the ‘madness’ of our societies, which we tend to place in scare-quotes, is actual, literal insanity?

We didn’t somehow miraculously — by closing the insane asylums, of which there used to be a substantive number — we didn’t reduce the number of the insane.’ — EM Burlingame

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Men of Iron

This week’s diary post may be too long for the Substack newsletter format. If you’re reading it as an email and it tails off unexpectedly, please click on the headline at the top of the page to be taken to the full post at Substack.

SATURDAY

Today is the day Poppy, Kojak and their parents are to join us for Easter, and we awaken to a powerless …

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The Burkes: Guardians Of Our Peace

Over the past three and a half years, Christian Morris and I have engaged on his channel in several in-depth explorations of the Enoch Burke saga, always from the perspective that — as has been obvious from the outset to anyone who cared to investigate the facts and history of the dispute between Enoch and Wilson’s Hos…

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Between the Street and the Sky

As I child I had what I thought was this normal idea: I was unique. I used to marvel at the idea that, out of all the aeons of time, I happened to be here now, inside the structure of my body, looking out. I wondered if other people had the same wonder, but, even when imagined I had successfully explained the idea to them, they tended to look at me blankly, as if they had never thought of themselves as different to other people in that they were first persons whereas everyone else was, or appeared to be, third persons, walking around the face of the planet as human beings had done for a few million years.

Still, I couldn’t get over the fact that I was ‘in here’, as opposed to just another of those ‘out there’. I used to wonder if something had happened to the brains of other people to stop them wondering about this, or even being aware of it. All the time, from as far back as I can remember, I had a sense that I had been created by someone or something, and nothing I have heard or read since, of biology, evolutionary theory or history, has convinced me that this perception was not, in the most fundamental sense of things, correct.

My father was born beside the sea in Sligo, but still I did not see the sea until I was nearly 20. Now I see the sea continuously from my back window and could not be without it. From my living room, perched high on Dalkey Hill, I look over Dun Laoghaire Harbour and across to Howth. On a clear day, I can see the Mountains of Mourne, head raised ghostily over Sutton.

At my front door I look on to Dalkey Quarry. Sometimes, especially on Tuesday nights in summertime, I stand at my front door listening to the voices of the rock-climbers in the quarry, invisibly calling to each other across the rock, and once again I cannot believe my luck in being here now, at this moment, of all the moments of Time, those that have appeared to pass and those I have been led to believe are yet to come.

Sometimes, as we come to the end of a rough winter, when the winds have pummelled us from the north and the east, and we have stayed indoors more than is natural in such a place, I find myself walking again across Dalkey Hill, as though for the first time. It is not a place you can take for granted. Walking off Torca Road, where George Bernard Shaw once lived, and along a path that weaves its way around the side of the hill, you suddenly emerge on to a vista that some people claim to be more beautiful than the Bay of Naples. Whether it is or not does not matter: this is beauty you cannot ignore.

Every time I come across it, even after a few days’ break, I think, ‘How could I have forgotten this? Why have I been neglecting to come out and look at such an extraordinary place?’ Walking home each time, I am visited by the same thoughts, as I try to retrace the steps which brought me here from the flatlands of County Roscommon and enabled me to call this my home. The beauty of this place seems to challenge something in me that seeks to normalise everything, to pretend that experience can be taken for granted as the natural order of things. Each time, something in the encounter seems to draw me back to a faint awareness of some prior consciousness, reminding me that I have a broader existence in both Time and Space.

Strangely, too, a collateral benefit of these rather enhanced experiences of beauty seems to be the opening up of my eyes to the beauty of Roscommon as well, so nowadays I am far more inclined than previously to be struck by the raw beauty of parts of my native county, pausing by the roadside at its northeasternmost corner to gaze across a misty Lough Arrow, or just standing on the back road behind the house where I grew up, in Castlerea at the heart of the county, to gaze in awe at the landscape I played in as a child, its long wild, communal gardens converging into the Suck River Valley stretching to the Dublin-Westport railway line beyond.

When I say ‘beauty’ I mean something deeper than I am capable of conveying in words. It is a kind of recognition, a sense of some broader and more tranquil existence, a sense of being perfectly at home.

Dalkey represents for me much more than aesthetic beauty. It is a place where I can encounter the wilderness, albeit in a distilled form, and yet live near to the street. Both aspects are, I think, vital to me. People who think they know where I come from always seem to regard me in a certain way because I come from what they call ‘The Country’. But I come from no such place. When I was a child growing up in Castlerea, I lived on Main Street, which, when I think about it now, had about it the qualities of a short stretch of city. It had a roadway with near constant traffic which I could listen to as I fell asleep. It had those incessant sounds that make the city live in the imagination as much as in space, the sound of Guinness barrells being unloaded at dawn and the drone of a train in the distance. It had the regular lines of the steetscape, the calculated bends and ordered corners, the footpaths and road markings, the signposts which tell you where to go, which create a kind of box for your humanity that both contains and seems to explain it. It had the Fair Green, two churches, a couple of small cafes, where the people congregated in various dispositions. It had shops where you could get food, ice cream, things to read or wear, and where you could get your shoes repaired or your radio fine-tuned and where the shop assistants multi-tasked as they talked to their customers about the life they shared without questioning it much.

When I walked out my back door, I was in the wilderness. The gardens behind our houses had long since run into one wide continuity, bordered at the end by the river, which had an island in the middle that you could access by means of a tree felled on the town side. It only now occurs to me that, as a child, this wild place existing so close to the beat of the street was fundamental to my formation in accordance with my nature and structure. The street sought to seduce me to a new reality, but the condensed wilderness of those gardens kept me in touch with what is infinite within myself. I used to walk around with my life’s companion, Fumble, a skinny, ugly, but intensely loyal animal, a dog trapped in the body of a cat. Usually I carried an iron staff, a spear, and we would go hunting together, s though we had walked straight from the pages of Huckleberry Finn or Just William. And in the eternity of a summer’s afternoon, I would lie in the hollow of the island with Fumble purring at my head, utterly alone in the human universe, connected to the sky and the core of the earth, part of the continuity of Time and yet momentarily resting on some cosmic journey. Then I would return to the street and be seduced once more.

There is something about a town, especially a town of a certain size, that touches me as nothing else does. There are few things I enjoy more than going to a new town, or better still an old town I haven’t seen for a while, for any old excuse, staying overnight and just walking about looking at how the town fits together. Cities do something to me also, but the draw of cities is, I suspect, more superficial, seeming to be fundamentally about sex, whereas the excitement of what we call towns is about a more subtle form of attraction. It has to do with the history and taste of a community, of the interaction of the lives of people largely unrelated but connected by space and story. To look at any town, even one without a formally recorded history, is to know that it has seen both great sorrow and great happiness. A town has a visible DNA which bears the record of its backstory, expressed in incongruous ways: the juxtapositioning of bingo hall and funeral home, the bright colours of the jolly-mixture town houses like facepainted children on the verge of laughter or tears, the church at the centre, the graves ranged behind, perpetual reminders of the open wound that marks or mars the fate of mankind.

There is a particular time when the town comes into its own: on a fine summer’s evening in the hour or two before nightfall. This is when the magic is most potent, when the inhabitants come out devoid of business sense and move in that golden light in a way that hints at something deeper in their togetherness. I like to watch them call to each other across the street and guess at their relationships. I am enchanted by the sense of their collective ownership of their surroundings, which varies greatly from town to town. The city does not have this, except in a more localised neighbourhood sense that you occasionally stumble into, and the countryside is too sparsely peopled for such intimacy. The town, therefore, is the repository of community in its purest essence, a physical representation of the togetherness wrought by fundamentally alike people who live, by a combination of accident and design, side-by-side.

Sometimes I go into the centre of Dublin, where I once lived for a while too, and walk from my former home on Grattan Street, which I shared with a friend from home for a while in my thirties, to Baggot St Bridge. I sit on the bench beside the bronze statue of Patrick Kavanagh and watch the moving water of the canal and think of time passing and growing old and getting what is called sense and finally learning, after Kavanagh, not to care about anything except whatever place I may have in the greater scheme of things.

I look at the lunchtime hordes streaming through the ancient streets of the city and reflect that these streets, which were here before us, will be here long after we go wherever it is we are going. They are older than the oldest of us and younger than the youngest. They have their own mortality, but it is not ours. And that thought always momentarily fills me with a kind of grief, because I cannot be a building or a tree. But this thought is wiped away by another: the idea that I have a kind of dominion here. I see the potential for hubris with which the city is immanent at all times: the ancient city, even while telling me of my transience, also tells me that reality is defined by man’s achievements.

I remember the first day I came to Dalkey, in 1990, when I began house-hunting after getting my first real journalism job, with the Irish Times. My initial encounter was with Castle Street, with its castellated walls and mid-morning hum of life. There was a tiny cafe then just opposite the Ulster Bank, and I went in and had a cup of tea and a bun. I had come purely out of curiosity, my house-buying budget seemingly dictating that I live somewhere else. But those twenty minutes looking out on the life of that Dalkey street was enough to convince me that this is where I should stay. I had no idea how I was going to do it, but I knew I was going to live here.

Eventually, putting my shirt on the line, I bought the cottage on Ardbrugh Road where I imagine I will stay for as long as this cosmic pause endures. The street is a little more distant than that of my childhood, but, although I cannot hear the Guinness barrels clatter onto the concrete, I can see the distant and reassuring movements of Castle Street from my attic window.

In the night, I hear occasional cars passing by my bedroom, enough to half-wake me occasionally to the sense that I have regressed forty years. And then, the car having disappeared into the infinity of sound, my ear shifts to the wilderness just across the road, to the pre-dawn chorus and the hum of the other reality. I stand at the door on a summer’s evening listening to the rock-climbers and sometimes fancy I hear the purr of a cat who thinks he’s a dog, and have to pinch myself awake. If I half close my eyes, I might be under Ben Bulben.

My father was born at the foot of Ben Bulben, the mountain made world famous by William Butler Yeats, who is buried at its foot in Drumcliffe. Every day of his childhood, when he walked out his front door, my father would have been as aware as Yeats ever was of the presence, to the east, of the most majestic and mysterious mountain in the world.

Ben Bulben from afar

I never thought of my father as connected with the sea. He had about him a sense that he came from someplace exotic, but he never talked about the sea, or implied any special knowledge of it. He did, however, talk about the mountain. I remember the words ‘Ben Bulben’ as signifying something pride-inducing and yet having about them a tinge of regret.

When I set eyes on Ben Bulben I felt instantly its uniqueness and its mystery. It’s as though something had been practising to create the perfect mountain — and here, just once, has almost succeeded. This feeling is beyond mere ‘love of nature’, an attraction so deep it feels like deeper kinds of love. It provokes in me a Yes — but one that is at first ambiguous. Could it be mere sentimentality, provoked by discovering this lost garden of my father? — or, something else?

When I watch the mountain from Lislary in the west, I see it like an animal in the middle distance, crouching, about to pounce. But, nearer, on the road to Grange, it rises above me, stately and proud, like something with a mind of its own. And not just a mind but an entire emotional apparatus that seems, strangely, quite like mine. More than any other mountain, I like to believe, Ben Bulben shares my humanity. In the veils of clouds that hang around his brow — in the light that plays tricks with time in the folds of his back — he mirrors my temperament and shares my joy or sadness. On a clear day, approaching from the east, to catch a glimpse on the horizon of that unique and noble profile (on a clear day you can glimpse it to the right just after Boyle) is to be transported as by the face of a true love.

The geological explanations for Ben Bulben’s existence — its shape, its geometric integrity — interest me a little, but not much, for such are merely superficial explanations born of the limited human intelligence. I need to know merely that Ben Bulben has come before me out of the cosmic order, to bear witness to the facts of existence, to assure me that there is an order and that it is not what I, left to my own devices, would have made or shaped. Ben Bulben is for me a sign, a nodding brow towards something infinitely great, an intelligence the human mind is too earthed to contemplate.

For Beauty is not a matter of aesthetic appreciation of shapes and colours, but the reawakening to the original Beauty whence we come. We rummage through the world for traces of it. Sometimes we catch a glimpse that keeps us going. Sometimes, because it is too much or too little, we turn away, or accept some plausible explanation rooted in aesthetics, or geology, or civilisation, or what is called science. But knowing is more than gathering information. Knowing is standing in awe before something that defies superficial expectations — because it strikes a chord in harmony with something deeper. The evidence we need is before our eyes, accessible not through comprehension, but through the sheer power of wordless wonder provoked in us by what is there. Only in wonder do we really see, because only wonder knows what we are looking for. We do not.

But strangely, it is in the street rather than the wild that the pure condition of man can sometimes become most strikingly visible. It is there, in moments of repose, caught in the contradiction between his place in nature and his place in his own schemes, between his createdness and his own striving to control, that man occasionally emerges from the murk of civilisation to become visible in his pure state.

One Friday afternoon in the autumn of 2008, when my daughter was twelve years old, we were driving through Dublin city on the way to the airport, when a strange thing occurred between us. The traffic was heavy and we were making slow progress, but we had plenty of time before our flight and so were enjoying the trip, talking intermittently as we do and otherwise listening to Johnny Cash on the CD player. In one of the silences while Róisín was changing the CD, I became aware, at a bus stop just ahead of us on the right, of a scene that struck me in some exceptional but not in an immediately identifiable way. Paused in the line of cars, I idly directed my attention at the tableau. There were perhaps a dozen people, mainly adults but also a couple of schoolchildren in uniform, all waiting for the next bus. What was remarkable was that, at that moment, all of them were looking in our direction, though not exactly. Their gazes were directed upwards, just above our heads, or the tops of the line of cars — perhaps craning to read the numbers on one of the buses coming towards them. But in this brief instant it occurred to me that I was looking at one of those occasional moments when life betrays its inner meaning and briefly lapses into the demeanour of art. If I had been a photographer, I would have grabbed my camera, jumped out and captured this instant. A painter would have soaked the scene into his memory and gone away to recreate it as close to exactly as it was.

What I was seeing, I realised, could be described in two ways, and it was this dualism that made it striking. One the one hand, one could easily come up with a prosaic description of the scene: a dozen or so harried commuters waiting for a bus. This would be the everyday interpretation of the signs contained in the scene, the significance our culture leads us to draw from scenes as we go around our cities in the citizen’s general condition of metaphysical numbness, reading the signs and the lines and the lights so as to find the quickest way to where we want to go. But what made the scene exceptional was that it also contained a different pattern: something deeper and more resonant. Drinking it in, I became conscious that I was momentarily observing a number of human beings in something like their pure existential state, stripped of the meanings which become attached to us in consumer/commercial/political society. They were waiting for a bus, yes, but also no. They were waiting. Full stop; new sentence. They were gazing upwards in anticipation of something. And, looking at this dozen or so people looking upwards, I became aware that it was possible to see them, almost simultaneously, in these two different ways — that it was actually possible to ‘flip’ backwards and forwards between the two interpretations, now seeing them as commuters waiting for public transport, but then, instantly, seeing them anew as human beings caught in a moment of repose in the midst of existences mysterious and brief and shockingly beautiful.

I sat almost hypnotised by the scene, overcome by its beauty and significance. And then, beside me, my daughter spoke: ‘Dad’, she said, ‘why do people in the city look so different from people in the country?’

Already moved by what I was seeing, I now almost burst into tears. It was all I could do to ask her what she meant, though I sensed immediately what she was asking. We had never spoken of these matters in such terms before, but, in the course of a brief exchange, which scratched around the surface of the moment, I established that she had seen the same thing I had, in much the same way, and had been struck by it also.

Relentless Rain

SATURDAY

I’ve been picking up rumblings about some football match or other. Something to do with Ireland having been on the cusp of World Cup glory, followed hard by a general sense of let-down on account of a recent defeat on penalties by the boys from Czechia or the Czech Republic, or whatever it’s called these days. Call me a begrudger…

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1. Interview with Jana Lunden

(Wednesday, March 18th 2026)

Not Okay, Groomers!

The past few years have brought many bizarre and frequently obscene changes to the culture of my country, Ireland, and none has been more strange or disturbing than the programmes advanced by the lobby group with an occasionally varying nomenclature beginning with the letters ‘L…

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Home is where the hearth is

The Afterlife of Injustice

SUNDAY

There’s an event happening today over in James Conway’s, in Dromore West, which I gather is a kind of car boot sale for farmers, though with added attractions, like antique stalls and food vans and even, it is rumoured, a ‘car book sale’. Actually, I’ve just found the poster James sent me, wh…

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In conversaton with Neil Oliver and Tommy Coyle, and roving around James Conway’s farm with that ‘backward farmer’ for John Waters Unchained YouTube

1. Neil Oliver

Neil: ’Have we seen the depths of the darkness that folks like you and I sense —more than sense — or are we still plumbing the depths of that great ocean?’

John: ’I’m afraid we’re still plumbing . . . I think we haven’t seen the worst of it. We’ve only, in a certain sense, scratched the surface, because I detect that the forces behind this are so ruthless that they don’t care — they don’t have any love for the human race. I don’t know, are they themselves even members the human race, in some sense? Maybe a metaphorical sense only, but nevertheless that’s the way they see themselves. [. . . ] But I have found during the past six years that, sometime when I’m at a loss so explain myself or my feeling about certain kinds of people — politicians in particular, but also my so-called [former] colleagues in the so-called journalistic profession, that the only kind of metaphors I’m able to come up with are actually about aliens, almost like the cliched lizard — that I half expect, or at least I wouldn’t be surprised, if our Taoiseach/prime minister were to speak on TV one night on a live broadcast, and midway through the broadcast he would reach up and grab his forehand and pull it back to reveal a lizard head. I wouldn’t be shocked by that, because of his behaviour, because of his demeanour, because of the way he speaks to his own people.’

2. Tommy Coyle

‘We all have a kind of a Hollywood view of he world, in at the backs of our heads, in which the bad guys always get it. Like we think reality is like an episode of Columbo. We know who the bad guys are because they’re the guys who condescend to Columbo when he arrives in, and say something snarky to him. And then in the end he gets them: “Somethin’ bodders me Ma’am . . . You said something funny there ab0ut the Covid, about the pan-demic. What did you mean by that, Ma’am?”’ We want reality to be like that,’

3. James Conway on John Waters Unchained YouTube

At Home with The ‘Backward’ Farmer

‘The guy in the penthouse in London or New York doesn’t sleep at night. He has to chemical himself to function. The young prople are beginning to realise that this grandeur that was advertised to people over the years is nonsense. The real wealth is what we’re about do: go into your wife; sit down and have a sandwich; your kids are about to come home from school; you’ve fed the animals; you’ve had a lovely day. Like, I wouldn’t trade this for a corporate position, millions of pounds . . . Why? For what?’

‘Ye’re not going to kill me. I’m going to survive in spite of ye! ‘

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Resurrection

FRIDAY

This morning I’m out early on an errand such as I rarely find myself taking on these days. I am to meet a Danish student, who, along with another student, is doing a thesis on ‘immigration in Ireland’ for their Masters course in sociology, or some such, at the University of Roskilde. She has been given my number by a friend of mine, a…

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Oliver Cromwell defined his personal mission as being ‘to purify Israel,’ and to end what he called the ‘idolatrous’ and ‘blasphemous’ Catholic Mass, thus firmly echoing the words of the ‘holy’ rabbi Maimonides.

Holocaust by Famicide

IRELAND’S HOLOCAUSTS (MORE THAN A DOZEN, OR ELSE JUST ONE)

By Patrick O’Carroll

[This article may be too long for the Substack newsletter format. If you’re reading it as an email and it tails off unexpectedly, please click on the headline at the top of the page to be taken to the full post at Substack.]

• Patrick O’Carroll was the author of two previous guest articles on John Waters Unchained: ‘How British Intelligence planned the Irish “Troubles” of 1968-98 & used Provo fake-patriots to achieve the ruination of Ireland’, (September 2025); and ‘The PIRA/MI6 Conspiracy, Part 2’, (October 2025).

The Talmudic ‘new’ world order has already been demonstrated in Ireland for over 850 years. Unfortunately, it is necessary to know Irish history to really fathom why the Talmudic ‘new’ world order must be thwarted and reversed.

INTRO

In a Jan 1916 pamphlet The Murder Machine, Irish revolutionary Pádraig Mac Piarais said of the ulterior motives behind the many Holocausts and weaponized-famines (or ‘Famicides’) that the British Regime deployed in Ireland:

‘A French writer has paid the English a very well-deserved compliment. He says that they never commit a useless crime. When they hire a man to assassinate an Irish patriot … [or] when they produce a famine in one of their dependencies, they always have an ulterior motive. They do not do it for fun. Humourous as these crimes are, it is not the humour of them, but their utility, that appeals to the English.’

One bitter irony is that the Irish were really genocided by a gang of de-facto Jews calling themselves ‘Christians.’

The FOUR MAIN HALLMARKS of Ireland’s Dozen-Or-So Holocausts

The following aspects were the four SPECTACULAR HALLMARKS of Ireland’s roughly ‘Dozen or So’ Holocausts:

1. The first Talmudic Warfare in Christendom (Total War; Collective Punishment; Human Sacrifice), and the first Judaic Warfare in which modern armies attacked Christian Civilians with explicit orders to ‘Smite Amalek.’

2. The first Industrial Genocide in history. In an era when it was logistically hard to kill 1,000 victims, the ‘Holy’ Reformation managed to genocide 1.48 million Irish (#3 to #6 in the table below), but also to cover this up.

3. Genocide AND Cover-Up: Thanks to control over the mainstream media, ‘history’ books, and the ‘education’ system, Britain successfully covered up the ‘Dozen or So’ Irish Holocausts, blaming the biggest one (the 1845-52 genocide of circa 5 to 6 million mainly Irish-speaking Catholics) on a spurious ‘potato blight,’ and most of the others on ‘bad luck,’ ‘happenstance,’ ‘coincidence’ … Britain honed its talents for genocide and cover-up in Ireland and then redeployed these talents worldwide, most notably in India and China. Still today, few people (even British people) know of the more than 250 million victims worldwide who were genocided by Britain (shown in this graphic depicting the British Empire as former World Champion of Genocide: https://ibb.co/VccmGyjd).

4. Total Impunity: No one was ever brought to justice over these crimes, and no reparations will ever be paid.

A Note on ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’

By the reign of Victoria, the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy had so penetrated and undermined Anglicanism that Deacon John Henry Newman felt obliged to forsake it for Catholicism in 1845, later becoming a cardinal. Newman blamed the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy for his defection, and warned that there was a real danger that ‘British Israel would take over the Church of England’ (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Israelism). But Newman was a little late with this cognizance because the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy had already infested Anglicanism from Day-One in 1558, thus transforming it to ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’. It was thus clear from the very start that ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ was always following the Talmud and never the New Testament. The hard reality is that the Talmud commands the breach of all Ten Commandments (as detailed here: https://henrymakow.com/2025/06/-patrick-ocarroll--the-talmud-.html). The Talmud is essentially the satanic inversion of the Old Testament. And the ‘Judeo-British Empire’ was really based fundamentally on a combination of the Talmud and the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy.

Meanwhile, the black-magic Kabbalah made many British institutions Kabbalistic, most notably Freemasonry and the British Army. Kabbalah gives special knowledge to those dabbling in Satanism, notably about Demonology, Witchcraft, Black Magic, Placing Curses, Casting Spells, Fortune-Telling, Astrology, Gematria, and Necromancy.

The ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy is essentially a mental illness that claims that a ‘British Super-Race’ exists and that it is allegedly comprised of the ‘Real Israelites’ or ‘Real Jews,’ whose destiny is to rule the entire Earth from ‘Israel’ (its name for Britain). This is clearly in keeping with the Talmud, which says that the ‘Real Jews’ are foreordained to rule the whole world.

Originally, the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy was a weapon designed to bolster the idea that English monarchs were ‘justified’ in launching the ‘Holy’ Reformation because they were ‘of the Davidic Line’ and thus ‘above the Papacy.’ Furthermore, the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy claims that Britain (which it calls ‘Israel’) has some ‘Manifest Destiny’ that is somehow described in the Old Testament.

Some say Ireland had ONE CONTINUOUS HOLOCAUST for 752 years from 1169 until 1921. Others say there were a ‘Dozen or So’ Irish Holocausts. The following table only gives a rough overview. It is very hard to delineate between some Holocausts (e.g. the three in 1641-56 are lumped together). So, outside-observers may be apt to call it one endless Holocaust for 752 years, or else call it a ‘Dozen or So’ Irish Holocausts spread over the same period: https://ibb.co/WvmwPhx4.

The Judeo-British Empire also learned de-industrialization in Ireland, where it systematically ruined all Irish Catholic industries and trades (i.e. agriculture, fisheries, leatherworking, crafts, mining, ironworking, peat-harvesting, wool, linen). The British kept Irish Catholics quite literally as slaves (de facto and de jure) from 1558 until at least 1871, when the brutal Irish Penal ‘Laws’ finally ended. And, before that, most Irish had been ‘Nonpersons’ since 1172.

#1 GENOCIDE OF IRISH ‘NONPERSONS’ BY ENGLISH ‘ADVENTURERS,’ 1172-1558 (death-toll 200,000)

This particular 386-year Irish Holocaust was synopsized by Judge James George Maguire of San Francisco CA as follows: ‘For nearly 400 years, under all “their Catholic Majesties” from Henry II to Henry VIII, the Irish people, with the exception of five septs [the five Gaelic “bluebloods” known as the “Quinque Sanguinum”] were outlaws. They were murdered at will by their English Catholic neighbors in Ireland, and there was no law to punish their murderers.’ [Source: Page 33 of James George Maguire’s 1888 book ‘Ireland and the Pope’].

But, enslavement of the Irish in Ireland outlived English Catholicism; it lasted 621 years (1172 until 1793). It began when Henry II revoked the personhood of all Irish men and women in 1172 but, in the ensuing decade, restored it to five ‘bluebloods’ (O’Neill, O’Brien, O’Connor, O’Loughlin, Kavanagh-MacMurrough) by issuing them lavish so-called ‘Letters of Denization’ under what is generally referred to as his ‘Jus Quinque Sanguinum.’ All other Irish men and women were ‘legally’ defined as ‘perpetual enemies’ until 1793, when the Irish parliament (a corrupt and biased assembly run by, and for, the Anglican Slavers) finally restored personhood to all Irish Catholics under its Catholic Relief Act of 1793. Had Henry II defined them as ‘conquered enemies’ or ‘resident aliens,’ the Irish would have at least had SOME rights during those 621 years. Instead, they had absolutely no rights whatsoever. Furthermore, for six centuries, most Irish were ‘Nonpersons,’ which means they were both de-facto and de-jure SLAVES.

Anselm (born in Aosta-Italy) became England’s Archbishop of Canterbury in 1093, and he convened the 1102 Council of London, which was notable for issuing a decree against the slave-trade, although it actually failed to condemn the institution of slavery itself. Thus, when Henry II decreed in 1172 that most Irish men and women were ‘Nonpersons,’ this opened a ‘loophole’ whereby Canterbury’s slave-trade-’ban’ did NOT apply to most of the Irish.

Hence, by English ‘law,’ it was ‘legal’ for any Englishman to murder, rob, rape, or enslave any Irish ‘Nonperson.’ In 1465, under Edward IV, the City of Cork Act indirectly but effectively gave REWARDS for killing Irish people. If we (conservatively) estimate a death-toll of 1000 per year in the 386 years from 1172 till 1558, that would give us a total death-toll of about 400,000. But since England never controlled more than half of Ireland until after 1558, it is wiser to gauge 500, and not 1000, deaths per year here. Thus, our cautious estimate is ‘only’ circa 500 deaths per year and a total toll of 200,000 murdered. After the Burke Civil War of 1333-38 and the failure of the 1366 Statutes of Kilkenny, English control over Ireland diminished from roughly one-half to roughly one-third, which is depicted by the white areas of this map dated 1500: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Ireland_%281169%E2%80%931536%29#/media/File:Irelandmap1500.png.

In 1172-1558 too, because the Irish were ‘Nonpersons’ who had ZERO juridical protection, it was perfectly ‘legal’ for English ‘Adventurers’ to take Irish slaves and sell these captives to the slave-traders of Bristol and other ports, who would then sell them on, mainly to the Levant. A very cautious estimate is a total of 75,000 Irish slaves in those centuries. The word slave first entered English in circa 1250-1300. It was named for Europe’s Slavic regions and the Slavs who had, since the days of Charlemagne, been the single most-prized ‘commodity’ in the ‘slave sector.’

#2 THE BLACK DEATH OF 1348-53 (death-toll circa 30,000)

In Ireland, the Black Death was a relatively minor affair that killed few victims compared to Continental Europe, where it wiped out up to 40 percent of the population, i.e. a total victim-count of perhaps 25-30 million. As it turns out, the Black Death is recorded as Ireland’s smallest major Holocaust of all time. In fact, one of the most ironic conclusions is that, officially, the Irish suffered much less from the Black Death than they ever did from the English. Thus, maybe the Irish should say a BIG THANK-YOU to the Black Death for being much kinder and gentler to them than the English ever were? Haa-Haa-Haa-Haa-Haa-Haa-Haa …

The Black Death spread to Ireland via its major ports. Dublin’s death-toll was recorded as 14,000, with roughly the same number in the combination of Cork, Waterford, Youghal, Limerick, and Galway.

Other large death-tolls were recorded in minor-league places like Ennis, Roscommon, Clonmacnoise, Killala … But, the Gaelic population was not affected to the same extent as were the Anglo-Norman colonists in the major, mainly-coastal, urban hubs. English chronicler Geoffrey Le Baker reported: ‘The Plague killed the English inhabitants there in great numbers, but the native Irish, living in the mountains and uplands, were scarcely touched.’ [Source: https://historyireland.com/unheard-of-mortality-the-black-death-in-ireland/].

GENERAL OVERVIEW OF THE ‘HOLY’ REFORMATION IN IRELAND (1558-1656)

The ‘Holy’ Reformation in Ireland produced Holocausts #3 to #6 in the above table; total Irish death-toll 1.48 million.

In its time, the ‘Holy’ Reformation in Ireland was the first Judaic Warfare in the history of Christendom, in which modern armies were ordered to ‘Smite Amalek’ in a fashion similar to how the Antichrist State of Israel genocides the Arabic Semites of Palestine and Gaza today. Although the Continent had seen scorched-earth tactics before, these had only been used to deny food to an opposing army, but never yet to attack any Christian Civilian population. It was really Anglicanism that gave the ‘theological’ ‘justification’ for putting all ‘subhuman’ Irish ‘Canaanites’ to the sword, by order of ‘Judeo-Anglican’ Elizabeth I, ‘Judeo-Puritan’ Cromwell, and Judeo-Freemason James VI & I.

Anglicanism was officially founded in 1534, when Henry VIII declared himself the Head of the Catholic Church in England, i.e. by ‘merely’ usurping the Pope’s authority. This title proves that Henry VIII did not really view himself as a ‘Protestant’ but rather as ‘a Catholic in England.’ And his ‘Six Articles,’ passed in 1539, suggest that he wanted Catholic worship in England to continue. Anglicanism did not really arrive until Elizabeth I finalized its beliefs with her ‘39 Articles’ in 1558-71. And, although these ‘39 Articles’ were overtly Christian, and even closer to Catholicism than were either Lutheranism or Calvinism, Anglicanism was covertly Judaic because of all the following facts:

1. Elizabeth I and her retinue espoused the ‘British Israel’ Mythology that swiftly morphed to become the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy. Her ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ invented two bogus identities that gave the ‘righteous’ British ‘Israelites’ the ‘holy’ deuteronomic mission to genocide every last ‘subhuman,’ ‘idolatrous’ Irish ‘Canaanite.’ On its own website, the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy still hosts the following mendacious article citing its junk-science ‘logic’ for mislabeling the Celto-Germanic Irish as ‘Mid-East Canaanites’: https://british-israel.us/188.html.

2. Elizabeth I had the first openly Judeo-Rosicrucian Court with many black-magic Kabbalists. Catholics did not portray Elizabeth I favorably. Yet Anglicans praised her as the ‘English Deborah,’ ‘New Esther,’ ‘New Judith’… During her reign, Elizabeth I was likened to Deborah, who led the Israelites to victory over the Canaanites, the obvious analogy being that the ‘English Deborah’ Elizabeth I’s ‘mission’ was to slay the Irish ‘Canaanites.’ This was her ‘holy’ mission and it helped to ‘legitimize’ her rule as Anglican Tyrant. In Judges 4-5, aided by Barak, Deborah the Judge leads the Israelites to victory over the Canaanites under Sisera. However, Britain’s propaganda ‘court historians’ later altered the meaning of Elizabeth I’s ‘Deborah’ Motif to instead signify her ‘passion and desire for a Feminist Icon.’ Elizabeth was being labeled ‘English Deborah’ as early as her 1558 coronation [Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coronation_of_Elizabeth_I]. In ‘The Drama of Coronation’ (2008), Alice Hunt showed how Elizabeth I was portrayed in parliament robes as Biblical Judge Deborah at Temple Bar, the principal ceremonial entrance to the City of London [Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coronation_of_Elizabeth_I].

3. Anglicanism embraced Judaism: Henry VIII enlisted the aid of rabbis to vainly argue his divorce on the basis of Leviticus. Worse, the rabbis influenced Henry’s ‘theological’ lackey Thomas Cranmer to radically alter the Eucharist, by indecently relegating it to ‘merely’ a ‘symbolic’ meal. He ‘abolished’ most of the sacrament of Confession too. Catholicism still views Cranmer’s ‘reforms’ as reasons why God withdrew His Divine Grace.

4. Like all other Reformation sects, ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ unwisely followed the rabbis’ advice to adopt the rabbi-corrupted Masoretic Text (MT) as the basis of its Old Testament translations. But, the MT even contains a rabbi-invented ‘prophecy’ in Jeremiah 33:14-26 that is proto-Zionist (sic). Also many reformers were ‘guided’ by the ‘holy’ rabbi Maimonides. ‘Judeo-Anglican’ jurist John Selden recommended that all reformers should take the Maimonides-promoted Noahide ‘Laws’ seriously, although they mislabel all Christians as ‘idolaters.’

5. Elizabeth I’s openly Judeo-Rosicrucian court was replete with Kabbalists and Black Magicians like John Dee. Judeo-Rosicrucianism helped to found the ‘Judeo-Christian’ Identity and Credo. Its main icon still denotes the union of the Rose (which the Kabbalah uses to symbolize the Jews) and the plain Non-Crucifix or Lutheran Cross (which is used to symbolize Reformation sects to the exclusion of Catholicism and Orthodoxy).

6. Canterbury was the headquarters of ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ and, until the Great Ejection of 1662 also of ‘Judeo-Puritanism.’ But, Canterbury deployed Deuteronomy to urge the ‘Judeo-Anglicans’ and ‘Judeo-Puritans’ to genocide all Irish Catholics because they were ‘subhuman’ Mid-East ‘Canaanites’ (although DNA evidence proves otherwise). This was another aspect of the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy that is still alive today.

Overall, Anglicanism was never Christian but really a form of Judaism best described as ‘Judeo-Anglicanism.’

Also, the ‘Holy’ Reformation in Ireland can NEVER be called ‘the English Inquisition’ because Canterbury decreed effectively: ‘Ask no questions, just slaughter every last Irish man, woman, and child.’ Until the 1830s, the Irish were never given the option to join Protestantism. Instead, those who were not enslaved were slaughtered. And that was the ‘opposite’ in comparison to Continental Europe where, in the Thirty Years’ War, the city of Oppenheim changed hands so many times (between the Spanish-led Catholic-Habsburg forces and the Swedish-led forces of the German Protestant Union) that historians estimate that the (fortunate) citizens of Oppenheim were permitted to change their faith no fewer than 27 times, ending up Catholic. But the Irish had no such luck; no right to convert.

In his 1976 book, The Formation of Irish Economy, Irish historian Louis Michael Cullen estimated that the population of Ireland in 1500 (before any of England’s enormous genocides of the Irish) was 1.2 million compared to England’s 2.1 million, but that the Irish population was growing much faster. That illustrates the sheer scale of the genocide of 1.48 million Irish Catholics in 1558-1656. This was really about 15 percent of the estimated death-toll of 10 million for the Continental Thirty Years’ War. But because of the sheer power of the English monarchy and because of the falsification of ‘official’ ‘history,’ this large genocide receives ZERO attention in ‘official’ mainstream ‘history’ books. The two biggest portions were 560,000 by Elizabeth I and 800,000 by ‘Judeo-Puritan’ Cromwell.

Zero Anglican ‘High Church Missions’ and only three belated Anglican ‘Low Church Missions’ to the Irish:

Many historians make the GRAVE error of claiming that the Irish ‘resisted’ conversion to Anglicanism, but that is PURE FICTION. In fact, in all of history, Canterbury never once sent a single ‘High Church Mission’ to convert the ‘subhuman’ ‘Canaanites’ of Ireland. The only Anglican ‘Low Church Missions’ (by private parties) to Ireland were the following three, none of which arrived until more than 300 years AFTER the original invention of Anglicanism:

1. Edward Nangle launched a failed Anglican ‘Low Church Mission’ to Achill Island, Mayo, in 1834 and regularly and ardently raised his voice in 1845-52 to attribute Ireland’s hunger to ‘the wrath of God on all Catholics.’

2. Charles Gayer launched a failed Anglican ‘Low Church Mission’ to County Kerry in the 1840s. He was rector of Dunurlin and Ventry, and he built a schoolhouse on the Great Blasket Island;

3. Alexander Dallas began a failed Anglican ‘Low Church Mission’ to County Galway in 1843; it led to the 1840s phenomenon called ‘Soupers,’ who were Irish Catholics given soup in return for converting to Anglicanism.

Critically, none of these ‘Low Church Missions’ targeted any major urban hub. The overall result is that fewer than 5 percent (about 343,000) of the island of Ireland today are Anglican; but these Anglicans descend chiefly from the original Anglican Slavers. In addition, in order to prevent ‘subhuman’ Irish ‘Canaanites’ from marrying ‘righteous’ British ‘Israelites,’ ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ successfully outlawed all Catholic-Anglican intermarriage until 1829.

The Anglican Slavers did not perceive British rule as ‘governance’ but as PUNISHMENT of the ‘subhuman’ Irish ‘Canaanites.’ Many Anglican preachers said the whole PURPOSE of British rule was chastisement as stated in Deuteronomy 28:49-51; meaning that the ‘holy’ mission of the Anglican Slavers was to PUNISH the Irish, whom Canterbury formally labeled ‘subhuman Canaanites, cursed by God; and in no need of conversion’:

‘The Lord will bring upon you a nation from afar, and from the uttermost ends of the Earth, like an eagle that flies swiftly, whose tongue you cannot understand, a most insolent nation, that will show no regard to the ancients, nor have pity on the infant, and will devour the fruit of your cattle, and the fruits of your land: until you are destroyed, and will leave you no wheat, nor wine, nor oil, nor herds of oxen, nor flocks of sheep: until you are ruined.’

Anyone analyzing Ireland in 1720 or 1830 will find a miserable wasteland of abject poverty that resulted from the ‘holy’ ‘Judeo-Anglican’ mission to enduringly chastise the ‘subhuman’ ‘Canaanites’ so as to fulfill Deuteronomy.

In 1720, Jonathan Swift, the Anglican dean of Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, in Dublin, wrote, ‘Whoever travels in this country and observes the face of nature and the faces and habits and dwellings of the natives, will hardly think himself in a land where law, religion, or common humanity is professed.’ Swift was admonishing the fact that the ‘righteous’ British ‘Israelites’ had so punished the ‘subhuman’ Irish ‘Canaanites,’ in fulfillment of Deuteronomy, that Ireland was acutely weak or anemic. It was as if the very humanity of the Irish had been taken from them.

Historian Goldwin Smith described Ireland in the immediate aftermath of ‘Judeo-Puritan’ Cromwell’s genocidal campaign, stating that Irish Catholics ‘had now come under the domination of those fanatical children of the Old Covenant.’ He was clearly implying that, by 1656 and the end of the ‘Holy’ Reformation in Ireland, ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ and ‘Judeo-Puritanism’ were both working with JUDAIC RELIGIOUS ZEAL to punish and destroy the ‘subhuman’ ‘Canaanites’ of Ireland so as to fulfill their ‘holy’ ‘Old Covenant’ or deuteronomic ‘mission.’

#3 ELIZABETH I’S PLANTATION OF MUNSTER IN 1558-1594 (death-toll circa 430,000)

In 1550, Ireland’s population was as follows: Munster: 500,000 to 700,000; Leinster: 700,000 to 800,000; Ulster: 250,000 to 300,000; Connaught: 160,000. Britain still covers up its post-1558 genocide of most Irish of Munster.

Although the Irish were trying to protect their lives, livelihoods, crops, and animals from destruction, and their land from confiscation, the psychopathic-demented wordage of British Propaganda is still to assert that the Irish were ‘rebelling,’ although the reality was brutal ethnic cleansing and genocide by Elizabeth I and ‘Judeo-Anglicanism.’ So, ‘history’ books still refer to the 2 most savage genocides by Elizabeth I in 1569-83 as Desmond ‘Rebellions,’ where Desmond is Gaelic for South Munster. And today’s disgraced Irish ‘court historians’ still say ‘rebellion’ too.

In these two genocides of 1569-83, the English and their local allies (chiefly Butler of Ormond) murdered Catholic civilians, burned crops, and killed livestock, leading to weaponized-famine and to the rapid depopulation of Munster.

In 1550, Munster and Leinster were Ireland’s most populous, and most fertile, provinces. Munster’s population was roughly 500,000 to 700,000. In his 1596 pamphlet ‘A View of the Present State of Ireland,’ English ‘adventurer’ and poet Edmund Spenser outlined the aftermath and devastation of Elizabeth I’s genocide, and said Munster in 1583 was ‘nearly un-peopled,’ and that it was ‘a most populous and plentiful country suddenly left void of man or beast.’ [Source: https://historyireland.com/conquest-eleanor-countess-of-desmond-1545-1638/]

The conservative estimate for the death-toll of this Irish Holocaust under Elizabeth I is 430,000 (mostly in Munster but also some victims in other parts because, until 1594, Elizabeth I also waged savage warfare, land-confiscation, and suppression elsewhere in Ireland). But, the effects of Munster’s weaponized-famine, plus Spenser’s estimation of ‘total depopulation of Munster,’ may well mean that, in fact, the real death-toll actually exceeded 600,000.

Although Spenser was honest about the death-toll of this genocide, he still ‘justified’ it by lauding English ‘law’ as the ‘solution’ for, and a ‘blessing’ to, the Irish. But he ‘forgot’ to mention that English ‘law’ did not give any ‘legal’ personhood to most Irish, and that it viewed them as ‘perpetual enemies’ as well as de-facto and de-jure slaves. He said: ‘Ireland is a diseased portion of the state; it must first be cured and reformed, before it could be in a position to appreciate the good sound laws and blessings of the nation.’ [Source: https://offalyhistoryblog.com/2021/06/19/sir-edmund-spenser-and-croghan-hill-a-damascus-moment-by-dr-mary-oconnor/].

In 1580, Edmund Spenser justified genocide of the Irish using the example of a massacre of prisoners he witnessed in County Kerry by saying: ‘The Irish themselves … were no lawful enemies, but rebels and traitors … There was no other way but to make that short end of them, which was made [translation: there was no other option but to summarily execute these Irish [enemies], which was then carried out].’ [Source: https://www.afr.com/life-and-luxury/arts-and-culture/the-myth-of-the-irish-rebel-and-the-misreading-of-the-1916-easter-uprising-20150501-1mxk5w].

However, the Irish did not regard English ‘law’ as a ‘blessing’ of any kind whatsoever. The Irish viewed English ‘law’ as FORMALIZED TYRANNY that did not even give them personhood. For logical reasons, the Irish preferred to be ruled by their own Brehon Law, and sought the urgent protection of military dynasties like the Royal O’Neill.

In brief, the overall impression gained is that Edmund Spenser was a genocidal psychopath, although he was at least an honest one, who admitted that Elizabeth I had genocided most of the Irish of Munster.

Elizabeth I also sold roughly 20,000 Irish slaves. She was involved in the transatlantic slave-trade, especially of Africans. She approved, and invested in, slaver John Hawkins’ voyages, so Irish slaves were no problem to her.

#4 THE NINE YEARS’ WAR, 1594-1603 (death-toll circa 130,000)

Ireland’s famed Northern Confederacy of ten military dynasties was led by the Royal O’Neill, and it had kept the north of Ireland free for over 400 years after the arrival of the Cambro-Normans in 1169. In 1594, ‘Judeo-Anglican’ Elizabeth I moved to change all that, but her lackey and alleged son, Robert Devereux (’2nd Earl of Essex’), kept losing to Hugh ‘the Great’ O’Neill (Aodh Mór Ó Néill) but declaring each loss a ‘truce.’ The demonic Tudor Regime viewed King Hugh O’Neill as a ‘rebel’ and an ‘upstart,’ and it could not bear the total humiliation of having to fight a 9-year war against ‘lowly’ Irish ‘rebels.’ After a failed coup against his alleged mother, Devereux was beheaded in 1601, but in Ireland, in 1600, he had already been replaced by Arthur Chichester (’1st Baron Chichester’) who used cowardly and yet-again Talmudic-Judaic scorched-earth tactics, by encircling O’Neill’s forces with garrisons, thus starving both O’Neill’s troops and the Irish civilians. Arthur Chichester proved his ruthlessness in a 1600 letter to Robert Cecil (’1st Earl of Salisbury’), in which he stated of his Judaic-genocidal policy: ‘A million swords will not do them so much harm as one winter’s famine.’ [Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Chichester,_1st_Baron_Chichester]

Effectively, O’Neill was not defeated but forced on humanitarian grounds to submit to James VI & I on 30 Mar 1603. The death-toll of this war, including Chichester’s starvation, was roughly 130,000. Worst of all, Chichester’s tactics proved that this new Judaic Warfare against a Christian population was going to survive; it was here to stay.

The Pope and Spain’s King Philip III corresponded constantly with King Hugh O’Neill, the Pope about the affairs of the Church and Philip III with generous offers of assistance. In 1601, King Philip III of Spain sent O’Neill Don Juan del Águila and Don Diego Brochero with 6,000 men and a significant amount of arms and ammunition, plus 22,000 crowns of gold. King Hugh O’Neill, his Confederacy and the Spanish, held out for 9 years until he submitted in 1603.

#5 JAMES VI & I’S PLANTATIONS OF ULSTER AND WEST LEINSTER, 1606-21 (death-toll circa 40,000)

In the 1650s, William Petty confirmed that 30,000 Irish died in the Plantation of Ulster. He was mainly reliable so we will trust his tally. If we add 10,000 for the Plantation of West Leinster, we get 40,000 for this particular Holocaust.

James VI & I was a Judeo-Freemason, Rosicrucian, Kabbalist, and demonologist, styling himself ‘King of Israel.’

#6 CROMWELL’S CAMPAIGN AND THE IRISH CONFEDERATE WARS, 1641-56 (death-toll circa 880,000)

The three Irish Holocausts of 1641-56 must be lumped together as one because there is only one reliable statistic available for the entire era of 1641-52, given by William Petty’s 1655 ‘Down Survey’ (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Down_Survey).

From 1641 until Aug 1649, the Irish Confederacy was victorious, but 50,000 died in battle and roughly 30,000 by starvation, disease, exposure etc. From Aug 1649 till Dec 1652, the ‘Judeo-Puritan’ Army genocided 720,000 Irish Catholics. Finally, Edmund Ludlow, Henry Ireton, and Charles Fleetwood slew another 30,000 Irish soldiers by April 1653, but in Jan-Dec 1653 a total of 50,000 more Irish died of starvation, disease, exposure; due firstly to battle but secondly to the far more lethal (Talmudic-Judaic) scorched-earth war this trio waged against the Christian populace. In total, Cromwell’s ‘Judeo-Puritan’ army genocided 800,000 Irish; and 80,000 Irish had died in 1641 till Aug 1649.

As Irish resistance was being wiped out after 1652, only half of the story was the plunder of all land from the Gaelic Nobility; the other half was that this (Talmudic-Judaic) land-plunder created a ‘tiresome excess’ of Irish, so the ‘Judeo-Puritans’ decided to ship roughly 125,000 Irish slaves to the Caribbean and to Colonial America in 1652-56.

When Cromwell’s surveyor, Dr William Petty MD, had completed his work, Ireland was the best-mapped country in Europe. In his 1655 ‘Down Survey,’ Petty’s tallies for the Irish population were: 1.668 million in 1641, but 1.1 million in 1652 (1 year before NMA left). [Source: Page 52 of Seán O’Callaghan’s 2000 book ‘To Hell or Barbados’].

But Petty was really confirming a death-toll of 800,000 because we must also account for the Irish populace-growth of 182,000 in the years of 1641-52. Thus, the Irish population dropped from 1.668 million in 1641 to 1.1 million in 1652, but this Irish population-growth of 182,000 means that the total death-toll was not the apparent 618,000 but actually 800,000. In other words, the fact that Petty did not record 1.282 million in 1652 means that 182,000 more victims had offset the natural Irish population-growth, leaving a low population of 1.1 million in 1652. Separately, William Petty described the genocide victims as, ‘wasted by the sword, plague, famine, and hardship.’ In the final year of the genocide (1653), 30,000 more Irish died by the sword, but circa 50,000 by Judaic scorched-earth tactics.

However, Cromwell’s direct genocidal involvement is partly overstated because he arrived in Ireland on 15 Aug 1649, but left only 285 days (9.5 months) later on 26 May 1650. It was really the generals of his New ‘Judeo-Puritan’ Army that did most of the damage. This ‘pious’ Judaic army assailed Drogheda and Wexford, as well as 30 other towns, but the largest genocide did not happen in any urban setting; the biggest death-toll came from the New ‘Judeo-Puritan’ Army’s attacks on the Catholic Civilian population, again by cowardly (and highly Talmudic-Judaic) scorched-earth warfare that led to starvation, disease, exposure …

In his letters and speeches, ‘Puritan’ Cromwell called himself ‘the English Joshua’ and ‘the English Gideon.’ He also defined his own personal mission as being ‘to purify Israel,’ and to end what he called the ‘idolatrous’ and ‘blasphemous’ Catholic Mass, thus firmly echoing the words of the ‘holy’ rabbi Maimonides. His contemporary Marchamont Nedham wrote of Cromwell: ‘Beware the English Joshua.’ In his biography of Cromwell, John Morley wrote of England’s tactics: ‘The English likened themselves to Israel against Benjamin; and then to Joshua against the Canaanites.’ [Source: Page 311 of John Morley’s 1902 book ‘Oliver Cromwell’].

On Page 72 of his 1883 book ‘Cromwell in Ireland,’ Professor Denis Murphy wrote of Cromwell’s charismatic impact upon his soldiers: ‘Cromwell suddenly appeared among them and their complaints were hushed; at the same time preachers labored strenuously to work on their prejudices. They were compared to the Israelites proceeding to extirpate the idolatrous inhabitants of Canaan and described as the chosen instruments by which heaven was to overthrow the Empire of Babylon and establish in its stead the New Jerusalem.’

To Cromwell, the Irish were as the Amorites, Canaanites etc. were to Joshua. In 1641-49, the Irish Confederacy was victorious and had retaken most of Ireland, so that Cromwell was terrified of landing his 35 ships any place other than in (Anglo-Unionist) Dublin, arriving on 15 Aug 1649 at Ringsend in south-central Dublin. He declared to his Judaic soldiers that they must show no mercy to the Irish, and that they should be dealt with as the Canaanites in Joshua’s time (i.e. utterly destroyed). Cromwell explicitly identified his Irish Catholic enemies as ‘Canaanites.’ Later on, ‘Judeo-Puritan’ colonists in New England called their Native American enemies Canaanites, Amalekites etc. Similar rhetoric persists down to the present, with Netanyahu still urging the ZioNazi IDF to ‘Smite Amalek.’ It is still ultra-obvious that Satanists have always abused Sacred Scripture to encourage genocide in the name of God.

Upon his arrival in Dublin, ‘Puritan’ Cromwell ‘justified’ his planned wholesale slaughter of the Irish by shamelessly citing Numbers 33:55 so as to inspire his ‘honorable,’ ‘pious’ troops (his merciless Biblical ‘Israelites’) to kill every ‘idolatrous’ Irish ‘Canaanite.’ They were NOT to offer the Irish any option to convert, they were just to murder them.

Numbers 33:55 instructs Joshua that he must drive out or kill the Canaanites: ‘But if you do not drive out the inhabitants of the land from before you, then it shall be that those whom you let remain shall be irritants in your eyes and THORNS IN YOUR SIDES and they shall harass you in the land where you dwell.’

Cromwell took his soldiers to Ireland to murder Catholics plain and simple. And the ‘pious’ Judaic troops were a LETHAL KILLING MACHINE. Irish author Seumas MacManus recounted: ‘All 17,000 of the Puritan Army … were extraordinary men; his Ironsides; Bible-reading, Psalm-singing soldiers of God, fearfully daring, fiercely fanatical, Papist hating, looking on this land as being assigned to them, the chosen people, by their God; and looking on the inhabitants as idol-worshiping Canaanites who were cursed by God and were to be extirpated by the sword. They came with minds inflamed.’ [Source: Page 121 of James Albert Haught’s 1990 book Holy Horrors https://churchandstate.org.uk/2022/07/holy-horrors-a-short-history-of-the-puritans/].

Exodus 15:3 tells us that ‘the Lord is a man of war.’ Deuteronomy 12:3 orders the Israelites to ‘destroy their altars, break their sacred pillars, and burn their wooden images with fire … cut down the carved images of their gods and destroy their names from that place.’ Those were all things that ‘Judeo-Puritan’ Cromwell repeated in Ireland. OT books Joshua and Numbers gave Cromwell further instructions on how his ‘holy’ mission was to be carried out.

It is easy to see that Cromwell’s impressions and ‘logic’ came straight from Judaism’s vile loathing of Christianity. To ‘justify’ a ‘holy’ war against ‘idolatry’ (in his mind Catholicism), Cromwell claimed the ‘Zeal of Phinehas’ (Numbers 25:6-15), and he often vowed to BAN the ‘blasphemous’ and ‘idolatrous’ Mass (thus also echoing the ‘holy’ rabbi Maimonides). Cromwell also had an insane fixation with Biblical slayers of ‘idolaters’ like Joshua and Gideon, and said his mission was ‘to purify Israel.’ The fact that Cromwell was building a ‘Theocracy’ he dubbed ‘Israel’ is totally suppressed by British ‘court historians’ today, who are ordered instead to focus on one single deed, i.e. regicide.

At Drogheda, Cromwell ordered the execution of surrendered Catholics calling it ‘a righteous judgment of God upon these barbarous wretches.’ From Drogheda, Cromwell wrote a letter to William Lenthall that was full of providential terms, a letter featuring the word ‘God’ 21 times [https://www.olivercromwell.org/wordpress/articles/the-religious-context-of-the-cromwellian-conquest-of-ireland/]. Later, British essayist Thomas Carlyle joyfully lauded the slaughter that ‘Cromwell and his Pious Judaic Children of the Old Covenant’ had accomplished, although it was the biggest act of industrial genocide thus far in history. He said: ‘Oliver Cromwell came as a soldier of God the Just, terrible as Death, relentless as Doom, doing God’s Judgments on the enemies of God.’ [https://medium.com/@haught_86726/religion-in-civil-wars-2af7b814d3c8]. Cromwell styled himself ‘Lord’ ‘Protector,’ a ‘Judeo-Puritan’ term that really signified Ayatollah, Chief Rabbi, Grand Mufti etc. Cromwell always gave the name ‘Israel’ to the Theocracy he was building (at least in his own mind).

Cromwell also self-absolved, as if by the ‘Kol Nidre,’ when assessing his, and his Judaic army’s, deeds: ‘There are great occasions in which some men are called to great services [like genociding the Irish] in the doing of which they are excused from the common rule of morality.’ [Source: https://journals.lib.unb.ca/index.php/jcs/article/view/4597/5438]

In his 1746 book The Freemasons Crushed, an anonymous French writer using the alias ‘Abbé Larudan’ claimed that Cromwell helped to launch a Freemasonic lodge in 1648: ‘Oliver Cromwell established the Order [of Freemasonry] for the furtherance of his [own] political designs and … Freemasonry was organized, its degrees established, [and] its ceremonies and ritual prescribed by Cromwell and several of the adherents he initiated.’

Source 1: https://www.universalfreemasonry.org/en/encyclopedia/cromwell

Source 2: https://ebin.pub/scarlet-and-the-beast-a-history-of-the-war-between-english-and-french-freemasonry-1890913995.html

Source 3: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abb%C3%A9_Larudan

‘Abbé Larudan’ alleged further: ‘The Institution [of Freemasonry] was used by Cromwell for the advancement of his projects, for the union of the contending parties in England, for the extirpation of the monarchy, and for his own subsequent elevation to supreme power.’

Years later, French Freemasons confirmed that Cromwell was a high-degree Freemason who used the system for his own elevation to power. So, the confirmations from these French Freemasons and from ‘Abbé Larudan’ affirm that Oliver Cromwell was a Judeo-Freemason. For centuries, there have been many other claims that Cromwell and most senior ‘Puritans’ were Rosicrucians, or Freemasons, or both, and were also well-versed in Jewish Kabbalah. Undoubtedly, Cromwell was not a Christian; he was a Judeo-Freemason and a Judaic ‘Child of the Old Covenant.’

Cromwell’s Irish Slaves

Besides the 800,000 genocide-toll under Cromwell’s New Model Army (NMA), another circa 125,000 Irish were sent as slaves to the Americas mainly via the big Munster ports (Cork, Youghal, Waterford …). In his 2000 book To Hell or Barbados, Seán O’Callaghan wrote: ‘The ethnic cleansing of Ireland may be said to have begun on 24 Aug 1652. On that date, there was put into operation the most thorough and ruthless transfer of the Irish people to overseas colonies ever undertaken by any English leader. A proclamation was issued which gave ultimate power to the Commissioners of Ireland to seize and transport anybody of whatever rank who was judged dangerous to the Commonwealth.’ [Source: Page 77 of Seán O’Callaghan’s 2000 book ‘To Hell or Barbados’].

The rough estimate for the headcount that Cromwell’s New ‘Judeo-Puritan’ NMA shipped to the West Indies and Colonial America is 125,000 Irish slaves in 1652-56, which is a MEDIAN ESTIMATE from all the following sources:

1. Some say that Cromwell’s New Model Army shipped 300,000 Irish slaves, BUT there is little evidence for that.

2. Cardinal Giovanni Battista Rinuccini (Papal Nuncio to the Confederation of Kilkenny in 1645-48) gave a high estimate of 50,000 Irish slaves per year, in the five years of 1652-56, as Seán O’Callaghan relates: ‘The numbers vary from as low as 12,000 by Robert Fitzroy Foster, in his Modem Ireland (1988), to 50,000 per year, which was the figure given by Cardinal Rinuccini, who described the desperate plight of the Irish put aboard the slave ships.’ [Source: Page 85 of Seán O’Callaghan’s 2000 book To Hell or Barbados].

3. Petty’s ‘Down Survey’ gave the Irish population in 1652 as 1.1 million. But Cromwell’s New Model Army did not really start shipping Irish slaves until most Irish resistance was thwarted, i.e. in 1652-56. So, if we assume 1.2 percent annual population-growth, and subtract refugees (see next), our estimate is circa 150,000 slaves.

4. Overall, the safest would be to just take a MEDIAN estimate of 125,000 Irish slaves shipped in 1652-56.

In the 1930s, Father Aubrey Gwynn SJ estimated 34,000 Irishmen joined armies in Continental Europe, with at least tacit English approval. [Source: Page 86 of Seán O’Callaghan’s 2000 book To Hell or Barbados]. These were refugees escaping genocide, and they are nickname ‘the Wild Geese’ (second wave, after the first wave of 1607).

Although these figures are imperfect, they nonetheless indicate that Ireland’s population was cut by over 50 percent from its pre-1641 level in the 15 years of 1641-56, with circa 80,000 dead in the Irish Confederacy’s victory, circa 800,000 genocided by the NMA, 125,000 slaves shipped, and 34,000 refugees to Catholic havens on the Continent.

In his 1672 book The Political Anatomy of Ireland, Petty described the Irish slave-trade thusly: ‘The widows and orphans, the deserted wives and families of the swordsmen, were kidnapped and transported by the slave-trading merchants of Bristol which their previous experience enabled them to organize with advantage to themselves.’ [Source: Page 81 of Seán O’Callaghan’s 2000 book To Hell or Barbados].

It is crucial to keep in mind that almost NONE of the Irish slaves shipped could be classed ‘indentured servants,’ as British Propaganda and British ‘court historians’ still attempt to falsely claim. That is because, for 621 years, most Irish people had no ‘legal’ personhood under English ‘law,’ which meant that they could not enter into any contract. But, indentured servitude WAS a type of contract because it was a legal agreement where an individual, often in exchange for passage to a new land or other benefits, agreed to work for a period for someone else. So, for 621 years in 1172-1793, there were in fact no Irish ‘indentured servants,’ there can only have been Irish SLAVES.

We know that the enslavement of Irish people to the Caribbean, mainly Barbados, continued for at least 30 more years after 1656 because Archbishop Oliver Plunkett of Armagh appealed on behalf of enslaved Irishmen after the suppression of the 1686 Monmouth Rebellion. In general, Irishmen were sold into hard labor in the Caribbean colonies, whereas many Irishwomen ended up as domestic servants or prostitutes throughout Eastern America. Records show that Irish slaves were sold to the Americas from circa 1570 till the reign of George III, although most or all white slaves, of all European origins, were freed unconditionally when the US became ‘independent’ in 1783. Various dates are given for when Britain ended the slave-trade: https://api.parliament.uk/historic-hansard/bills/slave-trade-suppression-bill.

But, overall and through all the centuries, the records of Irish slaves and the number of Irish slaves are incomplete.

In summary, the era of 1641-56 actually featured THREE Holocausts that we are obliged to lump together as one:

1. In 1641-49, 80,000 Irish died, but the Irish Confederacy was almost totally victorious; it pared English power down to the very last Anglo-Unionist bastion, i.e. Dublin. In the end, Cromwell could only land at Ringsend.

2. From Aug 1649, Cromwell’s ‘Judeo-Puritan’ Army genocided first 720,000 Irish Catholics, mainly by Talmudic-Judaic scorched-earth tactics which caused starvation and disease among the Christian population, and then 80,000 more Irish Catholics throughout 1653 (since Petty’s 1.1-million figure was for 1652, so it excluded the whole final year’s genocide by Cromwell’s ‘Judeo-Puritan’ New Model Army).

3. In 1652-56, roughly 125,000 Irish slaves were shipped to the New World, while 34,000 Irish refugees escaped to the Continent; this being the second wave of ‘the Wild Geese’ (the first wave having begun in 1607).

#7 THE ACUTE ENSLAVEMENT CAMPAIGNS OF 1657-1793 (circa 150,000 Irish slaves shipped)

After Cromwell, shipments of Irish slaves to the Americas intensified in 1657, and they continued until personhood was restored to all Irish Catholics under George III (by the Catholic Relief Act of 1793). An unknown number of Irish slaves (150,000 being a cautious estimate) were sold in the 136 years of 1657-1793. This slavery ended in 1839. Only in the US can the Irish be said to have found any true freedom, although that freedom was still very short-lived.

Note: The USA is the only nation in history that experienced true freedom for a phenomenal 65 years. This era was from the Jay Treaty, which took effect in 1796 and finally halted British incursions into the US northeast, until the beginning of the US Civil War in 1861, which was launched by London Agent Abraham Lincoln-Rothschild to build up the dictatorial US Federal Regime as the main instrument via which the Synagogue of Satan (’Team Antichrist’) reestablished centralized control over the USA, and only tightened the screws all the way down to the present day.

#8 FOOD REMOVAL UNDER GEORGE II IN 1740-41 (death-toll circa 700,000)

The Food Removal under George II in 1740-41 was a huge Irish Holocaust that is today largely forgotten. For an entire century, it was known as ‘the Year of the Slaughter’ in which about 28 percent of Ireland’s population died. It was caused mainly by the British Regime’s policy of overusing Ireland’s land for the most lucrative cash-staple.

Very cold and wet weather caused the corn crop to fail. That led to a shortage of milk and meat after much of the livestock starved. But the George II-led British Regime kept its policy of Food Removal. This Holocaust epitomized British policy after Cromwell: That was to keep the (now fully-enslaved) Irish perpetually on the brink of starvation. Then, if any upset occurred, that upset was ‘billed’ to the slaves, while the Anglican Slavers still got their full profits.

In this era, Britain used Ireland to produce an export-staple called Irish Salt Beef, which was at the time one of the most vital transatlantic commodities as the staple-protein of slaves in all the Caribbean colonies of Britain, France, and the Netherlands. For this export-staple, Britain misallocated vital Irish land whose proper purpose was to feed the Irish slaves (tenant farmers). British policy was for the Irish slaves to bear the full brunt of any unplanned upset.

In 1669-77, Jean-Charles de Baas, governor of the French Antilles, asked permission from Jean-Baptiste Colbert (France’s ‘Principal Ministre d’État’) to send French merchants directly to Ireland to buy Irish Salt Beef (’le boeuf sale d’Irlande’). He called it ‘the most important commodity of all’ for feeding Caribbean slaves. [Source: 1912 book Colbert’s West India Policy https://archive.org/stream/colbertswestindi00mims/colbertswestindi00mims_djvu.txt by Stewart Lea Mims] Later, British nonfood cash-crops caused many of India’s dozens of Holocausts in 1770-1947 (same M.O.).

#9 THE 1798 REBELLION AND ITS AFTERMATH, 1798-1801 (death-toll circa 130,000)

The Irish Rebellion of 1798 was fought by Irish Catholics and Presbyterians against land-plunder by the British Regime and against the unscrupulous Penal Laws. This rebellion was unique because it united Irish Catholics and Presbyterians against the Anglican Slavers, mainly over the issue of tithes which ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ claimed even from nonmembers (i.e. Catholics and Presbyterians). It featured notable battles in Wexford; Wicklow; Antrim; Down; Kildare; Kilkenny; Carlow; Meath; Longford; Westmeath; Mayo; and Sligo. The battleground death-toll was 50,000, but there were an additional 80,000 excess deaths mainly due to war-related harvest failures in 1799 and 1800.

#10 THE IRISH HOLOCAUST OF 1845-52 UNDER VICTORIA (death-toll circa 5.5 million)

This was by far the most shameful and notorious Irish Holocaust of all. It was committed by four Diabolical Entities:

1. The Malthusian British Regime.

2. The murderous English monarchy (a bastion of the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy).

3. The Freemasonic British Army (another bastion of the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy).

4. The toxic mix best described as ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ (yet another bastion of the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy).

Britain’s genius for murder AND cover-up blamed ‘happenstance’ and a ‘nasty potato blight’ for this Holocaust, but ‘forgot’ to mention that all other northwest European nations handily vanquished the same blight, and that Britain in fact greeted it as a welcome opportunity to premeditatedly genocide Irish Catholics by Food Removal at Gunpoint.

The Freemasonic British Army removed Ireland’s very plentiful food, enough to feed 12 million mouths in every year of this Holocaust. Later, in 1932-33, ‘Team Antichrist’ reused the same specialized know-how to perpetrate, AND cover up, its genocide of 10 million Ukrainians in the Holodomor. Chris Fogarty’s now-famous map, the Mass Graves of Ireland, lists the 67 ‘worthy’ British regiments that ‘served.’ These were led by a genocidal psychopath called Edward Blakeney and comprised over half of Britain’s worldwide army of 126 regiments in total at the time:

https://i0.wp.com/tlio.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/1024-map.gif

The very strong evidence for a death-toll of 5-6 million is given in Chapter 6 of Chris’s book Ireland 1845-1850: The Perfect Holocaust, and who kept it ‘Perfect’ …,’ which you can read online here: https://fliphtml5.com/qfpkk/sfhj.

In that chapter, Chris shows multiple private censuses that proved that the real Irish population in 1846 was almost certainly 12.5 million, but possibly at least 11.5 million. After most of the genocide, an improved 1851 Irish census counted 6.55 million Irish. That implies the premeditated genocide of 5 to 6 million mostly Irish-speaking Catholics. The circa 1 million refugees who left as so-called ‘emigrants’ were replaced by 1 million newborns in those years.

The Plain and Simple Motive

In her 1962 book The Great Hunger: Ireland: 1845-1849, British historian Cecil Woodham-Smith gave the British Regime’s official increase in Ireland’s population for the period from 1779 till 1841 as 172 percent, which translates to an annual population-growth-rate of 1.63 percent. In stark contrast, the 18.5 million British (English, Scottish, and Welsh) in 1841 grew to 42.8 million in 1921, which implies a much lower British annual populace-growth-rate of 1.05 percent, although Britain was also enduring an industry-related influx from Continental Europe in that entire era.

Britain’s Malthusians extrapolated that, without THEIR drastic intervention, the 12.5 million Irish in 1846 would grow at the annual rate of 1.63 percent to 42.7 million by circa 1921 (when there were 42.8 million English, Welsh, Scots). Naturally the London ‘elites’ utterly baulked at the prospect of Ireland’s populace almost-certainly overtaking Britain’s by circa 1923 (barring RADICAL intervention). Did THEY want to be ruled by Irish-speaking Catholics?

A Bug in Search of a Windshield

When a potato-blight presented itself in Northwest Europe in late 1845, Britain’s Malthusians welcomed it as a godsend from their deuteronomic avatar. But Malthusian Nassau William Senior warned Britain’s Regime that this ‘[would] not kill more than one million people and that would scarcely be enough to do any good.’ [Source: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nassau_William_Senior]. He was alerting his fellow Malthusians to the fact that they would need a very diabolical plan indeed in order to get some ‘serious genocide’ going that might actually do some ‘good.’

The Cover-Story already finalized ON DAY-ONE

At the Viceregal Lodge in Dublin’s Phoenix Park on 3 Nov 1845, the British plan and cover-story (a huge worldwide Psy Op) for this Irish Holocaust was formally announced when a delegation of 22 prominent Irishmen pleaded with ‘Lord Lieutenant of Ireland’ William à Court (’1st Baron Heytesbury’) for the Food Removal at Gunpoint to stop so that the starving Irish might live, and to halt all distilling and brewing so as to leave more grain available for human consumption. But William à Court callously ignored their pleas, read to them an official paper reiterating the Cover- Story (Psy Op), titled ‘Potato Blight,’ and finally showed them the door. The delegation included Charles FitzGerald (’Duke of Leinster’), Daniel O’Connell (Freemason, attorney, ‘politician’), Valentine Lawless (’Lord Cloncurry’), John Ladeveze Arabin (’Lord Mayor of Dublin’), John Augustus O’Neill (’politician’), Henry Grattan Jr (’politician’).

But, the most pivotal year was 1846 since that is when the four Diabolical Entities began their genocide in earnest.

The Original Irish ‘Copyright’ on the Term ‘Holocaust’

The newspaper Cork Examiner (today called the Irish Examiner) already described this premeditated genocide by Britain with the word ‘Holocaust’ in many of its issues, e.g. 4 May 1846; 7 Aug 1846; 22 Jan 1847; 25 Jan 1847; 17 Sep 1847; 1 Oct 1847; 3 Jan 1848; 19 Nov 1855. In the 1840s and later, many Irish writers, such as Michael Davitt, John Mitchel, and others, regularly and continually used the term ‘Holocaust’ to refer to the premeditated genocide of the Irish in 1845-52 by the four Diabolical Entities, also called London Elites who are part of ‘Team Antichrist.’

#11 THE IRISH HOLOCAUST OF 1853-1910 UNDER VICTORIA AND EDWARD VII (death-toll circa 400,000)

Emboldened by the ‘success’ of the previous Irish Holocaust of 1845-52, Britain continued its destructive economic policies in Ireland, in order to ‘encourage’ more Irish to emigrate (or else face starvation or total destitution). While the Holocaust of 1845-52 had been by classic extermination, this Holocaust was mostly by expulsion. This was in line with the same murderous Modus Operandi since the Four Talmudic E’s (wholly integral to ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’) are Expropriation, Extermination, Expulsion, and Enslavement. In 1853-1910, the total death-toll was ‘only’ roughly 400,000. Thereof, in 1879, 170,000 died of starvation, consumption, tuberculosis. The problem of so-called ‘Coffin Ships,’ where 80,000 died of cholera, typhoid etc. on their voyage, was not solved until 1867. A new phenomenon called ‘Chain Migration’ quickened the exodus; it meant that emigrants remitted the fare to siblings or friends, thus enabling them to pay their way to America. After that, Ireland continued to hemorrhage its people so that, by 1921, Ireland’s populace had dwindled to a paltry 4.2 million, vastly lower than the 42.7 million Britain’s Malthusians were still projecting in the 1830s. The four Diabolical Entities that set upon Ireland had achieved a resounding ‘success.’

Note too: Because most of the victims of this Irish Holocaust escaped Ireland (or were really expelled), this went on to become the main provenance of today’s 90-million Irish Diaspora in the USA, Canada, Britain, Australia, NZ …

#12 THE COVID-PHARMA GENOCIDE OF 2020-40 (still ongoing, likely total Irish death-toll in the millions) To be continued.

HOW THE ‘BRITISH ISRAEL’ PSYCHOPATHY DESTROYED THE IRISH

The ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy was the ‘Original ZioNazi Ideology.’ It played a key role in Ireland’s many Holocausts: https://ibb.co/2B21Zxx . ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ has only ever followed the Talmud, but never really yet the New Testament. Notable proponents of the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy have included Henry Spelman (1562-1641), who was totally misled by fabulist Adriaan van Schrieck; John Sadler (1615-74) a key henchman of ‘Judeo-Puritan’ Oliver Cromwell; John Wilson (1799-1870); Edward Hine (1825-91); John Cox Gawler (1830-82); William Pascoe Goard (1863-1937); Edward Wheler Bird; William Henry Poole; Alexander James Ferris etc.

Edward Hine’s 1871 The British Nation Identified with Lost Israel attacked the Irish viciously, but, to this day, the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy has never yet redressed any of its errors in reference to the Irish or to Ireland:

• On page 27, Hine reiterates the core lie of the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy that asserts that the Irish are ‘Mid-East Canaanites.’ Modern DNA and linguistics prove that the Irish are a Celto-Germanic people who are most closely related to the Scots, Norwegians, Manx, and Icelandics. Irish is midway between Latin and German.

• On page 295, Hine repeats two ‘old chestnut’ lies of the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy that the Irish are ‘Mid-East Canaanites,’ and that Jeremiah and Tea Tephi ‘brought the Stone of Jacob to Ireland.’

• On Page 86, Hine harshly condemns Britain for having granted SOME basic rights to Irish Catholics via its 1829 ‘Emancipation’ Act, admonishing that Judges 2:2 instead stipulates ‘no covenants with Canaanites.’

• On Page 86, Hine calls for the genocide of the Irish, and their expulsion, and rejoices that the Irish population was being halved yet again in the Irish Holocaust of 1853-1910, stating that the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy regards ‘these Irish Canaanites’ as ‘Aborigines’ who ‘have to come under the DYING OUT PROCESS.’

• On page 27, Hine calls upon the USA (called ‘Manasseh’ by the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy) to maltreat Irish Catholics upon their arrival in US ports, and to grant them zero rights, especially zero rights of equal opportunity. This meant that Irish ‘Israelite’ Thomas Mellon of Omagh-Tyrone, or Henry Ford’s Irish ‘Israelite’ father of Ballinascarty-Cork, were predestined to succeed relatively quickly after their arrival in the USA. But, in stark contrast, the published plan of the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy was for Irish ‘Canaanites’ like Joseph Patrick Kennedy or William Russell Grace to be held back for MUCH longer. The ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy was also ubiquitous in the ZioNazi-Freemasonic Establishments of Britain, Canada, Australia, New Zealand …

Other authors who promoted the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy also mislabeled the Irish as ‘Canaanite remnants’ and/or ‘Phoenician remnants.’ In his 1840 book Our Israelitish Origin, ‘Judeo-Anglican’ John Wilson misidentified Irish Catholics as ‘hostile Canaanite remnants.’ In his 1879 book Anglo-Israel, ‘Judeo-Methodist’ clergyman William Henry Poole yet again advanced the same old lie that Irish Catholics were ‘Mid-East Canaanites.’

SAINT MALACHY’S PROPHECY FOR IRELAND

Around 1140 AD, Saint Malachy foretold succinctly: ‘Ireland will suffer English oppression for A WEEK OF CENTURIES, but will preserve her Fidelity to God and His Church. At the end of that time she will be delivered, and the English, in turn, must suffer severe chastisement.’ [Source: Page 15 of Yves Dupont’s 1970 book ‘Catholic Prophecy’]

And that is PARTLY what happened although, at the same time, all nations today remain enslaved by the City of London Slavery System, which is still deploying typical Talmudic policies on them all. So, not even the Irish are free.

Malachy Ó Morgair was the Archbishop of Armagh who had a vision of 112 popes, giving rise to his ‘Prophecy of the Popes,’ which largely came to pass. Malachy died in 1148, and he was canonized by Pope Clement III in 1190.

THE IRISH PENAL LAWS

Starting in 1558, the Irish Penal Laws were enforced by London and Canterbury (meaning by Elizabeth I and her ‘zealous’ ‘theological’ henchmen). They were vastly extended under James VI & I, and then modified, mostly for the worse, under William III, Anne, George I, and George II. Finally, they were repealed under Victoria, starting on 1 Jan 1871. Notable exacerbations of the Penal Laws by the (Anglican-Slaver) ‘Parliament’ of Ireland were the 1704 Popery Act and the 1727 Disfranchising Act, which forbade Irish Catholics from voting in elections. The Irish Penal Laws were derived from the Talmud, which was the main guidebook covertly followed by the ‘Judeo-Anglican’ sect.

Here is an INCOMPLETE LIST of Irish Penal Laws applied under (lawless) English ‘Law’ in Ireland:

1. Irish Catholics must pay tithes to ‘Judeo-Anglicanism,’ the ‘established’ church, despite being nonmembers;

2. Irish Catholics are excluded from all education and from attending any school;

3. Irish Catholics are excluded from all professions;

4. Irish Catholics are excluded from holding public office;

5. Irish Catholics are excluded from voting in any election;

6. Irish Catholics are excluded from trade or commerce;

7. Irish Catholics are excluded from living in a corporate town or within five miles thereof;

8. Irish Catholics are excluded from living within three miles of the coast [this destroyed fishery enterprises and all other maritime trades of Ireland’s Catholics];

9. Irish Catholics are excluded from owning a horse worth more than five pounds;

10. Irish Catholics are excluded from purchasing land;

11. Irish Catholics are excluded from leasing land;

12. Irish Catholics are excluded from accepting a mortgage on land as security for a loan;

13. Irish Catholics are excluded from receiving any further-education;

14. Irish Catholics are excluded from keeping arms for self-protection;

15. Irish Catholics are excluded from receiving any life annuity;

16. Irish Catholics are excluded from buying land from a Protestant [’Judeo-Anglican,’ ‘Judeo-Presbyterian’ etc.);

17. Irish Catholics are excluded from inheriting land, or anything else, from a Protestant;

18. Irish Catholics are excluded from receiving a gift of land from a Protestant;

19. Irish Catholics are excluded from renting land worth more than thirty shillings per annum;

20. Irish Catholics are excluded from reaping from their land any profit exceeding one-third of the rent;

21. Irish Catholics are excluded from being a guardian to a child;

22. Irish Catholics must not leave their infant children under Catholic guardianship in the event of their death;

23. Irish Catholics are excluded from home-schooling their own children;

24. Irish Catholics are excluded from sending their children to a Catholic teacher;

25. Irish Catholics are excluded from employing a Catholic teacher to come to their children;

26. Irish Catholics are excluded from sending their children to be educated abroad;

27. etc.

Absolutely NONE of the latter had to do with ‘governance,’ or with Ireland ‘needing’ to be ‘governed’ in some ‘judicious’ way. ALL of it was about ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ punishing the Irish for being ‘subhuman’ ‘Canaanites.’ Ultimately, only God knows the real reason WHY, but Saint Malachy certainly saw it coming.

From the English monarchy’s angle, the ‘logic’ behind the Penal Laws was total enslavement: The Irish must never be permitted to prosper, and had never been invited to join the ‘Holy’ Reformation. One effect was the ruination of Irish industries, chiefly agriculture and fisheries. The Irish fate was to do AND die to serve their English ‘masters.’

In his 1792 ‘Letter to Hercules Langrishe,’ Irish statesman Edmund Burke said of the Penal Laws in Ireland: ‘It is a truly barbarous system, where all the parts are an outrage on the laws of humanity and the rights of nature: It is a system of elaborate contrivance as well fitted for the oppression and degradation of a people, and the debasement of human nature itself, as ever proceeded from the Perverted Ingenuity of Man.’ [Source Page 129-130 of James Macaulay’s 1873 book Ireland in 1872]

But Burke did not mention that, essentially, ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ was following Deuteronomy and the Talmud.

Genocide in Ireland was always by the murderous English monarchy; the Freemasonic British Army; and the Malthusian British Regime. But the lethal glue cementing it all together forever was ‘Judeo-Anglicanism.’

THE ROLE OF THE JEWS, OF JEWISH FINANCING, AND OF JEWISH TACTICS

Those who claim that the ‘Holy’ Reformation had ‘nothing’ to do with Judaism should examine more carefully Irish Holocausts #3 to #6, as detailed above and listed in the above table. These, of course, prove the very OPPOSITE, i.e. that, in Ireland, the ‘Holy’ Reformation was a noxiously Judaic attack on Christianity and on Christendom that was carried out with the most barbarous of Judaic tactics that came straight from Deuteronomy and the Talmud.

One bitter irony is that the Irish were really genocided by a gang of de-facto Jews calling themselves ‘Christians.’ These were primarily the Judaic sects ‘Judeo-Anglicanism,’ ‘Judeo-Puritanism,’ and ‘Judeo-Presbyterianism.’

Because the Talmud commands the genocide of all Christians, most especially Catholics, many genocidal actions against Irish Catholics perpetrated by ‘Judeo-Anglicans,’ ‘Judeo-Puritans,’ and ‘Judeo-Presbyterians,’ were also financed by Jews (that was OF COURSE the case, to such an extent that it almost goes without saying):

· Richard FitzGilbert de Clare (’Strongbow’) was funded by a Jew called Josce, or Joshua, of Gloucester, although, in 1170, a 5-pound fine was imposed for giving funds to those escorting ‘Strongbow’ to Ireland;

· ‘Judeo-Puritan’ Cromwell was financed by Ebenezer Pratt of Mülheim-Ruhr (in the German Low Country) and Menasseh ben Israel (Amsterdam). On 16 Jun 1647, Cromwell wrote ‘[I] advise that Charles be assassinated.’ On 12 Jul 1647, Pratt replied: ‘Will grant financial aid as soon as Charles [I] removed and Jews admitted’;

· William III of Orange was funded by Jewish bankster Abraham Israel Suasso;

· Nassau William Senior, of Jewish descent, called for more deaths than 1 million in the Irish Holocaust of 1845-52, and he certainly got his wish because the death-toll was indeed far higher, most likely totaling 5 to 6 million;

· During the Irish ‘Troubles’ of 1968-98, Zionist Jew Jacob Rothschild (’4th Baron Rothschild’) funded the UVF.

In the era of 1700-1921, the fact that every single English landlord in Ireland used the exact same set of financial rules obviously implies that those rules were centrally defined by the (Jewish) Bank of England. Under these rules, the ‘Judeo-Anglican’ Slavers forced their Irish slaves to ‘pay’ rent with 250 days of work a year, with 50 days allowed to each slave for working his ‘own’ tiny holding, and with the remaining 65 days defined as Sabbaths or holy days.

Uniform Bank-of-England rules are clear-cut proof that Jews played a key role in Ireland’s Holocausts because the Bank of England is owned by seven Jewish ‘Illuminati’ bloodlines: Rothschild (Jewish); English monarchy Windsor (de facto Jewish); Oppenheimer (Jewish); Samuel (Jewish); Warburg (Jewish); Goldsmid (Jewish); Stern (Jewish).

MALTHUSIANISM DEBUNKED

Ireland has more arable land, resources, and better fishing grounds, than Japan, but Japan’s population peaked at 128 million in 2008. Ireland is almost thrice the size of Taiwan, which has a population of 23.6 million today. Those who claim that Ireland is just a ‘tiny scraggy island’ have been badly brainwashed by Malthusians or Eugenicists.

Every stomach is born with a pair of hands. The only issue was the plunder of their resources from the Irish people.

Ireland is not that small but, with an area of 84,421 km² (32,595 mi²), is about the same size as Maine or Indiana.

IRELAND’S GOLDEN AGE

Ireland’s Golden Age was characterized not just by rule by the Royal O’Neill, but by many missionaries too.

After the collapse of the Roman Empire, often dated to around 470, Irish missionaries (known as SCOTI because the Latin for Irishman was ‘Scotus’) worked to Christianize or re-Christianize much of Britain and Western Europe in the single greatest contribution Ireland ever made to mankind in world history. These SCOTI included:

1. Columbanus (or Colman) of Meath, Ireland, of Luxeuil, France, and of Bobbio, Italy;

2. Colmcille (or Columba) of Derry, Ireland, of Iona, Scotland, and of Lindisfarne, Northumbria, England;

3. Aidan (or Aodhán) of Ireland, and of Lindisfarne, Northumbria, England;

4. Fearghal (or Vergilius, or Virgil), of Ireland, of Iona, Scotland, and later the founder of Salzburg, Austria;

5. Killian (or Cillian) of Cavan, Ireland, and of Würzburg, Franconia, in today’s Germany;

6. Gallus (or Gall), of Ireland, and later the founder of St Gallen or St Gall, Switzerland;

7. Fridolin of Ireland, of Säckingen, Baden, Germany, and of Glarus, Switzerland;

8. Kevin (or Caoimhín) of Glendalough, Ireland;

9. Brigid (or Bríd) of Faughart and Kildare, Ireland;

10. Cathal (or Cataldo) of Munster, Ireland, and of Taranto, Italy;

11. Kolonat (or Colman) of Ireland, and of Würzburg, Franconia, Germany;

12. Totnan of Ireland, and of Würzburg, Franconia, Germany;

13. Ciarán (or Kieran) of Roscommon, Ireland, and of Clonmacnoise, Ireland;

14. Adomnán (or Eunan) of Tyrconnell-Donegal, Ireland, and of Iona, Scotland;

15. Mirren (or Mirin) of Bangor, Ireland, and of Paisley, Scotland;

16. Finan of Lough Currane, Kerry, Ireland, and of Lindisfarne, Northumbria, England;

17. Diuma (or Dwyna) of Ireland, and of Mercia, England;

18. Deicolus (or Domgall) of Leinster, Ireland, and of St Gallen or St Gall, Switzerland;

19. Gobain (or Gobannus, or Gabha) of Ireland and of Norfolk, England, and of Saint-Gobain, Aisne, France;

20. Garvan (or Garbhann, or Garbhán), of Waterford, Ireland, abbot and founder of Dungarvan;

21. Otteran (or Odran, or Oran) of Iona, Scotland, often described as a companion or a predecessor of Saint Colmcille (Columba);

22. Wasnulf or Wasnon of Ireland, and of Hainault, Belgium;

23. Fridianus of Ulster, Ireland, and of Lucca, Tuscany, Italy;

24. Fursey (or Fursa) of Connaught, Ireland, and of East Anglia, England;

25. Plechelm of Leinster, Ireland, and of De Lutte, Overijssel, in the Netherlands;

26. Marianus Scotus of Ireland, and of Regensburg (or Ratisbon), Bavaria, Germany;

27. Fiacre (or Fiachra) of Ireland, and of Breuil, France;

28. Cattan (or Catan, or Cattan) of Dál Riada, Ireland, and of the Isle of Bute, Scotland;

29. Maccai (or Machai, or Mahew) of Ireland, and the Isle of Bute, Scotland;

30. Johannes Scotus Eriugena, Irish theologian and philosopher who served as an advisor in the court of the Carolingian monarch Charles the Bald. Essentially, the Carolingians succeeded the Merovingians after 751.

RATIONALIZING IT ALL: WHY DID THE ENGLISH MONARCHY DO SO MUCH DAMAGE TO THE IRISH?

The only rational explanation for about 13 Irish Holocausts in 1169-1921 (some count just one continuous one) is that there was, and still is, something truly diabolical about the English monarchy, and that the British Regime was misguided by truly demonic forces demanding some kind of ‘payback’ from the Irish.

In 1154-1485, England was ruled by the francophone Norman dynasty whose full name was the House of Anjou-Plantagenêt. It was part of the titular Merovingian ‘Illuminati’ bloodline which still styles itself Sons of Cain (’Filii Cain’) and believes in the false doctrine of the ‘Serpent Seed.’ That false doctrine claims that the parents of Cain were Eve and Satan (sic), and that the ‘Illuminati’ have the ‘purest’ satanic blood on Earth. All others, they claim, are ‘inferior,’ non-’Illuminati,’ lower forms-of-life who descend from Adam (and Seth). The following graph shows the House of Plantagenêt (in those days still pronounced ‘Planta Zhenest’). It is divided into seven Anjou (Angevin), three Lancaster, and four York tyrants https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/timeline/gvh6m0mva5uye5pjmvw7e93f0cv4vwl.png. Henry II was the first English monarch of the House of Anjou. Gerald of Wales (’Giraldus Cambrensis’) often attested to the demonic origins of the House of Anjou by relating the story of the DEMONIC COUNT OF ANJOU who married a woman called MELUSINE, who was said to be the daughter of Satan, and who bore the title ‘Demonic Countess of Anjou.’ Although this may sound like ‘medieval folly,’ it is in fact precisely the kind of satanic irreligion that the Merovingian ‘Illuminati’ bloodline would proudly embody in its own family lore. Moreover, it may well be TRUE. This amazing narrative is also discussed here: [Source: https://nearlyknowledgeablehistory.blogspot.com/2020/08/from-devil-they-sprang-and-to-devil.html].

The 1970 documentary ‘Legend of the Witches’ (https://old.bitchute.com/video/NhC3rcuLIh5Z/) explains how the garter is the insignia of a witch. It then describes the Witchcraft Covens of the Order of the [Witch] Garter (at circa 31 minutes). The total number of witches, master-witches, and warlocks still ruling Britain today is 4,394 (i.e. 2 x 13 x 13 x 13, or 2 x 2,197). The same documentary claims that Guillaume le Bâtard (’William the Conqueror’) was born of a witch (Herleva of Falaise) and that he sported the sun-symbol of Lucifer on his banner during the Battle of Hastings (circa 28:30). This is more weighty evidence that the English monarchy is based on something incredibly diabolical.

So, the only rational explanation for why Henry II of Anjou revoked the personhood of all Irish men and women in 1172 (with this persisting for 621 years until 1793), and for why Ireland suffered at least 13 Holocausts in 752 years, is because the English monarchy sought to chastise the Irish for their successful Christianisation of much of Britain and Continental Europe in Ireland’s Golden Age. The only explanation is that this was all some kind of ‘payback.’

The TOTAL DELETION of Ireland’s Golden Age from British, Irish, and World History

Probably the greatest proof that ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ used Deuteronomy as its blueprint to absolutely destroy the Irish is that, after 1607, British propaganda and ‘history’ books airbrushed or deleted from the official-’truth’ story all remembrance of Ireland’s greatest royal house, the Royal O’Neill Dynasty, and all remembrance of Ireland’s Golden Age, when the Royal O’Neill ruled Ireland with 40 consecutive Irish High Kings in 479-1002 AD and when dozens of Irish missionaries helped to Christianise Europe. This cover-up was yet another huge crime committed by the English monarchy and by ‘Judeo-Anglicanism,’ and it is still being enacted by Britain’s ‘court historians’ today.

In blotting out Ireland’s memory, it is very obvious that ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ took its cue from Deuteronomy 25:19, which commands the Israelites: ‘You shall blot out the name of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget!’

1 Samuel 15:3 also repeats the ‘holy’ mission of ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ to kill the Irish: ‘Now go and smite Amalek and utterly destroy all that they have and spare them not; but slay both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and sheep, camel and ass.’ Today, British propaganda still suppresses all knowledge of Ireland’s Golden Age, when Ireland already demonstrated that it did not ‘need’ the English monarchy for anything whatsoever. But worst of all, British propaganda still suppresses how ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ deployed Deuteronomy and the Talmud to enact this.

Today, British ‘court historians’ still engage in the most preposterous mental gymnastics to hide Britain’s industrial genocide of the Irish for 752 years in 1169-1921, still covering up: The revocation of ‘legal’ personhood from most Irish for 621 years in 1172-1793; the ‘Canaanites Narrative’ to motivate the ‘brave’ and ‘pious’ (Judaic) armies; the true motives for the two Holocausts of 1845-1910; the ‘Holy’ Reformation’s genocide of 1.48 million Irish Catholics; how ‘Judeo-Anglicanism’ and ‘Judeo-Puritanism’ abused the Old Testament to ‘justify’ slaying the Irish, to ‘justify’ the ‘governance’ of the Irish by a lethal 313-year chastisement and finally to blot out the memory of the Irish so as to fulfill Deuteronomy 25:19. And to top it all, they still conceal Ireland’s almost 4,000-year-old High Kingship.

They bogusly claim that Irish Catholics ‘resisted’ joining Anglicanism; that Saint Patrick ‘Christianized the Irish’; that Ireland became ‘independent’ in 1921; that the wholly MI5+6-orchestrated Irish ‘Troubles’ of 1968-98 came about by pure ‘happenstance’; plus countless other provably-ludicrous claims besides.

IRISH ‘FREEDOM’

Some trace the REAL DATE of Irish ‘freedom’ to 1928, when Al Smith became the first Irish-Catholic candidate in a US presidential election and when the Irish had finally broken through the barrier of the ‘British Israel’ Psychopathy. Furthermore, after 1928, the English monarchy’s utter and deranged hatred of Irish ‘Canaanites’ no longer mattered much anymore (or, at least, that DID seem to be true until the COVID-PHARMA GENOCIDE suddenly surprised the Irish yet again). Some opine that only the King of Kings can ever free the Irish, and repair Ireland, ever again.

Over the centuries, many Irish people rationalized that the end of the British Empire would mean the end of all evil. But, clearly, they were wrong.

THE FUTURE?

Throughout the 1970s, any child could hear the phrase ‘After all they DID to us!’ repeated in any living-room in Ireland; and many children wondered exactly why adults kept echoing that phrase. But, Irish folks were really wrong to think they were ‘now free,’ and that it was ‘now all over.’ Today, we can say for sure: Little did they know!

At this stage, maybe only the KING OF KINGS can repair Ireland ever again. Irish tradition says that the Irish High Kingship began in 1934 BC (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_High_Kings_of_Ireland). So, in 2066, it will be 4,000 years old.

But if the Irish are really, really lucky, maybe the KING OF ALL KINGS will deign to repair Ireland, and to restore the Royal O’Neill to its rightful place?

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Sean Lemass, Taoiseach before the deluge

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