Conor Cruise O’Brien in 1973
Kevin writes:
On foot of the first part of RTE’s documentary three=part series Crimes And Confessions [examining the most notorious miscarriages of justice from the 1970s and 1980s especially the methods of the Gardai] which was aired on RTE television last evening, the coming week is going to be a stressful one for members of the broad political movement Continuity Conor Cruise O’Brien, foot soldiers and big shot columnists alike.
Last evening’s episode made repeated, and in the opinion of some in the greater Howth Hill area, gratuitous use of the term “heavy gang“, a phrase which brings your average fan of the 1973-77 Fine Gael-Labour Coalition government out in raging hives. Near the end of last evening’s episode, the great Dr O’Brien himself is shown in a most unflattering light which, in the eyes of some misguided young people, may make him look like a kind of poor man’s General Pinochet.
The second episode, which airs next Monday January 17 on RTE at 9.35pm promises to be such unpleasant viewing that many Conor Cruise O’Brien fans will spend the next week face down in dark rooms, without so much as another Fintan O’Toole column about Brexit (or how it’s all the Provos fault) to hand. If you are a carer for, or relative of, a member of Continuity Conor Cruise O’Brien, feel free to print out this poem and mop their brow with it. We owe them that much.
To The Man Who Defines Ireland
When telling us, as a nation, to cop on to ourselves
you spit the words Provo
or workers’ paradise like a lady
trying to rid her mouth of sour milk.
But your voice is church bells and sunshine
pouring down on Kingstown Harbour, circa 1913
when you put your tongue across the syllables
Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth.
The greatest thing to come out of Crumlin
since the curried chips
that made a young Phil Lynott
question his lifestyle choices.
You are politically and philosophically serious
as a second division footballer’s fashion sense,
circa 1977; or a stockbroker last seen exiting
a high-end house of great repute
wearing a thirteen gallon hat;
or a guy in a white linen jacket
who’ll end up wandering O’Connell Street
shouting against Home Rule.
And without you, we’d not be ourselves.
For you are our national anticonvulsant
without which we’d be in danger
of actually doing something.
RTE
Thanks Kevin,will try catch that on the player,the poem is great,nicely done.
O Brian was a terrible politician and a fascist minister
another case of the ideas often great in his books to be judged not the man as a politician
my uncle paddy (private william patrick davis) was killed in the niemba ambush in the congo back in the early 60s. the mere mention of o’brien’s name in our house is liable to cause a row.
what a prick.
Darling of our troops that put their lives at risk at jadotville
For decades treated as a bad smell by our governments
Only now with grudge they are recognised in some form
I love that you used darling.
david, you’re a treasure.
Next they will be claiming the Heavy Gang never existed.
…great stuff Kevin…a great example of revenge being a dish best eaten cold…the cruiser was a thoroughly obnoxious character…
I imagine Our Kevs heros would include Pontious Pilate.
I laugh at how the term contrarian is used these days as a euphemism for a thundering, horrible onanist.
Contrarian my bottome, a self satisfied, smug willy whose last act was his best.
he Gardaí had found out from a suspect the location of businessman Tiede Herrema, o brian was informed “the escort started asking him questions and when at first he refused to answer, they beat the shit out of him. Then he told them where Herrema was”.”/ Cruise O’Brien explained, “I refrained from telling this story to [ministerial colleagues] Garret [FitzGerald] or Justin [Keating], because I thought it would worry them. It didn’t worry me
You think it’s a bad thing they found out where he was?
Awful man. O’Brien and Liam Cosgrave were a disaster for this country.