Crime Favourites gardai

The Brothers of Charity:– Raping Your Children Since 1883 !!

Did you know that our government made a deal with the religious orders to cover their costs in the Residential Institutions Redress Board? Of course you did: I told you HERE.

And did you know that the corresponding cost to the tax-payer of child-abuse by religious orders is currently in excess of one thousand two hundred million euros? Of course you did.

And did you know that the religious orders will never hand out a penny more than the €128 million they agreed in a confidential deal with our government, no matter how high the final settlements go? A deal agreed in secret with one of Bertie Ahern’s former employers by his minister, Michael Woods, at a meeting from which the attorney general was excluded.

€2 billion.

€3 billion.

€4 billion Who cares?

It doesn’t matter to the priests and the brothers who carried out the rapes. You’re going to cover their bill whether you like it or not, and they can continue selling off their extensive lands to property developers at a handsome profit, thanks to you. Let’s have a big hand for YOU, you generous old tax-payer, you.

At the time, we were told that the rationale for covering a single cent of this money was this: the State put the children into the hands of these monsters, and therefore shared responsibility for the abuse.

Well, today this has been shown up as a lie, a fraud and an assault on our democracy by the most corrupt government this country has ever known.

Today, you see, marked the release of the McCoy report on the sexual abuse of disabled children over a period of thirty years by the Brothers of Charity in Galway. Publication of the report, which details physical violence, beatings, floggings, anal rape and torture of children with Down syndrome, autism and a range of other conditions, was delayed for eight years by the religious order whose activities it exposes. Flogging children with Down syndrome! Even I’m boggled by this, cynical and hardened though I am. Floggings!

Furthermore, when the public started to grow angry, these Brothers of Charity hired people to train their staff in child abuse. But when these people started to ask hard questions, they were sacked. Not only that: any staff members willing to co-operate with investigations were quickly got rid of.

Now. To the report.

One of the astounding aspects of the whole thing is that the Brothers of Charity were given a say in the terms of reference of the original inquiry. Can you believe that? I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that in a properly-functioning society, the police would not be consulting suspected child-rapists. It seems to me that they’d be breaking their doors down and tear-gassing anyone who tried to stop them, but not apparently in Ireland. What does that say about our police?

What’s more, only thirty victims were interviewed: over a hundred others have claimed to the Redress Board.

I wasn’t going to say anything about the actual report, but having read it, what strikes me hardest is how intellectually weak it is. This was clearly written by a committee most comfortable in a world of clichés and social-worker-speak. Thus, abused children are service users.

There’s also a very worrying acceptance of the sort of cant that absolves religious leaders from responsibilities. Read this and see what you think:

In common with the general population there was a lack of awareness amongst staff of the issue of sexual abuse until the topic gained media attention in the late 1980s. When it became apparent that some service users had been sexual abused, staff were genuinely shocked.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

That statement contains a lot of assumptions. When I and my friends went to a Christian Brothers school at the age of seven, we all knew about those being abused and so did everyone else. What’s this lack of awareness among the general population all about? Anyone who tells you they didn’t know is a liar, and that gives me serious cause for concern about this report.

Does anyone remember kindly old Cardinal Cahal Daly Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucketabsolving himself of responsibility for that evil bastard Brendan Smyth by claiming the bishops didn’t understand sexual abuse? Just like they knew nothing about heterosexual relationships, which is why they never said a word about divorce or contraception, right?

The report was clearly written by a committee of lightweights who had no idea how to get to the point, and who were more concerned about the presentation than the substance. Likewise, to judge by the sloppily-written text, nobody seems to have cared if the report was readable.

The uncritical tone starts early. According to the report:

It is clear from the records reviewed that both former and current service users and former and current staff have been frank and open in regard to their experiences. Without this openness it would not have been possible to produce any report.

Hmm. I wonder if the dismissed staff would agree with that?

According to the report’s introduction,

The Brother of Charity Services were saddened and concerned that abuse may have occurred in their services in the past?

Oh, were they now?


Not desolate?

Not remorseful?

Not heartbroken ?



Saddened, the sad bastards.

And concerned !!


The Brothers of Charity were concerned that abuse may have occurred.

Read that carefully now. The managers of the rapists are concerned that abuse may have occurred.

These pathetic little men can’t even admit at this late stage that their pals were raping disabled children for years, and I have to wonder why. Is it because the Brothers of Charity can’t see anything wrong with sexually abusing children?

May have occurred? Who said this? Oh God, wouldn’t I love to have this mealy-mouthed swine in front of me. I swear to you, I would tear this motherfucker to pieces.

May have occurred? Are you calling these abused people liars, you pathetic child-abusing bastard?

People, be very fucking angry, for this is what preceded modern Ireland, and these people haven’t gone away. They are still there, and the same sexually-disordered little men and women, who cast doubt on the word of the abused, are still strutting in front of you, in positions of power, granted to them by our corrupt government. These people, in their own way, are still raping abused children.

When they dismissed members of staff for co-operating with the investigations, were the saintly Brothers showing the same Christian concern? And when they were moving rapists from one school to another in pursuit of their victims, were the kindly monks equally saddened that it was necessary to sodomise so many disabled children?

Here’s the inquiry team:

Dr. Elizabeth Healy (Chair)
The Chair’s work with the Inquiry ceased in January 2006 for personal reasons.

Ms. Dawn Glynn, Acting Senior Clinical Psychologist
Returned to her substantive post with effect from 28th August 2001.

Ms. Siobhan Burke, Clinical Psychologist
Returned to her substantive post with effect from 25th June, 2001.

Ms. Pat Melody-Dunne, Manager, Residential Centre
Availed of a Career Break with effect from 1st March, 2000.

Ms. Jill Osborne, Social Worker
Resigned from Inquiry Team with effect from 11th May, 1999.

Ms. Ann Wall, Social Worker
Membership agreed to 3lst August, 1999.

Eh, do you notice any gaps here?

Any gaps at all?

Here’s a hint: we’re talking about multiple rapes and violent assault, otherwise known as crime. Do you notice any police involved in the investigation?

No. Neither did I.

Chapter Four tells us :

Child abuse is a highly complex issue, which does not easily lend itself to definitions or measurement.

Sorry: a cleric with his dick up a disabled child’s arse is not a complex issue, in my humble, non-social-worker-trained opinion. That’s a fucking pervert who should be in jail. The end.

The report then goes on to engage in all sorts of definitions of abuse which look to me like they were lifted straight out of Child Abuse for First-Year Sociology Students (Pass Course). It’s becoming clearer why this report took eight years to publish: we didn’t have a bunch of Einsteins looking into these crimes. We had a bunch of fucking social workers.

I’m angry. I’m angry, just reading their insipid prose that masks the reality of the brutal treatment these children received.

Let me give you an example. Let’s look at the euphemism challenging behaviour.

Some people in what they’re pleased to call the caring professions like to use neutral language. Value-free language, such as challenging behaviour.

Let me say this: when children are being raped, neutral language and value-free thinking has no relevance. That’s why the mindset behind the following paragraph has absolutely no place investigating the crimes perpetrated at Kilcornan. This is the tyranny of the bland:

The challenging behaviour of some clients was a big issue in the general management of service users in Kilcornan. Some psychology staff had developed a special interest in this issue and had developed an extensive knowledge base. A Challenging Behaviour Team was established to monitor challenging behaviour and develop strategies for its management. Quite extensive training in challenging behaviour had been provided for staff and a procedure for the management of incidents had been developed. However, some interviewees still did not seem to have a clear understanding of why they had to make written records relating to the management of challenging behaviour in individual cases. The purpose of collecting the data required by the Challenging Behaviour Team seemed not to be fully understood.

Service users. It sounds like something written by the rejects from the Christmas choir.

Did you ever in your entire life read anything as bloodless?

They’re talking about raped children, but they can’t bring themselves to transcend their straitjacket of jargon. They can’t write about raped abused children because that would be unprofessional. Not detached enough.

Service users.

What sad bastards.

This paragraph tells you all you need to know about the failings of the Irish health service. It shows you the drab, unimaginative people who have somehow been handed power in that organisation, and it tells me that there is little hope of progress.

I’m not going to bore you with the rest of their definitions about intellectual disability, their quotes from the WHO and UNESCO or their talk of challenging behaviour. Read it for yourself if you must.

All I’m going to tell you is that the report, unsurprisingly, blames nobody for all the rapes and sexual abuse. Blame is not a permitted word within this mindset. I’m just going to tell you that somebody in the Western Health Board managed to delay the publication of this report – insipid though it might be – for eight years, by means unknown. All I’m going to tell you is that the police stood back from a catalogue of violent rapes and are still doing nothing. All I’m going to say is that the abusers are still in charge of the kids, and the government that gave the abusers €1.2 billion are still in power.

Decide for yourself. You’re an adult.

Lucky you.



What Is Desmond Connell Trying To Keep Secret?

Criminal responsibility

The heart of darkness

Memories of a violent teacher

Oh those feckin old bishops!

Brady Gets the Red Hat

Report on Inquiry


Limerick Churches

When I was small, my auntie used to take me to the churches around Limerick . It was great being a kid in those days. Spooky exorcist shit: plaster saints and candles and all that Hollywood stuff, but almost free. No entrance fee except you had to put some money into a shiny box if you wanted to light a candle.

I remember them so well. The Augustinians – the church with the best drainpipes in Limerick. It was easy to climb them because they were square and easy to hold on to. The church had a flat roof you could play football on it, like Brian Crowley did,wherever he lived,, and fall off and got paralysed as well, like he did. I nearly did that once, leaping over a parapet and gazing down into a forty-foot drop. I still don’t know how I seemed to just stop myself and fall back. Frightened.

Let’s not forget the Franciscans. The good old Franciscans, the humblest of them all, in open-toed sandals and simple friars’ robes just like Saint Francis, their team captain. Songbirds landing on their hands: hello St Francis, can I have a nut? So fucking humble that when a nearby block was being redeveloped, they vetoed an upper floor on the building because they didn’t want their views of the River Shannon obstructed.

Let’s see now. Where else? Oh right, of course. How could I forget the Redemptorists, or, as we serfs knew them, the Holy Fathers? The Holy Fathers. The saintly, wise Holy Fathers with their arch-confraternity. The good, decent Holy Fathers who were behind the only pogrom in Ireland that I’m aware of. Maybe you know of another, in which case you can email me and I’ll be happy to publish the details. I’m proud to say that my parents never sent me to the confraternity because they held the fuckers in contempt, and so I was spared that quasi-fascist shite, but sadly, my home town of Limerick was not.

Moving right along here, you had the new churches that looked like crashed aeroplanes, and we won’t talk about them. They were designed by a fucking fool called the Chevalier Sheahan, a sort of architect with a plume of feathers on his head for special occasions. He was called the Chevalier because he got some kind of a kiss on the back of the bollocks from the Pope of his time. (Hey: I told you this used to be Albania!) He was a sort of architect, though he had no formal qualifications at all except for a loud mouth, a thick neck and the ear of some fucking bishop. A miser and a good Catholic who treated his staff like shit, I’m told. A Christian man. We’ll come back to this guy some day, I promise.

Saint Michael’s was great. It has the real Saint Michael on the roof still to this day, killing the Serpent with a lance. Take that, you fucking serpent, he’s saying in Latin. He was one of the Archangels: the guys with special powers. I think Saint Michael’s special power was that he could curse in Latin.

But my special favourite was the Dominicans. Not because of the paintings on the ceiling, though they were impressive. Old naked guys with beards waving at each other: how’s it goin’ Boss? Not even because of the side altars they had, full to the brim with spooky plaster saints. No. What I loved was a piece of plumbing outside the church. A steel tank, rectangular, proto-cuboid, perhaps two metric feet by two metric feet by one deep. Grey-painted and not much to look at. With a small tap at one extremity, about two metric inches from the bottom.

I nearly forgot to mention that the Dominicans were the people behind the Inquisition, a fact that leaves me feeling a little uneasy. What if they should take exception to anything said here? Would it be the Iron Maiden for me? Probably not, as they were forbidden to shed blood, out of Christian mercy. More likely, it would involve multiple dislocations, breaking on the Wheel, and perhaps a bit of racking, followed by the Boot. Since childhood, I’ve admired the evil ecclesiastical genius who came up with the Boot. Saint Plumbum, perhaps?

Where were we? Tank. Tap. Yes. Holy water. A tank of holy water, that my beloved auntie could use to replenish the Baby Powers bottle for the font in the hall, without disturbing the tranquillity of the saintly fathers. Glug glug into the bottle.

In those days, people went through a lot of holy water.

Well, here comes the chemistry. You see, in my childish error, I thought that every night, one of these saintly gentlemen appeared on the roof and zapped some holiness into the tank for tomorrow’s pilgrims. It’s the least you’d expect, isn’t it? A crash of thunder. Some lightning, and there he is on the parapet. Spiderman! Or Dracula.

But no. Not a bit of it. It seems the tank worked the same as a toilet. When it was empty, a ball-float simply dropped down and let more water in, just like the cistern in your bathroom. Nobody ever went near the fucker.

So, I asked my little nine-year-old brain. How, who, what, when, what the fuck?

Simple. The good Fathers’ reasoning was impeccable, befitting a community of their erudition. The two inches between the bottom of the tank and the tap meant that there was always some holy water in there. The knowledge of ullage, you see, gleaned in college. Glowing H2O particles forever transiting in Brownian serenity. And because you can’t dilute holiness, they just let the blessed molecules mingle with the mortal.

Do you remember a chap by the name of Avogadro? Maybe not, but it doesn’t matter. Avogadro did the scientific groundwork that allowed scientists to quantify the number of molecules in any small amount of stuff, and it works out to be precisely one metric fuck-load. You see, there are so many molecules in even the slightest quantity of water that they irradiate the whole lot with their holiness. Brilliant. That’s productivity.


If I called up to the Dominicans today, filled a Baby Powers bottle with their holy water and then tossed it into the majestic River Shannon, thereby to convey it to the sea, wouldn’t it be safe to assume that in short order the entire Atlantic would be holy water? A weapon of mass-sanctification.

Or perhaps the salt would neutralise it.

Customs Religion

Fuck off, St Patrick


What are we celebrating? Some Welsh [tag]religious[/tag] nutcase arrived over here and filled us with a load of bullshit that eventually went on to become the Irish [tag]Catholic[/tag] church? The most dysfunctional and oppressive organisation ever to screw up the Irish people?

This we should celebrate?

No surprise that people drink excessively on St Patrick’s Day. It’s probably the best way to blot out the memories of stupidity, greed, tyranny and abuse inflicted on the Irish people by the bastards that fucker Patrick introduced to us.

What was wrong with the laid-back fun-loving, relatively equal society that Patricius barged into with all his talk of hell and guilt and damnation, and all the other mentally-ill bullshit these proto-Catholics were so fond of? [Hint: Nothing!]

By the way, who selected the 17th March as St Patrick’s Day? It has to have been some miserable old bishop, doesn’t it?

Hmmm. Let me see now. July? No. They’d enjoy it too much. August? Ah no. The girls would be sunbathing and getting me excited. I know! We’ll have it in the middle of March when the weather is dreary and wet and cold and miserable. Great idea. That’s how we’ll do it.

But enough of this begrudgery. I’m off now to wait for the parade. God, I just love watching dozens of fat girls with frozen blue legs and double chins. And as for the ancient Americans staggering down the middle of the street and waving at us? Oh stop. The excitement is too much.

kick it on

Politics Religion

Bipolar Disorder: the Blues Brothers

Do you know the Kaczynski twins?

No, they’re not a band. Jaroslaw Kaczynski is the Prime Minister of Poland and his identical twin brother Lech Kaczynski is the President. That’s some achievement, wouldn’t you say?

Here’s Lech:

And here’s Jaroslaw:

Here they are together:

Now, the Kaczynski boys are extreme Catholics of the kind we used to have in power in Ireland not so long ago and if there’s one thing they hate, it’s gays. They hate the queers. They fucking hate them. They can’t stand the fuckers. When Lech Kaczynski was Mayor of Warsaw, or President or something, he banned a gay rally, even though the rally was perfectly legal. They’re kind of the Justin Barrett of Poland. In stereo. And with an education.

Anyway, Lech is in Dublin at the moment (or maybe it’s Jaroslaw), and he was giving out shit about queers at some debate he was at.

Fuck them, he said in Polish. In Poland, we fling them into the sea and make them frighten sea-horses. Fucking arse-bandits!

Or else, if the translation wasn’t entirely accurate, he might have said We in Poland hope to work in harmony with our Irish fellow-Europeans for a better economic future together. But fuck those queers and also those fucking Polish fuckers who work here in Ireland when they should be back home in Polish Catholic fatherland paying taxes to me!! Bastards!!!! Fuck you MacKozer, I’ll find out where you live!

Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe it was Jaroslaw who said, or didn’t say, these terrible things about queers and emigrant Poles.

Don’t knock the idea, by the way, of twin brothers ruling a country. Didn’t we, for years here in Ireland, have identical indistinguishable parties fighting elections against each other?

Don’t we still?

Previously: here

Favourites gardai Policing Scandal

The Heart of Darkness

Dalkey is one of the most charming and salubrious of South Dublin suburbs, retaining most of the character it used to have when it was just a village, clinging to the edge of Dublin Bay. These days, it’s full of bistros. Art galleries. Bijou residences for a million bucks a shot. In its way, it would remind you of Cornwall fishing villages like St Ives and Mousehole. Charming.

Walk around Dalkey today, and you’ll still hear some of the old accents, in spite of all the brash young tigers who crowded in there over recent years, as if somehow the old ways are being unconsciously preserved because people remember the good old days.

Good old days like 1973, when an eleven-year-old girl gave birth to a baby conceived in her family home at White’s Villas. The good old days when a woman relative killed the baby with a knitting needle in the same family home, put it in a plastic bag, and dragged the traumatised little girl out with her to get rid of it. The same woman who pushed the little girl into the sea from the edge of the charming fishing-village pier, and then dragged her to an alleyway to dump the bag, for the dogs to find.

Two, and perhaps three, of that family have since committed suicide amid allegations of abuse. Children in that house, it seems, existed only for the gratification of adults, and for the use of perverts, or “friends of the family”, as they are described. One broken young girl wrote a thirty-page suicide note detailing all manner of vile sexual abuse by close relatives and others but her mother doesn’t believe the note: the young girl, on the point of suicide, apparently found time to invent a pack of lies.

There are suggestions that the children were being routinely sold to child abusers, for sexual and satanic rites.

That’s correct.

I said satanic.

And when you have the sort of people who involve themselves in satanic rituals, you always have an organisation, and you always have people from every walk of life and every level of influence involved.

So when the baby was discovered, what happened? You would imagine that our police would throw all available resources at it, wouldn’t you? Of course you would. So what did they do?

Did they listen to the little eleven-year-old girl? No.

Did they preserve the scene? No.

Did they examine the evidence? No.

What about the body – did they carry out any tests? No: they allowed it to be buried in a communal grave so that it became intermingled with the remains of hundreds of other infants.

As for the bag that the baby was put in, well they just lost it.

The eleven-year-old is now grown up. Her name is Cynthia Owen, and she described to the Dublin coroner’s court being abused by a group of at least nine men. Last Friday, a jury at the inquest finally believed her story. Dublin coroner’s court found that the baby was that of Cynthia Owen (then Murphy) and that the cause of death was stabbing.

There are so many disturbing questions it’s hard to know where to begin. On the night Cynthia was dragged out by the woman to dump the baby, two Gardai stopped and questioned them before letting them go. No record was kept of this. No fingerprints were taken from the bag, nor were there any tests on certain other material inside it. No blood samples were taken. It’s not clear that any meaningful investigation was carried out, or that the little girl received any treatment or was even seen by a physician.

When Cynthia was asked in the Coroner’s court why she didn’t tell the two Gardai what had happened, the Coroner intervened to explain that there were external reasons. What? What external reasons would have made an eleven-year-old afraid to approach the police about a rape and murder? I know why the Coroner felt he couldn’t go down that road, but I also think the implications are very disturbing.

This incident raises such serious questions about the institutions of our State that it eclipses all the tribunals that have so far taken place and all the previous child-abuse inquiries. If pursued fully, it has the potential to explain why this State for years tolerated blatant abuse of children by people in positions of privilege, from Daingean to Letterfrack, to Artane, and in the Diocese of Wexford and in all the other schools and parishes across the country. But it also has the potential to completely destroy careers and even entire organisations.

That’s why I haven’t much confidence that it will be investigated properly.

After all, we live in a country where our Prime Minister declared that he didn’t want an organisation to become bankrupt just because its officers had abused thousands of children. He was talking about the Catholic church, to whom he gave a blank cheque using tax-payers’ money, with a bill currently running at about €1,200,000,000. Contrast that with the Catholic diocese of San Diego which today announced that it would have to file for bankruptcy because of the compensation payments it had to make as a result of clerical abuse.

If our government will go that far to protect the Catholic church, imagine what it would do to protect the institutions of State. We have seen the extent of corruption in the Gardai exposed by the Morris Tribunal, and yet there has been no root-and-branch review, just the odd disciplinary action against some individuals. I think the Dalkey case carries within it the possibility to torpedo the Garda Siochana and possibly the Department of Justice, and I don’t think any government will countenance that. As old Denning said: it’s an appalling vista.

It doesn’t matter to any government if it’s all true.


Interesting article on a more recent murder in the same vicinity.



Politics Religion Scandal

Locating a children’s hospital

Excuse me, Taoiseach?

Eh-eh-eh-eh howya, Brendan? Are youse – I mean you – here about the poor little sick kids?

Yes, Taoiseach. I have the full report for you on the national children’s hospital.

Eh, no, no, Brendan. Just like, gimme da main bitsss.

Very well, Taoiseach. Well, we have a number of options for you. There’s an offer from a group of public-spirited businessmen.

Ya wha’?

Rich people who want to help. They propose to build the new hospital on a green-field site, adjacent to the main road network.

Eh, no, B-b-b-b-brendan. Tha-tha-that won’t do.


No. No, I tink it should be in da inner siddy. In da Mater.

They make the point that parents will be able to drive their sick children directly to the hospital door. Unlike the inner city.

No. Soon there’ll be trains to the inner siddy, an’ buses, and planes an’ every bleedin ting. Why can’t dey just shove the kids on a tram? Dey can’t be dat bleedin sick.

The consortium will provide the hospital to the State at no profit to themselves.

Never. We don’t need their bleedin charity. Dis is da Seltic Tiger.

Taoiseach, they make the point that their proposed site will be large and open, with room for expansion, and large green spaces for the children to walk in, recuperate or even to play. With sunlight and fresh air.

Inner siddy! Da Mater.

Taoiseach, they also point out that there will be much more space for parents to stay with their sick children. This will reduce the burden on staff and ease the children’s anxieties.

Inner siddy! Inner siddy! Inner siddy! We’ll build it fifteee stawreys high if we hafta.

Taoiseach, if I may ask an indelicate question?

Go go go go ahead Brendan.

Well, Taoiseach, I notice that you already agreed a deal on another matter with the Sisters of Mercy at the Mater Hospital. I gather that their Sister Helena O’Donoghue made an agreement with you. It seems the taxpayer picks up almost all the costs of the religious orders regarding child sexual abuse.

Yeh. Da poor little kids.

Indeed. One thousand two hundred million euros, I gather. And I notice that you also paid the same nuns twenty million pounds to buy their hospital?

Yeh. Eh, eh, I can’t remember how much it was. I was gettin divorced at the time.

But you gave them back control of it after paying them the money.

Ah, yeh. I forgot.

And now, you want to locate the national children’s hospital on their site?

Yeh. Dass it.

Correct me if I’m wrong, Taoiseach, but didn’t you once work in the Mater Hospital as some sort of financial controller?

Yeh. Jaysus Brendan, they have me by the bollocks.




kick it on

Crime Religion Scandal

Seán (can I call you that?)

Archbishop Seán Brady
Co Down

18th December 2006

Dear Archbishop Brady,

May I call you Seán? I read your comments in the paper today, and I have to tell you that I agree completely with almost everything you said. You’re quite right that there’s more coarseness and aggression in Irish society than there used to be. You’re also correct in saying that there’s a lot more drinking and sexualisation of children at too early an age. Fair play to you for pointing it out.

I’m glad for you that you’ve learned so much in the last ten years about the suffering of abuse victims. This is a good thing for you. Also, I’m sorry you’ve seen a decline to zero in the numbers of people joining your priesthood. That’s terrible, for you.

I’m glad you’re so committed to child protection. This is very encouraging.

Seán, (can I call you that?), I grew up in an Ireland where your church demanded complete obedience. I grew up in an Ireland where your church thought it had the right to dictate to the government on what laws it passed. I grew up in an Ireland where bishops like you thought they could tell the Irish people how to vote.

Seán (can I call you that?), you’d do well not to be talking about the sexualisation of children. Your colleague and predecessor, Cathal Daly, declared that he had no authority over that child-abuser, Brendan Smyth, because he was a member of a religious order. It didn’t stop you, Seán (can I call you that?) from silencing an Augustinian priest in Dundalk who did no more than share an act of communion with some protestants. An act of love.

Seán (can I call you that?), if you think there’s a moral vacuum in Ireland, you’re dead right. You see, in the Ireland I grew up in, people like you demanded total obedience, and the Irish people set aside their critical faculties in your favour, because they thought you knew everything. No civic society developed because you, Seán (can I call you that?), took charge of the whole lot and decided where people could dance, what they could wear and who they could talk to.

So, Seán (can I call you that?), is it really any surprise that, when your people are exposed as money-grabbing, child-abusing, power-mad hypocrites, there might be a small bit of a moral vacuum?

I think not, Seán (can I call you that?).




They just don’t get it . . .

Politics Religion Scandal

Oh, the Sisters of Mercy, they are not departed or gone.

You might have seen this Bock rant a little while back concerning the deal made between our government and the RC religious orders whereby we, the taxpayers pay all but 127 million euros of compensation claims. This might seem like a lot of money for the religious orders to pay, until you realise that the bill is currently 1,200,000,000 euros. One thousand two hundred million euros, and rising.

This agreement was made in the dying days of the last government by that egregious little weasel, Michael Woods, a man widely believed to be a member of Opus Dei.

You might like to have a bit more detail on the negotiations that led to this incredible deal. At the time, Michael McDowell was Attorney General, and attended most of the discussions between Woods and the nuns. However, Woods excluded McDowell and his officials from the two crucial meetings where he agreed to use our money to underwrite most of the religious orders’ liabilities.

Woods is quoted as saying at the time, “The legal people simply couldn’t have attended – it was a no-go area for them – they had fallen out with the religious.”

Now what exactly does that mean? It appears to mean that the nuns, who were representing the abusers and rapists, could dictate to an elected minister of this land which people were allowed to attend discussions on compensating their victims. It appears that they (Sister O’Donoghue et al) were further allowed to veto the attendance of the highest law officer in this land at a meeting where it was decided how much State money would be given to the abusers to get them out of trouble.

Woods went on to say, “My religion was an asset.”

Why? It wasn’t a religious issue. It was about how much money the State would take from rapists and give to their victims. It wasn’t – or at least, shouldn’t – have been a matter of negotiation, but that was what Woods and his fellow ministers allowed it to become, with the nuns laying down the rules on behalf of the child-rapists.

Afterwards, Woods commended the “helpfulness and generosity” of the Church during the negotiations. The Church had not only given guidance, he said, but also property. He was nearly being truthful here. What actually happened was this: the day before the crucial meeting from which the Attorney General was excluded, the Department of Education wrote to the Orders, agreeing that land which had been handed over to the State in the past by the Orders would count as part of the agreed payment. This was something the State’s team had resisted right up to that moment. A miracle!

Question for you. Why was a Minister of our government meeting these people at all? Why weren’t they simply informed by a letter from a civil servant how much the State was going to take from them? You raped kids and now we’re taking all your money, Fuck off. Yours sincerely.

All of this was negotiated by the formidable Sister Helena, who’s in the news again for another deeply Christian act.

Janette Byrne is a 39-year-old Dublin woman who was treated for cancer at the Mater hospital. It was only after securing a High Court order that Janette Byrne was able to force the Mater hospital to provide the necessary bed for her chemotherapy. She subsequently wrote a book called “If It Were Just Cancer”, which detailed the dirty and chaotic conditions she experienced in the hospital. You’d imagine the nuns would be glad for the feedback, wouldn’t you?

Ah, no. This is Helena we’re talking about here. Instead, the good Christian nuns hired a law firm to threaten the publishers unless they remove certain passages which “caused great distress.” Who exactly felt distressed we don’t know: after all, the Irish Nurses’ Organisation agrees with Janette’s point of view. Presumably it was Helena who felt great distress at being disagreed with. As any power freak will tell you, it is not pleasant to have the little people, or even an Attorney General, disagree with one.

Last year, Helena and her nun-buddies were in the news again, when they objected to trials of a drug for lung cancer patients. Why? Because the manufacturer advises people not to become pregnant while taking the life-saving drug. That was too much for Helena. Compassion for dying patients is one thing, but contraception? Never!!

You can’t have people taking contraceptive thingies. No. We won’t stand for it!

And so they blocked the trials.

Bizarrely, the nuns don’t own the hospital any more: they sold it to the State in 2001 for the equivalent of 22 million euros, but they made an agreement that the Catholic ethos would still prevail in the hospital. They have several nuns on the Board of the hospital, including a “director of mission effectiveness”. Think about that, now. The State gave them a big pile of money when it could easily have built a new hospital with no nuns involved. And after handing them the cash, it gave them back control of the place anyway! (This, incidentally, was the same year Michael Woods agreed the child-rapist support deal with Helena).

Where are we now? Well, Helena’s golden touch hasn’t deserted her yet.

A consortium of public-spirited businessmen offered to acquire the land, design and build a new national children’s hospital on the N7 near Newlands Cross in Dublin, at no profit to themselves. For anybody who doesn’t know the area, this is an easily accessible location near the Red Cow roundabout with easy access from the North via the M50 and the South via the N7. There are several hotels nearby.

What did the government do? It chose instead to locate the national children’s hospital on the existing Mater site, which is located in North inner-city Dublin, squeezed between Dorset Street, Eccles Street and the North Circular Road, with no room for expansion, constant traffic gridlock and no public transport, no-place for parents to park and no-place for them to stay overnight to be near their sick child. If you want to get your child quickly to the Mater at rush-hour, well, tough shit! You can’t. Because in this supposedly incredibly rich nation, we have no public transport system.

We also appear to have no government except Helena and her buddies. I wonder what they have on Bertie? Didn’t he once work in the Mater as a book-keeper?


Also on Bock

The Feast of the Blessed Condescension


Elsewhere: Conan Drumm

Politics Religion Scandal

The Feast of the Blessed Condescension

This article was first published in November 2006



Isn’t there some big Catholic thing coming up soon, in early December? The Immaculate Assumption, or the Holy Dispersal. Something of that sort, anyway. The Blessed Emulsification, maybe.

In the past, it was the day when all the farmers used to head for their nearest urban centre to get completely blunted in the pub while the missus noodled around the shops buying cocaine and vibrators, but those days are long gone. Now, in the new Celtic Aardvark Ireland, rural people no longer need to visit their local town in huge hordes on the feast of the Unmissable Contraction. Certainly not. These days, rural people are all over in Dubai with their accountants in early December, trying to figure out how much their patch of mud is worth now. Bastards.

It wasn’t always like this. It wasn’t always money money money. Oh no.

Actually, that’s not true. It was always about money. Let me give you a case in point.

Recently, the Comptroller and Auditor General issued a report about the payments by the Residential Institutions Redress Board to victims of clerical abuse. The latest figure is 1.2 billion euros. Let me repeat that. One thousand two hundred million euros.

Now, what do you think this money is for? Is it because the government think these people deserve a holiday and could do with a few bob to help them go to Malaga?


Is it because the people who claimed are so damn nice you couldn’t refuse them?

No, it isn’t.

Well, maybe it’s because the Catholic Church has decided to share some of its vast wealth with poor people, in line with the teaching of Jesus?

Ah come on now! You have to be joking surely? The Catholic Church follow Jesus’s teaching?

No. It’s none of the above. The people have been awarded the money to partially make up for the fact that they were physically, sexually and psychologically abused by priests, nuns and monks. Read that again carefully. Abused by priests by priests, nuns and monks. Not, you will notice, by postmen, police, nurses, dog wardens or any other employee of the State. Children were raped, beaten and psychologically abused by nuns, priests and monks.

You’d imagine therefore that they would be compensated by the organisation their abusers belonged to, wouldn’t you? Of course you would. So how much did the Catholic church pay towards the one thousand two hundred million euros so far paid out to victims?

Most of it, I hear you saying.


Half of it, you suggest.


A quarter, you shout, in despair.

I stand up and wave my arms at you in dismissal. No, no and no again.

The Catholic church paid a tenth of the cost. The Catholic church paid 127 million euros and no matter how high the awards go, that is all the Catholic church will ever pay.


You heard me right. Even though the children were raped, beaten and psychologically abused by nuns, priests and monks, the Catholic church will never pay more than 127 million euros.

So what uncritical benefactor has ridden to the assistance of the Catholic church? What kind and decent person has decided to rescue the church from the penury it brought upon itself by its abuse of children? Who could possibly be so generous? Well, look no further. Look in the mirror, for this wonderful benefactor is you. Your taxes are paying one thousand two hundred million euros to make up the shortfall, and this is the result of an agreement signed by a government minister.

Michael Woods, PhD, agreed this deal with the Catholic church, including Sister Helena O’Donoghue of the Sisters of Mercy, of whom more anon. Dr Woods, you might remember, was once Minister for Health, and did nothing at the time to dispel the belief that he was a medical practitioner when in fact he had a doctorate arising out of some research on tomatoes. Dr Woods is also a well-known member of Opus Dei. Dr Michael Woods concluded a deal whereby your money and mine was used to underwrite the Catholic church without limit. Can you imagine that? These guys paid in 127 million and that was an end of their obligations, even though they were the ones who had committed the abuse. Even though the claims are currently at one thousand two hundred million and rising, the church will never have to pay an extra penny. Our money will be used to pay the rest, no matter how much the bill comes to.

Now, who is Sr Helena O’Donoghue? Sr O’Donoghue is a member of the community that controls the Mater Hospital in Dublin. The Mater Hospital has recently been designated the location for the National Children’s Hospital, even though it is completely inaccessible for children coming from outside Dublin, and for their parents. The location was chosen even though a suitable site was offered at no cost to the government on the periphery of Dublin. (A site which was easily accessible from the N7).

The Mater is also the hospital whose ethics committee attempted to prevent cancer patients from using contraception. A truly Christian institution.


The Sisters of Mercy . . .

Public Apology

Criminal Responsibilty


Crime Favourites Religion Scandal World

Mother Teresa, the crook

Charles Keating was sentenced to ten years in prison for perpetrating one of the greatest frauds in American history. The Savings and Loans scandal has gone down in history as one of the filthiest scams ever conducted, involving the defrauding of 17,000 people of their life savings. Many of these people were elderly, and many lost everything they owned.

Charles Keating donated 1.25 million of these stolen dollars to Mother Teresa, and also gave her the use of his private jet. At his trial the good nun sent a letter to the trial judge, Lance Ito (a man you might remember from the OJ Simpson case).

This is what Mother Teresa said on behalf of Charles Keating:

Dear Honorable Lance Ito,

We do not mix up in Business or Politicts or courts. Our work, as Missionaries of Charity is to give wholehearted and free service to the poorest of the poor.

I do not know anything about Mr. Charles Keating’s work or his business or the matters you are dealing with.

I only know that he has alway been kind and generous to God’s poor, and always ready to help whenever there was a need. It is for this reason that I do not want to forget him now while he and his family are suffering. Jesus has told us “Whatever you do to the least of my brethern … YOU DID IT TO ME. Mr. Keating has done each to help the poor, which is why I am writing to you on his behalf.

Whenever someone asks me to speak to a judge, I always tell them the same thing. I ask them to pray, to look into thier heart, and to do what Jesus would do in that circumstance. And this is what I am asking of you, your Honor.

My gratitude to you is my prayer for you, and your work, your family and the people with whom you are working.

God bless you

M. Teresa

Thinking that Mother Teresa didn’t understand how Keating had robbed countless old and vulnerable people to obtain this money, the deputy District Attorney in the case, Paul Turley wrote a personal letter, as follows:

Dear Mother Teresa

I am a Deputy District Attorney in Los Angeles County and one of the persons who worked on the prosecution of your benefactor, Charles H. Keating, Jr. I read your letter to Judge Ito, written on behalf of Mr. Keating, which includes your admission that you know nothing about Mr. Keating’s business or the criminal charges presented to Judge Ito. I am writing to you to provide a brief explanation of the crimes of which Mr. Keating has been convicted, to give you an understanding of the source of the money that Mr. Keating gave to you, and to suggest that you perform the moral and ethical act of returning the money to its rightful owners.

Mr. Keating was convicted of defrauding 17 individuals of more than $900,000. These 17 persons were representative of 17,000 individuals from whom Mr. Keating stole $252,000,000. Mr. Keating’s specific acts of fraud were that he was the source of a series of fraudulent representations made to persons who bought bonds from his company and he also was the repository of crucial information which he chose to withhold from bond purchasers, thereby luring his victims into believing they were making a safe, low-risk investment. In truth and in fact, their money was being used to fund Mr. Keating’s exorbitant and extravagant lifestyle.

The victims of Mr. Keating’s fraud come from a wide spectrum of society. Some were wealthy and well-educated. Most were people of modest means and unfamiliar with high finance. One was, indeed, a poor carpenter who did not speak English and had his life savings stolen by Mr. Keating’s fraud.

The biblical slogan of your organization is ‘As long as you did it to one of these My least brethren. You did it to Me’. The ‘least’ of the brethren are among those whom Mr. Keating fleeced without flinching. As you well know, divine forgiveness is available to all, but forgiveness must be preceded by admission of sin. Not only has Mr. Keating failed to admit his sins and his crimes, he persists in self-righteously blaming others for his own misdeeds. Your experience is, admirably, with the poor. My experience has been with the ‘con’ man and the perpetrator of the fraud. It is not uncommon for ‘con’ men to be generous with family, friends and charities.

Perhaps they believe that their generosity will purchase love, respect or forgiveness. However, the time when the purchase of ‘indulgences’ was an acceptable method of seeking forgiveness died with the Reformation. No church, no charity, no organization should allow itself to be used as a salve for the conscience of the criminal. We all are grateful that forgiveness is available but we all, also, must perform our duty. That includes the Judge and the Jury. I remind myself of the biblical admonition of the Prophet Micah: ‘O man, what is good and what does the Lord require of you. To do justice, love mercy and walk humbly.’

We are urged to love mercy but we must do justice.

You urge Judge Ito to look into his heart — as he sentences Charles Keating — and do what Jesus would do. I submit the same challenge to you. Ask yourself what Jesus would do if he were given the fruits of a crime; what Jesus would do if he were in possession of money that had been stolen; what Jesus would do if he were being exploited by a thief to ease his conscience?

I submit that Jesus would promptly and unhesitatingly return the stolen property to its rightful owners. You should do the same. You have been given money by Mr. Keating that he has been convicted of stealing by fraud. Do not permit him the ‘indulgence’ he desires Do not keep the money. Return it to those who worked for it and earned it!

If you contact me I will put you in direct contact with the rightful owners of the property now in your possession.


Paul W. Turley

There was no reply and the money wasn’t returned.

So much for living saints.