Contaminated Songs Of Freedom

By Charley Brady

Once upon a time (and I do love fairy stories) I believed in Santa. I also believed in the Easter Bunny, astral projection and men who had sent themselves to Mars in such a manner because... well, I guess because I was nine-years-old. And a little slow.

I remember my collection of that great old monster series from the Aurora kits of the 'sixties of the great old Universal movies: the Wolf Man, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, Frankenstein's Monster, Dracula and the rest of those wonderful creations. As a matter of fact some of them are still next to my laptop as I write.

My brother Donald bought me for Christmas a collection of the remastered ones and I thought that I had died and gone to Heaven.

After all these years I just love sitting down and watching that wonderfully misunderstood and artificially created Frankenstein's Monster or Lawrence Talbot as the sympathetic Wolf Man.

After over four decades I can still sit down and love every minute of Bela Lugosi, Lon Chaney Jr. and the hugely loveable Boris Karloff.

But I don't kid myself: in real life (and wouldn't it be great if it was as black and white as some of these creaking relics of a bygone age made it out to be?) the real monsters walk amongst us. Far, far more horrifying because they don't even know that they are monsters.

If I was still nine and Gerry Adams came out with the horse manure that he did a few days ago, simple as I was, I still wouldn't have believed it.

According to the once-exalted One he didn't know until last Friday that his brother, the boyo who Gerry's niece told him years ago that her father was raping her, was working for Sinn Féin IN HIS CONSTITUANCY!

He was the Chairman of the SF cumann in Anderstown, West Belfast!

Now does THAT refresh any memories? It should do. It's right next to where you live.

I guess that you're just yet another in a long string of politicians bred in this country who only remember what they want you to remember.

Just didn't have clue, eh Gerry? It was like "What? My brother Liam (who can't handle what he did to his niece) was working in my constituency. Ah, now, sure lads I honestly didn't know."

What he in fact said was: "I don't know every member of the party in West Belfast [he's your brother, Gerry, try to focus now.] "A lot of his happened at a time of intense hyper-activity".

Well, let's see now: your niece reported her abuse to you in 1987 so what was the "hyper- activity"? Making a few more bombs? Planning a few more mass-murderous atrocities?

Seriously. What was the hyper-activity? Covering you ass as you climbed the greasy pole to meetings in your once-hated London? What?

And by the way, Smoothie Gerry, don't throw words like "hyper-activity" around. It just makes you sound like a cut rate version of the already cut rate Doctor Phil, for heaven's sake.

I was talking to a few of your grassroots supporters this week - and they sure don't have any reason to like me - and guess what? They're as disgusted as I am.

Put your hands up to this one: your brother Liam Adams was for many years under the protection of the Irish Republican Army.

No? Then correct me. Although admittedly I've never admired the correction meted out by some of your acquaintances.

There are photos to prove that you were still hanging out with the guy that you didn't even know was working in your constituency - you and the SF treasurer Joe Cahill - at Liam's wedding in 1993. That's six years after your niece asked for your help.

Now as of last night, Sunday, I can't see how he can survive as leader. There are already several of his erstwhile buddies who are quietly sticking the knife to him. Poetic justice, really.

The new allegations are grim: they are from women who are connected to major republican families in Belfast, one being a relative of the above mentioned Joe Cahill, a former Irish Republican Army commander.

Their allegations constitute an utterly awful story of repeated rapes by republicans.

A currently serving elected representative of Sinn Féin stands accused of sexually abusing the relative of the late commander.

She says that she was locked in an attic and put in a dog kennel at the age of ten, forced to use a bucket as her toilet and repeatedly beaten.

The abuse was reported two years ago and a file sent to Northern Ireland's director of prosecutions six months ago.

Another woman said that she was brought by the Provo and hilariously named "freedom fighters" to meet her attacker.

The heroic boyos said that he would be put under house arrest but guess what? He later escaped.

Sure, escaped if he was under house arrest by the IRA.

Yeah, right.

Let me put my feelings as clearly as I can: these thugs are the very same ones who said that they were protecting their communities from child abusers and perverts by taking them out and kneecapping them. Yet they protected their own rotten vermin.

I hope that Gerry Adams is humiliated and kicked out on his ass for doing exactly the same cover-up that the church has been doing.

And with that as a start then maybe the ordinary people of Belfast can get on with kicking the rest of these things out and to hell.

It will be hard because they have lived in part-fear and part-admiration for a bunch of guys in balaclavas for so long.

At this point though I think that they know it has to be done.

Here in the south of course we have our own life-wreckers. Except here they drink fine wine, eat in the smartest resteraunts ( the ones that are left that is) and discuss how much money they have in very loud voices.

They are of course the bankers.

We're finally getting justice though. And if you believe that then you probably also believe in global warming. (I swear, that solitary polar bear that we see repeatedly wandering around the same ice-floe must have it's own Equity card by now.)

Brian Clown and his Merry Band of Chancers are having - here we go again - an "inquiry" into how the Government, bankers and builders ripped us of by billions.

But as pointless as this "inquiry" is, well it gets better. It's being done in secret. Yes, that's right. Behind closed doors. They get to pick the questions and if any of the public want to hear what's going on then, in the words of Chemical Ali, "F*** them."

We are being screwed right, left and centre once more, folks. And if you don't like that's your tough luck.

As the outspoken journalist Terry McGeehan says: "It's a typical solution to a typical Fianna Fail feck-up.

"And it reveals yet again a typical Fianna Fail attitude to Irish people - like mushrooms, keep us in the dark and throw s*** at us."

To the aforementioned "Chemical" Ali Hassan al- Majid who was behind the 1988 mustard gas attack that was orchestrated by Saddam Hussein, he has finally gotten the go-ahead on his death sentence.

I'm sorry, does that sound harsh?

He's certainly not a damned loss to me and I wouldn't think that he's much of a loss to the survivors.

The attack on Halabja killed over 5,600 people.

On a tape made at the time he is heard saying: "I will kill them all with chemical weapons. Who is going to say anything? The international community? F*** them!"

My feelings towards you in a nutshell.

His son is here in Ireland at the moment. Doctor Osama Al-Sahaf works at Our Lady of Lourdes Hospital in Drogheda, County Louth.

When asked to comment on the decision he declined but in 2003 he said: "He doesn't deserve to die for what he's done. He was only following orders."

Wait a minute! Where did I hear that before?

Hope to see you next week.

Same bat-time!

Same bat-channel!

You can reach Charley at chasbrady7@eircom.net