Better Get Used To It: The Murderers In Balaclavas Are Going The Way Of The Dinosaurs

"Listen - there's a hell of a good universe next door: Let's go!"
- e.e. cummings

By Charley Brady

This is an open letter to the murderers of PC Ronan Kerr:

As I put last week's column to bed and sent it off, I had just heard that you demons in balaclavas were back. Then again, you never really went away, did you, you swine?

There's little point in saying that I think that you are scum. You don't care what people think of you. You don't care that you can never call your loathsome selves "republicans", "democrats" and certainly not "freedom fighters". You are nothing but murderous thugs, fighting to keep and establish an inch of territory that you will never have now.

There's probably, what, about a hundred of you? To the younger ones amongst you, can you just listen for a minute?

Do you see any of the Big Boys going out and planting a bomb under the car of someone who simply wanted to serve his community? I'll bet that you didn't. I'll bet that the young guy who actually did that despicable act had been led to believe he was doing something heroic. Heaven knows how. I'm also willing to bet that he had spent far too much time listening to bitter old cretins who can't seem to get it into their thick heads that no one supports them any more.

The only reason that your pig ignorant masters - the "veterans" - wanted you to kill an innocent man is because they are p***ed off that Ireland, for all its many faults, is a different nation to what it was even a decade ago.

We have just welcomed Prince Albert of Monaco to these shores. We will soon welcome President Barack Obama and the Queen of England. These are good things.

They show the world that we are a nation that is not only embracing the future but also coming to terms with an age-old "enemy".

By this stupid, pointless and ultimately irrelevant act you are trying to stem the tide of history.

What did you get out of it? No, really. Please just think about it; and once again I am talking to you younger ones who must be feeling the dead weight of the Old Timers placing a comforting, if bloodied and grave-soiled hand on your shoulders and telling you that you did the right thing.

I've usually worked my way into a rage against people like you at this stage, but what's the point? There is none.

No more than I can see the point in what you have done.

If I can make just one of you think about the appalling consequences of your brutal act in blowing up a man - think of that, really think about it - who never did a damned thing to you and was also a real Republican, then I'll be happy.

It won't change what I think of you, but if you just even for one second QUESTION what the dinosaurs in their time warp have instilled in you then maybe the next time that they ask you to pull on your balaclava, hide behind a mask and sneak around under cover of darkness while you plant a bomb that I'll bet you young fellas never made yourself, then just don't do it.

Yeah, sure, that sounds like those crazy adverts that say: "Drugs: Just don't do it." Yet there's a lot of sense in that.

You are allegedly fighting for an independent Ireland. Well, that's not going to happen, no matter how many bombs you set off under cover of darkness.

Did the "veterans" not tell you? We can forget about the old enemy. We work for the Germans these days. Try to get a bit of reading in on your own, lads. Don't be puppets and don't be morons.

Once again, think about it: You think that you are individuals. You are not. You are simply propagating a blood- myth that no one believes any more except for some deluded characters who call themselves Irish American and yet have never even visited here, let alone lived here.

Thankfully they are few and hopefully, after this week when they have seen a whole country come together there will be less than ever collections for "the Cause."

In every single case where I have met Irish Americans, I have to tell you: they are not on your side. They have suffered more than most from terrorists.

You will not get an ounce of sympathy on this one.

Grow the feck up, would you?

Can I ask you something? Did you send a Mother's Day card to your mother?

Did you pause for a moment and think that as your mother opened that card last Sunday that Ronan Kerr's mother was getting the kind of Mother's Day that no decent person would ever wish on her?

Her son was dead, for no reason. No reason at all.

To the things that spray painted the words over a wall in Derry that said: 'RONAN KERR, THE PRICE TO PAY', Jesus I am so sorry for you.

What are you like? A bunch of gobshites who have not an ounce of guts between you.

Jeez, as loathsome as I find the clowns who are so tough that they sneak out in their demonic balaclavas under the shadows as most swine do, I used to find it hilarious that you thought you were representing decent people.

You never were.

I have put up with creatures like you for over ten years now, saying what you will do to me if you ever got me on my own.

Please understand that I'm wrong a lot of the time and yet what I say is my opinion and to hell with you if you are too dim witted to understand that.

I am and always have been my own man, no matter how many times I screw up.

Can you look into you hearts and say the same thing?

Again I will say to the youngest among you: please, please think again before the eejits who are your masters ask you to plant another bomb that will achieve nothing.

This country has moved on while some of you are in a frigging coma.

To the "veterans", well there's no real point in talking to you, is there?

To the youngsters, then trust me I have stood exactly where you stand now.

There's no point to it.

Walk off. Walk away.

You will feel so much better for it. You might even feel human again.

Finally... to Deborah Mahoney in Hyde Park. My apologies. I should indeed have thanked you a couple of weeks back and not just your husband. What can I say? I'm an unreconstructed male chauvinist. I just assumed that you were there warming the good man's slippers and heating his cocoa. Woman, know your place!

Wow. It's amazing how brave I get when I'm on this keyboard. I can think of quite a few women who better not read the above!

Now let the poor guy out of the doghouse and I hope to see you all again next week.

Same bat-time!

Same bat-channel!

You can reach Charley at chasbrady7@eircom.net