On the Brink.
By Randall Stephen Hall©
Like alcoholics and drug addicts
They’ve fallen off the wagon once more.
It’s an easy place to be.
Where you know the score.
Back to their default setting.
They are on the brink again you see.
Two men are dead, shot by other men.
Who sent them there for the blood of their rent money?
No fun or funny, but now all this funny business
Of the blind leading the blind
Both with motes in their eyes.
Their splintering always pulling us apart.
Their artifice and craft, like a leaky bath
Attempting to drag us under.
Yet, no talk of poor workmanship.
I dispise all this, with their twists and their turns.
Yet I continue to yearn for grown ups in leadership
Rather than adolescents who rent our society in two
With two red hands, one yellow
And the others, such fine upstanding fellows.
No end to the assembly over the failed visit
The magical mystery and disappearance, of Richard Haass
When we were almost there according to Mr. Nesbitt
Who was then unable to bite the bullet
And then we were nowhere . . .
But still, somewhere off Europe.
No end to the assembly over Sixteen million pounds
Burnt up in the holy smoke of the flag protests.
No mention of these men of violence.
The one eye in the heads of each politician
Unable to see their own men of violence
And do something about.
For doing something about it
Is not what they are about, as they shout and wring their hands
Like dirty dish cloths.
Haranguing each other.
While being less effective than political Orangutans.
While the SDLP and Alliance parties
Woffle on the sidelines, like collared doves
Doing their best to just say nothing, say nothing, say nothing.
Put your auld flat cap on and just say nethin’
As we focus on the periphery and never
The centre of our society and what has really gone wrong.
Droning on and on, missiles on the skuds.
Every one a mug dung beetle with no detonator .
Carrying the great ball of their dung before them
To feed off later.
It doesn’t really matter, only maintaining the great divide.
In that they hide our future amongst
The agony of their truths.
On the brink, on the brink again
You think?
As the early chat show fans the flames
To catch our ears.
Pulling and tugging at our raw edges
The biggest show in the smallest of countries.
Beautiful apart from the shadows.
Of our dark hedges.
A country at war with itself.
Wrapped in false ideas and ideals
For others to eat their cowboy meals.
My spurs jingle as I saddle up once again.
The man with no name, only a pen.
My pained expression as I wrestle only with type.
No horse.
Unwilling to shoot anyone with metal.
Only words
Of course.
Subject: IMC report of September 2008
The remarks in our previous report were focused on leadership. We want to draw
attention to the phrase we used, which in our view is key to understanding the
transition of a paramilitary group to an entirely peaceful position: “relinquishing the
leadership structures appropriate to a time of armed conflict”. By referring to the
relinquishing of such structures we recognised that the process of change might
not and need not necessarily involve their being formally or publicly abandoned.
What matters is that the armed conflict is completely over and the leadership
structures have definitely ceased to function in the way they did during the time of
conflict, by whatever means that end might be attained.
2.4 In our Twelfth Report in October 2006 we compared the position of all the
paramilitary groups then and three years before in late 20035. We referred to the
leadership of PIRA as having changed profoundly and adopted a clear strategy to
follow a political path6. We said that no other paramilitary organisation had
undergone this transformation7.
2.7 Is PIRA committed to following an exclusively political path? We are convinced
that it is. The leadership has consistently taken a stand on this, not only through
public statements but also with the members of the organisation, which is arguably
more persuasive as evidence of real intent and delivery. The strategy is firm and
clear. Consistent with this strategy, significant numbers of PIRA members,
including senior ones, have, at the behest of the leadership, moved to political
roles in Sinn Féin. Others have moved to community work or have dropped out of
activism entirely. The membership has backed the strategy and we can see no
grounds on which it would or could be reversed.
2.8 Has PIRA abandoned its terrorist structures, preparations and capability? We
believe that it has. The so-called “military” departments have ceased to function
and have been disbanded. It has been put to us that these structural changes
have had a profound and debilitating effect on the organisational capacity of PIRA.
We share that view and consider that the organisation’s former terrorist capability
has been lost. PIRA is not recruiting or training members and the membership
continues to decline, and there is some issue as to what membership means in the
absence of activity. In so far as gathering information or intelligence may continue
in any limited way – not in itself improper if it does not involve illegal methods or
intent – we believe that it is mainly for the purpose of ascertaining the nature of any
threat from dissident republicans.
2.9 Is PIRA involved in other illegal activity? We do not think that it is. Members
have been instructed not to engage in violence and we do not think there have
been any recent acts of PIRA violence or intimidation, either internally as a means
of imposing discipline or towards people outside the organisation.12 We are
satisfied that it is not involved in exiling or in any form of sectarian activity and it
has made clear to members that such activities are not acceptable. We are
satisfied that PIRA as an organisation is not involved in crime and has instructed
its members not to be involved in criminal activity. Some individual members
remain criminally active but the organisation does not support those involved. As
we have said in successive earlier reports, we are unable to say what has
happened to funds which PIRA previously illegally gained. There is no evidence
that any funds are being used for paramilitary purposes.
2.11 There are three key issues so far as we are concerned. The first is the nature of
the course that PIRA is on, whether it will stay on that course, and whether the
organisation does now or will in future present any threat to peace or to the
democratic process. We firmly believe that PIRA is set on and will remain on the
political path. We do not believe that it presents a threat to peace or to democratic
politics.
2.12 The second issue is the nature of PIRA as an organisation. We believe that for
some time now it has given up what it used to do and that by design it is being
allowed to wither away. There have not been and we do not foresee that there will
be formal announcements about the disbandment of all or parts of the structure.
2.13 The third issue is whether PIRA might re-emerge as a terrorist organisation. While
in theory any organisation can be resurrected however long it has been dormant or
non-existent, our answer in respect of the PIRA which existed when we first
reported four and a half years ago is firmly in the negative. In our view the way in
which the leadership has adopted an entirely different course, disbanded terrorist related
structures and capacity and engaged in different activities, and members have moved on to other things, means that the PIRA of the recent and violent past
is well beyond recall.
Iontach maith , a wonderful and insightful bit of prose……we all have motes in our eyes and thankfully we know the difference between accusing someone ,without proof,and laying unequivocal facts at the door of the accuser …..In the land of the blind. the one-eyed man is king
Whackamo….thats what the Brits call it…
That when the dust settles after the awful drone…
Iraq
And in Ireland the Reactionaries vie to top the prattle here…Its the RA you know, keep your Eye off the Ball. The Arabs like fig leafs fall,
Honed to deadly intent….
Contain or Kill the insurgent.
They learnt that in Ireland, didn’t you know?
The Gamekeepers, wringing the odd pheasants necks, while no-one was looking.
Quite a feast Lord Kilclooney, and Laird megennis,- a veritable Banquet. Sure Thatcher killed our Counsels, didn’t you hear, above the drear Dead Lines they dug up to animate a travelling corpse, won at a fair some day.
Bonfire night, what Marvels, who to Hang?
Gibbets on fires need a wearied Spectre to relight…ignite…lest we forget, or refuse to remember, would that we could without Wizards Dark, with Secret Oaths…Its what they do you know when priming which Murder of Crows to convene their Courts.
A million Died in Erin, and Iraq…
Centuries apart…
Genocide one, of course, a million more fled their kin to the winds of the Coffin Ships…
Who Fears to Speak of Iraq?
Silence all, for such a swell to weep, mourn, gnash and rage against the cull…
So many behind dead, in Ireland and Iraq.
A million and a half died in famine before the War. You see they needed the medicine, but the Petro Dollar needed back up which Saddam refused and wanted more…for all his faults, one was not a Corporate whore.
A million and a half! Yes watch the figures Micheal Meagher, when you blame the RA, cause they all count, don’t they like? What de feck are you trying to pull?
Memory in Ireland…Rosemary Nelson….she was in the RA of course. Brits Murdered her, and a thousand souls more, right here in western Europe. Yep…now we know we must call the Sherriff….
It was the RA whot done it gov….
Murder most foul, Murder most foul, will no-one take heed that the tally conservative made many hundreds of Days for the wearied Gravediggers…
Some their knuckles white from tilling the Earth. Good Irish Earth over Paddys and Patricias, and Rosemary, and Roisin….so many dead, each once a light…gone, but we must try to forget and concentrate on the paltry fall out of the few, as we course a path for the many, many fools.
These Bastards went to Iraq. Stole control of the Oil, a burning issue….
“Join us or we’ll kill you”, and they kept their bloody word. The Death Squads, Brit and Yank took tallies of their kill count…Class game, called it whackamo….Kill a resistant community leader, steal his phone, then kill all his contacts….
REALLY, TJEY
Whackamo….thats what the Brits call it…
That when the dust settles after the awful drone…
Iraq
And in Ireland the Reactionaries vie to top the prattle here…Its the RA you know, keep your Eye off the Ball. The Arabs like fig leafs fall,
Honed to deadly intent….
Contain or Kill the insurgent.
They learnt that in Ireland, didn’t you know?
The Gamekeepers, wringing the odd pheasants necks, while no-one was looking.
Quite a feast Lord Kilclooney, and Laird megennis,- a veritable Banquet. Sure Thatcher killed our Counsels, didn’t you hear, above the drear Dead Lines they dug up to animate a travelling corpse, won at a fair some day.
Bonfire night, what Marvels, who to Hang?
Gibbets on fires need a wearied Spectre to relight…ignite…lest we forget, or refuse to remember, would that we could without Wizards Dark, with Secret Oaths…Its what they do you know when priming which Murder of Crows to convene their Courts.
A million Died in Erin, and Iraq…
Centuries apart…
Genocide one, of course, a million more fled their kin to the winds of the Coffin Ships…
Who Fears to Speak of Iraq?
Silence all, for such a swell to weep, mourn, gnash and rage against the cull…
So many behind dead, in Ireland and Iraq.
A million and a half died in famine before the War. You see they needed the medicine, but the Petro Dollar needed back up which Saddam refused and wanted more…for all his faults, one was not a Corporate whore.
A million and a half! Yes watch the figures Micheal Meagher, when you blame the RA, cause they all count, don’t they like? What de feck are you trying to pull?
Memory in Ireland…Rosemary Nelson….she was in the RA of course. Brits Murdered her, and a thousand souls more, right here in western Europe. Yep…now we know we must call the Sherriff….
It was the RA whot done it gov….
Murder most foul, Murder most foul, will no-one take heed that the tally conservative made many hundreds of Days for the wearied Gravediggers…
Some their knuckles white from tilling the Earth. Good Irish Earth over Paddys and Patricias, and Rosemary, and Roisin….so many dead, each once a light…gone, but we must try to forget and concentrate on the paltry fall out of the few, as we course a path for the many, many fools.
These Bastards went to Iraq. Stole control of the Oil, a burning issue….
“Join us or we’ll kill you”, and they kept their bloody word. The Death Squads, Brit and Yank took tallies of their kill count…Class game, called it whackamo….Kill a resistant community leader, steal his phone, then kill all his contacts….
REALLY, THEY DID….!!!
Now the wearied through this cauldron boiling, hissing and spitting at them and their children, so Silent Sombre went they knew not where, scattered, Murdered and spent…some like the Black Phoenix spread forth their Wings in revolt under a new and vicious flag.
But sure that’s the way with the hurt, they lash and wail,…And some will bite.
Whacamo the Brits Call it….two dead on Belfast, and vultures close to steal real grief, of loved ones blighted, yet They Care Not A Damn for these leaves that fell. Grand Wizards sweep up leaves in piles to conjure Spectres that they crave…it keeps them going you know,-to fires ignite to flame, and flame, and dance and Drum and March, old foes are arisen you know.
Alarm, to Arms, and in Iraq the tears can’t douse the Oil Wells that put them to flight, to search in hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, then hundreds of these poor souls….
To Coffin ships they flee once more. Which of these many may in descent from kin in Ireland fled. Three Million said the census. Where is our Christ among their Bethlehem, in a boat, scared because Mummy hushes him to silence as with the traffickers curses, they purchase one more chance to cross a hostile Sea….
RTE, the RA you see….
Na, We see, but not through your course prism as you allowed the Shackled from Shannon to off away to dungeons…The Land of the Free….Are Ireland now to welcome the dispossessed. They are us, give or take a century…
Lets Focus on the RA, though, best not look to far afield. The Shinners are lefties and want to welcome these famished home.
All around the drones, predator reapers, fine tuned and honed….Whirling noise then the Bombs hits…Dizens dead, a little child’s sandle lies beside a makeshift halt…the weary move on…
No Judge, ni Jury, just Executioners aplenty, with allowance for collateral damage…then Whackamo….the Brits do it in Afghanistan now, though mostly through the air…
IMC Report, Ireland Subdued, the RA at Peace.
British Terrorism, alive and kicking. Grief begets grief, and with the transatlantic Partnership, Whackamo as the Brit with Killing fatigue said. Kill them then kill or capture all their contacts from their phones.
Brittle Words with little love can find that child from ours we need to salvage from the dread grief….these Coffin ship carry all our Kin.
IMC report on British Terrorist apparatus and its status since the peace accord……….
RTE wil fill in the gaps, you see its the RA that need looking at…….Aye, RIGHT!!!! We didn’t float up the lagan in a soapy bubble.