14 August 2013
697
R. Linda:
A note here: First off, I don't find Northern Ireland's sectarian violence funny, but every once and a while along comes a stupid eejit who does something so outrageously asinine, that attention must be called to the height of their stupidity AND I find I am amused at such jackarses being just that, that I cannot help pointing out the dangers of the mindset that operates on STUPID and how destructive they can be. However, as always, I must tell it with humour because if all had gone down there would be nothing to laugh at. But by the grace of the Almighty, the eejit below did not harm anyone and he himself is a joke and so shall be treated as such.
Oh, boyo! What can I say to THIS bit of a story that came across me desk? First, the article caught my eye because just the day before, I had a discussion with a friend whose last name is Mullen. In Gaelic, she tells me it is O'Maolain, which is pronounced Whelon. So when I saw the subject of the bulletin was a Whelan from Northern Ireland, I had to read what it was about, and the entire time, I wondered if this was a long-lost relative of hers that changed a letter in his name. May I say he is not, or I'd be commiserating the stupidity of her relative instead of just pointing it out?
Anyway, it was a stupid thing that happened. I mean, in all the world, when one is caught in sectarian violence, especially in Northern Ireland, you'd think they'd be an old hand at doing risky business and knowing how to get away with it. But no. I be here to tell you not all live and learn. Maybe that be a good thing, and then again, maybe not, depending on where your loyalties lie and mainly for most of us with brains, how much of this deadly foolishness do we want to put up with caused by the not-so-smart?
The name is Connor Whelan, all of 29 years old from Dunmurry. Well, the boyo found himself (according to him) up on Broadway that is north in the Falls area. It was on 11 July; he said he was minding his business as he walked (oh, correction, RAN) down the road with two men (he had not a clue who they were), and as ye well know, if you see men running in Belfast, that are dressed in black you don't just stand there, you run too! And that's what he said he did. He looked over his shoulder to see what they were running from, and in the not-so-far-off distance, there was a black box with a canister on the corner of Fallswater Street. Well, as you can imagine, this action, along with the black box and canister, got the attention of the police, who happened to be in the area because it was 11 July, and we all know what those portents, yes, those pesky parades! Trouble be brewing; it was. And well, a red flag when men in black are running in a known hot spot.
The police caught up with friend Whelan, who couldn't keep up with the other two because . . . well, he was packing a box full of 35 bottles and a petrol container. Slows a man down it does. So the police did a little packing of their own and packed his arse into a police car but not before he shouted, "Up the Ra!" Now, if one wants to appear not associated with any known fractious group, one does not shout "Up the Ra!" and for those who don't know what Ra means, it means Republican Army. On hauling his snarky butt to the nick the prosecutors charged him with riot (probably malicious) and for possessing articles for use in the making of petrol bombs.
Looking at our miscreant, he was wearing latex gloves at the time, and in his pocket was a balaclava with a dozen rags. No, say it isn't so Connor me man, but alas it was so. Not only that but when the authorities searched his motor, they found more rags and a camouflage snood. If that isn't incriminating I do not know what is.
Connor claimed that unknown paramilitaries (probably the two that ran away) had asked him to carry the materials, and afraid for his life, he succumbed to their request. The powers that be did not believe a word of this, no, not a word. The latex gloves alone were evidence Whelan did not act under duress. Further, the very same latex gloves alone did not support his assertion he was misused, misguided, and misunderstood.
How does one explain wearing latex gloves while walking, oh sorry, running down the street unless . . . you have a few dozen rags, a few empty bottles and some accelerant? Uh . . . "Gee guys I was only going to blast the rats out of me basement." Nah, I don't think so.
Our boyo got himself defence counsel, who pointed out to the High Court that no petrol bombs were launched and no one was injured. And then he went on a bit of comparison shopping that the dastardly local loyalists did their own brand of horrible, "disgraceful" attacks and here was his client, guilty of wearing a pair of latex gloves, who had done no attacks. Well, in me mind, I thought he left a few articles out like the rags and the petrol, but who am I? I also thought that if given a few minutes longer without police apprehension our boyo might have got his chance to blow stuff up and very well with the obvious stupidity he was sporting, himself too!
But wait, defence counsel added quickly that "By and large, the nationalist community, of which this applicant is a member, have not engaged in this level of violence."
Oh, liar, liar, pants on fire. Let us digest THAT for a minute. Nah! Thirty-five bottles and a two-thirds full 5-litre petrol container were recovered as well, and there were at the time of the "incident" 40 people who could have been hurt if the petrol was ignited. BUT Whelan pointed out, no police were hurt, therefore, no comparison.
Even Mr. Justice Stephens wasn't falling for that one. He held to his guns, uh . . . not a good word, he held to his principles(!) that Connor Whelan is an "alleged petrol bomber" and was refused bail and release on the spot. The reason is that he was a risk towards other mischiefs considering the present climate. The parades were all in full battle, I mean swing, and to set Mr. Whelan loose . . . well, think of the field day he could have! We were already in parade season! Further, he added, "There is also a prima facie case that he sets about the task of a planned and organised matter, planning and organising damage to the community and injuries to individuals." So there! Your arse is staying put!
As it was, Mr. Whelan was prevented from his horrific violent outburst the day before the first outbreak of sectarian fighting, which broke out the next day, in the exact spot. Nah, nothing was planned, he said; no, just trying out the new latex gloves he bought his mam to do the dishes, I suppose. And a dozen dust rags to clean house and the petrol was for the motor he forgot to fuel up. Shadowy paras holding a gun to his head, no, never seen them before in his life. Likely story.
You wonder why I won't visit me old hometown in July. Does this story give you a hint?
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
A note here: First off, I don't find Northern Ireland's sectarian violence funny, but every once and a while along comes a stupid eejit who does something so outrageously asinine, that attention must be called to the height of their stupidity AND I find I am amused at such jackarses being just that, that I cannot help pointing out the dangers of the mindset that operates on STUPID and how destructive they can be. However, as always, I must tell it with humour because if all had gone down there would be nothing to laugh at. But by the grace of the Almighty, the eejit below did not harm anyone and he himself is a joke and so shall be treated as such.
Oh, boyo! What can I say to THIS bit of a story that came across me desk? First, the article caught my eye because just the day before, I had a discussion with a friend whose last name is Mullen. In Gaelic, she tells me it is O'Maolain, which is pronounced Whelon. So when I saw the subject of the bulletin was a Whelan from Northern Ireland, I had to read what it was about, and the entire time, I wondered if this was a long-lost relative of hers that changed a letter in his name. May I say he is not, or I'd be commiserating the stupidity of her relative instead of just pointing it out?
Anyway, it was a stupid thing that happened. I mean, in all the world, when one is caught in sectarian violence, especially in Northern Ireland, you'd think they'd be an old hand at doing risky business and knowing how to get away with it. But no. I be here to tell you not all live and learn. Maybe that be a good thing, and then again, maybe not, depending on where your loyalties lie and mainly for most of us with brains, how much of this deadly foolishness do we want to put up with caused by the not-so-smart?
The name is Connor Whelan, all of 29 years old from Dunmurry. Well, the boyo found himself (according to him) up on Broadway that is north in the Falls area. It was on 11 July; he said he was minding his business as he walked (oh, correction, RAN) down the road with two men (he had not a clue who they were), and as ye well know, if you see men running in Belfast, that are dressed in black you don't just stand there, you run too! And that's what he said he did. He looked over his shoulder to see what they were running from, and in the not-so-far-off distance, there was a black box with a canister on the corner of Fallswater Street. Well, as you can imagine, this action, along with the black box and canister, got the attention of the police, who happened to be in the area because it was 11 July, and we all know what those portents, yes, those pesky parades! Trouble be brewing; it was. And well, a red flag when men in black are running in a known hot spot.
The police caught up with friend Whelan, who couldn't keep up with the other two because . . . well, he was packing a box full of 35 bottles and a petrol container. Slows a man down it does. So the police did a little packing of their own and packed his arse into a police car but not before he shouted, "Up the Ra!" Now, if one wants to appear not associated with any known fractious group, one does not shout "Up the Ra!" and for those who don't know what Ra means, it means Republican Army. On hauling his snarky butt to the nick the prosecutors charged him with riot (probably malicious) and for possessing articles for use in the making of petrol bombs.
Looking at our miscreant, he was wearing latex gloves at the time, and in his pocket was a balaclava with a dozen rags. No, say it isn't so Connor me man, but alas it was so. Not only that but when the authorities searched his motor, they found more rags and a camouflage snood. If that isn't incriminating I do not know what is.
Connor claimed that unknown paramilitaries (probably the two that ran away) had asked him to carry the materials, and afraid for his life, he succumbed to their request. The powers that be did not believe a word of this, no, not a word. The latex gloves alone were evidence Whelan did not act under duress. Further, the very same latex gloves alone did not support his assertion he was misused, misguided, and misunderstood.
How does one explain wearing latex gloves while walking, oh sorry, running down the street unless . . . you have a few dozen rags, a few empty bottles and some accelerant? Uh . . . "Gee guys I was only going to blast the rats out of me basement." Nah, I don't think so.
Our boyo got himself defence counsel, who pointed out to the High Court that no petrol bombs were launched and no one was injured. And then he went on a bit of comparison shopping that the dastardly local loyalists did their own brand of horrible, "disgraceful" attacks and here was his client, guilty of wearing a pair of latex gloves, who had done no attacks. Well, in me mind, I thought he left a few articles out like the rags and the petrol, but who am I? I also thought that if given a few minutes longer without police apprehension our boyo might have got his chance to blow stuff up and very well with the obvious stupidity he was sporting, himself too!
But wait, defence counsel added quickly that "By and large, the nationalist community, of which this applicant is a member, have not engaged in this level of violence."
Oh, liar, liar, pants on fire. Let us digest THAT for a minute. Nah! Thirty-five bottles and a two-thirds full 5-litre petrol container were recovered as well, and there were at the time of the "incident" 40 people who could have been hurt if the petrol was ignited. BUT Whelan pointed out, no police were hurt, therefore, no comparison.
Even Mr. Justice Stephens wasn't falling for that one. He held to his guns, uh . . . not a good word, he held to his principles(!) that Connor Whelan is an "alleged petrol bomber" and was refused bail and release on the spot. The reason is that he was a risk towards other mischiefs considering the present climate. The parades were all in full battle, I mean swing, and to set Mr. Whelan loose . . . well, think of the field day he could have! We were already in parade season! Further, he added, "There is also a prima facie case that he sets about the task of a planned and organised matter, planning and organising damage to the community and injuries to individuals." So there! Your arse is staying put!
As it was, Mr. Whelan was prevented from his horrific violent outburst the day before the first outbreak of sectarian fighting, which broke out the next day, in the exact spot. Nah, nothing was planned, he said; no, just trying out the new latex gloves he bought his mam to do the dishes, I suppose. And a dozen dust rags to clean house and the petrol was for the motor he forgot to fuel up. Shadowy paras holding a gun to his head, no, never seen them before in his life. Likely story.
You wonder why I won't visit me old hometown in July. Does this story give you a hint?
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
9 comments:
situations like that are always too close. i remember one summer living in belfast with my then husband and those parades were frightening. the songs the orange order sang as they marched were insulting and threatening and to this day they still march and sing with the booming of those damn drums. while i don't condone connor whelan's activities i can understand how some are driven to distraction and could and have retaliated. doesn't make it right, but having lived there i have an understanding i wish i did not have.
LMAO
ok now it's time for you to learn to speak with an American accent, and don't visit Ireland until absolutely necessary! Oh yeah, and wear funky colors when you do go so you'll look uninvolved in ANY political or religious mess!
Can't say I miss Belfast this year. The deep seeded traditions on both sides are outdated and archaic. There are enough problems getting over the strife of the Troubles for the long years the Irish have lived with them, that to continue the ribald and offensive parades on both sides is pouring petrol on the Peace Accord. Bealtaine Éire rathú!
Tomas, Mar a dúirt sé: Mise Éire, Sinne mé ná an Chailleach, Bhéarra. Mór mo ghlóire, Mé a rug Cú Chulainn cróga. Mór mo náir: Mo chlann féin do dhíol a máthair. Mór mo phian: Bithnaimhde do mo shíorchiapadh. Mór mo bhrón: D'éag an dream inar chuireas dóchas. Mise Éire: Uaigní mé ná an Chailleach Bhéarra.
Alrighty then lol. Translation please?
Ack Lucky! Can you get more sarcastic? LMAO So back at you - Tiocfaidh tru na crubaidh agus leabfaidh an chu giorria
ACK be right, I hope you two blokes aren't cursing in Irish because I have notta clue.
Cut from the same cloth me thinks :-)
LOL no cursing. A Republican poem dripping in sarcastic wit. I know the man that is how I know the tenor of the words, all in fun. You can probably find it online. It is called I Am Ireland by Padraig Pearse and if you can't find it the words are about the spirit of mother Ireland speaking out on her tragic history of her children.
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