I’m only 20 pages into this book, but already David A Frank is getting right down to the nitty-gritty of what’s wrong with America today. This promises to be an excellent read. The author’s proposed system of ‘Remapping America’ with 1,000 technological townhall meetings is entirely workable. If you can vote on television bullsh*t programmes like ‘America’s Got Talent’ & ‘Dancing On Ice’ by touch telephone, there’s no reason why the electorate couldn’t register their votes/support for any issue using a similar system. The “will to do it” is the only thing missing so far… You can find out more on the website – http://www.onevoicenow.org/
“The truth is not known, beneath the sky of stars,
Whether they were of heaven or earth.”
[Lebor Gebála Érénn ]
Golden rays from the sun covered Eireann’s green fields that morning. A strange ethereal mist floated across the plains, filling them with a haunted ghostly air only previously matched by the Elysian fields of Hades.
The Tuatha De Danann were camped on the hill and made ready. Across the plain, the hordes of the Firbolg were visible in the distance, slowly marching against them.
Lugh surveyed the scene, through ‘Infinity’ the magic looking eye of the Druids. He saw their weapons in fine detail, the glint of the sun sparking on their axes, the shimmer of their moon-metal swords. No sign of Balor amongst them. There was hope of a fair and even battle.
His men armed themselves, as the last of their armour was locked into place. Battle-hardened men, keen for the blood of their sworn enemies who’d tried to enslave them. This would be Balor’s tax payment.
The sound of stone on metal filled the air, as the lines of the Tuatha sharpened their swords to perfection. Horse sweat and silent foreboding filled their nostrils as the mounted warriors drew up to their rear.
Nuada assembled his silver arm, his eyes fixed in concentration, his mind focused on the day’s work. Dermiud the poet tuned his lute and struck up inspiring song lines to fill the Tuatha De with hope…
“Long is the road, dark is the night,
Tuatha make ready, fresh is the fight –
Slaven no more, slay Balor’s hordes,
Rise with the dawn, march into the light” …
As the song lines rang out, Miach the Druid, son of Dianceht, held his hands aloft in front of Nuada. Grabbing magic from the heavens, he brought it down upon the silver arm. He infused motion and feeling into it, the final preparation before the battle. Nuada was ready. He could now take his place at the front of his men as their King, complete and whole.
Lugh also took his place in the front line and made ready with his spear, as the battle witches Bodhbh, Macha, and Mor Kegan chewed upon their thumbs and cursed the approaching enemy. Their strange whispering got gradually louder as the sky turned black above the Firbolg. Even the Tuatha shivered where they stood at the sound of the curses being vexed upon their foes.
Suddenly the sky cracked open as a lightning rod flashed downwards and struck into the heart of the Firbolg. Their men scattered outwards as thunder rumbled above them. As the earth they stood upon quaked, blood rained down upon the Firbolg, falling from the heavens in a torrent.
As the ground turned red around them, drenched to the bone in supernatural blood, they looked upon the Dannan with unfathomable hate. Who did they think they were, these fair headed elves with their magic ships and druidic curses? The Firbolg would level them once they got within striking distance.
But the rain wouldn’t stop. The Firbolg looked at one another in confusion. The battle witches of the Danann spoke louder as their whispered curses became screams. Bolts of fire struck into the Firbolg, breaking their lines once again.
They called upon witches of their own. The Firbolg sent out a messenger to summon Cesara, Gnathach, and Ingnathach. The sisters had enough magic to match those of the Dannan.
And so they waited for deliverance from the rain of blood…
[ To Be Continued ] …
Seán Gearárd McCloskey, 2016
‘The Sea Priestess’ by Violet Mary Firth aka Dion Fortune – what more can you say? A woman who almost single-handed brought back the ‘Goddess Aspect’ & the ‘Divine Feminine’ to the modern world. Her depth of knowledge of the esoteric is near second-to-none and it shows throughout this wonderful piece of coded fiction. A thousand new-age gurus could only hope to get close to this. Fully recommended 😉
The Testimony of Seonaid Nic Neacail:
“When I was about 5 years of age, just one year after my father came back from the War against the Russians, the whole township was warned by the factor at the time of paying the rents, that his ‘Lordship’ was wanting the people to move away from the township, in order that his lordship could let out the ground to Shepherds from the Lowlands. The menfolk did not believe that they would have to move, as there was plenty of ground where sheep could graze.
However two months later a notice ( In English ) was posted, requiring the inhabitants to remove themselves, their goods and chattels, within ONE Month. A Visiting Priest translated the notice into Ghaidhlig for them, but the Menfolk still did not believe that his Lordship would cast them out into the depths of winter. However three months went past without anything being done by the factor, and the people of the Township relaxed. There had been rumours of ‘terrible doings’ elsewhere, of people being turned out and the roof trees of the houses being destroyed, but this was ‘elsewhere’.
Suddenly in the month of January, the factor turned up, accompanied by a large number of policemen from Glasgow, Lowlands Estate workers and Sheriffs Officers from Dunedin and told the people of the township to be out of their homes by dawn the following day, where they would be taken to Ullapool to be put on board a ship to the Americas (Nova Scotia). The menfolk were cast down ( in modern parlance – ‘Shattered’ ) and only the womenfolk made any protests. A group of them went to the factor to protest and were beaten up by the policemen’s batons, my Mother amongst them.
A Terrible Dawn Rises:
The Dawn came, hardly anyone had moved their possessions and furniture out, we waited to see what would happen. An hour after dawn, the factor and his men went to the house of Eachunn MacLeoid, a widower of 86 years of age, thrust him out of his house and proceeded to throw his chattels out of the door. Then two men with axes cut through the rooftrees, causing the roof to collapse. They then piled winter forage inside the door and put a torch to it. Within a few minutes the pall of smoke had rolled through the township, causing panic as people raced to save their few things before the factors men arrived.
Our house was next, my mother tried to stop the men entering the door, they called us ‘Irish filth’ and one of them floored her with a mighty punch to the head and laid her out senseless on the floor. My father tried to protect her, despite having one arm, but he was punched and kicked senseless by four of the policemen. My brothers and I managed to drag our parents out of the house, and by the time we had got them outside, the axemen had already cut through the rooftrees. They then set fire to the house and went next to the house of my Uncle Coinneach.
I remembered that my doll was on our bed, it was a precious thing, that my father had brought back from the war. A rag body with a lovely china head, which my mother had sewn clothes for; I ran into the house to get it, through choking smoke, but I could not find it. Aonghas beag came after me and took me outside.
Welcome To Hell:
It was like the picture of Hell I once saw in the Ministers bible, smoke and flames everywhere, you could hardly see in front of your face. My Mother was kneeling by my father, cradling his bloodstained head and sobbing for the thing that had befallen her family and the loss of her few precious things.
Some terrible things occurred after this, the policemen and factors men were reeking of whisky before they started, and when they found the whisky from Uncle Coinneach’s ‘Poit Dubh’, the Evil got worse. They took a delight in smashing some of the chattels which had been salvaged, and at the house of Eibhlin and Aoirig MhicNeacail ( Unmarried orphaned Cousins of my Father ) – the two girls, only 14 and 17 were forcibly taken by some of the policemen, who did not spare their tender years and ravished them.
“Pig-Shit Irish Bastard’s”:
Their screams brought many of the menfolk to their aid, but by this time the policemen were the devils themselves because of the whisky, and they laid into the menfolk with their batons and clubs. One man who tried to stop them by firing at them with a fowling piece, was clubbed to the ground senseless, then bound hand and foot after which they kicked him for ages. All the time they were screaming insults like ‘pig shit Irish bastard’s’. Poor man he died that night from an efflux of blood from the mouth.
After this the spirit went from us, and the menfolk were saying that this was a visitation upon us by the Almighty in punishment of our sins, and that we should not resist further. During the night Eibhlin and Aoirig hanged themselves for the shame of what had been done to them and the bodies were buried in the vegetable plot without a Minister present and even then the Policemen showed their loathing of us by passing water on the girls bodies.
The Devil’s Work:
By Noon the Devil had done his work, and the factors men rounded us up like beasts and we were made to walk to Ullapool, carrying what we could , and driving our few beasts before us. It took us two days to get there, I had no shoes and my feet were very sore. We were all Cold and wet from the icy wind and smirr. We were all hungry as we did not have any food. Some people in a nearby township took pity on us and tried to give us food, but the factor warned them, that anyone who did aid us would have the same treatment and a passage to America. We got no food.
At Night we took what shelter we could, behind walls, with blankets for a tent, but it was bitterly cold, and we could not sleep. A woman gave birth before her time and the baby was born dead and a three weeks old baby died of cold and the bodies were put in the ground without a christian burial or marker.
At last we got to Ullapool, to find the emigrant ship moored in the roads, with boats waiting at the stone wharf. The factor then took all the beasts and the few possessions which the people had got with them, as ‘Payment’ for our passage. Each person was given a bag of ‘Sowans’ (Husked oatmeal) to last us the voyage and we were told to be ready to embark the following day. The policemen guarded us all that night, but there was no sleep for us, for the lamenting and sorrow would not let us go by.
Before dawn, my father noticed a fishing boat approaching the wharf and recognised one of the crew as cousin Domhnull from PuirtRigh ( Portree ). Domhnull persuaded the owner to come alongside the wharf, and we got in quickly before the policemen noticed. The boat pulled away, and the policemen called out to the Boats crew to return to the wharf, but as they called out in the English tongue which no one understood, we left them shouting and cursing us.
It took two days to row to PuirtRigh, we sheltered one night in the lee of Raasay and at last came to the house of my fathers cousin, where we were made welcome. They were poor like us, but their home was our home. My Father found a small place in the south at Torrin and my Mother found employment in service to the local minister, indeed I went into service for Him too when I was twelve.
Some years later we learned that the ship had arrived in Nova Scotia, but that half the People had not survived the voyage. Cholera and typhus had carried them off and their grave was the sea, with only the fish to know their resting place and the keening of the seabirds their only lament. I cannot forgive the cruelty of that awful day, what had we done that we should have been judged so harshly?
Source : Alexander McKenzie ‘The History of the Highland Clearances’ [pub 1883 ]
Meritocracy : A Revolution Of The Mind
A Beginners Guide Book
Authored by Seán Gearárd McCloskey
You may have overheard the word “Meritocracy” before, seen it on a poster somewhere, or came across it as part of a meme on the internet and wondered what it actually meant?
In explaining Meritocracy in simple terms, I hope to de-mystify this concept and make a case for its values in the modern world. Only when a reader has enough information available to make a decision, can he/she decide to champion a cause, or not.
This introductory book sets out to do just that. In providing sufficient background of the subject within a modern context, you will hopefully have gained at least some extra knowledge about activism in general, plus enough overall insight to decide whether this relatively new concept is for you.
I hope to convince you in the following pages that Meritocracy is the political model of the future than everyone can embrace. Meritocracy can change the whole planet for the better and you can be part of that change!
Seán Gearárd McCloskey
Publication Date: Feb 12 2016
ISBN/EAN13:1519204523 / 9781519204523
Page Count: 272
Binding Type: US Trade PaperTrim
Size: 5.5″ x 8.5″
Color: Black and White
Related Categories: Political Science / General
Available NOW in Paperback :
In 1981, a group called Dark Harvest Commando [ which sometimes described itself as being part of the ‘Scottish Civilian Army’ – an early prototype of the SNLA or ‘Scottish National Liberation Army’ ] mounted what was named in the press as ‘Operation Dark Harvest.’
They demanded that the British Government decontaminate Gruinard and reported that a “team of microbiologists from two universities” had landed on the island with the aid of local people and collected 300 lb (140 kg) of soil. [ Containing anthrax spores ]
The group threatened to leave samples of the soil “at appropriate points that will ensure the rapid loss of indifference of the government and the equally rapid education of the general public”.
The same day a sealed package of soil was left outside the military research facility at Porton Down and tests revealed that it did indeed contain anthrax bacilli.
Several days later, another sealed package of soil was left in Blackpool, where the ruling Conservative Party [ Tories ] were holding their annual conference. This soil did not actually contain anthrax, but when tested the soil was similar to that found on the island.
Since then, an effort to decontaminate Gruinard began in 1986. The worst of the infected soil was removed and 280 tonnes of formaldehyde solution diluted in seawater was sprayed over the full 196 hectares of the island. Another flock of sheep was introduced and this time they remained healthy.
The heirs of the island’s original owners were able to buy it back from the British Crown at the original selling price of £500 in 1990.
The Background : Due to the development of the German V2 rockets, Churchill was prepared to use chemical weapons during WW2, in particular, poison gas. Anthrax was also considered by Churchill’s advisors as another separate option under ‘biological warfare.’
His ‘Most Secret PRIME MINISTER’S PERSONAL MINUTE’ to the Chiefs of Staff, 6 July 1944,reads as follows :
“I should be prepared to do anything [Churchill’s emphasis] that would hit the enemy in a murderous place. I may certainly have to ask you to support me in using poison gas. We could drench the cities of the Ruhr and many other cities in Germany …, We could stop all work at the flying bombs starting points…. and if we do it, let us do it one hundred per cent.”
The use of Anthrax had already been developed in the early 1940’s, on a small island off the west coast of Scotland.
From ‘Meritocracy : A Revolution Of The Mind’ by Seán Gearárd McCloskey