Wizards of Lies, or nightmare accountancy?

Would you approve almost one million euro in public money for a company with liabilities of half a million and a cash shortfall of around 200,000?

Hardly.

Strangely, that’s what seems to have happened in the case of SLM, the English call center that closed several weeks ago without warning in the Donegal Gaeltacht leaving many local people still owed a big chunk of back salaries.

Helluva Christmas gift Mr. Scrooge!

And here’s something even more intriguing…

Michael Gallagher, from the coastal village of Falcarragh, is an intelligent and likeable fellow, a man deeply concerned about social justice.

Sensing something amiss, Michael decided to carry out his civic duty and promptly investigated the financials of the Manchester-based company in the official register. Shocked by what he unearthed, he quickly warned two senior staff members at the economic group, Údarás na Gaeltachta, which intended to hand the company close to a million euro of scarce public money.

Michael Gallagher letter about SLM, Udaras and SLM

Alas, Michael’s timely and crucially important information seemed to have been promptly ignored as Údarás went full-steam ahead with its earlier decision to pour 842,000 euro into the company – strongly supported, maybe even led, by Minister of the Gaeltacht, Joe McHugh.

The award was announced with fancy fanfare, with screaming national and local newspaper headlines. Written by Greg Harkin, now a spin doctor for Minister McHugh, an article in ‘The Irish Independent’ read, ‘125 new jobs announced at SLM Éire Teo in Donegal.’  Not surprisingly, McHugh – who seemingly went to school with SLM manager James Moran and flew to Manchester to seal the deal – was given a pretty quote about being ‘delighted.’

The Údarás website blasted, ‘UK Digital Marketing company to create 125 jobs in Gaoth Dobhair, Co. Donegal,’ with its then CEO  Steve Ó Cúláin saying, “Today’s announcement is the result of Údarás’ enterprise strategy for this vibrant Gaeltacht region. I wish the promoters of SLM Éire every success and wish to thank the Údarás employees whose dedication is helping to make this jobs announcement become a reality.”

Cupán Tae

Meanwhile, quite separately, my interest in SLM began in the most innocent of ways – over a welcome cup of tea shared with a fellow jogger after a challenging morning run. The person worked at the call centre and complained training was lax, pay was the legal minimum, bonus targets were pretty much unreachable and on-the-floor Manchester managers were as scarce as a prickly cactus growing in the turf bogs. Adding that only around 30 people worked there, a far cry from the 125 promised more than a year before.

Two weeks later, on December 3, an article appeared in the ‘Donegal News,’ with the surprising headline ‘SLM Eire Teo Plans To Increase Its Workforce.

Strangely – considering the company closed its doors permanently in Donegal a few short weeks later, barely one year into operations – local SLM manager, James Moran and Paid O’ NeachtainÚdarás public relations director, both said the company would employ more people.

Sheer ignorance? Spin doctoring? Who knows?

Out of the quagmire that has resulted, a key question remains: why did a supposedly experienced, national economic organization such as Údarás award such a formidable grant to a company obviously struggling to make ends meet?

Michael Gallagher discovered SLM Manchester at end financial year 2015 had liabilities of 556,400 pounds sterling and a cash shortfall of 171,600. My Freedom of Information request showed Údarás approved an employment grant for SLM of 614,000 euro, plus a 60,000 employment grant for managers, a training grant of 100,000 and rent subsidy of 68,000.

budget for SLM Donegal, Udaras funding SLM Donegal

Is no-one at Údarás trained in simple analytical accountancy? Did they simply choose to ignore SLM’s shaky financial situation? Or did Minister McHugh – for political kudos through positive media coverage – override concerns that may have been raised by Údarás staff? Or indeed, did everyone involved truly believe this was an employment bonanza for the Donegal Gaeltacht but were duped by SLM owners?

The answer my friend – to use the words of a well-known song ‘…is blowin’ in the wind.’ And, as usual in modern Ireland, no-one’s taking responsibility for failings.

Isn’t this exactly what got Ireland into economic quicksand? Isn’t this why the World Bank and the IMF own us? Isn’t this why health and education are underfunded, why sick people with IVs in their arms are sleeping on chairs in hospital corridors?

If you want to know more about how Údarás spends scarce public money, simply e-mail Cathal O Gallachóir c.ogall (at) udaras.ie and ask for information under FOI. With what you find out, you might even be encouraged to do what Michael Gallagher did, write a letter to the editor Údarás challenged on SLM dealings thus placing important information in the public arena, or notifying concerned councilors such as new Údarás board member, John Sheamais O’Fearraigh.

John Sheamais O’Fearraigh, Udaras Donegal

Curious to know how many SLM jobs that Údarás included in its annual summary, I have requested the much-delayed 2016 report, which 13 months later has still not been published.

It’s still blowin’ in the wind…

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Irish music in Donegal attracts international aficionados from far and wide — world itineraries

Shooting of sci-fi movie ‘Star Wars: the Last Jedi’ in Donegal may have brought international attention to Ireland’s most northerly region recently, but the county’s annual traditional music festival ‘Scoil Gheimhridh’ has brought international visitors. In the space of just fifteen minutes this week at Amharclann, Donegal’s newest theater in the coastal village of Bunbeg […]

via Irish music in Donegal attracts international aficionados from far and wide — world itineraries

My Peculiar Movie Story

It’s not often one watches an exciting suspense movie based on true events, then wander into a bar an hour later and meet some of the very people involved in the real thing.

But that happened to me recently.

It was an intriguing, once-in-a-lifetime experience.

And, who knows, may lead to my novel ‘Pretty Ugly’ being turned into a big hit at the box-office.

I’m not what you’d call a movie buff, in part because the nearest cinema is over an hour from my home along a winding mountain pass through Glenveagh National Park in the remotest northwest corner of coastal Ireland plumb on the Wild Atlantic Way. And I don’t have Netflix. And I rarely watch television.

But I’d met former prisoner and IRA hunger striker turned writer, Laurence McKeown, whose latest play had been performed at my local theater, which I reviewed, and we’d agreed to meet in Belfast, my native city, on my next trip there.

Laurence McKeown, Sean Hillen author,

Meeting Laurence McKeown (r) – a man who has achieved so much in a lifetime – was an absolute pleasure.

A week or so later, I went there to talk to Laurence about being a guest trainer at the annual ‘Ireland Writing Retreat’ that my wife, Columbia, and I host every year in the heart of the Donegal Gaeltacht (which he agreed to do and was a terrific success).

While chatting, he asked if I’d be interested in seeing the world premiere of a new movie entitled ‘Maze’ based on actual events about a mass breakout from a prison of the same name just outside Belfast in 1983, where he himself had been incarcerated for 16 years.

I remembered the break-out well for though I had by then emigrated to America and was working as a journalist in Kansas City, I’d read about it in the papers and my parents had told me details over the phone from their working-class home in west Belfast where some of the prisoners were from.

The Movie House on Belfast’s Dublin Road was packed for the evening premiere, with some former prisoners who’d been part of the escape and local political and social leaders seated in the audience. I came early and nabbed a central place near the front.

Maze’ is written and directed by Stephen Burke, known for ‘Happy Ever Afters’ (2009), ‘81’ (1997) and ‘After 68’ (1994). By chance, both Stephen and I attended the same Belfast school, St. Mary’s, during our teenage years. The movie is an engrossing cinematic accomplishment based on a well-written script. Created on a low budget, it is filled with emotion and raw passion, philosophical musings, exciting action and slow-fuse suspense focusing on the escape by 38 IRA members, the biggest prison escape in Europe since World War II, from what was then considered the best-guarded prison in Europe. The acting is superb, with Tom Vaughan-Lawlor as Larry Marley, the mastermind behind the daring escape, and Barry Ward as a prison officer, Gordon Close, in the starring roles. The caliber of the supporting cast is equally impressive.

As the movie ended, I was delighted to see an old acquaintance, Brendan Gunn, whom I’d not seen in several decades, receive much-deserved mention in the credits. Brendan is a gifted linguist and dialect coach and his brilliant work helped the main actors, who are from around Dublin, adopt a broad northern Irish accent, pivotal for credibility and character backstory. A pioneer in this specialized movie-related field in Ireland when he first began his work in the mid-1980s, Brendan’s ‘students’ have included a remarkable list of mega-stars such as Brad Pitt, Robert De Niro, Edward Norton, Aidan Quinn, Cate Blanchett, Jim Sturgess, Julia Roberts, Richard Gere, Natalie PortmanDaniel Day Lewis, Penelope Cruz, Saoirse Ronan and Colin Farrell.

Leaving the cinema after talking briefly to Stephen about my novel ‘Pretty Ugly,’ based in part on the life of former US Senator Edward Kennedy, as a future movie proposal, and to Laurence who spoke on a post-show panel, I drove homeward through quiet streets.

Feeling thirsty after being inside for several hours, I decided to stop off at the Felon’s Club, a stone’s throw from my mother’s home in Andersonstown. The Felon’s is an important place in local Belfast folklore. It started life as a parochial hall before becoming a school and then being transformed into a local drinking club and, as its name suggests, a popular gathering center for IRA members, many of whom were avoiding – or had just been released from – prison. I’d heard Brendan ‘Bik’ McFarlane, a former leader of the Maze prisoners and a talented musician and singer, was playing there and I was curious to hear him.

As luck would have it, Bik had not started his performance when I arrived and I found him standing at the bar. We chatted, making our way back to the reception area to the security guard on duty. Telling both men I’d just come from seeing the movie they both suddenly became curious, asking me questions about it. Then they announced deadpan that they were among the 38 who had escaped. Excited and keen to learn more, I encouraged them to tell me their stories of what happened to them that fateful day.

Some of what they said was adrenalin-filled stuff, much of it more exciting than what we see in movies. About how they managed to smuggle guns into the prison ahead of the escape (the movie shows them doing this inside cans of paint, but actually Bik said the guns were smuggled painstakingly by their individual parts over a period of time, then put together inside the prison; how they surprised the on-duty guards at gun-point by timing their shift changes between cell-blocks; how unfortunately they ran head-on into more guards at the front gates of the prison and how a brawl broke out, with shots being fired;  how, rushing through the open gates, they were torn to shreds struggling through rolls of barbed wire outside, then fled madcap through fields searching for escape routes, with trained search dogs, armed soldiers and police hot on their heels). After our hour-long chat, one thing became crystal clear – fact can sometimes be stranger than fiction.

That’s my movie story – and more importantly – that’s their real-life story.


See the Winter Offer for ‘Pretty Ugly’

Donegal: take the cue from Catalonia

So – fed up with Spain’s lack of support – Catalonia has voted for independence.

And even if it doesn’t achieve that, it will at the very least get a much better economic deal from lawmakers in Madrid.

Meanwhile in Ireland, Donegal is shown this week once again why it’s still – even more than ever – the ‘Forgotten County.’

A glossy, 151-page recently-released ‘National Development Framework’ report states categorically that spending much effort on helping the county and the Northwest in general will “demand some level of constraint on Dublin,” adding, that this “could result in diminishing the scale of overall national development.”

Not one single urban center earmarked for future development in the plan lies anywhere near Donegal. And there’s no mention of linking Letterkenny, Derry and Strabane in a much-heralded economic hub.

Is it not time to shove off the shackles and go the way of Catalonia?

Is it not time to revisit my idea from several years ago as published in a series of full-page articles in the ‘Donegal News’ for the establishment of an Independent Republic of Donegal?

Sounds like the work of a depraved mind? Of a man standing too long in the rain?

I ask you: hold off on that view until you’ve first read the articles:

Democratic Republic of Donegal

Donegal: the ‘Remembered County’

Then see if perhaps you don’t agree that it might actually be a well-considered and pragmatic approach to solving all of Donegal’s long-time economic and employment woes.

Indeed, rapidly – though not quite overnight – it perhaps might even transform the county of Donegal into the richest per capita region in the entire nation, north and south.

Fond reading.

Clannad create colorful tapestry of Celtic music

With suitable Pagan-purple stage backdrop curtains and lead singer and harpist Máire (Moya) Brennan dressed Priestess-like in long black silk dress and green lace shawl with bracelet and amulet glimmering in the footlights, Druidic-sounding Celtic group Clannad returned to their old hunting grounds this weekend to rapturous applause from packed audiences at the Donegal Gaeltacht’s Amharclann theater.

It has been 41 years since the Gaoth Dobhair band last played at this historic theater in the heart of Ireland’s northwest Irish speaking region – a venue opened only seven months ago after being closed for many years – and they proudly announced upon stepping on stage, “We’re so very glad to be back where it all started.”

Amharclann theater, Gweedore theater

Packed audience at Amharclann prepare for an evening of high-level entertainment.

Moya, together with her brother, Pól, an impressive multi-instrumentalist; a second brother, Ciarán, on double bass and synthesizer; her uncle Noel on guitar and synthesizer; her daughter, Aisling, and guitar, bouzouki and bodhrán, and son Paul on cajon (a native Peruvian instrument) and bodhrán, captivated their packed audience with a unique blend of ethereal Celtic music with modern New Age eclectic fusions and intricate harmonies that have made them famous far beyond Irish shores.

Such was the high quality of the weekend’s two performances, well-known cultural enthusiast and Irish-language teacher, Reuben Ó Conluain, attended both shows. When we happened to meet for post-show drinks afterwards at Leo’s Tavern in Meenaleck, home pub of Clannad and their parents, Reuben, who was involved in designing the new Junior Cycle Specification for Irish, introduced to post-primary schools last August and has also brought over hundreds of Irish musicians to the annual Festival Interceltique in Lorient, Brittany, told me enthusiastically, “I went to the first performance on Friday and it was just so good, I had to go again on Saturday.”

Another welcome audience member was Linda Ervine from Belfast, sister-in-law of the late unionist politician David Ervine. Linda introduced ‘teanga Gaeilge’ to the capital by setting up Irish language classes in loyalist parts of east Belfast.

Kudos to acting theater director, Pól McCool, a teacher at Pobalscoil Ghaoth Dobhair (Gweedore Community School), and all the volunteers and board members at Amharclann for making the first seven months of the theater so successful, with such diverse performances such as Laurence McKeown writer of play ‘Green & Blue’ has led an intriguing life and ‘AON’ – an exhilarating dance performance that teases out meanings.

For those not overly familiar with Clannad, especially people from other countries – the Saturday’s audience reflected a multi-national flavor, with Germans, Dutch, English, Americans and Romanians in attendance – special images and text on the screen in the theater’s café explained the group’s evolution from a local singing family to mega-stars.

Clannad live in concert, Moya Brennan in concert, Donegal musicians

Pagan-colors for a leading Druidic Celtic music group.

In short, as explained there, Clannad won a competition at a Letterkenny folk festival in 1973, with ‘Liza,’ a song written by Pádraig Duggan (uncle of Moya and siblings who sadly died last year), who described it as “a pop song in Gaelic that I wrote sitting on the rooftop of Leo’s Tavern.” The prize was a record deal with Philips, and thus the band turned professional.

With strong musical influences from such well-known groups of the time as The Beatles and The Beach Boys, Clannad translated pop songs as Gaeilge, a pioneering accomplishment back then. In 1982, a major breakthrough occurred when the group’s album ‘Magical Ring’ was released with the song ‘Theme from Harry’s Game’ on it, written by Pól for the Yorkshire Television series ‘Harry’s Game,’ set during the Northern Ireland conflict. The song reached Nr. 5 in the UK singles chart and Nr. 2 in Ireland. The group’s later 1985 album ‘Macalla’ included a duet between Moya and Bono of U2 on ‘In A Lifetime.’ In 1997, their ‘Landmarks’ album won them a Grammy.

Saturday’s musical evening, wonderfully hosted by Áine Ní Churráin, kicked-off with an excellent 30-minute performance from ‘home-grown’ guitarist-singer-songwriter, Emma Ní Fhíoruisce, one of a number of young local people taught their musical prowess by Caitlin and PJ Joe Jack Curran at An Crann Óg community center in Bunbeg, and now working on her debut album.

Emma’s impressive repertoire ranged from a doleful ‘as Gaeilge’ rendition of a classic Bob Dylan song about (naturally) heartbreak; a composition of her own – in effect, a musical eulogy – on the death of a close friend and its effect on her; a mellifluous ballad about her beloved native Gaoth Dobhair; and an ‘as Gaeilge’ version of the Marvin Gaye hit ‘I Heard It Through The Grapevine.’ The fact that Emma had audience members clicking their fingers and joining in on the choruses attest to her on-stage talent.

Stroking the harp strings beautifully, Moya introduced the first Clannad song of the evening – ‘Crann Úll’ (Apple Tree), from the group’s fifth album of the same name, released in 1980, about the ‘Tree of Life’ and the need for people to support each other. Other traditional tunes followed including the waulking song ‘Mòrag’s na hóro èile.’ Such songs were chanted by people as they beat newly woven tweed rhythmically against a table or similar surface to soften it. A waulking session often begins with slow-paced songs, with the tempo increasing as the cloth becomes softer.

Two songs from Tory Island enlivened the proceedings even further, ‘Na Buachaillí Alainn’ (The Beautiful Boys), with an angelic harp intro, and the tribute to drinking ‘Níl ‘na Lá’ (It’s Not Day Yet).

Not all songs were ‘as Gaeilge,’ with a melodic rendering of the musical version of the immortal W.B. Yeats poem ‘Down By The Sally Gardens’ and the naughty, mischievous ‘Two Sisters,’ about the unforeseen complications of wayward love, including death by hanging and being boiled in lead.

Clannad in Gweedore, Clannad music, live music in Donegal

Multi-talented musical trio.

While Moya held center stage through her mesmerizing voice (no more so than on the haunting ‘I Will Find You’ which featured in the movie ‘Last Of The Mohicans’) and her delicate harpist skills, each member of the group played their role skillfully in the success of the evening. Aside from being a lively on-stage presence, Pól seems at ease on any instrument – picking up tin whistle, guitar, bodhrán, synthesizer and flute at will, not to mention having a fine singing voice.

Being a Pagan-like evening of music, ‘Newgrange,’ a song about the ancient Druidic site in County Meath, written by Ciarán and released in 1982 on the album ‘Magical Ring’ and in 1983 as a single, seemed more than appropriate. The quiet guitarist’s musical flare also shone through in his take on ‘Liza,’ the encore, written by the late Padraig. Launching into the melody with verve and looking all the while like a cross between an aging Elvis, Johnny Cash and Van Morrison, with a Mr. Pickwick hairstyle, Ciarán rocked the venue with his nifty country lickin’ guitar work.

‘Téir Abhaile Riú’ (Go Home With You) provided a grand sweeping finale to a most agreeable harmonious evening. With two days of packed audiences, some from different countries, to say Clannad will be welcomed back soon to their old hunting grounds is a severe understatement.

Are yoga, thai chai and reiki dreaded Druidic distractions? Is the anti-cervical cancer vaccine, HPV, the Devil’s poison?

Glancing through last Friday’s edition of the ‘Donegal News,’ I was dazzled by the sheer creativity of people from Ireland, (see a particularly interesting article on page 47 focusing on a man who lasted 70 days in prison without food and is now a Doctor in Sociology and a well-known Irish playwright and film and documentary script writer).

It’s as if the artists of every shade throughout Ireland and particularly in my resident county, Donegal – musicians, actors, painters, dancers et al – feel they have a deep, abiding, age-old responsibility to uphold our ancient rich Gael culture, and in doing so, prevent its dilution.

And I don’t mean – wonderful though it is – simply the native folk music and song of the lauded, award-winning Frosses-native Rita Gallagher and Gaoth Dobhair’s Mairead Ni Mhaonaigh (who play this Thursday at the Balor Arts Centre as part of the Bluestacks Festival).

rita Gallagher, Mairead Ni Mhaonaigh

Winners of TG4 Gradam Ceoil Awards.

I mean our vast spread of artistic talent, first brought here to these shores when definitive Celtic traditions arrived from places such as Romania and Gaul (Gallia) in the fourth century B.C.

Then, unlike all other islands, Alice Stopford Green tells us in her work ‘Irish Nationality,’ Ireland, “was circled round with mountains, whose precipitous cliffs rose sheer above the water standing as bulwarks against the immeasurable sea, providing a bulwark – though sadly not an invincible one – against invaders of all kinds. And certainly, helping far-flung places such as Donegal escape foreign domination.” (unlike the Pale of Dublin which followed a completely different tract).

Irish chroniclers tell of a vast Celtic antiquity, with a shadowy line of monarchs reaching back some two thousand years before Christ: legends of lakes springing forth; of lowlands cleared of wood; the appearance of rivers, the making of roads and causeways, the first digging of wells: the making of forts; invasions and battles and plagues.

The Celts or Gaels exalted and encouraged learning in national life. Professors of every school roamed freely here and the warrior’s duty was to protect them. There were periodical exhibitions of everything the people esteemed—democracy, literature, tradition, art, commerce, law, sport, the Druid religion, even rustic buffoonery. The years between one festival and another were spent in serious preparation for the next.

Innovative arts programme at the Balor Arts Center, Ballybofey, Donegal.

The law of the Celts was the law of the people. They never lost their trust in it. They never followed a central authority, for their law needed no such sanction. A multitude of maxims were drawn up to direct the conduct of the people.

While the code was one for the whole race, the administration on the other hand was divided into the widest possible range of self-governing communities, which were bound together in a willing federation. The forces of union were not material but spiritual, and the life of the people consisted not in its military cohesion but in its joint spiritual inheritance—in the union of those who shared the same tradition, the same glorious memory of heroes, the same unquestioned law, and the same pride of literature.

So deeply was their importance felt, the Irish have kept these tradition diligently, and even in the darkest times of our history, down to the 17th century, still gathered to ‘meetings on hills’ to exercise their law and hear their learned men.

Not-to-be-missed performer.

So please think of this rich vein of cultural tradition that we’ve inherited when you read this week about the wealth of artistic talent on display here in Donegal and throughout Ireland – the multi-talented Pat Kinevane from Temple Bar-based Fishamble enacting not one but three separate one-man plays beginning this Friday with ‘Forgotten,’ at An Grianan in Letterkenny, a fine venue under the organization of Patricia McBride, Helene McMenamin, Daithi Ramsay and other staff members; Fishamble’s literary officer, Gavin Kostick, hosting playwriting masterclasses this Saturday there; the Regional Cultural Centre in Letterkenny, under the direction of Shaun Hannigan, presenting a feast of autumn concerts, kicking-off with the duet of Eliza Carty and Tim Eriksen this Friday evening; and ‘The Ghostlight Sessions’ at the Balor Arts Centre in Ballybofey tonight, an evening of original music curated by Nikki Pollock (Mojo Gogo) and Dean Maywood and featuring ‘In Their Thousands’ and ‘Without Willow.’

Not to mention ‘The Donegal Voices’ this Friday in Ballyshannon performing Handel’s magnificent ‘Coronation Anthems’ and the ‘Hallelujah Chorus.’ Many of the performances are funded by the Donegal County Council/An Comhairle Ealaion.

First Lady of Celtic music – Donegal-born Moya Brennan.

And if you missed Moya Brennan of Clannad performing a few days ago with her husband, Tim, daughter Aisling and son Paul, in Teac Leo in Crolly, in support of the Inishowen Floods Fund, you’ll surely get the chance again to hear this brilliantly talented family in the future. The same goes for ‘Shoot The Gear,’ a fine piece of theater with a fishing-community based theme facilitated by the Killybegs Fishermen’s Organization, written by An Grianan Theatre artist-in-residence, Guy Le Jeune, and performed by a cast of local actors, singers and musicians including Fionn Robinson, Louise Conaghan, Orlaith Gilchreest and Ronan Carr.

Speaking of music, what a terrific accomplishment by Donegal Music Education Partnership (DMEP) manager, Martin McGinley, and his team, including tutor and pianist, Ellen Quinn, Maureen Fryer-Kelsey and James Sarsteiner , with help from Marianne Lynch of Donegal County Council Library Services in putting together a new online library of more than 1,500 musical items that the public can easily access.

Martin McGinley (left) – Journalist, editor, fiddle player par excellence, now manager of Donegal Music Education Partnership.

However, as we rightly attempt to emulate our rich, multi-layered Celtic past, I would issue a sharp warning. While the keystone of our proud ancestors’ beliefs was based on the premise of democracy, each individual having a fair say, let us beware.

The Catholic Church – so long dominant in Irish society after vanquishing Druidic life, more so in rural Irish society – must now learn to accept – in turn – its rapidly changing place. And that place is no longer its own self-styled, unquestioning right to direct all community groups, especially on sensitive matters of finance. Too often have I heard complaints here in the Donegal Gaeltacht and elsewhere in Ireland about frocked priests and bishops sitting at the heads of tables, making vital decisions, often cunningly in an underhand way ahead of the formal committee meetings, on where vital monies should go. And not always to the benefit of the community as a whole – but to the church in particular.

My own area, Cnoc Fola, has just received a grant of 40,000 euro from Fine Gael Minister Joe McHugh. Considering the rather incestuous relationship between the Catholic Church and successive ruling political parties in Ireland – Fianna Fail and Fine Gael – is it reasonable for me to expect there is no payback expected, from both church and state, for this money, in terms of votes and support?

Is it also reasonable for me to trust the word of men in long black coats who describe yoga, thai chai and reiki as activities that ‘endanger our souls’ and who also discourage women from taking the HPV vaccine against cervical cancer, saying it simply encourages widespread promiscuity and immorality? And who move child abusing clergy from parish to parish?

Some months ago in a previous blog, I invited a well-known, rather affable west Donegal Gaeltacht priest, Brian O’Fearraigh, to join community members in our weekly yoga sessions at An Crann Og in Gaoth Dobhair. He hasn’t made an appearance yet. My offer is still open. He’d receive a warm ‘Cead Mile Failte’ from very friendly people there.

What do these seemingly unrelated issues – yoga, thai chai, reiki and the HPV vaccine – have in common, anyway? Freedom of mind and body, of course. And such displays of individual identity are perceived as hot, red-light dangers by most major corporation and institutions, especially the more conservative ones.
Wait for it, it’ll be swimming, cycling, swing dancing and jazz next. Oh, I forgot, the latter was already forbidden by the Church to all God-fearing people some years ago.

Does that mean God-loving people can enjoy such relaxing music? Even if they are Druids, Pagans, atheists, agnostics or pantheists and their God is Mother Nature herself?

Notes 

Hope you like my latest published novel, the suspense Pretty Ugly, linking Donegal and other parts of Ireland, including Belfast, with the US cities of Boston, New York, Kansas City and Washington DC.

Interested in creative writing? A novel? Biographical memoir? Play or movie script? See Ireland Writing Retreat

Mayo GAA: The Mighty and the Meek, They Shall Inherit the Earth

What I will write here may seem the realm of the fantastic, but bear with me and for a moment merely consider the possibility that it may be true.

Also, keep in mind, there is no existing evidence that it’s not true.

A few days ago, I had the utmost pleasure of sitting with novelist, playwright, radio and television social and political commentator and former public relations director of Sinn Fein, Danny Morrison, in the Upper Cusack Stand at the venerable Croke Park Coloseum to watch what – for me – was one of the most exciting, thrilling sporting spectacles I have every witnessed, either live or recorded.

Granted, my complete and utter support was with Mayo and I was devastated that particular, rather impoverished, mainly rural western county lost – especially in the aching way that it did. Though not half as heart-broken as the throngs of anguished people – hardy grown men, teenagers, young children, mothers and grandmothers – who shuffled past me for the exit gates at the final whistle, tears flowing profusely from their eyes.

For the purpose of this post, for those uninterested in Irish GAA football, Mayo – rank outsiders at 3-to1, considerable odds in view of the fact that there were only two teams on the pitch for this All-Ireland football final and both had 15 skilled, experienced able-bodied men each – lost its ninth final since 1989 and the chance to win its first Sam Maguire Cup in 66 years. Indeed, this was the third time in five years it has lost in the final (including a narrow defeat after a replay to Dublin last September, its rivals again this past Sunday). In sheer contrast, for Dublin Sunday’s victory marked their first three-in-a-row in 94 years.

In terms of probability, the cumulative odds of Mayo losing so many finals are probably calculated in the millions to one (not bad odds if you’re fond of punting a penny or two at the local bookmakers).

So how did this peculiar, bizarre defying-the-odds situation come to pass?

Let’s consider for a moment that it had nothing to do with football.

I know, I know you’re thinking: ‘that’s ridiculous, it’s football, one team wins and one team loses, that’s how the game is played, and the team that wins is the one that scores most goals/points.

But million to one odds of such a thing happening? By reason alone, is that even possible?

My contention is that something else – something strange, something far beyond football –could be at play here.

So, as a committed pantheist, this is my take on last Sunday’s fantastic football final.

It has been reported that there’s a curse on the Mayo football team that has prevented it winning the coveted All-Ireland football final since 1951. That curse, the reports go, was placed upon the team by an angry priest. The reason: the team on its victorious way back home across Ireland by bus with the Cup in safe stow came upon a funeral and failed to pay their rightful respects to the dead.

That story smells of a downright lie.

Why?

Because there are no funerals in Catholic Ireland on the Sabbath, the very day the football final is played. And don’t be telling me the Mayo team, any team, wouldn’t rush back home with the coveted trophy on the very day it won it.

You might then ask: ‘then where did this story originate, and why?

Credit where credit is due.

The Catholic Church, universally, not just in Ireland, has developed a highly-sophisticated propaganda machine over the centuries since it emerged from its ancient Egyptian forbearers (Google details on Isis and Osiris to find out how the Church unashamedly plagiarized and cunningly adapted an already existing mystery cult that also involved baptism in water).

mayo curse, GAA football

Thus, putting word out in the right circles, media and otherwise, that one of their priests had the power to curse a football team and prevent it from ever winning a national trophy after so many attempts is an easy-peasy task for such a rich and powerful institution.

But there’s another version, one that has been quashed quite easily by that same institution, for its own power-hungry, money-making purposes.

It’s not that the fine, upstanding people of Mayo – for which the players on the 1951 winning team are upstanding Ambassadors – are to blame. It’s not that they failed to pay their respects to the dead. As decent, honest people, they would surely have done so, with the same passion, dedication and sincerity that they showed last Sunday afternoon, even when three points down in the first 85 seconds and playing with just 14 men for almost the entire second half.

There is another possibility (remember, I merely asked at the beginning of this post that you humor me and consider a possibility).

That the players, coaches and management of that wonderful 1951 winning team were down-to-earth, honest-to-goodness people I have no doubt. And for this reason, I don’t agree for a second that they would not pay their sincere respects at the death of a fellow Man.

But what if it was not the dead person they didn’t respect (if there ever was one, which is now in grave doubt for the above mentioned reason), but the priest himself?

What if they didn’t believe, in their hearts of hearts, that this priest was neither dignified or decent enough to be a true representative of any God, regardless of its origin? Further, what if, in their heart of hearts, they actually believed they didn’t need Other Gods, that they themselves were Gods, mini-Gods all interlinked, like all of us here across the Earth, indeed throughout the Universe. That they were – to use Biblical terminology – among ‘the Mighty and the Meek, those who Shall Inherit the Earth.’

Mighty? Absolutely. Was there not more than ample evidence of that on the football pitch Sunday afternoon? In the way the Mayo players fought for every ball no matter how remote the chances were they’d catch it; supported each other so valiantly in every situation; placed themselves in considerable physical danger to capture every ball that came their way.

Meek? Absolutely. Was there not more than ample evidence of that on the football pitch Sunday afternoon? In the quiet, dignified way they accepted defeat, all the more admirable considering they were beaten by one single, solitary point scored by Dean Rock with mere seconds to go after six full minutes of extra time just after their own kicker, Cillian O’Connor, hit the woodwork in a grueling, hard-fought match.

You might now say: ‘it hardly makes a difference now anyway, the priest’s curse won the day, didn’t it?’ Maybe, or perhaps, just perhaps, it wasn’t the power of the priest at all. Maybe it was the misplaced power of belief in the priest by a mass of people. Maybe – as seems to be happening right now following multiple cases of horrendous clerical pedophilia resulting in lies and ruined lives – when more people stop believing in this misguided way, justice and righteousness will return to our Fair(y) Land.

All I ask, dear reader, is for you merely to consider the possibility that what I write here might just be true.

Then we can bang our drums for Mayo again in next year’s final –and hopefully cheer them on as they return Home to their Rightful place as Gods once again.