splashings

 

in the pool of evening

quick silver

ripples widening

forever

cold water thing

risen to exult

in some unthinking imagining

ordinary is wonder enough

what do fishes dream

ripples

 

was the daily mail newspaper group morally capable of lending itself to the framing of deceased broadcaster jimmy saville on trumped up charges of sex abuse

 

This week the Daily Mail and its owners styling themselves Associated Newspapers group, are facing charges emanating from celebrities, private citizens and a member of the royal family, accusing the publishers of various acts of serial spying on named individuals.

Those making the charges include the singer Elton John, Prince Harry of the British royal family, actress Sadie Frost and elderly pensioner Doreen Lawrence.

Doreen Lawrence is the mother of murdered black teenager Stephen Lawrence. Her son was murdered at the age of 18 in 1993 in what is considered to have been a racially motivated street attack.

Among the charges which Elton John, Prince Harry, Sadie Frost and Doreen Lawrence have levelled at the Daily Mail, are the following: Paying police for private information; bugging of cars and phones; use of private detectives for spying; illegally accessing bank accounts and credit histories; impersonating their targeted victims to gain medical information from hospitals and health authorities.

Associated Newspapers the owners of the Daily Mail, are quoted today as saying: "We utterly and unambiguously refute these preposterous smears. These unsubstantiated and highly defamatory claims, based on no credible evidence, appear to be simply a fishing expedition by claimants and their lawyers," 

The Daily Mail has accrued debts in excess of a billion dollars.

heelers defies the swastika

 

A gritty enough suburban church.

At the same time one of the most splendid buildings on earth of course.

I glance around.

There are quite a few people here. It's a lunchtime mass on a weekday and I've wandered in by chance while attending a Jobs Fair in the area.

But there is a crowd here.

Yes, quite a congregation.

People in every pew.

Don't get me wrong.

It's not about the numbers.

It never was.

It's about repent and believe.

It's about love God with all your heart and love your neighbour as much as you love yourself, this is all of the law and all of the Prophets, the whole Bible, the entire revealed truth of the universe.

It's about the reality of Jesus.

It's about this gospel will be preached to the ends of the earth and then the end will come.

Well so I've been told.

And the people are here.

After a fifty year culture war against Christianity in Ireland, the people are still here.

My mind dwells briefly on how throughout my lifetime Independent Newspapers, the Irish Times and the broadcaster RTE have been predicting the imminent demise of the ancient church.

And worse.

They've spent the last fifty years using slander to try and make it happen.

I wonder to myself wryly how many of the congregation here have bought an Irish Times or an Irish Independent lately.

My mind returns to the altar.

With a start I realise that I recognise the priest.

Why it's Father Brian McKevitt.

When I started secondary school in 1978, Father McKevitt taught me a subject styled Civics.

I remember the first class being about the concept of a good citizen which basically boiled down to: If you see something that needs doing, don't wait for someone else to do it, do it yourself or some such.

Back then I was a callow youth.

So was he for that matter.

Ah no the years oh, how the sick leaves reel down in throngs.

I am rather pleased at the synchonicity which has brought me here when he is celebrating the mass.

There is a serenity about him which is also pleasing.

In his youth he was a bit of a controversialist. His Civics class in 1978 quickly moved on from the notion of the good citizen to riper fare, to wit, the role of newspapers in society, and in a few short weeks taught me more about real journalism, specifically the ideological dispositions of newspapers and broadcasters, than the university course I later pursued on that subject.

He went on to edit a newspaper called Alive which was about the only real newspaper in Ireland at one stage.

As his Alive publication reached a circulation of a quarter of a million copies, Independent Newspapers and the Irish Times became so afraid of him at one point that they tried to label him a lunatic right winger in a series of vituperatively manipulative articles.

On foot of this, I humbly suggested that Independent Newspapers should rename themselves Inuendo Newspapers.

At the time I would have bet any money that in truth Independent Newspapers would have hired Brian McKevitt in a second if they could have persuaded him to take their shilling.

Because with no resources he was achieving higher readerships than they were achieving with billion dollar borrowings from idiot banks which they later defaulted on.

But I digress.

Presently the service ends, the church empties out and I am alone.

I kneel on the flagstones abandoning myself to the real presence.

During a soulful moment, I look down.

There is a yellow monographed government notice pasted to the flagstone beneath my knees. It is in the shape of an arrow and indicates what direction the government wants people to perambulate in church during the government induced corona virus panic which apparently isn't over yet. The sign also contains a reminder about staying two metres away from every one else in the church in case you'll catch the imaginary flu virus which they insist has been going around.

Well I'm not going to kneel to this.

I've been a bit shirty about what I regard as an inappropriate symbiosis between the Catholic church and government and health boards during the government and health boards' staged pandemic shenanigans which has allowed government and health boards to intrude into our holy places (and our lives) in this sovietesque way.

What would a good citizen do?

It is the work of a moment to peel the mongraphed arrow off the flag stone and pocket it. (The arrow not the flag stone.)

Then I stand up.

For the first time I realise that there are about a hundred similar arrows pasted to the floor throughout the church along with another twenty larger circular notices pasted at intermittent intervals in the same way blazoning more details of the neurotic procedures and behaviours our governments are seeking to foist on the citizenry using public health policy as a justification and the beautiful, ancient and true Catholic church as a cloak for their charades.

"Well, well, well," I breathe, "every melody begins with a single note."

pope wick chapter two

The Pope is in his office. Enter stage left Doctor Alberto Gasparri who is the Pope's travelling secretary.

 

Pope Francis: "What have you got for me today Clytus?"

Dr Gasparri: (With a little sigh at the use of the nickname) "A reception Holiness, for a famous female Chinese pianist in the State rooms."

Pope Francis: "Pianist?"

Dr Gasparri: "Pianist."

Pope Francis: "How can she be female if she's got a pianist? Ha, ha. And how should I receive her? Lots of charming phallus jokes?"

Dr Gasparri: "I think that would be unwise Holiness. Just play it straight. Express Papal approval of pianos generally. Strong appreciation for Chinese pianos in particular. Whatever you do, don't say pianist. Some mentions of China's great civilisation perhaps. Contribution to humanity. Continuity of culture. Blah, blah, blah."

Pope Francis: "Anything to distract from the trial of Claudia Cardinale and the Uyghurs, eh?"

Dr Gasparri: "Precisely Holiness. Although the man's name is Cardinal Zen not Claudia Cardinale."

Pope Francis: "Details, details, Clytus. The last time you set up one of these things, there was some sort of contre temps, was there not?"

Dr Gasparri: "A small misunderstanding Holiness. Hardly a contre temps. When the great Chinese cellist Yo Yo Ma told you his name, you thought he was insulting your mother and you tried to throttle him."

Pope Francis: "He was wiry, that Yo Yo Ma. He didn't look like much but he was deceptively strong. Much tougher than he looks."

Dr Gasparri: "Yes Holiness. The Ma's are a notoriously tough bunch of classical musicians."

Pope Francis: "So who is this fabulous Chinese bird that I'm meeting today?"

Dr Gasparri: "Her name is Yu Ja Wang."

Pope Francis: "Yu Ja Wang... Yu... Ja... Wang... Oh come on. That's huge wang. You're having a larf."

Dr Gasparri: "No Holiness. That's really her name."

Pope Francis: "Good looking girl is she?"

Dr Gaspari: "Let me this way put it. When you see her, you'll be the one with the Yu Ja Wang."

Pope Francis: "So when's the reception?"

Dr Gasparri: "After lunch Holiness."

Pope Francis: "Right so we've time to finish dealing with Flash Gordon and Zarkov before then. Oh. And that Dale Arden bim, what have you done with her?"

Dr Gasparri: "She's in the cells."

Pope Francis: "Excellent. Take her to the royal chambers. Prepare her for our pleasure."

Dr Gasparri: "Yes Holiness."

Pope Francis: "Oh and warm up the Neurotic Death ray for the rest of the planet. I'll give them ****ing climate change and an imaginary flu pandemic they'll never forget."

Dr Gasparri: "At once Holiness."

Exeunt Dr Gasparri and the Pap. Chanting of College of Cardinals minus Cardinal Zen is heard from off stage.

College of Cardinals: "Hail Ming. Hail Ming."

Enter Brian Blessed alone with a taper.

Brian Blessed: (musingly) "Heeler's alive... alive... alive..."