Paul Carr's China Diary

---

Thank you for your support, "Mothed Out".

I read a very good essay by Noam Chomsky.

Here:

http://www.chomsky.info/articles/20090521.htm

He writes,

"As long as such "exceptionalist" theses remain firmly implanted, the
occasional revelations of the "abuse of history" can backfire, serving to
efface terrible crimes. The My Lai massacre was a mere footnote to the
vastly greater atrocities of the post-Tet pacification programs, ignored
while indignation focused on this single crime. Watergate was doubtless
criminal, but the furor over it displaced incomparably worse crimes at home
and abroad -- the FBI-organized assassination of black organizer Fred
Hampton as part of the infamous COINTELPRO repression, or the bombing of
Cambodia, to mention two egregious examples. Torture is hideous enough; the
invasion of Iraq is a far worse crime. Quite commonly, selective atrocities
have this function. "

When the MyLai massacre became public knowledge in the USA at the end of
1969, when the photos surfaced of innocent men, women and children who were
killed or were about to be killed by US troops,

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Womanandchildren.jpg

there was understandable outrage amongst the US public.

Yet, despite this outrage, other atrocities were being undertaken at the
same time such as the US bombing of Cambodia.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Menu

 which killed anywhere between 100,000 and 600,000 people and doubtless
paved the way for the rise of Pol Pot a little later on.  Cambodians are
human beings too but where was the outrage?  And the murder of Civil Rights
Activist and US Citizen, Fred Hampton, with the involvement of the FBI.
Where was the outrage for that?

We have the expression in English, "You can't see the forest for the trees".
Let's turn back to Ireland.

What happened in the Industrial schools in Ireland was outdoubtedly horrid.
But what happened there was a symptom of an underlying problem that is still
not being discussed in Ireland, as far as I can tell, namely the phenomenum
of endemic violence in Irish society, not just sexual and physical abuse of
children by priests in Industrial Schools and elsewhere, but violence in
many many homes in Ireland without the direct involvement of bishops or
priests.  There is still endemic violence, I believe,  in many families in
Ireland.  Domestic violence, as far as I can tell, is still kinda a taboo
topic of discussion in Irish public and political discourse. Of course, it's
taboo.  If it weren't, Ireland wouldn't be such a damn conservative country.
Domestic violence is another symptom of the underlying problem of endemic
violence in irish society.  But, we focus in our public and political
discourse in Ireland chiefly on one symptom, sexual and physical abuse of
children by priests and other "religious people" in Industrial Schools and
elsewhere but we ignore other symptoms and, crucially, we ignore the cause.

We contemplate the tree of violence inflicted by priests on helpless
children in industrial schools, expressing justifiable outrage over that,
but we ignore the wide forest of endemic violence, including domestic
violence amongst "the laity", in our society.

I think one or two of you on this newsgroup have already stated that the
victims of sexual and physical abuse in Industrial schools have received the
short end of the stick.  This is not surprising in a society where the
discussion is limited to one symptom, ignoring other symptoms and,
crucially, ignoring the cause.

And, it was the same with the Mylai massacre.  When, the news broke in 1969,
there was public outrage. But, discussion was limited to that particular
horrid event.  There was no discussion on the possibility of other and
bigger MyLais in other parts of Vietnam.  There was no discussion on the US
terror bombing of Cambodian civilians which was kept "covert". There was no
discussion on government agents assassinating one of its own citizens.
There was no discussion on the fundamental nature of the US Empire or,
indeed, on the nature of any Empire.  And, what happened with Mylai?  Was
justice served?

From: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/My_Lai_Massacre

"While 26 US soldiers were initially charged with criminal offenses for
their actions at My Lai, only William Calley was convicted. He served three
years of his life sentence."  A day after his sentence he was ordered
transferred by President Nixon from prison to house arrest.

Certainly, if I knew about helplines back when I was 12 or 13 years old when
the bullying against me at my school had started, I could very well have
picked up the phone and called someone.  But, St. Catherine's Vocational
School, as bad as it was, was no Industrial School.  It wasn't that bad.  It
was a mixed school, boys and girls studying together, which, I think blunted
the barbarism of the teachers against the students and also undermined
inter-student violence.  My self-confidence collapsed in my first year at
St. Catherine's Vocational School and, certainly,  a big reason was because
I was being bullied by new students who had been bussed in at the start of
my first year from places like Fintra and Bruckless.  But, I think it would
have taken a little bit more than just some bullying, as bad as it was, by
students to trigger a complete collapse in my self-confidence around this
time.  Fact is, there was also domestic strife in my home.  My father was
unemployed (one reason being he had had a medical operation a few years
previously and was recovering from it) and my mother was forced around this
time to return to the workforce as a nurse.  She was a nurse in Altnagelvin
hospital in Derry in the late 1960s before she met my Dad.  There was
domestic strife.  A taboo issue of public discussion even today in Irish
society I think.  My mother and father engaged in blazing quarrels around
this time, 1985 and 1986.  My mother wanted my Dad to get a job.  But, in
fairness to my dad, times were tough and it was difficult for him to find a
job.  He was one of those eminently overqualified guys.  So my psychological
wall of defense against the bullies was being undermined at home as well.
The bullies breached the wall during my first year in 1986/87 and continued
to mind fuck me right up to my liberation from secondary school in 1991.
Yes, I remember the genuine emotional tears I shed, even in school in front
of other students and teachers, in 1986/87  as I began my descent into my
psychological prison.  I was still human then and could still be saved.
Those tears I shed turned out to be tears of goodbye to my humanity.  And,
yes, maybe then, I could have rang a helpline if I knew of one.  I was
desperate for a solution.  But, a little later on, say 1988/89, it was too
late.  I don't think I could shed any heartfelt genuine tears about anything
by 1989.  By then, I wouldn't have been motivated to ring a helpline even if
one was available  I was apathetic, a zombie, indifferent to many
circumstances around me and psychologically walled in by impotent anger.

And, finally, let us not forget.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Womanandchildren.jpg

Paul Carr

---

Alright.  I wrote before that if there were 5 votes on SCI, I would name
these misbehaving teachers.  I've now decided to change the rules.  One vote
will do.

Anyway, the school I went to between 1986 and 1991 was St. Catherine's
Vocational School.

I found this website here for the school.

http://homepage.eircom.net/~stcatherinesvs/

It doesn't appear to have been updated since 2000 however.

Man, I wore the exact same uniform.

http://homepage.eircom.net/~stcatherinesvs/Images/DeclanMcFaddensmall.jpg

The Principal of the school was a man called Joe Ward.  He was appointed
Principal in 1974.  And, he was the Principal when I went to the school.

Anyway, I found this website where the teachers of the school are evaluated
by the students and also perhaps by past-students.

Here is a list of teachers in St. Catherine's Vocational School.  It's not
clear whether these are all present teachers or if some of them are retired
now.

http://ie.ratemyteachers.com/schools/ireland/killybegs/st_catherine%2527s_vocational_school

Anyway, 4 names sprung out.

One was the science teacher I told you about.  He ear-wigged me one time.
His name is John Joe O'Shea.

Here are his ratings by the students.

http://ie.ratemyteachers.com/schools/ireland/killybegs/st_catherine%2527s_vocational_school/john_joseph__o%2527_shea

A mixed bag, as you can see. 2.4 overall quality. 5 is max and 1 is minimum
score.

I select some of the reviews.

"he does not have a clue.lovely man but cant teach biology atall.keeps me
smiling through the class but you need more than that to get a good grade in
the leavin "
"This man would turn albert einstein off science! he makes it all sound so
boring when science should be the most interesting and hands on subject to
do!  "
"Did this man speak english. told us all we would fail, didnt. never tried
to teach only into sports not science."
"The guy who thought the green house effect would cure the hole in the ozone
layer, has no crowd control, surprised any passed biology. "

Yup, that was John Joe O'Shea, the Gaelgeoir from Kerry.  Big into the GAA
but when it came to teaching science and biology he was found wanting.

Lets move onto Joe Ward now, the Principal.

http://ie.ratemyteachers.com/schools/ireland/killybegs/st_catherine%2527s_vocational_school/joe__ward

 It appears the guy is still the Principal, at least up to 2007 anyway. Here
there are no surprises.  Very poor reviews.  His overall rating is 1.6.  One
of the lowest ratings of all the teachers.

I select some of the reviews.

"Somewhat of a gormless, Montgomery Burns type figureMr. Ward does not mix
much with his subjects (students), this guy is too uncool for school!"
 "Cold, unapproachable, has an obvious distaste for his students. The mind
boggles at why he is a teacher at all. Very grey. Almost John Major like. "
"terrible principle.hasnt a clue.really unhelpfull and horrible to talk
to.he hates students so dont know why hes in the job hes in.puts u in a bad
mood."
"he is terrible and should be fired. doesnt have a clue whats goin on.
gettin paid to do nothing. "
"No fun, no credibility, no character, nothing of note except the height and
the attitute"

I'll get onto him in a moment but first I want to get  that damn geography
teacher out of the way.

His name is Frank McGee.

His page is here:

http://ie.ratemyteachers.com/schools/ireland/killybegs/st_catherine%2527s_vocational_school/frank__mc_ghee

And what really surprised me is that he had amongst the best reviews of all
the teachers.  His overall rating is 4.7.

This was the guy who arbitrarily ear-wigged me one day because I had the
misfortune to be waiting for my next class outside his classroom and I
spotted him, (through no fault of my own) through the window of the door
ear-wigging other students or maybe shouting at students inside his
classroom.  Ah, time wears down memories.  But, anyway.

Here are a selection of his reviews.

"Professional at his job. Honest and fair. a great man. should have been
principle!! Never to be forgotten...... always has time for his past
students..... "
"Should be the principal. Can be scary but is fair. Helps those who need it
but wont take any dossin. Good and sound!"
"Excellent teacher, he made goegraphy really interesting and was excellent.
Also lovely man helped me through a really tough time.Thanks!"
"Great guy, was a laugh, and knew how to keep order, the red face thing is
true and you could hear if someone had got into trouble with him from a mile
away."
"great geog teacher and great v.principal, unlike his counterpart. run if
his face goes red, or at least cover your ears "
 "Fantastic. Very fair understands students needs. Should have been made
principle years ago, it would be a much better school if he was in charge.
"
"Firm but fair best describes him.Great geography teacher would make an
excellent principal and knows a bit about the GAA! "
"Strict but fair. No B.S. Was always very helpful and showed a genuine
interest in his pupils. Legend "

Some faint references are made to his temper.  But, on the whole, the
reviews are glorious.

I also want to summarize Gerry Rodgers.  He was my history teacher as I
recall back in the late 80s and early 90s.  He's a Gaelgeoir.  And, as
already written, I really liked him.  And, that is also reflected in his
ratings.  His overall rating is 4.2.

http://ie.ratemyteachers.com/schools/ireland/killybegs/st_catherine%2527s_vocational_school/gerry__rodgers

Here are a selection of his reviews.
"brilliant teacher, would not be in college only for him. has a great
influence and well respected. made history enjoyable, and knows a thing or
two about soccer"
"very good teacher, makes you realise you need to think for yourself rather
than just learn it all and not understand it. You felt like he cared how you
got on."
"love gerry.excellent history teacher.dedicated to what he does and this
pays off on us students.tries to make it as easy as he can and cares so much
about us. "
"Really good history teacher. Knew his subject well. Cared about his
students. Played football with him in the mid '80. Bit of a Sami Hyppia
about him. "
"Class. Best teacher in the place. Made it all so easy and he even took time
to humour the messers.Most interesting and funniest classes ever"

I find it interesting the use of the word "care".  That was Gerry Rodgers.
A fine human being.  Great teacher.  He cared about his students.

Whoo!! I'm glad I got all that tedium out of the way.  :-D.  Anyway, where
was I?

Okay, maybe, Frank McGee has reformed since the time I was "taught" by him.
I should be generous and open-minded.  Maybe, he has indeed learned that
ear-wigging is entirely unacceptable  and uncivilized behaviour.  Maybe.  I
recall visiting this ratemyteachers website around 2001 and there were a
number of critical remarks made about Frank McGee.  I recall the statement
made then about Frank McGee "teaching" in his geography class that there
were no blue eyed people in Italy for example.  Apparently, there are no
reviews before 2005 on this present website which is a mystery.  I mean I
recall visiting this website in 2001 and reading reviews then of these same
teachers..  Interesting how if some reviewer doesn't comment, he/she often
just gives Frank McGee a brace of 5s (top marks) and interesting how the
opposite holds true for Joe Ward.  If someone doesn't comment on him, he/she
often just gives Joe Ward a brace of 1s (bottom marks).

However, I think there may be another reason why Frank McGee gets such a
high rating.  You gotta understand the psychology of Donegal.  The Republic
of Ireland is to Western Europe what West Virginia or the Ozarks are to the
USA.  It's conservative.  And, Donegal is to the Republic of Ireland what
the Republic of Ireland is to Western Europe.  Donegal is a conservative
bastion within a conservative country.  Historically, in Dublin, if you're
unhappy with the established political parties of Fine Gael or Fianna Fail,
often you give your votes to socialist parties or social democratic parties
or the Greens or some progressive independents with sometimes socialistic
tendencies.  Historically, in Limerick, if you're unhappy with the
established political parties of Fine Gael or Fianna Fail, you give your
vote to the PDs.  In Donegal..... In Donegal, historically, if you're
unhappy with the established political parties of Fine Gael and Fianna Fail,
you give your vote to... wait for it... [drums rolling] Independent Fianna
Fail!!  You know, I just don't get it.  Donegal, I think, along with
Leitrim, are the poorest counties in the country. Their per capita GDP are,
I think, the lowest in the country.  One would think that the people there
would vote for candidates who would favour more investment in the people and
resources there, perhaps higher taxes at a national level to pay for it.
Okay, yes, a little bit of socialism.  But, no.  We just vote for more
hard-liner Nationalists instead. And, in referenda, we vote more
emphatically against divorce, against a woman's right to choose and against
the Nice and Lisbon treaties, more emphatically than any other area of the
country with some room to spare.  I also think more of us, by a margin, stay
home and don't bother to vote compared to the rest of the country.  Apathy
has always been a friend of conservatism, in Ireland, as anywhere else.  I
mean, honestly, what was the difference between Independent Fianna Fail and
Fianna Fail?  Was the schlong of an Independent Fianna Failer a few inches
longer?  Did the schlong of an Independent Fianna Failer extend down to the
knee for example?  Did an Independent Fianna Failer drink 6 pints of
Guinness a day on average whereas the average Fianna Failer could only
manage 4?  Well, that was Donegal North-East, a barren land.  But, Donegal
South-West was little better.  Remember Thomas Gildea?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Gildea

He got elected a TD for Donegal South-West.  He campaigned on a single issue
of legalizing "deflectors".  But, when it came to other issues, it turned
out he couldn't rub two brain cells together.  In Dail Eireann, I think he
had the worst speaking record of any TD between 1997 and 2002.  Thankfully,
he didn't run again.

Someone here on SCI  a few days ago posted a link for the film "1984"
presented in 11 parts on youtube.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7Kznmrc3o4&feature=PlayList&p=E4948E22B36574CA&index=0
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nineteen_Eighty-Four_(film)

Great movie based on a great novel by George Orwell..  John Hurt (great
actor) played Winston Smith.  Richard Burton (his last film role and a great
actor) played O'Brien.  Winston, a member of the outer party, is caught by
the authorities engaging in the crime of lust and sex and so he is tortured
and brainwashed of any remaining dissent by O'Brien, a member of the inner
party. And, even while O'Brien tortures him in the "Ministry of Love" and
drills into him that 2+2 is indeed 5 (or 3 or some other number), Winston
Smith tells O'Brien, "I love you.".  O'Brien teaches Winston through torture
and dehumanization and humiliation that he must not only obey Big Brother
but he must also love him.  In the totalitarian state presented in 1984, the
meanings of words are turned on their head. The Ministry of Love is
responsible for torture.  The Ministry of Truth is responsible for spreading
lies and propaganda.  The Ministy of Plenty is in charge of issuing ration
books.  The Ministry of Peace deals with war.  Let's take another look at
Donegal.  The county is so conservative, so "out-there", so spiritually
hopeless, that the people there have to resort to turning things on their
head and imagine that up is indeed down and down is up.  A conservative
becomes a Liberal in the fantasyworld of a Donegal man or woman..  The more
conservative he is the more liberal he appears in the mind's eye.  Returning
back to Frank McGee.  It's possible he hasn't reformed but the students of
that school have decided to transform his bad quality, namely wanton,
unprovoked, unjustified and unjustifiable violence against helpless
students, into a good quality - "scary but fair", "can keep order", "strict
but fair" and so on.  By the way, I don't recall him ever ear-wigging older
4th or 5th year students or girls which, to my mind, makes his behaviour all
the more cowardly.

But, I want to move on now to Joe Ward.  Frank McGee, as I recall, was kinda
the vice-Principal back during the time I was at that school from 1986 to
1991.  Joe Ward was the Principal and apparently he may still be the
Principal!! Man, how things never change!!.  To my mind, the success or
failure of a school rests to a large extent on the Principal, on the
decisions he/she makes.  After all, the Principal doesn't, as a rule, teach
the students directly.  He/she has office work to do. His time is freed up
to improve the teaching environment of the school, to set realistic
objectives for the school. Now, Joe Ward didn't ear-wig me.  That was Frank
McGee and John Joe O'Shea, the Gaelgeoirs.  But, Joe Ward was remote and
distant and I think you can also pick that up in the reviews that you read
above.  A Montgomery Burns type figure.  Yup, that's Joe Ward.  Maybe, not
that extreme but getting there. HeHe.

Okay, now it's time for me to vent some spleen.  As already written, during
my time in that school from 1986 to 1991, I was bullied by my fellow
students.  I can give you some of the first names of these bullies.  Enda,
Geoffrey, Trevor.  All shites.  As written, I used to stand  and wait
outside the woodwork classroom in the morning and get teased and harangued
and hit by these guys.  I couldn't avoid them.  That was one time when I
couldn't avoid them.  I had to be in class on time.  Other times, I tried to
avoid them.  I expended my mental energy during those years trying to avoid
bullies. I also calibrated it so that I avoided them but I didn't want to be
too conspicious in doing so.  It might provoke the bullies to bully me more.
That, in turn, means expending more mental energy. So, instead of being
social, which would have been the healthy thing for adolescent boys, I
became anti-social because I wanted to avoid the bullies.  Bear in mind, St.
Catherine's Vocational School was a mixed school!!  Boys and girls were
taught together.  And, undoubtedly, that was a good thing.  For example, it
blunted the barbarism of the teachers.  I think it also blunted some of the
inter-student violence too.  I first went to that school, I think, in 1986,
if I recall correctly.  I was 12, just hitting puberty.  I think boys hit
puberty around that age.  Anyway, for the purposes of this essay, let's just
say boys hit puberty around 12 years old.  Girls a little earlier.

But, during my years in St. Catherine's Vocational School, I wasn't
interested in girls.  I believe I am a heterosexual man.  At any rate, using
Alfred Kinsey's scale, I think I'm about about 70% heterosexual and 30%
homosexual which I think is about usual for a man or a woman.  I wasn't
interested in girls because I was being intensely bullied.  Believe me,
there were plenty of gorgeous gals there.  But, my brain, during those
years, was not wired to enjoy life, it was wired to survive life.  Many
people say that secondary/middle/high school is often amongst the happiest
time of their lives along with college/university which follows (for some).
Not for me.  Secondary school was an ordeal for me.  You know how people say
"you live on the streets".  Well, I was living on the streets within the
confines of school walls, if  you follow my meaning.  My brain was
configured in survival mode, not enjoyment mode.  Undoubtedly, human beings,
under normal conditions, are social creatures and also sexual creatures.
But, during those years from 1986 to 1991, I was anti-social, you know,
non-social.  I wanted to avoid the bullies as much as I could (without being
too conspicious about it).  Under normal conditions, an adolescent would
socialize, take an interest in the opposite sex if they were that way
inclined.  Under normal conditions, an adolescent would spend some energy, a
great deal of energy in socializing, kissing, snogging, petting, having sex
(for some).  But, me, that all passed me by.

There was a lunch-break, I think, from 12:45 to 1:45 in my school.  I used
to consider detention a blessing. One would get detention if one were late
for school in the morning for example. It meant that the bullies would leave
the school first to go into town (downtown Killybegs was 5 minutes walk
away) so that when I was released from detention around 1 o'clock, I could
walk without fear back to my mother's and father's home (which was on the
other side of town) without worrying too much about meeting those shites.
They would already be in a local cafe/restaurant having their lunch.

But, yeah, I do remember there were some occasions where these bullies did
attack me, in broad daylight, during lunch time, in the middle of Killybegs
town, FOR NO REASON.  Yeah, there was Enda and Geoffrey and I think another
guy.  And, then there was Trevor, a big cowardly guy, but he tended to hang
around with another boy.

You know the film, "The Shawshank Redemption"?  Remember "The Sisters" from
that film?  Yup, "The Sisters" remind me of Enda, Geoffrey and Trevor.
Remember that dialogue between Red (played by Morgan Freeman (great actor)
and Andy Dufresne played by Tim Robbins (great actor)..

From: http://www.angelfire.com/movies/moviefreak/shawshank.html

    RED
Word gets around. The Sisters have
taken a real shine to you. Especially Bogs.

    ANDY
Would it help if
I explained to them I'm not
homosexual?

    RED
Neither are they. You have to be
human first. They don't qualify.
      (off Andy's look)
Bull queers take by force, that's
all they want or understand. If I were you, I'd
grow eyes in the back of my head.

Recently, I was reading a very good book
which I recommend anyone to read.  It's called "Open Veins of Latin America"
by Eduardo Galleano.  I read the English language version, of course. This
was the book, Hugo Chavez, the President of Venezeula, gave Barack Obama
recently as a gift to read.  I noticed though that Hugo Chavez gave Barack
Obama a Spanish language copy.  Probably not a good idea as I don't think
Barack Obama reads Spanish.  I could be wrong.  But, anyway.  Great book.
And, in this book, among many other things, Eduardo Galleano writes about
the terror of the Argentine dictatorship of the late 1970s under General
Videla.  Under his regime, thousands (probably a conservative number) of
"union members" were "disappeared" i.e. murdered and their bodies then
thrown into the ocean so that their bodies could never be retrieved..  But,
in addition to these union members, sometimes, the military just disappeared
totally innocent people, not even union members, from poor neighbourhoods in
order to send a message of terror to the populace, a message of "not even if
you keep your head down, are you safe".  Anyone below a certain income
scale, could be bagged and thrown into the Atlantic ocean.  So, the bullies
who bullied me were kinda like that.  They just lashed out at me for no
reason.

Now, I admit, I did have (and probably still do have) a lot in common with
the bullies.  Whilst I didn't bully, at least not at school, (I just wanted
to be left alone by everyone), I had a similar attitude to the bullies, a
similar mindset, a stupid childish idiotic mindset.  We were shites, all of
us, and we behaved accordingly.

Hmm, what next to write about?  Have any of you gone this far? :-D HeHe

When I was 11 years old, I was actually quite a self-confident young guy.
Sure, I had problems, what kid didn't?  But, I recall when I was 11, I
organized a football match on the local football pitch in Killybegs. I was
too self-confident to be bullied.  3 years later, I didn't even have the
self-confidence to go "down the town" to buy a postage stamp.  The bullying
I was experiencing at school and, more to the point,  the resulting
self-defense survival mindset I had adopted as a result had stripped me of
my self-confidence.  I think the damage was done, most of it, the vast
majority of it, when I was about 12, during my first year in Secondary
school   The following 4 + years were really just the denouement.  The
damage was done when I was about 12.  I could give you some standard
scatological reason as to why I suddenly and precipitously lost my
self-confidence.  But, I don't think it was that simple.  Naturally, years
later, I'm trying to rationalize what went on, what happened, what the f*^k
happened.  And, I have developed a theory (which may be subject to change in
the future).

I went to the Niall Mor Primary School in Killybegs before going onto St.
Catherine's Vocational School also located in Killybegs.  In Niall Mor, the
students only lived in Killybegs and its very immediate environs.  But, when
I went to St. Catherine's Vocational School, new students were bussed in
from surrounding areas, such as Bruckless and Dunkineely to the East and
Fintragh to the West.  And, that's when I got to meet for the first time the
eejits, Trevor, Enda and Geoffrey (and others whose names I forget and
didn't want to remember). [sighs].  They were bussed in from surrounding
areas.

In a previous post, maybe, I may have come across as being a little too
harsh on my Dad.  I will say, in my Dad's defense, when I was around 13,
when the bullying was beginning, during my first or second year in the
school, I turned to my Dad for help.  My Dad went to the school and walked
in, to his credit.  I even saw him walk in the front door of the school
during the lunch break when the students were outside the classes and he
went to talk to that BASTARD, Joe Ward, and the other fecking teachers in
the teachers' room.  So, the Principal, Joe Ward, knew I was being bullied
by other students.  But, like your typical Fine Gael opposition, he was long
on words and short on action.  I recall, shortly afterwards, he walked into
the Library where we had a class and he gave us all a speech about how
bullying was despicable behaviour and that he wouldn't tolerate it
and...then, after that, that was exactly what he did tolerate.  He did
nothing.  At least, nothing of consequence I could feel.  I continued to be
bullied.  And, even if I wasn't bullied, I was imprisoned in my mind, in
this self-defense mechanism I had set up in my brain to defend myself from
real or imagined bullying both physical and verbal that I had experienced
and was continuing to experience.

Regarding the ear-wigging malfeasance by Messrs McGee and John Joe O'Shea, I
honestly don't know if Joe Ward talked to them about their dysfunctional and
barbaric behaviour.  He had to have known about it.  Now, it's possible he
did have a private word with Mr McGee about it.  And, I imagine that Mr
McGee's response would have been along these lines:  "F&^k off, ye West-Brit
ye. I can do what I like in my class (or outside of it)."  I would imagine
that Mr McGee would have followed this up with some Gaeilge gobblygook (a
torrent of curses if translated) to further confuse and bewilder Mr Ward.
And, then, nothing.  Yup, the story of post 1922 Ireland.  You see, Mr Ward
had a flaw.  No Gaelgeoir was he.. I don't recall him ever speaking the
Irish language.

Honestly, St. Catherine's Vocational School was a really low-performing
school.  Bear in mind, Killybegs was and is a fishing town..  You can smell
it before you can see it.  My mother moved out of Killybegs around 2000 and
even between 1995 and 2000, I barely visited Killybegs once or twice a year.
Gawd, I hated the place. From what I read on wikipedia, the smell has gotten
even worse.  Apparently, the smell of processed fish can be smelt as far
away as Sligo!!. HeHe.  Sad to learn, that Joe Ward apparently is still in
charge.  From what I see, its website hasn't been updated since 2000.  I
wonder if the school is as shite as it was when I was there.  With Joe Ward
possibly still in charge, I'm concerned that it hasn't really improved.

Okay, I'm not going to categorically state that there is this national
conspiracy or that there is a system in place and that there are certain
"in" secondary schools and certain "out" secondary schools and, if you go to
one of the "out" secondary schools, in the Republic of Ireland, then you're
screwed and you won't have a chance of going to Trinity College or the
National University of Ireland later on and becoming a doctor or a certified
accountant et cetera et cetera.  I recall there was this very talented young
lady in our school, about two years behind me, who was probably going to get
a clutch of As in Higher Level subjects in her Leaving Cert.  My particular
year was very very bad.  I think there was only 7 students or so who went
onto third-level colleges.  Maybe, a few more than 7.  And, there was only 1
who finally went to university, to the best of my knowledge, and who
graduated from a university.  Me.  That's out of maybe 60 students in my
year.  I can't remember the exact number.

Most of the boys and girls who went to St. Catherine's Vocational School
were from Killybegs.  Their fathers were fishermen or who worked in the many
fish-processing factories in the town.  The school was like a detention
centre for most of these students. It was like a holding centre for the
students and after they did their Leaving Cert, it was expected that the
great majority of them would, you know, settle back into a life of fish,
whether that be working in fish processing factories or hiring themselves
out as fishermen on the boats. You know, I can imagine that the charter of
St. Catherine's Vocational School would read something like:."Go Forth ye
students to the fish factories and gut ye some fish.  In the name of the
Father, The Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen." HeHe.  There was no academic
pursuit.  There were no meaningful debates.  Collective, class-based or
year-based projects, as I recall, whatever they were, were conducted
half-heartedly and lazily.

Now, I'm sure there were other students in my school, in my class!!, who suffered almost in silence bullying from other students and the teachers.  But, we all suffered in isolation.  You have the expression, "United We Stand, Divided We Fall."  The U.S. Union Leader, A. Philip Randolph, talked about the need for organization.  You need organization to take and get something from the banquet table of nature.  Atomization serves the interests of the powerful. If one person complains, the authorities can listen and nod their heads and then they hope the problem goes away.  But, if there are several complainants, and they know who each other is, then that's big trouble for the authorities.  Then, really, they have to get off their arses.  I simply didn't know for sure who those other boys and girls who suffered were.  I had become so unsocial during my years in secondary school, I didn't even know the names of all the students in my class!  I had become a pawn to the abuse and a participant in it, in the sense, that I was inactive to stop it.  No doubt there were other parents too who complained to the Principal of the school but there was no sense of solidarity between the victims and the victims' parents because none of us knew for sure who the other victims were.  We were kept divided and conquered and prone and frightened. Yeah, that was St. Catherine's Vocational School.  You weren't trained to become an engaged citizen in the country.  You were trained to become a disengaged citizen in the country.  You were taught alienation.  You were taught not to care about the plight of others.  You were taught to turn a deaf ear.  For some of us, we were taught to be shites.  We were taught emotional and moral poverty.  We were taught not to think for ourselves.  We were taught that others always knew better and we should know our place and not complain.  We were taught not to participate as active citizens in society.  We were taught that we were powerless pawns of the powerful and we were getting above our station if we sought to change things.  Yup, St. Catherine's Vocational School really pumped indoctrination into me.  As written before, it was like living on the streets within the confines of a school building.

Occasionally, the knowledge we were taught in school came in useful.  For example, between 1994 and 1997, I was a student in the University of Ulster at Coleraine in Northern Ireland.  I studied media studies and theatre studies there. There is a train station (well, a hut I suppose would better describe it) beside the campus where you can catch a train either to the seaside resort town of Portrush, where I lived, or Coleraine (from whence you could get another train to any destination in Northern Ireland).  I remember one night I was waiting by myself for the train to take me back to Portrush (a real beautiful seaside town, by the way.  Well worth a visit)..  In the distance, I heard this guy's faint voice.  He was singing loyalist songs, "Hate all the Taigs" and "Kill all the taigs" songs.  The voice got louder as he approached.  He didn't see me at first.  He arrived at the station and turned into the little hut which protected us from the rain and then he saw me there.  Funnily enough, I wasn't really scared.  I just casually looked at him for 2 seconds kinda disinterestedly and expressionlessly and then I turned away and look over the tracks, as if disengaged and indifferent.  That way, my Protestant colleague picked up code that I was indeed a Protestant. (I'm of Catholic background, for the record. HeHe).  He looked at me at first, humming his Loyalist Supremacy song, then he sat down in the hut to wait for the train like me, a few metres from me.  After a few seconds, he also shut the f&%k up.  Now, if I had panicked, if I had sought to leave the station at that moment, (the only way to exit was the way he had arrived), he could very well have attacked me.  But, I didn't do that.  I was too calm.  You see, St. Catherine's Vocational School among its many valuable lessons it taught me, it taught me terror and to be calm and indifferent in the face of it.  Yeah, indeed, I grew up "on the streets" within the confines of a school building.

When I left St. Catherine's Vocational School in 1991, I still had a lot of residual rage.  One of the bullies I mentioned before was Trevor, a big guy.  I remember once, perhaps only months after I "graduated"/was liberated  from school, leaving my house in Killybegs, in a rage, with the intention of going to the local bar where I knew Trevor hung out in order to clobber him, to lay my fists into him.  There was no other reason why I left the house on that particular occasion. Fortunately for Trevor (and for me I suppose), Trevor wasn't in the bar at the time and I calmed down.  Yup, I was part of this diabolical system.

Oh and what a diabolical system of mind-control it was that I was subject to!!  I remember when I was about 13 years old, walking home one day, by myself from school, around 3:30 or 4 o'clock when the school finished.  Suddenly, about 20 to 30 students surrounded me, shouting and hollering.  They were pushing me and screaming and laughing.  They weren't friendly.  I didn't get an opportunity to talk back to enquire what this was all about.  And most of them, I didn't even know who they were - they were from different classes.  What diabolical force of social control is this??!!

Okay, I'd like to get on to my father and then I'll lay into the Catholic church before closing this essay.

My father's violence against his family, I think, was actually only over a short period of time, say, 1989 to early 1991.  I don't remember the time scale for sure.  I don't recall him earlier in the 80s being violent towards his family.  When he became violent around 1989, I think it was new for him.  As written, my father went to St. Eunan's School/college? in Letterkenny in the late 1940s and early 1950s.  My Dad was pretty convinced that St. Eunan's was not a school to go to.  He was abused there (whether it be physically and/or sexually, I don't know) and he told me that he didn't want to send me there.  So, he sent me to the local school, St. Catherine's Vocational School instead, the School of Fish and Dossers.  The school where the teachers, from Day 1, treat you like a dosser, and then when you accord with their expectations as you inevitably will, some of them will hit you and shake their heads and say, "Oh what a dosser you are!!  I really didn't know you were THIS bad!!".  A school where the teachers were retards.  Yup, my father sent me to that school, convinced in his knowledge that no school could possibly be as bad as St. Eunan's.

Well, it was.  It was torture.  It was hell.  As written, at the beginning my father tried to do something, around the time I was 13 when I had already tumbled down the hill to disintegration and I was living in a comfortable manufactured bubble world/fantasy world my brain had set up as a self-defense mechanism.  He talked with Joe Ward, the Principal.  And Joe Ward did nothing.  He just politely nodded his head, give a speech later to the students about how bad bullying was and teen he went back to the ivory tower of his office.

You know, we, Irish, are passionate movie-goers.  Guys, especially, love the gangster movies.  Me, I loved the early movies of Robert DeNiro.  I could relate to psychopaths and sociopaths like Vito Corleone (played by De Niro in Godfather II in 1974)and Travis Bickle (played by DeNiro in 1975 in TaxiDriver).  Do you remember the scene in the First Godfather movie?  Sony Corleone, played by James Caan (great actor), beats the shit out of Carlo Rizzi, who was married to Sony's sister, because he had beat the shit out of her.  Sony Corleone gives him a good kicking and then, exhausted, his rage spent,  he points his finger at Carlo Rizzi, prone and in pain lying on the pavement and says, "you touch my sister again [pregnant pause]  and I'll kill you.".  Yup, I wish my Dad had done that to Frank McGee.  Give him a good kicking and then say to him as he lay dazed and disoriented on the ground, "You touch my son again, [pregnant pause], and I'll kill you".  Men more so than women, I think, measure love in terms of action not words.  If my Dad had done that to Frank McGee, I would have respected my Dad.  I would have thought, wow, my Dad really knows how to stand up for me, a helpless 13 year old or 14 year old kid, who just wants to study and graduate and go to university.  Unfortunately, that's Ireland.  In the past and possibly still now, we idolize those who break the law, those who fight against the law, those who take the law into their own hands.  This has become integrated into our very self-identity.  My father, like many Irish men, was proud of bending the rules, after all, that damn Government doesn't care for the little people, they just want your damn money.

A few months before he died in November 1991, my Dad was driving us to golf practice in Fintragh (we often did this and my dad often went to Portinoo golf club, near Glenties to play golf and I often caddied for him).  My Dad said to me, in his sweet voice, "Paul, do you love me?".  I replied, "What are you talking about?".  He said, "Paul, I may die in the next few months.".  I told him, "Oh, you're not going to die, don't worry."  As it turned out, he was right and I was wrong.  Yeah, that was my Dad.  It was never his fault.  His Love for his family was never in question and should never be questioned.  If I had talked back to my dad and said, "But, Dad you don't love me so why should I love you?".  My Dad's sweet voice would quickly have given away to temper.  My Dad was the centre of the universe.  His family could never be his equals.  I could never been his equal.  St. Eunan's, to my Dad's mind, was the worst fecking school on the planet because he went there.  St. Catherine's Vocational School could never compare.  I wanted to go to university but my Dad never really reaffirmed my ambition.  As I recall, he was kinda indifferent to what I wanted to do after secondary school.

From 1988 to 1989, my Dad went to Paris, France where his younger brother owned a restaurant.  He worked for his brother in Paris for about a year.  I have no doubt he got out of Ireland because he felt that he wasn't being very helpful to his family.  My life was being destroyed and was destroyed in St. Catherine's Vocational School and he didn't care. Okay, maybe, he did care and maybe this unhappiness brought him to an early grave.  He was only 57 when he died in 1991. He couldn't express his frustation about my troubles because that's not the sort of thing a good Catholic man does.  He'd rather not think about it.  He got out of Ireland.  The master of the house took a well-deserved break.  And, a year later, around 1989, he decided to come back and, before doing so, he had resolved that if that shit, his son, Paul Carr, dared complain about more abuse in St. Catherine's Vocational School against his person, he would clobber him.  And, that was what he did.  And, he hit my mother and my sister as well.  To be honest, regarding my brother, I'm not sure if he was hit, but I think the psychology of violence dictates that all who are in a powerless position in relation to the perpetrator of violence have to be hit.  So, as if the violence from students (after 1986) and the occasional violence of teachers weren't enough, for about a year and a half, I had to contend with some clobbering from my Dad as well, at least, until the start of 1991.

I'm not going to condone what my Dad did to me and other members of my family.  I unequivocably condemn it.  I don't want to give you the impression that he was this guy who enjoyed beating his family like a psychopath in the movies.  There was a measure of "provocation".  My mother would tell him, for example, to get a job and 'he'd start". (Donegal expression meaning lose his temper)  Me, I'd tell him I was getting beaten in school maybe in a provocative way like shouting.  My Dad didn't want to know.  I was a Bad Catholic Boy.  I should have been singing and whistling and playing GAA games and doing horseplay with the boys in the fields and in the locker rooms. HeHe. Yup, my Dad enjoyed some of those beatings he gave me.  He had no plans for returning back to Paris, an exile his ungrateful son had helped force him into.

So, really, we have to get back to the fundamental question.  What happened?  Back in 1985, I was this self-confident young boy, organizing football matches on the local football pitch.  3 years later, I didn't have to self confidence to buy a postage stamp from the local post office.  My view is is that I was screwed one way or the other.  I shouldn't be so hard on myself.  I was like a horse on the race-track and when the fence of puberty reared up before me in 1985/86,  I had to make a jump.  I failed to clear the fence.  It wasn't even close.  The next few years, I continued to pathetically drill against this fence that impeded my progress.  I couldn't cross it.  Interestingly enough, my younger brother, crossed the fence but then he careered off the race-track.  He became an artist. HeHe.

What happened?  Why couldn't I cross the fence?  Why couldn't I enter the verdant pastures beyond of adolescence, of taking an interest in girls, in love, in thinking constructively about my future career?  I'm sorry to say this but I have to lay some of the responsibility for this at the door of my parents.

The Republic of Ireland is a Catholic country.  The percentage of people who are sexually repressed in this country is huge.  If I were to put a number to them, I would say, 30% to 40% of the adult populaton of the Republic of Ireland. I think this percentage would be the highest by far in the OECD.  Both my mother and father were sexually repressed and my mother remains so to this day.   And, it gets worse.  The sexually repressed take a keen interest in the mechanics of power, in the slipstreams of power-politics and how to use these to rise to the top of organizations, especially political organizations.  They are consummate ass-lickers if to lick someone's ass would lead to career advancement a little later on.  So, when we turn to Irish politicians, both national and local, the percentage of the sexual repressed amongst them could be as high as 60%!.  How do I know this?  I know this  because I was sexually repressed myself at least until I was 32 so I believe I have an insight into their mindset.  Are these sexually repressed people zombies?  Yes, they are.  Do they physically and sexually abuse others?  No, they don't but those who do physically and sexually abuse others almost exclusively come from their ranks.  Just like, nowadays, terrorists, at least how we define them "i the West" almost exclusively come from Muslim countries.

I think I may have had this wrong idea about my father for many a year.  I think my brother too had the wrong idea about him.  I had always believed that my father was kinda a goat (had many sexual partners) before he got married to my mother in January 1970.  He was 35 when he got married.  My father was a seaman in his younger days, a communications officer on an oil-tanker or something like that..  He seems to have had many a girlfriend at the various ports where his ship docked.  I saw pictures of him with various pretty girls in photo albums.  And, shortly before  he died, he took me to see one of his "old flames" in Donegal.  But, now I'm thinking, was this all for show?  Now I'm thinking that my Dad, when he finally got married when he was 35, was in fact a virgin.  Sure, like a Good Catholic man, he would have kissed some girls at various ports but nothing further.  Girls may have been left heart-broken by him.  I imagine the port-calls would have been short.  He was a handsome man, I suppose.  He wouldn't have had any problem finding pretty female admirers even after he began to lose his hair.  But, the height of his "naughtiness" would have been a faint embrace and a kiss on the lips.  You know like Frank Sinatra in the movies.  My Dad was a big Frank Sinatra fan.  I'm not saying that he deliberately misled me and my brother.  I'm just saying that over the past week, I've been doing a lot of thinking on this time period of my life and I think it's healthy to question, to reconsider, and maybe to revise assumptions which you had believed to be facts.

Is it the case that my Dad was a sexually repressed man?  I think so.  I think he had the emotional maturity of a 12 year old.  My mother too and she still does.  Sexual Repression cuts across all social groups and both genders.  You'll find the sexually repressed in all social groups.  But, while my Dad was sexually repressed, he was a good Catholic man.

Eamon DeValera made many mistakes.  But, perhaps, his biggest mistake was his decision to put a clause in the Irish Constitution recognising the special position of the Catholic church.  DeValera mistakenly believed that he could compromise with the Pre-Vatican II Catholic church.  The Catholic church believed that its teaching was intrinsic truth whereas DeValera sought to recognise the special position of the Catholic church because it was the belief held by the great majority of the country.  The Pope of the day kept an indignant silence.  Democracy, huh!!  We're right, everyone else is wrong, no discussion.

It took us to 1973 to finally cop on and change the Constitution to remove the special position of the Catholic church.  It took us to 1979 before our Government finally legislated for contraception.  The famous Irish solution to an Irish problem.  Apparently, at the beginning you needed a doctor's prescription to get contraceptives in the chemist before the law was loosened in 1985.  It took us to 1995 before we removed the constitutional ban on divorce.  And, there is no woman's right to choose to have an abortion in this country.  How many women are going abroad "To England" for an abortion?  Thousands?  Just like in the 1990s or the 1980s.  Yes, constitutionally, we can't stop ye now, we can't prevent you from getting ahold of information about abortion services abroad, but the as-if-official message of our Government, of our State, of our People to these women, who are going abroad remains, 'Away with Ye to Perfidious Albion, Ye Fallen Woman Ye.".  Meanwhile, the man who got her pregnant might be considering a lucrative career in Fianna Fail.  Aye, a key to a successful career in Irish politics, a few skeletons in the closet.  Talk about compassion.  The Catholic church talks about compassion but, in Ireland, where our Government enabled the Catholic church to exercise unprecedented power, its message was one of condemnation, moral poverty, sexual repression, sexual abuse and loveless marriages.

After Vatican II, the Catholic church moved in a more ecumenical direction, recognising the validity of other Protestant churches.  Pope John XXIII sought to open a dialogue with other churches but the price he had to pay for this heretical liberalism, the pound of flesh he had to give to the conservative wing was the continuing "ostrich head in the sand" approach to human sexuality and related matters such as abortion and contraception..  On these matters, the Catholic church continues to live in the Dark Ages.

The SaorStat Eireann constitution from 1922 to 1937 was better in the sense that, at least, there was no special position for the Catholic church recognized..  On the other hand, I don't think there was an explicit declaration of the division of church and state.  We should have done that, like the French did.  But, we didn't.  We didn't go the way of the French.  It never entered our consciousness to do that.  Why, the Catholic church were our heroes during the centuries of British oppression.  We turned to our priests and bishops for guidance and leadership and for our very identity. As we lost our language, at least, we held close to our bosom our Catholic ritual.  Naturally, soon after independence, we'd give them the keys to the front door.

I think DeValera's recognition, in the Irish Constitution of 1937 (a constitution we still have with a few amendments) of the special position of the Catholic church in the Irish state was very significant and very injurious to the social and mental well-being of the country in the second half of the 20th century.  Catholic priests are supposed to be celebate and still are supposed to be.  But, because De Valera gave the Catholic church explicit recognition in the constitution of 1937, it was as if the whole population now of the Republic of Ireland had to be celibate like the priests.  We all became priests.  Celibacy became the in-thing for everyone.  Sexual repression was de rigueur for everyone, not just the priests.  Needless to say, I think celibacy is an unnatural condition, a denial of human nature, a perversion in itself.  And this so-called virtue was inflicted on the general population for decades by trumpeting Irish politicians as well as priests and bishops.

It took us to the 1970s and 1980s to start to wake up.  In my school, I remember we did have a sex education class.  Around 1988.  I don't remember how long it lasted. 15 minutes?  Boys and girls were divided.  Our woodwork teacher gave us our class.  I can't remember the details.  I do recall him saying something like, "Don't lie on top of the woman or you'll crush her.".  What a laugh!!  All the students agreed.  It provided plenty of mirth for the rest of the week.

The only difference between the Catholic church and the Church of Scientology is that the Catholic church is a little older.  Both are businesses.  And this was the Catholic church that De Valera mistakenly sought to compromise with in 1937.  A church that is simply unable to compromise because its doctrines didn't broach compromise.  I think Poland nowadays is making the same mistakes as Ireland was and is doing..  For example, I believe in Polish state schools, upon the insistence of the Catholic church, Catholic doctrine has to be taught, whether that be in isolation or together with other faiths I dunno.  But, let me tell you, "religion class" was one boring class all of us had to endure in the late 80s.  Our religion teacher was actually a nice man, a recovered alcoholic and, like Gerry Rodgers, the history teacher, he was a genuine human being.  Yeah, he was a retired Catholic priest too!!.  I liked him.  Like the history teacher, he had the intelligence and the humanity to recognise I was being bullied not just in school but at home too.  He knew.  Anyone who had two brain cells to rub together knew.  So, that meant that 80% of the teachers in my school didn't know.  But, that is beside the point.  Although, the religion teacher was a nice man, most of the time, he just let us do our homework during this class.  I'm sure he had lots to teach but, really, teenagers are not interested in church doctrines.  They're interested in philosophy, if taught the right way, and science.  Church doctrines?  That's for the esoteric.  The religion teacher had copped onto this and so just let us do our homework.  In return, us grateful students, played hush hush and didn't rat on him to the Principal.

Thank you for reading.

Paul Carr

I wasn't sexually abused in school but I was physically abused. For
example, when I was around 14, I remember I was waiting dutifully
outside the classroom waiting for the next class to start.  The door
had a window and, inside, I could see our Geography teacher ear-
wigging some of his students.  He was notorious for doing this.
Indeed, he was proud of it and was happy to have acquired this
reputation amongst his students and fellow teachers for doing this on
a regular basis. He was a Gaelgeoir.  I remember his name and if there
are 5 votes on SCI, I'd be happy to name him here.  Anyway, he saw me
and came out of the class and started to ear-wig me.  I mean, what did
I do wrong?!! I was just waiting for the next fecking class!!  In
other words, I was being a good student.  But, being a good student
was the wrong thing to be doing at that particular moment in time.

In a modern industrialized society where the rule-of-law is respected
and enforced, I imagine that this sort of behaviour my geography
teacher was engaging in would be totally out-of-bounds.  He would have
gotten a one week suspension, scrub that, a 4 week suspension without
pay, for that misconduct..  But, no, no, no, not in Ireland.  This
sort of behaviour was par for the course and normal behaviour.
Indeed, such rough behaviour was encouraged amongst the teachers.
Years later, I discovered a website (I think I got the tip-off on SCI,
thank you for that) where teachers and secondary schools were reviewed
by past students.  I discovered that I wasn't alone in feeling that my
geography teacher was a wanker and a pillock.  In fact, it was almost
a consensus view of those past-students who posted on the message
board who knew of him and had the misfortune to be "taught" by him
that indeed he had some issues.

I was reminded of something else about him.  He once told our
classroom, in geography class, with a totally straight face, that
there were no blue-eyed people in Italy.  I kid you not! He said that,
"There are no blue-eyed people in Italy". He actually believed that.
In addition to engaging in misconduct and unprofessional behaviour and
all that, he was thick to boot.  If any student dared to fact-check
him, he would surely have been ear-wigged or worse for impudence.

Okay, yes, it's true.  There were good teachers in my secondary school
too.  They were beacons of light.  But, they were beacons of light
BECAUSE they were the exception.  My guess is that at the time I was
going to secondary school in the late 80s and early 90s, about 20% of
the teachers were outright bad teachers, like the geography teacher I
wrote about above.  About 20% more were good teachers and about 60%
were, well, I would describe them as shite teachers but, at least,
they weren't actively bad in the sense that they were beating their
students or worse, engaging in sexual abuse and so on.  Okay, in my
school, I do recall there was a good teacher.  He was our history
teacher.  He was also a Gaelgeoir.  He actually valued the job he was
doing.  He saw his function as to teach, not to make money, or
complain that he wasn't making enough money.  He enjoyed his job.  He
knew his subject area but he was humble enough to admit to his
students that he wasn't the all-knowing fount of knowledge on the area
either.  More importantly, he saw his role as setting a good example
to his students in his day-to-day professional conduct.  I don't
recall him ever losing his cool like the shite geography teacher I
mentioned above.  He accepted that there were more than one point-of-
view on a particular issue.

Unfortunately, I think the majority of teachers (80%)  back in the
days I was at school didn't value their jobs as teachers.  For them,
teaching was an inconvenience.  They whined and complained that they
weren't getting enough money.  Of course, they complained about the
students who were rude and bold and didn't want to learn, blissfully
ignorant of the fact that they had nothing to teach them.  They
complained about their perceived social mores where the students were
the "youth of the country", the "young blood", "the future", "the
lifeblood" of the country.  They resented this.  Why should the
students they "taught" be considered so important?  They scratched
their heads.  They had a casual approach to teaching.  However, they
were not the 20% minority who were out-and-out bad teachers.  Social
mores, rules of social decency, social stigma, a fear of the
retribution of the law prevented these teachers, even if they wanted
to, to raise their hands and strike their students or worse..
However, clearly, they were uninspired, in contrast to the history
teacher I wrote about.  My geography teacher however undoubtedly
belonged to the 20% minority of obviously bad eggs.  And he was never
ever apologetic about his bad behaviour.  In fact, in time, he was
promoted within the school to become the vice-Principal (maybe the
Principal in time but I wasn't following his career)  I don't know
where he is now. Is he dead?  Is he alive but retired?  Is he alive
and still teaching?  I dunno and frankly I don't care.  He was about
50 or so at the time he was "teaching" me in the late 80s and early
90s.  My guess is that he is unreformed and still thinks that he was
doing (and is doing?) the right thing.  Physical abuse of students is
just a-okay, otherwise they'll just get out-of-hand and enter a life
of crime.  They're shites after all.  But, what he probably still
fails to understand is that he helped make them into shites.

This 20% minority of teachers indeed had an active philosophy.  Their
philosophy was that the students they taught were worthless and needed
to be dragged down to their own level of indecency and stunted
emotional and sexual growth.  The 60% majority of teachers who were
lazy and indifferent also had the same active philosophy because they
did nothing.  And, then you had the 20% minority who were the beacons
of light and the bearers of hope in the midst of hard times.

Reading into the "Commission to Inquire Into Child Abuse" on
wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commission_to_Inquire_into_Child_Abuse,
the report found that, "beyond a doubt that the entire system treated
children more like prison inmates and slaves than people with legal
rights and human potential"

Human potential!! Students have..... human potential?!!.  Try telling
that to the 80% of the teachers who taught me in secondary school in
the late 80s and early 90s, they'd look at you as if they were from
the Planet Neptune, or the dwarf planet Pluto, or the Planet Zog.
Students are... shite.  That's easier for them to digest.  Maybe,
things in schools are a little better these days.  I hope so.

Paul Carr

---

Gotta say, Jochen, this whole discussion is taking its emotional toll
on me.  You're right.  We invent a vocabulary extraneous to the
English language, words like "divine"  or word-combinations like
"divinely ordained".  And then guys say, "Okay, this is wrong, but it
is divine." or "this is wrong but it's divinely ordained".  That way
we turn wrong into right.  That way we can reason, "this is wrong but,
in fact, it's right." because it's divinely ordained.

Really, my heart goes out to all of you who have been sexually
abused.  Man, I can't imagine how horrible that is.  In my view
however, sexual abuse, horrible as it is, is merely a subset of
violence.  It is of course a particularly vicious subset of violence.
Physical violence, I think, often has the same effects as sexual
violence.  Perhaps, however, one needs to receive more physical
violence in order to receive the same negative effects (&) over time
than would be the case with sexual violence.

Earlier on this thread I wrote about the nasty Geography teacher I had
the misfortune to be "taught" by..  [sighs].  To be honest with you,
as bad as the occasional abuse I received from some of the teachers in
my comprehensive/secondary school in Killybegs, County Donegal, was,
that was nothing compared to the violence I received from my fellow
students and from my own father.  My geography teacher simply wouldn't
have had the time to beat/ear-wig me every day of the school week. He
had hundreds of students to go through.  There were other bad teachers
in my school.  My science teacher, for example, was a Gaelgeoir from
Kerry.  Another idiot.  He earwigged me (for the record, earwigging
involves twisting the earlobe of a victim until pain registers on the
victim's face and then go beyond that)(&&).  He earwigged me one time
because he mistakenly thought I had done something wrong.  In fact, it
was another boy.  Later, he was man enough to apologize to me.
However, I still think he should have got a 4 week suspension without
pay for his childish stunt.  And, to be clear, any teacher who does
that level of violence on one of his/her charges should receive the
same punishment.  Utterly unprofessional behaviour.  Returning back to
my geography teacher,  that guy was to professionalism what Albert
Reynolds was to oratory or Bertie Ahern was to statesmanship.  He
lived and breathed unprofessionalism.  And, actually, yeah, I think he
did become the Principal of my Secondary/Comprehensive school some
time after I had left.

But, as I said, the occasional violence from some of the teachers was
as nothing compared to the more constant stream of violence coming
from two other sources, namely my dad, and my fellow students.  I
still can't decide which one of those was worse.

Starting with my fellow students then, yeah, the bullying was bad.
When I was 16/17 years old, I dreaded going to school in the morning.
I had to wait with these horrible guys every morning whilst we all
waited for our first class.  Utter torment.  It got so bad that the
point was reached when at night, I dreamt that I would take my
vengeance out upon these boys, only to wake up the next morning to go
to school to receive a fresh round of torment from them.

And, my father.  My father felt he had a "man's divine right" to beat
his family.  He hit me.  He hit my brother.  He hit my sister and he
hit my mother.  No one was spared in our family.  It was the late
80s.  Times were hard.  Charles Haughey was living the life of a King.
(&&&&)  My dad had a medical operation in the early 80s and was
finding it difficult getting back into the workforce.  [sighs] My
mother was frustrated with him sometimes and with his slow progress in
finding a job and used to berate him about it. "Get a job", she would
say.  My father would strike back, screaming "shut up".

I was up in my bedroom.  There was nothing I can do.  What could I
do?  I was impotent, just wanking away in my bedroom.

I was scared of my dad.  My dad died on November 1991 of complications
due to lymphatic cancer.  Or maybe it was just lymphatic cancer, not
sure.  In the months leading up to his death, I didn't talk to him at
all.  Maybe, just the occasional grunt when I saw him to acknowledge
his existance if he acknowledged me first.  Why was that?  One big
reason was because I was scared of him.  What did I honestly want to
say to him then?  I wanted to say to him, "Dad, you're sick.  You need
to get help. You need to see a psychiatrist or a shrink or a
psychologist.  One of those guys.".  That's what I wanted to say.
But, if I tried to say that, he would hit me.  I wouldn't even be able
to complete the first sentence.  In fact, I remember saying something
along these lines when he was driving us home from golf practice we
used to do together in Fintra (a beach resort (kinda) near
Killybegs)..  As soon as I said the first sentence, "Dad, you need to
get help..". He'd calmly but angrily slow down the car and before the
car had even stopped, he'd lay his fist into me.  So, you see, guys, I
didn't talk to my dad in his final months out of self-preservation.

My dad, like my geography teacher, was never apologetic about his
behaviour.  He really believed that he had a right to hit his family.
He really believed he had a "man's divine right" to do so.  My Dad
went to St. Eunan's in Letterkenny in the late 40s and early 50s, I
think the top-notch secondary school in Donegal for middle class
boys.  He hated it there.  I have no doubt whatsoever he received
physical abuse at any rate from the (religious) staff there.  And, I
think this was a big reason why he didn't go on to university after
his stay there in contrast to some of his brothers and sisters.  He
trained to be a seaman instead.  He had girls at every port and all
that.

By 1991, I was liberated from secondary school.  I did my Leaving Cert
that year.  Later that year, that November, my dad died.  So, the
sources of violence against me were removed.  But, the emotional
damage was done.  The, I think, intense physical abuse I received
during my teenage years, left its toll.  I became sexually repressed
and therefore prone to sexual perversions.  You see, you don't need to
receive sexual abuse to become sexually repressed.  Enough or intense
enough physical abuse can do that too.  It took me years to recover.
Have I recovered yet?  I dunno.  I cannot categorically say that I
have completely recovered.  But, it would appear that now, in my mid-
thirties, I have made some sort of recovery.  Do I want to have a
family?  I dunno because, frankly, I don't want to do unto my family
of the future what my dad did unto my mother, me and my two siblings.

Violence was endemic in my life during my teen years.  Violence rained
down upon me from the 3 sources already mentioned.  And, I'm
interested in politics because I believe that my experience is not
unique to me.  I think many many Irish families have the same
problems.  Many many students face the same problems of bullying,
whether as a perpetrator or a recipient.  Violence, I believe, is
endemic to Irish society.  And, it needs to be addressed.  And, I am
of the opinion that our society is still broken.  I'll come back to
that in a moment.

Could I have escaped, you know, back in my teen years, when the
physical abuse was being visited upon me.  I could have, I suppose.
But, where to go?  I remember my younger brother, when he was about 14
years old, left the house suddenly one day without informing the
family to go stay with a friend in Donegal Town.  2 days later or so,
he was back.  Like a typical Irish family unit, we didn't talk about
it.  My brother went back to school the next morning as if nothing had
happened. Aye, I guess he was just "spreading his wings".  When I was
around 19, a year and a half after my father died, my mother noted
that I was having some behavioural problems so she called the local
doctor.  The doctor came and he befriended me. He visited me one more
time at our home and then I visited him at his clinic.  During this
third visit, I think, I finally revealed to him that "My father beat
me".  He wasn't interested in hearing the facts from me.  Instead, he
gave me a lecture.  "I liked your father", he said, "and he liked me
too.".  As if that had anything to do with it.

These days, it's socially acceptable to discuss sexual violence
commited by priests on children in their care.  But, what about
violence within families?  We have a Constitution which emphasizes the
importance of "The Family", the fundamental social unit of society
according to the constitution if I recall correctly.  So, I guess many
people still get uncomfortable when they talk about discord and
violence within their own family.  But, these are facts too, just like
sexual abuse of children by priests.  In the early 90s, I understand
the Republic of Ireland was rightfully cited by Amnesty International,
as a country which had a high level of domestic violence, the vast
majority of it beatings by men on women or their family members.
These are facts which we can't just be wished away.

Finally, a political comment.  The Republic of Ireland is an
oligarchy.  The rich are represented by two political parties, Fine
Gael and Fianna Fail, and, to some extent, by a third, Labour.  These
parties set up phoney debates in order to confuse and alienate and
distance the majority of citizens of this country from the corridors
of power and the decision making process.  This process is kept in the
hands of the rich.  It's in the interest of the rich minority to keep
the poor minority divided and alienated and angry and violent.  The
sooner all of us in Irish society acknowledge the day-to-day
realities, including domestic violence and its negative social
effects,  the sooner we can do away with oligarchy and start to
embrace a true democracy.  Thank u.

Paul Carr

(&) For example, sexual repression.

(&&) Just wanna add, anyone who does earwigging is one sick f&^k.  My
geography teacher loved seeing the pain register on my face and other
students' faces as he twisted the earlobe of his victim.  His eyes lit
up like a shark's.  Bastard.  Apparently, in my school, there was some
unofficial "code of conduct book for teachers" where this approved
torture technique was laid out.  I imagine number 1, it would state,
"Use this technique when you're in a foul mood on lower beings (&&&)
who happen to be beside you at the time or within easy reach."

(&&&)Lower being = student

(&&&&) With apparently some sex games with Terry Keane up in the
Wicklow mountains.

Itinerary above.  It was on my to-do list for some time.  Afterwards, I visited Hong Kong for nearly a week and then returned back to Beijing yesterday.  Good trip.  Weather in Guilin and  Yangshou was okay.  The weather during my trip down the Li River was lovely.  I took a train to Guilin.  Then, I took the boat to Yangshuo.  Then, I took a bus to Shenzhen.  Then, I took the bus across the border to Hong Kong.  Finally, I took a train back from Hong Kong to Beijing.  The weather for the week I was in Hong Kong was shite.  Rained every day.  Reminded me of Irish weather, except a little warmer like 25 degrees celsius or so.  Nice trip.  Relaxed.  I took photos which you can see on the left panel with both my mobile phone camera and my other camera.

Met an old friend out of the blue in Hong Kong when I went to the train station to book a train back to Beijing.  I had worked with him in a school in Beijing.  Wow, China is such a small country!!.

The Li River was magnificent.

 
Me, Content, on the Li River Boat.

 But, so many other places to visit in China.  Eg. I wanna visit Chengdu and Chongqing.  Maybe later this year.  Hopefully, I can get a new work visa sorted out in the meantime.  My present one expires at the end of June.  Need to get a new employer to sponsor my next work visa for a year.  Hopefully, I won't have problems.  I'm not even sure if I'll stay in Beijing.  Maybe, I'll move to another city, like Shanghai?  We'll see.  Anyway, where to visit next?  Yeah, Chongqing, Chengdu.  Definitely.  I will eventually get around to visiting Tibet.  Also the north east region of Xinjiang province, places like Urumqi and Kashgar.  Definitely.  Also, Lanzhou.  Must visit that city.  Also, of course, Yunnan province!!  Definitely.  Lots of places there to visit like Xishuangbanna, the capital, Kunming, and that tourist town, Dali, I think it's called and the 3 river gorge!!.  Yeah.  And, Hainan island.  Yeah, but I wanna visit there in the winter, like January or February.  Now, it's a waste of time.  It's hot everywhere in China during the day in the summer.

Thanks for reading.

Paul Carr

Yup, finally, I did a trip which I had actually planned to do at the beginning of January and planned it at the beginning of January but never started it.  Finally, I got off my arse and did it last week.  It really was a quick trip.  I left on Wednesday, May the 13th and came back on Saturday, May the 16th.  I wanted to be back before my dental appointment on Sunday, May the 17th at 2 o'clock in the afternoon.  It turns out that on Sunday morning, I wasn't feeling any pain or ache the region where the dentist had warned me the week before I may need more than just a filling but root channel treatment, so, amyway, I cancelled the appointment.  I wasn't feeling any pain.  Why go through the aggravation?  If any ache comes back, I'll know it and I'll make an appointment with the dentist again.  I'll come to that bridge when I come to it.  Anyway, slightly irrational, right?  Oh, come on, no pain!!  So, why the f**k go through with the dental appointment?  [sighs].  But, last week, I was in a hurry to get this trip over with.  I mean I could have went on Monday but too fucking lazy I was.

Anyway, enough of that.  Actually, it was last Wednesday afternoon, that I had the idea of finally doing this fecking trip.  So, using the internet, I booked hostel private rooms in both Dalian (for Thursday night) and Yantai (for Friday night).  Then, after packing my things, trying not to forget anything, I was on my way to the Beijing train station and, you know what, they didn't have any tickets to Dalian, just standing ones.  Well, hell, I wasn't going to fecking stand for 12 fecking hours.  I was about the give up.  Then, I went to a cybercafe and tried to book a flight so that I could get to Dalian in time so that I can arrive at my hostel on time. Problem was, you need to book a flight at least 24 hours in advance if you use your credit card which I was using.  So, that didn't fecking work out either.  I was about the give up.  I had even left the cybercafe and was walking resignedly back to my apartment when I had an idea.

Back to the cybercafe I went.!!  Here's a tip people.  Buy this book!!  Screenshot below.



It's a neat book.  A list of all the trains in China (I think) are listed from pages 1 to 58.  The different classses, C,D, T and so on.

Then, the rest of the book gives you a more detailed breakdown of the train routes between particular Chinese cities.  I bought mine outside Beijing railway station. 10 kuai.  I can't emphasise enough how useful this book is to have.

Okay, I had that.  I went to this website:

http://www.chinahighlights.com

Click on "China Guide"

Then, find the link, "China Train Search".  Click on it.

Oh, it's here: http://www.chinahighlights.com/china-trains/

Now go to the part that says, "Search Trains between Two Major Stations".

Let's type in "Beijing" in "Leaving From" and "Tianjin" in "Going to".

Then, you get a whole list of the trains going between these two cities. All the information you need is there I think.  The train type and number, the names of the train stations you leave from and arrive at.  The types of seats or beds available (soft seat/hard seat/soft bed/hard bed), their price and so on.

Then, once you have selected the train number, use the book I mentioned above (pages 1 to 58) to first locate the train in the book and then you are referred to another page in the next section of the book for a more detail route map.  Ah, you're on top of it!!  You're king of the world!! You understand Chinese trains now!! Well done!!

Anyway, that was my idea!!  Instead of leaving from Beijing to Dalian, I thought to myself, why not from Tianjin to Dalian instead!!  Wicked.  So, I booked a C type train (very fast CRH train service between Beijing and Tianjin - only 30 minutes to arrive - top speed 350 kph) to Tianjin and then, at Tianjin East railway station where I arrived, I booked a train leaving at 5 o'clock that morning to Dalian.  Fortunately, there had a hard bed for me.  Great!! At least for the 10 hour trip or so I can lie down.  Yeah, I knew there was a train on Thursday morning from Tianjin to Dalian because I first consulted the chinahighlights.com website and then referred to the book for a more detailed itinerary.  I suppose the book isn't absolutely necessary to have but, for me, it's reassuring and empowering to have.  The chinahighlights.com website is a gem!!  So, I got out of that predicament.

As a foreigner, with limited Chinese, I don't know if I can book a train ticket whilst in one city from city B to city C.  I don't think so.  I don't know if I can reserve one.  I don't think so.  I reckoned that since the May holiday was over, I could find a soft bed from Beijing to Dalian on the same day.  I was wrong.  Damn, Beijing is such a fecking busy city!!  I guess I needed to book a day in advance. 

At Tianjin, I decided to stay in a hostel to lay my head down for 4 hours or so.  I was tired.  I did that.  The webcafe at Tianjin East train station had HUGE screens.  Man, they were huge.  Then, when I got to Dalian and visited a webcafe there, they were even HUGER.  Man.  I took photos of that.  See the photo album on right.

Anyway, I took the train finally to Dalian.  Nice.  Took the taxi to my hostel.  I think I put down the deposit and booked it at either www.hostelbookers.com or www.hostelworld.com .  Nice hotel, actually.  The Jinjiang hotel.  But, to be honest, I would have preferred to stay at a hostel.  More informal atmosphere.  More young people, rather than staid and all-too-fucking-serious businessmen usually.  But, anyway, it was nice.  I consulted my China guide book.  This book below.



I recommend you take this China - Lonely Planet book throughout your trip.  I read this book and discovered that I could book a ferry ticket from Dalian to Yantai (as I had planned to do back in January) at the train station in Dalian.  So, I went to the train station and booked a ferry.  It was a slow one though.  I think the guy said in Chinese that the fast, 3 hour crossing, ones were all booked out.  So, I bought a slow one (6 hour crossing).  I only had a seat but I didn't mind that much.  Well, I did! Turning out many of the Chinese men in the communal room were smoking!! Damn, I hate smoking.  Anyway, it's a good book to have and you should alway take this book anywhere you go.

Here's a pic of the ferry I took.



After I got off at Yantai. [sighs].  I tried to speak some Chinese to the people on the ferry but I don't really say much!! I was studying some Chinese during the trip.  I took some Chinese language books during the trip.  Then, in Yantai, I had a stumble.  I had booked a place at a youth hostel, the Yantai youth hostel, but the print outs I had taken with me on my trip didn't get the fucking address in Chinese characters.  Well, that's just fucking great!! Taxi drivers won't understand roman script!!  Can someone please tell the Yantai youth hostel this?  Anyway, finally, we managed to find it - me and the taxi driver. 

The hostel turned out to be pretty cool.  Perhaps the best place I've stayed yet.  I paid about 250 rmb for a room but it was damn plush.  I just wanted the one fucking bed.  They gave me an apartment with 3 beds, a kitchen, a nice bathroom and all the accoutrements.  There was this real cook transparent digital clock beside my bed.  Pic below.  Everything about the place was cool.


Cool transparent digital clock.

I was thinking while laying down on the bed that it would be nice to manage a hotel or a hostel.  Nice easy-going job.  I'd love to do that in the future.

Once I arrived at my new digs, I did what I did when I arrived at my digs in Dalian.  I wanked off.

HeHe

Then, I went off to the train station to book a train ticket to Jinan.  That's the problem I discovered whilst in Beijing.  I couldn't find a early enough train going direct from Yantai to Beijing.  One left late at night on Saturday but didn't arrive until early afternoon on Sunday.  Remember I had a dental appointment so that was out.  Again, using the utterly cook, chinahighlights.com website and my train schedule book, I figured out an alternative faster route, via Jinan.  At the back of my mind, I was wondering if I was going to pull this off.  Might I be able to get back to Beijing on time for my dental appointment - which I was consequently to cancel anyway?   One disadvantage about the Yantai hostel was that it was quite far (30rmb plus cab ride) from there ot the train station located naturally in the city centre..  But, still, I suppose I'd stay at the Yantai hostel again.  One of my pretty Chinese students in the past told me to visit this town, her home town in the past.  I wondered if I may bump into her.  No avail.  I did in Yantai, what I did in Dalian.  Went to a web cafe (wangbas, or internet cafes) were refreshingly easy to find) and also I went to a KFC or McDonalds.  KFC in Yantai and McDonalds in Dalian.  Ah, now I can say I *visited* the cities.  

Anyway, Saturday morning, I was off again.  I took a damn slow train to Jinan, the capital of Shandong province.  My flatmate texted me to warn me that swine flu had arrived in Shandong province.  Oh, honey, I'm on my holliers, spare me the info please!!  Anyway, at least, I had a soft bed.  Upon arrival, I quickly found the ticket station.  Tip: exit the station, turn around and look around and you should find a ticket station somewhere close.  Should work in any train station in China.  I think I was lucky.  I got a first class seat.  I don't think there were hard beds or soft beds.  It was a CRH train with a top speed of 250 mph.  I was kinda worried this stage that my slight sore throat was the beginnings of swine flu!! Thanks, flatmate!!.  It turned out to be okay.  I ate some food on the train.  The tray was tucked into the arm of the chair I sat on, folding out.  Neat.  I was happy.  Got into the really really modern and new Beijing South Station. Been here before.  Walked out to the subterranean taxi rank.  Big queue.  It was diminished quickly however as there were aplenty of taxis to service the demand.  I was in a taxi in no time on my way back to Dongzhimen subway station where I had stationed my bike these past 3 or so days.  I was still there in a safe place.  I cycled back ot my apartment and I was home!!  Then, I got lazy and the following day, did fuck all!!  Like some sort of funk, a heavy funk, had laid its heavy hand of immobility upon me.  Today, well, I've been doing some work, such as writing this my report to yess all.  Did you read it?  If so, please comment.  Thanks, y'all.

Paul Carr

I was cycling back home from Wangfujing street the other day and this billboard caught my eye.


Who is she?

Wow, is this Maria Ozawa?  The Japanese Porn Star.  Sure, looks like her!!  Or maybe it's just that all these orientals look alike.

Maria Ozawa - A Less Controversial Pose.

I discovered this truly excellent movie a few weeks back and I really recommend you watch it!!

You can watch it here:

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-594683847743189197

It's called "Zeitgeist - The Movie".

Here's a screendump:



Actually, the film comes in 3 parts.  Regarding Part II, I am not a 9/11 conspiracy believer.  I can only believe about 10% of what is said in Part II.  Part II contends that there were controlled explosions of 3 buildings on 9/11.  Also, regarding Part III of the movie, again, I have to say I only believe about 50% of what is said there.  Part III basically contends that the Federal Reserve just wants to rob people of their money.  Regarding Part II, I will say however that I do find it disturbing that President George W. Bush and his Vice President, Dick Cheney, succeeded in persuading the 9/11 Commission not to take any record of their testimony.  I guess though, like Bill Maher and others, I have to say I don't think there was a 9/11 conspiracy where the US government actively plotted to have the buildings destroyed by controlled explosions and hijacked airplanes.  George W. Bush just wouldn't have the competence to pull off something as audacious as that.

It's Part I which really fascinates me though.  I have to say I believe 90% of what's said and maybe more.  Here's a quotation of US Patriot, Thomas Paine (1737-1809), taken from the movie.

"The Christian religion is a parody on the worship of the sun, in which they put a man called Christ in the place of the sun, and pay him the adoration originally payed to the sun." Thomas Paine

Basically, the film contends, for me very convincingly, that Christianity is merely a solar cult, just one of many, where we worship "Christ" instead of the Sun.  For the past 50,000 years, our species, Homo Sapiens, has appreciated the power of the sun.  The Sun brought life, dispelled night-time predators and, later, when humans began to cultivate the land, the sun helped the crops to grow.  Humans have always had an unmatched reverence for the sun. Humans have always had a fascination for the sky above them where the Sun, Moon and stars and planets were located and moved.  They sought to understand it.  The film basically contends that Christianity is a gnostic sect which had adopted a  mythical figure, "Christ".  "Christ" was just like many other mythical figures in other pagan religions.  One such example was the Egyptian Sun-God, Horus.  These solar prophets had much in common such as being born on December 25th, born of the virgin, beginning a ministry at age 30, risen from the Dead and so on.  Watch it!!  Tell me what you think.

I've watched it a few times already and I intend to watch it again and again. 

More quotations from the movie:

Jordan Maxwell says "Christianity just is not based on truth.  We find that Christianity was in fact nothing more than a Roman story, developed politically".

The Narrator continues: "The reality is that Jesus was the solar deity of the gnostic Christian sect and like all other pagan Gods he was a mythical figure.  It was the political establishment that sought to historize the Jesus figure for social control.  By 325AD in Rome, Emperor Constantine convened the Council of Nicaea.  It was during this meeting that the politically motivated Christian doctrines were established and thus began a long history of Christian bloodshed and spiritual fraud.  And, for the next 1600 years, the Vatican maintained a political stranglehold on all of Europe, leading to such joyous periods as the Dark Ages along with enlightening events such as the Crusades and the Inquisition.  Christianity, along with all other theistic belief systems, is the fraud of the age.  It serves to detach the species from the natural world and likewise each other. It supports blind submission to authority.  It reduces human responsibility to the effect that God controls everything and, in turn, awful crimes can be justified in the name of divine pursuit.  And, most importantly, it empowers those who know the truth but use the myth to manipulate and control societies.  The religious myth is the most powerful device ever created and serves as the psychological soil upon which other myths can flourish".

After this narration, we quickly move onto the 9/11 conspiracy theory (which I don't believe, by and large)

Well, before the start of Part II, here's another quotation from David Ray Griffin.

"A myth is an idea that, while widely believed, is false.  In a deeper sense, in the religious sense, a myth serves as an orienting and mobilizing story for a people. The focus is not on the story's relation to reality but on its function.  A story cannot function unless it is believed to be true in the community or the nation.  It is not a matter of debate if some people have the bad taste to raise the question of the truth of the sacred story. The keepers of the faith don't enter into debate with them - they ignore them or denounce them as blasphemers."

Another quote from Robert G. Ingersoll (1833 - 1899) taken from the movie.

"Religion can never reform mankind because religion is slavery."

My Facebook Page is here:

http://twurl.nl/0a68vq

My Twitter page is here:

http://twitter.com/paulcarr1974

I guess I should mention this.  It was kinda lonely turning 35.  No illusions any more about being a young man..  I had to snuggle up to someone.

Anyway, my birthday was on April 22nd.  I look forward with trepidation.