Archive for September, 2010

The two intrepid reporters approached the Dáil, hoping to have some serious questions answered, armed with a camera and a butt plug, just in case.

A big lorry came and parked outside the Dáil in an act of protest about toxic banks. Reporters were later to be seen spinning the story that it had tried to crash through the gates. Later still, politicians were defecating the same thing. We had enough. We produced the butt plug. The politicians seemed to like it.

Not all of us are willing to take it in the arse for the banks.


Madam K


The lorry didn’t try to ram through the gates. If it had, it would have succeeded. The gardaí sprang into action by breaking the back and side windows. The gentleman, who’d immobilised the vehicle, was arrested and taken away. We hope he’s safe and sound and we wish to extend our congratulations to him. The gardaí stood around scratching their heads through their hats. Nobody it seems, considered the possibility that the truck might explode at any second. A very good thing it didn’t, as the bodycount would have been high, due to lots of good folks travelling to work and others stopping up to see what was going on.

A tow truck eventually arrived. There have been many things said about the lorry having slowed or stopped traffic, this was far from the truth, it was the tow truck that hindered traffic. The lorry was winched up and dragged away nearly two hours later.

The politicians started to arrive. We really wanted to question them about their ideas on our debt crisis, NAMA and other things. We’d discussed our approach a number of times and had decided to bring along a butt plug in the event that the politicians decided to be anal. They decided to be anal, just like we really knew they would. They didn’t disappoint us.

When asked questions about how the deficit was going to be plugged or if the people of Ireland felt that they were taking it up the arse for the banks, the politicians almost eat the butt plug, in their hurry to promote themselves and the shite they were expelling. Most of the reporters around spotted the butt plug and were caking themselves laughing. Except one RTE reporter who exclaimed loudly about the “dildo.” You’d think if anyone could tell the difference between a dildo and a butt plug, it’d be RTE!

The Dáil was a hive of activity. Lots of old friends about and some new. I spotted the patient Peter Preston beside the gates. As ever he was sticking it to the politicians and they had nothing to say about it, as usual. Some of the more media desperate TDs elbowed their way into posing for the cameras with some schoolkids who’d come to deliver material on behalf of Amnesty International, to Mary Harney, who was nowhere to be seen. The unemployed, the employed, victims of the HSE, anti-fox hunting representatives and many anti-NAMA folks all turned up.

Despite everything, the crisis that is the government continues. The banks will be taken care of. The sick and the dying can wait for nothing. We can all like it or shut up. And all the saps at the Dáil have to show for themselves is their willingness to talk shite into a butt plug.


The Toxic Bank Lorry



Busted Windows



Cleaning up the broken glass



Spout shit in the presence of Madam K at your peril



Okay lads, remember, don't talk shite



Warned ye!



You know you want it!



The Wand of Truth



This is what all the bullshit's about

In the next installment we think bigger!


Madam K’s Youtube Channel:

A man of the people. Flawed yes. But a man of the people all the same. Some alcohol, some nudity and some public urination, we take to the streets with Brian Cowen to say sorry.

We caught up with the slightly inebriated Mr Cowen today (Wednesday, September 15th) as he staggered amongst the common people. He’s genuinely sorry. The poor man made his way from person to person, laying it all on the line for them. He’s only human. He’s got to save over €3 billion in December’s budget and he demonstrated today that the poor will not be the sole victims in this. He produced a paper cup and in the two hours or so that we spent with him, collected significant funds to offset December’s targets.

Nobody could spend time with Brian without querying the mysteries of this misunderstood and enigmatic man. We had lots of questions for him. We first caught up with him in a bar and after he had put his trousers back on he agreed to talk to us.

We first asked him about the giveaway of Irish resources to Shell and the Shell to Sea campaign. Of particular interest was the thorny issue of CAOs (Compulsory Acquisition Orders). After all this is the first time in the history of the State that a private business has been allowed to order people off their land. The Constitution requires that such an order must solve an exigency with regard to the common good. We thought we had Brian by the short and curlies on this one. We were wrong: “This country is fucked… Fianna Fail is fucked… The country’s fucked because Fianna Fail is fucked. That’s a fuckin’ exigency. If I can make Shell happy then I’ll be happy and thus, Fianna Fail will be happy. Emergency over…” He said that he supports the Shell to Sea campaign. It keeps the gardaí occupied and physically fit, he told us. When asked did he support the campaign of physical violence and criminalisation against the group he said: “Sure they’re fuckin’ hippies, they love that…”

When asked to comment about the Road Through Tara Project, Brian replied that too many people are caught up in the past and said that “the future is in the future.” A couple of points later and after a brief session on the floor where this great man shed tears for his country he sobbed that he loves Tara and that it was very important to worship and care for those who owned the land upon which the road was built.

What about Extraordinary Rendition being facilitated in Shannon Airport we asked him. “We have high quality assurances from our best friends in the US,” he told us. “Better and more heartfelt assurances than anyone they lied to.” Who couldn’t be convinced by the openness and clarity of this besieged and broken man? We wept. We wept with him and drank some more. Then it was time to take to the streets. To meet the common man. Brian wanted to personally apologise.

Brian hit Grafton Street with a vengeance and after picking himself up, set about the task of connecting with the people. Armed with a paper cup, to help fund December’s budget, a little blackboard to communicate his apology to those who couldn’t hear his bellowing and a commitment to the electorate, Brian staggered through the throngs, telling anyone who’d listen, that he was sorry.

He’s sorry for the “fuck up” that is NAMA. Gambling addiction is an illness he told people. He said that we shouldn’t judge people on account of their illnesses. “We should love them unconditionally,” he sobbed. At this point he needed to lie down for a while. Many passers by were seen to wipe years from their eyes as they passed the sobbing wreck. It wasn’t just cheap emotion either. Many tightened their belts and gave generously, patriotically throwing coppers into Brian’s cup. You could see the love. You could smell it.

This is not an exercise in spin on behalf of Brian. Far from it. Brian doesn’t wobble his way out of this a sober and forgiven man. He lurches forward, urinates publicly and says he’s sorry. That’s not perfection. That’s human and that’s leadership.

As we left Brian to his fate we witnessed one last act. He stopped up, face first and dug greatly into the budget cup to give generously to a young lady collecting for animal rights. “This is for John… John Gormley… I fuckin’ love that man,” Brian told the A-Liberation activist. We could take no more. To stay longer would be to risk being blinded by greatness. Brian’s sorry. And we’re sorry for ever doubting him.

Many thanks to Agnieszka Chojnacka for some of the photos

Shell To Sea:

Shannon Watch:

Save Tara:

Madam K’s Channel:


Brian reads the news

A plan in formation

A man of the people

Capturing hearts and minds


So "sorrry."

Goin' round in circles - The economy turns the corner again

Writing's on the wall

Brian adds a little something

Says it all!

Your's truly moves in for a closeup of Brian

Print it up and give it to the useless fucker!

4th September 2010, Dublin.

I arrived outside Easons a little before 9.00am. There was a line of Blair worshippers, about 200 – 300 of them, lined up outside the side entrance. I ignored them, life’s too short…

The gardaí were setting up barriers as I arrived, fencing off all entry into Easons. I recognised many of them. I exchanged pleasantries with the pleasant ones and glared back at the glaring ones. Folks who were not happy that a war criminal scumbag was in the country began to arrive. I chatted with many old friends as we waited.

When the criminal eventually arrived, in a D reg grey BMW, the festivities really kicked off. Eggs, plastic bottles, placards, shoes and boots were launched as the greying criminal walked into the shop. The spin merchants have been at it already. They’ve condemned the missile launchers for endangering the innocents who went to buy books and have them signed by Blair. This is a fabrication of course, Blair went in the front door and the autograph hunters went in the side entrance.

Some scuffles, small at first, broke out between us and the gardaí, once Blair was safely inside. The first arrest occurred at this time. These small scuffles were to mark the way things were to go for about the first hour or so. The gardaí, in fairness to the most of them, used their retractable batons sparingly, even though most were displaying them, flicking them into the extended weapon to give warning or challenge. An hour or so after Blair arrived, things got more serious, after another arrest. The Public Order Unit, a bunch of armoured gimps, wearing no identification, had put prisoners into a paddy wagon. As they attempted to move it, folks began to sit on the road, blocking it, including a wheelchair user. These folks, including the gentleman in the wheelchair, were dragged aside without any consideration as to their health, safety or rights. Things got ugly then. Getting the prisoners away in this particular vehicle had to be abandoned. The Public Order Unit transferred their captives from the back of the vehicle and into another, which was then driven away, being kicked and battered by activists.

After this, things mostly quieted down, and we waited for the criminal to leave his third floor sanctuary in Easons. He was eventually whisked back into his waiting beamer by his personal security and members of the Special Branch, to cries of “scumbag,” “war criminal,” “dirty bastard,” and other appropriate epitaphs.

It was most likely figured that Ireland would be the best place to start launching Blair’s work of egregious fiction, due to his alleged work in the peace process in Northern Ireland. That was a mistake. Blair has started his project with an international incident, that spells out in no uncertain terms that his presence only warrants an arrest. He will not and he should no be tolerated anywhere he goes.

Activist and member of IPSC (Ireland Palestine Solidarity Campaign), Kate O’Sullivan, infiltrated the literal ring of steel surrounding Easons, to place the war criminal under arrest. The intrepid activist got to look Blair in the eyes and tell him that he was under arrest, before being grabbed and detained by the minions of Blair and the State. Way to go Kate!

Another Activist, this time from the GAAW (Galway Alliance Against  War), I think it was Niall Farrell, also made it into Easons, but was detected and turfed out as a “security risk.” Unlucky Niall. Excellent attempt nonetheless.

There was rather a poor turnout, only around 200 or so. The rain didn’t help. But numbers aren’t everything. Blair’s just discovered another place that won’t tolerate him!

Autograph hunters await the war criminal

Gardaí investigate a potential sniper platform

Elaine shoots Blair between two poles - with a camera 😦

Many thanks to Elaine O’Sullivan for allowing me to use some of her pictures