Why we don't want moral lectures from Gerry Adams
It is too grotesque for words that the county where poor Jean McConville's bones were finally found should soon become the launch pad of the Sinn Fein leader's bid for power in the Republic. Lo! Sir Gerard Adams, Knight of the Green Branch, saddling up his trusty steed, to come to the moral rescue of Ireland.
Moreover, fresh horrors probably await us, even as this egotistical club-bore lectures us, poking us in the chest with his imaginary pipe and telling us the many errors of our ways, as he plots his path to the Park in time for 2016. President Gerard Adams: the ultimate nadir.
Such a ludicrous prospect is only possible through the one-sided amnesia of the peace process.
This ordained that we'd forget everything the Shinners and the Orange Psychos did - the graves they'd filled, the eyeless they'd blinded and the limbless in wheelchairs.
But we didn't extract any comparable self-denying ordinances from the grinning gun-ghouls. We didn't say, "look if you're ever tempted to act high and mighty with us, four words of advice: Shut The F*** Up".
Instead, the peace process merely endorsed the dual-morality which makes up republican hard-wiring. Whereas they execute, the British murder. They have active service units; loyalists and the British have death squads. They have well-planned ambushes; the state has shoot-to-kill policies.
Like a virus, this vocabulary has successfully worked its way into the lexicon of mainstream journalism.
The least we deserved from the constitutional politicians who were engaged in the grisly journeying through the sewers of the peace process was for them to bind Gerry Adams to an oath of silence about the affairs of this Republic.
No moralising, Reverend Sir Gerard Adams, all right? No sanctimonious drivel, okay? Stop accosting strangers and lecturing them like a street-corner Methodist lay preacher. We've heard the shovels at midnight: so STFU.
That didn't happen, did it? As the Sinn Fein movement trembled on the verge of destruction from the sheer weight of informers in its upper-ranks, with each meeting of the IRA army council resembling a liaison committee co-ordinating the different branches of British intelligence, it was then rescued in the nick of time by a pusillanimous nationalist Ireland.
The loyal moles of Shinnerdom in the media, the civil service and the trade union movement were then told to lie low and prepare for the big drive for power in Dublin.
Two years ago, I was just one of many idiot-optimists who said the Shinners' day in the Republic was done. Wrong again. For unless we start speaking the truth about Sinn Fein-IRA, we could see murder in government in Leinster House, and much the same in the Aras. Maybe it's time for the Director of Army Intelligence to have a word or two in a Shinner ear.
Last March, when Gerry Adams was enjoying one of those cosy little chats that go by the name of "interviews" whenever the national broadcaster talks to him, almost as an afterthought, the RTE employee slipped into the most pressing issue of the day, almost calling him sir, and grovellingly apologising for intruding on family matters. Not at all, murmured Sage Uncle Gerry, audibly waving his imaginary pipe.
Sorry. It will not do. The repeated rape of a little girl is not a "family matter". Nor is the serial removal of the rapist from justice. I thought back then that we had finally reached the nadir, but how little I knew.
For even the Presidency is now a Sinn Fein possibility, once the moral dystopia of west Belfast has been extended to cover the entire island of Ireland. In this depraved ethos, it has become taboo to hark back to anything in the Sinn Fein-IRA past, whereas of course the Shinners are free to muck-rake as they like about constitutional politicians.
And I can just imagine the agonised but acquiescent Fianna Fail silence at the Louth hustings over such questions as the abduction and murder of Jean Mc Conville; the fate of poor, tortured Tom Oliver RIP; the Bloody Friday massacre; and the careful prolongation of the hunger strikes in 1981 to maximise the political impact of a few more deaths.
But as for the Shinners, it will of course be Liberty Hall, as Adams, once again moralising, jabs the air with his non-existent pipe, and conducts a safari hunt through the savannah of the Republic's recent history, potting the big game of Fianna Fail's sinful wildlife.
What next in this downward spiral of national ignominy? Is Robert Mugabe to open up a Born-Again Mission Hall in Abbey Street in Dublin? Perhaps the Hutu Machete Alliance can give lessons on civics and sewing to Ogra Fianna Fail.