Political Colonialism: A Story of Leprechauns and Gorillas...

Day 931, 21:10 • Published in Ireland Ireland • by Lord Rhindon

When the word “colonization” is uttered, most of us tend to add a picture to the phrase, a swashbuckler - standing clearly out of place on the beach - sword proudly raised high, British flag fluttering overhead, atop the mast of the Nina or Pinta. Behind him, a boatload of eager settlers.



Classic image.

They came King first. Country second. The Monarch was superior to the native land, and this was apparent as they began to construct societies and traditions that reflected their motherland’s culture. It was British Colonialism, through and through.

Now allow me to draw a parallel. For this is virtual reality. The mimicking shadow of real-life.

Lets be ironic. A boatload of 50 eAmericans, from the Workers Party, arrive in Ireland. Actually, lets imagine they're from the Stomping Gorillas of Doom Party...it doesn’t really matter. They’re happily welcomed by the hospitable native leprechauns. They are thankful for the generosity, but they remain immensely patriotic to their Party President, the Great Primate, whom they worship (they daily present him with incensed offerings of magic bananas).




They construct banana leaf huts in and around Cork and Kerry, their colony big, but not overwhelming. Their staple diet is banana stew and they all work in a magic banana factory, so they can keep feeding their leader. They remain loyal to their settlement, they rarely venture outside or care to learn and take on leprechaun ways. Because, they’re assured by their protectors (The Irish Fellowship of Baboons), no one will question them, so long as they kindly care to vote for the Irish Baboon King on occasion.

So the Stomping Gorillas of Doom are happy. They know its Great Primate first, Irish Baboon King second, Ireland third. So long as they can keep making magic bananas to satisfy their great leader, they’re happy.

The Irish Baboon King sees how his homeland takes pity on these poor primates, and how his cause is now growing stronger and stronger. So he begins to invite more and more fellow gorillas from around the world to immigrate to Ireland - whole parties! He calls it the “Banana Colonization Initiative”, and whole settlements are set up just outside Dublin, Galway, Waterford, Limerick, and even little Dingle town. But even that’s not enough! A whole new jungle species come aboard - the fierce and brave African Lions! They pledge total support to the Irish Baboon King, and through their mighty roars and sheer number of votes, they prop him up on the great Hill of Tara.



Now, all the jungle animals know its Baboon King first, Ireland second.

The little leprechauns of Ireland become very afraid. All these newcomers...they speak an unintelligible language...they practice their own gorilla religion, and they all work in these strange magic banana factories! These jungle animals don’t know what Ireland is, only what the Baboon King is! And now they’ve occupied the Hill of Tara!!



So the more radical of the leprechauns take up their pitchforks, and storm the hill.

They’re brutally mauled by the lion claw. Torn apart at their little limbs by gorilla muscle. And there the counter-attack begins, but against the entire leprechaun population. From then on, the day of iron Baboon rule, backed by all the jungle creatures, becomes known to all. The PTO was a complete success, even if at first it was...sort of...unintentional.



End of Story.

Now, I don’t think the Turks equal the intelligence of the Gorillas. No. They’re smarter. Much more so. Here’s that same line again:

Party first, country second.
Party first, Ireland second.

That’s the idea. In their view, the Party IS the Country. And vice versa. The problem with this mentality is displayed in the given scenario. It puts Ireland second, it puts their own politics first. It puts our people second, and their leaders first. It puts our companies second, their factories first. It puts our language second, theirs first. It puts their political view on a pedestal, and renders indifference to our entire culture.

I’m not racist. Please, that’s not even possible here.
I’m not xenophobic. Oh, that misses the mark entirely.
I’m not intolerant. Of ordinary immigration, that is.

But I am a Political Protectionist.
I AM opposed to blatant Political Colonialism.
And I DO care for Ireland’s future.

So, call me a little leprechaun. I have a pot of gold. And that is my experience, and advice.
But even if nothing comes of this in any significant terms, I’m very disappointed that great wrong has been done by this nation, and that it has gone almost entirely unrecognized.

~ Lord Rhindon