Its OUR Sovereignty.

Day 607, 02:22 Published in Ireland Ireland by Lord Rhindon


The New World has entered a time of ruthlessness, subtlety and uncertainty. As has Ireland.

Our region specifically is under particular pressure, as this space between the two adversaries has seen intense diplomatic focus and has shouldered a great deal of passing-through military presence.

Despite the fact we may not be top-priority politically or diplomatically to the stakeholders of this worldwide struggle (thank the Irish luck we're not) - we have experienced pressure from both sides to join their respective cause, thus designating us as a *far* more prominent player emerging gullibly into bloody conflict. As appealing as that seems to some of our men, I wouldn't hesitate to say that this would become a miscalculation we would all very quickly regret.

Both PEACE and eUSA *have* attempted to rope us in. Course they have! Gathering maximum support is the very essence of war.

A wargame offer in Wales.

A wargame offer in Cork and Kerry.

A neighbor's statement of benevolence.

And in chorus together, a proclamation of their respect for Ireland's freedom of choice.

However well intended some of these proposals may have been, the fact of the matter stands: the feelings of our citizens would have, and already have, been diplomatically affected by the above situations. An unintentional side-effect, maybe, but these players are pretty clever, and I certainly wouldn't presume to discredit that.

This is the present day of The New World.

The ground is trembling underneath the march of world-class soldiers. Very powerfully. So much so that it has consequently trembled our neighboring statemen into a frenzied exhibition of smiles, laughs and gift-giving to those they once characterized as fierce enemies to their young children at bedtime.

The ramparts have been approached, the siege has commenced, and the besieged have made an attempt with us to initiate a mutual friendship, and in doing so potentially gaining us very powerful enemies.

Both have knocked on our door.

Shall we allow either in?

Neutrality is not weakness! It is strength. It is independence. It is sovereignty. All of which would be sapped viciously from the oaks of our forests should we throw aside this reality. Oh yes, it makes our overseas relations uncertain, our future unforeseeable and our lands approached by dark stormclouds....

But that, dear Irishmen, is the nature of sheer bravery itself! Would we be cowered into decisions we'd rather not make? No. Would we ever speak untruths with clenched fists and through gritted teeth, because we could not summon the courage to proclaim our independence, of either side? Absolutely not. That is not us, and it most definitely never will be.

The tidal surge of the seas have crashed against Britain's white cliffs of Dover, and have swept unchallenged into the soil, and the heart of the nation. Continuing on with great success, the ripple effect of these waves may beat against the rocks of these shores, our mainland, and may wet our grasses, but the Irish being as they are, would most certainly find itself cascading back into the heaving waters it came from, hand-in-hand with its opposing counterpart that similarly realized the absolute power of the cry of freedom, the resilience of liberty.

After all, a stout oak needs its water to thrive, and in these pouring torrents...we likewise will blossom.



I will leave you with the words of a man who compromised erroneously, who bent to the will of those he felt intimidated by.

I just sit there, and let the thoughts flood
And I remind myself it's all right, it's all good, its all love...

Its not though.

Cause there's a kink in the armor
A pot hole I'm sinkin' in, the more I think of the drama
So I stand up, I start to pace in my living room
Set my eye to the highway, knowin' that I'll play chicken soon
There's a vanity plate, with my name on it
There's a Davy Crocket hat with a masonic fat cat under it
A musket rifle spittin' at my feet
They want me to dance in the middle of the street
And I respect my elders, so I do as I'm told
But I've offset the bell curve when I do it...losin' control...
Guilty feet do have rhythm
They just dance to the wrong theme music to amuse the villain
Instead of killin', I spare the raccoon
And start fillin' sand bags as I stare at the moon
And let the thoughts flood, blessed are those who are damned
When the levy broke, how many choked on the steps of a slow dance
A staircase to a hug with no hands
Accountability hung out to dry on the line of command
We let the thoughts flood, we remind ourselves it's all right, it's all good, its all love...

Its not though.

Cause there's a kink in the armor
A pot hole I'm sinkin' in, sharing a drink with my father
It's a family affair, the vanity we share

The water line is rising and we do is stand there.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6q03an75XH0

Sovereignty for Ireland, and glory to those championing it!

Lord Rhindon
Former MoI
Junior MoFA Minister
Director of Rhindon Arms Trading
Proud Irishman