The Maggots are Dropping like Flies: A Requiem for Cardinal Sean Brady, as the Papal Mess Falls
by Kevin D. Annett
9 September, 2014
Life is tough these days for that growing constitutency known as deposed catholic hierarchs.
Ask Sean Brady. One moment he’s riding high as Ireland’s top papal cop, dining with Presidents and smiling for the cameras; then in a twinkling, he’s out on his ass, wondering what the bejazuz went wrong.
Brady got forcibly retired yesterday by a swift kick from a pair of papal brogans after the news broke across Ireland about a particular indiscretion of his, years ago.
Forcing an eleven year old church rape victim to sign a statement that it never happened is one of the sad but necessary jobs of any catholic priest – and they all do it, or protect those who do. It’s a canon law requirement to protect the in house kiddy rapists, after all. But when Brady did so to young Brendan Boland, who had been raped by a priest named Brendan Smyth who went on to violate kids for years afterwards, the little victim did the unusual thing years later and wrote a book about it called “Sworn to Silence”. And the whole story hit the internet this week on Sean Maguire’s Galway-based radio show featuring yours truly.
Sean Maguire, you see, is Brendan Boland’s cousin. Slam dunk.
Cardinal Brady is the fourth top Vatican official since 2013 to step down while in office after their crimes against the innocent were exposed by our Tribunal. Count ‘em: Pope Benedict (Joe the Rat Ratzinger), followed by Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone, then Jesuit head Adolfo Pachon, and now Seanie boy. Even that cute media-crafted Pope Francis, another convicted felon who likes to traffic children and even worse, is nervously talking of quitting these days.
Now don’t start pitying the motley crew. Retired clergy, especially those who prove their “right stuff” by their abominable acts, end up in cushy retirement sinecures where they can compose the kind of self-serving epistles on church reform that Martin Luther once eloquently compared to “farts laced with perfume”. But Sean Brady is no ordinary out-to-pasture crook. He’d become a major liability to Rome’s desperate PR effort to sweeten the smell of all those little corpses.
For one thing, Brady was the moving force behind Ireland’s latest cover up of mass murder, after the remains of 800 babies were discovered in a cistern at a catholic orphanage in Tuam. According to a Dublin church insider, Brady and his assistant Archbishop Dermot Martin – now his successor in crime – have kept a lid on any Gardai police inquiry into the Tuam grave site with payoffs to politicians, threats against eyewitnesses and the usual misinformation campaign in Ireland’s trained-seal corporate media.
Well that was all fine and good, and the definite papal modus operandi. But Brady got personally involved in the whole mess, which is never a good thing for someone with a tainted past. Apparently he tried pressuring some of the cops who tried acting like cops to back off from poking around the Tuam cistern. And one of the Gardai in question got royally pissed off in response and broke the real story to one of our people in Dublin.
That story, simply, is that an initial forensic examination of the babies’ remains at Tuam found that many of the skeletons had been decapitated and dismembered, in the manner of sacrificial rituals. And Brady’s determination to keep that fact quiet suggests an obvious link to the group probably responsible for the killings: the infamous catholic Ninth Circle cult whose routine, ritual slaying of newborns is based, according to participants, in Belgium, Holland, and Ireland.
With all that surfacing of those inconvenient corpses, Sean Brady had to go, and quickly, to allow the Vatican spin to win.
Be that as it may, Sean Brady belongs behind bars, along with every child raping and rapist-protecting priest in Ireland. And that’s the job of the newly-convened Common Law Court of Galway, which will be investigating and prosecuting everyone responsible for the Tuam child massacre, and its coverup.
I’m not surprised that this madness is provoking the Beast to once again lash out at our efforts and at me personally, as we move closer to ending their reign of terror. That’s what happens in a war. But we know that we are now on the winning side.
In the words of our Republican friends and ancestors, Tiocfaidh ár lá: Our Day Will Come. In truth, it already has.
Kevin Annett’s great grandfather, Daniel Edward O’Neill, , was the sole survivor of a “coffin ship” of Irish refugees who landed as an orphan at age ten in Montreal. Like any child of Erin, Kev is perfecting his back stroke in anticipation of some serious head taking.