Gibson’s film has acted as the thin edge of the wedge that can part the Scottish psyche from British unionism and toward kinship with its Gaelic ur-culture.

“There is no reason Ireland cannot move toward being a protectionist powerhouse once again.”

It remains a cautionary tale of how the promise of energy security can be undermined by poor governance and the silent encroachment of foreign interests.

While nothing approaching the scale of the Land War’s boycotts has yet been implemented, the trend is beginning to emerge in the psyche of the movement. Tentative probes are being made towards ostracism. 

“Ultimately, quality short-form content remains critical at this juncture. Demote it to a ‘pernicious release valve’ at your peril.”

“Ireland is really a collection of secret societies. For a rootless young man like myself, this had a strong allure.”

While endlessly intellectually stimulating, informative, and funny, I can’t help but come to the conclusion that Gaeltwitter acts as an incredibly pernicious release valve or playpen

From the ruins of colonization and the drift of postmodern decline, a manorial republic can rise. One that is neither slave to foreign capital nor subject to bureaucratic inertia.

"From Deák to Griffith, the fight was never just for land—it's for the soul of a nation."

Pay respects to your nation and wear your commitment to an Ireland Free and Gaelic on your sleeves.

“Nationalism had proven to be less fickle than Marx imagined; it represented a competitor, capable of accruing the loyalty of the masses.”

The nation-state is exactly what the nationalist fears Europe to be: a centralist regime established upon an artificially constructed identity.

The first instalment of an essay on Friedrich List and Karl Marx, which views their work in light of the revolutionary tumult of the 20th century.

In many ways, we Gaels today are like those lost otters Ó Rathaille laments.

The Gaelstát will, as a mirror, reflect the old image of Ireland. The gallant image of Ireland, not the vulgar.

From this point, it is no longer a deep artistic exploration of our day and age, it is just a self-congratulatory middle-class neoliberal fable.

Moreover, I must remind this publication—despite its Catholic-leaning editorial stance—that St. Patrick was the founder of the ancient and esteemed Church of Ireland

Our ancestors did not suffer so that we could throw away the gift of nationality.

Upon completion of my degree, my job hunt was stifled by a persistent anxiety that a friend or a girl I liked would see me in the debased condition of employment, a distress intensified by right-wingers (and my parents) telling me to get a job.

He felt like a gazelle adorned with a Francis Bacon death-mask, bereft of gas in the tank, caught betwixt a Lion pride with their crosshairs set on his jugular and a cackle of spotted hyenas eyeing up his pancreas