THE LYNCH-MOB VICTIM IS ALIVE AND WELL AND RARING TO GO!
Five years ago this week, the scum of Irish life set about the destruction of my good name, my financial future and my mental well-being in the most savage lynching in the history of the media in Ireland. The unrelenting orgy of hatred was psychotic in both its venom and its longevity – fully a month – and was precipitated by my public sacking by the Irish edition of The Sunday Times. The mob was too numerous to name individually, but it would be derelict of me not to identify the worst culprits as Audrey Carville of RTE’s Morning Ireland, Jon Williams of RTE News, Fintan O’Toole and Cathy Sheridan of The Irish Times, Gene Kerrigan of The Sunday Independent and Sean Donlon of the Press Council of Ireland.
Between them, they created a caricature of Kevin Myers, a racist, heartless, misogynistic bully whom the hunting-pack of curs then felt authorised to try and destroy, ruthlessly and remorselessly. But even back then, it was clear that by sacking me so brutally The Sunday Times had done enormous damage to its credibility in this country, for the plain people of Ireland knew that the allegations about me were false. The Irish editor Frank Fitzgibbon accepted this, as he was later to admit.
“(W)hen the social media Gods are angry, they demand a sacrifice and that’s what happened….It was causing problems at the highest levels and to close it down, they decided Myers must go. Now. Immediately. And it worked…. but Kevin was very badly done by, by people who claimed he was anti-Semitic of course, because that was just completely, completely and utterly wrong.”
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<Cut because Myers is long winded and the PROC doesn't like it>
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What?
There was not even the slyest or slightest of personal digs at my expense, five years to the very day that The Irish Times had set about my utter destruction. Yet instead, I am alive, the Irish edition of The Sunday Times is toast, and Seanin’s honest reporting confirms that though the heart of The Irish Times might be thoroughly rotten, in its outer orbit there clearly remain journalists of integrity and decency.
Monday, August 1, 2022, will stand as a landmark day in my life just as much as August 1, 2017, when the sewer rats of Irish journalism set out to destroy me but, as the later day duly attested, would utterly fail. Sooner or later, something will kill me, but it will not be that tawdry mob of cowards, none of whom bothered to attend the funeral of one of the greatest Irishmen of the 20th century. However, their turn will come to be judged at the bar of history, and by God, I look forward to writing their epitaphs, once the smirking hangman has emerged from beneath the trapdoor, having tugged on their twitching heels….
