Their Tragedy Past, it's Our Farce Now

Among civilised nations it is of course axiomatic that the terrorists can never be allowed to win; and the Imperial Haystack has once more intervened with mouth and both feet to reiterate the British Empire's victory over the disreputable likes of Arthur Griffith, Michael Collins and Éamon de Valera. In clobbering the Gordian knot that is the Irish Question, Alexander of Asia Minor compared the border between the Republic of Ireland and the Recrudescent Imperium to those between boroughs in London; the mayoralty of that metropolis being the Imperial Haystack's previous major political office. He left the city ridden with expensive vanity projects and breathing poisoned air, as befits a hotbed of traitors and citizens of nowhere; and doubtless would not hesitate to serve the heirs of Parnell in similarly forthright fashion. Though sufficiently restrained and thoughtful to avoid praising the salubrious effects of Cromwell's campaign, the Great Famine or the occasional Bloody Sunday, the Haystack's comments excited much indignation from the usual tedious quarters and were duly downplayed by a spokesbeing for the dead-eyed warden, which dispensed reassurance that the Recrudescent Imperium will solve all border-related questions thanks to the miracle of technology. After all, if databases and magic drones don't do the trick, we've still got jolly old Trident to enforce common sense.