Hello Everyone!

So, If you follow me on instagram, you’ll know what this episode (and the next two) are going to be about: my book.

This one, specifically, will go deeper into the “why” of the book.

About ten years ago, my aunt bought me a book called the Eyewitness book of Dogs, written by Dr. Bruce Fogle (who, confusingly, is a vet with a Doctorate, rather than a human-medicine doctor).

This, depending on how you look at it, was either a brilliant or terrible idea.

Why? Because I became obsessed! I’m good at that, becoming obsessed.

Anyhow, this book was (and is, because I still have it!) EXCELLENT!! It started off talking about the History of dogs, then goes through physical stuff about them, then about considerations if you are interested in getting a dog; but the main of the book (or, at least, my favourite part), is a section where there are a ridiculous number of breeds detailed. Obviously, the entries are very short for each; he doesn’t want the book going on for ever!!! So each breed has around a paragraph or two.

Everything from a Chihuahua to a Slovensky Cuvac is covered. There’s something crazy like 400 or more breeds covered.

Anyhow, this set in me a deep love for dogs. This only grew over my secondary school days (for my American listeners, high school equivalent here in Ireland). Then, I can’t remember exactly when, but I think it was toward the end of the Lockdown; That book surfaced again. AAND I was flicking through it to see where the Irish breeds were, just out of curiosity.

I knew there were two or three. Little did I expect to find 8 (there is the Kerry Beagle, as well, but that’s not in the book).

My eyes fell upon the Irish terrier, and I absolutely adored it, straight away. To me, it represented the epitome of proper, controlled Irish masculinity.

Anyways, the big thing for me was, it got me thinking: How on earth can Irish people go through life maybe with four or five Labrador’s or Golden Retrievers and never even hear of the Likes of the Glen of Imaal terrier, built to perfectly fit the niche of Dachshunds, but with the extra hardness needed to live in Ireland. Or the Irish Red and White Setter, which was actually the Original of the Irish Setter that everyone and their mother knows!

So, I went on a dog hunt... wait, that sounds bad. I mean I went to search them out. Then, the summer of about 3 or four years ago, I went to an agricultural show local to me. By the way, if you’re not Irish, even if you’re English, the REAL agricultural show experience is something you won’t be familiar with; so I can do an episode on that at some point.

At that show, I met a man who happened to have, with him, two of the self-same Irish Terriers I had fawned over in the book. It turned out that these were, indeed, purebred Irish Terriers, and were actually show dogs. Willie O’Meara, from South Tipperary, (and I’m not gonna be more specific than that for privacy’s sake) had just opened a world to me that I would, again, become obsessed with; something for which I will be eternally grateful. I say eternally, because, unfortunately, Willie died, rather suddenly, in August 2024.

Anyhow; he and his wife Jenny introduced me to the world of Dog Shows. Bad move. Well, actually, FANTASTIC move.

I got to meet every sort of person and EVERY kind of dog. As I mentioned earlier, there is a huge gap (or bias, if you want to call it that) in the world of Dogs.

By the way, I’m gonna get to the other breeds that aren’t dogs, just give me a sec!!

Anyhow; Going to these dog shows were massively eye-opening to me. It wasn’t just the typical Golden Retriever, Border Collie, and stuff like that. Oh no! There was everything from the Russian Toy Terrier to the Estrela Mountain Dog; the odd Maremma Sheepdog, and even a Cane Corso or two. These shows set something of a fire in me, and I felt it important that as many people as possible should know that “dogs” doesn’t stretch to Retrievers and Doodles. Crossbreed versus Purebred, by the way, is a debate that I’m not willing to get into in this episode; though I will say that the latter has far more benefits to it.

NOT LEAST, the chance to have a living, breathing part of our Emerald Isle’s heritage in your back yard, or, even, your home!!

I am a man of going on tangents; down rabbit-holes, you could say. (Now I think of it, that’s a very apt metaphor since my favourite breed is the Irish Terrier). My attendance at Dog shows, and being exposed to the Soft Coated Wheaten, the Irish Terrier, and the spunky Kerry Blue, set a question in my mind: What other breeds are there?

I knew for a fact that there were Connemara Ponies, as I grew up with them here on our family farm where I live. Beyond that, I knew there were Irish Draught Horses. That was about all I knew.

Well, here’s the full list (as they appear in the book, by the way):

1. Irish Terrier

2. Irish Moiled Cattle

3. Kerry Bog Pony

4. Kerry Cow

5. Kerry Blue Terrier

6. Dexter

7. Connemara Pony

8. Glen of Imaal Terrier

9. Irish Cob

10. Old Irish Goat

11. Irish Setter

12. Irish Red and White Setter

13. Droimeann

14. Irish Draught

15. Cladóir

16. Native Irish Honeybee

17. Galway Sheep

18. Irish Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier

19. Irish Wolfhound

20. Irish Water Spaniel

21. Kerry Beagle

That’s 21; So yeah, quite a few! I decided that, since I was (allegedly) good at writing, and it was something I was passionate about, AND I couldn’t seem to be gainfully employed in another way... I would write a book! So I opened a canva file, designed the cover (yes, I realise that’s the last thing you’re supposed to be doing!) and got recording podcast episodes.

The reasons for this was twofold. Firstly, I wanted as many listeners as possible to fall in love with the Irish breeds; much as I have, myself. Only problem is I soon realised I only have 2 consistent listeners to the podcast... THIS MUST CHANGE!!!!

Anyhow, The second reason was, in short, contacts. As the phrase goes, it’s who you know, not what you know. Plus, I thought people who loved the breeds as much as I do would be pretty cool friends to have. So, after doing each breed’s episode, I sent them to as many of the breed societies, internationally, as I could. And it worked! To this day, my Native Breeds series is by far the most popular; probably because I actually pushed the episodes (something I’m not great at).

This lead to me getting invited to a few meet-ups and such, and so I have many contacts, now! A lot of them will feature in the “A word from the Owner” section of the book... But hey, I’ve started talking about the inside of the book! That’s a next episode issue!

Like this if you can, Tell me what you did and didn’t like, follow me on Instagram @liamblakepodcaster AND SUBSTACK and, most importantly of all, tell EVERYONE about the History and Heritage Podcast, BYEEEE

So, by now, you’ll probably know that Keir Starmer (above left) has announced that he’s leaving the Office of the Prime Minister over in London. Naturally enough, he has said he’ll stay on until a successor is appointed (a.k.a as long as he can).

If you remember, a few months ago, the 18th of February to be exact, I did a podcast episode on the Irish-Born Prime Minister, Arthur Wellesley (which I’ll post the link too, at the end) ; Well, he wasn’t the first!

Enter; William Petty-Fitzmaurice, known to history as the Earl of Shelburne (Above, right).

Now, being Anglo-Irish in the Mid-to-late 1700s was certainly an… interesting place to be! For a start, as part of the aristocracy, he had a long, and I mean LONG full title:

“William Petty-Fitzmaurice; 2nd Earl of Shelburne; 1st Marquess of Lansdowne; Viscount Fitzmaurice.” That's one heck of a mouthful! Honestly, I’m just gonna call him WPF or Shelburne from now on/

Anyhow, WPF was born on the 2nd of May 1737, in Dublin. As you can probably guess, he wasn’t particularly liked by the locals, and even a move to the southeast of the Country didn’t help. Between the ages of four and fourteen, he was shipped off by indifferent parents to be raised by a curmudgeonly grandfather in a Tower house in North Kerry that has been described “bleak” and “dank”. This home was surrounded by peat bogs and was so isolated that Shelburne later claimed he learned “nothing”.

He grew up with the grim memories of his grandfather, Thomas Fitzmaurice, as a tyrant whose family lived in permanent fear of him. Shelburne later claimed he learned nothing between the ages of four and fourteen, and he spent the rest of his life trying to unlearn the habits of his unhappy Irish youth.

So, yeah. Not the greatest start for the young man.

You might wonder why he had a double-barrel surname (Petty-Fitzmaurice). In a word: Money.

The name Petty entered the family through his grandmother, Anne Petty, the daughter of the famous Sir William Petty, the Surveyor General of Ireland who conducted the “Down Survey”. In short, the “Down” Survey was the first major attempt by the British to map what was, at the time, their territory of Ireland.

The Down Survey (From the Roaringwater Journal Website)

In 1751, John Fitzmaurice (WPF’s dad) inherited the vast Petty estates (including lands in County Kerry and High Wycombe) after his mother’s brother’s all died without heirs. Upon succeeding to these estates, John changed the family name to Petty. In fact, he reportedly only inherited the Petty fortune on the specific condition that he adopt the name, to keep the Petty lineage alive. While the Prime Minister is often officially recorded as William Petty, he is frequently referred to as Petty-Fitzmaurice to acknowledge the union of these two powerful houses.

The Fitzmaurice side of the family was one of the most powerful and enduring dynasties in Irish history, serving as the premier family in County Kerry for over 500 years. They arrived in Ireland with the Normans and established a base in North Kerry in the mid-13th century.

For centuries, they held the titles of Lord of Kerry and Baron of Lixnaw. They were described as “great survivors,” maintaining their lands through conquest, advantageous marriages, and shifting religious loyalties across major conflicts, including the Cromwellian and Jacobite wars.

The marriage of the Prime Minister’s grandfather, Thomas Fitzmaurice (remember, the cruel guy?) (1st Earl of Kerry), to Anne Petty in 1692 was a landmark event that merged aristocratic prestige with “new money”.

His paternal ancestors, the ancient Hiberno-Norman Fitzmaurices, actually converted from Catholicism to the Protestant Church of Ireland in the late 17th century specifically to protect their vast County Kerry estates from Crown forfeiture. In a twist of fate, so to speak, the lands that the Petty family mapped, which made their money, was land confiscated by Oliver Cromwell (A protestant) from the Catholics in Ireland, which the Fitzmaurices would have been at the time!

Anne’s father, WPF’s mother, was a polymath (a.k.a brainbox) who had roughly 270,000 acres in South Kerry alone (for reference, that’s just under 23% of the land area of the Entire county!).

Before this marriage, the Fitzmaurices had status but, in a setup that any of you familiar with rich people will be familiar with, they didn’t have much cash! the Petty marriage brought a settlement of £10,000 (equivalent to over €2.3 million today).

However, (possibly connected to my RECENT ARTICLE, Shelburne himself frequently lamented his “unhappy” and “neglected” childhood in Ireland, claiming his parents were indifferent to him and, as I said earlier, that he spent his adult life trying to “unlearn” the habits he picked up during those early years in a “godforsaken” North Kerry tower house.

The House (Google Images)

The family eventually split into two distinct branches: the Earls of Kerry (the senior line, which eventually squandered its fortune and went extinct in 1818) and the Earls of Shelburne ( the branch we’ll be following, which thrived and eventually inherited the senior titles.

The family’s transition to London was catalyzed by a massive change in their fortune. In 1750, the family moved to England, and in 1751, William’s father, John Fitzmaurice, inherited the vast Petty estates from his maternal uncles. As a condition of this inheritance, the family adopted the name Petty, and William’s father was eventually created the 1st Earl of Shelburne.

Despite the move to London to reestablish the family, William remained emotionally adrift . His parents maintained a policy of “real distance,” leaving him to wander the lonely and dangerous streets of London for several years without much guidance or a decent allowance.

In 1755, he entered Christ Church, Oxford, a period he found “stultified” (essentially, he felt trapped doing nothing fun) and deeply unpleasant. While at Oxford, he began to feel the sting of social hierarchy; despite his wealth and aristocratic title, he was often treated as a “second or third class citizen” because he was Irish. This social alienation followed him into his political career, where he was frequently mocked as an upstart Irishman. His military service, which began shortly after he left Oxford to escape his detestable home, was his true entry into English public life.

Desperate to escape what he described as a “detestable” and “neglected” home life, William Petty-Fitzmaurice sought refuge in the military.

He enlisted in the 20th Regiment of Foot, a unit famously commanded by James Wolfe, a leader who became a significant influence and even a father figure to the young Irishman. Wolfe was known for demanding a rigorous program of self-education from his officers, often grilling them on philosophy and literature rather than just military tactics, which deeply impressed the intellectually hungry Shelburne. His first major taste of combat was the amphibious raid on Rochefort, France, in 1757.

This expedition was ultimately a disappointment, as the British forces withdrew without making a serious attempt to capture the town, but it served as a brutal introduction to large-scale military operations. Following this, Shelburne was sent to Germany to fight in the Seven Years’ War, where his reputation truly began to take shape. Shelburne distinguished himself with personal bravery at the Battle of Minden in 1759 and the Battle of Kloster Kampen in 1760. His conduct at Kloster Kampen was so impressive that it earned him an appointment as aide-de-camp to the newly crowned King George III, carrying the rank of Colonel.

Painting of a battle in Seven Years War (From Encyclopaedia Britannica Website)

When Wolfe departed for his famous campaign in Quebec, Shelburne transferred to the staff of the Marquess of Granby, serving as an aide-de-camp during some of the most intense fighting of the conflict.

This meteoric rise, achieved when he was only 23 years old, sparked a massive political scandal in London; senior members of the cabinet and high-ranking peers were outraged that a “young, upstart Irishman” had been promoted ahead of much more experienced officers.

In protest of this perceived favoritism, the Duke of Richmond even resigned his own post in the royal household. While his active service in the field effectively ended after the Seven Years’ War, he continued to rise through the ranks by seniority, eventually reaching the rank of full General in 1783. Even in his later political years, the spectre of his military past occasionally resurfaced in violent ways.

In 1780, he fought a notorious duel with the Scottish MP William Fullarton, who had taken offense to comments Shelburne made in the House of Lords. Shelburne was wounded in the groin during the exchange, but he famously maintained his composure, reassuring his panicked aides by saying, “I don’t think Lady Shelburne will be any the worse for it”. This mix of battlefield courage and aristocratically cool defiance remained a hallmark of his character throughout his life.

Following his return from the battlefields of Europe as a war hero, Shelburne’s entry into the shark tank of Westminster was as meteoric as it was controversial. In 1760, while still serving abroad, the twenty-three-year-old was returned as a Member of Parliament for Wycombe, but before he could even take his seat, the death of his father in 1761 propelled him into the House of Lords.

He arrived in London not as a humble backbencher, but as a personal favorite of the young King George III—an association that immediately confirmed him, in the eyes of his peers, as an “upstart” and a social pariah in the eyes of the established English elite. His early role was that of a high-stakes power broker, acting as the crucial, secret link between the King’s mentor, Lord Bute, and the veteran political operator Henry Fox.

King George the Third (Wikipedia)

This rapid ascent to the inner circle of power came with a heavy price. Shelburne was already being described as one of the “suppressed characters of English history,” a man of “super-abilities” who somehow managed to alienate almost everyone he worked with. By the age of twenty-six, he was appointed the youngest-ever President of the Board of Trade, where he first began to grapple with the brewing storm in the American colonies. However, his independent streak and refusal to play the standard political games led to his resignation after just a few months, a pattern of “timid and rash” behavior that would characterize his entire career.

Seeking a more formidable ally, Shelburne aligned himself with the legendary William Pitt the Elder, becoming his protégé and eventually his Southern Secretary in 1766. In this high-ranking role, Shelburne was tasked with managing the increasingly volatile relationship with the American colonists. While his colleagues favored coercion and taxation, Shelburne—deeply influenced by long conversations with Adam Smith during a journey from Edinburgh to London—began advocating for a more visionary, conciliatory approach.

He began to believe that the flow of goods and free trade were far more vital to the Empire than military submission. It was during these years that the title of “The Jesuit” was firmly fixed to his face. Remember, the Government in London at this point were quite Anti-Catholic, so this was definitely an insult!

His colleagues found his manner inscrutable; he was seen as a man who “hided” from his friends and foes alike, using an elaborate, almost offensive flattery to mask an aggressive and “vituperative” (harshly abusive, scathing, or full of bitter, angry criticism) temper . By 1768, political cartoons were already depicting him as “Malagrida,” a duplicitous plotter who was so notorious for his perceived falsehoods that Horace Walpole famously quipped he “could only deceive by telling the truth”.

This reputation for insincerity, combined with the jealousy sparked by his rapid rise and his “un-English” Irish roots, meant that by the time he reached his thirties, he was already the most distrusted man in British public life.

Following the sudden death of Lord Rockingham in July 1782, King George III—who preferred Shelburne’s independent stance—invited him to form a government. This appointment immediately fractured the Whig party; heavyweight figures like Charles James Fox and Edmund Burke resigned in protest, refusing to serve under a man they viewed as an arrogant “upstart Irishman” and a duplicitous tool of the King. To fill the void, Shelburne made the historic move of appointing a 23-year-old William Pitt the Younger as his Chancellor of the Exchequer.

COME BACK FOR PART TWO NEXT WEEK!

Now, unfortunately (as much as Troy Parrott tried to do otherwise) my own Beloved Republic of Ireland were knocked out in the Playoff Semi-Finals (we’re not going to talk about the horrific end of Sammie Szmodics’ night, or the Siren that magically only sounded during Ireland’s penalties…).

Sammie Szmodics unconscious. Not even a Free kick was given (credit Google images).

But, even if these had blown up into major controversies (they didn’t), it wouldn’t be the first time! There was the hand of Thierry Henry denying our ticket to South Africa 2010 but, the focus of today’s episode comes from a time when I was not yet 1 year old:

Saipan; May 2002.

By now, everyone knows “Keano” (Roy Keane) to be… quite an opinionated and passionate individual, shall we say. Nowhere was this more obvious, or more headline grabbing, than at a pre-World Cup (one we actually qualified for!) tour in the Northern Mariana Islands.

(Roy Keane. Image credit “Spiked”)

But, of course, it wasn’t a sudden blow up; or, at least, there was, years earlier, another version:

in 1992, The Republic of Ireland played in a competition called “The U.S. Cup”. The manager at the time was Jack Charlton, their young star was Roy Keane, and their Captain was… Mick McCarthy!!

Now, professional sports was, to a degree, in it’s infancy in 1992. Many of the lads wouldn’t have behaved in a way that today we would call “professionally”. One day, on the tour, a group of the players boarded the bus, and to say they were smashed, scuttered, “ar meisce”, as we say As Gaeilge, would be putting it very midly. In short, the men were drunk. While Mick, as captain, wasn’t exactly pleased, Roy Keane was absolutely and totally fuming!

He felt that the team operated like a pub team rather than elite, professional representatives of their nation. And This was to be only the very beginning of the difficulties.

Three years later, and the Republic of Ireland are about to take on Austria in a “Euro 96” qualifier. Now, anyone and their dog, today, could tell you how professional sports star have legions of nutritionists dieticians and every sort of a thing to make sure they were in peak condition. This is the kind of setting that Roy Keane would have absolutely loved. However, again, the mindset of many in the Republic of Ireland camp was far different.

The day before this fixture, some of the players had heard of a thing called “Harry’s Challenge”. The “challenge” was simple: eat an enormous plate of fish and chips, finish it, and win a free dessert. Again, a reminder, this is before a European Championship Qualifier! Even in 1995, surely they knew that it’s not the best preparation to be eating as much as you can, followed by dessert?! For someone as driven as Roy, watching his teammates partake in such a trivial thing, which would negatively affect their performance, was just, in short, confusing!

The next year, and we find Keane at the U.S. Cup again. Or rather, we don’t. According to the media, Keane just went missing, and a massive manhunt ensued. But the reality, of course, was MASSIVELY DIFFERENT.

According to Keane, he told Manchester United (of whom he had just been made Captain) that he was Injured or unavailable. They passed this information on to the FAI (Football Association of Ireland), who then…. apparently did nothing; or, at least, the word never got to Mick McCarthy, who was by then the Manager. He was left to flounder with Media questions he didn’t know the answer to, with the FAI being less than helpful.

But, hey! This article is meant to be about 2002! Well, we’re just about there!

in a World Cup qualifier against the Netherlands, The men of the Republic of Ireland Soccer team are fed, not complex carbohydrate-rich meals for fuel but… Cheese sandwiches!

Not the Actual sandwiches (Source: Google Images)

Keane and his teammates are expected to run literally kilometres on the pitch chasing or attacking world-class opposition, and their fuel is, essentially a packed lunch. Surprisingly, they end up drawing, and, after beating them in the Home game in Dublin, qualifying!

Was Keane being an awkward whinge, or was his professionalism the driver for Ireland’s qualification?

Well, there is a school of thought that say that Keane was not just the driver, but literally everything that got us to that World Cup.

Speaking of the World Cup:

It all “kicked off”, (pardon the Pun) in May 2002. Mick McCarthy, the manager, had organised a pre-tournament tour to the Island of Saipan beginning on the volcanic island of Saipan in the Northern Mariana Islands.

While McCarthy viewed the Saipan leg as a “jolly” for rest and recreation—complete with barbecues and silly shirts—Keane viewed it as putting a “Ferrari in a mini race,” where his Manchester United standards were incompatible with the FAI’s “that’ll do” approach.

The Two Men

Upon arrival, the squad found there was no training gear, no footballs, and no bibs, forcing them to train in casual clothes for initial sessions. Keane described the training surface in Saipan as “shocking,” “disgraceful,” and “dangerous,” famously comparing it to training on a car park or “bloody rock”.

The first major row occurred during a practice game where Keane berated goalkeeping coach Packie Bonner and backup keeper Alan Kelly for wanting to finish training early.

On Wednesday, May 22, 2002, the tension exploded into a public crisis following Keane’s bombshell interviews with Tom Humphries of The Irish Times and Paul Kimmage of the Sunday Independent, in which he aired his deep frustrations regarding the team’s amateurish setup. Although Keane believed the interviews would not be published until after the tournament, Humphries published the “dynamite” content immediately.

So, what happened during that meeting

McCarthy confronted Keane in front of the squad, holding up the Irish Times interview and accusing Keane of faking an injury during the second leg of the World Cup playoff against Iran. Keane’s ten-minute response was described by Niall Quinn as “clinical” and “earth-shattering”.

On the evening of May 23, McCarthy called a team meeting to confront Keane in front of the entire squad. Keane told McCarthy: “Mick, you’re a liar… you’re a f****ng w****r. I didn’t rate you as a player, I don’t rate you as a manager, and I don’t rate you as a person. You can stick your World Cup up your a**e”.

Senior players Steve Staunton and Niall Quinn publicly backed McCarthy, while players like Gary Breen and David Connolly privately visited Keane’s room in sympathy.

The aftermath of this tirade effectively launched a national “civil war,” splitting the country between those who agreed that sport should be played with some level of professionalism (“Team Keane”) and those who prioritised loyalty to the manager of the National team. (“Team McCarthy”).

While the rest of the squad headed to Japan, Keane was famously photographed checking in, alone, at Saipan airport, headed home to walk his dog.

Image credit: BBC Sport

Ireland ultimately reached the Last 16, drawing with eventual finalists Germany along the way, before losing to Spain on penalties.

When he was sent home from the World Cup training camp, he retired from the team but eventually made a comeback under manager Brian Kerr in 2004.

His final international appearance actually occurred the following year on September 7, 2005, in a 1-0 World Cup qualifying defeat to France at Lansdowne Road. He officially retired from international football a month later and from club football in 2006. After that, he became the Roy that we all either love or hate because, frankly “That’s his Job!!”

A haunting “what-if” remains central to the incident’s legacy; Dean Kiely, the substitute goalie at the time, claimed the squad would have been “much better set” with their world-class captain in the middle of the park, leaving historians and fans alike to wonder how much further that talented team could have gone.

Almost the same as the “What If” of if Sammie Szmodics had not been knocked out, or if Stepán Chaloupek had been sent off…

Anyhow, enjoy the most important competition in the most-watched sport in the world… if you can!

BYEEE!!

PS: I’m aware I didn’t touch on the 2025 Movie “Saipan” I felt this was too long!

Look back through the history of the world, of Humanity. I challenge you to find a single moment, in all that time, when we have had more self-help books, more people easily available at the press of a button, or the tap of a finger. Telling us exactly what to do, how to do it, and why to do it. “Take this smoothie”, “do this Yoga Routine”, “Buy this car”, “Party as much as you can, YOLO!”

Why, then, are there record levels of unhappiness, depression, and mental Illness?

Stock Image

What if they’re wrong? What if the answer is not a new-fangled supplement, or the 150th meditation app on your phone. What if many people today are smiling “the smile of death”. What if (and science suggests evidence for this), the answer is a framework, a relationship, that reaches beyond the temporal, mundane everyday drudgery of life, to a supernatural dimension; and has done for around 2000 years?

Now, the quick sceptics among you will realise instantly why I picked that figure, and be rolling your eyes “Ah, Liam, not this again!!”. But, bear with me, because, as I said, “though it be madness, yet there be method in it!” (That’s a Shakespeare quote, by the way!)

Researchers at the Pew Research Center recently did a survey of 26 countries. In the U.S.A alone, they found that 36% of Religious Adults who actually practice (like, attend services/mass) describe themselves as “Very Happy”. In the same survey, the numbers for both the Inactive religious (say they are religious but don’t attend services etc.) and the “Unaffiliated” (atheist/agnostic) hovers around 25%. And it’s not just the US. The Actively religious were “happier” than the other groups in over half of the countries surveyed. In Australia, the figure was 45% versus 33%, in favour of Active religious over the Unaffiliated.

Even in regard to community involvement, the same survey showed that, while both groups were larger, there was still a massive disparity; again, with the Actively religious getting “top honours”.

Now; I am of course not saying that if you become a practicing Catholic, all your troubles will disappear, of course not. Even within Catholic Spirituality, there is a phenomenon known as the Dark night of the Soul. But that’s to heavy for me, go research it!

Now, you might be saying: Oh, well it’s just the placebo effect, from social capital (meeting people in a group setting). To be honest, the research document admitted there is some truth to that. But, while that is true, the real source is the “architecture of reality” that these people inhabit, so to speak.

But why? Well, most of society tells us that you can be the Architect of your own truth. However, that, if you think of it, puts the entire weight on your own shoulders: You are the Architect, Planner and builder! Unsurprisingly, this is exhausting.

A highly secular worldview often says that individual feelings are the highest form of moral compass. Truth, in this framework, becomes entirely subjective, rather than objective. This places the individual person at the undisputed centre of the Universe.

On paper, that sounds incredible. In reality, it’s terrifying.

If your feelings fluctuate, so does your baseline morality, and, often, the very meaning of life itself can be altered. How can anyone be expected to keep this mental effort of self-assurance without going absolutely crazy?

And, again, the statistics of my own Generation (Gen Z) bear this out. In our technologically saturated, DIY world, again, the instances of Mental Illness and difficulty are through the roof.

When a young adult today is welcomed to the real world, it is pivotal that they have a solid foundation. Many, because of our culture, do not. The solution? Phone usage, leading to phone addiction (which I need not tell you is a serious problem in todays society).

I mentioned the books, podcasts, smoothies, etc. Another thing that went viral a few years back was the “just speak your reality into the mirror and you’ll believe it”.

However, there is an alternative.

It is an anchor, like a mountaineer nailing his harness into solid rock rather than loose rubble. As outlined in the survey above, the peace God gives is not just fleeting; if it was, those responses would not have been as stark and across the board as they are!

The concept that what actually breaks a person is the resistance to suffering—not the suffering itself—is the foundational pillar of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) of mainstream psychology. Catholicism teaches that pain can be united with the suffering of Christ.

This reframing creates meaning out of hardship, buffering against the despair of senseless suffering. As concretely evidenced earlier, studies published on spirituality and mental health show that finding positive meaning in illness and trials is correlated with higher life satisfaction and lower depressive symptoms. Conversely, “negative religious coping” (e.g., feeling abandoned by God) is linked to higher distress.

The truth of Catholicism is simple: You are loved, and your ultimate destination is God himself, Love Himself, in Heaven.

With that mindset, it is simple to see why the respondents were happier who were actively religious. They realised they had somewhere to go, somewhere that, if it was just a psychological trick, would have worn thin in it’s effects in very short order.

Also, Catholicism gives very strong advice on how, for example, to deal with suffering. Suffering is not something to be pushed through blindly, and conquered; rather it is like the actions of a physical therapist after an injury.

Say, for example, you’ve broken your shoulder badly. A proper physical therapist isn’t going to suggest you flex your toes to help, rather, they are going to likely suggest movement or weight-bearing exercises for that shoulder. It’s about preparation for the relief after this brief (albeit sometimes intense) moment of struggle.

Catholicism offers a way to suffer well.

Now, you may be thinking “doesn’t Catholicism just essentially say “pray the illness away?”” Absolutely not.

Let me introduce you to two short examples, then a longer, more specific, in-depth one.

First, Venerable Rutilio Grande. If you are a teacher, and/or have ever felt burnout, this is the future saint for you!

In short, Fr. Grande (a Jesuit Priest) was from El Salvador. Born in the late 1920s, he had a typical upbringing, then decided to join the Priesthood as a young man. All was going swimmingly, until the 1950s. Fr. Rutilio, based in Panama, started to be overwhelmed by the load laid on him combining his priestly duties and his teaching work.

To cut a long story short, Fr. Grande had a major mental breakdown. in fact, he had a two-stage mental breakdown:

He, firstly, could not cope with the extreme anxiety, brought on by the pressure mentioned above. a catatonic state, (a medical/psychiatric condition where a person is awake but becomes completely physically "stuck" or detached from their surroundings. Many people can lose the ability to move, speak, or react, though they may also experience bursts of restless, purposeless agitation). It was during this “purposeless agitation”, that the second common symptom unintelligible speech, started. Fr. Grande would essentially, start babbling incoherent words or phrases found in no dictionary.

The second was a crisis of scrupulosity, during which Rutilio was terrified that his doubts about his vocation meant his priestly ordination was invalidated (that he wasn’t a real priest).

In both these cases, Fr. Rutilio’s suffering was met with compassion from his Jesuit brothers. Fr. Rutilio’s order, in a move that shows that faith an science are not mutually exclusive, but rather two signs of the same coin, sought admission, for him, to a clinic where he was treated and eventually recovered. Later, he spent three months in a psychiatric ward undergoing treatment for severe mental illness and delusions before returning to his pastoral work in El Salvador.

Unfortunately,helping the poor became an act of political opposition because it threatened a system built on peasant labor and elite wealth.

On March 12, 1977, Father Grande was traveling from Aguilares to the village of El Paisnal, El Salvador, to celebrate Mass alongside two companions: an elderly sacristan, Manuel Solórzano and a 16-year-old parish helper, Nelson Rutilio Lemus (16). Their vehicle was ambushed by Salvadoran security forces who fired a barrage of bullets, killing all three.

Secondly, Venerable Matt Talbot (1856-1925), a Dublin man.

If you have ever felt like a slave to a habit, or that you are “too far gone” to be loved by God, Matt Talbot’s life should give you an answer. Matt lived in a world of gritty, brutal poverty. By the time he was only 13 years old, he was a chronic alcoholic, drinking the “backwash” out of returned beer bottles just to get a fix. For more than 15 years, every penny he earned working the docks went straight to the pub. He hit a moral bottom, so to speak; so low that he once stole the fiddle of a blind street musician and sold it for a single drink.

in 1884, when Matt was 28 years old, he was standing outside a pub, broke and shaking, and for the first time, his friends refused, point blank, to buy him a pint. The humiliation caused him to think, essentially (this is not a quote from him) “What the heck am I doing?!” He went home to his mother and announced he was taking “the pledge” to stop drinking.

His priest understood something about the brain that science would later confirm: an addicted mind cannot comprehend the word “forever”. He suggested for Matt to swear off alcohol for just 3 months—a bite-sized, manageable horizon.

To survive the agony of withdrawal without modern rehab, Matt constructed a new “architecture” for his life:

• He forced himself out of bed at 5 A.M. every morning for Mass before heading to the docks for back-breaking manual labor.

• He systematically replaced the chaotic “spikes” of alcohol with the slow, grueling endurance of daily discipline and prayer.

Matt died on the street in 1925 while walking to Mass. When the hospital staff removed his clothes, they discovered something shocking: he had tightly wrapped heavy, rusted iron chains around his torso and limbs.

To a modern skeptic, this looks like madness. But Matt wore those chains as a physical anchor to reality. He knew the monster of his addiction was only sleeping, and the chains were a physical reminder of his need for grace and a penance for the blind man whose fiddle he had stolen.

So, why not turn to Matt when you start to think “Do I have to? He stopped asking for the bare minimum and started asking, “What is the maximum I can offer out of love?”. His life proves that while we may feel like meat machines, we are actually integrated circuits where putting the soul in order through discipline literally orders the body.

Also, there is scientific proof from the real, historical world world itself: an ear specialist, Dr. Alfred Tomatis, visited a Benedictine Monastery in the 1960s. There was (and still is, in some places), for centuries, a Practice called “Gregorian Chant”, where the Psalms and other Catholic prayers are chanted, mostly in a language called Latin, in a community.

Not the actual monastery.

Anyway; Dr. Tomatis visited these monks because they were complaining of hearing trouble and fatigue, and other things. He investigated, and found that nothing had changed; no Illnesses, no food changes; Well, one thing had changed. After Vatican II, the Prior (the monk in charge) had decided to stop the practice of Gregorian Chant. Dr. Tomatis’ prescription was simple: Re-start Gregorian Chant.

Almost instantaneously, the monks’ hearing all improved, their appetite returned, and their fatigue disappeared.

Now, I want to make one thing very clear. While I myself am a practicing Catholic, and genuinely believe you should be, too, I am in no way trying to coerce you.

Honestly, I want to let God “do the talking”, so to speak. Think of Thomas “The Doubter”. Jesus did not stand starkly on the other side of the room and shout at Thomas when he did not believe. Instead, Jesus warmly opened his arms, showed him the signs of his love for him (and, by extension, us) and invited him to literally touch Him. God, in the Catholic understanding of Him, meets people exactly where their trauma and skepticism are located. Many people believe they must be perfect or “happy” to be loved, often due to childhood experiences where value was tied to perfect output.

Christ specifically sought out the broken and the sick, not the healthy. Again, I want to emphasise my point that the scientific and the religious are not mutually exclusive. It literally says so in the Book of Sirach. Also, God created the physical world, so the laws of neurology and chemistry are also His design. Seeking medical help is not a lack of faith; rather, God often works through the hands of physicians and “medicines from the earth” (that’s a biblical quote by the way), to heal the physical brain while God’s Grace heals the soul.

Catholicism also has this amazing objective removal of guilt for any wrongdoing, known as Confession. Being Catholic means you don’t have to carry your past failures forever because there is a higher authority with the jurisdiction to forgive you. St. Faustina Kowalska (from Poland, in the 1930s) received inner reassurance that God does not even remember sins that have been confessed, in the “Sacrament of Reconciliation” to use a fancy phrase.

Catholicism, much as it has been portrayed, by some, is not as falling in love with a rulebook, but entering a transformative relationship where rules (like fidelity in a marriage) are a natural response to being deeply loved.

Does God have your permission to love you, as you are, right now?

A few weeks ago, I finished a series on The Sack of Baltimore. I’m still getting used to the whole SubStack thing, so: here is my re-presentation of the series!

The Sack was, first of all, in Baltimore, Co. Cork, Ireland; Hence the name. For those of you who are unaware, it happened in 1631

.

Now, Baltimore was, until a few years before The Sack, ruled by the O’Driscoll clan. The last of these great rules being a guy called Fineen, known as “Fineen of the Ships”. This is, in part, because Baltimore is a coastal town, with a huge fleet of fishing boats providing the economic success of the town.

The main “crop”, so to speak, was pilchards:

And this had made Fineen VERY VERY rich indeed.

However, in 1601, Fineen was one of the last few Catholic chiefs to hold out at the Battle of Kinsale. They were defeated by the English, despite attempted help from the Spanish, and that was that.

Baltimore was taken and used as a Settlement for Puritans, Led by Thomas Crooke. Fineen O’Driscoll had actually managed to keep hold of the lands (technically), and even had been knighted. Thomas Crooke, in 1610, signed a 21 year lease to the lands around Baltimore.

Sir Thomas Crooke.

Anyhow, the short version is that in 1631, EXACTLY the day the lease ended, a Dutch-Moroccan called Murat Reis attacked with around 230 men, and cleared all the fishermen and “factory” workers from the town in one fell swoop.

But it wasn’t Fineen who would benefit. Instead a Catholic Lawyer from Waterford, Walter Coppinger, had signed the lease, insofar as once Crooke’s lease was over, he was allowed take over.

Of course, there is a theory that Coppinger orchestrated the whole thing; and there is undeniable evidence of a man from Dungarvan being instrumental, but if you want any more information, you’ll have to listen to my podcast episodes on it!

That’s the first one. Listen to all the subsequent ones up to and including the one entitled “Poem Reading: The Sack of Baltimore, by Thomas Davis.

BYEEE!

Now, I do intend this to be a little more personal-focused rather than purely a promo for my podcast… although it will be that, too!

Now, if you don’t know me, and were just scrolling substack, let me introduce myself!

My name is Liam Blake, I’m 24, and I’m based near Thurles in Co. Tipperary, Ireland. On the off-chance you don’t know, Ireland is a teddy-bear-shaped-rock off the coast off Europe.

Also, I have Spina Bifida, so I’m a full-time Wheelchair user. I play Wheelchair basketball with the South-East Swifts, based (unfortunately?) in County Kilkenny.

I did zoology in College, but, as a wheelchair user, I was thinking afterward “most of my friends are doing fieldwork… what can I do, in my Wheelchair? I had done a Sport/Wildlife Podcast (which was very very poor and thankfully is no more), during College, so decided to do another one; this time, on my second love, History!

More specifically, Irish History. I’ve ALWAYS loved dogs. A few years ago, a man (now deceased) introduced me to one of Ireland’s native breeds, and I fell in love.

As a result, I decided/realised there was a complete lack of people knowing about their own History and Heritage in Ireland, and therefore launched The History and Heritage Podcast (simple name, I know), to change that!

So yeah! You can comment below, here; tell me what else you want me to cover in this Substack (as I’m completely stumped!!)

See you!

-Liam