Our troubles without end…

The Spectator these days under Boris Johnson is a cracking read, and worth the hassle of registering with the site. This week they’ve got Kevin Myers, who points out to a no doubt increasingly bored and puzzled British audience that there is not going to be an end to Northern Ireland political troubles:

Writing about Northern Ireland in a British publication is rather like performing a one-man rendition of Waiting For Godot on the beach at Skegness in January. One senses that no one is paying a blind bit of attention, for the affairs of the province are as taboo in British society as coprophagy. Indeed, the best way for an exhausted hostess of a London dinner party to cause her drunken guests to flee home, screaming, is for her to start a conversation about Northern Ireland.

o, ten years after I last appeared in this organ, let me repeat: the Irish Troubles are not over. They will never be over. Indeed, this week, we might well be standing on the threshold of a new era of violence. You can wait for the endgame of the Province’s travails, but Godot will not come through that door. The people of Britain are stuck with this wretch called Ulster. You can deny he exists; you can shout that you can’t hear him dementedly hammering in the closet; it makes no difference. As sure as the North Sea tides race over the sandflats at Skegness, the lunatic that is Northern Ireland will saw its way out of the cupboard in which you thought you had safely interred him.