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November 18th 2012 reply >>> RE: Met Alex in Kildare Street

Sunday, 18 November, 2012 15:00
"Siobhan Finnerty" <>
Dear Siobhan,

As I don't know anything about the details of the present conflict between yourself and Dean, I don't think I should attempt to offer any detailed advise or guidance about how I might go about resolving the difficulties, if I were in your situation.

However, in a very general way, I do believe that if you and Dean happen to have one or more mutual friends who would like to stay on good terms with the two of you, even though you have now split up from each other, that it might be worth asking them to act as go-between/s for the purpose of helping to negotiate a fair resolution. I can't help feeling that any further attempts by you and Dean to sort things out in isolation -- if that is in fact what is taking place -- might only make things worse.

In other words, a Melbourne "Alex" (of the Dublin kind) might come in very handy, if, by some piece of good fortune, you and Dean happen to know such a person, someone that both of you like and trust.

Apart from that, and allowing for my lack of detailed information regarding your difficulties, the only other thing I can think of just now which might help, and it's a big might I realise, relates all the way back to stories I first heard during my childhood days in Galway, believed for a while, forgot all about when I grew a bit older because I decided they had as much truth in them as the stories about Santa Claus, and then -- much later in life -- came back to thinking that there might after all, in some way that's very largely impossible for human beings to understand or explain, be some kind of a symbolic element of truth in them.

The childhood version claimed that there were "White Fairies" -- "white" as in "brightness and clarity of mind" that is, and nothing to do with skin colour -- living in Ireland that were the embodiment of everything good in the universe, and that given the chance, they could help anybody in trouble who would listen to them. (They are NOT the "pushy" type!!) The childhood story was that they communicated with humans using the services of song-birds, so that what you had to in times of trouble was to listen very carefully to the song-birds during the day and especially in the evening (before they go bed for the night), and that when you woke up in the morning, you would have the answers you needed, should you wish/choose to use them. As you probably already know, that's where the name "Siobhán" came from; it literally means "White (Bhán), Fairy (Sióg)" from the ancient Celtic language origins of the name, which gradually "progressed" in the way words often do through usage "across time and place" from "Sióg Bhán" to the present "Siobhán". And, apart from their goodness, and being full of the "brightness" and the "white-hot" type of the extreme thermonuclear energy provided for them by the virtually all-powerful Celtic Sun God "Lugh" -- "Mightiest of the Mighty" among the vast array of Celtic Gods and Goddesses -- they were also said to have a superhuman flair for being able to thoroughly enjoy themselves, effortlessly as it appeared to observers, in a vast range of ways which did not impact negatively on anybody, or on any thing: and, which frequently featured "music, singing, and dancing" of the highest quality, often in the vicinity of silvery rivers, lakes, and sea shorelines bathed in pale moonlight.

The adult version, after decades of working in the electronics industry, surrounded for much of the time by communications systems and computer systems of the best that human beings were capable of producing, left me believing that "Mother Nature", in all probability, does in fact have the means of communicating with all forms of "Life on Earth": as and when "IT" chooses, and by "communications and computer" systems which are so sophisticated and so complex that human beings are still a very long way off from even a "one-millionth part" overall, good-quality, in-depth understanding of all the processes involved. The most important part of the "daily process" in humans happens during sleep I suspect. During the day, all sorts of things happen which we are aware of, or at least partly aware of, and these things register in the brain as "information". During sleep, particularly (I suspect) during the early hours of normal healthy sleep, vast amounts of high-powered "computer type processing" takes place in the brain which we are not normally in the slightest bit conscious of. The processing in question is -- I strongly suspect -- a "White Fairy" type of processing which strives for all its worth to protect and help us, as individuals, and to lesser and lesser extents perhaps (?) as groups, a nation, and so on: basically by processing our daily intake of "fresh" information in a manner which takes full account of the vast amounts of much older information stored in our bodies, through chemically coded genetic software and associated processes that can survive any number of life/death sequences with ease (and according to the wishes of "Mother Nature" I suspect?): for as long as the direct blood-line continues especially; and where, in parts, the "old" information can be anything up to billions of years of age: all the way back to the origins of "Life of Earth", that is. When the "White Fairies" spot processing results which worry them to some extent, it appears "they" often lodge messages in the more "conscious" parts of the brain, which on awakening we recall as dreams (or as very vague difficult-to-explain "feelings" of one kind or another maybe). In the case of dreams, the messages between the two different "brain departments" (conscious/unconscious) are almost always delivered in symbolic form into the "conscious" area it seems (to me), which may explain why people often don't understand what their dreams were all about. As a psychiatrist I met in ** (in London) years ago, once described it to me using the following example, the dreams that people might have which involve "peacocks", will usually have little or no meaningful relationship at all with peacocks of the feathered kind. Combinations of symbols and images, moving and stationary, which are rapidly cobbled together from the stored information of the past, provide a much quicker and generally more efficient means of communicating complex, and often highly compressed ideas and concepts, than words on their own normally can: provided of course that there are "receivers" to receive, decode, and to interpret them correctly: and which require all of their "software switches" to be set to "on". When the "White Fairies" spot something during the processing which they feel is urgent in terms of the person's overall protection and wellbeing, they normally (it seems?) wake the person up straight away (or earlier than normal at least): and, if necessary with a jolt, should they consider the here-and-now "threatening situation" to be really serious.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that you might, via your dreams (and/or difficult-to-explain "vague feelings" following a period of sleep), be able to access useful clues on how best to go about finding the good "White Fairy" solution to the conflict you are now in with Dean: "good" in the sense of what's best for the four people primarily involved and most impacted upon by the break-up of the relationship between yourself and Dean: namely yourself (first), Grace (14), Connor (16), and Dean (40 something). Also, and although I found it difficult in the early days, with practice and perseverance, and frequently using pen and paper to try and guess at what the symbols and images (and vague feelings) meant, I eventually reached a stage whereby it became relatively easy for me to "translate" the symbolic language of dreams into "plain English". At the same time though, I have to admit that there have been times when I have had to give up, because it was taking too long, and I just could not find any "translation" that I felt happy with in the time available to me: while remaining convinced though that the combination of symbol/s and images in question really did contain a valid and potentially useful "White Fairy" type message for me. Normally, I find the symbols and images used are connected, often in an indirect and sometimes very obscure way, with something that happened in the previous 24 hours, or thereabouts. Frequently, I've found it helpful to write down a wild guess as to what the images and symbol/s (often accompanied by very "blurred feelings" of a negative kind) MIGHT mean, to begin with -- however ridiculous the wild guess might appear at the time -- and then wait for while to see how my brain responds to the wild guess. A bit like the way carrier-pigeons first need to fly around in a few large circles about the sky, in order to gather and process the information they need to set the correct "flight-path" for the successful completion of their journey, so it often seems to be with the human brain functions which lead to the "correct" (it's impossible I think to be absolutely 100% sure) translation of the symbolic language of dreams.

The last thing I wish to say to you in this e-mail, and I've long wanted to tell you this, is that you were, I believe, the direct product of a very genuine and potent love-force between two people who, at the time, cared very much for each other, and appreciated each other very much; and, that because of that, I also believe the "power of love" will ALWAYS be close to you, and heavily supportive of you. Apart from the odd short-lived hiccup, when something happened which threw me into a blind spin/daze of some kind, I have always deeply loved your mother: almost from the very first conversation I had with her. Though I have had some lengthy relationships with a number of other women during the years since I stopped drinking in 1975, when it seemed to me I could not be with you and your mother, and although the relationships in question were very good and worthwhile in many respects, the "feelings" involved were nevertheless a bit like "pale moonlight" in comparison to the "bright sunshine" of those I have felt for your mother; and, the fact that I know your mother no longer wishes to have anything to do with me, seems to make no difference at all to my feelings towards her: probably because I blame myself, and to a lesser extent the awful alcohol-related problems my family of origin were saddled with -- not your mother -- for the way I failed to turn up in Melbourne in the early 1970s, as I undoubtedly should have done, had I been in a healthy enough state of existence to do so at that particular time in my life. Whatever the precise reason/s for the way all these things turned out, the set of feelings for your mother I ended up with are well described in the words of the Don Gibson song "I Can't Stop Loving You" sung by the late Roy Orbison at:

I never (in my wildest dreams) anticipated the trouble I ran into when I went to Australia to see you in the run-up to Christmas 1980. In early 1981, a woman lawyer (in St Albans, England) advised me that as much as I might like to do so, I probably would not be able to maintain good relationships with both you and your mother, because of the circumstances, and the associated choice/s I needed to make. Given the circumstances, I could not protect both of you it was strongly suggested. Shortly afterwards, I, and I alone, made the choice which I believed was most protective of you (entirely because you were only 12 at the time, and your mother was in her mid-thirties then), while knowing that in making that choice I would probably destroy the good relationship I had with your mother: which, in many respects was the most valuable possession I had. It was as if life had somehow contrived to force me into a situation whereby I had to choose between doing something I found extremely difficult to do (which was to do nothing of substance about "the problem"), and doing something that I found a tiny bit less difficult to do.

Still, I have never regretted the choice I made then: partly at least because the body language of the woman lawyer I was seeking legal help and guidance from seemed to instantly and clearly signal that she believed I had made the right choice (for all involved, and as far as the "long-haul" was concerned, I have always liked to think). Needless to say, I have ever since very much regretted the cost of the choice I made in the lawyer's office that day: in terms of my destroyed relationship with your mother.

"C'est la vie". (As you may already know, some see that expression as Ned Kelly's name, sort of, in the French language.)

I meant to try and gently relate these things to you in 1990. But, as you may recall, our potential to develop what I hoped might turn into a good, healthy, and close relationship with you at that time suddenly nose-dived as a result of a single phone-call (and my very strong negative reactions to it) one Saturday morning some weeks before Christmas 1990, from someone who was a complete stranger to me, and who asked to speak to you. Shortly afterwards, you informed me that the firm plans we had made for the two of us to spend part of Christmas 1990 in Ireland had been completely scrapped.

More recently, I had hoped we might have been able to talk about some (at least) of the above things when you visited Ireland last September. In the event, there was not the time.

Now, with the new threat for me of high blood-pressure, and all the associated potential for heart attacks, strokes, brain damage, sudden death, and so on, I feel I might not ever get the chance to relate these things to you, if I just keep on delaying until another opportunity might arise in connection with my planned trip to Melbourne in February 2013.

My brother Gerald never recovered fully (as I see things) from the "family damage" he suffered (through no fault of his own) during the years before and after you were born, and as a consequence he has never had a relationship with any woman of the kind that produced any children: and thus his unique blood-line will end with him. I often comfort myself with the thought that the amazingly good qualities he has, particularly in connection with such things as kindness, patience (definitely not one of my strong points), gentleness, compassion, and generosity, will survive to some extent through the relatively "only slightly shuffled" chemically-coded software in the gene-pool I inherited and share with him, via you, Connor, and Grace.

My concern now is that by relating these things to you at this point in time, and in this way, I may damage my long held and growing wish to try and get to know you a bit better. If that happens, I will just have to accept it. On account of my age and the medical problems I've got, I feel it's a risk that I should and must take at this particular time. I hope you will understand.

Instead of driving us apart though, I also hope that the contents of this e-mail just might somehow -- with the help of "The God of My Extremely Limited Understanding", as I tend to think of Her, Him, It, or Whatever "IT" is? -- help to bring us closer together. A slightly unusual aspect perhaps of my thoughts relating to God, is that I tend to think of women as God's greatest and most sophisticated creation, as far as "Life on Earth" is concerned at least. This is mostly because of the additional "hardware and software" women need to produce babies, and the mind-bending complexity and accuracy of the interactions between the "written in Chemistry Language" hardware and software in question, to successfully complete the task. Consequently, and if for some unexpected reason I was forced to choose between the two, I'd be far more inclined to think of God as a She, and not a He.

I have often in the past found myself thinking that the "trials of life" must surely be meant to destroy us. In more recent years though, I have gradually found myself exploring more and more what might be a better, more accurate, and more constructive way of trying to explain the whole phenomenon: perhaps their REAL purpose is to improve and strengthen us as a species through the forces of courage and love: as such forces manifest themselves in individuals who have the ability to be courageous in terms of standing up to human rights abuses in their daily lives, in addition to being as loving as possible, in the most general ways possible?

Maybe the day will come, when the thinking of the "White Fairies" will dominate the ways of "Life on Earth": as the consequence of a significantly large enough number of people learning how to accurately "translate" their well-intentioned, symbol-dependant messages, which take account of the whole history of humanity I suspect: its strengths, weaknesses, successes, failures, and so on: and, most important of all perhaps, the ability of humanity as a whole to learn from its past mistakes?

Also, and as I think I might have mentioned to you in the Prince of Wales (Athlone) last September, in the mid 1980s, while on holiday in Ireland, my mother told me some things about the exact time of my birth (in what is now called University College Galway Hospital), which I felt at the time was a bit of a strange strange thing for her to do: especially as at the time, her body language suggested that she herself was unsure as to why she was telling me. It happened in the middle of a normal conversation, and when she realised I was a bit surprised, she added: "I told you that, because I felt it might be important for you to know", and then she gently returned to where she had broken off from the normal conversation. Fifteen years or so later, I suddenly discovered that the time and date of my birth she mentioned would have been the exact time, more or less, that the light from the Sun crosses the "end stone" in Cairn T (which is believed by many to be King Ollamh Fodhla's grave, who was the father of King Finnachta / "Fionn Sneachta/ "Snow White" / Finnerty), and which is about 25 miles to the north-west of the Hill of Tara. March 21st 1945 (my birthday, and I was born just after dawn according to what my mother informed me) is the day of the Spring Equinox in the Northern Hemisphere, and King Ollamh Fodhla is renowned in legal academic circles around the world for his highly compassionate, and highly successful, "Brehon Law" justice system, which he first put in place in Ireland around 1200 BC according to some sources of such information. If interested, there is more on what I fully realise might be nothing more than a string of pure coincidences at Coincidences or not though, I know for sure that had it not been for this "paranormal set of very personal hints" (as I sometimes speculate they might have been?), I would never, ever have persisted with all the effort, time, and money involved, to challenge government crime to the extent that I have been doing since 1998, when I returned to Ireland, to retire here. These "hints" have often been the "spurs", and sometimes the "crutches", that have enabled me to "keep on going": through a long string of sometimes exceptionally difficult and/or doubtful times for me, when, was it not for their presence, I very firmly believe I would have given up -- several years ago -- and simply just walked away from the whole frightening and complex mess of trying to successfully challenge the exceptionally deep-rooted and difficult to dislodge social curse (as I see it) of "government crime".

So, even if it's of little or no interest to you now, some of the above information might nevertheless take on a new meaning for you at some later point in your life. Or, allowing for all of the superhuman wizardry and dynamics of the chemical genetic processes involved in the creation of future generations, in Connor's or in Grace's lives later on, or in one or more of their grandchildren's lives, great grandchildren, or whatever.

I'll end by saying that for me, regarding my relationship with your mother, it's all been a bit like the way the late Johnny Cash explains things in his short introduction to "I'll Take You Home Again Kathleen" at, and that it was in that little "Corner of Heaven" you were conceived.

Dad xxx.

P.S. "Remember Bob: no fear, no envy, and no meanness!!" (Liam Clancy/Bob Dylon at:


--- On Sat, 17/11/12, William Finnerty <> wrote:

From: William Finnerty <>
Subject: RE: Met Alex in Kildare Street
To: "Siobhan Finnerty" <>
Date: Saturday, 17 November, 2012, 11:43


This is just a quick note to let you know I have received your e-mail (reproduced below).

I intend to write to you again within the coming 24 hours.

I suspected something was wrong when I stopped hearing from you.

In the meantime, please try to keep in mind that, in me, you have a close relative who cares deeply about you, and who will always do all they reasonably can to try and help you through any and all difficulties you experience which you inform me about.

That said, and although I have long since lost all contact with her as you know, I am 100% convinced that your mother would be every bit as anxious and willing to try and help you out as I am.

So, in reality, you have two very close blood relatives (I believe) who will be separately thinking of you in very caring and loving ways, and trying to figure out the best means to help you through this difficult time you are at present experiencing.

As stated above, I intend to send you another e-mail within the coming 24 hours.


Dad xxx.


--- On Thu, 15/11/12, Siobhan Finnerty <> wrote:

From: Siobhan Finnerty <>
Subject: RE: Met Alex in Kildare Street
To: "'William Finnerty'" <>
Date: Thursday, 15 November, 2012, 21:18

Hi Dad,


I’m sorry you’ve had no luck getting through to me.  I’m currently going though an awful time trying to make the separation between Dean and I official and unfortunately he is not coping with the situation at all well.  He is becoming increasingly more agitated and very aggressive which is really taking its toll on my well being.


I’ve started a new full time job which is something that I am really enjoying.  I have signed up with Skype and will try you on that over the week end.


I hope you are well?  I’m so pleased to hear that you bumped into Alex and that he recognized you.  It’s brings the world so much closer and such a fantastic memory more than just a memory.


I did try and contact Alex when we got home, just to let him know that we got home safely and thank him for all that he did for us.  He was a real highlight of our trip.


I do apologise for my lack of contact of late, but it’s totally because of the above mentioned.


As I said I will try to Skype over the week end and hopefully speak to you then.


Much love to you.

Siobhan xo


From: William Finnerty []
Sent: Friday, 16 November 2012 5:09 AM
To: Siobhan Finnerty
Subject: Met Alex in Kildare Street


Dear Siobhan,

I met Alex, the Kildare Hotel receptionist, this afternoon.

I needed to visit the passport office which is on a nearby street, and he recognised me.

He looks well and seems happy.

He was asking for you both, and pleased to hear you both got home safely.

I've tried to phone you a few times in recent weeks but never managed to get past your answering service.

I hope this finds you well.


Dad. xxx



 Siobhán Tara Finnerty


October 1990



                                           End of e-mail text
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