Irish men and Irish women, in the name of God and the dead generations, it appears to be your patriotic duty to remove Boris Johnson from office before he wrecks the Irish economy with a no-deal Brexit
Of course, there may well be an EU-UK deal before October 31, but Johnson is politically mad enough to see himself as a latter day Churchill, prepared to fight them on the beaches and that sort of thing.
So how can we minimise the risk from Johnson's political insanity? Maybe we should organise huge nationalist gatherings along the lines of Daniel O'Connell's 19th Century "Monster Meetings" at places like the Hill of Tara. Hundreds of thousands attended and shouted "Hurrah for Ireland".
In The Last Conquest of Ireland (Perhaps) John Mitchel mocked the meetings, asking: "When all Ireland shall have paraded itself at monster meetings, what then?"
But who would dare mock Leo Varadkar as our modern-day O'Connell, leading nationalism on a crusade against the old enemy?
So, to adapt Ian Paisley's slogan to get rid of Terence O'Neill, we need a "Boris Must Go" campaign.
But how, you ask, are we to get rid of him? Put something in his coffee? (Too difficult.) Send a swarm of killer bees up Downing Street? (Too noisy.) Hope he gets arrested following a domestic row in Downing Street? (Too optimistic.)
He has a parliamentary majority of only one, so what we need is a special political hit squad, to make a daring raid on Westminster to vote him out of office. But where could we possibly find brave men and women to strike at the heart of the British Empire (well, former empire) by entering the Commons to save Ireland?
I know, you say - why not send Sinn Féin's seven abstentionist MPs to vote him out? Of course! The Magnificent Seven - why didn't we think of that before now?
For the South Longford by-election in 1917, Michael Collins is credited with the memorable slogan to elect Sinn Féin's Joe McGuinness, so he would be released from prison: "Put him in to get him out".
The Magnificent Seven's slogan could be: "Put them in, to get him out".
Ah but, say Sinn Féin, we were not elected to take our seats, which sounds pretty pathetic. In 2017, they were elected to the Assembly on a promise of an extra £1 billion for health, 50,000 new jobs, 10,000 new social homes and £6 billion on infrastructure.
They delivered none of that. Instead their MLAs were paid for doing nothing, including one who did not even stand for election. So, like all parties, they have experience of breaking election pledges. In any case those who are elected make decisions when in office and allow voters to judge those decisions at the following election.
So in terms of Brexit, Sinn Féin has become the political wing of Fine Gael. Leo Varadkar has them where he wants them, which suggests they learned little from their recent electoral losses.
Leaving Boris in office by default will have unknown long-term consequences. In 1979 Gerry Fitt abstained in a vote of no confidence in the Labour government, which led to Mrs Thatcher's election and we all know how that turned out. (And Gerry later had his house burned down.)
SF already has a role model in Westminster: Labour MP, Conor McGinn, is from Camlough in South Armagh. A man with an impeccable track record in opposing the Tory government, SF could do worse than join him in his work. Sinn Féin's sitting in the taoiseach's slipstream certainly benefits Fine Gael a lot more than it benefits Mary Lou.
But if SF stands idly by, like Taoiseach Jack Lynch 50 years ago next week, no doubt someone will write a stirring ballad justifying it all. It will ignore the fact that the Magnificent Seven stayed at home. Instead it will emphasise Sinn Féin's monster rallies where they shouted, "Tiocfaidh ár lá" and everyone cheered.
John Mitchel had a point.
