I have confession. I saw this poster, above, and I had one thought:
Finally.
After all, if there’s one thing modern Ireland is missing, it’s a Saint Patrick’s Day event, like this one, for “weirdos and queerdos”.
A “Snakey” Paradise Cabaret Special of comedy, circus, dance and music with the funniest weirdos and queerdos around.
A whirlwind journey into a comically absurd, skillfully slick and ridiculously entertaining Cabaret.
It’s time to ditch the old Gods and embrace the cultural revolution of colour, carnival and chaos. Where frivolous entertainment meets serious culture and we blur the lines, blur the vision and refocus on a more fantastical and art filled future.
Paradise Cabaret is built on a community of artists, performers, designers, creatives, all with the same thrill-seeking mission and fabulous commitment to performance, vibe and fun-fueled debauchery… welcome to the family!
Hosted by the pompous and pretentious Cian Austin Jesus.
Alas, an event like this is bound to be a let-down: After all, it couldn’t possibly be as insufferable as it sounds.
The thing that will draw everybody’s attention of course is the artwork, featured above, and in close up below. It’s pretty good, as these things go, in that it conveys visually exactly who the event is intended to appeal to. If you’re somebody in Ireland who still thinks it’s edgy and radical and dangerous to insult and offend little old ladies and pensioners who go to mass and pray to Saint Patrick and believe in things like modesty, and so on, well, this is the night out for you.
And by itself, that’s not objectionable: We live in a country where free speech is – at least for the moment – the law of the land. If somebody thinks sexy Saint Patrick is the funniest damn thing they’ve ever seen, then more power to them. But it’s worth thinking about imagery like this in the context of proposed hate speech legislation.
After all, portraying Saint Patrick – as part of a lavishly state funded festival, no less – as a kind of oversexed cross-dressing strumpet is very offensive, at least to some people of faith. What’s more, it’s not accidentally offensive. Every single person who sees this image, both those delighted by it, and those repelled by it, knows instinctively that it’s intentionally offensive. If it wasn’t intentionally offensive, it wouldn’t even come close to delighting or appealing to its target audience.
The intention of this image is to annoy people. There are those, for example, who will point to the existence of this very article with delight – hah hah it’s triggered Gript hah hah – at the very idea that people have been offended by it.
And so, what we have here is something that is offensive, is widely likely to be seen to be offensive, and which is, everybody knows, intended to be offensive. Were, say, the Prophet Muhammed to be depicted in this manner by a far-right group in Ireland, everybody would instinctively know that we were looking at the kind of thing which hate speech legislation is intended to stamp out.
So, where’s the outrage about this? Either it is all right to offend people, or it is not.
Which brings us to the core problem with hate speech legislation in Ireland, and elsewhere: It is, and will ever be, subject to the unspoken qualification that liberal and progressive people are inherently and definitionally incapable of hate speech, and will never be prosecuted for it, or held to account for it. You can support hate speech legislation, and say whatever you like about Christians, or white people, or middle class men. The law is not intended to protect those people – it is intended to protect minority groups from those people. It is a proposal with an unspoken double standard built right in, from the moment of conception.
And that’s why politicians won’t criticise something like this. Well – that, and the persistent belief they have that if they criticise something like this, somebody will call them a homophobe.
It’s not homophobic, of course, to be offended by something like this. It’s just a waste of your time: Being offended by it is what the organisers want. Your rage will delight them. The better attitude is to find it all very, very, boring: What we have here, after all, is a bunch of people who’ve had the one joke since about 1988, and can’t stop telling it.
And what’s more, in their hearts, they know that themselves. Which is why they need your outrage, so as to make themselves feel much funnier and rebellious than they actually are.