There are few things more Irish than a hike up the moral high ground. A pot of tea, maybe? A hot whiskey to put manners on a cold? But moral high ground?
We ascend that peak like a master sherpa with a chip on his shoulder. Me included. Particularly in the company of internationals, and especially if that company hails from an empire. Which is why it’s so important that we check our very bespoke Irish privilege; that of being self-appointed rapporteurs for injustice, despite having suffered very little of it ourselves.
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