A Mother's Piety

Written by Blaze

Piety n the quality of being religious or reverent: A belief which is accepted with unthinking conventional reverence.


"I don't believe The Devil, I don't believe his book; but the truth is not the same without the lies he made up" 

…So sang Paul Hewson, aka Bono, in the opening lines of U2's 1988 track "God Part II". While I have no desire to delve into the murky existential meanings of a 30-year-old Lennon-inspired U2 song (by the way, 'Desire' is another classic rousing track from their Rattle and Hum album), these lyrics do provide an apt opening for this, the final instalment of my (admittedly flawed and patchy) psychological assessment of Madeleine McCann’s brittle and embittered mother.

It is my final one not because I have run out of steam or outrage (au contraire!) but because I sense we will soon have some semblance of closure on this scandal, although I hardly dare hope for total, absolute justice (whatever that may entail) when the truth has been so irreparably damaged, distorted and corrupted over the years. But essentially, the farce has finally finished; or at least it’s now gasping its last desperate breaths. The end has already started to happen. The case will undoubtedly continue to be intensively studied and analysed by social commentators, psychiatrists, lawyers, forensic psychologists and criminologists for many generations (and with greater thoroughness and objectivity once the truth is out; which it will be, although not soon enough); and our children’s children will be flabbergasted and flummoxed that it happened at all.

In this chapter, I incredulously observe Kate McCann’s seemingly unshakeable self-righteousness and formidable sense of entitlement; predominant features of a ferocious yet fragile narcissism that ultimately presents us with an almost-impossible-to-believe caricature of a disturbed anti-heroine straight out of the most outlandish Stephen King novel.

I say 'seemingly' because, to put it mildly, nothing is quite what it seems when it comes to devoted and responsible model mother, qualified anesthetist, devout Catholic, Ambassador for Missing People, amateur actress and compulsive liar Dr Healy.

Above I describe my analysis as 'flawed and patchy', and of course it is, and that is because all we have to go on is 11+ years' worth of formal pre-prepared interviews, additional 'candid' televised footage and photographs, official documentation of Dr Healy's verbal statements and crucially - Exhibit A for the prosecution - her book.

Kate McCann’s book, ‘madeleine’, a catastrophically misguided ‘homage’ to a missing-presumed-dead child evidently undeserving even of capitalization, is ultimately nothing more than an autobiographical, lie-engorged pamphlet of relentlessly self-serving propaganda and xenophobic bile. It is also a permanent written record of the unmitigated inappropriateness and unselfconscious inconsistency that underscores Kate McCann’s publicly-flaunted persona; an unnervingly robotic and ice-cold figure quite at odds with the “selfless, protective mummy” ideal she has somehow, quite without irony, identified herself as representing.

But is that persona the 'real' Kate McCann, any more than the heartbreakingly deluded perception she seems to have of herself as a ‘perfect’ parent and stunningly inspirational woman? There is no way of knowing for sure: in all honesty, I suspect not. It is difficult for me to accept than any human being on Earth is as resolutely hateful and hollow as she gives the impression of being. Even your bog-standard narcissist at least (and by necessity) has a keen awareness of what constitutes a decent human being, and tends to put in maximum effort to pretend to be one. But for her, there’s all of the piety and none of the basic introspection and self-reflection required in order to convincingly emulate and replicate ‘goodness’. Like her husband, she cannot even be arsed to pretend to be anything other than what she truly is, despite the tedious bluster and bravado conceitedly proclaiming the contrary.

The result is that she is all mouth (“we are not the ones who have done anything wrong”) and no trousers (black-and-white checked, unsightly, reeking of corpse).

We do not have access to mental health records (assuming they exist), or even a singular unbiased and convincing multi-dimensional character appraisal from anyone who has ever known her, or any other useful evidence apart from the woman's own questionable narrative and equally questionable behaviour.

Therefore a disclaimer before I plough ahead: I must allow for the possibility of being completely misled in my perceptions and interpretations of everything she has publicly done, said and written since 2007. Her character might indeed be one of virtue, honesty and warmth as eulogised by her numerous cookie-cutter acquaintances, e.g.:

 "Our friend Kate McCann - The perfect mum"

She might be a woman of utmost integrity, one who has been horribly misrepresented by a pernicious and immoral media.

But while I must allow for that possibility, just as I allow for the possible existence of an omniscient, omnipresent, all-powerful, vengeful and mercurial God as deferred to by certain peculiarly unkind subsets of Christians, I categorise it as “vanishingly unlikely”. About as improbable as the abduction fairytale itself.

Just as it appears that there was no abduction from Apartment 5A on the 3rd of May 2007, despite us having been told, a million times, that there definitely was, in Kate McCann there appears to be a morally bereft woman consumed by insecurity, avarice and self-absorption – despite us having been told, a million times, that she is an irreproachable woman to be admired, honoured and even revered.

Well, frankly, although I do not usually like to speak ill of the afflicted, there’s nothing admirable, honourable or venerable about Kate McCann. She is - at the very least - a liar who is crap at lying, an actress who cannot act, a mother with zero maternal instincts, and the wife of a man so irredeemably repugnant that he manages to actually make her seem like the less unpleasant half of the couple.

And even now, well over a decade after the (clever, clever) PJ released their files to the public (thus definitively demolishing the McCanns’ asinine narrative), she and that loathsome, hubristic husband of hers really do – astoundingly – continue to labour under the heroic assumption that they are quite simply better than other people. They have seething, unbridled contempt for anyone who dares to not believe them, but make no mistake, they have even more contempt for the people who do.

That conviction, that belief in their own unassailable superiority has remained steadfast, and has radiated from their every word, their every facial expression, their every action since May 2007. The total lack of humility and self-awareness required for such staggering delusions of grandeur, and under such presumably morale-crushing circumstances, suggests to me that they must be, surely, quite literally insane; the both of them. After all, what is insanity if it isn’t an unerring belief in the opposite of reality?

So why would a blatantly narcissistic woman assume the ambitious (in fact unattainable) role of "perfect mother", a role she has no idea how to convincingly exemplify and one utterly vanquished at the first hurdle anyway by her own jaw-dropping account of purposefully and repeatedly leaving all three of her babies alone in the dark? How does that decision tally with her bold description of herself as an over-protective, vigilant, nurturing, good mother…?

Why could she not have been content with being thought of as a fallible, occasionally idiotic mother (so therefore of course an ordinary one), a mother who tries her best but nevertheless makes lots of mistakes, and none so despicable, disastrous and fucking cretinous as the decision to leave three babies alone in the dark, not even within earshot of a 'responsible adult'?

If that’s the story she and Gerald were so insistent on hammering us with, why not at least own the gargantuan bloody mistake that was central to it?

I’ll tell you why: because the woman is incapable of accepting accountability. The closest she’s ever come to admitting “I really, really fucked up” was during her infamous interview with soothingly avuncular baldy Jon Corner, in August 2007:

“…there’s not a day that goes by that I’m not kinda thinking to myself why did I think that was OK, you know, was I wrong in thinking that was OK? And I mean all I can say to myself is that I know how much I love my children, I know I'm a responsible parent..." Watch from 6m14s

So, she apparently (just briefly, mind) grappled with the idea that maybe, just maybe, it was “wrong” to leave her very young children unattended, when the consequence of that decision was (according to The McCann Gospel) one of those children finding herself, terrified, in the clutches of a phantasmagorical predatory paedo.

Now let’s be clear: if whatever happened to Madeleine happened as a result of parental negligence, it is out of the question that even a woman as unhinged as Kate McCann would just blithely refer to the negligence in such an unaffected, dismissive manner. Therefore I conclude that Madeleine met her fate as a result of something other than ‘mere’ parental negligence. Something much worse, perhaps? Yes. Something much worse.

… Incidentally, what the hell was Gerald droning on about in his radio pantomime back in September about the “special bond between fathers and daughters” when he asserted, with his usual unseemly arrogance, that he and others were satisfied that they (the McCanns) were “model parents”? Really Gerald? You don’t get to regale the public with a tale of piss-poor parenting but still insist on wearing your “Best Dad Ever” badge, you pitiless, sanctimonious hypocrite.

Click to listen to interview

So what part has religion, God and faith (or rather the rosary-bead-clutching performance of faith) played in this absolute farce, this unremitting mockery of everything that God supposedly represents (if indeed He/She/They exists)? In short, it is a smokescreen. Like their ostensible status (successful, affluent, well-connected, well-educated, well-travelled doctors), their recourse to religion helped elevate them in the public consciousness. They were never content with merely being ‘victims of a crime’: they wanted to be portrayed as blameless, worthy, aspirational, special, extraordinary ‘model parents’ at the epicentre of a tragic cause célèbre. Of course they needed our help, of course they exhorted us all to unquestioningly believe them and of course as "inherently good people" we were morally obliged to believe them.

This necessarily involved apportioning ‘blame’ elsewhere, anywhere; a tactic they employed with maniacal tenacity and determination, and they continue to do so even to this day, and will doubtless do forevermore. It also involved faking and accentuating a 'favoured' subservient relationship with God and his various mortal minions, including arguably The Most Important One at that time, Pope Benedict XVI. Credit to them, they did this very, very well. For a while.

Eumenides, 28th July 2015: "The Rome visit was without a doubt a masterstroke. Approval from the earthly representative of God - leader of about 14% of the world population - is certainly helpful in establishing one’s reputation."

http://fytton.blogspot.com/2015/07/the-european-campaign-rome-is-already.html

https://www.facebook.com/groups/JusticeForMadeleine/permalink/1727877573974976/

"It was on Sunday 27 May that Clarence first mentioned the possibility that we might be invited to the Vatican (or ‘accepted’ there) to meet Pope Benedict XVI. The ‘relevant people’ in Rome, he told us, had already been making the necessary preparations... For a Catholic, meeting the Pope is about as close as you can get to meeting God, and we certainly needed His help. I truly believed that if I was able to speak to the Pope, my pleas for Madeleine’s safe return would be channelled more efficiently and effectively to Heaven. I also believed that this meeting might lead to many more Catholics offering prayers for Madeleine. Surely if God received a bombardment like this, Madeleine would be returned to us?"
The above quote is taken from Kate McCann’s book, summarised in her astonishing diary entry for the same day:

‘Clarence spoke to us about a possible visit to the Vatican. Rome is already preparing itself.’

I envisage, three or four decades from now, a university lecture hall packed with eager criminal law students, and one of them asks the tutor (a wizened, jaded man in his seventies): “I am assuming it is only an urban myth that Kate McCann wrote that ‘Rome was preparing itself’ for their arrival?”

And a hush will descend among these students, all of whom have been wondering the same thing, and the wise old man will remove his bifocals, shamble wearily over to his chair, sit down with his head in his hands, close his eyes and whisper, “No. It’s not an urban myth. It really happened.”

Also from Kate’s book:
"Our audience with Pope Benedict XVI, as part of a public session at St Peter’s, was confirmed the following day and scheduled for Wednesday 30 May. Sir Philip Green kindly offered us the use of his private jet. But what would people say? That we were hobnobbing with celebrities and swanning around in the lap of luxury while our daughter was suffering? The unpleasant scrutiny we were under was soon to become an integral part of our lives whether we liked it or not. In the end we accepted Sir Philip’s offer for logistical and emotional reasons. The key factor was that it would dramatically reduce the period of time we’d need to spend away from Amelie and Sean."

"There are times I have got angry with God but my faith has sustained me and it has got stronger.' (Clearly written verbatim, from a Tracey Kandohla article, March 2010)

Throughout her book, she refers to God 98 times and to ‘the church’ 37 times. She uses the name of our Lord Saviour Jesus Christ only in reference to 'Christ-mas', "fellow Christ-ians", and when she needs to blaspheme (a rather unchristian lapse, frankly) in order to express her exasperation:

"‘Why did you have to spend the whole day without an interpreter? If you haven’t got one, then get one! This is our daughter’s life, for Christ’s sake. We don’t have days to waste and she certainly doesn’t. And if you can’t get one, then let us know and we will.’ I couldn’t believe it."

It has already been noted that Kate and Gerry are impassive, almost bored, when encouraged or prompted to talk about their disappeared daughter. The very fact they need to be prompted at all is unbelievable, but whenever we watch any instalment of the Kate and Gerry Show © ™ we have to accept that in their minds it really is and always has been all about them. It’s exclusively about those marvelous eponymous stars: their feelings (and theirs alone, because nobody else matters), how they have suffered and continue to suffer, who or what has irked them lately (there’s always something or someone), just precisely how brilliant and courageous and hopeful they continue to be, how much more cash they need for the next circus side-show, what they are having for dinner, and toe-curling details of their marital intimacies, or lack thereof.



Even when they do deign to feign a meaningful reference to Madeleine, the very person who should (obviously) continually be centre-stage and spotlit, it's as if they are reading from an autocue: insipid, stoical and dispassionate, shrugging and sighing or smirking and sneering their way through interview after interview. How can a parent consistently talk so emotionlessly about their missed and missing child? The unexplained loss of a child – the greatest and most ineffably cruel of all losses, one without closure or answers – is not a simple bereavement, it is not a pain that eases with time (just look at Kerry Needham, whose all-consuming grief is still palpable after more than 27 years), so even the more recent photographs of the pair of them chortling away with ne’er a care in the world make my blood run cold.

But when they talk about money, when they talk about the fund, they really come to life. Watching them over the years speak so animatedly and so bloody often about their campaign and fund (and so rarely about their daughter, only their expensive quest to ‘find’ her) is deeply unsettling. It’s reminiscent of the televangelists in the first link below exhorting their God-fearing congregation to help them upgrade their private jets so they can get literally "closer to the Lord in Heaven". Watch it and be reminded of Darshna Soni's 2010 interview with the McCanns for Channel 4 (second link), in which they make a point of emphasizing to the world, once again, that their noble, indefatigable campaign can’t be expected to run on thin air and prayers alone.

Kenneth Copeland, Jesse Duplantis, defending their private jets

Madeleine McCann fund low on money: full interview pt 2

With the possible exception of the rapacious reverends in the first clip above, none of us in our lifetimes will bear witness to anything so crass, so unspeakably vulgar and horrifying, as this wretched abomination: a global deception spawned from cowardice and sheer greed that thoroughly perverted the tragedy of a toddler’s unlawful death, and painted her clearly complicit parents, rather than the child herself, as the ‘real’ victims deserving of sympathy, dignity, respect and support.

Merchandise bearing their dead daughter’s face and name was produced posthaste by the lorry-load and shipped all over the world, for a fee. Luggage tags, car stickers, posters, wristbands, t-shirts, fucking prayer cards! Every damn one of us impressionable (sym)pathetic plebs could have our own little piece of that poor darling exploited little girl, if we were prepared to pay the arbitrary price demanded by her parents. I ask you – could you ever, in your wildest and sickest nightmares, have conjured up anything so abhorrent? Parents calculatedly commoditizing the daughter whose death they themselves had directly or indirectly facilitated or caused, by convincing the entire world ad infinitum that she’s definitely ‘out there somewhere’, alive and desperate to be reunited with her ever-loving family.



And lo and behold, through concerted international guilt-tripping efforts and through repeated overt and subliminal brainwashing campaigns, somewhere along the way, miraculously and very quickly, it somehow became the responsibility of all of us to help them find her. And how were we expected to do that? By giving them credence, attention and (lots of) cash (stuffed haphazardly into brown envelopes if you please, Clarence), or buying their shambolic mass-produced toss. If we failed to do any of that, we essentially became as evil as the mythical abductor.

Forgive the blasphemy, but Jesus H Christ! How did any of us ever fall for this shit? I’m mortified that I once believed them.

Well nobody’s falling for it anymore; the lie is as transparent as their ‘faith’ in ‘God’.

As George Galloway stated in his article "The mother of all injustices", way back in September 2007 (those heady days when they still enjoyed majority support): "The McCanns have either been the victims of a cataclysmic historic injustice, almost unprecedented, or they have been complicit in a scheme so duplicitous, so evil, so foul that Shakespeare himself could not have written it."

But I’ll leave the final word to Kate McCann herself, as I am sure she would insist on:

"I have had to keep saying to myself: I know the truth, we know the truth and God knows the truth. And one day, the truth will out."

Indeed it will.