For those who are using the mobile version of Odysee, and therefore can't access the pdf, here are the lyrics in plain text: Well in the merry month of May, Now from me home I started. Left the girls of Tuam, Nearly broken hearted, Saluted father dear, Kissed me darlin mother, Drank a pint of beer, Me grief and tears to smother. Then off to reap the corn, And leave where I was born. Cut a stout black thorn, To banish ghosts and goblins. A brand new pair of brogues, To rattle over the bogs, And fright’n all the dogs, On the rocky road to Dublin. One, two, three, four five, Hunt da hare and turn her down the rocky road, Then all the ways to Dublin. Whack fallal di da. In Mullingar that night, I rested limbs so weary. Started by daylight, Next morning light and airy. Took a drop of the pure, To keep me heart from shinkin’. That’s the Paddy’s cure, Whene’er he’s on for drinkin’. To hear the lassies smile, Laughin’ all the while, At me curious style, T’would set yer heart a bubblin’. He asked me was I hired, and wages I required, Till I was almost tired, Of the rocky road to Dublin. One, two, three, four five, Hunt da hare and turn her down the rocky road, Then all the ways to Dublin. Whack fallal di da. In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pitty, To be so soon deprived, Of view of that fine city. Then I took a stroll. All among the quality, Bundle it was stolen, In a neat locality. Something crossed me mind, When I looked behind, No bundle could I find, Upon me stick a wobblin’. Inquirin’ after the rogue, Said me Connacht brogue, It wasn’t much in vogue, On the rocky road to Dublin. One, two, three, four five, Hunt da hare and turn her down the rocky road, Then all the ways to Dublin. Whack fallal di da. From there I got away, Me spirits never failing, Landed on the quay, Just as the ship was sailing. Captain at me roared. Said that no room had he, When I jumped aboard. A cabin found for Paddy, Down among the pigs. Did some hearty rigs, And played some hearty jigs, The water ’round me bubblin’. When off Holyhead, I wished meself was dead, Or better far instead, On the rocky road to Dublin. One, two, three, four five, Hunt da hare and turn her down the rocky road, Then all the ways to Dublin. Whack fallal di da. The boys of liver pool, When we safely landed, Called meself the fool, I could no longer stand it. Blood began to boil. Temper I was losin’. Poor old Erin’s Isle, They began abusin’. “Hurrah! Me soul!” says I. Shillelagh I let fly. Galway boys were by, And saw I was a hobblin’, With a loud “Hurray!” They join in the affray. Quickly clear the way, For the rocky road to Dublin. One, two, three, four five, Hunt da hare and turn her down the rocky road, Then all the ways to Dublin. Whack fallal di da.

In this document, I've copied Charles Creighton's article on vaccination that he wrote for the 1888 edition of Encyclopedia Britannica. This was published the year before his book Jenner and Vaccination: A Strange Chapter of Medical History. Creighton was a respected physician (otherwise he wouldn't have been invited to write the article for the prestigious encyclopedia). Not wanting to parrot the dogmas of the day, Creighton decided to actually look into the evidence in favor of vaccination and to look into the history of the practice. To his shock, he discovered that Edward Jenner was a con artist and that all available evidence cut against the hypothesis that cowpoxing could protect against smallpox. Jenner never actually gave adequate evidence that his technique worked and the cases of smallpox did not decrease following the implementation of a vaccine mandate in Britain. The medico-pharmaceutical sector, obviously having a special interest in promoting the efficacy of vaccines whether there's evidence or not, were understandably not happy, and the profession was generally outraged with Creighton after he wrote this article. On the final page of this document, I've given a link to the original document I copied this text from in case anyone wants to check the original for himself.

For those who are using the mobile version of Odysee, and therefore can't access the pdf, here are the lyrics in plain text: Was down by Brannigan’s corner, one mornin’ I did stray. I met a fellow rebel, and to me he did say, “We have orders from our captain, to assemble at Drumbar.” “But how are we to get there without a motor car?” “Oh Barney dear, be of good cheer; I’ll tell you what we’ll do. The specials they are plentiful, but the IRA are few. We’ll send a wire to Johnson, to meet us at Stranorlar, And we give the boys a bloody good ride, in Johnson’s motor car!” When Dr. Johnson heard the news, he soon put on his shoes. He said, “This is an urgent case, there is no time to lose!” He then put on his castor hat, and on his breast a star, You could hear the din all through Glenfin of Johnson’s motor car. Ah but when he got to the railway bridge, the rebels he saw there. Ol’ Johnson knew the game was up for at him they did stare. He said, “I have a permit to travel near and far.” “To hell with your English permit, we want your motor car!” “What will my loyal brethren think when they hear the news? My car it has been commandeered by the rebels at Dunluce!” “We’ll give you a receipt for it all signed by capt. Barr, And when Ireland gets her freedom, boy, you’ll get your motor car!” Well they put that car in motion and filled it to the brim, With guns and bayonets shining, which made old Johnson grim. And Barney hoisted a Sinn Féin flag and it fluttered like a star, And we give three cheers for the IRA and Johnson’s motor car!

For those who are using the mobile version of Odysee, and therefore can't access the pdf, here are the lyrics in plain text: “Oh, Ireland is a very funny place, sir. It’s a strange and a troubled land. And the Irish are a very funny race, sir. Every woman’s in Cumann na mBean. Every doggy’s got a tri-colored ribbon, Tied firmly to his tail, And it wouldn’t be surprisin’, If there’d be another risin’,” Said the man from the Daily Mail. “Oh, every bird, Upon my word’s, Singin’, ‘Yo Ho! I’m a provo!’ Every hen in jail, Is laying hand grenades, Over there, sir, I do declare, sir. And every old cock, In the farmyard stock’s, Singing triumph to Sinn Féin, And it wouldn’t be surprisin’, If there’d be another risin’,” Said the man from the Daily Mail. “Oh the other day I travelled down to Clare, sir. I spied an ol’ boreen. Such a bunch of busy gooses there, sir, Dressed in orange, white, and green. They were marching to the German goose step, And whistling Gráinne Mhaol, And every time I’d show up, They would shoot me as a yeoman,” Said the man from the Daily Mail. “Oh, every bird, Upon my word’s, Singin’, ‘Yo Ho! I’m a provo!’ Every hen in jail, Is laying hand grenades, Over there, sir, I do declare, sir. And every old cock, In the farmyard stock’s, Singing triumph to Sinn Féin, And it wouldn’t be surprisin’, If there’d be another risin’,” Said the man from the Daily Mail. “Oh the whole place is seething with sedition. It’s Sinn Féin through and through. All the boys are joining local units. And the password’s ‘Sinn Féin’ too.” Well the IRA just sent me, A time bomb in the mail, And I’m shakin’ in me shoes, As I’m typin’ up the news,” Says the man from the Daily Mail. “Oh, every bird, Upon my word’s, Singin’, ‘Yo Ho! I’m a provo!’ Every hen in jail, Is laying hand grenades, Over there, sir, I do declare, sir. And every old cock, In the farmyard stock’s, Singing triumph to Sinn Féin, And it wouldn’t be surprisin’, If there’d be another risin’,” Said the man from the Daily Mail. “Oh, every bird, Upon my word’s, Singin’, ‘Yo Ho! I’m a provo!’ Every hen in jail, Is laying hand grenades, Over there, sir, I do declare, sir. And every old cock, In the farmyard stock’s, Singing triumph to Sinn Féin, And it wouldn’t be surprisin’, If there’d be another risin’,” Said the man from the Daily Mail. “Oh, every bird, Upon my word’s, Singin’, ‘Yo Ho! I’m a provo!’ Every hen in jail, Is laying hand grenades, Over there, sir, I do declare, sir. And every old cock, In the farmyard stock’s, Singing triumph to Sinn Féin, And it wouldn’t be surprisin’, If there’d be another risin’,” Said the man from the Daily Mail.