The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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Location: Kilcullen (Phone 087 7790766), County Kildare, Ireland

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Not the Theme Tune to Casino Royale

Friday, April 03, 2015

kilcullen easter

the lambing time
evanescent leaves
provincial poets stitching worn out rhymes
into patchwork quilted semaphores of praise
all of these
mist like matting on muddy fields
old men rejoicing in campaniles
all of these
everything that breathes is on its knees
for the coming of the lord
peace

Friday, March 27, 2015

the rocky murdocks picture show

The screen is dark.
A disembodied male voice sings as the opening credits appear in the blackness.
The voice is plaintive, poignant and oddly beautiful.

***

The Voice: (singing)
"I remember the chill
The day Newsweek stood still
Claiming US troops flushed Korans down the jax
And Piers Morgan was there
In silver underwear
Cheerleading the Jihadi attacks.
Then something went wrong
For Rupert Murdock and his son
They got caught in a phone tapping jam
And at a deadly pace
It came from outer space
And this is how the message ran.
Science Fiction
Ooh, oooh, oooh
Double feature.
George Bush is a liar
Tony Blair's his creature
See Jihadis fighting
Not terrorists but insurgents
And lots of talk about quagmires
It's all so urgent
Woh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
At the late night
Sky News feature
Picture show
Woh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
At the late night
Sky News feature
Surrender show
I remember the sorrow
When the New York Times had to borrow
Five hundred million from a Sanchez named Slim
And the Washington Post
Soon gave up the ghost
And told us that Al Qaeda would win
Then something went weirder
For Piers Morgan at the Mirror
He published fake torture photos just to pay his bills
But I really stepped back
When Lukwesa Burak
Got a haircut that spits poison and kills
In a
Science Fiction
Wooh oooh oooh
Double feature
Rupert Murdock
Oooh oooh oooh
We'll build a creature
See lawyers fighting
At the Leveson Enquiry
And Adam Bolton wondering
Why the hell don't they fire me
Woh oh oh oh oh oh
At the late night
Sky News feature
Picture Show
Woh oh oh oh oh oh
At the late night
Sky News feature
Picture show
At the late night
Woo ooh ooh
Sky News feature
Picture show
Woh oh oh oh
I wanna go oh oh oh
To the late night
Sky News feature
Picture show
By RKO
Oh oh oh oh oh
At the late night
Sky News feature
Picture show

***

(Camera cuts to the interior of a Starbucks cafe in South London. It is the Starbucks where Jannat Jalil from Sky News has her morning espresso. James Healy is at a table eyeing Jannat. She, being a fan of the Heelers Diaries, knows well he is stalking her. He approaches her table tentatively.)

James: Jannat.
Jannat: Yes James.
James: (awkwardly) I really admired the elegant way,
                               You read the evening news,
                               On Sky the other day.
Jannat: Yes James.
James: Jannat.
Jannat: Yes James.

(Music starts. Other diners sing the part of the Chorus.)

James: The road was long but I ran it.
Chorus: Jannat!
James: The river was broad but I swam it
Chorus: Jannat!
James: I've one thing to say
           And that's dammit Jannat, I love you.
           Here's the ring and now you'll never look back
           True I may have a pot belly and a saggy butt
           But my love for you is deeper than for Lukwesa Burak
           She spoilt her chances with that haircut, tut tut
Jannat: This ring is flashier than Kay Burleigh's mind games.
Chorus: Oh James
Jannat: It fills my heart with passion and sultry flames
Chorus: Oh James
Jannat: And I've one thing to say, and that's James, I'm insane for you too.
James: Dammit Jannat.
Jannat: Oh James, I'm insane.
James: Dammit Jannat.
Jannat: Oh James, I'm insane.
James: Dammit Jannat.
Jannat: Oh James, I'm insane.
James and Jannat: (together) I love you.

***

(Camera cuts to a country road on a dark night. James and Jannat are driving through the rain. The car runs out of petrol. The two sit for a moment in silence.)

Jannat: What kind of man doesn't fill his car with petrol before a long journey?
James: I never put more than ten Euro's worth in the tank.
Jannat: Why?
James: Well I wanted to punish the government for imposing punitive taxation rates on petrol. And I wanted to punish the garages for failing to organise an effective lobby to stop the government imposing this tax. And I wanted to punish the oil conglomerates for trying to corner the market in oil through forward buying, thereby driving the price of a barrel of oil to 100 dollars when it should be less than ten, and perpetually gambling that the price of oil will rise and then forcing it to do so through their astonomical borrowings from collapsed idiot banks. And I wanted to punish the Arabs and the OPEC organisation for operating an illegal oil cartel against the rest of humanity. All of these corrupt vested interest groups have traded on the notion that we will never respond to their price gouging. They have waxed fat on the idea that oil is not a price sensitive commodity. We have allowed them to believe that we will buy their oil no matter what they charge. This is a very negative delusion to encourage in governments, garages or Arabs. It is apt to confuse them.
Jannat: So you punished them by stranding us.
James: Er yes.
Jannat: Oh James.
James: Oh Jannat.
Jannat: I think I might be Muslim.
James: What's that?
Jannat: Nothing. Let's go search for help.

***

(Camera cuts to the two now walking along the roadside in the rain. They are making their way towards a castle in the distance which has a light shining in a single window. The music kicks in.)

Jannat: (singing)
In the velvet darkness
Of the blackest night
No matter where
There's a guiding light

James & Jannat: (singing together)
There's a light
Over at the Murdock place
There's a ligh-igh-igh-ight
Burning in the fireplace
There's a ligh-igh-igh-ight
In the darkness
Of every night

(Camera cuts to the window of the castle. Sky News Overseas foreign affairs correspondent Tim Marshall is sitting at the window watching the rain. Tim Marshall has in the past year been sent to report from Libya, Egypt, Syria, in fact from every trouble spot in the world where there is even the remotest chance that his life might be in danger. An uncharitable observer might conclude that someone at Sky is indeed trying to kill him.)

Tim Marshall: (singing)
The darkness must glow
Down the river of my dreaming
Until Kay Burleigh goes
The sun cannot come streaming
Into my life
Into my ligh-igh-igh- ife

(Camera returns to James and Jannat)

James & Jannat:
There's a light
Over at the Murdock place
There's a ligh-igh-igh-ight
It's burning in the fireplace
There's ligh-igh-igh-ight
In the darkness
Of every night

***

(Camera cuts to James and Jannat knocking on the door of Castle Murdock. The door opens to reveal Kevin Murdock (son of Rupert) dressed as the character Riff Raff from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Behind him we can see Rebekkah Wade, formerly Managing Director at News International, dressed as a sexy maid.)

James: Our car broke down.
Riff Raff: You've come on a very important night. The master is having one of his affairs.
James: You mean now he's cheating on Wendy Deng?
Jannat: Shhh.
Riff Raff: I think perhaps you'd better come inside.

***

(Scene: Castle interior. A group of garishly dressed guests have congregated. James and Jannat stare as without warning Riff Raff bursts into a most infectious musical number. The other party guests join in at just the right places.)

Riff Raff:
I remember
Doing the Truth Warp
Drinking
Those moments when
People gave us direct debit access to their personal bank accounts
To pay for Sky Channel
Let's do the News International again.
Let's bribe the police force again.
It's just a jump to the left
And a step to the righ-igh-igh-ight
You put your hands on your hips
And bring your knees in tigh-igh-ight
But it's tapping people's phones
That really knocks you insa-a-a-a-ane
Let's do the Truth Warp again
Let's do the News Corp again
It's just a jump to the left.
And a step to the righ-igh-igh-ight
You bribe the Chief of Police
And bring your knees in tigh-igh-ight
But it's owning the law
That really knocks us insa-a-a-a-ane
Let's do the News Corp again
Lets bribe the police force again

(Riff Raff and the partygoers collapse in an exhausted heap. James and Jannat don't quite know what to do. Although James has appreciated the verve of the performance and is clapping vigorously.)

Jannat: Let's get out of here.
James: Nonsense. It's just getting good. Let's stay and see what happens next.
Jannat: This is not the Athy Chamber of Commerce James.
James: (With infinitely smug middle class political correctness) They're probably just Muslims with ways different from our own.
Jannat: I'm cold. I'm frightened. And I'm just plain scared. Oh. And I think I'm a Muslim too.
James: (Still infinitely smug and middle class and not really taking anything in.) Don't worry darling. We all are. Now stop being frightened. I'm here. Nothing can possibly go wrong. If we're lucky, in a moment maybe these simple country folk will perform some more shameless parodies from the Rocky Horror Picture Show for our amusement.

***

(As James and Jannat are talking the other party goers and Riff Raff have slowly revived and risen to their feet. Suddenly, a door bursts open behind Jannat's shoulder. Rupert Murdock struts in. Jannat faints. James looks enthused. Rupert launches into his trademark song.)

Rupert:
Not another wordo
I'm Rupert Murdo
And he's... (indicating Riff Raff)
My faithful maitre delice
He's a little brought down
Because when you knocked
He thought you were the
Chief of Police
Don't get strung out
By the way I look
Don't judge a company by its corrupt corporate management
I may look 86 years old
By the light of day
But at night I look positively indigent
I'm your sweet Chief Executive
From sweetly Ineffective
Tasmania-ah-ah-ah

James: (rapping and breaking any number of copyrights held by Jim Sharman and Richard O'Brien)
I'm glad we caught you at home
May we use your phone
We're both in a bit of a hurry
We'll just say where we are
And then get back to the car
We don't want to be any worry

Rupert: (singing)
So you got caught with a breakdown
In the middle of my shakedown
Heelers
Don't you panic
Even if Jannat dumps you
I'll find a more exotic broad to hump you
I'll get you a satanic Hispanic
Cos I'm your sweet Chief Executive
From sweetly Ineffective
Tasmania-ah-ah-ah
Sweet Chief Executive
From sweetly ineffective
Tasmania-ah-ah-ah

(Rupert pauses to drink a cup of water. A man emerges from the chorus and throws a pie at him. The pie is neatly deflected by Wendy Deng who quickly hustles the would be assailant away while whaling the living tripe out of him with a metal dish.)

Rupert: (rapping)
Why don't you stay for the night
You could both have a bite
I won't tolerate any... dissension
I've been building a corrupt corporate media monopoly
You know with fake oversight from a board of directors who are all related to me
And they're good to relieve my... tension
Because
I'm your sweet Chief Executive
From sweetly ineffective
Tasmania-ah-ah
Whuh
Sweet Chief Executive
From sweetly ineffective
Tasmania-ah-ah
Oh
Don't get strung out
Because I bought the police
Don't judge a corrupt police buying company
By its corrupt corporate management
I may seem to buy a lot of cops
By the light of day
But at night
I get positively extravagant
Because I'm your sweet Chief Executive
From sweetly ineffective
Tasmania-ah-ah-ah

(Rupert changes tack suddenly and incomprehensibly)

Rupert: (singing)
The transducer will seduce ya.
You're a sensual attapensual
When we tapped your phones
Did you hear a bell ring???
You better wise up
Lord Leveson
You better shape those thighs up
And close those eyes up
I've got a gun
And I'm launching a Sunday Sun

Charles Grey: Until she cried out...

Jannat: Allah U Akbar.

(The music stops. Everyone turns and stares. Some of the more ghoulish extras cower a bit. Jannat somewhat guiltily puts her hands over her lips and looks apologetic. By the way, I challenge anyone to discern what those lines about a sensual attapensual were in the original Rocky Horror Show movie. Not since Peter Sarstead sang about lowly bontags in Where Do You Go To My Lovely, has there been such an incomprehensible vaguely obscene lyric. Or how about the bit, again in the original Rocky Horror, when Rupert sang: "How do ya do, I'm... Field Mabs Meim... faithful handyman." What the heck is Field Mabs Meim? The enigmas endure.)

***

(The awkward moment following Rupert's song and Jannat's exclamation is brought to a halt by Riff Raff drawing a ray gun and vapourising Rupert. Rebekkah Wade is upset by this turn of events.)

Rebekkah: Why did you do that? I thought you liked him. He liked you.

Riff Raff: (With infantile fury) He never liked me. And it was time for him to go. Heelers has clearly run out of steam. He's just lifting lines from the Rocky Horror Show. There aren't even any jokes.

(Riff Raff and Rebekkah turn slowly and threateningly towards James and Jannat)

Riff Raff: (With preternatural menace) You two had better leave us. My beautiful Rebekkah get ready. We return to Tasmania immediately. Prepare the transit beam.

(James and Jannat, having seen the Rocky Horror Show, know it's time to flee the building.)

***
Scene: Castle exterior. James and Jannat fall in the mud and continue scrambling towards the gate. Behind them a spectacular Truth Warp bathes the News International HQ in mystic police investigations. Presently the entire building vanishes. Gone. On a voodoo wind. Back to Tasmania. For a moment on the cold night air it is almost as if you can hear the voice of former Sun editor Kelvin MacKenzie hissing: "A hundred and seventy police officers investigating us. That's more than investigated Lockerbie. Cor blimey. Worra waste. Cor Bliiiiiimmmmmaaaiiiieeeee." James and Jannat are left alone in the dirt. A voiceover kicks in. It is Charles Grey whom we met very briefly and inexplicably during the last song, now reprising his career best performance as the Criminologist in the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Charles Grey: (intoning)
And crawling
On the planet face
Some insects
Called the human race
Not members of the Board of News International
And not entitled to any dignity or respect or grace
Or indeed help from the police in the event that Rupert Murdock's staff, agents or companies assail, assault, violate, transgress, phone tap, kill, rape, burglarise, conduct posthumous show trials (like they did with Jimmy Saville to distract public attention from the Leveson Enquiry), or otherwise mitigate our rights in any way before the law
Even though
Cor blimey
We don't even let the police hack the phones of Jihadis
And Murdock's crew were doing it as a matter of course
To all of us
Cor blimey
Because
Basically
We're all lost
Lost in time
And lost in space
And meaning

***

The screen goes dark. The plaintive male voice from the opening credits returns to sing over the closing credits. The lyrics of the closing refrain are even more poignant than before. If that's possible.

The Voice: (singing)
There was once something rare
About Lukwesa Burak's hair
It made me want to grab her and kiss
I dreamed that we might
Run away in the night
But now I think I'll give it a miss
And Lisa Holland drove round
Old Tripoli town
With Saif Gadaffi sitting on her knee
And Rebekkah Wade
Was a sexy maid
She was
At least she worked for me
In a
Science Fiction
Double Feature
Rupert Murdock
We'll build a creature
See Alistair Campbell fighting
With Adam Bolton
Who's turning puce
And now quite molten
Woh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
At the late night
Sky News feature
Picture show
I really was there
For Adam Bolton's live melt down on air
When Alistair Campbell straightened his tie
And young Wendy Deng
Had developed a yen
For a billionaire 86 year old man
Then something went wrong
For Osama Bin Laden
He was caught in a special forces commando raid
And at a deadly pace
He got shot in the face
And this is what his last message said
Science fiction
Oooh oooh ooh
The Leveson Enquiry
Corrupt policeman
Massive bribery
See Freemasons fighting
James and Jannat
And the Murdock Family stars in
Forbidden planet
Woh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
At the late night
Sky News feature
Picture show
I wanna go
Woh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
To the late night
Sky News feature
Surrender show
By RKO
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
To the late night
Double feature
Sky News movie
Picture show

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

idea for a novelty music video in aid of the bjhanc* foundation


Note: We need to get the old British golf commentator Peter Alliss to do a guest spot in this video.

The song is a parody of Living Next Door To Alice. This is how it goes:

"It was strangely optimistic of me
To send off a job application to the BBC
But I'd always dreamed of working next door
To Alliss."

Peter Alliss then interjects: "Alliss? Alliss? Who the f--- is Alliss?"

"Now they've replied formally
And they weren't exactly too nice to me
And I've gotta get used to not living next door to Alliss"

Peter Alliss again interrupts the song in his quintessentially plummy tones to enquire: "Alliss? Alliss? Who the f--- is Alliss?"

"I don't what I'm doing
Or where I'm gonna go
There's got to be a reason
But I just don't wanna know
Now I've got to get used to not living next door to Alliss."

Peter Alliss: "What on earth is he talking about?"

"I've always wanted to be
A left wing conformist at the BBC
Covering up for Jihadis
And the gangster bank HSBC
Like Alliss..."

Peter Alliss says: "Heyyy!"

"Now I realise it's not my destiny
To frame Cliff Richard with the help of corrupt Rupert Murdock subverted freemasonic police
So I'd better get used to not living next door to Alliss..."

Peter Alliss says: "Too right, you'd better."

"I don't know what I'm doing
Or where I'm going to go
I guess there is a reason
But I just don't want to know
Now I've gotta get used to not living next door to Alliss
Yes I've gotta get used to not promoting the atheistic suicide of our culture
Next door to Alliss..."

Peter Alliss says: "What charity is this in aid of again?  Sorry. Alliss? Alliss? Who the f--- is Alliss"






* The BJHANC is the Buy James Healy A New Car foundation.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

chessnutz

(Our weekly chess puzzle)
************************

Bobby Fisher versus Ronald De La Rochefoucauld
London 1977
*************
Fisher playing the White pieces has a lot of action going on. His rooks are locking horns with their opponents and his queen is well forward and similarly engaged. The Black king is exposed but he's a piece in front. Can you see how White decisively turned the tables in this apocalyptic end game?
*************
Answer: Fisher was well aware of persistent rumours that De La Rochefoucauld was involved with freemasonry. At an opportune moment he lean forward and asked his opponent: "Been worshiping Jahbulon lately?" De La Rochefoucauld turned pale, rose from the table and stormed out of the room, thereby forfeiting the game. Jahbulon is of course the name under which freemasons worship satan. Fisher went on to win the world championship but the International Chess Federation has since outlawed the Jahbulon manoeuvre in open chess competitions.

Sunday, March 08, 2015

J'accuse

A children's home called Haut La Garenne on the island of Jersey is under investigation.
Allegations have emerged of serial sexual abuse, ritual violations, rapes and murders, taking place at the home.
The large number of allegations along with several other items of evidentiary information which have come into the public domain, point to many decades of violation, abuse, rape and murder of children at Haut La Garenne.
My analysis is that Haut La Garenne was used by a satanic cult for the ritual abuse of children.
My analysis is that this cult involves many levels of society on the island of Jersey, including political and law enforcement figures as well as prominent members of the business community.
I am disquieted by the manner in which the investigation is being handled.
I am disquieted that all members of staff who have at any time worked at Haut La Garenne have not been arrested, detained and interrogated.
I am disquieted that the senior officer investigating the case has been removed from the investigation.
I am disquieted at the manner in which the new senior officer investigating the case has dismissed many of the more serious allegations.
I do not believe the current investigators are seeking the truth.
I call on all men and women of good will to boycott the island of Jersey.
I call on all men and women of good will to boycott the products, people, industries, and holday resorts of the island of Jersey.
I call on all fund managers, investment comptrollers, and banking executives to divest immediately from the island of Jersey.
I call on David Cameron Prime Minister of Great Britain to take personal responsibility for the investigation.
I call on Queen Elizabeth the Second to intervene directly in this case, so that the murdered, raped, violated and ritually sacrificed children of Haut La Garenne will at last receive some form of justice.
There is no excuse for acquiescing in the child murders, rapes, ritual satanic sacrifices and sundry other tortures and violations, which have taken place at Haut La Garenne on the island of Jersey before the eyes of the world.
End this.
Bring the murderers to account.
Do it England.

Friday, March 06, 2015

the powers that be

The noble Heelers wanders up a corridor at Kilcullen Parish Centre.
A rather good looking woman is talking at the far end to the inimitable Uncle Scutch.
You will be spared gentle readers my usual maunderings about her looks because I have since been informed she's happily married.
Walking up the corridor I do not recognise her.
She exclaims as I draw abreast: "It's the famous James Healy!"
This is the sort of greeting that I heartily approve of and I therefore choose to linger.
For his part Uncle Scutch immediately decides to argue the point the woman's just made about my fame.
"Do you know James?" quoths he dubiously.
"Everybody knows him," answereth she.
"How do you know him?" challenges the Uncle more dubious than ever.
"Oh you know," murmureth she somewhat evasively.
Reticent with the words, eh.
Clearly the situation demands further professional elucidation from someone with a Certificate in Journalism from the College of Commerce Rathmines.
"Who are you?" I enquire bluntly.
"I'm Rosario Power," sez she.
Realisation dawns.
"You're not Paddy Power's daughter are you?" I blurted.
"I am," sez she.
This was all a bit rude even by my usual standards of rudeness.
The late Paddy Power was an influential government Minister and parliamentarian in the Republic of Ireland for many decades. I shouldn't have said his name to her the way I did. It's just public figures often seem like public property and anyway I tend to communicate in blurts.
I hadn't stopped blurting yet either.
"Your sister Loretto," I babbled, "I met her once about thirty years ago and when I told her that she had been named after an order of nuns, she proceeded to give me the slagging of my life. She was merciless. I'm turning red thinking about it now. I thought I was quick with the words. I never stood a chance. And your brother Sean, the guy in parliament. I once wrote some unfair rubbish about him and Fianna Fail on my website. Sorry about that. And there someone else in your family I've met. Oh. There's your other brother with the beard who the one was in the Green Party, the one that exposed the developers giving brown envelopes to Councillors. I phoned him once to say well done about..."
You gotta understand bold readers I didn't realise she was married at this stage.
I'll rue the day when it's not worth my while blathering desperately at strange rather good looking women I meet in corridors just on the off chance.
(The above line is best appreciated if you imagine me saying it in the voice of Mr Burns from The Simpsons television cartoon.)
Uncle Scutch decided to throw me a life jacket.
"The meeting's about to start," yawneth he, "we'd better go in."

time and tide

Flicking through the channels on the sexevision.
I alighted on a politics programme presented by the broadcaster Vincent Brown.
Someone among his guests was show boating about the Catholic Church.
It was: "Catholic Church this... Catholic Church that... and Catholic Church the other..."
Vincent Brown stopped the twaddle.
Vincent Brown said: "Most sex abuse cases arose outside the church. And no one is doing anything about them."
I stopped dead.
In the past it seems Vincent Brown has been very much misunderstood.
Mainly by me.
Yes, I have spoken harshly about Vincent Brown in the past.
I will not do so again.

Wednesday, March 04, 2015

horrorscopes

(with Mystic Muggins)

Aries (The Goat): The moon is in your Uranus. But it could be worse. Think of the other orifices it might be in. Try not to worry so much about the future. A man with the letter 'Y' in his name will ask you to marry him. What they hey. Say yes.

Libra (The Something Or Other): The mucous is in your nostrils. Try cutting down on dairy and exercising more.

Sagittarius (The Chicken Curry): Yummm. Chicken Curry.

Capricorn (The Goat): Your propensity for climbing every mountain should not lead you to think you're that Von Trapp woman. You're not.

Cancer (The Crab): Saturn rising in Betelgeuse will leave you feeling listless. Learn to think about the good things in life: Sunsets, the mountains, oceans, trees, the first Die Hard movie, Mad Max 2, etc etc.

Zogsplox (The Brief Case): A series of events at work may conspire to give your day a lift. A man with 'Y' in his name will ask you to marry him but you should refer him to one of your friends born under the sign of Aries.

Gemini (The Twins): Yummm. Twins.

The Rest Of You: Just wing it.

oooh ahhh up the haircuts

THE CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE COLUMN

I am loathe to praise the Sunday Independent Newspaper but it performed a public service at the weekend in publishing an article by Mairia Cahill about the terrorist murder gang styled the Irish Republican Army or IRA.
Mairia Cahill speaks with authority about the IRA.
In fact she is one of those rare people in the present era that the satanic hoodlums of the IRA are actually afraid of.
Her article makes clear that the IRA is functioning now as a fully fledged international criminal mafia.
She notes that the IRA has been laundering money in the Republic of Ireland through front businesses including a chain of barber shops.
Her words are a significant contribution in raising public awareness of the ongoing economic and political hijacking of Ireland by the narco traficante terrorists of the IRA.




(Copy to the Irish National Lottery commission whose computer terminals seem to be crashing an awful lot these days in shall we say mysterious circumstances prior to draws.)