The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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

Monday, November 12, 2018

the lifting of the veil

Crows rising and falling on the winds above Byrne's Woods.
They're veritably dancing upon the air.
A group of magpies shadowing them.
The crows are strong but the magpies can fly rings around them.
I haven't seen anything like this before.
The creatures are playing in the creation.
There are two crows wheeling and turning in formation, wing upon wing, very close to each other.
A magpie flies up alongside, then dives between them.
The crows scatter then fall into a pursuit of the magpie who lets them get close before wheeling around them and into the trees.
Moments later the magpie rises out of the trees and once more matches the crows in flight.
Another magpie is being chased by another group of crows.
Rising and falling, closer and closer.
She eludes them with elan.
When they get close they can't match her on the turn.
It's all so joyful.
"Is this heaven Lord?" I murmur suddenly.

Sunday, November 11, 2018

the renegade reboot

Opening shot: A motorcycle rider roaring towards the camera across a blistering desert landscape.

Coolo American Voice: "Benedict the Sixteenth was a Pope. And a good one. But he was framed for incompetence by other Would Be Popes turned bad. Would Be Popes who orchestrated a continuing series of scandals against the Catholic Church using anti Catholic Media Groups worldwide in an attempt to slander Christianity out of existence, and set Benedict up to take the fall. Now he patrols the badlands. An outlaw hunting other outlaws. A warrior. A loner. A.... Pope Emeritus.

Music: The classic Renegade theme kicks in.

"Ner ner ner ner ner ner ner ner
Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner ner ner
Nerdle ner ner"

Saturday, November 10, 2018

scene from the motion picture vampires of dublin

Camera Reveal: Dracula is strolling on a moonlit walk with a very pretty girl. She's got a certain je ne sais quoi. Instantly engaging. The quality of the ingenue. Sort of like Ola Rae from the Michael Jackson Thriller video. She's got it. Whatever it is. Dracula is trying to impress her with bravado and big talk. He is perhaps trying to hard.

Dracula: Of course being a vampire is not all fun and games. There are times you just want to settle down. You wonder, what's it all about? I remember Leonardo Da Vinci asking me for advice about getting old. I told him whatever age we are is a good age. But do I really believe it? The 500's are a hard age. I'm telling you. It feels like nobody loves you when you're 500. Where do you even go to meet girls? And female expectations keep changing. Women keep moving the goal posts. Back in the Regency you could add a hundred years to your age and they'd love it. Now if you're older than twenty one, they don't want to know you unless they've seen the deeds to your castle. In which case you don't want to know them. How does one keep up? And I'm changing too. So much adjustment to make in a world that never stands still. Hormones raging. They really rage when you're 552 and you can't get any. The 500's make being a teenager look like a walk in the park.

FX: Incidental music implying that the pretty ingenue is changing into a werewolf or something.

(Camera tracks from Dracula turning towards her slowly as camera zooms in to her face and freezes.)

Music: A jarring note.

(The girl has turned into the British comedian Tim Vine.)

Dracula: You! From the Snooker programme.

FX: The baseline beat from the Zombie dance sequence in Michael Jackson's Thriller starts. Tim Vine dances really well. An array of unappealing British comedians and celebrities emerge from tombs and park benches and the BBC canteen and such like. There's Jonathan Ross, Jo Brand, Ricky Gervais, etc etc. They dance very effectively with Tim Vine.)

Tim Vine: (Singing) Cos this is the BBC,
BBC comedy night
No one's gonna save you
From the politically correct atheistic left wing shite
BBC comedy night
You're fighting for your life
Inside a BBC
Anodyne toilet of shite
Ner ner
Night creatures crawl
With a Marxian mandate for abortion advocacy
There's no escaping the compulsory taxation which finances the Islam inside
There's no place you can hide
Doo doo doo 
It's close to midnight
Soviet sympathising presenters are closing in from every side.
You try to run
But a freemason frames you for child abuse like we did to Cliff Richard
You want some fun
You still think you can speak freely in your own country
You peasant swine
You're out of time
Coth thith ith a thiller
Thiller night
No one's gonna save you
From the trade unionist with the forty eyes
Thiller night
You're fighting for your life
Inside a BBC
Toilet of left wing shite"

(Dracua flees pursued by BBC zombies.)

Vincent Price: "Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand
And whomsoever dares to own a TV
Must finance the BBC
Whilst anyone else who shall be found
Opposing Muslim immigration to our land
Must stand and be labelled a racist by us
For making such an inconvenient fuss
The funk of forty thousand leftists
manipulating discourse for the sheer hell of it
And grisly Jihadists from every third world hell hole
Are closing in to steal your soul
And though you fight to say alive
Your society starts to collollopse
For no mere mortal can resist
The evil of... BBC bollocks"

Monday, November 05, 2018

de re ducula

Sitting at the window seat in the Tearman Cafe.
I beckon the Manageress.
She approaches.
"I miss the wooden ducks," I tell her.
"You weren't the only one who complained," sez she.
"I wasn't complaining. That was public discourse. Intended to edify and stimulate. I was teaching but I was learning too. I had no complaint at all."
"Well they're gone."
"A pity. Having just gotten used to wooden duck displays promoting mutual masturbation as marriage, I was starting to feel quite progressive. I was looking forward  to seeing your ducks embracing the rest of the liberal atheistic agenda for our country. I was looking forward to seeing a duck having an abortion. And I couldn't wait to see your asssisted suicide ducks. Or a couple of your ducks euthanising an elderly duck."

michael d higgins and the plot that worked

A few weeks before Ireland's Presidential elections, the ultra left wing IRA infiltrated Marxian atheist abortionist, contraceptivist, national broadcaster  RTE, financed by compulsory taxation on the citizenry but utterly unaccountable to them, claimed that an opinion poll showed incumbent candidate Michael D Higgins would win 70 percent of the vote.
In the actual election last week only 40 percent of the population voted.
The atheistic abortionist bigoted Marxian anti Catholic Higgins won half of that vote.
That is to say he won the votes of 20 percent of the population whereas RTE had been suggesting he would win 70 percent of the overall eligible vote.
RTE collapsed the potential voting turnout for Higgins' opponents by releasing the nonsense figure claiming 70 percent of the population would vote for him.
How did we get from 70 percent pf the overall population supporting Higgins in an opinion poll to the actual overall percentage of the population who voted for Higgins being just 20 percent?
Because the 70 percent figure was invented.
Come back Vladdie Putin all is forgiven.
Mother Ireland you're rearing them yet.

heelers first law of womanology

You can learn an awful lot from a woman's eyes.
You can learn nothing from her magnificent silken clad thighs.

Corollary: To the modern lecher a come hither look is indistinguishable from a get lost creep.

Thursday, November 01, 2018

supernatural qualities of atheism

I'm not suggesting the universe is God.
I'm not suggesting infinity is God.
I'm suggesting infinity is a supernatural concept routinely included by atheists in their cosmology without them even realising it.
Infnity points to God.

the story of my quarrel with judge peter charlton

Judge Peter Charlton has concluded his report into a case of police corruption in Ireland where senior officers framed hero cop Maurice McCabe using a trumped up claim of child abuse..
Judge Charlton has concluded that former chief of police Noirin O'Sullivan didn't participate in the framing of hero cop Maurice McCabe for child abuse.
Judge Charlton has also concluded that Independent Newspapers journalist Paul Williams was not a party to the framing of hero cop Maurice McCabe for child abuse.
So, no worries there then.

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

supernatural qualities in atheism

Even in the version of science which is deliberately atheistic, we encounter realities that comport qualities that are essentially mystical.
When observing the universe, one legitimately asks as to its extent.
How big is it?
Immediate speculations present.
It is limitlessly big.
In other words it goes on forever.
That is to say it is infinite.
The encounter with the concept of forever or infinity begs a particularly leading question.
How can something go on forever?
I am suggesting that forever boggles the human mind in that when we consider infnity normal reasoning and rationale will not go there.
A serious reflection on forever leads inevitably to a conception of mystery.
Infinite mystery in fact and as a fact.
Let's try a second speculation.
The universe is expanding and is not limitless.
This also begs some particularly leading questions.
If the universe is not limitless what lies beyond its furthest boundary?
Again I suggest we meet the concept of infinity once we step up to the notion that the universe or existence (I use the two as synonyms) has a boundary.
What can exist beyond existence and what can cause the existence of something beyond existence?
If we set out on this speculation we arrive at another mind boggling, zen like, teachable moment.
We are in the presence of infinity.
Again the mind's capacity to hold the notion is simply not there.
It boggles.
Right then.
Let's drop the extent of the universe in geometric space.
Let's ask how old it is or what is its extent in time?
At one stage the most prevalent atheistic answer to this speculation ran: The universe is limitlessly old and has always existed without prior cause.
This was the idea favoured by Einstein.
Limitlessly old means we meet the concept of infinity again.
It is this concept that I am claiming is inherently supernatural.
It is not unknown because we don't know it yet.
It is unknown because it is unknowable.
Remind you of anything else concept wise?
Anyway, no matter what we do with infinity, it recurs and each time it recurs, it consistently boggles the mind.
In recent years the broader culture of scientific enquiry (ie not the specifically atheistic branch) has concluded that the universe was created in a single instant at a single point.
This notion is described as the big bang.
If we allow it to be an atheistic notion for a moment, we are left asking: What came before the big bang?
What lies outside the boundary of the big bang?
What caused the big bang?
We once more encounter an Unknown factor which appears unlimited by our conceptual constraints and undefinable within them.
Once more the mind boggles.
You can see that I am using the term boggle to connote a type of humbling realisation where nothing can be realised.
I am not advocating the quietism of Zen philosophy.
I am advocating the admission that within every conception of reality postulated by atheists there is the necessity of an unknowable mystery one way or the other.
Working forward in time with regard to the universe, we may ask: will the universe go on forever?
We are meeting forever again.
Can atheism survive this encounter?
If the universe ends in entropy, a nothingness identified as the utter exhaustion of all energy, as some theorists maintain, what comes after the entropy?
Anyone feel a faint boggle yet?
Even in the realms of what I call philosophical mathematics, the concept of infinity is necessary.
Yet even in mathematics the concept of infinity makes no sense.
We meet it.
We use it, or so we think.
At no point have we stated it in a way that a human mind can call knowable.
At every point within human conceptions of reality if we advance far enough  in rationale, we meet infinity.
An ultimate eternal mystery.
The concept of an ultimate eternal mystery is inherent to all practical atheisms, that is to say it is inherent to atheistic conceptions of reality whose proponents attempt to justify themselves rationally.
Eternal essentially supernatural mystery is integral to every would be atheistic conception of reality.
Cf: God.

Thursday, October 25, 2018

de ducks publica

Sitting with Phoenicia Baines in a cafe.
There is a display of carved wooden ducks in the window.
Some of the ducks are dressed in coat and tails.
Some are dressed as bridesmaids.
Two are dressed as husband and wife.
I find the whole montage quite charming.
Phoenicia calls over the Manageress who runs the place.
"Are those ducks a comment on gay marriage?"
"They are."
The two preen happily while I look a bit rum.
"Very progressive."
"It's just my way of saying what I have to say."
They're still preening.
I look at the display whose deep import had earlier escaped me.
There are indeed two boy ducks together.
They had looked to me like Best Men having a casual chat.
Two girl ducks.
They were the ones I'd thought were bridesmaids.
And a boy girl couple of ducks.
Boringly married without any progressive variations one assumes.
Well, I'd guessed correctly they were bride and groom.
The Manageress and Pheonicia turn to me for comment but I am gazing into the middle distance.
I am thinking: If this is how it is with cute wooden duck displays in the Tearman Cafe, then who can stand?
But I do not verbalise.
Presently Pheonicia leaves.
The Manageress returns to the kitchen.
I look at the ducks tenderly.
"Don't worry," I tell them.
It is the work of a minute to rearrange the ducks as boy girl, boy girl, and boy girl.
And of course Phoenicia Baines comes back.
Of course she does.
Maybe even to check.
She hurries to the kitchen.
I actually hear her saying: "James moved the ducks."
The Manageress appears.
Phoenicia exits again, damn her.
There follows some Benny Hill hokum.
The Manageress exclaims "James," and returns the ducks to the progressive line up.
I wait till she goes back to the kitchen and move em back to boy girl, boy girl, boy girl.
The Manageress returns again.
Hands on hips.
"Wait," I say.
Then I stand to better demonstrate.
"This duck here is Tom Robinson Duck. He's not the British political activist who has tried to warn about Islamism. He's the Tom Robinson who had a rock band in the 1980s. He sang War Baby which was rather good. And also something about a radio which was brilliant. He also had a song called Sing If You're Glad To be Gay. A lot of people sang that song and died of a big disease with a little name. Then Tom Robinson met a woman he loved. They settled down together and have children. It was too late of course for all the people who died singing his song. Wait. Wait. Just a minute. This duck here is Black Lesbian Feminist Duck. She was wandering around Central Park and she met Mayor De Blasio Of New York Duck. They fell in love. They got married and have children and are still together. These two other ducks as you know have been together from the start and are still together."