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, August 07, 2006

grace

One dulcet afternoon in the year of grace 1978 my American cousin Pauline told me a Jewish friend of hers liked me.
Rather thrilled at my cousin's friend's good taste, I immediately informed my best pal Sean Baines.
My best friend said: "I hate the Jews."
His father was serving with the UN in Lebanon.
"The Jews nearly killed my father," he said. "I hate them."
He called over another child, a freckled sneak called Trevor Lardner, famous for being the only kid in the school nearly as unpopular as me. Lardner on being informed of the matter under discussion, was not slow to chime in with: "I hate the Jews too."
I was 12 years old.
I began to argue with my best friend about what he had said.
We argued the following day as well.
And the day after.
It went on for weeks.
I remember it as the first argument of my life.
The first one that mattered.
The argument that taught me to argue.
At night I would rack my brains trying to come up with an answer that would force him to admit his statement was wrong.
The weeks ran into months.
Each day I would meet up with Sean and try out a new point, or a new angle, or a new charge.
Each day he answered me, at first confidently and with bravado, but after a while with growing unease and no little rancour.
Our epic debate lasted until the first winds of Autumn were blowing through Kilcullen from the Wicklow mountains.
Early in September as we made our way to school for the resumption of classes, I turned to him and said: "Jesus was a Jew."
The argument ended there.

I have known enough of darkness in my life to recognise well the moments of light.
But here's an odd thing.
Any time I have stepped towards the light, I have been vaguely aware of someone or something trying to stop me.
It's happened a few times.
A temptation.
A distraction.
And once in Rome a fully fledged satanic attack.
(Remind me to tell you about that one sometime.)

Mel Gibson spent most of his life making films that will never help anyone to do anything. After a liftetime producing empty hymnals to machismo, he's finally made a film that may have the capacity to genuinely touch people. It does not seem impossible to me that his current woes are a form of satanic attack intended to derail him from a course in life that was moving towards the light.

5 Comments:

Blogger Genevieve said...

I once felt that I had experienced a Satanic attack. It still makes my blood run cold to think of it.

I don't know what's wrong with Mel Gibson. It's quite sad. His old demons have reared their ugly heads, and I guess you can take that figuratively or literally.

I didn't see the Passion of the Christ. I was afraid the movie was so gorey that it would haunt me for the rest of my life.

6:17 AM  
Blogger heelers said...

Thank heavens someone commented on this post!
Gen I could hear the desert winds blowing through Tombstone after I wrote it...
I'm trying to say that I felt as if I'd gone out on a limb, said too much, said it unclearly, and said it the wrong way.
Vielen dank!
And of course your reply raises as many questions as the post itself!
James

9:56 PM  
Blogger chamki said...

What is a satanic attack?

2:19 PM  
Blogger heelers said...

Umm...
J

3:32 AM  
Blogger Genevieve said...

I'm trying to say that I felt as if I'd gone out on a limb, said too much, said it unclearly, and said it the wrong way.

I often feel that way about my blog, even though I usually stay safely near the trunk. :D

To answer a few of your questions, I was physically and mentally exhausted, extremely stressed and facing tremendous change and upheaval in my life. At the very worst time of all this, I had an extremely vivid dream in which I was face to face with the very essence of evil.

2:54 AM  

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