The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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

Saturday, June 07, 2008

apologia pro stunning good looks mea

(painted by Divya Sharma)

Friday, June 06, 2008

the dad wins

Phonecall for the Dad from an official at the County Council.
Mags Masefield takes the call.
The message is that the Dad will be permitted to vote in the EU referendum.
On presentation at the polling booth, his name will be restored to the electoral register.
The same applies to me, my brother Peter, and my brother Tom, all of whose names were removed from the register last year without any prior warning, notification or discussion.
The Dad is the only person I know who could have gotten this result.

its waitressing jim but not as we know it

This happened last Autumn.
I walked into the Westbury hotel.
I went to the upstairs cafe and sat down.
The Westbury hotel is supposed to be classy.
You can end up paying a tenner for coffee and a scone but it has a certain ambience.
There's often a pianist tootling away infernally.
Armchairs to recline in.
It's kinda plush.
I had developed the habit of meeting friends here.
Some of the girls like it.
So there I was.
The Arab waiter passed me several times.
He had a smirk on his face.
It was as though something was amusing him.
I have no acquaintance with this waiter.
I have never spoken to him.
He has worked at the Westbury for several years but has never given me service.
I don't know him...
But I did recognise him.
I recognised him because he is the same person who, on upwards of twenty occasions, has attempted to engage me in unarmed combat on Grafton Street.
He has done this by the time honoured method of jumping out from among a group of his friends and shoulder jostling me as I pass.
Sometimes the jostle comes from behind.
Sometimes from the side.
Invariably I just walk away.
You see, I have had no real guarantee that the combat would have been genuinely unarmed. I know only that I would have been unarmed.
And I have never fought him.
Perhaps he thinks this is cowardice on my part.
It certainly doesn't make me feel very manly.
But I prefer to think it is a measure of my classiness.
Tonight he passes my table about a dozen more times, grinning as he goes.
I take some rueful comfort in the fact that at least here he isn't trying to shoulder jostle me.
A member of the management staff at the Westbury approaches my chair.
When I say she is management, I mean she is higher up than the waiter.
She is cool and professional and courteous.
She asks me will I have something to eat.
I order the salmon and a pot of tea.
She tells me she is from Eastern Europe.
The waiter approaches.
He whispers something in her ear.
She frowns and gives him a dismissive wave.
He whispers in her ear again.
She frowns and says something sharpish.
He takes her arm and says: "Don't serve him."
He begins to drag her backwards across the floor. That is to say, while I'm watching, he forcibly pulls her away from my chair, with one hand on her shirt and the other on her arm. She remains facing towards me as he does it, a look of disbelief on her face.
Listen folks.
I filmed UFO's over Kildare in 2006.
The best UFO footage taken in Western Europe in the past fifty years.
I still say the strangest thing I've ever seen is the little Arab waiter dragging the manageress away from me across the floor of the Westbury hotel.
I stand up.
This is the moment when I might have stepped forward fists flailing, with a cry of: "Unhand her you miserable cur."
No doubt my voice would have sounded about as macho as Mini Mouse.
I said nothing.
I don't brawl with waiters.
I turn and walk out of the Westbury hotel for the last time.
No doubt the waiter thinks I'm a coward.
But I know I have something the Westbury hotel will never have.
Real class.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

sensational footage proves heelers really is being tailed by two vladimir putins

Just because I'm paranoid, doesn't mean they're not out to get me.

(Pic by Irina Vronsky, KGB Section Chief Dublin with special responsibility for forward planning and seduction of enemy agents.)

the dad versus the irish government

My father phoned the County Council today.
He phoned to ask why his name had been removed from the electoral register before the last election.
He was informed by a lady official that an application form would be sent out allowing him to have his name reinstated on the electoral register.
The Dad said he would accept no such form.
He pointed out that he had received an official assurance a year ago from another official that the situation would be investigated and an explanation given.
He reiterated his demand to be reinstated on the electoral register.

(Several hundred thousand people, including me, had their names removed from the electoral rolls without warning or explanation before the last election. Over a hundred thousand immigrants were added to the rolls at the same time. It seemed to me that the Fianna Fail Party (their name means Soldiers Of Destiny) which comprised our government, had deliberated altered the rolls, with the expectation that the newly installed immigrants would tend to vote for socialisty Fianna Fail, and older voters who were being removed would tend to vote against Fianna Fail. Of course Fianna Fail won the election. You may remember me calling on the Irish people to rise up and reject those same elections as an attempted coup d'etat. Ah. We were all much younger then.)

diminutions of sovereignty

The United States of America this week introduced a requirement that Irish passengers intending to travel to the USA, give at least 72 hours notification in advance.
This represents a sea change in the normally close ties between the two countries.
Irish visitors to the United States have in the past been welcomed without any such requirements regarding prior notification.

The announcement of the new policy follows the recent detention by the Americans of an 18 year old with an Irish passport who was arrested at a terrorist safe house in Baghdad. The 18 year old is the son of Iraqi Arabs but has an Irish passport. His family has lived in Ireland since the early 1990s. Our collossally stupid Irish government has for some unfathomable reason furnished them all with Irish passports.
I do not understand why my government is allowing Arab terrorists to call themselves Irish.
The Irish government has issued at least 20,000 passports to Muslims.
The pro-immigration Irish Times admits that there are 40,000 Muslims living in Ireland.
My analysis is that the real figure is likely to be close to 100,000.
But hey.
Only 20,000 of them have passports.

The closest we've had to an explanation for this curiously generous Irish government policy of issuing passports to Arabs, has come through the vaguest of media reports.
Again if we go back to the early 1990s we see the first significant disbursal of Irish passports to Arabs.
At the time a Saudi sheikh received an Irish passport after making a donation of a million pounds to the Irish Prime Minister (Taoiseach) Albert Reynolds.
Albert Reynolds denied that he knew the Saudi's million pounds had been paid to Albert Reynolds' pet food company which at the time was managed by Albert Reynolds' son.

How many Irish politicians have been purchased by Arab terrorists?

Question 2.
How many Irish judges have been purchased by Arab terrorists?

The Americans have decided not to wonder about these questions any longer.

The Irish government policy of issuing passports to Arab Muslims who smuggle themselves into our country is now for the first time affecting our relationships with long term allies.
It is also putting us on the wrong side of history.

the black jackets for beginners

The "Black Jackets" are a Muslim gang currently operating in Dublin.
The gang has been extending its power throughout the city over the past five years.
Ordinary Irish people are now accustomed to being harassed by members of this gang on Grafton Street, O'Connell Street, Abbey Street and other city centre locations.
A member of the gang works as a security man in the McDonalds fast food outlet on Grafton Street.
Another works on security at the Stephens Green/College of Surgeons carpark.
(Infiltrating security companies has given the gang the capacity to insert itself into a number of businesses and organisations which otherwise would have been difficult to penetrate.)
A member of the gang works as a sign holder for Timberland, often standing on Grafton Street or Dawson Street.
(Working as sign holders allows the gang to carry out monitoring and other activities on the streets without fear of being moved on for loitering.)
Several gang members are on the staff at the Kylemore cafe on O'Connell Street and in the Kylemore foodcourt in the Stephens Green Centre.
The gang meets on a daily basis at the front tables in the Kylemore Cafe on O'Connell Street.
Kylemore Cafe security staff turn a blind eye to harassment activities carried out in the cafe.
The Black Jackets gang is multi ethnic.
Its composition is essentially Arab and Pakistani but it also includes Malaysian, Indonesian and Indian (Hindu) Muslims.
My information is that the gang has associations with Nigerian groups based in Dublin.
The Black Jackets is a street gang whose unifying ethos is Islam.
It is hiding in plain sight in the city of Dublin.

this weeks fashion parade

It was Summer in Dublin.
And all through the city centre, members of the "Black Jackets" Muslim crime gang were on parade.
Slouching down Grafton Street.
Monitoring police movements on O'Connell Street.
Holding meetings at their office in the front tables at the Kylemore cafe in view of The Spire landmark, the same Kylemore cafe where they maintain a presence throughout the day seven days a week and from where they can reach any of their foot soldiers or enforcers or distributors or whatever the Arab word for scum is, either side of the river in double quick time.
But today the Black Jackets Muslim crime gang looked different.
They looked sunnier.
Nay, nay and thrice nay.
It was more than that.
Today the Black Jackets were a veritable riot of colour.
Like a pastureland of country flowers in full bloom.
I'd never seen anything like it.
The reason was this.
The Black Jackets had removed their black leather jackets.
Instead they were wearing a variegated, indeed hilarious, assortment of anoraks, duffle coats, cheap shirts, and worn cotton jumpers.
Nothing in fashion mind.
But they'd definitely moved from the year 1957 to sometime around early 1961.
And there wasn't a black leather jacket in sight.
In fact one of the gang was actually wearing a red jacket.
It looked very dashing.
From now on we'll have to call him Little Red Riding Hood.
So there it is.
For the first time in five years, the Muslim street thugs known as the Black Jackets were today each and every one of them without a black leather jacket.
Which tells us a couple of important things.
Firstly, they do own other items of clothing.
Secondly, the bastards can read.

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

the knight remembers the road forth

on the road to arcady
did not our foolish knights chide
the manly ones for inconstancy
with the maidens of the passing way
censure them for dolority of soul
bid them hold their honour to their shields

and standing there
drenched in light and dust
i felt the life force dancing in our midst
in carnival in parlay and in tryst
and i too kissed a frenchman's daughter
in montretienne
two days before the slaughter

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

the biggest story in the world

The biggest story in the world at the moment is an attempt by Muslims in Canada to discredit the writer Mark Steyn, and to silence Canada's oldest news publication, in a court case now underway at something styling itself the Canadian Human Rights Tribunal.
The case is being heard this week.
The case is a blatent attempt by Muslims to supress freedom of speech in the free world.
The judge hearing the case is a serial leftist whose most brilliant career ruling thus far has been an interesting decision to fine a Catholic group (the Knights of Columbanus) for refusing to rent one of their buildings to a pair of women who considered themselves lesbians and wanted to get married in the aforementioned building.
My analysis is that the Canadian Human Rights Commission is a corrupt entity and that it is presently being used by Muslims to smear Mark Steyn and McCleans magazine.
I say again...
This is the biggest news story in the world.
It is being all but ignored by the Irish Times (for whom Steyn was once their token righty), the BBC, Channel Four, all British newspapers, all European news channels, CNN, Time Magazine, Newsweek, and the Nazi channel Al Jazeera.

Memo to those employees of the Irish Times and Independent Newspapers who visit The Heelers Diaries each day to trawl for ideas:
For once in your miserable useless fervourless unoriginal conformist anti Catholic lives, just for once I say, why don't you steal something from my blog that's worth stealing?

Steyn's website is


Sunday, June 01, 2008

the weekender

Coffee with the Sicilian. Two effortless hours. Her name is Gabriella. We rendezvoused at a Cafe Insomnia near the Ilac Centre in Dublin. What is it about the Italians?
Afterwards I attended mass at the church of Saint Mary in the Maughans, Clarendon Street. Mary herself was there outside the door and mugged me for twenty quid as I endeavoured to slip past. She also tried to talk me into helping her transport a new cooker to her new house, but I wasn't buying.
By nightfall I was back at the Chateau de Healy where a tail wagging Paddy Pup brought me for a walk beneath the stars. The heat of the day had passed. The garden of my father enfolded us. A balmy wind coursed past us from the fields making hedges and trees tremulous with a gospel shiver.
For the first time in a long time I felt true hope in the eternal.