pardon me but your plagiarism is in my soup

Evening at the Chateau de Healy.
Ireland's greatest living poet is sitting in the kitchen munching a steinervortzel and quaffing a coffee.
Enter Doctor Barn stage left pursued by a nephew.
"Hey Heelers," quoth the bad Doctor cheerily. "Have a look at this."
He dumps an Irish Independent on the table in front of me.
I shoot him a wounded look.
"The Irish Independent," sez me bitterly. "Et tu Daktari. Then fall Heelers."
The Doc snorts with impatience.
"Just read it," sez he.
I glance at the page he has opened.
It is the Ian Doherty Heelers Diaries rip off column entitled I Spy.
A sort of atheistic Tony O'Reilly worshipping joyless version of what you're reading here.
There are flashes of brilliance of course.
He uses words like discombobulated, claims to have pro-life friends, and mentions George Bush occasionally.
Aside from that it's worthless.
I look up at the brother.
"Bloody Doherty?" I moan. "You're asking me to read O'Doherty. This is the unkindest cut of all."
Doctor Barn gestured towards the paper.
My eyes followed.
And behold.
A picture of the character Yoda from Star Wars swinging a light sabre and looking like a demented muppet.
The picture had been published a day after The Heelers Diaries presented a droll little Star Wars satire which had touched hearts worldwide.
The satire concerned Tony O'Reilly as Darth Vader lecturing O'Doherty on how to rip off this blog more efficiently.
Hilarious no?
And now this.
Doctor Barn chuckled.
"Is it deliberate?" sez he.
"I don't know what you mean," I answered.
"Is he really reading your blog?"
"Him, John Waters, Kevin Myers and every other talentless git in Irish journalism."
"Ah come on."
"Consider it Doc. Waters tribute on the death of Pope John Paul the Second. After so many years showing us how to live, he showed us how to die. The exact same as my tribute to Grandad. And Myers. Myers has just discovered a concern about over paid teachers, nursies and police officers. Not only that. He claims to have been writing about them for months. Years. Possibly even decades. I know where I think he got the idea."
"You're paranoid," quoth Doctor Detroit.
My handsome preraphaelite features creased into a frown.
"Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean the swines aren't ripping me off," I mused. "The Irish Independent even ran a headline recently from Wordsworth's poem about the French revolution. They used it to mark Ireland's rugby victory. It was a well chosen piece. Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive and to be young was the very heaven. Only ever used as a headline once before. By me in the vomitous Leinster Leader to mark a Kildare Leinster Final victory. Coincidence? I don't think so."
"Ah Heelz. Just stop."
I stopped.
The Doc pointed at the Irish Indescuzzdent once more.
"Does he ever mean this as a kind of salute?" he wondered.
I looked again at the picture of Yoda.
My words came slowly.
Ponderously.
"The Force is strong with this young canabinoid taking Jedi," I murmured. "There is much he dares. But he'd better watch himself. He's starting to p-ss me off."