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 18, 2011

obitcheries

Brian Lenihan is dead.
He died young.
It was a blessed release.
For all of us.
In the aftermath of his departure a wave of pap has engulfed the newspapers of our fair nation.
One newspaper report yesterday suggested Brian Lenihan had always carried a bible with him wherever he went.
This claim is interesting because it was perhaps the most obscene falsehood broadcast amidst the admittedly falsehood crammed fawning mendacious Lenihan eulogies being disseminated at breakneck hypcocritical speed by the bankrupt anti Catholic media groups of the Republic of Ireland.
Maybe Brian Lenihan really did carry a bible with him.
He might have used it to sit on.
But that is all he used it for.
By the way, the last odious and otiose Fianna Fail government minister to claim he always carried a bible with him was the abysmal John Wilson.
God should sue.
Provided God doesn't end up in court before a Fianna Fail appointed Judge, he might even win a libel case against the venal scoundrels of Irish political life who are currently vying to describe themselves as bible carriers.
I'd say God's chances in that libel case would be about a milion to one.
Because let's face it.
All Irish Judges are politically connected.
We are being ruled from the shadows.
Even the late Brian Lenihan's wife, the still very much alive Snurdbitchia Ryan was able to find time out from the joys of life married to the greatest burglar in 1500 years of Irish history, to become a Judge in the Circuit Court.
Good old Snurdbitchia.
Carrying on a long tradition there of political infiltration of the Judiciary.
Albert Reynolds has a daughter in the High Court.
Albert Reynolds is the former Fianna Fail Prime Minister who once received a million quid for his pet food factory from an Arab terrorist who sorely wanted an Irish passport. The Arab terrorist of course got a passport by return of post.
The founder of Fianna Fail Eamon DeValera has a descendent at the upper echelons of the Judiciary, who seems to specialise in multi million dollar libel awards against citizens who criticise Fianna Fail. He also specialises in neglible libel awards for citizens who actually have been libelled.
I do not consent to any of this.
I want these people gone.
As a citizen, I want Snurdbitchia Ryan, Leonie Reynolds, Young Dev, and every other sodding political apparatchik masquerading as a Judge, removed decisively from the Irish courts system.
But I digress.
The wheel is rigged.
And it's the only game in town.
Let us return to our consideration of the bible carrying proclivities of the newly dead Brian Lenihan.
Certainly in his short career as point man for Fianna Fail's kleptocratic smash and grab on the Irish nation, he never once spoke out for Christian values.
Get this.
Brian Lenihan never once defended the unborn child, never once opposed condom culture, never once defied the reconstructed communists styling themselves atheistic humanists within the Judiciary and in the shadows of the ruling pseudo elites of Irish society who are currently falsifying sex abuse issues as part of their ancient, ongoing and evil war of extirpation against the Catholic Church in Ireland.
These people are and always have been venal arrogant traitors to everything Ireland is.
They have sold our nation for a mess of pottage.
Or in Albert Reynold case, for a million bucks.
And now as per usual, they're shuffling off the mortal coil, eulogised into the grave by the pious hypocrites of The Irish Times (annual losses a hundred million dollars), Independent Newspapers (accrued debts of two thousand million dollars), and The Daily Mail (claimed annual revenues for the Irish edition one million dollars on borrowings from idiot banks of 65 million. That's right. They owe 65 million for their pissant little Irish edition and using accountancy tricks they can claim a million in revenues. In another 65 years maybe they'll actually make a f---ing profit).
Eulogised by the atheistic anti Catholic media and by a few tame Padres who should know better.
The Daily Mail called his funeral "a monument more lasting than bronze."
Sheer mendacious bathos.
The Daily Mail lifted this headline from my work.
I lifted it from Cicero.
The difference is: Cicero gave me permission.
Yeah Lenihan is dead.
By his friends you may know him.
And by his deeds.
When the Fianna Fail bank Anglo Irish collapsed a few years ago because its own management had been robbing the bank by giving themselves and their Fianna Fail friends billion dollar loans, when this bank collapsed as its management had always planned it would, it was Brian Lenihan who enacted the final part of the plan for the biggest burglary in human history.
Not Irish history.
Human history.
Anglo Irish, which wasn't even in the top three Irish banks and need not have been saved, Anglo Irish, I tells ee, owed more money than the largest corrupt American bank Citibank.
You got that?
And Lenihan's part in the ultra scam to end all scams, the robbery to end all robberies, the ultimate snatch and grab on generations yet unborn, Lenihan's role, Lenihan's blag, was to deliver the coup de grace when the truth about Anglo Irish came out.
Brian Lenihan, as Minister for Finance, signed the Irish people up to paying the 150 thousand million dollar gambling debts of his Fianna Fail friends who had stolen this money through lending it to themselves at Anglo Irish Bank without ever having any hope, intention or prospective ability to repay it.
Brian Lenihan single handedly signed us all up to bail out these thieves.
Brian Lennihan single handedly bankrupted Ireland.
Let this be his epitaph.

Friday, June 17, 2011

from our sports desk

The price of a share in the Johnston Press as traded on the London Stock Exchange this morning is five pennies. Effectively, the shares are not trading. There are no real buyers. Finally folks, they can't even give them away.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

confucius he say

Golden hamsters are no respecters of knitted jumpers.

Monday, June 13, 2011

possibilities

airborne insects hum
homeward go they homeless
and propose this streetlamp or that car light
as the all important centre of the universe

purposeless they try again
to divine transcendent purpose
the light that animates their bodies
shines from the centre of the universe

Sunday, June 12, 2011

a walk in the park

Strolling through Stephens Green.
The park is full of wildish teens, drinking and drugging in various states of deshabille.
The mighty Heelers is wearing sun glasses.
He's moving quickly because he's afraid.
"Hey you," calls a girl from a bench.
She looks about fifteen years of age and a bit rough at the edges.
I quicken my pace.
"Hey you!" she calls again.
And then more mollifyingly: "Have you got a cigarette."
I shake my head expressively.
I've now drawn level with the bench.
"Sit down for a minute," quoth she.
I shrug with strange high expressive ruefulness. I'm trying not to upset her because I'm afraid she might hit me. I hurry on.
"Why not?" she calls after me. "You look just like my friend Gordon."
Is Gordon 45 years old, fat as a fool and red as a beetroot, I wonder momentarily intrigued by the coincidence.
And then another thought hits me.
"Heelers you old dog," I murmur aloud, "you've still got it."