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 16, 2012

apocalypse now on dublin's luas tram system

Merry hell on the Luas tram.
When the bloodshed is at its height I glance from the carriage window at the passing craters of Dublin city.
Most of the city centre is either shuttered, in ruins, or scraped bare awaiting some mythical future time when gangster bankers will once more collude with rackateering property developers to build useless and unusable white elephant buildings.
Half of what's left of the city centre is restricted to social housing, ensuring that Dublin remains the skankiest capital in Europe with the highest crime rate, and the most dedicated career criminals.
You couldn't make it up.
I stare from the window of the Luas.
Skulking behind a lamp post I see a member of Ireland's notoriously corrupt, nay murderous, police force, humorously styled An Garda Siochana, which is Irish for Guardians of the Peace.
Hilarious no.
This particular guardian of the peace is directing a speed gun at passing motorists.
As I remain sitting amid the aglomeration of moving violations that is a Dublin Luas tram, I cannot escape a feeling of queasy irony on beholding a police officer engaged in casual entrapment against law abiding motorists driving home from work, whilst that same Luas tram veritably awash with crime, and certainly lacking any notion of due punishment, this tram i say, full of brawling heroin addicts and jeering illegal immigrants, passes within a few metres of him.
The irony... is screaming.


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