The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

dawn becomes eclectic

Morning at Ireland's Reichastag parliament.
Bright sunshine bathes the venerable stonework.
Freshly ironed swastikas flutter on the breeze.
The Eagle Has Landed music is playing over the public address system.
All seems right with the world.
Behind closed doors in the oak lined cabinet room, Fuhrer Enda Kenny is meeting with his government ministers.
The Fuhrer is bedecked in his usual Nazi regalia with the armband and the brownshirt and the little moustache.
His fellow Ministers are all encased in Dalek costumes,
The mood is upbeat.
Just Titz Minister Eamon Gilmore is speaking.
"You haff won again Mein Fuhrer. Ze Catholics have been sent reeling backwards. You haff convinced this conformist Paddy Whack nation that it is an act of caring to say to a group of people that you don't care what they do, that you don't cafe if what they do damages themselves, that you don't care if what they do damages society and that you don't care if they refer to mutual masturbation as a marriage. Sheer genius Mein Fuhrer. Vee haff made not caring into the ultimate act of compassion. Ze cravens are bowing before you. Vee haff conquered thought. Soon ze whole world vill be ourrrssss."
The Fuhrer smiles modestly.
"Ze proles vere alvays going to vote to be called nice guys by ze Irish Times," he muses.
The room rings briefly with sieg heils from the exultant Daleks.
Their enthusiasm communicates.
Soon the Fuhrer is sieg heiling too.
A tea lady enters and her tray is sieg heiled out of her hands.
The Fuhrer is now jack booting around the rooom.
A cat runs across his path and is lifted into the air by an incidental kick, her "meowrrrrrrr" at impact blending melliflously with the music of the sieg heils.
Government Ministers somewhat inihibited by being encased in Dalek costumes, still manage to trundle enthusiastically around the room, colliding with each other now and again, and occasionally driving over the Fuhrer's toes, but never ceasing to chant: "Sieg heil, sieg heil, sieg heil."
It's all very thought provoking.
Presently the fun stops.
A sober look creases Enda Kenny's luminous visage.
"Heelers vill not bow," he murmurs thoughtfully, limping back to his seat.
The other Daleks become incensed and begin to chant mechanically: "Exterminate the Heeler, exterminate, exterminate."
The Fuhrer silences them with a wave of his hair.
"No," he proclaims, "for ze culture of death to truly bloom vee must focus on first things first. First vee come for ze unborn. And the peasants will let us do it because they are not unborn. Then vee vill come for ze old and ze infirm. And ze peasants vill let us do that because most of zem are not themselves old or infirm. Zen vee come for ze suicidal and ze depressed and ze merely sad, and ze ones foolish enough to admit zemselves to our hospitals like is happening already in Belgium, ze Netherlands and Luxembourg, and ze Irish vill let us do zat because by zen zey vill be beyond caring. And zen only zen, vill vee come for Heelers."
The Fuhrer looks around the room expecting cheers.
There are none.
Most of the Nazis would not be averse to starting with Heelers.
It is an awkward moment.
"You can cheer now," prompts Enda Kenny mildly.
The Daleks get the message and take up their chant with renewed vigour.
"Exterminate the babies, exterminate the elderly, exterminate the depressed, exterminate, exterminate, exterminate."