The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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

Thursday, August 19, 2021

live taliban press conference hosted by peace loving muslim cheeky chappie zabiullah mujahid taking time out from his busy schedule of executions eye gougings and child rapes to proclaim an all new era of absolute islamist sharia law along with sunshine lollypops and rainbows for afghanistan

 (NB: Sunshine, lollypops and rainbows is a Quranic injunction meaning executions, eye gougings and child rapes.)


Zabiullah sings the new Afghan national anthem:


"Gimme a head with hair.

Long beautiful hair.

Shining.

Gleaming.

Streaming.

Dreaming.

But only on men

On women it's demeaning.

Long beautiful hair.

Shoulder length

Or longer.

Give me long beautiful hair.

Play it on the bongos.

Hair. Hair. Hair.

We want hair.

Hair.

Hair.

Hair.

Snaggy

Shaggy

Raggy

Beautiful

Hair.

Hair.

Hair.

Gimme a beautiful beard.

Long beautiful beard.

One that's never been sheared.

No need to be afeard.

It's not really that weird.

Hair.

Hair.

Hair.

Long 

Shining 

Silver lining.

Gleaming

Steaming

Waxing

Maxing.

All in all

Quite relaxing.

Know it.

Grow it.

Show it.

Flow it.

Hair.

Hair.

Hair.

Flaunt it.

Haunt it.

Taunt it.

Hair.

Hair.

Hair.

All over hair.

Head hair.

Chin hair.

On men it's not a sin hair.

Hair.

Hair.

Hair.

Cubic.

Pubic.

Almost rubic

Hair.

Hair.

Hair.

Grow it long.

Long as you can.

Or we kill you."

scenes from a life

 

"James, James, James."

I look up.

A lissom enough woman is running towards me across the carpark.

As she draws level she half turns away and seems to proffer her nethers while indicating said nethers with her elbow.

This is quaint.

Wearily I realise she is not a new romantic subtly propositioning me for sex but is engaging in some form of officially acceptable though no less surrealistic Irish government/World Health Organisation mandated handshake.

The whole world is mad except me.

I exclaim without having recognised her: "Oh don't be so silly."

And I grab her hand and shake it vigorously.

"There," I said. "You've got it now. And you're going to die."

All things considered she was lucky it was her hand I shook.

As it turned out she was some sort of an acquaintance from years ago.

I couldn't really concentrate on whatever she was saying.

"It's been so long... Knew you way back... Never expected..."

The sensation scene was the unselfconscious proffering of the bum because the government says that's how to shake hands.

What came after was an anti climax.

Oo er Missus.

But that bum bit.

Cor blimey.

I nearly passed peacefully out.

For truly I am an optimist.

Anyhoo.

While she talked I tried to be polite but I was pondering the bum moment and then pondering the whole comedy of life unfolding around the world with the ongoing Nazification of our cultures in the guise of a flu virus panic.

Whatever next.

The government says the Delta variant of Covid 19 (ie the flu virus generated by the Chinese Communist Party in a laboratory at Wuhan with financing from Anthony Fauci of the American National Institute of Health and the complicity of the World Health Organisation who covered up the conspiracy from the start and have only belatedly admitted it's real) now necessitates everyone wishing to greet another human being standing on their heads, baring their chests, and saying "Wibble," instead of hello.

Just to be utterly safe.

Also government experts are insisting all citizens should visit graveyards after dark and throw dead cats over their shoulders at midnight while chanting: "Warts follow cat."

You're already safe but only then can you be really, really safe from the flu.

You gotta follow the science.

That is to say: You've got to do what the Frankensteinian idiots who created this virus tell you to do in order to stay what they call "safe" from the virus they created and turned loose on the world.

Hoo baby.

The woman who recognised me from years ago probably notices me glancing fitfully at her bum and departs.

The world is in a state of chassis.

I ponder my next move.

Something has to give.

FORMAL ANNOUCEMENT/Legal Disclaimer

From this day forth, any lissom woman who gallops up to me in a carpark, calling my name breathlessly, as her raven tresses stream gloriously in the wind, and then raises her bum towards me whilst indicating said bum with her elbow, shall receive a pelvic thrust that will knock her into the middle of next week. Yeah baby, yeah.

I'm just saying is all.

The Yeah Baby Yeah codicil should be read aloud in the voice of comedic talent Mike Myers' Austin Powers character.

You've got to sass it.

For legal reasons.

The thought is no sooner enunciated than Chinese President Xi Jinping dressed like Riff Raff from The Rocky Horror Picture Show appears beside me with his backing group. (The Taliban.)

The Taliban set up their instruments and Xi Jinping begins to perform his greatest hit.

Xi Jinping begins with a talky bit and segues (segoos as my feminist cousin Pauline would call it) into a song:

"It's astounding

The Americans are fleeing

Madness

Takes its toll

But listen closely

Not for very much longer

I've got

To take control.

(singing) I remember

Doing the time warp

Drinking

Those moments when

Chairman Mao killed tens of millions

And the void would be calling

Let's kill tens of millions again.

Let's kill tens of millions again."

President Joe Biden (appearing suddenly): "It's just a jump to the left."

President Donald Trump (appearing ditto): "And a step to the r-i-i-i-ight."

Mr Biden: "You put your hands on your hips."

The Donald: "And bring your knees in ti--i-i-ight."

Xi Jinping: "But it's the pelvic thrust

That really knocks you insa-a-a-a-ane.

Lets do the time warp again.

Lets kill tens of millions again."

(Talking again) "It's so dreamy

Oh fantasy free me

So you can't see me

No, not at all

In another dimension

With voyeuristic intention

Well secluded

I see all.

With a bit of a mind flip

You're into the time slip

And nothing

Can ever be the same.

(singing) You're spaced out on sensation

Like you're under sedation.

Let's do the time warp again.

Let's kill tens of millions again."

When he'd finished singing the new Chinese national anthem and the Taliban had packed up their instruments, I turned towards the camera and said in the quavering ominous voice of Jimmy from the opprobrious television cartoon South Park:

"They are coming."

Wednesday, August 18, 2021

the security men

 

Sitting at an outdoor cafe (no passport required) in the town of Naas.

Two characterful middle aged security men, in seeming paradoxical contrast with each other, one thin, one burly, one bald, one silver haired, one verbose, one laconic, from the Dunnes Stores shopping centre are at an adjoining table.

They are talking about music.

"There's no great singers anymore."

"You're right there Mick."

"Bob Dylan  was a great singer. George Harrison said Bob Dylan was probably the greatest song writer who ever lived."

"George Harrison was good."

"There's nothing around like him now. There's nothing like the Righteous Brothers. Remember them? Unchained Melody. Those guys were the business. There's no Tom Pettys now. Nothing like him. There's no Joe Dolans. Joe Dolan kept singing right up till the end. Did you know that? Joe Dolan could still sing as well as he ever did the day he died. The modern guys can't do it at all."

"Yeah, Joe Dolan was great."

"You know something? Jimi Hendrix was asked was he the greatest guitarist in the world. He said: I don't know, ask Rory Gallagher."

"Oh Rory Gallagher was a genius."

"He could do anything with that guitar. He was married to it. You'd see him carrying it everywhere. He was practicing on it fifteen hours a day. You know Rory Gallagher was actually asked to join the Rolling Stones before they got Ron Wood. He turned them down. Rory Gallagher was his own man. He wouldn't stand for Mick Jagger ordering him around. I remember Rory Gallagher used to drink an awful lot after his gigs. I did security for him a few times. He'd be drinking whiskey straight. I knew he was sick before he died. His face was all swelled up. I just knew."

Listening in to their conversation I was struck not for the first time by the queer ludicrousness that gilds the lily like vicissitudes of my existence.

I was tempted to chip in: "Jethro Tull once heard my sister playing the tin whistle and he said: That's it, there, that's what I've spent my life trying for."

But I held my whisht.

Tuesday, August 17, 2021

new season thrills

 


From our Autumn TV schedules...

A Sensational new series...

Coolo American Voice: "Pope Benedict was a Pope. And a good one. But he was framed for incompetence by other Popes turned bad. Popes who paid his valet to steal important documents and leak them to the media, and set Benedict up to take the fall. Now he patrols the badlands. An outlaw hunting other outlaws. A warrior. A loner. A... POPE EMERITUS!"

Music: Ner ner ner nerdle ner ner ner ner, nerdle nerdle ner, nerdle ner ner."

All this is accompanied by an image of Lorenzo Lamas as Pope Benedict in full papal regalia (but with the shirt open to show the all important gold medallion) riding towards the camera on a motorcycle hair streaming behind him in the wind.