Thems the Breaks


Sunday afternoon and we’ve all left the kitchen to read books and watch sport and sleep, and to think of the fortune we have in living suburbian dreams . . .

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Once Upon a Time . . .


I look though the glass to our green garden and itz orange flowers and remember living elsewhere, another time another place i guess, and i find eyem surprised as to how i came to reside inna jazzy house with two loud bitch beagles and a loving, wonderful wife named Moo Moo . . . there was no plan, i suppose i took a Right Turn in mah twenties and ended up in fairyland.

. . . and here the four ones are; myself inna small dining room typing nonsense onto a narrow screen as Moo Moo reads a paperless read by the bay window with our two small September Gurls for company, and i know if eyed planned this present in my teens eyed find myself in fiasco.

* * * * *

“But how do you get there?” asked the child. “Do you get there by walking to the hills and going over? 

“That is what no one can tell you,” said I. “If people knew how it was done everybody would do it, but the whole point of losing your way is that you do it by mistake. You must be quite certain that you have not lost your way or it is no good. You walk along, and you walk along, and you wonder how long it will be before you get to the town, and then instead of getting to the town at all, there you are in Fairyland.”

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Guilty as Charged?

I used to like weekend radio on RTE Radio One, especially Sunday mornings, although eyem changing my mind as there’s just too much misery porn being peddled on the shows, and this weekend was a great example, as Marian Finnucane began her show explaining to her listeners that the new superstar of Ireland 2.0, Jonathan Rachel Clynch, would not be appearing alongside her, revealing heez “gender fluid” as he didint want The Irish Daily Star, the paper of record (and who revealed the news to a delighted nation), to “dictate when he would or he wouldn’t talk about himself” and thank Caitlin he didint as eyed be subjected to the usual cant relating to the lack of diversity and equality and plurality and tolerance and blah blah blah and who are we to judge C.R.A.P. although myself and the Irish listeners got something much, much worse; Roisin Ingle, explaining her need to tell her abortion story.

And this morning as i drove to the supermarket of Real Food for Real People i listened to Sunday Miscellany, as Alan Keely read his lines and remembered how tough it was for his father raising two boys alone in grim nineteen seventies Ireland and i thought; can we just give it a freakin’ rest, this constant maudlin outpouring of public acts of confession is far too much for any person to take, itz wearin’ me down, man . . .

We currently live in an overprotective, liberal fascistic society, which in order to maintain itz dominance, denigrates our parent’s past by encouraging the heretics of yesteryear to continuously cheerlead for a fanciful future, one, where we all exist, but do not live . . .

. . . no matter what the new priests of the present proclaim

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“Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet” Roger Miller


I woke up this morning to find the rain had passed, and i was disappointed as i had high hopes for yesterday’s deluge, i had a plan.  As i returned home from work yesterday evening, taking the scenic route by the mountains, my thoughts turned to that evening’s entertainment; a front row seat in the dynasty room, with a beer on the table anda pizza in my hand and eyed watch the shower of cloud water fall onto our garden and shout to Moo Moo beside me;

“RUTH! RUTH! Would you look at that rain!”

. . . and she wouldint listen as sheed be playing word dash on her phone, but the weather cruelly hadda different plan, the serious rain was not to pass over Firhouse, only light rain would arrive, and disenchanted i moved to the living room and watched Sarah Conor escape with her male friend from the future, fromma machine determined to ruin her week, and i thought of my rain and how it had ruined mine.

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It’s not easy being Green . . .

The Green Party is a sham, a charade, a party of charlatans who spout platitudes to the unbelievers, urging them to buy into their principles and believe me, The Green Party have none.   A group who “recognise and celebrate our interdependence with other species“, and an association who “oppose the destructive processes which are destroying our planet“, is something to admire, but when it comes to the nitty gritty, The Green Party leave their doctrine at the door.  Their basic philosophy establishes; “The impact of society on the environment should not be ecologically disruptive“, and that “we have the responsibility to pass the Earth on to our successors in a fit and healthy state“. . . TOSH, that is; The Greens are like any other political party in that they believe in power and how to attain it; either locally or nationally.

The Green Party and their watermelon class colleagues, who say one thing at the front door and something else at the back, are in favour of destroying green spaces in areas they believe to be “middle class”. Sinn Fein “The Peoples Party” whose beliefs in abstracts such as community, are in fact actively seeking to undermine “an important voice in Irish society” by implementing measures that directly affect those they wish to court.

* * * * *

The drive to establish secular Educate Together schools in Ireland has shifted a gear and if we are to believe The Irish Times, the demand for non denominational schools in Ireland outstrips supply, however, i believe this reporting to be political and not factual.  It is clear, that in the Firhouse area there is considerable opposition to the imposition of schools which will be built on green space in order to facilitate a doctrine of inclusivity, a concept that should and does exist presently within those schools that are Catholic, and to suggest otherwise is a misrepresentation of an ethos which has existed in Ireland for over a millennia.

The destruction of our landscape is not a preserve of ‘the Right’, i would argue that the destruction of our outlook has been perpetrated by ‘the Left’, be it in our urban scenery or our country prospect and this railroading of their monument to “learning” in South County Dublin is just another example of the authoritarian streak existing within the polarizing attitude of liberalism.

But acquiescence does not equal support – wherever new schools are being established, at primary or secondary level, the level of desire among local parents for non-religious education becomes very clear – as evidenced by the preponderance of school start-up groups around Ireland aligned with Educate Together“. Ivana Bacik, The Irish Times

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School for Scandal

It must be election time. Our public representatives are all scrambling to issue the usual specious promises about schools, roads and manna from heaven. And all in spite of, or contrary to, the actual wishes of those the purport to serve.

Our neighbourhood – Firhouse in South Dublin – doesn’t have a lot going for it. It’s got poor public transport links, no true village centre to speak of and our only local restaurants comprise of four greasy chippers.

But what it does have is an abundance of lush, verdant green space and a glorious, uninterrupted view of the Dublin mountains.

But what is that against the march of inexorable progress? There’s an election to be won.

Directly behind our estate lies an expansive parkland, with wild hedgerows and a venerable 200 year old oak tree.

The space is used daily by local residents, dog walkers, strollers, children and a nearby football club.

However, South Dublin County Council recently voted to allow the construction of two temporary school buildings on the green space (which is currently Zoned F as a natural amenity and parkland). The schools – a Gaelschoil and Educate Together facility, have taken a large bite out of the parkland, however much of it has been left intact. For now.

This month the Council are poised to take another vote to demolish the only just constructed schools and replace them with two storey edifices and a large enclosed sports pitch which will take up the majority of the remaining public greenspace.

There are already three primary schools located in Firhouse, all of which have spare capacity for more students. As Firhouse is a mature area, most of the local children are now attending secondary school or college. There is simply no need for two further primary schools in the area. To the point that most of the pupils expected to attend the schools will be ferried in from outside the catchment area.

So why build the schools in Firhouse, on a stretch of land explicitly not zoned for this purpose? Why, because there’s an election coming, and schools are vote winners – especially such right on establishments as a Gaelschoil and an Educate Together jamboree.

What’s most galling is the hypocrisy of our local political figures – only recently Sinn Fein Councillor Cathal King, admonished that “there will be no green spaces left in places like Firhouse, Tallaght or Clondalkin” and yet Sinn Fein are backing the development. Likewise, Green Party Councillor Francis Noel Duffy, who could be reasonably expected to oppose the destruction of public parkland, publicly announced his support of the proposal for the erection of the permanent structures.

Local Resident Associations, Sports Clubs and private individuals have vociferously voiced their opposition to the development but their objections appear to be falling on the deaf ears of politicians with an election clearly in their sights.

It’s a travesty that the desires of local residents are being callously disregarded and the development of schools that are wholly unnecessary and unwanted is being railroaded through in the name of electioneering.

And therein lies the rub. Since the redrawing of the local electoral boundaries in 2014, and the merging of Firhouse and Tallaght into an unwieldy electoral union with Terenure, Templeogue and Rathfarnham, the 8,000 or so residents of Firhouse simply don’t carry enough weight to matter to local politicians.

And so we are faced with the prospect of everything that makes Firhouse unique slowly being sacrificed for short term political avariciousness. And we, the local residents, will have to live with the consequences for many years to come.


In the meantime our stalwart oak tree stands in solitary silence waiting to be overwhelmed by the remorseless tide of progress.

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ekhm! . . . the dog days are over . . .

what did we do wrong? . .

. . . is what eyem asking myself these days as we contemplate the loss of Delaney to another family on the far side of the city, who may love her, and cherish her . . . and exercise her or who may allow her to get fat.

i know the sensible thing to do is; get rid of the Bitch, causer of fights so savage, she turned our hopes of lucrative contracts with dog modelling agencies, to despairs of financial ruin. I know that life may be better, both for herself and her saintly sister, Bonnie, and yet eyel miss her, eyel miss her mischief and eyem sure eyel cry over her . . .


i remember the Sunday afternoon i first saw her, hiding behind a bag of dry cement as her sister played for a home with Moo Moo, and right there i thought; thatz mah dogg.  And she is my dog, the bond i have with her is strong and she recognises me as her master and now within the space of two weeks i must decide whether to leave her with a family from Blanch.  I dunno what to do . . .

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Solomon’s Choice

female beagles, sofa

Some not so good news from Mac Towers.

Yesterday our two girls, Delaney and Bonnie had a pretty bad fight.

It started over nothing much but ended up with both of them badly hurt with deep cuts and lacerations.

This isn’t the first time it’s happened but it’s the worse one yet. Delaney has been kept overnight in the vet and Bonnie is sporting the cone of shame.

It’s looking like we will have to rehome one of the two dogs as the vet has advised it will happen again.

The worst part is that they normally get on really well together and are very submissive around other dogs and small children.

If anyone has any experience with two female dogs fighting or advice on what to do, please get in touch.

Meanwhile, here’s a pic of the two girls from a happier time.

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five days in the kitchen . . .

. . . and this is them all together in the dynasty room

i bought Metamorphosis years ago when i went out with the girl from Clondalkin and we lived in Knocklyon with the Hungarian doctor from Hungary and my favourite song from the album was “I Don’t Know Why” which was a Stones cover offa Stevie Wonder song and late at night as eyed return home drunk eyed play that song LOUD and wake Csaba who’d join me and the current girl in the living room as we’d smoke and drink and talk . . . and talk . . . and in the morning eyed call in depressed and take the week off work as me and the girl would spend the days slowly drifting apart until sheed be replaced the following Friday night by a new one and the cycle of growing up would continue.

i liked that album alott and returned to it recently as i agreed with mah best man, The Arab, that weed exchange mix tapes, although they aint called mix tapes no more, they’re now known as mix sticks, and the song that would open my mix stick was “Out of Time”, Song Number 1 on Metamorphosis although the version i used was by a guy called Chris Farlowe and itz the one i prefer;

and now! 2 days later after startin with Chris, eyem delighted with myself as i finally finished the fookin’ stick after 5 fookin’ attempts and a lot of needless money spent on C.R.A.P. in the belief that these songs would fill the gaps of the tracks on mix stick Number One, which will be posted to The Arab come Monday . . .

I’d Rather Be With The Boys; Melody; Black Venom; We Could Be So Good Together; Simon Smith And The Amazing Dancing Bear; Honey Pie; If You Gotta Go, Go Now (Or Else You Gotta Stay All Night); Long Cool Woman (In A Black Dress); Miss Ann; Lazy Days; Guilty As Charged; Poet, Fool Or Bum; Dream Baby (How Must Long Must I Dream); Mr. Bumble . . .

. . . and Moo Moo sighs some sound of relief from the boredom of having to endure THE BEST MIX TAPE forward slash STICK, EVER! for the past 5 days

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Bogus Bonus

Irish Water protest, Dublin, Merrion Square

When is a bonus not a bonus? When it’s an Irish Water bonus of course!

Some SIPTU trade union goon was on the radio the other day trying to justify demands that staff at Irish Water, the most reviled Irish utility company in history, be paid “Performance Related Awards”. He went to great lengths to avoid uttering the hated “B” word but I struggle to see the difference.

Irish Water, in its relatively short incarnation, has successfully alienated the entire Irish public, incorrectly billed thousands, failed spectacularly to meet compliance targets and over-spent on meter installations.

Despite this comedy of underperformance, staff members think they are entitled to bonuses.

Good luck with winning the public sympathy battle!

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