The Horror, The Horror

Posted on January 22, 2011


“The Horror, the Horror”

– ‘Heart of Darkness’ by Joseph Conrad

My mother has threatened to feed me Valium twice in the last week. No joke.


The first time was when I read about David Drumm’s new (law) suit in the States, how he got a credit card with $15,000 credit on it and maxed it out before filing for bankruptcy. Actually, I must admit I thought I was going to hyperventilate when I read both the story and what he had spent the money on: fancy dinners, landscape gardeners, fancy windows.


I honestly can’t repeat my exact exclamation here because the language would probably make a docker blanche. (No offence intended to dockers. And apologies for mentioning you within twenty lines of the (w)(b)anker.

I have never been so disgusted by anything in my entire life. As I say, the mother is contemplating drugging me up because every morning when I get up and listen to the radio, it’s this pack of morons that we put in power. When I think about it I itch to hit something. I cannot wait for the first Fianna Fáil or Green Party canvasser to dawdle up to my door.


I and many others will be long gone by September. Once again Ireland exports its youth, the brightest and intelligent people who might have one day made this country great again but will now have to be satisfied with making someone else’s great instead.


And could you blame us for leaving with such feelings of contempt and hatred for what has happened here? Could you blame us for being so disillusioned that we can conceivably come to the conclusion that this stupidity, arrogance and self-absorption is simply endemic in our society. It is certainly endemic of the Fianna Fail party who have now brought the country to its knees at least twice and possibly more.


I’m not familiar with the recession of the 80s having only arrived toward the end of them (late enough to not have to wear shoulder pads or leg warmers) but I am familiar with the history surrounding the founding of our state and it takes a particular breed of mongrel, vicious-bastard dog that pulls a country back onto its knees after it has barely achieved the right to walk.


No, I don’t think we could be blamed for walking away with nothing but feelings of contempt for this country.


If there’s one thing that saves me from having this feeling completely consume me it’s thinking about moments like the Ireland Rugby Grand Slam a few years ago. I wrote a joyful blog at the time and a friend commented beneath it uttering the sentiment that it was a wonderful euphoria before the storm that was about to hit us. At the time he was talking about a budget that was going to be worse than anything we’d seen before. Little did we know, he had seen nothing yet.


As some one who has made their peace with knowing they will have to leave to have any chance of a semblance of a life, I realise that you have to take the little things with you, like the Grand Slam, like (for me) the memory of the All Ireland in 1996, a lot of the memories will be sporting ones for me and then the obvious ones of family, friends etc.


I hope beyond everything else that Fianna Fail gets obliterated in the coming election. I’m certainly going to play my part to see it happen.


The youth of this country are screwed. We have no other choice but to go and I resent that more than anything else, the fact that the choice has been taken away.


As optimists keep saying, things will get better, everything works in circles. It’ll all come good again.

This is probably true.


But we can rest assured in knowing that, when that time comes around again, we’ll probably all have been short minded enough to put Fianna Fail back in charge.


And they’ll just fuck it up all over again.