I’ve just surfaced from a weekend in Teletubbyland. There was some fine food and lots of good wine and conviviality, but essentially the time was dominated by my golden grandchild who consumes time and energy as Galactus would readily consume whole planets . I  sit here a shattered but happy  man.Apparently,  I narrowly missed a seventy mile an hour storm but my plane got back unscathed. So what else have I missed while my mind roamed in very important realms  with Tinky Winky, Dipsy, La La , Po, Noo Noo  and all the gang…  when  changing nappies and endless entertainment were the only things on the agenda? Nobody  over there  in England cares what ‘s happening in Ireland , of course , so you’d never hear or read anything in the newspapers.I suppose they feel that we still inhabit a little world , not unlike the Teletubbies. A little psychedelic planet far away from any sign or light  of reality.

Do they know what democracy is? I doubt that too.  When I left late last week, another mad head-banging idea was being floated and someone From a Very High and Big Plateau at the Toppermost of the Poppermost of  the Orange Order of  The Holy Whatchimaccalits  was expounding on how dozens …hundreds {maybe} of demos throughout the land was going to make everything better for everyone. I suppose maybe it’ll get us all extra fuel tokens for the coming winter . You ‘d never know the arcane and magical workings of the Highest Grand Master of the  Mighty Orange Planets . They might just be onto some wonderful  hidden knowledge that the rest of us have never heard of before. They are Very Important , you know. They are very good at walking about and dressing up  so they just  might be right.

This place would drive sane men mad .They are threatening demos now because no one wants to listen to them anymore.Well ,we’re all mostly bored witless with their nonsense about marching up and down and flags flags ..Give me strength.Can there be nothing else rattling about in their heads?This place is crazy enough already, let me tell you .

I’ll put it like this. The international airport is about forty miles away from me . Do you know , it took me two hours getting to it last week. Two hours!!! This was the worst ever. Is everyone mad? Steam was coming out of my ears and I believe had it gone on another twenty minutes, the wife may have eaten me in rage!How long has that international airport been going now? Years and bloody years…hasn’t it?  Where did they choose to site it? Slap bang in the middle of farmland with a wee country road connecting it to the motorway.It’s literally only forty miles away from my home.it should be within forty odd minutes In the car right? ….Wrong!!! We got fourteen miles down the road before everything ground to a halt with roadworks , accidents …you name it. When we finally made it to the bloody wee road past Nutts Corner{apt!} we got stuck behind, not one , but two tractors going at thirty miles an hour. As the minutes ran by like sand in a timer , steering wheels in the crocodile of cars behind us were being hammered in anger, frustration and plain bad -temper.We finally reached the airport ,  rushed through the searchers, belts undone  , shoes untied, wee bottles of deodorant and shaving cream rattling about us…. and clambered wearily on to the plane. Not a n easy escape….. An exhausting start to our little relaxing break with my daughter, her partner and the golden grandchild.

Now , I ask you , why aren’t our citizens out demonstrating for better roads and train links instead of running about in Lalaland demonstrating about walking and marching and  all that playground antics?

I can’t wait to introduce the golden grandchild to the Wonders of the Magic Roundabout. it’ll make more sense than trying to explain to her  the lunacy of Norneverland.


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