It was the pit of winter. Darkness was only broken by seven hours of short weak light. It was harsh on everyone. Some people made it harsher on themselves. Slanty was one of those people. Slanty was an irregular man living at the edge of the world in his family garage, who was prone to bouts of computer game blackouts and illegal downloading; broken with binges of conspiracy videos, while all the time digressing into trolling and other nefarious online activities, and all of it all the time laced with tins of cider and bottles of vodka. That combination of detachment from the world, and all its nonsense of say; what day is it; I need to here at so and so; what time is it now and when do I need to go to bed. It all made it hard on himself.
I will not repent for the scandals the satanic media whores lay at my door. I was a good priest. I always did what I thought best and now they use my name in sensationalist headlines like “Father Daly Summoned In Paedophile Investigation”.
Continue reading “THE UNREPENTANT PRIEST (Part 1 – a monologue)”
“Have we any vegans here tonight?” I ask and hear a few vague yeses from the crowd. “Well, don’t worry,” I say, “I’m not going to make fun of you.”
“Have we any Nazis here tonight?” I roar and the room erupts with laughter. “Well, don’t worry, I’m not going to make fun of you either. I was talking to a vegan recently though, you know, one of those vegans that emphasises that he has no problem with “meat eaters” like me. Now, I think my blood sugar was a little low or somethin’ cos at the time I thought he was calling me a homosexual.” Continue reading “The Comedian”
The street preacher was right. We have been sinning and this is the divine punishment unleashed upon us as a consequence. The gates of hell have been unlocked and some of Satan’s vilest subjects have been vomited onto the streets of Galway. We all laughed at the street preacher, but nobody is laughing now.
Continue reading “Attack of the Ants”
Peculiar is the only word I can think of to describe a rather bizarre experience that I had on Saturday afternoon. I’m not sure if perhaps I drank one too many coffees, was under the weather, banged my head, or if it was the bargain priced mustard from Aldi, that I had liberally slathered over my ham and cheese sandwich, that led to the following tale in Merlin Woods that I am about to relate to you, dear reader. Whether it was some form of hallucination, some momentary lapse of any sensible notions of reality, or whatever, I am not sure, but the one thing I am sure of is that the whole experience felt very real. Continue reading “Voodoo, Pixies, & Magic in Merlin Woods”
Instantly captivated by the sight of this little family of swans, I resolve to observe them for a bit. They are: mommy, daddy, and four babies. Continue reading “A Claddagh Swan Tale”
“I forgot the tickets,” he cried in a voice thick with a desperation akin to someone helplessly watching their beloved about to be ploughed into oblivion by a tractor.
“Are you f***ing kidding me?” I ask.
“No,” he says, “I’m serious.”
Seeing as how I can see that he’s very extremely upset with himself, and giving him a ton of abuse isn’t going to do any good, I laugh and satisfy myself with a simple, “I’m sorry, but you’re some f***ing pleb.”
“Row ye bastards! Row for your lives or we’re all done for,” he screamed in a wonderful rage that bordered on insanity. The boat was rocking violently and The Captain was sure he and his crew would find themselves as dinner for the fishes at any second. He only ever felt truly alive when death was a near certainty. He felt good, he felt like he could really enjoy the chaos and was glad he was The Captain and not one of the poor bastards rowing the boat, sweating, with every sinew in their bodies on the verge of snapping. There was a beauty in the prospect of imminent demise, as there was a beauty in the flashes of lightning that were cracking across the sky. The thunder roared and it excited him to his core. His eyes were wild and the driving rain soaked him to his bones. No woman could bring the excitement he was feeling right now. Thor was angry and The Captain was ready for any fury he could throw at him. Continue reading “The Captain”
It has been scientifically proven by leading experts in the field of Treeology that humans are, in fact, evolved from trees.
Dr Treesdum of the Scientific Institute of Treeology explained his theory at a recent conference in Treeburg. According to him, all character flaws are not in fact flaws, but are all rooted in how far evolved from trees that each individual is. To illustrate this, he states, “ADHD is not actually a medical condition that needs to be treated with highly toxic drugs, but is actually a branch of evolutionary progress which, in times long past, was essential to mankind’s progression from trees in the depths of African jungles into people in the Northern Hemisphere.” He explains, “Some people, like trees, are forever rooted to the same spot and are excellent candidates for factory work, shop work, office work, or any other job that effectively requires that a person stay in the same place for extended periods of time.” He went on, “The roots of what we call ADHD may have actually been a genetic mutation which triggered trees to shed their roots and explore further in their environment. There can be no doubt that this evolution led to the discovery of America, Australia, and basically anywhere else on earth that isn’t Africa.”
When asked to elaborate further, he said, “While the ADHD gene caused trees, and subsequently people, to uproot themselves and explore other countries, it is now of a somewhat problematic nature since the furthest regions of the world are now overpopulated and it’s now more evolutionarily advantageous to carry the gene for being rooted to the spot, since most modern means of survival involve this kind of stationary existence.” He stressed, “ADHD is not a medical condition to be treated with drugs but one which needs to be understood as something which evolution, at one point, favoured.”
When asked where his crazy theory originated, he said, “When I began my studies in biology, I was startled by how visually similar the branches of nerves and lung tissue were to trees which had lost all of their leaves. They say trees are ‘the lungs of the earth’ and it’s hardly a coincidence, but we now know that the truth is so much more than this.”
He concluded by saying, “While the current state of the world is difficult for people with ADHD, such people should not lose hope, ” he continued, “ADHD will again become a crucial part of human evolution, and afflicted persons will no doubt be perfect candidates for space exploration.”
Everything that his life had been was reduced to this. Every sinew in his body burned, every joint grated in such a way as to send sharp pains shooting through the very fibre of his being, like glass slicing relentlessly through skin and bone. His mind was fading, just as his body was weakening, but as long as he kept moving towards his goal he knew that he would be fine. His legs had been failing for years and so he had an increasing reliance on his walking canes, which had become like a second pair of legs throughout his daily trip to the shop.
Every day at 12pm he started out on this long, torturous hike. It was only half a mile from his house to the shop but to him, with the effort he had to exert to get there, it could have been Mt Everest. Never could there be an endurance athlete who exercised such willpower as this old man. Such was his focus, that he barely acknowledged the greetings of passersby that saluted him, not that there were many of those these days. Most people he had ever known had already perished in the relentless fires of existence. Many of them had rotted away, forgotten, in front of televisions in old folks homes, drugged up to their eyeballs so as not to be too much of a nuisance to the staff who cared for them; treated like children by these people who knew nothing and cared less about the lives of the empty decaying shells of those who used to be regarded as people. Continue reading “Die Standing”