The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

dialogue with the enemy

The following was left as a comment here yesterday.

Date: 31st March 2009
Time: 8.47am
Computer IP number:86.46.193
Heelers.
And you wonder why they fired you?
Conor

****

Ah "Conor" indeed.
Clearly your inability to write in simple English, as evidenced by your newspaper articles, is more than matched by your inability to comprehend sublime mellifluously worded English that has already been written by me.
I have never wondered anything about the Johnston Press.
From the moment they arrived on the scene I knew precisely what they were.
A cabal of amoral mercantilist British spivs with a wodge of cash borrowed from idiotically corrupt banks, intent on buying a 120 year old Irish newspaper which had nothing to do with them and which they knew nothing about.
No, I have never once wondered anything about the Johnston Press.
And certainly I haven't wondered why they fired me.
I know why.
I know what they are.
Any questions I have posed here Conor are purely rhetorical.
Your failure to understand anything I've written is not surprising.
You're just the sort of person the Johnston Press thinks can be hired cheap to produce a newspaper.
Good luck with that.
I say it again.
I've wondered nothing as to the motivation of the Johnston Press in their mistreatment of me.
But I do wonder why the Johnston Press removed so many other people from the company.
I do wonder why the Johnston Press got rid of the printer who had been on the staff fifty years, and only gave him a few hours notice that his job was gone.
I do wonder what sort of people treat a human being in that way.
I do wonder what the hell they were thinking of.
I do wonder what the Johnston Press thought it was doing getting rid of the advertising executives who had delivered record returns over the previous decade.
I do wonder how in their wildest dreams the Johnston Press thought it was going to run the Leinster Leader without the very talents which had made that paper what it was. (By talents I mean me Conor.)
I do wonder how the idiots failed to appreciate that getting rid of me, the only journalist on the staff who could speak and write English, would collapse the company.
I do wonder what class of people they are.
I wonder.
But really I know the answer to all these questions Conor.
As do you.
You haven't had my experience Conor.
You've played no role in building up the Leinster Leader over the past decade, seeing off the challenge of the first wave of internet publications and then the rise of the free sheet newspapers, enabling our publication to reach new demographics among young people, the elderly and middle aged, building a new brand through the sheer inventive brilliance of my writing, providing the raw material of an expanding readership for the ad execs to turn into profit, while every other Irish newspaper was going down the toilet.
This is all a foreign language to you Conor.
Like English.
You played no role in making the Leinster Leader what it was the evening the Johnston Press fired me.
Profitable.
Yeah, those of us who'd been on the staff for more than a decade had seen off all the challenges.
We buried em all.
Although personally I didn't want to bury any of them.
I considered there was room in the market for everybody.
It's called morality Conor.
Another foreign language for you.
Then along came the Johnston Press.
They fired me and brought in you Conor.
And in less than two years you've practically finished off a 120 year old company.
A company that had weathered World War One, the 1916 rising, the War of Independence, the Crash of 29, the Great Depression, World War Two, the twenty year recession of the 1970's and 1980's, the rise of the internet, Nine Eleven, et al.
Finished.
Congratulations.
Tell me Conor.
Do you touch the forelock to your English masters as they pass you in the corridor at the Leinster Leader?
Do you say: "Top o' the mornin' to you Sorr?"
It won't save you.
What they did to me in November 2007, they'll do to you tomorrow.
Karl Marx once said: "The truth is what you think when you have no trousers."
Marx in his atheism brought hell to earth.
But he wasn't wrong about everything.
I always failed to understand in discussions with my Chinese friends how they could fail to reject absolutely the Marxian murderer Chairman Mao.
Mao had killed at least 70 million of them.
He was so blatantly satanic.
I couldn't see why the Chinese people were blinded to it.
Or how even today some Russians fail to reject the actions of their former Soviet communist government which in my estimation killed at least 100 million people.
How could anyone side with such devil worshipping killers?
Now I know Conor.
Life has humbled me.
I have become a kinder gentler man Conor.
I know that there but for the grace of God go I.
And I know this.
The truth is what you think when a bunch of low life British spivs have fired you from your job and then crashed your newspaper into a wall while a lowlife like you Conor chips in with a debilitatingly anodyne comment to wit: "And you wonder why they fired you?"
By what right do you dare to address me Conor?
You unmitigated swine.
You haven't contributed anything to the Leinster Leader beyond hammering the final nail into its coffin.
Your family haven't supported, written, bought and advertised in the Leinster Leader for over a century.
Your family are nothing.
You have no standing.
You bring nothing to the party.
You have no influence.
And that's why the Johnston Press can pay you pennies.
You useless pig.
You are not held in any regard among the general public.
Your attempts at communitarian journalism read as arid twee formulaic condescending paeans of insincerity.
Even when you essay enthusiasm for the opening of a new girls school, or an interview with Councillor Mark Dulltone of Athy, or the launch of Care Of The Aged Week, even then, your every word rings with hollow hypocrisy.
This is because, in spite of your best efforts Conor, your every article reads like it was written by somebody who's capable of saying to an unemployed man: "And you wonder why they fired you?"
It's dangerous to condescend to your readers Conor.
Even if you have a contemptuous view of old people, or country people, or people who get fired, or the human race in general.
It's dangerous Conor.
Because once people figure you out, they won't want to know you or the rat infested newspaper you work for.
The truth is you are a talentless cur Conor.
You have all the professionalism, culture and panache of a Shoreditch rentboy working the docks for buttons.
A useless fervourless courageless waste of space.
Your conformity won't save you from the Johnston Press.
And your lack of ability will not save the Leinster Leader in its hour of need.
May your soul rot.
James Healy

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I have to comment ....this chap Conor shows his inability to articulate an effective response. I don't often agree with Heelers but I think he just kicked your ass and Johnston Press's. Conor, brush up on your debating skills.

1:10 PM  

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