YAAAAYYYY THE FUTURE!

Above: the Jedwards in the year 2039AD

After a recent accident, involving a precariously placed curb and a modest intake of alcohol, I received stitches to the forehead and a caution that I may experience some dizziness, headaches and perhaps even the odd vision of the future. Thankfully I’ve been spared the concussive symptoms but the visions have been coming thick and fast. There have been many great seers of the future before me: Nostradamus was one, the rarely incorrect Edgar Cayce another, Mother Shipton is also celebrated and we shouldn’t forget the astonishingly accurate Bob Carolgees who received prophetic visions via his spirit guide Spit the Dog. Only time will tell if I am to stand amongst these greats but, just in case, I’ve decided to collect my visions into an almanac of prophesies to be published under the title Olde Fugger’s Almanach of Prophesees. Below is an account of a vision that came to me with unnerving clarity as I dozed off during a rerun of Stargate SG1. Enjoy.

VISION:
I descended through a mist of clouds and beheld Ireland in the year 2039. Jedward were running the country and everyone seemed delighted. ‘They’re great’, said President Huberman. ‘They’re full of harmless fun and energy’, said elderly Archbishop Waters. ‘Yaaaayyyy’, said the population in general.

I observed a Jedward political rally. The two Jedwards were standing upon a stage dressed in tennis gear and using racquets to serve autographed tennis balls out to an ecstatic audience.
‘Hey, it’s great to be Taoiseachs but we’ve got serious work to do, don’t we Jedward?’ said one of them.
‘Yeah Jedward,’ said the other one, ‘there are issues and things. Yeah, let’s hear it for issues though.’
The masses cheered ‘yaaaayyyy issues!’ in response. Then Crystal Swing came onto the stage (the mother is still living at this future point in time but as a wired up brain in a glass tank of preservative fluid with a keyboard attached) and they all started dancing and singing the song Under-Pressure/Ice Ice Baby, which apparently will be Ireland’s national anthem in the year 2039. The overall sensation was one of great hope and optimism which was welcome after my previous vision of the Nama Wars. Ireland was once again open for business and politics retrieved from the degraded state of intervening years. My heart felt glad as I was enshrouded by the mist once again and returned to the present day where I witnessed the closing credits of the most boring television programme ever made.
END OF VISION.

We’ll have to wait and see if that comes to pass but I think it will. Other predictions included in Olde Fugger’s Almanach of Prophesees include:

Badgers the size of vans.

Cowan’s crystal meth shame.

Tubridy’s gender reassignment disaster.

Non-membership of Facebook declared illegal.

. . .and many many more!

Olde Fugger’s Almanach of Prophesees will be available from good New Age stockists such as The Healing Fairy Kinnegad and the ever reliable A1 Crystals Rialto at the reasonable price of €55.