OCCUPY DAME STREET: THE FUGGER REPORT

Dropped in on the Occupy Dame Street crowd. I wasn’t sure what was up so I thought I’d check it out and make up my own mind. I was wondering about the demographics and beliefs of the people staying there so I asked a few questions. ‘Do you have a job do you, do you though, do you even work?’ I asked in a friendly manner. Then I asked another question before they could reply to that one because, let’s face it, we all know what the answer would be. My second question was ‘what do you want?’ but I could kind of guess the answer to that one too so as they opened their mouths and drew breath to speak, I roared ‘Oh that’s absolutely ridiculous!’

They were all fairly young. ‘Does your mammy know you’re here?’ I asked one girl in a concerned manner. She just walked off. Walked off! I mean it would be great to see young people engage politically but don’t we have Young Fine Gael for that?

My next question was ‘who’s your leader?’ ‘We don’t have a leader’, one managed to say. Imagine that? They forgot to get a leader. Bit of an oversight eh? I mean, could you imagine if armies went to war without leaders? They’d be running around all over the place, firing guns at the wrong people and behaving like lunatics. What kind of war would that be? No, you need a leader. That’s what I said to them. I said: ‘you need a leader for God’s sake!’

Then I asked them if they had any celebrity endorsements. I thought this was a good question. It’s not really a runner unless someone like Amy Huberman pops around and has a bang on the old bongos is it? They kind of sniggered at my suggestion but I reminded them that celebrities ended world poverty a couple of years ago. Bono and Annie Lennox and all that. Do you remember? It was a fantastic bit of telly. Annie giving it socks. Peter Sutherland on the tambourine. I asked them why no one famous had shown up. ‘Where’s Huberman?’ I asked. ‘Where’s Barry Egan?’ I requested. ‘You lack any credibility’, I pointed out. ‘You could at least contact Blackie off Glenroe’, I helpfully suggested.

Well, they got a bit aggressive then. One of them comes up to me and says ‘would you like some vegetarian quiche?’ which is more or less accusing me of being an animal killer. But who’s the real killer here? Is it me, because I like the odd sausage sandwich, or is it them, because they are KILLING Ireland’s competitiveness, KILLING Ireland’s international reputation, and KILLING Ireland’s hopes of recovery? Think about it. I’ve been down there. I’ve listened to these people and I know. I said as much to them. I said ‘you’re killers, all of you, KILLERS!’ but they didn’t want to listen. They all went off and pretended to be interested in a pot of lentils someone was stirring.

I was a bit disgusted. I went home. I made my dinner and watched the Six One News. Back to reality. Dobson was broadcasting live from Plato’s Cave.

Bears Part 2

Things haven’t been going well since I left the BEARS post. The mother bear was tracked down and footage of her being shot in front of her wailing cubs found its way onto the net. I found it funny but the general reaction seems to be pity and disgust. The guide’s family say he never would have approved and publicly stated that they doubt my account of what took place. Worst of all is the little shite bag of a fire investigator that has crawled out from the woodwork and started banging on about arson. He’s all over the news and everyone’s gone mad. You can tell he’s really enjoying the attention. He’s even got a publishing deal. He‘s calling his book ‘Truth Amongst the Ashes: The Yellowstone Park Tragedy’. Same publisher as me too. Yeah, I know, unbelievable isn’t it? And guess what else, Ben Affleck has optioned the thing and wants to play him in a screen adaptation. You couldn’t make it up. This jumped up ember jocky’s pathetic attempt to make something of his life at my expense might be my undoing. I asked one of my people if we could persuade the guy to take a stroll up Harrowdown Hill (if you know what I mean) but I was told it’d only make things seem more shady.

I’m constantly hounded by the rent a mob crowd now. They show up at my book launches and bang on the windows of the limo. It’s very distressing. They chant like loons and wave corny placards that say things like ‘BEAR faced Liar!’, ‘UnBEARable!’ and ‘ApPAWling Deciet’. A lot of the placards say ‘Socialist Worker’s Party’ too but I’m not sure what that’s all about. Some kind of product placement I suppose.

My team has decided to go into damage limitation mode. I’ve been advised that the best way to handle this is to embrace it. It’s what they did with Big Brother’s Nasty Nick before me. Like Nick, I’m going to try and reingratiate myself to the public via irony. I’ll become a loveable bad guy. I’m booked to play Captain Hook in a panto this Christmas and then I’m going to take part in a tug of war against Pudsey Bear over a pool of gunge to raise money at the next Children in Need. I even played an environmental awareness gig with Cheryl Crow where I dressed up as a grizzly. I met Sean Penn backstage but he wouldn’t talk to me. Bono did though. He sold me an I POD which I sold on to Al Gore for twice the price. I told Al it used to belong to Bono. He’s a big U2 fan.

It’s all a lot of effort though. Everything was going so well. I don’t know why the general public didn’t just stick with the version of events I constructed for them. I mean, it was a far more life affirming narrative than the one they believe now. My story made them happy and it made me money. Everyone was a winner but oh no, they have to have their precious reality. Even if it makes them miserable, they must know the truth. The tyranny of truth, such an archaic concept, as outmoded as morality. It’s all the fire investigator’s fault. He might think he’s the big man now but this isn’t over. Oh no, not by a long chalk. I’ll have the last laugh yet. Mark my words and watch this space.

Oh, and here’s a new CRAP MAN!