Fleas On The Body Of A Dead Dog

"[Don't think of them as people.] Think of them as fleas on the body of a dead dog that's been run over by a drunken teenager whose girlfriend has just given him the clap.
"It will help your perspective."
"The truth is a lie that hasn't been found out yet".
- John Hurt in Sam Peckinpah's "The Osterman Weekend"

By Charley Brady

And so we go on, every day lasting an eternity where the Bloodsuckers and the Dead Eyes impose more taxes on us while creaming as much as they possibly can from whatever the working man and woman has left.

New house taxes, carbon taxes, water charges; where it ends I don't know but what I do know is that you bunch of absolute and, though you haven't grasped it yet, obsolete creeps who are still inexplicably in Government are directly linked to the rising suicide rate in this small country.

God may forgive you cretins but I never will.

Personal reasons. "Think of them as fleas on the body of a dead dog..."

I first saw that film back in the early eighties, before I had started working in Central America and even then I couldn't understand why people thought that the film was exaggerated.

Watching it again the other night it just seemed to be so far ahead of its time. Forget the Cold War stuff in it that already seems to have come from the age of the dinosaurs: look deeper and you'll be astonished at what you find.

To Susan, thank you for your email, but I have to ask you one question: how in hell did you come up with the idea of me being a misogynist?

I have no idea how anybody that reads these columns can't see that that I don't much care for anyone, male or female and starting with myself.

Yet we're into this paradox here, Susan, because I actually do care.

Still, thank you for the mail and thank you also to Steven in Kenosha, Wisconsin. It's kind of weird to get a balanced argument for a change. Thanks, Steven.

Before I go on to the latest way that the money-grubbers and lowlifes of our beloved Government are taking us for the biggest ride in the history of this corrupt nation, can I just mention Lynn Holland?

She is one of those women that I just adore (misogynist, me?). She's got a fire in her belly that is matched only by her man, Rico.

Still, she does let me down sometimes.

Lynn was telling me yesterday that she had watched the worst movie she ever saw in her life. It was "Bram Stoker's Dracula".

What can I say? It's one of the best, most stylised and romantic films I've ever seen.

When I asked her how she couldn't fall in love with Gary Oldman after he had delivered that line where he says: "I have crossed oceans of time to be with you", she replied: "Typical man, he has to wait a bloody century before he can commit to you". Women! What can you do?

Rico, you have my sympathy. Lynn is one feisty lady.

Onward: As I mentioned last month the dreaded Bertie Ahern - you know, the disgraced ex-beloved leader who according to him won all of his money on the horses - is still writing his column in the "News of the World" as Ireland's premier sport expert. (He doesn't do horse- racing, funnily enough). While most freelance journalists are having a hard time of it at the moment this monument to greed is being paid €70,000 a year for writing what many real sports fans consider to be ****. Nice job if you can get it, Bertie, man of the people that you are.

Also going back a few columns, I mentioned the fragrant Rody Molloy, he of the FÁS organisational waste scandal. He packed in his job under pressure in 2008 but not to worry, Rody: you got a golden handshake for being useless to the tune of €440,000.

The Finance Minister Big Brain Brian (the Wig) Lenihan was concerned about you so this week you got your pension topped up by €1 million. Again, nice work if you can get it.

There are people who have to travel to Britain now if they want to avoid dying in Irish hospitals; there are people who are stuck on hospital trolleys in a corridor because there's no money in your budgets; there are women who have to travel to England if they wish an abortion (the age-old Irish solution to an Irish problem); there are people who are waiting in line for hours at the unemployment offices because their jobs and their guts have been ripped from them.

But you can always rest assured that we can find the shekels for greedy, self-serving losers who have run their own companies into the ground. We will always make sure that you white collars and your important little pocket hankies are well looked after.

This carbon tax: will somebody please explain what it is? Jeez, we live in the world that we made, so why throw this sop to a bunch of self-serving cowards like the Green Party, simply because they decided to sell every single principle that they never had anyway because they wanted to get into bed and into power with the loathsome Fianna Failures.

You crowd, and you in particular, less-than fearless Green Party leader John Gormley, simply do not have any credibility anymore. And for my money, the tree-hugging, beard-wearing, sandals on top of your stupid socks deserve to be kicked in the ass even harder than the slimy FFers that you sold your cardigan wearing souls to.

We'll agree on that one, I trust.

As I write, we are now into day 50 of John O'Donoghue and his expenses scandal. He's still shrugging his shoulders and announcing that it is really none of the taxpayer's business.

But... I think that it might just be our business after today. He has promised that he will give an explanation in the next 48 hours as to how he has been on €2,000 a week expenses on top of what he already earns.

I wait with baited breath.

Colin Farrell went way up in my humble estimation yesterday as he grabbed that jackass of a photographer by the neck. Great photos and I've always liked Farrell anyway.

You just don't scream at a man to get his sister out of the way so that you can get a better shot. Not here you don't. Family is, for good and sometimes bad, family.

Before I start sounding like someone out of "The Godfather" I just have to mention Bono in Chicago: He declared last night: "I am an Irish boy in Chicago. We Irish think we played a part in building this majestic skyline.

"We were the clouds, the rain, in fact we were the wind in this windy city." Is there a more pompous man on the face of the planet?

I was enjoying a night in yesterday evening, but even though not a drop had passed my lips I still felt like heaving.

What a guy.

Hope to see you again next week.

Same bat-time!

Same bat-channel!

You can reach Charley at chasbrady7@eircom.net