So Dublin Bus is going to have a bit of a wobble? National fucking news! Front page of the papers. Headlines on the telly.
Do you know something? I couldn’t give one flying, perforated fuck about Dublin bus services.
Dublin is a ridiculous urban sprawl generated by corrupt politicians and the vicious, unprincipled property developers who greased their palms. Dublin takes up as much land as Los Angeles, but only has a third of the population. Even then, the third it does have is split fifty-fifty between heroin-addicted post-office-robbers and UCD graduates with an inferiority complex about being Irish, whose crooked, rich parents bought them a cheap pass Arts degree and a job in RTE entertaining their friends on early-morning chat-shows. Oh, and of course a few hack journalists and politically-appointed judges.
Two thirds of us Irish don’t live there, and yet all our national transport resources are sucked into this planning disaster of a city, leaving the rest of us with almost no public transport at all, yet the media don’t seem to realise nobody gives a fuck. And that’s because they’re not writing for the majority of us, nor broadcasting to the majority who pay their fucking licence fees to keep them in the smug bubble of mediocrity they’re so dependent on. No. They’re writing for their friends.
Dublin, in its incredible hubris, doesn’t know the rest of Ireland exists, though I understand this is a common phenomenon in small post-colonial societies like ours. I wouldn’t mind that too much if the inmates of Dublin, while condescending to the rest of the country, wouldn’t at the same time continue to suck at our taxes for their own benefit, and negotiate deals with Belfast to re-partition Ireland East-West.
You can just imagine Bertie the slime-ball schmoozing on the phone with Paisley.
N-n-n-n-n-n-no, Ian. Dere’ll b-b-b-b-b-be n-n-n-no problem. We’ll just take the fuckin — sorry — the airport off dem in de M-m-m-m-mid West, an’ give it ta youse.
What’s da’? Dublin pay for da peace process? Jayz, Ian, yiz are a gas fuckin — sorry — yiz are a gas man. Jayz no. We’ll take the m-m-m-m-money for da peace process offa da culchies.
Protests? Fuck ’em — sorry – forget ’em.
Of course, there are benefits. For example, there’s the quiet satisfaction of knowing that in Dublin you have to pay about â€50 million to buy an ex-Council shit-hole in Finglas. And then you have to spend the rest of your life pretending you bought an apartment on the Upper East Side, even though you know — you just know — that if you slid back those cheap Harry Corry blinds (all you could afford on that mortgage) you’d see the very same skangers riding their scabby piebald up and down the footpath outside your house, and the same junkies shooting up at the bus stop, just like they used to before you started believing it was Manhattan and not just another anonymous Council shit-hole.
Anyway, as I started saying, I couldn’t really give a vigorous toss if Dublin has a bus service or not. It might do the tax spongers some good to be like the rest of us for a day or two.