Archives for the month of: September, 2011

A lady who has occupied a large plot of land in one of Ireland’s most famous parks has been served notice of eviction by the Irish authorities. “I’ve been here for the past 14 years”, says Mrs. Mary “Prezzer” McAleese, “and now they want to move me and my whole family out in one go”. McAleese (60) moved into the house in 1997 after the previous occupant was called away on urgent business, leaving the lands completely deserted.

The house stands on a large plot of land in Co. Dublin, where McAleese has busied herself planting trees in every available space since she moved in. “She has a thing about trees”, says Mr B. Obama, who witnessed her plant one recently during a visit to the park. Another lady, Elizabeth W. (name withheld), noted McAleese’s propensity to plant a tree every time she met a new visitor. “It was very odd”, she said, “all I wanted was a cup of tea, but instead she had the gardening gloves on before I had a chance to say hello”.

“Now, after minding my own business, they’re kicking me out and taking me away from my trees”, mourned Mrs. McAleese yesterday. She says that she will go to jail if necessary to stop new tenants from occupying her lands. “There is such a thing as squatter’s rights, you know”.

Meanwhile, suitable candidates are being lined up to occupy the lands once Mrs. McAleese vacates them. “I have quite a lot of experience burying things”, says Mr. M. McGuinness from Derry, who has expressed a strong interest in the lands. Another candidate for the park, Mr. D. Norris, also feels qualified, albeit in a different way. “I prefer metal detection to tree planting, quite frankly”, he pronounced. “After all, people enjoy dredging up things from the distant past, don’t they”? Ms. Mary “Kelloggs” Davis, another applicant, is apparently more keen to use the lands to rehabilitate the large number of telephone poles damaged by distracted motorists crashing into them over the past few days. Other applicants for the land: Michael D. Higgins, Sean Gallagher and Dana Rosemary Scallon were unavailable for comment, while we couldn’t be bothered asking the remaining applicant, Mr. Gay Mitchell, to comment at all.

Yesterday, I joined a bandwagon, protesting the imminent execution of Troy Davis.

Just because there was a bandwagon doesn’t make the cause right. But it doesn’t make it wrong either.

I don’t know whether Troy Davis was innocent. All I know is that there was significant evidence that the prosecution case was highly suspect. This, on its own, should have been reason enough to commute the death sentence. Reasonable Doubt. Burden of Proof on the prosecution. That kind of thing.

I know that there were victims in this case. A police officer’s family was left bereft in tragic circumstances. If there is a risk that the wrong man was killed in response to this gruesome act, how does this help the family of the police officer?

I know that another man was put to death in Texas on the same night. How does this matter? The issue is not that guilty people are often executed by the US justice system. The issue is that potentially innocent people can be executed and that no one in power thinks that this might be a huge problem.

If Troy Davis were to be conclusively found guilty, it would not stop my repulsion at this execution. He deserved, at the very least, a retrial.

The system failed Troy Davis last night. How many others has it failed? How many others will it fail in the future?

“If people only knew how hard it is to be wounded, to die, they would all be meek and gentle, would not split into parties, would not incite mobs to attack one another, and would not kill. But when they are in good health they know nothing of this. When they are wounded, no-one believes them. When they are dead, they can no longer speak.”

Mihajlo Lalic

(from the German graveyard in La Cambe, Normandy)

Walking into the hotel was like going backwards in time. The wood panelling, the cubist picture on the wall, the brown leather sofas. All perfect. All preserved like an ancient fly in amber. Here, the 1970’s were still alive. Little consideration was given to the peculiarities of our present age.

We had not expected to stay here. We were in this hotel because our car was undergoing emergency surgery. While driving through the Palatinate forests east of Pirmasens, we heard a bang from the engine. A battery light appeared on the dashboard and I lost power steering. We ended up in a petrol station waiting for the German AA man to arrive. He quickly diagnosed the problem. The alternator V-belt had broken. This was not something he would be able to fix by the side of the road. A trip to the garage was called for. The repair would be neither fast nor cheap. Our plans had changed.

An elderly man was waiting for us when we went downstairs for breakfast the following morning. He was dressed in an impeccable but dated waiter’s outfit. He reminded me of the butler in that perennial German favourite “Dinner for One”. The lady of the hotel, presumably the architect of this situation, was of a similar vintage. She wore a bright orange dress with her hair tied up in a beehive. Clearly, she was a beauty to behold in former years. As we were coming downstairs to check out, we could hear her tapping away at an old typewriter. I wondered to myself what had happened to cause her clock to freeze in time some forty years ago.

The train came to a grinding halt just outside Aulendorf. I instinctively thought that someone had pulled the emergency brake. Two attendants ran past with somber looks on their faces; something very serious had taken place.

In Ireland, a canned statement would follow an hour later, about an unavoidable delay “for operational reasons”. But this is Germany. Here, in this railway line between Ulm and Friedrichshafen, we were told what happened almost immediately. Someone had ended his life, throwing himself in front of the train. When the engine came to a halt, his body was some distance behind the carriages, in a state I dare not imagine.

Sitting opposite us was a rather odd man. He was somewhat elderly. A few long whisks of grey beard intermittently jutting out of his wide chin at strange angles. A few times during the journey, he would turn to us and declare “Es regnet” (It’s raining). Most of the time he spoke quietly to himself. Occasionally he would take out a book, seemingly a yearbook of 2009, read a few lines, then replace it back in its bag. While disconcerting, we paid little notice.

When the train stopped, he abruptly became animated, asking us what had happened, as if we had some special insight into the accident that he did not possess. After being told about the suicide, the man asked us if the criminal police would interview all of us. He seemed perturbed by the prospect.

The train attendant quickly became his object of attention. This young woman, clearly upset by the incident herself, was harangued by the man every time she passed by. He wanted to know when the train would go again. He had to have lunch, you see, in Friedrichshafen. Then, he wanted to know if the train back to Ulm would be on time. No comprehension in his eyes that someone had just died.

Emergency workers and police were now making their way down the track to photo the body and determine the circumstances. He started banging on the window. “When do we continue our journey” he would shout. At one stage, an official pointed to his watch, intimating that we would be going in 20 minutes. It wasn’t enough for the man. He got up from his seat and followed the beleaguered train attendant down the carriage. “But I have to eat in Friedrichshafen”, he would say.

The train finally got underway and we finally arrived in Friedrichshafen. Descending from the train, he started shouting at other passengers. “Out of my way” he would yell, at one stage adding an racial expletive to a black man ascending the steps. He barked another order at an elderly woman in crutches at the doorway of the station.

Then he was gone, presumably to eat a rushed lunch, harassing some unfortunate waiter or waitress in the process; oblivious to what had happened or to how other people might perceive him. A strange man indeed.