The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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Location: Kilcullen (Phone 087 7790766), County Kildare, Ireland

Saturday, April 13, 2013

a l'ombre des jeunes sexors en fleur

Morning in the world.
Quaffing coffees with a religious maniac called Rowena Baines in The Tearman cafe which overlooks the bridge across the river in Kilcullen.
The Tearman is an eatery run on progressive principles with staff consisting of special needs people mixed in with able bodied Irish full timers, and volunteers from around the world.
If I understand the Tearman philosophy correctly, the idea is that by working together the supposedly handicapped people discover how able bodied they really are, and the supposedly able bodied people see that basically we all have some handicap.
We all need each other equally.
That's one lovely philospophy right there.
Straight from the gospel of the Hebrews.
I would unreservedly endorse the Tearman and its owners the Camphill Community but for the fact that over the past thirty years it has been company policy, no matter what, to always have at least one collossal bitch on the management staff to yank my chain.
I'd endorse em, I tells ee, but for that fact.
And but for the fact that it has been alleged to me that Rudolf Steiner the founder of the Camphill Community was a devil worshipper.
Anyhoo.
Aside from those above mentioned quibbles, hardly worth mentioning really, the Tearman seems to me to be pretty much a haven of sunshine and light.
I would hazard that everybody who goes there, whether to work or to drink coffee, discerns something just by the act of going there.
It is a veritable monastery for the getting on of wisdom.
Even the international volunteers seem to be undergoing a process of near mysical discernment.
For a start they discover that volunteering to do charity work will not preserve them from the lecherous leering eyes of me.
The present crop of international volunteers at the Tearman run very much to the Germanic ideal, ie golden haired, svelte, aroogah, whoarrrrr, take me to the drive in and swear that you love me, etc etc.
So here we sit.
My companion Miss Baines is rabbiting on about something.
A luminous Kraut staff member passes the table.
"Ah Darleen," I intone soulfully. "Du bist eine kleine steinervortzel."
"You haven't heard a word I've said," complains the Baines of my life.
"I have. I have. Something about the new Pope. You like him. That was it. Pope nice. There you go. I was listening. Oh mein Gott in himmel, will you look at that!"
"Do you not like the new Pope?"
"He's alright. As long as some sneaky little shits in the Curia didn't oust the old one, I like him. Oh heavens she's gorgeous."
"What's wrong with you?"
"There's Luisa. Did you see Luisa? She's a Teuton, Bainsie, a Teuton. I mean in a good way. Now I know what Nietzche meant by The Ride Of The Valkyries. Ah Luisa, golden haired and golden hearted, I would always have you be."
"James get a grip."
"If only."
"No really. This is undignified."
"Look, look, there's Karina. Good Lord. To what serves mortal beauty. If Hitler had had ten of those he could have taken two years off the war."
"How come you know all their names?" enquires Bainsatullo.
"It's nice to know people's names," quoth me.
"Do you know the names of the male German volunteers here?" proddeth she.
"Of course I do."
"Go on then. Name them."
"Well, er, er, I mean..."
"I knew it. You can't name any of them."
"Well there's Hans."
"That was a lucky guess."
"There's ermmmm, Wolfgang."
"You're just naming famous composers."
"And there's Heinrich."
"Now you're just naming characters from The Eagle Has Landed."
"You wound me Bainsie. You wound me."
"You don't really know those guys."
"I just named three of them."
"Well which is which?"
"Er Heinrich is the one who speaks really good English but with a heavy German accent. And Wolfgang doesn't speak great English but does have a good clear accent. And Hans, er, Hans, is the one who, um, speaks English with, er, actually with a faint London Cockney accent, just like, er, just like Michael Caine, in er um, The Eagle Has Landed."

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