Ireland Is My Africa

  “Went to the Unknown didn’t know what I’d find, And if I ever get back It’ll take years to unwind”   The Mad Dalton – from an unrecorded song    In 1880, after many aborted attempts, the man formerly known as the “enfant terrible” of French poetry, made his final escape from his family’s […]

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A Cruel Trick

Visiting places to which I felt I can never return is not a habit I’m accustomed to, I promise. However, my last trip to my Aunt and Uncle’s village in Scotland where I myself had once lived, I found myself suffocating in the familiar quaintness of their grand home. I had sat chatting with them in the kitchen all morning. The AGA like some great white monolith kept the temperature of the quaintness at just the right level of overbearing constancy for me. My pores had now opened up and were screaming for a blast of fresh air.

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Intoxicating The Public Auction

Writing about something that’s wrong, is surely just a matter of writing about personal taste right? I mean some things are very obviously wrong: paedophilia, murder, rape and in Belfast, the sight of teenage mothers walking in unison to the shops in their pyjamas in the middle of the day.

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The Young Lovers

Cruelty, deviancy, debauchery and depravity, that’s what lies at the heart of every man, at least that’s what I’ve always been inclined to believe especially after all that’s happened. It’s hard not to when you see what’s going on in the world today, but I don’t think I’m like that. Cruelty breeds bastards, deviancy breeds rebels with no respect for authority, debauchery breeds cheats and with depravity they’re guaranteed to end up as psychos. Give me all four and you’ve got the makeup of a killer or at least something not too far off. Then again, I’ve never met one so who am I to say?

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© The Mad Dalton