Thursday 19 April 2018

Big brother

•As I walked down Baggot Street this morning, I looked up to see for the first time a metre-high photograph of Martin McGuinness staring down at the city below, with the word 'President' writ large beneath.

A cold, cold chill ran the length of my spine. It is like some Dystopian nightmare is truly coming to pass. If Orwell was still alive, I suspect he would concur that this would top the best of his famous allegorical tales.

I paused to catch the loudspeakers telling the citizens how wonderful their leader is, and to walk in a more orderly fashion. Thankfully, I heard none. Yet.

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