•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.