Near Death Experience: Kenny’s Ascent
The absence of an internal search facility on this site means that I cannot say with complete certainty that the road I am about to travel has not already been traversed. Indulge me please if that is the case. And do not write angry letters to the Suggestions Forum. No more than the Good Book, there is much to be said for re-reading this entire Opus occasionally in search of times lost.
Now, there is a well known phenomenon which occurs when humans are exposed to mortal terror and survive. There is exhilaration. A sudden release of endorphins. Ecstasy even. Sometimes the wild life-affirming rush results in an almost immediate reflex to divide and multiply, as occurred when certain passengers on a plane, apparently doomed to crash, landed successfully and two youthful strangers ran through the “Arrivals Hall” in search of a bed. (Yes, Mr. Editor, I can reference that fact should you call on me so to do).
The prospect of hanging concentrates the mind wonderfully, said the scribe, and clarity emerges from the fog of life. Priorities are realised at last. I speak of renaissance; of Chilean miners; of the arrival in Athens of the man from Marathon; of life renewed when it seemed it was to be torn away; of ten thousand swords leaping from their scabbards!
Now, think back a few short months. Enda Kenny, Caesar in waiting, unloved by his party and his populace, was to be Brutused to the pips like an over ripe tomato, and squirted back to Clueless Bay. (Open YouTube and play The Ride of the Valkeries as you read on…) But the hyenas overreached, and the apparently effete and ineffectual Kenny galvanised his loins, and with some skill and focus not previously obvious, smote his detractors, and emerged from the valley of the shadow of death.
And what did he do? In his hour of glory? Did he impregnate a thousand virgins? No. Did he poke his foes before him in a Triumphal March? He did not. What was the vessel through which his hubris poured? Where were his laurels paraded?
The answer, my friends, should warm the hearts of us all. He, and his supporters, headed for the hills. With the world at his feet, this man put on his boots, and walked into the sunset. On the mountains surrounding Clew Bay. Are you getting the message? We have friends in high places. He has SEEN the Promised Land.
(PS He may not actually get there with us...but we, as a people, will get there, I earnestly hope. Polls may go down as well as up. Past performance is no indicator of future performance. No liability is accepted; for anything. The insurance we have sold you will expire in the event of a claim. )