The legend of the Celtic Tiger


In the first years of the twenty-first century came a fabulous beast that became known as the Celtic Tiger.  It became a wonder of the great country of Europe and in lesser countries worldwide.   This creature replaced the Leprachaun and fairies in Irish folklore, and a lot of people were surprised when Cuchullín didn’t appear astride it’s back.

It is not known for sure, where this great beast came from, but reliable historians have speculated that it was spawned in the cess-pits in the corridors of power in government and banking establishments.  As it’s main diet was greed and corruption, this seems likely, as there was a plentiful supply in both these places.

The mythical beast attracted plenty of willing disciples all over this land, as it wandered the country-side, proclaiming “buy land, build houses”.  The famous forty shades of green began to disappear as his followers grabbed every field and park nationwide and turned them into housing estates.  It was easy for the disciples to obtain funds, for the banks were the high priests of the beast and made sure money was no obstacle.

Even the little people ( not the fairies) were urged to buy houses and apartments.  Some were enticed in to the cult and fed the myth by taking foreign holidays and buying luxuries they really didn’t need and couldn’t afford.  But they were assured by experts and indeed by the leader of the land King Bertie that they shouldn’t worry, the finance would always be there, they could take out another mortgage, no problem.

Alas, the beast grew fatter and fatter ’til it could no longer roam the land, and other small voices could be heard.  These voices were shouting repent, repent, return to the religion of common sense before it’s too late.  But it was too late, while we were serving the Tiger, no-one was watching the gate, the invaders had slipped in.  The money-bags arrived and offered us a way to repair the damage of the Celtic Tiger years.  Unfortunately, this was at the price of our freedom, and we are now slaves again.

The Celtic Tiger is dead, but his skeleton is strewed around our island.  Rotting bones spread over vast tracts of former greenbelts,  country-side laid waste all over the emerald isle, the isle that is not so famously green anymore thanks to this mythical beast.

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About margaretmarymurphy

I'm an elderly woman (1 husband 6 children 15 grandchildren & 1 great grandson ) I love talking, writing, looking at art & I take a porcelein painting class & can't for the day I get my own kiln.
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