171 Navan Road, Dublin 7

Someone said to me when they heard that I was back that I should photograph/document the "ghost estates" around the rim of the commuter belt, in the beyonds of Meath, Kildare, etc. Places that got built and then never occupied, or were almost finished but then the developer ran out of money. Fuck that! I like my derelict buildings with a bit of character. Even if those "ghost estates" were occupied, they'd still be full of zombies, brain dead from their daily two-hours-there, two-hours-back commute in gridlock. Oh those poor people, I read, the recession has left them with negative equity. FUCK. THEM. Thats what you get for wanting a house with 4 bedrooms and garden back and front, instead of living closer to where you work in an apartment, LIKE THE REST OF EUROPE DOES. Deal with the choices you made in your life. You're a stupid fucking Irish person who thinks they've above their station in life, with a widescreen TV and a new car, but you're actually commuter belt nouveau riche (and now pauvreté, or perhaps misère would be more appropriate) trash, its YOU thats responsible for the recession, not the bankers.

So after a brief hiatus, its back here again, with so much other fetid spam alongside us in the dole queue. But not for long (I swear, I hope), so I'll cram all the properties into the blog before operations are shut down again and moved to a tax exile island. I think I've reached this love/hate duality/dichotomy/juxtaposition status with Ireland at this stage in my life. I get dewey eyed about the green auld sod like any diaspora moron, no doubt given a few years away again I'll be a Continuity/Real IRA supporter from afar, have a strange hybrid accent, be a regular at my local paddywhackery "Oirish" bar harping on about how inauthentic the place is, act the drunken buffoon at the socially awkward Paddys Day workplace drinks for the amusement of my colleagues, and so on. Part of me does miss it - but again its a warped nostalgia, where the grass is greener on the other side. You forget the rain, the rain, the idiots who run the country and the idiots who voted for them (and the idiots who think the "opposition" are in any way ideologically different), the state of the place in general, the rain, the fact that now you're home you're not from Ireland any more - you're just a knacker as soon as you open your mouth to a stranger, and so on. So it'll be adios, again, sooner rather than later.

In the interim, enjoy these properties from the northside.