Lines written in captivity

News 2 and European Weatherline Network 2, Friday

News 2 and European Weatherline Network 2, Friday

Tellybingo Network 2, Friday

Important note: due to some recent well-publicised domestic upheavals, this column, written while I was being held in captivity by heavily armed men with Northern Ireland accents, and originally meant for publication two weeks ago, failed to appear. Obviously, when one is captured by outlaws, there is a certain reliance on goodwill when one then proceeds to ask an individual miscreant to deliver one's copy to a newspaper. My trust in Seamus (see below) was misplaced in this matter, and he just didn't bother posting it to my editor. (I have subsequently learnt, through Garda sources, that he spent the money which I'd given him for stamps, as well as my initial bribe, on drink).

However, my reviews of News 2 and European Weatherline and Tellybingo are both quite brilliant, and I believe still relevant. I also think that as a memoir of captivity, it easily eclipses Brian Keenan's rather self-important An Evil Cradling, and, unlike that book, doesn't belittle the experience, but rather captures the pain and horror of imprisonment quite wonderfully. The cry of despair at the end ("Help Me!") is particularly poignant. I have also left in the subtle clues to both my place of captivity and the physical appearances of my captors, which I felt at the time may have aided the police in their quest to locate my whereabouts. I would also like to dedicate this week's column to the Gardai Technical Bureau.

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A farmhouse somewhere along the Border, February 15th, 2001. I hadn't seen News 2 and European Weatherline previously, and was rather impressed with the lively presentation and informative content, which was very evident on Friday's show. Likewise, Tellybingo also made for very enjoyable entertainment, and it is not surprising that it is going down very well with the viewing public. Regular readers may remember I attempted to review the programme a few weeks ago, but because of personal problems, I had to abandon my effort.

Likewise, this week, I am forced to compose this column under adverse conditions, as I am currently being held captive at an unknown location by three men with Northern Ireland accents. As I was blindfolded immediately after my capture on Wednesday afternoon outside a local supermarket in Howth, I have had to assess both of this week's programmes with sound only.

Since arriving at a secret location, which may very well be a farmhouse close to the Border with the North, I have been suspended by my ankles from the ceiling in a rather dingy cellar. Luckily, however, the sound of both News 2 and European Weatherline and Tellybingo drifted towards me from a television set in an upstairs room where it helps to pass the time for one of my captors; a rather gruff man I have come to know as Seamus (scar on upper lip, light hair, wispy moustache - I know, because the blindfold momentarily slipped). Who says the job of a TV reviewer is easy!

I had to bribe Seamus heavily to smuggle out this review - written on toilet paper, ugh!!! - and paid him £250, which he extracted from a cash machine with my Bank of Ireland Laser card. (Card no. 555674334989. Exp. date: nov/01. Used in either Monaghan or north Louth on Tuesday between 6 and 7.30 p. m.).

OWING to my personal circumstances, I was unable to have this sum authorised by my editor, but I am presuming that I will be able to claim back the amount. The good news is that I am not being held for ransom purposes, and I have been assured The Irish Times will not be approached for money for my release.

As I suspected while I was being bundled into a blue Honda Civic (registration number LH??? 67?8), my abduction is linked to personal differences which have emerged between me and my former partner, the nationalist poet, Orla Ni Suibh. It would be ludicrous of me to use my Fantasy TV Review column to reveal aspects of my personal life, but suffice to say, my worst fears have been realised.

Orla, if by any chance you happen to be reading this, I honestly think the joke has gone a little far. There have been many grim moments already during my captivity, not least when an item just before the sports news on Network 2 News and Weatherline referred to my abduction. Rather unkindly, Seamus, who was eating some chips in my cellar at the time, turned towards me and remarked: "That's you, you f***er." Orla, please, I know you can end this. Maybe, when its all over, we could even try to get back together again. After all, many relationships have had to overcome much greater obstacles than one partner having the other partner captured and tortured by mysterious men with Northern Ireland accents.

Remember Ronan and Mairead!!

HELP ME!!!

Arthur Mathews novel, Well-Remembered Days, is reviewed on Weekend 12