Demolition? This isn't the dream we were sold. What would the actual Rosa Parks say about this if she was alive today, writes ROSS O'CARROLL-KELLY

THERE'S SOME so-called economist on the radio saying that the most important person in Ireland right now, in terms of the country's potential for economic recovery in the short term, isn't Brian Cowen. And isn't even Brian Lenihan. It's actually the X Factorfinalist Meerdy Burden.

If Meerdy succeeds in capturing votes, he says, in the same way that she’s captured the horts of a frankly ravaged nation, there’s no doubt that she’ll be the ultimate winner of The X Factor 2010, thus generating a sense of elation among Irish people in the days immediately after the delivery of what promises to be the most difficult budget in the history of the state.

This – let's just call it – feel-good factor, he says, will guarantee an increase in national confidence of the kind not seen since we were routinely winning Eurovision Song Contestsin the – let's remember – embryonic years of the Celtic Tiger. And this confidence, in turn, will precipitate a return to consumer spending in the weeks leading up to Christmas.

“In that sense,” he goes, “Meerdy Burden – a checkout lady, remember, from Ballyfermot, who first entered our consciousness singing I Who Have Nothing – is very much Ireland’s Eva Perón. Or at least the Eva Peron of the Irish retail sector.” I laugh.

I’m like, “They’re all trying to be like McWilliams these days, aren’t they?” Except the old man has that, I don’t know, distant look in his eyes?

“Reminds me of the kind of conversations that Hennessy and I used to have back in the day,” he goes. “I think I’ve told you about the old Leggs of Lower Leeson Street School of Economics, which we called ourselves to distinguish us from Colm McCarthy and his Doheny’s crowd. Oh, happy times!”

This is us, by the way, sitting in the shredding van on Mespil Road. We’ve a pick-up in, like, 15 minutes.

“You’ve probably noticed,” he goes, “that your old dad is a little more chipper than usual this morning.” I’m just like, “No,” because it doesn’t pay to let him get too palsy-walsy with you.

“Well, I am! You see, I rather think we’ve turned the corner, Ross, in terms of this current economic whatsit.”

“Er, what are you basing that on?”

“Just a sense I get – being in business and so forth.”

“Being in business? We’re shredding documents. Evidence, in other words. You said it yourself. People aren’t ready

to hear what it was that made

this country great for 11-and-a-little-bit years. All we’re doing is making sure that no one finds out.”

“Exactly,” he goes, whipping out a Cohiba that’d give a focking stud horse a complex. “But look how many others have moved into our line of work since we set up Shred Focking Everything. There’s Get Rid Quick, Slash Byrne . . .”

“So?”

“So? Don’t you appreciate the work we’re doing, Ross?”

“What, shredding things to stop certain people – mainly your friends – being sent to jail?”

“Well, not just that. In a metaphorical sense, I like to think that we’re burning the field to make the soil fertile for new growth. Preparing the ground, if you will, for the next, inverted commas, boom.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“You mark my words, Kicker, we’ve already seen the worst of this famous current economic business. What’s this the song says? The only way is upwards!”

We’re sat there suddenly listening to the theme tune from The Fast and the Furious. It’s my phone ringing. I check the little screen and it’s from, like, a blocked number? I take a chance and answer it anyway.

I’m like, “Ross O’Carroll-Kelly. Since 1980,” which is basically a thing I’ve storted doing.

“Oh, hello,” she goes. She has a voice that for some reason has me immediately picturing Candice Swanepoel. She’s like, “This is Nadia Calderwood from, like, Ephesus Property Management?” and I actually laugh. Ephesus are the crowd that are supposedly managing the Rosa Parks estate these days.

I’m there, “Sorry, go on.”

“Well,” she goes, “we’re just ringing around to inform all our residents – we’ll be doing it formally by letter as well – that demolition work is about to begin on the three unfinished blocks.”

I’m literally like. “Er, demolition work?”

“Yes, they’re actually going to do it by controlled explosion. That’s why we’re asking people to keep their windows closed. There’s bound to be a lot of dust.”

I’m there, “Whoa, horsey! I’m still back at demolition here. What are you even talking about?”

“The unfinished blocks. The builder has decided to tear them down. The place is going to be a bit of a moonscape for a while.”

I’m there, “Sorry, do you mind me asking why this happening?”

She actually laughs at that. “Have you just woken from a two-year coma or something?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I presume you’ve watched the news at least once since September 2008.”

“Continue.”

“I’m talking about the collapse of the country’s economy.”

“In other words, the recession – yeah, I know all about it. But hello? Those blocks are, like, nearly finished.”

“But the builder doesn’t have the money to complete the work. He’s as good as bankrupt,” she goes, and then she does this funny little laugh. “Just like the country.”

I’m there, “There must be someone who’d be prepared to finish them. They’re actually amazing aportments. And you goys said it yourselves on that huge banner you hung from one of the blocks – 15 per cent already occupied!”

She finds this, for some reason, hilarious as well.

“That’s called trying to see the glass as being half full,” she goes. “Or 15 per cent full, in this case.”

I’m there, “Can I just say, this isn’t the dream we were sold when we bought our gaffs there. What would the actual Rosa Parks say about this if she was alive today? Has the builder even thought about that?”

“I doubt it. He lives in Portugal now. Anyway, like I said, there’s also a letter on its way to you. The demolition is happening on Thursday the 18th of November. There’ll be noise. And don’t forget, the windows.”

Then she just hangs up.

I turn to the old man. Er, what was that he said about us having already seen the worst of this thing? I’m there, “I’d love to know how Meerdy Burden is going to make this better.”