Load Rage

A drop of sand on the road causes more stress than you might imagine.

Cut Your Cloth

You know the recession is biting hard when you find yourself researching a coursing rather than skiing trip. I have to be honest, the aprés is going to take a bit of getting used to.

Radio Norwich

And of course you’d have to wonder what has happened to news reportage in general but on the radio in particular.

Two days ago I heard a newsreader say this; “three men have been arrested in connection with distant republican activity”. Last week I heard the Italian Prime Minister being called Silvio Berluscoli. Also last week, on three separate bulletins, I hear that Barack Obama’s jobs program was worth $447 million.

Factual errors are unforgivable but equally as offensive is the unchanging upbeat delivery. With this approach there is no alteration of tone, pitch or gravity regardless of the story at hand. So the famine, genocide, earthquake, kidnap, road accident or brutal daylight assault gets the same treatment as the new baby panda at Dublin Zoo.

I’d say Steve Coogan would be shocked to learn that in Ireland Alan Partridge turned out to be an inspirational figure.

Swag

So the Bosnian family managed to loot ninety grand for themselves in a year. Not bad. But not great either when you consider that there’s a good few involved; the couple themselves, a few kids, a couple of grannies and other miscellaneous family members. In isolation it’s not bad going but when you stack it up alongside some more experienced looters and break it down to a per capita figure, it’s not all that impressive.

But let’s give them some credit; at least they’re having a go. And when immigrants show a willingness to immerse themselves in our culture they should be encouraged. So if they’re serious about developing their Irishness and genuinely want to improve I would suggest they drop by the Seanad some day and take a few notes or give George Lee or Marion Finucane or Mary McAleese or Padraig McManus or Frank Daly or John Bruton or (insert top level public servant of your choice here) a call.

Because, contrary to that convoluted old saying, it turns out that in Ireland you only need to fool a couple of the people once.

Animal

Jenny and Johnny at Glastonbury 2011

The Wishing Seat

A fan's video for the Adrian Crowley song

Lark in the Park

David Norris may be the best man for the job. He may not. I have no idea. Plenty out there however are sure that Norris is the best man for the job; in poll after poll he leads the way.

Norris is gay and sounds English. We want Norris because it will make us look cool and enlightened. We are right on and ready to reconcile ourselves with our tragic history. These are the boxes the Norris candidacy ticks for us right now. And these are important boxes on the road to calling ourselves all grown up.

There’s a Mary in the race but we’ve had a couple of Marys so that box has been ticked. There’s an entrepreneur in the race but we hate all those business types now so he offers nothing. There’s an eminently qualified career politician who would be competent but would provide very little in the way of reflected glory. So he’s not a runner. There's a pair from up North, a Jesus freak and a terrorist but they're so nineteen seventies it's not even funny. There’s a fella whose name is Gay but that won’t cut it, we’re ready for the real deal.

We have preserved the presidency as our sole means of showcasing how progressive we all are, so Norris it is.

The only question is where to go from here. In seven years time what sort of candidate will be required to revalidate our right on credentials. A disability of some kind might be just the ticket; visually impaired, wheelchair user, amputee? What about a traveller or a transvestite?

All eyes on us lads, we’re just getting started.